#smiling happy b is my favorite

[ladybugsimblr]

Ooh, I like it, baby...

#impromptu show before the show #smiling happy b is my favorite #love this for her #bklegacy #bklgen2 #bailey kay

[aajjks]

eyes on me (m)

synopsis. look at him, only him, especially when he’s fucking you dumb.

warnings. êxplïcït sěx, döm!töjï, fèm!réàdèr, däddy kïnk, MÄTŪRE THÊMÊS, cússïng, prâïsê kïnk, röügh s-x, möänïng, gröǎnïng, ünprötêctêd s-x, bïtïng, yändêrê töjï, [wräp ït bêförě yöu täp ït], b-lly bǔlgè.

header art by @jj59u on twt. It’s not mine.

note. happy new year 🫶🏻💌✨ please re-blog as much as you can and please share feedback ENJOY!

Oh you look so erotic like this.

You’re both so sweaty, you’re crying, he’s smirking, going so fast, hammering into your heat, Toji can’t stop looking at you at all.

You’re so shy despite literally drooling in his cock but you’re just so adorable- hiding your face away in his neck, whimpering like a kitten in the cold while he’s buried deep inside you.

Your nails are digging so deep into his naked back, your breathy moans are like music to him, and he’s already about to cum as he feels your walls clench tighter around him.

“Gonna cum, my pretty slut?” He asks you so tenderly, pressing butterfly kisses into your messed up hair, Toji hisses a little when you dig your nails deeper but the pain only makes his dick harder.

So he doesn’t waste a second to pick up his already fast pace, he knows you’re about to cum because you always get so quite, too lost in the pleasure to respond or comprehend anything around you.

He is fucking you dumb on his cock.

And he’s doing exactly that right now too. “Come on pretty baby speak up.” Toji whispers in a sultry voice in your ear and he doesn’t miss the way goosebumps appear on your skin, and the sight makes him smile.

Because your shoulder and neck are filled with his bite marks, “yn..” he calls out your name once again, panting alot, he’s made sure to make you cum at least two times.

Because you are his princess, you may be a little bratty but he loves you so much, Tojis hips are grinding into the air and he’s got you safe in his arms, your cunt is so hot around him, he feels like he’ll burst, just then you finally lift your head up and that makes him so happy because he can see your pretty eyes.

Toji is kissing you up from the valley of your breasts, his lips all over them, you’re so soft and so pretty.

“w-wanna cum, daddy.” You whimper, and he coos, pulling you for a rough sloppy kiss, his teeth nibble on the meat of your lower lip.

He’s about to cum too.

“S-So fuckin pretty.” He groans, It’s his turn to bury his face into your shoulder, he’s enjoying the lewd sounds that’s echoing through out your large bedroom, he’s missed you so much.

His biceps flex as he’s fucking you like his life depends on it, maybe because he wants you to get so addicted to him.

“O-Oh daddy… feels so good- ah.” Youre hugging him tightly. Toji feels so calm when his body is into yours, it’s so intimate yet calming.

“You fuck me ‘so good.” Your praise actually has his head spinning so now he’s literally bullying his dick into your pussy, crying out curses and what not.

He loves you so much.

He knows he’s got a very filthy mouth but he knows you love it so much, because it’s not long before you’re literally creaming in his cock, crying with literal tears, moaning in pleasure.

Your shy self is long gone and you’re a loud moaning mess.

You sound like a slut- his favorite slut.

“Noooo baby come on- look into daddy’s eyes.” He is forcing your head up again before you can hide again and his large fingers hold your face up so you’re looking straight into his eyes.

Your eyes are the best thing about you.

He smirks when he spots your belly bulge, you take him so well every time.

Your body is made for him.

“Eyes on me so daddy c-can cum, baby.”

#toji smut #jjk smut #yandere jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro #yandere toji #smut #yandere x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk toji #yandere jujutsu kaisen #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro smut #fushiguro x reader #yandere smut

[remi-thirsts]

𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐓 !

pairing: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, and toji x fem!reader (separate) summary: when you catch them with a suggestive piece of clothing from your wardrobe... content: kinda suggestive, established relationships, toji has no shame at all, allusions to sexual themes, jerking off, pillow humping(?), roommates to lovers (for geto's) pet names, cursing. lmk if I missed anything. wc: 2.5k

♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

The house was awfully quiet when you arrived home with your shopping bags in hand. "Satoru?" You call out setting all of your stuff down. Nothing. No over dramatic gasps, no 'babyyyyyy you're back!!!!!!" Absolutely nothing.

Satoru hadn't told you he was going anywhere, had he? Sometimes the man talks so much that you drown out his voice, so you can focus on whatever you need to get done. Which means you could have missed something.

Or maybe he's asleep? Only, Satoru doesn't nap if it isn't with you. So... where could he be?

Before going deeper into your home, you remove your shoes and place them neatly on the wobbly shoe rack he built. He insisted he could build anything, when he'd never even picked up a screwdriver in his life. That's kind of what happens when you belong to a wealthy family, but you didn't want to hurt his pride, so you let him build it.

You tread quietly toward your bedroom in hopes of finding him there. The door is cracked open suspiciously, with caution you slowly push the door open, "Satoru are you- uhhh what are you doing?"

The man in question tenses up when he hears your voice. As if you hadn't seen him he hides your lace panties behind his back.

"I was uh," He does that little coughing thing to make him look less suspicious, but if anything it makes him even more suspicious .

"You were 'uh' what?" Satoru thinks you look like a mother scolding a child the way you stand with your hands on your hips.

"I- I was hah- are you really gonna make me say it, baby?" He looks so red, cute.

"Yeah, go ahead and tell me what you were doing snooping through my underwear drawer." He sighs, but it's soon replaced with a sneaky smile.

"Ineedednewjerkmaterial." He says all jumbled up and quietly.

"Speak up, 'Toru." A whine leaves his lips. What a little baby he is.

"I needed something to help me when I think about you while jerking off." He spoke clearly this time, so you stop teasing him.

"Well you can't use those ones, 'cuz those are my favorites. Let me find you a different pair." He's in shock the whole time while watching you dig through the dresser.

"Really? You're just gonna give me a pair?"

"Why not? All you had to do was ask. I'm sure you'll buy me more anyway, knowing you." He snorts at that. It's true, Satoru likes to buy you anything and everything, sexy underwear is no exception.

♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

You've noticed that some of your favorite bras have gone missing since you asked your roommate, Geto, to do your laundry when you get too busy. It was a little suspicious when he seemed more than happy to do your laundry, but who were you to think anything of it when he was making one less chore for you?

Sweet, little, and innocent you, didn't suspect that Geto could be the one stealing your bras, though. He's too much of a gentleman, you think. He always opens doors for you, lets you use the bathroom before he does, and when you aren't up to make something, he'll cook you dinner.

He's a picture perfect roommate so there's no way he could be the one. You'll still ask him his opinion on the matter though, because your bras are not cheap, and if they keep going missing you'll have to buy more.

It's Wednesday, which is the day Geto usually washes your laundry for you. There is a very important job interview you have to leave for in ten minutes so you rush to get your hamper to him.

"Suguru- I um I need your help with something." Geto cannot help but stare you down. You're dressed in a black blazer with a white dress shirt underneath, and a pencil skirt that should reach around to your knees, but because you had bend down earlier to pick something up, the skirt hiked up just a little bit.

"What's up, princess?" The first time he had called you 'princess' you just about had a meltdown. He told you not to think too much of it, it was just a nickname.

The smell of his lotion fills your nostrils and his hair is still wet from his shower. There's also no shirt covering his perfectly built body.

"Well.. uh. Some of my bras are going missing. Can you keep an eye out to make sure there's no pervert at the laundromat stealing my bras?" A chuckle almost leaves his throat. You are too cute for him, of course you wouldn't blame him for the disappearance of your bras.

"Of course, I'll keep watch." Since you are running short on time you give him a tight lipped smile and quickly make a run out of your apartment.

"Cute." Slips from his lips, although no one hears it.

-------

There's hope. The interview had seemed to go great, the woman interviewing you said she'd give you a call letting you know if you got the job or not.

To celebrate the potential job, you bought yourself a pint of ice cream on the way home.

When you unlocked the door you didn't even announce yourself, assuming he might have been out or napping.

Before going to your room, you grab a spoon from the kitchen in order to eat the deliciously sweet treat you bought for yourself.

Your room was at the end of the hallway so you would have to pass Geto's room to get to yours. As you walk past his room, you almost drop your spoon in shock when you hear your supposed goody two shoes roommate moan out your name.

A series of grunts and 'fucks' leave his lips after the sudden call of your name. Curiosity killed the cat, huh? Well you don't care enough to let that stop you. It's rude not to knock but when Geto's calling out your name like that you think you have plenty of reason to barge in.

"Suguru what are you-" You should have just went to your room. The sight you walked in on had you dropping your ice cream and spoon on the floor. Geto is not as innocent as you thought he was, not when he's got your favorite laced bra attached to his pillow while he fucks it like they're your tits.

You would think he'd have the decency to stop when you caught him, but you catching him only made him speed up, his hips snapping at an extraordinary pace.

"Fuck, princess. Didn't want you to find out like this. Shit- need your tits so bad." He cums with no shame over the part of the pillow that would be the crevice of your breasts.

You can't even be mad at him, it's hot, but you'll still give him a peace of your mind.

"Suguru! That's- that's my bra! And you- gosh you are so perverted!!!! I never would have thought-" It takes him a minute, but when he comes down from his high, he apologizes sincerely for taking your bras.

And now that you know he wants you just as much as you want him, you indulge in his fantasies of fucking your pretty tits.

♡ 𝐊. 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

He was going on a business trip for a few weeks and took a pair or two with him so he wouldn't have to bother you.

It doesn't even register that any are missing either, because he picks the pairs that you don't care too much about. They don't have to be sexy, Nanami loves anything you wear.

The only reason he does get caught is because he allows it to happen.

It's the second week, day two of his business trip and he decided to have a drink with his coworker, which he never does, but he misses you and a drink would help, even if only for a little while.

Nanami's toleration is high, so one drink turns into seven and he starts to feel the effects around the 8th one, which his coworker cuts him off after that.

"Dude, that's a lot, even for you." He says to Nanami, which he has to agree with, but his drunk mind doesn't want to.

"'s not nearly the 'mount I drink when 'm at home." His coworker chuckles and pays his tab along with Nanami's. (nanami will pay him back in the morning when he's in his right mind)

Said coworker drops him off at his hotel room and makes sure he gets in okay, he also reminds him to, "Call your wife, she might get worried if she doesn't hear from you."

He will. He'll call you as soon as this boner goes away... just thinking about you along with the alcohol in his body has him hard.

He stumbles through his suit case looking for the panties he'd packed in there. A smile graces his face when he finds them, they aren't cute, at all by any means.

He chose them not because they're sexy but because they're just normal, meaning you wear them a lot more often.

His steps are heavy as he about marches to the bed he's been sleeping in for the past two weeks. His conscious starts screaming at him not to jerk off with your panties but in the end, his dick wins.

-------

It's about 11:43 pm when you receive a face time call from your husband. He called you earlier, telling you about his day, so you find it a little unusual for him to be calling at this hour.

When you slide the accept button, you're met with your husband's dick and your panties covering his tip. For a second your eyes widen trying to register what exactly is going on, once you do, arousal pools in your gut.

"What's this honey?" He strokes his dick faster when he hears your voice.

"Keep talking, pretty." He's completely gone, you notice. His cheeks flushed a pretty pink and his eyes rolled back.

"I see you have my panties, what's that about?" A low groan leaves his throat but it's cut off by his words.

"Knew I would miss you. Packed them in my suitcase." The chances of him remembering any of this in the morning was low. Nanami usually has a hard time remembering anything from when he was drunk.

So, being the tease you are, you take a screenshot of him in this state.

"Fuck fuck fuck, gonna cum, please keep talking, Honey." You do as he wishes, saying random little things to help him reach his orgasm. It happens so fast and he's got you rubbing yourself through your shorts.

"You still with me baby?" You ask after he goes quiet for a few seconds. It doesn't take a genius to realize that he was knocked out.

You

[image attached] pervert 😊 sent 11:58 pm

My love 💖

I'm not going to drink anymore on this trip. sent 7:39 am

You

You should, it's hot when I get phone calls from my needy husband 😝 sent 7:40 am

♡ 𝐂. 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

He can't hide it. In fact, he gets caught before he even makes it anywhere with them.

Last night was another night shift so you got home at the dawn hours of the night. A shower and a hot pocket later you were in bed. You made the assumption that Choso had gone out to see his brother, since you didn't see him anywhere in the apartment.

The sound of rustling around awakes you from your sleep.

"Cho? Is that you, baby?" It didn't sound concerned or anything, just a sleepy mumble.

"Oh uh- yes. Hi, good morning." His words are rushed like a kid who's trying not to get into trouble for something they did.

Your pretty eyes peek open to see Choso digging through your drawer for something.

"What are you looking for, babe?" He starts to stutter and try to come up with something you'll believe.

"You were picking out a shirt for me in my bra drawer?" His cheeks turn a bright red as he tries to explain himself.

"It's not what you think-! Okay it is what you think... but I haven't been seeing you much, since you always work late so I wanted to take one of your bras..." He's so cute. Gosh how could you not give him one.

"Okay, pick one out and I'll tell you if you can take it or not. You have to bring it back later though, it's not for you to keep.

He shakes his head furiously fast like a bobble head, and you can't help but laugh.

Choso is the most adorable thing to walk this earth.

♡ 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

He doesn't even try to hide it, AT ALL. Today was the day of your once a week girls night with your friends. It was usually just some karaoke and dinner and on the occasion; shopping.

Instead of the usual your girls had taken you partying at a club. It was fun to dance around with your friends and scream song lyrics while being slightly intoxicated. Luckily, you aren't the designated driver.

When you had clumsily slipped your shoes off in your drunken stupor you realized that it was quiet in the house.

Too quiet, even for your husband. Toji's definitely up to something, because he'd usually be waiting on the couch for you to return home, and he's not.

"Oh baby~" It's slurred tremendously but you still get it out. Silence returns your call, so you take it upon yourself to find him.

The first and most obvious place to look is the bedroom; you'll start there and keep going. The door was closed but you could still hear him. Upon contrary belief Toji is loud during sex. He probably couldn't shut up to save his life.

His loud groans and moans start to cut off meaning he must be close. Is he watching a video he's recorded of you? Potentially.

Most would probably leave their boyfriend alone to finish so he doesn't get embarrassed, but this Toji Fushiguro we are talking about; he does not care.

You slowly pull the door open only to find out that your husband is not in fact watching a video, but getting off to your panties around his dick.

"Tojiiii, without me?" It doesn't even click that he's using your underwear at the moment.

"Fuck- I thought you weren't gonna be back until-" You must have shocked the shit out of him, because he stops touching himself to check his phone.

"Oh. You're home on time." He throws his phone down onto the bed and sighs.

"Waita' minute," It finally registers that those are your panties he's jerking off too.

"Toji, why do you have my panties? Pervert." And to nobody's surprise, Toji gets off to that kind of stuff. He likes when you call him out.

"Hah- shit. Don't ask such stupid questions... are you gonna come over here and help me finish?" A little smirk covers your face as you walk over to the bed.

©𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

note: lmaoooo geto's got a little bit out of control

#𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 #✩ jjk post #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo smut #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto smut #nanami x reader #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami smut #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #choso smut #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji smut

[sugarnspice630]

I wonder how would each member react that you wore a phenomenon perfume to seduce them (yk the tiktok trend,when the girlfriend wore that perfume and their boyfriend sniffing them like crazy.)

I wonder how ateez would react..

I would be happy if you do it 🥺

Hi anon! Omg I absolutely love this idea. I am also curious how Ateez would react in this situation, so let’s dive in to see what I’ve come up with! 😈🙏

Ateez's Reactions to You Using a Pheromone Perfume Around Them

A/N: Sometimes I changed the prompt to have already established the pheromone perfume or it wasn't necessarily used to seduce the member. I hope that's okay! I just got bored of essentially writing the same thing in different fonts so I had to change it up a bit for my sake, but all stories still involve the perfume! Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Hongjoong

Going for a night drive with Hongjoong, being the passenger princess like you loved. Listening to the music playing from the stereo and taking in the beautiful scenery of city life at night. The peaceful humming of Hongjoong singing along to the song currently playing and tapping the steering wheel to the beat. Sitting at a red light waiting to turn, you decided to dig in your bag for your perfume to "touch up your scent." Fortunately for Hongjoong, the perfume of choice for the night was the pheromone perfume that has been seen all over the internet. You saw videos of how crazy it made everyone’s boyfriends react, and you wanted to try it out on him. You opened the cap and rolled the perfume on your wrists and neck, snapping the cap back on the perfume and placing it into your bag. The light changed, and Hongjoong was able to turn. Your body leaned closer to him since you were turning left, and the air in the car blew the smell of your perfume over to him. He glanced over at you to make sure you didn’t spill anything since the smell was so strong. It was a smell he had never smelled before, but it was making his body react in an animalistic way.

“Mm, b-baby what did you just put on?”

“Nothing..just my usual perfume.” You smirked, realizing it had such a quick effect on him.

“Can’t be.” He shifted in his seat with his eyes forward. “This perfume is different than your other kind.” His grip on the wheel tightens, and he looks for a place to pull over. His breathing increases heavily as he keeps leaning over to your side of the car to catch a better whiff.

“Hongjoong what are you-?” You say as he quickly whips into an almost empty parking lot, harshly puts the car in park, and unfastens his seatbelt, crawling over to you. His face dove straight into your neck, and he was sniffing you like a wild dog. You reached your hand up to his face as he breathed in your smell. 

“I’m sorry baby. We’ll get back to our drive later. I need to get more of you right now.”

Seonghwa

You were sitting in front of your vanity, getting ready for your date with Seonghwa. You were almost finished with your routine. Just a few more touch-ups you had to do. You had this perfume that Seonghwa loved when you wore it because it made him find you irresistible. Little did he know, it was a pheromone perfume that was meant to drive him crazy. You had seen it everywhere online and decided you wanted to try it out on him. You picked up your favorite lip gloss and rolled it across your lips. You see Seonghwa walking up to you in the mirror. You smiled softly as you watched him approach you.

“You look amazing darling~.” He said this as he kissed the top of your head, looking at you in the mirror.

“Thank you baby. I always try to look nice for you.”

"Well, you don’t have to try that hard~ since you always look amazing.” He rests his head on top of yours as he gently wraps his arms around you. You finished getting ready as he cuddled you. Shortly after, you finished your makeup and turned to Seonghwa.

“All done~.”

“Mmm, not yet. You’re forgetting something.” He says this as he gets up off your head to reach for the vile of pheromone perfume on the desk.

“Seonghwa I can’t wear that.”

“Please darling? I wanna put it on you.” He said it with a slight pout as he popped off the cap of the perfume, and you couldn’t help but smile and nod as he seemed so excited to help you out. He dotted the bottle along your collarbone, careful not to put on too much as it would drive him absolutely insane. He placed the cap back on the bottle and set it down. He looked you in the eyes and up and down, taking in the view before him. Leaning down to take a small whiff, the smell of the perfume fills his senses and his head. 

“Now I’ll have to fight all the men who try to come after you tonight.” He says with a smirk as he takes your hand and helps you up off the chair to go on your date.

Yunho

You felt bad that every time Yunho would talk about Valorant or Spider-Man, you always had to just nod and smile. The guilt was setting in because you could not really understand what he was saying. The excitement and passion on his face was enough to keep you interested, but the information would never stick because you had no baseline, and then you felt bad when he would ask you, “Oh, remember this thing I told you?” and you couldn’t remember. To make your teaching interesting, you put on a pheromone perfume that you recently bought online. Apparently, the perfume had an effect on men that activated their hormones and made them go crazy over you. Gliding the perfume on your wrist and across your neck, making sure to put it on your sweet spots. You picked up a notebook and pen to be able to take notes to study. You walked over to where Yunho was.

“Yunho I want you to teach me about Valorant.”

“H-huh? All of a sudden?”

“Yeah! I feel bad when I can’t remember the things you tell me, so give me the basics so I can study and be able to remember better.”

“Ah..o-okay. Have a seat.” He said, patting next to him, smiling and looking at you. You walked over and sat down next to him. The breeze from you sitting down went over to Yunho, and a new scent filled his nose. His breath hitched in his throat, and you gave him a confused expression.

“You alright love?”

“I-I don’t know.” He leaned in closer to you and took a deep breath. “Did you get a new perfume?”

“Yeah, I saw it online and wanted to try it.” You admitted it shyly, hiding what the perfume actually did and admiring the way Yunho was acting.

“It- it smells really good. I like it a lot.” He leaned closer to you and breathed in heavily again. Placing a hand on the back of your neck and sticking his nose into the crevice.

“Yunho- what about Valorant?”

“Valorant is the least important thing right now. Give me a few minutes with you instead.”

Yeosang

Trying out the viral pheromone perfume that so many ladies on the internet said worked wonders. After doing dozens of hours of research to find the best one, you placed an order and waited for it to come in the mail. You were busy doing other things at the time it was delivered, so Yeosang brought the package in for you.

“This has your name on it baby.”

“Oh! Thank you!” You say as you take the package and smile to yourself.

“What did you order?”

“Ah, n-nothing. Just something I saw on the internet that I wanted. People have been saying it’s really good.” You shyly smile and set the package on your side. Yeosang nods and lets you get back to your work. When he leaves the room, you excitedly open the package and examine the product. You open the box and slide out a little dark blue vial that has a ball-roll cap on the end. You took the cap off and sniffed it. You couldn’t really smell anything, but you thought maybe it would smell different on your skin. You applied it generously to your skin and popped the cap back on. Waiting a few minutes for it to soak in and trying to sniff your wrists. There was a soft vanilla scent; it was quite pleasant, but not like your everyday perfume. You wanted to see how Yeosang reacted to it, since the internet made it seem instantaneous. You walked out of your room and went over to him. 

“Did you try your thing out?” He asked as he watched you walk in. You nodded and hummed a “mmhmm”, walking over to him, hoping the smell would permeate over to him quickly.

“What do you think~?”

“Well, I’m not sure what you got.”

“It was a new perfume I wanted to try.” You said this as you held your wrist near his nose. He leaned closer to take a whiff of it and pondered for a moment.

“Did you...put enough on? It doesn’t really smell like anything.”

“I-I think I did..” Your voice trails off, feeling saddened and tricked by the internet yet again.

“I mean, I smell something, but it’s just not that strong.” Yeosang says a little more upbeat cause he could tell you were getting slightly upset. You sniffed your wrist again, and it still smelled the same.

“Maybe I got the wrong kind?” 

“Everyone’s skin takes perfumes differently darling. Don’t feel bad.” Yeosang reassured you as he placed his hand on your shoulder and rubbed gently. You nodded softly and laid your head on his shoulder. He breathed in softly and noticed that something felt different about him. His body was reacting in some way to this new perfume you had on. He tried not to notice what was going on, but as he breathed in more, the scent only got more and more overwhelming for him. He fidgeted in his seat, and you couldn’t help but notice. 

“You alright Yeosang?”

“I-I think I understand what this perfume does now.” He quickly said this under his breath before he turned over and placed you down on the couch, diving his nose into your neck to take in more of the scent. "Y-You should wear this more often my sweet."

San

Secretly applying this new pheromone perfume that you bought online in the room next to San’s gaming room. You bought it because you heard it smells really good, and men will find you irresistible. You unexpectedly got a call from one of your friends begging you to meet up for dinner, as you haven’t hung out in forever because of being busy with work. You accepted, seeing as San was busy with gaming. You walked into his room, tapped on his shoulder, and he removed his headphone from one ear to listen to you. You tell him you were going to go out with your friend. He nodded quickly, breathed in, and was immediately stunned by what he was smelling. He excused himself from the game and removed his headset, standing up and touching all over you, pushing himself closer to you.

“Darling, d-did you do something different?”

“No, just the usual.” You smirked to yourself, surprised it had this quick of an effect on him. He pressed his nose into the crevice of your neck, breathing heavily through his nose. “S-Sannie I have to go now.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He growls as he pushes his body even closer to yours and breathes in quicker to gather more of your scent. You bring your hands up to try to push him off of you so that you can get ready to go meet up with your friend. 

“San…I-I have to go- my friend-“ Your words are being cut off by San kissing and rubbing his nose along your neck. 

“Sorry darling, but you’re not meeting with your friend tonight. I need you here with me instead.”

Mingi

“I got this for you love.” Mingi said as he handed you a small gift bag. You smiled and awed as you were taken aback by his sudden and kind action. Mingi always loved buying you things that he thought you would like. You carefully opened the bag and unrolled the tissue paper that was wrapped around the small, long, rectangular box inside the bag. You examined the box and saw it was a type of roll-on perfume. The label had a bunch of different fruits on the side, so you assumed it had a fruity smell. You smiled and looked at Mingi with loving eyes. He had a flustered look on his face.

“Thank you Mingi! I appreciate it very much.”

"Ah, it’s nothing really…I-I saw that a lot of girls online were buying it and saying how good it was, and my girl always has to have the best.” He was fidgeting with his hands at his sides.

“I love you so much Mingi.” You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, and he smiled at your gesture. “I’ll go try it out right now.” You excused yourself to the bathroom and opened the perfume box. You sniffed the cap and couldn’t really smell anything at first. Applying it gently to your skin, you sniffed where you placed it and got a hint of a citrus smell. It was a light scent that you could use in case of an emergency. Setting the tube back on the bathroom counter, you walked back out to the room Mingi was in.

“This smells pretty good Mingi, thank you!” You said with glee as you sat down beside him. As you sat down, the air blew the perfume smell over to him, and he breathed in. The intoxicating smell immediately filled his nostrils and filled his head with thoughts. You saw him tense up as you sat down and raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“Y-yeah everything’s fine.” He smiled and shifted in his seat. You dismissed his odd behavior and cuddled up next to him. Mingi kept shifting in his seat and leaning down to smell the perfume on you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mingi holted his actions and sighed.

“I have to tell you something….that perfume…it’s a..pheromone perfume.” He stuttered out and couldn’t meet your eyes. 

“O-oh…” Your face flushed as it connected why he bought it for you.

“Yeah…and now my brain and body are on fire, and I need to show you how you just made me feel.”

Wooyoung

You had had a small argument with Wooyoung earlier in the day, which resulted in you not talking to each other that much. You both had errands you needed to run, so you went together just to save time. Stupidly, you had forgotten something inside the house and asked if he could run inside quick and get it for you since you were already buckled in the driver’s seat. He silently nodded, let out a small "mhm,” and got out of the car to get your item. You couldn’t handle Wooyoung not talking to you even after you apologized, so you decided to try out this pheromone perfume that one of your friends had given you. You rolled it on your wrists and neck, the spots that make the scent stick the best. You saw Wooyoung coming back in the rear view mirror and quickly placed the perfume back in your bag. He opened the door and handed you the item you had forgotten, leaning close to you to make sure you didn’t have to stretch too far to reach it. You heard him take a sniff through his nose, and he paused for a second.

“Are you wearing that perfume?”

“What are you talking about Youngie?”

“That perfume. I’ve been seeing it all over the internet.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s just my normal perfume-“ Your words were cut off by Wooyoung diving his face into your neck and placed his hand on the other side. He kissed the side of your face.

“You smell so good baby.” You smirk to yourself, seeing how feral he was acting over your scent. Driving his nose further into your neck and leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck.

“Are you not mad at me anymore?”

“I couldn’t be mad at you anymore, but our errands are going to have to wait a little longer.”

Jongho

Jongho was planning on going out with the boys today, but you decided to try to see if you could keep him home with you instead. You secretly rolled on the pheromone perfume that you got a while ago that he really seemed to like on you, for obvious reasons. Just before he walked into your room to tell you he was getting ready to go, he made a small knock on your door. You greeted him with a smile, and he smiled right back at you. Walking over towards you to give you a kiss goodbye.

"Alright baby, the boys are waiting for me outside."

"Okie, bye sweetheart. I love you. Have fun!" You tell him as he leans down towards you to give you a kiss on the forehead before he leaves. After the kiss, he makes his way back over to the door of your room, but turns around before fully walking out, looking back at you and softly licking his lips. He walks back over to you again, and you're confused as to why he came back. Leaning down close to you to get another whiff of your scent. He has this huge smile on his face as he leans back up.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"What do you mean Jongho?"

"The-the perfume? That I like. The special perfume?" The smile on his face is so contagious, you can't help but smile back at him as well.

"No~." You tease him as you softly laugh at his reaction to it, knowing that you are getting exactly what you want. "Just go have fun with the boys!"

"O-okay yeah, you're right. I'm going now." He says as he slowly walks backwards to the door, still smiling like a fool at you. "Love you!"

"Love you too baby." He reaches for the door handle and goes to pull it shut. Not a moment passes and he opens the door back up.

"Do you wanna watch a movie instead?" Popping his head out from the side of the door.

"What happened with going out with the boys~?" You can't help but laugh at him wanting to stay with you, and it's all thanks to the perfume you put on.

"Y-yeah, I think I'd rather go out with you though babe. Stay in for the night, you know?" He waltzes his way back into your room, coming closer to you and catching another whiff of the perfume.

"I guess I can't say no to you~."

"Oh, I know you can't." His face is pressed into your neck, and you feel the gentle air coming in and out of his nose as he breathes in and out, taking in your scent.

~~

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @xuchiya @myloveforyunho

@yeosangsbbg @sanipan @10nantscompanion @sanspuppet @sugawara-levi

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #ateez fic #ateez imagine #kpop #kpop fanfic #ateez reactions #ateez smut #ateez fluff #kpop imagines #sugarnspice630

[izvmimi]

three for one - izuku x reader

cw: children mention. pregnancy mention. husband izuku, married female reader. reader wears a dress. a/n: a repost!

“I’ll be home in an hour. I can’t wait to see you.”

You smile ear to ear as you hang up, still savoring the sound of his voice, but in the immediate silence thereafter, the trepidation you’ve been feeling for the past month and a half resurfaces.

You let out a sigh as you set your cell phone onto the dinner table and return to the stove, turning pork cutlets that sizzle in oil and stirring a pot of soup. Rice steams in the cooker on the countertop, and the smell of Izuku’s favorite foods fill your home.

It smells heavenly, but you’re exhausted, and while the thought of the joy in his expression spurs you forth, you consider for a moment if you should have just aimed for takeout and an evening cuddling on the couch. The fact remains however that you haven’t seen your husband in two months and if you plan to give him life-changing news, you should probably do it over a home-cooked meal, even if he wouldn’t care either way. 

After all, you’ve been hiding the truth from him for months now, and you can’t possibly any longer.

Your belly turns a little, and you worry that you might throw up again before you see him. The table is set by now, and you clean up as much as you can of the kitchen, hoping that the sound of running water calms your nerves.

Before long, Izuku makes it home, right on time, and he’s a whirlwind of motion and joy - his bags go flying out of his hands, as he whisks you into his arm, nearly smothering you with an embrace.

“God, I missed you.”

He spins you as you reply the same, and you can’t help but laugh and squeeze silly tears from your eyes as you wrap your arms tighter around his neck. Your Izuku is back, safe, and you couldn’t be any more grateful. 

“I’m so happy you’re okay,” you say in a voice that’s thick with affection. Your lips meet quickly and don’t separate, engrossed in a dizzying kiss. Your hands run through his messy waves and once your lungs all scream for air, he buries his head into your neck, making a show of inhaling your scent.

“I missed you so much,” he repeats, kissing your cheek. “So much.”

More kisses pepper your skin, and you blink back a few tears, and nod somewhat embarrassed.  You’ve learned to be comfortable with his love language heavily reliant on touch. When he finally pulls back to look at you again, his smile is wide and innocent as usual, familiar and comforting.

Your Izuku, back for you. No scars, no injuries, you are thankful. 

Once he’s finally set you down completely, he begins to tell you excitedly about his adventure, but you don’t miss the gentle yet protective hold on your arms, and the careful once-over, where his eyes quickly scan your body for bruises and other injuries. It’s a habit he’s picked up over time that’s made it nearly impossible to hide your clumsiness from him (something that further reinforces the behavior). It makes you particularly nervous today however, given the circumstances.

Today you wear a baggy dress with an undershirt that covers your arms, the changes your body has undergone in his absence much less evident, but he can still see the anxiety that underlies the excitement in your eyes.

If he does notice, he doesn’t say anything immediately, opting again to kiss you on the forehead, and pet your hair gently.

“Were you good while I was gone?”

The warmth in your cheeks returns, and you nod but give him a playful punch on his shoulder anyway for the paternalistic remark. He grins, then changes the subject although he too is a bit nervous, your slightly muted behavior getting to him. His eyes glide over to the rest of your apartment finally, and then to the dinner table, lighting up immediately.

“Oh my God, that looks amazing.”

He moves over to the dinner table to peruse the wars; you follow him quickly, tension dissipating slightly with the discussion of food. 

“It better taste amazing too,” you joke, bumping himn on the hip. He takes the liberty to go one step forward and pat you on the ass before running off to the guest bathroom to wash his hands.

“Scrub beneath your fingernails!” you call after him, teasingly. You take the opportunity to wash your own hands in the kitchen sink again and consider what to do next.

How do you say this? Should  you wait and let him relax first? 

Surely it’s better if you say something before he puts two and two together? After all, the moment your clothes come off, he’ll notice.

Or perhaps he won’t. Perhaps he’ll just assume you’ve gained a few pounds and say nothing, kissing your belly softly as he’s prone to do. Perhaps it’ll be lovemaking as usual, and his usual sensitivity to your body and needs won’t be enough to notice.

But what if he does?

You were pregnant before he even left.

The days leading up to his trip had been hectic to say the least. Between the two of you preparing his departure, and the unnecessary safety precautions Izuku put in place for you for his absence, and your own work with the new Hero commission ramping up in urgency, you had barely registered that you’d missed one period and then another until you found yourself with a very positive pregnancy test.

What if it wasn’t the right time? Your marriage was still fresh, you’d just settled into the groove of being young professionals who lived together full time, and Izuku was so damn busy all the time-

“Come eat, love,” he calls from the other room. Your hand goes reflexively to your lower belly. 

You have to tell him now or you’ll agonize over it. Now is the time.

—

“Is it good?” you ask , smiling as you watch him eat with gusto. It’s a silly question because he’s nearly cleared his already overloaded plate.

“Incredible,” he says between ravenous bites. They say watching someone you love eat fills you up, and it’s true. Your cup is full of love.

“You’d say that even if it were awful,” you point out.

“Yes,” he admits, “but I haven’t had to,” he teases. You narrow your eyes at him playfully and he does an air kiss, cheesy enough to make you blow air out of your nose. You pick at your own dinner, but manage only to get a few bites in, which he notices.

It grows quiet for a moment as you think, and you wonder again if now is really the time, but he beats you to breaking the ice.

“Babe, is everything all right?”

Your heart starts to pound. You glance up from your plate towards him and he watches you curiously and patiently, a fleck of rice still stuck to his bottom lip. You consider deflecting, telling him something else that is not really a lie, because his gentle gaze and furrowed eyebrows betraying concern distress you. 

You don’t want to add more to his plate, figuratively.

And yet…

You swallow hard.

“Everything’s fine,” you start, and he nods, “but I have something to tell you.”

Izuku looks slightly surprised by the necessary warning shot. You don’t usually extend him that courtesy, so it’s clear that whatever you’ll say next is serious.

You breathe out slowly through your nose. Izuku watches you again carefully as you steel yourself.

“So you know how we haven’t been trying, but we’ve been a little less careful recently?”

Izuku’s eyes widen, and in the split second where the realization sets in, you can see his cheeks flush deeply and his mouth drop open in an ‘o’.

He immediately jumps to his feet.

“You’re pregnant?” he exclaims.

You nod slowly, and he seems to genuinely bloom with excitement.

“You… fuck, I-I can’t believe this! This is so exciting… babe!”

His hands rest on your shoulders then glide to your cheeks where he squishes them before kissing you again, barely able to contain himself.

Then immediately he starts to pace, the muttering beginning as he figures out what’s going to happen next.

“Why didn’t you tell me immediately? I can’t believe we’re gonna have a little girl or a boy-”

This is the hard part.

You slowly and deliberately raise three fingers and he freezes. A second then two passes, and you blink and then he blinks and the two of you watch each other in silence.

He mirrors the action, raising three fingers to meet yours.

“Do you mean… three…”

“Yes.”

The blood seems to drain out of his face.

“Oh. I need to sit down.”

He means it. As he settles back down into his seat, he genuinely looks dizzy and you make some sort of distressed sound between laughing and crying while he’s rubbing his temples, trying to make sense of the loop you’ve thrown him for.

“So… we’re having triplets.”

He looks up from the fixed point he was staring at on the table then at you, and you nod slowly. The both of you take a good look at each other again, and you sigh.

“I know this is so much all at once,” you start, “I’m sorry I-”

“Why are you apologizing for getting pregnant?” he interrupts with a chuckle. You give him a surprised look, then consider it. It’s true. Why are you apologizing for pregnancy?

He reaches over to grab your hand and squeezes it.

“We’ll be fine,” he says, pulling you towards him. You move over to him and he makes space for you to sit in his lap. Your head rests against his chest, and his heart, despite all the news you’ve just dumped on to him, now beats steadily despite yours that races.

Izuku thinks again, pulling your hand to his lips and kisses it softly. You can see the gears turn as you watch his profile, planning, strategizing. In this moment, you realized you were being silly. 

“We’ll be fine,” he repeats. “We can handle anything.”

He turns to you, green eyes twinkling. “Right?”

You smile, genuinely, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Right.”

Bonus:

“You would fucking have triplets after I have my second, wouldn’t you, asshole?!”

“Kacchan, this has nothing to do with you!”

“Like hell it doesn’t! How dare you compete with me?”

You and Bakugou’s wife give each other a look and both sip your tea in unison, in amusement.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes #cw pregnancy #cw babies #cw children

[bandgie]

Cat and Mouse

mdni18+ | fem!reader, pussy eating, teeth use, manipulation (from both parties), fuckboy!wooyoung, cum eating (m!), semi-public oral

2.3k words

You never understood why people don't like fuck boys.

Okay, that's an overstatement. You do know why. They lie, they cheat, and they make pretty little promises in hopes of getting in your pants. They think with the head between their legs and drool at the sight of new pussy. Truly, they were just men who peaked in high school. 

They're pathetic, but easy.

A game is a game, and these types of men tend to forget it's multiplayer. All you have to do is act a little clueless, pretend to be happy to see them, and their absolute favorite, be innocent. Be the perfect little prey they think you are and they'll do anything for a chance. 

It really is easy. 

It's how you managed to snag a date with Wooyoung. He had been asking for weeks since the semester started. Walking you to class, to your car, seeming like a nice boy on the outside, but you know better. You've seen the subtle winks to his friends, the predatory gaze on your body. As much as you would have loved to give it up on the first day, you want to at least have some of a good time and not fucked like a fleshlight. 

You can still picture the grin on his face, the way the mole under his eye shifted with his smile. Well, you don't have to imagine it. He's giving you like sly look now, one hand on the wheel while he's turned to you. The car's been in park for a while. Wooyoung claimed he needed a minute to sit after a nice dinner. It's been way past a minute, however, and the conversation took a bit of a sexual turn.

"I dunno," you shyly rub your hands together. "I don't think I'll be any good."

Wooyoung is patient though, more than you would have thought. "That's okay. We don't even have to do anything. I would just love to keep hanging out with you." I would love to put my dick in your pussy, is what he's really saying, but at least he's being nice about it. "I won't do anything you're not comfortable with."

You nod, pretending to think about what you want to do. "It's just you're so nice and so good-looking. I don't want you to think anything bad of me." Wooyoung is already shaking his head before you can finish, "I would never think of you differently. If you're attracted to somebody, and they're attracted to you, there's nothing wrong with acting on it. But don't feel like you have to. I can talk with you just like this and feel just as happy."

Definitely a smooth talker. You can't help but think about how many hearts he's broken with those lies. "You promise?"

"Of course," but his fox smile gives it away. "You're cool. I haven't felt this comfortable on a date like this before." It's not a shock he's feeling that way. You've perfected your lines and your bashful looks to get him right where he is. The way your dress clings to your body only helps. It's short enough to imagine bending you over the hood of the car and low-cut enough for Wooyoung to keep glancing down at your chest. The dress isn't enough to scream slut! but enough for curious eyes to wander. 

"Thank you," you giggle. "I don't think anyone's told me that before." Your admission makes Wooyoung smile. A genuine look of satisfaction as if it's his heart that swells instead of his cock. He tilts his head to the side. A strand of hair falls over his forehead from the movement. He's cute, hot with his hair slicked back. It's easy to fall under his spell and if you're not careful, you might slip.

But you're well versed with men like him.

You let him lean close, you let his hand gently cup the side of your face. You're fully expecting teeth and tongue, but Wooyoung pauses just before your lips make contact. His dark eyes glance to yours, waiting. 

You nod.

The kiss is not what you were expecting from him. It's not hungry not is it demanding. It's gentle, it's sweet, and it's comfortable. You easily slide against his lips, your hand grabbing onto his wrist and bringing him closer. He tastes slightly like the meat he ordered earlier. It makes you smile into the kiss and you feel him smile back.

You're the one to pull away first. Your lips disconnect with a soft smack and you look into his eyes. "Was that okay?" His body slightly shivers, and he nods while chuckling. "Yes. That was better than okay." You laugh with him, noticing how his hand drops to the exposed part of your thigh to gently rub your skin. 

Only a second of silence passes before Wooyoung asks, "Can we do something a little more?" Then he quickly adds, "If not I totally understand." You have to bite back a smile, you've never met a fuckboy so honest yet deceiving at the same time.

"I dunno, Wooyoung," you play with his hand that's on your lap. "I think hookups are...unfair." This makes him raise an eyebrow, "Unfair? I don't think I've heard that one before. Can I ask why?"

"Like..." you pretend to think of your rehearsed words. "The girl doesn't really get to...finish. You know what I mean?" Judging from the shocked and slightly offended look on Wooyoung's face, you think you have him. "I'm not saying you can't, but I know it's a thing that guys have a hard time making the girl feel good."

Wooyoung is silent for a minute. You can't tell what he's thinking and you begin to think that maybe he took it personally. You're preparing for the worst when he lays his seat all the way down.

"What are doing?"

"Gonna prove you wrong," he simply says. "Come on, right here." Wooyoung points to his face, You narrow your eyes, unsure of what he's asking. "You want me to keep kissing you like that?"

"Nooo," he laughs and shakes his head. "Sit on it." You sputter a choked laugh. This wasn't quite what you had in mind. You thought he'd tell you that he was different, that he would flick your clit while bouncing you on his lap. Just some effort to make you cum, not have a face-sitting session. 

Not what you were expecting, but you're already eager to lift your dress. 

You play with the hem of your clothes, "Right now?" He nods, licking his lips. "Yep. It's already late and hardly anyone knows this place. I got tinted windows too. You don't have to worry too much, pretty." 

Shit, he's good. He took you to a low-key place, paid for dinner, kissed you almost passionately, and gave you an offer you couldn't refuse. Perhaps this mouse has more tricks than you bargained for.

"O-okay," you try to keep your innocent façade. "Just, let me know if you can't breathe." Wooyoung lets out a last laugh and helps you crawl to him. It's difficult to not step on his limbs, but you manage to hobble over his shoulders. One knee is bent on the headrest just next to his head. Your other knee is planted on the backseat, keeping you hovering above Wooyoung's face. You've perched your arms on the headrest of the back seat, facing the rear window and arching your back. 

It's not the most ideal position, but you have to give Wooyoung some credit. It's doable at the very least.

Wooyoung does the honor of keeping your dress lifted. His eyes lock at your clothed core, plain underwear with the only decoration being a small wet spot where your entrance is. 

"Someone got a little excited, huh?" He giggles at himself. "Do you care about your underwear getting a little more wet?"

And he's a tease? You think you're in over your head with this one. "It's okay." You feel Wooyoung nod under you and soon feel a hot muscle over your clit. 

Granted, it's not as hot compared to if he took your underwear off, but it still makes you jump. Wooyoung keeps his tongue flat while moving it in gentle circles. You rock your hips against his mouth, following his muscle.

You gasp at the feel of something hard. It takes a second for your brain to register his teeth running against your slit. Your underwear makes the perfect barrier for the sensation to be wonderfully strange. You let out a moan and grind on his face. His nose bumps the peak of your clit every time you move up and he seems to be completely okay being ambushed in your cunt.

"Mmf! Like it that much?" Wooyoung pulls away just enough to speak. You grind a little more before answering, "I dunno yet."

That spurs him on. Wooyoung bunches your dress in one fist and uses his free hand to move your underwear to the side. You can't tell, but he can see how messy your pussy is. Your clit is fat, wet with need, and begging for Wooyoung to directly touch it. It makes something in him primal, aching for your raw taste on his tastebuds. 

His tongue swipes over your cunt, letting your juices soak his muscle. You whine at the feeling of him and still your hips. Wooyoung's thumb hooks over your underwear so the rest of his fingers splay over your thigh. He squeezes and kneads your flesh, strangely adding to the pleasure of him tasting you.

The further he digs his digits, the more you moan. It's a trick you didn't even know existed and Wooyoung is using your surprise to his advantage. 

His kitten lick feels good alone, but your toes curl at the feeling of him sucking. Wooyoung has your nub in his mouth with his tongue rolling against it. You squeal and your hips buck so roughly that your pussy pops from his mouth with a wet sound.

"Damn," he sounds raspy. "Didn't think you'd have such a sensitive pussy." Wooyoung strains his neck to reach up, latching onto your cunt once more. You whimper and carefully place your weight back on, trying your best not to move this time.

"I just," you let out a moan when he sucks it again. "It's just been a while."

Which is a lie. Well, somewhat. You got eaten out not that long ago, but not this good. Not in a position where you could get caught, where he adds the tiniest bit of pain to add to the pleasure. Everything's an additional layer of arousal that you didn't think you needed. 

Wooyoung says something but it sounds like muffles in your cunt. You hone in on sliding against his face, making sure his nose and chin bump your clit with every drag. Maybe you're going a little crazy on your first date, but there's no guarantee you'll get another chance like this. You might as well use it to your advantage.

Your orgasm slowly builds. You can feel the heat in your stomach and chest, making you whine louder and higher. Wooyoung groans with you, gripping your waist and thigh harder as you suffocate him. You hang your head to look down at him, but all you can see is the top of his hair. Even if you can't see him devouring your cunt, the sight makes you clench. A reminder about how terribly empty you are.

As if knowing, Wooyoung dips his tongue until it catches your entrance. He buries it in you, uncaring how tight your pussy squeezes him and leaks. You whimper, unmoving so Wooyoung can thrust his tongue deep inside.

"Fuck. If you keep doing that I'll cum."

You nearly scream when he doesn't stop. He goes faster, so hard that you can hear the lewd noises vibrating in the car. He gulps down your essence, he moans into your pulsing cunt. Never have you met such an eager fuckboy. One who goes above and beyond without getting his dick wet once.

It's almost cute, but you don't dwell on it too much when you finally tip over. Your walls clench Wooyoung's tongue, creaming so much that it paints his lips white. He fucks you through it as he manages to slide his tongue out and across your clit. 

You rest your cheek against the cushion of the backseat. Normally, guys are eager to push you off and shove their dicks in, but not Wooyoung. He eats you steadily and overwhelmingly. You're the one prying yourself from his mouth, chuckling at his protests and pleas for you to take back your seat.

Your back aches from being arched and your legs scream as you wobbly sit back on the passenger side. Wooyoung shifts his seat up while swiping his lips with his thumb. He collects the last bits of cream and pops it back into his mouth. 

By far the weirdest fuckboy you've encountered, but you're not complaining. You got to cum good, got to ride out your high, and got a meal paid for. You're expecting him to ask for a blowjob, but he twists the keys into the ignition and it roars to life.

"Oh," you hadn't meant to say it out loud, but Wooyoung hears you. He turns his head to you, lips shining with your cum. "What? I'm taking you home right?"

You blink at him, completely thrown for a loop. It takes a few awkward seconds before you answer, "Yeah. Sounds good."

You're starting to think maybe he came his pants and is too shy to do anything else, but you catch the smirk as he turns back to the front windshield and puts the car in reverse. 

It then occurs to you that maybe you weren't the cat after all. 

#smut #ateez smut #ateez #ateez fanfic #atz wooyoung #atz smut #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung ateez #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung

[ist4rgirlo]

all i can think about is conrad bringing home bimbo!reader. like everyone knows belly likes conrad but he sees her as a sister so belly’s being rude and asking snide backhand comments but she’s not realizing it and actually thanking and answering belly with a smile. so now everyone realizes she’s not the smartest person but susannah LOVES her! (and connie baby is looking so happy and proud 🥹)!!! i’ve been looking for one like this but i can’t find it and can’t stop thinking of it!!!!!

────────────── 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐜.𝐟

ONE SHOT !

warnings: FLUFF, belly being a b*tch, shit talking, physical touch (LMK IF IS MISSED ANYTHING)

requested by: anonymous

To be honest, no one expected Conrad to have a girlfriend like you. Everyone said that you were far from his type, you weren't dumb - you were just slow and doesn't know certain types of words or slangs. For Conrad, you were one of the most smartest person that he knew, well basically because he got to know you. You don't really show it but you have so much potential especially when it comes to fashion and make-up! a plus is that you are really good with art.

About his type, they always thought that it would be Belly and Conrad that would end up together, knowing that Belly is literally in love with him ever since they were kids, before you happened, they had a special bond - a bond that to the point where they were just inseparable, Belly thought that it was something so beautiful, It was her dream to be with Conrad.

Not until she knew that he had a girlfriend, and that he just treats him like a sister and nothing else.

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Conrad's Pov

"Connie, you should bring that girlfriend of yours here sometimes!" Mom exclaimed, happily. Ever since I brought Y/N here, she was all mom asked from me, even her and Jeremiah instantly clicked. You can say that amongst the girls that I have been with, Y/N is surely my mom's favorite.

I smiled proudly, "I'll try, Mom. She's busy and I don't want to interfere with her personal life, but I'll ask. I'm sure she'll say yes especially if it's your request" I rubbed my mom's shoulder, she nodded.

She stood up and walked towards the kitchen, "Well tell me when she's coming so I can invite the Conklin's too, I'm sure her and Belly will get along really well." I just hummed and nodded. I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Y/N asking if she can come here for dinner, she immediately responded saying yes. I smiled.

I saw my mom's figure come into the living room, I looked up - smiling at her, she tilted her head looking at me confused, "Well, it looks like you favorite girl is coming" I said giddily. My mom squealed, "Omg! I am so excited, I will cook her her favorite!" she said before going to the kitchen, to list down foods that she know's Y/N will like.

──���────────────────────────

FEW DAYS LATER

Y/N's Pov

"Mom! We're here!" Conrad yelled, his hand rubbing your waist gently. You saw Susannah walked towards us, she went up to me and hugged me "Oh gosh! You're finally here, I missed you" she cooed, pulling away - placing her hands on your face gently. You smiled, looking at her "Oh Susannah, I missed you too! Here I got you your favorite" You said, handing her the dessert that she liked. She gasped, and grabbed it from you gently "Oh you didn't have to!" she said, pouting a little. You shook your head "It's okay! I wanted to" You smiled before looking up to Conrad who was already looking at you - smiling lovingly.

Jeremiah came into the view, walking towards you - pulling you in for a hug. "Hey, you!" he said, smiling. "Hi, Jere" I looked at him, smiling. "Looking good as always" he said, twirling me a little bit. It wasn't anything that was awkward between you and Jeremiah, even Conrad doesn't find it awkward. Ever since Conrad brought you here for the first time, you and Jeremiah just had that sister & brother bond.

You felt Conrad hand on your waist, "Baby, this is the Conklin's. This is Steven, Belly, and Laurel. You already know who they are since I did talk about them to you." Conrad said - smiling, turning you gently to face the Conklin's. You saw Laurel smile at you before walking towards you for a hug, "It is nice to finally meet you" she said, before pulling away. You saw Steven wave while Belly was just there, looking at you up and down, but you just chose to ignore it and just smiled at her.

After a while, you all went to the dining room to start eating. "Here you go, sweets. Eat lots yeah?" Conrad said, grabbing food for you - placing it on your plate, you heard Belly scoff "What? you got no hands? can't get your own food?" she mocked you, you looked at her confused. Steven nudged her with his elbow "Belly, stop it" he said, you looked around, all of them were looking at her, Susannah had a stern look on her face. Belly rolled her eyes, groaning "Calm down you guys, it was a joke!" she said, looking at you smiling, Susannah sighed "That wasn't a good joke, Belly" she said, reaching for you gently. Belly looked at her and said sorry. You just smiled back nodding, going back to eating your food.

You felt Conrad's hand on your thigh, you placed your hand on top of his - you felt his hands lock in with yours. You looked up and saw him give you a reassuring smile, you nodded and smile, telling him that you were okay. "So Y/N.. what is your major?" Laurel asked, you furrowed your brows, not familiar with the word until Conrad whispered to you "It’s what you do in school, baby" he said smiling, Belly chuckled - not believing what she just saw "Oh! Uhm I major in fashion design!" you exclaimed happily, smiling at Laurel. She nodded before smiling at you "Well It is obvious, just look at what you are wearing." Belly said, looking at you up and down, "Isabella." Laurel warned her, grabbing her arm gently

you smiled - thinking that it was a compliment. "Thank you!" you said, looking at Belly - she just looked at you like you were crazy which made you shrug you shoulders - looking at Conrad. He was looking at them, his brows furrowed. You felt his hand tighten around your thigh, you placed your hand above his - rubbing it gently, He looked at you - his gaze softened, he smiled.

After you guys were done with dinner, Conrad decided to walk you around the house. You guys were now at the back of the house, at the pool with your feet's dipped in it. Conrad reached for your hand, caressing it gently "Sorry for earlier, darling. I'm sorry for not defending you or saying anything to Belly" he said, before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You turned to him, brow furrowed, shaking your head "Why are you sorry? nothing happened earlier, Connie. I am okay, whatever they said didn't hurt me okay? I'll try my best to get along with Belly." you said, smiling still unaware of Belly's action.

Conrad eyes softened "Oh my love, you are too kind. Sometimes it scares because then people will try to get advantage of you" he paused, caressing your face "but it's okay, i'll be here yeah? I'll defend you and I will stay right by your side, always so don't worry about getting along with her. You don't have to do that, baby. Just think about mom and everyone else, they absolutely love you." he said, before pulling you in for a kiss.

Conrad is just deeply in love with you, he doesn't care what other people think as long as you are there beside him. He was just high over heels, he absolutely adores you and treasure you, he wouldn't ask for more. He just felt like the luckiest guy to have someone like you.

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I JUST LOVED WRITING THIS! it is honestly one of the cutest and wholesome oneshot i've ever written. Conrad is just so inlove with reader and I AM UP FOR IT, I want a love like this UGH. Thank you, anon for requesting this <3

#tsitp #tsitp conrad #tsitp fic #tsitp oneshot #tsitp imagine #tsitp fanfic #conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher one shot #conrad fisher angst #the summer i turned pretty #abtconrad fics #bimbo reader

[lettersofalover]

-> break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored | paige b.

paige b x fem!college!reader

genre: flirty, suggestive, smut 18+

authors note: p.b ilysm, this is just a start of a small college themed series about p & readers fun encounters

the bar was crowded but that’s exactly how she liked it to be. paige thrived under the spotlight but she was in a different type of heaven when the people around her were too wasted to care that she was walking among them. nights out were rare - she didn’t have as much time as she used to - but they were always fun. with the sound of the dj scratching his table, he began announcing that karaoke was beginning. and that was paige’s cue to leave and refill her drink. she checked if her friends needed anything before walking with her head low towards her favorite bartender - she didn’t have to even ask for a drink or pay, the bartender and barback both had class with paige and she was happy to have friends in high and low places. she drummed her fingers on the bar and watched her drink being made when felt people crowding around beside her.

“fuck off,” a voice spat out beside her and she turned her head to look at the scene that was unfolding. you were shorter than her so all she could see was the back of your head as you flipped off a man, who, looked like he belonged to a fraternity on campus and for a second, she thought a fight was about to break out. the man stepped closer and pecked you on the forehead and you welcomed it with an eyeroll and a shove. “don’t kiss me, you owe me a drink.” you laughed. paige turned away from the exchange just as you did and you stood square at each other, your eyes meeting hers, before she turned her focus back to the bar. she’s straight, paige thought to herself, they always are.

it wasn’t lost on her that you were hot. it sure as hell wasn’t lost on her that you were built exactly how she liked. it also wasn’t lost on her that you were clearly straight and not at all single. you stepped on the footrest of the bar with both feet and leaned over the counter, yelling at the bartender with a sugary sweet smile. paige was sure she was going to see you get bitched at by being obnoxious but you got her attention and were met with a squeal of delight. the bartender was holding paige’s drink in her hand as she began to gawk at the sight of you - only a few feet away from paige.

“shut upppp, people start studying for the lsat and think they can just ignore their friends.” the bartender teased, placing paige’s drink out of reach seemingly unaware that she was holding it hostage.

“no more studying,” you beamed. “i fucking passed!” you had to shout over the sound of drunk girls giving the most humiliating performance of a sexy back by justin timberlake. paige watched the bartender go on and on about how proud she was of you - while paige’s drink sat across the bar.

paige didn’t want to interrupt and as soon as she worked up the courage to grab her drink, the bartender turned to pour a shot into a rimmed glass. paige was stunned at the size of the drink, if that was a shot she would have choked trying to get it down. she watched patiently as you grabbed a lime from the counter, putting it in your mouth before squeezing it on the back of your hand. the bartender promptly poured salt on your hand before picking up the entire bottle of tequila.

“this is for me,” the bartender explained and pulled the glass of tequila towards herself, “and this, my love, is for you.” she placed the bottle in front of you and you groaned. paige watched as the bartender took the glass shot before asking if you were ready for your pour. you stepped off the footrest and steadied yourself.

“open wide.” she teased and you did just that. paige tried to pretend that she wasn’t watching but was doing a terrible job. the tilt of the bottle poured a straight line of alcohol down your opened mouth. paige was enthralled with the shape of your tongue - the curve of it alongside the eager licking motion you did sent her reeling, a blush forming on her face. it felt oddly intimate. the bartender poured while praising you, “atta girl, taking it like a champ.” which sent a throb through the athletes stomach. how could taking a shot be so sexy. you tapped on the bar signaling you couldn’t do any more. as she pulled the bottle away, paige’s eyes flicked to yours and you grinned at the tall girl. maintaining eye contact you lifted the back of your hand to your tongue, taking the longest, drawn out and exaggerated lick of the salt - sucking it off in one swipe. paige smiled and bit the inside of her lip before turning to the bartender.

“my drink?” she asked and the bartender handed it over with an apology. “ ‘s all good.” paige replied with a glance between the two of you. she took a sip and leaned back on the bar trying to scope the easiest path back to her friends before her head turned right back to your side profile.

“you got a lil something…” paige motioned toward the corner of your mouth where tequila had spilled from the pour. you touched your face, finding the spot then dragged your index finger up your chin and into your mouth. you took your time sucking and pulling out your finger.

“what’s your name?” you stood on your toes to make sure she heard you. she leaned down and into your tilted neck, brushing dangerously close to your ear.

“paige.”

“nice to meet you, i’ll see your around?”

“maybe.” she answered. paige wanted to catch what you were laying on her but she didn’t want to assume that you were into girls. she was tired of being in situationships with women who ultimately were just going through a phase. she didn’t need that kind of drama, especially right now. she just wanted a night of fun. the bartender called your name and chastised you.

“stop trying to fuck my friend,” the girl chastised from behind the bar, which made you giggle and paige lifted an eyebrow, “you’re crowding the bar.” you threw your hands up in mock defeat. you took one more long glance at paige, blew a kiss to the bartender, and made your way through the crowd.

paige turned to the bartender and tilted her chin down without saying a word, getting an eyeroll in return.

“she straight?” paige asked, pointing with the cup in her hand.

“not even a little a bit.”

“she single?” paige continued to inquire as another person stepped up to order a drink.

“now that is something no one knows.” she answered honestly, leaving paige to search for the answer on her own.

—

you had to be single. there was no chance that you would be in the back closet of the bar, with your leg thrown over paige’s shoulder while she ate you out and not be single. she refused to believe it purely because she wanted you so damn bad and she wouldn’t find any fuck’s to give if you were dating someone. she wanted you and got you exactly where she wanted you to be: whimpering and cursing as she used her skilled tongue. paige’s tongue was sloppy and hot against your core and she was so turned on by how vocal you were. you were shuddering, legs twitching, and just falling to pieces all over her tongue. she could feel you teetering on the line of an orgasm so she got off her knees. you began to protest but immediately gasped at her two fingers inside of you, moving them in a beckoning motion as they hit all the right places. you were still gasping as she talked to you, so close to your mouth but feeling so far away.

“you like that?” she asked breathing in your gasps and merely nodded, “can’t hear you…” she went deeper inside you, forcing you to speak up.

“jesus, i love it.” you managed through heaving breaths which she smiled at. paige’s mouth connected with yours, the kiss slow and sloppy due to you being on the brink of your orgasm. “please don’t stop.” you begged with another sweet whimper. it was music to the blonde girl’s ears.

“i won’t.” she promised and proceeded to go even harder, surpassing your expectations of how good this quickie was going to be. you closed you eyes as you rode the rush of adrenaline that came pulsing through your body. you weren’t sure how you were still standing, every part of your body was on fire and weak. you were stunned to say the very least and then paige began talking you through it and you lost your mind. her voice was velvety compared to the ringing in your ears. she kept telling you how “good you feel.” and how “tight you are, baby.” before sending you reeling into the abyss with a final, “are you going to cum for me?”

after getting yourself together and breathing normal, you couldn’t help but giggle as she showed you her hand which was completely covered in evidence of your orgasm. she let out a hearty laugh and said, “that’s a first.”

“what?” you asked as you pulled up your thong and then you jeans with a wiggle.

“you came so hard, i don’t know what to…” you cut her off mid sentence knowing she was searching for something to wipe her hand off. instead of letting her, you grabbed her wrist and licked every bit of yourself off of her, making her laugh even louder. you gave her a satisfied grin as you bent down to pull up your leather pants and wiggled to get yourself situated. she ran a hand through her hair as she pulled out her phone and cursed.

“they better not leave me,” she dialed her friend and put a finger to ear to block out the bass and shouting from outside the closet. she turned to the door to listen to her friend, “i’ll be there in a minute just wait, ok? i’m being so serious give me a minute. don’t fucking leave me.” she argued half joking, half serious. she hung up the phone and stuck it in her back pocket and turned back to you.

“i’ll see you around?” she smiled down at you and all you did was shrug. paige looped her fingers through the front belt loop of your pants and tugged you closer to her frame. “i’ll see you around, right?” she reiterated with a more serious tone as you looked up at her through your long lashes. paige came to the realization that she just loved looking at you - you were just too pretty for your own good.

“i’ll make sure you see me.”

#paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #wlw fiction #wlw fanfic

[chilschuck]

beach day headcanons please (any characters you’d like)!!! we were deprived of the typical anime fanservice imo

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ohhhhhh my gosh anon i was literally SO SO HAPPY to get this ask!!! decided to stick with the usual charas you guys enjoy, plus some falin!!! hope this turned out okay and thank you so much for having me write it for you!!! <333

— DUNMESHI BEACH DAY HCS.

꒰ charas: ꒱ laios, chilchuck, falin, & mickbell.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw + fluff with gn!reader.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 1.4k

✦ hope this turned out okay!! it was such a cute idea and so much fun that if anyone has requests for more charas, i’d be more than happy to do it!! <33

— LAIOS:

✦ We know that he doesn’t do well in hot weather, so you can imagine he’d be sporting only swimsuit trunks and flip flops for sure.

✦ Definitely enjoys being in the ocean, especially to try and cool off. You can imagine he’d be really interested in knowing more about what’s in the water around him, and probably points things out to you that he finds interesting.

✦ Be prepared for him to burn really fast, so make sure he gets plenty of sunscreen!! It’s always cute to see him walk up to you and ask for help, in which you gladly oblige. You help get those spots he can’t reach, and he does appreciate just how thorough you are.

✦ You’ll probably end up splashing him, which he’ll return in kind. Be careful what you start, because you’ll end up drenched by the end of it!

✦ A picnic on the beach with him is definitely something that happens while you’re there. Laios is so excited to share a meal with you in such a beautiful setting, and finds himself giving you that goofy grin at just how happy he is. He makes sure to pull all the stops to make this enjoyable for you, even preparing your favorite snacks.

✦ Definitely goes home with a few shells or shark teeth, if he found any. Laios thinks they’re too cool not to pick up and examine, running over to you and showing you what he found in the sand.

“You won’t believe what I found!” Laios calls out to you, jogging over to where you sat on your towel. His hands cradled something, and as he stretched his arms out to show you, a smile grew on your lips.

In his hands was an almost perfect conch shell, something he held with pride and excitement. His smile matching yours, he said your name softly. “Do you think if you put it up to your ear, you’d hear the ocean like those stories?”

You shrugged your shoulders, not able to hold back the giggle at his glee. “Only one way to find out, right? Just make sure there’s nothing still living in it.”

Laios still keeps that shell in a safe place, wanting to remember the day you spent together.

— CHILCHUCK:

✦ This man is definitely showing up in a Hawaiian dad shirt and cargo shorts. The first few buttons are undone, and he has a pair of sandals on that he insists he only saves for days like this.

✦ Chilchuck plans on staying at the spot you claimed with towels and an umbrella, a drink in hand. He’s definitely enjoying the sight of you in a swimsuit and the breeze ruffling your hair, but he’d never admit that.

✦ You try to pull him towards the water, but you only manage to get his feet wet. Chil tells you this is as far as he’ll go, but that disappointed pout on your face makes his heart race a bit. Ok, fine… Maybe he’ll go up to his knees for you…

✦ Probably spends most of his time drinking and relaxing, a hand behind his head and alcohol in the other. Very dad-like of him, you muse, which causes his face to heat up and grumbles to leave him.

✦ Ends up falling asleep, the sound of the waves and the secluded shade from the sun causing his eyes to flutter shut. You can’t help but laugh a little, returning from your time in the water to study his sleeping form. He looks so peaceful like this, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up…

✦ If you do somehow manage to get him fully in the water, be prepared for him to get targeted by the tide. Maybe you even suggest getting him a float, which he gives you that blank stare in reply.

“There, that’s not so bad, is it?” You say as he finds himself in the middle of a tube float, eyes narrowed towards you.

“This makes me feel like a kid.” Chilchuck complains, yet you see him grip onto it tighter as an incoming wave makes an appearance.

You pull it over to you, the inflatable bumping into your stomach as you give him that teasing grin. “Guess you’re stuck with me while we’re out here, huh?”

The half-foot groans, debating on whether or not he’d make it if he tried to swim back to shore right now.

— FALIN:

✦ Wears a light t-shirt and shorts, opting to be comfy! She also has a hat she wears to help keep the sun out of her eyes. If she did plan on swimming, I like to imagine she’d have a swim shirt and a one piece swimsuit!

✦ Like her brother, she was excited to see all the shells and creatures at the beach, bringing you things she found fascinating. You might even find her entranced with a sand dollar and stating how pretty it is.

✦ Walks into the water hand in hand with you, but also really enjoys walking along the sand near the shore. As the sun sets, she intertwines her fingers with yours, leading you along and watching the pinks and blues in the sky reflect on the waves.

✦ Also definitely goes on a picnic with you, the beach making her cheeks even more rosy than usual. You can’t help but tell her how cute she looks in her outfit, her hair loosely blowing in the breeze. Falin would give you a sweet smile, the same one you fell in love with.

✦ Don’t be surprised if she leads you back to the water after you make sure she’s not getting burnt, insisting that she wants to enjoy how cool the waves feel. You’re more than happy to walk out a little deeper with her, noticing how she still keeps your hand in her own.

“It’s so nice out here…” You heard her mutter, a content smile dimpling her cheeks. The sunset left a sweet gradient in her hair, something that made you unable to look away.

“It really is. Too bad it’s getting dark,” you reply, a little disappointed that the day is already over. Falin squeezed your hand, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“Maybe we should stay and watch the stars come out.” Her voice was so gentle, causing you to give her a grin of your own.

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

— MICKBELL:

✦ Like the official art we have of him swimming with Kuro, he’s definitely sporting a pair of swim trunks and flip flops, with his hair in his signature ponytail.

✦ He and Kuro are so excited to swim, and drag you along to the water as soon as you get there. Of course, Mick is either clinging to you or to Kuro when in the waves, not seeking to really swim on his own.

✦ You definitely enjoy watching them swim and play around more than you’d like to admit, especially with Mick hiding his face and complaining when Kuro decides to shake all the water out of his coat.

✦ Mick really likes finding shells he thinks look neat, and showing them off to you and Kuro proudly. Maybe you even find yourself building a sand castle, with him and his buddy watching closely and moving to help you. He’s in charge of decorating it, while you’re in charge of building it! Kuro helps dig up some of the sand to use.

✦ The three of you end up getting a sweet treat, cooling off in the shade and enjoying the time spent together. Knowing Mickbell, he’s going to lay his head in your lap as he rests after so much activity, looking up at you with that cheeky grin he usually has.

“I could get used to this!” Mickbell sighs, nuzzling into your lap as he makes himself comfortable. Kuro is watching the waves, sitting beside you as the sun begins to fade from the horizon.

“I would’ve thought you’d be ready to go home a lot sooner.” You teased him, brushing his messy bangs out of his face. Scoffing, he made sure you saw as he rolled his eyes.

“If I didn’t have you and Kuro, maybe… But this is something we’ll have to do again. Right, Kuro?” The Kobold nodded, causing a warm grin to spread on your face. He was certainly right about that.

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿 #HOPING THIS IS OK ANON HHHHH #i’m hitting a creative roadblock with school #which is causing me to stress a bit #but i wanted to get this out for you guys!!! <333 #first time writing for falin so i hope it’s ok… #sorry if anyone’s ooc!! WAHHH #laios x reader #laios touden x reader #falin x reader #falin touden x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #mickbell tomas x reader #mickbell x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader

[clockwayswrites]

Not So Imaginary

Parts 1-3 Parts 4-6Parts 7-8 WC: 1177

“I brought you some more books to read,” Jason said as he entered the room.

After Danny had shown that they were clearly a person (a kid at that) and answered a few questions, they had been moved to an actual room on the Watchtower. Jason was pretty sure part of it was how he refused to leave the cell until Danny was moved, but he didn’t really care as long as it got his friend safe.

Danny looked up with a grin. They were pretty solid today, sitting cross-leg on the bed with feet and everything.

“You’re back,” the artificial voice spoke out from the tablet like device in Danny’s hands. It was a version of something called a SGD, Bruce had said, and was used by people who had trouble with verbal sounds. They didn’t know if Danny would always need it or if they’re vocal cords would come back as they continued to solidify.

“I am. B said I could stay a whole three hours today too as long as I ate a snack while I was here,” Jason said, holding up one of the bags he had.

Three hours still wasn’t a lot, but it was better than the one it had been the rest of the week. It took a lot of begging, but B finally agreed that Jason was well enough for a test to see how it went. Danny was still draining life force from Jason, and only Jason, which made certain Leaguers nervous about letting the two of them close. Jason had done everything he could to let it happen: he’d begged and argued, he’d eating everything Alfie wanted him to, he rested whenever Bruce wanted him too which was all the time, and he even agreed to stay benched for as long as it took.

That last one had really helped convince Bruce and Dick that Jason wouldn’t back down from helping his friend.

“Good. I am happy. What do you have?”

“You liked the Hardy Boys, right? I have a few more of those and I found you some science mags you might like,” Jason said as he flopped onto the bed next to Danny. He could feel the odd tingle travel up his arm as he leaned into Danny.

“Thank you,” Danny said with a wide smile. The tone of the electronic voice didn’t match the brightness of that smile, but it was alright. Jason could also feel how happy Danny was.

“You’re doing okay?”

“Yes.” There was a long pause as Danny found the right words. They were pretty quick already with preset phrases, but odder things still took longer than regular talking would. “WW took me to observation deck. We watched stars. She told me stories of stars from her home.”

“Yeah?” Jason asked, trying to keep his voice from hitching around the word. He couldn’t bug Danny with that yet. “You like her? Wonder Woman?”

“Yes.” The reply was quick, but Danny was watching Jason with furrowed brows. They pushed a sense of question through their bond.

“I’m fine. Just thinking through some shit,” Jason said with a wave of his hand. “But Wonder Woman is really cool. She’s my favorite too.”

Danny set the tablet aside so that they could run their fingers through Jason’s hair. It felt odd, what with not all of the fingers always being all of the way solid, but a good sort of odd. It seems Jason couldn’t just Danny’s concern aside.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”

Danny let out what for anyone else would have been a sigh and gave a little nod. They shorted through the bag of books Jason had brought and found a Hardy Boy’s to hand over to Jason.

“What me to read to you?” Jason waited for the nod. Apparently it was really important to let Danny choose things right then, or so the adults said. “Okay, move over a bit, yeah? You’re hogging all the bed.”

Danny placed their hand to their chest, face screwing up in an affronted expression. It didn’t work though when Jason could feel the amusement through their bond.

“Yeah yeah, I’m a brute, now shove over,” Jason said with a laugh. He worked his way up until he was lounging against the head of the bed.

Danny didn’t move.

“You’re a brat,” Jason accused.

Danny gave a silent laugh, humor bumbling up in their bond, before they flopped over right onto Jason’s chest. Jason let a huff of a sigh, but ran his fingers through Danny’s hair like he knew they liked before he opened the book to start read about another adventure of the Hardy Boys.

It was easier to feel the drain like this, when they were so close to each other and touching. Jason had tried to avoid spelling that out too much to Bruce. He got that his dad was just worried, but he was afraid if B knew he’d tried to keep Danny away.

As it was Bruce was trying to send Danny away.

Jason brushed the thought aside, focusing on doing his best to give the characters good voices for Danny. At least it was a distraction from all the rest of Jason’s thoughts. Two chapters later the stopped to ask, “Want a break or do you want another chapter?”

Danny rolled over and off Jason’s chest to flop onto the pillow next to him and Jason froze. His shock must have been clear because Danny scrambled up off the bed until they were floating above Jason.

“No! It’s a good thing. Just… you’re getting some of your color back,” Jason explained. He should really stop staring. He should take Danny to a mirror to see or something, but it was just that… Danny was beautiful right then. He found himself reaching up to brush his finger tips of the bright freckles that were scattered across Danny’s cheeks and nose like a galaxy of stars.

Bright teal eyes blinked back at him.

Jason cleared his throat. “Right, sorry, let’s go let you look.”

Danny floated to the side, landing on their feet as Jason stood, and followed behind behind to the small attached bathroom. Jason guided Danny in front of the mirror. White was spreading into their hair now.

For a moment Jason was worried that Danny was frozen in shock, then the other leaned in close to the mirror, touching the surface before bringing their hand up to their own face. Suddenly Danny was moving, spinning weightlessly around Jason as they gave a soundless whoop.

“I know,” Jason said with a grin of his own. “Look at you! You’re really coming together now! I knew you could do it. I knew that you could come back.”

Slowly, Danny drifted back down so that the tips of their toes brushed against the floor. They rested their forehead against Jason’s.

He didn’t need words to understand what Danny was trying to say.

“Don’t have to thank me, stardust. I’ll always come for you just like you’ll always come for me.”

--- AN: Oh ho, is Jason starting to realize he has a crush? And what isn't he telling Danny? Hopefully this part is good, the weather is giving me such a migraine/making me super dizzy so my eyes are crossing some! (Yes, I'm resting, on the couch with a cat!)

I really should have made an update post for this... this supposed ficlet just keeps going! 7K now! Aaaah well. Anywho, stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #dead on main #not so imaginary

[takami-takami]

Keigo Takami — Nsfw Alphabet

6k. Hawks x Reader. Minors dni.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Oh, Keigo is sickly sweet.

All that post-orgasmic fuzziness is getting funneled directly back towards you: the object of his affections. Every chemical that bursts and pops in his brain when he comes inside you is getting channeled right back into plentiful doting, post-sex. 

Keigo's aftercare… It's riddled with indulgent pampering. You know how some dogs bring you their favorite toy to make you happy? Yeah. It's kinda like that. If you had feathers, he'd preen them between his fingertips.

Keigo's the kind of dom who's primary form of aftercare is giving aftercare. He needs to see his hands soothe and treat you like royalty in order to be normal. At his core, Keigo is quite the sensory, visual creature. When he sees your eyes slit shut like a purring cat beneath his touch, that's when he finally allows himself to breathe.

The hero who is so desperate to help and wants to see people smile more than anything, to the point that it disintegrates him, finally being given a healthy outlet for all those urges to protect and provide and keep you safe? Yet it's still a kind of "work" that satisfies his workaholic nature without feeling like work at all? And it simultaneously serves as the purest, most soothing indulgence he's ever had the pleasure to sink his teeth into? 

Oh my god. It makes him normal.

Physical touch is a big one. He's a bit handsy and gets in your personal space, but you don't mind one bit, so it bodes well for the both of you. If you let him pull you into the bath with him after, he likes to wash and run his palms along your body even though you're perfectly capable of doing something like that yourself. His little "let me, babe" is an instruction and a beg all at once. Expect him to get a bit playful with the bubbles, though. 

Part of why Keigo loves baths with you is because of the part where you turn him over, gently preening and pinching the bristles of each feather until his brain melts to goo once more.

You're going straight to bed after. No buts. You deserve some well-earned rest after you did so good for him. Keigo made sure to start buying the softest blankets and pillows he could find after you started getting intimate together. Don't ask him why.

Keigo doesn't shy away from verbal affirmations, either: "Oh, baby, you did so good for me", "you're perfect", "I'm so proud of you." He never did like holding back his true feelings on things, and speaking to you is no different. He is going to let it spill and that's that.

For aftercare that he needs personally, be sure to reflect how much his aftercare helps you and be honest about what you need! Whether they're verbal or not, he's quite skilled at understanding cues. It's good for him to be shown the fruits of his actions for a change, even if he doesn't think he needs it. 

It's good for him as much as you.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Keigo never stopped to think about his favorite part of his body. If you asked him, he'd likely cock his head to one side like a doberman puppy given a command they can't exactly interpret on the spot.

He supposes everyone expects him to answer with the word "wings"— even though those closest to his inner circle would balk at such a notion, knowing how complicated that whole situation is. Yes, and no. 

The answer comes easily, after he meets you. Keigo likes the way you look into his eyes. In that way, he learns to love them.

He abhors his hands, but he worships yours. Every bump and ridge, the sharp roundness of each knuckle, the length of each finger. The way you hold him, the way you touch him. He'd shudder in recounting this, if you were to ask him what parts of you he likes best.

He also adores chests. That skin-to-skin contact is soothing; and although he can hear your heartbeat through his feathers already, pressing his ear directly against the source grounds him deeply. It makes him feel ablaze and at peace all at once, the bareness of your skin.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This boy cums a lot. Like… Genetically. He's blessed. Whatever god is out there gave him the right equipment for his breeding kink in a stroke (ha) of good luck.

Keigo cums sticky, excessive, fat ropes— his backshots are insane, his facials outrageous, his creampies coating the sides of his cock white and spilling out of you before he even can pull out because there's just not enough room for all his cum inside you.

Keigo is a gentleman, so he will ask your input respectfully beforehand without letting his desires slip through the cracks when he pants the question, "where do you want me?"

But you both know the truth.

You're perfectly aware there is nowhere else his poor, sad, pathetically needy dick would rather burst and throb than stuffed deep inside you. Balls deep, as flush as your bodies can practically go, subtly grinding against your ass rather than thrusting because he would rather die than pull out even a fraction while he's in the midst of an orgasm this good.

The orgasms he experiences when he's inside you are the closest Keigo will get to religion.

How else is his cock supposed to get milked? Not inside of you? Fuck out of here.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He, uh… Likes to be humiliated and talked down to. And stepped on... A lot. More than a lot. It makes his brain go fuzzy with the lack of control. Don't ask him where that kink comes from. Really, don't worry about it!

Keigo is also the type of guy to swear he's not into feet (he's into feet). No, really, he just thinks your boots suit you and he swallows a lot around them because he's just so fascinated with the, uh… The style. Yeah. You can prop your feet up on him like a footrest, if you want. It's intimate, or something— whatever, just do it.

Can he kiss them? Can he unlace your boots? Do you want a foot massage tonight, babe? It's no inconvenience, really, don't worry about it, he insists… Please? Fuck, please, would you let him touch you, your skin is so soft, he promises he's been so good please god just let him feel your soles against his hot, throbbing cock— I mean his hands. When he massages them. As a favor to you. 

Fuck, his dick is hard now. That's your fault. This is all your fault for wearing sleek leather and not ordering him to rut against it like a fucking dog. Leather boots as a "fashion choice" his ass, you're torturing him. You have to be doing this on purpose. That's your fault, not his, but he's sorry anyway if that means you'll punish him by stepping on his dick so gently with your—

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Virgin loser.

But no, seriously, Keigo has had neither the time nor the cognitive space to stop and consider his own sexuality, let alone experiment with it. It's not like he would have trusted anyone enough to do so with, anyway. Fat fucking chance.

As far as whether he knows what he's doing, he starts off tentative and curious, absorbing the information of your body and voice like a damn sponge. When he tests the waters, so to speak, he starts slowly and observes any miniscule quirk of your muscles, every hitched breath in response to the stimuli he offers.

Keigo is a quick learner and a perfectionist. Don't expect him to take the backseat for long.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary.

Undoubtedly, missionary. He's romantic, like that.

What more could a man want? Your ankles hooked across the small of his back, his right hand entwined with yours while his left kneads every inch of your body, focusing on petting your sex whenever he wants to hear your voice whine for him. 

Keigo gets the perfect view like this. He can absorb all you have and breathe it into his lungs and swallow it while he gulps down your image like a sacreligious idol. Like an angel. Like worship.

The connection of it all maddens him. He adores the way he can press your thighs up and into a mating press if he so pleases, deep enough to stuff your guts full of him and make you sob gooey tears with how good it feels. It allows him unbridled access to your thighs, your chest, your hands, your mouth (which he plays with unashamedly like his favorite toy. Fingers, tongue, lips.)

God help him, Keigo loves missionary.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As serious as Keigo wants to take the love you share, for every intimate night you make love and absolutely nothing else, there's another day he makes you laugh so hard your chest aches like a bruise in bed.

Keigo can be a brat. A little shit, a pain in the ass. This is no secret. Still, every joke and nibble and tackle and moan is utterly saturated. It's sticky. It's lovesick.

He likes to banter in battle, and that switch doesn't turn off when the conflict is between the sheets. There are nights he simply allows himself to be your pillow princess, laid back and spoiled in the fluff of your bed like it's made of heated cashmere; and there are other nights you grant Keigo the holy sacrament of servicing you while you simply lounge and watch him do what he does best. 

Those nights, not many words are exchanged. There's no need to say them.

You get each other.

Even so, you cannot count the amount of times you've choked "shut the fuck up" through laughter over the years, when sex looks more like tussling than worship. It's stress relief as much as it is bonding, play as much as it is intimacy. Still, Keigo keeps a good balance of humor and seriousness.

Can't have all work and no play, can he? He never was a dull boy.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Keigo has trimmed hair that is still blonde, but slightly darker than the hair on his head. It's well-kept. 

He keeps his chest bare, unfortunately, to look photogenic for his modeling gigs and such. But after many nights spent begging and pleading on your knees, Keigo sort of considers keeping the happy trail. After the night you traced your tongue down the trail toward his cock, promising he'll get this kind of treatment if he keeps it, Keigo never shaves it again.

Oh, Keigo's happy trail… It crawls up his navel and stops just short of his belly button; dark and noticeable, but a little sparse, kind of like the scruff on his chin. It makes him look more rugged while simultaneously making him appear prettier somehow, because Keigo is nothing if not unfairly contradictory and magnificent in everything. Asshole. 

You suppose anything would look good with those abs as a backdrop, though.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect?

Keigo never knew intimacy before he met you. It sounds like hyperbole, the word never; but whether people believe him or not, it doesn't erase the decades of longing for no one and nothing in particular, a parasocial ghost that both plagued him and kept him trudging forward. 

Keigo builds community for others, working to connect their hearts… Why wasn't he invited, again? Oh well, that doesn't matter to him. That's not why he does the work he does. His own happiness is never why Keigo does fucking anything. 

It's for the greater good. And Keigo is worse than everyone else, isn't he? It makes sense why he wouldn't be invited. He never stopped to question that.

You don't touch him like he's dirty, though. The first time your palm slid up his throat, he stiffened and trembled like a twig that might have snapped beneath your boot; but when you hush him this softly, he's a stray kitten in your maws, plucked and wrapped for the first time in fleece and warmth and love. For as feral as the world made him, Keigo is at his core quite a domestic thing. You put him back in place when you make love to him.

In turn, Keigo offers himself to you. It's not much, but it's yours if you'll have it, he says. The louder he gets when you fuck him, the more you realize he's opening up his lungs like buds awake from frost. 

You know from experience what that's like. He opens you up, too.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Keigo had to go through a bit of a journey to arrive where he's at. 

Namely, over the course of his sad little life, he underwent three categorical phases. Do not mind the tiered nature of the following sections. This shift was, in actuality, torturously gradual; like having one's body dragged forward by its ankles, finally accepting you have no say in where it's headed after a few desperate claws at denial.

Jerking off was a chore, a half-assed attempt at wringing the frustration of a long day out of his body and letting it wash down the drain on Sunday nights— every other time of the week was booked to the nines with hero work. Ten minutes for yanking it, tops. If Keigo timed his sessions with a stopwatch, he'd fall just short of the millisecond every time. Score. Efficiency. Plop down in bed and go straight to sleep after so you don't have to think about how lonely that whole experience just made you feel.

Enter, scene: you. After meeting you, masturbation just wasn't the same. It frustrated him that he even had to use the same word to describe it, because as far as Keigo was concerned, this was not the same activity in the slightest. Those were the golden years, when jerking off felt less like "rubbing one out" and more like "this is how it feels to drown in liquid gold. This is how it feels to have your cause of death be every neuron in your brain spontaneously combusting in a fit of pleasure. This is how it feels to be in love." The first time he allowed himself to touch his cock to the thought of you, Keigo swore he saw god; and when he finished an hour later, the back of his hand was chewed to whimpering bits. Yeah, those were the golden years.

And here we are, back to square one. After you finally get together, Keigo is back to square one. What do you mean he has to use his own hand when he's on missions away from you? What do you mean he can't cum inside you? This sucks. This blows. It's not the same, and for all his patience and respectability, the lack of passion when he touches himself kills Keigo with sexual frustration. The only thing it accomplishes is planting a pathetic whimper of "fuck, I miss them" in his head while he pants post-orgasm in a shitty motel bed alone at two in the damn morning. You do get a really cute text message after every time; something chaste like "missing you tonight <3." It's so obvious. You simply have to laugh.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding, obviously. 

Dumbification, both ways. Thinking is overrated! And honestly, he deserves a bit of a break from all the whirring that goes on in his overheated, overworked, cognitive machine of a brain. Something about the responsibility for guiding his partner through it when he's the one who doms is special to him, too.

Oral fixation, because he's the cutest little biter. He chews. Keigo also gets lost with his mouth latched onto your chest, flicking his eyes upward periodically when he has the mental faculties to think for half a second (which is not all that often, when his mouth is full, his lips are pursed, and his tongue is lapping its fill.) He also adores giving head!

Subspace, too— Keigo is a fiend for subspace, either guiding you through it or getting lost in it, himself.

Huge fan of edging and overstim. Keigo is not a physical sadist at all, he never wants to make you cry out of pain; but tears of frustration are not just "on the table," they're a goddamn feature. He is such a pain in the ass. You can't blame him for being insufferable, for stopping just short of your orgasm when you want to cum and forcing more out of you when you think it's too much. He's just having so much fun!

Keigo is the kind of guy to edge you when you say you're close and click his teeth dramatically before he goes, "ahhh, shucks, baby. What was that? Did you ask for something? I didn't hear you that time. Ask nicer." 

He tilts his chin to the side and taps his ear with two stiff fingers when he leans in, invading your space as he mockingly orders: "Say it louder for me." 

And after you throw your little fit about how mean he's being, how he’s such a bully, Keigo finally feels emboldened to move onto the next phase. He makes you feel good until you're sobbing, expertly dragging climax after climax out of your body until you're so overstimulated you can barely speak and are lacking more than a few electrolytes. In which case, Keigo will make a point to laugh at your complaints. He'll say, "aww, I thought you liked coming? Aren't I being nice? Don't pout, I'm just giving you what you asked for!"

This is not so much a kink, but he likes the title daddy because of the trust, affection, and protective responsibility being 'daddy' implies. Assuming responsibility during sex feels like home to him; because for the first time in his life, he has a healthy outlet for those urges and instincts that have caused him so much trouble. He admits in canon to being desperate to be of use and help, after all— oh, and along that same vein, he loves to service top.

Keigo thinks the title "sir" is really cute too! But mostly, he treasures the nicknames and pet names you come up with for him. His names of "Keigo Takami" or "Hawks" have never felt stable for him growing up. So nicknames are nice, for a change.

And he has a mommy kink because of his mommy issues. You'll actually have to be very gentle about this because he absolutely does not recognize where it comes from at all.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In bed. Anywhere in his home, really— surfaces, the floor, cabinets somehow— but he especially prefers to take you in bed. It's not a nest thing, trust me (it totally is).

The way Keigo's quirk works isn't an actual animal quirk, so he's not literally a bird and his bed is not literally a nest. But he does possess a number of birdlike oddities, and this is one of them! 

He also just feels safe, secure, and at ease in his home (not the one from the commission, his actual home). Given his whole thing about his little roosting place in canon, it makes sense that the bedroom holds special significance to Keigo in particular.

Keigo bought you some blankets. He really, really hopes you like them. 

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Service. Pleasure and sensation is fantastic for him, he thrives in it, but eroticism is cognitive for him as well (or, ya know, lack of cognitive during dumbification). Don't get him wrong, a simple "woah!" and a popped half-chub from seeing you shirtless is still something that definitely happens, but he can be a complex man, too. He promises.

Most of all, Keigo is an observant sponge. He likes to watch, to study, to learn, to analyze, to perfect— like a cat confined in an enclosure given toys and apt time to chase and solve as a form of enrichment.

Sex is special and a bonding activity, but as much as he's a sucker for the plain old basics— the romantic part of it all— it's no surprise that Keigo gains a great deal of satisfaction from gently mapping the parts of your psyche that make you tick. And obviously, as Keigo is one for outcomes, just mapping you out isn't enough for him. 

He should be able to play with the fruits of his labor, too, no? The satisfying pop of your last brain cell has something of a Pavlovian effect for him. That's when the real fun of it begins. 

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any heavy impact play. This is an absolute no from him. He doesn't want to do it with tools like flogs, whips, etc; but it's especially worse when it's his own hands. He can't exactly pinpoint why, though (poor birdie has a thing about his hands being dirty). For that matter, he dodges anything that would bring you more physical pain than, say, a firm tap. Keigo does enough of that at his job, he doesn't want to hurt his baby, too. 

A couple love taps on the cheek or thigh are the most you'll get, but the way he does it is more than enough to get your brain fuzzy. He's a biter and scratches a bit, though! So if you're into pain, this is where you'll find common ground.

Never call him filthy or dirty, or ever imply he is either of those things, even as a joke or to tease him. 

He's not a fan of choking, but specifically when he's the one doing it. Again, it reminds him of his job. He's okay being choked himself, though, since he believes he's perfectly capable of handling himself (and he's used to putting his life on the line, anyways).

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Most are familiar with the "Keigo-drowns-between-your-thighs-and-dies-happy" headcanon at this point, but the classics are classics for a reason. 

He prefers giving over receiving. It's not even close, honestly. Your orgasms against his tongue satisfy him more than his own— not that he won't be touching himself while he goes down on you. Because he absolutely will.

Rough day? He'll eat it from the back to cheer himself up. 

Good day? He tops it off with you on top of his face, of course.

Mediocre day? Fuck it, he's on his knees and his mouth is on you before his keys hit the table, anyways.

One of your fondest memories you recount to him endlessly (to his embarrassed chagrin) is a night you two were roleplaying in bed. The slippery fucker thought he was slick, tied to the bedpost as he attempted to— in character and in scene— subtly propose you sit on his face as a "punishment" in that pathetic little oh no, whatever will I do type of voice. 

His face flushed scarlet when you burst into laughter over him, breaking character and nearly busting a lung in the process. 

Oral? As punishment? For Keigo? Did he actually think you were going to buy that? Oh my god. You never let him live it down.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on his mood and yours. Oftentimes, you find yourselves synced and on similar wavelengths; but other times, as all couples inevitably see, there's a bit of a mismatch between sharp and smooth desires. On those nights, Keigo takes the liberty of defaulting to softness. 

He easily slows his pace when you tell him you want it syrupy and molten, regardless of how pent up he is. But more interestingly, Keigo is able to see when your "give it to me rough" doesn't reach your eyes. 

When you ask for rough sex with your hands clutching his tee shirt and a shaky look in your eye, that's when Keigo rolls up his sleeve and kisses you softly. If you pitch a fit, he'll shush it away. Both wrists are kissed, and both thighs are placed reverently on his shoulders. 

"Why are you doing that," you ask.

"Because I like you a whole lot, dummy," he answers, pecking a kiss on your tummy. "Let me show you how much?"

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

When it comes down to it, Keigo is a hero. His career comes first, so quickies are a delightful inevitability in this line of work. Given his particular gift for espionage and the equipment he carries to boot (feathers, baby), the chances of anyone catching him in the act are slim enough to slide under the door to the broom closet he's fucking your brains out in.

But make no mistake, just because Keigo can break you down quickly doesn't mean he prefers it. He'd much rather take you in his bed achingly, ironically slow for a man so beloved for his speed. He'd rather be meticulous with you, but he can't always get what he wants exactly when he wants it. Self control is unfortunately a thing he has to consider, he'd sigh.

He's still going down on you during quickies, though. No way in hell he'd deny himself that.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Keigo is quite careful with you. He cradles you in his maws like fresh fruit fit to burst— sinking his canines just enough to pierce your skin and sample your juices, but never using enough pressure to cause you any tangible damage. He wouldn't want to hurt his baby, even if part of him does want to deconstruct you a little; just not in a destructive sense. His preferred method of breaking down is to coax out your moans the way a gardener coaxes the sprout of his very own harvest.

That being said, once Keigo becomes comfortable enough with you to let the guard dog in his heart rest in your lap, he is open to a surprising amount, sexually speaking. Whatever it is, he's clever enough to find a way to make it sexy— and if a certain kink or position doesn't work out as planned, he's grounded enough to remain confident you can both get a laugh out of it together, at least. 

You just get each other like that, you and him; and fuck, if that isn't the hottest thing in the world to him. 

He feels safe enough with you to treat your bed like a playground and a temple all at once. Keigo stops and considers his new life one night as he takes the BDSM test with you, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a mouth still spilling crumbs from that night's takeout. His chest hurts from laughing, his heart is fuller than his stomach; and for the first time in his life, another person feels like home to him.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Multiple. Many. Numerous.

This is Keigo's forte, his wheelhouse, his territory. You're out of your mind if you think you can outlast this man, but it's cute of you to try.

Your attempts to keep your sorry little mind held together by willpower and duct tape for just a little while longer are absolutely adorable to him. He'll use that against you, too.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Keigo doesn't own any toys— well, he didn't, before he met you. A few painful months after he realized it was actually you that made his heart beat, he buys a fleshlight to kind of, sort of, maybe pretend it's you. 

Disrespectful, yeah. He knows. But it's better than the alternative. He can't afford to get you mixed up into his life; and if fucking a chunk of silicone every couple of nights to unscramble the plague of you from his head and make it normal (it makes it worse) is the sacrifice Keigo has to make, then call him Japan's number one martyr, because he's going to wring his money's worth out of the damn thing (and his cock).

Once Keigo gets over that thinly-veiled form of self-sabotage, he buys a couple of toys to use on you, instead.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Life's unfair, sweetheart.

That's what Keigo tells you, smile wide and gloved hands clasped behind his back as he encircles your bed.

He adores his handiwork, tied up, gagged, and stuffed in every orifice. He's not a sadist, he swears! He just wants to… Overwhelm you a little. It's fun! And it's not Keigo's fault, really, that he likes to play with his food.

Honestly, he's doing you a favor by teasing you to bits! You like it, don't you? All pouts and "please"s, but the moment he takes away that stimulation you nearly throw a fit (how adorable. Keigo adores his little brat.)

The only comfort granted to you is the sound of his voice, all buttery rich and familiar; but even that notion carries a caveat. The words he decides to spill aren't exactly fair. Condescending bits of praise he knows will get you to whimper for him just right, questions he knows you can't answer properly in this state…

Point is, Keigo will use every resource available to be unfair to you because he's the worst combination of perfectionist and pain in the fucking ass. If he doesn't edge you up to the damn millisecond before an orgasm, Keigo won't consider it a job well done; and a job insufficiently done is not a job done at all. He'll have to give it another go until he does it right. 

… And another, and another, for good measure.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Keigo is loud. 

He's embarrassingly, heart-wrenchingly loud. The oh-god-did-I-leave-the-window-open kind of loud, especially when he subs. He's such a fucking baby about it; like he's crying for attention, for you. Poor thing. Whimpering, moaning, sniffling for attention like a puppy with its tail between its legs peeking from between a dog crate's bars.

Keigo never was one to hold himself back or keep his mouth shut— he's not the shy type, exactly— and you look like the type of person to be into that kind of shit, anyway, he'd attest later with an infuriating smile. 

Is he wrong? He rarely is. Bastard.

But regardless, Keigo tends to run his mouth. His voice is his most precious weapon to use against you when he's on top, too— sharper than any feather he's ever grown, that's for damn sure. His dirty talk reveals his silver tongue and charisma more than anything.

Keigo is a switch, but he enjoys the luxury of changing your mood quite quickly with his voice alone. He doesn't have to try hard at all to get you into subspace or domspace, really. All it takes is a "make me" to get you to be mean to him, a "please" to get you to pamper him, a "watch it" to get you to shrink, a "poor baby" to get you to melt.

He's not the only one that's well-trained, it seems.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

His wings puff up a little when he cums. Like a Ghibli character, yeah.

When he's babbling while he gets a good lay, dick wet and balls deep into a real good fuck, Keigo's wings shudder from the shoulderblades to the wingtips. They flap a few times for good measure, uncontrolled with arousal. It's not like he couldn't suppress the instinct to do so. It's just that he knows it drives you wild to see him as authentic and raw as he wishes he could be. 

It's a little unconscious, but moving his wings during sex also entices your hands to play with them a little. You always did like to fidget, and what better way to peacock in front of his precious partner than to flap their favorite fidget toy within arm's reach? 

It's mutually beneficial, thank you very much. You get a little something to grip on to while he blows your back out, and Keigo gets to blow his load while you tug at an erogenous zone arguably more sensitive than his cock. 

It's a win-win.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

The wishful thinking answer is that he is big but not like, ouch big, about 6 inches or so. HOWEVER, realistically, this is not the case. There is evidence to consider.

His pants are very baggy. This raises questions. Nobody wears pants that baggy at the crotch all the fucking time unless they are packing. He also carries a certain energy with him. BDE or whatever. So this bumps him up to about 6.5-7 inches as an estimate. But honestly, it's difficult to say! Because Keigo is also not particularly tall or anything.

It curves a bit upward when he's rock hard and it slaps against his stomach when he's on his back. Mostly smooth save for a few prominent veins. Nothing crazy, but enough to be visually appealing or trace if you want to. His dick is ever so slightly darker than the rest of him and a bit flushed, especially at the tip. The head is proportional/average and swells darker when he's hard or edged.

Huge breeder balls. They're sensitive, too. And he gives insane cumshots. Like, he cums a lot. A lot. His backshots are out of this world. Fat, sticky ropes. A gift for his breeding kink, truly. 

He has a very, very pretty dick. Like the kind you'd look at and go "wow, congrats man" and give him a firm handshake. The kind of dick you stick a little blue award ribbon that says "best in show" on and pop a confetti popper.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not very high at all, interestingly. It's pretty par for the course, for a man his age; if not a bit dampered at times by his constant business and overworked nature.

When Keigo gets into it, he gets into it, sure, but his drive isn't really on the higher side. It's more of an "on" and "off" switch that he has a pretty solid handle on. His cool head up top tends to trump the hot one between his legs. 

Well. You kind of throw a monkey wrench in that whole system, but that's okay. No, really, it's cool. He still is able to begrudgingly do the same old routine, this time through gritted teeth and with a head nearly thunked against the wall in agonized frustration.

When you send him racy pics before his afternoon patrol, it technically is possible for him to will his boner down and think of something else. And that is what he ultimately decides to do— just with a little footnote tucked away for later. 

He'll get you back. He always does.

- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Eepy. Falls asleep on top of you, cradled like a teddy bear. Zzzzz.

#✒ writing #smut #🌶 spice #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #minors dni

[murdockparker]

Our Cottage

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: A first anniversary is nearly as important and memorable as the wedding day—if only she had remembered it. Or, at the very least, hoped her husband also forgot. Knowing her husband? Unlikely.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: fluffy fluff!! cheesy as cheese gets I'm afraid, mentions and illusions of sex but no smut (sorry babes maybe next time)

A/N: Another self indulgent fic for me myself and I. You're welcome to read it if you want I guess—I have nothing else to say about it

__

The room was too fragrant. 

Maybe it was her sensitive sense of smell that had awoken her, but something about the near ten bouquets that adorned her bedchambers led her to believe that both could be true. 

“What in the world?”

“Good morning, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, knocking unceremoniously on the door. “I do hate to intrude on your beauty sleep, but I was instructed to beat the drapes and I’m afraid this is the last room I have left to do.”

“No, no,” (Y/N) groaned, sitting up in bed, “I bet it’s time for me to rise anyway. Can’t sleep the day away.”

“You’re much more forgiving than Mr. Bridgerton,” Mrs. Crabtree smiled, entering further into the bedchambers. “As much as I miss the young master’s presence here at the estate, if he found out that I awoke you early,” she laughed quietly, “I reckon the mister and I would be packing our bags before nightfall.”

“Oh please,” (Y/N) peeled the covers off of her body, stretching her legs, “Benedict loves you both dearly—”

“But he loves you more,” the woman points, making good work of taking the drapes off the wall. “Why, do you think Mr. Bridgerton would purchase the same amount of flowers for me?”

She looks closer at the bouquets—all full of a different variety of blooms. Most filled with her favorites, but a handful were a collection of his favorites as well. “Why did Benedict purchase all of these flowers, anyway? It seems excessive…”

Mrs. Crabtree’s smile seemed secretive at first, fading in realization after looking Mrs. Bridgerton in the eyes. “Oh, my dear, you’re serious.”

“Benedict is usually known for romantic gestures,” (Y/N) said indifferently, “I do not recall a time he did something quite like this, though.”

“Well, I can recall a time Mr. Crabtree and I had to clean up a shocking amount of paint and a few precarious handprints across his study…”

She wished she was still in bed, wanting nothing more than to pull the covers over her bright red face. It was one of the many nights of their honeymoon—Benedict had the bright idea to try and paint with their bodies instead of brushes. She thought he had the decency to clean it all up in the morning. She thought, anyhow.

“I-I’m sorry you had to clean up such a mess,” (Y/N) said, praying the apology could transcend lifetimes. “I will be sure to let Benedict know he needs to be more careful with his oils.”

“Oh, your love keeps me young, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “But as I was saying—do you really not realize why your husband had purchased so many flowers?”

“Not a clue.”

“Perhaps it isn’t my place,” Mrs. Crabtree said slowly. “But you and the master have been married for a year now.”

“Yes, yes,” (Y/N) waved. “Nearly year of marital bliss—”

“A year ago, today.”

“Today is… surely not…”

Noticing a perfectly placed card in the bouquet on her nightstand, she grabbed it and quickly sped over the looping font.

~

Dearest,

I hope these blooms find you well, I instructed the Crabtrees to be extra careful in their delivery this morn. As exquisite as the flowers may be, and I insisted on their exquisiteness, they could never hold a candle to you. Light of my life and song of my heart, how pleasantly perfect the last year has been. 

Happy anniversary, my love.

Yours forever,

B

~

Their anniversary. Their first anniversary, and she had completely forgotten about it.

“Mr. Bridgerton is still visiting Kent until this evening,” Mrs. Crabtree explained, as if the young missus didn’t know. “I’m sure that provides ample time to prepare something for his arrival, at the very least twelve hours give or take.”

“How could I have forgotten?” (Y/N) was beside herself, forgetting her anniversary? Her first anniversary? Surely it wasn’t an omen of some kind. She was holding onto his note rather tightly. “What kind of a wife am I?”

“Not a terrible one,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “Why, I recall forgetting quite a few of my anniversaries as well.”

“Not your first one though, correct?”

“Well, no—”

“We need to go to town,” (Y/N) said determinedly, flinging her closet open, eyes scanning over every sensible dress she owned. “I need to figure out a way to top whatever spectacle my husband has planned for this evening.”

“I’ll call for a carriage,” Mrs. Crabtree sighed, knowing full well that the drapes will not get finished this afternoon.

_

“If we were in London, why, I’d have hundreds of choices on what to get Benedict,” (Y/N) said, skimming through the few booths at the market. Life out in the country was agreeable, favorable even, but it was moments like these that she truly missed the convenience of living in such a populated place. “I just do not see how I am to make a gift with anything here.”

“Perhaps, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, carrying a basket full of fresh fruit and veg—taking every opportunity of the market while they’re out, “perhaps you should try gifting something from the heart?”

“What to wives usually get their husbands for the first anniversary?” (Y/N) asked absentmindedly, fingers running over a healthy pile of apples.

“I find that most women in your place have the pleasure of gifting news of an heir right around or before the year mark,” Mrs. Crabtree said, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips. “I don’t suppose you can surprise Mr. Bridgerton with such news?”

Her face went red. “No. Decidedly not.”

“Shame,” Mrs. Crabtree clicked, “I was rather hoping to be doting on a babe sometime soon…”

“What did you give Mr. Crabtree for your anniversary?” (Y/N) tried to change the subject, ignoring the perfect thought of a little baby with Benedict’s eyes. Perhaps they would have her nose? Her smile?

“Well,” the older woman’s face lit up, “our Henry was the best kind of gift—for me or Mr. Crabtree. I wish I could be more help in that regard, dear.”

Defeated, (Y/N) threw a handful of apples into her basket. The apples weren’t even all that good this time of year. Perhaps she could convince Mrs. Crabtree to bake a pie. Either way, a snack for the horses and their hard work this morning.  

“Please forgive me for speaking out of turn, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree spoke quietly, “but your husband loves you dearly, I am quite sure he would be most content with any gift you give him.”

“Oh I am sure he would be well suited to accept anything I made or purchased,” (Y/N) agreed. “I rather think I could sneeze on a piece of parchment and he’d write to the National Gallery to induct it into their collection.”

“He would,” Mrs. Crabtree agreed, holding back a laugh.

“Why did I marry such a thoughtful man?” (Y/N) groaned, fist clenching tighter on her basket. “I am destined to be in this predicament every year until the day I perish, aren’t I?”

“To be in a happy marriage, ma’am?”

“To have to deal with my inadequacy for gifts,” she corrected. “We are but a competitive match, after all. Chess is a blood sport with us,” (Y/N) laughed, recalling the last time they had played the game. They both were of the same mind, irritating as it were, it was as if they were playing themselves. It usually ended well regardless, with one under the other in the bedroom. “He probably has been planning something since we were wed, I’m sure. How do I ever top such a thing?”

“Might I suggest the baby narrative again?”

“Mrs. Crabtree, I know you mean it in jest, but it really sounds like my only option at this point.”

“I cannot help my need to see perfect little Bridgerton babies around the estate,” Mrs. Crabtree said cleverly. “But I also know when that day comes and you and Mr. Bridgerton do end up having children, it will be the most welcome of presents. Just, not this year, hm?”

“No,” she sighed, “not this year.”

“Very well,” Mrs. Crabtree nodded. “Perhaps we should head back to the estate?”

“I suppose,” (Y/N) sighed again, kicking a stray rock off of the path. “No use in sulking at the market when I can sulk in the comfort of my own home and await my perfect husband’s arrival with his perfect present.”

“Chin up, dear,” Mrs. Crabtree laughed, putting the baskets away in the carriage. “It’s endearing that you care so deeply about Mr. Bridgerton's gift. I’m sure whatever you land on will be just perfect.” A tease of sarcasm, a tease at her young missus. 

“You’ve made your point,” (Y/N) grumbled, hopping into the cab. “Perhaps I should just accept defeat.”

“Oh, well now that won’t do,” Mrs. Crabtree admonished playfully, closing the door behind her. The carriage begun moving home. “You yourself said you were a competitive match, and I for one would like to see Mr. Bridgerton bested. All men need to be reminded that the wife is the true head of the house from time to time.”

(Y/N) snorted. How she cared so deeply for the staff here in the country, the Crabtrees were always a breath of fresh air. “He’s well aware.”

“Remind him anyway,” Mrs. Crabtree said absentmindedly.

As if struck by lightning, Mrs. Bridgerton knew exactly what she could gift her husband.

_

Benedict was exhausted. His family’s bad timing is never lost on him, needing his immediate attention at Aubrey Hall for one reason or another. His mother’s correspondence begged him to come urgently, a matter only meant to be discussed in person rather through letters. With a heavy heart he left his wife behind, knowing he’d only be gone for a handful of days anyway, even if he would be missing the majority of their anniversary day. 

Benedict grinned wickedly. They still had plenty of the night, however.

When he originally had purchased My Cottage, he never expected to share the less-than-humble estate with anyone else, but like it was meant to be—and he had a very good reason to believe it was—(Y/N) made it her own and took to the country as well as he thought. She had even made fast friends with the Crabtrees, who, by all regards, Benedict thought of as family. 

“Mr. Bridgerton,” Mr. Crabtree greeted, nodding to the young master exiting the carriage. Anthony had sent for him with a family transport—knowing Benedict would not want to leave (Y/N) without—all the more reason for his brother to agree to come to Aubrey Hall. “Welcome home, sir.”

“Crabtree,” Benedict nodded back, jumping down to the dirt path.

“How was your family, sir?”

“Dreadful,” Benedict groaned. “Made even more taxing by the two entire days of travel there and back. Do they not realize how far Wiltshire is to Kent?”

“I am sure the viscount is well aware,” Mr. Crabtree said, treading lightly. “I am also sure that they would not have called upon you for a small matter, either.”

“No,” Benedict sighed, rolling his shoulders. The trip had been a long one, his muscles ached. “It was a good reason for my visit, but it still pained me to be from my wife for so very long, especially today.”

“Ah, well, your missus has not been herself since you left,” Mr. Crabtree said. “I am quite sure that seeing you will be a happy reunion indeed.”

“Please ensure that you and your missus find your lodgings in the cabin, this eve,” Benedict said, as if the thought just occurred to him. Asking his staff to stay at the cabin by the pond became a regular occurance, especially after his marriage. “It is my anniversary, after all.”

Mr. Crabtree smiled. “Already done, sir.”

“Excellent,” Benedict said, trying his best not to grin from ear to ear. “Have a good night.”

“You as well, sir.”

Benedict knew that dinner would be waiting for him inside, Mrs. Crabtree probably having already made his favorites. After his day of travel, he was ravenous—more for food in this very moment than anything else, but he would settle for his wife, too.

“Darling,” Benedict called out, removing his boots by the front entryway. “Your fantastic husband has returned!”

Silence.

“Darling?” He called again, only to be met with the ticking of the grand clock in the foyer. “Playing hard to get, it seems…”

A shimmering of light caught his eye. Candlelight was emitting from his study, his studio, flickering from the crack under the door. 

Odd.

“(Y/N)…?”

He opened the door cautiously, only to find his wife hunched over an easel. She had a streak of blue paint on her right cheek, a smidge of green right across the bridge of her nose. Benedict couldn’t recall the last time he saw something so endearing. 

“Oh! Benedict!” (Y/N) said, nearly jumping five feet into the air. “You’re home!”

“I am,” he laughed, shutting the door to the study. “What’re you doing in here?”

“Cooking,” she deadpanned, posing with a hand on her hip, painters pallet in the other. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“After all my begging to get you to pick up a brush, you decide to do it whilst I’m away?” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I cannot decide if I am touched or hurt.”

“It was meant to be a surprise!” (Y/N) laughed, setting the pallet down. “A gift for you.”

“A gift?” Benedict mused, walking closer to his wife. “And what did I do to deserve such a gift?”

“You married me,” she said simply, wiping her hands of any wet paint. They were still covered in a kaleidoscope of colors, but all dried down and hardly worth the effort to clean at the present moment. “A year ago today, I gather.”

“Oh yes,” Benedict said knowingly. “That is today, isn’t it?” His wife grinned up at him, looking more beautiful than the day he met her, a day he could have sworn was burned into his mind forever. 

“So I’ve been told,” (Y/N) said. “I hate to admit, but I started on this later that I would have liked, only working on it for the last eight hours—” 

“You didn’t happen to forget our anniversary, did you?” Benedict crossed his arms, his voice teasing.

“Of course not!” She lied, keeping her voice even. “You are just an impossible person to make a gift for, that is all.”

“Ah,” Benedict clicked. He did not believe her, but forgave her all in the same breath. “I see.”

“So it is not yet finished—”

“May I see it?”

“No, not yet,” (Y/N) said, turning the easel away quickly. He couldn’t have possibly seen what it was from where he was standing, anyway.

“What if…” Benedict crossed the room, carefully opening the closet in the wall. “We showed them together?” He pulled a similar sized canvas from the contents of the closet, covered in a plain white sheet. Of course he painted her something, it seemed only right. She married an artist, after all.

“Yours is going to be much better than mine,” (Y/N) said, nearly melting into the floor. “I will feel inadequate comparing our work.”

“Nonsense,” Benedict scoffed, walking back towards his wife. “They were both made with the same amount of love, I’m sure of it.”

“Perhaps…”

“Come on,” he said, nudging her arm with the corner of his canvas lovingly. “On the count of three?”

She nodded. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

She spun the easel around just as Benedict removed the cover from the canvas in his hand. 

Laughter filled the room.

“Oh my darling, I could kiss you,” Benedict said, voice full of love, his eyes not straying from her canvas for a moment. “Granted, I have wanted nothing more than to kiss you since I arrived—”

“Out of everything we could have painted,” (Y/N) giggled, brushing hair out of her face. “We picked the same subject?”

On both canvases laid a landscape rendition of My Cottage, one obviously more well-done than the other. Benedict’s gave a sense of perfect imperfection, something worth hanging in a gallery or museum. (Y/N)’s, while being done by the hand of a novice in only a handful of hours, gave it the sense of home, the shared feeling the couple had every day at their estate.

“We share the same mind,” Benedict surmised, setting his work on a neighboring easel, putting both side-by-side. “What a stunning collaboration on our end.”

“You jest,” (Y/N) pushed Benedict playfully. “Yours is far superior to mine. A toddler could have done better work.”

“Nonsense!” Benedict said, pulling his wife into his side, kissing her temple. “You obviously put such care into it, no matter how lopsided the left side of our home may be—”  

“Benedict—”

“It’s brilliant, my love,” Benedict sang, turning (Y/N) to look directly at him. “I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.”

“Truly?”

“Well, I fear I am still waiting on my welcome kiss…” Benedict sighed.

“Needy, needy man,” (Y/N) bubbled, rocking on her toes to reach her husband’s face, all but happy to oblige. 

After a total of four days apart, the kiss was one that was worth waiting for. Saccharine sweet and slow, it was welcoming, it was home. Much like their first kiss, Benedict idly wondered if (Y/N)’s lips were always meant to be captured in his own—as if they were quite literally made for each other. 

“Oh dear,” (Y/N) giggled, pulling away from her husband’s embrace, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his jaw. He needed to shave.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” 

“Paint,” she said, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “Entirely my fault. I’m not even sure how I got it on my face to begin with…”

“Hardly the first time,” Benedict quipped, leaning back in to kiss her once more. 

“Do you really like it?” (Y/N) asked, resting her head on his shoulder—their attention somehow turned back to the canvases. “Or are you lying to me?”

“I would never lie to you,” Benedict said. She believed him. “But, I do suppose a few more hours would boast well to the quality…”

Another playful slap to his arm. 

“Where are we to hang yours?” Her hand grazed his masterpiece. He must have finished it ages ago, hiding it away for just the right moment. “The entryway gets too much sun—” 

“What about our bedchambers?” He offered. 

“No, I want our guests to admire your work of Our Cottage,” she hummed, focusing her attention to the beautiful wreath he lovingly added to the front door. She loved adorning their door with fresh flowers, a detail he surely could have overlooked, but still included anyway. “Perhaps in the drawing room?”

“Our Cottage…” Benedict mumbled happily. “I think it’s high time we changed the name to that, don’t you agree? Seeing as it is no longer ‘my’ anything, not with you here.”

“Considering it still is not a cottage in the slightest, I have a few disagreements on that alone,” she teased. Their estate was nearly the furthest thing from a cottage, nearly a small mansion. “But yes… Our Cottage seems fitting.”

“And where will we hang your masterpiece?” Benedict pulled her tighter into his side. “Shall we hang them side-by-side? Allow our guests to see just how talented the Bridgertons can be?”

“Oh I am quite alright with stowing this away until forever,” (Y/N) laughed. “No guest needs to see this poor attempt when the true artistry falls onto you.”

“Poppycock!” Benedict dismissed. “My wife worked very hard on this, I refuse to just ‘stow it away’.”

“Well, then where do you suggest we hang it?” She said, trying not to smile, his praise flooding her senses from her head to her toes. 

“I may have a few ideas…”

_

The wondrous scent of flowers filled their home once more, something that happened more and more frequently in the summer months, when flowers of all sorts were in season. Benedict made sure he outdid himself from last year, adorning each room in their home with at least two bouquets each, rather than just a load in their bedchambers. His reasoning? They only get the once to celebrate their second anniversary, might as well make it special.

“Should we move this one?” (Y/N) asked, holding a rather large assortment in her hand. “I would hate for her to be overwhelmed by the scent…”

“Darling, she’s fine,” Benedict said, grabbing the bouquet from his wife. “But, if you insist, I shall make an exception on this room.”

“She’s a baby,” (Y/N) giggled, watching her husband clumsily run across the hall to place the bouquet in their bedchambers. “I do not think she has the capacity to admire such a thing yet.”

“We want our daughter to be well versed, do we not?” Benedict said, returning to the nursery. “Best we start her on the language of flowers as soon as we can. An educated lady is a respected lady.”

“You’re impossible,” (Y/N) grinned.

“So I’ve been told.”

“God, she’s so perfect,” she said, looking over the crib with a look one could only describe as lovestruck. “How did we manage to make such a beautiful thing?”

“You did most of the work,” Benedict said, suddenly beside her. “I only showed up the once, if I recall.”

“Oh hush,” (Y/N) leaned up against him, feeling the warmth of his body touching her own. “A perfect anniversary present.”

“She’s been quite the gift the last few months, I’ll give you that,” Benedict hummed, his fingers lazily rubbing shapes on the top of her arm. “But I’m afraid that title still falls to the gift from last year.”

Framed perfectly atop the crib of their precious baby girl was the rendition of their home, the one (Y/N) had worked so hard on a year prior. While it had looked a bit more polished after Benedict offered his wife some very well needed advice, it was still lopsided and patchy, but very much full of love. He had hung it two weeks later, after it had completely dried and framed, causing his wife to sob tears of joy on the placement. 

Their daughter was born only nine months after.

“Our Cottage,” she sighed happily.

“Our Cottage,” Benedict kissed her temple, looking down at his daughter and back at his beautiful wife. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #hi i love b.b and no one can stop me #if anyone wants some wine with a side of this CHEESE come and see me

[frogchiro]

🐙 here!

👀 me making my own plot in my head for a/b/o cod.

imagine being the only omega on the team, except no one knows. and honestly? it wasn’t that hard to hide it in the first place.

always wear scent blockers. mild pills help, but having a lotion to rub on scent glands? makes you practically scentless.

act competitive when necessary, and back down when you know your losses are going to be big.

be caring. make Simon tea in the morning and a small breakfast for those who don’t consume just caffeine in the morning. soap likes to deny his liking for sweets, but make him waffles or cinnamon rolls and he’s on his knees immediately.

smile and be sweet. have happy little conversations with gaz about his latest interests. about the latest conspiracy about the Illuminati or his favorite game he played as a kid.

but not docile. docile is earned through respect. alphas have to earn the right to see you so submissive and pliant.

give Simon small smiles and chuff and play wrestle with soap and Gaz. late nights with price and paperwork. cooking warm meals after long missions.

the only reason anyone began to suspect something wrong was when you got sick.

headcanon that any omega and alpha will begin to give off pheromones when they get sick. it’s a little call out to the pack that you’re sick and you need to be babied and taken care of.

not even the suppressants and the salve can mask the smell of sick omega. It starts with a small twinge. a faintly sour scent that makes soaps nose twitch.

they can barely smell it. but they can see something is wrong from the way you look. bags under your eyes, a slightly ghastly appearance.

the way you move is a big give away. slow and sluggish.

finally it gets to a point where everyone can smell there’s a sick omega somewhere… but where?

in which case price has to wake you up because you were late to training. he was annoyed. a little peeved that you had the audacity to kiss when he had warned you last time not to be late.

last time you were late because you overslept. so this time the captain was going to give you something to startle your day into.

A soured scent fills his nose. telling him that there’s a sick omega and…

sick mate sick mate sick mate protect protect protect

provide provide provide pro-

gosh. price can’t get the sight out of his head. of you tucked so cutely into a small nest of military grade blankets and two pillows. your body radiating heat as you’d nuzzle closer into the pillow you’re holding against your face.

his inner alpha chuffs at such a sweet and docile omega.

maybe having a sick day would be alright… especially with your pack to take care of you.

hello octopus! welcome back! and aww, the boys taking care of their poor sick omega :(( they'd be quite distressed I imagine!

They are the alphas, the providers and protectors and yet it completely slipped under their nose that not only you're sick but also a whole omega too?? Unbelievable >:(

The second they realize your secondary gender and that you're not healthy it sends them into quite a frenzy; they're suddenly overcome with bubbling hormones and instincts they most probably never felt before.

It also means much to them than you could imagine. You being a omega, a sick omega, letting yourself be all vulnerable and open with a pack of alphas? It means you feel comfortable and safe with them, enough to show them your soft and docile side :((

Be ready to be fussed over like crazy, especially by Gaz and Soap, together with you they're the youngest pack members and when they first saw you curled up in your small makeshift nest, stinking up the space with sick unhappy hormones and burning to the touch these poor babies genuinely thought you were dying :<

Luckily Price and Ghost were there to correct them before they could barrel into your nest and nudge you awake; you were sick not dead and the last thing you needed were two hot headed young alphas on you.

When you woke up you were sluggish and slow; the cold did its job and made everything fuzzy when you woke up until you started to regain your senses and noticed that you were no longer cooped up in your tiny room with a few military-issued blankets and hard pillows but in a real big bed filled with blankets, pillows, sweaters and other things that smelled of certain familiar alphas; safe and warm. Judging by the overwhelming smell of the room alone you guessed you were in Price's room, a nice musky and woody smell, undeniably masculine and alpha.

You were still alone so you decided to just go back to sleep and try to sleep of the cold. With a rumbling purr you slowly fell asleep once again, maybe sick days and being the pack's omega wasn't such a bad thing?

#love them #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #simon riley #john price #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick

[dontlookatmytmntcollection]

Leonardo (NSFW Alphabet)

Bayverse Leonardo x F!Reader

First of four instalments of my NSFW Alphabet series. Word count: 2500. Some warnings of bondage, overstimulation, breeding and trauma.

Leonardo’s nature is leadership and taking charge, and that would reflect in the bedroom, despite his initial inexperience. Moment’s when he’s willing to let you take the lead or let you treat him are super DELICIOUS- but he prefers to serve and command your pleasure. Very dominant. 

Enjoy!

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) - Chemical rush hits him particularly hard. He’s a lot more relaxed and often smiles and laughs and asks if you’re okay, even if he was in a grumpy mood previously. Will press kisses everywhere. Learned very fast he hates feeling dirty, so he’s usually up and about very fast. But he also loves the intimacy of cleaning his partner. Fetching you water and getting you into a comfortable resting position, manhandling you over a towl and giving you kisses and nuzzles all comes naturally to him.

B - Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs or partner) - He loves your back and neck and collar bones. He could pet and hold and trace them all day. 

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum) - He isn’t relaxed about it. Will almost always stiffen up and go quiet. He’ll grab something, like the pillows or blankets and squeeze there. He knows he can hurt you. If he makes any noise it’s always on that first exhale when the orgasm releases him. Something choked and sometimes a little loud before he starts to catch his breath and relax. 

D - Dirty Secret - When he was young, he came across a shibari magazine. He still has it to this day. He thought he was into hard-core dom stuff, but then when he got an actual partner he would realize how not happy he is when his partner isn’t feeling incredible. Becomes much more of a soft-dom type. Lots of petting and kissing you while he holds you down and takes care of you, type stuff. But yunno, he was suspiciously very good at shibari in the beginning.

E - Experience (How much experience do they have) - He doesn’t know shit and he HATES it. So it take forever for him to actually want to have sex for real. Him not knowing what to do is very vulnerable and frustrating for him, especially when you get hurt. Communicating to him at first is like walking on egg shells. So when his dick is stretching you a little too far too quickly, you making a hurt noise or yelping out 'stop' it horrifies him. You gotta keep him on track and out of his head a lot in the beginning.

F - Favorite Position - Positions are one of those things he loves to experiment and mess around with. Even the crazy goofy looking ones. His superhuman flexibility, strength, and love for physical fitness will do nothing but assist. But if he HAD to pick a favorite; Missionary. But the kind of missionary where he has a thumb in your mouth and his lips against your temple while he holds your legs where he wants them while he grinds hard into you. Loves the power and intimacy there, and it gives him easy access to talk or bite. 

G - Goofy (How goofy are they?) - At first, not silly at all. Then even with experience he still appreciates the seriousness and intensity of sex. But Leo actually smiles and laughs a lot during sex. Lots of firm kisses and nuzzles, even if things are getting intense for you. His job is done when you can't stand on your own, have tears all over your face from how good it felt; but you're giggling and hugging him. Loves to flirt and joke with you, in and out sex. Very boyish about it. 

H - Hair - Beyond his desire to have things clean, he doesn’t care.

I - Intensity (How are they during the moment) - Outside of the first several times he has sex, he usually has his wits about him, so it is almost always intense for you. Sex becomes an easy outlet to release energy and strong emotions. That means you are the sole receiver of such things, and he likes it that way. Leo doesn't experience emotional sex until later in a relationship, and it will affect him very deeply; so be prepared to handle a very needy, clingy, and tired Leo for at least an hour or so. 

J - Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon) - He hates masturbating. He’s too paranoid and he always feels that he’s doing something wrong. He hates it, but he needs it. He knows it will take the edge of frustration off. So when he does; it is ALWAYS in the shower. He needs privacy and it’s easy to clean and forget about. It’s almost never on his mind until it’s in the middle of the night and he CAN’T. Makes it extra hard to sleep sometimes. 

K - Kink (One or more of their kinks) - One time he had you in doggy, and he was getting close. He had huddled all around you and had bit your shoulder when you whispered, “Breed, that pussy Leo. Give it to me, give me a baby-” His brain rewired that day. Knew kink unlocked.

L - Location (Favorite places to do the deed) - He REALLY needs privacy. And familiarity. He struggles to focus on anything other than your safety when you are in a new or public place; and sex is (almost) never on his mind when his family is around. Even if you got hands all over him. If he gets familiar with your apartment, he might venture out into odd spots around there if you live alone. But- he IS kinda into the thought of having outdoorsy sex. He loves the sun. Anddd he loves the water. So If you SOMEHOW convince him to stay in a lakeside cabin, or a super pimped up apartment with a private outdoor pool, with no one around, just saying…perfect anniversary/birthday present for him.

M - Motivation (What turns them on) - Like I said, if you get him some safety and privacy (usually your bedroom or apartment with the door locked) Leo will suddenly want sex with you like- ALL THE TIME.

N - No (Turn OFFs) - Don’t hit him, don’t degrade him, and the instant you say stop or no- he’s done. It’s actually a struggle (especially in the beginning) to get him back in the mood if he actually hurts you. It made teaching ‘what hurts and what doesn’t’ a little rough. He would greatly benefit from the ‘color system’ technique over a safe word. It allows him to check in and get assurance and feed back and much as he needs to- instead of having to wait for your explicit ‘no stop’. Also allows him to remain confident even if you’re ‘struggling away’ or shaking uncontrollably or making really, really sexy overwhelmed noises. Yunno...

O - Oral (Preference in giving/receiving) - Leo gives regularly (constantly). He takes pride in being…really good at it. However he LOVES receiving. He rarely - if ever - asks for a bj. But fuck, it’s one of his favorite things. He loves looking down at you and making eye contact with you while you stare at him and love on him and (struggle) to suck, touch and please him. It blows his mind and he thinks about it constantly. But he’s also aware he gets a little more reactive like this. His noises get a little louder and higher, his eye's roll back a lot, he twitches and shakes a tad bit more than he usually allows himself to. He thinks the loss of control is a little embarrassing. You think it's hot as fuck.

P - Pace (Are they fast/rough or slow/sensual) - This boy LOVES to drag sex out. He’ll slow down or speed up when he sees fit. Especially if it drags out your finish. Or gets you to finish multiple times. He will rarely get physically rough during sex beyond some hair pulling and manhandling. The roughest he gets is when he’s close, when he needs to speed up or grab/bite you. The bruises are always worth it. 

Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies) - His need for privacy and you’re safety make quickies difficult if not outright impossible. Unless it’s his season or ya’ll haven't had privacy in days- yeah, he’s taking you to the bathroom and you’re going to be very quiet for him, you understand?

R - Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks, etc) - Leo doesn’t like to actually be restrained. So beyond public/indecent acts and something that can ACTUALLY prevent him from rising to an emergency situation - he is down to try everything once with you. You sometimes have to beg him to be on the receiving, submissive side of things. But it doesn’t take much effort at all if he’s in a good mood. He will desire at least some research into some topics, but he’s already big on communication, so that would make navigating new things much, much easier.

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last) - All of the turtles have superhuman stamina. With practice, Leo could have sex all day if you allowed it. 

T - Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them?) - Leo was never ever opposed to toys. He’d be awkward about things being placed on him. Doesn’t really use them on himself. But he’d master toys very, very quickly, and would see them as the tools (torture devices) that they are. I also see him (with age and experience) owning his own small collection eventually. Mainly vibrators and rope, and I see him liking glass things. He thinks they are beautiful and easy to clean. 

U - Unfair (How much do they tease) - In the realm of PDA, when he’s trying to tease you sexually he actually goes the opposite than physical touch? His teasing comes in the form of super SUPER intense bedroom eyes. All while he’s got some ‘grumpy’ almost prowley body language. It would look like he's kinda irritated, like he’d be in a chair with one hand on his face while bouncing his leg. Then he’d look up at you and you’d just KNOW. Or he’d be walking somewhere on the other side of the room and he’s walking all slow and intense and he's giving you LOOKS to the point where you don’t want to look at him. It’s JUST subtle enough that no one seems to notice, but it’s hot. The type to duck down close enough to whisper, "I need you naked and on the bed as soon as we get home, you hear me?"

V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds?) - Okay, if you ask Leo this question, he’s gonna deny he makes noises. He’s one of THOSE guys. Thinks it’s embarrassing. But he’s a liar. He is very noisy. He wasn’t at first, given his background paranoia around sex and masturbation and how ‘unprivate’ his life has been. But during sex, when he’s out of breath he makes growly, frustrated sounds. But on days when you treat him, when you’re riding him or giving him a bj and he’s 'not allowed to touch'- his moans get a little desperate and almost emotional. It’s rare but it’s SUPER hot when he whimpers. He won’t make a peep in the middle of orgasm but depending on it’s strength, his next noise can be pretty loud. Sometimes he bites something or buries his face in you in an effort to avoid letting anything out. While his noises are super sexy, watching Leo try to hide them is also kinda hot too.

W - Wild Card (Random) - He’s always secretly dreamed he could get married. Have a house, a wife and kids- His fantasy of having you married, barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen is something that will take him years to admit to you. Sex gets extremely vulnerable and intense for him very very quickly if you two start dirty talking about getting you pregnant. He will need an hour of recovery and closeness after, and if he doesn’t get that (if you two get interrupted or pulled away), anything that prevents him from recharging in your arms- he won’t be okay for a while. Leaves him in a dark mental space. 

X - X-Ray (what’s going on in those pants) - I am team cloaca. Leo's still pretty big, proportionate to himself, and that means MASSIVE for you. Despite the extra lubricant and smoothness of his erection, he takes great care to prepare you always for his size, if it even gets to that point. He’s not the type to think penetration is the best part of sex, and is happy to let it go for the sake of earning you and/or him a fantastic orgasm (or several).

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive) - He can go weeks without having sex, but that does not mean he doesn't want it.  The frequency of sex is not as high on the list as a lot of other things, but he craves it daily with you. His drive is very high, and he will pounce on every opportunity you allow. His self control, discipline, and life-long experience SUPPRESSING his sexual drive assist in keeping his yearning under control. 

Z - Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards) - Leo is huge on clean up, and he’s instinctively a provider so he is quick to hand you water, manhandle you on top of a towel, then curl up for cuddles and kisses and laughs. Sleep (especially deep sleep) is difficult for Leo. But if you provide him with a long, physically exerting session, a strong orgasm, your arms and legs around him and lots of cuddles and kisses, suddenly everything is right with the world, everything is going to be okay, and he always finds the best sleep like this. Always. 

#my writing #tmnt bayverse #bayverse #tmnt #leonardo #bayverse leonardo #leonardo x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt x reader #tmnt x you #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt headcanons #tmnt bayverse headcanons

[writerpetals]

behind the lens | 🔞

; optional male lead smut |  ☁️

w ; cam!au, semi-public sex, pillow humping, unprotected sex ... this story is 37k words so like prepare yourself before you go into it haha i finally got this edited and im really happy to be reposting it because its one of my FAVORITE stories i've ever written so i really really hope you like it! hehe

Your stomach twists and turns at the thought of another customer skipping out on tipping you when your finances scream that every penny counts in the moment. With a sigh of complete frustration, you swipe up the receipt they left for you on the messy table, swearing you will lose your head if you see another blank line above the total, or God forbid, another bible verse scribbled on the thin piece of paper with a pamphlet tucked beneath to promote a church. 

“Another shitty customer?” The other waitress on shift Sara’s ponytail bounces as she makes her way toward you, smacking her gum with a furrowed brow. Not like she would understand what it feels like, realizing as much as you roll your eyes and shake your head because she is brighter, and bubblier, and always manages to get the tables full of high school students with their parents’ money or college boys wanting to flirt, while you get the tables with the senior citizens. 

“Always,” you grumble, sticking the receipt in the apron tied around your waist as she pats you on the shoulder, causing you to press your lips in a thin line. The bus boy makes his way past the two of you to clean off the table while you make your way to the front to seat the next customer once the bell at the front door fills the small diner.  

“I’ll give you the large group next time, okay?” She tries to help, but somehow it still manages to make you feel so small. You smile and nod regardless, knowing it’s not her fault, and knowing she only wants to look out for you. If only fall classes weren’t approaching so rapidly, needing a way to pay for your next semester while managing to not be late on your rent. 

Luckily, the next customer at the front is a familiar face, smiling wide to let you know he is hungry, with his hands in the pockets of his jeans and a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Hey,” you sigh, shoulders slumped while your best friend makes his way toward you. “I can’t give you any free food. My manager has been on my ass about giving shit away. She is seconds away from putting your picture up on the bulletin to warn everyone else to not let you in.”

“What?” His smile fades in an instant, causing you to grin at the thought of him being banned after so many times of you sneaking him free meals. “But you know I can’t afford it.”

You huff, slipping into a booth in the back of the restaurant as he follows your lead. “Normally if people don’t have money, they don’t go to restaurants to eat. And you can’t get any free food from your own job?” You would think him working at the local supermarket would have its own benefits. Groaning, you realize just how sore your feet are from standing for nearly twelve hours straight, wanting nothing more than to soak in a hot bath when you get home, or rid yourself of the smell of fried foods under a steaming shower. 

“Nah, my boss is a hard ass. And you know I am saving up money for my transmission.” His head falls to his hands. “Do you know how shitty it is to have to walk everywhere because you don’t have a car?”

You glare at him, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, because I don’t have one, either.” 

“Yeah, but if I have a car, I could drive you around.” He perks up, as if this conversation will somehow give him food, forgetting it is all pointless babbling when the two of you talk about things you can hardly change. “Jaime will kill me if I am late on rent again.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “He probably will,” you tell him with a shrug. “But sorry, friend, I can’t lose my job over sneaking you food. You know classes are about to start again and I desperately need the money.”

“I know, I know,” he grumbles, leaning back in the booth with a sigh. “Why is it so hard being an adult?” 

***

After arriving home and showering to cleanse your body of grease and regret, you still feel the tension in every limb, tossing and turning in your bed while failing to fall asleep. Which is unfortunate for you considering you have the early shift the next day, knowing you need to swipe up as many hours at the diner as possible before classes start. 

Groaning, you roll over on your back, blinking between staring at the ceiling, huffing with your body aching. All until you give in to the one thing that never fails to put you right to sleep, rolling to the left to grab your shiny, pink toy out of the nightstand before positioning your back against the headboard. Luckily, your laptop is where you left it that afternoon on the floor after you managed to sign up for the classes you needed for the next semester, quickly grabbing it to place beside you before a few clicks takes you to your favorite, naughty website.

With a press of a button, your vibrator begins buzzing before you shove it between your thighs once your covers are pushed away, warming yourself up as the tip brushes over your clothed core. Clicking through page after page with your free hand, you try to find a video that suits your needs. Considering you’re not in the mood for anything too wild, you click on the first amateur couple’s video you happen to stumble upon.

As you watch the two on the small screen, kissing, groaning, and moaning before his hand dips into her panties, you slip the toy past the band of your own underwear while biting your lip. Your chest heaves in a deep breath as the scene continues, watching him venture between her legs while she stares down at him, both locking eyes as he gently grips her thighs and her fists latch onto the bed sheets beneath her. 

Your hips begin to move as the two become more intimate, switching positions until he finally enters her from behind, holding her close with his arms around her as she moans and whimpers. The warmth fills your body from the toy between your thighs and the scene, teeth sinking harder into your lip to keep your own noises at bay thanks to your roommate sleeping in just one bedroom over. Your breaths deepen as the woman moans about getting closer, noticing the man’s hand dip between her thighs to bring her to climax, and just before she reaches her peak and just before the tension between your own legs snaps, the video fades to black, realizing it was nothing but a preview to the real video that you would have to pay to see in full.

Groaning, your head rolls back, aching between your thighs now to join the rest of your exhausted body, beyond frustrated and only wishing to sleep. With your eyes narrowed, you stare with a bitterness in your chest, though you will realize later how being so tired has you being just as ridiculous. Who pays for these videos these days, you think to yourself. Then you realize the quality of the video and the fact that it was doing just what it needed to get you off, so it’s no wonder.

Then a lightbulb flicks on in your mind. Your eyes grow wide, taking a deep breath as you press the button to turn off your toy and rest it beside you, quickly grabbing your phone from the nightstand where it had been charging. Reaching for your laptop, you skip back a few minutes in the video before snapping a screenshot of the scene of the couple making love, and your heart races as you find your best friend’s contact in your phone.

What about this?

You hit the button to send the message along with the picture before you have a chance to back out. Your insides begin to shake, and not just from sexual frustration as well as being overly tired, but from the idea that has raced across your mind to hit you like a ton of bricks. If only you weren’t in such a desperate need of money. If only you weren’t absolutely sick and tired of getting cheated on your tips when you work so hard. 

Your phone buzzes as it rests against your chest, nearly startling a squeak out of your mouth as you pick it up with shaking fingers.

i’m more of a facial or cream pie guy myself

Shaking your head at his response, you roll your eyes at him totally missing the point. But you don’t blame him, not even believing yourself as you type the words to send to him.

That’s not what I meant…

You bite your lip, wrinkling your brow and scrunching your nose until you feel the buzz once again.

...are you saying you want to do porn?

Then your heart feels as if it will leap right out of your chest. You take a deep breath, hesitating only a moment before you’re tapping away at the screen again.

Imagine how much money we could make.

The two minutes that pass after you text him feel like forever, but you finally feel the buzz in your hands, racing to read his reply.

we? as in… you and me????

?????

hello???

All three messages come in at once, causing you to gulp as you read the words over and over, wondering if you have just stuck your foot in your mouth, knowing you would never actually go through with it. But you’re desperate, and it’s the only good idea you have had in a while as far as getting money. You close your eyes with a sigh, heart pounding against your chest, stomach fluttering with a million butterflies and uncertainty, then you send him a simple “yes” before clicking off your phone to rest against the nightstand to rush to the bathroom to clean up. 

***

“Were you really serious?” You didn’t think he could storm into the diner any faster the following night, causing you to side eye him while you finished serving a table.

“What?” you ask through your teeth, head gesturing to the table of customers to your right.

“You know,” he begins in a whisper, leaning closer, “about making porn?”

You groan, narrowing your eyes before glancing down the aisle of booths and back again to see if anyone overheard. “Wait over there-” You motion toward a table in the back corner. “-I’ll be right back.”

He heads to the mentioned booth next to the glass windows, taking a seat while peering out onto the dimly lit street. All the while you make a stop at one of your customer’s tables to refill his coffee before muttering to Sara about taking your break. She nods to let you know she will cover your tables for the moment, and then you’re off to make your way to him, heart fluttering in your chest, stomach twisting, not wanting to have this conversation in public, but if not now, when?

Slipping into the booth, you don’t mutter a single word. He leans back, fingers drumming the table with his eyes low. There’s tension so thick between the two of you it can be cut with a knife as you nibble on your bottom lip to figure out a place to even begin.

“Think of it as a business deal.” His gaze rises when you begin to speak in a hushed tone. “It’s not for pleasure, but only for money. It’s no secret we are both struggling here.”

“Okay,” he says, the word lingering for a moment as he leans closer, resting his elbows on the table, “why not just be a camgirl on your own or something?” The mention of the word “camgirl” has your heart pounding twice as hard. Are you really having this conversation? You blink a few times, huffing, wondering if you have lost your mind within the last twenty or so hours. Lord knows you have been working nonstop. It’s possible.

“I think we could… well, we could pull a bigger audience pretending to be a couple.” His eyes pop, brows arched and now you realize just how absurd you sound, but you can’t back out now. The idea has been lingering for too long and the thought of an easier way to make money, a way that doesn’t leave you aching and exhausted and angry over no tips, has you not wanting to turn back. “People love watching couples together. It’s like spying on your next door neighbor that loves to leave the blinds open or something. It feels more real, and intimate, but still dirty like you’re getting away with something.”

Another waitress passes by your table before he can reply, causing you both to duck your heads, voices lowering even more. “What if someone recognizes us?”

“We can wear those masquerade type of masks to hide our faces.”

“And why me?” He gulps at the thought. “Why not find someone other than your best friend to do this with? Are we really going to go from best friends to… this? I mean, you are my closest friend and I don’t want something to come between us.”

“It won’t,” you immediately reassure him, straightening your back and raising your chin. “I am positive we can remain mature about this and plus, it’s just sex. We will be getting money for having orgasms. Who doesn’t want that?”

He tilts his head in thought before he grins. “I can’t argue with that logic.” Then he sighs. “What about… remaining safe?”

“We will use condoms. I am already on birth control. We can get tested if that would make you more comfortable.”

He raises his hand to protest. “No, I don’t mean-”

“I want it,” you interrupt, staring at him with certainty written on your face. “I want you to know how serious I am, that I mean this as a business relationship and nothing more. So we will do everything we have to do to keep safe. And, I guess…” You release a sigh, eyes lowering while piquing his interest.

“Hm?” he hums, brows raised and curious.

“I guess this is why I am asking you and no one else. I trust you, and this will be on both of our terms so we do this how we want to while remaining safe.” You bite your lip for a moment, thinking of how to explain it to him while trying to convince yourself it’s not the craziest idea you have ever had, even if it feels like it. “If you want to say no, I won’t push you, but as unbelievable as it sounds, I think we could make it work.”

“This is… a lot to consider.” He licks his lips, once again leaning back in his seat as he scratches his head.

“I know,” you whine, pouting a bit before continuing, “just think about it, okay? Tell me tomorrow.” 

He nods with that, agreeing to come up with a decision the next day.

***

It takes him until nine p.m. the following night to finally text you. All day he has kept you waiting on edge, and if it weren’t for another busy shift, you would have been texting him like crazy to find out his answer. So when he sends a simple “call me” message right as you step out of the shower, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest while clicking on his number.

“H-Hello?” He’s already muttering and stuttering. Not a good sign.

“Hey,” you greet him, lingering on the first syllable too long, showing your nerves while your face twists. “H-How are you?” You await his hesitant reply as you rush to your room, attempting not to drip on the floor with your towel wrapped around you. 

“I thought about your offer.” You perk up at the news, sitting straight up on your bed, holding your breath. “I’ll… I’ll do it.”

“Oh my god.”

“But,” he interrupts your celebrations, causing you to freeze mid lunge from the bed in your attempt at a victory cheer, “I want you to promise me this won’t come between us. I want to help because it’s you that is asking, and I need the money, too, but I don’t want us to ever stop being friends.”

“No, no, no!” you begin blurting. “It won’t! I promise! This is just business.”

“Alright, well,” he says with a sigh, “I guess… I guess whenever you’re ready.” With a grin, you hang up the phone, proceeding with your victory cheer at the thought of your plan actually working.

After the conversation on the phone, you don’t hear from him for a few days while you get everything in order. Checking your birth control prescription. Buying condoms. Dipping into your rent money to make your way to the nearest electronics store and purchase the cheapest camcorder you can find, then heading to a costume store to buy the masks. Even getting tested like he mentioned, while he did the same. He meets you at your place that following Thursday, and when you answer the door, his head hangs low as he rubs the back of his neck. 

You would think nothing of it if you hadn’t texted him that morning, asking him to come over while explaining you wanted to get something over with before you start your amateur video adventure with. He would have thought nothing of it if you didn’t explain beforehand how you wanted to get the awkwardness out of the way between the two of you, wanting to have your first sexual encounter with one another off camera before the two of you began filming. You can see the embarrassment on his face due to your suggestion, already flustered and you decided it was a good decision to make. He sports a shy grin, so hesitant to look you in the eye as he moves past you. Luckily for you, your roommate is spending the night at her boyfriend’s apartment which gives you two the entire place to yourselves.

“Do you need a drink?” you tease as he takes a seat on the couch while you lock the door behind him, elbows on his knees and head in his palms. 

“No,” he answers, then sighs, “I think that will make it worse.”

“Are you getting cold feet?” You settle in the spot next to him, knees pressed to your chest with your heart racing. 

“A bit,” he tells you honestly. “I never thought we would…” He gulps, and his own nerves cause your insides to shake, knowing you will be seeing all of him, and he will be seeing all of you, for the first time since you became friends so many years ago. For a moment you consider backing out, and you consider yourself ridiculous for even coming up with the idea in the first place. But with the idea comes a light at the end of the tunnel which is payment for your school, and books, and money for his transmission. With a gulp, you tell yourself you can’t turn back now.

“I know,” you exhale, nibbling on your bottom lip for a moment. “Should we…”

“Uh, yeah.” He nods once with his lips pressed in a line, standing from his spot on the sofa as you do the same. “Let’s just get it over with.”

On shaking legs, the two of you head down the hall to make it to your bedroom, already having prepared a condom resting against your nightstand. He takes a deep breath while closing the door behind him, and you linger near the foot of the bed, waiting for him to move. 

“Are you sure about this?” He steps toward you, taking his time as if his knees will give out beneath him at any second, but maybe his voice will give way to the shakiness first.

You nod, inhaling deeply. “I’m sure.” Then your eyes fall to the floor. “You can back out if you want. I won’t be upset.” Your heart hammers away inside your chest with every word, knowing once you take the next step, there’s no second guessing and no turning back. Even if you want to remain mature adults about the situation, and even if you both agreed it is only business, you know once you do this with him, it can never be as it used to be. 

“I don’t want to back out.” He brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you can feel the way his hand trembles. “Should we… should we kiss?”

With a gulp, you tell him yes in a slow, hesitant nod. Then he leans in, raising your chin with a single finger before his lips press to your own, but not before your noses bump together, causing you to groan. He repositions his head, tilting farther until he is comfortable, but the nerves take over, and he doesn’t move an inch as he kisses you. The butterflies swarm in your stomach, keeping you frozen from feeling his lips against your skin for the first time, all until you scream at yourself to move, kiss him harder, do something to stop the way your heart flutters. 

You lean in, attempting to deepen the kiss, but his own worries keep him stiff. Feeling as if you’re kissing a statue, you finally pull away with a sigh, giving up for the moment.

“Maybe we shouldn’t kiss.” It seems too intimate, you think. It’s only business, and you don’t need to kiss him anyway. He agrees with a nod, straightening his back as his arms fall to his side. For a few moments, you both remain still, quiet, allowing the tension between the two of you to build until you finally snap.

“It’s not a big deal,” you tell him, even if you’re trying to convince yourself, “it’s just sex.” Then you peel your shirt over your head, leaving you in a lacy, red bra that causes his eyes to grow wide. Before he has a chance to speak, you’re already unbuttoning your jean shorts, pushing them down your legs to kick off of one foot. He takes in your matching panties with a slacked jaw, before his tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip. 

He follows your lead, even if he lacks the same, fake confidence you possess in the moment. He grips the collar of his shirt to pull over his head, tossing it aside, and then he tugs on the button of his jeans. As you reach around to begin unclasping your bra, you notice the prominent bulge beneath his black boxer briefs once his jeans fall to his ankles.

“Jesus, how can you already be so hard?” You study the outline, the curve of his arousal, and the thick tip at the end you just can’t miss, noticing it twitch the moment your eyes are on him.

“I’ve been hard since you sent me that pic,” he groans, clenching his jaw. “It’s been a constant state of arousal just thinking about everything we’re about to do.”

“Oh, be quiet,” you shush him, rolling your eyes just as the straps of your bra slip from your shoulders. His eyes pop at the sight, looking between each of your breasts with a lick of his lips, the sudden view causing him to freeze with his thumbs in the band of his boxers. His eyes fall over each of your hardened nipples, and your chest heaves from the fire igniting in his eyes. 

“Don’t… don’t just stare at me,” you begin to whine, almost pouting, but not shielding your body. “God… maybe we should have had a drink.”

“I’m not…” He takes a deep breath, never pulling his eyes away, and then he gulps. “I’m not staring, it’s just…” Then he loses confidence, gaze lowering to the ground. 

Just when you grip the straps of your panties to push the thin fabric down your legs, he slips his own underwear off, allowing his cock to spring free as your eyes grow wide, teeth sinking into your bottom lip from the sight of him so hard and ready. Gulping, you have to remind yourself to pull your gaze away because now you’re the one staring, as well as remembering how to breathe properly, before you take the leap to remove your panties, kicking them to the side to join the rest of your clothes. 

Together, the two of you stand with shy glances toward one another’s body, taking each other in for the first time in a whole new light. Your body flushes as heat overwhelms you. He gulps, eyes drifting from your lips to your breasts to the sight of your mound, then back up again, and it takes a few moments for you to gather the courage to make your way to the bed. Resting on the edge, you motion for him to follow. 

“Y-You can touch me… if you want.” Your peer up at him, noticing his eyes flicker with deep, dark desire. Even if you have lost all nerve, every ounce of courage you once had diminishing from inside while you scream at yourself it’s just sex, it’s just business, you guide his hand to your body with a grip of his wrist, placing his palm against your breast before urging him closer. 

Your back falls against the sheets before he presses a knee to the bed to settle between your thighs. He begins exploring, caressing your breast with one hand before a thumb brushes over your nipple to send a chill throughout your body. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat, or it’s only you that feels it pumping so hard even up to your ears and throat. A split-second of courage has him leaning in again, lips finding your own and the second time isn’t as messy. His tender touches light a fire in you, body flushing with desire before his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. 

“Do you have a condom?” he asks when he pulls away, nearly breathless.

From his hands on your breasts, it takes you a moment to reply. “I-I’m not ready yet.” You gulp, eyes closing so you don’t see the look on his face when you mumble the next few words. “Touch me down here and make me… make me wet.” 

You bite your lip, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as ridiculous to him as it does to you. It’s just sex, you remind yourself as his hand dips lower, slipping between your thighs to brush fingertips over your slit. You inhale a sharp breath, brow furrowed, jaw slacked, hand reaching to grip his wrist and he freezes after feeling your body tense beneath him.

“Are you okay?” Then he begins moving again, sliding his two fingers up and down your slit with ease and care. “Is this okay?”

You nod, not daring to open your eyes. “Y-Yeah… that feels…” You don’t finish the sentence once he finds your clit, concentrating to have it swelling with arousal beneath his fingertips. A wave of heat washes over your body, feeling the room shrink around the two of you as the temperature rises. 

Slow circles against your clit have your body tense, trying to control your heavy breaths in the moment and it’s not until the bliss begins to take over the embarrassment do you finally melt against the bed. Your limbs relax around him, eyes fluttering as he continues to massage the now swollen bud, and when he feels your hips beginning to move against his motions, he lowers his fingers to your entrance. Arousal begins to pool, allowing him to ease one finger inside of you. 

“Does that feel okay?” he asks, watching you nod without opening your eyes, so he dares to insert another finger to join the first, receiving a gasp filling the room in return. “Was… that too much?” He doesn’t move, allowing you to adjust with his fingers filling you up, but all you can do is bite down onto your bottom lip with a nod of your head, letting him know to continue.

He begins pumping his fingers in and out, keeping his pace slow and careful until he feels you moving with the motions. Your arousal coats his fingers the longer he works you up, and soon you can no longer think about performing such an act with your best friend for the first time, only concentrating on the pleasure he is giving you. 

“That feels,” you exhale, “really good.” Quiet moans begin to fill in your throat even if whimpering his name in such a way has you feeling so unlike yourself, hips rocking against his hand to give him the courage to quicken his pace. 

“Do you, um,” he hesitates, voice growing breathless from feeling you squeezing your walls around his digits, “like dirty talk?”

“S-Sometimes,” you reply honestly, thinking if he wasn’t two fingers deep inside you, you would have more of a mind to tell him it depends on the person. But he has the bliss filling your body and warmth spreading to every limb, and when he leans closer to whisper in your ear, you suddenly don’t feel like this is your best friend at all.

“You’ve gotten so wet for me,” he begins, deep and raspy, right in your ear before he nips at the lobe, sending a gasp spilling for your lips as you reach for him in an overwhelming burst of arousal. “Are you ready for my cock?”

God, you think, how is he so good at this? Maybe it’s his deep voice sending goosebumps flooding your skin or maybe his skilled fingers have gotten you so worked up, you don’t care what he says in the moment, but the words have your thighs shaking around him, walls squeezing his fingers so tight, ready for release. 

All you can do is nod with a gulp, and then you are tempted to whine the moment he pulls his drenched fingers from inside of you. The moment takes hold, embarrassment returning in a wave of shameful heat, but you push it aside to position yourself in the middle of the bed to reach for the condom on the nightstand behind you. Ripping the foil packet, you toss the wrapper aside while sitting straight up to roll the condom on his length, aching between your thighs at feeling him beneath your fingertips for the first time. The sharp inhale you hear from his lips can’t be missed, causing your whole body to quiver with anticipation of having him inside of you. 

You fall back against the bed. He settles between your thighs. And your arms wrap around his neck, allowing him to lean in once again to press his lips to you. The third time’s the charm, it seems like, finding a bit more passion within the kiss as he carefully moves against your lips with desperation, causing you to whimper against his skin while your hips press toward him, begging to be filled. He grips himself, lining the tip of his cock to your entrance while giving you one last look to make sure you’re alright. You gulp once again, giving him a reassuring nod, then he begins to ease himself inside of you.

“Wait,” you gasp, palms pressing to his ribs. He freezes, brows arching and eyes growing wide as he looks at you. “Go… go slower. Please” He exhales with a nod while you bite your lip, and then he makes his second attempt, taking his time to fill you up as the moment overwhelms every inch of your body. You tense, biting harder on your lip, but a slight whimper manages to fill his ears until he is completely inside of you. 

“Are you alright?” He presses his lips to your temple, easing the tension from within. “I can stop, just say the word.” 

“N-No, no, it’s okay,” you reassure him, but your tone sounds less confident thanks to your head spinning from having your best friend inside of you. But you give yourself time to adjust, breathing in, exhaling deeply, squeezing yourself around him to cause him to groan, and he remains patient. When you pull him closer by your grip against his ribs, you give him a confident nod. “Okay.”

With caution, he begins to move his hips, and it’s clear the moment begins to get to him as well. Or maybe he has been good at keeping his composure until this point, where his lips part and heavy breaths spill from within. Where he grips the sheets tighter as he holds himself up with two fists by your head, and where it takes him a bit more control to remain slow and steady, wanting you to be comfortable first and foremost.

“F-Faster,” you mutter, a moan following the words and it takes him only a second to comply. His hips increase in speed, rolling against you as your body meets with motions with whimpers beginning to spill from your lips. Your thighs tighten around him, you squeeze his cock with clenched walls, and your nails dig into his skin, curses spilling beneath a heavy breath as the bliss fills your body. “God, that feels so… so good.” You’re breathless, eyes screwing shut, legs rising to give him better access to thrust his cock deeper inside of you, falling into the motions of pure ecstasy.

His thrusts quicken, deepen, and become more sporadic without warning. His jaw clenches as he groans from deep within his chest, becoming lost to the pleasure of being inside you and having you wrapped so tight around him. All you can do is hold him tighter with nails leaving marks for him to spot the following day, moans spilling from your lips louder than before, hips rocking to meet his motions. 

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you cry out, hand rising to his neck before your fingers entangle in his hair, pulling his lips down onto your own. Your mouths clash, passion and fire snapping the tension between the two of you as you slip your tongue out, licking his lip before he parts them for you. Your tongues massage one another as you hold each other close, whimpering against his skin, tugging his hair, rolling your hips as his cock fills you over and over, and you can feel the tension threading tighter and can feel the warmth bubbling below, becoming completely lost in the moment, but you don’t want it to end, pulling away to look him in the face.

And when you do so, you spot his face twisted, brow creased, eyes shut so tight, jaw slacked before he releases a huff, hips stalling as he spills inside of you. With heavy breaths, he finds release as your body slacks against the bed, so close to finding your own end and suddenly beyond frustrated it is over so quickly. He collapses next to you a moment later, panting, chest heaving, trying to catch his breath as you rise from the bed. The situation takes hold, red hot embarrassment washing over you from what you have just done with him as you scramble to find your clothes.

“Really?” you mutter, more to yourself than to him, but he hears you regardless.

“S-Sorry,” he mumbles out of breath, “I didn’t expect you to feel so… wow.”

“Uh-huh.” You slip your t-shirt over your head before reaching for your panties on the ground. “Thanks.” 

“Do you… want me to get you off?” He raises his head to ask, beginning to peel the condom off to throw in the trash. “I can go down on you.”

“I’m good,” you tell him, feeling your face flush while tugging your panties up your legs at the thought of his face buried between your thighs. You aren’t sure if you’re ready for that or the effects it will have on you. “At least we got that out of the way. That’s all I care about.”

And it’s true, thankful you got most of the awkwardness over beforehand as you make your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. Maybe next time will be better, you think, praying your first video will go over smoothly, and that’s all you can ask for even if you’re aching with a desperate need to get off. 

***

“I think we should start with something simple at first.” 

You thought waiting a week would rid you of some of the embarrassment you felt for having sex with him, but it only seemed to create more tension between the two of you. Not to mention, you ended up having a session with your vibrator after he left, and all you could think about was the feeling of him inside you again. 

As he stands before you in your bedroom, the tension and embarrassment is no longer from doing something new with your best friend, but from wanting to perform such acts with him. For a week he has been the only thing on your mind, beyond anxious to start your first video, but more than that, desperate to just be close to him again.

And maybe part of it is because you have always felt so close to him thanks to him being your closest, and nearly only, friend for so many years. You have always felt safe and comfortable with him, so you put the blame on him taking care of you as the reason why you’re itching to record with him, even if the ache between your thighs becomes unbearable at times when the memories of a week ago flood your mind. 

“What did you have in mind?” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the door after pulling the gray beanie from his head, allowing the soft strands of hair to fall over his forehead, sending your heart racing. Was he always this cute? You shake your head to ignore the thoughts, sighing while reaching for the camera on your bed before picking up a mask from your dresser on the opposite side of the room, leaving his in its place since he won’t appear on your first video. Then you slip the white mask trimmed in matching lace over your face, hiding the straps with your hair as it rests comfortably underneath the strands.

“Foreplay at first,” you eye him with a smirk, a bit more confident than the last time, even if your insides are buzzing at the thought of going down on him while you begin to pluck the buttons of your blouse, all before slipping it from your shoulders and moving on to removing your skirt. “I thought we could do a POV video, with me giving you oral sex.” You tend to the clasp of your bra as you speak, deciding to leave nothing but your silk, black panties on for the first video.

His jaw drops, from either the sight of you undressing or maybe your words, and you have to keep yourself from laughing. “I… am one hundred percent okay with that.” Finally, a soft giggle fills the room, happy he agrees with your idea. “So… that means next time, I get to go down on you?”

The word ‘get’ only has you hesitating for a moment, heart skipping a beat at the thought of him wanting to perform oral on you as well. “If you want to.” Before he can reply, you make your way toward him, noticing his lips part to speak, but you cut him off. “So, how should we do this? How do men like to watch blowjobs? Should you lay on the bed, or do you want me on my knees?” The words begin spilling from your lips in a rush, losing the nerve with every syllable even though you’re trying to fake it while standing in nothing but your underwear and a cheap party mask. 

He gulps while you drag him toward your bed. “Yes,” is all he says, nervous laughter erupting into the room. “Are you asking me how I want you?”

You bite your lip from the way his tone suddenly deepens, only nodding while staring at him through your lashes.

“On your knees,” he tells you, but with his deep, darkened tone, it sounds more like a command, causing you to obey by falling to your knees before him, then handing him the camera. He flips the screen to the side and turns the recorder on, and you swear your heart will beat right out of your chest at any moment from the way he looks down at you, darkened eyes and a smirk on his full lips. 

“Tell me what to do.” Batting your lashes that can barely be seen behind the mask, you stare up at him, well aware the camera is rolling as he points it in your direction. You fall into the role, a bit more innocent, asking for guidance to have him playing his own part. “What do you want me to do?” 

“Unbutton my jeans, baby.” He points the camera right at your face as he speaks in a deep, needy tone, reaching to brush a few loose strands of hair aside to tuck behind your ear while you reach for the button to his jeans with a gulp, trying not to let it show how much the pet name affects you. You take your time, staring up into the lens while tugging the button, then pulling the zipper, all before hooking fingers into his jeans to ease them down his legs. He kicks them off and to the side before you take in the sight of his forming bulge beneath gray boxer briefs, licking your lips from just the outline. 

“What now?” A soft tone questions what is next, switching your gaze from the lens to his face, then back again. And if only to work him up further, you lean closer before you lose the nerve, staring up at the camera as your mouth connects with the bulge beneath his boxers, offering a few soft kisses over his cock just to hear him groan. You feel him twitch in anticipation as you do so, gathering up enough confidence to flick your tongue out once you reach the head, leaving a mark of your saliva against the material that you kiss a moment later. 

“Pull my cock out,” is all he says, words strained against his tongue and followed by a groan when you reach for the waistband of his briefs. You peel the thin, cotton fabric down his thighs, allowing his cock to stand out straight, twitching when he notices your eyes on his thick, hard length. “You know what to do, baby.” Again with the pet name, you think, feeling the goosebumps flood your skin as heat rushes through you. 

Your heart pounds in your chest, gripping his length with an unsteady palm before leaning toward him again. Your eyes never leave the lens he points down at you, kissing the tip of his cock a few times before your tongue flicks over his slit. Another groan deep within his chest has you shivering with nerves, not wanting to let the moment dawn on you so you don’t lose the courage to continue. Finally, your eyes close as your lips part, taking the tip into your mouth, which causes him to release a heavy breath he has been holding. 

“Fuck,” he exhales, deep and heavy, “your mouth feels so good.” The praise gives you confidence to sink down onto his cock, taking him further into your mouth as your palm grips what you can’t handle. Your tongue massages the underside for a moment, then you pull away, tending to the tip while your hand pumps his shaft. He can’t help but to reach for you, allowing the camera to get a perfect view of a veiny arm and hand, fingers tangling between the strands of your hair, but he keeps his grip loose.

“That’s it, baby,” he continues to encourage you, groaning, words strained and deep and becoming so, so desperate. “Take my cock.” You look up for a moment to see the flicker of lust in his eyes, darkened expression to match his furrowed brow and parted lips. He looks absolutely sinful, yet stunningly beautiful as the bliss fills his body, encouraging you to take him in your mouth again.

The second time his cock thrusts deeper, nearly causing you to gag before pulling away, but you don’t stop there. You take him in again, and again, controlling your reflexes each time until you adjust to him. The grip around the base of his length tightens, earning a huff when your fingers press harder against his cock and your tongue teases the head before going down once again. 

“God, that feels so fucking good.” The words become breathless as he struggles to speak, and now you aren’t sure if he’s talking for the camera, or the moment has taken over him. You don’t mind either way, beginning to bob your head up and down his cock while a tight grip of your palm tends to the rest of him, hearing his deep groans, heavy breaths, praises mixes with curses, and all of it has you dripping in your panties as you kneel before him. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna… gonna come,” he begins muttering, and you feel his body tense as he does so. “Open… open your mouth for me.” You obey willingly, lowering your hand and pulling away just enough to part your lips for him. He grips his own cock with a stern fist, pumping a few times with conviction, grunting and panting until the first drop of his release hits your lips. He spills his load into your mouth, thick, hot ropes falling onto your tongue, some drops hitting your lips, and the camera catches every second of it, even down to the moment when he begins to come down and you swallow every last little bit of his cum. 

Realizing he hasn’t pulled the camera away just yet, you look straight into the lens while licking your lips, making sure to clean every drop from your face with a smirk. Meanwhile, he catches his breath as his legs feel so weak beneath him, finally shutting the screen on the recorder before collapsing onto the bed. 

“Jesus Christ,” he exhales, running a palm over his sweaty forehead. “That was… holy shit. I didn’t think that would be so exhilarating to record that but…” His mumbling causes you to giggle as you make your way to the bed, but not before finding your blouse to throw over your shoulders, covering yourself up. 

“I have to agree,” you tell him, taking a seat next to his fatigued, flushed, and sweaty body. 

“Do you need help?” he asks, finally regaining enough of his strength to sit up straight, hands covering himself as the moment takes hold. Embarrassment floods you just the same, grinning as warmth rushes to your cheeks. “I have got off twice now and you haven’t. I feel a bit guilty.”

You raise your hand, protesting with a nod to dismiss his worries. “I don’t need to get off,” you reassure him, though the ache between your legs says differently, and knowing he is willing to help even when you aren’t recording has heat washing over you all over again. “This is just business. I’m good.”

He nods once again, understanding as much as he reaches for his underwear. “So, how are we going to do this?”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“Like editing, which site will we use? How much will we even charge people?” The questions have your eyes growing wide, realizing you have only thought as far as actually recording the videos, and not taking time to figure out anything past that. With a chuckle, he puts your worries at ease. “I have someone we can talk to about that.”

***

“So, let me get this straight,” the wide, sparkling eyed roommate of your best friend begins, “you two made a video pretending to be a couple, and you want me to edit and upload it for you to make money?”

“Yes,” you reply in a low tone, warmth flooding your face from just hearing the question as you sit beside him on the sofa in their small, crowded living room. Jaime has experience editing videos; it’s what he’s going to school for. When he told you his idea of who he wanted to help the two of you, you immediately began to protest, thinking there’s no way you could ever face him after he sees what is in the video. But it didn’t take long for you to realize you have no other options. Neither he nor you have much experience with editing, or adult videos, as Jaime does, and he is your only, and last, hope with this.

“Oh my God,” Jaime exhales, clutching your camcorder tight in one hand as his head leans back against the couch, fingers of the other hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is the greatest day of my life. Thank you. Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Shut up,” he interrupts the celebrations, shoving his roommate's shoulder.

“So,” Jaime begins again, a devious smirk forming on his lips as his eyes bounce between the two of you, “Do I get a cut if I am doing this?” With a wiggle of his eyebrows, Jaime causes your best friend to smack his lips while you groan.

“No,” you inform him, wincing while expecting him to immediately reject the offer, “but you get to watch us have sex for free. That’s something… right?”

“Do I get to come from it?” His bottom lip protrudes, innocently asking such a painfully dirty question.

“Absolutely not.” His stern tone has the younger boy frowning.

“What about after it’s uploaded? Can I come then?”

“Then you would have to pay.” His is talking through his teeth by now, and all you can do is shake your head.

“Look, you can watch it and come to it if you do this for us.” He perks up at the words as you try to reason with him. 

“Just… make it sexy, okay?”

He purses his lips in thought, then the wicked smirk returns. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Jaime rushes to his bedroom with the recorder, leaving the two of you to sit on the sofa and wait in miserable anticipation for him to return. Lord knows what he is doing in the there, you think, legs bouncing from nerves because you just can’t sit still. He offers you a drink, food, even a massage to relax you, but you decline it all, stomach already twisting while waiting on the moment Jaime will tell you it’s uploaded. Then comes the dreaded hours waiting on the views to see if it’s even worth it, and the pressure begins to weigh down on you as you run your sweaty palms over your jeans.

“This was a mistake,” you suddenly blurt out, jumping up from the couch with a shake of your head, “I’m so stupid to believe this would work and suddenly all of our troubles would be gone. What was I thinking?”

“Relax.” He rises to his feet with a chuckle to press a gentle palm against your shoulder. “It’s kind of already too late to be thinking it was a terrible idea. I mean… we… after all…” His incomplete sentences have you frowning, face hot and eyes screwing shut in humiliation.

“God, I am an idiot for dragging you into this. I’m so sorry.” Your babbling fails to cease, tearing away from his grip to begin pacing. “I mean, what if someone finds out? What if Jaime tells someone? And what’s taking him so long, anyway? God, what did we do?”

“Calm down,” he tries to comfort you, but all touches and attempts at relaxing you are only brushed over by slumped shoulders and huffs and puffs. “It’s going to be alright. No one will find out but us three. Jaime can be trusted, even if he is a bit immature and obsessed with this stuff.”

His words fail to offer you solace, groaning and pouting and continuing to whine. “If anyone at my school recognizes me…”

“No one will.”

“What about my parents?!” Your eyes pop, freezing in your fifth lap around the tiny living room. “Dear God… my poor mother.” 

“It’s alright,” he begins groaning, gripping you with two firm palms against your shoulders, “chill out for a second, okay?”

“We had sex!” Feigning confidence and playing pretend takes its toll on you, and jis jaw slacks at your outburst. You didn’t mean to yell the statement right in his face, but as your knees shake and your heart pounds in your chest, the realization of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks. All you can do is slump against him, cheeks squished into his chest as you whine. “Fuck, I am losing it here.”

“I can tell,” he chuckles, arms wrapping around you with his palm against your back to sooth your worries.  “It’s going to be fine, okay? I actually think that was a pretty smart idea. Well, when we got past all the awkwardness and the weirdness of having sex with my best friend, I guess. But just try not to worry, alright?”

You pull away nodding, finding comfort in his reassuring tone that everything will be okay. He manages to calm you down enough to have a seat next to him, allowing you to cling to his hand with a shaky grip, and when your knee begins to bounce again, his palm on your leg settles you further.

When Jaime finally makes his way back to the two of you, the dumb grin on his face sends your nerves into overdrive.

“What’s wrong?” You hop up from the sofa. “What happened? What did you do? Why are you smiling like that?”

Jaime chuckles, running fingers through his hair as he takes a seat on the couch. “I have to say,” he begins, leaving both him and you on the edge of your seats, literally, “that was the hottest thing I have watched in awhile.” 

Your body slumps into the couch while he groans. “So is that why it took so long?” He asks his roommate with angry, furrowed brows and a bite to this tone. “Because you were in there jer-”

“Hey,” you interrupt, calling his name through your teeth and shoving his shoulder. Then you turn toward Jaime, knowing he is the one helping and if you want your secret to stay safe, the two of you can’t be bickering with him. “So… is it uploaded?” Your tone lowers, but Jaime perks up.

“It is uploaded,” he confirms, causing your heart to sink in the pit of your stomach. And it’s not that you regret making the video with him, you only hate the waiting period, the fear of the unknown that will tell you if you made a huge mistake. “It will take a day or two to get proper results, but…” Jaime’s voice fades, but the smirk on his lips remains.

“But what?” He leans closer, hanging on to his friend’s every word.

“Well, judging from the material-” He clears his throat. “-it won’t take long to gain interest.”

At least he settles part of your nerves, knowing if anyone watching is half as entertained as Jaime was, it might not have been a terrible idea after all. 

***

Racing to his  apartment two days later after work has your exhausted legs shaking with every step. A busy shift left no time for texting him until after you clocked out, only sending him a simple message to let him know you were on the way before making your journey beneath dim streetlights. You clutch your coat closer to your body thanks to the chilly breeze, but you aren’t sure if you’re shivering from the wind, or the fact that you’re about to find out how your first video with him did as far as views and revenue. 

He opens the door a second after you knock, meeting you face to face with a hesitant expression.

“So?” you begin to question, wasting no time with greetings as you push past him. “What’s the damage?” You spot Jaime settled on the couch, his own laptop resting against his legs as he grins toward you. 

“Hello to you, too.” He shuts the door and follows you into the living room, and together you take a seat beside Jaime to wait on the news.

“Well, take a look.” He turns his laptop toward you, allowing you to see the website he chose to upload it on, reading the big, red words on the screen spell out XXX-Tube, before you notice the profile he made the two of you with your only video uploaded onto the page.

“Watch my girlfriend take my big, hot load,” you read the title of the video out loud, nose scrunching while he nearly chokes behind you. “That’s a bit… much, isn’t it?”

“I had to name it something to get people’s attention,” Jaime simply says with a shrug. He is the one with experience, after all, so you decide to trust his creative decision. 

“Seventy-three views! Is that… good?” You tilt your head to the side with a pout.

“I don’t think it’s terrible,” he adds.

“But most of those are from the preview,” Jaime corrects, pointing out that there is a difference between actually paying to watch, and only enjoying a one minute clip to know what to expect. “Only one person paid, so considering the cut the website takes, the two of you are now two dollars and fifty cents richer. Congrats!” 

Groaning, your body slumps back into the couch, knowing you have to be patient for things to take off, but classes start in a month and you’re well aware you don’t have time to wait out gaining an audience. 

“What do the comments say?” he questions, causing you to straighten your back while looking toward the computer screen.

“You have three,” Jaime informs you. “One person thinks you’re really hot-” Heat washes over your face at the words. “-someone wants you to come on her ass next time, and the last person is telling you to call him daddy.” Your face twists at the last word, groaning.

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to either of those things.” He grins as he speaks, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Really?” you question, eyes narrowed. “You want me to call you daddy?”

He shrugs. “Why not?” And you shake your head, reaching to pat his shoulder.

“Okay, sure, you hang on to that thought,” you tell him, thinking to yourself there’s no way in hell you’re calling your best friend “daddy”. 

***

He stops by your place two days later for your next video. Considering you haven’t come since the night you first had sex (thanks to a session alone with your vibrator), your body is aching for him by the time you open the door, dying to be touched and already finding arousal dampening your panties at just the thought of him going down on you for your next recording session. Once again you’re thankful you picked a night your roommate is having a sleepover with her boyfriend, otherwise you wouldn’t be so sure how you would manage dealing with what is about to happen for the sake of the video. 

Especially since there is something you’re keeping from him. 

“Um…” And it’s something that has been weighing on your mind all day, causing a shaky hand to close the bedroom door behind the two of you, while your chest tightens and you nibble on your bottom lip.

“Hm?” He is already getting into position, removing his cap and ruffling his hair, then peeling his shirt over his head to toss aside.

“I have something I have to tell you.” You heave a sigh, lingering by the door for a moment, but the tremble in your tone causes him to freeze, brows arched and waiting impatiently on whatever you say next. “I have only had two boyfriends go down on me before.” You don’t bother to look his way as you speak, voice lowering, but it only causes him to chuckle.

“Okay?” He tilts his head one to one side when you gain the courage to look him in the eye. “Why are you telling me this?” 

“I’ve never… come from it,” you admit, then step forward to add onto your reasoning. “And if I don’t come, I don’t want you to think it’s because of you. It’s me, I guess because I get a bit nervous or whatever, and I will just fake it if it takes too long or something, okay?” The words are spilled almost faster than he can register, making sense of why you denied his request of oral the first time, and why you become so flushed with embarrassment when he mentioned recording it. 

“You’re going to fake your orgasm?” He peers at you with wide eyes.

“Well, yeah?” You shrug. “We are fake dating. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Alright,” he says with a sigh, picking up his black masquerade mask from your dresser and placing it over his eyes. “Just let me know if you are uncomfortable. I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, the tension leaving your body thanks to his reassuring words as you grab the camcorder from the nightstand where you left it after leaving his apartment two days before. Tossing the recorder on the bed, you begin to remove your clothes, peeling your t-shirt over your head to toss aside, then unbuttoning your shorts to push down your legs. He makes his way to you to help with your bra, slipping it from your shoulders to join the rest of your clothes until you’re left in nothing but your thin, white panties already damp from picturing his face pressed between your thighs. 

You don’t wish to be already so worked up in the moment. You wish your insides didn’t shake at the thought of him tasting you, but you feel yourself aching for it, so overwhelmed before he’s even started and part of you wishes the idea of him eating you out didn’t turn you on so much, if only so you would have a clearer head. You can already imagine the smirk on his lips before his tongue flicks out, gaining just a small taste. You can feel his hands on your thighs to calm your nerves, and you know your hips will be rolling against his face once the moment takes over, and every second of it will be recorded. Arousal drips from your center at the thought, heart fluttering, images of him licking up and down your slit flooding your mind to where you barely hear him calling your name.

“H-Huh?” You turn to him with a gulp, noticing he has the camera in his hand a second before he passes it to you.

“I asked if you were ready.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You take a deep breath before crawling onto the bed, resting with your back on the two pillows he’s prepped for you. Watching him crawl between your legs does nothing to calm your nerves, spotting the obvious bulge beneath his jeans and you know he is already imagining his tongue between your thighs as well. Knowing he is turned on from wanting to offer you pleasure has your thighs parting just as his eyes lower to take in the sight of the darkened patch of your arousal soaking through your panties. 

The smirk appears on his lips, just like you imagined, seconds before his body dips lower to press his lips to your own, causing you to whimper against his skin from the suddenness of the kiss. Then his mouth trails lower, not bothering to linger in one spot too long, kissing your jaw, tongue traveling down your neck, until he peppers kisses across your chest. 

“I-I haven’t started recording…” Your tone wavers, becoming so breathless the moment his tongue flicks across your nipple, causing your chest to heave. Glancing down, you notice his eyes staring straight into your own, the smirk on his face widening.

“Then start recording.” 

He presses his palms to your hips just as you flip open the screen to the recorder, pressing the button once to begin your session. His mouth pampers your stomach with sweet, soft kisses, taking his time to explore your body with his lips and the gesture has goosebumps flooding your skin. 

“Are you recording, baby?” he asks with a flick of his eyes in your direction, voice already so deep and raspy, knowing he knows you are recording from the pet name as he falls into his role. 

“Mhm,” is all you can manage to whimper, pointing the lens his way as his tongue traces the band of your panties. 

“You’re shaking, baby,” he informs you, but you’re well aware of the effects of his lips and tongue. “Do you enjoy me tasting your beautiful pussy that much?” Before you can reply, his mouth lowers to your mound, pressing soft kisses here and there until he’s aligned with your slit. Your thighs threaten to close around his head, but he moves his grip to your legs to keep them parted.

A soft gasp fills the room from his tongue pressing against your panties, pressing against your throbbing, aching clit, but he only lingers for a moment before lowering his lips to your entrance. Tasting the arousal seeping through the cloth, he groans at the sensation, earning a quiet whimper in return the moment his eyes lock with yours. 

“Are you going to answer me, baby?” he questions again, and you aren’t sure if he’s performing for the camera or he enjoys knowing how worked up you’re getting, but you can only gulp to keep from whimpering once again.

“I-I do,” you admit, wanting to sound more confident than your tone and shaky words would suggest, “I love it. You... you know I do.” For a second you remember your own part, knowing you’re playing pretend couple and needing it to seem like this isn’t the first time he’s gone down on you. 

Hooking a finger into the base of your panties, he tugs the thin fabric aside to get an eyeful of your swollen lips and glistening slit. You keep the camera on him as he leans closer to place open-mouthed kisses over your mound, directly against the skin this time, before lowering to your clit. Instantly, your body tenses, a surge of heat rushing from between your thighs to reach your fingertips and toes from feeling his tongue and lips on you. Your legs tremble with a million buzzing nerves, attempting not to shake too much so the camera remains steady and focused. 

“Mm, you taste so sweet,” he comments, and for a split-second you imagine him actually meaning it instead of playing it up for the lens, “I love tasting you like this.” His tongue flicks out, eyes never leaving your face as he licks a stripe over your slit to have a gasp spilling from your lips. The motion is slow and steady, taking his time to taste, to tease, and to have you so worked up you’re aching for more.

A swipe of his tongue over the swollen bud sends a shiver down your spine as your thighs press against his palm, hips moving the moment his lips wrap around the hood of your clit. He sucks, lightly at first, and the camera shakes in your hand as his name almost slips from your lips. You know you have to be careful, not wanting to give away real names or identities, so you bite down on your bottom lip once his tongue flattens against your skin, massaging slowly, continuing to take his time in tasting you. 

“That feels… so good,” you tell him in a breathless tone, reaching with your other hand to slip your fingers between the strands of his hair. “Don’t stop, please,” you whimper, hips rolling against his tongue and the words cause him to groan between your thighs to vibrate against your flesh. 

The moment one hand lowers from your thigh to press two fingers at your entrance, your mind grows numb. No longer can you worry over the embarrassment, but only the thrill of him tasting you, not focusing too much on the camera or the fact that your best friend is between your legs, only the pleasure he is giving you. Your walls tighten and release in anticipation, feeling him coating his fingertips in your juices with laps around your entrance while his tongue massages carefully over your clit, and a second before he pushes the digits inside of you, you’re tempted to begin begging for them.

“Fuck,” you whimper, face twisting in pleasure from his long, slender fingers becoming buried so deep inside of you, “fuck, don’t stop, please.” You can’t stop the words before they spill from your lips, hand shaking as it holds up the camera higher to record the way his fingers begin pumping in and out of your dripping pussy. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” When he pulls away to ask, the smirk is prominent on his glistening lips while already knowing the answer, but you whimper and nod regardless. Then his fingers curl, sending your thighs clamping around his hand, to which he has to press a palm to the inside of your leg to keep them parted. “Are you gonna come on my tongue?” With that, he licks between your soaked folds once again, and from the way his fingers curl to him massaging your clit in circles, the tension begins to pull too tight as the warmth bubbles between your thighs. 

“Yes,” you gasp, chest and stomach heaving to give the camera a view of you beginning to lose your control. “Fuck, don’t… don’t stop, please,” you beg him, fingers finding their way to the strands of his hair again, tugging a bit tighter, holding his tongue to your clit as he presses on the spot inside your tightening walls that have you quivering. Your body tenses around him as the sloppy sounds as he fingers you and sucks your clit fill the room, mixing with the way you begin to whimper, cursing beneath your breath and crying for more.

He isn’t sure if you’re playing it up for the camera, or if he is really making you feel so close to the edge, but he doesn’t stop, tongue massaging back and forth while pressing harder inside your walls. When he feels your legs twitch around him, he continues his pace and the motions of his tongue, knowing he is hitting the spot to finally have your head rolling against the headboard and your back arching, nearly losing control of the camera and yourself. From the way your thighs shake around, to how you clench his soiled, wet fingers, he is now positive your reactions to his pleasure are genuine, driving him to suck your clit harder while pumping his fingers in and out of you, all before flattening his tongue over the swollen bud and caressing diligently to have you gasping for air. 

“I-I’m getting close,” you whimper in the shakiest of breaths, hanging on to the bliss spreading from your thighs in a wave of heat while ignoring everything else around you. The tension spirals in the pit of your stomach, every one of his motions intensified as your hips roll against him, begging for more, begging for release. “I’m gonna… gonna…” 

Your voice fades before you have a chance to warn him, the surge of pleasure erupting from between your thighs to rush to every inch of your body. Your back arches, hand falling from the strands of his hair and you have to remind yourself not to lose control of the camera as you come against his tongue, trembling as he continues to pleasure you through the high, and even as you begin to come down. It’s not until you begin whimpering once again does he pull away, easing his fingers out of you before wiping his mouth and removing his mask.  

He reaches for the camera, clicking it off to stop recording while you lay there breathless from the bliss. A heaving chest signals to him you need a moment, and he takes the opportunity to make his way to the bathroom to clean up. When he returns, he holds a damp, white rag in his hand to help clean you up, reaching between your legs even though your body tenses from the sensitivity. 

“Oh my God,” you groan, slinging an arm over your face so he won’t notice how the realization that your best friend just went down on you affects you. “That was…” You finish the statement with a sigh, causing him to chuckle while trying to ignore the way he remains hard and needy from performing such an act on you. 

“I am glad I could finally return the favor,” he comments, causing your cheeks to burn hotter from the thought of him getting you off, expecting to have to fake it thanks to your own silly nerves preventing you from enjoying yourself.

And then the thought dawns on you just how much you did enjoy yourself, and how worked up he could have you, not expecting him to not only know how to get you off, but to take so much time and care to do so. Maybe he really did feel guilty, you think, and then you push the thoughts aside before you overthink the situation, knowing it’s nothing more than business and it will remain that way.

“Can you take that to Jaime to edit?” you ask him as he slips his shirt over his head before handing you your own in exchange for the recorder you pass his way. 

“Sure, I’ll tell him to upload it tonight,” he assures you with a nod, then leans down to press his lips to your forehead in a chaste kiss, taking you by surprise. “I gotta go. Got work in the morning. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

All you can do is nod, lips parted as you stare at his back while he makes his way out of the bedroom to help himself out, and once he’s gone, you try your hardest to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. 

***

He calls the next day to confirm Jaime uploaded the video for the two of you, sending you into a whirlwind of jitters, shaking knees, and a fluttering heart while waiting to see if your second attempt has sparked any more interest. Thankfully for you, your shift at the diner offers busy table after busy table, keeping your mind distracted for most of the night and you become pleasantly surprised when you receive more tips than usual. At least it will cover what you took out of the rent money to pay for the camcorder.

Immediately when you get home, you stuff the spare change into your savings jar you keep on your dresser before making your way to peel off your clothes and hop into the shower. But not before hearing your phone buzzing against the nightstand where you left it, rushing to see it being none other than your best friend calling. 

“A hundred views in one day!” he exclaims before you can even get a simple hello out of your mouth. “With six viewers actually paying to watch.”

Your heart skips a beat at the news, wishing you weren’t so exhausted to show your enthusiasm just the same as him. “That’s amazing,” you mutter, attempting to peel off your shirt with the phone still in hand, tossing it to the bathroom floor before reaching to turn on the water. “How much money is that?”

“Only fifteen dollars, but hey,” he begins to reassure you, hearing his breathy laugh over the phone as you continue undressing, “it’s a start. Maybe our next video will attract more views since we will be… you know.”

You’re tempted to laugh at the sudden shyness evident in even his tone, if only you weren’t so exhausted. “Hm, I guess so,” you hum, now naked and running your hand beneath the stream to see if the temperature is comfortable.

“Everything okay?” he asks, curious from your low tone and lack of excitement at the news.

“Just tired,” you say, a yawn following the words. “Plus, fifteen dollars isn’t going to do much for either of us. We have to make our next video count.”

“I agree.” You hear shuffling from the other side, wondering if he is already in bed like you will be soon. “When should we record again?”

“Tomorrow night?” you suggest, hearing him hum. “I am off for the day. Jenny is going out of town for the weekend with her boyfriend’s family, so no roommate here. We will have the place to ourselves again.” You’re thankful your roommate isn’t home very often, wondering how you could ever explain the situation to her if she were to find out. 

“Sounds good,” he agrees before the two of you hang up the phone and you jump into the shower.

When the following night arrives, he knocks on your door with Jaime’s borrowed tripod in his hand, promising he will return it as soon as the two of you are done. He shuffles inside with a nervous huff, and you’re at least thankful he remains just as anxious as you. Considering this will be only the second time the two of you are completely together, and the first time recording it, you have felt the butterflies in your stomach fluttering away all day until the moment he arrived. 

“Where should I set this up?” he asks upon entering your bedroom, and even though you’re completely alone, you still shut the door behind you with a click of the lock. 

“At the end of the bed,” you tell him, a shaky exhale following the words as you run your hands over your skirt, then reach to grab the two masks from your dresser. 

“Got it.” He begins setting up the tripod and readying the camera while you begin to undress, slipping your blouse from your shoulders and pushing your skirt down your legs.

“Point it downward a bit,” you instruct just as he tightens the screw holding the camera, “that way it won’t miss, you know… you inside of me.” Your cheeks burn as the trembling words slip from your tongue, but he flashes a cheeky grin.

“My fake girlfriend is so smart,” he teases with a wink while making his way toward you once he is satisfied with the angle, and you don’t think you can blush any harder, ignoring the way your heart skips a beat. He takes the mask from you with one hand, his other brushing against your hip as he slips past you, earning goosebumps over your skin that go unnoticed. Together the two of you adjust your masks over your eyes, making sure the straps are hidden by your hair, and he makes sure his own is comfortable. “Are you nervous?”

The question takes you by surprise as you reach for the clasp of your bra. “Why do you ask?”

“Here, let me,” he says, reaching from behind you to unhook the clasp before easing the straps from your shoulders. “And I was only curious, I guess.”

You nod. “A bit nervous, sure. Aren’t you?” You crawl onto the bed, pressing your back to the mattress with your knees bent and thighs parted, waiting on him. Watching him walk toward the camera to press the record button, your heart pounds in your chest to remind you you’re way more than a bit nervous, but you try your hardest not to let it show. 

“A bit,” he admits, then presses the button on the camera before making his way back to you, peeling his shirt over his head in the process to toss aside. As he unbuttons his jeans, he takes his time, allowing you a moment to stare at the way the muscles in his arms tense, and the veins protrude to have you biting your lip. He pushes his pants and boxer briefs down to his ankles, full, hard arousal on display from just the thought of what the two of you are about to do. 

He hovers over for a moment, one palm pressed to the sheets near your head, the other beginning to work his cock as his mouth lowers to your own. The soft kisses he presses against your skin have you relaxing beneath him, the tension disappearing each second that passes until he directs his attention to your neck. The whimper that slips from your lips tells him how much you enjoy his mouth on your skin, working you up, easing the worries, and by the time he reaches your chest, you’re already aching between your thighs for him. 

“Your skin is so soft.” His fingertips brush your sides as his tongue circles your nipple. “I could kiss you all day.” From the way his eyes flick toward your face as he says the words, a chill surges down your spine before the heat begins to flood your body, starting from your parted thighs and working toward your fingers entangling in the strands of his hair. 

As his kisses lower, he hooks two fingers into the straps of your panties, peeling them down your legs before his lips press to your mound. A shiver of anticipation surges through you, gulping with your eyes closed the moment you feel his thumb brush across your folds. 

Knowing the camera is recording the both of you together for the first time has your body flushed, insides trembling, and heart racing. You know it is capturing every moment, from you laying on the bed, thighs parted for him, to him kissing your lips, your neck, teasing your breasts, and even to now when he begins massaging your clit with his thumb to prepare your body his cock. The pressure weighs down on you, but the thrill of the moment takes hold, not being able to stop the quiet whimpers that leave your lips, or the way your hips move to beg him for more. 

He leans back with his knees pressed to the bed, aligning a single finger up to your entrance before easing the digit inside. A gasp fills the room as he begins pumping the finger in and out, taking his time with slow motions while his other hand works his own cock with a steady palm. The sloppy, wet noises begin to fill the room, arousal coating his finger the longer he thrusts the digit in and out, and it doesn’t take him long to insert another, curling the digits inside your tightening walls to earn a muffled whimper beneath a bitten lip. 

“That feels… so good.” Your hips begin to move with his motions, becoming greedy for more all until he presses a palm to your thigh, raising your leg for the camera to get a better view of his fingers pumping into you. The new angle allows the juices coating his fingers to glisten from the bright, white lights from your vanity mirror, and the sounds grow louder as he thrusts his fingers quicker in your dripping walls. “I… I need you,” you whimper, the heat flooding your body rushing straight to your face from the way you beg him.

But with a deep groan, he pulls away, understanding you want him just as much as he wants you. He crawls over your body a moment later to grab the condom you laid out on the nightstand in preparation, ripping the wrapper open before tossing it aside. Rolling the rubber onto his length, he exhales a heavy breath, then presses a palm beneath your thigh once again to hold your leg against your chest.

With his other hand, he grips himself, lining the head of his cock to your soaked entrance before easing himself inside of you. “Fuck,” you cry out in a breathless moan, clutching the sheets beneath you the moment he fills you to the hilt. A fire ignites inside of you, needing him, and needing release, whimpering for more before you even have a chance to stop the words from spilling. “Fuck… fuck me, please.” 

The words earn a groan building deep in his chest, and if he questions the pleas, you know you can always blame the sudden need on playing it up for the lens. But he only gives in, giving you what you need, pulling his cock from within your clenched, dripping walls, only to thrust inside of you with more force, earning a cry mixed with curses. 

“How does that feel, baby?” The question is strained with every syllable spoken, repeating the motion of pumping his cock inside of you, hitting deep within your walls to have your back arching.

“So… so good,” you rasp, chest heaving and so overwhelmed from his words and his cock buried deep inside of you. 

“Do you want more?” He falls into a steady rhythm of thrusting inside of you as he asks, reaching to palm your ass and spread your cheeks farther for the camera to get a better view of him inside of you. “Tell me how you want it, baby.” The request has heat washing over you, gulping before struggling to speak, and the words spill from your lips in the breathiest of tones.

“F-Faster… please.” Hearing you beg earns a groan from him, all before he reaches to press both palms to the backs of your thighs, holding your legs against your chest while increasing his pace, pumping his cock deeper, harder, quicker to have your head rolling back against the bed. “Fuck… don’t stop.” Your cries fill the room, mixing with breathless curses and the wet, sloppy sounds of him fucking you. All of it is picked up on camera along with the sight of him rolling his hips into you, switching his pace from short, quick thrusts like you begged for, only to tease with slow, longer strokes, driving you wild as your jaw slacks and your knuckles fade from clutching the sheets so tight. 

“God, you feel so damn good.” He can’t help him when he leans forward, parting your thighs to settle closer to your body. He grips your wrists, pinning your arms above your head while his mouth cherishes your neck in the form of kisses, all before licking a stripe over your skin. The sensation has you shaking beneath him, thighs pressed to his waist as he grinds his body against yours, feeling him thrust deeper, fucking you with more conviction, more passion, than before. 

Even if the camera can’t capture his cock pumping in and out of you, it does see the way he holds you, whispering naughty things in your ear that you wonder if the receiver can pick up. His teeth skim across your flesh before he eases the mark he left with soft, gentle kisses. He groans in your ear, but it’s drowned out from the moans you release, flooding the room with noises of pure bliss. 

“Fuck,” he groans, deep and raspy to send a chill down your spine, “I’m gonna come.” He warns you with a hint of regret in his tone, as if he wants to make the moment last just as much as you, but when you squeeze your walls around his twitching cock, he can’t help but to huff, reaching the edge with you wrapped so tightly around him.

His jaw slacks as the pleasure washes over him, grunting once, hips slowing, brow wrinkling, and when his motions stop completely, you begin rocking your hips against him to receive every last drop from him. He then gulps, sweat beading over his forehead and his chest rises and falls, trying to catch his breath a moment before he collapses on top of you. 

And you think that’s it. Even if your body aches for release, you’re satisfied with your third video being complete, knowing you can get yourself off later if you need to. But when he pushes himself off of you to press his lips to your own, lingering for a moment before his mouth trails lower, you wonder why he is still showing you so much affection.

As he tends to your chest in quick, soft pecks of his lips, he carefully peels the condom from his length to toss in the garbage can next to your bed without missing a beat. You don’t question his actions, only closing your eyes and concentrating on the feel of his mouth on your skin, his tongue licking a stripe down your mound, and when you feel his lips parts your soaked, dripping folds, your back arches from the bed with a gasp.

“Fuck,” you nearly slip up, turning an attempt at calling his name on camera into nothing more than whine as your voice fades. You can’t help your reaction when he begins flicking his tongue over your swollen clit, sounds of his saliva mixing with your juices to fill the room. Your own moans drown out any other noises after a matter of seconds thanks to the way he begins massaging your clit with his tongue, not wasting any time aligning two fingers to your entrance to fill you up. 

He tastes you for the second time without giving you an option, wanting to get you off to leave you satisfied and you remember your words well from the night before, knowing he only wanted to make tonight’s video well worth it. But you can hardly focus on being recorded with his mouth buried between your trembling thighs. One hand holds you steady at your waist while he pumps his fingers into you, curling them, drawing out every little breathy moan and desperate whimper that becomes so well-deserved, you know you won’t last much longer.

“Gonna… gonna come,” you try to warn him, chest heaving and stomach tense, but he only groans against your flesh before pressing his mouth tighter to your slit. In a wave of pure bliss he has you barrelling over the edge, jaw unhinged as your cries go silent, warmth flooding from your center to your toes and head, before a desperate cry of absolute satisfaction fills his ears. Your hips buck while you clutch the sheets beneath you, gasping for air as the ecstasy rolls through you.

He doesn’t pull his tongue from your clit until he feels you quivering against his mouth, far too sensitive you almost cry out while pushing him away. With a smirk, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then presses his lips to your body once more. Each soft, gentle kiss over your stomach, your chest, your neck, to finally arrive on your lips has you melting beneath him, so beyond relaxed you don’t think you could possibly have a care in the world. 

“That was so hot, baby,” he groans into your ear, a deep whisper sending a shiver down your spine until you remember the camera is still rolling. It’s only an act, you tell yourself, and so you open your eyes to grin up at him while he stares down at you, a soft giggle slipping from your lips while entangling your fingers into the strands on the back of his head. Pulling him close, your lips collide for the last time that night, lingering for a moment, whimpering in a second, enjoying the feeling of your best friend being so close.

A moment later, he pulls away to make his way over and press the button on the camera. The show is over, allowing both of you to release some of the tension that night has been building from being so vulnerable for so long.

“Are you okay?” he asks while peeling his mask from his face, then reaching to do the same to your own when you finally gain the strength to sit up.

“I need… a shower,” you say with a heavy breath, causing the both of you to chuckle. 

“Well, come on, then.” He pulls you to your feet with a gentle grip on your arms.

“What?” You frown, eying him with curiosity. 

“Let’s shower.”

“Together?” He grins at your hesitation, then shrugs.

“If you can’t shower with your fake boyfriend, who can you shower with?” 

A giggle slips from your lips as you shake your head, covering your chest with your arms while slipping past him.  “I can manage,” you tell him with a glance over your shoulder before walking into the bathroom. With a flip of the light switch, you take one peek at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. Your hair is wild, with your eyeliner smeared and your arms still cover your breasts. The only thing you can do is laugh at yourself in the moment, not wanting the absurdity of the situation to affect you. 

“What about dinner?” He pokes his head into the bathroom, nearly startling you as you reach for the shower faucet.

“Are you buying?” You flash him a playful grin over your shoulder, noticing he at least has his jeans on by now. He presses his tongue to his cheek for a moment, then nods with a grin.

“I’ll buy.” He steps closer, leaning against the sink while you run a hand beneath the water cascading down to check if the temperature is warm enough. “How does pizza sound?”

 The question has you bursting into a fit of giggles as you stand before him, naked, the situation finally clicking of just how ridiculous it seems. He hitches a brow in return, eyeing you with a grin on his lips.

“So, no pizza?”

You giggle harder, shaking your head. “No, pizza is fine. It’s just…” You take a moment to catch your breath, wiping your eyes of the tears that begin to well from the laughter. “It’s really just crazy, isn’t it? Like, only a little over a week ago you were coming into the diner for free food and I was pissed about shitty tips. Now I am standing here naked, in front of my best friend - the guy who used to tease me for my hair being too frizzy in high school and I would give you shit for not having a girlfriend - after we just recorded ourselves having sex. Like, holy shit… are we crazy or are we really just that desperate?”

He blinks, taking in everything you say until all he can do is gulp. Maybe he hasn’t thought about the situation as much as you have, or maybe he is having an easier time telling himself it’s just sex. Either way, a moment later a wide smile forms on his lips before he bursts into laughter.

“Both,” he says, “I think we are both crazy and desperate, but I don’t regret it.” Then he steps closer, cupping your cheek in his palm.

“No?”

“No,” he assures you, “not one bit.” 

He leaves you to your shower after dropping his hand to his side, making his way to order your favorite pizza while you are stuck with a racing and butterflies in your stomach. Having sex with your best friend shouldn’t feel this good, you realize as much, but you can’t deny that it does. 

***

The third video does the best so far, and he bursts with excitement while telling you. He barely gives you a chance to wake up a few mornings after the two of you had spent the rest of the night eating pizza and reminiscing about your high school days. When he left that night, he promised to call you with the news as soon as there were results, but as you roll over while grumbling to see the time is only a little after nine in the morning, you almost regret agreeing to the decision. 

“Fifty dollars!” he exclaims as you mutter a hello. 

“W-What?” You blink, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to wake yourself up. “Fifty?”

“Well, fifty bucks from all of our videos combined so far,” he corrects with a chuckle, causing your heart to flutter at the news. Of course it makes sense the more videos the two of you make, the more in profits you will see, and the thought only has you yearning to have your next recording session with him. 

“That’s more than I expected,” you admit, yawning between the words. “How do these people even find our videos so quickly?”

“Jaime  told me it’s something to do with proper keywords and titles, maybe tags or maybe we are getting dedicated viewers, um, I don’t know. I don’t really listen when he talks to me about the videos,” he tells you honestly. “I just try my best not to imagine him jerking off to them.”

Giggling, you sit up in your bed, realizing that’s not even a thought that has crossed your mind. Considering everything else happening between him and you while you figure the whole amateur video thing out, Jaime seems like the least of your worries. 

“I guess we really did make that video count, then.” 

“Yeah, all thanks to you.”

“Me?” Your cheeks burn at the thought as you sit up straight. “Why me?”

“I was reading some comments…” His voice lingers on the last syllable.

“And?” You lean forward in your bed, as if he can actually see you trying to get the words out of him. “What did they say?”

“Mm,” he hums, “there were a few mentioning how sexy you are when you come.”

The words shoot straight to your core with a burst of overwhelming heat, stomach twisting and heart flooding. “Please,” you squeak, burying your face onto your knees while your body squirms. “I guess… that would be thanks to you, yeah?” He chuckles, from either your correction or the way your voice lowers to a whisper. 

“I think we make a good team,” he admits as your embarrassment settles. Even though you fail to mention it to him, you believe he is right. You couldn’t imagine getting yourself into such a thing with anyone else, happy to have propositioned him in the first place, and thankful that he agreed. “And speaking of, maybe we should try something more… adventurous.”

“Adventurous?” You hold back your groan. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll think of something. There’s a market for everything, as Jaime tells me.” His sigh spills through the speaker. “I’m not sure if he wants us to get kinkier to bring in more views, or if it’s only for his own entertainment.”

Giggling, you push the covers from your legs and stand. “Kinkier?” You hum in thought. “What, like… anal?”

You aren’t sure if he chokes on his breath from the other side of the phone, but the gasping would cause you to think so. “Anal? You would let me…”

“Nope,” you interrupt, chuckling. “No anal, but I wouldn’t mind trying something a bit more daring if anything comes to mind. In the meantime…” Your voice fades after making your way to the bathroom, readying your toothbrush with toothpaste.

“Hm?”

“I gotta take care of some things today before my shift tonight. Do you wanna join me?” 

He happily agrees, deciding to tag along while you run errands for the few hours before work at the diner. He walks with you to your school, paying for at least two of your classes for the following semester after deciding to dip into more of your rent money. You assume you can make up the difference in time to give your part to Jenny, knowing if you can’t attend school as a full-time student thanks to your lack of funds, you can at least manage two classes until the videos give you some extra cash. If things continue doing as well as they are, you’re confident it won’t take long before you’re comfortable with paychecks from the diner, tips each night, and splitting the money you make with him.

After some of the weight is lifted from your shoulders for covering two of your upcoming classes, you head to the nearest mall to get out of the heat, making a beeline to the food court to purchase a frozen strawberry lemonade for the two of you. Considering you still have a while before your shift starts, he and you linger around the mall to window shop, pointing out this and that you swear you will buy when you have more money.

“Let’s go in here,” you exclaim the moment you spot your favorite lingerie store, dragging him along as he sips on his frozen drink. “What do you think of this?” you ask him, reaching to pick out the first sheer, black babydoll set you spot.

“On you?” His brow hitches and your cheeks burn, not considering him picturing the lingerie on you, only wanting his opinion on what a man would want to see in one of your videos. “I like it.”

With only a grin, you place the set back onto the rack to continue browsing, fingers skimming across the silk and satin patterns, shifting through a stack of panties with ruffles on one shelf before moving to lacy bras on the next. A store employee comes to you to ask if you need assistance only for you to wave her away, knowing you don’t have money to purchase anything, but browsing is nice to take your mind off of things for a while.

But when you feel him press his back to you, mouth lowering to your ear, you freeze. “I have an idea.” His voice is low, deep, and a bit raspy, sending a chill through your body. “Come with me.” He grips your wrist to guide you to the back of the small store, looking left and right to make sure none of the employees notice the two of you sneaking away to the fitting rooms. 

You call his name with a clenched jaw, attempting to keep your voice low once he has pulled the long, black curtain to the one side, hiding the two of you, “you can’t be in here.”

“Who says?” He chuckles, taking a seat on the bench in the small dressing room before grabbing your frozen drink from your hands. He sets both plastic cups to the side, all before reaching into the pocket of his jeans to pull out his phone and then pressing his back to the mirror behind him. 

“What… what are you doing?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you eye him.

“You said you would be willing to try something if I had an idea.” The devious smirk that forms over his lips leaves your legs shaking. “What if I film you getting off?”

Your eyes pop at the request, heart drumming against your chest and you begin shaking your head from side to side before speaking. “Here?” Leaning closer, your brow furrows and your jaw slacks, noticing him nod simply as if it’s no big deal. “I don’t even have my mask.”

“I won’t record your face.”

“What if someone hears us?”

“Isn’t that what makes it adventurous?” He has a point, and you know well enough you have watched your fair share of videos where couples would try to sneak away in public to get one another off. The thrill is what makes it sexy and you can only imagine the kind of views it could pull in. “What do you say?”

With a deep breath, you give in, nodding once before he presses his thumb to the screen of his phone to begin recording. You trust him not to get a view of your face, but you don’t trust yourself that you can remain quiet, especially if he is the one guiding you to your own release. 

“Come here, baby.” It only takes him a second to fall into the character of loving boyfriend easing you in the moment. You step closer, allowing him to tug the zipper of your skirt until the thin fabric falls to your ankles, leaving the perfect view of the white panties beneath. Your heart pounds against your chest, feeling as if it skips a beat here and there while your stomach twists at the thought of getting caught. But it has a fire burning inside of you, warmth building between your legs from the rush of getting away with something. 

“Part your legs,” is all he says, guiding you in the deep, husky voice that appears once the camera is rolling. You obey his direction, slipping your shoes from your feet before parting your thighs. When his hand rises to press two fingers to your slit, your insides begin to shake from the pressure. He eases the digits back and forth over the base of your panties, caressing your slit while the lens captures everything and he doesn't stop until your body flushes and the arousal pools at your entrance. “Do you wanna come on my fingers, baby?” 

The question earns a fluttering heart and goosebumps spreading over your skin, hearing his dark, deep whisper fill the small dressing room. Fingertips apply more pressure to your entrance to allow your juices to soak through your panties, leaving your legs shaking from anticipation when he pulls away. Leaning closer, you're well aware the camera captures the sight of the darkened patch against the thin cloth, all before he hooks a finger into the waistband to pull the flimsy fabric down to your thighs, uncovering your mound. 

“Yes,” you whisper in return after remembering to answer him. The moment takes hold, overwhelming your body with heat as he slips a finger between your folds with his palm facing upward. “I-I wanna come.” The heavy breath you exhale leaves your chest heaving, eyes closing as he teases your slit, the single digit reaching your entrance to dip his fingertip inside before drawing back to your clit to perform small, steady circles. 

“How does that feel?” Just as he asks, he eases his finger back to your entrance, slipping inside to have you gasping by the last syllable. You reach for him, shaking fingers wrapping around his wrist while he begins pumping the digit in and out, taking his time as the camera captures him teasing you. Your juices coat his flesh, working you up to have heat swelling from between your legs.

“Feels so good,” you whimper in the smallest of voices, trying to be mindful of your volume so no one passing by overhears. 

“Do you want more, baby?” All you can do is bite your lip while nodding in response. Your breaths deepen in an attempt to keep the whimpers from spilling from your lips, so beyond worked up from his touch and the thrill of getting away with it. “Turn around.” 

For a moment, the request surprised you, but you can’t help but to follow the instructions. You turn with your ass toward him and your palms pressed to the wall. When he reaches to palm your ass with a firm grip, your folds part to give the camera the complete view of your glistening slit. 

“Touch yourself for me,” he guides you with ease, deep, raspy voice filling the dressing room and he groans with the last syllable, “show me what a dirty girl you are.” 

A rush of burning heat fills your body, and before you can even think about it, your hand slips between your thighs, ass rising higher to give him a better view of your fingers pressing to your clit. He groans once again at the sight, putting on a show for not only the lens, but for him as well, following his instructions while caressing circles over your clit. Your juices coat your fingers and your teeth sink into your bottom lip harder, the urge to cry out rising. 

“God,” he exhales, “you’re so sexy, baby.” The compliment has the heat surging to your cheeks, burning red and hot and so overwhelmed from his words. Quiet whimpers begin to slip past your bitten lip when he presses two of his fingertips to your entrance, noticing you tightening your walls, needing more, needing him, and he leaves you trembling as he eases his fingers inside of you once again. 

A moan escapes you, a bit louder than before as you feel him curl the digits, drawing out the noises to mix with the messy sounds of your juices coating his skin. You clench yourself around his fingers, increasing the pressure while continuing to caress quick circles against your clit. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asks, words strained against his tongue, breaths becoming heavier at just the sight. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He plays it up for the camera, even though the lens already has the perfect view of your arousal dripping down your slit, creating a mess even over your own fingers as he pleasures you. 

“It feels so good,” you whimper in response, pushing your hips toward him when you become greedy as the bliss fills you to the brim. “Don’t… don’t stop.” The words are breathless as they leave your lips, already so lost in the moment, and you aren’t sure if it’s his skilled fingers or the fact that you’re doing something so forbidden that has you already flirting with the edge of your own release. You quicken your motions over your clit, overwhelmed and aching and hot, ready to come on his fingers just like he asked. 

“You’re squeezing around my fingers so tight,” he teases you, burying the digits deeper, curling them, causing you to whimper louder than before without restraint. “Are you getting close? You’re making such a fucking mess.” Each time he pumps his fingers into you, the sloppy, wet sounds fill the small fitting room to confirm the words he speaks to leave you knees weak beneath you. He pushes harder, earning tightened walls around the digits as curses are whispered beneath your breath.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you warn him in a voice so breathless, he almost misses the words. You lean farther back onto his fingers, working your clit quicker, harder, drawing you near the edge as the tension twists and tightens seconds before snapping. Waves of red, hot pleasure wash over you, leaning your forehead against the wall, gaping, hips rolling, coming undone onto his fingers just like you wanted.

As you do so, he pulls away to part your soaked, glistening lips with a finger on each side of your slit, allowing the camera to capture the way your body trembles and your walls spasming in pure bliss. Drops of your juices trickle down your slit to coat your fingers that have now stalled as you begin to come down from the pleasure. Your breaths are the only thing heard in the dressing room until he pushes his two fingers inside you once more, showing the camera what a mess you made while pumping the digits in and out in the slowest of motions to capture the wet, sloppy sounds. 

The sensitivity of your peak has you finally pushing his hand away, aftershocks of pleasure leaving your knees wobbling beneath you in an attempt to pull your panties up. He stops recording while you dress yourself in the middle of catching your breath, only able to eye him with darkened eyes and cheeks burning red hot from getting away with your recording session. 

***

He calls the next morning, bright and early as ever, to confirm your video was a success. Maybe he does have good ideas. The thought crosses your mind even in your groggy state as you kick the covers off of your body with lazy attempts while listening to him ramble. 

“We have triple the views now!” You’re barely listening to him as his voice bursts with excitement through the speaker, tempted to fall back asleep after an exhausting night at the diner. The tips were better than average, at least, so your current exhausted state isn’t for nothing. “I think we are really starting to make some progress here.”

“Mhm,” you groan, eyes fluttering because your bed feels the most comfortable when you need to crawl out of it. 

“I think that last video sparked interest. I have another idea, if you’re willing. I think it can bring in more viewers.” 

You allow him to ramble for a moment, struggling to wake yourself up until you finally drag yourself out of bed. “Hm, does this idea include anal?”

“Do you… want it to include anal?” 

The question has a sleepy smile spreading over your face. “No, no anal.” You make your way to the bathroom, giving yourself a glance in the mirror above the sink before grabbing your toothbrush.

“We can record once you’re done with your shift today.”

The thought has you groaning all over again, wondering how you are even managing working until nearly midnight, only to come in first thing in the mornings. You know you need all the hours you can, and you wouldn’t complain if it weren’t nothing but senior citizens with lousy tips as your customers first thing in the morning. 

“Sure,” you agree, sticking your toothbrush in your mouth to have your words mumbled, “if I’m not falling asleep on you by tonight.”

He chuckles to have you imagining his wide smile in your mind. “I think this idea will have you wide awake.”

His reassurance has your stomach twisting the entire shift at work. You try to take your mind off of it, and it becomes easier with busy tables, a few rude customers that somehow distract you with frustration, and your manager breathing down your neck, asking you to help check inventory before taking over another waiter's section and not even allowing you a proper break. 

By the time you drag yourself home on tired legs and aching feet, he is waiting at your front door. Even if you are beyond exhausted and your head pounds with the day’s stresses, you’re happy to allow him in to record with him, knowing it will be your last night before Jenny is back in town, so you need all the time alone you can get. 

“When do we even get paid for this?” you ask, watching him pop open the screen to the recorder as he leans against your dresser. 

“I think Jaime says once a month,” he mumbles, clicking a few buttons on the camera to adjust settings. “You’re free to have the first check, if you want it.”

Frowning, you freeze with your hands gripping your white t-shirt with the diner’s name written in cursive over the front. “What? Really?”

“You need it more than I do.” He shrugs, as if it’s no big deal to him. “I can get my car fixed any time, but you can’t be late on rent and I know you took that money to pay for school.” 

“Wow, thanks.” He smiles wide, noticing your genuine appreciation at his understanding. The sentiment has left you with a fluttering heart swelling to twice the size, nearly distracting you from what he is even here to do. “Let me shower, and then we can get started. Are you still not going to tell me your idea?”

His grin widens. “No, it’s a surprise.”

“Should I be worried?” Your brow furrows.

“I think you will enjoy it,” he assures you. 

You’re less confident than him, but you ignore the thought for now to shower. The hot stream beating against your sore muscles manage to ease the tension just a bit, feeling a bit more relaxed, though even more tired, by the time you step onto the fluffy, pink floor mat. Attempting to not drip all over the bathroom floor, you dry yourself off as quick as you can manage before wrapping the towel around your body, tying up your hair once you make it to your bedroom and await on him to tell you what you’re in for. 

“Our last video got a few more comments than before,” he tells you while rising from his position previously relaxed and comfortable over your bed. “I think people enjoy watching you get off while I guide you. So…”

“So?” Your brow hitches, listening to his every word as you drop the towel to the floor, noticing his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps. 

“If you’re okay with it,” he begins, reaching around you to grab two pillows from the bed to place on top of one another, all before guiding you to have a seat, “I wanted to film you, um, touching yourself and getting yourself off.”

The hesitation in the words fills you with warmth, heat flooding your face as you press your back to the pillows. “You think… people will like that?” Your own voice loses confidence, feeling the weight of his gaze until his eyes fall to the floor. 

“I know they will,” he assures you, earning a heart beating twice as fast in your chest. But you only nod, biting your lip as he turns to grab your mask from the dresser. You allow your damp hair to fall around the white strap after adjusting the mask over your eyes, taking a deep breath only a second before he presses record after settling on the bed before you. 

With a bitten lip, you attempt to hide the shy grin once the camera begins rolling. Even though you try to push your nerves aside, the thought of not only performing solo for viewers on an adult site, but him as well, has butterflies fluttering in your stomach as heat fills your entire body. But with embarrassment comes a new kind of thrill, causing you to part your legs as you tease your own nipples, lust filled eyes gazing into the lens. 

“That’s it, baby,” he begins, his deepest, raspiest voice filling the receiver on the camera as he talks to you, “touch yourself for me.”

His choice of words has a surge of adrenaline rushing through you. It confirms your previous nerves of giving him quite the view, fingers pinching and pulling your nipples softly as your lips part and your head rolls to one side.

“Part your thighs for me,” he instructs, obeying him without question to give him and the camera a view of your slit, “let me see your pussy, baby.” 

Your gaze focused on the camera switches to spot his eyes darkening as he speaks. Each sinful word is spoken with a strained tongue, groaning at the view between your parted thighs. Even though your insides shake with nerves, anticipation, and the thrill of him recording you, you gather up the courage to continue your show, hand lowering from your breast to slip between your legs to graze your mound. The touch sends a shiver down your spine the moment he groans at the sight, and you wonder if he is getting lost in the moment as well.

“Wet your fingers,” he guides you, causing the breath to catch in your throat, “and then play with that pretty cunt of yours.” Before you can move, your chest heaves and you gulp, his words affecting you with heat spreading from between your thighs to reach even your toes and fingertips. His words deepen, darkening with every syllable spoken as he guides you to have your core aching with the need to get off.

You follow his instructions, bringing two fingertips to your lips before easing them against your tongue. You play it up, wanting to show you’re just as into the moment, tongue swirling around the digits to coat them in your own saliva, and the camera captures it all. 

“That’s so sexy, baby,” he groans, and the way his hand not holding the camera drops to the bulge beneath his jeans has you biting your lip when you pull your fingers away with a smack of your lips. “Tease yourself for me. Make yourself wet.”

His boldness leaves you shaking, sinful words spilling from his lips to guide you, but you obey the instructions. You aren’t sure if you’re performing more for the camera, or wanting to please him while noticing him palm himself through his jeans, but your fingers fall to your slit. In a slow, steady motion you drag your two fingers down your slit, reaching your entrance where your arousal begins to pool, then you move toward your clit. The sight earns a deep groan from him before he licks his lips, studying the way you tease yourself just like he instructed. 

Your body is so hot, so flushed by the time you begin toying with your clit for him. Your fingers circle the swelling bud in the slowest of movements, biting your lip, batting your lashes, even allowing a few whimpers to build in your throat. For a few moments, you fall into the bliss of touching yourself, teasing your clit, putting on a show for him as the warmth builds from between your thighs. Then you dip your fingers to your entrance, gathering the juices that begin to drip, coating your own flesh before dragging the digits to your clit once again.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks, his deep, raspy voice filling you with red, hot desire. “Does it make you wet when I record you? Do you like being so naughty?”

You wonder where the peak in his confidence came from, but you don’t allow yourself much time to think it over before you’re biting harder on your bottom lip, only whimpering with a simple nod to answer the questions. Your fingers begin working faster, falling into a steady rhythm of pleasuring yourself as the moment takes hold. 

“Show me how wet you’re getting.” The request has the warmth rising to your cheeks. “Stick your fingers in your cunt for me.”

You can’t help but to oblige, worked up, overwhelmed, obeying his every direction as your fingers lower to your slit. You ease them inside of you, only the sounds of your breaths and the digits pumping into your juices filling the room, finding yourself more aroused than you first imagined. The slick, wet sounds earn a heavy exhale from him, barely focusing on recording you while studying the way you pump your fingers in and out of yourself.

“That’s it.” The words release more breathless than the last. “Now, lick your fingers clean for me.”

He has you frozen for only a moment, wanting to make sure you heard him right. He stares at you with lidded eyes, parted lips, and desire in his gaze, waiting on you to follow his guidance. Taking a deep breath, you pull your fingers from your dripping entrance to bring the digits to your lips, staring him straight in the eyes while your tongue swipes over your skin to gather your juices. The view of you licking your fingers earns a deep, rugged groan, nostrils flaring as his breaths deepen, knowing the sight is getting to him.

“You’re such a dirty fucking girl,” he groans, peeling his grip from his rock hard cock to reach for you, brushing his palm against your inner thigh. “Can I touch you, baby?” To anyone else watching, it might seem odd of your boyfriend to ask, but you know he only wishes for you to remain comfortable, waiting for your whimper as you nod.

“P-Please.” Your legs part just a little more, leaning back a bit farther while awaiting his touch you have been so desperate for. In an instant, his thumb brushes over your slit, smearing the juices over your flesh, from your entrance to your clit, igniting the fire inside of you. Your hips roll against his motions, begging for more, whimpering so breathlessly it nearly goes unheard. 

When he focuses his motions on your clit, performing slow, small circles with his thumb, your back arches over the pillows behind you, head rolling back while soft moans fall from your lips. You feel yourself dripping, body growing hotter with waves of heat and desire flooding you to every limb. The ache settles between your thighs, knowing you need release and wanting him to give it to you.

“Please,” you exhale, reaching to wrap shaky fingers around his wrist, “I-I wanna come.”

“I bet you do, baby.” His breathy chuckle sends a chill down your spine. “Do you want to do one more thing for me? I promise it will feel good.” 

All you can do is nod, eager to please him, and so much more eager to get yourself off. He smirks, a fire igniting in his eyes that you notice a moment before he reaches behind you. Carefully, he grabs one of the pillows pressed against your back as you sit forward, only to fold it in half to press the bend between your legs.

“Wh-What do you…” You blink, gulping, aching, body burning hot from feeling the soft, cool pillow case against your swollen folds. 

“Get on your knees,” he directs you with a gentle grip on your waist, allowing you to press your legs into the mattress as you rest against your knees. The pillow remains between your legs, brushing against your folds as you await his next command with your heart pounding harder each second that passes. “Move your hips. Ride the pillow until you come for me.” 

For a moment, you only blink, making sure for the second time you heard him correctly. When you meet his gaze, his eyes darken, flickering with lust as a devious smirk spreads over his lips. Then you inhale, holding your breath, and you don’t release the air from your lungs until your hips begin rolling, grinding your core against the softness of the folded pillow. Your hands press forward to allow shaky fingers to grip the edge of the pillow, steadying yourself as the moans begin to spill from your lips.

“That’s it,” he encourages, pointing the camera down to capture your entire body. His other hand rises to cup your cheek, forcing your eyes to meet the lens while his thumb brushes against your lower lip. “Does it feel good?”

All you can do is nod, managing a quiet whimper before your eyes shut. Never did you think grinding yourself against your own pillow as he records you would bring you so close to the edge, your swollen clit caressing the fabric and your juices soaking the pillow case. But the tension begins to tighten, warmth swelling to every part of your body, from your curled toes, to your clenched fingers, and even your face, jaw finally slacking as he eases his thumb over your tongue and you begin sucking the digit without question. 

 “Come on, come for my baby,” he instructs you, following the deep, raspy words as your hips roll quicker and you press yourself harder against the pillow. “Let me see you make a mess on the pillow.”

The sinful words leave you trembling, whimpering with his thumb against your tongue. Shaking fingers grip the pillow tighter, feeling the tension coil before snapping, following his guidance and coming undone to create a mess between your thighs. Your body leans forward, quivering in the rise of your own pleasure, growing silent before gasping for air as the heatwave of pure bliss washes over you. Your hips slow in the wake of your orgasm, continuing to tremble, breaths heavy until your body eases against the bed.

He continues to record, capturing the messy, wet stain against your pillowcase, all before reaching to part your legs as you lay on your side. Two fingers brush over your dripping center, causing your body to tense and your legs to jerk from the sensitivity. He coats his flesh in your juices, sloppy sounds filling the room to signal just how worked up you had gotten, and just how hard you came, all before he finally makes his way to press the button on the camera to stop recording. 

“Are you alright?” he asks as he makes his way over to your side, eyes scanning down your limp body, then back up to your heaving chest, your eyes shut tight, and he doesn’t miss the slight grin on your lips. “You did great, babe.” His hand presses to your back, and it takes a bit too long for you to catch your breath, nearly missing the newest pet name he calls you, and if you weren’t so spent, the fact that the camera isn’t rolling as he says such things would have your stomach flipping and heart fluttering. 

“That was…” You take a deep breath, eyes opening to see him look down at you. “Wow. My legs are still tingling.” A tired giggle slips from your lips, earning a chuckle from him as he grips you by the arm to pull you closer to him. 

“I knew you would like it,” he boasts, and the fact that he is right keeps you from smacking your lips or rolling your eyes. Your limp body manages to press against his, allowing him to soothe the after effects of your pleasure with small circles of his palm against your back, allowing you to relish in his care for a moment before he pulls away. “C’mon, I’ll help you get cleaned up.” 

***

You’re thrilled to know he was right. From your last video getting twice as many views than the one before, along with an increase in paying customers and loyal viewers, it’s clear he has a knack for guiding you in your videos and you can only enjoy getting to feel the pleasures of each recording session you spend with him. 

The two of you continue your amateur video adventure for weeks, planning times when your roommate isn’t home, and spending nights at his place when she is. You record an assortment of videos to watch the views increase each time Jaime uploads them for the two of you, capturing you giving him a handjob, the two of you fucking on a bathroom countertop, and even you riding him in his living room while keeping quiet so neither of you disturb Jaime’s slumber. 

And it seems the two of you grow closer every time, more comfortable, finding every sliver of awkwardness gone and every doubt or insecurity erased. You kiss without mishaps of bumped noses, and you no longer shake in anticipation while hoping you don’t look silly or just plain crazy. The views and revenue rise just like your confidence, and it all puts your mind at ease while noticing the light at the end of the tunnel becoming brighter.

“How was work today?” he asks you in a whisper as you enter his apartment, slipping your shoes off at the door while you both try to keep your voices low. 

Previous worries of stopping by too late after your shift ended well past your normal time diminished after he assured you he still wished to record no matter the time, only needing to keep quiet so you didn’t disturb a sleeping roommate. Your past attempts at doing such proved to be a success, so it was all the convincing you needed. 

“I’m so… fucking… tired, and pissed,” you groan, plopping onto his bed as he watches and chuckles. “I am surprised I even had enough energy to walk over here.” Though the smell of his lingering body wash and shampoo fills your nose as you lay against the soft sheets, thinking how lovely it would be to just close your eyes and doze off. The dull lights from a nightstand lamp make it cozy enough, and the moment he rests beside you to brush his fingers over your face and push away loose strands of hair is the moment you deeply consider the idea of drifting off to sleep.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” you groan once again. The last thing you want to recall is lousy tips and customer after customer becoming rude, demanding, and wishing to have their orders sent back while blaming you for every last thing. 

“We don’t have to record if you aren’t feeling up to it.” His touches drift from simple brushes to push away your hair to begin caressing your shoulder, coaxing a moan from your lips as the tension disappears from your body. 

“It’s okay, I want to,” you tell him, voice softer than before thanks to him easing the anger and frustrations. “I might have to starfish it, but I want to.” A smile forms on your lips once you hear his soft chuckle in response. 

“Fine,” he simply says, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead, causing you to grin wider before he whispers in your ear. “Then let me take care of you.” 

While giggling, you allow him to help you from the bed to your feet. “Aw, my fake boyfriend is too good to me.” Then you consider the fact as he reaches for the masks you left on his nightstand the last time you recorded together. “Now that I think about it, you’re better than most of my previous real boyfriends.”

He grins while helping you adjust your mask over your face before tending to his own. “Only the best for my fake girlfriend.” Before you can come back with a witty reply, he turns to grab the tripod from the other side of the room, setting it up along with the camera at the end of the bed while you begin undressing yourself. You toss your too-big t-shirt to the floor before your shorts follow, waiting in your bra and panties on him to finish setting up and undressing. When he is down to his boxer briefs, he presses the button on the camera to begin recording, then makes his way toward you. 

“Are you ready, baby?” His chest presses to your back, never hesitating to wrap arms around your body, but his affection, from his touches to his kisses to his words, have become so familiar at this point, you find yourself longing for him when you’re not together. You nod in response, resting your head against his shoulder while his hands begin to roam your body. 

His lips fall to your exposed neck just as his hands cup your breasts. The smallest of whimpers slip from your mouth, eyes closing and even a grin forming over your lips from the way he takes care of you. It's as if the camera isn't even rolling, paying no more attention to the fact that the two of you are being recorded and only focusing on how he eases the tension from your body. The moment a single hand dips into your panties is when your mind completely drifts from the frustration and your body forgets to be exhausted. His fingers part your folds as his mouth brushes along the curve of your neck from behind. He is patient like he always is, taking his time to work you up until your breaths deepen and you hold back a whimper of his name. 

When he pulls away from your breast, you reach behind to unclasp your bra for him, allowing it to slip to the floor while giving him better access to your erect nipples. As he teases between your thighs with steady, yet diligent fingers, he reaches again to cup your bare breast. Your chest pushes into his hold, asking for more, and when his fingertips brush over your nipple before he tugs and pinches in a careful motion, a soft moan spills from your lips. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” he whispers into your ear, not bothering to wait on your reply before he swipes his tongue over your skin, then kisses the spot with soft lips. “Are you getting wet for me?” 

From his fingers circling your clit to his hand palming your breast, all you can manage is a whimper before you bite down on your bottom lip. The arousal drips from your entrance to soil your panties, body flushing with heat as the moment takes hold of you. He accepts your noises of pleasure as confirmation he is keeping his promise of taking care of you, daring to venture farther as his fingers ease down your slit, causing your legs to spread wider. You're already squeezing your walls in anticipation as your thumbs hook into the straps of your panties, easing the flimsy fabric down your thighs to give him access. 

The pads of his fingertips circle your entrance to coat his flesh in your forming arousal, earning a grip of your shaking hand around his wrist. Your jaw slacks and your brow wrinkles beneath the mask, heat rising to spread through your body due to his mouth on your neck, a palm over your chest, and his fingers pushing into you. The moment he pushes the digits in, your thighs press against his hand while a gasp slips from your lips. The overwhelming pleasure sends a surge of warmth to every inch of your body, starting between your thighs where he teases you by easing the fingers in and out, to reach your toes and fingertips. 

“That feels so good,” you whimper, breathless with your eyes fluttering from the blissful pressure of him pushing his fingers inside of you. “I-I need you.” The desperation in your strained tone gives him the assurance he needs to go further. When he pulls his wet fingers from your walls, he brushes over your slit until he reaches your clit, circling a few times in a slow, steady motion to leave you gasping, then he pulls away from your body. 

“Dammit,” he curses beneath his breath after he opens the drawer to his nightstand. You give him a curious, wide-eyed look over your shoulder when he turns to face you, not bothering to worry over the camera still recording thanks to Jaime being able to edit out any hang ups or issues. “I don't have any condoms here.” 

Then the last time you were with him comes to kind, remembering telling him you would be in charge of bringing the condoms thanks to having a half-used pack at your place. You bite your lip, watching him rub the back of his neck with one hand while he grips his erection straining against his boxers with the other. Gulping, you think about what it would be like to be with him without condoms, feeling flesh against flesh and allowing him to fill you up fully for the first time. Heat washes over your face to fill your cheeks with embarrassment, finding a racing heart agreeing with the idea.

“We… don't need them,” you whisper, eyes falling to the floor. 

He hesitates, before beginning to mumble, “Are-Are you sure?” 

You thought the two of you had already gotten over the awkwardness, but experiencing something new with him has him stuttering while you become hot with embarrassment. Though, you trust him, and he has taken care of you while making you more comfortable than you ever imagined yourself with someone else, so the thought of trying something new also has your body aching, needing him and needing to feel him fill you up. 

“I’m sure,” you say while turning to face him, gripping him by the hips to pull him closer, then gripping his boxer briefs to push the fabric down his legs. His hard, thick arousal springs free, causing you to lick your lips before tearing your gaze away to look into his eyes. “I want to. I… want you to come in me.” 

He continues to stare for a moment, looking into your eyes to see the sincerity matching your words. Then he leans closer, connecting his lips with your own, holding you close with an arm wrapping around your back, and when you whimper against his skin from the comforting way he takes care of you, he deepens the kiss with a groan filling in his chest. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip as your hands press to his chest, feeling his flushed, hot body against your own to have the room spinning around you. 

When you pull away from him, you turn to press knees and palms against the coolness of the sheets, curving your back a moment later to raise your ass for him. He can only groan at the sight of you bent over and spread open for him, and a chill rushes down your spine from being so exposed, and vulnerable, yet so comfortable in your own skin when you’re with him. He reaches for you a moment later, pressing a palm against your ass to spread your folds farther, gaining better access and a better view of your glistening slit. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers low enough you nearly miss the words, but they still affect you in the form of goosebumps and a fluttering heart. The warmth never leaves your body from the thrill of being with him as you feel the tip of his length press to your folds. Your eyes close, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he teases your slit with a groan, coating his flesh in your juices a few moments before he begins to ease inside of you.

The gasp that leaves your lips as he fills you up releases much louder than you anticipated while it drowns out the strained curses he spills, but you can’t be bothered with controlling your volume when you become dizzy from the pressure and the bliss of him inside of you. He enters you deeper than any other time thanks to the position, yet he allows you a moment to adjust to the sensation as his palms caress your hips and he repeats over and over how good it feels when you’re wrapped tight around him. 

When you lean into him, fingers digging into the wrinkled sheets, he begins easing out of you, only to thrust inside of you with rising desperation. His grip on your hips tightens, repeating the motions to hear each and every whimper, every moan, and every cry that begins to pour from your lips. The sounds of skin against skin and your slick, messy wetness he pumps into fill the room, mixing with your noises of pleasure and his own groans until neither of you bother with keeping the sounds down.

“Faster,” you beg him in a breathless whimper, all before your teeth sink into your flesh, brow wrinkling, moans filling in your chest. “Please,” you gasp, and it only takes him a second to comply. The thrusts of his hips creates a loud smack, keeping a firm hold on your body to keep you in place and allow his cock to drive deeper inside of you. 

The moment takes hold in a flood of heat rushing through your body, the bliss swelling to every inch as you tremble in his grasp. Your clit throbs for attention from feeling so full of his cock, only needing an extra push to reach your end, and as you become seconds away from slipping your hand between your thighs, he eases an arm around your body to scoop you closer, pulling your shoulders almost flush to his chest, back curved, and your ass pressed so tight against him. 

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groans in your ear, having the proximately to tell you the dirty, nasty things on his mind right in your ear. His lips brush over your neck as his hips twitch against your ass, and your head falls back to give him access. “I love fucking you like this.” The deep, raspy tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, only being able to reply in whimpers the moment his other hand eases between your thighs. His fingers find your clit, never hesitating to press quick circles against the swollen, aching bud to have you crying out, begging him not to stop.

“I-I’m getting close,” you warn him, voice straining and struggling to speak from him leaving you so breathless, so worked up, and so close to the edge your mind grows hazy. “Please… don’t stop-” You gulp with a brief pause. “-it feels so good.” 

His fingers quicken in pace and his cock hits deep within your walls with his hips pressed against you. His grip tightens around your body, fingers digging into your ribs and your hands fall to his arms to leave marks from your nails against his flesh. You can’t help but to cry out, curses and whimpers, overwhelmed from the pleasure, squeezing yourself so tight around him, feeling the tension tighten in your body as the warmth bubbles to take its place.

“God, I love feeling you like this,” he continues to whisper in his desperate, gruff voice, earning goosebumps on your quivering body. 

“Don’t stop,” you beg him, voice cracking between the words. “I’m so close.”

“I love being with you like this,” he continues to admit in your ear, fingers never slowing as he groans between the words. “I love feeling you so close.”

“Fuck,” you cry out, body weakening with his every word, forgetting to keep his name off the camera as the moment consumes the both of you, flooded with bliss, and emotions, and neither of you worry over being recorded or playing pretend. “I-I’m c-coming,” you cry out one last time, body tensing as the pleasure swells and the heat of pure bliss takes hold, nearly missing his final confession in your ear just before toppling over the edge.

“I love this so much,” he groans between you gasping as the first wave of pleasure surges through you, “and I love you.”

Your body falls against the bed, hips rolling against him, becoming greedy in the moment as your fists clutch the sheets beneath you and you quiver in pure bliss. Your head spins from the warmth filling every inch of you and from the words whispered in your ear, and he grips your hips and continues his thrusting inside of you, fucking you through the pleasure until you’re crying out his name all over again. And he never slows, huffing and groaning and holding you tighter, until he reaches his own peak, releasing inside of you, filling you up, and coming down from the high of being with you before he collapses next to you.

You feel the aftershocks of his pleasure. Your legs feel too weak to move, knowing you shouldn’t even attempt to make your way to the bathroom to clean yourself. He catches his breath next to you, body glistening with sweat and when you lift your head to look at him, you notice his closed eyes and parted lips, finding your heart fluttering as the words he spoke race through your mind again and again. Gulping, you stare for a few seconds too long as your heart swells, trying to make sense of the things he said. 

It’s just for the camera, you remind yourself as you pull your eyes away to remember you’re still being recorded. 

The heat of the moment causes the both of you to do and say things you normally wouldn’t, you’re well aware, but the desperation in his tone, along the way he held you so tight as he whispered in your ear, has you tempted to admit to yourself, deep down inside, you wish his words were sincere.

The moment he catches his breath, he makes his way to the camera to end the recording. You bite your lip while watching him slip his underwear on, afraid to question him on the intention of his words in fear of making something strictly for the camera seem like a bigger deal than it is. It’s only for the camera. You tell yourself again and again, and maybe you’re scared of bringing it to his attention because you aren’t sure you’re ready for the answer if it was something more.

Regardless of the words or his meaning behind them, you ignore the way your chest feels significantly heavier as you stand from the bed, thighs clasped together to keep the mess he made from shifting, and grinning when he reaches for his t-shirt to tug over your head.

“C’mon,” he says with a nod of his head, taking you by the hand, “let’s shower.” 

The two of you tiptoe to the bathroom without a word, keeping the noises to a minimum so Jaime isn’t disturbed. He turns on the water and you undress, and when the temperature is just right, he helps you step into the tub. He washes your hair and helps you clean up, and you allow him to spoil you with care for the moment as the exhaustion from work and his pleasure kicks back in. By the time you’re drying off, you admit to having a hard time keeping your eyes open, and with a chuckle, he realizes as much.

“You can sleep here,” he offers, and the heaviness worsens on your chest. The words he spoke, his care, his gentleness, and even paying attention to your mood and knowing you need rest, all weigh down on you to earn a confused heart beating twice as fast. And you’re not sure why he affects you so much without warning. Maybe it’s your situation of recording with him, or maybe it’s things you have always felt, but never noticed until he spoke those words. Or maybe it’s a mix of everything that has you giving in, too tired to question him, his words, or your own hopes of wanting it to be true, only falling asleep next to him as his arms find their way around you and  you snuggle a bit closer to his chest for warmth.

***

When you get your first payment deposited into your account only a few days later, you quickly call him up to give him the good news. It gives you an excuse to call him after spending the night together and hearing his confession you’re still not sure his meaning behind. Being busy from work and him planning for Jaime’s birthday party has left neither of you time to record, and part of you is thankful you don’t have to feel the tension between the two of you from seeing his face and remembering the way he spoke those three words that have had you on edge ever since. Part of you misses his touch, his smile, and the way he holds you, and the biggest part of all still wants to admit how much you wish it all were real.

He doesn’t hesitate to share your excitement as you tell him your plans of putting a portion toward rent you owe Jenny, and the rest will be stored for your classes. His voice sounds tired, but excited, and it doesn’t take long for it to feel like it used to. Even if those taunting words pop in every now and then, you try your best to push the feelings aside thanks to just wanting to be near him again.

“We should celebrate!” you suggest. “Jenny will be out for the night, so bring a bottle of your cheapest, shittiest wine and come over.” He chuckles at the idea, knowing he will at least get a discount on the wine from the store he works at.

“Fine,” he agrees, and the sound of his voice has every ounce of tension in your body disappearing as you lay against your bed in your pajamas, “it’s a date.” Once again, you lack the courage to question his choice of words, quickly hanging up after telling him a rushed goodbye. 

He shows up at your place after his shift at the grocery store a few hours later, giving you enough time to shower, dress, and put a bit more effort in applying makeup, spritzing your favorite perfume and wondering why you felt the urge to impress him. You open the door after a few knocks, noticing him with a bottle in his hand and his work’s red apron still tied around his neck. 

With a grin, you shake your head at him forgetting to leave the apron at the store while trying to ignore the way your face fills with warmth due to him staring. 

“I… brought the wine.” His smile widens as he lifts the cheap bottle of white wine in his hands. You step to the side to allow him to enter and close the door behind him before making your way to the kitchen. He is settled comfortably on the couch after taking off his apron by the time you scrounge through your cabinets for glasses neither Jennyor you have used since New Year's, as well as a corkscrew, returning to him to have a seat by his side. 

“Fill ‘er up!” you tease, watching him struggle to pop the cork before tipping the bottle to fill both of your glasses. Then he pops the cork back in to set the wine on the coffee table, grabbing his glass and raising it to cheers. Giggling, you clink your glass to his, feeling far too fancy as you take a sip of the wine as the cheap, bland taste hits your tongue. “Wow, you spared no expense.” 

He frowns, pretending to be offended. “You said buy the cheapest wine!” 

“And the shittiest,” you giggle. “You really nailed it.” 

He takes another sip of his drink before sighing, setting his glass against the coffee table. “It's fitting for what we are celebrating,” he jokes, earning a shove against his shoulder. 

Though, he isn't wrong. The entire situation has seemed a bit absurd since the moment you propositioned him. When you stop to think about it, even in the moment it seems unbelievable. “I really can't believe we are getting paid for this,” you admit, before taking a much larger sip of your wine, wanting to feel the carefree effects before the reality of it all truly sets in. “Isn't it odd to think about, about two months ago, you were hungry and I was pissed about my job. Now we get money to have orgasms… as promised.”

He chuckles with a shake of his head. “I have to admit, I am surprised we even gained interest in the first place.” 

“Please,” you huff, “I assumed no one would want to watch us. I had my fears of failing miserably from the beginning. Or I would end up looking stupid and become some internet joke that's passed around on those troll websites.”

“Well, clearly you have never read the comments under our videos.” He snickers while pulling his phone from his pocket, earning a furrowed brow and slacked jaw from you.

“Read comments?” you groan. “I don't think I could ever even watch the videos.” While thumbing through his phone, he sports a wide grin, one that has your heart racing because you know what's coming next.

”So, you're never curious? Of how the videos turn out?” His eyes flick up to meet your gaze, a spark igniting within that sends a rush of heat through you. 

“Well… sometimes, but I couldn't bear to see myself.” Your face twists in disgust, earning laughter in return. “Ugh, even hearing myself on camera moaning or even just talking. I probably sound ridiculous.”

“You could never sound ridiculous,” he is quick to correct you, the smile fading from his lips and you note the sincerity in his tone. “Look, even this comment says how sexy you sound.” He turns the phone your way, giving you a glimpse of the thumbnail on the screen and beneath, in white text, a comment babbling about how “hot” the two of you are together. 

“Ew! No!” Turning away, you shield your eyes with one hand, but you peek between your fingers to spot his smirk. The other hand grips the wine glass tighter, all before raising it to your lip to take a swig. If the heat from embarrassment wasn't getting to you, the alcohol surely begins to. “I'll be traumatized if I look at it!” 

Though you're only half joking, he gets the hint before turning his phone away from you. “Fine,” he admits defeat of you not wanting to look for yourself. “Then I will read some comments to you.”

“No!” you protest without hesitation, but can't help but to giggle. “No, that's just as bad.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Quiet laughter slips from his lips as he scrolls through the comments, and all you can do is brace yourself with finishing off your last gulp in your glass. “This one mentions you having a nice ass. And this one compliments you on the way you ride my-”

“Stop!” you squeak, reaching to snatch the phone from his hands while attempting not to drop your glass. “I can't hear anymore of those ridiculous comments!” You giggle through each word while setting your glass against the coffee table before it’s dropped to the floor, and he bursts with laughter right along with you.

“I have to say I agree with them.”

“Oh, God, shut up!” You turn away from him before he can notice the way your face twists in embarrassment, heat filling your cheeks while trying to hold back your giggles.

“Especially the one about your lips and how sexy they are.”

Your gaze shifts back to him in a matter of seconds. There's no sign of a smile on his face, no hint of joking any longer. Your heart flutters and your chest swells hearing him say the words, gulping before gathering the courage to reply.

“You… think so?” Blinking, you watch his lips curl in a soft grin, a bit more shy than before as his eyes fall to his lip. 

“You have the softest lips I've ever kissed,” he admits, and you feel as if your heart will jump right out of your chest. “It's not like I haven't thought about kissing them before.”

“Excuse me… what?” Your jaw slacks, finding it hard to breathe while making sure you heard him correctly. “You… you have?” 

The moment his hand rises to cup your cheek, feeling the warmth against your skin as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, blood rushes to your head. From his touch, and the way he stares at you with soft eyes, your heart flutters in your chest, all before beating twice as fast and swelling to what feels like double the size. All he can do is nod, and smirk, and chuckle a breathy release in a fit of shy nerves before he leans toward you. As if the world stops, the only thing you focus on is the way his eyes close seconds before your own follow suit, and a moment later he presses his lips to your skin, confirming his words with the softest, sweetest kiss that has you buzzing with nerves and a pure rush of affection for him. 

When he fails to pull away, only deepening the kiss as he leans closer, you grip him with a fistful of his t-shirt. A whimper against his skin and your breath ghosting over his cheek has him groaning, savoring the feel of your lips he swears are so soft, so sweet, and so delicate against his skin. A moment later his body presses to your own when you tug his t-shirt to bring him in. The kiss is electric, igniting the desire in you as a hand becomes lost with fingers entangling in his hair and his touches fall to your thighs.

Before either of you can come to your senses, he’s between your legs and your back is flat against the couch. The effects of the kiss press hard between your thighs, feeling his arousal forming as his hips roll against your body, earning another whimper until his lips are lowering down your jaw. 

He groans from the taste of you, the feel of your skin, and the noises you release. The desperate way you grab him, with nails leaving marks and your hips rising to meet his motions, have him lost in the moment, groaning once his mouth finds your neck. You lose yourself to him, in your own little world thanks to his words, his touches, his lips and his hands, forgetting that this is your best friend that is kissing you, teasing you, making you whimper. You forget it all, and you forget it was never supposed to go this far - it was only business, a simple way to get money. 

The realization dawns on you, and as much as you hate yourself for it, you finally open your eyes as you begin to speak. “W-wait… the camera.” The words are strained as they fill his ears, and no matter how much you want it to be real, the fear of finding out the truth has you cowering away from finding out. “We-we don't have the camera.”

Finally, he hears you, pulling away a moment later with swollen, red lips and fire in his eyes. He gulps, and huffs, and he remains a bit breathless as he stares down at you.

“The camera,” he sighs, closing his eyes for a moment, then crawling away to fall back against the couch, “right.” 

“We, uh,” you begin mumbling, adjusting your shirt and taking fingers through your hair as you sit straight up, “we left it at your place last time.”

“Yeah,” he says beneath his breath, running fingers through his hair and making it painfully obvious he is avoiding even glancing your way, “yeah, we did.”

“We could…” Rolling your eyes up, you hum in thought. “Record tomorrow? Jenny will be here, so if your place-”

“Nah, not gonna work,” he turns down your idea, shaking his head. “Jaime has friends staying over that are in town for his birthday. My place is no good for a week.”

All you can do is bite your lip while noticing his dry tone. Maybe it's disappointment or maybe the reality of what almost happened is weighing down on him just as hard. You assume the latter when he stands from the couch, grabbing his apron he tossed aside earlier before he begins mumbling.

“I should get going, got an early shift tomorrow.” 

You only nod, rising to your feet while attempting to ignore the way the heaviness from uncertainty turns into regret. And maybe a bit of guilt, as well as longing. If you are honest with yourself, you would admit to not wanting to stop him. But you also have to admit the reasons why, and it's not something you're ready to come to terms with yourself. 

So you smile, and you say goodnight, and you watch him bounce down the steps of your front porch before finally releasing the breath you had been holding just to keep yourself from asking him to stay.

***

He can tell from Jaime’s furrowed brow and pursed lips something isn’t quite right. He assumes his younger roommate will be thrilled for his birthday party in the evening, and he worked a little too hard setting up food, drinks, and even going out of his way to place a banner and some balloons. But when he enters Jaime’s room to find him settled at his desk with his eyes trained on the screen of his laptop, he gulps before exhaling.

“Everything alright?” he asks, and normally his voice wouldn’t threaten to tremble if he was staring so hard at his computer, assuming without a doubt it has to be something related to the videos he and you record. Was there an issue with the last video? Did it not do as well? Did Jaime even manage to upload it? A million questions race through his mind as Jaime remains silent. “We only have a few hours before your other friends arrive. They  should be back soon with the cups we forgot to pick up.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be done by then.” Jaime clicks a few buttons on the mouse before finally tearing his gaze away, meeting his eyes as a slight smirk forms on his lips.

“Done?” He clears his throat, eyes falling to the floor while his arms cross over his chest. “Is it… the last video we recorded?”

Jaime nods, humming an “mhm” and his heart beats twice as fast due to his roommate. Once again his mind begins racing with the possibilities of what could have gone wrong, but Jaime continues before he has a chance to become too carried away.

”I noticed something,” is all Jaime says, and he swears his heart will leap out of his chest. He rubs the back of his neck, beginning to stammer while thinking of excuses, but Jaime cuts him off. “Actually, I’ve noticed a few things different, from your first video to your last.” 

“Okay?” He eyes him, wondering why he is beating around the bush and won’t just come out with it. “What’s the problem? Is it not worth uploading?” 

“Nothing like that,” Jaime tells his roommate, leaning back in his chair with his fingers intertwined over his stomach. “It’s just… the two of you. You have become… closer?” It’s clear Jaime chooses his words carefully, but it does nothing for your best friend’s racing heart and the heat that fills his body. 

“I guess… yeah. It’s become easier to record. It was awkward as hell as first.” A hesitant chuckle slips from his lips, hand rising to rub the back of his neck, but Jaime’s eyes narrow.

“Easier to record?” His roommate’s smirk widens, and he tries to ignore the lump in his throat. “Is that your excuse?”

“What?” He frowns, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“God,” Jaime groans with a roll of his eyes, “you told her you loved her. Love! Don’t think I didn’t hear it because I did.” 

“And?” His tone deepens, darkens, falling into defense mode with his brows wrinkled and his eyes narrowed. “It was just for the camera. This whole thing has been for the camera, pretending we’re a couple, pretending we’re in love.”

“Pretending?” Jaime snorts. “Okay, sure, whatever.” His roommate turns away from him, clicking the buttons on his keyboard to close out of the video he had been editing. Meanwhile the steam begins to pour from his ears thanks to his roommate questioning him.

“You don’t believe me?” And he doesn’t drop the subject, feeling as if he has something to prove as he steps closer, and Jaime rises to his feet. “Why would I lie?”

“I’m not saying you’re lying. dude.” Jaime’s voice lowers, softening with the words before he sighs. “But there’s no faking what I saw. It’s clear how much you care about her, you have shown it more as the videos progressed and, fuck, I just wanted to give you shit you about it because I thought it was clear. I didn’t know you would get so pissed off. My bad.” 

With that, Jaime raises his hands in defeat before pushing past. And all he can do is allow the words to sink in, wondering how it could be so obvious when he has done such a good job of denying the facts to himself the entire time.

***

With one simple text, you realize he isn’t in the best mood. Which is unfortunate for you since it’s the night of Jaime’s birthday party, where you know no one but him and his roommate, and you already promised to attend. When he begins to reply with the shortest of answers to your questions asking what time you should leave, if he needs you to bring anything, and even sending him pictures of possible outfits, you’re aware something is bothering him. Thanks to the two of you being friends for so long, it’s easy to notice when he isn’t himself, and though you want to find out what’s bugging him and possibly fix whatever that may be, you already know it’s going to be difficult with so many people around all night.

Maybe if I get him alone I can see what’s bothering him, you think to yourself, taking a final glance in the mirror at your hair, your makeup, and the black halter dress you adorn to make sure everything is in its place to head to his apartment. Maybe he will like the dress. You giggle to yourself at the thought, finding butterflies fluttering in your stomach picturing his expression when he sees you. You hope your presence will put him in a better mood. The last thing you want is for your best friend to be down in the dumps during a party, so as you head out of the door after slipping on your heels, you make it your mission to figure out what is bothering him, if only to cheer him up and get him in the mood to party.

You send him a final text to tell him you’re on your way, debating on whether to send him another picture of the dress you picked out, but you decide to let it be a surprise, sticking your phone back in your clutch as you make your way down the streets. In your mind, you can already picture seeing his face light up at the sight of you. At least, your mind hopes that is the reaction you receive, and you can’t deny the way your heart flutters from getting to see him again. 

Even if the two of you left things in an awkward state from the last time he was at your place, finding yourselves kissing, touching, and holding one another without even thinking of missing the camera, the situation has you admitting how much you need to see him, how much you miss him, and how much you desire to feel his touch once again. Though it’s hard to understand exactly how you feel, and it’s hard to make sense of the signs he gives, you can no longer deny there being something between the two of you. It’s frightening, yet thrilling, and it sends a rush of butterflies and jittering nerves through your body whenever you think of it.

The bass from the music playing in his apartment can be heard as soon as you step into the hall. A grin forms on your lips, hoping the neighbors won’t call to report the disturbance as you knock twice on the door. A few seconds pass before the music pours into the hall, coming face to face with a grinning Jaime, red eyes half-lidded and you wonder how much he has already had to drink even before the party started.

“Hey!” he nearly yells, gripping you by the shoulder to pull you inside before the door slams behind you. “Come in, come in! Do you want a drink? Food? A round of beer pong?”

Your face scrunches at the thought of downing beer everyone’s fingers have dipped into, so you shake your head in an instant while giggling at his slurred words. He must be terrible at the game, you think, but you keep your comments to yourself. “I’m fine, thanks,” you tell him with a polite smile just as his friends begin calling him back to the table lined with red cups of beer set up in the cramped living room. “Hey, where’s…?” You scan the room as the words fade, spotting too many unfamiliar faces, mostly boys with a few girls between them, but no signs of your best friend. 

“Uh,” Jaime begins, eyes squinting as he scratches his head, “I think he might be on the balcony.” Jaime offers one last, wide grin before making his way back to his friends, joining in with the game, and the cheering, yelling, and trash talk. 

You can’t help but to grin at the sight before pushing between the small crowd of college kids. Once you push back the curtains to slide the glass door to the balcony open, the cool night’s air hits your skin, giving you a break from the heat of the apartment with the crowded, tipsy bodies. But the break lasts only a moment before you spot your best friend leaning against the wall that separates the balconies from next door, eyes focused on the girl in front of him pressed against the railing. 

You frown without realization, and once both sets of eyes turn to gaze at you, you force a smile even though the sight sends a bitter chill of jealousy down your spine. He takes one look at you, from your head, to your toes, and then back again, licking his lips before offering a single nod as if you were any of the other friends inside. 

“Hey, you made it,” is all he says, feeling the weight of both of their stares on you. The chilly air does nothing to stop the warmth from spreading to your face, insides shaking and you shouldn’t have such a reaction to seeing him with someone else, and you aren’t sure why you even care, but the situation has you mumbling, and stuttering, and debating whether to turn around and pretend as if you never saw him. 

“Yeah, I… did you not get my message?” You glance between the two of them, trying not to notice her sparkling, wide eyes beneath dark shadow and thick liner, her dimple that shows when her lips turn in a nervous grin, her smooth skin, or the dress she wears that offers the right amount of cleavage. She’s cute, you think, totally his type. Your eyes turn to him before the weight of jealousy, so heavy and angry bubbling in your chest, weighs down too hard on you in the moment.

“Oh, I haven’t paid much attention to my phone,” is his excuse, and you couldn’t be more relieved you decided not to send him that picture of your dress. With hesitation, you wait to see if he is going to introduce you to his new friend, but after a few moments, you realize he doesn’t see the point in bothering. His hand rises to the back of his neck, and the girl folds her arms over her chest as she looks between the two of you. “Well, there’s drinks and food inside if you want it. Jaime can help if you ask.” 

Clearly you’re not wanted. The realization settles in the pit of your stomach with a heavy weight, allowing you to see you’re being dismissed as if you were a child. All of your excitement disappears in a flash, once so eager to find him, cheer him up with whatever was bothering him, and even guess his reaction to seeing the dress you picked out, hoping he would like it. Now you understand the reason he had been so short. It’s evident in the way he brushes you off he feels none of the things you have felt, and neither of you are on the same page.

Without a word, you nod, purse your lips, and head inside, leaving the two on the balcony to do whatever they had been doing before you barged in. The music, the laughter, and the cheers flood your ears as you push through the crowd, but it sounds dull in comparison to the thoughts racing through your mind. How could you be so oblivious? How could you think he actually felt something for you?

You should have left it at believing it was all for the camera, cursing yourself beneath your breath at the thought as you step into the kitchen to get away from any peering eyes or anyone watching to see you biting down on your lip while searching the fridge for a bottle of water. You chug half the bottle in a matter of seconds in hopes of cooling off, feeling hot, worked up, and finding anger filling your chest in waves of heat coursing through you, so embarrassed in yourself for thinking there was something between the two of you.

“Hey, you okay?” A voice fills the kitchen, taking you by surprise and nearly causing you to jump out of your skin. You turn to see Jaime’s grinning face as he makes his way to the trays of appetizers spread out over the small space on the kitchen counters, popping something in his mouth before you can even realize what he is eating. “Thirsty? Want me to mix you a drink?”

Raising your hand in protest, you shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.” 

His bottom lip protrudes as he steps closer. “Aw, c’mon, you’re no fun,” he teases, and in the moment it at least distracts you from hating yourself so much. “How about a round of beer pong?”

“Please,” you snicker, “I would be terrible at that.”

“Then come watch me play.” He’s already grabbing your wrist and pulling you along before finishing his plea. “You can cheer me on. It will be fun.”

“Says who?” you ask, giggling and allowing him to pull you into the living room where a few extra bodies have joined the party.  “Plus, you’re already too drunk to even be any good.” Your words drown out by the end of the sentence as Jaime makes room for you on the sofa next to him, awaiting his turn. 

You’re thankful for the distraction, at least. Jaime cheers for one of his friends, assuming they are teammates, and even though you wish him and your best friend weren’t the only ones you knew at the party, after a while you’re grinning at the sight of the enthusiastic players. Jaime takes his turn, and fails miserably by missing all the cups, to which his teammate feigns anger in the moment for the sake of putting on a show. Jaime can only giggle, and he ends up having to down another cup once the opposing team takes their turn.

Then he settles next to you once again, eyes glossy and cheeks flushed as he nudges your arm and grins. “Are you sure you don’t want to play?” he asks once again, earning a shake of your head and a giggle thanks to his drunken persistence. Maybe he feels sorry that it’s obvious you’re an outcast in this situation, or maybe he is being nicer than normal thanks to getting to watch the videos you record, but it’s something, and you find yourself not minding either way. At least he makes you feel welcome, you think, and it’s more than you can say for your best friend in the moment.

Then your eyes scan the room, wondering where he ended up. Not that you should care. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, but you’re only lying when you try to convince yourself it’s no big deal as you spot him in the corner of the room, his arm linked around the girl’s waist and her hands pressed to his chest. He smiles down at her as the two talk. She giggles at him in return, causing your chest to feel as if it will cave in on itself at the sight.

Jaime begins mumbling something in your ear, but the words drown out with the music and the conversations as you stare with wide eyes at the couple in the corner. You bite your lip to keep your mouth from falling open, stomach hardening as a lump grows in your throat at watching the two together, and though you have no right to react in such a way, the jealousy creeps up your spine the longer you stare, turning your hatred for yourself into red, hot anger for your best friend.

The moment he catches your gaze is when you finally turn away to mutter an excuse to leave. You rise to your feet, feeling your legs become weaker than you want in the moment before you rush down the hall and into the bathroom to get away from the party. With a click of the door, the music turns into nothing but bass vibrating the walls and the voices lowering to muffles. 

You finally take a deep breath, back pressed to the door as your eyes flutter closed, grasping the clutch in your hands with a tight, yet shaking grip. As the air spills from your lungs in an unsteady exhale, you step toward the sink, pressing your palms against the counter with your head lowered and your bottom lip trembling.

You won’t cry over him, you tell yourself. You scream it again and again in your mind. There’s no reason to. You try to sound convincing even in your thoughts, but the heaviness in your chest contradicts what you tell yourself. You’re not together. It’s only business. It’s only sex.

So why do you feel as if your heart is shattering? Why does seeing him with someone else have your stomach twisting and your knees weak? And why do you feel ashamed and stupid, embarrassed for actually convincing yourself it was okay to feel this way about your best friend?

You gulp and close your eyes before the tears can begin to build. Then you take a few breaths, inhaling deeply, slowly exhaling, steadying your trembling bottom lip, slowing your heartbeat, and keeping your twisting stomach from turning into nausea even though the situation weighs down on your chest and you can’t get the image of him with someone else out of your head. 

You aren’t sure how long you are in that bathroom before there’s a light knock on the door. The thought of texting Jenny to pick you up from the party crossed your mind just as the sound of someone’s knuckles fill the bathroom to pull you from your thoughts, wishing only to sneak out unnoticed. If you’re going to cry, you might as well do it in the comfort of your own bed sheets and pajamas. 

With a glance in the mirror, you make sure you don’t look as if you were about to have an emotional breakdown before reaching for the door. When you answer the knocks, you come face to face with him seconds before his eyes fall to floor. The heat washes over you again, except now it’s not in anger. Now it’s a mix of desire, watching him rub the back of his neck with one hand before noticing his bitten lip. Now it’s the need you have felt for him, mixed with the overwhelming emotions of trying to understand your own feelings, his feelings, and whatever is going on between the two of you.

“S-Sorry,” you sutter, head falling slack, “I was just leaving.” 

When you try to push past him, his hands grip your waist, guiding you back into the bathroom before he shuts the door behind the two of you. You gasp in surprise, body pressed against the sink and his palms rest against the counter behind you. He comes dangerously close, lips an inch from your own and you even smell the hint of alcohol on him. Though he’s not drunk, noticing his eyes trained on you, but they're not red, or glossy, and his face remains unflushed and you wonder how being so close doesn’t affect him in the same way it does you. 

You gulp once again, body so hot and it feels as if the tiny bathroom shrinks around the two of you. The weight of his gaze has your knees threatening to buckle, wishing you didn’t yearn for him so badly, wondering how you got to this point. Why does your body crave his affection? Why do you miss his tender kisses and soft, caring words so much? Why does your heart ache so painfully for him? 

“You look beautiful, baby,” he whispers, deep, and raspy, as he runs the knuckle of his index finger of your cheek.

And even though his words send your heart fluttering, you push him away with two palms against his chest. “Stop,” you tell him with a shake of your head, “don’t call me that.” 

“What?” He chuckles, and it’s then you realize you missed his laugh, too. “I can’t call you beautiful, or baby?”

“Neither.” There’s a pout to the words, which makes him grin, but you find the situation anything but funny. “And you could have fucking fooled me.”

“What do you mean?” He takes a step back, frowning, and it causes you to huff and narrow your eyes. 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know how you treated me in front of that girl.” With a roll of your eyes, your arms cross over your chest. “And where is she, anyway? Shouldn’t you be getting back to her?”

He shakes his head with a raise of one hand to dismiss your question. “She’s not important,” he tells you, then he steps closer. He erases the gap between the two of you, reaching to press his thumb to your chin to cause you to look into his eyes. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

For a moment, you believe him. The deep whisper of the words fills you with a different kind of heat, rushing from between your thighs to the rest of your body and you consider giving in to him. With how you long for his touch, it would be so easy to forget the situation earlier if you can have him now, no longer picturing him with another girl to render you into an ugly, green monster. No longer feeling your knees weak and chest heavy with heartache, it would be easy to allow him to kiss you to feed your body the affection you crave from him.

But you simply turn your head away from him, allowing his hand to fall from your face and a sigh to slip from his lips.

“You’re just tipsy, you don’t really want to kiss me.”

“I’m not even tipsy,” he chuckles with a shake of his shoulders. “And all I have been thinking about for the last few days is how much I want to kiss you.” 

“Don’t.” Your eyes flick toward him in a piercing gaze. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. Don’t do that to me right now. It’s not funny and there’s no camera recording us, so there’s no point.”

And he leans close once again, hand reaching to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. “Why would you think I don’t mean it?”

It’s hard to resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Because you’re here with another girl.” 

“She doesn’t matter to me. She’s out there flirting with someone else as we speak.” 

You nibble on your bottom lip, wishing it wasn’t so easy to believe what he says. Then you take a deep breath, eyes falling and brow wrinkling as you speak. “And do I matter to you?” The courage to look him in his eye returns a few seconds later, wanting to know the truth, and wishing you didn’t have to wonder about the feelings the two of you share. “Does this, whatever is going on between us, matter to you?” 

His lips part, and you assume he’s going to reply in an instant, as if he already knows the answer and he has been eager to tell you. But then his mouth closes, and he releases a heavy breath through his nose. Once his eyes lower to your mouth, he licks his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue, leaving his jaw slacked before he whispers his next words.

“Can I kiss you?” And the request has the butterflies returning, warmth filling every inch of your face and you wish more than anything it was easier to deny him.

But all you do is nod before your eyes fall shut, lips parting to brace for his skin against your own and when he presses into you, your body grows weak against him. His hands grip your waist to hold you close, lips colliding with lips and skin flushed against skin as you whimper into the kiss. God, did you miss the feel of him, holding you, kissing you, and it’s a feeling you swear you’ll cherish for the moment if you can’t have it forever. Your palms press to the broad expanse of his chest, fingers tightening seconds later to grip a fistful of his t-shirt and his muscles tense beneath your touch a moment after.

“God, you’re incredible,” he gasps the second he pulls away, the gruff way he speaks the words from swollen, red lips sending a shiver down your spine. Then he kisses you again, desperation in the motion with trembling lips and a groan filling in his chest. The noise vibrates against your fists, earning a wave of heat washing over you, pure desire racing through you as an ache settles between your thighs. His breaths deepen as each exhale ghosts over your skin, the two of you already so hot, so worked up that it’s clear the distance between the two of you since the night he left your place, having left so much unsaid, has taken its toll on you both. 

You whimper his name the moment his lips trail down to your jaw. His kisses are quick and desperate, yet full of the affection you crave, the softness you miss, and the desire you once wondered if he felt the same as you. 

“I need you,” he groans, so deep, so raspy, and so full of desperation it resonates deep within your core. His fingers dance beneath the hem of your dress, brushing over your thighs to earn a whimper slipping through a bitten lip from you. His tongue traces the curve of your neck, tasting your skin and you give him better access to your body the moment you tilt your head away from him. 

“You’ve been drinking,” you tell him in an attempt to coax the honesty from his lips. Did he only say such things in the heat of the moment? Does he want you with or without the alcohol, or is he saying the things you want to hear? The questions race through your mind one after another, confusion mixing with doubt that fights with the hope that he means what he says. 

“Only a little,” he corrects you, insisting it’s not because of the alcohol that his need to have you grows with each second. 

“Your girlfriend is waiting for you out there,” you taunt him with a bite to your tone just as his teeth nip your flesh, seeing how far he is willing to go, either continuing with playing pretend so well it nearly hurts, or actually being honest in that you mean more to him than he lets on. 

“Don’t be like that, you know she’s not my girlfriend,” he groans, irritation in the words and you’re not sure if it’s from the statement you made or only due to how much he wants you. “I only care about you. I only want you.” 

And even though there is confusion in your heart and hesitation in your motions, you finally give in to him. Your hand lowers, fingers skimming down his stomach before a palm presses to the bulge in his jeans, and the action has him groaning from surprise in return. Pulling away from your neck, his lips collide with your own once again, passion and pure need in his every motion, dying to have you just as much as you have needed him. 

When his hands push the hem of your skirt higher, he wastes no time hooking his two thumbs into the band of your panties, beginning to push the thin fabric down your thighs until you assist him in peeling them off your legs. Once your panties pool around your heels, you kick them to the side seconds before he grips your thighs, lifting your body onto the sink with your dress bunched around your waist.

There’s a knock on the door by the time you begin plucking at the button to his jeans, but the sound drowns out between groans and whimpers and the sound of a zipper being yanked down in desperation. He struggles with pushing his jeans and briefs down, uncovering his cock the moment he gathers enough coordination, and the sight only causes you to spread your legs wider for him. 

You whisper his name, too afraid of the tremble in your own voice if you speak any louder. “Touch me.” Wrapping your fingers around his wrist in an unsteady grip, you pull him closer, guiding his hand between your thighs. A gasp fills the small bathroom the moment his fingers brush over your folds, easing his touches down your slit and back up, finding your clit a moment later with his thumb to give you what you need.

The heavy breaths between the two of you are the only sounds heard other than the muffled voices and bass from the music on the other side of the door. The moment he lowers his touch to your entrance, another gasp spills from your lips, causing your teeth to sink into your flesh to keep the noises low. He circles your entrance, gathering the arousal that begins to form as a surge of heat rushes through your body from between your thighs. 

Once he eases a single finger inside your walls, all hope is lost for remaining quiet. A whimper slips from your lips louder than you anticipated, head rolling back and jaw slacking. You reach for him to keep a grip on reality, nails digging into him before you gather fistfuls of his t-shirt at his shoulders. Easing his finger in and out of you, he warms you up, hotter than you already were for him, soaking his flesh in your arousal as you clench around him. When he adds another digit, your thighs threaten to close around him, but he steps forward to keep your knees parted with his own hips.

His mouth meets your neck as he buries his two fingers deep within you. He curls them, drawing out quiet whimpers and moans, curses beneath your breath, and a moment later you begin rocking your hips against his hand. Your juices spill onto his skin, getting lost in the moment and no longer caring about the noises you make, or how pathetic you look rutting against him in desperation.

A disappointed whimper escapes your lips the moment he pulls away. Your body aches for him, and each second that passes without feeling him close feels like torture. Your legs widen as he grips his length seconds before brushing the head of his cock against your folds. The sensation earns a bitten lip, furrowed brow, and hips maneuvering to feel more of him, quickly becoming greedy. 

With a palm against your waist as the other holds himself steady, he aligns the tip with your entrance, and you take a deep breath before he eases himself inside of you. In an instant, your head begins to spin. The noises drown out around you, so lost in the moment with him as he thrusts himself deep inside of you. Your body remains hot, bliss filling every inch as soon as you adjust to him filling you up, and as soon as you rock your hips to let him know you need more, he pulls out of your walls only to thrust inside of you once again.

The second time is quicker, much more desperate, earning a sudden gasp from you filling the bathroom as a groan builds in his chest. He grips you by the hips with both hands now, tightening his fingers against your skin as he repeats the motion to have you squeezing yourself around him. The sounds of him pumping into your slick, wet arousal becomes louder the quicker he thrusts into you, zoning out the rest of the party to give you the pleasure you had been so desperate for. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he mumbles between kisses against your lips, and it causes you to hold tight against him with your eyes closed and your jaw slacked. “God, I missed you.” 

With each word, your heart thumps faster against your chest until it rises to your throat, wondering if he means what he says or he is only lost in the moment, just like you. The pleasure he offers gives you only a second to consider the thought before you whimper his name once again, so full of him, so overwhelmed with bliss. He thrusts into you harder, faster, the greed overtaking him as he grunts, and huffs, and groans from feeling you tightening yourself around him. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” he guides you  with a strained voice, forehead pressing to your own just as your hand falls from his shoulder. You listen to the words, fingers finding your clit in a seconds to begin pleasuring yourself, bringing yourself closer to the edge as the world around you shrinks and the bliss surges through your body in waves of electric heat. The addition of your fingers against your clit offers pressure building between your thighs, cursing beneath your breath to mix with his groans from the way he buries his cock so deep inside of you, over and over, drawing out the gasps and the whimpers and even his name from your lips. 

There’s another knock on the door. It’s louder than before, more urgent, and only has him hesitating for a moment before you tell him not to stop. “Please,” you beg him, voice breathless, face hot with a sheen of sweat on your neck, “it feels so good. I’m so close.” 

He has no issues ignoring the sounds from the other side of the door, thankful he twisted the lock when entering. His hips begin to pump faster, thrusting his cock deeper, and in return your fingers quicken, caressing circles into your flesh to leave you gaping with your head rolled back. 

“Come for me, baby,” he encourages, grip on your waist tightening, lips pressing to your skin between words. “Come on my cock.” The choice words send a shiver down your spine as the heat bubbles between your thighs. The tension is thick and the pressure doubles to leave you trembling against him. 

“Fuck, it feels so good,” you whine, brow creased, nails of the other hand digging into his shirt to leave marks against his skin. The words earn his hips thrusting quicker, sporadic and wild. The noises of your skin against his fill the bathroom, mixing with the sounds of him entering you, mixing with your moans and his groans, and all of it has you dangerously close to the fragile line of coming undone. “Fuck…” Your voice fades in a harsh gulp, trembling beneath the waves of heat as the bliss bubbles and you squeeze yourself so tight around him.

“You’re so amazing,” he whispers in a single breath, “so beautiful.” 

And the words bring you that much closer to the edge. You gasp his name, overwhelmed with bliss his offers, the emotions that drive you, the confusion that leaves your heart pounding, and as the heat rises and begins to surge to every inch of your body, you can’t stop the spill of words that has been on the tip of your tongue since you first heard the same from him. “I-I love you… I…”

The first wave of pure pleasure washes over you, swallowing the words with a burst of warmth as the tension uncoils. Your hips rock against him, hand falling from between your legs to allow him to thrust into you quicker, harder, urging the moans from your lips and encouraging you to cling tighter to his body. A gasp fills the small space between the two of you a moment later, thighs tight against his waist, trembling with bliss, walls tightening and relaxing around his cock, and once the pleasure settles and your toes begin to tingle, he grips you tighter.

You have no time to register the slip of words or the fact that he says nothing in return before he’s overwhelming your sensitive body once again. He continues to thrust, eyes closed, brow creased, lips parted. He says nothing, only pants and huffs spilling from within and he leaves you shaking from the force behind each pump of his hips. You clutch him tighter, holding onto him as the whimpers begin filling in your throat once again. 

The moment a heavy exhale leaves his lips, his hips slow and his cock twitches, signaling the pleasure filling him as he releases inside of you. His hold on your waist loosens and his head falls back, jaw slacked as he pants through the bliss. He fills you up, and you cling to him in relief from him pleasuring your already overwhelmed and sensitive body. When his forehead presses to your own once again, the two of you linger in the moment for a few seconds too long, breathless, hot, sweaty, and tired, and once he finally pulls away from you, the emptiness isn’t missed.

He says nothing while he adjusts himself in his jeans as you reach for your panties on the floor. Words fail you as well, only being able to replay the shaky tone of your voice as the three little words with such a heavy meaning slipped from your lips. You wait for him to acknowledge you, to say something, anything, but his eyes remain low, his lips remain shut, and your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. 

“We should get back to the party,” he mumbles, never meeting your eyes to give you the courage to confront him over his sudden change in mood. As he reaches for the door, the only thing that crosses your mind is how you were right, and no matter how much you hate it, you realize he only says the things you want to hear when in the moment. 

So you let him go back to the party after you spend a minute checking your appearance in the mirror. You say nothing else to him for the rest of the time you’re there, faking smiles with everyone else, pretending your heart isn’t crumbling into pieces from him ignoring your confession. And then you walk home alone, each step heavier than the last as the tears well in your eyes before the first drop hits your cheek.

***

A few times the following day, you’re tempted to reach out to him. Though your pride prevents you each time you pick up your phone, and recalling the way he avoided your eyes after you told him you loved him the night before has you tossing the device to the side in a fit of embarrassment and anger. 

And you know you can only blame yourself for being so down in the dumps over him. Even if you want to stay mad at him, you’re the one that insisted on getting the two of you in this situation in the first place thanks to your troubles with money. You’re the one that promised nothing would come between the two of you, that you could remain friends as well as mature adults, and you’re the one that is angry at him for not telling you how he feels, when you only did the same in return. 

Weeks passed as emotions piled on, your heart ached for him, and never once did you want to admit the feelings that began to surface from his care, his gentleness, and his affection while slowly falling in love with him. Each time with him became better than the last, growing more comfortable, falling more in love though you denied it to yourself as well as him. And when he let those three words spill in your ear in the heat of the moment, your heart took it and ran, hoping for something you promised him would never happen. 

Now the realization has you in bed all day, moping, huffing and puffing, picking up the phone, tossing it to the side, wanting to call him, but being scared you have already ruined everything. As the day goes on, it’s clear he isn’t going to make an effort to reach out to you. Each time you think you hear the faint buzz of a new message only returns no new notifications along with disappointment. You find it hard to eat, though you manage to at least shower, and you go to sleep with him on your mind.

When you wake up, he remains in your thoughts that seem to run a mile a minute as you get ready for your shift, and the memories of the last few weeks weigh so heavy on your heart it becomes almost impossible to fake smiles and politeness during the day. 

How could you screw up this much? How could you possibly think the two of you could have a physical relationship without consequences? The questions pop into your mind one after another, missing the orders of a few customers when your thoughts begin to wander. And on your breaks you check your phone in hopes that he wants to talk to you. The temptation to message him rises the more your heart aches, and misses him, and wishes you could go back and change things. There’s no doubt the dormant feelings for your best friend would eventually rise and it’s clear it’s why you were so quick to even proposition him in the first place, but at least you could go about it in a completely different manner if there was a chance to change things. 

By the time you arrive home that evening, your feet ache to overpower your broken heart just a bit, but not by much. Jenny wanders in your bedroom to see you plopped over the sheets, head buried in your arms and voice muffled when you decline her offer of ordering take-out for the two of you. She insists she wants to have a much needed girls’ night, and you know she senses your bad mood enough to want to help, but isn’t sure how to go about it without pressuring you to talk. Even if you know she cares, you brush her off all the same, only wanting to be alone. 

You sit in the same spot until your eyelids grow heavy. The memories of the last few weeks play on your mind to torture you, from the beginning until the night of the party. You recall the frustrations over money, the light bulb above your head when you came up with your idea, and the moment you propositioned him to leave him wide-eyed with surprise. The night crosses your mind where the two of you pushed all the awkward nerves and butterflies out of the way under the basis that it would make recording easier, having your first time with one another where the butterflies doubled and your heart fluttered for the first time when you thought about the two of you together. 

Each time with him pops into your mind, images flood your thoughts of the experiences you shared. Your stomach twists at the thought of growing more comfortable in your skin thanks to him, hearing his encouraging words spoken deep and husky, the cute pet names that made you smile beneath a bitten lip, and the way he called you beautiful to the point it felt nothing but natural. Whether it was for the camera or not doesn’t matter to you in the moment. He said it, whatever the reason, and the thought has you grinning to yourself though your heart still aches as you lay across your bed.  

The memories of two nights before take over the good thoughts, butterflies diminishing in a matter of seconds. Picturing him with another girl has your stomach twisting, and the way he brushed you off as if you didn’t matter to him has the red, hot anger bubbling in your chest. It tightens with each thought of him from that night. From the way he allowed her to touch him to the moment he snuck into the bathroom to find you there replays like a bad dream until nausea sets in, and you don’t know if you’re sick with anger, jealousy, or maybe it’s a bit of both.

Though you still admit you have no right to be jealous, and you have no right to expect him to feel the same as you, the embarrassment of hearing nothing but his silence after you told him you loved him makes it all the more difficult to reason with yourself. The outburst was so unlike yourself, having to admit all the times spent together where you swore you only saw him as a friend was nothing but denial over the years, and even as the realization sets in that getting yourself into the situation made you see him in the way you were always meant to, you begin to shift the anger toward yourself, knowing you can’t blame him anymore than you can blame yourself.

The confusion takes hold as the memories blur and your head begins to ache. Before you can stop yourself, you reach for your phone you previously tossed to the side, tapping your thumbs to the screen until you type out your message to him without thinking twice.

Did it really mean nothing to you?

You stare at the words on the screen, reading the line once, and twice, and three times until you toss your phone to the side once again. As the minutes pass without a word from him, you get the answer you were dreading. Though you knew it was a possibility, as you finally gain the strength to shower, brush your teeth, and slip on your pajamas, the weight of the confirmation that everything he said was only for the camera settles with a sharp pain in your chest. You don’t bother looking at your phone again before drifting off to sleep, hoping by morning the thoughts of him will become less frequent, and the ache in your heart lessens just enough to get through the day.

***

Your head and your heart hurt no less than the day before. Thankfully you have the pleasure of your manager keeping you busy with table after table and steaming hot plates to distract you only enough to get through most of your shift. You have to admit the harder you work, the more you sweat, and the more your feet ache, you can only think of him and what seemed like a good thing going on. 

As the time nears closer to your last break of your shift, you find yourself thinking of how nice it would be to go back and do things differently. Whether you would think nothing of his sudden confession for the camera or turn your heart to stone so it didn’t bother you either way, you’re unsure, but thanks to lousy tips and a tired body, you wish it didn’t all come crumbling down before you had a chance to really make a difference in your situation.

And as you check the clock to see it’s five minutes until break, a familiar face strolls through the glass doors of the diner. The bell echoing throughout the place earns your attention, spotting him with eyes scanning each waitress until his sights set on you. And maybe it’s not the money that you’re upset on missing out on, but him as well. After not seeing him for days, the sight of him should anger you, maybe even sadden you a bit, but all it does is earn a pounding heart and stomach full of butterflies. 

His eyes fall to his sneakers as he takes his time making his way toward you. You refill your customer's coffee with a forced smile, then take a deep breath before turning to make your way toward him. 

“I can’t give you any free food,” is all you say while pushing past him, brushing his arm to cause him to freeze. As if the icy tone of your words hasn’t been bad enough, being so standoffish and on guard has him gulping and scratching his head before following you.

“I don’t want food,” he admits, stumbling behind you as you make your way to the front to replace the coffee pot. “I just want to talk to you.”

“I’m busy.” You whip around with two new plates in your hand, not bothering to meet his wide, desperate eyes while he follows you to another table.

“Can you go on break?” he asks, the urgency growing in his voice to cause a pang in your heart, but you push the ache down to the pit of your stomach, raising your chin with a clenched jaw. The moment you get to your customer’s table, the forced smile returns, handing the older couple their food and asking if they need anything else, happy when they shake their heads with a “no, thank you”. 

“Please, just talk to me,” he begins to beg the moment you walk away from the table, following behind like a lost puppy. You say nothing, crossing the diner to gather the tips your previous customer left you, and only until he begins muttering the words you were so scared to hear do you freeze. “I meant it… what I said to you.”

“What?” You finally look his way, eyes meeting his own, heart sinking to your stomach.

“When I told you I loved you.” He gulps, not being able to hold your gaze for too long. “I meant it.”

For a moment, you want to believe him. His voice, the words, the sincerity in his tone has your ice-cold heart melting just a bit, but the memories flood your mind of the night of the party. The way he pretended not to hear what you said when you told him the same, confiding in him something you had kept to yourself since the moment the two of you started playing pretend for the camera, and the thought has you scoffing while shoving the tips in your apron. 

“You don’t love me, you just enjoyed having sex with me. You’re confused.” The words release beneath your breath as you glare at him, but the moment he begins to chuckle and shake his head, he catches you off guard.

“That’s funny.”

You frown, wondering what he could possibly find humorous, but you don’t give him a chance to explain. “I’m taking break!” you yell to Sara in the back of the diner, spotting her smile as she nods her head in confirmation she will check on your table. You spare no glance toward him while making your way past the bathrooms and pushing the swinging door open to step into the alley at the back of the restaurant, but he follows without a word.  

“What is?” you finally ask, turning your body to him before folding your arms over your chest. “What is so funny?”

“That you think I only started to feel this way since we started this whole thing.” He steps closer while your heart drums against your chest from the words, and you almost expect him to touch you, grab you, hold you, and you hate yourself in the moment for wanting him to. However, he only shoves his hands in his pockets before releasing a sigh, and then he continues. “That you think I haven’t been in love with you for so much longer than that, and that I was only too afraid to admit it. Why do you think I agreed to start this whole thing in the first place? Why do you think it was so easy to get closer to you?” 

Now you’re the one gulping, heart aching, chest weighing so heavy from his words, but something inside pulls at the need to trust him again. Something holds you back. It’s either fear, or worry, or your own insecurities that don’t allow you to believe what he says. 

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have been flaunting another girl around me. You wouldn’t have dodged the question when I asked what I meant to you and you wouldn’t have said nothing when I told you I loved you. You made me feel like an idiot.” 

“I know.” He rubs the back of his neck, brow furrowed and you’re aware how difficult it is for him to come to terms with the situation. And it’s hard to blame him, knowing the two of you were the closest of friends and now you’re so unsure why your hearts ache for one another and why you miss him so damn much. “I fucked up. I was scared of how I felt. I was scared of losing what we had and even more scared of scaring you off because of my own feelings for you, and I fucked up. Hearing you say the words made it so much more real than I was ready for and I… I panicked.”

“Sure,” you tell him, but the words aren’t as cold as they were before. You gulp, knowing you need more convincing, and knowing you’re too afraid to give in only to feel like an idiot once again. 

“Do you know what it’s like to have such a thing only be a fantasy for so long, and when it comes true it’s so much more than you can handle?” You say nothing, but from your silence he’s aware you understand. “God, I was so stupid and such a coward, and I’m so sorry, but I meant what I said the last night we recorded together. I love you. I’m in love with you, and I have been for such a long time it’s actually pathetic to think about how good I was at hiding it from you, and even from myself.”

“I…” Your words fade, leaving you with a slacked jaw as your arms fall to your sides.

“And I miss you.” He finally steps closer, grabbing you by the hips to lean toward you, lips nearly brushing over your own as your eyes flutter and you inhale the comforting scent of him. “I miss spending time with you, and I miss getting close to you and feeling you so close to me. I miss hearing your laugh, and sometimes when everything else felt terrible with our shitty money situation, the only thing that seemed right was being with you, and I miss that, too. I’m sorry for hurting you, and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner and confusing you, but I’m not afraid of how I feel anymore. So, please, baby, please forgive me.”

As his words sink in, taking each and every syllable to heart, your palms press to his chest, cherishing how it feels to have him so close to you once again. The string tugging on your heart to hold you back from believing his words snaps, chest swelling, unraveling the emotions you kept behind the wall the moment he walked into the diner. Your eyes close, your teeth sink into your bottom lip, and the words he speaks linger on your mind long enough to keep you silent as he begins to mumble once again.

“I-I’m sorry,” he exhales, pressing his forehead to your own. “Please… say something.”

But all you can do is chuckle now, pulling away to shake your head, leaving his wide eyes full of curiosity. “We are really stupid, you know that?” It takes him a few seconds to register the softness in your voice before he grins. “Stupid for hiding how we feel and probably stupid for getting ourselves into this mess in the first place, but… I don’t regret it.”

“You don’t?” His brows arch and you don’t think his eyes could widen any more, causing you to grin and shake your head.

“I don’t,” you sigh. “There are probably a million other ways we could have went about this, but I don’t regret what we did. I don’t regret getting close to you, or allowing you to get close to me. And I-” 

The words stall to leave his jaw slacked, until he hums for you to continue.

“And I love you. I do love you, and I was just as stupid and just as much of a coward.” Your eyes close as you speak, and he holds you tighter against him. “I was scared, too. I was scared of my own feelings, and scared of breaking my promise that nothing would change. That’s why I got scared when we kissed without the camera that night. I didn’t want to let you down, or change things, and I was scared of not having you in my life anymore because of a mistake. But more so than that, I was scared you really didn’t feel the same way while thinking I was imagining everything in that moment.”

A moment of silence passes as he takes in your words. Then he exhales, pulling away just enough to press a finger beneath your chin, earning your eyes on him. “You don’t have to be scared of that,” he tells you with a grin, eyes shifting from your own to your lips, and back again. “I love you,” is all he says a moment before leaning closer, pressing his trembling lips to yours waiting to feel his soft skin after missing him. A whimper builds in your throat only he can hear, and he wraps an arm around your body to hold you against him. Melting into him, you forget your worries for the moment, his kiss ridding you of the insecurities and the doubts, and you relish how it feels to be so close to him once again.

The sound of the diner door bursting open startles the both of you, causing you to push him away before smoothing your hands over your apron. Spotting Sara with a smirk on her face as your stomach twisting as you begin mumbling your apologies for taking so long on your break, and his eyes fall to the ground.

“I’ll be right in,” you tell her, noticing her narrowed gaze switching between the two of you. Then she nods with a grin that tells you she’s going to be asking you all about it and heads inside, leaving the both of you chuckling as the realization sets in. “I… uh, gotta go back to work. We can talk about this more afterward, okay?”

He nods, grin still plastered over his lips at the idea of getting a chance to express what he’s been holding in for so long. “When is your shift over?”

“In two hours.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

Your brows arch, head tilting just a bit to one side. “You’ll wait around for two hours?”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a shrug. “If you can get me some food.”

Scoffing, you nudge his shoulder before turning away from him, getting back to your tables and, much to your surprise, he decides to wait around until your shift is over, catching his eyes every once in a while and feeling the burn of his gaze fill your cheeks. Knowing that you have fallen for your best friend that is in love with you as well fills you with butterflies, heart racing whenever the realization clicks and a smile forms over your lips at the thought of getting to spend your days with him just like you have been. Except now, you know everything you feel for one another is completely real. 

#bts smut #nct smut #got7 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #harry styles smut #bts scenarios #stray kids scenarios #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #the boyz smut #the boyz scenarios #ateez imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt smut #bts x reader #stray kids x reader #ateez x reader

[tunatoge]

forks and forts - aged up!m. fushiguro x reader

contents: megumi takes care of you

a/n: im in the middle of a five page paper for a class so i wanted to post a lil fluff to help me get my thoughts under control o< -< he honestly might b a lil ooc but i hope u like it n e way

you let out a happy sigh as you sink into the bathtub, nose gently kissing the suds that fill the top layer of the tub. as you gently slide back upwards, you tilt your head to your right, resting your ear on the cold porcelain of the garden tub. megumi stares at you from the bathroom door, his hair pushed up with a silly bear themed headband you’d bought him months ago. he flicks the bathroom light on and you shrink back into the lukewarm bath water, squinting as your eyes adjust. you scrunch your nose as he leans over the bathroom counter and blows out your newly purchased bath and body works candle, sending dainty tendrils of smoke into the air.

“how long are you gonna’ be in here?” megumi looks at his reflection in the mirror and squints, immediately reaching for the container of q-tips to his left.

you sigh as you sit up properly and lean over your knees, you knock your forehead into your legs before turning your head to look at him, your cheek pressed snuggly against your legs still. cold air blows against your wet skin and you shiver in the tub. you watch as megumi brings the q-tips to his cheek and presses them together on a pimple, his brows furrowed in disgust and concentration over his ministrations.

you don’t know what time it is, but you’ve an inkling it’s been over your usual hour–especially after seeing megumi come into the bathroom. he knows to leave you alone when you’ve made yourself cozy in the tub.

“i put your takeout in the oven,” he says, glancing over at you as he tosses the q-tips in the trash and washes his hands. he digs around behind the bathroom mirror for a second before pulling out acne patches and a pair of neon pink tweezers, pressing a patch onto his cheek with a shrug. “i also made a fort in the living room and put on your favorite movie… wanna join me?” he turns to you, his cheeks tinted pink at your hunched over form. he rubs at his nape as he looks at you, and his blue eyes hold admiration; the only time an active shine takes over his pretty blue eyes is when he’s looking at you. your stomach and heart do a flip in tandem and you bite back a smile. you silently thank every god you know for megumi and the way that he cares for you.

you sigh again, this time filled with giddy, child-like love, “yeah, but i need to wash my hair first…”

megumi lets out a huff, and if you hadn’t known him better you would've thought he was annoyed with you, but you know he doesn’t mean it in a mean way. especially when he immediately pads over to you and drops down to his knees next to the tub, “i can do that,” he says somewhat monotonously and you smile at him, fondness overtaking your features and a breathy ‘thank you’ on your lips.

he rolls up his sleeves and dips his hands into the bath, grunting at how cold the water is, before reaching for the bottle of strawberry scented shampoo. you watch as he flips the top open, attempting to squirt a generous amount onto his hand. the bottle makes a sound as he shakes it up and down and squeezes. you giggle at the noise.

“i’ll buy more tomorrow,” megumi says more to himself than to you and closes the bottle, satisfied with the amount squirted out into his open palm.

he sets the empty bottle down next to him to rinse it out and put it in recycling later and sets to work his lithe fingers into your hair, scratching at your scalp. you let out a hum of approval and his face warms again at the little sound.

“thank you, gumi,” you say happily as he dips a hand into the water and stands to grab the shower head.

“yeah, whatever,” he mumbles, bringing the shower head down and turning the water on. he lets you run your fingers under the faucet to approve of the temperature before pulling the little latch. “can you turn around?” he asks and you nod, shifting around in the tub so your back is to the faucet.

the spray of water against your scalp is warm as megumi runs his fingers through your hair, scratching softly against your head as he cleans the suds out of your hair. you close your eyes and hum quietly, opening your eyes briefly when megumi asks that you hold onto the shower head. you agree silently, taking it into your hand while megumi lathers your hair in a generous amount of conditioner. he runs his fingers through your hair, making sure to get all of your hair.

“thank you,” you say again when he finally takes back the shower head. he huffs out a laugh as he rinses the conditioner from your hair, lifting and lowering your hair to get it all out.

by the time he’s finished, the water in the tub is soapier than before and significantly warmer. megumi helps you out of the water, careful to make sure you don’t slip. once he’s assured you’re out of the tub safely, he reaches into the foamy water and pulls the stopper, letting the liquid drain noisily. you’re in awe with the way he moves, so smoothly next to you. he helps you dress after he wipes his soapy hands and forearm and then draws you out to the living room where his fort lays waiting.

“get comfy,” he tells you, watching as you curl up in the pile of pillows and blankets thrown on the floor. the coffee table is pressed against the far wall and megumi reassures you that he’ll put it back once the two of you are done.

megumi leaves for a moment to grab your food for you, you assume, so you look for a movie. you think you’ve seen nearly everything that any streaming service offers but you still look. in the end, megumi is going to pick—always some movie recommended to him by yuuji or gojo. it’s always something good, too.

“you find anything?” megumi asks as he sits down next to you, balancing a to-go box in his arms. you sit up and wrap your blanket around his shoulders, pulling him into you tightly.

“trade me?” you ask, pawing at your food with a blanket-wrapped hand. megumi hands you the container and takes up the tv remote, his dark blue eyes on the tv as he easily navigates to a movie. you hum in delight at the movie he puts on, the sound turning a little sour when the audio blares too loudly. megumi lowers it before you can ask.

you cozy up into megumi even further and open your to-go container, pleased to find that steam emits from the cheap chinese food inside. without having to ask, he’d microwaved your food for you.

“thank you,” you tell him around a mouthful of warm noodles, your eyes trained on him instead of the actors on screen.

megumi looks at you and the admiration comes back. he smiles small and shyly, nearly impossible to see in the dark. “anything for you,” he promises you.

you knock your knee into his under the blankets and he offers his food to you, letting you take a piece of chicken because like he said—he’d do anything for you.

#vians.scribbs #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fluff #jjk x reader fluff