#because he wanted the other students to give him free shit and save him seats and things like that

[egophiliac]

happy new year Ego!!! Just wanted to let you know that I absolutely adore your twst fanart and the tags are just an absolute pleasure to read! You are my greatest inspiration for my personal twst art and I just wanted to thank you for your wonderful masterpieces <333 if possible, may I ask what are some of your headcanons for the diasomnia family? If not for diasomnia then any other characters are fine as well!

thank you, and happy new year! 💚💜💚 that is amazing to hear; it's always a little bewildering but super flattering that other people like my silly little doodles so much!

I don't think I really have any really solid headcanons and also canon keeps validating me left and right (FLUFFY DOMESTIC DIAFAM IS REAL). mostly just kind of...impressions and general thoughts, if that makes sense! lately though I've been kind of obsessed with thinking about Lilia's hair, and specifically when/why he ended up cutting it. (l-look, we're bouncing around the timeline and I gotta make decisions about these things when I draw, it's relevant) (I mean I would probably be weirdly fixated on this anyway, but.)

I think I've settled on the idea that he kept it long until he went to NRC, partly because 1) I like drawing The Ponytail, and 2) I think he thought of NRC as a chance to reinvent himself a bit! he gets to go and be a wacky carefree teenager for a few years and have fun! (officially he's there to keep an eye on Son #1, but how much trouble could he get into, really.) so he gave himself a Cool Teen Haircut to go with his fresh new Cool Teen Persona!

also maybe he had some reflection on his hair's troubled past with three kids...

...and had to weigh his vanity versus the fact that he was going off to be around hundreds of kids on a daily basis, and. the choice suddenly seemed obvious.

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 part 6 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 part 6 spoilers #this is my blog and i'm going to write a million words about lilia and you can't stop me #but anyway i do genuinely get the impression that he's using Pretending to Be a Teenager as a chance to be even sillier than usual #he's a very silly man he's just being EXTRA silly #supported by his recent birthday card where he says he was specifically trying to cast himself as an adorable little brother-type #because he wanted the other students to give him free shit and save him seats and things like that #it worked for about a week before he turned out to be way too good at stuff and everyone just kind of ended up in awe of him instead #and he was like DANGIT. I'VE RUINED IT FOR MYSELF. #(then he and epel went on to talk about their hypothetical vtubersonas because the birthday cards are INSANE but anyway) #i'm bad at headcanons :( sorry! #unless it's dumb things like...what pokemon they would have or whatever #(malleus would have some kind of special fancy-colored dragapult) (but i digress) #i have a hard time putting things into words. just know that i love the grampa bat and his weird kids very much. #my brain is also still kind of fried from the last couple of weeks #i am however starting 2024 off the way i intend to continue it: in deep contemplation of anime hair #(sorry if these look weirdly aliased) (i realized about 3/4 of the way through i was using the wrong brush and i didn't want to restart :U)

[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

[yeppeudau]

Chapter twenty-five: P1 FLOP

banner by: @/seungstarss

⎙ synopsis: In which you and Soobin have a crush on the others bff, who which coincidentally, are dating. So you do what any other people with a common goal would, and try to break them up. Except it doesn't go exactly as planned...

playlist

⎙word count: 1.6k

⎙warnings: quick mention of shitting and throwing up

♡a/n: one picture in the middle and some at the end. sorry this took so long I was doing last minute changes, enjoy! Also! I have new smau coming soon here!

You arrive at the game with Beomgyu, a bright grin plastered on your face. You couldn't be anymore excited to hangout with him, even if it was only for an hour or so, You'd take what you can get.

Scanning over the gymnasium you recognize a certain group of particularly rowdy students, they never stop do they? Turning to Beomgyu you point over to where your friends are telling him they probably saved a seat for the two of you. Taking his arm you start directing him over to where the others are, when he suddenly stops to glance around the gym once, and then one more time before opening his mouth "Do you think we can see Areum before the game starts?"

You go silent for a moment, of course he'd want to see her that is his girlfriend after all. Maybe you went silent for too long because Beomgyu must have noticed your silence as he opens his mouth again but you beat him to it.

"...She's probably busy! Maybe after halftime? "

You guess that was a good enough answer because whatever he was about to say doesn't come out his mouth as he just nods in response. And you take that as you signal to keep walking to your seats.

Once you get up to the bleachers you're greeted by your friends, who tell you where the seats they saved. You settle down on the uncomfortable wooden bleacher resting your feet on the one the vacant one below as Beomgyu does the same. He's focused on the basketball teams warm up currently going on in front of him and you try to do the same but you can't help but be more interested in the boy next to you, then the loud sounds of shoes squeaking on the gym floor and boys passing a ball back and forth.

"The view is pretty good over here" He says, snapping you out of your thoughts to only let out a light hum in agreement.

After that he asks you about how you've been, and that he apologizes for stealing Areum so much, to which you joke he needs to give her a boyfriend free day (or every day) and the conversation runs as smoothly from there. With the occasionally cheering when you notice your team has scored or the 'boo's' of the other. None of this is anything special to you but its a nice familiar feeling you missed.

+

"So are you still drawing?" the question comes very out of left field to you considering you had just been talking about how you finally managed to reach diamond in LOL (*League of Legends). But of course you answer him anyway,

"Oh.. Yea, I'm in the art club after all I kind of have to." you state simply

He chuckles "You act like you only draw for art club."

"Well I haven't drawn on my own in a bit.." you trail off a bit, already knowing what the next question will be

"Well why not?" he asks with a slight tilt of his head.

'Because my inspiration is never around ', is what you want to say, but you don't. Instead opting for a shrug of your shoulders, which he just looks at you for what seems like a bit too long before huming in response

Sometimes deep down you wonder if Beomgyu actually knows how much he affects you, how all of you sketchbooks are full of him and its not just on "occasion". But you don't sit on that too long before you're soon brought out of your thoughts when Beomgyu tells you he's going to take a bathroom break and he'll be back soon to which you give him a nod.

As he walks off you're about to take out your phone when someone ruffle your hair

"What the- Oh its just you Yeonjun" you say dryly

Yeonjun scoffs while his lips form into a warm smile as he moves to occupy the used to be  empty seat next to you "Wow could you sound more excited? Anyway how are things going over here?"

You roll your eyes "Do you think things are going well?"

The boy next to you rests his chin between his thumb and finger pretending to think for a moment before shrugging "I don't know, I've been trying to beat Huening in smash this whole time." He gests with his chin over to the boy currently hunched over his Nintendo Switch. Why even come if they weren't going to watch? Well you're not here to watch the game either, but you smile a little at how hard it looks like Kai is trying.

"Do you not think things are going well?" Yeonjun asks bringing your attention back to him

"Aside from him noticeably stopping himself from checking his phone the last 5 minutes?" you let out a short sigh "I guess so."

+

Eventually 5 minutes turn to 10, and 10 turns to half time and Beomgyu still isn't back yet from the bathroom. You were supposed to have him out of here by now. but the world does not seem to be on your side today.

You have half a mind to take out your phone and ask him where he is. But the guaranteed he'd see it right now when you have an idea of what he's doing deters you away from that idea, instead opting to text his best friend.

And when he doesn't answer you simply scoff "Could he really be that busy?" Things are best done yourself you suppose.

+

After letting one of your friends know you're going to the "bathroom" you make your way down the mostly empty halls of the school, only seeing the occasional teacher or what you assume are some student council members busily walking around. All this when they don't even know if the team will win? Well the last you saw the scoreboard it was looking pretty good so maybe optimism is a virtue, was that the saying?

Since you can't just walk into the boys bathroom and check -at least not with these people around- you opt for heading to the student council room.

As you're about to turn the corner you stop yourself and peep around it instead when you hear and then notice the all too familiar couple at the end of the hall, happily talking. Not missing the way Beomgyu reaches for Areums hand and how she smiles oh so brightly in response. 'Completely enamored with each other, typical' you think rolling your eyes a little at the sight of them, acting like they aren't in a school (as if that's the reason) but no one is around anyway. Maybe you should be more concerned about looking like a creep if someone sees you like this.

You stare for just a little longer before noticing they are definitely going in for a kiss and you quickly turn away hiding behind the wall. You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding in as you close your eyes leaning back against the cold bricks, though you expected this it still doesn't hurt any less.

"I told you it wouldn't work"

You jump startled, eyes snapping open at the unexpected voice as you hold your hand to your chest. Until you finally realize who exactly is in front of you, you punch their arm "God you scared me!"

"Ow!" the blue haired boy winces as he rubs his arm before he mumbles something along the lines of 'Maybe pay attention.'

You glare at him, how dare he tell you to pay attention when he firstly, opened his big mouth first, secondly ignored your messages, and thirdly helped let this happen. Unreliable much?

"Shut up, don't you get tired of being a kill joy?"

Soobin pursues his lips as he peaks around the corner to look at the couple then back to you "At times like these no, not at all."

You frown a little as you cross your arms at his response. "Well I'm used to this and nothing works on the first try after all!" you say trying to sound as confident as you can, which doesn't seem to workd as Soobin scoffs at you for this, maybe you just are that delusional.

"That's what you got from this?" he asks and you mindlessly nod before pushing yourself from the wall you were leaning on "Well I'm gonna go."

"Go where?" he raises his eyebrow at you

You think for a second if he really needs to know, which he doesn't but you decide to tell him anyway "Home? There is no point in me staying here if he's not gonna pay attention to me." You shrug. Not that you didn't have other reasons to stay, your friends are here, you'd get to see the basketball team kick butt and you'd get your free food. But if you're being honest you're no longer in a good mood, and for once its not just because Soobin showed up.

At that he blinks a couple times as if taken a back by how blunt your response just was "Wow.. you sound like a real narcissist right now." he states simply. You take that thought back, it is because he showed up.

"Thanks!-" You fake exclaim, making sure he can see your eye roll "-Anyway enjoy looking at that." You throw your thumb back over your shoulder to where your best friends are around the corner before you simply walk away.

"She really is a piece of work..." is all you hear Soobin mumble while walking off.

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taglist(open): @maitenight @kori-roe @rich-man-v @gyuville @darrensos @etherealcherrie @jjunis @i-yeseo @igotkpoops @ashxxkook @ilvaussie @soobin-chois @cha0thicpisces @ineedaherosavemeenow @luvsoobs

blue means couldn't be tagged</3

#wkcnet #txt x reader #txt smau #soobin x reader #choi soobin #soobin smau #soobin imagines #txt social media au #tomorrow by together #smau #social media au #high school au #enimes to lovers #Best Friends🩹

[ladyanput]

Ok so this is the third time that I'm sending you an ask tonight. (or is it night time in your country?) I'm being annoying right now but whatever. So I've been cackling about those salt fics you wrote because they are just amazing. I have a request, though it is up to you to write it or not. So, can you write a salt fic where someone got an interview with Ladybug (probably Aurore) and then they ask her why they replaced the old heroes like Rena Rouge, Carapace and etc. and LB is just like I don't work with dumb shits or somethin'. Then there is also a new Black Cat (Probably Luka, Felix, or Damian) because Adrien here is an asshole and this fic is saltier than salt water. Then LB also insults Alya's blog and their school. Those foolish mortals get some lawsuits and the rest is up to you. (This request is probably messed up since it's already midnight here and I can't sleep.)

You're never annoying, I just apologize that it took me so long to get to you. I do hope you don't hold it against me, darling.

A one on one interview with Ladybug was basically unheard of if you weren't the Ladyblog or Nadja Chadwick. Ladybug had made it firm that she wasn't a celebrity, she was a hero. She wasn't there for clout, for attention, for fame or fortune. She just wanted to keep Paris safe.

That's was Aurore admired about her. And why she felt queasy as she sat across from the heroine, who had given her of all people an interview. But she got ahold of herself, taking deep breaths as the cameraman began counting down. And when he hit 'one', she put on her best smile and straightened in her seat.

"Hello Paris! Welcome back to 'Latest Buzz'! I am your lovable host, Aurore Beauréal. Today I am here with a very, very special guest, our very own heroine of Paris; Ladybug!"

Ladybug beamed right at the camera, but gave a shy little wave, giving away the nerves she obviously had.

"Now, Ladybug, I'm so glad you requested to be on the show. You know, I initially thought I had misheard when Estelle told me. Usually you're not big on personal interviews." Aurore gave her full attention to Ladybug, but keeping the bright, friendly smile and perfect posture.

"Well, I tried a few times actually. But when I did, none of them were really great experiences." Ladybug admitted and both girls immediately thought of that disastrous Face-to-Face interview. It left a bitter taste in their mouths. "My issue is that misinformation has been spread around a lot recently. It's made me realize that I need to find more trustworthy sources."

"Ladybug. I vow on my integrity as a host and Estelle's reputation as a journalist that we are people who research facts. We don't ambush our guests, we respect them." She said, placing a hand on her heart. Ladybug saw an honesty in her eyes that she hadn't seen in such a long time. It honestly made her feel.. Respected. "Now, Ladybug.. We both know you have a lot of fans. A lot of admirers. False information can be spread so easily these days, which sources specifically are you telling people to avoid?"

"Well.. With Face-to-Face, I found that I was entirely ambushed in that interview. I wanted to speak about my hero work, but instead Nadja kept trying to needle her way into my personal life. That picture she had shown in largely out of context; when Dark Cupid attacked and Chat Noir was under his spell, it was the only way to get him free."

"Yes, I remember watching that. I'll be honest Ladybug, I felt bad for you." Aurore bit her lip, but smiled a bit when Ladybug nodded. "I mean, Chat Noir wasn't helping either. He seemed to be trying to push this narrative forward that you two are a couple."

"And we're not!" Ladybug burst out before she could stop herself. Everyone in that studio could hear the utter stress and frustration in her voice. "I've begged and begged Chat Noir to stop with the flirting, the 'telling people we're dating', everything! I just wanted him to focus and he couldn't seem to do that!"

"Is that why you replaced him? Because of his slacking off and refusing to take anything seriously?" Aurora sat up an bit straighter, her eyes going wide.

".. Not exactly, no. It was a bunch of issues that eventually piled up and boiled over." Ladybug made some gestures with her hands, trying her hardest to find the words but just letting out a long and pained sigh in the end. "I do enjoy my new partner now. He is more serious, more stable. I know he won't go off and pout if I deny something he wanted. I needed an entirely new team, as a matter of fact."

"Well I am going to say, on behalf of everyone here, that we're glad. We swear on our integrity as journalists that if such rumours were to ever surface again, we will do our proper research." Aurore beamed and many of the staff and crew behind the cameras nodded and gave Ladybug their thumbs up. Honestly, it warmed Ladybug's heart to see such support.

When had been the last time someone had supported her like this? Sure, her parents supported her, but her friends..? Her peers? No, none of them had supported her in a long time.

"Speaking of research, I'd say to stay away from the Ladyblog." It burned to say it but it had to be said. Alya had crossed so many lines it wasn't even forgivable at this point. She had gone too far, had betrayed too many.

"Wait, what?" Aurore nearly jumped out of her seat but quickly composed herself, taking a deep breath. "Pardon me Ladybug, but the Ladyblog has been a vital source of information since the very beginning."

"And I'm not denying that!" Ladybug quickly held up her hands, her eyes desperate now. "But please let me explain. The Ladyblog was amazing in the beginning, but like all things, it started to go astray. It was things like trying so hard to find out my identity. Trying to push that narrative of that whole superhero couple thing.. Ladyblogger Alya Césaire has proven time and time again that she is not trustworthy. I mean, I thought she was my biggest fan. Why does she keep pushing my words aside?"

Many people who watched the interview would agree. If you idolized someone, respected someone, truly looked up to them.. Why would you push aside their words, their wishes to try and push the narrative you're so convinced is true, but isn't there?

"And don't get me started on the whole Lila Rossi craze she seemed to be on now." At Ladybug's mention of Lila Rossi, both Estelle and Aurore had to keep from rolling their eyes. They knew all about the girl.

"You speak as if you are quite frustrated, Ladybug. What an odd reaction to your best friend." Aurore leaned forward a bit in her seat. Everyone else got to the edge of theirs. Ladybug only shook her head, looking utterly defeated.

"That's the thing, she isn't my best friend." It took everything to keep from satin that she hated her, that she had taken away her friends and her life. "The only times she's met Ladybug is when she's been akumatized, which has been around six or seven times at this point. And the other things she's claiming are so outlandish! Saving Jagged Stone's kitten from a airport runway? Clara Nightengale stealing her dance moves? And the Ladyblog just posts it out there, claiming every single story is true. I'm just scared that people are taking this one hundred percent seriously. That's why I had to drop Rena Rouge and Carapace from the team as they believed Lila Rossi over me. They didn't even try to confirm these rumours! And it hurts to think that one day, someone will take Lila's words seriously and get hurt. What if she says it's safe to dip strawberries in bleach? Or tells someone that she found a way to tame some kind of wild animal? Someone would get hurt because they believe her story and try it out for themselves!"

"My goodness, I can definitely see how that is a problem. Misinformation is very easy to spread thanks to the internet, so you being worried is a very relatable thing." Aurore nodded, then tilted her head ever so slightly. "Ladybug, do you know anyone who has taken her word seriously? This is besides the Ladyblog of course."

Ladybug closed her eyes briefly, mentally debating with herself before finally giving in. These things needed to be said.

"Collège François DuPont. Now I wasn't there personally, but I heard about this situation and looked into it. The entire situation was appalling. Apparently a student was found to have cheated, assaulted another student, and commited thievery. But the thing that stuck out is only one person saw her do all of these things; Lila Rossi. No investigation was done, no questioning other students. This student was then expelled immediately. Her teacher and her principal didn't even give her a chance. And from what people have been saying, Miss Rossi's behaviour is actively encouraged in that school. She misses countless days, no, months of school, claiming she's traveling. But when she was supposedly in Achu, doing whatever it was she was claiming with Prince Ali, I was fighting her akuma here in Paris on Heroes Day!"

"I was at school the day that happened. I knew the student that happened to. They're the nicest person in that school! Never a bad thing to say about anyone, always willing to help! I agree with you on how things were handled, it's a level of incompetence that is baffling." Aurore's hands slowly curled into fists as she remembered it all. She slowly shook her head. "The principal, their teacher, their class who backed up Rossi. It must have hurt them so much, made them feel so alone."

"That's why I want people to be more careful with what information they take as fact. It's so important, because stuff like that can lead people to a desperate place. They feel alone, like the entire world is against them. I wouldn't have let the principal and the teacher get away with that gross negligence in their jobs." Ladybug leveled her gaze directly to the camera. "People of Paris, please listen to what I am saying. I am here to be a hero, to protect you from the terror of Hawkmoth and to defeat him. But please, do not be like Principal Damocles, do not be like that teacher and her class at DuPont. Do your research, look up your facts. Do not let a liar lead you to do something dangerous and hurt yourself as well as others. Respect each other, talk and be honest. I swear on my life that I shall do the same. You are the people I swore to protect and I love. I am saying this all to protect you. And I'll hope you'll all forgive me for not protecting you sooner."

...

The interview rocked Paris. Ladybug speaking so openly about her frustrations, about the discrepancies in the Ladyblog and Lila Rossi had many people double checking the sources of everything they learned from that blog.

Alya could barely show her face as she made her way though the school hallways. Her reputation as a journalist had gone down the drain. People had basically started boycotting her blog, harrassing her, or trash talking her on other forums and sites. Even a lot of news outlets picked this up.

What hurt the most from that interview last night was Ladybug's words towards her, both as Rena Rouge and as Alya. Surely the heroine had to be mistaken, she had never beytrayed Ladybug! And that Oblivio incident, it was just to show Chat Noir and Ladybug that they were meant to be together!

Her family was upset with her. No, upset was too tame of a word. They were pissed.

"I can't believe she lied to us.."

"Well what do you expect from someone who keeps harrassing Ladybug?"

Alya flinched when she heard the whispers and rushed into Miss Buster's class. The entire class was there, all seated, all looking utterly miserable. Many of them looked as if they had been crying all night. A lot like she had.

"W-where's Miss Bustier?" Alya asked when she eyed the empty desk. Many of her classmates shot her glares, but didn't say anything about the interview last night. After all, they had no room to talk.

"She and Principal Damocles are with the school board now. We're getting a new teacher." Adrien was the one that spoke up. He looked utterly miserable. So unlike his usual self.

"Lila isn't coming back. She was pulled from school when her mother found out what happened." Alix muttered from her seat, arms crossed and shoulders hunched.

The class went quiet as they all internally contemplated how things had gotten like this. Their eyes focused on the door when it abruptly opened and Marinette came strolling in, carrying a box.

"Good morning everyone!" She said brightly, pretending not to notice the downcast expressions on their faces. She set the box on the teacher's desk before she turned towards them. "Oh? What's wrong everyone?"

".. Did you not watch the interview with Ladybug on 'Latest Buzz'?" Alya stared at Marinette, a bit dumbfounded by her friend's lack of awareness of the situation. She had been expecting Marinette to rush in with support and a fiery vengeance against those who had humiliated her best friend, maybe even a fresh pastry. But instead she was greeted with empty hands and a cheerful hello?

"Oh, well I haven't really had the time to watch much television. I mean, with my transfer papers, needing to plan out my new schedule with all of those new classes. Busy as a bee, that's me!" Marinette just beamed, giving Adrien a playful wink that had his stomach churning.

"Wait, transfering?" It was Rose that spoke up, her large eyes seeming impossibly large now. "Transfer what?"

"To my new school, of course." Marinette giggled and clasped her hands together. "I start on Monday."

"New school?!" Alya was on her feet and rushing towards Marinette. The others quickly followed, crowding around her. "What do you mean new school?! When did you ever say you were going to a new school?"

Marinette blinked, as if stunned, then tilted her head ever so slightly.

"I told you all last week, don't you remember?" Marinette tapped her lower lip, seeming to be wracking her brain before she abruptly snapped her fingers. "Oh! I forgot, you all were deep in conversation with Lila about her upcoming event with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightengale. You know, the one she said she'd be attending with Ladybug, since they're such good friends. Did she ever say how it went?"

All of the students shifted uneasily, suddenly seeming to refuse to meet her face.

Alix murmured something so barely audible, Marinette held a hand to her ear and leaned closer.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Lila was lying to us!" Alix snapped as her cheeks went a flaming red.

"About everything! She never knew Jagged Stone!" Juleka spat out in fury.

"Or Prince Ali!" Rose sniffled.

"And she wasn't friends with Ladybug? They were barely acquaintances!" Alya wailed out as tears welled up in her eyes.

But Marinette hardly reacted the way they were expecting. She just gave them a small smile and nodded.

"Oh, yeah. I know."

Alya sucked in a breath sharply.

"You knew..? But why did you never..?"

"Oh Alya, you silly forgetful thing. I told you the day she returned from her long 'trip', remember? I told you she was lying." Marinette gave Alya a smile that said 'oh you silly thing'. "But you told me that I should really check my sources. And I got tired of trying to bring up any lies, since that was always your response. So I decided to just stop. I mean, since you're such an inspiring, honest journalist you must double and triple check every source you come across and found every story to be true!"

Alya flinched and looked away, feeling the churning feeling in her gut again. No, the Ladyblog had been the only source for the stories. The. Only. One.

"And I'm sure all of you knew what you were doing! I mean, it makes sense; trusting the words of a complete stranger over someone you've known for a while now. Some of you since we were in diapers!" She focused her gaze on Nino and Kim, who had the grace to at least look ashamed.

"Marinette, you really should-" Adrien began, reaching out for the girl, but was cut off by her clapping her hands together.

"But it's alright! I decided that fighting with you all wasn't worth it, so I took Adrien's advice and took the high road! Don't bother exposing Lila, she isn't hurting anyone!" Marinette announced brightly, giving her hands a little wave.

The temperature in the classroom dropped by several degrees.

".. Adrien, she's kidding, right?" Nino glanced over at his friend, his eyes pleading for him to deny it all. But the sight of the blood draining from the model's face and the sweat starting to bead at his forehead told him everything he needed to know. "Dude.."

"How could you?! You knew this entire time and didn't even try to tell me?!" Alya rounded on Adrien, fury in her eyes.

"Now, now, don't get mad at Adrien. I'm sure he knew you all were going to do you research. Besides, it's not like this did anything bad for anyone." Marinette pressed a hand to her cheek, still grinning. "I mean, it's not like you all took her advice without doing any research. You didn't try the things she suggested without actually checking them out to be true, right? No one lost any scholarships or job opportunities. No one's relationships were ruined. No one was hurt."

The nauseous feeling spread to all of the class as the reality of everything caught up with them.

"I'm sure everything will go back to normal, right? I mean, I'm sure that that woman from the education bureau isn't here to fire Damocles and Bustier for their severe neglect in their duties. Expelling me with the most mediocre and shaky proof. Surely that's a school I should feel safe in! That I should be proud to be a part of. But alas, my preparations for my new school are already done, so oh well."

Marinette shrugged and adjusted her purse strap.

"Anyhow, I wish you all luck with the amazing things Lila has helped you to do! I know it must have been worth ignoring me and convincing me I was crazy. With all of the free time I've had, with you guys practically replacing me with Lila in the group, I've had tons of time to spend with my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!" Alya's eyes went owlishly wide as she gaped at Marinette. "But what about Adrien?!"

"Oh Alya, I fell out of love with Adrien forever ago." Marinette shook her head in an almost patronizing way that had Alya's cheeks burning with embarrassment. They didn't even pay attention to Adrien's noises of surprise. "I mean, you claimed I was jealous of Lila getting close to Adrien, that I should let the jealousy go. And you know what? You were right! So I decided Adrien wasn't worth the stress, the embarrassment.. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him straight. I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world! Goodness, did I learn my lesson!"

She giggled as if she found the entire thing amusing. She then beamed at the class.

"Well, ta-ta! I need to get back home and make sure everything is ready to go. I wish you all the best, I really do!"

They all watched, shellshocked as Marinette breezed out of the classroom like it was nothing. Like she wasn't leaving her friends, her school, her life behind. And they all would wonder exactly how badly they screwed up, if she could walk away do easily, without a care.

Permanent Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @ravennightingaleandavatempus @2sunchild2 @crazylittlemunchkin @bee-wrecker @souleateralicestein @loysydark @kceedraws @realrandomposts @alienjoyful

Salt Taglist: @virgil-is-a-cutie @sidessunnybumblebee @persephonebutkore @18-fandoms-unite-08 @suzen23smith @luciferge @theelventhgod @noirdots @space--butterflies @ghostglaceon @magicalfirebird @goggles-mcgee @chocolate1721 @minightrose @bookcrazybby @cupcakeandkisses @mewwitch @adrestar

#ml salt #miraculous salt #alya salt #lila salt #marinette deserves better

[peskygirl13]

MK SO-

I just got the Pokémon SWSH DLCs and I was wondering what it would be like for some legendary Pokémon to come to twst and cause some trouble(Legendarys I’d like to do ( you c an pick just one: Kyogre, Giratina, or Groudon)

If you can i want it to be just Diasomina!

This turned out longer than I expected and I got so mad with myself because I was almost done with writing this and I accidently deleted all my new work, so I had to start over from my last save point which is one of the reasons it took so long to post.

I’ve been binge playing the old Sinnoh games and rewatching the anime, so this was fun to write (despite me deleting my work). 

This will have references to the Pokémon Platinum game, so spoilers if you haven’t played the game and plan to. 

Hope you enjoy!

Malleus's favorite time of the day was night time. Night time was the best!

The world was at peace, it was quiet, everything was asleep, save for a few nocturnal creatures much like himself, he could hide from SIlver and Sebek and have some time to himself, and there were no students or humans who would see him and run away in terror.

But his favorite thing about night time was probably when he got to visit his favorite human, (Y/n).

Their situation was a bit odd, having appeared out of nowhere from a world full of creatures called Pokémon, but Malleus didn't care. They weren't afraid of him. After spending a lifetime of having people fear him due to his name, it was a nice change.

Malleus arrived at the Ramshackle dorm to find you already sitting outside, cleaning your Empoleon's feathers.

"Greetings, Child of Man." He greeted, happily walking up to you.

"Hey, Tsunotaro." You smiled, putting down Empoleon's brush to wave at him.

That was another thing Malleus adored about you. Even after finding out who he was, you still didn't fear him and continued calling him by that amusing nickname you gave him.

You both entered the dorm, along with Empoleon, and he was instantly greeted with the rest of your strange creatures. Luxray, Togekiss, Glaceon, Garchomp, and Lucario.

You headed over to the kitchen to make some tea while he got comfortable on the couch. Once he was seated, Garchomp laid its head on Malleus's lap, implying that it wanted scratches.

By the time you had returned with two mugs of steaming tea, all the other Pokémon had already gotten comfortable and most had fallen asleep.

You handed Malleus his mug before sitting down in your chair. Glaceon hopped up and curled up in your lap before falling back asleep.

After you both got comfortable, you began regaling Malleus with stories of your world.

Malleus loved hearing your stories.

From your gym battle challenges to your contests. Catching all your Pokémon and even receiving an egg from a woman named Cynthia that hatched into a Togepi that which layer evolved into your beloved Togekiss.

Malleus has never left the Valley of Thorns, except for school, so he enjoyed hearing about your travels. Your freedom to journey and see so many different places, never being tied down, he envied it.

“May I see your badges and ribbons again?” He asked.

“Sure.” You agreed, getting up to grab them.

At the movement, Glaceon, rather huffily, got up from your lap and moved to Malleus, curling up on his lap instead. He instantly started stroking her with one hand while the other continued scratching Garchomp. He only stopped when you handed him your badge and ribbon case.

He immediately opened them both and admired your impressive 7 badges and 5 sparkling ribbons. 

You had told him that even though you had collected the required number of ribbons, you were transported to Twisted Wonderland before you could compete in the Grand Festival. You also hadn’t yet had the chance to earn your 8th and final gym badge, which allowed you to challenge the Elite Four and the Sinnoh Champion. 

“They are very impressive, Child of Man.” Malleus complemented.

Even though there wasn’t a gym challenge or contests in Twisted Wonderland, Malleus could tell how much value each badge and ribbon you earned had.

“Thanks, Tsunotaro.” You beamed, positively preening at the complement. “Maybe when I find a way home you could come with me and have your own journey. There are a bunch of dragon type Pokémon I bet you’d like. Maybe your starter could be an Axew. Or a Dino. Maybe a Gible seeing how well you get along with Garchomp. There are also rock or electric types. OOH- Maybe a fairy type!”

Malleus tuned your rambling out. His head was both empty and racing.

Him? Go on a journey in another world? The idea was preposterous! Yet... also tempting.

Traveling around with no chains. Nobody knowing who he was, thus no one quivering at the sight of him. No overbearing, but well meaning, guards to coddle him. He liked this idea!

Unfortunately, he didn’t have long to dwell on the tempting daydream when Ramshakle’s door slammed open with a loud bang.

“WAKA-SAMA!!!”

Speak of the devil.

You and Malleus turned to the doorway to a disheveled and hysterical looking Sebek and a normal sleepy looking Silver.

“Sebek.” Malleus greeted, hiding his annoyance of being interrupted during his time with his Child of Man.

“Waka-sama, you mustn’t leave without telling us! What if something happens to y-”

The half-fae was cut off by and ice beam, freezing him solid. You and Malleus looked over at Glaceon who was angry about having her sleep disturbed for a third time. Now quite irritated and huffy, Glaceon angrily marched upstairs to try and get some sleep in your room.

“My apologies.” You jumped when Lilia appeared behind you without warning, hanging upside down as usual. “They ran off when I wasn’t looking.”

You looked back at the other Diasomnia residence. Silver had already fallen asleep, using Togekiss’s soft, feathery body as a pillow, while Sebek was slowly beginning to thaw out of the ice.

You wish you could say this is the weirdest thing to ever happen with them.

After having Lucario use force-palm and free Sebek, you all sat down near the fire.

(You left Silver be since he was already asleep.)

Sebek wanted to know what was so fascinating about you that Waka-sama would continuously come visit you. 

The only thing you could think of was telling them about your journey.

“After I won my seventh gym badge at Snowpoint, I had to meet my friend, Barry, at Lake Acuity and right after that I had to meet with Professor Rowan and Lucas at Lake Verity.”

“Why did you have to go to those lakes?” Lilia asked, genuinely curious as to what value they had.

“Uh, well-- mmh-- pthbbt.” You tried to think of a way to avoid that question, or at least dance your way around it, and the stuttering and raspberry blowing was obviously helping you be discreet in avoiding the question. 

“GLACE!!”

A loud yell echoed from upstairs thatw as loud enough to wake even Silver. You were momentarily grateful that you had been interrupted before realizing ‘Oh shit that’s my Pokémon.”

“Glaceon!” You yelled, bolting from your chair and rushing up the stairs with your Pokémon and the Diasomnia boys at your heels.

You opened your bedroom door with a loud bang and saw Glaceon in a defensive stance, hissing at the mirror with Grim looking frazzled.

“Fgaah! Minion, control your Pokémon! I was asleep and then it started shouting and tried to attack the mirror!” He yelled angrily, before stalking off to the living room to continue sleeping.

You sighed before looking over at the mirror. You held out your arm towards your Pokémon so they knew not to do anything yet. You inched closer to the mirror, pausing only for a second to pet Glaceon and calm her down a bit. You walked forward a few more steps until you were face-to-face with the mirror. 

Now that you were closer, you could see the shadow of something moving within the glass. You didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t Micky. You leaned a bit closer, trying to make out the figure--

“GIRATINA!!”

Everything went black.

~

The first thing you noticed when you could see again was that you were clearly not in your room. Or your dorm for that matter. 

Everything was weird. You weren’t sure of any other way to describe it other than weird.

Weird and familiar.

“The Reverse World.” You muttered, shocked by your sudden return to the feared Giratina’s playground. 

You didn’t have long to stay dumbfounded when you remembered the Legendary who lived in this world. You frantically looked around you and saw that your team and the boys were with you, which did nothing to curb your panic. Grim wasn’t with you all, so you assumed hoped that he was still at Ramshackle.

You first woke up your Pokémon. They freaked out for a second before realizing where they were, putting them all on guard. They carefully scanned their surroundings for anything they found threatening while you quickly crawled over to the boys, traying to shake them awake. 

“Get up. Guys, get up! We need to move!”

The Diasomnia boys hardly registered what was happening and where they were before you pulled them away. Your team created a barrier around you all as you lead the boys through the strange new world. All they could do was look around wildly.

“Careful, gravity gets weird here.” You warned them. 

True to your words, the piece of land you all were walking on started to curve in the air until you all started walking upside down. Even Lilia, who was used to hanging upside down, was a bit thrown off about this.

“What is this place?” Silver asked what everyone was thinking, knowing that you were the only one who could give any of them an answer.

“The Distortion World.” You explained. “Also known as the Reverse World. It’s kind of like the Underworld of my world.”

That explanation only provided them with more questions but went they entered a place that had these large bubbles floating around them they were quickly distracted.

“Hey,” Silver called, gaining everyone’s attention. “This thing has headmaster Crowley in it.”

Said bubble did have a picture of Crowley in his office, working late into the night. Huh. Who know he actually did anything.

Silver raised a hand towards the bubble. 

“No, don’t touch it!” You exclaimed. Unfortunately it was a second to late and the bubble popped at the slightest graze of Silver’s fingers.

The boys looked over to you at the sound of you yell, seeing your panicked expression.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” You order, stressing out each word. “Everything in this world effects the real world. If you aren’t careful you could kill someone through this place.

The boys looked positively alarmed.

“Will the headmaster be alright?”

You waved off their concern, continuing to lead the way. “He’ll be fine. Popping that bubble didn’t kill him, but it did feel like he was hit with a bowling ball.

“How do you know this? How do you know so much about this place, (Y/n).” Lilia asked, dead serious. 

You glance over your shoulder at them before sighing.

Guess it was time to come clean.

“There are some things that happened during my journey that I didn’t tell you guys about.” You confessed.

“While journeying through Sinnoh, I constantly ran into an organization called Team Galactic. Their leader, Cyrus, believed that the world was ugly and needed to be destroyed. His plan was to capture the legendary Pokémon, Palkia and Dialga, and the Lake Guardians, Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf. Those three were the reason I met Barry and Professor Rowan at the lakes, Lilia, to try and save the Lake Guardians from Team Galactic. Anyway, Cyrus claimed that he was going to create his own, perfect world using the powers of the legendary Pokémon. At least I think that was his plan. He talks like Shakespeare and I have a middle school education. Anyway, before he could create his ‘perfect world’ Giratina appeared and took Cyrus away to here, the Distortion World. This is Giratina’s domain.”

The boys were stunned into silence. They knew you were strong, but for you to have done all that as well as fighting overblots? They were truly impressed.

“What happened afterwards?” Malleus questioned, enthralled by your story.

“Cynthia, the current Sinnoh Champion, and I entered the Distortion World to save Cyrus. Unfortunately, he saw this place as his ideal world and didn’t want to leave. In the end, we had to use force and I beat him in a battle. And, after that, I had to face Giratina itself. But, I don’t know how, but before I could face it, the Dark Mirror called me to Twisted Wonderland.”

You stopped walking, taking a deep breath before turning to face the boys. 

“We need to find Giratina. Giratina’s the only Pokémon that can travel between worlds and its the only thing that can get us back to Night Raven.”

Your tone alone was enough to my the Diasomnia boys understand the severity of the situation.

“Human, if this creature is as powerful as you claim, then how do you expect to get it?” Sebek interrogated. 

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a purple ball with an ‘M’ on it, showing it the the boys.

“This is a master ball. I stole it from Cyrus’s base when I went to save the Lake Guardians. It can catch any Pokémon without fail. All we need to do is find Giratina.”

“Lucar!” 

“Luxray!”

You all turned to Lucario and Luxray who were growling in the same direction. Looking closely, you could see something coming at you all. Your team took their battle stances and sure enough, there was the Angel of Darkness itself, Giratina. 

Even Malleus had to admit, that creature was terrifying. 

It looked like a dragon and centipede mixed together, but it towered over everything, easily dwarfing them all.

You waisted no time.

“Empoleon, Hydro Cannon!” You ordered. Even Sebek had to admit that your authoritative tone was hard to ignore and resist, full of confidence and superiority. 

Empoleon listened without question, fearlessly attacking the towering giant.

“Lucario, Aura Sphere! Glaceon, Ice Beam! Luxray, Thunder! Garchomp, Dragon Rush!”

All your Pokémon attacked at once, hitting Giratina square on. The legendary screeched before firing a move of its own that your team narrowly avoided.

“Great job. Keep attacking!” You ordered shooing the boys out of Giratina’s firing range.

“What do we need to do to help, (Y/n)?” Malleus asked. He was already gripping his pen, ready to fight.

“Nothing. Just stay put and don’t move.” You ordered sternly. The boys were stunned.

“What?! (Y/n) we can help-” 

“I know you can help,” You cut off. “But I don’t need to defeat Giratina. I just need to distract it.”

You ran off before they could question what you meant, whistling for your Pokémon.

“Togekiss!” You called, jumping off the edge of the land and easily getting caught by your flying type, who flew you behind Giratina. 

You let your team get in one last group attack before throwing the master ball at Giratina. 

The legendary effortlessly went in and after a spectacular dive made by you and Togekiss, you caught the ball and returned to the boys.

The boys ran over to you as you climbed off Togekiss, looking at the ball in your hand.

“I can’t believe you actually caught it, human!” Sebek exclaimed, flabbergasted. 

“Thanks, Sebek.”

“So what now?” Silver asked. The group all turned to you expectedly and you rolled your eyes before turning around to the wide open space and releasing Giratina from the master ball. 

“Giratina,” You called, “Please take us back.”

Giratina stared down at you before letting out an echoing screech and lowing its head to your level.

Immediately understanding what it wanted you to do, you crawled onto its head before waving the boys over.

“C’mon. We its going to take us back.”

Hesitantly, the boys climbed on with your Pokémon and once everyone was on, Giratina soared through the air.

This was different from riding a broom or riding Togekiss, who was happily flying beside you all, but it was exhilarating at the same time.

Too soon for anyone’s tastes, Giratina slowed down to a stop before lowering itself down so that everyone could climb off. 

The place were Giratina dropped you all off was a small patch of land with two lakes on it. You and the boys could see your bedroom in one of the lakes, making you realize that you were looking through your bedroom mirror.

“Alright!” You cheered. “Let’s get back.” But before you could step through the reflection, Empoleon called out to you.

“Empoleon!”

“Huh? What is it, Empoleon?”

He was looking in the other lake, pointing at something. 

You, your team, and the boys looked through the refection and you couldn’t restrain the gasp that left your mouth.

You could see the Mesprit, the guardian of Lake Verity.

“That’s Mesprit, Lake Verity’s guardian!” You exclaimed, coming to several realizations at once. “That’s close to Twinleaf Town. I-I could go home!”

You turned to your team and the Diasomnia boys, your eyes sparking with both joy and a few unshed tears. “With Giratina we can go home and still stay in Twisted Wonderland!”

Mallues watched you with soft eyes. He had seen a side if you tonight that he had never seen before. Your courage, your confidence, your skill. He had these too, but yours stemmed from experience. This wasn’t something you were taught since you were born like him, these were abilities you learned through trial and error with your team. Something that he wanted.

With a new found determination, Malleus turned to his most trusted knights and friends.

“Lilia, Silver, Sebek,” He began, quickly gaining everyone's attention, “I have decided that until it is time for me to receive the crown from my grandmother, I want to travel (Y/n)’s world with a Pokémon of my own.”

Even you weren’t expecting that announcement.

“WHAT?! WAKA-SAMA ARE YOU FEELING WELL?!?!? WE MUST GET YOU TO AN INFIMERORY!!”

“I’m fine, Sebek. And I’m not joking.”

“WHAAAAAAAT?!?! YOU, HUMAN, YOU HAVE GIVEN WAKA-SAMA THIS DANGEROUS IDEA!!”

“I think its a great idea.”

“MASTER LILIA?!?!”

“zzzzz”

You couldn’t help snorting at the scene in front of you. A rather calm Malleus simply being unmovable about his choice of coming home with you, a hysterical Sebek trying to talk him out of it, an impish looking Lilia who actually supported Malleus’s idea, and a snoozing silver, who could still sleep effortlessly despite the chaos surrounding him.

You leaned up against Empoleon’s belly, him and all your other Pokémon already lying down, knowing that this was going to take a while. Even Giratina was curled up!

But, You thought, watching the group was a soft smile, you know that no matter how much you wanted to go home, you would've missed this. And this, your friends and NRC, was something that you never wanted to lose.

Bonus:

After sorting everything out with Crowley, you returned to your world to reconcile with your friends and your mom. It took some explaining, but bringing Grim back with you as well as Malleus with his magic and horns was enough to convince everyone what happened to you.

Afterwards, you were able to compete in the Grand Festival. You didn’t end up winning, however you did make it to the finals. Your opponent, Dawn, had only beaten you by a few points.

The Diasomnia gang, as well as Grim, the Adeuce combo, and the Pomefiore Trio were all present to see this and couldn’t have been prouder.

Once the Grand Festival had come to a close, you headed over to Sunnyshore City and won your 8th and final Gym Badge, permitting you to challenge the Elite Four and Cynthia.

The Pomefiore Trio didn’t watch these challenges, but the other did. 

Their nerves were through the roof when you finally faced Cynthia. And when your Garchomp miraculously out sped her Garchomp with the finishing move nobody cheered louder. 

In the end, you took Malleus to the place where you caught Garchomp back when he was still a Gible and caught Malleus his own, whom he unironically named ‘Gargoyle.’ 

Malleus did have to return to the Valley of Thorns, but not without you promising that the upcoming summer would be the start of his own Pokémon Journey. 

I wrote most of this forgetting about Grim, so sorry he doesn’t have a bigger role or more screen time.

Fun story; I got in trouble for writing down my ideas for this at work even though I did it while the store was dead and I’ve worked there for nearly two years and have either written something or drawn something almost every shift I have. Litterally no one but the manager to caught me cares. 

And, just to irritate me more (whether she was aware of it or not), said manager takes my writings and decides to read them and then proceeds to put them back in the wrong order before lecturing me.

So, yeah, that was fun.

#ask #twst x pokemon au #pokemon #twisted wonderland au #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x pokemon #diasomnia #diasomnia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #lilia vanrouge #silver #pokemon platinum #pokemon sinnoh

[leviiattacks]

teacher!levi and teacher!reader headcanons please 🥺

author note :: i expected for this to be better but idk,,, um, you know maybe it’s just me who wishes i executed it better but i wrote this at 3am that’s my excuse. ANYWAY I HOPE U ENJOY ANON :-))) i know it’s not headcanons but here!! also my ask box is always open to feel free to drop by !! 

word count :: 5.4k (after i had to severely cut the word count down because my tumblr wouldn’t let me post the longer version with more detail,,,,)

honestly you’ve never fit in well with the math teachers in particular but you’re still amicable with most

however, there’s one unbearable member of the group that happens to want to play jump rope with your patience constantly

and that person just so happens to be mr ackerman

every single staff meeting the both of you sit furthest away from each other whilst silently exchanging bitter glares

maybe it’s his stony disposition or his unrealistically harsh grading system that makes him seem so off putting to you.

or perhaps it’s your soft and gentle approach to teaching that drives him up a wall

but to make matters simple, the two of you have never got along. nearly everything he says you disagree with and nearly everything you say he has to rebuke.

every outlandish suggestion of his at meetings is met with firm disapproval from you and every time you bring up wanting to provide the children with more time for extracurricular activities he sneers in annoyance

today he’s proposing a plan to set exams as soon as possible

???

you wonder if he’s even thinking with his head attached to his neck because it’ll be impossible for the children to handle all of the content in the form of an exam paper so soon

the workload he’s been pushing onto his math class has become far too ridiculous for your liking and you want to put an end to the man’s reign of terror

it just so happens your classes are scheduled in the blocks next to each other meaning he always sees your students an hour before you do

it’s got to the point where your pupils trudge into english class completely EXHAUSTED

the other day a boy fainted because of lack of sleep and now mr ackerman has the audacity to put forward the exam dates???

“we need to instill these children with discipline. taking them by surprise will give them a much needed reality check.”

you groan at his speech and raise a hand

“may i interject?”

professor ackerman’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek the irritation is painted on his face but he nods although he seems reluctant

“these children do not need standardized exams to-”

“would you like for me to completely scrap exams from the curriculum?” without even allowing for you to present your argument he has to cut you off with a mocking grin

“levi, i think-”

“that's mr ackerman to you.”

his blunt correction has you rolling your eyes because YES!! you understand the two of you aren’t exactly the best of friends but he doesn’t even want to be on a first name basis with a colleague of two years??

his pettiness has your blood boiling in searing displeasure

“you have to stop going so hard on these children.”

he’s shuffling through some paperwork not even batting an eye in your direction.

“personally, we aren’t hard enough but of course the english teacher has trouble understanding that.”

the jab he makes at your job only causes the anger inside of you to bubble up again

why does teaching english have ANYTHING to do with this???

“you teach math yet you can’t calculate the reasoning behind your subpar love life. do not insult english.”

personal insults are your favourite to throw at him because he always gets so riled up

and actually for once you have the answer to a math question.

the reason why his love life is so uneventful has to be because of this :

his personality + his obnoxious humour + his looks = a good looking but undatable man

his jaw clenches and the grip he has on the stack of papers in his hands strengthens

ok,, that is kinda hot but that is not relevant at all

you’re able to make out miss ral one of the other math teachers make a move to speak and god you fight the urge to punch her every day because she’s always gushing about mr ackerman

seeing as you don’t want to punch her or anyone for that matter you turn to give her a “if you speak right now i swear to god i will lose my shit” look

she gets the memo incredibly quickly because her mouth closes shut immediately

mr ackerman takes a sip out of the cup of black tea next to him. “i would appreciate if you just sat back and let me do what’s best.”

“children fainting in my lesson is not what’s best.” your rebuttal catches him off guard and he seems more than a little surprised

“wait- fainted??”

you eyes flick over to mr zacharias, you had told him to pass the message on but the way he’s sheepishly looking at the floor avoiding your eyes clearly tells you all you have to know

“looks like someone forgot to pass the message onto you but the other day falco fainted in english.”

“is he- is he okay?? did he say why?”

eyebrows raising you’re quite surprised to see any sort of reaction from him let alone concern

“he stayed up all night completing your homework.”

lips pressing together into a fine line it almost looks as if he’s guilty

“i’ll talk to him about it later.” his voice is back to its usually plain tone and any trace of his previous worry has been masked.

an awkward silence follows. he coughs choosing to not continue the discussion about exams.

principal smith takes the hint and moves on to discuss planned school trips

HOORAH victory!!!

yet another day where you’ve saved your students

“who is fallacy and why are they pathetic?” a few snorts and giggles are heard around the class and you force yourself to laugh at falco's miserable attempt at a joke

you’ve noticed falco’s been cracking more jokes around his new seat mate gabi.

she’s small but feisty always willing to debate and she’s really a joy to teach although she can get a little bit aggressive with the others at times

honestly it’s quite obvious that falco has a fat crush on her. well, actually it’s been obvious from the moment she step foot into your class

and... you couldn’t just ignore the way falco looked at her could you?? and there was an empty space next to him too sooooo, what harm would there be in placing the two together?

it seems as if your attempt at getting the both of them to talk has worked. gabi and falco compete desperately for the top position in the class and are two of the best students you’ve had in a while

also after the day falco fainted in class gabi has been noticeably nicer. things like asking if he’s drank water or how much he’s slept

you have a small inkling that she may like him back

and the budding romance is adorable to you because you too once had childhood crushes

it feels rather nostalgic to see the two interact

but today you notice the two aren’t in

in fact, you notice half of the class isn’t?

“where are the others?” your question sends a jolt through one of your present students but he stays silent choosing to pretend to clean his glasses as a distraction

crossing your arms over your chest you walk over towards his desk

“udo, you can tell me what it is.”

“professor ackerman said not to tell.” udo looks petrified and you’re just kinda wondering what in the hell is going on

lucky for you his resolve is thin and he quickly cracks under pressure

“okay. you can’t say i told.”

nodding in agreement he looks around making sure no one else hears what exactly it is he’s about to disclose

“he’s kept some people back to talk to them about something top secret. i don’t know what but he asked for the students who like you.”

at that you feel a little bitter because if he asked for the student who liked you why on earth is half the class still here??

but oh well, you guess you can’t please them all

“oh no, no, no. you’ve got it wrong. we all wanted to stay but he didn’t let us.”

udo looks genuine so you let it slide

either way it doesn’t really matter as long as the majority prefer you over that sick and twisted math teacher you’re alright

“he does know he’s cut into my class time right?”

“falco told him that and he whispered something about how you’re bothersome.”

you???? bothersome???

WHEN HE’S THE ONE BOTHERING EVERYONE?/!:£:!/)

you don’t even look back as you walk out frankly furious at what’s happened

english is important

ACTUALLY!!!

ENGLISH > MATH

you will stand by that till the day you die

your knuckle meets with the wooden surface of your sworn enemy’s classroom door and almost automatically you’re able to hear the shuffle of chairs and padding of numerous footsteps approach

the door swings open and you step aside to allow your missing students to pass through

they look nervous but one look at your reassuring smile lets them ease up and relax

“well.” a voice behind you snaps “look who paid me a visit.”

“we’re talking about this later.”

you try your best to sound serious but you don’t know if you pull it off as well as he does because he just ends up giving you a disappointed sort of look

“y/n. stick to being the good cop it suits you better.”

“we are not on first name basis. you said it yourself.” is your narrowed comeback

finally turning to face him you’re surprised when your eyes travel to the triangle of space behind him and you’re able to get a peek of what looks to be a list of books on his whiteboard

pride and prejudice

wuthering heights

jane eyre

ville-

before you’re able to read the rest he moves in front of your line of vision

he’s got quite the selection but,, when did he of all the people on this planet start showing any interest in literature?

“the books on the board what’s that about?”

your inquiry flies over his head and he shuts the door behind him completely

his face doesn’t move and if it does it only shows the slightest hint of confusion

“what books are you talking about?” he replies and don’t know why your knees feel a little weak when he looks you straight in the eyes

snap.

out.

of.

it.

“i saw books on the board.”

“you saw wrong.” he barks back and he’s getting agitated now

maybe you did imagine it...

and you have to get back to teach your class so okay fair enough you’ll let it go because you do know you have a habit of daydreaming randomly

however that doesn’t stop you from giving him another skeptical look before you leave because there is NO WAY you imagined it, but it is you and it really could be a possibility

the click clack of your heels against the floor sound out as you remove yourself from the conversation

you assume he’s returned to his classroom

that’s why it catches you by surprise when you hear a hesitant voice behind you

“there were no books on the board.”

you don’t know why he has to tell you that again because it only makes himself look all the more suspicious

“but if they were a list of book recommendations then what would you recommend i read?”

the question is peculiar coming from him

are you in an alternate universe?

is this a dream?

are you talking to a clone?

a robot?

because this can NOT be the same man you’ve been working with for two years

maybe he’s having a change of heart?

but that sounds unlikely

maybe he’s planning to read the book and somehow with that big brain of his formulate a calculation to score it a measly two out of ten

yeah. that sounds more likely.

nevertheless, you still want to give him a recommendation, maybe he’ll find out he’s into books this way

“you should totally check out pride and prejudice :-)”

for once you’re smiling at him and he doesn’t know what to do because the change is sudden but he doesn’t say a word after that

instead he retreats into his classroom

god.

now you’re sure he’s just asked to form a stupid calculation or whatever the hell it is math teachers do.

“he likes you.” hange has a shit eating grin on their face and you can’t help but narrow your eyes and sigh in exasperation

no he does not like you but you don’t try to correct hange because you know they’re firm in their stupid belief

“would you ever date him?” hange fiddles with the last of their potato salad absentmindedly waiting on your reply

the question literally has you choking on your lunch

“i would rather fight for survival in the wilderness. thank you for asking.”

“oh come on... he’s got a thing for you. you read romance novels all the time you should be able to tell he does.”

“yeah and that thing he has for me is wanting to shove my head onto a pitchfork. you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” shoving a piece of pasta into your mouth you sigh dreamily at the taste. it serves as a momentary distraction

you get one lunch break and you are not!!!! in the mood to talk about him whilst you’re on that break

he’s attractive

and you have to admit he looks handsome in his crisp white button up and pristine black suit AND his cologne is really...

okay, you are digressing from the point

none of what you just said means anything!!!

at surface level he seems like a catch but it’s what’s on the inside that matters and he said he finds english stupid

that’s more than enough of a reason to dislike the guy?

he thinks stuff like the pythagorean theorem and y = mx+c are entertaining

y = mx+c ??? over literature???

you read books to teach and you read books for your own enjoyment

it would be a complete travesty if you had a crush on a book hater

and levi ackerman most certainly can be classed as a book hater.

a pessimistic book hater if the specifics are needed

“OH! SORRY Y/N GOTTA BLAST MOB’S OVER THERE!!!!!”

you don’t even get the chance to say goodbye because hange makes an eager run towards moblit

hange and moblit are inseparable, both are the shared heads of the science department and since he’s been off on sick leave recently you understand why hange’s rushed off to greet him

you wish you had a teacher friend like that but the sad truth is you’re pretty much a lone wolf. the other english teachers are wrinkly old pickles and talk about antiques or quiz shows :-(

“this seat free?”

no way.

it’s not him

it can't be

what does he even want??

“um, well yeah it is free b-.”

“good.” he takes the seat without you even inviting him and now you’re stuck in an awkward situation you didn’t even expect to be in today

you're about to burst into tears because is it too much to ask for a peaceful lunch period???

mr ackerman clears his throat and places a book in the center of the table. “pride and prejudice although not my cup of tea was... mildly enjoyable.”

wait...

is this him...

admitting defeat!??

HELLLOOOOO

you are over the moon right now because you know he really had to have enjoyed it a lot and is simply choosing to withhold that information for his own reputation

“i’m happy to hear you took a liking to it.” you’re munching away at your pasta a little more upbeat now

“okay but the start of the book assuming all single men want a wife? no, all i want is a good night’s rest for once. also mrs bennet needs to calm down, elizabeth can marry who the hell she wa-”

“someone’s a little passionate aren’t they?” you giggle into your glass of water and you catch mr ackerman frowning

“i liked it okay.”

“i thought you said it was only mildly enjoyable just now?” grinning and looking at him through your lashes his cheeks become red

you guess he’s angry or something but that’s the usual with him

“yeah, whatever. i just wanted to play fair and apologise.”

“apologise?” oh wow, now your interest has really peaked because never in the past two years has he apologised to ANYONE

not even principal smith for the one time he flipped out and nearly cursed at a mouthy student at parent's evening

grimacing a little before he does it he finally speaks again.

“english is important. i’m sorry.”

your lips tug up into a bright smile

well???

this is a great interaction??

an apology coming out of levi ackerman of all people

“apology accepted! i’m glad to know you liked the book but now that we’re a tad bit friendlier with each other i wanted to ask for a favour.” your eyes gleam and he swears he can see specks of shining stars in them

“...okay, it depends.”

he’s warming up to you so he considers it

“please don’t cut into my lesson time levi.” his name slips out of your mouth but it’s so natural you don’t even care to correct yourself

“i’m sorry about that too y/n.” your name now ventures out of his mouth too as it tests the waters

wordlessly the two of you agree to first name basis

BUT more important matters are at hand such as how he’s issued you yet another apology?

this is satire surely

because why is he so willing all of a sudden...?

well, that's the power of pride and prejudice, wow you’re really thanking the heavens for blessing this world with jane austen’s existence

jane austen. a woman capable of remarkable things, she's even managed to make an unmoving book hater somehow become a lover

poking at your tuna pasta you and levi are now quiet.

“soooooo, any opinions on mr wickham?” you ask the question hoping to initiate a longer conversation than before

and luckily for you your attempt works

SUCCESS!!

levi pinches the bridge of his nose and the creases on his forehead show he clearly isn't particularly fond of wickham

“don’t get me started he’s so indescribably annoying?”

ok, ok, ok

you don’t even know how it happens but you and levi really hit it off

weeks have passed and you and him have even become lunch buddies

it was so shocking to moblit at first that he dropped his lunch on the floor when he saw you and levi enthusiastically exchanging words

then again, two mr wickham haters are bound to get along

you’re seriously wondering how the two of you ever survived as mortal enemies

yeah, you still disagree a lot but you’re getting there!!

sometimes he helps you out when your computer stops running and in exchange you’re willing to offer him book recommendations

he swears he doesn't want any recommendations from you but you know he enjoys it

yesterday he got microsoft excel out and showed you how useful it really was and you went :O because you never really understood the need for it at all

you’re a little bit of a granny when it comes to tech...

and just today at lunch you recommended he checks some plays out but his nose wrinkled at the mention of shakespeare so the both of you went through a long list of dramas and eventually you were able to interest him in j.b. priestely's an inspector calls

another victory for you!!

anyway, right now the two of you are sitting inside of the staff room seeing as it's that time of the month again.

time for the monthly staff meeting

it's the first one you've had since you and levi became friends and you're worried the both of you will be back at it butting heads

wait, are you friends?

well, you wouldn't mind if that were the case but to be honest you would like to be a little bit more than friends mayb-

no!!! no!!! no!!! stupid thought!!! you retract that statement immediately

no you do not want to be more than friends with levi ackerman, yes he's lovely to a degree but you are not going to elaborate on why it's a terrible idea to fancy him

okay wait, let's elaborate for the sake of elaborating

he's surprisingly charming and wittier than you thought he would be. the fun conversations are making your days now and to be honest it is nice to have someone to spend lunch with (hange usually skips out on lunch all together to tinker in the science labs and set up experiments)

wait... weren't you suppose to explain why you don't want to get with him?

you're an idiot and you don't notice how dumb you really are until everyone just kinda gawks at the both of you because it's so odd seeing you in the same room let alone within a three feet radius of each other.

fuck, you completely forgot you and levi sat at opposite ends of the room

principal smith enters and even he looks visibly shocked at the change in seats but he doesn't mention it and you're grateful he doesn't because you didn't purposefully sit here it just happened on accident

erwin turns in your direction and smiles

"would you like to start off with your proposition for extracurriculars?"

nodding your head you begin passionately.

"well, i'd like to say i don't think we offer the children enough. we have spare funding so why not open another club? cooking perhaps? i understand many of you may not understand the importance of teaching them how to cook but-"

"do you have an obsession for setting these children up for failure?" tensing up you notice it's levi who's spoke and he doesn't sound remotely happy

blinking once and then twice he realizes his tone isn't the best and he mutters an apology "sorry, go ahead i'll add in when you're done."

whispers travel through the room straight away

"did he just say sorry?"

"actually why are those two sitting together?"

"do you think they're you know...?"

miss ral who's sat a little further away is the next person to disagree with you

"i understand the intention but would it not be better to let them have extra math lessons?"

"oh, so you can get a pay rise?" the comeback you make is aggressive and dripping in displeasure

she sits up face burning up

"no- no- absolutely not i take pleasure in teaching all of my classes." flustered and trying to hide her nerves she takes a sip out of her water bottle

you want to pour all of the water out onto that ginger hair of hers

the reason why her interjection is getting on your nerves is due to the fact you overheard her and another one of the math teachers plan to bring this specific point up

and you are well aware that her reasoning behind it has nothing to do with the children

she couldn't care less about them

"do not make me repeat what you and mr bozado were chit chatting about earlier today."

the threat is enough to silence her and just when you think you've handled the situation levi has to give his input

"let's ignore petra's motivations and talk about how teaching these kids how to cook means nothing if they have no tradable skills to offer in the real world." levi's not looking at you. he's either too annoyed or too preoccupied with his thought process

at that moment you feel naive, you thought maybe he would try to understand your opinion seeing as he's been spending so much time with you as of recent but that looks to not be the case

murmurs of agreement fill the room at his statement and you feel pathetic

it's practically the entire room against you now

genuinely how is it these people can manage to be such spoiled sports about everything?

"recently, i asked all of my classes to write an essay about school stress. maybe you won't understand my views because you haven't read their pieces but they need a fucking break." the expletive flies out of your mouth without warning and you flush in embarrassment

that

was

not

professional.

"oh god, i'm sorry i got worked up i shouldn't hav-" fumbling over all of your words you feel even more mortified

the principal raises his hand signalling you stop and you clamp your mouth shut. you're in huge trouble that's for sure

but,,, in spite of the clear difference in opinion between you and the other teachers, soft and well spoken principal smith says the unthinkable

"i have the final say and i believe you are coming from a good place after reading your student's work. how would you feel about running the new cooking club?"

scanning his face for a second you can tell his question is legitimate and the wave of relief that washes over you has never felt better than ever

sighing contently you agree and as the topic of conversation shifts to something else entirely you sense your heart rate picking up

you feel like you're back to square one with levi.

it's yet another day where you’ve saved your students and you should be feeling overjoyed but if anything you feel a little deflated

you wish he would have come around and understood but you can't teach and old dog new tricks

again, the feeling of disappointment wears you down

two weeks have passed since then and your favourite time of year has come. it’s spring term meaning MACBETH

the english curriculum includes plays and it just so happens that today is your first lesson covering shakespeare

and you LOVE shakespeare

something about all the intricate foreshadowing always has you excited

but some children are missing

and it’s way too many to blame on sickness

so you wait for a few minutes but it's consistently radio silent

the last time this happened the culprit had been levi and he promised to never cut into your lesson time

but you could count on him to break his promise after the fiasco that was the monthly meeting

is he back to hating you and hating literature?

well, that's his loss if that's the case!! and no!! you will not upset yourself over the loss of the budding friendship

sighing you get to your feet making a beeline to the door but gabi and falco rush to stop you

awkward chuckles activated they wave their hands to get your attention “OH NO, they’ll only be five minutes!!” their sentence comes out as one big blur of words but you manage to understand them

now you’re doubtful because you know falco and gabi would usually ignore you and allow you to walk out

giving them a knowing glance the pair look between each other

their eyes are clearly communicating and asking if it’s alright to tell you

“i promise i won’t be mad.” you sigh

perhaps if you reassure them they’ll be more likely to spill the beans

“it’s not that you... i don't know. you might be upset.” gabi isn't one to care much for other's feelings so you're slightly anxious even though you shouldn't be

but you’re a tough nut to crack. so, absolutely not. you are not going to upset yourself over whatever it is

“i won’t be hurt. i’ve suffered through reading some of the most emotional classics to ever exist.” hitting your chest with your fist you wince a little because you hit yourself a little too hard

falco’s seems to be too shy to come out with it so gabi takes the lead as she normally does

“some students were talking badly about you so mr ackerman kept them behind to have a talk.”

oh.

yeah, actually you are a teeny weeny bit disheartened because you think you’re nice to all of your pupils but it’s nothing too bad, not everyone will like you

“if that’s all i’ll go get them. thank you for letting me know.” giving them two thumbs up you leave the class immediately

levi is probably scolding them to hell and back

not because he cares for you but because he hates disrespect in general

as you’re nearing the open door of his classroom you hear something you never thought would emerge from levi’s room

“final question. why does mr darcy say he doesn’t want to dance with elizabeth at first?” oh yeah, that’s levi’s voice for sure

an english question?

is he quizzing them on pride and prejudice?

you wait hoping your students don't fail you and are able to provide the correct answer.

“ummm... she’s not pretty enough!!”

levi hums “you answered all five questions right. do you all know why?”

you can’t see the children’s faces but they have to be confused if there’s no immediate response

he grunts in agitation “because your english teacher works hard to teach you every single day. have some respect because that teacher of yours is one in a million.”

taking your bottom lip in between your teeth you fight the urge to smile

“do you know how at every single staff meeting there’s only ever one teacher fighting for you all and what you want. i can assure you that teacher isn’t me, but i believe you can all guess who i'm talking about.”

your heart does a back flip in your chest and you feel jittery but in that really fuzzy good way

like that super duper fuzzy and hazy good way

he’s really very sweet for saying all of this and you're now smiling like an idiot

one pupil takes a chance to make amends “we’re sorry mr ackerman.”

but before levi can give them a response you clap your hands together and walk in unannounced 

“apology accepted, now if you want to all be forgiven forever please return to class and answer the questions on the board!” directing them to the door with your hands you make sure they're conscious fo the fact you aren't mad at them

still, never have you seen them so eager to run off to analyze macbeth. you guess levi's deathly stare is the cause for it

holding back a laugh you clear your throat after the last student leaves

“thank you levi :-)”

it’s quiet for a second and you think to ask him about what has been gnawing at your mind

“you didn’t have to do that. you disagreed with me before so... why did you?”

“i say this at every meeting and you never listen but children need to be disciplined.” his unchangeable tone is unwelcoming

again it’s awkwardly silent and you sorta regret even coming over to see what was going on because now you and levi are just having an uncomfortable staring contest

then he scratches the back of his neck and heaves a heavy breath

“it may also be because i really fucking like you, but i look like an idiot saying that when we’ve been at each other's necks for two years.”

oh.

the sudden and brutally honest confession has the wind knocked out of you, you’re stunned

and then you get hit by it too. the realization hits you like rain hits umbrellas on stormy days. you like him too.

you like him for his witty sense of humour, his pure honesty and his hatred for mr wickham only serves as a bonus

yes, you have your differences. many of them. but you like him

he’s no longer a book hater and so by default you can fancy him. he goes against none of your guidelines essentially

you like him, he likes you back?’//’.;

[SCREAMS]

“well, what do you say? will you be this mr darcy's elizabeth bennet?” hearing the cheesy pickup line from him of all people has the butterflies in your stomach exploding in delight 

“you sound weird, where's the grumpy math teacher from before?" now you and him are simply shamelessly flirting but HEY!! you have no complaints at all

he scoffs at your sarcastic question

"do you want the equation for a two dimensional heart on a graph beca-"

"can i just kiss you?"

wOWIE are you being bold today y/n???

thankfully you don't have to wait for his answer. levi’s right hand pulls your face in and he slams his lips against yours. he gives your waist a squeeze and you hold him tighter by the neck in response. he has a way of somehow making it all feel gentle and relaxed in the same breath

and... you know what? maybe you should have recommended pride and prejudice to him earlier

but oh well.

what matters the most right now is that you're kissing your mr darcy!!

and he’s kissing his elizabeth bennet

:-)

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi headcanons #levi drabbles #levi scenario #teacher levi #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #leviiattacks #attack on titan x reader #levi fluff #modern levi #modern levi ackerman

[p-artsypants]

A Gift from Mr. Blanc

Marinette's worst nightmares were of Chat Blanc. But that's all they were: nightmares. Until one day where in the stone cold light of day, Chat Blanc walked into the classroom, with a gift in hand. "This will make you love me again, My Lady."

Ao3 | FF.net

Everyone is on this Chat Blanc train, so I bought a ticket and got a window seat. 

--

“Yes, Timestreamer, find me the best Akuma ever created!” Shadowmoth raised a manic fist as the images appeared before him. 

The woman who was once Nathalie Sancoeur stood next to him, now transformed into an Akuma with thick glasses, which almost looked like VR goggles. 

In a fit of artist’s block, Gabriel Agreste had vented that he had run out of ideas for Akuma. He had to keep going, and the villains couldn’t slack less Ladybug and Chat Noir get the upper hand. 

To which Nathalie had said, “well, you don’t need to reinvent the wheel.” 

She had meant it to be cheeky, but he took inspiration from it in a whole new way. Why invent a new villain when one from a different time is sure to work? Timetagger, an Akuma from the future, had seemed to almost win. Perhaps there were more like him out there. 

He only needed someone to see the timelines so he could pick his champion. 

So here they were, scanning through endless time streams, looking at massive successes, and massive failures. There really was no telling which one would do the job, but unless Timestreamer’s Akuma was taken or, heaven forbid, the Butterfly was taken, they could send villain after villain after villain. 

Yes, this was a good plan! 

“That one!” Shadowmoth pointed, the stark white catching his gaze. 

“That one?” Timestreamer asked, feeling unease looking into his soulless blue eyes. 

“That has to be Chat Noir’s akumatized form. He’s perfect.” 

Following orders, Timestreamer summoned the Akuma forward. 

From the static images appeared a grainy figure, slowly solidifying into a solid white boy. His expression was one of confusion and disorientation.

“Chat Blanc, I am Shadowmoth,” he began. 

Immediately, Chat Blanc snarled. “You! You monster!” And he leapt. 

Suffice to say, neither Timestreamer or Shadowmoth were prepared for a full on fight this early in the conversation. 

Shadowmoth did have training in fighting, and successfully blocked the incoming swipe at his throat with his arm. However, the claws cut right through his suit and into his flesh, making him cry out in pain. 

The next swipe hit true, and knocked the butterfly Miraculous from its place on his collar. 

Chat Blanc then plucked the Peacock from his lapel while Gabriel Agreste tried to put pressure on his grievous wounds. 

“Why?” Asked Gabriel, “don’t you know I made you? Don’t you know I can give you everything you want?” 

Chat Blanc didn’t respond, only snapped the goggles off of a shell shocked Timestreamer. He then touched the black butterfly with his claw, and it crumbled into dust. 

Nathalie ran to Gabriel and looked at his wounds. “You need to go to a hospital.” 

“No!” He protested, pushing her away. “Answer me, boy! You’re easily the most powerful Akuma ever made. Once you get the Miraculous of Ladybug and this timeline’s Chat Noir, we can make the ultimate wish! Whatever your heart’s desire, it’s yours!” He reached a hand out to the boy. 

Chat Blanc, who Gabriel knew as the exuberant and emotional Chat Noir, just looked at him with a sharp, emotionless stare. 

“You already took everything from me, Father. This is my one chance to get things back to where they are supposed to be.” 

“Adrien?” 

The gaze didn’t change, but he did raise an eyebrow. “In my timeline you knew. You knew, and you still hurt me. You hurt her. You turned me, and you forced me to kill. You left me alone in that world for months. Left me to mourn. Cursed me to this form—“ he snarled. “That can’t starve, that can’t sleep, that can’t thirst or drown—“ a tear fell down his cheek. “You left  me in a prison where I couldn’t die, and would continue to suffer because of your mistakes.” He gave a hint of a bitter smile. “Does that answer your question, old man?” 

Maybe it was just the blood loss, but Gabriel felt some remorse. “I’m sorry, son. Give me back the Butterfly, and I’ll set you free.” 

“Not a chance. Ladybug will fix me. And when I give her these, she’ll love me again. And I’ll have all the family I ever need.” With that, he summoned his baton to break through the window, and launched out into Paris. 

Gabriel laid still on the ground, holding his chest with one hand while Nathalie gripped his wrist with the other. 

“I…what am I going to do?” 

“Well, you know Adrien has the ring—“ 

“No doubt Chat Blanc will tell him everything before we can get to him. I don’t think that’s an option anymore.” 

“Then…what would you like to do?” 

He spent a long time just breathing and thinking. 

Choosing. 

“I guess, apologize. And then hope that I haven’t done enough damage to lose the only family I have left.” 

“Maybe, if he is Chat Noir, and you explain the truth to him…he’ll tell Ladybug. Maybe she’d help.” 

“I doubt she’d do anything to help me, after all I’ve done.” He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “I could just bleed out here. Save him the pain.” 

“I won’t let you do that, Sir. As upset Adrien will be, he still loves you.” 

“But for how long?” 

“I think you should live and find out.” 

—

Chat Blanc had never been so happy. He should be upset, angry, sobbing even, but he wasn’t. 

He was getting his second chance. Paris was full, alive, teeming with traffic and swearing and smoking and everything foul that wasn’t there in his wastelands. 

Hawkmoth was gone, and he was on his way to Marinette. With these, she had to love him, she just had to.

Francois DuPont never looked so pretty. The windows showed bored expressions of dozens of students. 

Students that were alive and not submerged under water. 

He dropped down in the courtyard, letting muscle memory take him up the stairs to his old classroom. The door was closed, but not locked. 

Did he knock? Or did he just walk in? It had been so long…did he introduce himself? Did he apologize for interrupting? 

He decided to forgo knocking, and pushed the door open on his own. 

All eyes turned to look at him, but his attention was only on her. 

Though he did get a glimpse of his own horrified face. 

“Chat Noir?” The teacher asked. 

“No.” He shook his head. “Not anymore.” He never stopped looking right at Marinette.

“I must be dreaming,” the girl in question said aloud. “I must have fallen asleep, and now I’m having a nightmare.” Tears were filling her eyes as her voice crumbled. “Please tell me you’re a nightmare, Chat.” 

“No, My Lady. I’m real.” Did she know him from somewhere? Or was she just assuming he was an akumatized Chat Noir? “But this shouldn’t be a nightmare, Marinette.” His steps were slow and soft, trying not to spook her. “I’m your dream come true. Because it’s over now, and we can be together.” 

She stood abruptly, smacking her knees on the desk and almost tumbling. “What are you talking about?” 

He placed the Miraculous on the desk. “It’s over now. I won. Hawkmoth is no more, and there’s nothing that can hurt us. This will make you love me again!” 

“Holy shit…” Said Alya. 

Marinette just stared at them, and then at Chat. “How—?” 

“He brought me here. Somehow, an Akuma I guess. He plucked me out of my time, and brought me here. This is my chance to start again, you know.” He grabbed her wrist. “Now our love won’t ruin the world! We can be happy again, My Lady! We can be happy and nothing will tear us apart!” 

Adrien, who had up until very recently, by reveal of a certain nickname, thought that Marinette was only just Marinette, grabbed Chat Blanc and yanked him back, forcing him to let go of Marinette. 

“Don’t touch her!” He snapped. 

“And you—“ Chat Blanc grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. “A little liar with too much self preservation! Why didn’t you act sooner?! Why couldn’t you save her?!” 

Adrien clawed at the hand on his throat. “I don’t—know what the hell—you’re talking about!” 

“Don’t play stupid, Adrien! It’s not going to work on me, and you know that!” 

His voice was just a whisper now, as he attempted to meet Chat Blanc’s gaze. “Whatever, man. But you think outing her is smart? You think that’ll make her like you?” 

Chat Blanc crushed harder, suffocating him. “It doesn’t matter with Hawkmoth out of the way! And once I kill you, there will be no competition! She’ll love me for sure!” 

Marinette had stashed the Miraculous in her purse once Chat Blanc had turned his back. She was going to attempt to talk him down, but at his threat on Adrien’s life, she realized he was beyond talking. 

“Tikki, Spots on!” 

Chat Blanc whirled back around, only to get a fist to the face. 

Adrien fell on the floor, gasping. 

“Are you alright?” She asked, helping him up.

He rubbed his neck sheepishly as he nodded. He knew she was Marinette, but the mask still turned his legs to jelly. 

“Why do you protect him, Ladybug? Don’t you know you can just be happy with me?” 

Marinette pushed Adrien behind her. “I might be able to be happy with my Chat Noir, but never with you. I love Adrien, and I’ll fight to protect him, even if he doesn’t love me back.” Though it was a brave declaration, she still blushed. 

“Ugh, don’t you get it? I am him!” 

“What?” 

“I’m Adrien! Adrien is Chat Noir! We’re supposed to be together! And we were! We were happy, Marinette! And then—and then you told me you didn’t love me anymore. You almost got akumatized over that…but I saved you.” He snarled. “But he kept us apart. My father knew who I was, and he turned me into this…” 

“Wait,” Adrien rasped. “Father turned you into…an akuma?” 

“Because he’s Hawkmoth, Adrien. He always has been. Mother is alive, in a coma, in the basement. And he never let you see her, because he doesn’t trust you.” 

“Shut up!” Ladybug shouted. 

“Even after he knew who I was, he still hit me. He beat me, Adrien, because he doesn’t love us!” 

Adrien held a hand over his face, willing his sobs to stay silent. 

“We’re just a pawn for him. But…I can make it better. Let me destroy you, and everything will stop hurting. I’ll take care of Marinette, I promise!” 

“That’s enough!” Ladybug lashed out and snagged his bell, ripped it from his throat, and smashed it on the floor. 

Then she caught the butterfly as it emerged, purified it, and let it go. But she didn’t call for a cure, not yet. 

Chat Noir, sans bell, glanced around the room in confusion. “Ladybug? What’s going on? Why are we here? Where’s Hawkmoth?” 

She met him with tear streaked cheeks. “You’re in the wrong timeline, Chat Noir.” 

His eyes flicked to Adrien, who was clearly shell shocked. “That would make…some sense.” 

“You were akumatized, and our Hawkmoth brought you here…probably to recruit you.” 

“Did I hurt anyone?” 

“You beat him. You beat Hawkmoth.” 

“And you tried to take my place,” Adrien hissed, showing his bruised throat. 

Chat Noir gripped his hair fiercely. “Oh crap! Oh crap crap crap! I’m so sorry! He’ll be all better once you do the cure, right Bug?” 

“Yeah. Physically, at least…but you did say some things that will hurt for a long time.” 

“I didn’t mean any of it! I was an Akuma, they lie and say all sorts of things—“ 

“You told me about Father. And mother.” 

“Oh…” he sighed. “Unfortunately, that’s too fresh in my mind to be a lie. I saw mom. He wanted to use the Miraculous to bring her back, but he was so unwilling to listen to me, to even think about working with us—that’s how it happened. He got me.” 

“I’m so sorry, Kitty.” Ladybug lamented. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

He shook his head. “It’s over now. If I defeated him, then you don’t have to be subjected to it,” he told Adrien. “I don’t mind taking one for the team.” 

“Did you kill him?” Adrien asked. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Even if he did, casting cure would fix it.” Said Ladybug. “There might be hope for a happy ending.” 

Chat Noir took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “My Lady, will you send me back? I have to see her again. My Marinette. I have to see her and make up with her.” 

Ladybug patted his cheek fondly. “Knowing me, she probably still loves you. But something happened to make her put distance between you.” 

“You’ll be happy together, right?” He asked, pouting. 

Adrien slipped an arm around her waist and held her. “I think we’ll manage.” 

Ladybug hugged Chat briefly. “Thank you. For all your trauma and suffering, you helped us.” 

“You also revealed both of our identities to the class, but that’s the kind of mistake I would make as an Akuma…” Adrien winced. 

Chat Noir looked at all the shocked and concerned faces around him. “Wow, look at all these comforting, understanding, and loyal friends you have. Where’s Lila?” 

“Out sick today,” provided Sabrina. 

“Perfect! Don’t ever ever tell her what happened here. She’s a liar and would tell our identities in a heartbeat for a chance for fame.” 

“Not a problem, Kitty Cat,” said Alya, with a wink. “Some of us are pretty good secret keepers.” 

“You knew!?” Adrien cried, with betrayal in his voice. 

Alya winced. “Ah, yeah…”

“Adrien.” Ladybug took his face and held it with trembling hands. “My kitty, my partner, my best friend, what I’m about to tell you is going to suck and you’re going to hate it, and that’s why I haven’t told you.”

“I’ve already had a lot of bad news dropped on me today, lay it on me.” 

She glanced at the rest of the class and then Chat Noir. “Let me send him home, and then we’ll talk in privacy.” 

He nodded, not really fond of how much the class had already learned about him today. 

Ladybug threw her yo-yo up in the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!” 

In a wave of fluttering red, Chat Noir was gone, and so were the bruises on Adrien’s neck. 

“Spots off.” 

Now, the class started whispering. Up until that moment, shock held them in silence. After all, it's not everyday you find out your classmates are superheroes. 

“Miss Bustier, are you okay if we leave for a while?”

The teacher stammered a second, unfreezing from her complete and total shock. “I think it would be a crime to make you stay here today.”

Marinette smiled gratefully, before taking Adrien’s hand and leading him out into the hall. He was silent, rightfully so, and Marinette could only be happy there was no chance of him getting akumatized. 

Finally, they took a seat on a bench, and waited for the other to speak. 

“I…didn’t think this was how our identities would be revealed,” he breathed. 

“I always wanted to tell you.” Marinette insisted, “even though I said otherwise. Tikki and Master Fu were so adamant that I not tell a soul.” 

“So why does Alya know?”

She rested a hand on his. “I’ll get to that. But first…Chat Blanc.” 

Adrien sat attentive and quiet, holding his accusations for later. 

“It started about three months ago, when I gave you that Beret.” 

“Beret? The one from the Brazilian fan club?”

“Yeah…except it wasn’t. It was from me. Originally, I left it in your room, with my name on it. My real name. A little while after I left, Bunnix came to me, and explained that she needed my help. She took me into her burrow, and led me to the future…the future where you were akumatized.” 

“As Chat Blanc.”

“Yes.”

“That same akuma, that same Chat Noir?”

“I assume so. The moon was destroyed, the city flooded. You were all alone, everyone was gone.” 

“Where…where was that Ladybug?” 

She hesitated to say it, but admitted, “I found her underwater…cataclysmed.” 

“No…I wouldn’t have—“ 

“I know, Adrien. Chat Blanc was upset about it too. He cried. He wanted my Miraculous to make the wish and fix it.” 

“Sounds like an Akuma alright,” he said bitterly. 

“At the time, all I knew was that you knew my identity, and you said that our love destroyed the world. So…I assumed that you became akumatized by finding out who I was…and that the beret had something to do with it. So I erased my name.” 

“Oh…but Chat Blanc said he was akumatized because of my parents.” 

“I didn’t know that back then. I wish I had. As it stood, I was certain an identity reveal would end up with an Akuma.” 

“I understand your reasoning…but what about Alya?” 

She sighed, the guilt toiling around inside her. “That wasn’t…it was a spur of the moment thing. I was back into a corner and people were getting really worried about me. Worried and nosey…and so I told Alya. Rena Rouge.” 

“Ah. I see.” 

“I should have told you. I should have told you so you could have told someone. It’s not fair to think I was the only one that needed a confident.” 

“If I had to pick someone that wasn’t you, it would have been Nino. So I get it. Really, I do.” 

Tears welled up in her eyes regardless. He was hurting so badly, but what could she even do to help? 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologize.” 

“Yes! Yes I do! Adrien, you’re my partner. Yes, keeping secrets can keep us safe for a while, but eventually we’ll run out of trust and then we’ll be in danger again. I don’t want to lose you!” 

He gave her a little smile. “I might be upset, but you aren’t going to lose me. I promise.” 

She squeezed his hand. “No more secrets. We train as guardians together. I’ll tell you all the auxiliary heroes, and all the formulas and—“ she stopped, blushing. 

“What?” 

“Ugh…I have to tell you something, since I said no more secrets.” 

“Is it bad?” 

“…no?” 

He turned his hand to squeeze her back. “Okay. Well then, let’s hear it.” 

She looked away, too nervous to look at his face. “Gah! This is just as hard as it’s always been!” 

“I’m not going to judge you.” 

“I know! I know!” 

Pretend this is just Chat. She goaded herself. 

“I…I’m in…love with you?” She squeaked out. There. The deed was done. She shyly turned to look at him. 

Wide, sparkling eyes full of tears, but a big smile on his face. “You mean it? You said as much to Chat Blanc, but I didn’t know for sure…”  

“Ugh, right. That.” She nodded. “You were the boy I kept turning…well, you down for. I’m sorry…” 

“I’m not!” He chirped. “Marinette, if anyone was going to have a crush on me as Adrien, I’m so glad it’s you. You really know me! You’re special to me, and I always considered you as a friend.” 

She sighed, hearing the magic words. “As I’ve heard.” 

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

She blushed again. “It’s just…whenever we had a moment, or I tried to do something special for you, you always remind me that you feel…nothing for me.” 

“Wait, what? That’s what you got out of that?” 

“That you want me as a friend and just a friend?” 

He actually laughed at her and pulled her into a hug. “Marinette, I thought you were nervous around me because you were uncomfortable. I said that stuff to let you know I treasured our friendship. I love you so so much, My Lady. I was deeply in love with Ladybug, and completely in denial with Marinette.” 

“Can confirm!” Shouted Plagg from inside his jacket. 

“So having you be the same? I’m…I’m so happy!” He hugged her tightly. “Today has thrown a lot of bad things at me, and I’m so worried about what comes next. But with you, I’m sure I’ll be okay.” He pulled away slightly. “You…will stay with me for whatever happens, right? I know Hawkmoth being my dad is kind of a deal breaker…” 

Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up into him, kissing him right on the mouth. 

He stiffened briefly, before melting against her and pulling her tighter into the hug. 

The kiss was perfect, not in execution or performance, but because of the love they felt. Adrien nipped at her lip, and Marinette hummed as she twined her fingers into his hair. 

They pulled away begrudgingly. 

“You and me against the world, right Kitty?” 

“You know exactly what to say to make my heart swoon, my lady love.” 

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

“Kiss me and I’ll get over it.” 

“I’m serious, Kitty.” She touched his cheek. “I knew it was going to hurt, and I foolishly and cowardly put it off, hoping it would go away.” 

“Marinette, from what you said…it wasn’t just painful for me. It scared you, didn’t it? You said…when Chat Blanc appeared, that you thought you were having a nightmare. Do you dream of him?” 

“Sometimes.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault, Adrien.” 

He considered his next move, and decided to scoop her up into his lap. “So, here’s my idea. If you have another nightmare about him, you call me, and I’ll be there in a jiffy.” 

“And do what?” 

“Hold you. Kiss you. Reassure you. Cuddle with you until you fall asleep. Whatever you need.” 

She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, bugaboo.” 

Silence lapsed between for a while, as they just sat together, enjoying the warmth of their bodies, and the open air between them. 

Marinette sighed. “We should probably go confront your father.” 

“Yeah. We should…” 

“Could…I offer you a reward if we go through with it?” 

“What could possibly motivate me?” 

“Once we’re done, and everything is put away…we can find a random, secluded rooftop and…make out for a while.” 

Adrien stood, with Marinette still in his arms. “You know how to motivate a man.” 

“I’ll be with you every step of the way. Just think about later.” 

“One peck for the road?” 

“One.” 

Adrien held her tightly before dipping her and pressing a sinful, toe-curling kiss to her lips. When he finished a few minutes later, she breathlessly huffed, “that was not a peck.” 

“No, but I need the strength.” 

“Somehow, it’s a lot harder to stay mad at you. You can put me down now.” 

“Nah. Plagg, Claws out!” 

“Tikki, Spots on!” 

The closer they got to the mansion, the faster Chat’s mood tanked. All the surface level happy feelings had bubbled away, and now he was filled with dread and apprehension. 

“I…I don’t want to send my dad to jail,” he said, as they landed inside the walls. 

“I know Kitty. I can do the talking.” 

“You’re so good at it, Princess.” 

She knocked twice, but didn’t wait for an answer before entering. 

It didn’t matter. Gabriel and Nathalie were sitting in the lobby, waiting, as it appeared. 

“Hello son,” said Gabriel, with not a trace of malice in his voice. 

Chat halted, paling considerably. “You know?” 

“Chat Blanc revealed as much. What did he tell you?” 

“He said that…mom was still alive. You wanted the Miraculous to wake her up.” 

“That’s right. But…” he sighed. “Can I humble myself and ask for your help, Ladybug? Can you look at her? Can you see if there’s any hope?” 

“I would love to.”

#miraculous #ml #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #adrien agreste #chat blanc #ladynoir #identity reveal

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight: [REDACTED] “Oh Goddamnit. DANNY!”

Prompt Creator: @mr-lancers-english-class

Even Danny’s school projects cause ghostly issues and Lancer really should have seen this coming.

Alright fine, Lancer knew this was a bad idea. He knew it. And yet... here they all are, with each of his students doing their self-chosen presentations. And as he should have expected, Every. Single. One. has been on Phantom. Sure at least there’s been some variety. Star’s piece on his fashion and how that reflects on his personality and the era he died was actually fairly interesting (if it wasn’t for the fact that Phantom spiced up his jumpsuit with t-shirts and whatnot sometimes then this would have been a very boring one). Kwan also surprised him some, apparently he’s spent the past year or so sneaking photos of Phantom eating and did a piece on Phantom’s rather peculiar food tastes (who dips their pickles in milkshakes???) as well as effectively providing proof for the existence of ectoplasmic food (there’s no way any earth apples are neon green on the inside). Dash’s wasn’t even correctly calculated, trying to figure out how far Phantom could throw footballs based on his known strength and if he could kill someone by tackling them (disturbingly the answer -regardless of Dash’s bad math- was decidedly yes. Daniel seemed particularly disturbed). And Paulina’s was quite literally a badly written self-insert ship fan fic; the added drawings of what their child would look like only made it worse (Daniel left, not that Lancer could blame him. Lancer’s also glad for the ghost fight interrupting the presentation). Emilie’s was... disturbingly about ghost hunger and purposed the thesis that Phantom, for the good of the town, should eat the aggressor ghosts (he actually had to cut her off for getting too graphic).

But the single most interesting thing was that a ghost apparently caught wind of this and literally Every. Single. Presentation so far had words that were permanently replaced with [REDACTED], which, needless to say, caused some chaos when Samantha gave the very first presentation.

-

Lancer clicked his pen, crossing his legs and resting the evaluation sheet on his thigh, “alright, Samantha. Feel free to start whenever you please, though soon would be preferred”, by ‘preferred’ he had meant required, but no need to be mean. He chooses to ignore the goth teen's eyeroll.

Predictably the projected screen doesn’t work when she opens her file so Lancer has to spend ten minutes fiddling with the outdated tech that they wouldn’t give the school funding to replace. Eventually, he does get it up and running showing Ms. Manson’s title screen reading ‘Phantom And Hate Crimes Against Blood Blossoms’. Lancer’s positive ‘blood blossoms’ are a type of flower, figures she would do something nature-focused. She’d make for a great herbalist or botanist someday. He does catch Daniel and Tucker giving her ‘death glares’, as the kids call it, though; Samatha doesn’t look any less smug. The second page has what he thinks was supposed to be a detailed drawing of a flower but it’s severely pixilated, almost as if it been blurred; Samantha looks visibly upset so he’s going to assume something when wrong with the file or pasting format. He’s not marking on artistic capabilities though, so effort is effort there.

She quickly clicks to the next page, where the actual writing of the assignment is and looks decidedly pissed; Lancer even quirks an eyebrow since at least two-thirds of the words are a very bold noticeable [REDACTED]. Lancer watches her yank out her physical copy while glaring with murderous intent at Daniel -Lancer will have to dock him marks if he messed with another student's project- before looking at the physical copy in bafflement for a few seconds. Half the class shrieking when she drops the papers and basically launches herself over the desks at Daniel, “OH YOU LITTLE FUCKER!!!! HOW THE FUCK!”.

Lancer’s sighs and stands, “language, Ms. Manson”, moving to pick up the papers and quirking an eyebrow over them looking the same. Sighing again and eyeing Daniel, who’s being choked -or throttled perhaps?- by Samantha yet is grinning innocently. “Daniel, messing with other students' work is against student policy”, sighing yet again, “and I’ll let Star go while Samantha fixes her document”, summoning up the blonde while glaring at Daniel. Some days that boy was more trouble than he was worth but he was also insanely bright and had a heart of gold. Lancer knows he’ll do good things someday, and that’s why he still tries with him.

Half the class is snickering or laughing now and Star is very clearly trying not to laugh as she sets up.

However, as soon as it opens up the class is met with a very familiar sight. [REDACTED] litters every single page; he checked. And Star’s physical copy was in the same state.

Kwan blinks, “okay seriously, what is going on”, before scrambling to grab out his own physical copy; the rest of the class going wide-eyed and following suit. Lancer just puts his head in his hands and sighs very audibly while shaking his head. Why could nothing go right? Sighing again as the class erupts into noise.

“Mines all weird too!”.

“Same here!”.

“Okay there is no way Fenturd messed up everyone’s work”.

“And I actually tried on mine! It was about the merits of Phantom getting armour!”.

“Oh damn do we just get auto hundreds now? Please please please say yes”.

“Oh damn, Phantom would actually look awesome in armour”.

“I know right”.

“Can we just skip class entirely now?”.

“Oh my Zone a ghost messed with or work”.

“Holy Shit”.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! You don’t think Phantom did do you?”.

“Why the heck would he do that? How would he even know??????”.

“Oh I hope Phantom was inside my computer. That would be so hot”.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe someone told him or he overheard shit. He’s a ghost, he can be invisible. Heck, he could be here, right now, invisible”.

“Invisible and laughing at us”.

“No! No! Hold up! What if he doesn’t want us writing about him or maybe someone wrote some sus shit and he just nerfed us all for good measure”.

“That would mean Phantom totally read my stuff, aw Hell yeah man. That was some boss shit”,

Lancer sighs and stands up, “alright that’s enough”, sighing again because why did this have to happen to him, “and I apologies for blaming you earlier, Daniel”.

Samantha snaps, “oh no, I still blame him”, and continues glaring at the teen. Lancer suspects Samantha would continue blaming the boy even if it was firmly proven he wasn’t at fault.

Addressing the class again, “here’s what we’re going to do, you’re going to read off what of your projects you actually can and allude to the rest. Please reframe from repeating what you know was there beforehand as I’d rather not have whatever ghost responsible -Phantom or otherwise- come here pissed off”, glaring at few students who look slightly encouraged rather than discouraged by that prospect, “anyone who does will receive automatic zeroes”, ah and the encouraged looks have deflated. Good. Gesturing at Star, “you’re already up here, so do continue”. Better to not bring the clearly infuriated Samantha back to the front until she’s had some time to calm down.

Star nods and clears her throat, thankfully everyone quiets down. “O-okay, well, um”, gesturing at the screen, “I did my piece on Phantom’s sense of fashion and the cover image was one with him dressed in one of the Spook Sense stores meme shirts....”.

-

Lancer shakes away the memory, he honestly slightly regrets giving this project. But regardless right now is Daniel’s turn and Lancer is honestly slightly fearful of what his file is going to look like. Thankfully all their files were saved to his computer before the [REDACTED] debacle, so no one could go back in and edit theirs to add [REDACTED]’s for an easy grade. Lancer’s still not exactly sure how he’s supposed to mark assignments that were anywhere from one-fifth to one-third [REDACTED]. That word will be burned into his head after this grading period.

Lancer moves to find the boys file, but stares when clicking it crashes the computer. Not once. Not twice. But thrice. The fourth time rebooting the computer he inspects the file and is a bit dumbfounded, “Daniel, your entire file’s corrupted. The file type has even been changed to redacted, which I’m fairly sure, isn’t actually any possible file designation”. Everyone’s silent for a bit before bursting out into laughter.

“Just what the Zone did you write, Danny!”.

“Oh we so have to know what this is now”.

“Danny has the forbidden knowledge! We haft found him! The keeper of things forbidden and Ghostly! Haza!”.

“Ha! It was probably so lame that Phantom wanted to save him the embarrassment”.

Lancer sighs, but Daniel gestures Tucker up, “hey Tuck, feel like trying to fix the file”. Tucker chuckles and walks up, though apparently glaring at the boy. Based on Daniel’s smirk he finds this quite amusing.

Tucker does manage to make the file viewable at least. Lancer nods and leans back in his seat, “thank you, Mr. Foley”, while the file loads on screen.

Tucker sits back down with a head shake while Daniel stands at the front and gestures to the screen, “aight, as you can see from my not redacted title-”, that earns a couple laughs, “I did mine on Phantom’s portfolio of crime. Every single time our dear Phantom broke ghost law. Including such wonderful things as, that time he caused not one, not two, not even three, but five, prison breaks in one day. Or that time he invalidated a Observant spectator duel by bringing an inflatable sword”. Samantha slams a hand on her desk, “IT IS YOUR FAULT YOU DICK!”.

Lancer has some serious questions as Daniel clicks for the next page, the entire class going dead silent as a screen comprising of almost nothing but the word [REDACTED] shows. Lancer sighs very audibly. Eventually the class starts up again.

“Fenton... actually has forbidden knowledge”.

“If it wasn’t for the teacher computer saved thing I’d think he was fucking with us”.

“I mean... he is a Fenton, right?”.

“Okay the fact that this entire presentation is on ghost crimes is concerning alone. But they’re forbidden ghost crimes at that”.

“Shit I wanted the tea. Damnit”.

“Better question, how does Danny know?”.

Daniel clicking the button to go forward is very audible. And, Chicken Soup For The Soul, every single page is [REDACTED] to the point of being completely and utterly unintelligible. There are occasional lines pointing out how Phantom apparently ate confetti at a ghosts third wedding (which is apparently illegal for some reason) or that time he beat someone up with a violin that had a pie inside it (Lancer can see this one, Lancer himself has smacked a ghost with stranger).  Literally the only photo that isn’t blurred beyond recognition is one of Phantom in a prison uniform (Paulina was very vocal about liking men in uniform here). Lancer is absolutely positive the end of his conclusion ‘[REDACTED] are a bunch of [REDACTED]’ is an insult.

Samantha chucks a boot at his smirking face, “YOU IDIOT. Of course they were going to block you from talking about them. Ancients, I can’t believe you”. Tucker’s busy laughing into his hand.

“Oh my Zone, they know too”.

“They’re really earning that weirdo trio title, huh”.

Daniel snickers as he sits back down, “they broke into my room and wrecked that epic puzzle I was working on. They shoulda seen this shit coming. Literally”. Tucker snorts, “they probably did but couldn’t do anything else about it. They can’t stop you and your endless bullshit”.

“Damn fucking straight”.

Lancer isn’t going to claim to know what exactly they’re talking about but apparently Daniel effectively orchestrated this entire fiasco just to annoy some ghost. Lancer is honestly more impressed than disturbed. A for effort but an A- for making everyone's work nigh unusable.

End.

Prompt: For the last project of their senior year in high school, Mr. Lancer is letting his class do presentations on literally whatever topic they want. He is very, /very/ sure that this is going to go poorly, but that's a problem for later...

#Danny Phantom #phandom #phic phight #phic phight 2021 #danny #mr. lancer #sam #star #tucker #basically danny's entire english class #comedy #school projects #danny's a little shit #messing with the observants from afar #my writing #fan fic #phan phic #have a fic suck my dick #phantomphangphucker #gothmoth #thetribalmoth

[angstyaches]

Space

From 🍄 anon after I basically begged for angsty requests:

hello flick, if you want to write hunger with little to no comfort,,,,, consider this,,,, shayne,,,, not letting himself eat back when he still lived with madeline and watson,,, and not telling charlie,,, because he doesn’t want to worry him,,,,

This is closer to a whump fic than a hurt/comfort fic, so be warned. Also, just a reminder, these OCs are 19-20ish at the time. Shayne gets a little comfort, just not the right kind.

CW: emotional whump, disordered eating, low self-esteem, hunger with pain and affecting cognitive function, little/no comfort, psychological abuse.

___

He woke for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, groaning as he took in the appearance of his room. He sluggishly rolled over, frowning in the direction of the little clock that sat on top of his set of drawers.

5:35am. An acceptable time to give up on sleep.

He sat up slowly, trying to gauge how much he could move without making himself dizzy. He rubbed his eyes, the stray ends of sleep disappearing and leaving a stabbing pain in the pit of his stomach. He pressed a hand over the pain, frowning when he felt his stomach rumble under his palm.

Maybe that’s what had been keeping him from sleeping.

Are you hungry, Shayne?

A shiver ripped up his spine. He stood up, shaking his head to chase out the phantom voice; he couldn’t deal with the Madelyn in his head, especially not while she was also in the house with him.

He tried to remember what he’d eaten recently. He’d been shaky after school yesterday, and he’d tried to eat a cup of instant noodles, but he’d only managed a few mouthfuls before starting to feel nauseous, and the cup had ended up in the bin along with most of its contents. Before that, he’d had a granola bar for breakfast, and before that –

No, wait, the granola bar hadn’t been yesterday. It’d been the day before that. It was definitely that week, for sure…

He swallowed, wondering if he should have breakfast today. It was always a gamble; he never knew when Watson or Madelyn would expect him to work, and it was always much messier and more painful when he had food in his system.

Not to mention that food always came with a side helping of judgment in this house.

He took his time getting ready, though there was little to relish about the morning. He crossed the dark hallway to the bathroom, took his usual lukewarm shower and brushed his teeth, towel-dried his hair, put on the grey-and-navy uniform that would keep him relatively invisible for most of the day.

In this house, though, it was impossible to stay invisible.

Madelyn was in the hallway as he made his way downstairs with his backpack. His stomach dropped, her gaze making the hairs on his forearms prickle. He quickly tugged his sleeves down from his elbows to hide the goosebumps that sprung up.

“Morning, Mads.”

“Good morning,” she snapped, eyeing him up and down as he stood, silent, on the last step, gripping the handrail. She had piercing amber eyes and dark, silky hair that fell to her waist when loose. That morning, she’d twisted it into an elaborate structure at the nape of her neck.

Shayne shrugged his backpack a little higher on his shoulder. “Do… Do you need me for anything?”

She scoffed at that, eyes turning away from him. “If it were possible to prove yourself useful this morning, don’t you think I would have already informed you?”

He nodded. “Sure. Sorry.”

“Could you tell me what time you’ll be home after school today?”

Shayne swallowed, only hesitating for a second. “Five o’clock. As soon as the bus gets in…”

“You have no… plans?”

He shook his head. There was no way he’d let Charlie rope him into hanging out at the Mulberry house, not while he was feeling so weak and drained. Even worse, he’d probably be offered dinner if he showed up there.

At just the vague thought of food, his stomach shifted and let off a low growl. He quickly crossed his arms, shuffling his feet and clearing his throat at the same time. With her heightened senses, Madelyn surely heard it, but she didn’t react beyond narrowing her glare.

“Nothing?” she asked. “We’ve seen so little of you recently.”

Shayne shook his head and cleared his throat again. “Do you need me for something then?”

“Full of questions this morning, hmm?” Madelyn shook her head and took a step towards the kitchen. “Just be home when you say you’re going to be home. Otherwise, you know… I’ll have to send Watson out to find you again.”

A chill rolled down Shayne’s back as he watched her step out of his way. It was vague, but it was a threat, not just to him, but to Charlie and his parents. He bit into his cheek, hot streaks of anger flashing through his head and tightening the muscles in his chest.

Madelyn raised her eyebrows. She didn’t quite gesture towards the front door, but it felt like an instruction to leave. He stormed past her and out the front door, letting it slam behind himself in what instantly felt like the pettiest form of rebellion ever.

He spun around and lifted both his middle fingers towards the door; Madelyn had several supernatural abilities, but seeing through doors wasn’t one of them.

“Fuck you,” he mouthed silently, with enough force that he might as well have screamed it. He took several steps backwards before he turned to face the road, proceeding like a zombie beneath the rain-dampened trees.

His hands felt funny. He lifted them slightly and frowned when he found he couldn’t hold them steady. He crossed his arms over his chest and held himself, taking gulps of air into his lungs to try to calm himself.

But even when he managed to tame the fiery, hateful anger, he was still shaking. The centre of his stomach ached as waves of hunger weaved back and forth inside of him. As the rusted sign for the bus stop came into view, its edges seemed to blur, and the road tipped to the side.

Shayne freed one hand from under his own arm and pressed it to his mouth, wondering for a second if he was going to be sick. Instead, it was just a shallow burp that rolled up, churning his stomach and making it growl violently.

“Mm. Fuck,” he whispered to himself. He glanced down the empty road, checking that the bus wasn’t arriving just yet. He held a hand over his stomach, pushing against it and rubbing harshly, hoping to coax the growls out before he was surrounded by other students. He realised he’d forgotten to fill his water bottle before leaving the house, so he couldn’t even get some liquid into his stomach to shut it up. He’d need to remember to go to the water fountain before his first class.

As the bus crested the hill, he shoved his hands in his pockets, staring down at the ground. He always wondered what he looked like to the students looking out the bus windows. He’d never figured out how to hold himself in a way that seemed natural.

The bus driver didn’t even bother to look at him, which was normal. Shayne glared at a first-year student who was staring at him while whispering something to his friend. He was used to hearing himself being talked about, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. He already hated that he took up physical space; he could barely stand the idea that he also took up residence in people’s minds.

He walked until he reached the seat where Charlie was sitting, staring down at some loose sheets covered in notes while wearing in-ear headphones. He looked up after a few seconds, breaking into an easy smile.

Fuck. That smile. It usually pissed him off so much that he would just look away whenever it popped up on Charlie’s face, but for some reason, Shayne found it hard not to stare this morning.

“You want to sit?” Charlie asked, pulling out his headphones.

Shayne swallowed, unable to bring himself to nod. Charlie’s backpack was in the seat next to him. It would need to be moved if he was going to sit down.

You take up so much fucking space –

Without even waiting for an answer, Charlie pulled the backpack towards himself, propping it on his lap.

The hollow space inside of Shayne throbbed, ached.

You're like a black hole.

"Go ahead," Charlie urged him, nodding to the free seat.

Shayne swayed a bit, though he could pass it off as though the motion of the bus had caused it. He held in a groan and sat down next to Charlie. He shoved his backpack down between his feet. He was tempted to just let his head rest against the back of the seat in front of him. The bus had only been in motion for a few minutes, but he was already light-headed again.

A flutter of panic hit his chest as he realised Charlie had said something else, and he’d missed it.

“What?” he asked, slumping back in his seat.

“I said, ‘how are you?’” Charlie shrugged, still wearing that smile. “You okay?”

Shayne nodded briskly, glad that Charlie provided him with an adjective that he could lie and agree to. It saved him having to fabricate a lie himself.

“You?” he asked, feeling secure in the knowledge that anyone – including Charlie – could easily be distracted if they were coaxed into talking about themselves.

“Yeah, I’m…” Charlie sighed, glancing at his notes. “I’m half-dead this morning. Just hoping my coffee kicks in before second class, for the history test.”

As a fun kick to the ribs when he was already down, Shayne had forgotten about the test. He’d also likely forgotten every word of their history textbook. His found it hard to concentrate these days, and everything that passed in front of his face seemed to dissolve somewhere between his eyeballs and his brain.

“Hey, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Fuck. Charlie had wasted no time in swinging the focus back towards Shayne.

Shayne felt his heart start to pound, cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. He hated this. He wished he’d found somewhere else to sit. He missed the days when nobody gave a shit, nobody asked him questions like how he was or if he was feeling okay. He’d blacked out in art class the previous term, and nobody had even noticed; they’d all just assumed he’d put his head down to go to sleep.

And yet, Charlie… Charlie saw him.

He wondered what would happen if he told him the truth. If he said that he was scared and ashamed to eat anything, that he was so hungry his stomach hurt, that this was still so much better than the alternatives...

Shayne glared at the back of the seat in front of him, hating himself for even considering burdening Charlie with all of that. Charlie was staring, still waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t exactly look worried yet. One advantage of being a miserable bastard was that Shayne didn’t have to put up an exhausting, cheerful façade.

“Kind of tired,” he said finally.

“Okay." Charlie frowned. "Well, I’m going to read over my notes a few more times, but if you’re really tired, I’ve been told my shoulder makes a good pillow.”

Shayne blinked with genuine incomprehension. The words didn’t stick in his brain long enough for him to dissect them; all he could really focus on was trying to breathe in time with the hunger pangs fluctuating in his stomach. He could usually keep it relatively quiet that way, but being this close to Charlie was making him even more anxious than usual.

“What?” he mumbled.

Charlie’s eyelashes fluttered as he broke into another smile, his gaze flicking away from Shayne’s. “Um, you can sleep on my shoulder, if you want.”

Shayne scoffed under his breath.

“Or don’t,” Charlie laughed, turning his attention towards his notes. “Whatever.”

Shayne’s gaze wandered towards the paper in Charlie’s hands, skimming over the headings that he’d jotted down in his annoyingly pretty handwriting. The topics sounded vaguely familiar, like he remembered them from a movie he hadn’t watched since he was a toddler. Like he’d last heard them from the other side of a thick veil.

His stomach pinched, and he realised he was hugging his waist again in an attempt to ease the pain and muffle any unwanted noise. He swallowed harshly, glancing from Charlie’s notes to Charlie’s shoulder and remembering his offer.

It was so silly. And yet Shayne wriggled a little closer.

The fabric of Charlie’s jacket was cool, unpleasantly so, against his cheek at first, but he quickly got over it. His head instantly felt better, supported by something solid instead of trying to follow the turns of the bus. Shayne inhaled deeply as his stomach squeezed and his shoulders tensed against the pain. A low grumble began to surface, soft enough that he covered it up with a sigh.

“I know I sound like a broken record,” Charlie said, startling Shayne a bit, since he’d thought he’d gone back to revising. “But… you can tell me if something’s wrong.”

“I’m fine,” Shayne said. The words felt like shards in his throat. He didn’t know – wouldn’t realise for a while yet – why it was getting more and more difficult to bring himself to lie to Charlie.

Charlie nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Shayne closed his eyes and continued taking deep, delicate breaths.

#hunger #whump #angst #hunger fic #whump fic #hunger mention #starvation mention #StW Shayne #hurt no comfort #no comfort #hunger writing

[yaku-soba]

in love with your love

༶•┈┈ general m.list 

༶•┈┈ kyoutani kentarou x gn!reader | fluff

tags/warnings: set in the second and third year of high school, getting together <3

word count: 1.36k

a/n: a repost frm my old blog; i’m sorry i disappeared again but i had family issues to sort through :”) hopefully i’m back for good now 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Most people tend to look at Kentarou and stop there. 

It’s hard to explain, but he doesn’t think they see him, not really. They see his scowl, the angry pull of his brows, and immediately give him a wide berth. 

In high school, Kentarou spikes a ball into the court. It flattens, ricochets to thud against the walls of the gym. 

No one sees it. 

The volleyball guys in Seijoh see his dyed hair, the way he barks his words. They see bared teeth and say - look, there’s a mad dog. 

Kentarou walks out. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

He meets you in the spring of his second year. Seijoh has lost to Karasuno, and Kentarou’s just lost whatever he’d thought he could have had. 

(He’d tasted it. In those precious last minutes on the court, when he’d managed to bump the ball with the inside of his wrist in a miraculous save, he’d felt for a moment like he was part of a team. When he’d hit spike after spike, serve after serve, when Oikawa had set to him-

-He’d felt like they’d finally seen him.)

You bump into him in the hallway a few days after Spring High. When he looks down, a biting remark on his tongue, he’s greeted to the sight of you sprawled on the ground, clutching your head. Your papers flutter in the breeze, all butterfly wings, before settling messily on the floor. 

You let out a groan when you realize that the papers that had once been in your hands are now scattered over the ground, moving to pick them up. 

And Kentarou just - he just watches. He’s thrown off-centre - there’s been neither half-muttered snark nor apology. He’s not exactly proud of it, but he’s used to students muttering out a rushed apology without meeting his eyes, before running off with their things hastily gathered up. 

“Aren’t you going to help?” Your voice pulls him back to Seijoh, to a hallway identical to countless others on the compound. (But something has changed, something has shifted the world on its axis, just barely.)

You’re looking at him somewhat accusingly. “You weren’t looking where you were going, either,” you say when he doesn’t reply. 

“What?” He’s aware he’s probably scowling. There’s a small pang of regret at that realization. 

But you take no notice, already busying yourself with arranging the papers in some unknown order. “Come on, I’ve still got to hand in this lab report, you know.”

Dumbfounded, Kentarou squats, obediently picking up the pages of your lab report before he notices what he’s doing. 

(He sneaks a glance at your name and class. You’re a second-year too - from the class that’s right next to the stairs. He’s never seen you before.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

After that spring afternoon, he sees you around more. Perhaps you had always been there, on the periphery. 

You’re hardly ever alone, always with some classmate or other. 

He almost goes up to you - he doesn’t know exactly it is that he wants to say, only that he wants you to look at him.

(You do. You sneak glances at him out of the corner of your eye, as he brushes through the lunch crowd in the canteen to set his tray down angrily opposite Yahaba. You linger outside Seijoh’s gym, busying yourself with tying your laces, right outside of the open door to the gym.)

Third-year goes better. He ends up in your class, and as your seat-mate, no less.

Kentarou tries not to scowl as much.

He’s elated when he realizes you don’t care - you just laugh, pinching his cheeks teasingly in the way he despises but can’t quite come to resent.

(He likes the way you ruffle his dyed hair without hesitation. He likes the way you roll your eyes at his biting remarks.

Kentarou likes the way you look at him. He feels seen.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

Kentarou falls in love without really being aware of it.

By the time he does, it’s too late. He’s hooked on the pitch of your laugh and the dizzying curve of your lips in a teasing smirk. 

This is okay, he thinks. Kentarou’s never had something like this - all he’s ever had is volleyball and a hunger he can never really satiate. He thinks it’s enough that he gets to feel something like this, even if Yahaba won’t stop teasing him.

(He can’t quite keep himself from smiling a little more around you. You speak and he’ll lean in before he catches himself. He’s never been good with words and he doesn’t remember half the things you say - only that you wave your hands around animatedly as you talk, only the way your voice rises and ebbs with the story like a tide.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

“He clearly likes you back,” your friend whispers excitedly once Kyoutani has passed the both of you, waving at you casually before he turns to scowl at something Yahaba had said. “I don’t know why you’re holding yourself back.”

(You wish he’d follow up his muttered thank you with a kiss on the cheek whenever you hand him a bottle as you pop into the gym, just to see how he’s doing now that he’s back to training with the team. You want him to rest his hands on your hips and kiss you senseless against the door to your classroom, you want to tug on his tie and pretend you care about the fact that you’re supposed to be on cleanup duty.)

Sighing, you pick at your bento disinterestedly, “We’re graduating soon,” you reply tiredly, “and he’s probably going to go into professional volleyball.” Despite everything, you crack a small smile at that. 

“He loves volleyball. It’d be cruel to keep him from that.” You close the lid of your half-eaten bento. Your friend frowns but doesn’t argue. 

(You love Kyoutani. 

He loves volleyball, and that’s okay. You’ve made your peace with it.

Still, you’re not strong enough to keep yourself from the small, selfish things. You call out to him from behind the door to the gym and lean into him as you laugh, and let yourself pretend that it’s fondness you see in his eyes.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

It’s graduation by the time Kentarou realizes that you like him back, and it’s almost too late.

You’re standing before him, eyes downcast and cheeks the same shade of red as his palm after spiking drills, and you’re asking for the second button on his gakuran. The one closest to his heart, the one he hadn’t given to the girl who had asked him for it even before you had. 

(He sees the way your lashes stutter when he leans in. He remembers with sudden, newfound clarity, the way he sometimes catches you looking at him, all soft and shit.

Oh.)

Kentarou fumbles with his gakuran for a moment before he just rips the button out. 

“Here,” he says hoarsely, thrusting it out at you like he isn’t handing you his heart, “I was going to give it to you, anyway.”

He wasn’t. But that was before he’d realized exactly how blind he’s been, and he figures the details don’t really matter, not now. 

Kentarou’s lost all his chances without ever really trying, but you’re handing him a new one, and he’ll take it because all he’s ever had is volleyball and a hunger that had never quietened till he’d heard your voice. 

You smile, and he wonders how he’d ever thought it would be okay to leave without telling you.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“Are you going away?” You ask as he walks you home that evening, after a dinner that you’re going to call a date, even if it’s only in your head. “For volleyball?”

His steps stutter. “Yeah,” he says after a pause, sounding strangled. “I’ll have to call my parents weekly, though.”

I can call you, he says with every brush of his knuckles against yours, I want to, if you want it too. 

“Guess I’ll have to sign up for international calls service, then,” you say lightly. I want it, I want this, I want you. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

a/n: feel free to send me an ask / dm if you’d like to be added to my general taglist!

as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated!! :D

#haikyuu x reader #kyoutani kentarou x reader #haikyuucreations #haikyuu!! #kyoutani kentarou #kyouka writes

[self-insert-dynast]

Alice in Borderland Highschool Au Pt.1

Part Two here

Arisu:

- The type of nerd that gets bashed in dodgeball

- Fails most of his classes because he’s too busy playing games to bother with assignments

- No one sits with him at school besides Chota, Karube, Tatta, and Usagi

- His father gives him major lectures about school work but he just blocks it out

- Karube, Chota, and him, 110% pull so many wack ass shit pranks on school staff

Usagi:

- Is almost always in the school gym

- Excells at sport activities

- 100% in the volleyball team, netball team, basketball team, ect

- Pe teachers LOVE her

- Used to sit alone but started to sit with Arisu after he offered her a seat

- She would be one of the popular jocks but she’s too introverted for that

- There were a lot of rumours spread about her dad, some pitied her, others used it to pick on her

Karube:

- Karube’s the kind of kid that smokes in the school bathrooms

- Everyone thinks he’s super cool but like also intimidating

- Arisu doesn’t get bullied as much anymore because Karube WILL beat the shit out of you if you do

- Would pay Chota to do his homework for him

Chota:

- Would cry if he got in trouble

- Never wants to break the rules but Arisu and Karube rope him into it somehow

- Straight A student but has a nervous breakdown before every assignment or test

- Teachers LOVE him

- Sweet sweet boy

- Also got heavily bullied before Karube showed up

- Favourite subjects are Engineering and Maths

Chishiya:

- Straight A student as well

- Everyone is slightly scared of him

- Pisses everyone off for fun

- Niragi bullies him a lot but has never hit him because Chishiya pisses him off so much he just leaves

- Kuina is the only person allowed to hang out with him

- He may not show it but he’s forever grateful to Kuina for being his friend

Aguni:

- Absolute jock, like star quarterback kind of jock

- Is the leader of a group of bullies nicknames “The Militants”

- Does really well in sport subjects

- And loves cooking/baking subjects but shhhh

- Would beat the shit out of people but like on lonely quiet nights he’ll feel intense guilt about it and consider changing his ways but knows if he stops picking on others, he’ll loose his authority over Niragi and Tatta and they’d probably end up killing a few students

- Secretly has a heart of gold but looks scary as hell

Takatora:

- Constantly talks about death

- Is only in the bully group because he’s sadistic and scary and The Militants didn’t want to be on his bad side

- Doesn’t hand in a single assignment and just guesses on all his tests

- All the teachers are WAY too afraid to punish him for it tho

Takeru:

- Is a weird theatre kid but doesn’t get beaten up because he’s childhood friends with Aguni so he’s off limits

- People originally called him “Hatter” to pick on him for his dad’s ‘lame’ job and how he could be seen helping his dad out at work because they couldn’t afford other workers

- However Takeru being the absolute pan icon theatre kid he is, completely owned that name and started to call himself that

- This bitch can’t do math to save his life but does great in drama class

- A lot of guys, gals, and enbies have crushes on him, something about his chaotic yet confident demeanour is alluring also the fact he’s friends with the militant’s leader so he has a lot of power

Tatta:

- His favourite subject is woodwork and you can’t tell me otherwise

- Gets bullied a lot as well, mostly by the popular group of girls

- They take advantage of his naivety big time

- Things like being really nice to him but it’s actually just a joke among the group, like a “look he’s so pathetic to think we’d be nice to him” kinda thing

- Would cry in the school bathrooms

- If you were a new kid at school, he’d show you around and make sure you got to your classes

Kuzuryū:

- Maths teacher for seniors

- Everyone is scared of him, like nobody wants him as a maths teacher but when you have him, he’s actually really good

- Like he’s the kind of teacher that’ll let class be easy going as long as nobody misbehaves

- I’ll respect you if you respect me kinda vibe

- If you came to him after class crying about your grades he’d give you tutoring lessons in his own time for free

#alice in borderland #high school #au #kuzuryu #tatta #takeru #hatter #aib #takatora samura #Morizono Aguni #usagi #ryohei arisu #chota #karube

[ratmonky]

Sweet Blossoms

this is a commission, my friend put a gun against my head to write this and I didn’t get to write any of my own ideas so you don’t tell me it sucked cuz i already know it did lol

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: unhealthy relationship, cheating, vanilla *bleh*

AO3 Link

There was no way he could know what kind of flowers you liked so he had left you all sorts of kinds.

You crouched down and took the flower bouquet in your arms, looking around to see who had left them but you couldn’t see him when he was that far into the darkness. With the prettiest smile on your lips, you inhaled the sweet fragrances of different flowers all at once. It almost made you dizzy because of how strong each flower's aroma was.

Carefully walking back inside the apartment, you started looking for the note the cheap supermarket flowers usually came with. While you were handling the flowers, the note slipped and fell onto the floor, right where your boyfriend was standing.

“This again?” he sighed, taking the note. He opened the note shamelessly, reading it out loud. “(name), as pretty as these flowers are, they are nothing compared to your beauty. I hope you’re staying healthy and safe.” He flipped the note to see if there was more to it but when he realized there wasn’t, he tore it apart. “Sounds like a creep.”

“Don’t say that.” You frowned, watching the note get destroyed. “They are harmless.”

“No sane man would leave flowers for some college girl living with her boyfriend. He’s probably still out there rubbing one off.” He leaned to the wall. “I would,” he added with a smirk.

“Stop being vulgar.”

“You say that while wearing things like that. You look for attention as if I’m not giving ya enough.” His words made you look down at your outfit. It was just a sundress.

“You’re overreacting,” your voice was fainter than a whisper.

“Don’t play the victim now. If it weren’t for me, you’d be sucking someone off for money to afford to live in a smaller apartment than this. Maybe you’d join those hookers in the kabuki district if I stopped giving you attention, huh?”

Legs shaking, you pressed the bouquet of flowers to your chest. There wasn’t anything you could or wanted to say to him. He was being mean but he was right. Maybe you had to stop dressing up like this. If it weren’t for him you wouldn’t be able to afford your major or rent. Your boyfriend was paying for the rent while you continued studying and worked to save money to pay off your student loan.

“Never forget that you wouldn’t be shit without me.”

You rapidly nodded, avoiding making him any more upset.

“Good,” he sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Now, go wipe your face, you look like a clown.”

Your hand went to your cheek to feel your makeup over your skin. It was still smooth, not cakey at all but from the way he said it, perhaps it looked worse than you thought.

“Okay.”

Walking past him, you slipped the small piece of paper in your dress’s pocket without him noticing. You put the flowers in a vase before placing them next to the old ones. This wasn’t the first time you had received flowers from your secret admirer and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last time.

Back in your room, hastily you took out the small paper and grinned when a movie ticket greeted you.

~~~

There hadn’t been a time in your life where you put this much effort into how you were going to look like to go out.

Your boyfriend often didn’t like it when you dressed up or put on makeup, he usually made comments on how you looked that made you feel bad about your appearance. Although you knew he loved you, it hurt your confidence. His words affected you in ways you couldn’t describe.

It was one of the reasons why you were conscious of your appearance right now and why you kept tugging your skirt down, worried that you might be showing too much skin. You wouldn’t put your small compact mirror down either, you kept checking on your makeup.

Everyone was looking at you. Thinking that you’re a slut.

At least that was what your mind was telling you. No, that was something your boyfriend would say.

While trying to ignore your own thoughts, you walked up to the employee behind the counter and showed them your ticket to enter the movie theatre. They told you your ticket’s arranged seat number and you saw from the computer screen that the seat beside yours was occupied.

You took a deep breath to calm your senses. The only reason you were here was because of how curious you were, nothing else. You had been getting flowers every Friday for longer than a year now and not knowing the identity of your secret admirer was eating you up.

I’m only gonna take a peek, you promised yourself and walked inside the theatre. If it turned out to be a creep like your boyfriend kept telling you about, then you could just walk away. This was a public space so there was no need to feel anxious about what could happen.

It took you a long moment to find your seat at the furthest back row and get comfortable on the soft cushions. The place wasn’t empty but it wasn’t full of people either, yet the row you had your seat on was completely free.

Each passing minute was unbearable even when you were trying to busy your mind with your phone but nevertheless failed to notice it when someone took a seat next to you.

By the time you looked up, there was a familiar face sitting next to you.

“Junpei!” you gasped, he always managed to sneak up on people since his presence went unnoticed.

He couldn’t meet your gaze, “Hi, it’s been a while huh?”

“Yeahh,” you went on to say before looking around, the trailers were about to start since the lights dimmed, your secret admirer was nowhere to be seen. “Umm, you see, I’m glad to see you here but I’m waiting for someone, this seat is taken.”

His adam’s apple moved as he gulped, there was a sweat droplet that drizzled down from his cheek to his neck.

Your eyes then landed on his lap. He was holding a single rose in his hand, the flower shook in his grasp.

“Oh.” It dawned on you. “Okay.”

Junpei held the flower out for you to take but still averted his gaze from yours. Slowly, you took the rose from him and lifted it up to your nose, inhaling the sweet aroma.

“You can leave,” he whispered, trying not to break the unwritten rule of a movie theater. “I won’t judge.”

He had noticed how disappointed you looked when you found out it was him who had been leaving you those flowers, he wasn’t the aggressive type to force you to sit down with him like this. Entrapping you and making you feel uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Why?” you whispered back.

“You looked disappointed.”

You snorted, “I was surprised to find out my next-door neighbor and dropout classmate was my secret admirer.”

Someone shushed.

Trying to stifle your giggling, you continued. “You could’ve just asked me out normally.”

His cheeks flushed deep red and he finally met your eyes. “You have a boyfriend.”

You got quiet, “Yeah.”

I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend but I came here to meet my secret admirer. Why?

Perhaps it was because you wanted to feel validated. The poems you got with the flowers, at least the ones you managed to hide were special to you. Whenever you doubted yourself, rereading the poems gave you the confidence you lacked.

The movie started.

Junpei was fidgeting with his fingers, no matter how much he tried he couldn’t focus on the movie. He had been wanting to see this one since it came out, the hype around the release of this movie and the reviews he had read made him more excited than ever, yet… Since you were here, his thoughts were full of you.

From the corner of his eye, he could see that you were staring at the silver screen but your expression was blank as if you weren’t paying any attention either.

He opened his mouth to say something but a scream coming from the female lead interrupted him. His attention involuntarily directed itself to the screen and soon, he sort of got invested in the storyline as you were having an internal debate with yourself.

There was an exciting scene that had him gripping to the sides of his seat, he was about to comment on the scene when he turned to face you but you were already looking at him, blushing.

Junpei didn’t understand the reason why you were blushing until he looked down. In the heat of the moment, he had placed his hand on top of yours on the seat’s cup holder.

A blush matching yours spread on his face and neck, he apologized before proceeding to lift his hand but you prevented him from pulling away by holding his hand.

Then, you intertwined your fingers together with his while scooting closer to the edge of your seat to close the distance between the two of you.

In that quiet moment of your hand tightly holding his own, Junpei started nodding as if he understood something and returned his attention to the screen.

He couldn’t focus on the rest of the movie, rather he focused on how warm your hand was or how sweaty his palm was.

Your head softly leaned on his tense shoulder. A wave of panic made Junpei’s eye look at you if you had died because -why else would you put your head on his shoulder? Yet, you were very much alive and you were still holding his hand tightly. He didn’t dare to move, not sure what exactly to do either.

Whether it be the most rational thing that came up to his mind or his own curiosity on how it felt, he tilted his head until his cheek pressed against your hair. Your warmth was enough to warm his heart, it gave him the comfort he had thought he would never get. The delicious smell of your shampoo invaded his nostrils almost instantly, a genuine smile spread on his face as you continued leaning on him.

“Why did you leave those flowers?”

The question was sudden.

“Because I… I have feelings for you.” His voice was quieter than a whisper out of consideration to not interrupt other people’s enjoyment of the movie.

“Why?”

“Why?” he echoed, thinking what to answer. There were too many reasons why. He couldn’t come up with just one. “Because you’re you.”

“What does that mean?” You lifted your head up to look at him.

“Well, it means that I like…” Geez, it was hard to say it out loud when you were looking. His cheeks were burning up and his eye was looking at everything but yours. “You’re beautiful and considerate. You care about others and you’re selfless. I guess I like you because you were kind to me back in high school.” The memory brought a smile to his complexion, you two were in the same film appreciation club in the past and were close friends if not best friends. “You’re not scared to be yourself. You always know what you want in life. I always wanted to be like you or rather be with you, kinda like adornment with a dash of being in love with you... I guess.”

Was he really describing you or some idea he had about you?

There was no way of knowing. You didn’t know who you were anymore. Not after you started dating your boyfriend.

If you had asked your boyfriend to describe you, what would he say?

Nevermind, you didn’t want to know.

“Hey,” Junpei called in a panicked voice, someone in the audience shushed again. “Are you alright? Did I say something wrong?”

You shook your head, tightening your hand around his while your eyes sparkled with gratitude. It made you look so kissable, your lips being parted slightly only made the thought a lot more irresistible.

Junpei’s face leaned closer to yours, he was moving hesitantly and slowly, waiting for your reaction. Instead of moving away, you were just staring at him but he felt like he was forcing you again.

Wanting you to make the decision, he stopped himself and closed his eyes, brows furrowing as his anxiety was eating him up. His heart hammered through his chest and he waited and waited and waited until something soft pressed on his lips.

He peeked with one eye to look at your face, the view made his heart skip a beat. Your eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering as your glossy lips moved against his own. Having not much experience, he followed your lead, parting his lips and mirroring the way you moved yours, ignoring how wildly his body shook from excitement.

You tasted as sweet as you looked, your perfume filled his lungs and made his head spin. He was being conscious about a lot of things as your hand that was holding him moved to his shoulder and then to his neck to card your fingers through the short strands.

He could feel your warmth through your lips better than when he held your hand. He experimentally snaked his tongue inside your mouth to get a better glimpse of how you actually tasted.

Almost immediately, you opened your mouth to allow him entrance, letting his tongue hesitantly move along with yours. Teeth clashed once or twice but it did nothing other than making you giggle into the kiss.

His hand went to your cheek to caress it and pull your face closer until he could get a better angle to kiss you. There was something so endearing about the way he touched you, his touch was gentle, loving even. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Once he pulled himself back, the small wet strands connecting your lips together thinned and broke apart.

Junpei was completely red and you knew you weren’t any different. His lips were swollen and pink, eyes full of admiration as he was looking at you. He was cherishing this moment.

The lights turned on, ruining the mood.

Both of you flinched and jumped back on your seats, unaware how you were practically on his lap before. It was kind of comedic, nobody would have cared if they saw two people being lovey-dovey in the back row of a theatre since it was something common yet both of you were acting like two young lovers who had been busted by their parents.

The awkwardness went away only after you exited the theater, holding Junpei’s hand.

“Your dress is really pretty,” he said to break the silence as you were walking down the street.

“Thanks, it has pockets,” you chirped, putting your free hand inside the small pocket to show it to him. “This is my favorite dress!”

“Cute,” he chuckled. His cheeks were still faintly blushed red but not as visible as before. Although his mind was clouded by many things and what was going to happen next, he didn’t dare to say anything that could ruin your smile. Not only because you looked gorgeous with a smile on your face but also because he knew you needed it.

“Junpei.”

“Hmm?”

“Wanna stop by somewhere?”

“Like for dinner? Sure, although I’m not hungry, I can watch you eat.”

“No,” you uttered, pointing towards somewhere.

Junpei’s eye followed where you were pointing your finger and his mouth gaped, cheeks flushing bright red instantaneously. He looked at you to see that you were blushing as well.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna.” You were regretting making the suggestion.

“No, I wanna, definitely, yes, go.” He had to take a deep breath to calm himself before saying something that made sense. “You asked too suddenly.”

Nonetheless, you were the embarrassed one. He had to swallow down his own embarrassment to sheepishly drag you across the street and into the red light district. The hotel you had been pointing at had a large neon sign that read some nonsense like ‘secret getaway’ on it. You wondered if it was the absurdity of the sign or the situation which made you point at this specific hotel.

In front of the entrance, he hesitated walking inside.

“I can pay,” you said, mistaking the reason why he was hesitating.

“You don’t need to, I was just… thinking.” He was blushing again, how was he going to say this. He didn’t dare to say it out loud. Ugh, he had to. “I-I d-don’t have a condom with me.”

“I think they might sell some inside,” you hummed before getting on your tiptoes to whisper, “You don’t need one anyway.”

This time, his blood rushed south.

Your eyes landed on the not-so-small problem and softly giggled. “I guess I have to check us in, huh?”

“Please…” He used a hand to cover his face in embarrassment. “Don’t tease me about this.”

“I’ll try not to,” you said, pulling him inside the hotel, he quickly pulled his shirt down to cover the front of his pants. The reception was quiet, you chose a room that was the cheapest and got your room key from the receptionist.

Junpei let go of your hand to dive it in his pocket to fish out his wallet to pay for the room but you stopped him. He looked at you in question and you shook your head, retaking his hand. “We’ll pay when we’re leaving since we’re paying by the hour.”

He hadn’t realized how uninformed he was about this sort of stuff until today. He nodded slowly and let you lead him to the elevator and then to your room.

The awkward atmosphere was back as soon as you stepped inside the room. You finally let go of his hand to take off your shoes. While you placed your own neatly by the entrance hall, Junpei had just kicked off his shoes, leaving them as they were.

You walked further inside the room after fixing his shoes and placing them next to yours.

Junpei was busy checking the minibar as you sat on the bed, taking out your phone from your purse to check the time. It was close to evening time, your boyfriend would be back home soon. Shaking your head, you put your phone away and focused your stare on Junpei’s back. “Thank you.”

“For w-what?” His shoulders tensed at your words, it made you smile.

“For the flowers and the notes you left by my door.” You laid down on your back to feel how soft the sheets were. “Receiving them made me excited and feel validated.”

“I-it was nothing.” He walked over to the bed, it was too late to drink anything from the minibar, on top of that, the prices were way too expensive. “I always thought you found them stalkerish.”

The bed sank and creaked as he sat next to you.

“My boyfriend did.” Ah, right. Saying it out loud made you realize how silly the situation was. You were in a love hotel with someone who sent you flowers despite having a boyfriend.

“Yeah.” He didn’t know what to say, the mood had changed again.

Thankfully, you knew what to say.

“Have you ever jerked off to me?”

Caught off guard, Junpei squealed but then forced himself to laugh to avoid answering the question.

“Hmm?” You lifted your head from the bed to look at him, determined to get an answer to your question.

“I can’t answer that…” His voice died off lamely, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

“It’s just a question,” you replied, encouraging him to tell you the truth.

He mumbled.

“What?” You smirked, “I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said maybe!” He covered his face with his hands. Another involuntary blush colored his cheeks and neck. The sound of the fabric rustling as you perhaps leaned closer to him filled the room, but all he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears. It seemed like an eternity until you said something.

“How?” you asked, almost sheepishly.

His eye opened widely. Was he hearing things? “What?”

“How did you do it?” His eye met yours again, then turned down briefly to his lap before returning his attention toward you.

He was frozen. He slowly processed your words, pausing for a moment. Had you really asked him that? Did he imagine that? Junpei stayed in his position for a while. He didn't dare to move.

You put a hand on his knee, sending a shiver down his spine as your hand moved up to his thigh.

“(name),” he breathed, the anticipation of what was to come made his cock twitch in his pants.

“Junpei,” you echoed, grabbing his thigh and letting your fingers brush against the growing bulge. “Tell me, how did you?”

He was biting his lip as your hands fiddled with his pants, pulling the zipper down and humming.

It all felt like a dream, something he would have fantasized about when he had his hand wrapped around his cock late at night. Not something that would actually happen in a million years. Yet, it was happening right now at this moment.

“I imagined you touching me,” he revealed when you cupped his bulge.

“How?”

“Naked and-” You tugged at the front of his pants, he lifted his hips and pulled them down.

“And?” Your fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers, smiling mischievously.

“Under me,” he gasped as you pulled his underwear down to free his half-hard cock.

“Under you?” Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, you lowered your mouth towards his cock, lolling out your tongue, you let your drool drizzle down on him. Slowly, you moved your hand from the base to the tip, spreading your drool to use it as lubrication.

“Y-yeah.” His hands gripped the sheets tightly. His cock was fully hard and was throbbing in your hand. “Under me.”

Your hand pumped his cock for the first time, it made a faint click sound. “Tell me more.” Using your thumb, you gently pulled back the thin layer of skin to expose the tip of his cock that was glistening with precum. With your forefinger, you tapped on the liquid and moved your finger away to see how far it would stretch. “Or better, why don’t you demonstrate it for me?”

Something snapped inside him.

Junpei grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up before locking your lips together in less than a second. His hand continued pulling you closer to himself while his tongue slipped out to explore your mouth once again. You sucked on his tongue and stroked his cock while grabbing a chunk of his hair in your other hand. You pulled his hair and opened your mouth widely to take the lead and this time you wanted to savor his taste.

Junpei’s free hand went to your ass, groping it and squeezing it as tightly as he could to get you to moan into the kiss and when you did, he lifted your leg to take you under him. Now, he was able to press himself on you.

You turned your face away for Junpei to kiss your neck, so you could jerk him off faster. He pecked on your neck and licked the sensitive skin until he reached your collarbone to nibble on your skin. Desperate to leave a mark of possession.

“Junpei,” you chanted, wanting to warn him about not leaving a mark. “Don’t-”

His teeth sank into your skin, hard enough to draw blood and your body squirmed in pleasure under him. An intense moan left your lips and you retrieved your hand from his cock to instead push his hair back.

Exposing his forehead, made him pull himself back from you. None of you dared to say anything as you gazed at each other. Your eyes were on his scars, albeit you were shocked, you managed to not show it on your face and instead pulled him closer to press a gentle kiss on his scars.

Your hands slid down to his cheeks and you squished them together, before pulling them back to take off your panties. You didn’t even get to take them off properly as Junpei balanced himself on a balled-up fist and hiked the skirt of your dress up. Although you wanted to offer him to take off your dress and panties, he was already positioning himself between your legs.

He stood still for a moment to look at you under him. Legs spread, hair and dress a mess while panties stuck on one ankle. He had never imagined he would see you like this when he left his house today. If he did, he would have been a lot more prepared.

Like bringing a condom.

“Is it really okay?” he asked.

You nodded, not really understanding what he was asking.

Without wasting another precious second, Junpei tapped his cock on your clit, dragging the tip back and forth between your folds before pushing the tip in. He pushed in deeper, letting out a groan in the process when your gummy walls squeezed around him.

You gasped softly, legs wrapping around his hips.

He took a moment to get himself together, it felt like he was going to cum if he moved. This was nothing like what he had imagined.

Whimpering, you moved your hips to tell him to move.

Junpei nodded, unable to let a single syllable out because of the way you clenched around him. He took a deep breath before tentatively pulling his hips back and slamming into you.

Your lips opened in a silent moan and he leaned down to press his lips onto yours as his hips started moving. His pace was irregular, the snap of his hips was brutal but his cock stroked all the good spots.

Arms wrapping around his neck, you held onto him for dear life when his cock began hammering into you. The girth of his cock was stretching you to your limit but the length was worse, with each snap of his hips, you felt the tip kiss your cervix.

The kiss turned sloppy soon enough, both of you were covered in each other's drool from moving your lips clumsily and thanks to the impact of Junpei humping your cunt like a rabid dog in heat.

His hands went to fondle your tits, he pulled the front of your dress down and dove his hands inside your bra to pinch your nipples, he was excitedly breathing into your mouth.

Both of you were close, he knew because you were a moaning mess, moving your hips desperately to meet his thrusts and his cock was twitching inside you because of how you wanted him like he wanted you.

“I’m- I’m gonna-” He couldn’t even finish his sentence.

When you felt his cock throbbing inside you, your legs wrapped around him tighter preventing him from pulling out. Once it occurred to him that you weren’t letting him go, he surged his forward as far as he could to bury his cock deep in your pussy. The tip of his cock pressed against your cervix and your gummy walls clenched around him.

Junpei’s eye rolled up while he spilled his seed inside your womb and in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. He pulled out to watch his seed oozing out from your gaping hole, he used his thumb to spread your folds wider and smiled in awe.

A moan left your lips, legs shaking in the pleasure of your tummy being full of his cum.

Junpei crawled next to you and put his head on your chest, his hand playing with your breast over your bra as the two of you caught your breaths.

There was a soft silence while you petted his hair and watched the ceiling.

You didn’t know what time it was but it had been long enough.

It was time to go home.

When you arrived at your apartment building, you retrieved your hand that was holding Junpei’s reluctantly. The smile Junpei wished you didn’t lose on your face was gone, instead, there was a broken smile.

He opened the building door for you and pressed the elevator call button. You were clutching on your purse, looking everywhere but his way. Maybe you were thinking that you made a mistake, Junpei knew he couldn’t compete with your boyfriend after all.

The elevator doors opened. The two of you got in. He pressed your floor. After an agonizingly long pause, the doors closed with a soft bell chime.

Having previously made your decision, you grabbed Junpei by his collar and pulled him down to kiss him greedily. Dumbfounded, he kissed you back. Although he wanted to use his hands to caress your body, the elevator’s bell chimed again, alerting that the doors were opening.

You pecked on his lips before letting go of his collar, brightly beaming at him.

His lips curled up into a smile matching yours.

Together, you walked past his apartment and to your place while holding hands, thankfully moving your stuff to the next door was easy.

#junpei x reader #junpei yoshino x reader

[necros-writing-stuff]

Saw that abo you did where leighton is made to watch Eden wreck PC 👀 good stuff, good stuff. Going along with the thought that lil bitch leighton went to school with Eden and Bailey, and they bullied the shit outta him, perhaps could we get:

Eden and Bailey being told by the PC they share, crying their little eyes out, about leighton forcing all of the students to let him take nudes of them. That after they ran from the class room, he forced them to detention and spanked them.

Protective/possessive behavior is so fucking hot and those two ooze it (when bailey fucking wants to the twa-)

This is straight up me writing Leighton getting beat so Leighton hate gang come get y'all juice I guess

The school is quiet as Leighton steps out back to his car, students eager to disappear for the weekend. The end of term was approaching, leaving the man with stacks of paperwork that were rather stressful. Tedious, easy, but stressful.

What he least expects is seeing Bailey and Eden stood waiting for him - they both look as rugged as they always have. Bailey with his leaner muscles and tattoos, cigarette smoke rising as he takes a drag. Eden in his old, patched clothes, larger frame permanently adorned with a frown. It brings back uncomfortable memories of the two tormenting him in this very school.

"What do you two want?" Leighton pauses, clutching his work bag a little tight. Eden lives out in the woods like some feral animal now, why was he in town? Bailey could be here for an orphan, but the other? Strange.

The caretaker drops his cigarette, using the tip of his shoe to crush the bud. "You've been pushing you weight where we don't want it, Toad. Need a word."

Leighton flinches hearing the old nickname. Toad. Because he'd been so scared of getting beaten by these two he'd sweat when they were around, looking 'slimy'. But he was an adult now. So he stood composed, smoothing his expensive suit down and nodding.

"Very well. Please, my office," he keeps his voice calm and level. What could it be? As far as he's aware, everything has been business as usual? Eden glaring at the back of his head sure isn't helping. Dear God, are those more scars? What a brute.

Stepping into his office, he keeps the door open for the men to step through. Politeness, poise. Civility. This doesn't have to be like it used to be, Leighton ending up limping home, abdomen covered in bruises from their fists.

The door closes and Leighton's heart spikes because one of them grabs him from behind. It's Bailey, roughly pinning his arms and pulling on his neatly styled hair. Before he can yell out, Eden pulls back his fist, aiming straight for his gut and making him double over, air knocked form his lungs - and he's manhandled into his seat.

Struggle as hard as he wants, Leighton can't break free of their grips, can't stop regressing in his head to the scared little boy he used to be. Even as his arms are bound. He's sweating again, isn't he?

"Password," Bailey demands, crouching down so he can look up into panicked green eyes.

Leighton stutters it out, shame filling him at how easy he gave in. He was past this, he was an adult, a successful adult, and these two were still just horrible bullies that were here to ruin and torment him. It's not fair, it's not!

The tapping of a keyboard is interrupted with the crack of his jaw being hit with a large fist. Eden, again. The man hadn't said anything, and to be honest he hoped he stayed quiet. When the man did speak, it was mostly to deal threats that he had rarely lied about.

"Where do you keep your little photography collection? And you best give us all of them, or we'll strip you and tie you to the gate like we used to. Pretty sure I saw that Whitney kid smoking out there just now, think they'd like to have some fun time with dear old teacher?" Bailey's words make his blood freeze in his veins. Anything but that. Anything but letting Whitney have a way to abuse him

"... File called 'decorative ideas'," Leighton wheezes out, still trying to get his breath back from the punch. No one gave a shit about the decor of the school, no one would bother to check the real contents.

Bailey hums, clicking around until the file appears. As the computer whirrs, images of students in debauched positions, lewd poses and sometimes tearful faces load in. Eden swears when one set in particular loads.

"They weren't lying," the gruff man seethes, fists clenching in a way that makes Leighton nauseous. It was just that pretty one, the one with the good grades. The prudish one he'd had to blackmail to get those racy photos of them covered in suds washing his car.

The ones of you bent over his lap, ass red-raw were the best. You shouldn't have called him a dirty old pervert, should have just bent over and let him get a nice shot of your hole while you cleaned.

Bailey starts deleting the images, tutting as he clicks and drags. "You see, Toad, this one here is ours," he pauses on an image of you covering your naked body with your hands, refusing to look in the camera. Leighton wants to vomit. He knew you were an orphan, but so had plenty of the others. What would make you different? Unless-

Another punch, this time from the tattooed man, and there's no break in between as both men begin pummeling into his bound, helpless body. Pain blooms in his ribs, jaw, browbone - and there's a kidney shot in there, if he's not mistaken.

He hacks up a ball of spit, a little blood within the mix, attempting to suck in air. He can't breath, can't defend himself, can only take the onslaught. Can only start to numb as he remembers being used like this as a child. As their personal punching bag.

Bitterness wells up in his chest. He had thought he had changed in his maturity. Turns out he was wrong.

"Are those the only ones?" Eden grasps him by the hair, pulling his head back in a way that strains his neck.

It's hard to wheeze out the yes, but he is let go, flopping in his chair like a rag doll. Breathing, that's all he has to focus on. Deep one in, hold for a few seconds, and release. Stay calm. Don't piss yourself like you used to.

Eden starts rifling around the draws of his office as Bailey ensures the pictures are wiped from the computer, a little slow and clumsy. Stupid fuck barely even knows how to use modern technology, it seems, but he knows enough to find the proper way to get rid of it all.

Eden returns with his camera. His expensive, lovely camera, placing it on the desk before getting a hammer from his inside pocket.

"N-no!" Leighton yells out in vain as the hammer smashes down, mangling the expensive equipment. Eden doesn't stop at one, continuously wrecking the device with a personal vendetta. Even the memory card within was shattered.

When he's done, the hunter turns back towards the headmaster, still bound to his own chair. He's not gentle as he lifts his chin with the claw of the hammer.

"You even look at them again and we'll come back and I'll shove this in your fucking eye socket, do you understand?"

Leighton nods, determined to keep eye contact as he does so. He has cowered enough, he could try to save some face now by not begging or crying.

The binds start coming loose, but Leighton can't move. Can only wilt, mind beginning to disassociate. He thinks he hears the two men moving to the door. Thinks he hears the caretaker calk back "Later, Toad," before the door slams shut.

The clock on his wall is unreasonably loud, now he's alone.

#Eden the Lonely #Bailey the Caretaker #Leighton the Headmaster #spill your guts #anonymous

[sugarsatoru]

Espresso Shots

Pairing: Mammon x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Ratings: General

Warnings: Grammar errors, cursing

Note: This is the first fanfic that I have written in years. Inspired by the song 'Hello Tutorial' by Zion T & Seulgi.

This is also cross-posted in AO3 .

_____________________________________________________________

Mammon instantly perked up behind the counter and flashed a toothy grin when he saw you enter the cafe. He’ll do it tonight, he told himself. He’ll be the one to take his favorite customer’s order tonight. It's not like he waited the whole day for you to come nor did he practice too many times in front of the mirror on how he’ll wave and greet or the not so cheesy and lowkey pick up lines that he’ll use. Really, he did not prepare for this at all.

“Oh? Interesting.” Satan, the blonde headed barista, said with a smirk while arranging the pastries in the display beside Mammon. “Don’t wave like a weirdo and make sure to not embarrass yourself. Remember that even Lucifer has the hots for them.”

“Hi Satan,” You casually greeted him as you walked to the counter. He gave you a nod before disappearing into the kitchen.

Mammon’s hand instantly pretended to fix his hair. His gorgeous smile was instantly replaced with a pretentious snarl when you gave him a small smile.

Shit, why can’t he pull his act together?

Sometimes, Mammon is convinced that you are beyond human, an angel or a deity or something. You are simply ethereal in his eyes. The little things you do are too adorable for him to handle. Like when you squint your eyes when you read the menu, that puzzled look on your face whenever you’re choosing between two pastries, and especially tonight, when you’re just an arm's length away from you, your features are clearly visible from his very eyes.

“Hi Mammon, I’ll get a large iced macchiato with extra six shots of espresso and put some energy packets in there, whatever is available.”

Mammon furrowed his brows at you, “Are ya sure?” he asked “I can’t give ya that, s’not healthy at all… not like I care but..b-but...”

You crossed your arms and smiled sweetly at him, “I know you don’t, I’m just in the pit of despair.”

“It’s 10pm!”

“More reason why I need that coffee!” You don’t. You really don’t especially when you have a one month old coffee machine in your home.

Mammon leaned towards you, one hand on the counter table “You’ll be up till noon tomorrow, be dead tired when the caffeine wears out and I won’t be able to see you tomorrow if that happens!”

“What?” You whispered as your gaze met Mammon’s. His face went red and instantly looked down. “Jesus…”

You feel like you’re going to combust. You’ve been dying to flirt with Mammon ever since you laid your eyes on him. You’ve been wanting him to flash you that toothy smile that he always has when he greets other customers. You’ve been internally cursing girls who flirts with him every chance that they get. With you, it was also a forced interaction followed by a deafening silence. God, or whatever deity, or even demon, must have heard your cries and wishes.

Everyday, you enter the cafe bringing with you the hope that Mammon will take your order, Mammon will use some cheesy pick up lines for you. It has always been mammon.

You stared at Mammon for a while, he was the only real guy who managed to check everything off your dream guy list-- Gorgeous, charming, and sexy. Well, maybe you can only cross off the physical section of your type since you haven’t really interacted with Mammon despite being a regular at the cafe for months now. You were even convinced that you’re not his type.

It was Satan, Mammon’s younger brother, who introduced you to the cafe. When both of you were paired for a project, you would always go there after school. You’re not the biggest fan of expensive coffees since you just bought a coffee machine back in your apartment to save some money, but then coffee is the best especially when it's free.

Satan, along with his three older brothers, and a man named Diavlo runs the cafe. It was a simple minimalist cafe and it was often jam packed. It might be the coffee but it was more because of the brothers, and the boss man Diavlo himself are the reason why college and high school students keep on swarming in the cafe.

The brothers are the most gorgeous guys that you have ever seen, Satan and Levi are equally gorgeous along with Lucifer, but it was different for you when it comes to Mammon. Expensive coffees are not your type actually, but no one said about it being served by a gorgeous barista.

Mammon internally cursed. Just right when Satan told him to not embarrass himself, he managed to do the opposite. Looking up a little bit, he peeked at your reaction. Mouth agape, eyes staring at his previous form. Ethereal, he thinks. You’re just so ethereally breathtaking that he managed to make a fool out of himself and now he’s a hundred percent sure that he’ll never see you again because you won’t go back.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he pulled all of his remaining guts to serve you. “I’ll get you that co-.”

“Keep me company then.” You reached out to tug Mammon's sleeve “I don’t really need expensive coffee, I have a coffee machine in my apartment. I only go here because of you.”

The white haired barista could not believe what he heard. He was sure that you’ll find him creepy especially when he’s giving you nothing but cold replies when you greet him, or when he purposely avoids you and pretends to be busy whenever you enter the cafe. It was Lucifer that he was so sure of to sweep you off your feet but then you rejected him right off the bat because you told him that you already set your eyes on someone. God knows that everytime when you’re around, he wishes that he could pull you close and bury his face in your hair.

Mammon couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that it was him. You rejected Lucifer because you like him. For months you’ve been going to the cafe because of him and for months he has been wallowing everytime you step out of the cafe because he just likes you too much and he thinks that you won’t even spare him a minute of your time.

Mammon pressed his lips on to the side of your head and whispered “Take a seat for a minute would ya?”

“Only if you’ll take me home”

---

“Satan, where is Mammon!?” Lucifer growled. It’s a busy day in the cafe and the teenagers who won’t stop pestering him despite the long line made the situation worse.

“Uhmm… Somewhere you want to be I guess?” Satan smirked and pointed at the window. “You missed a lot yesterday.”

Lucifer crossed his arms and sighed. “So that’s why he didn’t go home.”

“They grossly look like teenagers with their first boyfriends!” Levi snickered.

Lucifer smiled at the sight of his brother and you exchanging goodbyes looking like teenagers in love. The looks that you unknowingly gave each other does not go unnoticed by him, but that doesn’t mean that he’ll back off and eat his pride. So when Mammon entered the cafe with the goofiest smile on his face. Lucifer can’t help it but be happy for his dear brother.

“Very well Mammon, it was about time.” Lucifer said as he smacked the head of his younger brother, “But hide that damn hickey, this is a cafe not a club.”

#mammon #obey me #obey me x mc #mammon x mc #i love mammon so much #mammon is so cute #mammon x reader

[thedisguisedaltruism]

fond stares, vast place, loud heartbeats

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, concert au

pairing: wonwoo/gn reader

summary: wonwoo hates the crowds, but he has to save up all his energy since you’re taking him as your concert buddy for taylor swift’s 1989 tour. little did he know, he will soon realize that he was actually in love with you, thanks to taylor and her wicked songwriting.

word count: 2,192

a/n: dumping this shit because too much feels for you are in love live :((

2015

“Wons, turn it up, turn it up!”

Wonwoo couldn’t help but snort from your excitement to see your longtime idol live. You worked hard to save enough so you could see Taylor Swift since then, and now you’re about to witness your turning point in life.

...together with your best friend, not to mention how he loathes crowds.

I Know Places is currently playing on the car stereo and you're warming up as you hit the high note in the chorus, dramatically pressing your chest with eyes shut. Wonwoo takes his final turn as you finally arrive at the stadium.

"Missed the note there, my friend." He teases. You could care less from his assed remarks because your mind's been in euphoria since you woke up from a power nap a few hours ago.

Outside the venue has already gathered a big crowd, and you patiently wait for your best friend who's double-checking the doors if they're surely closed.

Wonwoo has been your best friend for five years, and being grateful to have him is an understatement as he has witnessed your ups and downs in college. He knows that apart from your family and him, Taylor and her music has already played such a great role from adolescence until adulthood.

As a sucker for books, Wonwoo was undoubtedly impressed by Taylor's songwriting prowess since he listens to your discussions during the free time about the lyric analyses that you read across the internet, and you usually play her live performances whenever you pull off all-nighters that's why he agreed to be your concert buddy because he wants to see the person who could give rainbows to the person he likes.

Yes. The person he likes.

Wonwoo thought being in a Taylor Swift concert is not bad at all. It's like having a big crowd of best friends gathering in one huge place to have fun with their most talented best friend. Everyone's perfectly singing along to every lyric, breathing to each punctuation, and screaming at the top of their lungs.

Honestly speaking, he was having fun, and boy, he could sing along to a few songs while waving with his light-up bracelet. 

Aside from being fascinated by the live performances, he would sometimes steal glances at you, making him amused by your kaleidoscope of emotions you've shown from the past eight performances. Sometimes you'd turn to him just to sing while holding your chest, and go back to screaming how much you love Taylor Swift.

After the succeeding crowd-jumping performances, Taylor comes out with her black Gibson acoustic guitar to perform an acoustic version of her song just like the old days. The crowd has once again roared, and you scoot close to Wonwoo to whisper that Taylor's going to sing your favorite song from 1989.

He knows the story behind it. You told him on your graduating year at the rooftop of your college building while chugging an energy drink just to keep yourself awake from pulling off an all-nighter for your thesis, it was about Taylor’s known actress friend falling in love with her producer on this album—someone with the name Jack—if he could still guess correctly.

Taylor has already ascended for a clearer sight of crowds from the top seats, instructing everyone to sing back the specific words. Wonwoo watches you hugging yourself while craning your neck so you could see Taylor from above.

One look, dark room

Meant just for you

Time moved too fast

You play it back

Buttons on a coat

Light-hearted joke

No proof, not much

But you saw enough

  You and Wonwoo first met at the same elective during college freshman year. You were sitting near the door, sparing the next seat with your bag since someone from your class politely asked you to but unfortunately, she never came back and it was perfectly timed that Wonwoo immediately spotted the vacant seat beside you, exhausted from running before he gets late (yes, in a goddamn first day of class). 

  He learned that you’re taking up creative writing that’s why said elective was important for your course. He told you that he was taking up computer science, but he still needs to take the elective.

  ...and then, your friendship started.

  You have friends, but they’re few for your liking because socializing is exhausting. Wonwoo, on the other hand, despised being exhausted around people and that’s the reason why both of you became friends quickly. Reading was Wonwoo’s stress escape and yours was binge-watching k-dramas and reality shows.

  You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love

You are in love

  Since both of you chose to live in dormitories at college, sometimes you’d walk together around the university park late at night and talk about stuff happening in your life outside academics. One time, you told him how you’re pissed at your family’s insights about coming out since they happened to share once about how your cousin came out at a family gathering and the next moment, he was already in the hot seat. You told Wonwoo that you wished you were there to end all of your religious hypocrite relatives.

  Wonwoo, within the years of friendship, was never the type to initiate a conversation, but he’s an excellent listener. He could watch you talk about Taylor Swift, the perennial hate for your Major professor who’s academia-obsessed since she sets a standard too high for her liking while her class is on the brink of dropping out, and how you were fascinated about him staying up all night for computer games and still ace programming exams.

  Suddenly, the crowd started to roar out of the blue, making him shake his head from spacing out. Still standing, much to his surprise since he hates getting tired, he realized that he’s just watching you being helplessly in awe at Taylor Swift no matter how neck-stiffening it is, how your eyes sparkled with bliss just like the days when you talk with him about the things you love.

  And then he felt the pace of his heartbeat quickened.

  The crowd was already singing along with excitement—he has no idea what kind of reason it is—but he remains watching you like you were excruciatingly hard to reach, despite how you could hear his loud heartbeat if this was an empty place.

  One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says “You're my best friend”

And you knew what it was

He is in love

  You screamed you’re my best friend at the top of your lungs together with other sixty thousand people at Taylor despite how your best friend, who’s silently watching beside you, couldn’t calm himself down unnoticed.

  You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love

  Suddenly, you turn to Wonwoo as Taylor does her guitar break before singing the bridge, and you were surprised to see him just staring at you instead of watching Taylor from up above and tell you how skilled she was at playing guitar. The way he’s looking at you wasn’t even judging, teasing, or the usual antics that he does.

  He’s just looking at you fondly and you thought maybe, he’s extremely happy that you get to see your longtime idol live after all these years and you deserved it so much.

  ...except that your tentative guess is incorrect.

  “She’s really good, isn’t she?” you yelled at him proudly while pointing at Taylor with emphasis.

  Your best friend could only nod and gesture at you to look back on your idol.

  And so it goes

You two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round

And he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown

And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words

  That made Wonwoo look up to Taylor Swift in an instant and judged her as he could so. As Taylor stopped, the crowd screamed once again, but nothing is deafening as his heartbeat while watching you cheer in chorus.

  He didn’t know if he should feel betrayed, because you were his partner during graduation ball and you were just having the best time of your lives because fuck it, despite being anxious about what’s to come after the graduation, both of you were so happy to have been able to survive despite the shit hole life your university has given.

  He also happened to frame a picture of you in his office peacefully sitting beside the stacks of scratch papers for software development. He secretly requested for its original copy at the official student publication of your university during that one major event as he saw it on Facebook.

  He realized that he’s in love with you after all this time.

  Much to his misfortune, you suddenly looked at him again and your eyes met that he couldn’t look away, but this time it was replaced with worry. You caught him twice, and knowing Wonwoo, he’s not usually vocal when it comes to express his discomfort.

  You gently hold Wonwoo’s hand. “Are you having a bad feeling? We could go out if you want to,” you whispered just audible enough for him to hear.

  And that’s how he lost it. 

  It took him another deep breath to sink in that you chose his well-being over your once-in-a-lifetime moment with your idol.

  Like… holy shit, he was so lucky to have you in his life and he thought this time, he wants to step out of his shell and gather the courage to tell you how much you mean to his life. He’s had enough secretly pining over you for years.

  But first, he wants you to be happy and enjoy your time with Taylor. He shakes his head no and holds your shoulders to turn to Taylor who’s now descending for the next performance.

                      “I can’t believe she’s real, what the hell, she was fucking real, Wonwoo.” you sighed. “Oh my god.”

  You couldn’t stop wiping your face after spacing out which made Wonwoo chuckle. After the concert and almost a painful hour of waiting to get out of the stadium, you mutually agreed to stop by the nearest convenience store.

  Although you only bought a coffee and went back inside Wonwoo’s car.

  “Me too.” Wonwoo whispers. That made you remember what happened during You Are In Love performance. You looked at him and tapped his shoulder.

  “You looked unwell this evening. Were you honestly okay, Wons?” you ask.

  He only blinked in response.

  It took Wonwoo a few seconds to gather up his courage. Now that it’s only the two of you alone, he thought he must let it out.

  “Yeah, I was just overwhelmed. You don’t have to worry.” he jokes, his attention remained at the store. He could see from his peripherals how your eyebrows furrowed, obviously not convinced enough by his excuse.

  “What you told me about Taylor the first time you introduced her to me was...true,” he sighed deeply. “She sings what we couldn’t put into words.”

  For someone like Wonwoo whose eloquence is something to look up to, you were confused by what he meant.

  Wonwoo turns to face you and takes your icy palms to wrap them with his large, slender, and warm ones. 

  “I love you.” He says, straightly looking into your eyes.

  Your eyes widen in surprise.

  “Please don’t joke around!” You hit his shoulder, but all he does is let out a burst of breathy laughter.

  But honestly, your heart skipped a beat after hearing his sudden confession.

  Tracing circles on your hand, Wonwoo smiles at your bewildered expression. “You were wondering if I was having a bad time? No, it’s all Taylor’s fault for making me confess to you tonight. That took me a long time I guess.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “I love you and Taylor made me realize that I should confess before it gets too late.”

  You looked up at Wonwoo while pulling your hand from his gentle hold and laughed. It was unbelievable how both of you have been painfully oblivious despite being helplessly pining towards each other.

  It was your best friend’s turn to get puzzled so you took the time advantage to confess.

  “Idiot, I liked you too, ever since we first met.” sounding bashful, you looked away hoping that you didn’t sound like an idiot. So much irony for making fun of your best friend a few moments ago. “I have no idea that you felt deeper than I thought I have.”

  Even if you already knew how Wonwoo’s mind works for five years, he is always full of surprises.

  Or maybe he was so happy tonight that he kissed your hand and never let go of it as he started driving you home.

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt au #DOOD MY FUCKEN HEART I CANT #stream ready to love everyone #lf: heaven's cloud stans #kpop fiction #kiwistories

[kyloswarstars]

ROOMMATES • Part 9

Divergent • College AU • Eric x Reader

ROOMMATES masterlist 💫 Divergent masterlist

You escaped your current living situation by moving in with your friend Christina – and five other college students. Little did you know that one of them was the guy who was your ultimate pain in the neck since your first semester. Now, you had to find a way to not strangle him in his sleep out of pure frustration. Also, you had to find a way to get rid of those weird butterfly feelings for him that slowly grew in your stomach.

Words • 4.7k

The enemies to lovers story no one needed.

/////

Waking up the next morning, you didn’t immediately realise in what bed you had slept. You had to turn around for a couple of times to notice the first foreign but very captivating scent. That smell had evolved to be your favorite sent over the last couple of weeks. Eric.

You opened your eyes. Stared at the wall, the wrong side of the wall. Eric’s bed. It was his bed you had slept in. You turned around and were glad he wasn’t there. By the way you were wrapped up in his blanket and totally claimed it as yours, he might just surrendered to losing his territory and went to sleep in your bed instead. Your feet tried to kick yourself free and stopped for a moment before you got out of Eric’s bed.

He held your hand as if his life depended on it. He didn’t do anything else and he didn’t say a word. All he did was grab onto it, brush your thumb and lay next to you for the time it took you to fall asleep.

With a smile on your lips you stood up, carefully opened the door a crack and observed the hallway. Clear air, so you rushed to your room. Your bed was empty. The new semester only started next week so he couldn’t be in class – where was he?

You changed into new clothes, took care of your morning routine and couldn’t stop thinking about where Eric had vanished to when you sat down at the dining table. All of your roommates were still gathered there and enjoyed their bowls of cereal.

„Are you ready for our beach day, Y/N?“ Uriah flopped down in the chair across from yours, which felt incredibly wrong because it was Eric’s spot.

You still returned his smile and asked what he meant.

„We just decided today is the day! After we didn’t manage it all summer to have a day at the beach, we wanna use the perfect weather today. Are you coming?“ You vaguely remembered Tris suggesting a day at the beach with all roommates. And that everyone was all for it – except you, which you didn’t express in words to them. Nothing had changed about that, though.

Uriah was smiling so brightly at you and the fun you possibly would have with them made you nod. „Sure, I’ll come.“

„We are all going,“ Uriah sang and darted into his room.

You didn’t want to reveal yourself by asking if ‚all‘ included Eric who wasn’t there right now. You also didn’t stand not knowing, so instead of asking them you texted Eric if he would be coming to the beach gathering as well.

He replied a minute later.

You bet your ass

The memory of your hand in his shortly banned the beach situation. And a being half naked in a bikini situation. Until Christina threw an orange skin at you to get your attention.

„Y/N, pack your swimming stuff, we’re heading off in fifteen.“ She pushed her chair under the table and left for her and Will’s room as well. Swimming. You abandoned your cereal bowl and followed after her, asking Will to give you a minute alone with Christina in their room. He left with a smile.

„What’s up?“ She asked while rummaging through her closet.

„I…“, you started but nothing else came out. You were nervous, could feel sweat building on your forehead. You hadn’t been swimming nor showed yourself in a bikini publicly since that specific night had happened.

Christina stopped searching and turned to you. When she saw you fumbling with your trembling fingers, she came over. „Are you okay?“

„There’s a lot you don’t know yet.“

„That’s okay, you don’t know everything about me either. What’s wrong?“

You shook your head. It had took you months to take off your shirt in front of Peter. It was strange that you had been mentally more ready to sleep with him than reveal your chest. That came long after. You had always kept a shirt on until you pushed yourself to ignore the insecurities one day. Logically, the thought of having sex with someone must’ve disturbed you more than getting naked. In reality that just hadn’t been the case. Revealing your torso had been the hardest thing ever. Because it showed everyone who saw it, if you wanted or not, that something had happened. And you found that not every random stranger deserved a look or even an explanation to your past.

Christina carefully shook you with a hand on your shoulder to get your attention once more. You had drifted off.

„Insecurities,“ you just said. Pushing out the thoughts running through your mind was impossible.

„Do you even have a bikini?“

You shook your head under her stare. Chris went back to her closet and fished a simple, black bikini out. „There you go,“ she shoved it in your hands. „And remember: every body is a beach body.“

Her efforts of easing your ‚insecurities‘ were sweet. You just wished you had the guts to tell her here and there that it was little bit more than ‚just’ those stupid body issues a woman was facing nowadays. With a smile you left for your room and stared at the bikini in your hands.

There was no way you would actually dress down to that thing at the beach. Just for the worst case scenario, to be prepared if shit would go down, you pulled on the bikini under your clothes. Maybe you would get away with just sitting at the beach or only going in the water with your feet. But if one of your roommates would drown and you were the only person left at the beach to help them not to, you would thank yourself for being able to shed your normal clothes and make it faster to them with proper swimwear.

You shoved some other necessities and a big towel to sit on in your backpack and waited in the living area for everyone to head out. The tension subsided once you sat next to Uriah in Christina’s backseat and her car started on the way to the beach. Will was next to her in the passenger seat and Tris and Four were taking Four’s car.

Will mentioned that Eric let him know he had gotten all the things and was waiting at the beach already. When you arrived there you knew what he meant. Eric had rammed a sun umbrella into the sand, a very crooked one, it looked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. He had spread a couple of blankets and a barbecue grill, along with a big cooler was placed next to it.

„You, Eric, are my favorite person of all times,“ Uriah shouted when you got to the blankets. He was almost jumping up and down in excitement.

Eric’s eyes were glued on you, yours on his. You looked down at his hand you held for who knew how long last night. He only smiled when he noticed your stare and waved at you.

Chris and Tris dragged you down to the blankets, between them. They ordered Eric to get some beer out of the cooler and he did as he was told. When everyone was served a can and had opened it, Christina got to her feet for a toast. „I would like to make a toast to our new-not-so-new-anymore roommate, Y/N. Thank you for always paying your rent on time and your future help with my statistics class as soon as the new semester starts.“

You laughed at her, with her. She was the purest friend you ever had.

„To Y/N,“ everyone repeated and, with some burning cheeks, you toasted with them and then downed your beer in one long go. It didn’t do much for the nervousness that had come back as soon as you stepped out of the car.

„Cool,“ Christina said. „Now, let’s go swimming.“ She beamed at Tris and pulled both of you to your feet.

No. You watched them get out of their clothes so carelessly. They stripped down to their bikinis and you… you just froze. Your arms were pressed to your sides, your eyes were staring right through them. You were probably looking like a complete fool. You were a fool. You were–

„Y/N?“

„I can’t,“ you almost shouted it out only to cover your mouth right after, startled by your own voice.

„The water is warm. You have a body, so you also have a beach body. It’s just us. We won’t judge, you know that.“ Tris was once again extremely sensitive and that made you realise that not only Chris had become a very good friend but Tris as well.

„That’s not it,“ you bit your lip. You shut your eyes. You were only facing them, the guys sitting behind you. You were nervous. Were they listening in on the situation? Was Eric? Or were they drinking their beer, not even caring? Would Tris and Christina back down and just let you sit there at the beach – in your clothes? Probably not, but they would understand if you tried explaining, right? „There is something on my chest.“

„Two boobs,“ Chris tried to loosen the situation which actually caught you off guard and made you chuckle. It relaxed you a little.

„Yeah but no. Everyone who sees it would have a million questions about it and I don’t want to answer them.“

„Then we don’t ask questions.“ Christina stated that as a fact.

You were stepping on your spot, your palms sweaty and your ears didn’t hear the chatting of the guys anymore. They had caught up on your exchange. Gladly, they were facing your back.

„Come on, Y/N. Make yourself free,“ Tris started to cheer you on.

„Have fun with us in the water,“ Chris joined in.

They were both starting to jump a little and then made you dance with them to no music. They were jumping up and down, ignoring the stares from people around you. They just didn’t care for them. Your friends were beaming at you, they made you feel comfortable and save within their presence. And you allowed yourself to let loose instead of forcing yourself.

They boosted your confidence with their own insouciance so much that you stopped caring for what ifs or who could hear your words or see your chest. Since that one night you had managed to accomplish so much. Nothing had held you back, no flashbacks, no pleads to stay in Florida, no people – even though that had took some time. This stupid scar on your chest shouldn’t either. Not anymore. The world was yours and you were perfectly unperfect, just like everyone else. And today, you wanted to have fun.

„Fuck it.“

Within a few seconds you peeled yourself out of your shorts first and then lifted the hem of your shirt over your head. You tried to do it fast so you wouldn’t backpedal. Your breathing stopped when Tris and Christina stopped dancing around you.

They stared right at the big scar on your sternum. They saw it. It possibly caused them to think all the terrible things people would think when seeing such a poorly healed, hypertrophic scar. And they smiled. They smiled at you with the biggest of smiles in the smile-universe. They didn’t question it, just as Chris had said.

Christina cupped your face to make sure that this time she had your full attention. „You, Y/N, are the most beautiful human bean on this planet.“ She gave you a tickling kiss on the tip of your nose and then dragged you, together with Tris, down to the water.

And you had fun. FUN. So much fun in the water. You splashed the water around you, were a kid again for ten minutes and tried to push all the waves to your friends. You dove under the surface just like the penguins you had observed with Eric at the zoo. Christina and Tris made you float with them, pushed you under and then surrendered when you threatened to do the same with them.

Letting loose felt incredible. Would have you expected to do so this morning? No. Did you want to do it more often now? Absolutely.

The water was filling your ears, drowning out all the people sounds as you floated on the surface. The sun kissed your skin, lit up every cell of your body and made you live.

Sometimes, when doing things that seemed so big, so scary, and then successfully accomplishing them, your brain couldn’t recall anymore why it had been so hard in the first place. Like all the reasons that had prevented you from doing the thing were suddenly not seizable anymore. Puffed into thin air. Sometimes, it would be really helpful to get to that realisation before the thing you were so scared of held you back from simple joys such as swimming in the water.

Eventually, you got out of the water with Christina and Tris. You rushed after them to the roommate gathering and grabbed the towel from your backpack to dry your hair some. Within that movement you caught someones eyes.

He stared at your chest, his expression totally unreadable, and his eyes found yours. You delicately wrapped the towel around your shoulders to hide your chest. Eric’s glance was so demanding that you just couldn’t sit down. A million questions were popping up in his eyes and you were close to feeling uncomfortable again but then you decided not to be. You just decided. You found out that you could decide how to feel. And then you smiled because today you had learned more than one lesson. When Eric smiled back, you finally sat down and enjoyed being at this beach.

You decided to shed your insecurities for today and breathed the sea breeze as if it was Florida air and that night had never happened.

/////

A delicious barbecue, a lot of swimming and a couple of beers later, the sun slowly began to set. The roommate gathering collectively decided to break it off and head home for a good old living area bender.

„I’ll ride with Eric,“ Uriah stated and was almost at his car.

Eric was packing things up in his trunk and shook his head. „Sorry, but my passenger seat belongs to Y/N.“

„Okayyyy.“ Uriah turned around to you and smiled mischievously.

You shut your eyes in embarrassment of your other roommates stares. No problem, you told yourself, took a deep breath and quickly got into Eric’s passenger seat. He came to sit next to you a second later. „What are you waiting for then?“ You gestured to his steering wheel. „Drive.“

And so he did. He pulled out of the parking lot and started on the way home. You just didn’t get far. You got stuck in traffic pretty soon, unable to drive around, turn to a side or reverse. Cars were everywhere and… oranges on the ground. Oranges were everywhere. For a second, just to make sure this was not an option, you looked up at the sky to see if there was an odd occasion of orange hail. That was not the case, though. A big truck was blocking the street way ahead of you – that must’ve been the orange source.

You heard some smacking to your right. When you turned, you saw Eric peeling a big orange and shoving one piece after another in his mouth. „'ant one?“ His question was mumbled with all of the orange slices bloating up his cheeks.

The sight made you laugh and for a second you wondered if it was stealing that Eric had picked the orange from the street. But then you just shrugged, reached out and got a piece yourself.

He tossed the skin out of the window and turned the radio on. Only bullshit music on, so he turned it off again after thirty seconds. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, you pulled your bare feet up to the dashboard and rolled your window down and up and down and up and down.

„Do you think this will take long?“ You were maybe stuck for five minutes only and your patience was wearing thin already.

„I don’t know.“ Eric’s patience didn’t seem to the best as well. He rested his head against the steering wheel. Before your hand could develop a mind of its own and reach for Eric’s, he sat up and looked at you with an Eureka expression. „Truth or dare?“

„You’re first,“ you immediately replied, thankful to be able to do something, only to realise a second later that playing truth or dare with Eric probably wasn’t the best idea.

„Dare,“ he chose.

It might wasn’t the best idea but you could at least make it as hard as possible. „Touch your elbow with your tongue.“

„Y/N,“ Eric gasped but this time it was real consternation. „That is anatomically impossible.“

You winked. „I know. Point for me.“

„So we’re cheating? Fine. Truth or dare?“ He turned in the drivers seat and rested his back on the door, but not without taking an attempt to touch his elbow with the tip of his tongue. Just to make sure it was really impossible.

„Dare,“ you said unafraid but still a little distracted by watching his tongue.

A devilish grin spread on his face in the sunset glow. Holy shit did he look pretty. „Compliment the most handsome person you see,“ Eric said as if he had read your thoughts. He even pointed at his own chest, to make you laugh.

You had no oomph to make it an easy win for him – or to admit how attractive he was. There were a lot of people around, you were stuck in a damn traffic jam. A deep laugh escaped your body.

„Watch this,“ you pushed out between laughs, rolled down your window and waved to a guy in the car next to Eric’s. He rolled down his window as well, when he saw you waving at him. With full volume you shouted over: „Just wanted to let you know that your tires are sick!“ You pointed at them and he just nodded with a knowing smile.

The whole car started shaking with the fit of laughter you had sent Eric in. His voice was roaring in your ears and it activated those butterflies in your stomach again. It made you feel warm, so warm that you couldn’t stop smiling anymore. „Two points for me I think,“ you stated already in triumph because this game was all yours to win. „Truth or dare? Or are you giving up already?“

„Never!“ A hand clasped onto his belly to stop the pain in his muscles the laughing must’ve caused. „Truth then.“ He leaned closer instead of back against the door again.

That was your chance. „Why did you take those classes, Eric.“ You didn’t form the question with a question mark at the end. You wanted to know, your face serious, and this time he couldn’t just brush it off. „And don’t lie! Truth or dare rules apply.“

His cheerful mood dropped within a second, reflecting your own seriousness. „I first took them with the thought of possibly solving some of the problems I was facing. I knew there had been more strategies than only the medical way. And then I saw you.“ His eyes locked with yours. In the setting sunlight they almost seemed to glow just like his skin. He was orange like the fruits on the asphalt. He was beaming and it made you nervous but for once it was the good, anticipating nervousness. „You initiated all of those mind-blowing debates and no-one seemed to fully understand on what level they were on. Your cleverness slipped over all of their heads and I couldn’t let that continue. And I enjoyed it thoroughly to debate with you. So there was no way I could stay away for long. Even after I had found a good amount of knowledge in that classes that helped me with my project.“

Your throat went dry with his words and the way his glance softened but also got more intense. The butterflies collected around your heart, made it speed up. „And why always pissing me off?“

Eric leaned a little closer once more and flashed a grin. „You’re cute when you get angry at me.“ Fuck. The butterflies made your heart stop because they ripped it right out of your chest and placed it in front of Eric. But he didn’t seem to notice or decided not to pick it up.

Eric tried to break that tense moment but not your eye contact. „Truth or dare, Y/N?“ He asked and you didn’t care for winning this lethal game anymore, yet you answered.

„Truth.“

„What happened?“ Two words from his lips and all the remaining, unsaid words were provided by his eyes.

„My scar?“ You had to make sure that this time, you were reading him right. He nodded.

That liberating feeling you had felt at the beach today suddenly flooded through your veins again. Somehow letting loose had been the key. „Life isn’t always sunshine and rainbows.“ Even though you decided to tell Eric and that his reaction or questions couldn’t throw you out of track, you still closed your eyes for a moment. His stares were intense but so where the nearing flashbacks that came with the words which would describe how you got that scar.

Before you opened your eyes you heard the seat’s leather squeak when Eric moved. He had gotten, again, closer and would’ve been able to close the gap between your sides if he moved another inch in your direction. He didn’t close it and you just looked back in his eyes. The way he was talking about his past in the zoo came back to your mind and it eased you in opening up about yours. „Life is harsh. And people are not nice all the time. People can get very angry at times when they don’t get what they want.“ Instead of pictures before your eyes from that night, this threatening feeling of being hunted creeped in your muscles. You decided to ignore it, to be stronger than that feeling because it was only a memory. And a memory wasn’t the actual thing itself.

You sighed. „Someone wanted something and I didn’t want to give it to them. They decided that my rejection was unforgivable. That it justified hurting me.“ You didn’t see that disgusting smile in front of your eyes but you could hear the bewildered cursing. For a second you smiled at Eric but you didn’t know if you did in sadness or relief. „Turned out they only knew very little about the human anatomy. I don’t recommend stabbing someone into the sternum from above. It won’t work out too well because the blade gets stuck and you get caught and you have to face more than a bloody rejection.“

For a while it was quiet. The cars around you didn’t move, just like you in your seat. Or Eric. His hand was close to grab yours but instead of doing so you heard him speak.

„Can I see it again?“

„I’m not gonna undress in front of you,“ you whispered – in real consternation.

„Please, Y/N.“ He was super serious. Eric had never been so serious. Ever. „I need to see it from a doctors point of view.“

„You are no doctor yet.“

His frustrated groan made you think over and over why it was so important for him. It was okay that he didn’t respond anything to your story. To be honest you hadn’t expected a response because what should someone say to this? Maybe ‚glad that bastard got what he fucking deserved‘?

Eric didn’t stop rubbing his face and seemed more agitated than you were. „Damn, fine,“ you exclaimed. With a quick look out of the windows you checked the people around you. No-one in the other cars cared what happened in this specific car. You pulled down the collar of your shirt to reveal the scar. The fabric was tight when you held it down because you never wore shirts or tops with a deep cleavage.

He observed the big scar that looked more like splash of paint instead of a blade wound. It wasn’t uncomfortable to reveal it as you imagined it would be. It was… natural. Eric looked at it from different angles and was suddenly startled by himself when he realised he had almost touched it without your consent. He quickly removed his hand as you let go of your collar and the shirt went back into its original shape.

„I mean…,“ he started and it took a few more seconds for his eyes to divert from your shirt to your own eyes. „Christina was absolutely right, you know.“

„With what?“

„That you are the most beautiful human being on this planet.“

That was the exact moment when you felt your body spiralling out of control and leaning in. You leaned in. To kiss him. Your body got closer to his, closed the gap Eric had left. Probably for you to decide if you wanted or hated it being there. Your heart deafened your hearing. You couldn’t hear bis breathing, when his nose touched yours. You only heard: „No. Stop it.“

„I didn’t start,“ Eric whispered, not moving away from your face.

It had been your own voice that told you to fucking stop yourself. „I know. I’m talking to myself, Eric.“ Still, you lingered exactly where you were. You just couldn’t remove yourself.

Eric swallowed and bit down on his lip. His head was micro-shaking. „I’m not gonna kiss you if you don’t want me too.“ He swallowed again. It must’ve taken him all of the self-control someone could muster up. You sensed his hands clenched into fists, still he didn’t move away yet to relieve the pressure he was under. For you it wasn’t any different, though. He was being so damn understanding that your heart wanted to explode in your chest. And still something held you back.

What was holding you back? You couldn’t grab it. Was it the time you still needed? No, you didn’t need more time. Was it the insecurities? No, he accepted you they way you were and not even your dumb, always misunderstanding brain could believe anymore that Eric didn’t care for you in some sort of way. Was it the fear of falling for him, right into him like that meteor, that let dinosaurs die out by falling down to the earth? Because you knew deep down that falling for Eric would be just like that. It would have such an impact on you that you would still feel it fifty years later. You didn’t know if you were ready for that.

You didn’t know if you could fall for someone again only to find out that you weren’t meant to be with them.

You couldn’t kiss him.

You ripped yourself from him, crashed back into the passengers door and breathed in deeply because you hadn’t done that in over a minute. You stared at him, could feel the tears burn in your eyes and felt so, so incredibly dumb.

Self-protection was one thing but this was close to the border of self-destruction. And you couldn’t escape it. You were stuck with Eric in this car, in a stupid orange jam and all you wanted to do was kiss him but the sheer thought of loving someone again freaked you out to the point where your brain won the fight over your feelings. And it left you sitting in his passenger seat with a burning face and your nails digging into the palm of your hands.

/////

Taglist • @longlostinanotherworld • @dosentier • @dhunhdchrih • @coryisagee • @liiinetti

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