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writerpetals · 1 month
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home | ❤️
; optional male lead fluff |  ☁️
“Okay, are you ready?”
“Ready…”
“One…”
“...two…”
“...three!”
You click the spacebar on your laptop to begin playing the movie to sync up to his own DVD playing on his TV from the other side of the world. The two of you are experts at this by now, figuring out down to the second where to pause and press play to be able to watch your favorite movies together. With your phone snug between your cheek and the pillow, you pull your blankets up to your chin as the movie begins to play on the laptop resting in front of you, and hearing his chuckling, humming, or even his breathing almost makes it feel as if he were right there with you.
Almost.
Of course, you can’t have his arms around you or rest your head on his chest, but you can only do so much to feel like a couple when he has a busy life traveling and you’re stuck in your apartment working on editing videos for your job, preparing projects and meeting deadlines to keep your boss happy. Movie nights are now reserved for weekend mornings for you, and breaks in his schedules for him when he can find time to watch at least half a film with you.
You’re thankful he makes such an effort, allowing you to pick out your favorite movie the two of you have watched a hundred times before, and humor you by following along when you begin to quote your favorite scenes and giggle at all the best parts.
“Next time we don’t even have to play the movie,” he begins to tease, and hearing his deep, sleepy voice on the other end of the phone eases every ounce of tension in your body, “you can just quote all the parts for me and it will be just as good.”
“Hush,” you giggle, and then you tell him, “you know I love this movie.” And you only love the movie so much when he is so many miles away because it reminds you of when you first met, when he barely had any money to take you to see the film, but he insisted on the two of you going regardless.
“Mm,” he hums, and you can tell from the hint of a few slurred words he’s growing tired already, “and I love you.” Of course he always grows a bit more sentimental when the day has been too long and he’s ready to sleep the stress away, and he reminds you often that listening to your voice only puts him even more at ease.
“Are you falling asleep on me already?” you ask, words no higher than a whisper and the two of you are hardly paying attention to the movie at this point.
“It’s midnight here,” he says with a yawn, and you can picture his squished face the moment you hear him stretching. It’s bittersweet imagining him snuggled up in bed with the hotel’s TV being the only source of light in the room, his phone in one hand and his heavy lids failing him as he tries to keep them open.
“You can sleep if you want,” you sigh, reaching to check the timer on the bar to see only thirty minutes have passed. “I’m sure your day is busy tomorrow.”
You can only guess as much when he’s hours ahead of you, knowing time differences sometimes get in the way of even your long distance movie nights.
“I wanna talk to you,” he assures you, but it’s more mumbled and a bit more sleepy. You know he won’t last much longer, and typically one of you ends up falling asleep with the other still on the line. Not that you mind too much, because it’s second best to getting to fall asleep wrapped up in his arms.
“You need your rest.”
“But-”
You call his name, feigning a strict, stern tone that has him chuckling. “Text me when you wake up.”
“I’ll call you.”
“I’ll be sleeping,” you remind him, just in case he manages to get extra sleep somehow, “send me a picture instead.”
He agrees with sleepy laughter spilling from his lips, says his goodnight’s and I love you’s, and your heart aches just a little more for him the moment you hang up the phone.
***
Hours pass before your phone buzzes with a new message, or at least one you bother checking, while you have your computer, headphones, and different hard drives spread around you on your bed. You pull your nose from your laptop and the video you have been editing  to check his text with a complementary picture of his sleepy face just as you asked. The widest grin grows on your face taking in his pouty, pink lips and messy hair as he rests against his white pillow case. He’s never looked more inviting, finding yourself wishing you could somehow teleport to his bed in that moment just to hold him close.
“Thanks for the pic,” you tell him the moment he picks up your call, listening to him mumbling something into the receiver. “Are you brushing your teeth?”
“Mhm,” he hums, placing images of his sleepy face and toothpaste covering his mouth in your head. A moment later you hear the sounds of water running as he finishes up, a grin growing on your lips as the two of you enjoy doing the simplest of tasks with the other on the line. “Did I interrupt your work?”
“You know me too well,” you admit with a chuckle.
“Mm, then I know you probably haven’t eaten, right?”
“I’m going to,” you tell him, only lying a little. “Right after I finish cutting up this video and-”
“You can’t forget to eat.” His tone is low and a bit more stern, and it makes you grin from how concerned he is over nothing.
“I didn’t forget,” you sigh, falling back onto your pillows as he chuckles in disbelief.
“Okay, well promise me-” Another voice suddenly echoes through the speaker from far away, assuming someone must be needing him so soon. “I’ll call you back, okay?”
“Mhm,” you hum, completely used to conversations cutting short by now. The two of you are quick with your goodbyes and then you’re back to editing, the familiar ache in your heart growing as your thoughts become carried away in the moment. Rushed phone calls and missed messages begin to build as the weeks pass without him, and even though you try your best to be understanding, it’s hard to deny the emptiness surrounding you when he’s gone.
It doesn’t take long to get lost in your videos once again, attempting to drown out the worries and lonesomeness by finishing the part of the edit you had been working on, and you only pull your eyes from the bright screen when you hear a knock at your door. With a furrowed brow and pursed lips, you slip from your bed to answer, coming face to face with a younger boy holding up a brown paper bag, a grin on his lips and a receipt in the other hand.
It’s definitely not the first time he has surprised you by ordering food for you himself. After all, he’s so determined to make sure you aren’t missing any meals, and you only wish you could return the favor in taking care of him while he’s away.
***
“Have a good day?” You can already tell by the heaviness in his eyes as he looks through the laptop camera the answer to your question. Of course he would never admit it, always pretending he’s fine just so you won’t worry, but it’s clear as he struggles to stay awake after snuggling into the comfort of the hotel bed that he’s beyond exhausted, yet determined to keep his promise by video chatting as soon as he’s done with schedules and showered.
“Of course,” he says with a sleepy grin, batting his eyes a few times and each blink lasts longer than the last as he attempts to peel his lids open.
“You can sleep if you want,” you giggle with your own laptop on the pillow beside you as you lay in bed, even though it’s only the early afternoon in your part of the world. The curtains are shut and the only light remains a dim glow from the lamp on your bedside table, but it feels nearly as good as if he were right there next to you. “I can see you’re two blinks from fully passing out anyway.”
“Not true,” he says, and then yawns before his head falls to one side, “I’m awake, I’m talking to you, I’m happy.”
“Uh huh.” You narrow your eyes to make a face at him, watching him chuckle, and his face lights up just a bit when you stick your tongue out at him. “I can think of something to keep you awake… how about you take off that robe you’re wearing.” With that, you wink, and his laughter grows louder before looking to his right to make sure his roommate isn’t done with his shower yet.
“I’m starting to think you only love me for my body,” he tells you as he begins to pout, causing you to giggle.
“C’mon, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
“I don’t think we have enough time.” Laughter falls from his lips before he sighs, and the sleepiness in his body sets in as the two of you say your good night’s, I love you’s, and you refrain from telling him just how much you miss not being able to fall asleep next to him.
***
Later that night you find yourself in your vanity mirror after just having washed up, making faces with a kitten filter on your phone as you take pictures to send to him. Each one earns more giggles, and you end up sending three different pictures with kitten ears in your bathrobe until you’re satisfied. You hope he will enjoy your silliness when he awakens in the morning, finding the messages you send to one another before and after sleep another way to remain close.
You head to bed early that night with an aching heart anticipating receiving a message in return in the morning, and you admit to yourself sometimes it’s the only thing getting you through your day. When you miss him, miss his voice so close and miss his touch as he holds you, the longing grows unbearable and time seems to pass slower the more you find yourself needing him.
Scheduling movie nights in the afternoon and video chats to pretend you’re falling asleep next to one another can only do so much, and eventually the ache in your chest, the loneliness, the desire to be close to him has a few tear drops hitting your pillow you never allow him to see. There’s no point in making it known just how much you miss him, so you pretend you're fine without him as you juggle work projects, videos, and presentations, and fall asleep with him as the last thing on your mind.
He spends another week overseas and it feels like forever without him, but the days are counting down to when you can feel his arms around you again. It’s the anticipation to see him after so long that gives you the strength to keep going, making each message, each phone call, each picture and video chat all the more exciting when you plan your first meal back together, your first movie, your first night out, and secretly to yourself, you imagine nothing but the feeling of his arms holding you close as you fall asleep against his chest.
It’s a Tuesday night when he sneaks into your apartment, spotting the familiar sight of you bundled up with your favorite blanket on the couch, laptop, hard drives, and memory cards scattered about, and the clock reads just past midnight as he presses his lips to your forehead. You’re the one that can hardly hold your eyes open after waiting hours for the news of his plane landing, but he says nothing as he plucks the cap from his head, peels his jacket from his body, and settles beneath the blanket with his head on your chest.
Without a word, you pull him close, smiling on the inside even though you’re still half-asleep and somehow it feels like a dream to finally have him so close. He can’t help but to reach for you, cold fingers slipping beneath your t-shirt as his palms take in the warmth of your body, and he leans in closer to press his lips against your own in a soft, sleepy kiss, and now you realize it’s not a dream.
He is with you, in your arms as you hold one another close, and now you’re both home.  
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writerpetals · 2 months
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be with you | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
// i was editing this to repost, but sometimes i just like to keep writing onto things that were supposed to just be drabbles.... so i wrote more to this one to make detailed and spicy. hehe hope you like it <3
When the week has been long and the stresses that overwhelm him have taken their toll, he loves nothing more than coming home to see you dressed up in an outfit that leaves close to nothing to the imagination. Your body against the soft sheets of the bed, inviting him closer while he tugs on a tie that had suddenly begun to suffocate him at just the sight of you. Your half-lidded eyes beg him to join you, to allow you to love him, pamper him, tend to his needs as he settles against the bed with his head hanging low from exhaustion.
“Baby,” you coo, positioning yourself on your knees to ease closer, loving arms wrapping around his neck from behind. “Relax. I’ll take care of you.”
The words are what he needs to hear most, eyes closing while allowing you to caress his shoulders tense with the frustrations that have been piling up. You lean closer, mouth drawing near his ear to nip at the sensitive lobe playfully, earning a groan in return while the tie he has been fidgeting with slips to the floor.
“Sweetheart,” he exhales the sweet name in a raspy tone, gentle fingers gripping the wrist resting on his shoulder to pull you closer, turning his face to meet your eyes, “you’re too good to me.”
Hiding your grin becomes difficult when he offers such praise, taking the moment to instead press your lips to his own needing affection in the gentlest forms when stress fills him. Your mouth lingers against his, burning the feeling of his skin on yours in your mind for the time being, loving how soft he could feel against you when you need him just the same.
“You deserve it,” you admit honestly after pulling away, hand reaching to begin popping a few buttons of his dress shirt loose. Your words are true, remembering all the times he went out of his way to care for you, pamper you, spoil you senseless. Giving your all to someone that has given even more is never difficult. “You take care of me when I need it most, so tonight I’m going to care for you.”
He has no intentions to protest, knowing he desires your love just as much, allowing you to take your time unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his bare chest after a few moments. Reaching to touch, fingertips graze over his heart, soft skin against your own, down his chest, teasing his stomach, noticing his muscles tense beneath your flesh before you reach to tug on the buckle of his belt.
Naturally, he falls back, body hitting the softness of clean linens and inviting you to straddle him while focusing on your task. His hands run through his hair, eyes never leaving you while watching you undress him, taking in the sight of you pulling on his belt before fumbling with the buttons and zipper of his slacks. A soft groan here and there fills the room whenever your hands brush over his hardening length, his need for release evident in the reaction to your most simple of touches.
“I want to make you feel good,” you confess after positioning his clothing to where only his briefs cover the thick, needy arousal bulging through a flimsy fabric. “I waited all week to be able to show you just how much you mean to me.”
“Sweetheart,” he repeats, calling for you to crawl up his body to reach his awaiting lips. The feeling of his skin against yours once more as he shows his appreciation through soft kisses has a shiver crawling down your spine, goosebumps forming over your skin and an ache settling between your legs.
The way his hands find your thighs on each side of him, gripping you tight to claim what is his, causes moans and whimpers to release against his flesh, electrifying both of your bodies. Once your hips begin to rock against him, slow enough to draw out a groan from deep within his chest, it only adds to the bliss, the anticipation, the excitement of having one another again after such a long week.
Gaining confidence, your kisses trail from his mouth to his jaw, pressing your lips over and over until you lower to his neck. Teeth scraping softly against his skin work him up enough to begin pushing his hips into you, allowing you to feel between your thighs just how much his composure begins to wear thin. He needs this, and he needs you.
“Patience, baby,” you giggle between kisses down his chest, smirking against his skin. The words only earn another groan, the second time out of a pure need to have you. “I need to make sure I take my time and ease all of your worries, tension, and stress.” By the time you're finished, your hands end up on his stiff length, teasing him through cotton to receive a gentle buck of his hips.
“I want to feel you, sweetheart,” he mutters, eyes closing and head falling back against the bed, “I want you to ride me.”
His words cause your heart to pound twice as hard, stomach filling with butterflies at how much the man before you desires your attention. Carefully, you ease off the bed, earning his gaze once again from the lack of your presence, until his teeth sink into his plump, bottom lip once your fingers hook into the straps of your lacy panties.
“I know, baby,” you tell him, hips swaying from side to side, teasing him with the sight of you removing your risque attire you wore only for him. As your panties pool around your feet, you reach behind you, turning toward him the moment your fingers unhook the clasp of your bra, peeking over your shoulder at the way his eyes lower to study the curve of your ass. You couldn’t help but to giggle, enjoying putting on the playful striptease for the moment.
But you knew it wouldn’t take much for him to lose control after you slipped the fabric from your shoulders, dropping the bra to the floor with a flick of your wrist, only for him to grip you by the hips and pull you closer with a squeak from your lips. Even though him pulling you against his body on the bed catches you off guard, you can’t say you’re surprised when his fingertips begin to brush over every curve of bare skin, finally getting to experience how good you feel in his hands before you would ease the tension of a stressful week. 
Before you would love him, tend to his needs, and show him how much he means to you. There’s no better feeling than being needed by the one you need most. Being desired. Being craved.
He makes it clear as you ease down onto his length, slower than he would like because he’s already so worked up. Every inch further into your heat earns a breathy groan, but his eyes never leave your body. His gaze explores you just as his hands had. The pressure of feeling so full of him gets the better of you in an instant, bracing yourself with palms on his stomach. 
“Ride my cock, baby,” he growls, hands tightening at your waist, “use me to feel good.”
Heat barrels into your chest from below at his words. He’s still thinking of you even though this night was supposed to be for him, yet you do as he says. You ride him just how you like, hitting the spots that make your legs tremble and from the look in his eyes you’re confident he loves it just as much. Loves seeing you on top of him, loves seeing the way your face twists as the pleasure takes hold.
“God, you feel so good inside me.” You’re not shy to give it right back, loving the noises he makes at any mention of how good he can make you feel. You rock against him a little faster, creating a delicious friction of skin against skin that has heat engulfing your body. You begin to shake from how deep he feels in this position, almost too much to handle as he begins pushing his hips into you from below. 
The familiar tug and warmth begins to take hold of your body. Every motion euphoric as you ride him to bliss, so overwhelmed while he whispers encouragements beneath you. 
“That’s my girl,” he groans, thrusting into you to match your rhythm. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel it.”
His words mixed with the bliss have you crying out his name. The first wave of pleasure bursts through you without warning, body doubling over to fall right into his arms. He holds you tight as you ride out the high, whimpering softly through the bliss, hips slowing but still feeling his long, deep thrusts beneath you. You’re shaking in his hold as you begin to come down, knowing watching you get off was as needed to him as his own release. 
Panting against his skin while he massages your back softly, slowly, you recover from the pleasure in no time. Once he senses you’re coming down, he gently guides your body to the body to slip between your legs. 
“Use me,” you whisper while repeating his own words, watching the surprise in his eyes. “Use my body however you like, and then come inside me.”
His nostrils flare as a deep groan builds in his chest, jaw tightening like he’s been starved forever. While he’s taking in your words, you guide him back toward your sensitive, dripping pussy. Taking him by the base of his cock and the other hand on his hip, you ease the tip inside of you, rising until he pushes himself all the way in. A gasp fills the room, suddenly so full of him again and so tender from coming hard. 
“Fuck me,” you whisper against his lips, inviting him so delicately to take all his stress, worries, and tension out on you. “Please…”
“God, sweetheart,” he growls, thrusting into you with a snap of his hips to earn another gasp, “you don’t know what you do to me.”
He rolls his body into you, thrusting himself deep and hard into your aching pussy. Your hips match his motion, arms wrapping around him to pull him close. Flesh against flesh, he fucks you just like that, getting lost in the moment, rhythm growing faster, harder, faster… until you’re crying out from pleasure all over again. He grunts, and groans, and tells you how good it feels, how wet you are, how you are all his.
Until he suddenly pulls away from you, falling back on his knees with a grip on your hips. He pulls your body up, one leg resting against his chest, the other fallen to the bed to give him the perfect view of his cock soaked in your juices slipping in and out of your cunt. He watches himself ease into you, taking things slower, drawing out the moment, then pulling back out to where only the tip is still inside. 
“Fuck, baby,” he exhales, one hand coming down on your mouth while his thumb toys with your clit. “I want to see you come again.”
You shiver at his words, not sure if you’re capable considering how overwhelming your first orgasm was while riding him.
“I don’t think I can…” you tell him honestly. Neither of you have ever been scared to speak your minds when you’re together, always feeling so comfortable and safe with one another. Conversations in the bedroom come as naturally as if they were over dinner, and you know you never have to shy away from him. 
“You can give me another, sweetheart.” He speaks gently while rocking his hips so softly it eases you into complete relaxation. He glides into you with a slow motion, settling there for a few seconds before pulling away. The thumb against your clit already has your legs shaking, sensitivity turning into full blown need once again. “Relax, concentrate. Focus on my cock in your sweet little pussy, baby. Feel my playing with your clit. Doesn’t it feel good?”
“Y-Yes…” Your eyes close, doing as he says and only paying attention to the sensation of him filling you over and over, the way he plays with your clit, how he tenderly strokes your thigh with his free hand. “It always… feels this good.” Your body melts into the bed, loving his slow, deep strokes of his cock and the easy way he plays with your clit. He has you aching between your legs in no time, the desire for release building with every second that passes. 
“It looks so fucking hot, too,” he groans, watching himself disappear inside of you once again. “God, baby, you’re so wet and I’m so fucking hard right now for you. You’re so beautiful like this, all spread out just needing me to fuck you.”
A surge of warmth barrels through you. You react to his words by squeezing yourself around him, so turned on once again, so hot and ready to come. 
“I love my girl like this,” he continues, picking up the pace a little, thrusting a little harder, circling your clit a little faster. “You’re such a good girl, baby. Come for me again.”
You’re gone by the time he stops speaking. The heat floods your body from between your thighs, the tension he so carefully built with his words and snapping as you cry out for him. Your body shakes as the pleasure takes hold, barely feeling him come closer to press himself against you. You ride out the bliss as his hips snap quick, desperate thrusts into you, fucking you fast, and hard until you’re both panting and gasping.
You come undone in each other’s arms, moans and whimpers filling the space. He spills inside of you, another wave of heat rushing through you until you can no longer think straight. His forehead falls to your own, riding out the bliss together before your bodies slow and it all becomes too overwhelming.
He pulls away to catch his breath, but he doesn’t let you go. He guides you to curl up next to him a moment before you both shower and clean each other up. His arm wraps around your body with your head in his neck, listening to each other’s breaths until they return to normal. Your body is spent from getting off twice, and his eyes are heavy after finally letting off steam after a long week. 
“Sweetheart,” he whispers, turning to press his lips to your forehead, “you’re too good to me.”
His words make you smile, running a hand up and down his chest as you fit so perfectly against him. 
“You spoil me,” you reply, offering a tired giggle. Now he’s the one smiling, placing another kiss, but against your lips this time. “Spoil me in the shower?” you suggest, making a full blown laugh bellow from this chest this time. 
“Absolutely,” he agrees, and you know there’s nowhere you would rather be after a long week than with him.  
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writerpetals · 3 months
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sweet good mornings | ❤️
; optional female lead fluff |  ☁️
You come home on the cold, winter mornings to find her curled up on the sofa, a book next to her on the coffee table and a hot cocoa mug that’s been empty for a while. It’s clear she attempted to stay up just to greet you when you arrived home from your night shift at work, but her own sleepiness got the better of her. The sight of her in a fuzzy, blue blanket draped over her frame as she breathes heavily into the soft couch cushion makes your lips turn in a grin, and if it wasn’t so cold on this particular morning, you wouldn’t want to wake her.
“Sweetheart?” you call for her, kneeling down beside her face as her eyelashes begin to flutter. “Did you fall asleep waiting for me to get home again?”
A sleepy smile spreads across her lips, and it makes your heart beat twice as fast as warmth floods your chest. “I couldn’t make it,” she admits before reaching her arms over her head to stretch. “Once the infomercials started playing I was out like a light. How was work?”
You giggle at her words with a shrug. “Same as always, taking care of sick patients and drinking too much coffee to keep myself awake.” Before you can say anything else, she’s leaning in to wrap her arms around you, nuzzling her face in your neck as you grip her by the waist. Suddenly, she’s shivering and pulling away with a giggle.
“Your hands are freezing!” She quickly pulls down her t-shirt that has ridden up over her sides, shivering once again now that she’s not under the warmth of her blankets.
“Sorry,” you tell her, chuckling. “Why don’t you go get in the bed while I shower? Then we can warm each other up.”
She grins at the thought while nodding her head. Though, before you can get away from her to take your shower, she’s quick to lean in and leave a peck against your lips. Finding yourself needing her attention after a long night without her, you eagerly reach for another, leaning closer to have your lips lingering against her own while she giggles into the kiss.
“Go! Go shower so we can snuggle and get warm and I can tell you how much I missed you!”
Of course you couldn’t deny her offer. You make your way to the bathroom, turning on the hot water to the shower while she shuffles with her comfy blankets into the bedroom. You quickly undress, shivering from the cold even though the steam begins filling the bathroom in no time, only thinking about how nice it will be to cuddle up closer to her after such a long, tiring, and cold shift at work.
Only a minute after you step into the shower, however, your thoughts are interrupted by the doors suddenly sliding open. You turn away from the showerhead’s stream warming your skin to spot her grin beneath a bitten lip.
“Can I join you?”
“Of course,” you tell her, helping her step into the shower after she peels her t-shirt over her head to toss to the floor in a messy pile of clothes you both created. “I thought you were in bed,” you question her, chuckling as she steps closer to get warm.
“I couldn’t wait to tell you how much I missed you,” she admits, grin widening. “I also couldn’t wait to get warm. I was freezing.”
Together, you both giggle as the shower’s steaming stream cascades down both your bodies. The two of you become warm in no time, laughing here and there while cleaning each other up, blowing soapy foam bubbles, sharing kisses between the two of you. You wash her hair for her while she moans from the relaxation and the gentle way you massage between the strands, and she repays you by lathering up a fresh washcloth with your favorite soap to run along your back, easing your muscles beneath her motions and the hot water.
After a while, and after rinsing off between more kisses and chuckles, you step out of the shower to dry one another off. You run a clean towel over her dripping hair while she wraps another around your shoulders, before making sure you’re both dry, yet shivering once again.
“C’mon,” she says, guiding you out of the bedroom in a hurry while laughing, shuffling through the living room in nothing but your bath towels before making it to the bedroom. “Under the covers!” she orders as if it’s an emergency, and from the chill in the apartment keeping you both cold, you could almost agree with her. Though you mostly only enjoy her playful silliness as the two of you climb into the bed, warming your bare bodies beneath the sheets and cozy comforter while scooting close to one another.
She wastes no time wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close. You can’t help but to rest your head in her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her familiar shampoo in her damp hair while she runs her cold fingers along your skin.
“Feeling better?” she asks.
“Mhm,” you hum, already so relaxed within her embrace, so warm and safe next to her as you snuggle beneath the blankets. “Of course,” you sigh, eyes growing heavy, “this always makes everything better.”
Softly she laughs at your sleepy voice, but hums in agreement a moment later. “I agree,” she says, whispering the next few words as you begin to drift off to sleep, “I love mornings like this.”
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writerpetals · 3 months
Text
soft & sweet | ❤️
; optional male lead fluff |  ☁️
You never imagined your best friend’s lips could be so soft. Taste so sweet. Electrify every nerve in your body, when he swipes your bottom lip with his tongue, asking for entrance, when his hand glides over the curves of your body, resting on your hips before moving around to squeeze your ass. You never imagined closing your eyes and melting into him in every way.
But that’s exactly what happens when a simple joke, a few words muttered by him, turns into flushed embarrassment of what if’s and maybe’s.
“We hang out together so much, people think we’re dating.” You remember him jokingly mentioning you only moments before.
You giggle his name as a ‘don’t go there’ plea.
“Not that it would be a bad thing.” He tells you with a smirk. “I mean, we haven’t even kissed.”
“Do you want to?” Your eyes bounce between him and the kitchen floor where the two of you stand. His arms over his chest. Your fingers tugging on the sleeves of your sweater out of a silly, nervous habit. “Kiss? I mean kiss.”
You asked as a joke, with a bite of your bottom lip, thinking he’d brush it off in his typical style, but when his smile fades, his eyes scan your face, and his hands pull you toward him, your heart is ready to burst from your chest.
Your back presses to the fridge nearby, the cold surface chilling your skin for only a moment. His body presses into yours, and as his hands brush loose hair from your face, all you can do is shut your eyes until you feel his lips against your own.
The softest lips, with the most careful movements, have you moaning softly into the kiss and gripping his shirt to pull him closer a second later. The softest lips you never want to pull away from, but when you do he leaves you absolutely breathless. Those soft, soft lips that your eyes study a moment before he leans back in, more desperate, more needy, as if to tell you without words how long he has been waiting to feel you against him.
When his mouth moves from yours, kisses slow and soft and sweet trailing toward your neck, you can only whimper his name, letting him know not to stop just yet. He places a kiss beneath your ear, before his needy voice that has grown deeper sends a chill through your body as he tells you how sweet you taste. His hands continue to grip your hips, thumbs brushing over your stomach to cause the need to giggle rise. He knows you’re ticklish. He knows nearly everything about you by now.
His mouth dares to kiss lower, in the dip of your sweater where a hint of cleavage is on display for him. He kisses each inch of bare skin, and just when you know there is no turning back, the line is drawing near, he finally lowers his hands and steps back a second later.
You blink, unsure of what just happened but the pounding in your heart remains evident, along with how he has left your legs trembling and body wanting so much more.
“Um,” you hesitate, cheeks burning, heart fluttering, fidgeting with your sleeves once again. “That was…”
“Wow,” he exhales with a grin, getting wrapped up in his own embarrassment. “I’ve wanted to know what that felt like for so long.”
“Really?” You feel a wave of heated skin and nervousness once again, heart beating steady like a heavy drum. “Then why didn’t you just kiss me?”
Your eyes meet once again at the question, almost as if he takes it as an invitation for more. Or maybe a challenge.
And as he pulls you to him without another word, chest against chest, hands on hips, mouth an inch from yours, you are happy to know your best friend is an excellent kisser, with the softest lips. 
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writerpetals · 4 months
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writerpetals · 4 months
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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. 
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writerpetals · 4 months
Text
release | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
The sound of the front door to the home you share with him clicking closed pulls you from your slumber, eyes fluttering beneath the dim lighting of the TV filling the living room. A second later you hear him tiptoeing toward you.
You call for him in a sleepy voice, hearing his chuckle a moment before he settles on the coffee table in front of where he left you on the couch.  
“Did I wake you?” he asks while reaching to brush his knuckles over your cheek, and judging from the way you grin tiredly as you shake your head, he already knows the answer. “I tried to be quiet in case you were sleeping. I ran by the lake tonight instead of my usual route, so it took longer.”
A few nights a week he will go on a quick jog around the neighborhood to let off some steam, and typically you’re waiting in bed for him to curl up by his side after he has showered. Some nights he needs a bit more time for peace and quiet, however, enjoying the adrenaline of a run beneath the moonlight, and sometimes you nap on the couch while waiting on him, allowing him to come home to find you curled up and waiting until he’s returned.
“No worries,” you mumble and grin, fluttering your eyes once again until you can wake yourself. His hand roaming from your cheek, to your shoulder, and finally your hip don’t help in the slightest, relaxing beneath his touch and humming as his fingers begin to linger at the hem of your nightgown. “Did you have a good run?”
“Mhm,” he hums in response, biting his lip as he pushes the silk fabric up to uncover your thighs, then your ass, and a quiet groan builds in his throat before he begins speaking once again. “I might need to let off a little more steam, though.”
Sometimes he goes for runs and comes home ready for a shower and sleep, and sometimes he comes home more worked up than before. It doesn’t help when the strap of your nightgown falls from your shoulder, uncovering the swell of your breast to tempt him or the fact that he finds your sleepy expression cute and irresistible in the moment. He licks his lips the second his hand dips to take a gentle grip of your ass, earning a quiet whimper of his name that fills his body with desire.
A grin forms on your lips as you push yourself from the sofa, wasting no time reaching for him, straddling his waist with your arms wrapping around his neck and your knees digging into the coffee table. A sting sets in against your flesh, possibly finding yourself in an uncomfortable position if the desire growing inside of you didn’t outweigh the subtle pain. Your lips find his own in seconds, kissing him with heat spreading from between your thighs to every inch of your body, hearing him groan against your skin while his hands fall to your waist. He guides your hips to begin grinding against him, his cock becoming hard beneath the motion, pressing against your bare slit through thin sweatpants.
His hair is damp and skin is dewy from a good run, your hands switching between gripping the strands or running your nails over his shoulders. Knowing he’s so worked up has the need for release growing inside of you. His mouth soon leaves your lips to pepper kisses against your neck, earning whimpers of his name in the process as you roll your hips against his body. His cock twitches between your thighs just as he reaches for the straps of your nightgown, tugging the flimsy things lower with a swift, effortless pull to leave your chest bare for his eyes only.
He pulls away to take in the sight of you, but you don’t allow him much time to cherish the view before you lean away from his body to push the hem of your nightgown up to your stomach, all before reaching beneath his tank top to find the band of his sweats, tugging lower and unveiling his cock to wrap a tight grip around the base. A deep groan builds in his chest as you play with his length, teasing him, running a thumb over the head, loving how breathless he becomes when he’s so worked up and you show him affection.
“Hurry, baby,” he groans, resting two palms to your hips and digging his nails into your skin. He leans closer for only a moment, pressing his lips to your own in desperation, all before telling you through his teeth, “I need you so badly right now.”
The words send a chill down your spine before the flash of heat surges through your body. A fire ignites in the two of you, needing to have one another as he pulls you closer while you align yourself with his cock. The tip brushes against your slit to leave you shaking, gripping the back of his neck tighter while sinking yourself onto his painfully hard, needy cock. He hisses and you gasp as he fills you up, body pressed to his and your lips brush against his flesh while you adjust to the feeling of him inside you. His brow furrows and jaw slacks just as your eyes close, holding one another tight a second before you begin rocking your hips against him.
Your thighs are trembling by the time you find a steady pace, slow, easy, grinding your body against his own, coating his skin with your arousal, whimpering his name in his ear. He sighs and wraps arms around your body, then his lips lower your shoulder, leaving soft kisses, teeth scraping your skin, doing whatever he can do to hear the noises he loves so much fall from your lips.
You cry out, beginning to tease him with breathless words, “you feel so good… inside of me.” He groans once again a second before he pumps his hips from between your thighs, if only to hear you gasp and giggle as his cock hits deeper inside of you. Still playful as ever, comfortable with another, and finding pleasure in pleasuring each other. He repeats the motion just to hear your noises once again, flashing a smirk of satisfaction only a second before you squeeze yourself tight around him, causing his eyes to screw shut, his brow to wrinkle, and a heavy sigh to fall from his lips.
His breaths deepen and your hips quicken in pace, grinding against his cock, moaning his name to echo past the small space you share in the living room. You feel him exhale against the flesh of your shoulder and each time his cock pushes deeper inside of you, he can’t help but to curse beneath his breath. You attempt to keep your moans and whimpers of his name low, until the desire to hear you fills him and he thrusts himself into your dripping cunt from below, pushing his hips from the coffee table just enough to have you clutching him tighter, moaning louder, crying out for him in the ways he loves to hear.
From the ways he grips your body tighter as he groans deeper, you know he’s growing closer. You begin to rock harder against him, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you feel his body tense beneath you. His head falls back as he grows stiff, allowing your lips to fall to his skin while riding his cock until you milk every last drop from him. He fills you up, releasing inside of you to create a mess, mixing with your own juices dripping down his length. And when his body slacks, you slip up and down his length, only a few more times, to hear him hiss and feel him begin to tremble beneath you.
“God, baby,” he groans as you ease yourself off of him, resting your weight on his thighs, “you’re incredible.” The praise makes you grin a second before he kisses your lips, and without warning, he guides your body to the couch the moment he catches his breath, back falling against the cushions and then he settles between your parted thighs. He says nothing while pressing a palm to your knee to keep your legs open for him, admiring the view of a drenched slit and swollen lips, completely aware of how worked up he’s made you.
“Mm, you’re so wet baby,” he hums while brushing his fingers along your slit, causing your legs to twitch as you realize just how desperate the need for release has become. “So messy with my cum dripping out of you.”
With that, he eases two fingers inside of your soaked cunt, pushing his own cum back into you as your back arches from the sofa and your head rolls to the side. A gasp fills the living room as he curls his fingers, applying pressure to the spot that has your body tensing and your eyes screwing shut.
You whimper, chest heaving, fists clutching the cushions beneath you, “that feels… amazing. Don’t stop.” The words fall from your lips in a sigh to have him chuckling, letting you know as he presses his thumb to your clit that he has no intention of stopping.
Your legs fall farther apart as he dips his body lower, lips pressed to your own before his mouth trails down to your chest. He leaves soft kisses as he buries his fingers inside of you, tongue darting out to flick over your nipple before he tugs softly with his teeth to earn an arched back once again. You call his name, whining the words now for him not to stop, that you’re getting close, and from the way he groans, he tells you just how much he loves every second of it.
You call for him with a breathless tone, hands rising to entangle your fingers in his hair. He continues teasing your nipples, licking, kissing, sucking your flesh so it drives you wild, while caressing your clit in small, quick circles and fingering your cunt until your legs begin to shake. He draws you closer to the edge, filling you with bliss while the warmth of pleasure swells, until the tension tightens and snaps, and he has you rolling your hips onto his hand and coming undone with his fingers deep inside of you.
You cry out once more with a gasp, waves of pure bliss washing over you, tugging on his hair to miss the way he groans thanks to the moans that spill from your lips. Your thighs tighten around his body that remains between your legs, walls clenching around his fingers, back arching to give him more of your body to tease and play with. And when you begin to come down, his soft lips ease the tension as you slack beneath him, kissing your flesh, your breasts, your chest, and even your neck before reaching your lips, pulling his hand from between your thighs and allowing you to whimper against his mouth until you pull away in an attempt to catch your breath.
431 notes · View notes
writerpetals · 4 months
Text
clean up on aisle 3 | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
// this smut is so stupid y'all lmfaoo but go ahead and read it if you want to have a laugh at my old writing haha
How could someone be so careless? You find yourself asking as you stare at the mess before you. Twenty bottles of cheap, grocery store wine broken on the floor, glass scattered about and soon to be a sticky mess beneath your feet.
“How could you let this happen?” You eye the newbie worker, crossing your arms over your chest with a snarl on your face as you ask. You don’t mean to be so harsh towards the boy, and the way he stutters and mumbles makes you almost feel sorry for him as he shrugs his shoulders.
“I-I don’t know,” he pouts. Okay, you feel a lot sorry for him. “I was just mopping and my butt… and the display… and-”
“Shh,” you hush him before he gets a chance to talk in muttered circles, hearing the loud, angry footsteps of the store manager turning the corner of the aisle the two of you are on to make his way toward you.
“But-”
“Just, stop talking,” you order him through clenched teeth, sporting the fakest smile you can possibly muster in the moment.
“What’s this?” With a hand on his hip, and another motioning towards the mess on the floor, the grumpy manager stares the two of you down. Sweat beads on his forehead as you try not to stare, but you knew he was pissed off the moment he heard the crash. Or, so you guess. “Did you do this?”
Shit. The manager is about to lay into him. You turn to look at your co-worker, with his wide eyes and pouting lips, asking yourself how could someone be so careless, yet so, so cute. Not that the two coincide, but the expression spread on his face can’t stop your mind from wandering to such meaningless questions.
“Well, sir…” he begins, voice trembling as he stares back like a deer in headlights. You can’t let him go down like this. The poor boy just got the job, and you know he is trying to pay his way through college.
“It was my fault!” You chime in, raising your chin and taking full blame. Like him, you too are trying to pay your way through school, and rent, on a minimum wage grocery store job, but you know your boss will go easier on you than he will this clumsy cutie standing next to you.
“Your fault?” The manager frowns.
“I came to get him to clean up some water I spilled at my register and I bumped into this display case.” You giggle, like a nervous school girl trying to get out of detention. “It’s just been one of those days. I’m so sorry.”
“Really?” His eyes narrow.
“Really, sir…” you sigh, noticing the newbie keeping extra quiet, hoping the manager believes it. You don’t blame him.
“Okay…” The boss’ arms fall to his side, causing you to release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Clean this up. And this is coming out of your paycheck.”
“Yes sir.” You try to hide your disappointment. Twenty bottles of cheap grocery store wine is still nearly half your paycheck for two weeks. There goes your part of the rent. Your roommate is going to be pissed.
Your boss turns away from the two of you just in time to miss you glaring at him, nostrils flaring and a hand threatening to slap some coordination into the boy.
“Thanks…” he whispers, lowering his eyes and all you can do is shake your head and make your way to your register.
How could someone be so careless?
“Half my paycheck,” you groan, scanning the items of the customer before you angrily, not realizing if you aren’t more careful, you are going to have to pay for more than that. “Half my paycheck!” You huff, punching the numbers for the fruit the customer is purchasing into the register with angry fingers, wishing it was your co-worker’s face instead.
“A-are you alright?” You turn to the little old lady just wanting to buy her groceries in peace, forcing a smile that is clearly faker than the Christmas decorations collecting dust at the store front.
“I’m fine.” Sighing, you try to control your anger enough to cash the lady out, taking the money from her little, shaking hands before she grabs her cart and high tails it out of there. “Damn it…” You curse, looking at the huge clock at the front of the store to see it read 4:59. Break time.
You quickly untie your red uniform apron from behind your back, beginning to set it down over the conveyer just as you hear someone clear their throat behind you.
“Uh, hey…” The newbie. Perfect. Just the person you were trying to avoid, turning to see his head low and shoulders lower, obviously carrying the guilt of you taking the blame for his screw up. And obviously your heart isn’t going to let you be so hard on him for it.
“Hey.” You nibble on your bottom lip from the awkwardness.
“Thanks again for taking the blame.” He rubs the back of his neck with a timid hand, voice just as low as his head. “I thought for sure I was getting fired.”
“It’s fine.” You shrug. It wasn’t fine, but shit happens. He is sweet, so it makes taking the blame all the easier. “Just, be careful next time, okay?”
“Sure,” he replies, nodding. “Can I show you something?”
“Um,” you hesitate, jaw dropping, “the last time a boy asked that was in the fourth grade and it did not go well.”
“It’s nothing weird,” he chuckles, “just, come with me.” He motions with a nod of his head towards the back, with you pausing for a moment with narrowed eyes, before deciding to follow him.
“It better not be anything weird,” you warn him, repeating his words as the two of you make your way down the pasta aisle before he pushes the two swinging double doors open to enter the hallway where you would have normally gone for your break.
“In here.” He turns, grinning while opening the door to the refrigerated storage room, hand extending to signal you to go in.
Your head tilts to the side, eyebrow cocked and looking at him as if he is out of his mind. “What could possibly be in there?”
“Just-” He begins moving his hands faster, motioning for you to enter as you shuffled inside.
“It’s cold.” Shivering, you wrap your arms tight around your body as he closes the door behind the two of you. For a storage space, it isn’t that big, being surrounded by mountains of boxes and shelves all around. What on earth was this boy thinking? ”So?”
“It’s a fridge. It’s supposed to be cold.” Grinning, he leans against the door, arms folded over his chest and a cocky, raised brow to match. “And I brought you in here because I wanted to thank you.”
“You already thanked me.” You roll your eyes, hands sliding up and down your arms to warm yourself, watching him come closer with the devilish smirk on his lips that chill you more than that storage room ever could. “Don’t make me regret being nice to you.”
“I want to show how much I appreciate it.” He is merely inches from you now, looking down with his lips parted, eyes bouncing from your mouth to your hesitant gaze and back again. “If you'll let me.”
His voice suddenly deepens as he speaks, sending a shiver down your spine that is definitely not from the coldness of the fridge. You open your mouth to speak, but close it just as fast, not knowing how to respond to this new tone of his.
But you don't need to respond, giving him an opportunity to lean forward with your silence, pressing his lips to yours for just a taste to send another wave of something a bit warmer through your body. Cheeks burning and hands clenching at your sides, you freeze, watching him pull away, grin just as cocky before it fades beneath licked, glistening lips.
“So?” He mimics you, tone teasing with his question, waiting on you to make the next move if you dare to go there with him.
And you do, of course, reaching up to wrap a hand around his neck, pulling him against your mouth much more desperate this time, knowing you only have fifteen minutes to decide if you want to make this huge mistake with him. Sure, there are risks of getting caught with the cute new employee, but his mouth on your body feels too good to care. It’s not like you haven’t fantasized about this exact thing while restocking display cases or checking out customers that don’t give you the time of day.
His hands find your hips, pushing you to the nearest stack of boxes filled with who knows what, before his fingers fumble with the buttons on your baby blue blouse. Without words, you both make your mind up that the risk is well worth the reward, and maybe the risk is a bit of the fun, too.
“We don't have much time,” you warn him, disappointment obvious in your voice, wishing this wasn't how your first and hopefully not last, time with him goes.
“Shh,” he hushes you between peppering kisses all along your jaw, just like you did to him before when words were only getting in the way. The opening in the front of your shirt chills your body, sending goosebumps to form all along your skin and you know in part it has to do with his hands caressing over your lacy, black bra covering your breasts, thumbing your hardened nipples.
His mouth lowers to your neck, suckling lightly on your skin every so often, causing you to release quiet moans while tugging in the buttons to his pants. He does the same, slipping his hands down your body to unfasten your jeans, slipping them to your thighs for you to kick off your feet in a hurry as well as your shoes, creating a messy pile on the floor.
You sit before him, opened shirt and matching underwear, feeling his eyes all over every ounce of skin that you bare, noticing him bite his lip as he reaches into his pocket for a small, shiny wrapper.
“Why do you have that in your pocket?” You frown, but continue unzipping his pants to take note of the thick bulge in his white boxer-briefs. “Am I not the first cashier girl you’ve hooked up with? Is this like a thing you do?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that.” he chuckles shyly. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later. Take off your panties.”
“How romantic…” 
Actually, you have to admit you find it pretty hot the way this younger boy orders you around. In any other setting, you could get used to this. But now you’re in a rush, and he is impatient, taking hold of your underwear at the hips and tugging them down your legs to join the rest of your clothes on the floor.
Instantly he groans at the sight, causing you to become nearly embarrassed with your thighs parted for him, giving the perfect view. You know it’s no time to be modest, watching the way he licks his lips as his hand slips between your legs, fingers testing the waters with a brush against your slit.
“Oh…” you exhale, finding his gentleness nice even in the rush the both of you are in. The pad of his thumb finds your clit, rubbing in careful motions to begin with, before he sticks the condom between his teeth, lips cocking in a grin while his eyes darting up to meet yours. His second hand lowers beneath the first, a single finger circling your entrance before easing inside.
A gasp fills the storage room as you close your eyes, taking in this new pleasure he offers and not being able to stop your hips from rocking against his hands. He continues circling your clit before slipping another finger inside of you, relaxing your body for him so he can fill you with bliss.
But he can't have all the fun, you realize, eyes fluttering open while reaching for the band of his boxers, slipping the material down to expose his arousal, hard and needy and begging to be touched. You grip him, softly at first, enjoying how hot his flesh is in your hand to mix with the chilled atmosphere. Caressing up his length to run a thumb over the tip, you earn a surprised groan in return from deep within his chest.
“Hurry,” you rush him with a breathy whisper, feeling his hands leave your body before ripping the foil wrapper open. You wrap your arms around his neck as he slides the condom down his length before positioning himself at your entrance, with you desperately pulling his lips down to yours as he eases himself inside. A moan from him vibrates against the kiss, causing your whole body to tremble while feeling him enter you, slow, and deep.
You pull him closer, whimpering his name and parting your legs farther for him, allowing him to pull out and thrust back in with ease to send your thighs trembling around him. Carefully, he places one hand on the surface of the box you are seated on, leaning into you but not before wrapping an arm around your back to steady your body, falling into a steady rhythm of long, deep strokes to have your head lolling back.
Your arms wrap tighter around him as his thrusts quicken, so suddenly you can sense the desperation in his body and with good reason.
“Fuck…” You whine, closing your eyes and getting lost in the thrilling, forbidden feeling of how risky the situation is. You know it is way past your break limit, but with him working himself between your legs, it becomes harder to care. “Faster…” You instruct him, feeling his hips begin to press into you harder as his pace increases, with your nails clawing his shirt and feeling his mouth press against your neck, leaving sloppy kisses against your skin.
You hear his breaths grow heavier, knowing he is getting close and deciding he isn’t going to get off that easy, even if it is just a quickie in the storage room. Your hand slips between the two of you, fingers finding your clit to begin pleasuring yourself as you nibble on your bottom lip, concentrating on the feeling of him pumping himself in and out of you with the sounds of sloppy sex and groans from him filling the room. You bite down harder on your lip, feeling a twinge against your skin but knowing you would have to get over it if you want to keep quiet, voice threatening to call his name out over and over from the pleasure he gives you.
Your walls tighten around him as you rub your clit faster with your hips rolling against him, feeling the sensations swell between your legs as you near your peak. His hand grips you tighter, pulling your body closer with his motions becoming more wild and more desperate, letting you know he is nearing the edge as well.
With a breath caught in his throat, a huff and a groan, he falls apart before you, forehead pressing against yours with his hips slowing as he releases into you, feeling his grip tighten even more on your body. The hand still wrapped around his neck pulls his mouth to yours, allowing him to ride out his orgasm against you with your hips still moving in circles, fingers still pleasuring yourself until the waves of electricity surge through your body.
Pants and moans and whimpers fill the space between the two of you. Hands grip each other harder, bodies moving as one until you are both breathless and trembling and worn out from coming undone. He pulls away a moment later, one hand gripping the surface of the box to balance himself while the other adjusts himself back into his jeans, slipping the condom and the wrapper in his pocket to clean up later.
You slip from the box, attempting to stand on wobbling legs and holding onto his shoulders for support, grinning with a slight embarrassment as he looks down at you behind eyes half-lidded and drunk on lust.
“Next time,” you begin, picking your clothes up from the floor in a rush to get dressed, “if you want to show me something, make sure it’s not in this cold ass fridge.” You shiver. Not having his warmth surrounding you is certainly bringing you back to reality. Not to mention the near shock of actually hooking up with the stock boy on your break.
“Next time?” His eyes meet yours, grinning from ear to ear at your particular choice of words. Huffing, you slide your pants up over your legs, securing the button before slipping one foot in your shoe, then the other.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do,” he teases. “You’re saying there’s definitely going to be a next time.”
“Not if you keep grinning at me like that.” You roll your eyes while smoothing your hands over your clothes and hair, trying not to make it look so obvious what you have been up to and why you were late getting back to work. “So what is this deal with the condom?”
“Huh?” He frowns as you pass him, opening the door to the storage room and making sure no one is around so you can make your escape.
“Did you think I forgot?” You smirk over your shoulder at him before stepping into the hall, happy to have made it out without anyone noticing the two of you.
“Oh, that.” He chuckles, following you down the same aisle as before. “I just felt lucky today, I guess.”
“Right…” Your voice lowers as you near the front, seeing business carry on as usual.
“Actually, I was hoping to hook up with a cute cashier.” You look over to him, blushing at his words, then hating yourself for it. “But to be honest I was actually gonna take my chances with number five before the whole wine bottle thing happened.”
Your eyes dart to the perky, smiling cashier on register five, before looking back at him, eyes narrowed, lips pursed, and nostrils flaring.
“I’m kidding!” He raises his hands in surrender.
“Yeah, okay. Get cleaned up and get back to work.” You begin to shoo him away toward the bathrooms with one hand. “And don’t break anything, please!” 
Lord knows your paychecks couldn’t afford it.
176 notes · View notes
writerpetals · 4 months
Text
too hot, hot damn | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
“Can you stop doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Licking that popsicle like that.”
You blink at your best friend while feigning innocence as to what in the hell he is talking about. All you are doing is enjoying a watermelon flavored popsicle on this scorching hot day - it doesn’t help you have no AC - and he wants to stare at you while questioning your methods of enjoying a favorite frozen treat.
“I’m just eating a popsicle.”
To say he is sensitive is an understatement. He is far too horny for his own good, getting worked up over the littlest of things from lack of sex in the past year, and yeah, maybe you are sucking the popsicle in inappropriate ways because you know he is staring and it will get him going, but so what?
“No, you’re practically deep throating it, and, ugh…” He throws his hands up, looking the other way as the two of you sit on the balcony of your apartment, with the slight breeze blowing on your faces to cool you off just enough with that delicious popsicle to your lips.
“No, I’m eating it.” He looks over at you as you speak, just in time to see your lips circle the tip of the icy dessert, before allowing it to disappear into your mouth, almost to the end.
“Fuck…” he whines, leaning his head back, seconds from stomping his feet like a child, “that’s not fair.”
“What? Do you want a popsicle, too? I have plenty.” Now, you’re just messing with him. It’s clear to the both of you from the smirk on your face.
“No! I don’t want a-nevermind.”
“Hey…” You call for him, causing him to look over once again to your tongue now swirling the tip of the popsicle before slowly sliding it into your mouth again.
“You know what, fuck you.” He is seconds from getting up from his chair to leave you on the balcony when you burst into a fit of giggles. “What’s so funny? Do my frustrations seem humorous to you?”
“A little.” You shrug. “But if you wanted some best friend head, you could just ask for it.”
“What, really?” His eyes widen, trying to see if you are serious, or just messing with him again.
“Sure.” You are serious. He is cute. Cute enough for head, at least. Maybe more, and you would be lying if you said you never thought about it. Plus, you know he will want to return the favor, and you would love nothing more than to have that mouth on your body.
“Like, actual blow job head?”
“Is there any other kind?” You hold your hand up just as he opens his mouth. “Don’t answer that. Now, do you want your cock in my mouth or not?”
“God, yes, please…”
You smirk at his desperate tone, looking over the railing of the balcony to realize it will be nearly impossible for anyone to spot you from such an angle, and even if they do, what’s a little harmless oral for your best friend?
Just as you stand from your seat, you look at the melting popsicle in your hand, then back at him  staring at you with an eager expression, before getting what might be a bad, yet incredibly fun idea.
You make your way to him, kneeling in front of his lap with your knees pressed into the concrete of the balcony and him already unbuttoning his pants. A second later he pulls his thick cock out for you, half aroused and growing, causing you to lick your lips before reaching to grip him gently with one hand. A groan from his chest hits your ears, giving you the courage to do what you do next, and press the tip of the popsicle to the tip of his cock, swirling it around to coat the flesh in a sweet, sticky layer, before leaning in to lick the remains with your tongue.
You hear him hiss as your mouth makes contact and he thrusts his hips up just enough to cause more of his length to enter, but you don’t mind, finding it hot the noises he makes and the taste of the popsicle mixed with just him.
You bob your head up and down, sucking gently and eventually dropping the popsicle from your hands to melt in a messy puddle on the ground. With your hand already gripping him, you begin pumping up and down as your tongue circles his tip over and over, earning deep groans and breathy moans from him in return. His hands eventually find themselves in your hair to get the best view of your mouth pleasuring him, with you making sure to look up at him every now and then to lock eyes if only to drive him wild at the erotic sight. Your mouth full of his cock, sucking him off, drawing him closer to pure bliss, and looking enticing to him as you do it.
“Fuck…” he hisses, “your mouth feels so fucking good.” You know he means it, lost in the pleasure after not having any physical contact with anyone in so long and loving how you already know how to handle his hard, needy cock.
You continue focusing on the head, with your hand pleasuring his length and you suck lightly, then harder, and back again, gaining desperate thrusts of his hips and causing him to pull your hair tight. You can feel yourself growing needy, aching between your legs from having him in your mouth, wanting nothing more than to finish him so he can return the favor.
“I’m-I’m… fuck…” He can’t find the words to let you know he is coming, losing all control of his senses as you suck him to bliss, bobbing your head and pumping the rest of his length with your hand. Suddenly, you feel him release into your mouth. Hot drops of his cum spill over your tongue as his head tilts back and he sucks in air, holding it until he begins coming down again.
Pulling away and swallowing, you look up at him with a grin on your lips, knowing he has been waiting a long time for that and not knowing what to do with himself now that he has gotten it.
“Better?” You chuckle, wiping away any fluids from your mouth as you ask. All he can do is raise his head to look at you, nodding for a moment before dropping it back down.
You were about to make your way to the bathroom to clean up, standing and turning to make your way inside, before you felt a strong grip on your wrist to stop you.
“Where do you think you’re going?” You turn back to look at him, clearly calm and collected, and staring up at you with raised brows.
“Inside…”
“I’m not done with you.” With that, he stands to push you toward the railing of the balcony, before lowering himself to his knees to begin tugging on the button of your shorts. As he pulls down your zipper, then hooks his fingers in the waistband of your underwear, he looks up at you with a cocky grin. “It’s my turn to taste you.”
572 notes · View notes
writerpetals · 5 months
Text
breathless | 🔞
; optional female lead smut |  ☁️
You’re already breathless by the time she sinks her favorite toy inside of you. It’s strapped around her hips and you whimper her name as she thrusts beneath you, wrapped up in one another with arms around her and her mouth on you. She teases and toys with your nipples, licking, sucking, biting, while your hips begin to move against her, eyes closing, head falling back in pure bliss.
“You’re needy tonight,” she teases you, a dominating yet playful tone to match her aura and you simply melt into her. It’s no secret after time apart just how much you can grow to need her, already dripping by the time she eased the toy deep into you and now the room spins as she tends to your body. Rolling your hips against her, you say nothing, only a moan falling from your lips to tell her she’s right. You are needy. “Ride me,” she orders, another thrust of her hips from below as she pumps the toy deeper inside of you. 
You follow her words, of course. Another whimper slips from your lips, a gasp when you feel the rounded tip press farther inside your dripping walls. Your body is hot in her hold as her hands roam every inch and she only pulls her mouth away to chuckle at how desperate you are. 
“Fuck me,” you cry out breathlessly, grinding yourself against her to feel warmth spiraling from between your thighs. She chuckles again, reaching to grip your ass, and then rolls her hips into you. Another surge of electric pleasure jolts through you. Your mind grows numb. Your legs tremble around her. You only need a little more motivation to reach your peak. 
“Lean back,” she instructs, and you follow her commands once again. Your back falls to the bed in seconds and she’s between your thighs once more, gripping the thick base of the plastic toy with one hand before easing it into your soaked heat. A gasp falls from your lips before you moan her name, feeling her beginning to thrust into you just as you close your eyes. Then you feel her hand fall to your body, her thumb brushing over your clit to send a surge of warmth shooting down your spine.
“Please,” you whimper, showing her just how needy you are. She moans at the tremble in the word and the way your body looks beneath her as she fucks you, spread open, trembling, the toy sinking into your dripping warmth, begging for more and dying to come. With a smirk, her hips work faster as she massages your clit, earning every moan of her name, every breathless whimper, and every time you cry out not to stop, that you’re so close.
“Come for me,” she groans, pumping the toy into you harder, deeper, making quick work of your clit with circles around the swollen bud. Your body tenses and she can feel how close you’re getting as a final gasp falls from your lips. The pleasure of red hot heat surges through your body as you come undone, rolling your hips, riding out the bliss against her as she continues fucking you. With legs trembling, your back arches from the bed as the bursts of ecstasy roll through your body, and you finally begin to come down while her motions slow.
She carefully pulls out of you with a giggle, happy to have given you the pleasure you desperately needed.  
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writerpetals · 5 months
Text
messy | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
w; semi-public sex
Meeting your friends for dinner to introduce them to your new boyfriend should be nothing to fret over. Nothing more than small talk over a nice meal getting to know one another after warning him to be on his best behavior, and by the time dessert arrives, he should have them eating out of the palm of his hands. After all, he has a way with charming anyone he meets, so getting your friends to like him isn’t the hard part.
The hard part, as you quickly found out, is when you decide to excuse yourself to the restroom to freshen up, only to have him follow you a moment later. A click of a lock signals his presence, causing you to jump and nearly drop the tube of lip gloss you were in the process of applying.
“What the hell?” The words are hushed as your brow creases, knowing it looks more than suspicious to have both of you gone from the dinner table at the same time. However, he only flashes a smirk as fingers run through loose locks of hair while stepping toward you, moments before an arm wraps around your waist to pull you close.
“You look beautiful tonight.” As he speaks, his eyes lower from your own, to your lips, and end up taking in the sliver of exposed cleavage above black lace. “And you smell so, so sweet. It’s driving me wild.” It also doesn’t help that he's been away from you for a month, gone on a business trip with plans to have dinner with your friends the first night back. That was your mistake thinking he could keep his hands off of you for that long.
In an instant, his lips are on yours, backing you into the nearest counter as his teeth nibble your flesh. You can’t help but to moan against the kiss, body warming thanks to his touch and the adrenaline pumping knowing your friends are right outside waiting on you. The heat lowers to between your thighs, forming an ache the second his grip reaches your hips to guide your body on top of the marble counter.
“My friends are going to wonder where we are,” you attempt to warn him, already breathless from the way his lips press eager kisses down your neck. He ignores the warning, pushing your dress up your thighs before you part your legs to invite him closer, regardless if you say things your body doesn’t believe. “We can’t.”
“Tell me to stop, then,” he challenges you as he picks the buttons of his shirt, all before unbuckling his pants in a rush.
You can’t seem to mutter the words. The need is already too much to bear and the excitement of being in a public place gets the better of you. You need him, so you let him do as he pleases, watching him push your panties to the side with two fingers while stroking his cock with his other hand.
Before you can process the action, he’s slipping a finger inside of you, warming your body up as your hips instantly begin to rock against his hand. Then he adds another, curling them inside to coat his flesh with sticky, wet arousal while continuing to pump his cock in a loose fist.
“Hurry,” you rush him, wanting to feel him inside of you while the moment is burning hot. You reach to grip his hips, urging him closer until he gets the hint to line the head of his cock to your folds. A second later he’s easing his length inside of you, earning nothing but satisfied moans from your lips and a deep groan from within his chest as the bliss fills you both.
“Fuck, baby,” he curses with need, pulling away to thrust inside of you once again, “I didn’t realize how badly I needed this.”
You couldn’t agree more, and you tell him with your palms against his chest and your nails digging into his skin, whimpers echoing off the walls of the small bathroom the moment he slips out to push back in once again. He forms a firm grip on your hips, fingers venturing beneath your dress as he holds on tight, and all you can do is arch your back with your head lolled to the side.
He falls into a rhythm between your thighs, pumping his cock in and out of your dripping, tightening walls as the sounds of pleasure fill both of your ears. You instruct him to go faster, harder, fucking you just the way you like and he has no problems obeying. His pace increases, soft groans slipping from his lips to mix with whimpers of his name while he holds you close, body pressing to body, skin against skin.
He’s driving you wild, the risk of getting caught increasing the longer you’re together, but neither of you can think about the consequences. Bliss is filling every inch, and a fire lights up between your thighs the moment he reaches to press his thumb to your clit. Pure electric pleasure overloads you, thighs shaking as he caresses circles into the swollen, throbbing nub and your moans grow louder the longer it lasts.
The sinful noises flood the bathroom until the moment he is pulling himself out of you, pumping his cock with a firm grip as he releases a final, deep groan. In an instant, he pushes the head of his cock between your folds, and you can’t pull your eyes away as he releases, dripping cum from your entrance to coat your flesh. You ride out his high against his cock, urging him back into you and rolling your hips against his body to earn every little huff and groan from his lips.
With him still inside of you, his thumb presses to your clit once again, circling your flesh as your lips meet his. Your mouths part before running your tongue over his, getting lost in the way he touches you while still being so full of him. As the first electric pulse courses through your body, you tremble in his grasp, and he never slows his motions against your clit until the moment you’re too overwhelmed and far too sensitive for the contact.
When he finally pulls away, you’re left with a mess between your thighs, and he takes a moment to admire his work with a smirk on his lips, all before reaching for towels to clean you up. And all you can think about is the lie you’re going to tell your friends when you get back to the table.   
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writerpetals · 5 months
Text
the pleasure of something new | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
w; ass play/anal.
“Hey… can we... try something new sometime?”
Though the alcohol has your nerves buzzing and your heart racing, after spending weeks thinking over the question it gives you the courage to ask him for something you have been wanting to try in the bedroom for a while. Your words are a bit slurred, and part of it is due to the sleepiness as you curl up next to him in bed after a night out with friends, both of you tipsy, tired, holding one another as you rest against his bare chest and he releases an intoxicated chuckle before answering.
“Anything,” is all he says, then he yawns and his eyes flutter, knowing he’s close to snoring by now.
“You know what,” you begin to mumble, finding your own eyelids heavy and the way his arm wraps around your back to hold you tight doesn’t help in the slightest in keeping you awake. “Never mind.” The courage fades as your heartbeat begins to settle, allowing the opportunity to finally bring up something you have been wanting to try to pass by. 
He mumbles something you miss due to fading in and out of dreamland, and soon you’re both drifting off into a heavy sleep. Morning comes and he awakens before you, showering and getting dressed, leaving a note on the fridge for you to find after you begin to stir and realize he’s gone, and then heading out to work. The cold sheets next to you don’t allow you much more sleep thanks to missing him, and your head is throbbing a bit from the alcohol the night before as you make your way to the designated note area, finding a simple ‘I love you’ scribbled in messy handwriting, and that he will see you this afternoon. 
And you try to not cringe when you think about the night before and almost spilling a deep, dark fantasy of yours to him. You’re positive he wouldn’t mind, and in fact, you’re sure he would jump at the chance to agree to the act. After all, there isn’t much the two of you keep from one another, finding total comfort in each other as well as the pleasure of pleasuring him, and him doing the same to you. If anything, you’re sure it would add some new excitement after years of being together, and with you spending a few nights searching up videos on your own and getting off to them when he is far away on a trip, or busy with work, it has left you with a dire ache in the pit of your stomach.
If only you could get over the embarrassment of just blurting it out. You assumed the night before would be the perfect opportunity, but his sleepy response and your nerves got the better of you, causing you to cower away at another chance of confessing to him what you want.
Luckily for you (or maybe it’s rather unlucky since you wish to drop the subject), your phone beeps with a new text messages only a few hours after he has left, and of course as you read the message on the screen, your stomach begins to twist and turn.
what did you want to ask last night?
The text is accompanied by a devil emoji, and you would have chuckled at that if it weren’t for the realization that he didn’t somehow forget you bringing up the topic. You should have known he is more attentive than that, and normally you would be thankful for him paying so much mind to you. However, when you can already feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up your spine, it’s hard to be honest with yourself, as well as him.
What do you mean?
If you’re any luckier, he will believe you as you downplay the question, but it's him, and if there’s a chance he could do something to make you happier when he knows there’s something on your mind, he’s not going to give it a rest.
….
you know what I mean.
You aren’t sure why his messages seem so stern even through text, but it has you typing away a final message to tell him you will inform him later. He leaves it at that, and you can breathe for a few hours until he arrives home. Your chest feels a bit heavier from wanting to avoid him, and in turn avoid the conversation, yet your heart races a bit at the thought of him not only agreeing to your request, but performing the act on you as well.
When the front door opens, he finds you settled in the living room, taking a deep breath and twiddling your thumbs as you sit on the couch, hair damp and nothing but your robe on to make it clear you just showered. He chuckles at the sight, and you know you couldn’t look any more obvious as he enters the home you share, tossing his coat to the side while slipping off his shoes, then loosening his tie and making his way toward you. 
“You look guilty,” he tells you with more laughter falling from his lips, and you wish the nerves weren’t getting the best of you in the moment.
It’s him, you remind yourself, knowing you can tell him anything. Maybe because your desires were once something you were turned off by with other lovers and recently you have been discovering new ways to find them to be a turn on when he is involved. Mix that with the thrill of trying something new, the shame from those that aren’t into it, and the realization that you have to ask for it to get what you want and it has left you with a racing heart and butterflies in your stomach.
“Is it that obvious?” you ask him with a nervous giggle as he takes his spot next to you, not hesitating to wrap an arm around your body and pull you close for a kiss against your temple.
“Are you guilty of something?” he asks, teasing you.
“No,” you tell him, shaking your head with a hesitant grin, “no, not guilty, just…”
“Just wanting to ask me something, but suddenly you’re too shy?”
You bite your lip because he hit the nail on the head, eyes falling to your lap only until he presses a finger beneath your chin to have you meeting his gaze.
“You know you can ask me anything.”
The heat rushes to your face, realizing how ridiculous you’re being because it’s him and you can tell him anything. You’re aware and you repeat it over and over like a broken record, but it doesn’t calm the nerves any. 
“I feel silly…” 
“Baby,” he calls you tenderly, cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes over your skin to relax the tense body sitting before him. “There's no reason for you to feel that way.”
“I know,” you sigh and close your eyes to enjoy his lingering touches mixed with the softness of his voice. 
“How can I give you what you want if you don’t tell me?” Your eyes open at the question, studying the seriousness in his expression and the sincerity in the words, all before his voice deepens and there’s a flicker of pure desire in his eyes. “It’s important for you to tell me what you need so I can make you feel good.” 
The subtle smirk on his lips sends your heart racing for different reasons, as well as a rush of heat between your thighs. “What if… what if I show you, instead?” He licks his lips at the suggestion, smirk deepening a second before he shakes his head. You stand from his embrace to make your way to the bedroom, grabbing the laptop from where you left it on the bed and returning to him within a minute. He waits patiently while watching your every move, from you sitting next to him to placing the computer on your lap, turning it on, clicking a few times to find the video you want to show him, and your heart is pounding in your chest as heat has taken over every inch of your face. 
You say nothing while skipping ahead a few minutes on the video to see the couple on screen, the man’s hand wrapped around the woman’s body as he thrusts into her from behind. Quickly, you turn away, knowing he is watching with his undivided attention, knowing he’s witnessing not just the man thrusting into her, but fucking her ass, reaching around to slip a hand between her thighs to caress her clit, and you hear the moans and the messy sounds of skin against skin coming from the speakers until the red hot embarrassment has you closing the laptop shut before pushing it toward the coffee table in front of you.
He remains silent for a few moments, taking in the video and finally understanding why you have been so shy over the topic. Though it’s hard for him to ignore the bulge beginning to form in his pants, not just from the video but from the thought of you wanting, needing, him to do such things to you, and within seconds he’s gripping himself through his slacks and exhaling a deep breath. 
“Is that all, baby?” A chill races down your spine from the deep raspiness of his tone, gathering up the courage to turn your head to spot him with his eyes half-lidded while he licks his lips. Your gaze lowers to see the outline of his cock through his pants with a tight grip from a veined hand, causing an ache to form between your thighs at the sight.  “You should have told me that’s all you wanted…”
There’s temptation in his voice, urging the confidence out of you, and though you stumble over your words, the courage to become more open like you normally are with him rises. “Do you.. do you want to? Do that, I mean.”
“What?” he asks with a smirk, moving closer for his hand to cup your face and his thumb to graze over your bottom lip. “Fuck you in the ass and make you come?”
Your heart skips a beat at the blunt words, but you’re aware what the idea has ignited in him. “Mhm,” is all you can manage to hum before your teeth sink into your bottom lip. 
“Baby,” he exhales, and pauses a moment to lean closer, pressing his lips against your own before pulling away with only an inch between the two of you, “nothing would make me happier than pleasuring you in whatever way you desire.” 
He meets your lips once again, lingering for a moment to savor the taste of your skin. You can’t help but to whimper into the kiss, feeling your nipples growing hard beneath your robe, finding your thighs and everything in between aching for his touch. His hands grip your hips to pull your body closer before he finds his way to your breasts, cupping them in his palms, squeezing gently, drawing out another moan until you pull away in a gasp.
He lowers his attention to your neck, kissing tenderly while his thumbs trace circles around your nipples to urge your breaths to deepen, quicken, and get lost in the moment to where you’re no longer worried over being silly or feeling shy about what you need, hands getting lost in his hair while tossing your head back to allow him closer. He makes it obvious he wants to give it to you, already painfully hard at just the thought and it only grows worse the longer his touches and lips linger over your body. 
You whimper his name to earn his attention, noticing the flicker of lust igniting in his eyes as the need to have you takes over, “I… I want to try.” With that you gulp and watch him smirk, then he nods his head and rises to his feet.
“Lay down, baby,” he instructs, “I’ll be right back.” 
You do as he says with a racing heart, feeling your insides buzzing from the anticipation of trying something new, and the thrill of getting to do it with someone you trust wholeheartedly. The worry is overtaken by the need to be close to him as he fulfills your fantasy, and the moment he steps back into the living room your body is aching to feel him inside of you. 
He returns with his tie gone from around his neck and the first few buttons of his shirt undone. One hand is rolling up the sleeve of the other arm, while the opposite hand holds a small, clear bottle and a fresh hand towel that you assume is for clean up. He’s already one step ahead and prepared to take care of you, you think to yourself, grinning nervously beneath a bitten lip as you watch him set the towel and bottle aside before unbuttoning his shirt to slip from his shoulders. 
Pressing your thighs together to try to rid yourself of the ache, you lay there waiting, never pulling your eyes from him as he takes his time tugging on his belt and then the buttons to his pants, allowing the zipper to fall and expose gray briefs beneath, as well as the base of his erect cock, thick and needy, dying to have you. A surge of warmth courses through your body from impatience, wishing for him to hurry but still a bit nervous over finally getting something you had spent so long only fantasizing about. 
“Just relax, baby,” he whispers as he takes his spot between your thighs, urging them open with gentle palms before pressing his body against your own. His lips meet yours in sweet, soft kisses to ease the tension, knowing you’re worked up, nervous, and a bit overwhelmed in the moment. His hands coax the nerves from your body by caressing your sides, until he reaches to tug on the knot holding your robe together. The silk falls open to expose your naked body beneath, and a second later he rises to his knees to take in the sight of you. “I’m going to take care of you, okay? Don’t be nervous.”
You nod in response while he traces circles on the outsides of your thighs with his fingertips. He takes a moment to admire the view of you bare beneath him, legs parted, chest rising and falling, the curve of your breasts and your erect nipples, all of it waiting just for him to offer the pleasure you have been needing. With a smirk, he lowers his head for his lips to find your breasts, placing sweet kisses around your nipple before his tongue darts out to flick over the hardened bud. A gasp is earned, and then a giggle, finding his playful teasing just what you always need to rid the moment of the tension. The nerves leave your body with every kiss or swipe of his tongue, every caress of a gentle palm and delicate word whispered from a careful tongue. He tells you to relax, he will take care of you, he’s going to make you feel good, and by the time he reaches your mound to kiss and tease, he’s telling you how beautiful you are and how much he can’t wait to taste you. 
He leaves you breathless with a heart pounding away inside your chest and a fire from pure desire igniting inside of you. He kisses down your swollen, aching lips and then slips his tongue up your slit to find your clit. Your back arches as you moan his name, legs falling open to tell him you need more, forgetting every ounce of worry that once consumed you. 
“You taste so good, baby,” he groans between your thighs and you dare to look down to meet his darkened gaze staring up at you as he performs circles on your clit with his tongue. Each lap around the swollen bud has your hips rolling against his mouth and every ounce of tension dissolved from your body. He tastes you and draws you close to an edge that won’t satisfy you just yet, but he only wishes to warm you up, relax you, get you comfortable so he can fulfill your desires and please you, just like you asked. 
You cry out his name as you reach for him, fingers entangling in the strands of his hair as his tongue dips inside of your entrance to gather up the juices that begin to spill. His hands keep a tight grip on your thighs, making sure your legs remain parted and you receive every last bit of the bliss he offers, switching between tracing circles around your clit to teasing your entrance, and back again, all until he dares to dip lower just as he pushes against the back of your thighs with two steady palms.
His tongue brushes against your ass to cause you to gasp and tense, immediately dropping your hands from his hair to find a tight grip against the couch beneath you. You mutter his name, full of surprise from the action, and at first you assume it was only a mistake, until he swipes over your tightened entrance once again, this time circling with his tongue to have your thighs shaking beneath his hands. 
“How does that feel, baby?” he asks a second before nipping at your cheek, causing your legs to twitch beneath him from an unfamiliar feeling.
“I-” You take a deep breath while feeling him place kisses on each side of your ass, awaiting your answer. “-like it. I-It feels good… don’t stop.” 
It’s all the convincing he needs, lowering his mouth to your ass once again to tease your rim with his tongue. The tension begins to leave your body as the feeling of uncertainty is replaced with bliss, finding pleasure in whatever he does to your body with his mouth. Though there’s a stronger aching between your thighs now, dying for attention on your throbbing clit, dying to feel him inside of you as he circles your ass and applies a bit of pressure with his tongue to have you trembling. He licks and teases and kisses and nips, and your juices begin to drip from your aching cunt down to his tongue, coating your ass and his flesh with arousal. 
You gulp before attempting to steady the words as you speak, “I-I need more… I…” The words fall short the moment he pulls away, wiping his mouth with his hand before grinning down at the wet mess he’s created between your thighs. 
He says nothing as the sound of your breaths fill the space between the two of you, and you watch him push his pants and briefs down his thighs to uncover his painfully hard cock. He grips himself with a tight fist before he begins stroking with one hand, and the other reaches to begin teasing your clit with his thumb. Your body tenses at the sudden pleasure before you begin melting into his touch, hips beginning to rock against his hand, whimpers of pleas spilling from your lips because you need to have him. He receives the hint a second before he aligns his cock with your entrance, allowing your juices to coat the head before he eases his length inside of your dripping cunt.
In an instant your back is arching from the couch and your arms are wrapping around his body. Nails dig into his skin as he fills you up, whimpers of his name filling the living room the second he begins thrusting himself in and out of you. Your thighs tighten against his body and he rolls his hips effortlessly to fill the both of you with bliss while the sounds of your arousal mix with the moans and groans the two of you begin to release. 
“God,” you cry out, head rolling back while your hips move in rhythm with his thrusts, “that feels so… so good.” Your breaths grow heavier the more you moan for him, leaving marks against his skin as his pace quickens and his words release from his lips in an unsteady tone once he begins to tease you.
“You like my cock in your pussy, baby?” he asks, and then he begins to hiss through his teeth and groan the following words, becoming lost in the pleasure. “You want me to fuck your ass now, don’t you?”
The strained words dripping in temptation leave your mind racing, the sudden heat of pleasure now mixing with embarrassment that leaves you unable to answer the question. A rush of warmth floods your body, inside your mind already begging him for more, but too ashamed to speak the words yourself.
It’s not until he thrusts into you once again with more force to leave you gasping for air do you realize not answering him isn’t good enough, and his motions stall with his cock buried deep inside of you. With your thighs quivering, you begin rolling your hips against him to cause friction, to ease the ache, and to continue the pleasure he was once offering, but he grips your waist with a careful grip to keep your body still while he catches his own breath that was lost in the moment. He focuses on anything but the feeling of you tightening your walls around his cock, drawing out the moment until you give him an answer.
“Tell me, baby,” he begins, tone shaky, panting between words and pausing long enough to keep his control, “what do you want?”
You exhale his name, eyes closing as you move your body to grind your dripping cunt against his cock to receive the bliss that had once taken over. 
“Do you want my cock in your ass? Do you want me to fuck you and make you come, baby? Tell me.”
Each question sends a shiver through your body before a surge of heat follows quickly behind. The words drive you wild and his desire to pleasure you pushes away the embarrassment and the shame, until you can’t help but to tell him what you need with a shaking, unsteady voice. “Yes,” you whisper, eyes still closed, heart racing, “I want you to… to fuck my ass. Please, make me… make me come.” 
“That’s my good girl,” he coos while beginning to drag himself out of you and thrust back into you in the slowest of motions to draw out the moment. You whimper and shake beneath him, on edge and needing more, and it’s almost as if he caused you to reach this point so you would no longer be concerned with asking for what you need, and instead crave the pleasures he wishes to give you in unfamiliar ways. 
He finally pulls himself out of you, allowing your legs to fall when he leans back to reach for the bottle he left on the coffee table. As he pops the top and begins to coat his fingers in the clear lubricant, your stomach twists and turns and flutters with a million nerves, except now it’s from the desire to get off from something new. You watch him take his time, the lubricant dripping down his two fingers before he sets the bottle aside and lathers every inch of the digits in careful preparation. 
“Stay relaxed, baby,” he warns, soft, gentle tone returning as one hand sinks between your thighs and the other rests carefully just below your belly button. As he presses the tips of his fingers to your ass, your body tightens until the thumb of the other hand finds your clit. He teases and toys with the swollen, aching bud to ease the tension from within you while coating your rim with his two fingers. Warmth floods your body all over again, bolts of electric pleasure from him caressing your clit coursing through you to mix with the way he circles your ass has left your heart racing and your head spinning.
Once he feels you’re relaxed enough, he dares to go further by beginning to insert a single finger inside of you, pushing past your tightened entrance in the slowest of motions. A gasp falls from your lips and your eyes shut tight, concentrating on the feeling of him slipping into your ass while circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. The feeling of something so unfamiliar mixed with the pleasure he offers earns a quiet whimper of his name, and he allows you to adjust to the sensation for a moment before he slowly pumps the digits in and out of you with care.
You can’t help but to moan as he does so, finding the bliss doubling, your thighs parting, and him taking care of you just like he promised. Your hips begin to move with his motions, falling into the pleasure before your mind has time to remind you of embarrassment, or shyness, or anything else that may stop you from fulfilling your fantasy. He continues to pleasure you, pumping the single digit in and out of your ass while caressing your clit with his thumb, loving the way your legs twitch and your hips roll, enjoying the noises you make that tell him how incredible he’s making you feel.
After he’s sure you’re adjusted, he inserts another finger, and this time your gasp is much louder before you grow silent. The stretch is a bit more awkward, and takes a bit more time to get used to, but he takes care of you, allowing you enough time to adjust and feel comfortable, and soon, as he pumps two digits in and out of you, you’re whimpering his name and rocking your hips with his motions. 
“How does that feel, baby?” he asks just to make sure. He always loves to communicate with you, you’re well aware, and in the moment you’re thankful he isn’t only careful, but persistent in making sure you’re comfortable. Even if he gets a bit dominant, and his words tease and taunt you when they’re spoken on a strained, desperate tongue, he’s always gentle and mindful of your pleasure and comfort. “Talk to me,” he echoes the importance of communication, and a subtle, playful grin crosses your lips before you’re moaning his name once again.
“It feels… so damn good.” You bite your lip as you try to steady your breathing with a heavy exhale through your nose, gripping the leather cushion beneath you as your eyes flutter. “Fuck, it feels so good… I-I might come.”
You’re positive if he were to keep it up, you would be growing close to the edge of your release in no time. After all, he knows just how to touch, how to please, and how to work your body up and make you come undone after so long of being together, just as you know how to do the same to him. 
“You can’t come yet, baby,” he warns, and even if he knows exactly what to do to get you to the edge of pure bliss, you both know your desires aren’t completely fulfilled, “I haven’t fucked you, yet.” The way his voice deepens with the words only draws you closer to the end of your release, finding a raspier, dominating tone doing nothing but tempting you with added pleasure.
You cry out, wanting desperately to come, but also wanting to finally have him inside of you like you have been needing all along, “please… fuck me.” You’re nearly ashamed of your own voice sounding so desperate, so weak and in need as each syllable trembles off the tip of your tongue, but in the moment it’s hard to care when he has you so worked up, body aching to come. 
The smirk on his lips tells you he understands your need, but he spends a few more moments pumping his fingers inside of you, stretching you out to a comfortable position, prepping you for his cock so you will feel nothing but pleasure. 
He finally pulls away to reach for the bottle once again, this time allowing a generous amount to spill over his cock before he’s tossing the lubricant aside and beginning to stroke himself. He preps his cock for you, making sure he’s lubricated enough to slip inside of you effortlessly, and when he’s sure he’s ready, he begins to align the head to your ass. You take a deep breath as his hand returns to rest against your mound, thumb finding your clit just as he begins to push himself past your rim.
You cry out, eyes screwing shut, not prepared in the least bit for the pressure you begin to experience. He pauses in an instant, though he continues to rub circles into your clit while feeling your thighs trembling around him. “O-Okay,” you stutter, not bothering to open your eyes from the embarrassment rising in the moment due to the surprise of the sensation when he began to ease into you. 
He begins once again, taking his time, remaining careful and cautious as you shake beneath him, but you don’t stop him a second time. He pushes inside of your ass, little by little while easing the tension with pleasure to your clit. You take deep breaths while adjusting to him, thankful he’s so attentive to the way your body responds, the noises you make, and most of all when you give him the signal to keep going. 
He pauses the moment his cock is buried completely in your ass, allowing you to adjust to the new sensation. Your mind buzzes and the room spins around you with your body so full of him, but the pleasure he offers soon takes over, and the feeling doesn’t feel quite as overwhelming, but an added bliss to the circles he caresses over your clit. It only takes a few more moments for you to gather the courage to move your hips, to tell him you want more, and when he pulls out to ease into your ass once again, the heat surges to every limb as pure ecstasy takes hold. 
You moan his name and reach to wrap shaking fingers around his wrist, nails leaving marks against his skin as he thrusts into you once again. 
“Does it feel good?” he asks with the words straining against his tongue, too wrapped up in the moment. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”
“Good,” you cry out without hesitation, succumbing to the pleasure as the tension builds between your thighs. “It feels… so fucking good, don’t… don’t stop.” Your voice wavers more with every shaky syllable as you tell him what he needs to hear. The words convince him you’re ready for more as he thrusts a bit harder, and bit deeper, fucking your ass just like the video you showed him while continuing to draw you closer to your peak with circles against your clit. You whimper and moan and call out his name, begging him not to stop, begging for more while getting lost in the bliss and drowning out all of your worries in the moment. He gives you what you ask him for, pumping himself inside of you quicker, harder, sending surges of pure bliss and heat to every inch of your body as you tighten your walls around his cock and begin dripping arousal down to your ass, making a wet, sloppy mess while the noises mix with your cries of bliss.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing so tight, baby,” he groans as his hips slow, but he applies more pressure to your clit. “You feel so fucking good.” 
From the words you’re aware he won’t last much longer and wants to put your pleasure first, so you begin rocking your hips against his cock to receive more of him, feeling the pressure build, then tension tighten, and the heat of pure ecstasy swell until everything snaps. The pleasure surges to every limb as your back arches, your head rolls back, and you grip his wrist tighter while coming undone. Your hips buck against him and he never pulls away from pleasuring your clit, feeling your walls contract around him as your juices spill to coat his flesh and your own, and the moans fall from your lips over and over until your body grows limp.
You pant and huff and puff to catch your breath, continuing to shake as he begins easing himself in and out of you once again. You gasp from the sensitivity, but his slow, careful motions coax you down from the high and ease your body all the more as he begins fucking your ass to get himself off. He bites his lip and furrows his brow before gripping your hips to hold you steady, burying himself deep within your walls to have you whimpering his name and urging him to come.
He thrusts a few more times, jaw falling slack and sweat beading at his temple, and you stare up at him to admire the sight of his features twisted in pure pleasure as he fills your ass over and over with his cock. His grip on your hips tightens just as he quickens his pace just a bit more, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass mixing with his own groans and your whimpering encouragements, telling him how good it feels, telling him you want him to come, drawing him closer to his own end until the pleasure builds and snaps.
He grunts and pulls out of your ass, quickly gripping his cock and pumping his length so his cum begins to spill onto your drenched slit. The thick, white ropes paint your skin, mixing with your own arousal as he releases between your thighs. His body tightens, muscles tensing, chest heaving, and after the last drop hits your skin, he exhales the deepest breath before he pulls away to allow his body to melt into the couch. 
You both take a moment to catch your breaths, coming down from the new experience and allowing the moment to register in your minds. The shyness begins to take hold once again, suddenly finding yourself grinning and a bit giggly as he reaches for the towel he prepared and begins cleaning you, taking care of you. He can’t help but to grin as well between places a few soft kisses against your lips, but neither of you say much as you try to gather yourselves. He finishes wiping between your thighs as a few more giggles slip from your lips, and then he focuses on himself while you wrap yourself up in your robe once again.
The moment he’s finished cleaning up until he can take a hot shower (in which you will join him for, though you already had one), you lean in to press your lips against his cheek, and in a way you silently thank him for being so open to trying new things, and patient enough to make you feel completely comfortable with him. 
309 notes · View notes
writerpetals · 5 months
Text
between then and forever | ❤️
; optional male lead fluff |  ☁️
w; kinda angsty. mentions of anxiety.
He can tell when you’re getting low again. When your mental health is at its worst and sometimes you cry, or become distant. Other times you’re overwhelmed before you shut down, keeping quiet, keeping him at arm’s length and he doesn’t know how to help you, or where to even begin to try. 
Lately, he realizes the stresses, the insecurities, the anxieties pile on and release in the form of irritation, and you lash out in small ways, but it’s noticeable to him. You might not kiss him as often, or say I love you as much your heart wants to. And it doesn’t take long for him to begin to lose hope. He gets upset and angry, too. He’s only human. 
The two of you had an argument the night before. He can hardly remember what started it, but he recalls the topic of visiting his parents for the upcoming holiday popping up, while you made excuses not to go. It’s not that you don’t want to join him on a trip to see his family. After being with him for so long, you’ve grown to love them just as much as you love him, but home seems so much safer and your mind spins with a million worries of why you should cancel your plans of visiting. 
It’s a long trip back home. How much money will you spend? Who will check on your place while you’re away? Will you be able to hold it together around his family? Will they notice? Will they even care?
He already knew the questions running through your mind, just like they always do when you get like this. When you’re so burdened with your own thoughts that you can’t crawl out of the negativity long enough to realize it’s only your mind being cruel to you. He knows how you get. He’s only human, after all, and he becomes frustrated with the vicious cycle. 
You worry. He tries to comfort you. You push him away, out of guilt, or out of your own thoughts convincing you he can’t help anyway. The two of you went to bed in silence after that. No goodnight kisses or I love you’s. He didn’t even hold you to keep you warm, but he was scared of being pushed away for a second time. 
You have already left for work by the time the sun peeking through the blinds pulls him from his slumber, and part of him regrets not being able to make amends after waking up to an empty, cold bed. He glances at his phone after pulling it off the charger in hopes of there being a message from you like there would be a normal day, but all he gets is a reminder for a meeting next Thursday, and a notification of a few spam emails. 
He sighs and wonders if he should reach out, but he has his own insecurities. It crushes his heart each time you turn away when he tries to help, and each time it hurts a little more than the last. The rational part of him knows you don’t want to be a burden, and the part that loves you screams at him to stop at nothing to help you. The more human part, that’s afraid, and worried, and sometimes gets down as well, has him putting his phone back on the nightstand before he jumps out of bed to get dressed. 
You remain on his mind all morning, and his heart is heavy. He wonders about your day, but now he’s waited too long to ask how it’s going. After breakfast he shakes his head as he realizes he’s being ridiculous. You’re not strangers. He loves you, and cares, and he runs to grab his phone to send you a message, but his hands are heavy and his fingers just don’t seem to move as he stares at your previous conversation on the screen. He reads the last two messages, telling one another I love you, and you’ll see each other soon. That was two days before the weekend, where you would spend Saturday beginning to clean out old winter clothes and shoes from your closets and dressers you realize you never wear in hopes of making more room in your small enough space you live, and Sunday when you would argue after eating take-out before falling asleep without words.
He loses his nerve, and he hates himself for it. He isn't sure why, because it’s never been as bad as this. He remembers all the times your mental health would dip and he would be right there comforting you, putting the pieces back together, and offering a shoulder to cry on.  Why does he feel so hopeless? Why does it feel so much worse this time?
With his shoulders slumped, he sighs and looks over the two bags full of coats and sweaters that haven’t been worn in years. You always loved your spring cleaning, hoping to have a fresh start somewhere and feel like you could breathe a little better. So he gets the idea that he should help on his day off, making his way to the closet to swing the door open and pull the chain to the light. Maybe if he makes some progress, neither of you will feel as suffocated. 
He gets to work taking care of his clothes, at least. He tosses an old sweater his grandmother knitted for him to the side, smiling while remembering how he told you it was itchy, and ugly, and was too big for him, but kept it because you couldn’t stop talking about how sweet a gift it was. He reaches for a varsity jacket and some t-shirts with old bands from high school days next, wondering why he ever kept them so long when he hasn’t touched a single one since he graduated and moved into this place with you. He shakes his head and tosses them into a pile on top of the full garbage bag next to the closet.
He fingers through the rest of the clothes on the hangers one by one, deciding most of the items are yours and he doesn’t want to give away something you might need. Instead, he reaches for a pair of old sneakers on the shelf above, noticing the dirty laces and stains on the soles, nose wrinkling when he realizes they don’t smell too fresh, either. He chucks them aside with a careless toss behind him and reaches up to the shelf again, standing on his tiptoes and his palms skim farther back until his knuckles bump into a box. He reaches a bit more to grab the edge, wondering if he’s somehow forgotten that he placed another pair inside, and brings it out down his chest.
The box is lighter, so it’s definitely not shoes. He reads over the sparkling decorated box top a moment later, smiling when he sees your name outlined with pink and purple markers, and a warning in bold, black letters that says to keep out. His grin widens as confusion takes over. Clearly it’s something you have kept from high school as well, and as he settles on the floor in front of the closet, he flips off the top to take a look inside. 
Little folded up pieces of paper grab his attention. The edges are crumpled and torn a bit, but what catches his eye is spotting his own name in black ink soaked through the paper. His brow furrows as he sets the box in front of his criss-crossed legs before unfolding the paper, heart racing and smile returning to his lips as he recognizes your writing and reads the note to your best friend dated August 22nd.
Did you see the new kid? Apparently he just transferred here. He’s kind of cute, but he talks too much and his jokes aren’t that funny. Anyway, if I get paired up with the new kid AGAIN for labs I’m going to be pissed. Why can’t we have classes together this year? Love you~
He chuckles and reads the note for a second time, remembering how nervous he was so many years ago to be going to a new high school. He didn’t have many friends, but he tried to remain friendly with a positive attitude, and it didn’t take long to fit in. Though, he was curious of the student sitting next to him which turned out to be you, the one he would glance at from the corner of his eye just to get a peek at you to make his heart flutter. The one he would watch playing with their hair while chewing on the cap to their pen, and the one he would eventually fall in love with, though you had no idea.
He can’t stop smiling as he sets the note aside to pick another from the box, noticing the date is only a month after the last. 
I really HATE HIM. I hate his smile, and the way it makes my heart race. I hate his dumb jokes, and I hate that I can’t help but to laugh at them because I hate that he’s actually kind of funny and fun to be with. I hate how he smells so nice, and how deep his voice gets when he’s talking to only me. I hate his beautiful eyes, and cute nose, and how soft his lips look. I hate that I want to kiss him. Why do I want to kiss him? I hate it. I hate him. I hate how his hands brush against mine when we’re working on this stupid project and I HATE that I got partnered with him.
Help me. I hate it because I like it so much. :(
He can hardly contain his laughter as he reads the words. He remembers getting paired with you and thinking he was so lucky to have his partner be the one he was crushing on at the beginning of senior year. He can even recall the smell of your hair when he would get close enough, how it always had a hint of coconut that reminded him of the beach. His heart flutters the same way when he thinks about the two of you alone, trying to concentrate on the project but he would get lost in your eyes whenever you looked at him, and he couldn’t stop smiling even though you would smack your lips and tell him to focus because there’s no way you’re getting less than an A. 
You were apparently a lot better at hiding your feelings than he was, and he realizes as much as he pulls the next note from the box, unfolding it and allowing the words to take him back in time.
So I don’t know if that nosy boyfriend of yours told you or not, but the new kid asked me to the dance and I know we promised each other that they are stupid and not worth the stress of doing dumb stuff like picking out dresses and spending so much money but… since it’s him that asked me, I kind of want to go. I don’t know why. I’ll look stupid trying to keep up with him at a dance. I’m nervous but I think I’ll hate myself if I tell him no. Plus… I bet he looks amazing in a tux.
p.s. Nosy boyfriend if you’re reading this over her shoulder again, I will literally kill you. 
He keeps his grin from growing wider by biting his lip, images of that night flashing in his mind. You ended up telling him yes, picking out dresses with your best friend while she had plans to go to the dumb, expensive dance with her boyfriend. When the four of you arrived at the hotel, you became so nervous from the large crowd that you whispered in his ear after pulling him aside, asking if the two of you could skip the dance all together. You told him you felt horrible, and he kept it to himself that it didn’t matter to him if the two of you went or not, as long as he got to spend the night with you. You ended up in a 24/7 restaurant down the street, pigging out on pancakes and bacon he bought with the twenty bucks his dad gave him, and you talked for hours getting to know one another. You told him you still felt guilty, but all he remembers is it being one of the best nights of his life. 
Another note is snatched up from the box, and he can hardly control the smile on his lips as he reads, noticing little read hearts drawn around the words as the butterflies fill his stomach.
The new kid has the softest lips I’ve ever kissed. That’s all...
He remembers your first kiss like it was yesterday. He lacked the nerve to kiss you the night of the dance, and he hated himself for it. He went home thinking about kissing you, dreaming about kissing you, waking up dying to kiss you. He made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t chicken out the next time he saw you, and that following week he asked you out for a study date to the same small diner you got to know one another in. He tried to focus on homework and upcoming tests, but it became difficult the more you talked and the more he thought about the moment your lips would touch and he would feel like he was on cloud nine.
He took you home a few hours later, the two of you lingering near your front door. He wondered if maybe your parents were watching and he should give up then, but the confidence took hold of him as he thought it’s now or never. With a shaky hand, he lifted your chin in the gentlest of motions, leaning in slowly, pressing his lips to yours and he felt like time stood still. Even in the cool breeze the heat washed over him, and when he felt you kiss him back he knew he could never be happier than in that moment. 
Later you would laugh while telling him how your mother just knew something happened between the two of you from the look on your face. You couldn’t stop smiling no matter how hard you tried to play it off, making it clear as day just how happy he made you as well.
He can’t resist picking up another note, but his heart begins to ache just a bit as he takes in the words, dried ink running on the page in ripples from your tears while you scribbled your thoughts down. 
We had a fight. Our first fight. I know couples fight, but I didn’t know it would feel so terrible. I’m mad at him, but I feel guilty. I don’t even remember what started it. I just got mad, slammed the car door, and ran inside when he dropped me off. I thought he would come after me, but he didn’t. Now I’m even angrier, but I miss him. I hate fighting with him. I hate being without him… I don't care anymore what the fight was about. I just wish I could kiss him, and hear him tell me everything was alright. 
At that age, any fight feels like the end of the world. Any problem feels like the worst thing to ever happen, and it becomes so easy to lose hope. Luckily for the two of you, you were able to talk through your feelings and work past them, just like you always promised to do from then on out. He has always been by your side, no matter the problem. No matter how hard the times get or how often the two of you get mad at one another. You’ve always been thankful for him being so understanding and patient with you, and he’s always appreciated the way you trust him with your heart to be one of the few people you would let in.
He picks up another note, though the thought crosses his mind that maybe he’s reading more than he should be allowed to see. He makes a mental note to explain to you how he happened to come across the box thinking it was nothing more than shoes, and how his curiosity got the best of him, hoping you won’t be too upset at him prying on your high school notes to your best friend.
He unfolds the paper, and notices this one is longer than the rest as the date reads April 29th.
My parents have been fighting nonstop. I hate hearing the yelling. I go to bed hearing them arguing, I wake up to doors slamming. I hate the loud noises. It’s hard to sleep. I feel like I’m drowning in all of it because they don’t even care how I feel anymore. I can’t breathe most of the time, and most of the time I sneak around because when they’re not yelling at each other, they’re yelling at me… or worse. Sometimes I don’t even want to live anymore, but I have you and him to make it better. I snuck him in my room last night. I wanted to sleep feeling safe for once. I wanted to drown them out for once, instead of being lost. I fell asleep on his chest and he held me all night long, and we made it out of the house before sunrise. I don’t know what I would do without him. He helps me breathe better. I think clearly with him. He comforts me without any words. He stays by my side and guides me through my worst moments, when I can’t stop crying, when I can’t even take a deep breath. He’s so patient with me, it’s almost too good to be true. I don’t deserve him. I wish I was a better person, so I could be what he needs, because he is everything I need. I want to tell him I’m sorry that I am the way I am, but I’m a coward because I don’t want to face it. I hope he never gives up on me. I love him. I swear I’m going to be with him forever.  
It takes a few seconds for him to remember how to breathe. Guilt fills his chest, believing more than ever that he shouldn’t have been so nosy. It’s like listening in on a private conversation. Before, the notes were innocent, and cute, and filled his stomach with butterflies. But the memories come flooding back of all the nights you called him upset, but were too afraid to tell him why. All those times you would cry, but couldn’t explain the tears, and all the times he held you close, not needing a reason other than he loved you, and he would do anything to make it better. 
After the last note, he folds the papers and places them back in the box, but before he can stand to return it to the shelf, the sound of keys entering the lock at the front door interrupts him. How long did he spend reminiscing? Long enough for you to be home from work, he realizes, leaving the box and hopping to his feet to greet you. 
He spots you slipping your heels off at the door with a tired look on your face and a bag of take-out in your hand, but there’s a light flickering in your eyes the moment they land on him. You open your mouth to speak, to apologize for the night before and tell him you got dinner from his favorite place, but his arms wrapping around your body to pull you against his chest stop you. 
He holds you close without words. You melt into his embrace. He’s always so warm, so comforting and gentle and patient, just like he was from the first time you needed it. You return a half-hug due to one arm holding the food, but the stresses melt away in that moment. Nothing else matters when he holds you like it’s the last time he’ll see you. None of those cruel thoughts can harm you, or worries of the past or present can resurface when you’re with him, and now it all seems so silly to worry over little things that don’t matter in the first place.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says, and it catches you off guard. You assumed you should be the one apologizing to him after making excuses not to visit his family, getting upset, and then pushing him away, but he squeezes you tighter and repeats the words. “I’m sorry for last night. I didn’t mean to brush you off like your feelings aren’t real. I know how real it is, and I’m… I’m sorry.”
He loosens his grip, but keeps his hands on your hips, and you look up at him just as the tears begin to well in your eyes. “I really don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that,” he tells you with a shake of his head, and his tone is stern, as if he’s more serious than he’s ever been. “Please, don’t say that. You deserve me because you love me. That’s all I could ever ask for. We deserve each other because no matter how many arguments we get into, we know we’ll always work it out. And I deserve you because you always see the best in me, and you never give up on me, either.” 
His words have your heart beating twice as fast, leaving you speechless while wondering where all of this is coming from. It’s not like your anxieties are anything new, leaving you with moments to push him away only to try to make it up to him after talking through it and working out the problem. But there’s something different this time. 
“Where is this coming from?” you ask, sniffling as the first tear hits your cheek. He doesn’t hesitate to brush your face with his thumb, soothing you just like he always does. “Why are you making me cry like this?” He chuckles and leans in, pressing his lips to your own, allowing time to stop, the heat to wash over both of you, and when you pull away, neither of you can stop smiling. 
“I have to be honest,” he begins, heart pounding against his chest, “I was going to finish cleaning out the clothes from the closet and I came across this box…”
“Oh no.” Your eyes grow wide. “Not the box, right?” His face falls flat, and you can’t help but to giggle from alarming him.
“A box with notes in it…”
You smack your lips, playfully rolling your eyes. “She gave me that box when she moved out and was clearing out her old bedroom. She told me I would need those notes to read over whenever you and I had a fight, but I guess… you read them?”
He nods bashfully, lowering his head and grinning like a child. “I got curious, and after reading the first few about how much you hated me, I couldn’t stop.”
“Oh, God!” You shove the bag of food in his grasp before covering your face with your hands. You can feel the warmth swelling your cheeks, embarrassed that your highschool sweetheart read those notes about him when the two of you were actually in high school. Oh, how young and in love you were, being dramatic over the smallest of things, but you recall the time spent with him the best times of your life. It doesn’t hurt that you feel each day gets better, and each moment you feel luckier than the last. “I didn’t hate you, obviously. I actually, really, really liked you from the first moment I saw you, but you know how it is.”
“Mhm,” he hums with a smirk, but all smiles fade before his tone turns serious. “I did read a note that made me realize something, though.”
“What’s that?” you ask, reaching for him to wrap arms around his neck, and leaning closer to press your lips against his in a chast kiss before he begins to explain. “I know times get hard, and we will have our arguments. All couples do. But I promise you, I’ll always remain patient with you, and I’ll always stick by your side, if you allow me to. If you let me in, I’ll never stop trying to help you, whatever the problem is. I want to always be here for you, to wipe your tears, or comfort you, or give you a shoulder to cry on, but please, don’t push me away, okay? You will never be a burden to me. I love you.”
Listening to his words with love and care in every syllable has the tears falling again. Even with a bag of take-out between the two of you, you lean in and kiss his lips in a promise that you won’t push him away anymore. He’s always been the one you leaned on in hard times, and he’s the reason you’ve made it this far. And in that moment, you swear for the second time that you will be with him forever. 
174 notes · View notes
writerpetals · 5 months
Text
rain | ❤️
; optional female lead fluff |  ☁️
// drabbles based on the prompt "rain"
; cuddle weather
She’s the happiest when it rains. She sits in front of the window with the curtains wide, blinds open. The rain drops cascade down the fogged up glass while she peers out as the leaves of the big oak tree in the front yard blowing in the breeze. She’s completely content even though the sounds of thunder in the distance distract her from the romance novel in her lap, sipping the hot cocoa in her steaming mug and humming with satisfaction.
It’s grown a bit too chilly for your liking, but luckily the fix to that is striking a match over a small log in the fireplace. The crackling wood fills the living room to mix with the pitter-patter against the windowsill, and you make your way to her to snuggle up on the couch and get warm.
“I love it when it rains,” she tells you for the hundredth time. Hearing her say it, however, never fails to make your heart swell. It’s a little fact about her you love so much, and you love it even more when she’s so at peace as she stares with a soft smile on her lips. “I don’t know… it’s just… relaxing, I guess.”
You agree with a grin of your own, bringing the rim of the mug in your hands to your lips to try the hot cocoa she prepared. “Me too. It puts you in a good mood.” Together you share giggles between the two of you before she bites her lip because you know her so well.
“Well, not only the rain,” she begins, taking it upon herself to grab the mug from your hands before she sets hers and your own on the coffee table to her right, “but being here with you, too.”
“Oh?” you question with a raise of your brow.
“Mhm,” she hums, a wide, gummy smile on her lips as she tugs the sleeve of your oversized sweater to pull you closer. “It’s always the perfect cuddling weather.”
You have to agree as your head falls to her chest, allowing her to wrap her comforting arms around your body while you listen to her heartbeat. The pitter-patter of rain. The crackling of the fire. The soft sigh that leaves her lips.
She’s right. It’s perfect for cuddling, and you love the rain just as much.
; living a little
“You’re going to get sick!” You call to her as you rush after the child-like giggles filling the air, mixing with the raindrops hitting the ground and the breeze that sends a chill down your spine. “Come back in! Are you crazy?”
“It’s the first time it’s rained in so long,” she shouts over her shoulder seconds before she looks toward the sky. The rain hits her face in soft splashes against her skin, cascading down her neck and chest as she giggles. Her t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers are soaked, not even having bothered to grab a coat before rushing out into the rain without control. Her excitement got the better of her, you now realize. Or maybe she just needs to be carefree and do something spontaneous once in a while.
“I swear if you get sick…” You frown while shivering, tugging your wool coat tighter against your body as you stand on the front porch of your home. “If you make me sick…!”
“Come on!” She motions with a wave of her hand before giggling and brushing her fingers through her dripping wet hair. “Come here and kiss me!”
“As tempting as that sounds, love…” You groan, even pouting a little as she raises her arms and spins around in the front yard. Even the thunder booming from the other side of town does nothing to distract her. She has no worries as she plays in the rain and begs for you to join her.
“Live a little!”
“Can’t do that if I’m sick!” You sigh, shoulders slumping because you already know you can’t tell her no. “Or if I’m taking care of you!”
All she can do is laugh more, her beautiful smile still shining beneath the haziness and the warmth swelling in your chest has you making your way to her. In a rush of adrenaline, each step is quicker than the last, becoming lost in the moment as the raindrops soak through your clothes to chill your flesh, but it doesn’t matter once you’re in her arms. She pulls you close, wet lips meeting your own, laughter warming your flesh within the kiss.
Even if you will both be sick, she’s right. Sometimes you just have to live a little.
; umbrella
As the rain seeps through your sweatshirt to dampen the shivering skin beneath, you curse yourself for not bringing your umbrella. It’s not that far of a walk home, you remember thinking while spotting the flashes of lightning and hearing the booming thunder off in the distance. You’ll make it home before the thunderstorm.
Of course you were wrong, now tugging your dripping coat closer to your body as your boots splash through the puddles on the sidewalk. At least the hood of your sweatshirt keeps most of your face and hair dry, but you’re aware as it begins to rain harder with every step you take it won’t last long.
Not to mention being stuck at a slightly busy intersection has your feet stalling when all you want to do is make it home before you’re shriveled up. The red light keeps you from crossing the street as the cars roll past. Some of the tires even splash water over your jeans, soaking you more and causing you to shiver as you curse beneath your breath.
“Here,” a small, soft voice says behind you, almost unheard until you feel the warmth of someone’s presence next to you. Before you know it the rain is no longer beating against your clothes as you look up, noticing the umbrella suddenly covering you. “It’s too cold to be walking in the rain without cover,” the voice says with a giggle, causing you to turn to notice a shy smile and worried eyes.
“Oh, thank you,” is all you can say before you’re biting your lip to hide your own grin.
“Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. I just saw you getting soaked and—”
“No, no! It’s okay,” you immediately reassure her, sharing laughter between you as the rain thumps against the top of the umbrella and cascades around you. You’re already a little warmer even though you remain wet, and dripping, and dying for the moment you can make it home to shower and change into something warm. “I really appreciate it. I didn’t expect it to flood on my way home.” Still, the kind stranger offering to keep you somewhat dry helps a little.
“That’s the best thing about this time of year. You never know when the bottom will fall out.” You have to agree with her sarcasm, giggling as she smiles wide and steps a little bit closer to make sure she stays dry, telling you her name in the process.
For a second, you only smile and repeat the name in your mind before telling her your own. She hums in approval with a nod of her head only a moment before you’re both chuckling again.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you tell her, feeling all the warmth from her presence rushing to your cheeks. “Thanks for offering me your umbrella… and trying to keep me dry even though I think it’s a lost cause at this point.”
She giggles more as she looks up and down your dripping, shivering frame. “Well, it’s the least I could do to help after seeing you get splashed with water,” she tells you with a smirk. “But if you want to get out of the rain, we should probably make our way across now.”
You look ahead to notice the light has turned green for you to cross, having forgotten all about needing to get home thanks to her kind gesture. Her cute smile and the warmth of her being so close surely didn’t hurt, either.
; getting warm
With her hand in yours, you both race through the rain as your feet stomp in the mud and struggle to keep up with her long legs. She’s quicker than you realized, wanting to get out of the thunderstorm just as much as you do, but she doesn’t leave you behind, only squeezing your hand tighter until you’re beneath the shelter of a dry front porch.
What started out as a slow walk home to enjoy one another’s company after a movie date turned into rushing to stay dry. When you realized it was a lost cause, rain drenching your clothes and your hair as you struggle not to slip on wet dirt and rocks once you begin running, the only thing you could do was laugh when she grabbed your hand to pull you along. Now you stand dripping and grinning as you stare at each other, the rain pouring down around you, thunder roaring in the distance just after the lightning bolts through the sky.
“It’s so cold,” you tell her, wrapping your arms around your body and quivering, the chill of cold air rushing down your spine. She chuckles and shakes her head while peeling her green flannel shirt from her body to begin wringing out.
“Take your clothes off,” is all she says, causing your brows to raise. Though she and you aren’t an official couple, only having cute dates and movie nights here and there because you enjoy being together so much, you weren’t expecting such an offer so suddenly. “Not like that, silly. I just don’t want to make a mess everywhere.”
You bite your lip as the heat floods your face, knowing she can read your expressions as if they were her own. “Oh, okay.” You turn away from her to pull your sweatshirt over your head before removing your shoes, peeking every now and then over your shoulder to see her doing the same. Luckily for the two of you, the trees surrounding your home keep the two of you hidden away from prying eyes as you peel the soaked clothes from your body, and as soon as the two of you are in nothing but your t-shirts and underwear, you rush inside giggling. Either from the cold or being half-naked, you aren’t sure. You don’t mind either way.
“Go change. I’ll throw these in the washer.” You grab her clothes with your own to head to the laundry room while she changes into something warmer. By the time you toss the clothes in the washing machine and change into a large t-shirt and sweats, she is already in the living room with a big, comfy blanket waiting on you.
“Come here,” is all she says, a grin on her lips as she holds the blanket back to pat the spot next to her on the sofa. “Come get warm.”
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writerpetals · 5 months
Text
double pleasure | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
He makes the sexiest noises when you go down on him. Sometimes you think you could even get off on the sound alone. Luckily for you, he is incredible at oral pleasures himself, and is always itching to have his mouth on you.
“Do you like that, baby?” You ask to taunt him, palming him through his boxers while straddling his legs as he rests against the bed. All he can do is release a throaty moan that sends a shiver down your body. Eagerly, you pull the briefs down his tense thighs, allowing his erect cock to be on full display. He’s already so hard, throbbing with need and it makes your mouth water. You waste no time reaching for him, taking hold of the shaft, pumping it a few times just to have him completely worked up before sinking your mouth down onto him.
He hisses from the contact, immediately bucking his hips softly in response because he’s too needy. You take him all the way in, hearing the raspy moans and groans that you love so much. However, he still wants to taste you, realizing as much as he grips your thighs to urge you to turn around, pulling you close and positioning your naked body over his face. Your mouth returns to his cock with greed as your wet pussy hovers over his face now, giving him an incredible view before hungrily pulling you down by your hips.
Your body jerks at the sudden sensation of feeling his tongue slide up and down your dripping slit, all the while you still have him in your mouth. Your nails dig into his thigh as you circle the head of his cock with your tongue, causing him to release a vibration of moans against your clit. Your legs shake around his head and he starts to gently buck his hips to bury his cock past your lips, knowing it won’t be long before you are both reaching your peak.
You whimper his name, pulling away from his cock for a moment as your hand takes over. You can’t stop your hips from rolling to grind your pussy against his mouth, and he eagerly accepts. He laps at your soaked slit, swallowing the juices that have dripped out for him before returning to your clit. Your mind goes hazy. Your body is too weak. All you can focus on is his tongue against your flesh.
But a tap on your ass from his palm puts you back to work. You push his cock into your mouth, taking as much as you can though his pleasure has left you breathless. Your tongue massages his shaft while your hand pumping his length up and down takes care of the rest. Meanwhile, he never stops tasting you, circling your clit before dipping his tongue inside your dripping cunt. He groans as your juices drip down your throat and squeezes your ass harder to pull your body closer. He’s hungry with lust and a need to get you off, and the fact that you’re sucking his cock so well only fuels his desires. 
Eventually he can feel you getting close from the way your body trembles and how you pull away from him just to whimper his name. He takes hold of you, placing his hands on your hips to keep you in place, burying his tongue between your plump and swollen folds until you’re quivering with need. Only a few more seconds and you’re coming undone, coming against his tongue, dripping over his flesh and he loves every bit of it.
The high courses through your body in waves of pleasure and heat, and by the time you begin to come down you realize you still need to return the favor. Taking his cock in your mouth, your tongue swirls around the tip as a tight fists pumps the shaft. He’s groaning between your thighs still, but you know he’s close from feeling you get off so well. His hips buck beneath you as he becomes breathless, his fingers digging into your sides and it only drives you wild with the urge to continue.
Soon, he is spilling his cum in your mouth and you take every drop. Your fist milks his cock to receive every ounce of his pleasure on your tongue, becoming greedy for his release as his body tenses beneath you. And when he begins to come down is when you flick your tongue over the tip of his cock just to tease him and hear him hiss, giggling triumphantly when you eventually pull away from him. 
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writerpetals · 5 months
Text
when you watch | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
w; voyeurism/exhibitionism ... this was hard to edit with no names! LOL so bear with me! just have two people in mind that you like while reading this story ... one that you want performing and one you want watching hehe i know you can think of two cause we're all hoes around here anyway <3
His habit of falling asleep on the couch after spending half the night watching movies normally only earns him a sore back and heavy eyes the following day, but when he spots your boyfriend and you stumbling into the apartment he shares with you, he realizes tonight offers him a bit more. His sleepy eyes flutter open at the sound of a lock clicking, and your giggling as he notices your boyfriend’s head shoved into the crook of your neck only pulls him further from dreamland as he becomes wide awake.
He blinks to make sure he’s seeing correctly, but how could he miss the way you both slip off your shoes, pull your coats from your shoulders, and toss your keys aside before your arms wrap around the neck before you, which only makes him stir beneath the thin blanket that drapes over his body wearing nothing but gray sweats. His bare chest heaves at the sight of your head falling back against the apartment door, allowing your boyfriend’s lips and hands to wander, and it doesn’t take long for you to begin mumbling something about something that goes unheard.
Luckily, the apartment lighting is dim, and there’s no way for either of you to actually spot him awake. As long as he remains still, frozen, watching the scene unfold as his heart skips a beat when he catches a hand slip beneath your skirt.
“I wanna come,” you whine in a not so quiet whisper, and his eyes bulge at the sound of your playful voice traveling from the front door over to where he lays on the couch. He licks his lips, gulps, and yells at himself in his mind that he shouldn’t be watching, that he should roll over, close his eyes if he’s not going to make it known he’s awake.
But it wouldn't be the first time he’s listened in to the two of you. Even if he is catching the two of you in plain sight now, there have been nights before when he heard you moaning from the other room, telling him you’re getting close, whimpering that you’re coming. He would never admit to anyone that he’s gotten off to it more times than he’s proud to even realize, and he guesses it’s what keeps him from tearing his eyes away now.
You whimper once again in a breathless, needy voice that has his cock bulging beneath his sweatpants, an ache already setting in at just the thought of what’s about to take place. “Get on your knees.” The sight of your boyfriend dropping to the floor with no hesitation makes his cock twitch in his pants, finding it harder to sit still and not reveal that he’s awake. The last thing he needs is his roommate, and his roommate’s boyfriend, pissed at him for being a spying creep. Though he knows it’s anything but right, he can’t help himself.
The sound of your moans as your lover pushes your skirt higher and begins kissing over the fabric of your panties finally causes him to snap. He can’t resist reaching for his cock, beginning to palm himself over his sweats while remaining thankful the blanket is covering him for the most part. He supresses his own noises by biting down on his bottom lip, but his breaths grow heavy the moment he spots fingers sinking into the band of your panties, pulling the flimsy cotton down your legs to be tossed to the side.
Even in the dim lighting he can see your awaiting slit as your boyfriend props a leg over his shoulder a moment before leaning between your thighs once again, and God does the sight make him wish more than ever he was the one tasting you. But he settles for being a silent audience for now, never pulling his eyes away, and from the way you whimper your boyfriend’s name, he can only assume your folds are being teased by a diligent tongue.
The thought has him reaching with a shaky hand to push his sweats lower, uncovering his cock before wrapping a strong grip around the base. He tries his best not to make any sudden movements, but he guesses from the way your head is tossed back and your hips begin to roll that you’re far from paying attention to him. As he begins to stroke his own cock in slow, yet steady motions, he decides he doesn’t care in the moment. The sight of his roommate being eaten out by her boyfriend takes precedence, and between your moans, the face buried between your thighs, and him stroking his own cock, he can no longer care about right and wrong.
His breaths deepen just as your moans grow louder, and part of him wonders if you do it on purpose just so he will hear. Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind, he realizes as much as he begins to hear groans from between your thighs in the moment.  Your hands fall to grip the strands of hair below you, and he begins stroking himself quicker, tightening his grip while imagining how you taste. Part of him is envious it’s not him giving you pleasure, slipping his tongue between your folds, circling your clit, making you moan, and the other part is thankful he gets to witness such a sight that has his cock so painfully erect and twitching every time you whimper the other man’s name.
The pleasure overtakes the guilt in his chest, no longer worried over watching something he shouldn’t see, and not even worried over getting caught, but feeling the bliss fill his body as he runs his palm along his length, precum dripping from the tip, balls tightening against his body. He’s getting close and he’s barely even started, too affected by your moans, the sight of the mouth working between your legs, too focused on imagining how wet you are or how incredible it would feel to have your juices drip against his tongue.
His eyes close a moment later, keeping that vision of you pressed against the door with your boyfriend on his knees in his mind. He strokes himself quicker, twitching against his own palm each time you make a noise, biting his lip hard to try to keep his own groans in check, but he’s becoming weaker. He’s breathless and needy and wishes his face was buried between your legs. If not, he wishes he could watch freely, imagining what it would be like if the thought of him focused on the pleasure someone else gives you gets you off quicker. His cock twitches and his balls tighten at that, finding himself worked up all over again at just the idea of you being as into it as him.
He can feel himself getting close, and his eyes flutter open to take one last look at the two of you. Your boyfriend grips your thigh with a strong hold, fingers pressed so tightly to your skin and he is sure it’s to keep you from moving too wildly against his tongue. You’re worked up, getting close with your jaw slacked, legs trembling, causing him to wonder what it feels like if your thighs were wrapped around him as you come undone. He can feel the pressure building with your every whimper, the pleasure swelling as he watches, the tension tightening when he imagines being a part of the scene taking place by the front door.
Without warning he snaps, bliss unraveling inside him and thick, white ropes spilling onto his bare stomach. He’s breathless and needy as he tries to keep quiet, hips bucking into his hand, milking his cock for every last, messy drop that releases onto his flesh. He doesn’t stop pumping himself as he listens for the moment you gasp your lover’s name, finding your own ending with a skilled tongue between your thighs, and his head buzzes with the thought of the two of you getting off at the same time.
He barely has time to catch his breath before you’re pushing your boyfriend away with cute little giggles, being guided to the bedroom for clean up while he can breathe a sigh of relief in getting away with something. He waits for the click of your door before he moves, tiptoeing to the bathroom to find a rag to clean the mess he’s made over his stomach, rushing to finish so neither of you catch him.
Once he’s done, he tiptoes to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him and managing to fall asleep with a satisfied grin on his face, feeling as if he’s gotten away with the unthinkable.
Or at least, he assumes he has, until morning comes and you find him in the kitchen making a bowl of cereal. There’s a sly smirk on your lips that makes his heart sink, and the moment you narrow your eyes toward him with his mouth full of Captain Crunch, his stomach begins to twist at the possibility.
“Maybe you can join us next time instead of just watching,” you tell him, patting him on the shoulder as he leans against the counter, mouth full with a bowl in his hand. “It’s not like I haven’t heard you getting off to us before.”
He remains frozen in place, unable to move, or speak, or even breathe after realizing you were on to him the entire time, knowing he’s getting off to not only the sounds, but now the sight of the two of you.
“Don’t worry,” you begin again, pausing to search the fridge for orange juice, and turning to him with a wide smile after finding the carton, “it definitely helped me get off faster when you watch.”
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writerpetals · 5 months
Text
relax | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
“Hm, what are you doing?” You question your husband the moment you feel his presence behind you just after you jumped in the shower, with the steaming water now drenching both of your bodies as it cascades around you. Turning your head over your shoulder to look at him through the steam, you notice a grin on his lips before he leans in to press them to your own from behind you.
“Helping you take a shower,” is his only response once he pulls away and you turn to look straight ahead once more.
“I’m pretty sure I know how to shower myself.” Laughing, you feel his hands on your shoulders  before his palms slip down your arms to grip you at the waist. Then he pulls your back against his soaked chest to press your naked bodies together.
“I know, but you had a rough week at work, and I want to help you relax.”
“Oh?” You raise a brow, liking the idea and the sudden deep tone of his voice, making you wonder what his plans are for relaxation.
“Mhm,” he mumbles as his hands slip to your front, caressing your stomach in such a slow, gentle way it causes your eyes to close and your head to fall back against his shoulder. His naked, and now wet, body presses into you harder, allowing you to feel his arousal as he touches you.
“And what does that call for?” You question his methods as his fingertips brush higher, reaching your ribs and lingering for a moment if only to tease you.
“Would you like me to show you?” Without hesitation, you nod against his shoulder, but quickly become disappointed as he removes his hands from your body. Just as you open your mouth to protest, you hear him shuffling around behind you, before you feel his fingers against your scalp coated with the shampoo he is now applying.
The smell of mixed fruits sift through the steam of the shower as you close your eyes and feel him massage the shampoo in your hair, gently, and slowly, already off to a good start to relaxing you. Between his touch and the warmth of the stream, you can feel your muscles loosening the tension and your body melting under the comfort of being with him.
“Is that helping?” A chuckle fills the air from him, causing you to grin with your lids still shut lazily.
“Of course. I always love it when you wash my hair.” It isn’t something new, and by now he is an expert at the act, knowing just how gentle to be, knowing your favorite shampoo and forever knowing how to touch you for you to become putty in his hands.
After a few more moments of a relaxing massage to your head, he turns you around, allowing you to wash the suds from your hair as he eyes you up and down, getting a better view of your body beneath the shower’s stream, and now the shampoo, cascading down over every curve.
You notice his bitten lip, having difficulties concentrating on his task with the delicious sight before him. Which, of course, only makes you giggle, loving how he can make you feel so beautiful and so comfortable with him.
“So, what’s next?” You snap him out of his trance, watching his eyes finally trail back up to your own to meet you in a seductive gaze.
“The fun part.” He smirks.
You grin. “Oh, already?”
“No, not that fun part,” he corrects you, chuckling and knowing your mind is already drifting to the naughtiest of places. Before you can say another word, he reaches behind him to grab the clean washcloth you prepared for yourself and your bottle of body wash, squirting a generous amount into his palm covered by the cloth before lathering it up into a puddle of suds.
Then he pulls you close to him, pressing the cloth to your shoulder to work his way down your arm, then the other, finally landing on your chest where he takes his time. You can’t help but to moan softly, feeling the cloth graze over your breasts and nipples that harden beneath his touch. You close your eyes once more, but not before noticing his smirk as he lowers his washing to your stomach, making sure to lather up every inch.
Just as you think he is finally going to go lower, he makes sure to wash your back, upper and lower before spending a generous amount of time on your ass, causing you to giggle as he gives it a little squeeze.
“Tease,” you taunt.
“You love it.” Of course you do, and you also love how he massages your thighs with the cloth, before daring to dip between them, rubbing you gently and causing you to gasp from the sensation. Your eyes flutter open, noticing his mouth parted and the way he stares down, watching his hand disappear between your thighs, lingering long enough to give you pleasure.
You moan his name, suddenly reaching for his wrist to brace yourself as he drops the cloth, letting his fingers take its place. The water falls around your body to rid your skin of the suds as he begins to play, but you’re already lost in the moment. He brushes his fingertips over your folds, feeling how, even if your body was wet, he can still feel you dripping out your arousal over his flesh.
“Now here comes the fun part,” he says, poking fun just as he parts your folds and you shut your eyes from the contact. He dips just the tip of his index finger inside your warmth, allowing your juices to coat his flesh before he draws the digit up to your clit.
Suddenly your body slumps against the wall, letting him stand in front of you and apply more pressure to your clit, pleasuring you with slow circles around and around.
“No teasing,” you warn him. He was right when he said you had a rough week, and you aren’t in the mood for him taking things slow or drawing things out. You need him, you need that release from him, and with the way he is staring down at you, you know he isn’t going to deny you what you want.
A moment later he pulls your thigh up to rest on his hip, before gripping himself in his hand, pumping a few times while positioning himself at your soaked entrance. His lips meet yours just as he begins easing himself in and you can’t suppress your moan against his mouth upon feeling him enter.
He sinks his cock all the way inside your heat, taking a moment to allow you to adjust as he kisses your lips, slowly running his tongue over your bottom lip before slipping inside to caress. Then his hips begin moving, with light, sensual motions and one hand grips your thigh as the other holds your body to the wall by your hip.
“Tell me how that feels, baby,” he encourages you, nipping at your lips between words and taking his time with his pace, and suddenly you don’t care to rush. You love how he feels when he is inside of you, and you could stay in the shower with him for as long as he would allow.
“So good,” you whimper your reply breathlessly, feeling him slowly draw his hips away, only to glide back in even slower. He repeats the motion, making love to you as passionately as he knows how, wanting to savor the way your walls tighten around him every time he thrusts back in, and wanting to keep in his mind forever the way your lips parted as moans fill his ears, almost being drowned out by the sounds of the stream hitting your flesh.
“Please,” you beg him, loving how he loves you, but being too worked up to not need release.
He follows your words, quickening his pace just a little as his hand slips between your thighs, pressing his thumb to your clit to rub gentle circles and sending a surge of pleasure through your body from the sensation.
“Better?” He asks, breathless, pressing his damp forehead to yours and closing his eyes as you do the same, getting lost in the way he feels inside of you, and him getting lost in how incredible you feel wrapped around him.
You moan a simple yes in between curses under your breath and whimpering his name over and over. He pumps into you harder, losing control of the situation from the pleasure building up, rubbing his thumb around your sensitive nub even faster to bring you as close to bliss as him. Your legs begin to shake, causing you to reach for his shoulders for support to keep your balance, all the while rolling your hips toward him while trying to match his motions.
“I love you,” he groans the three little words, mouth inches from yours, close enough to feel his breath on your skin with his hips still moving in time with yours. “God, baby, you feel so good.” Just as you are about to reply, your jaw slacks and the pleasure consumes you, with the waves of warmth and electricity surging through your body, causing your legs to twitch and you to clench your walls around him.
Your nails dig into his skin. You press yourself tight to his body. You call out for him all before you go  slack and you tiredly push his hand away from being overwhelmed. Watching you come undone around him is just enough to cause him to reach his own satisfaction, holding your body close while still thrusting into you, holding his breath, and tilting his head back in pure, exhilarating bliss until the moment overwhelms him.
“Damn…” he exhales, finally pulling out of you to leave you empty, shaking, and still holding onto him. The water has grown cold beating against your skin, making you shiver against his chest before he gets the hint to turn the faucet to the left, shutting the shower off. “You okay, baby?”
He looks at you, making sure you don’t slip against the slick tiles thanks to your trembling legs, but you nod your head with a sleepy grin. If a rough week wasn’t enough to tire you out, he surely is.
“I’m great,” you coo, wrapping your arms around him to pull his damp lips to yours, giving him a soft kiss of gratitude.
When he pulls away, he is all smiles, happy he could help you relax. “Perfect.”
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