#with a special guest appearance because I couldn't resist

[killedpink]

한 지성 | a special appearance.

🎧 masterlist !?

📷 synopsis: your very much pined over friend and coworker, jisung, discovers your cam show. luckily for you, all he wants in the world is to be featured on your show as your first guest.

📖 word count: 6.3K

📂 contains: camming reader, unprotected sex, filmmaking, coworker setting, friends to lovers, afab reader, mutual pining, i mention jisung's eyes a lot here let's not acknowledge it please, slight fingering, oral sex, deepthroating, hair pulling, dirty talk, marking, thigh riding, cum consumption, creampie

when you started your camming business, you didn't expect it to grow in popularity. the website you used just barely scratched top three biggest sites each year, but somehow you still raked in millions of views across your platform. the pay wasn't too bad, either — it was enough to cover the expenses of living and then some, which is especially good once you take into account that camming is only a side hustle. you'd get on once a week at best, keep your identity private and in exchange be generously tipped. not a bad set-up, right?

until one day where your coworker (the only one in your workplace who you think about in detail during your sessions) grows awkward around you, which is even more heartbreaking considering you have good chemistry together. so, you approach him when you finally catch him alone when you're both doing overtime, and you politely demand answers out of his round, plump pink lips. jisung flushed ten different shades of red before his features settle into an anxiousness. "i found your cam show." his voice is quiet, his brown eyes avoid eye contact, his lips uttered the words quickly and with much restraint in his throat. your own brain had stopped working, a million questions in your head and yet you couldn't make sense of one, and instead of asking him a simple, "what?" you were too stunned to properly engage.

jisung cleared his throat, looking up at you with those big, brown, tragically round eyes of his, "i watched your show." his voice was much clearer, still low in sound and barely resisting the urge to mutter it as if it were a curse. although being undeniably embarrassed, you weren't ashamed nor upset with him. "so.. do you not wanna hang out with me anymore?" you felt your voice falter, catching on your emotions.

"what? no! no, not at all!" jisung all but exploded, eyes widening and enunciating every syllable, "i'm sorry, i really am. i just felt a bit awkward because you didn't know and i didn't even realise it was you until it ended — i only figured out it was you from your voice — i swear i am not a creep."

to lighten the mood, you lean into his bubble and mutter into his ear, "how was i?" and the proximity allows you to hear how his breath hitches and how the apples of his cheeks redden as he chuckles.

the both of you finish work and clock out together, and you cant help but notice how jisung hangs around his car, his eyes on you the entire time. "hey, listen, i could give you a ride home if you're up for it?" it's evident in his voice that he's not entirely ready for you to leave his company, and it's always a pleasure to spend time with him. when he starts driving to your residence it's like his brain is on autopilot: he doesn't ask for directions and he doesn't even ask you to clarify where he's going, despite only driving to your home a handful of times. he's attentive — you'll give him that. the palm of jisung's hand rests comfortably on your thigh, his warmth reaching your bare skin as your skirt rides up to make room for his hand, cupping the flesh of your thigh and affectionately squeezing it every so often, usually when you shifted in your seat to satiate the throbbing between your legs.

throughout the car ride, jisung makes little effort to engage in conversation with you. he barely looks at you, his gaze completely fixed onto the roads even when the car had stopped at a traffic light. it worries you — and you start to consider the possibility that he lied about being okay with your side business, or worse; he lied about your relationship still being the same, if there was any relationship left, that is. with a heavy heart and your mind screaming at you to not go through with your idea, you place the palm of your hand above his, completely enveloping his warmth. he's soft, his skin a tanned bronze and easy to caress: and you almost fall into that trap.

"you can tell me, if it's weird for you." you didn't want to hear how little jisung thought of you, but deep down, you knew he had the right to stay away from you if he felt that was best. you just hoped he didn't feel that way.

the first sign you get from him is a sigh, light and airy and the bridging the space between the both of you to his thoughts. "i know we're just coworkers, but, i really like you." jisung cleared his throat, your gaze catching his brown eyes for a moment. but, in that brief period of time, his dark, sharp, soft eyes — paradoxical, yes, — enchant you and whisper every nothing directly into your aching heart.

"and, if you're up for it, i wanted to.." he paused, trying to choose the right words as he drummed his fingers on the wheel, "to.. try it?" he looked at you for validation. "try what?" you turned to the side to watch him properly. as the car started moving again, it took jisung longer to find the words in his throat. "to be on your show."

you knew he pulled onto your driveway, you knew the comforts of your home were waiting for you, and you especially knew this was new territory that you weren't at all sure of how to navigate. regardless, you knew the thrumming in your chest was your heart beginning to flutter and you begin to grow addicted to the way jisung looks at you — it all ends in his eyes. life, death, rebirth, it's all the same to you when those round, furiously tormenting brown eyes stare at you as if you hung the stars from your mouth and let them slip from your tongue like honey. he's pure and he's rare and you fear you could shatter him with this dormant side of your life. but how enthralling that would be? to discover each other and touch him where your hands could never reach?

your fingers weave their way between jisung's, "okay. if you want to, i do, too." his eyebrows rise up in surprise and his pink lips part slightly. "i didn't expect you to answer so soon," you didn't expect to have an answer for him so soon, yet you found the words brimming the inside of your lips just as easily as you could think them.

you shrugged, "do you know when you'd want to..?" you trailed off, assuming jisung could fill in the blank, while he leaned closer to you and unbuckled your seatbelt, his hand deserting your thigh to unbuckle it and the other holding onto the buckle to avoid it colliding with you. from this position, you're taller than jisung, his head bowed down slightly, still momentarily focused on the seatbelt, and when he looks up at you, his lashes thick and his eyes round. the mesmerising, tragic witchery of his dark, onyx-like eyes haunt you so perfectly that you're unable to look away, hypnotised by the dusk night gleaming in his soft, doe eyes.

"how about now?" he murmured, and you're taken aback by his sudden forwardness. "now?" you echo, his dark hair following his head as he nods. "what's stopping us? what better time than now?" you hear the edge of desperation in his voice; he wants you as bad as you crave him, you're sure of it. his voice is low and rasp and slightly breathy, his words setting something ablaze deep within you and his smoky voice does little to quell the ashes igniting in the cage of your hips, and suddenly, all you can feel is that heat searing into your gut until it aches. your eyes flutter closed and you lean into jisung, his soft lips kissing your jaw; starting out timidly, but each press into your skin leaves him hungrier to taste you. his plump lips kiss your neck and he kisses the gasps that both start and end in your throat; he kisses them through your skin and you're sure he can feel when you swallow nervously.

your hands creep up into his hair before you can stop yourself, and like desperate, exploding stars, your eyes are immediately focused onto his, losing yourself into them as if you see something cosmically different each time. "you want to come inside, or stay in your car the whole time?" you tease, your lips curling into a pleased smile once you see jisung grin, his smile heart shaped and like every other part of him: hypnotic. "you know how to keep someone's attention," he muses, unbuckling his own seatbelt and turning away from you.

after a bit of ground-laying, and a short rehearsal which didn't even go all the way (which jisung insisted be done even more than you), the livestream is finally started.

people swarm into the show almost immediately, the comments moving so fast you can barely make out any coherent words behind your sex-blurred eyes. the tips are insanely generous — and you hadn't even gotten to any action yet. your audience hadn't seen you with a guest before, and despite you teasing it, you had never really intended to ask someone to join you.

all they get of you on their screen is your semi-naked body, your face obscured. jisung sits behind you on the bed, your back pressed firmly to his chest, in his lap. his hands slowly caress your sides, and your body is warmer than usual when he slips his hands into your inner thighs. the camera captures his soft fingers slipping into your underwear in high definition, the screen projecting a brightness your sensual lighting fails to — illuminating the way your knees want to connect like magnets as jisung's breath fans across the mouth-shaped circles of saliva on your neck.

you're pretty sure your soul levitates out of your body when he hums in your ear, his pink lips pressing kisses into your neck that you didn't realise you had been craving — and jisung scratched that itch just right. it was hypnotic and torturous at the same time. your hand fumbled for his, your fingernails digging into his tanned skin to anchor yourself before you reach delirium. and while jisung's index and middle finger circle your swelling clit under the fabric of your underwear, you realise with little to no effort that he touches you in a way you've never felt before. it leaves you carnally sinking into his swoon-worthy, tan build, the same way flesh knits together over a fatal wound.

he is your religion, and this feeling only intensifies as your back arches and your head lolls onto his shoulder the same way the brick of a cathedral is laid in an arch of brick. the most your frenzied audience gets of this is your chest trembling for breath and your hips rising and falling as jisung pulls his fingers away from your sex, glistening with his efforts and roping together in sticky strings.

you pull yourself off of his lap with shaking, trembling legs, and you stumble out of your panties as if you were drunk. maybe you were. you make eye contact with jisung, his brown eyes wide and lovely and deep inside of them you find the lover has replaced the coworker. his cheeks are beginning to flush and his lips start to swell, and he gives you a furiously charming smile that doubles as a smirk when you squint. the audience picks up on this chemistry, despite a large portion of it not being captured on camera.

crawling back onto the soft surface of the bed, you kiss and nip at jisung's neck, dragging your warm tongue over his collarbone. "take these off, ji," you whisper into his ear, careful to not let your viewers hear his name, your teeth grazing the shell of his ear as your hand groped the growing erection under his jeans. with the proximity, you heard the whimper jisung tried to swallow, his pinkish lips parted and his adam's apple bobbing.

you get comfortable in between jisung's bare legs, your hands resting atop his thighs, your nails grazing the exposed skin absentmindedly. the feeling of it melts the iron ball of anxiety in his gut, leaving only the torturous, blazing fire resting in his abdomen. jisung watched you with wide, long-lashed eyes, curiosity and that intoxicating lust-filled look shone down on you like a blessing. claim me, his eyes said, while the peverted grin on his face said temptress.

excitement burned between your legs, chaining you and influencing you. all your reserve was shredding away, your mind foggy and your body yearning, and weeping. you sank into his lap like a priest at a sermon, all devotion and no defiance. carefully, you introduced his cock to the velvety heat of your mouth, your hands guiding the weight of his cock to sit above your wet tongue. slow and experimentally, you sucked and licked his leaking head, just enough to get a taste of his rich, salty precum. it was enough to wet his cock and you slipped more of him into your mouth, greedily chocking down each morsel of jisung's cock. jisung fought to strangle down a single, pornographic whining mewl that sounded so unbelievably filthy that you couldn't help but smile onto his length. it must have looked obscene, or animalistic: your lips in a puffy wet ring around jisung's cock, your half-lidded gaze and your hands sprawled out onto the inside of his thighs and grabbing pathetically at the base of his cock.

all of your fantasies are given to your audience for just a moment. you hollowed out your cheeks and nuzzled his cock further into your warm mouth until his hard, velvety head prodded at your throat and just barely obscured your breath. jisung's sob died with his own breath, his hips rolling into your mouth and his cock twitching. your legs twisted like a sunflower facing the sun in an attempt to stimulate your own sex.

cautiously, you try a few slow bobs on his tastefully sweet length, his precum mixed with your drool coated his entire cock, and clung to your lips like webs. it was sticky and warm and it got between your hands and his base. you found a slow rhythm, tracing the veins on the underside of jisung's cock with your tongue, despite wanting so desperately to feel them somewhere else. you're almost certain that the microphone can pick up the filthy sounds of liquid sloshing around in your mouth and throat. you can hear it echo in your own head as your tongue traces his tip in circular motions. jisung's eyes squeeze shut, and his hands creep into your hair and appreciatively stroke your hair.

the pop of your mouth slipping off of jisung's aching cock almost bounced off of the walls. "i love doing this for you." your voice was low, not daring to let it venture past the bubble you and jisung have created around you. the image of him above you, his doe-eyed look spoke to you as if you were both lips to lips. his heart shaped lips were parted, half from mind-numbing pleasure, and the other from the soul soothing feeling of emotional intimacy. softly, your lips pucker and gently kiss jisung's swollen tip, softly insisting it be drenched in your love.

like the calm waves of the september sea, your hand falls into a pleasing rhythm which strokes jisung's cock so attentively that he revels in it, and in his mind he's sure he's going to re-watch this video over and over, until the entire feat is committed to memory. you rise and let jisung bring you into a kiss; your swollen lips glide over each other smoothly, pressing together with bruising mouths and bitten hearts, yearning for the other. jisung slides and scrapes his palms up your back as you kiss, soaking up every inch of your vulnerable, naked skin that he's allowed. you feel the smirk jisung makes through the kiss, and you realise he's taunting your viewers. he's telling them — daring them to touch you the way he can.

jisung kissed you so intensely that you can't even remember when he unclasped your bra, opening you up fully and laying you out like a delicacy made to be ravaged and worshipped all at the same time. when your clothes are nothing but a memory, jisung uses his teeth to appreciatively roll your top lip that was caught between both of his lips before pulling you off of his mouth.

you're grateful for this; you couldn't muster the inner strength to part from him yourself, but yet you couldn't even stomach being away from his cock for so long. you dipped back down eagerly to whirl your warm tongue around his heavy, leaking head. the corruption, the depravity for jisung always starts with the mouth, the tongue — the sheer, unfiltered wanting that leaves you so desperate that nothing else but him could even begin to be satisfactory.

he sunk down into you, swaying into your warmth and your efficiency. jisung worked his nimble fingers into your mussed hair, groping handfuls and tugging at the crown of your head. he pulled so tautly that it made your head burn, and burn it did; as well as ache. but it and everything else went unnoticed when compared to jisung's mouth watering cock rolling and gliding into your wet mouth. "y'look so pretty, angel, so pretty like this, fuck..."

dear god that's good. that's perfect, you realise. your free hand finds his in a daze, and yours clings onto jisung's so tightly that you feel his hard, unmoving knuckles press firmly into the soft, wavering pads of your fingers. you choke down the rest of jisung's cock in appreciation, your sex slicked lips slotted perfectly against his hilt, sealing and suckling him so that he was even closer to becoming undone by your mouth that evidently wanted nothing more than to be full with his rich, intoxicating taste. you traced the seam of his head, the natural crease in his velvet smooth tip where his body rewarded your efforts, sucking and savouring the taste of him.

jisung had already given himself up to the pleasure — he had already surrendered himself to you. his pelvis seared into your mouth, and jisung cried, a smooth and guttural noise that left goosebumps on your skin and your cunt aching. jisung rocked into you desperately, chasing the unfathomable pleasure you threw yourself into making for him. the sheer neediness of the act set another wave of lust and heat and dazed love to run its course through your naked body, still snug between jisung's legs.

the pull to jisung was buried deep within your skin which seared at his sounds, the heavy gravity of his soul called to you so intensely that you have no choice but to believe there is no heaven waiting in the clouds; there is no paradiso that dante could ever write that could ever make you a worshipper of his work – for your paradiso, your paradise is here: tucked deep away from the world and instead melted and nursed by jisung. you had no choice but to let his praise fall to your ears and his hands grasp at every inch of you he can find with his doe eyes squeezed shut so tightly that it's almost as if he manages to caress your skin in the dark.

you knew jisung was close. you could see it on his face. the way his brows furrowed and his slightly curved nose scrunched up with his boyish smile, all pink and heart shaped. with determination, you relaxed your achingly sore jaw and pushed forward; you fully leaned into jisung’s lap, your nose dug bluntly into the tan skin atop his abs. you were met with two things: the burning intensity of chocking on a mouth-watering cock, and the soundless cry that sprang out from jisung as if he were a stray coil. somehow, his cries and groans and praises were harmonious, unlike his hands. one scrambled to grip your hair even tighter; as if his fingers would never untangle and he accepted his fate, his digits pushing and pulling your head as if you’d miraculously fuse together. while the hand that you held onto clung to you so tightly you could almost feel the pressure of the bones in your hand being pressed taut to themselves. all jisung could comprehend was the hot, impossibly soft, smooth pulse of your throat — it completely surrounded his sensitive, spent cock, swollen and leaking and twitching as it untangled itself and gave its all to you.

every inch of jisung’s pretty, swollen cock stuffed your throat so intensely it left you utterly crazed. you were half sure, that from the sheer stretch your body had to do to accommodate him, that the shape of his cock would be carved into your throat; you could feel every inch, vein and splutter of cum pulse and fade into your throat so deliciously that you’re unsure who is enjoying this more: you or jisung.

you were lost in the rich, salty taste of him. you were swallowed whole by the scent of his sweat mixing with his cologne — cedar wood, and cinnamon, and rosemary, and a note of sweetness perfectly crafted to leave you lost and shivering from the mere suggestion of his presence. but by far, the most rewarding part of devoting the best part of half an hour to sucking jisung off was most definitely his mouth. in true jisung han fashion, he was loud and didn’t know how – or when – to shut up. he purred and whined and gasped, filthily and innocently at the same time — he was a walking paradox. you felt the vibration of his voice through touching him. his eyes, solid and teary, looked at you, cock still stuffed in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and red and your lips in a puffed ring around his base, drool and cum spilling out from the corners of your mouth, and he looked at you with no emotion short of lovesick.

his taste conquered you, and yet something in you wanted more. you couldn't rest. you were so mindless — jisung sung your praises so tirelessly that it left you star-struck, a devoted believer of whatever profound subtleties hid between his pink, pillowy lips. amongst the general mind-whiting pleasure and delectable sounds that seemed to blur your surroundings, your chat was overflowing with comments. you're not sure that the donations in the corner have ever ceased coming.

it was with great difficulty, that you were able to pull yourself off of jisung's spent cock. your surroundings slipped back into place as you did so, your mind untangling itself and your lungs burning with every short, desperate breath you took.

long, thick ropes of jisung’s cum and your drool clung to your mouth, stretching thinner as the distance from his throbbing cock and your sore mouth grew. crudely, it snapped and fell between you, smearing and leaving a semi-opaque memento on jisung’s tasteful length.

you hadn’t planned to go all the way with him. for your first session with a guest, all the way felt like too much. but your chat and the tips begged for it — you had never seen such large numbers on a live video of yours before. you wouldn’t object to fully fucking jisung, either. he was enigmatic in his movements, melodic in his noises and dutiful in the way he touched you. the entirety of the night you spent with him so far was very much like a religious experience: clouds parting, sun shining and angels singing.

you settled on his thigh, both of your legs straddling one of his and unsubtly grinding your bare, aching slit up the length of his muscular, well-carved thigh. jisung’s tanned hands wrapped around your waist, pinky fingers following the swells of your hips, and giving you that much needed stability to fall onto a rhythmic pace that only made you more obsessive over fully fucking jisung on camera. because even if you never get to do this again, you’re sure you would be able to feel the same way he makes you feel by watching the video again. you’re sure jisung’s touch would haunt you in ways no-one could ever fathom, or dream about. because if it feels that good kissing him until your head grows fuzzy, and if it feels that good sucking him off until your lungs burn, it must look even better — and you cannot imagine how it would look if jisung pinned your wrists and fucked you so terribly deep into your mattress that it felt as if he were using his hips to carve you into the bedding.

you wanted to immortalise this exchange. because dear god you might never have this opportunity again.

you kiss — and truly kiss. lips part and teeth clash, scalding tongue meets scalding tongue. your mouths trace each other’s and you feel as if you have become one elaborate person. jisung touches you exactly where you need to be touched without even thinking it, and you moan when he does. it’s both remarkably intimate and terrifying. remarkable, because no-one has ever came close to making you feel this way; terribly because you’re certain no-one can ever make you feel like this again.

your body yearns for him in unfathomable ways, terribly and deeply. you notice that jisung has a way — a talent, even, of simultaneously melting and setting ablaze every part of you. it is maddening and addictive at the same time. jisung put your roaming, explorative hands atop his shoulders, letting you anchor yourself onto him. your fingernails dug into his shoulder blades; your hands wanted to claw themselves into the muscle of jisung's tanned, broad shoulders. you wanted to pry him open and read all his secrets.

you feel jisung's wet cock press against the outside of your thigh, tender and persistent. your sex aches with the weight of an unshed orgasm — all consuming and begging to be released. your body leans into jisung's, your mouth finding the shell of his red flushed ear, your eyes catching on the way he grinned sinfully and leaned his body closer to yours. your teeth graze jisung's skin, your wet tongue prods his jawline, and your mouth scatters all over his neck, leaving no inch of his skin un-worshiped.

his lap is slick with your arousal, your hips rocking yourself onto the hard muscle of his thigh until the movement becomes automatic. your eyes gloss over you and jisung on the camera; his hands are mean in the way that they hold you. it's mean and possessive and his fingers are sure to leave bruises on your dirtily loved skin as he presses you into him as if he wants you to break.

from the proximity, you hear jisung's voice catch on a moan each time your hip bumps his swollen cock, his tip flushed a painful looking hue of pink and his length twitching and thrusting desperately just in case he manages to slide his cock over your sticky skin again. your forehead rests on his wide, steady shoulders and your fingers bury themselves into the curve of his bicep. your lips part to make way for your teeth, which dig into his soft, tan skin. your voice sinks into his body and your fervent mouth finds its home marking jisung's skin with your vicious, possessive love. your face is buried into the warm curve of jisung's neck and you hear how his husky sighs die in his thick throat, his heart shaped adam's apple betraying his otherwise impressive efforts of keeping his cool.

you're almost shocked at jisung. he walks around with an angelic presence, his innocent doe eyes and soft, cherub face is the picture of perfection. he's all softness, curves and sweet smiles. who knew he had a deep, piercing craving to be loved viciously and unforgettably?

your mouth releases jisung's sweat prickled skin with a pop, "no more," you gasp, the cage of your hips burning with filth and obscenity, your cunt still unclaimed by him and sobbing at that fact. "need you so fucking bad.." you let your teeth affectionately nip at his bruising skin. you let your voice fall quieter, "ji.. c'mon." you urge him, your hand falling to his cock and you push your palm against the underside of his sensitive cock, barely rubbing and yet applying so much pressure against his sweet spot that you feel his cock twitch as his hips thrust into your hand to chase your touch, infecting him with your pining for him.

before he gets the chance to flood your hand with his cum, you jerk your hand away and finally let the pads of your fingers sink into the slick, puffiness that is your neglected sex, your touch immediately onto your swollen clit. this time, jisung doesn't try hiding his sounds.

"fuck!" he draws out, almost growling in frustration, his eyes glaring at you. half-lidded and lust blown, brows furrowed and an unbelieving smirk all matched together on his face. all of it made you swoon. you are wicked, his poetically brown eyes say. jisung's groan replays itself in your mind, echoing and fuelling the desperate need for an orgasm in your body further.

jisung's hand finds a firm, cruel grip on your hip. they dig past the flesh and sit adjacent to your hipbone, guiding you off of his thigh while his other hand readies his cock, his hand wrapped around his base as he saws his searing head up and down your slick, ignored sex; it yanked a whine out of your throat when it caught on your puffed, tender clit.

jisung truly makes you suffer at his pretty hands. he lets you claw at his toned, muscular back — and he lets you sob and writhe in his lap, eager to sit on his cockmeat.

you needed his brutish grip on you to leave a bruise; you needed his touch to linger on your skin and you needed him to haunt you, in body and soul. you let his grip shape you into what he needs and you pray he can feel the agonising lust that gnaws through your skin, too.

the sight of his mean, thick cock torturing your raw sex looks better from above. you pity your audience: for all they see is a fixed angle. no video could ever do the feeling of han jisung's leaking cock deciding its invasion of your dripping, lustrously burning sex justice.

the room spins as you realise your positions have changed. your cheek is planted on the bed, head turned to the side to spot where jisung is via the camera. he looms over you, and it sends a genuine shiver down your spine. the most you can see of him; and by proxy, your audience, is a hard-edged jawline and scalding muscle that makes him look legendary. you're sure some wayward poet has written about him. jisung mirrors everything they stand for: strength, mystery and hypnotically good looks.

one of his hands wraps around your ankle, folding your leg in on itself, while the other prods at your wet, warm cunt. your head is dizzy as your sex flutters around his gentle touch — the pads of his fingers collect the slick pooling at your entrance and smear your slit, dragging it down until his fingers brush against your clit. you jerk at the sensation, cooling air on your searingly warm, throbbing cunt. jisung's middle finger finally, finally aides some relief to the white hot pain of neglect that burrows deep within your gut. experimentally, he lets his finger sink deeper into your sex until you feel the knuckles of his index and ring fingers prod at both sides of your cunt.

you struggle to catch your breath as you grow accustomed to the ascending feeling of having some part of jisung as close as you crave it. you tremble and sob into the mattress when he slips his finger out of you and into his mouth, it's audibly vulgar and he's audibly enjoying it. your fingers curl into the sheets and you let out a needy, impatient whine to urge him to touch you once more.

it's surprising when you feel jisung cup the curve of your ass and the swell of your hip in one greedy handful, and slides you onto his hard, delicious cock that soaks up every feeling of loneliness and neglect that was once nestled deep within your sex. the moan that spills out of you pours into the air, your lungs already taking a breathless gulp of air as you cry and wriggle under jisung's grip, your back arching in a desperate attempt to meet his cruelly slow pace. his touch burns into your skin that it's almost archaic. it sends you into a furore of passion, and even sex-mad you think jisung to be lovely. even as he beds you, and rolls his hips deliciously into the globe of your ass and brushes his cock head against your silky warm sex, you still swoon over the way he coos praise at you and lets breathless sighs flutter out from his heart shaped, pink lips.

slowly but surely, like a newborn calf gaining its balance, jisung sheds his coyness. he fucks you, truly fucks you, your arms pinned by him and therefore unable to escape him, and the force of his thrusts scratches that itch inside of you just right. the camera captures your body following the momentum of his thrusts and the way jisung's head tilts back, his throat exposed and his cock quickly gaining both speed and force to bully itself inside of your cunt, sculpting his hips against your skin. you want him to touch you until his palms burn, you want to be tangled and pressed against him so tightly that you cannot remember the feeling of want.

the rippling squeeze of you around him is too good to be real, jisung decides. he's sure he has made you up in a dream. his hand dips under your shoulders to hoist you up, your back arched and your head, like his, tilted back. "y'fuck me so well," you mutter out, your voice raspy from the never-ending onslaught of whimpers and moans and cries. "gonna come, ji." you grin, eyes fluttering closed and lips parting, brows furrowing as you lose yourself in the heavenly sensations jisung generously bestows upon you.

jisung, so mesmerised by the show you've put on for him, cups the dip of your back, nestles his face in the side of your neck and just loses it. his cock is so deep inside of your cunt that you're sure you can never be un-loved by him. the donations and comments flood in, making the need, the chase: the rush to finish come faster and faster. knowing thousands of people were mesmerised by you and jisung that it made his ego swell — and his thrusts adapt to an even more frenzied, brutal pace. you're unsure how you're able to keep up with his energy. jisung's libido is truly all consuming; he had your breasts bouncing and your moans stuttering with each dig of his swollen tip into your hot, drooling cunt.

your sweat tacked skin sticks to jisung: even your bodies were in agreement when your minds thought you wanted to fade into each other. and yet, you were each other's to tame. no part of you was free from jisung. he had claimed every inch of you, body and soul, you were bewitched by him.

you crumble onto him, your vision so blurred you can barely make out the fuzzy sight of the camera repeating the view of jisung fucking you. regardless, it shakes and trembles from the force used by jisung to fuck himself into your sex. the hot, wet silk of your cunt clamps around jisung in quick, frantic bursts of energy, and you sob through your entire orgasm. jisung kisses the edge of your jaw and strokes your side, all the while maintaining his brutally needy pace that made a mess of the both of you, your cum oozing out of him in episodes, and settling in a ring around the base of jisung's cock.

neither of you are sure this feeling can be achieved on earth, and as jisung's thighs finally tense and his hips stutter and a searing heat spreads throughout his body, you're sure you hear his body weep i love you, i love you, i love you, over and over until jisung's chest heaves with breath and your ears stop ringing.

as the both of you regain yourselves in waves, you realise the camera is still recording. you dutifully thank everyone for the tips, comments and for tuning in, and quickly end the session without a second thought.

jisung's eyes search yours for confirmation, and when you nod, his lips morph into a shy grin, his cheeks rosy and his skin shiny from his efforts. both of his hands cup your cheeks, his warmth seeps into your hazy, obsessive mind through the palms of his hands, and with as much tenderness one would summon to cradle a tiny, flushed baby, jisung presses his soft, soft lips onto yours.

with a hum of approval, he parts, and you're once more face to face with his big, round brown eyes, that holds everything your soul yearns for. "i have a free day next thursday. part two? we could spend the whole day planning..."

[actuallymoon]

Ficlet: Strawberry Costume 🍓

Narcissa Malfoy had always believed her son was destined for greatness. Not just because he was a Malfoy, but because he was, undeniably, the most beautiful baby she had ever seen. From the moment Draco was born, with his silvery-blonde hair and piercing grey eyes, she knew he was special. So, it wasn't long before she decided to share his beauty with the world, signing him up to be a baby model.

Draco's early career was illustrious; his chubby cheeks graced the covers of baby food jars, and his tiny feet were the star of toddler shoe advertisements. As he grew older, he transitioned seamlessly into a child model, showcasing everything from high-end toddler clothing to magical toys. Narcissa, proud of her son’s accomplishments, kept every photograph, every advertisement, in a pristine, leather-bound album.

Years later, when Draco and Harry found themselves in love and dreaming of starting a family, Narcissa couldn't help but drop a subtle hint over tea. "Draco was such a beautiful baby," she mused. "He even modeled. I do hope your child inherits Draco’s looks rather than yours."

The underlying jab at Harry’s ‘inferior, half-breed appearance’ went unnoticed, as Harry’s ears perked up at the word “modeled.” His curiosity was sparked, to say the least. "Modeled? You mean like… professionally?"

Narcissa’s lips curled into a smile as she reminisced nostalgically. "Indeed. I have an album, if you’re interested."

Harry was beyond intrigued. When Narcissa handed him the album, he couldn’t help but gasp. Draco, as a baby, was even more adorable than he could have imagined. Page after page revealed little Draco in various poses—tiny wizard robes, enchanted toys, and the cutest baby outfits one could find in the magical world.

But it was the photo of Draco dressed in a strawberry costume that truly stole Harry’s heart. The way the baby Draco pouted at the camera, his tiny hands clutching at the plush strawberry suit, was too much. Harry’s eyes sparkled with delight as he turned to Narcissa, practically begging, "Can I keep this one? Please?"

Narcissa, who could easily say no to anyone else, found herself unable to resist the hopeful, puppy-like expression on Harry’s face. “I suppose,” she relented, though she secretly relished how even the Boy-Who-Lived was smitten with her son’s baby pictures.

Harry kept the picture a secret from Draco, a mischievous plan forming in his mind. Months later, when their son James was born, Harry finally unveiled his plan. With a grin, he presented Draco with a tiny strawberry costume—identical to the one in the picture—and two adult-sized ones as well.

“We’re going to recreate that photo,” Harry announced, holding up the old picture of baby Draco.

Draco couldn’t help but laugh, rolling his eyes at Harry’s suggestion and refused. Harry, of course, didn’t give up and begged him to reconsider. When he saw how excited Harry was, Draco reluctantly relented. Soon enough, the three of them—James, Draco, and Harry—stood together in their strawberry costumes for their new family photo.

The picture found its place on the mantel, right next to the original photo of baby Draco. Every time guests came over, they would pause, bewildered at the sight of the three matching strawberries, before bursting into laughter.

And Draco, though he would never admit it aloud, found himself rather fond of the ridiculousness. After all, only Harry could turn a forgotten moment from his childhood into something so wonderfully, absurdly memorable.

Story inspired by a tiktok I saw of a child wearing something like this picture

[maxiwaxipads]

i wrote how everyone in noir bouquet would fight a while back so here you go !!!

Badobarm

Frontliner and tank, he's capable of taking incoming damage for teammates and taunts to distract! Able to give defensive buffs, and cover for allies if they require healing or need to prepare upcoming attacks. Capable of commanding teammates efficiently, he's the party member who keeps everyone's morale up! If Badobarm is there, it will be swift and victorious!

Badobarm naturally charms his opponents with good workplace practices and being a good boss.

Badobarm (Shoujo filter*) - " Work with me where you can even survive on minimum wage and budget efficiently ~ ♡ " (the enemy, who is suddenly under a charm status effect!)

Chaco

A mid-range support character who can bolster the speed and attack of allies! Chaco can debuff the defensiveness of SEEDs, but it isn't too significant of a debuff. Out of all Noir Bouquet, he's the most nimble and able to move freely through a battlefield.

His skateboard was once ordinary until Pochacco blessed the skateboard with his magic! It can easily move through difficult terrain and is even more sturdier than it was before. (<- Maybe climb walls, but I'll consider it) Chaco can also ram his enemies with his skateboard!

If there had to be a character with stealth capabilities, it would be Chaco who can silence his breathing and footsteps. Under a situation where a retreat is necessary, Chaco would be the quickest to flee with or without his trusted skateboard!

Arupek

"A close-ranged attacker at trying his best!" But in all seriousness, Arupek is a long-ranged attacker whose water gun is tampered with different nodes able to perform supportive (healing) and offensive abilities.

His gun is a special item able to convert water into a specialized magic of its own. Once water is inserted, it is unable to be deposited. After some time, the specialized water reverts back to its original state and loses its magical properties.

As long as Arupek carries water around, he's able to reuse the water gun for a long time! He makes sure to label the water he carries as "drinkable" or "ammo."

Arupek is capable of using dark-type pokemon attacks!

(So I had the idea that being contracted with a lord gives you special abilities, and Arupek inherited a venomous bite from Pekkle) (Doesn't easily share his food with others in fear of them being affected with venom) (When he's around Badobarm, Arupek makes sure to finish his food quirk even if he dislikes it or it isn't to his preferences)

Arupek, who sees Badobarm scooping the rice from his plate into one place--intending to eat it...!?

Arupek - "Oh--WAIT! WAIT! DON'T EAT IT!" "I'll finish it. I swear! You're a good man, Badobarm! I don't want you to die!" Badobarm - "...Be my guest?"

Badobarm, who thinks highly of Arupek because he can finish his food!

Tuxam

A magic DPS, but I couldn't decide between mid-ranged or long-ranged, but he seems mid-ranged to me? Has a more practical understanding of magic and can use it for mundane tasks. Resistant to cold statuses and weather!

When it comes to magic, I think Tuxam is the strongest or on par with Pikero? Slightly (physically) stronger than the average person, but when pitted against other knights, Tuxam doesn't appear that strong. I imagine this also applies to things like his stamina and how quick he can be.

Tuxam is a character who is motivated by helping others, even if it is a strict standard. May take incoming damage for allies even if it harms him. (<- Something that he's definitely scolded for(?))

Hangyon

A close-range or mid-range attack, Hangyon is both a DPS and a terrible support character! He's a wildcard able to quickly adapt to his situations, and able to use anything within his hands as a stratagem.

I imagine Hangyon is a high-damage DPS to the detriment of his allies. Someone capable of breaking the 4th wall, and whether Hangyon knows he's a character is left vague.

Hangyon who breaks the 4th wall to ask the audience what's the best move in this situation.

Hangyon - "Ehe~ ♡ I can't hear you anyway! I'll just attack them silly."

But I like the idea that his awareness is kept intentionally vague.

Pikero, who I wrote as an offsite strategist considers Hangyon as a bomb or considers him too unpredictable to follow orders. I imagine Badobarm can sway Hangyon to take battles more seriously(?)

Hangyon who can debuff both his allies and his enemies. (And maybe even buff(?))

Pikero

A strategist who prefers staying far away from the battle! In return, he observes the situation from afar from an objective angle and determines the best actions for a plausible win.

Compared to other knights, Pikero can use magic from long distances but requires the help of "drones" to carry the magic and cast it. Because he casts his magic from a long distance, it may take a while for it to cast and he would have to inform the rest of Noir Bouquet when making incoming attacks or casting supportive spells

Pikero is also capable of casting supportive magic, like healing or giving buffs. I imagine it is obvious to tell when Pikero can cast a spell, so an enemy would have to time their attacks to avoid drone strikes or prevent Noir Bouquet from receiving buffs! (Maybe a drone has a brief moment before casting the spell)

Mentioning the drones again, they're able to perform multiple tasks for Pikero and aren't solely for battle. When Pikero casts magic through the drones, they have to carry it all the way there and it requires multiple to transport and cast.

(To visualize, imagine a vague trail of drones going back and forth similar to a cable line to deliver the magic) (Pikero has separate drones tasked with observing and recording the battle from afar, and drones who act as the cable lines and cast the magic itself)

These drones can easily be destroyed, and a slight disruption can misdirect the spell itself. But once a drone is attacked, you would have to destroy the other drones before his information is quickly relayed to Pikero.

(Possibly can overheat(?)) (Maybe bad weather can affect the performance of the drones, I could see it(?)) (I feel like I powercrept Pikero...?) (May also take a while to set up, especially in long-distance places from Keroppi Kingdom) (Maybe they also take a while to assemble(?))

(Even without the cable line drones, Pikero can still provide good insight by just observing the situation) (I imagine the drones Pikero uses for battle are all-purpose(?))

While Pikero will rarely appear in battle, I think he's faster than Chaco when there's a dire need to retreat.

I wrote to myself once, "I think everyone can agree Pikero is the weakest in Noir Bouquet." I wrote that twice. I still agree with me thrice. (lovingly)

Noir Bouquet's Physical Strength:

Pikero < Tuxam < Arupek < Chaco < Badobarm < Hangyon

Noir Bouquet's Magical Strength:

Badobarm < Chaco < Hangyon < Arupek < Pikero < Tuxam

(Again, Pikero and Tuxam might be equal to each other(?))

Noir Bouquet's Physical Defense:

Pikero < Arupek < Tuxam < Hangyon < Chaco < Badobarm

Noir Bouquet's Magical Defense:

Pikero < Hangyon < Chaco < Arupek < Tuxam < Badobarm

NIGERUNDAYO!

Badobarm < Tuxam < Arupek < Hangyon < Chaco < Pikero

(Badobarm is intentionally slow to save time for everyone else and ensure everyone makes it out safely!)

edit: have you ever reread something you’ve written and realized I USED THE <> WRONGLY???? Sure, I haven’t actively used <> in years it terms of schoolwork, but LIKE???? you know the example that the alligator eats the thing that is smaller than the other? i thought about that… but maybe the alligator was eating the one with the most meat rather than the weakest prey… I have had a lot of grammar mistakes before but like????

[tigerlyla-of-metinna]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Hi Val!

Thanks for sending this to my inbox. Sorry for the late reply. Been busy these past weeks.

Anyways I dont have that many fics on A03. Two at present and ficlets on tumblr. So if anyone is interested, these are it!

My main fic (Emhyr x Sarah) (A Painting of You) This is the moodboard and fic link. It's a vanilla pairing and wholesome, with hardly any smut (Im not that good at creating tasteful smut yet but I'm working on it)

2. The sequel to A Painting of You: The Roles We Play. It is still ongoing. I do recommend reading the first fic because it will mention a lot of the previous events.

3. The ficlet posted in episode format. It's Empress Ciri and Emperor consort Morvran and its a hilarious series of unfortunate events. Lots of naked guest appearances parading around, thanks to a stipulation of the constant GWENT winner. Guess who these guys lost their clothes to:

The other two I'll probably reblog on Sunday. So if you've not seen these, please check them out. have a chuckle on the short story :)))

[quarterfromcanon]

Midnight, Fright and Candlelight

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 6 - Storm [1,426 words]

A rare spattering rain coated the opaque windows. The ongoing drought meant there were comparatively few drops crashing down from the clouds, but still the occasional slash of lightning - glaring white and lined in blue - cast the buildings below in stark silhouette before plunging their street back into darkness. Heather and Valencia were spending a quiet night at home, with Heather flipping through her latest copy of Glamour while Valencia got sucked into a Dateline mystery.

“V, are you really sure you wanna watch this while we’re in the middle of a storm?” Heather asked without looking up when the program cut to its first commercial break.

“It sets the mood.”

“And sets you on edge.”

“I’ll be fine. I know I have you here to protect me.” Valencia stretched her legs across the couch and tucked her feet behind Heather’s back.

“From the already jailed perpetrator of a decades-old crime,” Heather noted and turned the page.

“We don’t know that yet. Sometimes the person they arrested doesn’t seem like the one who did it.” Valencia grabbed the blanket behind Heather’s head. She spread the cover over both their laps.

“Fair point.” Heather stole a glance at Valencia during the next advertisement. Her body was coiled, tense, and her fingers were rubbing absentmindedly at a frayed string on the blanket. Heather reached out and stilled Valencia’s nervous fidgeting. She caressed Valencia’s palm with the backs of her fingers. “Just remember that this episode is set in Florida. In 1998.”

“Oh, it’s back on.” Valencia held Heather’s hand but was lost once more to the documentary.

“Yep, I’m gonna end up Big Spooning you with the lights on.”

“Shh... but, yes, probably.”

As the story unfolded, Heather felt Valencia’s toes wriggle against her spine in a kind of horizontal foot tap. She smiled but allowed Valencia’s television immersion to continue without further comment. 

The majority of the program passed uneventfully. Valencia voiced her opinions and predictions aloud every break. Heather either concurred or pointed out contradictory evidence.

“How are you catching all this and reading at the same time?”

Heather shrugged. “Music and sound cues usually give you a hint when the guy’s saying something important. I just pause where I’m at every time there’s a dramatic background noise.”

“Your mind fascinates me.”

“Right back at you, scaredy-cat.”

Valencia rolled her eyes but that didn’t stop her from scooting nearer as the show described more alarming details. The host teased a shocking third act reveal when they returned from the show’s sponsors.

Then the power went out.

Valencia yelped and accidentally kicked Heather’s back in her haste to sit upright. Heather winced but circled an arm around Valencia’s shoulders when she leaned in close.

“I can get some of your candles,” Heather suggested. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and turned on the flashlight.

“And leave me here on the couch by myself? I don’t think so. I’m coming with you.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured.” Heather gathered the discarded blanket in her arms and returned it to the back of the couch. She held out her hand and wove her fingers between Valencia’s with a reassuring squeeze.

“You were right; you seem totally fine.”

Valencia elbowed her but then hugged Heather’s entire arm to her chest. “Shut up.”

Heather grinned and pressed a kiss to Valencia’s hairline. She set off in the direction of their bedroom with Valencia in tow. The process of simply crossing that space was comically slow with Valencia startling at every noise and peering around for the source.

They heard a soft but heavy thump, followed by metallic jingling. Valencia’s scream was so sharp that Heather’s right eye closed in an involuntary wink.

“Babe, it’s just Shadow. You bought her that collar. She must’ve woken up from her nap behind the yoga basket.”

Valencia caught sight of a round and furry outline near their feet. She crouched and hefted their drowsy feline into her arms. “Oh, my sweet baby. Did you hear that Mamá was scared and come to save the day?” 

The attention earned her a purr, but the cat’s eyes were trained over her shoulder, locked on a distant corner. Her tail swished back and forth against Valencia’s side.

“Oh God, what is she looking at?” Valencia hefted their pet a little higher until they were face to face. “¿Ves algo, mi sombra pequeña? Move your tail once for yes and twice for no. ¿Es un fantasma? ¿Un asesino? ¿El fantasma de un asesino?” Her eyes widened. “Si es el fantasma de un asesino, tienes que decirme. I can’t believe Josh was right; cats are haunted.”

“When you’re done asking our tabby if she sees the ghost of a murderer, I’ve got the bag of candles,” Heather interrupted.

Valencia jumped. “I didn’t even notice that you walked away.”

“It’s okay. You were distracted by a possibly possessed toaster.” Heather flicked on the lighter from her nightstand and touched it to the wick of the first candle. “Plus I left the flashlight with you.”

She retrieved her phone from the middle of a shelf, shut off the app, and pocketed the cell. 

Valencia set Shadow back on the floor with an affectionate scratch between the ears. “Where should we set these up?”

“One in the bathroom, one in the kitchen, the four corners of the living room, and then one on the coffee table. We can wait until later for the bedroom.”

Valencia nodded, accepted the proffered first candle from Heather, and got to work. Soon the surrounding rooms were illuminated in flickering gold. A familiar, vaguely autumnal scent filled the air -- something akin to corncobs warmed over a bonfire. Heather returned to the couch and beckoned for Valencia to join her. They were afforded a moment of tranquility before thunder rumbled and made Valencia jolt in alarm.

Heather rested her cheek against the top of Valencia’s head. “Hey, do you wanna play one of those car games people used to like when we were kids?”

“Which one?”

“Going On A Picnic? You’ve gotta remember a lot. It could keep your mind off things.”

Valencia wrinkled her nose. “Picnics attract ants.”

Heather laughed. “Okay, fine. Going On A Trip?”

“All right,” Valencia consented with a shrug.

“Cool. Start us off.”

“We’re going on a trip, and we’re going to bring... your axe.”

Heather pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh my god, babe, it’s supposed to be like ‘apples’ or ‘apricots.’ We aren’t hiking with Jack Torrance.”

“What?” Valencia protested innocently. “You like taking me into the wild. Realistically, we’d need protection.”

Heather considered it for a minute. “Okay. I’ll give you that one. We’re going on a trip, and we’re going to bring my axe and a beach ball.”

“In the middle of the woods?”

“There’s a lake. I like the water. Just a heads-up: K is gonna be kayak.”

“Nice try. K is mine.”

Heather lifted her eyebrows. “You’ve got a plan for that one already?”

“You’ll have to keep playing to find out.”

They passed the rest of the hour brainstorming their fictitious vacation. Shortly after midnight, just as they chose something (or, rather, someone) for the letter R, the power finally returned. The sudden volume of the TV coming back to life made them both flinch. Valencia sprang to grab the remote control and turn it off again.

“I’ll blow out the candles,” Heather offered.

“Actually, do you mind if we leave them?”

“Sure.”

Valencia walked to the light switch and restored the pleasant ambience. She strode to the couch and snuggled under Heather’s outstretched arm. “We have a game to finish.”

Heather nodded. She refrained from any knowing remarks while Valencia looped an arm around her middle, tucking a hand into Heather’s back pocket. Valencia’s head rested comfortably on Heather’s chest. Heather closed her eyes as Valencia began rattling off all their imaginary items and invitees thus far. The vibration from Valencia’s voice hummed against her skin.

“... olives, Paula, quesadillas, Rebecca, and...” Valencia gave a surprised but happy cry when the cat clambered onto Heather’s lap. “...Shadow!”

“You’d make sure the cabin didn’t have any mice, wouldn’t you, bud?” Heather asked.

They both ran their hands along the cat’s short fur. Shadow started to doze almost immediately.

“I know we just made all of this up to pass the time, but the trip is starting to sound kind of fun,” Valencia admitted.

Heather smiled and trailed the fingertips of her free hand over Valencia’s hair. “I’ll text both of them tomorrow.”

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [three] // wanda maximoff

summary: Wanda's boyfriend continues to be an aggravation in your life, causing some distance between you and Wanda

warning/s: none

author's note: i really appreciate the feedback you guys gave in the last part – it’s always motivating to read your reactions/comments 🥰

part one | part two | part four | part five | masterlist | wattpad

Sorting things out with Wanda made everything return to normal in no time. So much in fact that she decided I was worth inviting to her and her brother's birthday party.

Never in a million years did I expect the most popular girl in our grade to know who I was, let alone invite me to her birthday party, so to say I was surprised was an understatement.

"It's not a big deal if you can't make it," she said when she handed me the invitation in class. "I mean, I'd love it if you could, but yeah, no pressure."

I was in awe, accepting the invite and reading it quickly. It must have been a pretty expensive party if she was giving out special invites, that's for sure.

"You want me to come?" I asked, still unsure whether this was a joke or not.

"Only if you want to," she said quickly, eyes darting around the room and anywhere but at me. "Like I said, you don't have to. It's not a big deal and– I– yeah." She pressed her lips together and stopped rambling, offering me a small smile.

"Thanks," I said quietly, slotting the invite in my notebook. "I'll, er, I'll think about it."

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and faced forward, nodding. "Yeah, sure, no rush."

After that awkward conversation, I discovered she'd also invited Y/BF/N, the two of them developing a little friendship the more she'd hung out with me. He didn't mind going, but only wanted to do so if I went.

"I feel like I kinda don't wanna go," I admitted to him after school as we were studying in the library.

"Oh?" He rose an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

I played with the pencil in my hand. "I don't know, it's just– it's gonna be full of all of her other friends. And they don't really like me. Plus, her dick of a boyfriend is gonna be there. I just think she might have invited me to be nice. Like she might have felt like she had to because we sit together, y'know?"

"I think you know that isn't true," he said knowingly. "Maybe, just maybe, she actually wants us there, wants you there, to celebrate her birthday."

I chewed the inside of my mouth, giving it some thought. But the idea of going to Wanda's house party and seeing a bunch of people I didn't care about getting pissed wasn't comforting. Besides, even if I went, I'd probably see Wanda once before she'd get scooped away by Nate. What was the point?

"Nah, I don't think I'm going," I decided. "She won't notice. I'll just get her a present instead."

Y/BF/N sighed, clearly not impressed with my answer. Nonetheless, he said, "Okay, suit yourself."

"You can go if you want," I added, knowing his presence wasn't linked with mine.

"No Y/N, no party," he said with a dismissive shrug, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Such a good friend," I said teasingly, but there was truth to my words. And I knew he knew that. 

When I saw photos and videos of Wanda and Pietro's party all over my social media the day after, I knew I'd made the right choice in not going. It was the same visuals of everyone getting drunk, doing stupid shit and making a mess. Call me a loser, but that wasn't really my scene. Pietro and Wanda both seemed to enjoy it though, judging from the pictures.

Instead, I bought her a birthday present, knowing I didn't have to but I kind of wanted to, and planned to give it to her when she turned up to class. It was her birthday today, despite throwing the party over the weekend, so I hoped it would make up for my absence (thought I doubted she noticed).

She showed up and settled beside me as I was writing the date in my notebook, making me look up to see she'd made an extra effort to dress up for her birthday, looking fancier than usual. I couldn't help but smile at the giant '18' birthday badge pinned to her jacket.

"Happy birthday, Wanda," was the first thing I said when I saw her. "You look amazing."

A bashful smile appeared on her lips. "Thank you, Y/N."

"I hope your party went well," I said, giving her my full attention whilst trying not to drool over how beautiful she looked.

Surprisingly, her smile faded and her eyebrows knitted together. "Yeah, it did... could you not make it? I tried looking for you and– yeah..."

I opened my mouth to speak, admittedly a little embarrassed that she'd caught me out. I was sure she wouldn't notice – the pictures made it seem like there were loads of guests, I'd definitely have blended in if I were there – but clearly I was mistaken.

"I just thought–" she began, before shaking her head. "Never mind."

"Sorry, I thought–" I started, but like her, didn't know what to say. "Parties aren't my thing," I admitted truthfully. "But it looked fun. You enjoyed it, right?"

She nodded, a small forced smile on her lips. "Yeah, right. It's cool. No biggie."

I swallowed awkwardly. It seemed like a biggie and now I felt bad.

"I, er, got you a gift," I blurted, hoping to change the subject. Reaching into my backpack, I pulled out the terribly wrapped present and held it out nervously. "I hope you, er, like it."

Her eyebrows raised as her eyes flickered between the present and I. "Oh? You didn't have to. I wasn't expecting anything."

Was it hot in here or was it just me?

I pulled my collar away from my neck, hoping to circulate some air. "I wanted to. It's not a big deal."

She accepted the gift, fingers brushing mine and making me even more nervous, before opening it up. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she revealed a brand new leather paintbrush carry case.

"The one you always carry around is tattered and falling apart, so I thought I'd get you a new one," I explained, feeling like I had to. "I mean, unless the other one has some sort of sentimental value, then in that case, I can just return this."

"Are you kidding? I love it!" she exclaimed, looking to me with a grin. "It's beautiful, Y/N. I don't even know what else to say."

My shoulders relaxed, a relieved smile tugging at my lips. "Good. Th-that's good. I'm glad you like it."

Without warning, she moved forward off her stool and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me in for a hug. I was startled, unable to think straight with her body pressed so close to mine and her floral perfume wafting into my nose. Why did she have to smell so good?

"Thank you," she muttered, pulling away but not quite letting go. Her eyes were glowing as they watched me carefully, accompanying her weak-in-the-knees smile. I was sure I'd melt. "It means a lot."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak for fear I'd say something stupid. I resisted the urge to look down at her lips, which were pulled into a small, appreciative smile. She let go of me, looking to the case again and unravelling it. I caught my breath meanwhile, my senses still on override as her perfume lingered.

She was just so damn beautiful.

—

"Okay, how about this – robotic or organic aliens. Which would you rather invade our planet?" Y/BF/N asked.

I chuckled at his question. "Definitely haven't thought about that one, but let's see..."

We were hanging in the bleachers out near the football field as we waited for football practice to end. Y/BF/N had a Film project to do and needed to film the field, so I offered to help like the good friend I was.

"Probably organic," I answered as I balanced on the bleachers, standing up and tiptoeing down them like steps. "At least we could reason with them if they tried to kill us because they'd have a conscience. Robotic aliens would just be programmed to take over and that's it."

Y/BF/N seemed against the idea as he played with his camera. "Yeah, but if they were robotic, all we'd have to do is launch a missile at them and they'd explode. You can break metal. It's harder to break organic matter."

I stifled a laugh. "You've given this much thought, I see."

He gave me a knowing look. "You telling me you don't think aliens exist?"

I stopped tiptoeing and stood still as I looked down at him with humoured eyes. "You know I know aliens exist."

He waved his hand like that was enough reasoning. "There you go then!"

I laughed, wondering how he thought of this stuff, then continued to balance as I walked down the bleachers. Probably the wrong choice as when I heard a voice call me, I looked up, saw it was Wanda, then proceeded to miss a step and fall onto my arse.

"Oh God, Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, moving forward to help me.

My face heated up as Y/BF/N laughed his arse off beside me. I accepted Wanda's hand and let her pull me up, before letting go immediately when I could handle it myself. Her presence always made me nervous, but this was just terrible.

"Yeah, I'm good," I said, glancing at her and freezing at her piercing gaze and suppressed smile.

"You sure?" she asked, glancing at Y/BF/N, before trying to hide her own laughter.

Fuck me, why was I such a mess whenever she was around?

"Very sure," I said, though my back began to ache from where I hit it. "What's up, anyway?"

Y/BF/N finally shut up, to my relief, and Wanda minimised her laughter before scratching her head.

"I'm waiting for practice to end so I can take Pietro home," she said, nodding to the field. "I saw you both sat here and thought I'd say hi. Are you guys watching practice?"

"Not really," I answered, before tilting my head to Y/BF/N. "We're just waiting for it to end so Y/BF/N can film for his project."

"Ooh, that sounds interesting," she said, intrigued and looking to him now. "What's that about?"

As he caught her up on it, I found myself checking Wanda out without realising. She was animated as she listened to Y/BF/N talk about his assignment, eyes giving him all of her attention, and a permanent smile was fixed on her lips as she listened to him. Though it wasn't directed at me, I felt butterflies swirling a storm in my stomach and clutched it, hoping they'd go away. I loved and hated the feeling all at once.

Breaking me from my reverie, a football flew past all three of us and hit the bleachers, startling us all. We looked in the direction it came from and saw the football team looking back at us, some laughing and some disgruntled. Two players ran towards us and when they got close enough, I made them out as Pietro and Nate.

Nate was laughing as he looked between us all, before his gaze fell on me. "It's Y/N, right? I feel like I'm always throwing that thing at you. Sorry about that."

But his constant laughing and lack of guilt refuted his words. I merely clenched my jaw and narrowed my eyes his way, not that he seemed to care nor notice. I was a mere fly in a world that revolved around him. He'd never notice.

"Babe, I'm sorry, I didn't even know you were over here," he added, looking to Wanda. "You okay?"

Wanda crossed her arms and seemed frustrated. "I'm fine, Nate. Just get your ball."

He shrugged and grabbed his ball. Before leaving, he pressed a kiss to Wanda's cheek which made me wince, but she made no attempt in enjoying it. He didn't seem to care as he took off running back to his team. Pietro smiled apologetically at the three of us.

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "He can be such a dick sometimes."

That was the understatement of the century.

With that, he turned and ran back to his team to finish up. Wanda sighed, running a hand through her hair, as Y/BF/N and I exchanged glances.

"I should get the car running," she said awkwardly, pointing a thumb over her shoulder and towards the car park. "Good luck with your assignment, Y/BF/N. And I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N."

Waving goodbye with an awkward smile, I watched her leave and wondered the same thing I always did whenever Nate decided to make an appearance in my life.

How could she be dating such a dick?

—

Apart from the birthday party I didn't go to, I'd never been invited (or had a reason to go) to Wanda's house. I'd seen it, rode my bike past it, but never actually been in it. So, when she invited me to her place to work on a project we'd been assigned in class, I was unsure how to feel. She was adamant though and I had no reason to say no, so the only thing left to do was say yes. Even when she offered to drive me there after school.

"This is your car?" I asked with disbelief.

I knew absolutely nothing about cars, but I wasn't blind. Hers was a gorgeous deep red colour with a convertible roof that was currently lowered so anyone in it would feel the sun on their back and wind in their hair.

"Yeah, you like it?" she asked as she got into the driver's seat.

I gulped and sat in the passenger's seat, throwing my backpack at my feet. "It's so nice. You sure you don't mind me drinking in this?"

I had a Pepsi bottle in my hand and was deathly afraid of opening it now in case I spilt it and the cleaning bill would be more than I made in a year at the pizza parlour.

She laughed, already pulling out of the car park. "Of course. Don't be silly."

I glanced in her direction, trying not to get distracted by how good she looked in the driver's seat. She was wearing a red leather jacket, funnily enough, matching the exterior of her car, and she had dark eyeliner around her eyes, accentuating the shape and colour of them and leaving me speechless whenever she looked my way.

"There's CDs in the glove compartment," she was saying as she focused on the road. "Or you can mess around with the radio. It's up to you."

"CDs?" I asked, it piquing my interest. I reached into the glove compartment, adding, "What is this, the 2000s?"

She rolled her eyes playfully, accepting my teasing, as I flicked through the small stack of albums.

"I don't know, I guess I just like having the physical version," she said with a shrug. "It's kind of like a collection."

I chuckled at her need to explain herself, watching the way she rubbed her neck nervously, smiling with embarrassment. Looking back to the albums, a particular one grabbed my attention and I plucked it out with raised brows.

"Oh my God, you like Paramore?" I asked, looking to her with surprise. "Now it's definitely the 2000s."

Her cheeks flushed as she grew flustered. I nudged her in the side gently, getting her attention briefly.

"I'm kidding," I reassured, tilting my head her way playfully. "I actually love Paramore. They're my favourite band."

"Really?" she asked with surprise as I put the CD in her car. I hummed in response, to which she continued, "Have you ever seen them live?"

As For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic played quietly in the background, I nodded my head. "Yeah, once. It was a few years ago, but the tickets were shitty and I could just about make them out on stage in the distance."

Wanda laughed, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "No, that's so sad!"

I chuckled in agreement. "Yeah. It was, but oh well. They have a tour coming up this summer, right? Maybe I can get better tickets this time 'round... what about you? Have you ever seen them live?"

She hummed, making a turn at some traffic lights and chewing her lower lip as she focused on doing so. It was definitely the wrong time, but I found myself admiring how attractive it was, especially when her jaw tensed and her defined jawline was on display.

"Yeah, I saw them a few times," she finally responded, pulling me from my stupor. "Some really good seats, some really shitty ones." She giggled at the end, making me smile. "Maybe we could go to that concert in the summer. If you're up for it?"

This seemed like one of those times where you made plans with a friend that you knew would never happen, so to not cause an awkwardness in the conversation, I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, maybe."

She glanced at me and I mirrored her smile, the flash of excitement in her eyes knocking me breathless.

When we reached her house, I was awestruck at how big it was from the inside. I mean, it looked huge from the outside, but the inside was even better. Her family were rich, I knew that, but this was some other level of rich.

"Here, c'mon, I'll get you a drink, then we can go into the dining room to start," Wanda said, failing to recognise my amazement and instead leading me to the kitchen. "We have tropical juice, apple juice, water, Sprite, Cola... which d'you want?"

I settled at the island, taking a seat and subtly admiring her kitchen. "Er, apple juice is fine with me."

She smiled brightly before pouring me a glass, whilst pouring herself some Sprite. Standing opposite me, we both took a moment to have a drink, but didn't get chance to exchange words as her mum entered the room and noticed me instantly.

"Y/N, it's so lovely to see you again!" she said kindly, patting me on the shoulder before heading to the fridge. "You girls hanging out? Studying?"

"We have a project," Wanda filled in as I nodded in agreement. "We alright to claim the dining room?"

After grabbing some water from the fridge, Wanda's mum pressed a kiss to her daughter's cheek. "Sure thing, sweetie. If you need anything, just let me know." Smiling once more at me, she said, "It's good to see you, Y/N."

"You too," I said with a friendly smile before she left.

"Come on," Wanda said, motioning for me to follow. "We have tons to do."

The next hour and a half was spent with Wanda and I planning out our project, our work sprawled along the dining table messily. We were making progress, until she got a call suddenly. It seemed serious as she gave me an apologetic glance and excused herself. I let her go and leaned back in my seat, wondering what I could do as I waited for her to return. That thought was resolved quite quickly when Pietro popped his head in the doorway and spotted me.

"Y/N! What an honour to welcome you to our humble abode," he exclaimed, entering the room fully. "What brings you here?"

Pietro's presence always brought an amused smile to my lips. "Wanda and I are working on a Chemistry project. She's just nipped out for a phone call."

He tutted dramatically, crossing his arms. "Well, well, well. We can't have that! Wanda needs to learn to entertain her guests. C'mon. I was about to head to the gaming room and could use the company."

I was visibly surprised. "You have a gaming room? Dude, that's awesome!"

He laughed. "C'mon."

Joining Pietro, the two of us headed to this so-called gaming room and I was not disappointed. There was a huge TV with a PlayStation and Nintendo Switch connected to it, a snooker table, a foosball table, a dart board, some old arcade games – it was amazing, any gamer's biggest dream.

"What you feeling, princess?" he said with that flirtatious smile of his.

I rolled my eyes playfully. He was being overtly flirty, more so than his sister was – was it a Maximoff personality trait or something? – and I wasn't sure whether he meant it or was just being his usual self.

"Are you flirting?" I deadpanned, tilting my head curiously. "I can't tell."

He pocketed his hands, swinging back on the heels of his feet. "That depends. Is it working?"

Despite my lack of interest in him like that, I felt my face heat up at the attention. "Pietro, I must tell you that any moves you attempt to make kind of won't work."

"And why's that?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the snooker table with a cheeky smile on his lips. "Am I not your type?"

"Unless you change into a girl, then no," I played along, making him flush with embarrassment. "Hate to break it to you, but I'm gay."

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," he mumbled to himself, before sighing and meeting my eyes. "We can still be friends, right? Or is that forbidden since you're already friends with my sister?"

I laughed and approached him. "Friends works. I don't think Wanda will care. I certainly don't."

He grinned. "Awesome! Well, d'you wanna play a round of foosball?"

"Sure," I said with an amused expression. "Bet I can kick your arse."

He pushed himself off the table and feigned surprise. "Oh? Game on, Y/L/N."

I didn't realise how long Wanda had been on the phone until I managed to get through three rounds of foosball and was in the middle of a snooker game with Pietro.

"You may have beat me at foosball, but you're terrible at this," he pointed out with stifled laughter.

I'd missed my third shot and it was more funny than it was embarrassing.

"Your talking distracts me," I said dismissively, before lining up the next shot with my cue.

He watched as I tried to take my shot before sighing loudly. I glanced at him with a quirked brow.

"You have a thought you'd like to share?" I asked playfully.

He hesitated, moving forward to correct my posture. "Look, if you just aim it like this–"

"Don't even think about it, Romeo," I said jokingly, standing up straight and pushing him away gently. "I know what you're thinking."

He laughed. "What? I was just going to help you aim!"

I gave him a knowing look. "So holding me close is just a bonus?"

"Fine, take your shot without my help and see what happens," he said dismissively, waving his hand.

"I'll do just that," I said with confidence, before bending down and taking my shot. The ball hit the other and neither were pocketed, which was an achievement as I'd got the cue ball in several times before, but still pretty shit as I didn't score any points.

Pietro smiled with satisfaction, leaning on his cue. "You happy with that?"

I held in a laugh as I looked to him. "Shut up."

He chuckled before bumping me out the way. "Now for the professional."

Bending down to take his shot, he pulled back his cue before hitting the balls. They rolled around on the table and one ball was about to go in, but I quickly grabbed it before he could get the point.

"Y/N!" he shouted between laughter. "That's cheating!"

"Technically we didn't establish rules," I pointed out, before moving backwards as he tried to grab it from my hand. "What do you say to calling it a draw and playing something else?"

"I say that's a childish way to admit you've lost," he responded, before moving forward quickly. I dodged his attempt and he pursed his lips. "Y/N."

"Pietro."

He smirked. "Seriously?"

I grinned.

He tried to grab it again and ended up chasing me around the room as I avoided giving in. Taking the piss out of Y/BF/N enough times had prepared me for moments like this, so I was able to avoid Pietro long enough to run into whoever walked through the door.

"Shit, Wanda, I'm sorry," I said between laughter, steadying both me and her.

She smiled with confusion, about to speak, but Pietro caught up to me and lifted me up, throwing me onto the couch before I could protest.

"No more cheating," he said sternly, as I lifted my head from the pile of cushions on the couch to look up at him.

"You're an arse," I said, pushing myself up off the couch.

"And you're a sore loser!"

We had a mini staring competition before the two of erupted into laughter.

"You're not half bad, Pietro," I complimented as he helped me up.

"Thank you, princess," he said, the flirtatious smile on his lips again.

I shoved him in the shoulder playfully before looking to Wanda, who was chewing on her lip as she looked between Pietro and I with an unreadable expression.

"So, what prompted you to leave Y/N alone for an hour?" Pietro asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, making me shove him away. He grinned at me before looking to Wanda.

"Nate called," Wanda responded carefully, arms crossed as she continued to look between us. God, I hoped she didn't think Pietro and I liked each other. That would be embarrassing.

Pietro scoffed from beside me, making Wanda sigh with annoyance.

"Don't start, Piet," she said and gave him a look which he seemed to understand.

By the sounds of it, Pietro didn't seem to like Wanda's dick of a boyfriend either. That was strange since wasn't impressing the brother the first part of being in a relationship with someone? And they were on the same football team, so I figured he'd at least tolerate him.

"Are we alright to get back to studying?" Wanda asked, directing her stare to me. The annoyance she held for Pietro was still present in her eyes and I suddenly felt nervous when she looked my way.

"Yeah, of course," I said, before giving Pietro a half-smile. "Rematch at snooker next time. Sound good?"

"Try to keep the balls on the table and we'll see," he teased, before nodding to Wanda. "You should get back to your project before Wanda kills us both with her deadly glare."

I smiled awkwardly, looking back to Wanda as she was indeed glaring at her brother. Clearly there was some sibling rivalry going on here, and I definitely didn't want to get in the middle of it, so I headed to Wanda, signalling I was ready to leave.

The two of us headed back to the dining room in an uncomfortable silence. I felt like I'd done something wrong and she was giving me the silent treatment which was strange. Then I figured it was probably something with Nate that made her annoyed, so didn't question it too much.

We sat back down and I looked at what we'd done so far to try and pick up where we left off, but then she spoke out of the blue, taking me by surprise.

"Do you like my brother?"

It was so abrupt that I took a moment to acknowledge it, blinking. "What?"

"Pietro," she clarified, saying it with such dismissiveness like it wasn't a big deal. Her attention was on the books before us as she continued, "Do you like him?"

I tried not to laugh as I shook my head. "No, Wanda. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a great guy. But yeah, no, I don't like him like that."

She chewed her lip, nodding, but I swear I saw a hint of a smile on her lips. I hoped it wasn't the thought of Pietro and I that made her annoyed. I wasn't that bad, was I? I know she cared about her brother and was probably overprotective, but me being his girlfriend couldn't have been that bad, right?

We got back to work in no time, getting a lot done. I didn't realise how late it was getting until Wanda's mum poked her head in, asking if I wanted to stay for dinner.

"Dinner?" I asked, eyebrows raising with surprise. I checked my watch and realised how long I'd been here. "Damn, maybe I should head back."

"Nonsense, you must stay," her mum insisted. "Y/M/N won't mind. A daughter of hers is a daughter of mine."

"You can even sleepover if you want," Wanda offered, and I almost choked on my own spit. "It's getting pretty late."

I shook my head, forcing a small smile so they wouldn't get offended. "Honestly, it's fine. I can head back."

"Please?" Wanda asked with a hopeful expression. "It's the least I can do. I kinda wasted your time for an hour earlier..."

"I should ask my mum," I said, chewing on the inside of my mouth.

"Oh, I'll ring and let her know," Wanda's mum said breezily, before looking to Wanda. "D'you think you can clear your things up? Your brother is gonna set the table."

"Sure, mum." Wanda smiled her way as she left, before looking to me. "I've got clothes and a spare toothbrush you can use tonight."

I smiled awkwardly, nodding. Sleeping over at my crush's house wasn't how I thought I'd be spending my Wednesday evening, yet here we were.