#no but this was fun to do thanks for the push ^^

[planetaryupscaled]

Everything's Fine if You Pretend

Male Reader x Danielle

Tags: 28k, smut, first time, creampie, oral

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Danielle cocked her head with the same impish grin she always wore.

“She’s uh, asking if you would like to come to the wedding.”

“Why?” She almost seemed cocky—oh she always did.

“Because you’re a friend.” I said, stepping over the curb as we crossed the street. “She likes you more than me.”

“Your sister wants me to be her plus-one? Seems a little weird.”

“My plus-one, actually.” I managed. “She’s forcing me to take somebody and she wants it to be you.”

Danielle smirked. “Why me? Surely if she wants you to take somebody, you can just ask one of your pals to take to a boring wedding.”

“You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

Her knowing grin could light up the sky. “Absolutely. So, I ask again, why does it have to be me?”

The sigh that escaped my lips was filled with a mixture of defeat and deep embarrassment. “Because she thinks we’re dating.”

“There it is!” Danielle laughed loudly as we approached the roundabout.

“It’s not what you think! They wouldn’t stop bugging me about trying to find a girlfriend. ‘Girlfriend’ this, ‘girlfriend’ that and ‘how come you are twenty and still single?’ Ugh. It’s exhausting.”

“They?”

“Who else do you think? my parents, my sister.”

Danielle crossed her arms over her chest and playfully nudged me with her shoulder. “So, your first instinct was to lie and say that I was your girlfriend?”

“Well, I tried a few times, but it never worked out. Since they wouldn’t shut up about it, I figured the best course of action was to say that we were dating just to get them off my back.”

“Okay then, new question. How long have we been dating, sweetie?”

“I told them last November.”

Danielle’s eyes widened and her mouth was held agape in a smile of mock disbelief. “No way, we’ve been dating for a year and you haven’t told me?”

“We aren’t dating!”

“Hmm. It’s a wonder you haven’t proposed...”

“Danielle! We. Aren’t. Dating.”

“Well, apparently we are, since that must be the reason why your mom invited me to join at every holiday dinner since last year, and why my parents let me.”

“Wait, what?”

“We’re neighbours, you dummy! You think our parents don’t talk with each other? The day you told your mom we were dating, she told my parents, who asked me about it. I just played along.”

“You knew this entire time and said nothing? What was with the entire conversation up to this point?”

She grinned and leaned her head over my shoulder. “Do you have any idea how fun it is? You get all red and you tuck your head like a turtle.”

I pushed her off, but returned her smile. “You such a … “

“Hey now, you are the one who lied. I’m just having some fun with the consequences. So, what about this wedding?”

I sighed. “All you have to do is say that you can’t make it. Just say that you have to go visit a family or something.”

“Why do I have to do it?”

“Because she won’t believe me. If she hears it from you, then she will.”

“Why not just tell her the truth that we aren’t actually a couple?”

“And admit that I lied for almost a year? Pass.”

Danielle stretched her arms above her head and leaned back, which helped to accentuate her figure. One of the consequences to growing up with a female best friend was watching her develop into a beautiful young woman. She was slender but toned thanks to her years of being in cheerleader. Her body was shaped well underneath her light grey hoodie and black skinny jeans, with gentle curves and supple breasts. They were small but seemed to be fairly well shaped.

Did I have a crush on her? I used to.

Did she know that? Absolutely.

Did she seem to care? Not at all.

-

“Why not lie and tell that we broke up?”

“They like you too much. I think that might actually kill them.”

Danielle rolled her eyes. “You know this charade is going to meet an ugly end eventually, right? The longer it goes on, the worse it’s going to be when they peek behind the curtain.”

“I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it. For now, can you just tell her that you can’t make it to the wedding?” I pleaded. Danielle sighed as we turned the corner on the sidewalk and began walking up the driveway to my house.

“Fine. But you owe me. Anything else I need to know?”

“She was thinking about inviting you out for breakfast tomorrow. Again, all you need to do is say you already have plans.”

Danielle frowned. “You know I’ll be cashing in these favours sooner rather than later, right?”

I laxed in relief and unlocked the front door. “I’ll take whatever I can get. Just... please.”

-

My sister called out the moment the door opened. “How was the movie?”

Before I had a chance to open my mouth, Danielle chirped up with a wicked smile. “It was great, Unnie!”

My sister almost sprinted around the corner, and I could only hold my head in shame. “Danielle!” my sister cried gleefully and pulling her into a tight hug, her eyes glared daggers at me.

“Why don’t you go get her a drink?”

“Diet coke please, sweetie.” Danielle grinned.

I had to keep from cursing under my breath as I kicked off my shoes and stepped towards the kitchen. Over my shoulder, I could tell my sister lowered her voice as she quietly spoke to Danielle, but she was still so excited that I could easily hear them both.

“Sweetie? That’s new.”

I swear, I could see the grin on Danielle’s face even around the corner.

“Yeah, we kept it really casual for a while, but we talked and we’re ready to start taking things a bit more seriously. He’s actually taking me out for brunch tomorrow.”

I winced, but removed the requested drink from the fridge. Really? Her choice for alternate plans was a date?

“Oh really? we planned on having breakfast tomorrow. He never said anything about a date.”

“Oh, well if you two have plans, then we can easily reschedule...”

“Nonsense! You two enjoy your date. Has he told you about the wedding?”

I could see Danielle’s feigned curiosity when I stepped back into the room.

“What wedding?”

The death glares my sister gave made me silently vow to slap Danielle.

“I’ve been telling you to ask her for weeks.”

“Noona, I just…” she cut me off by turning back to face Danielle.

“We are going to a relative’s wedding in Jeju the day after tomorrow. I know this is extremely last minute...” Her dagger-like stare made a bead of sweat form on the back of my neck. “...but I was wondering if you wanted to come with us?”

Danielle tilted her head like she was remembering something. That, or dumping the bullshit out of her ears.

“Right, my parents mentioned that you two were gonna be gone for a few days. They never said anything about me coming with you, though.”

“Well, I wanted HIM to be the one to ask you, but obviously he still hasn’t after a month. You’d think that he would care at least a little bit.”

“Noona...” I fumbled for a lie that seemed more appropriate than ‘I didn’t ask her because we’re not dating’. “…I figured she wouldn’t enjoy it. It’s just a wedding, and I don’t want to force her to do something she’ll hate.”

I passed Danielle her drink. Unfortunately, my sister seemed intent on winning this battle. “That is her choice to make, not yours. Ask her.”

A sigh escaped my lips while I looked between the two women. One glaring like she was going to beat me with the business end of a flip-flop, and the other trying her hardest to keep from laughing out loud.

“Would you like to come to Jeju with me for the wedding?” Danielle’s smile dripped with her classic impish charm.

“I would love to.”

-

When the door was carefully closed, I turned back to Danielle who made herself comfortable sitting on the edge of my bed while sipping her drink.

“Dan, what the fuck?”

She chuckled. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

“All you had to do was say you had plans, and then you wouldn’t need to come to this wedding.”

“I don’t have plans, and I want to come.”

“You do?”

Danielle set her can on my nightstand and lied back on the bed, spreading her arms out towards either side like she was trying to make half a snow angel in the wrinkles of my comforter.

“Yeah. I don’t have anything to do, and this genuinely sounds like it will be fun. Three days in Jeju? Count me in.”

“You do realize we’re going to have to pretend the entire trip, right?”

“That’s what’s gonna make it fun.”

“You’re an ass.” I smiled and sat down on the bed, looking down at her.

“Again, I’m just enjoying the consequences of your actions.”

A moment of silence passed. I scratched the side of my face.

“Did you have to use a date as your way out of breakfast tomorrow?”

Danielle propped herself up on her elbows and grinned. “Hey, it gets you out of having to have breakfast with her too.”

“Okay, good point. But brunch? Really?”

“It’s the first thing that came to mind.”

“I thought only old people called it brunch.”

“You can call it whatever you want!”

“Late breakfast.”

“Fine.”

“Early lunch.”

“Sure.”

“Very early dinner.”

Danielle pursed her lips. “Are you done?”

“Midnight snack?”

She sighed. “Okay, this conversation isn’t going anywhere. Tomorrow, I’ll come over at ten, and then we can head out. What do you wanna do? Another movie?”

“Huh? I thought we were going to eat.”

“We don’t have to, dumbass!” Danielle laughed. “I just said that to get both of us out of breakfast. As long as we leave and stay gone for an hour or two, it doesn’t matter what we do. So, what do you want to do tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, what do you want?”

“Hmm, it’s like talking to a brick wall, except a wall is usually more decisive.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“Fuck. You.”

“That’s the plan.” she smirked. “You know, since we’re dating now, and that’s what couples do, but we’re gonna need to be quiet since your sister is right downstairs.”

“Dan...”

“No, actually, I’m supposed to be the one calling your name.”

“Danielle!”

-

As it turned out, late breakfast was exactly what we did. Danielle sat across from me in the booth, slowly picking away at her Bibimbap while I chowed down on my Bulgoki. As usual, we were both dressed in our hoodies and jeans like a pair of mannequins. But, something was different about Danielle. It was subtle.

“Are you wearing makeup?” I asked, and she batted her eyes.

“Just a bit of foundation. Why, see something you like?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear makeup. I’m surprised.”

“Well, if we’re going to a wedding tomorrow, then I need some practice.”

“During early lunch...”

Danielle rolled her eyes. “Well, a girl needs makeup for a date.”

“This isn’t a date.” I sighed.

“Yeah, but your sister thinks so, and that’s what matters.”

“There is no way she saw that you were wearing makeup.”

Danielle took another forkful and chuckled. “She noticed the moment I walked in the door.”

“I doubt that.”

“Hey, don’t get mad because it took you half an hour to see it.”

“Yeah, but you were only in the house for like, fifteen seconds!”

“And during that time, she commented about it and said that I did a good job.”

“When?”

“When you went back upstairs to grab your hoodie.” Danielle said, matter-of-factly.

“You’re pulling my leg.”

“Am not. Here, look at that couple over there.” Danielle pointed her gaze and I followed it to a pair that was sitting at a table towards the middle of the room. Why they weren’t at one of the many open booths near the windows, I didn’t know.

“What do you see about them?” Danielle asked.

“Well, a guy and a girl. They’re having a very early dinner together.”

“You’re never going to call it brunch, are you?”

“Not on your life.”

Danielle sighed. “Fine. The girl. Is she wearing makeup?”

I turned my attention away from guy, and towards his companion. From this distance though, I couldn’t make any confirmations on whether she was wearing makeup. She looked completely natural.

“No.”

Danielle made a quiet noise like a buzzer for an incorrect answer. “It’s subtle, but lipstick at the very least. If I had to guess, I would also say a bit of a touch of foundation.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because I can. Now, about more serious matters,” Danielle turned back to me, but I kept my gaze fixed on the couple. The restaurant was quiet, and I could faintly overhear the boy talking, even though his voice was lowered.

“Hey! You there?”

“Huh?” My attention was torn back to Danielle, who was staring with an amused expression.

“Did you hear anything I asked?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“You— I asked what the plan was for the wedding.”

I faltered. “We’re... pretending to be a couple?”

Danielle rolled her eyes so wide it must have hurt.

“That’s already been established! I’m asking when are we leaving? How are we travelling? What are we doing when we’re at Jeju? What’s the plan for the hotel? What time is the wedding? When are we coming back?”

I winced at the assault of questions. “Okay, okay, I get it.” I took a deep breath.

“As far as I know, we’re driving down to Jeju, and we’re leaving at noon tomorrow. Knowing my sister, we’ll actually end up leaving at eleven, and she would want you to be packed and at our house by nine thirty. When we’re at Jeju, we’re going to check into the hotel and hang out there until dinner, and then we’re going to Cheonjiyeon Waterfalls.”

“Sounds romantic.” Danielle joked. I ignored the red in my cheeks.

“Anyway, then we go back to the hotel and in the morning, we get ready for the reception. It starts at one, everyone is there by noon, she’ll makes us be there for ten, you know the drill. The wedding ends after dinner, we stay at the hotel again, then head home in the morning.”

“Alright, but that still leaves one question.”

“What’s that?”

“The hotel.” Danielle raised her eyebrows like I should know what she was implying.

“What about the hotel?”

Danielle’s eyebrows dropped to an annoyed glare. “How many rooms, dummy? Are the three of us staying in the same room?”

“Uh, no.” I said quickly. It was difficult to meet her eyes. “Two rooms. One for her, and the other for us two.”

“Okay, so we’ll have to be quiet when we have sex if your sister is in the next room.”

I decided not to speak, and buried my face into my bulgoki. It tasted great just a minute ago, but now it tasted like shame. Danielle just smirked and pressed her opening.

“Who knows, maybe while you’re railing me, she’ll be able to hear us on the other side of the wall.”

Danielle had always been... blunt, but this vulgarity was new. Hearing her talk like that made all the blood in my body rush to my face. Well, that, and one other place.

“Dan! What’s wrong with you?”

She holds up her hands defensively, like I was the one crossing the line.

“Hey, if we’re dating, your sister expects us to be having sex.”

“Again, we’re just pretending. And it’s only for three days!”

“What about when we get back? What’s your brilliant scheme then?”

I winced into the few bites left of my bulgoki. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

Danielle polished off the last of her bibimbap and grinned. “Well, you better think quickly. You done eating?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go to the washroom, you can pay, and then we’ll head out.”

“Wait, why do I have to pay?” I protested.

“Because I know that your sister slipped you some money. I’ll be right back!”

Danielle left the table, and I took one last bite before signalling the waiter. Meanwhile, I tried to calm down the erection that had formed in my pants. I really didn’t need her to see it when I stood up to leave. Why was she being so care-free now godamit.

Did she like the idea of us being together? No, absolutely not. She expressed a long time ago that she didn’t see me that way, when I had the guts to confess to her in six grade. We barely talked for months afterwards. Now, she was just taking the opportunity of my stupid lie to torment me. There wasn’t any point in getting hung up on something that was never going to happen.

-

It was a few minutes before Danielle returned, and I gave her an exhausted smile. Her cheeks were red when she looked at me, and she almost looked shy when she sat down. I raised an eyebrow.

“What, did you fall in or something?”

Danielle shook her head. “No. You didn’t check your phone?”

“I left it at home. Oh god, what kind of horrible memes did you send me this time?”

Danielle paused. “Uh, you’ll see.”

“Great. I can’t wait to get home and question your sanity. Let’s go.”

-

Aside from Danielle stopping to play with a small terrier being walked by an older man, our stroll back was uneventful. Danielle returned to her house as I stepped into mine. I wasn’t surprised when I immediately heard my sister walk out of the living room.

“How was your date?” She called.

“Good.”

“Did you tell her about…”

She rounded the corner, and I cut her off. “Yes, I told her about the plans, what time we’re leaving, and everything else. Don’t worry.”

She didn’t look satisfied yet. “Did you pay with the money I gave you?”

“Noona, I would have paid even if you didn’t give me money.”

“Well, I’m sorry for worrying. Danielle’s a good one.”

“You don’t need to worry about it. Everything’s under control.”

The slight wrinkles in her face deepened.

“Do you really love Danielle?”

Sucker punch to the gut.

“Uh... what?”

“I’m just asking, because it seems like things aren’t going very well. You two obviously brought your relationship to the next level, but it doesn’t seem like you’re happy. Danielle is, but you aren’t.”

“Why do you ask?” I said cautiously.

She frowned. “You two have been dating for over a year, but I’ve never even seen you hug each other, much less anything else. I understand keeping things casual, but intentionally not inviting her to the wedding? Why do you not want her to come?”

I stammered. “Because... I don’t think she would enjoy it. There won’t be anyone she knows there, and...” My voice faltered. She sighs.

“If things are going badly between you two, all you have to do is tell me. I can help, you know.”

“Everything’s fine, Noona. I promise.”

She just got a sad look in her eyes and turned away. “I really wish you wouldn’t lie to me. I don’t want you to lose the best woman you’re ever going to find.”

“Well, I’m gonna go upstairs.”

“You left your phone in the kitchen.” She offered flatly. “Danielle sent some... interesting pictures.”

I winced.

“They’re called memes. Don’t worry, Danielle doesn’t actually mean those things.”

“Uh-huh.” Was her only reply while I grabbed my phone. I didn’t look at the screen until I was halfway up the stairs. At that point, my jaw dropped and I almost tripped. I could only manage to stumble up the rest of the steps and shut myself in my room before looking closer at the four pictures.

Only one was the horrible meme I expected. Instead, my gaze was affixed on the other three pictures.

They were photos, obviously taken in a public washroom.

Photos of Danielle.

The first was a classic selfie using the washroom mirror, but Danielle wasn’t wearing her hoodie. Her hand not holding the phone had her shirt pulled up to her chin, revealing her lack of a bra.

Fuck.

From her slender, smooth stomach all the way up to her navel, her skin was the same flawless shade of pale ivory as it wrapped around and under her supple breasts. They were perhaps a single handful each, with delicate skin and perfect, small, perky nipples in the center of each mass.

Danielle’s cheeks were red, but her smile couldn’t have been brighter.

The second photo was similar to the first, in the sense that the photo was looking into the reflection of the mirror. This time, Danielle’s shirt was removed altogether, but she was facing away so I could only see her soft back and a hint of sideboob. She grinned over her shoulder, and her other hand had her jeans and panties pulled down below the cheeks of her rear end, showing her small yet pert, bare and flawless ass. It was clear even in the soft shading of her bottom.

I knew I should have looked away—it was wrong for me to be looking at these pictures, much less staring at them. Surely, she sent them to the wrong person. Either that, or she had sent the wrong photos altogether. Either way, my lower appendage was as hard as granite and made my jeans very uncomfortable, very quickly.

The last picture made my throat catch. She was sitting on the floor of the washroom, using her hoodie like a towel underneath her. Her hand held the phone in between her legs, looking back up at her. The only thing she wore was a smile.

Her legs were spread, her other hand was placed on the smooth, hairless patch of skin in between her thighs. Because of that, the view of her lower lips was very obscured, but no less erotic. Only her thumb, forefinger and pinky were visible. I could take a wild guess as to where the other two fingers were.

I don’t know how long I stared at the pictures of my best friend, completely slack-jawed. I mean, sure, I’ve thought about what Danielle looked like naked. Every straight guy with a female friend has done the same. Still, I never expected to get proven so wrong. Every part of her was somehow better than the mental image my mind had conjured. It was different, yes, but definitely better.

Her breasts looked slightly different than I imagined, but they fit much better proportionally. Her ass was pert, years of cheerleader made it toned and smooth like two perfect globes.

Her pussy was clean shaven instead of having a small patch as I expected. However, the lack of hair simply let all of the attention be directed towards the beautiful flower being spread open by a pair of delving fingers.

Somehow, I fumbled around enough to sit down on the edge of my bed and start a video call. After undoing the button on my jeans and letting the bulge in my boxers have a bit more room to breathe, of course.

Danielle answered before the first ring finished. Her hoodie was discarded, leaving her in just her t-shirt. In my mind’s eye, I could still see it bunched up underneath her chin and showing her shapely breasts. Danielle still had the same smile from the photos.

“Calling so soon after the date? A girl would think you’re needy. I take it you liked my meme?”

“I uh... I think you might have sent me the wrong pictures.”

“Oh no.” Danielle frowned. “What pictures did I send?”

“Uh, there was um... they were photos of you.”

“Of me?” Danielle raised an amused eyebrow.

“Yeah.” I confirmed. “With... without clothes.”

Danielle grinned. “Why are you so awkward?”

“Huh?”

“I meant to send those. That’s what I was doing in the washroom before we left.”

I floundered. “So, you mean that…”

“While you were paying, I was taking... an artistic photo of mine, and sending them to you. It’s a shame you left your phone at home. I would have loved to see you get so embarrassed in public.”

“Why?”

Danielle giggled and laid back. I could tell that like me, she had been sitting on the edge of her bed, but had now lied down and was holding her phone in the air above her face. Her hair fanned out around her head like a halo.

“Because couples send each other nudes, dummy! If we’re gonna pretend to be a couple, it would be a lot more convincing if you have a few pictures of me on your phone. I can send some more, if you want…”

“No!” I said quickly. Danielle’s grin faded, and I took a breath.

“Dan, my sister saw those pictures.”

Her smile returned, but it seemed like it was only halfway there. “Good.”

“How is that good?!”

“Because,” said Danielle, “…that should help to convince her that we’re dating. Otherwise, why would I be sending you nudes? Speaking of which, how did she even see them? Don’t you have a lock on your phone?”

“No.”

“Why not? Aren’t you worried about random people going through your stuff?”

“How would they do that? I keep my phone on me all the time.”

Danielle just stared, unimpressed. “You have your phone at all times, huh?”

“Okay…” I relented. “I left it at home a few times, but my sister is the only person who’ll see it, and she’s not much for snooping.”

“And it’s because she doesn’t snoop that she saw a picture of me fingering myself?”

I swallowed my tongue along with the rest of my argument. Danielle had a point. She must have seen her victory, since her eyes twinkled.

“If you want to make my tits your home screen, I’ll just ask that you put a password first. I think one look at my goodies is enough for your sister.”

In the small image of myself in the lower corner of the screen, I could see the red on my cheeks. After a moment of silence, Danielle chuckled.

“What did she think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did she make any comments about the pictures or anything?”

I shook my head. “Uh, no. She just said that you sent some interesting pictures, and that was it.”

The gap between Danielle’s eyebrows narrowed. “I know your sister, and that seems strangely vague for her.”

“I think...” The words struggled to form proper sentences. “…I think it’s because she doesn’t entirely believe us.”

“She doesn’t think we’re dating?”

“No, I think it’s more along the lines of her believing that we’re dating a little too much.”

Danielle looked confused. “Okay, you’re gonna have to walk me through this one because you aren’t making sense.”

I let out a sigh. “Think of it from her point of view. We’ve been ‘dating’ for a year, but absolutely nothing has changed. We still act the same way we always have—as best friends and neighbours. Now, I was so reluctant to invite you to the wedding.”

Danielle waited after I finished my sentence. Several seconds passed before she lifted her hand and made a keep going movement. “Come on, you gotta give me a little more here. Instead of beating around the bush, just say what’s the problem.”

“From what I understand, she fully believes that we’re dating, but also thinks that we’re having some problems and are on the verge of breaking up.”

Danielle frowned. “I literally sent you a picture of my—and she thinks we’re gonna split? What kind of logic is that?”

I struggled to find the best way to put my thoughts into words. No matter what way I said it, it sounded odd.

“Actually, I think she believes that you’re in the relationship, but not me.”

“And how does that work?”

“I actively avoided inviting you to anything. Now you’re sending me nudes. I think she believes that I’m going to break up with you.”

“Oh.” Danielle looked genuinely speechless. I could usually tell what she was thinking at any given moment. Right now, she was an enigma. She risked a half-grin.

“It sounds like you should pick up the slack, make her believe.”

“And how am I supposed to do that? We’re not actually dating. I can’t just start making out with you in front of her.”

“Why not? I sent you nudes. Take the leap.”

“Wait, what?”

Danielle just gave a weak smile, her cheeks flushing with a tinge of pink. “I’ve gotta start packing. See you tomorrow.”

The last thing I saw before the call ended was Danielle giving a kiss towards the camera. I was stuck there, dumbfounded, and trying to wrap my head around what was happening.

-

Danielle was taking this ‘pretend couple’ thing way too far. The worst part was, I couldn’t even bring myself to be mad about it. She had made it clear a long time ago that she wasn’t interested—basically just told me to grow a pair and step up the act on our fake relationship.

Take the leap?

I shook my head, trying to force the thoughts away like they were insects that had crawled in my ears. No. I buried those fantasies years ago. I won’t let them dig their way out just because of an act. I fell in love with her a long time ago. If that happened again...

I wasn’t sure if there was any way to recover from that.

I opened our text messages again and tried not to stare at the nude selfies as I deleted them. Sadly, I couldn’t make them vanish from my mind as easily as they vanished from the screen.

As much as I tried to ignore it, Danielle was the only person on my mind.

-

We were planning to leave at noon. My sister decided to wake me up at six. I couldn’t really complain. I had my alarm set for six-thirty. Damn that woman and the curse of punctuality she bestowed upon me.

Sleeping was peaceful. I rarely had dreams, so it was just a time where nothing could bother me. No worries. No memories. No apprehensions. No fears. No regrets. Not even Danielle could break the veil. She had plagued my thoughts for over a dozen hours after the video chat. It was only when I finally managed to drift away from consciousness that my mind went quiet. It was wonderful.

Unfortunately, I had to wake up.

From my extra-hot shower, to brushing my teeth, to double-checking that I had everything packed, Danielle resided rent-free in the forefront of my mind. Most of the images in my head weren’t even the precious memories of her nude selfies. They were there, absolutely, but the images of her naked form were drowned among the flash of her smile, the sound of her laugh, and the twinkle in her eyes.

This weekend was going to be a nightmare.

It only got worse when Danielle showed up a quarter after nine. I answered the door, and was surprised by Danielle jumping forward and embracing me in a tight hug. Even through her hoodie, I could feel the curves of her body pressing against mine. Her hair was loose and draping down to her shoulders like a shimmering curtain. It smelled like strawberries. Her face was cradled on my chest, and I heard her whisper in my ear.

“Hug me back, idiot.”

I hesitantly reciprocated, wrapping my arms around her lower back. I tried to ignore how wonderful it was. Danielle felt so good in my embrace. It seemed so natural to hold her like this, and I became painfully aware of the reality. We had been best friends for our entire lives, but I could probably count on one hand the number of times that we actually made physical contact with each other for anything other than a high-five or a friendly punch. When was the last time we hugged?

I couldn’t even begin to say. Maybe we never did.

We stayed like that for several seconds too long, breathing against each other in silence. Eventually, Danielle moved her head a tiny bit to look down the hall.

“Hey Noona!”

“Hello Danielle. Have you had breakfast?”

Danielle pulled away from the hug, slipped off her shoes, and casually began walking down the hall like nothing happened. “Not yet. I hope it’s okay if I raid your cupboards for some cereal.”

“You will not have cereal when I’m almost done making a true breakfast.”

“Oh, you spoil me too much.”

“Nonsense. You deserve only the best.?”

I snapped back to reality, still feeling the warmth of Danielle in my arms, and looked back to see a small, carry-on suitcase resting in the open doorframe. I pulled it inside and shut the door before following them to the kitchen.

My sister had returned to her self-appointed post, twisting and turning across the tile floor as she managed half a dozen things at once—she looked like a contestant in some extreme cooking show. I just kept my distance on the other side of the counter. It may have looked like she was drowning in her process, but in her own words, everyone else just got in her way.

“Need a hand?” Danielle asked with a smile.

“Nope, you are not to lift a finger.”

“Oh please, I can help.”

She turned around with an exasperated look. “Danielle, I will not let you do any work as a beloved guest in our house.”

“Come on.” Danielle grinned. “I want to help. We can take care of the eggs, at the very least. That way, you can make sure the other things don’t burn.”

“Fine. But don’t you dare try to help with the dishes!”

“Understood.” Danielle laughed.

What the fuck? Every time I ever tried to help with anything, she would practically tear my throat out, push me away, and then complain that I never did anything around the house. Yet somehow, with just a few simple words, Danielle managed to convince her to relinquish her iron chains.

I needed to take notes.

Danielle certainly got comfortable despite doing something as innocuous. She stood as close as she possibly could. Her body was pressed up into my side, which sent a frustratingly confusing shudder through my core. She was taking adorable little glances up into my eyes, and giggling every time I awkwardly looked away.

Take the leap.

Danielle’s words echoed through my mind. I instinctively knew that she wouldn’t mind if I did take a step up, since she was so... blunt, previously. I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood. I wasn’t quite sure, but I swore that I could see Danielle’s eyes sparkle when I wrapped an arm around her waist.

What was I doing? Feeling her pressed up against my side was doing terrible things to my heart. I wanted nothing more than to stay like that forever. Danielle felt so wonderful and soft. Not to mention, knowing that it was her I was pulling close—that was the forbidden cherry on top.

Despite the strain growing in my chest, I kept my hand curled around the side of her slender stomach. I even managed an awkward smile when Danielle swiped a butter-covered thumb on the tip of my nose.

I wanted to do it. I wanted it so badly that I could barely breathe. Her lips looked so inviting—like soft little pillows framing a smile that couldn’t have been more perfect. Resisting the urge to lean in for that wicked kiss made it feel like something in my chest was under tension so high it would snap.

How did I let this happen? Just yesterday I promised myself that I wouldn’t let her hurt me again. I wouldn’t let Danielle burrow her way into my chest and carve another hole that took years to heal.

Yet, at what was literally the very first opportunity for failure. So much for my willpower to resist the charm of a succubus. I knew this would only end in flames. The moment this act ended; I would be left with a vicious wound in the shape of her.

Despite that, I couldn’t bring myself to care about the consequences yet. That was something I would just have to deal with later. The glint in Danielle’s beautiful brown eyes was far too intoxicating.

I didn’t let go of her until the three of us were sitting down to eat. Even then, Danielle shifted her chair adjacent to mine. We sat so close we were practically wearing each other’s pants. Every time I caught a peek at my sister, she just gave a curious smile.

It only got more complicated from then on. Thankfully, she went upstairs to do her classic quadruple-check over every single thing she packed into her suitcase. Unfortunately, that left Danielle and I alone on the couch while we waited for our departure time. I desperately hoped that Danielle wouldn’t fixate on this weekend. Thankfully she seemed to stay her normal self, even if she was cuddled up into my side. It was such a casual display of affection that it almost made my heart flutter more than our hug when she entered the house. Unlike the hug, this lasted so much longer. There was nothing stopping Danielle from nesting into me as we scrolled through Netflix for anything that piqued our interest. As I expected, we ended up in the horror section.

“Exhuma?” I asked.

“Nah. We’re only gonna be able to get through like half a movie before we have to go. I just want something I won’t really get invested in.”

“The Conjuring?”

“That movie literally only gets interesting right when we would have to leave.”

“Fine. What would you like to watch?”

Danielle rolled her eyes. “I don’t know! I already downloaded all three seasons of Sweet Home onto my laptop so we could watch it in the car and hotel. Got a headphone splitter and everything.”

“We aren’t in the car or hotel yet, so you need to pick something.”

“Why do I need to pick? You have the remote.”

“Yeah, and you’ve already vetoed both of my suggestions. You’re the only one being stingy here, so you choose what you want to watch.”

“Oh jeez.” Danielle twisted her head up to glare at me. “If you don’t pick a movie, I’m just gonna start making out with you in order to keep myself entertained.”

“I—uh, what?”

“What? You don’t think that making out would be interesting? It looks like a lot of fun.” She grinned. “Plus, it would be a good way to convince your sister. She comes downstairs and I’m sitting on your lap while we’re using each other’s throats like straws.”

I could only tuck my chin with a blush, prompting a loud laugh from Danielle.

“Relax, I won’t. Unless you ask nicely, of course.”

“What’s so funny?” I heard my sister voice call out from around the corner of the living room, along with her approaching footsteps. Faster than I could react, Danielle grabbed both of my hands and pushed them into her sides just below her ribcage. She started twitching and giggling against me.

“Stop, stop! Please!”

It took far too long for me to realise that Danielle just provided both of us with a perfect cover. Still, I plastered my own mischievous smile and started scratching and tickling away. Her fake spasms and noises quickly became real just before my sister stepped into view. I pretended not to notice her presence and held tightly onto the squirming girl while assaulting her sides with quick and playful fingers. My sister remained quiet for several moments and watched on. I took the opportunity to really dig in and double down on my efforts. What were once gentle pushes to try and get me to stop my tickling quickly became genuine actions of desperation. Danielle’s years of cheerleader made it difficult to get any good grip on her. Still, her breathing became ragged and strained as her face turned bright red. Tears were even streaming down her face.

“You two having fun?” my sister finally spoke, and I lifted my head to meet her gaze. Beneath me, I could see Danielle do the same. I never stopped tickling, and she never stopped fighting.

“Ahh Help!”

“Hey, let her go.”

I ceased my assault and lifted my hands in surrender. Danielle used the opportunity to scramble away on the couch. She drew several heaving breaths before leaning forward and punching me in the shoulder.

“Ow! What’s that for?”

“Dummy! You know I’m ticklish.”

I didn’t, actually.

“You two better not be acting up in the car. Traffic on the highway is already going to be bad enough, I don’t need more distractions.”

Danielle gave a smile that could make a corpse blush. “Don’t worry noona. Unlike him, I can keep my hands to myself.”

“Uh huh.” Was her response.

“Are we leaving soon, or...” I had to break the silence.

“Relax, it’s only ten. We still have another hour before we need to leave. Do you mind if I sit here with you while we find something to watch?”

“Not at all. Sit down and relax all you like.”

Danielle giggled sweetly. “Now—you tickle me one more time and you don’t get any more cuddles.”

Before I could respond, she crawled back into her original position. If anything, she nuzzled up into my side even more than before. Most of her weight was on me, and her head was resting in the crook of my neck. Her hair was so soft. The smell of strawberries was almost overpowering. She grabbed my arm and curled it around her so that my hand was resting on her stomach. Her shirt had even ridden up slightly, allowing my pinky to sit upon the bare skin just below her belly button.

“You’ve decided what we’re gonna watch, right sweetie?”

I swear I’m gonna shoot her. After I shot myself, of course.

“Uh, yeah. Exhuma.”

My sister sighed. “Just know that we’re going to be leaving in an hour.”

“That’s okay.” Danielle smiled. “I prefer the first half anyway. That part’s more interesting.”

-

Thankfully, the car ride was a lot less traumatic. I was worried that spending a few hours in an enclosed space with both Danielle and my sister would be the end of the world. It seemed as though Danielle decided to throw me a bone and play nice for the first time in her life.

I simply focused on trying to enjoy the show. It was significantly harder than it had any right to be, because of the way she held my hand over the dividing cupholder in between us. For the entire ride. As in, the entire ride. From the instant that our doors closed to the moment we parked outside the hotel, she did not let go of my hand once. If she switched the laptop to the next episode, took a sip of her drink or grabbed a snack, she always used her right hand since her left was firmly grasping mine. I could only imagine how gross it must have felt for her.

When we finally parked, both Danielle and I used our free hands to take off the headphones. She smiled at me and her eyes glittered like pools of melted chocolate. Granted, I had never looked particularly closely at her eyes—that was probably to avoid the fluttering butterflies trapped in my stomach.

Even more so than when the two of us were buttering toast, the simple act of us holding hands and looking at each other made every single other sensation in the world fade away. Every neuron in my brain was firing warning signals, screaming at me to let go and turn away. To admit to that I was lying about the relationship. However, this ended would be way worse than if I just cut my losses and ran.

I leaned in and kissed her.

There was no word that could describe it. Perfect was too tacky. Amazing wasn’t quite right. Wonderful just didn’t do it the justice it deserved. What surprised me was just how simple it was. I never expected that kissing someone would be so... plain. There wasn’t any feeling about it that was special. It was just like kissing the back of my hand, if a little bit softer. What made the act so unbelievable was simply the knowledge of who I was doing it with. Knowing that it was Danielle pressed up against my lips in what was arguably the most intimate of acts. My very first experience of the sort, and it was with none other than the best friend I had been in love with for longer than I could remember. The one person on the planet that I couldn’t have under any circumstance. The one person who made it clear way back then that she wasn’t interested. Sure, she was very obvious that she was willing to take this act as far as she needed to, but as for what happened next? There was no telling what kind of aftermath would be present when the dust settled.

The forbidden fruit never tasted so sweet.

“Ahem.”

My sister cleared her throat from the front seat. I abruptly pulled away and opened my eyes. I watched Danielle do the same. Her irises flashed with something I had never seen before. For the first time in my life, I saw Danielle genuinely taken aback. She was uncertain. Just as quickly as it appeared, that shaken expression was wiped clean by her typical grin. Danielle leaned forward and returned her lips to mine. It was only for a moment, but that second kiss felt entirely different. With the first, I could tell that I had broken through whatever mask Danielle was wearing as part of this act. No doubt I had screwed all of this up. At least it was obvious that Danielle was going to hold out for the duration of the wedding. Unfortunately, I had no faith that things were going to be the same after this was all said and done.

Danielle flashed a pearly smile and let go of my hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’ll grab the bags.” I coughed. “How about you two get us checked in and we’ll meet by the elevator?”

With that, Danielle and my sister walked off. Danielle had her backpack and my sister her purse. Everything else was stuffed into the four suitcases in the trunk.

Five minutes later, I was awkwardly trying to shuffle the suitcases through the thin doorway while Danielle laughed and held the door open for me. Eventually squeezing our way inside the respective rooms. It was a very nice but simple room. Grey walls, two beds, a large TV and an attached bathroom. I hefted both of our bags onto one of the beds right before my sister appeared in the doorway.

“Alright, you two. We’ve got a dinner reservation at six, but we don’t need to leave for another two and a half hours. I assume that you two just want to hang out at the hotel until then?”

“Yeah.” Danielle answered for both of us. “We had to pause the episode halfway through. We were probably just gonna chill and keep watching.”

“Alright, I’m going to take a bit of a walk and see where everything is. I’ll be back before we need to leave for dinner.”

“Have fun.” I chirped.

“If you need anything, just call.”

“I will, Go enjoy your walk.” I said then shut the door.

“Dan, listen—about earlier.”

“What about it?”

“I shouldn’t have done that.” I shook my head.

“Why not? It’s all part of the act, right?”

“No— Yes, I mean...” I slumped down onto the bed and held my head in my hands. Danielle slowly walked forward and sat beside me. Her presence only made the feelings more complicated but I had to fight through it.

“You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to ruin what we have. I put us in this stupid position and I’m sorry. That—was too far.”

Danielle rolled her eyes. “I’ve basically been screaming at you to take this far. I sent you nudes. I could feel your dick pressing into me for the entirety of breakfast. If we’re pretending to be a couple, I don’t want to do it half way. I’ll fuck you right now if it makes you feel less awkward.”

“Hey!”

“What? Why are you freaked out?”

“I— it’s freaking me out—that you’re not freaking out.”

Danielle giggled. “Relax. Everything's gonna be fine.”

“Is it not weird to you?”

“Of course, it’s weird!” Danielle punched me in the arm hard enough that I winced. “We’ve been best friends since kindergarten!”

My shoulders slumped in defeat. Danielle leaned into me. “But being best friends means that we help each other with anything, no matter how weird it is. Granted, I figured that I would be helping you hide a body before I pretended to be your girlfriend.”

We sat there for several moments before Danielle twisted her head up and locked her eyes into mine. Sooner than I could do anything to resist, she pushed just a few inches vertically so that our lips met for the third time that morning. It wasn’t as quick as the kiss that she initiated before, but not nearly as passionate as the one that I gave her. It was a slow, simple, and sweet connection that only lasted for a moment. When Danielle pulled back, she did so with a smile and a flush of red in her cheeks.

“Just because we’re pretending doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it.”

“What about after the weekend—after we get back?”

Danielle almost, almost seemed disappointed. “That’s up to you. It’s also up to you to decide what we’re doing next.”

“What?” I raised an eyebrow.

“You have to decide if we’re gonna keep watching or if we’re gonna fuck.”

“Oh Danielle.”

She laughed at my horrified embarrassment—something that was happening far too often recently. “Red face, tucking in your chin, all signs are there. Like I said earlier—you are way too awkward about this whole thing, and that won’t convince anyone. If you tense up or lose your composure, then one kiss won’t be enough to convince your sister.”

I tried to find words, but my efforts were nullified by Danielle grabbing the hem of her sweater and lifting it. I was foolish enough to think that she was just getting a little too warm—that was until I saw the bare skin of her stomach get revealed as her shirt came with it.

“What are you doing?”

When she pulled both her shirt and hoodie off over her head, she shrugged. She was wearing a simple white bra but was already moving to unclasp the back.

“You’ve seen them before. What’s the big deal?”

She dropped her bra onto the bed, and I was greeted for the second time by the lovely sight of her shapely, supple breasts. This time was so much better because now they weren’t on my phone screen. They were right in front of me, rising and falling with each of her gentle breaths. The red on her face only deepened.

“Touch them.”

“I—uh, um... you s—”

Danielle sighed, grabbed my hands, and yanked them onto her breasts. Much like the kiss earlier, there wasn’t even really anything physically special about it. Her skin was deliciously soft and warm, like a smooth heated pillow. Her nipples pressed into my palms like rubbery little nubs. I could feel them getting harder under my touch. Really the only thing that made the act perfect was again, the thought of what it was and who I was doing it to. I had been kissing Danielle earlier, and now she was sitting topless beside me with my hands cupping her breasts. Tearing my gaze back up to her face, she was wearing the cockiest grin I’d ever seen.

“If this doesn’t make you less awkward, then I’m not sure if anything will. Do you like them?”

“Uh, yeah?” My confidence was slowly returning with the faith that this wasn’t going to completely crash and burn in front of my face. No amount of confidence was going to make my hands start moving. I held as still as a statue even as Danielle pulled her hands away and dropped them to her sides.

“They’re a little small, but I like them. They’re also not gonna break, so grow a pair and start squeezing.”

I gulped and nodded at her confirmation. I experimented with delicate, gentle probing from my fingers. The skin was soft and pliable under my touch—bending in the perfect way as it conformed to the new shape. Danielle sighed and smiled. I was locked there for several moments, unable to do anything but play with my friend’s boobs. She was probably looking at me. My gaze was fixed downwards.

“Alright,” said Danielle, “that’s enough.”

She stood up, pulling my hands from her chest. Before I could even begin to stammer, she reached down and worked at the button on her jeans.

“Take off your shirt.”

“Uh...” was all I could manage. Danielle finished with the button but made no further move towards lowering her pants. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest like she was waiting for something. Since the act had a double effect of hiding her breasts from view, it helped me come back to reality. Kind of.

“Take off your shirt, or I’ll put mine back on. Your choice.”

Why did this feel like a trap? Surely this was some kind of test, yet there was no way I wasn’t falling for the bait. I slowly reached my hands to the collar of my shirt and tugged to slide it off over my head. Danielle smiled. She lowered her hands, once again baring her breasts. Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her denim. She wasted no time before sliding her jeans down. Even as she bent over to push them off all the way, her soft eyes never left mine.

When she stood back up straight, she was left only in a pair of simple white panties. As expected from a girl who did several years of cheerleader, her legs were fantastic. Shapely and toned, the pale skin was perfectly smooth all the way from her thick thighs to her dainty toes.

“Same deal as before. Take off your pants and mine stay off, too.”

I was a bit more hesitant this time, but again, the bait was too good to resist. Soon, my jeans were cast to the side just like Danielle’s. Her eyes flicked down towards the fabric tented by my erection and she smiled.

“Now lie back against the headboard.”

I was confused, but didn’t dare ignore her instructions. I shifted from sitting on the edge of the bed to sitting against the wooden headboard, only taking a moment to move the pillows out of the way. Danielle turned around and grabbed something off of the other bed. My eyebrows raised even more when she walked back over while holding her laptop and our headphones.

“Scooch over, make some room.”

I did as she asked, and Danielle slid in beside me. She handed me the laptop for just a moment while she undid the blankets from their tightly made position and slid her bare legs underneath. She adjusted her pillow so that she was sitting up against it, slid right up into my side, and took the laptop again. I was so entranced by the way her mostly nude body felt up against mine and the way her small breasts jiggled with each small movement that I didn’t even notice she had opened up the paused episode until she was handing me my headphones.

“We’re gonna cuddle in our underwear and keep watching until it’s time for dinner, yeah?”

It wasn’t phrased like a question. It was a command that I hastily accepted. Danielle grinned, put on her headphones, and pressed ‘play’. I did the same but didn’t even have a chance to ponder where I should put my hands. Danielle decided that for me, too.

She grabbed my left arm and wrapped it around her back before placing my hand directly on her breast. When I hesitated, she chuckled and paused the episode mere moments after it started playing. Danielle turned her head towards me, grinned, and gave me a quick kiss that seemed laced with whatever devilish magic she possessed. I could barely even think when she pulled back and stared me in the eyes.

“Until the end of this weekend, I am your girlfriend. No pretending. No acts. If we keep being awkward, then this weekend will only end up as a nightmare for both of us.”

“You— don’t want to pretend?”

Danielle smirked, “If we were just pretending, then we wouldn’t be cuddling in our underwear. As far as I see it, this serves two purposes. One, it might just get you a little bit more comfortable with me. If you turn into a mannequin everytime I hold your hand, your sister is gonna see right through it. Two, it just makes this whole thing a lot simpler. I don’t have to worry about acting like your girlfriend whenever your sister is around if I am your girlfriend for this weekend. Screw the act. We’ll figure the rest of this out when we get back home. For now, let’s just do this and worry about making it through the next forty-eight hours.”

“I— uh, okay?”

“Good. Now remember when I said it feels nice having my tits played with?” Danielle winked

I took the hint. My fingers gently probed and massaged at the delightfully soft flesh like it was a warm stress ball. That was, if the stress ball had a steel ball bearing nipple on the front and a heartbeat from underneath that pounded almost as fast as mine. Danielle turned her gaze back towards the laptop, let out a content sigh, and settled into my side before pressing ‘play’ for the final time.

Oh, what had I gotten myself into?

-

Aside from a quick scramble to put back on our shirts when we heard my sister knock on the door, nothing of note happened all the way up until dinner. Well, I scrambled. I slipped my shirt and jeans back on as fast as I could. Danielle took her sweet time. I was ninety percent sure that my sister could see Danielle putting her bra back on through the open doorway. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that; on one hand, it was almost as embarrassing as my sister seeing her naked photos yesterday. On the other, it may have actively helped push the narrative that we were dating. After all, if we were only pretending to date, then why would we be rushing to put our clothes back on?

I only hoped that my sister didn’t notice the erection tenting my jeans. I knew Danielle saw it underneath the blanket the entire time we were watching, but surprisingly, she never acknowledged it. Her eyes would occasionally flick over, but nothing more. No scathing remarks, no witty jokes at my expense. She just left me alone, other than ensuring my hand continued to play with her breast throughout our session.

And oh boy, was that an experience. If it wasn’t for that, I might have actually gotten somewhat accustomed to the circumstance and let my arousal diminish. Yet every time my hand faltered even slightly; Danielle brought hers up to coax me into a continued tit massage. By the time that my sister knocked on the door, my dick was throbbing. It was even harder than the nipple drilling a hole into my palm. Based on the way that Danielle would occasionally shift ever-so-slightly, I could safely assume she was probably as turned on as I was.

Still, she never did a single thing more.

She was my girlfriend for the weekend. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did she genuinely despise the thought of us, but was going full-tilt on the act in a hope that it made it easier to deal with? I just despised the idea of forcing my best friend into a situation she didn’t want to be in.

However, she seemed to be genuinely enjoying some aspects of this, which only served to confuse me even more. If she was so uncomfortable with us acting like a couple, then why did her eyes sparkle so much when she kissed me before we got in the car? Why did she once again insist on holding my hand for the entire ride to the restaurant? Why did she sit so close to me in the booth and rest her head on my shoulder?

“Just because we’re not actually dating doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.”

“What about after the weekend—after we get back?”

“That’s up to you.”

Those words rattled around in my head like a handful of nails in a glass jar. They mixed with the ones from yesterday saying almost the exact same thing. Take the leap. Every image of Danielle frowning when I didn’t reciprocate her actions. Every time she smiled brightly when she took another step in our pretend relationship.

It wasn’t fair. I couldn’t even enjoy my burger. I was too busy trying not to let my inner turmoil show on my face. Well, that and fighting off Danielle’s constant attempts to steal my fries. The only thing that helped to alleviate the tension in my chest happened after dinner. The four of us walked from the restaurant to the falls, which were barely two blocks away.

As expected, Cheonjiyeon waterfalls were stunning. Under the darkening sky, they would have been harder to truly appreciate—if it weren’t for the coloured spotlights that illuminated every inch of the natural wonder. Reds, blues, oranges, greens, purples, yellows, and every other colour I could imagine was glittering through the rushing water and mist to create a shimmering rainbow curtain. One of my hands was held onto the steel railing at the edge of the observation deck. The other was also on the railing, but my fingers were intertwined with Danielle’s. Thankfully, the falls didn’t seem to be too busy tonight which left plenty of room for us to spread out and have a small semblance of privacy.

“I wasn’t expecting much, but that is gorgeous,” Danielle said. My response was automatic—leaking from my lips faster than I could catch it and clamp down.

“Not as much as you.”

Danielle twisted her head to look at me with a raised eyebrow. I could see myself wince in the reflection of her doe-like eyes.

“I’m sorry, was that supposed to be a pick-up line?”

I had to quickly weigh the pros and cons of both possible answers before selecting one. “Yes?”

Danielle grinned. “So cheesy, but I’ll give you some points for effort. C minus.”

“Only a C?”

“C minus,” she corrected.

“I’d like to see you do better.” I immediately discovered my mistake when Danielle’s grin softened until her lips were just barely touching each other. She let go of my hand and raised her fingers to trace gently against my cheek. Once she cupped my face in her hand, she pulled me in. There was no tongue action, no lip biting, or anything else that I figured would be present in a make out session, but this also was not one of the few chaste kisses we had shared throughout the day. Instead, this one was identical to the one I gave her in the car before we entered the hotel in every way except one; this time, she was the initiator.

It was a long, slow, passionate, and powerful connection that made me feel as if I was moments away from total heart failure. I didn’t even notice that we turned to face each other until my hands were on her hips. The kiss was eventually broken by Danielle pulling her lips back a fraction of a centimetre. While our foreheads were still touching, and her hand still on my cheek, I watched her big, beautiful brown eyes blink twice.

“I can’t seem to find my bed anywhere. Can I share yours tonight?”

“I— uh...”

“Score.” She wrapped both arms around my neck with a quiet laugh. I could feel her breath on my face—soft, warm, and smelling faintly of her dinner. “That’s how it’s done.”

“You cheated.”

“Why, because I kissed you?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you gonna do about it? Spank me for being a bad girl?” She lifted the corner of her lip in a cocky challenge. I shook my head, keeping our foreheads pressed together.

“Nah. I’ll just have to cheat, too.”

Our lips met once more, but something told me that I ended up playing right into Danielle’s hands. Perhaps it was the way her arms tightened around my neck to pull our mouths together. It might have been the way she stepped into me so that her chest was pressed into mine. Or it might have been the fact that I could feel her smiling against my lips when I wrapped my hands around her waist. When she tapped her tongue against our connection, that made her earlier words crystal clear.

Until the end of this weekend, I am your girlfriend.

I realized she wasn’t lying. For all intents and purposes, Danielle was my legitimate girlfriend for the next forty-eight hours. When it inevitably changed things between us, good or bad, it would happen after we got back. I wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that. There was no coming back from something like this. Even if we somehow managed to stay friends, I don’t think my heart would never be able to accept it.

Two days of guaranteed sunshine. Two days to experience the forbidden fruit before punishment or bliss. Two days was enough.

I opened my mouth and let my tongue meet hers. The evening November air was chilly, but there was no chance of it dimming the heat that pulsed between us. Inside of our locked lips, our tongues danced a moist duet—a challenge to see who would claim more of the other. For every centimetre I delved into Danielle’s mouth, she did the same with mine. The sensation was odd beyond words. Once again, it was special only for the knowledge of what it was and who I was doing it with. There was something deliciously naughty about licking the inside of someone else’s mouth—sharing saliva and drinking their flavour. Danielle was almost taste like a lollipop, if you will—as I lavished in the taste of her mouth. I could even catch a hint whatever it was she had during dinner. It was clear that neither of us really knew the ‘proper’ way to use tongue while kissing, but neither of us cared.

I don’t know how long we spent like that—making out with the roaring falls as our backdrop. It might have just been seconds; it might have been minutes. It felt like hours, but also felt instantaneous. When Danielle pulled her tongue from the front lines of the battlefield, her lips only lingered for a moment upon mine before breaking free. When my eyes opened, they were greeted by the rolling waves of brown mixed with sparkles that stared back at me. We were both panting, holding each other so close that we may as well have been inside of each other’s hoodies. The smile on her face and red flushing her cheeks almost made it look like she was drunk. I didn’t forget my promise, though.

“You must be one hell of a thief, because you stole my heart right from my chest.”

I grinned. She groaned. “God, that was worse than the first one.”

“Do I get extra points for that?”

“... B plus.”

“I’ll take it.”

-

The walk back to the car was silent aside from the general noise of the city. Danielle was leaning her head on my shoulder with a giddy smile on her lips. The car ride was equally silent. There was simply nothing to be said. Not for the walk back into the hotel lobby. Not during the elevator ride up to the fourth floor. Not during the short stroll down the hall to our rooms. The quiet was only broken when I was tapping the key card against the lock to the room.

���I’ll come over a quarter after eight to help Danielle with her dress and makeup, so make sure you two are up, showered, and ready by then.”

I nodded. “I already have my alarm set for seven. Don’t worry.”

When I shut the door behind us and turned around, Danielle had already kicked off her shoes and was pulling off her hoodie. Her shirt rode up a little in the process to show off her perfect skin, but that didn’t matter since it was the next article of clothing to go. I nudged my own shoes off, slipped out of my sweater, and emptied the contents of my pockets onto the nightstand as Danielle did the same.

“What now?”

Danielle looked up from where she was undoing the button on her pants. “We’re gonna put on our pajamas, get into bed, and keep watching our show until we pass out.”

“We?” I gave a grin that Danielle matched and then some.

“I wasn’t asking. You’re a very comfortable pillow, after all.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

Danielle pushed down her pants, once again revealing her long, athletic legs. Noticing how I was staring, Danielle chuckled and tossed her jeans at me. I feigned surprise.

“What was that for?”

“I’m just trying to get changed into something more comfortable and you’re standing there ogling me, you pervert.” She was smirking with every word.

“Can you blame me?”

With precision, Danielle reached behind herself and unclasped her bra. Despite having literally fondled them for almost two hours earlier, I felt a vein in my forehead pulse at the sight of her beautiful breasts.

“Nah, I know I’m hot. Just know that this show is only temporary.”

Danielle tossed her bra onto the other bed and reached down to the waistline of her panties. My eyes went wide at the implication. Danielle simply grinned and teased the hem of the fabric with her fingers for a few moments. Cloth was lowered millimetre by lustful millimetre. I had already seen the delicate present underneath through the pictures she had sent yesterday, but there was no hope of me not being enraptured by the sight.

“Are you really not going to give me any privacy?” The question leaked out through her pearly teeth. A part of me hesitated. The rest of me answered with a smirk.

“Nope.”

Danielle rolled her eyes, turned around, and slid her fingers under the waistband before gently pulling it downwards. The fabric graciously revealed the flawless globes of her ass and I stopped breathing. Just like with her breasts, the real thing was so much better than a picture. Even so, the sight only got better as Danielle folded at the waist, bending over in a greatly exaggerated manner as she tugged her underwear down. Slowly. The way she was bent let me see the split of her flowery folds peeking out from her thighs as if it were giving me a friendly wave. It wagged side to side slightly as she lifted each leg a few inches to take off her socks. When she lifted back up, she did so with her panties and socks held in one outstretched hand before letting them drop onto the bed next to her bra.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Very much.”

“Hmph.” Danielle took a step closer to the storage bed and unzipped her suitcase. I took appreciation in every inch of her lovely naked body. The red in her cheeks was bright, but her smile was brighter. She pulled free a pair of white pajama pants and a black tank top. I drank deep in the sight for the few remaining seconds before Danielle stepped into her bottoms. When she pulled on the tank top, I could see the two-pointed tips of her nipples poking against the fabric. Then she looked up with a smile so wicked it sent a chill through my chest.

“Your turn. Get changed.”

Whatever confidence I had was gone. “Uh, what?”

“You got your show, now I get mine. Take it off. Nice and slow, please.”

If I had known I was walking right into a trap, I would have been much more cautious. Danielle sat down on the bed, crossed her legs, and waited. I gulped. My shirt was first, which was most of the way off my head before Danielle made a noise like a buzzer. “Slower, no need to rush.”

I paused; head still covered by the almost-free shirt. I could only give an audible, muffled sigh as I resumed at a slower pace. I dragged the fabric off entirely, leaving my chest When I grabbed a new shirt from my own suitcase, Danielle buzzed again.

“Nuh-uh. All of it off, then you can get dressed.”

“All of it?”

She grinned. “If I’m your girlfriend for this weekend, that also means you’re my boyfriend. Everything that I do for you, you do for me.”

There I was, stuck in the very middle of the trap she had set. There was only one way out. I set the shirt back down and undid the button on my jeans. We had cuddled while I was in nothing but my boxers earlier, but it was the thought of what came next that made my chest clench. I pulled down the denim, hesitating just enough to take them off at a moderate speed instead of fast. Thankfully, Danielle didn’t interject. She didn’t say anything when I took off my socks, either. Unfortunately, she just raised her eyebrows at me when I looked back at her.

“Keep going.”

The face of that double-standard was rearing its ugly head. It was lovely to see Danielle’s extra-special bits. Now that I had to show her mine? Any hint of an erection that may have begun forming at Danielle’s strip show had faded. Still, I had one way forward. I grabbed the hem of my boxers, looked Danielle in the eyes, and tugged them to my ankles. When I stood up, I had to force my hands to my side so that they weren’t covering my manhood.

“Lovely.” said Danielle.

Somehow, I managed a weak smile of my own, then grabbed a pair of grey pajama pants from my own suitcase. I didn’t go commando very often, even if I was sleeping, but the circumstances made it obvious that tonight would be an exception of Danielle’s choosing. When the bottoms were pulled back up around my hips, I still felt oddly vulnerable. Just the way Danielle’s eyes occasionally flicked down as I pulled on a shirt let me know that she approved. When I was clothed again, she shifted across the mattress and rested her back against the headrest in a position almost identical to how she was earlier when we cuddled. Danielle, still with a cheeky grin, then went and patted the open spot next to her.

“Just a moment.”

I reached back into my suitcase, grabbed a long cord that was tucked underneath everything else, then walked over to the large TV.

“I brought a connector specifically for this. We can watch on the big screen and just have the laptop on the nightstand.”

“And you didn’t bring this up before dinner... why?”

I gave the most exasperated glance to Danielle that I could manage. “I’m sure you can understand that I was a little bit distracted earlier.”

“I couldn’t imagine why.”

“Ha ha. Plug that in.”

I walked back to the bed, passed Danielle the other end of the connection cord, and grabbed the remote. It took no more than two minutes to get everything set up properly. By the time Danielle hit ‘play’ she was already snuggled into my side, and my arm was wrapped around her waist. Unlike before, my hand was not clasped onto her breast. Now, it just resided on the side of her stomach. It was intimate in a way that was entirely innocent F just holding her close for no reason other than to enjoy her company.

Danielle rubbed her hand across my stomach. Butterflies fluttered around her fingertips.

“I think you’d look cute in a dress.”

“I better, because I’d be walking down the aisle like a model,” I said.

Danielle smiled then lifted her head. She only glanced at my lips for a moment before moving in. I met her halfway. When we finally pulled apart, Danielle’s eyes were distant.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head for a moment, hesitated, then sighed in defeated acceptance. “I’m horny.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Danielle rolled her eyes and gave a red-faced smile. “Hey, if you had your tit being played with for two hours and then had to leave for dinner, you’d be pretty uncomfortable too.”

“Don’t forget that it was your idea. I was the one playing with it anyway, so let it be known you weren’t alone in your discomfort.”

Once again, Danielle hesitated. That in of itself was a spectacle to witness. She was always so confident, so having her visibly figure out her own thoughts was almost concerning. Even the way she fought to meet my eyes was adorable.

“Do you want to fix that?”

Just the way she asked, that sent shivers down my spine. Before I could provide an answer, Danielle’s hand, the one resting on my stomach, drifted downward. Her pinky touched the waistband of my pajama pants and stopped. Whether she was asking permission or building up courage, I would probably never know. Regardless, the shortness in my breath meant that I couldn’t stop her even if I wanted to.

Danielle gently slid her fingers underneath the stretchy waistband, allowing her skin to vanish from sight. From that point, I could only feel her creeping closer, millimetre by millimetre, fingernails lightly dragging against my pelvis. I wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or not that she seemed to stop hesitating. Her fingers traced over my rapidly-hardening member. They were so soft and warm, like my friend down below was getting a lovely hug as she wrapped her fingers around it.

“Someone’s waking up.” Even her confident smile had returned.

Whatever that brief moment of vulnerability was, it was gone. Maybe she was expecting me to crumble under her assault. Maybe she was expecting an attempt at a witty comeback. Based on the way she gasped lightly, I don’t think she was entirely prepared for me to lift my own hand and place it directly atop her pelvic bone. Her skin was hot to the touch, even through her pajamas.

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. The flutter in her eyes and the way she gave a slow, tentative stroke to my shaft spoke for her. I pulled my fingers back and dug them under the waistband. My chest tightened at the feel of her sweltering skin. I could tell that had it not been for the very light pubic stubble, it would have been smoother than glass.

Danielle’s grip around me slowly tightened as my fingers approached the prize. When I slid my middle finger down the split of her sex, both of us let out a shaky breath. She wasn’t kidding that she was horny. She was soaked. Running a finger across her sopping, swollen folds—my digit would be drier if I dunked it in a glass of water. I felt my lower appendage pulse in Danielle’s hand, and I know she felt it too. Just knowing how unreasonably aroused she was eradicated any hope of not being at full mast.

When we locked eyes again, that was when we started moving. Danielle focused on keeping a gentle but firm grip as she eased into a slow, leisurely pace. I matched her own speed while dragging a pair of fingers across the surface of her lower lips. I was given all the permission I needed the moment Danielle shifted her hips upwards just slightly, pressing my hand into her.

“We—ungh, we should take off our pants so we don’t ruin them.”

“That’s an idea.”

I could feel both of our hesitations when it came to removing our hands from the other’s genitals, but I relinquished my gentle cupping of her delicate when she retracted her hand from mine. Danielle instantly moved her hands to the waistband of her pajamas to begin pulling them down. I rested a hand on top of hers to stop her. She looked confused for only a moment. That confused faded the second that I sat up from the headboard, swivelled around the bed, and planted myself right beside her legs while locking eyes.

Even when my hands replaced hers and began tugging down the fabric. The sheer eroticism of slowly, slowly pulling down someone else’s pants while staring into their lust-addled eyes was mystifying. I could never have been more aroused in my life.

Not even when Danielle lifted her legs up, bringing her knees closer to her chest so I could pull the pajamas off further. Not even when the cloth was finally free from her dainty toes and her lower half was left bare. Not even when her succulent, smooth legs parted to either side so that I was kneeling before the prize so brazenly displayed to me.

It was beautiful. Almost as red as the flush in her cheeks, and just shy of being as pretty as the girl it was attached to. The arousal was extremely obvious. I could see that arousal dripping onto the bedsheets. Fleshy folds were almost throbbing outwards, opening up her core like a meaty flower. This time, I could both watch and feel her entire body shiver when I returned one hand atop her lovely mound.

I probably should have been focusing on the task at hand. I should have had my gaze fixated on her sopping slit during my task of bringing my friend to orgasm. I couldn’t. For some reason, the instant that my hand was in the correct place atop her bare pussy, my eyes moved back upwards to stare at her face. I could see her staring right back. Her mouth was slightly agape, twitching occasionally in pleasure or letting out little moans as my fingers began to experiment.

I didn’t know what I was doing. As much as my goal was to pleasure Danielle, an equal part was seeking to learn. To learn in what way I could make her move. When I dragged my middle finger down the entire length of her slit, she shuddered. Spreading her folds with my thumb and pinky made the lips on her face part in a similar fashion. I traced my fingers along the edge of the entrance until I reached a defined nub near the top of her mound.

Danielle’s legs twitched inwards to close around either side of my body and a gasp was torn into her lungs. Despite all of that, our eyes never left each other’s. Fudge and blueberries that glittered through a haze of arousal. I opted to ignore her clit for now—I knew that it could often be too sensitive, at the very least.

Instead, the fingers that were probing around the edge of her entrance decided to begin their delving expedition. A heavy, ragged breath shuddered from Danielle’s lips when my index and middle finger slipped down to the second knuckle. I had been planning on taking it relatively slow and only going to my first knuckle, but the way that her hips bucked downwards into me caused my hand to go deeper. Given that knowledge, I went for broke and slid them the rest of the way in.

I held still for several moments. Part of it was to let her get accustomed to my fingers being inside of her precious vault. The rest of it was so I could get accustomed to it. She was squeezing me from all directions like a warm, fleshy, tight hug around my fingers. Once again, the naughtiness of the action was made relevant simply by the knowledge that my fingers were inside of my best friend.

My best friend, who could offer no words while gazing into my eyes. All she could do was nod for me to start moving.

I pulled my hand back until I could see the base of my fingernails before slowly sending it forward again as far as it could go. My unused fingers were curled against my palm, pressed in between my own skin and the silken wetness of Danielle’s pussy when I hilted against her a second time. And then a third. And a fourth.

I began a moderate but firm pace as I sawed to and for inside of my friend. I was thankful for her lustful grunts and moans; they were confirmation that I was doing an adequate job. Well, that and the fact that her legs were instinctively trying to clamp closed every time she twitched. All I could do was scooch myself forward and lean in so that my torso blocked her unintentional attempts to interrupt my administrations. Her legs were practically resting on my shoulders when I brought my other, unused hand up and started rubbing it along the outside of her thigh.

Danielle’s own hands were not left alone either. In my peripherals, I could see that one of them was now clamped overtop her shirt and was groping roughly at her breasts. I couldn’t see the other, but I could certainly feel it brush against my own as she started to rub her exposed folds. I wasn’t even going to try and pretend that I knew all the best ways to bring about pleasure to a woman, so her assistance was appreciated. After all, who would know how to best bring Danielle to orgasm than herself? She would know where to touch, where to prod, what speed to move, and how hard to press. All I could do was keep my fingers thrusting in and out of her snatch as a stimulating medium while Danielle did everything she needed to. Still, I just wanted to make sure.

“What do you need me to do?”

Danielle almost sounded like she was choking on her tongue as she spit out a response. “Boobs! Pl- hnngh- please!”

That was everything I needed. My hand resting on her thigh instead moved forward. I had to lean in a little bit further so that I could reach her free breast. I was about to begin fondling her through her tank top like she was doing already, but Danielle paused for a brief moment to pull the hem of her shirt up to her armpits. Once her tits were revealed, Danielle continued to roughly grope at herself.

She was already breathing heavily, chest heaving and flushed with red, while the rest of her body was shuddering against me. If that didn’t mean she was close, then nothing would. I just kept my eyes locked onto hers while I firmly pressed my free hand into her breast and began squeezing with far more intensity than when we were cuddling before. Danielle squealed when I pressed my thumb into her nipple—a squeal that turned into a throaty, guttural groan as I moved it almost like a joystick.

For many blissful seconds, Danielle and I were locked in our embrace. One hand each on one of her breasts, and our other both crowding for space at her desperate flower. Her legs up on my shoulders, and both our eyes locked by ethereal chains of lust onto the other’s.

It was nothing short of beautiful to watch Danielle crest the peak of pleasure. Sure, she broke eye contact, but that was because her head pressed back against the headboard and tilted to the ceiling as she gave a loud, strained cry. That just meant that my own gaze was now free to look over the many aspects of her orgasm and how it affected her perfect body.

Her chest turned a shade of scarlet that I wasn’t even sure was possible with caramel skin like hers. The delicate hand on her breast was clenched with such visible tightness I thought she was going to rip her own nipple right off. The other pressing against mine for space in her sodden sex was bearing down on her clit, and I could feel her lock her ankles together behind my back. Through it all, her body shook and quivered like a waterbed in an earthquake.

Her orgasm seemed to go on for hours, but it was probably only a handful of seconds. I didn’t dare to stop moving. My hands only faltered when the hand violating her clit twisted around and clamped onto my wrist to hold still and stop my continued thrusting. Her face was still pointed towards the ceiling for many more long, strenuous breaths before her gaze finally tilted downwards to meet mine.

Her hair was a ragged mess, dangling around her pretty face. Her cheeks were bright red, and there was even a line of moisture leaking down her chin from where she might have been drooling.

She had never been more beautiful.

The post-orgasmic panting lasted for a few moments longer before I started to see the edges of her lips curl upwards. In less time than it took to blink, a full smile was plastered from cheek to cheek and Danielle was starting to giggle. I couldn’t help it. A grin broke onto my own face and I joined in her chuckling.

“That was —wow!” Danielle breathed. “That’s so much better with someone else helping me!”

Wait, did that mean…

I didn’t get a chance to finish comprehending the thought before Danielle let go of my wrist, unlocked her legs from my back, and spread her legs to drop them back to the bed. “Alright, Your turn.”

“Uh, what?”

“You help me, and I’ll help you. Now swap places.”

Right. I guess the original plan was to bring each other to completion, and then I got a bit carried away. Frankly, I had forgotten all about myself during that entire sequence. It was just too much fun to play with Danielle’s special bits.

I could only nod meekly and swallow as the two of us pivoted around each other. When my back was up against the headboard the same way Danielle had been moments before, I felt Danielle’s hands tugging at the waistband of my pajamas. All I could do was lift my hips and let her strip me. Only when my pants were off and my erection was standing proud and swollen did Danielle move in between my legs. I was caught off guard when she didn’t keep a position on her knees like I did.

Instead, Danielle sat right on the bed and wrapped her legs overtop mine. That not only served as a way to keep my own legs open, but spread her own at the same time to give me a lovely view of her flower once more. A view that lasted a mere moment before she scooched forwards until our nethers pressed into each other.

Oh god.

I could feel Danielle’s lower lips kissing up against my balls while my shaft pulsed against her stomach. This position was so much more intimate than what I had taken. When Danielle wrapped one hand around my shaft and began stroking slowly, my mouth went dry. Her fingers felt indescribable clutching to my erection. She slid from the very base all the way to the tip, lingering for a moment before going all the way back down to repeat the process. It was not a long distance for her hand to travel, but every inch felt amazing regardless.

Until she released me suddenly. However, I didn’t dare to question what Danielle was doing, especially not when she squeezed her hand into the gap between our nethers. Her knuckles were brushing up against my balls, and it took me far longer than it should have to realise what it was that she was doing. It was only when she stopped fingering herself and brought her hand back up to clasp around my member when I finally fit the pieces together.

Danielle was going to jerk me off using her own juices as lube.

The amount of blood that rushed to my cock left me light-headed. I felt like I was going to burst. She probably wouldn’t have even needed to lubricate herself, since precum was all but drooling from me at that point. Still, every time her hand glided across my skin towards the head, she swept a thumb across the tip to gather my fluid and add it to the glistening sheen now covering my member. I was transfixed—watching her hand move up and down while her other was braced behind her on the bed.

“Hey, eyes up here.”

I reactively glanced from Danielle’s scolding, and fell right into the trap. It was then that I realised what she wanted. I had maintained eye contact with her for the entire time I brought her to climax, and it seemed she wanted to do the same with me. I also realised that it was an entirely different sensation to be on the receiving end. To stare so deeply into Danielle’s soul while feeling her hand stroke my throbbing shaft was indescribable. She wore her classic grin, maintaining our staring contest even while she leaned back slightly and pressed her mound even further into my crotch.

And she kept going. One hand braced on the bed, one hand rapidly increasing the pace as it worked to hell out of me, and even her pelvis began to grind up across the base of my cock. I could feel her sodden lips drooling against me as she half-scissored-half-masturbated me. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I resorted to clutching onto her calves, holding on like a fucking lifeline as Danielle went about her business.

There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I could last like that. I doubt I even made it half the time that Danielle did under my administrations. In fact, I had a feeling I didn’t break a minute. I couldn’t even accuse Danielle of ‘cheating’. All I could do was groan and look ahead in the beautiful prison of her eyes while my entire abdomen clenched around my orgasm like a vice.

I felt like I was erupting. My cock throbbed once, twice, and then every subsequent pulse brought with it a stream of sticky cream that sprayed against Danielle’s bare stomach. She kept stroking, kept grinding, and kept staring. I could only pulse in her hand as spurt after spurt of cum plastered onto her skin. It was the best orgasm of my life—that was for damned sure. Even after my balls felt like they were boiling and my shaft refused to spit out any more liquid, I continued to throb with the throes of my climax.

White lines were splattered across Danielle’s smooth stomach, pooling down into her cute little belly button. Her hand was covered in cum, making lewd noises and a slimy mess of my cock as she continued to slowly stroke up and down.

“Feel better?”

I struggled to find words. “Oh... yeah. You?”

“Mhmm.” She smiled. “Now I can definitely focus on the show.”

I noticed that when she rolled down her tank top back into position, she did so without bothering to do anything about the cum staining her stomach. I also noticed that when she crawled back into our cuddling position from before, she made no move to grab our pajama pants. Finally, I noticed that she was pressed up into my side even more so than usual, with one of her naked legs curled over mine.

Then she pressed ‘play’ and the sounds of the show returned.

-

Waking up beside her was such a weird feeling; it didn't matter that butterflies were swarming my stomach the entire time we were cuddling once my eyes were closed; however, morning had arrived, and her eyes did not open until I shook her awake. Danielle slept through the alarm, she had never slept through her alarm.

-

I looked up as I heard the electronic lock click open and my sister walk back in, her makeup bag trailing behind her.

“That was fast.” I said. My sister nodded.

“Danielle’s dress was simple enough as is, and with a face like hers, it’s really easy to put too much makeup. She has such a natural beauty that all you need is a few basics to help draw it out. You can’t improve something that’s already perfect.”

Of course, I didn’t hear a single word that my sister had said. That was because the entire world went silent when Danielle walked through the doorway.

The first thing I noticed were her eyes, but that was a given. This morning, they had looked so conflicted. She kept her cocky grin, but I would catch more than a few glimpses. In my peripherals, when she thought I wasn’t looking, her smile would fade. The glimmer in her eyes dimmed. She would look so distant. All of it just proved that last night was a mistake. Even though she was the one who initiated, I made the fuck-up and ruined everything. Like her analogy, she really was just finding the fastest and easiest way to eat the steaming shit that was this weekend.

Right now, there was zero hint of that trepidation. Her mahogany irises gleamed with confidence as they met mine with a smile. The corners of her eyes were accentuated just the tiniest amount with a shaded seam that solidified the line where it met the lightly darkened skin of her face. When she blinked, her eyelids were dusted in a way that made her cocoa tone a shade lighter—a visual disparity that only lasted a moment yet drew my gaze right back to her eyes when they reopened.

Somehow, her adorableness seemed to be even more prominent. The light pinkish hue adorned her cheeks, trailing down to lips that were just a single shade lighter than normal. In fact, the lipstick was so incredibly close to her own natural tone that I would never have been able to tell the difference if we hadn’t spent so much time kissing yesterday.

Her hair was loose like it normally was, but the natural curls seemed less like she always has never bothered to manage. Now, her luscious locks swept around her face like an onyx curtain, framing the perfect picture until they came to rest just atop her shoulders. It was shaggy, like a wolf cut, but in such a defined and regal way that it could only have been done deliberately. I could faintly see a twinkling of metal through her hair. When black strands shifted, they revealed tiny earrings that were barely more than the studs she rarely wore, but these ones sparkled like diamonds.

Overall, she looked exactly the same, but just... more. Everything that I thought was beautiful about her, which was everything, was simply accentuated by that small amount. Nothing was covered. Nothing was hidden. It was just Danielle in every way that mattered but with an added air of perfection and formality that had not been present so far.

Her dress was one that I had never seen her wear before. That wasn’t much of a surprise, since I had never seen Danielle wear any dress, period. Not even for prom. She had shown up in her hoodie and jeans, loaded a huge container to the brim with anything she could scrounge up from the buffet, stole one of the bottles of soda, then went home. She hadn’t even bought a ticket. Not that I minded —I had been the one driving the getaway car.

Today though, Danielle was no longer adorned in her casual attire. Now it was a white dress that was plain to the eye, but no less phenomenal. It wrapped around her collarbone into a very, very shallow v-neck, with sleeves that went to her elbows. It was taught around her chest and stomach, past her waist, and all the way to the tops of her hips where it opened up just a little into a simple skirt that ended level with her knees.

The only particularly eye-catching parts of her outfit was an almost-wire-thin chain of silver hanging around her neck, perhaps an inch above the collar of her dress, off of which hung a small pendant shaped like a crescent moon. Partnered with that was a bracelet on her right wrist of an almost-identical design, but set with multiple dangling stars instead of a moon, each of which was glittering as they shifted in the light.

She had on a pair of small black socks, but it was not any form of dress shoes covering her feet. Instead, they were her normal, moderately-weathered, black canvas sneakers. Still, it didn’t take anything away from the image of beauty in front of me. If anything, it only made sure to confirm that this was not a different person.

I didn’t realise my jaw was on the floor until Danielle had walked forward and picked it up to stick it back in place.

“Make sure you get a good look, because I’m never wearing this again.” She smirked through every word. My sister shook her head with a smile.

“If that was the case, you could have at least worn heels.” said my sister.

“I’d rather step into the middle of an ant nest.” Danielle said.

Her face was beaming. She seemed so hesitant this morning, but I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. I thought that having her be my ‘girlfriend’ for two days would have been easy after our agreement, but last night threw a Danielle-sized wrench into everything. It wasn’t even what we did to each other that made my heart so weak—it was just the memory of the way she looked at me. Obviously, what happened had affected her just as much, if not more. She had tried to play it off, and I was never good at reading her tells, but this morning was sloppy at best.

All of that was completely gone—wiped off the face of the planet. Her smiling, confident mask was back up in full force. I had absolutely no clue whether it was a good thing or not that I couldn’t figure out what Danielle was thinking. I couldn’t even tell if the way she leaned forward and kissed my chin was genuine, like our previous cuddling, or whether it was just a fabrication of the act. Danielle lifted either end of the tie dangling from my shoulders.

“I see you are going for a ‘bachelor party’ look—like a secret agent.”

“Oh, shut up.”

-

Fitting perfectly into my sister scheduled plan. The parking lot was almost empty, which none of us were surprised about. Still, there were a few cars, and only a couple more faces walking around the venue. Most of it was an outdoor garden of sorts that wrapped around a large central building that obviously served as a large-scale dining room. Almost everyone seemed to be outside at the moment, and my sister seemed to enjoy pointing out family members who were present and explaining who they were. She was talking to them mostly, but I made sure to listen in. It had been years since I last saw any of my extended family, and the chances of me remembering any more than a handful were damn near non-existent.

-

Every word echoed in the battle to try and understand her intentions. Every action or sentence leading me to believe she wanted this was drowned out by an equal number of statements implying the opposite. Danielle had never been a complicated person, but now, it felt different. We weren’t alone. Anything she did now could just as easily be meant to upkeep the lie in front of everyone else. The only time I would be able to get even a hint of more information would be when we returned to the hotel room.

For now, I just had to made sure my heart could hold out for that long.

What made everything so much worse was the fact that it was almost normal. When the ceremony ended and the party continued, it no longer felt like I was trying to keep up an act. Everything just seemed like I was enjoying a very-formal-yet-equally-fun house party beside my best friend. The only difference, and the only thing making the entire situation a strain was the fact that Danielle never left my side for any reason other than to go to the washroom. She had her hand held in mine almost all the time, which prevented me from even attempting to pretend that she was just a friend. Every passing moment, her touch was dragging me further and further underwater. I was drowning.

In all seriousness, she was still easily noticeable. Not many of the women present were wearing white dresses like hers, and absolutely nobody else was sitting down at a table in the corner while using a butter knife to carve a penis into the side of a large candle. I didn’t even need to see it—Danielle left unsupervised in a fancy place like this? She was probably going to start carving a vagina into the table next.

She smiled when I sat down beside her but did not stop her work.

“Wow, that’s quite generous with the length.”

“Not really.”

“If he’s that long limp, how big do you think he gets when he’s hard?”

“He is hard.” Danielle corrected. I could only wince.

“Really? With that kind of curve on it?”

“Mhm.” She nodded.

She brushed a lock of hair behind one ear. Before she could turn her attention back to her elegant artwork, I leaned in. “Can I talk to you for a minute? Somewhere quieter?”

Her eyes practically twinkled. “Ooh, pulling me away somewhere private? We’ll just need to be careful—your sister might get mad if we smudge my makeup.”

“I think she’ll be more upset at what I’m gonna do to your dress.” I joked. “Come on.”

I led her by the hand outside of the building, back towards the swinging bench we had practically claimed earlier. Thankfully, there was still nobody here.

“You know, I don’t think the swing can survive if you rail me on it. Even if it does, can you imagine the splinters?”

“Ha, ha.” I sat. Danielle followed suit, turning so that she was facing me with one leg crossed over the other. Her lips instantly curled into a smile when I leaned forward to press them against my own. It was a quick, chaste connection that lasted but a moment, followed by a second similar kiss, and then a third. The fourth lingered for a few seconds longer before we both pulled back just enough that we were breathing the same air. My chest was pounding, but I had to do this.

“Danielle, I can’t do this anymore.”

The look on her face melted so quickly it almost shattered my heart. “What?”

“This act.” I clarified quickly. “You know I like you since forever.”

“Oh, I know you do.”

“Danielle please, don’t play dumb.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“What I mean… what if I say I want you—for real?

She looked genuinely taken aback. Her response was silence. It lasted for several moments before a small voice leaked from her lips. “So do I.”

“You do?”

When she gave the tiniest nod, I swear my heart could have exploded. However, that feeling shrivelled when she spoke again. “I just don’t know if we should.”

“What? Why?”

She sighed, which I knew was a sign that she was about to hit me with some cold, hard facts. “Nine in ten relationships fail. If we try this and it doesn’t work out...”

“I don’t want that either, and that’s also part of what I wanted to say. I—” The words were surprisingly difficult to get out. “—I want to be in a real relationship with you, but I don’t want it to replace what we had. I like having you as my best friend. I want you to stay as my best friend. I just want you to be my girlfriend at the same time.”

She was quiet for several moments. “I want that, too.”

“Then let’s go for it.”

“What if this doesn’t work out. What if everything goes wrong and we break up?”

“We’ll keep it casual, a little kiss from a friend wouldn’t hurt.” I shrugged.

Some of the glint returned to Danielle’s face alongside a subtle grin. “It’ll be more than just kissing if this works out.”

Despite nothing having physically changed, this one was different in so many ways. It felt like pride and success. It tasted like relief and the slight hint of her lipstick. When her hand rose to cup my cheek, her fingers rested upon my skin with a tingle of passion that was previously hidden. My own hand resided on her waist, feeling her smooth, soft skin through the fabric of her dress. Both of our other hands still had their fingers intertwined with the other and resting in the space between us.

Danielle was leaning forward, scooching closer until she was all but sitting on my lap while the bench groaned its disagreement. We didn’t listen. Our kissing remained at the surface level, mostly, but the entire demeanor was quickly shifting to become much hotter and heavier. I pulled back when I felt Danielle’s teeth gently but firmly close down on my bottom lip.

“Ah, did you just bite me?”

“Maybe.” She grinned. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Oh, I’ll show you.”

I took the challenge and closed the distance between our faces. However, I didn’t return my lips to hers. Instead, I kissed the edge of her mouth, then used soft, lingering pecks to trace a path down to her jawline. I continued towards her chin, then looped back around the other side where her jaw met her neck. Danielle breathed against me and moved her hair out of the way to make room for my smooches, which then trailed upwards. I had heard a lot about the ear being some kind of minor erogenous zone, so I went for it. I took it in between my teeth and gave a nibble. Danielle moaned and shivered against me.

Then the bench collapsed.

The creaking chain holding up my end of the bench, now having to support two people, came loose from wherever it was secured. Both Danielle and I were dumped onto the grass with all the grace. The armrest of the bench snapped in between the ground and my back, and both of our heads knocked together in a decidedly uncomfortable way until we came to rest with her laying on top of me.

Danielle lifted her head, expression widened in surprise. Her thick hair fell around the both of our faces, framing us like a curtain. It was just the two of us. I ignored the twinge of pain in the side of my head where we impacted against each other and smiled. Danielle did the same with a small chuckle before bringing her head down in yet another kiss. This one was soft, sweet, and gentle—lingering only for a few moments before she slowly lifted away again.

“We should probably get up.”

“Probably.” I agreed.

She stood first and extended a hand down to help me up. When we were both situated, she started raking her fingers through her hair while I brushed grass off my suit. We both turned at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind us.

“Did I interrupt something?” my sister chuckled.

“Nope. Just doing some improvised wrestling.” Danielle chirped.

“What about that?” My sister tilted her head towards the bench, hanging from one end while the other rested on the ground with the armrest broken in three pieces beside it.

“It died from natural causes.” I said.

“What natural causes?”

Danielle and I looked at each other, looked back at my sister, and spoke simultaneously.

“Gravity.”

“Well, since you two definitely didn’t break this bench, we should probably leave before the venue starts looking for somebody to blame.”

“We’re heading out soon?” I asked. My sister nodded.

“It’s getting late, and I don’t want to risk my headache getting worse. I figured we could say our farewells to everyone and get going back to the hotel.”

“Sure.” I said. “Sounds good.”

Goodbyes were brief, especially when we noticed some of the caterers going outside and examining the remains of the bench.

It seemed like a minute was all that had passed by the time we pulled into the hotel parking lot. In even less time, we were standing outside our respective rooms.

“We need to be checked out by eleven, but I want us ready to leave by eight. That way, we can stop by that breakfast place we passed on the way here and have a nice meal before the ride back.” My sister swiped her keycard against the lock.

“Sounds like a plan. Talk to you in the morning.”

My sister gave a knowing smile. “Enjoy your night.”

“You too.”

Soon enough, the door to our room closed behind Danielle and I as we stepped inside and kicked off our shoes. The silence was almost disorienting. The wedding, especially towards the end of the night, had been so loud even if we were outside. The car ride back was much quieter, but the radio had still been playing alongside of our own conversation. Now here, in the hotel room, the only sound was the soft humming of the air conditioner. Danielle gave a curious glance.

“Pajamas?” I shrugged off my coat.

Danielle unhooked her necklace, took off the bracelet, and then reached up to take off her earrings. “Yeah, but I gotta shower first. I need to get rid of this makeup, hairspray and stuff. It felt gross.”

“Want some help?”

Danielle dropped the jewelry onto the nightstand and smirked. “You want to help me shower?”

I shook my head. “I’m asking you if you want me to help you shower.”

“What happened to keeping things casual?”

“Hey, I’m just extending the offer. It’s up to you if you want to accept it.”

Danielle grinned for several moments. “Alright, on behalf of the royal court, I accept your assistance in maintaining my cleanliness.”

“Does they even have royalty here?”

“How am I supposed to know?” She shrugged, took off her socks, and began walking towards the washroom. “Now come on.”

I tore off my tie with such force it might have torn. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t bother to check before throwing it onto the bed and following Danielle. The way she grinned with such a seductive humour was more than enough to tear of my attention. When I rounded the corner, Danielle was holding the hem of her skirt in her hands. The lifted fabric showed several inches of her bare thighs.

“Care to help me undress?”

“Do you have any idea how much of a stupid question that is?” I smiled and walked forward. Together, we slowly worked to lift the dress and peel it off like a shirt. Well, Danielle lifted the dress. I held my hands just below hers as they rose, running my fingers across her body while I pretended to help. Past her thighs and hips to reveal a plain pair of black underwear that almost resembled boxers, but distinctly feminine. It took only a moment to figure it was probably to better conceal her delicate while wearing a skirt.

I didn’t linger on her underpants, since more of her lovely body was being revealed. The fabric rose to her smooth, toned stomach. One inch, then a second, then a third, up to her cute little belly button. I continued to rub my hands along her sides. I didn’t even realise that Danielle had bunched the dress to hold it in one hand until the other flicked me on the forehead.

“I get that you’re copping a feel, but I’m actually need a bit of a hand here. This dress is pretty tight in the shoulders.”

“Oh, uh... yeah.”

My tracing fingers temporarily switched to helpful ones as they hooked underneath the fabric and assisted in pulling it upwards. It didn’t stop me from visually ogling the way her black bra was revealed mere inches from my face. At least, it didn’t stop me until we got to the aforementioned shoulders. We must have looked pretty stupid for the bit of time we spent with Danielle in her underwear while her head and arms were stuck in a dress. Eventually, and with a distinct tearing noise, the dress came free. Danielle didn’t bother to check what part tore. She just dumped it onto the floor and huffed.

“I guess it was a nice dress. Anyways…” She turned around and grabbed her hair with one hand to hold it out of the way. “Mind getting my bra?”

My smile returned, but faded just as quickly when I got my hands on the back of her bra.

“Uhh, how do I...?”

“You pull the straps together, then apart.”

“Like this?”

“Ow, no. You gotta do it like—ah screw it.”

Danielle reached back and unhooked the mechanism in the blink of an eye. She dropped the bra to the floor and turned around.

“Okay, clearly, we’re not good at foreplay, so let’s just skip it and actually take our shower. Agreed?”

I nodded, somehow managing to stare at her face instead of her breasts. “Agreed.”

Danielle pulled off her panties while I went to work on the buttons of my shirt. It was clear we were done wasting time when a nude Danielle’s hands were fumbling with the buckle of my belt before I was even done with the second button. Despite the disposal of intentional foreplay, the simple concept of Danielle pulling down my pants and boxers in one single motion made my lower member get revealed at full mast. My shirt fell onto the floor beside my pants, followed shortly by my socks. Danielle smiled again.

“Better.”

Of course, I looked at her ass as she stepped through the fancy glass door of the shower. There was no possibility otherwise, as made evident by the way she stared at my manhood when I followed suit. I looked at her.

“You do realise that this water is gonna be freezing cold for a bit while it heats up, right?”

Danielle glared. “And you realise that the implication is us keeping each other warm in the meantime?”

Good enough. I turned and switched on the water as Danielle pressed herself up against mine. I could feel her breasts squishing and nipples poking into my back while she wrapped her arms around my midsection. That definitely helped distract me from the sudden, biting chill spraying down against my face. Thankfully, it didn’t take very long for the water to heat up. When that happened, Danielle and I pivoted in place. That meant Danielle had the first crack at the hot water.

That decision was entirely because of how gentleman-ly I was, and not because it meant I was left massaging shampoo into her scalp and playing with her hair in a way I never could before. It was also due to that gentleman-lyness that after we swapped places again so that we could apply soap to her body without it washing off immediately, I focused on her breasts first. After all, being stuck inside that bra all day surely made them extra dirty and in need of cleaning.

Her skin was so soft and pliable under my fingers that it was downright mesmerizing. I pressed myself up behind her and rested my head on her shoulder while I worked. It didn’t matter that my very erect cock was pressed upwards in the crack of Danielle’s ass. All that mattered was Danielle.

Her nipples were stiff like pebbles as I rolled them in between my fingers. Again, just to make sure they were clean. It was an entirely new sensation than when I was massaging her breast during our mostly-nude cuddle session yesterday. With the hot water spraying against my back, her bare body flush against mine, and both of her breasts in my hands, I could have mistaken it for a dream.

“I think my boobs are clean now.” She let out a husky breath.

I smiled. “Just had to make sure.”

I let my hands lower, rubbing the skin beneath her chest. Back and forth my fingers travelled from her sides until they met in the center of her torso, then back again. I took my time heading downwards, faintly feeling her ribcage underneath her skin. When my hands reached her waist, I made sure to spend some time scrubbing her tummy. Once again, I had to make sure she was clean. Nothing more. Danielle even giggled a little bit when I soaped up the cavity of her belly button.

She followed my hands without a word as I guided her to turn around. Then, I set myself back in the same position as before. That meant my penis was now pressed up against her stomach as she hugged me and we rested our heads on each other’s shoulder. Danielle made sure to pull her hair out of the way so that I would examine my work and ensure I applied the suds evenly across her back. It didn’t matter that that soap on my hands had been used up long before I finished with her front and I never reapplied.

Her back muscles tensed and flexed instinctively under my touch. Again, I travelled side to side, slowly inching my way downwards like a printer as I lathered the not-soap across her pale skin. I could feel Danielle smile into my neck when my hands finally curved downwards to grope—I mean clean, the swells of her perfect ass.

From the divet where the cheeks met her thighs to the crack in between, I gently but firmly massaged every possible millimetre of her rear end. I could even feel Danielle flinch slightly when my fingers brushed over her delicate rosebud. I wasn’t quite sure whether that was an opposition to the idea or anticipation, but I decided to play it safe. If Danielle wanted that... cleaned... she could ask me another time when we were both ready for that kind of advancement.

“Alright, time to clean your legs. Turn back around.”

Danielle did so, and this time I made sure to re-lather my hands with the bar of soap she was clutching. Then, I didn’t press myself back into her like I did when washing her upper body. Instead, I knelt down on the floor of the shower so that my face was level with her navel. We had to scoot a little farther back in the shower so that the water wasn’t spraying on her, but it was still hot against the back of my neck. Still, that didn’t distract me as I began working on her left leg.

I started with her feet. She braced herself with her hands against the walls of the shower while I lifted her leg and gently applied the suds to the tops of her feet, then curled down to clean the heel, followed by the bridge, and forward still until I squeezed soapy fingers in between her toes. Then I lowered her leg back to the shower floor and slowly massaged up her calf. As I expected from a girl who do cheerleader, the muscles could be mistaken for braided steel cable. They were only slightly visible from an outside perspective, but the dense core was revealed the moment my hands began kneading her flesh.

Further I continued, up past the inside of her knee, and across her shapely thigh. The muscle seemed like a paradox underneath her soft, delicate skin —like iron wrapped in velvet. I rose more and more up her thigh, circling my hands around to the back and then returning to the front again and again. I rose up so high that my knuckles were faintly brushing against her sweet folds. They were distinct in their wetness, and I know that the shower water had nothing to do with it. Then, I switched to the other leg and did the exact same thing. Foot, calf, then thigh, all slow and methodical as I explored every molecule of my best friend’s body. Well, everywhere except the final spot.

I sat on the balls of my feet and scooched forward even more, bringing my face mere inches away from Danielle’s pelvis. This close, I could see the stubble of her pubic hair just barely peeking out from her pores. I could see the muscles in her abdomen twitch when I rubbed my fingers along her labia. So, I rubbed again. Then a third time.

“Alright, looks like you’re all soaped up. Now for the rinse.” I stood. I could see the annoyance in Danielle’s face even as she grinned.

Still, she never made any opposition as we swapped positions and began working together to rinse off the suds scattered across her slippery body. When the last drops of shampoo were finally washed free from her hair, Danielle chuckled.

“Your turn.”

I knew that was going to happen. Danielle always gave more than she got. Whether it was revenge taken too far on a harmless prank, a sassy comeback turned into a roast felt by the victim, or even a heartfelt gift blown out of the water by a present with love and care all but oozing from the wrapping, Danielle never lost at anything. So, I knew that she was going to take just as much time and effort in ‘cleaning’ me, and then some.

First was the shampoo, and that immediately caused her method of revenge to be plainly obvious. She was pressed up against me as flush as she could possibly be, which meant her nipples were boring holes into my chest as she massaged the product into my scalp. Not only that, she was moving. It was subtle, but distinct. Danielle was grinding on me. My cock was pressed in between our pelvises, but Danielle’s was shifting up and down as she rolled up onto her toes before going back down. She even tilted her hips back just a bit so that her sex would be jutting out to graze against me in a way almost reminiscent of last night’s mutual masturbation.

Somehow, she made it even worse. when she turned me around and started soaping up my body. I’ll admit, I took my time when washing her purely for my own entertainment. It was a delight to admire and massage her perfect body. If it made Danielle feel good in the process, that was just a bonus. I could all but guarantee that Danielle’s own machinations in washing me were nothing more than an attempt to get me painfully aroused. An attempt that worked in stride.

Danielle kept herself pressed up against me, grinding away as she rubbed soapy hands up and down my chest. Furthermore, she wasn’t just resting her head in my shoulder—she was all but nuzzling me. As her hands worked across my torso, her mouth was giving little kisses and licks against my neck. When her head tilted up just enough for her to nibble at my earlobe—still soapy with shampoo.

“Oooh, you’re trembling.” She cooed. Her voice was soft, lips barely brushing against my ear as she whispered. “You must be cold. I can fix that.”

If I thought Danielle was pressing into me before, then she may as well have fused into my skin in the next moment. She was no longer resting into me and lightly grinding, she was hugging me tightly against her, smooshing her slippery breasts even further into my back and sliding one of her legs in between my own. By the time she returned her lips to my neck I was throbbing down below.

Washing my back was even worse, because now we were chest-to-chest. It also meant that she returned to grinding on my pelvis, but with how tightly she was pressing into me I had to fight my instincts to buck my hips. I was pleasantly surprised when Danielle took an interest in ‘washing’ my rear end the same way I had done to hers. I had never imagined previously that a man’s body would be as attractive to a woman as a woman’s was to a man, but that was being presented in full force now. What fun I may have had exploring Danielle’s nude form, Danielle was replicating and more.

When Danielle got onto her knees to ‘wash my legs’, I was all but leaking. Having her knelt down before me, slippery and dripping as water cascaded over her, looking up at me past my throbbing erection—I knew that image would be seared into my mind forever. She didn’t comment, she just smiled and grabbed the soap to reapply. I couldn’t even focus on the way her twinkling eyes were staring into my own—the feeling of her soft, gentle fingers rubbing up my legs in a way that was almost worship overpowered everything else. If this was anything like how it felt for her, no wonder she was being cutthroat.

I expected her to finally touch the one place she hadn’t so far. She would wrap her hand around my shaft and pump just a few times but then pull away, leaving me so unsatisfied like I did to her.

I didn’t expect her to lean forward and lick my lower head.

“Oh” I yelped. Danielle smiled in a way that could make a succubus blush.

“Just making sure that you’re clean. Don’t mind me.”

I didn’t get a chance to respond. Danielle rested one hand on my thigh and used the other to gently clasp onto my shaft. When she moved her grip forward, she used the motion to pull herself towards me and plant a gentle kiss on my tip. Then she pushed back to bring her hand closer to my base before repeating the process. Stroke, kiss, stroke. Stroke, kiss, stroke.

All the while, she was staring up at me with her big, brown, glittering doe eyes. Her wet hair hung in a curtain behind her head, and I could see the curve of her ass resting atop her bare feet every time she leaned forward. She was beyond beautiful.

The shower was practically steaming with the temperature of the water, but that was nothing compared to the warmth when she opened her mouth. The head of my cock slipped in between the small, soft pillows of her lips into a sopping wetness that radiated with heat.

Fuck. Me.

Danielle was actually giving me a blowjob. Just comprehending that sentence in my mind almost made me burst right then. There was nothing I could do but use one hand to steady myself against the wall as my knees started to buckle. Even with her mouth full, I could see her smiling just by the way her eyes twinkled. I expected her to pull off my cock and make some witty comment.

I was never happier to be proven wrong.

Instead of moving backwards, Danielle went forwards, further onto my member. Her lips slid across the skin of my shaft in wet bliss, and I could feel her tongue rubbing against the underside of my cock as she delved deeper. She made it most of the way before she stopped, which told me that the odd pressure on my tip was likely the entrance to her throat.

This was distinctly different than any other ‘sexual’ act I had shared with Danielle previously. When grabbing her breasts or kissing her, the acts were made interesting solely by the fact that it was Danielle whom I was doing it to. This, on the other hand, felt amazing. I couldn’t kiss the back of my hand or squeeze a stress ball to replicate this. No, this was Danielle with most of my little friend stuffed into her mouth and her tongue starting to dance little swirls on the underside. It was Danielle who moved her hand from my thigh to the delicate pouch hanging between my legs and properly initiated the blowjob.

There was no chance of me lasting any moderate length of time. With one hand wrapped partially around the shaft and pressed into my pubic bone, the other gently cupping my balls, and tongue passionately lathering up every inch she could reach as her lips slid forward and back, it was a miracle that I could hold out for as long as I did. By the third time her lips pressed up against her fingers wrapped around my cock, I was groaning.

“Dan, I’m...”

I couldn’t finish my words. Danielle pulled off with a loud, wet ‘POP’ and immediately started pumping her hand at a pace significantly faster than she had been going previously. Even if it lacked the distinct feel of her mouth, the rapid stimulation of her manual milking proved more than effective. A single grunt was all I could manage before I began pulsing. Danielle made sure to bring her face in closely.

The first rope of cum hit her at the base of her hair, but strung down in a thin line across her face. The second splattered against one closed eye. The third shot halfway onto her parted lips, with the other half going through the gap onto her tongue. The fourth and the remaining leftover drops all dribbled onto her chin. Even when no more seed sprang forth to paint her face a paler shade, my shaft still throbbed with release, brought to a much higher level of satisfaction since Danielle never stopped pumping her hand. Her gentle yet firm fingers milked out every drop I was willing to give and then some.

Only after my throbbing pulses ceased did Danielle slow her pace to a crawl, then a stop. She looked up at me with those big, adorable, sexy, teasing eyes. Well, one of them. The other was closed because of my cum sticking to her eyelid. She swallowed.

“Hmph. I was just making sure you were clean and you had to go and get me all dirty. Looks like it’s my turn with the water again.”

I wasn’t sure how I managed to speak as she stood up. “Well, I still need to rinse, so you can wait a minute.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll just have a bit of a snack in the meantime.”

I was confused, right until she dragged a finger across her closed eye to scoop up the jizz. She glanced at it for a moment, then looked me dead in the eyes as she slid the finger into her mouth. I watched her suckle on it like some sort of popsicle until her finger came back out spotless.

“Mmm. Did you have apple today?”

“Fuck off.” We both chuckled and swapped positions once again so that I could stand under the water. Danielle didn’t help me rinse the same way I did with her. Instead, she just leaned against the back wall and made a goddamned show out of scooping up the cream staining her face and making loud, lewd noises as she slurped it off of her fingers. I hadn’t even begun to soften after my climax, and the unreasonably sexy performance in front of me brought an aching arousal right back into my loins.

Distractions aside, I rinsed the soap in record time. It was almost sad to watch Danielle get back under the water and gently scrub her face. Thankfully it wasn’t all bad. It gave me the opportunity to saddle right up against her and hug her from behind. Danielle took several moments to slowly and carefully rub her fingers into the creases of her face, likely to ensure that both cum and lingering makeup were both removed. I spent that time rubbing her stomach, kissing her neck, and occasionally bringing a hand up to brush against the bottom of her breasts.

After a long while, Danielle shut off the water and we moved from the shower into the rest of the bathroom to towel off. She laughed when I took the initiative and rubbed my towel across her body.

“Oh! You’re drying me? Surely this is just a gesture of kindness with no ulterior motives of any kind.”

“Of course, of course.”

I agreed with a smile as she lifted her arms above her head. I greedily drank up the sight of her body glistening in the light like a man dying of thirst. She even had one hip cocked out to the side as if she were a model. I’ll admit, I forgot that I had the towel in my hands. I just wanted to rub her body again.

In a disappointingly little amount of time, her skin was scoured of any droplets of moisture. I couldn’t help but plant a kiss on her belly button as I stood back up, though. Danielle laughed, dropped her arms, took the towel from my hands, and did the same thing with me. Once again, she stepped it up by also using her own body as a towel, rubbing against me like a cheerleader working really hard to get tips at a topless car wash.

I started scrubbing my head with the towel to dry my hair shortly after Danielle did the same and watched as she stepped over to the counter to grab a hair dryer. She must have seen me staring.

“Do you ever get the feeling that you’re being watched by a voyeur perving on you?”

“Nope.” I grinned.

“Got it. Just checking.”

She resumed. It was interesting to watch her glossy, sopping black hair shift into a softer shade. It was equally as dark, but the texture was different. Like liquid ink compared to black velvet. When she was done, she turned to me in all her nude glory.

“Alright, your turn. I’m not letting you soak into the pillow.”

“Fine by me.” I stepped forward to stand in front of the mirror.

“Turn around, on your knees.”

“Really?”

“You don’t need to see the mirror, since I’m the one drying your hair. It also makes it easier for me to see when you’re down there.”

“Whatever you say, your grace.”

I placed my knees on the chilly tile floor of the bathroom and smiled up at Danielle. She clicked her tongue.

“Nah ah, eyes forward. It’s harder to work when your head is tilted like that.”

I wasn’t going to argue, especially when turning my gaze as directed led to her smooth, soft stomach being mere inches from my face. If I flicked my eyes upwards, I could see the outline of her small breasts hovering just above my head. If I looked down, I could see her mostly-shaven pelvis leading towards the present between her thighs. The entire time, I let my hands rest on Danielle’s hips. My thumbs traced lazy circles across her skin. With the added sensation of the hair dryer blowing against my scalp and Danielle working a comb to let the heat wick away any moisture left, it was dreamlike.

Soon enough, Danielle turned off the dryer and set both it and the comb back down on the counter.

“Alright, now we’re ready for bed.”

Danielle led the way back into the room. I noticed how both of us shivered lightly when the washroom door opened. With the heat of the shower, the temperature of the washroom increased a distinct amount compared to the hotel room—a temperature difference that left goosebumps as we walked back towards the bed. Danielle grabbed a pair of pajama pants.

“Wait!”

She halted and glanced over; one eyebrow raised in a silent question. I gently took the pants from her hand.

“Not yet. We aren’t done.”

The other eyebrow raised to match the first along with her smirk. “Oh, is that so? You help me clean up in the shower and now you’re offering some extra stress relief?”

“I'm nothing but a gentleman.” I said.

“Right, what happened to keeping things casual?”

“This is casual. You’ve never heard of casual sex?”

Danielle chuckled. “Which implies the existence of ranked competitive sex.”

“Exactly. Care to stay in the little league and release some tension?”

“You know...” Danielle wrapped her arms around my neck and batted those big, beautiful eyes. “I always imagined my first time would be a bit more romantic than a cheap fling.”

I shrugged. “We could get some sojus from the vending machine down the hall and pretend it’s wine.”

“Hmmm. Might be a bit too fancy for me. Anything else?”

“How about we turn on the TV and do it while watching people get eaten alive?”

Danielle smiled. “That’s more like it.”

“Speaking of eating people, I’m a little hungry.” I cupped one hand against her mound to allude towards my point. Danielle drew in a short breath at the contact.

“Oh? Am I on the menu?”

“You’re the dessert, actually.”

“I am?” Danielle said with a smirk. She jumped backwards unceremoniously onto the bed and slid over so that she was lying almost in the same way she would be when sleeping. On her back, stark nude with her hair sprawled over the pillow. It was reminiscent of yesterday’s fingering, but the implication of what was going to happen next was so much sweeter. Then she spread her legs.

Like opening a treasure chest, Danielle’s delicates were revealed to me as I crawled onto my stomach in between her thighs. Her outer folds were parted and glossy with moisture, while the inner folds were veritably dripping with arousal.

“Well, are you just gonna sit there staring at your meal, or are you gonna take some initiative and eat it?”

I looked up past her pelvis towards Danielle’s grin. “I’ve always been a fan of sandwiches, but this one looks soggy.”

“Go fuck yourself.” She said.

“Not until I fuck you, first.”

It was more for the shock factor more than anything, which I got in spades when I abruptly gave a long, firm lick up the entire length of her slit. Danielle shuddered, legs twitching, and abdomen flinching. Once again comparing the sensation to expectations, Danielle’s most precious place didn’t taste like anything special. It just tasted like, well... Danielle. Perhaps with a touch of a metallic bite, but overall, it was just a taste of clean, freshly showered skin. It had that in common with almost everything else about intimacy. It wasn’t even the act itself that brought pleasure, it was the knowledge about what the act was, and the fact it was Danielle gasping at the sudden contact.

Much like yesterday, I still had no idea what I was doing. I only have the vague idea that I should probably start slow, and then work up into things. However, the surprise lick was too fun of an idea to pass up, even if it starts off a lot stronger than I probably should have. When I gave a second pass with my tongue, it was much gentler than the first. I dragged my flesh along the outside of her flowering lips with a fraction of the pressure. Then I did the same to the other side. I planted a soft kiss to the front of her pelvis, then returned my nose to her skin while I lathered her folds with light swaths of my tongue.

I didn’t even notice that my arms were wrapping around her legs until my hands came to rest atop her thighs like I was preparing for recoil. Underneath her skin, I could sense her muscles shifting and flexing just slightly with the applications of stimulus. Even though I couldn’t see her face from this position, I could feel the calm, pleasured smile crawling across Danielle’s face just by the way her pussy relaxed against my mouth.

Aside from her fingers lazily curling into my hair, she made no movement to interfere with my actions. That left me with all the freedom I wanted. I was in no rush- no hurry to reach the finish. I was simply going to enjoy the journey and hopefully learn a thing or two along the way. After all, the only way I would get better at going down on Danielle is if I did it a lot.

I started slow. That served as a solid baseline for both myself to get acquainted with the concept of eating out my friend, and hopefully to allow for a lovely buildup of pleasure on her end. My tongue traced long, gentle circles across the skin around her slit. Occasionally, the edge of my probing implement would tickle against folds that almost seemed to be reaching outwards towards stimulation. Either that, or Danielle was making minute adjustments with her hips to try and twist herself into my tongue.

That confirmation was all I needed to quickly change my strategy. Instead of using my tongue like a brush against her canvas, I lowered my mouth to cover the entirety of her flower in a warm, wet seal. Danielle twitched amidst a pleasured groan. I could feel her fingers dig their way towards my scalp. They were still loose, but no longer were they merely residing in my hair. Now they held me in a grip that had only enough pressure to convince me to stay where I was. Not that I was planning on leaving anyway.

Those fingers quickly tightened when I dragged my tongue up the length of her sweet sex. I brought it down in the same way, then back up, then back down once more. It was like I was licking her own tongue, but with a bit more texture. The thought made me smile. As of this moment, I had officially kissed Danielle on both her upper lips, and her lower ones.

When I began to lick upwards once more, I took a bit more initiative. My tongue applied more pressure forward and pushed aside folds to allow a shallow entry. Danielle let out a long breath while I lapped up her intimate fluids. I imagined this is what a dog felt like when drinking water- tongue extending to scoop out what nourishment was manageable before pulling it back to swallow. The most I could hope was that my motions were bringing Danielle pleasure.

If licking her folds was better than licking around them, and pushing my way inside was better than staying out, then that surely meant going deeper was the best I could do. So, I strived to use every centimeter of my tongue. I pulled it as far out of my own throat as I could possibly manage while depositing it into Danielle. I stretched it out so far it almost hurt, but that didn’t matter. Silky walls squeezed from every angle and fingers tightened their grip in my hair. Still, I knew it wasn’t enough. This needed to be perfect for her, and I was almost certain that my methods weren’t quite what she required. Despite each of her actions pulling me further into her, I managed to tilt my head out to free my mouth.

“Tell me what you need.”

“Fingers and tongue.”

Her response was given in a single, slow, exhaled breath. The same one that finished with a satisfied purr when I pulled one hand from where it was wrapped around her thigh. That hand reached down under my chin and squeezed its way to lend a pair of fingers alongside my delving tongue. The added mass inside of her was apparent in the way it made her leg muscles shudder. I didn’t need to ask for my next instructions.

“Mmm, lick my clit. Keep going with the fingers.”

I did just that. I pulled my tongue free from the confines of her fleshy walls and focused attention on the small nub positioned at the top point where both sides of her sex met. As limited as my knowledge about this sort of thing was, it was enough that I knew the clitoris was very sensitive. I started lightly, giving nothing more than gentle, rasping licks against its bulbous surface. It seemed like such a small, inconsequential thing to do. Surely such a simple action couldn’t make that much of a difference.

Danielle’s reaction proved otherwise. The transition was instantaneous. Her breath caught in her throat, the fingers in my hair tightened even further, and my other hand had to actually put in effort in order to keep Danielle’s leg from clamping shut around my head. When I curled my fingers against constraining walls in time with my tongue brushing up against Danielle’s button, she shuddered. It became overtly apparent that I was now playing this game on ‘Easy’ mode.

She was much more worked up than she had been letting on, or the effects of stimulating her clit were even more prominent than I thought. Either way, it seemed like Danielle was squirming and moaning within mere moments after providing my directions. She wasn’t faking it either, I could tell that much. Her silky walls were rippling and squeezing on my fingers too much for this to be an act. Glancing my eyes upwards past her perfect body, her face was twisted in pleasure. Her eyes were closed and her nose was pointed to the sky.

It didn’t matter that one of her hands had moved up to clench onto a single breast, since the other was damn near tearing hair from my scalp. I also didn’t feel so bad for cumming too quickly in the shower, since I may still have beaten Danielle’s time.

If I had thought that bringing Danielle to climax with my finger yesterday was magical, doing the same thing while my tongue was on her clit was even better.

It seemed to last forever. Danielle ground her pelvis against my face and hand throughout the entirety of her orgasm. Though it may have been an attempt to get more stimulation, her wiggling ironically made it harder to apply pressure to her clit. I somehow managed.

By the time Danielle finally settled down, the opening credits music had finished playing and allowed for the episode to continue. The noise of arguments considering walkers in a barn was drowned out of existence by Danielle gently tugging on my hair to get me to pull away.

“Mmm, that was pretty good.”

“Only good?” I teased and propped myself on my elbows.

“Yeah. You’d think with all the time you spend watching porn that you’d know how to do this better.”

“Sounds like I need some practice. Care to be my dummy?”

“Heh.” She chuckled. “Is ‘dummy’ in reference to a testing doll, or are you just calling me an idiot?”

“Why not both?” I asked. Danielle smiled in response.

Danielle’s eyes glanced down between my legs towards my stalwart erection. “Looks like our budget foreplay got someone excited.”

I shrugged. “You try going down on someone while watching people being eaten alive. Nothing sexier.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Danielle laughed and sat up, crossing her legs so that we were facing each other on the bed. “You know, I missed this confidence of yours. We could cut at each other back and forth and you would never bat an eye, but then you just kept getting so awkward about this weekend.”

I gave a pause before my answer. “Well, I was afraid. I got us into this mess, and I thought that us having to pretend to be dating would screw everything up.”

“I told you; everything is gonna be fine.” She said.

"Everything was fine until you started acting all lovey-dovey, and I had no idea how to react. I thought that if I did it again, it would be weird."

“It was already weird, dummy.”

“Weirder, then.”

Danielle brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “So, you decided to spill your guts and you think everything’s fine because now I’m your actual girlfriend?”

“Oh, not at all.” I shook my head. “I’m still terrified of saying the wrong thing. I’m just matching your energy and hoping I don’t step too far.”

Danielle raised an eyebrow. “Matching my energy, huh?”

“Yep.”

“So, if I were to say that this was my first time...”

Danielle placed a hand on my chest and pushed, forcing me down onto my back. I could only watch in anxious desire as she got onto her knees and scooched forward until my cock, angling to the sky, was held against her pelvis like she was measuring the depth. She even kept it in place by wrapping her fingers around it and holding me against her. If I hadn’t cum in the shower earlier, I probably would have done so at the thought of what we were about to do next. The end of Danielle’s hanging sentence was filled with implications.

“…what would you do?”

I smiled. “I’d respond by asking if you had condoms in your bag like you had this all planned out.”

“I don’t even know what I’m going to have for dinner until five minutes before. What gives you the idea that I could plan something like this?”

“Good point. I take it that means you don’t have a condom hidden away somewhere?”

Danielle shook her head. “The only reason I agreed to come was just so I could tease you about all this.” She then smiled. “Falling in love with you turned out to be a happy little accident along the way.”

“Wow that’s first” She laughed. I rested a hand on her thigh. It was hard to focus with her lovely figure all but straddling me, yet I managed to keep it together.

“Jokes aside, because I have a serious question.”

“Why so serious?”

“Danielle.”

“Okay, sorry. Question?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I glanced down towards where her hand was pressing my shaft into her stomach. “Without a condom?”

Her face softened. “I think so?”

“You think so?”

She frowned. “I mean... kinda. I want to do this. Like, a lot. I really, really want this, even if we don’t have a condom. But I know that we shouldn’t do it without a condom. But I also know that you can always pull out, and then we can also get a pill or something tomorrow. Plus, it’s a safe day so the chances of anything are pretty much non-existent anyway.”

“So, the verdict is...”

Danielle closed her eyes for a moment, let out a deep breath, then opened them again to reveal her melted chocolate irises.

“Yes.”

Danielle responded in kind with a wink, since her hands were occupied. One was placed on my chest to brace herself as she lifted her hips enough so that my member was dragged until it rested against her lower lips like it was knocking for entry. The other hand held it there, pushing lightly until it lined up just right. The head of my cock was nestled into the lovely nook, just lightly spreading apart the folds like they were curtains covering a window. Danielle held there for many moments until I glanced upwards.

“What, is this the one and only time the amazing Danielle nervous about something?”

“Oh, shut up. Of course I’m nervous. It’s my first time.”

“Mine too.” I argued. Danielle rolled her eyes in response.

“Yeah, but you aren’t gonna be the one bleeding for it. This is gonna hurt so gimme a minute, you jerk.”

I held up my hands. “Geez, okay. Take your time.”

Danielle visually steeled herself. She waited a few more moments, took a deep breath, then carefully began lowering. It felt heavenly. The head of my cock slipped inside of her warm, wet tunnel, immediately being squeezed from all angles like the most intimate and naughty of hugs. She held there for many moments, taking deep breaths and preparing herself. I waited patiently for her to continue.

I didn’t expect her to drop.

Right down to the base in one, swift, solid motion. One moment, my head was languishing in the confines of her sex, and the next, it was shoved to the depths while the rest of my shaft was engulfed. Danielle shuddered on top of me while I made several un-masculine noises. When I finally brought my vision back into focus on Danielle’s face, I expected to see it twisted in pain after she just impaled herself. Instead, she was visibly straining to keep from laughing. She failed.

It was like a melody of humour while I struggled to comprehend what was happening. Soon Danielle rested her other hand on my chest with a smile.

“Oh, you should see the look on your face right now.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” I asked meekly.

“Not at all.” She smirked and ground her hips side to side. Her inner walls rippled against me in oh-so-lovely ways.

“How?”

“I’ve been doing sports since I was five. My hymen fucked off before I even knew what it was. Even if it didn’t, my toy would have cleared up whatever was left years ago.”

“Huh, wait... a toy?”

“Mhm.” She nodded. “It’s pink and squishy. You’ll have fun using it on me when we get back home. For now...”

Danielle lifted her hips almost as quickly as she had dropped them, right up until the only thing residing within her was my lower head.

“...I don’t feel like taking it slow.”

Oh, dear god.

When Danielle dropped again, I nearly saw stars. Then she rose and repeated the action a second time. Then a third. Then a fourth. All the while, she was only gaining speed. I had been expecting slow, careful sex for our first time, but she was a veritable piston as she went up and down. To think that Danielle, who mere days ago had been my casual best friend, was now riding me like — well, it was almost too much. All I could do was put my hands on her hips. I didn’t even notice that she had moved off of her knees and into a full crouch for a maximum-efficiency-cowgirl ride.

I could feel the way she clenched around me every time she lifted, like her insides were desperately clinging on to the stimulation. Meanwhile, every time she hilted me once again, I could see her modest breasts jiggle. They were mesmerizing, despite their smaller size.

“Hey, my eyes are up here.”

“I’m just—oohh, imagining putting googly-eyes on your nipples.”

When Danielle bottomed out once more, she stayed there. Her eyes drilled into mine for many moments before her lips curled into a response.

“Boobly eyes.”

We both snorted out a chuckle. I could certainly feel that. She rippled around me, and just as quickly, she let out a shuddered gasp.

“Ooh, it feels weird to laugh when you’re deep inside me.”

“Bad weird or good weird?”

She smiled. “Ohh—good weird. Definitely good weird.”

She should have known what I was going to do next. Unfortunately, I think the context of the setting was just enough of a distraction that she didn’t put all the pieces together in time. I saw her face twist into a warning.

“Wait, don—”

Too late. My hands, on her hips, immediately started to flick and brush against her sides. She revealed yesterday on the couch that she was ticklish. That mistake was quickly brought to light as I unleashed an all-out tickle assault.

She squealed out, eyes wide, and clamped down on my dick with the force of a handshake between two guys trying to see who winces first. Her hands desperately reached for mine, but I was quicker. Wherever she grabbed, my fingers had already tickled and moved on. Hips, thighs, back, armpits, anything I could reach was a target. I was sitting up to be able to claim more ground as Danielle fought back in blissful agony. Eventually, Danielle had retreated enough that she fell back onto the bed and I was now leaning over her—still sheathed inside her sex. Her hands may have been pushing me away to end the assault, but I don’t think that she even realised her legs were firmly locked together around my waist to keep me buried inside her.

Somehow, I managed to lay my weight down on top of her, pinning her hands in between our chests. Meanwhile, mine were free to explore and tickle away at her waist. She writhed underneath me, head twisting back and forth as she giggled and moaned. Any hope of a facade or confident act was gone. Within moments, tears were streaming down Danielle’s face and she was gasping for breath.

“Stop! Stop, ohmygod please!”

I could easily understand the reactions. The way that her velvet tunnel was roiling around me made her expressions obvious. Every time my fingers brushed against her; she squeezed taught on my shaft. If it felt even half as good for her as it did for me, then that combined with the actual tickling would be nothing short of overwhelming.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease! Oh my fucking god please stop!”

I relented in my attack, but it wasn’t for Danielle’s sake. If I continued, the way her pussy was milking me would have made me empty the contents of my balls in record time. I ceased the movements of my hands and held them still on her waist, using her as leverage to push myself back up so that I was leaning over her. The instant that her hands came free, she opted to hit me. A solid, square punch right into the sternum.

“Asshole!”

“Hey, you said it felt good when you laughed.”

“That doesn’t mean you start tickling me!” Her voice was angry, but she was all smiles.

“You liked it. You almost came.”

It was an educated guess, but apparently one that was spot on.

“Yeah? Let me tell you—there’s a difference between enjoying something and something feeling good. If you ever want to do that again, you better hope that I’m tied down because I’m gonna fucking stab you after I cum.”

“So BDSM is a possibility for the future. Noted.”

She blew an errant lock of hair away from her eyes and smirked. “Laugh it off, dumbass. Just know, if we do that, you’re the first one getting tied. Let’s see how much you like getting tickled while balls deep inside of me.”

Danielle unlocked her legs from around my waist and ground her hips like she was stirring a pot of soup using my dick as a spoon.

“Now come on, I was close.”

“So was I, which is why I stopped.”

“I’m not asking you to keep going. I’m telling you. Now.”

I gave an exaggerated sigh of mock reluctance. “Fine. If you insist.”

This time, it was me doing the moving instead of Danielle. Instead of her bouncing up and down atop me, I was the one doing the thrusting. We were locked in a pseudo-missionary position as I brought my hips back slowly before sending them forward once more in a swift motion. It was ecstatic. To look down beneath me and see Danielle, hair spread around her face like an angel’s halo, was nothing short of a miracle. I was fucking Danielle. I was fucking my best friend. I was fucking my girlfriend. My best friend Danielle. My girlfriend Danielle.

When I stared into her eyes, I could feel the desperation quickly building on both of our faces. At least we were both premature. Danielle gritted her teeth and spoke in between grunts of pleasure.

“Don’t you fucking dare cum before me.”

“Dan, I…”

“No. Don’t do it. Don’t, you stupid piece of shit. Just let me cum, fucking make me cum and then you can cum.”

“I don’t…”

Danielle pulled me down so that I was lying on top of her again, but this time her hands were free to hold taught onto the sides of my face as she smashed her lips against mine. I could feel her heartbeat pounding into my chest, or maybe it was my own. Either way, it felt like one of us was about to go into cardiac arrest. Danielle’s legs wrapped firm around my waist once more, which I could only vaguely consider a bad idea. The rest of me was desperately trying to hold on while Danielle convulsed through the beginnings of her climax.

If it felt amazing having her cum on my fingers and tongue, then there was no word in the English language that could describe the sensation of having Danielle squeeze down and shudder on my cock. Every millimetre cinched within the silky confines of a fleshy, vibrating hydraulic press that desperately sought to milk me in the way nature intended. It was bliss. It was agony. It was a sensation that I fought desperately to resist as I strained my muscles.

That wasn’t the only battle I fought in that moment, either. With Danielle’s legs locked instinctively around me and her cunt gripping with the force of a god I didn’t believe in; I had to force and push every muscle in order to try and pull out. It was not simply a battle—it was a war that needed to be won.

I lost.

Danielle and I both groaned into each other’s mouth as I slammed my pelvis back against hers. If she wasn’t going to let me pull out, intentionally or not, then I wasn’t going to try anymore. With my shaft buried as deep as it would go and Danielle twitching underneath me, I gave one single, powerful throb before the flood gates opened.

I don’t think either of us were cognizant enough to be aware of what was happening. We were both too locked into the throes of pleasure to resist, so we just let it wash over us like a tidal wave. Danielle swallowed my moans as I weakly attempted to thrust my buried cock further inside, firing off streams of sticky seed like a Super Soaker all the while. Every time I pulsed inside, Danielle did the same in response, which drew forth another throbbing jet from myself. A feedback loop of stimulation and pleasure shot through us both. I knew that I had stopped dumping spunk into Danielle after a few seconds, but that did not stop the aftershocks of our conjoined orgasm from shattering through us for what felt like a full minute of ecstasy.

When our lips finally parted and our eyes opened barely a centimeter from the other’s, we were both panting heavily into each other’s faces. I could smell the cheesecake on her breath.

“You didn’t pull out?” Her voice was a whisper.

“You didn’t let me.” I responded in kind. I watched her bite the inside of her cheek.

“Alright, I’ll take the hit for that. Since plan A failed, we’re going with plan B.”

“Plan B as in...”

Danielle chuckled. “Plan B. Gotta say, they nailed it with that name.”

“I guess they did.”

I lowered my head into the bed just over her shoulder. We were quiet for several moments, the silence only broken by the sound of an intense conversation coming from the TV. After a bit, Danielle nuzzled into my neck.

“You can get off me whenever you feel like it.”

“What if I don’t feel like it yet?”

“Fine. Let me rephrase; get the fuck off of me so we can cuddle and watch our show, or I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass I can tie my shoes with your dental floss.”

“Wow. Very romantic.”

Danielle was all but whispering into my ear. “You want romantic? Wait ‘till you see what I do with my other foot.”

“Okay, okay.” I chuckled and pushed myself back up onto my knees. I slowly withdrew my softening member from Danielle’s lovely pussy. The only fluids dribbling down her folds seemed to be her own, which made sense. Lying down like this- gravity couldn’t really pull my cum from inside her. Not that it looked like Danielle minded. She just grabbed my arm and roughly yanked me down beside her. It only took a few moments of readjusting before we were back into our patented half-sitting-half-laying cuddle position, with one of my arms wrapped around Danielle’s waist and her head on my shoulder. Her hair smelled like cheap hotel shampoo.

“Ahh, so much for keep things casual.” Danielle murmured.

[alastorthirsty]

Hooray For Makeup Sex! - Alastor x f! fallen angel!reader

Request: Hi! I recently read one of your alastor pieces & ohhhh my god! It was amazing. I was wondering if you would do something alastor x f!reader where they have an argument, add some angst, some fluff, some heavy heavy smut? Almost like alastor begging for reader & wanting to do anything for her to forgive him ?? Just a little idea. :) thank you so much for your wonderful work!’

Hey nonnie! I’m absolutely thrilled to fulfill your request. I hope this hits the mark! Let me know if it does! 😘

Word count: 6678

Warnings: established relationship, breakup, angst, fluff, Alastor is a very jealous and possessive but also in love man, thigh riding, (angelic) bloodplay, vaginal intercourse

Please like, comment, and reblog to sustain me! Let me know if you'd like to be on my tag list and remember that requests are open!

‘Sorry’ is not a word in Alastor’s lexicon. He stares at the heatless green fire in front of him, whiskey in one hand, the other tapping against the arm of his chair.

That was Charlie’s unsolicited advice, a rehash of old material. It starts with sorry, Al.

Well, he stubbornly doesn’t believe he’s in the wrong to begin with, so why should he go and grovel at your fucking feet?

‘Sorry’ is not a word in Alastor’s lexicon, and that’s that.

He throws the whiskey across the room suddenly, with such force that the crystal crashes into the opposite wall, forcing him to look at it.

Oh, it’s luxurious. A four poster bed with a white linen canopy. A mattress that adjusts itself to your whims, night by night. Silken sheets in the exact shade of your favourite colour. All of it for your benefit and yours alone—for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t even sleep! He doesn’t need to sleep, he just needs…

Alastor stares at the bed, imagines how he’d sit next to you as you slumbered, glancing over at you occasionally for the sake of your comfort and security. He remembers how you’d snore lightly and how he would push hair out of your face as you snoozed. He remembers smiling…

He remembers smiling.

He also recalls other little activities the two of you got up to in this bed, satisfying a hunger he’d never known before you, but that isn’t something he craves anymore. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

‘Sorry’ isn’t a word in Alastor’s lexicon, even though… even though…

It needs to be.

He sits there thinking of everything from the beginning. The day you first met, all those mysterious luminous creatures floating along, moving your furniture past the lobby. Your soft and kind smile, the one that sickened him at first. That damnable dress you wore the first time the two of you hit the sheets, and how fun it was to rip it off your body. The way his shadow always tried to steal feathers from the wings of your shadow. The first time you yelled at him for that.

He thinks of where things went wrong, the man that caused that incredible din, but the only thing he can think of, if he is finally honest with himself, is himself. His own jealousy, his controlling nature, thinking he knew what was best for you. That was what sparked the argument, wasn’t it?

It his fault, certainly, but ‘sorry’ is not in Alastor’s lexicon, period.

The lilies are still on the bedside table. They are dried, desiccating, the little leaves and petals falling onto the surface. He had gotten the lilies to say ‘sorry’, in his own way, but you never did come back to his room.

He lays back on the bed and plucks a dying lily from the bouquet, keeping it in his hand. It's not difficult to imagine you there beside him, your arms wrapped around him as he presses his face against your shoulder, and oh, that’s when it really hits him.

Your scent. He remembers it so well that he smells it now, a phantom chased by nothing. His eyes close and he rolls until his head meets your pillow, breathing in your scent deeply.

‘Sorry’ is not in his lexicon, but goddamn it, there are lilies.

What would it take, what flowers would fix things, if lilies were not enough? Pink roses? White orchids? Tulips? A hundred dozen daffodils, flooding the entire hotel?

Alastor notices now how his hands are shaking at his sides. He clenches his claws into fists and closes his eyes, breathing in your scent again. The best thing to do is to incinerate the pillow, the bed, the lilies…

No, no. His jaw tightens. No, that would be the easy thing to do. Not the best, or even the smartest. It was the cowardly thing to do.

‘Sorry’ is not in Alastor’s lexicon, but he’s no fucking coward.

He can almost hear your voice in his ears, whispering his name with such sweet affection. He remembers your laugh, a sound like music to him. A laugh reserved for him and him alone. Something special.

He's never needed anyone else's company before. He never bothered with the emotional needs of other people. You’re the only person he's ever cared for, the only person who has ever truly meant anything to him. He feels weak and vulnerable over your absence. He doesn't like feeling like this, but you’re the one woman that can break down his walls.

Alastor doesn't like needing you, he doesn't like letting you have this power over him. But at this moment, he doesn't care. He'd give anything to just hear your voice again, even if it’s just to yell at him and tell him to fuck off.

Again.

The sound of your voice, the way you looked into his eyes, your little imperfections that only served to make you all the more perfect in his eyes. He remembers how your lips felt against his skin, the soft warmth of your touch.

He doesn’t like to need you, but he does love it.

He opens his eyes, clutching the now withered flower so tightly that all but a few brown petals fall from the stem. He stares at it for a long moment, trying not to let the memories overwhelm him. A green fire erupts from his palm, scorching it first, then turning it to ash. He stares at it, the lightness of it in his palm.

He's always had such strict control over himself, even under stress or grief, but not anymore. Not when it comes to you. You’ve always been able to cause feelings of weakness and helplessness within him. He hates himself for feeling this way, but at the same time, he can't bring himself to hate you. No, never you.

He closes his eyes again, imagining you lying beside him. You would have wrapped your arms around him and pressed your lips to the side of his neck. Sometimes, you’d start leaving the tiniest of kisses down his neck. It would make him shiver, it would make him…

Just like that first night when things turned physical. Your hands would always find a way under his shirt, running your fingers over the muscles of his chest and stomach, your fingers tracing reverently over his scars.

He can almost feel the softness of your skin, the warmth of your body.

Alastor sighs in consideration of his current position. One of, if not the most powerful Overlord of hell, lying in a bed he does not need, pining after a fallen angel who once (admittedly, accidentally) broke a horn off his shadow. He breathes in your scent again. A fallen angel who made his mama’s jambalaya for him. A fallen angel who was never once intimidated by him. A fallen angel who created life, “along a certain slant of light”, as you put it, most of them visible only to you, except for shimmers of light, like oil on water.

A fallen angel who wouldn’t speak to him even if he said sorry.

Alastor sighs, sits up, holding her pillow like a child holding a fucking teddy bear.

“Fuck.”

He smacks himself on the forehead and drags his hand down his face.

“Fuck.”

He says it again, getting a taste of the word, the pride of it in its coarse formation and meaning.

Alastor sighs, holding the pillow, looking at the bouquet of dead lilies. “Fuck.”

He wants to feel the softness of your lips again. To feel the warmth of your skin, the press of your body against his. But more than anything, he wants to hear you laugh again. He wants that beautiful smile back, the smile you give to him and only him.

But he doubts that will happen. You’ve probably already moved on from him, and honestly, he wouldn't blame you for doing so. Well, that’s a lie.

He knows he's difficult, and demanding—sometimes too demanding. You’ve always been far more patient with him than anyone else, but even that has its limits. And he's certainly pushed those limits.

You’re probably in the arms of some other man right now, maybe even him, laughing as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. You probably don’t even think about Alastor anymore.

‘Sorry’ may not be in his fucking lexicon, but like hell he’d ever allow another man into your bed, and certainly not…him.

Alastor makes sure he’s impeccable before riding the dark to your room. He decides it would be a rather stupid idea to appear inside your room without permission, so he settles on the hallway and knocks on your door.

“Come in!”

The sound is muffled, and he feels the sharp need to lecture you on not checking who is at the door before letting them in, but he refrains. He turns the doorknob and walks into your room for the first time in a while and finds you—

Down on the floor, halfway underneath the bed.

“This seems like a cliche pornographic film,” he comments as he shuts the door.

Herbert, the only one of the little light creatures that he can see, floats towards him.

You try to sit up right when you hear Alastor’s voice, banging your head. You get out from under the bed and stand up.

“Herbert, leave him alone,” you say.

“Nonsense! Hello little creature,” Alastor says to the glowing bastard he had tolerated at best before the breakup. He summons up an apple for the mischievous little son of a bitch to snack on and Herbert quickly zips away with it, disappearing under the bed.

“How did you know that being stuck is a porn cliche?” you ask, sitting on the edge of the bed, your arms crossed. “Been watching a lot of it lately?”

“I think you know that I have not,” Alastor says, leaning forward on his staff. “We just so happen to live with an adult film star who tries to pull the ‘help me I’m stuck’ routine on Husker at least twice per week. What were you doing under the bed, darling?”

“Herbert! He’s been stealing from me,” you say. “I knew I didn’t lose those emerald earrings you gave me. I found those and then some in his little nest under the bed.”

He can’t help but swell with pride. One of his favourite things to do was present you with gifts and he loved seeing them on you every time.

“What do you want?” you ask, and that deflates him a bit.

Alastor takes a breath, his chest rising. “I need you to instruct me in something.”

“Go ask literally anyone else.” You open up the door, gesturing for him to leave, but with a bit of boldness Alastor flicks the door closed again.

“I’m afraid there’s no one better to ask than you, my dear.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Alastor, I broke up with you so I wouldn’t have to deal with things like this anymore.”

Alastor pauses for a time. Honesty tumbles its way past his lips. “You are all that I love.”

The room goes silent, save for the sound of Herbert cronching his apple.

You give a sigh, a pained expression on your face, one that he hates to see. All of him wants to go to you, but you wouldn’t want that—not yet.

“Goddamn it,” you whisper. “Is that what you needed instruction for?”

“No,” he says immediately. “No, loving you needs no instruction.”

You let out a breath. That’s all you can do before your head is in your hands.

“My dear, may I sit beside you?” Alastor asks after a moment’s silence.

“Oh, fuck you!” You stand up and circle around him once. “Fuck you, Alastor!”

His eyebrows rise. “That is not the response that I anticipated or desired.”

“Oh it’s not?” you ask mockingly.

He’s never seen you act like this before, and it is surprising him. An unseen variable, one that choked him. His grip on his staff increases.

“My dear, I sense that you still harbour quite a lot of animus—“

“Shut up! Shut up!” You pace back and forth the length of the rug, also a gift from him. “Fuck you! Fuck you for saying the right things the wrong time!”

Alastor takes a chance and sits down on your bed, watching you closely. “Do you want more earrings?”

You immediately go to your armoire and start throwing jewellery at him. He’s quite literally stunned by this behaviour. Herbert comes out from underneath the bed and snipes a few rings.

“Darling.”

You say nothing, you just keep throwing things at him.

“Darling.”

“Just take it. Take it all back. Give it to someone else.”

Now he looks offended and straightens his posture. You run out of jewellery to throw at him.

“You know there can be no other,” he says, somewhat angry. “You know I’m not capable of having any such enjoyment with anyone else. You are all I love and all that I desire to love. All I can love. There’s none but you and nothing will ever compare, never come close. Do you understand?”

“Then keep them for yourself. Or let Herbert have it all, enable his fucking kleptomania.”

“They belong to you and you will have them. Every last jewel.”

“Alastor, you shouldn’t be here,” you say.

“That is a consideration I undertook before coming.” He leaves his staff on the bed and goes to you. “I need your instruction.”

“On what?” you snap.

He lets out a deep breath. “How many lilies will it take to be forgiven?”

You stare at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Forget the lilies then,” he says quickly. “Just disregard the matter of florals altogether. What token is needed?”

“Token?”

“It doesn’t need to be a physical object, not a coin one inserts into a slot in exchange for heroin or soda,” he says quickly. “I am explaining myself poorly. I’ll be truthful and direct, if you will allow me.”

Your arms cross again, a defensive posture. “Okay.”

“I need you. I don’t know how to be without you anymore. It’s maddening. I find myself missing you in all these vacant spaces that were not vacant before you. You created space in me that only you can fill, and now it is…empty. You made me this way, and it is your fault,” he says quickly. “And what am I to do, now? Accept that I am now empty? Accept that I will walk through eternity alone, with all this space within me, space that you and you alone can occupy?”

“And you hate it, don’t you Alastor? And you hate me for it.”

“I considered that,” he admits. “I tried to insist it to myself, that I did not need such adulations and that I didn’t need you, specifically. I tried not to need you, but your absence insisted upon you. I do not hate you. Nothing could force me to feel that way, not myself, not you, not Herbert.”

“Herbert?”

“Correct. Herbert.”

You sit down beside his staff, touch the microphone knowing you were the only person ever allowed to do so. You sigh. “I love you, too. And just like you, I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I know exactly what to do with it,” he responds.

“Yeah?”

Alastor nods. “We just…go back to before. Move forward. But together. I would sooner die than see you with another man.”

You lift a warning finger to him. “You’re not helping yourself.”

Alastor huffs. “It is the truth. You value honesty as well as I do.”

Now you scoff. “You deal in subterfuge, not honesty.”

“Not with you, and you know that,” he says, pointing at you. “I am a flawed man, but I’ve given you my very best. Better than I thought I had capacity for. Can you truly say that it was never enough?”

“Of course it was,” you say softly.

Alastor sighs and sits beside you. He thinks to put an arm around you, but manages not to.

“You are so used to getting everything you want,” you say. “You have the power to get whatever you want except me.”

He winces. “Please do not put it that way, darling. Please don’t say…we’ll never find a way. Please.”

Slowly, you reach over and touch his hand. When it curls together with his fingers, he places his other hand firmly on top, squeezing.

“Four hundred.”

He waits for you to explain, but you don’t.

“Four hundred what, dearest?” he asks.

You look at him and smile. “Four hundred lilies.”

Alastor snaps his fingers and four hundred lilies arrange themselves in vases on top of every surface in the room. Smelling them, Herbert whooshed out from underneath the bed and floated all along the flowers, playing with the tiny white bells in a way that Alastor could admit might be considered ‘cute’ by others. He looks back to you.

“Do you want to count them all, darling?” he asks.

“I don’t need to,” you say softly. “I feel like I should tell you something.”

“I do not like that,” Alastor says immediately. “I do not like the sound of that. Is it him?”

“Don’t bring this full circle to the last argument,” you warn. “There is no other man. I just thought…you really came in here and said things that I didn’t think you could. You really laid it all on the line and I feel like you deserve the same from me.”

Alastor nods along slowly. “No other man?”

You shake your head. “No other men. Will you stop? Will you please stop? Will you let me talk now?”

“I suppose,” he says, pulling you closer. He settles so that his head rests against your chest. “I am listening.”

“It’s not exactly easy for me to open up either,” you say before clearing your throat. “There’s a wealth of differences between us but similarities that are significant. We both struggle with making space for other people in our lives and typically won’t.”

“That is true,” he says, fingers running along your shoulder.

You start to play with his hair, the fuck-ass bob you only came to love because it was his preference. You’re tempted to touch one of his ears, but now’s not the time for that.

“Sometimes it’s simply hard to believe that there’s this perfect person that really…loves me,” you say softly, quietly, almost wishing that you hadn’t.

Alastor tightens his hold on you. Neither of you could handle personal vulnerability quite so easily, but yours makes his heart clench. “Do I make you feel…less loved when we argue over other men?”

You sigh. “Alastor, it’s not just an argument about men, it’s you basically calling me a whore—“

“No, I didn’t,” he interjects quickly. “No. I have never called you that or thought it of you. You are my favourite, my treasure, my prize, and I would never think so lowly of you. Never, not in all of eternity until what you call ‘the inevitable heat-death of the universe’. I would argue that heaven and hell are a different universe but that is yet another argument we should never cross again.”

“Agreed,” you say, nodding your head. “Just like the argument about—“

“Horses running on their fingers, I know.” Alastor can’t help the fondness in his smile. No matter how heated the arguments, the passion between the two of you manifests itself in all ways possible.

You smile back at him and decide to take the chance to kiss him again. Just once. Just to show him he was still loved, cherished, longed for. It was only right.

Alastor cups the back of your head to keep you there. Fuck once, now that he’s gotten to kiss you he chooses to interpret it as carte blanche to take as many as he wants. Damn, how he had missed this…

You gently remove his hand and pull away. “I’m not done speaking.”

“Apologies,” he mutters.

You nod and continue. “I want to be the one you love. I want to be the only one you love, just as much as you want to be the only one that I love. You just can’t treat me like a soul that you own.”

Alastor’s eyes widen at that. Had he really…?

He looks you dead in the eye. “If I ever do that again, correct me with a good slap.”

You shake your head. “No. I won’t lay my hands on you with anything but affection and…shall we say, intimacy.”

“Intimacy,” he repeats, and almost moans then and there. It has been…too long.

“I know,” you say. “I know.”

“Will you ever be…comfortable with the idea of it again?” Alastor asks.

“I’ve practically undressed you with my eyes since you came in here.”

He goes to make a move but you rebuff him once more, sitting up in the bed. “The fact remains that I am hurt by you when you start questioning me about the attentions of other men, attentions that I do not notice more often than not, if they exist at all. Especially not from him. I keep telling you, he does not look at me that way, he doesn’t think of me that way.”

He nods several times in thought before sitting up beside you, turning to face you. “I am afraid.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve seen him express all sorts of emotions in front of you before but never, not once, had even alluded to fear.

“W-why?” you ask with a bare whisper.

“I’m not a good man, and you know that. You know what I do almost better than anyone else. You are too good for me, therefore I fear another man will come along, catch your fancy, and leave me with the choice of either killing him and devastating you or simply languishing in my own self-pity. Why are you so far?”

(Obviously he would kill the other man.)

Alastor drags you into his lap and you give no resistance. He holds you tight, intending to never let go, not now when there was a chance.

You lay your head on his shoulder and breathe him in. You’ve missed his scent, too.

“I’m not too good for you,” you mutter against his neck. “And I won’t hear of it. Understood?”

He smiles begrudgingly. “Fine. You will have it as you wish, my dear.”

“So,” you say. “What now?”

“Move forward,” he says again. “Be with me again. Allow me to present you with jewels. I will…continue to put up with that little abomination eating the lilies.”

You gasp and look towards Herbert. You clap your hands together loudly. “Herbert! No! They might be poisonous to you, and besides, they’re mommy’s!”

Alastor can’t help himself but laugh. “Mommy’s, you say?”

“I made him, I’m mommy!”

Maybe…maybe it was possible. You’re not a sinner, after all, and Charlie does exist…

Maybe he can give you fawns, bond you to him for all eternity, heat-death of the universe be damned.

Alastor chuckles, lets that thought slide by (for now). He whisks the lilies away before the little bastard can make himself sick and throws another apple at him. Herbert gasps softly, takes it, and back under the bed he goes.

“See?” Alastor says. “I am suitable.”

You smile at him softly. “Promise?”

“Yes, dear. I do promise. There are many things I can’t. We will continue to argue over pointless things, that’s already in the cards. We will bump heads and piss each other off. I will be jealous, I will certainly be possessive, but I will never express it to you in a way that makes you feel like a harlot. And I will try not to over-analyse every interaction with him. Perhaps I will never express it at all, that would be best, I know…

“And I will fail. And you will, too. We will have our… fuck-ups, as you often call them. However, for all the fuck-ups we ever had before, not a moment passed when I did not know that I loved you. You created space in me, made my lungs full. I cannot be without you now, and I think you…I think that you are the same. I hope you are the same.” He pauses. “Please, darling.”

You kiss him, and in that he understands your acceptance of this. Of him, his words, the explicit and implicit promises. Words were difficult sometimes.

He grabs you tightly and rides the dark to his bedroom, to the bed he made for you.

You break the kiss with an air of incredulity. “You know I hate when you shadow whoosh me!”

“And you know I have exactly one rule about where we are intimate.”

You sigh. “Not above Herbert’s nest.”

“Indeed. Not above Herbert’s nest.”

“And who said anything about being intimate?” you ask, a hint of mischief in your eyes.

He smirks. “There she is.”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” you say.

He grins, his eyes burning with a dark, sinful desire as he responds huskily, his lips against your ear. “Ah, my love, I want to do everything to you. I want to touch you, taste you, explore every inch of you until nothing exists to either of us except each other. I want to hear you moan and gasp my name, to make you feel things you've never felt before.”

You give him a wicked smile. “We should do that.”

He grows in agreement, his eyes burning with need and desire as he responds in a low, guttural voice. “We absolutely should. We will. I’m going to explore every inch of you, to make you feel things you've only dreamed of. Are you ready for that, my love?

He pulls you so that your back is snug against his chest, not a bit of space between your bodies. His clawed fingertips run from your knee all the way to your hip. He can hear that little gasp you try to hide, can feel that little shiver. The hem of your dress hiked up, his hand moves to cup your mound. He smirks to himself when he feels you rub against it.

“Be a good girl,” he murmurs against your ear, lips brushing against the shell of it. He rubs against your underwear for a few moments, allowing you to rock your hips against his hand, and oh, there it was again. Control. Control over you, the greatest prize of all, and you gave it to him so willingly.

His hand slides his hand inside your silken undergarments easily—ones that he bought for you. It’s gratifying as hell, almost as good as feeling your slick folds against his fingers. He blunts his fingertips and rubs against you.

Alastor’s teeth catch on your neck and he’s more than tempted to bite down, but not just yet. You moan and he relishes it.

“You like that?” he murmurs against your ear. “You love it, don’t you? Being a good girl for me.” Alastor uses his free arm to wrap around your hips to stop you from moving. “Now, be very good.”

You give a soft little whimper when he won’t let you move anymore, knowing you’re at his mercy when he’s in a mood like this. Fingers slide inside of you, his thumb rubbing over your clit.

“Be still, and be quiet,” he instructs, smiling against your ear.

He can sense the struggle almost as soon as he says it. That little tremble in your thighs. The hand that shoots up to cover your mouth.

“Oh, no dear,” Alastor says, pushing it away with his free hand. ”Don’t test me again. No cheating, no tricks. No magic, no power. Only me.”

Listening to you trying to contain all your little sounds is priceless. Alastor knows how to play your body like a Stradivarius. His fingers move lower, deeper.

“Who makes you feel like this?” he asks, sucking a dark mark against your neck.

You’re not sure if it’s a trick or not until his little ministrations pause, causing you to whimper again. “You!”

“Atta girl,” he says affectionately. “You’re so wet for me.”

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin, his chin rubbing against your neck as he kisses and teases you. "My love, I can feel. You like it, don't you? You like how I can make you fall apart in my hands, helpless to my touch."

He bites your neck softly, his teeth scraping against your skin.

You take a few shaky breaths. “Am I allowed to speak now?”

Alastor pauses, as if deliberating, and the lack of movement in his fingers is excruciating. Your pussy throbs at the loss, clenching around them, and you’re near the point of begging.

“No,” he says momentarily. “No, you are not allowed to speak yet. Good of you to ask, darling, but now is the time for you to listen, not to speak. Now, stand up.”

Confused, you manage to get up from his lap and stand one rubbery legs before him. Your eyes give the inquiry your lips cannot.

Alastor parts his knees wide and pulls you to straddle one of his thighs.

Oh!

Your cheeks warm and your jaw opens slightly. You almost shake your head, but Alastor reaches for your chin and holds it between his fingers. With his other hand, he grabs one of your hips and forces you to start moving, the grind against your wet, clothed pussy causing you to gasp.

“I’ve missed you in more ways than one,” he says, slapping you on the ass to encourage to ride his thigh on your own.

“It was my own fault, I know that,” he continues, and places both hands on your hips to support you as you move. “I was insane with jealousy, yes, and that is also my own fault. I cannot tolerate the mere notion that someone else would get to see you…like this. You are so very beautiful, darling. You are so very, very much mine.”

He could never let anyone else have you. He knew that he never would. Surprisingly, his possessive words seem to make you grind harder against him, your hips working more quickly. Alastor welcomes this with a grin.

“Ah, my dear.” His hands move from your waist to your ass, squeezing, making you moan for him again. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to let you fall. Come for me.”

Still unsure if you’re allowed to make any sound, you bite down on your lip hard, your eyes on his when a little golden rivulet drips from your poor, abused lip.

With a growl, Alastor lunges at you, though you are still in his lap. You fall down to the rug and he’s on top of you, licking up every trace of golden blood. Nothing could ever compare to it, he’d once said, and it turns him feral every single time he sees it or smells it. He kisses you, gently sucking at that tiny wound until it closes way too soon and his fist pounds the floor in anger. He raises his head, looks at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Okay, okay, but in bed,” you say.

Alastor picks you up quickly and tosses you onto it. He takes off his coat and throws it across the room. His bow tie is next, but you hold your hands out.

“Wait!” You say, reaching for him. “The shirt is my job.”

He grunts in his feral state, but he allows it, and soon his shirt is off and on the floor, forgotten.

“Where?” he asks raggedly.

“Where do you want?” you ask with a shrug. “This is your thing, but I’m happy to oblige. A bit. Not enough to make me dizzy.”

Permission granted, Alastor falls on top of you and goes straight for the jugular, literally. Just some sharp teeth and bam. He was drinking golden blood straight out of your neck, and you gave him the extra sensory delight of playing with his ears while he did so. He’s moaning, again and again, and you can feel how hard he is, pressed up against your body.

Eventually you decide he’s had enough and push his head away gently. Alastor kisses you instead, still giving animalistic energy, and rips away every article of clothing that separates you.

You can taste your own blood on his lips.

Somehow in this state Alastor remembers that he told you to come but didn’t let you and he quickly works to remedy that. His fingers enter you again. He knows your body well, he knows how to make you come in moments and you do, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Alastor finally leans back to look at the wreck he’s made of you and he smirks.

He holds one of your thighs against his waist and enters you fast, all at once, and the pace he sets is equally feral. Any time your blood came into the mix he truly could not help himself. His strokes are hard, deep, enough to make your knees wobble.

You hear him take a deep inhale and look up at him.

“My darling, the way you react to me, the way you react…Fit so perfectly, like your cunt was made just for my use.” Alastor bites at your neck again, but he won’t try to draw blood.

You grab one of the pillows and put it underneath your hips. This was an especially careful operation, considering how he was pounding you, but it tilted your hips and allowed for a more delicious angle.

Alastor’s clawed hand grabs your other thigh and squeezes hard. “What do you think, darling? Do you think this pretty little pussy was made for me?”

You nod several times, finding it harder and harder to catch your breath, but he’s without mercy this time. “Jesus…”

“Not an acceptable response, dearest,” he says with a little groan of exertion. He squeezes your thigh again. “Now, I believe I asked you a question. There’s only one correct answer, so give it to me.”

The sheets twist beneath your hands. There’s a decision to be made. Be forthwith and tell him yes or tease him until he’s out of his right mind.

“Damn it, darling,” he says impatiently.

You smirk. Let the teasing begin. “I don’t know.”

“What?” Alastor’s claws on your thigh almost drew more golden blood.

“You asked if my pussy was made just for you,” you say, your words coming out through pants because of his force.

His antlers grew larger, longer. His glare was menacing. His voice was dark.

“Then I suppose I must show you.”

The bed began to shake, and his tone shifted.

“Ah, my sweet darling, what I want to do to you right now is beyond description. I want to feel your softness, your warmth, your very essence against me, writhing under my touch. I want to take you, claim you, make you mine completely, with no doubting.”

“And how will you do that?” you ask playfully.

His hands grip you tighter, pulling you completely against him. He leans in, his lips trailing along your neck, his voice a low, dark growl in your ear.

“How will I do that, my sweet darling? I'm going to make you feel so good, make you scream from the pleasure of it. I'm going to kiss you, and touch you, and taste you, until you're so lost in pleasure you don't remember your own name or where you are.”

Your breath comes more and more harshly. “Did you soundproof the room?”

He gives you a look of pure incredulity. “Of course the room is soundproof! These precious little moans and gasps, they’re all mine, understand? Only I get to hear them, they belong to me!”

“Yes, yes!” You gulp for air.

“You do things to me, darling,” he says, “things that drive me absolutely wild. Your touch, your scent, your responsiveness, it all makes me ache and desperate for you. And you know it, don’t you?”

“I do my best.” You wink up at him. “Out of curiosity…what do I smell like?”

Alastor growls. “Ah, darling, you smell simply divine. I can't get enough of your soft, sweet scent. You smell like honey, like flowers, like the fresh air of a sunny day. It's intoxicating and completely addictive. I can't get enough of it, and I can't get enough of you. There will never be enough.”

“Keep me,” you whisper.

“Oh, darling,” he says. “Let there be no doubt in that. Yes, you're all mine. Mine to touch, mine to kiss, mine to have. I'm going to make sure you never forget that, darling. You're mine. Do you understand that?”

His hand comes up to gently squeeze at your throat, a warning.

You swallow, knowing he could feel every movement, and nod. “Yes, Alastor! Yes!”

His grip on your throat softens somewhat. “You just love to be under my control, don’t you?”

“I love being at your mercy,” you say with a moan.

“Is that so?” There’s a grin on his face that presses against his voice, dark and velvet. “And why is that? Tell me.”

Your eyes flutter closed. “Because I’m the only one safe at your mercy.”

“You’re right about that,” he says, pushing your thigh higher against your chest. “Look at you. Hair all mussed, lip swollen, bruises on your throat. And I did all of it. Tell me, darling. Tell me.”

“You did it. You did all of this to me, you’re the only one I want…”

That was what he truly wanted to hear, you knew. His jealousy is a problem and in all likelihood will continue to manifest itself, but at the root of it he just wanted to be the only one you had an appetite for. He fucks you harder and harder until you start screaming for him.

“Yes, yes,” he says, rubbing at your clit now. “Go on, make all of those beautiful, lascivious noises for me…”

You huff and gasp for breath. “Alastor, please, please let me come!”

He chuckles. “Yes, darling. That is the goal.”

When it hits you, you gasp first. Your hips grind against his, moving through it, along it, until it’s just too much—

But Alastor doesn’t stop. He holds you down, fucks you harder, draws it out for as long as he can. He smirks down at you as you shake for what he is doing to you—for you. His thumb circles your clit one last time before he’s finally merciful.

“So tight for me, darling,” he says, sucking the words between his teeth. It’s almost more than he can take, and he knows that it’s coming fast. He just…he needs something first.

He speaks in a gentler tone now, watching the bulge in your stomach move as he fucks you. “Darling…"

You’re still gasping for breath. “Yeah, honey? What is it?”

“Promise me that I’m…enough.”

“Enough?” You laugh, a raspy sound. “You’re too fucking much.”

Alastor lets out a gravelly moan, its intensity changing the pitch. You could almost swear that you can feel his cum inside you, all white and hot. When he finally stops moving, he leans against your thigh, chasing his breath.

“Bravo,” you say, putting your arms around him when he lays down beside you.

"I thought perhaps I had pleased you," he says, shuddering when you rub the base of his ears.

You laugh softly, breath finally caught. "Reconciled?"

Alastor nods. "Indeed. We are reconciled. If...you'll have me, anyway."

"I think that I will," you say, and from the corner of your eye, you see something on the wall and sit straight up, pointing. "That son of a bitch shadow of yours is stealing my feathers again!"

The smiling spectre flaunts his new feather and cuddles closer to your shadow. Maybe they were reconciled, as well.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiii Author :D this is actually my first request, but could I ask for homocipher (especially my bb MR Crawling 🥺) when you kiss them for the first time pls and thank u 🙏

Mr Crawling

Sweet boy is giggling, blushing and kicking his long ass legs after staying unsettlingly silent for five minutes.

He’s on cloud nine the moment you pressed your warm lips against his as sweetly as you did. He didn’t know what that thing you were doing exactly, kissing was a foreign concept to him but all he knows is that he wants you to do it again and again for eternity.

Kissing this cutie is a little sloppy when he’s trying to imitate you, but you can’t get mad at him when he’s smiling and giggling in happiness that he got to reciprocate the happiness you give him.

Seriously this man has become ten times more clingy as he’s smothering you in hugs while chirping and purring in your ear, nuzzling his face against your own.

Mr crawling will double, no triple you in affection and you’re legally not allowed to move until he’s done kissing every inch of your face and neck. He just wants to make you happy and if kissing is one way to do it then Mr Crawling will do it continuously and it’ll never get old.

He will honour the kiss forever and ever and ever.

Mr Scarletella

Captain of the S.S Delusional over here.

You’re not helping his obsession with you. Not one bit after kissing him lightly as now he fully thinks this is you accepting his love and affection, letting him inside your heart as your one and only.

So have fun trying to get him off your back when he’s muttering shit like ‘mine. Love. Mine. Love. Mine. Love’ under his breath as he towers over you as you realised that this man was near inescapable.

And I mean he’s inescapable the moment you gave him that innocent little kiss on his lips. He’s smiling to himself as he runs his fingertips over his lips, still feeling your own there as his mind creates scenarios where your sat in his lap, kissing him to your hearts content and confessing your love for him.

So if you thought he was bad before, he’s fucking worse now and there’s little chance of escaping him. So good luck with all that, you will need it.

He won’t do anything to his lips in fear he’d wipe your kiss away, he’s savouring it and has the memory framed in his head as his most precious moment.

Mr Silvair

Kissing is a concept he’s not privy to and so he’s seeing this as a potential experiment he could delve into deeper.

All for science is the motto for this dude I’m afraid. Mr Silvair doesn’t feel much outside of that and an occasional warmth that he pushes aside frequently.

He’ll probably ask you to do it again, not because he wanted you to but because he’s curious as to how each and every kiss feels, believing that each one has a different meaning behind them. He’d might even indulge in what sort of stimuli could trigger you to made such a bold move on your own accord.

So to him it wouldn’t mean as much as it would for you unfortunately but that’s not going to stop him from asking for more kisses, and or creating scenarios where kissing him was the ultimate goal, and all for science experimentation.

Totally not to satiate the need to feel the warmth those kisses gave him if only briefly. 👀👀

Mr Gap

This dude doesn’t want a kiss, he wants your heart and not in the romantic sense.

You kissing him felt weird and he didn’t know whether to like it or hate it. So he mostly stays indifferent.

Seriously he’ll experience the kiss, scrunch his face up and still ask for your heart. Affection doesn’t exist within this dude at the slightest, and if it did it’s not by very much at all.

So kissing him wouldn’t exactly do much and he wouldn’t bother to reciprocate either, he’s still as fuck too so you might as well be kissing a stone statue.

Seriously. I’m not joking. I wish I was but I’m not.

[itsabouttimex2]

Fun fact: In China, Chinese criminals were marked on their faces for life. Hot knives cut the flesh of prisoners, engraving characters on their foreheads. Later the ink was inserted into the open wounds to form words like “murderer”, “thief” and etc.

That’s such a morbidly neat fact, and thank your for sharing it with me! It actually got me looking around online, where I found a few articles about it!

It certainly provides some “encouragement” for Y/N to play along with whatever the kings want, after they tried to steal from the royal kitchen- there’s always the threat of a permanent criminal marking on the table.

(They wouldn’t actually do that to a kiddo, but Y/N doesn’t know that.)

Or worse- Y/N has already been punished for their former acts of theft, without the jurisdiction of either king who would have absolutely vetoed the notion of essentially mutilating a hungry child for stealing scraps from a graveyard or windowsill.

MK learning from his loving baba that only “bad people” get these tattoos and growing very, very upset no matter how his fathers try to comfort or soothe him, and for all they remind him that it “only happens to bad people”, it just pushes him closer and closer to the brink because-

“Y/N is not bad,” the boy wails, tears gushing from his big black eyes, sopping uselessly away into his golden father’s robe, both monkeys gently trying to comfort him.

“Shush, shush, shhh… Xiaotian, baby, please! No one said anything about Y/N!” Macaque tries to soothe, bouncing his son lightly.

“You did,” he bawls, kicking his little feet like any other toddler throwing a tantrum. “You did! Y-you said “bad people” have those tattoos! And- and- and Y/N is not bad!”

“Y/N has… someone gave them a penal tattoo?” Sun Wukong queries, unknowingly tightening his grip on the gilded handles of his throne. “…someone gave a starving orphan the mark of a dangerous criminal?”

“…I think we need to take a trip down to the village.”

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

Halo~~ can I request and Poly!Marauders (James, Sirius and Remus) x fem!reader? Where reader has recurring hypoglycemia and ends up standing the boys up on a date because her levels had been finicky all day and she forgot to tell them. So when they go find her to confront her about it they find her on the floor on like the verge of unconsciousness (or maybe she's already passed out) with dangerously low levels and help her like the good loving boyfriend's they are. Pretty please 🥺

Thank you for this request! I had fun with it, and I hope this works for you! 💞 Poly!marauders x fem!reader 💞 2.2k words

The sun dips lower in the sky, painting hues of lavender and pink across the horizon. It's the perfect backdrop for the evening you've been anticipating all week with James, Sirius, and Remus—a night filled with laughter and camaraderie. They've planned something big, no doubt; James has been jokingly boasting about his "romantic genius," while Sirius grins like a Cheshire cat and Remus rolls his eyes, though the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. Their good humour is infectious, and you can't help but look forward to whatever they have in store.

But today, your body doesn't seem to be on the same page as your mind. You've woken up with trembling hands and a light head, your blood sugar levels fluctuating in a way that makes your stomach churn. You're not new to hypoglycaemia—you've had episodes before, each one leaving you weak and shaky—but today it lingers, refusing to let go despite your best efforts to stabilise it. You push through, hoping to shake it off, but the fatigue clings to you like a second skin, weighing you down.

"Just a little rest," you tell yourself, sinking into the couch. "I'll feel better after."

Setting an alarm, you allow your eyes to flutter closed, promising yourself that it's only for a moment before you get ready. You know you should let the boys in on what's happening, but the thought of explaining—of offering up excuses yet again—seems too daunting. Too draining. Instead, you tell yourself it will pass. It always does. A quick nap should help; then you can join them, fresh-faced and ready for the evening's escapades.

---

The air is thick with tension at the small restaurant where you agreed to meet. James sits with his back to the wall, his foot tapping out a rhythm of worry against the table leg. He checks his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes, his brow furrowed.

"She's late," he mutters, though everyone at the table is painfully aware. "She's never late."

Sirius glances toward the door again, his usual swagger replaced by something more akin to concern. "Maybe she got held up," he offers, but there's a tightness in his voice that belies his nonchalant exterior.

Remus's eyes flicker between the two, worry etching deep lines in his already weary face. "She would've sent word if she couldn't make it—she always does."

James rubs a hand through his unruly hair, the action doing nothing to quell the unease that creeps into every crevice of his being. "That's what has me worried," he admits, gaze far off. "It's not like her to just... vanish."

"Then we should go and see for ourselves if she's all right," Remus suggests, rising from his seat. The chair scrapes against the floor, a grating sound that mirrors the tension threading through each man's veins. "Better safe than sorry."

"Agreed." Sirius pushes away from the table, his frame rigid with an intensity borne of concern. "Let's go."

Without another word, they leave the restaurant behind, its warmth and light becoming a distant memory as they step into the biting night air. Their footfalls echo down the empty streets, a testament to their shared apprehension.

The apartment is eerily still as they approach, the silence hanging heavy in the air like a shroud. Something about it feels wrong, disjointed, and Sirius is the first to cross the threshold, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y/N?" he calls out, his voice laced with both worry and hope. But there's no answer, just the echo of his own words bouncing off the walls.

James follows closely behind him, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of you. Remus brings up the rear, his gaze taking in every detail, a frown etching deep lines into his forehead.

"Over here!" James' shout breaks the tense quietude, his voice edged with panic. He's found you unconscious on the couch, your body too still. In an instant, he's at your side, dropping to his knees and pressing two fingers against your pulse point.

"She's breathing," he says, relief washing over him, but it's short-lived. "It's shallow, though. And her pulse... It's too fast."

Before he can say anything more, Remus is already moving, his long strides carrying him to the kitchen where the emergency kit is kept. His hands are steady as he reaches for the Baqsimi nasal spray, fingers deftly peeling away the red stripe that seals it. The lid comes off with a soft pop, revealing the small device within.

Sirius kneels beside James, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes lightly against your skin. His face is a mask of fear, guilt, and resolve. "Why didn't she tell us?" he murmurs more to himself than anyone else, the question hanging heavily in the air.

He turns to Remus, his grey eyes hardening. "Are you ready?"

"Always," Remus replies with a steady voice that belies the tremor in his hands. He positions the nozzle of the spray into one of your nostrils, his brow furrowed in concentration. "This should help. Just hold on."

With a gentle push, he depresses the plunger, watching as the green line marking the dose disappears. There's a collective holding of breaths as they wait for any sign of change.

"We've got to hope for the best," Sirius says, though his voice wavers slightly. "She'll pull through. She has to."

"Of course she will," James adds, his fingers tightening around yours, as if he could will you back to consciousness through sheer force of grip. His free hand finds your other cheek, his thumb tracing circles over the cool skin. "She's stronger than this."

Remus is already moving again, his long fingers sifting through the cupboards for the quick sugars he knows you keep on hand. He retrieves a carton of orange juice and a box of crackers, sparing no time in spreading peanut butter across the crackers and pouring out a glass of juice. Once prepared, he places the items on the low coffee table before sinking onto the edge of the couch. "We should give her these when she comes around."

The room falls into a tense silence as they wait, their gazes never straying far from your prone form. Sirius's hand hovers over your shoulder before finally making contact, his knuckles ghosting over the fabric of your shirt. His eyes, usually so full of mischief, are shadowed with concern. "She scared us," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

"More than that," James says, his tone gruff with unshed emotion. "I can't—"

His sentence hangs unfinished, the weight of it too heavy for words. Instead, he reaches out, brushing away a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch gentle, almost reverent.

And then, so faint it's nearly missed, there's a shift. A soft groan escapes your lips, barely audible but enough to cause their hearts to leap. Your eyelids flutter, struggling against the pull of unconsciousness.

"Finally," Sirius mutters, relief flooding his features even as his brows knit together in a scowl. "Took your sweet time, didn't you?"

James leans in closer, his breath hitching as your eyes begin to open. He presses a warm kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. "You're okay," he says, his words more of a prayer than a statement. "We've got you."

Sirius moves to help you sit up; his touch is steady, firm yet careful, like he's afraid you might shatter at any moment. The room spins slightly as you're lifted, but Sirius' presence is grounding, a reminder of reality amidst the haze of confusion.

"Easy there," Remus says, his voice soft yet commanding. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, not quite reaching his eyes, which remain clouded with concern. He picks up the glass from the coffee table, the contents sloshing gently.

"Here," Remus coaxes, holding the straw to your lips. "Take small sips, slowly."

The juice is cold and slightly tart in your mouth, a stark contrast to the warmth spreading from your core. You reach to hold the glass, but your hands shake, the tremors betraying the weakness you feel. Remus keeps his grip on the glass, steady as always.

You try to sit up straighter, to focus on the faces hovering around you, but every movement feels heavy, slow. The room tilts a little, and you wince, shutting your eyes. When you open them again, they're still there, all watching you, their expressions etched with concern.

"What..." Your voice is a raspy whisper, barely there. "What happened?"

"Scared the bloody hell out of us, you did," Sirius says, his tone equal parts relief and frustration. He leans back in his chair, passing a hand across his face. "We found you passed out. Your blood sugar was dangerously low."

"We used the nasal spray," Remus explains, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. "You're lucky it acted quickly."

Your brow furrows as you try to make sense of the day's events. "I—" You begin, but your throat constricts around the admission. "I didn't mean to..."

"We know," James says quietly, his hand covering yours where it rests on the cup. "But you need to tell us when you're not feeling well, love. We could've stepped in sooner."

"I didn't want to ruin the date," you mumble, guilt curdling in your stomach.

"Ruin?" Remus's eyebrows knit together. "That's not how this works." His tone is stern but laced with worry, not anger. "Your health comes first, always. You could have—" He stops, a grimace passing over his face as if the words themselves are painful. "You could have taken a turn for the worse before we found you."

"Exactly," Sirius interjects, his voice softer than before. "You don't spoil anything by telling us you need help. We love you, Y/N."

A lump forms in your throat as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You cast your gaze down to the cup of juice. "I'm sorry."

"Hey." James reaches out, gently tilting your chin up until you're looking at him. The concern in his hazel eyes is almost too much to bear. "No more apologies, all right? Just let us help you. That's what we want."

The corners of Sirius's mouth lift into a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head—a gesture that feels as much a promise as it does an act of care. "Exactly. You're not getting rid of us that easily, so you might as well let us look after you."

Remus chuckles softly, though there's a tightness in his shoulders that suggests he's far from relaxed. "And speaking of which—finish the juice. Then we'll get some food in you."

"I'm fine," you murmur, but it's a feeble protest at best.

James's grin is slight, more a quirk of the lips than a full smile, but it's there, a glimmer of light amid the shadows. He picks up a cracker spread with peanut butter and extends it towards you. "Come on, open up. Don't make me do the airplane noises."

Your lips quirk despite yourself, a response to James's levity. You take the offered morsel, and for a moment, the air in the room loosens, the tension fraying at its edges as they watch you eat.

Remus shakes his head, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You're lucky we look out for you."

"And you'll never hear the end of it," Sirius adds, his grin broadening. "We'll remind you every chance we get."

James lets out a quiet chuckle, but it quickly fades, replaced by a solemn expression. "Good," he says, his gaze steady on yours. "Because we won't let this happen again."

You finish the juice and crackers, every last crumb swept away, and as the warmth gradually returns to your body, so too does a sense of calm. James tucks a blanket around your shoulders, ensuring you're as comfortable as possible. Sirius settles beside you, his arm a steady presence around your shoulders while Remus remains at your feet, gently massaging your ankle.

James sits on the floor in front of you, his back resting against the edge of the coffee table. There's a tranquillity to him that wasn't there before, a resolution settling over his features. "You need to rest now," he tells you, not as an order but as a suggestion born from concern. "We'll stay."

"Staying?" The word slips out before you can stop it, a small voice daring to hope. "You're not leaving?"

"Absolutely not," Sirius says, his voice firm and unyielding. "We're staying here tonight. You won't be alone."

Remus's eyes lift to meet yours, meeting your gaze with a gentle warmth that defies the harsh reality of your situation. "Of course not," he replies, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Until you're fed up with us," James adds, his own grin small but genuine.

A weak chuckle escapes your lips, though it does little to alleviate the tension coiled in your chest. "I don't think that's possible."

And as sleep begins to pull you under, the last thing you feel is the pressure of Sirius's hand on your skin, grounding you in this new reality. The last thing you hear is James's voice, low and steady as he whispers, "Always."

[retroaria]

♡ "All the little things..."

⟡ itoshi rin | oliver aiku | michael kaiser ⟡

summary: gn!reader, things that they’d look for/love in a partner! pure fluff! (i do describe something as ‘sexy’ but it really isn't that serious)

˗ˏˋ written for arias 1.5k follower event! ˎˊ˗

he’d never admit it, but rin would want a partner who can take him down a few notches. someone to calm his nerves and balance out his animosity. he can come to you at the end of every match and immediately release all tension and frustration. but also, someone to ground him and his ego a bit off the field. someone who can remind him to take things slowly and relax when he can and should.

he’s secretly very attracted to kindness. it’s a weird thing to be secretive about but rin is a weird guy what can i say. it makes his heart flutter to see you treating others with such grace, it even tugs a small smile at the corners of his lips which he quickly tries to pull back down into his usual blank expression.

rin tends to be a more private person himself, and he likes others that can keep their peace in that same way. he wouldn’t want to tell the whole world about your relationship, not because he wants to keep you a secret, but because he feels like you’re relationship is even more special the more it exists only to serve the two of you. he likes the idea of having you all to himself.

as a runner up for sassiest man of the year (lost to kaiser lol), oliver tends to find that same snappiness attractive in other people as well. he loves someone who can speak their mind and be confident about it, someone who can stand their ground and not let themselves be belittled. he thinks it’s hot, sexy even.

he likes people that are more outgoing then he is. while oliver doesn’t usually shy away from any fun, he can tend to back out of things because he feels it may be “too much” or an over exertion. he wants someone who can push him out of his comfort zone and get him to try new things that he wouldn’t have otherwise done on his own.

out of the whole cast, oliver is probably one of the most comfortable in his own masculinity methinks. he loves doing self-care and other beautification rituals (lol) with you! would let you do his eyebrows, dye his hair, make him smell like a strawberry shortcake; he fucking loves it. “Can’t turn down a bit of TLC and relaxation” he’d say. he totally does call a lot of it “goop” and “slime” or “sticky stuff” and can only remember to categorize it by color. “Babe, come feel my face, that pink goopy stuff made it so soft.~”

similar to mr. aiku, kaiser also loves a bit of sass in his partners, in a more subtle way though. sarcasm and brutally honest humor make him wanna bark like a dog. he loves it. he’s like the girl in a romance manga that falls in love with the cold and stoic upperclassmen. wants to break your hard exterior, but also wants to be the only person who ever could.

he loves being on the receiving end of ‘acts of service’. if that’s your love language, he’s all for it. he already thanks you just for putting up with him on a daily basis - considers that an act of service lol. making him food or planning a date for him would make his heart swell to the point of explosion.

physical and emotional intimacy need to be a huge priority for him. similarly to how rin likes things to just be between him and his partner, kaiser also needs certain things to be private, though he's more than happy to let the whole world know you're the person he loves. as long as he gets to have those quiet tender moments with you, wrapped in each others arms, he's a happy boy.

dividers: @cafekitsune vv cute :3 | header by me !!

@bllk-tv

[wifewithasecret314]

Roommate's Dad

During my junior year of college, one of my roommate's dads was visiting for Dad's weekend. Since my dad couldn't make it this year, it was just a normal weekend for me. I had plans to get drunk and head downtown with some of my sorority sisters. As I finished getting dolled up and getting ready, my roommate and her dad had just gotten back from dinner, and he was dropping her off before heading back downtown to his hotel. Hearing that I was also headed that way, he kindly offered to give me a ride instead of grabbing an Uber.

Overall her dad was a pretty attractive guy. He was in his early 50s with your classic Dad bod and short facial hair. We chatted casually about his daughter and college during the ride, but as we approached downtown, I started to wonder if I should have some fun with the situation. Odds were that I would end up with a guy from the club that evening so why not try something new? It also helped that I was already pretty drunk at this point from pregaming... Seeing his hotel ahead, I turned to him and asked, "Do you want to take me to your hotel room?" Now, this wasn't a fair question given what I was wearing, and without a word he pulled into the hotel parking lot.

We got out of his car and he led me to his room in silence. If anyone saw us walking together, they probably thought I was a prostitute; some fit college girl young enough to be this man's daughter dressed in high heels and a short fuck-me skirt.

Upon entering his room, I walked straight to the bed. I pulled up my short skirt, bent over the bed, and looked back at him with my best fuck-me eyes. He called me a naughty girl and then walked over to the bed, grabbed my ass and pushed me down onto my stomach before he started devouring my pussy from behind. His facial hair felt so good rubbing against my skin as his tongue flickered around my clit. I knew immediately that I had made the right decision.

Once he made me cum all over his face, we both paused to take off the rest of our clothes. He stood there at the edge of the bed with his hard cock just inches in front of my face while I kneeled on all fours looking up at him. I asked him what his wife would think of him fucking his daughter's friend. Taking his big daddy cock in his hand, he slapped it against my face before shoving it in my little mouth without uttering a response. He proceeded to grab my hair and fuck my little mouth.

Once he was satisfied, he pulled my mouth off his cock and laid down on the bed. I proceeded to suck his cock some more before climbing on top of him. He grabbed my tight college ass in his hands and bounced me on his cock. I don't know what it is about older men, but they always make you cum so hard. I proceeded to ask him how my tight body compared to his wife's while he fucked me from below. He remained nearly silent the whole time which only made me tease him more and more.

After riding him for a while, he pushed me off his cock and leaned me against the head board. He proceeded to grab me by the hips and pound my little ass from behind. At this point I had cum more times than I could count. Turning back to look at him, I asked him if he liked fucking his daughter's best friend. Finally getting through to him, he grabbed me by the neck and pushed my head down into the pillows. His whole body weight slapping against my ass while I moaned like a whore. I'm sure all of the neighbors could have heard my screams.

Thoroughly exhausted from the sheer number of orgasms, I could tell that he was getting close. Looking back at him with my big blue eyes, I told him, "Cum on my face, daddy," He pulled out and let out a moan as he came all over my pretty little face.

After cleaning myself up in the bathroom, I got dressed and walked over to the club where my sorority sisters were sure to be waiting. On my way out the door, I turned back to him and said, "Thanks Mr. XXX! Can't wait until the next time you visit."

That was the only time anything happened between us unfortunately... The next time that I got to see him was at graduation when both he and his wife visited. I made sure to remind him how great it was to meet him during Dad's weekend right in front of her. Fortunately, neither his wife or daughter ever found out and that night

[dietcokegirly12]

im sorry to bother you but I love your writing sm... could you do a nikolai one or a threesome with fyolai

“Pent-Up”

featuring fyodor doestovsky and nikolai gogol ִ ࣪𖤐

.˚₊‧ ─── ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🎪ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ─── ‧₊˚. ─── ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🎪ɞ˚‧

art credits: pinterest ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

.˚₊‧ ─── ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🎪ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ─── ‧₊˚. ─── ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🎪ɞ˚‧

a/n note: thank you anon for this req omg, i had so much fun with it (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) also dw i'm gonna release an only nikolai fic laterrr!

keep in mind, reader replaces dazai in the prison arc (っˆڡˆς)

tags: threesome, cowgirl double penetration, mutual masturbation, anal, unprotected sex, teasing, slight degrading, squirting, humping(?), mention of death, mention of oral (fem) at the end, etc etc

word count: 2.5k

🂱🂳🂶 ── ⋅ 🂱🂳🂶 ── ⋅ 🂱🂳🂶 ── ⋅ 🂱🂳🂶 ── ⋅ 🂱

who knew being trapped in the most secure prison to ever exist could leave you so pent-up?

it had been eight months since you had last seen the light of day, and eight months since you had been touched by anyone but yourself.

and it was getting unbearable.

the only solace you had was the man in the cell across from yours, fyodor doestovsky.

as a former member of the port mafia, and a current member of the detective agency with a long list of crimes to your name, in all the commotion, you had been arrested by the hunting dogs and placed in the secure space across from his.

and as the days turned to weeks, and eventually you lost all track of time and what was happening in the outside world, he proved the only one you found comfort in.

through thick and thin, and no matter what, he was always there.

which obviously, he couldn't leave, but just the fact he would entertain you when the days seemed to blend together, and always would comfort you when you had one of your inevitable panic attacks from spending too long in confinement, meant the world.

and of course, being enclosed as you were, always in clear sight of the other, he really was always there.

whether it be when you were eating, or sleeping, or changing, or even.. masturbating.

and truly, when it happened, you hadn't meant for him to see, or even hear you. but you should've known you couldn't hide anything from a man with fyodor's capabilities.

it had been eight miserable months in the prison cell, and you were desperately craving physical touch. you practically ached for intimacy. so... you took matters into your own hands.

with a hand between your plush thighs, panties halfway to the side, and your back arched upward from your front-facing bed, you were doing something incredibly risky but you couldn't bring yourself to care, too lost in the haze of pleasure you were giving yourself.

"mmph.. hah.. f-feels so good," you moaned, picturing it was someone else's fingers toying with your clit languidly. someone else who was right in the cell across yours.

picking up speed in your rubbing, you squeeze your legs together, eliciting a small whimper as you feel yourself getting closer.

and just as you think you're going to be able to push yourself over the edge, and relieve all the tension that's been plaguing you for the past few weeks... nothing.

with a small frustrated groan, you turn over, pulling your fingers out in defeat.

now you were right back where you started, still incredibly horny, only with the addition of now being wet and throbbing, unable to finish on your own.

"need some help over there, myshka?"

you gasp, bolting upright and in the process, let the blanket fall off your body to reveal your bare breasts, and lower stomach.

“shit!”

fyodor simply watches with an amused look as you rush to cover yourself, quickly pulling your covers up to your chin.

“no need to be shy now, darling.”

“fedyaaa..” you whine out, cheeks tinted pink. “y’weren’t s’posed to see that.”

he smirks at that. “oh? then who was?”

you flush, turning away to drape the blankets over yourself, hot all over with embarrassment.

a few seconds later however, the quiet sounds of squelching fill the air, and confused you turn around, unsure what he’s doing.

nothing can prepare you for the sight that awaits you however.

fyodor’s pale hand wrapped tightly around his narrow cock, pumping up and down slowly as his eyes lock on yours, a coy smile curling the corners of his lips upward.

the first thought you have is that he’s long. longer than you’d be able to take, you bet, not that there was much likelihood of that trapped in confinement.

as you ogle at him with wide eyes, mouth agape, he purposefully lets out a drawn-out moan, his head tilting back in pleasure.

before you can stop yourself, you find your hand disappearing back between your thighs, desperately rubbing to get yourself off from the sight of him.

his eyes are closed, but his mouth tilts up, like he can sense what you're doing.

your cunt flutters at the sight of him so exposed like you'd never seen him, and you feel more arousal seeping out of you.

speeding up, you circle a finger around your sopping entrance before plunging in and out, sloppily lewd sounds ensuing.

reaching one hand up, you squeeze your breasts, panting softly as you imagine that it's fyodor's hands doing it rather than yours.

your stomach curls up into tight little knots, and your breathing heaves as you feel yourself finally drawing closer to tipping over the edge.

"say something to me fedya. please?"

he chuckles softly, voice slightly breathier than usual as he whispers out, "fucking filthy girl. jerking off to me while you think i'm asleep, hoping i wouldn't notice, hm?"

and it's then that you can't hold back anymore, soft cries of his name leaving you as you twitch and shudder, drenching your hand and thighs in your slick.

and you can't see it, but you know fyodor finishes close behind as soft, guttural groans leave his throat before he lapses back into silence, broken only by the sound of your combined soft breaths.

you had been facing up at the ceiling for most of it, and as you turn over to your side to face fyodor, you see he's already on his side, looking at you.

"as soon as we get out of here, myshka, i'm going to fuck you senseless."

your heart rate increases as you stare at him, lips slightly parted.

"these eight months of confinement so close, yet so far from you have been torture. i don't care who, or what is around us, i'm going to take you and finally make you mine."

you blush, already feeling needy between your legs again just from his words. "as soon as we get out.." you agree.

.˚₊‧˗ ─── 🗝⟢ ₊˚ ꗃ ─── ˗‧₊˚. ─── 🗝⟢ ₊˚ ꗃ

the next morning, you're awoken by loud shouting.

immediately sitting upright, you look over to fyodor's cell, but he's gone.

"hey!" you swing your feet over the side of the bed and are just about to stand up when suddenly the floor drops from under you, and you fall straight through.

you land with a harsh thump! on the hard floor in a foreign area, a tall man wearing striped pants and a white braid leering down at you. "so, you're the one who captured fyodor's heart while he was captured?" he laughs at his own joke before extending a hand to you, a sly grin on his face, one scarred eye shamelessly checking you out.

fyodor stands beside him, rolling his eyes at his companion, still dressed in his white prison uniform with his hands folded across his chest impatiently.

around them were several mangled bodies piled up, guards you assumed.

it was obvious this had been planned. they had clearly been in communication. and yet... what was it that fyodor had said last night? that it didn't matter who or what was around, he was going to take you as his anyway...?

you're startled out of your thoughts at the feeling of cold hands snaking around your waist, bringing you face-to-face with the man you had longed for in confinement for so long.

and now here he was.

touching you.

after being deprived of him for so long, you could care less whether his friend was there to watch or not, and without hesitance you throw your arms over his shoulders and smash your lips onto his, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.

his mouth is cool on yours, and tastes faintly of something heavy and intoxicating, the slightly musky flavor invading your senses until you were practically drowning in it.

with one finger, he tilts your chin upward, and places light kisses down your jaw, tongue darting out occasionally to taste your skin, making you groan in pleasure at the feeling.

and it's then that you feel the warmth of someone pressing into you from behind, and two arms wrapping around your waist.

you gasp softly, trying to move away and unintentionally backing your ass up further into the man behind you, causing him to let out a soft groan.

fyodor chuckles, pulling away to cup your face gently. "it's okay. he won't bite."

swallowing, you stare up at fyodor questioningly.

but before he can answer, the one behind you leans forward, breath tickling your ear. "name's nikolai. but you can call me kolya, little dove."

"i've been telling him about you, my cellmate, for a while now after finding a way to communicate to the outside world, and he agreed to break us out of here on one condition..."

suddenly, nikolai's hands which had been resting at your front begin to slide up your body as fyodor speaks, large palms coming to cup your breasts through your shirt, causing a small involuntary whine to slip out of you, slightly grinding your ass back against him.

"...he gets to fuck you too."

heat pools low in your tummy and you desperately nod in agreement, eager to feel both of their hands on you, giddy with the promise of finally being touched. "please."

nikolai laughs from behind you, hands squeezing tighter around your tits. "seems she doesn't mind having us both, greedy girl."

you whimper softly, leaning back on nikolai as you guide fyodor's hands to between your legs needily, not willing to waste another second.

"someone's eager." fyodor teases, lightly brushing his long fingers along your inner thighs, achingly close to where heat radiates from between them.

however, for all his taunting, he's not faring much better than you, his pants tented from the impressive bulge straining against them.

"someone's eager.." you mock back, one hand reaching out to splay across his painfully hard cock.

with a hiss, hips bucking into your touch, his eyes turn feral, voice dropping dangerously low. "take off your pants. now."

as you quickly obey, nikolai's hands slide down to help you, leisurely pulling them down past your hips until you're in nothing but your panties sandwiched in between them.

quickly, they shift you so you're straddling fyodor's chest, with nikolai behind.

"think you can take us both, dove? i don't want to wait any longer." nikolai purrs out, eye glinting.

as you nod in affirmation, they instantly begin to move as one, fyodor spreading open your thighs as nikolai's hands come to your hips, rutting against your ass slightly.

desperate to feel you for the first time, fyodor's already pulling down his pants to reveal his cock, flushed a pale pink and dripping with pre-cum. it's so long it reaches halfway up his stomach and is even prettier up close.

before you even get the chance to marvel at him, however, he's already lining himself up and pushing in. "myshka, you have no idea how long i've dreamt of having you like this."

all you can do is grip tightly onto his shoulders, soft gasps leaving you at the stretch of him pushing deep inside you.

his cock has a mean curve to it, one that has you dizzy as it reaches all the way to brushing your cervix, without even moving.

there's shuffling behind you as nikolai undresses, and before you can even adjust to having fyodor's cock nestled into your snug walls, his tip is prodding insistently at your hole.

expertly, he reaches one nimble hand to your front, toying with your pulsing clit languidly, and completely covering his hand in your slick before pumping his cock with it a few times as lube.

and where fyodor was impressively long... nikolai was impressively thick.

obscenely so.

his shaft was girthy, and lined with thumping veins and ridges, precum pearling at the slit tantalizingly.

and if you thought you were full before...

the second even an inch of his heavy cock started to push its way inside you, his hands holding your hips steady from behind, you swear you're seeing stars.

"fuck! s'too much! i-it's not all g-gonna fit!" you cry out desperately, squirming in fyodor's grasp as nikolai grunts from behind.

"yes it is.. take it. take it all like a good little slut." fyodor's fingers come to rub circles over your clit to get you to loosen up more for them, accented voice smooth as velvet.

"kolya! y'er so.. so big!" you gasp as he giggles slightly from behind, pushing you forward onto fyodor enough to lift your ass higher.

"hm, is that so? that's not even all of it yet.." and with that, he pulls back before snapping his hips into you, bullying the rest of his thick cock into you in one harsh thrust.

you squeal, falling forward onto fyodor who simply hums, before starting an absolutely brutal pace, meant to completely ravage your poor pussy.

nikolai also begins to thrust into you from behind, barely even giving you time to adjust to his sheer size before you're ping-ponging back and forth between the two, the filthy sounds of skin against skin filling the air.

with the force of their thrusts, your breasts are jiggling, and eagerly fyodor takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, tongue laving tantalizingly around the hardened bud.

you moan, arching up as you quickly tangle your fingers into his dark hair, nikolai groaning behind you.

you know you're not going to last long, not with the way you've been dreaming of this for months, so in an effort to not cum too early, you try to crawl upward and away from their drilling cocks, but nikolai is having none of that, quickly pulling you back to sink even more of him inside you, a small tsk tsk leaving him.

"where you going, little dove?"

you whimper softly in reply, eyes shutting tightly as you try to fight the wave of oncoming pleasure threatening to crash over you. "kolya... fedya.. hmph c-can't.. m'gonna!"

and before you even realize what's happening, your body convulses as with a shudder, you squirt, gushing your release out all over the two, as wave after wave of blinding white pleasure hits you, leaving you a dripping, soaked, mewling mess when you're finally done, panting for breath.

"бля! какая у тебя грязная пизда!" ("Fuck! Such a filthy pussy you have!")

fyodor's words come out in frantic, slurred russian, his only warning before he's spurting load after load of creamy, white ropes into your abused cunt, some of it seeping out to puddle around you.

nikolai follows quickly, a loud throaty groan slipping out from him as more hot ribbons of cum paint your insides white, cock throbbing as he empties himself in you.

and as you all collapse into a heap of sticky, glistening bodies, your faces sweat-sheened and blissed-out, you feel someone nestling between your thighs.

looking down, you see nikolai's head pressed between your legs, eyes closed peacefully.

"kolya..." you warn, voice slightly ragged.

he smiles mischievously. "what? 'm resting!"

as you relent, settling back down, your thighs are pushed open suddenly and a hot mouth instantly latches onto your leaking cunt.

"gotta clean you up..."

and it’s then, you feel another mouth eagerly join.

tagslist (ask to be tagged!<3): @bokukenmakuroo @newnlovesjennie

[soo0hee]

Fun Time

Pairing — Chwe Hansol x afab!Reader

Summary — Visiting your brother you met one of his member. To bad that you liked to have a little fun... Requested by @cyd0129 , i hope you like it!

Genre — fluff

Warnings — none

Word Count — 1.1k

Rating — sfw

A/N — @tusswrites & @svtiddiess thanks for brainstorming this with me <3

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

Visiting your brother at his job was always fun. Watching him turn simple melodies and beats into full fledged songs that would maybe, possibly, end up on an album of their group always gave you a sense of calmness that you rarely ever got to feel.

And while the Universe Factory was almost like a meeting point of Seventeen members, you had never gotten to meet every single one of them. It was funny almost but Woozi had always been a little mysterious when it came to his family, so neither you, nor the members who knew about you were surprised about their producer keeping this detail to himself.

And Woozi wanted to protect himself from the chaos that was doomed to happen if you and certain members of his were to ever meet eachother.

To protect his piece of mind, is what he told you once over dinner at your apartment. You had cackled at his serious expression but accepted his reasoning knowing that you indeed could be a little menace if you wanted to.

With your from your brother requester personal lanyard dangling from your neck and bubble tea in your hand you walked through the lobby of the Hybe Building. It surprised you how well recognition system worked as you remembered last times visit where you had needed almost 20 minutes and a staff members help to actually get inside.

Walking up to the elevator with your earbuds blasting music straight into your brain, you took out your phone to text your brother of your incoming arrival when you noticed the text he had send you a bit ago.

Universe Factory is empty. Am in Studio 7. Meet me there? – received 2:31 pm

For a moment your brain blanked just as the Elevator arrived with a Ding.

The Universe Factory you knew where to find, Studio 717 however you had no idea. It was a practice room, that much you knew, but when it came to the location, you were absolutely lost.

Maybe you should ask someone? One of the staffs? No, they had already stared like you had frown to heads when you walked in with your own Lanyard! There was no need for you to receive those stares a second time.

So you pressed the Button with the number 7, hoping that the first number of the studio was the indicator of the Level you had to go to.

The doors closed and you went up just to stop at the second floor.

A familiar face appeared behind the door. A face that you had seen a million times already on press pictures, photo shootings or the group selcas Woozi loved to send you every then and now.

A few that had yet to meet you however.

Vernon was one of those members that you were being hidden from, until now.

The hip hop team maknae only nodded in acknowledgement, eyes fixed on the lanyard to verify that you had the right to be there.

He pushed the button to the 9th floor.

“You going to the finance department?” Vernon asked smoothly in korean.

An idea struck you that couldn’t passed up.

Fanning confusion you stared back at him and answered in perfect English with, “I’m sorry, what?”

It took Vernon a second to make the switch in language before asking again if you were going to the finance department. This time in english.

“Uhm, no. I was actually searching for the Studios… I have an appointment there.” You said without feeling bad for lying, internally groaning that your hopes of your destination being on the 7th floor had been crushed just like that.

“The Studios are on the 8th floor.” Vernon answered, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

That one you knew. But-

“And the practice rooms? I need to be in 717 to meet someone.”

Now that made the Rapper curious. 717 was their Practice room! What was a stranger like doing in their practice room?!

Admittedly, a very beautiful stranger, but a stranger none the less.

“Uhmm, I could take you? It’s where I’m headed right now! But only if you tell me what kind of business you have there.” He offered. You could clearly hear the teasing tilt in his voice.

You played along.

“I’m a new choreographer. They called me to take a look at a choreography for what I’m guessing is your group if you are headed there. Preparation for a new comeback?”

The elevators door opened on the 7th floor.

Vernon swallowed. A new choreographer meant changes to the already existing choreo and he prayed that wasn’t the case.

The elevator closed.

He hummed quietly, agreeing with the last part.

“Yeah, I’m from Seventeen. Vernon.”

“Nice to meet you Vernon. I’m y/n. Pleased to meet you.” You grinned and bit your lip to prevent laughing out loud at the dumbfound face he made.

Vernon on the other hand had trouble to keep his composure. Something about the way you smiled at him and the accent of your English had his ears heat up.

Once the Elevator opened again, he almost fled out into the hallway while you slowly followed with a snicker hidden by your head over your mouth.

“This way please!”

The member od Seventeen were known to be a magnet for chaos and this was proven again when you could hear the loud screams of who you guessed would be Seokmin and Mingyu behind the closed door.

Vernon snorted at the sounds his members made inside. Reminding him of a seal at times like this.

Like a gentleman Vernon opened the door and let you inside. There were only a few members of the group, one being your brother and almost none of the staff.

“Did someone know that we have a new chorographer?” he yelled in korean towards the guys, thinking that you weren’t able to understand him like this.

It was comical how fast all heads whipped around to stare at him.

Woozi groaned upon seeing you standing behind Vernon while grinning like a cat.

The few members who had recognized you smiled in amusement.

“Aish! Lee y/n! Did you prank him? Vernon-ah, this isn’t a choreographer. She’s my sister.” The producer sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Ah Jihoon-ah, why rat me out so fast?” you complained with a whine.

Vernon, confused and a little dazed at the turn of events had to pick his jaw up from the floor. Stammering at you with a pout. Joshua patted his back while passing him.

“I see you have met y/n.”

“She- she’s not a-“

“All she is, is a brat!” Jihoon answered and slapped the back of your head gently with his bag slung over his shoulder, ready to leave.

“You’re no fun Jihoon-ah.” You called after him.

“Just come with me so we can get some food!” was the response echoing from the hallway.

You turned back to Vernon.

“It was nice to meet you, Vernon. I hope I’ll see you soon.”

With a wink and a flip of your hair you were out the door and gone.

The American slowly turned to Seokmin who didn’t bother holding back his laughter.

“And? What do you say?”

“Hyung…” the younger forced out star struck. “I think I’m in love…”

[rootedinrevisions]

No Nut November...or Not

SUMMARY: When a harmless bar conversation turns into a bet about who can last the longest during No Nut November, the stakes are set. They both assume they can outlast the other without breaking a sweat. What they don’t anticipate is you–their mischievous partner–who takes it as a personal challenge to make the month as impossible as humanly possible. Because why should they get to have all the fun?

A/N: Thank you so much to the Nonny who sent in this request! This one is a little more outside my comfort zone than what I normally write, but I think it turned out okay. Please let me know how you feel about it!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT. (Lingerie, Spanking, Slight Dom, Unprotected Sex (be responsible people), P in V (reverse cowgirl), Voyeurism/Exhibitionism (not sure if this counts in a poly relationship but including it in case)

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The Hard Deck was alive with its usual hum of chatter and laughter, the jukebox belting out an old rock anthem. You leaned back in your chair, nursing a cold beer as you watched Jake and Bradley settle into their usual rhythm.

Jake smirked, his signature cocky grin firmly in place as he tipped his bottle toward Bradley. “Face it, Bradshaw, you just can’t handle the pressure. That’s why I’m better at pretty much everything.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, though the twitch of his jaw betrayed his annoyance. “You keep telling yourself that, Bagman. Last time I checked, you couldn’t keep up with me in the air…let alone other places.”

His gaze then shifted to you and he shot you a wink. You hid your smile behind your bottle, enjoying the way their bickering played out like clockwork. It was endearing in its own way, how the two of them always seemed to push each other just to prove who could come out on top.

“Alright, alright,” you interjected, setting your drink down and tilting your head at them. “What’s it going to be this time? Another darts match? Arm wrestling in the middle of Penny’s bar?”

“Don’t even think about it boys,” she interjects from behind the bar causing your lips to curve into a smirk.

Jake turned to you with a gleam in his eye, his grin widening. “Nah, that would be too easy, sweetheart. I’m thinking something better. Something that requires real willpower.”

Bradley scoffed, but there was a flicker of curiosity on his face. “What are you thinking, Hangman?”

Jake leaned forward, bracing one elbow on the table. “No Nut November.”

The words hung in the air for a beat before you burst out laughing, nearly spilling your beer. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m dead serious.” Jake looked over at Bradley, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Think you’ve got the guts to keep it together for a whole month, Bradshaw? Or are you gonna fold like you always do?”

Bradley narrowed his eyes, his lips curving into a slow, confident smile. “You’re on. But don’t come crying to me when you lose after, what, three days?”

“Three days?” Jake repeated mock outrage in his tone. “I’ve got steel discipline, Bradshaw. You’re the one who’s always got his head in the clouds.”

“Oh, this is good,” you said, shaking your head in amusement. You could already tell where this was headed, and it was going to be entertaining, to say the least

“What’s the wager?” Bradley asked, his eyes not leaving Jake.

“The usual,” Jake said with a shrug. “Loser has to do whatever the winner says. No complaints, no excuses.”

Bradley nodded, extending his hand across the table. “Deal.”

They shook on it, their grips firm and their gazes locked in mutual defiance. You snipped your beer, biting back a grin as an idea began to form in your mind.

If they were really going to go through with this, you might as well make it interesting. After all, wasn’t it your duty as their partner to keep them on their toes?

“I hope you two are ready,” you said, your voice deceptively sweet as you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Because I’m not about to make this easy for either of you.”

Jake arched a brow, his smirk faltering just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Bradley’s eyes flicked to yours, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension flashing across his face. But neither of them had the chance to respond before you stood, finishing the last of your drink and setting the bottle down with a soft clink.

“Good luck, boys,” you said, giving them a wink before walking away.

Behind you, you could hear Jake muttering, “What the hell does that mean?”

The next evening, the glow of the Hard Deck’s neon lights and the buzz of competitive banter were a distant memory. In their place was the soft hum of music drifting from the living room speaker and the warmth of home-cooked comfort filling the air.

Jake and Bradley’s off-base apartment had always been a haven of sorts—a space where the three of you could unwind, trading the chaos of your days for shared laughter and easy companionship, and a lot of physicality. Tonight was no different.

You stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and a grin tugging at your lips as you recalled the way Jake and Bradley had shaken on their bet the night before, each so sure of their resolve. It was all in good fun, of course, but watching them try to outlast each other was going to be a source of endless entertainment. Especially if you had anything to say about it.

The smell of garlic and herbs filled the cozy apartment kitchen as you stirred a simmering pot on the stove. Bradley leaned beside you, chopping vegetables with steady precision, while Jake stood at the counter, tossing together a salad. It was a rare quiet evening for the three of you, the kind of domestic tranquility that felt all the more special amidst the chaos of naval schedules.

You glanced at Bradley out of the corner of your eye. He was focused on his task, the rhythmic thwack of the knife against the cutting board filling the space between the three of you.

Setting the spoon aside, you turned toward him, brushing your hand lightly along the small of his back as you reached for the bowl beside him. “Thanks for helping out,” you said, your voice casual but laced with a subtle warmth.

“No problem,” Bradley replied, his tone as calm as ever. He didn’t look up from the cutting board, his focus unbroken.

Undeterred, you let your fingers linger a moment longer than necessary before pulling away, casually brushing against his forearm as you leaned over to grab a kitchen towel. Still no reaction—though you noticed the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

From across the kitchen, Jake chuckled softly. You looked over your shoulder to find him watching with a smug grin, one eyebrow raised as if to say, “Really? Is that all you’ve got?”

Game on.

Turning back to Bradley, you stepped closer, reaching for the bowl of chopped veggies just as he finished. 

“Let me get that,” you said, letting your fingers trail along his wrist as you took the bowl from him. This time, there was the faintest flicker of something in his expression, but he quickly masked it, his lips curving into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Thanks,” you said sweetly, placing the bowl on the counter and brushing past Jake on your way to the fridge.

You could feel his eyes on you, but he didn’t say a word, his hands continuing to toss the salad with deliberate nonchalance. Smiling to yourself, you opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle of wine, taking your time as you returned to the counter.

Jake didn’t react when you sidled up beside him, leaning slightly against his arm as you reached for a corkscrew. But when your fingers brushed his wrist—lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his skin—his hands faltered, sending a stray piece of lettuce tumbling onto the floor.

“Oops,” you murmured, hiding your grin as you grabbed the corkscrew and stepped back. You almost painfully slow, bent down to pick up the lettuce, making sure the skirt you were wearing slid up giving Jake just the tiniest glimpse of the frilly lace of your underwear peeking out at him.

Jake shot you a look, his smirk slipping for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. 

“Careful there, darlin’,” he said, his voice smooth but with a slight edge as his hand moved to your hip.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Bradley glancing over, his smirk now firmly in place. “What’s wrong, Seresin? You’re not getting distracted, are you?”

Jake’s jaw tightened just enough for you to notice, and you bit back a laugh, turning your attention back to the wine. 

“Oh, don’t tease him, Bradshaw,” you said innocently, pouring three glasses with careful precision. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he said nothing, instead focusing intently on his salad as if it were the most important task in the world.

You smiled to yourself, setting the glasses on the counter. This was going to be even more fun than you thought.

Dinner was ready not long after, and the three of you settled at the small dining table tucked against the window. The kitchen lights cast a soft glow over the scene, the faint hum of music still playing in the background. Plates were filled with the fruits of your collective labor: roasted chicken, sautéed vegetables, and a fresh salad that Jake had insisted was “restaurant-quality.”

You took the first bite, savoring the flavors as they hit your tongue. But instead of keeping the reaction to yourself, you let out a quiet, almost breathy moan, closing your eyes as though the simple taste of the meal was enough to send you to heaven.

When you opened your eyes, you caught both Jake and Bradley staring, their forks paused midair. Their gazes flicked to each other in a brief, wordless exchange before they simultaneously looked down at their plates, the muscles in their jaws tensing as they focused a little too intently on their food.

Suppressing a grin, you stabbed another piece of chicken with your fork, dragging it slowly through the sauce before taking another bite, this time pulling the utensil from your lips with an exaggerated slowness. You made sure the movement was subtle enough to seem natural—just enough to plant the idea without making it obvious.

The effect was immediate. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake shift in his seat, adjusting his posture in a way that suggested he was trying to ignore you. Across from him, Bradley chewed with deliberate focus, his expression unreadable except for the faint tightness in his jaw.

“Everything okay?” you asked innocently, looking between the two of them.

“Fine,” Jake said quickly, his tone light but clipped. He took a long drink of water, his eyes trained firmly on his plate as if it held the answers to all of life’s mysteries.

“Yeah, fine,” Bradley echoed, though his voice carried a hint of strain as he reached for the salad bowl, pretending to busy himself with serving more.

You leaned back in your chair, letting the silence settle for a moment before leaning forward again, your fingers brushing against the edge of your fork. There was a bit of sauce clinging to the tip, and instead of reaching for a napkin, you raised the utensil to your lips, your tongue darting out to catch the stray droplet.

It wasn’t dramatic—barely more than a flick—but the tension in the room crackled like static electricity. Jake’s fork clattered against his plate, and Bradley muttered something under his breath, though neither of them said anything directly.

Satisfied, you straightened in your chair and continued eating, keeping your movements deliberately slow and casual. You were playing the long game, after all, and the night was still young.

The evening stretched on, the kind of Saturday night that carried the promise of an easygoing, relaxed vibe. But the air between the three of you had changed. Every glance, every subtle movement felt charged, as if all the teasing from dinner was quietly simmering beneath the surface, waiting for something to tip it over the edge.

As the game time drew near, you decided to take a break, excusing yourself with a casual, “I’ll be right back. Gonna get comfy for the game.”

Jake barely looked up, his attention already focused on the TV screen as he pulled up the Longhorns' game schedule. Bradley nodded absently, taking another sip of his beer.

You made your way toward Jake’s bedroom. His closet door creaked open, and you moved quickly, your fingers brushing past the shirts hanging neatly in a row until you found it—the burnt orange jersey. You had no intention of wearing it the traditional way, though.

Next, you turned your attention to the bottom drawer of Jake’s dresser. The one that, over time, had become a place for a few of your things—your stuff from nights spent at their place, the clothes you didn’t mind leaving behind. You sifted through the familiar pile, your fingers grazing the fabric until you found what you were looking for. The lacy black thong with the satin bow on the back, a gift from Bradley on your birthday last year.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stripped out of your clothes, quickly slipping into the thong and then pulling the jersey over your head. The fabric settled comfortably against your skin, the oversized fit doing little to hide the outline of what you were really wearing underneath.

When you emerged from the bedroom, your eyes met the living room where the guys were settling in. Jake was already lounging on the couch, the TV lighting up his face as he focused on pulling up the game. Bradley was standing near the fridge, mid-drink when he saw you. His hand froze, the bottle of beer almost slipping from his grip. His eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he took in the sight of you in nothing but the jersey.

Jake’s gaze flickered over to you, eyes widening for just a moment before he cleared his throat, his focus shifting back to the screen as though it was the most important thing in the world. But you could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tightened against the remote as if it were somehow anchoring him.

Bradley, on the other hand, had a harder time hiding it. His eyes followed you across the room, the surprise quickly turning into something unreadable, but not before his lips parted as though he might say something—until he caught himself. Instead, he looked down at his beer, taking a long swig to steady himself.

You smirked, casually flopping down on the couch beside Jake, making sure to let the fabric of the jersey shift just enough to give him a better view of what you were wearing—or, more accurately, not wearing underneath.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

Jake’s hand settled on your thigh, warm and heavy, sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the cool air from the open window. You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder, and wrapped your arms around his arm for good measure, leaning in close to him.

As you shifted your position, tilting your knees slightly, you felt the jersey ride up a bit higher, just enough for the lacy black thong to peek out from beneath the fabric. It was a calculated move, knowing full well that Bradley would notice.

Sure enough, when he finally settled back onto the couch on the other side of you, his gaze flickered down. His hand, perhaps on autopilot, reached out, brushing against your nearly bare skin, and you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips. Bradley’s fingers squeezed the flesh there, just a little too long, a little too possessively, before he quickly pulled his hand away, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

You tilted your head back into Jake’s side, letting out a soft, content sigh, and allowed yourself to sink into his warmth. The move was deliberate, a subtle taunt that made Bradley’s jaw clench and his nostrils flare. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off you, and you reveled in the power you held over the two men tonight.

“Enjoying the game?” Jake asked, his voice low, as if he didn’t want to break the spell you’d cast. His fingers tightened on your thigh, pressing just enough to remind you of his presence.

“Mmm,” you replied, letting the sound linger in the air, your breath warm against his neck.

Jake leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “You know, you’re really playing a dangerous game, don’t you think?”

You looked up at him, your expression innocent, the tease in your eyes impossible to hide. “Maybe,” you replied coyly, “but I think it’s one you’ll both enjoy losing.”

The game continued, but the real action was unfolding right in front of Jake and Bradley. You could feel their eyes on you—the weight of their attention was undeniable. Jake’s hand had barely moved from your thigh, and Bradley’s fingers lingered there, giving you little indication that he had any intention of stopping. They were both wound tight, and you were enjoying every minute of it.

As the Longhorns scored a touchdown, the roar from the crowd on the TV mixed with your own excited gasp. Without thinking, you jumped to your feet, the burst of energy sending you bouncing up and down in celebration. You felt the jersey ride up as you raised your arms, the fabric lifting just enough to expose the small, barely-there thong underneath.

Your ass swayed with each bounce, the thong almost completely exposed, offering a perfect view of your bare skin to both men. The sensation of their eyes locked on you was intoxicating, but you didn’t stop. You made sure every movement was deliberate, a tease designed to keep them both hooked.

Finally, you turned around, your back to them now. The jersey hung just low enough to cover your front but did nothing to hide the thong from their view. You felt their stares burning into you, the tension between the three of you palpable in the air.

With a grin, you smirked over your shoulder, catching their eyes before saying, “Man, I love football.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably, his hand now tight around the beer bottle in his lap, but he didn’t say anything. Bradley, on the other hand, couldn’t hide his reaction. His jaw clenched, his lips pressing together in frustration. His hand moved to the front of his jeans, adjusting himself. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself, like every instinct he had was telling him to do something more.

The tension in the room was unbearable, and you could practically feel the moment when Bradley’s restraint finally snapped. As you smirked over your shoulder, still reveling in the heat of their gazes, you noticed the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides. His jaw was locked, his body rigid as he tried—unsuccessfully—to stay composed.

Then, without warning, he shot up from the couch. “Screw this,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and rough, filled with frustration.

Before you could even react, he was on you. One moment, you were standing in front of him, and the next, he had you hoisted effortlessly over his shoulder. You gasped in surprise, but the only response from him was a determined growl.

You kicked your legs slightly, but it was no use. Bradley had you completely at his mercy, carrying you down the hallway toward his room with a purposeful stride.

Jake called out from the living room, his voice laced with disbelief. “Bradshaw—what the hell are you doing?”

But Bradley didn’t even look back, his focus solely on you as he carried you down the hall, ignoring whatever punishment Jake might throw at him. The bet? The consequences? They didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was the desire that had been building up in him, the need to finally act on everything he’d been holding back.

When he reached the door to his room, he kicked it open with one swift motion, stepping inside and slamming it shut behind him. As soon as it was closed, he dropped you onto the bed, his eyes dark with intensity.

“You’ve been teasing us all night,” he growled, voice thick with desire. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

You smirked, already knowing that you had pushed him too far. But that didn’t stop you from playing along, feeling the thrill of victory in the way you’d slowly unraveled him.

Bradley didn’t care about the bet anymore. All he cared about was you, and right now, that was enough.

As Bradley moved over you, his hands working the black thong off of your body with an urgency that matched the heat in his eyes, you felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. The door swung open with a creak, and there, standing in the doorway, was Jake. His smirk was wide, his eyes gleaming with that same cocky confidence, but there was a sharpness to it now—a flicker of something darker beneath the surface.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him. His eyes shifted between you and Bradley, taking in the sight of the thong being discarded carelessly to the side. The silence that followed was thick with tension, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

Bradley’s fingers paused for a moment, as if sensing Jake’s presence, but his focus quickly returned to you. The momentary distraction was all Jake needed. Without breaking his smirk, Jake pushed off the doorframe and strode confidently across the room.

“Bradley, step back, baby,” Jake’s voice was low, filled with a knowing taunt. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes still on you as he placed a hand on your waist, guiding you down across his lap.

You gasped, a mix of surprise and excitement flooding through you as you found yourself positioned across his strong legs. Your heart raced, but the smirk never left your face.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” Jake’s voice was suddenly darker, his tone shifting as he ran a finger down your spine. “You think you can tease us both, and get away with it?” He gave you a playful, but firm tap on the back of your thigh, the sting shocking you.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing his lips to your ear. “Well, it’s time somebody put you in your place.”

Bradley watched, still breathing heavily as he stood at the foot of the bed, his hands flexing with restrained hunger. The game had changed entirely. You had crossed a line, and now, both men knew it was their turn to take control.

Jake’s grip tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as he positioned you more firmly across his lap. He traced a finger across the curve of your backside, his voice rough as he said, “This isn’t over, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.”

The first smack comes without warning, a startled cry leaving your lips as you feel the sting of Jake’s hand.

“That’s one. You’ve got nine more. Think you can handle it?”

You nodd, but Jake just makes a tsk tsk tsk noise with his mouth before delivering another smack to the same spot.

“Use your words. We’re back to one. I can do this all night.”

“Yes. Yes, I can handle it.”

You hear Jake let out a low chuckle before saying, “Damn right you can, baby.”

The final smack echoed through the room, sharper than the rest, and you couldn't suppress the gasp that left your lips. A wave of heat rushed through you, a mix of sting and longing building in your body. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the tension of the moment overwhelming.

Jake’s hand lingered, resting gently on your sore skin, the warmth of his palm contrasting with the burn of the smacks. For a brief moment, there was silence. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the weight of his touch seemed to calm you, despite the ache.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softer now, but still full of command. His hand moved slowly, rubbing circles into your tender skin, soothing the burn as he spoke. "You did so well for me."

You could hear the pride in his voice, and feel the shift in his demeanor as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. It was a small, almost gentle gesture, but it spoke volumes in the context of everything that had just transpired.

His fingers traced along your back now, his touch lighter, almost tender. "I know you can take it," he continued, his tone warm. "You’ve been so good for us tonight."

The praise was enough to stir something inside you—something that made the lingering sting worth it. He could still dominate you, but in this moment, you were his, and he took care of you in a way that felt like both power and care.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen next, sweetheart,” Jake says. “Bradley here is going to lay on his bed, and you’re going to ride him, reverse cowgirl so he can watch that pretty ass bounce as your ride him. And so I can watch your perfect tits bounce.” You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together at his words. “And I’m going to stand at the end of the bed and I want your eyes on me the whole time. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” Jake says before helping you up off his lap.

The moment you lift yourself off Jake’s lap, there’s a quiet shift in the room. The tension in the room grows as you crawl up the bed, hovering over Bradley, who’s now lying back on the bed, his eyes dark with hunger but also something else–softness, a trace of tenderness mixed with the primal need.

As you settle above him, the weight of your body supported by your hands on either side of his chest, Bradley’s hands reach up to pull you down. He doesn’t waste a second, his lips finding yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. The kiss is almost electric, his lips hungry, but gentle enough to make you melt against him. The urgency fades slightly, and you find yourself losing a bit of control as you sink into the warmth of his embrace. His hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you close as if he doesn’t want to let you go.

The kiss deepens, and for a moment, everything else falls away. It's just the two of you, your bodies pressing together, the soft sound of your breathing filling the space between you. You feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and warm, grounding you in this moment. It’s different with Bradley—there’s a tenderness there, something that contrasts with the more commanding side Jake showed earlier.

When you pull away, your lips still tingling, you can see the quiet satisfaction in Bradley’s eyes. His hands slip down your sides, tracing the outline of your body as if committing every inch of you to memory.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire, but there’s a softness to it, a reverence that makes your chest tighten.

You smile, leaning in to kiss him again, but this time it’s slower, more deliberate, and you can feel the shift between you—less about the tease, less about the game, and more about the connection.

You shift, moving so that your back is now towards Bradley, and your gaze finds Jake’s. The electricity between you three is palpable, the air thick with the kind of unspoken connection that runs deep. You can feel Bradley’s hands on your waist, steadying you, but it’s Jake’s eyes that hold your attention now—dark, intent, but filled with something else. There’s a depth in his gaze, a silent understanding, a promise that whatever happens next, it’s about the three of you as one.

You reach down, tugging the burnt orange jersey off, letting it fall to the floor in a fluid motion, leaving yourself exposed before them. The vulnerability stirs something within you—both exhilarating and grounding at once. With each passing second, the trust between you grows stronger, the knowledge that you're not just being seen, but truly understood, is almost overwhelming.

You pause, locking eyes with Jake, and the tension rises again. His presence is commanding, but it's the gentle weight of his gaze that gives you the confidence to continue. Slowly, you begin to lower yourself, the movement calculated and deliberate, not just for them, but for yourself. 

Bradley’s hands guide you, steadying you as you move closer to him. Your eyes flutter close as you feel the stretch of Bradley as you sink further and further onto him.

“Uh uh. Eyes on me, baby.” Jake reminds you.

You nod and open your eyes, yours immediately find Jake’s green ones. They’re darker than normal, laced with desire and need.

“You’re perfect,” Bradley whispers, his voice thick with emotion. You can feel the weight of his words, not just in his tone, but in how his hands trace over your skin, grounding you in this moment.

You stay locked on Jake’s gaze, the intensity of his eyes grounding you in the moment. The air between you two feels thick, like a promise that’s been quietly building, waiting to be fulfilled. His face softens, but there’s a quiet strength in it that makes your heart race. 

Bradley’s hands move to your waist, his touch steady and sure. He guides you gently, helping you find your rhythm as your body begins to move, slow and deliberate. His touch is a contrast to Jake’s silent command—Bradley’s touch is soft, like a grounding force, holding you steady.

You feel the heat rising, your chest tightening as the tension builds. But through it all, Jake’s eyes never leave yours. There’s something magnetic about the way he watches, as though he’s seeing you—every part of you—in a way that makes you feel both vulnerable and safe, all at once. His jaw tightens as he shifts, the intensity in his gaze never faltering.

With every small movement, every shift of your body, you feel the pressure building. Your breaths come quicker, your heart racing as Bradley’s hands guide you.

“S-shit,” you hear Bradley mutter from beneath you, causing you to clench around him.

Bradley’s hands move to your back, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns against your skin. His touch is tender, guiding you closer, helping you reach a place of intensity that feels almost overwhelming.

And then, it comes—like a wave crashing over you. You can feel the pressure building, the world narrowing down to the feeling of Bradley’s hands on your skin, his body beneath you, and Jake’s steady gaze pulling you deeper. Every part of you is alive, connected, and entwined in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Your breath catches as the moment hits, your body trembling as you reach the peak. Your eyes never leave Jake’s, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away. There’s nothing but the bond between the three of you—the love, the trust, the unspoken understanding that this is where you’re meant to be. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit.” Bradley grunts as you feel ropes of his seed release into you.

You collapse on the bed against Bradley, your body spent and trembling, Jake’s smile softens, a quiet satisfaction in his eyes.

“You’re incredible,” Bradley whispers, pulling you into him, his hands still on your back as he kisses the top of your head. His voice is filled with a tenderness.

“You’re perfect,” Jake adds softly, his voice low and comforting.

Bradley shifts beside you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he looks over at Jake. There’s a quiet moment between them, an unspoken understanding passing between the two. With a soft chuckle, Bradley pushes himself up from the bed, his gaze lingering on you for a second longer before he speaks.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom. Jake, you wanna take care of her while I’m gone?” he asks, the affection in his voice evident.

Jake’s response is immediate, his eyes softening as he watches you. “Of course,” he says, his voice low but filled with warmth.

As Bradley moves to the bathroom, Jake crawls onto the bed beside you, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. His presence is a steady, comforting weight as he shifts closer, opening his arms for you. You don’t hesitate, scooting over to him, seeking the comfort of his embrace.

You curl into him, your body instinctively leaning into his warmth as your head rests against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is a calming rhythm beneath your ear, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment, the tension of the last few minutes slowly ebbing away.

Jake wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer, his hand gently stroking your hair as he settles against the pillows. His touch is soothing, almost protective, and it fills you with a sense of security that you can’t quite put into words.

“You did so well,” Jake murmurs, his voice soft and tender. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You smile against his chest, the words washing over you like a balm. You can feel the warmth of his body, the affection in every movement, and it’s all you need right now. The bond between the three of you feels unspoken but undeniable, and in this moment, everything feels right.

As you settle more comfortably against Jake, his arms holding you close, you allow yourself to fully relax, your body melting into his embrace. The soft sound of Bradley’s footsteps in the bathroom fades into the background as you lose yourself in the warmth of Jake’s care.

The world outside this room doesn’t matter right now. There’s only the three of you, your trust, and the quiet love that lingers in the space between. And for the moment, that’s all you need.

As the warmth of Jake’s embrace settles around you, the exhaustion from the long day and the intensity of everything that’s happened begin to catch up with you. Your body feels heavy, your mind slowly unwinding as the last threads of wakefulness start to slip away. You’re so close to falling asleep, the soothing rhythm of Jake’s heartbeat lulling you deeper into comfort.

But then, there’s a soft rustle of movement. You feel the bed shift slightly, and soon, Bradley is back. He’s holding a warm washcloth, the scent of soap and something faintly floral filling the air as he gently presses it against your skin. The touch is tender, careful, as he begins to clean you up, his fingers moving gently over you.

“Let me know if I’m being too rough,” Bradley murmurs softly, his voice a whisper in the quiet room, his gaze focused on his task. There’s no rush in his movements, only a quiet affection, as he takes care of you.

Once he finishes, he places the cloth aside, his hand lingering for just a moment before he pulls back. You feel the bed dip as he moves around, and then, in the next moment, he’s crawling onto the bed beside you. His arms slip around your waist from behind, pulling you into him, and you easily melt back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against your back.

You’re trapped now, but it doesn’t feel like a prison. Bradley’s strong chest presses against your back, his arms holding you securely while Jake, still on the other side of you, continues to hold you close. The two of them surround you, their presence comforting, and you can’t help but feel safe in their arms.

“Comfy?” Bradley murmurs against your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nod slightly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Wouldn’t want to fall asleep any other way.”

The steady sound of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies, and the quiet intimacy of the moment all wash over you. You can feel yourself drifting, your body sinking into the bed, the pull of sleep becoming harder to resist.

Just as your mind starts to fade, you hear Jake’s voice, light and teasing, cutting through the soft lull of the room.

“So, Bradshaw,” Jake begins, his tone dripping with playful mockery. “Not even twenty-four hours, huh?”

Bradley chuckles softly behind you, his fingers idly tracing circles on your waist as he gives a quiet, amused grunt. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

Jake snorts, a low, amused laugh slipping from his lips. “Right, but it’s nice to know you’re still a little bit predictable.”

You can hear the affection in Jake’s voice, his teasing not mean-spirited but filled with that familiar bond that the three of you share. As the sound of their laughter and gentle banter continues, the exhaustion pulls you under, and you finally surrender to sleep, the two men’s arms around you the last thing on your mind as you drift away.

[alieinthemorning]

Deepest, Darkest, Purest Love [Sylus] 

Content: World Underneath: Sealed in Dust Spoilers, Sylus Story Speculation, Angst, Soft Sylus, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Sylus…was an enigma to you. After the Nest, the forced resonating, and being told that he wanted to achieve his goal, he needed you to like him in some capacity. Now, you’ve ended up here in one of his many safe houses, wrapped in his arms on the couch while some movie played. Domestic bliss as its finest, but how did you end up here? You knew that it wasn’t just him playing with your feelings while you hopelessly fell for it. No…you knew that his feelings for you were real. His actions and words, although not always obvious, were always clear in the intentions. 

“You know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine.”

Despite how you acted toward him, or tried to deceive yourself. You knew you loved him. You loved this man something fierce. And honestly? 

It scared you—terrified you.

You understood that you and Sylus shared a past. One of your many pasts, over your many deaths. Unfortunately, you couldn’t remember much (not that you think you ever could). Since EVER had gotten their hands on you and the Aether Core, memories come up spotty and painful. You want to remember, you really do, but it doesn’t seem like you have an actual say in the matter. But from what you can remember…you’ve both died…many, many times. Pitted against each other for some reason or other, then forced to become close—fall in love, just to do it all over again—Oh.

Oh.

“You know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine.”

You were pitted against each other for the Aether core. That’s what wants to devour him—this damned Aether Core. 

“Sweetie?” His thumb brushed against your under eye, catching the wetness there. “Why are you crying?” 

“I’m sorry!” You wail into his chest. “I’m so sorry for hurting you!”

“I’ve told you before that it was my fault for pushing you—” He grunted as you shoved away from him, shaking your head violently. 

“I’m talking about before! Way back when—I still don’t remember it all, but I know that I hurt you, so—” You looked up at him, tears caressing your waterline. “How can you love me so deeply?” 

“I’ve told you this once, and I’ll tell you as many times as you need.” He smiled, and you break. 

“You know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine.”

You know, and you hate yourself for selfishly enveloping yourself in that love. 

A love you do not deserve. 

I was trying to do Soft Sylus, which! for the two lines that he speaks, he is in fact soft, so I'm counting it! But it ended up as angst regardless lol.

Now, let's get into what might be his Myth or one of his many pasts with you. I think that the two of you were pitted against each other for the Aether Core. Whoever the hell had y'all fighting wanted to make one of you stronger, and having one kill the other for the core seemed a lot more fun than just choosing one. But! I don't think it worked, y'all got tired of fighting and choose not to take arms when it was time, which not the best idea because you'd be punished, but hey, it did eventually get the message through to them. However, they took another approach, which was getting the two of you closer, so when they did pit you two against each other again, one of you would have to throw your life down for the other, and in this case…it was Sylus.

At least! That's what I'm thinking lol. Just a little theory!

I'm on Bluesky btw~

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

[marvelfanfics1]

Could you do a JJ’s little sister fanfic where she gets hit by Luke and JJ comforts her and takes her to the chateau to get her away from it? She could be like 13 maybe

Daddy Issues

Pairing: brother!jj maybank x sister!reader

Warnings: angst, child abuse, Luke, bruises, swearing

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You squint your eyes shut as you try to close the front door quietly, praying to god that your father is dead asleep or passed out from drinking.

Peeking inside the living room you sigh in relief when he is nowhere to be seen only to squeak when you bump into a chest, looking up to face your father.

"You're late." He states, the smell of beer reaches your nose and you refrain from the urge to scrunch your face up in disgust.

"M-My phone died and I lost track of time." You stammer, cursing at yourself mentally for giving him the satisfaction of knowing that he's scaring you.

"Uh-huh..." He trails off before his fist suddenly connects with your face, sending you on the ground from the inpact. "Care to explain why your goddamn school called me today 'cause you keep ditchin'?"

You cradle the side of your face, tears stinging in your eyes as you try to come up with an explanation only to flinch when he raises his hand again.

"If I get one more call I swear I'll give you a beating that you'll never forget." He seethes and when you don't give any acknowledgement he leans down to grab your face with one hand, his fingers digging uncomfortably into your skin. "Got it?"

"Y-Yes dad..." You answer, your voice shaking.

He let's go of you harshly, walking past you to get himself another beer and you quickly scramble off the floor to rush for your room, locking the door you press your forehead against it and let the tears finally flow.

Fun fact, the only times you don't go to school are the days you got another bruise from Luke, not wanting to keep explaining to your teachers where they're from and risking that CPS gives you a visit, knowing they would instantly take you and JJ into foster care and the chances that you both stay together is low.

You wouldn't know what to do without him. He's your big brother, the only person you can tell everything and see more as a father figure than Luke.

20 minutes later you're curled up on your bed, sobbing quietly into your pillow when a tapping on your window startles you, lifting your head to see JJ.

You force yourself to get up and walk over to the window, opening it for him to stumble through.

"Thanks...didn't wanna get caught by dad." He says, standing back straight he smoothes out his clothes, adjusting the cap on his head.

He doesn't notice what state you're in until you move back to your bed, getting a glimpse of your face from the lamp on your nightstand illuminating it.

His eyes widen as he approaches you. "Whoa, what happened." He asks, lifting his hand to grab your chin but when you flinch away he stops mid air, his jaw clenching the moment he realizes.

Luke. He's gonna kill him. He's gonna fucking-

JJ's thoughts are interrupted by you starting to sob, pulling you into a hug with a hand cradling the back of your head against his chest. "Shh, I'm here now...I got you."

He just stands there with you for a while, not making any move to pull away, waiting for you to make the first move and when you do he pushes you gently to sit down on your bed.

Without saying anything he grabs one of your bags and shoves some clothes into it and any necessities he thinks you might need, then crouches down to pick up the teddy bear you had since you were a baby and shoves it in there as well before he stands back up.

"Let's go." He grabs your hand and pulls you towards your window.

You don't protest and climb over the window seal, your feet touching the ground again you watch JJ come out after you and shut the window quietly.

He grabs your hand again and leads you to his dirt bike, helping you sling the bag onto your back, climbing onto his bike first he waits for you to get on as well.

After you do, you wrap your arms around him tightly, your face pressing against his back. JJ revs his bike before taking off towards the Chateau, knowing you'll feel safer there.

Arriving at your second home JJ stops the others from greeting you, telling them you need a moment and taking you inside, placing his hands on your shoulders he leans down to meet your gaze.

His heart aches at the sight of the blooming bruise on your right eye, your eyes puffy and red rimmed from the crying. "Go take a shower, I'm waiting with the others outside, yea?"

You nod, making your way to the bathroom JJ sighs, walking back outside he grabs a beer can and cracks it open, taking a big sip.

"What's up with tiny maybank?" John b asks, his concern growing when JJ starts pacing, pulling the cap off his head angrily.

"Fucking Luke..." The blonde mutters. "He hit her man! He hit my baby sister!"

Everyone's eyes widen, protectiveness and anger flaring up in all of them. You're the youngest of the group, so of course they see you as their own little sibling and would do anything for you, just like JJ does.

"Why? What happened? Is she okay?" Kie asks concerned and JJ scoffs.

"No, she's not fucking okay, kie. She has a damn black eye 'cause of this piece of shit!" He snaps at her, too worked up to see that his friends are just as worried and upset as he is.

"Man, calm down, okay? We're trying to help." Pope tries to ease the tension.

"Right, right. I'm sorry- I just...fuck. I should've been there I..." JJ trails off, feeling tears build up in his eyes but pushing them back.

He knows how you feel, the feeling of not understanding how someone who's supposed to love and take care of you can hurt you like that without batting an eye.

JJ feels even worse for not being there to protect you, to stop his father from laying a hand on you.

He sits down on the ground near the crinkling fire, his arms braced on his knees when he feels a hand on his shoulder, looking to his side to look at John b.

His best friend doesn't need to be a mind reader to know what he's thinking, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance. "It's not your fault, jay. We're here for you both."

JJ just nods, giving him a small smile. "I know. Thank you. All of you."

Everyone's attention goes to the Chateau when they hear the screen door being shut, seeing you coming towards them, freshly showered and dressed in an oversized shirt.

JJ instantly gets on his feet again, approaching you to pull you into another hug and you wrap your arms around him, holding onto his shirt tightly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there I-"

"S'okay..." You whisper, already feeling a lot better being in the presence of your real family. "I love you, jay..."

"I love you too, kid." He whispers back, pulling back to press a kiss to your forehead. "More than anything.

You smile at him, the throbbing pain from your bruised eye slowly fading as you turn to look at the others. "Hey guys..."

"C'mon, sit with us, sweetie." Sarah pats the places next to her and you go to sit beside her, letting her wrap an arm around you.

The moment everyone gets settled again the usual banter and laughter kills the built up tension in the air, JJ keeping an eye on you the whole time to make sure you're alright.

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For everything:

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For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[majinbangus]

I keep thinking abt reader being mad at guard dog Simon, so when they go shopping she holds him back and points to the sign on the door,

“No pets allowed.”

before walking into the shop without him.

ahahaha -> more here

He raises his eyebrow when you point it out, one hand pressed firmly against his chest while the other juts a thumb out at the sign. His foot drops from where it was suspended in the air, about to follow you into the store. Ghost tilts his head appraisingly at you.

"Oh, tha's how it's gonna be, innit?" A smirk plays at the corner of his lips. Cute how you're acting out. He's not even mad, simply amused at your clever pettiness. "This the game you wanna play?"

The hand on his chest tenses and curls at the fingertips, an irritated scowl gracing your expression. It's the exact opposite of his own entertained one. You're so fun when you get like this. More biting. It keeps things interesting. It gives Ghost an excuse to bite back.

"I'm not playing any games, Simon," You claim, emphasizing it with a push to his chest, but it does nothing. He doesn't give you the satisfaction of making him step back because you get so titillated when he's a dick. "The store says no pets allowed, so you're gonna have to wait out here. And if you continue to bark nonsense like a mutt, I'm gonna put a muzzle on you."

His eyes flash something wild and Ghost is about to shuffle a threatening step towards you, but thanks to Soap, you're spared from his retaliation when he intervenes, putting a hand on your shoulder. "Sweetheart, no need to be so mean to the dog." He sends you an admonishing look before giving Ghost a more forgiving one. "You're a good boy, Simon; I know you'll have to stay out here, but you'll get a treat once we get home if you're good."

Soap pointedly squeezes your shoulder when he says treat and you give an undignified squawk. "But he's been so—"

"I think he's been behavin' just fine."

"For you, maybe—"

"That's enough." Soap frowns at you and begins shepherding you into the store. "Don't go actin' like an untrained pup; you're supposed to be Ghost's owner. Act like it."

"... Fine," You grumble under your breath, "but he only gets one treat from me. If he wants more, he'll have to earn it."

"Aye, f'course." Soap looks over his shoulder at Ghost with a puckish grin. "Hear that, Ghost? Think you can earn more treats?"

"Naturally," Ghost says, locking eyes with you when you sneak a peek at him. His lips spread up into something cocky. "I'll get what I want in the end. I always do."

[httpscomexe]

Little Red

Summary: You're a little pissed off at one of your partners, but he of course, makes up for it.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Wade x Reader x Logan

Warnings: Mention of sex. That’s it really. Heavy foul language?

Word Count: 2004

(I don't check for grammar, I'm too lazy for that shite)

“They’re in my sights, I’m moving in.” You look down at him from above the dark bridge, gun trained on the enemy as Wade moves in, gun pointed in their direction as they search for both of you, and you grin, you had them cornered and they didn’t even know it.

“Wait…” You mumble, sweeping your gun over the area again. “I thought there was three…”

“Shit-“ Then you hear it, the gun as it shoots you right in the back, your gun powering down for the next 10 seconds.

Fucking laser tag.

“Haha, I got you!” Peter pokes your forehead, pushing your head back playfully before running off for the last five seconds you had left, waiting for your gun to power back up.

Were you winning? Absolutely. Were you having fun? Most definitely. Should you all be out on a mission right now? We don’t talk about that.

There’s arcade music as your gun powers back up, and you immediately go back into ‘Call of Duty mode,’ as you like to call it, treating it as if it was a real mission and you didn’t just get shot in the back.

Turning a corner you see a blue glow, that meant Wade was there, your other partner having left already claiming the game wasn’t fair to them. Just because they’re blind, doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

“One is in the back left corner of the room, I’ll get the two on the opposite bridge.” Wade tells you, crouch running to get to the other side, cause who really gives a fuck about no running rules in laser tag rooms? Once the gun is in your hand and the vest is strapped around your front, the rules no longer apply, it was every man, or woman, for themselves, and you took it pretty damned seriously.

You turn the corner, the end of your gun pointed ahead with only 12 seconds left on the little screen, and so you rush it, moving into a jog to get to the end, searching for Kurt, and finding Peter, shooting him straight in the side while he’s looking up at Wade, satisfied with the 10 second time out, that meant he was done about 7 seconds early, so you pass him, ignoring the stupid look of defeat he gives you. You always start, and end with the first and last shot, and you always win. Today would not be the day you lost. So with your gun at the ready, you spot Kurt, he’s got his gun trained up where Wade is, you can tell by the blue glow, and he was waiting for Wades vest to pop up, but you knew it wasn’t going to, so you get close enough for the gun to catch onto the sensors, and you pull the trigger, but it doesn’t push down, instead of the classic video game gun sound, there’s a power down button as the lights turn on, cancelling out the neon and black lights, a groan leaving your throat.

“Why didn’t you shoot me?” Kurt laughs, standing up and looking at Wade again who was now scaling his way down the bridge over to you, Kurt, Peter, and Jane. Scott had also left the room because he was scared of lasers.

“I thought I had enough time for a takedown!” You smile largely, Wade coming up from behind you and lifting you around the waist, waddling awkwardly as he walks you to the exit.

You get out, looking up at the scoreboard. As usual, flawless accuracy, and the most points, you sigh. Thank you Clint. The winning team? Well, Wade picking you up and twirling you like a princess is enough to answer that question, obviously the blue team won. Meaning 500 tickets would be sent into your wristband, and your team wouldn’t be able to play again for thirty more minutes.

“Who won?” Al comes up behind you smiling, holding the big stuffie that she wants to believe is a teddy bear, no one had the heart to tell her…

“Uh, who do you think won?” Wade wiggles his finger directly in front of Al’s face.

“Judging by your hot breath on my face regardless of the mask, I’m assuming you and little red won?” Little red. You love Wade, but God that nickname was getting to be a bit much.

“You’re just mad you couldn’t see.”

“Bitch I got more shots than you probably.”

“Which would be impressive if your kill to death ratio wasn’t seven to twenty three.”

“Girls, come on, the pizza should be ready, and Logan should be here any minute now.” You grab Wades gloved hand, and you gently guide Althea over to the table where Scott was sitting, a small cup of tickets on the table, and a large box of pizza, only two missing. But you weren’t hungry, you were just excited to see Logan.

“Face it, he’s not coming.” Jane nudges you, grabbing a slice for herself, but you were pretty dedicated to looking towards the door, hoping his grumpy ass would peek in at any minute now. But to no avail.

“After this, we should do the race track.” Wade points at Kurt with the tip of his pizza, the weird bastard was eating it crust first. As if Wade couldn’t get weirder.

“Ze race track?” Kurt lifts the two litre bottle of coke, pouring it into a styrofoam cup with some ice that was half melted as you look down at your watch. Logan should’ve been there by now, he promised he’d be there… Surely he didn’t forget. Right?

“Yea, I mean one of us is bound to beat little red in racing, right?” Wade chuckles, looking at you looking at the doors.

“Right? Little red?” You feel a hand on your shoulder and you throw on a smile. “You can’t be good at racing too.”

“Actually, Tony Stark taught me himself.” Is what you would’ve said, but you’ll pass on that for now, those are stories for another time. “Wade, I will kick all of your asses in racing… I could beat you all with my eyes closed.” He smiles.

“Wanna give that a try?”

“No, I wanna go outside for a moment…” You answer quickly, it sounded almost sarcastic, but by the way Wade's chest heaves up and down in a silent heavy sigh, you know he’s disappointed. You were completely reliant on Logan, but you couldn’t help it. That bitch saved your life. And he wouldn’t even show up to an arcade for you now. “I just need a breather…” Wade nods, letting you go, a pat on the shoulder for comfort.

“Well, we’re gonna go practice rounds with five year olds as a replacement, and maybe we can even get Al driving. I'd love to see what she looks like behind a wheel completely unaware of another car in front of her.” You chuckle dryly, taking a step back.

“I’ll be right there, I promise.” You mumble the promise, stepping out of the large arcade and you go over to your truck, climbing into the bed and then onto the roof, sitting with your legs crossed as you open your phone, first checking Logan’s location, which as usual, was turned off. So you call him.

It rings.

And rings.

And rings.

And guess what?

It fucking rings.

You groan, opening your texts with him, the last one he sent being, “I’ll be there baby, I promise. Tell Wade I love him too.” Which makes you feel a wave of hurt just stroke through your body.

You call the number again for some reason. And it rings, and rings. Then it doesn’t.

“What the fuck?” Did this motherfucker just decline my call? Who the fuck does he think he is? You call back, and this time it only rings once before it’s sent straight back to voicemail. So again, you call, same thing. So you call again and again until you’re sure his voice box would be full of frustrated grumbles and groans from your side. “You motherfucking bitch…” Is what’s in the last voicemail until you open your camera app. Only to discover a fucking wall.

And that was it.

You hop off the roof of your truck, opening the door and starting the engine, letting it roar to life despite the snow as you buckle up quickly and swing out of the parking lot. You were not letting this motherfucker ignore you.

You take a sharp turn, speeding down the roads when you could, the little sticker on the back of your licence plate a warning for police not to pull you over.

“What the fuck could this ancient piece of art be possibly hiding from me?” You start yelling at nothing, wishing Wade was sitting next to you. “You save the fucking world with someone and you think you know a guy… especially one that’s been fucking inside of you.” You’re talking to the snow on your windshield now. You knew you’d get attached when you agreed to being in a relationship with Wade and Logan. You’re latched onto the two unkillable fucks like a leech, and until they see you when you’re out of your prime, you weren’t going anywhere, and they sure as hell weren’t gonna push you away. Especially not on the birthday that they all promised to be at. Which honestly, if it was just you, Wade, and Logan, you would’ve been completely satisfied. But with Logan missing, it just felt like a teenage hangout, Wade counting as a child.

You pull off the road, driving up the gravel quickly to the little cabin the three of you had put together, and you turn off the engine of the truck, throwing yourself out of the drivers seat, jamming the keys into the front door, and you push it slab of wood open, basically slamming it behind you before you freeze at the red coating the hardwood floor.

Rose petals…?

Your eyes squint in confusion. And you take another step inside. Red rose petals lead to the bedroom. Little fake candles lit up in the kitchen and living room. And you could barely hear two voices arguing with each other in the bedroom. Wade and Logan…

Logan…

Wade?

How the fuck-

Kurt…

You groan, taking slow and calculated steps towards the bedroom, you weren’t big on surprises, especially since on the other side of the wall there’s usually just a man with a gun.

But as soon as you step into the bedroom…

“Surprise!” Wade shouts, conferring thrown into the air, and there’s glitter flying at you, making you turn away but it just covers your clothes and the floor, not reaching your eyes, nose, or mouth.

Wade was standing in jeans and a pink polo now, his suit and mask kicked into the corner as if it was expertly hidden, and he even managed to get Logan to wear something else from his usual beater and jeans. He was now just wearing elmo pyjamas and a pink hoodie.

“Happy birthdayyy little red!” Wade sings, clapping his hands and running up to you for a hug, which you of course give him, sending a death glance towards Logan who just laughe, taking a few steps towards you.

“I know, I promised to go to the arcade, but baby I am more than two hundred years old, pac man isn’t exactly my thing…” He grabs your waist, wrapping one arm around you and smiling.

“So you set this up…?” He nods, and you feel Wade come up behind you.

“Figured we’d give you a break and let you relax while we take care of you…”

“It was my idea…” Wade chirps, and Logan growls. “Mostly my idea… the sex part was my idea…” His hands also rest on your waist, smiling against your neck as Logan stares down into your eyes.

“Happy birthday, little red…” He leans down, kissing you, and suddenly the nickname doesn’t seem all that bad.

[silver-velvet-860]

HAPPY 500!!!!

This group has absolutely been my most difficult and ambitious yet. It was fun to push the limits of what I could do. My absolute favorites from this group would probably have to be Michya/Chitsuki, whom my friend requested. They were hard to figure out, but the end result is so nice to look at.

I’ve been at this for an entire year now, which is spectacular. I can’t believe this all started with me just wanting to make the Satellite coach. And the progress definitely shows when you look at each milestone sequentially. Here’s coaches 1-400:

Since my skills have improved immensely, you can expect to see many more remakes of older coaches in the future. Additionally, I think I might start making coaches from the JDWii series and JDChina series. Maybe someday I’ll have made every single coach in the main franchise. That would be an insane goal—but maybe it’s not out of reach.

Thank you so much for supporting me, requesting coaches, and generally showing your love for this passion project of mine. I promise I’ll keep providing the best work I can. Onwards and upwards!

[maiiuelle]

what if rafe was one of the readers managers and she was a pop star of some sort? i feel like we'd end up seeing a documentary about that because he's making under the table deals to get her more publicity, but also setting her up for drama to make both of them more popular !! he def also gives her something to keep her going through exhaustion and that's a whole 'nother thing !!

whew that was a lot! also hi!! i'm back from the dead!

- 🪻

OMGG HEY!!

okay walk with me here, you start dating rafe already chasing your dream of becoming a pop star. you’ve run into nothing but useless managers and dead ends, so you moved back home to the outer banks and picked up bartending.

you tell rafe all of this, just casual new relationship small talk — but he gets hooked on it. “y’know, i have crazy connections — like, through my dad and shit — so, if you’re serious about it, i mean.. i could prolly help you out.”

you don’t stop to consider he might be in it for the money, at first not convinced yourself you’ll make anything after your past failed attempts at stardom. but, rafe pulls through. you start booking small gigs on the island, singing at weddings and small venues until your name really starts getting out there.

of course, it’s not all thanks to your talent, though he lets you think it is. he could never tell you that your career is nothing more than a very elaborate front for his own business, he’d rather let you have your fun while he makes millions.

fame puts a strain on your relationship with rafe, surely, especially with him being your manager. you’d expect a little comfort from your boyfriend, but you come to him exhausted before a show, and he couldn’t seem more inconvenienced.

your glittery outfit scrapes over rafe’s pressed suit when you fall into his arms. “princess, seriously? what — what, what is it? hm?” he pulls you back up on your feet, tapping your cheek in irritation.

“i can’t do this.” you suck in a shaky breath, clutching your chest trying to breathe away a sob. he sighs frustratedly from his nose, pressing his lips together in disappointment. “rafe, i can’t—”

he puts his arm around your shoulders, looking around the room as he digs his other hand into his pocket. it sounds like there’s a plastic bag inside, and his thick fingers come out coated in white powder. he turns you a little, holding you up when you trip over your heels. “shh, shh, you’re good.”

rafe pushes his fingers under your lip, rubbing them over your gums for a second. you squirm at the feeling, but he holds you still. when he stops, you smack your lips, looking up at him in dazed confusion.

he smiles, finally looking proud as he kisses your sweaty forehead. “see, there you go, baby. you’re perfect. get moving, you’re on in 5.”