#she might not know what's coming out of her mouth as she's saying it.

[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.

[byjove-cannibalcove]

my uncle (who 15 years later is a super anti-trans pro-trump guy) when i told him i was trans as a teenager: starts explaining to me that i should date older divorced women "because if they are used goods theyll just be glad anyone is willing to take them, which is how (2007 version of the phrase 'low value men') like us get 9s and 10s, ive NEVER dated below a 7, hot girls get desperate when they're older" --(coincidentally we stopped to eat and even though i was not attempting to pass i walked into the womens bathroom and a man saw me doing it and GRABBED ME and scolded me and tried to push me towards the men room and i froze up, squeaked, hurried into the womens room, he went and got a manager, i had to go 'no im a girl' like it was.. not fun! a very BAD first accidental passing situation! i only felt miserable embarrassed and in danger. )

a year or so later, coming out to my dad id only recently met as being a 16ish year old Lesbian (because i didnt trust him enough to come out as trans): 'oh okay, cool, lets go to hooters and oggle the waitresses, they are hot but stupid haha, i like stupid girls the most (note, his gf was 20 years younger than him) but id FUCK Sarah Palin, im only going to vote for Mccain just because Palin is HOT, hey did you hear they made a porn of her lookalike? yeah i know she hates gay people (and you are gay) but who cares, shes fUCKABLE i dont care what shes SAYING i just care about her BOOBS'

when i was about 18 during the training week for my first ever job at krogers i managed to pass without realizing it until the dudes invited just me (not the 1 girl) to eat lunch with them and just IMMEDIATELY started talking about fucking girls, girls being worthless if they were ugly and 'if theyre ugly just fuck em in the mouth hahaha' and HEY you know what i did NOT feel liek one of the boys, i felt like i was IN DANGER if they clocked me!! i did not feel like id gotten a special pass to the Fun Misogyny World where id get paid more, i was a 5'2" spotty teen boy working his first ever job as a grocery bagger who was now kind of scared his new coworkers might kill him, because ALL id done to pass was have short hair, be naturally kinda ugly, and have a gender-neutral nickname. none of my bosses thought i was a guy, they could find out at any second (as soon as we got back from lunch, evern) , that i was a worthless ugly girl that had invaded their space for their private conversatoin and maybe theyd decide to to show me what they meant!!!???

i have pretty much never managed to pass Ever Again after that point as far as i know, just a handful of times where a service worker went 'sir' to me, so these are pretty much the only times ive ever passed and it wasnt super fun!! so like!! maybe if youre a big huge strong tough trans guy with a spine of steel, complete confidence in your ability to pass and defend yourself, are in a highpowered/skilled enough environment to not worry about your job opportunities, maybe in that case invitations to the Fun Special Misogyny Club are being handed out even if you disclose that youre trans and hey, maybe its even fun to be there! ... but acting like thats the DEFAULT is just insane.

I'm this close to just sending that trans inclusive radical misogynist post, the one about how there's loads of guys who'll go "oh, you're a man now, great, come shit talk women with us" to every blog insisting that trans men can't have male privilege and it's transandrophobia to say they do. Not every trans man has this experience but it's actually pretty common even for out trans men to be seen as, if not "real" men depending on who you ask, certainly non-women, and encouraged to perform misogyny as part of their social transition.

[p0orbaby]

can u do r and lessi being in the gym together and less won’t stop teasing and annoying reader

i switched this around because it fit what i was going for better. hope you don’t mind !

-

The gym is air-conditioned within an inch of its life, but Alessia is still sweating. Proper athlete sweating, the kind where her cheeks are flushed and her hair’s falling out of its ponytail in damp little wisps. She’s in a matching navy-blue set that makes her look like she’s about to film an Adidas advert, and you’re doing absolutely nothing to help.

You’re sitting cross-legged on a yoga mat in the corner, sipping from a water bottle you don’t need because you’re not the one working out. You’re on holiday, after all. Alessia’s the lunatic who insisted she needed “just an hour” in the gym, despite the private beach literally shimmering outside.

“What exactly are you training for?” you ask, watching as she bends forward into some sort of stretch that’s objectively impressive but mostly just funny.

“Pre-season,” she says through gritted teeth, reaching for her toes. “Fitness doesn’t take a holiday”

“Oh, that’s inspiring.” You take another sip of water, just to make a point. “Maybe Adidas should use that. Fitness doesn’t take a holiday, but your girlfriend will”

“Don’t you have something better to do?” she asks, glaring at you from under her sweaty fringe.

“Not really. This is pretty entertaining”

She ignores you and moves to the weights section, picking up two dumbbells that look unnecessarily heavy. You watch as she starts a set of bicep curls, her form perfect, of course, because she’s Alessia Russo and nothing she does is ever less than perfect.

“Nice guns,” you say, resting your chin in your hand. “Bet you could carry all the shopping in one trip”

“Do you want me to throw this at you?” she asks, but there’s a flicker of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

“You wouldn’t. You’d miss me too much when I’m unconscious”

She rolls her eyes and moves to the resistance bands. She hooks one around her foot, stretches it, and starts some sort of kickback movement that you can’t take seriously because it looks absurd.

“Are you trying to win a world title or auditioning for the Rockettes?”

That one gets a laugh, though she tries to cover it with a cough.

“Seriously, Less, you’re on holiday,” you continue, leaning back on your hands. “Why are you torturing yourself in here when we could be doing literally anything else?”

“Because I don’t want to lose momentum,” she says, switching legs.

You tilt your head. “Is that what you call it? I call it masochism”

“Shut up”

“You know, I’m proud of you, babe. Really. But if you fall over in those squats, I’m recording it”

She pauses mid-rep to glare at you, and you grin innocently.

When she finally finishes her workout, she’s glistening like a Greek statue come to life. She tosses the resistance band onto a bench and strides over to you, towering above where you’re still sitting like a particularly lazy house cat.

“You done?” you ask sweetly, looking up at her.

“Yep,” she says, and without warning, she reaches down, grabs your hands, and hauls you to your feet in one swift motion.

“Alessia!” you yelp, stumbling into her chest.

She smirks, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Thought you could use a break , seeing as you’ve been sitting there running your mouth for the last hour.”

“I am pretty tired,” you quip, though your heart is pounding slightly from the sudden closeness. “Do you know how much effort it takes to keep up with you?”

She laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Come on, lazy. Let’s hit the beach”

“Finally,” you say, though you secretly think she looks ridiculously good in that gym kit and you might not mind her dragging you back here tomorrow.

[hotshotsxyz]

too little, too late

(8x08 coda) (buddie) (1.2k) the episode chose violence and so did i :) spoilers for 8x08, and hey, guess what? this is my 100th 911 fic! it feels right that it's an evil one <3

The real estate agent has an irritating voice. It’s pitchy and run through with vocal fry, and if Buck has to listen to her talk for another second, he might actually tear his hair out. And it’s definitely about her voice. Nothing to do with the largely helpful information she’s handing over to Eddie like candy on Halloween.

“Anyway, we can touch base again once you’ve had a chance to look over those listings. I’m sure we’ll find something for both of you to love!” the realtor says.

Buck smiles. It feels brittle and fake.

“Thank you so much,” Eddie says with all the sincerity Buck can’t quite muster. He ends the call and sits back against the couch.

“That, uh—that went, um—” He’s choking on the positivity he’s trying so hard to exude. “—well,” he manages.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Seems easier than I thought it was going to be.”

Easy.

That’s—

Yeah.

“You know you—you don’t have to buy straight away,” Buck says as casually as he can manage, which is to say, not casually at all.

“Buck,” Eddie says with a sigh.

“I know!” Buck says, throwing his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Just—maybe you want to make sure, you know? Before it’s—it’s permanent.”

“I can’t keep missing out on his life,” Eddie says quietly.

Buck swallows. He knows. He knows! Knows it like he knows there’s going to be an Eddie-and-Chris shaped hole in his heart for the rest of his goddamn life.

“I don’t want you to,” Buck says, and it’s maybe the first honest thing that’s come out of his mouth since he sat down on Eddie’s couch.

Bile rises in the back of his throat as he realizes this might be one of the last times he gets to sit on this couch, in this house, with this man.

Eddie drops his head into his hands. “I don’t—” He cuts himself off.

“Have you told Bobby yet?” Buck asks. His breath catches.

“No,” Eddie says.

“Oh,” Buck says in a rush of air. “That’s—” He wants to say good. He can’t say good. Eddie needs—he needs—

Eddie lifts his head from his hands and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to,” he admits. “I thought—”

“That he’d want to come back,” Buck supplies when Eddie doesn’t finish his thought.

He nods.

“He still—he could still—” Buck starts.

“He’s not going to change his mind.” Eddie cuts him off. “He doesn’t hate me. It’s worse than that. He doesn’t care.”

Buck’s chest feels tight. “He—he loves you, Eddie,” he says weakly.

“Maybe before, but—”

“He does,” Buck insists. “And—and if this is what you have to do to make sure that stays true I—I get it.” He does. He gets it. He’d do anything for Christopher. He’d—

It’s the worst feeling in the entire fucking world, but he’d give up Eddie for that kid. Is. Is giving up Eddie for that kid. A sob jumps up in Buck’s throat. He fights it back.

“I want to believe you,” Eddie says.

Buck knows that he doesn’t.

“Have you, um. Have you talked to Chris about this yet?” Buck asks, feeling a little bit like he’s just laid his neck across the base of a guillotine.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I—I’ve got to do this, whether he wants me to or not.”

All at once Buck’s angry. Angry at Eddie, angry at his parents, at fucking Kim, at himself, and maybe even a little bit at Christopher.

“Eddie, you—you told him he could come back!” He says, a little louder than he means to. “Doesn’t he deserve to know that’s not going to be an option anymore?”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s got—he’s got friends here, and—and Carla, and—” He can’t say it. He doesn’t have the right to say it, doesn’t have the right to feel like he’s already lost a limb and now they’re taking a lung, but— “and me,” he finishes quietly.

Something like devastation flashes across Eddie’s face. “Buck, I—”

“No,” Buck says quickly, standing up from the couch. “I shouldn’t have—I’m not—”

“Buck, wait,” Eddie says, following him as he retreats toward the door.

“I, um—I forgot, I have to—I promised Maddie,” he tries to lie.

“Please don’t go,” Eddie says, and god, how many times in Buck’s life has he yearned to hear someone say that to him and mean it. How many nights has he driven home from Eddie’s wishing he’d been asked to stay.

This thing building in his chest, this thing of anger and grief and regret—it hurts. Every breath he takes is a little more constricted, a little less effective.

Eddie looks at him, and Buck sees it. That thing he’s always wanted to see. That thing he didn’t even know he wanted from Eddie until right now and it’s—

There was a small, naïvely hopeful part of Buck that really still believe that if someone loved him enough, they’d stay. Eddie loves him, looks at Buck like he’ll break his heart when he walks out the door, and it still isn’t—

Eddie loves him, and it isn’t enough to make him stay.

Buck is in love with him, he realizes, and it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s leaving. Like Abby and like Tommy, except Buck didn’t know how much hurt he hadn’t even discovered yet, because this isn’t Abby or Tommy, it’s Eddie, and Eddie—

Eddie’s supposed to be the one that stays.

Buck shakes his head and shuffles back until the doorknob is digging into his spine. “I have to,” he breathes, a grossly distorted reflection of what neither of them has quite managed to say.

Eddie opens his mouth like he’s going to ask again, like he’s going to beg Buck to stay, to show him all these awful pieces of his heart that he’s just found so he can remind himself that it’s not too much to leave behind.

Buck’s out the door before he can say another word.

He throws himself into the Jeep and all but fishtails it out of Eddie’s driveway. He makes it three streets away before he has to pull over.

The first sob surprises him with its softness; the second with its violence. He wraps his arms tight around his stomach and, god, he tries to breathe. But there’s not—there’s not enough oxygen in the entire world to make up for the way his lungs refuse to expand in the face of this loss.

He has to—he can’t—Eddie needs him to pull it together. To—to help him. To support him, and god help him, Buck will. There’s nothing Eddie could ask of him that he wouldn’t give. Nothing Eddie could do, Buck’s realizing, to make him love him any less.

Hot tears spill down Buck’s cheeks. He takes a shuddering breath and wipes them away. His vital organs are crumbling, so what?

He’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to keep Eddie warm.

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - part IV

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

playlist, part I, part II, part III

Warnings: smut and i mean FILTHY OK, toxic!paige, kinda cheating, language, etc.

Wordcount: 7.4k (sorry but there's smut ok)

A/N: TY for being so patient with me, i've been feeling sick but slowly getting better and finally got this done. finally some fluff for y'all. also please leave feedback/live reactions I LOVE THAT SHIT! ok enjoy guys mwah <3

-

“You’re joking, right Paige?” A frustrated voice comes through the speaker as I lean back on the couch, spreading my legs to find a more comfortable position. The game of fortnite me, Aubrey and Ice had been planning on for like a week was turned down, not wanting the phone’s mic picking up the sounds.

“‘M afraid not,” I mumble into the phone, biting my lower lip in concentration. I was so close to getting a kill if I could just finally hang up, but here I still was, fifteen minutes of going back and forth on some topic that didn’t need all this drama with a girl whose last name I’d forgotten.

“But it’s my birthday,” Clara whines into my ear. Watching my character get killed, I groan and tilt my head back, throwing the controller onto my grey sweats.

“I know, baby. Look we can do a lil something next week, lemme make it up to you,” I say into the phone, needing to get this girl to get off my ass. “I promise.” I didn’t mean that though, it was just empty words.

Truth was I just needed some time, after what happened the other night with Valerie I had felt my thoughts chipping away at me. The things running through my head had made sleeping impossible and practice even worse. The lack of control I felt when she was around me was terrifying. I needed a night just with my girls, badly.

I felt tense, distracted.

“Clara, whatchu want me to do? it's an emergency.”

To get away from Clara’s plans for the night Aubrey and Ice had helped me to come up with an elaborate lie about me “pulling a muscle in my wrist and it needed resting”. I hadn’t found it as believable but for Clara it worked.

The girl’s soft sigh comes through the phone. “Fine, ok. But you gotta make it up to me.”

“I will I will,” I mumble, unaware of what I’m really saying, stuffing my mouth with a fistful of popcorn from a bowl on the couch. Sitting cross legged on the floor, Ice lets out a loud laugh, quickly covering her mouth as I give her a scolding look, pointing to the phone. Thankfully Clara doesn’t hear a thing.

As the new game begins I quickly grab the controller from my grey sweats, I needed to wrap up this call quick.

“I wish you’d let me come take ca-”

“Gotta go Clara, happy birthday,” I yell hurriedly into the phone before Clara could even finish, hanging up the phone and throwing it onto the couch which makes Aubrey and Ice snicker.

-

“Bro you suck at this game!” I yell at Aubrey who looks at me offended.

“Nah, that wasn’t my fault!! It was Ice!!” she scoffs.

The ringing of my phone interrupts the conversation. Before I can pick it up, or even complain about Clara getting clingy, the sound stops. Not to sound too cocky or like a piece of shit but if it was one of the girls on my roster, that ringing wouldn’t have stopped for a minute. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the power I had over some of these chicks, how they stayed up till 4am just to see if I called them up. They didn’t need to let me know it’s what they did, I knew all too well.

I grab my phone and quickly unlock it. With wide eyes and heart fluttering, I dial back.

“Paige I thought we were gonna have a girls’ night,” Aubrey groans but my finger comes up to shush her when I hear a soft voice come through the phone.

“Hey?” 

“Valerie?” I ask, I can barely hear her from the loud traffic nearly burying the sound of her voice.

“Wh- why are you callin’ me?” she asks, her words are slurred enough to let me know she’s drunk. Even so, hearing her sweet voice might as well have been a choir of angels singing. 

“You called me, mama,” I chuckle softly, walking away from the girls to hear better.

There’s a moment of silence between us as I slide into my own dorm room, closing the door behind me, leaning against it. 

“Oh… uh I was trying to call Paige,” she murmurs and loudly gasps. I can hear her slapping her own mouth and a cocky smirk grows on my face. “JAY, JAY I WAS. I was trying to call Jay.”

The bite on my lower lip stuffles the laugh I let out. Honestly, it made me feel a little smug knowing she said my name instead of hers. I wonder if I was really on her mind that much. It had been quite a long time since I had wondered anything like that.

“Ohh right… Justine,” I joke, the name making me giggle each time. This time, Valerie giggles too. 

“Don’t make fun P.”

“Alright alright,” I chuckle walking over to my bed and sitting down on it, pulling down my sweats a little so my boxers peak out. Faint screaming in the background of the call reminds me of why Val called in the first place - she’s drunk. “Woah, where you at Val?”

A deep sigh comes through the phone. “I dunno where my friends went, they were my rideee,” she whines, the sound of the cars making it hard to hear her. I lean forward resting my elbow on the knees.

“Did you call ‘em?” I ask, concerned over how drunk she was. How could her friends just dip? I’m gonna need to have a word with them.

“I’m nodding,” she slurs out and groans frustratedly. “Such a long way to walk,” Valerie whines again.

I’m already reaching for my keys when the words come out of my mouth. “Drop your location Val.”

She groans. “I’m walking by the highway.”

“You’re WHAT?” I yell into the phone, throwing on a puffer vest over my grey sweatshirt, struggling to get my shoes on. This girl was gonna get herself killed I swear.

“Relaaxxx.”

“Sit down and drop your location, I’m comin to get you ma.”

“Paige you’re so dr-”

“Sit your ass down. I’m so forreal now Valerie.” I command, without even waving a careless bye to the girls as I rush out, the plans for a girl’s night quickly forgotten. After a whine and a sigh from the drunk girl on the line I hear her set herself onto the ground.

“Fine,” her voice murmurs and I sigh in relief.

All of the fury I felt at her for being so careless goes away when I see her, in boots and a leather jacket thrown carelessly over her skimpy dress, sitting on the ground playing with the ends of her golden brown hair. I pull the car over, quickly rushing to her. How could her friends leave her in a state like that? From now on I should watch over her all the time, just to make sure she doesn’t get in trouble.

Nevermind her friends, how could Jay let this happen? If Valerie was my girl she would not be alone like this, yet alone going out without me at all. She needs someone who takes care of her, who truly cherishes every single thing about her. 

“Paigeyyy,” she smiles as I reach down and pick her up, her hair was a mess and eyes bloodshot and tired. There’s a strong smell of alcohol as Valerie wraps her arms around me, but I don’t mind. I wanted to be mad at her for being so irresponsible, for making me come get her. But I couldn’t be.

I grin as I help steady her. Anyone could notice she’s gleaming looking up at me. Usually that would make my chest tighten, make me feel sick and claustrophobic. Now, for some reason, I felt like gleaming too.

“C’mon silly girl, before you get in more trouble,” I murmur, opening the door and making sure she gets in the car, helping her with the seatbelt.

“I got it Paige,” she laughs as I reach over her lap, grabbing the belt but I slap her hand away gently, biting the inside of my cheek to stifle the way I wanted to smile, the butterflies growing inside me.

“Lemme do it ma,” I tell her hoarsely. She’s grinning at me stupidly as I buckle her in, my fingers running along her neck to fix the belt. When our eyes meet just for a moment, it takes every bit of my self discipline not to kiss her, the way her tongue slides over her lips enticingly.

The drive back is quiet, soft R&B the only sound filling the car. I hum along to the songs, tapping the steering wheel to the beat. Valerie watches as she rests her head against the seat. An involuntary smirk takes over my face, my eyes flicking from her to the road to my speed. I was driving much more carefully than usual, I had something precious to take home.

“You admirin’ the view?” I tease earning a lighthearted scoff from Valerie.

“No I’m… thinking,” she explains slowly, moving her eyes to the road too. Suddenly she wasn’t so giggly, but seemed to be sobering up.

“I got some water in the back if you need,” I tell her, already reaching for it, other hand on the wheel as I lean back on the driver’s seat.

She reaches for it with me, our fingertips brushing against each other as I hand it over. “Thanks,” she murmurs and takes a few big gulps.

Valerie’s shoulders slump as she takes a deep sigh, I know her well enough that something was clearly on her mind. 

“I lied P,” she says, her voice small. For a moment a wave of confusion washes over me, and I look at her expectantly. My first assumption is she’s talking about what happened between us in the bathroom, about how she hadn’t told Jay about it.

“‘S okay Justine don’t have to know,” I quickly console but Valerie is shaking her head.

“No I meant… Fuck, I mean I did mean to call you,” she let’s out, frustrated. “It wasn’t an accident.”

I swallow, feeling a heat rise to my cheeks. Was I… blushing? I must be more whipped than I realised.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, my tone a little too needy for my liking - I didn’t want her to think, no, to know I cared. That it mattered to me. Valerie could never know how I felt. I would just end up fucking everything up, at least now I had basketball. That’s enough.

“I just… I dunno I don’t wanna go to my dorm,” Valerie sighs, fidgeting with her fingers on her lap.

“Why’s that?”

“Jay’s waiting for me,” Valerie says with a slight shake in her voice.

Oh. 

At first I’d been more jealous than I’d like to admit, the idea of Valerie, my Valerie, with someone else made me sick. But running into them at that party I knew Justine could never do what I could. But most importantly, Valerie didn’t shine the way she did with me with Justine. I had an inkling there was nothing to be jealous of, and got my confirmation in the bathroom. But now, I only felt more validated. She didn’t even want to be around her. She drunk called me, not her.

“‘S that why you got so fucked up? Because of Jay?” I try to sound nonchalant, like I didn’t care. But I needed to know for sure. I needed to know I wasn’t delusional in thinking she couldn’t just move on from me, from us.

“Something like that,” she chuckles and shifts in the seat, sipping her water still. Without thinking it through, what it might mean, what it says about my feelings, the words slip out.

“I can take you to mine,” I suggest, knowing full well my biggest rule was not letting girls sleep over. I guess my rules had gone way out the window with Valerie.

She scoffs and shakes her head, my heart aching at her disapproval. “No P, it can’t happen anymore, I mean it this time.”

A scoff leaves my mouth as I pull up to the campus parking lot.

“I didn’t mean that dumbass, I mean just to sleep,” I groan, parking my jeep. “I’ll even sleep on the floor.”

Valerie looks at me wide eyed and dumbfounded. Guess I wasn’t coming off as nonchalant as I’d have liked. I felt a strange feeling grow inside me that I could only call nervousness. It had been a while since a girl had made me feel anything even close to it.

“Okay,” Val nods and a wave of relief takes over me - I didn’t want her to go yet. Being with her felt good.

“Okay,” I repeat watching her start getting out of the car. I do the same and we head towards my dorm. Without thinking about it much, my hand wraps around her waist, whether to hold her up or to touch her I’m not sure.

Jana and Allie are in the kitchen talking, their heads peeking out when we come in the door. Meeting their gazes I realise I have never introduced a girl to my teammates.

“Yo, uh, this is Valerie,” I say a little awkwardly, the new situation making me unsure of how to act. Allie and Jana share a look that I pray the drunk brunette clinging to my arm didn’t notice. Looking down I see she’s too busy struggling getting her shoes off. Without thinking about it, I kneel down and my fingers unbuckle the strappy heeled sandals she was wearing, my touch on her skin tender and careful.

“Hey girl,” Jana says intrigued, waving her hand at us. As Valerie nearly trips, she lets out a loud giggle, my hand gripping her thigh, steadying her.

“Whoa there,” I chuckle, standing up from the ground as the brunette slaps her face with her hand, bashfully.

“I’m sorry I make a much better first impression when I’m not drunk,” her sweet voice lets out and somewhere deep down I feel my heart flutter at the idea of her wanting to make a good impression on my friends. Jana and Allie both let out friendly laughs as I guide Valerie towards my room.

“She’s gonna sleep here tonight, that cool?” I ask as we pass my roomies, who are both nodding but clearly shocked at the prospect of me letting a girl sleep over.

I bring the brunette to my room by her hips, closing the door behind us as she throws herself face first onto my purple sheets. She looked good like that, in my room, on my bed, burying her nose into my blanket. For a fleeting moment I let myself dream of an alternate universe where she could be here waiting for me, all the time. Only for a moment though.

“C’mon ma let’s get you ready for bed,” I suggest softly, walking to the bed. She groans and flips onto her back, my eyes flickering to her upper thighs where her dress had hiked up. A sudden need to touch her comes over me, but I push it away. It wouldn’t be right like this.

“But your bed’s so comfyyy,” Valerie lets out a whine as she stretches, her pretty eyes fluttering shut. I can’t help the smile that forms on my face, my heart aching at how cute she looked like this - drunk and tired, mascara flaking underneath her eyes and a small pout on her lips.

Throwing her a navy blue Uconn shirt to sleep in is finally enough to get her to sit back up, her eyelids half closed as her hands start pulling her dress down.

With wide eyes I quickly turn my back to her, staring at the wall. As much as I wanted to, it didn't feel right to watch her change. Valerie only giggles, and I hear her stand up and shimmy out of her clothes, my mouth growing dry from the filthy thoughts in my head right now, the way she was completely bare behind me.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before P,” she says teasingly and I almost groan, my mind jumping through memories of the way she looked in just a pair of panties, the curve of her ass, the way her tits sat pretty on her body, that long golden brown hair trailing down her back. Fuck. I felt myself getting wet. I rub my jaw frustratedly, trying to shake my dirty thoughts.

“Just get dressed Val,” I murmur, my voice hoarse with need. Finally, she obliges, throwing on the t-shirt I gave her. It’s not enough to stop my filthy thoughts, seeing her in my shirt and a pair of white lacy panties, thick thighs all on display, nipples hard and visible through the shirt. No. This wasn’t the time.

Valerie is about to crash back into the bed right when I grab her waist to keep her upright.

“Wanna sleep,” she whines as I guide her towards the bathroom.

“I know ma, in a little bit I promise,” I nearly whisper. It was the first time in my life I had promised anything to a girl and meant it.

Closing the bathroom door, I sit Valerie on the counter, her feet dangling off the edge which makes me smile. Grabbing a brand new toothbrush I try to hand it to Valerie, but her head is almost nodding, eyes completely shut now. This girl would be the death of me.

I wet the toothbrush, and gently holding her face, I brush her teeth. My face is only inches from hers as I watch her start to smile, realising what I was doing. For a moment her eyes flicker open and meet mine, and I feel something I have never felt before. I can’t name it, or quite place it, but the warmth in my chest, the blush on my cheeks and the way my breath hitched made itself known.

“Thank you,” Valerie murmurs, her mouth full of foam. She spits it into the sink, rinsing her mouth as I hold her hair, so incredibly softly, as to not hurt or disturb her.

“Let’s get this makeup off mama,” I say mostly to myself, wiping it all off with some micellar water, trying to be as gentle as I could. Her brown eyes roam my face, making me feel flustered.

“What about my skincare routine?” Valerie asks with a furrow of her brows and I chuckle, shaking my head, going over her face with a cotton pad.

“You don’t want me doin’ that, trust,” I murmur as I’m finally done. Watching her, the way her long dark lashes fluttered, her plump lips and soft skin made a shiver run down my spine. She must’ve been the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, even more so like this.

I suddenly notice that my hands are rubbing on the skin of her bare thighs as she watches up at me. I can’t help myself when I lean down and press my lips against her forehead, the tenderness of it making my eyes close. Valerie hums and wraps her arms around my neck, her legs doing the same as I pick her up like that, holding her up by her thighs. Her skin was soft and warm underneath my fingertips, sending sparks all over me. 

I carry her to my bed as she clings to me, gently laying her down on my bed and tucking the blanket over her, brushing a strand of hair off her face.

“I’mma get you some water and go sleep on the couch ok?” I murmur, my fingers brushing against her cheek. Her hands urgently grab my wrist and pull me closer.

“Don’t go,” she whispers and my heart nearly breaks at the way her voice sounds, pleading. 

“You sure Val?” I ask carefully.

“Please.”

It doesn’t take more than that to have me throwing off my clothes, leaving me in black boxers and a Nike sports bra and climbing into bed next to her. I carefully lay my head down onto the pillow, studying her features. The curve of her nose, the way her eyebrows arched, the hint of red on her cheeks from the alcohol. Her eyes flicker open, meeting mine as we stare at each other in the dim room. I could feel the heat of her breath on my face, and she inches her head closer, our noses brushing against each other. I nearly whimper at how good it felt, being this close to her.

My blue eyes travel to her lips, the way they glistened as her tongue brushed over them, the way her lower lip was that much more plump than the upper one. In the haze of the night, it’s like I’m outside of my body, unable to control myself when I lean in and kiss her. Immediately Valerie hums, and I think I’m in heaven when her mouth opens to move against mine.

We had kissed plenty of times. But it was never without fucking afterwards. This was completely new, kissing just because. I didn’t know kissing with no end goal could feel this good. I breathe heavy and loud through my nose as our lips move against each other, Valerie’s hand pulling me closer from the back of my neck. My hand on her waist slides underneath the t-shirt and I press my body flush against hers. I feel all of her, the bare skin of her legs wrapping into mine, her breasts against me. But it’s enough for me. Just to have her like this. 

“P?” Valerie whispers, as I nuzzle my nose against her, breathless from the kiss.

“Yeah?” I murmur softly, the overwhelming warmth in my chest feeling dizzying.

“I-” she hesitates. “I know you don’t… like when girls spend the night-”

I stop her with a kiss, more for my own sake than hers. It might drive me insane if I have to think about it for longer than ten seconds. The way I was bending all my own rules, the feelings deep inside me. I felt terrified. I didn’t wanna think about it right now.

“You needed me Val,” I whisper against her lips, knowing it wouldn’t be a solution but that explanation would do. It’s not like I was in love, but I did care about her to an extent I guess. And I would never let her be in danger. Ever. I helped because I wanted her safe and because deep down I was a good person. But it has nothing to do with love.

I wrap my arms around the girl next to me, pulling her face into the crook of my neck, her leg swinging over my waist and nuzzling into me. I gently run my hand up and down her back until I feel her go limp in my arms and just for a second I let myself inhale the scent of her, my nose buried into her hair. Maybe, just maybe, if I wasn’t Paige Bueckers, if I wasn’t me, this might have had something to do with love.

-

As the morning sun shines in through the window I feel myself stir awake, immediately met with a pounding in my head as my eyes flutter open. I feel a tight grip around my waist, holding me tight. For a moment I get the uneasy feeling that it’s Jay, but then I hear the light snore of Paige in my ear. Warmth spreads all over my body when I feel her pull me closer in her sleep, her nose pressed against the back of my neck.

A soft smile spreads on my face as I remember last night, Paige picking me up, driving me back, taking care of me, letting me stay over. My stomach fills with butterflies knowing this isn’t what Paige did for any girl. The only thing that mattered to her was ball and that’s it. Girls were just a distraction, something fun to do. But she didn’t care, right? Then why did it feel like she did, when she took care of me last night?

An incredible thirst from my hungover takes over, and I carefully peel Paige’s hand from my waist. Thinking I was sneaky enough to make my escape, I start to climb out of the bed when the strong arm quickly pulls me back down, pressing my back into her front once more.

“Where you going?” Paige’s voice is deep and hoarse from sleep, words muffled against my neck as she holds me down, nuzzling her face into my skin.

“Need some water,” I murmur trying to flatten my hair and push the hand away but Paige doesn’t fold. All she does is shake her head. 

“No,” she murmurs and holds me even tighter. It’s almost overwhelming, the way I was getting affection from her. For a moment I try and figure out why she would act like this, but then she kisses my shoulder through the navy shirt and I forget all about it.

“Paigeee,” I giggle but she only keeps shaking her head, her hands tightening around me.

“A lil longer,” she hums, her voice tickling against my ear.

“But I’m thirsty.”

“Fine.”

With a groan, Paige gives my cheek a kiss and climbs out of bed, putting on her basketball shorts and going out to fetch the water. I scooch up on the bed, quickly fixing my hair and trying to make myself look presentable when Paige walks in, carrying two bottles.

“There you go princess,” she grins. Her hair is matted and blue eyes tired as she gets back into bed next to me but I’m quite sure she’s never looked better. However, a sliver of fear in the back of my mind is nibbling away at me. I didn’t understand why she was acting this way, usually Paige’s motives were clear to me. Not this time.

Before I can spiral Paige leans towards me and presses a gentle kiss on my lips, her hand holding my cheek as she does. I kiss her back softly, my stomach twisting. Could she really be this good to me?

Paige pulls back and smiles. “Good morning Val,” she hums with another peck to my lips. I let myself smile back, deciding to worry about this later.

“Morning P,” I whisper and pull back to sip on my water, it soothing the pounding in my head. 

“Hungover?” the blonde chuckles but I shake my head, though maybe I did feel the shakes a little bit. 

Paige bites her lower lip not believing a word I said with a knowing smirk. She grabs her glasses, putting them on herself to see me better in the morning light. I can’t lie, she looks fucking amazing in her glasses and it makes it hard to ignore the ache between my legs when she looks like that - silver chain with a cross on her neck, sports bra, shorts and those fucking glasses.

I snuggle back underneath the blanket, pulling it all the way over my head, like that could somehow hide my filthy thoughts.

“Yo, where you going,” Paige laughs hoarsely, pulling the blanket away. I quickly bury my face in the pillow to hide.

“I don’t look good in the mornings,” I murmur, a blush rising to my cheeks from the way she was staring, let alone the dirty thoughts in my head.

Paige snorts and brushes my hair away from my face. “Oh so you care that much what I think huh?” her voice is smug and it makes me slap her arm, making her hiss.

She slides underneath the blanket too, her head resting next to my pillow. I can feel her watchful eyes roaming my face.

“Get outta here with that shit Val, you know you’re fucking gorgeous,” she murmurs, her words lighthearted but to me they mean more. My stomach filling with butterflies, I finally turn to face her, eyes meeting hers.

“You really think so?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. I was a confident woman, someone who took care of herself, didn’t need anyone’s approval. But with Paige I found myself craving it. I hated it

With a roll of her eyes, Paige smirks and pulls me on top of her. “C’mere ma,” she murmurs and her hand drags me down for a kiss by the back of my head. I sigh into her lips, my body against hers and legs straddling her as Paige’s big hands explored my body, slipping underneath the t-shirt and brushing against my side. All the need accumulated since last night, no, since that night in the bathroom finally tips over.

I break the kiss to sit back up and pull off the t-shirt, Paige’s mouth agape as she looks up at me, wetting her lips as her eyes wander around my body, letting out a heavy breath as her gaze lands onto my breasts.

“Perfect girl,” she coos, bringing her hand to cup my breast. Goosebumps cover my skin as I lower myself back to kiss her jaw. I had completely forgotten about Jay at this point, all I saw was Paige.

My hands are quick to find her shorts, pulling them down with urgency while my lips suck on her neck. Usually she reminded me not to leave marks but this time all I hear from her is heavy breathing and quiet groans, bucking her hips up at me. I grin against her neck, testing the waters and sucking a little, enough to leave a little mark. Paige only hums and helps me by throwing her shorts onto the floor.

My fingertips sneak underneath her sports bra, my other hand pushing Paige’s rising hips down, seeking to find contact somewhere. 

“Take it off,” I whimper and watch her lust filled gaze never break eye contact as she pulls the bra off, leaving her only in the black boxers. I found my mouth salivating for her, wanting to bury myself between her legs. But I must take my time, I needed to. I needed to drag it out as long as I could.

I watch her hiss and throw her head back as my tongue swirls around her nipple, feeling it turn hard underneath my tongue. Biting on it gently, I grind my clothed core down on her thigh, my wetness growing unbearable. 

“Val, you’re killing me,” Paige nearly whines and I giggle, leaving red marks on her breasts, my hands gripping her thighs tight.

“Good,” is all I say as I continue my descent, placing sloppy kisses all over her abs, my mind wandering to the dirty thoughts of what they’d feel like flexing under my pussy, grinding my clit against them. I needed to keep that in mind for the future. But not now, I needed to taste her.

Paige groans frustratedly, and I feel her hands coming to my head to push me down. I slap her hands away, pinning them by her side, lifting my head to look at her. She could easily push my grip away and take me, but Paige was letting me have my fun, my fingers digging into her wrists.

“Baby, c’mon,” she whines, looking down at me with her teeth biting down on her lip, brows furrowed and hips bucking. 

“Keep those hands to yourself Bueckers,” I murmur, my lips kissing along the band of her boxers. I hear her groan, arching to my touch. I lift my gaze to her, my eyes wide. “Oh, you want these off?” I ask, acting dumb, slowly beginning to pull down the boxers.

“You’re such a bitch,” Paige says, trying to sound serious but a small whine comes through in her voice, making me grin. 

“I think you like it,” I tease, finally pulling the boxers off her. “I think it makes you wet,” I grin seeing the way she’s glistening for me as I spread her legs apart, making room for myself.

“Fuck it does ma,” Paige moans, watching me descend inbetween her legs, her hand finding my brown hair and pulling it off my face. I maintain eye contact, my own core leaking through my panties at this point as I kiss her inner thighs, feeling the way they tremble underneath my lips.

“That’s fucked up, you should go to therapy,” I grin, my mouth slowly inching closer to where she needed me most. “That’s gotta be some kinda- mmph,” suddenly Paige’s hands both pull me to her core, my mouth buried in her cunt as she lets out a guttural moan.

“Ohhhh shit Val that’s it,” she groans as I take the hint, my tongue swirling all around her folds, softly lapping against her clit just the way she likes. Her taste on my tongue feels like heaven and I feel my own eyes roll back from how good it felt to have her like this. My arms wrap around her thighs, pulling her impossibly closer as my lips suck on her clit, earning desperate whines from her.

“Mmmh, that’s it, just like that ma,” she moans and I hear her hiss as my tongue slips inside her, nose rubbing against her clit. Paige is making a mess of my face, and the sheets but neither of us bother to care at this point. She leans up against her elbows to see my ass in the mirrored closet opposite to her bed, letting out a groan as she sees the reflection of me bent over, eating her, a wet spot visible on my panties.

She leans over and I feel a loud smack on my ass as I continue to make a mess of her with my tongue, alternating between sucking her clit and licking sloppily. “Mmph,” I moan against her, it sending vibrations all over her body. That was enough for me to feel the muscles on her thighs start to tighten.

“Taste so good baby, fuck,” I whimper on her pussy, making Paige let out a guttural groan, her grip in my hair tightening further, guiding my mouth just right.

“Such a fucking good girl,” she hisses, watching me in the mirror, her eyes heavy as she found herself getting closer just from the way my tongue is lapping her up. “So fucking- ahh shit, sexy,” 

“Yeah you think I’m sexy?” I whimper against her dripping cunt, shaking my head with my tongue buried in her folds. Paige’s eyes flutter shut and she nods, jaw going slack.

“Perfect, so good for me,” she mumbles, barely able to hold herself together. “Gonna make me– shit, gonna make me cum.”

I keep lapping her, listening for her reactions and holding her still as her body started to squirm underneath me, building to her orgasm. “Baby I need you to cum,” I murmur, my jaw hurting but the sounds coming out of Paige’s mouth making it all worth it.

“Please, Paige,” I whine and that does it. I feel her gasp, her hand gripping my hair and burying my face into her. I could barely breathe but I don’t mind as my mouth works tirelessly to get her over the edge.

“Valerie, oh fuck,” she groans, her head tilting back and back arching as she reaches her orgasm, grinding herself against my face. It’s so hot I nearly come too. I guide her through it, licking her until her moans turn high pitched and her hands in my hair ease up.

Panting, she brushes her hair off her face as I wipe my face onto her thigh, watching her from between her legs.

“Goddamn baby,” she says hoarsely, trying to catch her breath. Giggling, I climb back up on top of her, Paige’s hand slapping my ass hard enough to make me let out a squeal. 

“Stop, you’ll leave a bruise,” I complain, but Paige grins arrogantly, pulling me into a sloppy kiss. I moan hard, feeling the dampness in my panties growing unbearable.

“That’s the point ma,” she chuckles against my lips, suddenly flipping me over and spreading my legs wide as she sits between them, biting her lips and gazing down at me. “Fuck,” she groans looking from my damp panties to my dark eyes. For a moment she looks almost a little flustered, trying to find the words.

“I uh, I got something new,” she says, her cheeks turning even redder. Curious, I lean up against the pillows behind me. “For us, I mean.” 

Wait, she knew I was seeing someone, and she was seeing someone too, but she got something just for us two? What game was she trying to play? It felt impossible to figure her out.

Before my mind begins to race further, Paige has dug out a blue vibrator wand and is kissing me more tenderly than before. She pulls away a little, clearly hesitating for a moment.

“I don’t want you using the same toy on me and your other bitches,” I tell her a little offended but Paige quickly shakes her head.

“No no no, Valerie ‘s not like that,” she urgently stops me, kissing me softly. “It’s just for us, for you. No one else.”

Her words sound soft, almost tender against my lips which only makes me grow wetter between my legs. I didn’t know what parts were an act and what were genuine. All I knew is I needed her badly.

The moment I nod, Paige’s hands slide underneath the band of my panties, sliding them down to my ankles tenderly, her kisses soft and sloppy against my lips, moving to my neck. The breathy whimper I let out makes Paige let out a heavy breath as her hands spread my legs wide apart, wetness dripping out of me already.

“So pretty,” she murmurs hoarsely, licking her lips as she grabs the vibrator, the quiet, steady buzzing signalling it was turned on. I watch her wide eyes as she brings it to my thighs.

“Paige please,” I whine out squirming as she kneels between my legs and places her knees on my thighs to hold them wide open and steady. She watches me writhe underneath her, nearly gasping for air from how bad she loves seeing me like this.

“Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head, the vibrator ghosting my cunt to find my opposite thigh, vibrating against it. “You know what to call me.”

Fuck. She had gotten like this once before, made me call her something that drove both her and me wild. She knew I would remember what it was.

“Fuck. Daddy, please,”

With that Paige presses the toy against my swollen, sensitive clit, immediately forcing wetness to drip out of me as I gasp and grab onto the sheets around us. She gasps with me, like she’s feeling it too as my legs immediately start to shake, wanting to close around the toy, but Paige’s legs are pinning me down. It was way too much, overstimulating in every sense.

“Too much P,” I cry out but Paige shakes her head, shushing me as she towers over me. 

“Just a lil more ma, you can take it,” she coos, leaning down to press kisses on my open mouth, turning the vibrator on a higher setting. “‘S gonna feel so good I promise.”

I feel my eyes grow teary as the toy vibrates against my soaking cunt ruthlessly, when suddenly all of the overstimulation turns into nothing but pleasure. My eyes roll back and I let out a loud moan.

“Daddy, shit,” I whine, my back arching and my nails digging into Paige’s back as she holds the toy steady on me, slowly starting to circle my clit with it making a quick mess of me.

“You’re so wet baby,” Paige gasps shocked as she glances down at the way her hand and the sheets were glistening. But I barely notice, already feeling that coil in my abdomen start to tighten. I’m gasping desperately now, hands grabbing anything they could, moaning loudly as Paige kissed my jaw and neck groaning against my skin.

“Daddy I’m gonna come-” I cry out, tears spilling from my eyes, Paige moving the vibrator against me sloppily, driving me to the edge.

“Fuck, already?” Paige asks, surprised but impressed, her nose pressing against mine. My legs tremble desperately as her free hand slides up to hold my jaw.

I nod, my eyes squeezing shut as I’m just about to roll over the edge. Suddenly Paige pulls the toy away from me, making my eyes snap open and leaving my core throbbing, no, aching for relief.

“What the fuck?” I ask but Paige just grins down at me. 

“You didn’t say please,” she smirks, making me roll my eyes.

“I don’t have to say please,”

“Yes the fuck you do.”

“No I don’t,”

“Fine if you don’t wanna come ma.” 

Frustrated, I groan. I simultaneously hated and loved when Paige made me beg for it. I hated giving her the satisfaction. But lying underneath her with my cunt throbbing and tears rolling down my cheeks I would’ve done anything to come for her.

“Please,” I say, my cheeks blushing as I look up into her blue eyes. She was enjoying this a little too much.

“Please what?” Paige teases, pushing the vibrator against my inner thigh again. It makes me moan softly, wanting to buck my hips closer, but it was useless.

“Please daddy,” I finally whine, earning a smile from Paige.

“Good girl.”

The vibrator is pushed against my clit again, now turned up all the way, forcing a moan to spill from my lips as I feel my orgasm quickly start to build once more.

“Open your mouth,” Paige commands and I don’t even think about it when I push my tongue out and feel her spit into my mouth before kissing my lips fiercely, moving the toy in a circular motion against my swollen clit.

“Daddy, fuck, please, please, please,” I plead, not even completely sure what for as my mind turns hazy and my body trembles uncontrollably.

“Such a good girl for daddy,” she praises with a hoarse voice, nose pressed tight against mine as she kisses my open mouth, bringing me to the edge.

“C’mon pretty girl come for me.”

I feel my body ride over the edge, all the muscles in my body tightening, back arching and a high pitched moan leaving my lips as the pleasure finally releases, waves of ecstasy rushing over me.

“Aww shit, look at that ma,” Paige mumbles, looking between our bodies watching the way my cunt was squirting all over her arm, legs and bed. My mind turns completely blank, eyes shut tight as my nails nearly draw blood from her back, the pleasure overwhelming me. 

I swear I black out for a moment, only returning to consciousness from how suddenly overstimulating and almost painful the toy felt against my clit.

“Stopp, stop stop stop,” I whine pushing Paige’s hand away as she chuckles but obliges. The quiet buzzing of the toy ends as it’s thrown onto the mattress and the blonde crashes on top of me, nuzzling her nose into my neck.

I take a moment to try and catch my breath before I realise what just happened, and what a mess I had made. Looking down at us and the wet spot we were lying in I sigh, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Fuck I’m sorry P,” I murmur but she pulls away, looking at me shocked.

“For?”

“For, well…” I mumble and point to the mess but she only smugly smiles and shakes her head.

“You’re kidding, ma that’s so sexy,” she arrogantly says.

My eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

Paige licks her lips and nods. “Ye, really. Never made you squirt before.”

I blush a little as Paige presses a soft, tender kiss on my lips - almost loving.

“C’mon let’s go shower,” she murmurs.

I giggle a little, shaking my head. “I cannot stand yet.”

“Oh,” Paige laughs and looks down at my legs that are visibly still trembling.

“I’ll carry you then,” she says and easily scoops me up, walking us both towards the shower. 

I rest my head on her shoulder, watching the way her nose turns up at the end, the way her lower lip pouts and how her jawline sharpens as she tilts her head. Something about her had changed. Lately she had been more caring, kind, tender. I didn’t understand it. All I knew is the way my heart fluttered and my mind eased up around her, I was in big trouble with Paige Bueckers.

-

taglist:  @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @bueckersfive @onlyhereforpazzi @lovegalor333 @frankoceanlvr303039 @angryflowerwitch @mamixdanni @rosemariiaa @d3arapril @vbueckers @sageworld @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @justliketoreadsowhat @oreo2sblog @sftlyortega @slvt4her @julieloveswbb @vsz333 @faeries-posts @vamptizm @ellapurnellmybeloved @ivorygoal @onlyhereforpazzi @thelightknight21 @paigeluvvr @absolutelydreadful @imamartini @lupinqs @authentic-girl03 @isurpussygreen @xxloveralways14 (SORRY IF I FORGOT TO TAG)

[dissapointu]

Headcanons: Arcane Characters with an Autistic S/O

Jinx

• Jinx loves how unique and vibrant your perspective on the world is. She’s endlessly curious about your special interests and will dive headfirst into learning everything she can about them.

• She doesn’t always pick up on your cues if you’re feeling overstimulated, but she’s quick to notice when you start withdrawing or avoiding eye contact. “Okay, okay, too much chaos—let’s go somewhere quieter.”

• If you’re nonverbal at times or need to communicate differently, Jinx finds it fascinating rather than frustrating. “Oh, a hand signal for that? Sweet! Now I know the secret code.”

• She’s surprisingly gentle when you’re feeling overwhelmed. Her usual high-energy demeanor softens, and she’ll sit quietly beside you, sometimes offering a comforting object or fidget toy she made for you.

• Jinx often invents quirky gadgets to make your life easier, like noise-canceling earmuffs or sensory-friendly lighting. “Tada! Jinxed it just for you.”

Vi

• Vi is fiercely protective of you, especially in situations where others might not understand your needs. “They don’t get it? Too bad for them. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

• She quickly picks up on what helps you feel safe and calm, whether it’s pressure hugs, your favorite textures, or a quiet space. She’s got you covered.

• If someone tries to judge or dismiss you for being different, Vi will immediately put them in their place. “They better watch their mouths. Nobody messes with my girl.”

• She loves listening to you talk about your passions. Even if she doesn’t understand everything, she’ll ask questions and try to keep up. “Wait, so this character can do what? That’s awesome!”

• Vi is great at helping you navigate tricky social situations. She’s your biggest cheerleader but also respects when you need time alone.

Sevika

• Sevika is surprisingly intuitive when it comes to your needs. She might not always say much, but she’ll notice when you’re struggling and adjust her behavior to make you more comfortable.

• If loud environments in the Last Drop overwhelm you, she’ll guide you somewhere quieter without a word, her hand firm but reassuring on your back.

• She has infinite patience for your routines or sensory needs, never making you feel weird or ashamed. “You need to do it that way? Fine. Whatever works for you.”

• Sevika’s lap becomes your safe space during overstimulating moments. She’ll let you curl up against her while she glares at anyone who dares interrupt your peace.

• While she’s not overly sentimental, Sevika has a subtle way of making you feel loved. She’ll gift you sensory-friendly items, like soft blankets or fidget tools, without making a big deal out of it.

Silco

• Silco is incredibly understanding of your differences. He values individuality, so your quirks are something he finds fascinating and endearing.

• He’s meticulous about creating a calm, structured environment for you. “Routine is key, my dear. It will help you thrive in a chaotic world.”

• If you struggle with eye contact, he never forces it, instead focusing on your words and tone to understand you. “Your thoughts are what matter, not where you look.”

• Silco has a way of quietly asserting your boundaries to others without making a scene, ensuring you feel respected and safe.

• He appreciates your honesty and straightforwardness. In a world full of manipulation, your sincerity is a breath of fresh air.

Vander

• Vander is incredibly warm and supportive. He loves listening to you talk about your passions and always encourages you to pursue them.

• He’s quick to notice when something is bothering you and will gently guide you to a quiet corner of the bar to decompress. “Take your time, love. No rush.”

• Vander is amazing at making accommodations for you without drawing attention to them. He’ll keep the bar’s noise levels manageable or arrange quiet mornings just for the two of you.

• He’s a natural at offering grounding touch, like a hand on your back or a bear hug, to help you feel safe and centered.

• If you’re ever overwhelmed by social situations, Vander will step in as your buffer, redirecting attention away from you and making sure you feel supported.

Ekko

• Ekko loves how your unique perspective inspires new ideas for his inventions and plans. “I never thought about it like that before. You’re a genius!”

• He’s super patient and understanding when you need extra time or space. He’ll happily sit with you in silence or create a quiet spot in the Firelights’ hideout.

• Ekko is great at turning your interests into shared activities. Whether it’s exploring something you love or working on a sensory-friendly project together, he’s all in.

• He’s also protective but in a gentle way. If anyone makes you uncomfortable, Ekko will firmly but calmly handle the situation.

• He loves watching you stim or express joy in your unique way. “You’re just… so you. And that’s my favorite thing about you.”

Jayce

• Jayce is fascinated by how your mind works. He’s always asking questions to better understand your needs and how he can support you.

• If you struggle with sensory issues, he’ll invent practical solutions to make your life easier. “Okay, try this—soundproofing tech, lightweight, and it looks cool too.”

• Jayce is incredibly affirming and will constantly remind you how much he admires you. “You’re amazing just the way you are, you know that?”

• He’s great at standing up for you in social situations, using his charm and confidence to deflect attention if you’re feeling overwhelmed.

• Jayce loves seeing you light up when talking about your special interests. He’ll sit and listen for hours, genuinely enthralled by your enthusiasm.

Viktor

• Viktor is deeply empathetic and values your unique way of thinking. He often asks for your input on his projects, appreciating your fresh perspective.

• He’s very mindful of your routines and boundaries, always ensuring you feel comfortable in his presence. “Do let me know if I need to adjust anything, my dear.”

• If you’re ever overstimulated, Viktor offers quiet comfort, sitting beside you and holding your hand without pressuring you to talk.

• He’s endlessly patient and loves learning about your passions. “Your knowledge is extraordinary. I could listen to you talk about this all day.”

• Viktor admires your honesty and straightforwardness. He finds it refreshing and often leans on your clarity to help him navigate complex situations.

Caitlyn

• Caitlyn is incredibly supportive and attentive to your needs. She’ll go out of her way to create an environment where you feel safe and understood.

• She’s quick to pick up on your sensory preferences, always offering solutions like quiet spaces or comfortable textures. “Would this be better for you, love?”

• Caitlyn is your biggest advocate, especially in social settings. If anyone is unkind or dismissive, she’ll firmly but politely set them straight.

• She loves your honesty and values your straightforward nature. It’s one of the reasons she feels so grounded with you.

• Caitlyn is also endlessly patient, offering you comfort and understanding without ever making you feel rushed or judged.

[kngrose]

do you not write for ambessa 👉🏻👈🏻? cuz your sevika headcanons are *chef’s kiss*

ambessa general headcanons 𝜗𝜚

WARNINGS: 18+, sexual content, implied voyeurism, body worship, oral, slapping, spanking, dacryphilia, implied age gap, slave/master if you squint, wlw!

prayers have been answered ^^

SFW

Come, come. Let's talk about it.

I don't think Ambessa strikes anyone as a lovely kind of person. Yes, she is incredibly charismatic, and might even be the love-bombing type, but Ambessa seems to clearly reserve "love" for those closest to her. Well, her version of it anyway.

She won't just walk around with her heart on her shoulder, she's a warrior for hell's sake. And we're all familiar with her opinions on becoming weak at the hands of love.

If you've managed to genuinely catch Ambessa's interest-- not just for her personal gain or a quick fuck-- then you've got a headache coming your way. Like, a migraine.

I want to really emphasize the love bombing because regardless of whether Ambessa is aware of it or not, the relationship will feel this way for a long time. There's a pattern. She's affectionate one day; showering you with praises and soft kisses, sunrise to sunset. You'll have to want for nothing. Gifts and trips, all treated to you by hers truly. Wining and dining, a good fuck. And though all of this is displayed in private, you'll be enamored. Which is exactly what she wants you to be.

And then, she'll be cold and standoffish. Uncaring of your presence or too busy to be bothered. When Ambessa handles business, there's no such thing as making time for you. You'll just have to pacify yourself until she's ready to be bothered with you again.

It'll take you a while to realize, but when you do you can't miss it; she's got an avoidant attachment. She wants to love you and to be loved, but the moment she receives it she's pulling away. She's looking for flaws in you, anything that'll convince herself that you're bad for her, to leave you where she found you.

Constantly creating exit strategies, thinking of petty little arguments to start for no reason, or an insecurity of yours to pick at. She was trained to fight, it's her strong suit in any sense. It's always easier for her to disconnect and dismiss her feelings than to just sit and talk it out. And you'll want nothing to do with her, which is also what she wants.

She just be losing the plot, I fear.

Unfortunately, cycles like this take time to break. Fortunately, she's not going to let you leave! So you have all the time in the world! <3

When you bring this to her knowledge, you'll really have to bring it. Sit her down and let her know she's not moving until she's heard every word that leaves your mouth, wagging a painted finger in her face. And she'll humor you because you've managed to make an impression with her.

She will sit, patiently and leisurely, man spread and all, watching you fuss her out throwing your hands every which way and yelling. And she will have the softest, fondest smile on her face. She'll know you love her at this moment.

She will let you say your piece without interruptions. In fact, she's so quiet that you have to question if she's even listening a few times. And when you catch sight of that little smile you just pause, dumbfounded. And she'll just humor your expression, urging you to continue with a curt wave of her hand.

After this occasion, Ambessa will be relentless. In her mind, anyone willing to fuss her out the way that you have must truly love her. So now, she knows no limits. In the past, Ambessa would have you stay put with some guards while she handled her day-to-day tasks. But now? You tag along with her everywhere.

In meetings, Ambessa has you perched on her lap. Touching you mindlessly as she discusses possible strategies and looks over speeches. Rubbing your thighs, your neck, your arms. You'll find it awkward at first--such a public display of affection-- but you'll have no choice but to get used to it.

She's hand-feeding you everything. Holding your cups to your lips, licking frosting off your mouth. It's a starch contrast to the dynamic your relationship used to have. But, you suppose you shouldn't be surprised at her shamelessness, she's always been a bit... eccentric.

And now, you don't even have to ask her to share her feelings, in fact, you have to tell her that some things are a little TMI because she wants to share everything with you. Everything. EVERYTHING.

Secrets don't exist, she's an open book. Whatever's on her mind, you're going to hear about it. Which in most cases, you can appreciate. She'll open up about her past and all of the things that have led her up to this point. She'll speak of her daughter, Mel, expressing a regret that she's never opened up to her about. And she'll talk about the effects you have on her personally.

These moments are heartwarming, cause it solidifies your bond.

Undoubtably, Ambessa is a very possessive woman. She's very adamant about expressing to everyone that you belong to her. Not necessarily in a verbal sense, but people will know. They'll know when they see the lingering touches she leaves, the elongated glances, the kisses. Again she's very shameless, so don't let these things take you by surprise.

She's also very protective. She does like to have you tag along with her everywhere, but every now and then she'll leave you with Rictus while she goes to handle more trying situations. You know, the ones where she may potentially commit a war crime or two.

She'd much rather you be locked away than have to protect you on the battlefield. Though she's positive you know of her capabilities, she wouldn't like to have you see her in that light regardless. She'll go to great, violent, bloody lengths to keep you safe.

Besides her shameless physical touch, Ambessa likes to show her love with flashy gifts and large bouquets of flowers. She likes to collect things from all the places she's been to gift to you; know that every time she's out, she thinks of what you might like to have.

She also likes to share knowledge. She finds that to be one of the biggest displays of love; sharing one's knowledge of the world and life. Things you can can learn from. She will really appreciate and admire the fact that you look up to her as a mentor, and especially loves it when you ask for her opinion or perspective. It shows that you rely on her.

And she likes to be relied on!

She has a tendency to just walk around naked, and not for any particular reason other than the fact that it’s, “Comfortable, sweet thing.” It doesn’t matter what time of the day it is, if she has leisure time to waste, she’ll be naked. And she likes to be watched; “I worked hard for this body, honey..” She’ll say, flexing her arms at you.

She takes great pride in her form and in her strength. She likes to lift you up randomly just to showcase it. She’ll always pick you up when she hugs you, gripping your thighs loosely or not at all. You could honestly just hang onto her, dropping all of your weight. It wouldn’t make a difference.

She never fails to fluster you at any given chance. Every time you’re having a conversation she’s holding the strongest eye contact, chuckling to herself when you avoid her gaze. She'll randomly grip your chin, or caress your face. Sometimes twirling the hair by your ears. She likes to see you get all flustered because of her. It genuinely makes her day. That's why she does it so much.

She's old! Lol, you'll have to keep her updated with the new slang and terms of endearment. If you're someone who incorporates a lot of slang into your vocabulary, you'll often receive sideways glances of confusion before she stares at you and mutters, "...What?"

NSFW

I’m going to say it again; she’s shameless.

She has no qualms. Like, at all.

She loves to put on a show. She loves to be ogled at, it strokes her— already large enough— ego. More often than not, she’ll shove you down onto the bed, and with a calculated slowness, she’ll begin to undress, maintaining eye contact with you throughout. Her eyes always smoldering with a mix of passion and a touch of dominance.

And she’ll study you closely for your reaction, loving the look of pure awe on your face as she stands nude before you. Her voice, a low and husky murmur, would echo through the room, "See something you like, my dear?" and she’ll hum in approval at the soft, “Yes, Ma’am” she receives in return.

Ambessa appreciates a well mannered slut.

Most times, Ambessa will request that you massage her, all over. She loves it; It fulfills her desire to be worshipped. She loves to watch you take your time and rub every part of her, smirking down at you as you get lower and lower.

Ambessa will lean back slightly, her expression transitioning into a devilish smirk. Her free hand slowly tracing a path along the contours of your body. She watches you like a hawk, a smirk ever present on her lips.

When you start to kiss down her body a contented sigh will escape her lips. She’ll run her fingers through your hair, gently but firmly guiding your movements. Her head will tilt back, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. Each touch, each kiss, draws out a low and guttural sound from her throat, her desire evident in the way her body responds to your ministrations.

And the hand in your hair will tighten as she shoves your face in between her legs, a knowing glint in her eyes, “You know what to do.” And her body tenses as you start to eat her pussy, the hand in your hair tightening almost painfully as she groans.

She requires eye contact; she wants you to watch her come undone on your mouth. It’s like a reward, no? Watching the effect you have on her. She wouldn’t want you to miss the way she leans her head back, her hips rutting against your tongue at a steady pace, glancing down at you as she murmurs, “Good girl.”

And she won’t miss the hand that you trail down to your pussy, toying with yourself impatiently. A leisurely chuckle will fall from her lips, “Patience, Darling.” She’ll always say, pulling your hair to angle your head just right so she can fuck your face better. “Patience.”

And soon her breathing will turn shallow, Ambessa's grip on your hair impossibly intensifying, her fingers tangling in your locks as she guides your movements. Her control momentarily slips as she succumbs to the pleasure you're giving her.

And when she cums? She’ll pull your head back playing idly with the mess on your face, “Tsk… now you’re all dirty,” She’ll mutter, before leaning down and licking it off your chin. She’ll meet your lips in a sloppy mess of a kiss, groaning softly at the taste. And when she pulls back she’ll admire the look on your face, taking a mental photo of it. “Pretty…”

I think Ambessa would have a thing for teasing you. She likes to put you in uncomfortable positions. Make you put yourself on display in risky places. Loves touching you under tables. It just warms her core to see you so flustered, really riles her up. Especially so if you start crying, she’ll just squeeze your cheeks in her hand and snicker at you, “Ohhhh, you poor thing,” She’ll chuckle, and peck your puckered lips.

I already mentioned that Ambessa loves it when you’re well-mannered, it’ll quite literally get you anything your heart desires. You ask her nicely to make up cum? She’ll do it in a heartbeat. “With my mouth, or with my hands?” She’ll raise a brow, “Or with something else?” You use your manners with Ambessa like a good girl and she’ll be at your beck and call.

Laying you on your stomach softly to pull your ass in the air and eating your pussy until you squirt all over her mouth, and she won’t let a drop go to waste. She’ll trail her thick tongue from your clit all the way to your ass and back, over and over and over, circling the hole playfully before spitting onto it, the spit trailing back down. It’s truly a beautiful sight, she thinks.

Do you want her to fuck you with her fingers? They’re thick. You’ll hardly need two of them to satiate that churning in your core. Perhaps you want a massage of your own? Want her to suck on your pretty feet? Maybe you want her to talk you through your orgasm and praise you softly in your ear while you cum on her fingers? Everything all at once? No request is too far for Ambessa. She likes to worship her pretty thing; and loves to appreciate your body. Especially when it’s well deserved.

But when you’re ill mannered? Ambessa will show you exactly how she became a warlord.

Don’t expect any pleasure from this outcome. It’ll be hard. It’ll be brutal. And you’ll wish you’d never mouthed off at her the way you did. “What did we learn?” She’ll growl, above you, slapping your ass with a powerful force, “Quickly.” She’ll order.

And she’ll hum as you blubber loudly about being respectful, but her abuse will not stop. She will continue to keep you over her knee, slapping at your ass and thighs relentlessly. And when she’s done with that? She’ll have you on your knees, facing up at her with your hands folded politely over your lap. And you’d better pay extra attention to your posture or she’ll punish you for that too.

You’re never prepared for the swat to your cheek. “What are we not doing in the future?” She won’t falter at the cry that leaves your mouth, her gaze stone-cold and unwavering. She’ll swat your cheek again, slap, “I said, quickly.” And again, she won’t be moved by your blubbering until she’s satisfied-- until she believes you’ve learned a lesson.

And she’ll always be sure to pacify you until you’ve calmed down, offering you water and comfort, but still being stern enough that you remember your place the next time around. She’ll be sure to build you up just as she’s broken you down, affirming you gently. And you’ll fall back into her, blubbering your apologies.

She’ll conceal a smirk.

She loves to see you cry.

please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist to be notified everytime i post, xx

taglist: @opropheticsoul

[writeonwhiskey]

how about a seungmin drabble? something dirty and sweet? plz 💕

This is an ask that I'm including with a comment that requested a Seungmin one-shot. The more specific request was for a "best friend's brother" type story. I hope you and @miniversed enjoy it!

a/n: a semi-sweet drabble. i'm working on keeping things short because I really started writing the entire backstory for these two lol but i've narrowed it down to this one scene! this has not been edited, take it easy on me.

warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f receiving) - 18+ ONLY

word count: 2,362

You’re seated on the vanity counter with Seungmin between your legs. You don’t know how you got here, but a voice in the back of your head is screaming that you shouldn’t have accepted the invitation to come see him perform—especially without your best friend.

You part your lips as his tongue invades your mouth, satiating the desire that’s been growing in you for fourteen years. You’ve fantasized about this moment countless times and now that it’s finally happening, you want nothing more than to give in to the moment.

But you know this isn’t right. You shouldn’t be doing this.

You shouldn’t have come to this room with him.

You tangle your hands in his short, dark hair, leaning back as he starts kissing down your neck.

This is your best friend’s brother for crying out loud. What would she think? What would she say?

“Wait, wait, Seungmin,” you tug on the strands of his hair to pull him away from you. You should probably shut your eyes while you say this. You can’t look at his face—his perfect fucking face. You’ve been drooling over his face even more than usual since he cut his bangs and added that slit in his eyebrow. You turn your head away from him, shaking it, “We can’t.”

“Why not?” He softly pushes your hands away from his hair and resumes kissing your neck.

“No—wait, wait,” you say again. “What about your sister?”

“What about her?” He pulls back from you, his face scrunched up. “I don’t want to think about her right now.”

“Well, I can’t not think about her—she’s my best friend. I don’t know if she would forgive me for this.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” he shrugs.

“Seungmin,” you plead softly. “You have no idea how badly I want this. How long I’ve wanted this.”

“How long?” he asks, resting his hands on your thighs and spreading your legs apart. He doesn’t wait for your response before asking a follow up question. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted it?”

Your eyes open wide. You watch as his finger inches higherup your thighs, slipping beneath your skirt. You shake your head again.

“You remember that summer vacation you took with us to Jeju?” he asks softly.

Of course, you remember that trip. You were sixteen. He was seventeen. You were nervous to go out on the beach in your bathing suit—your first time wearing one since your body had fully developed. You were afraid what people might think or say, but Seungmin smiled when he saw you and all your worries were flushed down the drain.

“I’d never seen you like that before,” he says. “You want to know what I did that night?”

Your eyes are locked on his arms on your thighs, his hands have now fully disappeared beneath your skirt. You feel his fingers rubbing along the edges of your underwear.

“I stroked my cock while thinking of you, y/n,” he admits.

“Seungmin,” you whisper. You place your hands on his chest to keep his mouth from coming back to yours.

He uses one finger to pull your underwear towards him.

“Do you want me to stop?”

You look around the empty dressing room, eyes keying in on the door to make sure it’s locked. You don’t want any of the other members or staff to come in and see you like this. This secret can’t get out. It could ruin everything.

“No, I don’t,” you tell him. “But that doesn’t mean we should keep going.”

He slips his other hand between the opening he created in your underwear, sliding a finger up and down your slit causing you to gasp, then moan. Your hands slide up to the back of his neck, clasping together.

He takes the opportunity to lean forward again and reclaim your mouth. You part your lips, allowing his tongue to enter. He tastes of adrenaline and betrayal. He keeps leaning forward, forcing you back against the mirror as he kisses you, his finger still sliding along your slit.

“We could stop,” he says, breaking the kiss momentarily. “If we keep going, though, I promise you I’ll never say a word.”

You weigh your options as his finger keeps teasing your pussy. You pull him to you to kiss him again—a bad decision. You’re ready to throw caution to the wind so long as he’s touching you like this.

This is the boy you’ve had a crush on since he walked you home in second grade and it hasn’t faded. As much as you willed it to. This is the boy who came to your rescue in the middle of the night when you started your period and his sister was asleep—he found pads for you and provided a change of clothes since you’d ruined your own.

This is the boy you cooked countless meals for when you would stay the night, and he returned from practice at 12:00am. When everyone else was asleep and he wanted a hot, fresh meal, you were there to serve him. This is the boy whose compliments on your cooking encouraged you to pursue culinary school. This is the boy who brought his entire group to the restaurant you work at and ensured them it would be the best meal of their life.

This is the boy you can’t get enough of. You have to have him. Even if it’s just once. Even if it has to be a secret. Even if it can never happen again.

You slide your hands down and push back on his chest once more. You hold your fist out in front of him, pinky raised. This is so wrong.

“Promise?” you ask.

He hooks his pinky through yours with a crooked grin, “Promise.”

He lowers your intertwined pinkies until your hand is at the waistband of his pants and as you fumble with the button, his lips crash against yours.

So many thoughts are racing through your head—is this really okay? Will his sister ever find out? Will you be able to live with this secret?

But then, he’s pulling your underwear down and, quite frankly, you couldn’t give two shits. That’s for the you of tomorrow to worry about. Tonight you get to have him. Fucking finally.

You successfully unbutton and unzip his pants, and he steps back to pull your underwear completely off. You relax against the cold mirror, watching as he removes the sweatshirt he’s wearing and when his bare torso comes into view, you know you’ve made the right decision for yourself.

You have to experience this. Even if it’s just once. You have to get him out of your system and lay this crush to rest.

He pushes his pants and boxers down as he steps back towards you, freeing his cock. You subconsciously lick your lips at the sight, and he chuckles in response. You wiggle around on the desk, lifting your skirt up higher and scooting to the edge.

He grabs you by the waist with one hand, and spits in the other before sliding it against your pussy. He grips the base of his cock and lines himself up at your opening.

You lock your hands together behind his neck, biting your lip and holding your breath for what’s to come. His lips are back on yours as he slowly eases his cock inside. You moan into his mouth as he buries himself in you, partially in shock that this is really happening and not another dream.

He places his other hand on your waist and moves you closer to the edge of the vanity counter as he starts slowly thrusting in and out of you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, reveling in the feeling. You rock your hips back against his. He groans and breaks the kiss, pulling back to watch his cock at work.

“You’re so wet for me, y/n,” he says.

You moan and nod.

“How long?” he asks.

You’re so focused on fucking him back it takes you a moment to realize he’s even asked you a question.

“Too long,” you breathe.

“And is it as good as you imagined?” A coy smile is on his lips.

“Better,” you reply without hesitation.

He suddenly withdraws from you, but before you can panic that you’ve said the wrong thing, he drops to his knees. He hooks his arms under thighs, hands reaching over them to spread your pussy apart. He presses a long, hard lick up your slit and you just about collapse.

Your brain cannot comprehend. Seungmin is on his knees. Licking your pussy.

“Mmmm,” he moans between licks, “we taste good together.”

You fall back against the mirror with a heavy, satisfied sigh.

Why would he say that? How can you live knowing his lips have uttered such a phrase. How can you look him in the eyes the next time you’re with him and his family, and your best friend, knowing he’s said that?

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

And then, his fingers are inside you while he sucks your clit into his mouth. And it doesn’t fucking matter. You’ll figure it out.

“Seungmin,” you pant.

He doesn’t stop his actions, but he looks up at you with those deep, brown eyes and your heart all but explodes at the sight. His face, buried between your thighs, eyes locked on you and only you as he fucks you with his fingers; his mouth working wonders on your clit.

“Can you—please,” you try to get a sentence out but your head falls back against the mirror with a thud, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your hips thrust against his fingers and mouth of their own accord and your arch your back.

“Fuck, yes,” he pauses sucking your clit to say, “Give it to me, y/n.”

And how could you not?

You grit your teeth to keep from alerting the entire backstage crew of your activities. You place your feet on the counter, gripping your hands in his hair and pushing your hips against his face as you come.

His fingers and mouth don’t stop until you’ve finished trembling. You collapse against the counter with a sigh as he stands, his mouth smiling and glistening with your juices. Holy fuck, you can’t believe your eyes.

Even in your weakened state, you still want to taste him. You use all your remaining energy to sit up and reach for his cock.

“Next time,” he says pushing your hand aside as he pulls you down from the counter.

You stare back at him, blinking. Dumbfounded.

You never intended for this to happen in the first place. Now he’s insinuating there will be a next time? You don’t know if you can handle it. But you do know that it shouldn’t happen.

He kisses you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. And he’s right—you do taste good together. It’s a shame.  

He turns you around, forcing you down with a hand on your back until your torso is pressed against the counter. He pushes your skirt up higher, exposing your ass. He palms one cheek as he lines himself up at your entrance again. You glance at him over your shoulder, watching as he eases himself into you and let out a sigh when he’s all the way in.

It truly feels better than you could have ever imagined. Is it because this feels taboo? Is it because having his cock inside you feels like everything you could ever want or need?

You wiggle your ass back against him and turn your head to face the mirror. You watch his reflection as he slowly withdraws, then slams himself back into you. You both moan as he repeats the process, gripping your hips to pull you to him with even more force.

You lay your palms flat against the counter, bending your knees slightly to bounce back against him.

“Y/n,” he groans, his eyes glued to where your bodies are connected, “I never thought—oh, fuck!”

You fuck him back as he loses his train of thought and smacks your ass. He bares his teeth, breathing heavily as he rams into you.

This is so wrong, and you both know it. There may be consequences to pay, but it will be worth it.

“I’m gonna come,” he warns you.

You lock eyes with him through the mirror and give a subtle nod. His fingers dig into your waist, and he pulls you back against him with all the strength in him as he comes.

His thrusts slow down as he spills into you. You rest your head against the counter to hide your smile, satisfied with each groan that falls from his lips.

When he’s done, he fully withdraws his cock and takes a step back to admire his handiwork.

“Don’t move,” he says, pulling his pants back up. He then digs inside his back pocket and retrieves his phone.

“Seungmin,” you protest and start to stand.

He lowers you back against the counter and presses his jeaned thighs against your bare ass. He angles his phone above you and snaps a picture.

“I need something to get me through this tour,” he tells you.

You’re not sure what to make of that, but it feels like a compliment.

He puts his phone back into his pocket and palms your ass again, making you moan. He steps away and picks up your underwear from the ground, tucking them into his front pocket. He reaches over you for the tissue on the counter and finally wipes you clean.

“You should come out with us tonight to celebrate the start of the tour,” he says, tossing the tissue into the trash.

“I should probably go home and shower,” you say, standing up and turning to face him.

“Not yet,” he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you to him. “I want you to walk around with us on you for a while.”

You look up at him and take a deep breath. What have you gotten yourself in to?

a/n: how was that? did my best to keep it short and to the point! hehe this was fun! once again, asks are open for one-shots!

[princessbrunette]

I don't know if you had already answered this on your blog, but I was wondering would any of the girls be friends? Like I'm talking kitty, puppy, deer, lamb, and bunny. In my head I always pictured Kitty and Puppy being best friends and Bunny being more of an outsider because she's with Rafe.

this is interesting !! let me dissect all of ‘em <3

bunny:

you’re right — no one really wants to be friends with the poor girl because she’s rafe’s ride or die, and well — who trusts rafe? on first glance, they all would assume she’s just as wicked and evil as her boyfriend, but it would only take one interaction with her to know she’s not at all. i think with all the girls, their view on bunny shifts from being suspicious, to being pitying very quickly. whilst i don’t think they’d even get close enough to be friends, the general consensus of her would be “shes so sweet, idk what she sees in rafe.” or “we need to get her out of there!”

if she’s gonna make an unlikely companionship with anyone, it would be a universe where lamb!reader is dating one of the pogues. her and lamb come from similar kooky upbringings, and their complete opposite ways of presenting themselves would make for an interesting and hilarious dynamic. bunny teaches lamb about all the girl things she’d been deprived of, and lamb applies biblical meaning to bunny’s life lessons. she also thinks rafe is the devil but that’s a story for another day.

kitty:

whilst kitty and puppy would be a funny dynamic — and it works, as traditionally pup is with john b and kitty is with jj, my favourite friendship pairing might have to be kitty and deer. kitty feels less responsible for deer like she might with puppy, and as they both have super niche interests and ways of being, they’d have a lot to talk about.

my favourite thing about their dynamic would be the way they handle confronting situations. they’re both big people watchers, often silently floating around, wide eyed and unnervingly observant — however when the attention is drawn to them in a negative light, deer is quick to flee — upset and terrified of confrontation, whereas kitty will stay, tense up and run her mouth protectively of herself and her friend. she may be quiet but she can be lethal when provoked.

puppy:

puppy would get along with anyone, as she’s super friendly and sociable. in the most versatile way, she adapts to the needs of her friend — meaning if she’s hanging out with deer, she knows she’ll be doing a lot of the yapping whilst deer listens and observes before giving advice or an opinion. with kitty, it’s a yap off, the two of them always having alot to say. i can’t really see pup and mouse crossing paths, and i don’t think lamb would particularly take to her.

i am aware i said bunny wouldn’t be around many other readers, but other than lamb, if anyone will break through it’s pup. she and bun have the same energetic, sexually charged ditsy ways, so i think around eachother they’d be able to unapologetically be themselves and treat the world as their playground. their friendship would be less about sitting and talking and more about running around getting into chaos and spending money on rafes card. in another world they’re f4f gfs.

mouse:

i’ve spoken of this many times, but an underrated yet unstoppable duo is mouse and kitty. they enable eachother in the worst ways, mouse teaching kitty how to not get caught when shop lifting, kitty teaching mouse how to fuck, smoke cigs and mouth off (shes too shy to do the last, and lets kitty fight many of her battles)

they spend alot of time together, perhaps to the point of being completely codependent, never seen without the other. kitty was even there the first time mouse had sex, holding her hand. they bicker, but it’s because they care about eachother.

[aboutcustardcreams]

Time Ticking, Patience Thinning

Here’s another chapter that I hope you enjoy 🫶🏼 please lemme know if you do~ would make my day!

previous chapter

“What’s your name again-? I didn’t quite catch it the first time.” 

When the boy opened his mouth to answer Agatha’s question, your gaze instinctively shifted to him. What happened next took you by surprise. As he began to speak, a shimmering sigil materialized above his lips, silencing his voice entirely. Your brows furrowed in confusion as your gaze slowly shifted to Agatha. 

“Interesting,” that’s all she said. 

"What do you mean?” 

“Nothing to shout about,” she waved it off, giving you the hint of keeping that detail Teen a secret for now. “Anyway, I can’t promise I’ll remember your name.” 

Her words caught you off guard, and it took everything in you not to burst into a cackle. Even so, a tiny puff of air escaped your nose, almost sounding like a snort. Agatha turned to you then, her composure always impeccable, infuriatingly so. 

“We better get going now,” she brushed past you towards the front door, or rather, the spot where it used to be.

You smacked your lips at her nonchalance. If you weren’t in such a rush, you’d invade her personal space right there and now, capture her lips with yours to wipe off that knowing grin from her face. 

Instead you only said, “I drive.”

She didn’t object to that. In fact, she preferred it when you were the one behind the wheel. It gave her the liberty to let her hands wander over your skin. 

As you slid into your car, Teen's eyes sparkled with the hopeful anticipation of claiming the shotgun seat, but Agatha cut off his enthusiasm rather quickly. 

“Be a good pet and sit in the back, will you?” 

The boy shot you a sideway glance and you muttered a soft ‘sorry’ in his direction. Resigned, he slid into the backseat, clicked his seatbelt into place,and slouched in quiet defeat, arms crossed over his chest, reminding you of his young age. 

“Maybe on our way back you two can switch-”

Agatha didn’t even let you finish, “Or maybe not,” she muttered sarcastically. 

You sighed and started the car, with no clear destination in mind just yet, “very mature.”

She didn’t respond to that and simply hummed.

“So, where are we going?” Teen asked after a bunch of minutes. 

You looked at him from the rearview mirror, “for starters we do need a Coven to walk the Road.” 

He looked like a child on Christmas day, “you’re taking me to your Coven?” 

With your eyes back on the road, you hummed, “Uhm, not exactly.”

“We never had one,” Agatha clarified, “I mean, not for long anyway.” You glanced at her briefly, wondering what she might say to the boy next. For a fleeting moment, you thought she might blurt out the entire truth right then and there. But it wouldn’t be like her, so you brushed the thought aside almost as quickly as it came to you. 

“They annoyed me,” she said with a dramatic tut, “so one day I woke up, feeling inspired, and turned them into dust.”

You nearly veered into the opposite lane when she said that, your knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t entirely a lie either. Yes, she had killed her Coven, of that there was no dispute. But what she left unsaid were the reasons that forced her hand, reasons that probably nobody knew, that’s why people were so quick to come up with the ‘witch killer’ nickname. 

Teen looked terrified and uncertain what was to say next. And Agatha, being Agatha, looked quite pleased with it. 

"That’s not exactly how it went,” you mumbled, giving away the hint that there was more to say, without actually saying it. You stole a glance at Agatha, her smile teasing, slightly amused by the familiarity of the situation. There you were, once more, doing your best to clean up her reputation. She told you many times you didn’t have to do it, but you couldn’t help it. “What I can say is this: they’ve blown the whole ‘witch killer’ thing way out of proportion. Agatha isn’t a bad person.” 

Sure, you couldn’t deny the fact that Agatha killed witches, more than a few. But survival had a way of sharpening its edges, forcing impossible choices. She killed to save herself when no one else would. She killed to save Nicky. And later on… she killed to find a way to save you. It’s long overdue that people knew the truth, yet you knew it wasn’t your place, at least not only yours, to spill it. 

When Rio sent the Furies after you, they took possession of your mind, twisting reality until it was unrecognizable to you. Their voices inside your heart hurt in the most inexplicable way, but you resisted, you vowed to. You never fully understood how your condition affected Agatha and Nicky, because whenever you had a fleeting moment of clarity, they chose to savor the time together rather than tell you how much it hurt them to see you like that. During that time, Agatha’s killings increased but you wouldn’t know. She didn’t need to kill witches to heal Nicky, though. The moment you used your magic to bring him back to life, the curse had been lifted and with it, Nicky’s illness. But your magic had come with an unexpected price to pay. Rio had warned you, but you refused to listen. 

Noticing the way your eyes dimmed, Agatha slid her hand above your knee. She knew you too well to figure out exactly where your thoughts had gone. You were blaming yourself again. And she couldn’t let you do that. 

“Don’t listen to her, Teen. She has the tendency of picturing me softer than I really am,” despite her serious tone, the way her hand squeezed your knee, told you a whole different story. All she wanted was for you to let go of your sense of guilt. “When it comes to survival, you’ll do whatever it takes— anything. I hope it never comes that far for you.” 

Teen considered those words in silence. Your version compared to Agatha’s and it all just clicked. You were protecting her and she was protecting you. In that moment, he decided the rumors about the two of you didn’t matter, whether they were true or not. From now on, he would form his own picture of you both by living in the present and watching you do your thing. 

“I think it’s sweet that you found each other and stuck around for all these years. Centuries, I presume. In a way you form a Coven of two–” 

Your heart warmed up at Teen’s words. It was kind of cute to think of it that way. Your lips spread in a smile and so did Agatha’s, but more because she was amused by the whole thing he just said. Sure, she agreed with him- the fact that there was a bond between you two was true. An understatement, to be frank. You went through so many things together that the sole thought of parting ways for whatever reason felt now like a complete idiocy. You belonged to her like she belonged to you. 

“Teen, I’m sorry to cut your enthusiasm, but she and I are in a relationship. That hardly makes us a Coven.” 

“It makes us a family, though,” you pointed out. 

You caught something flickering in Agatha’s eyes, a shimmer of emotion, maybe even vulnerability. Had it been just the two of you, she might have let it linger, but with the boy in the car, she felt uneasy. So she averted her eyes, focusing on the passing landscape to her right. 

Noticing her hand slip away from your thigh, you pouted. Stubbornly, you reached out and placed it back where it belonged and when she turned, your lips curled up once again in a mischievous grin. Agatha snorted. That sass of yours— 

“There’s no time to be namby-pamby, my love. I need you to be focused.”

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled, “Fine. Wouldn’t want you to lose your only chance at surviving against the Salem Seven.”

Agatha's expression twisted into an exaggerated version of your own, mimicking your tone as she repeated the words you just said. The effect was immediate and both you and Teen burst into laughter, incredulous on your part. 

“I don’t sound like that!” 

“You do,” she insisted, lips twitching in a smirk. 

“I think she did a pretty good ‘you’”, Teen added, only fueling your mocking disbelief and Agatha’s enjoyment. 

“Whatever, I’m done with you two.” 

Your eyes squinted towards a peculiar building standing in the middle of nowhere to your left. You decided to try your luck there, took a rapid turn and parked right in front of the building, your instinct telling you there was a potential witch in there. The faded sign hanging above the door caught your eye, and you read it aloud: Madame Calderou’s Psychic Readings. 

Agatha clasped her hands together, before rubbing them as if she was plotting something mischievous, “Right. Seems like we are here.”

Teen’s interest piqued once again, “You think there’s a real witch in there?”

Before you could respond, Agatha preceded you, “we shall see if she knows the witchy handshake first.”

“Oh my God– there’s a witchy handshake?”

You let out an exasperated sigh while Agatha giggled to herself. It was so easy to play with that boy. “Teen, she is pulling your leg. There’s no such thing as a witchy handshake. Honestly that would be so demeaning.”

“Such as flying brooms or pointy hats,” she agreed with you. 

“I like flying brooms,” you retorted, as you three walked up towards the building. 

Agatha draped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a squishy, however affectionate embrace, “Course you do,” she purred, “next you’ll be telling me you want to adopt a black cat as familiar.” 

“I already have a familiar, thank you very much,” you pointed out, “a nice turtle that your bunny keeps bullying shamelessly.”

Agatha gasped dramatically, but you knew it was just an act, “he doesn’t! Take it back–” 

“He does,” you chuckled. “And no, I won’t.” 

“Uhm, we are drifting off here,” Teen interjected, with an awkward smile. He pointed at the building, making both you and Agatha shift your attention back to the reason why you were there. Gather a Coven of Witches. 

“Right,” she took a mental note to return to the subject another time. 

You nodded, stepping forward to open the door. Holding it wide, you gestured for Teen to go in first. He slipped inside without a word, rather excitedly actually, and as Agatha approached, she brushed past you, but not before her fingers slid into yours, her hand fitting perfectly in your grasp. 

A small, teasing grin tugged at your lips. “I thought we didn’t have time for sappy moments.” 

“Don’t be such a brat,” she whispered into your ear, in a cheeky tone, you didn’t miss. Couldn’t, if you tried. 

*

“You’ve been under the influence of another, haven't you? Someone you hurt,” the clairvoyant started, her voice solemn as she took in Agatha’s blue eyes. The smirk of confidence that had tugged at Agatha’s lips faded as soon as she realized that Lilia Calderou wasn’t a fraud and knew who she was. You gave Agatha’s hand a tentative squeeze, a way to let her know you were there– that everything was okay. Her fingers tightened around yours in response. 

“And she paid the price, too. They took your agency, but not hers,” she continued, her eyes landed on yours as you frowned uncomfortably. You never blamed Agatha for anything and you certainly wouldn’t start now just because a clairvoyant said so. “I feel it, your magic. It’s restless, volatile and quite dangerous. It should not exist.” 

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms over your chest, “Here we go again,” you muttered, voice laced with dry sarcasm. Agatha snorted out a low chuckle in response to Lilia’s words, “You know nothing about her talent, so I’d suggest you to be quiet about it.” She never cared about what other witches thought about her, but whenever it came to you, she would completely lose her mind, if someone dared to judge who you were, basing their opinion on a prejudice as old as the world. 

“So you’re a witch?” Teen’s question came in a hopeful tone.

“Divination witch is my guess,” you replied before Lilia could. 

A mischievous grin tugged at Lilia’s lips. “If you intend to overstay your visit, I’ll have to charge you again.” 

“Oh, I think you can grant us another ten minutes of your time,” Agatha groaned, “It’s not that there’s a line in here or something.”

In response, you saw Teen bow his head to wipe the grin off his face. You, on the other hand, made no effort to hide yours. 

Annoyance was evident in her eyes, as she retorted, “whatever you want from me, I’m not interested,” Lilia stood up and without another word, she stood and disappeared behind the curtain at the back of her shop. 

You and Agatha shared a knowing glance. 

Teen appeared more disappointed than concerned, “Now what?” 

“Now we persuade her.” 

To preserve Agatha’s life, it was essential to gather some magic and you would have, no matter what. So you stood, eyes flashing with a newfound calm mingled with determination. Agatha noticed and smiled. She loved you for so many things and that behavior of yours, was just one of those characteristics that reminded her of why she chose to stick by your side so many years ago. 

She gave you a nod of her head and followed you, as you took the lead. On the other side, you found yourself in what could loosely be called an apartment. A single room stretched before you. To the left stood a corner kitchen, its countertops cluttered with mismatched utensils, jars of herbs, the faint glimmer of copper pots, and a kettle she just turned on, probably to make herself some soothing tea. 

“Join us,” Agatha insisted, as you and Teen kept looking around. “Honestly the way you live is kind of disappointing. You deserve more and better than whatever this place is…” Her gaze drifted to the far end of the room, where a mattress leaned against the wall, probably to save up space. 

You wondered if there was a toilet hidden behind it. How low could a witch go?

The clairvoyant’s gaze flickered with hesitation, her lips pressed into a thin line as Agatha’s words sinked in. The shrill whistle of the kettle cut through the silence, drawing her attention and causing both you and Agatha to roll your eyes, when she spun around. 

“Lilia–”, you couldn’t do this all day.  

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” when she turned to face you, her eyes locked onto yours, sharp and intense. You could tell she was conflicted, exasperated even. “I won’t make the same mistake and fall into Agatha’s manipulative ways. They say you endured the Furies’ wrath because you did and yet here you are, still standing by her side. I don’t understand that.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. 

She had no idea what she was talking about– Agatha had nothing to do with the Furies. For some odd, infuriating reason, nobody knew a thing about Rio Vidal, instead: the true cause of everything. Instead, according to the stories, it had always been you and Agatha all along, so whatever bad thing came your way, Agatha bore the brunt of the blame. You were sick of that. 

Teen was in shock too, he didn’t speak, but a part of him ached to defend both you and Agatha. He’d read about the Furies, knew the torment you endured for years, but not for a second had he ever believed Agatha was responsible for it. It just didn’t sit right with him. It couldn’t be.  Not when Agatha looked at you the way she did, as if you held all the stars in the sky just for her. As if you were everything she had left.

Watching you from her peripheral vision, Agatha recognized clear signs of your struggle. Your jaw clenched tightly, your hands curled into fists at your sides, and your lips pressed into a thin line, “If you really think Agatha is somewhat responsible for what happened to me, which by the way is none of your business, maybe you lost your talent–”, your words hung in the air, adding to the already tense atmosphere lingering in the room. 

Lilia looked somewhat self-conscious about what she said and how they affected you, yet she didn’t apologize. However, she held herself back from responding to your bitter remark about her.

Agatha’s lips stretched into a sad, tight smile the moment her fingers brushed against your forearm, and you failed to meet her eyes, “hey– don’t go there again. It’s not worth it,” she cooed, voice firm, yet veiled with the usual fondness she only reserved to you. You clenched your eyes shut for a moment, your magic sparkling at the tips of your fingers. Lilia was right about one thing: your talent could be dangerous especially when wielded by a witch emotionally distressed or simply pissed off, like you. 

“You’re right,” you sighed, “Look, we are going to walk the Road. The Witches’ Road. And we need a divination witch, but the choice is yours. You can keep living your eternal life in this kind of shack you call home or try to go back on top. Be a witch again.”

Lilia’s mouth almost dropped, then. “The Road is a death wish.” 

“I survived,” Agatha waved with a grin. 

“And yet you’ve got no power.”

“That’s why I need to walk the Road, again. To restock.” 

Lilia swallowed thickly. The offer was appealing and yet, she was uncertain. Agatha was, after all, known for having betrayed her entire Coven, at a very young age too. “How can I trust you won’t take my power at the earliest opportunity?”

Before Agatha could say anything, you stepped forward. “She won’t. I guarantee it for you.” Despite your growing distaste for Lilia at this moment, your principles held steadfast: no more witches would die because of Agatha. Or you. That was a promise you intended to keep. “You seem to know very well what Agatha’s capable of, but my question is, are you just as familiar with my talent?”

Lilia almost found it amusing that you’d question her knowledge about witches of your kind. “I do. At least to some extent,” she clarified, “I know what a necromancer witch can do. And I also know you’re not a killer,” she finished on a softer note. 

“Agatha isn’t either,” you pointed out.

“Well, isn’t your loyalty sweet–”

Your lover took a step ahead, stretched out a hand, and moved you behind her, the moment your magic intensified around you and her, “Look, you’re right, I’ve got a reputation, I can’t help with that–” she trailed off, gesturing animatedly while doing so. “I don’t have time to persuade you into believing my intentions are genuine. Time’s running out and if you’re not willing to tag along, then fine. I’ll still Walk the Witches’ Road, restore my powers, and get my life back. Just remember that the path you’re currently on leads nowhere.” 

Her words were convincing enough, but it was the small piece of paper she was holding that truly caught Lilia’s attention. You hadn’t noticed it before, nor were you sure where it had come from, but the realization struck quickly. A smirk tugged at your lips as everything suddenly fell in place.

That was an eviction notice.

“Even if I were to accept, you’d still need more witches.”

Agatha had a solution for that too. She grinned from ear to ear, “I was hoping you’d use your witchcraft to come up with a list of names. You can do that, can’t you?” 

It was a rhetorical question, she knew she could. 

Lilia’s lips stretched into a defiant smile, “give me that,” she said, snatching the piece of paper from Agatha’s hands, along with a pen that lay on the table. She didn’t even have to think about the names, they were already there, poised on the tip of her tongue or rather, the pen. 

When she handed the paper back, both you and Agatha went as pale as a sheet. It couldn’t be. At the top were your name and Agatha’s, followed by Lilia Calderou, Jennifer Kale, Alice Wu Gulliver, and, finally, Rio Vidal.

[nervoushottee]

night shift | daryl dixon x fem!reader

Summary: [2k] You keep Daryl company on a night watch

Warnings: Set in Prison era of TWD (around season 3-4)

Note: back with more of our soft shy boy daryl. Thank you so much for all the beautiful reboots and likes and hello to the followers from my previous Daryl fic.

Hope you enjoy, mwah!

His side of the bed was cold.

Which wasn’t something unusual if he had a watch shift or had to take a piss. But you knew his shift was tomorrow night and if he had to go relieve himself he would’ve told you. Would have whispered it out in the darkness of the night with a small squeeze on your ankle. A physical tether and promise that he would come back.

But you didn’t hear any whispers nor feel a warm calloused hand squeeze your leg.

So you rub the sleep from your eyes, lift the blanket away from your body and go and look for him. Shoving your feet in the boots near the bed, you brush the curtain away and walk down through the quiet prison.

You see a few flashlights and torches on. One of them you already know to be Carl sneaking in a few more chapters of his comics before bed. A smile forming on your lips at the thought as you walk out into the common area. Metal tables that are usually filled with people are now empty and cold to the touch.

You pass by Karen who was coming from the bathroom/showers and ask if she’d seen Daryl. She shook her head with a yawn. You place your hand on her shoulder as a thank you, telling her to get some sleep.

The moon is shining bright and full when you open the door to the courtyard. You feel the cold seep through your long sleeve shirt. Hershel’s words come back to mind, that it felt like winter might come sooner than normal. The council has been doing extra inventory over the food, ammo and medicine just in case.

Crickets and the faint growls of walkers fill your ears. You look left and right and still no sign of Daryl. Finally you decide as your last resort and honestly too tired to walk about the whole prison to look for the man, you whistle. It’s a soft, short and low whistle. A bit quieter than you would normally do. Your throat a little dry from sleep but you knew if Daryl was out here, he’d hear the noise all the same.

A small smile grows on your face when you hear the faint whistle back from your left.

You turn and look up to see a tall figure standing in one of the cell towers. His body turned to you. You can't see his face but you know Daryl’s staring at you.

The walk up the top of the tower is short. You knock three times and two more times with a pause in between and Daryl doesn’t hesitate to open the hatch for you.

“What you doin’ up?”, you don’t respond as he extends his hand out to help you up.

“Should be sleepin’. ” he mutters as he locks up the hatch.

Your eyes roll. “Could say the same thing to you, mister.”

“Supposed to be Carol’s watch but the girls weren’ havin’ it. Said she’d take mine tomorrow.” You hum in understanding and walk over to the railing where he stands to watch over the prison. You could see everything from up here. The walkers around the gates, the pigs and chickens in their coops, the garden and everything else in between.

The chill of the wind goes through you, causing you to shiver. You feel Daryl slide the hand that’s not holding his crossbow around your waist and guide you closer to him. You put your hands inside his open jacket. Wrapping your arms around his waist to get as much warmth from his body heat as possible.

Daryl grumbles and you feel him shake his head against the top of yours. You look up at him in question. “Don’t even got somethn’ warm on. Could get sick.” You roll your eyes a second time that night.

“How was I supposed to know you were outside doing Carol’s shift if you didn’t tell me?” Daryl grunts a response back. A “he knows you’re right but won’t say it” grunt which pulls a teasing smile from your mouth.

“Oh. That reminds me.”, You unclasp your hands from his waist and reach for your butt pocket and pull out a smushed granola bar. “Here.”,you hand it out to him.

Daryl shakes his head. “ ‘S yours.”

He wasn’t wrong. With the amount of food the prison has now and how frequent all of you were able to get into a somewhat normal routine of eating. It brought back the hangriness you would once feel before the dead started walking. Something you didn’t really enjoy but happens nonetheless. Since then, you always kept little small snacks on you. Whether it's leftover bread from lunch or an apple Daryl’s snuck in your jacket or anything small you could get your hands on. Nothing too big that would put a dent into the rations though.

This time you kept a flattened granola bar you had found during one of the group runs. You found two and gave one to Carl who thanked you profusely. Remembering the Chewy brand of peanut butter chocolate chip granola bar he would eat when he was young. It was a bit stale and the chocolate and peanut butter chips were hard but it was tolerable. And food was still food.

“I know but I’m giving it to you.”

You know Daryl will protest. Your eyes meet his and have a silent conversation with one another. You’re not gonna back down, persistent as ever for him to take it. You can see it in his eyes that he wants you to keep it for later but you look right back at him. Even adding a squint for emphasis.

Daryl didn’t eat enough as it is. He usually was fine with scraps of anything he can get his hands on. Could last a long time on just that but most times you weren’t having it. If the prison had the supply then you were going to make sure he had a bit more than he lets himself have. You know it all trickles down to him feeling as if others need it more than him.

You tap the granola packet against his chest. Raising an eyebrow up at him, your chin on his chest. You can see a small faint smile grow on his lips. His eyes gleaming with adoration yet looks at you stoic and still. Finally, he relents with a deep sigh. Putting his crossbow down on the floor. It's awkward with how left hand is still loosely against your waist. You bend along with him as an attempt to help. Daryl turns back to you, his hand extended as he takes the granola bar from your awaiting hand.

You let go of him so he can open the wrapper and eat. Instantly feeling the difference of the loss of his warmth. He breaks a piece of. The smushed granola breaks off like bark and you snort at the sound. Daryl hands the first piece to you. His eyes tell you not to press him and for the third time that night, you roll your eyes. Taking the granola from his calloused hands.

The two of you eat quietly. You look around the prison, squint at the chickens and pigs sleeping. Fumbling with the last bit of granola, you can’t help but laugh quietly at its flatten appeal.

“Was’ funny?” Daryl questions.

You turn your head to see him already staring at you. You hand the last bit of granola to him and he eats it without hesitation. You knew he was hungry. “Have you ever had a Rice Krispy Treat?”

Daryl shakes his head, “The hell is that?”

You smile as you wipe the granola crumbs from your hands. “It’s this bar of marshmallow and rice puff cereal. They melt marshmallows down to a goo and pour the rice cereal and form them into little bars.” You explain to him. Daryl watches your hands as you use them to demonstrate as you talk.

He shakes his head again, “Never heard of ‘em.”

You hum, turning your back away from the look out. “I used to love them as a kid. They were sweet and chewy and we’d get them as a snack at school. My mom was a health nut and it was too many calories, too much sugar and all the too much that kids don’t really give a shit about.” You feel the rumble of Daryl’s laugh which makes you smile in return.

He pats his hands against his jacket pockets and pulls out his box of miscellaneous cigarettes. You remember taking a peek in them one night and seeing some that looked different than others. Daryl had told you he didn’t feel like carrying multiple boxes. So when he finds more cigarettes lying around he just adds them to his pack.

“I was laughing because I remember as a kid. My friends and I would deliberately smush the rice krispy treat.”Daryl’s eyebrows furrow as he lights his half smoked cigarette. Confused as all get go but still listens to you nonetheless.

“We’d put them on the floor and step on them really hard until we heard the wrapper pop and we’d just eat them flat like that.”

“Why?”

“Because for some reason we thought they tasted better that way. Sweeter.” You say with a smile as you remember the tasty treat and young smiles. “Man, I can’t even remember the last time I had one of those. Way before all this. Maybe when I was a teen or somethin’.”

Daryl extends the cigarette out to you in question. You hesitate before taking it. You don’t smoke often, sometimes the taste annoys you and sometimes it doesn’t. Daryl knows you don’t smoke enough for him to give you your own cigarette so he always just shares the one he smokes with you.

“These things don’ taste sweeter smushed.” He tells you with his head gesturing to the forgotten wrapper. You laugh and hit his shoulder playfully as you take a hit or two of the cig before handing back to him with a grimace. You wrap both hands around his arm closest to you, sliding one of your hands to connect with his and loosely play with his fingers.

“Yea well. Those rice treats sure tasted better smushed from what I remember.” You tell him as you place your head on his shoulder.

He doesn’t say anything, simply hums and the conversation slides into a comfortable silence. You hear the crickets again. The sound of Daryl’s cigarette burning. The small sounds of metal creaking from the prison. When it’s quiet like this, you forget that the world is dead. That you’re just out looking at the stars and the moon. With the cool wind as your friend.

The feeling of your locked hand in Daryl’s bump against your leg and pulls you out of the daydream. You look up at him with questioning eyes. He gives your face a once over, making sure you’re not stuck in your head again before speaking.

“You should get some sleep.”

“You tryna get rid of me Daryl Dixon?”

“I’m tryin’ to get your ass back in bed where it’s warm.”

You were cold. The two hits of nicotine smoke do nothing to warm your chest. And if you weren’t so cold then you’d probably protest and stay with him a little while longer. Instead you sigh and nod a few times. Agreeing to Daryl that it’s cold and that you should sleep. With that you let go of his arm with a tight squeeze and Daryl opens the hatch for you to go back down.

“Wake me up when you get back.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You snort softly and kiss his cheek. you feel a very faint tap on your backside before heading down the cell tower and back over to the prison side door. The sound of a faint whistle greets your ears on your walk back to the prison. Stopping you in your tracks, you smile softly to yourself and whistle right back to him. A good night of sorts.

You curl back up into the sheets and think about cigarette smoke and rice krispie treats.

[scary-grace]

if my heart was a house - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

It's been nineteen years since Tomura was sentenced to death, and you've built a life in the space he left behind, braced each day for the worst. You're prepared for everything - the questions your daughter asks, the memories that sting a little more in the winter, the specter of the news you've been afraid of for years. But of all the things life's thrown your way, it's the one you haven't dared to hope for might be the one thing you can't handle. (cross-posted to Ao3) written for @pixelcafe-network's Challenge Friday event! Banner/divider by @cafekitsune

You know even before you open your eyes that it’s snowed overnight. The world always sounds too quiet afterwards, and you used to have so many words to describe it – almost comforting, almost eerie, almost serene. But that was when you were young. Now you’d replace all those words with a different one: Empty. You used to love the winter, the first snowfall of the year, and you still do. But it always reminds you of him. And he’s gone.

He’s been gone for years now. The length of time you spent with him has been swallowed six times over by the time you’ve spent alone, and you’d like to think that even in the beginning, you wore your sadness well. Now, nineteen years in, it barely shows. You keep it buried through spring, summer, autumn – until the first frost, the first freezing rain, the first icicles on the eaves and the first drifts of snow on the ground, when it crawls free of the grave and sprawls on top of you at night. You met Tomura in the winter. Fell in love with him by spring. You got two more winters with him after that, and then he was gone, and nothing can fill the space he left behind.

But even if one chamber of your heart is frozen open for good, the rest is still alive. And there’s room for a different kind of love, a way for you to translate your grief rather than buckle beneath its weight. There’s a knock at the door to your room, and your daughter’s voice slips cautiously in. “Mom? Are you awake?”

“I’m awake,” you say, and you blink away the tears. “Come in.”

Even at eighteen, Chihiro still hesitates before she steps across the threshold, but once she’s made the choice, she throws herself onto the bed with abandon. “We got half a meter. That’s even more than the forecast said.”

“And we’ve still got power. Lucky us.” You wipe your eyes, just in case, and turn to face her. “Good morning, kiddo.”

“How long do I have to be kiddo? I’m almost done with high school.”

“Okay, you’re right,” you compromise, even as your throat tightens. She’s never met her father, never will, but the tone in her voice when she’s putting her foot down reminds you painfully of him. “What should I call you instead?”

“My name. You’re the one who picked it out.” Chihiro’s dressed in her pajamas with a hoodie thrown over them, and you can see her phone lighting up through the front pocket. “Don’t you like it anymore?”

“I love it,” you say, “Chihiro. Did you sleep okay?”

She nods. There’s something on her mind. You can tell by the way her brow furrows, and the way her mouth thins tells you that she’s planning to keep it quiet. Or that she’ll try. Chihiro has a hard time keeping her feelings inside. She and Tomura have that in common, but while you always gave Tomura space to figure out how to say what he needed to, you always let Chihiro know you’re aware, and listening. “What’s going on up there, Chihiro, my daughter who’s almost done with high school?”

She rolls her eyes, but a smile is pulling up the corner of her mouth. Her smile’s always been a little lopsided, but so has yours. “There’s only one morning of the year you ever sleep in,” she says. “The first time it snows. And then you’re different all day – not mad or depressed or anything. Just different. I was wondering why.”

“I’m sorry,” you say at once. “I’m not upset with you. It’s not anything you did. You could never do anything that would –”

“I know, Mom.” Chihiro’s crimson eyes are intent on your face. “It’s one day. You get to be weird if you need to. I just wanted to know – is it because of him? My dad?”

When she was little, you’d lie, and tell her the snow is so pretty that you can’t help but get emotional about it. There was a while where she didn’t ask. But she’s old enough now that you can admit it. You think. “Yeah,” you say. Your voice is steady. You’re proud of that. “This is around the time of year when I first met him. It brings back memories.”

“Good ones?” Chihiro settles into the pillows the way she used to when she wanted a bedtime story. “Tell me.”

You hesitate. “Not the gross stuff,” Chihiro clarifies. “I don’t want to know about that. Kaori’s mom tells her all about that stuff. And she bought her a vibrator for her birthday.”

“Huh,” you say after a second. “That’s sex-positive of her.”

“You’re being nice. What do you really think?”

You think she reminds you of Tomura. He never let you duck behind the niceties; he always wanted to know your real reaction. “I think it’s weird. Especially if Kaori didn’t ask.”

“She definitely didn’t. She’s really shy.” Chihiro grimaces. “I’m glad you’re not weird like that.”

Not weird is a good thing. Maybe. “You know I’m here if you need to talk about –”

“No, Mom. Gross.” Chihiro buries her face in the pillow. “Tell me about my dad.”

“Okay,” you say. “Your dad. He, um – there was something about him. I never met someone like him before, and I haven’t since. He told the truth about stuff, even if it wasn’t pretty, and he said what he thought even if it was a bad time. One time we went on a double date with one of his friends and their new boyfriend, and the first question out of your dad’s mouth was whether the boyfriend had drawn his facial hair on.”

Chihiro wheezes. “That’s awful,” she says, but she’s laughing – just like you were. “Had he, though?”

“We never got an answer,” you say, and Chihiro laughs harder. “Your dad could be a jackass sometimes, even to people he liked, but when it really mattered, he’d –”

Kill for them. You swallow the words. “He was there for people when they needed him,” you say instead. “He was always there for me. Even if he didn’t know the right thing to say, I could count on him to listen. And he never gave me a hard time for standing up for myself. Not even when we argued about things.”

You were sort of a pushover early on. You were worried that saying no would make you difficult, and being difficult would make him want to leave. It wasn’t how you were most of the time, or how you’d been before you and Tomura got together, and he wasn’t scared to call you out. You remember the grin on his face the first time you really put your foot down about something, set a boundary and held it. I knew you were in there somewhere, he said. This is how I like you.

That was something you loved about being with Tomura: You were good for each other. You made each other better. “It sounds like you were happy,” Chihiro ventures, and you nod. “Do you think you’d have gotten married sometime? Did you guys want kids?”

Married, maybe. Your friends and his all used to joke that the two of you were the old married couple of the group, but while you talked about the future, you almost never talked about marriage to go with it. Not until it was almost the end, and you never made it to the discussion, any discussion, about having kids. Your pregnancy was catastrophic because of what happened before it, but even if it hadn’t been, it would have raised a lot of questions that neither you nor Tomura knew how to answer. “We were really young,” you say. “I was only twenty-two. We hadn’t had that talk yet. But I think we’d have talked about it if –”

“Yeah.” Chihiro’s voice is muffled by the pillows. “Did he know about me? Before he died?”

Your stomach clenches in a tight, guilty cramp, one that’s been getting steadily worse over the years. “I didn’t find out until after he was gone.”

“Oh.” Chihiro’s voice goes small and wavering. “Do you think – um – do you think he would have liked me?”

There’s no way to know. That means what you say next isn’t technically a lie. “He would have loved you,” you say. Her shoulders shake, and you rest your hand on her back to settle her, the same as you’ve done since she was a baby. “Just like I do.”

Chihiro turns her head to look at you, her eyes glassy with tears. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You rub her back in slow circles. “Ask about him whenever you want. I’ll always try to answer.”

“Do you miss him?”

Other than your daughter’s ragged breathing and your own steady, shallow sips of air, there’s no sound in the world. When you open up the blinds, you’ll see an empty snowfield, unmarked by human footprints for a little while longer. Footprints in the snow will be filled in by the next storm or melted away in the thaw, but the marks Tomura left on you are indelible. There will never be room for someone else where he stood, because he’s still standing there, somewhere you can’t reach.

Sometimes you’ve thought, selfishly, that it would be easier if he really was dead, just so you wouldn’t have to cope with knowing that he’s still out there, knowing exactly where he is with no way to get to him. You’ve let Chihiro think he’s dead. You tell yourself it’s easier for her this way. It’s better that she doesn’t know what really happened to Tomura. The fact that you know is bad enough.

“Mom?” Chihiro asks, and you realize you never answered her question. “Do you still miss my dad?”

You still love him. That’s the same thing. “I do,” you say. “Every day.”

Chihiro cries herself out, and then it’s time to get moving. Her school has a late start, not a snow day, and you still have to go to work. You make a special breakfast anyway, play the music you and she used to dance to when she was little, and soon your daughter’s smiling again. Chihiro doesn’t have trouble being happy, not like you and Tomura both did. Still do, probably. Your depression was just that, but the sheer weight of Tomura’s past regularly threatened to crush him, and you doubt the nineteen years he’s already spent in prison have done anything to improve things.

But Chihiro knows how to be happy, and you know, because she tells you when she’s not. You’re not naive enough to think your teenager tells you everything, but she knows she can talk to you. And she does talk to you, getting steadily back to herself as you eat breakfast and clean up and get ready, her for school, you for work. Then the two of you crunch your way to the car and start digging it out of the snow. The snowplows must have been out last night and early this morning, because the road doesn’t have much in the way of accumulation. You’ll have to be careful of ice.

You’re both a little sweaty under your winter coats when you get in the car at last. “I’m already gross,” Chihiro complains. “Why can’t we get a garage or something?”

“Where would we put it?”

“In your room,” Chihiro says. You snort. “Or in mine. Since I’m going to uni soon.”

Your heart sinks whenever she says that, but you’ll be damned before you let it show. “You’ll still need somewhere to stay when you come back,” you say. “Maybe we don’t really need a kitchen.”

Chihiro rolls her eyes. “What? You’re not planning to turn my room into, like, a sewing room or something once I go to school?”

"No," you say. "My parents did that when I went away. I hated it."

Looking back, you took it way too personally. They weren’t saying they were done with you, or that the place you’d grown up wasn’t home anymore. You were just hurting, and looking desperately for a reason why. Coming back on school break to find your room cleaned out was a good one. “I’m not going to do that,” you say to Chihiro.“Even when you live somewhere else, you’ll always have a place with me.”

Chihiro glances sideways at you. “Kaori’s mom is freaking about her moving away.”

“Kaori’s mom freaks out a lot,” you say. You and she should have bonded, because you’re the only single moms in this small town, but Kaori’s mom makes you nervous. “How does Kaori feel about it?”

“Her mom will be fine. She’s not worried.” Chihiro pauses for a long moment. “I am, though.”

Your grip on the steering wheel goes white-knuckled. “About Kaori’s mom?”

“About you,” Chihiro says. You reach a stop sign, come to a full stop, and turn to look at her. There’s a stubborn set to her jaw that’s all too familiar. “Kaori’s mom is crazy. But Kaori’s mom has a life. She goes out some nights and her friends come to visit and she has parties and hobbies —“

“I have hobbies,” you protest.

“Yeah. Your hobby means you hang out in the house all day,” Chihiro says. “You can't carry your sewing machine and all your fabric to a craft party. Maybe if you learned to knit or something —“

“I’m not going to knit.”

“Something,” Chihiro says firmly. “Something that means you’re not alone all the time. I’m excited to go to uni. I’m worried about what’s going to happen to you when I leave.”

You’ve fucked up, big-time. “Chihiro, I understand why you —“ No, you don’t. All you understand is that you were stupid to think your damage didn’t show, awful for making Chihiro think she has any responsibility for your mess of an internal life at all. “It’s not your job to make sure I’m okay. I can take care of myself.”

“It’s not about taking care of yourself,” Chihiro fires back. “It’s about being happy. You want me to be happy, right?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “I love you.”

“I love you, Mom.” Chihiro says it bluntly, unashamedly. “So I want you to be happy, too.”

You don’t know what to say. It’s quiet, and it keeps being quiet, until a car pulls up behind you and honks its horn. You refocus on driving in a hurry. With you distracted, Chihiro pushes the point. “You barely even talk to people, Mom. Kaori’s mom thinks you hate her because you never say yes when she asks to hang out.”

“I don’t hate her,” you say. Chihiro’s skeptical look skewers you to the seat. “Look, she’s just not — it’s complicated.”

“No it’s not,” Chihiro says. “Next time she asks to hang out, say yes.”

No. “What if I sign up for an art class at the community center instead?”

“Do that, too,” Chihiro says. You grimace. “You want me to be happy. I’ll be happy if I know you’re talking to other people and doing stuff that’s not in the house. I don’t want to come back on a school break and find out you’ve only been talking to the trees or something.”

She pauses. “I guess you can talk to them a little. As long as you don’t start thinking they talk back.”

“Got it.”

You drop Chihiro off at school less than a minute before the bell rings, but she still makes you get out of the car and hug her. She hugs really tight. She got that from you. Tomura used to complain jokingly that you were a boa constrictor in a girlfriend suit. You kiss her forehead and send her on her way, then get back in the car and drive to work, feeling even worse than you did when you opened your eyes to a snowy silence this morning.

Chihiro’s wrong about Kaori’s mom. It is complicated — not because you hate her, but because she’s the nosiest person in town, and because you’ve got a lot to hide. You didn’t mean to have a lot to hide. It was just something that happened, and as the years since Tomura’s conviction have unfolded, you’ve gotten steadily more attached to the lie. It’s not about you. It’s about Chihiro, who shouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that her father’s a convicted murderer awaiting execution in supermax prison, who shouldn’t have to deal with people looking at her differently. It’s about Chihiro. It’s not about you.

Or so you tell yourself. But there’s a reason you fled from Tokyo in the aftermath of Tomura’s sentencing, why you cut off contact with his friends and yours, why you dyed your hair and changed your phone number and nuked your social media along with every email address you ever had. People hated Tomura. And because you were with him, they hated you, too. It didn’t matter that you knew nothing. That the murders he was accused of committing took place before you met him. Even if you’d dumped him the second he was arrested, you’d have been called stupid for not seeing it all along. You couldn’t hack it. You were headed for a breakdown at high speed. But you would have stayed, if Tomura hadn’t told you to go.

The last time you spoke to him was after his sentencing, as they were taking him away. You seized his hands, already cuffed, his wrists chafed raw, and for a split second, he held on so tightly that one of your fingers broke. Then he looked up, hopeless fury in his eyes. Get out of here. Don’t come back. I don’t want you to watch.

You thought he meant he didn’t want you to watch him being shoved into an armored truck for transport, but when your letters came back unopened, when he refused to let you visit or even call him, you realized the truth. He wanted you gone, just as completely as he was gone from you. That moment in the courtroom was the last one you’d ever have with him. And that was what tripped the breakdown at last. You were throwing up too much to overdose and you were too chicken to try another way, so you went to the doctor to figure it out so you could kill yourself with your chosen method. You just wanted anti-nausea pills. The doctor did bloodwork, made you give a urine sample, and gave you a diagnosis.

“Hyperemesis gravidarum,” he said, and you looked at him blankly. “You’re pregnant.”

He expected you to get an abortion. Everybody and their mother probably expected you to get an abortion. If Tomura had been there, if your accidental pregnancy had been something the two of you were dealing with together, it probably wouldn’t have even been a question. And for any other pregnancy, it would have been the only viable option in your mind. But when you thought about it, about this pregnancy, your mind rejected the idea so violently that you threw up again. You couldn’t get rid of this baby. You needed it. Looking back, you know your reasons were terrible. You had a kid so you wouldn’t be alone. So you’d keep some memory of Tomura close to you always. So you’d have a reason to keep getting up in the morning, a reason to eat and sleep and exercise, a reason to find a new job in your new town and work hard at it. So someone would need you. So you could do something with your agony at losing Tomura, grab it with both hands and twist it back into love. Deciding to have the baby was the most selfish thing you’ve ever done. And raising Chihiro, loving her, is the most important thing you’ll ever do.

She’s right about you. You do live for her. And if that means signing up for a pottery class at the community center and agreeing to grab tea with Kaori’s crazy mom so she won’t worry, that’s what you’ll do.

You work in the combined billing/records/HR department at your town’s medical clinic, with occasional ventures to the front desk when a receptionist is out sick. You spend a lot of time staring at the computer, a lot of time on the phone, and very little time talking to your coworkers — but you’ve been here for seventeen years, longer than almost anyone else. You were working here before some of your coworkers were out of primary school.

Dr. Kawada is your age, though. He greets you as you walk in. “Glad you made it. Anybody who lives past the town limits is staying home.”

“They should. The roads are terrible even with the plows out.” You hang up your coat, then sit down and power up your computer. “How many patients do you think we’ll get?”

“We have a ton of cancelations already,” Keiko, the nurse-practitioner, reports. She would be the one to make it in — Kawada would crawl here with his teeth if he had to, and she’s his wife, so of course she tagged along. “And there was a call for you, bright and early.”

“For billing? Somebody must have been losing sleep.”

“Not for billing. For you,” Keiko admonishes. “I forwarded it to your phone. It seemed kind of urgent.”

You log into your computer, then decide to check the message while you’re waiting for it to perk up. The voice on the other end of the line is completely unfamiliar. “Hi there. My name is Midoriya Izuku, and I’m a lawyer with the —" There’s a really loud sound on the other end of the line, completely obliterating whatever he was about to tell you about the organization he’s part of. “Due to confidentiality I can’t share much over the phone, but it’s really important that I get in touch with you! Please call me back to arrange a meeting —“

You hang up and delete the message. You don’t like lawyers, and this guy sounds like he has prosecutor written all over him. Or else he’s a reporter lying to you about his credentials to trick you into giving him a quote. The twenty-year anniversary of Tomura’s conviction is coming up, and there were articles at the ten-year mark, too. You’re more concerned about how this Midoriya Izuku got your number in the first place. You’re not easy to find. You made yourself tough to find on purpose.

It’s a quiet day at the office. Almost all the appointments are canceled, which means that the walk-ins get seen almost immediately, and you have time to start on your end-of-the-year reports. And time to talk, because Keiko and Dr. Kawada are in talkative moods, and you’re the best and only target. “How’s Chihiro?” Keiko asks. “Has she picked a school?”

“Not yet. Still weighing her options,” you say. And then, because you’re tired: “She’s worried about what will happen to me once she leaves.”

“Tell her not to worry. We’ll take care of you!” Dr. Kawada says with a grin. “What’s she worried about, anyway? You seem fine.”

“I am fine. But I’m signing up for an art class so she’ll stop worrying that I’m going to wither away alone,” you say. Dr. Kawada snorts. “How I’m doing isn’t her responsibility. She didn’t ask to be born and I didn’t have her so she could take care of me.”

“Nobody thinks that,” Keiko says. She gives you a weird look, but then she changes the subject. “Hey, but even once she moves out, you don’t have to be alone! Me and Shogo know lots of people we want to set you up with!”

You’re pretty sure your face goes dead white. “What?”

“I mean, I know you haven’t been seeing anyone since you moved here —"

“Because it’s not about me anymore. It’s about Chihiro.”

“Yeah, but if it’s about Chihiro, shouldn’t you want her not to worry?” Kawada’s not helping. You feel like you might be sick. “I moved here right around when you did and I’ve never seen you date anybody. Things must have gone down real bad with your ex —"

“Shogo!” Keiko swats him, mortified, then looks at you. “Sorry. He should know better.”

“Chihiro’s dad isn’t my ex,” you say. “He’s — gone.”

It’s the same trick you’ve been pulling on Chihiro since she was old enough to ask, and it works on adults, too. Kawada backs off, chagrined. “Sorry,” he says. There’s an awkward silence. “I’ve known you for seventeen years. How did I miss that?”

“I don’t like to talk about it.” You don’t even like thinking about Tomura, but every winter, it’s unavoidable. Every winter the sadness curls up around you, and although time is supposed to heal things, it’s never gotten any easier to throw off come spring. “I wouldn’t wish it on anybody.”

“Yeah,” Keiko agrees. Her eyes are sad. “Still. Tell Chihiro not to worry. We’ll keep an eye on you.”

You force a smile, force your eyes to brighten. “Thank you.”

It’s the clinic’s slowest day in a while, and you spend a lot of it screwing around on the computer. You sign up for an art class, one that meets the same night as Chihiro’s choir practice, so you can pick her up on the way home. You google therapists, too — maybe she’ll feel better if she knows you have one. And maybe you need one. Chihiro’s your daughter, the most important person in the world, the one you’d sacrifice everything to care for. Caring for her takes up most of your thoughts, distracts you from the pain of losing Tomura. Once Chihiro goes away for school, there won’t be anything left to keep your sadness at bay.

Tomura’s been on death row for nineteen years. They could execute him at any time, and you’d never know until his name was released by the government. During his trial, when you realized the death penalty was on the table, you looked up how it would happen. It still haunts you sometimes. You don’t want to think of Tomura with his neck broken, his eyes open and staring, dying with feet chained together and his hands bound behind his back. You want to remember him before it all went wrong. Back when you still believed he was the best thing that ever happened to you.

You met him at university, on a day when the campus was iced over. Your on-campus job started early, which meant you had to make your way to the library on paths that wouldn’t be de-iced for another hour. Tomura had an early class. He was headed the opposite way from you, and you were both so focused on not slipping and falling that you walked headlong into each other and fell on your asses anyway.

Your backpack slid from your shoulders, and the papers Tomura was carrying scattered across the path. Fuck, Tomura said, with feeling, and you laughed. What’s so funny? You fell down, too.

I know, but — An image popped into your head and set you off all over again. We look like we’re in a cartoon. Except without the stars and planets around our heads.

No stars and planets? I want a refund, Tomura said, and cracked a smile that opened up a split in his lower lip. Damn it —

Here. You retrieved your fallen backpack and a packet of tissues, then started gathering the papers Tomura had dropped. Sorry. It looked like you were in a hurry to go somewhere.

Comp-Sci building. I’m never signing up for a 7am again. Tomura’s phone buzzed, and he yanked it out of his pocket. And now it’s canceled. Motherfucker. I have to walk all the way back —

Maybe not all the way, you said, and he looked at you. I work at the library. It’s definitely open. You can hang out there until they get the paths salted.

Tomura looked at you, the tissue still pressed to his bloody lip. You didn’t know his name yet, didn’t know anything about him, but there was something you liked about his face. Something you liked about how he still got in on your joke, even though he was pissed about the fall. Something about the fact that he hadn’t gotten up yet, even though you’d gathered all his papers and were holding them out for him to take. I’ll level with you, he said after a second. I’ve never been to the library.

I get that a lot, you said, and you stood up. The plan was to hold out your hand to help him up, but you moved too fast, and your feet slid out from under you again. You managed to hang on to Tomura’s papers, but you went down hard. Fuck!

Tomura didn’t ask if you were okay. He just lifted the papers out of your hands, set them aside, and helped you sit up with hands that shook ever so slightly. I’m surprised you swore, he said, and you raised an eyebrow. You look like the type who says fiddlesticks instead.

Fuck off, you said, and he laughed. Making him laugh felt like an achievement, one you were proud to win. Looking back, that was when you knew you were in trouble. Maybe we should just crawl to the library.

It’s cold. Walking’s faster. Tomura got shakily to his knees, then his feet, and you copied him. I bet we can make it.

He stumbled twice on the way there, and you stumbled once, but neither of you fell again. You were leaning on each other to balance, more contact than you ever made with guys you weren’t dating, and nothing about it felt tense or awkward. It was just the only thing that made sense to do.

And that’s how everything was with Tomura. It just made sense, and you were so happy — and you think Tomura was, too. You fought sometimes, sure, but everyone does. Sometimes you didn’t know the right thing to say, but neither did he. He had a rough past, and you didn’t push him to talk about it. You just let him share what he wanted to, when he wanted to, and towards the end you had something close to the whole picture. It just didn’t have the murders in it.

No. You don’t want to think about this. You know what you believe about this, and going in a circle won’t help solve anything. You decide to redirect your feelings of frustration by looking up the lawyer who called you. Sure enough, he’s a prosecutor— or he was. Looking at the profile on his law firm’s website, you’re not sure what he does. He was in the news a year or so ago. Some case involving the yakuza.

The bell rings, and since Keiko’s on break and the receptionist got snowed in, you hurry up to the front to check the new patient in. It’s a good distraction. It helps to stay busy. When you’re busy, you don’t have to think about any of it — not Tomura, not the fact that he’s gone, not the fact that your daughter is leaving soon, too. And you don’t have to think about how it won’t be long before all your distractions run out.

[kpop---scenarios]

Red Lights (1)

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Warning: Mentions of DV, Feeling like you're being stalked, language,

Genre: Stalker, Serial Killer

Word Count: 2k

Everything Taglist:

@wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97

@1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat

@pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog

@anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr

@jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona @31maze13

@stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez @stayatinykatsy

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, let me know!

Don't look back. Don't look back. Keep running. Run faster.

You breathe heavily as you take a sharp corner, hiding yourself against the brick wall in the dark alley. You can hear the stomping of his feet from down the street, he's looking for you. You slap your hand over your mouth, trying to silence your breathing. You watch the opening of the alley, the dim light casting small shadows over the damp pavement. You're trying not to cry as you feel like your entire stomach is going to come up and out of your throat.

The footsteps slow down, now only the shuffling of his feet is what you can hear. You watch as he steps into the light.

Your breath hitches as you hold your hand over your mouth harder.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” He sings, his voice is low, it's menacing.

Terrifying.

“If you think I won't find you, Y/N..” He pauses with a low chuckle. “You're sorely mistaken, my love… I always find what belongs to me.”

**

“You need a boyfriend.” Your friend, Soomi says, glancing over at you as the two of you browse through the racks of clothes.

“What I need is some new pants.” You laugh. “Not a boyfriend. I have no interest in dating again, not after Derek.” You say, shuttering at the thought of your ex boyfriend and the hell he had put you through during your short lived relationship.

“Derek was bad, yes, but not all are like that.” She says, handing you a pair of pants she had picked out for you.

“I'm sure they're not.” You smile, making your way to the change room. “But I have no interest in finding out if they are good or bad.” You finish, walking into the room, closing the curtain behind you.

“You can't let one bad experience dictate the rest of your dating life.” She sighs.

You pull open the curtain, cutting her off from what she was going to say next, glaring at her. You knew she was trying to help you, but she barely knew half of the shit you had put up with when you were with Derek, and how hard it was when you left him only weeks ago. Not to mention the fact that you were sure he was stalking you after you broke up with him. He didn't want to break up, and you'd thought he might have finally just accepted it after you blocked him on everything and moved to a different apartment but now you weren't so sure.

Your mind flashes back to a night in your old apartment, you had ordered dinner for you and Derek. You were so excited, the table looked so cute, flowers and candles, the food laid out as you waited for him to get back from work. As you heard the door unlock, your heart dropped, suddenly the rush of feeling like you somehow fucked up took over your body as he walked in the door. He loudly and aggressively took off his shoes, dropping his briefcase on the floor as he stomped towards you. You smile at him, and he shoves you against the wall, wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing tightly.

“Who the fuck is this shit for?” He snaps. You're clawing at his hands trying to peel him off of you as you desperately try to breathe.

“Y-you.” You choke out, gasping.

“Fucking whore.” He spits, releasing you to drop to the floor as he walks away, slamming the bathroom door.

You shake your head as you come back to reality. “Yeah, I know.” You sigh. “I'm just not ready yet, okay?” You half smile. She nods her head, accepting it, for now. But you knew that it wasn't the last that you'd hear about it.

A few hours later, you're laying in bed, scrolling through your phone mindlessly, not thinking about a single thing, doing whatever you want without a care in the world. It was a refreshing feeling, one that you weren't used to. When you had been with Derek, you were constantly on high alert, always tense, anxiously waiting for one of his break downs, waiting for him to snap and get mad at you for something miniscule, blowing it so out of proportion.

You shake your head at the memories, rather trying to focus on current positive things in your life. You plugged your phone in, turning on your favorite show and simply drifted off into a peaceful sleep - or what you hoped would be.

But it wasn't. You tossed and turned as your dreams became increasingly more terrifying with each turn.

Snapshots of you running down the sidewalk in the middle of the night, hiding in the alley, against the wall. Your hand covering your mouth. You can see his shadow… he's standing there, slowly walking towards where you were hiding in the dark.

“Please no.” You cry out…

Until finally, you shoot up in bed, feeling the sweat dripping from your face. Your chest throbs as you sit with your eyes closed, trying to breathe through it.

You take one more deep breath, opening your eyes, seeing the shadow of a man standing in your doorway. You close your eyes again as you let out an ear curdling scream, opening your eyes once more and seeing no one there now.

Your body shakes as you try to decide what to do. Did you call the cops? Check your apartment? You locked the door…you swore you did but now you were second guessing yourself. Did you leave a window open? Was this just a dream? Yeah that must be it, it was just a dream, maybe a figment of your imagination.

You rolled out of your bed, your legs shaking as you slowly made your way out of your room. Your fingertips hover shakily above the hallway light switch as your heart races. You can feel your face heating up as you squeeze your eyes shut, clicking the light on. You take a breath before you just barely open one eye, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Both eyes open as your heart settles down, and your anxiety slowly fades away. You shuffle through the rest of your apartment, seeing nothing out of place. Your door was locked, your windows closed. You felt safe now, safe enough to turn out all the lights once again and crawl back into your bed. Sleep came easily for the rest of the night, but the nightmares refused to fade.

**

A few days later, you're standing at the bar, grabbing four drinks to bring back to your table of friends. You walk over, setting them down in front of each girl, before taking your seat beside Soomi.

“So.” Seulgi says, clasping her hands together. “Soomi says you're refusing to go after any men ever again?” She asks, cocking her head to the side.

“Oh my god.” You laugh. “For the foreseeable future, yes I have absolutely no plans.” You say, taking a sip of your drink. The three girls stare at you, each one raising an eyebrow.

“That sounds suspicious.” Chae says, giving you a side eye as she flips her hair behind her shoulder.

“It's not suspicious.” You say. “Why is my romantic life always the topic of conversation these days?”

“Because, it's like you're living in the past with Derek. So he swore at you once or twice, that's enough to swear off all men?” Seulgi asks.

“Especially maybe one with brown hair, gorgeous eyes and the most attractive face you'd ever seen?” Soomi sings.

“Um.” You breathe. You had never told any of them the real reason you broke up with him, or the fact that you thought he was stalking you after the break up. You knew they would worry, and while you loved them for it, it would be even more relentless than the conversations about your love life. “Look at that, more drinks needed. I'll get them.” You say, standing up from your chair, and walking back to the bar. You take a seat on the stool as you wait for the bartender to be finished.

“Y/N?” You hear from behind you. You turn around, and surprisingly, you see a man that Soomi had just described.

“Yes?” You say, almost hypnotized by his looks.

“It's me.” He laughs. “Chan.”

“Okay?” You say, laughing awkwardly. You had no idea who this man was or how he knew who you were.

“Are we still on for Saturday?” He asks.

“I'm sorry…” you begin. Before you can continue, the bartender is impatiently standing in front of you waiting for you to order. You tell him what drinks you want and when you look back, Chan is gone. You pay for your drinks, bringing them back to the table. You sit down in your chair, looking at each girl.

“The weirdest thing just happened to me.” You say. “A guy just came up to me and asked if we were still on for Saturday.” You murmur.

“Oh?” Seulgi responds.

“Yeah and he knew my name.” You add, looking between each girl.

“What did you say?” Chae asks.

“I couldn't really say anything, the bartender was tapping his foot while waiting for me and when I looked back he was gone.” You explain.

“That's weird.” Seulgi murmurs, giving you an uncomfortable look.

“What did you think of him?” Soomi asks.

“Why?” You wonder.

“Just, you know, curious.” She smiles.

“He was oddly specific to someone you described earlier.” You mention.

And then it hits you.

“Oh Christ, Soomi.” You sigh. “What did you do?”

“I signed you up for a dating site!” She squeals, clapping her hands. “Chan was one of the first you matched with.”

“What about I don't want to date, do you not understand?” You ask.

“I thought maybe it would be the little push you need!” She exclaims. “You have to get back out there!”

“That's not your decision to make.” You snap. “Delete it and fucking stop. I will tell you when I'm ready!” You spit, standing up, grabbing your purse and storming out of the bar.

You walked home that night, taking your time, hoping the cool air would help you calm down. It didn't really work. You were pissed off, annoyed and hurt. She had no boundaries and didn't fucking listen. You should have to explain yourself to her why you don't want to date right now.

Your walk was quiet and uneventful. You got home and checked your phone, seeing a few missed calls and texts from the girls, but mostly from Soomi, apologizing. You decided to ignore her for the rest of the night, maybe tomorrow you'd talk to her but tonight you had no interest at all.

The next day, you were wandering around the grocery store near your house when your cart bumps into someone else's. You looked up in horror, you'd been so wrapped up in your own head tou hadn't been paying attention to where you were going.

“I'm so sorry.” You say, looking up, seeing a familiar face. “Chan.”

“Y/N.” He smiles. “No worries at all.” He finishes, pulling his cart away to move around you but for some reason you felt compelled to explain things to him.

“I didn't know!” you yell. He turns around to look at you. “About the date I mean.”

“Oh?”

“My friend signed me up for the dating site… without my knowledge.”

“Oh shit. I'm sorry.” He says. “Why would someone do that?”

“She wants me to get back out there.” You sigh.

“Well that's not her decision to decide when someone is ready.” He responds.

“That's what I said.” You giggle. “Anyways, I'm really sorry.”

“Hey, it's all good. I don't want you to feel like you're being forced.” He smiles. “But if you ever decide to change your mind… I'd love to take you out.” He says, pushing his cart away. You watch him walk away, cursing Soomi silently in your head.

“Chan, wait!” You yell out. “You know…one date couldn’t hurt… right?”

“No.” He smiles.

“One date couldn't hurt.”

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[lostintransist]

.. that idea on ghost coming back with his therapist’s contact is brilliant, could we get a pt2 when we do hit him up cuz,,, it’s inevitable and he pulls up in that same motorbike and actually plans a banger date?

Just for you! A part 2! Original post for anyone curious is here.

Also thank you for what I am percieving as patience, I had things to accomplish today. But it gave me time to think about this...

CW: I can't think of any.

You held onto the business card. No real explanation that would satisfy you or anyone who might have asked. And your best friend did ask. Repeatedly.

“You still have the card?” She asked over drinks.

Running your tongue along the inside of your teeth you debate on how to answer.

“Yes,” you reply curtly.

“And have you called the therapist or texted him yet? Do you even know his name?” She followed her questions with a sip of her drink.

“All I know is that when I search up S. Riley I get a few hits about a brother to a home invasion that ended badly a few years ago and nothing else. No one on social media matches him and without his full name or maybe a birthday I can’t find much else about someone that might be him.” Flopping back into the couch you watch your drink slide side to side as you tip your glass.

“You don’t have to call him but you have to make a decision about this soon,” she chides.

“No decision is a decision though.”

She gives you the flattest stare she can muster. Seeing as your best friend is autistic it’s a pretty impressive flat look.

Heaving a sigh you concede the point.

“Fine. I get it. I can’t avoid this forever, what if he finds me at a coffee shop again and asks why I haven’t called? S. Riley sure does seem like a man who doesn’t know how to leave well enough alone.”

“I think you should call and tell the therapist to inform him that you would like to never see him again, but you have this whole ‘attracted to the adventure’ thing going on.” She rolled her eyes.

Aghast at being so well identified, it does not matter that she is your best friend, you fire off a rude gesture at her. She only laughs.

“At least I never have to worry about not realizing I fumbled the woman of my dreams three months late,” you say with a wicked grin.

“It was one time!” Your best friend launches one of the couch pillows at you.

“Twice.”

The purest look of concern crosses her face.

“Twice?” Comes her panicked ask.

“Once at the bar,” she nods, “And then last week at the bookstore.”

Watching her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open you can’t help the full-body laugh that overtakes you.

“I thought she was just being nice!” Her voice gets squeakier with each word.

You are laughing so hard you can’t breathe.

“I fucking love you and am so glad we are best friends,” you manage to croak out between ab-shredding laughs.

💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠

Your next early day off of work you pop in your headphones and call the number printed on the business card. It sat between your insurance card and your driver’s license. Those two cards didn’t see much action and would keep the business card from disappearing.

“Thank you for calling Healing Sky Therapy, how can I help you?”

“Yes, is Anna Mortz available?”

“For a phone call or an appointment?” The sound of clicking keys bubbles over the line.

“A phone call, I am calling to speak to her about a current patient of hers.”

“Okay, and are you a provider?”

This causes you to pause. Did you really need to explain why or how you were connected to this crazy situation? No. Bare bones it is.

“No, I should be listed as a person who can discuss the care of a patient of hers who goes by S. Riley?”

“Okay,” she drags the word. “It looks like I can drop a call in her schedule in about forty minutes if that would work for you?”

“That would work great, can I give you a callback number?”

“Yes, I can take that when you are ready.”

Finishing up the phone call you grabbed your grocery list and headed out the door. Your phone rang as you were transferring bags from your cart to your trunk. The number looked vaguely familiar and so you answered.

“Hi this is Anna Mortz, I am returning a phone call.”

“Yes, hi Anna. I am the one who called.”

“That was in regards to Simon Riley, right? Let’s go through some information on my end to make sure that we can discuss him first okay?”

“Absolutely,” you slam the trunk closed and return your cart while confirming all of your information.

“So, what questions can I answer for you?��� Anna started.

“Let me get settled and I will give you the rundown.” Tossing your purse to the passenger side and locking the door you get situated in your seat. You push a large breath from your lungs and start. “Okay, so this is a weird situation. The long and the short of it is that Simon had been dating a friend of mine several years back and they were not good together. He was being a pushy asshole who refused to let the relationship die and she was codependent to a deeply unhealthy level. My friend asked for help in telling him off once and for all. She tended to cave and give into having sex every time he came by to start a fight. That is where I met Simon.”

Anna made a noise of confirmation. You took it as permission to keep telling your story.

“Nothing more came of that except my friend and I drifted apart, nothing major and not important to the story. I ran into Simon next at my friend’s wedding reception. I don’t know if he showed up to confirm to himself that it was really over or if she actually invited him but,” you paused here eyes tracing the dash of the car parked in front of you. With a slight shake of your head, you focus back on your phone call. “That is neither here nor there. He hit on me that night and I told him basically to fuck off and go to therapy if he wanted a shot at that conversation.”

Puffing your cheeks with air you slowly let it out, you felt like you were explaining a whole crazy situation to the principal.

“He ran into me at a coffee shop close to probably a year later, dropped your card on the table with his number on the back, and insinuated that I would call because I was interested in him.”

“Okay, that is pretty close to the story he told me as well,” Anna speaks with kind authority. “What I can tell you from a clinical standpoint is that Simon struggles with C-PTSD, which is complex post-traumatic stress disorder. This basically means that Simon has been through so many traumatic events at so many points in his life that he has a hard time functioning day to day without it affecting every aspect of his life. I can also tell you that we have been working on him gaining some coping abilities and practicing social skills.”

“Okay, I guess what I am asking is that if I go on a date with him will I end up with a stalker who will end up killing me in the night if I say I don’t want to see him again?” You lay your concerns bare. She’s not your therapist so her judgment worries you a bit less.

“While nothing is guaranteed,” she hedges, “I cannot see that kind of behavior occurring with the progress Simon has made. He has scheduled out appointments weekly for the next three months with me and has even mentioned he is working on some other types of therapy I have recommended to help him process his traumas further. He’s actually doing the work to deal with his issues. I think he is here because he wants to be, you happened to be the trigger.”

Resting your elbow on the steering wheel you leaned your head into your hand.

“Whew, okay. Thank you. That is actually really helpful. How is he about accepting boundaries?”

“He is familiar and comfortable with them in a work context but if you choose to interact with him I know personal boundaries will come up in our sessions. So, I would keep it in mind when interacting with him.”

“Okay, thank you so much Anna this call has been,” a slight pause, “Enlightening. I appreciate your time.”

“Happy to help. Have a good day!”

With that the phone call ends and you stare down at your phone. Flicking open your messaging app you add the contact you saved to it almost a month ago.

<Your therapist seems nice.

Three minutes pass as you watch the screen. It goes black once and you wake it with a tap on the screen.

Tossing it to the passenger side on top of your purse you put the text from your mind. You instead focus on pulling out of your spot. Parking lots are of the devil and you aren’t even religious like that.

Five days pass before a message dings on your phone from one S. Riley.

>Can’t say she is nice to me. I get a lot of mean looks from her.

Setting a timer for an hour and thirteen minutes you let the text simmer. You hope he can see that you have opened the message.

<You normally take a work week to respond?

>Only when I am on a job.

The reply comes in instantly.

<What kind of jobs keep you from your phone?

>Classified.

<Ooh big brain work then. Got it.

You snort at the eye roll emoji he sends.

>So, have you decided if I can hit you up yet?

<I’m thinking about it. If I were to say yes, where would you take me?

>Indoor sky diving.

You read the three-word message at least six times, check out the closest indoor sky diving place near you, and then finally reply.

Starting and erasing three messages you finally settle on one.

<Would we ride your bike there?

>Unless you would prefer to talk on the drive over?

What do you talk about with a man when you had to check with his therapist that he wouldn’t murder you?

<Bike sounds like fun.

>Saturday?

<Maybe. Time?

>2

<Done. Pick me up at noon and we can grab lunch?

>No, you’re going to want an empty stomach. Dinner instead.

Narrowing your eyes at the message you debate the logic of testing a boundary yet. The advice to not have a full stomach did look like a good one.

<Fine, but nowhere fancy. If I can’t roll up in the same outfit I don’t want it.

The only reply you get for several hours is a thumbs up on your message.

Guess you had a date coming up.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

i remember you mentioned Harry loves spending time with Diary bc of his connection with Voldemort (or i think so) but what about Voldemort in his head? does he loves it or not? i also think after death-and-rebirth he kinda feel more lighter and even sad about it

Like, it's canon Harry likes to just hold the diary becouse he feels drawn to it, even before knowing how it works:

Harry couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he didn’t just throw Riddle’s diary away. The fact was that even though he knew the diary was blank, he kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story he wanted to finish. And while Harry was sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he’d had when he was very small, and had half-forgotten. But this was absurd. He’d never had friends before Hogwarts, Dudley had made sure of that.

(CoS, Ch13)

That's an actual quote from the book.

Also, later on, Tom has to literally spell out that he's Voldemort because Harry was just completely unwilling to accept that his new BFF Tom who he might have a baby crush on is evil:

“Tom — Tom Riddle?” Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry’s face. “What d’you mean, she won’t wake?” Harry said desperately. “She’s not — she’s not — ?” “She’s still alive,” said Riddle. “But only just.” [...] “Are you a ghost?” Harry said uncertainly. “A memory,” said Riddle quietly. “Preserved in a diary for fifty years.” He pointed toward the floor near the statue’s giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry [...] For a second, Harry wondered how it had got there — but there were more pressing matters to deal with. “You’ve got to help me, Tom,” Harry said, raising Ginny’s head again. “We’ve got to get her out of here. There’s a basilisk . . . I don’t know where it is, but it could be along any moment. . . . Please, help me —” Riddle didn’t move. [...] But his wand had gone. “Did you see — ?” He looked up. Riddle was still watching him — twirling Harry’s wand between his long fingers. “Thanks,” said Harry, stretching out his hand for it. A smile curled the corners of Riddle’s mouth. He continued to stare at Harry, twirling the wand idly. “Listen,” said Harry urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny’s dead weight. “We’ve got to go! If the basilisk comes —” “It won’t come until it is called,” said Riddle calmly. [...] “What d’you mean?” he said. “Look, give me my wand, I might need it —” Riddle’s smile broadened. “You won’t be needing it,” he said. Harry stared at him. “What d’you mean, I won’t be — ?” “I’ve waited a long time for this, Harry Potter,” said Riddle. “For the chance to see you. To speak to you.” “Look,” said Harry, losing patience, “I don’t think you get it. We’re in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later —” “We’re going to talk now,” said Riddle, still smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry’s wand. Harry stared at him. There was something very funny going on here. . . .

(CoS, Ch17)

Like, it takes Harry forever to get to the realization something is wrong even though Tom steals his wand and says mysterious evil shit because Harry was so desperate to keep Tom as his friend.

I mentioned here, how Harry does like his mental connection to Voldemort in DH in a way because it gives him a sense of purpose.

Harry is the one to decide they should be wearing the locket after he sensed life from it:

“Can you feel it, though?” Ron asked in a hushed voice, as he held it tight in his clenched fist. “What d’you mean?” Ron passed the Horcrux to Harry. After a moment or two, Harry thought he knew what Ron meant. Was it his own blood pulsing through his veins that he could feel, or was it something beating inside the locket, like a tiny metal heart? “What are we going to do with it?” Hermione asked. “Keep it safe till we work out how to destroy it,” Harry replied, and, little though he wanted to, he hung the chain around his own neck, dropping the locket out of sight beneath his robes, where it rested against his chest beside the pouch Hagrid had given him.

(DH, Ch14)

He's also the one of the trio that insists they should be wearing the locket even after they learn of it's effects, while Hermione suggests that maybe they really shouldn't:

“Hmm,” said Hermione, looking down at the heavy gold locket. “Well, maybe we ought not to wear it. We can just keep it in the tent.” “We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around,” Harry stated firmly. “If we lose it, if it gets stolen — ”

(DH, Ch15)

Ron is also against wearing Horcruxes, while Harry didn't seem to mind keeping the cup in his pocket:

Harry pulled the Horcrux from the pocket of the wet jacket he had just taken off and set it down on the grass in front of them. Glinting in the sun, it drew their eyes as they swigged their bottles of juice. “At least we can’t wear it this time, that’d look a bit weird hanging around our necks,” said Ron, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

(DH, Ch27)

So, yeah, I think Harry definitely could feel his connection to Tom and the various Horcruxes.

I do think, once he comes back to life, he feels emptier, like a part of him is gone in a way. He'd feel lighter like a weight was taken off his shoulders, but I think he'd also feel off and aimless. I talked about it more here.

It's why I think Harry should've gone back for 8th year, I think getting his NEWTs and the familiar environment at Hogwarts would do him good after everything. Give my boy a break.

[dissapointu]

Drabbles: Arcane Characters with an ADHD and Restless S/O

Jinx

“Why are we just sitting here?” you whine, bouncing your leg so hard the table shakes.

Jinx laughs, popping a piece of candy into her mouth. “Because I’m thinking, duh. Gotta brainstorm the perfect chaos plan.”

You groan, standing to pace the room, your hands twitching at your sides. “I can’t just sit here. I need to do something.”

“Okay, okay, calm down, Spazzy,” Jinx teases, jumping up to grab a sketchpad. “Wanna help me draw up some schematics? You get to pick the colors.”

The offer immediately distracts you, and you perk up. “Yes!”

Jinx grins, ruffling your hair. “Knew that’d get you. Now come here and help me blow some minds—literally.”

Vi

Vi watches as you dart around the apartment, starting one task only to abandon it halfway through. Dishes in the sink, laundry on the couch, and a book left open on the coffee table.

“Babe,” she calls, “you wanna, I dunno, pick one thing?”

“I tried!” you shout, throwing your hands up. “But there’s so much to do, and my brain won’t focus, and—”

Vi strides over, wrapping her arms around you from behind. “Alright, let’s do it together,” she says, her chin resting on your shoulder. “One thing at a time. I’ll even race you.”

That catches your attention. “You’re on.”

“Good,” she says with a smirk. “Loser buys dinner.”

Sevika

Sevika’s brow furrows as she watches you tap your fingers against the bar counter, your restless energy practically vibrating off you.

“What’s got you wound up?” she asks, her voice steady and calm.

“I don’t know,” you admit, groaning. “I just feel like I need to move.”

Sevika gestures toward the corner of the bar where her punching bag hangs. “Go let it out on that.”

Your eyes light up, and you’re halfway there before turning back. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Sevika says with a smirk. “Better the bag than my patience.”

You laugh, already throwing punches at the bag. Behind you, Sevika watches, shaking her head fondly.

Silco

The sound of your pacing echoes in Silco’s office as he reviews documents. He doesn’t even look up, simply gesturing toward the empty chair across from him.

“Sit,” he commands softly.

“I can’t!” you exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. “I feel like I’m gonna crawl out of my skin.”

Silco sighs, finally setting his pen down. “Then come here.”

You hesitate but approach his desk. Silco pulls a small puzzle box from a drawer, sliding it toward you. “Something to occupy your hands,” he says.

You take it, your fingers immediately working at the intricate mechanisms. Silco smirks as the sound of your pacing fades.

Vander

Vander leans against the counter, watching you bounce from task to task in the bar. You wipe a table, straighten a chair, and then dart behind the counter to rearrange glasses.

“You ever stop?” he teases, his deep voice pulling you from your whirlwind.

You shrug. “If I stop, I might explode.”

He chuckles, grabbing your wrist gently. “Come here.”

Vander pulls you into a firm embrace, his arms grounding you. “Take a breath,” he says, his voice low. “You don’t have to do it all at once.”

You sigh, leaning into him. “Thanks, Vander.”

“Anytime, love,” he murmurs.

Ekko

Ekko grins as you bounce on your toes, your energy palpable. “You’re like a human hummingbird,” he jokes, tossing you a wrench.

“What’s this for?” you ask, catching it mid-air.

“Help me fix this bike,” he says. “Something to keep your hands busy.”

You beam, immediately diving into the task. Ekko works beside you, occasionally nudging you with his elbow. “You’re a natural at this,” he says, watching as you tighten a bolt.

The compliment makes you pause, a smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Ekko.”

“No problem,” he says with a wink. “Now let’s see if we can finish before sunset.”

Jayce

Jayce looks up from his blueprint as you pace the lab, your movements quick and erratic.

“Hey,” he calls, holding up a small gadget. “Wanna help me test this?”

Your eyes light up. “What is it?”

“A stabilization device,” he explains, handing it to you. “If it works, it should keep you steady. If not…”

You grin, already fiddling with the controls. “If not, it’ll be fun to watch me try.”

Jayce laughs, leaning back in his chair. “That’s the spirit.”

Viktor

Viktor glances up from his desk as you tap your foot relentlessly, the sound filling the quiet lab.

“Would you like to take a walk?” he asks, his voice gentle.

You blink at him. “What?”

“A walk,” he repeats. “You clearly need to move, and I could use the fresh air.”

You grin, practically dragging him toward the door. “You’re the best, Viktor.”

He chuckles, leaning on his cane as he follows. “I’ll remind you of that when you wear me out.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn sets her book down, watching as you fidget with the edge of your shirt. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, shifting in your seat. “I just feel… antsy.”

She stands, holding out her hand. “Come with me.”

You take it, letting her lead you to the kitchen. Caitlyn grabs a bag of flour and sets it on the counter. “We’re baking.”

Your confusion melts into excitement. “Really?”

“Really,” she says with a smile. “Something to keep you busy—and we get dessert out of it.”