#stretch skinny jeans

[jupiterpilgrim]

Right to Use

Wonyoung x Seulgi x Irene x Ningning x Male Reader

word count: 11K

commissioned fic

The airport is chaos. Fans scream, flashbulbs pop, bodies press against barriers, and you’re the immovable force that keeps Wonyoung and the rest of IVE untouchable. Your black suit stretches over your frame, custom-tailored to accommodate your towering height and sheer size. Even your presence alone is enough to make people think twice about stepping out of line. But today, none of that really matters because Wonyoung, fresh off a tour, is the epicenter of it all, and you're not even sure she realizes how effortlessly she commands attention.

She’s dressed in a deceptively casual outfit that still looks like it was made to drive people insane. A cropped hoodie, pale pink, with the hem cut just above her slim waist, showing off the flawless skin of her toned stomach. High-waisted, ripped skinny jeans hug her legs, emphasizing the length and subtle curve of her thighs. On her feet, white sneakers—clean, of course. Wonyoung doesn’t do anything halfway, not even casualwear. Her long, dark hair cascades over her shoulders, catching the airport lights like silk. Sunglasses cover most of her face, but not the smirk playing on her lips, subtle enough for everyone but you to miss.

The other members follow close behind, but the crowd noise isn’t quite the same for them. Wonyoung, as usual, owns the moment. She’s radiant, untouchable. But then, of course, her attention cuts through the chaos and lands on you. She doesn’t even need to say a word. A flick of her wrist, a sly grin—you know she’s up to something.

The group splits into vehicles after the airport chaos. The plan, as always, is to keep things orderly. Most of the group piles into a sleek black van, a fortress of tinted glass and soundproof insulation. Wonyoung is supposed to ride in her private car, a glossy white Benz with plush leather interiors, a driver at the ready. You’re assigned to the main group, of course, although your priority is actually Wonyoung, you have to pretend in front of the cameras that your work is dedicated to the whole group. But as you move toward your designated car, her voice—clear, sweet, unmistakably commanding—cuts through the air.

“Oppa. Come here.”

She’s leaning against the door of her Benz, her sunglasses lowered just enough to reveal her big, doll-like eyes. They flicker with mischief.

You hesitate. Rules are rules, and being in the same vehicle with her is pushing boundaries that you’re not supposed to cross, even for someone like her. “Ms. Jang,” you start, but she cuts you off with a tilt of her head and a raised eyebrow.

“Do I have to repeat myself?”

The way she says it isn’t loud, but it’s got that edge, that bratty little tone that says she knows exactly how much control she has over you—and she enjoys it.

Reluctantly, you move toward her car, sliding into the front passenger seat as the door shuts behind you. The air inside the vehicle feels different the moment you’re in it, charged, almost electric. The driver glances at you in the rearview mirror but doesn’t say anything; he knows better.

Wonyoung sits in the backseat, legs crossed, her phone in her lap. She doesn’t say much at first, just glances at you every so often, her lips curled into the smallest of smiles. You can feel her eyes on you, even when you’re not looking. It’s unnerving, the way she toys with you without even saying a word.

The city blurs by outside, neon signs and skyscrapers flashing through the tinted windows. She stretches her legs out lazily, her sneakers brushing against the back of your seat. “You’re quiet,” she says finally, her voice soft but teasing. “Something on your mind?”

“No,” you reply quickly, but you don’t look back at her. You can feel her smirking again.

“You’re a bad liar, oppa.”

The rest of the ride is tense, her presence looming behind you like a shadow. You’ve worked for her long enough to know when she’s scheming something, and tonight she’s practically radiating trouble. By the time you arrive at her apartment building, you’re desperate to put some distance between the two of you.

The car rolls to a stop in the underground garage, and you open the door, stepping out quickly. “Goodnight, Ms. Jang,” you say, keeping your tone professional.

But before you can turn to leave, you feel her hand on your arm. Her grip is surprisingly firm for someone so delicate-looking.

“Come inside,” she says, her voice low but insistent.

You glance around, paranoid that someone might see the two of you together. “Ms. Jang, I don’t think that’s—”

“I wasn’t asking,” she interrupts, her eyes locking onto yours. There’s no room for argument in her tone.

“Someone might see us,” you hiss, still trying to keep some semblance of professionalism.

“And? Let them,” she says with a shrug. Her fingers curl around your wrist, and she tugs you toward the elevator. Her strength isn’t enough to move you, not really, but the way she looks at you—like she’s daring you to disobey—makes your resolve falter.

The elevator ride is silent, the tension between you growing thicker with every floor you ascend. She stands close to you, closer than she needs to, her arm brushing against yours. You can smell her perfume, something floral and expensive, and it only adds to the strange energy buzzing in the air.

When the elevator doors slide open, she steps out first, her sneakers making soft thuds against the polished floor. She doesn’t look back to see if you’re following—she knows you are.

Inside the penthouse, the apartment is exactly what you’d expect: sleek, modern, and outrageously expensive. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the city, the lights twinkling like a sea of stars. She kicks off her sneakers near the door and pads barefoot across the marble floor, leaving you standing awkwardly near the entrance.

“You can relax, you know,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at you. “It’s just us.”

“That’s kind of the problem,” you mutter under your breath, but she hears you.

She laughs—a soft, melodic sound that somehow makes you even more uneasy. “You’re funny, oppa.”

She moves to the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. As she drinks, her eyes stay on you, the corners of her mouth twitching like she’s trying not to smile. You can tell she’s enjoying this—making you squirm, testing your limits.

“Go take a shower,” she says.

You hesitate, standing there like an idiot, unsure if you’re supposed to argue or just do as you’re told. Before you can decide, she sets the water bottle down with a soft clink and starts walking toward you. Her bare feet make no sound on the polished floor.

She stops just inches away, close enough that you can see the faint sheen of sweat on her skin, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath.

“Why are you so tense?” she asks, her voice soft but laced with that familiar teasing edge. Her hand reaches out, her fingers brushing lightly against your chest, the touch so light it’s almost maddening.

You swallow hard, your throat dry. “I’m not—”

“Liar,” she interrupts, her lips curling into that bratty smirk you know too well. Her hand lingers, her fingertips tracing a slow, deliberate line down your sternum. “Relax, oppa. It’s just us.”

Just us.

Like that makes it any less overwhelming.

—

The steaming water cascades over your shoulders, washing away the tension from the chaotic day. You’d followed Wonyoung’s orders begrudgingly—obedience had become second nature—but something about her tone earlier, that little twist of mischief in her voice, left you uneasy.

The faint sound of a door opening makes you freeze mid-rinse. You tilt your head, water streaming down your face, straining to hear. Voices. Feminine, light laughter filtering through the penthouse. It’s not just Wonyoung’s voice.

You turn off the shower, tension coiling in your gut. "Just us." Yeah, you should have known she was lying. Your eyes dart to the bathroom corner, where your clothes are neatly laid out—your suit jacket, shirt, tie, underwear and pants. You grab the white button-down shirt first, the fabric still slightly damp from the steam, and quickly pull it on, leaving it unbuttoned at the top. The underwear comes next, and then finally the pants. You step into them hastily, not bothering with the belt as you fasten the button and zipper.

You adjust the shirt, the damp fabric clinging to your skin, then you take a deep breath before stepping out of the bathroom. The tension in your chest doesn’t ease, but you push it down, bracing yourself for whatever—or whoever—is waiting for you outside.

The moment you round the corner into the living room, you stop dead in your tracks.

Sitting on Wonyoung’s couch, perched like queens on a throne, are three women you’d recognize anywhere. Ning Yizhuo, Irene Bae, and Kang Seulgi.

You’ve seen them before, of course—on stages, on magazine covers, in advertisements plastered across half of Seoul.

They’re not dressed like idols here. Ning wears a skin-tight black crop top that shows off her toned stomach, paired with the shortest pair of denim shorts you’ve ever seen. Irene is in a silky red slip dress that hugs her curves and ends scandalously high on her thighs, the thin straps showing off her delicate shoulders. Seulgi leans back lazily in a sleek leather skirt and a sheer white blouse, the lacy black bra underneath making no effort to hide itself.

And they’re all staring at you.

For a moment, no one speaks. Ning is the first to break the silence, her dark eyes raking over you before she whistles low. “Wow. You weren’t kidding, Wonyoung. He’s massive.”

Irene tilts her head slightly, her lips curving into a small, intrigued smile. “He looks even taller in person.”

Seulgi arches an eyebrow, her gaze sweeping over you appraisingly. “And broader.”

Wonyoung, sitting cross-legged in an oversized chair to the side, looks thoroughly pleased with herself. She’s still in her airport outfit, but now her hoodie is off, leaving her in just the cropped tank top beneath. Her bare midriff gleams under the soft light, and her legs are folded neatly beneath her, the picture of bratty satisfaction.

“I told you, didn’t I?” she says, her tone dripping with pride. “Oppa’s huge. Almost 6 feet 7 inches tall. Taller than anyone else on staff. Stronger, too.”

The way she says it, casual and deliberate, makes your stomach tighten. The girls aren’t just looking at you—they’re devouring you with their eyes. Hungry doesn’t even begin to cover it.

You clear your throat, trying to ignore the heat crawling up your neck. “What’s going on here?” you ask, your voice firm but cautious.

Wonyoung smiles innocently, though there’s nothing innocent about the way her fingers drum against the arm of her chair. “I told the girls about you,” she says simply.

“Told them what?”

“That my parents hired you as my personal bodyguard and that you must fulfill every one of my wishes. In other words, I've told them that you're mine.” she replies, her tone playful but undeniably possessive. “But I don’t mind sharing. Sometimes.”

Irene’s smile widens slightly, and she leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “You’re hers, huh?” she says, her voice smooth and teasing. “That explains a lot.”

“Like what?” you snap.

“Like why she kept talking about how we had to meet you,” Ning chimes in. She crosses her legs, one foot swinging idly in the air as her eyes trace the line of your shoulders down to your chest. “I thought she was exaggerating. But now I get it.”

Seulgi smirks, leaning back into the couch with a casual grace. “So, what’s the plan, Wonyoung? I'm quite excited.”

Wonyoung’s grin turns wicked. She leans back in her chair, her head tilting to one side as she regards you with a glint in her eye. “Tonight,” she says, “we’re going to have fun. We'll use and abuse my hot beefcake."

Your instincts scream at you to leave, to shut this down before it spirals into something you can’t control. But Wonyoung is watching you, her expression daring you to refuse her. She’s always been good at getting what she wants, and tonight, it’s clear she’s not taking no for an answer.

Wonyoung doesn’t waste a second. “Alright, let’s go,” she says with a casual authority, waving the others toward the bedroom. She strides past you, but not before delivering a sharp slap to your ass.

“Keep up, oppa,” she teases, her tone dripping with mockery.

Behind her, the other girls burst into laughter, their voices mingling in a chorus of amusement and anticipation. Ning hides her smile behind her hand, Irene smirks knowingly, and Seulgi outright grins.

You trail behind them, heart hammering in your chest as the tension in the air thickens with every step. They lead you to Wonyoung’s bedroom—a sprawling, luxurious space dominated by an enormous bed with plush white linens. Soft, golden light spills from a modern chandelier above, casting everything in a warm glow.

Wonyoung sits you down on the edge of the bed, her hands firm on your shoulders as she climbs into your lap. Her weight is featherlight, but the way she looks at you—her lips curling into a bratty smile, her dark eyes glittering with mischief—feels impossibly heavy.

“Alright, girls,” she says, turning her head slightly to address the others. “You can get started.”

There’s no hesitation. Irene is the first to move, her hands reaching for the thin straps of her dress. The silky fabric slides down her shoulders and pools at her feet, revealing delicate lace lingerie that clings to her petite frame. She moves with practiced grace, her confidence radiating from every step she takes closer to you.

Seulgi is next, unbuttoning her sheer blouse with quick, eager fingers. Her bra—simple but black and striking—contrasts beautifully with her smooth skin. Her leather skirt follows, dropping to reveal toned legs and a curve to her hips that makes your mouth dry.

Ning hesitates, her fingers toying nervously with the hem of her crop top. She glances at Wonyoung, who gives her a reassuring smile, before finally pulling it off. Her shorts follow shortly after, leaving her in pastel underwear that’s almost as shy as her expression. But there’s a flicker of curiosity in her eyes, a quiet hunger that draws her closer, step by step.

You sit frozen at first, unsure of how to react, but your body betrays you. As the girls strip, you feel your cock stir to life, growing harder with each layer of clothing that hits the floor.

Wonyoung notices immediately. Her lips curve into a satisfied smirk, and she shifts slightly on your lap, her hips brushing against the bulge straining in your pants. “Enjoying the show, oppa?” she asks, her tone teasing but unmistakably smug.

You hesitate, the words catching in your throat, but finally, you nod. “…Yeah.”

She laughs softly, leaning in until her lips are inches from yours. “Good. Because tonight, we’re going to use you until we’re satisfied.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, her mouth captures yours in a kiss. Her lips are soft but demanding, and she tastes faintly of sweet lip balm and something darker, more intoxicating.

As Wonyoung deepens the kiss, you feel hands on your shoulders, your chest, your arms. The other girls are closing in, their fingers exploring your muscles, tracing the lines of your skin like they can’t believe you’re real.

Irene’s touch is the most deliberate, her fingers trailing over your chest with an almost clinical precision, like she’s cataloging every ridge and dip. Seulgi’s hands are bolder, sliding over your biceps and squeezing as she lets out a low whistle. “Holy shit,” she murmurs. “How are you this big?”

Ning is more hesitant, her fingers brushing lightly over your forearm before retreating, only to return moments later, bolder each time. She doesn’t say anything, but the way her eyes dart over you betrays her curiosity.

Wonyoung shifts on your lap again, grinding against you just enough to make you groan softly into her mouth. She pulls back, her lips glossy and swollen, and looks down between the two of you, where your cock is straining painfully against your pants.

Her grin widens. “Looks like oppa’s ready for the real fun to start.”

She stands, slipping off your lap with a grace that leaves you breathless, and gestures for the other girls to gather around. They drop to their knees without a word, their eyes fixed on you with a mix of hunger and anticipation.

Wonyoung steps between them, her hands deftly moving to the button of your pants. She looks up at you, her eyes sparkling with amusement and something far darker. “Let’s see what you’re working with.”

Wonyoung doesn’t hesitate, her fingers deftly working at the waistband of your pants, she tugs the fabric down over your hips with an unhurried precision, the smooth motion somehow making the moment feel even more intense.

When the material pools around your ankles, you’re left standing there in nothing but your underwear. The girls’ eyes drop immediately, zeroing in on the absurd bulge pressing against the thin, strained fabric.

“Holy shit,” Seulgi breathes out first, her voice almost a whisper. Her dark eyes are wide, and she leans forward slightly, like she’s trying to get a better angle.

“That’s insane,” Ning mutters, her jaw practically hanging open. She bites her bottom lip, eyes darting from Wonyoung to your crotch as though needing confirmation that this isn’t some kind of elaborate joke.

Irene, ever composed, lifts an eyebrow and tilts her head, her gaze locked on the outline of your cock. A small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she murmurs, “Wonyoung, you didn’t tell us it was this impressive.”

Wonyoung doesn’t bother hiding her pride. Her lips curl into a smug, bratty grin as she looks up at you from her kneeling position. “Oh, I told you,” she says, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “You just didn’t believe me.”

Her fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, her touch light but deliberate. She pauses for a split second, letting the anticipation build before pulling them down slowly, like she’s unwrapping the world’s most tempting gift.

And then, it’s out.

The room goes utterly silent, save for the faint rustling of fabric as Wonyoung tosses your underwear aside along with your pants. The girls are frozen, their eyes glued to your cock as it springs free, standing tall and impossibly hard. Thick veins trace its length, accentuating the sheer size of it, and the head is already glistening faintly with precum.

“Jesus Christ,” Ning finally manages to choke out, her voice full of awe and disbelief.

Seulgi doesn’t even try to hide her reaction, letting out a low whistle as her gaze sweeps over you. “No wonder she’s been keeping you all to herself. That’s… I don’t even have words.”

“A little above 12 inches,” Wonyoung says smugly, standing and brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Told you it’s the biggest you’ve ever seen.”

“Biggest doesn’t even cover it,” Irene murmurs, her voice soft but tinged with something darker. Her eyes flick up to meet yours, and there’s an undeniable hunger in her gaze. “It’s perfect.”

Ning reaches out first, her fingers hovering hesitantly over your cock before finally brushing against it. The light, experimental touch sends a shiver up your spine, and you can’t help but let out a soft grunt.

“It’s so warm,” she says, more to herself than anyone else, her hand slowly wrapping around the base.

Irene moves in next, her movements slower but no less curious. She places her hand just above Ning’s, her touch more confident as she gently squeezes the shaft. “How do you even handle this, Wonyoung?” she asks, her tone equal parts amazed and envious.

Wonyoung just laughs, stepping back and folding her arms across her chest as she watches them. “It’s not easy, but I manage. I think practice makes perfect.”

Seulgi joins in, her fingers sliding up to the head. She swirls her thumb over the slick tip, collecting a bead of precum, and smirks as she examines it. “Practice makes perfect, huh? You’re damn lucky is what you are.”

“Damn right I am,” Wonyoung replies, her voice full of pride.

The girls take their time exploring you, their hands moving up and down your cock in slow, deliberate motions as they share it between them. Ning’s grip is firm but hesitant, her strokes experimental as though she’s still trying to wrap her head around the sheer size of you. Irene’s touch is more measured, her fingers tracing the veins with almost clinical precision. Seulgi, meanwhile, is bold and playful, her grip tightening slightly as she strokes you with a confidence that leaves your knees feeling weak.

Wonyoung watches it all with a satisfied smirk, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. “See what I mean?” she says, her tone smug. “I told you he’s perfect.”

“You weren’t kidding,” Ning says, her voice breathless as she gives you another experimental stroke. “This is… I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“None of us have,” Irene murmurs, her voice low as she tightens her grip slightly. Her gaze flicks up to yours, and for a moment, it feels like she’s staring straight into your soul. “Wonyoung, you weren’t lying. You’re incredibly lucky.”

“I know,” Wonyoung replies, her smirk widening.

Seulgi leans in closer, her breath warm against your skin as she runs her tongue along the length of your shaft. The sudden contact makes you groan, and she grins up at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And now you’re sharing him with us?” she asks Wonyoung, her tone teasing.

“Just for tonight,” Wonyoung says with a shrug, though the playful glint in her eye suggests she’s enjoying this far more than she’s letting on.

Seulgi chuckles, her lips brushing against your cock as she speaks. “Generous of you.”

The three of them work together in perfect, almost synchronized harmony. Ning focuses on the base, her small hands struggling to wrap around you as she strokes you slowly. Irene takes the middle, her movements deliberate and teasing, while Seulgi lavishes attention on the head, her tongue flicking over the sensitive tip before taking you into her mouth.

Wonyoung finally steps forward, brushing past the others to claim her spot. “Alright, girls, don’t forget who he belongs to,” she says.

The moment Wonyoung takes your cock in her mouth, the entire mood of the room shifts. Her lips wrap around you with a confidence that borders on arrogance, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks hard on the head, the warmth of her tongue swirling around it. She doesn’t even flinch at the sheer girth—if anything, she looks pleased, her doll-like eyes flicking up to meet yours with that same bratty.

But it’s not just her anymore. The other girls are right there, hands and mouths eager as they scramble to share whatever they can.

“Damn,” Seulgi mutters under her breath as she wraps a hand around your shaft, just beneath where Wonyoung’s lips are working. “Even with all of us, there’s still so much left.” Her tone is laced with awe, and she strokes the exposed length slowly, her fingers barely meeting as they encircle you.

“You’re telling me,” Ning chimes in, her voice muffled as she leans in to kiss and lick along the base of your cock. She presses her lips against the thick veins, her tongue darting out to trace them experimentally. “I can’t believe this thing’s real.”

Wonyoung pulls back briefly, a trail of saliva connecting her lips to your cock as she catches her breath. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smirking up at you before glancing over at the others. “You should see him when he’s cumming,” she says, her voice dripping with pride. “It’s insane. He’s like a fucking fountain. You’ll see for yourselves soon enough.”

Her words make Irene pause, her elegant features flushed with heat as she runs her hand slowly along the shaft. “A lot, huh?” she murmurs, almost to herself. Her thumb brushes over the tip, smearing the slick precum that’s already leaking from you. “I can’t even imagine.”

“You won’t have to,” Wonyoung replies, her smirk widening as she moves lower, her lips brushing against your heavy, swollen balls.

The shift in her attention catches you off guard. She cradles your balls in her hands, her thumbs kneading the sensitive skin as she presses gentle kisses against them. Her lips are soft, almost reverent, but the mischievous sparkle in her eyes betrays her true intentions. “God, oppa,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. “You’re so full. I bet you’ve been saving it all for me, haven’t you?”

Before you can respond, she opens her mouth wider, taking one of your balls into her mouth. The warmth and wetness make your knees buckle slightly, and you let out a deep groan as she sucks on it gently, her tongue swirling around it.

“Fuck,” Seulgi breathes out, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. “She’s not kidding. They’re huge.”

“They’re heavy, too,” Wonyoung says after releasing you with a wet pop, her voice smug as she cradles them in her hand. “You wouldn’t believe how much he can shoot.”

Ning lets out a quiet, breathless laugh, her eyes darting between your cock and Wonyoung’s hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this jealous of anyone in my life,” she mutters, her voice tinged with a mix of awe and arousal.

“Then stop talking and help,” Wonyoung says, her tone playful but commanding as she gives your balls one last lick before moving back to your shaft.

The girls obey without hesitation. Ning leans in first, her lips wrapping around the head as she tries to take you deeper. She chokes almost immediately, her throat constricting around the sheer size of you, but she doesn’t pull back. Instead, she presses forward, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she forces herself to swallow more.

“Easy,” Irene murmurs, placing a steadying hand on Ning’s shoulder. She’s kneeling beside her, her lips pressing against the exposed length just beneath where Ning’s mouth is working. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Ning gasps, pulling back just enough to catch her breath before diving back in. “I want it all.”

Her determination is clear, but even with her best efforts, she barely manages to take half of you before gagging again. The sound is lewd and wet, and drool begins to drip from the corners of her mouth, pooling at the base of your cock.

“Damn,” Seulgi says again, her voice tinged with admiration as she watches Ning struggle. “You’re really going for it, huh?”

“Of course she is,” Wonyoung says with a smirk. She reaches out, grabbing the base of your cock and guiding it away from Ning’s mouth. “But let’s not hog him, okay?”

She directs your cock toward Seulgi, who wastes no time. Her lips part, and she takes you into her mouth with surprising ease. But even she can’t handle your full length. She gets about halfway down before her throat tightens, and she has to pull back, coughing slightly.

“Shit,” she mutters, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her cheeks are flushed, and her breathing is heavy as she looks up at you. “That’s… That’s insane. How do you even fit this thing in anyone?”

Wonyoung laughs, her tone dripping with smugness. “It’s not easy,” she says, her hand stroking your cock lazily. “But once you get used to it… God, it’s worth it.”

The girls take turns, each of them eager to test their limits. Irene is the most graceful, her movements deliberate and controlled as she takes you into her mouth. But even she can’t swallow more than half before pulling back, her lips red and swollen as she gasps for air. Ning and Seulgi are less composed, their eyes watering and spit dripping down their chins as they choke and gag around your cock.

Through it all, Wonyoung keeps her focus on your balls. Her hands massage them gently, her thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles against the sensitive skin. Occasionally, she leans in to press soft kisses against them, her tongue darting out to lick along the seam.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you, oppa?” she says, her voice low and teasing as she looks up at you. “Having all of us drooling over your cock?”

You can’t help but let out a low, guttural groan in response.

Wonyoung’s lips curl into a sly grin as she looks around the room, her voice soft but commanding. “Alright, girls,” she says, running her fingers through her long, dark hair as she starts peeling off her tank top. “I think it’s about time we head to bed.”

She tosses the cropped fabric aside, revealing the full curve of her breasts beneath a lacy black bra. Her movements are slow, deliberate, as she unfastens her jeans and lets them slide down her impossibly long legs. She steps out of them with practiced grace, standing there in nothing but her matching bra and panties, the delicate material clinging to her hips like it was custom-made for her.

The other girls watch with barely contained excitement, their eyes flicking between Wonyoung and you, anticipation thick in the air. Wonyoung meets your gaze, her hands reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. The straps slide down her shoulders, and the bra falls away, revealing her flawless, perky breasts. She’s all confidence and control, completely in her element as she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pushes them down, leaving her bare before you.

“So,” she says, her tone playful as she turns to the other girls. “Who wants to go first?”

“I do,” Ning blurts out immediately, her cheeks flushing as she realizes how eager she sounds.

“No way,” Seulgi interjects with a grin, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve been waiting for this all night.”

Irene doesn’t say anything, but the way she shifts in place, her thighs pressing together, makes it clear that she’s just as ready as the others.

Wonyoung laughs softly, her bratty smile lighting up her face as she turns to you. “Well, oppa,” she says, stepping closer to you and running her fingers lightly down your chest. “Looks like you’re going to have to decide.”

You glance between the three of them, your heart pounding as they all look at you expectantly. Finally, your gaze lands on Irene. She’s sitting there, quiet but clearly eager, her delicate hands resting on her knees as she looks up at you with those piercing, almond-shaped eyes.

“Irene,” you say, your voice firm but gentle.

Her lips part slightly, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks as she nods and stands. The other girls groan in disappointment, but they don’t argue, instead settling on either side of the bed to watch. Ning takes a spot on Irene’s left, while Seulgi perches on her right, both of them leaning forward eagerly.

Irene steps closer to you, her hands trembling slightly as she reaches behind her to unhook her bra. The straps fall away, revealing her small, perfectly shaped breasts, the pale skin almost glowing under the soft light of the room. Her nipples are pink and already hard, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

You guide her onto the bed, her body soft and warm beneath your hands as she lies back against the pillows. She’s still wearing her panties, a delicate lace pair that clings to her hips, but the outline of her arousal is already visible through the thin fabric.

You finally take off your shirt before kneeling between her legs, your hands sliding up her thighs as you hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties. Irene lifts her hips slightly, allowing you to pull them down and toss them aside. The sight of her pussy makes your breath hitch—soft pink lips glistening with arousal, a neat triangle of pubic hair above them, perfectly groomed but natural.

“Beautiful,” you murmur.

Irene’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of red, and she bites her bottom lip, her hands clutching the sheets beneath her. “Please,” she says softly, her voice trembling. “Just… go slow, okay?”

“I’ll be careful,” you promise, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against her thigh.

Wonyoung is suddenly beside you, her hands roaming over your muscular back before sliding down to your ass. She gives it a firm squeeze, her nails digging lightly into your skin. “You better not keep me waiting too long, oppa,” she whispers, her breath warm against your ear.

You position yourself at Irene’s entrance, the head of your cock brushing against her folds and gathering the slick wetness there. Her body tenses slightly beneath you, and she lets out a soft gasp as you push forward, just the tip slipping inside her.

“Ahh…” Irene’s voice is breathless, her hands gripping the sheets tighter as her body adjusts to your size.

Her pussy is tight, impossibly so, and you take your time, pushing in slowly inch by inch. Each movement draws a new sound from her—a gasp, a moan, a sharp intake of breath—as her walls stretch to accommodate you.

“Fuck,” Seulgi murmurs from the side, her eyes glued to where your cock is disappearing into Irene. “Look at her… She’s taking it so well.”

Ning nods in agreement, her hand drifting up to cup one of Irene’s small breasts. She squeezes it gently, her thumb brushing over the hardened nipple as she leans in to kiss the soft skin there.

Irene arches her back slightly at the attention, a soft whimper escaping her lips as you sink deeper inside her. “It’s… so big,” she gasps, her voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and disbelief.

“I know,” Wonyoung says smugly, her hands still exploring your body. “That’s why he’s mine.”

You pause for a moment, letting Irene adjust to the feeling of being stretched so completely. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her breaths shallow as her body relaxes around you. Slowly, you begin to move again, pulling back slightly before pushing in deeper, each inch making her gasp louder.

“God,” Irene moans, her head falling back against the pillows as her legs wrap loosely around your hips. “You’re… you’re so deep…”

Ning and Seulgi continue to tease her, their hands roaming over her body as they kiss and lick at her sensitive skin. Ning focuses on her breasts, her lips wrapping around one nipple while her fingers pinch the other. Seulgi trails kisses down Irene’s neck, her teeth grazing lightly against the pale skin.

“Keep going,” Wonyoung whispers, her voice full of anticipation as she watches you. Her fingers dig into your ass again, urging you forward. “She can take it.”

You press forward until you’re half inside her, the tight heat of her pussy gripping you like a vice. Irene lets out a choked cry, her nails digging into your shoulders as her body trembles beneath you.

You lean down, your lips brushing against her ear as you whisper, “You’re so beautiful, Irene.”

Her only response is a broken moan, her eyes fluttering shut as you begin to move, slow and deliberate, each thrust drawing another gasp or moan from her lips. The girls on either side of her watch intently, their hands and mouths never leaving her body as the room fills with the sound of your movements and Irene’s pleasured cries.

And through it all, Wonyoung stays close, her touch constant as she whispers encouragement into your ear, her voice low and teasing. “That’s it, oppa,” she murmurs. “Show her what you can do.”

You thrust slowly, deliberately, only using a little more than half your cock, but even that feels like too much for Irene. Each time you push into her, her walls stretch around you like they’re made for it, molding to your size with a tightness that feels almost unbearable.

Her pussy clenches instinctively with every movement, struggling to take you as her slick heat coats your shaft, making the glide smooth yet impossibly intense. Irene's soft cries fill the room, her fingers gripping the sheets beside her as her body trembles beneath you.

“God,” she gasps, her voice breathless and high-pitched as she turns her head to the side, her dark hair spilling over the pillows. “You’re… you’re splitting me open…”

“Doesn’t she look beautiful, oppa?” Wonyoung’s voice cuts through Irene’s moans, playful and commanding. She’s watching everything, her lips curled into that signature bratty smirk. Without warning, she reaches out and slaps your ass—hard. The sting of it sends a jolt through you, and you grunt in response, your hips pushing forward just a little harder than before.

Irene lets out a sharp moan at the deeper thrust, her body jolting beneath you. “Ahh, fuck…!”

“That’s it,” Wonyoung teases, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Keep going. She can take it.”

Wonyoung moves across the bed with catlike grace, her long legs carrying her to Irene’s side. She climbs onto the bed and straddles Irene’s face, her knees pressing into the pillows as she settles herself over her.

“Open up,” Wonyoung says, her voice soft but commanding as she leans forward, her hands braced on the headboard. Her pussy hovers just above Irene’s lips, glistening and flushed with arousal. “I want to feel that tongue.”

Irene hesitates for only a moment, her eyes wide with a mix of nervousness and eagerness. Then, her lips part, and her tongue darts out tentatively, flicking over Wonyoung’s folds.

“Good girl,” Wonyoung purrs, rocking her hips slightly to press herself against Irene’s mouth. “Keep going. Don’t stop.”

Irene’s moans become muffled as she does her best to obey, her tongue moving more confidently now as she laps at Wonyoung’s pussy. Her hands move to Wonyoung’s thighs, gripping them tightly as she pulls her closer, her head tilting back slightly to get better access.

You watch the scene unfold, the sight of Wonyoung riding Irene’s face only fueling the heat coursing through your body. You can feel Irene tightening around you even more as she tries to focus on both sensations—the fullness of your cock stretching her and the taste of Wonyoung on her tongue.

“Fuck, oppa,” Wonyoung groans, her voice trembling slightly as she rolls her hips against Irene’s mouth. “She’s so eager. I think she likes it.”

“She does,” you murmur, your voice rough with arousal as you thrust into Irene slowly, each movement drawing a soft whimper from her lips that vibrates against Wonyoung’s pussy.

Ning leans over Irene’s side, her hands roaming over her chest as she kneads and squeezes her small breasts. She leans down, her lips wrapping around one of Irene’s nipples as she sucks gently, her tongue flicking over the hardened peak.

Seulgi takes the other side, her fingers tracing patterns along Irene’s stomach before dipping lower, brushing lightly over where your cock is buried inside her. She doesn’t touch you directly, but her fingers graze the spot where Irene’s pussy stretches around you, her touch teasing and exploratory.

“You’re so tight,” Seulgi murmurs, her voice full of admiration as she watches your cock slide in and out of Irene. “Look at how she’s taking you. It’s… fuck, it’s beautiful.”

Ning lifts her head from Irene’s chest, her lips glistening as she turns to Seulgi. “She’s perfect,” she agrees, her voice soft and breathless. Their eyes meet for a moment, a spark of shared excitement passing between them before Ning leans in and presses her lips to Seulgi’s.

Their kiss is slow and sensual, their tongues moving together as their hands continue to roam over Irene’s trembling body. It’s like they’re lost in their own world, their soft moans mingling with the wet sounds of your cock moving inside Irene and the muffled noises coming from Wonyoung’s pussy.

Irene’s moans grow louder, more frantic, her body arching beneath you as she struggles to keep up with everything happening to her. Her pussy clenches tightly around you, and her hips start to move instinctively, meeting your slow thrusts as if begging for more.

“She’s losing it,” Wonyoung says with a satisfied laugh, her hips grinding down harder against Irene’s mouth. “Keep going, oppa. Make her cum for me.”

You lean down, your hands gripping Irene’s hips firmly as you push into her just a little deeper, making her gasp and cry out beneath you. “You’re doing so well,” you murmur, your voice low and soothing. “Just let go, Irene. I’ll take care of you.”

Her eyes flutter open briefly, then, they squeeze shut again as another moan escapes her, muffled by Wonyoung’s pussy pressing harder against her face.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Wonyoung groans, her head falling back as she rocks her hips against Irene’s mouth. “Her tongue feels amazing.”

The room is a haze of heat and moans and wet, lewd sounds. Ning and Seulgi’s hands never stop moving, their fingers teasing and caressing Irene’s body as they kiss each other with an intensity that only adds to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

You keep your pace steady, your cock sliding in and out of Irene’s tight, dripping pussy, each thrust stretching her in ways she’s never experienced before. Her body shudders beneath you, her moans growing louder and more desperate as she gets closer and closer to the edge.

“Come on, oppa,” Wonyoung urges, her voice breathy and teasing as she looks over her shoulder at you. “Make her cum.”

You grip Irene’s hips tighter, your thrusts becoming just a little faster, a little deeper, as you push her closer to the brink. Her body trembles violently beneath you, and her muffled cries reach a fever pitch as her orgasm crashes over her.

Her pussy clenches around you like a vice, her entire body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure ripple through her. Wonyoung moans loudly as well, her movements becoming erratic as Irene’s moans vibrate against her clit, pushing her closer to her own release.

“Fuck, yes,” Wonyoung cries out, her head falling back as she grinds against Irene’s face.

Ning and Seulgi pull away from each other, their eyes fixed on Irene’s writhing form as they continue to stroke and caress her, their hands moving in perfect sync.

You slow your movements, letting Irene ride out her orgasm as her body relaxes beneath you, her chest heaving with each labored breath.

Wonyoung finally lifts herself off Irene’s face, her legs trembling slightly as she moves to sit beside you. “Not bad,” she says with a smirk, her fingers trailing over your arm.

The bed shifts as everyone moves, bodies brushing against each other in a haze of arousal and need. Seulgi wastes no time, standing and sliding her lingerie down her toned body in one smooth motion. Her black bra and matching thong hit the floor, revealing a figure carved by years of dance. Her athletic curves are taut, her thighs strong, her ass round and firm, framed perfectly as she kneels on the bed.

“It’s my turn now,” she says, her voice low and dripping with anticipation. She gets on all fours without hesitation, her back arching to present herself, ass high in the air and legs spread just enough to show her glistening pussy already wet and waiting.

“Damn,” Ning mutters, her eyes glued to Seulgi’s perfect form. She doesn't waste any time and also takes off her own lingerie, sitting directly in front of Seulgi, already spreading her legs to reveal her own slick folds. “Come here,” she adds with a smirk, her voice playful but commanding.

Seulgi doesn’t need to be told twice. She crawls forward on all fours, her face inches from Ning’s pussy. Her lips part as she leans in, her tongue darting out to tease along Ning’s folds before sucking lightly on her clit.

“Fuck,” Ning gasps, her fingers tangling in Seulgi’s hair as she pulls her closer. “That’s good. Just like that.”

Behind them, Wonyoung steps up, her eyes narrowing as she watches Seulgi’s ass sway with each movement. “Look at you,” she says. She reaches out and delivers a sharp slap to Seulgi’s ass, the sound echoing through the room. “You look like such a slut in this position.”

Seulgi moans against Ning’s pussy, the sound muffled but unmistakable. “Maybe I am,” she mumbles, her voice thick with arousal before diving back in, her tongue moving faster as Ning lets out a breathless laugh.

Wonyoung turns to you, her bratty smirk lighting up her face as she gestures toward Seulgi. “Go on, oppa,” she says. “She’s ready for you.”

But before you move, Irene is suddenly beside you, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm. Her lips are swollen, her face flushed, and there’s a softness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

You lean down, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. There’s a sweetness to it, but underneath that, you can taste the familiar tang of Wonyoung’s pussy, still fresh on Irene’s tongue.

“You okay?” you murmur against her lips, your voice low and filled with concern.

She nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. “More than okay,” she whispers. “A cock never made me cum so fast before.”

The sincerity in her voice makes your chest tighten slightly, but before you can say anything else, she presses another kiss to your lips before stepping back to let you focus on Seulgi.

Your attention shifts to her, the sight of Seulgi’s ass still high in the air, her pussy glistening and inviting. You kneel behind her, one hand gripping her hip as the other guides your cock to her entrance. Her wetness coats the head as you tease her, rubbing up and down her slit, your movements deliberate and slow.

Seulgi whimpers, her hips pressing back against you as she tries to take you inside. “Stop teasing,” she gasps, her voice desperate. “Just put it in already.”

You smirk, leaning over her slightly as you position yourself. “You sure?” you ask, your tone teasing. “I don’t want to break you.”

“Do it,” she snaps, her voice breathy and demanding.

You push forward slowly, the head of your cock slipping inside her tight, wet heat. Seulgi lets out a sharp gasp, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her as her body tenses.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, her voice trembling. “You’re so fucking big…”

Behind you, Wonyoung watches with gleeful satisfaction. She moves closer to Irene, their bodies aligning as she presses a soft kiss to Irene’s lips. The size difference between them is striking—Wonyoung’s long, slender frame towering over Irene’s petite figure, their contrast somehow making the moment even hotter.

Seulgi moans again as you push deeper, each inch of your cock stretching her further. Her pussy grips you tightly, the slick walls trembling around you as she struggles to take more. You pause halfway, letting her adjust as her breaths come in short, shallow gasps.

“You’re doing so well,” you murmur, your hands sliding up her sides to steady her.

She nods, her hair falling in messy waves around her face. “Keep going,” she whispers. “I can take it.”

You push forward again, the slow, deliberate movements drawing a mix of moans and gasps from Seulgi as your cock stretches her inch by inch. The pleasure is etched across her face, her lips parted and her brows furrowed as she rocks her hips back against you, desperate for more.

“Fuck,” Ning moans, watching from her position in front of Seulgi. Her legs are still spread, her pussy glistening as Seulgi continues to lick and suck at her clit. “She’s so good with her mouth. I don’t know how she’s even concentrating.”

“Because she’s a slut,” Wonyoung teases, her voice light and mocking as she pulls Irene closer, their lips meeting in another heated kiss. Her hands roam over Irene’s small frame, her fingers trailing down her sides and cupping her breasts as their tongues intertwine.

The sight only spurs you on, your hips pressing forward until you’re buried fully inside Seulgi. She cries out, her entire body trembling as she clutches the sheets beneath her. “Oh my god,” she gasps, her voice breaking. “You’re… you’re fucking huge. It’s too much…”

“You’re taking it so well,” you murmur, your hands gripping her hips tightly as you begin to move, slow and steady.

Each thrust draws a moan from her lips, the mixture of pain and pleasure etched across her face as her body rocks beneath you. Ning tangles her fingers in Seulgi’s hair, pulling her closer as she grinds against her mouth, her own moans growing louder with each flick of Seulgi’s tongue.

Behind you, Wonyoung and Irene are lost in their own world, their kisses deep and passionate as Wonyoung’s hands explore every inch of Irene’s body. Wonyoung’s long fingers tracing delicate patterns over Irene’s pale skin as their breaths mingle.

The room is filled with the sounds of pleasure—moans, gasps, the wet slap of your cock sliding into Seulgi’s tight pussy. Her body trembles with every thrust, her voice breaking into desperate cries as she tries to meet your movements.

“You love this, don’t you?” you whisper, your voice low and teasing as you lean over her.

“Yes,” she gasps, her nails digging into the sheets. “Fuck, yes. Don’t stop.”

And so you don’t, your pace slow but steady, each movement deliberate as you drive her closer to the edge. Wonyoung’s laughter rings out from beside you, her voice full of satisfaction as she watches Seulgi fall apart beneath you.

“You look so good like this,” Wonyoung murmurs, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Keep going, oppa. Slap that slut. Make her scream.”

You do as she says, the sharp crack of your palm against Seulgi’s ass reverberates through the room, the flushed imprint of your hand blooming across her skin. She arches her back with a guttural moan, her hips stuttering backward to meet your next thrust—deeper, harder, the pace unrelenting now. Her pussy clenches like a vice around your cock, slick walls trembling as she struggles to adjust to the brutal rhythm.

“F-fuck!” she chokes out, her voice breaking as you bottom out inside her, the thick base of your shaft stretching her to the limit. Drool drips from her lips onto the sheets below, her face still buried between Ning’s thighs, though her tongue falters, too overwhelmed to keep pace.

Ning giggles breathlessly, her fingers tightening in Seulgi’s hair. “Getting distracted, unnie?” she teases, grinding her hips forward to force Seulgi’s mouth back against her clit. But Seulgi’s response is a muffled whimper, her body jerking as you slap her ass again, the sound sharp and possessive.

“Louder,” Wonyoung demands from across the bed, her voice honeyed and cruel. She’s sprawled beside Irene, their limbs tangled as Irene’s slender fingers work between Wonyoung’s thighs, stroking her pussy with practiced precision. Wonyoung’s head tilts back, her lips parted in a moan, but her eyes stay locked on you—dark, commanding, hungry. “Make her scream. Ruin her.”

You obey, your hips pistoning faster, each thrust punching a ragged cry from Seulgi’s throat. Her knuckles bleach white where she grips the sheets, her ass reddening under the force of your strikes.

“Y-you’re—ah!—splitting me open—” Seulgi gasps, her words dissolving into a shattered moan as you angle your cock upward, grinding against her g-spot with deliberate cruelty. Her thighs quiver, her body taut as a bowstring, but you slow just enough to deny her release, drawing a frustrated sob from her lips.

Irene watches, her breath hitching as Wonyoung arches beneath her touch. “Look at her,” Irene murmurs, her voice husky with arousal. “She’s unraveling.”

Wonyoung’s laugh is low, wicked. “And she’s still not even close.” She grabs Irene’s wrist, guiding her fingers deeper, harder. “Keep going. I want to watch her break first.”

Ning, meanwhile, rocks her hips faster against Seulgi’s mouth, her moans pitching higher. “Come on, unnie,” she taunts, her voice trembling. “You can take it, right?” But Seulgi’s only response is a broken whine, her eyes squeezed shut as you dominate her, her body reduced to a quivering, sweating mess beneath you.

The air reeks of sex and salt, the heat suffocating. You lean over Seulgi’s back, your breath hot against her ear. “You wanted this,” you growl, punctuating the words with another slap, another brutal thrust. “Begging for it like a slut.”

“Yes—” she sobs, her voice raw. “Y-yes, please—!”

Ning cums first, her back arching as she grinds down on Seulgi’s tongue, her cries sharp and sweet. Seulgi tries to focus, her mouth working desperately, but another deep thrust from you shatters her concentration, leaving her gasping, drooling, ruined.

Wonyoung’s smirk is triumphant. “Good girl,” she purrs, though it’s unclear who she’s praising—Seulgi or Ning. Her own hips roll against Irene’s hand, her breath catching. “Now… harder.”

You give Seulgi exactly that.

Seulgi’s entire body locks up like a live wire, back arched so hard it looks like it might snap. “Oppa—I’m—I’m gonna—!” Her scream cracks into a shrill, broken wail as her pussy vises around your cock, clenching in ragged pulses that feel like she’s trying to milk you dry. Tears streak her flushed cheeks, her ass still jolting red from your slaps as she grinds back against you, desperate. “Fuck—fuck—fuck—!”

You drill into her faster, harder, the wet slap of your hips against her ass drowning out her cries. Her thighs tremble, her knees buckling until she’s collapsed onto the bed, face mashed into the sheets. But you don’t stop—not until her screams dissolve into choked, hiccupping sobs, her nails clawing at the mattress. “There it is,” you grunt, feeling her walls flutter wildly, sucking you deeper like she’s trying to claim you. “C’mon, ruin the sheets, princess.”

She cums like a fucking avalanche—back bowing, toes curling, her pussy drowning you in slick as she thrashes. “Ngh—ah! AH!” Her voice shreds raw, every muscle in her body seizing before she goes limp, gasping like she’s been punched.

You rip your cock out just as the first thick ropes of cum surge from your balls, splattering hot across her lower back. It’s not an orgasm—just a relentless leak, your swollen sac emptying itself in messy, pearly streaks that drip down her ass. “Shit,” Seulgi whimpers, twitching as the warmth coats her skin. “S’so… much…”

Wonyoung’s already there, fingers dragging through the mess on Seulgi’s back. She licks her fingertips slowly, eyes locked on yours, that bratty smirk plastered on her face. “So good,” she purrs, before shoving her cum-smeared hand against Irene’s mouth. “Try it.” Irene hesitates, then laps at it obediently, her tongue swirling around Wonyoung’s fingers with a soft, approving hum. “Addicting,” she murmurs, lips glistening.

Ning slowly gets out of bed, biting her lip hard enough to bruise. You catch her eye, patting the chair beside the bed. “C’mere,” you say, voice softer now. “You’re up.”

She freezes, then nods, shaky as a fawn. She climbs into your lap, her thighs bracketing yours. “Slow,” you remind her, hands gripping her hips as she lines herself up. Her pussy glistens, already dripping, but her breath hitches when the head of your cock brushes her entrance. “I-I can’t—”

“Yes you can,” Wonyoung snaps from across the room. “Stop being a baby.”

You shoot her a glare, but Ning’s already sinking down, inch by torturous inch. Her face screws up, tears welling as she bottoms out—halfway, her tight little cunt stretching obscenely around your shaft. “Fuck,” she whimpers, nails digging into your shoulders. “It’s—too much—”

“Breathe,” you murmur, thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re doing good.”

She nods, shaky, her hips trembling as she grinds in tiny circles, trying to adjust. The stretch is written all over her face—pain, fear, but underneath it, want. Her pussy flutters, sucking you deeper like it’s begging for more.

Wonyoung rolls her eyes. “Boring. Just shove her dow—”

“Shut up,” you growl, cutting her off. Ning’s eyes widen, but there’s a flicker of gratitude there before she buries her face in your neck, her breath hot against your skin.

“I… I wanna try,” she whispers, voice trembling.

You nod, hands steady on her hips. “Whenever you’re ready.”

She lifts herself slightly—just an inch—before sinking back down with a sharp gasp. “Ah!” Her thighs shake, her cunt clenching like a fist. “I-I can’t… more—”

“You’re fine,” you reassure her, but she’s already grinding harder, chasing the friction, her moans pitching higher.

Ning’s hips stutter as she grinds down, her tiny cunt swallowing another inch of your cock with a wet squelch. Tears cling to her lashes, her breath hitching in sharp, broken gasps. “H-hurts,” she whines, her fingers digging into your shoulders like she’s clinging to a cliff edge. But her hips don’t stop—small, desperate circles that drag her clit against the base of your shaft, her pussy fluttering like a heartbeat around you.

“You’re doing it,” Seulgi rasps from the bed, sprawled on her back with her legs spread. Wonyoung already has a vibrator in her hands, buzzing against Seulgi's clit, making her jerk and curse. “Fuck—fuck—look at her go, Ning! Take that dick like a good girl—”

Irene moans softly beside her, back arched as Wonyoung takes the vibrator to her pussy in torturous circles over her slit. “So… tight,” Irene murmurs, her usually composed voice fraying. Her eyes stay locked on Ning, watching the way her petite body strains to accommodate you. “You can… ah… handle more, can’t you?”

Wonyoung smirks, but there’s a flicker of something softer in her gaze as she watches Ning struggle. “Ease up, Ning,” she says, her tone less biting than usual. The vibrator dips lower, pressing against Irene’s asshole, drawing a sharp gasp. “You don’t wanna rip, do you?”

Ning shakes her head frantically, her dark hair sticking to her sweaty neck. “N-no—I’m t-trying—” She sinks down another fraction, her cunt stretching obscenely around your girth. A high-pitched whine escapes her lips, her thighs trembling violently. “O-oppa—it’s too big—”

“You’re lying,” Seulgi growls, her hips bucking against the vibrator. “Your pussy’s dripping, you little liar—fuck!” Wonyoung shoves the toy harder against her, silencing her with a choked cry.

You grip Ning’s waist, thumbs brushing the jut of her hipbones. “Breathe,” you murmur, voice rough but steady. “You’re in control. Go slow.”

She nods, sucking in a shaky breath before lifting herself—just an inch—and sinking back down. This time, she takes more, her tight walls squeezing like a fist as she chokes out a sob. “Ah! Ah—!” Her clit grinds against you, the friction wringing a sudden, startled moan from her throat. “F-fuck—!”

“There it is,” Wonyoung mutters, her smirk gentler now. She drags the vibrator back to Irene’s clit, watching Ning’s face crumple with a mix of pain and dawning pleasure. “See? Not so bad, right?”

Ning doesn’t answer, too focused on the brutal stretch, her hips rolling in jerky, unsteady motions. Drool drips from her parted lips as she bottoms out—three-quarters of your cock buried inside her—and freezes, her entire body trembling. “C-can’t,” she whimpers, voice cracking. “I’ll—break—”

“You won’t,” you assure her, hands steadying her hips. “Look at you. Taking it.”

Seulgi laughs breathlessly, her own thighs quivering as the vibrator pushes her closer to the edge again. “C’mon, Ning-ah—beg for it! Tell him you need it—”

“Shut up,” Ning snaps, her brattiness flaring through the tears. But the defiance doesn’t last—your cock shifts inside her, brushing a spot that makes her jolt. “Ah! F-fuck—there—!”

Irene’s breath hitches, her fingers tangling in the sheets. “She’s… close,” she murmurs. Wonyoung’s free hand slides up Irene’s thigh, pinching her nipple hard enough to make her yelp.

“Focus,” Wonyoung chides, but her eyes stay on Ning, watching the way her small body writhes, her cunt glistening around your shaft. “You’re doing good, Ning. Little more.”

Ning sobs, her hips finally finding a rhythm—shallow, frantic bounces that drag her clit against you with every thrust. “O-oppa—please—!” Her voice cracks, her walls fluttering wildly as pleasure starts to overtake the pain. “I—I need—!”

“Need what?” you growl, gripping her hips tighter.

“Y-you—” she chokes out, her face burning crimson. “All of you—please—!”

The room holds its breath as you guide her down—deeper—until her ass meets your thighs, your cock fully sheathed inside her. Ning’s scream is raw, shattered, her nails scratching as she claws at your shoulders. “FULL—!”

Seulgi cackles, half-hysterical, as the vibrator wrings another broken moan from her. “Holy shit—she did it—!”

Wonyoung’s smirk returns, but there’s pride there too. “Told you,” she says, her voice oddly tender. “Now… move.”

Ning does—slow, grinding rolls of her hips that make her whimper with every shift. “S’too much,” she slurs, her voice wrecked. “B-but… good… s’good…”

Irene watches, transfixed, her own hips rolling against the vibrator. “Beautiful,” she breathes, her usual poise crumbling.

Wonyoung leans in, her lips brushing Irene’s ear. “Patience,” she murmurs. “This is just… the start.”

Then, she shoves the vibrator deep into Irene’s pussy with a sharp thrust, making Irene’s back arch off the bed as she lets out a strangled cry. “Fuck—!” Irene’s hands fly to Wonyoung’s wrist, her nails digging in as the toy buzzes relentlessly inside her. Wonyoung’s other hand is already working Seulgi, two fingers plunging into her soaked pussy while her thumb grinds hard against her clit. Seulgi’s head falls back, her moans guttural and raw, her hips bucking wildly against Wonyoung’s hand.

“Fuck her harder,” Wonyoung growls, her eyes locked on you and Ning. “Don’t let her breathe.”

Ning’s still grinding on your lap, her tiny body trembling as she tries to keep up with the rhythm. Her pace is slow, torturous, her cunt clenching around your cock like she’s trying to milk you dry. Her face is flushed, tears streaking her cheeks as she whimpers, “O-oppa—it’s so big—I can’t—”

“You can,” you growl, your hands gripping her hips tighter. “Look at you. Taking it like a fucking slut.”

Ning’s eyes widen, her lips parting in a shocked gasp, but the words seem to ignite something in her. Her hips roll faster, her cunt squeezing around you as she moans, “Y-you feel so good—ah!—I-I can’t—stop—”

But it’s still not enough. The slow, teasing pace is driving you insane, and you can’t take it anymore. Without warning, you stand up, lifting Ning off the chair like she weighs nothing. Her legs instinctively wrap around your waist, her arms clinging to your shoulders as she lets out a startled scream. “O-oppa—!”

The girls freeze for a split second, their eyes widening as they take in the sight. You’re towering over them, your massive frame dwarfing Ning’s petite body. The difference is brutal—you’re almost two meters tall, and Ning barely reaches your chest. Her tiny legs dangle helplessly, her cunt stretched obscenely around your cock as you hold her in the air.

“Holy shit,” Seulgi breathes, her voice trembling with awe. “Look at her—fuck—”

Wonyoung’s smirk is back, her fingers still working Seulgi’s pussy as she watches you with dark, hungry eyes. “Finally,” she purrs, her voice dripping with approval. “Ruin her.”

Your hips snap forward, driving your cock deeper into Ning’s tight, trembling cunt. She lets out a shattered scream, her nails digging into your shoulders as her body jerks violently. “AH! O-OPPA—!”

“That’s it,” Wonyoung hisses, her voice rising with excitement. “Fuck her—make her scream!”

Irene’s moans join the chorus, her hips grinding against the vibrator as she watches you dominate Ning. “God—she’s so small—” she gasps, her voice breaking. “Ruin her—please—”

Seulgi’s not far behind, her thighs quivering as Wonyoung’s fingers work her over. “Fuck—look at her—fuck her harder—!”

Ning’s screams are your fuel, her tiny body bouncing helplessly in your grip as you pound into her. Her cunt is dripping, her walls fluttering wildly as she clings to you, her voice cracking with every thrust. “AH! AH! AH!”

“You like that?” you growl, your voice rough and demanding. “Being used like a fucking toy?”

Ning nods frantically, her face buried in your neck as she sobs, “Y-yes—yes—please—more—!”

Her legs shake violently, her cunt clenching like a vice as she gets closer and closer to the edge. “I’m—I’m gonna cum—!” she screams, her voice raw and broken.

“Do it,” Wonyoung commands, her voice sharp and unyielding. “Cum on his cock—show us—”

Ning's orgasm makes her scream echo throughout the entire room. Her back arches, her entire body locking up as she squirts, her cunt gushing around your cock. The sound is obscene—wet, messy, relentless—as her juices drip down your thighs. “AHHH!” she wails, her voice shattering as her walls milk you, her tiny body convulsing in your grip.

The girls watch in stunned silence, their own moans forgotten as they take in the sight. Even Wonyoung looks momentarily speechless, her fingers stilling inside Seulgi as she stares at Ning’s trembling form.

You can’t hold back anymore. The pressure in your balls is too much, and with a low growl, you release another leak. Thick ropes of cum surge into Ning’s tight, fluttering cunt, filling her to the brim as she whimpers, “O-oppa—s’so hot—ah!”

Ning’s legs give out, her body going limp as you lower her to the ground. She collapses onto the bed, her chest heaving as she stares up at you with dazed, glassy eyes. “T-thank you,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

Wonyoung’s smirk returns, her fingers slowly leaving Seulgi's pussy, her other hand turning off the vibrator “Good girl,” she purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Now it's finally my turn.”

Ning’s trembling legs shift slightly as she scoots higher on the bed, her body still quivering from the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her thighs part instinctively, her glistening pussy on full display, your cum still leaking out of her. Seulgi doesn’t waste a second. She crawls over, her eyes locked on Ning’s messy cunt, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

“Let me clean you up, Ning,” Seulgi purrs, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. She doesn’t wait for permission, her tongue darting out to lick a long, slow stripe up Ning’s slit. Ning gasps, her back arching off the bed as Seulgi’s tongue swirls around her sensitive clit, lapping up your cum with a lewd suck.

“Ah! S-Seulgi—!” Ning whimpers, her hands flying to Seulgi’s hair, tangling in the dark strands as Seulgi buries her face deeper. “F-fuck—that’s—too much—”

Seulgi pulls back just enough to smirk up at her, her lips glistening. “Too much?” she teases, her breath hot against Ning’s pussy. “You were just screaming for more a second ago.” She dives back in, her tongue plunging into Ning’s tight hole, licking up every drop of cum as Ning writhes beneath her.

The sight is obscene—Ning’s tiny body trembling, her legs spread wide as Seulgi devours her, your cum smeared across her lips. Your cock twitches, still hard and aching, as you watch Seulgi work her over.

Wonyoung clears her throat, her bratty smirk firmly in place as she sprawls out on the bed, her long legs spread invitingly. “Finally,” she drawls, her voice dripping with impatience. “My turn. And don’t hold back, oppa. You know I can take it.”

Irene and Seulgi exchange a glance before moving to either side of Wonyoung, their hands already roaming over her flawless body. Irene leans down, capturing Wonyoung’s lips in a deep, hungry kiss, while Seulgi’s mouth latches onto one of Wonyoung’s perky breasts, her tongue swirling around the hardened nipple.

“Fuck,” Wonyoung moans, her head falling back against the pillows as Irene’s hand slips between her thighs, teasing her already wet pussy. “Finally some attention.”

You position yourself between Wonyoung’s legs, your cock throbbing as you line up with her entrance. She’s dripping, her pussy glistening with arousal as she looks up at you with those dark, commanding eyes. “Go on,” she taunts, her voice low and teasing. “Ruin me. I'm not fragile like Ning, the crybaby.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Your hips snap forward, driving your cock into her in one brutal thrust. Wonyoung’s back arches, a sharp gasp tearing from her lips as she takes every inch of you. “Fuck—yes—” she moans, her nails digging into the sheets.

You set a rough, relentless pace, your hips slamming into hers with enough force to make the bed shake. Wonyoung’s moans are loud, unrestrained, her bratty facade crumbling as you fuck her senseless. “Harder,” she demands, her voice trembling. “Fucking—harder—”

Irene’s lips trail down Wonyoung’s neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin as her fingers pinch and twist Wonyoung’s other nipple. Seulgi's hands slide down her tummy, placing soft kisses.

“God—you’re so tight,” you growl, your hands gripping Wonyoung’s hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Fucking—take it—”

Wonyoung’s head thrashes against the pillows, her moans climbing higher as you pound into her. “Yes—yes—fuck—!”

Ning, still trembling from her own orgasm, watches Wonyoung with wide, mischievous eyes. Her hand reaches for the forgotten vibrator, her fingers curling around it as she flicks it on with a soft buzz. The sound is low but unmistakable, and Wonyoung’s head snaps toward her, her dark eyes narrowing.

“Ning,” Wonyoung growls, her voice sharp and warning. “Don’t you dare—”

But Ning’s already crawling closer, her lips curling into a wicked grin as she presses the vibrator against Wonyoung’s clit. The sudden buzz makes Wonyoung jolt violently, her back arching off the bed as a sharp, guttural scream tears from her throat.

“FUCK!” Wonyoung screams, her body thrashing as the vibrator sends shockwaves of pleasure through her. “Ning—! STOP!”

Irene and Seulgi are quick to react, their hands pinning Wonyoung’s wrists to the bed as she squirms beneath them. Irene’s grip is firm, her nails digging into Wonyoung’s delicate skin as she leans down, her lips brushing against Wonyoung’s ear.

“Hold still,” Irene murmurs, her voice low and commanding. “Take it.”

Seulgi grins, her teeth grazing Wonyoung’s nipple as she adds, “You wanted it rough. Don’t complain now.”

Wonyoung’s screams pitch higher, raw and ragged, as you jackhammer into her, your cock splitting her oversensitive pussy wide. Her thighs quiver, her hips jerking wildly, but Irene and Seulgi’s grip is ironclad—nails digging into her wrists. “S-stop—fuck—I said STOP—!” she shrieks, her bratty bravado crumbling into desperate, tear-soaked pleas.

Ning doesn’t flinch. Her fingers press the buzzing vibrator harder against Wonyoung’s swollen clit, her other hand slapping Wonyoung’s inner thigh. “Make me,” she sneers. “You love this, Wonyoung. Look at your fucking pussy—dripping like a slut.”

Wonyoung’s head thrashes, her back arching off the bed as you slam into her cervix, the slap of your hips against her ass echoing through the room. “N-no—ah! AH!” Her protests dissolve into garbled moans, her cunt clenching around you in violent spasms. “T-too much—plea—SE—”

“Shut up,” you growl. “You begged for this. Take it.”

Irene’s laugh is low, dangerous, as she twists Wonyoung’s nipple sharply. “Crying already? You’re pathetic.”

Seulgi joins in, her teeth sinking into Wonyoung’s shoulder as she purrs, “Scream louder. Let the whole building hear how much of a whore you are.”

Wonyoung’s orgasm detonates without warning. Her body snaps taut, a guttural wail tearing from her throat as her pussy gushes, squirting across the sheets in a filthy, soaking wave. “F-FUCK—I’M CUMMING—STOP—!”

Ning slaps her clit with the vibrator, the buzz cranked to max. “Cum again,” she demands, her voice icy. “Now.”

Wonyoung sobs, her hips bucking uncontrollably as a second orgasm rips through her, her cunt milking your cock in frantic pulses. “AHHH! P-PLEASE—MERCY—!”

“Mercy?” you mock, slamming into her harder, your balls slapping her ass. “You don’t deserve mercy.” You yank your cock out suddenly, leaving her gaping, and drive it back in—upward—the head grinding brutally against her clit.

Wonyoung screeches, her body bowing off the bed, her nails clawing at Irene and Seulgi’s arms. “NO—NO—AH! AH!”

Ning leans in, her lips curling into a vicious smile. “Slut,” she whispers, before spitting in Wonyoung’s face.

The insult tips her over. Wonyoung’s third orgasm is violent—her pussy squirting again, her screams dissolving into choked, hiccupping wails as her body convulses, utterly wrecked. You fuck her through it, your thrusts relentless, until her eyes roll back and she goes limp, her chest heaving, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

Irene releases Wonyoung’s wrist to trail a finger through the mess on the sheets. “Look at this,” she murmurs, licking her finger clean with a smirk. “You’re ruined, Wonyoung.”

Seulgi laughs, finally releasing her grip. “Look at her—can’t even speak.”

You pull out with a wet pop, your cock glistening with her cum. Wonyoung’s pussy twitches, still pulsing weakly, as she stares blankly at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths.

Ning drops the vibrator onto Wonyoung’s stomach, her voice sweetly mocking. “Aw, did we break you?”

Wonyoung’s lips part, but all that comes out is a broken whimper. She lies sprawled on the bed, her chest heaving, her body still trembling from the relentless pounding you gave her. Her legs are splayed wide, her pussy glistening and swollen, a mess of cum and slick dripping down her thighs. Her eyes are half-lidded, her lips parted as she tries to catch her breath. You stand over her, your cock still rock-hard, throbbing with need. Your hand strokes it slowly, the pre-cum leaking from the tip smearing over your fingers as you let out a low groan.

“Close,” you mutter, your voice rough and strained. “Fuck—I’m so close.”

The words are like a trigger. Irene, Seulgi, and Ning immediately drop to their knees around you, their eyes locked on your cock with a mix of hunger and desperation. Their lips are swollen, their skin flushed and glistening with sweat, their hair messy and sticking to their faces. They look ruined—completely wrecked by your cock—And it's fucking beautiful.

Ning glances over at Wonyoung, who’s still lying limp on the bed, and smirks. “Wonyoungie,” she calls, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Aren’t you joining us? Or are you too tired?”

Wonyoung groans, her head lolling to the side as she glares at Ning through half-lidded eyes. “Shut up,” she mutters, her voice hoarse. “I’m coming. Just… give me a second.”

The girls don’t wait for her. Seulgi is the first to lean in, her lips wrapping around the head of your cock as she sucks hard, her tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. “Fuck,” you groan, your hand tangling in her hair as she takes you deeper, her throat constricting around your girth.

Irene’s hands join in, her fingers stroking the base of your shaft as she leans in to kiss and lick along the length. “So thick,” she murmurs, her voice trembling with awe.

Ning doesn’t say anything, her small hands gripping your thighs as she presses her lips to the side of your cock, kissing and sucking at the thick veins that run along the shaft. Her tongue flicks out, teasing the sensitive skin as she moans softly, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

The sight of them—idol royalty, kneeling at your feet, their faces flushed and their bodies trembling—is almost too much to handle. Your cock twitches in Seulgi’s mouth, your balls tightening as you fight to hold back.

Wonyoung finally drags herself off the bed, her legs shaky as she stumbles over to join the others. She drops to her knees beside Ning, her hands reaching out to stroke your thighs. “Move over,” she mutters, her voice still weak but laced with that familiar bratty edge.

Ning smirks but scoots aside, making room for Wonyoung. Without hesitation, Wonyoung leans in, her lips wrapping around the base of your cock as she sucks hard, her tongue lapping at the sensitive skin. Her eyes flick up to meet yours, that familiar glint of mischief shining through despite her exhaustion.

The girls work together in perfect harmony, their mouths and hands exploring every inch of your cock. Seulgi focuses on the head, her lips stretching around the thick tip as she sucks and swirls her tongue. Irene takes the middle, her fingers stroking and teasing as she kisses along the shaft. Ning and Wonyoung work the base, their tongues flicking and licking at the sensitive veins, their hands gripping your thighs for support.

“Fuck,” you groan, your hand tightening in Seulgi’s hair as your hips jerk forward, thrusting deeper into her mouth. “So good—all of you—”

Wonyoung pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, her lips glistening with spit. “We know,” she purrs. “Now cum for us, oppa. We’ve earned it.”

The girls are relentless, their mouths and hands working in perfect sync as they worship your cock. Seulgi’s lips stretch around the head, her throat constricting as she tries to take you deeper, but she can’t swallow more than halfway. Her eyes water, drool dripping down her chin as she gags and pulls back, gasping for air.

“Fuck—you’re so big—” she chokes out, her voice trembling as she strokes the base of your shaft with both hands.

Irene takes over, her lips wrapping around the middle as she sucks hard, her tongue swirling along the thick veins. “So much,” she murmurs, her voice muffled as she tries to take more, her elegant facade crumbling under the sheer size of you.

Ning and Wonyoung work the base, their tongues flicking and licking at your heavy balls, their hands gripping your thighs for support. Wonyoung’s lips press against your sac, her tongue darting out to tease the sensitive skin as she looks up at you with those dark, bratty eyes.

“Cum for us,” she purrs, her voice low and commanding. “Empty those balls—all over us.”

The girls’ desperation is palpable, their voices rising in a chorus of pleas as they beg for your cum.

“Please—baby—I need it—” Seulgi whimpers, her hands stroking faster.

“Cover me,” Irene moans, her lips still wrapped around your cock.

“I want it—in my mouth—” Ning gasps, her tongue flicking against your balls.

You can’t hold back any longer. Your cock throbs, your balls tightening as the pressure builds to a breaking point. “Fuck—I’m cumming—” you growl, your voice rough and strained.

The girls don’t stop, their mouths and hands working even harder as they push you over the edge. You pull your cock out of Irene’s mouth just in time, your hand stroking the shaft as the first thick rope of cum explodes from the tip.

The first shot hits Irene square in the face, painting her delicate features with a thick, white streak. Her eyes widen in shock, but she doesn’t pull away, her tongue darting out to catch the next spurt as it lands on her lips.

Seulgi is next, her mouth open as a hot, sticky load splashes across her cheeks and chin. She moans, her fingers digging into your thighs as she leans in, trying to catch more.

Ning’s turn. The cum lands on her nose and forehead, dripping down onto her lips. She giggles, her tongue flicking out to taste it as she looks up at you with wide, playful eyes.

Finally, Wonyoung. The last shot hits her right between the eyes, the thick, white fluid dripping down her nose and onto her lips. She smirks, her tongue darting out to lick it off as she looks up at you with that familiar, bratty glint.

“I told you, girls,” she purrs. “He cums like a fucking fountain.”

But it’s not over. Your cock twitches again, another thick rope of cum shooting out and splattering across the girls’ faces. Ning opens her mouth this time, catching the load on her tongue as the others laugh and smear the cum across their skin.

“Fuck—so much—” Seulgi gasps, her fingers trailing through the mess on her face.

Irene giggles, her usual elegance replaced by a playful, almost giddy energy as she wipes the cum from her cheeks and licks it off her fingers. “I love your taste,” she murmurs, her voice trembling with arousal.

Wonyoung leans in, her lips brushing against your cock as she licks up the last few drops. “Good boy,” she purrs, her voice low and teasing.

The room is a mess of sweat, cum, and laughter as the girls start playing with the thick, sticky load you’ve painted across their faces.

Wonyoung is the first to move, her fingers trailing through the mess on her cheeks before bringing them to her lips. She sucks them clean with a slow, deliberate motion, her dark eyes locked on yours as she smirks. “Mmm,” she hums, her voice low and sultry. “Tastes even better than I remember.”

Irene giggles as she wipes the cum from her nose and chin. She licks her fingers clean, her tongue swirling around each digit with a soft, approving hum. “I've never seen anyone cum so much. It's incredible,” she murmurs.

Seulgi isn’t as delicate. She scoops a glob of cum off her cheek with two fingers and shoves it into her mouth, her lips curling into a wicked grin as she swallows. “Fuck,” she groans, her voice rough and raw. “It's really a lot—how do you even produce this much?”

Ning is the most playful, her small hands smearing the cum across her face like war paint. She sticks her tongue out, showing off the thick, white fluid pooled there before swallowing it with a satisfied grin. “Yum,” she teases, her voice light and playful. “Oppa’s cum is the best.”

The girls laugh, their voices mingling in a chorus of amusement and arousal as they continue to play with the mess on their faces. Wonyoung leans over to Irene, her cum-stained lips pressing against Irene’s in a slow, messy kiss. Their tongues swirl together, the taste of your cum mingling with their own arousal as they moan softly into each other’s mouths.

Seulgi and Ning aren’t far behind. Seulgi grabs Ning’s face, her fingers digging into her cheeks as she pulls her into a deep, hungry kiss. Ning giggles against her lips, her hands tangling in Seulgi’s hair as they share the taste of your cum, their moans muffled but unmistakable.

The sight is surreal—four of the most beautiful women in the world, their faces streaked with your cum, kissing and licking it off each other with a hunger that’s almost feral. Your cock twitches weakly, still sensitive from the intense orgasm, as you watch them with a mix of awe and satisfaction.

Wonyoung finally pulls away from Irene, her lips glistening as she turns to you. She crawls over, her long legs carrying her to your side as she leans in, her lips brushing against your softened cock. “Thank you, oppa,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. “That was… the best night ever.”

She presses one last kiss to the tip of your cock, her tongue flicking out to taste the last few drops of cum before she leans back, her bratty smirk firmly in place. “Now,” she says, her voice dripping with mischief, “who’s up for round two?”

“I’m in,” Seulgi says.

“Me to,” Irene adds.

Ning giggles. “Obviously,” she teases, her voice light and playful. “I’m not done yet.”

Wonyoung’s smirk widens, her dark eyes locking on yours. “Looks like it’s unanimous,” she purrs. “Round two it is.”

[girlyhornywriter]

Enabled

Your girlfriend had never exactly been "skinny". She wasn't fat by any means (not when you two got together at least), but there was always a certain roundness to her that caught your eye from the beginning. It was just enough to make it clear that she wasn't someone who put in any time at the gym. She didn't have those firm edges and defined angles that muscle would have given her figure... She was too lazy to strive for that. She just wasn't all that motivated by food, so she never ate enough for her weight to really change.

That was before she moved in with you, though.

It wasn't intentional at first. She spent a lot of time at home, since she only worked part-time, and you had always kept your fridge and pantry stocked with a bunch your favourite snacks... which also turned out to be some of her favourite snacks. When she lived alone, she was too disorganised to keep her pantry properly stocked, so snacks were a luxury that diminished fast at her old place. Living with you meant they were always getting refreshed as soon as they started to run out, so she didn't have that natural limitation.

And it started to show.

It was slow enough that it took you both by surprise, but she was getting bigger. Every morning, you noticed how much longer it took her to get ready, even as she remained oblivious to how her routine was adapting. She fought to put on her panties every morning, stretching them to their limit as they were pulled over her rounder ass; she needed to suck in her belly as far as she could just to get her jeans to button up, and the strain they were under was she let her gut spill back out was clear even from where you would watch her; she would need to try on two or three tops before she found one that didn't leave the underside of her belly exposed. She blamed it on the fact you were making sure she drank more water now.

And you... agreed with her.

You knew that wasn't the truth. You always took out the garbage, and always saw the empty bags of chips and chocolate bar wrappers that you definitely knew hadn't been put there by you, but even though the fact she was plumping up from all that eating was obvious to you... You didn't want to reveal that to her.

Because then she'd probably stop eating so much. And then you wouldn't get to see her grow bigger.

You had never had a particularly strong preference about your girlfriend's size. Slim, thick, you loved her no matter what she weighed. But this was more than that. The way she was so oblivious to the way her body was changing, the way her clothes were straining to keep up, the fact that the snacks in your pantry were definitely disappearing faster than they had been when she first moved in... It was pushing all the right buttons for you. Sex had never been better, and she still hadn't noticed that you hands seemed to be spending a lot more time than usual groping her softer ass cheeks or squeezing the fat roll that was forming around her midsection.

So you kept your observations to yourself, and made sure to double your snack purchases to make sure she never ran out of them while she was watching TV or gaming at home while you were out at work. You even started leaving some in the living room sometimes, so that she could indulge her appetite without even needing to think about it. You'd get home in the evening to find her lying on the couch, finishing off her sixth bag of chips, her jeans unbuttoned to make room for the extra belly she was sporting... And then she'd ask what you wanted to do for dinner.

But you weren't fattening her up. You were just making it easier for her to do that to herself. It was all her decision, after all. As far as anyone could prove, you just hadn't noticed that you were buying boatloads of your girlfriend's favourite snacks and leaving them all around the house for her to mindlessly graze on all day long. Her eating habits just totally slipped by you...

That excuse didn't hold up so well when you started bleaching the tags on her clothes so that she wouldn't notice you replacing them with the next size up any time she started struggling to pick out an outfit that she could still fit her fat gut into. But still weren't technically forcing her to eat so much and never exercise any of those calories off. You were just... making sure her clothes stayed comfortable! And that she didn't get self-conscious about rapidly approaching the plus-sized range of clothes! Yeah, you were totally just being a good boyfriend.

You were always on her side when she would complain that your favourite restaurants were sneakily reducing their serving sizes. Of course that's what they're doing, babe! Why else would you still be hungry after your usual order? We'll get you a second dessert though, it's okay...

And you always reassured when she would ask you if you thought she looked a little different lately. You look as beautiful as you always have, babe. I'm sure your face just looks a little rounder because of the way you've been styling your hair lately. Don't be silly babe, you don't have a double-chin, it's just the lighting. Your thigh gap is still there sweetheart, don't worry, your belly just blocks your view of it.

You did so much to keep her spirits up when she got laid off from work, too! Bringing home take-out for her to cheer her up when you'd come home from work, telling her she could spend as long as she needed cooped up in the house, encouraging her interest in taking up baking to fill in her now-abundant free time...

You were just being a good boyfriend. It's not you fault she got so fat...

As you get back from work with the three twelve-inch pizzas she asked you to pick up on the way home though, and watch her struggle to rock herself onto her feet from her position seated on the couch, you do feel a tiny bit responsible for what she has become.

Maybe you did enable her NEET tendencies, just a bit. But she has such a big smile on her face as she waddles towards you in the doorway, licking her lips, so she can't be that bothered by the fact that she hasn't really left the house in the past month...

And maybe she wouldn't be so obese if you didn't make her heavy-cream milkshakes whenever she mentioned being in the mood for something sweet. But could the dozens of pounds of flab and blubber jiggling and bouncing on her frame with every step she took towards you definitely be blamed on those thousands of empty calories?

An argument could be made that telling her that she didn't have to keep wearing clothes around the house if she didn't want to didn't really help her waistline... But you stopped being able to find clothes in her size eventually, and she was going to notice her outfits tearing sooner or later if you didn't do something. You think her new au natural suits her really well, though! You love the fact that you don't have to wait until you get her into the bedroom to see the thick rolls of chub adorning her once-flat tummy, or the thick layers of cellulite coating her ass and thighs, or her pendulous tits that bounce against each other with every step she takes. It's not like she seems to mind the fact that it's so much easier for you to grope every fleshy inch of her, either.

As she reaches you and opens up the first pizza box, she stops for a second, her hand already halfway towards her first delicious slice. She looks at you, and when she catches her breath, she speaks:

"Babe... Do you think I'm getting fat?"

[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.

[kingkatsuki]

— sucker

Okay okay, just one more and then I’m done.

Kaji fucks you with one of his lollipops. That’s it, that’s the post.

Pairing: Kaji Ren x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, cunnilingus, spit, he fucks you with his lollipop, cum tasting (do I need to warn for that idk), not proofread.

Word Count: 1.7k.

You look so perfect like this, Kaji thinks as he admires you sprawled out beneath him. Your pretty eyes stare up at him through thick lashes as you covet his attention; attention that he’s more than willing to give to you.

Kaji’s lollipop rattles against his teeth as he moves it to the side of his mouth, nestled against his cheek as you see it protrude against the skin. It makes him look cute, compared to the smoldering gaze of his dark grey eyes searing through you. His warm palms smooth against the apex of your thighs as you wriggle beneath him, your skirt already bunched at your hips to give him the view of your cute cotton panties.

He’s gentle as he curls his fingers into the hem of your underwear, a stark contrast to the rough callouses on his hands that catch against your smooth skin. Peeling the fabric down he leaves them dangling around one of your ankles.

“You this wet already?” He hums, his hand moving to the stick of his lollipop in contemplation as he admires the sight of you.

“Shut up,” You whine, flustered as you wriggle your hips in a silent plea. Your poor clit is desperate for attention as it throbs dramatically between your thighs.

“Make me.” He teases back, muffled by the lollipop between his lips as he pulls it out, licking his lips.

Holding the stick steady as he ran the sticky sweet through your messy folds, collecting your juices on the surface of it as the lollipop catches your clit. Your hips jerk in response as he repeats the motion, carefully rolling the ball of it against your clit from side to side as he applies a slight pressure.

“So pretty,” He hums, leaving a sticky trail in his wake as he dragged the lollipop further down to press against your tight entrance. Swirling the stick between his thumb and forefinger as he watches your greedy hole desperately try to suck it in.

“You’re such a tease,” You huff, staring up at the ceiling in irritation as Kaji continues to tease you.

“No, I’m not,” He replies with a lazy smile, and before you have a chance to hit him with another cocky retort he pushes the ball of the sweet inside your velvety walls.

The quick motion steals the air from your lungs as you choke back a whine, your hips bucking beneath him as he starts a languid pace. The stretch is barely there as your walls flutter around it, trying to push it deeper as he fucks the lollipop inside you. His free hand smooths along your thigh, as warm lips press a lingering kiss to your inner knee.

“You’re making such a mess,” Kaji grins as he watches your essence leak from your hole, drooling down the curve of your ass. He shamelessly pulls the sweet from your hole, holding it in the air so you could see your pearlescent slick glistening on the peach sucker.

A needy, pathetic whine airs low in your throat when Kaji holds the lollipop to his lips as the flat of his tongue pokes out to swipe at it. Writhing beneath him at the implication as you imagine his tongue lapping at your clit in the same way, fucking into you like he had the lollipop do moments earlier.

“You taste so fucking good.” He grunts, shifting his hips as his cock strains against the tight skinny jeans he’s wearing. The zipper is rough against his boxers to give him slight gratification as he presses the heel of his hand against it.

Kaji moves the lollipop back to your cunt as he leaves another sticky line against your outer folds, dragging it in a sloppy circle around your cunt whilst deliberately avoiding where you need it most.

“I told you you’re a tease.” You huff, practically pouting at him as his lips curl into a sly smirk. Bringing the lollipop towards your hole as he pushes it in without warning, immediately curling his wrist to press the round, firm top of it against the spongy spot inside you, “Oh, fuck—”

“I dunno,” He mumbles, deliberately fucking the lollipop against your sweet spot, “It seems like you like it.”

And you did like it, your hips meeting his movements as you fucked yourself on the sweet. Rolling your hips as he watched your walls tremble and throb around the thin white stick, barely the same girth as one of his fingers. Your poor, needy hole desperate to feel full.

“Want your mouth.” You press, gasping when he lets the lollipop still inside you. Letting go of the stick in favour of thumbing your puffy clit as he watches it bob inside you, working you towards your release.

“Cum for me first.” He coaxes, and you find yourself obeying.

“I’m not a dog, you jerk! I can’t just— oh,” You break off into a sultry moan as you feel yourself tumbling into bliss. The sloppy figure of eights he presses against your sensitive nub enough to have you crying out for him as the coil inside you snaps, thrashing beneath him as you reach your peak.

“Sorry, what was that?” The side of Kaji’s lips curls into a smirk as he pulls the lollipop from your hole, deliberately dragging it back up through your folds to press against your oversensitive clit before reaching over your body to offer it to you, “Cause it sounded like you were cumming.”

“Stop it, Ren.” Your cheeks burn as you feel molten lava flood through your veins.

“Nah, I don’t think I will.” He laughs.

Your cunt still pulses from the aftershocks of your release as he smooths a palm along your sternum before venturing higher. The stick of the lollipop still poised between his thumb and forefinger as he taps the sticky surface of the lollipop against your lips.

“Hold this for me, baby.” He hums softly, pressing the sticky sucker against your pouty bottom lip. Groaning as your tongue pokes out obediently in your post-orgasm haze to wrap around the peach sweet as you draw it inside your mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue, “See how good you taste?”

He palms himself through his jeans in a feeble attempt to satiate the throb of his heavy cock as his pre begins to soak through the dark denim. Adjusting himself he curls his hands beneath the plush of your thighs, holding you open as grey eyes stare up at you. Meeting your gaze as he presses a lingering, open-mouthed kiss to your clit as your hips jolt in response. Still sensitive from the intense climax he gifted you moments earlier as you keen beneath him. Kaji licks your labia, tasting the mixture of you and the peach lollipop residue on his tongue before tightening his grip on your thighs.

The lollipop clashes against your teeth as you try to stop it from hitting the back of your throat in response. Pushing it against the lining of your cheeks as you drool around it, swallowing thickly as Kaji drags his tongue through your slick, following the same sweet path the lollipop had taken.

“Shit, shit, shit,” You whimper when you feel his tongue prod at your tight entrance, slurping at you like a man starved as he sucks the mess between your thighs. Keeping it inside his mouth before crudely spitting it back onto your cunt, the debauched noise causing you to cry out for him.

Your fingers card through his hair, messing up his flat fringe as you pushed it away from his forehead. Curling your fingers through it as you tug softly, trying to get him to give your needy cunt more attention as the coil inside you began to wind again.

Kaji collects the moisture back on his tongue as he moves to lap at your clit, tongue lashing against the sensitive nub as he pushes two slender fingers inside you. Immediately curling them towards the spot he knew like the back of his hand as he worked you towards your release.

“You feel tighter now,” He hums, “Gotta stretch you out for my cock, baby.”

“Ren.” You cry out, your thighs squeezing around his cheeks as he continues his steady pace, “‘m close.”

He took this as an invitation as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard. Cheeks hollowed like they would when he had a sucker between his lips, staring up at you with hungry eyes.

“Oh, fuck,” Your nails drag against his scalp as you scramble for purchase, holding his head steady as you unabashedly grind your cunt against his mouth. Kaji’s long fingers still fucking into you with vigour as you continue to grind your hips against his face, using him for your own pleasure as you teeter on the edge of another climax.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” His voice vibrates against your clit, “Get yourself off, just like that—”

Spit pools in your mouth from the lollipop as you try to remember to swallow, trapping it between your cheek and teeth as you feel yourself succumb to the pleasure.

Kaji doesn’t utter a word, instead focusing on your climax as he works you through it. His fingers are constant against the spongy spot inside you while his tongue lashes against your clit. Pressing a palm against your pelvis to stop your hips from bucking wildly as he fucks you through your release. White spots blank your vision as you try feebly to blink them away, your walls tremble around his fingers as he helps ease you down from your high. Following the motion of your hips as he prolongs your pleasure, the little shockwaves continue to roll through you.

Kaji sits up from his position between your thighs as he leans forward to grab the white stick from between your teeth. His eyes focused intently as he watched your lips obediently part to give the sweet treat back to him, as he placed it back inside his mouth. The stick shifts back to the side of his lips as he unzips his skinny jeans just enough to free his drooling cock, a strong palm wrapped around it as he prepared to push it against your still fluttering hole. Smoothing the blunt tip through your folds to coat it in your essence before he presses against your tight entrance, immediately feeling the true stretch.

“I want your mouth empty so I can hear every little sound.” He grins before pushing his cock into you with one sharp thrust, “You always look prettiest cumming on my cock.”

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 01

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 2.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 27 years old

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun asks, stretching as you get out of bed and grab all of your clothes. It was late but you hate sleeping in another bed than yours.

“I should go home.” You simply say, pulling on your panties and jeans as the younger man whines, flipping on his back.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, stay the night.” He suggests as you shake your head with an apologetic smile while putting your bra on.

“Hyesun is getting married, tomorrow. I need to get up early,” You explain, but it was an excuse. You don’t want to be more than intimate enough with anyone.

Once fully clothed, you grab your keys and turn to look at the man still laying completely naked in bed. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Aight, boss,” He teases making you roll your eyes. “One last kiss?”

“Bye,” You smile closing the door of his room, hearing him laugh before making your way out of his apartment.

Once in your car, you sigh, leaning on your seat as you stare at the ceiling. Eleven pm already, and tomorrow’s list kept growing in your mind.

Your way home was silent, you didn’t even put music on, mentally listing all the tasks to do tomorrow morning. Drive Hyesun to the hairstylist, make sure that the flowers are delivered, get her dress, and a lot more.

The house should already be decorated by now. Hyesun was getting married at her in-law’s house. They have a big yard and suggested to make the reception in there. Since you couldn’t be here to help today, you ended up with the stressful tasks tomorrow. Her friends aren’t yours.

Yes, you still have a small circle of friends in common, but Hyesun was a sunshine and most of all: an extrovert. She met her husband by boldly asking his number at a coffee shop where he was working, five years ago. Something you could never. That’s probably why you’re still single and she’s getting married.

Kicking your shoes off at your front door, you’re greeted by your cat. He was a little terror. Or a demon like Namjoon loves to call him. And you can’t blame your friend. Not only was Trash a black cat with only one ear, the other got cut off. You don’t know how.

He was already like that when you adopted him. He was skinny and really ugly when you first got him. Well... he’s still ugly, but now he’s well-fed, maybe too much, you chuckle as you kneel to scratch the top of his head. But he was also a tiny demon who attacked everyone who dared to visit you.

“Did you miss me?” You coo as the black cat let out a meow husky enough to let you think that he smokes too many cigarettes. He’s not a loud cat, he occasionally meows when he’s hungry or when you come home after a long day.

As you make your way to the kitchen, the fat cat follows you. Opening the fridge, you take out a bottle of water and gives him a treat. Your eyes fall on the dress you’ll wear tomorrow, hanged at the bedroom door.

The wedding theme was midnight sky. So, obviously, your dress is navy blue and long enough to end at your ankles with a slit on the right side. You didn’t choose it, Hyesun did.

Palming your face, you take a sip of your water and walk to your bedroom. You need a shower. You could still smell Baekhyun’s cheap cologne on your skin. And you hate it. Too used to your own scent. Not of any men anymore.

The wedding was beautiful, but you didn’t expect less from your best friend. And she was gorgeous in her wedding dress. She smiles a lot, but you never see her smile that way. And all you could think was that her jaw muscles probably hurt after four hours.

“No, what I want, is a whole butterfly starting from my shoulders to my ribs,” Your friend, Hwan explains to you as she flips to show her bare back. You can’t help but scoff, taking a sip of your wine.

“Why? You want to become a fairy or something?” You ask arching a brow as she turns to face you, frowning.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Hwan pouts, folding her arms under her chest, “I saw it on Pinterest, I totally fell in love with it.”

“A tattoo is for life, you know?” You sigh, finishing your glass before tilting your head to brush your fingers on her back, right where her ribs are. “And this part is sensitive. It’ll hurt like hell.”

Hwan shivers at your touch, and you chuckle. You know her. She wants a tattoo today, a piercing tomorrow and in two weeks she’ll regret both. The red head -a dye she did without a second thought- rolls her eyes.

“And you think I can’t handle the pain?” She asks with an attitude, a tone that makes you pinch her forearm as she squirms and step back. “Are you crazy?”

“You can’t handle the pain, Hwan.” You conclude while she rubs the part that start to turn red.

“You’re the worst tattoo artist I know. I’ll give you a bad review on Google.” She groans as you smirk and stick your tongue’s out at her, making her smile amused by you.

Your eyes scan the room full of guests you don��t know before a huge smile spread on your lips as you notice the man all alone. He was sipping his glass of whisky as he looks at his phone, feigning to be interested but he’s probably scrolling emptily. You know him. He hates when people try to connect with him.

Excusing yourself from Hwan and the other girls, you make your way to your friend, too busy on his phone to see you coming.

“Yoongs,” You call him once you’re a few steps closer to him, he lifts his cat eyes from his screen before offering you a slight smirk and opening his arms as you nestle against his chest. You’re not really touchy, but with Yoongi, it was different.

“Nice dress.” He simply says, his nose in your hair before you pull back to look at him. He looks nice too. His hair is longer, but it suits him.

“You didn’t cut your hair?” You ask as he sighs, rolling a strand between his finger as you keep an arm around his waist.

“Didn’t have the time for it.”, He mumbles taking another sip of his whisky. “I didn’t know you would be here. Since you own a tattoo shop, we don’t see you often anymore.”

“It’s my best friend’s wedding, I couldn’t miss it. She would have dragged my ass back here.” you chuckle making him smile and nod.

“That sounds like Hyesun,” He jokes as you smile.

Yoongi wasn’t that tall, but he was still everyone’s type. Calm, mysterious, and good looking. If only dating was on his plans. That guy will probably stay single his whole life, too focused on his work.

“I was looking for you everywhere!” Hyesun groans grabbing your arm.

“I was here,” You simply reply, raising your shoulders, making Yoongi looks at you both amused. You probably get along because you’re both sarcastic. At least you know that’s something he likes about you.

“Thanks Sherlock, Mystery solved!” She rolls her eyes, before pulling you away from your friend, “Come on, follow me, I want to take pictures with you.”

She quickly waves at Yoongi, blowing a kiss at him as he didn’t move before pushing you away.

“He’s like a good old wine. Every time I see him, he’s getting hotter.” She smirks as you make your way to the photographer.

“Aren’t you married?” You joke making her roll her eyes.

“Married, not blind. As long as I touch with my eyes,” She adds as you shake your head, laughing, joining the girls.

Yoongi leaves his empty glass on the table next to him, an amused smirk on his face. If you stayed longer, he would have been part of an interesting reunion.

“Shit, I almost peed myself. There is a whole queue at the male bathroom,” The younger man groans, coming back next to Yoongi as he takes back his beer. “Hyung?”

The older man turns to his friend and arches a brow to show that he’s listening.

“Hyesun told me that there was a private bathroom upstairs for the closest friends” Yoongi simply mumbles, making Jungkook groans as he ties his hair into a bun.

“And you tell me only now?” the tattooed man sighs as he pulls up his sleeves, the temperature of the room getting hotter. Or maybe it’s him from running here and there.

“You left without a word,” Yoongi shrugs like it was obvious, his eyes still on the group of girls making funny faces at the camera. Jungkook lets out a chuckle.

“Which one?” He asks his friend who simply arches a brow. “I’m sure it’s the red head. You always had a think for girls with weird hair colors.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything. He’s used to the teasing. It’s a loss of energy, Jungkook was competitive and if you say that the sky was blue, he would tell otherwise until you tell him he's right.

Jungkook smiles proudly, turning his attention to the bunch of girls. Hyesun had pretty friends, but he’s not surprised. Until he recognized a face. A face he knows too well, a face he loved deeply once upon a time.

You didn’t change. Well… Your hair is shorter. You never liked your hair short, not after your mother spent your childhood cutting it into a bob.

The bangs too. You hated them. But today, you wore it gracefully. His doe eyes trail the length of it, how it brushes your shoulders when you laugh, how you have to push your bang asides.

He never hated you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after coming home to an empty apartment because you disappeared, or when you blocked his number and changed yours. He never hated you.

“You said she wasn’t here.” He frowns, turning to Yoongi who simply arches a brow.

“She wasn’t supposed to.” Yoongi replies, taking a sip of his new glass.

“I shouldn’t have come.” Jungkook sighs, his brows still in a frown creating a slight wrinkle between them.

“Kookie,” Yoongi turns his gaze to his friend who’s clearly uncomfortable. “You’re back in town. You both have the same friends group. What did you expect? You’ll have to confront her one day or another.”

“Y/N,” Hwan calls you as you were taking another glass of wine, facing her with a small hm? “The guy you talked earlier,”

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, something like that. Do you know his friend?” She asks as you follow her gaze to the large man next to Yoongi, his back facing you. You liked the tattoos, and the muscular frame. The long hair was clearly a bonus.

“No,” You reply, your eyes trailing on Yoongi’s friend. You’ll definitely ask Yoongi who that is later.

“He’s hot,” Hwan comments as you nod, taking a sip of your wine before spitting everything out. You cough when the mysterious man turns around, laughing with your friend.

And almost immediately, you hide behind the table that separates you. Was this a joke?

“What’s wrong? One of your one-night stands?” Hwan chuckles clearly amused to see you, on your knees, trying to hide under the table. If only you could be sucked up by the floor. It was stupid. It was an old story. It’s been seven years since you dumped him like an old, forgotten sock.

“It’s my ex,” You almost whisper, making Hwan wide her eyes and hide with you like she even met him before.

You never thought that you’ll see him again. He disappeared for Japan right after your breakup for his studies. And you didn’t think about him since then. Well, it’s a lie.

You thought about him the three first years after your split. But, he was just some old memories from the shoebox under your bed. 

Some love letters written by a teenage boy, an empty bottle of perfume and a shirt of his that you didn’t have the heart to throw. But that’s all he was. A shoebox of memories.

“Oh damn,” Hwan murmurs, “How did you get that hot piece of man?” She asks as you roll your eyes.

He wasn’t that hot when you started dating him. He had a chestnut haircut, was too skinny even if he was the sporty type, and huge doe eyes. Now he’s…. a man.

“I think… I need to get out”, You swallow, get up and finish your glass. Walking to the backyard, you catch a bottle on your way.

Thankfully, Hwan didn’t follow you. A few persons were outside, some of them making out, the others too drunk, and probably getting some fresh air like you.

Did Hyesun invite him? Why did he come? He knows that she’s your friend. That you’d be here. Palming your face, you lean back against the wall, taking a sip of your bottle of champagne. Fuck… This is childish. You’re twenty-seven, for God’s sake. Act like an adult.

“Hiding?” You heard on your right, making you almost jump.

And here he was, a few meters away, a bottle of beer in hand. His eyes changed. He grew up.

“Good evening, Jungkook,” You breathe as he offers you a slight smile, his lips mostly forming a line.

“Good evening, Y/N,” He replies, making a few steps closer, “Long time no see.”

“Yeah...”

A silence falls between you before he takes a breath like he wants to calm his nerves too. Were you two nervous around each other?

“How… have you been?” He asks with a soft voice.

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“Nice.”

You wanted to punch yourself. That conversation was stupid. Back then, you two could debate about everything for hours. Now, you can’t even have a basic conversation.

“I… Didn’t know you were back.” You say, looking at the grass at your feet.

“Yeah… I- I missed Korea.” He raises his shoulders slightly before taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh…Okay.” You scrunch your nose and take a sip of your bottle to not look too much stupid but his lips crease in an amused smile at the bottle in your hand. Neither of you says anything. And it’s weird. “That’s… some cool tattoos,” You add, trying to make the conversation as you point his entire inked sleeve with your chin.

“Yeah?” He chuckles awkwardly. “I always wanted tattoos.”

“I know.” You reply, almost immediately, making him lift his gaze to you as your eyes widen. “You- hm- You thought that Yakuza were cool.” you continue as he nods, his eyes still on you while you look away.

“You remembered.”

You clench your jaw slightly and take another sip of champagne. You hate champagne, but you didn’t read what was written on the bottle when you took it.

“Your father must be proud of you. I heard you had your own tattoo shop.” He says as your gaze soften. Jungkook and your dad were always close, he even called him ‘son’. Your father was in fact, proud of you.

“He is”, was all you could reply, and he nods silently before taking a deep breath.

“Can I… ask you a question? I need to understand something” He frowns a little, turning his head to look at the backyard before finally glancing back at you. He is waiting for you to answer and you simply stare at him. “Why did you leave me, Y/N?”

< previous - MASTERLIST - next >

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3 (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

[tired-biscuit]

A friend, a mate, and all things in-between

18+ MDNI, fem!reader/werewolf!bsf!kiba

premise: after finding out the truth about the role you supposedly play in kiba’s life, you settle on a compromise of taking things slow and seeing where the wind takes you while you’re at it.

cw: monsterfucking, knotting, implied breeding, mounting, size difference, omegaverse themes, werewolf saliva used as aphrodisiac. college/modern AU, friends to lovers, established mating bond, jealousy, descriptions of a close call-cheating encounter in the past, usage of sweetheart and bunny as pet names for reader.

wc: 22.8k

find part one here!

———

On Saturday, Kiba takes you out for dinner, exactly like he’d promised.

The restaurant by the lake that you’ve decided to visit is quaint as much as it is familiar. The lighting is dim but warm, and the tables are clean even if some of the edges have been smoothed out with age and use. Pictures and framed newspaper articles cover the walls. All of them feature your little town in some way or another.

There’s a pleasant tune playing on the tiny, white speakers that are fixed in the corner. You’re pretty sure you’ve heard the song on the radio before. The easy-going notes resemble the elevator music you sometimes hear whenever you go shopping at the local mall and have to reach the garage underneath, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad, necessarily.

If you had to describe the place, it reminds you of a diner that’s gotten stuck in the past, that is if a diner was situated next to a lake and the modern aspects of it were entirely excluded, of course.

After all, there is a shiny new coffee machine sitting behind the counter, and the waitress is wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt instead of a uniform and rollerblades — the latter being a missed opportunity in your opinion.

But speaking of time; both yourself and Kiba used to come here all the time back when you were younger, even going so far back that your feet were left dangling in the air as soon as your butts had plopped onto the same plushy chairs you’re sitting in now. Making choices was easier back then — the only food you ordered had come from the kids menu.

You can still hear his, ‘Are ya gonna finish that?’ somewhere in the back of your mind. 

As well as his mother’s immediate hiss of disapproval, ‘For goodness’ sake, boy, let the poor girl eat her food in peace! With the way you’re acting, people are gonna start thinking that I don’t feed you enough.’

In the beginning, you both ate here with your parents. Afterwards — when the soles of your sneakers were able to firmly touch the floor and Kiba had won the bet and got his driver’s license well before you did — it was mostly just the two of you.

But as you sit across from him at the table that’s situated right next to the window, and which you’ve personally favoured for years — you know that he prefers the one that’s in the corner — you come to realize that this date is different from all the previous ones that you’ve been on in this exact place with him.

Because unlike the rest, this one is actually for real.

And it shows, you think. In many ways, with the most obvious one being the fact that your best friend has tidied himself up rather nicely despite the high temperatures outside.

There are jeans instead of gym shorts on his strong legs, and clean shoes on his feet instead of the busted sneakers that he swears up and down are still holding on just fine. He’s even gone through the hassle of putting on a short-sleeved button-up with a pretty pattern that cleverly melds into the colour of the cotton if you’re looking closely enough — not that you are!

In classic Kiba fashion, the top two buttons of his shirt are undone; open just enough for the glint of a thin golden chain to catch your eye whenever he tilts his head to the side or stretches his neck.

You haven’t been staring at the piece of jewelry for long, wondering where or who he’d gotten it from, however you can still tell that there’s no pendant hanging off the necklace. No charm or initial either.

Good.

Wait, wait, wait… why is that good? Are you by any chance hoping that he’ll agree to wear yours because of it?

The thought succeeds in heating up your face with stress — a popular emotion this entire situation has been evoking as of late. Ever since he had admitted that you were his mate back in the tent, you’re still feeling the pressure of deciding if you actually want to be one. 

And placing a mark like that on him, clasping your golden initial around his neck and consequently announcing that he’s your property now… It’d signal just that, now wouldn’t it?

Attempting to whisk away the dilemma that’s been plaguing your mind for the last couple of days, you force your eyes to dip from your best friend’s neck, down to the plate of half-eaten food that you’ve still got sitting in front of you. 

Your grip on the fork is tight as you chew. The food is good, even if you can’t taste it all that much from how absent-minded you are.

In a mere instant, Kiba is leaning in to ask, “You okay?”

He’s always asking that as of late.

Are you all right?

Is everything okay?

Are you sure?

“Yeah.” The nod you give him is so stiff and fast that it comes across as unnatural instead of genuine. “I’m fine.”

You try to ignore the curious smile that curls his lips as he continues to watch you eat, undoubtedly inhaling the anxiety that riddles your scent in subtle waves now. 

He’s learned that it intensifies whenever his foot accidentally touches yours underneath the table. That it doubles in strength whenever he looks you in the eyes for too long. Sometimes it even happens when he grins. Practically everything seems to be setting you off today.

You’re nervous, that much is clear. Are way up in your head about this entire thing just like you are with everything else that happens in your life. And while finding out that you’re basically a perfect biological match for your best friend is no small feat, the young werewolf’s opinion remains: you need to fucking relax. 

With how hard you’re squeezing that fork, it’s making him fear that you’re trying to split it in half — an act that he definitely wouldn’t mind doing to you again.

Woah there, reel it back in, lover boy… Easy!

Willing himself to push the dirty thought away by thinking about the food he’s eating instead, Kiba swallows the bite of steak he’d just been chewing on with a small, albeit conflicted sigh. 

The meat tastes rich despite the fact that it’s been served nearly raw — the bloodier, the better when it comes to dining with a werewolf, you suppose — however, he finds it hard to fully appreciate the meal when unlike his taste buds, his libido is far from appeased.

“Anyways.” He pauses to glide the tip of his tongue across his front teeth, further appreciating the savory taste that’s stuck there before he leans in slightly closer again. “You look really pretty tonight.”

Hearing his compliment, you look up from your plate; carefully eyeing him from underneath your lashes which you’ve taken the time to coat with a thin layer of mascara before leaving the house. It was a decision made solely for your own peace of mind.

Well, probably. 

Taking a shallow breath now, you ask, “I do?”

“What kind of stupid question is that… ‘Course you’re pretty, bunny. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of layin’ my eyes on,” he says, chuckling quietly and propping his cheek against one palm with such ease that it’s almost scary.

Watching you succumb further into yourself in response to his niceness is entertaining as hell, he can’t lie. You’re lost, vulnerable. If looks as sweet as the one that’s sitting on your face right now had the power to kill, he’d be proclaimed a dead man ages ago. 

It compels him to add, “You’ve always been pretty to me.”

Messing with you or not, what he says now is the truth. Sticking by your side in the role of your best friend for so many years, Kiba has seen you be at your best as often as he’s experienced you at your worst, and has nonetheless always, always thought the exact same thing about you: that you’re perfect. 

Perfect for him, that is.

Whether you’re wearing trendy skirts or hoodies so big that they entirely hide your shape, he still likes you all the same. Whether you’re walking around with freshly washed hair and with make-up on your face, or you’re still stumbling around because you’ve just woken up from a nap that has left you all disoriented and sweaty — to him there’s no difference as long as it’s you.

Part of it is the bond’s doing. It veils you with an appeal that draws him to you no matter what. However, whilst that may be the case, he thinks that the majority of his wild infatuation has to do with plain familiarity instead.

After all, it’s your heart that is his favourite thing about you, that much he’s positive about… Even if the shy little smile that you give him now could be considered quite the competitor. 

And quite the competitor it is! Kiba’s eyes are practically glued to the wet-like sheen of your lip gloss when you slowly shake your head to chide a meek, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” he inquires immediately with a grin of his own.

“Stop flirting,” you say, placing the fork back onto your plate with a soft clink. Crossing your legs underneath the table, your body language is trying its hardest to appear strict as you add, “We said we were going to take it slow, remember…? Or are you just playing dumb on purpose?”

“What’re you talking about; we are taking it slow,” he says, his tone a matter-of-fact one. “Actually, I doubt it can get much slower than this.”

Your lips purse in response. “Talking in a way that makes you sound like you’re trying to get into my pants does not mean slow, Kiba.”

“You’re not wearing any pants, though.” His gaze slips down to the light sundress you’ve put on for the night. It makes your tits look great, but he knows you wouldn’t be happy to hear that.

You snap your fingers in front of his nose, forcing him to avert his attention from your dress. “That’s besides the point and you know it.”

“Oh, c’mon.” He takes another bite of his food, then points his fork at you, seemingly in an accusatory type of way as he mutters, “I’m just saying… If we did it my way, I would’ve bent you over ages ago.”

“Can… Can you not?! God.” You fight to extinguish the heat that immediately begins to simmer on your cheeks, but it’s proving to be quite difficult. The warmth is so strong that it even manages to travel down to the base of your neck. “Just… be quiet for a second, okay?”

His upper lip twitches as his grin widens. “Why?”

“Just ‘cause!”

Kiba huffs a laugh at the slightly higher pitch that you speak in now, shoulders shaking the tiniest bit. He watches you clear your throat and readjust in your seat, and even goes as far as to drag his gaze from your face to your neck when you reach over to take a small sip of the cocktail you’ve ordered. It still sits on the table looking half-full; creating a prominent circle of moisture on the crispy white table cloth underneath. 

The drink is colourful and summery. Even has a little paper umbrella on top. He had joked about how girly it looks earlier, but had secretly considered ordering the exact same thing just to see what the inside of your mouth must taste like. After some consideration, he’d ended up settling on a coke though.

He knows you’d nag him to no end about drinking when he’s the one who’s driving… even if alcohol doesn’t do shit when it comes to him.

Still, girly drink or not, the ice somewhat succeeds in cooling you off and poses a challenge to the sudden heat of bashfulness that threatens to sweep you off your feet. It’s like all your senses have gone acute all of a sudden.

The sigh you let out because of it is one of only partial relief.

“What’s the matter? You hot?” Kiba teases instantly, his voice dropping so dangerously low that you can almost feel it reverberate in your bones. “Hot and bothered?”

“Shut up,” you hiss before taking another sip, this time a larger one. You need it if you wish to endure this menace of a man.

“What’s in it for me?” the mentioned menace questions now, taunting you with that infuriating half-smile that he knows damn well provokes you immensely. He even goes as far as to wiggle his eyebrows as he gives his best effort to purr, “Does it make you feel things, mm? Makes you wanna— Hey!”

His taunting gets replaced with a huff of disapproval when you suddenly kick him in the shin, making the fork rattle atop your plate. The kick itself is nowhere near to being powerful enough to actually hurt him, considering his thick skin and the firm cords of muscle that hide underneath, but it does get the message across. Kind of.

“What’d you do that for?” A playful little pout sits on Kiba’s mouth now. It makes him look younger than he actually is; makes him resemble the kid that you spent all your time with back in high school, as well as all the years prior to that. 

“Because it was well deserved, you dumbass,” you mumble, still staring at his face. A small, slightly less nervous chuckle bubbles up your throat when he bristles in answer. “Now be quiet and eat your dinner.”

Not even batting an eye, he blurts out, “I’d rather eat you, though.”

You give it your best shot to scowl at him even if the tease sparks heat somewhere inside your middle all over again. It’s the reason why your voice doesn’t sound as strong as you want it to be when you say, “You’re hopeless, you know that? Actually hopeless.”

“Actually, I think I'm quite on my game tonight.” He gives you a wink, reaching for his fork again. “But you can keep tellin’ yourself that if it makes ya feel any better, sweetheart.”

He’s right. 

It makes you sigh.

———

The rest of your first proper date with your best friend goes well. Scarily so.

In fact, neither of you picks up the phone during the entirety of it. The only exception is when you decide to stalk your old classmates from high school together and share a good laugh about some of the results you stumble upon.

“Oh shit, he’s actually completely bald… What the hell?”

“Called it! I fuckin’ called it!”

Your face hurts from laughing so much and with the initial nervousness gone, dinner goes smoothly. You end up sharing dessert and talking nearly until closing time — releasing the growingly impatient waitress from your clutches at long last and mumbling sheepish apologies along the way because of it. 

To be honest, the entire outing isn’t much different from all the previous ones you’ve indulged in the exact same restaurant all those years ago.

However, you soon find out that that is because the change in your dynamic presents itself afterwards; when he turns to look you in the eye the second you sit in his car and asks you if you want to go to his place, despite the fact that it’s getting late and he doesn’t live with his mom anymore.

And you go. You nod your head yes and you fucking go. For what reason, you, yourself don’t know, but you might as well find out while you’re at it.

So around quarter to midnight, you arrive to the little apartment that Kiba calls his new home. It’s cozy and a little messy, though not to a degree that should cause concern. Otherwise, it’s lived in and definitely your standard guy apartment.

He shows you the kitchen, immediately rolling his eyes when your gaze lands onto the small pile of dishes in the sink — two cereal bowls and a mug that for some reason says ‘World’s Best Dad’ on it — and points you in the direction of the bathroom, his roommate’s bedroom, and finally, his own room, which you tell him you’ll take a look at some other time, preferably during the day and when you don’t have three sugary cocktails coursing your blood and clouding your better judgement. 

You did say that you were going to take it slow, after all.

By the time he drags you into the living room, you let out a small gasp of joy when you come face to face with Akamaru, who lays curled up on the couch, depicting the epitome of comfort.

Scurrying to sit down next to the big pup and offering him your hand to sniff so that he can hopefully recognize you despite not seeing you in years, you begin to understand what Kiba had meant with the term ‘senior dog’ during your camping trip earlier.

Christ, he’s gotten so old.

“So, what do you think?” your best friend calls out from the hallway now. He’d gone there to hang up your jacket for you at first, but it seems like he’s also using the chance to turn off the lights as he goes. 

…As well as to run off into his room to change his fancy clothes for a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a simple T-shirt. Typical.

“It’s a nice place. Pretty spacious.” You’re too busy petting Akamaru, pretending you aren’t interested in him when he throws himself onto the couch right next to you, even if your body tenses up just the tiniest bit at the closeness.

You’ve already fucked him, for crying out loud — several times in the span of one night. What are you acting so damn nervous for?

“But?” he mumbles, seemingly not noticing the subtle change in your body language as he crosses his ankles and flicks on the television. 

“What do you mean but? There’s no but,” you chide in answer, still scratching the white canine behind the ears and really trying to put all your focus into the movement instead of the warmth of your best friend’s body that is slowly spilling into your side now. 

The brown patches in Akamaru’s fur have gotten dull in colour with old age. His eyes look tired and he’s also nowhere as lively as he used to be, though he still puts in the effort to give you an appreciative little wag of his tail when your fingers dig into the sweet spot that you remember is hiding underneath his chin. 

“There’s always a but with you,” Kiba insists, changing the channel yet again. He’s not paying attention to the TV, not really anyways, but he pretends that he does just so that you can breathe a little easier.

However, when you turn your head so that you can shoot him a glare for the sly remark, you catch him staring right back at you with that stupidly lovestruck smile playing on his lips.

Lowering your gaze, you try to act like it doesn’t cause butterflies to start fluttering inside your belly. Meanwhile, he tries to act like he can’t smell the sudden sweetness that the feeling evokes in your scent.

“Oh, fine.” You pause, ceasing the petting for a moment. “I suppose it could use a little bit of a woman’s touch here and there… And you definitely could’ve washed the dishes prior to inviting me, but that’s all.”

“For your information, I didn’t wash the dishes ‘cause it’s Kankuro’s turn to do ‘em,” he says. And grins. “And if the place really needs a woman’s touch as badly as you say it does, then you’re more than welcome to touch it all over.”

“Kankuro is your roommate, I take it?” you ask, choosing to skip over the thing he’s hinting at. The butterflies still continue to flutter, though.

“Yep,” Kiba replies, playing with the remote now. The symbol on the power button has long since faded out with use and it doesn’t surprise him really. Him and Kankuro had found the TV on Facebook Marketplace. Bought it so cheap that it felt like a steal.

You listen to the quiet click of claws as Akamaru slides off the couch and ventures down the hallway, aiming straight towards Kiba’s bedroom. He’s probably going to use the chance to hog up as much space on the bed as he possibly can before his owner can beat him to it. Smart dog.

“What’s he like?” you inquire. “This Kankuro guy?”

“He’s, you know… Kanks is just a regular dude as far as I’m concerned,” your best friend says, still staring at the remote. “Cleans up after himself and is good with Akamaru. He does that cosplayin’ shit from time to time, though… Paints his face for those anime conventions that you see online and stuff. It’s pretty dope.”

“Does he know about,” you trail off, making sure to lower your voice just in case, “you know… The whole howling at the moon thingy?”

“Fuck no.” Kiba shakes his head, his lips curling into a smile. “You, Hana and mom are still the only ones who know, but now I’m kind of starting to think that I should’ve kept it a family secret instead of telling your dorky ass about it… Howling at the moon thingy? What are ya; twelve?”

You stick your tongue out at him at the remark. He tries not to stare at it for too long.

“Say…” A couple of moments pass. Your gaze dips to your lap as you ask, “How come you never told Tamaki?”

The mention of his ex-girlfriend makes Kiba want to cringe. His smile falters, twitching downwards at the corners, but he forces it to remain at least semi-present despite the fact that you’re not looking at him. Either your hands must have become the most interesting thing in the world, or you’re ashamed for inquiring about his past relationships.

“Ah, you know,” he mutters after a short moment of silence. His tone sounds very distant out of the blue. “Just never found the right time for it, I suppose.”

You hum at his answer; just a little noise of acknowledgement. “You never found the time even after being with her for… several years?”

How could he, if it also meant having to explain that he was eternally tied to his best friend; the girl he’d always assured her that she shouldn’t be worried about?

Kiba gives a hard, obvious swallow, unable to stop his jaw from clenching a little. “Yeah.”

You pick at your nails, pretending there’s something underneath them in order to appear busy. “Do you miss her?”

“I, um… I think I used to, but I definitely don’t anymore.” He sees the dumbfounded look you give him now and scrubs a tired hand over his face. “I know it sounds awful when I put it like that, trust me, I know, but the bond between me and you doesn’t let me feel things like… that anymore. For other people, I mean. It’s just… It’s a bitch to explain.”

He had loved Tamaki. Perhaps he still does; in a way that would never be enough for her and that is considerably less than what she actually deserves, but after finally connecting with you, his mate, the mere thought of ever being intimate with someone else again repulses him greatly. 

He’d tried to make it work. To give her what she’d desired, deserved. Every embrace, kiss, conversation, trip, and so much more. However, you’d always been right there, sitting in the back of his mind during it all. And now that he’d gotten the chance to place his mouth on yours, and had tasted you, had been inside you, he feels so fucking stupid for even attempting to do such a thing in the first place.

It’s either you or nobody.

“So, anyway… Cosplay, huh?” you ask randomly, clearly trying to brush the heavy topic away despite being the one who initiated it. 

He blinks, slowly. “What about it?”

“You really think it’s cool?”

“Yes,” he snips all of a sudden. The change of tone makes you even more puzzled than you already are, especially when he adds, “Is it that hard to believe or somethin’?”

“Well… yeah,” you mumble while scratching your cheek. It’s a challenge to contain the surprise that tries to show on your face now; your eyebrows are insisting on rising up nearly to your hairline. “I mean, the Kiba I know would’ve straight up bullied a person like that.”

He blanches at your statement. “That was one time! I was just being honest with the poor suckers when I told them that carrying Yu-Gi-Oh! cards to school is the reason why they’re all still virgins… In fact, I was probably doing them a favour!”

“No,” you object. “You were being mean.”

“Then it’s a good thing that we’re not in high school anymore, I guess.” He flicks the remote onto a nearby pillow and crosses his arms behind his head before he says, “And just so you know, I’m not just some mean asshole that you constantly keep referring to me as. People can change. Myself included.”

“I didn’t–... I didn’t mean it like that,” you reply a bit too fast, feeling every blink your eyelids make. His gaze is unmoving from your face and it’s causing you to become hyper-aware of your body. “I know there’s more to you than just acting like a prick, come on. I wouldn’t be friends with you otherwise.”

He sighs in answer, his face tight. You do the same.

Awkwardness settles in.

“Uh,” you utter at some point, finally daring to look up at him again. “Want to tell me the reason why you like it, though?”

“Like what?” he asks dumbly.

“Cosplay.”

“Oh.” A brief second passes before he, at long last, chuckles. You’re relieved to see his shoulders sag a bit with it. “Well, if I’ve gotta pick one thing, I guess it’s ‘cause most of the chicks are dressed in those hot, skintight bodysuits?”

“Seriously?” A pang of jealousy resonates within you, but you do your best to repress it. It’s too early to be feeling all that. “That’s the best thing you can come up with? Girls in tight bodysuits?”

“No, I’m just messin’ with ya, hah…” He grins, but swallows thickly again and runs his fingers over the back of his head before he continues, “While those are nice, don’t get me wrong, I guess I really like it because it’s like Halloween, in a way?”

“Halloween?” you repeat, even more confused.

“Yeah.” He gives you a nod that could almost come across as sheepish. “Someone can dress up as something that’s supposed to be big and scary, and when people see it, they aren’t… Well, they aren’t afraid of it, necessarily? Instead they just think it’s cool and fun, you know?”

Finally, Kiba tears his gaze from your face, allowing it to settle onto his lap instead. Silence stretches between you once more as you continue to stare at him. Your head tilts to the side just as his drops lower, and you make the decision to reach out so that you can gently pat his knee in understanding.

Your entire body begins to glow from within when his hand rests atop your own. He traces your knuckles and gives them a gentle squeeze. The sensation is truly something you haven’t had the chance to experience before with anyone other than your best friend. There’s just so much nostalgia hiding in the small portrayal of affection.

The tone of your voice slips into something soft because of it, so soft that it comes across as barely above a whisper even to his sensitive wolf hearing when you ask, “I take it that that someone is you, in your… other form?” 

“What? No, I, uh… It’s not me.” He lets go of your hand to awkwardly clear his throat, trying to ignore the sudden ache that appears in it before he sits cross-legged and rests his elbows on his knees. 

By the time he’s ready to speak again, he’s already fiddling with his fingers. “Besides, even if I actually wanted to go, I still couldn’t. I’m far too big for that. Far too… scary-lookin’.”

He wants to though, you can see it bright as day. Can see that he’s tired of hiding a whole other half of himself — a half that he’ll unfortunately have to keep hidden for as long as he lives. Tired of making excuses and being overly cautious when he’s the exact opposite of it, and missing out on important events whenever they’re set on days following up to a full moon. Tired of receiving weird, uncomfortable glances whenever instinct takes over and his true nature pushes forward a bit too far past the barriers, when all he yearns for is to be liked.

Just… fed up with it all.

However, you also know that Kiba hates being perceived as vulnerable. So rather than moping with him and indulging his sadness and thus worsening it, you instead use the chance to snort and playfully nudge him in the shoulder. 

“Oh, yeah?” you say, making sure the lilt in your voice is overly noticeable. “Is that so?”

The nudge you give him makes him look up, as does the sudden change in your tone. At the sight of your friendly smile and the challenge simmering in your eyes, his expression eventually lightens to something a bit less stormy.

You’ll do just about anything to drag your best friend out of the bubble of melancholy that he’s surrounded himself with. 

And the best thing about it? You know that he would’ve done the same for you.

“Yeah,” he says, playing along now, albeit reluctantly. He’s still not quite where you want him exactly, but you’re getting there.

“Well, how big and scary are we talking, big boy?” you continue to inquire, wiggling your eyebrows. 

“I–” He snickers at your flirtatious prodding, rolling his eyes right afterwards. “Too big for anyone to handle,” he says, “and that includes you.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Can he truly get that big? You’ve never had the chance to see him turn full wolf yet, so his statement causes your stomach to fill with warmth. Heat travels downwards, over your thighs and between your legs, and you swear that you can hear him inhale a breath that’s slightly deeper than usual when it happens. 

The unannounced nerves are making you want to start pacing around the room, but you force your body to keep still.

“Well, you not believing me ain’t my problem, now is it?” he says, his smile suddenly wistful now. The light that comes from the TV makes his unnaturally big canines glimmer with moisture. It’s hard to not look at his mouth because of it. 

Words slightly wobbly, you manage to say, “I’m your mate, though.”

Mate. He perks up at the word, just like he always does, but his voice doesn’t make him sound particularly fazed as he utters, “And?”

“And that makes me your problem,” you explain, finally daring to move so that you can scratch your cheek again. It’s nothing more but an attempt at self-soothing. “Doesn’t it?”

You’re unsure why you’re pushing on this specific topic — especially after being the one who had once again suggested taking things slow in the first place — however, to be fair, you’ve been curious about it for a long while, even before you’d tangled yourself into this whole ‘bonded for life’ mess.

But now that the link has been revealed, the desire to lay your eyes on the unthinkable has become as potent as ever.

There is just something so undeniably appealing about the idea of seeing him in his werewolf form. Something thrilling in discovering the unknown; touching it with your hands and grazing it with the tips of your fingers. Something reassuring in accepting all of him, especially after he’d just partially trusted you with his insecurities revolving around this specific topic.

So yes, it’s either that, or it’s the newly discovered monsterfucker that’s been hiding inside you this whole time that’s talking and coaxing him into showing himself now. Or perhaps it’s both. Who knows?

You try to feign indifference to the best of your capability as you wait for his answer, even if every single inch of you is buzzing with relentless expectation. 

With bated breath that could very well match your own to perfection, Kiba inches ever so slightly closer, seemingly completely unintentionally. His gaze is laser-focused as he studies every feature that your face provides. The curve of your jaw, the shape of your lips, the colour of your eyes — he burns it all into memory before he at long last settles on the upper corner of your left cheek.

His burning stare causes your heart to pound faster than it normally would, and you know that he can hear it despite the fact that his ears are nowhere near your chest. Still, you insist on not moving a muscle. Insist on being brave.

“I’m too big for ya,” he says finally, gesturing over himself with his hand. “This is all you’re gonna get after you’re done playing the ‘takin’ it slow’ game with me.”

You bristle, clearly displeased with his answer. “But I’m–”

“It doesn’t work like that,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “Believe me, I wish it would, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re only human.”

“Humans can adapt! And being one, as you’ve so kindly pointed out, I’m pretty sure I can take it,” you object, heart still going thump, thump, thump! Something tells you that this isn’t just about cheering him up anymore. “Actually, I know I can.”

If he’s fucked you like a feral animal without transforming, how off the rails can he get if he doesn’t have anything holding him back anymore? 

You tense up when he gives you a harsh, almost derisive kind of laugh. Sit straighter when he says, “I’d tear you to shreds.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“The point is that I could.” The corners of his mouth twitch downwards at the horrible thought. “And that’s not something I’m willing to risk.”

You roll your eyes. “Since when are you one to say no to taking risks?”

“Since last week,” he replies. “Give or take.”

“You mean…?” A quick wave of heat washes over your face again. You went camping last week and he’d slipped into rut whilst sharing a tent with you; accidentally confessing everything that’s tied him to you ever since he’d first laid eyes on you all those years ago. 

He nods. “You’d be surprised how much being with a mate can change a wolf… I’m boring as fuck now.”

“But I don’t want you to change! I love you just the way you are,” you find yourself saying. The reason must be that last cocktail you persuaded yourself into ordering and eventually drinking. It’s untied your tongue like it’s nothing but a measly shoelace.

Nevertheless… 

Love.

Kiba’s breath hitches at the word, deeply-rooted emotions swelling within his broad chest, however he — very painfully — chooses not to ask to hear it again as soon as the subtle whiff of anxiety wafts over to his nose.

You’re embarrassed because of what you’ve just said. It makes his chest squeeze to the brink of pain.

“I mean–” you start, fumbling with your words. “I–”

“It’s okay,” he says, patting your knee as casually as he’s able despite the fact that the smile he gives you now seems just a smidge too tight. “I know what you meant. Now stop making it awkward or I’m gonna fucking lose it.”

Hyper-sensitive — his touch lights your skin on fire. His palm barely moves from its initial spot, but you can feel every callus to adorn his fingers, every minuscule stroke, as well as the reassuring squeeze that makes you want to straight up jump his bones.

And fuck, it’s nice. So nice, in fact, that it persuades you to stop him when he goes to pull his hand off your leg.

“Wait… don’t.”

“Mm?”

“You can touch me.” The words roll off your tongue before you can reel them back in again, but you still decide to put on your bravest front even if your upper lip is a second away from quivering.

Short-lived surprise crosses Kiba’s face. You watch with nervous eyes as his hand falters before it eventually settles on its original spot again. He grasps it more firmly this time. Squeezes with intent instead of reassurance.

There’s a beat of unsure stillness in the air before he brings himself to ask, “Like that?”

You give him a nod, feeling a little more confident while also paying mind not to be so tense. There are so many things you have to keep track of; god, why can’t you just relax and be more like him? Everything has to be so darn complicated whenever it comes to you! 

“Bunny,” he says, his tone still slightly unsure. “I thought I told you to stop making it awkward.”

Phantom lightning strikes your insides, melting them into liquid. “I’m not making it awkward.”

“‘Course you are. You’re completely stiff.” His grip tightens and it makes your eyes grow wide and your body turn even tenser in response. 

His own eyes aren’t their usual chocolate brown shade when he lifts his gaze to look at you again, but they sure are dark as sin. 

“See?” is all he says, a little out of breath. 

“I’m not,” you insist, the sentence completely useless. Your throat feels terribly dry all of a sudden. It makes your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth. “You’re just… imagining things.”

He quirks one brow. Repeats your challenge from earlier with the same tone, “Oh, yeah?” 

You bite your lip — a lame attempt to refocus. “Yeah.”

But before you know it, he uses one hand to shove you until you’re laying flat on your back, sinking deeper into the couch cushions, causing you to let out a little noise of startlement. 

His head pops into your field of vision as he hovers over you now. Aside from the light that comes from the TV, the room is shrouded in darkness. It makes only half of his face visible, however you can still see the glimmer of his teeth when he smiles down at you.

“You’re still sure about me imagining things?” he asks, clasping his fingers around the fat of your thigh. “‘Cause this is looking pretty real to me.”

“Y-yes,” you reply, challenging him further. “I’m sure.”

His grin turns wolfish as he drags his gaze over your somewhat disheveled form. Across both of your collarbones, now exposed due to the thin spaghetti straps of your dress slipping off your shoulders slightly, as well as the rising hem that’s slowly showing off more and more of your legs.

He’s looking at you like he’s planning to eat you. But rather than digging in, all he does is sneer as he says, “Brave words for someone who oddly resembles a plank right now.”

Well… that certainly wasn’t what you were expecting.

“Fuck you,” you drawl in answer, a mere hint of disappointment crossing your features — disappointment you’ll never admit to feeling. Urging your body to relax once more just so that you can prove him wrong, you instead try to focus on calming down your breathing.

However, it’s hard to do so when your best friend is literally on top of you, watching you with hungry eyes and the most complacent of smiles. Hard to do so when his fingers are now toying with the string that ties the front of your dress together and holds your tits in place. Hard to do so when—

A small gasp escapes your lips when he jabs you in the side all of a sudden.

The bridge of your nose scrunches in annoyance. When you try to stop him from repeating the action, he just takes you by the wrist and uses the chance to pin it above your head. “Don’t do that.”

“Or what?” He huffs a laugh at your weak attempt to fight back. Pokes you in the side again, making you whine. “What are you gonna do ‘bout it, hmm?” 

You don’t say anything as you squirm underneath him, trying to break free from his grip, but your efforts are to no avail. He’s got you locked in tight; has even made sure to pin your other hand the same way he did the first one when you tried to use it to push him in the chest.

“C’mon, bunny,” he taunts, his smile growing, growing, growing. Gosh, he really is such a wolf, isn’t he? “Is that really the best you can do?”

“No, it’s just not fair,” you say, trying to tame your pulse. The position you’ve wound up in is making your mind wander to all sorts of things. Dirty things.

“What’s not fair?” he asks, rubbing his thumb across your wrist.

“The fact that you’re so much stronger than me and expect me to throw you off like it’s nothing,” you mumble, huffing as you look up at the spot where he’s pressing down on your wrists. “I mean, how am I supposed to do anything, when you can hold me down with just one hand?”

The way his pupils widen with obvious excitement at your statement should concern you, but you know better than to think that he’d ever actually hurt you. It’s just the predator in him playing. A side he cannot stop from slipping into the spotlight every so often. A side he feels safe enough to share with you.

He likes being described as big and overpowering. Call it a guilty pleasure.

“Try using your legs,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with want. You can still distinguish the smile in it though. “I heard bunnies are supposed to have quite a kick to ‘em.”

“I’m not an actual bunny, shut up,” you fuss, but do exactly as he says. You kick your legs…

…and end up wrapping them around his waist instead.

Flustered warmth sears your face, neck and chest all over again as your ankles lock on the small of his back seemingly by their own accord. The skirt of your dress hikes up with the movement, exposing more of your thighs; offering him a glimpse of your cutesy underwear that you didn’t think twice about wearing because you weren’t planning on starting anything with him tonight.

And yet here you are.

The rise in temperature that you’re feeling all over blazes into something more profound now. Heat gathers in your stomach. Your legs. Between them, too. Anticipation tightens your skin, bringing the blood that runs underneath it to an angry simmer.

Kiba’s smile slowly fades when he senses the particular tension that now riddles the air around you. You stare at each other even if it’s hard for you and easy for him. For fuck’s sake, it feels like he’s burning holes into your fucking forehead when he looks at you like that.

“What is it?” you ask, nerves working overtime. “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”

“You smell so fucking good when you’re turned on, did you know that?” he rasps in answer, completely ignoring your question and pitiful attempt at diffusing the situation. His nose is already leading him to that very tender spot hiding in the crook of your neck.

You flinch when he nudges your jawline, silently asking you for permission to give him more space. Not trusting the lump of nervosity that’s taken up residency inside your throat to not betray you all of a sudden, you allow it wordlessly and by angling your head slightly to the right.

“Your scent is so… I can smell how wet your cunt is even from here, god,” he trails off without an ounce of shame, every word lower and lower in tone. He takes another deep breath. Savours it with a soft groan. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart.”

Embarrassment flashes through you like lightning does a stormy sky. The realization that he can immediately pick up on the scent of your arousal — as well as the aftermath that the ability brings — is overwhelming. 

It makes your heart thrum even faster than it did before. Consequently, your thoughts are now nothing more but a jumbled mess as you desperately attempt to tame your pulse back into a rhythm that’s normal instead of completely erratic.

But it’s not just you who’s having a hard time. The muscles in Kiba’s arms have gone completely stiff and his inhales are deep and audible instead of calm. He only pauses them to press cautious little kisses over your neck, most of which he eventually starts mixing with even smaller nips with the help of his teeth.

You’re pouring with sweat because of it. His apartment is warm, too warm even if it didn’t feel like that before, and his mouth is hot just like his tongue is as it repeatedly presses against your sweet spot. The action even causes goosebumps to appear all over your arms and legs. Great.

“Relax,” he mumbles, the tip of his nose practically smushed against your neck. “We’ve done this before.”

“What makes you think that we’ll do it again?” you hiss, fighting tooth and nail to appear authoritative. It doesn’t come off as strongly as you want it to, though.

“Call it a hunch,” he says, unable to resist a smirk. “Or whatever.”

Your lips remain a firm line. Unimpressed. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Sure am,” he trails off with a lazy grin as his fingers brush the side of your neck. He looks at you. And winks. “You can be too, if you wanna. Full of me, I mean.”

“N-no?! The hell,” you splutter out, squirming even more. Sly motherfucker, damn him. “I thought I told you-”

“Relax! C’mon,” he repeats, huffing another laugh. “You know damn well that I’m just fucking with you, sorry, messing… No need to lecture me all the time.”

You roll your eyes. “You say that as if you can actually be lectured in the first place.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Did it ever cross that naggy mind of yours that I don’t listen to you because I don’t want to, and not because I can’t?”

“Oh yeah, many times,” you reply, glaring at him. “Drives my naggy mind crazy.”

He muses like a satisfied cat at your statement. “You drive me crazy.”

“Stop hitting on me!” Your entire face scrunches up in annoyance. “Sweet talking isn’t gonna get you laid.”

“Then what will?” He drags his tongue along your pulse point. Blows air on the trail of saliva so that he can watch you writhe at the cold sensation to overcome you, then. “You want me to chase you around a lil’ bit first? Play a little game of prey versus predator with ya to get you to sit on my dick tonight?”

A small groan of agitation is the best you can do when it comes to answering his taunting.

“Or do you want me to really work for it, hmm, bunny?” His grip tightens around your wrists. As if to serve as a reminder. “Even though, judging by how you’re lookin’ right now, I could just take it all for myself either way?”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. “You wouldn’t.”

His upper lip curls, revealing those sharp canine teeth again. “Yeah, you’re right. I wouldn’t.” 

But he could.

Still, your breaths continue to intermingle. Doubt gets overridden by lust. Hands explore; one pair of them courageous as it can be, the other perfectly timid in contrast. The former even uses that courage to hike the hem of your dress up to your waist, completely exposing your lower half amidst all the grinding and writhing that’s slowly, but surely, coming into fruition. 

Kiba looks like he’s already won as he leers between your legs with that obnoxiously knowing glint in his eye and the equally as infuriating half-smile. 

He seems to be aware that you’re trying your absolute hardest not to react to the obvious bulge that’s in his sweatpants now. That you’re trying to ignore the rushing thrill that surges through you whenever he presses it against your traitor of a cunt — which still hides under the plain cotton panties you apparently swore you wouldn’t let him see tonight.

So he pushes it against you again. And again. Applying pressure, rubbing, testing out the playing field, waiting for you to tell him to stop. 

You don’t though. No, all you do is bite your lip in order to suppress the moan that’s impatiently waiting behind your clenched teeth and wiggle your hips whenever the hot contact strikes.

“Fuck, you’re so cute.” He can’t hide how entertained he is as he mumbles, “You want my cock? ‘Cause I’ll more than gladly give it to ya.”

A low hiss slips past your lips when his hard-on manages to bump your clit over the layers of clothes. It makes your brows furrow and your legs squeeze around his waist even tighter. 

“I didn’t–” You pause to close your eyes and inhale a rather wobbly breath. By the time you open them again, he’s already staring right back. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to,” he says, his own eyes flashing with what you think could be pride. “I can already tell from how fuckin’ soaked you are... Look.”

He reaches down between you then, running a single knuckle down your clothed slit. Your hips buck in answer to the touch almost immediately; the damp patch that’s formed on your underwear now turning more noticeable, shaping the outline of your pussy even further.

It makes him yearn to tug your panties to the side so that he can feel the slick coating his fingers before he can push them into your tight little hole, but he knows you’ll cause a fuss and close up on him if he moves even a smidge too quickly for your liking.

Still, the sight nearly makes him drool. His cock twitches. Starts to physically ache with need. It’s not as bad as it was during his rut last week, but fuck… this entire stage of foreplay and trying to lure you into pound town could be a close second, he can’t lie.

“Do you always get this wet whenever someone touches you,” he finds himself asking, “or is all of this just f’me?”

He hopes it’s the latter. Wants it so bad. The mere thought of someone else seeing you like this, touching you, spreading their scent all over you, claiming you, loving you… He’d let you go if you wanted to be with someone other than him, he’s told you so before, but that doesn’t mean that he’d be particularly happy about it.

Actually, he’d be quite miserable. Excruciatingly so.

You give him a pointed glare, face stern. He’s received the same look from you so many times over the years that he’s grown to love it, but you don’t fail to notice how his smile tightens with each passing moment that he waits for you to answer his question.

“Well?” he pushes, unable to resist. His eyes are getting more yellow by the second and his teeth are getting bigger. It makes his voice sound gruff as he says, “Who’s it for, bunny, mm?”

“I’m not telling you,” you say quietly, trying to make sense of all the emotions that are swelling up inside your chest now.

It’s a challenge to do so when they’ve been continuously swept under the rug for years on end and have only just recently been brought back into the open, though. When you’re unsure where your friendship stands. When you don’t even know if the love that your best friend feels for you is actually genuine, or if it’s just a thing that’s been forced forward solely because of the mating bond that eternally connects him to you.

You can’t help but wonder: would he still love you the same way he loves you now even if you weren’t his mate? If he were nothing more but a simple human, unable to connect with someone on such a deep biological level. Would he still fall for you — his best friend?

Or would he still be with his now ex-girlfriend, surely renting an apartment with her and exchanging doting glances and smiles during breakfast every morning, mind completely free from you the second you’d leave for college after every summer?

Would he even be your friend?

What if you’re just a burden to him?

“Hey.”

The sudden pinch that you receive to your left cheek tugs you out of your inner turmoil that has come to plague you all of a sudden.

Kiba’s eyebrows are cinched tight when you blink up at him. A small wrinkle of worry etches into his forehead and continues to deepen with the heavy silence to surround you. Even his jaw seems to be set firmly in place. 

Instead of hot and bothered, he just looks plain worried now despite the gleam of sweat on his brow and the almost sex hair.

“Mm?” is all you decide to let out whilst rubbing your wrists that he’s since let go of.

“You okay?” he asks, choosing to stroke your cheek instead of pinching it this time around. The pads of his fingers are rough, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. “You’ve completely zoned out on me just now.”

“I’m fine,” you say, despite that your chest remains feeling unbearably tight. The urge to touch it as a means to console yourself is hard to suppress, however you’re well aware that it’d just cause him to worry even further. “Sorry.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you smell kind of sad all of a sudden,” he mumbles, wolf eyes still zeroing in on you. He’s following every minuscule movement you make and it’s unnerving. “And I don’t know about you, but that definitely ain’t a thing a dude would want his girl to feel when he’s planning on sinking balls deep into her.”

“Sad?” you repeat, ignoring the lewd comment even if it makes you feel tingly between your legs. His cock, albeit not as hard anymore, is still persistently pressing against your pussy.

“Yeah,” he says. “Kind of like rain.”

This fascinates you. Your expression lightens as a result. “You mean like petrichor?”

He gives you somewhat of a dumb look, biting the inside of his cheek. “What?”

“Never mind, it’s just something dorky we learned in school,” you say, chuckling faintly at the confused puzzlement that now sits on his face. “Forget I said anything.”

He doesn’t respond, so you sigh, running your palm over the side of your neck he’d just been kissing a moment prior. The skin there is still warm. Tender. It makes you shiver when your fingers graze it.

“C’mon, what’s wrong?” he mutters, still eyeing you just as intensely as before. “I can tell whenever something’s bothering you… Spit it out.”

“Nothing is bothering me, okay? Gosh,” you try to reassure him, but still turn your head to the side to stare at the television. 

The movie he’d put on earlier is already halfway through and you doubt he has the option to rewind it. Oh, well.

Watching you dismiss the entire thing, Kiba looks like he’s about to fight you on it, surely getting ready to accuse you of being a liar like he’s had a habit of playfully doing in the past. However, just when his mouth pops open to say the words, you prevent him from doing so by pressing both of your palms on his front and gathering up his T-shirt between your fingers.

He stills only for a second before he starts to push out his chest at your touch, puffing up with male-like bravado as he goes. His shoulders square up. His eyes flash with that sublime yellow colour. And you might be imagining the whole thing at this point, but you swear that even his scent grows stronger in intensity. 

The entire room is engulfed by that signature amber scent now. You peer up at him once more, mind slightly hazy and astounded.

But besides the astonishment, you also feel… soothed. Kind of.

Burden or no burden, he’s down bad for you all the same, isn’t he? 

“What is it now?” he grumbles in answer to the wide look in your eyes. “You’re starin’ at me all weird-like again.”

You swallow the saliva that’s gathered in your mouth for what must be the millionth time tonight. It’s runny and thin, laced with adrenaline. “Are you courting me right now?”

“Huh?” His face twists into a look of pure confusion for a second time in a row.

“You’re pushing your chest out like a bird during one of those mating dances that you see on TV,” you explain, tugging on his T-shirt as if it’ll help you prove your point. “Are you trying to impress me or something?”

“Tsch… What? No... It’s just, ah… The fuck?” He blinks, shaking his head as if he’s trying to get his thoughts in order. His back hunches slightly with the action. You’ve caught him completely off guard.

You smile. “What is it, then?”

“It’s just my body reacting to a mate’s touch, damn… I told you about it in the woods last week, didn’t I? What’s with all the questions all of a sudden?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth once more, apparently unaffected by what you have to say, but also immediately draws back; causing distance until he’s lying between you and the backrest of the couch instead of on top of you. 

You’re not aware of it, but he’s beginning to blush like a sucker after he realizes how that treacherously primal part of his brain had made him react just now — fully without his knowledge.

Trying to appear bigger and wooing you with his scent? What are you, animals? Besides, you aren’t even capable of distinguishing pheromones like he can, for fuck’s sake! What’s he doing all of this weird shit for?!

This time, heat continues to climb up Kiba’s neck instead of yours, and overtakes his entire face with such speed that it makes his cheeks itchy. Even the tips of his ears have turned hot to the touch. He feels like he’s on the verge of melting into a puddle of despair any second now.

Gosh, you must think he’s such a loser.

He doesn’t say anything else as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer until your back is pressed against his chest, feeling slightly relieved to not hear any protests from your side. 

But to some extent, he’s not all that surprised. While you might be taking this entire thing slow, spooning is nothing new. You’ve done it even whilst you were both desperately trying to keep your friendship as something purely platonic instead of whatever it is now. So when you compare it to all the grinding that you did just now, this is angel city.

His voice is barely above a sheepish murmur as he says, “Whatever… Let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”

You don’t mention that the film is nearing its end and that you’ve already seen it in theaters a couple months ago with your friends from college. Nor the fact that you found his little portrayal of desire — as well as the feeling of embarrassment that followed it afterwards — outright adorable and that it helped ease your worries a little bit.

No, all you do is snuggle up closer to him and nod your head yes.

———

Summer passes by quickly when you’re reunited with your best friend again.

If you had to describe the last couple of months with one word, it’d be nostalgic. During the days when he’s off work and you’re not busy with your family, Kiba makes sure to take you on a trip down memory lane one way or another. 

On some evenings, you drop by the small convenience store that you used to constantly occupy as kids, so that you can buy popsicles and then sit on a bench in the nearby park; taking turns licking the different flavours and talking late into the night, or at least until the artificial colouring has been wiped away from your tongues. 

On particularly hot days, you drive to the lake where you’ve both been taught how to swim by your parents in order to cool off, and compete to see who's able to hold their breath the longest. He ends up being the winner almost every time, of course, and never misses the chance to rub it in your face.

You even still do shitty movie marathons, however this time they’re occasionally accompanied by Kiba’s roommate, Kankuro, who you’ve since learned is a pretty cool guy, despite his slightly odd obsession with purple face paint. He’s also the one who’d helped you bake Kiba’s birthday cake back in July.

All in all, things concerning your best friend have remained quite the same as they’ve always been. Well, most of them did.

There may have been a couple of changes here and there ever since you’ve learned you were his mate. 

Some are pretty tame. For example, you can’t brush over the look of pure longing that appears in his eyes as he watches you lick a rogue droplet of sugar whenever you’re sucking on the popsicle he’d just handed you. Or the way his touch lingers on your shoulders and traces down your spine and hips when you ask him to help you apply sunscreen on your back after your swim.

But then there are some of the more twisted kind. Sometimes, whenever Kankuro can’t make it to your movie marathons, you also can’t ignore the way your best friend sighs and grunts and whispers the nastiest of profanities into the side of your neck as you sit on his lap and rub your clothed pussy against the hard-on in his pants.

It’s always done the same way. On his couch, in the dark, and never talked about afterwards since it tends to make you both agitated with even more lust. Your skirt is bunched up in his too-big hands — you’re always making sure they don’t go any farther than that because they try, oh boy, do they try — and there are zero kisses exchanged between you in order to keep things moving slow but still giving him the fix he needs so that he doesn’t slip into another unannounced rut, as he likes to call it.

So far, your compromise shows promise. Over the span of the last couple of weeks, there had only been one single occasion of actual skin on skin contact; when he’d somehow managed to distract you for long enough to pull your panties to the side and pull out his cock from the confines of his clothes without you being quick enough to stop him. 

However, much to his — and secretly your own — misfortune, you’d been mewling his name and rubbing your pussy against him for a long while back then, consequently overstimulating him to great, almost unfair lengths in the process. The second his cockhead had gotten the chance to bump against your soaked entrance, he was not bound to last. 

So he’d spilled everything he had with a sharp hiss and a frustrated “fuuuck” and just like that, you were safe from being pounded into oblivion once again — if you exclude the sticky, cloudy white mess splattering between your thighs, that is.

And that was that.

But now, with summer coming to a swift end and a new school year waiting right around the corner, the time has come for you to say goodbye to your best friend once again.

Kiba accompanies you to the airport and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug when it’s time for you to board your flight, his features unusually impassive during the entirety of it. He leans down to kiss your cheek, surely receiving curious glances from your parents with the act, and mumbles something about texting him when you land so that he knows you’re safe.

You do as he asks of you when you arrive to campus that day, even going as far as to send him a picture of your little student apartment that you share with two other roommates, jokingly calling it a dump. He reads your text message almost instantly, but his reply is curt. When you call him to say good night after you’ve finished unpacking your stuff and settling in, you barely recognize the sound of his voice.

“G’night,” he mutters. “Try not to be a dumbass on your first day.”

The jab is meant to be playful, but instead it comes across as void of any kind of emotion whatsoever. Flat and unlively. You can tell even if he desperately tries to cover it up with more teasing remarks and lame jokes. 

It gets better over time, though. You’re well aware that he’s handling the distance way worse than any other regular human would, especially since he’s a semi-mated wolf now, so you try to keep him in the loop as often as you can. He, on the other hand, tries to give you space and keeps his more possessive side on a tight leash. His main priority is to make your friendship — or should you say situationship — work.

Speaking of his more possessive side, you’ve both made precautions to lessen the chance of the beast within him from going haywire. He makes sure to go completely off the grid during a full moon, and every so often, you mail him a T-shirt or two so that he still has a way of inhaling your scent and thus satisfying the urge to come seek you out. After the scent fades out, he sends your clothes back washed, but not ironed; typical for a man like him, before the cycle repeats itself again.

He’d once, jokingly, not so jokingly, texted you about sending him a pair of your panties instead, however all he got in response to that was an angry wall of text and a series of pissed off-looking emojis. He’d abandoned the idea soon after.

You do indulge him with phone sex from time to time, though. And while you do keep telling yourself that it’s done solely to keep him in-check, deep down, you know that that simply isn’t the case. 

Because when the hour is late, Kiba likes to remind you just how badly he misses you in that warm, rich, confident voice that makes your back want to straight up arch from the bed. Likes to talk about all the things that he wants to do to you with zero hesitance — hesitance you wish you, yourself didn’t have — while he strokes his cock; all until you find yourself reaching into the drawer of your nightstand so that you can hurriedly press your trusty pink vibrator to your clit. 

But it’s not just you who finds him hot — your roommates do, too. They’ve peered over your shoulder once or twice while you were FaceTiming him in the kitchen, fully clothed, of course, and have since been asking for regular updates on your so-called ‘boyfriend’, wondering when they’ll get to meet the guy who’s actually managed to swipe the rug from underneath your feet, in person.

And the answer is: on Halloween. They’ll meet him on Halloween.

———

Oddly enough, Kiba seems to fit right into the college party scene, despite never pursuing a degree of his own.

After successfully planning out his visit together, you realize that the frat house that you’ve dragged him to in order to celebrate this year’s Halloween in, is packed with people; some of them in costumes, while the rest have decided to go for a more casual approach. 

Dressed in jeans, the same faded baseball cap that you saw him wearing back when you’d bumped into him in the grocery store at the beginning of summer, and a simple T-shirt and flannel combo, your best friend doesn’t particularly stand out amongst the latter. 

He’d landed this morning, grinning tiredly and with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. You nearly started bursting at the seams with joy the second you caught sight of him halfway across the airport. He wasn’t much better.

Hugging out all your emotions first, you then spent the entire day catching up, as well as healing the phantom wounds that the distance had caused. It was nice. So nice, in fact, that you’d almost forgotten how easy and complicated it was at the same time with him.

And now here you are. Together again.

Eyes glimmering with fondness, you watch as he leisurely chats with your friends who he’d already gotten to meet back at the apartment. As is expected for an extrovert like Kiba, he has no problem keeping up with the conversation. 

His body language is relaxed even when he has to lie about wearing yellow contacts; swiftly feigning that it’s because he wants to keep the spirit of Halloween alive and because he, of course, couldn’t possibly have brought a full costume with him to the airport. 

Meanwhile, you’re well aware that his reasoning couldn’t be farther from the truth. His eyes had shifted from their regular brown shade the second he’d caught you emerging from the bathroom, dressed in a pair of tight jeans and with a bunny ears headband sitting atop your head — a rather mediocre choice of a costume, but one that you knew he’d dig nonetheless.

“What, no heels?”

“Have you seen the floor of a frat house before?”

“No.”

“Well, you’re going to now, and then you’re going to understand why I chose normal girl shoes.”

While riddled with mischief at your answer, his eyes haven’t gone back to normal since.

And neither has he. No, instead he had spent a good twenty minutes scenting you in the privacy of your little bedroom; embracing you and running his rough hands up and down your arms and sides, touching your neck and face all over until you were almost late to the party and glittery highlighter coated every last one of his fingers.

“You do realize that normal people don’t have a heightened sense of smell like you do, right?” you’d grumbled by the fourth repetitive stroke, making a face when he even went as far as to lean in and start rubbing his cheek against your own. “Nobody is going to be like, ‘Woah, watch out! This one smells like werewolf property!’ if I get kidnapped or something.”

The laughter-like sound he’d let out had come across as terribly jeering. “You say that like anyone would even have a chance of forcibly taking you away from me.” 

With a soft incline of your head, you had asked, “Wouldn’t they?”

“‘Course not, you silly bunny.” He’d looked you right in the eyes then, his pupils briefly thinning into feline-like slits, allowing the apex predator within to shine on through. “I’d rip out their throats with my teeth before they’d even get a chance to blink. Easy as pie.” 

His gaze had been shiver-inducing. The words even more so. “But what if there would be like… ten of them?”

“I can take on ten people.”

“You can barely handle me whenever I’m in a lousy mood.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that you don’t count, then.” The grin he’d given you in return had been sharp. Too sharp, despite the cutesy dimple digging into his cheek. Especially as he held your face between his palms and purred, “Also, you’re not my property, you’re my mate. It’s supposed to make us equals, so please try to act like one for my sake, yeah?”

And they said romance was dead.

“Yeah.” Attempting to not pay attention to the butterflies that were wildly fluttering in your stomach again, all you managed was, “Equals who are going to be late.”

“Shit.” His eyes got wide as saucers at that. He’d given one last stroke, one last squeeze, and had pressed a hasty kiss onto your forehead before saying, “Okay, I think I’m done... Ready when you are.”

You’re unsure if it’s placebo, but you think his scent still clings to you even two hours later, when the party is in full swing and you’re chatting away with one of your guy friends in the kitchen.

Besides said friend, there are only two other people in the room — none of which you can recognize, from the way they’re too busy eating face only a few meters away from you. Kiba, reluctant to leave your side despite your many reassurances, had somehow gotten dragged into a round of beer pong by a group of rowdy jocks.

Every so often, you can hear cheering coming from one of the rooms nearby. You don’t doubt that he’s acquired quite a crowd for himself already. His dream and your worst nightmare.

“So, what’s the deal with you and the dunce?”

Blinking at the sudden question that whisks away your brain fog, you look up from your plastic cup of cranberry juice that others have been using to mix their cheap vodka with. Not feeling like taking the risk of being hungover because of particularly shitty booze the next morning, you’d decided to stay sober tonight, hence the juice.

“Sorry, what?” you ask. “I wasn’t listening.”

Your friend, Shikamaru Nara is his name, looks at you with signature exasperation at having to repeat himself again. 

“I was asking about your… friend,” he mutters after a brief pause, using the second chance of you not hearing the initial jab. 

“Oh, you mean Kiba?” you say, bringing the cup up to your lips. “Yeah, what about him?”

“Are you hooking up with him?”

The sip of cranberry juice you’d just taken lodges itself into the back of your throat at the question. It hurts like a bitch as you fight to swallow it down, unable to resist squeezing your eyes shut at the sensation, however you manage to avoid sputtering and coughing yourself into embarrassment by the end of it.

Clearing your throat as discreetly as you can, your voice sounds slightly hoarse when you ask, “Why do you ask that?”

Shikamaru, without missing a beat, says, “I dunno, he just looks at you like he’s planning on eating you or something. It’s odd.”

You glance up at the man that’s leaning against the kitchen counter next to you, noticing how the whites of his eyes are red instead of as the name suggests. His pupils are so big and round and hazy that they remind you of a cat looking around in the dark. He seems to be so high that he doesn’t have a problem with saying whatever is on his mind.

Either that, or he simply doesn’t give a shit. Both are valid reasonings whenever it comes to him.

“Kiba’s just… protective,” you manage to say after a brief moment of thought, shoulders shrugging. “He’s been like that ever since I can remember.”

Shikamaru’s eyebrow raises at this piece of information. “Even when you were kids?”

“Oh, yeah.” You nod vehemently. “Back then, it was even more intense than it is now, I think. You should have seen him playing a friendly game of dodgeball when we were in high school.”

‘HEY! AIM THAT BALL AT HER HEAD AGAIN, AND I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL SMASH YOUR FUCKING TEETH IN NEXT, YOU LOUSY FUCK!’

The memory makes the corners of your lips curl upwards. You’re quick to hide the smile behind the rim of the cup.

“Hm.” Shikamaru hums, puffing out a tired sigh that you’ve had the pleasure of hearing countless of times ever since meeting him during your first year of college.

“What is it?” you inquire.

“Nothing,” he replies. “Just thinking.”

“You’re always doing that,” you say. “Thinking.”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he answers, giving you a lazy grin that doesn’t seem to reach his dark brown eyes.

You huff a laugh at the tease. “And what is it that you’re thinking about with that brilliant brain of yours, Megamind?”

“Stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Yeah.”

You turn to look at him, using the chance to drag your gaze over his side profile. Over his high cheekbones, as well as the sharp outline of his nose. The cigarette that’s tucked behind his ear. The slight wrinkle between his eyebrows that tells you he’s thinking very hard about something.

A couple of loose strands of dark brown hair have escaped his ponytail, framing his face in a way that flatters him greatly. Being so dark, they’re a perfect contrast to his creamy skin that’s so unlike Kiba’s sun-kissed one.

Come to think of it, they’re nothing alike. Shikamaru is lean in build despite being awfully lazy by nature, whereas Kiba packs muscle with hard work. He’s smart, rational, not at all prone to anger, and can sometimes come across as borderline aloof. 

Besides a couple of other things, all he seems to care about is putting in the minimal amount of effort when it comes to getting by in school, so that he can achieve mediocre — but passable — grades, and thus has nothing left to worry about by the time the weekend rolls around and the bong comes out to play.

His tendency to be overly laid-back was the exact reason why you had decided to go out of your comfort zone and fool around with him last spring. With no strings attached, you’d fucked while still managing to remain friends afterwards. Besides that, he was such a perfect opposite to the man you’d left behind in your hometown, that it had almost been a, dare you say, refreshing experience.

But Kiba never did go fully away, now did he? Not even after you’d completely ghosted him and finally ceased stalking him on Instagram; trying to rid yourself of the sinking feeling in your chest that appeared whenever he posted a picture with his girlfriend at the time. Not even after you’d deleted the chat logs you shared with him on just about every app you could find, knowing you’d regret it afterwards. Not even when you’d left the pictures and other memories back at home, sealed away in a box underneath your bed.

You’d been sleeping with the deer while silently yearning for the wolf.

It’s why you broke the entire thing off with Shikamaru sometime after the New Year, aiming to rather try and move on solely by your own efforts — fresh start and everything. All whilst not knowing that you’d become a mate to your childhood best friend by the end of summer.

“Shika,” you utter, your gaze as soft as your voice. “I–”

“It’s okay. I think I got the gist of it,” he cuts in, staring at his shoes. “Whatever it is that you two have going on between you; it’s older than what we had. So, it’s more… fleshed out? From being best friends since kindergarten and stuff.”

“Yeah.” You sigh, angling your cup so that you can take the last sip of your drink. “I guess it is, when you say it like that.”

Shikamaru reaches out to wipe away the rogue droplet of cranberry juice that comes sliding down from the corner of your mouth, then. However, before his thumb can even make contact with your bottom lip, you’re quick to do it yourself.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” a voice calls out from your left.

Kiba’s jaw is set and his eyes are hard when you turn to look at him. He stands in the middle of the doorway that leads into the hall; the light that’s shining behind his back obscuring most of his face from view, however you can still see that he forces his expression to remain fairly neutral as he begins to approach you. 

Every step he takes towards you makes you feel like it could make the ground shake. It doesn’t of course, at least not in a physical kind of sense, but his anger is becoming so palpable the closer he gets that it very much could. For some reason, it’s even worse that he’s trying to hide how pissed he is.

After all, Kiba is prone to anger that resembles a wildfire — the kind that spreads quickly and consumes everything in its path. Once it’s started, it’s hard to make it fizzle out before it does too much damage. You just have to let it do its thing and pretend like everything is normal.

Burn, baby, burn!

“No,” you say when he reaches you, pretending like the entire ordeal doesn’t faze you at all, despite the fact that your heart is now pulsating wildly in your chest. “You aren’t.”

You’re well aware that he wouldn’t hurt you, but that doesn’t mean the others are safe.

He stands before you like a wall of muscle, emitting white-hot rage with every exhale. With how tense his shoulders have gotten, as well as the bulging vein in the side of his neck that’s surely there because of how harshly he’s gritting his teeth, he looks like he could crush someone to death. 

However, his touch ends up being surprisingly tender when you allow him to grip you by the chin. You repress a relieved chuckle as he angles your head back slightly, making you realize that he’s touching the exact same spot Shikamaru would have if you’d let him. So possessive.

His brow furrows as he inspects you and his voice is rough as gravel as he says, “Why are your lips so red?”

“Cranberry juice,” you explain, pointing to the empty cup you’re still holding in your hand. “How did beer pong go?”

“It sucked ass,” he drawls, tugging on the brim of his hat with impatient fingers. The fireball of anger keeps on sizzling in the pit of his stomach. It makes his blood run hot. “The two dudes I went against were both so shit-faced that they could barely stand, much less score... I regret being sober.”

“Weren’t you drinking before, though?” Shikamaru asks all of a sudden.

Uh-oh. At the sound of the Nara’s voice, you watch as he slowly turns his head to the side in the same uncanny way a robot would have done.

Kiba looks the other man right in the eye, making a quick mental note to keep both of his arms glued to his sides in order to refrain himself from swinging just because he even had the balls to speak up while he was talking to you.

Jesus fucking Christ, since when did his temper get this short? He needs to work on it in the future or else it’s going to become a problem.

“Beer doesn’t do much for a guy like me,” he grits out after a brief moment of recollecting himself.

His tone is completely flat. Icy. 

You stare at the muscle that keeps on fluttering in his cheek even if he’s trying his hardest to tame it. At how yellow his eyes have gotten, nearly glowing in the dimly-lit kitchen, threatening to ruin the ruse of being contacts. At the way his chest heaves; rising up and down in such a manner that it makes you fear he’s seconds away from pouncing.

Shikamaru, being the intelligent man that he is, must have come to the same conclusion, because now he pushes from the counter with an awkward bounce in his step as he says, “Well, I guess it’s time for my smoke break… If you’ll excuse me.”

Either that, or the more primal part of his brain is telling him to get the fuck out before it’s too late. It’s so bad that even the make out enthusiasts proceed to follow his example.

“Bye, Shika,” you utter quickly, giving your fellow classmate a small wave when he passes by. Meanwhile, Kiba only stares, probably drilling warning holes into the poor guy’s back all the way to the very end of the hall.

Alone in the kitchen at long last, your best friend allows himself to sigh as a means to relieve some tension. The muscles in his arms relax as he rests them on either side of you, successfully trapping you against the counter.

You don’t feel caged, though. That’s the important part.

Led by that comforting feeling, you place the cup onto the counter before reaching out to carefully stroke him over the chest. “You okay?”

“No,” he grumbles, trying not to preen right in front of you at the touch. 

Your eyebrows draw together. “What’s wrong?”

His do, too. “You know damn well what’s wrong.”

“Enlighten me, please.”

“Not that it’s a you problem or anything…” He sighs again and this time the sound is way longer than earlier. “But I can’t leave ya alone for two seconds without someone immediately trying to sneak their way into your pants.”

“What?” The laugh you let out is a slightly incredulous one. “I know that you’re forced to see me in some kind of holy light because of the mating bond, but you’re seriously flattering me way too much with this one, Kiba.”

“Well, it’s the truth,” he says, his lips thinning into a firm line. “What do you think that the douchebag with the cig and the big-ass forehead was tryin’ to do just now? Ask you to join his debate club?”

You push aside the insult for now, making a note to prohibit him from saying it aloud whenever you’re in the company of others. “His name is Shikamaru.”

“I don’t care what his name is,” Kiba says, bristling. “All I know is that I could smell how hard his dick was getting around you from a mile away, and it made me-”

“Jealous?” you cut in.

He frowns. “I was gonna say grossed out, but sure.”

You giggle before biting your lip to stop the sound. “Come to think of it, that does sound pretty gross, you’re right.”

“Whatever.” He huffs, lowering his gaze. It’s not long before there’s an even deeper frown gracing his mouth.

“What is it now?” you ask.

“Nothing. Well… I just- Ugh.” He groans in frustration, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I know I said that I’d always respect your decision when it came down to choosin’ between me or someone else, but I didn’t think it’d be this… hard.”

“What are you going on about?” You pry his hand away so that you can look him in the eyes. His pupils are nothing but slits. “I haven't made any kind of decision yet. Nothing happened.”

“Okay, but still… Seeing someone else trying to touch you like that, scenting it…” he says. “I thought I could handle it for your sake, but clearly that ain’t the case. I should’ve cooled off before trying to start shit, and yet I actively chose to behave like a dick instead.”

“Actually, I thought you did a pretty decent job at controlling your awfully jealous self. Give or take,” you console, giving him a playful wink. It only causes his brow to furrow further.

“That’s not the point. Jealousy might be all fun and games to regular people, but it’s different with me. I felt like I was seconds away from skinning the dude alive… And maybe eating him afterwards, I dunno,” he says, his expression turning even more troubled than before. “Bet he’d taste like shit, though.”

“Well… What matters is that you didn’t do that.” You pat his shoulders as a form of encouragement and quickly decide on not telling him about your history with Shikamaru just yet since you’re not particularly fond of the idea of having a body on your hands. “One step at a time, yeah?”

“I guess,” he mutters. Disappointment still continues to bubble in Kiba’s stomach. It brings forth a slightly bitter taste on his tongue.

You stare at him, raking your gaze over the great expanse of his shoulders, down to his forearms, which he’s got revealed due to the sleeves being rolled up to his elbows. Now that the initial anger has diminished from his face, he just looks plain miserable. Like a puppy that’s been soaked to the bone, despite that he’s far bigger than that.

“You wanna go home and cuddle it out?” you blurt out all of a sudden, tracing the tattoos on his left forearm with your index finger.

He peers up at you from underneath his lashes. Not wanting to come across as even more clingy or suffocating, all he utters is, “If that’s what you want.” 

“I’m asking you.”

He looks down again, bright yellow eyes zeroing in on his shoes. If it weren’t so dark in this godforsaken kitchen, perhaps you would’ve noticed the subtle blush tinging his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“I mean… If you really don’t wanna stay here,” he trails off, swallowing thickly. “Then, yeah. I suppose we could go back to yours and cuddle a little.”

You grin. “Look at you getting all mushy on me.”

Kiba gives you an eye roll. “Oh, shut up before I change my mind and just catch the first flight home.”

———

Despite initially not wanting to seem clingy, Kiba becomes exactly that after you both rinse off and clamber into bed that night.

In the dark, surrounded fully by your scent that lingers everywhere in your room, he feels safe enough to let his guard down; allowing himself to really dote on you properly — like he’s wanted to do for the last two months. 

As a result, his arm is protectively slung over your waist, and his legs are entangled with yours as he spoons you. His hand is beneath your shirt, tracing soft, lazy circles over your stomach. There are no claws in sight.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he grumbles at some point, sighing with contentment and squeezing you even closer to him. 

“Me too,” you admit, enjoying the close proximity. “Especially our dumb late night convos.”

You’ve been talking about everything and nothing in particular for the last hour or so; giggling and snickering like children and continuing on catching up, simply enjoying each other’s company. Just like old times.

Kiba clicks his tongue against his teeth in disagreement. “What d’you mean? They’re always dumb.”

“Well yeah, but that’s because they include you,” you tease, suppressing a tiny squeal when he pokes you in the side.

“As far as I know, it takes two to hold a conversation,” he fires back, squeezing your hip. “Unless you’re a nutcase, that is.”

“Hey, now… I talk to myself sometimes,” you say, turning your head to the side just enough to face him. “When I’m, like, thinking out loud and stuff.”

He quirks a brow at this. “Weirdo.”

“Pfsh.” You huff, rolling your eyes. “If anyone’s the weirdo here, then it’d be you, Mr. On all levels except physical, I am a wolf.”

“See, that doesn’t make any sense because I am a wolf on a physical level.” He drums his fingers against your skin playfully, hinting that he’ll maybe poke you in the side again. “Therefore, your joke sucks.”

“It’s still funny, though,” you protest. “And look at you, using your big boy words. Therefore. What’s gonna be next? Begging for a shilling?”

You watch as he smiles that wretched grin that shows off his dimple. His laugh is quiet, but it kindles a flame of affection inside your heart.

“You’re such a pain in the ass, you know that?” he says, still laughing.

“So I’ve been told, yeah,” you reply with a beaming smile of your own. His mood is contagious. “Multiple times.”

“Mm. I like it, though. This more confident, outgoing version of you.” After a brief moment of silence, he adds, “It makes me less worried.”

You ask, “Less worried about what?”

“If you’ll be able to stick up for yourself in case I’m not around,” he explains, not offering much more.

You blink as slight confusion begins to settle in. “And why wouldn’t you be around?”

“Well, you know,” he says, shrugging as a means to appear indifferent, but failing. “If you decide on being with someone other than me, then I guess there’d be no reason for me to stay in your life.” 

“What do you mean there’d be no reason?” you say, frowning deeply now. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re aware that the thing you say next is selfish, but you just can’t help it, “You’d still be my best friend… Wouldn’t that be enough?”

He smiles again, but this time it’s a little less beaming and a little more painful. “Bunny, of course it’d be enough. I’d spend my whole life trying to give ya the love that I think you deserve, even as just a friend. But let’s be real here… If I did that, it’d just cause… problems.”

“Problems?” you repeat, your voice hurt. “What kind of problems?”

“You’ve seen for yourself what happened tonight,” he says.

“Nothing happened tonight.” Quick frustration makes you groan. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve told you that already, so why are we going over the same conversation again?”

“Exactly, nothing happened, but look at the way I still reacted to it,” he says, sighing out of exasperation instead of contentment this time around. “I was ready to go batshit crazy over nothing… How do you think I’m gonna react if we meet up and you’ve got your boyfriend’s scent all over ya? Who says I’m not gonna go and try to bite the guy’s head off?”

You stare at each other. The knot in your belly tightens at the way he looks at you; his eyes still burning with that striking yellow shade, despite the inner conflict that subdues it ever so slightly now.

“Do you think we were destined to be together?” you ask out of the blue.

Kiba gives you a look that tells you he’s starting to worry if you’ve gone a bit nuts. “What?”

“I mean, like, do you think that we had no say in this entire thing,” you attempt to explain lamely. “Or, well… that you had no say in it?”

“I don’t believe in destiny,” he says finally.

“Well, what would you call this thing between us, then?” you mumble. “I mean, isn’t a mating bond supposed to be just some kind of a wolfy version of it?”

“I- No, I don’t think so,” he says, slowly shaking his head. “I already told you that I approached you because of the bond at first, yeah… But over the years, I’m pretty sure that I’ve come to love you on purpose. Like, on my own terms.”

Your heart skips a beat. The world feels like it’s spinning all of a sudden.

“How can you tell the difference, though?” you croak out. “Between genuine love and the forced one that the bond is pushing on you?”

“Um… Because I’m willing to spend the rest of my life alone, fighting against the red string of fate or whatever the fuck you want to call it, if it means that you’ll be happy, I guess,” he whispers quietly, his expression suddenly thoughtful. “Come to think of it, it’d be like my own personal fuck you towards destiny, hah.”

There’s no one else beside you and him in the house right now — your roommates are still out partying and doing god knows what — but he says it like it’s a secret that he’s been keeping for years.

And you, well, you feel like crying. Like curling yourself into a little ball underneath the covers that you’re sharing with him at the moment, and simply sobbing your heart out until it’s leaking out of your chest.

But instead of that, you look at him. You reel the tears in as you really look at him, and you say, “All right.”

You’ve always been so cautious. So hesitant and unsure — nothing like him. Ever since he’d revealed the truth during that godforsaken camping trip, Kiba speaks of the love that he feels for you so openly. 

Goddammit, he loves you. He actually loves you. Not because of the bond, not because you’re his perfect biological match, not because his instinct is telling him to do so. 

No, he loves you because of the memories that you’ve made together. Because of the laughter that you’ve shared. Because of all the good and the bad and everything else that’s in-between.

He loves you because he wants to, not because he needs to.

“All right?” he repeats, studying your face. “What’s that supposed t’mean?”

“It means that I’m done taking it slow. I think,” you say, trying to stop your upper lip from twitching. Your body feels tense all over once again; you feel like you’ll start bursting at the seams because of the storm of emotions that’s brewing inside you. “For once in my life, I think that I’m choosing to go all in.”

Kiba’s heart begins to pound so hard that he can hear it ringing in his ears.

“You… You mean…?” he trails off, not even daring to finish the sentence.

“Yes,” you say as your breathing slightly quickens. “We can give this thing a try; properly this time. I-I mean, fuck it, right? We haven’t been just friends for a long while now, so what’s there to lose anyway?”

He smiles at that, and for a second it’s like you can see him again — your childhood best friend. Short and scrawny, but equipped with that brazen assurance that used to get him into all sorts of trouble.

“Yeah,” he says. His smile nearly grows from ear to ear. He feels like he could touch the sky at that very moment; unbridled joy is beginning to overcome him completely. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I, umm… I guess it’s time to admit that I’ve been crushing on you for years, then. Well, I think! I’m pretty sure I was always head over heels for you, even back in high school, but I didn’t allow myself to dwell on it too much because of… well, you know,” you trail off, still riding that high of confidence that allows every bit of truth to spill out of you now. 

“So when we almost kissed before I left for college, I… I got scared. You were with Tamaki at the time, and I was leaving, and I thought you’d end up regretting it from the way it would surely mess up your whole relationship and our friendship.” You look at him, eyes apologetic. “I didn’t mean to ghost you like I did, but god… The entire thing was so messy, just chaos waiting to happen, and I was too big of a coward to deal with all that, especially after moving across the country and turning a new chapter in my life. And I’m well aware that it’s no excuse for what I did, but I just wanted you to know… the real reason behind it. And that I’m sorry.”

“I wouldn’t have regretted it, though,” he says, his gaze softening. “If you’d kissed me back at mine that night, I would never have regretted it. My relationship with Tam was a fuckin’ bust either way.”

“I know that now, you dumbass!” You huff, eyebrows cinching with frustration and stress. “But what’s the use if I didn’t know it back then.”

“Bunny,” he coos, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Breathe.”

“Oh, shut up,” you fuss, pushing him in the chest. “I’m over here, pouring my heart out to you, and you’re basically telling me to calm down. Idiot.”

He snickers at your anger, thinking it’s so cute that it’s to die for. “Well, what do you want me to do, then?”

“I want-” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, chewing on it as shyness manages to creep up on you at long last. You don’t feel as confident as before when it comes to admitting to your desires out loud, so the only time you stop your incisor from digging deeper, is when you mumble, “I want you to kiss me.”

If Kiba’s gaze had been soft before, now it’s gone utterly sweet and gooey. It makes his lids drop very, very, very low on his eyes.

“Yeah?” is all he says.

“Yeah. But not like you did back at home,” you say, remembering the urgency and the forceful clash of teeth that he’d given you because of the rut that had been cooking his brain into mush at the time. “I want it done properly this time.”

“I can do that,” he says, chuckling quietly. “But don’t act like you didn’t enjoy our first kiss. I could smell how excited you got over it, remember?”

“Whatever,” you hiss, bunching up the front of his T-shirt into your fists. “Either you behave and kiss me like a gentleman, or you’re sleeping on the floor tonight.”

“Hah, all right, all right! No need to threaten me, jeez,” he says. He’s still laughing as he caresses your cheek with one hand and angles your head so that he can do what you’re asking him for. “C’mere, you grouch… Let’s get smoochin’.”

“I hate you.”

“I thought you said you loved me.”

“I said I liked you, not-”

The rest of your sentence is broken off by a kiss.

Unlike the first time, it’s gentle. Perhaps you could even call it romantic. He cups your cheek instead of gripping it, and doesn’t become pushy; rather allowing you to take charge of the pace. There’s no tongue, only lip brushing against lip. Your breaths intermingle, to the point that you both start quietly panting in-between the short little pauses that you use for air. 

Your stomach is doing backflips by the time he slowly pulls back to look at you. His eyes are not only yellow, they’re also ravenous, and they get even more intense when you reach out to comb your fingers through his hair.

The sudden yearning that swoops down upon him makes Kiba’s throat feel so dry that it’s like it’s burning from the inside out. It’s not quite the same as it was back during his rut, but he’s getting there. Oh, he’s getting there, all right.

“More?” he asks after the longest time of silence. His voice has turned completely hoarse. 

“Mhmm, yeah,” you hum your approval, turning around to lay on your back. He instantly uses the chance to prop himself up with one elbow and drapes his upper half over you.

With his face only a couple of centimeters away from your own now, you end up nearly nose to nose. His golden chain dangles from his neck, the sleek metal occasionally cooling your skin in places that it comes in contact with. It causes you to giggle. He smiles when he leans in to kiss you again.

“Wait. I’ve got a question,” you mumble against his lips.

“Mhmm, spill,” he replies in-between kisses.

“I was thinking… Would it be… too much, if I maybe bought a golden initial of my name for you to wear?” you ask, gliding your finger along the piece of jewelry. “Like, as a not-so-secret birthday present for you next year?”

“Nah, I’d wear it,” he says simply. “Only if you wear mine, too, though.”

“Sure.” Your smile grows, little by little. “I’m in need of a new necklace anyway… Just nothing too flashy, okay?”

He snickers. “We’ll get you one of those big-ass golden dollar signs with the diamonds on top, all right?”

“Okay, yeah, that way I can always resell it.”

“Meanie.”

Your hands run through his hair for a second time as you proceed to explore each other’s mouths after months of nothing. They tug at the roots once or twice, making him grunt, before travelling down the nape of his neck and settling on his strong back. Nails grazing the soft cotton of his T-shirt, you nearly start to claw at it when his tongue touches your bottom lip.

Eventually, the kissing gets needier. More desperate. You part your lips for him and he takes his time dragging his tongue across the roof of your mouth, the flat of your teeth, tasting you fully and savouring the minty flavour of the toothpaste that you used earlier. So much saliva gets exchanged.

Besides that, there’s also phantom electricity sizzling across your skin when he carefully sinks one fang into your bottom lip and tugs on it. His caution is endearing and hot to die for, but it also feels like he’s edging you kind of. It takes you all the effort you can muster to not let a moan slip out. 

What you do end up doing, however, is taking his hand and pushing it between your legs. Just like that, all by yourself.

And it’s warm there, between your legs — perhaps even a bit too much, Kiba thinks. He stiffens at your actions, hesitating only for a second before he cups your pussy right over the comfortable shorts that you wear to bed. Watches with semi-focused vision as your hips buck without any sort of doubt that would otherwise be common for you, searching for more friction despite the seam that is now pressing against your clit.

As you continue to rub yourself against the heel of his palm, more and more sweat begins to ooze out of your pores. You’re getting hot, so your hands work seemingly on their own to try and subdue the sudden rise in temperature as you curl your fingers around the hem of your T-shirt and hike it up — all until it’s touching the collar.

With your front now almost fully exposed, Kiba curses under his breath when the sweet, musky aroma of your arousal steadily begins to fill the room that you’re in. The door is closed and the windows are shut, so it hits him like a truck. His mind is getting foggier by the millisecond because of it.

“Something the matter?” you utter sweetly, honey dripping from every word. At this point, your chest has begun to heave with some untamed form of anticipation. You sound nothing like yourself.

“No, everything’s fine,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly. Once again, he’s beginning to borderline drool, this time at the sight of your tits. It makes it hard to talk. “Just enjoyin’ the view.”

“Oh, yeah? Is that so?” You fondle your breasts, running your thumbs across the sensitive nipples, making a show for him just to rile him up further. Who knew you had it in you? “Wanna tell me just how much you’re enjoying it?”

Spit threatens to drip down the corner of his mouth. He sucks it back in the last second. “Bunny… What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing’s gotten into me? Well, not yet at least… But come on, tell me.” You continue your ministrations, testing his patience. “You love to talk, don’t you?”

“I love to show off more,” he says before he moves his hand from its spot between your legs just so that he can grab you by the wrist and make you touch him below his waistline. “Here... This is all ‘cause of you. Happy?”

You blink as he curls your fingers around the bulge that’s pressing against his boxers, wanting out. Let out a breathless, almost patronizing kind of laugh. “Fuck, you’re so hard… I’m surprised it doesn’t hurt.”

“It does hurt,” he says, voice incredibly strained now. His lips quiver slightly when you give him a stroke all on your own, without him having to ask or beg for it. It makes his mind shift to other things than whatever it is that’s making you behave this way. “I want you so bad; like, so fucking bad… You’re drivin’ me completely nuts.”

You smile at how honest he is. “Touch me and we’ll get there, okay?”

And he smirks, even if his teeth are getting bigger again from the way he’s slowly losing control, gradually affecting his speech. “Don’t hafta tell me twice.”

He kisses you again, but this time it’s harder than before and done in a way that mashes your lips against your teeth. When you open your mouth wider to ease the pressure, all he does is fill it with his tongue. He gets so pushy that you have to resort to tugging on his hair to make him relent.

“Sorry,” he mumbles sheepishly, rather moving his hot mouth to your jawline and neck.

“It’s fine,” is all you manage to say before the grazing of sharp canines immediately shuts you up.

He moves fast after that, almost urgently, from how exhilarated he is to have you like this underneath him; only taking the time to get your T-shirt out of the way so that he can lick your collarbone next. You don’t even get a proper chance to react to it before he’s already dipping even lower to suck on your nipple instead.

“Ha-ah.” Your breathing stutters as you watch his nose smush against the fat of your breast. He’s swirling his tongue around the nipple, nipping it ever so gently from time to time and tugging on it with his lips.

Meanwhile, his hand has slid between your legs again. He’s running his knuckle up and down your slit the same exact way he’d done back at his place during the summer, making the seam of your pyjama shorts rub against your clit. The sensation makes your legs want to close up from the sensitivity that’s sparking there, but he makes sure you’re spread wide open for him at all times.

Eventually, he pops his mouth off your nipple only to begin paving a path of kisses down your stomach. And they’re audible, the kisses. He’s leaving little remnants of glimmering saliva on your skin as he goes, making your middle covered in it.

It’s almost fascinating how smoothly he moves for such a big guy. Before you know it, your shorts are tossed onto the floor right along with your panties, and your legs are propped on his shoulders, the heels of your feet digging into his back.

“Fuck, your pussy smells so good,” he rasps when there’s no barrier separating him from you anymore. He swallows hard at the scent of arousal that’s as strong as ever now, Adam’s apple bobbing with the action. “It’s makin’ me drool… I can’t stop it, m’sorry. I know it’s gross.”

You want to hide your face into the pillow because of how timid his words are making you somewhere deep down inside, but instead all you do is arch your back when he noses his way between your thighs and presses a sloppy kiss there.

His tongue follows suit immediately afterwards and he wastes no time with licking your slit, nudging between your folds, groaning with satisfaction at the taste. Your hands dig into his hair in an instant, grabbing fistfuls when he suckles on your clit.

It’s all happening so fast but at the same time it doesn’t seem fast enough. Heat intensifies inside the pit of your stomach, spreading throughout your thighs, your legs, right to the very tips of your toes. You dig your heels deeper into his back, pull him closer by the hair so that you can receive more.

“Shit, fuck, oh, fuuuck,” you half-moan, half-whisper, borderline gasping for air when you feel his tongue push inside you. It’s longer than a normal human’s, slightly coarser too. It makes you wiggle your hips as you try to fuck yourself against his goddamn face in response.

You have no clue if there’s some secret chemical component in his saliva that’s making you act this feral, but you simply can’t stop writhing and moaning like a slut. What’s even worse is that he tongue-fucks you like his life depends on it. In and out, in and out, the occasional swipe up and down. It’s getting messier and messier, so sloppy that there’s surely a puddle forming on the bed sheet that you’re lying on currently.

And just when you thought you had it all, his tongue gets replaced by his fingers. You tense up, an alarming thought about his claws rushing through your dazed mind, however you’re quickly relieved to find out that they’re nowhere in sight.

They’re just normal, human fingernails on normal, human fingers. Reaching deep inside you. Fuck, reaching so deep inside you. Making you see stars behind closed eyelids. Stretching you and filling you at the same time, making you nearly jump out of your skin when they curl upwards and touch that especially tender spot.

The heat that’s swirling in your tummy worsens as a result — if that is even humanly possible. You feel it rising, feel your face scrunching up, feel your teeth gritting, feel your hips picking up pace, feel your hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair again, tugging way more harshly than you otherwise would as your climax starts to approach fast.

“Gonna- I’m gonna-...!”

“Nuh-uh,” he says all of a sudden, turning his pace to something painfully laggard, to something that isn’t nearly as quick and fulfilling enough to make you cum. “You’re not gonna… Not yet, at least.”

It hurts, it physically hurts; that unsatisfied feeling that resides in the place where your pleasure should be by now. Especially when he purses his lips and allows a glob of spit to land directly onto your pussy, turning you practically slippery between your legs.

He pushes the spit in with the help of his fingers.

“Wha-?” Your eyes grow big as saucers, stinging with upcoming tears at his denial. He’s gotten you so worked up that you just can’t help but behave like a spoiled pillow princess now. Like a proper crybaby.

“What, hm? You gonna cry?” He sneers — surprisingly meanly — at the lost look that appears on your face now. Wiping his mouth against your thigh, he kisses it before he says, “Relax, you’re gonna cum… I just want your bunny cunt squeezin’ around my dick, not my fingers.”

“Then lemme sit on it…! C’mon, lemme ride you or something,” you cry out, voice cracking with urgency and desperation that even you, yourself, don’t recognize. 

You push up from the bed with the help of your elbows so that you can clamber on top of him and ride him like the best cowgirl to ever live under the fucking sun, but all he does is press his hand into the middle of your chest and shoves you right back down onto the mattress.

For fuck’s sake, was this how he felt back when he’d begged you to help him find relief during his rut? Your body feels like it’ll drop dead any second now if you don’t get dicked down soon.

“No, you’ll hurt yourself if you do that ‘cause you ain’t stretched out enough yet. Besides, I’ve got a different idea anyway,” he says, reaching for the back of his T-shirt’s collar so that he can tug it off. “Turn onto your side.”

You stare at the rippling muscle, as well as at all the tattoos that run up his left arm to his shoulder. His hair is messy and his eyes almost glow in the dark. He’s buff, hairy, with sharp teeth and equally as keen-edged facial features. 

In that exact moment, he looks like the embodiment of animalistic hunger. Either that, or it’s just straight up carnage if it were a person.

“Are you going to mount me?” you ask, guts squeezing with anticipation at the mere thought of it. “Like you did back in the woods? ‘Cause I really… enjoyed that last time.”

His brows rise, short-lived surprise crossing his face before he chuckles. “Hah… Later, okay? Gonna fuck you sideways first and stretch you out a lil’ so my cock can fit.”

While Kiba tugs down his underwear, you busy yourself with doing as you’re told. You lie onto your side, clenching and rubbing your thighs together with lewd suspense and bated breath. By the time he spoons you, finally completely naked himself, you’re already bending your legs at the knee, pushing your ass out for him.

“Somebody needs it bad, huh?” he taunts as he pulls you closer to his chest. 

You’re in the same exact position as you were before all of this had started, the only difference is that you’re both naked now.

And, well, you’ve also got his cock sliding up and down your sticky pussy now. Got it smearing pre-cum and arousal and spit together, making you both groan out quiet noises of pleasure whenever the fat cockhead catches against your entrance, which feels like it’s fucking throbbing at this point.

He did something to you, didn’t he? He stuck his tongue fully inside your cunt for the first time instead of only licking and prodding it, and all of a sudden you’re forced to behave like a cat in heat.

“Kiba,” you whisper, breathing so fast that it’s almost frantic. You’re clawing at the sheets and rubbing your cheek against the pillow as you say, “Put it in... Fuck… Mmph, for the love of god, just put it in already…! I need your dick inside me.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m trying,” he mumbles, frustration making him bite the inside of his cheek. “But I gotta go slowly first so that I don’t rip ya to shreds, bunny... And you beggin’ me for it is not helping ‘cause it’s only making me want to do just that.”

“I don’t care about any of that, just… just put the tip in at least,” you mewl out between words, wiggling your hips, curling your toes. Turning your head to the side to look at him, you instead kiss him with the same forceful shove forward the second your eyes land on him. “Just the tip, yeah? Okay? Like we did it back in the tent.”

He stares at you, jaw clenched and teeth grinding together from how intensely he’s trying to keep himself in-check while also having to do the same exact thing for you as well now. He can smell your need, the sweat that coats your skin, the arousal. Can hear the heavy beating of your heart.

You’re both going to devour each other if one of you doesn’t have some self-control. So Kiba tries to be the one to have it, taking another long moment to grind against you before he finally lets his gaze slip from your nearly bewildered expression, and rather focuses it on guiding his cock straight into your cunt.

You arch against him when his cockhead spreads your folds apart and slowly makes its way inside. Jaw relaxing at the sensation of finally having something to ease all that painful throbbing that’s going on, you gasp for air almost in relief despite the pesky feeling of your pussy squeezing around the girth of his dick.

It’s already demanding more.

“Fuck, bunny,” he grunts, thrusting slowly, easing himself in. “What’s wrong with you…? You’re suckin’ me right in… Shit… Makin’ it real hard f’me to not push in all the way.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, just-... j-just keep going,” you whimper out, face turning hot when you feel slick dribbling down his length. He’s so big, perhaps even too big, but your cunt just keeps on taking more and more. It never seems to be enough.

Minutes pass and you’re gradually losing your sense of self right along with them. All you care about is having him inside you. So you fuck the tip first, then half of his cock, and afterwards — fucking finally — you start taking the whole thing.

And it feels good, relieving almost. He’s got his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, inhaling and drooling over the spot where your scent is the strongest as he holds your leg up for you and just slowly pounds away. In and out. In and out. In and out.

Meanwhile, you’re drooling all over the pillow as well, blindly reaching behind you to stroke his hair with twitching fingertips as your hips help him in meeting yours over and over again. Every time his fingers dig into the soft spot that’s underneath your knee, it makes you tighten up.

His cock twitches inside you when he buries it in to the hilt, really allowing himself to sink balls deep and making you do that cute little wince that wants to make him go batshit crazy. But instead of doing that, he steadies himself. Reels it back in. Tries to listen to your quick-paced heartbeat and even quicker breaths, despite that he’s paying attention to other things.

Because even if the sounds of skin slapping against skin aren’t that loud from how slowly he’s pushing into you, that doesn’t mean that they aren’t present. He can still hear them all. As well as the occasional gushy little noises that your pussy makes.

They make his balls tighten.

You don’t know how long you do this entire thing, but you orgasm three, three fucking times during it. To some it may be like a dream come true, however to you it’s exhausting. The overstimulation is wiping you out, and yet you keep pushing, keep asking for more, keep turning around to kiss him and whine out little pleas of ‘don’t stop, please don’t stop’.

The stretch stings, as does the spot on your neck where he sank his fangs earlier, but you welcome the overwhelming sensations with open arms. In fact, you’re so feral that you feel like you won’t survive the night if he doesn’t fuck and bite and squeeze this craving for pleasure out of you.

He does a pretty good job with it, though. With how wet you are, it’s fairly easy for Kiba to turn rougher; to turn more bestial and wild and relentless with every push and shove of his hips that he drills into yours. He even uses the vibe he’s had to listen to you pleasure yourself with over the phone these last couple of weeks, in order to help you with your little problem.

But you’re not just wet, you’re also insatiable — yes, that’s what you are! Constantly making noise and clawing at him like a little slut, looking at him with tearful eyes as the fever keeps on kicking you into the goddamn ground. So it’s only when he mounts you, aiming to fuck you like an animal, that you start feeling any sort of satisfaction that actually manages to stick. 

He uses his weight to roll you onto your tummy, and pins you down by placing you in a headlock that has you gasping for air, but also has you cumming on the spot again. You’re pretty sure that it’s the sheer, utter strength and the size difference between your head and his arm that has you behaving this way now instead of the daze, but who knows?

“Already? Christ,” he pants out, his hot exhales tickling your naked shoulder. His entire body is slick with sweat — you’re pretty sure you saw it dripping down his temples earlier. It’s no wonder that the last couple of kisses you’ve exchanged tasted salty. “Who would’ve thought that a good girl like you likes to be fucked this nasty, huh?”

Your lips try to part so that you can answer his jab with one of your own, however your face is squished against his tattooed bicep, rendering that task nearly impossible. Besides that, he’s growling into your ear, crushing you with his weight, getting bigger and bigger, until he’s throbbing inside your cunt, making your voice useless either way.

“My lil’ mate,” he continues, seemingly in a daze himself. He’s whipped at this point, completely pussy drunk. “You are, right? Mine?”

You still can’t say anything other than choked up gibberish from how firmly he’s holding you, however you do make an effort to nod.

But it��s not like he waits for you to actually answer. No, all he does is start picking up speed; starts pounding away for real, eventually making you feel like he’s in your fucking guts each time he draws back and slams right back in.

“Nngh… I’m close, real fuckin’ close... Gimme one more and then I’m… I’m knotting ya, okay, sweetheart? Yeah?” he rasps between quick breaths, voice so hoarse and hot that it ignites a fire straight up inside your soul. “Jus’ one more and then we’re makin’ pups, ‘kay?”

That last sentence alone is enough to get you reaching your finish real fucking fast. Your eyes roll back, your ass pushes up so that he can reach even deeper inside you. His balls slap against your clit with every harsh, unforgiving thrust, and it’s like you’ve gone to heaven.

Maybe it’s a good thing that he’s got you trapped in a headlock. Besides it being the hottest thing that a guy has ever done to you in bed so far, it also ensures that you stay nice and quiet. 

So it only takes you a minute or two to become undone underneath him because of all that’s happening. And the second you tighten around him — the strongest you’ve ever squeezed him tonight — his thrusting turns irregular and almost kind of jerky, picking up in speed more and more until he eventually reaches his climax and comes to a full stop.

Kiba grits his too-big teeth when he cums, spilling every last drop of his warm release inside you and closing his eyes during it. Every muscle in his body hurts from how overly tense he’d forced them to be whilst trying not to go too far since you’re so fragile. But as he wills himself to finally loosen up a little bit, he realizes that that hurts even more. The groan he lets out as a result can barely be registered as human.

But it’s not over just yet. You feel the now familiar, but equally as strange, sensation as his knot begins to swell inside you. The stretch builds up while it fills more and more space, pressing against your tender walls and causing your pussy to protest as it tries to accommodate all of him.

You’re stuck together once again, panting, sweating, trying to piece yourselves back into what you once were while also feeling completely, utterly fucked out.

His breathing is still heavy as he releases the headlock to ask, “What the fuck happened just now?”

“Oh, gosh.” You let out a small, muffled groan underneath him, fussing into the pillow, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“You acted like you were in heat,” he continues, concern shining in his yellow eyes. “Went all feral on me and shit.”

“I feel like I still am,” you say, whining when you feel his knot throbbing inside you in answer. “We’re probably gonna have to go for round two.”

“Fine by me.” He muses before a breathless snicker escapes him. “I’ll fuck you until sunrise if that’s what you want, baby.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t almost die from a heart attack just now.”

He grins from ear to ear. “Pussy so good it kills.”

You roll your eyes. “I wish it did.”

“All right, that’s it. You’re getting squished as punishment.”

“No, wait-”

Ignoring your protests, Kiba succumbs to the tiredness and drops his weight upon you exactly like he’d done the first time when he’d mounted you during the summer. However, before he can kiss you and shower you in praise for doing so well yet again, a small, sudden growl resonates from deep within his chest.

His sensitive wolf hearing picks up on the sound of keys jingling from the other side of the front door, as well as the drunken giggles and wheezing.

Your roommates are back. Great timing.

Looks like you’ll have to play it quiet.

———

Dating a werewolf is easier than expected, when said werewolf is also your best friend.

But even after being in a relationship with him for almost five years now — the last two of those spent living in an adorable little apartment together — you still can’t help but be fazed by how rough he ends up looking after every transformation.

Kiba’s shirt is torn in some places when he comes home the morning after he’d ventured out into the woods to cross off yet another full moon off his calendar. Besides the shirt, you also notice that his shoes are muddy and that his jeans are covered in dirt. Oh, and you’re pretty sure that there’s a twig poking out of his hair. 

All in all, he looks absolutely dead-beat; so exhausted that he can’t even give you a proper smile as he kicks his sneakers off and drags his feet across the kitchen floor. When he finally plops down onto the chair he favours, it’s accompanied by a sigh.

You stand up from your own seat so that you can walk over and give him a kiss on the forehead. When you do, you catch a whiff of his scent. He smells earthy; like rich soil and wet moss. Like a rainy forest.

“Hungry?” you mumble against his tan skin, combing your fingers through his hair to get rid of the twig that’s definitely stuck in there. After a bit of effort, you succeed in pulling it out and make sure to toss it in the trash as you head for the fridge.

“Starvin’,” he answers behind you, his voice completely worn out. “My stomach hurts like a motherfucker from how empty it is.”

“Well, that’s your own fault, now isn’t it? If you’d transformed here like you did last time, I would’ve made sure you were fed throughout the night,” you chide, rummaging through the fridge to pick up the carton of eggs you’d bought the day before. “I even took a day off work because of it, and yet you still decided to go out there into the woods.”

“I gotta keep that dawg in me somehow, don’t I?” he says, laughing like a kid.

“You can keep that dawg in you while you’re lying on a warm couch instead of the cold, wet ground,” you reply, grabbing the eggs. “Bacon?”

“Yes, please,” he says, propping his cheek against one hand.

With his eyes back to their normal brown, Kiba watches you move across the kitchen that you’d built together over the course of an entire week after moving in. He’d boasted that he was entirely capable of doing it himself and had cancelled on the assembly guys without even as much as offering you the chance to argue back. 

Nowadays, whenever he gets another similarly dumb idea, you use the kitchen as a firm example of the consequences that it may bring.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that you were trying to domesticate me,” he muses, feeling his stomach clench at the smell of food that’s beginning to sizzle on the pan now. “Or you just want to sit on my face when I’m in my monster form again. That’s also an option.”

God, he’s so hungry that it hurts.

“You’re lucky I don’t put you up for adoption just for saying that,” you say, tossing the egg shells away. With how fast embarrassment swoops in, twisting your expression into a flustered one, you’re happy that you’ve got your back turned towards him.

“What? You gonna tell me you didn't enjoy the stuff we did last month?” he asks, smirking at the memory. “‘Cause I seem to recall someone whining like a lil’ bitch in heat from only a couple flicks of tongue.”

He’s not wrong. Ever since he’d finally allowed you to see him in his other form a couple years ago, you’d been excited to experiment a little after the initial shock had worn off. So far, there’s been a lot of licking, plenty of dry humping and zero penetration whatsoever; if you exclude that one time when you tried to take him into your mouth but had ended up slobbering all over his dick instead.

He’s simply too big, and you’ve learned to accept it by now. Rubbing your pussy over the enormous length of his werewolf cock is all you can do, but it’s still satisfying either way. Especially when he cums because of how turned you are at the sight of him even when he’s fucking huge and equipped with sharp claws and teeth that could kill just as easily as they could protect. During those times, his release ends up covering your entire tummy and makes a mess out of his fur.

Nevertheless, Kiba feels so lucky that you’re willing to accept all of him. Feels like the luckiest man — or should he rather say wolf — to ever walk the face of the planet. It’s easier when he’s got a partner to lean on.

“Hey. Language,” you say, your voice stern.

“Sorry.” He lets out a soft little hum in apology that’s meant to appease you further. “I’ll stay home next month, okay? I promise.”

“You don’t have to,” you say, definitely wishing he did.

“I want to,” he says back.

When you go to place the plate before him, he pulls you down so that you can sit on his lap instead. After a little bit of squirming and whining about how he’s going to get your pyjama shorts dirty, you eventually settle down when he places his hand on your thigh and pats it affectionately. 

“You sure you want to stay here next month?” you mumble. Watching your bare feet dangle freely in the air now, you stroke him over the back of his head with an absent-minded look in your eyes. “I don’t want you to feel cooped up just because of me.”

“Yes, because I can’t take another month of seeing you be so worried about me,” he says sweetly, grabbing the fork that you’d placed on the table earlier.

Your expression turns blank. “Who said I was worried about you?”

He gives you a look that spells bullshit.

“…Oh fine, maybe I did worry just the tiniest bit,” you huff, pursing your lips. “But can you blame me? I mean, look at the shape you’re in whenever you come back!”

“Yeah, I look cool as fuck,” he mumbles before swallowing, already munching on the eggs. You just know he’ll wolf them down the second you get off his lap. “Like Bear Grylls.”

You blink, slowly. “Bear Grylls drank his own piss on live television.”

“I mean, if I-”

“No,” you cut in, sighing. “Whatever you were about to say just now, the answer is no.”

“Meh,” he says, taking another bite. “You’re no fun.”

You stare at his side profile, at the way his jaw works as he chews, at how the sun filters through the window that’s across the room and paints his tan skin golden. It’s not long before your hand is reaching out towards him, cupping his cheek so that you can press a warm kiss on his temple.

“Sucks to be you then, I guess,” you say, smiling cheekily. “Since you’re stuck with a lame mate and all that.”

“Nah, you’re cool as a mate,” he says, angling his head more into your touch on pure instinct. “You’re just a lame best friend. Still love ya, though!”

But despite the teasing remark that he’s just thrown your way, the truth is that Kiba loves you as his best friend just as much as he loves you as his mate. 

And judging by the little box that he’s hidden in the back of his closet recently, it seems like he’s going to love you as his wife very soon, too.

[luviisabella]

would you ever think about writing for shigaraki? Or one of the villains? I love the heroes but there's just something about this skinny man when he's half naked that makes me FERAL.

Yes I do !! Ironically my favorite mha villain IS Shigaraki, he is soooooo fine. Especially in the episode where they break him out of the glass tube and he was in that black suit. I had to rewind 🤭

So so happy to write for this man, thank you bby for the ask 💗

- author

Tomura never wears a shirt. It’s so common and normal to see him walking around in sweats, a pair of headphones wrapped around his neck, and those stupid fuzzy sandals Dabi got him one year for Christmas. (He burned his other shoes so he has to wear them)

It was an unusual hot day and everyone was melting, you were sprawled out on the couch, phone in hand while groaning at the thought of even moving a finger. You were wearing small jean shorts, a tank top and your hair was up out of your face. You were scrolling on tik tok before getting a notification..

[Tomu]: hey

[Tomu]: bring me a water

[Tomu]: please.

You groaned before getting up off the couch to bring him a drink from the fridge, he had been in his room for hours on end. I mean to be fair it did have the best air conditioning but nothing to as stopping him from getting it himself. You opened the fridge and grabbed the water, it was freezing. You looked around before opening it and taking a small sip, it’s not like he’d notice anyways, and plus you’re doing him the favor of bringing it to him.

You close it tight before exhaling in sudden relief at the cold sensation spreading throughout your body. You stretched your arms above your head, now revealing your pelvic bone before reaching for the drink and heading to his room.

You knock on the door.

“Im coming in.” It was good to give warnings , one time you walked in on him changing and weren’t able to look him in the eye for about a week. He didn’t mind whether you knocked or not, it’s not like he had anything to hide.

You open the door and to no surprise he’s sitting and rotting away in his gaming chair. The room was cold though, it was so nice.

You take in his messy figure, his toned arms flexing as he pressed the buttons on the controller, his jawline and side profile looked amazing from this angle, and his-

“Thanks.”

The response broke you out of your daze as you let go of the water bottle after having placed it on his desk.

“Yeah no problem” and you look at a poster on the wall that you could have sworn to of recognized when you went out to the mall last week.

What you didn’t notice was him taking in your figure. Since it was hot you wore a tank top with nothing to cover underneath.. and since his room was cold, it prominently revealed your nipples to his field of his vision. Now he was fully looking at you. Your little shorts, the slight sweat between your thighs, how your shirt is slightly rising up, the sweat dripping from your jawline and how your hair is a bit messy but cute.

You look back at him and he’s just playing the game.

“Did you need anything else ?” you place your hand on your hip as you talk to him.

He shook his head.

“Okay well I’ll be out there if you need me.” And with that you turn away and head to the door, until a sudden tug against your belt loop on your shorts pulls you back.

“Tomura ??” You turn to look at him with furrowed eyebrows only for them to sprint up when you realize what he was going to say.

“Did you take a sip of the water ?”

his voice was low, it didn’t indicate that he was mad, just curious.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your head..

But before you could explain his tall figure was now hovering over you. Your back pressed against his desk and his hands on both sides. On any other day he would’ve let you walk away with it but he was in a bad mood, especially with this heat.

“Tomura-?“

his hand on your hip tugging you close to him was enough to make your knees weak, this was a different side of him, and the dirty smirk on his face was only making the heat between your legs grow.

—

“Since you wanna take a sip of my drink I might as well give you a real reason to be hot.”

[strwbabydoll]

Chapter Five: Baby, Kiss It Better

pairings: grumpy!college student!Harry x fem! sunshine!reader

chapter summary: She can't remember what all happened last night and Harry is different. She only remembers when she sees his face during their study session and Harry's seemingly drastic change fucks with her head.

series summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?

overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this toh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.

001 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

word count: 4.4k

- - - -

Y/N woke up  to a pounding in her head, the pain throbbing as she sat up in her bed. She rubs her eyes and turns her head, spotting the small bottle of pain relievers and a cup of water that sits on her bedside table. She doesn't remember setting that out before she set out for Leya's house, in fact she can't even remember what all happened last night. 

She knows she danced with Leya, had a couple of drinks, and she might've talked to Harry for a brief moment but everything else is a blur inside of her tired and hungover brain. She can't stop the yawn that escapes through her lips, so she stretches her arms over her head and stands up. She can't help but to frown at the feel of the cold wooden floor against her bare feet, she shuffles across the room to her dresser and quickly opens a drawer and grabs the first pair of socks that she can see. 

She makes her bed, her eyes squinting against the harsh sun rays that beam through her bedroom window onto her face. After she's through, she grabs her phone and hisses at the intensity of the brightness, so she quickly turns it down so she can check her notifications. She can see several messages and a couple missed calls from Leya, the texts express how sorry she is about leaving her and how worried she was when she couldn't find her - it's repetitive really, the same wording just different ways of putting them together. She can also see several other irrelevant notifications as her thumb scrolls down the list before she spots a singular message from Harry simply reminding her of their study session today. 

She can't help but to furrow her eyebrows at that, he's never been one to care so why would it matter for her to remember their session? She simply responds with an 'ok' before she's back at her dresser, quickly grabbing a pair of light washed skinny jeans and a gray sweater so she can get dressed. Quickly doing her routine and throwing back the pain pills and chasing it with the water before she's on the way out the door. 

The sun shines bright against her eyes and she frowns as she steps out of the house and onto her bike. She gently removes the cord locking her bike in place and puts it in her tote bag and pushes her bike forward. She begins to pedal her way down the street, smiling politely at the passerby and little kids. Her head is killing her with every movement and light and she can't help but to frown mentally before she stops at a small grocery store, parking her bike in front and not bothering to tie it down. She quickly walks inside and greets the lady standing there, flashing her as warm of a smile as she can manage and heading to the juice aisle.

She quickly grabs a small bottle of orange juice and heads to the register, smiling at the lady checking her out and hands her the money. She's in and out of the store in less than five minutes, eager to get this day over with and to be in her bed as soon as possible. So she hops back on her bike and begins her journey to her school once more. The breeze fanning through her hair and on the few exposed parts of skin brings her a sense of peace, 

She can't help but to smile against the breeze as the trees and buildings pass her by as she pedals her way down the street. Her head doesn't seem to hurt as bad, the throbbing has dulled and she can't help but to smile as she remembers to thank Harry if he's the one that took her home. She can make out the school's silhouette beginning to form in the distance so she pedals faster. 

- - - - 

She's walking out of her third period class, her hand massaging her forehead softly from all the  lights and loud talking that surrounded her. The chatter that fills the halls does nothing to ease her headache either, it's not as loud but loud enough to make her groan in response as she shuts her eyes tightly. 

"Hey babes, I don't think that'll ease the headache or make it go away." She shakes her head and opens her eyes only to be greeted with her best friend's face in front of her. 

"I know it won't be Leya. I knew playing with you was a bad idea." There's a playful tone in her voice to show she's not upset. 

Leya shakes her head with a small smile on her lips. 

"Yeah yeah, I'm sure it was so horrible. Pretty sure that's the most fun I've seen you having and the most carefree ever. I don't regret it. But I am sorry for leaving, I saw you go to the bar and I figured it'd be okay for a couple minutes. You could've gotten me and I would've taken you home!" Y/N can't help but to smile softly at her best friend before resting her hand on her shoulder. 

"It's okay, I know you didn't mean to leave me, I'm a little upset but I'll get over it. I got home safely and you did too, that's all that matters." Leya can't help but to shake her head gently and she frowns. 

Y/N knows Leya's blaming herself for last night so she wraps her in a tight hug. 

"Harry took me home I think, he’s the last person I can remember talking to. It’s all such a blur, but I'm okay. Don't beat yourself up. I'm the one who left you, so it's on me. We're good, I'm mostly upset at myself honestly." Y/N chuckles softly at her best friend's shocked expression. 

"You mean Harry that despises your existence, that Harry? He took you home?" Y/N nods her head and Leya smiles really big as she wiggles her eyebrows at the blushing girl. 

"It’s not for certain! I was pretty far gone, and I can barely remember the events of the night. Let's get to class before you make me late." She says and makes her way forward, attempting to change the topic or avoid the whole Harry situation in general. 

The chatter of the students still lingering in the hallways fade from her focus, slowly becoming just a faint background noise to the two girls. Y/N knows that she can't avoid this topic forever and that her friend's bound to bring it up sooner than she'd like, but she just wants a sense of normalcy as of right now. The air inside the school is cold against the back of her neck causing goosebumps to rise in its wake, she can see the different groups mingle together in the hallways as they make the most of the time before the bell rings. The bright fluorescent lights reflect on the tiled floor as they travel down the hall, arms brushing against one another before Leya gingerly intertwines their hands together and begins to swing their conjoined hands.

As they walk hand in hand, Y/N sees no sign of Harry in the halls nor can she hear him, his distinctive loud voice isn't booming in the halls which is concerning given the fact that he made sure to remind her of their study session, so why can't she find a hint of him being at school? She's not actively looking for him, there's no reason for her to be. It's just gotten normal for her to hear his laugh from down the hallway or to see his figure leaning against a locker as he kisses whatever girl he's managed to catch for the day. She's become so used to his banters and smart remarks that it's strange to walk down the crowded halls and have him not be a part of it. 

She's so in her head about the absence of Harry that she doesn't realize Leya's stopped a little ways behind her until she bumps shoulders with another student and mumbles a soft 'excuse me' and turns around to scold her friend for not letting her know. She's met with an amused smile resting on her friend's lips as she attempts to hold back her laughter. She shakes her head at herself as she makes her way back over to her friend. She keeps her head down to avoid all the stares watching her knowing she missed the door to her classroom. 

"Daydreaming again?" Leya asks with amusement laced in her voice, the smile never leaving her lips while Y/N's face begins to turn a very faint shade of red. 

"Fuck off Leya. I wasn't daydreaming, just wasn't paying attention." The same amusement is in her tone as well, indicating she's not upset with the girl in front of her. They both giggle as they wrap each other in their arms, sharing a brief hug before Leya departs with a soft kiss to Y/N's temple and waving her goodbye.

As Y/N walks into her fourth period class, she can't stop her eyes from wandering over all of the chairs as she heads towards an empty chair near the middle of the classroom. The teacher greets Y/N with a polite smile and she waves as she reciprocates the smile. 

- - - - 

The day passes rather quickly for Y/N as she walks out of her last class of the day, clutching her tote bag strap that rests on her shoulder and the gray fabric bumps against her hip with every step she makes as she heads down the very crowded hallway, weaving through the groups of students stopped in the hallway making idle conversation with their friends and the various teachers standing in front of their doors yelling at said students to go home. She can't help but to feel a bubble of nervousness begin to form in the pit of her stomach and worm its way to her chest and the idea of her and Harry being in close proximity of each other after whatever happened between them last night, the memories of the night before are still a blur in her head. 

Her legs carry her outside of the school building and to the right, passing a very small group of students huddled together talking amongst themselves with low voices, the few straggles of flowers littering the grass surrounding the school and she can't help her eyes from wandering to them as she passes, a soft smile placed on her lips from the beauty of each individual flower. The sun shines bright in the sky, the warm rays shining through the leaves in the trees and warms her face as she passes through. 

She walks up the steps and through the tall glass door, inhaling deeply and smiling as the smell of old books and is that a hint of vanilla she smells? She shrugs it off slightly before making her way to the back of the building to her designated table, away from prying ears and eyes but not hidden enough to cause suspicion from the librarian. The air inside of the building is cold thanks to the air conditioning running full blast to battle the warmer weather outside and she's grateful for her choice of clothing for the day.

She sets her tote bag on the back of the chair and pulls her new worksheet, her books and her binder full of paper out and places them on the table, setting them in order of what she'll use the most. She grabs her phone and checks the time, she's only a couple of minutes earlier than the time she arrived last time and if she knows Harry, he's gonna be late as always so in order to pass the time she quickly gets up to walk around the library and grabs a copy of Pride and Prejudice from the shelves and makes her way back to her table. Once she's fully settled and as comfortable as she can manage in the wooden chair, she opens the book and begins to read. 

Harry can’t get the feeling of her lips pressed against his out of his head, and he’s upset about that. He can’t stop the imaginary feeling of her lips pressed against his, can’t stop imagining what would happen if he didn't pull away. He can’t stop the replay of that obnoxiously cute nervous giggle she let out afterwards. He’s been trying to think of literally anything to try to redirect his mind, but it’s no use. That one moment always forces itself back in the front of his brain, it’s incredibly irritating if you ask him. 

He doesn’t understand why his brain is keeping that memory and torturing him with it, doesn’t understand why it’s seemingly a big deal. It’s not in any way and he wishes his brain and body could get the idea. He also doesn’t understand why he has a bottle of orange juice in his hand and it’s not for him, it’s for her. He woke up from a dream where he indulged in that kiss, allowed himself to memorize the taste of her lips, he was grumpy afterwards because what the actual fuck was that? 

Something told him to grab something for the sure hangover she’s bound to have, he’s going with the idea that he won’t have as much fun if she’s the one who’s cranky and irritable because she has a hangover, no other reason. 

It seems no matter how many times she's read this book, it never gets boring. She's gotten so into the book that she's managed to read a good chunk of the book as a couple stray tears have fallen down her cheeks, she sniffles as she wipes them with her sleeve. She figures she's read enough so she begins to close the book and grab her phone to check the time when she hears his voice behind her. 

"Sorry m'late." She can't help but to jump slightly with his voice so near to her ear, she can hear him chuckle slightly as she turns around to face him. 

It's as if seeing his face brings back every second of last night, flashbacks whirs through her brain at a fast pace and she can't help the heat that rushes to her cheeks. Images of her dancing with Leya, the drink challenge, the bartender that was clearly flirting with her, losing Leya, Harry helping her find her best friend, him taking her home after finding out Leya was hooking up with some guy, her calling Harry pretty- oh this is really fucking bad, he has all the ammunition against her now- and the accidental kiss. She quickly turns her head to face in front of her, she's sure her face is beet red and she feels hot all over. She's embarrassed and she can't believe herself. He sits down beside her and he can't help his gaze from peeking over to her and he has to bite back a laugh. 

"Everything ok? Y'look like you've seen a ghost Y/N." It's her turn to be the quiet one, she can only hum in agreement, her gaze never refusing to leave the middle of the wall. He slides a bottle of orange juice over to her, just close enough to catch her attention. He watches as she tenses up with his hand growing closer and he shakes his head. 

"Figured y'might need it, it helps with hangovers - at least it did with mine." She only nods dazedly in response and he chuckles. 

It's almost as if a switch has flipped overnight because the Harry that's sitting next to her is not the one she's been dealing with for years and she's unable to figure out how to go about this, she can't help but to bite her bottom lip nervously as she turns her gaze to the worksheets in front of her. 

"Thought I was supposed to be the one that's quiet, Y/N. Are you okay? If we need to do this another-" He's interrupted by her turning her gaze to him and clearing her throat. 

"We.. We kissed. You were.. you were nice and I'm just confused and nervous and none of it makes any sense." He shakes his head at her and runs his head through his long brown locks. 

"Yeah no big deal though, you were shitfaced and didn't need anything happening to you before my exams. You gotta make sure I pass so I can get the hell outta here." He smiles softly before leaning over to look at the worksheets. She shakes her head and she can't help the frown beginning to form on her lips and the furrow that appears in between her eyebrows. 

She can't stop wondering why he isn't upset or at least worried about it, he's always been so big on the fact that he doesn't like her so why isn't this a big deal to him. Why doesn't this matter to him as much as it matters to her?

"Get out of your head. I promise it's not gonna change anything, it's done. It's in the past, now aren't these the same sheets we did last time?" Her head is swimming with all of the flashbacks and the quick whiplash from Harry's behavioral change. She sighs and shakes her head to try to rid the thoughts in her head so she can focus. 

She pushes the worksheets closer to Harry with a small smile. 

"Uh, yeah. They are the same for the first half, I want to see if you actually paid attention and did some work after you left." Harry frowns and scoffs at that before the corners of his mouth begin to tug upwards and he covers his mouth with his hands, Y/N's eyes can't help but to stare at the new ring on his finger. It's nothing special and really shouldn't matter to her but something just draws her attention, she can make out a glimpse of some small letters engraved in cursive on the silver ring.  Harry catches her gaze and removes his hand and clears his throat. 

"In your words exactly, the only way to pass this test is for me to actually work with you, unless you wanna do it all for me and I just study it." His voice has taken the same playful tone from last night and she can't help the blood that rushed to her cheeks at the seemingly painful reminder. 

She tilts her head down in an attempt to shield her face from Harry's gaze and she can hear him chuckle softly from beside her. 

"You have to do the work, it won't do you any good just to memorize anything. You'll never actually learn anything." She shakes her head softly, her gaze still focused on the table as she speaks. The air has changed, it's charged with awkward tension - the electric kind that's hard to ignore for long periods of time. The one that feels as if it's burning her skin, the silence is deafening between them. It’s completely different from the last bit of silence, uncomfortable in two different ways. While the last one was suffocating and clawing at her, this one burns her skin and heat licks at her skin.  

"Outta your head now, c'mon. Do we need to reschedule?" His voice is quiet, much softer than she's used to and it only makes it worse, she shakes her head softly before tilting her head back up to look at him. 

She can't help but to gaze into his emerald green eyes, mapping out every detail of his face - the way his eyelashes brush against his cheeks, the viridescent irises and  his soft pink lips. She clears her throat because she can't allow herself to be thinking of him like that, at the end of the day he's still him and she knows that he hasn't changed at all. As much as she wishes this could be the new normal minus the tension, she highly doubts he's magically changed overnight. She turns her focus to the worksheets and opens the textbook to the correct page, the soft crinkling of the pages as she flips through them fills the space between them. 

Once she's fully settled, she turns her gaze back to Harry and smiles softly. 

"Do you think you can do this worksheet for me? Just don't wanna go over anything you already know or remember." Her voice is quiet, just above a whisper as she speaks as if she's sharing a secret and he shrugs. 

"Y'got a pen?" She nods before reaching one arm into her tote bag and blindly searches for a pen. It takes a couple of seconds before she finally pulls one out and hands it to him. He takes the one from her and frowns at the small shock that happens between their fingertips as they graze one another. He chooses to slide his seat just a little bit away from her - he needs space from whatever weird energy is filling the air surrounding them, before he tilts his head down and brings the pencil to the paper. 

He exhales briefly before beginning to write out the answers, some coming to him quickly while others he struggles to remember what the book says. The faint sound of pencil scratching against the paper mixes in with the sound of the air conditioning blowing and the soft whispers as their peers communicate about projects and books, he can't help but to sneak a glance over to Y/N just to find that she's already looking at him. He averts his gaze quickly and back to the paper, a frown beginning to form on his lips in response. He doesn't know what's gotten into him, the urge to actually do something is stronger than him causing him to willingly do what she says. 

Once he's done, he slides the paper back to Y/N and keeps his gaze on the paper. He can barely make out the outline of her fingers pulling the sheet of paper back to her in the corner of his eye and his frown deepens. The silence has grown even louder, it's banging against their shoulders with every passing moment. Y/N swears she can hear the sound of her own heart beating in her chest. She hates this tension - scratch that, she hates every tension that they have between this one, but especially this one. The tension between them is so electrically charged, thick and heavy and she can’t stand it. She’s fucking confused and annoyed, but it seems shes always at least annoyed with Harry so this should be normal for her. 

She doesn’t understand why this session is so much different than any of the others, obviously the kiss that couldn’t technically be considered a kiss might have something to do with it. She just doesn’t understand why the session is so bad and full of tension over something so small, it’s like a flip was switched overnight. The quietness of the library doesn’t help with it either, it makes it worse because there’s barely any sound happening and it just keeps tugging at the string between them.

 She doesn’t understand why he’s being nice to her all of a sudden. Sure she has a hangover, and she might be a little on the grumpy side and the kiss keeps replaying through her head but it can’t be considered a kiss! Her emotions are just all over the place and Harry decides to suddenly start to tolerate her and be nice to her is definitely not helping the situation. She thinks this has to be a scheme or some trick to her. That definitely fits his nature, being nice only to get some personal gain because he doesn’t seem to think about anyone else but himself. The sound of someone clearing their throat next to her alerts her out of her mind, she turns her head as if to apologize for maybe speaking her thoughts aloud and she’s only met with Harry staring at her. 

His brows are furrowed but there’s no frown on his face, he kind of looks concerned… His eyes shine just a little bit, an emotion she’s never seen before swirls through his irises and she knows right there that she’s not immune to his charm. All these years of bickering and hating on the other, the snarky remarks and shoves and bumps and she still thinks he’s beautiful. 

“Is everything okay, Y/N?” His voice is soft, just a breath above a whisper as he speaks and the girl feels like she needs to cry. She doesn’t under why all this is happening and she hates that it’s jumbling up her brain. 

“I’m fine, I just think I need to go home.” She says as she closes the text book. She needs to lay in bed and scream into her pillow for a little bit, find something to unjumble her brain. She needs to get away from him and whatever parasite or evil scheme he has in his brain, to remember just exactly who he is. 

She begins to pack her things up, she figures Harry won’t care either way; thinks he’d be glad to be away from her. 

“Well, did you want to reschedule?” Harry asks and she shakes her head, they’ve covered enough during this session. 

“It’s okay, we can continue where we left off next time.” Harry only offers her a barely there smile after he speaks, this can’t be him. He must’ve gotten abducted and cloned, or something of the sort cause this makes absolutely no sense. 

She only nods in response as she finishes packing the rest of her things up, telling him bye as she rushes out the door and down the hall. Her mind seems to race a mile a minute; she’s never been good at accepting change, especially drastic changes like whatever happened to Harry overnight. She excuses herself as she tries not to bump into the people littering the halls and pushes the main doors open as she races to her bike. Her scrambled mind is focused on Harry and getting home, and she can only do something about one of those so she unlocks her bike and begins to pedal home. She wishes Harry didn’t affect her this much, to send her spiraling over something so simple and unimportant. When she finally reaches her apartment, she rushes to lock her bike and heads inside. She’s eager to curl up in bed and forget this day ever happened, to forget Harry’s odd behavior and the way it seemed to fuel that tiny spark she held onto for years.

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Can't Hide The Way I'm Feelin' - Pt. 2

You have a propensity for tardiness, and your new interim professor will have none of it.

A/N: Whomp. Pure p*rn, if I'm being honest. Requested by to @gswha. You can read Pt. 1 HERE

TW: 18+ only, Intersex reader, mild choking, multiple orgasms, Nat just being a savage sex fiend.

As you walked into class on Monday, you noticed that she was dressed differently. Her usual sharp business attire was replaced by a more casual ensemble, a tight black sweater and a pair of skinny jeans that hugged her curves like a second skin. You felt a heat rising from your chest to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze. The class was eerily quiet as you took your seat, the only sound was the rustle of pages and the occasional cough.

"Ms. Y/N," she called out, her voice as sharp as ever. You looked up, and she was holding your assignments in her hand. "I've reviewed your work. It's... adequate." The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her to continue. "But we both know you can do better." She paused, her eyes scanning the room before returning to you. "If you wish to improve your grade, I suggest you visit me during office hours."

You felt your heart sink. You had done your best to impress her, to show her that you weren't the slacker she thought you were. But apparently, it wasn't enough. The rest of class passed in a blur, her words echoing in your mind. What more could she possibly want from you?

As the bell finally rang, you packed up your things and made your way out of the classroom, your mind racing. You hadn't even made it to the hallway before you felt a hand on your arm. It was her, Dr. Romanoff. "My office, now," she said, her grip firm. You followed her, unsure of what to expect.

You followed the authoritative click of her heels, her grip firm on your bicep as she pushed you in the direction she wanted. When you reached her office, she didn't bother with pleasantries. She closed the door behind you, the sound echoing through the hallway.

"Take a seat, Ms. Y/N," she said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk. You did as you were told, the anticipation building in your stomach like a coiled spring. "I've noticed an...improvement in your behavior, and to be honest, your work was some of the best I've seen for a while." She placed the assignments down with a smack, her eyes meeting yours, challenging you to argue.

The confusion that must have crept onto your features was clear as day, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and folding her arms over her chest. The fabric of her sweater stretched tightly across her breasts, and you couldn't help but steal a glance before redirecting your gaze.

The look on her face told you that she had caught you staring, a smirk gracing her features. "Do you remember our conversation on Saturday, Y/N?" she asked, her voice a low purr that made you want to squirm in your seat.

"Yeah, I do," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Good," she said, her eyes raking over you. "I've had a small portion of that conversation playing in my head all weekend, Y/N," She leaned forward, her elbows on the desk. "And I've come to a decision. You need a more... personal form of motivation to truly reach your potential. However, I have to know- who is it that holds your attention so dearly?"

You felt your heart drop into your stomach. Did she know? "I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stuttered, trying to play it cool. But she wasn't buying it.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N," she said, her voice firm. "I know you've been thinking about me. And frankly, I've been thinking about you too."

The room felt like it was closing in on you, her words a punch to the gut. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it was no use. "What do you mean?" you managed to croak out.

"I mean," she began, her voice dropping to a whisper, "that I've noticed the way you look at me in class, the way you react to my words. And I must admit, it's intriguing." She leaned closer, her eyes searching yours. "I think you need more than just a firm hand to keep you in line. I think you need...something else."

The air in the room was charged with something unspoken, something that made your palms sweat and your heart race. "What are you saying?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Romanoff's smile grew wider, predatory. "I'm saying that perhaps we can come to an...understanding," she said, her voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "One that will benefit us both."

You sat there, your mind racing, trying to piece together what she was insinuating. Was she...was she flirting with you? The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating. You had never been in a situation like this before, with a teacher, no less. You let a wry smile creep across your face, trying to play it cool. "What kind of understanding are we talking about here, Dr. Romanoff?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she leaned even closer, her breath hot on your face. "The kind where I give you the attention you so clearly crave, and in return, you give me the one thing I've wanted since the moment I laid eyes on you."

You felt your heart skip a beat. "And what could you have possibly wanted since you met me?" you asked, trying to keep the tremble from your voice. Your heart felt like is was about to pound out of your chest, as she stood from behind her desk, walking to the front of it, closing some of the distance between you. She leaned back against the oak surface, crossing her arms and pushing her chest out more.

"Your full attention, Y/N," she replied, her eyes never leaving yours. "And perhaps a bit more."

You swallowed hard, trying to process what she was saying. This was a line you never thought you'd cross, but the temptation was too strong. "Well, Dr. Romanoff," you began, trying to sound as confident as possible, "I have to know what it is you've been wanting me to do for me to do a damn thing about it."

Her smile grew, and she leaned even closer, so close you could feel her breath on your neck. "Is that a yes?" she murmured her voice a siren's call that made your body respond in ways you couldn't ignore.

In a surge of confidence, you stood, completely closing the gap between the both of you. You leaned in, placing your hands on either side of her body, trapping her in front of you. "What's it going to be, Natasha?"

Her eyes widened slightly at your boldness, but the spark of desire grew in her gaze. "If we do this," she whispered, "you're mine, Y/N. In and out of the classroom. No more games, no more slacking off." You groaned at her command, the thought of being hers sent a pulse through your awakening sex.

"Only if," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "If I'm going to be yours, I want all of you. No holding back." You leaned in, your face a mere inch from hers, challenging her to deny you.

Her eyes searched yours, the storm clouds within them swirling with a mix of desire and something darker. "You have no idea what you're asking for," she murmured, but the heat in her voice betrayed her interest.

"Neither do you, Romanoff," you whispered, your voice a seductive challenge. You could feel the thick and palpable tension between you as it hung in the air, charged with a current of something neither of you could ignore. She stared at you, her expression unreadable, but the heat in her gaze was unmistakable.

"Well, Y/N," she began, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "If you want all of me, you'll have to earn it. You'll prove to me that you're worthy of my attention."

You felt a thrill at her words, the challenge in her eyes setting something alight within you. "How do I do that?" you asked, your voice a barely contained growl. She stood up, pressing herself closer to you, your chests now touching and your faces mere inches apart. You try to ignore the spark that erupts everywhere she is in contact with your body, but it is slowly overtaking your senses, and all rationality.

"I think," she stuck her finger in the center of your chest, tracing an absentminded pattern all over, making you internally groan. "That you need to show me what I've heard so much about, Y/N." Her eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt. "Your reputation precedes you." She bites her lip, her eyes darting back and forth between your eyes and lips. "I want to see if you can live up to it."

You smirked, feeling the heat from her body and the way she leaned into you, making you want to devour her whole. "Is that all?" You whispered back, leaning in closer to her ear, making her shiver. "Because I've got more than just a reputation, Natasha." She moaned in your ear at the admission, her body visibly trembling against yours.

Without another word, she grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss that was as fiery as the passion in your eyes. Her tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth, leaving no room for doubt. You felt your knees go weak and had to hold onto the desk to keep from falling. Her fingers wound thier way through your hair, pulling slightly to cause you to moan into the kiss.

Her hands roamed over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You couldn't help but respond, pushing closer, your hands sliding up her sides to rest on her hips. You felt her tighten her grip on you, her nails digging into your skin just enough to let you know she was serious.

The kiss grew more intense, and you could feel your control slipping away. You had never felt this way about a teacher before, but Dr. Romanoff was unlike anyone you had ever met. Her confidence and power were intoxicating, and the way she looked at you made you feel like the most important person in the world.

As you broke away for air, she stepped back, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That's a start," she murmured, her voice a mix of challenge and desire. "But I need to see more." She turned and walked to the door of her office, swinging the lock shut and sliding a chair under the handle. Her hips swaying with an allure that was impossible to ignore as she sauntered around the room.

She made her way back in front of you, her eyes wandering all over your frame, and pausing on the straining bulge in your jeans. She smirked and took a step closer, her hand reaching out to trace the line of your jaw. "Oh, how I have thought and dreamed about this, Y/N."

Her touch was like a spark to dry kindling, setting your body alight with a need that was unbearable. You reached up and grabbed her hand, pressing it harder against your skin, feeling the beat of your pulse beneath her fingertips. "Show me," you breathed. "Show me how much."

With a smirk that could melt the Arctic, she stepped closer, pressing her body against yours. Your hands roamed over her curves, feeling the soft fabric of her sweater and the firmness beneath. She gasped as you found the hem and slid your hands up, feeling the smooth skin of her stomach and the swell of her breasts. Her hand found its way to your waistband, deftly unbuckling your belt and popping the button of your jeans. The sound of the zipper was like a gunshot in the quiet room.

You stepped back slightly, allowing her to push your jeans and boxers down, your erection springing free. She took you in her hand, stroking you gently, her eyes never leaving yours. The look of power in her gaze was something you had never seen before, and it was driving you wild. You reached for her sweater, tugging it over her head and revealing the lacy black bra beneath. Her breasts were full and heavy, begging to be freed.

With trembling hands, you unclipped the clasp and watched as the material fell away, revealing her to you. She was perfection, her skin pale and unblemished, her nipples pink and hard from your touch. You bent down, taking one in your mouth, her gasp making your cock throb in her hand. You teased and suckled, feeling her hand tighten around you as she moaned your name.

Her other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as she ground her hips against yours. The friction was maddening, and you knew you wouldn't last much longer. You reached behind her, sliding her jeans down her legs, taking in the sight of her in just her lacy thong. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband and slid it down, revealing the wetness that had gathered between her thighs. She was ready for you, and the sight made you growl with need.

You knelt before her, spreading her legs apart. Your tongue darted out to taste her, and she moaned your name again. You lapped at her folds, feeling her shiver and buck against your mouth. Her taste was like nothing you had ever experienced before, sweet and salty and all hers. You pushed a finger inside her, feeling her tighten around you, her walls clenching as she grew closer to climax.

Her hand tightened in your hair, guiding you as you worked her body, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. You felt the tension in her legs and knew she was close. You added another finger, pumping them in and out as you flicked your tongue over her clit. She was so wet, so hot, and it was all for you.

You pulled away just as she was reaching her peak, leaving her panting and gasping for breath. "Not yet," you whispered against her skin, causing goosebumps to rise on her thighs. "I want to feel you come around me."

Her eyes blazed with need as she reached down, taking your hand and guiding it to her wetness. "Take me, Y/N," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. "I need you inside me."

Without wasting another moment, you stood and positioned yourself at her entrance. You could feel the heat of her desire, and you knew she was ready. You pushed into her slowly, feeling her walls tighten around you as she took you in. She was so wet, so tight, and the feeling was more than you could handle. You groaned as you filled her, feeling her body quiver in anticipation.

You began to move, setting a rhythm that had her moaning with every thrust. Her nails dug into your back, her legs wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, the only sound other than the muffled cries of pleasure that spilled from her lips.

Her breathing grew more ragged, her hips moving in time with yours. You could feel her getting closer, her muscles tightening around you like a vice. You reached between your bodies, finding her clit and rubbing it with your thumb as you thrust deeper. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she screamed out your name as she came, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm.

The feeling of her contracting around you was too much, and you followed her over the edge, filling her with your release. You held onto her tightly, your breath coming in gasps as you rode out the waves of pleasure. When it was over, you leaned against her, both of you panting and sweaty.

You pulled out slowly, watching as she shivered at the loss of you inside her. You bent down and kissed her softly, tasting the salt of her skin. "You're mine now," she murmured, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction.

"Always have been," you replied, a smug smile playing on your lips. You pulled her into a standing position and kissed her again, her legs wobbly beneath her. She broke away, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Good," she said, her voice a low purr. "Now, let's see if you can handle the rest of what I have planned for you." You groaned as she lowered herself between your legs, taking all of you into her mouth, moaning around your length as she tasted her cum all over your shaft, mixed with yours. The sensation was overwhelming, and you had to hold onto the desk for support.

Her tongue swirled around the head of your cock, pausing as she felt the ball of your piercing on the surface of her tongue. She looked up at you with a knowing smile, her eyes full of mischief. You couldn't believe that you had finally given in to the temptation that had been brewing between the two of you for months. The way she took you in her mouth was like nothing you had ever felt before, and it was clear she knew exactly what she was doing.

You felt your knees wobble as she deep-throated you, her cheeks hollowing out with every bob of her head. Her hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as she worked you with a skill that was both surprising and incredibly erotic. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you let out a low moan, your hands threading through her hair. "Fuck, Natasha."

Her grip tightened as she felt you swell, her movements becoming more urgent. She knew you were close, and she wasn't about to let up. She hummed around you, the vibration sending you into overdrive, your grip tightening on her fiery hair as you began to thrust into her throat. You came hard, filling her mouth with your release, and she swallowed every drop, her eyes never leaving yours.

When you had finished, she stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I've wanted to do that since the first day of class," she said, her voice husky with desire. You couldn't help but chuckle, the situation so intense and yet so unexpectedly intimate.

"Well, I'm sure there's more where that came from," you said, your voice still shaky from the orgasm. She leaned in and kissed you, her tongue sliding against yours, sharing the taste of you with you. It was a claiming kiss, one that left no doubt in your mind that she was now in charge.

Her hands slid down your body, taking in the sight of you, naked and hard for her again. "Impressive," she murmured, her eyes lingering on your cock. "But now it's my turn," she said, a smirk playing on her lips. You watched as she wiped her desk clean, climbing onto it, her legs spread wide, revealing the wetness that glistened between her thighs, her arousal dripping onto the surface below. She leaned back on her elbows, inviting you closer.

You groaned at the sight, slowly pumping your length as you rested the other hand on her ass, slapping it. "You're so fucking wet for me," you said, your voice thick with lust. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes never leaving yours as she spread herself wider.

"I want you to fuck me like you mean it, Y/N," she instructed her voice a mix of need and command. You didn't need any more encouragement than that. You stepped closer, aligning yourself with her slick entrance, and pushed in. She was so tight, so hot, it was like sliding into heaven. She gasped as you filled her, her nails digging into the desk. You set a punishing pace, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. She moaned your name, her back arching as she met you stroke for stroke.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, you pulled her back to you by her hair, her back meeting your heaving chest. You reached up with your other hand, easily sliding over her glistening torso, tweaking her hardened nipple between your fingers. You could feel her tightening around you, her walls clenching as she neared her climax. You slid your hand down, playing with her clit, feeling her shiver and whimper.

"Come for me, detka," you whispered, your voice a dark command. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked at you, her pupils blown wide with desire.

"Y/N," she breathed, her voice a plea. And with one final, powerful thrust, she shattered around you, her body convulsing as she screamed out your name. You watched in awe as she came, her pussy milking your cock, her orgasm so intense it brought you to the brink. With a roar, you followed her over the edge, filling her with your release. She took it all, her body pulsing around you as you emptied into her. When it was over, you both collapsed onto the desk, panting and sweaty.

It took a minute for her to recover before she turned her head to look at you. "When," she panted, still catching her breath. "When did you learn Russian?"

You chuckled, still trying to recover from the intensity of the moment. "I've always had a knack for languages," you replied, leaning down to kiss her neck. She shivered at the contact, a soft moan escaping her lips. "Plus, I have a professor who had me do lots of research work, so I picked up on a few things."

Without another word, she turned around, spreading her legs to straddle you, pulling you closer to her as you stood in between her toned thighs. You stepped up to her, your cock twitching with anticipation. You reached down and slid into her, feeling her tighten around you again. She moaned, her head dropping to your chest. "Fuck, Y/N!"

You began to move, your hips slapping against hers as you took her on the edge of her desk. She was so wet, so hot, and the way she felt around you was driving you wild. You reached down, playing with her clit as you pounded into her, feeling her get closer and closer to another orgasm. Her moans grew louder, filling the room with the sound of our passion. You could feel her muscles tightening around you, her body begging for release.

Her nails dug into your shoulders as she arched her back, her breasts pressing against your chest. You leaned down and took one of her nipples in your mouth, sucking and biting gently, making her whimper. Her movements grew erratic, her hips bucking against yours as she chased her climax. You felt it building, her walls milking you as her orgasm neared. You began to pepper bites and kisses up and down her throat, as she let her head fall backward, her hair forming a red curtain behind her.

"Don't stop," she panted, her voice thick with desire. "Please, don't stop." You could feel her pussy tightening around you, her muscles clenching as she reached the peak. You didn't stop, you couldn't. You drove into her harder, feeling the desk wobble beneath you. Wrapping your arms around her back, your hands resting on her shoulders, you were able to muscle her up, pistoning into her at an obscene rate. Her legs tightened around your waist, her nails digging into your skin as she threw her head towards your shoulder, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, making her entire body convulse around you. You felt yourself grow even harder if that was possible. "Fuck," you grunted, the expletive forced from your chest. You didn't know if you could hold out much longer. The way she felt, the way she smelled, the way she sounded, it was all too much. You felt your own orgasm building, the pressure at the base of your spine growing with every thrust.

Her eyes flew open and she looked at you, a wild look in her eyes. "I'm going to come," she warned her voice a mix of pleasure and urgency. You didn't stop, couldn't stop. You pounded into her, her moans spurring you on as you chased your own release. And then it hit you, a white-hot burst of pleasure that shot through your body like lightning. You came inside her, filling her up with your seed, your body shaking with the intensity of it all.

Her legs tightened around your waist, and she threw her head back, her throat exposed to you as she let out a scream of pure ecstasy. You leaned down and kissed her neck, feeling her pulse racing beneath your lips. You could feel her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her climax as you slowly pulled out, your cock still semi-hard and slick with her juices.

You slowly pulled out of her, resting her on the desk behind. She was a mess of sticky sweat and lust, her chest heaving with every ragged breath she took. You took a moment to admire her, sprawled out like a painting of a conquered goddess, her skin flushed and her eyes glazed over with satisfaction. You couldn't resist leaning in for one more kiss, tasting the salt of your combined sweat, the sweetness of her lip gloss, and the lingering taste of your cum on her tongue.

"Again," she breathed against your lips, her voice a needy whine. You smirked, feeling the beginnings of your arousal stirring once more. How could you resist such an offer?

"Only if I get to taste you, darling." You smirked, bending down to kiss her neck, your teeth grazing her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Dr. Romanoff nodded eagerly, her eyes fluttering shut as you turned her onto her back, her legs still hanging over the edge of the desk. You stepped between them, pushing her thighs apart. The sight of her, glistening and open for you, was almost too much to handle.

You leaned in, your tongue tracing the line of her folds, tasting the remnants of your earlier passion. She gasped, her hips jerking as you found her clit with the tip of your tongue. You took it into your mouth, sucking gently, feeling her body tense beneath you. Her hands tangled in your hair, guiding you, urging you on. The sound of her moans was like music to your ears, driving you almost near madness.

Her legs wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer as you worked your magic. Her hips began to rock against your face, her movements growing more erratic as you pushed her closer to the edge. You grabbed a firm hold on her hips. pinning her to the desk as your tongue began to probe her leaking entrance. She was so wet, and the scent of her arousal was driving you wild. You felt yourself growing hard again, your cock aching to be inside her once more. Trying to quell the desire to sheath yourself inside of her, you inserted two fingers into her, continuing your assault on her clit as you probed her soft, spongy interior.

Her walls tightened around your digits, her moans growing louder as she neared climax. You felt her whole body tense and knew she was close. With one final flick of your tongue, you felt her release. She bucked against your face, her pussy pulsing around your fingers as she came hard. You swallowed her juices greedily, feeling your cock throb with every pulse of her orgasm.

You pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. She looked up at you, her eyes glazed with pleasure, and whispered, "More." You chuckled darkly, moving back between her legs, your cock now fully erect and ready to claim her once again. This time, you didn't hold back, slamming into her without mercy. She took it all, her legs wrapped around you, her nails digging into your back. A guttural moan left her, her lack of shame about being in the middle of a university only spurring you further.

Her breasts bounced with every thrust, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. The scent of arousal mingled with the faint aroma of books and dust, creating an intoxicating cocktail that only served to fuel the fire burning between you. Your hips moved with a primal instinct, the desk beneath you groaning in protest with every pound. You willed your hips to stop, only for a moment, causing the redhead to mewl and writhe beneath you. You shifted her, her legs locking behind you as she tried to pull you in deeper. You swiftly picked her up, and walked over to one of the armchairs in the office, sitting yourself down, with her on top.

"I wanna see you ride me, baby," you growled in her ear, sucking her earlobe in between your teeth. Dr. Romanoff's eyes lit up with excitement, and she straddled you, her slick pussy sliding down your shaft with ease. She began to bounce up and down, her movements growing more confident and wild with every moan that left her lips. You could feel her pussy clench around you, her walls tightening as she approached her peak. Your hands found her hips, guiding her, urging her to go faster, to take all of you. You slipped one hand up, palming one of her breasts, bringing your mouth to the other.

Her moans grew louder, her breathing more ragged as she bounced on your cock. You could feel her orgasm building, her movements growing more erratic as she chased the feeling. You squeezed her breast, rolling the nipple between your thumb and forefinger, eliciting a gasp from her. She leaned back, her hands on your shoulders for balance, her eyes never leaving yours. The sight of her riding you was almost too much to handle, her pussy gripping you like a vice, her ass bouncing with every downward thrust.

"Fuck, you look so good like this, Dr. Romanoff," you taunted, only spurring her on further.

Her hips rolled and gyrated, taking you in deeper with every downward thrust. The wet sounds of your skin slapping together echoed through the office, and you could feel the chair's cushion growing damp with your combined juices. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against your chest.

"Fuck me, Y/N," she moaned, her voice a sweet symphony of need and desire. "Make me scream your name again." You groaned, wrapping one hand around her throat,  the other around her waist, as you set a relentless pace that had both of you on the edge of oblivion. Her movements grew more frantic, her breathing shallow and erratic. The pressure in her core built, her muscles tightening around your cock with every stroke. You met every gyration of her hips with a powerful thrust of your own, your grunts and her moans filling the silence between your skin slapping together.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her nails dug into your shoulders as she climaxed. Her pussy clamped down on you like a vice, her juices flooding over your shaft and her walls quivering around you. "Fuck! Y/N!" she screamed into the office around her. The intensity of her orgasm washed over you, and you could feel yourself on the brink. You didn't stop, didn't dare. Instead, you quickened your pace, pushing her further, watching her face contort with pleasure and pain as she came again and again. Her legs tightened around your waist, her heels digging into your back, urging you to go deeper, harder.

You pulled out of her briefly, flipping her over on the floor in front of the chair so that she had her leg flung over your shoulder, and you could hit that sweet spot with every thrust. You didn't give her a chance to recover before you slammed back into her, filling her completely. She was soaking wet, and the sound of your skin slapping against hers was the sweetest symphony of pleasure and desire. You grabbed her hips, pulling her back to meet every thrust, her moans turning into screams of ecstasy. The slap of flesh echoed through the room, mixing with the sound of your heavy breathing. You could feel her tightening around you, her pussy gripping you as she neared another climax.

Your hand snaked around her throat, not too tightly but enough to add an edge to the already intense moment. You squeezed gently, feeling her pulse against your fingertips, her eyes snapping to yours, wide with a mix of fear and excitement. You could tell she liked it a little rough, and the way she responded only turned you on more. "Come for me," you ordered, your voice low and demanding. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she screamed your name as she shuddered around your cock, her orgasm sending waves of pleasure through her body. The feeling of her essence spraying around your throbbing member, milking you towards your oblivion sent you over the edge, your hips stuttering as you collapsed on top of her.

Her legs quivered as she came down from the high, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her neck, feeling her pulse slow down. You pulled out of her gently, watching as your cum dripped out of her still-spasming pussy. The sight was obscene, but incredibly erotic, making you want to take her again and again. You looked up at her, a smug smile playing on your lips. "Good girl," you murmured, stroking her hair.

Dr. Romanoff pushed herself up onto her elbows, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "You know, Y/N," she said, her voice a mix of breathlessness and amusement, "you really are a quick learner.” You had never felt so alive, so desired. It was a power exchange that you never knew existed, and you reveled in it. You were hers, and she was yours, and the thought was as thrilling as it was terrifying.

As the shadows grew long outside her office window, she finally pulled away, her chest heaving with exertion. "I think," she murmured, her voice thick with desire, "that we've made a good start.” You nodded, unable to form coherent words. Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, her voice a promise of more to come.

[kingkatsuki]

Kaji doesn't mind attending any parties with you, especially when you get all dressed up for him. But he'll admit, the remote controlled vibe that's currently stuffed inside your panties makes them slightly more bearable. The only problem this time? Togame Jou finds out.

Don't judge my weird choices in threesome pairings, it could happen okay!!

Pairing: Kaji Ren x Togame Jou x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, dubcon (reader doesn't mind but consent is never explicitly stated/asked), public setting, implied intoxication, remote controlled vibrators, sharing control of the vibrator, dirty thoughts.

Word Count: 4.2k.

It wasn’t really that Kaji hated parties per se. He enjoyed being around rowdy people as they enjoyed themselves, it made him feel part of the action. But on nights like these when you’d taken the time to make yourself extra pretty, wearing a cute short dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. Kaji, without a doubt, would much rather be at home bending you over the nearest surface. And in an ideal world more than once—

Of course, Tsubaki’s annual birthday party was an engagement that neither of you could get out of (not that you would’ve ever wanted to when you were his best friend), so Kaji wouldn’t even bother to try—knowing all too well that Hiragi would probably chastise him for missing it, just as much as you would. 

But he had something at least, his phone clasped firm in his hand as he slumped back on a couch in the corner. His thumb smoothing against the screen as he made the pink line swish against it, sucker positioned between his teeth and gum as he watched your reaction. Your hand reached out to grasp Tsubaki’s arm as you stumbled from foot to foot, thighs clenched together as the pair of you giggled afterwards. Kaji wasn't sure who was more drunk as Tsubaki wobbled in those high heeled boots, both of you barely able to stand as his lips pressed against the side of your face to try and whisper into your ear as he left a line of crimson in their wake.

You turned to shoot Kaji a look from across the room as you gave him an adorable pout, your nose scrunched in irritation as your cup of alcohol had almost spilt to the floor. The corner of Kaji’s lip curled in the slightest hint of a smirk as he took pity on you and moved the line back down towards the bottom of the screen, noticing the relived look on your features as you turned your attention back to the elaborate story Umemiya was apparently telling. His cup held high in the air as liquid sloshed around, Kaji was able to get the tail end of it over the loud thrum of bass as he talked about his prized tomatoes. 

It had been a little over an hour since Kaji had bent you over the back of the couch before you’d both left for this party. Pulling your panties to the side as he licked the tip of the small pink bullet that he prepared to place inside you, his thumb spreading your folds as he leaned back to see your tight little hole peering back at him as he teased the tip of silicone against it. Watching you writhe into his touch as he wondered whether he should just fuck you here and now, his semi already pulsed beneath black skinny jeans as you gave him a sultry whine.

“We’re going to be late,” You complained, wiggling your hips back against him as Kaji continued to stroke the tip of the toy against your tight hole. Barely breaching the first rim as you tried to look back at him.

“We don’t have to go at all, you know.” He murmured. Knowing that one little pulse of the toy against your clit would be enough to garner your attention for the evening.

“It’s Tsubaki-chan’s birthday,” You gasped as he began to push the pink toy inside your ill-prepped hole, feeling a slight stretch from how dry you were as his spit did little to satiate the throb, “We have to at least go for a few hours.”

Kaji’s jaw locked in irritation but he didn’t bother to respond. He knew how close you were to the former Furin King, and how excited you’d been to celebrate his birthday together. Hopefully, he’d manage to sneak you out after a few hours, and you wouldn’t be subjected to one of Umemiya’s long speeches before the cake.

“Fine,” Kaji huffed, pulling your panties to the side as he could just about make out the pink tail of the toy through the sheer lace of your panties. Giving your crotch a playful swat as you gasped in a mixture of surprise and pleasure as he helped you back into a standing position, smoothing down the skirt of your dress as he gazed down at you with furrowed brows.

“Don’t be mean with this,” You tried to glare at him, but it just made him smile and shake his head, “The last time I thought it was going to slip out of me and everyone would hear it.”

“It ain’t my fault you get that wet from a little teasin’.” Kaji scoffed as he took your hand in his to pull out of the front door. The sooner you left, the sooner he could get you home.

“A little teasing isn’t turning it up to the highest setting, Ren.”

"Just let me have my fun."

And of course, he was being nice. Why wouldn’t he be?

Perfectly content to watch you as he continued to absentmindedly move his thumb against his phone screen. Wondering how wet you were right now, and whether he could coax you away from your best friend for five minutes to sneak a hand beneath your dress to find out – That might be enough to get you to leave earlier than expected too – knowing all too well how you became like putty the moment his fingers would skim your clit. Every so often you’d move in just the right way that had your skirt riding up, and he was certain that he could see a flash of your panties. 

Biting back a groan as heavy metal played through his headphones, Kaji began to move the line in time with the beat of the song. A stark contrast to the constant drum sounding over the party speakers as you shot him a knowing look, trying to figure out what it was he was listening to as you shook your head. 

“Is this a new game or somethin’?” Kaji barely heard him over his music as someone came up behind the back of the couch to swipe his cell phone out from between his fingers and he immediately turned his head to the side with a glare. Tugging his headphones down to rest around his neck as Togame flopped down beside him on the couch with his thighs spread wide as he looked down at the screen, “I never understood the appeal of these puzzle games.”

“Ain’t a fuckin’ game.” Kaji snarled as he tried to grab the phone back, moving his lollipop to settle on the flat of his tongue as Togame swiftly held the phone away from his reach with a lazy smile.

“So what is it then?” Togame drawled, “Cause it looks like a game to me.”

Kaji fought the urge to bite down on the strawberry sucker in his mouth as he tried to relax his breathing, tempted to throw a punch at the man in front of him and start a brawl in the middle of the party— but he knew you’d kill him for ruining Tsubaki’s special day. His nose scrunched and fangs bared as his hands tightened into fists, blunt nails digging into his palms as he fought the urge to swing, “Give me the phone. Now.”

“So possessive over a phone, I can’t imagine what you must have on there,” Togame laughed, “Don’t worry I definitely don’t want to see your dick pics — but if you’ve got any photos of your girl on here I wouldn’t mind a peek. She's looking extra gorgeous tonight—”

Kaji wasn’t naive. He knew anyone in their right mind would think you were attractive. He often caught various guys from Furin talking about how pretty you were and the debauched, depraved things they’d do to you given the chance— but this was different. It was the first time he had another guy sat in front of him openly talking about the things he’d like to do to you, and somehow it made an intense fire begin to burn inside him at the thought. The fact that he had something that others coveted. 

“You wish.” Kaji sneered, but Togame had already begun to move his finger along the screen. Holding the phone in one hand as he used his index finger to draw random patterns, his eyes furrowed in concentration as he tried to decipher what he was actually achieving.

“There’s no points system?” Togame turned to Kaji perplexed, pointing to the top corner, “Candy Crush usually puts it in the top corner— here.”

“It ain’t that kind of game.” Kaji glared, but he couldn’t help glancing over at you across the room to see how you were dealing with the movements. Watching as you took another sip of your drink as Kotoha placed a hand on your forearm to ask if you were okay, already feeling yourself coming close to the edge.

“Oh?” Togame looked up from the phone screen to try and follow Kaji’s line of sight as he found you standing across the room wearing a pretty dress that had a slew of lewd thoughts running through his mind as his cock kicked beneath his baggy sweats, “Oh, so that’s why you’re always so quiet at parties huh?”

Kaji understood since Togame had befriended Sakura that he was now by an extension a friend of Furin alumni, but it didn’t mean that he found him any less annoying. 

“Yeah, so give it back.”

“Nah, I don’t think I will.” Togame smiled, “It looks like she’s enjoying it.”

And Togame was right, you did look like you were enjoying it. Your lashes fluttered as your eyes rolled, revealing the whites behind them as you bit down on your glossy bottom lip hard, trying to keep your focus on the conversation but Kaji could tell you were struggling. This was the point where he’d usually take pity on you and turn the vibrations down to a gentle hum so you could relax a little, and keep edging you until you were both alone to give you the orgasm you deserved. But the black-haired man beside him seemed to have other plans, seemingly intent on watching you come undone in a sea of people. 

“Come on— Just five minutes,” Togame continued, “What’s the rush?” 

“Fine.” Kaji glared, still facing forward as glanced to the side to see Togame’s finger still moving furiously against the screen. “But don’t let her cum.” 

“Why not?” Togame moved to rest his head against the back of the couch as he watched you carefully, “Isn’t that the point.”

“No.” Kaji spat back, tight-lipped as he crossed his arms over his chest to stop himself from fighting back. Biting the sucker in his mouth between his teeth as the candy crumbled, crunching the pieces into tiny sugary pieces as he kept the stick between his lips. Only he got to decide when you got to cum, and it definitely wouldn’t be at the hands of a guy from Shishitoren.

“Seems like a waste of time for her not to cum,” Togame hummed pensively, “Edging her all night, or overstimulating her so she squirts all over the floor? I know which one I’d pick–”

Kaji groaned low at the back of his throat at the image of you that Togame had managed to plant in his head. Picturing you standing there all pretty as pearly tears clumped in your thick lashes and a clear stream of squirt soaked through your panties and drooled down your inner thighs towards the ground. Soaking the floor as you try desperately to hide your mess as the same small toy continues to buzz inside you. 

“Would be even hotter if she was wearing jeans, though.” Togame sighed, “Watching her soak ‘em straight through–”

“How do you know so much?” Kaji knew he was older, but he hadn’t expected this out of the usually quiet and reserved man.

“If you’re asking whether I’ve done this before, I haven’t,” He laughed, “I just watch a lot of shit, I guess. Nothing has been as hot as her, though.” 

Kaji rolled his eyes at the comment. Wondering if he’d ever fucked his fist raw to the thought of you, picturing you in all those positions he watched in porn. 

“What do you think she’ll say when she realises that it's me controlling it and not you?”

“Dunno.” Kaji debated the question. 

It was never something that had come up when you’d both bought the toy. A silly impulse purchase that had been intended to spice up your romance in the bedroom, and had somehow evolved into you wearing it out and about while Kaji controlled it. But you’d never once mentioned the thought of giving someone else the power over the small vibrating bullet, wondering whether there was even anyone that you’d allow to have that control over you. 

“You don’t think she’d mind–” Togame mused, his half-lidded eyes would’ve made it appear as though he was falling asleep if it wasn’t for his finger continuing to trace messy lines.

“I’ll get her off anyway, so I’m sure she won’t mind.” Kaji spat back, uncharacteristically self-assured. He’d had you unravelling on his cock and tongue far more times than he cared to count, there was no way he’d ever let someone — especially not someone from Shishitoren — gain the upper hand. 

“Is she that easy, hm?” Togame spoke languidly as he watched the subtle way your thigh began to quiver, lips parted in a silent moan that had him swallowing thickly. 

“Don’t call her easy, asshole.” Kaji spat.

“Hey now, there’s no need to be like that.” He smiled tilting his head to the side as his cheek leaned against the back of the couch, “What colour is it?”

“What?” Kaji furrowed his brows in confusion, caught off guard by the sudden question.

“The toy– what colour is it?”

Why did that even matter? Kaji gave Togame a perplexed look, “Pink.”

“How pretty,” He grinned, “She got panties on?”

Togame asked just as Kaji had answered the first question, as though he was afraid that if he took too long to ask any more he wouldn’t get an answer at all.

“Yeah.” Kaji adjusted himself in his seat as he shifted his thighs, trying to quell the desperate throb that emanated in his pelvis as he felt his boxers drag against rough denim. Creating subtle friction that had him involuntarily rutting his hips to try and chase the sensation, picturing how much better it would feel if you were straddling his lap and grinding down on him. 

“Fuck.” Togame groaned under his breath at the answer, his finger instantly pushing the bar as high as it would go as you gasped in surprise. Dropping your plastic cup to the ground as the last dregs of alcohol pooled on the floor beneath your feet. 

It had both men on the couch imagining that the clear puddle was a pool of your slick as you began to blurt out apologies to Umemiya. 

“God, I want to ruin her.” Togame muttered beneath his breath as he kept the vibrations high, “She’s so cute.”

You glared across the room at Kaji again, the pleasure shrouding your mind meant you didn’t even notice he was no longer holding his cell phone as you felt another wave of pleasure roll through you. Dancing on the precipice of your climax as Umemiya placed a hand on the small of your back to question whether you’d like another drink, a movement that had your cheeks flushed scorching hot as you wondered whether he could feel the tiny toy vibrating wildly inside of you. It had to be on the highest setting with the way you were certain you could hear it, even over the loud music and raucous laughter. 

You smiled at Umemiya with a nod, accepting his offer for another drink as you pulled out your cell phone to text Kaji. You wanted to storm across the room and tell him it was all too much, but you weren’t even certain your legs would carry you that far. Bracing your forearms against the kitchen counter as you began to type a message. 

You[9.48PM]: Ren turn it down.

You[9:50PM]: I just spilt a drink and I almost came in front of Ume. That’s so fucking embarrassing.

“Aww, she thinks it's still you controlling it.” Togame grinned, ignoring your pleas for mercy as he showed the text chain to Kaji, allowing him to read the new messages you’d sent through. Doing the opposite of your request he instead moved his finger to turn the toy up higher, “Are you gonna tell her, or shall I?”

“Turn it off.” Kaji glared, reaching into his jeans pocket to grab a fresh lollipop as he toyed with the wrapper. Tugging it between blunt fingers he began to unravel it, shoving the plastic in his hoodie pocket as he shoved the candy into his mouth to try and stop the desire to snap at the older man. 

“Or are we gonna let her find out on her own.” Togame ignored him completely.

You[9.52PM]: I’m gonna cum.

Togame’s eyes lit up like an excited child on Christmas receiving their dream gift from Santa as he shifted his focus to where you were standing across the room. Keeping the pulses high and the speed intense as you felt as though you’d been electrocuted. The sensation was so powerful that Kaji was tempted to get off the couch and leave his phone with Togame to bend you over and pull the toy out of you but didn’t trust the man enough to not go through your private pictures in his absence. 

“Stop the toy.” Kaji glared, “You’ve had enough.”

“Aww but you said five minutes, and she’s about to cum—”

“I told you, you don’t get to make her cum.” Kaji had enough, taking advantage of Togame’s distractedness as he reclaimed his cell phone— but he wasn’t quick enough. 

The vibration setting remained high as you felt your orgasm surge through you hard and fast. Holding onto the island counter by the kitchen as you came hard, pursing your lips together to stop yourself from crying out in pleasure as euphoria took over. Your velvety walls clamped down around the buzzing toy as it pressed firm against that same spongy spot inside you, blinking back the white spots that clouded your vision as you tried to remember to breathe. 

Kaji often used the toy to tease you in public, but he rarely (if ever) allowed you to cum. The shame and embarrassment started to ebb away at you as you wondered if anyone had noticed or if anyone could hear. The vibrations were still so intense that you could feel them all the way to your clit as you squeezed your thighs together to try and quell the incessant throb that continued to jump inside you. 

And the position you were now in did little to help your predicament. Leaning over the table as the skirt of your dress began to ride up, so both men across the room could get the most perfect teasing glimpse of the curve of your ass beneath the short dress you were wearing.

“Fuck, are you sure she’s even wearing panties?” Togame grunted, shifting his position on the couch as he subtly smoothed a palm along his front to press against his crotch in a feeble attempt to alleviate the tension in his pelvis, “The toy could just slide right out, no?”

“She’s wearing ‘em,” Kaji sucked his chupa chups, “I put it in her.”

“Shit,” He groaned, “You lucky bastard.”

Kaji knew he should’ve turned the toy off there and then. Desperately close to creaming his pants as he watched you come undone in front of your closest friends, politely accepting another cup of alcohol off Umemiya as you tried to pretend that nothing was wrong. But he took enough pity on you to turn it down, letting the vibrations dull to a constant gentle pulse as you gained enough sense to try and make your way across the room to him. 

Inhaling deeply before setting off on shaky knees, gripping the plastic cup Umemiya had given you so roughly that it concave in your grip, the liquid almost spilling out and down your dress as you took a sip. 

But what you don’t expect to see when you come closer is the old number two in command of Shishitoren, Togame Jou, sitting beside him. 

“Hey, sweetheart. You havin’ fun?” Togame grinned, “Your boyfriend’s been letting me into your little secret.”

“W-what?” 

Pleasure continued to shroud your thoughts as you barely managed to sit yourself down haphazardly on Kaji’s lap as he wrapped an arm around the curve of your ass, resting his hand on your thigh as the other held the phone. 

Kaji could feel the vibrations flowing through you and resounding against his thighs. Your ass shifted on his lap as he felt you brush against his clothed, neglected cock he found himself pressing you down on him with more pressure. 

“Turn it off please.” You whimpered in his ear, and he couldn’t mask the deep, guttural groan that left his lips at how pitiful you sounded. 

“I don’t think she deserves to have it switched off yet,” Togame continued and it was then that it dawned on you. 

He knew. 

“You know what that is?”

Your shaky hand reached out to turn the toy off completely as you heaved a sigh of relief, your hand loosened against the plastic cup as you raised a shaky hand to your lips to chug some back. 

“Course I do, sweetheart.” He grinned, “Kaji over here even let me have a go, didn’t you?” 

You felt Kaji’s grip tighten against you as the realisation dawned on you that he’d let Togame control your vibrator too. 

“Didn’t think I’d be able to make you cum that hard without touching you, though.” 

“Don’t tell anyone.” You mumbled, cheeks flushed as the molten heat continued to drop through your veins like lava. 

“Don’t worry,” He smiled, “It can be our little secret.”

“I would love to see the mess I made of you, though.” Togame quickly glanced at Kaji before giving his undivided attention back to you, “Is that okay?”

It was Kaji’s comforting touch on your leg that had you slowly moving to appease both men. You instinctively began to part your thighs as emerald eyes focused on the space between your legs, clearly seeing the dark patch against your blade panties as he let out a desperate groan beneath his breath. He leaned forward to drag two of his knuckles against it as he felt how wet you were, the material of your panties catching against his skin as he watched you bite down on your bottom lip hard. 

“Is she always this wet?” He groans, asking as though you’re not even there. 

“Pretty much,” Kaji mumbled as you shifted on his lap again. Tempted to unbutton his jeans and have you sit on his cock right now, even though the room was abuzz with your closest friends.

“Shit,” Togame choked back a while, “You’re pure sin, sweetheart. Pure fucking sin.”

“You can go now,” Kaji responded bluntly, glaring across at the man.

“Now, now,” Togame drawled, “There’s no reason to be like that— especially when I made your girl cum hard, didn’t I sweetheart?”

“I knew something was up,” You mumbled, “He never turns it up that high.”

“Clearly you don’t know what you’re missing out on,” Togame laughs, loud and boisterous, “I thought I was gonna have you squirtin’ all over the kitchen floor.”

The thought alone had embarrassment blooming inside you, as you tried to ignore the way your heart rattled against your ribcage. Immediately closing your thighs as you tried to calm yourself down, your needy clit throbbing with neglect. 

“But I’m still glad I got to make you cum, pretty girl.” Togame grinned. 

You’d probably kill Kaji for this later— allowing another person to see what you were both doing when you were out in public, but first, you needed to tame the throb that was still emanating from your core as your tight hole begged to be filled with something bigger. Hopeful that Kaji would walk you home and give you everything you’d been missing as he fucks you into the shape of his cock. 

“We’re going home,” Kaji spoke as though it was a statement, not a question as he helped stand you up off the couch as he ensured your dress was fixed. 

“Wait, wait, wait. What’s the rush?” Togame droned, “I just got one more thing to ask before you go, but it’s a question for you.”

It felt intimidating the way Togame’s green eyes were watching you, almost surveying you as he pulled his head up from the back of the couch to meet your gaze. 

“He got to put that little toy in you,” Togame nods towards Kaji, “So can I be the one to take it out?”

[miguelhugger2099]

Hello sweetie, hoping you're doing well! What about bully punk Miguel and nerd pastel girl reader at college? (Miguel with 23 and reader with 21) Like reader was ugly and will have a glow up thanks to MJ and now Miguel tries to have her attention, they have a date and sweet and fluff smut!! (reader is virgin uwu) I'll let to you the creativity

Impurities

hello sweetheart you absolute DARLING i genuinely could be better but i hope ur doing great. i want to apologize for taking so long but i want u to know when i saw this i just about melted bc punk miguel is one of my guilty pleasures i adore him so much. this ask made me want to evolve it into a series i had like several different ways to make this but ahhhh i hope it's alright

Punk!Miguel x Pastel!Reader, Fluff and Smut, Word Count: 8,875 Art by: beawoodward on artstation !

You knew you weren’t the most appealing girl out there. You weren’t about to delude yourself otherwise. You knew what people said about you, how they looked at you. Your face could’ve been worse. Maybe some bushy eyebrows? You dressed…maybe a little different than most people. While the world was covered in grays and black, you opted out by showering yourself in the cutest pastel colors. You didn’t keep up with the trends and instead followed whatever you thought looked alright. It often led to some mismatching and awkward outfits but you didn’t think so! You entered campus with a light blue and pink striped pants with a pink belt and a baby blue sweater. Two low braids tied with white ribbons at the end and your white framed glasses on the bridge of your nose. Skincare was confusing to you so all you really did was wash your face with a harsh cleanser and hoped for the best which gave you some acne instead–making you pop them and leave some scars. You tried makeup but it just looked cakey so you settled with a messy and often uneven eyeliner. Regardless of your outfit, whether in a skirt or in pants, you were always decked out in some bright pastel colors and hair done in the same two braids. You held yourself close while walking around the halls, already used to people staring and calling you names from high school. College was a little more merciful, the whispers being just as loud but at least they’d never bully you to your face. You win some, you lose some. Your self-esteem had been damaged to the point of no return anyway, so any attempts of trying to prove you’re worth something would just be a pipe dream in your eyes. That’s why you push your glasses up and cling to your shoulder bag tightly in your fist as you pass by the usual group of boys to get to the front seat of your class. Your human biology class door was opened at the back so you’d have to pass the back seats to sit at the front. As usual, the group of boys were basically monochrome except for the little specks of red or blue if they ever decided to add color. But what was most noticeable about them was the so-called leader of said group. Unofficial–official– leader Miguel O’Hara, the senior who decided to take general education classes in his last year before graduating. His usual confident and toothy grin was on display, silver spider bites that his, also pierced, tongue would often play with. His big and heavy platform boots would rest on the chair beside him while his left elbow rested on the table, his hand combing through his long brown hair–shaved at the sides, mind you. He made sure to push his fringe back so everyone could see his double eyebrow and nostril piercing. Miguel’s hands were decorated with rings, big and small and his nails were short and painted black with some of it chipping off. His usual leather jacket with pins and patches, stretched and tight from his muscular build, was accompanied by a low red tank top with a spider symbol on the front. Black skinny jeans and a spiked belt that did little to actually keep his pants in place since the black and red band of his boxers were showing.

He listened mindlessly to his group of friends as they talked with each other, his fingers switching between playing with the dangling earring on his earlobe to his industrial bar. His crimson eyes glanced up when he saw you in your uncomfortably bright and awkward fashion sense. His friend tapped his shoulder and jutted his chin out to you before whispering something in Miguel’s ear that made him shove him away with a smile. Then they both laughed as quietly as possible, chuckling at what you decided to wear today: light blue overall shorts and a pastel yellow undershirt with white knee high stockings and white sneakers, your usual white ribbons at the end of your braids.

You usually sat alone at the front, placing your earbuds in to listen to music while you waited for the professor. Despite being at the front, you could still hear some faint chuckling and words being whispered from Miguel's group.

Still, you held your head up, taking out your notebook and expensive textbook. Clicking your pen, you began some light note taking before class started.

You sighed as you entered back in your dorm, dumping your bag at the door and kicking off your shoes. You faceplated down onto your bed while your roommate MJ looked over at you sympathetically.

You turn your head, cheek squished against the mattress. “I know that beauty is subjective and I'm not supposed to earn validation from anybody else but…” You sit up and rest on your legs, hands wringing in your hands with furrowed eyebrows.

“But…I want to feel pretty.” You admit softly, ashamed since you felt like you were betraying yourself.

MJ's smile grows and she eagerly jumps from her bed to kneel at your bedside. She takes your hands in hers and squeezes them reassuringly.

“You are pretty,” She insists. “But if you really want help, I can.” MJ tilts your head to look at her, a soft smile on her face.

You nod. “I do. I just want to know how to look like you.”

MJ shakes her head. “No. No, you already have your own beauty.” She places a hand on her chest. “I meant that I can help enhance it. No change to your core is necessary.” She pokes at your chest playfully and you both giggle together.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” 

You take a moment to look at her. MJ really was perfect–shiny straight red hair, clear skin that was painted with freckles and a winning white smile. You hoped she could work some magic on you.

“Okay.”

Your transformation didn't happen overnight. It took at least a few weeks for it all to come together.

MJ had dragged you to salons to get your hair properly taken care of. Gotten your eyebrows plucked, eyelashes lifted, an effective skincare routine–that you struggled to drill into your regular schedule–and a new wardrobe that still held your pastel look, just a little more flattering. She even helped you get some contact lenses so you wouldn’t need your glasses all the time! To tie it all together, you two spent nights practicing how to do your makeup that wouldn't look so wobbly and uneven. Each day, you improved yourself. Your tacky overalls changed into fitted jeans or flowy skirts. Your baggy shirts were now cute tops that hugged each curve. Tennis shoes into heels or cute sneakers and your hair came to life with a beautiful shine; your white ribbon still in your hair.

One day, you entered class like normal. Except there were very few whispers this time, almost nonexistent. Still, you don’t let it get to you and continue like normal–walking to the front of the class and sitting in your usual spot. What wasn’t normal was a figure coming up beside you and pulling out the chair next to you. Miguel slipped beside you in front of the class, tilting his head as he stared at your side profile. You tried not to react but you subconsciously glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

“Hey.” He smirked, his eyebrow raising and his lips curling.

“Hello.” You murmured back, opening your notebook to the next blank page.

“New look?” He asked, using his hand to brush your hair back off your shoulder and you stiffened. He noticed you still had the white ribbon at the back of your head. Miguel’s eyes glanced back down at your body. Nicely fitted flare baby blue jeans, a cute pastel green heart belt with a crop top white sweater.

“Looks good.” He purred. You held your blue bunny pen in your hand tightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t understand why he was speaking to you. He hadn’t before–other than laugh at you–so what gives?

“Thanks.” You say curtly. Miguel places a hand over her heart in feign hurt.

“Don’t be like that, nena. You look so cute, I didn’t expect you to be so cold.” He teased. He crossed his arms and rested his head on them to look up at you while you wrote the rest of your notes down before class started. Miguel watched as your false eyelashes fluttered, making your eyes look bigger. The subtle blush on your cheeks and the concealer that hid most of your past acne. He could still see some of the scars which makes him huff a small laugh at how cute it kinda looks. Your lips were more plump than he remembered–a soft pink to them. He lifts his arm up to rest his cheek on his fist, his eyes still on you. “How about I take you out?” Your pen slips and leaves a slash right down your notes. “What?” “A date. Does that sound good?” You don’t look up, instead focusing on your task at hand. “No. Can you please just leave me alone?” Miguel doesn’t say anything else but you hear the chair he sat on scrape across the floor as he gets up abruptly. You hear the laughter of his friends behind you and Miguel snapping at them. Your shoulders hunch over–the natural instinct to hide from embarrassment overcoming you again.

Every week, in the same class, Miguel would try again and again and again to ask you out. Each time, you would decline. It had gotten bad enough where he changed his seat to move beside you, offering his help when he saw you were confused and overall just trying to get on your good side. You wanted to be strong, truly you did, but it was becoming too much. When Miguel had asked again, you sighed loudly and faced him. “If I say yes will you leave me alone?” Miguel broke into a wide smile. Once you finally agreed to a date with him, you truly weren’t expecting anything good. So you stood by the place Miguel wanted you to meet him at: a local diner that was pleasantly pretty looking from the outside. Still, due to your past experiences of being ghosted and stood up, you watched the time on your phone. You decided that you wouldn’t wait more than fifteen minutes max.

To your surprise, you didn’t have to wait at all. You heard Miguel call your name from your left, his lips curled into a confident smile. Subconsciously, you eyed him up and down. He had baggy black cargo pants, accompanied with chains on his right side. A DIY-ed t-shirt that was sprayed painted over many many times. Of course, his iconic leather jacket was littered with various pins and patches. When he was close enough, you saw just a bit of eyeliner surrounding his eyes; and a new septum piercing. For the people passing by, it was quite a sight to see. Compared to Miguel’s dark but proud aura, you emanated a more sweet and bright vibe. MJ had helped you pick out an outfit, excited that you approached her with the dilemma of going on a date. You wore a sheer baby blue crop top cardigan with a simple white tank top underneath. A slightly darker blue pleated skirt with white thigh high stockings and ankle strap baby blue platform pumps. You held a small purse in your hands and looked up at him through your  lashes. Your hair was pinned in a half up and half down hairstyle; your white ribbon at the back of your head. You thought it was a bit much, but MJ assured you that it was just enough. “Te ves muy hermosa.” Miguel speaks up, a grin on his lips. “All for me?” He teases with a tilt of his head. A piece of his fringe falling over his forehead. “Oh, please.” You look off to the side, ignoring the flutter in your chest when called beautiful. Miguel doesn’t take it to heart, instead going past you to open the door of the diner. He dramatically takes a bow, his arm ushering you inside. The theatrics make the corner of your lips quirk up and you enter inside, nodding to Miguel. You turn your head around to see the inside, wooden chairs and tables, a jukebox at the back with a shiny bar. “This way.” You stiffen when you feel Miguel’s breath by your ear. Before you could turn, he places his hand on your lower back and leads you to a booth by the window. He sits across from you, menus at the ready on the table. “You know, I used to come to this place all the time.” Miguel says, his eyes scanning the different options. “Used to be a hangout spot for me and the others in high school. College took up my time so it’s a pain in the ass not being able to visit more.” You glance up at him, shuffling in your seat. It felt a little weird to have him speak to you like this, as if he wasn’t teasing you a few months ago.

Luckily, a waitress comes up before you two with a notepad in hand. “Oh! A pretty girl! Didn’t know you were back in the dating scene.” She cackles to herself and pushes her glasses up. Miguel groans and rolls his eyes. “I thought you didn’t work Fridays, Lyla.” “Margo couldn’t make it, I needed extra hours–and now a bonus– I get to embarrass you. Everybody wins! Except you maybe. Waddaya want?” Lyla rests on one foot, her grin plastered on her face. Miguel’s smile was long gone, now snapping his order at his friend. You watched with an amused smile. They bantered like siblings. But what she said piqued your interest. He hadn’t gone around dating? You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Miguel call your name. His eyes were uncharacteristically soft. “Do you need another minute?” He asks. You stumble over your words and feel your cheeks burn. “No-no, uhm…” You look down at your menu and pick the first thing you see. “The, uh, chicken fajitas, please?” Lyla meets you with a smile and collects your menu. “Of course, darling.” She turns to take Miguel’s menu. “Couldn’t you have taken her to a nicer place? She’s all dolled up.” Lyla sticks her tongue out at him and walks away while Miguel’s cheeks burn red. Instead of facing you, he looks down at his hands and he picks at his black nail polish.

For once, Miguel had stayed silent. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he looked a little ashamed? Embarrassed? You could see him moving his spider bites nervously as he stares at anything besides you, his cheeks still tinged red. You pat your skirt awkwardly and clear your throat. “The…I like the diner. It’s got one of those retro vibes to it. It’s cool.” You give a small encouraging smile. For some strange reason, you thought his quietness didn’t suit him. Miguel’s eyes dart to yours and then at the window. “You think?” His hand reaches up to play with his dangling earring. It was almost cute. Just a bit. You chuckle softly. “Yeah, I mean. It’s like being in one of those time machines.” Miguel smiles. “Time machines? I think a time machine would look cooler than this dump.” You playfully smack his hand across the table. “Didn’t you say you used to come here years ago? Don’t call it a dump.” You fold your arms on your chest. You didn’t know this, but Miguel in that moment felt the tension he didn’t realize he had fell off his shoulders. “Eh, it’s a little bit of a dump.” He leans back and stretches his arm on the backseat. “But it’s like you said: a little retro.” Lyla returns with two glasses of water. “One for the cutie,” she places one on your side, giving you a wink. “And then Miguel.” She unenthusiastically hands Miguel the cup.

Miguel frowns at Lyla, a familiar bubble of jealousy brewing in his chest. “Lyla.” He warns. “What?” She stretches out the word. “Just being a good hostess.” She huffs with a pout and walks away. You giggle to yourself and Miguel notices. He’s quick to speak. “Ignore her. She’s always trying to be annoying.” He didn’t like the way Lyla was buttering you up, even if it was just a joke. He wanted you to smile at him like that. “It’s funny. I never thought I’d see you looking so bothered. How do you know her?” You smile and take a sip from your water. Miguel scratches the back of his head. “Middle school. We were in the robotics club.” You blink. “Robotics club? Really?” “Why’re you so surprised? What? A guy like me can’t be into things like that?” He smirks, placing his arms on the table and his pins rattle as he moves. “Well…kind of?” You smile weakly and laugh when Miguel pretends to be hit. “No, but seriously, robotics isn’t what I expected from you.” “Well, it was middle school. I’ve grown up into a man. This time I’ve taken an interest in being a geneticist.” He rests his head on his hand. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, nena.” He teases but you pause. That phrase is a little ironic for him to say, you thought to yourself. Shaking off that feeling, you continued to chat with Miguel. Talking about your interests, past, future and current studies. All while Miguel would try to sneak little touches, whether it be his boot tapping your heel or his hand brushing against yours when handing you a bottle of ketchup. After spending enough time at the diner, the sun was beginning to set. Before you left, Lyla convinced you to convince Miguel to give her a big tip and told you she hopes to see you again in different circumstances. Miguel holds the door open for you again and the bell dings your departure from the diner. His fingertips gently brush against yours, catching your attention.

“There’s…there’s this other place I wanna show you.” He bites his lip, peeling off the skin. His index finger loosely wraps around your pinky. “Sure…” You say hesitantly. He notices your hesitance. “It’s nearby. Just for a little bit and I’ll take you home.” The wind breezes through, giving you a glimpse of the cool air that will befall once nighttime arrives. You shiver and tuck into yourself to hide from the wind. Miguel takes off his jacket and slips it around you. Feeling the heavy material on your shoulders, you look up at him and feel the warmth go around your torso. Miguel’s eyes are focused on making sure it’s snug as it can be. It’s so large that it ends around your midthigh. He takes your little purse and pops the collar of his jacket up. “Put your arms through the sleeves so it doesn’t fall.” You blink and do as he says with a flustered expression. While shuffling your arms through the holes, you try not to glance over at him. His t-shirt was cut at the sleeves that showed off his toned arms. Despite the cold approaching, he seemed to be relaxed as he watched you, making sure you stayed warm. “Good?” He asked. Your fingers barely poked out, his jacket covering most of your outfit. And it was warm. It smelled like him.

With a satisfied smile, he slyly takes your hand in his and leads you away. You try not to focus too hard on the way his hand engulfs yours. After following Miguel in twists and turns, you eventually walk up a hill and at the very top stood a single bench with a view of the entirety of Nueva York. Your eyes widened and you let go of his hand to approach near the ledge, placing your hands on the railing. The lights of the city illuminated the night sky and acted as stars. You saw them twinkle along with hover cars that zoomed past you. “This is…” “Where I planned to take you another day. But Lyla pissed me off and I wanted to prove that I could take you somewhere nice.” He comes behind you and slings an arm around your waist. You look up at him with an amused smile. “Did you really take that to heart?” Miguel pouts his lips, his eyes looking off to the side. “I couldn’t let her make me look stupid in front of you.” You laugh, using the sleeves of his jacket to cover your smile. Miguel sees and he has a faint smile of his own on his face. He leads you back to the bench where you two sit in quiet comfortable silence after an afternoon of learning about one another. As you look over at the city with him, you couldn’t help but notice the nagging feeling in your chest. This was a date. A date that only happened because you changed yourself. A date with the person who laughed at you.

“Hey, Miguel?” You speak up quietly. He hums and looks over at you. “I…I don’t want you to be nice to me just because I got a little…prettier.” Miguel looks down at you with a frown. He stuffs his hands in his pockets while he looks back at the skyline. He says your name softly to grab your attention. “I’m not being nice just because you’re pretty.” You scrunch your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah, I’m sure all those times you laughed at me was just you being a charmer.” “Laugh at you?” He raises his eyebrows and you look away. “Nena, I wasn’t laughing at you.” “Don’t lie to me, Miguel. I’m used to it. No use in sparing my feelings.” You sigh. “But I wasn’t,” He insists. He wants to reach for your hand, to touch you but he stops himself. “Really, I was…admiring you.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re really being a jerk. There was nothing to admire when I looked…stupid and ugly.” “You did not.” He turned you to face him by turning your chin softly. “So you’re saying the way I looked before wasn’t stupid?” You glare at him but Miguel can’t find it in him to take it badly. “You were cute. The way you dressed and looked, it was awkward–sure–but it was adorable.” He chuckles but your frown deepens, feeling the tears bubble up in your eyes as you turn away from him. Miguel calls your name again. “I’m the last person to judge anyone for how they dress. Look at me.” Miguel flicks his multiple ear piercings, pulls on his snake bites, stretches his tattered and ruined t-shirt and slams his dirty platform boots to the ground. “A freak. You were just a cuter version.” “Then why did you talk to me now?” You murmur.

“Because you suddenly changed. I wanted to know what was up.” “And…the sudden date?” “Your transformation gave me the courage to speak to you. It was my chance–an excuse to talk to you.” Miguel says softly. “Though you did reject me twelve times. I was starting to lose hope.” “It was not twelve times.” “It felt like twelve times.” “...You have to admit that I’m…much more appealing now than I was before.” Miguel sighs. “Nena, the only thing different about you is clear skin and some clothes. Everything else is still you. You were pretty underneath, you just enhanced it. At your core, you’re still you. Bright and colorful.” He bumps your shoulder. You smile shyly and look in your lap. “MJ said something similar.” “MJ?” “My roommate. She helped me with, y’know, everything.” It was still hard to believe. Over two decades of being told otherwise was not going to go away by a single conversation but it still warmed your heart to hear something positive about you for once. You don’t say anything else and Miguel takes his chance to wrap his arm around you, bringing you to his chest. With flushed cheeks, you look out into the open where the skyline is feeling at peace and just a little pretty.

You two had arrived at your dorm and you faced Miguel shyly. Your eyes looked at the ground as you felt your cheeks heat up. “This is my place.” You state and Miguel chuckles, the sound of it sending your heart pumping. “I see that.” He says, taking a step toward you which makes you take a step back. “I had fun.” You whisper softly, your eyes landing on his chest. You see Miguel’s hand lift up to your chin and make you look into his eyes. Your cheeks burn since he keeps his hand on your chin to make sure you wouldn’t look away. “Me too.” He murmured, his red eyes looking like they turned a darker shade when he glanced at your lips. He takes another step towards you and you take another step back. You feel your head hit the door and realize you’re now trapped between it and him.

You hold your breath and can only feel the pounding of your heart in your chest and Miguel’s calloused fingers holding you still. Miguel then uses his other hand to hold your hip, his thumb trying to slide under your tank top. Your hands raise up to hold onto his biceps, shivering when your skin meets his. He was warm. “I…kind of don’t want this to end.” You admit softly. Miguel’s grin grows wider, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek which makes you weak in the knees. “Then it doesn’t have to, muñequita.” His hand leaves your chin to cup your cheek. He glances up above your head. “Your roommate home?” He asks. Your eyes never leave his face, your pupils dilating and a weird feeling starting to brew in your stomach. “No,” You squeak out and he looks back down at you. “She’s–She’s, um, out with her boyfriend.” Miguel hums, another glance to your lips. “Then…will you invite me inside?” He asks, leaning down so his lips just barely graze yours. Not quite a kiss yet. Your breath hitches and you nod a few times before speaking. “Mhm, okay.” You reach your hand behind you to grab the doorknob and twist it open. You stumble backwards but Miguel quickly wraps his arm that was on your hip around your waist. He then makes you walk backwards while he could shut the door behind him. You had your arms around his neck and looked up with wide eyes and a fast paced heartbeat. Miguel huffs out a chuckle. “You okay?” “Mhm!” You squeak. He squints down at you in playful suspicion but brushes it off. He bends down to where his lips brush yours again and finally dips low enough to kiss you. Your first shared kiss. You stumble with how to kiss, especially when the other person has piercings, but with someone like Miguel, you quickly learn and get the hang of it. Soft kissing noises sound between the small space of you two and he gradually moves from your lips to your cheek and down your neck. His arms around your waist tug you closer, bending you back and he moves you further back to where your calves hit the mattress of your bed. One hand rises up to pull his leather jacket off your shoulder, gently nibbling across your skin before reverting back to your throat. With his lips on your neck, Miguel could feel your pulse going wild, heartbeat going crazy each second. He decides to check in. “You okay?” he murmurs with a smile, his lips finding yours again for quick kisses. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve just–” kiss “Just–” kiss “Y’know, never–” kiss, kiss “Done this before.” He pauses, stiffening before he pulls back. “Wait. Are you saying this would be your first time…having sex?” Your heart sinks. That was bad wasn’t it? “No, it’s not bad.” Miguel shakes his head. You didn’t realize you voiced your concerns. “I’m just surprised, is all. Usually people have done it already.” You look away from him, visibly uncomfortable that he’s lowkey making fun of you. Miguel realizes the damage and quickly tries to fix it. “But there’s nothing wrong with it, nena! I didn’t mean–” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. He looks around your dorm room. Your side is filled with cute things like plushies and fluffy blankets–a strawberry duvet all in the same hue of pastels.

“Look. We don’t have to do anything. I don’t…want to make it seem like I’m only here for that.” He shrugs his leather jacket back on your shoulder. “Because I do like you, nena. I’m willing to wait or if you never want it then it’s whatever. I just would really like a second date at least. Maybe at a nicer place like what Lyla said. Maybe I could clean myself up.” He gives you a weary smile. You stare at his hands that hold onto the zipper part of his leather jacket. For a while, you don’t say anything. “What if I don’t want to wait.” You mumble. You look up with some determination on your face. “I…I want to. With you.” Miguel takes his hands off you. “Wh–Are…are you sure?” You slip his jacket off you and let it fall to the side, stripping off the first piece of clothing from yourself. Your mouth is tight, heart hammering in your chest and cheeks feeling that familiar prick of heat up your neck but you’re sure of yourself. You want this. Miguel rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand before him. “Alright.” He breathes out, undeniably attracted to you at this moment. “But this will all be at your pace, okay? I’ll make you feel good.” He purrs resting his hands at your hips and your facade crumbles slowly and you get shy again. He sits you down on your bed and he kneels before you, his hands on your thighs. He takes your right foot in his hands and carefully unbuckles the ankle strap of your pumps and slides it off. You cover your mouth, heart pounding at the intimate yet innocent act of him taking off your heels. He does the same with your other heel and sets it to the side.

Miguel then looks up at you from his lashes, his confident ones meeting your bashful ones. Taking your right leg again, he slips your thigh high stocking off you and does the same for your other leg. He places his hands on your knees and slowly spreads your legs apart to give you time to stop him. You don’t. “Come closer, mami.” He murmurs, sliding his hands up to grip the flesh of your thighs. You let out a weak mewl and scoot closer to the edge of your bed. Miguel bunches your skirt up, groaning and feeling his cock twitch in his pants when his eyes land on your pastel pink panties, a sweet little bow in the middle like you were a present for him. “Tan bella,” He murmurs, unable to hide the utter desire he has for you. You cover your face in embarrassment as he spreads your legs wider. His lips graze over your thighs, pressing kisses as he makes his way up. You feel your heart skip a beat everytime you feel his warm breath. Your hands clutch your strawberry sheets and he notices.

“You can hold onto me, mami.” He purrs and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“Wha…how do I..?” You feel stupid, your hands raising up and unsure of where exactly to put them. Miguel takes your hands and places him in his hair. His fingers curl around yours so you could grip onto his strands.

Feeling your face burn, the sight of you holding onto him while his eyes bore into yours. You instinctively clench your fists, his hair being tugged on in the process which makes him groan and close in his eyes. He likes a bit of pain, it seems

Miguel's hands return to your thighs, wrapping his arms underneath to tug you closer to his awaiting mouth and to keep your legs apart. “Hips up, mama.” He purrs and you do as he says, making him slip your panties off.

He discards them off to the side and delves between your thighs. His nose nudges your nub and you gasp, pursing your lips and gripping tighter on his hair.

“Miguel!” You whimper and he hums in response. You feel the metal ball of his tongue piercing curl inside you–it was strangely pleasurable. You didn’t expect it to feel so good. You rest on one hand behind you, the other still planted in his hair as you bucked forward on his tongue. Miguel the munch that he is, grins against your folds and licks a long stripe up before spitting and devouring your sweet nectar again. You felt the sudden slimy wetness hit your nerves and you yelped in surprise. Just as quick, you fall into submission when his skilled tongue swirled in little number eights. Your eyes were closed shut, your hand pulling Miguel closer to which he obliged. He then surprises you by sticking one of his thick fingers inside you. “Oh my…god.” You moan, your body growing hot and sweaty underneath all your clothing. “Miguel…” Miguel’s mouth moves in rhythm, his lips kissing your pussy as he drinks whatever your sweet cunt offers him. He could stay like this forever, cleaning your mess up and licking you for all eternity. His rings nudge your folds, the metal a stark contrast from his rough fingers. He pumps a second finger inside and it’s a bit of a stretch that feels good enough for you to thrust harder. “Mmm, yes…oh, I’m so close…” You mumble to yourself, chest heaving as you come closer and closer to climax. Unexpectedly, Miguel pulls away from between your legs. The pleasure being ripped from you and you struggle to lift your head as he pulls off you. The look in his eyes is different. More lustful, more hungry.

“If you’re gonna cum, I want you cumming around my cock.” He groans and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Miguel stands up and gets into bed with you, shoving his platform shoes and pants off. While he gets on top, you rest back into your bed and your eyes become big and wide–darting between his face and between his legs. “Is it–will it hurt?” You bring your hands to your chest, clutching the fabric of your tank top. Miguel lifts your chin up to him. His eyes are kind and soft. “It’s not supposed to. I’ll make sure it won’t.” He grabs the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your legs, throwing it with the other forgotten clothes. His hands make his way up your body, helping you remove the sheer cardigan and sliding your tank top up and over your head. Miguel chuckles at the heart patterned bra you wore. He leans over to kiss your neck and you sigh. The feeling of his lips sucking and tongue licking you was surprisingly pleasurable. Instinctively, your reach around his shoulders to hold onto him, your back arching to be chest to chest with him. Miguel’s hands go under your back, holding you up while he quickly unclasps the bra. Feeling the loss of your support, you whine but Miguel kisses you before you become louder. He places you back down on your back and finally removes the last piece of clothing. Miguel admires you from above, his hands at your waist, rubbing up and down your sides as he feels your curves. “Perfecta. Eres mucha mujer.” He whispers while trailing his lips along your collarbone. You whimper, feeling your cheeks burn and grow hot to the touch. His breath ghosts over your breasts and he stares up at you maintaining eye contact. Miguel notices something in your hair; your white ribbon, still tied in your messy hair. His heart swells and smiles, reaching up to brush your hair away.

He kisses down the valley of your breasts and around your nipple. He glances up at you every so often to make sure you’re not feeling any sort of discomfort. He can feel your heart pounding underneath his palm. Miguel wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks softly. You gasp and hold your breath for a moment while his cold tongue piercing swirled around your nipple, his spider bites and nose piercing pressed against the softness of your tits. You stare up at the ceiling as the warmth in your body flooded down to your core. “Oh! M..Miguel…” You whined, your hands curling in his hair where you felt most comfortable. Miguel flicks his finger around your other nipple, pulling and bullying it until it becomes erect and perky. Even then, he twists it and gropes your tit in time with his sucking and biting. Your hips buck up, feeling your pussy throbbing uncomfortably. When you hit his bulge, Miguel moaned and grinded himself to your soaked pussy in soft circles. Your juices left a stain on his boxers in your desperate attempts at relief. He lets go of your tits–leaving a small bite mark– and continues to kiss down your body. “Gracias a Dios por mandarme esta belleza.” He murmurs, digging his hands into the plush of your hips when he raises your thighs up. Suddenly, he stops and lets go of you. “Shit, shit, fuck–hold on.” He mumbles and gets off you. You feel cold and watch as he gets off the bed and picks up his pants from the floor and searches through his pockets. “Did I…do something?” You ask, worried you might’ve done something that made Miguel regret touching you. He shakes his head. “No, no–just–ah, there it is…” He chuckles to himself after finding his wallet and pulling out a small square packet. He pushes his fringe back with one hand as he gets back into bed. Miguel shuffles down his boxers after putting the packet between his teeth. “I’ll get you pregnant some other time.” “What?” “What?” You close your mouth and hear ringing in your ears. You were sure that steam would be coming out of your head at this point–your mind felt like mush with how easily flustered he made you. Miguel looks down at you and huffs a small laugh, letting you know he was joking. Maybe. Hopefully.

His cock springs free once his boxers are off and he groans when it slaps his stomach, leaving a bead of his precum on his tip. Your eyes shamelessly stare at him. You were by no means an expert when it came to sex but you grew both worried and aroused at how massive he was. “There is…no way it’s gonna fit.” Miguel rips the plastic with his teeth and rolls the condom on his dick to the base. For a moment, you’re disappointed that he added protection. Just for a moment, though. He breathes out and gives soft strokes to his shaft while looking at you from beneath him. He feels his cock pulse and throb, growing harder by the second just by the sight of your perfectly sculpted naked body. He thought you were divine. Placing his hands on either side of your head, he leans down to kiss you as if trying to ease your worries. “It’ll fit, I promise. It’ll feel so good, too.” He whispers, his lips brushing against yours. “I’ll go slow.” He takes one hand to lift your thigh up just enough to give him space to rub his cock between your wet folds. “Miguel…!” You gasp while you feel just how hard he was. He shushes you. “I know, nena. Look what you do to me. Feel what you did to me.” He buries himself in your neck, nipping at your skin and you tilt your head back. More of your arousal soaks his cock, creating wet sounds while you grind on each other and Miguel shudders. He bites into your shoulder and fights against his instinct to shove his cock inside and fuck you into your own mattress. Miguel kisses the spot he bit, his breathing labored and heavy. “Tell me if it hurts, mama, okay?” You nod, your eyes screwed shut. “Uh-huh…” Slowly, Miguel looks down and makes sure his tip splits your folds apart as he enters inside you. Your breath hitches and you tighten your arms around his neck. “Miguel!” You whine while he penetrates you. He kisses your temple and stops when only his tip is inside you.

“You’re doing great, nena. No te preocupes, lo estás haciendo bien.” He reassures you with a shaky voice. It’s clear he’s holding back. You whimper apologies and Miguel kisses across your cheeks to try and return your focus on him instead of the new stretch you’re feeling. He praises you in a mix of Spanish and English–ones you can barely hear. He moves his hand down between your legs and gently rubs your clit with your thumb in hopes of loosening you up. With the added stimulation, you moan and hide in his neck with your eyes shut. You weakly thrust up, feeling a bit of relief and allowing Miguel to push further in. “Good, good,” He purrs. “Just like that, mama. Just let me in.” He groans and hisses when you clench around him. Miguel’s thumb switches between a fast and slow pace, sliding in his cock easily until you cry out and dig your nails into his skin, leaving small crescent shapes. “Stop, stop–” You whimper. “I’ll pull out–It’s okay–” “No!” You keep him close to you. “No, I just–I need a minute.” You sniffle, your body slowly adjusting around his girth. Miguel nods and pulls back enough to meet your eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you need. At your pace, remember?” He rests his forehead against yours. You open your eyes to see his cheeks flushed, a bit of sweat running down his temple and he shakes with every breath. Despite his current state of desire, he’s putting you first–he’s putting your comfort first. “Thank you.” You whine softly. Miguel huffs, leaning down to kiss the corner of your eyes. “Don’t thank me for that, nena. Never.” Miguel continues to pamper you with kisses, murmuring about how beautiful you are, how well you’re taking him, how he can’t get enough of you. He nuzzles into your neck, rolling lazily over your clit and does gentle thrusts of whatever you were able to handle. After a few moments, you grab his attention by running your hands through his hair, fingernails scratching over his shaved parts. “Okay…more, please.” He lifts himself up and holds your hips with both his hands. His thumbs caress your hip bones as he pushes himself deeper. You moan and tilt your head back, biting your lip as the combination of pain and pleasure hits your stomach and through every nerve in your body. It felt like forever until he reached the hilt, the light smack of his balls hitting your pussy. Miguel smiles. “Good girl,” he licks his lips. “Mirame.” Your head tilts back down to see both of you finally connected. “Holy shit…” You whisper, the sight making you clench. Miguel moans and grips your hips tighter, his head falling forward as he takes a deep breath. “Fuck, don’t tighten around me like that.” “Sorry!” You squeak and he chuckles. He raises his head back up, hair falling in front of his face and a lazy smile on his face that shows his fangs–his piercings glinting in the dim moonlight. “Don’t be. It’s just, you feel so fucking good–you’ll make me cum.”

You cover your face and resist the urge to scream. The heat emanating from your face made you sweaty. Miguel takes your wrists and pins them to the side of your head. He cocks a pierced eyebrow up with a smirk. It softens when he sees just how flushed your expression is. “‘m gonna move, okay?” You gulp and give him the green light. Miguel looks down and slowly pulls out, watching your slick drench his condom covered cock. “Jesus…” He groans under his breath. He looks back up to see if there’s any sign of discomfort on your end but he’s met with your eyes glued between your legs as well. Your eyebrows are scrunched up in pleasure, mouth agape with shallow breaths while you watch him slowly ease out of you. Miguel’s eyes darken with lust and he pushes back in once his tip was kissing your heat. He watches as you roll your head back, your eyes rolling behind your skull when you felt his cock filling you up again. “Oh my God…” You moan. “Miguel…” Miguel’s heart jumps and his hands tighten around your wrists. Still, he’s careful. For a few minutes, Miguel continues his slow thrusting. He pulls out sweet moans and whimpers from you, getting you used to his massive size and stretching your cunt out to the shape of him. His tip nudges against your cervix and you jump which makes him grin. After those few minutes, you began writhing underneath him. The pain had subsided and now this soft stroking was sweet but it wasn’t doing anything for you anymore. Your hands clenched and unclenched into fists.

“Miguel, Mig–more,” You begged. “Faster.” “You sure?” He slows to a stop and you furrow your eyebrows in annoyance which he doesn’t notice. He’s about to ask again after your lack of response when you lock your ankles around his waist, shoving him back inside you. You and Miguel moan in unison, Miguel nearly falling on top of you if he didn’t catch himself by resting on his elbows by your head. His breath fanned your face and he looked down into your eyes with a heavy blush. “More.” You moan and Miguel quickly goes to work. He leans on one elbow and places his other hand down to your hip to start picking up his pace. Miguel attaches his lips to your chest, biting the plump flesh of your tits before taking your nipple in his mouth once again. Your hands go around his back, your nails raking down his spine that leave red streaks. He pushes himself further against you, folding you in half while he increases his speed, abusing your pussy by slamming his cock in and out of you. Your squealing and moaning becomes music to Miguel’s ears. He groans and licks his tongue around your nipple, lapping it back in his mouth to suck on it. His nails dig into your waist while the sound of skin slapping signaling just how desperate he is to fill you with his cock. “Atta girl,” He moans after moving up to your neck with wet open mouthed kisses. “Knew you could take all of me. Knew you would sound so pretty crying all over my cock.” He smirks, looking up to see your eyes rolled back, tears brimming your eyes in ecstasy instead of pain this time. Your pussy spasms around him as you whimper. 

“Mig–Mig–” You babble mindlessly. The only thing on your mind is Miguel, Miguel and Miguel. “So–so good…” You slur, vision going hazy while the lust clouded your mind. Miguel’s ego inflates, his dick twitching inside you. Even with a condom he could still feel your pussy contract around him, your warm walls sucking him in deeper. Your hips wiggle and buck weakly to match his thrusts but ultimately Miguel does all the work, sending your mind spinning while he practically fucks all your thoughts, fears, and insecurities from your brain—turning you into a dumb cock-drunk mess. Through the haze, you can hear your juices sloppily smacking between you and Miguel–an erotic sound of wet plaps, his balls becoming slick and sticky with your arousal. “God, you feel so good,” He moans, hips stuttering. “It’s like your cunt is just begging for my cum. You want it? Huh? This tight little pussy gonna milk me dry?” He quickened his pace, humping against you in fast short thrusts. You scratch his back, multiple lines of red marking his skin while your toes curl. “Yes, please, please, please–I wanna,” You babble through gasps. “It’s so good–I wanna cum–Don’t stop…!” Your voice becomes high pitched, your hips lifting to grind yourself on him. The both of you fucking one another exactly like horny college kids. Miguel growls, nipping at your neck to add more hickeys to your body. “Never. Holy shit–you’re so fucking sexy,” He cuts himself off with a groan, his sweaty forehead falling to your shoulder while he humps you. “Never letting you go. This pussy is mine.” His thumb finds your clit again, his fingers slowly being drenched with your messy juices that had spread all around your labia, smearing around your pussy with the help of Miguel’s unstable thrusting. His cold rings bumped against your hot skin, the difference in temperature becoming another factor in your raw lust.  Your screams of pleasure bounced off the walls. “C’mon pretty girl. Cum for me. I know you’re close.” He pants in your ear.

“Mig–gy!” You choke out, eyes squinted in ecstasy as Miguel helps you reach your climax. It wasn’t anything you’ve experienced before. White hot numbing pleasure waving through your body as you spasmed. Your orgasm shook your entire body and you clutched onto him tightly, your legs keeping him near, nails finding purchase in his back and arching your breasts up to his chest, nipples sensitive to the touch. Miguel followed right after: rubbing your clit faster and his balls ached with a tightness before releasing his seed into the condom, his cock twitching as it spurts out his cum. He moans loudly, his body shivering and shaking along with you but he still helps you come down from the high, pumping weakly as he empties himself. Your body falls limp, head lolled back while Miguel breaths heavily. He pulls out as gently as you can but your virgin cunt wasn’t used to such stimulation, each inch back caressed your sensitive nerves up until he finally left with a pop. Miguel’s hands shook as he took off the condom, body now covered in cold sweat now that the heat of the momentum was gone. He stumbled off your bed and tied the condom shut then dumped it in the small bin in your dorm room. He slipped back in your bed beside you, smiling to himself when you took deep breaths with your eyes closed. “Hey, you alright?” He asks with a soft wheeze. “Huh?” You barely heard him over the heartbeat pounding in your head. The blood flow goes through your body normally once again. “Hm? Oh. Mhm. Yeah.” Miguel chuckles, resting on one elbow with his cheek in his palm and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. “Yeah? You were amazing.”

“Really?” You try to look up at him through the exhaustion in your eyes. Who knew sex could take all your energy? Miguel grabs your folded fuzzy blanket and unravels it to drape it on top of you two. “Really. I’m honored to be your first.” You blush at the reminder that you hadn’t had sex before and the reminder that you were no longer a virgin. You stare at his face while his hands caress your cheeks, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck right under your jawline. “Do you really like me?” You find yourself asking him. Miguel’s hand stops moving and he looks surprised. “Yeah,” He confirms gently. “I wouldn’t fuck you if I didn’t. I don’t have sex with just anyone.” He pulls your cheek. You frown and pout at him. “I'm serious!” Miguel chuckles. “I know, I know.” He tilts your chin up with his index finger and leans down to kiss you sweetly for a quick peck. He knows what’s really on your mind. “My pretty girl.” He hums as he stares down at you to admire the afterglow of your orgasm. “All mine. My pretty girl.” He dunks his head down to your chest, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in his embrace and snuggles you.

Your heart flutters. Pretty. It hits you then that Miguel really does think you’re pretty. You feel his ear piercings against your chest and the rings on his fingers running up and down the curve of your spine. His fingers find your white ribbon, crumpled under you and he twirls it around his ring finger. You struggle to hold back your smile as you hug him back, nuzzling your nose in his hair and falling asleep with the comfort of knowing someone genuinely finds you beautiful, inside and out.

a/n: im sorry i wasnt normal i just love a good trope and punk miguel i cant help but make him cute

[lucysarah-c]

Hiiiii, I like your writing!

What do you think is Levi's go-to comfortable wear

Sorry, I had this ask sitting in my inbox, and I’m skipping the line to reply to this one because I just HAD TO.

Thank you so much for this ask.

SWEATPANTS AND A BAGGY SHIRT. Ugh, sorry, I needed to get that off my chest. I'll explain in depth now.

I think Levi is in his uniform like 24/7, so in the rare moments he actually has time to take that damn thing off and rest… he doesn’t just want to be comfy—HE WANTS TO BE BAGGY. Those uniforms are TIGHT, and if you lived through the “skinny jeans era,” you know the first thing you wanted to do when you got home was take them off and throw on something loose.

But here’s the thing—Levi is THICK for a short guy. So the pants that are loose on him are also long, and he hates when they drag on the floor or need to be folded. That’s why he’d go for joggers, grey ones, with elastic cuffs. And once again, a baggy shirt. He doesn’t want ANYTHING clinging to his frame. If he’s in the mood, or if the weather calls for it—not even a shirt. Just sweatpants on, happy trail on display.

He wears slippers. I fully believe Levi is the kind of person who would tell you that walking around barefoot will give you a cold. And no matter how many times Hange explains that’s not how it works, he will insist.

Now, hehe, here’s the part I really wanted to talk about… This man… when he’s in his damn chambers or his house on a free day or after hours—sweatpants on, baggy shirt, maybe a cardigan if it’s chilly. And—listen to me—no underwear. No boxers. No briefs. No. Nothing tight, remember? He’s letting it hang loose, no issues with it.

“You gotta let them breathe from time to time,” he’d say. And yeah, the bulge with no boxers on? Very noticeable. Sometimes, he’s scratching his belly or stretching, and the sweatpants are hanging low on his hips… and you can see. You can tell. It’s just a matter of hooking one finger under the waistband and pulling down for the whole reveal. He doesn’t care. Maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing, because what’s a free day—what’s the joy of not wearing the uniform—without a good little lazy fuck?

Anyway… I adored this ask. I haven't had this much fun in a while.

Have a lovely day!

[thepastdied]

Amped Up (p.1)

18+. MDNI. Smut.

perv!virgin!eddie munson × virgin!fem!reader

next part OUT NOW

Eddie loved to tease himself while you studied. He would watch as you sat on his bed, books littered across the mattress as you flipped between them. You were his best friend, and it was so wrong, but he loved it. It was easy to do this when you were so focused on your work. You were so oblivious.

His legs would be spread wide, his guitar on his lap to hide his aching hard dick that pressed against his skinny jeans. His mouth opened as he let out a silent breath, watching the way your tongue darted out and slowly licked the spit that collected on your bottom lip as you chewed on your pencil.

"Fuuuck" He hissed.

You looked over, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry. Just uh.. dropped my pick." He held up the worn-out guitar pick before giving you a cute, dopey smile, his cheeks making his eyes scrunch up.

His smile quickly disappeared when you went back to your book, biting his lip harshly as his hips slowly grinded up into his guitar. He watched the pencil press against your plush lips and wished it was his cock. 

You raised your arms to stretch and twist around, groaning at the pain your back was in. He bit back a lewd comment as you moved to lay on your stomach, your ass on display to him. God, he fucking loved those little pink pajama shorts. They hugged your ass perfectly, usually getting swallowed up cause of how short they were. He pushed his guitar down and swallowed hard. His heart rate picked up when you started to kick your feet up in the air, the movements causing your shorts to ride up on your ass even more. 

"Oh God, keep going baby." His eyes were half hooded as he fell more into bliss. The chair he was in began to squeak lightly as he bucked up into his guitar faster. It went unheard as the music he put on (purposely) drowned out his panting. His eyes trailed from your ass to your thighs. He wished he could have those wrapped around his head as you pulled his hair and came in his mouth. God, he was close. His thigh muscles flexed as he held back a moan, his eyes moving back to your ass and noticing your panties now peeking through. Of course you would wear lace. 

"Ugh! I fucking hate this!" He jumped a little when you slammed your book down, your ass jiggling at the movement and making his hips stutter. You shook your head in annoyance before moving to another book, licking your finger so you can open to a certain page.

"Holy fucking s-shit." He began to breathe faster, though remaining quiet. His hand quickly darted to his stereo, turning up the music a little louder.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his guitar hard, pushing it against his cock. His leg kicked out from its previous bent position, muscles flexing as it shook, his body jerking. His cum exploded into his boxers, a guttural moan vibrating in his throat as he scrunched his eyes shut tightly, entire body jolting at the intensity. His hand accidently hit the strings, causing a loud shrill to echo throughout the bedroom. He choked on a breath before opening his eyes and looking over at you. You ignored him, eyes darting across the page of your book, figuring he was probably mad about fucking up a chord.

Eddie wiped a shaky hand across his forehead, moving his sweaty hair back that stuck to it. He looked down at his guitar, slightly moving it back to see a sticky wet patch of cum on his jeans, a string of wetness connecting to the surface of the guitar. 

He quickly untucked his baggy shirt to cover the spot on his jeans. 

"Hey sweetheart, wanna take a break? Want to see you play with my guitar." His tongue rubbed against the inside of his cheek to hide his smile. 

You tilted your head at him puzzled. "Uh, sure." 

He grabbed his guitar by the neck and held it up toward you. "Take it." 

You grabbed it and pulled the strap over your head. He licked his lips, feeling his dick start to get hard again knowing that his cum was now on your shirt. 

next part->

I had to rewrite this because tumblr deleted my first post of it. Fuck you, tumblr. It's probably not as good as the original, but I tried to write it out as quick as possible before I forgot. Enjoy

[soleilapproves]

Hi!! Can you do a fic where toji and yn are play fighting/wrestling and toji accendtly tickles us and finds out that we're ticklish?

Then he proceeds to do it alot now. Like when we're cuddling he'll pin our hands an tickle us. If we're reaching something on a shelf he sneak up behind us and tickle our sides/belly. Like toji is just a big tickle monster

You got it, bestie 🫡

Masterlist

You regretted many things in life- wearing skinny jeans on a hot day, getting a bad haircut that took you months to grow out, and not investing in the stock market earlier.

But the one thing you regretted most was letting your boyfriend find out just how ticklish you were.

It all happened on a regular Saturday afternoon. You were testing Toji’s patience so he decided to battle it out with a wrestling match.

So there were you were, rolling around in your bed with your boyfriend. Every time you managed to get on top of him, he’d tackle you back down and try to hold you down with the weight of his body. You’d slip to the side, get on his back and the cycle would continue.

The fight was in your favor until he had managed to trap you between his legs with his left arm wrapped around both of yours. You tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was difficult because he had you right underneath him. His right hand then caught on to your waist to prevent you from moving any further.

“Okay, you win. I lose. I’ll do the dishes after dinner.” You breathed out. Toji laughed and you could feel his chest rumbling because of it. “Told you this fight was pointless. You can try all you want, babe, but you can never win.” He said as he strokes your sides.

You yelped as a response and wiggled even more. “Baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah, Toji, it’s just…”

“Just what? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m just very ticklish.” You murmured.

It took Toji a minute to realize that even the slightest touch on your sides had you jumping. You were lucky enough to not see the expression on his face because you would’ve been terrified.

“Alright, babe.” He said slyly after letting you go. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

You were a bit suspicious as to why he was suddenly so compliant but you brushed it off. You were finally out of his hold and could breath easily again.

The following days were pure torture.

Whenever you’d stretch your arms, Toji would poke your waist and have you double over to protect yourself. Sometimes, you'd be walking with his arm around you and he'd randomly poke you so you'd end up pushing yourself into his side. It got to the point where you’d have to look around to make sure he was far away enough from you.

The worst was when he’d be massaging your neck. Your guard would be down, you’d be all relaxed and then all of a sudden, his arm would wrap around you to prevent you from escaping and begin tickling your armpits.

It was just another morning. You looked around to ensure Toji wasn’t around before reaching up to the kitchen shelf to grab your mug. Usually, you could tell which mug you were grabbing onto based on the handle. But this time, you were surprised to find out that it wasn't there. It didn't help that you couldn't see into the shelf.

You were sure that you washed your mug the night before. You decided to continue looking for it, hoping that it was just at the back. You put your knees on the counter to reach deeper into the shelf.

Until you felt two hands attack your sides.

You yelped as you fell back into your boyfriend's chest. He secured you by wrapping his arm around your body and situating it right beneath your chest. His other hand began to tickle you.

"You monster!" You cried out, trying to get out of his grip as he carried you to your couch. "You hid my cup, didn't you?" He simply laughed as he threw you down on the couch and straddled you.

"Maybe." He leaned down and lifted your shirt up. You knew what was coming and had accepted defeat. You knew that fighting him was pointless no matter how hard you tried. The man was built like a bear, and your lack of muscles was a serious shortcoming.

Toji noticed your tired face and leaned down. His nose touching yours. "Give up already?" He asked while smirking.

"Yeah, no point fighting someone who always gets what he wants." You tried your best to appeal to his humanity. Maybe he would give up and let you go or even return your cup.

But instead, he muttered a small "good" and tickled your exposed mid-riff. "Toji, stop!" You laughed out, trying to control your spasming muscles. He started laughing along with you. He was enjoying the sight in front of him.

He removed his hands and blew raspberries on your tummy. "Oh my gosh," you cover your face with your hands as you giggle. He soon began kissing your abdomen, poking you on the sides whenever you'd let out a sigh of relief.

"Don't get too comfortable, hon." He mumbled against the waistband of your shorts, his eyes smiling up at you.

"I won't. I live with you, after all." He came up to face you and swapped your positions, with him lying on the couch and you lying on top of him. You were glad he was finally done. "Y'know, I think I've found my new favorite pastime." His arms wrapped around you.

"Toji, darling, please take up something more productive."

"Nah, I find this to be more fulfilling." He said as he kissed the top of your head.

[fox-guardian]

[ID: Three digital drawings of Sam, Alice, and Colin on gray backgrounds. The first image is three drawings of Sam from the neck up. Sam is an Arab man with brown skin and short, curly black hair and a mustache and small goatee. He is wearing small black earrings and a cream turtleneck. The left drawing shows him smiling very wide while sweating anxiously. The middle drawing shows him frowning downwards while sweating anxiously. The right drawing is him looking neutral while saying "I could be cleaning toilets" while looking off to the side.

The next drawing is of Alice and Colin. Alice is a tall lanky white woman with fluffy, shoulder-length, light brown hair with faded pink tips, freckles, and stretch marks on her stomach. She is wearing pink cat eye glasses, pink nail polish, three pairs of silver earrings, snakebites, a berry-colored bra, a fully unbuttoned gray and pink flannel, open black hoodie, gray jeans, and multi-colored bracelets. Colin is a skinny white man with blonde hair that's short at the top and long at the back in a ponytail with a receding hairline, a mustache and patchy facial hair, and body hair. He is wearing rectangular glasses with yellow lenses, a tan t-shirt with a yellow graphic, an unbuttoned pale blue button-down, an open tan hoodie, black watch, brown belt, and blue jeans. Alice is standing raising her hands in the "devil horns" gesture while making a yelling expression. Colin is hunched over, clutching a microphone and yelling into it with a dark expression and scratchy music notes around him.

The last image shows Alice wearing a grey tank top with one strap hanging off, grey jeans with ripped knees, and a brown and red flannel tied around her waist. She is in profile sitting with her hands between her knees, with her head tilted back a bit and winking and sticking her tongue out with a little pink star next to her. end ID]

~~~~

been thinking a lot about Them so have some bits of them <3

feat my headcanon that alice takes colin out for metal karaoke aggretsuko style

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 4

Part 3

Aaaah, Tim had missed undercover work! There was just something thrilling about becoming a whole new person by making a few small tweaks here and there. He had combed his hair in a side-part, carefully applied make-up to make his skin look paler and his eyes bigger and put on a pair of thick rimmed glasses. Worn sneakers, baggy jeans, a loose plaid flannel shirt with a hoodie tied around his waist hid his lean, muscular frame. A slight slouch and his old high-school backpack completed the look. Goodbye Tim Drake-Wayne, Gotham socialite. Hello Adam Taylor, college freshman.

Jason took one look at him and practically fell over laughing.

“Oh my God, you look like a total dork! Would you like some braces to go with that?” he heckled, catching himself against the side of the car.

“I’ll have you know that this is the height of broke college student chic,” Tim sniffed in mock offence, “It’s called ‘blending in’ Jason. Maybe you should try it!” He walked past his snickering brother to get in the passenger’s seat of the beat-up Ford they used for travelling incognito.

“No thanks, I’ll leave the theatre performance to you,” Jason drawled, tossing the keys in one hand before getting behind the wheel. “I’ll just hang back and keep an eye out in case things go tits up.”

“I don’t even know why you insisted on coming along. I’m just going to question a civilian!”

Jason gave him a Look before starting the engine. “A civilian raised by mad scientists. The way our lives work, we’ll find her building Kryptonite powered robots in the janitor’s closet or something.”

“And the fact that she’s a cute red-head has nothing to do with it?” Tim teased.

“Nope!”

“Liar.”

The drive to Metropolis passed in a mix of mutual ribbing, arguing over radio stations and discussion of recent cases. They carefully avoided the elephant in the room - the reason for their current investigation. The sullen anger of their youngest brother, the quiet grief in Bruce’s eyes whenever he thought no one was watching and the mounting tension within the family. Tim doubted that this excursion would be all that fruitful, but he needed to get out and do something for the sake of his own sanity. The last thing he wanted was to watch Bruce emotionally implode over what may or may not be another dead son.

Getting onto the university campus was no problem. Tim had a fake student ID on him just in case, but it looked like he needn’t have bothered. His hacking had revealed that Jasmine Fenton checked into the university library after her last class almost every day, so it was just a matter of biding his time. He sat at one of the carrel desks, idly flipping through the latest issue of Forbes. I wonder if Luthor’s new tech acquisition means he’s up to something? Hm…

“Heads up, target at your 10,” came Jason’s murmur through Tim’s earpiece. Tim turned another page then sat up and stretched, glancing around casually. He instantly recognized the red-head from his earlier research. Tall and light build, long hair held back by a head-band, wearing skinny jeans and a dark grey sweater. She made her way over to the row of desks, carrying a small stack of books and a pencil case. She walked past Tim, only sparing him a glance and eventually settled down at the table farthest from the entrance and away from the other students. Perfect.

Tim got up and returned his magazine to the periodicals section before meandering over to Jasmine’s desk. He put on his best impression of a nervous smile. Showtime.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

She only glanced up from her work briefly then went right back to taking notes. “No, knock yourself out,” she said in a bored tone.

Tim pulled out the chair next to hers and turned it slightly to face her. He sat down and cleared his throat.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I’m Adam. Adam Taylor,” he lied, offering his hand to her. She gave him a tight, polite smile and shook hands with him.

“Jazz Fenton,” Her tone was light, but her body language screamed ‘please go away’. Tim filed the nickname away for later, “Look, it’s really nice to meet you but I have this project I need to work on, so…”

Ah, she probably thinks I’m trying to hit on her, Tim thought.

“Oh, I understand completely! I don’t wanna take up too much of your time, I just… I was just wondering if you could tell me about… you know,” he whispered with affected hesitation, “...ghosts.”

The smile dropped from her face and her gaze sharpened. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry! It’s just… your parents run Fenton Works, right? The ecto-biologists?” Tim rushed out, “I just wanted to hear your opinion on their work…” he trailed off at the look of tightly controlled anger on her face. She turned and scanned the room around them.

“Alright. Where’s the camera?”

Tim was caught completely wrong footed. Was she onto them?

“Camera? What camera?” he hedged. She slammed her notebook shut and glared at him.

“I get it. Lets pretend to interview the girl with the crazy ghost hunter parents and have a good laugh at her on social media later. Very funny, har har,” Jazz stuffed her pen back in its case with sharp movements, “Well I have better things to do than make you TikTok famous, so if you’ll excuse me,” she gathered up her books and stood.

Tim winced. He really needed to salvage this situation and quickly. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“I’m not filming you, honest! I just read some of your parents’ papers and wanted a second opinion on their research! They, ah… they seem pretty biased,” he said apologetically.

Jazz narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Why are you researching ghosts, then?”

The best lies are built on truth.

“Because…” Tim took a deep breath, “I think my brother might be one,” he forced out, then swallowed hard and looked away.

“Oh,” the anger had drained from her voice, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Tim glanced at her as she sat back down. “Thanks,” he croaked and blinked away fake tears. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Adam, what makes you think your brother might have come back as a ghost?” Jazz asked gently.

Tim collected himself for a moment, thinking about how to score the most sympathy points.

“It’s hard to explain. My younger brother… he saw something strange and now my whole family is freaking out. Dad is putting on a brave face but I can tell this is eating him up inside but he refuses to talk about it. I just… I need to know if there’s a scientific explanation to all this. I need to make sense of this whole mess!” he looked up at her through his lashes with his best puppy-dog expression, “Please, can you help me?”

Tim could practically hear her heart melting.

“And the Oscar goes to… Timbird!” Jason teased over the comms.

“Alright. But not here,” Jazz said, standing up again, “This is gonna take some time. And diagrams.”

Oh goodie.

Part 5