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planetaryupscaled · 2 days ago

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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.

#danielle smut #newjeans smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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euthymiya · 2 days ago

Text

content includes: female reader, drunk reader + mentions of alcohol, modern + non curse au sukuna, established relationship, unnamed friends, reader makes one (1) dick sucking joke, reader dips fries into shakes because she’s elite like that, he carries reader

It’s half past midnight when he comes to pick you up. Your face sours as soon as you see him, taking an instinctive step back.

“Nuh uh,” you say, wagging a finger back and forth in his face as he scowls. “It’s girl’s night. No men allowed—we’ve been over this!”

“As if I wanna join your stupid girl’s night,” he scoffs. Sukuna is tired. (Of you). It’s too late at night to be worrying about what ditch you’re going to end yourself up in after lord knows how many drinks, so regrettably, he takes matters into his own hands.

It’s a good thing he does, too, he thinks with a flare of his nostril as he eyes the drunk, mess of a woman that’s supposed to be your ride home. Designated driver my ass, he all but grumbles under his breath.

“Hey—” he looks over to the side with an irritated flick of his eyes as a hand smacks his shoulder. Your friend (in not better condition than you) levels him with a snarky look before she hisses, “You heard her! It’s girl’s night. Go away.”

Sukuna ignores her—because, well, that’s what he always does anyway. She talks far too much to be considered a normal amount, and he doesn’t like the shrill sound of her voice. Instead, he turns to you, gives you a firm, scolding look before he grunts, “We are going home. Now.”

You seem to catch onto the stern tone of his voice because within seconds, you’re slumping against him as you whine, “Fine,” with a pout. “Mean.”

“Yeah?” He snorts, “You know what’s meaner? Nasty men who find girls passed out in the middle of the streets. Now let’s go. We’re going home—all of you.”

A chorus of whines and petty insults makes him want to grab a drink himself—being inebriated seems like the only way your friends are tolerable, but as annoying as they are, he refuses to leave them here wasted.

So he does the noble thing, and sacrifices his ear drums as they play whatever stupid pop song is trending on the radio at full volume down the streets, heads sticking out of the windows and screaming the lyrics out to innocent passerby’s.

Sukuna is just a guy. Not the best, most chivalrous or charitable guy, maybe—but just a guy, all the same. He’s not done anything wrong to deserve this torture. He’s been nothing but a kind (usually) boyfriend that loves you unconditionally (most of the time), supports you wholeheartedly (when it suits him), listens to your problems (if he’s in the mood), and makes you feel special (as long as it doesn’t inconvenience him).

Still, he’s stuck basically being an uber driver—for free, no less—to your ungrateful, bratty, obnoxious friends that aren’t pretty enough to enjoy your company in the first place. They don’t even thank him when they get out as he drops them off one by one to their homes, opting to say goodbye to you as if you’re the one who pays for the gas in his car.

Finally, the last of your friends (who he likes to consider nuisances) leaves, freeing him of anymore radio pop songs and unnaturally loud giggles.

He grumbles as you ask, “Can we get milkshakes?”

“No.”

“Please?” You whine, “I want strawberry.”

“That’s great,” he says sarcastically, “The answer’s still no.”

“Please, please, please, Kuna? I’ll suck your dick on the drive there—”

“Jesus, what’s the matter with you?” He hisses, fighting back flushed cheeks as he glares at you once the car rolls to a stop at a red light.

Usually, he’s the one making such lewd comments and getting under your skin—but lacking in sobriety is seriously forcing the two of you to switch roles. He’s starting to wonder if maybe he should be nicer to you—you deal with a lot. (Not that he’s mean. He considers himself a pretty generous boyfriend).

“I’ll even pay,” you offer.

“You didn’t bring a wallet, so it looks like I’ll have to pay,” he says blandly.

You grin, giving him an innocent smile as you excitedly ask, “So that’s a yes?”

“Are you going to be quiet if I say yes?” He clicks his teeth in thinly-veiled irritation.

You grin, nodding enthusiastically.

Well, he thinks bitterly, so much for no more pit stops.

It’s not long until he’s pulling into the drive-thru of the nearest fast food joint, rolling his window down to order your stupid, late night request.

“We’ll take one strawberry milkshake, please,” he says gruffly.

“Anything else?” Comes the tired reply of whoever is taking his order.

“No—”

“And large fries, please!” You lean over him to shout out the window and make sure the poor worker hears you. Sukuna glares, (gently) pushing you back into your seat as he hisses, “Put your seatbelt on! And you asked for a milkshake, not a damn meal.”

“Fries aren’t a meal,” you huff, “And they’re good dipped in the shake. You can’t have one without the other.”

“No—”

“I’ll scream that I’m being kidnapped,” you warn, “I want my fries.”

“Fucking fine,” he throws his hands up, exasperatedly caving to your request because, yeah, having some drunk, half-conscious woman in his front seat screaming bloody murder about being abducted at two a.m. is not a good look to a stranger that doesn’t know any better. “One strawberry milkshake and large fucking fries and that’s it,” he growls to the other person through the drive-thru speaker.

It’s not the poor employee’s fault, and he knows it, but he’s too tired and sleep-deprived to care about his snarky attitude.

“It’ll be ready at the window,” the man speaks tiredly, completely unphased.

“Yay!” You squeal.

It’s a pretty bothersome task to have to stop the car five minutes after receiving the food just to open the lid of your cup for you so that you can dip your fries into your milkshake easier, but he figures it’s better than a tiring drive home. Or worse, a spill all over his car seats at your own attempt.

He glances over at you wearily as he finally (hopefully) starts to drive home, watching as you dip your french fries into your frozen drink and happily eat away. He crinkles his eyes at the combination.

He’ll never understand people’s unnatural obsession with pairing anything remotely salty and sweet together.

“My friends think you’re weird,” you hum, taking a handful of fries to your mouth as you say between chewing, “They say you’re intense. Like, scary intense. But I told them, that’s just his face.”

Finally, a small smile cracks on his face, breaking through the grumpy, tired exterior. He snorts, shaking his head. “Drunk you has way too much to say.”

“Drunk me is honest,” you retort, clutching your fries to your chest as you huff, “Now I’m not sharing my fries anymore.”

“You weren’t going to anyway,” he rolls his eyes.

Finally, his car pulls into a familiar parking spot, just outside of your shared home as he parks and turns to you. You giggle at him before humming, “How’d you know?”

“Because you never do,” he rolls his eyes.

“That’s because this relationship is 50/50! You buy the food, and I eat it.”

“Yeah?” He snorts, shaking his head—still, there’s something endearing about the way you clutch your fries close to your chest, as if guarding them with your life. He leans over, snatching one easily anyway, smirking in amusement when you gasp and pout at the gesture.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

“Yeah, whatever,” he grunts, fighting back a fond grin before he asks, “Let’s go. We’re going in.”

With that, he comes around to your side of the car, pulling you out and hoisting you up to carry you bridal style as he marches over to the front door. Sighing happily, you admire his face as he walks.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

He raises a brow, mildly shocked. “For?”

“For bringing me home. Same time next week?”

He chuckles, pressing a soft, affectionate kiss to your forehead. “Absolutely not. No more girl’s nights with those shit shows.”

#writing tag #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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almadelsur · 3 days ago

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💋 The Turmoil One Suffers

summary: In the second installment of The Secrets One Keeps, a relaxing day on the pogue proves to be anything but, with your inner struggles getting the better of you and JJ hot on your tail.

jj maybank x reader, rafe cameron x reader

warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, talks of suffocation ig? plz let me know if I've missed anything.

a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering I first wrote this like 3 years ago. Also, for those asking, I won't be doing a taglist for this fic bc I'm lazy and technologically deficient.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

You shouldn’t have been smoking, it made you feel uneasy, paranoid even.

You had found yourself on the pogue in the wake of Pope’s incessant bitching about how you had to make up for ditching them last night. The guilt had made you cave in. As he spoke, all that had flashed through your head was images of Rafe. You on top of Rafe, Rafe with his hands around your neck, the way Rafe’s hair felt between your fingers as you gripped on it when he got messy between your-

“Dude” Sarah’s voice snapped you out of your recurring thoughts.

You turned your head to her as you took a drag of the blunt JJ had rolled, "hmm?"

“I asked if you wanted a beer?”

You checked the time on your phone, 12pm. After enduring 3 hours on this floating nightmare, you decide you're probably deserving of one.

“uh yeah sure.” You took another hit, extending your arm to grab the cold bottle.

You bought the edge of the glass bottle up to your lips and took a swig, letting the liquid wash over your cotton mouth. A swig swiftly turning into a gulp as thirst suddenly became itself known to you. One gulp then turned to two and before you knew it the bottle dried out.

JJ eyed your every move, the feeling that had been bugging him since you got into the Twinkie that morning had now grown into full-blown concern. Your unusual behaviour was deafening with the sounds of alarm bells.

“Thirsty?” He spoke with furrowed brows, prompting Pope to chuckle though no joke had been intended.

Your eyes flickered towards JJ momentarily and instantly you knew what he was thinking. Anger disguised as adrenaline coursed through you.

“Sarah will you pass me another? Mines empty.” Defiance clear in your tone, causing a thick tension to settle over the boat.

“'s a bit it early to start chugging drinks isn’t it?” JJ speaks up again before Sarah has time to respond.

You scoffed as you turned to him once more, maintaining eye contact as you took a long drag from blunt. As you exhaled the smoke, the thick white cloud blurred his features.

“Sarah” you tried again.

You hear a small sigh as she hands you another bottle.

“Thank you” You took another swig at the bottle, hoping the liquid would force down the concoction of guilt and anger that swirled in your mouth.

“So like am I saying words out loud or is it just in my head?” JJ tried, at this point he just wanted a reaction out of you.

“You asked me to come here.” Your tone was snippy, as another burst of smoke entered your system.

“well my mistake clearly.” He was getting pissed off now, and you couldn’t deny the sick satisfaction it gave you. You knew it was unfair, he hadn’t done anything wrong, you just couldn’t help it.

Pope cleared his throat. “This is a whole lotta tension for such a little boat.” He tried to lighten the mood but his joke fell flat.

As you downed your second beer, you took another drag. “It is isn’t it?” You turned to him.

“Maybe you should have some of this JJ, it’ll help you relax.” You threw the blunt in his direction, letting it fall at his feet.

“What the hell crawled up your ass today?” JJ spat at you, picking up the blunt.

The mixture of alcohol and weed infected your system, your breathing became staggered as you suddenly became hyper aware of the layers clinging onto your body.

You don't answer. Instead choosing to stand up and remove your T-shirt. Rafe returned to your mind as you focused on the image of him mimicking your same actions. Your trousers were next to go. You pushed them down whilst picturing Rafe’s hands running down your legs.

Pope eyed Sarah and JJ who’s gaze were trained on you and your movements.

“Whatcha doing there bud?” Sarah asked watching you strip down to your underwear.

“I’m too hot” was all you said, stepping off the edge of the boat and letting yourself plunge into the cool water below you.

As you became completely submerged, you breathed out all of the air in your irritated lungs. Leaving you empty and heavy as you continued to sink. The muffled noises of the water hit against your head yet all you could hear was your thoughts racing.

As the need for air increased, the rush of thought slowed. You liked it. The weightlessness of your body, mixed with the numbing of all of your senses was peacefull. A welcome change from the overdrive your body had been running on for the past year.

You forced yourself to stay down there, pushing your physical boundaries. A split second before completely losing consiousness you emerged again, letting the air penetrate through your system and invade your insides as it worked to reboot your muscles before giving life again to the internal mayhem in your mind again.

You floated with your head above the surface and your back facing the pogues. You couldn’t find yourself to act remotely interested in what they thought about your little show.

JJ in turn felt as though he was slowly loosing his head. He felt dumbfounded because it wasn’t just your behaviour that was different, your entire demeanour and vibe was off and he failed to comprehend what could have happened in the span of 12 hours for you to return to him a complete different person.

Sarah could see the way he looked at you, he was hot on your tail and she panicked trying to divert his calculating eyes from you. “So” she spoke up loud enough so that you could hear and be part of the conversation should you wish to. “Theres a party at my house tonight.”

“Oh really?” JJ answered, evidently uninterested as he continued his stare down with the back of your head.

“Yeah Ward’s out of town with Rose and y'know Rafe, any opportunity he has to get shitfaced he’ll take it.” Relief washed over her as JJ’s eyes finally unglued from you.

At the mention of Rafe your ears perked up.

“Do you guys wanna come?” A devilish grin on her face evident as she spoke.

“A kook party? We wouldn't be welcome.” Pope answered for the three of you, prompting a scoff from Sarah.

“It’s my house too, plus I already threatened Rafe to let me invite you guys. I told him I’d snitch on him otherwise.” She shrugged.

“I’m sure he loved that” JJ added, amused at the thought of antagonising the Cameron boy.

“Well what did he say?” Three pairs of eyes turned to you as you finally spoke up from the water, now facing the boat again.

JJ couldnt help the face that your question caused him to pull. Why did you suddenly care about what Rafe Cameron had to say? Sarah already said they could go so why did it even matter?

“He said whatever as long we stay away from him.” Her answer caused Pope and JJ to roll their eyes. It had been somewhat of a lie though.

Because what Rafe had really said when Sarah had threatened him was, “whatever just stay away from us, and why don't you go ahead and bring that sexy little friend of yours.”

To which Sarah had replied with, “We wouldn’t want to hang out with you and your classist friends anyway. Also, Kiara’s with JJ, and Y/N wouldn’t even touch you with a 10 foot pole so.” Unkowing of the situation between you and Rafe.

Looking back at it now, Rafe’s coy response of “we’ll see” suddenly made much more sense to her as she shuddered slightly in disgust.

“Can’t we take a night off? I mean don’t you guys think we’ve been going a little extra hard recently?” Pope tried to reason as you swam back up towards the boat, forcing yourself on board again.

“I’ll be there.” You interjected as the water ran down your body, soaking the deck of the hms.

“we all will be.” JJ fired back, a confusing swirl of concern and anger towards your attitude fought for dominance within his head.

You ignored him once more and lay back on the sodden deck, letting your persistant introspection rest as the blanket that was intoxication comforted you. You looked up at the clouds and the weighlessness returned. Before you knew it, he sounds of Pope and Sarah chatting drifted away with the soft waves that carried the boat. You lost grip on consciousness as the sun lulled you to sleep.

Around half an hour went by before JJ spoke up. “hey" he double checked you were definitely asleep.

He took your silence as confirmation before turning to the other two. “Y'all saw that right?”

“Saw what?” Sarah played dumb even though he she knew exactly what he was referring to.

“the way she was acting” He whisper shouted, confused as to why no one else seemed remotely worried. “It was like she hated us.” He spoke with the tone of a wounded man.

“Yeah… us.” Pope muttered under his breath.

“I think she’s just tired J, she uh- she had a long night.” Sarah stiffled what had been something between a laugh and a groan.

“Nah guys look- I know her, that wasn’t normal.” JJ didn’t ease up.

“We all know her.” Pope jumped on the defensive.

“c’mon dude it’s not just me, somethings obviously wrong”

At this point Sarah wished for anything to distract him, because as much as JJ wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to academic performance, he most certainly wasn’t dumb. And he definitely knew what he was talking about when it came to you.

“Maybe It’s.. you know..” Pope waggled his eyebrows. “Her time…” he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck “of- of the month?”

“Nice Pope.” Sarah rolled her eyes.

“’s not that. Guys look listen to me somethings definitely wr-“ the ringing of his phone interrupted JJ mid sentence. Saved by the bell. Literally.

JJ grabbed his phone and his frown eased up slightly as he looked at the caller ID.

“Hey baby” his tone made it seem like whatever he had been worrying about softened it’s grip on him at the sound of her voice. “Uh huh, okay give us ten and we’ll be there.” He hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.

“Kie?” Sarah asked, praying he wouldn’t resume his ramble.

“Yeah she’s finished up at the wreck, wants us to go get her.” And with that the subject was dropped.

—————————————————————————

The late afternoon breeze stroked you awake as you suddenly became aware of the voices around you.

Your eyes fluttered open and you stirred where you lay, your body stiff from the 4 hour positioning against the hard wood of the hms. You slowly sat yourself up and threw your T-shirt back on your body before turning back to glance at the now complete group of pogues. Fuck how long had you been out for.

You let your eyes linger on Kiara and JJ a couple of seconds longer than everybody else. He laughed carelessly pulling her tighter against his side. You groaned out quietly and reached for your phone, typing out that damned name.

To Rafe: Having a party and you didn’t invite me? I’m almost offended.

Almost instantly a reply came through.

Miss me already?

You rolled your eyes as he sent you another.

Figured Sarah would open her big mouth, better see you tonight ;)

“Morning Camper.” John B spoke up. You turned around to face him, every single one of them with their attention on you.

“Hey can you take me home?” You directed at no one in particular.

“You don’t wanna stay and hang out?” Kie asked, she wanted to reach you, connect with you.

“I just want to go home” You were irritated and your head hurt, you were certainly in no mood for any of this.

John B was next to try “C’mon man we haven’t all hung out like this in ag-“

“Fuck just take me home” You lashed out. “please” You added in an attempt to soften the blow.

Silence fell over the pogues as John B lifted himself up and steered the boat towards the direction of your house.

As you hopped down you muttered a joyless goodbye to everyone.

“Wait! I’ll walk you in.” JJ peeled himself away from Kiara and followed behind you, slightly speeding as you hadn’t bothered to stop and wait.

He walked beside you, waiting until you were both out of hearing distance from the others.

“why are you angry?” He spoke up.

“I’m not angry.” You tried to walk faster but a calloused hand stopped you.

“Stop. Just stop.” You heard the desperation in his voice as he turned you around to face him. “can you just talk to me? Look whatever I did to piss you off I’m sorry. You just- you were fine yesterday and now all of a sudden you hate us-“

“Stop JJ” You just wanted it to stop. The consequence of your actions pounding down on you with every word that left his mouth.

“Stop what?!” He couldn’t help but shake you.

“Talking! Stop talking!” You shoved him forcefully off of you.

“The hell's wrong with you?! dude I’m worried about you. Today’s just been so weird.” His fingers shoved themselves through his hair, a nervous habit of his.

The familiar lump in your throat began to form at the sight of your best friend.

“I’m tired J.” It wasn’t a lie, you really were fucking exhausted. You were tired of lying, tired of watching the boy you loved love someone else, tired of trudging through your life heartbroken.

“You’re lying.” He shook his head like a disappointed parent. “Why you lyin' to me?”

“JJ. I’m. Tired.” You screwed your eyes shut as your breathing began to quicken “I’m not lying I’m just-“

“Okay alright.” His embrace cut you off. “I believe you.” He hated seeing you upset. Having known you practically his whole life, he also knew that nothing ever got resolved when you got like this, so he dropped the subject.

You almost broke down then and there, using everything you had in you to move your arms around him, hugging him back.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, the meaning behind your words far greater than he could realise.

“Hey it’s okay, we all have off days right?” He let go of you and gave you a small smile.

“Right.” Your remained court and quiet.

“I’ll see you tonight. Go rest for a bit okay?”

You nodded and began to walk away before his voice stopped you once more.

“Yo” You turned to see that he had shoved his hands in pockets. “You’d tell me if something was wrong right?” He hated that he even had to ask.

“Mhm, course” You lied straight through your teeth before turning and walking away from him uninterrupted. You knew that as soon and as your bedroom door closed behind you, you’d sink down into a pit of despair and loathing.

Whilst the resolution had given him a little comfort, something deep inside told him that this wasn’t the end of it.

Perhaps he should have left things alone, maybe then things wouldn’t have escalated to extent that they were about to.

So as he watched you walk away, JJ stood there unknowing of what was to come. Unknowing of the way things were about to change between you forever.

#jj maybank #rafe cameron #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank x you #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader x jj #outer banks #obx #jj maybank angst #bsf!jj maybank

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spicy-apple-pie · 3 days ago

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Swearing is weird in Wayne Manor. Especially before Jason dies.

Alfred was taught that swearing is impolite and implies that you have a small vocabulary or are dumb. So when he’s in charge of Bruce he, of course, applies those same principles. Once Bruce hits the age where he knows what swears are and how to use him, he introduces a swear jar. Which he thinks is very lenient because he used to get a wooden spoon to the butt at Bruce’s age. Bruce, being a tween, is pretty upset with this, but accepts it as he grows older.

Fast forward and Dick is adopted. Dick’s parents (and the circus in general) swore like sailors, so they didn’t really see the need to limit his use when it’s just them. But when interacting with children, they teach him not to use those words. When he asks why, they shrug and say that some times people don’t like those words, and you can’t tell who’s okay with it and who’s not. So make sure you use those words when you’re with someone who is comfortable with them.

And Dick thinks to himself how much it would suck to have to watch your language with someone 24/7.

Cut to Alfred bringing the swear jar back because Dick is swearing too much for his taste. And Dick is pissed. Because he wants to say whatever he wants, and his parents always let him swear. Alfred allows him a little grace, but for the most part, he will ask that Dick put a dollar in the jar for anything worse than crap or hell.

But Bruce remembers how frustrating it was, so he lets Dick swear as much as he wants when Alfred wasn't around. Even though the swear jar isn't for him, he still doesn't want to risk Alfred going off on him. So long as Dick isn't swearing in school or in front of Alfred, he can say whatever he wants.

But Jason is another story. Because Jason swears in almost every sentence, but the swear jar gives him massive anxiety because of his financial insecurity. Alfred tries to get creative and assigns chores for Jason to do. But Jason is like, not too upset by the idea of taking the trash out, or vacuuming. Until he realizes that it takes time away from his reading. But since Dick is an adult now, Alfred has no say in what kind of language he uses, so he's swearing more often. So eventually Alfred gives up but still doesn't approve.

After Jason dies, all sense of normal is thrown out the window. And with Tim and Cassandra, it's hard to discipline them for different reasons. Tim technically isn't Bruce's child, so it feels a little weird to impose a swear jar on him. Luckily, Tim doesn't swear too much to begin with, because when he was little is mom and a few nannies would wash his mouth out with soap when he swore. Alfred is not happy when he hears that, but again, not Bruce's kid. Cass is just learning to talk with them so she doesn't know a lot of swears. When she does learn them, Alfred really can't get made because it just shows him how much progress she's made.

So thanks to Tim and Cass, swearing in the manor is free reign. Dick and Jason are a little jealous of their sibings that didn't have to get lectures about swearing tho...

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pellucid-constellations · 23 hours ago

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Fable - During

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel was too late, and something was brewing. The fate of your wings rested in the balance and there was nothing left of him to reconcile with.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Angst, injury, violence

a/n: This is part of a mini-series but each part can be read on its own/out of order. The next part is going to be long guys <3 Thank you for reading all of this angst!!!

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

The ground beneath Azriel’s feet must have disappeared.

He was unstable, falling, plummeting into an unknown abyss.

When he looked down, Azriel saw the plush carpet at his feet, but as he replayed Rhysand’s words—four words, echoing—the blur behind his eyes made the physical obsolete. We can’t find her, Rhysand had said, followed by a multitude of questions from Cassian that Azriel could not hear. Everything was buzzing and the carpet was gone.

Where was Lucien? Azriel remembered that Lucien was to go with you. Where was he?

He had to be dead because if he were alive and you were missing, Azriel would kill him himself.

“Lucien,” Azriel spoke, his voice rough, interrupting the conversation he had not been part of.

“What?” Rhysand asked.

But Cassian ignored his High Lord’s confusion. “She was never bringing Lucien,” he growled, throwing his brother a sneer. “She only said that to make sure you went on your date. I told her I should’ve come. I told her—”

Azriel had lost his breath. He was grappling for it, trying to make sense of Cassian’s words as his lungs began to burn, but you wouldn’t do that, would you? Why would you lie to him? Over something like this?

“Cassian, enough,” Azriel gasped, the buzzing of his brother’s voice a constant barrier in the losing battle within his head. “Who’s looking for her? Where should we go?”

Azriel was dressed in a ridiculous button-up shirt with slacks that now felt too tight on his legs. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms and his shadows took advantage of the open space, trailing up to protect him from nothing. Because nothing was here—he wasn’t in danger.

You were.

Azriel had only gotten through drinks with Elain before the call from his High Lord sent him into the sky. He couldn’t remember if he apologized. Azriel’s shoes were pinching his feet.

“I had just lost connection with her when I called you. I sent her to the northeast camp. There’s a possibility that—”

Azriel was traveling through the shadows, darkness consuming him before Rhysand could finish his sentence. He should have grabbed Cassian for backup, but that was a thought Azriel would only have much, much later.

His mind was on you—only on you.

That wasn’t unnatural for Azriel; you were one of the most important people in his life and you had been in trouble before. Life-threatening, war-induced trouble, but somehow, this felt different.

You had been distant lately.

Azriel had noticed, but Azriel had also been so zeroed in on getting Elain’s attention that he figured he would have time to check on you in a few weeks.

When he landed in the camp, the foreboding quiet made him consider that he might never get to check on you again. Illyrian camps were never quiet. There was always shouting or fighting or nagging mothers getting after their young. But the insects in the bushes could be heard in this camp, and Azriel paused amid his racing heart to make sense of the noise.

And then he heard the scream.

Your scream.

And he was running.

His shoes groaned as they pounded into soft dirt and you screamed again. Azriel had never heard that sound come from you. The way it erupted into the air—it was as if it was ripped from your throat, evoked from nothing but agony.

He pushed himself harder, faster, until the screams became closer and a small hut materialized on the horizon. The image of the quaint house brought Azriel relief, but that relief was short-lived because your screams had become tired in his journey. With each step, your voice broke more and more and Azriel didn’t even feel angry.

The rage he expected to feel was consumed by the terror that gripped him.

He ripped open the door and that terror only increased tenfold.

Azriel was usually focused during battle, his mind razor-sharp. He was known for calculating every step, for remembering each life he took, and being able to recount each slice of his blade when asked for a report days later. Azriel was a warrior and a spy.

But Azriel could not remember his actions.

From the moment he opened the door and found you on the ground, surrounded by enemies and so broken, he lost the ability to calculate anything other than death.

He figured a few must have gotten away because he vaguely registered that the door made a sound. But over the screams, that sound was inconsequential, and with the image of you before him, lying in your blood, chest only minutely rising and falling, everything else was inconsequential.

He only remembered that the rage finally found him.

Only when bodies littered the floor did the anger make way for the visceral fear that came with reaching for you—grabbing you as you let out small, weak sounds and took labored breaths.

“Y/n?” Azriel stressed, eyes roving over your figure with haste that his hands couldn't match. He had to be careful; so much of you was broken. “Y/n,” he spoke again, as if the echo of your name would somehow fix you, snap you out of the hurt.

Azriel’s breath quivered. His scarred hands hovered over your skin now, afraid to touch you more than to bring you into his arms. His fingers shook. Your wings—it was your wings.

“You’re okay,” Azriel affirmed, whispering only to himself. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Salt tainted the surface of his tongue, and Azriel then recognized that he was crying. Fat, heavy tears blurred his vision and fell into his mouth as he repeated his mantra into the stagnant air.

Your wings looked beyond repair. When Hybern destroyed Cassian’s, the roots remained. The delicate flesh was burned and torn, but regrowth was still feasible.

Only small pieces of the membrane along your back remained.

Azriel’s soul wept.

You groaned, and Azriel stopped his inspection of your back, his hands brushing your hair off from where it stuck to your skin.

“Y/n?” he tried again. “Can you hear me? I’m—I’m going to bring you home, okay? You’re going to be fine, I promise.”

He shouldn’t have promised that. His voice broke as he spoke the words and Azriel knew he shouldn’t have promised that because you only let out a broken rendition of ‘my wings?’ that Azriel had no response to. He only squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to your temple before shadows consumed him once more. They had been rampaging around the pair, whispering worried, angry words in Azriel’s ear, but they remained faithful.

They brought you home.

Mor screamed first.

He assumed everyone would be out looking for you, but Azriel hadn’t broken the connection to Rhysand’s mind, and they had been expecting him. His family stood before him as your blood stained the rug of his High Lord’s favorite sitting room. Rhysand was missing, gone to retrieve Madja, but Azriel was only looking for those he knew could help you.

His throat caught on air as he frantically searched for Feyre in the room. When he saw her wide eyes, he let out a desperate, “Help her,” that sounded nothing like him. His High Lady’s shoulders rose and fell with hurried panic as she came forward and then hesitated.

Azriel heard someone vomit in the corner of the room—Cassian, he thought—and Mor came to kneel beside him.

“Feyre,” he sobbed. “Please. Please, try.”

Mor was crying. Cassian had wiped his mouth and come to stand beside Feyre, but everyone was too afraid to touch you. You rested in Azriel’s arms, but even his palms remained face up and did not connect with your skin. He would break you more, he was sure of it. Your wings bent at odd angles and hung from your body by only tethered threads and no one knew what to do.

Azriel thought that dying would be better than this.

His button-up was stained red.

“Fuck.” Rhysand’s voice rattled the air in the House. At some point, Feyre had broken her hesitancy and kneeled before you, a gentle glow emitting from her hands as she tried to stitch together the broken remains of your skin. When her mate appeared with the elder healer, she turned wild eyes towards him. Rhysand stood frozen, mimicking each person in the room, but he was the High Lord—a composed leader—so his reverie lasted only seconds before he was sent into action.

“The table,” Rhysand demanded. “Lay her on the table.”

No one moved.

Azriel couldn’t stop looking at you.

Madja then spoke, no, demanded, “Now.”

The table was cleared, everything swiped to the floor with abandon. As gently as he could, Azriel rose from the floor on shaking legs and heaved you up with him, offering soft apologies as you cried out. He wished you would pass out from the pain, be free of it all, but the agonizing reality that you might not wake up struck him harder.

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he whispered against your hair. His body ached. Azriel leaned you against the table as the other members of his family turned you on your stomach. He kneeled to meet your lidded gaze, your face pressed against the wood. “Madja’s going to fix it, okay?”

The healer was giving orders—Cassian to get water, Mor to support your head, Feyre for support. It was all a buzz in Azriel’s ears. He licked his lips and tried to meet your eyes, but they were trailing off, unfocused.

“Y/n?” he tried. “Angel?” A name he had dropped once Elain came into the picture. Your lashes fluttered. His attention peaked. “It’s okay, angel. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry—”

Azriel was torn from his position on the ground, a heavy hand shoving him up and against the wall. His shadows remained caressing your skin, but a fist met Azriel's face and he lost sight of you.

“This is your fault.”

“Cassian!” Mor called, desperately pleading with no one.

“It is,” Cassian seethed, his arm pressed to the Shadowsinger’s throat. “If he hadn’t been searching for something with a woman not even meant to be his, he would have been there. She would have said anything to ensure your happiness. Anything, Azriel.”

Azriel blinked and Cassian’s face was inches from his own. “I didn’t—”

“You have been blinded, brother. You’ve been blind for years and now this is the price.”

“I don’t—what are you saying?” Azriel pleaded, trying and failing to look over Cassian’s broad wings to catch a glimpse of you.

“Cassian, this is not the time,” Mor scolded, but the anguish burned so deeply in Cassian’s eyes that Azriel could tell he wasn’t hearing her.

“She gave you everything,” his brother continued. “She—”

Your scream punctuated the building tension in the room. Cassian whipped around and Azriel used the opportunity to shove him away, the Shadowsinger racing to your side once again. But, once again, he was pushed away. Rhysand held his shoulder back this time, shaking his head with a furrowed brow.

The screams echoed in the room and they hurt.

They hurt everyone.

Feyre and Mor stood beside Madja, the three of them set to the fruitless task of saving your wings. A small part of Azriel spoke the truth that they were also just trying to save you. You had lost so much blood and he still knew nothing of your other injuries.

“Rhys,” Azriel begged, beseeching him with his gaze.

But Rhysand only shook his head once more. “They need the space.”

“She needs me.”

Cassian scoffed and ground his jaw, but a glance in the general’s direction found only tears and the quivering of his lips as he pressed them together.

“You need to let them work.”

“This is my fault,” Azriel spoke, his tone dead, lost within the echo of your screams. “I was seeing Elain,” he admitted. He met Rhysand’s eyes. “You told me not to. She lied so I could go.”

Rhysand didn’t even look disappointed. He didn’t look surprised. He only ticked his jaw to the side and breathed deeply through his nose as your screams filled the room once more.

Azriel flinched. The soles of his shoes were caked with blood and cracked along the stitches.

Rhysand would have the right to be angry. He had the right to send Azriel away and force him to sit in uncertainty and the consequences of the night, but Rhysand found something familiar in the Shadowsinger’s eyes—something different. Something that Rhysand could find in himself if he were to search his mind from the night he thought Feyre to be dead.

Impossible, the High Lord assumed, but you were still screaming and there was no time to inspect the intricacies of Azriel’s reaction.

So Rhysand only held back the maelstrom of his own emotions, his sister broken on the table just feet from him, and kept his response to that of a leader.

“Let them work, Azriel.”

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst

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kooktrash · 1 day ago

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infrunami ✮ jeon jungkook

summary: you’ve made great friends throughout the years but none like jeon jungkook. he’s there for you when you need him and although at times when things get complicated between your feelings and thoughts… there’s one thing for certain. you both have been wasting time acting like there’s nothing between you.

✮ genre/au: friends to lovers. y/n[afab, she/her] x best friend jungkook

✮ 18.7k

warnings: smut. f2l. slice of life. besties jk and y/n. slight jealousy vibes. idiots to lovers. lot of sexual tension. everyone knows they like each other. for the smut [no protection sorry yall]. heavy makeout. slight dry humping. grinding. doggy style. soft dom vibes jk. whiny y/n. jk gets jealous but never admits it. they both talk to other people bc they’re in denial.

song inspo: infrunami—steve lacy, my kind of woman—mac de marco, no. 1 party anthem—arctic monkeys, love between—kali uchis

Friendships in your twenties, you’ve learned, come in various forms.

There were people you’ve known since you were a teen and people you’ve only just met. Some who know everything about you and some who only get a piece of you. You’ve got the ones you meet up with on a random Thursday to run an errand because you haven't seen each other in so long—and you have the ones who seem to always be knocking on your door. Having people who wanted to be around you was one of the best things you’ve ever experienced.

“You’re late.”

He raised his shoulders in a shrug as he picked up the helmet that was strapped onto the back of a black motorcycle, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Part of you gave up on acting upset as you let him slip the helmet over your head. You took his backpack off his shoulders and shoved your things inside before putting it on your back.

“Thanks for the ride,” You hooked a leg over the seat, straddling the bike as you fixed yourself up behind him. The helmet fit snugly around your head and you held him around the waist comfortably, “I’ll buy you a meal.”

“You promise?” Jungkook asked with a teasing smile as he kicked up the stand and brought the engine to life, “I’m craving steak.”

“Just don’t break my pocket,” You patted him softly, checking your phone one last time, “I swear if they don’t give me my car back I’m going to throw a fit.”

“Maybe next time don’t park in a restricted area,” He said lastly, driving off with youn. Your friendship with Jungkook was different from the others. He was your best friend.

Not in the way Mirae was or even Taehyung but he was up there. He’s the one you’d have knocking on your door because he’s bored or bothering you during the middle of the night. He’s also the one you call because you know he’ll answer.

You don’t remember exactly how you two met but it was some time during college, an after party maybe? Campus? Not likely. He was infamous for never showing up. Whatever, it was beyond the point. The point is that somewhere along the way you made friends with an overly clingy man who spent too much time at the gym or gaming in his bedroom when he wasn’t at work.

No, you’re not dating him nor do you want to. He’s kind of just… your overly good looking friend who would do anything for you.

“I forgot my lunch at home so I’m starving,” Jungkook pushed past you to get inside the small barbecue place he dragged you to. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and follow. He’s taken his backpack back to set it on the chair next to his and you sat across from him. It was a familiar place to eat and the menus took up an unnecessary amount of space so he took them both without question.

“What if I wanted to try something new?” You asked with a slight scoff, pretending to be annoyed but he saw right through it.

“You don’t, you’re too picky. You’re just going to get the same thing you always get,” Jungkook said with another shrug before giving you a menu back anyway, “But fine, browse a little.”

“Chill on the attitude,” You joked, looking over the menu with disinterest.

“How do either of you manage to be here at least once a week?” The server grumbled as he approached the table, “And that’s on a good week.”

“Hey, I haven’t been here in like, four days?” You said, second guessing yourself and looking at your friend, “He’d live here everyday if he could.”

“True, Jin is one of the best cooks I know,” Jungkook confessed, making your server roll his eyes.

“Please, Jin’s rarely here since the new place opened up but don’t worry, I’ll pretend to believe you,” he snatched the menus away from you both, “And like you don’t get the ‘Family & Friends’ discount. What’ll it be? The usual?”

Jungkook turned to you with an amused expression, eyebrows raised as he waited to hear your new order. He even had the nerve to rest his chin in the palm of his hand and the server waited with a bored expression.

You sunk into your seat, “The usual.”

“Damn, we should’ve bet on it,” Jungkook grimaced as he took his phone out of his pocket to scroll through his socials, “So how was the meeting? It took a while didn’t it?”

“Don’t even get me started on it, I can already tell they’re going to be a handful. I might pass them onto Mirae,” You told him honestly, “She can handle them better than I could.”

“It’s because you’re hot headed,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He felt your hard stare and he couldn’t help but smirk, “You know you are.”

“Says the guy who almost got into a fight because of Overwatch,” you threw your straw wrapper at him but he caught it and chucked it back at you.

“First of all we were in a tournament and I could’ve won some money,” Jungkook said defensively, “Any sane person would react the same way.”

You raised your brows pretending to be convinced and stared off into space. After your meal and you footed the bill like promised, Jungkook drove you to your apartment.

“Let me know if you need a ride to the garage tomorrow,” Jungkook said as he took the helmet back and you retrieved your things from his backpack.

“What are your plans tonight?” You asked curiously as he got back on his bike.

“I don’t know, a friend of mine asked me to go have drinks with him so I’ll probably do that,” He told you honestly, “Why? Wanna watch ’Love, Death & Robots’ again?”

“Just curious, be safe and don’t drive,” You reminded him.

A grin widened on his face, “Will you pick me up if I drink too much—oh right, you don’t have a car… awkward.”

“Asshole,” you hit him playfully, making him sway but he kept himself steady.

“I’ll call for an Uber or something, night.”

There’s not a specific moment that made you and Jungkook become good friends. You sort of just clicked right away. In the beginning there might’ve been a slight tinge of attraction but it was the kind you felt for a stranger walking past. It wasn’t anything either of you wanted to pursue and ended with a good friendship. You learned a lot from each other and somehow managed to co-exist together.

In the beginning nearly all of his friends thought you were into him. They tried to put it into his head that you had a thing for him but it never went anywhere. Jungkook never made a move on you and after a while everyone just accepted it.

This is what friendship looked like. You didn’t have to sleep with each other. You were like one of the guys… aside from the obvious. Now everyone just takes you as you are, a good friend of his with no sexual feelings involved.

“You just got off work?” Yoongi asked as Jungkook finally joined him at the bar, “I thought I was going to have to drink enough for the both of us tonight.”

“Don’t you wish,” Jungkook chuckled, taking a seat and the drink his friend ordered for him, “But no, I was having dinner and had to drive Y/n home.”

“Oh, how is she? Haven’t seen her in a while,” Yoongi asked.

“Her car got Towed at my apartment for parking in someone’s spot a couple days ago. She’s pissed,” Jungkook answered knowingly, “But she’ll survive. What’d you ask me over here for?”

“Oh, I’m talking to this girl who’ll be here soon and she’s got a friend with her.”

✮

Two hundred dollars down the drain all because you parked somewhere you weren’t supposed to. It puts you in a bad mood for a couple days. You weren’t necessarily short on cash but that didn’t mean you wanted to waste it to get your car back.

“Don’t touch me I’m sad,” You mumbled into your desk as your coworker hovered a hand over your back ready to comfort you.

“You didn’t get it back?” Jimin asked, opting to sit on the edge of your desk instead.

“I did, that’s why I’m sad,” You nearly cried, “I’m never staying at anyone’s apartment but mine ever again. It’s too expensive and there’s never enough parking anywhere.”

“Poor you, I know what’ll cheer you up though,” Jimin said with a scheming smile that had your head raising skeptically, “You, Mirae and I out for dinner and a couple drinks after work.”

“I’m pretty sure I just said how much money I spent!” You rolled your eyes making him do the same.

“I’ll pay, silly,” Jimin said, “You look like you could use a drink.”

You were a victim of peer pressure, and for pressure you needed very little of it. All it took was both of your friends reminding you how much fun it would be before the FOMO set in and you joined them.

“You’re so easily persuaded,” Mirae said with a laugh, “Min didn’t even have to beg this time.”

“I’m going through a tough time right now,” You said playfully, reaching across the table for another portion of fries, “Thanks for taking those clients.”

“Yeah yeah, but if I need any favor you better be the first one to grant it,” Mirae pointed a stern finger at you and you nodded eagerly.

“One Wish coupon with your name written on it, noted,” You tapped your head a couple times before shooting her a Thumb’s Up. Your coworker [turned close friend] rolled her eyes with a smile as she raised her glass, “Ready to chug?”

“Oh fuck no,” Jimin groaned, staring down his nearly full glass, “Are we drinking-drinking or are we drinking?”

“Baddie Baddie Shot O’Clock,” you nudge his arm, “Don’t be scared now. You asked for this.”

“We have work tomorro—fuck it, let’s do it,” Jimin said while you and Mirae began a chant ready to take the drink.

There were a couple… a few drinks involved for all of you. It was supposed to be something casual but that never seems to be the case when you’re with your work friends. They’re a good time all the time and sometimes a nice break. Aside from Jungkook, they're some of your closest friends. They know you in a different light than he does. With Mirae you can talk to her about anything and with Jimin he‘s a good time. He doesn’t tease or scold you the way Jungkook does… he lets you have fun.

Not to say Jungkook doesn’t but it’s different and you don’t know how to explain why.

jungkook: hungryyyyyyyyy

jungkook: hungryyyyyyy

jungkook: HUNGRYYYY

you: lower your voice smh

“Is that Jungkook?” Jimin asked, stealing a fry for your plate, “What’s he doing? Ask him to meet us.”

“No, I’m mad at him,” You said with a huff, thinking about the expensive towing bill. You weren’t actually mad at him but more about the price you paid today. Jungkook is the one who told you it was fine to park there and the one night you do, your car gets towed. It’s never happened before and it’s technically his fault. His stupid landlord is an asshole and therefore you’re never stepping foot at his place again.

you: and actually I’m mad at you

jungkook: 🤓 why

you: 200$ 😞

jungkook: :(

you: you better buy me a spot if you want me to come over again

jungkook: hell no

You put your phone face down and looked at your empty glass, wiggling your brows at your two friends, “Another?”

jungkook: hungrryyyyy

Jimin rolled his eyes even as he let you go to the bar and order more. While you were gone he got on his phone and began to type. Mirae looked over his shoulder, “Who are you calling?”

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook knew Jimin well enough to have his number saved. They weren’t close but he’s met him around you before and the guy’s cool. When he called Jungkook assumed it had something to do with you and answered.

“Hey man, what are you doing?”

“Starving,” Jungkook groaned, staring at his empty fridge, “You?”

“Come to JJ’s, Y/n is here and we’re having a few drinks. There’s some food,” Jimin said as he looked up at you.

“Jungkook’s on his way,” Jimin told you once the call came to an end but you barely shrugged in response.

When Jungkook arrived you greeted him like normal and he bumped you further into the booth before immediately digging into your plate. He even had the nerve to ask which drink was yours before taking it, “I haven’t eaten all day.”

“Why do I feel like that’s a lie?” Jimin asked, trying to pass Jungkook the menu so he could order something for himself, “How are ya, buddy?”

“Alright, busy with work,” Jungkook said with a shrug, “It’s been back to back sessions lately and I think I need a break.”

“Have you been going to the chiropractor?” You asked worriedly. Jungkook sneered, turning to look at you, “I thought you were mad at me.”

Your jaw nearly dropped as you scoffed. He’s here eating your food and giving you attitude? It’s obvious he’s joking but it’s annoying. You crossed your arms over your chest and slumped back, “You’re here eating my food, asshole. Fine I won’t talk to you then.”

“I have been going to the chiro,” Jungkook says to you, “Thanks for worrying.”

“I wasn’t worrying,” You rolled your eyes looking across the table at Mirae as Jungkook and Jimin talked like they were good friends.

“Okay I know what I’m using my wish coupon on,” Mirae said suddenly, “You’re going with me to the movies.”

“Yay, what are we watching?” You asked more interested now.

“I don’t know. The guys haven’t chosen the movie yet,” Mirae said as she got on her phone and went to add you to a groupchat.

“What guys?” Jimin asked curiously, making Jungkook turn to look as well.

“My friend’s boyfriend and his friends,” Mirae explained briefly, “They've been wanting to go see this horror movie but it always feels awkward when I tag along with her, her man and his friends.”

“Sounds like a group date,” Jungkook said to you, watching your excitement slowly turn to dejection and for some reason it made his heart beat faster.

“It kinda does,” You agreed.

“It’s not like that. They’re actually kind of cool but I still want someone to talk to,” Mirae told you, “They’re cute.”

“Let me see a picture,” You reached out for her phone.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Jungkook asked Jimin who aggressively shook his head no.

“Not since the last one, I think she broke my heart,” Jimin pretended to sniffle, “You?”

“Nah, kinda? No,” Jungkook shook his head, “Whatever it is, it's nothing serious.”

“It’s never serious,” You corrected, “I don’t know how he keeps track of them all.”

“Don’t make me out to be a slut,” Jungkook placed his hand over his chest. Easy banter went on for the rest of the night. It was casual and comforting to spend time with those close to you on a random week night. It reminded you of how good things can be and why you liked being with them. Jimin was fun, careless, considerate. Mirae is full of welcomed attitude and charm. Jungkook is comfortable and protective, always around and ready to meet up for anything. They made things feel easy.

When you date a guy you want him to fit in with your friends and that is hard to find.

✮

Jungkook has always been a laid back guy. Despite whatever struggles he’s had, he’s always taken them with a strong head on his shoulders and people to support him. He comes from a loving family and close friends he’s known for years. He’s been in relationships and talking stages that changed him and did his military service as early as he could. He had a plan for himself and when he decided to go to college he didn’t expect to meet you.

It’s not like you had a huge impact on him or anything but he didn’t expect to meet someone he can get along with so easily. He thought he already had his lifelong friends picked out. How did you manage to force your way into his close circle and introduce to people and things he wouldn’t have known otherwise.

You’re his best friend and don’t let any of the guys hear him admit that. They already give him too much shit about you.

“Are you going for Y/n?” His friend asked a few days after he met up with you and your friends for dinner. He’s been up to his usual routine during the week and has barely gotton to see or talk to you.

Jungkook and his friend just had a two hour gym session that left them both jittery and out of breath as they sat in the locker room packing up their belongings. He pulled his helmet out and carried it next to him as he shook his head no, “I’m not driving her around anymore.”

“She got her car back? That’s good,” Taehyung said. You didn’t have it for almost a full week and during that time Jungkook was helping you get to and from work. Since then you’ve had your car and haven’t had a reason to call him up—not that it mattered or anything.

“Wanna get on the game later?” He asked.

“Sure, I’ll shower and have dinner then hop on.”

The two split ways and Jungkook got on his bike to rush home. His evenings didn’t contain much excitement as they did during his college days but they were alright. He’d do exercises after work, head home and wash up, make dinner or go out, and hang out. If he was seeing someone it would look slightly different but he doesn’t usually let it get that far.

It’s not that he’s scared of commitment or anything, he just doesn’t feel the need to be dating at the moment. He’s perfectly content with the way he lives and if he were to get serious with anyone it would have to be someone who understands him. Yes, he does the occasional hook up or fling but they’re never more than that. He’s bad at seriously dating. He’s got to feel truly comfortable with someone.

After his shower, he stood alone in his kitchen thinking of what to make for dinner when he checked the time on his phone. It was almost nine and he’s yet to hear about how your night has gone. The movie was set at six so you had to rush after work to meet with Mirae and all her people but the movie should’ve ended by now. Why haven’t you told him how it went if it’s over now?

Maybe he should just ask.

jungkook: is the movie over

You probably won’t respond if your phone’s on ‘Do Not Disturb’ so he didn’t expect a response.

you: yeah

jungkook: was it scary

you: ehhhhhh not really

jungkook: what r u doing now

you: they wanted to get food after

jungkook: and here I am cooking for myself

Without question Jungkook took a picture of it all, sending it right to you with a message that said;

jungkook: ur favorite

you: 👀 is that an invite

jungkook: depends, r u gonna actually come over or hang out with ur new friends

you: idk one of them is reallllyyyyyy cute

jungkook: stay with them then

You looked at everyone you were with curiously. The movie had ended a bit ago and you were walking to the nearest restaurant talking. Mirae was right, the guys were cool and her friend was nice but it was a lot of effort on your part to be social. One of the guys was particularly cute and he spent a little more time with you than anyone else but did that really mean anything?

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” You said, thinking about the early morning you have tomorrow and how everyone seemed ready to grab a few drinks. Mirae looked at you, “Really? You’re not even hungry?”

“Not really,” You lied with a shrug, “Are you gonna be good?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You said goodbye to them all, sharing information with the cute friend and split ways. On your way to Jungkook’s he let you know parking spot 97 was good to use and despite arguing with him about it you took his word.

“If I get towed again we’re not going to be friends anymore,” You told him once you let yourself into his apartment, immediately being greeted by Bam whose tail whipped back and forth behind him with excitement.

“It’s my spot, Goofy,” Jungkook said, casually throwing on a shirt once you were in. Up until now he’s been cooking shirtless from his shower.

“Your spot is 98,” You reminded him, watching the way he rolled his eyes and turned the stove off.

“Didn’t you tell me to rent you one?” Jungkook asked, pulling the pot off the stove and onto a cooling rack, “Grab bowls.”

“You actually did it?” You asked with a smile, “Bless your kind soul.”

He brushed you off as you did what he asked and went straight to the end of the peninsula countertop where you could sit and eat. Jungkook didn’t bother sitting down, choosing to eat standing up behind the counter and looking at you with curiosity.

“What?”

“How was the date?” He asked.

“What date?” You scoffed, “You mean the movie? One, it wasn’t a date and Two, I told you it was alright.”

“You didn’t drink, did you?” Jungkook asked, ignoring the attitude behind your words. You rolled your eyes, “I wouldn’t have driven here if I had been. I left before we made it to the restaurants. Why so curious tonight?”

He shrugged, the plate completely empty and he began to wash it and what he used to cook. When you finished and offered to help he told you no and washed your stuff too.

“I’m so full, have I ever told you how good of a Cook you are,” You said as you threw yourself onto his couch, a grunt leaving your lips when Bam nearly tackled you down.

“I wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” Jungkook said, rummaging through his fridge and smiling widely, “Want a drink?”

“I’m driving.”

“You can just crash on the couch, it’ll be fine,” Jungkook shrugged, carrying over a couple glasses and a bottle of Soju.

That was enough convincing for you to sit on the floor beside him as he set things down on the coffee table. You took the remote and played some movie in the background as he poured the small glass.

“You’re a bad influence,” You joked as you took the first drink like it was a pre-starter and he did the same, “We’ve got work tomorrow.”

“You only go in for a couple hours, I know your schedule, don't forget that,” Jungkook pointed a teasing finger at you, plopping down on the floor with his legs crossed, “I’ve got a beginner’s session around 10am and a few private classes after. I’ll be the one regretting it tomorrow, not you.”

“Yet you’re still the one asking for more,” You said playfully, reaching for the familiar green bottle and pouring a little more in his glass. You didn’t notice the way Jungkook’s gaze flickered down to your exposed waist when you leaned over the coffee table to grab it. The waist of your underwear showed just slightly underneath and he was surprised to find out it was black and lacy making his eyebrow quirk with curiosity. When you sat back down he looked away, pretending to be focused on the movie, “You dressed up for your date?”

“It wasn’t a date,” You said with a groan, sitting back a little closer to him than before and he didn’t bother moving away, “And look at what I’m wearing. Does it look like I dressed up?”

A knowing smirk pulled at his lips as he raised the glass to his lips, “I didn’t realize you wore lace so casually.”

Your brows furrowed with confusion, realization dawning on you just moments later and without thinking you pushed at him playfully, “How’d you know?”

Jungkook laughed, hand sliding down your back where your shirt rose and he didn’t hesitate to reach for the thin fabric nearly pulling on it just to feel you squirm. You couldn’t help but whine, moving away, “Freak.”

“Says you,” Jungkook said, keeping his hand on you, “Come on tell me, how was the date.”

“Why are you insisting it was a date?” You asked, taking a big gulp and turning to face him, “You never hear me asking about your little flings or whatever you like to call them nowadays.”

“But if you asked me I’d tell you, I wouldn’t be all secretive about it like you are,” He said with a shrug of his shoulders, “Hurry up and drink more.”

“Don’t pressure me,” You rolled your eyes but did as told, “And I did tell you. I said one of them were cute over text, remember?”

“Hardly,” He shrugged looking away with a bored expression, “Cuter than me?”

You didn’t say anything making him smile, “I’ll take that as a no.”

“He was alright, pretty cute and nice,” You finally said but Jungkook wasn’t listening anymore. His attention had drifted to the way you leaned against him with your side against his fitting perfectly beside him. It was obvious your words fell on deaf ears but you didn’t seem to mind either. You turned to face him, convince him that the guy you met was just cute but it wasn’t worth it. You’ll probably never see the guy again and if he does want to text, it most likely won’t lead to anything.

“What?” He asked, catching your stare.

“You’re drunk,” You pointed out his red cheeks and ears, “Already?”

“No.”

“Then why are you blushing?” You asked with a teasing smile going to poke his flushed cheek when he grabbed your hand suddenly. You both had been casually drinking since you sat down but it isn't until now that you can feel the alcohol take effect over your body. You blamed it for the way you were looking at your friend at the moment.

It was hard to see him as just Jungkook, right now you can only see him for how attractive he was. He’s gotten way more muscular lately and with the added tattoos it’s hard to ignore it. When you walked into his apartment earlier and found him shirtless it was hard not to look at his abdomen. You don’t remember the eight pack or his biceps that big. Without thinking you placed a hand on his chest, taut muscles tense underneath your touch.

Jungkook couldn’t help but let his breath hitch when your hand trailed down his rib cage suddenly, “What?”

“You’ve gotta get a new hobby, you’re going to get too bulky,” You said jokingly, feeling his muscles. He was taken back to have your hand on him but he didn’t back away, “But you like it.”

Not bothering to wait for a response, he lifted the end of his shirt displaying a smooth trail of muscle down his torso and prominent V-line that you tried not to eye too hard. Your hand slipped down without much thought to your actions and lifted your brows in surprise. His skin felt hot to the touch and part of you wanted to keep running your hand over him but you knew better. It would be weird if you did. It’s not like he’s just some random guy…

“I need to pee,” You blurted out, rushing to your feet and kicking his leg playfully, “Put your shirt down.”

“Might just take it off for you,” Jungkook teased, biting his lip watching you walk away.

When you were alone looking at yourself in the mirror it was easier to tell how you felt. You were past tipsy and buzzed but not fully drunk. Your vision was slightly blurry and when you stood straight you felt dizzy but it was the good kind of dizzy.

“What next?” Jungkook asked when you came out of the bathroom, hair up in a clip now and makeup wiped away with some wet wipe he had in the bathroom. He had to do a double take at your new appearance but he didn’t mind the change. You looked comfortable and he can see the clear look of buzz on your face that he’s sure matched his, “Or are you calling it already?”

“Calling what?” You sat back down next to him, stumbling into him a little and he helped you with a hand on your waist guiding you down. Neither of you seemed to care for the fact that you were partially sitting on his lap.

“Calling it a night,” Jungkook said, shifting you closer to his front, “You’ve taken off your makeup, put your hair up… you look ready for bed.”

“I thought you wanted to drink,” You said, suddenly aware of how close the two of you were and his lip piercing had a slight shine from the light reflecting off of it.

“Not if your date tired you out,” Jungkook said with a knowing smirk when you rolled your eyes, leaning into him a little more. He didn’t care who you met up with tonight but he knows it’s getting on your nerves and sometimes he loves to push your buttons, “You probably would’ve preferred to stay out with them since one of them was… what’d you say? Cute? Nice?”

“If you think that, why'd you ask me to come over?” You asked slightly irritated now.

He shrugged, grinning now when he felt you relax in his hold, almost straddling him, “Technically, I did say you could stay with them.”

Your eyes narrowed, hands on his chest ready to push yourself off him, “Fine, I got his number. I’ll see if they’re still ou—“

“No,” He whined, arms tightening around your waist, “No, you’re already here and you’re drunk now. You can’t leave, be a safe driver.”

“Are you trying to manipulate me to stay?” You couldn’t help but laugh, arms circling around his neck. He felt your breath tickle his ear and for some reason it made a shiver run down his spine.

“Depends, is it working?”

It was.

It had been since the beginning. Jungkook didn’t need to do much to get you to hang out with him and he knew that. It’s the same way around. It takes little for Jungkook to beg you to spend time with him. You’re his best friend.

And as his best friend… sometimes… sometimes he wonders how your lips taste. He doesn’t remember when his hand moved from your waist to your neck, or how he moved it to tilt your chin up until your lips were brushing against each other. All he remembers is how close you were to kissing and all he needed was one push, one sign that you want this too and he’ll go for it.

You nearly fell into it too. You can blame the alcohol or the fact that Jungkook is incredibly hot despite only seeing him as a friend but you wanted to kiss him too. You would’ve.

Key words: Would Have.

“Open the door, you Fuck!”

You practically threw yourself off him as someone pounded on his door and it took you a second to reel in what was about to happen. Jungkook couldn’t move for a second, trying to understand why you got off of him so quickly when he heard it again.

“Jungkook, I checked your location, open up,” His friend yelled, knocking on the door, “I’m going to piss myself, let me in!”

“Coming!” Jungkook shouted, sounding annoyed as he got up to unlock the front door. You pulled yourself onto the couch, fixing your shirt that had risen when his hands had grazed your waist and stared down at the empty bottles of Soju.

“Tae—“ He couldn’t finish his sentence before his friend was pushing past him and running straight for the bathroom, waving hello to you before disappearing. He stood at the open door trying to wrap his head around what just happened.

The two of you were drinking, messing around and almost kissed? Almost? If Taehyung hadn’t come barging in would you have done it? Would you know when to stop? Would you stop anyway?

“Fuck, I was in the cab on my way home and he would not pull over,” Taehyung said once he was done with his business, “I was like ‘Listen dude, my friend lives around here so drop me off or I’m going to puke in your backseat’.”

“I thought you had to pee,” You chimed in when he sat down next to you, acting like he had been there the whole time.

“I thought so too but it came up the other way instead, what are you guys doing? Drinking?” Taehyung asked looking down at the coffee table, “Ugh I can’t even think about it, don’t play APT with Jin hyung, he talks too fast and wins everytime.”

“Maybe he was just speaking gibberish but you couldn’t tell,” Jungkook said, arms crossed over his chest looking unimpressed, “So… is the cab still out there waiting or…”

“Nah, I’m just gonna crash here—“

“Great!” Jungkook scoffed, “Sleepover at my place, first Y/n… now you… it’s like we’re in school…”

“Well I would’ve gone home if you didn’t ask to drink,” You told him trying to ignore the fact that you almost kissed but it was hard to ignore the way he bit his lip at you, “I could still call an Uber.”

“Nah, Taehyung can,” Jungkook said, sitting on the armchair across from you.

“Whoa, you’re the first person I thought of, why kick me out now? I’m drunk, Kook, be nice to me,” Taehyung pouted, leaning against your shoulder, “What’d you do? Why’s he so grumpy?”

“Don’t blame me, you’re the one that came pounding on the door so late at night,” You said playfully, shoving Taehyung off. He was more Jungkook’s friend then yours but you’ve hung out around him enough to feel comfortable with him.

“So? I always do that—Why?” Taehyung turned abruptly, “What were you guys doing?”

“Drinking,” Jungkook said, “You wouldn’t want to since yknow… Jin got you drunk… you probably want to call it a night…”

“Nah, I puked a little earlier so I’m fine now,” Taehyung said, “Plus I haven’t seen Y/n in a while, what are we watching?”

“Actually, I’m tired,” You told him with a small yawn, “I think I’m calling it a night.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Taehyung asked.

You laughed, “No, I’m just saying I’m tired.”

“Go to my room,” Jungkook said with a sigh, thinking about what the two of you were about to do before he stormed in, “I’ll stay out here with him.”

When you left, Jungkook threw a pillow at Taehyung’s head, making the other groan, “What?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook huffed , “Now I gotta sleep on the couch.”

Taehyung smirked, feeling more sober now as he put two and two together, “Or you could go follow your girlfriend…”

“We’re no—we’re not dating,” Jungkook thought about how you almost kissed and his face flushed red, “For fuck’s same, go get the extra blankets and pillows. I get the big couch—“

“But I’m like a centimeter taller than—“

“This is my house!” Jungkook yelled, throwing himself on the couch and covering his face with one of the pillows, “Or get an Uber back to yours.”

“Jeez, you’re rude tonight. I always come over when I’m drunk,” Taehyung laughed knowing how annoyed Jungkook was, “Just say you were going to get freaky with Y/n.”

“I wasn’t!”

✮

It took you a full day to come to terms with what happened the other night at Jungkook’s. The two of you had been drinking and almost kissed, almost.

There’s no way to deny it. You were close to kissing.

If Taehyung hadn’t shown up out of the blue, would you have done it? Would he have slept in the same bed as you? What would you do or say if he asked?

There’s always been an underlying sense of tension between you but you tried not to think about it. You told yourself that nothing was ever going to happen. It was just how friendships with someone you found attractive was.

A loud sigh left your lips, dropping your head against your keyboard and letting an endless stream of spaces fill the word document. Soft fingers pulled your head up to slide the keyboard out making you look up at the person who did it. Jimin sat at the end of your desk, “I was just sitting in my office wondering why my friend hasn’t gone to distract me today. What’s up with you?”

“Morning, can’t focus,” You told him.

“How’d the showing go?” Jimin asked, trying to find something that could get you talking.

“They liked it, it’s a little over their budget but I think we’ll close the deal on it,” You said.

“Good, what about the other night?”

“What about the other night?” Your question sounded rushed and made him look at you with peaked interest. He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked.

“With Mirae and the movie,” Jimin said. He watched you release a breath you weren’t aware you were holding and pressed you for more, “Did you talk to any of the guys?”

“Yeah… um, I did,” You sat back, chair swiveling out as you turned to face him, “His name’s Namjoon. I got his number and he texted me yesterday before the showing to wish me luck.”

“So what? Are you and Mirae gonna ditch me when you guys find someone? Who are going to be my drinking buddies when you’re off with your boyfriends? She told me all about the other guy, I’m starting to feel pushed aside,” Jimin spoke in a ramble making you roll your eyes.

“Relax, it was the first time I met him. Mirae, yeah she really hit it off with the other guy,” You said.

Jimin just nodded, taking in your words and finally deciding to bring it up, “Mirae said you left early though.”

“Yeah, they wanted to go out to eat but I wasn’t hungry…” You said.

“Bullshit, I checked your location, you went to Jungkook’s pla—“

“Okay! What’s up with all the stalking lately? First Taehyung, now you—we share locations so that you know I’m safe after a night out,” You pointed a finger at him, trying to deflect some of the questions away from you, “And yeah, I did go to his place. He made food and I didn’t want to go eat with all of them anyway.”

“Interesting excuse, so what? Did you guys fight or something? You know I understand you’re close friends but you’re not close friends like we are.“

“That’s not tru—“ You cut yourself off thinking about how you almost kissed Jungkook and as much as you love Jimin, you’ll never find yourself kissing him, almost!

A loud groan left your lips as you dropped your head against the keyboard again and Jimin watched the aggressive keyboard smash type out gibberish. This time it was his turn to roll his eyes and he stood up, “We both know that’s a lie but fine, I’ll let you be.”

You don’t remember how the rest of your day went aside from the fact that you were distracted the entire time. Right now you have three different clients you’re currently helping buy their first home and the last thing you need is to be distracted right now.

Jungkook is your friend and until he makes it clear that he is interested, you’re just going to move on. Well… even if he was interested, what does that mean? Does that mean you’re into him? It’s all so confusing.

He took a deep breath, leg threatening to bounce with anxiety as he counted the reps his current client did between sets.

“Kook, man, you’re killing me today,” His client said with a deep huff, nearly collapsing on the floor as he set the weight down, “I thought we’d be taking it easy after the last session.”

“I don’t know why you would think that,” Jungkook said, “Take a breather and do another fifteen.”

Even as he said that, he switched places with Hoseok and prepared himself to do a set. His client watched him with his mouth open in confusion, “It’s what you said! You said we’d be taking it easy today since last time was so much. I’m still a sore man, please don’t do this to me.”

”You’re right, I did say that,” Jungkook huffed, counting in his head as he did bench presses, “Next session we’ll take it easy.”

“Fuck, I need a new trainer,” Hoseok groaned, chugging back water and pacing back and forth.

“You’re at my gym! You’re lucky we’re friends, don’t say that,” Jungkook stood up and motioned for Hoseok to go, “Now you're doing twenty.”

“Rude,” Hoseok said, “What’s up with you anyways? You seem on edge today.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook said looking down at his gym bag where his phone currently was, “But uh, just out of curiosity… if someone hasn’t talked to you in a couple days, what does it mean?”

Hoseok couldn’t help but chuckle, “Come on, how old are we? That’s what you’re stressing about?”

When Jungkook didn’t laugh it off Hoseok got a little more serious, “Depends on the person. Girlfriend? Family member? Stranger?”

“Not girlfriend—just friend,” Jungkook clarified quickly.

“Friend?” Hoseok looked at him curiously, “Friend with the occasional benefits or Friend you’re currently upset with?”

“Neither, just friend,” Jungkook shook his head, “I mean… like actual, genuine friend and… fuck, I don’t know.”

“Who?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything but it wasn’t hard for Hoseok to connect the pieces, “Y/n?”

To that, Jungkook nodded meekly.

“I mean… it’s normal to not talk everyday. We don’t talk everyday, I send you like a hundred Instagram reels a day that you don’t see me crying about,” Hoseok said, skipping from 15 to 17 and hoping Jungkook didn’t catch the reps he didn’t do, “Which by the way, you could at least bother to react to every now and then.”

“Sorry, you’re right, I’m overthinking it,” Jungkook said, “And you’re not done, you skipped ahead.”

“Fucker,” Hoseok cursed under his breath and hurried to do them properly before he could take a break, “But honestly, what’s up with you and Y/n? Aren’t you ‘just friends’?”

“We are,” Jungkook bit his lip nervously, “I don’t know I’m being weird. I’ll just ask her what shes doing later.”

“Being weird about what?”

Jungkook looked at him with wide, rounded eyes like he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have and the words came out in a shy whisper, “Nothing.”

✮

Over the night Jungkook reached out to you. He sent you some stupid text about a new tv show he’s watching that he thinks you could get into. It wasn’t anything serious or anything but it brushed past what happened. It was normal.

Things were normal and clearly nothing had happened that night so you were overthinking for no reason.

“You don’t want to go?” Mirae asked, watching you stare at your reflection for the hundredth time trying to find something off about your appearance.

“I do, we’re going, don’t worry,” You looked around, “I just need perfume.”

“Where’s Jungkook?” She asked, standing up for you to give her some too. You checked the ETA on your Uber before answering.

“Huh? He’s probably already there, I don’t know. Let’s go downstairs, the Uber’s pulling up,” You told her as you quickly grabbed your things and began to walk out your room. Your friend followed suit, “And then we’re going out with Namjoon and Jisoo, right?”

The only reason Mirae agreed to come with you was so that you could go with her and the guy she likes later. A couple days ago Jungkook let you know that Taehyung was going to have a few friends over to watch some MMA fight on tv and drink. You still felt awkward seeing him in person and he knew you had no reason to say no so there was no point in trying. In the end you asked Mirae to join you and after begging, she agreed. She had plans with one of the guys from last week and found it perfect to have you tag along after.

You’ve been to Taehyung’s place once or twice before — usually with Jungkook — but it was different to walk in without him.

“Look who finally showed up,” Taehyung said with a smile as he opened the door for you and Mirae, “Hi Y/n, and Mirae right?”

The two have met before but it was brief and awkward so you were surprised he even remembered her name but they greeted each other politely anyway. You looked around, surprised to see a lot more people than you anticipated, “Doesn’t look like a couple friends, Tae.”

“I’m a social being,” Taehyung said with a hand to his chest, “Jungkook is somewhere around here. I thought you’d be coming with him and then got stuck waiting around for you to show up.”

“I need a drink first.”

Jungkook was across the room talking with some people you didn’t know. It wasn’t hard for you to see that the one closest to him was a pretty brunette with a soft smile and big eyes. She talked with him the most and you had no idea who she was. For all you know he could’ve come with her tonight or just met her and really hit it off, you’re not sure, and you’d rather not know.

He barely knew the girl but Yoongi introduced her to him a while before you got to Taehyung’s place. He had been staring at his phone anxiously waiting for a text that never came and the next thing he knew, Yoongi was having him meet Sera. She was pretty and easy to talk to, paid attention to him even when others talked and stood by him wherever he moved to. It was alright, he didn’t mind the extra attention but it wasn’t… that interesting.

Sera said something in his ear that he had to lean down to hear properly but in all honesty he wasn’t listening to begin with. If anything it reminded him of when you whispered in his ear but it didn’t feel the same. His eyes scanned the people that arrived over time, occasionally drifting to the door and stopping once he saw you walk in. You wore a short black dress that accentuated your legs and it was hard for his eyes to remain on your face. Mirae was dressed similarly and you both looked out of place in a good way.

“How do you know Taehyung?” He heard Sera ask and he answered with little eagerness, watching you talk with his friend and head for the drinks.

“We met a few years ago when I first moved to the city,” Jungkook said, looking down at her trying to focus but his mind had gone elsewhere. Turning to Yoongi he said, “I’m gonna go say hi to Y/n.”

Yoongi could try and keep him around but there was no point. Jungkook was walking off before anyone could stop him. He left Sera alone with the others so he can talk to you. Since you last seen each other and had the ‘Almost Kiss’ he had only texted you. You’ve both had a busy week with work and nerves probably kept you apart.

He didn’t like that. He didn’t want to overthink anything. He just wanted to talk to his friend.

“What are we drinking?” He asked with an overly gracious smile, slipping himself between you and the counter so you were forced to look at him.

“Depends, what have you had?” You asked, immediately feeling yourself tense for a second before you realized who it was.

“Nothing too strong just yet,” Jungkook admitted, “I’ve been waiting for you all night.”

He greeted your friend quietly before looking back at you and where you stared off at, “Really? I’ve been here for a while, I figured you would’ve noticed earlier if you’ve been waiting all this time.”

He could sense the small sarcastic tone in your voice but there was nothing strange to it. You usually talked this way with him, always sounding close to flirting or jealous or… interested in him. It was confusing at first but overtime he’s learned to ignore the tone or offer it back. It works for your friendship.

“I might’ve gotten a little distracted,” He couldn’t help but smile, “What time did you get home last night?”

“Early,” You said with a shrug making his brow arch, watching you pour yourself a mix of rum and coke.

“Then why didn’t you text me back?” He asked.

“I did—well, I was going to,” You began to say, feeling yourself on the edge of smiling as you thought up an excuse, “I forgot.”

“Right…” Jungkook rolled his eyes looking over at Mirae instead, “You both look nice, did you just have dinner or something?”

“No, we’re meeting up with some guys in a bit,” Mirae said without much thought and you snapped your eyes to her. She looked up, catching the way Jungkook’s smile dropped a fraction lower and shifted her gaze toward you. Your glare was enough to tell her she shouldn’t have said anything.

“Guys? The one’s from the movie? What are you doing? Going out?” He asked, attempting to sound indifferent. It’s not like he can say anything. He doesn’t know why it doesn’t sit right with him but it didn’t. He didn’t even know the guy but he knew you thought he was cute. Jungkook knew you were talking to him at least a little and that you wore a dress for him tonight.

“Take this,” You offered Jungkook the drink, “And we’re going out for a little bit but I think it’ll be a casual night.”

“Super casual,” Mirae laughed nervously, looking around, “Where’s the bathroom? I’ll be back.”

Before you could follow after her, he stood in front of you.

“So who were you talking to? Have I met her?” You asked, clearing your throat awkwardly. It was an attempt to take some of the heat off of you because this was feeling like an odd interrogation. Anyone passing but might think it’s a lover’s quarrel but it wasn’t.

“I’ve barely met her,” Jungkook said, “It’s Sora… Sua… Sera? Something like that, I don’t know. A friend of Yoongi’s I met the other night.”

“Cool,” You looked back to find her talking with someone else now.

“What about the cute and nice guy you’ve been going on about? You’re seeing him again tonight?” Jungkook asked, taking a sip from the cup and leaning against the kitchen counter. He had a good view of you standing a couple feet away and he had to resist the urge to pull you closer.

“I have not been going on about him, there’s nothing going on,” You told him with an exaggerated sigh, leaning into him absentmindedly and feeling his hand on your side keeping you steady, “I asked Mirae to come with but she had plans with them after and just asked me to tag along.”

“Alright, you don’t have to explain it.” Jungkook said, sounding like he was brushing you off but not meaning to. Obviously he was happy you were here and talking to him but he didn’t want to hear more. It was beginning to sound like you were explaining yourself to him. Making yourself sound better after he asked you about Namjoon. He doesn’t even know why he asked you about that guy, he doesn’t care.

“Alright, I won’t,” you crossed your arms over your chest looking away from him, “Don’t ask me about anyone then.”

Jungkook had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from responding. He didn’t have anything to say because all he wanted was for you to tell him a little more about Namjoon. Why did he act like he didn’t care when he did?

Without bothering to ask anything he was scared to know about, he turned away from you and looked back at the people he was standing with before. You walked off to find Mirae, a little annoyed with Jungkook for reasons you couldn’t understand and needed to get away. Whatever, you almost kissed and considering he hasn't said anything about it it’s clearly not on his mind. If that’s the case why does he act like he cares about who you talk to only to stop you when you explain yourself?

When he joined Yoongi and the others again he acted like he didn’t care that you wandered off away from him. He didn’t seem bothered when you left later that night without saying goodbye and didn’t check his phone once for a text from you.

He can’t explain why but he doesn’t know how to feel about you. For so long now it feels like you’ve just been a close friend to him. You’re someone he calls when he’s bored and thinks of when he finds something funny. You get him like a friend, you don’t expect much either. You’re more like the guys he’s friends with, and you’re not like the girls who’ve tried to get with him. He doesn’t know how to explain it but he likes having you around and the last thing he wants to do is complicate things by catching feelings.

Especially when he doesn’t know how you feel and he’s too nervous to ask. It’d be crossing the line. You’d probably be grossed out if he expresses interest in you. He’s seen how quick you are to stop being friends with a guy who approaches you like a friend but wants to be with you.

He’s already done too much by almost kissing you.

“Y/n, good to see you and don’t you look pretty,” Namjoon said later that night, hugging you in greeting when you met up with him and Jisoo. The club you’d gone to after Taehyung’s was lovely and packed with people everywhere that it was hard to find him in the first place. He brought a surprising smile to your face but you’re not sure how to feel about him just yet.

“Thank you, thank you, dressed up just for you,” You told him playfully, leaning against the bar when Jisoo asked for your drink order. Namjoon was attractive and charming but… there’s something holding you back even if you flirted with him absentmindedly. Was there much weight to your actions? Did you actually care to get to know him better?

“I like it, how’s your night been?” Namjoon attempted small talk. It was what your conversations usually consisted of. Even the first night you met you only talked about the movie and when Jungkook texted you, you talked about your friends too.

He’s told you a little about himself and you’ve told about yourself but not enough. Your mind always seemed off somewhere else.

Time passed by without wondering about Jungkook, using Namjoon as a distraction but it didn’t work for as long as you hoped. When your night had dulled and your friends dared to call it the end, Namjoon looked at you for an invitation to your apartment that you never gave him. You went your separate ways and left on your own.

It was past 3am and you should’ve gone to bed, not gotten on your phone to find someone to talk to.

“Hello?”

“Are you sleeping?” You asked, falling on your bed and sinking into the pillows.

“Was trying to, what’s up?” Jungkook asked with a small yawn that had you debating if you should hang up and let him sleep instead.

“Nevermind, you’re tired I shouldn’t have called,” You began to say, looking around for your phone charger to connect it before you end the call.

He sat up in bed, checking the time and sighing, “But you did, are you still out with your new friends?”

“Jungkook!” You whined, rolling onto your stomach and staring up at your dimly lit ceiling.

“I’m kidding,” He laughed softly, voice a little raspy from being half-asleep but he couldn’t help but press you again, “But are you?”

“I just got home but I’m not tired. I’m bored.” You admitted.

“What should I do about that?” Jungkook smiled, imagining the way you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know…” You bit your lip in thought. You really weren’t tired but that didn’t mean you had to drag Jungkook around.

“Want me to come over?” He finally asked.

“It’s late.”

“I think we both know that.” He rolled his eyes, already getting out of bed so he could throw some clothes on, “Do you?”

“What would we do?” You asked, leaving your bedroom so you could get the front door unlocked for him.

He put his phone on speaker as he slipped on a pair of sweats and threw a hoodie over his head, “I don’t know, we both don’t work tomorrow. Maybe watch a movie?”

“At this hour?” You asked. You could hear Jungkook huff, sitting on the edge of his bed unsure what to do, “You really want to come over?”

“Maybe, you did ditch me tonight—“ Jungkook started, getting cut off by yet another whine.

“No I didn’t! You know what, come over so we can talk,” You told him.

“I’m already getting dressed, chill out.”

It took only around ten minutes for Jungkook to come around and he walked into your apartment with a shake of his head. You must’ve left it unlocked earlier and he didn’t like that. What if someone broke in? He locked the door behind himself, kicking his shoes off by the heels you wore tonight. The only light he could find came from your bedroom and he didn’t hesitate to let himself in.

“What have I told you about leaving your door unlocked?” His words were barely heard over your scream of terror as you walked out of the bathroom dressed in a t-shirt and pajama shorts.

Once the scare wore off you said, “Relax I left it open for you.”

“Sure you did, I bet it was for your new fri—ow!” He groaned dramatically when you hit his arm playfully. He laughed at your annoyance and threw himself on the bed, “I’m kidding. What’d you go do anyway? Did your dress leave him swooning?”

“You’re so annoying,” You sighed jumping down next to him, “Just say you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” A scoff left his lips.

“Sounds like it,” You looked for your remote, “What do you wanna watch?”

“I’m not jealous. If you want to go hang out with another guy then do what you want,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “We’re just friends, anyway.”

You raised a brow in confusion and surprise by his tone with you, “And if I wanted to don’t you think I would be doing that right now?

“I mean you did earlier when you left,” Jungkook said annoyingly.

“Go home if you’re going to argue with me,” You told him, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest with frustration.

“Hell no, I drove over at this hour, I’m sleeping here,” As if to make his point more clear, he made himself comfortable on your bed.

“Not if you’re going to act mean.”

“I’m not!” Jungkook scoffed, leaning up with your pillows, “I’ll stop, whatever, fine. Don’t kick me out, it’s so late. I drove all the way here for you.”

“It’s like a ten minute drive,” You groaned when he pulled on the end of your hoodie, “What?”

“This is mine,” Jungkook looked at the gray apparel, “I don’t remember giving it to you.”

“You didn’t, but you left it in my car,” You tried to pull back but it was no use. Jungkook wasn’t letting you move away.

“So? Doesn’t mean it’s yours. I want it back—“

“I’ll wash it,” You pulled your covers up to hide yourself underneath but there was no point. A smirk appeared on his face, “I want it now though.”

You didn’t say anything as he pulled you closer, falling over him a little. His hand slid down your waist keeping you against him, too close to be appropriate for two friends.

“What are you gonna do? Take it off me?” You dared to ask, making yourself comfortable against his chest. Part of you knew you shouldn’t be laying in bed like this with your friend.

“Should I?” He asked in a low whisper, fingers slipping up your back just under the hoodie where he could feel your bare skin. You didn’t wear anything underneath and it made him want to explore more.

You didn’t say anything or bother to push his hand away. You kind of liked his touch, it was gentle but his fingers were rough from all the time he spends at the gym. Your body lay on his, leg nearly hooked around his waist and looking down at him with curiosity.

Jungkook could make out small fragments of makeup you couldn’t get all the way off. There was still a small outline of lip gloss and your lashes were dark and long. Your cheeks still had a hint of blush but even in this state you were pretty. He can’t get the image of you in that dress earlier out of his mind.

You were oddly close to him and found yourself in the same predicament as last time. Your lips only centimeters apart from his and a need to close that space. Jungkook parted his lips in a breath, catching the way you looked at him and his hand had slowed down its caress until it was tracing a soft line against your spine.

He felt the shift of your upper body when you tried to lean up, almost closing the space but hesitant still.

You wanted to kiss him. He can tell and he wanted to kiss you just as bad. This time around there were no interruptions so what was stopping him from leaning into you too?

“How much did you drink tonight?” Jungkook found himself asking before he could stop himself. It wasn’t the right time to ask but he wanted to know if this was just something that happened when you were drunk or could it happen sober too?

“I don’t know, I stopped drinking like a while before I got home,” You leaned back, brows furrowed together, “Why? You drank tonight too?”

“I went home a little after you left,” he admitted. It was around midnight when you left Taehyung’s to go with Mirae and those guys. He’d barely managed to survive at the party much long after that and called it an early night. You’d been out longer than he had.

“Okay…” You pushed off of him, feeling his arm loosen around you, “That was kind of random.”

Jungkook knew he should have stayed quiet. He should’ve just kissed you and see where things could’ve gone but he had to ruin it. He had to ask you something that was eating at him.

All he’s been able to think about lately is possibly kissing you and this time around he ruined it all on his own.

“Y/n,” He poked your side to get your attention but you had your back to him, turned on your side and tuned him out.

You felt stupid for even attempting to kiss him. He pushed you away after what felt like him flirting with you and it was embarrassing. He just sees you as a friend so you have to stop doing this.

With a huff of frustration, he stretched himself out on his side of your bed and stared at the night landscape on your flatscreen. In a few short moments it’d go into sleep mode on its own and the room would go pitch black.

You must’ve been tired, worked up or even a little buzzed still but you fell asleep long before he did. You’d been so tired you didn’t notice when your cell phone fell onto the bed in the space between you and just as he felt himself close to sleep, the screen lit up the room.

Jungkook planned on ignoring it, not caring who might’ve texted but something in him told him to look. Plus, you’d be mad if you woke up in the morning and your phone wasn’t charging. He picked it up, eyes squinting at the bright light and read the notification.

namjoon: did u make it home safe ????

Here he was sleeping in your bed while another guy texted you. How dumb is he?

You flirt with him but you don’t want him, simple as that and he doesn’t know if he could take it anymore. After some contemplation, he carefully got out of your bed and rounded to your side. He found your charger and connected your phone before he left your bedroom quietly and went home before you could wake up.

✮

Your office felt oddly cold that following Monday. You spent Sunday holed up in your bedroom trying to figure out what happened over the weekend and you’ve somewhat come to terms with it when you texted Jungkook and he chose not to respond.

You weren’t in the mood to work but there was nothing you could do about it. The clients you were supposed to meet with postponed the lunch meeting to later in the day so really, you could go home for a while but you also didn’t want to. It would make you think about how you almost kissed Jungkook and how he pushed you away and left in the middle of the night like you were some one night stand or something.

“I’m not going out anymore,” You told Jimin as you walked into his office, “I make poor decisions when I’m under the influence and I’m done.”

“Why? I thought you went out with Mirae,” Jimin said swiveling his chair out from under his desk top, “Which by the way, fuck you both for no invite.”

“It was last minute,” You told him, leaning against a shelf, “And I regret it.”

“Why?”

“Stop asking me questions, I can’t explain it,” You whined, covering your ears dramatically which only made your friend roll his eyes.

“You storm into my office complaining and I’m not allowed to ask questions? What happened to a positive work environment?” Jimin asked with a scoff.

“It’s hard to explain, it was great when I was with Mirae and Namjoon and Jisoo but…” You bit your lip nervously.

“But what?” Jimin waited. He knew how your night went because Mirae filled him in on everything. He had known you went to Jungkook’s friend’s place to pregame and if it wasn’t the group you were with that left you stressed it had to be Jungkook. You think you’re so secretive about the trials and tribulations of your ‘friendship’ with him.

“Nothing,” you sighed out, checking your phone. Maybe you just needed to give it a few days for the embarrassment to go away and you’ll be fine again.

Jimin looked at you expectantly, deciding to take a different route for his questions, “So how was it with Namjoon? Mirae is all Heart Eyes for Jisoo.”

“Huh? Oh, no it’s nothing like that,” You told him honestly, “We talked yesterday and I don’t know, I think it’s obvious we’re good as friends right now.”

“So no feelings at all?” Jimin asked, watching you shake your head, so he kept pushing, “Really? Have you actually thought about it though? I thought he’d be someone who’s your type or something.”

You stayed quiet, not bothering to hear him out as you let your mind run rampant. Namjoon is attractive but he’s just a friend and he knows that. If you were not emotionally available you might have given him a better chance but right now you know you feel something for Jungkook. It’s stupid considering he clearly doesn’t want you but it would be unfair to Namjoon if you used him to get over the other.

✮

It took over a week for Jungkook to get the courage to talk about you. He wanted you, he wanted you so bad but there was something holding him back. He’s mad that you’re possibly interested in someone else and he’s pissed that he ruined your chance at kissing. He’s annoyed with himself for many reasons and the only thing he thought to do was distance himself from you.

There’s no point in asking to hang out all the time if you’ve got someone you’re interested in, you'd probably rather spend time with.

Throughout the week he found himself joining his other friends and whatever they did instead of seeking you out like usual. If they thought it strange no one had the nerve to question it. It was obvious there was something going on between you and considering Jungkook’s been on edge nobody wanted to push him to know more.

On Tuesday he met up with Yoongi for dinner and surprisingly enough some other people showed up—Sera (the girl from the party) being one of them. She talked to him the most like last time and it was clear she was very interested in him. He was flattered but that was it. He was too stuck on you even when you weren’t talking.

By the time the weekend rolled back around, Jungkook let himself be dragged to another night out. Yoongi and some of his other friends got him out for a couple drinks at a few bars. He didn’t mind it, but it was weird when Sera and others showed up. It felt oddly like a set-up and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“So you don’t think she’s hot?” Hoseok asked as he waited at the bar with Jungkook for the round of drinks he’d just ordered. Jungkook looked back at the group finding Sera looking at him but he just looked away.

“She’s… she’s alright,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know, not really my type though.”

“Why? Because she’s not Y/n?” Hoseok asked with a scoff that made Jungkook roll his eyes. Out of everyone Hoseok was always the main one to point out his relationship with you. It all started when Hoseok made a comment months ago about how he thought you were hot and Jungkook was a little too quick to shut it down. It was weird for him to think of two of his friends going out or talking and Hoseok took that as a sign that Jungkook wanted you… which wasn’t true.

Anyway, the point is, Hoseok always brings you up around him and tonight was no different.

“Where is she anyway? I feel like I haven’t seen her around in a while,” Taehyung said, appearing out of nowhere holding a drink of his own.

“You saw her last weekend,” Jungkook told him.

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen her with you,” Taehyung clarified but Jungkook didn’t seem to care anymore. Hoseok nudged Jungkook and with a drink, “Let’s go talk with Sera and maybe you can introduce me to her friend.”

Taehyung let the other two leave and without thinking he grabbed his cell phone and dialed your number.

You were hanging out at Jimin’s place after finishing some work with him and Mirae when Taehyung called, “Hello.”

“Hey Y/n, where are you? What are you doing?” Taehyung asked looking back at Jungkook who looked tortured to be sandwiched between Sera and Hoseok.

“At a friend’s place, what’s up?” You asked looking between your friends who looked back at you with curiosity.

“Come to JJ’s Bar, we’re all here,” Taehyung kept it simple. In all honesty, he genuinely likes having you around. You’re funny and like Jungkook in a way. When Jungkook brought you around it was surprisingly easy to befriend you and you’re someone he likes seeing. He thinks you and Jungkook should get together some day—if you haven’t already. He doesn’t understand why it hasn’t happened yet when you both clearly want to and okay, he might’ve cut in on that first night but he swears he was drunk. He didn’t mean to and since then you’ve been distant from each other.

He’s been trying to invite you since Jungkook wants to be too stubborn to admit he wants you around.

“Who’s we? Yoongi? Jungkook?” You asked, beginning to gnaw on your bottom lip, “Let me think about it.”

When you hung up, Jimin was the first to speak, “I can drive you.”

“I don’t know… I haven’t really been talking to Jungkook this weekend,” You admitted to making Mirae roll her eyes.

“We know, but it’s obvious you want to. You’ve been depressed all week,” She said, trying to convince you to be honest about your feelings. Neither one of you wants to admit what’s going on between you so you just keep going around it. You’ve been off for a couple weeks now and everyone can see it but you two.

At the bar Jungkook was bored. He wasn’t in the mood to drink or be out with everyone but he dragged himself along because he had nothing better to do. He wasn’t going to stay home staring at his phone or getting FOMO because he missed his friends. He doesn’t want to be here but he doesn’t want to be home.

Frankly, Jungkook knows where and with who he wants to be but he’s too stupid to pick up his phone and call you.

“Jungkook, be honest, are you seeing anyone?” Sera finally asked as she noticed him stare at his phone screen. The bar was dark with colorful lights here and there, packed with people and he was more interested on his phone. She’s done everything she can to get him to notice her but it feels like she keeps falling shorts. He talks to her, close to flirting but never all the way, yet she can’t tell how he feels. Well, no, she can tell he’s thinking about something else but everyone tells her he’s single. She remembers seeing you at Taehyung’s last weekend, it was the most interested he looked in anything but the two of aren’t… dating [?] so what was his deal?

“What?” He turned with surprise written on his face. Sera was blunt and it caught him off guard.

“Well, I think you’re hot and I want to get to know you but I don’t know where your head is at,” Sera said loudly over the music. He was flattered but…

“You actually came!” Taehyung greeted you warmly, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug as you found him and the others. You hugged him back and looked at everyone, not remembering him mentioning any of the other women here—or the one Jungkook was talking to.

“Y/n,” Yoongi said hello, “Do you want a drink?”

“Um…”

“I uh,” Jungkook blinked in disbelief as he looked at you just a few feet away from him. He didn’t know you’d be here, how? “It’s complicated.”

He tried to sit there and focus on Sera but it was hard. He didn’t want to just ditch the girl out of the blue but you haven’t spared him a single glance. It’s like you’re here for his friends but not for him and he didn’t like that. You’re supposed to be his friend not theirs.

You stood back, nervous to greet him. You barely know the girl but what if it’s someone he’s interested in? What if you’re just supposed to be someone he calls when he’s bored and flirts with when no one’s around? What if you’ve read too much into it and let your feelings get involved? You debated approaching him or not especially considering how he left you alone in bed after pushing you away from a kiss. Was it a mistake coming here? What’d you even hope could happen?

“Jungkook,” You waved, hoping you didn’t sound too nervous or bothered while also not sounding too enthusiastic in case that was a girl he was after. You just needed to sound friendly. That’s it.

Sera looked between you with peaked curiosity. She’d notice his attention had left her a while ago but now she sees why. Jungkook didn’t bother looking back at her as he stood up, making his way over to where you stood.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” He said shifting his eyes around, “Who invited you?”

“I can’t hang around your friends anymore?” You asked bluntly, “What do you mean who invited me?”

“I just… I didn’t kno—should we get a drink?” His voice shook with anxiety as his hand slipped down your back to lead you to the bar. He wasn’t doing anything wrong talking to Sera but for some reason he didn’t want the two of you around each other—especially after she just told him she was interested.

“I’ll probably leave, I don’t want to be somewhere I’m not wanted,” You said bitterly, trying to step away from him but he didn’t let you get far from his arms.

“I want you here, of course I do. I just wanted to know who texted you,” Jungkook told you looking at his friends and the only one that was smiling, “Taehyung?”

“Yeah, he asked me to come but if it’s going to be a problem I’ll just leave,” You kept saying.

“Why would it be a problem? I’ve been meaning to text you but—yknow, um,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, leading you away from the group. It’s not that he didn’t want you around them but he was only comfortable with you right now. He didn’t need everyone hearing him.

“Alright, you don’t have to explain it,” You brushed him off, turning to the bar and debating if you wanted a drink or not. You weren’t in the mood to but now that you’ve seen Jungkook with another girl, you might.

“Kook, Y/n, want a shot?” Taehyung asked, trying to get you both to go back with everyone.

“I’m driving,” Jungkook said. He had a small sip earlier but he’s not here to drink all night then get stuck Ubering--especially not now that you’re here. What if you go home with him [he means take you home].

“Y/n?” He turned to you only and you contemplated. Jungkook bit his lip in thought, tempted to say no on your behalf but he wanted to know what you’d do. Taehyung invited you tonight and last weekend too, why? He’s happy you’re here but why is Taehyung the one making a move?

“I’m good, I’ll get something else,” You lied, turning away from the group. Part of you wanted to leave then and there but Jimin dropped you off and you’d need to call him back.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate to follow you to the bar but you didn’t try and order anything. He even asked if you wanted something but you didn’t, “Jungkook just be honest, should I leave? I know you said you want me here but I don’t know… if you wanna hang out with your friends or, yknow, other girls I don’t want them to get the wrong idea. I just came because I wanted to talk but… I don’t know.”

“Is it because of Sera? Y/n, I don’t like her or anything. I want you here, I’m sorry for not inviting you,” Jungkook tried to reassure you but you weren’t really listening.

“This isn’t about her, it’s you. You’re the one being confusing, Kook,” You admitted.

“Me?” He looked genuinely taken back, “How?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as a shield between you knowing he’d try and pull you closer like he usually did. You weren’t the type to argue with someone in public but you were a little annoyed.

“Are we friends? Because if we are don’t try and kiss me then ignore me for days and go out with someone else—“

“Are you serious right now?” He asked, “That’s what you’re mad about? You’ve been doing that to me for the past few weeks with your friend Namjoon.”

“What? That’s not true, I’ve told you every time I was gonna hang out with him. You only call me when you think I’m with someone else,” You told him bitterly.

“You don’t honestly believe that. I call you more than you bother reaching out to me. You only call me when you need a ride or you’re drunk and bored,” Jungkook said, standing a foot away from you so you could hear him better, “You flirt with me and I think there’s something there but then you brush me off or go with someone else. I’ve been trying to make things more clear but you make it so hard.”

“I make it hard?“ Your jaw nearly dropped, “Alright this is stupid. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

He knows what you’re doing and he doesn’t want to play along. Any time the two of you talk about something a little too complicated you start to backtrack in order to avoid it. No, if you wanted him to be honest you had to let him. After the first night you almost kissed, you didn’t message him for a couple days. He’s the one who reach out to you. This time around he’s the one that left because Namjoon was on your phone and he didn’t know what to make of it. He should’ve asked if anything was serious between the two of you but he was too cowardly to do it and left instead. Maybe you were mad he didn’t reach out but why didn’t you try? Yes, you came here hopefully looking for him but the second you see him talking to someone else and confront him about it suddenly you’re shutting down?

Who’s leading who on?

Yoongi saw most of your interaction from across the bar. You weren’t full on arguing but it’s obvious the two of you had things you wanted to say but didn’t know how. After a while he didn’t want to just sit back and ignore it. He at least wanted to know if you were both alright.

When he made his way over he tried asking you again if you wanted a drink or if Jungkook wanted to join him outside. You took that as a sign to make an escape for a moment and rushed to say, “I’m going to the restroom.”

Jungkook was stuck between following and waiting for you or going with Yoongi but his hand trembled with nerves and he needed fresh air. His friend offered him a smoke and he took it reluctantly knowing you’d hate the smell of it on him. Even when he’s sort of upset with you he can’t make himself do something you don’t like.

“What are you guys fighting about?” Yoongi asked taking the cigarette Jungkook rejected and lit one for himself.

“It’s stupid,” Jungkook mumbled under his breath.

“Clearly not when you look worked up,” Yoongi said, “Tell me.”

“There’s been a couple times that we almost kissed and I thought she was talking to someone else but now she’s acting upset with me and I don’t know why. I’m not doing anything, the other night we almost kissed again but I couldn’t bring myself to do it and then the guy texts her. I didn’t know Taehyung asked her to come and now she thinks I don’t want her here and probably thinks I’m into Sera but I’m not,” Jungkook began to let it all out, hands running through his hair nervously.

Yoongi couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face over the fact that you guys had never kissed before. It was sort of a running joke between all of them that you’re both secretly hooking up but it appears not to be the case. You both had been good friends until then and all the bottled up emotions are finally begging to be let out. It made him chuckle over how dumb it was.

“Did you bother to ask her about him? Actually ask and not make assumptions like you always do?” Yoongi asked, “Because honestly, I think you’re both into each other and don’t know what to do about it.”

“You don’t get it hyung, I can’t just ask Y/n that…” Jungkook groaned with frustration, “I’m being so pathetic, aren’t I?”

“A little. You pay for a parking spot specifically for Y/n and she’s not even your girlfriend. You want her to be so just talk it out.”

“I’m gonna talk to her,” Jungkook bit his lip, watching Yoongi finish up and ask him if we was ready to go back in. When he did, you were standing there talking to Sera and he wasn’t sure what it could be about.

Honestly, it was nothing to worry about. She saw you looking clueless after your restroom break and introduced herself as one of Yoongi’s friends. Although you wanted to ask her about Jungkook she didn’t even bring him up. When he went up to you both but placed a dominant hand around your waist.

It answered what Sera already knew, that he was claimed for even if neither of you said it. His heart was with you.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked suddenly, “For the other night?”

“No, I’m confused,” You let him turn you in his arms so that you faced him, “I thought you wanted to kiss but then you stop it and when I wake up you’re gone. It’s fine if you just want to be friends but don’t lead me on like that.”

For a moment he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t think you’d say it so bluntly but you did. You’ve been thinking about those Almost Kisses you’ve shared just as much as he has. He just didn’t expect you to be thinking he was leading you on. He thought you were leading him on.

“I’m not… Can we go and talk somewhere?” He asked, trying to take your hand in his but you rejected his advance. Once again you probably looked like a couple arguing and it was so stupid.

“I just wanna go,” You told him and to keep you from leaving he pushed his keys into your hands.

“Let’s go then,” He said. You looked at him with a small smile, feeling somewhat upset with him but also unsure what to do. Part of you wanted to leave on your own but you also wanted to hear him out.

You pushed them back into his hand with a sigh, “No, you’re here with your friends, I shouldn’t have even bothered.”

“Y/n, I don’t care I wanna leave with you, let’s go,” He turned to his friends, not bothering to get closer as he began to wave, “I’m gonna call it a night guys, Y/n’s taking me home.”

“Kook,” You couldn’t help but whine. He just smiled, leading you out the club and you learned he wasn’t kidding. He really was making you take him home in his own car, hoping it’d keep you from parting ways with him tonight.

“I didn’t know it seemed like I was leading you on,” Jungkook said, almost sounding bitter at the thought of it. He slumped back in the passenger’s seat staring out at the dark city lights trying to process what you time him not too long ago.

You didn’t say anything and that made him turn to you, “You’re the one that’d ditch me for that Namjoon guy.”

“I didn’t ditch you, every single time you asked me about him and I tried telling you how it was, you’d stop me,” You reminded him, thinking back to every time he’d bring up someone else and ignore every time you told him it wasn’t anything serious, “And how was I not supposed to think you were leading me on? One second you act like you want to kiss and the next you’re pushing me away.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong about how I acted but it was because I was jealous. You knew I was jealous I just kept acting like I wasn’t and look at where we are now. You’re mad at me,” Jungkook shook his head, “And I want to kiss you. I think about kissing you all the time and that night—those nights… I regret not doing it but sometimes I can’t read you.”

“I never know where your head’s at. One second you’re in my arms and I think there’s something between us but then you… I don’t know, I feel like you know I’ll always be around,” He admitted, looking out his window to avoid your sudden stare.

The rest of the ride was silent and though Jungkook could tell there was a lot on your mind you weren’t saying any of it. He feels more assured now knowing that you felt the same way he did but it’s like going in circles talking about this. He just wants to get you in his arms and act like you both haven’t made it more complicated than it needs to be.

When you parked his car in the lot of his apartment, you turned the engine off and turned to face him, confused on what to do now. Do you sleep over or get yourself a ride home? Jungkook had pushed his seat back to get more comfortable but now it felt like you were farther from him than he liked. You looked back to find him already staring at you. His eyes fell to the way you nervously licked your lips and he couldn’t take it anymore.

The sound of his belt unbuckling caught you off guard you almost missed how he leant forward so suddenly you nearly pulled back. His lips collided with yours with such need that you met with equal eagerness. He slipped his hand down your hair toward your neckline keeping you from pulling back. Jungkook doesn’t know how to describe the kiss.

It was good, better than he imagined but was it the kiss or just you? Was it the fact that was finally getting a taste of you? You leaned forward, bumping into the middle console to kiss him a little harder, tongues meeting in a wet, tender way that had you gasping lightly. If this was what was on your mind for so long, you now knew why. Kissing him felt good, felt different and you didn’t want to stop.

“Inside,” He tried to say between kisses but he found it hard to pull away. The word just came out in an airy whisper, struggling to find sound.

He pulled back with a small groan, hand in your hair and forehead pressed against yours as he tried to catch his breath, “Let’s go inside, please?”

Your small nod was enough for him to storm out of the car, rounding to your side and helping you out of the car, leading you up. Up the stairs he stopped every now and then to plant a small kiss on your shoulder or neck, arms around your waist.

“Don’t like when you’re mad at me,” Jungkook said, unlocking his door and taking you in, “And I was jealous about Namjoon, so stupidly jealous because he texted you and I saw it on your phone an—“

“There’s nothing going on between us,” You assured him, “And I was never mad at you. I thought you didn’t want me—“

“Crazy, you’re crazy to think that,” Jungkook cupped your face in his hands, “You’re the only one I want and I’m sorry I didn’t make it more clear.”

You smiled, arms around his neck as he hoisted you up so he could kiss you better and walk toward his living room, “Me too.”

He carried you to the couch, taking a seat and pulling you onto his lap with ease. You didn’t hesitate to make yourself comfortable, leaning down to kiss him as his hands moved up your waist. He let you take the lead for a little bit, head tilted to the side when you kissed near his ear making a small smile appear on his face. His ears were sensitive and everyone knew that. Whenever you tried whispering something in his ear, he’d practically have to shove you away or it’d make goosebumps form on his skin. Now you’re kissing up his ear lobe and he was sinking into the couch pulling you with him.

A light frown left his lips when he felt you nip at his lobe with your teeth and his head fell forward, nearly bumping your shoulder making him tug on your neckline to kiss your exposed collarbone. You lifted his chin with a light finger touch and met him with a kiss. His hands slipped under your top, feeling along your smile like he’s done before. He likes to feel how warm you are under his fingertips, like to feel your natural curves. You liked the way his rough hands felt against your sides when he ran his hands up, nearly touching your chest before tracing them back down.

Jungkook couldn’t hide his growing erection when you pressed down against his lap. It didn’t help that you were licking along his bottom lip tugging on it with your teeth until you were tongue kissing. He sat straighter, hands itching to rip your top off. He’s seen you in sultry outfits that made his head turn everytime and he’s interested to see what was under.

“Kook,” You sighed softly, pulling away from the sloppy kiss to catch your breath. Your lips felt number and swollen and his did too. He was so damn kissable and you can’t believe you haven’t done this yet. What were you so worried about all this time? He looked at you with these spark in his eyes and lip between his teeth, hands around your waist and bulge pressed against you. You looked down at his lap, shifting back a little before grinding forward again. A deep groan caught in his throat when you did it and he looked at you hopefully.

“You’re so hot,” Your hands ran along his lean shoulders down toward the bottom of his shirts and helped you yank it off of him without a second thought. You’ve seen him shirtless countless of times, in person and on the phone. You’ve felt his body when he’s rolled over in his sleep to cuddle and it doesn’t ever leave your mind how attractive your friend is. You remember when he first started getting his tattoos done and when he first started boxing. He got so much stronger and his tattoos just got so much hotter.

You leaned forward, kissing softly against his neck, hands feeling up his abs and hip bucking into him. His hands guided your hips against him, hard dick feeling constricted in his jeans and when you kissed near his pecs he released a light moan.

“Stop, you’re going to drive me insane if you don’t,” He groaned, hands pulling on your top.

“You want me stop?” You asked, grinding down on him. You were starting to feel needy and aroused. If he wanted you to stop, maybe you should before you take it too far.

“No,” Jungkook finally yanked your top off you, catching your lips with his, tongue searching the inside of your mouth, “Don’t want you to.”

His hands wandered south, inching up the small fitted skirt you wore tonight. Last time he saw you in something revealing was when you’d gone off to see Namjoon wearing a dress. He remembered eyeing you closely wishing you weren’t leaving and wondering if you’d dressed up for someone else. Now you’re grinding down on him with your skirt bunch around your hips, bucking into him with a thin pair of panties on and it drove him insane. His jeans were in the way of letting him feel your head against him and he couldn’t take it. A small squeal left your lips when he swiftly turned you to lie on the couch, trapped underneath him with your legs around his waist.

Jungkook kept his hardened dick in his pants, pressed between your spread legs as he kissed down your neck, leaving love bites behind while his hands began to trace your sides. You breathed heavily in anticipation when he tugged your bra down exposing your breasts over the cups and he didn’t hesitate to keep going. His touch was eager as he licked between them, cupping your right boob with his hand while kissing the other. He sucked your hardened nipple into his, humping his erection against your clit. You released a small moan when he ran his tongue around your bud, lost in himself Jungkook groaned when you pulled on his hair softly.

You snuck a hand between your bodies and reached for his belt. The jeans felt rough against your wet panties but it also felt good to have something to bump into. In all honesty, you liked grinding against him but you need more.

Now.

Jungkook lifted his body up slightly, not bothering to break away from worshiping you in kisses and helped you unbuckle his belt.

“You want it?” Jungkook asked in a husky whisper, throat sore and lust in his eyes. You nodded your head watching him sit back on his haunches, using his skilled fingers to undo it the rest of the way and tug the zipper down. He kicked them off without much or a care for the things on his coffee table and with his other hand, he held your hips, “Say it.”

A soft whine left your lips as you got the hint and turned onto your stomach, your head so close to the armrest of the couch and knees digging into the cushion below you. You’ve been in this living room a hundred times but never thought you’d be in this position. He pulled your panties down with ease, not bothering with the skirt as he pulled it up so it was around your waist and gave him a perfect view of what you looked like bent over. He couldn’t help but place a hand on the round of your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

Jungkook was pathetically desperate for you and couldn’t find it in himself to pull away enough to pull his briefs all the way down. Instead, he lowered them enough for his hard cock to spring free. You hadn’t said anything yet, seemingly stuck in a lust filled daze, arms using the side of the couch for support. He could see the slick lining your pretty cunt and he needed to be closer. He lined his member up with your files, grinding against you and feeling your wetness coat his member in arousal.

You released a moan, arching your back into the couch and ass back on him, “I want it.”

His cock twitched with need when you said it in your usual whiny tone. The tone you use when you call him late at night because you’re bored or annoyed with him. Jungkook nodded his head even though you couldn’t see him, he used a hand on your hips and the other in his length to catch the small hook of your entrance. You were so unbelievably wet that his dick was covered, it made guiding the tip of his cock against your wet pussy better.

“You’re so wet, baby, fuck,” Jungkook groaned, palming your ass as you waited so prettily for him to just fuck you already.

He can tell you were getting impatient by the way you shook your hips side to side and he couldn’t help but smile. Feeling warmth burst through his chest he leant over your body, resting his arm next to yours and kissed your neck. Without another word, he pressed his face against your hair and thrusted forward. With just the first thrust, you felt the stretch of your walls around his girth. It hurt for only a few seconds as you took him in and you lifted your head, stopped by how Jungkook hugged you from behind.

“Oh,” You gasped turning your head to look at him and he caught your open lips with a tongue kiss that made you relax against him. It took him a moment before he pushed the rest of his length into your tight pussy with a grunt.

Once he felt you relax, he tried to sit back, thrusting into you with care trying to adjust. You pushed back against his length, meeting his thrusts until you caught a steady rhythm and Jungkook’s fingers dug into your hips, watching the way you looked as he fucked you from behind in his living room. You felt so good to him. Your walls tightened around him deliciously making his head tip back losing himself to the feeling. “Right there.”

At this angle with your back down and ass up, his dick felt your innermost walls clench, he felt the curve of your pelvis and your butt felt soft.

“Fuck,” your head fell against the arm rest trying to keep up with your pace but he was bigger than you ever could’ve thought of. You’ve felt a hint of it before but to have him inside you making your body shiver with need it was hard to focus on your movements. Jungkook could feel you slow down as you felt the pleasure build up inside you. It brought him back to attention and with more assertive energy, he placed a hand on your ass and the other on your lower back, making sure you stayed in position so he could fuck you.

Your jaw dropped when his strokes changed making him reach deeper inside you. This position always made you feel dirty in a good way and left you a moaning mess, letting him slam his hips into you. Swear beaded his forehead, fucking you chasing his and your pleasure.

“So good, so fucking good,” He groaned, arm circling around your waist and lowering more of his hips into you. The tip of his cock hit that good spot deep inside that made you want to clench your eyes shut.

“Koo,” You tried to get out more of his name but it was harder to hold yourself together, fucking back onto his dick with eagerness, needy whimpers leaving your lips. You pushed against the armrest trying to stand up a little, itching to be closer to him.

You didn’t even need to tell him anything, he pulled your back against his chest until your were nearly sitting back on his dick, grinding against him, taking every inch he gave you. He placed a hand on your navel, keeping you flush to his body, dropping needy kisses on your neck knowing it’d leave love bites in their wake.

Your orgasm began to build up inside you, so close to popping and it made you a little more pliant to take whatever he gave you. You fucked yourself back onto him while his other hand groped your tits, listening to his whispers of need in your ear telling you how good you’re taking it.

“Just like that, cum for me,” Jungkook said with a deep rasp to his usual delicate tone. It’s like he wanted to walk you through it and fuck, it was working.

The moment your cunt clamped down around his dick leaving him to hiss through gritted teeth, he knew you were going to cum. He let you fuck yourself to release, whining in his arms and legs shaking as he held you up.

He slowed his hips, keeping himself to the hilt inside you feeling the way your orgasm made your body tremble for him. Your pussy was dripping around his length and he was tracing soothing lines against your spine as you fell back to the couch trying to catch your breath, “Good girl.”

His words had a clear effect on you still as your pussy twitched, making him smile. He never took you as the type to like pet names but he knew you liked to be praised. Well, he knew you hated being scolded but usually you listened to him when he did. Now he knows praising you feels a lot better.

Jungkook sucked in a tight breath as he began to pull out his aching member, worried you’d be feel uncomfortable right now. The need to cum was so heavily set into his body but he wasn’t stupid. He knew he wasn’t wearing any protection and though there’s a chance you’re taking anything, he wasn’t going to risk losing himself inside you. A little whine left your lips as he slipped out and you couldn’t help but look back at him with furrowed brows.

“You good?” He asked with concern, caressing your side lovingly. You didn’t say anything, turning to sit up and wrap your arms around him. He groaned when you rubbed against his cock on accident and you looked down at it immediately.

He caught your stare and smiled, “Can we finish this somewhere else? The couch is a little too small…”

You laughed, “There’s more?”

You were teasing him and you both knew it which only made him roll his eyes playfully. With a swift move, he lifted you up, carrying you to the bathroom catching you by surprise, “You didn’t think we were done yet did you? What about me?”

✮

A MONTH LATER

“You guys are so bad at hiding it,” Mirae said as she sat in the packed booth of your friends, all watching you hold hands under the table. You looked at her with feigned innocence, shoving Junhkook’s hand off your thigh.

“Hiding what?” You asked, looking at everyone around. Taehyung sat on one end, Yoongi next to him, Jimin there and Mirae too. They all looked equally unimpressed but your act but it was somewhat funny.

Jungkook tried to hide a grin but he was so bad at it. He smiled at you warmly, “Told you.”

“It’s your fault, I bet we could’ve hid it a little longer if you didn’t smile,” You tried to say but even you didn’t believe yourself. Jungkook didn’t even bother to look guilty as he broke out in a laugh. Yoongi chuckled, looking at the way Jungkook’s cheeks flushed red when you looked at him a little too long.

“I knew the second Y/n stopped coming to work all moody because she wasn’t talking to Jungkook,” Jimin pointed out and Mirae agreed quickly.

Hoseok sighed, “I knew when Jungkook stopped giving me killer workouts at the gym. I almost broke my shoulder.”

“Whoa, I’m a great personal trainer,” Jungkook put a hand to his chest, “Don’t come at my profession.”

“I’m not, I’m pointing out the fact that you were always moodier when you didn’t see Y/n,” Hoseok argued.

Jungkook couldn’t even deny it so he didn’t try. Instead he place his hand back down on your thigh and leaned into you to share the dinner menu, “Are you gonna try something new? You’re picky.”

“I might want to expand my horizons,” You looked over everything with a concentrated expression.

He raised an amused brow at you, surprised when the server came around and you actually did try something new. He let the others go before him and when it came to being his turn, he ordered your usual.

“Are you switching it up too?” The server asked, all too familiar with the two of you and your eating preferences.

“It’s in case she doesn’t like it,” He admitted with a sly wink in your direction. You hit his arm playfully and turned toward your friends who glared at you grossly.

“I’m losing my appetite,” Jimin teased, looking at Mirae as she texted away on her phone, “You?”

“Kinda, I don’t know, Jisoo just asked what I’m doing,” Mirae said.

Jungkook looked up with slight interest. He tried not to be the jealous type but… Jisoo is friends with Namjoon. He’s met the guy now and he’s not that bad but he’s also way taller than him with a bulkier physique.

“What is he doing? Tell him and his friends join us,” Jungkook said suddenly making her furrow her brows at him.

“He wants to see Namjoon again, I think he’s got a little crush on him,” You told her, making him shrug.

“The guy is built,” he said, “I just wanna know what pre-workout he takes.”

“And to think you spent all this time not liking him because you didn’t like Y/n talking to him,” Taehyung said, feeling the need to bring up the awkward part. You glared at him but he only smiled mischievously.

“Hey, let’s move on from that,” You said leaning against Jungkook who pulled you closer, “We’re all just friends.”

“Except you two, so can you just say you’re dating already and we can go on with the usual?” Yoongi asked impatiently.

“I thought you said we were bad at hiding it,” your boyfriend sat up, pulling you into his arms giving you a tight hug and looked at his friends, “But fine, this is my best friend and girlfriend.”

“Whoa, I thought I was your best friend now. Y/n can’t have both titles,” Taehyung scoffed, sitting up, “I practically brought you two together. I mean yeah I was fucked up that first night but once I caught on I was the one always inviting Y/n over.”

“I’m the one who told Jungkook to get his head out of the gutters and talk to Y/n,” Yoongi said with a raised finger to state a point.

“Not to join in on the fight but… I also tried getting Y/n to talk about Jungkook and drove her to JJ’s the other night,” Jimin leaned forward to say and suddenly they were all arguing over who brought the two of you together.

It was stupid but friendly and it made you laugh with amusement.

“I’m not the jealous type, right?” Jungkook asked you as he thought about what Taehyung said earlier instead of their current banter, “I didn’t care that you talked to Namjoon… I just, y'know I didn’t want you to like him, there’s a difference.”

His face looked confused in a surprisingly cute way for your motorcycle riding, tattoo covered boyfriend and it made you smile. “Of course you’re not the jealous type.”

Jungkook smiled back warmly, leaning into you for a quick kiss.

When your food arrived you regretted ordering it just like he knew you would and he switched you plates like he knew he would. Aside from the obvious displays of affection nothing else changed for the two of you. Or at least you don’t think it did.

He still came over whenever he felt like it and you bothered him at any hour of the day. When he wasn’t sleeping in your bed trying to keep you from going to work he was checking his phone for a text from you throughout the day.

You’re not sure if it’s because he was your friend first but your relationship with Jungkook was a perfect mix of love and affection with ease and playfulness.

Your best friend was the one for you and he’d been right in front of you the whole time.

::.

NO PART TWO

two fics in two months??? who do I think I am 😜

honestly I kinda liked this friendly little vibe. I wanted more angst but idkkk. they kinda gave toxic but not like super hide red flag toxic. they’re in their twenties yall 😭

I’m preparing for this angsty yandere fic for Taehyung so I wanted to something a little softer, slice of life vibe

anyways like always, love feedback so tell me what you think!

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @saweetspoiled @babycandy111 @jeonninja @skzthinker @beautywine @lilliankoo @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @annabtsangels @hyunjinswifeee @bangtans-momma @butterymin @kaiparkerwifes @junggukjeonfreakinwife @ily4jknity @ryuzakiswife-blog @futuristicenemychaos @honeybunnykoo @aindrila @cherrymoonlight t @parkinglot-nights @llallaaa @crooked-haven @butterflykpoplover @sakuragongju @ackward-maknae @investedreader @junggukjeonfreakinwife [also if you’ve tried joining masterlist but haven’t been added it’s bc I’m only allowed to tag 50 people! I usually try and warn when I’m going to post so I recommend turning on my post notifs when you know a fic is coming sorry 😭]

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook bts #bts jungkook #jungkook one shot #jungkook oneshot #bts imagines #bts jungguk #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook f2l #jungkook friends to lovers #jungkook fiction

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madamechrissy · 2 days ago

Text

Girl I'm Into It

NSFW- WC- 1.4k- Request for heavy petting w/Gojo! College AU, lots of dry humping, touching, and teasing, Virgin Gojo blushing and whimpering for reasons lol <3

"Holy fuck the party's cramped." You mumble, sipping on this godawful punch in the middle of a rather insane frat party. The scent of smoke and cloyingly sweet liquor mixes with the endless amounts of men's axe body spray and cheap perfume. You look at Satoru then, shaking your head at him. "You really joining the frat, Toru?"

"Yeah, I mean why not? Suguru and Kento are."

"I know but... we play Digimon, Toru."

"Hush!" Satoru covers your mouth up quickly, looking around nervously, making you both laugh then. "You're the nerd."

"Me!?"

"You. Hey man, watch it!" Satoru shoves a dude who has bumped into you out of the way now, sighing as there are just far too many people, watching as you get nervous. "Wanna go to a room? Get away?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind?" You and Satoru had been friends forever, including now that you're in college of course, but parties weren't your thing, especially frat parties. But, you want to support Satoru in whatever he does. He leads you down the halls now, opening a room and peeking in, seeing a couple on the bed.

"Shit, sorry!" He closes the door, now opening another, grinning down at you brightly, his pretty blue eyes glittering under snowy lashes. "Got it."

"Thanks, Toru." You murmur, as he leads you in the room and shuts the door behind you both, the bed looks... questionable, so he instead sits on a big recliner, patting his long leg. You blush at the thought, hoping he can't see.

"Seat right here. The bed looks diseased." He says with a shiver of disgust, you laugh then, sitting on his thigh. You all had done this before at parties, you were good friends and it wasn't crazy but...

But Satoru's leg feels so good between your thighs.

So good you're nervous he can sense your heat, as you've both gotten older you've had more and more feelings for him. But now he's at this university, going to be in a frat, and you're over at an art school, he's right in saying you are a nerd...

"What's wrong silly?" He asks then, peeking at his phone, popping on a song, you try to relax a bit when his big hand is on your bare thigh so casually, he's leaning back to get comfortable, long legs sprawled out, pressing his thigh up even more.

"Um..." You gasp then, when your hips shift, and you feel your panties getting wet, panicking. He has on jeans thank god, maybe he doesn't notice!?

"Recharge that social battery." He teases, and you turn your head again, shifting your hips experimentally, he pauses now, lips parted, pouty pink ones you want to kiss so damn bad. "Fuck... you're..."

"Sorry, shit." You stand now, then look down in horror at the wet spot on his light blue jeans, covering your face in embarrassment. He gulps then, running a thumb over the sticky wetness, exhaling, blue eyes locked on it. "I'll leave-"

"Stop, it's normal yeah?" He laps it up on his thumb, moaning, and your pussy throbs around nothing. "Fuck it's... sweet?"

"It is?" You whisper, he nods then, looking up at you under those long snowy lashes, taking your hips carefully and spinning you towards him. "Gojo I've never..."

"Me either." You gasp at that, eyes wide, and he's blushing now, cheeks flushed pink on his perfect skin.

"How!? You're so popular, and gorgeous-"

"You think I'm gorgeous?" He asks, thin white brows drawn together, now you're between his thighs, his hands pressing into your hips, your entire body is reacting, your breaths quicker and quicker.

"Of course I do, Toru."

"Well I think you're pretty. So pretty." He says softly, and suddenly your hand is running through his silky white locks, as the other rests on a strong bicep over his long sleeved shirt.

"You do?" You manage to whisper, he nods, pulling you on his lap then, your thighs on either side, shaking as you kneel over him. "Toru what are..."

"Can we kiss? Please? Pretty please?" He bats his lashes, pouting, and you nod with a little nervous laugh. "I've done some things if you want me to show you?"

"Like kiss?" You whisper, lips pressing against his now, Satoru moans against your lips, you feel them, plush and firm against yours, his hot tongue slipping inside your mouth, you gasp then. You cling to his shoulders as your panties now brush against his lap, and you sink down, crying out at how good it feels, his hardness between your dripping folds.

"You're a good kisser." He murmurs, pulling back, pressing you down firmer now, and you're soaking your panties, ruining them completely, earning his groan. "I can feel how hot you are. She's so needy, hmm?" His tone goes husky, your lips part at it, gasping, your head falling back as you roll your hips again, grinding on his cock over his clothes.

"Satoru... need more." You whimper when he's kissing the tops of your breasts, then up your throat, licking and biting, bucking his hips up then, earning another cry of pleasure, heat pooling in your core. "Ngh!"

"Those sounds you make, fuck..." Satoru picks you up by your hips then, slipping a finger to your swollen clit over your panties. "They're soaked."

"Embarrassing... ah!" Satoru's little hum of satisfaction just makes you wetter, he's looking right at you, and you're drowning in that gaze, in the swirling blue depths of his eyes.

"Let me make you cum." He whispers, slipping past the elastic of your panties now, finding your soaking wet pussy with his fingers, you nearly fall apart at it, pausing your movements. He moans, hard cock shoving up more. "No, keep rocking on me."

"Y-you sure?" He nods eagerly, so you rock more on Satoru's cock, his finger rolling on your clit now in little circles, watching you, flushed cheeks, parted full lips. You kiss them as you cry out, grinding helplessly while he keeps rolling circles, then starts flicking back and forth. "Toru!"

"So wet, oh my god... so pretty..." He is urging you on more and more with every breath, every kiss, until you're about to fall, and he's sensing it, free hand grabbing your ass, shoving you further on his clothed cock, panties a sticky mess. You're dripping all the way down his finger as he's moaning, harder and harder between your lips. "Let go, I've got you."

"Toru I-"

"Cum." You scream out then, as if on command, shuddering as your wetness gushes all over, as you throb around nothing, making a mess of his finger, your panties, his jeans. He moans now, sucking on his finger before kissing you, grinding up more and more, gasping as you're trembling, clinging to him, wanting more and more...

suddenly the door knocks, and you both curse. "Go away." He grumbles, you giggle then, hips moving just a bit, and Satoru is now slipping down his zipper, you watch with a gulp as his cock is revealed, a sticky wet spot on his boxers as his pretty cock springs free, long and curved, making you wetter. " Can I... rub it on you?" He asks, you nod nervously, and Satoru now has slipped his pretty pink tip into your panties, rubbing on your engorged clit.

"Satoru!" You're gushing more and more, and he groans then, all flushed, clinging to your ass as he fucks your panties.

"F-fuck you're too wet, too hot I- ah- oh my god..." You feel something hot and sticky against you now, and you flush, looking down to see Satoru's cock is spurting hot white ropes of sticky cum agaisnt you. He rests his head on your chest, whimpering. "Fuck I'm sorry. Shit, shit shit..."

"Toru... it's okay." You whisper then, he is blushing as bad as you are when he tilts back, looking up, cupping your face gently. You place your hand down and lap some of it up, moaning. "You're yummy too."

"Fuck... let me..." Satoru picks you up then, taking off the panties he'd cum in, laughing a little nervously as you watch him, only for him to turn you and sit you on the seat, pushing your thighs apart. He fingers the sticky cum on your pussy lips, kneeling then.

"W-what are you doing?" You whisper, and he looks up at you with dilated eyes, kissing up your inner thigh.

"Gonna clean up my mess."

Virgin Toru is new for me aha, but he's adorableee

#satoru gojo #gojo smut #satoru x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo smut #satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x y/n #satoru x y/n #jujustu kaisen #satoru x you

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reysdriver · 3 days ago

Text

Apple Of My Eye | E.M.

You and your coworker Eddie finally do something about your longtime mutual crush when he asks you out after a wild day at work — line cook!eddie x waitress!reader fluff

warnings: customer service nightmares, reader cries over it, I think that's it actually

words: 4.8k

The last thing you heard before shutting the walk-in freezer door behind you was a pan dropping to the floor and Eddie cursing loudly at no one in particular. You sat down with your back against a sack of potatoes beside the vegetable shelf.

The tears that pricked at your eyes were free to run down your face now that you were in the privacy of the walk-in. It’s always been a good place to cry or scream if you were frustrated at work.

You were slightly startled by the heavy door opening, but you knew you shouldn’t be; other people worked here too, of course.

It was Eddie walking in, looking frustrated, though his expression softened when he locked eyes with you.

“Are you okay? What happened?” He asked, letting the door close as he sat down next to you.

You scooted a bit to make more room for Eddie, but still brushed him off.

“I’m okay.” You sniffled, looking down at your feet. “Don’t you have a whole bunch of orders to fill?”

“You know I’m never too busy for you.” He replied, which earned a smile from you.

It was a true thing, Eddie would always take the time, even in the busiest of rush hours, to compliment you, or make you a special plate of fries, or just let you know that your makeup had smudged in all the haste.

He never did it with anyone else, not to the same level, at least. All your coworkers used that as proof that he had a thing for you in the same way that you did for him, but you never believed them.

“So, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

There he goes, using that nickname that makes your heart soar. Now how could you not answer him after he asked as nicely as that?

“Some asshole got mad at me ‘cause I forgot he asked for no vegetables on his burger. He was calling me dumb and saying I’m a bad waitress and—”

“You’re not.” Eddie told you. “Don’t listen to him.”

One look at Eddie’s pretty brown eyes told you he was being completely sincere, but you were still upset.

“He was so mean, and he was kind of right.” You protested.

Eddie shook his head. “Trust me, he’s not. You’re the only coworker I can stand, so you must be doing something right. Plus you just got your degree, so you’re not dumb.”

“It was community college, Eddie.”

“More than I have. Are you calling me dumb?” He nudged you slightly as he teased, and he was finally cheering you up.

“No.” You shook your head, a bashful smile starting on your face.

“Good.” He smiled too, happy that his mission of cheering you up was complete. “Now, I would wipe your tears, but my hands are probably covered in oil so I’m gonna need you to do it for me, okay?”

You nodded and used your index finger to wipe the tears under your eyes and on your cheeks.

The line cook had his eyes trained on you when you looked up back at him, your eyes still glossy but your spirits higher.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better.” You admitted with a soft smile. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“Anytime, princess.” He attempted to stifle a groan as he stood up, then stopped before opening the metal door. “I’ll tell Robin to cover your tables for a bit, so don’t worry about getting back to work. You can stay here as long as you want.”

After thanking him again, he flashed you a smile before exiting the freezer room.

You stayed sitting there, replaying the conversation you just had once over in your head. Once you felt you were composed, you dusted off your clothes and reentered the kitchen.

Though, as soon as you left the freezer, you could hear shouting coming from the front of house and you knew exactly who it was.

See, after Eddie left the freezer, when you were busy wiping your tears, Eddie rifled through the receipts to find exactly the guy who made you cry. Not that he needed it anyways, it was obvious who the asshole was when he walked out to the tables and saw some angry looking loser picking at his french fries.

Now Eddie was in the middle of shaming the man in front of the whole diner.

Customers had their heads turned to watch the public scolding, and all the staff had paused their duties to stare from the sides of the room as well.

“What the hell’s the matter with you? You’re a grown man and you can’t even bear to pick some tomatoes off your burger? You need to whine about the lingering taste of fuckin’ lettuce and make your poor waitress feel like shit?!” Eddie shouted at the guy you were serving. “You better give her one hell of an apology, you hear me?!”

The man nodded pathetically, clearly shaken by the cook’s rant. He probably couldn’t muster up an agreement even if he tried.

Robin, who you had stood next to while watching Eddie chew that customer out, turned to you. She hardly looked flustered at all, since she was used to the diner’s usual activities.

“And you still doubt that he likes you back.” She whispered with a smugly raised eyebrow.

Eddie looked around the room for a moment and noticed you were there. With an outstretched hand and a soft voice, he beckoned you towards him and the man at the booth.

“Sweetheart, can you come over here for a second?” He asked, ever so politely.

You obliged and walked over to him, holding your breath as the threat of crying again was still there.

Standing at the end of the table, Eddie’s gaze panned from you to the slightly terrified man sitting down.

“Now’s the time for that apology, dickwad.” Your coworker gritted.

The man struggled to look you in the eyes as he stuttered out some words of regret. “I’m sorry— Er, I’m sorry for complaining about the burger and saying all that rude stuff, too. I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you.”

The line cook looked over at you, gauging your reaction. “How was that?”

You nodded and flashed him a tiny smile, then told the customer that you accepted his apology.

“Good.” Eddie declared. “Now I’ll go make you a plain, boring burger. And if you’re really sorry then this pretty girl better see a damn good tip when you finish your meal, got it?”

The man nodded meekly once again, and Eddie seemed satisfied with that. He walked back on over to the kitchen while you made your way to your other tables, and the rest of the diner resumed eating and conversing—definitely discussing what just happened.

For the rest of his meal, the man was nice to you. Avoidant for sure, but nice nevertheless. And when he paid, he left a whopping twenty dollar tip and left in a hurry.

Now that the lunch rush was over, you checked the kitchen for Eddie, then Jonathan informed you that he was out back taking a smoke break.

You thanked him, and headed to the back exit of the building where you knew the cook spent a part of every shift. Sure enough, he was standing right next to the door with a cigarette in hand.

“Hey, princess,” Eddie said, exhaling a cloud of smoke away from you. “what are you doing back here?”

You smiled at him and fished the twenty dollar bill out of your pocket to display it. “That guy you yelled at left me a pretty nice tip. Here, it’s yours.”

He shook his head and held out a hand to gesture that he couldn’t take it. “No way, you deserve it. Fuckin’ least you should get after having to deal with that asshole.”

You laughed at his dismissal and tried offering again.

“Come on, you practically mugged that guy to get this money, you have to take it.”

He looked at you with a slight grin, but you couldn’t decide if his expression was that of smugness or entertainment.

“You can hold out that cash until your wrist falls off, I won’t take your money.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, sincere but still purposefully overdramatic. You put the bill back in your apron and quickly counted out ten ones that you had earned from other tables, then held those out instead.

“You should at least have half. I can’t let you leave with nothing. If you don’t take it now, I’ll follow you around all day, begging you to take it.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and smiled. “As tempting as that is, sweetheart, I can’t steal you away from your job like that. I’ll take that money, but I’ll be spending it on you.”

Your heart fluttered at Eddie’s flirting, which was far less subtle than usual. You had to bite the tip of your tongue to prevent yourself from grinning ear-to-ear.

He reached out to take the cash, but he was still grinning mischievously.

“With my half of the cash, I wanna take you on a date, if you’ll let me.”

Holy shit. You never thought he’d ask. And you had expected even less that he would ask in such a gentlemanly manner. Eddie was the type of guy to accidentally tell his boss to fuck off after coming into work hungover, not use the phrase ‘if you’ll let me’.

“I’d like that.” You responded, way more chill than you had expected your reaction to be. “Anything you have in mind?”

“You trying to expose the fact that I’ve thought about this before?” Eddie smirked, which in turn caused you to blush even more than before. “What time do you get off work tonight?”

“Seven, and you?”

“Same. We can rent a movie and I can make you dinner at my place?”

Shit, Eddie thought, I don’t remember the state I left my trailer in.

He tried recalling how messy he left his home, quickly so he could take back the offer if needed.

“Yeah, sounds great.”

Too late now. But as nervous as he was for you to walk into his trailer and see a bunch of dirty dishes and laundry piles, the feeling of glee he felt because you said yes was trumping that a hundred times over.

“Perfect.” Eddie said, stamping out his burnt cigarette. He opened the door back to the restaurant and held it open so you could go first. “After you.”

“Thanks.” You said, barely able to hide your giddy grin. “I gotta get back to my tables, but I’ll see you at seven.”

You both parted ways with matching smiles, hoping the rest of your shifts fly by faster than usual. For the rest of the day, you seemed to have an extra pep in your step while you waited tables.

As seven o’clock approached, you passed off all your tables to other coworkers, told Steve and Robin you wouldn’t need a ride home, and headed to the washroom to fix your hair and touch up your makeup.

Once you were satisfied, you headed to the locker room, where Eddie was standing casually against his own locker. His bored expression morphed into a bright look when he saw you walk in.

“Hey.” Eddie said as you opened your locker and put away your apron. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, and he opened the door for you once again. Such a gentleman when he wants to be.

“So, any movie ideas?” He asked as you both got into his van.

“Something fun.” You told him. “Maybe something like Ferris Bueller's Day Off or Splash?”

“Anything you want.”

For the ride over to the video store, you listened to the radio—a station with both pop and rock—and chatted about everything under the sun.

Once you got to Family Video, you headed towards the comedy section whereas Eddie got distracted by a display of staff picks near the front. He called your name, and you turned around to see him holding up The Texas Chain Saw Massacre with a simper.

“This can be fun, don’t you think?”

You shook your head. “Not if we’re eating tonight. I’ll throw up everywhere. And that’s not the kind of thing that earns a second date.”

He put it down and walked towards the aisle you were standing in. “So you’re already thinking about a second date, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and went back to browsing the shelves. Your eyes landed on a familiar favourite, so you grabbed it and held it up to show Eddie.

“Clue, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you couldn’t do murder movies?”

“No, I just said I couldn’t do that one. This one is hilarious and agreeable.”

“Alright. Hand it over, I already promised to pay for whatever you want.”

You give the tape to him like he asked and you both walk over to the cashier, a teenager who looked extremely disdainful about his job. Eddie pulled out some of the cash you had made him take earlier and placed it on the counter.

Once the transaction was over, you thanked both Eddie and the bored worker, then you headed back out to Eddie’s car.

“So, what meal are you going to spend the remaining five dollars and something cents on?” You asked him, buckling yourself as he rolled out of the parking lot.

Eddie always hated his seatbelt, but he put it on after you—’cause of that damn new law they put in last year.

“I’ll put that in my pocket and save it for the next date. I already have all I need for dinner at home.”

You hummed, slightly surprised.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You shrugged. “I just wouldn’t have pegged you as a chef outside of the diner. You always seem like you’re done with cooking forever when you clock out.”

“You’ve got me there.” Eddie responds. “I only cook at home when it’s for someone else. When I’m alone, my meals are mostly toast and canned pasta.”

“So who else were you planning on cooking for? You said you have all those ingredients.” That was half teasing, half genuinely curious about Eddie’s personal life.

“My uncle, actually. I cook him dinner once a week, mostly ‘cause it proves to him that I can eat healthy.”

“That’s really sweet.”

“What can I say?” Eddie shrugged dramatically. “I’m just a sweet guy.”

Once you arrived at Eddie’s trailer, he was relieved to open the door and see that his place hadn’t been left in shambles. The place wasn’t as neat as he would like for a first date—especially one with you—but it was good enough.

“So, this is it.” Eddie said, arms outstretched like a real estate agent. “You want a tour or is that just for stuffy old people?”

“I’ll take a tour.”

Eddie was kind of hoping you didn’t say that. The trailer was small and he was a little embarrassed. But he supposed it was his own fault for asking in the first place.

“Alright. Here’s the living room, it’s where I smoke and watch TV.”

You let out a giggle at the bluntness of his tour. He was glad his joke (half-joke) didn’t fall flat.

“And you can follow me three feet to the kitchen, which is where I make good meals for others and crap for myself.”

He opened a cupboard full of canned food and snacks for the realtor effect, then did the same with the fridge. He waved a hand near it like a magician showing off a box that no longer contains a woman in a sparkly leotard.

“We can then move on to the bathroom. It’s got a shower with mediocre water pressure, a pretty average toilet, and a sink that’s covered in toothpaste—don’t look at that, actually.”

You kept walking to the only other real room in the trailer, his bedroom. It was about the size of the kitchen area, and it was very distinctly Eddie. All the walls were covered floor-to-ceiling in posters for metal bands and movies he likes, every surface was covered in snack boxes and ashtrays, and he had one incredibly cool guitar hanging in the middle of his wall.

After staring at the room for so long that you probably had at least one wall memorised, you and Eddie both realised you hadn’t spoken in a while.

“This is where the magic happens.” Eddie said, not quite as smoothly as he was going for.

“The magic?” You teased.

He thought for a second, then clarified. “Not that kind of magic. I just make music and write Dungeons & Dragons campaigns.”

“That can be pretty magical.” You shrugged.

“Yeah, but not as magical as the dinner I’m about to make for you. If you’re not excited already, you should start.”

You both left his bedroom and Eddie instructed you to relax in the living room and turn on the TV to something you could use as a backdrop while Eddie cooked.

While he made dinner, you sat comfortably on his couch and chatted with him from the other room. You got to know each other, more than you do at work. Eddie told you about his band and how they play at The Hideout, you told him about your time at community college and your friends outside of the diner.

“Alright, soup’s on.” Eddie announced, setting two plates on his kitchen table and inviting you over. “Actually, it’s not soup, it’s chicken parm.”

“I appreciate the clarification.” You sat down in the seat closest to you. “It looks good. Smells amazing too.”

And it really was as amazing as it seemed. Although you were no stranger to Eddie’s cooking, all you’ve ever had made by him was diner food. Of course, the diner food was great, but this was another level. You weren’t sure what set it apart; maybe it was just the quality ingredients and lack of yelling while cooking.

Once your plate was almost empty, Eddie asked if you wanted dessert too. You were slightly confused as you hadn’t seen him make any dessert to go along with the meal, but you agreed anyway.

“Did you make dessert?” You asked after he stood up.

“Nope, but I’ve got all the ingredients, so I can make it now.”

“Oh.” You suddenly felt bad, even though he already offered and went through with making you food. “Well, I don’t want to put you out. We can just watch—”

“It’s okay. I don’t have the ingredients for anything fancy. Just the simple stuff.”

That made you feel a little better. You were still curious, but for a different reason now. What could Eddie make quickly to pair with that fantastic dinner.

You watched as he pulled out Oreos and gummy worms. Was he making a child’s favourite snack as your dessert?

“What are you planning there?” You asked him.

Then you saw him open the fridge and pull out chocolate pudding cups, then it all clicked in your head.

Holy shit. Worms and Dirt.

That was absolutely not what you were expecting, but it was definitely a welcome surprise.

“I was thinking about just serving up sliced apples and peanut butter along with some cheesy pick-up line like ‘you’re the apple of my eye’, but I figured that would scare you away.”

“I don’t think that would scare me away.” You told him. “In fact, I would have found it cute. But I’m happy with the pudding.”

Eddie was quite flattered by that, though he tried hard to not let it show. You could definitely see a blush on his cheeks and the corners of his lips turning upwards, as much as he covered it up.

“You ever had Worms and Dirt?” He asked, opening up the Oreo pack.

“Yeah.” You answered from your seat at the table while he scraped off the cookie filling. “My mom used to make it for me when I was a kid.”

Eddie stopped preparing the food for a second as he turned and gave you a genuine smile.

“Me too.”

After that, Eddie went back to making the dessert, the happy expression still lingering on his lips.

“I’m almost done, do you want to pop the movie in while I’m finishing up?”

You nodded, then waltzed over to the living room to start up Clue. While the opening credits rolled, Eddie took a seat next to you on the couch and spread out a couple bowls and several pudding cups on his coffee table.

He handed you a spoon and gestured to the setup in front of you two.

“I figured we could do like a make-your-own thing, just ‘cause I always find one is never enough, and then you can choose your portions, you know?”

You hummed in agreement. “It’s a pretty good idea.”

Eddie then pointed to the bowl in between the cookie crumble and gummy worms. Inside that one was the creme filling he had just scraped out of the Oreos.

“Oh, and that’s for you.”

Just like Eddie earlier, you were super flattered but didn’t want to show your cards. You thanked him for saving you the best part, and then the two of you made your desserts and brought your attention to the movie.

Somewhere along the way while watching it, you and Eddie had moved from your spots on opposite ends of the couch to meeting somewhere in the middle, wrapped up with each other.

You were pressed against his side with a hand on his back and an arm around his abdomen. He had his arm slung around your shoulder, and you liked it. He liked it too. And truth be told, you had both pictured yourself before in this exact position—among others.

As Wadsworth dramatically ran through each murder and event of the night, Eddie subtly looked down to see your entertained expression trained on the TV screen.

Even though Eddie quite liked the movie you were watching, he liked you more. He was trying to think of a way to make a bigger move on you instead of actually paying attention.

He was about to do it too. Just as his hands started to wander, there was a knock at his front door that caused you both to back off of each other and turn your heads that way.

“It’s probably just some kid looking for weed. I’ll be back in a second, you don’t need to pause it.” Eddie told you as he stood up.

“Okay. Hurry up or you’ll miss the ending!” You told him.

He opened the door and sure enough, it was a kid looking for weed. Some high schooler, maybe seventeen years old. In one hand, he had a couple crumpled bills, and the other one was in his pocket.

“Someone told me to come here for… stuff.” The kid said to Eddie.

“Okay, how much do you want?” Eddie replied.

The boy looked confused, thinking it through.

“I don’t know.” He finally answered. “I was just told to bring money.”

“Okay, well I’ve got someone over and you’re wasting my time a little bit. How about you just hand me that money, and I’ll bring you whatever that’s worth?”

“Okay.”

The kid handed over the cash and Eddie told him to stay at the door while he counted the money and walked over to his bedroom.

He came out with a small baggie in his hand and flashed you a quick apologetic grin before facing the kid again.

“There you go. Enjoy.”

Eddie shut the door behind him and walked back to the couch to sit with you again, just as the movie was wrapping up.

“I’m sorry about that. I was hoping tonight could go interrupted, but that’s never the case, right?”

“Yeah, it’s alright. I didn’t know you still dealt.”

The staff at the diner was pretty close-knit, and you had heard lots about Eddie selling drugs in high school, but you had figured that was in the past. You weren’t judging, though. People do what they can to pay the bills—you were both working in a diner at the edge of your crappy town, you know all about that.

“I don’t really. Just from time to time, I guess.” Eddie shrugged. “Does that bother you?”

“No. Everyone’s gotta do what they can in life. I don’t have a problem, as long as you’re okay with it.”

“Cool.”

You both just looked at each other for a second, not sure what to say now. Eddie missed the perfect opportunity to make the move he wanted to make on you earlier, and now the movie was over.

You both silently cursed yourself for not doing what you really wanted to do earlier, but the mood was interrupted by a kid at the door wanting to get high.

Although you wanted to stay at Eddie’s place for longer, you knew the night was coming to a natural end.

“I should probably get home soon. I have work in the morning.”

Eddie was mentally kicking himself for not doing anything earlier, but he definitely wasn’t going to try and convince you to stay since he was aware how that could make him seem.

“Yeah, okay. I can drive you home.” He stood up and grabbed his car keys from the counter. “You know, Steve’s probably already getting his beauty sleep or something.”

You thanked Eddie and strolled over to him, who was holding the door open for you.

The two of you walked out to his van, and you slid into the same seat where you had begun the evening. Eddie sat down next to you and flashed you a quick smile before starting the car.

The ride back to your place was, for the most part, quiet and awkward; it was a sad change from the chemistry you were feeling just an hour ago.

When you arrived back home, Eddie stopped the car, but you spoke before you got out and the night would be officially over.

“Thanks for tonight, Eddie. I think we should do this again.”

He looked flustered for a moment. It was no more than a second, but you caught it anyway.

“Well, thanks for saying yes, sweetheart. Are you doing anything Sunday?”

“I have a shift in the morning, but I’m done by the early afternoon.”

“Perfect.” Eddie smiled. “I’ll think of something for us to do then.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt as you badly masked a grin.

“Okay. It’s a date.”

Eddie opened the door on his side, and so you followed suit.

“You want me to walk you back?” Eddie offered.

You stood a foot and a half away from Eddie beside his van and looked back to your apartment building.

“Steve and Robin are probably pressed against the peephole right now, so I don’t know.”

Eddie ran his hand through his hair and shook his head amusedly. “Ah, I see. You’ve already got people looking out for you?”

You hummed, biting your lip softly.

“So…” You trailed off.

“So?” Eddie raised an eyebrow.

That’s when you finally took your chance. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s cheek, just by the corner of his mouth.

You backed away, and Eddie seemed flustered but happy, so you knew it went well.

“Thanks again. I’ll see you at work, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie said quietly. “See you.”

It wasn’t often that Eddie flustered like that. Usually he was calm and collected, or at least yelling, if we’re talking about being in the kitchen at the diner. But very rarely did Eddie blush, and that’s exactly what he did after you kissed him.

He guessed that it made a lot of sense that you could be the one to make him feel things that no one else can.

Eddie watched as you walked over to the front of your building and gave him a wave before going inside. His thoughts were moving so fast, he can’t even remember if he waved back. Damn, he hopes he waved back.

Then, as soon as you were inside and you were both out of each other’s sight, Eddie had to let out his excitement. He took a step out and threw his head forward, shouting at the top of his lungs.

He stopped the moment he realised you might be able to hear him, and quickly went back into his van. Then he started shouting inside the privacy of those metal walls.

Eddie was really excited about seeing you tomorrow.

Little to Eddie’s knowledge, you were just as excited as him, if not even more.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #line cook!eddie munson #line cook!eddie #line cook!eddie x reader #line cook!eddie x waitress!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things au #apple of my eye

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luveline · 2 days ago

Note

hi jade! I remember a while back you wrote a drabble about hotchner!reader having a really bad panic attack and Spencer and Aaron helping her at the hospital, and it gave me a lot of comfort to read it. would you be interested in writing something about Spencer and Aaron taking care of hotchner!reader as she adjusts to her new meds?

—Spencer and your brother, Aaron, take care of you when your new prescription gives unexpected side effects. fem (adopted) 2k

When things got quiet at home, you’d get tense.

Your apartment is silent. No whir of the heating, no washing machine clatter, no voices. You sit on the couch with your legs pulled up, turned to the armrest with your cheek pressed to the seat's backing. Your phone is in your hand at a low percentage. You’ll get up to charge just as soon as you can remember what you’d wanted to be doing in the first place.

Spencer was going to call you. He’s sweet, really. You didn’t expect for love to feel easy; you never thought someone could like you without allowances. You’re quiet sometimes, your nerves are shot. You ask for reassurance too much, too often, and you don’t believe them when they’re given.

You aren’t smart, or funny, or particularly hard-working.

But Spencer loves you, you’re almost certain. Or maybe he’s just content to be half happy. It wouldn’t surprise you if he called you to break up with you —what use have you been to him lately? You’re tired everyday. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, you never want to go out. You can barely make it through the working day.

Your phone beeps in your hand.

Outside, it says. If Spencer’s there, please make sure he’s fully dressed.

You manage to smile weakly. Aaron saw Spencer once getting out of the shower, and he was dressed, thank you very much. You hadn’t done anything salacious as he might’ve assumed from the situation, just showered together, but Aaron always lets you know before visiting now.

Doesn’t ask, by the way, but you don’t actually want him to. He’s like, the only good thing in your life beside Spencer.

Aaron lets himself in and finds you immediately. “Hey, honey,” he says.

He slipped into the affectionate older brother role not long after meeting you, and he’s been worse since you were in the hospital. Which is to say, gentler with you.

He slips a bag of groceries onto the counter. He pans around the room. It’s cleaner than usual here, but none of the lights are on, nor the TV. You can see him notice it.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling groceries from the bag. He’s brought milk, bread, eggs, and fresh soups from the nice store nearby. “It’s quiet in here.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? Any wobbles?”

He’s asking if you’ve had a panic attack or anything like it, but for the last few days you’ve felt veritably numb. “I’m okay,” you say.

You should bring up your symptoms. Clearly, lexapro either isn’t right for you or the dosage is too much; you’re a zombie these last couple of days. Medications don’t always work straight away, so for a time you’d felt like your script was useless, serving only to make you nauseous, but the sickness has finally gone away.

He opens the fridge to put away the groceries. He’s sliding the bread into your bread box when he says, “Honey, aren’t you gonna answer that? Your phone?”

You blink down at your phone. Spencer’s contact glows in front of a green background.

You click answer and pull it to your ear. “Hello?” you ask softly.

“Hey, angel. How are you feeling today?”

You clear your throat. “Fine.”

“I was thinking I’d come over?”

“You’re outside?” you ask.

“How’d you know that?”

“Must be something in the water.”

“I’ll come up now. I brought some things for dinner.”

You manage your first laugh that dreary day. It’s nearly normal. “Okay. I might not have room.”

Spencer promises to be up quickly and disconnects the call. You lift your chin to find Aaron already looking at you. “Do I look okay?” you ask.

“Beautiful, don’t worry.”

“Is this an ambush?” you ask.

“Not an intentional one. Can I make you something to drink?”

He’ll make you something you like, you trust. You try to sit properly on the couch before Spencer gets here, rubbing under your eyes, checking there’s nothing on your t-shirt and sweatpants. It might not matter if there were, you know Spencer thinks you’re pretty without makeup or fancy clothes, but he doesn’t necessarily have to be truthful about it.

“Aaron,” you say, before you can forget, “did… was Jack’s soccer okay?”

He passes you a mug, squeezing your shoulder lovingly. “It was great. I’ll show you the photos.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t go.”

You were supposed to. Spencer even drove to pick you up, but he got here and your meds weren’t working and your heart was beating wrong, so you stayed home.

“It’s okay.” Aaron looks like he wants to hug you, but he doesn’t. “Nobody’s mad at you for that.”

“For other things?”

“Nothing.”

Your door opens again. Spencer bursts in with two things, a brown paper bag of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. It’s a pretty huge bouquet, as they go, white and pink flowers, cornflower blue chrysanthemums spotted throughout, the end of his scarf stuck in the flowers and his coat unbuttoned in the struggle. “Hey. Hi, Hotch.”

“Spencer,” Aaron says, which is strangely warm.

Spencer shoves the bouquet aside to see you. “Hi, you okay?”

You force yourself to stand. It’s obvious you’re not feeling right, your head whirring, but you have to make sure he still wants you. “Spencer.”

He puts the bouquet down. The groceries next. “Angel,” he says, meeting Aaron’s eyes quickly, then back to you, where he smiles sympathetically, “How long have you been feeling like this?”

You’ve only taken a few steps toward him when he catches you for a hug. It’s nice and polite, but not without tenderness. He doesn’t pull your weight in like he would if you were alone, but he holds your back and sits a quick kiss against your cheek as he pulls away.

“I don’t really know, a few days?” you suggest.

“You could’ve told me. Or Hotch, you know?”

“I know, I was going to, just–” You press your hand to your eyes. “Didn’t really notice it was happening.”

“Don’t get upset,” Aaron says, coming to join you both in the kitchen. “It’s alright. Spencer isn’t scolding you, he just wants you to know we’re here for you no matter what happens.”

“I don’t feel like myself,” you say.

“That’s okay,” Aaron furthers, holding you by the shoulder, his hand settling behind the nape of your neck, “we can talk to your doctor again, this isn’t permanent. We’ll talk to them today, if it’s what you need.”

“I’m sorry. Not many people have such an adverse effect to lexapro, I was hoping you wouldn’t be an exception,” Spencer says.

To your surprise, Aaron answers for you, “You couldn’t have known. This is just something we’ll have to keep doing together.”

Someone sits you down. Aaron warms his fancy soups and toasts the bread he brought, making a plate and bowl for each of you without asking. Spencer barely balks. You manage another laugh, for which you’re rewarded with two smiles.

Aaron can’t stay much longer, having to pick up Jack from Jess’, but he offers to come back. You decline, not wanting Jack to see you feeling as depressed as you are. He promises to call the doctor tonight and leaves in a rush. He must’ve stayed longer than he should’ve.

Spencer is more forthcoming with soft touches once he’s gone. He didn’t eat much but neither did you, pushing the plates across the coffee table. He’s still wearing his coat.

Fond, you reach for his chest and begin slipping buttons from the eyelets. “You’re staying, right?” you murmur.

“If you’ll have me.”

You open his coat and push it away from his shoulders. He dressed fancy even when he’s not going anywhere, it’s so strange, the button up and the tie and the sweater vest, all of it, but you love it. You run your hand down his vest. He lets his head dip forward. Not for kissing, just to be near.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Just feel wrong.”

“It’s not really a good idea to stop taking the lexapro now. It’s technically an antidepressant, and your body won’t adjust well.” He holds your waist as you hold his. “But this is weird, huh?”

“Feels weird.”

“Short term, uh, I think we should just try and make sure you feel alright today. Is there anything you need?” he’s murmuring, rubbing his thumb into the soft of your stomach. “I can get anything. Or we can do anything.”

“You don’t have to… worry about me.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks softly.

“We haven’t been…” You trail your hand to his stomach, where it stays. “I just don’t expect you to deal with this, you didn’t sign up for this.”

“I don’t think that’s true. I had no idea what I’d find out about you or what you might go through when we first met, but I wanted to find out. I wanted to take care of you then, and I do now,” he says simply.

“It’s not good timing for me to be like this.”

“Stuff happens all the time. I wouldn’t want to wait for you to be perfect before we met.” He smiles genuinely. “Not that you’re not perfect.”

“I really feel like I’m not even me.”

“You’re you,” he says, dipping so close to you that you can’t see his face anymore, just his skin.

You slouch into his chest, coaxed by long, lithe arms cradling you, as kind as anyone’s ever touched you. He smells clean, your nose finding its way to his stiff collar.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“You don’t have to be. Nobody wants you to be sorry, okay?”

It’s a new feeling. Spencer spends the night with you on the couch and doesn’t for a moment seem like it’s something he doesn’t wanna do. You end up laying on his chest, his fingers drawing lines like a meandering figure skater up your back. Twirls and loops, long laps around your spine. When your phone rings, he’s nice enough to click answer and hold it to your ear.

“Aaron?” you ask sleepily.

“Hey, honey. I’ll be by tomorrow to take you back to Dr. Chester’s office, alright? If you don’t want to keep taking your lexapro, don’t. But if you can manage it, take another tonight, and we’ll figure out the new plan after your appointment.”

“Okay,” you say, feeling very small. “Thank you for doing that for me.”

“I’d do anything. Jack says he loves you, he’s making you a painting of yourself. He’s very good at the colours.”

“I bet he is,” you say loudly. In the background, you can hear Jack’s pleased little thank you.

“Do you want to talk a while?” he asks.

“That’s okay, Aaron, I’m half asleep on Spencer right now.”

“Good, that’s good. Tell him to take good care of you, okay? Or I won’t be happy.”

Spencer laughs above your head. “When is he ever happy?” he jokes in a whisper.

“Shh,” you say, giving Spencer a light shove. “He says he will.” You swallow a lump, as you’ve had to do all day, but it isn’t rawness that colours your voice now. “I love you. Thank you for, uh, calling the doctor. Thanks.”

“I love you too. I’ll leave you to sleep now. I’ll come at eleven, alright?”

“Alright. See you tomorrow,” you say.

Your voice is weak. Spencer pulls the phone away and hangs it up, tossing it without force onto the coffee table, before wrapping his arm around you snugly.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Spencer says. “You’ll see, things aren’t going to be like this forever. It’s statistically impossible.”

“Ooh,” you croon, pressing your tired face back into his chest, “I love when you talk statistics to me. Tell me more.”

He draws shapes into your back, his voice a murmur as he starts to talk.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #hotchner!reader

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entitled-fangirl · 20 hours ago

Text

I'll always be thanking you.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: The reader goes through postpartum depression after she gives him yet another girl. Cregan reassures her that he loves his daughters.

Warnings: postpartum depression, recovering from childbirth, sexist culture

Masterlist

A/n: it's a two fic kinda day

...............................................................................

It had happened so suddenly.

Cregan thought all was right in the world. Everything was set in place by the Old Gods as it should be. Everything was perfect.

But he knew that the last two pregnancies had been unkind to her, prompting a horrid depression after them that went on for months. But when it hadn't shown yet for this last one, he thought that perhaps it had stopped completely.

Until now.

He stepped into their chamber with a broad smile, lightly bouncing the two-year-old on his arm. Arya. She giggled with each one, the sound distorted with the force of the bounces. Witnessing the intimidating man turn soft for the little girl was entirely endearing.

"Your mother is still in bed," he chipped lightly as he observed his wife covered by the furs they shared every night.

"She always in bed," Lyanna, their five year old said as she trailed behind them.

"Not always," Cregan corrected firmly. "She just gave us your new sister. It takes a long time for the body and mind to recover from something that great."

A small shaking of his wife's shoulders from her laying form in the bed caused him to worry slightly. "Lyanna, why don't you take your sister?"

She wanted to complain but knew better than to argue with her father. She took the toddler's hand and they walked out from the room.

Cregan's recovering wife laid in their bed, completely unmoving except for the small shoulder shake he'd seen. It was a quiver and it sent him on edge. She only ever did that when-

"Are you crying?" He whispered as he sat on the bed, her back to him.

Finally she turned. She had been awake the entire time. Her face was red from crying, the paths of her tears evident on her face. Her lips pouted down as she suppressed a sob.

Cregan was quick to comfort her. He practically laid his body over hers, keeping an arm around her to let her weep into his collarbone. And she did so.

He cooed every few moments, his free hand rubbing at her hair. The tears pained him almost as much as watching her endure the harsh labor only a two weeks before.

When the violent part of the crying was over, he pulled her face away to look at her. "Now," he caressed her cheek, "What is all this for?"

She sniffled and hiccuped between words. "It's just… just… Sarra."

His face fell. "Is something wrong with the babe?"

"No. It's just…" she caught her breath. "Another girl."

Cregan's head tilted. "It is," he reckoned. "What is the problem, my love?"

"Can I not give you a boy?" She whispered in fear of the answer.

Realization flooded Cregan. "You're doing nothing wrong," he assured. "I love my girls with all my heart. Did you want a boy this badly?"

"I just want you to be proud of me."

He visibly flinched. The thought of his postpartum wife crying over giving him a healthy baby was too much for him. "I'm proud of you. You've given me three girls now."

"But it's not a boy." Her eyes continually welled up with tears. "I was so sure it was a boy."

"Do you think me that shallow, dear wife?" He asked in a firm tone. "That I'd have you birth children until I got a boy?"

"Two," she corrected. "You need an heir and a spare and I-" her breath caught. "I cannot even give you one. A cursed womb-"

"Don't say that." His voice was a firm growl, his hand grabbing her jaw a bit harder than he meant to. "Do not say that."

A few tears ran down her cheeks.

Cregan forced a sigh and let his anger die down. He sat up a bit, giving her space. "Do you think that all I wanted in this world were two sons? Do you think that is all my heart desires?"

It was clear that she knew deep down how ridiculous she sounded. "Well-"

"-I've said it many times. What does my heart desire? Hmm? What brightens my day more than the sun?"

She let out a breath through her nose.

Cregan continued, tilting his head down to catch her gaze. "My wife and what? What else?"

"Your children," she whispered.

"Hm?" He asked, though he clearly heard it. He just wanted her to say it once again.

"Your children," she said a bit louder.

He smiled. "Yes, our children." He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Whether we had had one or you give me an army, I shall love them all until my remains in the crypt are long gone. Being a boy or girl doesn't change it."

"But… Winterfell-"

"-We'll deal with the succession when it is meant to happen. Until now, you're going to rest, and I'm going to spend time with our children. But I'm not going anywhere until you've done your part."

"The maester said it would take much longer to heal this time," she muttered. To herself or Cregan, she wasn't sure.

"That's alright. We've got all the time we need for now, don't we? No need to rush things."

"But the sooner we try-"

"-No-"

"-And Sarra was such a surprise-"

"-Stop-"

"-The next one could be sooner-"

"-Love," he said with a slightly raised voice. "When you're healed and ready to try once more, I will be eternally grateful. But I can wait a lifetime if I need to. I have all I need in the world already."

There was a small knock on the door. "Papa?"

No doubt it was Arya.

Cregan grinned and kissed his wife's temple before going to the door. In the doorway stood little Arya, her hair a sandy brown like Cregan's, her bright eyes like her mother. "What do you need?" It was a firm ask from him, but not one without care.

Arya had yet to say complete sentences yet, only a few words here and there and the lord would be forced to try to make sense of them. She babbled about something and Cregan's brows raised, completely at a loss. "Um… I-"

"Here, darling," Y/n's soft voice came from behind Cregan as she walked to them. In her hand was Arya's doll that she had no doubt dropped earlier. It was a carefully sewn piece from Cregan's bastard sister, Sara, of whom the new babe was named after. "I see Aunt Sara got a new dress for her, hm?"

Arya grabbed the doll quickly from her mother and hugged the doll tightly.

Cregan wrapped an arm around his wife. He wanted to scold her for getting up but he would refrain from that for now. "Aye. A very pretty dress," he tried to compliment. Cregan didn't know the first thing about sewing or doll making, or even the fashion of ladies, but he tried anyway to please his girls.

Arya's brows came together in clear confusion, prompting his wife to lightly elbow him. He gave a grunt and gawked.

"It's a battle dress," she spoke through her teeth. "It's a doll dressed like a female warrior."

He decided to go along with it, though he clearly didn't understand it. "I mean, what a very fierce dress. Seems very… protective."

Arya accepted that answer and held the doll out for Cregan to truly see. His gruff hand reached out and took the doll, bringing it up to his level to admire. His sister had done well with it, even he could see that. "So very pr-" he caught himself. "So very strong."

Arya jumped up to grab the doll and Cregan handed it back to her. The two parents watched her take off again like nothing had happened.

"How'd you know what she wanted?" He asked his wife.

She rubbed at her tired eyes, ignoring the slight ache in her thighs. "She said so. Didn't you hear it?"

"We have three lovely girls and I still have so much to learn," he remarked, amusement oozing from his voice.

She gave a tired grin at that. She began leaning more into him than before and he held her hips taught. "Now," he remarked, "to bed with you."

"Sarra might need me-"

"-I'll check on Sarra."

"And Lyanna was hoping to play outside-"

"-I'll see to it."

"And Arya-"

"-What of Arya?" He asked quietly.

She paused. "I- She always needs something."

He let out a deep chuckle, guiding her back to the bed. "I'll see to it all. I promise you. I can be a father, whether you believe that or not."

She hummed. "I do."

"Alright. Then let me." He kissed her cheek, his scruff rubbing at her skin. "We'll get you in bed."

"Can the girls visit later?"

He couldn't deny those bright eyes of hers. The same ones each of his girls inherited. It was his one weakness. "After you sup, then yes. But that is in a few hours."

Relief and excitement pulled at her shoulders, a comforting feeling washing over her. "Thank you."

As he tucked her back into the bed, he smiled at her. "Don't thank me. You've given me everything. I'll always be thanking you."

................................................

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theonottsbxtch · 2 days ago

Text

FOR YOU, ALWAYS | CL16

an: this was a request! i loved wiritng it and now i love the idea of historical romance prince!charles, thank you for requesting it 💞 also i listened to experience by ludovico einaudi the entire time i wrote this

summary: charles has always hated his life, he thinks, he doesn’t know really. but then he meets someone, she challenges him, she makes him try and all of a sudden he knows what he wants.

wc: 12k

The grand dining hall of the Château de Monte Carlo was bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through its ornate windows. Prince Charles of Monaco sat at the long mahogany table, his jaw tight as his parents, the Sovereign Prince and Princess, laid out their expectations with the weight of unshakable certainty.

"You must understand, Charles," his mother said, her voice poised yet firm, "a union with Princess Evelyn of England is not merely desirable—it is necessary. The alliance could strengthen our position in ways you cannot yet fully grasp."

His father leaned forward, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the table. "This is not a matter of choice. You are the crown prince. Your duty outweighs any personal hesitation."

Charles’s fingers tightened around the stem of his untouched glass. “And what of my life? Am I to simply be a pawn in your political games?” His voice was calm, but a sharp edge lay beneath the surface.

His mother’s gaze softened slightly, though not enough to dissuade her resolve. “You are the oldest, my son. The weight of the crown has always been yours to bear. This... is part of that burden.”

He didn’t argue further, though every fibre of his being resisted. Instead, he rose, offering a clipped bow. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Moments later, Charles pushed open the heavy doors to his private chambers, stepping into the quiet sanctuary of his room. His temples throbbed with the remnants of the conversation, and he felt the weight of his parents’ expectations settling heavier than the crown he would one day wear.

Inside, the faint rustle of fabric caught his attention. The servant girl—her name unknown to him, as it was meant to be—was smoothing the fresh sheets over his bed. She froze upon seeing him, her hands faltering mid-motion.

“Your Highness,” she said quickly, dipping into a small, practised curtsey. “I didn’t realise you were returning so soon. Shall I leave and return later?”

He waved a hand absently, stepping toward the settee by the window. “No. Stay. Finish your work.”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering to his face, then back to the task at hand. He sank into the settee, his head tilting back against the carved wood as he let out a heavy sigh.

“Do you ever wonder,” he began, his voice soft yet tinged with frustration, “why some of us are given so much freedom, yet chained in ways that others cannot see?”

She paused, her hands gripping the edges of the linen she had just tucked in, unsure if the question was meant for her.

When she did not answer, he looked at her—truly looked at her—for the first time in a long while. Her expression was guarded, her posture poised, as though expecting reproach. “You can speak freely,” he said, a rare hint of gentleness colouring his tone.

Her lips parted slightly, then closed again before she carefully responded, “I think, Your Highness, that even those with freedom often long for something else.”

He smiled faintly, though there was no humour in it. “Something else,” he echoed, the words hanging between them like a challenge to a fate he could not escape.

She quickly turned her attention back to the task at hand, smoothing the sheets in swift, precise movements, as if afraid that lingering would invite trouble. Charles, however, was not done with the conversation.

“And what would you long for?” he asked, his voice quieter now but laced with curiosity. “If you could have… anything?”

Her hands stilled, though she didn’t lift her gaze. “It doesn’t matter, Your Highness. People like me don’t waste time with such thoughts.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The firmness in his tone made her look up briefly, her eyes meeting his for the first time. They were dark, unyielding, yet not unkind. She hesitated, as though weighing the consequences of speaking too openly.

Finally, she murmured, “I suppose… I’d long for choice. To decide my own path, no matter how humble.”

Charles leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he regarded her with an intensity that made her shift slightly under his gaze. “Choice,” he repeated, almost to himself. “The one thing I’ve never had.”

She blinked at his words, her brow furrowing in confusion. He noticed the look and gave a soft, bitter laugh.

“You think I have everything, don’t you?” he asked, gesturing vaguely at the opulence surrounding them. “All this, and yet I’m to marry a woman I’ve never met. Smile on command. Produce heirs like some stud horse for the dynasty.”

“Your Highness—”

“Spare me,” he interrupted, raising a hand. “I’m aware I sound insufferable. Poor me, the prince in his gilded cage.”

The corners of her mouth twitched, the faintest shadow of a smile threatening to appear, though she suppressed it quickly. “I wouldn’t dare say so, Your Highness.”

“And yet you’re thinking it,” he said, leaning back against the settee, a faint smirk tugging at his lips now. “Go on. You’ve already said more than most would dare. Speak freely.”

She hesitated, then, emboldened by his unusual mood, offered carefully, “I think… it’s easier to envy a cage when it’s lined with silk.”

Charles let out a bark of laughter, surprising them both. For a moment, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate, replaced by something lighter.

“Touché,” he said, shaking his head. “Perhaps I deserve that.”

She resumed her work in silence, and he watched her, his mind turning over her words. There was a simplicity in her presence, a quiet sense of purpose that felt like a reprieve from the endless demands of court life.

As she moved to leave, her task completed, she paused by the door. “Your Highness,” she said, her voice tentative.

He glanced up, his expression expectant.

“Sometimes… cages are only as strong as we believe them to be.”

Before he could respond, she slipped out, leaving him alone with his thoughts—and the echo of her words, which refused to leave him in peace.

The words haunted Charles for days. Cages are only as strong as we believe them to be. They played on a loop in his mind, following him from morning meetings with ministers to the hollow dinners with his parents, where talk of his engagement to Princess Evelyn consumed every conversation.

By the third day, he relented. Not to the sentiment behind her words, but to the reality of his life. Duty, it seemed, would always triumph over desire. He formally agreed to the arrangement in a cold meeting with his father, his voice devoid of emotion as he signed the papers that would announce his betrothal to the world.

That evening, restless and seeking solace, he ventured into the royal gardens. The roses were in full bloom, their scent heavy in the warm air, yet they brought him no comfort. The paths, so meticulously maintained, felt as constricting as the marble walls of the palace.

The crisp evening air offered a solace the grand halls could not. He strolled along the manicured paths, his mind still heavy with the decision he had made, when movement near the servant’s entrance caught his eye.

It was her.

She was dressed simply, carrying a basket as she slipped through the narrow door at the edge of the palace walls. For a moment, he simply watched her, a sudden curiosity flaring to life. Then, before reason could temper him, he followed.

She moved with purpose, her steps quick as she crossed the gravel path leading to the servants’ gate. Charles kept his distance, careful to stay within the shadows. The sound of the gate creaking open carried through the still night, and he quickened his pace.

“Wait,” he called softly as the gate began to swing shut behind her.

She spun, startled, her hand flying to her chest when she saw him. “Your Highness!” she whispered, her tone panicked. She glanced around quickly, as though expecting someone to appear from the darkness. “What are you doing out here?”

“I saw you,” he said simply, his voice low, “and I followed.”

Her expression shifted from shock to alarm. “You shouldn’t have. If anyone sees you out here with me—”

“They won’t,” he said firmly, stepping closer.

“But if they do…” Her voice dropped further, almost a plea. “I’ll be dismissed—worse. Do you know what they’d do to me for leaving the palace grounds with the prince?”

He stared at her, and for the first time in days, he felt a flicker of something other than despair. “Please,” he said, the word escaping him softly but with undeniable weight.

Her eyes widened at his uncharacteristic vulnerability. She shook her head, taking a step back. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”

“I’m not ordering you,” he said quickly. “I’m asking.”

For a moment, she stood frozen, her mind clearly racing. Then, with a frustrated sigh, she pulled the cloak from her shoulders and thrust it toward him.

“Fine,” she said, her tone sharp but her movements careful as she draped it around him. “If anyone asks, you’re my cousin visiting from the countryside. Keep your head down and your mouth shut.”

Charles nodded, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Understood.”

She turned and began walking quickly down the narrow dirt path beyond the gate. He followed, cloaked in her simple, worn garment, the scent of lavender lingering faintly in the fabric.

They walked in silence for what felt like an eternity before the lights of a small village came into view. She turned onto a side lane, leading him to a tiny house at the edge of town, its thatched roof weathered but charming.

“This is it,” she said, her voice clipped as she gestured to the modest dwelling.

He stared at the house, a stark contrast to the palace he called home. “You live here?”

“Yes,” she said, clearly defensive. “It’s small, but it’s mine. No one tells me what to do when I’m here.”

He didn’t respond, too busy taking in the details: the flower boxes beneath the windows, the faint glow of a single candle in the window.

“Now you’ve seen it,” she said, her tone impatient. “You should go back before someone notices you’re missing.”

But Charles shook his head. “No,” he said softly, his eyes still fixed on the little house. “Not yet.”

Her brow furrowed as she crossed her arms. “You shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

“Perhaps not,” he admitted, finally looking at her. “But now that I’m here… I can’t imagine wanting to leave.”

She stared at him, her expression unreadable. The quiet stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, she sighed again, softer this time.

“Fine,” she said, stepping toward the door. “But if anyone asks, I don’t know why you’re here, and I definitely didn’t bring you.”

She pushed the door open, stepping inside with a cautious glance behind her. Charles followed, ducking slightly to avoid the low wooden beam over the doorway. Before she could say a word, a voice called from inside.

“Back already? I thought you—”

The voice cut off as a man, younger than Charles but older than the servant girl, appeared from the far corner of the small room. He froze, his sharp blue eyes flicking between her and the prince. “What in God’s name…”

“Damn it!” she hissed, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I thought you were working the late shift at the docks tonight!”

“I was,” her brother said, stepping forward and squaring his shoulders. His rough shirt and patched trousers bore the telltale marks of dock work—salt stains and grime clung to the fabric. “But the shipment was cancelled. Now you tell me why the bloody prince of Monaco is in our house. Did you kidnap him?”

“Kidnap him?” she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “Don’t be ridiculous. He followed me!”

Charles, for his part, seemed utterly unconcerned by the commotion. His gaze wandered over the small room with childlike fascination, taking in the chipped table, the cracked ceramic plates stacked neatly in the corner, and the patchwork curtain separating the single sleeping area. He paused to admire a string of dried herbs hanging near the hearth, as though he’d never seen anything so fascinating.

“Your Highness,” the brother said, stepping in front of him with an awkward, hesitant bow. “I mean no disrespect, but do you… do you need me to call someone? Or are you in danger?” He looked over his shoulder at his sister. “Are we in danger?”

“No one is in danger,” Charles replied, his voice calm. He turned to her brother with a polite nod. “Thank you for your concern. I’m here of my own accord.”

The girl pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath. Meanwhile, Charles’ eyes landed on a wooden crate near the wall, and before either sibling could stop him, he lowered himself onto it. The crate creaked but held, and he leaned back with a sigh, a serene smile spreading across his face.

The girl spun on him, her exasperation bubbling over. “What are you smiling about?”

He looked up at her, his expression earnest, almost boyish. “It’s beautiful.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Here,” he said, gesturing around the room. “It’s so cosy. Everything has its place. It’s warm, lived-in… peaceful.”

Her brother raised an eyebrow, clearly sceptical. “You call this beautiful? Your palace is five hundred times the size, and you think this is—”

“I know what my palace is,” Charles interrupted, though his tone held no irritation. “Cold. Grand. Silent. This… this feels alive.”

She crossed her arms, her brow furrowing as she stared at him. For a moment, she didn’t know whether to laugh or scold him. “It’s a shack,” she said finally, her voice softer but still tinged with disbelief.

“Maybe,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “But it’s your shack. And it’s more honest than anything I’ve ever known.”

Her brother exchanged a glance with her, his expression suggesting that he thought the prince might have lost his mind. She only shook her head, sighing heavily as she walked to the table and placed her basket down.

“This is a mistake,” she muttered to herself.

“Perhaps,” Charles said, still smiling, “but it’s the best mistake I’ve made in a long time.”

She busied herself unpacking the basket, placing a few withered carrots, a handful of potatoes, and some crusty bread onto the table. Her brother leaned against the wall, arms crossed, still watching Charles with wary eyes.

“If you’re staying, Your Highness,” she said, her tone clipped as she focused on the food, “I hope you don’t mind scraps.” She hesitated, then glanced at him. “And you can’t tell anyone at the palace that I take the extras. They’d—”

“Dismiss you,” Charles finished, his voice soft. “I won’t tell. You have my word.”

She gave a small nod, her shoulders relaxing slightly, and began peeling the potatoes. Her hands moved deftly, her brother stepping in to fetch water from the small barrel near the door. Charles sat quietly on his makeshift chair, watching the two of them work in a rhythm.

“Do you need help?” he asked after a moment.

Her brother let out a short laugh, but she only shook her head without looking up. “No, Your Highness, but thank you for the offer. I imagine peeling potatoes is beneath you.”

“Not everything is beneath me,” he replied, and while his voice was carrying a hint of dry humour, there was some seriousness to it.

She didn’t respond, but a faint smile tugged at her lips as she chopped the vegetables and tossed them into a battered pot over the small fire. Soon, the room filled with the simple, comforting aroma of soup.

When the meal was ready, she placed three mismatched bowls on the table and ladled out the steaming broth. She set one in front of Charles without ceremony, then handed one to her brother before sitting down herself.

Charles took a tentative sip, and his eyes widened slightly. “This is excellent.”

Her brother snorted. “It’s boiled scraps, mate. You must really have it rough if you think this is fine dining.”

“Max,” she warned, shooting her brother a glare.

Charles chuckled, dipping a chunk of the crusty bread into the soup. “Maybe it’s not fine dining,” he admitted, “but it tastes real. Honest.”

Her brother rolled his eyes but said nothing more, focusing on his meal. The three of them ate in relative silence, the tension in the room easing slightly as the warmth of the food spread through them.

When the bowls were empty, she cleared the table, stacking the dishes neatly on a small shelf. Charles leaned back, his contented smile returning as he watched her move about the room.

“You should go,” she said finally, her voice breaking the quiet. She didn’t turn to face him.

His smile faltered. “I don’t want to.”

Her hands paused for a moment before she resumed tidying the table. “You’ve seen what you wanted to see. This is my life. And you… you have your own life waiting for you back there.”

Charles stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves. “I suppose you’re right,” he said softly.

She walked toward the door, not meeting his eyes as she grabbed her cloak and gestured for him to follow. Her brother gave Charles a long, unreadable look as he rose to leave, but he said nothing, only shaking his head as the prince ducked back out into the cool night air.

They walked in silence down the dirt path, the lights of the palace glowing faintly in the distance. When they reached the servants’ gate, she stopped and turned to him, keeping her eyes on the ground.

“This is where we part ways,” she said firmly.

He took a step closer, and when she looked up, she saw something in his expression—gratitude, yes, but something deeper, too. Without a word, he reached for her hand, his touch gentle. He held it for a moment, his thumb brushing lightly over her calloused fingers.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity. “For the soup. For everything.”

Before she could respond, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. The gesture was brief, but it sent a wave of warmth up her arm, leaving her stunned.

He stepped back, releasing her hand, and gave her one last look before slipping through the gate and disappearing into the shadows.

She stood there for a long time, staring at the empty path, her heart racing for reasons she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—name.

The next few days at the palace dragged on in a monotonous blur for Charles. His mornings were filled with tiresome meetings about the engagement, his afternoons with rigid etiquette lessons to prepare for public appearances with Princess Evelyn. Every second felt like a tightening noose around his neck.

Finally, the day came for him to meet her. Princess Evelyn of England arrived with her entourage in an ornate carriage, her entrance every bit as grand as expected. She was perfectly polite, perfectly poised—and, to Charles, perfectly insipid.

They sat across from each other in one of the palace’s many drawing rooms, chaperoned by a small battalion of attendants and his ever-watchful parents. She spoke at length about her family lineage, her charity work, and her plans to modernise court life, but her words washed over him like a stream of lukewarm water.

When it was his turn to speak, he managed only the barest pleasantries. He was certain she noticed his lack of enthusiasm, but if it bothered her, she gave no indication.

By the end of the meeting, he felt more drained than he had in years. As she curtsied and left the room, he caught his mother’s pointed glare, but he ignored it.

Before she could say anything to him, he glanced at the ornate clock on his wall. It was nearly the same time as the day she would be fluffing the pillows on his settee. A peculiar sense of anticipation stirred in his chest.

Without a second thought, he made his way to his bedroom. As he opened the door, his eyes immediately fell on her.

She was there, as if summoned by some unspoken wish. She was standing by the settee, her back to him as she carefully fluffed the pillows. Her movements were deliberate, methodical, and entirely unlike the flurry of maids bustling about elsewhere in the palace.

A slow smile spread across his face.

“Perfect timing,” he said loudly, causing her to jump slightly.

She turned, clutching the pillow to her chest. “Your Highness!” she said, startled. “I— I can come back later if—”

“Don’t bother,” he interrupted dramatically, throwing himself onto the bed with a theatrical sigh.

She froze, unsure whether to be amused or annoyed, as he sprawled across the silk covers, one arm flung over his face.

“Let me tell you about the most dreadful afternoon of my life,” he groaned.

Her brow furrowed as she set the pillow back in place. “The dreadful afternoon where you met the woman you’re going to marry?”

“Precisely,” he said, sitting up slightly to gesture at her. “You understand my plight already.”

“I understand you’re being ridiculous,” she replied, smoothing the cushions on the settee.

“Ridiculous?!” he exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart. “Do you know what she said when I asked her about her favourite pastime?”

“I don’t,” she said flatly, clearly trying to stay focused on her task.

“She said,” he continued, his voice dripping with mock enthusiasm, “Oh, I do adore embroidery. There’s something so meditative about it.”

She stared at him. “That… doesn’t sound terrible.”

He sat up fully now, gesturing emphatically. “Doesn’t sound terrible? It’s horrific! What am I to do with someone who finds stitching flowers onto fabric the height of excitement?”

“You could try embroidery yourself,” she suggested dryly, unable to resist a small smirk.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Very funny. No, what I need is someone who… who challenges me. Someone with fire.”

She arched an eyebrow but said nothing, turning back to the pillows.

“Instead,” he muttered, flopping back onto the bed, “I’m shackled to a walking lesson in decorum.”

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the soft rustle of fabric as she adjusted the settee. Finally, she turned to face him fully, her expression unreadable.

“Maybe,” she said carefully, “you should spend less time thinking about what you don’t like about her and more time figuring out what you’re looking for.”

Charles opened one eye to glance at her. “And if what I’m looking for isn’t an option?”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, something unspoken passing between them. Then, she shook her head and turned back to her work.

“Then you make do,” she said simply.

He watched her for a long moment, his chest tightening inexplicably.

“Is that what you do?” he asked softly.

She paused but didn’t turn around. “Every day, Your Highness.”

Without another word, she grabbed her items and walked out, softly closing the door behind her.

Charles had barely settled back on the bed, still pondering her cryptic answer, when the door to his chambers burst open.

His younger brother, Arthur, strode in, his golden hair slightly dishevelled and a boyish grin plastered across his face. “Charles! I just saw her—the princess of England. She’s… stunning. Gorgeous. A masterpiece, really. You lucky bastard.”

Charles groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Arthur, must you always barge in uninvited?”

Arthur ignored him, plopping himself unceremoniously into one of the velvet chairs near the fireplace. “I mean it. If I were you, I’d have proposed on the spot. Did you see her eyes? Like polished emeralds.”

“She’s… fine,” Charles muttered, his tone flat.

“Fine?” Arthur’s voice rose in mock indignation. “Brother, I’d trade places with you in an instant.” He leaned forward, his grin widening. “What is it? Not enough excitement for you? Too… proper?”

Charles sat up, his expression exasperated. “If you find her so attractive, Arthur, marry her yourself.”

Arthur laughed, clearly amused by the suggestion. “Oh, if only it worked that way. But alas, you are the crown prince. The heir. The one who gets the girl and the throne, while I’m left to look charming at parties.”

Charles shook his head, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He couldn’t help but wonder how different his life might be if the roles were reversed. Could Arthur really be happy living a life of obligation, of gilded cages and loveless arrangements?

His thoughts drifted, unbidden, back to the servant girl. Her small house, her laughter with her brother over bowls of soup, the way she moved through life with an independence he’d never known.

“What would it be like,” he murmured, almost to himself, “to marry someone who isn’t royalty? Someone who isn’t bound by these ridiculous rules?”

Arthur blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. Then he laughed, loud and incredulous. “Are you out of your mind?”

Charles turned his head sharply, fixing his brother with a challenging look. “I’m serious. What would it be like to marry a commoner? To live a life free of all this… pomp and pretence?”

Arthur’s laughter faded, replaced by a look of disbelief. “You are mad. Do you have any idea what that would mean? The scandal? The uproar? Father would have a fit. Mother would faint on the spot. And the people? They’d riot.”

“Would they?” Charles asked, his tone calm but insistent. “Or would they understand? Would they respect a prince who chose love over duty?”

Arthur shook his head, a faint sneer creeping into his expression. “You don’t know what you’re saying. A prince doesn’t marry a milkmaid or a seamstress. It’s not a fairytale, Charles. We’re not… like them.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp.

“Not like them,” Charles repeated softly, his voice carrying a hint of disdain. “And what exactly does that mean?”

Arthur hesitated, then shrugged, as if the answer were obvious. “It means we have a responsibility. A legacy to uphold. Marrying into royalty isn’t just tradition—it’s survival. You think Father and Mother arranged your engagement for fun?”

Charles didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back against the headboard, his mind churning. Arthur’s words grated against something deep within him, something that longed to push back against the boundaries of their carefully constructed world.

“Maybe,” he said finally, his voice low, “the legacy isn’t worth the cost.”

Arthur stared at him, his disbelief giving way to concern. “Charles… you’ve been spending too much time alone. Or worse—reading poetry again. Get your head out of the clouds, brother. This is your life. Learn to accept it.”

With that, Arthur rose, clapping Charles on the shoulder before striding toward the door. “And if you won’t,” he added with a grin, “I’ll gladly keep the princess company. You’re a fool not to appreciate her.”

The door closed behind him, leaving Charles alone in the echoing silence of his chambers.

But his mind wasn’t silent.

It churned, restless and defiant, filled with images of a life he might never know.

The chill of the autumn night bit at Charles’s skin as he hurried along the winding path toward the small house. A week had passed, and though he told himself repeatedly that it was improper—foolish, even—he couldn’t shake the gnawing thought of her.

He hadn’t seen her since their last conversation in his chambers. Every day without her had stretched longer than the last. No wry comments while she smoothed the wrinkles from his sheets, no gentle jabs at his dramatics.

The house appeared before him, small and humble against the starlit sky. Light peeked through the cracks in the shutters.

He hesitated, his heart pounding. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked.

The door opened a crack, her face appearing in the dim light. The moment she recognised him, her eyes widened in alarm, and she yanked him inside, shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Your Highness!” she whispered fiercely, pressing her back against the door as though to block the outside world. “Are you out of your mind? I’ll be hung if they find you at my door!”

He tried to smile, though he knew she was right. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

Her expression turned exasperated. “That’s not a valid reason to sneak out of the palace, Prince Charles.”

“Isn’t it?” he countered lightly, though the heat rising in his cheeks betrayed the truth of how much he’d missed her.

Her sigh was heavy with frustration, but something softened in her gaze. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said again, though her voice lacked its earlier sharpness. She moved away from the door, adjusting the shawl around her shoulders.

It was then that he noticed the redness around her nose, the slight rasp in her voice.

“You’ve been ill,” he said, stepping closer.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, waving him off as she moved toward the small kitchen space. “A cold. Happens every year when the weather turns. I’ll survive.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he said quietly, glancing around the room.

“Life doesn’t wait for the sniffles,” she said with a faint smirk, though her movements were slower than usual as she reached for a bowl.

“Then let me help,” he said, surprising both of them.

She turned, raising an eyebrow. “You? Help? What do you know about cooking?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he admitted, grinning. “But I’m an excellent student.”

She stared at him for a moment, as though deciding whether to humour him. Finally, she handed him a knife and motioned toward a small pile of vegetables. “Fine. Peel those. Try not to cut yourself.”

He took the knife gingerly, studying the carrot as if it were a puzzle. She chuckled softly, the sound warming the small space, and stepped beside him to show him the proper angle for peeling.

The next hour passed in a flurry of quiet laughter and careful instructions. He fumbled with the knife, his first attempts earning teasing remarks from her, but he improved quickly under her guidance. Together, they chopped, stirred, and seasoned until the small pot on the stove began to bubble with a fragrant stew.

As they worked, the conversation drifted.

“You’re better at this than I expected,” she said, handing him a spoon to stir.

He smiled. “Careful. If you keep complimenting me, I might come back for more lessons.”

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Cooking isn’t glamorous work, Your Highness. It’s just… survival.”

“Maybe,” he said, his tone thoughtful, “but there’s something… grounding about it. It feels real.”

She looked at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You really hate that palace life, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead focusing on the steady motion of the spoon in the pot. “I don’t hate it,” he said eventually. “It’s just… hollow. Every decision is made for me. Every word is calculated. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be in all of it.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze distant. “You’re lucky, though,” she said softly. “Even if it’s hollow, you have a place. A name. People like me… we’re just the shadows keeping the fire alive.”

He stopped stirring, her words settling heavily in the space between them. “I don’t think that’s true,” he said after a moment.

She tilted her head, her expression sceptical. “No?”

“No,” he said firmly. “You’re more than that. You’re clever. Strong. Independent. You see things I never could.”

She blinked, taken aback by the conviction in his voice.

“That’s what I like about you,” he added softly, almost without thinking.

The words hung in the air, and he froze, realising too late what he’d said.

Her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and she turned away quickly, pretending to adjust the pot on the stove.

His own face burned as he fumbled for something to say, but nothing came. The silence stretched on, heavy and charged, until she finally spoke, her voice quieter than before.

“You should taste the stew,” she said, not looking at him.

He stepped forward, dipping the spoon into the pot and taking a tentative sip.

“It’s perfect,” he said, his voice softer now.

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, though she still didn’t meet his gaze.

The evening deepened, the chill of the autumn air seeping through the thin walls of the small house. Charles noticed her slight shiver as she ladled the stew into two mismatched bowls, the threadbare shawl around her shoulders doing little to shield her from the cold.

He stood abruptly, unfastening the clasp of his heavy cloak. She turned to look at him, startled, as he stepped behind her and draped it gently over her shoulders.

“What are you doing?” she asked, pulling the thick fabric around herself instinctively.

“You’re cold,” he said simply, sitting back down and picking up his bowl.

She hesitated, looking at him with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. “But you’ll freeze without it.”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied with a small smile. “I’ve survived colder nights, army and all of that.”

The warmth of the cloak seemed to envelop her, and she relaxed slightly, sitting down across from him. For a moment, they ate in silence, the quiet clinking of their spoons the only sound.

When their bowls were empty, Charles glanced around the modest room, noticing for the first time the lack of a hearthfire.

“Do you light a fire at night?” he asked, though he already suspected the answer.

She shook her head. “Can’t afford firewood,” she said matter-of-factly, collecting their bowls. “It’s not so bad. We manage.”

“Oh,” was all he managed to say, though the thought of her and her brother enduring nights in such cold unsettled him deeply.

She didn’t seem to notice his reaction, busying herself with tidying up.

Later, as he prepared to leave, she hesitated by the door, holding his cloak out to him.

“Take this back,” she said softly.

He pushed her hand gently back toward her. “Keep it,” he insisted. “For tonight.”

She opened her mouth to argue but stopped, the words faltering. Finally, she nodded, her fingers tightening around the fabric.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

He smiled at her one last time before stepping out into the night, the chill biting at him instantly as he made his way back to the palace.

She played with the royal clasp of his cloak as he left and wondered what her life would be like if she wasn’t just a servant and he wasn’t the Crown Prince of Monaco.

No less than a few days later, her brother barged into the small house, his footsteps heavy against the creaking floorboards.

“Why,” he began, his voice loud and incredulous, “is there months’ worth of firewood outside the house?”

She looked up from where she was patching a worn-out scarf, distracted. “What are you talking about?”

“The firewood,” he repeated, gesturing wildly toward the door. “There’s a mountain of it, just sitting there! Did you rob a lumberyard?”

She frowned, setting down her work and walking to the door. When she stepped outside, her eyes widened at the sight of the neatly stacked pile of firewood by the side of the house.

“I… I don’t know,” she stammered, completely bewildered.

It was then that she noticed a small slip of paper tucked into the top of the stack. Pulling it free, she unfolded it to reveal a note written in a familiar, elegant hand.

Keep warm – C

Her cheeks flushed, and a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

Her brother leaned over her shoulder, reading the note. “C?” he asked suspiciously. “Who’s C?”

She folded the note quickly, tucking it into her apron pocket. “No one,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

Her brother narrowed his eyes but didn’t press further, shaking his head as he muttered something about princes and their peculiarities.

She was fluffing the pillows on the freshly made bed when the door to the prince’s chambers swung open. Charles strode in, his expression lighting up the moment he saw her. Without hesitation, he leapt onto the bed, landing with a dramatic bounce that sent a pillow tumbling to the floor.

“You’re back!” he exclaimed, grinning. “And you’re better!”

“And you just ruined the bed I made.” she chided but then moved on to adjusting a vase on the side table. “Well I must say, a lit fire at night changes a whole lot.”

He froze for a fraction of a second, then sat up, feigning ignorance with an exaggerated shrug. “Oh? A fire, you say? That’s… good to hear. Fires are quite helpful, I’m told.”

Her smirk widened. “I’m sure someone told you that.”

“Perhaps,” he said, swinging his legs off the bed and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But we’re not here to discuss firewood logistics, are we?”

She rolled her eyes, walking around the room to dust the mantel. “Then what would you like to discuss, Your Highness?”

He sighed heavily, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm over his face. “The princess of England.”

She raised an eyebrow, glancing over at him. “Oh?”

“I have to meet her again,” he groaned. “Another tea, another tedious conversation about fabrics or her needlework or some other mind-numbing topic. I swear, I’d rather duel blindfolded than sit through it.”

She snorted, biting back a laugh. “Blindfolded? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“No,” he said, peeking at her from under his arm. “It’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Of course it is,” she said, her tone dripping with mock sincerity. “Because what’s more reasonable than a prince skewering himself just to avoid small talk?”

He sat up, clutching his chest theatrically. “You wound me, madam. Truly, your lack of sympathy is cruel.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, shaking her head as she set the duster aside. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he replied, grinning.

She turned back to the mantel, but when the silence stretched, she glanced over her shoulder. He was watching her, his expression soft, his eyes warm and intent.

Her brow furrowed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He blinked, snapping out of his reverie, and quickly looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t looking at you.”

“You absolutely were,” she said, crossing her arms and giving him a suspicious look.

“No, I was… thinking,” he said, his voice a touch too casual.

She arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Thinking about what?”

“About…” He scrambled for an answer, then pointed toward the bed. “About how well you made this bed. Truly impressive. Best I’ve ever seen.”

She rolled her eyes again, but a faint blush crept into her cheeks. “Right,” she said, picking up her duster. “Well, I’ll leave you to your very important thinking, then.”

He watched her go, his chest tightening as the door clicked softly shut behind her.

Over the next few days, Charles found himself increasingly distracted. Whether strolling through the palace gardens or enduring another tiresome tea with the princess, his thoughts invariably drifted to her. The way her wit kept him on his toes. The quiet determination in her movements. The occasional flicker of softness beneath her sharp remarks.

It was maddening.

When he was near her, he found excuses to linger. When she wasn’t around, he searched for her without realising it. And as much as he tried to push the growing ache in his chest aside, he couldn’t deny what was happening.

He’d fallen for her.

It was late afternoon when he returned to his chambers after a gruelling diplomatic meeting. To his delight, she was there, dusting the intricate carvings on the wooden frame of his bed. She didn’t notice him enter, humming softly to herself as she worked.

He leaned casually against the doorframe, watching her for a moment before clearing his throat.

She jumped, spinning around to face him, clutching her duster like a weapon. “Do you have to sneak up on me?”

“It’s my room,” he said, smirking. “I can hardly sneak into my own space.”

She scowled, turning back to her work. “You’re insufferable.”

“So you’ve said,” he replied, stepping further into the room. “But you keep coming back. Perhaps I’m growing on you.”

“I come back because it’s my job,” she retorted, moving to dust a nearby shelf.

He followed her, leaning lazily against the furniture. “A job you seem to excel at. Though I wonder… do you enjoy tormenting me as much as I enjoy tormenting you?”

She shot him a sharp glance, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “Someone has to keep your ego in check, Your Highness.”

He chuckled, reaching out to pluck the duster from her hand. “You do it so well,” he murmured, his voice low.

Her breath hitched slightly as he leaned closer, her eyes darting to his before flicking away. “You should stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” he asked, his voice soft and teasing as he leaned closer still, his face mere inches from hers.

“Whatever it is you’re doing,” she said, stepping back slightly, only to find herself against the edge of the shelf.

The tension in the air was palpable, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His gaze was locked on hers, and for a moment, the world outside the room seemed to vanish.

A sharp knock on the door shattered the moment.

“Charles?” his brother’s voice called from the hallway.

Panic flared in her eyes, and Charles acted on instinct, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward the large wardrobe at the side of the room.

“What are you—” she began, but he pressed a finger to her lips as he opened the wardrobe door and ushered her inside.

The space was small, barely enough for the two of them. She pressed herself against the back wall as he stepped in, closing the door behind them.

The darkness was absolute, and the only sound was the quiet shuffle of their breaths.

“Stay quiet,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

A beat passed, and she whispered back, her voice laced with frustration, “If we get caught, it’ll be my neck, not yours.”

“No one’s getting caught,” he murmured, his voice low and steady.

In the confined space, his hand brushed against hers, and he froze. Slowly, almost hesitantly, his fingers moved to her face. His touch was light, tentative, as though he feared she might vanish at any moment.

His thumb traced the curve of her cheek, brushing against her skin with agonising slowness. Her breath hitched, and in the silence, it felt deafening.

“Why are you…” she began, but her voice faltered as his fingers brushed the line of her jaw, lingering there for a moment before sliding to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“You’re too close,” she replied, though her tone lacked conviction.

The faintest smile curved his lips, though she couldn’t see it in the dark. “You’re not stopping me,” he said softly.

Before she could respond, his brother’s voice echoed from the other side of the room. “Charles, where are you?”

He leaned closer, his forehead nearly brushing hers. “Stay still,” he murmured, his hand still cradling her cheek.

She closed her eyes, the tension in the small space suffocating and electric all at once.

Footsteps receded as his brother left the room, grumbling something about missing him.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then, Charles let out a slow breath, his hand dropping from her face. He opened the wardrobe door slightly, letting in the dim light of the room.

“Safe,” he said quietly, stepping back to let her out.

She stepped past him, her cheeks flushed and her breaths uneven. “You’re reckless,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze as she hurried to gather her duster.

He smirked, leaning against the wardrobe door. “And you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

She shot him a glare over her shoulder, but the pink in her cheeks betrayed her.

“Get back to work, Your Highness,” she said, her tone sharp but her voice unsteady.

He chuckled softly, watching her go.

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Charles’s chambers, painting golden streaks across the plush rug. She was there again, this time at his desk, meticulously polishing the brass handles of the drawers. She worked with the same quiet efficiency she always did, her movements steady, purposeful.

Charles, reclining lazily on the settee, had been pretending to read a book for the past ten minutes. In truth, he’d barely turned a page. His attention was drawn, as it so often was these days, to her.

He cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “Have you ever taken a moment to rest?”

She glanced at him briefly before returning to her task. “I rest when my work is done.”

“And when is it done?” he pressed, setting the book down and rising to his feet.

She didn’t answer immediately, her focus still on the brass handle in her hand. “When your chambers sparkle, Your Highness.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “It already sparkles. You’ve polished this desk so many times I can see my reflection.”

She huffed softly, clearly unimpressed. “There’s still dust.”

He reached out, his hand gently brushing hers as she gripped the cloth. She stilled, her breath catching as his fingers lingered over hers.

“You’re relentless,” he murmured, his voice low.

Her eyes flicked to his, wide and uncertain. “And you’re in my way.”

He smiled, his expression teasing but his gaze intent. “I’m rarely in anyone’s way. It’s a novelty.”

She tried to step back, but he moved with her, closing the distance between them. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Observing,” he said, his voice soft, warm, as if he were sharing a secret. “You’re endlessly fascinating to watch, you know.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, but he reached out, gently tilting her chin so she’d meet his eyes again.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she said, her voice shaky.

“Why not?”

“Because…” She faltered, her lips parting as she searched for words. “Because you shouldn’t.”

He leaned in slightly, his hand still holding her chin. The air between them was heavy, charged with something neither of them dared name.

“You’re trembling again,” he said softly, the corner of his mouth lifting in the faintest of smiles.

“I’m not,” she said quickly, but her voice betrayed her.

“You are,” he whispered, his thumb brushing her jaw in the lightest of touches.

Her breath hitched, and her hands tightened around the cloth she still held. “This is dangerous,” she managed, though her tone was weak.

“For you?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “Or for me?”

She couldn’t answer, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain he could hear it.

His hand moved, the backs of his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek, then down to her neck, where his thumb rested lightly against her pulse. He felt it hammering beneath his touch and smiled softly, almost as if he were marvelling at it.

“You feel it too,” he said, his voice low and intimate, as if the world beyond this moment didn’t exist.

She swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she finally pushed lightly at his chest. “You… need to stop.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, his gaze locked on hers. Then, slowly, he stepped back, though the tension in the air lingered like a storm about to break.

She turned away quickly, grabbing her cloth and pretending to busy herself with the desk again, though her hands shook so much she nearly dropped it.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice stopping her in her tracks.

She didn’t turn back to him, but she nodded slightly, her voice quiet. “Don’t do it again.”

But neither of them believed that.

That night the crackle of the fire in the grand drawing room filled the silence as Charles poured himself another glass of brandy. His younger brother lounged in the chair across from him, a glass already in hand.

��You’ve been distracted lately,” Arthur said, swirling his drink. “Even more so than usual.”

Charles leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath him. “Have I?”

Arthur arched an eyebrow. “You spent half of tea with the English delegation yesterday staring at the window. I’m pretty sure they could have declared war, and you wouldn’t have noticed.”

Charles chuckled, though it lacked his usual mirth. He stared into his glass, the amber liquid catching the firelight.

“Arthur,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

His brother tilted his head, curious. “What?”

“What would you think of… being the next heir to the throne?”

Arthur blinked, then laughed, loud and incredulous. “What, you’re not planning on dying anytime soon, are you?”

“No,” Charles said, shaking his head, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

Arthur leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “Then why would you ask that?”

Charles swirled his drink, his gaze distant. “Just… wondering.”

Arthur snorted, leaning back again. “Abdicating is social suicide. If you’re even entertaining the thought, I’d advise you to stop immediately.”

Charles stayed silent, his thumb brushing idly along the rim of his glass.

The quiet stretched, and Arthur froze mid-drink, lowering his glass to the table with a sharp clink. His eyes widened, and his voice dropped. “You’re not thinking of abdicating… are you?”

Charles didn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he stared into the fire.

“Cha,” Arthur pressed, his voice rising slightly. “What the hell is going on with you? Who’s put this absurd idea in your head?”

Charles glanced at him, his expression inscrutable. “It’s not absurd.”

“It is when you’re the crown prince of Monaco,” Arthur snapped, sitting up straighter. “You’d give up everything—power, privilege, our family’s legacy—for what? A whim? A fleeting fancy?”

“It’s not a fancy,” Charles said sharply, his voice cutting through the room.

Arthur blinked, taken aback by his brother’s rare flash of anger. “Then what is it?”

Charles leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and staring hard at his brother. “What if I told you it’s something real? That I’ve found something—someone—who makes me feel more alive than anything this throne ever could?”

Arthur’s jaw dropped slightly, his expression caught between shock and disbelief. “You’re serious.”

“Deadly serious,” Charles said, his tone firm.

Arthur exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t just about a servant, is it?”

Charles’s head shot up, his eyes narrowing. “How—”

“Please,” Arthur said, waving a hand. “You think I haven’t noticed? The way you’ve been sneaking out, the looks you give when you think no one’s watching? The firewood? You’re an open book.”

Charles leaned back, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I underestimated you.”

“And you’re underestimating the chaos you’d cause,” Arthur shot back. “Do you have any idea what this would mean for the family? For Monaco?”

Charles’s expression hardened. “For once, I’m thinking about what it would mean for me.”

Arthur stared at him, the firelight casting shadows across his face. “You’d walk away from all of this?”

“If it meant being with her?” Charles said, his voice soft but resolute. “Yes. I would.”

The weight of his words settled over them, and for once, Arthur didn’t have a quick retort.

The next few days were torturous for Charles. Each moment stretched longer than the last, his thoughts dominated by her. Every step he took through the palace halls felt meaningless without catching sight of her—her quick smile, her quiet resolve, the way she challenged him without fear.

He thought of her words, her laughter, the way her cheeks flushed when he teased her. More than that, he thought of the way she made him feel—seen, understood, even cherished in a way that no title or crown could replicate.

His heart ached with the weight of it, with the need to tell her, to unburden himself of the truth that had taken root so deeply he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

But how? How could he look her in the eye and admit what he was so sure would unravel the tenuous balance between them?

One morning, he found himself wandering aimlessly through the palace gardens. It was the time of day she often brought fresh linens from the storage to the castle, she usually crossed the gardens. He lingered, hoping for a glimpse of her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Frustrated, he returned to his chambers, pacing the space restlessly, thinking. No, waiting to next see her. When she finally arrived, carrying a tray of fresh tea and biscuits, his breath hitched.

“You’re pacing,” she said, placing the tray on the table. “That’s never a good sign.”

“I’ve been restless,” he admitted, stopping mid-stride. “And you’re late.”

She raised an eyebrow as she set the tea. “Didn’t know I was on your schedule.”

He crossed the room to her, his steps deliberate. “I notice when you’re not here.”

Her hands stilled for a moment before she resumed arranging the tea things. “I’m just a servant, Your Highness. Surely you have better things to notice.”

“That’s not true,” he said, his voice dropping.

She looked up at him, her expression guarded. “It should be.”

He wanted to argue, to say it wasn’t her place to decide what mattered to him, but the vulnerability in her gaze stopped him. Instead, he changed the subject.

“Have you eaten today?”

She frowned, clearly caught off guard. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’d wager you haven’t,” he said, stepping closer. “You work yourself to the bone.”

She shrugged, turning back to her task. “I’m used to it.”

“That’s not an answer,” he said, his tone softer now. “Come. Sit with me for a moment.”

She hesitated, glancing at the door. “If someone sees—”

“No one will,” he said, moving to pull a chair out for her. “Please.”

Her eyes darted between him and the chair before she sighed, giving in and sitting reluctantly.

He poured her a cup of tea, his movements unhurried. As he handed it to her, their fingers brushed, and he felt the now-familiar spark that always seemed to follow her touch.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said quietly, looking down at the tea.

“Do what?”

“Treat me like I’m someone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Someone important.”

His chest tightened. “You are.”

She looked up at him then, her eyes wide, filled with a mix of disbelief and something else—something that made his breath catch.

For a moment, he thought about saying it, about laying it all out before her. But the words caught in his throat, weighed down by the fear of what her reaction might be.

The next day, Charles found himself waiting for her in his chambers again, anticipation thrumming through him. When she arrived, her arms full of fresh linens, he immediately noticed the faint circles under her eyes.

“You’re overworking yourself again,” he said, standing from his seat near the window.

“I’m fine,” she replied, her tone brisk as she moved to change the bedding.

“You’re not,” he countered, moving closer.

She straightened, turning to face him. “Why do you care?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken truths.

“Because…” He hesitated, his hands flexing at his sides as he struggled to find the right words. “Because you matter to me.”

Her lips parted, her breath catching. “Charles, don’t—”

“I’m not trying to overstep,” he said quickly. “But you should know—I can’t ignore it anymore.”

“Ignore what?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. She stepped back instinctively, breaking the moment.

Over the next few days, he was quieter, more pensive. He found himself watching her more often, the words he wanted to say always on the tip of his tongue. But every time he opened his mouth, the weight of the risks stopped him.

What if she didn’t feel the same? What if she did, but couldn’t say so?

The questions tormented him, each one drawing him closer to the inevitable conclusion: he had to tell her.

But how could he make her understand the depth of his feelings without ruining everything?

Charles really tried to wait it out, he tried so hard.

But when the rain lashed outside his chambers where he sat in the dimly lit room, the fire crackling softly in the hearth.

He worried.

It was late, far later than when she usually came, but he had waited, a knot of tension in his chest.

When the door finally opened, and she stepped inside with her usual quiet grace, drenched from the rain with his laundry in a covered basket, his heart leapt.

“You’re soaked,” he said, standing quickly. “You shouldn’t be out in this weather.”

She shrugged, setting the basket down by the door. “Work doesn’t stop for a storm, Your Highness.”

He frowned, crossing the room to her. “Take off that cloak; you’ll catch your death.”

“I’m fine,” she said, brushing past him toward the hearth, but her shivering betrayed her words.

He moved closer, pulling her gently toward the warmth of the fire. “Why do you always insist on pretending you’re fine when you’re not?”

She stiffened under his touch. “Because I have no other choice.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected. He reached for her hands, his thumbs brushing over her cold fingers. “You shouldn’t have to live like this.”

She pulled her hands back, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and caution. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He hesitated, his heart pounding. “I can’t keep pretending. Not anymore.”

“Pretending what?” she asked, her voice quiet but steady.

“That I don’t feel this,” he said, stepping closer. “That I don’t feel everything for you.”

Her eyes widened, her breath catching. “Charles…”

“I love you,” he said, the words tumbling out, raw and unguarded. “I’ve tried to fight it, to ignore it, but I can’t. I don’t want to.”

Before she could even stop them, tears welled in her eyes, and she shook her head, stepping back. “You don’t mean that. You can’t.”

“I do,” he said firmly, closing the distance between them again. “I’d give up everything—this title, this life—if it meant being with you.”

Her tears spilled over then, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice breaking. “If I’m not happy here—if I can’t have the life I want—what good is any of this?”

“Because you don’t know what you’re saying,” she said, her voice rising. “You’ve lived in a palace your entire life, with servants, banquets, comfort. You don’t know what it’s like to live without it. To go to bed on an empty stomach. To wake up not knowing if you’ll have work the next day. I can’t do that to you.”

“You wouldn’t be doing it to me,” he said desperately. “It would be my choice.”

She shook her head again, her tears falling faster now. “And what happens when you realise you can’t live like that? When the reality of it sets in? You’ll resent me. And I’ll lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” he said, his voice pleading as he reached for her hands again. “I swear to you, you won’t.”

“I don’t have a good life,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I can barely take care of myself. How could I take care of you?”

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” he said, his hands tightening around hers. “I just need you. I don’t care about the rest.”

She looked at him, her eyes searching his, her tears glistening in the firelight. “You’re asking me to believe in something that feels impossible.”

“Then let me prove it to you,” he said, his voice breaking as his own tears threatened to fall. “Please. Give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me. Let me love you the way you deserve.”

Her resolve wavered, her breath hitching as his words sank in. She wanted to believe him—desperately—but the fear of what they would face, of what they would lose, loomed over her.

“Cha…” she began, her voice cracking.

“Please,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. “Say yes. Just… say yes.”

For a long, agonising moment, the only sound was the rain pounding against the windows and the crackle of the fire.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she said finally, her voice barely audible.

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said, cupping her face gently, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “But don’t push me away. Not now. Not when I know you feel this too.”

Her lips quivered, and she closed her eyes, a fresh tear slipping down her cheek. “You’re impossible,” she whispered.

“And you’re everything,” he replied, his voice trembling with emotion.

After pacing around his room for a few days, thinking of how he was going to tell his father, Charles went to his study.

The atmosphere in the king’s study was heavy with tension, the air almost crackling as Charles stood before his father. The older man sat behind an imposing mahogany desk, his expression dark and unreadable. The storm that had raged days earlier seemed to have shifted inside these walls, centering on the room as if the universe sensed the coming conflict.

“I need to speak with you,” Charles began, his voice steady but tight.

The king set down the pen he had been holding, his gaze sharp. “This sounds serious.”

“It is,” Charles replied, straightening his shoulders. “I’ve made a decision.”

The king leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “I see. Go on, then.”

“I’m going to abdicate.”

For a moment, the words seemed to hang in the air, the weight of them pressing down on the room.

Then, the king’s expression darkened further, his voice sharp and incredulous. “You’re what?”

“I’ve decided I don’t want the throne,” Charles said firmly. “It’s not the life I want anymore.”

The king rose from his chair, his movements slow and deliberate as he loomed over the desk. “Do you even understand what you’re saying? What you’re throwing away?”

“Yes,” Charles said, meeting his father’s gaze without flinching. “I’ve thought about this—more than you know. I don’t want this life. I want…” He hesitated, his voice softening. “I want to live my own life.”

The king scoffed, shaking his head. “And what life would that be? One of obscurity? Of poverty? You’ve never gone a day without comfort, without privilege. You know nothing of what it’s like out there, and you think you can just… give all of this up?”

“I do,” Charles said, his tone resolute.

The king’s eyes narrowed. “This is about her, isn’t it? That servant girl. Your mother mentioned her but I did not believe her.”

Charles’s chest tightened, but he didn’t deny it. “Yes. It’s about her. But it’s also about me. About what I want, who I want to be. And I know I don’t want this.”

“Don’t be a fool,” the king snapped, his voice rising. “You think love is enough to sustain you? That some fantasy of a simpler life will keep you warm when reality sets in? She can’t give you what you need, Charles.”

“She gives me what I want,” Charles shot back, his voice fierce. “And for once, isn’t that enough?”

“No, it isn’t!” the king roared, slamming his hand on the desk. “You’re a prince! You have a duty—to your family, to your people. You can’t just walk away because of some fleeting infatuation.”

“It’s not fleeting,” Charles said, his voice dropping but losing none of its intensity. “I love her. And I’d rather live a life with her—whatever that looks like—than spend one more moment pretending to be happy here.”

The king laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You’re naïve. You don’t even know how to survive out there.”

“She’ll teach me,” Charles said, surprising even himself with the certainty in his voice. “I want to learn. I want that life—with her.”

The king stared at him, his face a mixture of disbelief and frustration. “You’re throwing away everything you’ve ever known for a life of struggle. For what?”

“For love,” Charles said simply.

The room fell silent, the only sound the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. The king finally sat back down, rubbing a hand over his face. When he looked up again, his expression was weary but no less stern.

“You’re making a mistake,” he said quietly.

“Maybe,” Charles replied. “But it’s my mistake to make.”

The king’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze searching his son’s face as if looking for a crack in his resolve. But Charles stood firm, his decision made.

“You’ll regret this,” the king said finally, his voice heavy with warning.

“Perhaps,” Charles said. “But I’ll never regret choosing her.”

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the study, leaving his father staring after him in silence.

The rumours spread like wildfire. Whispers followed Charles wherever he walked, his every step trailed by servants and courtiers exchanging furtive glances and hushed speculations. The air in the palace buzzed with the shock of his decision, but none of it mattered to him. Not the disapproval etched into his father’s face, nor the incredulous murmurs of the courtiers. His mind was focused solely on her.

He found her in the palace laundry room, folding linens with the quiet efficiency that always seemed to calm her. When he walked in, she froze, her fingers clutching the corner of a sheet.

“You,” she began, her voice a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. “You really went through with it?”

He stepped closer, his hands tucked behind his back, his face calm but his eyes alight with purpose. “I told you I would.”

She stared at him, shaking her head. “I thought—Charles, I thought it was just talk. Something you’d get over once you realised how insane it is.”

“Well, I’m officially insane,” he said with a faint smile, stepping closer.

She dropped the sheet onto the table and turned to face him fully, her arms crossed. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The crown, the throne, your entire future—it’s gone. All of it. For what?”

“For you,” he said simply.

Her mouth opened, but no words came. Finally, she shook her head, her voice trembling. “You’re impossible. Do you know what this means? I can’t work here anymore, not if you abdicate. The palace won’t keep me.”

“I know,” he said gently. “And I wouldn’t ask you to stay here. We’ll leave—together.”

“Leave?” she echoed, blinking at him.

“Yes,” he said, stepping closer until he was just in front of her. “I’ve been thinking about it. We can go somewhere no one knows us, where we can start fresh.”

She stared at him like he’d grown another head. “Where would we even go?”

“Italy,” he said with a small smile.

“Italy?” she repeated, her brows furrowing.

“Yes, maybe Marenello,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “It’s beautiful, the weather is perfect, and… I don’t know, it just feels right.”

She let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “Charles, I don’t even speak Italian.”

He tilted his head, his smile widening. “Then, for once, I’ll get to teach you something.”

His words hung in the air, so tender and unexpected that she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. The corners of his eyes crinkled at her reaction, and before she could say anything else, he stepped even closer and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

She closed her eyes, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through her. “You’re serious about this,” she whispered.

“Completely,” he murmured against her hair. “I’m not afraid of starting over, not if it’s with you.”

For a moment, she let herself believe it could be possible—this crazy, impossible dream of theirs.

“When?” she asked softly.

“Tomorrow,” he said, his voice full of quiet resolve. “After I sign the abdication papers.”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with wide, searching eyes. “And then what?”

He smiled, his expression both calm and full of determination. “And then we start the life we’ve always wanted.”

She didn’t want to be vulgar, she really didn’t but she had to be honest.

She was shitting herself at the thought of being summoned into the King’s office with the entire family.

The office was uncharacteristically quiet, the usual hustle and bustle of the palace muffled by the thick doors. Charles sat at the massive oak desk, the official abdication papers spread out before him. Arthur stood off to the side, his arms crossed, watching the scene with a mix of bewilderment and unease while his parents stood by the desk with a clear look of disdain etched on their faces.

She stood near the doorway, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She looked smaller than usual, her nerves evident in the way her fingers twisted together. Her wide eyes darted between Charles and the papers, the weight of the moment pressing down on all of them.

Arthur broke the silence first. “Are you sure about what you’re doing, Cha?”

Charles’s pen hovered over the signature line, but he didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked up at her. She met his gaze, and in that instant, the rest of the room faded away. The worry in her eyes, the way her lips pressed together as if she was holding back words—it was as if he was falling in love all over again.

“You don’t have to do this for me, Cha,” she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He smiled at her, then, without hesitation, he bent his head and signed his name in bold strokes across the paper.

The moment was electric, the scratch of the pen on parchment the only sound in the room. When he finally set the pen down, it felt as if the world had shifted, as if something monumental had been set into motion.

Arthur exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Well, there it is,” he muttered, his voice carrying a mixture of disbelief and resignation. “You’re officially insane.”

Charles stood, his movements deliberate as he turned to face her. “Go back to your house,” he said, his voice steady but laced with an urgency that made her breath hitch. “Pack your things. Tell your brother. We’re leaving at six.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parting as if to protest, but before she could say a word, Arthur muttered something about needing air and slipped out of the room, leaving them alone, his parents following shortly behind.

The silence that followed was thick with tension, their gazes locked as the gravity of what had just happened sank in.

“You…” she began, her voice trembling. “You really did it.”

“I did,” he said, stepping closer to her.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but before she could, he cupped her face gently in his hands. The world seemed to pause, the space between them charged with an intensity that neither of them could deny any longer.

And then he kissed her.

It was soft at first, tentative, as if he was savouring the moment he had dreamed of for so long. But when she leaned into him, her hands clutching his jacket as if to anchor herself, the kiss deepened, becoming a silent promise of everything they were about to face together.

When they finally pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed, her breathing uneven. He rested his forehead against hers, his hands still cradling her face.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion.

She blinked, her eyes shining as she searched his face. “I love you too,” she said softly, her voice breaking slightly. Because she did, she didn’t know when she exactly fell in love with him. Maybe it was when he first came to her house and looked at it with wonder rather than judgement or maybe it was when they shared that intimate moment in the wardrobe.

He smiled, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “Then go,” he said. “Pack your things. This time tomorrow, we’ll be miles away from here. Together.”

She nodded, her resolve strengthening as she stepped back, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer before she turned and slipped out of the office.

Charles stood there for a moment, the weight of what he’d just done settling in his chest. But for the first time in his life, he felt truly free.

the end.

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