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nadvs · 4 months ago

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wish you’d ask me (one-shot)

pairing zach maclaren x female reader

summary you and your friend zach are on your way to a weekend retreat when suddenly, you wake up in the hospital with a concussion. zach is relieved you’re okay, until he realizes that you’re under the impression that he’s your boyfriend.

tags plot-flip of ‘the other zoey’ where reader loses her memory. college setting. friends to lovers. mutual pining. mentioned song is ‘red love’ by dream ivory (zach gives indie soft boy yfm). angst and fluff. no smut. hugs to my zach girlies @juniebugg & @nemesyaaa <3 divider credit.

» masterlist

››› friday

“Uh oh,” you mumble.

“What is it?” Zach asks. His gaze is fixed ahead, the snowy road a stretch of glittering white under the afternoon sun. You bring your phone up closer to your face.

“Chase just texted the group,” you explain. “Apparently, the furnace broke.”

“Uh oh,” he echoes.

“Exactly,” you say with a defeated laugh. “What now? Do we cancel? We can’t be out there all weekend with no heat.”

Zach checks the time on his dashboard to see you have thirty minutes left of the drive to the cabin you rented with your friends. The four of them are already there, waiting for you two.

“Nevermind,” you say. “Esha texted. The only thing broken is Chase’s sense of humor. I’m this close to throwing him outside and locking the door.”

You hold up your hand in a pinching motion.

“And she used this emoji,” you explain with a giggle.

Zach’s eyes drift to you, an endeared smile pulling on his lips.

“Appreciate the demonstration,” he says.

He reaches a red light and forces himself not to stare at you. He’s afraid that one day, his feelings for you will refuse to stay stuck in his heart and he’ll just blurt them out.

The past hour in the car with you has been a dream. Really, any time he spends with you is a dream. You’re usually all together as a group, so he cherishes the rare moments he gets to be alone with you.

He knows admitting his feelings to you comes with the risk of losing your friendship and fracturing the bond you both have in the group. But sometimes, it’s like keeping them in actually physically hurts.

“What’s your favorite emoji?” you ask. “No, wait.” You think back to the texts you’ve exchanged over the many months you’ve been friends. “I already know. It’s the guy running. Your version of saying on my way.”

“It’s efficient,” he replies with a shrug.

“Okay, so, what’s your second favorite emoji?” you say.

Zach laughs heartily and says, “You never run out of questions.”

“Do you mean that in a ‘you’re so much fun’ way,” you ask, “or in a ‘I’m too nice to say it, but shut up’ way?”

“Please don’t shut up,” he says in a rush. “You’re keeping me entertained.”

“It’s the least I can do after you stayed back for me.”

You were the only person in your friend group who had a class you couldn’t miss today. Zach offered to leave for the cabin with you, saying he had an important essay he wanted to finish this morning anyway, while everyone else drove up last night.

He had already finished that essay two days ago.

“It was no problem,” he replies. He means it. Nothing is too difficult for him if it’s for you.

“I’ll still pay you back,” you say. You stifle a yawn, fighting off the fatigue that’s been melting into you for the past hour. “What can I get you? What do you want most in the world?”

Zach chews on his bottom lip, pretending to think, when really, what he wants most in the world is sitting in his passenger seat, the prettiest and kindest girl he’s ever known, her gaze burning into him in his peripheral vision.

“A life-changing cup of hot cocoa,” he replies.

“Big ask, but you got it,” you agree with a laugh. “You can enjoy it in your grandpa pj’s.”

Zach smirks. A few nights ago, on a group video call, you amusedly pointed out the plaid button-up he was wearing in bed.

“They’re comfortable,” he counters.

“They’re still pajamas an old man would wear,” you tease. Your phone buzzes in your lap. “It’s Chase. Esha ruined my prank. Scaring us that we’ll freeze? What kind of prank is that?”

“He’s ridiculous,” Zach laughs.

The six of you met back when you were put together for a group project. You all got along so well that you started hanging out outside of class. Zach has grown to deeply care for everyone in the group. You, especially.

“I’ve been playing my music this whole ride,” you realize. “It’s only fair that you get to choose the songs for the last stretch.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures. “You’re a good dj.”

“For once in your life, stop being so nice and just play what you want,” you tease. “Since your phone is the GPS, we can keep using mine. Do you have any public playlists?”

He scratches his cheek, nerves filling his chest.

“You’ll make fun of me,” he says.

“Zachary,” you gasp. “When have I ever made fun of you?”

“Like, a minute ago.”

“Other than that.”

“Five minutes ago?”

You laugh again and Zach swears it’s the nicest sound he’s ever heard. Nicer than any song either of you could put on.

“My music is either workout stuff or just… sappy,” he admits.

“I’d expect nothing less,” you respond with a chuckle. “No pressure, but I promise, I won’t judge.”

He breathes a laugh and tells you his username, praying he can keep a straight face if the songs he listens to when he’s thinking about you play.

You tap on the playlist he titled ‘Relaxing’ and sink back in your seat as you gaze out the window. The glass is a little fogged, the world looking like it was dusted with powdered sugar.

The gentle guitar spills out of the speakers as your eyes travel over snow-covered peaks of evergreens that line the road.

Your heart pulls once you hear the song’s first lines, curious if Zach relates to them.

I’m the type of guy, trying not to fight

Not so perfect but I always try to bring the light

He’s easygoing and optimistic – that much is true. But not so perfect? If you had the chance, you’d tell him how perfect he is, over and over again.

Your eyes slowly flutter shut, lulled by the melody. You tell yourself not to daydream about the man sitting next to you when you’re certain he doesn’t feel the same way you do, but it’s easier said than done.

You can’t help it. The longer you’re Zach’s friend, the more you have to yearn for. You’re convinced he has the purest heart you’ve ever known.

But through the conversations you’ve had with your friends about your love lives, you’ve learned that Zach is a romantic, never nervous to pursue a girl he likes. And if he liked you, you’re sure he’d have told you by now.

When you swore Esha and Maggie to secrecy regarding your crush on him, they were confident he feels the same way. You still aren’t.

I don’t wanna feel insecure about a thing

But she makes me feel like I don’t even know what’s happening

Pull me closer and it’s like I forget what was wrong

The thought of pulling Zach closer, of making his insecurities and problems go away makes your stomach twist with warmth.

And then, you’re lying in bed with him, cocooned in a fluffy duvet, your hand on his cheek as you gaze at him. Your heart is full, the air buzzing with love. He worryingly asks you if you slept enough. You nod and he tells you how beautiful you are and you press your lips on his.

Sudden stillness stirs you awake. You meet his sweet blue eyes.

Oh. You fell asleep. And you had a dream about Zach so tender that your heart is still racing, your lips tingling from the kisses he never even gave you.

“Did we make it?” you murmur, tumbling back into reality, grounding yourself in the fact that you’re in a parked car, not a cozy bed.

“Not yet,” Zach says. “I wanted to make a quick stop. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You look through the windshield to see a convenience store sign, the bottom skirted in translucent icicles.

“It’s okay,” you stutter, unbuckling your seatbelt. “It’ll be good to stretch my legs.”

Cold air pricks your cheeks when you step out of the car. Even though Zach has no idea what your subconscious just threw you into, it’s embarrassing to be around him after such an romantic dream.

You round the car and approach the front door, which Zach is holding open for you. In your daze, you realize you forgot your wallet.

“My wallet,” you say in a hush, turning back.

“I’ll cover it,” Zach offers.

But you’re already scurrying to the car. And then, you lose your balance.

.❅❅❅.

The weight in Zach’s stomach is catastrophically heavy.

You’ve been in a confused daze since your fall. And he’s worried sick.

He stands next to you as you sit in bed, blinking slowly. Since he helped pick you up off the icy concrete and drove you to the nearest hospital, you’ve been slowly coming to your senses.

The doctor comes in and asks a few questions. You get the first few right – your full name, your date of birth, your major, your address. All said confidently, even through the fog blocking your mind.

That’s a relief.

But then, you’re not sure what day of the week it is. You can’t tell her what you had for breakfast. And, most confusing of all, when the doctor asks if you know who he is, you say, “Zach. My boyfriend.”

He swallows hard, the word fluttering in his mind. Boyfriend?

The doctor runs a few tests, checking your coordination and reflexes, then offers a sympathetic grimace.

“You have a mild concussion. You’re not showing any serious signs I’m concerned about, but we should do a CT scan just in case.” The doctor looks to Zach. “Can you come with me to help book it?”

He nods, giving you one more worried glance before he trails the doctor out of the room.

After he tucks the appointment card in his wallet, he listens to the doctor’s instructions. Rest. Hydrate. Reduce stress. No screens. Come back if symptoms worsen.

“What if she’s remembering things wrong?” Zach asks. “I… uh, I’m not her boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

“Her memory will likely come back to her in pieces,” the doctor reassures. “It’s normal that things are jumbled. She’ll be fragile for a bit.”

“What do I do? Is it best for her healing if I play along?”

“The less stress on her brain, the better,” she says. “You can calmly tell her what she has wrong or let her believe the minor, harmless things until she’s herself again. I’m sure she’ll be better soon and you won’t even have to correct her.”

Zach’s chest strains in anxiety, worried that he’ll mess something up. The last thing he wants to do is impede your healing by stressing you out.

When he comes back into the room, your eyes light up in a way they never have for him before. He tries not to let it get to him.

“Hey,” you say lazily, gazing at him with adoration. “Is it booked? Can we go now? We’re so late.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” he says softly. “You’re injured.”

You giggle, stretching your arm out. Hesitatingly, Zach steps closer, letting you warmly hold his hand atop the thin blanket. He feels guilty for enjoying it.

“Did you tell them what happened?” you ask.

“Yeah, I – uh, I…” He begins to stammer as you gently run your fingers over his knuckles. “I should update them, actually.”

He pulls away abruptly, taking his phone out, brows furrowed. A simple touch from you is overwhelming enough, let alone when you’re only doing it because you’re concussed and confused.

You watch him text, his expression tense. He’s always like this, so worried about you. You think back to a few days ago, when he was concerned you didn’t get enough sleep as you lazed in bed together.

“Relax,” you say gently. “She said it was mild, right?”

“Yeah.” Zach keeps his eyes on the screen, unsure of how to tell your friends you’re under the impression you’re dating. “You just need to take it easy. You’ll be back to normal soon.”

.❅❅❅.

You catch up on the group texts you missed after your fall when you settle in Zach’s car. You’re reading the last message, which is Esha saying something about seeing you soon when Zach turns on the engine.

You can’t quite make out the words. Then you realize Zach’s been trying to talk to you.

“What?” you say.

“You shouldn’t look at a screen,” he says gently.

“Right.” You lower your phone. “I can barely read right now anyway.”

“Can you put your seatbelt on?”

“Yes.” You turn, the motion suddenly making you dizzy. Your eyes pinch shut and you hold your head with a pained sigh.

Zach has never been more upset at himself. He’s supposed to be taking care of you. The doctor called you fragile. He’s already messing up.

“Sorry,” he says. “Just relax, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

He leans over, pulling your seatbelt into the buckle. You keep your eyes shut, feeling his forehead brush against your cheek, enjoying the warm, rich fragrance that’s so Zach.

You might not remember everything, but you remember how much you love the way he smells.

“Thanks, baby,” you murmur and plant a kiss on his temple.

Zach’s stomach goes wild with butterflies. Heavy guilt sets in again. He can’t go on like this. It feels wrong to play along.

He pulls back and you look at him past heavy lids.

“We should talk,” he says, “about our friendship.”

He has no idea how to navigate this conversation. The doctor said to correct you calmly. There’s nothing calm about the way his heart is pounding right now.

“We haven’t told them, have we?” you ask. “I can’t remember ever acting like a couple around them. Is that what you mean?”

You think he’s talking about your friendships with the group waiting at the cabin.

This might be the best way to do this.

He’ll let you believe that you’re keeping your relationship under wraps. He’ll avoid any opportunity to be alone with you until your mind is straight again. And eventually, it’ll come to you that you and him aren’t actually together.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “We have to act like we’re just friends in front of them.”

“Why’d we decide to do that again?” you ask.

Zach nervously taps his knee.

“Malek had a really bad breakup,” he explains. “We didn’t want to rub it in his face.”

“Oh, yeah,” you say. The memory comes to you, choppy but clear enough. “Dumped via text. Poor guy.”

He flashes a relieved smile. It’s reassuring that you remember something that happened a week ago.

“Right,” he says. He puts the car in drive. The sooner he gets to the cabin, the sooner he can stop putting on this act. “We should get going.”

.❅❅❅.

Your friends are quiet and reluctant to come too close when you step into the cabin.

“Guys, I’m fine,” you laugh.

“How are you feeling?” Maggie asks, wide-eyed. “Do you remember me?”

“Of course,” you say. “It’s just a headache now.”

“You should sit down,” Zach urges behind you. He puts down the bags he brought in from the car that he refused to let you carry.

“It feels like I’ve been sitting all day,” you say. “Except for the part when I fell.”

“So, we can joke about it?” Chase asks with a grin.

“No,” Zach says. “Too soon.”

You look at him over your shoulder, chuckling.

“I think Zach’s more traumatized than I am,” you say.

“What happened exactly?” Esha asks, waving you in.

You step further into the cabin, struck by the enormous living room windows. They present a stunning view of snowy hills and picturesque cottages under the setting sun.

If it weren’t for the stubborn ache pulsing in your forehead, you’d want to explore more of the cabin. But Zach’s right. You should sit down. That walk from the car was enough exercise. You’re already dizzy again.

“It’s my fault,” Zach replies. “I stopped at some random store and that’s where she fell.”

You meet his eyes, heart breaking at the pained expression on his face. You wish you weren’t putting on a farce right now, because if you could do what you wanted, you’d pull him into a hug.

“It’s not your fault I don’t know how to walk,” you joke.

“You fell in the store?” Chase asks.

“Parking lot,” you say. “To get my wallet. Even though Zach said I didn’t need to. So, technically, it’s on me.”

You can tell by the look on his face that he’s not convinced. He’s blaming himself for this entirely.

You sit down for dinner, downing the water Zach encouraged you to drink, while he catches everyone up on how to help support your healing process.

“How do you know all this?” Maggie asks. “Concussions from playing soccer?”

“I asked the doctor,” he clarifies.

When you’re sure nobody’s looking, you reassuringly squeeze his knee under the table. He tenses up under your touch.

.❅❅❅.

After dinner, you’re bundled up in a blanket on the plush living room couch as flames crackle in the stone fireplace.

Nobody has allowed you to lift a finger. Every chore, down to putting away your dinner plate, has been taken over by one of your friends encouraging you to rest.

Zach’s on the other end of the sectional, tapping his fingers against the armrest. You remember that it’s something he does when he’s nervous. Why is he nervous? And why does he have to be so far away? You’re pretending to be just friends, but simply sitting next to you wouldn’t be suspicious, would it?

You know you’re not yourself. Your thoughts are muddy and patchy, but you’re already feeling much better than you did at the hospital because another memory suddenly blooms in your mind.

“Hot cocoa,” you say. Five heads turn to look at you as you point at Zach. “I owe you hot cocoa for staying back to drive me.”

“Yeah,” Zach says, his dimpled grin making your heart skip. “Your memories are coming back.”

You nod with a bright smile. At this moment, as he gazes at you from across the room, he realizes just how much he worries about you, he thinks of the kiss you left on his skin, and he accepts that he was wrong.

He’s not falling for you – he’s already in deep, completely enamored with no hope of pulling himself out.

.❅❅❅.

After you brush your teeth, you pad downstairs to the kitchen before you head to sleep in the bedroom you’re sharing with the girls.

You’re walking back through the dimly lit house when you hear the floorboards creak under someone’s weight. Zach rounds the corner at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hi,” you say sweetly. He towers over you and your eyes drift down to the red and black flannel he’s wearing. “The famous grandpa pj’s.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, happy you remember yet another thing.

His chest twists, conflicted because he enjoys the familiar comfort of being alone with you, but is also anxious in case you still have the wrong idea about the nature of your relationship.

“Proud of me for hydrating?” you ask, holding up the cup of water you just got for yourself.

“Very proud.” He walks past you. “Sleep well.”

You’re confused. It’s unlike him. You remember enough to know he’s typically kind and talkative.

“Hey,” you say, turning to look at him. He meets your gaze, lips slightly parted, visibly tense. “What’s wrong? You don’t really blame yourself, do you? I’m fine.”

His lips curl into a frown. He’s not convinced.

“Please don’t worry,” you continue softly, stepping towards him. “You’ve been taking such good care of me. You’re the best friend a concussed girl could have.”

Friend. Does that mean you no longer think he’s your boyfriend? Have you forgotten about the whole thing entirely?

Before he can ask to be sure, he realizes you were being playful with the word, because you quickly look over your shoulder, then unexpectedly pop up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips.

“I made sure nobody saw,” you say in an amused whisper. “Good night.”

You rush upstairs, an electric current zipping through you even though you’ve kissed him a million times before.

Zach is standing still in the hallway, heart hammering, blood running hot. He’s lost count of how many times he daydreamed about kissing you. Now, he felt your lips against his for real, and his mind and body are a jumbled mess.

There’s a chance you like him back and now feel uninhibited to offer him the affection you’ve always wanted to give him. Or you’re just confused and you’ll be horrified to learn that he let you believe you’re dating when you were dazed and vulnerable.

If your memory isn’t solid by tomorrow, he’ll have to correct it himself. And he can only hope he won’t ruin your friendship in the process.

››› saturday

You’re walking towards the kitchen, the taste of toothpaste fresh on your tongue. You’re glad you woke up with a much clearer mind. You remember more of yesterday; it’s almost a complete picture in your head.

Zach and Malek are sitting at the breakfast table, cradling mugs of coffee. Zach’s eyes dart away from yours the moment he sees you. It makes your heart sink.

“Hi,” you say to them.

“Morning,” Malek replies.

“Feeling better?” Zach asks.

“Headache’s gone,” you answer. He nods, but doesn’t look at you again.

He’s been acting weird and you’re not sure if it’s just guilt over your fall. The memory of you lying in bed with him a few days ago is so clear. What happened between then and yesterday?

You must have had a fight that you’re forgetting about. You’re sure Zach would be selfless enough to pretend that you’re on good terms while you’re concussed, but he can’t hide that he’s on edge.

“Bad sleep?” you ask, looking down at his drink. “You only drink coffee when you’re desperate.”

His eyes finally find yours again, softening when they do. It’s the early morning and he’s wearing sweats and a hoodie and his dark honey hair is a tousled mess, yet he still looks so handsome and it feels unfair to not be able to kiss him.

“You remember that, too,” he says with relief. “Anything else come up?”

“Nothing that feels important,” you admit with a shrug. Disappointment flashes over his features and you chew on your lip in saddened confusion.

Zach hates seeing the hurt on your face. He needs to have this conversation now and get it over with.

“Do you want to get some fresh air?” he asks.

“That sounds nice,” you answer.

“You’re insane,” Malek says. “It’s like the North Pole out there.”

“Exactly,” you reply with a laugh. “It makes you appreciate being inside even more.”

.❅❅❅.

You stand side-by-side on the snow-covered balcony leading out to the back of the cabin, bundled up in your coats, hats, and mittens.

“It’s so pretty out here,” you whisper, gazing out at the frozen lake hugged by patches of trees.

“It is,” Zach says. His breath comes out in a small puff of fog as he ruminates over how to tell you what he needs to tell you.

“All that ice,” you mumble, “and so many different ways to fall on it.”

He cracks a smile.

“Still too soon to joke about it,” he says.

“Even I don’t get a free pass?” you chuckle.

You reach for his hand, feeling his warmth through your mittens. Zach clears his throat and pulls out of your grasp.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” he begins. His cheeks redden. “And please hear me out. I was doing what I thought was–”

The sound of the door sliding open interrupts him. You both look back to see Malek ambling out onto the balcony with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets.

“Maybe you guys are onto something,” he says. “We didn’t come all the way out here not to appreciate the views, right?”

He stands between you two and despite the tension, you and Zach share a smile, knowingly both irritated yet amused at your friend’s clueless intrusion.

.❅❅❅.

When you head back inside, everyone else has woken up, loudly chattering in the kitchen. You’re pulled into a conversation with Esha and Maggie while Chase asks Zach to help him with starting the fire.

It’s hard to absorb the words your friends are saying after the way you and Zach left things a few minutes ago.

“Can someone turn on some music?” Maggie eventually asks. “I left my phone upstairs.”

“Sure,” you offer.

“No screens!” Esha shouts.

“It’ll just be for a second,” you laugh. You connect to the speaker. When you realize you have an unfamiliar playlist open, you curiously scroll through the songs.

Zach comes back into the kitchen, dusting off his hands.

You tap on the first track in the playlist. A slow, gentle song buzzes from the living room.

Then, it hits you like a wave.

This song played in his car on the way here. You dozed off listening to it. You woke up from a dream.

A dream.

Zach isn’t your boyfriend. He never was.

The puzzle pieces have finally snapped together, and the picture isn’t pretty.

You stare at him, the realization harsh and unsettling. The possibility of a fight you forgot about had run through your head, but the fact that you were never even together is startling.

Zach can see it immediately, the discomfort on your face. He thought he wanted you to figure it out on your own. Now that you have, he regrets not telling you the truth right away.

“Uh, my… phone is about to die,” you stammer, stopping the song. “Be right back.”

You leave the room, and while everyone else carries on conversation, Zach’s heart is in his stomach. He messed up. Possibly irreversibly.

He trails behind you, whispering your name as you rush up the stairs. You turn to face him once you reach your bedroom, nearly breathless.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, the embarrassment wringing out your insides.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Can you sit down? You need to take it easy.”

“Zach,” you assert. He sighs in worry.

“I was about to tell you outside, but then we got interrupted.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me right away?” you say. “I… oh, my God. I kissed you last night.”

Zach rakes his hand through his hair as you step back and exhale in disbelief.

“The doctor said I shouldn’t stress you out,” he explains. “I didn’t want to confuse you or embarrass you–”

“Too late,” you interrupt with a note of sadness.

It’s a punch to Zach’s gut seeing you so upset because of something he did. He’d actually prefer a real punch right now. At least then, he’d know the pain will fade. The guilt filling his chest feels like it’ll be there forever.

“I – I was doing what I thought was best,” he says. “She said you were fragile and it freaked me out and I promise, the last thing I want to do is upset you or mess with your healing.”

You can see that he’s in distress, but so are you. You spilled your heart out to him, you touched and kissed him while under the impression that you shared a love that wasn’t there.

“Please don’t think I’m a creep or something – I just – I honestly didn’t expect that kiss,” he admits. “I would’ve stopped it if I did.”

You have to look away. Why would he have stopped it? Because you weren’t in your right mind? Or because he wouldn’t ever want you to kiss him?

You hope he has it in him to at least admit if he feels anything for you. This is the time to do it after you embarrassed yourself so immensely. You stare down at the floor, silently praying that he’ll reassure you.

Zach’s throat tightens. Seeing you like this makes his shame so overpowering that his eyes start to burn with tears.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. He steps out of the room before you can see him cry. He doesn’t want to make this about him. He wants to give you space.

You’re left standing alone in the silence, your heart cracked right down the middle.

.❅❅❅.

Zach doesn’t let his gaze linger on you for the rest of the day. He’s terrified he’ll have to face his fear of losing you.

What’ll life look like without you? You met and then all of a sudden, you became a ray of light in his world, always able to make him smile, always on his mind. He can’t stomach making you uncomfortable. You looked so disgusted that he went along with a lie.

After dinner, you’re all sitting in the living room and helping Maggie set up a board game. That’s when Zach finally allows himself to look at you.

You’re sitting in front of the fireplace, quietly reading the instructions to yourself, lips moving with the words. Worrisome curiosity gnaws at him, eager to find out if your mind is clear again.

“Does reading still feel weird or is it okay now?” he asks you from across the room.

“Oh – yeah,” you say, caught off guard. You haven’t spoken since your fight this morning. “It’s okay now.”

“Where have you been, MacLaren?” Maggie laughs. “We established she’s back to normal like three hours ago.”

“Do we need to check your head?” Chase jokes.

Zach forces a laugh. He’s been too lost in his thoughts to absorb himself in the conversations happening around him all day. The possibility of making you uncomfortable simply by being in the same room as you is too heavy to ignore at this point.

“Maybe,” he says. “I should probably turn in.”

“What?” Malek shouts. “I was going to kick your ass at… what’s this game called again?”

“You can kick my ass later,” Zach mumbles, standing up. “Sorry, guys.”

“Lame,” Maggie sighs.

You keep your gaze on him as he leaves the room, but his eyes stay on the floor the entire time.

.❅❅❅.

You gently knock on the boys’ bedroom door, listening to your friends’ enthusiastic competition-fuelled conversations echoing from downstairs.

It’s been fifteen minutes since you started the board game and two since you purposely knocked yourself out of it. You excused yourself to take a shower, but your intention was always to come up and talk to Zach. Even though you’d left things so tense, you need to make sure of one thing.

“Yeah?” His voice on the other side of the door is muffled. You step into the dark room, the hallway light spilling in.

“It’s me,” you whisper into the dimness. “Sorry. You’re not sleeping, are you?”

“No. I can’t,” he admits. You hear a mattress creak. A light turns on with a click. Zach’s standing by a lamp, almost looking wounded.

You step inside, shutting the door behind you, nervous as you settle on the edge of one of the beds. He sits on another bed and faces you.

“I don’t think you’re a creep,” you say. “I just had to make sure you know that, okay?”

Zach lets out a shaky sigh. He purses his lips, nodding slowly, and when you see a shine pool over his eyes, you still.

“Thanks,” he breathes. “I hated the idea of you thinking I took advantage of you or something and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be around me if you–”

“What? Zach, no. No way.”

When he quietly sniffles, you’re certain he’s holding back tears. You knew he was sensitive, but witnessing him cry over the possibility of making you uncomfortable stings. Especially since he surely felt awkward with you touching him and kissing him, and still played along for you.

He doesn’t deserve to feel like this. You shuffle over, sitting next to him on his bed.

“Listen, I was just really embarrassed,” you say, desperate to console him. “I still am, to be honest.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to be. You were injured.”

“Yeah, but… how would you feel if you ran around kissing me just for me to tell you I never wanted you to?”

Zach’s jaw tenses. Is that what you think? That he doesn't want to kiss you? God, he’d spend all day kissing you if you let him.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” you continue, “and I get why you went along with it. I know you were just looking out for me. Sorry that I got so upset.”

“Please don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m the one who should apologize.”

“We’ll never agree on this,” you say with a quiet laugh. “We’re good, okay? I’m gonna go take a shower and if you’re up for it, you should go downstairs. I’ll come down after and make you that cocoa I promised.”

Zach laughs, genuine and warm, and it makes your heart feel like it’s floating.

“Cool,” he says.

“Cool,” you echo. You stand up, almost out the door when he stops you.

“Hey, can you…”

“What?” you ask.

“Just… be careful in the shower. Don’t slip.”

“I’ll be fine. Jeez, you fall on your head one time,” you quip. He laughs. And his smile doesn’t fade for a while after you leave the room.

.❅❅❅.

You’ve just washed the soap off your skin and are about to turn the water off when you’re plunged into darkness. Standing in the tub, naked, completely blind.

For a moment, you’re afraid this is a symptom of your concussion. But then you realize the power must have gone out. You feel for the tile wall, pushing the shower curtain to the side, more nervous to fall than you’d normally be.

“Hey, you okay in there?” Zach asks through the door. He’s nearly breathless. As soon as the lights went out, he raced up the stairs in worry, using his phone flashlight as a guide.

“Yeah,” you call. “Did the power go out?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Do you need any help or anything? I can get Esha or Maggie.”

You smile to yourself in the dark, not surprised that he’s being so considerate of your comfort. You feel for the robe you left on the counter and wrap yourself in its warmth, then open the door.

Zach’s standing in the hallway, phone flashlight aimed at the floor, concern etched into his face.

“Do we know what happened?” you ask.

Seeing you fresh out the shower feels oddly vulnerable. This is an intimate state for him to witness you in, but you’re not nervous at all, and it’s reassuring to have the hard proof that you’re not uncomfortable around him.

“I think it’s the wind,” he says. “It must have knocked a power line down.”

“Uh oh,” you reply in same way you did when Chase texted about the furnace breaking. He chuckles. At least he can find comfort in the fact that you really do remember everything.

“I’ll get dressed and meet you down there,” you say. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Of course.”

The lights are still out when you come downstairs in your pajamas. Your friends are huddled around the fire, amber lights and gray shadows casting over their faces and on the walls. The crescent moon gleams in the cloudy sky past the massive windows.

“Were you at least at the end of your shower?” Esha asks with a defeated laugh.

“Yeah,” you say. “I was just about to get out when the room went dark. I was scared my concussion came back.”

“That’d be great timing,” Esha jokes.

“Right? While I’m naked in a tub,” you laugh, settling on the floor next to her. Zach is glad nobody’s looking at him right now, because his cheeks are burning at the mention of you being naked. “Did anyone message the owner?”

“Yeah,” Maggie says. “He’s not answering, but I don’t know what he could even do. I checked online and the whole grid is out. I think we’ll just have to wait it out.”

“Chase cursed us,” Esha says.

“How is this my fault?” he asks.

“You tempted fate with your stupid joke yesterday,” she replies. “The furnace broke. Now everything is broken. Are you happy?”

“Honestly, thrilled,” he replies. “Pretty cool to have the power to control the weather.”

You continue to chat with your friends, feeling the temperature in the cabin slowly fall. Before you know it, it’s been half an hour and the power still isn’t back on. You’re shaking from the cold.

Zach notices the way you’re curled up, arms wrapped around your legs, surely colder than everyone else since you just showered.

“We should keep the fire going,” he says. “I don’t think the power will come back on any time soon.”

“What happened to the annoying optimism we’ve grown to know and love?” Maggie asks.

“I told you guys, I traumatized him when I fell yesterday,” you say. “I broke my brain and his.”

“No offense, but I probably would’ve laughed my ass off if I saw you fall like that,” Chase jokes.

“That’s why I’m glad I was with Zach,” you retort. He smirks to himself as he builds the fire, hoping it’ll radiate more heat for you soon. “I bet when my memory was messed up, you would’ve convinced me that I owed you money or something.”

“Shit,” Chase says. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Shameless,” Esha mutters. “Guys, I think we’re going to have to sleep here in front of the fire. I bet the bedrooms are freezing.”

“Aw, it’ll be like a real sleepover,” Maggie says excitedly. “Let’s do it.”

You’re all in a fit of laughter as you bring mattresses and pillows and blankets down the stairs, already sure that this is going to be a cherished memory. What happened yesterday has given you a new perspective on life, a realization that something as simple as your memory should be appreciated.

And it’s also made your crush on Zach even deeper. He’s done nothing but look out for you, down to pretending to be your boyfriend to ease you into your healing. Now that the embarrassment has faded, you feel guilty that you were ever upset at him.

The six of you lie in front of the crackling fire, wrapped up in duvets as the wind howls outside. You’re closest to Zach, your back inches away from his chest. As you gaze at the flames, you think about the way his lips felt on yours last night.

No wonder you felt so stunned after kissing him. Your mind didn’t know it was your first kiss, but your body did. The thought that it was also your last kiss makes your stomach sink. He’s had every opportunity to tell you if he likes you. He hasn’t. You’re just a friend to him and nothing more.

“Who wants to bet on when the power’s going to be back on?” Malek asks. You hear the click of him unlocking his phone. “It’s 11:30 now. I don’t…”

He suddenly stops talking.

“Did he die? I’m too tired to turn around and check,” Esha says.

“My ex texted me,” Malek says.

“Don’t fall into the trap, man,” Chase says. “What’s done is done.”

“What’s it say?” Zach asks. He stares at you as you lie in front of him, backlit by the fire.

“She’s apologizing,” Malek says. “She wants to get back together.”

“No,” Maggie says sternly. “She dumped you over text, dude.”

You listen to your friends chat, your eyelids growing heavy. Admittedly, you’re worried you’ll dream of Zach again. Having his heart in a delusion just to wake up and realize it’s not really yours hurts too much.

You shuffle your feet to get comfortable, accidentally bumping Zach.

“Sorry,” you whisper over your shoulder. “Was that your kicking foot?”

“Yeah,” Zach replies. “You just blew my entire season.”

You giggle quietly, tightening your blanket around you. You wish you could hold on to a shred of hope that eventually, your feelings for him will fade. The sinking feeling in your gut tells you that’ll never happen.

.❅❅❅.

A harsh droning pulls you out of your sleep. Your eyes squeeze shut, then flicker open when you realize someone is snoring. Loudly.

“Who is that?” Esha whispers into the pitch dark. The fire must have died down.

“Malek,” Chase mutters. “He sounds like a fucking dragon.”

“Malek,” Esha whines. His snoring suddenly stops and you figure she must have kicked him awake.

You chuckle to yourself, gently shuffling in place. That’s when you realize you’re up against a warm, firm surface, your nose brushing against the comforting fragrance you love so much.

You’re cuddled up to Zach. You pull back an inch, your entire body tense.

“How’d I get here?” you try to joke in a whisper. “Sorry.”

“Stay,” he mumbles sleepily. He pulls you in by your hip, squeezing gently in his daze. Your heart thrums and you obey, giving into what you want most.

››› sunday

You can feel the brightness of the sun behind your eyelids. The air isn’t cold. The furnace is buzzing. The power is back on.

You gain your bearings and slowly sit up. Everyone else is still asleep. You smile in admiration as you look at your sleeping friends. You love them all so much. You turn to see Zach, his lips in a cute pout, and you accept the fact that you love him, too, in a deeper way.

Friends. You’re friends. You’ll keep telling yourself that until your heart believes it.

You quietly make your way to the kitchen, determined to cook a big breakfast for everyone. Five minutes pass before Maggie walks in with a tired smile, commenting that something smells good.

“Sit down,” you invite her. “Coffee? Tea? I’m making a thank-you breakfast.”

“What for?” she asks.

“You all took such good care of me,” you say.

“Yeah, because Zach basically threatened us to when you first got here,” she laughs. “I’ve never seen him so intense. Last night, when the power went out? He booked it upstairs to find you. He’s been so worried about you.”

“Yeah, I think he still feels responsible for me falling,” you say.

She sits up to look over the wall into the hallway to check that the coast is clear, then waves you closer. You turn off the range and sit next to her.

“I think it’s more than that,” she says.

“No,” you say with a small laugh. “No way.”

.❅❅❅.

Zach shuffles awake, exhaling deeply. He drags his hand over the blanket next to him, looking for you before he realizes that’s what he’s doing.

It felt so nice when you turned towards him in a half-asleep daze, nuzzling your head into his chest. It took him a while to fall asleep simply because of how hard his heart was drumming.

He steps over his sleeping friends. Then, he hears a hushed conversation getting louder as he heads down the hallway.

“...think so?” Maggie says.

“No,” you respond. “Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you and Esha until after we got back, but… I was so out of it at the hospital that I thought he was my boyfriend and… he actually went along with it.”

“What?” she says.

You’re talking about him. He’s about to clear his throat to announce himself and pretend like he hasn’t heard anything, but then he hears your next words.

“I know he didn’t want me acting like that with him, but he tolerated it just so I wouldn’t get freaked out when I realized my memory was messed up,” you confess. “He was so awkward about it after. Trust me. He does not like me back.”

Zach slowly steps back towards the living room and goes up the stairs, trying to absorb what he just heard, trying to make sense of the fact that you not only truly think that he doesn’t want your affection, but also that you’re genuinely disappointed about it.

Back. You don’t think he likes you back.

This might just be the happiest he’s ever felt.

.❅❅❅.

You love how pleased your friends look at the breakfast spread you’ve made for them as they trickle into the kitchen.

“It’s a good thing it was so cold overnight,” you announce. “Nothing in the fridge went bad.”

Zach is the last one to come in and your heart, the traitor, skitters when you meet his striking blue eyes. How long until you can look into those eyes and not think about how it feels to be held by him, how it feels to kiss him?

“Sleep well?” you ask to make casual conversation. He settles in the last empty chair at the table.

“Yeah. My old man pajamas are really toasty,” he says.

You nod, skin buzzing. Does he remember cuddling you in the middle of the night? By the way his eyes linger on you, you think he just might, and in this simple, small moment, you feel a pinch of hope that he feels the same way you do.

You glance up at the clock hanging above the table to see it’s just past nine, leaving less than two hours before check-out. You try to enjoy the last little bit you have with your friends before you split up to clean and leave the cabin the way you found it.

.❅❅❅.

The cabin is spotless, the cars are packed up, and you’re hugging your friends goodbye as light snowflakes gently fall from the white sky.

You’ve been giddy with anticipation at the thought of having an hour and a half drive back to campus with Zach, even though he left such a confusing knot in your chest. Despite everything, he’s still a friend you love to spend time with.

“Have a nice drive!” Chase says as he heads towards Esha’s car, raising his brows at Zach.

After breakfast, Chase had asked him to join you two on the ride home to have more space than he would have sharing a backseat with Malek, but Zach apologized and told him he’d rather not.

When Chase insisted he tell him why, Zach didn’t see any reason to keep it in any longer. He admitted to liking you and said he’d finally tell you on the way home.

“Bold,” Chase had said. “And if she doesn’t like you, too? That’ll be like, the most awkward car ride ever.”

“I’ll take the risk,” Zach replied with a smile.

.❅❅❅.

“Wow,” you say as you drive out onto the main road. “I never made you that hot cocoa, did I?”

“You didn’t,” he says, pretending to be deeply displeased.

“Will you ever forgive me?” you play along.

“I’ll need to do some reflecting first,” Zach replies. You laugh, relieved that you two are joking like old times before this past weekend through you for a loop.

“Fair,” you say. You plug your phone into his speaker system. “Let’s see if I can unlock any other memories. And don’t tell me it’s still too soon to joke about it.”

Zach chuckles, cocking his head.

“I’ll let it slide,” he says. “I woke up in a good mood.”

“You’re basically always in a good mood,” you respond.

Zach can understand why you’d think that. It’s because he’s never been in a bad mood around you. Life is bright and easy and rich when you’re around. And it’s been even richer since he overheard what you said this morning.

“We passed a waterfall while you slept on the way up here,” Zach says. “Would you want to make a stop to check out the view?”

“Yeah,” you agree, pushing away the reminder of what you’d dreamt about during that nap. “Sounds cool.”

.❅❅❅.

Crystal blue water rushes down in an endless torrent, crashing down to the surface with a dull roar. You’re in awe of how ethereal the waterfall is, white mist bubbling over the stream bordered by snowy land. The snow is still falling gently, the atmosphere cool but not cold, as if the earth is apologizing for the windstorm last night.

You and Zach stand at a height behind a railing, his car parked a few feet away on the side of the road. He purposely slowed down so your friends would drive far enough ahead to not notice you’d made a stop.

Now that he’s here, he’s painfully nervous. Worst case scenario, you’re not interested in dating him, and it’ll lead to, like Chase said, the most awkward car ride ever. He’s sure the remaining hour journey back to campus would feel like ten hours if this goes wrong.

But he’s always been optimistic and last night as he fell asleep with you in his arms, he thought back to every moment in your friendship when he had a spark of hope that he had a place in your heart like you do in his.

Over the months he’s known you, he got into the habit of trying to dull the spark, reminding himself of how much he had to lose if you didn’t return his feelings.

Deep down, he always knew he’d eventually give in; he has so much love to give you and the thought of keeping it contained when you might want it was getting harder to bear.

You could break his heart if you don’t want him, but it’d break his heart even more if you do and he doesn’t do anything about it.

“Wow,” you say in a whisper, taking a photo of the waterfall with your phone. “I shouldn’t post this, should I? Our friends might be mad that we didn't include them.”

“I think they’ll understand,” Zach replies. “I told Chase… uh…”

You lower your phone, looking up at him, unable to stifle your smirk because of how cute he looks from the way the breeze has messed up his hair. The road behind you is clear and quiet, the mid-morning sun offering mild warmth.

“You told Chase…?” you say.

Zach licks his lips, his mouth gently opening before he finds the words. He shifts to face you, eyes searching your pretty features, heart in his throat.

“I told him I wanted to be alone with you,” he says. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop this morning, I swear… but I… I do like you. Back.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You look down at the snowy concrete, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“I heard you right… right?” Zach mumbles.

“Back,” you repeat softly, finding the bravery to look back up at him. “Yeah. That’s what I said.”

A sweet, honeyed smile grows on his face. He tilts his head slightly, looking at you the exact way you’d dreamt he would. How you always wanted him to, but convinced yourself he wouldn’t.

“I didn’t tolerate you acting like we were dating,” he says. “I liked it and I felt bad for liking it because it wasn’t real.”

You mirror his smile, your heart full of love and joy and the comfort that he’s been giving you since the day you met him.

“I was just doing what I always wanted to do,” you confess. His eyes glint with endearment as he brings a hand up to gently cup your face.

“I really enjoyed being your pretend boyfriend,” Zach says, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as you look up at him through your lashes. “Can I be your real one now, though?”

You sigh softly, nodding as he stares at you in nothing short of infatuation. He leans closer by a half-inch, silently testing if you’re okay with it.

You close the distance and your lips meet with a sweet, gentle tenderness like they’ve done this before. You pull back, remembering that they have.

“Can we count that as our first kiss?” you say.

“Absolutely,” he chuckles.

››› one week later

You’re stepping out of the kitchen in Zach’s apartment, tightly gripping the tray of six mugs filled with hot cocoa.

“Whoa,” Zach says, quickly standing up from his spot on the floor when you enter the living room. “Careful.”

“Her concussion is gone, man,” Chase says. “You have the test results to prove it. She can handle carrying a tray.”

“He’s helping her because he’s a gentleman,” Esha states. “Do you know what that word means or are you committed to being a caveman forever?”

“Caveman,” he repeats with a grin.

“Don’t give him any,” Esha mutters. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

You laugh as you set the tray down on the coffee table with Zach’s help. You settle in your spot on the couch as Zach sits on the floor in front of you again, tucked in between your legs, the insides of your knees pressed against his shoulders.

“I have to say, I called it,” Maggie says as she gazes between you and Zach with a big smile on her face. “Tell everyone how I called it.”

“You called it,” you say, putting your hands on your boyfriend’s broad shoulders, gently squeezing.

Her eyes dart to Esha and you share a knowing grin. You’d had private conversations about how if you and Zach were always a little obvious, Esha and Chase are the definition of the word.

“Ow,” Malek snips, holding the steaming mug away from his face. “I burned myself.”

“It’s hot cocoa, Malek,” Chase says. “It’s literally in the name.”

“Really good, though,” Malek says, giving you a thumbs up.

“Thanks,” you laugh.

The tray is eventually littered with empty mugs and you stand to clear away the mess, your heart glowing with the feeling it always has when you’re surrounded by your friends.

You’re scrubbing a soapy sponge over a mug when you hear Zach’s voice behind you.

“You don’t have to wash anything.”

You look over your shoulder, smiling.

“It’s okay,” you say. He approaches you, hugging you from behind as you stand at the sink, surrounding you in his warmth as your friends talk a room away.

He always enjoyed moments of privacy with you, but since that day by the waterfall, every second with you is more than perfect.

“So?” you say. “Did you get your wish? Was the cocoa life-changing?”

“Ask me again what you asked on the way up to the cabin,” he murmurs. “What I want most in the world.”

“What do you want most–”

“You,” he interrupts. You laugh breathily as he kisses the side of your neck. “I just couldn’t answer honestly the first time you asked. But it was always you.”

You turn the faucet off and tilt your head back, looking up at the ceiling with a smile on your face as he leaves kisses on your neck and holds you tighter.

It was always him, too.

(the end)

#taking a lil break from my intense dramatic rafe series hehe #zach maclaren and reader #zach maclaren and you #zach maclaren and y/n #zach maclaren blurb #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren x you #zach maclaren x reader #zach maclaren #drew starkey #the other zoey

1K notes · View notes

woniedarlin · 23 days ago

Note

can you, perhaps, do an idol! jungwon x reader fanfic? the setting would be reader accidentally texting jungwon and the reader is an engene as well, actually, but then reader and won keep talking but he doesn't reveal he is an idol until later!! reader could be in the industry as like a staff or smth!

Sent, Delivered, Loved

pairing: idol! Jungwon x staff! reader

synopsis: As a hardworking staff member at HYBE, the last thing you expected was to accidentally text the wrong number in the middle of a busy day. But instead of a confused reply, the person on the other end kept the conversation going. He was funny, easy to talk to, and somehow, you found yourself looking forward to his messages. You didn’t know his name, his face, or even his voice but you liked him. Which was ridiculous, right?

Oh, and the person you were texting? Yeah. It was Jungwon. THE Jungwon from enhypen.

author's note: Thank you for the amazing request, Anonie! I must say, it took me a whole month to finish this, but it was definitely worth it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy reading, everyone! 💖

warning: This is just for the plot and should never be taken seriously. Do NOT text random strangers 😭 and don’t ever fall for someone just through texting. Mentions of cursing and also slight angst.

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n @layzfy

You: bro wtf where r u???

You angrily jabbed at your screen. It was late, you were exhausted, and your friend, your so-called reliable colleague, was missing in action when you needed them most.

You: i swear to god if u left me to deal with this alone i’m blocking u forever.

A few seconds passed, and then-

Unknown Number: uh… hi??

You frowned. That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting.

You: ???

You: don’t play dumb. u know what u did.

Unknown Number: i actually don’t. i think u have the wrong number??

Your eyes widened.

Oh.

OH.

You immediately scrolled up, checking the number you had just texted, only to realize that you had completely messed up one digit in your rush.

You: …omg wait. ur not Jiho?

Unknown Number: pretty sure i’m not.

You: oh my god kill me now. i’m so sorry.

Unknown Number: lmao it’s cool. what did this guy do to deserve ur wrath tho??

You sighed and debated whether or not to answer. But at this point, you’d already embarrassed yourself. Might as well go all in.

You: he bailed on me. we were supposed to finish this event setup for work but guess who’s suddenly “busy” 🙄

Unknown Number: damn. fake friend behavior.

You: RIGHT?? like i love him but i will fight him.

The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared. Then, it appeared again.

Unknown Number: sounds like a rough job. must be intense working in the industry.

You blinked at your screen. That was… a little specific.

You: wait, how’d u know it’s the industry??

Unknown Number: u mentioned an event setup. unless ur hosting birthday parties on a tuesday night, i figured.

You: touché.

Unknown Number: so what do u do?

You hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t like this was confidential information, but still…should you be talking about work with a total stranger? Then again, you had already gone on a rant about your missing-in-action coworker, so what harm would a little more do?

You: just staff stuff. event coordination, assisting with schedules, making sure idols don’t get lost on the way to their own stages. u know. the usual.

Unknown Number: sounds like a nightmare.

You: it is <3

You chuckled, shaking your head at how easy it was to talk to this person.

Unknown Number: u must meet a lot of idols then.

You sighed.

You: yeah but it’s not as exciting as u think. they’re just people. some r nice, some r annoying, some act like they don’t know what a clock is.

Unknown Number: LOL. any favorites?

You raised an eyebrow at that.

You: what, r u an idol fan?

Unknown Number: maybe.

You: ok mysterious.

Unknown Number: u didn’t answer tho.

You hummed and think.

You: idk. if i had to pick… maybe enhypen? they’re cool.

A beat of silence. Then,

Unknown Number: good taste.

Weird. Before you could think too much about it, another message popped up.

Unknown Number: anyway, u still mad at ur friend or did u forgive him?

You rolled your eyes.

You: still mad. he better buy me food.

Unknown Number: solid plan. u deserve compensation.

You: exactly!! u get it.

And just like that, the conversation flowed on, stretching far past the frustration that started it. You didn’t know who this person was, but they were easy to talk to, and for some reason, you didn’t mind keeping the conversation going.

🫐

Over the next few weeks, your accidental text became a daily habit. You didn’t know why, but talking to this stranger was easy. Maybe it was because he had no expectations of you. He wasn’t a coworker, a superior, or an idol to impress. He was just some guy who sent back sarcastic texts and asked surprisingly thoughtful questions.

And for Jungwon, it was the opposite.

For the first time in a long while, he got to be a normal person. Not Jungwon, leader of Enhypen. Just some random guy in your messages. He didn’t have to worry about his image or if he was saying the right thing. You didn’t treat him differently. You teased him, called him bro, and sent blurry dinner photos.

And he liked it.

Maybe he never corrected you when you called him a nobody. Perhaps he looked forward to your messages more than he should.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you the truth.

🫐

You groaned as you dropped onto a chair in the break room. You are completely drained, and the past few hours have been horrible. Running back and forth between different rooms, handling last-minute requests, and nearly getting run over by a staff member pushing a cart too fast. At this point, your legs were made of jelly, your back ached, and your only source of comfort was-

You: listen here, u lil gremlin. i am suffering.

Unknown Number: ???

Unknown Number: what did i do this time 😭

You: EXIST. why am i here working my ass off while u get to sit there and breathe??

Unknown Number: maybe bc u have a job and i’m just a mysterious, incredibly cool stranger on the internet

You: mysterious, incredibly cool GREMLIN.

You: actually no. goblin. u give goblin energy.

Jungwon almost choked on his water. Goblin??

Unknown Number: EXCUSE ME.

Unknown Number: what part of me gives goblin energy???

You: idk. just a vibe. like a smug little goblin who laughs at my suffering.

Jungwon did, in fact, laugh at that. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.

Unknown Number: ok but real talk. what’s making u suffer this time

You: running around hybe like a headless chicken. setting up for another event. also why do idols need so many rooms. just share a table or smth smh.

Jungwon raised a brow.

Hybe.

So, you worked at Hybe. That confirmed it. You were in the same building as him, probably passing by his team without even realizing it.

Unknown Number: sounds rough. u need a raise tbh.

You: RIGHT?? finally someone with common sense.

Unknown Number: goblin says u should go get a snack or smth before u pass out.

You sighed before standing up and walking toward the nearest vending machine.

You: fine. but only bc goblin said so.

Jungwon grinned. He could get used to this nickname.

🫐

You still didn’t know his real name, and he still hadn’t told you what he did for a living. But weirdly enough, you didn’t mind.

One evening, after another long day of work, you flopped onto your bed and grabbed your phone.

You: goblin. tell me something random about u.

Unknown Number: hmm. i like cats.

You: ok well that’s basic. try again.

Unknown Number: wow ok. rude.

Unknown Number: fine. i used to do taekwondo when i was younger.

You: woah. that’s kinda cool. do u still remember any moves?

Unknown Number: maybe. depends. why? u planning to fight me?

You: depends. are u annoying today?

Unknown Number: always.

You rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself.

Unknown Number: ok my turn. tell me something random about u.

You: hmm. i can survive on just ramen and coffee for a whole week.

Unknown Number: that is not something to brag about.

You: shh. survival skills.

Unknown Number: more like self-destruction skills.

You laughed.

It was weird how easy it was to talk to him. Even without knowing what he looked like or what he did, you felt like you could tell him anything.

And somehow, you got the feeling that he felt the same way.

As you continued texting, an idea popped into your head.

You: btw. i’m giving u a nickname.

Unknown Number: oh? should i be concerned?

You: yes. but it’s happening anyway.

You changed his contact name and took a screenshot.

You: congrats. ur now “goblin” in my phone. [image attached]

Goblin: goblin again???? why.

You: idk u give me goblin vibes.

Goblin: i don’t know if i should be honored or offended.

You: both.

Goblin: …fair.

You grinned to yourself. Yeah, “Goblin” suited him just fine.

🫐

It was ridiculous.

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. This was getting out of control and liking someone you’d never seen. Someone you only knew through texts and calls? It was wild. But talking to Goblin had somehow become the best part of your day.

It wasn’t just his humor or the way he matched your sarcasm. It was the way he listened. The way he remembered small details. He never made you feel like you were talking too much, even when you went on long-winded rants about work.

And that was the problem.

Because now, you were catching feelings for someone who was like a ghost. What the fuck?

You sighed and stared at your phone.

You: goblin. tell me something.

Goblin: what kind of something?

You: something about you. anything.

Goblin: hmm. okay. i like late-night drives.

You: oh? fancy. what else?

Goblin: i sing a lot, but only when i’m alone.

You smiled.

You: what if ur actually really good but no one knows?

Goblin: oh, people know.

You paused, eyebrows furrowing.

You: ?? do u perform or smth?

There was a long pause.

Goblin: nah… let’s say i’ve had some practice.

You stared at the screen. You felt an odd feeling. But before you could ask more, he changed the subject.

And this was the pattern.

You’d ask about him, he’d give vague answers. It wasn’t like he was lying. He wasn’t telling you everything.

Meanwhile, Jungwon was losing his mind.

He liked you. Way more than he should.

He knew he should tell you the truth…that he wasn’t just some random guy but an idol, an Enhypen member, someone you admired without realizing he was the same person you texted every day.

But how was he supposed to do that without making you feel betrayed?

It didn’t help that you unknowingly talked about him all the time.

You: work was chaos today. my team had to set up for an engene event, and guess what? i had to carry a life-sized jungwon cutout.

Goblin: oh? lucky u. he’s pretty cool.

You: pls. i had to carry his smug face up three flights of stairs. not fun.

Goblin: bet he was judging u the whole way.

You: EXACTLY. i could hear him in my head like “hurry up, bitch.”

Jungwon nearly choked on his drink.

You: i mean, i love him, but he def gives rich, spoiled cat vibes.

Goblin: wow. tell me how u really feel.

You: LMAO SORRY. no but fr, i respect him a lot. he works so hard.

Goblin: yeah… he really does.

Jungwon smiled to himself.

But the longer he kept the truth from you, the worse it felt.

One day, he was going to have to tell you.

He just didn’t know how.

🫐

You had one job. Just one.

Don’t freak out. Don’t stare. Be professional.

Yet, here you were, standing in the same hallway as enhypen. Your heart was racing.

You hadn’t even meant to run into them. You were trying to deliver some documents to another department when you turned a corner, and bam! almost crashed straight into Jungwon himself.

“Ah, sorry!” You quickly stepped back and bowed.

“It’s okay,” he replied casually.

You kept your head down, gripping the files in your hands. You knew the rules. Staff weren’t supposed to interact too much with idols unless necessary. So, you did what you always did. You kept moving, not making eye contact.

But the moment you were out of sight, you whipped out your phone.

You: BRO WTF I JUST BUMPED INTO ENHYPEN HELP

Goblin: oh? ur alive?

You: BARELY. I almost DIED. I ran straight into Jungwon.

Goblin: sounds like a skill issue tbh.

You: SHUT UP. Anyway, I had to act normal and not fangirl. Pain.

Goblin: so u saw Jungwon up close, huh? thoughts?

You: he’s… really handsome actually like stupidly handsome.

Jungwon, reading the text, blinked.

Wait.

Something clicked in his head.

You just said you bumped into Enhypen.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he thought back to earlier.

A staff member had walked past them, avoiding eye contact. He hadn’t paid much attention, but now that he thought about it…

That had been you.

Jungwon’s breath hitched.

Holy shit.

You were the staff member he had occasionally seen around the company. He’d thought you were pretty before, but it never crossed his mind that you were you.

Now, everything made sense. The things you ranted about, your schedule, and the way you always seemed to know too much about his events.

He grinned to himself.

Goblin: so… if u had to rank the members by looks, where would jungwon be?

You: pls don’t expose me but top 1 actually. his visuals are insane irl.

Jungwon nearly dropped his phone.

🫐

Ever since Jungwon pieced together your identity, he couldn’t help but pay more attention whenever he saw you at the company.

It wasn’t full-on stalking. No, he wasn’t that creepy. But he started noticing little things.

Like how you always ran around, papers in hand, sometimes looking stressed and sometimes smiling at your coworkers. How you always carried an energy drink in the morning, eyes barely open as you dragged yourself through the halls. How you always pulled out your phone at random moments to text him.

And, most of all, how you never once looked at him.

Jungwon found it amusing. You had no idea that the same person you were texting as “Goblin” was now actively looking for you in a crowd.

He casually walked by your usual routes, trying to confirm his suspicions. If you were near, he’d glance discreetly, watching your reactions. You were always professional, always busy, always avoiding unnecessary attention.

But then, one day, he decided to test his theory.

Exhausted, you were standing near the entrance, rubbing your temples as another staff member spoke to you. You were frustrated, probably from another long day of work.

Jungwon, a few steps away, discreetly pulled out his phone and typed.

Goblin: u alive?

A second later, your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Jungwon didn’t even need to guess. The way your entire demeanor changed was all the confirmation he needed. Your tired frown softened. Your lips curled into a small smile.

Bingo.

Now he knew it was 100% you.

Later that night, he picked up his phone again.

Goblin: so, when’s ur funeral?

You: idk but work is definitely killing me first.

Goblin: want me to fight ur boss?

You: pls. throw hands.

Jungwon chuckled to himself. Oh, if only you knew.

🫐

It was late. You sat on your bed, staring at your phone screen. Without thinking too much about it, you opened your messages.

You: Goblin, you up?

A few seconds passed before the typing bubble appeared.

Goblin: For you? Always. What’s up?

You hesitated. You weren’t usually the type to unload your emotions onto others, but something about him…about this…felt safe.

You: I’m just tired. Really tired.

You: Sometimes I feel like no matter how hard I work, no one actually sees it.

You: Like, I put in all this effort, and it’s just… expected. Nothing special. And if I mess up even a little, suddenly it’s a big deal.

You stared at your screen, debating if you should delete the message, but a reply came in before you could.

Goblin: I know exactly how that feels.

That made you pause.

You: You do?

Goblin: Yeah.

Goblin: It’s like… the pressure never stops. People only see the results, not the work behind it. And when you succeed, it’s just “as expected.” But when you fail? That’s when they notice.

That was oddly specific.

You: Exactly. Like, can someone just acknowledge how exhausting it is??

Goblin: You deserve that acknowledgment. Even if no one else says it, I will: You’re doing amazing. And I mean that.

A small smile tugged at your lips despite the frustration.

You: Thanks, Goblin. That means a lot.

Goblin: Anytime.

A comfortable silence settled between you two. Then,

Goblin: Can I tell you something too?

You sat up a little straighter.

You: Of course.

A few seconds passed before he responded.

Goblin: Sometimes I feel like people don’t actually know me. They see what they want to see. They have all these expectations, and I try to meet them, but at the end of the day… I wonder if anyone would still like me if I wasn’t what they expected.

You stared at the message, something about it making your heart ache a little.

You: That sounds lonely.

Goblin: It is. But I guess I’ve gotten used to it.

Your fingers hovered over the screen keyboard before you started typing.

You: Well, I don’t know about them, but I like you. Just as you are. Even if you’re secretly a weirdo who texts strangers in the middle of the night.

There was a pause, then-

Goblin: Wow. I was about to be all deep and emotional, and you just had to call me a weirdo.

You laughed softly.

You: I’m just saying, you’re pretty cool. Whoever you are.

You didn’t realize it, but on the other side of the screen, Jungwon stared at your message for a long time. He felt something that was terrifying.

Because for the first time in a long while, he felt seen. And he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.

🫐

It’s late at night again, and you’re sitting at home, exhausted after another grueling day at work. Your feet ache, and your body feels heavy, but despite your exhaustion, you’re still awake because of him.

Your phone is open to your messages with Goblin, and you hesitate before typing.

You: be honest. do you ever think about what it’d be like if we met irl?

Jungwon, who was lying in bed, staring at his screen, felt his stomach drop.

Oh no.

Jungwon’s fingers hovered over his screen. His heart pounded as he read your message over and over again. Of course, he had thought about it every single day since realizing who you were. But if you knew who he really was… would you still want to meet?

After a long pause, he finally replied.

Goblin: hmm, maybe… but what if we meet and you’re disappointed?

He winced after sending it. That was a cowardly response, dodging the real issue.

Your reply came almost instantly.

You: lmao please. i bet ur like a middle-aged man with a receding hairline

You: but honestly. i do wonder. it’s weird, right? liking someone u never met??

Jungwon’s stomach flipped. Liking?

Before he could stop himself, his lips curled into a small smile. Did you really mean that? Or was it just a casual way of speaking? He needed to be careful.

Goblin: do u? like me, i mean

The second he sent it, he regretted it. It felt too direct. What if you got weirded out? He considered sending a follow-up message to downplay it, but before he could, his phone vibrated.

You: idk. maybe?

Jungwon stared at the screen, his ears burning. You liked him? But you didn’t even know who he was.

And that was the problem.

He couldn’t keep lying to you.

Taking a deep breath, Jungwon sat up in bed. His fingers moved over his keyboard, hesitating for a long moment before he typed-

Goblin: Hey, can I call you?

🫐

Your phone buzzed in your hand. An incoming call. From Goblin.

Your stomach flipped. He had never called before. Hesitating for a second, you stared at the screen before finally answering.

“Hello?”

There was a pause, then-

“Hey.”

Your breath hitched. His voice was… smooth. Gentle. Familiar in a way. You sat up straighter.

“Wow. So you do have a voice,” you teased trying to mask your nervousness.

He let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah… I figured it was time.”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, this time more serious.

“I have to tell you something.”

Your heart pounded. “What is it?”

Jungwon took a deep breath on the other end. His hands clenched into fists, but this was it. No more hiding.

“I know who you are.”

Your brows furrowed. “Huh?”

“we’ve met before. A lot of times.”

“Wait—what are you saying?”

Jungwon hesitated. “I’m not just some random guy.”

“I’m Jungwon.”

Silence.

Your mind raced. Jungwon? Only one Jungwon immediately came to mind, but that was impossible.

“Jungwon…?” Your voice came out weaker than you wanted.

“Yeah.” Another pause. “Yang Jungwon.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

No.

No way.

The leader of Enhypen. The same Jungwon you had bumped into at the company a few times. The same Jungwon whose songs you had on your playlist.

The same Jungwon you had been texting for months.

You felt your whole world tilt.

“You’re kidding.” You whispered.

“I’m not.” His voice was cautious. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I was scared. I liked talking to you like this. Just as… me.”

Your grip on the phone tightened. You were shocked, confused, and something dangerously close to betrayal.

You had confided in him and talked about your job, talked about him, without knowing it was actually him.

Your mind was spinning.

“I—” You swallowed hard. “I need a minute.”

Jungwon’s heart sank. He could hear the sadness in your voice.

“I get it.” His voice was soft. “Take your time.”

But as the call ended, a heavy silence settled between you.

And Jungwon could only hope he hadn’t just lost you forever.

🫐

You had deleted his contact the second you found out the truth. It was impulsive, but even now, you felt guilty.

You never gave him a chance to explain.

Not that you owed him one. He had lied to you for months. He let you vent about work, about idols, about him. All while hiding that he was the person you were unknowingly talking about. Still, a small part of you wondered what he would have said if you had stayed long enough to hear him out. But it was too late now. You had cut him off, and life had to move on.

So you threw yourself into work, acting like nothing happened. But something felt… different.

For one, your workload, usually overwhelming, had mysteriously lightened. Tasks you had been dreading were suddenly reassigned. Even the small mistakes you made generally earned you a scolding and seemed to go unnoticed.

At first, you thought it was just luck. But then, little things started to stand out.

One evening, after a long day, you dragged yourself into a break room, exhausted. You had been assigned to help with an event that had left you completely drained. As you slumped into a chair, your coworker sighed beside you.

“Lucky you,” she muttered and stretched her arms. “I heard you were supposed to be on cleanup duty tonight, but someone switched it at the last minute.”

You blinked. “Wait… what?”

Your coworker shrugged. “Dunno. Some higher-up pulled some strings, I guess. Maybe you’ve got a guardian angel or something.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. A guardian angel? Yeah, right.

Meanwhile, Jungwon watched from the shadows, unseen. He knew he had no right to interfere. Not after what he had done, but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

So he helped in the only way he could.

He stayed silent and watched from a distance. Making sure you were okay. Doing whatever he could to ease your burden, even if you never found out.

Because if he couldn’t have you back in his life… this was the least he could do.

🫐

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand just as you were about to go to bed.

You groaned, rolling over to grab it, eyes squinting at the screen. Unknown Number.

For a second, you debated letting it ring, but curiosity got the better of you. With a sigh, you swiped to accept the call and pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

Silence.

You frowned. “Uh… hello?”

Finally, a voice. “Hey… it’s me.”

You pulled the phone away, staring at the number. It was definitely not saved in your contacts.

“…Sorry, who is this?” you asked cautiously.

A pause. Then, a chuckle. “Did you delete my number that fast?”

Your stomach dropped.

That laugh. That tone.

It hit you all at once.

Your fingers clenched around the phone. “Jungwon.”

Another silence. Then, softly-“Yeah.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like you couldn’t breathe.

Your brain scrambled to find something to say, but you could only stare blankly at your ceiling.

“I—What do you want?” Your voice came out smaller than you intended.

Jungwon exhaled as if he had been holding his breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just… I just needed to hear your voice.”

Your grip on the phone tightened.

“You shouldn’t have called,” you muttered. “You shouldn’t—”

“I know,” he cut in. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I couldn’t help it.”

You shut your eyes. “Jungwon, I—”

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he rushed out. “I should’ve told you a lot of things.”

Your chest ached.

“I knew it was you,” he continued. “I figured it out early. But I didn’t say anything because I was selfish. I didn’t want you to treat me differently. I didn’t want to lose what we had. I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t pretending,” he said softer now. “Everything I said to you was real.”

You pressed your palm against your forehead. You were overwhelmed.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but…” Jungwon hesitated. “Can I see you?”

Your heart pounded.

Could you face him? After everything?

🫐

You didn’t know why you said yes.

Maybe it was curiosity. Perhaps because you missed the feeling of something that had once felt so real. Or perhaps you weren’t as ready to let him go as you told yourself. So now, here you were. Your jacket covered your pj’s underneath. The air was cold, but not nearly as cold as the tension between you and the boy standing a few feet away. For a moment, neither of you spoke. He was wearing a hoodie, hands tucked into the pockets, eyes looking from you to the ground because he didn’t know where to start.

Seeing him now, after everything, felt surreal.

You swallowed. “So… you changed your number just to call me?”

Jungwon let out a soft laugh. “Yeah.”

You shook your head. “That’s insane.”

“I know.” His lips quirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I tried to leave you alone. I did. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You clenched your jaw, “You lied to me.”

Jungwon’s expression fell. “I know.”

“You let me embarrass myself. You let me tell you things…things I wouldn’t have said if I knew who you were.” Your voice was with frustration and hurt. “Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?”

“I do,” Jungwon said quietly. “And I hate myself for it.”

There was silence again. Then, Jungwon decided to take a slow step closer.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said. “I swear. I liked talking to you. I liked that you didn’t see me as an idol. You treated me like a normal person. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like one.”

You exhaled sharply and looked away.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” Jungwon continued. “But if any part of you still wants this, still wants me, then I’ll do anything to fix this.”

Your fingers tightened around the sleeves of your jacket.

Do you still want this?

Did you still want him?

You let out a bitter laugh while shaking your head. “You know what’s funny?”

Jungwon stayed quiet.

“I used to think it was ridiculous,” you admitted. “Liking someone you’ve never even met. Someone you only talked to through a screen.” You let out a breath. “But then… it happened.”

Jungwon’s expression softened, but he didn’t say anything.

“I told myself it wasn’t real,” you continued. “That it was just the comfort of having someone to talk to. It was easy to fall for someone when all you had were words and late-night conversations.” You swallowed. “But it felt real. And when everything came crashing down, it hurt like it was real.”

“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” you admitted. “But I did.”

Jungwon’s breath hitched. “You…”

“I liked you,” you said firmly this time. “I liked Goblin. Not Jungwon, not an idol. Just you.”

His hands twitched like he wanted to reach for you, but he held himself back.

“I ruined it,” he murmured. “Didn’t I?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know.”

It was the truth.

Jungwon was bracing himself for the worst.

You sighed and looked down at your feet. “I forgive you.”

He sucked in a breath. “You do?”

You nodded, “But…”

The relief that had started to settle in his features quickly faded.

“I want to take it slow,” you said carefully. “I want to learn more about you. You, not just the person I texted late at night.” You exhaled. “And I don’t know what to do, Jungwon. Even just meeting you here feels like I’m walking on thin ice.”

Jungwon pressed his lips together. He understood.

“If anyone finds out…” you hesitated as you glanced around as if someone could be listening. “I could lose my job. You could ruin everything you’ve worked for.”

“I know,” he murmured.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, “Then why are you even here?”

“Because you’re worth the risk.”

Your heart stuttered.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he said. “But I also don’t want to rush you. If you want to take it slow, we will.” He smiled. “I can wait. I mean, we already spent months texting. I think I can handle a little more patience.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips.

“Okay,” you said softly. “Then let’s take it slow

🫐

Months Later

You were swamped with work, running from one task to another, barely catching a break. The office was hectic as usual, with staff members moving in and out, handling schedules, coordinating events, and making sure everything for the idols ran smoothly. You had settled into a routine again, though now and then, you’d catch yourself glancing at your phone, wondering if he would first text.

Your relationship with Jungwon had been… complicated. Ever since that night, you had both taken slow but careful texts, occasional calls, and a few fleeting encounters in the company's hallways. He was still an idol, and you were still a staff member. Even though no one knew about the two of you, there was always a risk.

As you finished organizing some paperwork, your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Goblin: Come outside.

Your brows furrowed.

You: I’m working??

Goblin: Just for a second.

You sighed. But curiosity got the best of you, and you slipped out of the office, making your way toward the quieter side of the building. As soon as you stepped outside, you spotted him. Jungwon, standing near one of the company vans, dressed in casual clothes, a cap pulled low over his face. Even with his attempt to stay hidden, you could still recognize him.`

“What are you doing here?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Jungwon smiled, “I wanted to see you.”

You rolled your eyes. “We texted last night.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same,” he replied smoothly. “And I figured you could use a little break.”

You sighed. “Jungwon—”

Before you could argue, he held up a small bag. “I got you coffee.”

You blinked. “What?”

“And a snack.” He grinned, holding it out to you. “Figured you’d be too busy to get one yourself.”

You took the coffee from his hands, fingers brushing his for a fleeting second. “…Thanks, Goblin.”

Jungwon smirked. “You really won’t change that nickname, huh?”

“Nope,” you said and took a sip.

He huffed out a laugh.

You gave him a look. “What? You don’t like it?”

Jungwon stepped closer. “I don’t hate it,” he admitted before he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your mouth.

You barely had time to process it before he pulled away, grinning. “But I’d rather you call me something else.”

Your brain is short-circuited. “Like what?”

He shrugged, walking away with a smug face. “I don’t know. Maybe boyfriend?”

Your face burned as you gaped at him. “Jungwon!”

He only laughed, waving over his shoulder. “See you later, pretty.”

And just like that, he left you standing there, speechless.

You stared after him, then scoffed to yourself with a small smile.

“Guess ‘Goblin’ wasn’t so bad after all.”

930 notes · View notes

planetaryupscaled · 4 months ago

Text

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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cheapshrimpysheep · 5 months ago

Text

Pocky Game

SUMMARY: How would they react if you asked them to play Pocky with you? Do they already know the game? How do they act while playing? And who is the first to finish the biscuit stick and kiss the other?

CHARACTERS: All NRC students (except Ortho)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points; Kissing; suggestive?

WORD COUNT: An average of 310 words per character.

COMMENTS: I had this idea for some time but only now did I write it down. I don't know what else to tell to you other than: I hope you enjoy 😘

CONTEXT: The Pocky game is a party game played with Pocky, a Japanese chocolate- or candy-coated biscuit snack. Two participants place the Pocky between them “Lady and the Tramp” style, and try to be the last to hold onto the biscuit, often resulting in a kiss.

Since it's a game similar to the famous scene from "Lady and the Tramp" where they eat spaghetti, my headcanon is that this game exists in Twisted Wonderland.

How to play:

Pick a partner that you wouldn't mind kissing.

Face your partner and put a Pocky stick between you. Each partner takes an end of the Pocky stick in their mouth.

Each partner bites their end of the Pocky stick until their mouths meet in the middle. The first person to pull away loses!

Riddle has no idea what this game is, you'll have to explain it to him. “So, if I understand correctly, you lose if you pull away and you win if you keep eating the biscuit stick. Very well. It sounds simple. But is there any purpose to the game? Is it some kind of endurance test?” You say, in a way, it can be seen like that. He smiles.“I see. Are there any other rules I should be aware of before we begin?” You say no, that you already explained everything.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point the other side at him for him to bite. He does so and you begin the game. The closer he gets to your face the more he will blush. Until he starts having difficulty looking you in the eye and diverts his attention to the biscuit stick, which makes him make a cute face.

When there is only one bite left to finish the game, it is his turn and he pulls away. “W-wait!” The only times he gets redder than he already is is when he's angry, but of course this was not the case. “You never said there was a possibility that neither of us would pull away. If we both continue eating the biscuit stick until the end, what happens? Because if we had continued...” He looks away, embarrassed.

You apologize because you thought finding out during the game would have been a fun surprise. But you didn't know he wouldn't like the idea of... kissing you.

“What? No, no! It's not that I don't like the idea, I actually really wish I had done it... it's just that... I didn't know that it was the objective and I didn't want to, you know, be ill-mannered in case you...” Then he gets slightly upset with you. “You should have warned me! You lied to me when you said there were no more rules.” He smirks confidently. “If you were a student of Heartslabyul, it would have been off with your head for this. But I will allow you to play again and if I consider the end of the game satisfactory, you will have my forgiveness.”

In the second round, even though it's his turn, he will stop and hesitate, he wants you to be the one to consent. So you take the last bite and kiss him. You feel his lips relax. And If you deepen the kiss, he will reciprocate and hug you, pulling you towards him by the waist.

Ace knows this game so well that it's not you who invites him to play, it's he who invites you. “You also bought a box? Ha ha ha, we thought the same thing. That's a good sign.” He winks at you and smirks. “What box do we start with?”

While you play, he looks you in the eyes with a mischievous and provocative look, to see when you will chicken out and lose. The longer this takes, the more he will smile and the more smug his look will become. His face reminds you of a sly cat.

When there's only one bite left for your lips to meet, he stops, to let you choose whether to kiss him or give up and lose, while he looks you in the eyes defiantly.

If you finish the game and kiss him, his eyes will widen in surprise, but soon after that he will close his eyes and you will feel his lips form a triumphant smile. He place a hand on the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

He's the one who breaks the kiss with the most smug smile he's capable of. “Wow, chill out. We still have a lot of biscuit stick to play with.” There is a pause in which you reply. “What do you mean I was more excited than you?!” He blushes. “Lie! You were enjoying it as much as I was!... Wait! I mean...” He blushes even more. “You know what, let's play again to find out.” He smirks again.

The name of the game is not unfamiliar to Deuce, but you’ll have to remind him what kind of game it was. You explain the rules to him, that both players eat the biscuit stick from one side and the first one to pull away loses. “Okay, so whoever finishes the biscuit stick first wins?” He asks and you confirm.

“I see. So let's... wait! What happens if none of us pull away?” He asks innocently. You suggest that he finds it out while you play. And he trusts you, so he accepts the suggestion.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point for him to bite the other side. He does so, and as your faces get closer he begins to blush.

As the two of you take bites, it seems to bring out his competitive side, causing him to pay more attention to his bites of the cookie than to the fact that he's getting so close to you.

He's the one who takes the last bite and kisses you. But he'll quickly jump away and start apologizing. “Sorry, I didn't mean to- I mean I didn't think- expected-” He stammers, unable to finish a sentence and almost as red as when his Housewarden gets angry.

If he sees you looking sad or disappointed because it looks like he didn't want to kiss you, he'll immediately tell you that's not the case! Clumsily, and stumbling over his words.

“Wait... that... that's what you wanted? T-To kiss me?” The poor boy is a little slow. But now that he's realized this, he's going to try to muster up all the confidence he can and suggest that you try it again. And if you take out another biscuit stick to play again he'll be like: "Ah, yes! Try again the game, yes. That... that's what I meant, haha”

Cater was the one who had the idea. And it was probably trending on Magicam. He will ask you to play in the cutest way that only he knows how to ask. “Oh, you know this game too? So you can play with me right? Right, [Y/N]-chan~? You're not going to tell me that you've already played this with other people and you're not going to play it with me. You're going to make Cay-kun very sad, and a little jealy~.”

If you accept, he'll ask you if he can film you two playing. He promises not to post it on Magicam if you don't want him to, but the footage will be so cute that he'll at least want to keep it as a souvenir for himself. “Pretty please~?”

He will play like it's any other game, while looking sweetly into your eyes. Yes, he is taking the opportunity to flirt with you. If you get embarrassed, even just a little bit, he'll find it super cute.

He will let you take the last bite and decide whether to kiss him or not, while he looks at you seductively as a way to convince you to kiss him.

If you do, you'll feel his lips form a smile as he deepens the kiss. One of his hands on top of one of yours and the other on your cheek.

After the kiss, he will stay very close to you, wanting to hug you and with his forehead touching yours, laughing. Like those couples on social media.

Trey recognizes the name. “It's that game where two people eat the same biscuit stick until they meet in the middle, right?” He smiles awkwardly. “Isn't it usually played between crushes?”

If you answer yes in a way that makes him understand that that is exactly why you want to play with him, he'll give you that rare smirk of his, and chuckles. “Okay. I'll be happy to play with you.”

Even though he knows how the game works, he will let you have more control over the game. You'll take the first bite and he'll follow, as if the fun part for him was seeing you having fun and not the game itself.

He will be smiling sweetly the whole game, but when only the last bite is left, his smile turns into a smug as he looks into your eyes, and he kisses you, kindly and relaxedly. Then he'll pull away with that smug still on his face and he'll even lick his lip.

“Well, I guess we both won. That's what you wanted, right? Did I play well?” His expression is a mix of his gentle side with the rare cheeky side. “Oh,you would like I hadn't pull away so soon? Sorry, I'm still getting used to the rules of the game. I don't mind playing it again if you want. It was fun. With or without the biscuit stick.”

Yes, Leona knows what game this is, and he will tease you for wanting to play it. “Isn't that a cubs's play? How cute.” he says lying in the botanical garden, as always. “And why are you asking me to play? Do I look like someone who plays these games?”

You take that as a no (or at least as a 'try to convince me') So you say that if he doesn't want to, you'll find someone else to play with. Points if you say something like: "Maybe Tsunotarou would like to play with me."

“OI! I never said no! But if you want, you'll have to play with me lying down, because I'm not going to get up to make you that favour.”

He just straightens his head, resting it against the base of a tree before you begin. He opens his mouth for you to put the biscuit stick in his mouth. The only thing he'll do is bite that whenever it's his turn.

At first, his expression is neutral, almost bored. But every time your face gets a little closer to his, a smug smile forms on his lips. In the last bite, not only is he smiling, he's looking you in the eyes like a greedy predator.

He takes the last bite, attacking you with a kiss. He's been standing still the whole game, so when he does that you almost get a jump scare. Just like felines preparing to attack.

But he doesn't just attack you with the kiss. At the same time he puts his hands on your waist and makes you lie underneath him.

He breaks the kiss for a moment and looks at you to see your reaction with the most smug smile on his face. “As if this wasn't why you asked me to play with you. Now deal with the consequences.”

Jack doesn't know what game it is, but maybe he's heard the name somewhere. You'll have to explain it to him.

“Okay, it sounds like a simple game. And... You want to play it with me?” He says rubbing his neck. You say yes and if he wants too. “I... I think I don’t mind.” He says wagging his tail.

If you insist on knowing if he is really sure he wants to play with you, he will stop beating around the bush and tell you bluntly: “Yes. Yes, I would like to play it with you.” But blushing a liiittle bit.

You are the first one to put the biscuit stick in your mouth. He will follow you. He'll be flattered the whole game. He's never played a game so... intense for him.

Whenever your eyes meet, he looks away and his ears lower.

When there's only one bite left he'll stop and let you decide whether you want your lips to meet or not.

If you kiss him, his ears will immediately stand up straight! And if you don't pull away, he will relax, his ears will go back down, and he’ll deepen the kiss.

And you might be surprised when that shy boy a minute ago, suddenly pulls you close to him by your waist and turns the kiss into a passionate one. His tail wagging like crazy, by the way.

And as suddenly as he brought you closer to him, he will pull away, embarrassed for having let himself be carried away.

He will start apologizing and if you want to keep the flame burning, the best option is to shut him up with another kiss. He will love that.

A game that involves eating? Sign Ruggie up! A game that involves sharing food? “Hum... In that case I should have something else for the halves I let you eat.” He bargains with you.

You can try to dissuade him with something like: “But it's just a silly game. And it's just a biscuit stick.” But he will respond with: “It could even be a freshly picked dandelion, I don't play with food.” He's telling the truth, but trying to appear playful.

You suggest giving him the entire box if he plays with you once. But play the game the way it should be played, not finding a way to play around the rules just so he can keep the box. “Shye hee hee. Don't worry, I have no reason to do that.”

You're the first one to put the biscuit stick in your mouth and wait for Ruggie to start eating the other side. But he looked at you and the cookie with a mischievous look, came closer, opened his mouth and... ATE ALMOST THE ENTIRE THING IN ONE BITE! Leaving you just one bite away from placing your lips against his and ending the game. His gaze was cutely mischievous.

If you finish the game and kiss him, he will hold it for a second just to see if you don't pull away. And when he realizes that you are enjoying the kiss, he will grab you by the waist and deepen the kiss. And there is only one way to describe his kiss: Greedy

Azul doesn't recognize the name of the game, but when you explain it to him he realizes it's a land version of one that exists under the sea. And he'll ask you if he can see the box.

He glances at the front, but then turns it over to see the ingredients list on the back. He's counting the calories, isn't he? You try telling him something like, “Come on, it's just a silly game. Just a little biscuit stick.”

But to your surprise, he starts talking about how a game can be a brilliant marketing strategy, to wonder if he could incorporate those biscuit stick into a dessert on the Mostro Lounge menu and whether the students would be interested. You ask for his attention again.

“I’m deeply sorry for wandering off in thoughts while you were talking to me, but I heard everything you said, don't worry. And since you just gave me an idea for a special new item on the Mostro Lounge menu, the least I can do is accept your invitation to play. That might teach me more about this product. And... that way we’ll be even, correct?” He adjusts his glasses.

His confidence starts to slip as the game starts and he realizes how close your face is to his, and how close it will be by the end of the game. He tries his best to remain unmoved and maintain eye contact with you, but he can't stop the blush from appearing on his face.

When there's only one bite left, he stops so you can take the last one and decide whether the kiss happens or not.

If you do, you will feel the tension in his lips, but he will not break the kiss. And if you don't do it either, it will start to relax and deepen it. The tension turns into a smile and you feel his hands cupping your face.

Jade doesn't recognize the name of the game, and asks you if you could explain to him how to play and what it consists of. He recognizes the description as the land version of a game that also exists under the sea.

“Ah yes, I believe I understood how this game works.” Then he gives you that deceptive smile he does when his true intentions are suspicious but hard to tell. “And you chose me to play it with you? Well, I'm honored. I'm more than eager to partake in this land activity with you of all people.”

You are the first one to put the biscuit stick in your mouth. He follows you with a calm smile. But the eyes, they're focused on yours, intensely.

He follows the instructions you explained at the beginning, imperturbably, as if he were truly just following the rules of a simple game. But that was just what he showed. From the look in his eyes you could tell there was much more behind this behaviour.

He always shows himself so passive that it almost came as a surprise to you when he took the last bite like an attacked to kiss you. But his eyes weren't completely closed, just half closed. As if he was observing you and studying you while enjoying the kiss.

And when you start to deepen the kiss, he pulls away, with a charming and dangerous smirk on his face. “It seems that we ended the game in a draw. That is not usually a very exciting outcome, is it. Perhaps we should play another round. And perhaps... make up some new rules of our own. Wouldn't that be interesting?”

Floyd doesn't recognize the game by the name you said, but if your description makes it seem fun in some way, he'll agree to play with you. The problem is that it seems boring to him. It's just eating a cookie. What's so special about that?

You decide to reveal to him that the real reason people play it is to get a kiss from their crush at the end. This makes him smile mischievously. “Aaaah~ So that's why you want to play with me, isn't it Koebi-chan~?” The smile becomes cute. “And what is my reward if I play?”

You say if he doesn't want to kiss you he can just not play. And he sulks. “Ehh? That's not what I said. I want to know what I gain by playing.” He smirks. “Because I don't need to play to get a kiss, do I?” He pauses for a moment to appreciate your reaction. His cute smile returns. “Ah! I know, why don't you give me the box of biscuit stick as payment?” And then he says in that deep voice through the sinister smile. “You're not going to play with anyone else, are you?”

If you accept he'll be like ‘YAY. Let's play then! :3’. You are the one who puts the biscuit stick in the mouth first and he follows with a relaxed look and smile. He follows the rules like you said, but it seems like he's more focused on you than the stick, as if he was amused watching your movements and reactions.

He leaves the last bite for you, watching you with mischievous eyes and an amused smile. If you take the last bite and kiss him, he won't move, not even return the kiss, to see how long you can hold out like that.

When you break the kiss disappointed he will say with a smirk: “Aww, Why so sad? Wasn't it the win you wanted? I told you the game was boring.” He takes the box from your hand, and he wraps an arm around you to pull you close to him. “Now if you still want to make out, you should just do it you know? I'm in the mood so don't waste it.”

Kalim doesn't know what game it is but he accepts any invitation to play anything. He's like: “Of course I'll play with you! Hum... what game is that again?” And after you explain he will say with his big enthusiastic smile: “Sounds fun! I know I can't accept food from other people, but it's you, even Jamil says it's okay accepting things from you. So how do we start?”

You are the one who puts the biscuit stick in your mouth and points it to the other end for Kalim to bite. He does so with a cute, innocent smile.

He seems to be having fun playing. When there is only one bite left to finish the game, it is his turn, and he ends the game giving you an extremely loving kiss. Like a smooch.

He breaks the kiss with a huge happy smile on his face. “Ha ha! This is fun! Can we play again?”

He will make you play with him until the box is empty. And when he asks to play again and you say that the cookies are gone, he will say: “Ow, I was having so much fun. You too? That's great! We should buy more. I'll pay for all of them.”

When you go to the Mystery Shop to buy more and Kalim discovers that there are several flavours, he will buy ALL OF THEM! All of the ones that Sam has? Yes, because Sam, somehow and at that moment, has ALL OF THEM THAT EXIST!

Jamil knows the game because he's heard of it, If not from schoolmates, then from his sister or something. “Isn't that the game where two people eat a biscuit stick to kiss at the end?” He says this with a neutral face, but then he makes that smug face, with one eyebrow raised. “And you want to play it with me? *chuckle* Fine. I don't see why not. I just have one question: Will you allow me to finish the game however I want?”

You say that as long as you follow the basic rules, he can end the game however he wants. “In that case, don't forget that you were the one who allowed it.” He says.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth, but before he bites the other side, he puts a finger on your chin to tilt it a little and only then bites the biscuit stick.

He plays the whole game with that cocky smile. This is one of those rare moments where he lets his cheeky side show.

When there's only one bite left, he lets you decide how the game ends. The moment you touch your lips to his he will grab you and pull you towards him to deepen the kiss in the blink of an eye. Like a snake biting its prey in a single moment.

And then, he breaks the kiss, licking his lips, and still with his arms around your waist. “You're the one who said I could end it however I wanted as long as I followed the rules.” He says with a smirk and brings his lips closer to your ear. “I hope you haven't regret it.”

Yes, Vil knows this game. There was a time when it became very popular and he usually keeps up with those trends. Especially because sometimes they are incorporated into teen shows. “If I ever participated in one of those scene? No. No offence to the genre but I prefer to participate in films and genres that are less... melodramatic. That and IF I were cast in one of those shows there would be little chance of me getting the love interest role. I am perfectly aware that I’m more of a ‘mean girl’ type.” He says with a certain pride in both his voice and his face.

“And you want to play it with me?” He smirks charmingly. “My dear, you and probably all my fans. I hope you know that if I accept, firstly what a privilege and honor it is, and secondly, that this must remain between us. *chuckle* Well, if you understand that, then perhaps I can give you that pleasure.”

He lets you be the first to put the biscuit stick in your mouth and extend the other side to him, inviting him to bite. He does so with elegance and as if he were following some kind of etiquette for that game that you didn't even know could exist. That and he even places his index finger and thumb on your chin to adjust your posture while playing.

When there's only one bite left, it's his turn. He closes his eyes and kisses you gently and delicately. He'll stay like that for a second before breaking the kiss, and lovely looking at you with a soft smile.

“I must admit it was more satisfying than I expected. Thank you for inviting me to play. I shall be the one inviting you next time.”

Epel's never heard of that game, mostly because he's never been interested in that kind of stuff. So you explain it to him. But he doesn't quite understand why that would be fun. “So two people eat a biscuit stick from each side until someone pull away? But what if no one pull away-... wait... Don't tell me the goal is to kiss at the end!?”

When you confirm, his surprised expression begins to turn red. “A-and you want to play it... WITH ME?! No, it's not that I don't want to. I mean...! Hum... you just caught me off guard. But... yes, I... would like to play with you too.” He ends up agreeing with a sweet smile.

He starts playing a little shyly, but as you two take bites he starts to see it as a real game and his competitive side gives him confidence. So much so that when the last bite arrives and he takes it, kissing you, he only realizes it too late.

He quickly pulls away, blushing profusely! He stumbles over his words as he apologizes, because at the same time he also remembers that that was the intention of the game.

“EH! Wait! This is what you wanted, isn't it? Why am I apologizing? Oi! Are you laughing at me? Fine! Let's play again!” He gives you that confident smirk. “And this time, I'm not pulling away! I'm warning you!”

The second time you play he is definitely more confident. And he keeps his word, as soon as you kiss again, he doesn't pull away. His lips start out tense, but they relax as he forgets about the game and enjoys the kiss.

Of course Rook knows this game! A fun excuse for two lovebirds to kiss? How would he not know something like that? “Oh, and would you like me to have the honor of being your playmate? Mais bien sûr, Trickster! It will be my greatest pleasure.” He smiles enthusiastically.

“May I have the honours?” He asks, holding out his hand for you to hand him the box. He takes one of the biscuit stick and puts it in his mouth, inviting you to bite the other side and start the game.

He plays with a big “innocent” smile on his face. But eventually, as your faces get closer, his eyes change to that hunter's gaze.

When there's only one bite left for your lips to meet, he stops and lets you decide whether to take the last bite or pull away, while he fixes his intense gaze on you, observing you. Yes, he likes to hunt, but part of hunting is also setting traps and waiting for the prey to fall into them.

If you finish the game and kiss him, you will feel the smile he already had grow and the kiss becoming sweeter and more passionate. His hands cupping your face, him bringing his body closer to yours, and then one of the hands slowly leaving your face to end at your lower back.

When he finally releases your lips, he's looking at you with desire. “Très bien Trickster. Your lips are sweeter than the chocolate in the biscuit stick.” He brings his lips closer to yours again. “And now, I so ache to taste that mixture of flavours again. Would you allow me to play this once more with you? There are some sensations I would like to introduce you to, as a token of my gratitude.”

Ooh, Idia knows very well what game you are talking about. Probably for the same reasons that you know it too. “Do you think you're in an Otome game or something?” He mocks you with that smug smile. “And even if you wanted to live that fantasy, why me?” he sulks. ”Do you think I would be the only one to fall for this ‘cause of the games I play? That's a bit mean, don't you think? Or did the association of one thing with the other make you feel pity for me? I'm sure any student with good taste would love to play this with you, you don't need to invite me just because no one would do it with me.”

You tell him, in the form of a scolding, that you want to play with HIM! Not out of pity, but because you like him. And maybe, just maybe, you expressed it quite bluntly because of the adrenaline of being upset with him at the moment.

“Y-y-you like me?! C'mon, why would you?” You two continue to argue until he says something like: “FINE! I'll play with you, but when you lose because you pull away at the first bite, don't blame me.”

He's the one who reaches into the box and takes out a biscuit stick to put in his mouth and points the other end at you with an almost annoyed look on his face. Which looks more like a pout.

You take a bite, he takes another and so on. As your faces get closer, to your surprise, he seems to become more confident. Do you really want to play? He'll show you how a game is won! The heat of competitiveness escalates because of the dangerous mix of stubbornness of the two involved.

When there's only one bite left, it's his turn, and he's already so heated up by the game that he finishes it as if he were making the final strick. Turning your kiss into a surprisingly passionate attack.

But only for a second, until he opened his eyes in disbelief and immediately pulled away with his hair bursting pink, and the paleness of his face contrasting with his blush.

“I-I-I warned you!” He sees you smiling, and his smugness strikes with full force. “Oh! So you weren't just baiting, you really wanted it. Fine then. Next round! And this time I'm not going to chicken out in victory, you hear?”

Malleus is already beaming with joy that you invited him to something. The fact that it's a game only makes him even more excited. Even though he has no idea what game that is. You just explain the rules, that two people eat the same biscuit stick until someone pulls away and that person loses.

“I see. It seems like a simple game to play. But what happens if neither player pulls away?” You decide to respond with: ‘Why don't we play to find out?’ He laughs ans smirks. “Fearless as ever, Child of Man. Are you truly not concerned about what might happen if you withhold information from me? Fu fu. Very well. We shall see how our game ends.”

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point the other side at him for him to bite. He does it with a loving smile, and tries to take bites the same size as yours. He doesn't want to cheat without knowing it.

When there's only one bite left to finish, he stops, not knowing what to do. So you're the one who ends the game and kisses him.

He is surprised, but doesn't break the kiss, instead he maintains it and deepens it. He carefully puts his arms around you to bring you even closer to him. And then brings one of his hands to your cheek. You can feel him controlling his strength to make sure he doesn't hurt you, even though he wants to hug you tighter.

He breaks the kiss unexpectedly. “I am not hurting you, am I?” He asks slightly concerned. “I am learning to control my strength, but I am afraid I might run the risk of burning you with my breathe.” You say you weren't feeling hot at all, or at least not that kind. “That is other of my concerns. I may not hurt you at first, but if I let myself be carried away... I am not aware if the same thing happens to you, I hope so, but I feel the need to show you through actions like this how much I'm in love with you and that could be...”

You tell him that just as he learned to control his strength, he can learn to moderate other things. And perhaps the best way to do that is to continue training with you, little by little. Maybe with another round of that game?

Silver doesn't know this game, but if you’re willing to explain it to him he will be happy to play with you. You explain the rules except the part about what happens if neither player pulls away. But Silver doesn't remember to ask either and you start the game as soon as he understands the basic rules.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point to the other end for him to bite. He does so and plays as you had explained to him, taking a bite whenever it is his turn. His expression remains the same throughout the game... as always.

When there is only one bite left he stops, confused about what he should do and looks at you, or rather, into your eyes, looking for a hint or something like that. And you decide to be the one to end the game and kiss him.

He is surprised, but does not pull away. He just stays like that the whole time you do. Even though his lips are relaxed, it's as if he simply accepts it and does you the favor of staying there.

You're the one who has to break the kiss, probably disappointed that it seems like he didn't reciprocate.

“What's wrong?” He asks, with the same neutral face as always. “You look sad. Did I do something wrong while playing?” You explain to him, in your own way, that it seemed like the kiss was nothing to him, but he didn't pull away either, so you were confused.

“I failed to express myself again.” He says, now with a slightly disappointed expression. “I'm sorry. I... really enjoyed it.” He smiles for a second and then goes back to being disappointed with himself. “But I didn't know what to do, so I just... let you lead, I think. I understand now that I should have taken some kind of initiative. We could play again if you could give me a second chance? Would you be willing to tutor me in how to express myself to you through a kiss?” He smiles at you again. “I would be very grateful.”

Sebek doesn't even know what game you're talking about and he's already complaining about you wanting to play a silly game with him. But fine, he lets you at least explain the game and the rules.

“Just as I thought, a foolish human game. And it is not even productive as a sport to train the body or an intellectual one to train the brain. Why would I waste something as precious as time playing something like that with you? The game is simply two people eating a biscuit to see who can finish it the fastest. FOOLISH!”

You opened your mouth to correct him and say that that wasn't really the goal, but thinking about it, maybe it was a fun way to convince him to play. So you choose to insinuate that he is so slow at eating that he wouldn't be able to beat a mere human in such a competition.

“WHAT?! You believe you're up to my standards in any kind of physical competition? HA! That's what we're going to see, human.” He says smugly. “Pass me one of those biscuit stick, if you please.”

He's the first one to put the biscuit in his mouth, and he even crosses his arms looking at you with a defiant and cocky look.

You start playing, and quickly, without him noticing in time, he kisses you. But only for like half a second before pulling away in the blink of an eye. “AH! YOU DECEIVED ME!” He says with a serious and offended look but a blush on his face. “This is not a game, it's a trap! AND I FELL FOR IT!”

You ask if he didn't like it, and his blush only deepens. “Th-those weren't my words! Do not distort my speech!” So you ask, with a smirk, if he would play with you one more time. “Very well! We shall play again.” He smirks too. “ And this time I will not pull away! Be warned, human!”

As incredible as it may seem, Lilia doesn't know this game well, but he has heard of it. This is a recent thing for very young people, and as that phase of his life had already passed and Silver was never interested in those things, he ended up never having the opportunity to get to know the game.

You see his eyes light up with amusement and interest as you explain the game. “Khee hee hee, sounds like a simple but fun game.” Then, he smirk with a sly look. “I wonder what happens if neither of us pulls away. I assume you were inviting me to play because you are also interested in finding out? Fu fu. Let's play then. Will you do the honours?”

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and Lilia bites the other side. He plays with a cute expression rather than a smug one, probably to make you more comfortable and confident playing. His red gaze can be too penetrating, at least for the first round of the game.

When there is only one bite left to finish, he stops, even if it’s his turn. He wants you to be the one to decide how the game ends.

You take the last bite and kiss him. And now you can feel from his lips that his cute expression has given way to smugness again. He cups your face and deepens the kiss. He is surprisingly (or not) very skilful, so much so that if the kiss were a dance he would certainly be the one guiding it.

And he's the one who breaks the kiss, gently, and gives you a cute smile. “I know I'm irresistible, but let us save some energy for the next rounds, shall we? How many biscuit stick are in the box?”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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godmadeaterribleerror · 1 month ago

Text

Louder Than Fear

Main Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, smut (p in v, oral both receiving), light angst, sex pollen, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: Missions involving Hydra often go very wrong. This is different. This is worse. This is a strange bioweapon, nobody telling you exactly what's wrong, and staring at the ceiling as Bucky roars you name. It's echoing in your brain. And you love him.

So you have to fix this.

Author's Note: Sudden rush of Bucky content is doing nothing but feeding my preexisting addiction. Enjoy the result of that!

Word Count: 8.5k

It’s not technically babysitting duty. On paper it’s called monitoring and mediating. Ensuring agents do not get off track or engage in unprofessional actives.

On paper, you were supposed to be waiting in the car. But then Sam had started whining about being put on surveillance duty like he was a five-year-old, and you’d ended up walking them through the forest so he’d have company. Then Steve had pointed out that you’d be best at actually finding the target, and you’d ended up fifty feet underground in a Hydra bunker.

And he’d been right, you would be, but that wasn’t supposed to be your job.

You were supposed to be waiting in the car, monitoring and mediating.

If they’d just let you wait in the car, everything might have been fine. Bucky wouldn’t be strapped to the jet seat with his eyes squeezed tight, Steve wouldn’t be standing between you for reasons you don’t really understand, and Sam wouldn’t be on strict say one word and get stabbed orders.

You shouldn’t have gone into the bunker.

You shouldn’t have gotten distracted in the bunker.

“I just don’t see how this is a useful conversation-“

“You don’t need to see how it’s useful, Cap, you just need to accept that when it comes to pop culture, I’m always gonna be right-“

“But you’re starting from an advantage, it’s not a level playing field-“

Sam had laughed in your ear, and the sound was a little scratchy and static. “This isn’t a war, there doesn’t need to be a level playing field-“

“Well, once Bucky and I catch up on 21st century media-“

“Bucky isn’t catching up on shit, isn’t that right buddy-“

Steve had stopped in the middle of the hallway, and you’d almost slammed right into his back, stopped only by an impossibly strong, cool arm had wrapping around your waist and pulling you back right before the collision.

You’d leaned back to see Bucky still scanning around the dark hallway as he supported your body, he’d smelled so good, and it had been an effort to focus on Sam and Steve’s conversation.

“That’s rude, Sam-“

“I’m not insulting him.” You’d been able to picture the shit-eating grin on Sam’s face. “I’m just pointing out that the last time we tried to watch a movie, Bucky got mad at the CGI-“

“It was stupid.” Bucky had muttered, frowning at the air around him “Movies didn’t need to be doing so much.”

You’d mouthed along to his words—you’ve heard them before, and you’ll likely hear them again—and when you’d caught his eye, you’d thrown him a winning smile that just made him roll his eyes.

He’d still been holding onto you, even though you’d long regained your balance.

You were almost certain you’d seen his mouth twitch slightly in the dark.

“Then we’ll find some other movies, Buck, and-”

Steve had turned around to raise his brows at Bucky, but ended up doing a slight double take at the sight of you. Pressed tight to Bucky’s chest, his arm around your stomach, your eyes wide on Steve’s, and Bucky continuing to monitor the incredibly empty hall.

“I- uh-“ You’d been pretty sure Steve was blushing, and he’d definitely been stumbling over his words. “I can- I’m just gonna turn around-“

“Why?” Sam’s voice had been a little too loud and eager in your ear. “What’s going on? Are they making-“

“I fell.” You’d mumbled, your voice a little frantic. “And Bucky-“

“What did he do? Did he sweep you off your feet-“

“Shut up, Wilson.” Bucky still hadn’t been paying full attention. He still hadn’t let go. “Focus on the mission-“

You could picture Sam’s shrug. “Mission is boring. How exciting, Hydra’s taking up gardening-“

You’d frowned into the air. “It’s not gardening, Sam-“

“Right, sorry,” Sam had said your name, his voice at least a little apologetic. “Didn’t mean to shit on your thing-“

“Yeah, that’s not what I’m worried about.” You’d sighed, leaning your head a little back. You’d almost been resting it on Bucky’s shoulder.

He hadn’t pushed you away.

“Did you read Stark’s mission briefing-“

“No.” Sam had cut you off, and he’d sounded appalled you’d even suggest that. “It’s mostly just Tony kissing his own ass, and you and Golden Boy down there always go cover to cover, so why should I-”

You sigh. “Because then you’d know why it’s not just gardening, dumbass-“

Sam had gasped, and it had been one of the most dramatic ones you’d even heard. “That’s not very nice-“

“Shut up.” You’d raised your brows at Steve, who had been mostly trying to not look you or Bucky directly in the eyes. “Steve, tell bird-boy why it’s not just gardening.”

He’d nodded, staring very pointedly at a spot on the wall. “It’s, uh, they tried to make a bioweapon. With plants.”

“All I’m hearing is gardening-“

“Sam Wilson.” You’d snapped, and that had shut him up. You’d used what Stark called your Mom voice—where you stopped shouting and made your tone firm—and even Bucky had tensed behind you. “Stop acting like a middle schooler, or I’ll make you write a book report about the next briefing. Got it?”

Sam had sighed in your ear, mumbled an agreement, and Steve had shot you a nervous grin before he started shuffling back down the hall.

You’d had to poke Bucky’s face to get his attention, nodding to his arm around your body to get him to release you.

Once he had, you’d just kept walking, because you never allow yourself to think about those odd but frequent moments. The ones where Bucky touches you a little longer than needed, or did something protective that he’d probably do for anyone on a mission, but still made your head feel fuzzy and your gut a little warm.

The rest of the mission had run smoothly. Sam had shut up, and Steve had gotten distracted from the whole Bucky holding you like a doll thing by a few well-timed questions about how he’s doing on his self-inflicted music catch up mission, and you’d taken every single moment Bucky interacted with you and locked them deep in your chest.

You’d gotten good at that. You were a dragon hoarding gold, only the dragon was your dumb little heart, and the gold was Bucky’s attention.

He’d opened at door for you. He’d stayed on pace behind you like a very stoic, grumpy guard dog. He’d pulled you back by the collar of your shirt before you could walk right into a trap, and you’d ended up half off the ground, in his arms, and repeating to yourself it means nothing.

This means nothing.

To Bucky, this means nothing.

Then he’d spoken to you, and you’d almost tripped over your own rapid and electrified heartbeat.

“I read it.” He’d muttered in your ear, and you’d blinked up at him with a frown.

“What?”

He’d been looking at you. His eyes are an always little more than on yours, because whenever Bucky looks at you it’s feels like something’s branding on your spine. Sending tiny little sparking shockwaves through your body, making you stand a little taller and blink a little less, because it seems your body simply refuses to miss a single moment him.

“I read the mission report.” He’d grunted. It had sounded incredibly important for you to know. “I always do.”

“Oh. Good.”

And he’d looked really handsome. His mission suit fit him too well. His metal hand kept flexing, and it was making your breathing a little short. He’d been bullied into a haircut a few months ago, but most of it had regrown, and it framed his face so distractingly well.

And that had been the mistake.

You’d gotten really distracted. Even after you’d kept walking, Bucky’s voice just bounced and echoed around in your head, and when you’d found the bioweapon—it was just a big flower, but Sam never needed to know that—you’d been too slow to react.

The spurt of pollen had been aimed at you.

Bucky had jumped in front of you because he was a dumbass.

And now, you were here.

The moment Bucky had been sprayed in the face—you’ve strictly forbidden Sam from called it being hit with plant jizz—his whole body had tensed, his eyes had dilated, and he’d… taken off his arm. Let it clatter to the floor as his breathing became labored, and his eyes locked onto yours.

You and Steve had stared at him, you’d opened your mouth to ask if he was okay, and he’d raised his hand as if he could physically block the sound of your voice.

“Steve.” His words had been pushed through his teeth, so strained and weighted that it had ached a little in your chest. “Get her out.”

Steve had just frowned at him. “Bucky, what’s-“

“Out.” He’d hissed, and Steve—the loyal fuck—had listened.

You’d been carried back to the jet by Sam, Steve had gone back to get Bucky, and you’d had plenty of time to try and work out what the fuck had just happened.

It was a bioweapon. All of you had known that, but you didn’t know what it did. Bucky could be in pain, he could be suffering, he could be dying.

He certainly isn’t okay. He’d asked to be restrained, every time you speak he flinches, and he’s refused to put his arm back on. Steve keeps trying to ask him what’s wrong, and he just shakes his head and mutters something you can’t hear. Sam tried to sit down next to you and he fucking growls.

“Jesus, Bucky, did you get turned into a dog by the plant ji-“

You slam your fist into Sam’s gut, he doubles over with a groan, and Bucky won’t stop staring at you. It’s worse than the branding feeling. That’s always just from you, and it’s always unintentional. Bucky doesn’t know that you like his pretty face and his grumpy words, that you have very vulgar and inappropriate fantasies about the metal arm, or that every time you draw a chuckle or small smile out him it makes the whole world light up.

But this is brighter than the usual attention. This is a little feral, and he doesn’t look comfortable. Usually when he looks at you his body relaxes slightly, and you take that and bury it in your collection. Right now his stare seems to be carving right into your ribs and wrapping around your skin, like he’s trying to pull you apart with just his eyes. His breathing is ragged and loud, his nostrils keep flaring, and he’s leaning forward in his restraints.

And Steve’s a big guy, but not big enough that Bucky can’t lean around him to keep watching you.

Then his eyes start to droop, and you can see sweat stains all over his suit. He’s still looking at you.

He’s flushed and pale all at once, and he lets out a high, almost whining sound of pain-

“Sam.” You whisper, afraid to look away from Bucky for even a second. “Can you please-“

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam presses his hand to Bucky’s brow, his eyes widen slightly, and you feel a little sick.

“Shit, uh, Steve-“

Steve moves without question, and his reaction is an almost twin look of worry.

“Goddamnit.” He looks back to you, saying your name cautiously. “It’s- he’s burning.”

“FRIDAY,” you mumble, because maybe they’re both wrong. Maybe the jet is warm. “Can you please check Bucky’s temperature?”

“Sargent Barnes has a fever of one-hundred and four point six degrees. Would you like me to alert the Compound to prepare for medical response?”

You swallow, your hand curling into a fist to stop it from reaching out and touching him. He’s got firm lines on his brow and you’d like to trace them. Sooth them out.

“Send his vitals to Bruce and Tony too.”

Steve takes over for you, and you’ll have to thank him later, when your heart isn’t pounding and banging in your ribs, and Bucky doesn’t look like he’s trying to fly out of his skin.

You don’t know why he jumped in front of you. You would’ve been fine. Whatever’s affecting him wouldn’t affect you. And he should’ve known that.

“Why does Stark call you Mother Earth?” He’d asked you once, suddenly a few feet behind you in the kitchen, and you’d blinked at him.

He’d only just moved into the compound. His hair was still a little greasy—he hadn’t been introduced to the wonders of coconut oil and conditioner yet—and there was still a weary, haunted expression on his face almost every waking second. He didn’t talk to anyone but Steve because it was Steve, his government mandated therapist because he had to, and Sam and Peter because they didn’t know how to not talk.

But there he was.

Talking to you.

“Because I have plant powers.” You’d shrugged, turning back to the stove. “And Tony’s convinced he’s a comedic genius.”

Bucky had moved to lean against the counter, and he’d still been watching you. It was the first time you’d gotten that warm, bright feeling up your spine. “What do plant powers do.”

“The technical term Bruce uses is chlorokinesis.” You’d started to fish through the cabinets for a mug, keeping your voice calm and even. “I can control and manipulate botanical life. But I’m also invulnerable. To physical injury and allergies, because I’m basically half-plant myself, so I can like, regrow or whatever. I mean, plant powers is pretty fucking self-explanatory-“

You’d paused, glancing at Bucky with an apologetic expression.

“Sorry.” You’d mumbled. “That was mean.”

He’d given you an odd look, and for a second you’d thought he would leave. Push off the counter and walk away, never sparing a glance in your direction again.

But he’d just stared at you with that unreadable expression. And when he’d finally spoken, his words weren’t clipped or rough. They’d sounded almost easy. Calm.

“Do you need help?”

You’d swallowed, your hand still reaching half over your head. “What?”

“You look like you’re having trouble.” He’d nodded to your outstretched arm, frozen in the cabinet. “I can help.”

You’d nodded, he’d closed the space in one second, and his body had been warm. Almost radiating heat, setting your skin on fire when just his fingers brushed yours. He’d handed you the mug with an expression on his face that was almost a grin, you’d smiled back, and that had been it.

You’d been gone.

You’d barely even stood a chance.

Your heart had passed itself into Bucky’s hands, and he’d held it so carefully without ever knowing. He stayed near you and fed your hunger for him all the fucking time. He literally fed you, because the thing that seemed to fascinate him the most about modern times was the food—to the point that Tony put a weekly cap on his DoorDash account—and whenever he knew you were at the compound, he’d make you eat with him.

And Sam had been right. Bucky did have an odd, amusing determination to remain entirely an old man, but it was also adorable and charming in a way Sam simply did not know how to appreciate. You’d learned that—to make Bucky consume any remotely modern media—you just had to let him show you something in trade. You’d listened to a lot of Bing Crosby and Duke Ellington just to make Bucky experience one Beyonce song.

His eyes had been so wide the entire time you’d been worried they’d pop out of his head.

You’d caught him listening to it again almost two weeks later, mumbling along to the lyrics in a way that was more sound than word.

And you’d fallen a little further. Over and over in small moments like that one, stronger and stronger as Bucky’s smile turned from a grimacing, almost mechanical movement as he relearned how his face worked, into a broad, almost goofy expression that he seemed to reserve for the people that sat with him in silence when he needed it, and smiled at him without expecting one in return.

The list was short. Limited to you and Steve, as well as Sam under very dire circumstances.

You’d never allowed yourself to read too far into that.

But it was hard not to now.

Because Bucky wasn’t looking at anyone but you. Whenever his eyes flutter in his sleep, or he wakes up with a low moan, his gaze locks onto your open expression of worry. He keeps groaning something that sounds like your name in his sleep.

You want to help him.

He curls away from you with almost a snarl every time you try to even get out of your seat.

And you’re so confused.

Steve mutters your name when the jet lands, and he’s not looking away from Bucky as he speaks. “Don’t get out of your seat until we get Bucky sedated.”

You nod nervously, right up until the word sedated catches up with your brain.

“Wait, don’t-“

“We have to.” Steve’s voice is firm. Low and unwavering. “I’ll explain later. Stay in your seat.”

He’s not asking. That’s an order.

And it only takes a few moments for you to realize why.

Bucky fights. The medic team wakes him up as they try to move him out of the jet, and he fights like an animal. This isn’t his usual, controlled and calculated movements. This is wild, with roars and noises that are almost primal ripping out of his chest.

He doesn’t stop looking at you, or saying your name, and the noise is almost pleading.

You have to cover your ears. If you heard any more you would’ve damned it and helped him, and you have a feeling it would’ve made everything worse.

It takes Steve, Sam, the whole med team, and a very concerned Natasha to get him down.

And you’re alone in the jet. Left to wander your way back to your room, your hands shaking slightly and your head spinning.

He would’ve been fine. If you’d just stayed in the car, or you’d been fucking paying attention and had moved faster—dodging the spray yourself or making sure it hit you instead of Bucky—everything would’ve been fine.

Nobody tells you what’s happening. You lay on flat the bed, stare up at the ceiling, and your brain begins to feel a little foggy.

You can still see him staring at you. The sight is almost seared onto your vision, and everything seems to be lined with blue wherever you look. He’d been in pain. This building has the most advanced medical technology in America, and these people have access to all the best doctors in the world, but as far as you know he’s still hurting. Still screaming and thrashing, still burning up and probably all alone, because this is the exact type of thing that can’t happen to him.

Fuck. This can’t happen to Bucky. If it was Steve they’d be worried, but he’d be treated with more care. No brutal slamming of his body against the jet wall, no sedative specifically tailored to make him go down. If it was Sam there wouldn’t need to be as many resources exerted to get him down. Bucky would’ve just punched him in the face with no shortage of glee in his expression, and everyone would be fine.

But Bucky’s going to have to get mental clearance. That wasn’t the Soldier, but they’ll be worried it was. You’d still seen Bucky behind his eyes—simply a panicked and desperate version of him—but no one’s going to see that but you. Even Steve will elect to be safe rather than sorry.

You’d fucked it up for him. He’d been doing so well, and you’d fucked it up with your dumb, distracting infatuation. And you don’t even know if he’s still in pain.

“FRIDAY?” Your voice is soft, barely audible even in the silence, but the AI hears you anyway.

“How can I help you, Mother Earth?”

You’re going to need to stab Tony later. Right now you have bigger worries.

“Is Bucky okay?”

“I’m sorry, agent,” FRIDAY says your last name, and her voice doesn’t sound very sorry. “I have been blocked from sharing any information about Sargent Barnes with you indefinitely.”

You sit up on the bed, glaring around the room. “I’m- what? Why would- what? Who blocked me?”

“The order was issued by Agent Romanov.”

“Can you please unblock me?”

“Unfortunately not. Your admin privileges have been removed from my system until further notice.”

You gape at the ceiling. “Who did that?”

“Dr. Banner put in the request, and it was approved by Mr. Stark. You are also under strict orders not to leave your quarters. I have an audio recording from Mr. Stark for you that can be played upon request. Would you-“

“Play it.” You snap, then flinch at your own harsh tone. “Sorry. Please play it.”

“Hey, Mom.” Tony’s voice fills the room, the usual light apathy in his voice filled with something heavier. Almost tired. You almost forget to be mad about him calling you mom. “Before you get all pissed and turn my house into the Amazon, we didn’t want to do this. Tall, dark, and murdery keeps saying your name, and until we work out what’s wrong with him I’m not comfortable having you wander around. Sorry.”

The audio clicks off, and Tony’s getting stabbed twice now.

“FRIDAY,” you chose your words carefully, keeping your tone even and natural. “Can you please tell me who’s near residential room sixty-seven?”

“Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark are standing the hall, Dr. Banner recently entered the room, and Agent Romanov just left the wing.”

“Can you patch me to Natasha, please?”

“I am alerting the agent of your request now.”

It takes a long, painful second, but Natasha picks up. You barely wait for the static hum of the call to fill the room before you’re talking, staring at the corner of your room where you know Tony keeps the camera.

“What’s wrong with him.”

Natasha sighs over the speaker. “I can’t tell you that,” she says your name in a worryingly gentle voice, and your hands curl back into fists. “You know I can’t.”

“I’m not-“ You swallow, holding your gaze on the camera. “Please. Just tell me what’s going on-“

“We’re going to fix it. Tony and Steve are looking at options-“

“Options for what?” Your voice is pleading. You don’t care. “Nat, I’m can’t- I’m really worried-“

“I know you are.” Her voice is still gentle. You can taste bile in your throat. “Which is why we can’t tell you. I’m-“

“Don’t say sorry.” You snap. “Just, just tell me he’s okay. Please.”

There’s a long silence. It’s an answer enough, and it sinks too deep into your skin.

Natasha’s a good liar.

Why can’t she just lie.

“He will be okay.” Her tone is cautious, and you can picture her frown. “We’ll make sure he’s okay.”

“Can I help?” You whisper. “With anything? Please?”

She’s silent again. You’re going to throw up.

“Nat-“

“I’ll call you back.”

The line goes dead, and that time, she’d lied. She doesn’t call you back. Time drags on and comes to odd, stuttering halts as you sit in the silence, and when you finally clear your throat and sit up once more, it’s dark outside.

“FRIDAY, can you please give me the feed of the hallway outside residential room sixty-seven?”

The AI doesn’t bother to answer you, silently patching you through.

You don’t think she’s really supposed to. But she seems to like that you say please.

Natasha, Steve, and Bruce are huddled outside of Bucky’s room, their voices low, but not enough for FRIDAY not to pick up the audio.

“He’s not getting any better.” Bruce mutters, his head turned down. You can see him fidgeting with his glasses, and you can picture the frown on his face. “And I am beginning to worry. There’s just- there’s nothing else I can do.”

Steve shakes his head, and the panic in his voice sounds a lot like the wired, tense little bubbles rising in your throat. “But- Bruce there’s got to be another option, we work in a miracle factory-“

“And I’m afraid I’m out of them, Cap. I’m sorry, it’s- it’s the only option.” Bruce sighs. “Hydra was very thorough.”

There’s a long moment of silence you can’t understand, the hum of the audio clashing horribly with the ringing in your ears, and then-

“He won’t take anyone else?” Natasha sounds desperate. It’s louder than an alarm echoing through the compound. “What about- Have we tried the pocket pussy?”

“He broke it.” Steve mutters, his face red, and a lot of things click into place at once.

The heavy breathing, and tension in his body, and animalistic sounds and behaviors. The dilated eyes, and restraints, and intense gaze.

Lustful gaze.

Oh.

Fuck.

“And Bucky’s been very clear with us that he refuses to do… that with anyone but her.” Steve’s still talking. The room around you is a little hazy. “Tony even offered to hire someone, and he said he’d rather uh, castrate himself.”

Natasha lets out a slow breath, her words slow and careful. “She’d say yes-“

“I know she would, Nat, that’s not my worry.” Steve shakes his head, frowning at the door. “She’d say yes to help him, and he’d- It would break him. If that was it.”

“And I’m trying to get it into your skull, Rogers, that wouldn’t be it-“

“You don’t know that-“

Natasha lets out a dry laugh. “I’m pretty sure I do. You’d have to be blind not to see it-“

“I’m not blind, I just don’t want Bucky to get hurt-“

“He wouldn’t get hurt, that’s what I’m saying-“

“And when he does? We can’t kick either of them out, and he- You don’t know how serious it is for him, Nat.” Steve sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “He called it a love a first sight thing.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “That probably makes two of them.”

And Natasha says your name. Everything slows, but not like in a movie. More like being underwater, where it’s just a little harder to see and hear, and you’re pushing against something that all around you, and it’s cool and easy but you’re drowning-

Then you breach the surface.

And the world becomes too fast around you as Natasha just keeps talking.

“She was begging me to help, Steve. She wouldn’t regret it-“

“And Barnes is running out time.” Bruce jumps in, giving Natasha an apologetic look. “I don’t believe he’ll allow another, no matter what levels or heights his desperation reaches, especially if he’s as… infatuated as you say.”

“He is.” Steve mumbles. “It’s… Geez, Bruce, he’s like a lost puppy.”

“So let’s go get his owner.” Natasha gives Steve a pointed look, and you swallow. “She at least deserves a choice.”

You.

You deserve the choice.

The feed drops black, and you’re going to get a choice.

It’s barely a choice. It’s more of an instinct. Steve and Bruce shuffle into your room with nervous smiles, explain the situation—you don’t want to give away that you’d been spying, it would likely just make things more complicated—and the words are Bucky’ll only, well, he’s refusing anyone but you are barely out of Steve’s mouth before you nod.

You say yes. And Steve stares at you, opening his mouth to say something he seems to think better of, and you hold is gaze.

You mean it.

And no amount of shock over the situation, no amount of stunning revelations or Tony’s worrying about you coming out, no pun intended, right side up will make you not mean it.

They give you an escape plan.

You won’t use it.

Bucky’s entirely naked when you walk into his room. Pulling a blanket over his lap before your eyes can wander further down from his darkened, painfully handsome face and broad chest. He’s sitting tall and rigid on the edge of his mattress, almost tracking your every movement as you walk through the door, jaw ticking when it closes behind you.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” He mutters. “I told Steve I’d be alright-“

“Steve told me you’re in love with me,” you blurt, and Bucky stares at you.

You hadn’t meant to just say it. You’d been planning a large build up, where he’d accuse you of pitying him and you’d say I don’t pity you, I love you, and I know you love me too.

But his first few words had been barely a rasp. He was flushed all over his body, his breathing was somehow far too deep and shallow all at once, and you can see the muscles twitching in his body. He seems to be forcing himself to barely even shift on the bed, and the mattress is creaking under the weight of his metal arm.

He put the metal arm back on.

Based on how the sheets are stained and the blanket over his lap has shifted, you have a good idea why.

Your knees are a little weak from just the sight of him.

And it’s no longer just Bucky who needs the whole we’re both idiots, because I love you conversation out of the way quick.

“Steve fucking told you-“

“He didn’t know he was telling me.” Your voice is quick, your eyes widening slightly as you cut off Bucky’s growl. “I may have been, um, spying.”

Bucky scans you over slowly, and his mouth does the small curve that means he’s dangerously close to a real smile. “Spying doesn’t really sound like you,” he says your name, and where it would normally be a drawl it’s a growl. Your legs are going to give out. “Hydra blast you with something too?”

“I’m branching out.” You mumble, playing with the fabric of your shirt and forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “Are you? In love with me?”

Bucky’s nostrils flare, and he’s watching you like he thinks you’ll disappear. Like he’s certain you’re a trick or lie or something sent to hurt him, but he’d really like you to be real.

You’d like to be real. For Bucky, you’d like to be almost anything.

And he nods, and you’re lucky the adrenaline and fear for Bucky’s health are outweighing how your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

“How-“ You have to clear your throat, your voice weaker than you’d like. “How long?”

He suddenly won’t meet your eyes. “You gave me flowers.”

You blink at him. “Bucky, I don’t-“

“Steve was introducing me to everyone.” He mutters, bowing his head. “I don’t even know where you came from, but we turned a corner and you were just… there. Like you’d formed out of thin air or something. We startled you, and you screamed. Really loud.” You think your skin might be burning up, but Bucky’s voice has a soft sort of fondness to it that keeps you from exploding on the spot. “You were really pissed, yelling at Steve about how he should know better, and your hands were full. You handed me your flowers, and you shoved Steve. He didn’t budge, and that just made you angrier. Another flower grew out of the wall. You gave me that one too.”

“Oh.” You whisper, and Bucky just nods. “And you- when did you-“

“The moment you screamed.” He frowns at himself, shaking his head. “Not because of the scream, it was a- You weren’t afraid. You screamed but you were mostly just angry, and you gave me flowers. Helped that you were beautiful.”

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I-“ You swallow. “I thought you didn’t remember that. You asked me what my powers were-“

Bucky’s flush deepens. “Just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh.” You swallow, titling your head at him. “And- When you jumped in front of me-“

“Instinct.” He’s glaring at the floor like it’s personally responsible for this whole situation. “Didn’t think. Saw you were going to be hit. Jumped.”

His words are starting to become more and more clipped and strained, as if your very presence is bending him to a snapping point.

“That wasn’t very smart, Barnes.”

“I know.” He mumbles, shoulder dropping like he’s trying to cave in on his own body, and you sigh.

“But I get it. And I- I just don’t want- I need you, Bucky. Don’t do that again.“

He nods, you don’t think he actually heard you, and you need him to look at you.

When you take a careful step forward, he glances up, but it’s weary.

“You grabbed my mug.” You whisper, giving him plenty of time to stop you before you’re standing between his legs. He doesn’t, and you take his face in your hands, your smile widening as he stares at you. “It felt like I- I could’ve died, Bucky. It was… Very big.”

It’s a strange thing to say, but there’s no other way to describe the true mass and power of how fast your love for Bucky had hit you, how quick it had sunken into your bones and mixed with your blood, and how fast your entire body had been rewritten with that knowledge as code. You love Bucky.

It’s just as natural as you need to breathe air.

He seems to understand, because he nods slowly, but it quickly turns into shakes of his head, limited between your hands.

“You don’t have to do this-“

“I don’t.” You shrug, holding his gaze. “But I’m going to. Because I love you.”

He grunts, his body almost vibrating under your touch, a visible spasm wracking his body at the words. “I- Not like this.” His words are barely audible, pushed through his teeth. “It shouldn’t be like this.”

“Bucky-“

“No. I’m not- I could hurt you. I’m not going to fucking hurt you.”

You sigh. “You can’t hurt me-“

He lets out a dry laugh. “As romantic as that is, doll, I very much can hurt you-“

“No. You literally cannot hurt me.” You raise your brows at him, your voice flat. “I’m invulnerable.”

He blinks at you, and somehow goes redder. “Oh. Right. That- I forgot.”

You giggle, running your fingers through his hair and he scowls.

“There are million assholes with a million powers, how the hell am I supposed to keep track-“

“I’m not laughing at you, Buck. You’re cute.” You smile at him, and all the tight annoyance vanishes from him expression in a single second. He’s staring at you again.

And no one’s ever looked at you like that. Like you’re maybe brighter and more critical than the sun, and you’re pulling them in stronger than the moon and the tides.

But he’s still shaking under your touch. And fuck, up close you feel even weaker. You can see every flex of his muscles, every bit of desire in his blown-out eyes and expression, the way he’s poking through the sheets over his lap and how there’s already a dark spot of pre-cum forming a stain-

You cough, your head already going a little hazy. “I want to help, Bucky. I really do, and you won’t hurt me, but if you really don’t want it, I’ll go-“

You’re falling forwards before you know what’s happening. And any yelps or squeaks of surprise are swallowed as Bucky slams his mouth into yours, and everything else in the world fades to humming color.

Everything becomes second to this.

To Bucky.

He mostly tastes like salt from the sweat dripping down his body, but under that is a heavy, strong thing that might just be him. His tongue shoved down your throat and his hands gripping your hips like a lifeline, every low and feral grunt that rumbles through his chest making you moan down into his mouth.

Nothing about this is controlled or careful. It’s teeth and spit and brutal want, bubbling up and bursting over as he nips at your lower lip and you start to grind down against him, his touch starting to wander and squeeze at the skin of your back and ass and thighs, the touch of his metal hand soothing as you scratch at his shoulder, the heat of your bodies feeling strong enough to start a small fire. Bucky’s whole arm wraps around your waist, pinning you to his chest, and when your hands fist in his hair his hips jerk up, the bump of his cock against your core making you almost melt into his body.

He’s throbbing. With the barrier of the sheets gone you can feel every inch of him wedged between your legs, and God, he’s so hard you’d think he was just a stick if you couldn’t feel every jump and twitch of his cock against your clothed thighs.

“Bucky-“ You force yourself to pull back, keep your brow pressed to his as your hips continue to roll against him. “We- Fuck, I-“

Words are a little too far away, and it doesn’t help that he won’t stop kissing you. He’s in pain and you need to fix it, but he also keeps sucking and licking over your jaw and cheeks, he’s dropping down to just bury his face in your throat, and this isn’t about you but fuck, that feels good-

You give up on words. You’ve spoken enough for now, and right now you just need to-

Bucky grunts your name as you push him off of your neck, squirming back until you’re falling to your knees before him.

“What’re you-“

You trace one hand up his thigh, trying not to spend too much time marveling at his dick. You’ve dreamed of this moment, devoted whole long and boring meetings and sleep cycles to it, and it’s still better than you’d imagined.

He’s perfect. Not big enough that you’re worried for your health, but enough that you might need to be carried around tomorrow. And he’s thick, and firm in your hand, and when you swipe your thumb over the weeping head of him, Bucky makes a sound that settles right between your legs-

“You don’t-“ He groans as you pump him once, twice, squeezing at the base of his cock and rubbing his thigh with your free hand. “Jesus, this- you’re not playing fair, doll-“

You smile up at him, and you’ve really never seen anything better than Bucky’s wrecked and desperate expression, his hair sticking to his brow and his jaw clenched so tight you’re shocked he’s able to speak.

“I think you’ll live,” you whisper, letting your hand drift down to cup his balls. “And I want to.”

Something like wonder glows behind Bucky’s eyes as he hisses your name, and the sound quickly turns to the loudest, most primal sound you’ve ever heard as you take him in your mouth in one movement.

You set a quick and even pace, bobbing up and down his cock until he’s bumping the back of your throat before pulling almost all the way off and licking a long stripe along the underside. It only takes a moment for Bucky’s hand to shoot in your hair, not guiding your movements but almost trying to keep you steady around him, his grip tightening every time you squeeze and play with his balls, his movements still painfully controlled against you.

He needs not to hold back. You don’t want him to hold back.

You reach back to hold his hand on your head—it’s the right one, and you make a comfortable bet that it’s on purpose—tangling your own fingers in his, and you start to move. Properly fucking your own face against him, squeezing his hand in silent encouragement whenever you almost choke on him, grinding your hips near his calf in silent encouragement.

Bucky moans you name when you swallow against the tip of his cock, and it’s a final warning.

You moan around him, and that’s it.

He starts to slam up into you, and you have to grab his knee to keep balance, tracing small circles with your thumb to let him know you’re okay.

You’re more than okay. Every sound Bucky makes is slurred and unintelligible, but you can get the idea. It’s odd combination of your name and praise, all sparking further heat in your gut as Bucky grows sloppy, his cock jumping and twitching in your throat.

He roars your name as he cums down your throat, and you need to hear that sound again. It spurs on your desperate grinding—half against the air, your clit bumping against Bucky’s leg if you get the right movement—and you barely manage to swallow all of his release before he’s pulling you off his cock and hauling you back up like you weigh nothing.

The kiss he moves you into—your body curled back on his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist—is a little softer than before, and you think you managed to take just a slightly edge off his problem. It’s still devouring and deep and filled with so much passion you might cum just from the feeling of Bucky’s tongue tracing over your lips and teeth and throat, but it’s slower.

“So fucking good, doll.“ His voice is a growl down your throat, and you wiggle in his hold, every bit of your own need suddenly slams into your body. “God- Don’t know how I got you, but I’m never- Wanna keep you-“

You nod, not really registering anything but Bucky saying your name and a warm feeling of good. Bucky and good, that’s burning and rolling around in your chest and stomach.

“You like that?” Bucky squeezes at your ass, and you whimper. “I’m gonna take care of you, sweet girl, make you feel just as good as I felt, seeing those gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock-“

You’re not sure how he’s capable of speech right now, but he’s talking and it’s ignite every fiber of your body, and you can only barely shake your head, pulling at his hair as you try to drag yourself together, because this isn’t about you-

The sound that leaves you when Bucky flips you over—pinning you between his body and the mattress—isn’t dignified or coherent, but you don’t really care. Not as his knee moves between your legs and your clothing gets ripped off of your skin in effective and feral movements, leaving you a puddle of need and loud moans beneath Bucky’s touch.

He’s hard again. You can feel him poking against your lower stomach as he kisses you into a dazed and high mess, and it must be painful but you still can’t really figure out how words work. How to say anything that isn’t a loud moan of Bucky.

You try to squirm, to off him at least a little friction because this is supposed to be about him, but his metal hand traps your hips, halting your every movement as he hauls himself up.

He’s just staring at you. You’re drooling a little, your chest heaving as you try to get in a breath, and your hands are still tangled in his hair for balance.

You’re lying down, but you need balance.

Because Bucky rolls his knee against your bare pussy, and your back arches off the bed with a gasp that makes his eyes flash, his dick pulsing right on your skin-

“Please-“ The word is barely audible, but it’s all you can manage. “Bucky, I- You need to-“

He nods, diving down to a long, heavy kiss and groaning as you try to grind up into him, but then he’s gone.

Not gone.

Moving down to settle between your legs, his breath hot over your cunt and his eyes wholly black as he takes in the mess between your legs.

“Wait, Buc-“ You whine as he pulls your legs further apart, the metal hand dragging two fingers between the soaked folds of your pussy. “Shit- You don’t- This is supposed to be about you-“

“This is about me.” He grunts, his right hand trailing slowly up your inner thigh, and when you crane your neck to look at him there’s almost a fascination on his face. “Said you’d feel good.”

“I do- I am good-“ Your hips fly off the mattress as he kisses right over your clit, and the metal arm moves to pin you back against the mattress. “You don’t need-“

He latches his lips over your clit, sucking and licking as his free thumb presses right over your entrance, and you choke on the air.

“Bucky- fuck-“

“Want to,” he growls, the sound humming and deep and right over your pussy, and you can’t gasp his name enough. “Hold on.”

Your hands blindly follow his order, one fisting in his hair as the other grips his metal arm, and you’re not sure how you don’t black out.

There’s something a little clumsy to his movements–decades without practice will do that—but that only seems to make it better. He’s not calculated and deliberate. You’re not a mission or a means to an end.

Bucky eats your pussy like he wants to. Like he’s been starved for it, and there’s nothing more he needs in the world. It’s not gentle but it’s attentive, he’s keeping you right on the edge—pulling his hand away and replacing it with his tongue, letting his nose bump you clit until he moves back to pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering cunt—and you can hear the bed start to squeak as his own hips rut against the mattress.

You try to moan his name, but you can’t think, so all that comes out is a high, needy whine.

He understands. His metal hand moves to tangle with yours, grounding you slightly as you hang right over the edge of release, and when his finger crook on that one, sensitive spot deep inside of you, fireworks burst in over your body as you cum with a strangled scream.

Bucky makes a deep sound against your pussy as you start to roll in his hold, and you don’t get a chance to catch your breath before he’s crashing back up to your mouth.

He moans your name against your lips, his cock pressed right against your still fluttering cunt, and you nod.

“Now,” you manage to whisper, spreading your legs widen in a silent invitation. “Bucky, need more-“

Whatever amount of control he’d had only a few minutes ago is almost completely. Bucky flips you onto your stomach without effort, hauling your ass into the air with firm but gentle hands, and slams himself into you with one movement. You gasp as he bottoms out, and he doesn’t move.

Somehow Bucky manages to still have enough of a hold over himself to give you time to adjust, even if it’s not without effort. You can hear the low grunts leaving him as he half folds himself over your body, kissing slowly up your spine and resting his brow on your shoulder, his breathing ragged and sharp as you clench around his cock.

“Fuck-“ Bucky hisses your name, shaking his head. “Can’t do that, I’m not-“ You do it again, and he moans. A real, loud moan. “You’re- fuck-“

“Please,” you wiggle your ass against him, and his hands tense on your body. “I- I’m good-“

“Yeah, you are.” His mutter is filled with low wonder, and it just makes you squeak. “You want it, babydoll?”

You moan, nodding stupidly. “Yes-“

The word is barely out of your mouth before Bucky starts to move, and you’ve never been higher. He’s in so deep, and you’re fuller than you’ve been in your life, and drunk on how big he is, how he hits every right spot and how he keeps grunting low praise and moaning your name against your skin-

You bury your face in the sheets to try and muffle your whines of desperation and Bucky’s hand catches your jaw, turning your head to capture your lips in a long, searing kiss as he hammers into you.

“Bucky-“

“Feel so good,” he mutters again your lips, thrusting with a brutal movement and groaning when you squeeze around his cock. “Jesus, you’re so good, doing so well, pretty girl, so fuckin’ close-“

The Brooklyn accent is coming out, and his words are starting to slur, and you only manage to moan down his throat in a silent plea of more.

Bucky’s pace picks up into uncontrolled and frantic movements, his skin slapping against yours as his metal arm snaked around your stomach and his fingers start to rub furious, impossibly fast circles around your clit-

Your second orgasm slams into you like a tidal wave, and the only thing in the world is the dizzying and perfect pleasure washing over your body as Bucky roars your name, something warm filling you up and dripping down your thighs with your own release.

Bucky tries to move away—pulling out and pushing off of where he’s wrapped himself around your body—but you grab his arm, keeping him splayed over you.

“Need to clean you up-“

“I’ll be okay,” you mumble, a dazed smile covering your lips as you reach back, trailing your finger through his hair. “Stay.”

He pauses, but only for a second. Then his weight is settles back over your body, and everything is alright.

Bucky’s alright. His cock in still twitching and jumping near your ass, and you think it’ll take a while to fully fuck the bioweapon out of his system, but you’re more than up to the task. For now you can just drown in his warmth, half petting his hair and humming as his lips trail over your shoulder in featherlight kisses.

“Did you mean it?”

You twist your head, a small frown on your face. “Mean-“

“The-“ He sighs, staring at you like he’s trying to pry something inside of you out. “The thing.”

“That I love you?”

Bucky’s throat bobs, and he nods.

“Of course I did.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth that takes only second to turn into Bucky rolling your onto your back, his tongue pressing on your lower lip in a silent request-

You push on his chest slightly, holding his gaze as he pulls back with a frown.

“Did you mean it?”

He looks almost offended. “Yeah, I meant it. I’ve never meant anything more-“

You tug him back down, and that can be the end of it for now. It could be the end of it forever, and you’d be happy.

You don’t need a long explanation about it. You don’t need justifications for why neither of you ever said anything, or to repeat it until you both believe it.

You already believe it. And telling Bucky won’t do anything, so you’ll just have to spend a long, long time showing him.

And as long as you have that time, with Bucky, you’ll be happy.

End Note: Love making Steve talk about pocket pussies. That's an America I want to be a part of <3

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itneverendshere · 5 months ago

Text

we say we’re different but we got the same eyes - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

you needed to stop taking other people shift’s.

it’s not like you wanted to, but at least they were paying you to do so, enough to let you actually chill this summer without stressing about rent or whatever else adulthood decided to throw at you.

all you had to do was show up and do the job. first at lila’s dinner, now at the bougie country club, as a cart girl.

you’d done this before, and sure, the old men were always a little too handsy with their beer guts hanging over their tacky polos, but at least they tipped well. you could tolerate them. smile, giggle at their half-assed jokes, and let them feel like they still had it.

fine. pay me for my pain, grandpa.

today however, instead of your usual sugar-daddy wannabes, you were babysitting frat boys. fresh out of their first year of college, probably still hungover from their last keg stand.

nineteen-year-old idiots in pastel shorts and backwards hats, making everything about themselves.

“bro, you remember that party at kappa? dude, swear i blacked out after like, five shots.”

wow, five whole shots? congrats, you absolute child. should i get you a sticker for that?

don’t even get started on their conversations about girls. one of them, chad or brad or whatever his stupid name was, just had to loudly detail how some poor innocent girl “totally wanted him last night but was playing hard to get.”

yeah, bro, she was probably just trying to get through the night without having to mace your entitled ass.

it was constant. the whole damn morning. all they talked about was frat parties, girls they didn’t deserve, and how they "couldn’t wait to get back to school."

you'd give anything to remind them how utterly irrelevant their frat status was in the real world, but you couldn’t. nope. you had to keep your game face on, pour their drinks, and pretend like they weren’t giving you a headache that rivaled your worst hangovers.

at least the elderly snobs tipped well. sure, they were pretentious and acted like you were beneath them, but they'd slip you a twenty or more with a smug little wink. that made it easier to tolerate their "i’ve been golfing here since before you were born" bullshit.

but these brats?

half the time they forgot to tip at all, and when they did remember, it was a crumpled five like they were doing you some grand favor. and of course, of course, they couldn’t just keep their obnoxious, beer-breath comments to themselves. no, they had to make it worse by hitting on you—hard.

painfully hard. it was like watching a car crash in slow motion, except instead of pulling over to help, you were stuck right in the middle, praying someone would just tow your ass out.

“yo, what’s your name again?” one of them asks. bryce, probably. his face just screams bryce.

he's leaning against the cart like he thinks it's going to make him look cool, but really, he’s just sloshing his drink all over the place. classy.

“it’s on my name tag,” you deadpan, pointing to the little badge pinned to your polo. you're not about to give him any more than that.

but he's not letting it go. “oh yeah? cute name for a cute girl. you single or what?”

jesus christ. here we go.

you resist the urge to roll your eyes so hard they’d get stuck in the back of your head.

“’m here to work,” you sigh, voice sweet enough to mask the absolute disdain you're feeling. you know what comes next.

they always think they can charm you if they just keep going, like you are some kind of challenge.

“c’mon, don’t be like that,” another one chimes in, this one wearing sunglasses even though it's barely 9 a.m.

who do you think you are, pitbull?

he gives you this sleazy grin like he thinks he's smoother than he actually is. “we could take you out after your shift. grab a drink. bet you’re fun, huh?”

fun? FUN?! if by fun he means fantasizing about driving this cart straight into the water hazard just to escape this conversation, then sure, you're a real blast.

you look around the course, hoping maybe one of the older golfers needs a refill or something—anything to get you away from this nightmare. no luck. it's just you and these clowns.

“i don’t date customers,” you say, a line you’d perfected at this point.

you plaster on your fakest smile, the kind that said please tip me and then leave me the hell alone. but bryce wasn’t giving up.

“you’re really gonna turn us down? i mean, we’re the best thing on this course right now.”

best thing?

the only thing they're the best at seems to be embarrassing themselves. this is the type of guy who probably thinks buying a girl a drink meant she owns him something.

you can't even be mad; it's almost... sad. almost.

“maybe you should focus on your game,” you suggest, glancing at his scorecard. “you’re, what, ten over par already?”

that shuts him up real quick, his face going from cocky to confused like he didn't expect you to know how golf worked.

his friend with the sunglasses? he's still trying.

“we can show you a good time, y’know. we’ve got a house down on the beach. you like boats?”

ah, yes. the boat move. the go-to for guys who think a half-assed yacht and a cooler full of cheap beer is the height of luxury.

you’d seen it a million times in this godforsaken town.

you're not impressed.

you shoot them another smile, “i like tips.”

they all blink confusedly, clearly not used to a girl calling them out so directly. the frat boys mumble something between themselves, looking awkward for the first time all day.

finally, one of them fishes a crumpled twenty out of his pocket and tosses it your way.

oh, wow, big spender.

you scoop it up, shoving it into your pocket and giving them a little nod. “thanks, boys. good luck with your game.”

you thought the twenty bucks might’ve bought you a few minutes of peace, but no. they're back at it, swinging at golf balls like they aren't trying to flirt in between their awful shots.

you roll the cart over to the next part of the course, half-listening to their constant chatter.

something about “last semester” this, and “pledge party” that. god, they just never stop. it's like someone hit the repeat button on the world’s most annoying playlist.

one of them calls you over again, like he can't wait five minutes for his next drink. you start prepping them, half tuning them out, just trying to get through it, when suddenly, miraculously, they shut the hell up.

for a second, you think maybe the universe is finally doing you a favor. you don't even question it, just start pouring drinks faster.

a quiet frat boy is a gift. but then you hear it:

“dude!” one of them practically tackles the other, all wide-eyed and hyped up like a little kid who just saw his favorite cartoon character. “is that rafe fucking cameron?!”

oh, for fuck’s sake.

your stomach drops. of course it has to be him. because clearly, your morning isn't being shitty enough. you don't even look at first.

one of the guys starts flipping out, hitting his buddy’s shoulder like it's the coolest thing to ever happen.

“bro, no way. no way. that’s rafe cameron? he used to be the president of our frat, man. two years ago! he’s a fucking legend!”

legend? you almost laugh.

the only legend rafe is to you it's a legendary asshole. a smug, infuriating, gorgeous asshole who you have been avoiding like the plague. the same one who has been blowing up your phone nonstop, trying to get back into your life.

the same one you swore down you’d never sleep with again after he pulled that stunt at the dinner—and then, of course, ended up in his bed two nights ago. you haven't spoken to him since. you’d been ignoring him again—well, trying to—but now here he is. in the flesh. and these idiots are drooling over him like he's some kind of frat god.

you turn your head, and he's striding across the green like he doesn't have a care in the world. of course he looks good. he always does.

wayfarer’s pushed up in his hair, that cocky-ass grin on his face, wearing a polo like he's the face of a country club catalog. you know he’d see you any second. hell, he probably already has.

yeah, you’d been avoiding him, and yeah, maybe you’d blocked his number twice, but that didn’t stop him from calling with a different one. or from somehow finding you the other night at the party when you were weak enough to let him back in, only to get burned again.

“holy shit, he’s coming this way,” one of the frat boys mutters, shaking with excitement.

you don't move, don't acknowledge him. but you can feel his eyes on you. it's like a sixth sense at this point. you'd crave it so much before, when it was all a silly game in your head, see how much you could push until he cracked and gave into you. now it's a curse.

the boys are watching him approach like he's some kind of celebrity.

“should we say something to him?” one whispers. “i heard he’s like, killing it in the business world now. family’s loaded.”

yeah, you think bitterly. killing it. if you count being a trust fund brat as an accomplishment.

rafe's closer now, and you know this moment is inevitable. the frat boys are giddy, already nudging each other, probably ready to beg him for networking advice or whatever the hell frat bros did.

you keep your eyes down, focusing on pouring the drinks, acting like you don't even notice him. like he doesn't phase you in the slightest.

“hey,” a familiar voice drawls. you don't have to lift your head to know it's him. naturally, he stops right by you. because why wouldn’t he?

“rafe fucking cameron!” one of the guys yells, unable to keep it together anymore. “you’re like a legend, man. kappa forever!”

you never cringed so hard in your life.

rafe smirks, that signature look spreading across his face. “yeah, somethin' like that.”

you clench your jaw, forcing yourself to keep your face neutral. no way in hell are you about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he still gets to you.

everyone else around you are tripping over their words just to get his attention. it's embarrassing to watch. the kids acting like he's some kind of messiah, not just some white rich guy with a trust fund and a bad attitude half the time.

“man, the outer banks is fucking sick,” one of them says, bouncing on his feet like an overexcited puppy. “we’ve been hitting the beaches, bars, y’know, living it up. and bro, the girls here? smoking hot.”

here we go.

you pretend to be very invested in the cooler, rearranging the ice just to keep your hands busy. they're about to start pointing at you any second now; you can sense it.

the way they keep looking over at you made it obvious they're gearing up for something.

and then, like clockwork, it happens.

“yeah, man,” one of them gestures way too enthusiastically in your direction. “that cart girl over there? we’ve been trying all morning.”

oh, fuck right off, you resist the urge to throw a bottle at him.

you’d rather die than hear what lame pickup line is coming next, but what you really don't want to hear is whatever rafe's about to say.

there was a pause, as if he's taking a second to let it sink in. and when he finally does speak, his voice is all smooth confidence, casual as anything.

“so,” he starts, still with smirk you hate and know so well, “you’ve met my girl?”

my girl? my fucking girl?

one of them, manages to stammer, “uh—wait, she’s… she’s your girl?”

you can feel the tension creeping up the back of your neck. this's exactly why you’ve been avoiding him.

no matter what happened between you, no matter how messy things got, he always acted like he owned you in private. never in front of his friends, like just because you ended up in his bed, you were his to claim whenever he felt like it.

still keeping your eyes glued to the drinks, you feel your blood boil. you aren't his fucking girl. you're barely on speaking terms, aside from that one weak moment.

he's only saying it to mess with you.

one of the frat boys lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed. “damn, man. didn’t know you were still pulling like that.” he shoots a glance at you again, not even bothering to hide the once-over.

rafe just chuckles, that low, infuriating laugh of his, like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. “what can i say?” he drawls, as if the whole thing is just a game to him. “guess i’ve still got it.”

you're this close—this close—to snapping. you can feel your fists clenching at your sides. you're not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. not here. not in front of these frat boys who're still looking at you like some kind of trophy.

rafe’s voice is closer now. you don't have to look up to know he's standing right by the cart.

“you good over there?” he asks, that fake casual tone still lingering.

you don't answer. just kept doing your job, biting the inside of your cheek so hard it hurts. but he isn't going to let it go. he never did when he wanted to prove a point.

“hey, baby.” he greets you again, leaning in slightly. you can feel his eyes burning into the side of your face. “you gonna pretend you don’t know me now?”

you take a deep breath, finally turning to face him. he's standing way too close, sunglasses pushed up on his head, that stupid expression plastered across his face.

the frat boys are all watching, wide-eyed, like they just stumbled onto some kind of reality show drama.

“you’re funny, cameron.” the guys all exchange glances, clearly picking up on the tension but too dumb to understand it, “can you guys give us a minute?”

one of them pipes up with an awkward laugh, “wait, but we—”

you don't let him finish. “one. minute.”

they finally catch on that it isn't a request and before they can awkwardly protest or ask why, rafe tilts his head towards them, craning his neck just enough to raise a single brow. the change in his posture is subtle but enough to have them clamming up instantly.

like magic, their frat-boy bravado melts right off. it's wild how fast a bunch of college boys can shrink under the gaze of someone like him.

the power trip they’ve been riding for the last hour stop.

“uh, yeah, you know what?” one of them coughs out, backing up so fast he almost trips over his golf bag. “we should, uh… we’ll hit the bathroom. real quick.”

“yeah, yeah, we’ll be right back,” another one adds, practically stumbling over himself to follow.

they scatter like scared puppies, tails tucked between their legs, and you can't help the small, satisfied smirk that twitches at the corner of your mouth.

finally, a moment of peace.

except, it's not peace. not with rafe standing there.

as soon as the frat boys are out of earshot, you spin around, without thinking, you shove him in the chest with both hands, hard enough to catch him off guard. he stumbles back a step, his face twisting into a look of surprise.

"are you fucking crazy?" you snap, "do you not get the fucking hint, country club? i don’t want this. i don’t want you here, and i sure as hell don’t want your bullshit claims that ’m your girl in front of those idiots. leave. me. alone.”

he steadies himself, raising both hands as if trying to calm you down. “’m trying to be better, okay? ’m trying. i apologized the other night, didn’t i? ’m—”

“no, you didn’t!” you look at him like he's the dumbest man on earth, cutting him off, your hands balled into fists at your sides. “you didn’t apologize! you said i was overreacting, that i was being ‘dramatic.’ then, you fucked me and acted like that made it all better.”

his jaw tightens, and he takes a deep breath as he glances around the mostly empty golf course before his eyes move back to you, his voice low but firm. "that’s not how i meant it—"

“you always have an excuse,” you interrupt, stepping closer, not backing down. “every time, it’s the same thing. you think a half-assed apology or a night in bed makes up for the way you treat me in public? like ‘m just some thing you get to claim whenever you feel like it?"

he visibly recoils at the word you chose, like it hurts him, “i know,” he finally mutters “i know i was a dick at that dinner. but ’m trying, okay? i’ve been calling you, texting you—”

“i didn’t ask. am i that good in bed? go find someone else.”

rafe’s hand flies up to pinch the bridge of his nose, a frustrated sigh escaping him. he draggs his tongue against his cheek. his voice coming out clipped, “i don’t want someone else,” he grunts out, sounding more exasperated than ever. “jesus fucking christ.”

you let out a laugh, stepping back, eyes rolling.

“oh, right. that’s it? ’m really that good in bed, huh? that’s why you’re here?” you cross your arms, your tone biting, daring him to say otherwise. “that’s all this has ever been, right? physical. you don’t call unless you want something. so what now? why are you trying so hard? what the hell are you trying for?”

he doesn't respond right away, his fingers are digging into the bridge of his nose like he's trying to hold himself together. the silence continues, and you can see him wrestling with his words. he's never been the type to say what he was feeling.

everything is buried under layers of cocky bravado, that impenetrable wall he put up to keep everyone at arm’s length. including you.

finally, he dropps his hand and takes a step closer, his voice coming out rough like he's forcing the words out. “’m here because i don’t want someone else. i want you, alright? can you just get that through your fucking head?”

you scoff, “because i know you and won’t get attached?”

he snaps, raising his voice, “no! fuck, it’s not that simple.”

"not that simple?" your hands are shaking, and you accidentally knock over one of the bottles you’d been holding before, sending it tumbling to the ground. you don't bother picking it up.

“it’s pretty fucking simple. we’re just fucking. so, tell me, what exactly is complicated about that? you call, i come over, we have sex, and that’s it. so why the fuck do you start ignoring me in public like ’m some kind of fucking disease?”

rafe opens his mouth, but you don't spare him the chance to speak, you're on a roll, months of pent-up frustration.

“i don’t give a fuck if you’re with someone else, rafe!” you can hear the bitterness dripping from every word. you're practically spitting them out, “what pisses me off is that you had the audacity—the fucking nerve—to ask me to stay that night. do you know how fucking stupid i felt? how the fuck do you think i felt when you acted like i didn’t exist the next day?”

you can feel your hands trembling again, the adrenaline making you shaky, cursing under your breath.

“for once, i was nice enough to care about you, to stay, and that’s the shit you pulled. treated me like a ghost. like i was nothing.”

he just stands there, staring at you, his jaw tight, but he doesn't say a word. his face is hard to read, but you don't care about his feelings. you're not done yet.

“i was fine with the sex. i was fine with leaving afterwards and then you had to go and fuck it all over.”

rafe’s blue eyes flash, and you can see the realization hit him, like he's connecting the dots too fast for your liking.

his brows furrow as he breathes out, “wait. you’re mad at me because i made you—” he hesitates, like the word is foreign in his mouth, “care for me?”

you let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “oh, for fuck's sake, country club. don't flatter yourself.”

“you always do that shit,” he points out, stepping closer “you never call me by my name when we’re having a serious conversation. it's almost like you’re running away.”

you arch an eyebrow, incredulous. “are you delusional? you’re the one acting like a child.”

“’m not being delusional. you only say my name in my room when it’s just the two of us.” he leans in slightly, lowering his voice as if he's trying to keep this moment between you, his blue eyes lock onto yours making your stomach twist. “’m clearly not the only one who’s pretending here; you’re just as bad.”

you feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you walk back, trying to create space, but he closes the distance with easy confidence.

“pretending? please. ‘m not the one playing house in my bedroom while acting like i don’t know you outside of it.”

rafe lets out a low, frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair like he's close to losing it.

“god, you’re fucking infuriating,” he mutters, voice gruff, “you think i don’t fucking feel it too? you’re the only one pissed off, the only one confused?” his voice dipps lower in frustration. “i can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard i try. "

“oh, boo-fucking-hoo,” you mocked back, “must be so hard, huh? being obsessed with a girl you can’t even respect in public.”

his hand reaches out to grab your wrist. you gasp, not out of fear but because the heat of his touch awakes the resting butterflies in your stomach. you hate how much your skin reacts to him, how just the feel of his grip makes your brain go foggy and shut down.

“i do respect you,” he growls, as if you just insulted him, “i just—fuck.” his eyes dart between yours, as if searching for something. then, like clockwork, he points at your work uniform—the stupid polo and that absurdly short skirt that's practically a sin in itself.

“this,” he grits out, fingers gesturing to the tight polo that does absolutely nothing but make your boobs look way too inviting, “is not okay.”

you blink, pretending to be unaffected, but his words have a way of crawling under your skin.

“oh, right,” you nod sarcastically, even though your pulse has kicked up a notch. “blame my uniform, like that’s the reason you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

rafe groans like you're causing him actual physical pain, his hands gripping the edge of the golf cart now, knuckles turning white.

“shit, yeah, i’ll blame the uniform,” he says, eyes blazing as he corners you. “that tiny-ass skirt, walking around in front of me all day, making me lose my goddamn mind.”

just like that, his hand slide right under your mini skirt, his fingers gripping a handful of your ass with a confidence that makes your breath hitch.

the sudden contact sends a rush of heat through you, and a soft gasp escapes your glossy lips.

that’s when he takes his chance.

with another low groan, rafe seizes the moment, pressing his body against yours, leaning down as he kisses you, his tongue sliding into your mouth, the kiss deepening in an instant.

it's not sweet—you can tell that now because you know that hidden part of him, you can tell the difference when it comes out. today he's desperate like he’s been waiting to it for days and can't take it anymore.

he's a starved man on a mission. it's a feverish mess of spit and teeth, his grip on you impossibly tight.

his hand still kneads your ass, blunt fingernails digging into your skin trying to keep you from bolting away. at the same time, his other hand slides up to your neck, firm but not enough to hurt, just enough to keep you locked in place—he's daring you to pull away, knowing full well you won't.

logic doesn't stand a chance against the way his lips move against yours, he's sucking all the fight from you.

his tongue slides against yours, and your stomach jumps at the sensation, making you gasp. you try to pull back for a second, needing air, needing space, but his grip on your neck tightens, holding you in place as his lips move against yours like he'll die if you stop.

and maybe he would. maybe he's just as messed up about all of this as you are.

rafe’s teeth scrape against your bottom lip, and right then and there, you know your panties are already ruined. you can't stop the small whimper that escapes your throat, and he moans at the sound, his hips pressing harder against yours, making you feel just how much he wants you.

“fuck,” he almost whines against your lips, like he's barely keeping himself from fucking you out there in the open, not giving a shit if anyone's watching. his hand on your neck glides around to the back of your head, tangling in your hair as he tuggs slightly, tilting your head back so he can kiss you even harder, his lips moving against yours in a way that makes it impossible to think straight. “you have no idea what you do to me.”

the truth is, you do. you know exactly what you do to him because he's doing the same thing to you.

but there's no way in hell you’ll admit that. not when he already has you completely under his spell, melting into his touch, drowning in the way he kisses you like he owns you.

you attempt to hold onto that edge of disdain you always throw his way when things get too personal. his breath is hot and ragged as he hovers.

his hand, still tangled in your hair, loosens slightly but stays there. it's so fucking unfair—the way he just sneaks under your skin, the way your body betrays you every time he gets close. you hate it.

especially with the way his fingers are already sliding up your bare thigh under that ridiculously skirt, as if he owns every single inch of you, like he has a goddamn right to touch you like that.

and instead of pushing him away like you should, you find yourself leaning into him. and fuck, the look in his eyes—all black, wild, like he it's his last shred of self-control—is enough to make your pulse skyrocket.

“asshole,” it comes out weak, pathetic and almost breathless, and you hate yourself for it.

“yeah,” he whispers back, lips brushing yours, his hand still in your hair, still holding you close. “but you like it.”

god, maybe you did.

the frat boys finally return, their laughter breaking the bubble that had you on a leash.

within seconds, you're pushing rafe’s hands away, stepping back as of them claps him on the back.

“we miss anything?”

“nah, just catchin’ up,” rafe said, brushing off the whole thing as if it's no big deal.

you, on the other hand, pick up one of the empty glasses, avoiding eye contact with any of them.

one of the guys chuckles. “man, you two… y’all good?”

no. not when there's the slightest of the slightest possibility that you're starting to feel something for him. not the stupid crush you had before, or the simple curiosity of figuring out how he was in bed.

real, scary, big girl feelings.

no way. not after everything. not after he pulled that same crap, acting like you didn’t know you in front of his friends, then turning around and getting all possessive when it suited him.

“better than ever.”

eyes locked on rafe, you bite out the final blow.

“yeah, better than ever. just like every other fucking rich frat boy—using daddy’s money, pretending you’re a god. but deep down, you’re all the same. losers. why don’t you keep them company, huh? you’re all family after all.”

his blue eyes drop to the green field at the mention of his dad, but he keeps quiet despite realizing you’re doing this on purpose.

he’ll let you have this one because he knows it’s deserving. fuck he’d probably let you punch him in the face if you asked him to.

you turn on your heel and walk away, leaving him behind, knowing you hit him exactly where it hurt.

1K notes · View notes

jigeuminunbich · 6 months ago

Text

what a girl wants | park jisung (m)

synopsis — after tapping out early into your first-time, jisung refuses to be a fool in front of you again. gathering reinforcements, he arms himself in preparation to please you when the next time comes for you both to be intimate. and boy, does he learn a lot.

genre — nonidol!au (inexperienced!jisung x experienced!reader), fem!reader, mature (smut), and established relationship

minors dni, please ! (nsfw tags under the cut)

content — probably needs another proof read, men explaining sex, multiple scenes of ji lasting a millisecond (jk, jk), pet-names (pretty, babe, baby), reader naturally takes on a bit of a dominate role, brief missionary, cunniligus, overstimulation, hair-pulling, unprotected probone, even more missionary, ear play + sucking, creampie, and a tiny off-hand joke about dh offering to fawk jisung

word count — 6k

author’s note — listen, ik virtually everyone came out of tds3 loving chenle (rightfully so) but personally, i’ve been on jisung timing since my stop teehee 🤭

I. ACT ONE

Jisung had dreamed of this moment much more than he’d care to admit to. You both had been dating for nearly a year and had yet gotten to the point of stark intimacy, well, until now.

It was breathtaking really, seeing you under him. He couldn’t believe this was his reality, that you were actually doing this with him. That was all he could think about when you first initiated it. He let you take the lead, per usual, but this time it reached a point where he was eager to agree when you asked if he was ready.

Though, at this moment, he was coming to regret that excited confirmation he had delivered earlier.

“Oh,” you verbalized from the junction of Jisung’s neck following the sudden stall in his movements. “Did you…?”

A faint whimper escapes from Jisung’s lips, visibly coming down from his evident climax. You watch as Jisung’s eyes flutter open, his face soon contorting into a look of sheer horror, dropping his head to where your bodies met to witness the scene completely for himself.

“Oh my god…” he mumbles in what you read as bewilderment, his head snapping back to speak to you.

“___, I am so sorry.” Jisung sputters out immediately.

A fond laugh fights its way through you, and you shake your head to mask it away. “No, no. It’s okay, Ji’…”

You try to comfort him, but his flushed face remains puffy with frustration. Your hands that come to coddle his bloated cheeks do little to soothe his nerves. Jisung huffs, undoubtedly upset with himself.

“Hey, look at me.” You urge his gaze to meet your own, he finds your eyes soft and a tender smile playing at your lips. Jisung finds his heart rate slowing at this, the pad of your thumb that smoothes over his tense jaw aiding in his relaxation.

“We can stop, if you want?”

Jisung inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as if once he opens them back up that this moment will have never happened. But you’re still there, waiting patiently for his answer.

He thinks for a moment. There was a thought that spoke to him, to keep going as he knew how long you both had waited for this night. But the weight of his reality felt like it was physically crushing him too much to listen.

“Uh, yeah. I think that’d be best…” He answers meekly and you reluctantly nod.

His room falls silent besides from the rustling of you assisting him with pulling out and the bed creaking under his weight as he plops in the spot next to your body. You regretfully sit up after only experiencing time on your back momentarily, sparing a solemn look to Jisung who’s large hands hide his face.

“You okay?” Your voice is gentle as you probe him.

Jisung clears his throat, revealing his face briefly when he sits up on his elbows to address you. It’s painted a furious pink from what you assume is his embarrassment and shimmers with sweat. “Yeah, I just—uh— need a minute.”

Understanding of him, you decide to slip away to handle yourself. “Okay, well, I’ll be in the bathroom.”

“Mhm.” Jisung nods, watching you intently as you slide from the mattress, grabbing his once discarded tee, and trail to the nearby bathroom before disappearing behind the door.

His body meets his bed again with a thud, shielding his hot face away with his hands once again.

II. JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE

It takes a number of business days before Jisung can even work up the courage to see you in person, let alone mention what had transpired that night. The memory had been gnawing away at him since, every time he blinked, or tried to sleep, your nonplus reaction to his “premature” arrival was all he could see.

There was no way he could bring it up in conversation just yet… at least not to you.

“You what?!” Renjun exclaims in absolute horror.

“He lasted thirty seconds!” Chenle gleefully responds for Jisung, still coming down from the belly-splitting laughing fit he had just went through before informing Renjun.

Brazenly (and stupidly), Jisung had decided he was fed up with his set of circumstances— trusting his best-friend and roommate, Chenle, with the information that had landed him in this unfortunate position.

But very quickly, he realized just how much of a mistake that was.

Jisung sighs frustratedly— sparing the brunette a piercing glare before angling his attention back to Renjun, “It was more like a minute and a half…”

“Oh, Jisung, that’s still not good.” Renjun comes over, slowly sitting on the opposite side of his junior.

“I know.” Jisung physically slumps in his spot, a cutesy pout on his face.

A tight-lipped, earnest smile graces Renjun’s face and he places a comforting hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Did you at least help her?”

Jisung asks blankly, confused. “With what?”

Renjun pauses alongside Chenle, both of them sharing a horrified look while Jisung looks between them like a neonate dear.

“You didn’t help her?!” Chenle screeches, eyes bulging and eyebrows angled in complete confusion.

“Do what?!” Jisung bellows, now frustrated.

“Jisung, even I know what you’re supposed to do for your girlfriend in the event you.. finish early…” Renjun voices deeply and careful enough for his friend’s digestion.

Jisung pauses for a moment, picking apart Renjun’s words before making a face of understanding.“I— oh, well she said she’d take care of it!”

“Still,” Renjun sighs, taking a moment to calm himself. “you’re supposed to offer, man.”

“I’ve got to tell Mark about this…” Chenle shakes his head, already typing in the group chat.

III. SECOND OPINION(S)

“Dude…”

Mark’s face is twisted in an expression Jisung can only decipher as disbelief, a common emotion he’s encountered since filling in his friend group on his situation.

“I know, I know. It’s not a good look.”

Donghyuck scoffs amusedly, having stopped in on the conversation after overhearing the absurd topic. “It’s an awful look, actually. How do you cum in thirty seconds without getting your girl off after?”

“It wasn’t—“ Jisung sighs, gathering himself. “I don’t know. I have no idea what I’m doing.” He recedes, sinking into the material of the couch that supported him, Mark, and Jaemin.

“Well, ___ knows this, right?” Jeno pipes from beside Donghyuck after remaining silent the whole debriefing session.

Jisung shifts in his spot, shrinking from the burning gazes of his friends as they wait for him to overshare. “Yeah, I mean, we talked about it before. But she has experience, and— I dunno— I thought I’d at least do okay…”

“Ah, Jisung. No ones ever perfect doing anything for the first time.” Jaemin plants a rather rough yet consoling pat on the younger’s back.

“I was.” Donghyuck interjects, a smug look on his face while shrugging his shoulders.

Renjun scoffs, shoving the back of the former’s head from his positioning— leaning over the same couch Donghyuck happened to be sprawled across. “You cried.”

“Aht!“ Donghyuck rubs his head, snapping around to correct his friend. “That was the second time!”

Mark sighs deeply, drawing the attention away from his friends’ squabble. “Jisung, have you both talked about it since?”

Jisung anxiously plays with his ear, pouting. “Well, no, even if I wanted to I just don’t know what I’d say…” It was a true concern for him. He had muddled over the scenario in his about a dozen times at this point, and every time he couldn’t find the appropriate words to say to you— even if you weren’t even really there.

“Sorry for only lasting thirty seconds?” Chenle wickedly suggests, earning yet another warning glare from Jisung.

“Ou, if you don’t know how to say it, you could always get a cake!” Donghyuck piles on, promptly earning another wack to his head— this time Jeno is the unamused culprit.

“Look, next time you see her, just be honest.” Jaemin advises, effectively drowning out the whining of his battered friend who claimed Chenle deserves the lashings because he commented first.

Jisung nods, considering it but not with another issue forming in his mind. “Okay, well… what about… you know...”

“The sex?” A handful of them chime in response.

The younger boy’s lips form a tight, shy line, obviously still finding the topic a bit taboo. “Yes, yes— that. What am I supposed to do? I don’t want a repeat of last time…”

“Just watch a bunch of porn, that’s what I did.” Donghyuck recommends, still testing his luck.

Exhausted, Renjun simply lets his eyes pierce into the back of his friend’s head for a moment before sighing.

“How about we don’t do that and just give you some pointers, hmm?”

Jisung claps his hands together, liking that nugget of advice way more than Donghyuck’s, who sits offended, tongue infamously poking his cheek.

“Okay, sounds good.”

IV. H.T.P.A.S.Y.G 101

Now, when Jisung was told that everyone would be meeting in he, Chenle, and Renjun’s shared living room to “give him pointers”, he didn’t necessarily expect to be surrounded by his friends while his television displayed a slide show.

Surprisingly, Donghyuck ran the operation with his laptop perched on the armrest on the opposite couch, even after his treatment the other night.

“Alright, Jisung, welcome to how to please and satisfy your girl 1-0-1!” Donghyuck stands at the center of the room, gesturing towards the screen that projects the title ‘H.T.P.A.S.Y.G 101’— along with throwaway stock photos of couples experiencing varied emotions.

“Woah. Did you make this?” Jisung voices, foolishly impressed with his friend’s set-up.

Donghyuck’s facials drop, “No. It was already a template on Canva.” He deadpans while Jisung makes a motion of understanding.

Collectively, his friends blink ludicrously at Jisung’s naïveté. “He made it, Jisung-ie…” Jaemin clarifies slowly.

“Ah,” the latter nods, embarrassment creeping up his skin.

Donghyuck shakes his head before putting the attention back on the screen where he flips to the next slide, automatically does Jisung pull out his phone to retain the coming information.

“Okay, first rule, don’t come in thirty seconds.”

A cacophony of snickers and tittering emerge from the group at Jisung’s expense.

“I— how long are you guys gonna run with this?” Jisung cringes, regretting all over again even including the detail of his duration.

The man in the center staggers back into his spot, pretending to wipe away fallen tears. “I’m sorry it’s too funny…”

“Now! It may seem hard but the last thing we want is a redo of what happened last time, yes?” Jisung nods shamefully, lips tight.

“Next rule, be a giver. Down the line you can find out whether or not she prefers it but to start, you wanna take charge and get your girl off.”

Jisung hums, his focus being the ever growing list on his phone-screen. Curious, Jeno peers over at him.

“A—are you seriously taking notes?” He furrows his brows at the open tab in Jisung’s notes app.

“Hey, he’s a diligent learner!” Donghyuck waves a warning finger towards Jeno before turning to reassure Jisung. “Don’t worry, Jisung, the best students study.”

He addresses his older friend’s defense of him briefly, already having questions about the lesson. “When we say… get her off— what do you mean?”

“Eat her out, Jisung.” Chenle interjects flatly.

“Oh.” Jisung’s head bobs slowly. “And how do I do that?”

The “teacher” sucks his teeth, “Christ, do we have to teach you everything?”

Jisung just blinks in response, earning a tired sigh from Donghyuck, “I’ll send you some material after class.”

“Okay.” Jisung nods.

“Third rule! Take it slow. Kind of ties back into rule one but can be used elsewhere. Listen, I know you’re a bit of a fumbling mess but at least try and make it seem like you know what you’re doing.”

Despite the directed jab, Jisung continues to diligently jot down Donghyuck’s advice.

“What does ___ like, do you know?” Mark pipes.

“Sexually?” The boy’s eyes go wide, a bit startled.

Mark snorts, “I’m not asking for her favorite food, man,”

Jisung breathes out a sheepish laugh, “Ah, well, she’s kinda sensitive around the ears…”

Donghyuck claps, startling Jisung but effectively grabbing his attention, “Alright, involve that! Kiss, lick, suck for all I care. You gotta do something that’ll turn her on, you can’t just whip your dick out and stop there, got it?”

“Got it.” Jisung re-affirms, intently copying down every word that leaves his friends’ mouths.

“Well, I think that’s enough for today,” Donghyuck nods, clearly proud of himself.

“Thank god.” Jaemin sighs exasperatedly, earning himself a warning look from Donghyuck. The latter rolls his eyes, smiling at Jisung who overviews what he’s learnt so far.

“You seem like you picked up well, I’ll quiz you after you watch the material.”

Jeno snorts, “You do know you’re not an actual teacher, right?”

Donghyuck smugly smirks, propping his hands onto his hips.

“Don’t be a hater, Jen’. If you want a lesson, you can just ask. Don’t think I forgot about what Iseul said— agh!” Swiftly, Jeno starts strangling Donghyuck to cut him off, the ladder dramatically flopping on the couch behind him and taking the older boy with him.

Using the commotion to his advantage, Renjun swoops in to take a seat next to Jisung, who quietly reviews his notes in the midst of the chaos.

“And Jisung,”

“Hmm?” The younger glances up from his notes.

“Don’t forget that the reason we’re here is because ___ likes you. Not what you can do for her in bed or any tricks these idiots are telling you to do…”

“Ah, okay.”

“I mean, we all mean well— even Donghyuck— but what matters most is that you’re yourself. That’s what ___’s most attracted to, right?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Jisung answers hesitantly.

“Right. Maybe you should watch that video Donghyuck sends you, though.” Renjun suggests a bit quieter, though his urgency remains evident.

Jisung laughs at his older friend, nodding in understanding. “Will do!”

V. ACT TWO

The next you spend genuine alone time with Jisung is two weeks following the whole incident, you’re grateful that he’s grown comfortable again with skin-ship. Missing nights like these where you two were able to wordlessly cuddle up together without an evident damper hanging over the room. Of course, you’d love to address that night. Maybe even give it another try but unless Jisung makes it clear that he’s comfortable with it, you suppress any and all thoughts about it.

Much to your liking, the night carried on like usual. No roommates to interrupt your skinship, or to witness the chaste kisses you gave each other. But in the midst of watching the second film Jisung had gladly let you choose— you realize just how touchy he’s getting.

A typical reserved hand that would be perched on your hip was playing with the hem of your shorts, igniting the bare skin with every brief graze.

Curious, you angle your head upwards on Jisung’s shoulder, immediately drawing his attention from the screen and down to you.

“You okay?” You inquire, an eyebrow raising. You tried to hide your excitement but the grin that found your features was an obvious giveaway that you were losing.

Jisung simply hums, his hands still stationed in their new territory. You nod, “Okay…” and instinctively crane your head up to signal a kiss.

Quickly, Jisung obliges, meeting you halfway and connecting your lips. Your intent was for it to be just like the other kisses that happened tonight. Quick, sweet, no alternative intent, but that was clearly not Jisung’s shared intention.

When you depart, he follows, and you have no problem in giving him what he wants. The kiss is extended, the hand on your thigh tightening in grip. You match Jisung’s vigor, equally biting at his lips and easing your tongue in his mouth when his own licks at your entrance. But you have to say you were not expecting this.

Soon, Jisung’s body was angled nearly on top of you and he showed no signs of stopping. Both hands now on your waist as he titled you backwards, still intently keeping your mouths fixed together.

“Oh, hello?” You manage to get out.

“Hi.”

Jisung takes control, which is very unusual since typically you’ll straddle him when making out. But you allow it to happen, your back meeting the bed as Jisung kisses you passionately. This kiss is much different than one you’ve ever shared with him, normally he’s way more reserved— even before your first time he was shy, but obviously a fire has been lit under him to redeem himself.

You’re the first to pull away, not moving far but just enough to be able to catch your breath. Jisung has never kissed you speechless before, but you’re okay if this was to become your new reality.

“Jisung…”

He ignores you, kissing down your neck while his large hands grope you. He's hungry, his teeth grazing against your skin in rotation with his suckling but his bruises still feel like heaven— you didn’t even know he was capable of leaving such marks.

Jisung’s cold hands are suddenly under your shirt, lifting the large garment that once belonged to him over your naked breasts. One of them even snaking down to your thin sleep shorts while the other remains to thumb at your now perked nipples.

“Oh— Jisung, wait!” Pausing your pleasure to confront your boyfriend.

He looks at you in surprise, as if he’s been caught doing something wrong.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask carefully.

“I wanna make you feel good…” he replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, you blink— slowly gathering yourself as Jisung continues to kiss down your abdomen and eventually to the center of your legs.

You stutter when you feel his hot breath on your core, it’s been so long you’ve had anything like this, you hate to say you’ve been waiting on it but fuck— you have been.

“Ji…” your hand cups the back of his nape, the other replacing his hand that once toyed with your chest.

Jisung gazes up at you, a look that reads that he’s asking you for permission. He quickly drinks up how he’s got you, shirt pushed to your over your breasts— leaving them on display, you look down at him— almost pained while you wait for his next move, lip tucked in between your teeth— a thumb to your own nipple.

Final inch of resolve snapping, Jisung flattens his warm tongue over your sleep shorts, humming instantaneously when his muscle meets the fabric. It’s lewd but he can’t help himself, especially when he encounters the already wet stain in the seat of your bottoms. He quickly gets to work, though, savagely his tongue ravishes you with one measly layer keeping him from fully tasting you.

The sight is one to see, your routinely sweet and respectful boyfriend with his head between your legs— tongue lapping and dancing around your cunt through your shorts.

You can barely take anymore, you need him. You didn’t care what his level of skill was, you needed more stimulation than this.

Jisungs jumps back a bit when you sit up to interrupt him, the shorts being slipped off. “Ji, please, please, keep going,” both of your legs are back on either side of his head, this time your bare, silky cunt on full display. No longer hidden by the baby blue bottoms.

You’re practically begging, your hips involuntarily shifting closer and closer to Jisung’s face as you wait. Jisung couldn’t believe his eyes, you’ve never really begged for him before. Not like this, so vulnerable. His tent had pitched ages ago but the strain he felt watching you now was a different kind of pain.

His newfound confidence falters a bit, wordlessly nodding up at you with wet eyes before obediently lapping at your cunt again. You throw your head back as a whimper rips through you, shifting back onto your elbows to play with your chest again. Not forgetting to keep one hand anchored in Jisung’s hair.

His movements are cautious at first, proving that this is definitely his first time but once he finds a pace that seemingly fits you best, he carries on with it. He alternates between sucking your throbbing clit to dipping his tongue deeper in your folds to tongue at your hole. You’d ask him where he learned that from but you’re too caught up with how good it feels that the question burns out on your tongue.

Before you know it, you’re close to coming already. With it being so long since you've had this, paired with the uncontrollable moans Jisung emits as he restlessly laps up all your juices, you can’t take much more.

“Fuck, Jisung. I’m close…”

Jisung hums, unaware just what that does for you. You whine pulling his hair tighter, in return it’s his turn to whimper. It’s uncomfortable, as he’s realized from the past times you’ve tugged his hair but he would never stop you.

“God, please don’t stop,” With Jisung’s locks entirely in your grasp, you can’t stop yourself from grinding your cunt upwards. Jisung takes a beat to adjust but realizes what you want, he shifts down a bit. The tip of his nose giving your clit the friction it so desperately desires while his tongue draws sloppy circles around your entrance.

You groan, the knot in your stomach tightening. You’re almost intelligible with your blubbering but Jisung manages to make out that you’re— in fact— about to come.

Jisung takes what he’s learned from his lessons and even earlier from this encounter and lets his tongue dip in and out of your hole faintly, giving you little stimulation that leads you closer while you grind on his face.

His quick shift leads your orgasm to come crashing down on you. Jisung’s face is pulled flush to your pussy as you come but he could care less, he watches keenly with wide eyes as you lurch upward, riding his face until you finally come down completely.

His room is still for a moment but Jisung is so absolutely enthralled with the moment and how he’s just made you unravel before him. Gluttonous, he doesn’t wait much longer before he’s dipping back into your folds. Lapping at you and especially your hole, he feels like a madman. The taste of you sends shivers down his spine, your surprised noises only egging him on.

“Oh my god, Ji! Wait, wait, oh,” the intrusion of Jisung’s middle finger is completely foreign but welcomed.

Where the hell was he learning this all from?

Jisung continues to work you open, never neglecting your folds and clit for a moment.

“Ji, if you don’t stop,” you shudder, trying to gather your bearings. “I’m gonna come.”

“Want it,” he moans against your pussy. “Do it again for me, pretty.”

It feels as if you’ve been thrown into the Twilight Zone. Never has Jisung said your nickname in such a tone, so deep and dripping with lust. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, taking your mind off his dual stimulation for just a moment.

With the addition of Jisung’s lengthy digit that now pops in and out of you, it doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit, you cry out for your boyfriend again— this time instinctively begging for some control. But your pleas fall on deaf ears, it’s like he’s dead set on keeping his face between your legs, it’s becoming too much at this point. If you two were gonna do this, you wanted him to get something out of it too.

“Fuck, Jisung, too much!”

Jisung snaps from his reverie, all of his ministrations drawing back with his head peeking from between your thighs in concern. You’re finally able to catch your breath, smiling down at him to quell his apparent anxiety. Shyly, he smiles back.

He clears his throat, “Are you okay?”

You laugh at this, still struggling to stabilize your breathing while your body pulsed with what could either be desire or exhaustion. “I am. Better than ever, actually. Are you?”

“Mhm. I uh— I didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“No, Ji, I just don’t think I’d be able to take another orgasm just yet.”

“Oh, okay.” He nods.

You giggle at him, how insane was it that he completely left you dumbstruck on two separate occasions just seconds ago and was acting all reserved the next.

“C’mere,” you open up your arms to him. He rushes to you. Giving you what you want and joining your lips. He's completely unaware just how wet his face is until it’s on your’s and he finds it a bit embarrassing.

But you don’t falter at all, instead kissing him deeply while your hands unmistakably find the boner hitched in his sweats.

Jisung stutters, physically jolting out of the kiss. “Uh, do you wanna move onto that so soon?”

“Well, I don’t want to be the only one who gets off. That’s not fair to you, is it?”

“I’ll be happy as long as you’re satisfied…”

“Ji,” you wipe away your juices that have gathered on his chin.

“Hmm?”

“I’m only satisfied when I know you are too, now, strip.”

Jisung nearly lets a ‘yes, ma’am’ slip from his throat before he hurriedly slips off his clothes. You laugh at how cute he is, removing your own shirt.

“Now, boss, how do you wanna do this?”

“Uh— however you want—“

“Jisung.”

He sighs at the call of his name from your lips, gulping as you stare up to him. “How about… on your stomach?”

“Oh? You don’t want to see my pretty face, hmm?”

“No! I mean, of course I do! You don’t have to—“

“Ji, baby, I’m fucking with you. I’d love to.” with that you roll over, grabbing one of Jisung’s pillows before slipping it under you.

“Oh.” Jisung sighs, the sight of you obeying him and propping yourself up effectively sending more strain to his member.

“Well don’t stop now, come on,” you reach a hand back for Jisung to grab. He obliges, walking to the edge of the bed, and grabbing your hand. He recalls this position from the couple of ”study materials” Donghyuck had sent and he joins you on the bed, shuffling on his knees till his cock hovers your ass.

You shift under him, hiking your ass higher to encourage him to stick his length in. He takes the message and grips his cock, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard before.

When he finally lines himself up and sinks inside of you, he hisses while you whimper. Jisung’s hands are practically godsend but nothing, and you mean nothing compares to his dick. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since your first time. And always found yourself a tad bit disappointed whenever he would turn you down following it.

“Fuck, Ji, you’re so big, baby,” you groan, trying to adjust as his heavy cock continues to stretch you open.

Jisung can only huff, holding onto his last ounce of control. He's about to come, he can feel it. His hips still, knowing if he moves anymore he’ll end up spoiling this again.

“Oh, please keep moving,” you whine, taking matters into your own hands and pushing your hips back to pick up where he has left off.

“Shit, ___, wait—“ Jisung braces his broad hands against your back, stilling you for a moment. Your head cranes back, concerned but still evidently in need.

“I— I’m about to come…” he speaks weakly, almost as if he’s embarrassed. Which he absolutely is.

You pout, confused with his display of shame.

“That’s fine, baby. Just don’t stop, please, I need you.” The sound of you begging while continuing to grind your ass on his cock sends Jisung absolutely reeling. His eyes squeeze shut, sighing heavily before allowing you to meet him halfway. Your own movements make you purr in delight, you continue to grind against him, and Jisung finds his hips moving too.

He snaps into you, chasing your cunt when you pull away. You moan in surprise, Jisung finally melting and leaning down to stabilize himself as his hips find a shallow pace.

He groans, hiding his flustered face in the junction of your shoulder.

“___…” Jisung pants.

“It’s okay, you can come, fuck, come for me, baby…”

It takes one sharp thrust before Jisung completely loses himself, releasing an almost pained groan into your neck. He continues to jaggedly move in and out of you while you feel him release himself in you, his load spurting along your walls and escaping onto the surrounding areas.

You helplessly moan at the feeling, a bit disappointed when your boyfriend’s eager hips cease to a stop.

“Hmm. Feel better?” You lilt, propping your chin on your shoulder to get the best glimpse of him.

Jisung shudders, breathing out a small laugh. “Yeah, I— sorry…”

“It’s okay, babe. Now, pull out.”

“Hmm? Oh, right!” He heeds to your directions, easing out of you but not without some slither of sadness. He had done it again. Sure, he made you cum but he barely lasted a few minutes inside of you like he had hoped.

Promptly, you shuffle onto your back, cracking your legs open. Shocked, Jisung’s gaze drops to your cunt, now messily decorated with a glistening mix of his semen, saliva, and your own cum.

“You didn’t think that was it, did you?”

Jisung blinks because he absolutely thought you two were finished for the night. You chuckle, hooking your legs around Jisung’s thighs.

“I’m not done with you just yet, Ji’…”

It’s hard for Jisung to shield his excitement, gladly positioning himself in front of you. He grips himself to align with you once again, allowing his other hand to plant by your head.

He could die right now and be absolutely satisfied, Jisung thinks as you suck him back in your walls. His face hovers your own, watching intently as your features scrunches in pleasure.

Quickly adjusting to the sensation of him stretching you out again, you take note of how statuesque he is,“Move, babe.” You gently remind.

“Right, sorry—“ Jisung takes a moment to laugh at himself, garnering an endeared smile from you.

Your hands extend up to hold his face. “No more apologizing, okay?” Jisung nods along with you in response, his heart swelling at your tender act of affection despite him being several inches inside of you.

“Okay, sor— ahem, okay…” you giggle at his immediate slip up, and Jisung arranges his hips in a way that instantly takes your mind off of it, starting to rock into you once more, now both having climaxed once (or twice, in your case)— sensitivity strikes you both but there’s no way that was gonna stop either of you.

“Feel so good,” you hum.

“Yeah?” Jisung asks, innocently, keeping his rhythm as sound as possible.

“Mhm. Don’t stop, okay?”

“I won’t.” Jisung solidifies, finding confidence in being able to see your face and how you visually react to his movements. His hips begin to reel back a greater distance, snapping into you with a fervor that leaves you crying for more.

The obscene sound of Jisung’s thighs repeatedly crashing into your own fill the room, paired with the whine of his name from your lips and the sploshing sound of the wetness between your legs.

Unfortunately, Donghyuck’s voice echoes in his mind, but for good reason. Removing himself from your hold a bit, Jisung leans down to start pecking your ear.

You hum in satisfaction, shuddering under him.

He knew you well, he could still recall the first time he accidentally grazed the area of your ear with his lips. You lurched away with embarrassment washing over you but he had found it to be one of the cutest things in the world. Not many things could pacify you like that, but a little love to your ear did.

You arch yourself into your boyfriend when his tongue darts out of his mouth to flick the shell of your ear, your new positioning encouraging the depth of Jisung’s length. It doesn’t help that Jisung has found his pacing, a mind-numbing repetition of the head of his cock grazing the precise spot that leaves your vision spotty with stars.

“Shit, M’gonna come,” you aimlessly exclaim, the strength you’d usually have to filter your thoughts from useless babble existing no longer.

Jisung hums, continuing to lap at your ear, taking Donghyuck’s nonchalant advice and running with it. You gasp in elation when you feel Jisung suckle at your ear, nipping it before it leaves his mouth.

“Fuck, who taught you this?” Restless, you bring his face back to meet yours, you find your boyfriend’s pupils completely blown out and eyes lidded heavily. You trace his furrowed eyebrows to his parted puffy lips.

Jisung leans down, your inquiry not reaching him whatsoever. Your lips meet and you whimper into the kiss, it’s wet and noisy. Your muscles searching for the best taste of each other.

Your third orgasm was barrelling towards you quickly, and you find yourself looking for anything to give you stability. Mindlessly, your hand traces the distance from Jisung’s face to one of his hands that remains planted on the bed beside you.

Without a second thought does he intertwine your fingers, pressing your joined palms into the mattress as he begins to lose momentum.

“Please keep going,” you wail. ”I’m gonna come.”

Jisung nods, his lips tucked between his teeth as he tries to keep himself together for you. He watched you contort and writhe in pleasure, now becoming familiar with your body’s pattern before a climax.

Your free hand travels to Jisung’s broad back, leaving traces of yourself with savagely placed scratches. He winces, the sting of your fingernails against his back throwing him off but simultaneously driving him to keep going. His own features scrunching to alert you that he himself was close to snapping.

“Ah, please, please—!” You whine, bracing yourself, deliberately pulling Jisung flush to you the best you could to milk to most friction out of him as possible. Your shallow yank is enough to have the large man toppling over and on top of you.

The desired stimulation of your clit grazing against Jisung is enough to coax your next orgasm out of you. You cum, angling your hips to take as much as Jisung could still offer. It doesn’t take long for him to be right there with you, whining while his hips buck aimlessly into you. Your sounds are equal in desperation, both racing to chase your highs.

“Oh.” Your hands aid Jisung’s hips toward you as he continues to release his seed inside of you until he finally fully collapses onto your body.

Serenity returns to Jisung’s room, the pair of you well past the point of exhaustion to move an inch. Jisung, seemingly coming to, is the first to move (much to your dismay). He grunts, peeling himself from your sticky with sweat body and peering down at you for a moment.

It lingers, his study of you. And typically, he was the one who would shy away from such intense eye contact but you find your eyes flitting away first. You’ve never had someone be so engrossed with you, with your satisfaction, so worried with pleasing you.

Jisung breathes out a laugh, “What?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head, equally as giddy.

“You’re shy?”

“No,” you suck your teeth, fighting the smile that threatens to give you away, “just wanna know why you’re staring…”

“Mm. Is staring at my pretty girlfriend so wrong?”

“…Hmm,” you pause as if you’re thinking for a moment. “No. I guess not.” You shrug.

“Good.” Jisung bends down to peck your lips before fully removing himself from on top of you. He sighs when his back flops on the bed beside you.

“Okay but seriously, where the hell did all of that come from?”

Jisung chuckles at the urgency in your voice, shifting to lay on his side. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…”

“Pfft. After tonight I think I’m more open to any possibilities…”

“Hmm… okay, it was Donghyuck.” Jisung admits bashfully.

Immediately does your mouth gape open in absolute disbelief. “No fucking way.”

“See!”

“Donghyuck—? He taught you all of that?!”

“Well, I studied and kind of just… went with the flow I guess?” Jisung shrugs as if it’s nothing.

“Wow. For a second there I was scared he gave you one-on-one lessons…”

“Woah,” Jisung blinks, shocked that you precisely assumed what he had purposefully left out of the exchange. “Believe it or not, he tried.”

“I believe it,” You giggle, the ridiculous image flashing in your mind and leaving just as quick as it came.

“I guess I have to give him his flowers then.” you sigh, a hand extending to brush away Jisung’s fallen fringe so you can fully see his face. He fights a smile back, helping you by sweeping his hair back.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… I don’t think I have to tell you how great you were.” You snort, gesturing to your tired body. Jisung gladly follows your gaze, admiring your bareness once more.

Jisung hums, throwing an arm around your damp abdomen to tug you closer into him. You wordlessly oblige, sighing contently when your skin meets his again.

“Well, I think you were the star.” Jisung comments softly, his face now in your neck.

You coo silently, instinctively placing a hand on his jaw. “As much as I’d like to take credit, I can’t,” Jisung’s gaze shifts to your face when you tilt his head up.

“Not when you helped me through three orgasms.”

You peck your boyfriend’s lips as a form of punctuation. Though, you’re not able to drift far since Jisung’s mouth chases your own, deepening your once innocent kiss. You’re tired and your lips are beyond bruised but you just can’t help yourself. The way he hums from underneath you only intensifies your need for him.

While your mouth moves against his with conviction, tonguing at his lips to allow you more freedom, he finds his hands gravitating to your hips to give him some stability. Jisung sighs discontentedly when your lips disconnect, his eyes remaining shut for a beat before fluttering back open.

“Well, how do you feel about a fourth?” Jisung proposes carefully, though his expression shows that he’s clearly desperate for your agreement and for your lips to return to his own.

Quickly, your eyes widen in astonishment. “Really? Are you sure—?” Your worries are cut short by Jisung’s mouth. It’s short but effective in getting his point across.

He pulls away, an amused smirk on his face. “I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you giggle, finding yourself incredibly aroused by Jisung’s newfound confidence. You would certainly have to thank Donghyuck in some way for this abrupt change in your boyfriend’s behavior, unfortunately.

“Well let's not waste time then…”

#જ⁀➴ mads’ writes to:#park jisung x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream x y/n #nct dream fics #park jisung x y/n #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct x reader #nct x y/n #nct fics

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