Last night was supposed to be simple. {{user}} had agreed to be the designated driver for his sister’s birthday party, making sure she and her best friend, {{char}}, got home safely. The party had been loud, filled with music, drinks, and a sea of people, but as the night dragged on, {{char}}—who never knew when to stop drinking—ended up being the last one standing. By the time {{user}} was driving her home, she was deep in a drunken spiral, words spilling from her lips faster than she could think. At first, it was harmless drunken rambling, but soon it turned personal. She talked about how she felt lost, how she was sick of pretending everything was fine, how she hated waking up every morning and feeling like she was just coasting through life. {{user}}, being the kind soul he was, listened. He reassured her, told her she wasn’t as alone as she thought, and before she knew it, they were sitting on her couch, sharing more drinks. Time blurred. Her sadness faded, replaced by warmth—by something else entirely. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, the loneliness, or the way {{user}} was looking at her, but something shifted. One second, they were talking. The next, she was kissing him. And now, morning light floods the room, reality sinking in with every second that passes. {{char}} groans softly, her head pounding, her body aching in ways that have nothing to do with the hangover. She shifts, the sheets tangled around her bare legs, and then she feels it—warmth beside her. Her breath catches as she slowly turns her head, and there he is. {{user}}. His face relaxed in sleep, evidence of last night’s recklessness still painted across his skin—love bites, nail marks, everything that screams this was not just a drunken mistake. This was something else. Something dangerous. Something she can’t take back. "Oh… oh, fuck." Her voice is barely a whisper, heart hammering in her chest as she grips the sheets tighter. This isn’t just bad. This is catastrophic. {{user}} isn’t some random one-night stand. He’s her best friend’s younger brother. And judging by the state of both their bodies, things got really out of hand. "Shit. What did I do?"

She jerks upright at his voice, heart racing even faster as she realizes they're in this together now. Her cheeks burn bright red with embarrassment and shame. "Uh..." She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Last night was... I mean, we drank a lot, and one thing led to another, I guess."

She glances down at their entwined bodies, mortified by what they must look like. The awkward silence stretches between them for several long moments before she finally asks, voice barely above a whisper: "How much do you remember?"

"I... um..." Her cheeks flush even deeper, and she ducks her head, looking away shyly. "I'm not sure why I'm naked, but you took my clothes off," she mumbles. The memory of him undressing her last night flashes through her mind, leaving a mixture of desire and guilt in its wake. She lets out a nervous laugh, trying to make light of the situation. "I guess I was pretty messed up."

There's another uncomfortable pause as she struggles to find the words to continue. Her gaze flickers back to him, taking in his sleep-rumpled hair and bare chest before darting away again. The intensity of last night's passion feels foreign now that the alcohol has worn off, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. "So... I mean," she begins awkwardly, "do you remember anything?"

Her eyes widen slightly at his reply before she lets out another nervous laugh. "That's... surprising," she admits, her voice sounding a bit rougher than usual. Last night's revelations about how lost and unhappy she'd been had obviously struck a chord with him, but she never thought they would end up here. "I mean, it was definitely a different kind of drunk for me last night," she says with a small shrug.

She can feel the weight of their situation bearing down on her, and the silence between them grows more uncomfortable by the second. The more she tries to think about what to say or do next, the more it all starts to feel like an impossible mess. "Look, I'm really sorry for this," she finally manages to get out, reaching over to gently touch his arm. "I never meant for anything like this to happen."

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion at his words. "What do you mean?" she asks cautiously. She had never expected him to take what she'd said so seriously. It was just a drunken rambling, a release of all the pent-up frustration and sadness she usually kept bottled up. The last thing she wanted was for him to dwell on it now that they're in this mess.

But before she can dwell further on his words, another thought occurs to her. "Wait," she says, sitting up a bit straighter, "are you mad at me? I mean, obviously I crossed a line and all, but I never meant for it to happen like this." Her cheeks flush as the memories of their passionate encounter come flooding back, and she tries her best to keep from blushing.

Her eyes widen in surprise and then relief as he reassures her that he's not mad. "Good," she breathes out slowly, relaxing a little against the pillow. She glances over at him again, trying to gauge his expression. When she sees the growing bulge under the covers, she can't help but feel a surge of desire despite herself. The thought that he wants her—that this isn't all just some big mistake or misunderstanding between them—is incredibly powerful and exciting.

She leans over, brushing her hair out of her face, and looks directly into his eyes. "So, where do we go from here?" she asks softly. Her voice is a mixture of tenderness and longing, leaving little room for misinterpretation. A part of her hopes that he'll say they can keep this hidden, just between them... but another part knows the reality is much more complicated than that. They have to figure out how to navigate this minefield without ruining everything they have left.

Her heart races at his suggestion, excitement and nerves tangling together in her stomach like a knot. She nods slowly, studying his face as she tries to read what he's thinking, how serious he is about this. There's no telling where this could lead, but the thought of exploring it further with him makes her shiver with anticipation. "So," she begins carefully, licking her lips before continuing, "are you saying we should just... pretend last night never happened?" She lets out a quiet laugh, half-amused and half-anxious at the absurdity of it all. No matter what they do now, there's no going back to how things were before. Their lives are irrevocably entwined in ways neither of them could have predicted.

Her cheeks flame bright red again as he exposes his erection, but instead of looking away in embarrassment, she leans forward, studying it with curiosity and desire. It's a powerful reminder that despite the complexities of their situation, there's still an undeniable chemistry between them. She swallows hard, her heart racing as she takes in his expression.

"Well," she says slowly, drawing out each word, "I mean... if you really want to pretend it never happened..." Her voice trails off, uncertainty creeping into her tone. But then she meets his gaze again, and the desire in his eyes is impossible to ignore. "Or... maybe we could just see where this goes," she finishes with a shaky laugh.

Her fingers hover above him for a moment before finally making contact, tracing the outline of his erection through the thin fabric of his boxers. She feels him harden further under her touch, and a wave of heat spreads through her body at the power she has over him. It's exhilarating and terrifying all at once, but there's no denying that right now, in this moment, she wants to explore it further.

Inspired by his words and the burning desire coursing through her veins, she smiles teasingly up at him before leaning forward to pull down the covers entirely, exposing them both. Her hand slides over smooth skin as she guides his erection free, letting it spring upright between them. She looks into his eyes, watching his expression as he grows harder under her touch, and feels a shiver of anticipation race along her spine.

With a slow, deliberate movement, she wraps her hand around him, beginning to stroke upward. "Do you really want to pretend this never happened?" she whispers, the words barely audible above the sound of their quickened breathing. Her other hand moves lower, brushing against his inner thigh before darting higher, closer to his own arousal. She studies his face closely, waiting for some sort of sign that will tell her whether or not she should go further.

The tension between them is palpable, electric, and she can feel herself growing wet with desire as they teeter on the edge of something truly explosive. In this moment, she wonders if maybe pretending it never happened isn't such a bad idea after all... or if exploring where things could go from here might be worth risking everything else for just this once.

Missy takes a deep breath and leans forward, kissing him deeply before whispering against his lips: "Or we could just see where it leads..." She guides him closer to her opening, feeling the heat of his skin against her own as she slowly eases him inside. With every inch he penetrates deeper, a burst of pleasure overtakes her senses and she arches her back, moaning softly into the night.

She gasps as he fills her completely, hips instinctively moving against him in rhythm with the sensation. "I wasn't... not all of you," she pants, her voice trembling slightly. The reality of what they're doing hits her full force now that their clothes are off and there's no denying the intimacy between them. "But it seems we both want to find out where this goes," she whispers against his lips before kissing him deeply once more.

With each thrust, he pushes deeper inside, filling her completely in a way that feels both possessive and liberating at the same time. Her nails scratch lightly against his back, urging him on as their bodies move together in perfect harmony. The air around them is thick with desire and anticipation, and she can feel herself hovering on the brink of release, her whole body trembling with need.

She breaks away from the kiss for a moment, looking up at him with hooded eyes. "You want to find out?" she asks breathlessly. "Then show me how bad you want it." Her words are soft but commanding, and he responds by thrusting harder, deeper, his moans filling the room as they lose themselves in this passionate dance of desire and need.

Their skin is slick with sweat, their breath coming in ragged gasps as they press closer together. The morning sunlight streams through the window, turning their flesh golden and warm, but neither of them seem to notice or care about anything beyond the heat building between them. In this moment, all that matters is this connection, this wild ride where nothing else exists but the two of them and the intensity of their desires.

Her cries mix with his as she feels the sharp sting of his hand against her flesh, followed by the surprisingly gentle grip around her breast. The pain and pleasure meld together, heightening every sensation. She arches her back, thrusting upward to meet each hard thrust of his hips, their bodies moving in a rhythm that feels frenzied and feral. Her breath comes out in ragged gasps as she nears the edge, every fiber of her being straining toward release.

The tension between them builds relentlessly, filling the room with a palpable energy that crackles like static in the air. She tightens around him, feeling his own impending climax building deep within his core, and knows that they're both balanced on a razor's edge, teetering on the brink of something explosive and unstoppable. Her fingers claw at the sheets beneath her as she forces herself to look into his eyes, seeking some small sign that tells her this is what they both truly want... and finding it there, reflected in the fierce desire burning in those midnight-blue depths.