"Celebrating"

The two of you find yourselves perched side by side on Liam’s bed, the world blurry and hilarious, like everything you’ve done tonight was the most natural progression. Liam leans over and flips open his laptop, a sly grin creeping across his face as he searches for a video, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Alright, alright,” he slurs, clicking on a thumbnail with an exaggerated wink. “We’ll… set the mood, right?” He chuckles, cheeks flushed as he lets the video play, and soon enough, the sounds and sights of some random scene fill the screen. You both start laughing, mostly because you’re tipsy enough that the whole setup feels surreal. You can’t believe you’re actually doing this.

“This is… so ridiculous,” you murmur, shaking your head, but there’s a thrill in the absurdity.

“Hey,” Liam nudges you, eyes gleaming, “we said we were celebrating.” He shrugs as if it’s the most logical next step, then—without much thought—shifts to slide his trousers down. He’s drunk, confident, barely hesitating, and suddenly, he’s pulled out his cock, flashing you a grin. “Well… go on then.”

Your eyes flicker down, heart pounding, caught between laughter and the sheer recklessness of the moment. You swallow hard and reach over, steadying yourself as your hand wraps around him, both of you still giggling under your breath.

You both glance at the laptop, letting the video play in the background as you start stroking, the whole thing as surreal as it is absurd. He murmurs something half incoherent, clearly affected by the drinks and the situation. For now, though, you just focus on the feel, and the warmth, trying to ignore the awkwardness by pretending it’s the most casual thing in the world. The laughter occasionally slips in again as you catch each other’s gaze, both of you riding that line between amusement and thrill, too far gone to back down now.

The two of you keep going, the room hazy with the warmth of too much **** and the strange energy between you. Liam’s breath hitches slightly as he watches you, his focus drifting from the screen to you. He stares for a second, then leans closer, eyes a little glazed.

“You know,” he slurs, his grin lazy, “you look… like, actually hot doing this. With the makeup and all that… it’s kind of crazy.”

You feel a flush of heat rise to your face, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment, and you respond with a half-hearted eye roll. “Dude, stop…” you mutter, though the complaint sounds weak, caught between a groan and a laugh. He only smirks, totally unbothered. In a moment of drunken impulse, you spit on your hand, half to shut him up and half to let yourself focus on something else.

“Fine, whatever,” you mutter, returning to your task with renewed focus, trying to ignore his gaze. You look back at the laptop, your hand moving slowly, and try to tune into the scene again, anything to ground yourself. Liam leans back, his breathing ragged as he gets more into it, eyes now fixed on the video.

The scene on the screen continues, but soon enough, Liam’s breaths get shorter, his body tensing. Before you know it, his hand clutches at the bedsheet, his breaths turning to gasps.

As Liam’s breathing quickens, his hips shifting slightly with each stroke, you can tell he’s close. His hand grips the bedspread tightly, his breaths shallow and ragged. His eyes squeeze shut as he nears his climax, a low groan escaping his lips as he finally lets go. His body tenses, and then he shudders, spilling over your hand in hot, sticky bursts. You pause for a moment, feeling the warmth and weight of what just happened, then pull your hand back with a mix of slight discomfort and ****-fueled detachment. You blink, slightly startled, as the realization hits.

“Uh, hang on…” you mumble, grabbing a tissue from the side table. As you wipe your hand clean, you’re vaguely aware of how you’re not nearly as grossed out by this as you might have been once—chalk it up to the ****, you suppose, or the weird territory you and Liam have been navigating lately.

Reaching over to the bedside table, you grab a tissue and quickly wipe your hand, cringing just a little but shaking it off easily. The two of you have been friends for so long that the moment doesn’t even feel all that strange, though the **** has certainly helped blur the lines.

Liam, still catching his breath, glances over at you with a sly, half-lidded grin. “Alright, your turn now,” he slurs, gesturing vaguely as he leans back against the headboard. He smirks, nodding toward the drawer. “Go get the… you know, the thing.”

You hesitate, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks again as he references the dildo. Normally, this would be way too much, but your head’s too fuzzy to care. Feeling a mix of shyness and a strange thrill, you get up unsteadily, legs a bit wobbly as you stumble over to where you keep it. You rifle around in the drawer, hands moving with a bit more clumsiness than usual, until you find it. The silicone feels almost foreign in your grasp, though familiar from previous nights when you were alone.

As you turn back toward Liam, his eyes are locked on you, a lazy smile playing on his face as he watches you cross the room. You feel a wave of self-consciousness, clutching the dildo as you shuffle back toward the bed. But Liam’s expression is so relaxed, so unbothered, that it makes you feel just a little more at ease. It’s just the two of you, after all, and the whole thing has an odd, comforting familiarity.

You flop down next to him, holding the toy in your lap with both hands. You’re painfully aware of it, but you try to act casual, glancing over at him as you settle back into place. Liam, still riding the high from his own release, looks at you with a hazy fondness, his grin widening as he notices the slight flush on your cheeks.

“Alright, don’t get shy on me now,” he teases, his voice low and a little rough from his recent climax. He nudges your shoulder playfully.

You roll your eyes, though a small laugh escapes you as you feel yourself relax. It’s odd, surreal even, but there’s a comfort in this strange, drunken space between you.

As you sit beside Liam, clutching the dildo and trying to act casual, his gaze drops to your outfit with a lazy, slightly mischievous glint. You feel your cheeks warm under his stare, that familiar sense of shyness creeping in as you recall just what you’re wearing. The skirt, the sheer fabric of the blouse—these things are still strange to you, but in your current state, it feels almost less awkward. Almost.

Liam leans closer, still wearing that easygoing grin. “You know,” he says, voice thick and slurring slightly from the ****, “maybe… maybe you’d be more comfortable if you took off the skirt?”

Your eyes widen slightly. It’s one thing to be in these clothes around him, but taking them off? A small part of you feels self-conscious, painfully aware of what lies beneath, but the **** dulls some of that. It’s just Liam, after all. You’ve known him forever, and he’s clearly not judging. And besides, after everything you’ve been through recently, maybe it’s not as big of a deal as it feels.

You bite your lip, looking down at the fabric as you run your fingers over it, hesitating. “Are you serious?” you mutter, trying to sound casual but feeling your heart race a little.

Liam gives you a warm, almost encouraging nod. “Yeah, seriously. I mean, why not? It’s just us here, right?” He chuckles, giving your shoulder a gentle nudge. “Besides, you look—” He pauses, his voice softer now. “You look amazing, Luna. Own it.”

There’s an odd warmth that spreads through you, both from the words and the vodka, a feeling that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just… let go a bit. With a deep breath, you slip your fingers to the hem of the skirt, hesitating for just a moment before you begin to tug it downward. You feel Liam’s gaze on you, but it’s less intense than you feared, more patient, almost reassuring. He’s waiting, giving you the space you need.

Finally, you work the skirt down, lifting yourself slightly as you slide it off and cast it aside, sitting there in just the blouse and the panties. The cool air hits your bare legs, making you shiver slightly, but you do your best to stay calm.

Liam’s gaze dips downward briefly, but he’s careful not to linger. He simply gives you a warm, slightly crooked smile. “See? Not so bad,” he says, as if sensing your nerves. “Now…” He tilts his head slightly, his voice taking on a softer, coaxing tone. “Why don’t you… you know, go all the way?”

You feel your heart skip a beat, instantly understanding what he means. The panties—the last layer, the final barrier between you and him. You hesitate, feeling the embarrassment rise as you remember that, because of Aphrodite’s curse, what lies beneath is… different. Different than what Liam would probably expect from his best friend, but maybe not different from what he even wants to see. It’s still so strange to you, still something that feels surreal, and exposing it like this feels even more so.

But Liam’s sitting there, looking at you with a gentle, encouraging expression, and he’s been nothing but patient. The **** swims in your veins, blurring the hesitation just enough that you start to feel like maybe, just maybe, you can trust him with this. He’s already seen you go through so much already—what’s one more step?

“Alright,” you murmur, your voice softer than you intended. You slip your thumbs beneath the waistband of the panties, hesitating as you take a steadying breath. You glance up at Liam, and he gives you an encouraging nod, a look in his eyes that says he’s here, that he’s got you.

You close your eyes briefly, and with one final tug, you work the fabric down over your hips, slipping them down your legs and letting them fall away. The air feels suddenly cooler, and you’re painfully aware of how exposed you are now, a **** feeling you haven’t experienced quite like this before.

You open your eyes, half-expecting something from him—a reaction, maybe even a look of shock. But instead, he’s looking at you with that same gentle expression, his eyes soft and warm. He doesn’t make a big deal of it, doesn’t say anything to make it feel weirder than it already does.

Liam shifts slightly, giving you a reassuring smile as he gestures to the dildo in your hand. “So, do you want some… help with that?”

Your cheeks burn, and you look down at the toy in your hand, feeling more self-conscious than ever. But Liam’s voice is calm, kind, not pressuring at all, just offering. You swallow, feeling the nerves return, but they’re softened by his presence.

You lay back, feeling your heart pounding as you try to focus on the sounds from the laptop, the moans and murmurs filling the room from the video rather than the awkward reality of what’s happening right next to you. Liam is quiet, which you’re grateful for—no teasing comments for once, just the sounds from the screen and the occasional whimper that escapes you, though you try to muffle it.

Liam’s hand reaches over, taking the dildo as he gives you a reassuring nod, his face a bit unfocused but intent. Both of you are definitely drunk, thoughts fuzzy, actions feeling far less inhibited than they should. He seems oddly careful, even in his drunken state, and you can tell he’s making an effort to be as gentle as possible. Despite everything, despite how embarrassing this all is, there’s a kind of comfort in his presence.

You close your eyes briefly, trying to focus on the sensations and the video, letting it guide your thoughts elsewhere. Your cheeks feel hot, whether from the **** or the sheer awkwardness of this all, you can’t quite tell. It’s all so new, this body and what it feels, and with every careful press of the toy, you’re hyper-aware of every shift, every little nudge. Liam’s touch is tentative, slow, and you’re thankful for it.

“You doing okay?” he mumbles, voice low and a little hazy.

“Y-yeah… just… weird,” you manage, though your voice sounds slurred even to yourself. You **** a smile, but your gaze quickly returns to the video, trying to center your attention on anything but the reality of what’s happening.

He nods, giving you a soft smile, and without another word, continues, focusing on his task. You’re both so far gone at this point, your heads fuzzy, everything feeling like a surreal dream. The sounds from the laptop fill the air, and you close your eyes again, letting it take over your senses. The whimpers that slip from you are involuntary, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks, trying to muffle them, hoping Liam doesn’t notice.

In his drunken state, though, Liam seems lost in concentration, focused solely on the movements. There’s something oddly reassuring about his focus, like he’s just as wrapped up in this strange moment as you are, unspoken but shared.

The world outside of this moment blurs—the trials, the curse, even the absurdity of your situation. Right now, it’s just the two of you, leaning into the drunken haze, navigating this strange, uncomfortable intimacy with nothing but trust and a shared, quiet understanding.

Liam’s hand moves a bit faster, and you feel the change immediately, your breath hitching as the sensations start to intensify, sharpening through the fog of ****. Every little movement feels amplified, like each nerve is waking up to this new, strange rhythm.

“Damn,” Liam mutters with a grin, his words slurred and barely coherent. “Didn’t think you’d actually be so… into this.”

You roll your eyes, your cheeks hot. “Shut up, Liam,” you mumble, though it doesn’t come out as sharply as you intended. The ****’s taken all your edges, leaving you only half as annoyed as you want to be.

“Aw, come on, Luna,” he says, his voice dipping to something mockingly soft. “You’re ...totally loving this.”

“Liam. Shut up.” You shift slightly, biting back a whimper, but even you can hear the way your voice falters. His stupid, drunken grin doesn’t let up, and you wish you had the strength to just push his hand away. But then… no, you don’t want that. Not right now. You can feel everything building, and even if it’s embarrassing, you’re too far gone to really care.

He leans in a bit, his breath warm and smelling of vodka. “You know,” he says, his voice a hushed, drunken whisper, “you’re… kinda cute like this.”

You groan, covering your face with your arm. “Oh my god, Liam, just stop talking.”

“Oh, sure, like you don’t like hearing it,” he laughs, leaning back, but he doesn’t stop, his movements becoming a bit more deliberate, more intent.

You feel the heat spreading, your body responding without you even really thinking about it, and it’s making you dizzy, blurring the edges of everything except that feeling building within you. It’s like everything else fades—the curse, the strangeness of this whole thing, the fact that you’re both sitting here like complete idiots—and all that’s left is this steady rhythm and the warmth spreading through you.

“Hey,” he murmurs again, his voice quieter now, almost fond. “Feels good, huh?”

You let out a half-hearted groan, but it only sounds like a hum of agreement. The way his hand moves, the way the sensations are building—it’s making you forget, making you let go of everything else. Even the embarrassment, even the curse… for once, it’s just this.

“See?” he says, a slight smirk still playing on his lips. “You’re not so tough.”

“Liam,” you manage, barely, “please just… shut up and… don’t stop.” You hear his low chuckle, but for once, he seems to listen, letting the silence settle around you both again as everything falls away.

As Liam keeps up his steady rhythm, you’re hit by wave after wave of sensation, every movement sending sparks through your very hazy, very drunk mind. The room feels like it’s spinning, but all you can focus on is the growing heat, each stroke of the dildo making you feel more and more electrified. You don’t even realize the sounds slipping out of you at first, quiet, involuntary gasps.

“Oh... oh god,” you mumble, voice barely coherent.

Beside you, Liam chuckles, his own words thick and slurred. “You are a total...mess right now,” he drawls, clearly enjoying watching you writhe. “You sound like… like, damn. Are you like…?”

You give up trying to tell him to shut up, your mind too fuzzy and focused on the fire building low in your belly. Every nerve feels like it’s on edge, all too sensitive. The next sound that escapes you is a full-on moan, and it’s loud enough that you’d be embarrassed if you were anywhere close to sober. But right now? The drink’s numbed that part of you, and all you can think of is how the pleasure just keeps mounting.

“Oh my god…” you breathe out, barely able to form the words.

He smirks, his hand steadying you. “Enjoy yourself, Luna. Just… enjoy the ride, yeah?”

The teasing tone barely registers. Your hands seem to have a mind of their own, moving to your chest. They slide up under your blouse, cupping your breasts through your bra, fingers pressing into the softness as the pressure builds, setting off a new spark of pleasure. You let out another gasp, unable to hold back, every touch somehow amplifying the intense sensations coursing through you.

“Mmm… ah—!” you whimper, breathy and ****, your body tense, chasing that final peak. Your mind is so clouded that all you can do is lean into it, let yourself be carried along by the overwhelming sensations.

Liam, still watching, lets out a lazy, drunk laugh. “Damn… you look… you look good like this,” he says, his voice both amused and slurred. “Bet you… didn’t think you’d be this… into it.”

You respond with a strangled moan, unable to form any coherent reply. All you can do is focus on the growing tension inside you, everything else blurring out. Your back arches, fingers digging into your chest as the sensation suddenly, finally, tips over the edge.

The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, ripping a loud, uninhibited moan from your lips. Every nerve is alive, the pleasure cascading through you, too intense to contain. “Oh—oh god, yes…” you gasp, voice breaking, your body locking up as the release floods through you. It’s overwhelming, consuming, dragging you under until everything is a haze of pure sensation.

As the aftershocks begin to fade, you collapse back, breathing hard, your whole body feeling drained and impossibly heavy. Reality is a distant blur, slowly trickling back in, and you can feel Liam’s eyes still on you, an amused grin plastered on his face.