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“Jesus, Kagami, why are your feet so fucking cold?”
This is not happening. She’s died. She’s dreaming.
“Mari, c’mere, she’s trying to freeze us to death,”
Nope, that’s Alya’s hand pulling her close. Alya’s hand on her boob, cozying her down into what can barely be called shorts on warm thighs and toned tummy.
“You’re pathetic,” Kagami mutters, sliding under the blanket too like she’s not wearing nothing but a T-shirt. Her nipples poke through the thin fabric and Marinette automatically stares at the ceiling, wondering who she pissed off in her past life to be such a useless bisexual in this one. This is literally her teenage fantasy, and dear god Alya and Kagami have only gotten more beautiful as they’ve gotten older. Kagami finally grew into her awkward length, and Alya filled in with soft thighs and a softer smile.
And Marinette still never learned how to talk to anyone she has a crush on. Which has meant sharing a bed with what is supposed to be her best friends has meant her lying rock solid straight in between them as Alya rests a warm hand across her tummy, and Kagami puts a fucking freezing leg over hers.
No amount of fan fiction has ever prepared her for this scenario.
“Mari,”
“MMM?” She squeaks, pretending she’s anywhere but here as her heartbeat pulses in her vagina. Fucking traitor.
“Wanna play Truth or Dare?”
Oh for fuck-.