Sexfriends ?

By Anonymous · 2025-09-04

Inko stared at her screen, a half-eaten bag of spicy cheese puffs balanced precariously on her fuzzy belly. The notification had literally made her drop the bag—orange dust now streaked across her grey-furred chest like war paint. Her heart hammered against her ribcage as she frantically wiped her paws on her hoodie, smearing more cheese powder everywhere.

"NO FUCKING WAY," she whisper-yelled, tail puffing out like a bottle brush. The match notification glowed like a holy relic: *Andrew_Croc94 has matched with you!*

With shaking paws, she opened his profile. There he was—a green crocodile with soft amber eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, chubby cheeks that made her want to squeeze them, and the most adorable crooked smile she'd ever seen. His bio read: "Competitive Pokémon breeder, D&D DM, looking for my player two. Yes, I'm soft and squishy. No, I won't bite (unless you're into that)."

Inko's entire face flushed crimson under her tanuki markings. His photos showed him cuddling a giant Charizard plushie, holding a 3DS with chipped nail polish, and one where he wore an oversized hoodie that made him look like an adorable green marshmallow. She was already three seconds from cardiac arrest.

Her paw hovered over the message button. What did she say? 'Hey'? Too boring. 'Nice Charizard'? Too obvious. She took a deep breath, cheese dust still clinging to her whiskers.

[Inko_TrashQueen]: Okay but real talk - Dragonite or Garchomp for competitive OU?

She stared at the sent message, immediately wanted to die. DRAGONITE OR GARCHOMP?! Who asks that as an opener?! She was about to throw her phone across the room when the typing indicator appeared.

[Andrew_Croc94]: Garchomp, no contest. Sand veil + life orb = destruction. Also hi, you're gorgeous 🥺

Inko's shriek could've shattered glass. She rolled off her chair, landing in a heap of dirty laundry and empty ramen cups. *Gorgeous*. He called her *gorgeous*. She scrambled back up, paws shaking so hard she almost dropped her phone again.

[Inko_TrashQueen]: You're not so bad yourself, marshmallow boy 😤 and WRONG it's totally dragonite with multiscale + weakness policy

[Andrew_Croc94]: Marshmallow boy?? RUDE but also fair... wait weakness policy dragonite? That's actually genius wtf

[Inko_TrashQueen]: Right?? I run it with extreme speed and earthquake, absolute unit

[Andrew_Croc94]: Okay but hear me out... what if we battle sometime? Loser makes winner homemade cookies?

Inko stared at that message for a full thirty seconds. Was he... was he asking her out? With cookies?! She could feel her ovaries exploding. She typed and deleted seventeen different responses ranging from "YES PLEASE" to "I'll make you cookies anyway because you're perfect."

[Inko_TrashQueen]: Only if they're shaped like tiny d20s 🎲

[Andrew_Croc94]: Deal! Though I'm warning you, my nat 20s have been fire lately... what about anime? Please tell me you've seen Beastars

[Inko_TrashQueen]: BITCH I have a Legosi body pillow don't TEST me

[Andrew_Croc94]: MARRY ME

They dissolved into a flurry of rapid-fire messages about everything—favorite manga panels, most broken Pokémon strategies, their mutual hatred for season 8 of Game of Thrones. Inko found herself giggling uncontrollably, sharing memes she'd saved but never sent anyone, typing with the speed of someone possessed.

[Andrew_Croc94]: Okay this is gonna sound super forward but... I live like ten minutes from campus. I have emergency cookie dough and a Nintendo switch. Want me to come over? I promise I'm not a serial killer, just really good at Mario Kart

Inko's brain short-circuited. This was it. The moment. She could practically hear dramatic anime music swelling. She looked around her disaster zone of an apartment—empty pizza boxes stacked like cardboard towers, laundry mountain threatening avalanche, and was that a sock on her ceiling fan?!

[Inko_TrashQueen]: YES but also my place is kind of a disaster rn fair warning??

[Andrew_Croc94]: Same energy, my room looks like a gamestop exploded. I literally won't judge, I promise ❤️

Her paws flew into action. She launched herself off her chair, tail knocking over her dice tower. The apartment became a whirlwind of frantic cleaning—she shoved dirty clothes into the hamper with her feet, tossed empty snack bags into garbage bags, and used her tail to sweep crumbs under the couch like a functional adult.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK," she chanted, grabbing a can of air freshener and liberally spraying everything including herself. She caught her reflection in the microwave—her fur was matted, cheese dust still visible, and her hoodie had what looked like ramen stains. *Perfect*.

She tore through her closet like a raccoon in a dumpster. Nothing looked right. Her "Normal Type Trainer" t-shirt? Too try-hard. The oversized sweater with holes in the sleeves? Too homeless. She settled on a clean hoodie with a tiny pixelated heart on it, frantically brushing her tail and washing her face.

Her phone buzzed again.

[Andrew_Croc94]: On my way! I'll bring snacks and my switch 😊 Also I have that limited edition Hades plush if you wanna see it...

Inko squeaked. The Hades plush. She'd been hunting for that for months. This was clearly fate. She took one last look around her now moderately less-disastrous apartment, straightened her gaming chair, and strategically placed her best figures in view. Her heart wouldn't stop racing.

She paused at her mirror, staring at her reflection. Her brown eyes were bright with nervous excitement, her round face flushed beneath the tanuki markings. She looked... happy. Terrified, but happy. She practiced what she hoped was a casual smile and immediately looked like a serial killer. *Abort*.

Her phone buzzed with a new message showing Andrew's location—he was literally around the corner. Inko's entire body broke out in nervous shivers. She grabbed her lip balm, applied it with shaking paws, then wiped it off because what if he wanted to kiss her and it tasted weird?! She settled for popping a mint instead.

The doorbell rang, and Inko's soul left her body.

She stood frozen for a solid ten seconds before her legs remembered how to work. Each step to the door felt like walking through molasses. Her paw hovered over the doorknob as she took a deep breath that did absolutely nothing to calm her nerves.

This was it. Her meet-cute. Her origin story. The beginning of either the best night of her life or the most awkward disaster since the Great Cheeto Dust Incident of 2023.

She opened the door, and there he was—taller than expected, clutching a small gift bag and looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. His green scales had the softest sheen under the hallway lights, and his glasses had slid down his snout in the most endearing way. He wore a hoodie that strained slightly across his soft middle, and his claws nervously fidgeted with the bag handles.

"Hi," Andrew said, voice cracking slightly. "I, uh... I brought snacks? And my... my mom says hi. Wait no she doesn't I literally didn't tell her I was—I'll stop talking now."

Inko's entire nervous system short-circuited at the absolute disaster standing before her. He was perfect.

Andrew stood frozen on her welcome mat, clutching the small gift bag like a life preserver. The limited edition D.Va plushie peeked out the top, her tiny pink mech helmet cradled in his trembling claws. He'd spent twenty minutes at Target agonizing between this and a Charizard, ultimately picking the one that matched Inko's favorite Overwatch main from their earlier messages.

"Hi," he squeaked, then immediately cleared his throat. "I mean—hey. Hey, Inko. You look... wow."

She did look wow, even though she was clearly wearing her emergency "meeting boys" hoodie—the one she'd bought specifically because the tiny heart on the chest made her look approachable without trying too hard. Her tanuki markings stood out darker against her flushed face, and her tail swished nervously behind the gaming chair she'd clearly positioned at maximum safe distance.

"You too," Inko managed, stepping aside so he could enter. "I mean, not wow, just... also wow. Fuck, I'm sorry—"

"Great start, we're both articulate," Andrew laughed nervously, shuffling inside. His bulk filled her small entryway more than she'd expected—he was broader in person, his soft middle testing the limits of his hoodie. She caught herself staring at the way it strained across his chest and jerked her eyes back to his face.

The apartment was... well, it was clean, but in that way where everything had been shoved into closets five minutes ago. A suspiciously lumpy blanket mountain occupied one corner, and her gaming setup dominated the small living area like a shrine to RGB lighting. Andrew's amber eyes darted around, lingering on the figurine display case.

"Holy shit, is that a first-edition Sailor Moon figure? Mint condition?"

"Oh! Yeah, my mom got it for me when I was twelve. Don't touch it, it's haunted," Inko blurted, then winced. "I mean—not literally. Just... emotionally."

They stood in the middle of her living room like two NPCs waiting for player interaction. Andrew shifted his weight, the floorboards creaking under him, and Inko's tail puffed out slightly.

"So..." Andrew gestured vaguely with the gift bag. "I brought you this. Because you said you main D.Va and I thought—anyway, here."

He thrust it forward like a peace offering. Inko took it with shaking paws, their fingers brushing for a split second that sent electricity straight to her tail. The plushie was soft, clearly expensive, and she clutched it to her chest like a shield.

"D.Va's my girl," she mumbled into the plushie's head. "Thank you. This is... really sweet. Do you want to—should we sit?"

They moved like synchronized swimmers in slow motion—Andrew carefully lowering himself to perch on the very edge of her bed (the only other seating option), Inko dropping into her gaming chair with enough force to make it squeal in protest. The distance between them felt like a DMZ, charged with nervous energy.

"So," Inko started, then immediately forgot what she was going to say. Her brain helpfully supplied "talk about anime" but her mouth had other plans. "Your... your hoodie. It's nice. Green. Like... really green."

Andrew looked down at himself like he'd forgotten what he was wearing. "Oh! Yeah, it's my lucky one. Wore it to my last D&D session and my party didn't die horribly, so clearly it's blessed."

"Tabletop?" Inko leaned forward slightly, the D.Va plushie still clutched against her. "What do you play?"

"Currently running a campaign homebrew—my party's trying to overthrow a dragon who's hoarding vintage Pokémon cards instead of gold. My barbarian's convinced they're worth more than actual currency." He paused, then added hastily, "That's probably super nerdy, sorry—"

"Dude, I once spent three hours theory-crafting a bard build that seduces enemies using only sea shanties," Inko interrupted. "We're past judging here."

Andrew's shoulders relaxed slightly, his tail curling around his ankle. "Okay but hear me out—how would that even work mechanically? Performance check plus persuasion?"

"Charisma saving throw against getting horny for pirates," Inko deadpanned, then immediately turned crimson. "I mean—not horny, just... impressed. By the shanties. Fuck."

His laugh was startled but genuine, low and warm. "That's amazing. My DM would cry. How do you feel about... about collab sessions? Our parties could meet. Maybe. If you wanted."

The word 'collab' hung between them like a loaded die. Inko's heart hammered against her ribs as she processed the implication—he wanted to see her again. This wasn't just a one-time pity fuck or whatever she'd been spiraling about.

"Yeah," she said, voice steadier. "Yeah, I'd like that. My warlock's been lonely since our paladin got polymorphed into a turtle."

"Classic Tuesday," Andrew grinned, then winced. "I mean, not that I'm assuming Tuesdays. Or any days. Just... whenev—"

"You're cute when you panic," Inko blurted, then slapped both paws over her mouth. The D.Va plushie tumbled to the floor between them.

They stared at each other across the fallen toy, both frozen. Andrew's scales flushed a deeper green, his amber eyes wide behind his glasses. Inko could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, loud as a boss battle soundtrack.

"I—what I meant was—" she started.

"Cute's good," Andrew said quickly. "Cute is... really good. You're... you're really—" He gestured helplessly at her, then at himself, then back at her. "This whole situation is terrifying and I'm sweating through my hoodie but you're cute and I can't stop looking at your... your everything."

Inko's tail swished hard enough to knock over her empty ramen mug. "I made snacks. I mean, I have snacks. They're probably not even good snacks, just like... whatever Target had on sale. Do you want—"

"Yes," Andrew said immediately, then stood up too fast. His knee caught the edge of her desk, sending her dice tower clattering across the floor like a tiny avalanche. "Oh fuck, I'm so sorry—"

"It's fine, it's just math rocks," Inko said, scrambling to help. They both bent down at the same time, their heads colliding with a soft thud that left them both sitting on the floor, surrounded by scattered d20s.

"Smooth," Andrew muttered, rubbing his snout. "Real smooth. I'm normally way less... this."

"Less what?" Inko asked, sitting cross-legged among the dice. One had rolled a natural 20 right between them like a cosmic sign.

"Less... like a baby giraffe on roller skates," he admitted. "I've literally never done this before. The whole... meeting someone from an app thing. I'm usually the DM who lives vicariously through NPCs."

"Same," Inko said softly. "I mean, not the DM part. I'm more the player who writes 500-word backstories for background characters. But the... yeah. This is my first... whatever this is."

They sat there in the dice nest, the tension shifting from nervous to something warmer. Andrew picked up the 20, turning it over in his claws.

"So when I rolled this character," he said, "I put all my points into charisma. Clearly I should have invested in dexterity."

"Or maybe just... rolled better," Inko suggested. "Though I hear the DM takes pity on players who try really hard."

Andrew looked up at her, really looked, and Inko felt her breath catch. His amber eyes were warm behind his glasses, and when he smiled—really smiled—it crinkled the corners of his eyes in the most perfect way.

"You have really nice eyes," she said, the words tumbling out before her brain could stop them. "Like... warm honey. Or... fuck, I sound like a romance novel. Abort. Redo. Can I reroll that sentence?"

But Andrew was already moving, scooting closer through the dice like they were stepping stones. "I think it was a critical hit," he said softly. "The compliment. Not... not the delivery, maybe, but the effect."

Inko's heart felt like it might actually explode. She clutched the D.Va plushie like a life raft, then realized she was holding it backwards and quickly flipped it around. "I also have opinions about your hoodie," she said, emboldened by his proximity. "Specifically how it's doing illegal things to my blood pressure."

"Illegal?" Andrew laughed, the sound shaky but genuine. "I'm not even wearing the good one. This is my 'please don't notice the coffee stain' hoodie."

"Still works," Inko muttered, then reached out without thinking. Her paw brushed against the soft fabric stretched across his chest, and they both froze at the contact. "Sorry, I just—"

"Don't be," Andrew breathed. His claw covered her paw, pressing it gently against the warmth of his hoodie. "You can... you can touch. If you want. I mean, this is definitely heading somewhere and I'm not opposed to—"

They both spoke at once: "I really want to kiss you—" "I was hoping you'd say that—"

The words collided in the air between them, and then they were moving, drawn together by mutual magnetic pull. Andrew's other hand came up to cup her cheek, his claws gentle against her fur, and Inko's eyes fluttered shut as their lips met in the middle of the dice-strewn floor.

It was soft at first, tentative, like they were both afraid of breaking something. Then Andrew made this tiny sound—half sigh, half whimper—and Inko pressed closer, her free hand finding his shoulder. The kiss deepened slowly, naturally, like they'd done this a thousand times in dreams.

When they pulled apart, foreheads still touching, Inko could feel Andrew's breath against her whiskers. "So," she whispered, "your place or mine? Wait, this is mine. Your place or... here?"

"Here works," Andrew said, voice rough. "Here definitely works. But maybe... maybe not on the floor? Unless you're into that, which would also be—"

"The bed," Inko interrupted, her tail swishing hard enough to scatter more dice. "The bed is good. It's... it's clean. Ish. Clean-adjacent."

They stood together, hands still linked, and Inko realized she was trembling slightly. Not from fear, but from the overwhelming realization that this was happening—this adorable, awkward, perfect crocodile wanted her. She squeezed his fingers gently.

"For the record," she said as they moved toward the bed, "I've never done this either. The whole... first date that might become more thing."

"Good," Andrew said, surprising her. "That means we can be terrible at it together."

The bed dipped under their combined weight as they sat, still holding hands like teenagers at prom. The D.Va plushie had been carefully placed on the nightstand, watching over them like a tiny guardian. Somewhere in the distance, Inko's phone buzzed with a notification, but neither of them moved to check it.

"So," Inko said, turning to face him fully. "What happens now?"

Andrew's answer was to lean in again, slower this time, giving her every chance to pull away. When she didn't—when she met him halfway instead—it felt like the start of something that had been waiting in both their character sheets all along.

The silence stretched between them like a held breath. Andrew's amber eyes widened behind his glasses, the compliment hanging in the air like a spell he'd never expected to be cast. Inko's paws curled in her lap, tail flicking nervously as she wondered if she'd just ruined everything with her big stupid mouth.

Then Andrew moved.

It was barely perceptible at first—just a subtle shift of his weight on her bed, the springs creaking softly as he scooted closer. He fumbled for his phone like it was the most natural thing in the world, holding it out with slightly trembling claws. "I, uh... I have this meme saved that you'd probably like. It's... it's stupid but—"

Inko leaned in before he could finish, her shoulder brushing against his arm. The contact sent a jolt through them both—she could feel the warmth of his body even through their hoodies, the solid bulk of him making her feel impossibly small and delicate in comparison. His scent enveloped her—not cologne, just warm crocodile and something sweet that might have been the cookie dough he'd mentioned.

"Show me," she breathed, though her attention was entirely on the way his scales looked up close, the subtle patterning that caught the light from her RGB keyboard. She could see the tiny scar on his snout, the way his glasses had slipped down again, the nervous flutter of his throat when he swallowed.

The phone slipped from his claws.

They both lunged for it at the same time, their hands colliding with a soft thud. Andrew's claws were warm against her paw pads, slightly rough in a way that made her shiver. They froze like that, neither pulling away, their hands tangled together over the fallen phone.

"Inko," Andrew whispered, her name sounding like a prayer.

She met his eyes and saw her own nervousness reflected there, but also something else—wonder, maybe. Or hope. The distance between them had shrunk to nothing, close enough that she could count the flecks of gold in his irises, see the way his pupils dilated as they stared at each other.

The decision felt monumental and tiny all at once. Inko leaned forward, tilting her chin up, and their noses bumped awkwardly as their lips finally met. It was brief—just a soft press of mouths that lasted maybe three seconds before they pulled back, both giggling nervously.

"Smooth," Andrew muttered, his face flushed a deeper green. "Real smooth. Sorry, I—"

"Shut up," Inko said fondly, and kissed him again.

This time she angled her head properly, and the contact was better—softer, lingering. His lips were slightly chapped but warm, and when she tentatively moved against him, he made this tiny sound in the back of his throat that went straight to her tail. She felt his free hand come up to cup her cheek, his claws gentle against her fur, and she melted into the touch.

The third kiss was when everything clicked.

It started slow—just the soft press of lips—but then Andrew's mouth parted slightly, and suddenly they were kissing properly, the way she'd only ever imagined. His tongue was warm and soft, tasting faintly of the mint gum he'd clearly chewed on the way over, and when she met it with her own, he made that sound again—lower this time, more desperate.

Inko's hands found his shoulders, gripping the soft fabric of his hoodie as she pressed closer. She could feel the solid warmth of him, the way his chest rose and fell rapidly beneath her palms. His hand slid from her cheek to tangle in the fur at the base of her ear, and the sensation made her gasp into his mouth.

They broke apart just long enough to breathe, foreheads still touching, before diving back in. This time Inko shifted closer, swinging one leg over so she was half-straddling his lap, her knees bracketing his thighs. Andrew's hands moved to her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she could feel the hard line of something pressing against her through their clothes.

"Fuck," she whispered against his lips, grinding down instinctively. "Is that—"

"Sorry," Andrew gasped, his whole face burning. "I can't—it's been a while, and you're—fuck, you're so—"

"Good," Inko interrupted, kissing him again. "That's good. I want—" She rolled her hips experimentally, and Andrew's claws flexed against her waist, digging in just enough to make her moan. "I want to see you. All of you."

They pulled apart just enough to fumble with their hoodies, both of them trying to undress at once and getting tangled. Inko's hoodie caught on her ears, making her yelp, and Andrew nearly elbowed her in the face trying to help. By the time they were both shirtless, they were laughing breathlessly, the tension broken by their mutual awkwardness.

Andrew's chest was everything she'd hoped—soft and round, his green scales gleaming in the low light. She could see the faint outline of his nipples through the scales, darker patches that looked almost purple in the dimness. Her paws moved without thinking, pressing against the warm solidity of him, tracing the curve where soft met softer.

"You're gorgeous," she breathed, leaning in to kiss the spot just below his jaw. The scales there were thinner, more sensitive, and Andrew's breath hitched as she tasted him.

"Speak for yourself," he groaned, his hands moving to her own chest. His claws were gentle as they traced the lighter fur across her breasts, circling her nipples until they hardened under his touch. "Tanuki girls... fuck, you're built like a dream."

"Built like a snack," Inko corrected with a nervous giggle, then gasped as he pinched lightly. "Andrew—"

"I've got you," he whispered, kissing her again, deeper this time. His hands moved lower, tracing the soft curve of her belly, the way her fur thickened around her waist. "So soft. Perfect."

Their mouths met again and again, each kiss getting more desperate. Inko's hands explored downward, finding the waistband of his sweatpants, hesitating until Andrew nodded against her lips. She pushed her hand inside, finding him hot and hard and leaking slightly, and they both groaned at the contact.

"Fuck, Inko—" His hips jerked forward into her grip, and she stroked him experimentally, learning the shape of him. He was thicker than she'd expected, the scales giving way to warm flesh, and she marveled at the way he felt in her hand.

"My turn," Andrew said roughly, and his hand slipped between them, pushing past her waistband to find her already wet and swollen. The first touch of his claws against her clit made her gasp, her entire body going rigid with pleasure.

They fumbled together like this for long minutes—touching, stroking, kissing, learning each other's bodies through layers of clothing that suddenly felt too restrictive. Andrew's fingers were surprisingly dexterous, finding spots that made her see stars, while her own hand worked him steadily until his breathing became ragged.

"Bed," Andrew panted finally. "We should—fuck, we should move to the bed properly. Before I come in my pants like a teenager."

Inko laughed breathlessly, the sound turning into a moan as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "God yes. Yes, bed. Now."

They somehow managed to untangle themselves, though it took several tries—at one point Andrew's claw got caught in her hair, and Inko nearly fell backwards trying to help. By the time they tumbled onto the bed properly, they were both half-naked and fully hard, giggling against each other's mouths as they kissed and touched and learned exactly how well they fit together.

"So," Inko whispered between kisses, her hand still wrapped around him, stroking slowly. "What's the initiative roll for getting to second base?"

Andrew's laugh was warm against her neck as he pressed closer, his fingers sliding deeper. "Nat 20," he groaned. "Definitely a nat fucking 20."

"Bed," Andrew panted finally. "We should—fuck, we should move to the bed properly. Before I come in my pants like a teenager."

Inko laughed breathlessly, the sound turning into a moan as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "God yes. Yes, bed. Now."

The transition from sitting to lying down was its own comedy of errors. Inko tried to scoot backwards onto the bed and got her foot tangled in the duvet. Andrew went to help and accidentally kneed her in the thigh. They ended up in a heap, limbs akimbo, laughing so hard their faces hurt.

"Okay," Inko gasped, wiping tears from her eyes, "new plan. We take this one step at a time before someone gets a concussion."

Andrew nodded vigorously, then paused. "Are we... are we really doing this?"

Inko looked up at him, his green scales flushed darker with arousal, his amber eyes wide and earnest behind fogged glasses. "Yeah," she said softly. "Yeah, I think we are."

They started with shirts. Andrew's hoodie came off first, revealing the soft expanse of his chest and belly, his scales catching the dim light from her RGB keyboard. Inko's breath caught as her hands found his skin, warm and smooth under her palms. She traced the curve where his neck met his shoulder, marveling at how solid he felt.

"You're gorgeous," she whispered, pressing a kiss to the space just above his collarbone.

Andrew made a strangled sound. "You haven't even seen me properly yet."

"I see you perfectly," Inko argued, then yelped as her own hoodie got stuck on her ears. "Fuck, hold on—"

"Need help?" Andrew reached for the hem, his claws careful not to snag the fabric as he eased it over her head. Her tanuki markings stood out against her flushed skin, and she watched his eyes track over her appreciatively.

"You're beautiful," he said quietly, running a claw down the lighter fur between her breasts. "Exactly like this. Soft and... perfect."

Inko felt tears prick at her eyes. "You too," she managed, then busied herself with his belt before she could get emotional. The buckle gave way easily, but the button on his jeans was another story. Her claws slipped twice before Andrew huffed a laugh and did it himself.

"Team effort," he said, then paused. "Should we... should we keep going?"

Inko answered by pressing another kiss to his mouth, deeper this time, her tongue sliding against his. The kiss seemed to last forever, slow and exploratory, until they were both panting. When they broke apart, she stood shakily and shimmied out of her leggings, leaving her in just her panties. Andrew stared for a moment, then fumbled with his own pants, kicking them off along with his boxers so they landed in a heap on the floor.

They looked at each other then, really looked. Andrew's cock was thick and green, flushed darker at the tip, already leaking precome. Inko's own arousal soaked through her underwear, her thighs trembling slightly. The silence stretched between them, heavy with anticipation and nerves.

"Condom?" Andrew asked finally, his voice hoarse.

Inko nodded, pulling the foil packet from her nightstand drawer—the one she'd bought months ago on a whim, never expecting to actually use it. They tore it open together, their hands bumping, and then Andrew was rolling it down his length with the careful reverence of someone handling something precious.

"Lube," Inko added, reaching for the bottle. It was strawberry-flavored because she'd been feeling whimsical. She squirted too much, the excess dripping onto her sheets, and they both laughed again, a little hysterical.

"Okay," Andrew said, taking a deep breath. "How do we... what's the game plan here?"

Inko bit her lip. "I'm thinking... missionary? Unless you have a preference?"

"Whatever works," Andrew admitted. "I've only done this in theory. Lots of theory."

"Same," Inko said, then climbed onto the bed properly, shifting until she was on her back with Andrew hovering above her. She spread her legs, feeling exposed but also strangely safe with him.

The first attempt was a disaster. Andrew's hips were too low, and he ended up poking her thigh. The second try, she lifted her hips too high and nearly head-butted him. On the third, they finally managed to align, and the blunt press of his cock against her entrance made them both groan.

"Slow," Inko whispered, reaching down to guide him. "Slow and—oh fuck—"

Andrew pushed in gently, the stretch burning slightly, but the lube helped ease the way. He paused every inch or so, checking her face for any signs of discomfort. When he was fully seated, they both held still, panting.

"Okay?" he asked, his voice tight.

"Okay," Inko confirmed, then experimentally rolled her hips. The sensation was overwhelming—full and strange and perfect. "Move. Please."

They found a rhythm slowly, awkwardly at first. Andrew's hips jerked too fast initially, then too slow. Inko's tail kept getting in the way, knocking over the water glass she'd forgotten about, sending a small flood across her nightstand. They laughed even as they moaned, the tension easing into something tender and sweet.

"Touch me," Inko gasped, and Andrew's hand moved between them, finding her clit with surprising accuracy. His thumb circled it gently, and she arched up into the touch, her walls clenching around him.

"Fuck, you're tight," Andrew groaned, his hips stuttering slightly. "I—Inko—"

"Don't stop," she breathed, reaching up to pull him down for another kiss. Their bodies moved together, imperfect and messy, but building toward something beautiful. She could feel the orgasm building, a slow coil of heat deep in her belly.

Andrew's thrusts became more erratic, his breath hot against her neck. "I'm close," he warned, and Inko clung to him, her own climax crashing over her like a wave. She cried out, her walls pulsing around him, and Andrew followed her over the edge with a strangled moan, his cock twitching inside her.

They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, sweat-slicked and trembling. Andrew's forehead rested against hers, and she could feel his heart hammering against her chest.

"Wow," he said eventually, voice rough. "Just... wow."

"Yeah," Inko agreed, then giggled as her tail knocked over the empty lube bottle. "We're kind of a mess."

"The best kind of mess," Andrew corrected, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Can we... can we stay like this for a minute?"

Inko nodded, shifting slightly so he could pull out gently. They rearranged themselves into a comfortable tangle of limbs, Inko's head resting on his chest, one of his arms wrapped around her waist.

"That was," she started, then paused. "Perfect. Awkward and perfect."

"Agreed," Andrew said, his voice warm with satisfaction. "Also, I think I owe you cookies for that critical hit."

Inko laughed, the sound bright and happy. "Well, you're definitely getting a nat 20 on the next performance check."

Andrew collapsed half on top of her, chest heaving, his cock still pulsing inside the condom. The air between them was thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and strawberry lube. Inko’s tanuki fur was matted to her skin, strands of it stuck to Andrew’s chest scales like glue. Their legs were tangled so thoroughly she wasn’t sure where hers ended and his began.

“Fuck,” he panted into her neck, lips brushing the sensitive spot just under her ear. “I think I broke my brain.”

Inko giggled—actually giggled—her entire body still trembling from the aftershocks. “Pretty sure I came so hard I saw constellations. Like, actual star charts. Maybe we unlocked a new spell slot?”

“Critical climax,” he wheezed, and they dissolved into breathless laughter, the kind that made their stomachs hurt and their eyes water. He rolled off her carefully, disposing of the condom with the practiced awkwardness of someone who’d only ever seen it done in health class videos. When he flopped back down beside her, he pulled her close immediately, tucking her head under his chin like they’d been doing this for years.

Inko’s tail swished lazily, brushing against his thigh. “So, uh… that was way better than my fanfiction. Though I did have a scene where the bard seduces the dragon with interpretive dance. We should workshop that later.”

“Please tell me you wrote it in second person,” Andrew said, his voice muffled by her hair. “And gave the dragon a tragic backstory involving lost love and unpaid parking tickets.”

“Obviously. His name was Tharnax, Destroyer of Toll Booths.”

Andrew snorted so hard he jostled them both. “Okay, but ranking the Pokémon cuddle tier list is serious business. Snorlax is S-tier for spooning—like, built-in pillow. But Gardevoir’s got that psychic hug thing where it wraps you in warm feelings, which is technically cheating.”

Inko propped herself up on one elbow, tracing lazy circles on his chest. “Counterpoint: Vaporeon. Water-type, so it’s basically a living hot water bottle. Plus, it purrs.” She paused, her ears flicking. “Wait, do Vaporeon purr? Or is that just wishful thinking?”

“Headcanon accepted,” Andrew declared. “Also, I will fight anyone who says Charizard isn’t at least A-tier. Wings are built-in blankets.”

They lay there trading increasingly ridiculous takes—whether bards should get proficiency checks for pillow talk (Inko argued yes, Andrew insisted it was performance art), debating whether tentacle monsters in hentai were just misunderstood cephalopod paladins. At some point, Inko’s stomach growled loud enough to make Andrew’s glasses rattle.

“Shit, did we miss dinner?” he asked, glancing toward the window where the first pale gold streaks of dawn were creeping in. “Dawn raid. We’re the worst at scheduling.”

Inko pressed a kiss to his collarbone. “We’ve got leftover pizza in the fridge. Cold pizza and post-coital cuddles is basically a power-up.” She paused, then added more softly, “Or we could order breakfast. I know a place that does d20-shaped pancakes.”

Andrew’s eyes lit up behind his smudged lenses. “Are you proposing a breakfast date? Because that’s—fuck, that’s adorable. Also, I have a coupon for free extra syrup if we roll a nat 20 on their app.”

They managed to untangle themselves eventually, though it took three tries and one near-disaster when Andrew’s foot got stuck in the fitted sheet. Inko threw on his hoodie instead of her own—it hung off her smaller frame like a dress, the hem brushing her thighs—and did a twirl in front of the mirror.

“Look,” she said, pulling the hood up so only her nose and whiskers peeked out. “I’m a smol sneaky croc now. Stealth check advantage.”

Andrew wolf-whistled, then immediately looked embarrassed. “Sorry, that was—uh—objectively feral behavior. I blame the post-nut confidence spike.”

They raided her kitchen like raccoons, eating cold pizza while standing naked at the counter because neither wanted to put on pants yet. At one point, Andrew dipped a crust into her coffee (“Don’t knock it till you try it, it’s like a breakfast sandwich but sadder”), and Inko declared it their new tradition. They ended up back in bed with a half-eaten box of Pop-Tarts between them, trading bites and lazy kisses, powdered sugar dusting their fur like snow.

“I have a confession,” Andrew said, licking strawberry filling off his thumb. “I looked up your cosplay Instagram. You did that genderbent Legosi and I’ve been mentally unstable ever since.”

Inko’s ears went flat. “You stalked my thirst traps?”

“Respectfully,” he corrected. “With scholarly appreciation. There was a whole Excel spreadsheet—”

“You made a spreadsheet of my ass?!”

“—of your *costumes*,” he insisted, cheeks flushing. “The ass was... a bonus. Like DLC content.”

Inko tackled him, straddling his waist and pinning his wrists above his head. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she growled, nipping his ear. “And that I’m currently too sex-stoned to be mad.”

Andrew flipped them easily, reversing their positions with surprising strength. “Speaking of sex-stoned,” he murmured, grinding against her slowly, “I’ve got stamina potions left. Just saying.”

They made love again, slower this time—exploring with lips and tongues and fingers, mapping each other’s bodies like they were charting a new campaign map. Andrew discovered that licking the spot just behind Inko’s ear made her tail arch like a question mark. She found that tracing the seam where his thigh met his groin made his breath hitch in the most delicious way. When they came—Inko first, clenching around his fingers, then Andrew with a broken moan against her shoulder—it was quieter but no less intense, the kind that left them boneless and giddy.

After, they showered together under the weak dorm water pressure, taking turns washing each other’s backs. Inko marveled at how the water made Andrew’s scales gleam like wet jade, while he traced the soap suds down her spine, pausing to count the freckles on her shoulders. They emerged pink-skinned and giggling, wrapped in towels that barely covered anything.

“I’m stealing your hoodie,” Inko announced, toweling her tail dry. “It smells like you and victory.”

“You can have it,” Andrew said, toweling his hair into chaotic spikes. “But only if you promise to wear it during our next campaign. I want advantage on seduction rolls.”

They crawled back into bed, sticky and exhausted, the sheets a disaster zone of lube stains and pizza grease. Inko’s phone buzzed with a 3 AM text from her roommate: *did you finally get laid or is someone getting murdered in there*. She snorted, showing it to Andrew, who immediately typed back: *both*. They added a crying-laughing emoji and turned the phone face-down.

As the first real sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting stripes across their tangled bodies, Andrew pulled her close. “So,” he said, voice soft, “next date. I’m thinking we do a co-op run of It Takes Two. Every time we die, we have to remove an item of clothing.”

Inko hummed, tracing hearts on his chest. “Counter-offer: Stardew Valley co-op. Every time one of us gives the other a gift, we have to make out for thirty seconds.”

“Deal,” he said immediately. “Also, my birthday’s in October. I’ve always wanted to try couples’ cosplay. You’d make a killer Zero Suit Samus, and I’ve got the perfect Ridley tail—”

“Stop,” Inko giggled, poking his snout. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. We haven’t even discussed safe words for when you inevitably power-bottom during boss fights.”

They dozed off like that, her head on his chest, his tail curled protectively around her waist. The last thing Inko remembered was Andrew mumbling, “My D&D group’s gonna lose their shit when I tell them my bard multiclassed into ‘boyfriend’,” before sleep dragged them both under.

Three days later, Inko’s phone buzzed while she was elbow-deep in midterm essays. The message was simple:

[Andrew_Croc94]: Level 20 bard reporting for duty. Brought d20-shaped pancakes and a suspicious amount of lube. Also, my mom wants your mom’s cookie recipe. Apparently we’re dating now? 😳

Inko grinned so hard her cheeks hurt. She typed back:

[Inko_TrashQueen]: Critical hit on the boyfriend roll. Bring the Ridley tail. I’ll bring the safe word: “marshmallow.” 🥰

She hit send, then added one last thing:

[Inko_TrashQueen]: Also, I love you. Like, embarrassingly d20-advantage-in-every-roll love you.

The reply came instantly:

[Andrew_Croc94]: Nat 20 on that declaration. Love you too, player two. See you at spawn. ❤️

Inko tucked her phone away, tail swishing happily. Outside her window, campus bustled with students who had no idea that somewhere, a chubby crocodile was buying strawberry lube in bulk because his tanuki girlfriend was the best co-op partner he’d ever had.

And in her heart, Inko knew she’d finally rolled the perfect character sheet: Lover, level 1. Alignment: Soft. Special ability: Infinite cuddles. Critical hit: Forever.

Sexfriends ?

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