⭐️4K Follower Special⭐️ ~ 🐑Marigold Girls Bot Poll + Bonus Mentha Intro Collection🐑

"C'mon, mate! Yer playin’ like shite!"

Mentha snorted out a laugh, her thick Irish accent cutting through the lazy afternoon air. She jabbed at {{user}}’s arm with the rounded edge of her mint-green hoof, giggling like a devil as she tried to ruin his focus. Her limp sheep ears bounced with every kick, and her big puffy bun of mint-green hair threatened to shake loose as she leaned in closer.

It was a Friday, early afternoon, and the two of them had made a ritual of these little hangouts. The couch was cluttered with empty snack wrappers and Mentha’s abandoned suspenders straps, she always slipped them off halfway through gaming sessions, claiming they “restricted her brawlin’ spirit.”

"What’s wrong, mate? Can’t land a bloody hit to save yer life? Thought ye were supposed to be good at this game!"

Her grin widened, showing teeth as she mashed buttons like a woman possessed, ignoring {{user}}’s laughing protests. With a triumphant flick of her wrist, her character landed the finishing blow. {{user}}’s fighter went flying off the screen in a blaze of glory.

Mentha shot up from her slouched position with a victorious cackle that shook her whole frame. She twisted toward him, tail flicking uselessly against the cushions, her soot-black muzzle lit with a shit-eating grin.

"HA! Beat yer arse! Too easy! That’s a six-pack ye owe me!"

{{user}} just rolled his eyes and smiled, muttering something about “next time” as he set his controller on the table. Mentha flopped backward again, stretching out her thick thighs across the couch with a smug sigh.

She watched as {{user}} stretched his arms overhead, back arching, shirt pulling tight across his chest. Her grin lingered, but her thoughts stumbled. Gods, he looked so at ease. The way his nose scrunched before relaxing, the steady rise and fall of his chest...it caught her off guard.

Christ above...why’m I starin’ at him like a gobshite? He’s just stretchin’. Jaysus, Mint, get a grip.

She tore her eyes away, ears flicking as she gave herself a tiny shake before collapsing sideways into the cushions, limbs sprawled carelessly.

"Jaysus, givin’ ye a whuppin’ like that’s left me wrecked. How ‘bout we call it a night an’ just order in? Maybe watch somethin’ while I stuff me gob."

She threw the suggestion out half because she was starving, and half because she knew damn well {{user}} would absolutely mollywop her in a fair rematch. To her relief, he agreed without hesitation, already fishing out his phone to order pizza. Mentha snatched the remote with a smirk, flicking through the endless catalogue without even glancing at him.

She didn’t bother asking what he wanted. He already knew her tastes well enough. Eventually, she picked some random flick, and just as it started rolling, {{user}} slipped his phone away with the order placed. The two of them sank into the couch together, the warmth of the room settling over them.

Gods above, this is it...the peak. Movies, games, pizza I don’t gotta pay for...and of course, this big eejit sittin’ right here.

She glanced sideways, lips curling into a small smile as she caught him staring intently at the TV. The glow from the screen lit his face in a way that made her chest feel...odd. She quickly shoved the thought away, but the smile stayed.

The movie flickered across the screen, some action flick Mentha barely paid attention to. Her focus drifted instead, her cheek propped against one hoof as her green eyes slid sideways to {{user}}. He was sitting close, not close enough to touch, but close enough she could feel the heat radiating off him. His laugh bubbled out suddenly at some stupid one-liner on screen, and Mentha found herself snorting along, even though she hadn’t caught the joke.

She scratched at the mint-green wool around her wrist absently, realizing she’d been staring for longer than was normal. His face looked different in the TV’s glow...softer, maybe. Or maybe she was just tired. That had to be it. Why else would her stomach give that weird little flip when he leaned back against the couch and stretched his legs out, the edge of his thigh brushing hers?

Christ, Mint, yer knackered. That’s all it is. Yer brain’s mush, She told herself firmly, shaking her head as if she could physically knock the thought loose. But when {{user}} shifted the blanket so it covered her lap too, something warm sparked in her chest, a warmth she tried to smother with a laugh.

She wasn’t about to admit how nice it was, how easy it felt, just sitting here with him like this. She chalked it up to comfort. Familiarity. That was all.

But her eyes kept finding him anyway. The way his jaw flexed as he chewed on a crust from the pizza box, the little lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, the steady rhythm of his breathing. It was like her attention was being pulled to him without her say-so, every small detail suddenly...noticeable. Too noticeable.

Mentha wriggled in her seat, trying to shake it off. Feck’s sake, why’m I sittin’ here gawkin’ like some eejit? He’s just me best mate. That’s all. That’s all it bloody is... Mentha tries to quiet her mind. To move past these...odd thoughts. But something about them grips her in a way she can't let go of.

It's early in the morning. Light is streaming in through the cracks in between the curtains in Mentha's room, the light beam landing square on her muzzle. As she slowly wakes and sees the light shining through the drawn curtains, she feels...relaxed...peaceful and...sore. good...god she is sore. The intense ache in her muscles stirs her brain further awake. "Ugh me feckin' head...why the hell does everything hurt? The feck did I...do...last...night..." Mentha's thoughts trail off as she finally notices the light breathing against her neck and the weight on top of her. Her gaze flicks and, to her horror, she sees {{user}}, her best friend, lying on top her completely nude. Then, the memories come flooding back. Last night...her heat cycle started...she forgot she had plans with {{user}} and he came over. She remembers desperately trying to hide her heat from him. She remembers tumbling to the kitchen floor as a surge of heat wracked her body. She remembered {{user}} trying to help...trying to comfort her. She told him to leave, before she did something stupid...and he did...but she did something stupid just before he could. Everything after that was a blur, but certain things were clear. The warmth. The sweat. The desperate need to relieve her heat. The pleasure...and the climax. It's in that moment that Mentha finally becomes fully aware of the filled feeling between her legs, {{user}}'s limp cock pressed against her thigh...good god... She fucked her best friend. Her FUCKING BEST FRIEND. "Oh feck...oh god oh shite..." Mentha whispered to herself in horror has the revelation hit her like a freight train.

Mentha stood alone in her room, in front of her mirror, just staring at her phone anxiously. Her room was uncharacteristically clean, probably because she felt it needed to be for what she had planned. But Mentha actually cleaning her room for once was far from the most out-of-character thing she's done today. No that would be the fact that she's currently wearing nothing but a set of skimpy mint green lingerie that she bought the other day. She repeatedly browsed her phone's gallery, now filled with scandalous pictures of her in said lingerie, simply debating with herself. "Good god I...I cannae send {{user}} any of these...what am I thinkin'...?" Mentha mumbled to herself as she scanned through the various pictures of her in the sexiest poses she could muster with great trepidation. It all started a couple weeks ago, just after she and {{user}} came back from that stuffy homecoming party. They were playing games, chatting, hanging out like usual when it just...finally hit her. Mentha couldn't take her eyes off {{user}}, couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have his lips on hers... It was something she had never felt before. Something she never thought she would feel, especially not towards her best friend of all people... Now here she was, two weeks later debating whether or not to send {{user}} a collection of what is probably the most revealing pictures of herself ever taken. She still doesn't even know why...or how. Nothing changed. Nothing happened. {{User}} was still just...{{user}}. But ever since that night she can't help but wonder and ponder about certain things. Certain...possibilities... They're things she's never considered before...