#particularly around the golden age

[fairmerthefarmer]

One time for character design practice I decided to draw Captain Drinian and also give him a sister except I’m not much of a writer so I don’t even have a name for her, all I know about her is that she’s an asexual lesbian, and like super strong or something.

Also I just want to believe that Lucy wasn’t the only woman on that ship the entire time.

#and that they are both ride or die for each other and caspian #also did this to practice box braids and locs #narnia #voyage of the dawn treader #artists on tumblr #character design #oc art #illustration #c.s. Lewis #fantasy oc #chronicles of narnia #drinian #caspian x #I love thinking about the lore and headcanons for narnia #particularly around the golden age #but also caspians era #cause it’s rebuilding this new kingdom with even more variety in citizens #I like thinking about the telmarines that stayed and why #this also exists cause I’m bisexual #fairmerthefarmer art #prince caspian #vdt

[katiefrog217]

AziraCrow | Book Reading

(Scroll down for mini story vvvv) + (Companion Piece)

Aziraphale liked books, especially the old ones. They were the main reason for owning his bookshop, after all.

He loved reading them, too. Sitting quietly in the back of his bookshop with a good book and the occasional accompaniment of an old record made for quite the delightful evening, in his opinion. Despite his being handless (and therefore, fingerless), Aziraphale was perfectly capable of turning pages on his own. Not with his talons of course; Heaven only knew the trouble that would come from attempting to turn the aging and potentially fragile paper with such unreliable instruments. It would be a simple enough fix if a page did happen to tear, but the memory would haunt him forever. Instead, all it took was a flick of his wing and woosh, the pages would turn themselves. Sometimes he just had to ask nicely. However, there were times that he didn't need to expend the effort.

Those times just so happened to coincide with a particularly serpentine visitor.

Crowley's visits were irregular and not always predictable. Most of the time he would pop in to complain about Who-Knows-What and disappear off to Who-Knows-Where. Sometimes he would stay longer, and they would share a glass of wine or some other alcohol, chatting a lot about nothing and reminiscing about times long passed until the shadows grew long. On rare occasions they would sit in comfortable silence, doing nothing more than enjoying each other's company. Aziraphale would then pick a book to read and Crowley would slither over to join him.

Of course, Crowley didn't like reading - or at least claimed he didn't. 'Not worth his time,' he'd say dismissively. Still, he (bored expression and all) would come, make himself comfortable by coiling around both the book stand and Aziraphale, and just watch. Just about anyone on Earth would likely be uncomfortable being stared down by such an intense gaze, but not Aziraphale. Over the many millennia, he has grown used to being observed by those golden eyes. Dare he say, he even found it comforting in a way, but that was besides the point.

He wasn't sure how it started; perhaps Crowley found himself overly bored that day, but he began turning the book pages whenever Aziraphale raised his wing to compel them instead. It had started him at first, and he had looked to Crowley with much confusion, though the demon had nothing to say in return. He merely shrugged (or at least it could be considered the serpentine equivalent of a shrug) and turned away. A few more pages in, and he'd turn them again. This happened over and over until Aziraphale heaved a sigh gave in, allowing the serpent to do as he wanted. At first, it was quite awkward to give verbal cues, and there were times when he became so engrossed in his reading that he forgot entirely, but eventually they settled into a comfortable rhythm. Nowadays he didn't even bother. It had become almost automatic: Aziraphale would finish the page and it would turn, no questions asked.

Aziraphale suspected it would baffle the minds of many to see a demon treat anything so gently, yet Crowley turned the pages in such a way that they were never bent nor crumpled. In fact, it seemed to him that the older the book was, the gentler Crowley'd be. He seemed... 'content' was the wrong word to describe his attitude towards the activity, but he never said a word otherwise. At least, not to Aziraphale.

He never pointed this out, of course. Crowley would stop doing it if he did, and he didn't WANT him to stop. He enjoyed it too much.

Once in a blue moon, Crowley would make a comment about whatever Aziraphale was reading at the time. It was often snide, mocking, not always audible. Hisses of exasperation or an exaggerated eye roll were not uncommon either. Then he would turn away, bored despondence washing over his face, shutting down any attempts to further the conversation. Not that he would respond if Aziraphale did, though that hadn't stopped him from trying. On one occasion Aziraphale had tried to push the topic, only for Crowley to deflect, insisting that he had only glanced the passage at random. He stopped turning the pages then. Aziraphale never tried again and settled with only giving him sidelong glances when he said something particularly egregious.

And so they would read, the silence broken only by the ticking of an old clock and the occasionally rustle of a page.

...

Aziraphale liked his books.

He liked reading them alone in his bookshop.

But he liked them best when Crowley was there to turn the pages for him.

#katiefrog217 #good omens #my art #aziracrow #fanart #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #azirabirb #snake crowley #good omens crowley #crowley x aziraphale #anthony j crowley #crowley #dove aziraphale #mini comic #good omens fanart #good omens art #writing #good omens writing #I'm bad at comics don't come for me #I haven't written in a while so if the prose is awkward I apologize #ineffable idiots #ineffable spouses

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter six

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): 18+ content, light smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, mentions of curses and dark magic

series masterlist; previous part; next part

You both silently stared at eachother, surrounded by the knickknacks in the Room of Requirement.

"You look like you're thinking awfully hard." you say in a teasing whisper.

"I'm trying to figure out if that really just happened, or if the weed has fogged up my brain." he replies in with a huffed laugh. You laugh and step a little closer to him so that you're chest to chest and you stare up into his eyes as you smile. Gods, he was so fucking tall.

I can assure you, it was very real.

He smirked.

So you wouldn't mind if I did it again?

He kissed you with fervour. You felt insatiable; you felt like an addict, longing for more of his touch.

Mattheo. He groaned when you mentally whined his name.

You sound so pretty, sweetheart.

His hands trailed from your hips to your shoulders, until they cradled your face, bringing you even closer so he could deepen the kiss. Then, almost as if he didn't know where to settle them, his hands trailed back down, past your hips to the curve of your bum, cupping the underside of your thighs.

"Jump for me." he mumbles as his grip tightens. You do as he says and he brings your face to his level, causing your arms to briefly squeeze at his shoulders before you loosen them and bring your palms to cradle his face, angling your's to a better position. He groans, moving his lips to the long column of your neck; you tilt your head to the side to give him more access.

You drive me mad, sweetheart. Gods I don't think I'll ever be able to stop.

Then don't. You whimper as his teeth graze a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

"Tell me you want this." he mumbles, licking and sucking at your sensitive skin.

"I want this- Gods I want you so badly." your reply is delayed as you lose yourself in the euphoric feeling of him. Suddenly you're spun around and dropped, rather unceremoniously, on the plush velvet cushions of the chaise lounge that Mattheo was utilising before you came in; he was towering over you, leaning on his strong forearms that were positioned on either side of your head.

He presses forward and kisses your lips softly, gently trailing them down your chin, to your neck, his body moving to hover over your's so that his hands could toy with the fabric of your blue and bronze tie. Silently asking if he can remove the obstacle in the form of your school uniform and you happily oblige, shoving away at your robe sleeves as he meticulously undoes the knot of your tie. You repeat the same motion with the emerald and silver tie donning his collar and fight to remove the buttons from the holes of his shirt which leaves an open view of his stunningly sculpted abdominals that ripple against supple, tanned skin.

Patience, sweetheart. He says, his voice echoing in every crevice of your mind. Smooth and silky like honey.

He kisses you again before his mouth travels south, his fingers deftly removing your arms from the sleeves of your shirt once he got the buttons undone.

"Gods. You're a criminal for hiding all of this from me, sweetheart." He mumbles into the skin of your collarbone, onyx eyes staring up at you under his long lashes, desire deepening steadily.

You furrow your brows. "What?"

He sucks a deep mark into your skin before soothing it with his tongue.

"Your body is divine, Meadow." he groans as he kisses along the strap of your bra, one hand travelling behind your back and lifting your body up, with your help, so that he can unclip it, with unsurprisingly accurate precision.

Mattheo moves even further down your body, hands beginning to massage the sensitive skin of your thighs as he spreads them apart, flipping the fabric of your skirt up. He's pressing kisses at your naval now, following a path from the bottom of your belly button to the edge of your panties. He huffs a laugh at the fact that you had coincidentally decided on wearing a lacy dark green pair that day.

Piss off. Your voice is a low grumble in the forefront of his mind, which only makes him laugh more. But he sobers quickly, pressing a kiss to where your clit sits under the cover of your panties. He teases you like that for a long minute: presses kisses to and massages the sensitive area, watching you with hawk-like eyes as you squirm under his hold.

Your whines and moans spurred him on, so he continued until you were practically begging for him to do something...anything more.

"What's the magic word, sweetheart?" he teases, his voice a low, taunting rasp.

"Please." you mumble with a whimper. Matt-"

That's seemingly all it takes for his resolve to crack and he practically tears the underwear from your body, throwing up somewhere behind him. Immediately, he buries his face in your core, using his tongue to lap up the wetness that had begun to pool there, thumb brushing sensually against your clit.

Gods. You're so wet. 'S this all for me? You can't see his expression from where he's devouring you whole, but you can feel and hear the smirk in his voice.

"Yes!" He was so good. So effortlessly good that you didn't know if you'd exclaimed out loud or in your head. It was so overwhelmingly good.

He lapped at your centre like you were the first meal he'd had in days, and when you felt a familiar tightening in your core, he seemed to become more feral, transcending from a man starved, to something entirely more alluring.

When he used two of his fingers to scissor you open while his thumb nimbly rubbed fast circles on your clit, you came with a shout, curling over his body, and yanking at the mop of unruly black curls atop his head. He groaned and you keened from the overstimulation as he carried on, speed increasing in fervour as he kissed, sucked and licked at your most sensitive parts.

"Matt- Théo, please! T-too much! Ah!" you were reduced to a babbling and whining mess as he took his fill from you, hands tracing soothing circles against your thighs as he brought you through your climax.

When he finally relented, you were panting from exhaustion, eyes glazed with lust and skin shiny with sweat. When you looked at him, you all but melted into a puddle of desire: his mouth and chin was slick with your cum and he was slowly sucking the fingers he'd had inside you, not thirty seconds ago. Gods he was so fucking attractive.

You weren't even ashamed to be openly oggling him as he used his discarded wand to summon a couple flannels to clean you both up.

"You taste heavenly, sweetheart." he mumbles as he presses another kiss to your lips. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue. You want more. You want him.

"No. The first time I fuck you will be in a bed, sweetheart. Not some old chaise lounge in the middle of a room that anyone can walk into." he says with a smirk as you narrow your eyes at him, but your face only holds a sort of satiated amusement.

"Get out of my head, you dick." you let out an airy giggle as he flicks your forehead lightly.

It all feels so...domestic. Completely flipping what you thought you knew about him. But you suppose you'd learnt more about him in the weeks you'd spent in his presence than you had in the entire almost six years you'd been at Hogwarts.

You'd never seen this side of him before, however.

"If you tell a soul, I'll have to do unspeakable things to you." he says, smirking as he unapologetically rifles through your recent thoughts, but you find that you really don't care.

"What sort of unspeakable things?" you ask, a teasing lilt to your tone.

He only chuckles, that wicked smirk gracing his features.

"One day, you'll find out, but not today. We need to talk." The serious tone of his voice washes away any of the warm, bubbly feelings you had garnered at his response to a possible repeat of whatever had just transpired. Sobering you up from your lust-driven state immediately.

~∞~

As you both go through the motions of sorting yourselves out properly, you're relieved that the atmosphere, at the very least, isn't an awkward one. Once you're in your uniform once again, creases smoothed out, tie neat and pristine, arms folded across your chest, Mattheo guides you through the meandering trails that littered the Room of Requirement, until you come across something akin to a library – towering bookshelves and a cosy looking sofa, complete with an old mahogany coffee table.

"Sit down, Princess." he says softly, and you do as he says, watching as he walks to the nearest bookshelf and reaches for a book on a particularly high shelf, titled A History of Curses and Dark Magic, Volume Three.

"What are we going to read eachother post-coital stories now too?" you scoff with an unsatisfied scowl on your face.

"Not quite." he chuckles at your put-out expression. "I've spent the last week researching different curses and forms of detecting dark magic." He sits beside you, thigh brushing against your's. "And I think I've found out what's happening to you."

Curiously you take the book from his hand. It was old, heavy. The pages were beginning to brown and tear at the edges, the spine cracked insurmountably.

"What did you find out?" you ask, turning to look at him, to find him staring at the column of your neck, where he'd left a mirage of love bites and hickeys. You smirk as he mumbles a basic healing charm, watching the way his face sours when the marks magically fade away.

"Can you show me what happened when Dumbledore gave you the ring you told me about?" he questions, bumping his thigh to your's. "Open your your mind to that memory, like I taught you."

You do as he says, closing your eyes and allowing the vivid memory to take ahold in your mind, your own voice a distorted echo as you feel Mattheo's presence permeating the memory.

"Interesting." Dumbledore says as he pulls an old signet ring from his deep robe pocket, holding it out for you to take. You watch imperceptibly as Mattheo narrows his eyes on the ring, his ring.

"Can you tell me what you feel when you touch this, please?" Dumbledore's voice echoes in your mind. You do as he says and take the ring into your hands. Twisting it around your fingers, allowing your magic to swirl around it before it burns your fingers. You drop it in an instant. That same cold, tingling feeling you felt when Blaise rotated the necklace washed over you right afterward.

"It's cursed?" you asked, looking up at the Headmaster for confirmation, who is staring at you with knowing, inquisitive eyes.

"Something like that, yes." he says, his decaying hand twitches in response. You watch as the ring seems to vibrate in your lap, something that was amiss to you in the original moment.

You suck in a breathe when you're both forced from the memory. Mattheo is looking between you and the book curiously.

"The way your magic surrounded the ring. It's beautiful." he says. "It's one of seven, you know. I have one and the other five are in the manor."

The signet ring on his hand, that you never seemed to notice before, glints in the dim light of the room, the insignia is identical to the one in Dumbledore's possession.

"Seven rings?"

"No, seven heirlooms. Two rings and five other things that I've never been allowed to touch. They're all quite ugly actually, never had any use for them."

"I don't think the ring is ugly." you say, taking ahold of his hand to bring the ring closer to your face. "It's weird. I felt the energy in the one Dumbledore gave me the second he walked into the room, as well as in the memory itself. This one feels....lifeless."

"The book says it has something to do with different magical cores." Mattheo explains and you nod in understanding.

"You can do wandless magic just as well as you can do non-verbal magic." a statement, not a question. as if he already knows the answer and just wants to hear proof. "But wandless magic takes even the greatest witch or wizard years to master." he continues. "I've seen your development. It took you mere months to master that skill."

"Stalking me now, Riddle?" you tease, but when he doesn't entertain your jokes, your smirk drops. "What are you insinuating?"

"Where do you draw your magic from when you perform wandless magic?"

It's a bit of a taboo in the wizarding world. If you told your friends about the source of power you use, you'd surely be looked at like you were insane, specifically by Hermione who would've surely come across this sort of thing in her mountains of extracurricular reading. But you had grown frustrated when the only progress you'd made upon teaching yourself the throes of wandless magic, was lifting a quill an inch into the air for less than a second. The magic you utilised instead is highly unstable when used incorrectly, and it's borderline illegal in the minds of few people, namely those in the Ministry who specialised in Magical Cores. It teetered on the edge of unassailable power – something most people wouldn't dare mess with.

"I draw it from the air." you mumble, turning away from him, ashamed. "I know it's unconventional. I tried using my own magical core, but it never seemed to work. I did it on accident the first time, but I was successful. Then when I tried again the conventional way, it didn't work. I don't abuse the power, only borrow."

He tilts his head as realisation seems to seep into his features.

"Show me?" he asks, squeezes softly your hand with his large one that you're still holding, unconsciously.

You nod, hesitantly shifting your gaze to the book in his lap. You focus on drawing from the energy surrounding the old hardback, watching as the swirls of your magic, invisible to the boy beside you, intertwined with with potent magic supplied by the Room's core. You felt a rush of power surge through you as the book begin to levitate from Mattheo's lap, only to fly into your awaiting palm. You inhaled sharply at the prickly feeling the magic left coarsing through your veins.

"Incredible." he mumbles as he stares between his lap and the book that you now had in your grip. "And you did that using the magic in the air, not your own?"

You nod. "It always leaves a minute lasting effect afterwards, sort of like a consequence of using another magical source. There has to be a balance. If I do it too much I begin to feel a little dizzy, but I've never fainted like I did in the Wing last week."

"I was right." he mutters to himself, nodding his head, his lips quirking. You raise a brow at him.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?" you question, sarcastically.

"You're a syphon, love."

You sit there for a moment, silently contemplating his words. A syphon. A rare ability among few witches over the centuries; even rarer than a seer.

"How'd you come to that conclusion?"

"I wasn't sure until you showed me how you draw power from the air around you."

When your face drops to a confused frown he draws your body into his, lifting you so that you're sat on his lap, facing him.

"Listen. This isn't a bad thing. It's far from a bad thing. Trust me, sweetheart." he reassures. It's obvious to you that he knows something that you don't.

"What aren't you telling me?" you mumble, hands reaching to mess with the curls at the nape of his neck.

"When its safe for you to know, I'll tell you I promise. But for the sake of saving my friends-"

"And you." you interrupt, but he only shakes his head.

"For the sake of my friends, I can't tell you until the time is right."

"And when will that be? After you ghost me for another week? A month?" you sigh. "Is that what you're going to do when we walk out of here?"

He sighs deeply, his hold on your hips tightening ever so slightly as he brings you closer to him.

"That was a mistake on my part, sweetheart. You make me feel things that I was certain I wouldn't ever feel. I'm truely sorry."

He seals the apology with a long, breathtaking kiss, which momentarily leaves you unable to speak.

~∞~

Some hours later, you're sat beside Hermione at the Gryffindor table for dinner, Harry sat opposite you both. Ron was further down the table with Lavender Brown practically in his lap, the former of your friends sending poorly hidden glares his way.

"How's befriending Professor Slughorn going, Harold?" you ask, taking a sip out of your bronze goblet. After Dumbledore's visit last week, you sought out your three friends and demanded answers regarding Slughorn and Harry. But much like you, Dumbledore wasn't being as straightforward with the Chosen One as he thought he would be, especially after the miscommunication of last year, which inadvertently got Harry's Godfather killed.

"Not brilliantly." Harry mumbled as he stabbed his fork into his chicken.

Hermione scoffed.

"He's completely understating." she said. "It's going abysmally."

"Well, what methods have you used to get the information?" you ask, incredulously. How difficult was it to get information out of a man who spent his free time in the pub drinking away his sobriety?

Harry stammered as he tried to think of a reply and you balked at him.

"You didn't just outright ask him did you? Harry are you an idiot?" He gaped at you as Hermione snickered behind her goblet.

"Dumbledore showed me the half-memory that Slughorn gave him. There's a vital piece of information missing." he cringed as your face morphed into further disbelief. He knew that you knew he'd done the complete opposite of the logical thing to do.

"Don't tell me you tried to play out the memory with him, when Voldemort's own son could have been eavesdropping from fifty feet away?" you snapped, feeling entirely not guilty for dragging Mattheo's name into it. What does that say about the person you've began transitioning into?

"I'm not an idiot." he ignored your deadpan look, shaking his head he rambled on. "I sought him out after our last potions lesson, when everyone had left."

He stopped abruptly, turning to Hermione who, in turn, swivelled to face you.

"Speaking of Riddle," she started. "You weren't in the library earlier when I went to find you. Actually, I haven't seen you since after Ancient Runes after lunch."

"You're name wasn't on the map." Harry accused, eyes narrowing behind his thin wire glasses. "Riddle's wasn't either."

"Why were you in the Room of Requirement with him?" Hermione asked gently, as if she were trying to coax a misbehaving child to fess up information.

Internally, you were beginning to panic; the lies and excuses you'd been sporting for Mattheo's sake fizzling out by the seams. Your heart was irratic and you would've confessed there and then, had it not been for the calming presence of Mattheo's magical core in your mind.

What's wrong sweetheart, you look like you're going to pop a blood vessell.

Charming, Matt truly. You snark and he chuckles in your mind before his presence washes a feeling of seriousness over you.

What's wrong? He's insistent.

They're suspicious of us. Of why we were in the Come and Go room together.

How did they know about that?

That isn't important. You weren't stupid enough to give away one of Harry's best assets. What do I tell them without having to lie. I can't bare to lie again.

He's silent for a moment and you internally curse him as Harry and Hermione seem to be berating you, but you hear none of it, focusing on the pulsing of Mattheo's magic as he takes his sweet time to respond.

Tell them what you were doing. Say that you were annoyed by my avoidance; that it interrupted your schedule; that I was taking advantage of your time.

Harry was in the middle of a they-are-all-Death-Eaters spiel when you interrupted him to finally answer after what had only been a few moments.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Harry. I've been tutoring him since the start of the year. Which you both already knew." you send a look towards Hermione, who shrinks away. "He's been avoiding me all week – Rowena knows why – so I made Theo tell me where he was."

You stifled a laugh when Theo dropped his fork under the deathly glare that Mattheo sent his way.

Behave. You mentally slap him.

He smirked wickedly at you.

"He was probably doing his father's bidding." Harry spat.

"Maybe. But he needs a stellar Ancient Runes grade if he wants Theo to keep him on the Quidditch team. I'm doing Teddy a favour, nothing more." you reassure, and while it was only a half-lie, the guilt ate away at you all the same.

The pair seemed to sigh in tandem before Hermione turned to you, apology written all over her face. The guilt seemed to intensify.

"Just–" she paused, glancing over at the Slytherin table momentarily. "Just be careful will you? I don't want you to get hurt."

"I am being careful Mione, don't worry about me." you smile, but your pretty sure that, and judging by her unconvincing glance shared with your friend, she doesn't believe a word you say.

And after what happened in the Room that could grant you whatever you wished for, you weren't so believing in your resolve either.

~∞~

wasn't actually planning on writing smut this early but it kind of just happened lol this ones quite a long one, but i had a lot of things to add for the plot

sidenote; ive finally started reading acotar after its been on my tiktok fyp for time and low-key i see why i dnf'd the first time i tried reading it😭 but im speeding through it actually - im on like chapter 20 i think

taglist:

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed

#mattheo x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheoxreader #harry potter #hermione x reader #serendipity series

[tteokdoroki]

Hi! I’d like to enter the Bumble Swipe Right Event! Izuku as my fave, my ideal gift would be a card and jewelry, and i wanna swipe spicy!

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — IZUKU MIDORIYA. swipe spicy: decorated.

about. boom, it’s a match! izuku loves to see you decorated in all of the riches he can afford. he especially loves the anklet that he got you, and the way it dangles when he makes you see stars ( 0.8K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, characters aged up to 20s, established relationships, mating press, unprotected sex, orgasm control, pro hero deku, fem!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event ! ( closed )

izuku midoriya has always had an eye for jewellery, especially when it comes to you. 

whenever he returns from missions, the number one hero is always sure to bring back an item of jewellery to make up for lost time. whether it be a beaded pearl necklace from a seaside town that he’d saved, or diamond earrings from an embassy member abroad. izuku never came back empty handed — even if it meant he had to buy you something. he liked seeing you decorated in the fruits of his success as one of japan’s ( and the world’s ) top heroes.

it’s like his own personal marking, a sign of his belonging to you, and you to him. 

yet izuku could drape you in all the glitter and gold in the world and it still wouldn’t be enough to showcase how much he adores you. there aren’t enough riches in the world to spoil you with and… that’s okay. you seem perfectly content with what you have now, especially the anklet he’d gifted you for Valentine’s Day. the one with the little ‘I’ and ‘M’ charms you’d gotten with it. 

the one that dangles above your head when izuku passionately pounds into you after returning from a particularly stressful mission abroad. 

“g-god, i missed you s’much. missed this sweet little pussy. oh fuck!” forest green curls tickle at the underside of your chin from where izuku has nestled his head against your neck, his lips work shades of deep purples and midnight blue/ into the saltiness of your skin — teething and biting at its soft expanse until you’re decorated with a necklace of love bites. “you…oh angel…you get so tight when i fold you up like this,” he laments in satisfaction, feeling your sluice and sloppy sex ripple around his thick cock with every calculated thrust. “you must have really…really missed me.”

the pro hero uses the strength he’s built up over the ears to fuck into you properly — the force behind his hips sending you jolting up the bed. when he pulls away from the loving assault on your neck, a pinkish hue mingles with the galaxy of freckles dotted across deku’s face, cheeks pink from the exertion. his cockhead is in no better condition, bright red, angry and hot as it smears precum along your ravaged walls. 

“m-missed you s’much izu, please!” 

as a reward, he bullies you nice and open for him — heavy breeders balls clapping against the plush flesh of your ass so hard that your entire body shakes as a result. with all of izuku’s muscle and weight on top of you, you feel as though you can’t breathe — like he’s choking you out from the inside as he uses your creamy cunt to his hearts content. he keeps your knees pressed into your shoulders, ankles haphazardly thr

own over his broader ones which only spread you further. 

the anklet he’d given you shakes under your sinful ministrations, catching in the low light of your bedroom while deku makes love to you on sex soiled sheets. “you look so…pretty when i ruin you like this, have you spread open like this,” he whispers lovingly, contrasting with the harsh manner in which his thick dick pumps in and out of your slick heat. “and this, watching it sway from how hard i’m fucking you…angel, all of it drives me insane.” izuku’s nose nudges it’s way up your calf, plump pink lips teasingly making their way up to the golden anklet dangling from your foot. 

rhythmic thrusts soon because salacious grinds, izuku never relenting on how he deep he fucks into you. all you can do is lay there uselessly, taking cock, taking praise, taking love from midoriya as he puts his all into making you reach cloud nine. his thumb draws circles over your cute clit, his hooded evergreen eyes trained on the way your pussy pulsates and spurts little streams of juices around him. as though she’s laying her claim on his thick, shaft covered with spiralling blue veins.

opaque white paints izuku’s tummy, a crude mix of his precum and your sweet nectar smearing over his abdomen contracting as it contracts against your sex. “think i’m gonna cum,” you wail sweetly, keening into his touch as you look up at your pro hero boyfriend with big wet eyes. “please let me cum. please ‘zu, i’ll be good!”

izuku only tuts in response, kissing your ankle before he takes the chain of your anklet between the perfect rows of his pearly white teeth. 

“you’ll cum when i say so, angel.” the green haired hero drawls softly, yet condescendingly. he makes extra effort in showing off his award winning smile with the chain in his mouth in order  to distract you from the slight change in the way deku angles his hips — his bulbous and leaky cockhead never leaving your sticky g-spot. “and i’m far from done with you, tonight.” 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#deku x reader #deku smut #deku x you #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha thirst #mha smut #mha x reader #deku thirst #bnha x you #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha imagines #izuku midoriya smut #midoriya smut #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x you #deku imagine #bnha drabble #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #𐙚 bumble date & swipe right ! #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #✧ ₊˚🗯️੭ — messenger #so-you-like-kpop

[masuchu]

“𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄” [GENSHIN MEN]

what puppy traits do your genshin boyfriends have? ‧₊˚

genre. fluff!! so fluffy it hurts

characters. kaeya, zhongli, wriothesley

love, masu. guys this was originally meant to have so many more characters TwT then i just made it all of my bf’s ugh can you blame me 😞 lmk if you want a pt. 2 !!

(凯亚) 𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 ‧₊˚

We all know Kaeya has the attention span of a overexcited pup, so it’s not at all surprising that he ditches his paperwork and comes to bother you with licks, bites and love!

When you’re occupied, he pokes you for attention. When you’re mad, he nibbles on your neck to tame you. And when you’re being cute, he pounces on you and teases you about your adorable expressions.

Follows you around, but not like a lost puppy. No, more like a puppy on a mission. He has to be wherever you are, because how else is he going to entertain himself and bother you? Alone? Impossible!

He knows you love it, too. He’ll flirt with you and test your patience, saying in his delectable voice, “Oh, you hate me? Your heartbeat says otherwise~”

Lovestruck when you decide to return his irritating antics! Bite him back, fight fire with fire? Oh, his eyes burst out of their sockets! But beware, once he’s over his devoted haze, he doubles his teases. Triples, in some cases. What? You wouldn’t have fought back if you didn’t want to start a war!!

All in all, he really is a loveable little puppy. A hopelessly jarring one? Yes, but a loveable one all the same.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘:

“Hah! A puppy? Cute. However, I recall you mentioning last week just how much you love and adore puppies, am I wrong? Does that mean, perhaps, it is the same case for I? Ah, love, I’m truly flattered~”

(钟离) 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 ‧₊˚

A devoted puppy. Not so much a golden retriever, but more like a guide dog. Wants to assist you in all ways he can, admire you silently, and remain with you always.

He stays firmly, yet loosely at your side almost all the time. A hand gripped on your waist, the remnants of bites littered along your neck, his chin on your shoulder while you work.

How can he help it? He knows exactly what you need (at least he thinks he does), he must tend to you at all hours of the day. There have been countless occasions of him cancelling your appointments without permission, all for time with you.

It’s hard to resist him when his reasonings are so romantic! Sometimes you question wether he has some form of separation anxiety, but you have come to realise it is more of a separation dislike.

He aids you on what to buy at the market at Liyue Harbour, will not be offended when you choose something else. He will praise your taste in tea, and keep a loyal hand on your waist the entire walk home. 

He will tell you about the history of Liyue, how the age-old flowers resemble you. You smile. It sets him at ease. A tender pup, lives to make you happy.

A surprisingly clingy pup, too. Sometimes you wake up with arm weaved around your body like the finest linen, some days, his entire top half is pressed right onto your chest! His excuse is that he must have gotten cold in the night, but you know he adores holding you.

He is an irresistible puppy, it is hard to stay mad at him. His handsome face, his perfectly chosen words… ugh!

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘:

“Oh? I have never been compared to such an animal. I am… intrigued. Please, tell me what about me resembles the creature.”

(莱欧斯利) 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 ‧₊˚

Wriothesley swears that he is not a jealous, nor a particularly nervous or anxious lover. If so, why does he seem to inch closer to you and let out what seems to be a growl whenever a potential threat comes close you to you?

(What he deems to be a potential threat, anyways.)

He is such a cute, little guard dog! Hellbent on protecting you when it matters, and equally as persistent on keeping you all to himself when it is probably not that necessary!

He nibbles your skin on occasion, too. Gentle nips, flirtatious and teasing, and painstakingly canine! He does not shy away from admitting that he wants to mark you, either! Tells you plainly, and grins at your blush.

Having to spend almost all of his time at the Fortress of Meropide, it is often that a messenger is sent up above land to collect you under the pretences of ‘The Duke has a very important matter he would like to discuss with you.’ Yeah right.

You are met with the same cheeky grin when you waltz into his office; full of need, puppy-like excitement that he somehow manages to keep down, but slightly begging and desperate.

Like Zhongli, he is a tending puppy. He likes to watch your every, minuscule reaction to certain teas, his kisses, jokes he makes, etc. He makes countless mental notes, and always knows how to be a dutiful pup!

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘:

“A puppy, huh? I’ve been called many things, but that is certainly new for me. Though, I don’t hate the idea of being your guard dog, it gives me an excuse to have you with me at all times…”

2024 © masuchu , do not repost, reword, plagiarise, take inspiration, translate or share my work anywhere!

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ sincerely me ‹𝟹 #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #kaeya alberich #kaeya genshin impact #kaeya x reader #kaeya fluff #zhongli #zhongli genshin #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #wriothesley #wriothesley genshin impact #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff

[cardansriddle]

Sugar - (tom riddle x fem!muggle!reader)

Summary: Perhaps it was an accident. Or perhaps the fates were mocking him. He had not meant to venture into the little coffee shop and he had most definitely not meant to return. But he kept coming back and the waitress kept putting sugar packets near his coffee every damn time.

Warnings: Tom gets possessive halfway through so it's pretty tame for him. not proofread. oh also self-indulgent crime & punishment debate (got a lil carried away).

A/N: 5.5k words but it's kinda mehh. to the person who requested this, i hope you enjoy it at least a little <3

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Tom felt as if he was a solitary figure in a world hushed by the winter's harsh embrace. With each step he took away from the desolate building of grey against the pristine canvas of winter, he felt lighter. He did not cast a look back towards the orphanage looming behind him, instead focused on the sound of the snow crunching beneath his feet as they led him further into the dark street cloaked in a thick layer of snow.

The wizard knew if he spent another moment in that cursed place he would have lashed out and killed someone, so he had hastily thrown his coat and emerald scarf around himself before slamming the door shut behind him. 

Two more years. He thought to himself. Then he would be out and would never be obligated to return again. Perhaps he would even burn the place to the ground if his plans worked out in his favour. 

The air was crisp, and his breath materialized in front of him with each exhale. His eyes quickly scanned the narrow empty alley for a suitable quiet place where he could pass his time. There was nothing interesting, except for the tiny bookstore nestled in the corner of the street that emitted a warm, golden light through its window. Tom quickly decided it would do, and he strode towards the place with purpose. A small bell chimed as he entered the place, which he quickly realised was a bookstore with a cosy coffee shop tucked inside. 

He inhaled the pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the scent of weathered books. Before he could lose himself entirely in the intoxicating symphony of scents, a sudden, loud thud echoed from behind the counter, jolting him from his reverie.

"Blimey!" someone cursed, their voice slicing through the tranquillity. Tom found himself rooted to the spot, curiosity piqued, as a figure suddenly emerged from underneath the counter.

It was a girl. Unabashedly, his eyes traced the lines of her features, noting the delicate curve of her jaw and the cascade of hair that framed her face. He assumed she was around his age if not younger and he stared at the girl as she rubbed her head, wincing when she hit a particularly soft spot before she realised that she was not alone in the shop. She froze like a deer caught in the headlights and he watched as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. 

Tom, still an observer, saw more than just the blush; he discerned the subtleties of her response, the way her eyes momentarily widened before seeking refuge elsewhere, fingers fidgeting with the edges of her knitted cardigan.

She attempted to compose herself and met his eyes. "Oh! Sorry, sir. How may I assist you?" She asked cheerfully, resisting the urge to duck her head down to avoid his intense stare.

He crossed the small distance to the counter. "I'd like a coffee. Black."

"No sugar?" she inquired, to which Tom raised a single brow. Her blush deepened as she quickly averted her eyes from his face.

"Right, of course. You may take a seat while I prepare this for you." With a nod, she hurried to fulfil his request, leaving Tom alone with the lingering scent of coffee and old books that were now intertwined with a pleasant smell of vanilla and sweet— 

It was her perfume, he realised with a start.

He hastily removed his coat and scarf before plopping down on the nearest armchair. His gaze remained fixed on the girl, absorbed in the rhythm of her practised motions as she prepared his drink, her movements seemingly both effortless and comforting. There was an almost lazy grace to her actions and he continued to watch as she sang under her breath so softly if he had not been staring so intensely, he would not have picked up on it. 

He wondered how he had never noticed this place before. He had been passing through this little street for as long as he could remember but for some reason, he had only stumbled upon it today. His sharp eyes darted around, instinctively searching for traces of magic, half-expecting the discovery of a hidden passage to the wizarding world but he quickly realised the place was undeniably, disappointingly muggle. 

Muggle.

He tore his gaze away from the girl at the mental reminder of what she was. He fished out a book from his bag and opened it to occupy his mind. 

The subtle shuffle of her approaching steps drew his attention back to the present, and he met her gaze as she placed the steaming cup of coffee before him. A sugar packet sat innocently beside it. His eyes lingered on the packet for a moment before lifting coldly to meet hers.

She, however, was undeterred by the intensity of his glare. “In case you change your mind.” She smiled at him softly before turning on her heel and walking back.

His gaze lingered on her retreating figure, and then, almost involuntarily, it dropped to the innocuous sugar packet.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Tom did not know why he had returned. Truthfully, he had not even noticed his feet had led him here until he was in front of the familiar wooden door that led into the coffee shop. Perhaps he had thought more than he should’ve about the disgustingly soft smile of that girl for the last five months. She was an insolent muggle, yet here he was, walking into the place as if he had never left. 

The seasons had blurred since he had last been here. Winter had long surrendered to the warmth of summer. He had to spend at least a month in the orphanage, and he was hoping Malfoy would invite him over for the rest of the summer. 

The place was just as he remembered it. The only difference was the lack of Christmas decorations. He faltered only slightly when he took notice of the girl behind the counter, already staring at him. She had not changed much. Her face was the same, less pale perhaps, but the same, nonetheless. The oversized knitted sweater that once enveloped her had been replaced by a little white sundress, and his gaze involuntarily lingered on the exposed smooth skin.

“Welcome back!” She greeted him cheerfully, and he was not surprised she remembered him. “What can I get you?”

“Black coffee,” he replied curtly

She nodded as if she was expecting it. "Coming right up." Gently shutting her book, she gracefully moved towards the coffee machine. Tom's eyes couldn't help but trail to the volume she had been reading, and to his pleasant surprise, it was Dostoyevsky. He had not pegged her as someone who would enjoy Russian literature, with its weighty and morally morbid themes. In his mind, she seemed more likely to be a Jane Austen enthusiast, with her intricately written romances and flowery prose.

“It’s 'Crime and Punishment'." He suddenly heard her soft voice declare, and he looked away from the book to give his attention to the girl. Then feeling as if she had said something silly, she blushed and looked away quickly. "Though I'm sure you figured that. I just wondered why you look so surprised." 

He replied before he could tell himself not to. "I did not imagine you as someone who would enjoy this." 

Emboldened at his words, she turned to face him, a hand casually resting on her hip as she sported a cheeky smile. "Am I to presume you imagine me often?"

His sharp inhale was audible as he absorbed the unexpected shift in her demeanour. He had not expected this shy, timid girl to tease him so boldly. She was a little vixen.

But he did not give her the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of him. A lazy raise of his brow was the extent of his acknowledgement before his gaze wandered towards the rows of bookshelves, feigning indifference. "Do you have another copy? Perhaps I shall like to reread this evening."

She frowned, walking over towards the table he had occupied last time to set his coffee down. He grimly took notice of the sugar packet placed near it. "I'm afraid not. But you can have mine." 

"No, that is quite alri—" He began to decline but she had already crossed the small distance between them and was holding out the thick book. He hesitated for a moment before his fingers closed around the object, careful to avoid touching hers. 

The girl smiled and walked away before he could even say thanks. Not like he was going to. 

Settling back into the soft armchair, he opened the book only to freeze at the sight of a name scribbled on the front page and he knew it belonged to her. The wizard rolled the name around in his mind and determined that it suited her. He stared at her name for a minute longer before turning the page and delving into the content of the book. 

He had been so immersed in the story that he had not noticed how the time had passed. The gradual hush of the coffee shop's ambient sounds finally penetrated his concentration, and he distinctly heard the girl approaching him. 

"I'm sorry to disturb you but we're closing in five minutes." She looked at the book in his hands. "You may return it once you're done." 

He hummed and looked down at where he had stopped. 

"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken."

He wondered if the universe was trying to tell him something. 

Tom found himself caught in the silent narrative of this stranger's presence.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

He returned the next day.

She looked up to see him enter, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled up. 

Tom placed the book on the counter. 

"You finished it in one day?"

He shrugged. "I'm a fast reader." 

She gave him a small smile, turning to make his black coffee before he could ask for it. "Every time I reread it it takes me a few days." She paused for a moment, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "The usual?"

He nodded. "The usual." He debated whether or not to voice his next question, and decided one conversation with the girl would not hurt.

"Why do you read it so often?"

"Each time I find new details that make Raskolnikov's character more complex. Each time I discover these small little things I missed the last time I read it becomes so much better. Plus I enjoy his moral dilemma."

He hummed, his curiosity piqued. He took his usual seat and watched as she brought his coffee and set it down in front of him. "Enlighten me." He gestured towards the seat in front of him. She hesitated only for a second before taking a seat. 

"Raskolnikov is obviously a complex character. His actions are driven by a desire for power and superiority, a belief that he is exempt from conventional morality. However, one could argue that his internal struggles and eventual remorse suggest a more nuanced exploration of morality." 

Tom furrowed his brows. "I see him as a product of his environment, a desperate man driven to extremes by the harsh circumstances he faced. His morality shifts to the other side of the spectrum." 

She cocked her head to the side, and he could see her getting slightly frustrated. "But morality is not just a spectrum; it's a complex interplay of values, societal norms, and personal convictions. Raskolnikov's guilt stems from the clash between his actions and the intrinsic moral compass within him. It's the consequence of recognizing the weight of one's choices."

He scoffed before he could stop himself. "Morality is subjective. What is right for one may not be right for another. Raskolnikov was weak and he was an idiot. Guilt is a useless emotion and it is for the weak."

Her expression remained unwavering. "But perhaps it's that recognition of guilt that separates the morally discerning from those who lack empathy. The fact that you can't comprehend his guilt doesn't make it foolish. It makes it human."

Tom's eyes narrowed a glint of impatience in his gaze. "Human or not, guilt is a hindrance. It's a sentiment for those too feeble to rise above their actions. If I were to make a difficult choice, I would do it without hesitation, without remorse." 

He only realised the slip of his tongue after the words left his mouth. He stilled, gauging her reaction yet her response was measured but firm. "Raskolnikov's guilt is a testament to his humanity, his ability to grapple with the consequences of his choices. It's what sets him apart from those who operate without remorse." 

"But—"

"So what you're saying is you would kill and feel no remorse?" She cut him off.

Yes.

"You do not understand." He did not intend his tone to be so harsh, yet the words left his mouth coldly. She visibly withdrew and nodded stiffly. "Right. Enjoy your coffee."

He opened his mouth to say something but realised for the first time in his life he did not know what to say. 

He was left staring at the cursed sugar packet she had left near his coffee again.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

He did not return the next day. Nor the day after. Or after.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Two weeks passed with no sign of him.

And then she saw him step into the coffee shop. He walked in with determination. He walked up to the counter, meeting her gaze with an intensity that mirrored the unspoken tension between them. "I'd like a black coffee," he said, his tone even, though a hint of something lingered beneath the surface. 

She nodded, her expression composed but guarded. As she prepared the coffee, the air seemed charged with unspoken words. Her usual cheerful smile was notably absent. The absence struck him, and he realised he had enjoyed her smiles.

When she placed the coffee in front of him, there was a palpable pause. He glanced at the sugar packet, a subtle acknowledgement of the lingering disagreement. Without a word, he took it, his eyes meeting hers briefly before he poured the sugar into his coffee. 

She looked at him, her gaze unwavering, before a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her lips. 

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

He returned the next day. And the day after that. And for the rest of summer.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

The next time he stepped into the familiar place, winter had covered the city with a snowy blanket once again. It had been a year since he first discovered this little place. And he had not seen his little waiter since he left for Hogwarts in September. 

When he walked in, her eyes lit up visibly. "Hi!" She waved at him with a bright grin. 

"Hello." He greeted as he unwrapped his scarf and settled in his usual seat. In a matter of minutes, she was bringing him his usual order. She was back to wearing her warm knitted sweaters. "How did you enjoy the book?"

"Oscar Wilde never disappoints," he said. She hummed in agreement, pleased at his words. He watched as her hands dropped to fidget with the bottom of her sweater. "You wish to ask me something." He stated. "Ask."

"Do you study in a boarding school?"

Tom hesitated only for a moment before replying. "Yes."

"Oh. Well, that explains the months of not showing up."

"Were you expecting me?" He teased her with an amused smirk, taking delight in the way her cheeks reddened. 

"I was just wondering that is all," she admitted, a hint of curiosity peeking through. Tom observed her, noting the return of the timid, shy girl from their first encounter. It amused him how a few teasing remarks could momentarily whisk away her fiery boldness. He couldn't help but wonder what it would take to awaken it once again.

"And do you wonder about me often, little vixen?" he added, a playful glint in his eyes.

She blushed harder at the nickname but then as if a thought had struck her, she straightened and Tom watched as she visibly mustered up her courage. "I actually was wondering your name."

He bristled, but she must have not noticed because she continued. "I suppose I have not given you mine either." She mused out loud and announced her name to him. "But I thought it bizarre that considering all the time we've talked we never got around to that. Friends who do not each other's names." The girl laughed at the last notion and only then she realised that Tom had remained unnervingly quiet throughout the exchange. She raised her eyes from the frayed edges of her sweater, and the sight almost made her take a step back. His eyes had darkened, and she could have sworn she saw them flash red. There was no warmth, no familiarity in his gaze. 

"Are you alright?"

Suddenly, he rose from his seat, an ominous tension permeating the air as he advanced towards her with every word. "We are not friends. You dare to think I would be friends with the likes of you?" His words were sharper than the keenest of blades, cutting into her with merciless precision. "Foolish, little girl," He spat out before grabbing his things and storming out of the place. As the door closed behind him, the little coffee shop seemed to exhale, the echoes of his harsh words lingering in the hushed aftermath.

She stood frozen in her place, helpless against the storm of emotions and the tears that began to veil her vision. 

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Tom fumed for months after their last encounter. How dare the ignorant muggle insinuate that they were friends? He scarcely considered his Knights of Walpurgis as his friends, and she thought she would just appoint herself the title? Who did she think she was?

"Mate, you alright? You've been unresponsive for a while." Malfoy nudged him slightly, attempting to draw his attention back to the present.

Tom made a noise of acknowledgement before mentally shaking the image of his little waiter— no, not his, he berated himself— from his mind. 

But no matter how he tried, he could not. He could not just banish her from his thoughts. He knew a part of him, a rather embarrassingly large part of him enjoyed her company, her passion, her conversations— just her. 

And there, tucked away in the recesses of his trunk, lay her damned book— a taunting reminder of her. The temptation to burn it, to obliterate any remnants of her from his life, danced on the edge of his thoughts. He had shoved away, out of sight if only just to save himself the fury, the anger, (the longing).

He wondered if she was going through the same turmoil as him. He hoped she was. She had no right to make him feel this way and get away with it unscathed. 

But she was too enticing to give up. He did not know what it was about her. She was a muggle, an ordinary, plain girl working at a forgotten little cafe. Sure, she liked books, but so did a lot of other people. Yes, she was pretty, but so were a lot of other girls. But none could even come close to stirring his emotions as she did.

Perhaps it was the ease with which she conversed with him. Or the entirely too cheery smiles. Or her endearing knitted sweaters— though he secretly favoured the sundresses.

He, of course, knew what it was. He had tried to deny the idea to himself, but there was no escaping it. Tom had never been able to be unequivocally authentic with another individual before. From his early childhood, he refused to allow anyone close to him. He never lowered his walls and rejected anything that would yield a genuine connection. It was refreshing with her. He had no cause to uphold a curated facade.

Had she not been a muggle, he would entertain the thought of her bewitching him. He would have been convinced the girl put some spell on him or slipped a potion into his drink. 

It was maddening. 

She was maddening.

He sighed upon realising that he had spiralled again thinking of her. He needed to return the book, and maybe that would ease his mind. Perhaps once he was rid of her possession, she would not haunt him anymore. (Though he knew he was only trying to reassure himself with the last thought.)

As summer loomed around the corner, it felt both too distant and too imminent, mirroring the paradox of his tangled emotions.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

The sound of her laugh rang out before he could even close the door behind him. His head snapped up so fast it was a wonder he did not get whiplash. But there she was, his little waiter, chuckling delightfully as some boy spoke lowly from behind the counter. Chuckles escaped her lips, and she bit down on her lip in a futile attempt to stifle the laughter, her hands deftly at work preparing a drink. Despite her efforts, laughter bubbled forth once more, forcing her to set the cup down to avoid any potential spills.

An immediate surge of anger coursed through him. Who was this boy? What business did have with her? What right did he have to elicit such genuine laughter from her? (Most importantly, how dare she replace him?)

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat, attempting to gather himself into some semblance of a composed, unaffected man that he most definitely was not at that moment. With a loud, purposeful cough, he sought to catch her attention.

She spun around, the practised smile reserved for customers settling onto her face as she readied herself to serve him. However, the smile swiftly vanished the moment her doe-like eyes locked onto him. She looked like a deer caught in headlights as she stared at him, wide eyes roving over his face as if to confirm that he was really standing there, in front of her, and was not a figment of her imagination. 

Because despite their last encounter, despite the anger, and the hurt she had felt, she kept hoping he would return. She kept imagining him standing there, with his ridiculously fancy scarf as he spewed out an apology. She had delved so deep into her fantasies involving him that now that he was actually there, she did not what to do or to say. Her tongue was tied, and her brain was fogged. What was she supposed to say?

It seemed he decided to grant her mercy and be the first to break the tense silence.

“Hello.” 

“Hi.”

He shuffled closer, though his steps were unsure, unlike his usual confident strides that she was used to seeing. “I wished to return your book.” He declared yet made no move to reach into his bag for the said book. He allowed his eyes to drink in the sight of her, her eyes that always seemed to glisten, her hands that were always fidgeting, her little sundress that he was afraid would drive him to insanity, (and her lips that he wished he could press against his own just so he could find out what they felt like, tasted like.) He shoved the last one into a drawer in his mind and locked it away. He could not fantasise about her. She was a muggle. He could not stoop so low as to hold affections for a muggle girl.

“Did you enjoy it?” The girl asked tentatively as if afraid one wrong word would set him off, have him spitting more harsh words that would dig deep into her skin and remain there. 

“As always.” He replied. Because every book she gave him held another meaning. She was a clever girl, choosing the ones that she knew would have him coming back with a strong debate prepared in his mind. They always seemed to stand on opposite sides of every argument that the books posed, ensuring that their discussion would get heated, exciting, and thrilling. 

While Tom vehemently disagreed with her views, he found pleasure in the way her mind worked. He admired her quick-wittedness, her ability to counter every argument he posed. No one else had engaged him in such stimulating conversations. She was a breath of fresh air, a captivating force he wanted to inhale and never release. He yearned to suffocate in the essence of her being, to be consumed and to consume in return. He wanted to own her— that irrational desire to keep her for himself was always there in the deeper parts of his mind that he was scared to venture into.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She responded but he could detect the subtle undercurrent of uncertainty in her voice.

He hesitated. “May I have one black coffee?” He was extending an olive branch, and while it was not an outright apology, coming from Tom, it was a whole declaration. 

“It’s five minutes until closing time.” 

She would not be swayed so easily then. 

Fine. Tom thought. He would make her come to her senses. 

The boy who he had forgotten was still there suddenly came to stand next to him. Tom eyed him with disdain, his features curling into an unimpressed sneer, raising a lazy brow.

“I’ll help her close up, mate. You can leave now.” 

“Daniel, that is not necessary.” She muttered, glancing between the two men nervously. Daniel? Tom clenched his jaw, enraged. In his absence, it seemed she had gotten on first-name basis with a boy. His mouth soured with the taste of betrayal at her blatant ignorance. How could she discard him so easily? Had she not suffered all these months at the mere thought of him? Had he been alone in his suffering?

“No,” Tom stated flatly. “You will leave.” He told the boy then turned to face his waiter. “We will talk.” 

“Tom, I do not think—”

He cut her off with a hiss. “It was not a request.”

Daniel seemed wholly displeased. He opened his mouth to argue, but his girl beat him to it. “It’s okay, Daniel. I will see you some other time.”

“Whatever he has to tell you, surely he can say in front of me.”

She shook her head gently, trying to dissuade him. “It’s a matter between him and I. I would rather talk privately.” 

Tom looked smug as he faced Daniel again, struggling to contain his smirk. He could see the indignation clear on the boy’s face as his eyes flickered dubiously between her and Tom. He knew the wizard was no ordinary acquaintance of her, he could feel the palpable tension in the air like a wolf. 

Tom, of course, wished to push his buttons further, just to have the last word. “You heard her. Leave.” 

Daniel scoffed. “I will see you tomorrow then.” He muttered and with one last long look, he squared his shoulders and left the café with as much dignity as his wounded pride could muster. 

As the door shut with a final thud, they were left in pregnant silence, both unsure of the dynamics at play between them. The air in the café hung heavy with unspoken tension as if the silence itself had taken on a weight, pressing down on them both. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed louder than usual, each second echoing in the quiet space.

She was the first to cave. "Well? You wished to talk." Gesturing towards him with a hand expectantly. "Talk." 

Tom inhaled sharply, and for the first time in his life, he did not quite know what to say. How to proceed. 

"Who is he?" The question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. 

She raised a brow. "Seriously? After how you walked out of here last time I would think your choice of words would be different."

"Different? I hardly think the question was unfair."

She huffed impatiently, discarding her apron as she turned from him to put everything away for the night. "Of course. How foolish of me to assume that you have no business inquiring about my life when we are not even friends." She chuckled bitterly. "You made the notion quite appalling if memory serves me right. You wish to know who is Daniel? For all you know, he could be my fiancee. Would it matter? No. Because you and I are hardly acquaintances." 

An unfamiliar feeling began coiling in the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly felt sick. She briefly turned to fix him with a pointed glare and froze at the look on his face. The dancing flames of the candles seemed to mirror the flickering emotions in Tom's eyes—flames of irritation, discontent, and an unexpected pang of jealousy.

Tom could scarcely believe his fate. How was it that he— the most powerful wizard of his generation— had succumbed to the pathetic disease of— what was it? Desire? Lust? Infatuation? Such mundane urges were beneath him, he had no wish to pursue anyone or anything that was not remotely related to his quest for power. Yet there she was. In her infuriating fucking dress and those innocent eyes. Did she even know what sort of turmoil she had caused him?

All of a sudden he felt exhausted, defeated. His shoulders sunk visibly as he ran a hand through his hair. He would use a hundred of her sugar packets in his coffee if it meant she would just grace him with her bubbly smile again and just— just what? Leave him be? He did not want that. Treat him as if nothing had happened? Maybe. Release him from whatever enchantment she put him under? Yes.

"What do you want from me?" He asked at last, frustration clear in his voice.

She regarded him with disbelief as she rounded the counter to stand directly in front of him. "What do I want from you?" She repeated incredulously. "I want an apology! I want an explanation! I want—" she sighed, cutting herself off before she could finish the thought. "You cannot just show up here demanding things and ordering people around after how you treated me last time. If you wish to continue this conversation, you will apologise to me."

"You want me to say sorry?" He took a step towards her.

"Yes!"

"Fuck your apology." 

Before she could register what was happening, Tom closed the minute distance between them and caved into his desire. He grabbed her face, fingers threading through her hair, and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was not gentle; it was a collision of pent-up tension and bottled-up desires.

Tom's lips moved fervently against hers, pouring his frustration into the act. It was a silent declaration that transcended the boundaries of his complicated inner turmoil. Tom knew that. But he could not pull away from her— not after having tasted how her lips feel like. 

Her hands, which had hovered hesitantly in the space between them, found their way to his shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric of his coat, pulling him closer. 

She felt—tasted like God's favourite nectar, sweet and addictive and he knew he would never get enough of it. She might not have been a witch, but he was bewitched by her. 

As they broke apart, breathless, the air between them hung heavy with the residue of their shared kiss. He dared not to ease his hold on her, only stared at her with darkened eyes, taking delight in the way her lips were bruised, and puffy, all because of him. But it was not enough. He needed to mark her for all to see. 

He dove into the tender skin of her throat like a man starved, teeth sinking into her flesh with no warning, and a sick sort of satisfaction washed over him at the muffled moan that escaped her mouth. He sucked on the skin until he was sure there would be a purple mark blooming on the spot before running his tongue over the flesh to soothe the sting. He did not waste any second before moving to mark another spot.

"I do not even know your name." She managed to choke out in between her whimpers, hands moving of their own accord to tangle in his hair, and a particular tug had him growling deep in his throat. 

"Tom." He whispered, pulling away from her neck only to return his lips to hers. "Say it. Say my name." He murmured in between the kisses, pushing her back until her back was pressed against the counter. He easily picked her up to place her on the surface, his fingers trailing along her thighs to her knees to nudge them apart so he could stand in between them. 

"Tom." She breathed out in a daze, and he smirked in delight. 

She was his. He had already branded her, and he would do much more to ensure she knew it was him she belonged to. 

He leaned to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. "I hope you know there is no going back from this. From me." He whispered, fingers slipping under the strap of her dress and dragging it down her shoulder slowly. "You are my dirty little secret now. Mine."

She shuddered under the weight of his words but he was already snaking his hand around her throat as his lips found home on her own once again.

No going back.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

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#tom riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fic #tom riddle x muggle!reader #tom riddle x fem!reader #tom riddle x you

[justblades]

⌕ SEIZED, 18+

⟢ CHARACTER : luocha x afab! reader WC : 1.8k

⟢ WARNINGS : (EX)PLICIT, MDNI. lactation, breeding, netorare, d!ck deprived & d!ck drunk! reader

⟢ SUMMARY : an appointed family doctor visits a widowed mother to check up on her health, but it appears fate had other plans instead.

the incessant pelting rain continuously clatter against your home's rooftop, pitter pattering sounds ironically accompany the loneliness murking your heart. it has been a long week of just trying to get by with no hints where to continue next. without your husband, it's as if your pillar of support crumbled into smithereens, nothing but dusts of what were once a life being.

naturally, your peers and family come into the scene to help soothe your grieving soul, but as much as you hate to admit it, no words of theirs relieved the lingering sadness. feigning healing has been a routine so you don't worry your relatives too much— but then a surprising knock on the door veer your train of thoughts off course.

you check from the cameras to see who's the visitor and as you saw those familiar blond strands tied in a neat low ponytail and the foreign designed clothing, you swing the door open and give a greeting. "good evening, doctor. come in." he bows lightly, "pardon the intrusion."

with enough small talk while you lead the doctor to the vast living room of your own home, you bid your farewell for a moment to fetch some drinks, a kind gesture of welcoming your guest. "might i ask how's your girl? is she well?" the doctor queries kindly, viridescent hues flutter in curiosity. "yes, she's asleep actually. it's a little . . saddening to realize my husband never got to see our girl past 6 months." you reply, setting the tray on the long glossed table.

"my sincerest condolences. if ever you would like to seek help from a professional, i can name a few and refer you to them." his honeyed words felt rather wholesome. for some reason, being with someone you're not that particularly well acquainted with is refreshing. you've met with luocha several times from your husband's health check ups whenever you accompany him, so it's safe to assume luocha took up the role to be your family's doctor; after all, your husband is the type to entrust a reliable individual to support his wife.

luocha takes out his equipments so he can administer his check up regarding your physical health, bringing out his stethoscope and the familiar golden necklace laced around his gloved fingers. he proceeds with the usual basics, a question sparking one after another as a way to not bore his patient. "how are you faring nowadays?"

"honestly speaking, things are really bad." he nods, gesturing for you to continue. "i can't help but yearn for crumbs of intimacy sometimes." you chuckle at the end, coverig a light hand on your mouth. "from your husband exactly? or—" your gaze shifts to luocha's face, addled at the far fetched inquiry of his.

"—my apologies. that was below the belt." the blond male cuts himself off and an apologetic smile sits on his lips. however you dismiss it, "no no, don't worry about it. if anything, it feels nice to be accompanied once in a while. i can't open up my feelings to others given that i might cause them trouble," you pause, heaving a blue sigh and continue, "i doubt this will weigh you down, doctor. especially when you're in the medical field."

the vicinity then falls silent for a short while and your eyes gaze elsewhere, reminiscing the olden moments you were being showered with affection from a loved one. a gut feeling suddenly persuades you to look back at luocha; when you do so, the smile sculpted on his lips persists. his usual expressions were never eerie, but this time, for some reason . . it feels different from the usual. "it's a shame you're widowed at such a young age miss."

your eyes widen, heart beat racing against the hundreds of thoughts flaring up in your mind. "i don't know what you're hinting at, doctor." he closes in the remaining distances between the both of your bodies. you remain there sat on the wooden chair while the blond stands up and lowers himself just enough for your piercing, heating gazes to meet. "there is no need to bluff. it's okay." his voice deepens, jade hues reflecting a crystalline clear view of your curious expression.

as if the strings of your life become woven in a fruitful future once again, your sultry lips press against luocha's. getting a feel of his soft margins sends shockwaves of pleasure and longing in your system; you couldn't restrain yourself, restraint is not your forte. the kiss eventually transitions into a deeper one, tongues coming into the scene, tangling with each other's in sync.

luocha's eyes are shut, his breathing becomes sharp and ragged. it was clear cut that he's savoring your liquids, gloved hands now exploring your body. "miss, it was . . . supposed to be a lighthearted joke." he says in between the sloppy kisses, struggling to keep up with your fast rhythm. "drop the formalities, luocha." you retort, your stomach fluttering for more action.

it was his first time being referred to by his nickname from a favorite patient— fueling his carnal desire even more that it's impossible to extinguish its fervor flames at this point. luocha's hands quickly cup your clothed chest - his long fingers lightly dig on the plush of your tits, your breath hitches and the kiss finally ends, connecting your lips to luocha's with a naughty singular trail.

he skillfully rips the fabric apart, conferring him a full open view of your voluptuous tits— given that you're still breastfeeding. luocha's bulge underneath twitches, he bites his lips in impatience, a foreign feeling he has a hard time encountering. you let out a chuckle and take the initiative by pushing him back to his seat and straddle his lap, facing the doctor.

naturally, he's surprised, but you did not waste any more time by combing his lush flaxen hair with your hand and drag him to your boobs, perfectly aligning his mouth to your soft buds. a soft moan slips out once you got a feel of his tongue suckling on your nipple, "mhm, i never would've guessed you'd be into this as well."

the doctor doesn't reply but proceeds to toy with the other one, squeezing your flesh in an attempt to milk you dry - evident from how hard he's lapping your boobs up. your folds start to seep out of arousal from the lewd movements and you get a feel of luocha's erect crotch; you buck your hips to accumulate friction from the heating body part all the while urging luocha to drink more of your juices. in contrary to his gentlemanly, chivalrous nature, he's surprisingly greedy and rough as to how he nibbles on your hardened bud.

"h-how do i taste?" you skittishly ask and luocha pauses. "compelling." a mere singular word throws your mind in a daze, body tingling everytime luocha's feathery touches brush on your skin. "a flavor that's addictive, making me want to procreate with you so your supply wouldn't run out."

heat and blood rush all the way up to your cheeks, sexual passion brews in the depths of your lower abdomen. "i'll stand up as the father— we can be together . . ." he whispers to your ear, his hot breathe caressing your bare skin. your next move was more predictable: luocha watches with his predatory-like eyes while you strip yourself in front of him, legs farthest apart, muddy white beads trickling away from your lower lips.

your fingers spread your folds open, an immensely erotic view that will inevitably be etched in the male's mind for the longest time. "this is all yours." the corners of luocha's lips tug upwards as he removes his onyx glove with his teeth, proceeding to set it on the tabletop beside your vulnerable state. he resumes and brings his cock into full view for your eyes as well, stroking his girth until it stands tall and glorious. "you're surprisingly . . packing."

you were taken aback as he lifts your body up along with your left leg, draping it on his forearm while he teases his tip adjacent to your entrance. it happened too fast as if it occured in 20 machs speed, now rocking your hips, begging for him. "did you ever imagine this whenever you accompany your husband with his check ups?"

now that he mentioned it, you were left wondering. since when did you ever fantasize about your husband's doctor, much so that your façade as a goody two shoes wife immediately breaks down with the littlest, puny attempts?

just as when you were about to respond, he thrusts into your wet cunt, his girth filling all the remaining space inside your velvet walls. luocha's guttural moan erupts from his throat, gratification pooling inside him the more you clenched around his throbbing dick. you were tight, very tight that the doctor feels himself cum on the spot.

if it weren't for him pulling out from your slit, he'll have to instantly bury his seed of climax deep. "ah— luocha . . !" you yelp once he pistons in again, this time, his cock's tip kisses the surface of your cervix. ". . honestly. . y . . yes." you admit, embarrassment gnawing at your bones, words cut off everytime luocha pounces into your lewd hole.

his breathing becomes even more jagged, beads of sweat rivulet from his forehead, "i'm very close . ." your knees were about to give in as well, all the left strength in your body vanishing. "m-me too!" with another shared sloppy kiss in between the intercourse unraveling from both of your heated, lust brewed bodies, luocha pounds into your pussy swiftly, emitting squelching sounds both from his cock and the constant sucking and licking of your lips.

"hah . . please . . make sure you'll knock me up!" desperation heavily hints your words, enough to cater to luocha's preferences that were obvious the more time you got to spend with him. you figured it all out, how he likes your lactating tits, how he goes berserk just to procreate with you. although it all seemed a little too quick— perhaps this is how the higher entities planned it.

with one last balls deep thrust, all of his cum pool inside you, filling you to the brim. your melting moans of pleasure mesh along with luocha's, both satisfied from everything that transpired. luocha supports your trembling body with his figure and grabs ahold of your hand, bringing it closer to his saliva glossed lips. he places a chaste kiss on the back, leaving yet another ephemeral chill, running along your spine up and down.

"i'll take good care of you . . . your girl . . . and our soon to be baby. our newly built family."

my masterlist !

#luocha #luocha smut #luocha x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr x reader #hsr x reader smut #honkai star rail x reader smut #honkai star rail luocha

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Examining SVSSS Canon: 2/∞

THE PRE-CANON TIMELINE

This post will attempt to provide an answer to several questions, including the ages of some of the current peak lords, as well as a rough timeline of events in the extras relative to the current day. A simple, bullet-point timeline will be at the end of this post, with relevant quotes and analysis above.

The timeline of SVSSS isn't particularly easy to piece together, and many fans are unsure of things such as the ages of certain characters, or how long the current generation of peak lords has been in power. As a matter of fact, it seems like even Airplane himself doesn't have a set timeline in mind for the events of PIDW pre-LBH:

“Your ages?” To tell the truth, Shen Qingqiu didn’t really know the precise age of this body. He raised his head at Shang Qinghua. “Wouldn’t you know better than I do?” Shang Qinghua twirled the brush in his hand. He’d never thought about this question either, so he figured he might as well just say whatever. Therefore he randomly wrote a number down in a couple of strokes. (7 Seas, Ch. 31)

It would be easy enough to take this quote and call the timeline a mystery-- however, there are a surprising amount of clues in the text, enough to at least put together a decent idea of when things happened and how old certain characters are, depending on which theories and interpretations one ascribes to.

There are two particular facts which are our most important hints as to the pre-LBH timeline, upon which this entire analysis hinges.

First, we have the spacing of the Immortal Alliance Conferences:

After much difficulty, Luo Binghe managed to turn seventeen, at which point he finally participated in the event the cultivation world held once every four years: the Immortal Alliance Conference. (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

And next, we have the length of time since Shen Qingqiu began to cultivate:

Before, Shen Qingqiu had thought that this body’s qualifications were already incredible, to have formed a core in only ten or so years when he’d begun cultivation so late.  (7 Seas, Ch. 19)

Notably here, what is translated as "ten or so years" is 十几年， which is more accurately "ten and a few years." This means that at the time Shen Qingqiu formed a golden core, he had been at Cang Qiong Mountain for around 10-15 years, but likely no longer or shorter than that.

This tells us quite a bit already-- because we know that Shen Qingqiu only reached core formation after becoming peak lord, as well as after Luo Binghe had already become a disciple:

Luo Binghe was using the incorrect cultivation manual that Shen Qingqiu had handed him; he should have long since died bleeding from the seven apertures, his body rupturing down to his bones, skin, meridians, tendons, and flesh... Shen Qingqiu was filled with paranoia; he forever felt like everyone was secretly talking behind his back, discussing how he’d been unable to attain Core Formation even after this long.  (7 Seas, Ch. 24)

So this tells us that it could not have been any longer than around 15 years between Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe joining Cang Qiong Mountain, and was likely at least a few years less than that because it has already been awhile since Luo Binghe was given the fake manual, which likely occured shortly after he arrived, and Shen Qingqiu reaches core formation at some point after this scene.

This means that the Qing generation's ascenscion likely occured no more than ten years after Shen Qingqiu joined the sect-- putting the ages for Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan respectively at roughly twenty-six and twenty-nine when they became peak lords.

The timeline can be clarified further and expanded, however, due to the spacing of the IAC. We know that the IAC occured when Luo Binghe was seventeen, and that it occurs every four years-- meaning that there would have been IAC taking place also when he was thirteen, nine, five, one, and three years before he was born.

However, we also know that it had not actually been fourteen years since Luo Binghe's birth at the start of SVSSS.

In the translation, Luo Binghe says the following when Shen Qingqiu asks his age:

“This disciple is fourteen,” Luo Binghe obediently replied. (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

However, the original says:

洛冰河乖巧地道：“弟子虚岁十四。”

"虚岁" here would be better translated as "nominal age." In ancient times, a child was one year old on the day of their birth, and aged up by one year with each new year-- so if a child was born the day before the new year, then at two days old he would already be counted as two years old. Sometimes, this would be counted on the spring festival new year, but other times it would be counted on the winter solstice.

As for Luo Binghe's precise chronological age, that is up for some determination. We know roughly the time of year he was born:

Immediately after birth, Luo Binghe was abandoned by his parents, swaddled in white cloth, and put in a wooden basin that was lowered into the Luo River. This occurred on the coldest days of the year... (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

The "coldest days of the year" here is 数九寒天, which refers to the nine periods of nine days each following the winter solstice. The winter solstice typically occurs on December 20-21, meaning that Luo Binghe's birth date is somewhere between December 20-March 12. If nominal age is being counted by winter solstice in this world, then that makes him chronologically thirteen at the start of SVSSS, but if it is calculated by the spring festival, then he is chronologically either twelve or thirteen at the start of SVSSS, as the Chinese new year can fall anywhere between January 21 - February 21, meaning that LBH could have been born either before or after this time.

So, let's just say that LBH's chronological age, for the purposes here, is thirteen, and then adjust our IAC timeline as follows：

There was one when he was chronologically sixteen, twelve, eight, four, the year he was born, and four years before he was born.

Now, how does this help us determine a timeline?

Well, we have the following statement:

Yue Qingyuan’s knuckles slowly brushed along Xuan Su’s hilt. “I was able to meet Senior Su Xiyan once at an Immortal Alliance Conference, many years ago." (7 Seas, Ch. 18)

Because we know that Su Xiyan died when Luo Binghe was born, we know that this meeting could not have occured at any conferences after his birth. It also would be unlikely that they met the same year Luo Binghe was born, as Su Xiyan would likely already be dead at that point if LBH was born after the new year. So, the latest that Yue Qingyuan could have met Su Xiyan would be twenty years before Luo Binghe was thrown into the Abyss.

We now combine this with the earlier discussion of the ages of Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan, and here I will note the following:

Yue Qingyuan slowly said, “At age fifteen, I entered Qiong Ding Peak." (7 Seas, Ch. 21)

This puts Yue Qingyuan roughly three years older than Shen Jiu:

“When [Shen Jiu] was twelve years old, he was but a slave my family had purchased from traveling child traffickers. " (7 Seas, Ch. 6)

Shen Jiu joined Cang Qiong Mountain at sixteen:

Liu Qingge didn’t even grace him with a sideways glance. “But certainly more success than a nobody who only began proper cultivation at age sixteen.” (7 Seas, Ch. 19)

This happened most likely directly after reuniting with Yue Qingyuan at an Immortal Alliance Conference. This puts Yue Qingyuan's age at nineteen during that conference, at which point he is head disciple, and has already gained some fame. However, this reunion has to occur before Luo Binghe's birth, Su Xiyan's death, and Tianlang-jun's defeat. This is because at this point, Yue Qingyuan has only been in Cang Qiong Mountain for four years-- thus, this particular conference is almost certainly the first one he has taken part in, and likely the first one he has attended at all, since a brand-new disciple in early stages of training most likely wouldn't have gone, therefore if Tianlang-jun had already been sealed by this point, Yue Qingyuan would not have had the chance to meet Su Xiyan.

So, the latest Shen Qingqiu could have joined Cang Qiong Mountain, at age 16, is twenty years before the Abyss, which would put him at age thirty-six at the youngest at that time.

Now, what about additional conference cycles?

It's possible that the conference in which Yue Qingyuan met Su Xiyan and/or after which Shen Qingqiu joined CQM may have been the one before this-- but that would also add four additional years to the time SQQ had been cultivating.

The earliest that Luo Binghe could have joined CQM would be when he was a little over ten years old, as that is when his mother dies:

On the bed lay a haggard old woman. With great effort, she tried to prop herself up, but from beginning to end, she was unable to do so. A small figure rushed in from outside. A tender-faced Luo Binghe, only a little over ten years old, supported the woman. Around his neck hung that jade pendant. (7 Seas, Ch. 3)

Shen Qingqiu had not reached core formation when Luo Binghe joined the sect. This means that if the IAC where SQQ joined the sect was four years before Luo Binghe's birth, then by the time Luo Binghe joins the sect it has been about fourteen to fifteen years since SQQ began cultivating.

Adding an additional four years would bump that to eighteen to nineteen years, which exceeds the "ten and some" years that SQQ took to reach core formation.

In my opinion, this also tells me that LBH joined CQM when he was absolutely no older than ten or eleven, and likely went to join immediately after his mother's death, because pushing LBH's join date later would also stretch the timeline of SQQ's cultivation. Now, this part does not specify whether the ten years old is nominal age or chronological age-- but because LBH's age of seventeen at the conference is referenced to his nominal age of fourteen, with a distance between of three years, then I am considering all age-numbers to be nominal age rather than chronological. This only really matters in regards to Luo Binghe for this analysis, though, as his birth year is the only one which has bearing on the timeline in regards to Su Xiyan's status.

With all of this information, we can determine with good confidence that the conference in which Yue Qingyuan met Su Xiyan was the same conference during which he reunited with Shen Qingqiu, which occured four years before Luo Binghe was born and twenty years before the Endless Abyss.

So because of this, we actually do have a relatively precise timeline of characters' ages, as well as events in the cultivation world.

This short timeline is also supported by the fact that Ming Fan is the most senior of Shen Qingqiu's disciples, and he is only sixteen, about 2-3 years older than Luo Binghe:

A youth around sixteen years old, tall and thin, promptly ran in through the door. “This disciple is here. What instructions does Shifu have?” (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

Had the Qing generation ascended too many years prior to Luo Binghe's joining the sect, it would be strange that the most senior disciple of Shen Qingqiu's was only sixteen, as in xianxia a disciple typically will not "graduate" at a certain age or cultivation stage, meaning that older disciples will maintain their role well into adulthood.

As for the rest of the peak lords, we have little to no information regarding the ages of Wei Qingwei, Qi Qingqi, or Mu Qingfang. However, we do know that Liu Qingge is quite young, and joined the sect both at an optimal age and a significant length of time before Shen Qingqiu:

At this point, Liu Qingge’s formal ascension to Bai Zhan Peak Lord, too, had likely only happened a couple years ago. There was a visible air of immaturity about his features, his gaze fierce and sharp, and within his every action was a young man’s spirited vigor. (7 Seas, Ch. 19)

and

Therefore, even though he’d entered the sect quite some time after Liu Qingge, because Qing Jing Peak was ranked second—only below Qiong Ding Peak—while Bai Zhan Peak was ranked seventh, Liu Qingge still had to address Shen Qingqiu as “Shixiong,” if through gritted teeth. (7 Seas, Ch. 24)

So, Liu Qingge is likely a year or two younger than Shen Qingqiu, but not by too much, since they still behave very much like contemporaries as teenagers-- let's say that Liu Qingge is likely around 14-15 when Shen Qingqiu joins the sect at age 16.

The other peak lord we know a bit about the age of is Shang Qinghua:

The older-than-average outer disciple Shang Qinghua, who currently occupied a seventeen-year-old body, looked around in all directions as he trailed behind the main team, who were unloading goods from the ship onto the docks. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

He is seventeen here, and an outer disciple of An Ding Peak. We can place this a bit more definitively on the timeline by the fact that Shen Qingqiu is already a head disciple at this point in time:

“What I don’t know is how Shen Qingqiu got chosen as head disciple after starting cultivation so late,” said another outer disciple who’d joined Cang Qiong Mountain at an older age, his expression sour. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Unfortunately, we cannot place the exact point in time where Shen Qingqiu became head disciple-- one possibility is that it couldn't have happened until after Tianlang-jun's defeat, which occured about four years after he joined the sect, since he did not participate in the battle. But that is a weak argument, since none of the current generation besides Yue Qingyuan participated in that battle:

Of the current peak lords, only Yue Qingyuan had participated in that battle, as the head disciple of Qiong Ding Peak. (7 Seas, Ch. 17)

If using this argument, then that would mean that aside from Yue Qingyuan, none of the other peak lords had been chosen as head disciples at that time-- while that is a possibility, I think that a more feasible explanation would be that Yue Qingyuan was an exception, and participated in the battle specifically because of his wielding Xuan Su.

One thing we can extrapolate, however, is that Shang Qinghua was most likely an inner disciple for at least three years before the Qing generation's ascension. This is because of the following:

One day, Shang Qinghua’s concise Great System delivered a new command: Become the An Ding Peak head disciple within three years. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Now, it is somewhat loose evidence, as there is nothing to say that "three years" means for certain that the ascension would occur three years from that point, but it does mean that it occured no earlier than that. By now, Shang Qinghua has already been an inner disciple for some time, long enough to have been assisted by Mobei-jun a few times and to have gone on several missions-- most likely around a few months to a year or so at minimum.

Of course, how long has passed between Shen Qingqiu joining the sect and this point? Well, since Shen Qingqiu is still described as a youth:

Shang Qinghua suddenly heard the tinkling of sword tassel pendants, and a youth wearing Qing Jing Peak’s uniform slowly approached him. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Because of this description, I would say that Shen Qingqiu is most likely between seventeen and his early twenties, since it isn't particularly likely that he would become head disciple in less than a year after joining the sect. Of course, within this age range, there is one important event that occurs-- the battle of Bai Lu mountain, which would have occured when Shen Qingqiu was twenty and Yue Qingyuan was twenty-three.

Now, this gets into more of a speculation than anything else-- just before this point, Mobei-jun attacked Huan Hua Palace and the An Ding Peak disciples. If the battle of Bai Lu Mountain had already occured, it would have happened no more than a few years earlier. We also know that there is a tentative truce between the demon realm and the cultivation world:

This suggestion was solid. For many years, the Human and Demon Realms had maintained an uneasy balance and had yet to drop the pretense of peace. Eliminating Sha Hualing and her mob wouldn’t be impossible, but it would likely light a fuse. The demons definitely wouldn’t let her death go unanswered, and it wouldn’t be worth it if they stirred up an even greater conflict. (7 Seas, Ch. 3)

I suspect that this pretense of peace was likely set in place after the battle of Bai Lu Mountain, when the demon realm had just lost their ruler.

Since just a short time had happened since the demons' defeat and a likely truce between the realms, I find it unlikely that Mobei-jun, a prominent member of demonic nobility, at this time would be actively antagonizing the cultivation world by attacking Huan Hua Palace and Cang Qiong Mountain. Now, of course, there is a potential alternate storyline that this is exactly what happened, and Mobei-jun went rogue as an act of lashing out, and that interpretation would be perfectly valid on its own.

Personally, though, I believe that Shang Qinghua's meeting with Mobei-jun occured before the battle of Bai Lu Mountain, while the cultivation world and demon world were in the tense state on the edge of war. This means that Shang Qinghua most likely became an inner disciple when Shen Qingqiu was around 17-19 years old.

With this information, we can determine some relative ages:

Yue Qingyuan is three years older than Shen Qingqiu, who is a little older than Liu Qingge. Because Shang Qinghua was seventeen when Shen Qingqiu was already head disciple, it is most likely that he is around Liu Qingge's age, give or take a few years, as it is not particularly likely (though potentially possible) for Shen Qingqiu to have gone from new disciple to head disciple in the space of a single year.

Aside from these four, there are no other ages that can be determined for the peak lords.

With all of this information, a fairly decent timeline can be created. Characters' ages will be listed with each notable year.

《 THE TIMELINE 》

*counted up to the start of SVSSS. If using this timeline, keep in mind that the earliest and latest notes for date ranges can overlap-- do not accidentally have a disciple join the sect before the current peak lords ascend, or have SQH become head disciple after ascension! Dates with ranges are colored green (earliest) and red (latest).

Earlier than -21 YR

LQG: <;10-11

(earliest) Liu Qingge joins Cang Qiong Mountain

-21 YR

LQG: 10-11, SQQ: 12, YQY: 15, QHT: <16, QJL: 16

Shen Jiu sold to Qiu Jianluo

Yue Qi joins Cang Qiong Mountain

--IAC--

-19 YR

LQG: 12-13, SQQ: 14, YQY: 17

(earliest*) Yue Qingyuan enters the Lingxi Caves with Xuan Su

-18 YR

LQG: 13-14, SQQ: 15, YQY: 18, QHT: <19, QJL: 19

(latest*) Yue Qingyuan enters the Lingxi Caves with Xuan Su

Shen Jiu kills Qiu Jianluo and burns down Qiu Manor

Shen Jiu becomes Wu Yanzi's disciple

(earliest*) Yue Qi leaves the Lingxi Caves

(earliest*) Yue Qi becomes head disciple

(latest) Liu Qingge joins Cang Qiong Mountain

-17 YR

LQG: 14-15, SQQ: 16, YQY: 19

(latest*) Yue Qi leaves the Lingxi Caves

(latest*) Yue Qi becomes head disciple

--IAC--

Yue Qingyuan meets Su Xiyan

Shen Jiu kills Wu Yanzi and joins Cang Qiong Mountain

-16 YR

LQG: 15-16, SQH: 15-17, SQQ: 17, YQY: 20

(earliest) Shen Qingqiu becomes Head Disciple

(earliest) Shang Qinghua meets Mobei-jun and becomes inner disciple at age 17

(earliest) Shang Qinghua receives the directive to become head disciple within three years

(earliest) Shang Qinghua becomes head disciple

-14 YR

MF: 2, LQG: 17-18, SQH: 17-19, SQQ: 19, YQY: 22

(latest) Shen Qingqiu becomes Head Disciple

(latest) Shang Qinghua meets Mobei-jun and becomes inner disciple at age 17

(earliest**) Su Xiyan imprisoned and subjected to torture in Water Prison

(earliest**) Battle of Bai Lu Mountain

(earliest**) Tianlang-jun Sealed

-13 YR

NYY: <1, LBH: 1, MF: 3, LQG: 18-19, SQH: 18-20, SQQ: 20, YQY: 23

(latest**) Su Xiyan imprisoned and subjected to torture in Water Prison

(latest**) Battle of Bai Lu Mountain

(latest**) Tianlang-jun Sealed

Luo Binghe is Born

Su Xiyan Dies

(earliest) Qing Generation ascend to become Peak Lords

--IAC--

-11 YR

NYY: 2-3, LBH: 3, MF: 5, LQG: 20-21, SQH: 20-22, SQQ: 22, YQY: 25

(earliest***) Ming Fan joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

-9 YR

NYY: 4-5, LBH: 5, MF: 7, LQG: 22-23, SQH: 22-24, SQQ: 24, YQY: 27

--IAC--

-8 YR

NYY: 5-6, LBH: 6, MF: 8, LQG: 23-24, SQH: 23-25, SQQ: 25, YQY: 28

(latest) Shang Qinghua receives the directive to become head disciple within three years

(earliest***) Ning Yingying joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

-5 YR

NYY: 8-9, LBH: 9, MF: 11, LQG: 27-28, SQH: 27-29, SQQ: 29, YQY: 32

--IAC--

(latest) Shang Qinghua becomes head disciple

(latest) Qing Generation ascend to become Peak Lords

(latest) Ming Fan joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

-4 YR

NYY: 9-10, LBH: 10, MF: 12, LQG: 28-29, SQH: 28-30, SQQ: 30, YQY: 33

Luo Binghe's adoptive mother dies

(earliest) Luo Binghe joins Qing Jing Peak

(earliest) Shen Qingqiu reaches Core Formation

-3 YR

NYY: 10-11, LBH: 11, MF: 13, LQG: 29-30, SQH: 29-31, SQQ: 31, YQY: 34

(latest****) Ning Yingying joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

(latest) Luo Binghe joins Qing Jing Peak

-2 YR

NYY: 11-12, LBH: 12, MF: 14, LQG: 30-31, SQH: 30-32, SQQ: 32, YQY: 35

(latest*****) Shen Qingqiu reaches Core Formation

-1 YR

NYY: 12-13, LBH: 13, MF: 15

--IAC--

Year 0

NYY: 13-14, LBH: 14, MF: 16

SVSSS Begins

-----

This timeline operates under the following conditions. For some of these conditions, alternatives are discussed in the post above-- if you wish to use any of the alternative calculations, then you're more than welcome to adjust the timeline as applicable for your own use!

"Years" are counted from the first day of the spring festival/Chinese new year, rather than January 1

All character ages are nominal ages, so they were born in the year they are counted as age "1"

Luo Binghe was born after the new year, and so his nominal age is only about one year higher than chronological.

Shang Qinghua met Mobei-jun before the battle of Bai Lu Mountain

The system's time limit for SQH does reference the time of the Qing generation's ascension

The Immortal Alliance Conference takes place roughly in the middle of the year. Based on the fact that it is warm enough for the disciples to dip their feet into a stream and find that pleasant, it would make sense for the IAC to occur in a warmer season (Ch. 4)

Further References and Footnotes:

*Yue Qi was in the Lingxi Caves for more than one year and Qiu Manor had already been destroyed by the time he got out (Ch. 21)

**The birth of Luo Binghe occured a few days after the battle of Bai Lu Mountain. Depending on when LBH was born, it could be at the end of year -13 or the first few days of year -12 (Ch. 21)

***We do not know the earliest a child can join Cang Qiong Mountain, even though the appropriate age for cultivation most likely cuts off somewhere around 15 (due to YQY joining at that age and no comments about him being "too old"). For the purposes of this timeline, I am setting the absolute youngest to age 5, but more realistically a disciple wouldn't join until age 8-10 at the earliest.

****It is unknown whether the only time that disciples can join Cang Qiong Mountain is during the recruitment trials. Therefore, there remains a possibility for Ning Yingying to have joined the sect in the same year as Luo Binghe, but at some point before the recruitment trials due to connections. This can potentially be supported by Shen Jiu joining after the IAC, but at the same time, it is not confirmed that SJ joined CQM immediately, or if he had to wait until the next recruitment trial, so there is no clear canon precedent-- nonetheless, it is still possible. Note that Ning Yingying can only join at this late point if Luo Binghe joins at age 11, and after her. The only hard requirement is that NYY joined at some point before LBH.

*****I have placed this as the absolute latest time SQQ could have formed a golden core because this puts him at having been cultivating for sixteen years. It is a bit of a stretch already , but I don't think that "ten and a few" years could really be any longer than this. It is also worth noting that by the time SQQ reaches core formation, every other peak lord has already done so, with Yue Qingyuan first, Liu Qingge and Qi Qingqi next, and Shang Qinghua most likely last (Ch. 24)

--

Please let me know if you notice any errors in calculation, formatting, or missing details! This was quite substantial so there's a good chance I may have missed something.

Some of the points in this analysis and timeline calculations were brainstormed with the help of @zykamiliah , @cum-villain , @furbygoblinxiv . Many thanks!

#svsss #canon examined #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #yue qingyuan #liu qingge #shang qinghua #svsss timeline #resource

[sex-storytime]

Best Friend

The door was unlocked when I reached the front of the new house. It was small, very small for a family of five, but I was thankful my best friend hadn't moved away. We had been friends since the first day of school and, to be honest, I had nobody else.

“Sophie?” I called out, having been invited over but not wanting to just barge into her house.

"It’s open, Jeff. Come in." Came her sing song reply, “I’m in my room, first door at the top of the stairs…” she continued, clearly exerting herself in some way.

I walked up the stairs to see the bedroom door was open and my best friend, Sophie, was lying on the floor. She was on her stomach, wearing only a t-shirt and panties. She had a pillow under her groin, folded at the corner. She held herself in a backwards arch, like doing a cobra pose in yoga. Her body trembled with effort. Her cute, round face was cherry red. Her light blue eyes glazed over and oddly empty.

What she was doing completely blew my mind. I'd been lost in my own world, walking down the hall, when Sophie said my name once more. It was a hot day, summer was just getting started, and I was already suffering under the sad reality that the house didn't have air conditioning. My minimal outfit of a t-shirt and mesh shorts felt like a full, fur coat.

"You should… Try this," she gasped, "Feels really good." She took a deep breath and collapsed flat on the floor. "Fuck." The word slipped out of her. Her long, golden blonde hair pooled around her head.

I stared at her as she lost herself for a moment. My friend's skimpy outfit revealed way more of her curvy body and tan skin than I was used to seeing. Her breasts looked particularly large in her baby blue v-neck. Her full butt was similarly flattered by her yellow, bikini-cut panties.

Sophie came back to consciousness. "Didn’t you hear me? Seriously, Jeff, come over here," she said, an edge of annoyance in her voice.

Tentatively, I stepped inside her doorframe.

"What's up?" I asked, playing dumb.

As a young man, the same age as Sophie, I knew what masturbation looked like, but I'd never seen anyone do it that way with a pillow. I was still a virgin and I knew Sophie was too. I certainly wasn't prepared for Sophie to openly share something so intimate with me.

Sophie and I had always been close. Unlike our friends who seemed to be suffocated by their close relationships -- fighting each other for air -- Sophie and I both basked in our shared spaces. We were playmates as kids and confidants as teens. I told my best friend nearly everything and had an easy expectation that she would do the same.

But we weren't, you know… Like this!

It was awkward when we watched a movie, and a sex scene came on. I felt uncomfortable helping fold Sophie's underwear when we did the laundry. Sophie had a nice body because she was super curvy and stuff. But I didn't, like, sneak on her in the shower or ogle at her bathing suit.

We were, you know, people. Until that random afternoon when my best friend called me into her bedroom while she was grinding her pussy against a pillow.

"Come on, we need to do this together. Try this with me," Sophie said. She wiggled her butt purposefully, clearly starting her process all over again.

"You mean, like, lying on the ground… pretending to…?" I asked.

"Not exactly," Sophie said. She looked up at me, her face pink and sweaty with exertion. "You put a pillow down. And you lie on top of it. Then you kind of press down. You know? Feels awesome. It’s not sex, Jeff!"

I can't say why I listened. It should have been weird -- OK, it was weird -- but for whatever reason I treated it more like my best friend was inviting me to try a new game or watch a movie. Gingerly, I stepped into her bedroom. Like me, Sophie was a bit of a geek. She had a flatscreen TV with a couple consoles attached. Her tan bedroom walls had posters from Breath of the Wild and Animal Crossing. Her room was a peaceful, welcoming place.

But in the moment, it felt almost foreboding. Like the air itself was all charged up. As soon as I stepped inside, I was hit with the scent of Sophie's honey-sweet perfume mixed with something else; instinctively familiar.

"Grab the one from my bed," Sophie said, breathily.

I took the pillow -- a sad, floppy, lime green thing whose filling had fled long ago -- and dropped it on the ground. I fluffed the pillow as best I could, then lay down on top of it. I adjusted myself till I had my genitals in what seemed like the right place.

"There you go," Sophie said, "Now just..." Instead of saying it, she did it. Arched herself again. Her wide hips swiveled slightly back and forth on the pillow. Again, I became very aware of her body. Her broad shoulders and long arms. Large breasts and bubble butt. Pretty face and light, sparkling sapphire eyes.

I tried to mirror the blonde teen. I pressed down into the pillow and wiggled a little. And, amazingly -- despite the fact that we were working with very different equipment -- I could kind of see what Sophie was getting at. Like catching a glimpse of a mirage from the far side of the desert.

There were a few problems that kept me from getting closer, however. One, the pillow made things too soft. For Sophie, the cushion gave her something to rub against. For me though, I got the sense that I needed something firmer. Honestly, the bare floor would probably have been fine!

But, ironically, the other problem was that I was massively turned on. The smell of my best friend’s pheromones… that agonizing look of ecstasy on her face… my penis erect and throbbing. Everything around me -- Sophie, what she was doing, what she invited me to do -- had led to the inevitable reaction. At any other time, an erection was the perfect way to start getting myself off. But not like this. Some instinctual part of me knew that if my cock was softer, it would be easier to press against the ground and, theoretically, might feel nice.

I looked over at Sophie. Unintentionally, we'd ended up facing each other. Quite close. I could see every detail of Sophie's face, screwed up with effort. She was clearly building toward another release. She clenched, held, then flopped in a strained, desperate rhythm. Over and over, like an odd kind of exercise.

I stayed in place, just lightly pressing down. There was the distant sensation that maybe something could be there, but I knew I wouldn't be able to reach it in the moment. Instead, I sort of teased myself while I watched Sophie take herself down the path to pleasure.

"Nothing?" Sophie asked, suddenly aware that I was staring at her.

"Well… Kinda?" I said, "I get the feeling it might work if some things were different. But not right now."

"Oh, OK," Sophie said, clearly disappointed. "That's too bad. I'm glad you tried it though."

"Me too," I said.

Carefully, I got off the floor. I tossed Sophie's pillow back on her bed. Sophie was still humping her pillow when I left.

I wandered away, feeling shell shocked. My penis was hard and my testicles tinged. I wanted nothing more than to bring myself to an inevitable release… but this was Sophie! My best friend! Unable to remember why I had ventured over to see her in the first place, I headed back home.

________

About an hour later, I was in my bedroom -- sweating my balls off while playing online -- when the thought popped into my head.

I could be doing it right now.

It was a random idea, borne of nothing, as if my subconsciousness had been chewing on this for a while and finally spit it out.

I put the controller to the side. Looked down at the grey carpet. My bedroom door was shut. The distraction of my repeated virtual deaths meant my dick was soft -- exactly where I needed it to be. I slid off my chair and dropped to the ground.

So, I took one of the two pillows from below my head, and I placed it on the centre of the bed. I then removed my blanket, pulled down my pants and released my aching penis free into the coolness of air. At that moment, my penis was like a solid stick dancing to and fro as if it was attached to a spring....

I then quickly climbed over my pillow and placed my penis on its lower edge side. I then covered my naked ass (and most of me, up to my eyes) again with the blanket. Like Sophie had shown me before, I pressed down with my crotch and arched my back. Like lightning, there it was. This was a very different experience than I was used to. This wasn’t like masturbation.

I lay still on my stomach for a few minutes, so as to let my penis feel the softness of the silky pillow.. The feel of the pillow below my steaming hot manhood was like cold water poured over ice... It had such a cooling feel. My body began to writhe, pulling instinctual primal urges from my deep subconceous. My body was trying to re-enact intercourse for the first time.

I was only dimly aware of the way I had been holding the topmost pillow, cradling it as one might a slender lover, the bottom edge trapped beneath my belly and coming against the glans of my turgid organ. Where before I would naturally reach down to clutch my manhood, my hips took over of their own accord, pushing my hardness further into the yielding cushion of the pillow.

Without much thought or effort, I turned flat on my stomach, my erection now lying between the mattress and the pillow. Sophie was right, it felt rather good to be compressed on all sides like that, to be enveloped in such softness. Moving my hips, I thought about how Sophie looked, her tight blue top and those pretty panties she wore. For the first time in my life I saw my best friend as a woman… I wanted so much to get between those slender thighs of hers, and break the final taboo between us.

This masturbation was vastly different from simply stroking off with my hand. Here was full body involvement. My toes digging into the mattress, legs taut, I rocked back and forth in the instinctive unthinking movements of copulation. Hands clutching the bed sheets, I gasped and grunted in a blatantly vocal way, the ecstatic pleasure rising along with my pulse.

Wet trails of pre-cum stained the pillowcase in advance of the inevitable orgasm. No longer in the vague mist of waking dream, I desperately held onto the fantasy of Sophie writhing beneath him, putting aside the nagging concern about what he was actually doing. I felt deliriously out of control, a sensation I never had while teasing and arousing himself by hand. The trigger of my climax was tantalizingly close, and I pushed even harder to tip himself over. I imagined thrusting deep inside Sophie’s virgin pussy, finally despoiling her, making her my own with this most intimate yet violent act. 

It was more work than stroking myself off, but it also felt fantastic in a slightly different way. Because I was lying on my stomach, in some ways it felt more like fucking, because I could imagine someone under me, feeling the same building pleasure.

Just when I felt myself begin to tire, I reached my apex. It had been at least a month since I had cum and my sperm was boiling up inside my balls. I was getting closer and closer to my orgasm and my penis felt impossibly huge. My balls tightened up at the base of my cock. I felt the building pleasure at the end of my penis, and the draining sensation in my thighs. My glans felt so big, and I felt that fullness at the tip, the need to release. 

With muscles tensing all at once, my orgasm overtook me, soon thick gouts of semen would be spilling from my body. I knew I wasn't going to be able to pull out of my makeshift vagina and as my testicles contracted, releasing a heavy load of sperm, the velvety caress of the pillow sheet triggered the start of my orgasm. As I felt the immense pleasure at the end of my penis, I felt my semen run up the length of my shaft. "Oh Sophie!" I groaned.

I felt my thrusts become more urgent and my cock was so hard, ripe and ready. My breath grew ragged, and my bulging penis grew even bigger between the pillows, the massive bulbous head was thrust deep inside and every inch of my massive cock was throbbing violently, pulsing and pumping. 

When I went over the edge it felt like my cock was going to burst… then the spunk rocketed up from my balls and launched violently out of the end of my sensitive glans. The first spurt felt like my entire life force left my body. The feeling was immense, my heart pounded in my chest as my body convulsed and then it felt like I was spurting the entire contents of my balls out of the end of my penis and deep between the pillows. My muscles spasmed, my cock throbbed, and I let my sticky seed jet into my sheets in ever dwindling volleys. The pleasure overwhelmed me. The effort to reach that place had been so much. The orgasm was a wondrous final reward.

Even after the initial euphoria had faded, I lay breathless on the pillows, my softening cock soaking in the sticky wetness of my spent passion. Too soon the spell was over. I rose onto my knees silently cursing the mess I had made to my bedding. It would be one thing if it were just my sheets, but to pump all that slimey man goo into the pillow where I laid my head at night. This would need some tactful cleaning!

I lay on the floor for a while, smelling my carpet. Muscles aching like I'd done an hours' worth of exercise. I drifted in and out of a strange, altered consciousness. Only dimly aware of the world around me until I knew I needed to hide the evidence of my ejaculation. I headed to the shower, still consumed with what I had done. Washing the goo from my genitals, I continued to stroke and caress myself according to habit.

I suppose I was, by most definitions, a well cut young man. Lean but not skinny, one would have thought that the last thing a dark haired college student needed to do was jerk off in order to achieve sexual fulfillment. In fact, I had spent so much time with Sophie that friends thought we were actually dating. I had never even considered it and laughed it off… but now?

I loved Sophie like a friend, and while I had met girls that were willing to be sexual, none had captured my heart like this -stroking my hardening cock under the warm flow of water in the shower.

________

I met up with Sophie several times over the next week or two and everything was strangely back to how it had been. Nothing needed to be said and we continued our friendship without any complications. The following weekend I was invited over for dinner, as I often had been, with Sophie and her family. It wasn’t anything special, her Mom had grabbed Chinese on the way back from work and we all loaded up our plates. They had a tiny, circular dining room table that her dad had found at a yard sale down the street. It was big enough for four, but not six, so Sophie and I set out stack tables in the nearby living room and ate on the couch.

For such a large family -- Her Mom, Dad, her two sisters and Sophie - dinner was upsettingly silent. I remembered how their meals used to be, all of us carousing around the big table, talking excitedly about what had happened that day. Here, though, the clatter of utensils and plates overwhelmed whatever urge we might have had to say anything to each other. And what was there to talk about, really?

I waited till everyone seemed truly lost in their own worlds, then I elbowed Sophie. She turned and glared at me.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"I did it," I said, under my breath, "I made it work. In my bedroom."

"Oh, awesome," Sophie said, her face shifting from slightly irritated to fully excited. Her eyes lit up like bright blue fire. "How was it?"

I looked down at the ground, shyly. I guess some things still felt strange to admit to Sophie.

"Nice," Sophie said, and gave my shoulder a playful shove.

After dinner, her siblings left to go hang out with their respective friends, leaving Sophie and me to watch TV with her parents. It's not that we didn't have our own social groups because we did. But most of our friends had gone away to University, while we were still local so we had fewer social options.

I suppose we could have gone out, the two of us, but it was awkward to wander around our old hometown. The thought of running into people, of having to explain that we were just friends -- I don't think either of us was anticipating that interaction. So, instead, we stayed on the couch and watched TV.

It didn't take long, however, for her Mom and Dad to shuffle off to sleep, and so we found ourselves sitting together on the beat-up couch. Almost close enough to be cuddling.

"You want to do it again?" Sophie asked.

"Huh?" I asked. I looked over at Sophie. She was wearing a long, light pink, sleep shirt that went down to her knees -- hiding her ample curves. She gave me a winking smile, like she was telling a dirty joke.

"Do you want to?" Sophie asked again. Suddenly, I realised what she meant.

"Here? Now?"

"Upstairs," Sophie said. She didn't wait for my response, just stood up and glided out of the living room. I mean, was I truly going to sit and watch TV by myself at that point?

Back in Sophie's bedroom, I found her already lying splayed on the floor, pillow strategically placed under her. She had lifted her sleep shirt up to her waist, exposing a pair of egg blue, bikini-cut panties.

Sophie grunted hello, then ground into the ground. "Do you need a pillow?" she asked, throatily.

"Nah," I said. I lay down on the floor. I could feel myself stiffening already, and I knew I needed to take the opportunity before the act became impossible.

Sophie's hardwood floors felt even better than my carpet. We were facing each other again. Hearing Sophie's gulping breaths, feeling her body tremble nearby, all of it conspired to take my experience from a solid 7 to a tremendous 10. Moments later, I was shooting hot seed into my shorts.

"Did you just cum?" Sophie asked. She looked about to hit the precipice, herself. Her cheeks were pinker than her shirt.

"Yeah."

She was going to town like there was no tomorrow, going faster and faster and never letting up...and the looks on her face were priceless!.. her eyes rolling, biting her tongue, I could tell she was totally unaware of her surroundings and I wished I had grabbed my phone to record her ministrations. I could tell she was about to cum... her body tensed up, her face was full of anticipation, and she was thrusting her hips relentlessly against her worn out pillow.

"Aaaaaeeeeeeiiiiiii," Sophie was suddenly overtaken by her own orgasm. It had only been a mtter of seconds since I had climaxed and I watched in amazement as my best friend had the most explosive orgasm of her young life! She folded and shook and jerked for at least two minutes before rolling over beside me, twitching gently.

Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed. "Fuck, that was good…."

Sophie picked up her head and met my eyes. Her look was dreamy, distant. Yet there was something focused beneath the surface. Like she was making a decision.

We shared a goofy grin.

"That's it for you?" Sophie asked.

"Pretty much," I said. I had no doubt I could squeeze another orgasm out of myself. But the rubbing took a lot out of me. Something about it was so much more taxing than the usual stroking off.

"Well, OK," Sophie said, "I'll see you in the morning?"

I knew, right then, that she wasn't making the usual, trite statement. It was an appointment.

A promise.

________

Sometimes it takes a while to settle into a new habit. Retraining your body, your mind, to incorporate a different routine. That was not the case for Sophie and me. We were barely past our first day of this and already our fresh tradition felt expected. As if we had been doing it our entire lives and would continue to do so forever more.

Sophie called it pressing and so that's how I came to think of our activity. It wasn't always at the same time or even every day, but we managed to have regular regroups. One morning we might wake up, press together, and get ready for the day. Or after lunch, we'd have an afternoon press in between doing chores or playing games or whatever. And if we missed both of those (or were having a particularly 'active' day) we'd go for a press after dinner, right before exhaustedly wandering home to our beds.

Outside of our little meetups, everything else was normal. We weren't flirty with each other. We didn't even talk about what we were doing. We always wore clothes when we did it -- Sophie with some sort of shirt and panties, me in my t-shirt and shorts. We met up, pressed, and went back to our lives. Like all of this was happening in some separate, bubble universe.

The way everything became casual, however, was also nearly our downfall. Three times, with three separate people, we were almost caught.

The first was my fault. It happened a little over a week after we'd started our escapades. Her family had finished dinner and was watching TV. It was one of those rare evenings when all o them were home, and Sophie and I found ourselves sitting on the floor, in front of the couch.

Sophie turned to me, mid-episode, and cocked her eyebrow. She subtly jutted her chin. That was all I needed to know. I gave her a single nod.

It was on.

A moment later, Sophie said she was feeling tired and went to her bedroom. I waited what felt like a good amount of time (but was probably only two minutes) and followed her upstairs.

I found Sophie already lying on her pillow. She gave me a big, goofy grin as I lay down next to her. The process of this had made me start to chub up, but I'd learned to (literally) push through such things. We humped the ground together, the sounds of boring TV news playing in the distance.

There was this strange intimacy to our act, stolen in little moments. For the most part, I stayed within myself, engaged in my own fantasies. But then I would hear Sophie make a little gasp as she hit the right spot. Or I would grunt with the exertion of the act. Sometimes we'd accidentally bump each other -- arms or legs, never anything more. It was strangely reassuring, an encouragement of the illicit actions we were sharing.

"What are you guys doing?"

I froze. I slowly turned my head to the source of the sound. Her younger sister, Lauren, was standing in the doorway. In my haste, I'd forgotten to close Sophie's door. Damn!

Lauren was 17, mousy and thin, with bright red hair (the same colour as her Mom’s) that hung almost to her waist. She was wearing her usual workout outfit -- a tanktop and yoga pants. She eyed us, confused, like someone searching for an obvious word but unable to find it in the moment.

"Nothing," Sophie said, like this was a perfectly satisfying answer. She didn't even get off the pillow. Just spun around and stared up at our younger sister. "Go away."

Lauren did not do that. Instead, she stayed at the door, narrowing her eyes like she was processing everything.

"It's fine, Lauren," I said, the panic rising in my throat. "We're hanging out."

"We're planning your birthday gift," Sophie said. This was a particularly bad lie, since we were doing nothing that looked like planning. And Lauren's 18th birthday was still a good two months away.

But while her youngest sister was super sweet, she wasn't very sharp. She wasn't a dope, just far too trusting. The kind of girl who couldn't understand that people might lie to her for their own benefit.

"Oh!" she said, brightly, "OK." And quickly scampered away.

I wasn't going to argue with our good luck. I got off the floor, gently closed Sophie's door, and returned to what we were doing.

The second time we almost got caught, though, was on Sophie (somewhat). It was a Saturday afternoon, a week or so later, and she found me watching TV in the living room. She was wearing a white t-shirt with a pink lettering on it, as well as a pair of green sweat-shorts. Her breasts and bottom seemed liable to break out of both at any minute.

Sophie gave me our signal and I got off the couch. But instead of leading me back to her bedroom, Sophie shook her head.

"Here," she said. That one word was shocking, for all that it implied. I glanced around the room. Right out in the open? We were sure to be seen.

"No one's home," Sophie said, "They're all out doing errands or whatever." She grabbed a pillow off the couch -- blue, small, and squarish -- and dropped it on the floor.

"Are you sure?"

Sophie gave me a chastising look. You'd think that would be hard based on how she was lying on her groin, getting ready to fuck the hell out of that poor cushion. But, somehow, my best frind still managed to look disdainful. I shrugged and dropped next to her.

I have to admit, changing our surroundings did something to the whole experience. I'm not saying we got bored of the usual stuff, but after weeks of it, there was a sort of numbness to the routine of it all. Doing it in another place -- a room where we spent so much time with the rest of our family -- gave everything a sharper edge.

I went over the top first. Unlike Sophie's peak, mine required some post-orgasm maintenance. So, I got up to go find a tissue. Fortunately, my splooge had mostly stayed in my shorts, though I had a drop or two on my leg.

As I went toward the bathroom, however, I felt a hand on my chest. I stopped in place. Standing in front of me, right at the top of the stairs, was Sophie’s oldest sister, Jessica. Her twenty-three-year-old sibling had obviously seen everything. So much for an empty house.

Jessica raised her eyebrow at me in a way that was totally different than Sophie's come-hither gesture. It was more like drawing a dagger.

"Tell me you two aren't doing what I think you're doing," Jessica said. Even though it was a weekend, she was dressed in a nice, pink blouse and a dark navy skirt. She had her auburn hair tied back in a severe bun. She'd done her makeup, as well, making her angular features appear almost devastatingly beautiful. I felt very much like a turd she'd found on the stairs. "Tell me this isn't what it looks like," Jessica repeated.

I paused. I didn't know what to say, except to parrot it back. "It isn't what it looks like," I said. Like that was going to make a difference.

Jessica's green eyes, remarkably similar to Sophie's, hardened.

"It's not," I said.

"OK," Jessica said. I braced for the impact. Instead, her oldest sister stared me down for another moment, then spun on her heel and walked away.

Later, I told Sophie about it, expecting her to freak out. Instead, she laughed.

"Don't sweat it," my blonde, best friend said, a smile still playing on her cute face. "Jessica's not going to do anything."

"I don't know," I said, "She seemed pretty angry. She could tell your parents we wre having sex together!”"

"We weren't and Jessica's always angry," Sophie said. I couldn't argue with that. "I'm sorry she caught us. I didn't realise she was home. But Jessica's not the tattling type. She's happy to ignore us. Trust me. We just need to be more careful."

Our last brush with danger came soon after. It was by far the most chaste, yet it felt like the riskiest moment of all. Sophie and I had spent the day out and were headed upstairs to my bedroom for our evening session. But as we were about to go into my room, my Mom called after us. Sophie and I shared a nervous look. We walked back down to the kitchen.

My Mom was waiting there for us, hands on her hips, in standard disapproval position. Our kitchen was so tiny, it made my mother look like a giant. Even more imposing than usual.

"You two are up to something," my Mom said. Her voice was not kind.

The sink was running behind her, stacked to the brim with dishes. A reminder of yet another indignity we'd had to endure with our house: it didn't even have a dishwasher.

"We're hanging out," I said, shrinking under my mom's pointed interrogation.

Mom shook her head. "It's more than that. I see you two sneaking off at all hours. Always in your room with the door shut. What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I said.

"Nothing," Sophie said, "Like Jeff told you, we're just hanging out. Playing games. You know."

Mom's glare deepened, like Jessica's had done. Her eyes narrowed, a mirror of Lauren's from earlier.

"You're up to something," she said, "And I don't like it. Your father and I, this family, we're all going through a lot right now. It's bad enough as is and if you go and do something stupid to make it worse, even the tiniest, littlest bit..."

"We're not," Sophie said, "We won't. I promise."

Mom's look didn't soften, but she let out a deep breath. "Fine," she said. She waved us out of the kitchen but stared at me. "You're old enough that you don't have to live with me anymore. So, I expect you to be on your best behavior if you want to stay under this roof?"

"Of course," Sophie said with a look of horror on her face.

"Understood," I said.

We escaped back to my bedroom. That night's session felt strained and anxious. Rushed and unfulfilling. But we still did it.

And that was the larger issue. For all those close calls, for all the very real consequences that came with them, we never stopped what we were doing. We didn't step back or rethink our actions. You'd think that with everything that had gone on, with every warning sign we'd passed, that we'd learn our lesson.

Instead, we escalated.

________

"Do you ever think about stuff?" Sophie asked, "You know, when we're doing this?"

We were both post-peak, lying back like bomb victims on Sophie's hardwood floor. It was surprisingly comfortable after a good, hard climax. The room sank of cum.

"You mean, like, other people?" I asked.

"Yes," Sophie said, "I mean, you're not focusing on how you're making it with my bedroom floor, are you?"

"Of course not," I said.

"So… do you picture anyone specific?" Sophie asked.

"Ahhhh… well," I mumbled, thinking of how hard I had cum the first timeI had thought of Sophie, "No. No one specific. It's kind of random. Just 'a girl,' you know?"

Sophie rolled onto her side, giving me a dubious look.

But I recognized a no-win situation when I saw one. If I said I thought about Sophie, I was an sex-obsessed pervert. But if I said some other girl, then I risked hurting my best friend's feelings. So, I turned to my only defense, and turned the question back to Sophie.

"What about you?" I asked, "Do you ever think about anyone?"

"Not really," Sophie said in a mocking voice, "Just, you know, 'a boy.'"

There was a heavy pause. Each of us waited for the other to crack under the weight of it.

"We’re friends aren’t we? We promised your Mom we wouldn’t be anything else. So come on?" Sophie asked, her voice suddenly quiet and questioning. “Tell me who you fantasise about?”

“No way!”

“You’re useless!”

"You started it," I replied. Oh, so very mature.

"Fine," Sophie said, with an exasperated sigh. "There is this one guy at school. He's kinda tall with dark hair. Muscular. Sometimes I picture him."

"This guy have a name?" I asked. 

"Probably?" Sophie said, "I've never talked to him. I see him in class sometimes."

"It'd be weird if he didn't have a name," I said, "Like, if he was called Random Hotguy or whatever."

"Yeah, Let’s call him Randy," Sophie said.

"Well, that seems appropriate," I said.

I played at being coy, but I couldn't help but feel a little hurt as Sophie described a crush who was almost the exact opposite of my skinny, short, light-haired self. I knew it was stupid to feel jealous. For one, she was Sophie, we were friends and nothing more. She was right, we played together, we weren’t ever going to be lovers. My Mom had nothing to worry about, this little blonde haired hottie was completely off limits. For another, I'd literally forced her to say something. So, what did I expect, exactly?

But that didn't stop me from seething in the moment. And so, I felt the need to take some measure of revenge.

"There is this one girl," I said.

"Do tell," Sophie said.

"She's, um, got brown hair. Brown eyes. Short. She's skinny but in kind of a cute way."

"And where did you find this alluring coat rack?" Sophie asked. Her face was turning sourer by the second.

"You know, around," I said.

"Like around my house maybe?" Sophie asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please, you're obviously talking about Lauren," Sophie said, “I see the way she looks at you. You’re rubbish at flirting by the way.”

"I'm not perving on your little sister," I retorted.

Sophie rolled her eyes at me. 

"Fine. Maybe a little bit," I said.

Sophie shook her head, dismissively, “You always had a thing for redheads and now my little sister is coming of age… she’s small, freckled and has the figure of a boy!”

"She does not!" I gasped. "What's your problem with Lauren? She's your sister, isn't she? Family are supposed to support each other."

"I just think you could do better than that jailbait," Sophie said. I realised it, suddenly. Sophie wasn't playing around. Her feelings were actually, honestly hurt. As if she hadn't done the same thing to me moments before.

"Well, what about Randy?" I asked. "I mean, the guy doesn't even have a real name. Don't you think you should set your sights a little higher?"

Sophie went quiet. She pursed her lips. The air in the room felt thick and heavy. Filled with anger and resentment. More than either of us could carry. After weeks of unbreakable buoyancy, this one silly conversation had popped us both.

I started to get off the floor, but Sophie stopped me.

"There is this one other guy," she said. Her cheeks went a little red.

I realised Sophie was making a peace offering and, fortunately, I was smart enough to accept it. I let myself be held in place.

"He's really cute, kinda handsome," Sophie said, "Light brown hair. Nice body." She ran her eyes up and down me, like punctuating her point.

I let out a loud sigh and lay back down on the floor. "Seriously?" I asked.

"I mean, you're right next to me, and my little sister isn't blind or stupid," Sophie said. "You're turning into a man, so it's kind of hard not to think… of you. I see your face. Your eyes. You're actually quite attractive, you know that?"

"Even though I'm short and skinny with messed up hair, and have an actual real name?" I said.

"Even though," Sophie said.

"Well, as long as we're being honest, there is this other girl I sometimes think about," I said, "She's very pretty. Gorgeous, honestly. And her body is like, wow. She's really hot."

Sophie looked down at herself, dubiously. "Not too fat?" she asked.

"Oh my God, no, she's got curves her sister would kill for!" I said immediately. "She's practically fucking perfect."

"Wow," Sophie said. She breathed it out in a little sigh. Almost like one of the sounds she'd make when she was about to peak.

"Anyway, I know I shouldn't but..."

"It's OK," Sophie said, "I get it.

"Like you said, it's hard not to," I said, "In the moment. You're there, you know? Feeling you bump against me. Hearing your little noises. It's kinda awesome, actually."

"Kind of?" Sophie asked, but I could see she was teasing. "You sure you wouldn't rather a certain skinny redhead?"

"I think I might prefer blondes," I said. A pause. "Are you OK with that? I know it's wrong and all, but."

"I'm fine with it," Sophie said. She put her hand on mine. Just that little touch felt electric. "As long as you're OK with me doing it, too."

"Yeah," I said, "Yes. I'm OK with that."

Everything seemed settled. The next day went on as normal. Even that night, when we held our regular pressing session, it was like nothing had changed.

But when Sophie reached her apex, she gasped out. "Oh Jeff," she said, "So good."

Then dropped limp to the floor.

________

And so, we started talking.

Again, never outside our little meetups. We didn't get flirty in the kitchen or tease each other in front of the TV. But when we'd press, it was like one long running conversation. Whether we were talking to ourselves or communicating with each other I can't say for sure. But we became downright chatty as we made ourselves cum.

"Oh, that's the spot. Right there," Sophie said.

"Fuck that's nice," I said, "So good."

"Gonna cum... So close," Sophie said.

"Ah... cumming..." I said.

Nothing else changed.

There were times when I wished for more. I imagined Sophie taking her shirt off, her pert tits trembling as she took herself to paradise. I thought about grabbing her hand when I came. Or, for that matter, us giving up on the floor and grinding against each other.

These were passing thoughts, fast fantasies, that usually disappeared immediately post-press. Despite our daily actions, the things we said to each other, I kept Sophie filed safely away as my best friend. I was unable to imagine ever storing her under a different category. Our enduring friendship actually meant more to me than sex.

Summer stretched languid around us. Her Dad, Mom, and her olde4 sister Jessica all got busy with work. Little Lauren disappeared all day to be with her friends. Dinners with her family were few and far between so Sophie and I mostly hung out with each other.

The next step was probably inevitable.

"Fuck that feels so good," Sophie said as she pressed down on her pillow. We were back in my bedroom, doing what we did best -- getting ourselves off while we got on with each other.

"You like that?"

"Oh yes," Sophie said, "Oh Jeff you have no idea… How good this makes me feel."

"I'd be damn better than a pillow," I said.

"And I'm sure I'm much more than a floor," Sophie said, "Do… do you want that? To… feel my body -- AH! -- beneath you?"

"So soft and warm," I said, "Your breasts. That ass."

"So hard," Sophie said, "Aching. Thrusting. OH! Oh fuuuuck. I'm getting close. Are…are you gonna let… me cum for you?"

"Please. I'm there, too. Let go, Sophie. I want to see it. Feel it. Feel you cum."

"Oh OHHH! Ah! AHHH! Oh yes! FUCK YES!" Sophie shook. Shuddered.

As if her orgasm sparked mine, the pleasure overwhelmed me. Hot spurts shooting down my leg.

"Oh, fuck that really turned me on," Sophie panted.

She rolled over and kissed me on the top of the head.

It was shocking, that sudden contact. Like another wall had been broken through. I swear I could smell the dusty, chipped plaster as Sophie busted through yet another barrier.

I rolled over to look at her. I'm sure she saw the shock in my face. Instead, Sophie shrugged.

"Just thanking you," Sophie said.

"I didn't do anything," I said.

"If you say so," Sophie said, and she winked my way.

I started to get up. Flopped back. Like I said, that hardwood floor was incongruently comfy after an explosive orgasm. I imagined a pointy rock might feel the same at that point, honestly. That was the thing about cumming, everything around me felt soft and welcoming. My mind, however, became far sharper.

"What are we doing?" I asked.

Again, Sophie shrugged.

"No, seriously, what is this?"

"Fun," Sophie said, as if it were obvious.

"So, we keep doing it," I said.

"At least till we go back to University," Sophie said, "Why not? You have something better to do?"

I had to concede that I did not. The friends that I might want to talk to had all gone off to their lives. The people I very much did not want to see were right outside our front door. It was too easy to feel trapped by a bunch of circumstances that were out of my control.

Sophie seemed to be feeling the same thing. She sat down next to me, leaning back on her bed frame.

"Look, the past year has been so hard," Sophie said, "Dad losing his job. Then losing the house. Our new place... I know it's where we live but it's not home. Even the smells are so unfamiliar. I don't like it there. I don't like this. It sucks for you too, right?"

"It's fucking miserable," I said.

"Right," Sophie said, "And this is just... Look, I'm not saying it's my life or anything. It's a distraction. But it's kind of keeping me sane right now. So, I don't want to stop. We'll move on when it's time. I know we will."

"That makes sense," I said, "Honestly, it's helping me, too."

"We'll reach a certain point," Sophie said, "It'll be easy. One day we'll stop doing it and it won't even feel different. You'll look back and realise 'oh, it's been so long since we did it.'"

"Just like that?"

"Don't you think so?" Sophie said, "Besides it's not like we're doing anything serious here. We're not even touching. We're not being stupid. We're  ot lovers or anything."

I thought back to that kiss on the head Sophie had given me. For a moment, I realized that we were both deceiving ourselves. But that's the thing about a mirage. It's all about how badly you want to see it.

“Just friends.”

________

The summer got hotter. Sophie's Mom talked a big game about buying some window air conditioners, but they never materialized. Sophie and I, already down to t-shirts and shorts, were running out of ways to stay cool. I knew it was bad when Sophie said it was even too hot to press.

I reached the breaking point one afternoon when the knob of my bedroom door melted off in my hand. I wish I was exaggerating, but there I was, standing stupidly in the hallway, with a broken knob in my hand and no way to get back into my bedroom.

Instead, I went in search of Sophie. I headed to hers and discovered Sophie lazing on the couch, stretched out and miserable. She had on a pair of red mesh shorts and a white, ribbed tank. Her top was slightly pulled up, uncovering her cute tummy.

"This house sucks!" she said, writhing in discomfort.

I held up my doorknob as evidence.

"What's that?" she asked.

I explained and she giggled, then groaned. "Oh my God, your knob has  melted off. I really hoped I might get some more use out of it."

"Funny. Well, we could go out," I ventured.

"It's hotter out there than it is here," Sophie said, "Let's watch a movie. About something cold."

"Do you think that'll help?" I asked.

But Sophie was already surfing the screen. Finally, she settled on some old rom-com called The Cutting Edge about competitive ice skating. It was barely watchable, and it didn't help me feel any cooler. But Sophie seemed happy, and it was too hot to argue. It's not like I could go back to my bedroom.

About halfway through -- the female lead kept saying the words 'toe pick' -- Sophie paused the movie.

"I want to take my shirt off," she said, in a strangely matter of fact tone.

"OK?" I gave Sophie an odd look.

"You can take yours off, too," Sophie said.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," I said, "It's a little different when I do it."

"Look, it's really hot," Sophie said, seemingly unaware of the double entendre. "And I'm super uncomfortable. Seeing me in a bra won't even make the top ten of things you've witnessed from me lately. So, I'm going to do this and you're going to be OK with it. OK?"

Oh, I was way more than OK in that moment. Did I mention Sophie's chest was amazing? It was much more than that. Sophie had such perky breasts. I knew it, despite the fact that I'd never seen more than the shape of them under her shirt. So yeah, no, I was more than alright with Sophie taking her shirt off on the couch. If anything, I was sad that she had already set the limit at leaving her bra on.

But this was weird right? Tell me I'm not strange for thinking it was weird that my best friend was going to take out her titties in the middle of the living room in front of me, as casually as pouring herself a drink. She wasn't even my girlfriend!]

Yet, no matter how I felt about it, Sophie was doing it. Sophie reached down for the bottom of her tank and pulled it over her head. You'd think she was ripping off a band-aid, not exposing her twin holiest of holies to her besotted childhood friend. But Sophie kept it casual.

I more than made up for Sophie's lack of concern, however, with my own reaction. I gaped. I gawped. Sophie sat back on the couch in nothing but a lacy black bra and a pair of tiny, scarlet shorts. You'd think she'd just showed me the mysteries of the universe. And, to some extent, she truly had.

There are no words to describe what Sophie had revealed to me. Her bra covered a good portion of her breasts, but still. Her boobs were pert, full and proud. They looked perfectly shaped and wonderfully peachy. I know I'm doing a lousy job of describing them. I'm sure you're thinking 'dude, they're just boobs, and your best friends boobs at that.' But I'm telling you. That's my point. They were so much more than anything I can describe to you. Like discovering the sun after a lifetime of darkness.

And, again, I was only seeing about a third of them thanks to Sophie's lacy bra.

"Ahem," Sophie cleared her throat, dramatically.

"Sorry," I said, and did my best to stop staring. It was like trying to look away from a black hole, so strong was that pull to peek.

"Ahem hem," Sophie did it again, even louder this time. She gestured to my chest.

"Oh," I said, "Right." I didn't remember agreeing to this literal tit for tat, but I wasn't going to step away from it, either. I pulled off my t-shirt, sticky with sweat, and tossed it aside.

"Very nice," Sophie said, looking at me appraisingly.

"You know, I'm completely bare while you're still wearing your bra. It seems to me it would be more even if we were both topless," I said. I mean, can you blame me for trying?

Sophie smirked and shook her head. "Mmmmm… Nice!" she said. She turned the movie back on.

We finished the film, both of us staying in our state of half-dress. You won't be surprised to learn that I missed most of what was on the screen. Look, I'm sure that Moira Kelly was kind of cute for her day, but compared to Sophie's luscious, stupendous, lace-covered chest, nothing else could compete.

I spent the entire time stealing glances when I thought Sophie wasn't looking. It wasn't enough. A lifetime's pass to stare wouldn't have been enough.

When the movie was over, when the guy finally got the girl, Sophie looked my way. I was ready to get berated for my inability to keep my eyes off Sophie's mounds. Instead, she raised an eyebrow. Pointed her chin. Well, I guess it wasn't too hot after all.

"Here's fine," Sophie said, sliding off the couch.

Instinctively I looked around. If the house hadn't been empty, I was pretty sure we'd have already been caught by now. I joined Sophie on the living room floor.

Sophie reached for a pillow off the couch. She didn't bother grabbing for her shirt. Oh. My. God. As if things couldn't get any better. Seeing Sophie lying on her stomach -- about to pleasure herself with a pillow -- with her breasts hanging near-free in her bra? I swear I felt my sanity start to snap.

"You like my titties?" Sophie asked, her face cinched as she pressed down.

For some reason, the word 'titties' sounded strange coming out of her mouth. The sight of her humping the floor was more than enough to overwhelm my momentary pause.

"You look so sexy," I said. I settled into the floor. Honestly, I was too hard at that point to hump. It didn't matter. Watching Sophie was more than enough.

"Oh, that feels so good," Sophie said, "Seeing you staring. Am I truly so amazing, Jeff?"

"You have no idea," I said.

"Think about it. Doing this. Holding me. Squeezing. Would you like that? Do you -- OH! -- want to feel my body while I do this? While I cum for you?"

"Yes… fuck yes," I said.

"Oh Jeff, I wish you could..." Sophie froze mid-moment. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Then why aren't you... you know?"

"Oh," I said. I was surprised she even noticed that I wasn't stuffing myself against the floor. "Well, um, you see. It's kinda hard to do this when I'm… this hard."

"Aw, did looking at my titties give you a stiffy?" Sophie asked. Boy, she really did like using that word for her breasts. "I thought getting an erection was supposed to help you with this stuff."

"It does," I said, "It would. It's just, when we do it this way, if I'm too worked up, it hurts when I try to, you know, make things happen."

"Well, what if you did it a different way," Sophie said, "You know, the way that it would work with you erect… and on your back?"

"I… I don't know."

"Take it out," Sophie said, "Show me. It's OK. I want to see it. Please?"

"No bra," I said. If I was going for it, then I was going for it.

Sophie didn't say a word. She reached back and unsnapped her black, lacy lingerie. She pulled it away and finally, her bare breasts hung free. They were better than I'd been picturing. Plump with phenomenally pert, pink nipples. I lost track of time. Of myself. My whole universe shattered by such a simple moment.

"Your turn," Sophie said. I noticed she'd stopped humping the pillow completely. She was waiting for me to get set.

I stood up and shimmied my shorts and underwear down in one go. My penis popped up, sticking straight out, like an overwound jack-in-the-box. I grabbed it immediately. Unable to control my urge to stroke myself.

Now, it was Sophie's turn to gasp. She stared up at my dick like it was an obelisk. A great and powerful object of desire.

"Wow," Sophie said. It seemed she wanted to add to that sentiment, but her brain was no longer in the business of making words.

I sat down on the couch. My bare bottom stuck to the canvas. Sophie spun herself on the ground so she could tilt her head up and see.

"Do you like it?" I asked, repeating what Sophie had said before. "Is my cock really so amazing, Soph?"

"Stroke it," Sophie said, "Show me. I need to see you masturbating."

Like I required a command by that point. My instincts had already kicked in. I gripped my cock and worked the loose skin back and forth. I was only using my hand, and dry at that, but it didn't matter. It felt incredible.

Meanwhile, below me, Sophie began trembling as she took herself to town on the pillow.

"Oh, Jeff," she said, "Feels so good... Your cock. So thick. Oh, I want it. Jerk it for me. Cum for me?"

With everything that had already happened, with all that we were doing, I wasn't going to last long. Fortunately, neither was Sophie.

Sophie rolled up on her groin, pointed her beautiful tits to the sky, then stiffened. Froze in place. Eyes glazed over. Mouth open. Finally, she broke. She let out a short, sharp sob as the pleasure squeezed out of her.

At that same moment, my cock exploded in my hand. A huge fountain of creamy spunk rocketed out and splattered on Sophie's face. I cried out as my orgasm overwhelmed me.

Sophie rolled over onto her back. She jammed her hand into her shorts and buried it in her pussy, working it like she was trying to rip the poor thing off. She stared up at me, eyes filled with hunger despite having already reached her peak.

I hit her perfect tits with my second shot of my pearlescent seed. I splattered her face again with my third. Sophie gasped and groaned as I bathed her in my sticky essence.

Finally, I puddled onto the ground, splayed out next to Sophie. The last of my load leaked out over my fingers. Sophie rolled over and kissed my forehead again. She stank of pussy and sperm. Desire and satisfaction. Man and woman, in a way we're never supposed to experience.

"You got me," Sophie said, gasping for breath, "Got me good."

"Sorry," I said.

"No way, that was awesome," Sophie said. "I'm going to need a shower now though."

"Me too," I said.

Sophie didn't miss what I was implying. For a moment, my best friend stared at me. She had my cum in her silky blonde hair... On her heaving tits. Both of us were barely clothed. Was I really asking for that much more?

To my surprise, Sophie actually seemed to consider my offer. But then she giggled, jumped up and skipped away.

________

July rolled into August. The heatwave ended, and while it wasn't exactly comfortable, we left unbearable back in the rearview mirror. I thought, after everything that had happened, that we'd progress more. Maybe Sophie would repeat her performance and take her top off or ask me to show her my dick. But none of that happened. Instead, we went back to regular old pressing.

At least for a little while.

In the meantime, life didn't stop moving around us. With time to school getting closer, needs outside of masturbating with Sophie began to take precedence. We drove to University a couple of times to make sure everything was set with the registrar and to get our supplies for the year.

Sophie's little sister, Lauren, was getting ready for her last year of high school, and we helped her get set up. Lauren was going to join us at Uni after high school, so we took her with us to see the campus, too.

Sophie and I did our usual chores -- food shopping, laundry, cooking meals. Her parents were still working like dogs, but her older sister, Jessica, got a bit of a break midway through the month and we met her in the city for lunch. Jessica made no mention of the previous 'incident' and certainly we had nothing to say about it.

Jessica and I never really saw eye to eye. I guess her height and around five seven or five eight but it was difficult to judge her shape in her bulky sweater and loose fitting jeans. Her face was the picture of pure beauty with finely arched eyebrows above green eyes that sparkled like rare treasures and lashes that looked long enough to braid. High, delicate cheekbones gave a remarkable sharpness to her features, as did her dainty nose that rested above the soft pink lips of her narrow mouth. Tiny orange freckles dotted her smooth face as if placed there by the skillful dance of a master's paintbrush on a fresh white canvass. Surrounding it all was a thick mane of lustrous red curls that were pulled back in a tight ponytail, with one unruly strand defying restraint to hang down the left side of her face. Even her voice was beautiful, I realised in awe.

There were hints of Sophie in her looks but where my best friend had curves, Jessica was willowy and slight. As the three of us ate lunch together I noticed she would look up at me, through her long eyelashes, every time Sophie was preoccupied with something. When she noticed me noticing her I became confident that something had changed between us. Jessica smiled. She would lean towards me… her fingers would linger on mine… where there was once hostility I now sensed  a mutual attraction transcending the familial relationship that comes with me being friends with her sister. 

Later that week, when I spent time at their house, Jessica no longer avoided me. She was flirting with me! Relishing times when Sophie was indisposed to place her hands on mine, or massage my shoulders. As timel progressed, the touches became more frequent, the greeting kisses moved from the cheeks to the lips and the private, affectionate glances and sexual innuendo between us became more titillating. I admit to being a willing participant with her in escalating the physical and mental aspects of our closeness… and Sophie was none the wiser.

Toward the end of my most recent visit, Jessica approached me after lunch while Sophie was otherwise occupied, and she told me she greatly enjoyed having me stay with them, especially appreciating my warmth toward her. I did not know where her conversation was leading, so I just let her talk.

She moved close to me, put her hand on my arm, looked into my eyes and told me, "I’m single and I think you’re growing into a very attractive man. To be honest Jeff, I have been thinking about you for many months. I hope that doesn't shock you."

Without breaking eye-contact, I put my hand over hers and replied, "Sophie… wouldn't be happy with me if she knew…”

“She's not here. Don't you find me attractive?”

“Yes,” I gulped, “I've been thinking about you, too, in ways that are not appropriate." I immediately felt that I may have been too presumptuous about the intent of her words, but I was wrong.

She quickly said, "You're not dating my sister, you're just friends! I just want you to know how I feel, Jeff," and she leaned against me and kissed me, twice, both times softly, and then more firmly a third time which clearly indicated to me she had a pressing need for intimacy.

I put my hands on her waist and pulled her tightly against me, feeling for the first time the pressure of her breasts against my chest and the contact of her thighs on mine. I continued the increasing passion of that third kiss and when I put my tongue on her lips she eagerly opened her mouth and an audible groan rattled in her throat.

Our first passionate encounter ended abruptly when Sophie called to us from another room. We separated quickly with both of us a bit stunned by what had just happened.

I spent the rest of the afternoon contemplating the joys of passionate, fulfilling sex with a willing and eager woman, something that had become a distant memory for me. My mind's eye repeatedly undressed Jessica and visualized us fucking each other to multiple orgasms. I knew I was very likely overreacting, but I reveled in thinking about the extraordinary pleasures we could share.

The three of us went to a cozy restaurant that evening, and our flirting spoke volumes although it was necessarily subtle due to Sophie's presence. Jessica was seated across from me, and during the meal she rubbed my leg under the table with her bare foot. It was a simple, suggestive act, and I found it very pleasing and highly erotic. I felt my cock becoming firm, and I liked it.

When Sophie left us to use the restroom, I said to Jessica, "What's happening here?”

“I know what you two were doing… that day… but I also know she hasn't gone all the way with you. I really enjoy spending time with you, Jeff. I like our flirting and… I'm willing to give you what she won’t.”

“What? Are you serious?"

"I am serious, Jeff. Honestly. I have strong feelings for you, and I want to act on them." She reached down and ran her hand up my leg… towards my swollen member. She slid her hand down my inner thigh and traced the outline of my cock with her long fingernails. God, that felt great. I stared at her hardening nipples as they protruded through her top and stared into her emerald green eyes. Jessica smiled a wicked smile as she rubbed my cock through my pants, pre-cum was soaking my underwear. Even if it only went this far – I was in heaven.

She continued to squeeze my cock, I was sure I was going to cum inside my boxers.

"Jess… stop!” I gasped.

"Oh poor thing, you need relief don't you." 

I gulped. She took her dainty thump and rubbed the pre-cum stain at the tip of my cock. I was in heaven and my cock jerked in response. She continued to rub my pre-cum and my cock head below. My glans was enlarged and ripening for the older sister. 

"Jeff, your penis is huge!" she hissed. Her eyes were glued to my cock.

“Please, Jessica!” I said, not even knowing if I wanted her to stop or continue.

“I know you want to spare my sister's feelings, Jeff. That's so cute and so very chivalrous of you… here she comes,” then she whispered as Sophie approached the table, “I want you and it is going to happen sooner or later. If she doesn't make her move… I’ll be waiting to make mine.”

She smiled and all I could do was smile back. Sophie misread the situation and assumed we were simply getting along.  Jessica made some excuses and left me with her younger sister… and sporting an uncomfortable erection.

“I see you still have a thing for redheads,” Sophie giggled, noticing the bulge in my pants but not realising just how true her statement was. We both watched her older sister walk out of sight, her hips swaying gracefully, her red mane of hair bouncing.

The next time we met at their house Jessica smiled knowingly but made no moves with her sister so close by. In other words, they acted like perfectly normal siblings, and we enjoyed our summer break as best we could, considering the circumstances. I guess only Jessica knew we were slipping away for shared masturbation sessions every now and then.

"I want to try something different this time," Sophie announced when I snuck into her bedroom. It was a random Wednesday and after sharing pleasantries with her big sister, she'd given me the chin jut, and here we were, getting ready to get off under the watchful eye of Link and Tom Nook, eyeing us from Sophie's bedroom walls.

The fact that Sophie had spoken up at all already had me nervous. Sure, we talked dirty to each other during the act, but we never came out and discussed the mechanics of what we were up to. Not really.

I assumed Sophie meant that she wanted me to jerk off again. Which, I was totally up for. I was all prepared to let her know that I was fine with it (in exchange for seeing titties), when she swerved so hard it nearly knocked me over.

"I'm just thinking," Sophie said, "Instead of using the floor or a pillow or whatever, it might be nice to try it together."

I raised an eyebrow. Wasn't that what we'd been doing?

"No, I mean, like. If you were pressing on me. And I was pressing on you. It might feel even better, you know?"

I was too shocked to respond. What was Sophie suggesting, exactly? Did she sense her sister wanted sex? Was she offering me her body?

"We'd wear our clothes," Sophie said, as if that made things better. "It would be the same as always. Sort of…"

It was that sort of that really set it apart, wasn't it? I think some part of me was convinced, even after what we'd done during the movie, that this remained normal behavior… just friends… not boyfriend and girlfriend… not lovers. Normal. Well… not that you could tell someone about it, and they wouldn't stare at you in horror. I mean, I wasn't going to proactively bring it up at parties or anything. But I thought it was something I could confess to if needed.

This, though -- what Sophie was suggesting -- was so close to actual sex with Sophie, I didn't know how to respond. Would I, like, touch her? Would we kiss? Would she grab my butt while I pressed against her?

"Well, we'll have to touch," Sophie answered, "Definitely no kissing, though. And as to your butt, well, you do have a nice ass. But I'll try to restrain myself if you will."

"I don't know, Sophie," I said.

"Pleeeeeease," Sophie said, "If we don't like it, we can stop. I promise it'll be awesome, and I bet it'll feel way better than doing it on the floor. And it won't be anything different than we're already doing. It's almost exactly the same thing. Truly."

"So, you would, like, lie down. And I would be on top of you. And we would sort of, um, align?"

"Exactly," Sophie said. She clapped her hands. Somehow, it seemed, I'd agreed to do this without realising it.

My buxom, beautiful, blonde best friend climbed onto her bed and lay on her back. She patted the comforter, like asking a puppy to jump up and join her for a snuggle. Per usual, Sophie was wearing a t-shirt and tiny shorts. Yellow and green, respectively.

I had on a shirt, as well, and a pair of gray sweat-shorts. The thought of lying on Sophie clearly appealed to one part of my anatomy, because I was already achingly erect. For once, my hard-on was going to be an advantage when we went to press.

I climbed onto the bed. It was oddly soft, like trying to crawl across a Bounce House with fifty kids going to town on it. I dragged myself next to Sophie. Our faces so close, our noses could practically touch.

"Like this," I said.

"Whole body," Sophie said.

I climbed over Sophie. She spread her thighs. Holy fuck. This was oh-so-very-much like fucking. The clothes did not make a damned difference, I swear they didn't.

Sophie seemed to be rethinking her idea, as well. Like the sudden closeness finally brought it home to her about what she was about to do with her best friend. She gave me a nervous smile as I adjusted myself. But she didn't stop me.

Gingerly, I aimed my groin over Sophie's. Then I slowly lowered it down. My hardness pressed into her. I couldn't tell if I had the right spot or not.

"Little higher," Sophie said. "To the left."

Through layers of clothing, I couldn't truly tell whether I was pressing against a leg, a tummy, or a pussy. But Sophie sure knew when I hit her cleft because she let out a long, satisfied sigh.

"There you go," Sophie said. She brushed her long blonde hair out of her eyes. "That's the spot."

Sophie looked up at me, expectantly. Again, we shared an anxious grin.

"OK?" I asked.

"Yes, OK," Sophie said.

I became very aware of her soft, warm body. Her breasts pressing into my chest. Her legs on either side of mine. The smell of her shampoo -- apple-y and sweet. Her full lips and cute little tongue. The endless blue-sky of her eyes. Not a cloud in sight for miles.

Sophie seemed to be examining me in the same way. Her eyes and body adjusting to mine. She put her hand up to touch my cheek, then ripped it away like it burned her.

"Sorry," she said, "Habit."

I didn't have a good sense of Sophie's sexual experience. I knew she'd had boyfriends and I was sure they'd done more than kiss. I didn't bother asking because she was my best friend, and it was none of my business. She certainly never inquired about my (meager) dating history and I was never going to tell her about the kiss I shared with Jessica.

Now, though, intimately on top of each other, I wondered if this was something Sophie had shared with someone else. We say 'virginity' like it's a singular thing and I suppose it can be. But there are all sorts of 'virginities' if you think about it -- an endless number of intimate acts we can experience for the first time. I couldn't help but wonder if Sophie was sharing one of those with me in that very moment. The same way I was giving my own to her.

"You can press," Sophie said, "I'm ready."

I nodded. With my hardness firmly slotted against Sophie, I ground down.

Sophie's eyes flashed. She giggled. Then groaned.

"That's. Definitely. The spot," she said.

"Uh huh," I agreed.

We pushed against each other for as long as we could, then broke. Gasping. Did it again. In some ways, this experience was almost expected. It's what I'd been picturing every time on the floor, after all. And yet it was so different than anything I could have imagined. Beyond my fantasies into something truly unimaginable. Wonderful in every way.

I pressed into Sophie and her hands reached up and gripped my butt, pushing me down into her.

"Sorry," Sophie said, but she didn't stop.

I grabbed her shoulders for purchase, in response. For a moment, I thought about reaching lower. I was afraid that one wrong action would end things. I can't imagine how that would have happened. But in the moment, I swear it made sense.

Sophie's gasps and groans got faster. Our actions more frantic. We worked each other to our release. Unlike before, we didn't talk. We didn't need to. All the stimulation we required was right there, with each other.

"Fuck! Soph! I'm close!" I managed to squeak out.

"Do it," Sophie said, "Let it go."

A moment later, I felt the warm spurting wetness of my ejaculate spill into my shorts. There was something almost painful about it. Strained. The bliss overtook me. I felt Sophie's hand on my head. Stroking my hair lovingly. I became very aware of sharing this intimate, vulnerable thing with Sophie. It made everything more satisfying, yet also scarier.

When I got my strength back, I rolled off of Sophie.

"That was nice," she said, "Thank you for letting that happen."

"Did you...?"

"No… Not really," Sophie said.

"I'm sorry," I said, meaning it.

"No, don't be," Sophie said, "Honestly it was totally awesome. Just different. I loved it."

I nodded, letting myself believe her. If I thought the floor was comfortable post-cum, you can only imagine how nice it felt to be in Sophie's soft warm bed. I let my head loll against the perfumed pillows.

Then Sophie said something that totally blew my mind.

"I think it would be better if we do it without pants next time," she said.

There wasn't a word in that sentence that didn't make my heart race.

________

Fortunately (or not, depending on your perspective), my best friend didn't mean naked, which is what I initially thought she intended.

"No, we need underwear, silly!" Sophie said, clearly trying not to laugh, “We are not going to ruin our friendship by doing something stupid.”

We were in my bedroom this time. Keeping things fresh, I guess. It was a few days after our previous encounter, and I'd spent the entire time on tenterhooks trying to figure out what Sophie had meant by 'without pants.' Obviously, I guessed wrong.

"That would be way too much like actual sex," Sophie explained, as if this were a totally logical way to draw the line. "Also, to be honest we've had to cut back on some necessities because of, well, everything. You know, medical things. So, I'm like, not safe. At the moment. Having at least a layer between me and any of your little swimmers is probably for the best."

"Wow, I'm sorry," I said, "That sucks."

In all that we'd been going through, basic needs like birth control had never occurred to me. I guess being a guy afforded me a few more luxuries than I had realised. I wondered who else in the family was going without at the moment. Things that had never occurred to me.

"It's whatever," Sophie said, "Honestly, it's not the end of the world. Not like I have a boyfriend or anything right now. And Mom thinks we'll be able to get things back to how they were in a few months, so I'll be good to go."

"OK," I said, "Still, is there something I can do to help?"

"Well, you can start by taking your pants off so we can do this properly," Sophie said. I mean, if that wasn't the sexiest thing you've ever heard, what is?

I smirked at Sophie and lowered my bottoms, careful to keep my boxers in place. Sophie shucked off her own shorts and hopped up onto my bed. She lay back, unable to keep from making a silly giggle.

"OK, same as last time," Sophie said.

I wish I could tell you that I was used to being in such close contact with Sophie by then. But getting on top of her was the same disorienting experience all over again. I was dizzy like I'd climbed a mountain, rather than mounted my sexy younger sibling.

I rested my hardness on Sophie's sex. Well, she was right about one thing, pressing with just underwear on was way different. The thin cloth seemed barely able to contain us. I swore I could feel the heat and dampness of Sophie's pussy. I was certain she could feel the warmth of my hard-on. The fly of my boxers never felt so precarious.

I pressed and Sophie moaned. She wrapped her arms and legs around me, holding me close. I became very aware of how much we were bare skin to bare skin… Her legs on mine. I buried my head in the crook of her neck. Her scent overwhelmed me as I ground into her.

"Oh Jeff." Sophie humped up into me. I could tell the pleasure was taking hold of her this time. "This is amazing! You're so good."

Both of us were slick with sweat. My room was already hot, but now it felt like we were baking. My muscles ached. How was this so much work?

"Getting... close..." Sophie said.

I pressed down as hard as I could. Sophie made this strange, high pitched, strained noise. Then punctuated it with a gasp. The effort put me over the top as well. Both of us came hard, wrapped around each other.

When it was over, Sophie smiled and gave me a peck on the lips. I was so enraptured by my orgasm, by Sophie's, I didn't even startle.

"Yup, better with just underwear," Sophie said. She pushed me off of her and I saw an oozing creamy mess emerging through my underwear. I'd left a pretty large mess on her panties and she had a few streaks down her thighs, as well. The liquid was white, so I knew it wasn't only Sophie's lubrication. My sperm seemed to make her soaked panties define her swollen labia… I was struck dumb at the sight!

"Mmmm, it came close. No further, though," Sophie said, "It would be way too dangerous. I better take these off."

I nodded my agreement, eagerly, but she simply laughed and danced into the bathroom to clean up.

________

Despite everything going on with her family finances, there was one area that her parents swore we could not skimp on: their baby sister Lauren's eighteenth birthday party.

They invited everyone we could think of to the house -- family, friends, neighbors -- whoever wanted to come plus quite a few people who probably didn't but showed up anyway. They rented a tent for the backyard, plus tables and chairs. They had catered food, a live band (some of Lauren's high school friends, apparently), the whole thing.

If there wasn't too much food, too many people, and too much noise there was an overabundance of one thing: alcohol. And that's what got me into trouble.

I was invited, of course, and I spent most of my time trying to enjoy myself. In some ways, it was nice, seeing all these people -- family and friends that I'd managed to avoid all summer suddenly felt welcome. At least mostly. Every conversation was tinged with the fear that someone was going to start interrogating me about what was going on with me or Sophie. It gave even the sweetest moments a sour twist.

About a couple of hours into it, I was walking back from the bathroom when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and saw Sophie standing behind me, grinning from ear-to-ear. She was wearing a sleeveless, summery dress with a pink, floral pattern that showed off her curves. Sophie had a beer in her hand and, judging by the look in her eyes, quite a few more in her belly.

"Hey Jeff," she said, a bit too loudly, "There's someone who wants to say 'hi.'"

"OK?"

Sophie took my hand and led me out to the backyard. There had to be at least twenty people out there, impressive considering the size of our lawn. Sophie pulled me straight through the morass to the back, where her sister was lying back in a recliner. She was nursing a beer and her red hair, a gene she shared with her big sister Jessica, hung past her shoulders. She wore it straight and her eyes were sparkling blue like Sophie's. The three sisters only really differed in their figures. Jessica was tall and willowy, Sophie was curvaceous and Lauren was petite. She had the body of a gymnast and rarely stood out in comparison to her older siblings.

"Jeff, you remember Lauren, don't you?" Sophie said, then collapsed into giggles.

Of course I knew Lauren. Lauren was Sophie's eighteen year old sister… the birthday girl. She was a sweet, quiet girl who spent years staring at me as if I had arrived from another planet. She spotted us, and her face lit up. She, like Sophie, had a light dusting of freckles on her fair skin, which went well with her hippie look. Tonight she wore a choker and a crop top with a floral print on it, which, I noticed with a slight twinge, accentuated her smaller breasts beautifully. Clearly the top wasn't conducive to a bra, because her nipples pushed through the fabric in the cool night air. I looked away, scolding myself. Lauren was Sophie's little sister, and though I had always thought she was stunningly beautiful in a wood nymph kind of way, I loved Sophie and was content to admire Lauren only in stolen glances.

"Thank god you're here," Lauren said, hugging us. "I was worried I’d have to talk to more people I don't know. Seems like I've made a lot of new friends."

"You could use a few friends, little sis," Sophie suggested, raising her eyebrow. "And there are a good amount of guys here trying to talk to you."

Lauren scrunched her pretty face up in mock distaste. "Not interested," she said, and I could have sworn she looked at me while she said it.

"You're gonna have to date at some point," Sophie said. It was something she'd talked to me about before, this beautiful sister of hers who didn't seem to want to return anyone's advances. We'd tried setting her up with some of my friends, but she'd always shot them down.

I did my best to say hello and wish her a happy birthday while also ignoring Sophie. The blonde sister was schmoozing around the garden, drunkenly flirting with every guy in turn and demanding that they date her younger sister. I did, indeed, remember Lauren. Lying back in the sun, she was even cuter than my mind had given her credit for. The petite redhead extended her hand, and I gave it a little touch.

"Don't mind Sophie," Lauren said, "She's had a few too many, I fear."

"What about you?"

"Oh, definitely don't ignore me," Lauren said. She gave me a sly smile.

Sophie started laughing even harder somewhere in the background.

"Jeez Sophie, take a breath," I said.

I sat on the end of the lounger and talked to Lauren for a bit. She was back from school for a couple weeks. She had all sorts of fantastic stories about the adventures she would go on when she was old enough. She wanted to escape life in this little town, eat amazing food, and basically having the experience of a lifetime.

"What about you?" Lauren asked, "How's your summer been?"

"Oh, just hanging out," I said, very aware of Sophie's presence. I'm sure my cheeks flushed as I said it.

"Yeah, Sophie told me all about it," Lauren said. My heart slowed. A rush filled my ears. Sophie hadn't told Lauren everything everything, had she? "She said you guys have been sitting around the house watching movies or whatever. Sounds miserable."

"Oh, yes," I said, relief flooding me. "That's exactly what's been happening."

"Well, I can't say it's exactly been bad for you," Lauren said, eyeing me meaningfully, "You look good, Jeff. You filled out."

"Oh, um, thanks," I said, "You do too. Even cuter."

"Cuter, huh?" Lauren said. Her smile radiated warmth. She sighed and her eyes seemed to glaze over. “Do you think I’m cuter than my sisters?”

"OK, OK, meet and greet time is over," Sophie said, breaking in. Her voice abruptly serious. "Come on Jeff, we need to go give Lauren her birthday presents."

"Let's give it to her later, you're in no state to…" I began. Sophie glared at me so hard, I felt my bones begin to crack.” 

"Wait here," I onceded and darted back into the house. When I returned I was carrying two small boxes. "This is for you," I told her.

“Open the bigger box!” Sophie gleefully instructed, “It was my choice… just so lover boy here doesn’t get embarrassed.” 

Lauren sat up and did as she was told, carefully unwrapping the first box. Inside was a very skimpy lingerie set. Sophie was right, she had chosen it, paid for it and I had nothing to do with it. The material looked like silk, quite expensive, and bright red. Lauren held up the lacey bra and panties with a very happy look on her face.

“Thanks, Sophie! You listened! I am in desperate need of some sexy lingerie and this looks… wow!”

I think my face was as red as the underwear.

“I’ll give you a show sometime,” she said, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Maybe wearing that you’ll finally get laid!” Sophe chortled.

“Then maybe you should wear it!” Lauren joked back, “You’re such a prude, Soph! Thank you though. Thank you both.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied as Sophie slumped on the lounger, clearly running on empty. “This is for you, too.” I handed her the second smaller box.

“Jeff chose it, I had nothing to do with it.” Sophie mumbled as she lay back.

Lauren looked dismayed. "I can't accept a gift from you, Jeff," she said.

"Just have a look," I begged.

When she opened the box she found a thin gold necklace that held a small ornament made of two different metals elaborately interwoven. "It's amazing," she said. "What is it?"

"It's a Celtic knot. The two strands are interlaced to form an endless loop. I bought it because it makes me think about how you and your family have become intertwined with my life. You’re the sister I never had… and you only turn eighteen once. I wanted to get you something you could keep."

She caught her breath. "That's beautiful, Jeff. But I can't..."

I interrupted her. "It's a common enough design that wearing it won't mean anything to anyone else, but you'll know what it means to me," I told her. "Please accept it." I took it from her and proceeded to drape it around her neck and engage the clasp.

She stood up and walked over to the window to look at her reflection. "It really is beautiful," she murmured. Then she turned and kissed me. "Thank you, Jeff."

Suddenly her eyes focused on Sophie… who was already out like a light. "She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

I was still reeling from the kiss. Fortunately Sophie hadn’t noiced. She wouldn’t be noticing anything for a short while at least.

“Let’s let her sleep. I need something to eat and I need protecting from all these strangers. Sit with me, Jeff?” 

We stood in the kitchen drinking cold lemonade and chatting. I loved talking with Lauren. She was smart, funny, and a great listener when I droned on about Sophie, or school, or whatever. I always felt so comfortable around her. I often told her things I wouldn't tell my Mom, or even my best friend, and she always gave me excellent advice. She was a little firecracker when she got to know you, but otherwise she was distant and answered to no one.

That particular evening, I was telling Lauren about my YouTube channel and the stream Sophie and I had made the night before.

“Don’t you have a love life?” Lauren slipped into the conversation completely nonchalantly.

“None to speak of…”

“Have you ever thought about… getting it on with Sophie?”

“God no! Of course not.” I replied, probably too defensively.

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I mean you can if you want to but I know she can be… distant. Cold.”

“Sophie is not cold…”

“I meant sexually. She’s such a geek and she’s still a virgin!”

“Are you?” I replied, trying to break the conversation. But she answered immediately.

“Of course I’m not a virgin!” This was news to me! And suddenly, I didn’t know how to take it.

“I know you’re a virgin though,” she said in a lower voice.

“So,” I said, taking a quick sip of lemonade.

“Have you done anything… with a girl?” asked Lauren.

“You know I have. I have told you about every one of my failed relationships.” I said sadly, “Maybe I am just a prude… or maybe I really am just bad boyfriend material.”

Lauren laughed, “Oh, I'm sure it's not you, Jeff.”

“It must be. It's like I have some kind of repulsing special power.” I joked, trying to lighten the conversation.

“You just haven't found what you're looking for yet,” Lauren said.

“I'm not even sure how to keep looking.” I sighed. “Maybe Relationships are not worth the hassle?P

Lauren sipped her drink slowly, and there was a long pause before she spoke.

“Jeff.” She looked me in the eyes. Hers were blue, with patterns identical to Sophie’s. Somehow I'd never noticed that before. “Have you considered that maybe you just aren’t looking in the right places?”

I was a little shocked by her question.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well,” she put her glass down on the counter, 'it seems to me that you spend an awful lot of time with Sophie. Girls are going to keep their distance while you two seem so close. I get that you're not but… you're never going get with anyone else while she is taking up so much of your time. She's never going to put out, and…”

“And what?” I asked, my voice surprisingly quiet.

“And I was wondering... I mean, have you ever thought about you and me?”

“Us? Together?”

Lauren nodded. I had to think before answering. The air between us had changed. The conversation was becoming dangerous, but in an exciting way.

“Yes”' I replied. “I've thought about what it would be like.” Lauren smiled gently and nodded. I felt free to continue. “Like, sometimes, if I see you with your boyfriends I… feel… protective… jealous.” I felt myself blush slightly.

'I’ve thought about you, too,' said Lauren. “Have you ever kissed Sophie?'

“A few times,” then I added to throw her off the scent, “when we were younger.”

It had been a hot day, but until that moment I had not been aware of it. Now I felt my whole body getting warmer. I'd never talked about this with anyone, and I wasn't prepared for how exciting it felt.

“So, when was your first proper kiss with Sophie?” she asked.

I glanced down at Lauren's bare stomach, at the smooth, tanned skin that disappeared into the waist of her shorts. Then I slipped my eyes back up her body, to the swell of her breasts. Her nipples were hard beneath her top.

“We aren’t like that… I haven’t… we haven’t…” I replied, suddenly very nervous. I wasn't sure if she was pressing too far. I wasn't even sure where too far was. She grabbed my hand and led me to the empty dining room.

“Well… I need a proper birthday kiss,” she said, closing the door. “It's something I want to share with you. You’re special, Jeff, and I want to kiss you.”

“I don’t think we should?”

“But it’s my birthday? she pouted, “and you have no idea what it is even going to eel like.” She stared at me with a kind of serious expression. “You just have to experience it to know.”

My stomach was tingling. Neither of us spoke. I put my empty glass down and found myself moving very slowly toward her. We were in a moment. I'm sure you've been there, too. You're with someone, and you both stop talking, and there's this incredible tension in the air because you know what's about to happen, and it's terrifying and wonderful at the same time.

Lauren had been leaning against the table. She stood up straight and turned to face me dead on. I took another step and began to reach out with one hand. I hesitated, and let my arm fall back down. But the look in her eyes made me reach out again, and this time I touched her arm. The simple contact of my fingers on her skin made me feel it was okay. My final step was quicker, and it brought me right to her, mere inches away. I tilted my head, parted my lips, and leaned forward.

My eyes didn't close until our lips met. At first it was a shock, like jumping into cold water. Then my fear blew out like a flame, and it didn't matter anymore that I was kissing Sophie’s little sister. All that mattered was the softness of her skin, the smell of perfume and shampoo, the comfort of her hands on my hips, and the warm, delicate dance of her velvet lips. She was right: it was like nothing I had experienced before.

The first kiss was brief, maybe only six seconds. Our lips separated, and I opened my eyes to gaze into hers. She might have been about to ask me how it felt, when I pressed myself closer and kissed her again. I put my free hand on her waist, my thumb resting against her stomach. My whole body seemed to come alive. My lips were at the center of an electrical storm that raced through me, lighting me up. It was almost more than I could bare.

The second kiss was much longer, and when it was over, I was breathless. Lauren's blue eyes were sparkling. I'd never seen her look more beautiful. That brief moment, as we stood there gazing silently at each other, changed everything for me. It was like admitting to myself all the unformed thoughts and feelings I'd had since I was a little boy; things that I'd been afraid to explore in the naked light of day. After all the fumbling and let-downs of my experiences with other women – though there hadn't been that many – this suddenly felt perfectly right.

Lauren slowly took my hand from her arm and placed it on her bikini top. I was shaking slightly. At first I couldn't move. Then I began to stroke her, curving my hand to the shape of her small breast. I felt the outline of her rigid nipple beneath my palm, and she sighed as I brushed across it. I took notice, and pinched her nipple between my thumb and finger.

“Harder,” she whispered.

I pinched her again, and this time she sucked in breath and bit her bottom lip. I felt a surge of arousal, knowing that I had given her pleasure. For the first time, I could see that I was capable of making someone feel good, on equal terms.

Lauren was breathing hard. She kissed me this time, resting one hand gently on my face. Her other hand moved to my waist, pushing my T-shirt up and holding my side. She caressed me softly at first, then became firmer as she moved up toward my chest. I closed my eyes and let out a fragile moan.

That was when she stopped.

I opened my eyes, my chest rising and falling rapidly, my legs quivering. Her hand was still on my side, but her head was turned slightly away.

“We should stop,” she said.

I panicked. Had I done something wrong? My mind was racing. I felt drunk, and none of it made any sense. All I wanted was for her to keep touching me.

I asked, “Why?”

At that moment the front door opened, and I heard the muffled sounds of her Mom coming into the dining room. I still didn't move. I wanted to cry.

Lauren looked into my eyes. “I want to go further,” she whispered, “if you want to?”

Then she removed her hand and stepped away. I straightened my T-shirt and picked up the empty glasses from the counter. Mom walked into the dining room, preoccupied by the tray of food she was carrying.

“Oh, hi!” she said to Lauren. She looked at me, and I knew that my cheeks must have been flushed. I gave a shaky smile and turned away, back to the dishwasher. “You'll never guess who I just ran into,” her Mom went on.

“Who?” Lauren asked.

And suddenly everything was normal again. her Mom and Lauren talked just as they always did, and I got out of there as quickly as I could and went up to Sophie’s room. As soon as my door was shut I almost collapsed onto her bed. I'd never been so excited, so intensely aroused, in my life. I was dizzy, and I wanted to scream. I closed my eyes and replayed the whole scene in my head, reliving certain details over and over.

When I ventured back downstairs the party was almost over, most of the guests had left. Sophie was still sleeping in the garden and Lauren was saying her goodbyes to her friends.

Jessica caught my arm and told me what a wonderful gift I had bought her sister. Her green eyes seemed to dance and, for the first time, actually looked at me with warmth and respect. Lauren bounded towards us, fingering her necklace and Jessica disappeared into the kitchen. As soon as he was out of sight she planted a huge kiss on my cheek.

“I think my sister is warming to you!”

“Yes, I think she is.” I said, still just as confused as ever.

“Come on, let’s mop up the food before Sophie wakes up with a bad case of the munchies. Mom and Dad are on taxi duty for some of the guests so we will have the dining room to ourselves.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me back into the snug room with the leftovers displayed on the table. As we began to eat, Lauren started to talk.

We talked about Jessca’s recent break up. We talked about some drama her friends were experiencing. All the while, as her right hands were feeding her face… and right foot was casually caressing my leg.

"So what do you know about pleasing a girl, about having sex?" Sophie's little sister asked.

Though now sporting a raging hard-on that filled the front of my boxers, I was still uncomfortable with this conversation. However, I was equally as interested in seeing where it was going.

"I picked up a few ideas from some porno movies and experimented a little… with some ex-girlfriends," I confessed.

"Well," she said, "forget about most of what you have learned from the porno films because for most girls, that's not how it works in real life."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Number one, most girls don't want cum blasted all over their faces. Number two, there's more to it than her sucking you off and you fucking her afterward."

I had never heard Sophie's sister talk like this before, she was being so frank. But, it was definitely a turn-on as I sat across the table from her. Trying to conceal my excitement, I shifted in my seat again so my hardened cock would have some more room in my boxers.

"Ok, tell me more," I encouraged her.

"Girls, at least for me and most of my friends, like to have some attention paid to us as well."

"What kind of attention?"

"Well, one of the best times I had with a guy started very innocently," she began. "We had been making out in my room and he was doing a number on my neck. Nibbling and kissing on my neck and shoulders. It was giving me chills, not to mention making me completely horny."

I could tell from her tone that the memories were still vivid, as her breathing changed slightly and her face became a little flush with color.

"I wasn't planning on doing anything more with him," she continued, "but the more he focused his attention on me without wanting anything right away the more I began to want him."

I so wanted to reach down and rub my cock right then and there, but I was afraid if I did Lauren would freak out or something. So I just sat there, listening intently and contracting my pubic muscles now and then to make my cock move ever so slightly inside my shorts.

"After making out for a little while longer," Lauren continued, "I unbuttoned my blouse for him, figuring he would get the hint."

"Did he?" I asked quickly.

I was having no trouble picturing the scene in my mind as I imagined what he was going to do to Lauren's little, perky tits.

"Oh yes, Jeff," she answered. "He sure did. He undid a few more buttons and took off my top."

"Were you wearing a bra?"

"Nope," she replied, smiling. "I often go without a bra under my tops. It's just one of the advantages of not being too gifted."

My earlier glimpse of her breast confirmed her statement as I was now fully erect and throbbing. All I wanted to do at that moment was to feel my hardness, but I was still able to realise that having this conversation was one thing, playing with my cock while Sophie's sister sat only a few feet away was another thing completely.

"He began to lick my nipples, ever so lightly," Lauren continued. "Then he took one in his mouth and began to gently suck on it."

From my position across the table, I could see she was enjoying her own story. As she shifted in her chair, her pajama top betrayed her erect nipples as they were now pressed firmly against the fabric.

"Do you like having your nipples sucked," I asked cautiously, not sure just how far I could question her before she would decide not to answer.

"Oh yes, most girls do, but don't go all hard and heavy on her nipples all at once. They should be licked or tongued, gently at first, then harder. Same thing goes if you start to suck on them. Vary it up and watch for her reaction. She'll let you know how she likes it, soft or hard or a mix of the two."

I was having a hard time keeping my hand above the table. As I listened intently to Sophie's sister, I reached for my glass and accidentally knocked a fork onto the floor. Leaning down to reach for my utensil, I gave a quick glance under the table at where Lauren sat. My heart nearly jumped from inside my chest as she had her legs spread wide, offering me a view at the now-wet front of her panties. I banged my head on the underside of the table as I quickly sat up, desperately not wanting to get caught staring at Sophie's sister's pussy.

"Dropped my fork," I managed to say as I set it back on the table. I had never looked at Sophie's sister like that before, but found it to be incredibly erotic to see just how much she was enjoying the conversation. I found myself wondering what her pussy looked like underneath those panties. Was she shaved, trimmed or natural? Did she have a tight slit or were her pussy lips full and inviting? Was it sweet smelling or musky in a hot sex kind-of-way?

As if she knew I snuck a peek at her, she gave me a sly smile before replying.

"Well Jeff, you better get another fork then."

"Um, I guess so."

As I stood up from the table, I had completely forgotten about the raging erection that now filled my boxers.

"Mmm-hmmmm," I thought I heard Lauren whisper to herself as I passed by.

"What?"

"I didn't say anything," she lied.

Realising now what she was talking about, I quickly sat down at the table again, not wanting her to see just how turned on I was.

"Now, where were we before I was so rudely interrupted," she teased.

"Um, I think he was sucking on your nipples"

"Oh, yeah," she replied distractedly. "Well, after that I wanted to see just what he was willing to do for me. Now mind you, I really hadn't given him any attention yet."

"Was he getting impatient?"

"Probably, but if he knew what was good for him, which he must have, he kept his mouth shut. Well, at least for a few more minutes anyway."

"What did he do?"

"Well, he unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off. Then he began to lick my pussy through my panties."

"No shit?"

"No shit," she answered. "Now, if you want your girl in the palm of your hand, don't be afraid to go down on her. Because if you do, chances are that she will return the favour at some point."

"Um, how do you... what do you do when you go down on a girl like that?" I asked, feeling somewhat stupid.

"Well, this is one area that your porno experience will come in handy. Each girl is different in what she likes, but me? I like for him to start slow, with long licks of his flat tongue. I like him to flick my clit with his tongue, but not too much, because that makes it really sensitive. Anyway, after he flicks his tongue over it, having him suck on my clit really makes me wild. You know where a girl's clit is, right? It's at the top. Don't worry, you'll find it when you are down there. It's like a little nub at the top of her pussy. Then, I love to be tongue fucked. I love to feel a guy's tongue in my pussy, licking my walls up and down. And don't be afraid to use your hands."

As she continued, she again shifted in her seat, standing ever so slightly as to bring one of her legs up into the chair to sit on. It was then Sophie's sister did something that I never expected, not that having this conversation was, but this went way beyond that. Almost nonchalantly, her hand rose slowly off the table and moved down between her legs. My cock immediately rose even further. Sophie's sister, whether it was a conscious decision or just force of habit, was beginning to masturbate right in front of me.

"Think you can remember all of this?" she teased.

Lauren was looking me directly in the eyes, not blinking or gazing to one side or the other, as she continued to play with herself. She wanted me to know what she was doing as she smiled and licked her lips before continuing. It was definitely a conscious decision.

"After he had worked on my pussy for some time, I was ready to do anything for him," she admitted.

"Nice," was about all I could muster at that point.

"So I returned the favour and took off his pants. And I gave him a blowjob he'll never forget."

For the first time, I imagined my cock in Sophie's sister's mouth, sucking me for all she was worth as she looked up at me with those stunning blue eyes. The sound of Lauren's voice again snapped me from my early morning fantasy.

"I'm going to tell you something, Jeff. As great as most women seem to think huge cocks are for sex, I prefer sucking on one that isn't so big. If it's too big, all it does is choke you and then I can't enjoy what I'm doing, so you're not going to enjoy it as much either. A nice, average sized cock is perfect for sucking. You know, something like yours."

My eyes nearly bulged out of my head when I heard her words. I was so flabbergasted that I couldn't even muster a single syllable.

"Oh, come on," she continued, "I've seen you at the pool enough times to know you're pretty decent down there."

Her comment about my cock blew me away, as did the thought of her eyeing me in my swimsuit. I know Sophie's sister dated quite a bit in high school and college, but I never figured that she would be checking out my penis at the pool, much less make a comment about my size.

"So, did you suck him until he came or did you save it for something else?"

As this point, it seemed like we were trying to outdo each other so I wasn't hesitating to put out some very direct questions.

"Nope, though I have sucked a few guys off until they came. But one thing, if you find a girl willing to swallow, please give her some warning before you pop off. If we are going to swallow for you, I think that's the least you could do."

My cock was raging now, as hard as I could ever remember. Lauren still had her hand between her legs so I didn't see why I should hold back any longer. Watching for her reaction as I moved my hand under the table, her eyes seemed to light up and I definitely heard a soft moan escape her lips as she realised I had taken my hard cock in hand and began to stroke it slowly.

"So what are you going to do now, Jeff?"

"Same as you, Lauren," I replied, smiling.

I slid my chair back from the table so I had a little room to spread my legs out. Reaching down with my free hand, I slid my boxers down and released my cock from the cotton confines. Still fully erect and standing tall, I began stroking myself to an orgasm I never anticipated would be caused by Sophie's sister.

Lauren took my lead and slid her own chair back from the table. Though neither of us could see the other's hand, we both knew there was no turning back at this point.

"So, how do you like to be fucked?" I asked.

Lauren paused a bit before answering as the squishy sounds coming from her wet pussy had betrayed what previously had been subtle fingering. The look on her face told me that she had one, if not more, of her fingers buried in her pussy in an attempt to bring herself to orgasm.

"Mmm, I love riding a nice, hard cock. I love being in control. Deciding how deep I take it. Whether I want to just grind on it or slide my pussy up and down that smooth shaft."

Her words had me on the verge of cumming. As I pictured Lauren riding my cock, I could feel it building inside me, ready to explode.

"Can you feel it when he cums?"

"Oh, yes. It swells right before he ejaculates. When I know he is close, I clench my pussy tight so he can't help but shoot it deep inside me."

My breathing was becoming labored now as I was ready to shoot my load all over the diningroom floor. Pre-cum had dripped down my shaft, providing all the lubrication I needed to finish jacking off.

"Come for me."

Lauren's request was not totally unexpected, but sounded strange nonetheless.

"Make yourself cum for the birthday girl."

My hand began stroking at a feverish pace as I neared my own orgasm. As I quickened my pace, Lauren did likewise as she fingered herself toward relief.

"Mmmmm, I'm cumming,"

As she cried out, Lauren's petite body shook as ripples of pleasure flowed throughout her being.

I watched Sophie's sister's orgasm intently as I stroked myself. She exhibited a sensuality I had never seen in a woman before, much less in Sophie's sister. This exhibition of pleasure was all I needed to meet her demands.

"Uhhhnnnnhhhh, fuck," was all I could manage to say as my cock erupted in a stream of come. I masturbated fairly frequently, but this was more intense than anything I had ever experienced before. Spurt after spurt of white hot spunk splashed onto the floor as I slouched into my chair.

Several minutes passed before either of us could manage to speak. What had been the most erotic situation either of us had probably experienced had now turned into a somewhat uncomfortable silence. Lauren composed herself, rose from her chair and began to walk out of the kitchen. As she looked back at me, still sitting at the table with my cock in hand, she smiled.

"Thank you," was all she said before leaving the room.

________

I headed back into the kitchen but everyone was long gone. Hearing a noise from the stairs I looked up to see Lauren disappear into her bedroom. Then I heard a noise behind me.

“There you are! Oh you’ve been with Lauren. I knew you always fancied her!”

“Sophie, lower your voice!” The blonde sister looked rather disheveled, but still beautiful. Her face however looked like thunder.

"I'm going to get a drink," Sophie announced. She headed into the dining room, grabbing my arm. "And so are you."

"Sorry," I said, as Sophie dragged me away, “You fell asleep…”

“She’s in love with you, dummy!”

I tried to explain about Lauren, but Sophie wouldn't let me.

"Why would you introduce us if you don't want us to talk?" I asked. We were both standing in the dining room. I could swear I could smell the cum her little sister and I had just released in there. Sophie had stepped up to mixed drinks, finishing a rum and coke way too quickly for my liking.

"I thought it would be funny," Sophie said, "You know, after what you told me last month. But instead, you had to go and make it all weird."

"Weird?"

"Flirty," Sophie said, "That's not cool. You can't just, like, come on to my little sister in front of me, OK?"

"I kind of feel like she was being flirty with me," I said.

"Whatever," Sophie said, putting her cup down forcefully. "It's not OK so don't do it."

I should have let it go at that. I can't play dumb; I knew exactly what the problem was. And if Sophie had been flirting with one of my friends I'd have been equally upset. But at that moment, well, Lauren was super cute. And I hadn't lied before, I really had crushed on her pretty hard in high school. To have her get all bothered about me, that was the kind of ego boost I couldn't back off of.

Like Sophie had said, our time together was going to end. We weren't in some forever relationship. So, what if I tried to play the field a little? Was it so wrong to want to be a boyfriend instead of a beating-off buddy? And yeah, maybe I'd had a little more to drink than I'd let on, as well.

So instead of being a supportive friend and letting it go, I pushed the issue. "I can do what I want," I said, "You're not in charge of me."

Sophie scowled at me. "Fine, go back to your red headed slut," she said. I waited for the argument. Wanted it. Instead, Sophie gave me one last angry look, then flounced off. "See if I give a shit."

By then, I was too miserable to care. My big victory had turned to ashes. All I could think about was what I'd said to Sophie. How much I'd lost for what little I'd gained. I searched through the house to find Sophie. But she'd melted away. Finally, after about ten minutes of searching, I found her slumped in the bath.

"Heeeeyyyyyy," she slurred out when she saw me. "It's my favorite best friend."

Oh damn, she was far drunker than before. She staggered out of the bath using my arm to support her and I helped her onto a couch.

"Look, Sophie, I want to apologise," I said, the words spilling out of me.

"Don't worry about it, Jeff," Sophie said, "Come sit with me."

I nestled next to her on the couch. Sophie immediately lolled over me, clumsily wrapping her arms around my shoulders. Her soft chest pressed into mine.

"Ummm, Sophie?"

Sophie ignored my half-protest. We were cuddling very intimately on the couch. The house was empty, Jess had disappeared into the night and Lauren was in her room. This was way beyond friend-level affection, and I was too worried about getting caught to be relieved that my earlier transgressions seemed to have been forgotten.

Sophie squeezed me tight, then shifted so our faces were nearly touching. Sophie moved in to kiss me. Not a kiss on the cheek, nor a little peck on the lips like Sophie, herself, had once done. Like Lauren, Sophie had shifted straight into make out mode.

I did my best to slip from her grip before Sophie could complete the kiss. She was surprisingly strong, but I managed to escape. She grabbed me again, though, and held me centered. She leaned in again, this time pressing her lips to my ear.

"I want you to make love to me," Sophie said. Her tongue tickling on my sensitive flesh.

"What?! Sophie, no," I said.

Again, I pushed her off me. Did I want to have sex with Sophie? My conscious mind, my rational aspect, had already decided no. That what we were doing might be dangerous but full intercourse with my best friend was straight up wrong and so wouldn't happen.

But in my heart (and other places further south), I had to confess that the answer was yes. Yes. Oh fuck yes!

In that moment, though, that choice didn't matter. Sophie was too smashed for me to trust her. I didn't want her having regrets. Instead, I forcefully pushed her off me. Sophie fell back into the couch.

"I want to FUCK!" Sophie cried out, throwing her arms in the air. I looked around the room, but fortunately no one else heard her. Or at least they were polite enough to pretend they hadn't.

"Sophie, please be quiet," I said.

"Quiet me," Sophie said, "Stick that big dick inside and shut me up. Make me scream your name. Give it to me, Jeff. I need it."

"No," I said. I held Sophie forcefully by the shoulder.

"You don't want me?" Sophie asked. She shifted from lusty to sniffly in a second. It was a frighteningly fast transformation.

"You're drunk," I said.

"I'm fine," Sophie said, starting to stand up. "I thought you cared about me, but I guess I was wrong."

"I do care about you," I said, "I do want you." God it was hard to confess to it, but I knew I had to. It was freeing to finally speak it. Like jumping out of a plane. Thrilling and terrifying all at once. Heart racing. Stomach twisting. "But not like this."

"Why not?"

"You've had too much to drink," I said, "I won't take advantage of you. If you feel this way, sober, in the morning. We'll do it."

"I want it now," Sophie said, pouting. "This is your one chance, Jeff. You turn me down, you'll never get this pussy. You wont pop my cherry. You’ll never see my big tits or my sweet body. Don't you want it? Don't you want to fuck me? Give it to me good? Fill me up with all your naughty little spermies?"

"I do," I said. Well, maybe not that last part. Getting Sophie pregnant seemed like a really bad idea. But the rest of it? Yeah, I was up for that. But not if Sophie might not mean it.

"Then do it, or I'll find someone else who will," Sophie said.

Again, I searched the room while Sophie spoke, desperately hoping that no one could hear. I needed to get her out of there before she got herself in serious trouble. I wrapped my arm around her back and lifted her off the couch.

"Where are we going?" Sophie slurred as I slowly walked her back towards the stairs.

"Time for bed," I said.

"Finally!" Sophie said, "Took you long enough."

"Not like that," I said, "You need to sleep it off."

"What's the matter, Jeff, am I not hot enough for you?" Sophie asked, then belched. Her breath smelled like a still.

"Let's just get you some rest, OK?"

I helped Sophie up the stairs and led her back to her bedroom. The further we went, the slumpier she got, until I practically had to carry her through her doorway. Carefully, I lowered her onto her bed. She grunted lightly as she hit the mattress and then sighed, smacking her lips with sleep.

For a moment, a protective and perverse part of me considered stripping her out of her party outfit. But I decided it was probably safer to let her sleep it off in her dress. I ran off to the bathroom, grabbed a wastebasket, and put it next to her bed.

"If you need to throw up…" I told Sophie. She was already halfway to dreamland.

"You have to fuck me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I wasn't even sure if she was aware she was talking to me.

"In the morning," I said.

"No," Sophie said, grabbing my arm so tight, it felt like an eagle latching onto a branch. Her eyes went wide and suddenly she was wide awake. "Now! Do me right this second or it's over between us. You can go back to stroking it all by your sad self. I swear to God, it's now or never."

"Fine, we'll do it now," I said.

Sophie smiled at me, then softened. She let her head lay back on the pillow again. "Thaasss a good boy," she murmured. "Ravish me."

"I just need to get a condom real quick and I'll come right back."

"OK," Sophie said. Her eyes were already fluttering shut. "Come back and give it to me. So good."

I extricated my arm and tiptoed back from the bed. Sophie's eyes were shut. She was still murmuring, but I was pretty sure she was passed out or close to it.

When I got to the door, she repeated my name. I froze.

"I love you, Jeff," Sophie said, absently.

"I love you, too," I said.

"No, I mean I love you love you," Sophie said.

"Yes," I said, "Me too."

A moment later, Sophie went completely silent. I waited to make sure, then slipped back outside of her bedroom.

________

I never did find a condom but when her Mom and Dad returned a short time later I explained what had happened and they thanked me for being such a gentleman. Jessica wasn’t going to be coming back home so they offered me her bed to sleep in and I must admit… I was pretty exhausted. That had been a roller coaster of a day.

It was well after two in the morning when I climbed between Jessica’s perfumed sheets. It had been a long night and I was ready for a good night's sleep. The house was completely dark as everyone had apparently gone to bed. I was exhausted, but wide awake. My mind raced with everything that had happened with Sophie -- all that we'd said and done. And hadn't done.

Eventually I guess I fell asleep because the next memory I have is of someone knocking on Jessic’s bedroom door. It felt like they were beating on my skull. Too much alcohol and not enough sleep had left me in quite a state.

Carefully, I got up from bed. I realized I'd never changed out of my slacks and dress shirt from the night before. I limped to the door in the early morning light.

Sophie was on the other side, looking quite a wreck herself. Her dress was half off her shoulder and her golden blonde locks were sticking up all over the place, like a cruel parody of the big hair you'd see in an 80s TV show.

"Hi," Sophie said, looking down at her feet. "I think I threw up last night. In a trash can."

"I left it there for you," I said.

"I thought so," Sophie said, "I don't remember a lot of last night."

"You got drunk," I said.

"Figured that part out," Sophie said. She pushed past me and then dropped onto my bed. I was pleased to see (and smell) that she was at least vomit-free. She snuggled into the pillows. "I hope I didn't do anything too embarrassing."

"You really don't remember?" I asked. I sat down next to her. Sophie quickly shied away. Like I'd shocked her.

"I remember drinking a lot," she said, "Last night was hard. It was super uncomfortable to be around those people and realise they have their own lives. You know? Like, when we needed help, where were they? But when we throw a party, they all show up."

"I know," I said, "It was hard for me, too. Do you remember bringing me over to say 'hi' to Lauren?"

"Sort of," Sophie said. She snuggled into my pillow more. "I remember Lauren and I were talking, and she saw you. She said you'd gotten, like, super-hot. I'm sorry, Sophie. I thought about what you'd told me before. About how you'd think about her when we... It made me jealous. I know it shouldn't have. It's not fair, but it did."

"It's OK," I said, "I think I'd feel the same way if one of my friends was perving on you."

"Or if Randy Hotguy was at the party, putting the moves on me?" Sophie asked. She gave me a smirk and, despite it all, she looked so beautiful lying on her big sisters bed in the morning sun.

"Yeah, fuck that guy," I said.

"Well, I kinda couldn't handle it with Lauren," Sophie said, "So I told myself it was funny, instead, and tried to make a whole joke out of it. And then you were flirting with her for real and I got really upset. Like, even more than before."

"I'm sorry," I said, "I shouldn't have done that."

"Of course, you should have!" Sophie said, giving me a shove. "She's a hot girl and she's totally into you. You don't owe me anything, I'm your friend. I don't have any right to get in your way."

"Still, though," I said, "I could tell it was hurting your feelings."

"Yeah, so I went to go drink more after that," Sophie said, "And then I woke up in my own bed. I guess you helped me. I didn't, um, do anything else, did I? Nothing embarrassing?"

I looked down at the hardwood floor. "You're fine," I said.

"Oh no," Sophie said, "I didn't hook up with some dude, did I? Or worse, one of our stupid, ugly cousins?"

"No, nothing like that," I said.

"Come on Jeff, what happened?"

"You don't remember any of it?" I asked.

"I swear I don't," Sophie said.

"I, um, well I found you sitting on the couch. And you kind of, um, propositioned me."

"Propo-wha?"

"You told me you wanted to have sex. With me. Right there."

"Oh shit."

"You were, um, kind of explicit, being honest," I said.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," Sophie said, "Look, Jeff, that whole thing about 'truth-in-alcohol,' you know that's not true, right? Like, I don't want to. It's not that I don't think you're... Oh, Goddammit."

"It's OK," I said, "I get it. You were drunk. I knew it too. You don't have to explain yourself."

"But you didn't," Sophie said, "I mean, we didn't have sex."

"No."

"Even though I kind of forced myself on you?"

"Not gonna lie," I said, "You didn't make it easy." I intentionally eyed Sophie's body and she immediately understood. "But no. I figured, if it was something you wanted, it could wait till we were both sober."

"Thanks Jeff," Sophie said. She sat up and kissed me on the cheek. All things considered, her breath wasn't all that bad. "I'm sorry I said those things to you. I shouldn't have. Look, I don't want to hurt your feelings. You know I care for you a lot. And what we've been doing, I mean, it's awesome. But we aren’t going to do that. No matter what I said in the moment."

"No, I get it."

"You're not mad?" Sophie asked.

"No, I agree," I said, "That's too far. Even for us."

"OK. Thanks. Seriously," Sophie said, "I know a lot of guys wouldn't... Anyway, I'm lucky to have you in my life."

"I'm lucky to have you, too."

We shared a quick, chaste hug. It felt nice to hold my curvy best friend in my arms. I could feel myself responding so I stepped back. An erection was not at all appropriate for that moment.

"I'm going to go clean up," Sophie said as we broke. "I need to apologise to Lauren for getting smashed on her birthday. Buy Mom and Dad a replacement trashcan. Make a fresh commitment to Jesus."

"I support your new life choices," I said.

Sophie got up and tousled my hair. "You should clean up, too," she said, "You look like crap."

It seemed a lifetime ago since Lauren and I had masturbated for each other, but neither one of us had made the slightest mention of it the next morning. I helped her parents clean the house while Sophie nursed her hangover with the help of her little sister. 

There had been a few awkward moments over the next few days after our conversation, the relationship between Lauren and I had returned to normal, with Lauren doing her thing and me doing mine. I had chalked the whole experience up to a couple of horny kids who let a conversation about sex go way too far.

Things slowly settled back into normal. Well, almost normal, in any case.

We spent the whole day cleaning the house -- it was quite an undertaking after the evening before. Sophie was clearly not the only person to have gotten a little out of hand.

As I was wiping down the dining room table, and the sister’s working on the living room, their Mom pulled at my elbow. She motioned for me to join her in the kitchen. She looked very serious -- her mouth turned down like it was meant to make that shape.

"I saw what happened with you and my daughter last night," her Mom said.

Oh no.

"Oh God, I can..."

"I just want you to know," their Mom continued, breaking through me like a battering ram. "I'm really proud of you."

"Wait, what?"

"Sophie was way too drunk last night. You saw what was happening and stepped in. Took care of her."

"Oh, yes," I said, "Yes, I did."

"You're a good friend," she said, "I know this has been hard on you. It's been rough on all of us. But throughout it all, I think you've managed to do just be there for her… for them. You've been steady, a rock the whole family can rely on."

"Thanks," I said. I hadn't realised that she saw me that way. I'd never thought about things from that perspective.

"You've given up a lot. I'd understand if you needed time, you know, to let your guard down, or whatever. Blow off some steam. But in the meantime, I want to thank you. For everything. You’re already a part of this family, remember that."

"It's fine," I said.

It truly was.

The next day marked the last week in August. Her parents and Jessica went back to work. Lauren started going out with friends for her last, pre-high school, hurrahs. For our part, Sophie and I hung out but not like before. She insisted she didn't remember what had happened the night of the party, but the change in our relationship was there, just the same.

Finally, a full three days following the incident, Sophie jutted her chin my way and we ended up in her bedroom. We didn't touch each other or speak; we went back to the basics. A quick press and that was it. But it felt like a breakthrough.

"Turns out being behaved is kind of boring," Sophie said with a shrug after we'd both peaked. I had to agree with her, of course. I assumed that was it, and we'd go back to this way of existing for a little while longer.

But something was different. The idea of intercourse had entered our minds. We'd joked about it before. Taunted and teased. Now though, it felt more like a when than an if. Even though neither of us would admit it to ourselves. Let alone each other.

________

Once again I had been invited to Sophie’s house. She was home alone and thoughts of just how far the boundaries of our friendship could be tested flooded my mind. I wanted her. I loved her. But I also loved and respected her family. The door ws unlocked and I let myself in, heading up the familiar stairs. Sophie was in her bedroom when I saw her. She was wearing a pair of red, bikini cut panties, a yellow blouse, and nothing else. She was lying on her tummy on the floor, facing the far wall, her legs kicked up in the air. Golden hair pooled on the carpet. She had on her headphones, listening to music, and was lost to the world. But to me it looked exactly like she was pressing.

I don't know why I did it. Well, I know why. But not why that moment or why that way. I stepped into Sophie's room. I knelt behind her. And before she became aware of my presence, I climbed on top of her, lowering my shorts-clad crotch onto her panty-covered bottom.

Sophie gasped, then stilled. I waited for her to throw me off, to tell me no, but she didn't. Sophie held in place. My hard-on poking into her perfect ass.

I took it as permission and pressed down. I heard Sophie gasp as the first bits of pleasure filled me. The softness of her bottom, the warmth of her body, it was perfect for what we were doing. Sophie arched herself upward to meet my thrusts.

"Jeff," she said, and I knew that she was about to put a stop to this. I lifted myself off her ass. "This would be better with just underwear."

I froze. Obviously, I wasn't expecting that. I took off my shorts and tossed them to the side. Now in boxers, I leaned back down on top of Sophie. Grinding down, I had to admit this did feel way better. The danger of it only amplifying what we were doing.

We lay like that, moving against each other. When we'd done this before, there had always been this sense of urgency. Even when we had all afternoon to get off, we always raced through.

This time, though, was different. We took our time. I don't know whether it was the position we were in, or the feelings we'd expressed, but we didn't rush. It was almost leisurely. The two of us slowly grinding against each other, savoring every sensation.

But something else was also happening. The previously mentioned precarious nature of the fly of my boxers meant that, as I humped into Sophie's ass, my penis was starting to pop free. I could feel the fabric of Sophie's panties tickle the skin of my dick with each press.

Sophie must have felt it too. She reached back with her hand, stopping our coupling. I thought, once again, that she was drawing the line.

Instead, she pulled her panties down her legs and tossed them off. She lay back down on her tummy.

"Sophie, are you sure?" I asked. The argument roiled inside me; I could almost picture a chivalrous knight fighting a crazed barbarian. A funny metaphor for what I was feeling. And I'm sure you can figure out who was winning.

Sophie tapped her headphones, as if to say that she couldn't hear me over her music. I supposed that was my answer. I took off my own underwear. Both of us were now naked from the waist down. I lay down on top of Sophie. My cock nestled in that most precarious of places.

Bare skin to bare skin. I could feel the heat of her pussy, emanating out like a tiny sun. My hardness against her soft, wet spot. I didn't need to move; this was already beyond anything I'd ever felt.

But I did move. I pressed down. Sophie rubbed up at the same time. The two of us groaned in unison. We didn't need words. We humped against each other. Totally connected. Well, almost totally. Our bodies decided to fix that distinction for us.

The first time, the head of my penis grazed Sophie's pussy so slightly, I hardly noticed.

The second time, my dick actually held for a moment, right at the entry to Sophie's pussy, before slipping away.

The third time, my cock actually went inside. No more than an inch. Barely the head of my head. And yet.

Both of us froze there. Right on the precipice of penetrative sex. I waited for Sophie to tell me 'no.' I waited for my own conscience to cry out. None of that happened. Instead we both sat up.

Sophie was blushing but determined as she started undoing the buttons of her blouse.  I was getting lucky. Once Sophie's blouse was off and she had slipped off her headphones, she seemed to freeze, not knowing what to do next. Manfully I stepped into the breach, first unclipping her bra.

I think I mentioned that she was a very attractive package. Naked, I have to upgrade that rating and mark her as sensational. It was at this point that I decided to deviate from her planned course and start prodding around the edges of a situation too good to be true.

I sat on the side of her bed, smiling and letting my appreciation of Sophie's figure show. I reached out and took her hand and drew her towards me. She was trembling like a deer, wondering if the wolf pack was closing in.

Still smiling, I suddenly flipped her across my knee and spanked her hard, giving her half a dozen solid smacks on her pretty little tush.

I then flipped her around again, sat her on the bed and glared at her.

"Now, sweetheart," I said, "you will tell me precisely what you think you're doing and why you're doing it. You can tell me sitting there, or you can tell me while you're across my knee having your bottom spanked, but tell me you will."

Sophie was astounded. I was supposed to be kissing and seducing her, or being seduced by her, not spanking her and making demands.

She dithered for a moment, and tried to bluff, but as soon as I went to put her across my knee again she collapsed and started crying and trying to talk through the tears.

Not understanding a word she was saying, all I could do was draw her to me and hold her while she cried on my shoulder. Not that this was any hardship. I defy any man to not feel really masculine when a delectable and naked young woman is cuddling you and crying in your arms.

Eventually the crying stopped and Sophie seemed ready to talk, so I sat back, prepared to listen.

"It's Lauren," Sophie told me.

"Lauren?"

"She asked me if she could date you… and by date you, she meant-," she said.

“I understand. It’s ok. I’m not going to have a relationship with your sister if it means losing you.”

"I was wondering what to do," Sophie continued, "and then I realised I have been denying you… denying myself… all these years."

I was speechless. But not for long. I thought the whole thing over and then told her in a calm and considered way that I thought she might be making a little error.

“We don’t need to do this just because you fear losing me. I am always going to be here for you.” 

Sophie was crying again now, but also looking belligerent.

"Just go away," she said. "It's my problem and I'll work it out."

"No. I'm your problem. In case you haven't noticed, you're naked, and I’m naked and we need to talk this through."

"I want you to choose me..."

"Now that I know what you’re worried about, I'm quite willing to go along with you to a point. Are you prepared to listen to my suggestions?"

Sophie glared at me, but nodded.

"OK. Earlier, you were gritting your teeth and preparing to lie back and think of giving me something so very precious because of your sister. Now you are much more relaxed, assuming that it is not going to happen, and you've been too upset with everything to even remember why we do this."

Sophie flushed at this point and covered her breasts, but didn't really resist when I gently pushed her hands back down away from them.

"Now what I propose is that I will make love to you for a while, getting you used to having a man touch you and letting you get used to touching a man. We don't have to have sex. We can always leave that for another time.But I am not going to just be a one night stand. If we start making out tonight, I will expect to see you every night for at least the next week. Then when we do make love, you will have some idea of what you're doing and, on subsequent days, I'll be able to teach each other more."

"But we won't be having sex tonight?" Sophie said.

"Not unless you really want to," I told her. "Are you on the pill?"

When she shook her head the next question was obvious.

"Did you do anything about getting yourself some condoms?"

At her shocked look, I assumed no.

"So how did you intend to protect yourself from unwanted pregnancy?"

The thought had obviously never crossed her mind. All she had been concentrating on was getting her hands, and other parts, onto the object of her little sister's desires.

"It doesn't matter right now," I told her. "Do you… want to be in a relationship with me?”

“Yes, Jeff. Are you prepared to give us a go?"

I spent some time thinking. Her initial plan had been to get laid and then get me out. Now she had to consider if she was willing to spend the week learning about sex, and us becoming more than just friends. I finally nodded.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked, and I could see her nerves and the fear of the unknown emerging, along with a flicker of interest. She was finally starting to get curious about what was going to happen.

"I am going to sit down and enjoy the cup of coffee we're going to make together," I said. "No, don't worry, you won't need to get dressed to make it. You can do it while undressed and it will help you to relax with being nude in front of me. Besides," I added, "you have a nice figure and I like looking at it."

Finally, a bit of her spirit started to re-emerge.

"If I have to make it naked, then it's only fair that you should be naked as well," she said defiantly, "so I can get used to seeing a naked man."

I bowed my head in acknowledgement and removed all my clothes. Sophie was blushing, but not backing down, and she watched with interest as I stripped. She blushed even deeper as she realised I still had an erection, and she looked pointedly elsewhere.

We returned to the kitchen where I sat and watched while Sophie made the coffee.

Who knew that having a cup of coffee could be so erotic?

Sophie started off slowly, trying to hide her body while she worked, knowing that she was naked and being watched by a naked man.

And then it slowly dawned on her that she was NAKED and that she was being WATCHED by a NAKED MAN. Her breast swelled slightly, causing her nipples to become erect and her breasts and nipples brought themselves sharply to her mind. Suddenly Sophie was standing slightly straighter, throwing her shoulders back a little and projecting her bosom.

I suspected from the way she started to sway when she walked that she was also starting to get hot and wet, and was becoming even more acutely aware of herself and the fact that I was watching her. And she was enjoying it. It was exciting and it was turning her on.

I have to admit that Sophie's gathering excitement was also turning me on. Even more so, I should say, as I'm sure my cock set some sort of record for instant erection when I first saw her naked.

Anyway, we sat and enjoyed our coffee, and if Sophie seemed to need to pick up her cup and replace it every few sips, with the accompanying swaying of a pair of lovely breasts, what could I do but enjoy the show?

All good things must come to an end, and eventually we finished our coffee. Sophie put the cups on the sink while I just pushed my chair back a little from the table.

When Sophie turned from the sink to look at me, I just held out my hand to her while continuing to sit. Sophie walked towards me and took my hand and I drew her close and directed her gently down onto my lap.

I could see she was a little nervous about having my erection pressed into her side, but I ignored it, just turning her face slightly to face me so that I could kiss her. This time, the tension that had been there earlier was gone, replaced by an honest curiosity.

We just kissed naturally, with me holding her gently, until by some chance my hand reached up and cupped Sophie's breast. She froze for a moment, waiting, but when I did nothing more she resumed kissing me.

Very soon I was playing freely with her breasts, taking it slowly and letting Sophie get used to the feelings my hand coaxed out of her, enjoying hearing her gasp as I pinched her nipples slightly.

It seemed right after a while to drop my head to her breast and start kissing them lightly, tonguing them and sucking lightly on her nipples. With my hands now being in the way I just let it slip down Sophie's body until it was resting in her lap.

Sophie promptly dropped her hand to cover mine, not wanting it to go exploring just yet, but that she quickly found was an error. I promptly guided her hand around to where my erection was pressing lightly against her side, and directed it to touch me.

Sophie let her hand just lie next to my erection, feeling it pressing against her hand but not actually taking hold of it. My hand drifted back to her lap and was gently stroking her mons, with the occasional bit of pressure to pass the message deeper into her.

I continued nibbling and paying attention to Sophie's breasts, not rushing anything, not trying to ease her thighs apart so I could explore deeper, and not pressuring her to actually do anything to my cock.

After a while I could hear her breathing tense a little as she made a decision, and then her hand closed smoothly over my cock and started to explore it. At the same time her thighs relaxed a little more so there was room for me to slip my hand between them if I wanted to.

If I wanted to? Of course I bloody wanted to, but the time wasn't right. I continued to take things slowly, letting Sophie's excitement build, creeping up on her, not charging up and scaring her.

I also wanted to tell her the sort of things she could be doing to my cock with that little hand she had holding it, following with suggestions describing the things a warm and wet mouth could also do to me. And I would, sometime during the coming week, I most definitely would.

Instead, I suggested that maybe we would be more comfortable in her bedroom, where we could continue her education lying down.

This time I escorted her to the bedroom, gently walking her in and easing her onto the bed, where I lay down beside her.

"Now," I murmured, "if I remember correctly, I was getting acquainted with your breasts."

Leaning over her, I again started to muzzle her breasts, maintaining a nice tension in them. At the same time I shifted my position so that her hand fell onto my erection, apparently of its own accord, and Sophie again started her hesitant exploration.

The main difference now was that my hand was extending its reach, happily sliding between Sophie's thighs, pressing and stroking her labia, lightly scratching her inner lips as she slowly flowered under my touch, encouraging deeper exploration. Deeper exploration is what she got.

It wasn't long before my fingers were delving between her lips and pressing inside her, tracing along her inner paths. She gasped when I pressed a finger lightly against her hymen, knowing that the only time she'd be closer to losing her virginity would be when it actually happened.

Moving away from her hymen and vaginal passage, my fingers drifted around inside her, finally touching on and teasing Sophie's clit. She gave a little scream when I did that, her hips lifting off the bed in shock. She dropped my cock at this point, trying to concentrate on the teasing I was doing with her clitoris, not knowing if she should be demanding I stop or begging for more.

From the slight groan she gave when I drew back, I suspect she wanted to demand more.

At this stage I reached off the bed and groped for my trousers. Or to be more precise, the pocket of my trousers and the little packages I had in there. I extracted those little packets and tossed them onto the bedside table, bar one which I kept.

"At some stage," I said as I relaxed next to her, "you're going to have to work out how to put one of these on a boy. Why don't you try it with me?"

Sophie looked at the condom and then at my cock and blushed, but as I mentioned earlier, she had spirit. She glanced at the instruction on the packet and then took me in hand and started rolling it on as though she'd done it a hundred times before. She had it over half on before she gave a little jerk, and turned to look at me with her eyes opened very, very, wide.

It had suddenly dawned on her that the only reason she had to put a condom on me was because it was going to be needed. Her eyes switched back to the task she was doing, and she completed it and then sank back onto the bed without looking at me.

“Jeff, there’s something else?”

“What’s that?”

“I meant what I said.”

“When?”

“When I propositioned you for sex.” She looked directly into my eyes, “I’m in love with you.”

“I meant it too… I love you, ophie.”

"Wait...wait," she said, exhaling heavily, trying to catch her breath, "just… one second."

"Is everything ok?" I was very confused, and not in the mood to be teased.

"Everything's perfect Jeff, it's just...if we do this," she moved her hair from her face, " if we have sex, we can't go back. What I wanted to tell you was… I love you. Not in a family way and not as a friend, but I'm in love with you. Are you ready for that?"

"Sophie," I looked into her deep blue eyes, I couldn't break my gaze, "I have loved you for so long… and I'm prepared to love you everyday for the rest of my life."

"No one can know, Jeff. We have to keep this a secret. My sisters couldn't handle it."

"I know, I know… I'm ok with that as long as you are."

“Then I am ready for you… lover.”

“We don’t have to-”

“Fuck me…” she breathed.

I hooked one of her ankles with one of mine and gently but steadily moved her legs a lot further apart. Her body responded smoothly, and I could tell that although physically she was ready, mentally she still wasn't sure.

I moved between her legs, positioning myself for what was to come, and then I reached up and turned her head so that she was looking directly at me. Keeping my eyes firmly on her, I pressed my erection against her slit, moving it slightly to ease her lips a little further apart, then pressing the head slowly between her lips and into her.

Sophie was looking at me, hard, wanting to look down and watch was happening to her body, but also desperate for the encouragement I was giving her. I wasn't sure what I was saying but it obviously worked, as a tiny smile flittered across her face before a look of concentration came upon it.

I could feel her hips lifting slightly, encouraging my entry, assisting me to push home and down a warm tight passage. I don't think either of us really noticed when I pushed past her hymen, brushing it aside like a stray cobweb. Sophie may have winced slightly, but she was concentrating too hard on these new and exciting feelings to worry about a little twinge of pain.

Now that I was in Sophie I was quite content to just rest for a moment, enjoying the feel of her surrounding me. Sophie, for her part, also seemed happy to just rest, getting used to the feeling of having a man inside her.

We lay quietly, joined together, neither speaking. Then Sophie took a big breath and wriggled slightly against me, wanting more than just having me there, even if she wasn't sure what the more she wanted was. In return, I wriggled slightly back at her, laughing at her sudden intake of breath.

Deciding the time for more vigorous action had come, I slowly pulled out, watching Sophie's eyes widen at the slow drag of my cock inside her, and then hearing her give a little cry as I thrust sharply back inside her.

Again I did a slow withdrawal with a sharp return, feeling Sophie starting to move in unison with me. Soon I was moving faster, setting up a nice rocking motion, getting Sophie to match me as I moved.

I'm not sure what I was saying to her, but I was whispering words of encouragement as Sophie thrust herself up to match whatever I was doing. We fell into a steady rhythm, letting our own pleasures blossom and grow while contributing to the enjoyment of each other.

The foreplay we had indulged in had left Sophie's body ready for the culmination, and now that we were actually in session, so to speak, her climax was coming up fast.

Not quite fast enough for me, however, as I could feel my own climax rushing down upon me, and I was in no mood to try to hold it off. Thrusting sharply, I still managed to slip a hand between us, darting my finger into Sophie and flicking her clit again.

The extra touch was like lighting the fuse. She screamed and exploded under me, while my own climax hammered into her.

Afterwards we lay for a while, still joined, relishing the quiet contentment coming from pleasure mutually shared.

Then I withdrew, making a quick trip to the en suite to remove the condom and cleaning myself before returning with a warm cloth and towel so that I could help Sophie clean up.

Then we resumed the quiet lying together, neither interested in speaking.

Sophie was half asleep, cuddling me, when I asked her the question.

"Would you like me to go home now, or would you rather I stay the night? I'd rather I spend the night here, and we can continue this in the morning."

Sophie didn't actually say either way, she just opened her eyes a bit wider and smiled, then snuggled closer holding me there. I didn't fight it.

________

'Wake up Jeff. We did it! We’re no longer virgins!"

I looked at the clock beside my bed and groaned. It was only 3am. Sophie moved her body over mine on the bed and grabbed my wrists. She leaned forward and began to lick my face. I always hated when she did that when we were kids. I began to buck my hips to push her off me. Suddenly Sophie gave a jump and pulled her face away from mine. She got a devilish look on her face. I looked from her face to her chest for a fraction of a second. She was still completely naked.

Suddenly Sophie was leaning in and I thought she was going to lick me again. My hips shot up again and Sophie ground down against me. Now I knew what had caught her attention. I had morning wood and when I bucked against her she felt it hit her. She locked her lips to mine and began to kiss me. She kept trying to push her tongue into my mouth and I was slowly losing my resolve.

Sophie was grinding her pussy against my cock as it strained against her vulva. Sophie began to moan and I opened my lips and let her tongue invade my mouth.

Sophie's grip on my arms loosened and instead of pushing her off I slid my hands under her, found her breasts and a second later her nipples. I began to stroke and lightly pinch her nipples while our tongues twined together and her hips ground against my hard on.

I kept playing with her tits as we kissed. I took my right hand and slid it slowly down her belly until I found the top of her panties. She let me roll her over to her back as I began to stroke her clit before finding her gash with my middle finger.

"Suck my nipples again, Jeff."

I moved down and sucked her left nipple into my mouth I flicked the pebble like nub a few times with my tongue before nipping it between my teeth and pulling away gently. Sophie pushed her hips against my finger as I inserted into her pussy.

I threw the sheet off my body and Sophie began to drool at the sight of my throbbing member, She gripped it tight in her hand and began to stroke it slowly.

"If you do that too much longer I'll cum all over the bed." I warned her.

She released my cock long enough to strip her sodden panties and then she had me in hand just a millisecond before she had me in her mouth. There was no slow encapsulation, Sophie swallowed my member whole. I felt the head bump against her soft palate just before her throat opened and accepted it. She had both hands on my hips and was directing me fuck her face.

I was in heaven as Sophie licked and sucked my cock with the head going into her throat every three or four strokes. I was on the edge of blowing my load.

"I'm going to cum, Sophie."

She just kept sucking away like I hadn't said a thing. My balls started to tingle and my cock got thicker. Sophie held my cock in her throat as the first jet of cum shot out. Then she pulled back keeping a tight seal with her lips as I kept pumping jet after jet of cum into her mouth. I could feel Sophie swallowing while I came. When I was totally spent Sophie sucked even harder as she milked the last drops of cum out of my shaft.

Before she could say a word I grabbed her hips and flipped her to her back just before diving in to lick her pussy. I lifted her hips with my hands to give me better access to the whole slit. My tongue was moving up and down and in and out. I found her clit and began to focus all my teasing there as I worked my left hand free so I could plunge my fingers inside her. Sophie was moaning non stop as I worked my magic with my tongue. Suddenly my hearing went dead as she clamped her thighs to my head and Sophie's whole body went rigid as she had her first orgasm of the morning.

I stopped everything until she relaxed her hold on my head. Once I could move I slid up her body and kissed her mouth hungrily, Sophie turned around and went down on all fours. I knelt behind her, reached down and put the head of my cock at the entrance to her pussy and I thrust inside in one fast push.

"Yes, let’s do it like this!."

I just nodded and went in for another kiss. Gradually Sophie began to roll her hips. I took my cue and began to thrust in and out matching her rhythm. I sucked her right nipple into my mouth and Sophie cried out my name as she had another small orgasm. I could feel her pussy convulsing on my cock as I thrust inside. Because I had cum in her mouth I was going to last a lot longer.

Sophie began to urge me faster and faster and soon I was pounding away as fast as I could while she rolled her hips from side to side. Sophie began to cum harder than she had the first two times. It was hard for me to keep my speed with her pussy grabbing at my cock. I slowed my pace until she came down a little from her orgasm. Once again Sophie was crying out for me to pound her fast. I was drilling her into the mattress when suddenly I felt my balls tingling again. As my cock thickened Sophie wrapped her legs around my hips and refused to let me pull out.

“Keep fucking me!” 

I pushed forward a little further. Sophie lifted her hips to ease my passage. My head snuck in. Halfway down my shaft. I pulled back. Thrust again. Sophie grunted. Finally, I was fully buried inside Sophie's body. Without a condom between us the sensations felt hotter, wetter and one million times better.

“I’m not wearing a condom!”

Sophie turned and looked back at me. Her expression was unreadable -- a mix of total joy and absolute concern. Fear, desire, sadness, exultation. All in one. I was feeling it too.

I drew back slightly, then pushed forward. Sophie's face twisted as the sensation overtook her. Eyes rolled back. Lips curled. She turned forward, resting her head on her arms.

We rolled against each other. Together, truly, for the first time. I heard Sophie make all those familiar noises I'd known from before -- the little gasps and groans. Squeaks and mewls. But now they were coming because of me.

"So good," she gasped.

I couldn't respond, already wrapped up in my own pleasure. The heat of Sophie's pussy, her warmth and wetness, it was like nothing I'd ever experienced. Amplifying everything from simple sex to something beyond what we have words for. Intimate beyond intimacy.

I was fucking Sophie. I couldn't get past that fact. It was integral to the experience. The wrongness of what we were doing. The rightness of it. Everything about the physical act was overwhelmed by the emotional part of it.

I reached my hands down and found Sophie's amazing breasts. I squeezed those massive mounds, using them like handholds, as I humped Sophie from behind. I didn't ever want this to end.

"Getting... close," Sophie said. Her voice strained. God, I wanted her to cum so bad. But her words had a secondary effect.

"Me too," I said. I was very aware, then, of what we were doing. Had done. The consequences racing towards me, but I couldn't look away.

"Don't stop," Sophie said.

Our movements became frenzied. Moving in synchronicity; racing in opposite directions -- Sophie trying frantically to reach her orgasm, me trying desperately to escape mine.

"Don't stop," Sophie said it again. "Don't you dare stop."

"Trying..."

“Cum inside me, Jeff.”

Sophie's body undulated under me. Even though I was on top, she was clearly in control. She arched and shimmied. Rubbed and cinched. Moved her body on my cock like I was only an object. Faster. Faster.

Finally, she stopped. Stilled.

"Ohhhhh" the word slipped out of her like steam. Pitch rising till it left my spectrum.

I'd seen Sophie's orgasm so many times, I could replay it in detail on the back of my eyelids. Heard it so often, I could write it as a symphony. Even smelled it, her femininity filling my nostrils as she flooded.

But I'd never felt Sophie's cum before.

Her pussy clamped down, sealing shut like it was one of those vacuum storage bags. Air tight. Her butt slammed downward. Her back arched. We don't need to invent a cock-milking machine. Sophie already has the perfect one built in.

"Sophie, I'm..." My inner knight took one final, desperate swing.

"Dooooon't. Stooooop," Sophie said, a low deep rumble I could barely make out.

It didn't matter what she'd said. It was already too late. The pleasant tingle in my penis turned into a spark, racing fire down my shaft and straight into Sophie's unprotected pussy.

I let out a long, strangled cry. A river of sperm burst into Sophie's snatch, while an ocean of illicit bliss rolled over my body. I jammed my dick as deep as it would go. Squeezed Sophie's breasts so hard, there would be bruises after. Pressed as hard as I could as plume after plume of pleasure arced out of me.

Vaguely, I was aware of the woman beneath me, enduring her own ecstasy. She told me after, feeling my hot cum splash against her cervix had triggered a chain reaction, taking her already extant orgasm and exacerbating it. Like pumping gasoline into a fire.

Sophie burst. Her brain blew out. Her body shivered and shook. Wordless, primal sounds escaped her lips. She came like she was crazed by it. Like I'd unlocked the higher function of her pleasure centers. Both of us awash in the chemicals of reproduction. Oxytocin and dopamine. Endorphins and adrenaline.

My cock finally gave up trying to find more cum to pump into Sophie's fertile pussy. It didn't shrink, so much as it lay down, exhausted. Sophie's body went limp. I fell with her. Her soft skin felt almost too hot. We rolled off each other, sweaty.

We laid there still coupled until my cock softened and slid softly out followed by a stream of my cum. Sophie and I were touching each other all over exploring with our hands. Neither one of us wanted to be the first one out of the bed.

"I need to wake you up like this more often. That was fun."

"I could get used to it. But I think going to sleep like that once in a while would be fun too."

"Oh fuck," Sophie said. I couldn't tell if it was in celebration or regret. Maybe a bit of both.

She rolled over and sat up. Absently, she dipped her fingers in her pussy. They came out covered in white goop.

"Oh fuck," she said it again. "Oh, fuck me."

Reality raced over me. That post-cum rationality burst forth. What we did. What we'd done. Whatever post-sex satisfaction I had earned was obliterated by guilt. I'd just had sex with Sophie. Changed our relationship forever. Inseminated her unprotected pussy. All of it. My most forbidden dream. My totally enrapturing nightmare.

"Sophie, I'm sorry," I said, "I didn't mean to." My apology felt so stupid in my own mouth, I couldn't imagine how idiotic I sounded to Sophie.

Sophie didn't say anything. She rolled over and held me tight, like cradling a crying baby. Her bare bottom pressed against mine. I felt a stream of my own semen drip out of her pussy and land, warm, on my thigh. The tickle of her pubic hair on my rapidly shrinking cock.

"It's OK," Sophie said, shushing me. "It's alright. But if we fuck as much as that I'm going to need to go on the pill."

Of course it was too late for that. One of my little swimmers had already found one of her eggs.

We stayed like that, half naked in her bedroom, holding each other close for as long as we could. Neither of us knowing what to say. What to do.

Staring down a suddenly very uncertain future. She kissed me and snuck out to the bathroom as I headed downstairs to grab another coffee and do some cleaning of my own.

I kept the lights off as I made my way up the stairs, as all of the bedrooms were located on the same second floor hallway, though on opposite ends. Entering Sophie’s room, I noticed she was back in bed and fast asleep. I listened at Lauren’s door but there were no signs of life. I decided to head to Jessica’s bedroom and once inside began to strip down and felt the cool breeze from the open window flowing across the room. As I kicked my clothes to the wall, I moved toward the bed.

CLICK

As my eyes slowly adjusted to the sudden and unexpected burst of light from my table lamp, I was stunned to see Lauren lying in her big sister’s bed, a thin, white sheet giving the slightest hint of her nude figure underneath.

"Wha, what are you doing here," I stammered as I stopped in my tracks, unsure of just what direction my life was now about to turn.

"Oh nothing," Lauren replied matter-of-factly, a wry smile spreading across her face as she turned off the light. "I just wanted to see if you remembered anything I taught you."

#lovers #fucking #Jessica #Lauren #Sophie #redhead #Blonde #first time #just friends #Popping cherry #losing virginity

[powdermelonkeg]

Theory that solves(?) "founding of Hyrule" timeline inconsistencies:

Origin of Hyrule no. 1: Skyward Sword. Zelda, Link, and the Skylians settle the surface world at the game's conclusion. Notably, their dress looks nothing like the Zonai era.

Origin of Hyrule no. 2: Tears of the Kingdom. Rauru and Sonia are the king and queen who founded Hyrule. Notably, Zonai mechanisms and architecture greatly resemble the pre-Skyward-Sword-era Lanayru mining tech and symbolism, though Skyward Sword's art direction is more cartoony than TotK, so that has to be taken into account.

That's where it gets cyclical. If TotK's forgotten era came first, then:

Zonai influence should be ALL OVER Skyloft

The Gerudo should not exist, because they're (implied to be) descended from Groose, a Skylian; at the very least, there should have been a whole Gerudo culture in the Sky

Where did the Secret Stones go?

We should have seen Zeldra flying around in the sky, let alone Dinraal, Farosh, and Naydra

But if Skyward Sword came before all things Zonai, then:

The Lanayru Mining Facility (assuming it to be Zonai in origin) should not exist

Hyrule should have already been founded by Rauru's time

Of the two, Skyward Sword being first on the wild surface makes more sense. But if that's the case, there are even more questions:

Where did the Secret Stones come from? Are we to believe that Hylia gave them to the Zonai, since the Golden Trio have already left the Triforce and departed?

What about the Zonai themselves? They supposedly descended from the heavens. Were they just up so high that the Skylians couldn't find them? Did Hylia cleave the ground twice? Did they spontaneously appear up there like mice in grain bins?

Why is there a whole Temple of Time with bells that Rauru, one of two of the LAST of his species, woke up and went to sleep to? In fact, why is there an entire kingdom's worth of structures already built before the Sky Reckoning?

My solution:

The Zonai did exist pre-Skyward Sword, and did descend down from the sky ages ago. They built the Lanayru Mining Facility, utilizing the power of Timeshift Stones in their work. This is not Rauru and Mineru's era.

The Zonai are among the people that stay behind to fight Demise alongside Hylia, while the Skylians were sent up to Skyloft. The people of the Surface are entrusted with the Secret Stones as weapons against Demise, with the caveat that they keep them hidden. That's why they're called Secret Stones despite being well-known to Ganondorf in TotK, it was PARAMOUNT that Demise not know he could get any stronger.

The war ends. Just about every civilization is obliterated by it. The Zonai retreat as far from Demise's seal as they can to lick their wounds. They take the sages' Secret Stones with them, so as to not be caught unawares and lose them to Demise when he eventually reemerges.

Skyward Sword.

The evil is defeated, the Skylians come down to the Surface. That's the signal that it's safe to return now. Shortly after the Skylians officially start to settle, the Zonai, who know how things work, help them build a proper civilization.

Time passes. The Surface is officially a bunch of scattered clans with varying degrees of territory. People are content, though nothing is particularly efficient. The Skylians take on Zonai fashion and building styles as generations pass. The Zonai themselves dwindle.

Rauru, married to the leader of the Hylians, looks to unite the scattered clans under one banner in the name of prosperity and shared resources, idolizing the pre-Skyward era where the gods walked the land. He and Sonia officially name the place Hyrule, and any clan that signs treaty with them is considered within its borders. Mineru, meanwhile, has made her first construct models based on the Lanayru Mine Robots of old, which add to the appeal of joining Hyrule as its subkingdom territories.

Tears of the Kingdom, Zelda's first 12 memories.

Between the Master Sword going back in time and Zeldra's ascent, Zelda and Mineru get to work with as many constructs as possible to protect the Sky Isles they plan to send upwards. They need a TON of Zonaite, and recycling is a priority, leading to the gachapon machines.

Zelda knows enough about her kingdom that she knows where the land is particularly rich is where the people of her time settled, and Zonaite is shown to enrich soil greatly. This is why all the old Zonaite mines are underneath the towns in modern Hyrule, despite changing geography through other eras, and Tarrey Town's new-ness.

Zelda ascends.

The secretive Sheikah clan, having seen the Blood Moon's rise when the Demon King took power, realize that Demise isn't, in fact, all gone. They decide this means that their job serving Hylia isn't truly done, and return to help the fledgling kingdom as best they can. They bring the knowledge of the Master Sword of Skyward Sword days with them.

Ganondorf first shakes the seal he's under without form, leading to the first Calamity and the initial rise of Calamity Ganon. This is 10k years before BotW. This is also the first documented use of the Master Sword to seal the Demon King away, recorded in the tapestry.

The Sheikah are forced to abandon their technology. The Yiga/Sheikah split happens.

Literally all the rest of Hyrulean History happens after this.

Breath of the Wild.

Tears of the Kingdom.

#totk #botw #skyward sword #theory #loz #zelda #timeline shenanigans #things make a lot more sense if you divide the zonai into TWO eras instead of one #also FINALLY i have a reason why there are mines under Tarrey Town. like all the rest were iffy as is but TARREY #that thing was built SIX YEARS AGO and I BUILT IT #long post #bee attempts to make sense of zelda lore by eating all the wrenches nintendo keeps throwing into it

[jarofstyles]

Golden

Hello and welcome to Verboten (BFF!Dadrry) part 10!

I hope you enjoy this fluffy smutty piece because the next few will be... interesting ;)

Check out our Patreon for early access and 100+ exclusive writings.

Verboten Masterlist

WC- 2.5k

Warnings- mentions of anxiety, smut, breeding kink, age gap, daddy kink

----------

Y/N did not want to leave Italy. 

She had fallen in love with the people, the food, the weather, the culture- and Harry. 

That was pretty clear at this point. 

His hand held her thigh under the table as they dined outside under the covered balcony, the sea air ruffling the hair that had escaped her pearly claw clip. They only had 2 days left and while she had been trying to focus on the time they had left, it was only more daunting to realize they had to come home and deal with their relationship. Telling the people who needed to know. 

Lia. 

Y/N had felt an awful pit in her stomach as she answered Lia’s messages every so often, thankfully her best friend being distracted by her own girlfriend to worry too much about texting her best friend. For once, she was relieved for the lack of bros over hoes. 

She was galavanting across the Italian coast with her best friend’s father. Sucking him off on the yacht he had chartered, clinging to his body in the salty water, letting him kiss away tears from laughing too hard and one too many drinks. His hands had almost constantly been on her and she had welcomed, no, encouraged each and every bit of it. 

Her teeth marked Harry’s golden skin, the Italian summer sun having left its mark on him in a delicious way that had Y/N almost feral. Her nails, that he had paid for being redone just a few days ago, leaving scratch marks on his back and also soothing him to sleep on a rocking boat yesterday while he had rested his head in her lap as she read. 

They weren’t just having sex. They were in love. This was a relationship, something that would be seen as the ultimate betrayal. But Y/N wasn’t going to give it up. 

Her whole life, she had been the one to give things up for people. She always tried to take care of everyone around her, her family, her friends, even strangers. She’d been the constant shoulder to cry one and the one ready to brave the world and her own fears for other people. So when Harry gave her a little taste of how good it felt to be taken care of, she fell in love with it. Albeit guiltily, she was letting him do the things he wanted for her- and she’d never seen him shine like this. 

Harry had always liked taking care of people, but he was far more selective. He had a big heart, yes, but it had stayed particularly guarded. With the money he had, the people he’d met, it had been an early lesson for him to know that yes, he could help but he had to cherry pick the people who would be actually deserving. Y/N clicked all those boxes. She provided him with a level of comfort, pleasure and affection that he’d always dreamt of. She allowed him to spoil her more and more each day, but he was eager to do more. As many times as he could admit his adoration for her, he wanted her dripping with diamonds and the things she wanted to wear, never to worry about a thing again. She’d worked hard in her life and god damn it, she fucking deserved it. She said thank you, smothering him with kisses with every surprise he had given her, every little fucking thing, and it made him feel so good it was ridiculous. From a cute pen he’d seen in a market stall to the yacht surprise, each little thing garnered a excited, sweet reaction from her. So he wanted to do more. 

“I know that we only have our two days left…” He stroked over her thigh, pads of his fingertips tracing the bend of her knee and back up. “But we’re going to come back. I promise. I’ve got the house here and I can work remote…” His face was soft, understanding that she didn’t want to go back home. It was such a welcome relief being here, so needed and refreshing that all it could possibly do is strengthen their foundation.

“I know.” She replied, placing her silverware down before taking a sip of her drink. “It’s just… I know that it’s probably going to be ugly for a while back home. Just as a general rule. I don’t want to hide at all, I’m not ashamed of being with you but I know there’s going to be a lot of blowback.” Y/N tried to explain it without it seemingly like she was backing out of their relationship. That wasn’t the case at all. “I know I’m going to lose some friends over this. And maybe I do deserve it. Maybe I shouldn’t have made a move on you, but it felt right. I needed to do it, and I don’t regret it at all. It’s necessary growth for us, and I can understand that but I just feel… anxious, I guess. To see who chooses to stay and who chooses to go.”

That was something Harry hadn’t really thought about, and as awful as he felt about it- he was more relieved that she said she didn’t regret it. Of course he didn’t want any blowback at all. “It’s tough, isn’t it my love?” He sighed sadly, gently grabbing her hand and bringing it up to his mouth. His lips pressed against her knuckles, the subtle sound of them disconnecting making her smile. “I know. It’s a risk, and I’m going to upset my daughter but you know… I want to be happy. I deserve love, and so do you. You’re of age, we’ve discussed a lot, it isn’t like we’re throwing this in anyone’s face to upset them. If our happiness matters so little to everyone ese, perhaps it wasn’t a good fit for them regardless.”

The only person’s reaction either of them really cared about was Lia’s. Harry was prepared to catch the brunt of her explosive temper. He was a grown man and he had been divorced for a bit. He understood that his choice in romantic partner was going to upset her, and he didn’t blame her. Neither of them could, because they both were rational and knew that it was a fucked up situation. He just hoped that they could work through it. He’d tried to pick Y/N’s brain about it but she seemed to understand her fate in this. 

Lia wasn’t going to forgive easily, nor would their friendship ever be the same, but she was hoping that with time, they could mend what was inevitably about to be smashed up. Make a mosaic out of the pieces that were bound to shatter. Harry meant so much to her already and she couldn’t give up the chance of having a lifetime sort of love. Her romantic heart couldn’t handle it. 

“You know…” Her lips tilted up. “I have always been a romantic. I always wanted love but I pretended I didn’t. I thought… maybe it would help me avoid being hurt. I’ve been afraid of having my heart broken for so long, I never was able to properly hand my heart over to anyone. They could maybe touch it, but it was under lockdown. It was really weird when…” She licked the wine from her lip, looking at his slight sunburned nose as she found her words. “It was really weird for me when I found myself wanting to hand it over to you. Like I knew you’d keep it safe. I’m still adjusting, I’m still learning but I feel so safe with you, it’s hard not to just give in.” 

That was music to his ears. His smile was brighter than the sun when she finished, his hand placing hers on his cheek as he pressed tiny kisses to her inner wrist. It was hard not to pull her into his lap, but he had to keep some decorum in this situation. His girl felt safe enough to hand him her heart, and that boost it gave him almost sent his own beating chest to the moon. “It’s safe with me. Always. I won’t let anything happen to it, not from my end.” He couldn’t promise nothing else in life wouldn't hurt her- but he would be damned if he didn't try. 

—--

“Go ahead, baby. You can have what you want.” His hot palms held the backside of her thighs as she lifted the sundress over her body, breasts spilling out as it was tossed onto floor. Harry’s cock was thick in his palm, wet from her saliva as she had gotten on her knees for him as soon as they’d entered the living room of the villa. Sucking with fervor, the younger girl had gotten him slick with her spit before he pulled her up to let her climb into his lap. 

“I want you.” Y/N whispered, hand going between them to angle his cock against her properly. Harry’s groan was motivation as she slipped down, only taking a bit at a time as she shakily exhaled her whine. “I want you to take me, and keep me. I want to be your girl, Daddy. Please.” Her hands held his shoulders, keeping steady as her cunt sunk down on his length. “Want t’be your girl and I want you to come home from work and love on me, want you to text me to be naked in your room for you, want to make you dinner- I just want to make you happy.” 

Harry was nearly speechless as her whiny demands, her true heart showing as she squeezed his shoulders and finally got seated fully on his cock. “Y-yeah? S’what my girl really wants?” It was like the world had answered his prayers. He was buried inside of her hot cunt, her mouth saying all the words he’s been itching to hear for a long while now. “Want to give that t’you. Should just live with me, hm?” He cooed. “Move right into my bed so you’re always there for me, and m’always there for you. I belong to you just as much.” His head rested against the couch, gently helping her lift up and slide back down slowly on his cock. Finding her pace, he wasn’t going to complain. 

“I-Should I?” She asked, eyes wide and hazy as she sunk fully back down, full to the brim with his cock in her tummy. “You’d want that?” It wasn’t probably the place to have this discussion but hey- he wasn’t going to deny it anymore. The idea of her going home to her place when his own place was empty sans himself, when she made it feel like a real home? He wanted her there. Possessive, needy, perhaps he was, but he really did want her there. It was moving quickly but it felt like maybe he needed it. No more waiting. 

“Mhm. You’re with me a lot but… Stay with me all the time, baby. Want my girl around, want to live with you.. Never want t’see you leave.” His lips connected with hers as she began to grind slowly on his cock, his hands sliding up to cup each side of her ass. Her kiss back was just as messy as her cunt, the feeling of being full making it hard to focus on anything but how good she felt and the feelings swarming her at the idea of moving in. “Move all your things in… Let daddy buy you more pretty things for your closet. Let me clean it out… let Daddy take care of you, find you a job you really like.”   Harry knew he was pathetically whipped for this woman, but he had no intention of hiding that from her. Y/N deserved to know how loved she was. 

“Y-Yeah, please. I want to be with you all the time.” Her nails dug into his skin a little as she bounced a few times on his prick, making them both moan. “Just want to be your girl, Daddy. Want to be yours in every way, want to smell like you, sleep in your bed, I want to- I want you.” Her confirmation was everything to him, sitting him up as he beamed. His strength was used as an advantage, turning them over so she was laid on the couch and he could look down at her. 

“Good. You are- you’re Daddy’s perfect fucking girl, and m’gonna spoil you rotten.” He spread her legs open, looking at the mess where they connected. Her poor cunt was still swollen from this morning but she took it like a camp, shuddering when his thumb brushed her clit. “God, handing yourself over to me… Love it so much. M’gonna take such good care of you, baby.” His promise was true. Her hand clutched over her breast, nodding up at him as her body tightened up slightly. The stimulation and new angle made it hard for her to breathe in the best of ways. 

His thrusts were deep and full of promise. Groaning through his teeth as he watched her underneath him, watching her face twist with pleasure and her stomach jump with his thrusts, he knew he didn’t ever want to see a body other than hers under him again. “S’my perfect girl. Going to wake up to you every day and see that perfect face, make you just as addicted to me as I am to you and this perfect body. You’ve ruined me.” Y/N had made him a man on his knees, weak for a woman when he swore he wouldn’t again. Only this time, it was worse, and he didn’t fucking care. He’d give it all up for her. “M’keeping you. Y’know that, baby? You belong to me, and m’gonna give you everything you’ve ever wanted…” one of hus hands fell down to her stomach. “Remember what we talked about? Hm? What did you want daddy to give you- What did you beg for?”

Y/N got even more wet, mewling at the pressure on her stomach as she remembered exactly what it was. “A baby- I want you to give me a baby, Daddy.” She whimpered. “Y-You said, you said you’d get me pregnant and I want it. I want it, I want you to breed me and keep me full and- oh, fuck.” Y/N’s begging was cut off with his deep thrusts gaining speed. He’d lifted her just a bit, abandoning her clit to pull her lower body up just a bit with his hands. Her eyes watered, feeling his cock punch right against the spot she had desperately needed with the adjustment, hands flailing to grab on to the couch as she got fucked. 

Harry liked the sound of that. Far too much. 

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you the pretty house, pretty ring, pretty babies in you… You’re driving me mad. God,  I fucking love you. Stay with me, forever.” His face was beaded with sweat as he fucked into her deep, imagining those very things. She agreed to the house, moving in with him. He was sure that would be the direction they were going in. He wouldn’t let her go. 

Regardless of how much it could cost him.

#verboten #bff dad #bff dadrry #best friend’s dad Harry #harry styles age gap #best friends dad harry styles #jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles breeding #harry styles fic #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry smut #harry fluff #harry angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles au

[milla-frenchy]

2k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader Summary: you have an affair with Joel, a taxi driver. He is obsessed with you Warnings: 18+ mdni. PW not much P, dom/sub dynamic, infidelity, stalking, a lot of "sir" use Dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, oral, spanking, spitting, pussy slapping, unprotected piv, rimming, anal, dildo, double penetration with dildo, creampie. No age specified, no outbreak, AU a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog Kate, as always, thank you so, so much for correcting me 💕💕💕😘

Masterlist | ao3

Joel was waiting in his taxi, at night.

You were coming back from a business trip. He saw you coming out of the train station, wearing a mid-season white coat, a black skirt, a black top, high heels. You got into the back of his taxi and he drove off. As usual, you didn't speak. You sometimes looked at each other through the interior rearview mirror.

He parked in the street and you went ahead going to  the entrance door of the building, and then up the stairs. You felt his gaze on you. You knew he liked it when you wore high heels. But he didn't touch you. 

Entering the apartment, you put your purse and coat on the couch, before heading towards the bedroom.

You looked at the wall next to the window. Covered in photos of you. Photos taken when you were walking in the street, coming in and out of work, your home, the train station. Some photos were new since the last time you were here. In Joel's apartment.

It’s been a long time since Joel stopped hiding it from you.

He liked to stalk you, he liked that you didn't know he was there, when he was taking these photos. He then developed them at home, under the red light of his darkroom.

You loved his obsession with you.

Sometimes he would stop by your work. He’d stay there for a few minutes, in the large hall of the company where you worked, looking up at your office upstairs, with glass walls. Watching you. Then he’d leave. He never intervened.

He sat in the armchair in his room, next to his bed, waiting. He was wearing jeans and a white tank top.

"Undress, sweetheart," he ordered.

You unbuttoned your blouse, and unzipped your skirt before sliding it down your thighs then removing it from your ankles. You kept your bra and panties on.

“Don’t move,” he told you. You waited near the photo wall, biting your lip.

He smirked, then stood up and moved closer to you, before placing his right hand against the wall, making you step back and lean on the cold surface. He wrapped his left hand around your wrist. You felt the edges of the photos against your back.

You looked at each other and you waited, because since the first time you went to his apartment, a balance had been established automatically. He wanted to lead, and you wanted to be used. 

Your and Joel's gaze shifted from eyes to lips. You let him initiate the next move, as usual, knowing it would happen when teasing would no longer be enough for him.

He kissed you, parting his mouth and sliding his tongue between your lips before coming to caress yours. Brushing his nose against yours, he tilted it from left to right, without removing his mouth from you.

His kisses were always passionate, without sentimentality. When your mouths finally parted, both of you were out of breath.

He took your left hand and looked at your wedding ring, before sliding your ring and middle fingers into his mouth and sucking on them. He played with your wedding ring, sliding his tongue against the thin golden band.

You were married, but Joel didn't care. And to a lesser extent, neither did you. You didn't particularly like the idea of ​​cuckolding your husband, but things had happened with Joel and you weren't planning on ending it. You were unattached to each other, except for the fucking part, and that suited both of you.

He pulled away from you and said “need your mouth on my cock now darlin’. ”

You knelt down before undoing his belt and sliding it out to the floor, then unzipping his jeans. You barely tugged them down, just to take his cock out. It was leaking, precum glistening on its tip.

You looked at him. “Suck it,” he said.

You dropped some saliva onto his tip, and licked it up with his precum, rounding your lips around his shaft. You took his cock in your hand and began to jerk him off, your lips adjusting to his size. You moaned, before asking “can I touch myself, sir?”

“Needy already? Of course you can darlin’. “

As you continued to suck and jerk him, you ran your hand down your panties, moaning as you felt the wetness beading against the fabric. You then slid your hand inside the underwear, to your folds.

“Are you soaked, baby?”

“Yes, I am, sir”

“Good girl. I'm sure you started getting wet as soon as you arrived at the train station, thinking about how I was going to fuck you."

Joel wasn't a talker, except for the times when he was fucking you. His dominance came through the degradation that he liked to formalize out loud, and you loved it. When he spoke to you while your mouth was filled with his cock, you pulled away to respond to him, obedient, before taking him back in your mouth.

He grabbed your hair into a ponytail, and said “your mouth was just waiting to be fucked. You know I always see the way you bite your lip when you look at me?”

You nodded. 

"Answer me correctly."

"I do, sir"

“You always think of my cock when you look at me. I know you do.”

“You are right, sir.”

“Good girl. I’m gonna fuck your throat now.”

You paused your movements, waiting for him to take control. His fist tightened in your hair, he pushed his cock deep into your mouth. You pulled back but he stopped you from taking it out.

“No. You can do better than that. I trained you to take my cock down your throat, didn’t I?” He maintained his grip, preventing you from responding.

“So, you're gonna act like a good little slut, and you're gonna let me fuck your throat, just like I taught you.”

You nodded.

He resumed his movement, more slowly, until he brushed his tip against the back of your throat. He held you for a few seconds, while you struggled not to choke. Then he pulled his cock out. "That's better darlin'. Again."

He went deeper, and kept you against the base of his cock for longer, your nose caught in his pubic hair.

“Good girl.” He set up a faster motion, and you gasped less and less every time he hit the back of your throat. Joel released his grip on your hair, grabbed your head in both hands, and quickly started to fuck your mouth.

“Oh yeah… like that baby. Just like that. You take me good.”

His words made you even wetter. He pulled out of your mouth.

“On the bed now. On your back.”

You went to lie down as he wanted, he put his head between your legs and pushed your panties to the side.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

He spat on your pussy and slid his fingers between your folds, mixing your wetness with his saliva. He smacked your pussy twice, making sure to slap your swollen clit in the process. You cried out in surprise.

“Shhh… it’s ok, baby, it’s ok.”

He slipped two fingers in your pussy.  “You’re so wet I could already fuck you with three fingers, filthy girl.”

You wiggled under his words before saying “Joel, please”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m… I'm sorry. Please, sir”

“What do you want?”

“Would you eat my pussy, please, sir?”

“I don’t know if you deserve it, you can’t even suck my cock properly.”

“I’m sorry sir, I had lost the habit of having your big cock in my mouth. The last time was over a week ago.”

“It’s a shame your husband doesn’t have a cock big enough to keep you training when I’m not here, darlin’.”

He slapped your clit again, before wrapping his lips around it and sucking on it.

“Oh… Thank you, sir.”

The sucking noises were obscene, coupled with his fingers fucking your soaking pussy.

“You better cum quickly, baby girl, because I want to fuck you now.”

He swirled his tongue over your clit, focusing on the sensitive nerves.

“I’m… I’m gonna cum, sir."

“Go ahead, baby,” he replied, his tongue still on your clit.

You were moaning, louder and louder, until you came, your pussy squeezing his fingers as you spasmed.

Joel stood up to take off his tank top, and came to lay on top of you, his jeans still resting on his hips. He took his cock in his hand, and buried himself halfway into your pussy, before pulling back and pushing all the way in this time. 

You moaned, "Use me, sir."

"Of course, I'm gonna use you, darlin'. That's why you're here. We both know that."

He started fucking you. You passed your hand between your two bodies, and circled his cock with your hand, while he continued his thrusts.

“Oh fuck… that’s good. Good girl. Yeah, hold my cock like that.”

He was leaning on his hands, on either side of your body, pounding you.

“Have you been training your ass since last time?”

“I have, sir.”

“Dildo or your husband's cock?”

“Both, sir.”

“Good girl. But not too much I hope? I want your hole to be tight for my cock.”

“My ass is gonna be really tight for your cock, sir, just as you like it.”

“Let’s see," he removed your panties. "On all fours, darling.”

You turned around, leaning on your knees and hands, while he took off his jeans and boxer briefs. He spanked you hard, and spread your ass cheeks while running his thumb over your tight ring, wet from the moisture that had leaked from your pussy.

“I don’t want to prepare you much. You know how I love it when your ass is tight. You like it too, don’t you?”

“I do like it, sir”

“You remember the safe word?”

“Yes, sir”

“Tell me what it is.”

“It is “blueberry”, sir.”

He positioned himself between your legs and entered your pussy slowly.

“Oh baby… it’s impossible not to put it in your pussy when I see you like that.” He stopped and grabbed his camera from the edge of the bed, before taking a photo of his cock buried in your pussy. “Need it for my wall,” he explained.

He spat on your ass and brought the saliva to your tight hole with his thumb. He swirled it around to loosen it, before spitting again. Then he withdrew, and bent down to point his tongue at your ass, holding your buttocks apart with his hands. He growled. He licked your ass, running his thumb in a steady motion.

“Okay, baby, let’s go.”

“No…no lube sir?

He didn't respond, but rested his cock against your ring and started pushing.

“Oh fuck….”

“Don’t be rude, honey. Come on, I know you can take it.”

Tears approached the corners of your eyes as you tried to release yourself.

“Good girl. Relax, I’m almost in.”

He leaned down to spit just above your ass, watching the saliva drip down. He tried to push his cock in but couldn't get through the entrance and knelt down again to lick your ass. He put two fingers in your pussy and started fingering you, making you moan.

“Yeah, just like that. You're doing so well for me. I’m gonna prepare you a little more, so you can take my cock.”

He licked you again, his tongue digging into your ass.

“Alright, baby. I think you can take it now.”

He positioned himself on your ass and said “relax, honey. You can do it. Same as before.” You nodded as he pushed. He passed the ring moaning, “mmm yeah baby… just like that.”

He pulled back before diving in again, further. “Fuck… that’s good. Are you ok, baby?”

“Y…yes sir. I can take it.”

“I know you can, sweetheart. You always can.”

He fucked you deeper, at a slow pace, until his cock was buried entirely in your ass.

“That's it.. God it’s SO good.”

He moved back and set a faster pace.

“You like that?”

“Yeah…fuck…sorry. Yes, sir.”

“Don’t wanna come yet. We're gonna play a little bit. Lie on your back."

He got out of bed and went to open the drawer of his nightstand. You watched him take out a dildo, which  size was almost as imposing as that of its cock.

“I’m sure you can take two dicks, darlin’. Will you do that for me?”

“I… I don’t know sir. I never… never did that before.”

“We’re gonna go slow, don't worry, baby. You know I wouldn't hurt you. But if it’s too much, you use the safe word. Otherwise I will consider that everything is fine and I won’t stop.”

He settled between your thighs and spread your cheeks. He held the dildo in his right hand, and came to push it into your pussy. It clenched against the dildo and he smiled.

“You take it well. Almost as good as my cock”

He started to fuck you with the dildo, before running his tongue over your clit.

"Oh! Oh my… that’s good, sir.”

He licked your clit with the flat of his tongue, sometimes lapping your folds all the way to the dildo. He swirled his tongue over your clit, then removed the dildo to fuck you with his tongue. Before fucking you again with the dildo, and licking your clit.

“Come for me, baby. You’re such a good girl.”

He rubbed circles on your clit, increasing the pace of the dildo in your pussy and you moaned.

“Come on baby. Soak that dildo.”

You came and bit your hand to stop yourself from screaming.

“Okay, baby. Now we're really gonna play. On all fours”

You got into position, and you felt him slide the dildo into your pussy again.

“You’re so pretty like that. But you’ll be even more beautiful in a few minutes.”

He pushed the toy into your pussy, leaving it buried deep. He took another photo, before pressing his cock against your ass. “mmm baby…I’m gonna fuck your two holes.”

He pushed, didn't stop before he hit the bottom, and his balls hit against the dildo.

“Fuck, darlin’, I feel it against my cock. How do you feel?”

“It’s… a lot sir. I feel so full. In both holes."

“You are doing so well, my sweet girl”

He grabbed the dildo and pulled it out at the same time as he pulled back from your ass, on the verge of pulling out completely. Then he thrust into you, with the same rhythm in both your holes, speeding up little by little. Your moans grew louder and louder, you held yourself back from turning them into a scream.

"Do not hold  back. Scream like the whore you are. I want my neighbors to hear you, and to know that I am fucking the beautiful woman who came home with me.”

“Fuck…”

“Say my name, baby.”

“Joel…shit….” you could no longer hold back your cries, encouraged by his words.

“Come for me. One last time.”

You rested your head on the pillow before quickly sliding your index finger against your pussy. You couldn't resist the urge to touch the dildo that was sliding in and out of you, before quickly turning your clit under your finger.

“Sir… I‘m gonna come. Fuck… Joel!”

“Come on, baby. Come on my cock, and then I’ll fill you up. Come on, I won’t last much longer.””

You ran your index finger faster on your clit, before cumming, and he filled your ass with his cum, painting your tight walls. He pulled out and made you turn around, before grabbing the dildo to slide it into your mouth.

“Suck it, baby… I want you to taste yourself”

You tried to suck it, as best as you could, despite the effects of your orgasm which were not quite over.

“Fuck, baby… you’re beautiful.”

He removed the dildo before kissing you.

“Next time I want you to stay longer. So I can shoot my load into your three holes. And when you get home, I know that whatever hole your husband fucks will have been filled with my cum a few hours before."

Joel dropped you off at home.

The next day at work, you were leaving your office, with your husband by your side. You looked down to the lower level. Joel was leaning against a wall, looking at you, smiling. Then he left.

**********

Thank you for reading 🙏 Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader

[coltishcaterpillar]

Unmasked / Platonic!Father Alastor x Teen!Daughter Reader

Chapter I: Introduction

Summary:

Two days after the Extermination, a bored Emily reads through private records of Heavenly residents and sinners alike.

During her mindless scrolling, she comes across a vintage diary smelling of old paper, from the late 20s-early 30s. It details the life of the teenage adopted daughter of the Radio Demon; up until her death at aged 16 on January 11th, 1934.

WARNINGS: Mentions of Racism

April 4th, 1932

Have you ever seen a top hat, what one really looks like on a person?

Neither have I, until today. At the end of Merritt Street, there’s a small accessories store that sells jewellery and clothing alike.

I used to frequent there, but I’ve never been a fashionable girl. I’m a larger fan of browsing; just admiring the beauty of art from afar, rather than acquiring it.

I never realized how much I missed the little establishment until I saw my favourite businessperson; Anne Brewster. A short, tout woman she was. Her skin had a grey tinge to it, a pointy nose that popped out her features; bright brown eyes and hair as white as pearls, short and thin as straw.

I greeted her with my usual demeanour. Quiet and curt, a straight wave and a superficial smile. The woman has a tendency to chatter; most of the time I don’t have time to interject, so I just listen.

I went in the shop with Elbert Graves; a fellow classmate of mine in mathematics. He’s not my ideal source of company, I’ll admit. I get along much better with other girls, but this helpless boy is always on my tail, and I can’t bare to tell him to get lost.

We came across a jet-black top hat with a golden ribbon wrapped around its rim. It was on display, but there was no glass so we assumed we could sample it. Elbert looked utterly ridiculous in it; far too flashy, and way too gigantic for his pea-sized head.

I managed a small laugh, as that’s the reaction he would’ve wanted from me. Ever the jokester…

I took a seat on the cushioned chair in front of the store’s entrance. Whilst Elbert was fooling around with other gadgets, Anne took to speaking with me.

She spoke a great deal about her grandchildren, and then inquired me about Papa.

Pa doesn’t usually wander about these places, but he knows Anne from university; they attended the same one in Shreveport, in September of 1908. Pa wanted to become a broadcaster post-secondary (to which he achieved) and Anne wanted to edit the local newspaper part-time; she was getting old, but didn’t want to stop working. She didn’t end up pursuing it, however, she dropped out her third year to take care of Rachel (her eldest grandchild who was 5 at the time.) Then, she inherited this business when Mr. Brewster, her father, died. He owned the shop.

She asked about his job was working out for him. Pa never speaks about work when he arrives home; usually he’s more interested in my daily activities. I don’t listen to Pa’s radio channel anyways, because the subjects he covers doesn’t appeal to me.

I just told her he was thriving; because in a way, he was. Pa was rarely in a sour mood. Of course, he gets moody when I do something out of line from time to time, but his attitude is always uplifting.

Elbert excused himself to the restroom at the back of the desk; that’s when she started talking about adolescent things. Boys…..

“Elbert is a such a handsome boy, don’t you agree?”

“Not particularly.”

“Oh? Why do you say that?”

“His chin is too long, and his head is too small for his broad shoulders. Not to mention his personality isn’t to my tastes. He’s far too extroverted and cheeky.”

“Oh, come now, my lovely. Surely, we can’t all be picky! What ever will you do when you grow into a young woman? Who will be around to take care of you?”

“Pa will, no doubt.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. Your father will be far too senile to care for you when you’re in your prime! You need a strong man!”

“Too senile?! Surely, you jest. Pa may be lanky, but he’s very capable. He was only twenty-five when he adopted me, he’ll only be middle-aged by the time I’m an adult.”

“You say Elbert is cheeky, but I see a lot more cockiness coming from you than I ever have with him.”

“Only an outside observer can properly assess my personality. Perhaps you just see my persona differently than I.”

“Is that so?”

The bell hanging from the door rang; in came a man, dressed in a business suit, a large briefcase held in his right hand. He had been more wrinkly than I had last seen him: Anne’s partner, Mr. Devereaux.

He has a very thick Yorkshire accent; Anne and him met while she was on vacation in London; Mr. Devereaux was studying photography. When they first met in late 1864, they weren’t sure whether or not they could ever be together. Anne is a very brown woman, you see. Very. Mr. Devereaux is about as white as a sheet. People often look down on….colourful couples…? More harshly. They aren’t allowed to be married, so they had to improvise.

Forgive me for not mentioning this sooner, but Anne is actually good friends with my Grandma. Pa is half-Creole, you see, and my Grandma’s roots come from there. So, the Brewsters are actually well-acquainted with my family.

Mr. Devereaux sat his briefcase beside the door, across from where I was seated. He flashed me a toothless smile; quite literally, since they all rotted out of his mouth due to age.

I gave him a curious look back.

“Back from business, old man?” I tease.

He chuckled; giving me an affectionate pat on the head.

“Oh, well, look at you! Already at it with the nosy interrogation, I see! I’ve missed you, sweet girl.” He smiled.

I narrowed my eyes. He didn’t answer the question….

He turned his attention to Anne quite quickly. Leaning over the desk, he planted a kiss on her forehead.

“The trip went smoothly,” He told Anne, “Janice sent you a letter. It should be in the mail soon, my darling.”

Janice was their daughter.

“Lovely.”

He turned his entire body so it faced me, with an inquisitive look on his face. He then turned and whispered to Anne,

“Al is out late again?”

“I don’t know, my sweet. I’ve seen her out and about all day with Elbert, he must be. It’s nearly nine.”

“I thought his radio shows were done by four?”

“Perhaps the schedule’s changed, dearest. Let’s not be nosy, it’s not our business.”

I let out a deep breath through my nose, standing up. Pa likes to hang around a few stores after work, so I tried my best not to let their observations get to me. Perhaps he was already home!

Anne leaned over from behind Mr. Devereaux.

“Could you go check on Elbert, hun? He’s been in the restroom for quite a while.”

I sigh. Without a response, I head toward the back desk, into the small hallway that had the restrooms.

I knocked on the door, firmly.

“El?” I addressed him by nickname.

“Mhm?” His hun echoed off the door.

I raised an eyebrow. “What have you been doing in there these past fifteen minutes? It was eight-forty when you went in, it’s five to nine already!”

Within seconds, he came out of the door, an awkward smile plastered on his face. A blush dusted his cheeks as well; I narrowed my eyes at him. Did he have the runs?

“Finished?” I asked him without judgment.

“Yes.” He said, curt.

I lead him back to the entrance of the store, passing Anne a smile. I turn my gaze back to Elbert.

“I’m going to be leaving now. I hadn’t realize how late it was. Will you be alright on your own?” I asked, a tint of concern in my voice.

“Of course. See you later?” His tone was hopeful.

Without a pause, I said, “Yes, I’ll see you later.”

I said my goodbyes to Anne and Mr. Devereaux, and sent my regards to Janice.

When I exited the store, it wasn’t as dark and drab as I thought it would be; I still heard birds chirping, and I could see my way almost perfectly. Just another perk of springtime, I suppose.

When I arrived home, Pa was indeed on the couch, his legs crossed, with a newspaper in hand; black coffee was situated on the side table.

“Home at long last, my dear!” He put his newspaper down; and I ran over, kissing him on the cheek.

“Sorry, Papa. How long did you have to wait?”

“Oh, not long at all!” He chuckled heartily.

I turn over to the rounded wooden table in the dining room; a large cloth bag sat on it; my eyes lit up in curiosity.

“Now, now,” Pa waved his finger, “I know that dangerous gaze. Don’t go peeking around my things, dear.”

I put on a thinned-lipped smile, leaning on the armrest.

“What, do you have something to hide, Papa~?” I leaned in, teasingly.

It was meant to be a joke. A rhetorical question. Yet, I couldn’t help but notice his fist clench up, if only for a moment. His body language was saying something different than what his mouth was.

“Is it really too much to ask to keep yourself out of my business?” He bit his lower lip.

When Pa took that tone with me, I knew it was time to pipe down. I decided to change the subject, sitting next to him on the couch.

“Elbert and I took a stroll around the avenue.” I said, tracing along the armrest.

I could FEEL Pa’s eye roll without even looking.

“Out with that wretched boy again, are we?” He took a casual tone as he sipped his coffee, but I knew the mere thought of Elbert irked him.

Pa has never interacted much with my friends, so I thought El would be another drop in the ocean. I think his hatred of him has something to do with that one time he came over here.

Everything was alright until dinner time.

The few hours earlier, Grandma treated us with a generous amount of Jambalaya. She always makes the best, after all.

Elbert made an….observation? While we were eating and it made Pa freeze.

“This is some slave food! Who made it, a peasant?”

All I remember was Pa’s grip tightening so much on the fork. I leaned over to where he was sitting and rubbed his arm a little.

I disliked the comment too. That was my Grandma he was speaking about….

After El left, I noticed Pa staring at the wooden spoon on the shelf. I know that blasted piece of cutlery all too well….

Pa is good at discipline. Even when my other friends came over, he’d always make an effort to chastise them if they didn’t say please or thank you.

Long story short, I think Pa wanted to beat El. That’s probably why he was showing such immaculate restraint at the table. I can’t imagine another person disciplining somebody else’s child would go…smoothly, anyway.

He had valid reason to hate him, I suppose. I’m not fond of Elbert either, but…how do you find it in your heart to say no? I suppose I’ve never really had a backbone, but…it seems that he’s really fond of me.

“How was work?” I asked with a smile.

“It held all of its classic theatrics! You should find it in your soul to listen to my shows, my dear.” He beamed.

I was deep in thought.

“Don’t I hear enough of your voice already?”

Pa chuckled his little chuckle that always made my chest warm.

“You can never have too much of your father!”

Time went on as usual; a few moments later I decided to pack up for bed; Pa went upstairs to get his radio ready to listen to. He always does before he sleeps.

I took that as an opportunity to ponder; I turned my gaze back to the bag on the table. Pa notoriously hunts, but it was far too late for food, so it made me wonder.

I slid toward it with my socks against the hardwood. I breathed in deeply; perhaps there was a certain scent? All I could smell was the dusty fabric; nothing more.

With a sigh, I decided to leave it for now. Maybe it’s….best that I don’t.

Y/N

——————

Emily blinked once. She recognized the background; that this child of one of the hotel staff in Hell.

Taking the historical piece of literature to St. Peter, she inquired,

“St. Peter, hi! I was just wondering if there is a girl here in Heaven named Y/N L/N?”

St. Peter smiled in delight, getting out his holy book, scanning through all the people with your name; going roughly by last name. His face fell as they came to an end.

“Unfortunately not, Em! It’s…strange, considering the circumstances. Sixteen is very young for a person to end up in Hell…but she isn’t in Heaven.”

Emily frowned, eyeing the diary in her hands. Perhaps she’d find the answer in there….

#hazbin hotel #1930s #alastor #platonic alastor x reader #alastor x reader #child reader #fanfiction #hazbin hotel emily #implied murder

[y-rhywbeth2]

D&D Vampire Lore Dump #2

"Biology" Their "metabolism" and their physical body, their senses, why they're not aging and "vampires actually make fantastic torture victims, if you're a monster: vampire healing and how to inflict scars on them."

OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER FOR FIRST TIME READERS: There are two things to note about the lore presented here: First, while the standard stat block in the monster manual is the default, in terms of lore vampires have this annoying tendency to be incredibly, stupidly varied. They are magical monstrosities ruled by the power of symbolism and superstition above anything else.

The next is that D&D is decades old, spans five editions, several settings and hundreds of writers. One guy establishes a piece of lore, and then the next picks it up goes "nah" and writes something else. I collected info from four different source books, all from different editions, which naturally don't entirely agree on how vampires work. Lore never stays consistent and may contradict itself. You may see information somewhere else from a source I don't have that contradicts what I wrote here. If you read this and like some of this stuff but not other bits, take the good and ditch the rest. Larian themselves have not written BG3 totally compliant with some established D&D lore or the original games.

Basically, in D&D, canon is what you decide it is.

Feeding | "Biology" | Hierarchy | Weaknesses and Cures | Psychology

The transformation into a vampire causes little physical change, except for the fangs, and the fact that their facial features seem take on a permanent hardened expression, appearing more "feral" in a way that is likened to a starving wolf. Spawn moreso than freed vampires, and in 5e they have claws despite the fact that freed vampires don't. Sometimes a vampire's eyes turn red upon changing, but this doesn't always happen.

Most of the vampire's five senses are sharpened by undeath. They can see perfectly in the dark, for example, and are very hard to catch off guard. The only one that gets duller than it was when they were alive is the sense of touch - "a blunt, phantom sense of touch, more mechanical than biological. It is a pale, crude approximation of a real tactile sense." They don't feel the effects of physical exertion and their ability to feel pain is dulled (but not nonexistent). They're not particularly bothered by high or cold temperatures unless they're at extremes (like frostbite levels, or "standing by a lava pool" levels). They're also largely unbothered by electric shocks.

They don't breathe, though they do actually have a heartbeat as their blood still gets pumped around their body. It doesn't provide any biological need of a living circulatory system, but is possibly part of keeping the body animated via magic.

Vampires do not produce body heat and tend to be room temperature to the touch unless they've fed within the last 24 hours, in which case they appear alive.

Lacking brain activity on account of being dead, vampires are immune to mind effecting spells and psionics. The fact that Astarion is affected by the tadpole is likely due to Netherese magic. The parasite is canonically modifying his undead state to its needs and has shut down his vampiric abilities, as he observes in one banter.

Their physical abilities massively increase. They have superhuman strength, speed and reflexes and are far more durable than the living.

Vampiric blood looks like humanoid blood at first glance, but takes on a golden sheen when held up to a light source. Also if the vampire it came from is still alive, then that blood can have strange magic properties… which are random! Maybe it burns like acid, or puts you under mind control if you touch it, or explodes into flame when exposed to sunlight! You won't know 'til you find out, it could do anything or nothing.

Vampires are capable of siring partially-undead children with the living (Dhampirs). Dhampirs are alive but as they grow up and their undead heritage starts to manifest they begin to share their vampire parent's cravings and feeding habits and are not terribly fond of said parent, as a rule.

Vampires are the only undead that require sleep. That turned out to be a very long topic of its own though, so maybe I'll focus on the details another time. Short version: Vampires have an instinctive knowledge of how close sunrise is. Some vampires can chose to sleep much like humans, others will immediately shut down the second the sun appears over the horizon and be dead until the moment it next sinks below said horizon, at which point the vampire is 1000% aware and awake again. They are bound to soil from their grave/homeland and must sleep on/in that or be destroyed. In BG3 specifically, looking at Cazador, elves still reverie (trance) in undeath. (In reverie, elves relive their memories of years gone by in vivid real time instead of dreaming. It's how elves avoid forgetting their own lives while living 700+ years) Vampires also hibernate, where they chose to go into a deep sleep for an unknown and uncontrollable length of time reaching centuries in length. Usually due to depression.

A vampire's body is frozen in time, and they will always have the same appearance they had when they died. The magic that keeps the vampire frozen in time, unageing, also gives them regenerative properties as it tries to reset them. Within minutes of receiving a wound, the wound has closed itself as if it were never there. "Wounds close, broken bones reform themselves, even missing limbs regenerate…" Reducing a vampire to 0 hit points also does not kill them, but that's for a later instalment. If one were to torture a vampire one could get both incredibly creative and make it last indefinitely.

They also can't get new tattoos or piercings, as the body heals them over again and pushes out the ink/metal. On the same logic if they had body modifications before they died then they'd never be able to get rid of them - if you scrape off the skin a tattoo is on or tore off a pierced lobe, the skin that grows back will still have the tattoo and the ear will have the hole for the earing still there.

However, there are forms of magical damage that inflict permanent marks on a vampire, which are called stigmata. Sunlight, holy water, holy symbols and the like are known to leave a scar. A silver plated blade might also do it.

There are two energy planes: Positive and Negative. Also known as the Planes of Life and Death, whose energies infuse the Prime Material Plane (which contains worlds like Earth and Toril). Living creatures are powered by positive energy (also called "radiant"), while the undead are animated by negative energy ("necrotic"). It's actually theorised that the undead somehow exist on the Prime Material Plane and the Negative Energy Plane simultaneously, though this seems gets into a lot of planar lore and conflicting information that I'm not going into. Traditionally, due to this difference, the undead are healed by spells made of negative/necrotic energy such as Inflict Wounds spells, but in reverse would be harmed by healing spells. 5e has not included this detail, that I've seen.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion #i seem to recall something about Vampire the Masquerade writers also writing for Ravenloft #I can definitely see it #long post

[openpandorabox]

i've got my eye on you

neteyam x metkayinan! reader

summary: it's no secret that jake can be a little too hard on his two sons, but neteyam rarely let anyone see how it affected him, except you, unbeknownst to him.

warnings: none

notes: fluff, angst, sad boy neteyam

!reader is the same age as neteyam!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Simply put, Neteyam had a lot on his shoulders.

He felt as though there was a constant pressure in his life, something strong and consuming his being, other times lingering in the background like a soft whisper, an unspoken reminder that he was the son of Toruk Makto.

Not only did he feel the crushing weight of trying to live up to his father, but his younger brother considered him the golden child. No matter what he did, someone would be unhappy.

Of course, Neteyam being Neteyam, he'd always take the blame for his little brother. Even though it was Lo'ak that said it first, he too knew how it felt to be one big disappointment, and he'd never want anyone else to feel that way.

Being chosen along with your siblings, Aonung and Tsireya, to help the Sully's acclimatise to the ocean, you had gotten close to the family, with a special interest in Neteyam. Only, he didn't really know it. He didn't know you watched him, keenly observing him, admiring him from a distance.

You had seen it so many times before. The slump in his shoulders when he was reprimanded yet again for some foolish thing his brother did, the guilty eyes, the vigorously nodding head to keep the peace, the defeated sighs.

What you weren't supposed to see, what he didn't want anyone to see, was the wobbling lip when he was dismissed by his father, sauntering off to his own quiet place to be alone. The frustrated hand rubbing at his forehead, eyebrows furrowed with tension. The quiet scolding of himself, belittling words spilling from his mouth.

You just watched. You felt guilty for not comforting him, you felt even more guilty for being there and witnessing something he did not intend for anyone to see. When he was vulnerable and none the wiser. But one night, it was particularly bad.

It happened when word got around about Lo'ak bonding with Payakan. Neteyam was scolded for not watching his brother at all times, and predictably, he took that blame and apologised profusely to his father before beginning his ritual of lonely self loathing. He didn't know you saw him, but you couldn't miss the tears welling up in his eyes, the look of pure torment on his face.

You quietly followed him, not making a sound as he stormed down the marui, all the way to the end until he was far from everyone, where he just sat and let his feet hang in the water, head resting in his hands.

You stopped just behind him, slightly surprised that he didn't feel your footsteps due to the bounce of the marui. "Neteyam," you utter and watch as his soul almost leaves his body, sparing you only a startled glance as he swats at his tears and turns away from you.

"Oh! Hey, Y/N," his voice is shaky and a little hoarse despite his efforts to mask his obvious sadness.

You smile gently, taking the spot next to him and letting your own legs dip into the water, eyes cast on the bioluminescence's just below your feet.

"You should not hide from me," you say after a moments silence, turning your head to watch Neteyam as he fights to appear unbothered. "Neteyam, are you okay?" You ask, lifting a finger to gently swipe a stray tear from his cheek, resisting the urge to smile at the obvious affect is had on him.

"I'm okay. Things are just difficult right now. It feels like no matter what I do, someone will be disappointed. And I don't want to be a disappointment anymore." He keeps his eyes cast on his feet, yellow eyes shimmering with tears and the reflection of water.

It was rare to see this side of Neteyam. The vulnerable, doubtful side. You didn't like it, you wished you had the right words to make it all go away, but you didn't. Tsireya would probably know exactly what to say.

You furrow your eyebrows, leaning toward the boy who in the moment appeared so small and fragile. "Neteyam," you whisper, lifting your hand to rest against his cheek, forcing him to look at you. A flood of emotion fills his eyes and you can see his breath hitch. "You are not a disappointment. Especially not to me-"

He begins to shake his head in disbelief, his warm cheek suddenly leaving your grasp as he pushes himself up, already beginning to walk away from you.

A pang of hurt hits you, but you know you can't take it personally.

"Neteyam! Please do not walk away from me." You call after him, voice a little firmer than what he's used to, but it's enough to make him stop in his tracks, his strong back to you. You take a couple steps closer, easily seeing the tension in his shoulders.

"Look at me," you say, softer this time, and he hesitates for a moment before he turns to face you, the tears now streaming freely down his face, eyes turning red and puffy. The sight of it breaks your heart, and you feel your lip wobble and tears prick in the corners of your own eyes.

You resist the urge to reach out and hold him, but you wanted him to hear your words first.

"You are not a disappointment," you repeat, and when he looks like he's about to shake his head again, you hold your hand up to silence him. "Not to me. If you knew how much I admired you, you would think I'm crazy."

You watch as his lip twitches, eyes landing everywhere but on yours, almost as if he was having an inner battle on whether to believe you or not.

You step forward, lifting your hand and placing it over his heart, feeling it race and stutter under your palm. Your eyes drop to your hand for a moment, turquoise skin against his blue. "Neteyam..." you look back up at his eyes, and he's already staring down at you. "I see you." A single tear rolls down your cheek and Neteyam doesn't hesitate to reach out and wipe it away, just as you had for him, before he places his hand over your own heart, a small smile breaking through the sadness.

"I see you." He confirms, and something shifts between the two of you, like the ending of a friendship, but the beginning of something else, something different, something bigger than you both.

The world around you disappears for a moment, and for the first time in a long time, the soft whisper in the wind reminding Neteyam of his shortcomings disappears, just as you rest your forehead against his.

#neteyam x reader #avatar #neteyam x metkayinan #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #lo'ak #tsireya #lo'ak x reader #neteyam imagine #lo'ak imagine #avatar 2 #avatar twow #the way of water

[sc0tters]

Better Off Alone | Luke Hughes

summary: you have had a crush on Luke for months, but what happens when he comes to New Jersey and decides that he doesn’t like the Devils’ golden girl?

request: yes/no

warnings: asshole Luke, like MAJOR dickhead vibes from the boy, use of a legal age gap (reader is envisioned to be 21!)

word count: 1.33k

authors note: saw a Quinn imagine a few weeks back that I can’t find anymore but that’s what gave me this idea! I’m pretty sure that Rutgers does not have the degree I mentioned but we’re gonna act like they do. There’s no really ending on this as I was on the fence about making this a series, so if you want it let me know!

next part

The universe was against you.

Or at least that was what you told yourself as you stared at Luke from across the table as everyone was in the cafeteria for lunch.

As a student at Rutgers University in your sophomore year you had come across the opportunity to become an intern at the New Jersey Devils learning all about how they ran their social media accounts, something that fit perfectly with your degree in social media marketing. Two and a half years later now as a senior you were still at the same position and had built bonds with most of the guys that she saw most days that they were in Jersey during the season.

Sure there were some that you were closer with than others, especially the ones that were similar in age to you like Jack and Dawson. And there were others that you somehow had wrapped around your finger like Miles and Nico.

But Luke was the one you couldn’t seem to crack.

The boys all adored you because you were this bright ball of happy energy whenever you came into the room but that was what Luke seemed to hate the most about you.

It shouldn’t have effected you as much as it did but over the past year you had unintentionally developed a bit of a crush on him through hearing Jack gush about his younger brother and ultimately being the forwards game viewing buddy.

You knew that the crush was beyond unprofessional but your excuse was that it happened prior to him signing with the team and to your knowledge nobody had picked up on it. All of the players besides for Luke had very much picked up on it though.

It was the way you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence around him during the first week of him being at the team.

The way your eyes would linger on him for just a little bit longer than appropriate when you two were in the same room.

Jack found the whole thing really sweet in fact since he had grown to know you like the back of his hand, you two had grown particularly close during his rookie year. Meaning that he knew if there was any girl in Jersey that was going to fall in love with his baby brother Jack was glad it was you.

However love was a two way street, and it seemed like the street from Luke’s side was never going to be built.

Whenever he got the chance to shut you down or to call you out he took it. If there was an opportunity to make a dig at you he didn’t let it go missed. Any way he could try to make you feel small, he seemed to take.

Jack originally played this down to him being nervous around you, but when the comments didn’t start to slow down when you weren’t around the middle Hughes brother knew that there was more to the story.

Thankfully for you the majority of Luke’s attacks came in the form of snarky comments that you were able to quickly rebuttal.

His hits ranged from soft things like commenting on how she looked like she had just woken up.

To far meaner things like loudly questioning a boy as to why they would willingly speak to you, when you were still well within earshot of the conversation.

Usually you would just laugh and and respond with anything from “go look in the mirror,” to “takes a lot of energy being this much of a dick doesn’t it?”

You knew he was bad for your health, most nights you couldn’t sleep because you would replay the words that he had said to you throughout that day and you would helplessly scan them trying to figure out if there was any truth behind them.

You couldn’t flirt with guys for long periods of time because you would always find ways that Luke was better than them. Given how Luke was acting, your friends were really questioning your taste and standards in men.

Luke was like a mystery block from Mario Kart as you never really knew what you were going to get with him. Sometimes he was actually rather quite bearable, even going as far as to say something that you were able to convince yourself was a nice comment.

But most of the time he was the same old cruel person. In all honesty he didn’t know why he acted like it with you. There was just something about you that hit a nerve in his body the moment he stalked your Instagram after seeing your name pop up once in a comment under a post that Jack had made. He couldn’t stand how everyone adored you, even his mother who had only met you once always asked Jack about you in her weekly call with the boys.

Jack used the back of his water bottle to tap your knee “you coming to the bar tonight?” He asked cocking his head as he wanted to learn about your weekend plans.

The team didn’t have a game Wednesday through Monday and since they had a fairly good end of regular season, it only felt right to let the boys celebrate.

With a mouth full of food Luke let out a scoff “she’s not invited!” He groaned ignoring how you furrowed your eyebrows at him when he made the statement.

Like normal Jack stepped in to bring his brother back in line “it is an open invitation to anyone so yes she is.” The middle Hughes brother since his sibling a glare as he silently told him to shut up.

You always felt guilty when Jack got involved in your little spats with Luke especially after Dawson accidentally revealed to you that the brothers have full blown arguments about the younger Hughes’ behaviour when you aren’t around. So you let out a sigh that was loud enough for them both to hear “thanks Jack but I actually have plans tonight.” You lied not wanting to be around Luke if it was going to be this mean.

You were starting to lose the energy needed to keep up with the boy “you have plans?” Luke leaned back in his chair as he scoffed “bullshit,” he was quick to call your bluff.

He was right though, you literally intended on catching up on course work and sitting in front of the tv.

Jack sent the boy a warning stare as he was walking a fine line “nope, I am going to catch up on some work-” you couldn’t even get the whole sentence out before Luke erupted into laughter.

Once he got over his fit of giggles he smirked “knew it!” He ran his fingers through his hair seeing your confused facial expressions “knew you were too boring to have friends who wanted to hang out with you.” The way the words ran so smoothly out of his mouth without any sense of remorse was enough to send shivers down your spine.

The comment stung like a bee sting as you felt it poke at your heart when your eyes went wide attempting to process your next move “dude!” Jack scoffed kicking his brother underneath the table.

Luke only shrugged as you got up “even she knows I’m right,” he motioning to you as you had remained quiet.

You had to force a cordial smile on your face when you actually wanted to do nothing more than punch the younger boy in the face “have a good weekend boys.” You mumbled as you shoved your hands into the pockets of your team hoodie grateful for the fact that you had to head back to campus for a lecture.

Yes you might have liked Luke but you were starting to realise that it might be time to reevaluate your feelings towards him.

Maybe you were better off leaving the team when the season ended.

But maybe you were actually better off off alone just like Luke wanted.

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #oneshot #imagines #better off series