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sex-storytime · 11 months ago

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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

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boldlyvoid · 2 years ago

Text

Employee of the Month

eddie munson x reader

Summary: To make some extra cash before Christmas, Y/N takes a job stocking the grocery store shelves at midnight, unbeknownst to her that her high school crush also works there

Warnings: mutual pining, partial slow burn, parental death, mentions of Eddie's murder charges (now dropped), being ostracized by the town, teasing, flirting, sick Eddie, hurt/comfort, falling in love, first kiss, first times, virgin Eddie, virgin reader, making out, grinding, dry humping, cumming in pants. they're really horny touch starved adults

word count: 9k

In a last-ditch effort to make some more money this Christmas, she takes a job at the local grocery store to stock the shelves at midnight. It’s not too bad, there are only 16 shelves and about 30 feet of freezer to restock, she gets to bring a walkman and headphones and wear whatever she wants. As long as the shelves look nice come morning, the boss didn’t really care.

From the first night she worked there she knew it was going to be a good fit, mainly because the other stock person she’s been partnered with is the same guy she had a massive crush on in high school. Eddie Munson had one hell of a year while she was trying to graduate, he was getting accused of murdering her classmates. He disappeared mostly after that, the school gave him a pass and his diploma so they didn’t have to see him again, the town pretended they didn’t try and murder him in revenge for an entire week and she didn’t see him again for a while.

“Hey,” she waves at him with her lips pressed together in a tight smile, “I’m—

“Y/N,” he points at her name tag with a matching smile. “I take it you’re my new buddy?”

She nods, “yeah… um, what are we doing tonight?”

“The snacks and chips aisle, the milk fridge and the cheeses,” he recites the list as he pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to her.

While she is just in jeans and a sweater, nothing too fancy, he’s in a navy blue jumpsuit with his name embroidered on the left breast, and just under it, the grocery store logo. He was in uniform… “why don’t I have to wear one of those?”

“Oh, I got this for being the employee of the month,” he shrugs it off, not meaning to brag in the slightest. “You like it?”

“Yeah,” she smiles like a fool, nodding quickly and looking at the list he handed her to avoid his eye contact.

She liked him so much in high school, and he was still so cute, it was all coming back to her. He’s much more laid back and reserved now, it has been over a year since she’s seen him in person, too. It made her wonder if he was still that same loud, opinionated nerd that she admired from a distance.

He’s super nice about teaching her the right way to restock everything, bringing the old stuff to the front and the new things get pushed to the back of each shelf. They split up the aisles and met in the middle, trying to beat each other each time. He sang along to the radio playing over the speakers, and he danced when he thought she wasn’t looking… he was just as cute as he was in high school.

They end up making a good team, they finish their list and pick up a few extra chores. They change a lightbulb in the guest bathroom, take inventory of the magazines and run disinfectant over every surface they could until their shift ends. It feels like it takes forever, they’re awkward when talking to each other but it’s kinda easy to hang out with him. This was going to be a good job for her.

“You need a ride home?” He asks in the staff room after work, both of them putting on their coats and scarves. The November chill in Hawkins was not nice.

She shakes her head and starts to point, “no, I just live—

“You can’t walk home in the middle of the night,” he cuts her off. “There’s too many creeps and animals out there. I don’t mind where it is?”

“Okay,” she gives in easily.

She gives him her address as they walk out to his van, he opens the door for her and lets her hop in before closing it for her too. He asks her about how long she’s lived there, trying his best to make conversation but it hurts.

“Uh, we’ve always lived in Hawkins, my house is still a mess from the earthquake but the insurance is fixing it soon,” she assures, nervous for him to see the state of the place when he pulls up. “If my dad was still here he’d probably have it done by now, but it’s just me and my mom.”

“God, I’m sorry,” he felt so bad for asking. “That was the worst fucking week ever.”

“yeah… it sucked for everyone,” she doesn’t even know how to touch upon what he went through. “Glad it’s over.”

“More than you know,” he sighs, turning onto her road finally.

He doesn’t want to come in for coffee or anything, he gives her a smile and a wave and watches to make sure she gets inside her house safely before driving away.

She thinks about him well into the morning when she should be sleeping. It’s easy to get sucked into an imaginary life where he asks her out after a shift and they hang out and fall in love and she finally gets to kiss that smile off his beautiful face… it’s not easy to make it come true. She would go to her grave with the fact she thinks he’s handsome and nice and funny and cute. She’s not big on sharing feelings, having no one to ever really share them with, in the first place.

—

She doesn’t see him unless she’s working, which was only 3 nights a week, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

She uses those 3 nights wisely. She wears something nice but not too suspicious, and she always smells nice and does the best she can with her hair and makeup… she wants him to think she’s pretty. She wants to catch him staring at her instead of how many times he caught her looking at him as a teenager.

He tells her that she looks nice every day in many different ways.

“Did you come straight from the ball, princess?”

“You know this is a grocery store, not a fashion show, right?”

And her personal favourite… “It's too cold out there for you to come in looking so hot.” With a wink. A fucking wink. It almost made her pass out.

He does it just to bug her, he likes to make her squirm and lose every thought in her head. He laughs when she stutters through a response and he always pats her shoulder gently and says, “I just mean you look nice today.”

She has a hard time reaching the top shelves sometimes and he has no problem coming over and standing real close to her. “Here, I got that,” he says in such a low voice it felt like a whisper. He reaches up and takes everything down for her, “do you want me to put them up for you too?”

“Sure,” she doesn’t mind, she works on the second highest shelf instead, still close to him, she watches him reach and extend his long arms and puff out his chest and ugh he’s so hot it makes her stare like an idiot.

“You’re drooling,” he teases her.

She wipes her face quickly, “what? No, shut up.”

He just giggles and finishes shoving the new stock toward the back of the shelf. She bumps shoulders with him right before he heads back to his stack of things, he had boxes of croutons to unpack. She was now moving on to salad dressings and other condiments.

She doesn’t dare start up any conversations, overthinking everything that comes into her head too much. She didn’t feel like he’d find anything she had to say interesting.

They’re in the soup aisle when he finally speaks again. “Can I ask you something?”

She’s a bit shocked cause he’s been silent for so long, but she nods.

“When you dream is there ever a specific topic you dream about the most?”

“Tornados,” she can answer without batting an eye. “I had one the other night actually… I don’t know why but there’s always a tornado.”

“That is an interesting one… did you just watch a lot of the wizard of oz growing up?” He teases.

She can’t help but smile, “no, I’ve actually never watched it.”

“You get more interesting every time you talk,” he means it as a compliment.

“Yeah? Well, why’d you even ask about dreams? Do you have a good one?” She turns the conversation back to him, taking a handful of soups and shoving them into the shelf.

“I keep having dreams in high school where I’m failing again and none of the teachers will pass me,” he explains. “And I had one last night cause I guess seeing you again so much is reminding me of being back in school.”

“Wait,” she turns to him full of shock and awe, “you remember me?”

“Of course,” he doesn't see it as a big deal. “Your lunch table was beside ours, I saw you every day?”

He saw me looking at him often…

She wants to turn inside out with embarrassment. “Oh, I uh, I didn’t think you paid attention to that.”

“How could I not? You always reacted the best when I did something stupid,” he reminisces, stepping in closer to her. “And I remember your laugh was cute.”

She’s too nervous to even giggle awkwardly, he’s in her personal space and he smells good and his eyes are so inviting, “thanks…” all the air in her chest leaves as she melts in front of him.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do all that shit just for your attention,” he admits, licking his lips as he stares at hers.

It’s like time stops, her brain can’t process all the information so she just blinks a few times and stares back at him with a furrowed brow. “Really?”

He nods with a laugh, pulling away and returning to the stack of boxes they had to put away. “Yeah, I uh, I should probably feel a little stupid telling you this now after all this time, but uh, you bring the stupid out of me… I kinda had a huge crush on you back then.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” he teases. “You act like thats a total surprise? You’re so pretty and you were never mean to me, it was bound to happen.”

She’s completely dumbfounded, “oh… that’s— I’m nice to everyone? At least I try to be.”

But then she realizes what he really said, he used to have a crush on her, but that’s long gone. He wouldn’t tell her if he still had one, would he? Guys weren’t that open about feelings, it was always a game with them… right?

“Sorry,” he realizes he fucked up by telling her. “I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just weird for me. I’ve never been told straight up that someone had a crush on me,” she’s really taken aback. “Thanks… really.”

“Anytime,” he blushes slightly, dropping it there.

He drives her home again like he does every night that she works cause he really can’t stand the idea of her walking home past midnight as the temperature drops. He has tried to offer to pick her up beforehand, but she doesn’t want to put him out, and her mom doesn’t mind dropping her off every night… but he asks again, anyway.

Parked outside of her house, he turns to her. “Can I please come pick you up before your next shift?” He all but begs.

“I guess,” she gives in, “why?”

He shrugs, “I like spending time with you.”

“Then why don’t you ever want to come in for a coffee?” She combats, really wanting him to come in. “I also have tea and hot chocolate…”

“Okay,” he gives in right back. “I’ll come in with you, tonight.”

“Really?” She lights right up and throws off her seatbelt, reaching for the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He panics, rushing out first and coming around to her side to open it up for her, “you’re gonna make me look bad, walking you to the front door and not getting the door for you is a crime.”

“If you say so,” she laughs at him as she hops out beside him.

He slams her door closed and with a hand on her back, he leads her toward the front door. “You sure you’re mom's okay with me being in her house?”

“Yeah, why not?” She honestly forgets.

“Well, I’m me?” He awkwardly laughs, feeling incredibly nervous about his reputation. “It’s honestly why I’ve not said yes yet, I don’t know who hates me still…”

“Oh god, no, she doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t hate anyone,” she puts up both hands in a sort of surrender that made him smile. She meant it. “She’s also asleep so you won’t have to talk to her at all.”

“Okay,” he assures her, rubbing his hand over her shoulder with a smile.

Every time he looks at her like that she wants to melt right into him, to swim around in the chocolate pools of his eyes for hours on end. He’s so beautiful, she’s never going to get over it.

He leans in closer, looking at her through his lashes, “Are we going inside soon, it’s cold out here?”

“Sure, yeah,” she remembers what they were doing, digging her keys out of her pocket. She unlocks the door and pushes it open, slipping in first and letting him follow.

Inside he kicks off his shoes and hangs up his jacket beside hers before following her all the way into the kitchen. He’s as quiet as a mouse, respecting that her mom is asleep somewhere in the house.

“So what’ll it be?” She asks, opening up the fridge to take a look while he sits down at the kitchen counter.

“Oh, I’m good, I just wanted to come in with you,” he admits but by the look on her face, she doesn’t believe him. “Seriously, I’m just going to go home and sleep anyway, it’s fine.”

“You’ve gotta have something… come on?” She stares him down, “Pepsi? Ginger ale? Water? What about a snack?”

“I’m fine,” he means it. “What do you normally have when you come home?”

“It’s always different, sometimes my mom makes something for us for dinner and other nights I just have like a pop tart,” she shares, opening the cupboard and taking out a box.

“I could actually go for a pop tart,” he admits, eyes up the box in her hands.

She laughs and opens up one of the silver, crinkly packets and hands him one. He takes a big bite and dramatically throws his head back with a groan, “fuck, I forgot how good these are.”

“And you would’ve kept forgetting if you didn’t come in with me, so I guess you have to from now on,” she teases, feeling a lot more confident with him suddenly… she felt like things could be fun between them. If he wasn’t going to fall in love with her, she might as well try for being his best friend.

“You’re too cute to say no to,” he can’t help but smile at her.

“Again, you’re the only one to think so,” she rolls her eyes, not believing him. He was just a flirt, it wasn’t the truth… right?

“More for me, then,” he shrugs, taking another bite from his pop tart and dropping it there.

—

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?” Her mom asks from the kitchen.

“I’m fine,” she calls back, staring out the front window, watching the street for Eddie’s van. “My co-worker offered to pick me up.”

“Oh, which one?”

“Um, Eddie…” she turns around slowly to see her mom standing in the doorway now. “Eddie Munson.”

“Oh,” she is a little shocked to hear that name after so long. “I didn’t know he was still in Hawkins?”

“He works nights so no one has to see him,” she explains, “cause people are mean… he was really scared to come in last night after work cause he didn’t want to upset you by coming into your house.”

“Poor boy,” she feels so bad, never wanting her home to strike fear in someone. “I knew you wouldn’t have a crush on a monster, and the police cleared him, this town owes him an apology too.”

“I know,” she agrees but she doubts it’ll ever happen.

Sometime during their chat, Eddie pulled up outside and made his way to her front door where he laid a few knocks. She opens the door with a huge smile, “hi, sorry you didn’t have to come all the way to the door.”

“I wanted to,” he assures her, seeing her mom peeking over her shoulder. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Hello,” she gives him a little wave. “Have fun at work you two, I’ll see you, tomorrow sweetheart.”

“Bye mom,” she slips outside with Eddie, knowing her mom was going to watch them walk back to his van.

He extends his hand and holds hers as they walk down the few steps of her porch, he drops her hand only to place it on her back as he leads her toward the passenger door. He opens for her, like always. He runs around the van, sends a wave to her mom at the door and then hops inside, “ready?”

“Ready,” she can’t bite back her smile anymore, she was so giddy about holding his hand that it made her feel like a little girl again.

He pauses for a moment and looks her up and down, “did you get all dolled up 'cause I’m driving you?”

She tilts her head to the side, annoyed cause he always asks, “I always look like this.”

“Beautiful, you mean?”

She walked right into that one.

“Fine, I’ll let you have it this time,” she gives in.

“Good,” he throws the van in drive and heads out of her little neighbourhood towards town.

He’s quiet for a bit, she looks around at the street lights and the businesses still open, as well as all the houses with their Christmas lights up already. “I miss it was still kinda sunny out at 8pm,” she sighs, staring out the window at the full moon rising over Hawkins.

“I like the dark,” he shares. “Less people are out.”

“Why don’t you move? Not that I want you to leave, but wouldn’t it be more freeing to have no one know who you are? You deserve a real life,” she lets her feelings fall right out. “You’re not a bad person, you never have been.”

“Thanks,” he reaches out his hand and rests it on her thigh. “But it’s ‘cause everyone I love is here, I can’t leave.”

“Right, so are you still in your band then?”

He lets out a very surprised chuckle, “yeah, I still have my band, we still play Tuesday nights, it's the only night I don’t work.”

She wouldn’t know that cause she didn’t work that night either, “I’ll have to come see you play sometime, I don’t have any classes that night.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were in school still?”

“Community college,” she doesn’t feel so ashamed telling him. “Most my friends went off to real schools but it’s the only place I could go to for free, so.”

“Hey, at least you got in,” he celebrates the bare minimum. “I couldn’t even dream of it with my GPA. I was thinking I’d wait a few years and get some kind of degree when I’m considered a mature student, and when people forget about me.”

She wants to tell him that she’ll never forget about him, she never did. She thought about him all the time. She couldn’t hear Metallica on the radio without thinking about him. Every jean jacket patch made her think about him. She took a double take when she saw a man with long hair hoping it was him. She thought about him before she went to bed, in her dreams and as soon as her eyes opened in the morning.

She was completely in love with him.

—

She was only going to work for the holidays, and now that Christmas was only a few days away, she was worried that she only has a few more weeks left with Eddie. And for some reason that makes her want to get him a Christmas present, almost as a way to buy a place in his heart so he doesn’t forget about her when she’s not his buddy anymore.

And then he doesn’t show up for work… she’s been waiting to see him all week, and he’s a no-show.

So she asks her shift manager who says Eddie called out earlier in the day really, really sick. It makes her heart hurt knowing he wasn’t feeling good.

So she pushes through her shift. It’s weird without him, but she does it. She walks home for the first time and it’s a lot colder than she expected. The wind on her face and the snow in her hair, melt as the heat from her body escapes from her head. She gets home finally and she’s shivering, she wants to wrap herself up in a blanket and sleep for days, instead goes right to the kitchen. She searches through her cupboards for a couple cans of chicken noodle soup and some crackers, she grabs a few cans of ginger ale and takes her mom's keys. There’s no way she’s going back out there

She drives right into the trailer park and follows the road slowly, scanning the driveways for eddies van until she finally finds it. She parks outside the blue and white trailer and carefully heads towards his door, not wanting to slip with a handful of cans.

She knocks carefully, the lights are all still on so it’s not like she’s waking him up… and then another man she doesn’t know answers. “Yes?”

“Hi, I’m so sorry but is this Eddie’s trailer?” She panics.

“It is.”

“I brought him some soup, I heard he was sick and that’s why he couldn’t make it to work tonight…”

“Oh, that’s sweet, come on in out of the cold,” he ushers her right inside the tiny trailer. “Sorry for the mess, we’ve both been battling this random cold, I got it at the plant and he finally got it from me yesterday.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” she sympathizes as she lays everything down on his kitchen counter. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Wayne, Eddies uncle,” he introduces himself. “He’s talked a lot about you, I was wondering when I’d get to meet ya.”

“Oh, really?” She can’t believe it.

“yeah… you know, I can put that soup on, you can go down the hall there and see him, he’s just reading in bed, I think?” He points.

“Oh, okay sure,” she doesn’t mind, she was honestly expecting Eddie to live alone and have an empty kitchen, not an uncle who loved him dearly there to take care of him.

She shrugs off her coat and takes off her boots first and then she heads down the hallways carefully, she knocks on his closed door, waiting for the all-clear to enter… and his “yeah?” Comes out so sad and sickly that it makes her heart hurt.

She pushes the door open carefully, “hey… I heard you were sick?”

“Y/N?” He sits right up, fixing his hair and wiping his nose. “I didn’t think you knew where I lived?”

“I just looked for the van, I think everyone knows you live in the trailer park,” she realizes how weird that sounds.

“True, still I can’t believe you’re here?”

She comes in and takes a seat on the edge of his bed, putting out her hand to hold the back of it to his forehead, “you’re all fevered, oh no… have you taken anything?”

He nods, “yeah, some Buckleys…”

“I brought you some soup, Wayne’s heating it up for you,” she explains with a soft smile. “He’s sweet.”

“Where’d you think I got my charm from?” He teases, still well enough to try and make her smile.

She brushes his hair off his face gently, “I’m glad you have him to take care of you.”

“I’d much prefer you as my nurse… would you give me a sponge bath?”

“No,” she holds back her laugh and just shakes her head with a smile. “But nice try.”

“Damn,” he sighs, tossing his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes. Turning on the dramatics, he looks at her with the sweetest puppy dog eyes, “will you at least keep me company while I have my soup?”

“Of course,” she planned to stay as long as he needed her. “I just have to bring my mom's car back before 8am cause she needs to go to work.”

“I promise I won’t keep you long,” he reaches out for her hand, holding them with both of his own. “I really appreciate you coming to check on me… and might I say you look very cute today, I’m glad I didn’t miss this one.”

She melts at his words, “you must not be too sick if you’re still trying to flirt with me.”

“I’m going to remind you that you’re beautiful until the day I die,” he’s very stern about that.

“Yeah, like you’ll know me that long,” she plays it off.

He gives her hands a little squeeze, “I like to think I will… I might just be high on cough syrup, but I like to think I’ll find you in every life I lead, you’re so special to me, Y/N.”

“You’re definitely high,” she teases, leaning in forward to kiss his forehead as she stands up. “I’m going to check on your soup… you sober up by the time I get back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he agrees but doesn’t drop her hands, he holds on as long as he can and then she slips away from him.

Wayne’s just putting the soup in a bowl as she walks back into the kitchen, she grabs a sleeve of soup crackers and a ginger ale, it's plated and then Wayne turns to her.

“You know he’s not kidding, right?”

“What?”

“He wouldn’t lie,” Wayne gives her those honest Munson eyes that she loves so much in his nephew. “And clearly you feel the same if you’ve come all the way out here at half midnight to make him soup.”

She feels the colour leave her face as she’s caught red-handed, she was doing this because she loved him so dearly she couldn’t stand spending a shift without seeing him. She wanted to always take care of him. She loved him. It was as simple as that. She just loves him.

“Life’s too short to not tell each other,” he adds some last words of wisdom and hands her the tray of her lover's dinner.

She’s extra quiet when she brings him his dinner, and when she sits on the end of his bed to accompany him while he eats. He has a book resting face down, cracked open to keep its page, resting beside him. She reaches for it, checking the cover, it’s the fellowship of the ring.

“I’ve never read The Lord of the Rings, is it good?”

“It’s the best book series there is,” he assures her while taking another spoonful of soup.

She keeps her thumb where Eddie was reading but skips back to the first few pages, reading it over quietly to see if she’d like it at all… it’s cute. “You can read it from the beginning if you want?”

“Out loud?” She wonders if he’d want to hear that too.

“As if you could get any better,” he manages to smile no matter how sick he feels. “Please, I’d really love that.”

“Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.”

He basks in the way her voice sounds alongside his favourite book, words he’s read so many times and heard in his own voice now being retold in hers. He listens ever so intently, enjoying it more than she’d ever know as she watches the page, trying her hardest not to stutter and to pronounce all the words right so he didn’t laugh at her… but even when she gets stuck he just affectionately corrects her and admires her as she continues.

She makes it through the prologue and the facts about hobbits and pipeweed and the shire by the time he’s done eating. He has enough energy to take his dishes out to the kitchen himself and returns with a smile. She made her way up to the pillows beside him and slipped under the covers so he could get in beside her, “come on, I’m reading you a chapter or two and then I’ve gotta go home.”

“Right,” he gets into the bed beside her and snuggles right up to her, he wraps himself around her arm with his cheek on her shoulder so he can watch the page as she reads on through chapter one.

He falls asleep like that, with a warm belly full of soup and a heart full of love, it pains her to get up and possibly disrupt him.

She does get up, slowly but surely, replacing herself with a pillow that he snuggles up to instead. She kisses him on the forehead, he’s not as fevered as before, hopefully he felt better tomorrow. She takes a look around for a scrap piece of paper, finding one on his dresser with a sharpie marker. She leaves her phone number and a little note.

Call me tomorrow, I want to know if you’re feeling better. Hopefully we can finish this sometime.

xx Y/N

She slips it into the book and leaves it on his night table and then she’s off. She says goodbye to Wayne who’s still awake because if he sleeps he’ll throw off his schedule when he goes back to work. He also did night shifts, so he wouldn’t be there next time she comes over after work… that’s good to know.

—

He takes the whole weekend off and it sucks, but she understands he needs the time to get better. He calls her to let her know that decision around 2pm on Saturday and they stay on the phone all the way up until she has to get ready for work.

Waynes gone back to work, leaving him completely alone in the trailer after they hang up the phone… and all he can think about is how she’s going to have to walk home again. It rattles around his brain most of the night, he paces the trailer, feeling like shit but his love for her is eating him alive and it hurts more than his congested nose. At 11:52 he finally says fuck it.

In his pyjamas and all, he throws on a coat and slips his feet into his boots, he snags his keys off the wall and he’s gone. He books it out of the trailer park, watching the clock on his dash to ensure midnight doesn’t sneak up on him. The streets are empty, so he doesn’t worry about racing through the yellow lights on his way to the store.

He pulls up with just a few minutes to spare, his heart racing, he just parks at the curb by the employee's only back door and he waits for her. He reaches over to the passenger door to roll down the window, wanting her to be able to see him… as if she wouldn’t notice that it’s his van. She knew his van.

She knew him.

And she liked him.

The heavy door slowly opens and he sees her, laughing with their co-worker as she buttons up the last few buttons on her jacket. She’s bundled up in a scarf and she has a hat on today, she planned to be warmer on tonight's walk home.

“Eddie?” She lights right up. “What are you doing here.”

“I may be on my death bed but I’m not letting you walk home in the dark, princess,” he assures her, pushing the door open so she can get in.

She waves goodbye to their co-worker, finishing their conversation before she hops in the van and closes the door. She rolls the window back up. “Burr, you’re you’re going to get sicker with this open.”

“I hope you don’t find it weird that I’m here?” He worries, “seriously, after everything that happened here, walking home alone at midnight isn’t smart… it killed me that you walked home yesterday and then still came to see me.”

“I know, it’s okay,” she reaches out to hold his gently in hers. “You can pick me up and drive me home all the time if it makes you feel better?”

“You’ve gotta want to spend time with me too,” he places his other hand on top of hers. “Don’t feel like you have to be nice to me, little miss I’m nice to everyone.”

“I am,” she feels offended. “I know you’re not stupid, you’ve gotta see I love spending time with you.”

“I like to hear you say it, sue me,” he smiles, his eyes flicking back and forth between her eyes and her lips. He’s so close to her already that he could kiss her.

But then he’d get her sick.

So he pulls back a bit and pats her hand as her grip loosens. “Let’s get you home.”

“Yeah,” she settles into her seat and puts on her seatbelt, he waits for the click and then he’s off, taking the familiar route back to her place.

He asks her about her day, what they did, and how they’re doing without him. She missed him, he can tell by the way she complains about being partnered with someone new. “They didn’t do anything the way you do, it felt so wrong.”

She thinks I do things the right way…

His heart soars the whole ride and then it ends too soon. He parks at the curb with a sigh, “I’m going to be up for a bit if you want to call me?”

“You don’t want to come in?”

He shakes his head, “I can’t get my germs all over your place.”

“Right, no I get it,” she understands, but she lingers. He stares at him for a sec, “walk me to my door at least?”

“Sure,” he can’t say no to her.

She stays put this time, he runs around to her door and opens it, expecting her to jump right out but she pulls him close, using her height in the seat to her advantage. She touches his forehead gently, “you’re not fevered today, that’s good at least… I’d hate to miss another week with you.”

“I’ll come get you tomorrow, but I’m not working,” he compromises, knowing he hates not getting to see her too.

She hops out of the van and takes his hand on the way up to her door, “I could get used to this treatment.”

“You should,” he agrees. “Cause I’m not giving up.”

In sickness and in health and all that jazz… he’d be there through it all if she wanted him.

At her door, she gives him those same eyes as in the van, and he wants to kiss her so goddamn bad but he can’t. He simply pulls her into a hug and holds her tight, cheek pressed to the top of her head. She holds him around the middle just as tightly, it's a beautiful goodbye for a couple of friends.

—

He comes to pick her up for her next shift once again, only this time he pulls her into a hug at the door and kisses the top of her head, “hey, sweetheart, ready for work?”

She can only nod against him, soaking in the hug as long as she can get. “What was that for?” She asks as he pulls back.

He shrugs, “just cause… I missed you, I guess.”

“I missed you, too,” she wraps her arm around his middle and holds him close as she joins him on the walk back to his van. “Which is funny 'cause we’ve been talking more than ever, lately.”

“I know,” he loved it and it was evident in his voice.

Every night that she’s not working they talk on the phone, from the time she’s done with her classwork until he has to leave for his night shifts. It was a lovely little tradition now, he loved to learn about all her projects and reports, and he even let her read things over for his opinion. More than once he’s called her a genius, but the best thing he’s ever said to her was “your future kiddos are going to love you.” In regard to the class of students, she was going to teach one day.

It’s a day like any other, they have little conversations on their way to work, clock in together and head right to the first aisle on their to-do list. He dances around to the music, they toss things at each other, he makes dirty jokes, and she shakes her head with so much love you could see hearts float around her head. It’s so completely normal.

And then she almost drops a whole shelf on herself, he’s quick to swoop in and catch it for her. They put it back in place and carefully let it go, making sure it stays put before she turns to thank him… only he’s about an inch, maybe two from her face.

“That was a close one,” he whispers, staring at her lips. “Would hate to lose you to the soup aisle.”

She can’t help staring back at his lips, wanting to kiss him so goddamn bad she forgets how to breathe for a moment. It’s like time stops while she stares at him and he stares back.

“I’d hate to lose you at all…”

“Why?” Even she’s surprised to hear it come out of her.

He doesn’t say anything, he simply leans in more, and so does she. Meeting him halfway, their lips touch slowly and then all at once. A hand of his cups her face, holding her in place while she holds his sides, pulling him closer so their chests are pressed together.

Breathing each other in deeply, she feels her soul intertwine with his at that moment. Everything makes sense. She was supposed to take this little job and spend all this time with him for this moment right here. It was always supposed to happen.

They were meant to happen.

They pull away with a matching smile, giggling as they come to terms with the fact that just happened… it finally happened.

“You understand what I mean, right?” He teases.

She nods, “yeah… I get it, but could you say it just one more time?”

“Here?” He teases, kissing her cheek. “Or here?” He kisses her jaw next and moves towards her ear, “I could say it all over you if you let me.”

“We’re still at work,” she reminds him, pushing him away slightly before he could kiss her neck and start something he couldn’t finish in the freaking soup aisle.

“Do you want to come over later? To kiss a bit and read more lord of the rings?” He offers, making it sound a lot more innocent than either of them wanted it to be.

“Only if you read the chapter this time,” she teases, heart racing in her chest at the prospect of being alone with him.

Him.

The one and the only crush she’s had for the last 6 years of her life.

He flirts with her more than ever after that, he steals kisses every time he passes her and even serenades the love songs on the speaker to her. She pokes his sides when she passes by him, learning that he’s ticklish and he yelps every time she does it.

In his van on the way home, after not being able to keep their hands off each other most of the night, they have to so he can focus on the road.

“Does this make us more than friends?” She wonders aloud, hoping he had the same worry.

He nods, “I’d hope so… but if you want me to ask, I can?”

He holds her hand in the middle of the centre console again, rubbing his thumb over her hand gently.

“What if I want to do it?” She teases. “I want to make you my boyfriend, I’ve thought about it for years.”

“That’s crazy,” he can’t believe it, shaking his head as he drives a bit faster, wanting to be home with her so bad.

“Why?” She sounds so defeated.

“I never thought you liked me, I thought you were just really smiley… you could’ve been mine this whole time,” he explains just how crazy it was for him. In a very good way.

“I can’t even imagine having a boyfriend in high school,” she admits.

He slows down when he enters the trailer park, follows the poorly plowed path towards his own trailer and parks. Finally turning to her again with a smile, “I’ve never had a girlfriend before either, it’s all really new to me too.”

“Was that your first kiss too?” She whispers, scared that it wasn’t.

She was right.

He shakes his head, “Cheryl Lenetti in grade 7… she liked to pet my head when we made out, she said my hair felt like a seal pup when it was shaved. So fuckin weird.”

It makes her laugh a bit, “I can’t imagine it short…”

“I’ve got pictures,” he assures her, “Wayne’s kept all my life well documented. He likes to tease me and say that he’ll sell the embarrassing ones to the tabloids when my band blows up.”

“I need to see them,” she agrees and lets go of his hand finally, reaching for her door but once again, Eddie rushes out to beat her to it like a bat out of hell.

She shakes her head with an affectionate smile, taking his hand again once outside and carefully treating through the lightly shovelled snow leading up to his trailer. He helps her out of her coat and hangs it up for her, leaving her to kick off her boots and awkwardly stand in his main room. It’s a lot more put together than the last time he visited. like he planned to invite her over, so it was clean this time.

“You want anything to eat?”

She shakes her head, “no… honestly I’m too nervous to eat anything right now.”

“Oh, why?” He moves into her space, hands on her shoulders, slipping down her arms while pulling her in closer.

“You’re handsome and you want to kiss me and I have no idea what I’m doing and— and,” she stops with a sigh and a shrug.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he says with so much affection his smile makes his cheeks hurt. His eyes glisten back at her, and he shakes his head ever so slightly, amazed that she likes him back this much. “You don’t need to be nervous, there’s nothing you could do that would make me stop liking you at this point.”

She takes the plunge this time, she presses her lips against his, holding his waist she wraps her arms around his back and holds him there. He’s shocked at first and then he settles, hand coming up to cup her face as he kisses back. She’s not completely sure what she’s doing, but she’s seen enough movies to imitate what she’s seen. He smiles into the 4th or 5th peck she presses to his lips and pulls back.

“Do you want to go sit down?”

“Like in your room?”

“If you want?”

She nods, cautious as ever but she wants to spend the whole night kissing him. He walks her down the hallway, into his dark room where he flicks on his side table lamp to show off his perfectly made bed and clean-ish room. “Welcome back,” he teases.

“You planned this,” she calls him out. “Did you know you were going to kiss me at work today?”

“Not at all,” he assures her, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Legs spread so she could stand between them, and she brushes her hands through his hair while he looks up at her. “I was going to ask you to come over, yeah, but kissing you was a surprise to me too… I like you so much it’s fucking crazy.”

“I like you just as much,” she leans in, bumping their noses together with a smile. “You want to teach me how to make out?”

He laughs, scooting up to the head of the bed, resting against the headrest, “you want to lie down or sit in my lap, or what?”

“Um,” she bites her lip, deciding to be daring, she kneels on the bed and straddles his lap. “This is good, right?”

“Absolutely,” he rests his hands on her hips, smoothing his thumbs over the fabric of her pants. “I just want you to be comfortable, princess.”

She rests her forearms on his shoulders, hands in his hair, and she brushes his bangs out of his face to get a good look in his eyes. His big beautiful chocolate brown eyes that she loves so fucking much. “You’re so pretty,” she whispers. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

He shakes his head lightly, “no…”

“There,” she smiles. “You get my first kiss and I get to tell you how pretty you are—

“You can have all my other firsts too,” he whispers, selling his soul to her in the way he stares at her. She knows he’s giving all of himself to her at that moment. “You can have all of me.”

“I— I uh, I think we can start with kissing,” she frightens right up again.

“Sorry,” he runs his hands up her back gently, “I’m not expecting anything… I just wanted you to know there’s a lot I haven’t done with anyone either, I’m just as new to this. We’re on the same level.”

“Not yet,” she finally leans in for another kiss, holding his face in her hands to keep herself steady more than anything.

He licks at her bottom lip, it’s strange but she follows his lead, coming back in with an open mouth their tongues touch for a moment and then he sucks on her tongue. Again and again, they both come back in, exploring each other's mouths while his hands trail up and down her back and she plays with his hair once again.

She doesn’t mean to grind against him, but her hips take over like they have a mind of their own as the pace and rhythm are set with through tongues. He moans into her mouth, pulling back with a shade of embarrassment painted across his cheeks. “sorry…”

“It’s fine,” she’s a little breathless, so enamoured with him.

He stares back at her fondly, taking in how cute she looked with lust-blown eyes and swollen lips, he smiles, “you’re good at this…”

“Feels like it,” she teases, making him think she can feel how hard he’s getting under her and he panics.

“You don’t have to sit on me if it’s uncomfortable, I did’t mean to—

“To what?”

“Get hard…” he whispers, “it’s embarrassing.”

“Oh,” she hovers and looks down between them, more turned on, herself, than she realized, as well. “Oh.”

Maybe I am ready to do this…

She settles back down against him and shakes her head, “no, I’m not uncomfortable… it— it’s nice to know I did that, actually.”

“Can I just—“ he reaches between them and adjusts himself because it was a bit uncomfortable for him, he was hanging to the left and thats where her thigh was rested, and now he’s right under her… “sorry, it hurt a bit.”

“Sorry,” her cheeks heat up, she can feel his girth through his jeans, she has to fight every single urge not to grind down against him again, but she knows it would feel good.

For both of them.

“It’s okay, kiss me again?” He begs, pulling her closer.

Their lips collide again but with much more passion and need this time, knowing what she’s doing a bit better, she’s all over him this round. Biting his lip, making him whine, tugging on his hair, she grinds against him again, not so by accident because his hands on his hips help glide her over himself perfectly. She does it again this time, he gasps into the kiss and rests his forehead against hers as she does it again and again, dragging her hot core over his aching, clothed, cock. There’s so much friction from their jeans, they feel like total fucking teenagers dry humping in his bed like they can’t get enough of each other.

He kisses her jaw and down her neck, he sucks on her pulse point which makes her moan, it's so sweet and sexy that his cock twitches under his jeans in response. She feels it and whines, wanting more from him but not knowing what… it feels so fucking good she wants to just say fuck it and let him take her right here and now, but she’s still scared.

She grinds down a bit harder, the seam of her pants rubbing against her clit just right. “Oh my god,” she’s so out of breath, it feels too good.

“I’m gonna cum in my jeans if you keep this up,” he warns her, breathing against her neck between kisses.

“Me too,” she assures him, doing it again and again, she tugs on his hair to bring his mouth back to hers, wanting to be kissing him when it happens.

His hips come up to meet hers, his hands on her ass this time so he can help her press against him as hard as she can each time she grinds down against him. Her legs tremble a bit, his breathing sputters, and they’re a completely sweaty mess with too many clothes on.

She feels the all too familiar heat build in her stomach and spread throughout her body as she cums with a long drawn-out sigh, which ends more like a moan as he finishes underneath her. His grip on her ass tightens, and he groans deeply as his hips sputter under her, their foreheads resting together as they catch their breath, eyes still closed.

She feels so weightless and free, resting her head on his shoulder instead and cuddling into his chest. “Oh my god?”

His chest still rising and falling heavily, he laughs slightly, “wasn’t expecting that.”

“Me either…” she sighs, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “But I liked it.”

“Me too,” he can’t help but smile. His hands roam all over her back, holding her close and soaking up the moment as long as he can. “You wanna stay here tonight?”

She nods against him, not at all ready to leave his side. “I would love to.”

Slowly but surely, they get up, he lets her use the bathroom first, giving her some boxers of his and a t-shirt to wear when she comes back out. He changes quickly in his room, hiding all the evidence of what happened in his dirty laundry hamper. He matches her in a new pair of underwear and the same shirt from before, smiling when she comes back into his room with her things in her hands. She rests them on his dresser, she’d have to wear them again tomorrow when she goes home.

“You’re so cute in my things,” he compliments her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her forehead a few times.

“Thanks,” she giggles, completely blown away still that this is all real and he’s her’s and it’s happening.

They get into bed, and she snuggles into him the same way he did with her just last week with the lord of the rings. It’s cute, it feels right, and she feels at home in his arms. He runs his hands over her back. He kisses the top of her head a few times, she plays with the hem of his shirt in her hands and eventually slips her hands under his shirt to play with the slight dusting of hair on his tummy. They’re so content together it’s like they’ve always been this close.

And they always would be too.

part two

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @eddiemunson-rp @squishyturtle

Eddie

@fightingdragonswithwho @kyomito @reidselle @venomsvl @nomajdetective @girl-with-an-orange-cat @blairscott @princesseddie

@idkidknemore @eddiethesexy

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4

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lodisama · 2 years ago

Text

RIDICULOUS (x.t)

xavier thorpe x reader (no pronouns mentioned)

summary: reader is wednesday's cousin, or rather, uncle fester's child. you have transferred to nevermore, and on your first week, you meet someone. this turns into forming a secret alliance wednesday can't know.

reader has the same powers as uncle fester (electricity)

Being around people who stare at you like your some animal zoo wasn’t really on my list, especially when they’re the same kind as you. An outcast or, a so called freak. I would’ve enjoyed this more if I did something terrible. But for some reason these people love peculiar blood lines.

I exit the door to the school indoors, and there I enter the quad. Where every student of monsters imaginable hang out. I loathe the gossips, but love the stares. Everyone turned their heads to me, then there was silence. I look around to muster in the atmosphere. It’s not that I think highly of myself. It’s just they make me feel highly than what they are. I felt a dark aura behind me, making its way next to me. I turn to my side, “Wednesday, my beloved cousin.” I turn my head back to the students, smiling, not at them but at her presence.

She has always made me feel wanted and seen, though we had different interests, she never failed to make me feel fit in.

“Y/n, it’s lovely to see you again.” Her hands clinged together, hanging down.

Her voice monotone, though I know her words were sincere. “How is the first week in this hellhole full of surprises?” She asked, sounding almost displeased. I sigh, not upset in any case. “Surprisingly good. Though my roommate appears to be a no-sleep enjoyer.” She hums, raising her eyebrows.

Silence fell after that, but then a familiar platinum blond, with colorful tips comes hopping our way. “Y/n, hope you don’t mind me borrowing Wednesday from you.” She smiles excitedly.

I return her kind smile, “No not at all, you may take her.” I see Wednesday look uncomfortable, but she let it happen. “Thank you!” Edin holds Wednesday by her shoulder, as they walk away to a bench. I walk to a pillar next to a wall art, standing beside the pillar. I felt electricity fuzz on my shoulder, making me flinch. I step back to see who it was

“What the…”— He looks down my size.—“Oh”

I hum, seeing the man. Tall, tall enough to be a tree, hair tied up, miserable eye bags, chiseled face. “No sorry? I apologize, I didn’t see you’s?” He raises his eyebrows, with a confused yet maintained calm tone. “Have you heard me say anything?” I respond, which he raises his eyebrows at this. He licks the inside of his cheek, muttering a silent Alright. He seemed used to it.

He turns around, and continued on painting the wall, the crow impressively detailed. He coated its background with a different shade of blue. I stare, blankly following his every move. “Please stop looking, I can feel your eyes,” The man lets out a breathy chuckle, still focused on the painting. My face hardens by the feeling of getting caught.

“My apologies.” I clutch on the bind of the book I was holding.

I didn’t give him time to say something, not that I was expecting him to. I turned around and went in a different turn of the quad.

Though I didn’t see it, he smiled unevenly when I apologized.

━ ━ ━✦❘༻༺❘✦━ ━ ━

"Do you know where it is?" Wednesday ask in a stern, yet eager voice. "Of course. Dad always told me stories about this school." Her eyes practically glew when I said that. "Will you please show me?" She blurted. "It's in that secret headquarters full of Nightshade wanna be's. " I slowly walk up the stairs, making sure my voice was low. She nods, satisfied with my answer. "I need you and Thing to get it for me. Weems has me on a radar right now." She stops next to the railings, looking at me. "Do you mind?" I smile at her, shaking my head a no "I don't mind , Wednesday". "Thank you." She whispers. As I look around, I saw Xavier looking at the both of us from the other side of the railings. My face turns stoic, as I inhale sharply.

"So I just snap two times?" I asked Wednesday. "Yes, you'll need this." She confirms, handing me a flashlight. Thing crawls on my shoulder, giving me a thumbs up. Got it I responded. I face the statue, snapping two times. The statue slowly moved backwards, revealing a spiral staircase on the right side. I checked to look at my back. Wednesday was already gone. I exhale, walking to the stairs, the dark room full of paintings and the smell of old books greeted me. I point my flashlight to the wall, seeing every painting of whom I assume to be the parents of these students, which I familiarly recognize.

Unfortunately my father, didn’t possess the academic aptitude to be here, but I am grateful to be filled with his knowledge about this school, and letting me experience it at least.

My whole body shivers in joy seeing the Nightshade logo on the floor. Pure ecstasy erupted in me. Finally happy to see one of the best stories my father has ever told me, right in front of me. I keep my pace slow, paranoid by the idea of getting caught, but either way, what bliss. I could feel Thing patiently waiting on my shoulder. Suddenly, I hear something shift behind me. I had the instinct to turn around and flash out electricity on my finger, not yet zapping the said noise. "Woah━ woah." The man raises his arms up in the air, moving backwards. "Xavier?" I say breathly, whilst my eyes wide open. I slowly lower my hand, the electricity disappearing on my finger tips. We both pause. A minute of taking heavy breaths. Now that we're all alone, under this dim light, he looks good. Genuinely good. His hair not tied up in a man bun was a foreign sight to see. He was the first one to break the silence. "What are you doing here?" Brows furrowed, voice shaky. I blink profusely, thinking of an answer. Usually I'm great with lying, even at the most unbelievable situations. But right now, I can't just discard him away or say that I was exploring the school. Fuck.

My mouth opens, then it closes again. "Exploring. I couldn't sleep." I say. I try to ignore his eyes. Clearly doubting my excuse. "How did you get in? Not many people can." He asks. I subtly smile "Do you think of me as stupid?" I muse, tilting my head. He stiffens in his position "No━I just━ Forget it, I'm sorry." He rubs the back of his neck. "No worries," I blankly say, hiding my laugh. My eyes look around the room, seeing the painting that hides the treasure Wednesday desires. I make my way to it, not caring that he was still behind me. "What are you looking for?" He follows behind me. "This is none of your business." I hold the side of the painting, opening it like a door. "What the hell.." He says in awe. I hadn't even realize it, but Thing was now nowhere in my sight. "Thing?" I call out for him. "Wait, what? What are really here for, Y/n?" His voice now serious. I inhale deeply in exasperation. Turning around, I fuse electricity on my finger, pointing it at him. "Dare to speak a word of this and I will electrocute you in your bath." I threatened, slowly walk towards him. He looks at the blue fuzzing thing on my finger. "Okay, I won't. What can I do to help?" I sigh in annoyance once again, and I think he got the idea, but still stayed. "I prefer to commit theif crime alone." Thing signed, agreeing with me. "Would you rather me tell on Weems?" It's his turn to threaten me now. Though it didn't do much. "She'll lose one of the most rarest outcast, then." I smugly reply. "Trust me no one here needs you," I could hear his smile through those words. I ignore him, and proceeded to do what I was told to do. "Thing, open the safe please." I ordered Thing, and like that he obliged. "Hey, I don't think we're supposed to open that safe." Xavier peers, concerned of some sort. "Then leave." I bent down to the size of the painting or rather, safe. It opened swiftly, revealing the book I needed. I softly gasp, grabbing the book. Flipping through the pages. The pages contain different kinds of beasts. The man behind me slowly made his way next to me, interested in my discovery. My eyes widen as I saw the beast my cousin has been obsessed with. "That's the thing I keep on dreaming about," His voice low. My brows knit together, turning my head to his face level. "You've seen this before?" I ask in curiosity. He nods, "Yeah. I've been drawing them too, it's been on my mind for so long. It's fucking me up." He covers his mouth, faltering his eyes at mine. There was a pause, but then I turned around to look back at the book. I sharply close it, emitting a sound. I grab my bag, putting the book inside. "Thank you, Thing." I looked at the moving hand. Thing crawls back on my shoulder, making himself comfy. "Y'know, you might get caught, right?" Xavier puts his hands inside his jean pockets. "Yes, and the idea excites me." I reply coldly. Xavier snickers at this. "Let's go before anyone notices we're gone." I said. He nods, letting me walk up the stairs first, his tall figure following me behind. We made it out the underground place, and I immediately turn to a different path, but I was abruptly stopped by a hand holding tightly on my wrist. I look at his hand and up at him. "What?" I ask. "Do you have a phone, or are you just like your cousin?" He chuckles lowly. I straighten my position, raising my eyebrows. 'I prefer to be old schooled." I replied. "Letters?" He breathed. Well he catch on quick. "Yes. Why?" pure confusion runs my head. "Expect letters under your door." He drops my hand, now pointing at me. "I'll be ready with a lighter to burn them." I muse once again. "Is that a yes?" He pushed further on. This boy is ridiculous. I nod slowly, I could see and hear his smile through the darkness. "Goodnight Y/n."

#xavier thorpe #wednesday #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe x reader #enid emma myers #nightshades #wednesday 2022 #uncle fester #addams family #no pronouns

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holymusicalmothman · 1 year ago

Text

Sweet Nothings -- OPLA!Sanji x Reader

I've only seen the Live Action, so this is new for me. I started reading the manga a few hours ago and the anime is bookmarked on my Crunchyroll. But for now, I'm working with what I've got. So this is exclusively the Live Action. Best friends to Lovers Trope cause I wanted to. I'm not entirely happy with how this turned out so I might redo it at some point.

Also, shoutout to @avidanadvocacy who managed to like and reblog this within, like, five seconds of me posting it. They're probably the only reason I sat down and wrote this lol

Warnings: vague mentions of canon typical violence, reader is very cautious of showing the fact they're rather soft (not sure if that counts as a warning or makes sense, I'm tired lol)

No use of y/n, or those weird descriptor things, reader is gender neutral. Reader is however you imagine them

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist

I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

You had known Sanji since you were young. You had both been around twelve at the time Zeff took you in, after you had been abandoned rather unceremoniously at the Baratie. You couldn’t remember much about the pirates who had left you behind, not that it mattered to you. You were thankful, even after all the years since, that Zeff had taken you in. You weren’t a skilled cook, but you were diligent and hard working, so you worked as a head waiter.

Having grown up around Sanji, you were used to his…antics. He was a flirt to each and every female customer, but whenever you asked, he would wave you off and laugh about it being how he simply ‘gets the customers to keep coming back.’ And you’d roll your eyes and continue on with your business. He had been your best friend for years. When you had initially met, you had simply clicked and that was that. Nothing to it.

He would make you smile on your worst days and you’d do the same for him. Because that’s what friends do. Right?

The first moment you had doubted that his friendship was just that was the day he lent you his coat.

You had just stopped in the kitchen to drop off orders and take a quick breather. The lunch rush at the Baratie was merciless on a good day.

The winds had shifted earlier in the day and despite the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, a chill passed through you and you shivered.

Within moments, a navy blue suit jacket had been deposited around your shoulders.

You turned to see Sanji grinning at you.

“Wouldn’t do for our favorite waiter to catch cold now, would it?” He said before walking deeper into the kitchen.

You smiled at his retreating form, then slipped your arms into the coat properly and rolled the sleeves so that you’d be able to work.

A bit of time had passed since then, and you stopped to survey the tables around the restaurant, putting your hands into the pockets of Sanji’s jacket.

Your fingers brushed against something and you pulled it out in confusion.

A pebble sat in the palm of your hand. Just as blue as the day you had initially found it two years back.

Zeff had sent you both for supplies and you had spotted it. It was a stunning cerulean blue and you had immediately thought of your best friend. He had told you of the All Blue, and ever since that moment you had associated the color with him. Not every shade of blue, of course, but only the ones that were the most beautiful. One’s that caught the eye and seemed to shimmer.

You had almost forgotten the tiny pebble. But this jacket…Sanji’s favorite. There would be no way he’d be unaware of it being in the pocket.

You put the stone back. Your mind racing.

They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

The one thing you didn’t like about the Baratie was the fighting. You knew it was inevitable, especially with pirates. You were old enough now to look past it. It was a fact of life. Sometimes it was genuine fighting, other times customers simply got into little spats that were easier to ignore.

You sighed and wandered into the kitchen. Zeff had stepped out to smooth the wrinkles on whatever argument had broken out. To be entirely honest, the dinner shift had taken it out of you and you were exhausted.

You plopped down in a chair off to the side with another heavy sigh and shut your eyes.

The clink of dishware being set before you and a chair scraping the ground next to you brought you to open your eyes again.

A rice dish sat in front of you, a glass of water next to it. Sanji’s eyes watched you carefully.

“What is it?” You knew the Baratie menu inside and out, and this was definitely not on it.

A signature smile graced his face. “Seafood risotto. Nothing terribly fancy, just terribly good.”

“Does Zeff know about this?” You asked, taking a bite. It was divine.

Blue eyes twinkled. “What the old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Sanji paused, smile fading and voice growing soft. “You seem tired, sweetheart.”

You tried to squash the flutter in your chest. It had been months since you found the pebble in Sanji’s coat, and you had found out that he always carried it. Your heart had run away with that information. And while the blond had called you by the same pet name for years, it felt different now that your affections towards your best friend had shifted. You kept the information to yourself, afraid of change.

So instead you shrugged, continuing to eat. “I guess I’m a little tired? The dining room has kept me on my toes all day and I didn’t sleep very easy last night.”

Sanji’s brows furrow in concern at that. “Well, make sure you finish eating. And try and get some better sleep tonight. For me, yeah?”

You swallowed. He always looked at you so sweetly. Always treated you so differently than the girls he flirted with for good tips. Now he was giving you that small smile, blond hair in his face as always, but the softness in his eyes was unmistakable.

You nodded, “Of course, Sanji.”

Your heart was doing somersaults.

On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time

Monkey D Luffy came barrelling into both your lives like a cannonball. One moment life was as it had been for years, the next finds both you and Sanji preparing to leave the Baratie and join the crew of the Going Merry

You weren’t sure why Luffy had insisted you come too. When you had asked him, he had only shrugged with a smile, saying that it had felt like the right thing to do.

So, you made yourself useful where you could. Whether it be helping Sanji, or any of the other Straw Hats.

Luffy had soon after discovered that you enjoyed writing.

It was the day before everything went wrong.

You and Sanji had left the Baratie that afternoon, Zorro was on the road to recovery from his battle against Dracule Mihawk, and everything seemed fine .

A conversation of dreams had even arisen over a meal, and you had shyly mentioned how you enjoyed writing. Not that there was time for it while waiting tables.

Sanji was surprised and intrigued to find a new side of you. You had never mentioned it to him. It was just a silly little hobby in your eyes and, in the life you led, you had always kept those simple things to yourself. Not even sharing them with your best friend.

Luffy, however, had been delighted and immediately asked if you would document the voyage.

Granted, his wording had been more along the lines of “write down our adventures”, but same thing.

Later that night, Sanji had found you on the deck, a new journal in your hand.

“A writer, eh?” He had that soft voice again.

You nodded, refusing to look at him properly. “I want to be a famous poet someday.” You whispered, inwardly afraid of making such an admission.

The years on the Baratie had led you to shove all the soft spoken emotions deep down, gentleness was not a trait most pirates were fond of. But your new captain was the exact opposite, his kindness earning your trust instantly. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you had found a new and true friend in Luffy.

But you’d never replace Sanji.

Your heart seemed to clench and you opened your mouth to apologize for keeping it from him, but when you looked at him, your breath caught and your voice failed you.

The chef was always sweet on you, but he looked at you in that moment as if you had hung the stars.

“What a mind.” He said quietly, as if he was simply in awe of you.

Unbeknownst to you, Sanji had been looking at you like that for years. There was a reason he called you sweetheart, why you were always the first to try his new creations, why he treated you so differently than all the other girls. A reason why he was so sweet on you.

Everyone could see it. Zorro knew. Nami knew. Usopp knew. Luffy knew. The young captain had made sure to bring you both from the Baratie. If it meant he had to separate the two of you, then Luffy would have never had Sanji come aboard as Chef.

Even Zeff knew. Which was why he had let you both go.

However, you couldn’t see it.

But in that moment, with Sanji looking at you, you were ready to throw it all away. Willing to possibly ruin years of friendship if it just meant you could kiss him once.

'Cause they said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was nothing

Nami’s betrayal had shocked you all to the core. You had only known her for such a short time, but it had still hurt.

Sanji was convinced that her alliance with Arlong wasn’t something she had chosen. Zorro seemed to only see it in black and white, positive that she had made her choice.

Luffy simply wanted to hear the truth from Nami herself. And only then would he believe it.

So the Going Merry was currently sailing for the Conomi Islands just to hear that truth.

It was once again late at night, but sleep would not come. The day’s events play over and over in your mind, keeping you wide awake.

So you headed quietly to the kitchen only to find the light on and an equally awake Sanji sitting quietly with a cup of tea, humming to himself.

You froze. You had almost kissed him the night before, fear holding you back.

But he had already seen you.

“Can’t sleep either, can you, sweetheart?”

You gave up on resisting, going to sit beside him.

Without speaking, he poured you a cup of tea, setting it before you.

“Chamomile. Should help.” Was all he said.

The day had left you both content with each other’s silence as you sat next to each other, shoulders brushing lightly. Sanji eventually went back to humming.

You couldn’t tell if it was the gentle movement of the ship as it sailed, the tea, or even Sanji himself humming softly next to you, but eventually your eyes shut.

Vaguely, you were aware of being carried and eventually set down gently in your hammock.

Something brushed your forehead and you thought you heard Sanji’s voice before you drifted fully into sleep. You felt almost certain it was a kiss, but you were too deep in the fog of sleep to deem that true. It had most likely been your imagination.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

The fight against Arlong and his pirates had once again changed everything overnight. You wouldn’t lie, it was terrifying. But you had prevailed. The Straw Hats won in the end. Nami and her village were safe.

It had brought so many things to light for you. As soon as you had all reboarded the Going Merry, you dutifully recorded the events of the day, from the villagers of Coco Village to the fight at Arlong Park, you made your way to the kitchen, needing solace from your best friend.

Your emotions had been bottled the whole day. Yes, fighting was inevitable. You were a pirate, it was simply a fact of life. But you still didn’t like it.

“Sanji?” You called.

The kitchen was empty to your surprise, so you made your way to the deck, finding him by the tangerine trees.

He had the pebble in his hand as you walked up and your heart began to race. He slipped it back into his pocket as he noticed you and you pretended not to see.

Instead you wrapped your arms around his middle, and Sanji instantly returned your hug, holding you close.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know. I think…” you trailed off.

Sanji released you from the hug, but still kept you within his arms. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded. “I think…I’m too soft for all this sometimes.” You admitted slowly. “I mean, I can do it, don’t get me wrong. But, Sanji, today was terrifying. And the Grand Line is supposed to be worse.”

That twinkle and smile were back again. “You’re not too soft, sweetheart. You’re perfect. You were strong today, and I know you don’t like fighting. But you’re brave, and you protect those you care about. Being soft doesn’t make you weak.”

“But what if it does?” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “Because–”

You stopped, confessions halting on your lips.

“Because what, sweetheart? Stop hiding yourself, it’s just me.”

“That’s exactly why I’m hiding.”

He frowned in confusion, silently imploring you to continue.

“Because you make me feel soft. I kept my writing to myself because somehow it always ended up being about you. Whether it be the way you look at me or even the fact you kept that pebble.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Apparently he had genuinely thought you hadn’t noticed.

“We’re supposed to be pirates, Sanji. There’s no softness allowed in this profession.”

He gently pulled you a little closer, warm breath now able to be felt on your face as he spoke, “I think we’ve already proven we’re a different sort of pirate than what’s expected, sweetheart.”

You were drowning in an ocean of greyish blue. The little nickname. That tiny sweet nothing. It wore down any and all of the final doubts and reserves in your mind and the two of you melted into each other.

He held you tightly, arms around you as both your hands grabbed tightly to his shirt, the both of you lost in a kiss that seemed like forever.

Eventually it ended, and he rested his forehead gently against yours.

“I’m in love with you, sweetheart.” He said gently. “How’s that for being soft, hmm?”

A small smile formed upon your face. The both of you had been oblivious to the other, yes. But at the same time, all of Sanji’s little sweet nothings over the years–both in words and actions–played quickly through your head. The past week had pulled everything straight to the surface.

“I love you, too.”

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothings.

Not entirely happy with this but it's late. Let me know what you think. I'm still new to this fandom, and there's a lot of content that I've yet to learn about. But I'll get there.

#sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece live action x reader #thismothwrites

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dovesdreaming · 2 months ago

Text

Pirates charm

Summary: You’re the daughter of Meg and Hercules, everyone always compares you to your mother saying your exactly like her. You couldn’t deny it either especially with how you wouldn’t let yourself swoon for Harry hook.

Requested

Masterlist

Being the daughter of Meg and Hercules wasn’t easy. On one hand, you were expected to live up to your father’s reputation. The strong, brave hero of Olympus who could move mountains and defeat titans. People looked at you like you were supposed to be just like him- noble, pure, a shining example of what a demigod should be. But on the other hand, you were also Meg’s daughter. And that meant you were sarcastic, quick-witted, and more than a little cynical. If your dad was all about heroism, you were about surviving in a world where happy endings didn’t always happen. Your mother had made sure you understood that. She’d been there, done that, and wasn’t about to let you fall into the same traps she had.

You were, as people liked to say, the spitting image of Meg. From your sharp wit to the way you carried yourself, always with a knowing smirk and a hint of sass in your voice. You weren’t a wide-eyed optimist like so many people in Auradon. No, you knew better than that. Which was why Auradon Prep had become.. a little boring. The whole "perfect world" thing? Yeah, it got pretty old fast. Sure, there were plenty of bright, smiling faces and happily-ever-afters, but after a while, it all felt a bit fake. Like everyone was just pretending everything was perfect all the time. You needed something different. Something real. And then… Harry Hook showed up.

The first time you met Harry, you were standing by the docks, watching the Isle of the Lost kids as they arrived on their ship. Ben had done his whole "integration" thing, and now, here they were, villains' kids walking the pristine streets of Auradon. It was all very dramatic, with people whispering and staring at the new arrivals, like they were some kind of dangerous animals let loose in a zoo. You didn’t care about most of them. But then, you saw him. Harry Hook.

With his long coat, swaggering walk, and that trademark hook hanging from his hand, he made quite the entrance. His sharp blue eyes scanned the crowd, taking everything in like he was already planning his next move. His smirk was lazy, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes that made you raise an eyebrow. And when his gaze landed on you? Oh, he noticed you too. His eyes flicked over your figure, taking in the sharpness of your features, the confidence in the way you stood. Unapologetic, like you didn’t care what anyone thought. It was enough to make him pause for a second, his smirk faltering before returning even wider.

“Aye, what do we have here?” he murmured as he sauntered over to you, his voice dripping with a Scottish lilt that sounded both amused and intrigued. “Didn’t know Auradon had girls like you”.

You crossed your arms, eyeing him up and down. “What? You thought we were all sunshine and rainbows?” He grinned, his hook tapping against his side as he stopped in front of you. “Somethin’ like that. But I think ye’re more storm clouds, lass. And I like that”. You gave him a dry smile, the corner of your lips lifting. “I aim to disappoint”. Harry’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it grew wider. “Ah, ye’re trouble, aren’t ye? I can tell”. You shrugged, glancing at him with a bored expression. “If you’re looking for damsels in distress, you might want to look elsewhere”. “Damsels?” He raised an eyebrow, his smirk full of mischief. “I don’t do damsels. I like girls who fight back”. You tilted your head, feigning interest. “Good, because I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than need saving”.

He laughed, a deep sound that was rough around the edges, like he wasn’t used to laughing much. But there was something about you that seemed to break through his usual bravado. “Aye, I can tell”. After that, it was like a game between the two of you. Wherever you were, Harry wasn’t far behind, and every time he tried his usual pirate charm on you, you gave it right back with a smart remark or a sarcastic quip. He’d call you “lass” and you’d call him “Hook” with a roll of your eyes, but beneath all the teasing, there was something else. Something you weren’t quite ready to name.

Because despite all the back-and-forth banter, Harry Hook was different from the others. He wasn’t like the perfect princes of Auradon, who threw themselves at you with grand gestures and shining armor. No, Harry was raw. Real. He didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t, and he didn’t expect you to either.You liked that about him, even if you’d never admit it.

One afternoon, you found yourself sitting by the lake, enjoying some peace and quiet when you heard footsteps behind you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was “Should’ve guessed you’d be here” you said, not even turning around as you leaned back on your elbows. Harry sat down next to you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body. “Can’t help meself” he said with a grin. “Ye’re just too much fun to annoy”. You glanced over at him, eyebrow raised. “If this is your idea of fun, you need a hobby”.

“Oh, I’ve got hobbies” he replied, his voice teasing. “But ye’re definitely the most interestin’ one so far”. You rolled your eyes, fighting back the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. “You must be really bored”. Harry chuckled softly, but then his expression shifted, turning more serious. “Ye know, ye’re different from the rest of ‘em”.

That caught your attention. You turned to him, curious. “What do you mean?” He tapped his hook lightly against his leg, looking out at the water. “Auradon, it’s full of people pretendin’ to be somethin’ they’re not. All smiles and pretendin’ everythin’ is perfect. But you?” He looked at you with those intense blue eyes. “Ye don’t pretend. Ye’re real”.’You blinked, not expecting the honesty in his words. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You’d spent so long deflecting with sarcasm and wit that someone seeing through you like that threw you off balance. “I’m just me” you finally said, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. “Nothing special”. Harry’s gaze didn’t waver. “That’s where ye’re wrong, lass”.

There was something in his voice that made your heart skip a beat. You weren’t used to this, this raw, unfiltered honesty. People didn’t talk like that in Auradon. They didn’t look at you like they could see right through the mask. But Harry did. And, gods help you, you liked it. You cleared your throat, breaking the tension. “And here I thought pirates only cared about treasure”. Harry smirked, his teasing nature slipping back into place. “Aye, well, maybe I found somethin’ better”. Your heart did another unexpected flip at that, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you gave him a lopsided smile. “If you think I’m going to swoon, you’ve got another thing coming”. Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, I wouldn’t want ye any other way”.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence after that, the sound of the water lapping against the shore filling the space between you. For once, there were no quips, no banter just a quiet understanding. Maybe you and Harry weren’t so different after all. Maybe, beneath the sarcasm and smirks, you were both just looking for something real. And maybe, just maybe, you’d found it in each other.

Thank you for reading!!

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carvedtits · 26 days ago

Text

𝔤𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 | 𝔞 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶

“but you say i won’t be here forever,

and you’ll wait as long as it takes…”

contains descriptions of gore !!

the wind whistles through the brittle trees, the barn doors shivering along with the animals inside. it was a cold fall, transitioning into an even colder winter. the crops lie shriveled and dried, intensely devoid of life.

“ma, i think we need to reinforce the barn. not much crops left, we can’t afford to lose cattle too,” the girl sighs, staring solemnly at the dilapidated red and white structure through the glass.

“better run along and ask the neighbors for some planks then, we’re all out,” the wrinkled woman waves the girl along, the fading wedding band tan line prominent on her calloused finger.

the girl exits her home, shrugging on her leather coat as she trudges out into the brisk woods. it was late in the day, the sun lacking the warmth she once carried across the fields.

trudging against the frigid wind made the distance between her home and the neighbors’ feel like an eternity, the thick shadows of the trees causing her to hug her own warmth closer. she avoids eye contact with the small wooden structure haphazardly placed in the ground, the constant reminder that this land would never be as it once was.

“what are you doin’ over here girl? it’s freezin’!”, mr. bouvier squints from his porch as the girl approaches.

“my ma sent me over to ask if you had any spare planks, sir. we ran out and our barn is in bad shape,” she shivers as she stills at the bottom of the steps.

“course i got some to spare for you, y/n. come inside first, get ya warmed up,” he waves her inside, a welcoming smile slightly blanketed by his greying mustache.

she hums, nodding frigidly as her boots clack against the thick wood. relief washes over her as he closes the door behind her, rustling clearly being heard from the dining room.

“we’re just gettin’ dinner started, you’re more than welcome to join us. matthew’s been talkin’ an awful lot about you,” he mutters with a grin as he guides her to the spacious kitchen.

a blush creeps on her face while she follows close behind as he navigates his way through the house. their home looked like a mansion in comparison to hers, an awful indication that they were just barely getting by without a stronger set of hands.

“you sure mrs. bouvier wont mind? i’d hate to take any food off your plate,” y/n smiles, the warmth emanating through the home heating her chilled bones.

“you’re welcome anytime, y/n. the wife loves you, thinks you’re a good influence on our matthew,” he winks as we enter the room.

“saw y/n outside when i was checking the mail, thought she’d just stay over for dinner,” he announces as he goes to take a seat at the table, flipping yesterdays newspaper open.

“how are you, y/n, dear? it’s been ages! how’s your mama?”, mrs. bouvier smiles brightly as she continues on the stove.

“she’s been okay,” she nods, “got a few new cattle in so we’re doin’ better.”

mrs. bouvier hums, nodding as she turns the burners off.

the girl notices an empty seat at the table, but before she can question it, as if right on queue, matthew walks into the room.

“hey, matt,” she waves shyly as he takes the seat beside her.

“been a while, y/n, how are you?”, matt asks, scooting closer to the table.

“i’ve been better, probably just the winter blues,” she mutters, quietly enough to go unnoticed by his parents, “you?”

“same here, been reading a lot. you like to read?”, he adjusts the utensils in front of him.

“‘m more into writing..mostly ‘cause i don’t have many books to read,” she chuckles sheepishly, fiddling with a loose thread on her overalls.

“i’ll lend you some of mine, i have a few i know you’ll like,” matt offers, interest piqued by her, once again.

“you sure? it’s cold out, you might get bored one day and want to read one of ‘em,” she says, a slight lilt in her voice.

“then i’ll come over and talk to you about it,” a handsome and inviting grin on his lips as mrs. bouvier begins distributing dinner.

“matthew will ride you back home, i threw in two stacks of hay for the cattle just in case. that there should be enough planks to keep everything nice and warm for ‘em,” mr. bouvier nods with a pat on the horses rear.

“thank you kindly, mr. bouvier. my mama’ll be awful gracious,” y/n nods, their breaths visible and mingling in the icy breeze.

“course, y/n. stop by to see us again soon, we love your company,” he pats her back before heading back to the house.

“get back quick, matthew! think there’s gonna be a storm!”, he hollers back.

“yes, sir!”, matt nods before turning his attention back to her.

“here, i’ll help you up,” he smiles, offering her his hand.

she hums, her cheeks warming up as she tucks her foot into the hook before kicking her other leg over.

“thanks,” she mutters, watching as he effortlessly climbs in front of her.

matt nods before grabbing the reins, leading them towards the woods once again. her arms shakily wrap around his waist as she leans her head against his back. he smells of pine and warmth, a fire in the midst of a blizzard. the kind of fuzzy feeling that revives the rot pooling in your belly and tugging at your heart strings.

“why haven’t i seen you in church?”, matt says over the howling wind, flurries starting to flutter around us.

“haven’t had a way of getting there,” she shrugs, a pang of guilt striking her as her fingers find the cross sitting snugly on her neck.

“your reins broken? we’ve got plent-“

“she passed,” y/n shakes her head, biting back the tremble in her lips as she cuts him off.

“oh…’m so sorry, y/n i- when? if you don’t mind my askin’”, he stiffens at the news, his spine straight as a pencil.

“about two months ago, broken leg. i had to shoot her, she was in so much pain…killed me to see her that way,” her grip on his waist loosens as they approach the dull building. there were no lights on inside, a lack of homeliness, of warmth.

they come to a halt, matt slowly climbs off, his boots hitting the dried leaves with a loud crunch. he silently helps her off, both of her hands in his as he guides her to his level. the moment her shoes hit the ground, his arms are wrapping securely around her figure. he brings her head into his chest, enveloping her in his heat.

“you okay?”, he mutters into her hair, her hands quivering as they find his back.

“she didn’t even help me bury her, matt,” she whimpers into his chest, a rapture of tears flooding her waterline at his concern.

he tightens his grip around her, leaving a gentle kiss on her head as she shakes in his grasp.

“i’m so sorry, bug,” matt cradles her, at a loss for words as she quietly sobs.

“stay the night. i’ll leave this inside the barn and you can ride back with me,” he mutters, gently stroking her hair.

“i don’t wanna impose i-“

“i want you there, y/n,” he shakes his head, leaving a kiss on her temple as he unravels himself from her before guiding the horse to the barn.

as silent as a mouse, she trails behind him, his footsteps leaving just barely visible marks in the damp, white ground. grunts leave his lips as he heaves the hay bales in a tucked away pile just beside the entry way.

“here..let me help,” she offers, a solemn grin on his face as she grabs one end of the pile, him at the other end as they fit the wood through the door like a puzzle piece.

the wind is fierce and unrelenting as they trudge back, the trees catching the buildup of white crystals.

“almost there, you okay?”, matt nearly screams over the angry precipitation.

“‘m alright,” she nods against his back, tucking her head into the thick material of his coat.

it’s a short, but rough ride before they finally tuck the horse back into the barn. their skin burns as the warm air from inside hits them, finally getting out of the harsh storm that was filtering in.

“come on, bug. let’s get you changed,” matt whispers, reaching for her hand as they tiptoe up the freshly refinished stairs.

once in his bedroom, y/n stands awkwardly at the now closed door, not quite sure what to do with herself. she watches matt’s arms stretch, his pale skin doing little to hide the prominent bulging veins as he reaches to grab a plain white shirt.

“here, should fit like a gown on ya,” he grins, sitting the shirt on his freshly made bed.

“thanks,” she says bashfully, looking up into his curious blue eyes.

for just a brief moment, time seems to stop. it was as if nothing mattered. not y/n’s mother, not the dying farm, or the maggots that had surely made a home out of her dear companion, nor the insatiable appetite that she’d grown to have.

matt had a way of bringing the better part of her out. she wasn’t so angry when he was around. that feeling of guilt that gnaws at her lungs, that’d left her gasping so many nights dwindling by the second, so long as his warmth surrounded her. he washed her filth away and reorganized her muddled organs.

“i’ll uh..i’ll leave you to it,” he clears his throat, respectfully turning to gently place his palm on the brass knob.

“wait!”, she says a little louder than she’d liked.

“s-stay..please? could you just…just turn around?”, she mutters, heat rushing to her cheeks as she looks away from his startled gaze.

“yeah…okay, i’ll change too then,” he nods with a small, reassuring smile.

she mutters a quiet ‘thank you’, turning away from him just as he does the same. in a very pure, innocent manner, they shed their clothing, taking extra care not to look in the others direction. it was quiet, sweet. like being in grade school and receiving a love letter from a “secret admirer,” it was a gentle gesture of admiration.

“let me know when you’re done,” she mutters, fiddling with her cuticles as she stands in his baggy shirt.

“done,” he clears his throat, slowly, cautiously turning around to face her.

matt bites back a small smile, her figure blanketed in the t-shirt that would now only be worn by her.

“i’ll sleep on the floor..you can have the bed,” he nods, walking over to his closet to grab a spare blanket.

y/n quietly walks toward him, gently grasping his forearm. as he turns to face her, she smiles bashfully, silently walking into him. she lies her head on his chest, listening to the life inside of him. the blood rushing through his veins, his heart beating so rhythmically, his lungs inflating before he exhales, and his ribs expanding with them.

his arms wrap securely around her body, a sudden need to shield her from something overcoming him as their hearts sync. quietly, he guides her to the bed, sitting himself down first before tugging her beside him. never leaving her grasp, he pulls the wool blanket over each of their bodies, taking extra care to navigate around her limbs.

matt pulls her closer, his warmth enveloping her completely.

“where’d you go all those weeks?”, he whispers into her hair, his thumb caressing her hip.

they sit in silence for a moment, y/n trying to come up with an answer, matt anxiously awaiting it.

“didn’t wanna bring you down with me,” she says, muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

“i’d drown in you and die happy, bug,” his eyebrows furrow, gently kissing her hair as he cradles her closer.

she tries so hard to bite back the quiet sob that stabs and claws at the back of her throat, but it comes spewing out. tears staining his skin as she tries to catch her breath.

“hey, talk to me. let me in,” matt mutters into her slightly damp skin, his lips being placed against her cheek as he moves down to her eye level.

“why are you so warm?”, she whispers, shaking her head as she looks at him with tear-filled eyes.

“god…you’re so warm and you make me want to be better. but i’m horrible, matt,” she sobs, breaking eye contact, “i’m terrible and you deserve better, but i’m selfish. i can’t stay away from you.”

he gently kisses her forehead, allowing her to continue.

“you’re so gentle…too gentle. too kind. it feels so strange, matt,” she whimpers, an urge to pull away, to run makes her head pound. she should leave.

“i feel filthy and undeserving and you make me believe in something beyond this place, this land…but i’m tethered to it and you’re not. you’ll leave me, one day…and i’ll grow old here..die here because there’s no place else that’ll have me. you’ll have a life and a family and a wife and you’ll forget about me,” she rambles, “and all i’ll have is that godforsaken house with my mothers ashes in it,” she whispers, shaking her head.

“i can get us away from here. we don’t ever have to come back…we can go upstate and i’ll-“

“matt,” she shakes her head, “you can’t, you-“

“no, i will,” he mutters, slightly frantic as he kisses her forehead, “i will. just give me until the spring! i’ll go make some extra money in town and save up and we can-“

y/n swiftly places her lips on his, muffling his choked back tears as she gently runs her fingers through his hair. swallowing each others sobs as they frantically grab onto one another, a feeble attempt at trying to preserve this moment, to save each other from inevitably drifting.

she trails kisses to his neck, his hands grasping at her shirt as he silently cries, her touch keeping him just slightly grounded. tears fall from her eyes as his scent infiltrates her senses, she’s drunk on him as she tries to get closer to him. she gently lifts his shirt up, briefly disconnecting her from his skin before she feverishly reattaches her lips to the skin of his chest and he’s so warm. he’s so full of life and so gentle and so soft and she’s so sorry.

“i’m sorry,” she whispers in a dazed state, her movements growing in aggression as she moves back up to his neck, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“i’m so sorry,” she sobs against his lips, their tears seeping into his pillow case as she tries to pull herself away, to save him. but it’s been so long and she’s so hungry and he’s all she’s ever needed.

and then there’s that rush. a giddiness, an insatiable hunger that’s been eating away at her the moment she saw him and she can’t hold it off anymore.

“i love you,” she whispers, the whites of his eyes now full of bulging veins, “i love you,” she repeats.

“i love you,” he kisses her lips so softly and with so much care that it shatters her heart to do what she’s about to do.

for just a brief moment, she pretends that things are better. that after this they’ll see each other everyday, talk for hours about his books, that they’ll save up, and carelessly run off. get married, have children, maybe a boy and a girl with his eyes instead of her dirt brown ones and she’ll get to cook him his favorite dinner and he’ll cradle her tightly one last time as they drift off together.

pine fills her senses as that warm feeling bubbles in her stomach, she lovingly caresses his soft skin. her lips leave his to trail just below his jawline, the sight of his adam’s apple bobbing in anticipation causes her lips to latch onto his pulse point.

she mutters a last ‘i’m sorry,” tears stinging her eyes before she sinks her teeth into his skin. a choked groan leaves his lips as he gently caresses her hair, egging her on as she gets lost in him. his blood pools beneath them as she tugs chunks of flesh from his body.

this was it for her. as close as she could get to him.

the house is blanketed in silence, a loud squelching is all that can be heard as she consumes him. and she’s sobbing as she does so and he’s even warmer inside and his eyes grow heavy as she gnaws at the pink in between his ribs.

she knew, somewhere deep inside her muddled mind, that what she’d down was irreversible. that his parents would never know what exactly happened to their son. and it makes her sob louder because she didn’t mean to. and she only did it because she loved him too. their only son, carried away by her tidal wave, by her greed.

and by the time she’s done all that’s left is his once white shirt and his favorite striped pajama pants, now soaked entirely in his blood. she cries as she removes the shirt he gave her, slipping his shirt and pants on like a second skin. she pulls his boots on over her ankles before quietly walking toward the window. she tugs it open, the draft instantly blowing into the greying room as she climbs out of the window.

the drop to the ground knocked the wind out of her as she lands on her back. the wind is unforgiving and angry as she trudges through the woods. she goes deeper and deeper, further away from the crime scene where her lover once resided. she comes across the hidden lake, the one they’d spent so many days at, bathing in the sun together until nightfall. snowflakes have now piled up along her lash line and in her blood-slick hair.

she slips her feet into the freezing water, slowly submerging her body as her breath quickens. hypothermia begins to take over, her body going into a state of shock as she struggles to hold her breath. her lungs fill with murky ice water, garbled gasps leaving her mouth as her vision starts to blur. his face flashes in her mind as she begins to drift off, the cold turning into an irreversible numbness. she sees him smiling, blush running to the tips of his ears after their first kiss. and when he’d look at her with so much love and so many unspoken words that she’d bursted into tears. and he’s so concerned as he pulls her into his tight embrace, his warmth enveloping her entirely.

and as her throat restricts one last time, she can just barely hear his voice, the taste of him swirling around in her mouth with the earthy water as she returns to the land from which she came. and she found solace in knowing that they’d never be apart again.

𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧 taglist : @sirenedeslily

mimi speaks ❥ this is the first thing i’ve finished in months omg. i promise not everything is gonna be angst but ethel cain and bones and all are all i can think about rn so this is what ur getting. lysm ty for reading 💋

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo oneshot #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo headcanon #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets x you #𝓛ove mimi ⋆. ˚ ᡣ𐭩 . 𖥔 ˚

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kiame-sama · 2 months ago

Note

wait, you already said what you think the twst cast is as monsters, but what do they look like?

Warnings: my twst monster au, almost all characters with names (other than Yuu and Grim) in monster forms, mythical creatures, deer rack point system, measurements given in ft and cm, animal traits, various animal and plant species mentioned, usually I would say to use your imagination to think it up but I have thought about this way too much myself so I may as well share ideas of what they would look like, feel free to draw these monster men and if you do please share with me because I want to see these goobers drawn, some spoilers for Rollo's backstory,

Divus is a Harp Seal Selkie;

- Divus has a black and white fur coat of a Harp Seal with slight spotting pattern similar to Leopard Seals. His coat is always shiny, clean, and wrapped around his shoulders. Divus appears fairly humanoid and close to his canon appearance other than the sharper than normal canines that are closer to the cone teeth of seals. Selkies do not part with their coats lightly so it is very rare to see one without their pelts on their shoulders. His coat is more natural Harp Seal patterning than the clear black and white lines he has in canon.

Sam is a Shadow man;

- White skull markings along his face with burning purple eyes. He has several black tattoos on his skin that move and can even detach into actual shadow to ensnare his prey. There is constantly a darkness around him that seemed to repulse light, making him appear to be surrounded in constant shadow.

Vargas is a Texas-Longhorn Minotaur;

He has very long and large bull horns with the minotaur expression on his lower half making his upper body appear human other than his horns. His lower half is the same shade as his hair with white speckling on the left leg. His tail is often lazily swinging back and forth as he talks.

Trein is a Mountain Lion Sphinx;

- Lower-half is the body of a Mountain Lion with wings, upper half is Trein's usual upper body. He does have a lot of grey and white furs/feathers due to his age in his coat and it is clear he favors his right back leg as it usually sits at an angle. He can often be seen lounging with Lucius in a sunny spot in his classroom when not teaching.

Crowley is a Crow Fae;

- Similar to his appearance in canon TWST, but his large black wings are more prominent as are the iridescent colors in them and his hair. He actually has talons on his hands and not just the golden talons. He does wear golden caps on his talons however and has a medium length train of black tail-feathers.

Ace is a Saanen Satyr;

- He has short twisted horns and his orange hair is also the same color on his goat half- just a bit darker shade. His hooves are an off-white ivory. He does have the little billy-goat scruff of a goatee due to his Satyr heritage.

Deuce is a Rocky Mountain Faun;

- Deuce has large spiral horns and his blue hair is the same color on his goat half- just a shade darker as well with white speckles around his hooves and tail. His hooves are black. Deuce does not have the goatee often seen on Satyrs and Fauns.

Note; it is part of my AU that Satyrs usually have shorter horns and are closer to farm goats in their animal halves. Fauns are closer to mountain goats and therefore have longer more curved horns often seen on rocky mountain rams. Females of both Fauns and Satyrs grow the same large horns, but their horns are often thinner around than the males of their species.

Cater is a Lake Water Nymph;

- Cater is considered unusual among Water Nymphs because of his hair's coloration being a bright red instead of a more blue or green which is more common for Water Nymphs. Cater's hair is closer in color to a red Ludwigia as he is a lake Water Nymph and the flora of lakes tend to have a fair variation of green to red color hues. Cater's bright green eyes are closer to the usual colors of Water Nymphs and he accredits this to his mother who is a river Water Nymph. In the water Cater gets fins more adapted to lake swimming so he is not as strong in currents.

Che'nya is a Bakeneko;

- He is similar to his canon appearance, but the purple and pink of his hair is also visible on the skin of his arms, legs, and back. He also now has a two pronged fluffy tail similarly striped that is often seen waving mischievously behind him.

Trey is a Kelpie Centaur;

- When out of the water, Trey's Centaur half is that of a white horse with a long tail of the same green hair that Trey's human half has. His horse half is closer muscular build to Scottish Draft horses. When in the water, the white fur of his horse half becomes a lake green with fading blue hues. His tail hair becomes more stringy like lake reeds and his fur takes a more prickly quality. His back legs become a large fin when he is submerged completely in deep water, making him more of a Hippocampus in physiology while swimming.

Riddle is a Unicorn Centaur;

- His horse half has a pure white coat with a long tail closer to that of a lion than a horse, but long bright red hair for his tail. Riddle's hooves are a rather lovely golden color that shine like metal, same with the tight spiral horn that sits in the center of his forehead. There is a faded blue star shape at the base of his horn that seems to tattoo his fair skin, he often covers this up with his bangs. His horse half is similar in musculature to that of an Arabian Horse making him appear more dainty than Trey.

Note; Cater is often seen lounging on Trey's back while Trey swims in the Heartslabyul lake with Riddle laying in the grass on the shore. They often spend their afternoons doing this and Cater will frequently try to get Riddle to swim. Thus far, he has been unsuccessful.

Jack is a Gray Wolf Werewolf;

- Unlike his canon appearance, Jack constantly has that wolf-head and white fur all over his body. He can shift between being bipedal or a quadruped with little issue between the two forms of locomotion, meaning his limbs are closer in length than human limbs. He has fur similar in length to wolves and even has paw-like hands. His tail is frequently wagging whenever he is with friends or those he is fond of.

Ruggie is a Spotted Hyena Gnoll;

- Similar to Jack, Ruggie now has a Hyena head and pelt instead of just the ears and tail. He is still somewhat humanoid, but he is still shorter than Leona or Jack. His back legs are more like a Hyena and he has that same muscular ridge on his shoulders that Hyenas do. He still has his bright blue eyes despite how odd it is for Gnolls, but his coat is the same sandy light-brown as his hair usually is with dark brown spots.

Leona is a Nemean Lion;

- Nemean Lions are golden furred beasts much larger and stronger than any regular lion on top of being impervious to damage from mortal weapons. This translates into Leona's skin having a more golden sheen to it, always seeming to look like he has been dusted with fine powder gold sparkles. His dark hair has several bright gold strands woven in that makes it shiny as well. The fur on Leona's tail and ears is also that glittering golden color which only makes the tuft of fur at the end of his tail look darker. He is a little taller than in cannon and slightly more defined in musculature due to the natural strength of Nemean lions.

Azul is a Coconut Octopus Cecaelia;

- He is very similar to how he appears in canon, but now he has several black marks along his arms and body similar to how he looks in his merman form. Even in a human form, it is clear Azul is still not human due to these dark markings that wrap around his body. A few of these black tendrils frame his cheekbones and make those brightly colored eyes of his only seem brighter.

Jade and Floyd are Moray Eel Mermen;

- Similar to Azul, Floyd and Jade look similar to how they do in cannon, but their merman features are more visible even in their human forms. The fins they have alongside their faces are now present in their human forms as are the colorations of their merman forms on their shoulders and faintly around their faces. Their gills are still visible in their human forms.

Kalim is a Genie;

- Kalim is the closest out of everyone to his canon appearance as his identity as a Genie changes very little. He will likely wear clothes akin to his dorm clothes appearance but have the addition of golden bands around his wrists and ankles. He can form legs to walk on, but often chooses to fly instead, where his legs become more smoke-like in the typical Genie 'tail' that many Genies are often seen with. Kalim now has a golden aura around him that makes him glow slightly with a golden color due to his high-magic Genie nature.

Note; Kalim sleeps in his lamp and keeps many of his treasures in his lamp as his magic allows the lamp to be more like a hotel suite than a prison cell despite the size on the outside. Only Kalim and those he invites into his lamp can enter.

Jamil is a Sand Viper Naga;

- Jamil's upper half is similar to how it is in canon, but his lower half is that of a rather large snake. His shake half is 22ft (670cm) comprised of black and maroon scales. His maroon scales are closer to the color of dried blood and often get dark enough shades that they mix with the black diamond and striping patterns his black scales make. The scales on the stomach side of his snake body are a slightly more red tone than his skin tone. He does have golden scales that line his stomach scales and are in the center of the diamond patterns on his back.

Note; Jamil often sleeps with Kalim's lamp in the coils of his Naga tail. Having come from a long line of Naga that are usually the guards and guardians of the wealth and well-being Kalim's Genie family has amassed through the years. Wherever a Genie from Kalim's family lives, so too lives a Sand Viper Naga from Jamil's family to guard them.

Vil is a Peacock Harpy;

- Vil still has his flawless skin and purple ombre hair even as a peacock harpy, but he does have hair-like cobalt blue and emerald green feathers that often get woven into braids. He also has seven pristine head feathers that are the same 'eye' patterns as his tial feathers that often lay back against his hair unless he is feeling particularly proud, in which his crest will rise up like a crown atop his head. Vill has feathering along his shoulders, upper back and neck that are the bright cobalt blue of male Indian peacocks. Along his shoulder blades are his wings which have a full span of 8ft (244cm) but are often tucked neatly against his back and folded so the flight feathers don't drag when he walks. Vil has the full peacock train of tail-feathers and spends quite a bit of time preening and grooming them to maximum shine. He will only fully display his tail-feathers when being prideful or showing off to a prospective mate.

Rook is an Australian Golden Huntsman-Spider Drider;

- Rook's legs are a long spindly gold that are many times the length of his thorax and abdomen. The thorax of his spider body is larger than the abdomen of the body due to the typical shape of Huntsman-Spiders. The thorax area on Rook's spider body has a large black mark among the back hairs trailing down to where the abdomen part of his body is more narrow and the marks become black lines making their way down. His human half is attached at the top of the thorax where the spider's eyes are usually located. His spider legs are as thick as a Human's legs, his mandibles and pedipalps being similar in thickness. His fangs are to scale and are extremely long as well as being like blacked curved knives, he often keeps them tucked away to not unsettle others.

Note; Rook and Vil have a very mutually beneficial relationship just as they do in regular TWST. Rook helps Vil preen and take care of his feathers, often being the one getting the pin feathers Vil can't reach on his back and shoulders. Rook uses the silk he creates as a Drider to make fabrics for Vil as they are of high quality, and even higher thread count. Both are content to be the others boon companion and will often be seen working together outside of class as well.

Neige is a Mourning Dove Harpy;

- Neige has the same dark black hair and big brown doe eyes he does in cannon but he also has grey-brown feathers throughout his black hair. His cheeks, neck, shoulders, and upper back have the same gray-brown feathers with speckles of dark brown, white, black, and gray feathers throughout giving a light speckling pattern. His wings are that same gray brown color and are 6.5ft (200cm) in length. The ends of his flight feathers are often trailing over the ground beneath him when he is relaxed and he rarely opens his wings fully. Like most mourning doves, he has a lovely soothing voice and his unassuming species of Harpy makes him all the more charming.

Note: I was going to make Neige a Willow Grouse Harpy due to the coloration match with Neige and his RSA uniform, but I have a childhood fondness for the call of a mourning dove and Neige is supposed to have a beautiful voice, so I figured sweet Neige can be a mourning dove and not the goofy sounding Willow Grouse.

Epel is a Beliy Naliv Apple Wood Nymph;

- Epel has white tree bark as skin, occasionally having the slight dark mark or blemish where Epel had gotten into fights despite being a more peaceful species of Wood Nymph. His hair is made up of pale green leaves that are often covered in powder lavender blooms that are the same color as his canon hair color. Epel has the same large blue eyes as he does in canon. Occasionally the blooms on his head will grow into small apples that are white due to his species of Wood Nymph being the White Cloud Apple. His skin is rougher in texture and closer to the texture of bark.

Idia is a Shinigami;

- He still has his blue flaming hair and blue tinted lips and gold eyes. His skin is closer to a light gray in tone now, his nails a natural black. He now has these scraggly black wings that are kind of like bird wings but more haggard in appearance. The feathers are more slick and almost oily in texture and have some traces of blues in them similar to Idia's hair. He can use them to fly, but they make a very loud wooshing sound that he isn't overly fond of so he doesn't often use them. His limbs are just a bit longer than they are in canon giving him a more skeletal and gaunt appearance.

Ortho is also a Shinigami;

- Similar to Idia, Ortho still has his blue flaming hair and golden eyes. He will have the same light gray skin tone Idia does, but his wings are now cybernetic due to an unfortunate accident when Ortho was much younger that caused him to lose his Shinigami wings. Ortho also has several cybernetic limbs as a result of that same accident, making monster AU ortho closer in appearance to canon Ortho, but still able to eat/sleep/behave like a living being. Ortho is not AI but does have several augments to allow his brain to function with the aid of AI due to his unfortunate incident when he was younger.

Silver is a Reindeer Cervitaur;

- Silver is a leucistic deer cervitaur. This means his deer half has white fur as well with light gray spots along his back similar to the spots fawns have for camouflage purposes. His antlers are also an ivory white, and only have three points. From burr to tip of the beam, Silver has two points at the end of the beam and one point near the burr of his antlers. Lilia throws a party any time Silver gets another point on his antlers. Silver's deer half has the musculature type closer to reindeer than whitetail deer.

Lilia is a Vampire Bat Fae;

- Similar to his canon appearance, Lilia looks almost the same in his monster AU form, but his monster AU form has bat wings and a little tail. Most bats have tails and delicate wings, so I decided Lilia should also have bat wings and a little tail. His wings are sturdier than most bats and have several holes in them from past battles he has endured. He is still the Fae variation so he has the same pointed ears, sharp teeth, and slit pupils other Fae type have. His wings are black with Light pink highlights near the tips just like his hair.

Note; Lilia likes to sleep upsidedown in this AU and will often settle himself in the cafeteria chandeliers or even the rafters of various buildings to take naps throughout the downtimes of the day. Lilia is more nocturnal in this AU as well with increased sensitivity to sounds/lights.

Malleus is Dragon Fae.

- Malleus in the monster AU is similar to his canon appearance but has his dragon wings, tail, and various clusters of black scales along his body. His nails are decent length black talons and he has black scales along the backs of his hands and up his arms. His neck and upper back/shoulders have more black scales. His wings are the same deep black with a slight purple tint to them anywhere the skin is exposed. His tail is about as thick as a leg and tapers off to a wickedly sharp point that Malleus could use to impale someone if he wanted to. Black scales frame his eyes like their own kind of makeup and are more colorful around the eyes in purples and green sheens that highlight the obsidian base color of the scales.

Note; Malleus is more in touch with his dragon instincts in this AU due to being more outwardly dragon. He does make a nest out of his bed and is much more inclined to hoard things he is fond of, including but not limited to Gargoyles, unusual stones, and various creatures he takes interest in. Once he considers someone to be part of his hoard, he will be possessive of them and fiercely protective. Only creatures part of his hoard are allowed to enter his nest. Lilia, Silver, and Sebek are three of his living hoard.

Sebek is a Raiju Fae;

- His hair is a bit more wild and fur-like compared to his canon appearance with yellows mixed in to the sage green color. His teeth are much sharper and he actually has more dog-like qualities similar to Jack's canon appearance. Raiju are lightning dog mythical creatures, so Sebek's appearance will be similarly dog-like with the beastman ears and spiky furred tail that has a rougher texture compared to most fur. His tail and ear positioning will often be a dead giveaway for what emotions Sebek is feeling at the time.

Rollo is an Inferno Fire Nymph.

- Rollo's eyes are an ashen gray as is his skin and hair when he is not in his active inferno flame form. Much like a burned log, his flesh will bare the same ashen faded look to it. Rollo is usually in this form as he is not overly fond of the fire he creates and he can keep himself mostly calm despite the constant annoyance of others around him. When in his active inferno fire form, his ashen hair will ignite into flames, his gray eyes turning a bright fire red. Similarly, his skin will take a redder tone and embers will float off of his hair.

Note: Rollo's fire can burn others, but he can also consciously change the temperature of his flames to only warm and not harm if he felt so inclined. He would only willingly do this for someone he deeply loved and cared for as his full flame form reminds him far too much of his deceased brother, hence why he uses it sparingly. There are many types of Fire Nymphs, but Inferno Fire Nymphs are considered the most deadly as their flames get the hotest. Young Fire Nymphs cannot control their fire and can burn themselves out if they get too hot internally.

#kiame-sama #x reader #reader insert #twst monster au #monster au #Humans are Extinct TWST AU

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troublesomesnitch · 1 year ago

Text

Abraham (Grantchester) x Reader

Inspired by Ewanmitchellcrumb's amazing Abraham fics, in particular this one.

Contents: smut. first kiss, making out, dry humping, handjob. Porn without plot (and porn without penetration).

Warnings: arranged marriage, oldfashioned gender roles and attitudes towards sex and marriage. Abraham being dickish (but he's trying to be nicer)

Words: 3600

Purity culture and dry humping, name a more iconic duo, i'll wait.

The rain is beating hard against the tin roof.

You are huddled up against the wall, your arms wrapped tightly around your legs to keep warm. You had gone out for an afternoon walk to find some peace and quiet, and maybe pick some of the first little spring flowers, when you were suddenly caught in a torrential downpour. Not too keen on the idea of sprinting all the way home, you scrambled to take shelter in the first place you could think of: a dilapidated shed at the edge of a muddy field. The old farmer used to store tools and machinery there, but now it stands abandoned and in disrepair, full of cobwebs and mouse droppings.

If one was alone it might be quite an unnerving place, located as it is right on the border of the woods.

But you are not alone.

Abraham is sitting right across from you, dressed in his usual plaid jacket and red neckerchief, his long legs stretched out on the floor. When you stumbled inside he was already there, having sought shelter from the rain himself.

You only narrowly managed to convince him to stay.

As a young, unmarried girl, you are not supposed to be alone with men. Not even with Abraham - especially not with Abraham. The two of you will be getting married in just over a month, but the rules of courtship are strict, and every minute you spend with him must be chaperoned. Something that he has, surprisingly, taken very seriously. Maybe because his first attempt at an engagement didn't exactly work out as planned.

Still, your parents are satisfied with the match, and for the most part, you are too. Abraham is quite handsome, you think, with those splendid blue eyes, and he's just a few years older than you. A little rough around the edges, but he doesn't mind hard work, and he is good with children and animals, and those are fine qualities in a man.

Sometimes, he lets you sit and watch while he cares for his horses; cleans their stalls and their hooves, brushes their coats, takes them out to the pasture for excercise. He speaks so calmly to them, firm voice when they disobey him and soft when they are skittish or scared, and there is something so endearing about it. You wonder if he will speak to you in the same way once you're married. Harsh when you disappoint him, but gentle when he lies on top of you at night. You'd like that, you think.

Right now, Abraham doesn't speak to you at all. It is not too out the ordinary, as he isn't particularly talkative in the first place, but you had hoped that being alone with you might loosen him up a little. Instead, it seems to have had the opposite effect, and for the past twenty minutes or so, he has occupied himself with throwing pebbles and broken bits of plaster at a glass jar on the floor.

Not the most riveting pastime - but it does give you an idea.

"How about we make a game of it" you suggest, when the silence has become so deafening you can hardly bear it. "Best of five. If you win, I'll bring you lunch tomorrow - anything you want."

"Yea?" Abraham hums, looking up and right at you, clearly intrigued.

"And If I win - " you pause, a deep scarlet blush creeping up your neck. "If I win, I want a kiss".

"No" he says, right away and with a stern expression, his mouth forming a thin line.

"Just one -"

"No" he repeats, but it's a little softer this time, and he gives you a cocky half-smile. "You'll get one soon enough, don't you worry about that".

"But I won't win" you try. "You know I won't. Or" - you eye him teasingly- "do you really think you might loose to a girl?"

It's the same argument you would use against your little brother, and when Abraham's face settles into something very offended, you can hardly believe it actually worked. But all boys are the same apparently, even when they're grown men. Always have something to prove to the world and themselves and each other.

"I win - " he grumbles, "you bring lunch every day, rest of the week. And your mum's cider."

It's Wednesday today. Four days isn't a lot, you can manage that. There's not much cider left, but Mum will understand, she'll be happy to know that you're taking good care of your soon-to-be husband.

"Alright then" you nod. "You go first."

The odds are against you, because Abraham has had plenty of time to practice already, something you forgot to consider when you issued the challenge. But you are determined put up a good fight, not only because you ache to know what kissing is like, but also because you want to know what Abraham is like. If he's rough or gentle. If he's a passionate lover, or someone who just wants you to lie still and be quiet when he performs his marital duties.

As expected, his first stone goes straight into the glass; yours unfortunately bounces off the side of it. But then Abraham narrowly misses his second one, while yours actually hits the intended target. It gives you at least a glimmer of hope.

And then, something happens. Something very strange.

Abraham picks a rather large stone, but he overshoots by just a little and it lands on the dusty floor.

And the next one does too. And the one after that.

It must be on purpose, it must be. But his face betrays nothing at all, only the same disgruntled expression he always wears, and soon there's only one pebble left. Your very last one, and it lands in the glass with a loud plink.

"I won" you state, in complete disbelief, and the corners of Abraham's mouth twitch up a little.

"Looks like it, yea"

You eye him with suspicion. "But you hit - you got four in a row just before we started -".

"Beginner's luck" he shrugs, rising to his feet and brushing his hands on his trousers. When you hesitate, he cocks his head. "C'mere".

You do not need to be told twice, instantly flitting to his side and tilting up your face like you've seen ladies do in the movies. Abraham breathes deeply, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer. He smells nice, like fresh rain and firewood and a little bit like damp wool. You close your eyes.

"You ever kissed a man before?" he murmurs, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning over your face.

You shake your head - of course you haven't.

There's no response to that, only calloused hands touching your face, Abraham's nose brushing your temple. He bends his head, and when he presses his lips to yours, you are not prepared for how soft they are, and how warm, and how gentle. His mouth opens slightly, his tongue slipping just past your lips, and then he releases your face and pulls back.

"There" he mutters, but you are not ready to part from him yet. Your hands cling to his jacket and your eyes are heavy and hooded when they flutter open.

"Again" you breathe.

He shouldn't, he really shouldn't, you are absolutely not allowed to do such things before the wedding. But Abraham is a young man, and since your engagement was officially agreed upon, he has surprisingly managed to stay out of trouble - mostly, at least - and away from neglected young housewives and the reverend's shapely daughters. It has been... a while since he last touched a girl, and you are the prettiest little thing, with your wet, parted lips and your hair frizzed from the rain. How could he possibly resist when you're looking up at him like that, begging for more?

Your first kiss was sweet and demure, but this time, Abraham wraps both arms around your waist and runs his hands up your back. He nibbles at your lower lip before he slides his tongue into your mouth, deeper this time, so he can brush it against your own. When you mewl it goes straight to his crotch, and he deepens the kiss, tilting your head to the side with a finger under your chin.

You mustn't, you shouldn't, you can't, but your body is burning with want, and you think Abraham's must be too. He's holding you closer, letting his hands wander over your body, your hips, your waist, the small of your back. They move to squeeze your bottom, and when he pushes his hips forward, there's something hard poking at your stomach.

It sends a jolt of excitement down your spine.

In theory, you know what a man looks like under his clothes. The men work outside in the summer, and many take off their shirts and roll up the legs of their trousers in the heat. But you have never seen a man fully naked, and you have never felt a man's body pressed up against you like this. Abraham's chest is hard, and his shoulders are broad, and his arms feel so strong when they're wrapped around you. He moves to kiss just below your ear, and you take the opportunity to let your hands roam tentatively over his chest and his stomach, even reaching under his jacket to feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt.

It's nice, but it isn't enough to satisfy your curiosity. You want to touch him there.

Abraham breaks the kiss when he feels your hand inching towards his crotch, but he doesn't stop you. Just looks at you stunned, with darkened eyes and a slight flush across his handsome nose. His... his - cock is straining in his pants, and you brush your fingers over the bulge, feeling how he hardens even more at your touch. It is clumsy and inexperienced, but Abraham still closes his eyes, and his hand comes down to cover yours and press it harder against him.

It feels good for him, despite your lack of practice; you can tell. You cup his crotch, and he lets out a sharp breath and bucks right into your palm. You tilt your face up again to kiss along his jaw as you rub him through his trousers, feeling how he swells and throbs from your touch, until he suddenly swats your hand away.

You worry that you have overstepped, or done something that hurt him, but he leans over you, and tugs at your hips - to pull you down with him, you realise. Right down to the floor, although he is at least gallant enough to shrug of his jacket and lay you on that, rather than directly on the ground.

Immediately, he starts on the buttons of your coat, almost ripping the garment open to part it from your chest. His hands greedily palm your breasts, covered only by your dress and the brassiere underneath, and he squeezes your flesh; pinches your nipples through the fabric and rolls them under his thumbs. They stiffen from his touch and he leans over you and brushes his mouth against your chest, even latching onto one pert nipple, sucking and biting until your dress is wet from his spit.

It makes you whine with both pleasure and pain, and surprise too. You have never been touched like this before, never felt wanted like this before. Abraham's eyes are dark with lust, and it is almost frightening how determined he looks when he hooks a hand under each of your knees to push them apart.

You gasp when he lays over you. His body is warm, and heavy, and it feels so right to lie like this underneath him, caged in by his arms and with your thighs spread wide around his hips. His cock is big and hard and he presses the thick bulge between your legs, and grunts softly at the feeling. You can't help but wonder how many girls have been underneath him before, because he's so unabashed in the way he pushes his hips against yours, so eager when he starts rocking back and forth, clearly mimicking... other things.

Your hands cling to his shirt and you arch up to kiss him again, sighing when catches your lip between his teeth. They don't kiss like this in the movies. At least not in the ones you have seen. Your mouth is wide open, and Abraham is absolutely devouring it, licking your lips, shoving his tongue all the way to the back of your throat. It is rough and needy, and there's a trail of spit between you when he pulls back to catch his breath.

If someone found out, you'd be in so much trouble. Abraham is on you, and his cock is stiff, and he is moving so intimately against you, but you can't bring yourself to stop him. It feels wonderful, having his weight on top of you, having his hard cock pressed against your center. His bulge is big and hard and heavy between your thighs, and he's groaning as he rubs it against you, rolling his hips steadily, rhythmically. As though he was really inside you, and you are not sure if it's on purpose or pure instinct, or maybe a bit of both.

It has you swooning, just thinking about it. How badly he must want you, how needy he must feel, his cock all hard and swollen and his balls so full of his - his come. The thought of it makes you sigh, makes you feel soaking wet, makes that tingling warmth spread even faster in your loins. There are so many things are happening in your body; the kissing, the rubbing, the pressure between your legs - God you've never felt anything like it. You squirm underneath him and spread your thighs wider.

it makes Abraham groan, your hands on his chest and the way your hips are bucking and circling against his cock, and fuck he'll go crazy if you keep making those noises, those soft little whimpers. His cock is pulsing and his balls are pulled tight, and seeing your face all twisted with pleasure has him leaking already.

Truthfully, it was Pal's idea that he should pursue you, just like it was Pal who first spoke to your father on his behalf - but as you are a sweet and pretty girl, Abraham could see no reason why he shouldn't go along with it. He is a grown man, and a grown man needs a wife, and he likes looking at your legs when you help your mother with the laundry. Especially when you wear that grey dress that is a little too tight around your hips. Once you're married he will buy you a brand new one, and a nice pair of shoes with a little heel, and you'll be such a pretty little wife, cooking his meals and washing his clothes and giving him kisses when he comes home.

He moves faster, pressing his hard bulge even tighter against you, and you can feel something building in your body, though you are only barely aware of what it is. Your muscles are tightening and tensing up, desperate for a release that you instinctively know how to find, and you arch your hips up and rub frantically against Abraham's cock. You need more, more friction, more pressure just there, and you hook a leg over his back so you can push up better. Abraham lets you chase your peak, even helps you along by sliding his hand underneath your bottom to press you tighter against him. He is utterly mesmerised by the sight, your blissful expression as you shamelessly use his body for your own pleasure, sighing and whimpering and grinding your little cunt so desperately against him.

When he kisses you again, all the tension breaks.

You gasp, and Abraham watches you intently as a series of tiny little shivers run through your body. A very gentle climax - your first, by the looks of it. You writhe and moan beneath him, and when the waves of your orgasm settle, you are all blushed and looking up at him with glazed, love-struck eyes.

He could probably coax you into sleeping with him right now if he wanted to, but in a - frankly rare - moment of chivalry, he decides against it. You're a sweet girl, saving yourself for marriage and all. Your first time should be somewhere nicer than in this cold, filthy shed.

One way or another though, he will make you finish him off properly, and he sits back on his heels and quickly unbuckles his belt. Abraham's cock is impressive in size, and he is very proud of it; always enjoys the look of amazement on a girl's face when he frees it from his trousers.

You look equal parts intrigued and horrified. It is much bigger than you had anticipated, long, pink and bulbous at the tip, and he boldly gives it a few quick tugs as you watch. Even in his hand it looks massive, and you wonder how on earth it'll ever fit inside you, but that is an issue for another day, because Abraham mutters here and reaches for your hand. Your fingers wrap cautiously around his shaft, and it is hard, stiff, and yet so soft at the same time. You have no idea what to do, but Abraham's hand closes over yours, guiding the strength of your grip and the pace of your strokes.

It turns out that pleasing a man is not difficult at all. All you have to do is move your hand up and down, dragging the skin over the tip of his cock and back down again in a quick and firm rhythm. Abraham dips his head into the crook of your neck, and his hands come up to fondle your breasts, his teeth gritted and his eyes squeezed shut. You quickly grow more comfortable with the motion, and you slip your other hand between his legs to fondle his balls too - carefully, as you know that is a very delicate area for a man. They feel big, and hairy, and heavy in your hand, and he moans when you squeeze them lightly, trying your best to massage them in a way that gives him pleasure.

It would seem that you succeed, because it isn't long before Abraham's body tenses and his balls tighten right in your grip.

" - gonna come" he grunts, and you can't help but hold your breath in anticipation.

Abraham groans, and his cock pulses in your hand, and then his semen starts spurting from the tip. There's so much of it, spilling all over your fingers in thick, sticky ropes, and you keep stroking him through his peak, taking in his ragged breaths, the shallow jerks of his hips, the deep furrow of his brow. It is the loveliest thing you've ever laid eyes on, and when he stills your hand and collapses next to you on the floor, your chest swells with pride. You made him do that.

"Fuck" he pants. There's a lock of hair sticking to his forehead, and you are dying to reach over and gently brush it back, but you are too shy to be so familiar.

"Was it good?" you ask instead, hoping for praise or maybe a nice compliment, but Abraham just gives a hoarse laugh as he tucks his cock back into his trousers. You look away. Despite what you did just a moment ago, looking at it now feels terribly indecent.

Outside, the rain has stopped, the wind has died down, and it is high time for you to return home. You wipe your hand clean with a handkerchief - you can rinse it in the stream on the way back - and turn away from him as you smooth out your skirt and button your coat.

"What do you want" Abraham asks suddenly. "For your wedding gift. What do you want?"

Immediately, you start going through all the lists in your head - there are a hundred things to consider when setting up a new household, clothes and dishware and furnishing, and the little hope chest under your bed is already filled to the brim.

"Well-" you begin, "I'll get linens from my mother, and you already have the stove sorted, and Cora said we could have her old cast iron skillet, but we should probably start saving for a -"

"No" he interrupts, impatiently. "Forget all that, what do you want from me"

He looks sheepish and uncomfortable and it takes you a moment to realise that he is trying to be attentive - maybe even romantic.

It makes you want to throw your arms around his neck.

"I don't know" you mutter, blushing all over again. "I haven't thought about it - you don't have to give me anything"

"I'll get you something. Something pretty, yea?" he grins, wide enough that his cheeks crease and dimple - God, he's awfully charming sometimes, when he wants to be.

You blush even deeper, picking at your nails and responding with an awkward yes, yeah alright.

Abraham doesn't say anything after that, already back to his usual sullen demeanor - but right before the door closes behind you, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you back to kiss you right on the mouth.

You make your way back home, warm all over from the kiss and the excitement and the lingering heat in your core. And maybe a little bit just from the very thought of Abraham himself.

I have never posted fics to tumblr before, please let me know if there's anything wrong with it!

#abraham is criminally underrated in the ewanverse #abraham grantchester #abraham x reader #ewan mitchell #abraham grantchester x reader

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bloodycassian · 7 months ago

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Damsel in distress - reader x Rhysand oneshot

Reader is rescued from torture by Rhysand. Short.

Warnings - things you'd expect in a torture scene.

Okay, maybe going on a solo mission during the Starfall party wasn’t the most educated decision. And maybe not telling anyone but Azriel where you were, and swearing him to secrecy wasn’t the strongest idea. Because now Rhysand, the shadowsinger and Cassian were likely all walking straight into a trap.

“That High Lord has trained you well.” The King’s own personal torturer muttered in his thick accent, his scarred throat bobbing with the words. He had the look and sound of a male who’d spent a lot of time screaming, and learning the secrets of what made others do the same.

Even through the blood dribbling in your eyes you could see how he took pleasure in this torture. His every slice into your flesh had him gleeful, you could smell a hint of arousal in it when your nose wasn’t blocked up. He’d suspended you upside down, making all the blood he’s spilled roll onto your neck then to your face. Your hair was coated and stiff with it, like a animal’s fur. Soon, you suspected they may be gutting you just the same.

the bindings at your wrists and ankles burning with every slight movement. The way his mind slammed into your mental walls was relentless and unending as the tides. The darkness of his thoughts would roll back, collect then slam into you over and over, testing for any weak spot to creep into. Your mind was a ship slowly losing buoyancy.

“Tell me where to find The Library and you’ll be allowed to live.” He repeated, his tone as clear and neutral as if you were having a brunch together.

You’d spit if you had the courage to do it. Truthfully, this male was terrifying. The daemati abilities alone would have been enough to best anyone not trained directly from Rhys. That and his pleasure for inflicting pain created a deadly combination.

A loud thud sounded in the hallway, the wooden door rattling on it’s hinges. The male stiffened, straightening and setting the carving knife aside in favor for the sword at his back.

The door did not open or slam against the wall, it simply shattered. The wooden splinters of it shredding into the room, some of them embedding into your skin. The pain of it is nothing compared to the long cuts from the knife.

The male takes in a long breath, and smiles. “Even better than I expected.” He muttered, then rushed to the door.

The sounds were all that told you there was someone there to rescue you. Azriel’s sharp hiss of pain, and the clash of steel as they fought. You couldn’t move, could barely open your eyes with the sweat that burned them. Surely it wasn’t just Azriel here to rescue you?

The clatter of a sword against the stone floor, then silence filled the air. Your ears strained for something, anything to indicate that Azriel had survived. Tension had your muscles aching, your bruised body struggling for relief.

Near silent footsteps ghosted over the floor, approaching slowly. You cracked an eye, and blue light shed over the dark walls. A sob escaped you.

Then there was shouting. Echoing, frantic shouting and someone was at your side, cradling you in the air while Azriel worked on your restraints. The sobs wracked your body, shaking you hard. Someone, a familiar scent and sound comforted you.

“I’m here. Dammit, I’m here.” Rhysand. Rhysand- Your sobs turned hysterical, and you pawed at his chest, pulling him as close as you could possibly be. This scent, this male was your home, your everything.

“Dont ever pull this kind of stunt again.” He growled in your ear, and you nodded fervently in agreement. He said something to Azriel, and another, likely Cassian.

“It was supposed to be a trap…” You sniffed, lifting your head, then letting it fall back to Rhys’s chest. The dizziness was overwhelming, and your limbs ached with every movement. “for all three of you, how-”

“There’s not a force on this planet that could keep me from you.” Rhys said low in your ear. Your stomach flipped and your cheeks heated, though you knew now just how true the words were.

“Seven dead generals and two guardsmen, not bad for something out together so quickly.” Cassian said admiringly, nudging Azriel with an elbow.

“It wouldn’t have had to been so quick had someone not sworn me to secrecy.” Azriel shot you a dirty look, and guilt washed over you. If Rhys had shamed his brother at all you’d-

“If someone hadn’t tried to turn vigilante, you mean.” Rhys corrected, but squeezed you tighter in his arms. He started out of the cage you’d been trapped in, stepping over the body of the male who’d bled you for days.

“I mean it, don't ever do this to me again. Promise me that.” Rhys said, and you nodded against his chest, unconsciousness finding you swiftly in his arms.

#acotar #reader x rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #reader x rhys #acotar fic

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coltermorning · 11 months ago

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A Christmas to Remember (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: You and Arthur have agreed to meet on the night of Christmas Eve. The evening and the following day turn out to be more than either of you expected.

Author’s Notes: Just some good ole fluff for the holidays! Set a year or so down the road from the events of RDR2, and in this instance Arthur never got sick and rides alone now.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, implied sex, fluff

AO3 Link

A Christmas to Remember

Word count: 5994

The firelight flickered, throwing shadows across the wooden walls, shimmers of gold rising and collapsing in the night. The room was warm, comfortable for all the drafty air threatening to cut through it. It never quite managed to get in, like the flames stood guard in their grate, pushing against the inevitable winter.

The room had been decorated for the season with a tree and garland and ribbon and light. This place had likely never seen such decoration until the end of the year, the woody smell seeping into the very walls it was so thick. The source of it, a small pine, was standing crooked in the corner. It was a promise of what was to come. Inviting and, had the room not already held its heat, warm. Perfect for the occasion.

On the night before Christmas, you were perched by the window, ignoring the beauty of the room surrounding you in favor of the company you awaited. Mr. Morgan, a promise to meet you here not having left your thoughts since the moment it parted from his lips. You had your gift, your best clothes, expectation wrapped around you like a bow. And yet, all there was to do was wait. To feel the anticipation for his arrival and let all else fall away.

The minutes passed, and soon there was a horse coming up the path with its familiar white spots flashing in the night. That white would normally stand out more but for the snow, falling thick and slow in the December air. It made Valentine prettier. It made the mud seem less untidy somehow, more familiar.

You felt a smile curve your lips when you saw just the man you waited for approach, his hat slung low, his blue coat fastened tight around him. You watched him encourage his horse onward until he rounded the building out of sight. You wondered if he would stable the animal or not, caring as always or too taken by his haste at seeing you. How that eagerness of his for you made you giddy. To be known and to be wanted anyway.

You left your place by the window and took in the room with a sweeping glance. The lights, the smell, the warmth. It was homey in the same way he was. A welcome respite to come back to, a place to look forward to when things got hard.

You stood closer to the fire, knowing sitting was useless when all you wanted was to embrace him the moment he walked through the door. It had been too long. So you remained standing if a little impatient, feeling the nerves that quickened your heartbeat course through you. You would be parting with more than just a gift tonight, and the very thought made you restless. But you owed it to him. He deserved it.

You fiddled with a piece of ribbon tied on the garland that framed the fireplace when you heard bootsteps in the hall, heavy and determined. They made you smile. But for all his bravado, he knocked softly on the door when he reached it, as if you would whisk away into nothingness the moment he did. Like a dream and nothing more.

“Come in,” you answered, and your gentle words were all it took for him to regain that sense of pride. The door swung open, and nothing could have suited you better than the smile he wore, the light in his eyes when they landed on you.

“Y/N.” It was a happy sound. Not a greeting so much as a satisfied release of breath. Your feet were moving before you could respond.

You hugged the man you had been missing for weeks, wishing like always that the pair of you could make this permanent enough to keep you together for longer than an evening.

“I missed you,” you whispered, sinking into the feeling of him holding you. His coat was cold but his warmth outweighed it, swallowing you in the scent of tobacco smoke and outside air. You had missed that smell so much your chest ached with it.

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” he said. Always so intentional. Always saying just what he thought. You adored that about him.

You pulled back to look at him but remained in his arms. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Morgan.”

“Christmas Eve,” he corrected. “We still have a few hours yet.” Then his eyes were filling with meaning like they always did before he kissed you. The look that said nothing in the world mattered more than this. You tilted your chin up, happy to greet it with all the love you held for him. He leaned in with that enamored look, and his lips met yours with the soft release of anticipation for all the days spent waiting. All the days apart that would be dreadful if not for the knowledge that you would have this again. You kissed him back just as slow and soft, like this was what it took to remember.

The pair of you got a bit lost in each other until you could hear his breathing grow heavy. It always did that, and it never failed to make your heart race in kind.

You pulled away and looked into those ocean water eyes. “I got you something.”

He quirked an eyebrow, running his lips together subtilely like he could still taste your kiss. “Did you now?”

“Yes.” He had told you not to. This was your first Christmas spent with him, the first chance you had to give him a gift. But, just like his birthday that had come and gone without your knowledge, he didn’t want a gift. Just your company. You had already gotten onto him plenty for letting his birthday squeak by. You wouldn’t let it happen again.

You stepped to the side and motioned to the bed, to the small parcel laying atop it. You had done your best with wrapping it, a small bit of twine done up around the paper with a bow.

“It’s two, actually. I’ve been working on one for a while.” When you turned back to him, the small flash of concern on his face didn’t go unnoticed. “Don’t worry,” you assured him. “I didn’t expect anything in return.”

His eyes snapped to you then. “Well, that’s too bad,” he said lowly, and before you could ask why, he was reaching inside his coat and pulling something out. A present, a little battered from his travel, the paper wrinkled and the tie around it crushed. You only loved it more for it. It was endearing in the same way he was.

“Arthur,” you chided with a smile. “You were just going to let me show up without a present when you had one for me?”

“‘Course.” He smiled with his teeth, that toothy grin that reminded you of the boy he had once been.

You gave him an incredulous look, and he laughed, the sound spiraling upward and into your bones like liquid gold.

“Fine then. You open mine first,” you said, unable to shake the high that was being with him.

He raised his hands in mock surrender before repocketing his gift and making for the parcel. You felt nerves flash through you, hoping against hope he would like it. One you knew he would, but the other was…a bit different.

“You didn’t have to spend your money,” he said, picking up the package and pulling the string so the bow slipped apart.

“I wanted to,” you told him. “It didn’t cost much anyway. More time than anything.”

He eyed you, the remnants of that grin still on his face, then the paper crinkled as he undid it. It finally gave way to fabric—his favorite color. He smiled.

“Darlin’,” he said endearingly as he pulled out a new shirt. Nothing special, nothing fancy, just something for him to ride in, the softest blue you could find. You always teased him that everything he owned would be blue if he had his say in the matter. “I love it,” he said with a smile bright enough to make you return it. “Thank you.”

He made to hug you but you stopped him. “Unfold it.”

He hesitantly did so, dropping the wrapping to the floor. He held the shirt up, and the moment he did, a loud thunk sounded—his second gift hitting the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” he said, reaching for it.

You could only laugh. “It’s not breakable.”

He picked it up, and the low light in the room was enough for him to see the wood. To see what you had carved into it.

He flipped it over, examined it from every angle. “You did this?” He met your eyes with such an open admiration in his that you felt your face heat.

You nodded. “It’s for your shotgun. The stock. I made sure it was the right kind to fit your gun if you wanted to…swap them out.” You suddenly felt that was a little presumptuous of you.

He stared at it so long your nerves got the better of you.

“You don’t have to, of course-”

“No,” he said, meeting your eye with sincerity in his own. “I love it. I mean it. Thank you. I’ll get it put on there first thing tomorrow.”

You were beaming. “Really? It’s not too…I don’t know. Effeminate?”

He gave you a chiding look so you kept on. “You’re just…you, and I want you to like it, but you don’t have to use it if you-”

He stopped you with a kiss, sudden and sure enough to melt away your doubt. Then there was nothing but him. No worry about some gift that he ended up liking after all.

Arthur pulled away from you slowly, reluctantly. “Open yours.”

He pulled the parcel out of his coat and handed it to you as he sat on the bed, urging you to sit beside him. You joined him, admiring him as you took it. There was no nervousness about him like there had been in you. His mind didn’t even seem to be on the gift. He was thinking of you and little else. So you smiled when you opened it, knowing you would love it before you even knew what it was.

Sure enough, he knew you well. “A journal?”

He nodded as your smile stretched wider. You thumbed through the empty pages, yours to fill. The two of you had that in common—a need to record in drawing as well as words. He was heavier on the words, journal entries lining the pages of what little he had let you see of his leather-bound book. But you preferred drawing. Mimicking art. It was why you had carved the woodland scene into a gunstock for the better part of a month, knowing upon seeing its inspiration how special it was and that it needed to be remembered. So maybe now, that proud deer on the foreground of a valley would forever be cradled in his appreciative hand just as this journal would be cradled in yours.

“Thank you, Arthur.” You met his eye to show that you meant it then melted all over again at the way he was looking at you. You debated speaking the feeling that bloomed within you but didn’t, not when he picked up the stock again and brushed a thumb over your handiwork.

“This is fine work.”

The words made a blush tinge your face. You couldn’t help it. He always bragged on you in a way that would make any woman blush, much less the woman who somehow found herself on the doting end of this rugged, outlawed man. He was a blunt instrument, violent and determined, yet all he trained on you was softness. Kindness you didn’t know how you had come to deserve.

“I told you you was better than me.” This meaning your artwork.

You snorted a laugh. “Yeah, right. And I told you, maybe I’d be a better judge of that if you let me get my hands on that journal of yours.”

He chuckled, the sound soft and warm as the room surrounding you. But to your surprise, for the first time since you’d found out he carried a journal, he didn’t protest.

“Actually,” he said, reaching around to his satchel. “I got you two gifts too.” And, to your shock, he was turning back to you with said journal in hand, holding it out like a bough of hard-earned trust.

“What?” It came out as a whisper, all you could manage in your surprise.

“Take it,” he said, holding it out farther. “I used up all the pages anyway. It’s nigh time I offload it, and I’d feel better about it being in your hands than lord knows who else’s.”

“You mean…” You looked from it to him. “You’re letting me have it? Read it all?”

He nodded his head to the side, a self-conscious gesture. What it must take for him to trust you this much. What he must feel for you.

You took it from him and ran your hands over the worn leather face. All Arthur. Your heart leapt in fondness for him.

You set the journal down atop the new one he had gifted you and turned to face him fully. You felt so deeply for this man. You had for a while. And you wanted him to know it. The journal was just proof he felt the same.

Before you could utter a word, Arthur swept in close and kissed you on the cheek, then stood. He offered you his hand. You took it, and he pulled you up and against him in one fluid motion, his fingers tangling with yours, his other hand finding your back. Then he was moving back and forth. Dancing. Arthur Morgan, outlaw of the state, dancing.

You laughed aloud. “What’s this?”

He ignored whatever gruffness he would normally have over something so carefree and led you in a soundless dance around the room, the only music the warmth, the lights, the way you felt for each other.

“You know how to dance, don’t you?” he said.

“Vaguely,” you replied. “Do you?”

That really got him going. He gave you a roguish grin and spun you, making you twirl with his fingers alone before pulling you back in. And when he did, he crushed you to him. Then his lips were on yours, and there wasn’t anymore air in the room apart from the love he granted you, how it filled your lungs.

Now. Now, in this perfect moment. It was time. You pulled away.

“Arthur?”

His eyes were closed, his hands cradling your face as he rested his forehead against yours as best he could with his hat. And still he swayed, a subtle back and forth even though it couldn’t quite be considered dancing anymore.

“Hm?”

You didn’t care that his eyes were shut. Didn’t care that he didn’t know what you were about to say or how long you had mulled over saying it. Because you felt it. And it was never more real than it was when you were with him.

“I love you.”

He stopped swaying.

You watched his blue eyes open slowly, like he didn’t quite believe what he had heard. Then his gaze met yours, soft and searching under those eyelashes, complicated as he was.

He didn’t answer. Just held you, watched you. In disbelief, you realized. Or maybe wanting to hold onto this moment like you were, committing it to memory. Too bad he no longer had a journal to draw it in. The thought made you smile. Then words were spilling from you like a flood.

“I’ve loved you since the day I saw what kind of man you really were. I’ve loved you since I saw that page in your journal with the deer drawn on it. I’ve loved you for so long it’s like I was just waiting on you to get here. Like you were made for me.”

His eyebrows drew together in emotion. Still, he did not speak.

“I love you so much it hurts when you’re away,” you muttered, finding his coat in your hands and clutching it, pulling him closer. When you met his eyes again, he was so close you could see every fleck of color in the firelight, the blue and gold that crashed together into green. You kissed him, and this time he was reluctant. Unsure. So you moved back just enough to give him room to breathe, time to think enough to speak.

His eyes never left you as he said, “I don’t know what I did to deserve that.”

It was quiet and vulnerable. So true of him, that he didn’t think he deserved to be loved.

“You’re you,” you said. “And that’s enough for me. Enough and then some.”

He was pulling you to him in less than a heartbeat. Crashing his lips to yours with all the passion of a man born again.

He broke from it for a breath, whispering, “I love you too,” before kissing the words into your mouth.

Nothing would ever be better than this. Nothing. It didn’t matter that the feeling was temporary. That Christmas would be over, and he would be gone, and you would ache at the loss of him again. There was no losing this. This memory would hold on forever as the happiest you’d ever had.

Arthur pulled back, and you were both breathing heavy. Far beyond any arousal or want. This was deeper.

He held your face like he held his life in his hands as he said, “I love you too, sweetheart.” Just because he could. The privilege of getting to say it addictive.

You looked at him and couldn’t keep the smile on your face at bay. He met your gaze and kissed you softly, a press of his lips against yours. A guarantee.

Wordlessly, he led you back to the bed. Your heart started to pound with thoughts less innocent until he picked up his journal, flipped toward the back, and held it out to you again.

“I may not have admitted it until now but…well. See for yourself.”

You took the book and turned it toward you, sitting back on the bed. The page you were met with had a drawing of you on it. Patiently drawn, thought out enough that it truly resembled you. You had wondered that—if he had ever drawn you. And now you had your answer. There were no words inscribed beside it like usual, like he just wanted the memory of you down on the page. Absentminded fondness. It burned you up inside.

“Keep turning.”

You looked to him. He wouldn’t meet your eye, embarrassment keeping his gaze glued to his journal, but it was endearing on him all the same.

You did as he asked and saw drawing after drawing after drawing, a few entries here and there. A few animals, a few towns, and nearly every other page, you.

It amazed you. You had thought you’d fallen first, and hard, but seeing this proved otherwise. Based on the entries, these drawings were done mere weeks after you met him.

“I could never seem to get your likeness just right,” he admitted quietly.

“Arthur, these are…” You wanted to reassure him. That this warmed your heart to him more than anything. You looked at him. “Thank you. I never thought…” You had stopped on a page that drew your gaze like none other. Because it captured a look in your eye you had only ever given to him. It was your admiration for him sketched out on the page, all subtle shades of black and gray. And the entry beside it nearly made you tear up.

I get to see her again.

He had drawn a heart beside it. You sobbed a laugh, a sound so happy it was all you could speak.

“I’ve been pretty damn fond of you from the beginning,” he admitted.

You set the journal aside and rose to meet him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you.” You said it on a smile. Because that’s all there was for it.

“Well if it ain’t obvious now…” he started. And he didn’t have to finish. Because you knew he loved you back.

You kissed him slowly then hugged him tight. He was yours.

You had a sudden idea and broke away from him, sitting back on the bed, reaching for the unused journal. “Here.”

“You don’t want it?”

Even the thought crushed you. “No, I want it. But I want you to christen the first page.”

“It’s yours,” he said. Like that would change your mind.

“I know it is. And every time I open it, I want to be reminded of the night I got it.”

He just stared, so you spoke. “Draw me.” Not from memory. Not without your knowledge this time.

“What, now?”

It was true, the pair of you didn’t have long together. But this was more intimate than anything somehow.

“Yes.” You smiled at him. And the look you gave him must have made up his mind, because he took the journal from your hand, the motion subtle and soft in the firelight. He went to the corner and pulled the lone chair over, setting it before you and sitting in it. He reached in his satchel and pulled out a drawing pencil. Then he sat back and looked at you. Really looked at you. He smiled. And he opened the journal, set pencil to paper, and began.

Every time he studied you, you admired him. The way his eyes focused, the way his pencil shaded gently. Such a light hand, easy in the same manner he was to you. A vast difference from when he was holding a gun, just as he treated everyone else so differently. This was the real Arthur. Only yours to see.

Minutes passed, and you shifted as you watched him, the big, tough man hyper-focused on the small journal in his hand.

“Hold still.”

When he met your eye, his were glinting with playfulness. You knew he was only kidding. You had seen him capture birds in flight, fish mid-leap out of the water, animals of all sorts on the run. He didn’t need you to be still. And just being here with him, letting him draw and joke and tease, filled you with such happiness as to make you want to plant this in your memory forever—a warm room and a man who loved you.

When he finished the drawing, he closed the journal and stowed his pencil, standing.

“Let me see.”

He shook his head with a lazy smile as he bound the journal back up. “Later.”

“Why later?”

Then he was stepping closer, the air in the room going thin as his eyes fixed on you.

“Open it when I ain’t here,” he said, eyes full with want. He tossed the journal on the bed and boxed you in with arms on either side of you, leaning in and kissing you slow and lazy. You soared. In this room full of merry light and special occasion, you soared. You hadn’t known what to expect when you first met this man, certainly not the gentle, easy love you had fallen into with him, but as he laid you back and began kissing you like you were the very air he breathed, you were more thankful than you ever had been. He was yours, and you were his, and nothing else in this inconsequential little life mattered. Maybe one day, it would even be enough to make him stay. Or better yet, for you to gain the courage to go with him. Whatever he asked of you, you would do it. For him, you would.

“I love you,” you whispered into his mouth again, eager to be able to say it. And then he was losing all semblance of patience and control, borne on the back of the desire that was having you all to himself for the night, those full words repeating and repeating.

“I love you,” he said, low and true. You smiled.

The following morning, Christmas morning, the two of you hesitantly stepped down the stairs of the hotel together, neither wanting to leave the other.

Sure enough, Arthur’s horse stood just beside yours, hitched to the post outside the hotel. He, like you, had been too full of anticipation over seeing you and had refrained from taking the time to stable his horse. No matter. The two animals had always seemed to get on well. Like they knew their owners had something special and got along like old friends, like siblings, because of it.

Arthur stepped up to his horse, giving it a treat and a loving pat. Not saying a word, not wanting the moment to end.

“Want to go get that stock put on your gun?” you suggested, knowing whatever else there was could wait.

He eyed you. Then turned, stepped closer, took your hand.

“Come with me.” He looked down at your hand as he spoke. Like the mere act of holding it was precious.

“Of course,” you said, a smile already forming.

The pair of you led your horses together down the main thoroughfare, the slight worry of someone recognizing Arthur lingering in the back of your mind. It had been a long time since that gang of his stirred up so much trouble here, but not long enough.

You got to the gunsmith without a fuss and offered to hitch Arthur’s horse while he went inside. He just rolled his eyes at you before taking your mount, leading them over himself. Ever the gentleman.

When he returned to your side with his shotgun strapped over his shoulder, he led you up the steps with a hand at your back. He used to be so nervous about touching you. It only made you fonder for him over time, and especially now that he had gotten over it.

He held the door open for you, and you stepped inside, looking over the racks of guns, the counter display, the gunsmith. He eyed Arthur a little when he came in behind you but didn’t say a word about it if he recognized him. He only gave a Christmas greeting and an offer to help.

“Need to change the stock out on my shotgun,” Arthur said, laying the weapon down on the countertop.

“Sure. We have a fine selection of-”

“No need,” Arthur said, holding a hand up and using the other to pull the gift you had carved him out of his coat.

“This is a fine piece,” the smith said upon seeing it laid down.

“She carved it,” Arthur said with pride as he turned to look at you, eyes alight.

“You?” the man said, drawing your attention away from Arthur’s loving gaze. “Well, if you’re looking for work, I could use someone with this kind of talent.”

“Thank you but no,” you said respectfully. “I don’t live around these parts.” Just a passerby, choosing this spot to spend one perfect evening because you knew how the hotel room would be decorated, how homey and worn the town was. Just like Arthur.

The smith nodded his head and got to work, taking Arthur’s gun. When he was halfway finished and Arthur said, “That piece goes on first,” realization hit you like a slap. Arthur never said he needed to go to the gunsmith to get the new stock affixed to the gun, just that he would get it put on. He would. He knew how, likely knew more about guns than most gunsmiths. Including how to take one apart and put it back together. So why had he agreed to come here, pay what little penance the labor would cost?

When Arthur’s gaze shifted from his gun to you, the answer dawned on you. He wanted to spend what little time he could with you. Your whole being melted at the very idea. He was such a sap.

You held his eyes then let the moment pass when the smith announced he was finished. Arthur checked over his gun and smiled when he brushed his hand over the carved wood. “Perfect,” he said. You felt your face heat again, just glad that he liked it. Even more glad he was willing to carry it around like a badge of honor.

He turned to the smith. “What do I owe you?”

“You let me keep this stock and we call it even,” he said, holding up the old one. It was worth more than that, but Arthur let it slide, seemingly favoring his new one too much to care.

“You got a deal,” Arthur said, tipping his hat. “I appreciate it. And uh, merry Christmas.” He shouldered his gun and placed his hand at your back once more, leading you out.

“To you as well,” the gunsmith replied. Then you were out the door and away from any remaining worry that Arthur would be recognized.

The two of you ambled back over to the horses, wordless. Not wanting this to end so soon. Arthur stowed his gun. You stood and watched him. Then he turned and sighed as his breath plumed in the cold air, like he had to remember how to breathe when leaving was inevitable. Maybe one day it wouldn’t be.

He pulled you in for a hug, resting his head atop yours. You nuzzled into his warmth.

“When will I see you again?” The words had more sorrow in them than you intended. He must have noticed, as he moved back enough to place a finger under your chin and lift your head to look at him. The smile under his eyes was sad too, but filled with hope.

“Soon. Real soon if I played my cards right.”

“What does that mean?”

He just shook his head and smiled, that boyish grin. “Just write me when you feel like putting up with me again.”

That was odd. Normally he gave you a time frame. “That’s always, Arthur,” you said. “You may as well stay if that’s the case.”

He laughed. You’d been over this before. He only refrained from asking you to join him in fear of his past catching up with him. You used to want to keep a healthy distance from that past, but now you weren’t so sure. Things were different when love was involved.

“Well, if you’ll have me, I’ll be back then. How’s that?”

That still raised more questions than it answered, but you didn’t ask them. His smile was distracting you. He was normally more solemn than this when he left.

“Why are you acting so funny?”

He leaned in and kissed you, a quick peck on the lips. Then he held your eye, the look on his face smug. For the life of you, you couldn’t decipher why.

Finally, he gave some. “Just take a look in that new journal of yours for me. When I’m gone.”

Your eyebrow raised high. Or even higher. “Why not now?”

“Just…” He let out another long breath. “Trust me. Can you do that?”

The dashing, bashful smile he leveled on you would have had you agreeing to murder.

“Yeah. Of course. You know I do.”

“All right then.” He pulled you in for another hug. This one tighter. This one more like a goodbye. It was a strange place to end things, almost unlike an ending at all. It had you wanting to rip open that journal right now and figure what on earth he was on about.

He pulled away and, with a calmness in his eyes, said, “I love you.” He held it like a breath. “And merry Christmas. I’ll see you…real soon. I hope.”

As suspicious as you were, you let him be. If he wasn’t telling you what was up now, he had to have a reason. So you held onto the hope that the promise of soon was a surety, that you would see the love he had for you made just as palpable as it was right now, stretching across his face in the morning light.

You loosed a breath and gave in to that love. “I love you too. More.” He grinned, color reaching his face. “Merry Christmas, Arthur.”

“Indeed,” he said. Then he was kissing you again and letting you go. Heading for his horse all too soon.

He mounted and turned to look at you. “Remember, don’t open that journal ‘til I’m gone. Long gone.”

“Why? What’d you put in there, a stick of dynamite?”

He let out a happy laugh. “Oh, it’ll blow something up, that’s for sure.” That left you stumped. “Just relax. You can read it as soon as I’m down the way, how’s that?”

You shook your head at him but couldn’t help the smile that turned your lips. “You’re something else.”

“You love me,” he taunted. And he was right.

“Go then,” you said, shooing him. “Go on. I have journals to read.”

“Good day to you too, miss.”

You laughed, and he kicked up his horse, rounding you. He got close enough to duck down and lift his hat, planting one last, brazen kiss on your lips. It had you blushing like a kid.

He straightened and donned his hat, his face the same red as yours likely was, though neither could be contributed to the cold.

“Bye. See you soon.”

“Goodbye, Arthur. It’d better be soon, or you owe me an explanation.”

“It will be. I hope.” There he went again. You just waved him off, and he passed you smiling wide, his horse stepping out into the muddy, snow-logged street. You watched him go with awe. That handsome, proud man. How you had ever won him over, you couldn’t be sure. But you had. And you were pulling out your new journal to find out why before he had even gotten halfway down the street.

You unwrapped its binding in haste, feeling the new pages crack and reluctantly give in your hands. You flipped and flipped and reached the first page and were…struck dumb. Utterly.

On the left was a drawing of you. Subtle and suggestive with its shading, perfect, the way all of Arthur’s drawings were. But on the right, in big, bolded letters: The future Mrs. Morgan. And underneath, May she forgive me for not having procured a ring yet. I’ll make it up to her in kind as soon as she’ll let me.

You could have cried. You couldn’t believe it. The decision to stay apart all this time had been both his and yours, and knowing now that he had changed his mind…

You looked up and found him to be nowhere in sight. You wished he still were. If he were, you would drag him back here and tell him a ring didn’t matter. Of course you would marry him. It didn’t require any thought. The decision was already made the minute he whispered that he loved you back.

The future Mrs. Morgan. Having that down in his writing, on the very first page no less…you could die happy.

You took one last look and shut the journal, stuffing it back inside your coat. And, riddled with giddiness, you faced the street and the daylight, soaking it into your bones. For all the chill the wind held, it couldn’t cut you. For all the months spent away from Arthur, you couldn’t feel sorry that you had needed to be so patient. Because this was real, and true, and unlike anything in the world.

On Christmas Day and for the first time in years, you faced your future with surety. And what a beautiful, merry sight it was.

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