#'the youth' they said not having even turned 20

[stackedbirds]

ok so!!!

my sibling, having finished mdzs, started reading tgcf and

they found this epic quote

"He really wanted to hang a sign on his back saying, ‘Ascension is not as good as collecting scraps’ and promote it in the mortal world."

about xl

and in my opinion

he deserves it.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Decoy [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 6.9k

summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.

warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension

Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case

You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.

You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.

All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.

But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.

"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.

“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”

"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"

“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.

“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.

Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.

“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”

"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”

“We can use our own team”

"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"

"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"

"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”

“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.

"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.

Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids. 

You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.

“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it. 

"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.

"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.

He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.

At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.

The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.

Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.

“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"

"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying” 

"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.

You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.

We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.

As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.

Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.

Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.

When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.

"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"

"And meanwhile what do we do?"

"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"

“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.

“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"

“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"

“When the suspect approaches, yes”

"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.

My God, could that man make you more nervous?

When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.

"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"

"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"

“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”

"This is not a play"

"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”

"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.

“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”

“I actually know some good ones”

"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."

"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"

"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?

Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.

“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.

You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.

“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.

“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."

"Why you said so?"

“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.

"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."

“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.

"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"

"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."

You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.

“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."

"I am nervous"

"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"

"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"

"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"

"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"

"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"

"Smooch me?"

"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.

"That's not a picnic, Y/N"

You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.

You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.

"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.

"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.

"Is that our unsub?"

"It is"

You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.

"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.

“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"

"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.

You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?

"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.

You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.

“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.

You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements. 

It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.

There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.

The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.

“He started the trailer. He's going to go"

Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.

Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.

"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.

"Take... what?"

"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"

But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you. 

He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit. 

His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.

You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.

Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.

As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.

"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.

That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin. 

And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.

Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.

From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.

"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.

"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.

You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.

"How are you?"

"Very good, excellent" you stammered.

You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.

After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.

"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.

“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Don't you even dare make fun of this"

“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."

"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.

Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.

"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?" 

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too"

You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.

"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"

"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?

Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.

"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"

“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”

"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."

“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.

While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.

"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.

“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”

“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."

"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"

“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"

"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"

Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.

“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”

“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."

You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.

"Then I'd love to, Reid."

“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"

“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.

It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.

“Today?”

"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.

“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”

It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.

Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.

"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"

"It did"

"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.

Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.

"Do you want to go after work, then?"

“Sounds good to me”

Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.

So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.

[harunayuuka2060]

F!MC: Riddle? Is there something wrong?

Trey: Yeah. You won the contest, but why are you not happy?

Cater: Well, it's not just Ridz who seems unhappy here.

Riddle: I am fine.

F!MC: ...

F!MC: Riddle?

Riddle: !!!

Riddle: ...

Riddle: Ridz and I had an encounter with some Royal Sword Academy students.

Riddle: And one of them... TRIED TO REQUEST YOUR PHONE NUMBER! *his face turns red in anger*

F!MC: Eh?

Toddler Riddle: It's true, Mama. *frowns*

F!MC: W-Well, it's not like you have given it to him, right?

Riddle: HE SAID HE FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU AT FIRST SIGHT! HOW DARE HE?!

Trey and Cater: *had to hold back their laughter*

F!MC: ...

F!MC: *extends a hand to gently pat his head* *smiles apologetically*

F!MC: It must've been an ordeal. I'm really sorry about that, Riddle.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: *immediately calms down* No... It was nothing, miss.

Toddler Riddle: Mama, don't give your number to anyone, okay?

F!MC: *chuckles* Of course!

Azul: Lady MC will end up single for a long time if you are this overprotective, Riddle.

Idia: Lol. So? Let her enjoy her youth. Marriage can wait.

Riddle: Just like what Idia-senpai said, Miss MC deserves to enjoy her youth and potential suitors should refrain from approaching her.

Leona: Sure. But let's not forget that it's her choice whether she wants to remarry or not.

Vil: Please, Leona. We all know that if MC does find someone, you will oppose it.

Leona: Of course. I'm her older brother here.

Kalim: Speaking of prospective suitor, I think my dad wants me to court her when given the chance.

Riddle: You don't know how to take care of yourself. No.

Kalim: I-

Idia: *laughs*

Azul: My, my. Did you really have to criticize him like that, Riddle?

Sebek: Human! I have brought the books you requested from Waka-sama!

F!MC: Th-Thank you so much.

Silver: Sebek, lower your voice, please. You startled her.

F!MC: N-No. It's fine.

Sebek: What are you going to do with all these medical books, human?

F!MC: I'd like to do some self-study.

Silver: Oh, right. Didn't you ask for history and geography books as well?

F!MC: Yes.

Sebek: Why are you studying diligently, human?

F!MC: For my son Riddle. As his mom, I need to be 20 steps—no, 50 steps—ahead of him.

Silver: I think I understand you. You want to answer every question he will ask if he ever needs them.

F!MC: *smiles* Yes.

Sebek: Hm. That is commendable, human. However, wouldn't it be better to go to school?

F!MC: ...

F!MC: I did try asking some schools here that offer co-ed. Unfortunately, they expressed concern about my status. *smiles awkwardly*

Sebek: O-Oh.

F!MC: Anyway, they promised to give me a call if there happens to be a special program I could enroll in.

Sebek: Hmph! You needn't to wait! Should distance not be an issue, I can suggest a school for you situated in Briar Valley!

F!MC and Silver: ...

Silver: Sebek?

F!MC: You would do that?

Sebek: Yes! And bringing your son won't even be an issue!

Silver: ...

Silver: *smiles; looks proud of him*

Sebek: What are you smiling at, Silver?!

F!MC: *chuckles*

[mapiforpresident]

Can I request prompt no 20 with arsenal women team(platonic ), reader and Kyra mischievous as usual but suddenly gets hurt and lia and steph having to take them to doctor

"Ow Kyra"

arsenal x reader

warnings: injury, blood, stitches

You and Kyra Cooney-Cross, two peas in a pod, were notorious troublemakers within the Arsenal Women's Football Team. You were both Australian and joined Arsenal at the same time. You were a year younger than Kyra, which you used to your advantage when Steph said she should be the more responsible one. From harmless pranks to playful banter, you two were always at the center of mischief, much to the amusement (and occasional exasperation) of your older teammates.

The dynamic between you and Kyra was one of camaraderie and playful rivalry. Both of you shared a love for the game and a mischievous spirit that often led to antics both on and off the pitch. Whether it was sneaking extra snacks from the team's stash or pulling pranks during training sessions, you were always in cahoots, causing chaos wherever you went. Some of your favorite pass times included poking Steph and nutmegging Viv.

Your antics were endearingly annoying to the older players, who often found themselves on the receiving end of your playful teasing. But despite the occasional scolding, they couldn't help but smile at the youthful exuberance and infectious energy you brought to the team.

Today, during a routine round of mischief, disaster struck. As you and Kyra engaged in a spirited game of keep-away with Caitlin's water bottle, you stumbled over your own feet and collided with a nearby equipment rack. The impact sent you sprawling to the ground, a sharp pain shooting through your head as you made contact with the unforgiving surface.

"Oi, watch it, you two!" Beth Mead, called out from where she almost ran into you while doing a drill with Leah.

But as you attempted to push yourself up from the ground, you felt a warm trickle of blood run down the side of your face, and suddenly, the world around you blurred into a haze of pain and confusion.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Kyra's voice cut through the fog, her concern evident, although she was also holding back a laugh, as she knelt beside you. After you didn't respond right away she called out, "I think y/n broke her skull."

"What," came Lia's voice as she was immediately by your side turning you over to asses the wound. "She's not broken her skull you idiot, just might need a couple stitches. How did she even manage to hit her head on that."

"I swear we weren't doing anything dangerous this time, she's just clumsy and tripped. Must have spent too much time with Less again," Kyra replied while you were grumbling and moaning in pain on the ground.

"Kyra, give me your shirt," Steph said as she appeared on your other side. Kyra knew not to argue with Steph when she gave her that glare and handed over her training top which Steph immediately applied to the wound.

"The trainers are all inside helping the girls in the gym, so I think it's best if we just take her right to the ER," Lia said as she was talking to Steph.

As Lia and Steph helped you sit up, you couldn't shake off the throbbing pain in your head. With Kyra hovering anxiously beside you, you tried to muster a smile to reassure her, but the pain made it difficult to focus on anything else.

"Sorry, guys," you muttered, feeling a pang of guilt for causing such a fuss.

"Don't worry about it, y/n," Lia said, her voice calm and reassuring. She was like your team mom and you were really grateful for her in this moment. "Accidents happen."

Steph nodded in agreement, her expression serious as she gently guided you to your feet. "Let's get you to the hospital and get that looked at, yeah?"

With Lia and Steph's support, you managed to stand, albeit unsteadily. The world still felt like it was spinning, and the pain in your head seemed to intensify with each passing moment. But you were determined not to let it show, not wanting to worry your teammates any further.

You got into the back of Lia's car with Steph sitting in the back with you continuing to hold the shirt against the wound, hoping you don't loose top much blood and pass out. Lia drove as fast as she could in the London traffic to get you to the hospital. Kyra brought a wheelchair to help you in since you were still really dizzy.

Once in a room they immediately gave you pain meds, making you a little loopy. "Will you sit me with me Lia," you whispered to the girl next to you as you were starting to get sleepy.

"Of course, and try to stay awake the doctor will be here in a minute to give you your stitches."

As the doctor arrived to administer the stitches, you tried your best to stay awake, the pain meds making you feel drowsy and disoriented. Kyra's laughter echoed in the background as she recorded the whole scene, her playful teasing providing a brief moment of levity amidst the chaos.

"I'm going to have a badass scar. The chicks are going to dig it," you mumbled sleepily, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Lia chuckled softly, her hand resting reassuringly on your arm. "You're going to be just fine, y/n. And besides, scars are just proof that you're a tough little warrior."

As the doctor finished the stitches and the pain meds began to take effect, you felt yourself drifting off into a peaceful slumber, safe in the knowledge that you were surrounded by friends who cared for you deeply.

[lavenderlyncis]

Join me in reviewing Olivia Rodrigo's album GUTS. I've waited years for this!!

all-american bitch - 9/10, big fan. I love it when she screams because the world is unfair. same girl, same

bad idea right? - 10/10. I know this one is controversial but I LOVE her more punky songs, I think that's when she's best

vampire - 10/10. I'm not always a fan of piano ballads, but the bridge and outro really make it for me. The hurt turning into anger and despair is just so cathartic. And the video is one of my faves of all time

lacy - 1000/10. What the hell. Did not expect to feel this much emotion from that title. Uhhh... yeah, same. I super relate to that. Whether or not lacy is supposed to be a real person or a manifestation of the beauty standard, this hits. Also, idk if I'm making this up but I dig the romantic undertones, they sell it

ballad of a homeschooled girl - "I made it weird, I made it worse"/10. OLIVIA HOW DID YOU KNOW that I lie awake thinking about all the weird things I did and said, Olivia, did you write this for me specifically??? Every day I am alive IS social suicide. I'm sorry, this is my song, actually. "Can't think of a third line", she's so real

making the bed - "I'm playing the victim so well in my head"/10. How. Does. She. Do. It? I could write an entire essay about this song. Maybe THIS is my song?? She's so good at saying exactly how I feel. I already know that this song will play a million times on my phone. Also I love the drivers license references. Big fan of the making the bed metaphor

logical - 9/10. favourite crime vibes. She's good with these songs about bad relationships. Used to be my favourite thing she did, but now I'm more invested in the songs that are about her/other experiences. That being said this song is really fucking good. This is the Olivia I fell in love with and she's still amazing at doing piano ballads

get him back! - 9/10. Olivia having ANOTHER song with speak-singing where she wants to get back with her ex?? Yes, PLEASE. Bad idea right 2.0. Fucking obsessed

love is embarrassing - 10/10. I said it before I'll say it again, angry Olivia is the best. And she's right, love IS embarrassing as hell

the grudges - 10/10. She does the paino ballads SO WELL. I think this is my favourite one on here. Because, wow, yeah, that is how it is

pretty isn't pretty - i can't rate this/10. GOD, I love it when she talks about insecurities. And don't think I don't see that skipping lunch line. It's sp hard to articulate how this song makes me feel. Especially since I've been low key comparing myself to her, even though we have entirely different bodies and faces. It's nice to know she also struggles with this. And she's right, you could do literally anything to change your appearance and you'd still be unhappy

teenage dream - 100000/10. "Is it recording? Of course it is.", the way I gasped. Okay, I love the interpretation of it ending with a child to be about growing up and childhood innocence. But the line she says?? Especially combined with the meaning of the song it feels a lot like it's about taking away youth by recording it and putting it out there just like she was supposed to be everyone's teenage dream as a child actor and young musician. This feels so personal to her while also being relatable to others. I'm 19 too, Olivia and I are born in the same year. And this is exactly how I feel about growing up. I hope it gets better, my teenage years were crap, I'm tired of being young, but it's also the only thing I can hold onto. I'm honestly terrified of turning 20. But hey, Olivia did it, so... it'll get better, right?

[tookthe-405]

VBS

Chapter 1:

“VBS” ~ Lucy Dacus

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DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸

rebel!ellie x fem!reader

a/n: this one’s more fluff and for every gay baby still in a church, thinking they don’t belong.

summary: you grew up religious without questions and in summer you would get send to vacation bible school. The camp always felt like prison to you, until a very interesting girl appeared.

c/w: smut in future chaps!!, religious trauma (obviously)

7/20/2007 (friday, week 1)

Readers pov:

2:34 p.m

You're sure you've never been asked. Never. It was always natural that you believe and pray. For everyone, for your family, your church friends, the pastors. The doubts also started very early. At 6, if you remember correctly.

You felt so guilty back then that you prayed and read the Bible all night long. The fear that demons could possess you, as soon as God left you, made you almost manic. But you thought that it was meant to be, that this was the price you needed to pay for being a child of God. But it began to feel more like a curse than a gift.

Of course you never told anyone this, you weren't crazy after all, but the thoughts followed you everywhere. You were waiting to be saved by someone, by God or just a person. No one ever appeard.

Until you turned 18. Until it was the summer of 2007.

Everything still looks pretty much the same, the youth hostel that had 3 floors and looks worn out, the church made of wood that stands here all year round, the lake only a few meters away from the big fire place where you gather every evening. The sun was almost shining in your face and it feels like a warning.

You're 18 now and this will be your last year here, although after that you'll probably work as a worshipper. But you and your friends wanted to spend one last summer here, like you have done for the last 4 years. There was a certain relief in you that it was the last year, but you would only confess that to God. He already knows it anyway.

It always amazes you how many people were here. It starts at the age of 14 and goes up to 18. Then there are a few „leaders“ who prepare programs and prayer sessions for you, and check every now and then whether everything is in order. That was your future, God was your future and the reward for it would be given to you at the end of your life.

Your mother talked so much during the 2 hour drive about how happy you are that your church welcomes you so lovingly even in the summer, and that's not a given because there are many other churches that don't give opportunities like that.

You noticed that all the church employees give up their summer to talk about God and that at some point you have to do the same thing as your mother, who donates every Sunday and volunteers in the kitchen for 6 hours.

That made you happy again, that you didn't have to do that until after the summer. Your mother kissed you on the forehead and said goodbye with God's blessing, you looked after the car for longer than necessary, and you tried to dig some poetic reason out of this feeling but there simply wasn’t one.

Now You're standing in front of the big building. All the teenagers are happily rushing from side to side and you feel guilty that you're the only one standing still and staring at the big cross above the door.

Hazel and the others aren't there yet, but you've been sent your room number per SMS and you feel ready to look for it on your own. Normally you follow Hazel around all summer, she always seems to know what was right and which way you should go. physically and mentally.

You would be here for 6 weeks, like every year, the rest of your family would spend their summer in Greece. You snort at the memory and continue to try to carry up your suitcase, which contains a 6 week supply of clothes and sweets. The boys' rooms are on the second floor and the girls' rooms on the third floor, it's always been that way and it still annoys you.

Room 26

The rolling of your suitcase leaves behind a noise that mixes with the many giggles,of the girls from the many rooms. You go through the many doors and check the numbers.

24, 25, 26

There will be 6 girls in each room and you know them all, but to your surprise the door is slightly open. But when you enter the room you don't find anyone. The familiar bunk beds greet your eyes and your mouth turned into a thin line, because you were both disappointed and unmotivated. There were enough cupboards on the wall for all of you, and they are still the same as last year.

A big, wide window at the end of the room showed the large meadow and the church, the lake was difficult to see but you know it’s there. There is a small table and a few chairs right in front of the window, you were lucky with the room this year, it could have been worse. You stand in front of the wooden table and enjoy the view.

The others should be there soon too. You decide to choose a bed, since Hazel loves to sleep on an upper bed, you put your suitcase and backpack on one of the beds below. Just as you were about to start unpacking, you heard the rushes of pillows.

"hey"

You let out a little scream.

There is a girl lying on the bed opposite, someone you don't know and have never seen before. Not even in church.

You're pretty sure you're both scanning each other at the same time. She is beautiful. Her face looks almost perfect. So far you can only see her head and her legs are hanging out a little over the edge of the bed, which you should have noticed when you came in. There was something different about her, different from the other girls you know. She seems to notice how scared you are and lets out a small and breathy laugh.

Her voice gives you goosebumps and you hope that she'll say something else very quickly. She jumps from the upper level of the bed down onto the floor, she doesn't seem to care about the ladder, and the wood makes a cracking noise. She lands deftly on the floor. Now you examine her properly again.

The sleeves of her flannel are rolled up to her elbows, revealing a tattoo that extends across her entire forearm. You couldn't catch the color of her eyes before, but now you can see it clearly. Green. She has short auburn hair in a half pulled back bun. She is wearing gray baggy joggers and black converse.

"ellie"

She extends her hand to you and you wonder how long it has been since someone had made that gesture towards you. You say your name and carefully take her hand. You notice freckles on her pale skin as your hands touch. Your heart feels like it's tied up in strings that you have to untie as quickly as possible.

When your hands separate again, they feel cold.

"I've never seen you here before," you remark and turn back to your suitcase with red cheeks.

"Yes, um... I'm new? I think you could say that."

With a few t-shirts in your hand, you look at her one more time. She looks out the window a little unsure.

"okay...?"

not a lot of information but you can handle it, you probably won't talk much anyway. You hope for her that she knows someone here and doesn't have to be alone.

Even if she's a little odd, that doesn't mean she has to have a hard time here. After putting your shirts away, you went to grab the rest of your clothes when you realized what was so different about her. Ellie is now laying back on the bed and appears to be drawing or writing something.

“Are you even Christian?” you ask her. The question seems so absurd here. Sometimes it seems as if the holiness of the church next door, extends to the youth hostel. You really shouldn't have to ask a question like that here.

her green eyes turn to you.

"Not really"

She doesn't wait for your reaction and you are very happy about that, because your face definitely shows your puzzled head. It doesn't make sense, and you’re having a really hard time finding one. Why should a non-believer do this to herself?

"Why-"

The door bursts open and Hazel and her other friends come into the room laughing loudly.

"Hey, sorry we're late, everything's fine" Hazel appears in front of you and hugs you tightly, the smell of fresh roses touches your nose.

"It's all good, up there Ellie, she's new"

The eyes of the 4 girls meet those of the new one. Ellie seems a bit surprised that you introduced her so quickly, but it would have been awkward if it had taken 5 minutes to notice that there was another person in the room.

"oh, hey ellie I’m hazel"

the other girls introduce themselves to her as well. Mia, Kate and Naveah. You know them all from church and they’re nice.

"Which church do you go to, Ellie?" Mia asks and you can already guess the answer, but don't say anything.

"I don’t really go to church only on Christmas and thanksgiving, my aunt and uncle sometimes drag me to our city church Center in San Francisco. They're the only reason why I'm here."

Okay yes, she was very clear that she didn't want to be here, everyone in the room can read that.

"OK!" Hazel claps her hands together almost hysterically. "Then it's our job to bring you closer to God, I'm sure you were sent here for a good reason."

Even if you grew up with such talk, you can’t hide your embarrassed expression. You're pretty sure that someone who didn't grew up in a religious household would neither like to hear something like that nor really want to enforce it.

"Oh you don't have to, if God has something planned for me, he'll definitely figure it out himself." She whispers the last part, not too inconspicuously.

You briefly pray that she has a few friends here because after that, Hazel definitely doesn't want anything to do with her anymore.

Hazel sighs vexed and loudly places her backpack on the table, which again attracts Ellie's attention. She looks away from her journal and stands herself up with her elbows.

"I believe that God often tries to spread his word through people, as it so often says in the Bible. Mark 16:15 says: Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation"

“Jesus,” Ellie whispers quietly.

“You can really leave me out, I’ll hear all your sermons anyway,” she adds.

"You can be happy about that, many people turn away from God and don't even hear his words," explains Kate.

"They’re lucky," murmurs Ellie, you're thinking about hitting her in the face , the next time she wants to say something.

Hazel's face showed a lot and it all goes in the same direction: anger and also responsibility. She believes that everything happens in God's will and that it is her job to convert ever human on earth. Unfortunately she also knows no limits.

"Do you at least have a Bible Ellie?" she asks, louder than necessary.

The other girls sit tensely at the table and watch the desputed interaction between the two.

"Yes, my aunt packed one for me"

"That's something"

"Um hazel" Naveah's voice was quiet and she looks like a frightened mouse. "We're about to have a get-to-know-you evening."

Hazel slowly comes out of her madness and smiles softly, just like you're used to.

"Right-"

"Ellie can go with us, she definitely doesn't know where to go."

You hate to interrupt your best friend, but you are sure that she would have just left Ellie here. Hazel's face looks a bit dazed and that only confirms it, Kate and the others also look at you with question marks on their faces.

“yeah I’d like that”

Your looks exchange and you smile at her in understanding.

Ellie is one of the most original girls you've ever had the pleasure of meeting, and you promise yourself not to succumb too much to the urges inside.

"Yeah whatever" Hazel storms past you without another word and the others follow her like dogs on a leash.

You could say that Hazel has always been more reverent and connected to God than most and this has made her both popular and well-known, especially in the church. The adults and pastors always spoke of her in the best terms.

It's every parent's greatest wish, that's clear to everyone. And that's one of the reasons why so many people want to be like her. The love and recognition of parents is not always self-evident, at least not in your church.

You realize that Ellie was your job now and that's why you stand there and wait until she jumps off the bed again.

"I don't actually want to do this, you know that?" She says.

you snort.

"Yes, you made that clear, Ellie."

As much as you try to be consistent and strict with her, you can't help but smile. You quickly follow the others, you can hear the footsteps of the other girl behind you.

The short path to the church across the meadow passes very quiet. Your gaze scurries over to the many other people, who are hurrying like bees making their way the bee queen. That's how it feels too, like a call from a higher society.

The church looks bigger from the inside, than you would think. It has a stage where preaching takes place and many benches, arranged in rows in front of it. A large wooden cross has been hung on the back wall near the stage, the sight of it gives you a cold shiver down your spine, even though you have been here so many times.

Ellie's figure appears next to you. She doesn't look too happy to be here either, but you can obviously hide it better. Her hands are tucked into her jogging pants and she has something masculine about her that you have never seen before.

But you find it brave and impressive how she didn't care what others thought of her. Hazel and her group had sat down in the second row and you tapped Ellie shoulder to make it clear to her that, whether she likes it or not, she will be sitting next to you.

She groans slightly for a moment, but follows you.

The church is very ordinary, except it’s made of wood it but other than that it looks like any other. As you and Ellie push your way forward through the crowd, you also see a few familiar faces from the last few years. You sit down in silence next to Naveah, who pays you no attention, just as Hazel.

Ellie lets out a sigh as she sits down and stares at the large cross. She looks a bit… charming?, but overall you can only tell that she has no interest whatsoever in being here. Ellie leans slightly toward you.

"What's going to happen here? Do we have to swear on the Bible or something?"

Your eyes widen and you can't help but laugh.

"No, the pastor will introduce himself and we will discuss what topics we have this week and what our daily routine looks like."

“Okay” She screws up her face and you smile.

When you turn back around, Hazel's stare pierces your soul. You didn't even have to turn towards her, the energy of her anger was strong enough, that it could’ve reach you in another state

"Okay children, sit down" Pastor Tobias walks through the hall and the crowd becomes quieter.

The fact that he still calls you children was not only embarrassing for you in front of Ellie, but it generally puzzled you a lot. But as mentioned, there were also 15 year olds here, but it still annoys you.

As soon as he stands on the stage, it becomes completely quiet.

"Welcome, it's nice that you're all here to serve God and praise the Lord."

Your chest slowly tightens and you fidget a little with your fingers. Ellie nudges you with her elbow. Surprised by the gesture, you turn to her, and she looks at you with so much concern and confusion at the same time that it disturbs you a bit.

Her look asks you if you're okay, but it also shows that she understands if you're not.

"This week we're tackling the topic of conversion and the rewards for it. Then on Wednesday you'll go on a hike in the forest."

The children all groan because everyone knows how shitty such hikes are and how long they were.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but it's going to be brightened up with a little scavenger hunt. Later, the staff will give you your tasks here on the camp and , yes still today, there will be a Bible lesson. Every morning and afternoon."

You actually like Bible lessons, you were good at reciting facts that you read in a book, it wasn't as bad as having the words of a preacher tattooed into your brain.

Pastor Tobias drives ahead.

"You have free time in the morning until breakfast and then the bible lessons and workshops begin. There are many different selections where you can register straight away, and then you have free time again for a few hours. The youth hostel's sports hall is now open again And you can use it again this year. In the evening the sermon will takes place at 8 p.m. You then have the choice to watch a film in the large hall and there will be silence for bedtime at 11 p.m.."

“Shit, that doesn’t sound so bad.”

Ellie's honesty appeals to you like iced water on a hot summer day.

unfortunately it’s also a very loud call im such a quiet room and a few people laugh in the back rows.

The pastor's eyes land on the girl and he seems to have remembered something because he doesn't drive forward.

"ellie..." a quick glance at the list of many names.

"Williams?"

The call doesn't surprise Ellie, she just nods, unconvinced.

Pastor Tobias nods and you can read a kind of... anger that makes your hands sweat.

"Yes, I remember you, young girl"

Ellie grimaces briefly at the nickname, he gave her.

"I see there has been no progress?"

You frown, but again it seems to be expected for Ellie.

"None that you would like" she grins at him, if you couldn't hear her words it would pass for a warm, even playful, smile. The room seems even quieter now and now you feel really cold.

All of this makes you incredibly nervous in the worst possible way.

"yes I see, well I hope this will finally help you"

After the sermon and after everyone has unpacked their things, the Bible lesson begins. There, everyone is divided into groups and you can talk about God and the world either in your room, the common room or sometimes even outside.

Your group decides to go outside and the grass under your fingers feels nice and comforting cold somehow. Hazel and some of the others have changed and you are also wearing much more comfortable clothes now.

"I don't really trust her? Sounds weird but that's how I feel."

You nod to every syllable Hazel says about Ellie.

Hazel fidgets with her long, holey sweater and you look up at the sky, watching the clouds. The lesson should start in a few minutes but Ellie is nowhere to be seen.

"I don't think she's coming," Mia murmurs.

"Yeah, as if she'd care." Kate laughs.

Hazel shifts a bit.

"But she should, even Tobi said that. I knew there was something strange about her.”

It bothers you how they can speak so badly about a complete stranger.

“Pastor Tobi may be a pastor but he’s not God, we don’t know anything for sure, Hazel.” Your stern voice surprises the others.

Most of the time you prefer to listen and observe, rather than add to the something conversations yourself.

Most of the time.

“But we can trust him, at least I do. Don’t you?”

It was a bet, without a doubt, one that you wouldn’t take up.

“Okay girls,”

a young woman in her mid-20s appears in front you with a smile and a Bible in her hand.

“Where should we start? Any concerns?”

You look at her without any real thoughts, no memory of her.

“Must be new,” Hazel whispers, saying what you’re thinking.

“Oh yes, I’m Louisa, but you can call me whatever you want, Lou, Louise, I don’t care.”

A small smile, blinded by the sun, hits your face as you notice how authentic and nice she seems. Ellie would definitely like her too if she would be here… it’s strange how familiar she already is to you. how much you outvote her.

"I am both your carer and your contact person, because I know that many of you do not see the two as one and the same."

She smiles lovingly and sits cross-legged in front of you so that you form a small circle.

"If there is anything on your mind, you can talk to me."

Hazel speaks up, finger in the air, her body completely stiff.

"Oh, you don't have to-"

Hazel interrupts Louisa quickly.

"Ellie didn't show up,"

you almost hiss through your teeth.

"Yes, I noticed that too..." she looks at her note and seems to be thinking about what exactly she should about this situation.

"I'll talk to her later."

A smile that doesn't really show love and attention appears on Hazel's lips.

"You should do that."

You don't see or hear anything from Ellie for the rest of the evening. You keep catching yourself looking around, hoping that she might be behind you. Your ears waited to hear the girl's rough voice or bright laugh, but that just didn't happen.

At the campfire, the clouds of smoke and the big fire banish your view and you just don't dare to get up and look for her. It would be too conspicuous and Hazel is already angry enough.

Hazel tells you about the many fireflies she saw last week and that she got an instant camera before camp. You turn over your stick of bread in silence and lean back on the bench, then you feel a warm, familiar hand on your shoulder.

"Are you okay, darling?"

Louisa’s eyes examine your face worriedly. She looks almost as old as you in the dark, but the fire shows that she actually isn't.

"huh?"

"are you alright?"

When Hazel notices that you are no longer participating in her conversation she turns the other way to Kate, finally you hear silence in your head for the first time this afternoon.

"yes, I'm fine," you whisper.

She almost didn't seem to hear it, but nods slowly.

"are you looking for someone?"

she whispers back with a grin, either to accommodate your gesture or because she realizes that your other friends probably shouldn't notice.

"me? no."

You wave your hand in the air, distracted. Louisa didn't really seem to buy it.

She takes the bread from her stick and looks into the distance, behind the fire. You wonder what is going on in her head.

"she's behind the yard."

You turn to her, shocked, because she knows full well that Ellie is actually some kind of problem case that you should maybe probably stay away from.

The woman notices your gaze and looks at you amused.

"I know how it feels to want something you shouldn't want, a friendship especially. A lot of people don't mention it but group stress and pressure doesn't end at 18."

her words bring you both comfort and sadness.

"when will it end?"

you're not sure why you're talking to her about it, much less why you feel comfortable enough to do so. Louisa was silent for a few seconds before answering.

"depends. maybe never. only we can make a difference, even though we're not the cause of the problem."

You gently pull your bread off the fire and set it aside so that it rests on the stick, in the air.

"thank you Louisa" you stand up, smiling, and turn to Hazel with a little more determination.

"i'm going to the bathroom for a minute."

hazel's eyes drift up from her conversation with some brown haired guy.

"okay.

without listening to anything else, your feet lead you away from the fire, until it is just a memory and a red light in the distance.

You feel immediately relieved.

But the closer you get to the youth hostel, the more nervous you become. you don't understand why and that only frustrates you more until it feels a little like your whole system is about to fail.

In the back yard, Louisa told you.

Louisa said it was okay to talk to Ellie, to want to talk to her, no reason to feel bad about it. Nevertheless, you stop before the turn to the back yard and look at the pebbles that make that crunching sound, which reminds you that you really want this.

But why do you feel so bad about wanting this?

new friendships are a good thing? yes, Hazel doesn't like her and she is probably a problem case in the church, but that is nothing world-changing.

your back finds the wall of the building and you breathe in and out quickly.

you are worried that if you turn here now you will just walk past her. Out of fear of her, of you, and of the rejection. Your breathing becomes heavier in your lungs. Panic, which you know all too well, spreads inside you and your hand goes to your chest.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?“

"yeah what is wrong with you dude"

you flinch and worry whether you have broken something, even though that is impossible in any universe.

"fuck"

you support yourself on your knees, immersed in shock, and eye the converse of Ellie, who is standing next to you.

"you good?"

"yes, jesus"

That came out a little harsher than you intended and the girl's eyes narrow for a second.

"sorry- you just scared me"

you lean against the wall again. you are sure that Ellie will go away now, but you hear her shoes stop right next to you.

"sorry, it wasn't intentional, what are you doing here?"

you don't know that either.

"I don't know"

you put your hands in your cardigan and look the auburn-haired girl in the eyes.

She is now leaning against the wall next to you.

"That's cool" the silence and the eye contact almost kills you, until you notice that Ellie is experimenting with something in her hands.

"Ellie, you can't smoke here! you shouldn't smoke at all"

Ellie giggles loudly and licks the paper to finish rolling the cigarette. Your gaze falls on her tongue and its movements but you quickly turn back to the front, feeling dizzy now.

Okay? That was... weird?

you thought.

"Nobody dies because of a little smoking"

"You would be surprised" you say and watch as she lights the cigarette.

It looks relaxing. Not as scary and evil as you always imagined, it almost looks magical.

"You never smoked before?"

Disbelief in her voice.

You giggle and relax your shoulders.

"not so common at a Christian school, I once went to a party with Mia. There were lots of joints and cigarettes, but I never got any closer to the stuff"

"it's awesome, and you can buy it if you want. 18 and your parents can't really tell you shit"

Your mother's face appears in your vision and the feeling of shame spreads again.

"yes, they can..."

Ellie takes a drag on the cigarette and looks at you again.

Softer and more curious.

"fuck, you take this actually serious"

"yeah, what else should I do? A lot of people aren't here for fun, Ellie"

"yes, I can imagine, Dina takes it serious too"

Now she looks like the same person you remember meeting. Much more serious and proud. A little brave too.

"who's Dina?"

Ellie kicks a few stones with her shoe and her expression doesn't really tell you much.

"nobody. isn't important, but she takes it seriously."

You nod and respect her boundaries even if it's the last thing you want to do.

"You don't?"

"Fuck no" she laughs, but the wall that she has built up for herself for so long and with so much effort, is crumbling.

You could see and hear it. Her eyebrows frown and her voice was like a silky purr.

"Ellie- I know it's none of my business but why-"

"What do you think, doll? Ha, you remind me of a doll"

That distracts you.

You turn to her with a grin. "How do I remind you of a doll?"

the physical openness surprised Ellie, but she happily accepted it. she turned around and grins at you.

"quiet and pretty. but like, porcelain pretty as if you had been painted."

Holy shit.

you curse yourself for having said that, but it is the only thing that does justice to your feelings right now. your face gets warm and you can’t help but smile at that. You probably look dumb with that stupid grin on your face. No one ever said something like that so casually to you and your not sure if you wanted anyone else, but Ellie to be the one who does.

But it is a nice tingling sensation.

as if soft feathers were brushing against your skin.

"so what do you think I'm doing here?"

The nervous feeling visits you again but it is more caring than before, less careful.

"I'm sure you did something. I'm just not sure what exactly, but it must be bad, right?"

you actually just wanted to joke but Ellie's face turns gloomy again and she takes another puff of her rolled cigarette.

"maybe? I'm not really sure myself, it didn't feel wrong."

Confused, you watch her, her face, her tousled hair and her hand holding the poison, she is probably addicted to but cannot resist.

"Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."

"What?"

You giggle at her confusion, but immediately explain what you mean.

"Temptations are common in the Bible. And in the world too. They are everywhere even if we cannot see or feel them."

You both look forward now instead of at each other because that seems more pleasant. The green trees were barely visible now. At least not the leaves. The trunk was still there.

"But how do you know it's a temptation?"

Lost and maybe even confusion appear in Ellie's deep voice. Your heart breaks a little, like the first time you saw your grandpa cry.

"I believe that if it harms you or others, it is a clear sin. biblical and moral," you explain.

"There are rules... many." You add uncomfortable

Ellie nods at your words, not like you do with Hazel. She means it seriously and she listens.

"I know."

"So what did you do?"

She seems confused for a moment, but then memory flashes across her face and she looks straight ahead again.

"I kissed someone."

"You kissed someone?" You repeat slowly, grinning slightly.

That's not so bad.

"Well I kissed someone and got caught... doing something else. But it's related."

You nervously play with the fabric of your cardigan.

"Okay?"

So she had sex?

Sin before marriage, But we can let that slide.

God, you could fill a damn library with all the stories you heard in your class, about girls who were caught with boys in their beds.

"She didn't get into trouble. I'm the only one here."

your brain clicks it all together quickly. God in heaven, you are naive. naive, stupid and careless.

"oh"

Ellie chuckles breathy.

"oh"

she emphasizes in the same shocked tone as you.

you swallow, noticing how dry your throat is. your back feels cold and hot at the same time for the first time in your life you understand what Edvard Munch meant by his god damned “the scream“ painting.

if Ellie wasn't standing right in front of you, you probably wouldn't look any different.

“Ellie I- that like a very big sin"

the pebble dances beneath her feet, as she turns away from you.

"no shit"

"wait I didn't-"

what didn't you? you said what you were supposed to say.

why the fuck do you feel like you need to add something to that. To have another conversation with her.

To look at her and pray that she's already looking at you. She stops with her back to you.

You've never been sure how to deal with irritable people. You couldn't do it with your sister or brother, with Hazel or anyone else.

"I-I don't know what to say. but I don't want you to leave"

Truths

Truths

Truths.

that's not a sin.

if you were to say something different to her now, Things you should normally say, you would be lying.

you wouldn't be any better.

7/21/2007

Reader pov:

6:40 a.m

The air is stuffy. Grossly stuffy and thick.

Before you even open your eyes you notice how bright it is and look at your clock on the bedside table.

6:41 a.m

You let out a sigh and you can hear the snoring of a few of the other girls. Even though you don't have to get up until 7:30 it's not worth going back to sleep or even trying.

The chances of it working are slim. You unintentionally go over last night again.

Ellie confesses that she kissed a girl. You reacted like a good Christian girl, but after a few seconds you felt so bad that you stopped her from leaving and pulled her back. You said that you don't hate her, but that it's not right according to God. Ellie seemed to find that a bit annoying, but she was no longer in rabies mode.

Then you ran. well, not really ran, but you quickly turned around and went back to the fire.

It all became too much and it happened too fast. Ellie look after you touched her arm and she reacted to your words.

Your face turned red out of shame and the thought, that she might notice, bothered you.

When you came back from the campfire, Ellie wasn't in bed or in the bathroom. You were a little worried, apparently Ellie is the kind of person who sometimes doesn't let herself be seen for a while.

You bend your head out of bed and look at the top bunk opposite. still empty.

"Fuck," you mumble, stressed now.

You slowly get your legs out of bed and for the first time in years you are glad that you always have to sleep in the bottom bunk.

The floor is ice cold, but the sun outside gives the room warm air.

As you try to get up, you stupidly bang your head on the wall of the bed above you.

"Shit!"

You hear a few pillows and blankets rustling for a moment, but then the usual morning silence returns.

You quickly grab your slippers, a cardigan, your MP3 player and your Nokia. You wash your face and teeth and try to tame your hair. When you're done, you standing lost in the hallway. Nobody seems to be awake.

You put your headphones on and play your playlist. It was a mix of The Killers and Coldplay, since luckily your parents didn't just show you 80s music.

All these things that I've done. You love this song.

You try to go down the stairs at the beat, but quickly realise that it's much too loud. You scurry past the boys' hallway and there isn't a soul either. Kate's boyfriend should have arrived last night. You hate Kate's boyfriend.

There are a few more people awake on the first floor, but you don't really want to start a conversation, so you try to scurry to the end of the hallway, past the common room and the dining room.

you've almost reached the door to freedom, when someone says your name.

Pastor Tobias. great.

"good morning, young lady" it always confuses you that he talks like he’s 50. he's only in his mid-30s.

"Hello Pastor Tobias, how are you this morning?"

the pastor comes closer.

"I feel especially blessed today"

you both laugh uncomfortably at his words.

"Are you on your way to pray in church? The church is already open, my morning prayers are very important to me."

"um..." actually that's not the reason, but then he would definitely not let you out. you make a mental note to stop by the church later. "Yes, exactly. Isn't that how you'd like your morning to start?"

The man nods in agreement and also... proudly?

"You could be a great worship leader one day… I don't want to hold you up. But please be back for breakfast, You know how time flies when you're praying."

Another unpleasant laugh and then you're through the door.

You arrive in the cold air, wearing only your short striped pj shorts, a spaghetti top and a green knit jacket. Your gaze glides over the large meadow.

Everything is exactly like yesterday, only with a lot more fog and a lot fewer people.

You love this hour of day. Everyone is about to wake up and you get a last look at the world, without loud noises, lots of people and tasks. As you walk across the meadow towards the lake, your non-waterproof shoes soak up the water from the meadow. Your legs start to freeze as well.

You pray that you won't have a cold tomorrow. You walk past the large church and the fireplace. Just as you are almost at the lake, you see a figure emerging from the grass walking towards you.

You recognize him immediately.

Caleb Thompson. You have known each other for years and your churches are very close to each other. Every year he is here, just like you, and every year Hazel tries to get a date with him or a phone number, anything.

You have the urge to either run back and pretend you never saw him or hide in the grass. Both are out of the question, as he is already far too close and has probably seen you.

"Don't come too close to me, psycho" - yes, you were expecting a reaction like that, but he likes to exaggerate. He takes two steps away from you.

"I haven't forgotten how sick you are, girl. Don't do anything stupid or I'll tell everyone what happened, I promise, bitch".

Your eyes widen, he walks past you with his arms protectively outstretched.

"It wasn't that bad, motherfucker"

- he stops and turns around.

"What did you just call me?" You stop too.

For years you've wanted to tell him how much of a fucked up person he really is, but for Hazel's sake you never did. But now you’re sure that they won’t end as a couple anyway.

"Motherfucker, Caleb. You're a real asshole"

- you say with your arms crossed.

His long, blonde hair lies in his face and looks pretty unkempt, as if he's been swimming at night and hasn't showered. "You cunt-"

He comes at you, you mentally prepare yourself. But an arm separates you and pushes him away.

"Jesus Caleb, calm down." You know that voice.

Her short reddish, brown hair is in a little braid this time and she still seems to be in her sleeping clothes.

"the fuck Ellie you don't know shit-"

"yeah but I also don't care about shit, I just know you shouldn't hit a girl. so please piss off"

he lets out a loud, annoyed breath like men always do and turns around, and if he wasn't walking on grass you would probably hear his stomping pretty well.

"you didn't have to do that"

Ellie's eyes meet yours for the first time since yesterday.

"yeah, but I still did. No matter how sweet your little ego is, that guy would have ripped you to pieces. no offens"

how much you want to tell her that that's not true and how shitty he is, how much he deserves it, but you don't.

"whatever"

"where are you going?"

the question surprises you. up until now you were obsessed with starting a conversation with Ellie, up until now it wasn't based on reciprocity.

If you weren’t nervous before, you sure as hell are now.

"to the lake" your voice is a bit quiet but she seems to have heard it, her gaze wanders behind you to the lake and she shrugs her shoulders.

"okay" then she walks past you towards the lake. you frown.

She looks over her shoulder.

"are you coming?"

"yeah!" you quickly try to keep up with her pace.

"what are you doing here so early?"

you ask her while walking quickly.

"actually I wanted to swim, but the water is so fucking cold"

"you swim? Like, professionally"

"when I was little I was in the swimming club for 3 years, but now I only swim when I want and can" she grinned at you.

your stomach tickles nervously.

"were you good"

she chuckles at you. "yes I was really fucking good"

a smile spreads across your lips and you follow her to the jetty. You sit down at the end of the long wooden path. you take off your shoes and put you legs in the water. "cold!"

Ellie giggles next to you. "told you"

you grin back and nudge her with your elbow. you are sitting so close that you can feel the warmth of her body on your arm.

Something’s not right. Something’s different. Different from when you talk to Hazel or Caleb or anyone. This feels like you belong somewhere. With her, as weird as that sounds since she’s someone who likes the same sex.

But then you remember, Your sister once spent a year abroad in Germany and brought you cactus popsicle. The tip of the ice, made a crackling sound in your mouth that was funny, unreal and ticklish. you laughed the whole evening at the reactions of your family members. that's exactly how it feels right now.

like German cactus popsicle.

You dare to look at Ellie.

she is also wearing pjs pants and a white tank top with a grey hoodie jacket over it. her hair is imperceptibly and tousled probably from being limp, but you find it kind of cute.

Ellie is always so serious and sarcastic, but you are sure she is a bit softer and more sensitive, than she likes to show.

This "look" shows you that again. She’s just a girl too, a very complicated and chaotic girl.

"why don't you swim anymore?" you ask her.

"Joel said I took it too seriously back then, now that I think about it, he was probably right."

Ellie's playfully kicks the water like a stone on the road.

"who's Joel?"

she gives you a quick glance to the side.

"my adoptive father."

"oh" you try to suppress the surprise in your voice but it doesn't work.

"did he send you here?"

you hope you're not asking too many personal questions, but Ellie doesn't seem to mind.

"no, that was my aunt and uncle, I'm here for the summer while Joel is enjoying his life on the coast of Malibu . Oregon really sucks compared to Malibu."

you nod thoughtfully.

"what is he doing in Malibu? … and what are you doing here and not in Malibu?"

"Honeymoon. my old man is just married, but Tess is really sweet, I like her"

"Tess, pretty name" you reply.

"yes, the wedding was nice, I even got to play the guitar for Take on Me" another fulfilled smile appears on her face as she watches the water.

Ellie has lots of things that make her happy and feel good. No matter how broken the pastor thinks she is, it's not true. She is one of the most complete people you have ever seen.

"I can play the piano" you grin at her surprised reaction.

"Piano, huh? I tried to learn it once, but it's too complicated for me, I'll stick with guitars. Huge respect though doll"

the nickname she gives you, makes you feel warm, your heart jumps excited and the trust you give her feels good. Safe.

"yes, my mother forced me to learn it as a child so that I could play for the choir, so please don't laugh at me if I have to do that here too."

"I would never laugh at you. Especially not because of something impressive"

now you obviously turn your head towards her. For a few seconds you just look at each other, as if you had to upgrade each other's bodies and faces all over again.

"You’re very Sweet Ellie."

The girl's freckles are affected by the redness of her face and she looks away again. You want to talk about yesterday, you can't really get last night out of your head.

"About yesterday..."

Now she shakes her head quickly.

"Just forget it. I know what you think about it... but I don't want it to stand between us. You're much too nice, please just forget it."

You can hear her impatience but also her fear.

"It doesn't bother me." You reply softly

"What?"

It breaks your heart how surprised she is. How much she expects the hate and rejection.

John 15:12: My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.

"I don't really mind it. however you feel about this or about yourself it doesn't matter. you are made of love Ellie."

You have never felt this wise in your entire life, and never more like yourself too.

"that was so cheesy holy shit"

you bump your shoulder hard against hers, laughing.

"fuck you"

just as you were about to sit down a bit more comfortable you fidget a bit trying to find a comfortable position, as Ellie bumps her shoulder so hard into yours, at such a wrong moment that you were in the water in three seconds. You fail and try to hold on to her, but pull her in with you.

The cold water embraces your body unexpected. Your clothes absorb the water so quickly, that as soon as you reach the surface your cardigan is as heavy as stone.

Luckily you put your phone and your mp3 player out of your pocket before whatever this is happened.

You gasp loudly and the cold that takes over your face turns your cheeks a fiery red.

"Ellie what the fuck-"

You admit, you actually intended to be mad, her clumsiness got you into cold water but she just laughs loud. Your arms slide slowly in rhythm to your sides and keep you above water.

"I'm so sorry really but-"

she starts laughing again.

You are sure that she will wake up the whole camp with her laughter. Grinning, you swim over to her.

"Okay Ellie calm down. You’re gonna drown from Laughing-„

Splashes of water land in your face and you let out a little scream. The other girl looks you over teasingly and moves away.

"You're so done"

In a matter of seconds a shaft of water starts and all you can hear is the loud splashing of the water and the screaming of two girls.

splash

Water in Ellie's face, but she manages to protect herself with her arms.

splash

Water hits your face for the third time and you laugh and squeeze your eyes shut.

"Okay, I give up," you gasp.

"Yeah, you better,"

Ellie Chuckles, also completely soaked.

You look at her.

Her wet hair is stickt to her cheeks and she has this grin that would make you do anything. And she's funny, so damn funny. And beautiful, especially now. She's like salt water. She's like the sea. Wild and grumpy and salty. When you're with her, you feel the way you do when you hear a really good song for the first time.

"You okay?"

You quickly leave your thoughts behind and nod at her.

"Never been better,"

she laughs. To your surprise, she then lets herself float on the surface of the water. Her arms outstretched and her eyes closed. You do the same and the both of you lie next to each other.

Her pointed fingers lightly brush against yours.

She’s Like salt water. As soon as you notice it, it starts to burn and you want to wash it off straight away.

To all the closeted queer people in church; you matter and you’re a real icon. There are more gays in religious spaces than you think!!! Try finding each other, it helps a lot!! Spend time with the people who love and enjoy who you are ❤️ ( GAYYYY)

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FORGIVE ME

Taglist: @elliewilliamgfooc @a-little-bit-of-everybody @vqxen @hersuniverse @nelzooo @shiimer @bready101

[slutforln4]

libertine — joel miller.

synopsis. you've been having sexual fantasies about the substitute professor at your college. when the opportunity to get a better mark on a shitty essay you wrote arises, you take it. quite literally take it.

pairing. professor!joel x student!reader/fem!reader

warnings. smut, a smidge of fluff at the end, masturbation in a public bathroom, joel's got a southern accent that i tried to make obvious in the fic (if it's crappy, 'm sorry), oral (m receiving), unprotected piv, inexperienced and virgin reader, age gap (reader is in their early 20s and joel's in his late 40s), dom/sub dynamics praise kink, dirty talk. idk what else there is...

goes without saying but this is 18+, MDNI. i'm not responsible for what typa media you consume, but beware for your own good.

word count. 2.6k

author's note. i haven't written smut before so here's my shot at the self-indulgent professor!joel hc that i have... hope you enjoy ❤️ part two in the makings if this does well!!

Classic literature didn't come easy to you, but fucking your professor did.

It started off as every normal day at college did— you flow through your entire schedule, some free time here and there, during which you manage to take a nap or catch up on missing assignments, and at the end of almost every day, you were met with the class you hated, but also loved, the most… Classic literature.

The class itself is fairly easy. All you had to do was read some novels, write essays based on topics from said novels and also write a thorough analysis of it. Easy stuff. But you struggled with the essay writing, it just wasn't your thing.

However, you can't say that you didn't enjoy the class. The most interesting part of it being that substitute professor, Mr. Miller, that just transferred in. Him and that Texan accent of his, those deep, brown eyes, that salt-and-pepper hair trailing down his jaw, those luscious thighs and whatever's hiding behind the zipper of his jeans… You can't stop thinking about it.

It’s been occupying your mind for however long he's been working at your college, and you can't help but have those thoughts when it comes to him. From the way he looks, down to the way he talks about love, he’s attractive inside and out. The way he talks about women, though, was the thing that caught your attention the most. He speaks so highly of them that it almost seems like he worships them, which makes you want to fuck him all the more.

The day you decided to put your mind to rest and have your body do the work, Mr. Miller had put up another assignment.

You dreadfully open up your email at the beginning of class, and groan when the body of it reads “Essay about the importance of expressing love in current youth based on your analysis of Romeo and Juliet due next week Thursday, midnight.”

Turning off your phone, you assert your attention back to your professor. He stood there, in his suit and all, looking more delicious than ever as he reminded your class to check their emails. The stern tone in his voice made your insides flutter, and the way he held onto his waist… God, you can't help but rub your thighs together to hide the throbbing between your legs, already feeling the wetness in your panties.

“Alright, pull out ya laptops and open up that website I told y’all about,” Mr. Miller says, and you’re the first one to obey his order. He gives you a look and when your eyes lock with his, he smiles at you. “As I already mentioned in the emails, we’ll be readin’ and analysin’ Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.”

The more he spoke, the less you could pay attention. Your eyes travelled all over his face, his chest, down to his crotch. Even without a hard-on, there was an imprint in his dress pants. Mr. Miller was the type to speak with his hands, resulting in you ogling at the way his fingers move in the air.

Mr. Miller begins talking about how love is portrayed in the tragedy, his tone changing with each point he makes. You stare at his lips, silently wishing they were on your body, somewhere. Anywhere would be fine as long as all his attention was on you. On all the parts that long for his touch.

You try your best to focus on what he’s saying, writing down what you need to remember. Your thighs are clenching together again when Mr.Miller scratches the back of his head, his bicep visible through the sleeve of his jacket. That’s about as much as you can take.

You hesitantly get up from your seat, mumbling a quiet “excuse me” as you walk out through the doors. It must've looked weird, since you ran out the door in such a rush, but you didn't care. Your main concern was finding a bathroom before all the thoughts about your professor fucking you into oblivion could make you cum on the spot.

You hurry past all the staff that are scattered across the halls and barge into the women’s bathroom. It's quiet and you’re sure you're alone, but you still check. “Hello?” No response. You hurry yourself into a stall and lock the door.

You don't even lift the toilet seat when you sit down on it, your skirt and panties on the floor. You spread your legs and put your fingers into a V shape, spreading your lips open. Using your other hand, you gather some of the arousal that’s been leaking out of you for the past twenty minutes and use it to coat your clit as your finger slowly rubs circles on it.

"That’s it,” you can almost hear Mr. Miller talking in your ear. “That’s my girl.”

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself, feeling yourself getting more horny with the flood of thoughts that won't stop. Your finger rubs circles on your clit, increasing the pressure from time to time. Subconsciously, your hand unbuttons the shirt you’re wearing to reveal your bare chest and begins twirling your hard nipple. You imagine it's his hands, that he’s the one pleasuring you. Your finger’s now working at a pace you can't keep up with, quietly moaning out your professors last name when you use the hand that was rubbing your clit to finger yourself.

One finger in and you’re already gasping at the image on the back of your eyelids. You’re imagining it's his fingers in you, his cock in his other hand as he jerks himself off. You put a second finger in and start thrusting it in and out, when the image changes to his hips clashing into yours as his dick hits spots your fingers could only dream of. Your hips jolt against your fingers at the image of his veiny cock so vividly throbbing in your imagination.

You bring your other hand down to your clit, rubbing the throbbing nub once again. “Fuck,” you whimper as you feel your climax nearing. Your fingers curl inside you, and you’re about to let go.

“Attagirl,” the voice in the back of your head says and that’s the last push for you to cum all over your own fingers, your juices leaking out onto the toilet seat. You continue rubbing your clit until your climax wears off.

When you’re back in the classroom, everyone's already left, only Mr. Miller’s sat at his desk, typing away. His eyes look up at you when you enter through the door. “Oh, hey. I kept your stuff safe, since ya left in such a rush.” A comforting smile decorates his face. He’s so considerate it makes your clit throb again.

“Uh, thank you, sir.” You mumble shyly, packing your stuff into your bag and getting ready to leave. Mr. Miller’s eyes are on you when you turn back towards him.

He clears his throat. “I also wanted to speak to ya ‘bout somethin’.”

“Oh,” you nod. “Alright, what is it?”

“Listen, sweetheart. Y’know the last essay I assigned you to write?” He asks, eyebrows raised in question. You bite your bottom lip as you think back on what the last assignment was. When you remember, you nod. “Alright, well… You didn't do too good on it.”

“I know,” you laugh awkwardly, trying to hide the shame you feel. “It wasn't my finest work.”

“Yeah.” He laughs with you in an attempt to ease the situation. “But, uh. You can rewrite it and I’ll raise your mark. Whaddya say?”

You think it over for a moment, before shaking your head. “I think I could…” You’re not sure where this confidence is coming from, but you’re suddenly approaching him. “Get my mark up another way…” Your eyes glance down at his crotch and you bite your lip. When Mr. Miller realises what you’re insinuating, he shakes his head, but his eyes say different.

“Honey, it goes against teacher-student policy, you know that.” He reminds you, but you’re already on your knees in front of him and under his desk, batting your long eyelashes at him to get your way. His bulge grows right in front of your face and you don't think anymore, you just do. Your fingers are unclasping his belt, unzipping his pants and pulling them down. “Sweetheart-” he gets cut off by his dick springing up after you pull his boxers down, precum already leaking out of it. “Fuck.”

You look at him, not sure of what to do. You’ve never sucked a dick before, and the one in front of you would surely end up somehow fucking up your throat. You contemplate just sitting down on it, riding it like you did to your pillow when you woke up from a wet dream about him. That is, until he speaks. “You gonna stare at it or suck it like you wanted to?”

The tone in his voice changed from formal and sweet to deep and dominant, and you’re wet again from just the sound of it. “I’ve never, uh… done this before.”

Mr. Miller nods his head towards you. “Put your lips on the tip,” you do as told, your lips wrapping around the tip of his cock. “Just like that,” he says, his voice wavering. “Now put it in your mouth,” you hesitate to do so, instead wrapping your fingers around the base of his large cock. “Don't be shy, you want your mark up, don't ya?”

You nod, slowly opening your mouth to put more of his cock in. When it hits the back of your throat, you gag a bit. “Breathe through your nose, babygirl.” You do as told and the gagging goes away. “Now, slowly bob your head up and down. Yeah, just- just like that, fuck.” You're bobbing your head up and down on his dick, your fingers working at the base of it. His hips buckle and his dick thrusts deeper in your throat. A moan rumbles in your throat and vibrates on Mr. Miller’s dick, and he has to refrain himself from shoving his whole dick down your throat.

“Fuck, just like that,” he moans. “Good girl.” The praise makes you that much more wet, and you moan against his dick again.

Suddenly, the door swings open and Mr. Miller sits up, looking at whoever entered his classroom. Your mouth doesn't leave his cock, you simply thrust it in your mouth harder, using your tongue to caress his shaft. “Good evening,” he greets the janitor who came in to clean the classroom. “I, uh, I still got some,” Mr. Miller balls his fingers into a fist as he holds back a moan, trying his best to focus on the conversation with your mouth still sucking him off. “I’m still workin’, gimme thirty more minutes.”

The door closes behind the janitor and Mr. Miller leans back against his chair, his eyes half-lidded and looking down at you. He feels his orgasm nearing when you begin pumping the base of his cock again, along with thrusting his dick into your mouth. “I’ll be cummin’ in your mouth if you don't pull away right now, sweetheart.”

Your mouth leaves his cock, but your fingers still jerk him off. A deep moan leaves his lips as a string of hot cum shoots out in loads onto your clothed chest and neck. You’re still pumping his dick when he motions for you to get up. You stand up from under his desk and he’s immediately pulling you closer to himself. You're sat on his lap, dick still hard and rubbing on your belly as his lips connect with yours. He can still taste himself in your mouth and he smirks at that.

His hands are on your knees, but with each kiss, they inch closer and closer to where you need him the most. When he reaches the wet spot on your panties, he grins against your mouth. “So ready for me, hm?”

You nod, whimpering at the soft contact of his finger to your clothed clit. “Yes, Mr. Miller, please-”

“Call me Joel,” he mumbles as his fingers wrap around the waistband of your panties and tug them off of you. He slowly grabs you by the waist and aligns his cock with your dripping cunt.

“Wait-” you pause kissing him when you feel the tip brushing up against your folds. “I haven't- Y’know…”

Joel smirks. “You a virgin, baby?” You nod, slowly. “I’ll take care of ya, I promise.” You feel his finger rub over your hole, gathering some of your slick to rub it on his dick.

His hands slowly lower your waist down, his cock slipping past your folds with ease and you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up. It’s everything you’ve been dreaming of. He’s so big that it feels like you’re being split open. “You okay?” He asks you with a kiss to your collarbone. You nod, your bottom lip between your teeth and hands tightly gripping onto his shoulders. “Good, ‘cause this ain't all of it yet,” he says, voice low and taunting, before lowering you all the way down. You whimper as you feel his cock brush against your cervix.

“Fuck,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his lips as you adjust to the size of him. Joel just holds you there, not moving you until you’re ready. His fingers find your throbbing clit and start rubbing it, your lips still connected. “Mmh,” you moan, your hips jolting towards his fingers and moving his dick deeper inside of you.

You begin pushing yourself up and slipping back down, a string of moans leaving your lips. “Attagirl.”

You’re riding his cock, feeling each and every inch of him filling up your insides. You can feel every throb of his veins pulsing inside of you and you catch all his moans with your lips. His hands are gripping your hips, pulling you down with more force. The classroom is filled with sounds of skin clashing on skin. You’re moaning and whimpering, his cock threatening to tip you over the edge. “I’m… I-” you can't even speak.

“You what, baby?” He asks, his thumbs digging into your hips with the intensity of your thrusts. “You gonna cum for me? You gon’ be a good girl and cum all on my dick?” You can't manage to speak so you nod, tears spilling from your eyes as you feel your climax approaching.

He’s thrusting up at you, now, his climax approaching him again. You're a moaning and whimpering mess, begging him to make you cum with the broken words you’re mumbling. “Ple- Please… Fu-uck, Joel…”

“Let go for me,” he coaxes, his lips right by your ear. “I got you, pretty girl.”

With a loud moan, you’re cumming all over his dick and you feel his hot liquid fill up your insides with a couple more thrusts of his hips. Joel kisses you again. Like a starving man that hasn't eaten for days on end. He kisses you with passion, with more than just lust behind those eyes.

When you both pull away, he makes sure to clean you up. “You were so good for me, sweetheart.” He praises. “So good.”

You’re not sure what to say, so you just kiss him again. And again. And one more time. Until he’s kissing on your neck again, but he inevitably stops and leans into your ear. “I gotta get to work, baby.”

“Okay,” you say with a sigh. “Thanks for helping me with the essay,” your lips pull into a small smirk as you open the door to his classroom.

“All thanks to you.” He returns the same smile. “Couldn’t have finished it without you.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “You’re so unfunny,” and close the door behind yourself.

[keqism]

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐒

⌇ feat. itoshi rin

⌇ premise. your boyfriend is a liar with a sweet tooth

⌇ cw. GN reader, rin & reader are aged up (20+), profanity. not sponsored by haribo !

Orange gummy bears are the bane of your existence. 

Tart with a bitter aftertaste, the revolting flavor is enough to trigger your gag reflex. Fortunately for you, they're Itoshi Rin's favorite. It's the reason I'm dating you, you joke sometimes, only to be scoffed at. But despite the cold glares, he secretly enjoys it when you hand-feed him the orange jellies.  

It's a ritual between you and him that started in high school. The two of you were seatmates, to Rin's delight. You were pretty, he had always thought. Sitting next to you allowed him to sneak glances at your face, admiring the curve of your nose and the plush of your lips. But despite the close proximity, he could never muster the courage to say a word to you.

It had started off as an awful, rainy day. Rin had slept through his alarm, missed his morning bowl of ochazuke, and sprinted to catch his bus in the rain. Soaked and hungry, he opened his emergency pack of Haribo gummy bears and snuck bites of the colorful jellies during algebra class to tame the loud beast in his stomach. 

He had been biting the head of an orange gummy when a piece of paper landed on his desk. 

the orange ones are the worst! it read, once unfolded. Cautious teal eyes flicked up to meet your unabashed staring, and Rin felt his heart skip a beat at your teasing smile. And when the teacher turned around to face the blackboard, the paper was flicked back onto your desk. 

everyone knows the white gummies are the grossest. You laughed quietly at the note, oblivious to the way his eyes lingered on your lips, before scribbling something back.

if you don't like the white ones, could i take them? they're my favorite :3

And so on a slightly less awful, rainy day, Itoshi Rin found himself sharing gummy bears with you in the back of his algebra classroom.

It was your shared sweet tooth that brought you together. The once awkward silence between classes was filled with your bright laughter and the crinkle of the cellophane gummy packet that he would always split with you. As the school days flew by, Rin realized that he wanted to share more than gummies with you. His first kiss, his body, his cold, guarded heart—he wanted you to have it all. And so when the last bittersweet days of youth came to an end, he asked you to be his.

That was years ago. Now, Itoshi Rin is everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. He brews your favorite coffee every morning, does your skincare routine for you when you fall asleep on the couch, and hides you in the safety of his chest when days get difficult. He does his best to hold his sharp tongue and soften his personality when he's with you. He marks your birthday and anniversary in big red letters on the calendar on his wall. 

So when you storm into the living room, your face livid, Rin has no idea what he's done wrong. 

"Itoshi fucking Rin!" you seethe, your arms crossed over your chest. From the couch, Rin gapes at you in confusion, trying to remember if he accidentally washed your white underwear with the colored clothes again. 

"What? What did I do?" An ungodly squeak leaves his mouth as you push him back by the shoulders, clambering into his lap. 

A sharp finger pokes his chest. "You're a little liar," you spit, "I stopped by the grocery store with Bachira to get you gummy bears and you know what he told me? He said that you hate the orange flavor the most!" 

Rin snaps his eyes shut and groans, cursing his friend for being so mouthy. "Hear me out—," he tries to explain, but you slap your hand over his mouth, his cheeks stinging from the impact. 

"Don't even try," you hiss at him, expression petulant. "I'm not even mad that you lied. I'm mad that you let me feed you the disgusting flavor." You push off of his lap, storming away to your bedroom. The door slams and Rin flinches at the sound.

A moment of bewildered silence passes before he slowly makes his way to the bedroom. Gently opening the door, he peers inside to see you on your bed, wrapped in your duvet. The bed dips under his weight as he sits on the edge, a hand coming up to rub your back. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I don't hate the orange ones, I promise. They're just not my favorite."

The bundle of blankets on the bed rustles as you slide your hand out, dropping something in his lap. The cellophane of the opened Haribo gummy bear packet crinkles as Rin peers inside it. 

"I ate all the orange ones for you," you sniff, poking your head out of the blankets. "I hated every second of it. I hate you."

Rin laughs before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

HCs of Alfie with a younger wife? Like in her mid 20s 💕

Hello my darling!!! I’m sorry this took forever! But I am back!!! Please enjoy this little nugget. Also y’all HCs are so fun!!!! Maybe I should do more.

He wasn’t planning on marrying a younger woman. Let’s be honest he wasn’t planning on getting married PERIOD.

But then you blustered in…

You came in. Full of wisdom so far beyond your age. Full of confidence that came from the knowledge that you were the best you you could be. Full of light that he thought would flee from a man like him.

He immediately was drawn to you. Your soothing voice that brought down his rage, which so quickly could come full force against him when he got too brash and foolish, reminding him that there’s no need to destroy what was not yet broken.

Despite the incurable draw to you, he said he would stay away. Be respectful. Be a respectful old man.

You would have none of it. Because truthfully he wasn’t that old. He was just snippy and preferred his habits. He hadn’t been a young man ever since the war. Regardless what his birth certificate said.

In truth it didn’t take too much to get him to relent. He’s just a man in front of a beautifully infuriating woman. And after a screaming match ending with you laughing at his reddening ears and hoarse voice, he let himself finally say it, “Right then. Now only my woman gets to screech at me like you do. So I’ll see you tomorrow night? Take you to the pictures and maybe dinner?”

And soon enough he asked for your hand, rumors and shaking heads be damned. He needed you more than air, and for some reason you loved him just as much.

Alfie expected his life would change once you were moved into his home. Was only natural. But he didn’t expect to change THIS much.

Or that he would like it. That he would feel like a chasm he didn’t realize he had was finally sealed up and healed with the first morning he woke up to you next to him.

Younger yes. Unorganized you were not. And very quickly upon your arrival did you see the bachelor pad state and work your magic to rectify. To turn this dragon’s cave into an actual home. Curtains and windows finally opened to let in fresh air. Ledgers and letters were filed away. The garden in the back finally being tended to to indicate actual humans lived and loved on the premises.

Remember that Alfie has been a bachelor the majority of his life. Any pretty women which came into his life were quickly shoo’d away. So to say he was puzzled by your… womanly… tools?? Weapons??… was putting it lightly.

“My dove now what the fuck are these? They look like tiny dinner rolls.”

“They’re rollers Alfie! For my hair! Gives it the wave.”

“Right right hair wave rollers yes of course. Now what about these… powders and things?”

“My rouge and lipstick darling.”

He didn’t get it at all.

Though Alfie is partial to opera and the absolute classics, he adores the new music you bring home. His family in Boston adore you immensely and have taken to mailing you the newest records in America.

If you’re extra sweet, you can usually coax him to dance with you, spinning yourself around him in a tizzy. By the end of your evenings he’s drunk without even a single sip of rum.

He’s never been so happy. So care free. But there is this nagging feeling in his stomach. One that won’t go away. That maybe you’re not truly happy. That you’re secretly wishing to be back out with the young people. To go out dancing in pretty dresses instead of in the living room in your dressing gown. To be fawned over in illustrious restaurants instead of cooking dinner together most nights. Had he robbed you of your youth simply because he’s selfish?

He never tells you this. No being a man means keeping your feelings inside and not letting your woman see you less than perfectly confident. (His words not mine)

But you read him so easily. It’s easy when you love someone so completely. Especially if your lover gets the deepest scowl on his face when he’s troubled, staring deep into space.

When you finally coax him out of him, he merely grumbled like a shifting mountain, trying to brush it off.

But oh how he wished he told you sooner. You assure him that you never really enjoyed the clubs and high society outings. You much preferred to stay home with your friends and other loved ones. What could possibly be out there that could even come close to what you have in the house.

When you do manage to get out of the house, either to the cinema, walking Cyril, venturing out for dinner, or because you insisted that walking is good for him, he is fully aware of the stares.

Some are… disapproving. As much as they can be towards the King of Camden. But the ones he is most irritated by are the love sick stares of the young men who trail after you. Clearly covetous and stupid enough to be blind to the beast that walks close beside you.

He is shocked you don’t notice. When he brings it up to you, you merely laugh, “Why would I be noticing men staring? The only man I’m concerned with is you.”

That comment makes him smirk wickedly, grasping firmly to your waist as you laughed brightly, swatting his chest playfully when he growls in your ear.

For all your ferocity and fiery eyes, Alfie still dotes on you and frets over you. Little presents are common. He insists on you bundling at the slightest drop of temperature or precipitation. And begrudgingly “permits” you to attend to errands on your own (you and everyone else knows he would never forbid you unless it was truly dangerous. But he loves to rile you up and tease).

You’ll never want for anything being his bride. Nothing is off limits for you. Even if he does make a show of pulling out bank notes, groaning about how his bank account suffers. Even when he’s the one that insists on buying you new things.

He may be the older one, but you are some how so much more wiser and practical. Anchoring him to the present when the nightmares come. Secretly convening with his doctors to heal the deep aches and malaise. He insists you’re magic.

To some it’s unconventional. Your love doesn’t make sense. But to those who truly know, you’re a match made in heaven.

[hauntedhokage]

a welcome confession

Priest!Nanami Kento/Fem!Reader and some Yuuji Itadori/Fem!Reader (some Sukuna/Fem!Reader)

act i of a lamb's devotion | act ii not posted | act iii: salvation | ao3 series

summary: an introduction to the town’s new priest and an evening with your best friend bring about the most interesting confessional you think you will ever experience. 

word count: 4.3k

warnings: MDNI, alternate universe - no jujutsu, sex in an alleyway, use of “good girl”, “little one”, “little lamb”, unprotected sex, hair pulling, Sukuna talks a bit, priest kink, blasphemy up the ass, improper use of prayer and a confessional booth, description of sexual acts, male masturbation, mentions of a small age gap (around sevenish years, reader is in her early-mid 20’s and Nanami is in his early thirties), mentions of demons, reader has both parents, 

Nanami Masterlist | All Masterlists | Ko-fi |

A new face in town was a big deal. Your return to town was also a big deal, which made you grateful for the new priest who pulled the attention away from you and onto him. You felt for the guy, but you also couldn’t be bothered too much because your mother was very concerned with how you’d find a suitable partner now that you were back in the small town and your father wanted you to use your education to get a better job than just bar tending at the local dive.

The new priest gave them something else to talk about when you stopped by for breakfast, and that was just fine. 

“Oh, honey, you just have to come with us to Mass. Father Kento delivers a wonderful sermon.” Your mother had said, gently patting your hand in her own way of telling you that she missed you going to church with her. Your father had only looked at you before drinking more of his coffee, and you’d sighed before agreeing. But you knew that to take the sacrament you’d need to go to confession, and that has you going to the church on your way to the bar one evening. 

It looked the same as it did before you’d left, but you supposed churches never change. Maybe got fresh coats of paint, pews replaced as they reached their end of life, but never a true overhaul. Not the church. There was still the dent in the wall from where your middle school boyfriend had fallen headfirst while trying to act drunk off the communion wine. Some things don’t change - churches were one of those things.

“Good evening.” The greeting has you turning, adjusting the way the strap of your bag sits on your shoulder and you almost choke on air when you see the man who had to be Father Kento. Priests weren’t supposed to be handsome; how could they guide their congregation to resist temptation if they themselves were the temptation? Maybe this was a test? Did you already fail?

“Uh, h-hi- hello. You must be Father Kento?”

“I am,” he nods, resting a hand on his hip as you take a step closer. “And who might you be, little lamb?”

And you introduce yourself, taking the hand he extends in a firm handshake as you explain who your parents were to provide more recognition. It clicks, and there’s additional recognition in his face that tells you that he’d been given a heads up about you - or at least told that your mother would love to see you in the church again. She was very open about how she felt, never anything truly negative but she wanted the best for you and thought you’d find that in the light of the Lord.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“I was wondering when you held confessionals, Father. Before they were on Saturdays in the early evening, has that changed?”

“No, I still hold confessionals at that time. I also try to hold confessionals before the youth group starts on Wednesdays, but you can always stop by whenever you’d like. God’s house is always open.”

“Yeah, I need to confess before Sunday. If I can’t take the sacrament the town will crucify me, so…” you trail off, knowing that what you said was likely the worst thing you could say to a priest besides confessing that you wanted to climb him like a tree. You needed to leave, plain and simple, before you ended up making a total ass of yourself in front of the hot priest. “But, uh, I’ve gotta run to work. Thank you for talking with me for a moment, and welcome to town, Father.”

“God be with you little one. I’ll see you soon.”

“Thank you, Father.”

The bar you spent your evenings at was small. You wouldn’t call it a dive, it was just the only real option that wasn’t the strip club on the other side of your small town or drinking at home. You were told that business picked up when word got around that you were working there, as your father’s friends and some others you’d grown up with were curious as to what the hell you were doing back here. If they asked, you were just feeling homesick and wanted to make sure your grandmother’s house didn’t go uninhabited (since you knew your mother wouldn’t sell it).

It was easy work, you liked it. 

“Hey, pretty lady.”

And then there was Yuuji. Your childhood best friend, the boy you’d on-off dated through high school, your adult best friend and the only person you know who fully understands how you feel about being back in town. He was your favorite person, always stopping into the bar to say hi and have a drink - always tipping nicely even though you put the cash back into his wallet after your shift. Right now there wasn’t anything serious between you, but the sex was incredible now that you’d separated for university and come back with other experiences. If you thought hard enough about it, you could probably see yourself falling into the small town curse and marrying him. That was just how things worked around here. 

“Hi, Yuuji. How was the shop today?”

“Busy,” he laughs, accepting the glass of water you hand him with a grateful smile. “But Mother’s Day is around the corner, y’know.”

“Yeah, which reminds me-”

“I saved an arrangement for you. I know you said you were working on your thesis all day.”

“Yeah,” you mumble with a sigh, leaning forward against the counter as he does. “You wanna come over tonight?”

“You know I do. But I wanna do something with you tonight.”

“Do what?” 

He leans in closer, gesturing for you to do the same. You comply, leaning forward so that you were basically laying on the bar so he could properly get close to your ear to whisper, “I wanna fuck you in the back alley.”

“Yuuji,” you whisper back, gently swatting his arm when he lets out a small laugh. “You’re so bad. What if someone sees?”

“Who’s gonna be snooping around by the dumpster at one in the morning? I’ve been thinking about you all day and I don’t wanna wait until we get to a house.”

And you don’t stop him after your shift, grateful for the way he catches on when you lock the front door of the bar first before going between the bar and the bank next door to get to the back door to lock it. The keys are still in your hand when he’s got you pressed against the cold brick wall, his kiss bordering on frantic as his hands travel your body to the button of your jeans. 

“Wanna fuck you from behind so I don’t have to take these off all the way, you gonna let me?”

Of course you would. There were logistical reasons why it’d be the best way, but you can’t think clearly enough to list them after he’s got you turned against the wall and your pants down around your thighs. When did Yuuji get so fast?

“You’re already soaked, girl,” he groans, teeth grazing against your jawline. “Don’t have time to finger you, just need to get inside you.”

And you don’t complain when you feel the blunt tip of his cock graze your clit before dragging back along your slit until he’s teasing your entrance. Only for a moment, then he’s pushing inside while his fingers dig into the soft flesh at your hips. His pace is bruising from the start, everything about the way his body touches yours rough and consuming.

“Don’t ruin that pretty face on the brick, I’d never forgive you.”

If that was a concern, he’d offer something to protect your skin since Yuuji was always so sweet - even when he was impatient. But you supposed that maybe the environment and potential for exposure had him on edge to the point where he wasn’t thinking clearly. Not that you had much time to think for yourself, as the immediate quick pace he set did well to clear any consideration for his behavior as his hips knocked into your ass with bruising force. You’re trying your best to keep quiet, but the few muffled moans that snuck out from behind your hand were enough to have one of those large hands grab the back of your neck much like a kitten would be grabbed for corrective actions.

“Keep quiet,” he hisses in your ear, his voice low and warning of impending danger. “Don’t want anyone finding us, do we?”

You can only shake your head, earning a “good girl” growled into your ear that has your knees weaker than they already were and him chuckling at the desperate whimper you let out when his hand moves from your hip to play with your clit. 

“Come for me like the little slut you are, and I’ll fill you like you want so badly.”

You don’t fully remember how you got home. You’d basically blacked out after the second round in the alley, returned to coherency as your back hit your mattress with Yuuji easily climbing onto you while removing the rest of his clothes. It was everything you wanted, what you were convinced you needed, so you’d never complain when he bit down hard enough to break skin or dug his fingernails in deep enough to draw blood - you’d never complain when Yuuji let himself go. It was nice that he trusted you enough to allow himself to relax with you. 

You didn’t really appreciate how mean he could get sometimes, but he was always so sweet to you outside of sex that you supposed it could be forgiven. People said things they didn’t totally mean when they got lost in the moment, perhaps it was just that? You wouldn’t want to make him feel bad, which you knew would happen should it get mentioned, so you were just going to leave it alone until he said something truly hurtful. No harm, no foul - right? 

“Hey, pretty girl.” Yuuji murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep and his hand carefully rubbing your side.

“Hi Yuuji,” you whisper, catching his hand to hold in your own and bringing it to rest against your chest. He was warmer than he had been the night before, more cuddly and like his normal self. What had happened last night? “Doin’ okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. You okay?”

“Yeah. Little sore but that’s normal after a night with you.” 

“Want me to kiss it better?”

“No, you’re good, but can we lay here for a minute?” You feel small asking him something like that despite him being in your bed in your house. Maybe it was how cold he seemed last night before getting you into bed for another round, or that dark glint in his eye that you know you saw when you looked back at him in the alley. But he tells you that he wants to be with you for as long as he can, adjusts how you laid in his arms and presses his forehead into your neck and you’re feeling that warmth again that makes you feel the opposite of small. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I just feel bad that you’re hurting because of me. I honestly feel like I blacked out during it,” he mumbles into your shoulder, gently peppering your skin with kisses. “Like I was there, but watching and not actually doing. It was good though?”

“It was great and you’ve got nothing to feel bad about, but let’s not make a habit out of fucking in alleyways.”

“But it was hot, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you murmur into your pillow, truly content to simply lie there with his warmth at your back. Any uneasiness you’d had about his behavior from the night before has dissipated, the sweetness emanating from him doing a great job of eliminating any bad feelings about him. 

“It’s really nice having you back.” He comments after a moment of quiet, something that had you humming softly as you considered that. It was nice to see him, but you’d hoped for more for both of you. More than this small town and living in the houses your grandparents bought. Bartending while trying to find something better that actually used the degree you worked so hard for while he ran a flower shop - you always thought that the two of you would leave and never come back. Maybe find each other again, but not here. 

“Still not sure if I share that sentiment, Yuuji,” you whisper, giving his arm a gentle squeeze as you feel him kiss your neck. His lips linger, and you can feel his breath against your skin as he waits for you to continue your thought. “I feel so small here, y’know? Like, I felt small out there too but it wasn’t suffocating like it can be when you’re here.”

“No, I get it. Out there you can do anything, be anyone. Here you’re just the same kid you always were, and you don’t really get to grow up until the people who made you a child leave in some way or another.”

He absolutely understands, and it’s relieving to have somebody else who knew what you were feeling about being back in your hometown. Like you; Yuuji had also gotten out and explored, went to university and had a life that wasn’t this small town. 

And just like you, he’d been sucked back in. 

He never talked about the true reason, just said his grandpa needed him and then he stayed. Too much here that he’d inherited that needed to be managed, like the flower shop, and he couldn’t leave it all or else that would be disgracing his grandpa’s last wishes. That was how he always was, though. Self sacrificing until the end. 

You’d heard from some mutual friends who went to the same school as him that Yuuji had gotten really sick, knocked out of commission for at least a week and then he disappeared for a while. It was only when he’d posted on social media about his grandfather’s passing that anybody knew where he really was. But he wouldn’t talk about it, and any questioning of what happened just had him shrugging it off as being unimportant. He was fine now, that was what mattered.

But maybe he wasn’t fine? You can’t help but think back to the way his mood shifted so quickly last night; how the man who laid in your bed until he had to go open his shop was a completely different person than the man who fucked you in an alley. Something had clearly happened, and you’re afraid to ask him just what it was that he was trying to hide from you. 

The church is quiet when you enter. One of the older women your grandmother had been friends with was leaving as you were heading up the front steps, stopping to tell you how nice it was to see you back at the church and in town again, then leaving you with a kiss on your cheek and a promise to pray for you. Typical for that generation of women in town, and you dreaded the day your mother and her circle evolved into touchy old ladies who were very open about their opinions of the younger ones. 

You hoped you missed that part of becoming an old lady. 

Your grateful that the church is empty, glad that there is nobody around to witness you entering a confessional booth for the first time in years. Grateful that you would only have an audience of one (spiritually two?) on this afternoon. 

Two knocks are placed against the wood surface of the door, the wood a new, darker version of what once had stood there and missing the various dents and scratch marks from decades of use. Even the seat in the booth had been replaced, the aging cracked bench replaced with a cushion should you want to sit rather than kneel. 

You choose to kneel, performing the sign of the cross as you take a deep breath to settle your nerves. 

“Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been…” fuck, how long had it been since you last confessed? Your freshman year of college and maybe just a month or so in? “A few years, I guess, since my last confession.”

“May I ask why?”

“I confessed once in college, tried to involve myself with the church groups on campus but they were rather radical. Their beliefs didn’t align with what I had been taught, and the priest at the chapel by the school did not feel welcoming to me.”

He hums, and you think you see him nod through the divider in the window that separated your side of the confessional from his. 

“Anyway, I’d like to confess that I have not been actively attending church over the past few years, and have been committing many sinful acts.”

And you tell him everything you could recall, every detail that weighed heavy on your shoulders since returning back to this small town. How you spent more time with a bottle in your hand than a bible, how you let yourself fall victim to many temptations - the biggest ones being lust, gluttony, and sloth. How you partied heavily, often found yourself waking up next to strangers and knew you’d had sex with them. How you didn’t care, and wanted to continue having premarital sex because you enjoyed it. 

You even tell him about Yuuji. You weren’t planning on it, but the words tumble out of your mouth without any true restraint. 

“You’re close with your friend?”

“He’s the only person who gets me,” you reply, looking up from your hands with hope that you’d get to see Father Kento’s face as he listened to you. “I don’t think I’d ever be able to resist temptation when it’s related to him. Even last night, he wanted to do something different and as risky as it was I went with it. Because it was him, y’know?”

“Tell me about it, please.” That…he wasn’t asking for details of your sex life with Yuuji. There was no was a priest would desire details like that. It’s an absurd request. “The only way I can truly absolve you is to know what the true temptation is. Please, let me help you.”

He must have noticed the way you paused. You should have left, you know that you should leave and tell your parents that this new priest was weird and they should stop going to this church. A ton of churches streamed their sermons online, they could do that instead. You could avoid confessionals all together, and get away from this man. 

Those are all things you should have done. 

Instead you confess your latest sin: having sex in an alleyway with Yuuji. And Father Kento wanted details, so you spare none; telling him everything about the event that you could recall while trying to ignore the sound of his increasingly labored breaths that followed the rustling of some of his clothes on the other side of the divider. 

You tell him about how rough Yuuji had been, how much you enjoyed it despite it being a little scary. How he carried you home after giving you a couple of the most mind blowing orgasms and filling you with his cum, only to peel your clothes off in your bedroom for a softer yet still cold second round. 

But you can’t ignore your suspicions about what is happening on the other side of the confessional booth. 

“…Father?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Preparing to give you absolution, little lamb.” Absolution didn’t come with a belt buckle being undone, last you checked. “Do you have any more sins to confess?”

“No, but I fear for sins I may commit later.”

“I’ll protect you from them.” He sounds so certain despite the strain in his voice. Your eyes strain to get a better view of how he was preparing your absolution, but you know penance must come first. “God has spoken to me. He has shown me just how important you are, entrusted me with your road to the heavens.”

You’re not sure how much of this you can believe, but you’re too enamored by the thought of performing such a less act with a priest in the confessional booth to care. This was more than just a scandal, this was excommunication in progress should you be caught in the act. More than that, you’d both likely be banished from the town for this.

But worst of all - you were so turned on it was almost painful to be robbed of the sight of the attractive priest.

Was he big? He had to be, considering the size of the man himself. But was he bigger than Yuuji? Thicker? Was it possible he had any experience despite the vow of celibacy you knew priests had to take? There were so many questions bouncing around in your head that you couldn’t focus on just one, but you’re relieved that you don’t have to when he starts talking again. 

“Your penance, little lamb, is to abstain from those sins. Abstain and pray to our Father God that he may see your willingness to walk the path of his light.”

“Thank you, Father,” you whisper, watching as the light is blocked out by his imposing frame as he stands. His hand is moving at a quick pace, and you can see much better when he moves the wooden screen that was providing minimal anonymity for your confessional. 

“Pray the Act of Contrition for me, and I will give you your absolution.”

You’re practically leaning through the window, wanting to be closer to him and his already weeping cock as you whisper, “Oh, my God.”

How were you supposed to pray a promise to abstain from sinful acts when you got to see a cock like that? Even in the dim lighting you could see it perfectly, looking proud as his hand glided along it to further simulate. Just a taste of that red flushed head would likely have you reeling with all efforts towards this confession wasted. Did you need God’s plan when Father Kento’s cock was practically in your face?

“Continue your prayer.” 

“I am heartily sorry for having offended thee, and I detest all of my sins because of thy punishments,” you continue, but your heart is not in the prayer because now the priest is fucking into his fist and you can’t help but wish it was your mouth he was fucking into. You’d pray your heart out if it meant that you’d be rewarded with a taste of him. “But most of all, because they offend their, my god, who are deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen.”

“Amen,” he echoes, and your mouth falls open when the most sultry of groans leaves him. He had to be beautiful when he was about to cum, you’re sure his cheeks flushed and his lips parted so he could breathe properly. “Are you ready to be cleansed of your sins that you came to confess today?”

“Yes, Father, as long as you deem me worthy.” You aren’t expecting him to lower himself to your level, but you’re pleased to see his face in front of yours. He truly was very handsome, and you smile when he leans in to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. To feel such intimacy with a supposed holy man who you’d only spoken to once before your confession felt absurd, but there was something very different about Father Kento. It was like he saw right through you, you were sure he did, and you weren’t complaining about it. 

“God will always find you worthy,” he breathes, using his thumb to gently coax your mouth open. His thumb presses against your tongue, and you feel only slightly self conscious when you feel like he’s scrutinizing something before he requests that you leave your mouth open before he stands again and leaves you to watch with an open mouth as he pumps his cock to completion and allow the ropes of warm cum to hit your face and tongue. 

You’re swallowing what had come into your mouth when he kneels before you again, this time his hand coming to rest atop your head as he cracks the faintest of smiles at you. 

“When you feel temptation, little one, you come to me. My job is to help you fight the temptation and resist evil.”

“But don’t you have to maintain celibacy?” You supposed that was probably a stupid question, considering what had just happened and the evidence of the event that was still splattered across your face. But it was still a valid question, considering he was a priest and everything you knew about the priesthood went against the last twenty minutes you’d shared with him in this confessional booth. 

“Sweet lamb, this is not an act of pleasure. It is an act of God.” 

“Of course,” you murmur, closing your eyes as he brings the handkerchief he’d pulled from his pocket to carefully wipe his cum from your face. “He’s entrusted you with his plan.”

“He has, and I intend to ensure that you’re protected as he’s requested of me.” He was an interesting priest, that was for sure, but his brand of protection was something you’d happily indulge in. He would allow himself to become your temptation, which might have defeated the purpose, but maybe the intimacy of a holy man was different than anybody else? You’re not sure, and you don’t think to ask the question aloud out of fear that he’d think it was a stupid question - you’d asked enough of those today.

“May I ask you something, lamb?”

“Anything, Father.”

“Do you know anything about something called Sukuna?” 

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

I'm asking for a big favor.

My life is a waste! Everyone knows it. I'm not smart. I'm not good-looking. I have no friends. And, the only girls that look at me are the ones trying to look past my fat-ass body to see whatever I'm blocking. I'm a senior in high school with no future.

My dad will want me to go to community college. He'd even pay for it and support me to eventually going to an actual university. But, he just doesn't understand I'm a lost cause. I've started thinking my youth would be better suited to someone else. Someone who wouldn't waste the opportunities youth can bring.

Then I began to think ... no one is a better candidate than my dad. He had me in his mid 20's. My mom died soon after I was born. Being a single dad, his only focus was to raise me. Any dreams he had for himself were buried with my mother.

But, I guess I let them both down. My dad is the opposite of me. Now, in his 40s, his body is still strong. He has some pudge from age. He is smart and charming. If he'd get a do over, he'd make the most of it. Sometimes, he'd talk about plans he'd have but then shuts up. I guess he doesn't want to make me feel worse considering the bullying at school. The worst part is how much he actually wants the best for me. But I can't do anything right.

I hope this is not too hard. My dad already has all the good traits. The only main thing I want swapped is our ages. And, maybe a reality swap. I'd be his dad. I'd support him financially somehow. I'll drive him to his football games. And, then to college. He'd vist me, and I'll see how good his life turned out. And, eventually, when he is ready again ... I'll see his new ... hopefully better children. My grandchildren.

That seems easy enough. You want your dad to notice his glory days. And while you said he had you in his 20s why not restart the clock right then?

It’s a week before you are going to college and it’s already seemed like it’s been so long since you made this wish. You’re about to turn 19 and you even forget that you made this wish before until your father gives you a hug as you’re packing your bags getting for college. A weird electric shock goes through both of younger you touch. It was odd. Before you know you’re both saying goodbye and you get in the car and head off going to hang out with some friends for the night.

That night you feel ill. Every part of your body aches and your sweating. Ignoring that your father has messaged you asking if you’re feeling alright because he himself is feeling bad too. You taken a few shots and hope that is makes the feeling go away but it doesn’t do anything to make the feeling go away.

The next day you get up and you’re not feeling any better. If anything you are feeling worse. Granted you did drink enough to paralyze a horse last night. You go home and your dad is waiting there but he looks different. He looks…younger…he stops and looks at you. And just says “how’re you feeling bud..”. Fine fine your tell him. And he I just follows you around like sick puppy. Finally you snap demanding to know what it is. And finally he says. “Look in the mirror…I don’t know what’s happening but I started feeling sick last night and I woke up feeling great ! And I have a feeling…you feel bad. And I don’t think it’s because of the alcohol…”

You look in the mirror and you’re shocked. Staring back you is the reflection of someone who is definitely not about to turn 19. It’s more of a reflection of someone who is about to turn 29! A thick mustache rested over your lip. You could see shoulder hair creep long over your back and a thick mat of a chest hair forming. Wrinkles were staring to form at the edges of your eyes.

“What’s happening to me!!” You demand to know but your dad is quiet. You demand to know but he tells you he doesn’t know. But isn’t possible that he looks even younger now that he did when you first got home!! What the hell was going on!! It was like you two were swapping ag….and then it hit you….”oh no…no no no!!!!” And then you admitted to your father. How you made that wish a long time ago. That you felt like a failure and wished for him to be able to live out his youth and you wished to swap your ages. He was so supportive. But it was so odd. Coming from a man that looked younger than you now. “So what do we do?” He asked. You didn’t know yet. You really didn’t know what to think about the whole thing. You being forced to become older and he younger. A permanent age swap !

Your clothes quickly stopped fitting as your father’s clothes became a better fit. Even his shoes. It only made sense for you to retire to each others bedrooms at night. You even developed his habits without wanting to. Smoking. Drinking a 6 pack of beer during the day. By the end of the week you were no longer hesitant on the swap. You were living it to the max. You had become hairier and older. Aging to 43 and balding and even deviling a slight beer belly. You were the dad and treating your new son as he needed to be treated.

The difference was that you knew your son was going to have some confidence issues so you had to make sure that you being the alpha of the family were going to keep him in line. When you dropped your son off at college you took him to the wrestling coach and made him sign up for the team. He was going to be an all star. He needed to live out your dreams after all. He had some big shoes to fill and you were going to sure he filled them and he worked hard to do it.

[fafnir19]

Desire upon the sea

It all started with a stroke of unbelievable luck. I, Lennart, a carefree 20-year-old student with a penchant for casual attire, had won a first-class voyage on an exquisite cruise ship. The grand prize seemed tailor-made for an older, more refined audience, a fact only accentuated by the conspicuously elegant attires the other passengers flaunted. As I stepped onto the luxurious cruise ship, I couldn't help but notice the elegant attire of the other passengers. It seemed like everyone had walked straight out of a black-tie event, while I was just a casual bloke in my everyday clothes.

Still, I brushed it off and decided to make a joke out of it, because that's just the kind of guy I am. I spent my days wandering around the ship, enjoying the sights and sounds, until one evening, I heard peculiar noises trailing behind me. As I turned to investigate, a strange figure materialized from the shadows. It was a goblin, of all things, with a sneer etched onto its wrinkly face.

"What's your problem, buddy?" I said, half-amused. "You're the problem!" the goblin retorted, pointing a gnarled finger at me. "You're ruining the ship's reputation with your scruffy appearance and lack of grooming. Clean up your act, lad!" I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation before bidding the goblin goodnight and heading to bed. Little did I know that the night held a surprise for me. The following morning, I shuffled groggily to the bathroom, only to realize I'd been blessed with a new haircut—a perfectly styled 'do that I hadn't asked for. Confused and a tad worried, I heard the goblin's cackling echoing in the room. I looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen, leaving me to exclaim, "If I can get my hands on that little troublemaker!"

The day took an even stranger turn when I found myself at the spa, enjoying a massage from a petite, skilled masseuse. As her hands worked their magic, I felt an odd sensation spreading through my body, like I was being tugged and twisted in ways unimaginable. I winced in discomfort and pleaded with the masseuse to stop, but all I heard was the goblin's laughter. And when I looked in the mirror, a shock awaited me. My unkempt form had vanished, replaced by the silhouette of a young Greek god—toned muscles, blond hair, and piercing blue eyes. It was as if I'd stepped out of a marble statue, and with a mixture of bewilderment and annoyance, I muttered, "What in the goblin's name is happening to me?"

Determined to escape this madness, I embarked on a shore excursion, hoping for some respite. However, upon my return, I found my clothes gone, replaced by a sleek suit and accessories—courtesy of the goblin's mischievous handiwork. From that moment onwards, it seemed the goblin held the reins to my desires and appearance, turning me into an impeccably groomed, preppy youth. As the days went by, I longed to break free from this bizarre spell, but the ship was already bound for a week-long journey across the Atlantic, leaving me at the goblin's whims.

As I sauntered across the deck, trying to make sense of my inexplicable transformation, a sleek sports boat docked at the cruise ship. A suave, sophisticated businessman disembarked and strode towards the pool deck, exuding an air of confidence and allure.

My gaze inadvertently intersected with his, and it was then that I discerned a disquieting fascination glinting within his eyes. Despite my efforts to elude the intrusive weight of his lingering stare, the sensation of being undressed by his gaze trapped me in a discomfiting nexus of unease. Seeking to extricate myself from this distressing conundrum, I made a hasty retreat to my cabin.

A futile hope, as it turned out, when I found him seated at my table during dinner.

"Good evening," he greeted me with a captivating smile. "I'm Pierson. I couldn't help but notice our paths have crossed numerous times on this ship." I swallowed nervously, feeling the weight of his gaze, and managed a polite response. "Lennart," I said, trying to keep my cool. "Yes, indeed. It's quite the coincidence." Pierson leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Coincidence, you say? Or is it fate that led us to each other?" His words, dripping with a hint of flirtation, left me flustered. "I-I'm not sure what you mean," I stumbled, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. As the dinner progressed, Pierson's attention remained fixed on me, his subtle innuendos fluttering around the air like mischievous butterflies. Being straight, I felt a wave of discomfort and couldn't help but squirt under the weight of his suggestive remarks.

Night descended upon the ship, and soon I found myself in a tormented state of slumber, plagued by the most bewildering dreams. Dreams of Pierson, his intoxicating eyes, and the touch of his lips upon mine. It was a series of vivid and erotic dreams. When I woke up the next morning I realized that the dreams were not only intense but also wet dreams. The following day, I attempted to evade Pierson, hoping to dispel the lingering echoes of those perplexing dreams. However, the next night I had the same dreams again.

One sunny morning, as I lounged by the pool, attempting to find solace in the ocean breeze, I spotted Pierson striding past. His eyes met mine, and a faint but unmistakable smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Suddenly, an unexpected sensation sent a shiver down my spine—a telltale sign of arousal. I shifted uncomfortably, desperately hoping to conceal my hard-on.

Later, as we convened for dinner, I found myself battling with an unfamiliar, unwelcome sensation. My cock twitched by the  mere sight of Pierson.

Flustered and at a loss, I hastily excused myself, feigning an excuse to retire early. Alone on the deck, I let the cool ocean breeze wash over me, attempting to clear my mind from the bewildering entanglements stirring within. Before I could process my thoughts, I felt a presence behind me. A familiar one. Pierson's arm wrapped around my shoulders, and he leaned in, planting a tender, albeit unexpected, kiss upon my lips. For a brief moment, I flinched, but then something within me surrendered to the moment, allowing it to unfold. The night swiftly turned into a whirlwind of passion, eventually leading us to Pierson's suite, where our mysterious liaison reached its climax. The morning light revealed a revelation—a revelation that struck with the laughter of the irksome goblin.

A voice, singing, "That's how I like you, sweet gay Lennart!" I protested, adamantly refuting the label, but the goblin's words reverberated in the chamber. "I planted gay dreams in your head, and you made them happen. You've sealed your fate, lad. Embrace it." Before I could offer a rebuttal, Pierson reappeared, casting a suggestive glance my way, proposing an amorous shower together. In a moment of bewildered impulse, I accepted, and it marked a peculiar turn of events for me. In the days that followed, Pierson bid farewell to the ship, leaving behind a bewildered, conflicted Lennart, lost in the peculiar conundrum of his newfound reality. Days passed, each rolling into the next, veiling me in my own introspection until an unexpected surprise awaited me one fine morning. There, upon my bed, lay a pristine steward uniform, intricately folded, bearing the goblin's crimson laughter. He explained, "Pierson was pleased with your service. As a reward, you're destined to don this uniform and live out your gay fantasies amidst the opulent corridors of this ship." And so, clad in the uniform, I embarked on a whimsical journey, serving the passengers with impeccable grace, while navigating the bewitching intricacies of my newfound desires. Is this my fate—a twist of magic and mishaps, or perhaps an unforeseen realm of revelation that awaits amidst the billowing seas? Only time would reveal the enigmatic path that lay ahead.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 20: reading together

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Reblog if you liked it!

“If I didn't love you so much, I'd probably be strangling you right now,” you muttered, watching from your spot on the couch as Spencer broke the spine of the book he had just gotten.

Although you two were very skilled readers, which had brought you together in the first place, your book care habits were very different. You could stand him writing in the books and bending the pages, but the first time you saw the man break the spine of a book you almost screamed to stop him. You were the type who opened the pages only as much as necessary, loaded them into a special bag, and used only post-its and pretty bookmarkers in them.

“I already told you that this is more comfortable and gives life to the books”

“It doesn't give them life, it kills them” you sobbed dramatically, while you raised your feet a little so that he could take a seat on the couch and once he was, he took care of placing your legs on his lap “What is this one about?”

"Physics. I want some distraction”

“Oh, sure,” you laughed ironically, as if it were common to read physics books to clear your mind.

You had been reading, for a couple of weeks, The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks, because the movie was one of your favorites in your youth and you wanted to know how much the book delved into the story of both lovers.

You were used to these kinds of moments with him, because since you had started living together your literary discipline had improved, so you tried to continue with your reading while he started his.

Everything was fine until you tensed when you felt his hand coming down from the cover to hold your leg firmly. You looked down from your book and a shiver ran through you when you noticed that he was able to hold all the flesh of your limb with those hands; big, calloused, and warm, always so expert at touching you just the way you wanted. But Spencer was so focused on the book that he didn't seem aware of what he was doing to you, not even when he started to slowly stroke you with his thumb.

You tried to shake the distraction from your mind and focused on the printed lines, the only sound being the turning of the paper pages in your lover's book. Spencer's fingers traced patterns and drummed on your skin, to the point where you got used to it and stopped paying attention to the tickling he was doing with it.

“What happened to you here?” Spencer asked suddenly, feeling interrupted by curiosity to know the origin of the bump his fingers had touched. You closed your book slightly and looked up to see what he was talking about.

"That? I think it was from a fall when I was little.”

“Sometimes I'm surprised to think how many things I still don't know about you,” he murmured, with unexpected sentimentality. His hand went up and down your leg while he maintained a thoughtful attitude “You are like a book; I think I know you well enough and when I look at you again you have a different meaning or I find something new about you”

“At least I hope you don't break my spine” you laughed and you heard him laugh too. You readjusted yourself on the couch until you were sitting next to him and you placed a kiss on his cheek, so he took the opportunity to surround you from the side “No one had ever compared me to a book.”

“I like being innovative,” he said, quite proud of himself, feeling how you fit better against him.

Once again one of his hands remained busy on your body and with the other he kept the book open, taking a little more time than usual to turn the pages. You carefully opened your reading and continued to enjoy the tragic romance the story told, having your own happy romance at your side.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger

[chaseadrian]

red light at the bowling alley

You graduated high school, Eddie didn't. Twice. After spending all four years in Hellfire with him, adulthood got the best of you, and the friendship faded over the following two years. Wracked with guilt and missing your friend, you finally spot his van late one night, and you’re determined to win him back.

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader tags: 18+ ONLY, explicit, old friends to strangers to lovers, cheesiness, groveling, degradation, giving & receiving oral, fingering, dom!eddie, light angst, unprotected sex, van sex, semi-public, light choking, fluffy aftercare word count: 6.4k+ a/n: this was supposed to just be a drabble request but i got extremely carried away. uhh this is my first time writing eddie so thoughts and feedback would be appreciate, as always. 

Hawkins wasn't a big town. It wasn't the sister-slapping, willfully-ignorant, our-population-trends-downward hick towns that you could find in Indiana, but you were wont to find someone you knew just about every time you went out. So, when you saw the battered, dark van of Eddie Munson in the middle of the Hawkins Lanes parking lot, it wasn’t a surprise. 

Eddie Munson, with the dreamiest dark eyes you’d ever seen, and hair that you’d watched grow all throughout high school. Even in the awkward phases you’d imagined combing your fingers through it, working out the knots, telling him “it’s not that bad” when he cracked up at himself in the mirror. As long as you’d known him, you hadn’t seen anyone come close to touching that hair. 

Of course, when you were sat hunched around a wobbling table—Eddie’s eyes shifting over yours as he scanned the party—girlfriends and boyfriends and the world at large, they weren’t the hot button topic. All four years of high school you sat at that table every other Friday, saw countless deaths, mourned several characters, and then you walked across the stage and suddenly you were an adult. Suddenly money and college and the future took precedence over those nights with Eddie and the parties that had come and gone and come back again. 

It was a high school club, after all, and you made it out. 

The same couldn’t be said for Eddie, who was a repeat senior, who found himself on the same playing field as the sophomores you recruited into the club. You’d heard the whispers, the slander and libel over a tabletop game, the cult conspiracy. Eddie the troublemaker, the ringleader, the host. Why else would a 20-year old stay in high school for so long if not to corrupt America’s youth? There was no way he was just…bad at math, right? 

You’d never believed it, and after all was said and done, after the pitchforks were dulled and the fires snuffed out, you were relieved to have been right. 

Eddie played hard into the “freak” moniker, and maybe he was somewhere under that smile, but he was also the Eddie that sought out lonely high school kids. The ones who would break under the pressure, not bend to it. 

The ones like you.

Your car sat idle across the street, eyes fixed on Eddie’s van in the rearview mirror. Several moments passed before you could get out of the car, before you’d decided to yourself that it wasn’t weird to go up to his van. Wasn’t weird at all and, if he asked, you were just checking up on an old friend. An old friend who you’d seen around town several times and looked away. An old friend who was becoming more of a stranger every time you couldn’t meet his gaze. 

You’d chickened out of a moment like this many times before, but tonight there was something in you that was tired of turning the other way. Tired of feeling guilty for not reaching out, because maybe Hellfire was in your past. Maybe it was something you’d never get back, but, turning on your heels with your hands shaking at your sides, you hoped the same couldn’t be said for Eddie. 

Hustling across the street, you slowed your pace as you approached the van, fists balling up the fabric of your dress. Eddie was never intimidating, not as long as you’d known him, but right now you were on the verge of a heart attack. The muffled music from the van beat in time with your chest, and from the side view mirror you could see the distinct mass of Eddie’s hair shaking around. 

The sight melted the tension in your muscles, reminded you of all the nights he’d driven you home with Dio blaring, the van swerving on the empty roads as he head banged. 

Except, it wasn’t metal that you heard as you got closer to the half open window. It was…

“Peter Gabriel, huh?” 

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie jumped, smashing his fingers into the radio to turn it off. He rolled the window up the rest of the way. 

You knocked on the glass, “Eddie, come on, it’s me. Open up.” 

“No!” He sat facing straight, his hands hanging over the top of his steering wheel, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. 

“It’s a good song! Sledgehammers are metal, right? It counts!” 

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, eyes flicking toward you for a second before he started tapping his thumbs on the rubber. Eddie was never one to feel embarrassed. He knew what everyone thought when they looked at him, even after the witch hunt over spring break. It didn’t change him, and you doubted the tense moment now was just because you caught him vibing with something that wasn’t his typical taste. 

You thought back to headbanging in the car, how you just sat there, laughing at him without headbanging yourself. How you stayed out of the mosh pits while Eddie threw himself right into the fire. When Eddie jumped on the lunch tables, you ducked your head down. You were fine being a groupie all those years in the garage, but you weren’t his friend anymore, and blending in wasn’t gonna convince him to roll down the window. 

Tapping your foot on the pavement, you closed your eyes and shook your head.

“I wanna be…your sledgehammer Why don't you call my name?”

You cringed at the echo of your voice in the night air, but Eddie tilted his head as he turned to look at you, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. 

“Ah! Oh, let me be your sledgehammer. This will be my testimony, Yeahhh.” 

You tapped your hands on your sides, getting a little more into the moment, refusing to open your eyes. As far as you knew, the parking lot was barren except for you and Eddie and you’d rather keep it that way. 

Eddie’s voice surprised you as he filled in the final “Yeah!” of the chorus, and you opened one eye to peek at him, the window fully down and an amused smile on his lips.

“Alright, alright hop in.” He crouched out of view, and you hurried to the other side of the van as he opened the sliding door, taking the hand he offered to climb up. You stepped between empty beer cans, and Eddie’s hand came sweeping after you to push them away. “Sorry.” 

He hopped up after you, shutting the door and leaning into the driver’s seat to close the window again. 

“No, no apologies necessary.” You sat on the orange shag carpet, ripped from the dumpster of Hawkins Furniture Supply and cut to fit the cold metal floor of the van. The neon red sign of the bowling alley flooded the van through the passenger window, carving Eddie’s features out of the dark, the warm brown of his eyes reflecting the harsh light. If there was ever a time that he was intimidating, it was now, in this light, even as he looked up at you through his lashes, hands fiddling with his rings. 

He nodded slowly at the words, biting down on his bottom lip, a half smile crossing his face before he finally spoke, “You know, yeah, you’re right.” He clasped his hands together in a tight squeeze, an incredulous laugh falling from his lips just as his head did, shaking in disbelief. 

Each word was drawn out like nails on a chalkboard, “Why would I apologize to you?” He snapped back up to look at you, “Of alllll people, why you?” 

You snaked your fingers through the shag carpet and started combing the fabric, knees tucked up towards your chest, “You shouldn’t. I should be the one—that’s actually why I came up to the van, to, uh, to apologize.” 

He tilted his head, inviting you to continue. 

“I was a bad friend, a really, really shitty one, I know. I just got caught up in the—the—” 

“The mob? The crowd?” He raised his voice, wiggling his fingers in the air as he spoke, eyes squeezing shut for a moment, “The uh, rabble…with their pretty fire and sharp pitchforks, ready to burn me at the stake?” 

“No! No, I never bought into that! You know I wouldn’t, Eddie, come on.” 

He cocked his head up at you, squinting, “I can believe that, but you sure as shit didn’t do anything to help!” Throwing his hands up, he let himself fall against the wall of the van, looking away from you with a deep breath. 

“I know! I regret it every day of my fucking life, every time I see this van speeding around the corner it’s both a relief and a reminder. You’re still here and you, somehow, didn’t fall to the batshit purist mentality in this town but then I’m reminded that—that you are still here, and I just let you fall to the wayside. Let our—our—our friendship just fade and fade and fade to the point that if you did wind up fucking dead or in prison, it wouldn’t have made sense for me to go to the funeral. Or—or to visit, you know?” 

Eddie frowned, nodding with wide eyes that bore into the carpet, “Good thing I didn’t fucking die, right? Wouldn’t want that on your conscience!” 

“No! Fuck, Eddie—I’m, fuck I’m not…saying it right. Even before all the—the...” You smoothed your dress over your knees, staring at the pleated fabric, “Before everything, after that first summer, I wished I had stuck around. The town never changed, I think it actively gets worse every year but you—” 

Eddie looked up at you, features softening for the first time, that bright red light glistening off his watering eyes. He wouldn’t cry. 

“You made this place bearable, you were the only thing—”

“Thing?” He smiled.

“Person, sorry, person. You were the only person who made staying in this town worth it, only, I got lost in the job and the responsibilities and you know my parents, they—”

“Ohh, I know.” 

You nodded, keeping your eyes on your knees, “It sounds like a lot of excuses, but I just wanted you to know it hasn’t been easy, for me, and—and even harder without you. I know that part at least is my fault but I’m…I’m trying to fix it.” You started balling up the fabric of your dress again, sitting in the silence, feeling Eddie’s eyes on you. 

“And I don’t—I don’t know how you escaped the fucking evil in this town, but I’m so relieved you did. I’m so relieved but I’m also so sorry and so angry at myself that I wasn’t right there with you. I should’ve been and—” 

Eddie started laughing, and he pushed off the side of the van, crouching on his toes in front of you, “No, you shouldn’t have. Trust me.” 

You sighed, rubbing your palms over your knees, “I wish I had done something.” 

The silence sat, thick and heavy and you were a second away from apologizing for the interruption, a second away from just leaving the van. The silence would be answer enough, and you could at least say you tried, but that Eddie and your friendship were just lost to time. Lost to the burden of the future and the verging paths of your life. 

And then he spoke, and you crawled out from under your thoughts. 

“Look,” He put his hand over yours, stilling you, “For all the shit I’m giving you, there was uh, there wasn’t much you could’ve done. Hawkins and their bullshit moral superiority…” 

Eddie shook his head, chuckling to himself, “I’ll tell you about it someday…” 

You met his gaze, and he gave you a wink, “When you can handle it.” 

“When I—you think I couldn’t handle it?” You smiled, and he patted your hands. 

“Careful, there. I can joke around, you…tch—tch—tch” He wagged his finger and chuffed at you, but he hadn’t made an effort to distance himself yet. 

“That’s…that’s fair. But, you forgive me?” 

“Mmm…” He reached forward and pinched at your cheek, “You’re on thin ice.” 

You smiled, batting his hand away, “I can deal with that.” 

He cocked his head back, pulling his lips into a surprised smile and kneeling in front of you, towering over your curled-in figure, “Oh? No groveling? You’re not even gonna try flattering your way off the ice?” 

Looking up at him, your breath caught in your throat. The light cascaded over his features, and you couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just the red making his smile so sinister. His hands were stuck in his back pockets, pushing his torso towards you. 

You swallowed and rolled your eyes, forcing a laugh, “What, you want me to bow to you?” 

Eddie shrugged. 

Tucking your knees under yourself, you made a show of raising your hands in praise, fingertips grazing Eddie as you bowed down, “Please, O Eddie the Banished, forgive me my trespasses.” 

As you came up for the third time, Eddie snatched one of your wrists and wrenched you up on your knees to match him. 

“I thought I said only I could joke around.” 

His eyes followed his fingers as they grazed down your arm, calloused fingertips gliding over your goosebumps. His other hand slipped against your thigh, slowly lifting the skirt of your dress, “Didn’t I say that?”

You nodded, frozen in place. 

He stopped and brought his fingers to your chin, tilting your face up, “Didn’t I say that?” His voice was lower now, gaze fixed on you.

“Yes, yeah, you…you did.” 

“That’s what I thought.” He rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip, smiling when you grabbed onto the edge of his jacket to steady yourself, “You know…” 

Eddie paused, the fingers on your skirt now just touching your bare leg. 

You tilted your head up more, leaning into the grip of his fingers on your chin, chest falling with stuttered breaths, body shivering in front of him. 

“I still think about that pretty face. Late at night, alone in my room…” He traced a finger along your hairline, down your cheekbone, “with my hand around my cock.” 

You let out a heavy breath, closing your eyes as Eddie took your hand and placed it square on his torso, your fingers gripping the fabric. 

He brought his lips to your ear, whispering, “You go as far as you want with that hand, okay, sweets?” 

Gripping tighter to his ratty tee, you shivered with his breath against your neck, “Say the word and this never happened. We just go back to being friends, understood?” 

You nodded, and Eddie brought his lips closer, “Understood?” 

“U—understood.” 

It took a moment of sitting in the tense silence before you’d gathered the courage to let go of his shirt, to slide your hand down over the cold metal buckle of his jeans, onto the rough denim bulge of his crotch. You felt him smile against your ear, a sharp gasp escaping your throat when he pressed a brief kiss to the skin. 

“Good girl. Don’t be afraid, now.” 

He kept one hand to himself, the other still resting on your outer thigh, pressing indents into your skin with his hands. His grip was all encompassing; it stilled the nerves you’d been fighting off, steadied your mind, encouraged the movement of your hand. 

It wasn’t the touch of a friend. 

You brought both hands to his waist, unbuckling his jeans and wrenching free his cock with an unbridled want that’d laid dormant for longer than you should’ve been able to take. Your right hand gripped the base of him, left hand sliding under his shirt to feel the pallid skin he kept hidden under layers and layers of “fuck you” to the sweater vests and polos of Hawkins. 

There was the faintest trace of muscle definition along his ribs as you grazed your hand up his side, pinching the skin, nails hooked into his back. You stroked slowly along his cock, hand gliding around his shaft, thumb running over his tip. He was half-up when you’d felt the bulge behind his jeans, but with every passing second that you worked him, the loose skin constricted until he was twitching and holding back moans. 

You knelt down in front of him—hunched forward so your lips were at the tip of his cock—and licked over the red skin. His salty precum mixed with your saliva, and you slicked up his dick with the viscous mixture, taking most of him into your mouth to do so. 

“Sh—shit.” He let his head fall back, hands flying to the sides of your head to keep you there, fingers gathering the hair into a messy ponytail. 

Licking stripes over his cock, you let your hand slide around his torso, fingernails scraping at the skin. 

When you took him in your mouth again, you felt a hand leave your hair, and heard the distinct thud of the van’s roof. Eddie steadied himself with his palm flat on the cold metal, but he couldn’t help his hips jerking towards you, trying to fuck your mouth. 

You hummed the first time it hit the back of your throat, a surprise that you could handle, and were more than happy to accommodate. 

“You like that, huh?” He laughed, jutting his hips again. 

You responded with an affirmative hum, sitting your palms flat on the shag carpet on either side of you, staying as still as possible when he kept it up. 

“You’re a good little whore, huh? Hiding—fuck—hiding behind your pleated skirts, speaking when spoken to.” His grip in your hair tightened, and you felt saliva drip from your bottom lip as he continued fucking your mouth. “You just needed the right cock to open you up.” 

He hit the back of your throat again, and you started to tear up, “Look at me.” He said, and you blinked the tears out of your eyes, looking up at him through clumped lashes, “That’s it sweetness, you like how my cock feels in your mouth?” 

You nodded, closing your eyes again as you moved a hand from the floor and squeezed it between your thighs. It was a feeble attempt to resist the mounting pressure in your cunt from the way Eddie was speaking to you, the way he was simultaneously coming undone and maintaining vicious composure. 

He thrusted into the back of your throat once more before slowing his pace, and you opened your eyes again to look at him, tears spilling from the corners. He was staring down at you, a lopsided smile on his lips, “I’m sorry, where are my manners?” 

Pulling his cock from your mouth with a wet pop!, he sat down on his heels and wiped the tears from your face with one hand, the other coasting once again up your leg, under the skirt of your dress. 

“Spread your legs for me.” He traced a finger along the hem of your underwear, waiting as you slid your legs open, skirt riding up your thighs with every inch. 

He sighed at the sight of your bare skin, the patch of wetness on your stark white panties. He slid his thumb under the side hem of the underwear, over your clit as the rest of his fingers pressed against you, the underside of his rings digging into your skin. 

The dull pain of the metal combined with the hot sensation of his thumb sent you backward against the side of the van, the back of your head hard against the steel. 

“You’re so close already, you little tease.” He slid his thumb down your vulva, slicking it up with your arousal before he went back to circle your clit. They were slow, tenuous movements that had you driving your fists into the carpet, pulling at the cheap threads. Eddie laughed, a raucous laugh that lit you up with shame, the burning between your legs now finding a home in your cheeks. 

“You like this, don’t you?” He leaned in, teeth catching the edge of your jaw, “Being my little slut, my little tease,” He nipped at your ear, bringing his voice as low as he could, a quiet ache that settled between your bones, “My good…little…whore.” 

Eddie pressed a kiss to the same spot he had earlier, lingering this time to suck a mark right at the edge of visibility. It would take extra time in the mirror to get your hair to fall right, and he knew it. 

He grabbed your jaw with his free hand, “Isn’t that right?” 

You nodded as his thumb flicked back and forth over your clit, “Yes, yes, fuck, I’m your whore, your—your slut, what—whatever you wan—nt me to be.” 

He kissed you for the first time, smashing his lips against yours with his hand still squeezing your jaw, making your lips pucker. 

Patting you on the cheek, he took his hand out from between your legs, “Good. Now get out of your clothes.” 

You hurried to kick off the dress, keeping your eyes on him as he stuck his fingers in his mouth one at a time, dragging the rings off with his teeth and collecting them in his other hand. The metal clinked together with each added ring, and he dropped them into the nearby cup holder. 

The sight had you frozen in place, still in your bra and underwear, and Eddie turned to face you, “You want me to keep repeating myself?” He walked on his knees towards you, his hands skating over your bare sides, “Because,” He pinched your hip, laughing that mocking laugh, “I don’t think you want me doing that.” 

You wrenched out of your remaining clothes, and Eddie’s tongue poked out the corner of his mouth as he stared at you. Sitting back down on your knees, you stared up at him, hands on your thighs, shivering. 

He coasted his hands over your arms, “You cold?” 

“Y—yes,” You nodded, and he hunched down to press kisses against your throat, exhaling warm bouts of air on your skin. 

He dragged the tip of his tongue along the tendon of your throat, “You want me to warm you up?” 

“Mhm, yes,” You tilted your chin up, eyes fluttering closed when he started kissing again, shocked when he wrapped his hand around your throat. He didn’t constrict you, he didn’t even really squeeze, just held you there, forcing you to look into his eyes. 

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes…” You gulped, a hand sliding once again between your legs, “Yes, please?” 

He smiled and kissed you, pressing his tongue into your mouth, letting you fall into the kiss, waiting for you to get swept up before he pulled away. 

“There you go,” He clapped his hands together off to the side, light taps that were more patronizing than anything, “You’re getting it.” 

You smiled, squeezing your palms flat against each other between your legs, waiting. 

Eddie slid his jeans down the rest of the way, kicking his old sneakers off with them, his jacket and the flannel underneath following suit until he was right there with you, in just his faded t-shirt. Almost as exposed as you were. 

He kneeled in front of you, combing the front strands of your hair out of your face, “Lay down for me.” 

You listened without contest, stretching out in the back of the van, knees pulled toward you. 

Eddie placed both hands on either knee, spreading your legs open, staring down the length of your body. His gaze seared into you as he lowered himself between your legs, mouth hot against your cunt. You were already soaking wet from the anticipation of it all, from the previous feeling of his thumb over your clit. The waiting was excruciating, and Eddie was milking it for all it was worth. He had you at a disadvantage, you both knew it, and if you somehow forgot your station beneath him, he was more than willing to remind you. 

The first instance was when his mouth finally latched to your cunt, lips suctioned to the space around your clit, tongue flicking once, twice, three times before you moved to slide a hand in his hair. He snatched your wrist, and pulled away from you. 

“Ah-ah-ah, you’re gonna keep your hands to yourself.” He guided your hand back up, resting it atop your stomach. 

Embarrassment flocked your cheeks, and you stuttered out an “I’m sorry.” 

"Sh sh sh,” He whispered, squeezing your hand with his before he slid it back underneath your thigh to hold you, “It’s a learning experience, doll.” 

You nodded, and he pressed his tongue back against you, driving your head into the carpet, your hands threading through the shag. You barely registered the loosening grasp on your thigh before his fingers were inside you, curling upward and pumping against your walls, in tandem with the sloven flick of his tongue. 

As you lost yourself, legs shaking, body arching, Eddie laughed against your cunt, pausing to suck kisses into your skin. The slow drag of his tongue along your inner thigh was punctuated by a kiss on your knee. With his fingers still inside you, he darted up to your mouth, lips slick with your arousal as he kissed you. 

“You like the taste of your own cunt?” He spoke into your mouth, long hair falling against your cheeks. It was soft, enveloping your features as he kissed you harder. 

“Yes, shit, yes,” You muttered, Eddie’s thumb once again back on your clit, sliding back and forth over the slick nub. 

He pulled away from your mouth, watching you lose yourself in his touch, a quiet ohhhh leaving his lips as he looked on with fondness, “That’s it, good girl, shhh…” 

You couldn’t help the whines and whimpers coming from your mouth, and Eddie saw fit to quiet them with his hand, tight over your lips. 

“You don’t want someone peeking in here. Seeing you fucked out like this, mewling and pathetic before you’ve even had my cock inside you.” He squeezed your cheekbones, “That would just ruin all the work you’ve put in, ignoring me…casting me aside…playing the good girl…only to wind up back in my van, itching for me to fuck you silly.” 

Moaning against his hand, you knocked a fist against the carpet, close to coming undone from the sensation of his fingers, the heat on your clit. 

Eddie kissed around your skin, the hand over your mouth sliding away as he brought his lips back down between your legs, looking up at you from beneath furrowed brows, “Now you’re gonna cum for me, but you’re gonna be real quiet, okay, doll? 

“Okay.” You nodded, sucking your lips in and pressing them together between your teeth, the fuzziness in your brain strengthening with every moment you waited. 

With his arms wrapped around your thighs, pulling you against his mouth, he started working you again, licking up your vulva, prodding your clit with his tongue, lapping you up, making you squirm. You almost couldn’t focus on how close you were to coming, so determined to keep quiet, to ignore the way his mouth felt on you, to be the obedient girl he wanted you to be. 

The only cues he had were the heaving breaths from your chest, the rhythm of his tongue unchanging as you struggled to maintain composure, determination driving you into the floor of the van, loose threads of fabric coming up between your fingers, hair mussing in the back. 

Eddie’s grip tightened as he felt you hitting your peak, forcing your cunt closer to his mouth, smothering his face as he led you through your orgasm. 

Your body shook, guttural groans trapped and dying in your throat, determination wracking your body with spasms and the most blinding orgasm of your life. An atom bomb went off behind your eyes, fallout lighting up your brain, flocking down your body. It left you struggling to regain your breath, air cycling through your lungs in a broken, uneven pattern. 

Eddie didn’t waste a moment bringing his lips to yours, enveloping your body with his, and you swallowed the whimper that almost escaped when you felt his cock slide between your legs, slicked up with saliva and arousal, prodding at your entrance. 

“Such a good little whore for me. Don’t hold back, I, mmm,” He paused as you arched your back up against him, “I wanna hear those filthy fucking noises now, got it?” 

“Y—yes.” You had regained some composure, once again just waiting for Eddie, focused on steadying your breathing. 

Your efforts were stifled when Eddie reached over his shoulder and yanked off his shirt, his torso littered with tattoos that you’d never had the privilege to see. He was more than happy to show off the ink on his arms, and the piece below his collarbone, but his body was patched with dark ink that he’d never even spoken of. 

You leaned up on your elbows, scouring the illustrations much to Eddie’s amusement. 

“I almost feel shy, the way you’re lookin’ at me like that.” He smiled, leaning over you, pushing you down onto your back once again, “Almost.” He whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

Grabbing one of your hands, he guided you to his chest, and you silently thanked the universe that he was letting you touch him again. Your hand coasted down his abdomen, around his side, curving along his shoulder blade as he ducked his head down into your neck. 

He pressed kisses over your skin, thrusting his hips into you, cock twitching between your legs, and you found yourself feeling empty, sick of waiting and in desperate need of being filled. 

“Eddie, please, please,” You scraped your nails over his back, nicking the spattering of moles and light acne he hadn’t quite grown out of. 

“Yes, doll?” He kissed the pulpit of your throat, licking up your neck to the underside of your chin. 

“I need you inside me, please.” 

“Mmm,” He hummed against your neck, a sound of pity, as if he wasn’t also desperate to stick his cock inside you, “I guess I am feeling generous tonight.” 

You let out a sigh of relief, hand sliding down to his lower back, trying to push him into you, but he stopped himself. 

“Uh-uh, wrap it before you tap it, isn’t that what they say?” 

He started to pull away, but you clung onto him, shaking your head, “I’m on the pill, please just fuck me. Please.” 

Eddie still backed away so you could see his face, a wide grin on his mouth as he shook his head, “Well god fucking bless the feminist movement then, huh?” 

He slid his cock against you a couple more times—making you writhe underneath him—before he pushed into you for the first time. 

You inhaled a sharp breath as he filled you up, crying out just as he did, the pressure of his cock filling you up inside, making your stomach churn with his first few thrusts. 

He didn’t allow you to stay in this position long, crushed underneath his weight, his lips on yours. Pulling his cock from your cunt, he sat up on his knees, hands sliding under your thighs to drag you up, lining your entrance with his tip. He slammed once into you, sending a shockwave through your body. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He asked, thrusting his hips against you. 

“Yes, fuck.” You threaded a hand through your hair, forcing your eyes open to look at him. 

“You gonna look the other way the next time you see me around town, then? Shun the burnout, the loser, the freak?” His voice was low, each hard thrust pushing you up on the carpet, burning your skin. 

“N—no, never again.” 

His pace quickened, “Say you’re sorry.” 

“I’m s—sorry, mm, god,” You were lost. You’d do anything he said, say anything he wanted, let him control you as long as he could make you feel this good. 

He cackled, slapping his hips against yours faster now, “Good girl. You want me to fuck you like this again?” 

“Whenever you want, wh—whatever you want, E—Eddie.” 

“That’s right. Cause you’re my little whore.” He started dragging out the words again, but the words were hiccupped, broken by the thrusts, “I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this. Understood?” 

You nodded, forgetting yourself, and Eddie was quick to reach up and grab your face, “What the fuck did I say about having to repeat myself?” 

“I’m sorry, I—” 

He let go of your face, pulling out of your cunt and flipping you over onto your stomach, giving you no more than a second to adjust yourself before he was slamming back into you. 

You cried out, hard hands on your hips. He slid one over your back, grabbing onto the knotted hair and forcing your head up. 

Eddie dug his nails into your hip, his cock filling you up, desperate thrusts hitting your nerves. Your stomach churned again, a dull ache that made it hard to breathe, pain that was too good to stop. You considered begging him to stop, to give you a break, but you didn’t want either. If you could live with his cock inside you, you would, and you’d thank him for the privilege. 

“Is my girl ready to cum for me again?” He groaned, tugging at your hair again, exposing your throat. 

“Yes, please, please, please,” Each word was whinier than the last, and Eddie slid his hand around front to your throat, caressing the taut skin, feeling the way it vibrated as you moaned. 

Slamming faster into you, mounting the pressure in your cunt, “Cum on my cock,” He ordered, “Don’t be coy now, cum on my fucking cock.” 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you yelped at the sudden feeling of his finger on your clit, circling rhythmic to his thrusts. He tightened his fingers against the sides of your throat, and you choked out more whines, whimpering and gasping as you teetered on the edge. 

“Don’t make me say it again.” Eddie teased, you could hear the amusement in his voice, the eagerness to punish you. 

But he didn’t have to, the threat alone sent you over the cliff, the confidence he carried, playful and scary all at once. With wracked moans escaping your lips, your entire body tensed up as you came again, the cold burn of frostbite washed over you, a blue heat that came in waves from your cunt and extended outward to your toes and fingertips. 

The sensation of your orgasm had Eddie on the verge of his, and he let go of your throat to grab your hips again, pulling you backwards onto his cock. 

“You want me to fill you with my cum?” He laughed again, almost breathless. 

“God, fuck, yes, please.” You let your head fall down, arched your body up further, clasping your hands together in front of you. 

“Mmm…” Eddie moaned, and you felt his thrusts staggering, felt his hand slap against your ass, felt the unmistakable shudder of his orgasm, the string of expletives that preceded it. 

It was nearly enough to make you cum a third time. 

And Eddie—as though he knew—pulled his cock out from you with a sharp gasp, only to replace it with his tongue. He licked from your clit to your hole, lips sucking on your fucked out cunt, tongue flicking back and forth over the bundle of nerves. 

“Shit, Eddie, shit shit shit.” You thought you were done, thought he’d finally given you reprieve, but Eddie was insatiable. With his mouth on your cunt, you could almost pretend he was trying to be giving, but it was the sadist in him. The tortuous DM from all those years ago, a smile on his face as he placed impossible odds in front of you. 

He hummed against your cunt, tongue sliding sideways over your clit, pressing harder and harder into you. 

The third orgasm was the most blinding of all, your body seizing, frozen in place and unable to escape the endless sensation of his scorching tongue on you. When you finally fell out from paralysis, muscles quivering and begging for rest, he pressed kisses between your legs, a satisfied sigh hitting your skin. 

You slid down onto your stomach, stretching your legs out and resting your head on your arms. 

Eddie appeared next to you, on his back, a moment later, tapping his fingers on his chest to beckon you over. 

You were more than happy to oblige, scooting over to curl up against him, head on his chest and his arm around your shoulders. He pressed a kiss to your hair and laughed, “Good girl.” 

Looking up at him, you saw the way his features had softened, the intensity faded in the blissful aftermath. In a moment of courage, you raised a hand to his face, combing your fingers through his hair. 

He let it happen, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch, pressing his lips against your forearm. 

The two of you lay there in silence for a while, your leg resting atop Eddie’s, fingers running back and forth over his chest. 

You finally broke the silence, lifting your head to look up at him, “I really am sorry, you know.” 

Eddie looked down at you, “I know.” 

You nodded, “I promise I’ll never look the other way again.” Smiling, you pressed your luck, “Your eyes are too pretty for that.” 

He reached over and took your chin between his fingers, tilting you up more, the smile leaving your lips. His eyes scanned your face, lips opening to say something, a thought he ended up abandoning. 

The smile came back, “Is that a green light to joke around again?” 

He laughed and shook his head, hand leaving your chin to instead crawl down your arm, “As long as I can touch you like that again, you can tell as many jokes as your little heart desires.” 

You hummed happily, nuzzling into his chest, “Hey, why were you in this parking lot anyway?” 

Eddie waved his hand, “Some of the freshmen who took over Hellfire had their little dates here.” 

You sat up, and cocked your head at him, “So they could just…come out at any moment?” 

He grimaced and shot up with you, “Well, shit. We should probably get dressed then, huh?” 

You reached over and threw his shirt at him, shaking your head, “You’re lucky you’re pretty.” 

Eddie grabbed your wrist and brought you in for a kiss, his hand on the back of your head, holding you close until he pulled away with a shiteating grin. 

“Don’t I know it.” 

[billthedrake]

BIRD IN THE HAND (PART FOUR)

Paul Ricciardi didn't cook but he was used to clean up duty at his house. So it was natural to offer now. It had been weird, in a good way, to see his little brother come out and have his first real relationship, at 48. John was clearly head over heels for Cole, and even over dinner they'd trade glances in a honeymoon kind of way.

Paul was happy for John, but damnit even seeing that 20-something hottie made him pine for some hot guy-on-guy sex. It was an itch he hadn't scratched the last seven months. Maybe it was for the best, but Paul hadn't been exaggerating when he'd told John seven months ago that no one could live up to Cole's hotness. The FBI deputy director had gone through withdrawals from being cut off from Cole Walker's ass. He was still going through them.

"Let me get this, Paul," John said as he walked into the kitchen with the empty beer glasses and picking up a spare dish towel and slinging it over his meaty shoulder. John always had the more jacked body, but lately, it was like he'd gone hog wild with his workouts. His little bro was the opposite of little - not overly musclebound but definitely big all over.

"Nah, man," Paul objected. "I told ya, I got this."

John smirked, and Paul thought it was just because his brother was playing some etiquette game. But the younger agent leaned in and whispered, "Bro... Cole's back in the bedroom right now... if you're interested."

Paul gulped. His immediate reaction was to think it was a trap. "Come on, John," he objected, but already his face was flushing read.

John held his brother's gaze steady and gave a friendly nod. "Seriously, Paul, the stud's craving some Head Honcho time."

"Head Honcho?" Paul asked with a surprised chuckle.

John flashed a grin. "His nickname for you, bro." He patted Paul's shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. "He's in total heat tonight. If you're not gonna go fuck him, I will."

Paul felt hot and his throat felt tight. "No, no... I wanna," came the reply out of his mouth. He took one more good look at his brother's face. He didn't want to mess their relationship up, but he also didn't want to pass on what was being offered. "If you give the OK, John."

"Have at it, Tiger... trust me," he said. Already he was starting the water in the sink and rinsing the dishes.

Paul didn't rush back to the bedroom, but he walked briskly, already unbuttoning his button-down shirt. As he rounded the corner he could see the kid... 24 now and still collegiate and youthful. Amazing ex-soccer body that had only been honed by steady gym time since his Georgetown days, a classic bubble ass that had to be half genetics and half dedicated work.

Cole Walker clearly knew what drew the Ricciardi brothers to him like a moth to flame.

"Hey," the jocky dude said dreamily as he stretched face down on the bed and looked back. Cole's voice was alluringly deep.

God, it was almost like the seven months had never happened and Paul was boning up for a quickie. But if anything the FBI man wanted the kid more badly now. He untucked his shirt and undid his belt. "I take it you're OK with this, too."

Cole nodded. "John and I have talked a lot about it. We want this," Cole replied. "I want this." He turned to face forward and slightly arched his back before hiking that round, smooth muscular ass up.

Goddamn, Paul's throat went dry. Hurriedly he stripped the rest of his clothes off and climbed up onto the bed, on top of Cole's taut, fit shorter body. The kid felt warm and the skin of his younger muscle felt dry against Paul's hairy chest. The law man kissed excitedly along Cole's strong neck and pawed at the hottie's arms and upper body.

This was all the foreplay the kid was gonna get though. The lube was out already and Paul helped himself. A seven month dry spell - at least outside of his marriage - was about to end.

"God fucking damn," he growled as he pressed inside that warm, snug ass. Cole was still tight but the kid took Paul's fat tool more readily than before in. John had broken the younger stud in, and that idea excited Paul. He barreled his tool all the way in.

"Fuck yeah," Cole hissed. "Fuck me, sir."

Paul did just that, with a few hard, deep shoves before working up to a faster fuck. "YOu missed Daddy's cock, boy?" His hips were working extra hard to pile drive the kid, making up for lost time.

Cole shook his head no. "John's my Daddy now. You're Uncle Paul."

Jesus, fuck, the kid was pervy, more than Paul ever dreamed. "Christ," he muttered, but mostly his reaction was to go wild on Cole's ass. Heavy, full-body thrusts in and out. A fuck that made the mattress bounce in time. Cole loved it but the whimpers were on the cusp of pleas to stop. They only made the lawman fuck harder.

"UNNNF!" Paul hissed as he came, all too soon. He'd probably lasted two minutes inside Cole's hole. He paused and caught his breath before he pulled out. His prick felt slimy wet and instinctively he knew he'd blown a double-heavy load just then. He patted Cole's perfect, alabaster-pale rump and slid off to the side. "Um, you cum, buddy?" he asked. He'd never been concerned about Cole Walker's orgasms before, but he knew the kid would get off on the hard sex and what he'd just delivered had ranked up there for a pile driving fuck.

Cole turned on his side, his ripped, taut body twisting for Paul's still hungry gaze. That ex-jock bone was still rigid. "Nah, Uncle Paul... but that's cool. I'm hoping your brother finishes me off."

"Damn," Paul hissed. He was used to being the in-charge one, but he realized he was over his head here. He placed his hand behind Cole's neck, taking a second to sink into those eyes and take in that cute face. And like that, Paul was kissing him. Maybe it was against the ground rules, but John hadn't actually set any. He'd just sent Paul back to the bedroom.

And Cole was getting into the kiss too. Half of it was the kid hadn't gotten off, but it was a slow affectionate kiss. He had a smile when they finally broke it.

"You should have your brother give you some lessons," Cole said, matter of factly. "He's a really good kisser."

"You guys planned this," Paul observed.

Cole shrugged. "If we hadn't, you would have tried to fuck me anyway."

The words stung Paul, but he realized Cole was right. And he realized Cole wasn't offended. They kissed again. The hottie's fist was wrapped around the lawman's fat cock, which was rock hard again. Slowly stroking as they made out.

"Why don't you go get John?" Cole said at last.

Paul got off the bed and started to pick up his clothes. "Come on, Uncle Paul... Daddy knows you've fucked me. No need to be shy."

Jesus, this kid...

In for a pound, thought Ricciardi as he dropped his underwear and padded into the hall in his birthday suit. He felt a lot self conscious walking into the living area of the condo, naked and with a good shank of hardon. But John didn't bat an eye other than to flash a grin.

"The kid's ready for ya," Paul announced. Then, "you weren't kidding about him being in heat."

John's chest puffed some as he stood up. He clearly had a thick boner in his jeans. "You glad you took me up on the offer, Paul?"

His big brother nodded dumbly. "Like you wouldn't believe. And I'm gonna go for seconds unless you guys say no."

"Not gonna happen," John smirked. He stepped up to his naked older brother. The man he'd looked up to for year, the man whose success still inspired him and fed some healthy sibling rivalry.

Both Ricciardi men were nervous but it was like they new this was inevitable. Paul's hands gripped John's waist and he gently pulled him close. There was a soft growl from both as their lips connected and their mouths opened. Then, toe to toe, they stood, French kissing for the first time.

"That was fucking nice," Paul Ricciardi grunted as they broke off.

"It was," John admitted. "Glad you went it it brother."

The incest was intense but surprisingly didn't freak Paul out. "Cole says you should give me kissing lessons."

John laughed. For all that he strived to be Paul Ricciardi in bed, it was always good to be reminded of the areas where he had the edge over his big brother. "I can do that," he smirked. "In the meatime, please tell me you're gonna join us."

Paul gulped and nodded. That hot feeling and dry throat were coming back now. "I'm gonna join you guys."

Paul saw the excited look in Cole's face as he got back onto the bed. He didn't want to freak John out but he claimed another kiss of the hottie while his brother stripped down, less impatiently than he had before. Maybe Paul would have to learn some sexual control from his little brother too.

Maybe that kiss went on too long because John was now kissing up the other side.

"Oh FUCK guys," Cole whimpered now that Paul's mouth had moved to his neck. Clearly he was living out a major fantasy, and the dual foreplay was as hot as the fucking. Almost.

It was John's turn to claim a kiss, his body now flexing and showing some more intense sexual excitement. Maybe he wasn't completely patient.

"He treat ya good buddy?" John finally asked in a whisper.

"So good, Daddy," Cole muttered.

Paul looked up, watching at close quarters this intimate conversation. It was almost like he wasn't there but some hired escort who'd done his job and left.

John grinned into his younger boyfriend's face. Yes, the 24 year age gap was tough to navigate. They still got the cold shoulder from some family and friends because of it. But here, here in their shared master bed, it felt right. "What did you decide on the rubber, buddy?" His voice got tight as he asked.

Cole blushed red and seemed shy as he looked over at Paul. "Uncle Paul felt so good, Daddy... I just let him in raw."

John nodded excitedly, like he was expecting that answer. "Gonna let Daddy have a taste?"

Cole turned back to his boyfriend. "Yes sir," he replied.

Deep down, Paul knew what was happening and knew what was going to happen. But he watched, transfixed and immobile as John kissed his way down that taut chest and those six pack abs, around the kid's groin, before nudging Cole to lift his legs up.

"Oh DAMN!" the FBI man hissed as his little brother started rimming Cole's recently fucked hole. Lube and cum notwithstanding. And John wasn't hesitant, he really began rimming excitedly and munching at Cole's tender pucker.

"Push it out, buddy," John finally urged. "Push it out for Daddy."

Cole got a concerted look on his face but it was only from the enthusiastic moans coming from John that let Paul know his brother was tasting his cum.

John was like a man on a mission as his jacked agent body climbed up hurriedly to meet Cole's kiss. As they reconnected and began snowballing Paul Ricciardi's load, John kicked the ex-jock's legs apart and began fucking, wildly.

The kid was beside himself, clinging to John's strong, heaving body and having his deep anal orgasm as they shared their cummy kiss.

Only then did John pull up, his head now a few inches from Cole's face as he kept fucking. "I know it's tough buddy, but Daddy needs to get off still... you gonna be my brave little man for Daddy? Gonna hang in there?"

Paul had intended for a round two, but unable to resist tugging at his boner, watching this scene tripped his wires. Another load spurted out. And once it happened, Paul committed to stroking out the orgasm, most of the cum landing on his own chest and belly as he watched.

His dick was still oozing as John entered his own orgasm. He gave a few deep, wordless cries and a few hard pounding thrusts. Then his body clenched still and unloaded, and John kissed Cole tightly.

The couple finally had a softer peck before John turned to Paul.

"Love ya, too, brother."

"Goddamn, John," Paul hissed as he moved to kiss his kid brother, who was now well in his middle age, like Paul.

Cole was waiting patiently for his own Paul Ricciardi make out time. The seasoned law enforcement man obliged.

The three alternated for a few minutes, until Cole slipped off to go shower.

"He's something else, isn't he?" John said, his chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths as he looked over at his naked brother. For all they'd shared this was something special.

Paul looked at John, unable to resist admiring how goddamn handsome and hunky the other Ricciardi was. "John, what the hell just happened?" he asked.

John scooted in, reaching over to pull Paul's waist toward him. For all that had just gone down, this felt as intimate and naughty as any of it. "Paul, I thought you were the smart one in the family. I'm pretty sure you know."

Paul shook his head. "I guess I'm 'Uncle Paul' from now on out, huh?"

John smirked. He loved feeling Paul's hairy bulk against his own sweaty, muscular body that was covered with some of Cole's recent seed. "You have a say in the matter," John clarified. "But the kid would be thrilled."

Paul smirked. "In that case, 'Uncle Paul' it is," he muttered, bringing in his mouth closer to John's. "Now... how bout those lessons you promised.?"

THE END

[queenshelby]

The Law Student (Rewritten)

Part Nine: Blackout

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (20) & Reader (30)

Note: This plays in 1996, just before Cillian drops out of law school.

Friday came around quickly, and you couldn't help but feel tense throughout the day. You tried to shake off your nerves, telling yourself that this was just one date, nothing more, but you couldn't ignore the flutter in your chest.

After your last class of the day, you went home and took extra care preparing yourself for the evening and even though this was no more than dinner and a movie at your own house, you wanted to make an effort.

You chose a simple black cotton dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, and your hair rested loosely on your shoulders.

Your makeup was subtle yet elegant, drawing attention to your eyes and your lips shone with a hint of red gloss.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, your thoughts turned to Cillian and you wondered if he was as nervous as you were.

Your mind began to wander as you thought about the potential outcome of this date. Would it just be a simple dinner and movie, or would it lead to something more? After all, you had slept with each other before, crossing the professional line, which was what, in the end, had led to this mess and confusion now. 

The sex was surprisingly good, even though he was young and probably lacked experience.  He was attentive and eager to please, and there was something incredibly attractive about his youthful enthusiasm.

After that night, you tried your best to avoid him, both at work and outside of it. You knew that what had happened between you two was a mistake, but it was hard to forget that one explosive encounter. Now, as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help but feel a stirring of desire deep in your core.

You shook your head, trying to ward off the thoughts of Cillian that threatened to consume you.  It was just one date, you told yourself. One date to clear the air, to establish some boundaries. That's all this was and there was no way that you could possibly cross that boundary again. 

At around 6 o'clock, your doorbell rang, breaking you out of your reverie. You took a deep breath and made your way to the door. Cillian stood there, wearing a fitted navy blue shirt that emphasized his toned physique, with his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans. His eyes sparkled with excitement and anticipation as you opened the door.

"Wow, you look incredible Miss Y/LN," he breathed, his deep blue eyes sweeping over you in appreciation.

Despite yourself, you blushed at the sincerity in his voice. "Thank you, Cillian," you murmured, stepping aside to let him in.

He picked up two bags of groceries which he had momentarily placed on to the floor and, as he passed you, you caught a whiff of his cologne -- a musky, woodsy scent that sent a shiver down your spine. You closed the door behind him, and when you turned around, he was standing in the middle of your kitchen, placing the bags on the counter. He looked around curiously, taking in the familiar surroundings of your home.

"Nice place," he said and the softness in his voice caught you off guard, made your pulse quicken.

"You have been here before," you chuckled , trying to keep things light-hearted and casual.

"Well, that time, I didn't really notice because I was too distracted by you," he replied with a smirk, his deep blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

You tried not to get drawn in by his charisma, but it was hard to resist. He was charming and unapologetically confident - two qualities that you found incredibly attractive.

"What's for dinner?" you asked, eager to change the subject and diffuse the tension that was building between you two.

"Uhm, spaghetti I think,"  he replied, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment before he turned his attention back to the groceries. 

"You think?" you chuckled , raising an eyebrow at him. "Well, I hope you know what you're doing. I'm quite hungry," you eased. 

Cillian looked up at you, his deep blue eyes meeting your gaze. "Don't worry, Miss Y/LN. I've got this covered," he said, a hint of a challenge in his voice that made your heart race.

"You really need to call me Y/N while we are here, on our own,"  you reminded him, your voice a little softer than usual.

"Sure thing, Y/N," he said, his eyes gleaming at the sound of your name.

You watched as he removed the ingredients from the bag, setting out the pasta, tomatoes, onions, garlic and spices on the countertop. His movements were intentional and fluid, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation as you imagined him touching you the same way.

Cillian glanced over at you and caught you staring. "You know, I actually never cooked for anyone before, I hope I don't mess it up." Cillian's voice broke through your thoughts, making you snap back to reality.

"I am here to help, you know,"  you said, as you made your way over to the kitchen island, taking a seat on one of the barstools with a glass of wine before pouring one for Cillian as well.  He smiled appreciatively as he took the glass from you, setting it down on the counter next to him.

"Now, where are the knives and chopping boards ?" Cillian asked, searching through the cabinets.

"They're over there, by the stove," you said, pointing to a cabinet near the sink.

He opened it and retrieved the necessary items, setting them down on the counter next to the ingredients. You watched as he began chopping the tomatoes and onions with some struggle, but determination. It was oddly endearing to see him put so much focus and effort into something so simple, but it only added to his attraction. 

"Here, let me show you an easier way to chop these onions," you said, sliding off the barstool and making your way over to the counter. You stood beside him, your arms brushing against his as you demonstrated the proper technique. It was impossible not to notice the current between you, even as you worked side by side. 

"You smell really nice," he commented, his eyes flicking up briefly to meet yours before returning to the task at hand.

"Uhm, thanks," you whispered while moving aside again, allowing him some space.  Your heart raced, but you couldn't tell if it was from the thrill of being so close to him or from the anxiety of what might come. You poured another glass of wine as he continued to cook and chop, lost in thought, until he tried to put on the stove.

"How does this work? It's not turning on," Cillian said, frowning at the stove.

"Let me help you. This old stove can be a little fickle at times," you offered, walking over to the stove and bending down to examine it. As you leaned closer, your chest brushed against Cillian's arm, sending a jolt of electricity through you both. You glanced up at him, and he was looking down at you with an intense expression. His gaze lingered on your lips for a moment, and your heart skipped a beat. It took all your strength to pull away and show him how to turn on the stove.

"There you go," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, causing Cillian to smile.

"Thanks ," he muttered, his eyes locked on yours for a moment too long.

As you both stood there, the tension between you grew heavier, like an invisible thread trying to pull you together. The air felt charged and thick, and it only became more apparent when you caught a glimpse of his hand reaching towards your face , tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent a shiver down your spine and brought goosebumps to your skin. It had been so long since you've allowed someone this close.

"You know, Y/N, I really like your hair down. It suits you," Cillian murmured, his deep blue eyes never leaving yours. You couldn't help but blush at the sincerity in his voice and the way he looked at you made your heart race.

You stepped back, trying to create some distance between you two before your resolve weakened. "Let me get the pasta cooking while you finish chopping the rest of the vegetables," you said, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy.

As you busied yourself with the pasta, the silence in the kitchen became palpable. You could feel Cillian's gaze on you, but you were too afraid to meet his eyes.

You didn't want to risk getting lost in their depths again, allowing yourself to feel the intense attraction that had led you to this moment. You focused on cooking the pasta, letting the rhythmic movement of stirring the pot center you as you pushed away the rising desire.

Finally, Cillian broke the silence. "So, what movie do you want to watch later? I mean, what sort of stuff do you like?"  Cillian asked as he placed the chopped vegetables into the sizzling skillet of garlic and olive oil. The sound of the sizzling and popping of the food filled the already charged silence.

"I'm not really fussy when it comes to movies," you replied almost distractedly as you kept your focus on stirring the pasta, trying to maintain some sort of composure. "As long as it's a good story, I'll watch anything."

Cillian nodded in agreement, "I did bring a few from with me from home. You can pick one, if you like," Cillian suggested as he mixed the chopped vegetables around in the pan.

"You came prepared, I see," you replied with a small smile playing on your lips as, suddenly and somewhat unexpectedly, the power went out.

The kitchen lights flickered wildly before dousing the room in complete and utter darkness, leaving you both momentarily stunned.

"Fuck that was unexpected," Cillian muttered under his breath, finding his voice first.

You attempted to laugh it off nervously, aware of the sudden change in atmosphere and how intensely close Cillian was standing behind you.

"Let me get a torch, hang on,"  you said, fumbling around in a drawer for a flashlight. As you turned around, your knee accidentally brushed against Cillian's in the darkness causing tingling sensations to ripple through your body.

"Careful," Cillian murmured softly, your ears detecting the hint of mirth and intrigue simmering in his tone. You found the flashlight, switching it on as your eyes slowly began adjusting to the sudden bright light that carved through the darkness. It was like an ethereal spotlight illuminating only what was directly before you both.

Using the flashlight, you looked out of the window and noticed that all of the houses surrounding your building were in the dark.

"I think there might be a complete power outage," you said, directing the beam of light towards Cillian who had been quietly observing you.

"Well, I guess we'll have to skip the movie tonight," Cillian replied. "But at least dinner is ready, I suppose," he said, seeing that you had almost finished cooking. 

You nodded nervously, not entirely hating the idea of spending more time with Cillian without the distraction of a movie. 

"True that. I will find some candles, if you would like to dish out the food?" you suggested, hoping that Cillian wouldn't read too much into the situation.

"Sure," Cillian confirmed while you handed him to plates before disappearing into the living room to look for some candles.

You found a box of long white candles on a shelf in the living room, along with some matches. You grabbed them and returned to the kitchen where Cillian was waiting.

The sight of Cillian in your kitchen, the soft glow from the flashlight illuminating his face, made your heart beat faster. He looked so at home in your space, like he belonged there.

It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling, having someone else in your house, especially someone as young and handsome as Cillian. You tried to shake off the thought, reminding yourself that this was only temporary, that after this night things would go back to normal.

You lid the candles and placed them around the kitchen, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. Cillian had finished plating the food, and you both sat down to eat at the kitchen table.

As you twirled your spaghetti around your fork, you couldn't help but steal glances at Cillian. He seemed so sure of himself, so confident. And yet, there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, something that made him all the more attractive.

"I am somewhat glad that the power went out, to be honest," Cillian admitted, breaking the silence between you both. "It's kind of romantic, don't you think?"  Cillian said with a smile, his deep blue eyes meeting yours in the soft glow of the candles.

You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to keep your composure even though you couldn't deny the fluttering feeling in your chest. "You think this is romantic?" you eventually asked, attempting to downplay the situation.

"Yeah, kind of...I think," he stammered, his voice low and earnest. "I mean, it's just us, in your house, with candles and food. It feels inttimate somehow,"  Cillian explained, his words causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.

You nodded in agreement, surprised by the sudden shift in the atmosphere between you two. "I guess you're right," you said, feeling the tension between you grow stronger with every passing moment.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware against plates and the soft murmur of contentment as you both enjoyed the meal that Cillian had made. But as time passed, the silence grew heavier, like a thick blanket settling over the room.

You could feel Cillian's gaze on you, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Was he feeling the same tension that you were? Was he experiencing the same longing, the same desire?

Finally, you looked up at him, locking eyes in the flickering candlelight. You could see the heat building in his deep blue eyes, and it made your stomach clench with anticipation.

"Do you like boardgames?" Cillian asked suddenly, breaking the thick silence that had enveloped the room.

You raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at the sudden change of topic. "Yes, I do. Why do you ask?"

"If you have any games, we could play one after dinner if you like ," Cillian replied casually, as if he hadn't just ignited a spark of excitement in your chest. "My family used to play games a lot together when I was growing up, and I always found it was fun during blackouts." 

You considered his suggestion for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Sure, that sounds like a great idea actually." You couldn't remember the last time you had played a board game as your ex husband hated them with a passion, always preferring to bury himself in his work.

After dinner, you scanned the living room for any games you might have forgotten about. "Ah, here we go." You picked up an old Scrabble set from a dusty shelf. "Do you want to play this?" you asked, holding up the game.

Cillian nodded eagerly, taking the game from your hands. "Scrabble is a classic," he said, flashing you a toothy grin that sent butterflies swarming in your stomach.

"But I have to admit, I do have a bit of an unfair advantage."

"Unfair advantage?" you asked with a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

He smirked mischievously. "I am the unbeaten scrabble champion in my family, you know."

You couldn't help but laugh, his energy and enthusiasm infectious. The tension between you two had dissipated slightly, replaced by an ease and comfort that was surprising yet welcome.

"Well then, bring it on then!" you  challenged Cillian with a playful smile, feeling the tension ease between you two. You grabbed some paper and a pen to keep score as he opened the game board and began to sort the tiles on the coffee table in front of you.

You both sat down on a cushion, with a glass of wine, in front of the coffee table. The power outage had put a different spin on things, and instead of getting lost in your own worries, you found yourself enjoying Cillian's company. He had a brilliant mind and an easygoing manner that made it impossible not to like him.

You watched in amusement as he craftily laid out his first word on the board, earning himself a good amount of points.

You followed suit, creating your own word next to his and enjoying the back-and-forth challenge of trying to outmaneuver one another. The game was intensifying with every move, and before you knew it, an hour had passed since you started playing, during which you did a lot of talking as well. 

As Cillian reached for another tile, he paused for a moment and looked up at you. "You know, Y/N," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I really appreciate this."

"Appreciate what?" you asked, taken aback by the sudden earnestness in his tone.

"This. Being here with you, it's just really nice," Cillian replied, his deep blue eyes meeting yours in the soft glow of the candles.

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and for a moment, the barrier you had put up cracking just a bit.

"Thank you, Cillian," you said softly, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "I'm glad you're here," you told him  , holding his gaze for a few more moments before looking away.

You both continued to play the game quietly now, unlike before where you talked a lot about common interests. But now, you were trying to ignore the heat simmering between you. The flickering candles cast deep shadows on your faces, highlighting your flushed cheeks and the longing in your eyes. You were acutely aware of how close Cillian was sitting next to you, and of how the air between you both crackled with tension.

Finally, after what felt like hours of willful ignorance, Cillian set down his tiles and one of his hands reached out to you, brushing your thigh. 

"I think you won. It's getting late," you said quietly then as those blue eyes of his were burning into you.

"I know. But if this is really the only date I get, I don't want this night to end," Cillian replied, his voice ragged with desire. He took a deep, steadying breath as he leaned closer to you, his hand tightening on your thigh.

You let out a shaky sigh as his fingers traced slow, teasing circles on your skin. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs and your heart pounded in your chest.

With trembling hands, you reached up to touch his face.  The stubble on his jaw scratched at your palm, sending shivers down your spine. He leaned into your touch, his eyes never leaving yours. You could see the raw desire in them, and it only served to fuel your own need.

Without a word, Cillian closed the distance between you and claimed your mouth with his. His lips were soft against yours, but the urgency of the kiss was anything but gentle. He nipped at your bottom lip, demanding entrance and, after not too long, you obliged.

You moaned as his tongue entered your mouth, tasting of the wine you shared earlier in the evening. You matched his intensity as you lost yourself in the moment, the two of you searching for some friction to alleviate the ache that had been building within you since first laying eyes on him.

As you began to writhe on the floor in front of him, Cillian pulled back from your lips and looked down at your flushed face, panting and ready for whatever he was going to do next.

"We should not be doing this again ," you whispered between ragged breaths, your mind a fuzzy mess of conflicting emotions and pure desire. Part of you knew that what was happening between you both was wrong, but there was another part of you, deep down inside, that craved for the pleasure only Cillian could give you.

"I know," he replied huskily as he began to tug at the buttons on your black cotton dress, exposing your lacy white bra and the rosy tips of your breasts.

You gasped as his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your cleavage, sending shivers down your spine.

"I shouldn't want you as much as I do. I shouldn't be doing this," you murmured between shallow breaths, even as your hands snaked around his neck and pulled him closer.

"But you do, and I want you too. And right now, that's all that matters," Cillian whispered back, his voice laced with determination and desire.

He tugged at your dress and, of course, you got the message and quickly pulled over your head , leaving you in only your white lacy bra and matching underwear.

Cillian let out a low growl as he took in the sight of your bare flesh, his eyes roving over every inch of you like a starving man granted access to a lavish feast.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're so beautiful," he murmured, and you could already see his erection straining against his jeans. 

"So are you," you told him as you reached for the buttons of his shirt. "You're so fucking handsome, Cillian."

Cillian's lips curved upwards in a pleased smile as you finished unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his toned chest. Without hesitating, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his firm pecs. His breath caught as your tongue darted out to taste him, leaving a trail of moisture in its wake. He tasted like sweat and musk, it was intoxicating.

Cillian responded by running his fingers through your hair, tugging gently at the roots.

You couldn't help but moan at the sensation, your body arching into his touch. He took advantage of your reaction by shifting you closer to him, your thighs straddling his.

The friction from the denim of his jeans and the lace of your thong sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. You could feel yourself getting wetter with every passing second, all reason fleeing your mind as your desire for Cillian became paramount.

"Come on, I will show you my bedroom,"  you panted, breaking the kiss for a moment as you stood up from the floor.

Cillian wasted no time responding to your invitation, quickly standing up and following you out of the living room and towards your bedroom with an eager look in his eyes.

As soon as he entered the room, he pulled you close to him again, his hands roaming over your bare skin as he hungrily devoured your lips once more. You eagerly pushed him down onto the bed, straddling him once more as you ground your hips against his denim clad erection.

"Tell me how much you want me!" you told Cillian as you unclasped your bra, freeing your breasts. "Say it!" you demanded, your voice breathy and dripping with need. Your hips continued to grind against him, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cillian growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "I want you. I want you so fucking bad."

His words sent a jolt of desire straight to your core, and you couldn't help but moan at the intensity of it all.

"And what do you want to do to me?" you then asked before reaching for one of his hands and bringing it up to your breast.

He squeezed it gently, his thumb brushing over your nipple, eliciting a shudder of pleasure from you.

"Fuck, Y/N, I want to do so many filthy things to you," Cillian replied, his voice husky and strained with desire.

"Be specific!"  you demanded, biting your bottom lip as you scooted back a little to unbutton and unzip his jeans. "What filthy things?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you pulled his jeans down, his boxers following suit. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight of his cock, hard and ready for you.

"I want to taste you, Y/N," Cillian growled, his hand reaching up to tangle in your hair. "I want to taste every inch of you."

You moaned at the thought, your body already trembling with need as you moved off him for a second to allow him to get rid of his jeans and briefs completely, looking slightly awkward while he did so.

"So you want to taste my pussy? Is that what you want?" you smirked as you elegantly wiggled yourself out of your lacy thong.

"Yes , that's exactly what I want," Cillian confirmed, his stare locked onto the moistness glistening between your legs.

You shivered at the intensity of his desire and at the anticipation building inside you as you crawled back onto the bed, positioning yourself over his face.

"Then go ahead," you said as you lowered yourself onto his mouth, granting him access to your warm and wet pussy.

Cillian let out a pleased growl and immediately started exploring you with his tongue.

You moaned as he licked and sucked at your clit, his tongue probing at your entrance before diving back to your swollen nub. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he feasted on you.

Your moans grew louder and more frequent as he devoured you, the pleasure building inside of you like a pressure cooker threatening to explode. You could feel the tension coiling within you, your muscles tensing up in anticipation of the release that was fast approaching.

Being so young, he was surprisingly good with his tongue, his skill only matched by the masterful way he kneaded your ass, priming you for the next step.

"God damn it, don't stop!" you panted, your fingers tangling in his hair to hold him in place as his tongue bore down on that one spot, leaving you writhing and panting. "Don't fucking stop!"

But Cillian had no intention of stopping. If anything, this was just a precursor of what was to come.

You ground your hips down, desperately chasing the elusive climax that teased you from beyond the horizon. Cillian responded in kind by slipping two fingers inside of you with ease, and hitting that spot that sent pleasure cascading through your entire body.

"Oh shit! Oh shit!" you cried out as your orgasm hit. You could feel yourself gripping onto Cillian like he was the only lifeboat available to you in a stormy sea of pleasure. Your thighs quivered around his head, your toes curled, and your back arced.

The pleasure was so intense, it was almost painful. Your orgasm seemed to last forever, ripping through you with wave after wave of ecstasy and Cillian kept on going.

"Enough! Fuck , oh fuck, Cillian, enough!" you eventually managed to gasp in between breaths as your orgasm finally subsided. Your entire body felt like a wrung out towel but Cillian wasn't done yet.

"Uh-uh , there's more where that came from." Cillian smirked and flipped you onto your back before his head disappeared in between your legs again.

"No, no! There is no more! You need to stop! I can't take it anymore," you pleaded, but Cillian ignored your cries. He continued to thrust his fingers inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that made you cry out in ecstasy before from an even better angle now. 

"Hmm, you have the most fucking perfect pussy I have ever seen," he murmured against you, causing your hips to buck upwards in response.

You couldn't help but moan again, your hips gyrating with pleasure as he went back to feasting on you.

This time, his fingers curled upwards , massaging that spot inside of you that made stars explode behind your eyes.

"Shit, Cillian, fuck!" you cried out as another orgasm threatened to shatter your very being.

You writhed and bucked, your hips seemingly moving of their own accord as he refused to let up.

And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue, before sliding two fingers back in and teasing your clit with his thumb.

It was too much and yet not enough.

You could feel your body spiraling towards the edge, but just as you were about to fall over, Cillian would change tactics, drawing out your pleasure until you were begging for release.

"Please, Cillian," you moaned, your voice hoarse from all the moaning and crying out and he clearly loved it when you begged. "I can't take it anymore. It's too much."

But Cillian didn't stop. Instead, he increased his pace, the tip of his tongue flicking your clit rapidly as his fingers continued to thrust in and out of you with just the right amount of force.

You cried out, your entire body trembling as another orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. It was so intense that you saw stars behind your closed eyelids, your vision going white for several long moments as a warm stream of your arousal flooded over Cillian's chin.

Cillian didn't seem to mind the taste, lapping up every last drop of your release with obvious relish before finally sitting back on his heels, seemingly content to let you rest for a moment. He looked debauched and dirty and fucking perfect, his lips stained from your arousal and an almost predatory glint in his eyes.

"So how did I do?" Cillian asked, looking up at you with a smug grin.

You were still trying to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you tried to summon enough energy to speak. "You...you did good," you finally managed to gasp out.

Cillian chuckled and leaned forward to press a soft, chaste kiss to your lips. "Just good?" he teased, pulling back just enough so he could look you in the eyes.

"Fucking amazingly good," you corrected, finally finding your voice. "Almost too good, actually!" 

"Jesus, and I thought you were stickler for the use of correct grammar," Cillian chuckled, crawling back up your supine body. His lips peppered kisses down your neck and collarbone before he settled to kneel between your legs once more.

You chuckled, still slightly out of breath from the two intense orgasms that had just rocked your world.  "You're right, I am a stickler for grammar and proper sentence structure, but my brain seems to have turned to mush from what you just did to me." 

Cillian's face split into a wide grin as he looked down at you with pure adoration. "You know you look so fucking sexy when you loose control," he murmured, and even through your post-orgasmic haze, you couldn't help but blush at his words. "And I can't believe you squirt. Fuck, I only ever seen this in movies and magazines, you know. It's so fucking hot," Cillian continued, his voice still holding wonder in it, causing you to laugh.

"Trust me, that makes two of us. I didn't know I would do that either. But I am glad I could make your pornographic fantasies become a reality. You are welcome," you laughed, still catching your breath as Cillian hovered over your body.

You had never experienced anything like what he had just done to you, and part of you still couldn't believe it had actually happened. But as Cillian looked down at you with a hunger in his eyes, you knew he was far from finished.

His hair was disheveled from where you had tugged on it, his lips reddened from your kisses and your taste still lingered on his tongue.

You reached up to him, tracing the curve of his jaw with your fingers, marveling at the roughness of stubble against the pads of your fingers.

Cillian captured your hand in his, pressing a lingering kiss to the palm before he used it to pull you up to a seated position.

Your breasts brushed against his bare chest, a shiver running down your spine as you felt the firmness of his muscles beneath your fingertips.

"It's my turn now to taste you," you breathed in Cillian's ear, causing goosebumps to break out across his skin.

With one swift movement, you pushed him onto his back and your head disappeared between his legs, your tongue sweeping across the already damp tip of his cock.

Cillian sucked in a sharp breath as he felt the heat of your mouth and the wetness of your tongue against him. His hands found their way into your hair, fisting the strands as you licked and sucked your way down his length.

You took your time, exploring every inch of him with your tongue, tasting the musky saltiness of his skin and the smoothness of his shaft. You could feel Cillian's hips bucking beneath you, his movements urgent and needy.

"You have such a perfect cock ," you told him between sucks, enjoying the shudder that ran through him at your words. "It tastes so good."

You hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper, your nose brushing against his coarse pubic hair as you finally took him all the way in.

Cillian let out a guttural moan, his fingers tightening in your hair as you deep throated him while, all at the same time, playing with his balls.  The sensation was overwhelming, a heady mix of pleasure and pain that sent shivers down his spine. He had never experienced anything like this before, and he knew that he would never forget the feel of your mouth on him, the sound of your moans of pleasure as you sucked him deeper into your throat.

You pulled back, gasping for air and leaving a string of saliva connecting Cillian's cock to your lips. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, your lips shiny with spit and pre-cum.

Cillian groaned at the sight, his entire body trembling as he tried to hold back. His hips bucked upwards, chasing your mouth as you pulled back, teasing him.

"You like that, don't you?" You purred, your fingers drifting down to cup his balls as you pressed open-mouthed kisses against his muscular thighs. "You like having my mouth on your cock."

Cillian couldn't speak, but his response was obvious as he let out a strangled moan in answer.

His hips continued to push upwards, seeking out your mouth as you trailed wet kisses back up his shaft.

"Y/N, I'm going to cum," Cillian warned, his voice strained and ragged. "You need to stop, fuck."

You gave him a mischievous grin before taking him back in your mouth, swallowing everything he had to offer and only pulling away when he was spent and trembling beneath you.

"I want you to cum in my mouth, Cillian ," you said, your voice low and sultry as you looked up at him from beneath your lashes.

Cillian groaned at the sight of you, your swollen lips and the glistening sheen of saliva and pre-cum coating your chin and lips. You reached up to stroke him gently before leaning in to take him back in your mouth.

You felt Cillian's body tense beneath your touch, his fingers tightening in your hair as he pulled you closer to him, burying himself in your throat once again.

You moaned around him, your fingers wrapping tighter around his shaft as you stroked him in time with your mouth.

Cillian's hips began to buck wildly, his back arching off the bed as he lost himself in the pleasure coursing through him.

You could feel him twitching in your mouth, the salty taste of his pre-cum mixing with the musky essence of his arousal on your tongue.

"Fuck, Y/N! I'm gonna cum!" Cillian shouted, his voice ragged and raw with pleasure.

You felt his cock swell and pulse in your mouth, the first spurt of his warm, salty release coating your tongue as you tried to collect his load in your mouth.

Cillian let out a guttural groan as he emptied himself, his fingers still fisted in your hair, holding you in place as your cheeks filled out with his seed until, finally, he was done. His hips stuttered against your face, his entire body shuddering with pleasure as he rode out the last waves of his release.

You opened your mouth to show him the pearly liquid coating your tongue, before swallowing it down with a filthy little grin.

Cillian groaned as he looked down at you, his cock still twitching in the aftermath of his orgasm. A small amount of cum had spilled out of the corner  of your mouth and was slowly dribbling down your chin.

You smiled at him, a wicked glint in your eyes as you collected the droplets with your index finger before, suggestively,  licking it off your finger.

Cillian's chin dropped open at the sight, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of your licking your lips, enjoying the taste of him. 

"Fuck that's the hottest thing I've ever seen," he breathed, still in a daze from the orgasm you had just given him.

You grinned at him, your face still flushed with pleasure and desire. "So you liked it?"

"Liked it? I fucking loved it," Cillian replied, his voice hoarse from the intensity of his orgasm.

"Good, but I still need your cock  inside me though," you told him, your voice raspy with desire as you watched him hardening again almost instantly at your words.

"Wow, that was easy," you said with a hint of surprise in your voice, stroking his hardness.

Cillian chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows. "With you it is,"  he said, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. 

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth in your chest that you hadn't felt in a long time. It was more than just lust or desire. It was a sense of closeness, of intimacy, that went beyond the physical act of sex.

"I want you inside me," you whispered, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

"Then take what you need. I am all yours," Cillian said, his voice thick with desire as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until your chests were pressed together.

You gasped as you felt his hardness pressing against the apex of your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding against him as you leaned in to kiss him deeply. 

Maneuvering  your body, you positioned yourself over his hardness and sunk down onto him with a deep groan.

Cillian's head fell back as you took him in, his fingers gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck, Y/N," he groaned as you began to move, shifting your hips back and forth, riding him with a slow and sensual pace.

You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you continued to rock your hips, allowing his length to fill you to accommodate him completely.

You moaned, your hips moving in a steady rhythm as every nerve in your body seemed to come alive with pleasure.

Cillian's breath hitched as you began to move, his hands moving up from your hips to cup your breasts. He circled your nipples with his thumbs, eliciting gasps of pleasure from you as he pinched and twisted them lightly.

"Oh fuck, Cillian," you breathed, throwing your head back as you ground your hips down against him. "You feel so fucking good inside me," you moaned, the words tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

Cillian groaned in response, his hands tightening on your hips as he thrust upwards to meet you. "You feel incredible, Y/N," he grunted, each word punctuated by a thrust of his hips. "So fucking tight and wet."

His words ignited a fire deep within you, sending shivers down your spine as you began to move faster, your body moving in a primal rhythm that seemed to have a life of its own.

You could feel the tension building within you once more, your muscles tensing up as you chased after another orgasm.

Cillian's hips met yours with every thrust, his fingers digging into your flesh as he too chased after his own release. His breath was hot against your neck, his lips leaving wet trails of kisses as he murmured filthy words of encouragement and desire. Cillian growled, his voice barely above a whisper as he nipped at your earlobe.

"I can't hold back much longer, Y/N," he moaned and you shivered at the sound of his voice, the roughness of it causing your core to clench around him. 

"Then don't," you whispered, your voice hoarse from the moans and gasps that slipped past your lips with each thrust. "Cum for me, Cillian. Cum inside me," you told him, knowing that the feeling of it would also send you over the edge.

Cillian didn't need any more encouragement. He pushed himself up and back, rolling you over so that he was now on top. His thrusts became faster, harder, building up a friction that had both of you panting and moaning in pleasure.

You could feel yourself getting close, and so could Cillian. He reached between the two of you, rubbing your clit with his thumb as he continued to thrust into you.

"Fuck, yes," you moaned, raising your hips to meet his thrusts.

"Don't stop, Cillian. Don't you dare fucking stop."

Cillian groaned at your words, his hips snapping forward with even more force as he felt you clenching around him. He could feel himself getting close, the familiar tightness in his balls signaling that his release was imminent.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside of you, letting out a guttural moan as he came hard, filling you up with his seed.

The feeling of him pulsing inside you, the slick wetness between your thighs, and the aftershocks of your own orgasm all contributed to the heady mix of pleasure and satisfaction that washed over as you came as well. Hard and fast. 

"Oh god yes," you moaned as you writhed beneath him, your hips still moving, milking every last drop out of him as he slowly came down from his high. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, sweat dripping down your forehead as you looked up at Cillian with a sated grin.

"Holy shit," Cillian whispered, still trying to catch his own breath.

His forehead was pressed against yours, sweat dripping down between the two of you as you lay there in blissful silence.

Your hands drifted up his back, feeling the muscles there ripple beneath your fingertips as he shifted and rolled off of you, collapsing onto the mattress beside you with a contented sigh.

The scent of sex and sweat filled the room, mingling with the heady aroma of arousal that still lingered in the air.

The sound of ragged breathing and the occasional soft moan filled the silence, punctuated by the quiet rustle of fabric as both of them tried to catch their breath.

Cillian turned his head to smile at you, his deep blue eyes glazed with satisfaction and warmth. His hair was a tousled mess from where your fingers had run through it, and there was a faint pink tinge to his cheeks that only served to highlight his attractiveness even more.

You smiled back at him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as you snuggled closer, resting your head on his shoulder.

Your limbs were still trembling slightly from the force of your orgasm, but you felt completely at ease in this moment.

Cillian wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "You are on the pill, right?" he then asked out of the blue, causing you to chuckle. 

"Yes, I am on the pill," you replied, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "And if I wasn't, I wouldn't have let you cum inside me."

Cillian nodded, seeming relieved at your answer. "Good," he said, before pulling you back down into a kiss.

"You didn't ask me that the last time we had sex," you murmured against his lips, a faint blush staining your cheeks.

"I should have," Cillian replied, his voice soft. "I just assumed, you know," he trailed off, a pained look crossing his face.

You reached up to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb over the faint stubble on his jawline. "I know," you murmured. "It's okay. I would have told you if I wasn't."

Cillian nodded, looking grateful for your reassurance. He wrapped his arms around you tighter, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your hair.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" you then asked , your voice soft and hesitant.

Cillian's blue eyes met yours, searching your face for any hint of uncertainty or regret. But all he saw was the same heat and desire that he felt mirrored in his own gaze. "Yes," he said, his voice a mere whisper. "I would like that," he told you and, with that, the two of you lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking until, eventually, you both drifted off to sleep. 

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