#and I think it loves her (them). I think it sees them as like lost children coming home 💚

[vampiresbloodx]

Arcane imagine.

Arcane characters react when you take a hit for them.

Characters included: Mel medarda, Caitlyn, vi, jinx, sevika.

Trigger warnings: fluff, angst, reader getting hurt, injuries, yearning, implied smut, gross m*n, harassment

Mel medarda;

It was a seemingly normal night for you both, you had decided to take Mel out for dinner, nothing too luxurious (in her own words) but you wanted nothing but the best for your Mel, she appreciated that, god, she never looked more beautiful when she's standing in the moonlight in her red dress she especially wore for you and only you

The night was going just as planned, it was perfect, there was much laughter and smiles that hurt both of your cheeks, as you held hands and walked together, occasionally sitting down and kissing one another, when of course, a drunk man happened to be near by, and he didn't like what he saw, the famous Mel medarda kissing someone that wasn't a man

He ended up becoming furious, stumbling over as he started shouting nonsense, Mel wasn't having it, she used her authority voice that turns stern to control the situation, she does this when she's nervous, and you can tell when she grips onto your hand tighter

When you see the man raising his hand in her direction, you immediately shield her and take the hit, your cheek stings as you even taste blood, that was Mel's last straw when she saw him hit her lover, you've never seen her this angry, it was a sight to see her cussing out the man and ruining him to pieces, he ended up walking off, leaving you alone as you felt a little ashamed, but you were happy that you had stopped him from hitting Mel, no one hits her

"why'd you do that?" Mel had asked, bending down on her knees as she takes your face in her hands, checking to make sure you're okay. "Why did you do that?" She keeps on asking, her eyes wide with fury and worry.

"Because I love you" was all you said.

She smiled, laughed, you laughed with her, she had tears in her eyes, though you wouldn't bring it up, you wiped some away with your thumb, as she kissed you hard

Caitlyn;

Caitlyn was out doing her duty when you were supposed to be at home, relaxing, waiting for her return, things have been getting rough fast, much to her liking as she had to deal with it all

She knew there was no going back once she went down this road, it had to be done, you had tried convincing her to stop and think, you know her grief has been eating at her, you've felt it, you know what it's like yourself

She tries to hide it, but you can see it

You try to be there for her in any way you can, whatever she needs, you'll give

While she was out one night, alone, you know she's capable of taking care of herself, you don't doubt that at all, the one time she didn't have her gun with her is when shit happens, you don't like guns, she knows this, so she tries not to carry them around you, unless absolute necessary

Then out of no where, she's attacked.

And she stumbles, for the first time in so long, she's nervous, scared, thinking about you

They came out of no where, taking her off guard as they had their masks on, it was dark out, she couldn't see much

Then you appear all of a sudden, like a knight in shining armor, she watches you in awe before she realizes what you are doing with the way you jumped at them, with fury on your face as you raised your fist, ready to protect her, she shouted your name, you looked, and you got hit

Caitlyn lost it

They were all done by the time you opened your eyes again, embarrassed, you couldn't look at Caitlyn in the eyes but she had picked you up in her arms, carrying you home, she was silent, thinking you were still out, you admired her, reaching out to caress her cheek, she smiled, looking down at you as that tells you enough

Vi;

You hadn't seen vi all day, you knew she'd come home eventually, you two had plans, a date she promised, but something didn't feel right

Vi doesn't fuck around when she makes a promise to meet with you, you know that, she knows that, others might not, but you do

When she doesn't answer your calls and texts, you get worried, eventually you went out of your apartment to go and track her down, you know a few places she'd always be at

When you find her in a tight situation, in a dark alleyway, just a few blocks away from home, as it looks like she was on the way back to you, you felt frustrated as you watched three big, tall guys who clearly had a bit to drink pick on her

Vi had fought the worst of the worst, you know that, but you weren't having it

She didn't let you join in on fighting, scared for you, she worries sick, that she might lose you, but she doubts you enough, you know it wasn't doubt though, she just cared

She cared so much

It was a surprise when she saw you running at full speed at one of the guys and taking a huge hit when he got a hand of you, shoving you off, vi was pissed

Anger was all she felt as she kicked all of their asses

She was muttering while checking in on you, she patched you up and took care of you, making sure you were okay, in her eyes, she couldn't help but admit that it was hot, and that made her fall in love harder with you

Jinx;

Jinx had always been the one to fight for herself

She wasn't used to others stepping in, unless it was for work

Like if silco had ordered them too go with her, that wouldn't make a difference

Jinx was always going to be doing everything herself, that was until you came into her life, when everything went shit when silco died, you were her light

And Isha

You two meant more to her than she could ever imagine

She began to look forward to tomorrow

The one time you, Isha, jinx all decided to go out for an adventure, she wanted to impress you with her new projects that she was working on, you always listened to her ramble and she liked it, not many people did aside from sevika, Isha and you

Though sevika just tolerated it

Everything was going perfect, when a group of idiots came out and she didn't even have all of her fancy weapons on her, the one time she doesn't, because she just wanted to have fun with her favorite people, she was actually enjoying herself, which why she got so angry when they attacked

She knows she's got plenty of enemies, that's nothing new, but what she doesn't like is when any of them go for Isha or you, you two shouldn't be involved in this, even though you and her are together together, you were more vulnerable now

She was amazed by you

What she didn't expect was to watch you stand in front of her and take a huge hit to the face just when she was handling the guys her way, that caught her off balance

She raged at them

Once she was done with them, she took your hands as she was filled with worry, her anxiety buzzing, her thoughts too loud, thinking the worst, Isha helped you stand up, she also looked concerned, wondering what had happened, why you got hurt

Jinx didn't waste anytime pressing a kiss to your lips as she took you home with Isha alongside her

Sevika;

Sevika just wanted to take you out on a nice date, as best as she could offer, she knows you'd appreciate it regardless, but she wanted to give you everything she could

You had made everything better for her the moment you stepped into her life, she wanted to do you good

The date was going perfectly, just the way she had planned, it wasn't often sevika was pleased with herself, but tonight you looked good enough to eat

Just when everything was going fine, someone had to ruin it

Someone who was upset with her

Sevika knew she made a name for herself, people knew her, they weren't always the nicest

Usually just wanted to try and fight her, to see if they'd beat her, they never do, it ends up written on all their faces

But of course, her first date with you got interrupted, and Sevika wasn't having it when this guy was trying so hard to get with you, she hated how uncomfortable you looked, he didn't even recognize her there the entire time as she stared him down with a cold glare, she made her presence known

He looked flabbergasted at the sight of sevika having a date with someone like you, you two were different, sure, she didn't care what others think, especially if they targeted you

You said you were used to it, guys coming up and flirting with you, making gross comments, she wasn't having it, she didn't care how used to it you were

"are you done here?" Sevika asked, taking a bite of a cherry as you watched, admiring her, she smirked at you.

The guy huffs, unimpressed, "the fuck are you doing here, bitch?" He slurred, leaning closer.

The moment you heard him call her a bitch, you immediately stood up, as the both of them got heated, fast, you know sevika doesn't back down from a fight for anyone, especially a sloppy moyherfucker like him who runs his stupid mouth

You spotted him getting closer and raiding his hand at her, no, you weren't going to have tonight end up blood spilt, as hot as that'd be, you wanted your date to be perfect

Just before he could even punch your Sevika, you were able to get in between them fast, his hand hitting hard on your check as you fell against her front

She stared at you with wide eyes, and raged at the guy

She knew you didn't want her fighting anyone on your date, but that set her off

The pain stung as you knew it was gonna bruise, fuck, but you wanted to make sure it wasn't always her getting the first hit

He ended up on the floor, passed out fast

Sevika had you in her arms, kissing you rough, you tasted blood, it was everything, she never looked more beautiful as she stared at you with so much love

"I'm gonna treat you so good, baby."

Tonight was far from over

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.

Synopsis: Sukuna’s talking to his therapist in jail about you. He’s incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.

An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.

Session one.

His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.

He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapist’s credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukuna’s crimes.

Normally, the therapist wouldn’t read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna… how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.

He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.

Simple counseling wasn’t going to “fix” a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.

Sukuna could taste the therapist’s fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. “You don’t even want to try to fix me, do you?” He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel bad~”

The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. “I can’t fix anyone… Counseling isn’t about fixing.. It’s about moving forward and learning how to live.”

“Bullshit.” Sukuna spits with shrug. “Counseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that you’re going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?”

The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. “Our past can help us navigate to a better future.” He murmured out weakly.

Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. “You’re a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? I’ll tell you.”

After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, “You know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.”

“I think that’s when my ‘type’ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.” Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.

“Y/n?” The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.

Sukuna’s red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. “Say her name again, and I’ll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers won’t be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.”

The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but he’s frozen in fear.

“We’ll call her mouse.” Sukuna goes on as if he didn’t just threaten the poor guy’s life in brutal detail.

“Mouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent — only answering me with simple head gestures.” He laughs again, lying his head back further as he’s replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.

“I can’t exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasn’t in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldn’t talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.”

The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesn’t feel safe in this session, and he doesn’t trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.

“Looked at you like what?” The therapist dared to ask.

Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. “She looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes… were so big and round. Even though she didn’t talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.”

The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.

The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.

“I bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.” Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, “I remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.”

The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victim’s blood.

-ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ

His victim’s - their deaths were like an homage to you.

“Were the kids ever… assholes to mouse?”

Sukuna’s jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapist’s questions… thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.

“They called her weird for not talking.” Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. “Now look at who can’t talk.”

Sukuna’s first victim. He didn’t start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.

He held a kid down to the teacher’s in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldn’t scream or cry for help, or else he’d risk ripping the flesh on his lips.

The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.

“Did mouse witness you do that?” The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukuna’s narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.

“No. Why would I scare her like that?” Sukuna’s voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.

The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. “Scare? No.. no, I thought you’d maybe just show off what you did for her.”

“I’m not the type to show off.” Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if that’s the first time Sukuna’s lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.

“Anyways, I wore her down over the years. She didn’t speak to me until we were in sixth grade.” An eerie smile curls on Sukuna’s lip. “I can still remember her first word to me and how she said it…”

The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.

Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. “Her first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.”

Bang! Bang Bang!

The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.

“Ryomen! Your time is up!” The officer yelled on the other side of the door.

“Pity. I was beginning to have fun.” Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. “See you next week, doc.”

[whumpster-fire]

Oh boy okay I think my smallest / least known fave is Ambersun (formerly known as Albion, changed because of how many other bands have the same name), and I am begging everyone to listen to this band because seriously it is so good.

Summary: it's a power metal band which I think may be basically a one man show plus various guest vocalists I'm not sure, which does story-based concept albums based on different works of fiction. Possibly qualifies as Rock Operas? Anyway I love "fandom music" and this is one of my all time favorites even though two of the albums are for "I don't even go here" fandoms and the other is for a book I found through the music, because the sound is awesome, the lyrics are awesome, and you can just hear the passion put into them.

I'm now going to post a bunch of lyrics under the cut please please please listen to these songs. Actually just listen to the albums in order, this is one of those bands where the songs are already good as standalones but you really need to listen to the full album to get the full experience.

We are lost, in an endless night, the sun drained from our eyes

Gone, when we sold our lives to the plague that stole the sky

"Life Before Death," from The Poison Skies

Erased and they don't care, but you would still be here if only you'd stayed, been mine only mine

It's so unfair to leave me, the tribe I formed deceived me, but now I'll fight in your name

There's no way to hide from their stare,

I still feel their eyes everywhere

And the hatred that clouds all their minds, it hides the truth of it all

"Out In the Wilds" from The Poison Skies

The one to keep the noble name, to carry all their hopes and dreams, a future severed when one night became forever

"Run" from The Poison Skies. This. Freaking. Song. Has changed me. "Run" is a banger on its own, but reading The Afflicted and reaching the scene this song is about made it so much better and also slightly painful. Which can be said about the entirety of The Poison Skies but this song especially, because the entire song is a character high on adrenaline, deluding himself into believing he can actually pull off the promise he made to his friends that he was going to survive the badass self-sacrificing stunt he was pulling. Also I have no idea how I have not gotten a speeding ticket while playing this in the car yet.

Visions that I can't erase, every time I see her face,

She reminds me of how I never tried

Now I watch us as we fall, can't help anyone at all,

Why did I alone survive?

Survivor's Guilt!

"Survivor's Guilt" from The Poison Skies

This worthless weapon symbolizes who I am

Remaining silent, offer no resistance,

And I become the iron mask

"Disappear" from The Poison Skies

Survive one last dance through the wind and the cold,

We can't change our stories, but they still can be told

"Snow" from The Poison Skies

Sealed in cryogenic cold, I'll dive into the dark, reanimate your soul

Together we will rise up hand in hand this blackened night

"Morning" from The Day the Night Slept

I'll burn in the night, I'll light up the sky, you'll see,

And I'll be the Scorpion's Fire!

"The Scorpion's Fire" from The Day the Night Slept

Lost in the night, but still he survives

I'll tear apart time so his heart never dies

"Asriel Must Be Saved" from Buried Souls. Yes this is exactly what it sounds like from the title. A 15 minute musical fix fic about finding a way of saving Asriel Dreemur from Undertale with some sort of timeline fuckery I don't understand because I haven't played the game. And it's glorious.

Mighty wheels will turn again, flames of faith ignite

Chase the legend of the sun, and bathe our world in light

"Bring Back the Sun," currently a single release.

enough about taylor swift already. reblog and tag the smallest, least known artist you listen to

[creamflix]

flix my love my darling what if we combined jjk and hsr or is this too delusional

LUST FOR LIFE! — jjk x female reader x hsr

18+ content, minors and blank blogs do not interact. recurring themes of: established relationship, marathon sex, slight cnc, overstimulation, mind-break, threesomes, degrading, praise, p in v sex. sex toys, cucking, voyeurism, body worship, switch dynamics, oral (m. receiving). guided sex. featuring x reader pairings of: toji fushiguro & sampo koski, gojo satoru & aventurine, choso kamo & dan heng, nanami kento & veritas ratio, and (heinen era) ryomen sukuna & blade

jelli my love you got me slobbering all over the screen with your request. i would have written more but i wanted to include multiple pairings so it ended up as drabbles instead ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) i hope you like these <3 requests are still open for those who are interested, just send in an ask. 

— general masterlist ☆

TOJI FUSHIGURO AND SAMPO KOSKI — BUSINESS DEALS!

toji had a habit of turning things up a notch, but this? this was a different league altogether. 

when you first saw sampo koski at your doorstep, looking like trouble in an expensive coat with a shit-eating grin, you thought it was just one of toji's stupid pranks.

“brought reinforcements,” toji had said, voice dripping with smug amusement. sampo, ever the showman, swept into the room like he owned it, opening a sleek case filled with an impressive lineup of toys. your face burned, mortification clashing with a thrill you couldn’t deny.

and now? god, you were wrecked. sprawled out on the bed, legs trembling, body hypersensitive, and your mind a haze of overstimulation. sampo’s laugh was low and teasing, his voice dripping with condescension. “look at you, so eager to thank us for every little thing. who’s my favorite little client, huh?”

toji’s hand, firm and warm, pressed on your lower back, pinning you down as he leaned close to your ear. “ye got a lotttta stamina, babe, but you don’t think we’re stoppin' now, do ya?”

every whimper, every moan that escaped your lips only fueled their sadistic amusement. sampo alternated between cruel, taunting comments and offering you praise that made your head spin, while toji took full advantage of your pliant state, whispering filthy things about how good you looked falling apart for them.

it was endless, round after round, with every toy from sampo’s collection coming into play. the overwhelming sensations had you slurring broken words of gratitude and sobbing from the sheer intensity, unable to think, just feel.

“we might have to invest in more,” sampo mused, twirling a dildo in his hand like it was a business proposition. “our sweet little thing here seems to have a taste for luxury.”

toji laughed, a dark and throaty sound. “oh, don’t worry, she’ll take everythin' we give her. wouldn’t want her to get spoiled though… unless you like bein' spoiled, baby?”

you could barely respond, too lost in the haze, but the smirk they exchanged promised that your torment — and pleasure — was far from over.

GOJO SATORU & AVENTURINE — ALL IN!

“a brother from another mother,” gojo had said with that usual mischievous grin, clapping aventurine on the shoulder like they weren’t both trouble incarnate. aventurine, all sharp smiles and unnerving eyes, had leaned in, his sandy-blond hair catching the light, and said, “nice to meet you, sweetheart. gojo’s told me allll about you. every. single. thing.”

you didn’t know if it was the way aventurine’s voice dripped with something wicked or the way gojo gave him a knowing smirk, but you had a feeling this meeting wasn’t going to stay innocent for long. and god, were you right.

now? now you were caught between them, your senses obliterated, every nerve ending alight. aventurine’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing your dazed eyes to meet his. “think you can handle another round, sweetheart? satoru says you’re good for it, but I’d like to see for myself.”

“she’s better than good,” gojo cut in, his tone smug as his hand trailed down your side, igniting shivers in its wake. “but let’s make this fun — wanna bet how long it takes before she’s begging again?”

aventurine’s grin widened, all teeth and danger. “oh, you’re on. but let’s not stop there. how about we bet on how many times she screams my name?”

you were barely holding it together, their words tangling in your hazy mind as their hands and mouths worked you over. every move was calculated, every kiss, every thrust a competition to see who could unravel you faster.

aventurine was smooth and precise, his calculated touches finding every spot that made you see stars, while gojo was relentless, teasing and taunting as he pushed you to your limits. they coordinated like they’d done this a hundred times before, one filling the spaces where the other left off, leaving you no room to recover.

“look at her,” aventurine said, his voice a low purr as he watched your trembling form. “a little overwhelmed, aren’t you, sweetheart? don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. maybe.”

“nah,” gojo chimed in, his grin never faltering. “she loves it. just look at how she’s clinging to us — like she doesn’t want it to end.”

you could barely respond, lost in the pleasure as their playful banter became background noise to the overwhelming sensations. every sound you made, every time your body betrayed you, only fueled their competitive fire.

“i think that’s my point,” aventurine declared triumphantly when you screamed his name, your voice cracking from the intensity.

“oh, don’t get cocky,” gojo shot back, his tone light but his actions anything but. “we’re just getting started.”

and you? you couldn’t even protest. not that you wanted to. you were here to enjoy the ride, and with these two, it was shaping up to be the wildest ride of your life.

CHOSO KAMO & DAN HENG — SOCIALLY FUCKED ANXIOUS!

choso had always been your sweet, reserved boyfriend — the type who’d spend hours listening to you, loving you with a quiet devotion that melted your heart. so when he mentioned he was making friends, especially someone like dan heng, you couldn’t have been prouder.

but this? this was unexpected.

dan heng, all elegance and composure, was seated next to choso, his blue eyes studying you with a mix of intrigue and desire that sent a shiver down your spine. choso, your shy, anxious boyfriend, was the one who suggested it. his voice soft but firm, his dark eyes burning with an intensity you didn’t know he had. “only if you want to,” he murmured, his hand holding yours with that same gentle warmth you’d always known.

and now here you were, sandwiched between them, their lips worshipping every inch of you. dan heng’s kisses were slow, deliberate, trailing down your body with reverence, while choso stayed closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he murmured sweet reassurances.

“you’re so beautiful,” dan heng said softly, his voice like silk, as his hands mapped your curves.

choso nodded, his voice thick with adoration. “perfect. always perfect.”

but their tenderness didn’t last. it wasn’t long before patience gave way to raw hunger. dan heng’s composure cracked first, his movements becoming urgent as he gripped your hips, his kisses turning into bites that left you gasping. choso followed suit, his shyness replaced by a desperation you’d only seen glimpses of before, his hands firm as they guided you exactly where he wanted.

their rhythm was relentless, their coordination uncanny as they pushed you to multiple orgasms over and over again. choso’s soft murmurs of praise contrasted with dan heng’s deep, rumbling groans, the combination leaving you breathless and shaking.

“you can take it,” dan heng growled, his usual calm voice tinged with something feral as he watched you writhe between them.

“you’re doing so good for us,” choso added, his tone still laced with love, even as his thrusts grew rougher, more insistent.

you couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, your body overwhelmed by their touch, their intensity. all you could do was surrender, grateful for every moment, every sensation.

as the night blurred into a haze of pleasure, one thought lingered in your mind: you were so glad choso had stepped out of his comfort zone. if this was what friendship brought, you were more than happy to let him keep making new ones.

NANAMI KENTO & VERITAS RATIO — LESSON IN RELIEF!

nanami had always spoken highly of veritas ratio, his tone fond yet full of respect whenever his name came up. “a genius,” he would say, “but insufferably eccentric.” still, he admired ratio’s dedication to teaching and his unmatched intellect, and when his best friend visited, nanami insisted on inviting him to stay at your home.

ratio was a sight to behold — his wavy violet hair fell over one eye, the other catching you with its piercing, dual-toned gaze. he was polite, almost reserved, but the sharpness in his eyes betrayed his mind at work, constantly analyzing, constantly thinking.

you hadn’t expected the night to turn this way.

“she’s yours for the evening,” nanami had said, his voice calm, almost businesslike, as though he were discussing dinner plans instead of offering you up to his best friend. “i know how taxing your work is, ratio. consider it my way of thanking you for all the years of friendship.”

ratio hadn’t needed to be asked twice. his demeanor shifted as he approached you, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. “a most generous gift, nanami,” he said, his tone smooth, his lips curling into a small, amused smile. “i promise to make the most of it.”

you had barely registered the words before ratio’s hands were on you, firm yet measured, like he was solving a complex problem with precision. his lips brushed against your neck, his breath hot as he murmured, “so eager to help, aren’t you? a willing participant in your husband’s… generosity.”

nanami watched, seated nearby with a glass of whiskey in hand, his expression composed but his eyes betraying a flicker of satisfaction. “don’t go too easy on her, ratio. she can handle more than she lets on.”

ratio chuckled, low and dark, as his hands roamed your body. “oh, i don’t intend to.”

he wasn’t gentle — not entirely. his movements were calculated, his touch almost clinical at first, but it didn’t take long for his restraint to unravel. his words came fast, sharp, like a lecture, each one making you tremble under his control.

“you’re quite the distraction,” he mused, his voice edged with amusement. “no wonder nanami looks so content these days. it seems i underestimated just how… accommodating you are.”

you barely heard nanami’s low chuckle over your own gasps and moans, your body responding to ratio’s relentless attention. his strength surprised you, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed you past every limit you thought you had.

“good girl,” ratio praised, his voice a mix of condescension and admiration as he watched you fall apart. “you’re learning quickly. maybe there’s hope for the future generation after all.”

“she’s an excellent student,” nanami added, his tone warm with pride. “but she’s all yours for now, ratio. don’t hold back.”

and ratio didn’t. by the end of the night, you were utterly spent, every nerve in your body alight, your mind foggy with exhaustion and satisfaction. as you lay there, caught between them, you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have a husband so generous — and a man like ratio to appreciate the gift.

RYOMEN SUKUNA & BLADE — A LORD’S DECREE!

sukuna was as cruel as he was powerful, a lord whose sadistic streak ran deep. you had earned your title as his consort, climbing from the ranks of his concubines, yet even now, his affection came wrapped in torment. his amusement at your expense was a constant reminder of his dominion over you.

tonight was no exception.

“you’ll honor my general,” sukuna commanded, his voice a rumble of authority as he reclined on his throne, sharp eyes watching you like a predator savoring its prey. his lips curved into a smirk, his four arms resting lazily, exuding dominance.

before you stood blade, the general who had delivered yet another victory in sukuna’s name. he was imposing, with dark blue hair tipped in crimson, his red eyes sharp and unyielding. the bandages on his body only added to his aura, a testament to his countless battles.

“kneel,” sukuna ordered, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

you obeyed, trembling but determined not to falter under your lord’s gaze. blade remained stoic, his expression unreadable as you lowered yourself before him.

“use that mouth of yours well,” sukuna drawled, leaning forward slightly, his smirk deepening. “but remember, pet, blade knows better than to take liberties. isn't that right, general?”

blade’s deep voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. “of course, my lord. your word is absolute.”

you began, your movements tentative at first, the weight of sukuna’s gaze a constant pressure. blade’s restraint was palpable, his body tense as you worked, every sound you elicited from him controlled, calculated.

“good,” sukuna murmured, his voice dripping with sadistic satisfaction. “you should feel honored, blade. not everyone gets to enjoy my consort’s talents.”

blade’s only response was a low grunt, his eyes flickering to sukuna briefly before returning to you. his self-control was admirable, but you could sense the strain, the effort it took for him to abide by sukuna’s decree.

“don’t get greedy,” sukuna warned, his tone sharp as a blade. “you know the consequences if you so much as think about taking more.”

blade’s voice was a strained rasp. “i wouldn’t dare, my lord.”

sukuna chuckled darkly, his amusement clear as he watched the scene unfold. “good. remember your place, general.”

you could feel your own limits approaching, the intensity of the situation overwhelming, but sukuna’s laughter reminded you that this was as much a test for you as it was for blade.

“don’t stop now, pet,” sukuna said, his grin widening. “you wouldn’t want me to think you’re slacking, would you?”

you shook your head weakly, redoubling your efforts despite the ache in your jaw, the humiliation of it all only fueling sukuna’s sadistic pleasure.

when it was finally over, blade stepped back, his expression unreadable, though you could see the faintest flicker of gratitude in his eyes. sukuna, meanwhile, looked utterly pleased, his laughter echoing through the chamber.

“a celebration worthy of my general,” sukuna declared, his tone mocking. “well done, pet. perhaps you are worthy of your title after all.”

you swallowed hard, your body trembling as you knelt before him, his cruel gaze still heavy on you. being sukuna’s consort meant enduring his games, his punishments, and his praise — if it could even be called that.

and yet, you wouldn’t dare question your place by his side.

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[honey-on-your-tongue]

heyyy I was wondering if you could do pornstar! Logan x pornstar! reader, where they're doing a scene together and Logan's being a little more gentle with her and cooing at her and calling her sweet things because she's so blissed out by him fucking her so good. (the reader hasn't been fucked that good in a while) and it ends with them going out or becoming fwb idk.

this is prob the most explicit I've requested so I totally understand if you don't wanna do it, also feel free to take your time thxx

Omg I LOVED this idea!!! I was so inspired ughhh I want this man so baaaad

You have the perfect performance. Perfectly practiced moans, perfectly practiced expressions. You've got it all down, from the curl of your toes to the elegant arch of your back and the tilt of your head against the pillows.

You expect this new shoot to go the same. The usual age-gap thing, you innocent-looking vixen all-too-willing to let an older man fuck you.

You've never filmed with Logan before, but you've seen him around. And you've seen some of his videos.

At least he's hot and well endowed, you think as the sex scene comes up. The makeup artist fixes your makeup some and then you're sent to lie on the bed.

You can feel Logan's eyes on you as you position yourself on the bed. You glance over at him and he gives you a small grin, as if he knows something you don't.

At first, you're expecting the usual. Men that just fuck you like you're a toy and not caring for your pleasure.

But the moment Logan's hands are on you, you can tell it's going to be different.

His fingers trace your body like he's exploring precious, untouched terrain. Like he sees you.

The way he touches you and the way he looks at you like you're some precious thing has you plenty worked up.

His hand moves between your thighs, his breathing heavy. His fingers spread your folds and he groans, leaning down to lick at your entrance.

You shudder, a small gasp leaving you. You're shocked, amazed, exhilarated. Something about this is different—something about him is different.

You actually enjoy yourself. You don't have to fake anything. Every moan that leaves your lips is coerced by him and his talented tongue and fingers.

By the time the scene moves on to the actual sex, you're soaked and ready for him. And more than that, you're eager.

Logan holds your gaze as he slips his hard cock into you slowly. You gasp, he grunts.

“Fuck. So tight,” he says lowly as he starts thrusting.

He gives slow, long, deep strokes that almost feel like torture. He lets you feel every fucking inch of him with each thrust.

It feels so good that you almost forget about the cameras and the microphones and the crew that's recording and watching.

It feels so good that you allow yourself to get lost in the moment and you just feel it all.

You're moaning, hands grabbing onto his shoulders with a fierce grip as you try your best to remember the script. But no, you're too out of it. So Logan takes over.

“Yeah, baby, I know.” He chuckles as he grabs your leg and wraps it around his waist so he can fuck you deeper. “I know you like my cock in you, you ain't gotta say it.”

You whine, nails digging into his skin. “Fuck!” you squeal, words barely understandable through the mewls of ecstasy you let out.

“Such a good girl, hm? So obedient f’r me.”

You gasp, body trembling.

He smirks. “Can you say my name f’r me, darling? Hm?”

You mumble incoherently, remembering your lines from somewhere deep in your mind. You just can't say them. Literally. He's fucking you dumb.

“C'mon, baby, you can do better than that,” Logan taunts, kissing your neck. “Do better.”

You whimper, gasping, struggling to say the simple word you know he's wanting to hear.

He grabs your leg and moves it from around his waist to rest on his shoulder. He stops fucking you and lets you catch your breath. “Say it, bub.”

You meet his gaze through half-lidded eyes and say, “Daddy.” You're surprised at how hoarse your voice is. How long has he been fucking you for? It feels like it'll never be enough.

“Atta girl.” He grins, his cock twitching in you when he takes in the expression on your face. He starts fucking you again, harder and deeper this time, with more intention.

You're gasping, moaning, blubbering. And Logan fucks you harder.

You can feel that tight coil in your womb as the pleasure grows and spreads and threatens to take you over.

One of Logan's enormous hands comes down on top of your womb and he presses down. “I'm right in here. Can you feel me? Can you feel my cock so deep in this pretty cunt of yours?”

And that's it. That's all it takes for you to come on his cock. Your mind goes blank and you see stars.

Fuck the elegant arch of your back and the carefully practiced curl of your toes. Fuck the expressions you're supposed to make. You lose it. Your orgasm is messy and needy and intense and raw, and you love it.

By the time you come back to, Logan's already pulled out and come on your thighs, as per the script. He's already put on his robe and is drinking some water.

You sit up, body sore and exhausted, and the assistants are quick to help you into your robe and hand you some water.

You're still trying to get your bearings when Logan walks over to you. He smiles down at you as you sit on the edge of the bed and he holds out a piece of paper.

You take it. It has his number on it.

“’f you ever want a proper fuck again, bub, just call me up.”

---

Blog masterlist

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Heyoooo, i just read your say it louder and im in love with that so much like holy, so i was wondering if you could make something kinda similar or something? like maybe logans chasing reader because she stole his cigars and they have a cute moment or something along those lines, maybe end a bit with or with smut? thanks so much babes!

Mine Now | DOFP!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Warnings: Primal!Logan, Scent Tracking, Shotgunning His Cigar, Marking, Implied Smut, Reader is a Mutant who has invisibility, Enemies to Lovers because I’m a sucker for pain, Takes place at the very end of DOPF when Logan comes back to the future, Pain Kink, Breathing Play, Choking, Claws come out – I repeat the claws come out,

Rating: R – No Minors

Word Count: 4.5K

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for your request! This was a blast to write and honestly? It gave me a good excuse to write for DOFP!Logan! I adore you! 😊 Also completely unrelated side note….you did say you wanted smut, right??? Because I may, or may not, have spaced you said cutesy and went right to horny.

To be tagged in any future work of mine, please fill this out.

“Hank, have you seen her?” Logan asks, his voice layered with annoyance. You couldn’t help but silently snicker as you watched his brow crease, his nose twitch with frustration, his finger rapping at his side impatiently. The way his jaw ticked as Hank narrowed his own eyes at him made it impossible to hold your laughter, even when you were currently pressed up against the wall – a clear view of the situation going down. You pulled your lip between your teeth as you homed in on Logan’s features, eyes glimmering with rage. It was such a beautiful sight to see, one you have been dreaming of for months. Though you’d never openly admit it, everyone knew, all except him. You had to make the chase worth his while.

Logan Howlett is a force to be reckoned with, everyone told you that. When Charles and Eric first recruited you to teach with them in New York – you thought it was a joke, a cruel one at that. Living paycheck to paycheck in a hole in the wall Hell’s Kitchen apartment, dealing with constantly screaming and fighting from your neighbors, it wasn’t where you wanted to be. You were a survivor, you could adapt to anything, but after what you had experienced, you needed a fresh start. Working at a local diner, making shit for tips wasn’t ideal, but it was enough to help you save to leave. Where would you go prior to this? You had no idea, but someplace that experiences winter – you always loved the snow. But alas, that dreary November day a few years ago changed everything; It changed you. Meeting Logan on your first day told you everything you needed to know about him – he refuses to get close to anyone, you wanted to break that.

It's been three years since you first met Logan, two since you found yourself thinking he was cute, a year since you felt yourself falling for him, and six months since you started the cat and mouse chase. At first with how standoffish Logan was to you, you started to resent him. A year it took before that all fell to the wayside; Your feelings had shifted when you found him outside one night, crying as he smoked his cigar. Of course, your mutation left you able to turn invisible, able to watch him, without him knowing you were there. Through the heavy rain your smell was masked, he couldn’t tell you were there. But it made you feel closer to him; He wasn’t some robot who didn’t have emotions. He felt them too strong, which is why when he started to slip back into his mind, he pulled away. Being over 200 years old meant he saw some shit, lost people he loved, it took a toll on him after a while. That day forward you stopped keeping your distance, but instead made the effort to be near him, to show him you weren’t going anywhere.

Slowly you noticed how Logan started to open up to you, telling you stories of when he was young, his first mission with the X-Men. You got to learn a lot about The Wolverine, and come to find out he wasn’t a hard ass – he was sincere, doting, downright admirable. What he dealt with in his years fucked him up horribly to where he didn’t trust people easily – but it didn’t make him less. He always pushed forward and strove for success, to survive. He wouldn’t classify himself as a hero, but he was to you, and he deserved to know. Logan found himself trusting you easily after a year, his lonely nights stuck in his own head turned into game nights with you, strolls through the garden, getting a drink at the bar downtown. He could still be himself, but not have to carry the baggage by himself all the time. Falling hopelessly in love with him was inevitable, but also impossible. Nothing more could happen between the two of you and you knew that – but there was still a flicker of hope in your mind that wouldn’t quiet down. Especially with how flirty Logan had become with you.

 Usually, he was like this with Jean and Storm, taking it up a notch with them so he could have the last retort. To say he wasn’t a ladies’ man was a lie, he could pull anyone he wanted to. To Logan it was a game, seeing how flustered he could make him teammates – and he loved to win. With you it was different – it wasn’t low growls and light touching on your arms, no, it was more. At first to started off to be resting his chin on your shoulder, letting his breath stroke the column of your neck. Slowly it moved out to touches; Holding your waist from behind, rubbing his large hands over your lower stomach, slipping his hands under your shirt to caress your hip. Over the last few weeks though, he upgraded to holding your face, running his calloused thumb across your bottom lip, stealing forehead and cheek kisses before heading out. Rogue and Kitty that you two were dating, even Bobby got in on it – but when you stated you weren’t everyone looked at you like you had six heads.

“No Logan, I have not.” Hank let his eyes pan to where you were hiding as Logan turned away for a moment, giving you a small wink as he played along. After all, this was his idea – well, his and Xavier’s. You had overheard a conversation about how Logan’s cigar smell had been wafting into their classroom’s lately – distracting everyone as Logan taught. Charles had the bright idea for you to nab them and hold them hostage, until Logan learned his lesson. You on the other hand, were far too gone to do that. Instead you decided to take the cigars, but make a game out of it. Little post it notes with clues on where you were hiding, you stored them all over his bedroom and classroom, thanks to Scott. Ever since Jean told you just how primal Logan could get, how good of a tracker he was, you wanted to test it out for yourself. What better way than take the one thing he cannot live without? “What happened this time?”

Logan huffed as he ran both of his hands down his face, coming dangerously close to propping his hip against your body. You had to shuffle slightly as he leaned into the wall, letting his head bounce off the wood a few good times. “Little shit stole my box of cigars.” He looked exhausted, frustrated, and downright sexy. Seeing how lost and irritable he was without them made you smirk, causing you to bite your lip harder to suppress a whimper. You noticed how Logan’s ear perked up as you gulped, his head turning softly. Hank noticed this almost immediately and replied with a whooping laugh.  “Ha!” You sighed inaudibly as you silently thanked Hank, knowing he used his booming voice to mask your sounds. Holding one of his hands up to Logan, he snickered as he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry that was cruel of me. What I meant to say is, that’s funny.” Hank let out a small chortle at Logan’s distain, being met with a flash of a middle finger, and claw too.  “Thanks, asshole,” Logan huffed as he pushed himself off of the wall, running his hand through his hair.

You watched him intently, thanking whoever was listening for making you have the power of invisibility. Being able to listen to everything going down, while Logan has no idea you’re here, made you feel powerful. You heard talks about how your power could be useful, but ultimately not threatening; Now, you’d beg to differ. Though you grew tiresome of the chase, being a fly on the wall versus a real player. It was fun the first two hours this started, but encroaching on hour six – the school clearing out and the sun almost set on the horizon, you grew slightly bored. “Have you tried the library? She likes to hide there.” Hank let out without hesitancy, making your eyes grow wide. It was like an aha moment for you, choosing the most likely place for last. Earlier it was too crowded, people would know you were there the second Logan came looking for you. But now with the young mutants either outside or in the city due to the upcoming weekend, you knew it would be vacant.

“I know her all too well, Hank. That’s the first place I looked.” Hearing Logan say that made your heart flutter, made you feel special that he knew you so well. A strong sigh left your lips as Hank coughed, dreamily staring at Logan as you started to walk backwards. Losing your invisibility for a moment, you stood a few feet behind Logan, walking towards the grand staircase that took you to the library. Waving at Hank, you motioned for it as you smirked, causing Hank to laugh. “You sure?” He asked, nodding behind Logan. As you stood closer to the staircase, you noticed how Logan was sniffing the air – his body growing tense as he spun around. It’s when he laid his eyes upon you that you knew he was fed up. It wasn’t the primal growl and heavy breathing that got to you, but the way his hazel eyes went from green to black in a split section, his chest heaving as he stared at you. “Oh shit,” was all you managed to let out as you turned invisible again, running up the stairs.

Everything was a blur to you, running as fast as your body could take you. Three flights to get where you needed to go seemed like forever, when you were being chased by The Wolverine. He had super human speed, a great nose for sniffing things out, he was at the advantage whilst you were at a disadvantage. Even with scent masking, now that you started to sweat it would make you more obvious, especially when the library was empty. Huffing and puffing as you managed two steps at a time, you refused to look back. But you could hear the stomps of Logan’s boots, clearly taking three steps to match you. Silently you prayed to whoever was listening, to get you to the library safe and sound before Logan got you. The last thing you wanted was for him to pin you to the stairs so everyone could see, that was too on the nose.

Reaching the top step of the library, you managed to sway your way through the wooden chairs and tables, giggling to yourself as you were halfway across the room. Due to the grand nature of the library, especially being two floors, it gave you so many good hiding spots. A circular room to see everything, yet hide in plain sight. As you made it over to the spiral staircase for the second level, you had noticed Logan standing at the entrance of the library, huffing and puffing. It made you snort, seeing how riled up he was. You had to admit, it was sexy to see how pissed off he was, causing a fresh wave of your arousal to coat your panties. Logan seemed to have taken note as he sniffed the air, his eyes cutting across the room straight to yours. “Come on out princess,” he growled, flexing his hands at his side. Slowly you crept up the metal staircase for the second level, taking one step at a time to not elicit any sounds. You let your breathing relax, slowing your heart rate as you kept calm, not needing to give yourself away. But Logan could sense you, eyeing the staircase with every move you made. “I got you now.”

A devilish grin fought to claim his mouth as he pounced over the tables, running on all fours as he landed right at the bottom of the staircase. You managed to get all the way up and around, leaving to the right. Multiple aisles of books covered upstairs, as well as the walls, each window let in the dusk light – showing dust particles roaming the air. Your tell-tale shimmer of invisibility was caught in the light a few times, but Logan was too lost to notice. Finding your perfect hiding spot away from prying eyes, you slotted yourself against the endcap of Psychology of Mutants, knowing no one reads these. You could feel the stagnant beating of your heart at times, wondering if it was due to fear or the thrill of the chase. Maybe it was the aspect of it being bittersweet as well; A years long chase with Logan finally reaching its peak. You knew there would never be going back from this, and that was okay. Stealing his cigars wasn’t the endgame, it was only the beginning.

“You can’t hide forever you know,” Logan snarled as he reached the top of the landing, huffing as he eyed every shelf. You could see him, nor did you want to, hoping to God he chose to head left instead of right. Alas you were sorely mistaken as his heavy steps started to echo right, causing you to curse under your breath. SNIKT, you heard the metallic sound echoing through the room, but also your mind, causing you to whimper. Logan had unsheathed his claws, holding them out. The idea of him using the claws on you, pinning you down with them, holding them against your neck made your body run hot, your arousal heightening as the thoughts ran rampant through your mind. “I will catch you.” It was not a threat but a fact, Logan was not kidding anymore. The animal inside of him was taking over, leaving the Logan you knew behind. This was all caused because you pushed him to the point of no return, and you fucking loved it. The reverberation of his claws against the wooden shelves made you shudder, knowing how close he was getting now.

Biting down hard on your lip, you placed your hand over your mouth, trying to regain control of your breathing. Being right across from the last window on the right didn’t do you any good, especially with the beam of light falling through. If you moved even a millimeter, you were going to be made. It’s then when you opened your eyes to pan to your left that you saw his shadow encroaching on you, his stance wide as his claws were pointed at the ground. Each gruff huff he let out made your eyes roll back, finding it harder and harder to keep yourself hidden. You couldn’t look away from him either, you needed to watch him; How the sweat beaded at his hairline, how his little tufts of hair were wild from pulling at them, how his snarl got more animalistic the longer he tried to look for you. “Where did you go?” You couldn’t describe how Logan sounded in that moment; Primal and animalistic do not even begin to crest.

You focused too much on his tone, completely forgetting your watchful eye on him. When you glanced back after trying to calm yourself, you noticed the 6’2 Wolverine was no longer walking his way towards the aisles but vanished into thin air. Not knowing where he was, made your heart rate skyrocket – panic ensuing all over your body. Goosebumps arose across your skin as you pondered where he could be, afraid to move in case he was lurking close to you. Maybe he went off to the left instead, leaving you by yourself to escape. It would make sense, considering how you heard the creaking of the floorboards on the opposite side now. Letting out a concealed breath, you slowly moved away from the end cap of the shelf, leaving your back exposed. You knew it was a mistake when the hot, stifling air of the closed space became ice cold, a shiver falling down your spine. The sun shifted away in that moment, blanketing the area in darkness, complete with only a sliver of light, not even to cast shadows. The second your back was exposed; All hell broke loose.

Two strong hands grabbed hold of your hips, pulling you back into a solid form. The yelp you let out was loud enough to echo, but not loud enough to raise suspicion. The strain on your powers had gotten to be too much, slowly slipping back into being visible. You huffed out as your back connected with his chest, your hands finding purchase on his muscular forearms. “There you are little mouse.” He snickered in your ear, pressing his nose to the pulse point of your neck. Logan deeply inhaled at the vein, his teeth barring to nip at your exposed shoulder. It felt good to have his mouth on you, to have him seemingly obsessed with your scent. After all, it is what gave you away. Whimpering out, you dug your nails into Logan’s arm, feeling the reverberation of his snarl through your body. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move – you were a lost cause. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

Logan was mocking you at this point, purposely being a little shit to mimic how you have been with him. When it came to his cigars, he wasn’t fucking around. But when he knew it was you who took them, well he wasn’t going to let you live this down. Logan moved from behind you, but kept his hands grasping your flesh. Moving to the side, he pressed your back against the end cap again, bringing you back to your original position. His right hand remained on your hip as his left grasped your neck, pressing against your pulse point, feeling the thrum of blood on your veins. The edges of your vision began to go fuzzy due to the restricted blood flow, but you didn’t care. Logan was putting you right in your place, and you were obeying so well for him. “I believe you have something of mine,” he murmured; His prominent nose pressing harshly against your cheek. The warmth of his breath on your skin, mixed with the cold drag of his claws against your skin made you shiver, loving how it felt too much. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You laughed out, clearly laced with thrill.

Logan didn’t take too kindly to you playing dumb, the tick in his jaw spoke measures. His grip on your neck was heavier than before, using his full weight to restrict your blood flow quicker, your vision developing black dots. “Oh, you don’t?” The challenged in his voice said all you needed to know – he was fucking desperate. There was no hiding it now, he needed you – not his cigars, but you. Gulping down against his large hand, you felt the press of his claws against the back of your neck, pushing through the wood of the bookshelf to lock you in place. He would never intentionally draw blood, or hurt you, but he knew this was your deepest fantasy, all thanks to Jean relaying it. His lips were inches from your ear as he chuckled darkly, groaning out against the flesh. “Do I need to jog your memory?” You shouldn’t have been as turned on by that as you were. Your knees buckled slightly as you almost fell, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Logan took advantage of your eyes being closed to pull his hand away from your hip. The loss of touch made you whine, but quickly you were quieted by his roughened tugs. Grabbing at the edge of your tank top, Logan ran his claws through the fabric to create slits, ripping them open just as easily. Looking down at your jeans, he could see the bulge in your pocket – where you had hidden a few of his cigars. A huff of relief fell from his parted lips as she cut your pocket open, letting them fall right into his hand. He mimicked your hiding and shoved them into his own pocket, moving on to the next. The cool breeze against your exposed skin made you quickly heat up; Logan using his claws on you made you lose your fucking mind. He repeated his efforts with your other side, making matching holes in his jeans and shirt, not caring anymore.

It was as the last few cigars rolled out of your pocket that Logan pulled back, his heavy body heat no longer suffocating you. The contact was missed, causing you to pout slightly. “Boo hoo hoo,” Logan mocked as he watched you, walking backwards to push his back against the window. The sill right below it was begging him to sit, so he took advantage of it. Reaching into his left pocket, Logan pulled out his Zippo lighter – flicking it against his pants to ignite the flame. It was intoxicating watching him, how effortlessly fluid his motions were. Biting your cheek, you watched him intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He pulled out the precut cigar from his pocket and pushed it between his lips, favoring his left side for it to rest between his teeth. Lighting the end until the cherry burned bright, he took a few quick puffs, blowing the smoke out in a cloud around him.

Your eyes could not pull away from him even if you tried, it was nearly impossible. The way he moved was like silk through the wind, so effortless and elegant; He knew he was hot like this. Taking another quick drag, Logan let the smoke fall from his lips as he tucked the cigar back in between his teeth, putting away his lighter. Reaching forward with his claws still extended, he hooked two of the blades into the belt loop of your jeans, tugging you forward. There was about a person’s space between the bookshelf and the window, making it easy for him to grab at you. Of course, your body obeyed his silent command, tripping slightly as you tried to regain your footing. Placing both of your hands on his thick, warm thighs, you licked your lips. The smoke being released from both the cigar and his mouth captured your attention, making it difficult to focus on what he was saying. The way his motions flowed were so smooth, it was impossible to say anything else to him.

Taking a rather large drag of his cigar, he puffed his cheeks out a bit to hold it all in. It took you by surprise, why he was holding it all in his mouth. Retracting his claws on his right hand, Logan grabbed at your jaw like a man possessed, pushing his meaty fingertips into your flesh. The slight ache of his possessiveness made your mouth part, a pained look on your face that you were lost in. Logan got close to you, his lips only mere inches away from your mouth as you whimpered. With your lips parted, Logan mimicked your motions as he breathed out. The soft, heady tendrils of smoke wafted from his mouth into yours, causing you to let them stir. Tobacco mixed with the sweetness of the wrap caused your eyes to dilate, boring into Logan with pure unadulterated lust. There was no mistaking it as he shotgunned his cigar with you, his smirk prevalent. “That’s my good girl.” He crooned, taking in your big eyes, the heat of your skin – basking in your glory.

You blew the smoke right back at Logan while he chuckled, licking his lips to wet them as he took another puff. There was something so intoxicating about how you reacted, it was like watching a painting come to life. From the first day he met you, he knew you were something else – he had to challenge you. Almost four years later and you’re still trying to get with him, he admired it. Finally, the silent love he had for you could be shown, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for you. You made him work to catch you, now you had to work to get what you wanted. “Get on your knees.” The command fell off of Logan’s lips so naturally you almost didn’t catch it at first. Your eyes glossy as you watched him, your brain not keeping up. Narrowing his eyes at you, he cocked his brow as he laid the cigar to the side, watching to see your reaction. “I’m sorry?” You questioned without realizing, your face slack with lust.

Reaching forward towards you, Logan grabbed your neck once more, this time yanking you so close to his face that you felt his breath waft over your features. “Get. On. Your. Fucking. Knees.” There was no hesitation in Logan’s voice as he stated his command, letting his face go rigid to show he was getting pissed off. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” You wanted to, every fiber of your being wanted to disobey him, make him angry so he was rough with you – at the same time you didn’t want to make him mad, not yet anyway. Nodding to him against his hand, you slipped down to your knees easily with a moan, pressing out your wet bottom lip as you gazed up at him.

Logan rolled his eyes as he grabbed the cigar again, pressing it against your lips. It’s when you take a drag of it that he pulls out, putting it in his own mouth once more. With his hand now free from holding his cigar, he quickly flicked open his belt buckle, undoing the top button on his jeans as you took the silent command to pull his zipper down. His erection was stiff against his jeans and left nothing to the imagination. He was big, he was hot, and he was fucking turned on. Watching you with a lustful glow in his eyes, Logan groaned as he watched you, never letting you have the last word: “You may have started the game princess, but I am going to finish it.”

----

Tagging: @livelaughl0ve3 @mehjustalasshere @allen-444 @begaytotallygay @tezooks @hughj1d @mami-veracruz @salemslostwitch @karencaribou @princesstarble @dirtylittlefairytales @hbwrelic @mosscrissfemmefatale @pinkanonwriting @craziersarah98 @actuallybridgetjones @silversprings-mp3 @lokidovahkiin

[loulovingho]

tags: violence (gay bashing), homophobic slurs, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, healing, heading toward getting back together, happy-enough ending

(ao3 link or read below)

Like Fine China

“Hey, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay? You hear me? Try to keep your eyes open.”

He recognized that voice. The last time he'd heard it was just a few weeks ago, at the hospital. Who was it for though? Why was he at the hospital that time?

His brain felt like a jumbled mess. His body felt even worse.

He just wanted to sleep.

“Tommy! Tommy, can you hear me?”

Athena! That's who was speaking to him.

He opened his mouth, cracked one eye open. God, it hurt!

“I- I'm,” the words felt foreign as they escaped him. His voice didn't sound like his own. His mouth was dry, and held a bad taste.

Whiskey and... and metal.

Blood.

“Tommy, paramedics are on their way, okay? I just need you to stay with me until they get here.”

It was dark, but something was shining bright in his face.

“Flash... Flashlight,” he managed to get out, squeezing his eye back shut.

“Eyes- Eye open, Tommy. I'll get the flashlight out of your face, but I need to know you're with me.”

Wait. Had she said paramedics? They couldn't. He couldn't let them- let him see.

“No, no, no,” he mumbled out, shaking his head a couple times until a sharp pain shot through it. “No, h- he can't. I don't-”

“They're not on shift, Tommy.”

He tried to push himself up, away from where she hovered over him. He didn't manage to get very far before she placed a hand on his chest.

“Tommy, you cannot get up. I need you to stay still, and stay conscious. Those two things are your only jobs. You hear me?”

“I can't,” his words were so garbled. He coughed up the blood that'd been dripping down his throat.

I can't let him see.”

“Listen to me, Tommy!” Athena exclaimed, getting right in Tommy's face. He could barely see her, but he could feel her breath on his face. “They're not coming. Buck isn't coming; it'll be someone else.”

In the distance, he heard the sound of sirens. He didn't feel relief. Didn't feel much of anything at all. He was fading, fast. It took all his energy to force out one last sentence before he lost consciousness. “Don't... Don't tell him.”

*****

He just wanted to go out for a drink. Something a little stronger than craft beer.

It'd been two weeks since he broke up with Evan- no, Buck. He was Buck now.

It'd been two weeks since he broke up with Buck and the ache in his chest felt the same way it did the second he walked out of the loft.

He'd thought he was saving himself from future heartbreak, and maybe he was, but it didn't quite make it hurt any less.

Georgie's wasn't exactly a gay bar, but Georgie was gay and the bar itself became a sort of unofficial hang out for older people in the lgbtq+ community. No loud music and everyone left each other alone. A perfect place to decompress while still allowing yourself to be free.

After a couple of whiskey sours, and yeah, a pitcher of craft beer, Tommy was ready to go.

He waited outside, near the alleyway, for his Uber. He found himself going to his messages, hovering over Evan's name. He hadn't had the heart to change it to Buck yet.

He'd been wanting to text him since the breakup. Talk about it some more. Actually give a reason for why it- why he- fell apart so fast. How Buck's words triggered some terrible memories for him. How he suddenly realized there was no way he could be everything he thought Buck needed. Everything Buck deserved. Not to mention they hadn't even exchanged I love you's. And it was insane to think all of Tommy's things could fit in Buck's loft. Buck's things could fit in his house so much easier!

He clicked on Evan's name, started to type something out, erased it, started again, erased it again.

He was usually so aware of his surroundings. His time in the military did that to him. It did a lot of things to him actually, many of which he wasn't very thankful for. However, he prided himself on not being oblivious.

Tonight he was oblivious.

He didn't expect five men to jump him at once. He was a strong guy. Had taken on three men about fifteen years earlier. Did it with ease too.

But not five men. Not when one had a bat, and one had brass knuckles, and one was at least 6'5 and three hundred pounds. Not when they dragged him to the ground and into the alley before he had a chance to react. Screaming slurs at him as they took turns using his body as a punching bag.

He tried to fight. At one point, he was sure he kicked one of the guy's in the face. Heard him yell something like, “The fag broke my tooth!”

It only made things worse.

He wasn't sure when he first lost consciousness, but he knew they were still on top of him. Still laughing as they hit and kicked. He heard the sounds of someone spitting at some point. Felt wet on his face.

Then there was nothing.

Until someone stepped out from somewhere, and maybe they heard him groan? Maybe it was his Uber driver wondering where he was? Maybe it was an employee taking out the trash? He wasn't sure. He could barely hear someone telling him they were calling the police. There was a ringing in his ears, and his lungs felt like they were on fire. Someone said something about wheezing, barely breathing. He wondered what that was about.

Then there was Athena. Then nothing again.

*****

The next time Tommy opened his eyes, he was in a dimly lit hospital room. He was confused. Could barely see out of one eye and everything was blurry out of the other.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and maybe some tiny humans hitting his brain with hammers.

“Are you... awake awake or not really awake?”

The sound of a man's voice startled him. He couldn't hardly move, but he was able to focus his eyes across the room at the figure in the corner.

“Ed- Eddie?”

God, his voice sounded weird. Why did it sound like that? Like he'd spent the last 30 years smoking a pack a day.

“Yeah, I'm here.”

He sounded hesitant. Maybe they'd had this conversation before? If they had, Tommy certainly didn't remember it.

“Wha- Why?”

Eddie stepped closer. “You're in the hospital, Man.”

Tommy wanted to roll his eyes. No duh.

He settled for clearing his throat, which turned into a burning sensation running down his chest. “Why're you... here?” he tried. Hoped Eddie understood that much.

“Tommy-”

“I t- told Athena-” he had to pause to take a breath. “Told her not to tell.”

“Actually, you told Athena not to tell him. And she assumed, correctly, I'm sure, that him was Buck. So she called me instead.”

Tommy closed his eyes. “Why?”

“Why'd she call me? Oh, maybe because you don't have anyone listed as an emergency contact and you were nearly beat to death so she figured you might need someone to be here when you woke up.”

Tommy's jaw clenched at Eddie's harsh words.

Nearly beat to death.

He was nearly beat to death.

Eddie either noticed Tommy's heart rate going up on the monitor, or his eyes filling with tears, because he was right beside his bed in two strides. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, I- I'm kinda pissed, Man.”

“S'okay,” Tommy replied, swallowing hard. “I deserve it.”

Eddie looked taken aback. “No, I'm not- Tommy, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at this,” he said, gesturing over Tommy's body. “I've never seen...” Eddie's voice trailed off and, through Tommy's own blurry vision, he could see that Eddie was close to crying.

“What'd they do to me?” Tommy asked, barely able to take in all his injuries. His entire body hurt, no part any worse or less than the other. He could feel something on every limb, but he couldn't quite move his head around enough to see what it was.

Eddie took a deep breath. He wiped at his eyes with his fingers, sniffling before getting started. “You've got bruising on about seventy-five percent of your body. You had surgery for a busted kneecap on your right knee. Your left arm has a fracture, and your right one has thirty stitches, I think. They broke a few ribs, so it's gonna hurt like hell when you take a deep breath or cough. Um, you had some internal bleeding, but they got that under control pretty fast. You've got a fracture in your cheek, which may cause some extra pain when you talk. You've got a few broken fingers too, and lost a couple fingernails during your- when you were defending yourself.”

“Hm,” Tommy hummed once Eddie was done. “S'that all?”

Eddie shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I'm sure I missed a couple things, actually, jackass.”

Tommy let out a laugh, which quickly turned into a groan. “Thanks for coming, Eddie,” he said, trying and failing at moving himself into a slightly more comfortable position. “You don't have to stay though. I'll be fine.”

Eddie stared at him incredulously. “You're kidding me.”

Tommy shifted his eyes back in Eddie's direction. “No, I- I'll be okay. I've got it. Just,” he paused to take a breath, “don't let Buck know, please.”

Eddie raised a finger toward Tommy. “Well, see, about that. You only told Athena not to tell him before, and-”

“You didn't.”

“-and see he was already at my place when I got the call, so-”

“Please tell me you didn't.”

“I have one with cream and one with sugar and- Oh my God, you're awake!” The sound of Buck's voice had Tommy's head twisting toward the door so quickly that a pain shot from the bottom of his back all the way to the top of his head. “Ow!” he yelped, clenching his teeth and tossing his head against the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh my God. Has the nurse come in yet? Have they checked his vitals? Eddie, you said he'd be out for a while! Tommy, do you feel any nausea? Do you remember who we are? The nurses said you might have-”

“Buck!” Eddie exclaimed. “Stop. He's okay.” He glanced over at Tommy, “I did forget to mention the head trauma.”

Tommy groaned, giving him a glare.

Eddie walked over to Buck and took the drink carrier from his hands. “I'll go find a nurse, you stay with him.”

Tommy wanted to yell out to Eddie to please not go, and also screw you, and maybe throw a couple hand gestures in there too. He stayed silent instead.

Buck looked Tommy up and down, hesitating slightly before walking up to the side of the bed. “So, you're-”

“I want to see myself,” Tommy blurted.

“Oh, um, I... Tommy, I don't. It might be better to wait.”

Tommy managed to move his head enough to look up at Buck. He could see the fear- no, the panic- in Buck's eyes.

“I wanna see," he repeated.

“Tommy-”

“Buck!” It took a lot of strength to get his name out so forcefully, and he didn't quite mean it to sound as angry as it did, but this wasn't Buck's decision. It was his. And he wanted to see what he looked like.

Buck pulled his phone from his back pocket, his hands shaking slightly as he pulled up the camera.

Slowly, he lifted the phone up to Tommy's face.

The second it registered that he was looking at himself, Tommy sucked in a breath. He grimaced as pain radiated through his chest but, when Buck went to move the camera away he stopped him. “No,” he said. “Just. Just wait.”

He knew his eyes were swollen by how out of focus his vision was, but he had no idea just how bad they looked. The right was worse than the left, but both were an angry mixture of black, purple, and green. The bruise on the left side of his face ran down his cheek to his jaw, circling underneath his chin like a half moon and fading into his facial hair. There were marks on his neck. Looked like someone's hand. He could understand Eddie's hesitancy on mentioning that. He didn't remember anyone gripping him there, which was probably for the best.

His forehead had more bruises, and cuts too. There was dried blood at his hairline, some stitched up cuts. His curly hair was nearly matted to his head, his scalp a brutal crimson.

“I tried to wash the blood out of your hair with a washcloth,” Buck explained anxiously, “but you have some lacerations on your scalp and I didn't want to bother them until they healed a little more.”

It was all so overwhelming. There was a whirring sound in his ears that made him feel dizzy. His eyes burned as they filled with tears that he didn't have the strength to wipe away.

“Okay,” he said, his voice uneven. He cleared his throat. “Can you- You can go, please. I don't... You can go.”

“Tommy-”

“Ev- Buck, I'm awake, I'm fine, I don't need anyone here.” He stared straight ahead, unable to look Buck in the eyes. “Please.”

“No.”

Tommy really didn't feel like dealing with stubborn Evan right now. “I don't-”

“I don't really care, Tommy. I'm not leaving you here. I've been at this damn hospital for three days now and I'm staying until you go home. I don't care what-”

He was cut off by the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Got the nurse,” Eddie said, an awkward smile on his face. The nurse, to her credit, ignored all the tension in the room.

“Let me get some hand sanitizer and gloves and I'll be right with you, Mr. Kinard.”

Buck sighed. He stepped even closer to Tommy. “I'm gonna go into the hall long enough for the nurse to check you out,” he said, maneuvering himself until he was halfway leaning over the bed, his arm on the other side of Tommy to prop himself up as he forced him to make eye contact. “I will be back in a few minutes. You have people who care about you, Tommy, whether you like it or not.”

With that said, Buck stood back up and left the room.

*****

Tommy spent a few more days in the hospital before he was released. There were only two times that Buck left long enough to get a shower and get a little rest in a real bed. Both of those times, he made sure Eddie was there the entire time.

Athena had come in to get his statement. Asked him all sorts of questions, most of which Tommy couldn't answer. He hadn't really gotten a good look at them. Only had very basic descriptions. He remembered the slurs they had hurled at him, knew they attacked because he was gay. He couldn't really figure out how they knew though. Besides being outside of that bar, it wasn't like Tommy ever did anything that screamed gay. Not that it mattered.

She'd been honest with him. There were no cameras at that part of the street, or in the alleyway. No one got a good description of the attackers, and the person who called the police only saw their shadows as they disappeared into the night. She'd do everything she could, but it wasn't likely they'd find these men. At least, not until they did this again.

Bobby stopped by once with some homemade chicken noodle soup. Buck had to feed him every bite, which made Tommy feel like he was about to cry the entire time, but he managed half a bowl before he had to stop. It was a million times better than anything the hospital had been feeding him, and he was glad to know Bobby had put some in his freezer to give Tommy when he got home.

Chim and Maddie came one evening. He'd been asleep when they got there, woke up some time during their visit, but he kept his eyes shut until they left.

Honestly, every time someone walked through the doors he felt more and more like running out of the hospital and finding a hole to fall into. Then, if he were lucky, someone would just shovel some dirt over him and let him rest.

These weren't his people. They were Buck's people. They didn't need to be there for him. They needed to hate him. They needed to laugh at his bruises and tell him he deserved every last one. They needed to yell at him for breaking Buck's heart to try and save his own.

That'd be a lot easier than this.

Thankfully, Hen and Karen didn't come by. They did send flowers though, and a card that explained both kids had strep throat and they didn't want to risk bringing that to the hospital. They'd come by Tommy's place once he was home.

He and Buck didn't talk about anything that needed to be talked about. All the unsent messages that had swirled through Tommy's mind didn't matter right now. It was like an unspoken rule between the two of them. Right now was not the time to try and fix whatever happened between them. Right now was about Tommy healing.

*****

As soon as they got Tommy home, Buck left Eddie with him so he could go to the pharmacy and pick up his medications. When he got back, Eddie headed out to go home and rest, promising to come back later with a variety of foods that would be easy on Tommy to eat.

The silence felt more... silent at Tommy's house. It was different now that they were at home instead of a hospital with people coming in and out at all times.

Tommy needed to do something, say something, to break the silence.

“I wasn't on a date,” he muttered out as Buck organized his pain meds on his nightstand.

Buck paused briefly before getting right back to it. “Didn't think you were.”

Tommy nodded. “Okay. I just, I don't know, didn't want you to think that.”

“You go to Georgie's when your brain is working overtime and you need it to quiet down.”

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. “I didn't know I ever told you that.”

“You didn't,” Buck replied, handing Tommy his pills and a glass of water. “I just know you.”

Tommy swallowed the pills, wincing slightly. His throat still felt scratchy even a week later. “I don't know how they knew,” he said as Buck took the water from him and set it on his nightstand.

“Who knew what?”

“Those guys that-” he stopped. “I don't know how they knew I was gay.���

“A lot of queer people hang out at Georgie's,” Buck answered. “They probably took a guess.”

The thought of it made Tommy's stomach lurch. “I've spent most of my life trying to make sure people couldn't guess.”

Buck watched him for a moment quizzically. “Tommy, you're not... You don't blame yourself for this, do you? You know this wasn't your fault, right?”

Tommy avoided eye contact with Buck. He felt so small right now. “I know I didn't do anything to provoke them.”

“That doesn't really answer my question.”

“I just... I don't know what I could have done differently. I know I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. I... I should probably go to a different bar, maybe. I don't know.”

“You can't be serious right now.”

“This is everything I feared my entire life, Buck,” Tommy admitted and, God, he wished he could shut up right now. The pain pills were starting to make him a little loose lipped, mixed with him truly being alone with Buck for the first time since they broke up, mixed with an undeniable fear every time he thought about that night, seemed to make it impossible to close his mouth. “I did everything to make sure nothing like this would ever happen to me and it still did. I keep thinking about it and wondering how it could have been different. How I could have been different.”

“Tommy, can you look at me?”

Slowly, Tommy looked up at Buck, his eyes shining with tears.

“This was not your fault. There's nothing you could or should have done differently. You cannot let those five men shove you back into a closet.”

“I-” Tommy cleared his throat. “They're not. It's just... a lot right now.”

“I get that, I- I do. You look tired. Why don't you rest for a bit, okay? I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Buck, you don't-”

“If you tell me I don't need to stay I will force feed you bone broth when you wake up.”

Tommy shivered. “Ugh! I hate bone broth.”

“I know you do.” Buck gently pulled a pillow out from under Tommy, allowing him to lie back easier. “Close your eyes, get some rest. I'm here when you need me.”

*****

They were bound to fight sometime. Tommy had honestly expected it to happen sooner. Buck had been staying with him for three weeks now, only gone when he was working a shift. Bobby had let him work part time for now, with Carla caring for him when Buck was gone.

They'd managed to get past the initial awkwardness. Buck rambled about any and every subject he could think of. They'd watch movies together on the couch, with Tommy falling asleep halfway through due to his pain meds.

Buck would get Tommy tucked in bed, then set himself up on Tommy's floor in case he was needed during the night. Tommy had tried to insist he use the spare room, but Buck wouldn't hear of it. He knew Tommy wouldn't call for him if he needed him through the night.

Then Tommy tried to suggest he sleep in the bed. But that was a no go because, “I kick, Tommy, you know this. Do you really want another knee surgery?”

They'd been focused on Tommy getting better. And they'd been ignoring the many, many elephants in the room.

So, a fight was expected.

What wasn't expected was for the fight to start because Tommy needed to pee.

Buck had seemed a bit more on edge today, but Tommy chalked that up to a shift that ran longer than expected.

Tommy had grabbed his crutches, which he'd just been able to start using to go short distances. He still didn't quite trust himself to use them at night, but he was working toward relying on them more and relying on people less.

When he stood, Buck immediately stood with him.

“I'm fine, Buck. I just need to go to the bathroom.”

“I'll help you there.”

“I'm really fine. I can get there by myself.”

Tommy was sure he had kept his tone neutral. He definitely didn't want an argument tonight. But, before he could even make it two steps, he heard Buck scoff. “Not surprised.”

And maybe it was the full bladder making him extra bitchy, but Tommy couldn't help turning around and asking, “What's that mean?”

Buck shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nothing.”

“Obviously it's not nothing. If it were nothing you wouldn't have said anything in the first place. What doesn't surprise you?”

“Just you, ya know, pushing people away. It's what you do.”

“Ha!” Tommy laughed out. “If I'm pushing people away then I really suck at it because you haven't left my house in three weeks. I just need to pee.”

“I'm not talking about right now. I'm talking about me telling you that I loved you and you breaking up with me.”

How in the hell did they end up here?

“You didn't tell me you loved me, Evan!” Tommy exclaimed, unbelievably confused. The sudden change in tone caused Buck to take a step back.

He was only thrown off for a second, quick with a retort. “Of course I did!”

“No, you absolutely did not! You asked me to move in with you, but you did not tell me you loved me.”

“Wait. You asked him to move in with you?” Eddie's voice had them glaring in his direction. Both had forgotten he was even there in the first place. He raised his hands. “Sorry.”

“Well, I- it was obviously implied,” Buck argued. “I wouldn't have asked you to move in if I didn't love you.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?! You were making it sound like I was some gay hero that sewed the first pride flag! I don't even go to pride events, Evan! All the colors are far too bright and the glitter never leaves you.”

“Glitter is really annoying,” Eddie agreed.

Tommy pointed a crutch at him. “Thank you.”

“I was not trying to make you out to be some gay hero, Tommy! I was telling you that I was comfortable with you. I was telling you I wanted to spend all my time with you. I wanted us to be together!”

“You didn't even think it through, Evan!” Tommy motioned around the room. “I own a home. It comes with two bedrooms that have doors, a garage, a back yard, and two and a half bathrooms. You asked me to move into your loft.”

Eddie shook his head. “Oh, Buck.”

Buck's eyes shot over to him. “You're still here why?”

Eddie stood from his spot on the couch, grabbing his coat. “Yeah, I'm going. Later.”

They both stayed silent until they heard the door open and close.

Buck opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “This is our first fight, isn't it?”

Tommy nodded. “It is.”

“Took us long enough.”

Tommy managed a small smile. “Probably should have fought you that night, honestly.”

“I think I would have felt better if you did.”

“Me too.” Tommy took a deep breath. “I actually really do have to pee,” he said, shifting from one crutch to the other. “Can we pause this until I'm done?”

Buck nodded. “I'll be here.”

They didn't actually fight anymore after that. It was time for Tommy to take his meds, which made him tired, and Buck was tired himself from his shift. Tommy laid in bed, Buck snoring on the floor beside him, thinking it all over. All the things he still felt like he needed to say. The unfinished business they had between them.

The fight wasn't much, but it was something.

It was enough.

For now.

*****

“Are you sure you're good on your own?” Buck asked as Tommy limped behind him toward the door.

“I'm sure. I can successfully do everything on my own now with minimal to no pain.”

Buck turned back to him quickly, eyes wide. “But there's still pain?”

Tommy smiled. “I'm fine, Evan.”

Buck didn't look so sure. “Okay, I... Okay.” Instinctively, he moved forward to wrap Tommy in a hug. He stopped himself before he got too close, but Tommy responded by opening his arms.

Buck's posture relaxed as he gently wrapped his arms around Tommy, careful not to squeeze too tightly. "I was so worried about you," he whispered in the space between them.

"I know."

“You'll call the number I gave you?” he asked.

“I already did yesterday,” Tommy admitted. “When you went out to pick up dinner. My first session is next Monday.”

“Good. That's... That's good.”

“Thank you, Evan. For everything you've done for me. You didn't have to do that.”

Reluctantly, Buck pulled himself away from Tommy.

“Did you realize you've been calling me Evan since our fight a couple weeks ago?” he asked, lips upturning into a smile.

“Oh, um,” Tommy shifted on his feet, taking the pressure off his bad knee. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Don't be sorry. I hate when you call me Buck.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I'll always- I wanna be Evan, to you.”

Tommy nodded, staring into Evan's eyes. “Okay. That's. I'd like that too.”

Buck continued toward the door, stopping again as soon as his hand touched the handle. He looked back. “Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you think about texting me... hit send, okay?”

Tommy had never mentioned that before. But he'd caught Buck's near-texts to him too, so it didn't quite catch him off guard. “I'm kinda a mess, Evan. I'm not as comfortable as you think I am. I'm not... I'm still figuring things out.”

“That's okay. I am too. Text me anyway.”

“Even if I'm asking you out for a coffee? So we can talk? Really talk?”

“Date and time, I'll be there.” Buck smiled softly at him as he opened the door to leave. “I'll get your order right this time.”

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

TW: Conversion "Therapy" Mention / Homophobia

AN: Sorry this one took a while! - longer than I'd like away!. Coming back from a mini vaca and getting back into work and routine is a nightmare, also my delicate sleep schedule is ruineddd. Anywho, we should be back in business now! :) now, DJ play Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan!

Transcript under the cut

Geoffrey: Great job, bud! Tree is looking great!

Malcolm: It’s because I’m a decorator like mommy.

Jonathan: Mom, are you leaving? We’re supposed to decorate the tree too.

Nancy: Save a few ornaments for me to put on there, darling. Mommy has to step out for a couple hours.

Geoffrey: Johnny’s right, you know. Decorating it is apart of the deal.

Nancy: Can’t you spare me an hour or two?

Geoffrey: Remember what I said about being there?

Nancy: That’s not fair. I’ve been doing better, haven’t I? I left work early, which I’m hardly ever able to do and we found the tree together. I haven’t seen Vanessa in 16 years, Geoffrey. This is important to me.

Geoffrey: Yeah, well, this is pretty important to them.

Nancy: Please don’t make me feel guilty about this.

Geoffrey: It’s just you and Vanessa, right?

Nancy: [frowns] Yes, of course. I’ll be back, ok?

-

Vanessa: I’m glad you came.

Nancy: I wouldn’t have miss this for the world.

Vanessa: You look so beautiful tonight.

Nancy: [blushes] So do you. You’ve always have.

Vanessa: [smiles] I wasn’t sure on your choice of champagne, so I hope you don’t mind we have mine. I guess it’s one of the many things we’ll have to learn about each other.

Nancy: This is perfect. I’m sure I’ll love anything you like.

Nancy Narrates: [I found myself unable to eat. Instead, I got my fill of her. I studied her, consumed the sight of her with greedy, curious eyes]

Nancy Narrates: [It thrilled and frightened me the way she took me in too, as if she was trying to recall all those precious details that may have gotten lost in time. Seeing all the ways I could have changed and stayed the same]

Nancy Narrates: [One thing was for certain: my heart still raced the moment our fingers found one another, just like when we were girls. It was a delicate and familiar touch that I could feel from inside, and it was almost as if no time had passed at all]

Vanessa: [softly] Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, the woman you’ve become. I’ve thought of you, over time, what kind of woman you grew up to be.

Nancy: Is it what you expected?

Vanessa: Successful? Powerful? Stunning? Yes, I like to think so.

Nancy: I’ve thought of you too.

Vanessa: Yeah?

Nancy: I thought about what you did, after high school. Who you became. If you fell in love. If you thought about me too. Feels good, knowing you did.

Vanessa: I think holding on to the version of you I remembered kept me sane, after all this time. Do you mind if I smoke? Helps my nerves.

Nancy: As long as I can bum one.

Vanessa: Hey, do you remember our first cigarette together?

Nancy: How could I forget?

Vanessa: Share a light with me. For old times’ sake?

Vanessa: So, care to share all those burning questions you said you had for me?

Nancy: Now I feel like I’m being put on the spot.

Vanessa: Oh, come on. Don’t go shy on me now. How’s this? I’ll ask a question, then you, and so on.

Nancy: Alright. Shoot.

Vanessa: Do you still talk in your sleep?

Nancy: I- what!? I did not talk in my sleep!

Vanessa: Oh, yes you did. Full sentences too. You monologued even.

Nancy: Fuck off, I did NOT talk in my sleep! How would you know anyway? You were practically narcoleptic. I’d be up for hours after you fell asleep.

Vanessa: [murmurs] Still talks in her sleep- in denial about it. Ok. Got it. Your turn.

Nancy: I’ll ask a REAL question this time.

Vanessa: [smirks] That was a real question. I came all this way just to know but ok, ask away.

Nancy: Well, speaking of ‘all this way’. Where do you live?

Vanessa: Here and there. I don’t like to sit in one spot for too long; I get restless. Bored. I’ve spent the last 6 months in Tomorang. Beautiful people. Lovely culture. That’s actually where I heard your name mentioned for the first time. You’ve got quite the reputation over there. You’ve been up to no good, I hear.

Nancy: Christ...long story. Please don’t ask. Are you thinking of moving here?

Vanessa: Ah, ah. It’s my turn. Let’s see...ah! Who’s idea was it to make Geoffrey ‘Mr. Landgraab’. That’s probably the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.

Nancy: My parents, of course. They didn’t want to erase the family name and since they no longer have a son to continue their legacy- well. You get it. Speaking of marriage, are you married?

Vanessa: No, I’m not married.

Nancy: Well. Are you...seeing anyone?

Vanessa: [smirks] No.

Nancy: Children?

Vanessa: No children either. Those counts as a question, by the way.

Nancy: Oops. Ok, ok, you can ask two then. It’s only fair.

Vanessa: I guess I’ll ask a ‘real question’ then. Are you happy like this?

Nancy: [pauses] Like...what?

Vanessa: Married. Married to him. Does it make you happy?

Nancy: [shifts] I care for him very much. He’s the father of my children. He’s a good man and he’s good to me. Why are you asking me this-

Vanessa: Do you still like women?

Nancy: Do you?!

Vanessa: You have to answer my question first-

Nancy: Did you get my voicemail? November 2nd, 1993. I called you and I left you a voicemail. Did you hear it?

Vanessa: Nancy-

Nancy: Why didn’t you call me back? What—what happened to you, Vanessa? Where did you go? Where have you been!? Why, after all this time, am I just now seeing you?

Vanessa: It’s not really the easiest thing to talk about, but I know I owe you closure. [exhales] After I was pulled out of school, my father had me admitted. I received treatments to ‘fix’ me. Every time I fucked up and pissed off my father, he’d pack me up and ship me off until I came back normal and obedient.

Vanessa: There were days I thought I couldn’t keep going on like that, but then I heard your voicemail, and it... scared me. It made me angry. It broke my heart, but most importantly, it woke me up. I finally found the strength to escape my father and live my own truth. It cost me everything—my family disowned me. I relinquished my fortune, but in return, I’m free. I’m free, and I can live the life I deserve. I just... I wish I could have called, but life didn’t work out that way.

Nancy: It should have because I did call you, Vanessa.

Vanessa: I know.

Nancy: [weakly] I said that I loved you..

Vanessa: I know, I know...things were different for me back then.

Nancy: Things are different now! I’m married. I’m a mother!

Vanessa: I know, Nancy. I didn’t come here to break up a happy home.

Nancy: Why did you come here?

Vanessa: Can’t a girl miss her best friend?

Vanessa: Listen. I’ve thought a lot about how I would fit into your life if I ever got to see you again, if this was something you would want at all. That time we shared in our youth was the happiest I’ve ever been. I missed that feeling. I’ve missed you. I’m in a place to explore a friendship with you again, if you want it. If not, then I’ll accept that.

Nancy: I do want this. I want you here. I just...I can’t...

Vanessa: I know. It could be simple. Easy. I miss you, Nancy.

Nancy: [sighs] I miss you too. I’ve missed you so much.

[onlyangel4]

off limits. ls18. smau.

lance stroll x alonso!reader

going to visit your uncle at work suddenly gets a whole lot more exciting when you meet his teammate

faceclaim: blanca padilla

y/nalonso posted a story

written: going somewhere very exciting today

y/nalonso posted a story tagging fernandoalo_oficial

written: that's right i'm meeting with uncle nando ahead of the spainish gp !

fernandoalo_oficial posted a story tagging y/nalonso

written: every home gp i am reminded of how grown up she is

f1updates

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 23,283 others

f1updates: fernando and his niece y/n have arrived at the paddock for media day, y/n alonso is a model and she has been unable to attend the spainish gp ever since fernando re-joined the grid due to scheduling issues. we are so glad to see her back

view all 2,019 comments

user1: omg she is so pretty

user2: fr real she is going to be turning some heads

user3: this makes me feel so old i remember her from when she was 11 with braces in the paddock

user4: they are icons

astonmartinupdates

liked by user5, user6, user7 and 25,284 others

astonmartinupdates: in case you missed it the funniest thing just happened. aston martin were on stage doing a Q and A with fans when lance pointed to this girl in the crowd and said "what about you pretty girl got any questions?" and she gagged him by replying, "not really i tend to just ask uncle nando any questions i have about racing" and lance's face fell

this man managed to pick y/n alonso out in the crowd and then flirt with her in front of her uncle and his TEAMMATE. he is never going to live this one down

view all 5,283 comments

user5: no nando turning to lance and saying "hold on playboy that girl is off limits" had me dying

user6: i mean i can't blame him she is stunning

user7: i just know fernando proper shouted at him after that

user8: did anyone notice how y/n was blushing a little because girl same

y/nalonso posted a story

written: team colours for race day

fernandoalo_oficial replied to this story: the hotel i booked for you said you didn't check in is everything okay?

y/nalonso: yeah don't worry about me uncle nando i got drunk with flavy last night and stayed with her

lancestroll replied to your story: i think i should change careers and become a professional photographer

y/nalonso: is that so

lancestroll: maybe i just got lucky taking a picture of the prettiest girl

y/nalonso posted a story

written: oh how i have missed this

y/nalonso

liked by flavy.barla, lancestroll, fernandoalo_oficial and 583,383 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial. lancestroll.

y/nalonso: had the best time back in the paddock for the first time in six years

view all 56,283 comments

flavy.barla: loved seeing you pretty girl

y/nalonso: was a much needed catch up

fernandoalo_oficial: you are going to need to come back soon

y/nalonso: i am planning on it

lancestroll: it was lovely meeting you y/n

y/nalonso: thank you for making sure i didn't get lost in the paddock

user9: the lance tag and comment, get in there lad

lancestroll posted a story

written: first half of the season done, bring on summer break

y/ninsta posted a story

written: date night

fernandoalo_oficial replied to this story: a date, with who

y/nalonso: you don't know him

lancestroll replied to this story: i am so fucking lucky

lancestroll posted a story

y/nalonso posted a story

lancestroll

liked by y/nalonso, fernandoalo_oficial, estebanocon and 1,002,283 others

tagged: y/nalonso

lancestroll: summer break with you is worth remembering

view all 82,192 comments

y/nalonso: i love you so much

lancestroll: i love you too, even if you have a scary uncle

fernandoalo_oficial: if you hurt her, i hurt you

lancestroll: yes sir

user10: i wish i was there when fernando found out about this

user11: this is such a hot couple

user12: i love them so much already

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

@bibissparkles

@milkysoop

@hadids-world

@callsignwidow

@barcelonaloverf1life

@queen-of-the-hunt

@piastrams

@kravitzwhore

@a-beaverhausen

@fangirlforever2000

@formulaal

@azeal-peal

@magical-spit

@that-one-little-soybean

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@nichmeddar

[runnning-outof-time]

“You Came.” “You Called.” | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Solomons Sister!Reader

Summary: Tommy Shelby and (Y/N) Solomons despise each other…….or do they?

Warnings: language, slight sexual situations, weapons, threats

Word Count: 1304

A/N: I’m sorry this isn’t as long as the others have been. I need to get these requests finished and this is what I was able to come out with. I hope you’ll still enjoy! Also I’ve tried something a little different at the end - hopefully you’ll participate and not be too mad at me for it! :)

A/N 2: Oh and this is the story where the Solomons!Sister won the poll — I’m not sure if it’s angsty enough…I tried my best with it. Also I’m sorry if Alfie seems ooc here…it’s been a bit since I’ve written him and I’m rusty.

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! — I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THE STORY!

comment/message me if you’d like to be tagged!

"You came," she sounded surprised.

"You called," his response was nonchalant.

"Yeah, but I didn't call you."

The story of Tommy Shelby and (Y/N) Solomons is a long, complicated one.

To give a quick summary: they first met the day that Tommy showed up at Alfie's 'bakery. She was the first to greet him and instantly was able to realize that there was more to his motives than what he was letting on.

She was cautious when dealing with him at first, but his charm soon enough chipped away that hesitant exterior she'd put up.

Neither could help but cross the line one late evening after a successful business dinner.

She thought that that would be the end of Tommy Shelby. But now he'd shown up at her door...when she was expecting her brother.

"Where's my brother?" (Y/N) asked, looking to either side of the doorway, hoping that Alfie would be close by.

He wasn't.

"He's busy," Tommy answered.

"So he sent you?" she asked, her brows furrowed.

"Not exactly," he shook his head.

"I'm not understanding what you're saying. Ollie told me that he'd take a note down for Alfie and that he'd inform him as soon as he became available." (Y/N) was confused now.

"I saw the note," he began, "took it upon myself to see what was needed to be discussed."

(Y/N)'s jaw just about dropped. "Tommy, why did you...would you, you shouldn't, you..."

"My name was on the note, love," he cut off her attempt to string words together.

"Just because it was on the note does not mean you were to be involved!" she couldn't stop her voice from raising, her eyes widening as she spoke. Now she was wondering how Ollie had phrased his note to Alfie. A few beats passed before a sigh escaped her lips. She ran a frustrated hand across her face before asking, "what...what did the note say?" Her thoughts had gotten the best of her.

"It said that you needed to speak about Shelby...had some information you wanted to be made known," he answered her, his eyes boring into hers. (Y/N) opened her mouth to say something but he didn't let her, taking a step inside, making her back up in the process. "What is it you wanted to tell him, hmm?"

His close proximity made her heartrate increase. She was quickly losing her ability to think. "Tommy, I..."

"What really was your goal last night, (Y/N)?" he asked her, his brows raising.

The willpower to keep her hands by her sides and not reach out to take hold of him was leaving (Y/N) by the second.

"I thought your intentions aligned with mine..." he trailed off, raising his hand so that he could run it down her jawline in a slow, teasing manner, "at least it seemed that way when you brought me back here."

Instead of dropping his hand when he reached her chin, he grasped it; taking it between his thumb and index finger so that he could raise her fleeing eyes to match his. This action made the breath get caught in (Y/N)'s throat, and every valid argument left her mind the second her eyes locked onto his icy blue ones. All hope was lost now.

"What are your intentions with me, (Y/N)?" he asked her.

"You know them, Tommy, I.." she couldn't quite string a thought together.

"Tell me."

"I.." she paused again, interally freaking out. Think of something, anything, (Y/N), come on! "I wanted to tell him about you...about us," she decided on telling him a lie, hoping that he would take it as the truth.

"Yeah?"

She couldn't decipher what he was truly thinking from his one word response. His widened eyes didn't help either, other than making her fall deeper into his trap with each second that passed. Now she was wracking her brain to think of ways to sell this.

The last thing she wanted to tell him was that she was going to sell him out...to tell Alfie what she felt his true intentions were.

"Yeah," she breathed, nodding her head as much as she could with his fingers still holding her chin. Sell it, (Y/N)!, her mind screamed before she raised her hands up to grip his lapels. All coherent thoughts flew out the window as she leaned in and kissed him.

This wasn't a loving kiss. It wasn't a slow one, unlike the ones they shared last night. She kissed him hard, hoping that the passion she put into it would be enough to get his mind off of the damn note and seal her lie for good.

His hold tightened on her chin, but he didn't break the kiss. In fact, his other hand moved from his side to her hip, where he began bunching up her skirt in order to make contact with her bare skin.

Success.

(Y/N) also became absorbed by the passion that they both were showing. It was hard not to given the fact that he was Tommy Shelby. The night they shared was one of the best she'd ever had. Conniving business man or not, she would remember it for the rest of her life.

"What in the bloody fucking hell is going on here?!"

What (Y/N) did not remember before getting sucked into this situation was to shut the door to her home.

Her eyes shot open and she became frantic, trying to break the kiss and move away from Tommy as quick as she could. "Alfie!" she shrieked, surprise clear on her face.

"Why're you fucking kissing my sister, mate?!" Alfie asked Tommy, speaking with a seething anger.

While (Y/N) was just about shaking from the shock of her brother showing up, Tommy didn't seem to be phased.

"Alfie he...he was just..."

"No," Alfie cut (Y/N) off, shaking his head and stopping her attempt to cover for the man now standing beside her, "I asked him not you. He knows family is off-fucking-limits, so I want him to answer me why."

Tommy said nothing. (Y/N) shrunk into herself more and more with each passing second. She'd never seen Alfie this angry.

"I said fucking answer me!" Alfie bellowed, drawing the revolver he had tucked into his waistband. He wasted no time in cocking it and holding it in Tommy's face.

Tommy still didn't move; didn't even flinch.

"You're going to fucking answer me," Alfie demanded, his voice low and menacing, "yeah, you're going to fucking answer me or it'll be your fucking brains blown out all over (Y/N)'s fucking foyer."

"Alfie, don't," (Y/N) begged her brother, reaching a shaky hand out in hopes that he would see it and lower his weapon.

"She called for you," Tommy spoke, his voice level and stoic.

"She fucking what?" Alfie asked, his brows furrowing slightly, confused by why Tommy was saying this.

“She called your office. You weren’t around. But my name was on the note,” Tommy shared more details.

“And what does that have fucking anything to do with you fucking kissing my sister?!” Alfie’s anger had returned.

“It has everything to do with it,” Tommy was still level-headed. “You see, she was going to tell you about this, about us,” he then dropped the bomb, motioning between himself and (Y/N) to emphasize the point he was making.

“I can explain,” (Y/N) was quick to blurt out, her eyes trained on the gun in Alfie’s hand, which he’d - thankfully - lowered from being aimed at Tommy’s head.

She couldn’t read the look in her brother’s eyes. The seconds felt like hours as they passed. She stood frozen as Alfie rose the revolver again and…….

Ok I’m evil, I know but……..

Don’t fret, if the poll’s closed by the time you’re reading this, you’re still more than welcome (and I’d encourage you, actually) to share what you think would happen next!!

p.s….this story won’t be getting continued. I’m just curious as to what y’all think.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @mischievouslittlecreature @stevie75

@lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick

@dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety

@justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader

@red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

@ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

[parkersbliss]

the 141 and their obsessed girlfriend

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x female reader 

synopsis: you love your boyfriend, maybe a little too much that some of the things you say are... concerning to say the least.

warnings: kind of gory for simon, sexual innuendo, death threat, reader is just unhinged and in love with her man fr

a/n: if you get it, you get it. these all may or may nOT be things I've said to my boyfriend to which he said I was "batshit crazy but in a sexy way"

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

—

Ghost:

You sigh, laying your head down on Simon’s chest. His reaction is instinctive, an arm wrapping around you and pulling you closer. You snuggle further into him, his warmth radiating onto your skin. A reminder to you of where your home truly was. 

You can hear his heartbeat in his chest, pumping at a steady pace. You count each thump, rhythmic and soft. Faintly, you hear the sound of air moving in and out of his lungs and the slight bubbling of his stomach from the food you had eaten earlier. 

Simon’s hand strokes your lower back, drawing circles as his eyes focus on the rugby match. He’s unaware of his actions, something he’s too used to when he lies with you. He likes feeling the warmth, the subtle pulse, and shivers. It’s a reminder that you’re real. 

You’re too lost in his heartbeat to hear the narration of the game. There was something so comforting to listen to him, affirming what you knew was true. Your boyfriend was alive, his heart circulating the blood through his body. You push yourself further into his chest, wanting to be closer. You couldn’t get any closer, you knew that, but you needed to be. There was some part of you that kept urging for it. 

“Simon,” You call out. 

He looks down at you. “Hm?”

You meet his eyes. “I want to cut through your skin, open your ribcage, and feel your heart.” You said it casually, not faltering and maintaining eye contact with him. You needed to crawl into his chest and live there, be one with him. Closer. 

Simon doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink at your words. “I’d want nothing more than to have you cradle my heart in your hands.” 

You move to straddle him, resting your legs on either side of his hips and leaning your chin on his sternum so you can really look at him. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

He scoffs. “Quite the opposite.”

“Even if I want to live inside your chest?”

“If I could make that happen, I would.” He runs a hand through your hair, tugging gently at the knots. 

You smile at him. “I’d let you live in mine and use my lungs as your personal trampoline.” 

Simon chuckles a beautiful sound to you and lets his hand rest on your hips. “I would be honored.” 

You trace patterns on his chest, huffing. “I just want to live in you.” 

“Unfortunately, you’ll just have to settle for my dick in you.”

You purse your lips from on top of him. “I guess that’ll do.”

Gaz:

You set your phone on the bedside table, lying on your side to look at your boyfriend. He was shirtless, with nothing but his briefs on in bed. Your eyes trace up and down him, taking in all the curves of his muscles and the lines of his abs to the slight stubble of a beard and the downward slope of his nose. God, he was so pretty. 

As if on cue, he turns to look at you. “What?” He murmurs in that voice of his. Kind, but a hint of grit to it. He made it so easy for your thoughts to run wild. You wanted to have his kids. See his eyes in them, the curve of his nose. Actually, scratch that you wanted—“I wanna get you pregnant,” You blurt out. 

Kyle laughs, loud. He isn’t sure he quite heard you correctly. He hopes he did, but then again, you did have a knack for breaking silence with something worth talking about. “What?” 

“I wanna get you pregnant,” You repeat. 

He stills, staring at you and how your face is unwavering. He’s not quite sure what to make of that sentence. He stares at you, your lips pursed in thought and eyes sparkling with a bit of mischief. “That’s simply not possible.” 

“I know,” You said. “But I just want to be able to like fuck you for once.” 

“Oh my god.” 

You shake your head, suddenly aware of how unhinged you sound. But that’s just what Kyle did to you. You were downright obsessed with him. Everything about him made your thoughts melt into a pile of mush and goo. One look at him had you practically reeling. You couldn’t fathom how he was real and yours, nonetheless. “Sorry! You’re just so fucking pretty and it’s like I need to bend you ov—,” 

“Babe,” He cuts you off. “Okay! I get it.” 

“No, but like—,"

He raises his brows at you. “It’s not biologically possible.” He restates, emphasizing that he was not letting that happen and neither was the world. Thank god, he thinks. 

You flop down onto your back on the bed with a groan. “So unfair. We should be like seahorses.” 

Kyle hums, choosing to humor you. “Uh-huh, sorry babe.” 

“I’m just so obsessed with you. I have so many feelings I just… I don’t know what to do with it.” 

Kyle’s hand traces up and down your arm. “Well, we could start with not getting me pregnant.” He moves to situate himself on top of you, pressing his nose into your neck. “But maybe there’s a compromise here, hm?” He kisses the soft skin, and once again, your brain melts into nothing. He was so good to you. He made it easy for you to forget everything in the world but his name on your tongue. So you couldn’t get him pregnant. There was a better idea ahead. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Soap: 

You sat at the table next to Johnny, coffee in hand. You both sit in silence, observing the people passing by on the street. You make note of a man frantically texting on his phone, a little girl chasing after a bird, a couple clinging on to each other. 

People watching. A favorite pastime for the two of you. 

You watch as a girl walks by, her gaze lingering on your boyfriend a second longer than you’d like. Her eyes rake up and down his figure, and she pulls out her phone, no doubt texting someone. 

You turn to Johnny, who’s oblivious to it. “I’m going to fucking kill her.”

His head snaps towards you. “What, love?” 

“That girl,” You gesture with your head. “I’m going to kill her.” 

“Why?” 

“She looked at you.” 

Your boyfriend nearly spits out his coffee. “So you’re gonna kill her?” 

You glare at him. “That’s merciful.” 

“Oh really?” He jests you. 

You nod your head, setting down your coffee and pulling out your phone. “If I really wanted to fuck with her, then I could find her home address and slightly misplace all the objects in her flat and watch her go insane.”

Johnny stares at you, concern etched into his face. His eyes sweep your face for any ounce of joke, but he knows you’renot. He always wanted a possessive girlfriend. “You’re crazy.” 

“Crazy about you,” You correct. “If I ever see anyone look at you like that again, I’m going to call an airstrike on them.” 

He grabs your hands. “Love, you never have to worry about anyone else.”

“I don’t worry. They should worry. If they wanna stare, then they can stare at the ceiling before I gouge their eyes out.” 

Johnny sighs. He loves you, truly. But to say you weren’t sometimes a little unhinged was an understatement. You always had a jealous streak about you, it’s what initially drew him in. That fire he saw in your eyes, dangerous but beckoning him closer. The idea of a possessive girlfriend really did turn him on. It was just moments like these that he wished he could carry around a giant sign that said “Please don’t look at me unless you wanna die.” 

“You’re something else, you know?” He asked, running his thumb over your knuckles. 

You melt a little at the gesture, and he can see your shoulders relax. “You’re mine.” 

He presses a quick kiss to your lips. “True, and you never have to do that. So please stop threatening random people on the street in public.” 

You smile at him. He was so sweet. “You’ll never find a bitch crazier than me, baby.” 

“I never want to,” Johnny insists. “Though, you can show me crazy in a different way…” 

You can see his eyes sparkling with something and you bite your lip, grabbing his hands. “Let’s go home.” 

Price:

You’re sat next to Price on the couch. He’s got a hand slung over your shoulder, keeping you close as you lean your head into the crook of his neck. He was warm, a giant teddy bear covered in rippling muscles. His beard scratches the top of your head, but it’s not uncomfortable. In fact, you love the feeling of it when you’re kissing. The soft pinch of his hair against your face. 

But honestly, you loved everything about him. There wasn’t one thing about him you could dislike. Well, maybe that he was gone so long sometimes. In reality, it just made you want him more though. It created special moments like this, where you knew time was futile. 

You sigh, playing with the hairs of his beard. You feel like them against your fingertips, pinching and prodding. 

You gaze up at your husband, his blue eyes focused on the screen and dark lashes contrasting with his pale skin. 

“Honey,” You murmur.

He hums, looking down at you. “Yes?” 

You cock your head at him. “I want to take your beard hair and make it into matching sweaters for us.” 

Price, unfazed by most things, is fazed by this. He could take a bullet, and wouldn’t flinch at a grenade or a gun pointed at his face. But that. 

That was a sentence he wasn’t sure how to unpack. 

“What?” He asked. 

You giggle a little. “You know, the clippings in the bathroom. What if I started collecting them to make a sweater?” 

Price nods, humoring you. “Darling, please don’t do that.” 

“Why not?” You pout, sticking out your bottom limit. 

“That would be itchy,” He insists. “My beard is already itchy enough. You don’t want to wear it too.” 

You don’t, he’s right. You just wanted to say something to see his face contort. He was so comfortable around you that it made it easy to catch him off guard. And really, a part of you was that obsessed with him. 

“Fair point, I suppose,” You concede. 

He’s surprised you surrender so easily. “You don’t already have a collection going, do you?” 

You laugh, patting his chest. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

He pauses. “No, I would not.” You snuggle closer to him, going back to playing with his beard. His arm drops to your waist, giving it a squeeze. “You’re insane, my dear.” 

You grin up at him, planting a kiss on his lips. “In more ways than one.” 

Price kisses you back, sneaking his hands under your shirt and higher. “Amen.” 

He was never religious, but that man did get on his knees for you.

-- END --

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[josephquinnswhore]

the day your heart stops yearning - pedro pascal x female reader

summary: pedro is tired of the two of you dancing around your feelings for each other.

word count: 1.2k

content warnings: bitta jealously, insecurity from reader, mentions of sex, suggestive comments etc. Pedro is the loml I swear these new pictures have altered my brain chemistry.

Wrapping the towel around yourself tightly, you sit down as your swimsuit soaks through the material. Hair dripping wet and skin cooled down from the sea water. Pedro looked incredible, his hair wet and curly. Droplets of water running down his toned chest.

His board shorts tighten and stick to his thighs and crotch. Swallowing thickly, you help him put his sling back on to support his shoulder injury.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” His voice calls to you softly, drawing you out of your thoughts, every time you were with Pedro, you seemed to be lost in them. Somewhere far away from him.

There’s a moment's hesitation where you process what he’s said, reeling yourself back to the serenity around you. The two of you are on a small boat, surrounded by clear blue water, bright and mirroring the clearness of the sky. Not a cloud in sight.

There’s a formation of an unnaturally curved rock, shaped by erosion, perhaps the gods. The sight would’ve been worthy of such creation. Pedro was wearing nothing but his multi-coloured board shorts, and a deep blue sling.

“That doesn’t even come close to it. I can't describe how it feels to be here.”

With you.

But the words are lost, dying on the tip of your tongue as they had many times before. More often than not the two of you had done this, your own separate outing together aside from everyone, co-stars and friends.

“How’s your shoulder feeling?” The concerned murmur is met with a smile that he reserved for you. All teeth baring and eye wrinkles exposing themselves, the smile that reaches his eyes. His deep brown orbs aren’t much to be seen now, eyes squinted as he laughs.

“You’re worrying about me at a place like this?” He tilts his head, the one curl from his messy brown mop of hair falls onto his forehead, and he runs his hand through it, pushing the hair back off his skin.

He’d always found a way to lighten the mood, sending some kind of solemnness emitting from you today, he knew you better than anyone. The feeling had his insides clenching with anxiety.

It had been happening for years, the two of you having some unspoken moments where you couldn’t deny that there was a connection between you, something so effortless and heart wrenching at the same time. So many unspoken words and almost confessions.

“Hey,” he draws you out of your head again, lost in the fog of heartache and doubt.

He looked so good with Connie, that’s all you’d thought about since you’d flown to Malta with Pedro. They seemed so perfect for each other—the way he looked at her while he filmed their shared scenes. It felt real.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m just thinking about some things.” It was easy to brush off, or to pretend to anyway.

“Since when do you keep things from me? Somethings going on with you, come on, spill your heart to me honey.” Meeting his gaze, the brown orbs suck you into an intoxicating familiarity of the love you so desperately crave.

“Can this wait? I don’t want to ruin all of this.” Gesturing to the view, the lapping sound of the water against the side of the boat, the gentle rocking sensation sends your stomach spiralling into more unease.

“You aren’t ruining anything, talk to me.” Setting his can of beer down, he shuffles closer to you, placing his hand on your exposed thigh. “Talk to me.” He pleads again.

“I miss you.” The simply utter broke the silence between you, cutting through the background noise.

He knew what you meant. There hadn’t been much time for the two of you to see each other. Between filming for Gladiator II and the new Fantastic Four franchise. Yet—he knew it ran deeper than that.

You missed the picnics, the shared gazes of knowing and mutual love. The late night dancing and his hands running through your hair, the two of you unable to let go of one another.

The sex you miss, too. But not nearly enough as you crave for his skin on your own, for his hand in yours and his heart in your hands.

“Oh, sweetheart—“ he sounds so sweet, so sincere, but you cut him off anyway.

“Pedro.. don’t. We don’t need to do this today.”

He stares at you, wondering what’s happening in that head of yours.

“You know how I feel about you, right?” He murmurs, tracing unnamed shapes over your skin.

“I suppose so.” All he gets is an uncertain shrug from you.

He frowns, the stress lines on his face appear on his forehead. “My heart is yours, sweetheart.” He utters your name softly, fingers leaving your thigh to caress your cheek.

“What’s it matter how we feel? We can’t be together. You practically are married to the entire internet and it’s not practical for us to date.” Finally, he was getting to the root of it all.

“Fuck being practical,” he murmurs. “Tell me how you feel, just say it to me, I’ll do right by you.”

It feels like your throat is swelling up, preventing you from uttering the words you’ve longed to tell him for years. Somehow, you blurt them out in an anxious whisper.

“I love you.”

Before you could process the admittance of your love, he had pressed his own lips softly against yours. It certainly wasn’t the first time you’d kissed, but this time felt more authentic.

Your fingers caress his face, his facial hair tickles your fingers as you hold him against you, his nose is pressed into your cheek and it’s a little awkward. But your heart is pounding erratically in this moment, eyes closed and focusing on the feeling of his lips, his hand clutches the back of your neck.

After a few moments, he pulls away from you, pupils blown wide take up most of the mass around the deep brown iris. “I love you,” the whisper in return was made against your lips, his nose against your own.

“Tell me you’re mine, that we’re going to do this properly.” He pleads, he’s too close for you to look at anything but his eyes. The pleading gaze of hope in them.

“I want that, want you.”

The words aren’t lost on him, the entire afternoon is spent in seclusion, the two of you holding each other, kissing and wrapped around each other as if you were two halves of a whole.

Your fingers are white, lathered in sunscreen as you apply the substance on Pedro’s back. “We really should’ve done this hours ago.” You scold lightly, to which he laughs, shaking his head.

As you trace his back while you’re applying the sunscreen, making sure to cover all the freckles on his skin, and his arms as you trail down. Fingers running up the muscled limb as you return to the base of his neck to give a light massage.

He’s not subtle when it comes to how you made him feel, a loud breathy groan escapes his lips.

“Feel good?” The purr turns his cheeks red—he turns to you.

“Such a tease. If we weren’t in public you’d be in trouble.”

“Maybe we should head back to the hotel now then?”

He perks at your suggestion. The corner of his lip tugs upward in a slight smirk. Pleased with the idea of having you all to himself.

“My girls just got all the right ideas, don’t she?”

My girl—his girl. After years of pining and yearning over more from him, he’s given you the chance you’d dreamed of.

[aceyalonso]

god forbid - OSCAR PIASTRI

pairing: altar server!oscar piastri x pastors daughter!reader

summary : the indulgence in sin wasn't new to y/n, it never has been- but to oscar? he was as pure and innocent as a doe, the thought of sinning never even crossing his mind. but then again, everyone has to sin at one point, right?

warnings/notes : swearing, homoerotic tendencies between alexandra and rebecca, mentions of drinking, smut, sacrilegious themes, unspecified branch of Christianity, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!!), corruption, masturbation, improper use of hairbrush handle (iykwim), praise kink, use of "good boy", oral (m!receiving), edging, overstimulation, manipulation (if you squint)

word count : 18.1k

a/n : a very long and self indulgent fic HAHAHAH (please let me know if i missed any warnings, i lost count while writing)

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Y/n took a deep breath, steadying herself before stepping up to the altar. The church was filled with the familiar faces of her congregation, including her best friend Alexandra who had just finished delivering the first reading. Y/n smoothed her skirt and adjusted the microphone, her eyes scanning the pews until they landed on her father, the pastor, watching her intently from his seat.

She cleared her throat and began, her voice ringing out clear and strong. "Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him."

As Y/n continued to read, her mind began to wander despite her best efforts to focus. Thoughts of her secret rebellious side crept in unbidden - the parties she snuck out to on the weekends, the alcohol she experimented with, the boys she flirted with behind her father's back. A thrill ran through her at the riskiness of it all, even as a twinge of guilt pricked at her conscience.

Y/n's eyes met Oscar's as she continued reading, a flicker of something unreadable passing between them. She quickly averted her gaze, focusing intently on the words in front of her. Oscar, with his innocent eyes and pure heart, was everything Y/n wasn't. He never drank, never smoked, never even looked at a girl the wrong way. Her father adored him, always going on about what a fine young man he was, how he might even make a good pastor someday.

God, Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She knew she should be happy for Oscar, proud of his devotion and goodness. But instead, it made her feel even more like a fraud. Like she was just playing a part, pretending to be the perfect pastor's daughter while hiding her true, sinful self.

She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her temple as she struggled to concentrate on the reading. Her eyes darted to Alexandra, who sat primly in the pew, the picture of innocence. But Y/n knew better. She knew about the wild parties they attended together, the boys they flirted with and sometimes took home. The way they would pass a guy back and forth, tossing him aside when they grew bored.

It was thrilling and exhilarating, a rush of power and control that Y/n craved. But here, in the church, surrounded by the pious faces of her congregation, it felt dirty. Shameful. She imagined what her father would think if he knew the truth about his precious daughter, and a wave of nausea washed over her.

Y/n swallowed hard and forced herself to focus on the words in front of her. She couldn't let anyone see the turmoil raging inside her. She had to keep up appearances, no matter the cost. Even if it meant burying her true self deeper and deeper until she hardly recognized who she was anymore.

She hurried through the final verse, her voice wavering slightly as she rushed to finish. "But each one is tempted when he is drawn away and enticed by his own evil desires. Then when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and when sin is accomplished, it brings forth death."

The words tasted bitter on her tongue, a stark reminder of her own hypocrisy. Y/n stepped back from the lectern, her legs shaky beneath her. She glanced at her father, hoping he hadn't noticed her momentary lapse. But his eyes were closed in prayer, his face serene and untroubled.

As Y/n made her way back to her seat, she caught Oscar's eye once more. He gave her a small, encouraging smile, his faith in her unwavering. Y/n felt a pang of guilt, knowing she didn't deserve his trust. She slid into the pew beside Alexandra, who leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Nice job, girl. You almost had me worried there for a second." Alexandra giggled, her breath hot against Y/n's cheek.

Y/n leaned in close to Alexandra, her lips brushing against her friend's ear as she whispered, "Why the fuck is this the Bible verse chosen for today? It's making me feel so guilty."

Alexandra smirked, her blue eyes glinting with mischief. "You didn't feel guilty making out with that guy last night," she purred, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Or when you downed like, five shots in a row. Live a little, Y/n. God knows you deserve to let loose sometimes."

Y/n bit her lip, torn between her desire for freedom and the crushing weight of expectation. She knew Alexandra was right - she had spent the night before tangled in a stranger's arms, lost in a haze of alcohol and lust. But here, in the sanctity of the church, it all felt so wrong.

They turned their attention to the altar, watching as the altar servers busied themselves with the communion preparations. Oscar was among them, his movements precise and reverent.

Alexandra leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "So, did you even remember that guy's name? The one you were making out with last night?"

Y/n furrowed her brow, trying to recall the hazy details of the previous evening. "It started with an F, I think. Frank? Franco?" She shrugged, the names blurring together in her mind.

Alexandra giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "Typical Y/n. Always leaving a trail of broken hearts and empty beds wherever you go."

Y/n poked Alexandra in the side, eliciting a small "ow" from her friend. "Hey, don't forget, you aren't that innocent either, you know," she whispered, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I saw you making out with Rebecca last night."

Rebecca was a member of their church choir, known for her sweet voice and demure demeanor. The thought of her locked in a passionate embrace with Alexandra sent a thrill down Y/n's spine.

Alexandra shrugged, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Rebecca just wanted to try on my new lip gloss. You know how curious she is about makeup."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Sure, and I'm sure that's all it was. Just two innocent girls experimenting with cosmetics."

The two girls stood to join the congregation in singing the hymn. As the familiar melody filled the air, Y/n noticed Alexandra's gaze locking with Rebecca's across the church. The two exchanged heated looks, a silent conversation passing between them that spoke volumes.

Y/n leaned in close to Alexandra, her breath tickling her friend's ear. "Save the eye-fucking for outside of church, will you?" she whispered, a playful edge to her tone.

Alexandra shot Y/n a quick, apologetic smile before turning her attention back to the hymnal. But her eyes kept straying to Rebecca, a flush creeping up her neck.

As the hymn continued, Y/n found her own gaze drifting towards Oscar. She couldn't help it. There was something about him, something pure and untainted that drew her in like a moth to a flame.

Maybe it was the way her father spoke so highly of him, always going on about what a fine young man he was. Or maybe it was the way Oscar's innocence seemed to shine through in every action, every gesture. An innocence that Y/n suddenly found herself wanting to corrupt.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts. What was she thinking? Oscar was off-limits. He was practically family, for God's sake. And yet, the more she tried to push the idea away, the more it took root in her mind.

Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as she watched Oscar from beneath her lashes. What would it be like, she wondered, to be the one to introduce him to the pleasures of the flesh? To watch that innocent face contort in ecstasy as she guided him through his first forbidden experiences?

She continued to sing along halfheartedly, her mind wandering as she imagined how Oscar would sound. Would he moan her name softly, breathlessly? Or would he cry out in ecstasy, his voice echoing off the church walls? She pictured him flushed and panting, his body glistening with sweat as he reached his peak.

The vivid fantasy caused a shiver to run down Y/n's spine, and she had to bite back a moan of her own. She was so lost in her lustful thoughts that she barely registered her father's voice booming through the church, calling the congregation to sit down.

Y/n settled into her seat, her eyes immediately seeking out Oscar. He was standing near the altar, his posture straight and attentive as he listened to her father begin the sermon. She shifted uncomfortably, her thighs rubbing together as she tried to ignore the growing ache between her legs.

"Calm down," Alexandra hissed, giving Y/n a pointed look. "Your dad's starting his sermon."

Y/n nodded, trying to focus on her father's words even as her mind raced with thoughts of Oscar.

"Temptation is a powerful force," her father intoned, his voice ringing out through the church. "It can lead us astray, cause us to stumble and fall. But we must resist, my children. We must hold fast to our faith, even in the face of the greatest temptations."

Y/n squirmed in her seat, her father's words hitting a little too close to home. She knew she should be paying attention, should be taking his message to heart. But all she could think about was the way Oscar's lips might feel against her skin, the way his hands might explore her body.

"Temptation comes in many forms," her father continued, his voice booming through the church. "It can be the lure of wealth, the promise of power, or the allure of the flesh. But we must be vigilant, my children. We must guard our hearts and our minds against the wiles of the devil."

Y/n reached into her small purse, fishing out a piece of candy she always kept on hand for long sermons. She and Alexandra often found their blood sugar dropping during the lengthy services, making it hard to concentrate on her father's words.

She unwrapped the candy slowly, trying to be discreet as she popped it into her mouth. The sweet flavor burst on her tongue, giving her a much-needed boost of energy. But even as she focused on the sermon, her mind kept wandering back to Oscar.

"Temptation can come from the most unexpected places," her father said, his voice rising with passion. "Even those we trust, those we love, can lead us astray if we are not careful. We must be on guard at all times, my children. We must be ready to resist temptation whenever it rears its ugly head."

Y/n shifted in her seat, her thighs clenching together as she tried to ignore the throbbing between her legs. She knew her father was right. Temptation could come from anywhere, even from someone as innocent and pure as Oscar. But that didn't make it any easier to resist.

She felt a jolt of electricity run through her as her father mentioned her name and the Bible verse she had read earlier. She glanced over at Oscar, catching his eye. He smiled at her, his expression warm and friendly, but Y/n couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if that smile was directed at her in a more intimate setting.

"My daughter Y/n read from the book of James earlier," her father continued, his voice ringing out through the church. "She spoke of the dangers of temptation, of how it can lead us astray if we are not careful. Let us all take heed of her words, my children. Let us all strive to resist the temptations that may come our way."

Y/n squirmed in her seat, her mind racing with forbidden thoughts. If anything, hearing her father speak about temptation only made it easier for her to imagine giving in to her desires with Oscar. She pictured him bending her over the altar, his hands roaming her body as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

She found herself zoning out, her foot bouncing restlessly on the floor as she struggled to focus on her father's sermon. She couldn't shake the feeling that Oscar was staring at her, his gaze intense and unwavering. It was as if he could read her mind, as if he knew exactly what kind of filthy thoughts were running through her head.

But instead of disgust or judgment, Y/n saw a flicker of something else in Oscar's eyes. Something that looked suspiciously like desire. Could it be that he wanted her too? That he was just as tempted by her as she was by him?

The thought sent a thrill of excitement through Y/n's body, even as a small voice in the back of her mind warned her to be careful. She knew she was playing with fire, entertaining such forbidden fantasies. But the temptation was just too strong to resist.

Y/n tore her gaze away from Oscar, closing her eyes as she tried to regain her composure. She could feel Alexandra's concerned gaze boring into her, and she knew she needed to say something to appease her friend.

"I have a stomachache," Y/n mumbled, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. She knew damn well that it was everything but a stomachache that was causing her distress. It was the throbbing ache between her legs, the desperate need for release that consumed her thoughts.

Alexandra frowned, leaning in closer to whisper in Y/n's ear. "Are you sure you're okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

Y/n forced a weak smile, nodding her head. "I'll be fine. Just need some fresh air."

She stood abruptly, ignoring the surprised looks from those around her as she made her way towards the exit. She needed to get out of there and clear her head before she did something she would regret. But even as she pushed open the heavy wooden doors, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that Oscar's eyes were still on her.

Y/n slipped out into the garden near the chapel, desperate for some fresh air and a moment to collect herself. She could still hear her father's voice droning on from inside, his words washing over her in a distant, muffled blur.

She sank down onto a nearby bench, her head spinning as she tried to catch her breath. The scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass filled her nostrils, but even that couldn't distract her from the persistent ache between her legs.

Y/n tuned back in to the sermon every now and then, her father's voice rising and falling as he spoke of the dangers of temptation. But his words seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears.

She felt lightheaded, dizzy with a heady mix of shame and desire. She knew she shouldn't be having these thoughts, especially not about Oscar. But she couldn't help it. The temptation was just too strong to resist.

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she sat alone in the garden. The rest of the Mass passed by in a blur, her father's voice fading into the background as she struggled to calm her racing thoughts.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the gentle breeze that rustled through the leaves overhead. The scent of honeysuckle and jasmine filled her nostrils, a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.

But even as she tried to find peace in the tranquil surroundings, Y/n couldn't shake the image of Oscar from her mind. His innocent face, his kind eyes, the way his lips curved into that perfect smile. It was enough to drive her mad with desire.

Y/n shifted on the bench, her thighs clenching together as she fought the urge to touch herself right then and there. She knew it was wrong, knew that she was crossing a line that could never be uncrossed.

As the Mass ended, Y/n heard footsteps approaching behind her. She turned to see her father, still dressed in his pastoral attire, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Y/n, are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with worry. "I saw you slip out during the sermon. Is everything okay?"

Y/n forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil raging inside her. "I'm fine, Dad. It was just really hot in there, and I wasn't feeling too well. Stomachache."

Her father nodded, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Well, if you're not feeling better, why don't you head home and rest? I can finish up here."

Y/n shook her head, determined to stay and make amends for her absence during the sermon. "No, I'm okay. I just need to pray the rosary, to make up for the time I missed."

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Alright, but if you start feeling worse, don't hesitate to come home and rest. Alexandra has your purse, so you can swing by their place to pick it up on your way."

Y/n thanked her father, watching as he turned to greet the other parishioners. She knew she should head inside and pray, should try to cleanse her mind of the impure thoughts that plagued her. But as she stood up from the bench, she couldn't help but glance towards the church, wondering if Oscar was still inside.

With a sigh, Y/n made her way toward the church entrance, steeling herself for the battle ahead. She knew it wouldn't be easy to resist temptation, especially with Oscar so close by. But she had to try, had to prove to herself and to God that she was stronger than her baser instincts.

Y/n made her way to the front pew, the chapel eerily quiet save for the occasional chirp of a bird that had snuck in through the open windows. She knelt down on the cushioned kneeler, the cool stone of the church floor pressing against her knees.

She began to pray the rosary, her fingers moving mechanically over the beads as she recited the familiar prayers. But even as she tried to focus on the words, her mind kept wandering, her thoughts straying to Oscar.

She pictured him kneeling in front of her, his head buried between her thighs as he devoured her with his mouth. She could almost feel his tongue lapping at her most sensitive parts, could almost hear the sounds of his pleasure as he discovered the taste of her.

Y/n bit her lip, stifling a moan as the fantasy played out in her mind. She knew it was wrong, knew that she was defiling the sacred space with her impure thoughts. But she couldn't stop, couldn't tear her mind away from the image of Oscar worshipping her body like it was the Holy Grail.

Y/n prayed harder, her whispers turning into full-voiced recitations as she tried to drown out the sinful images flooding her mind. But it was no use. The more she tried to focus on her prayers, the more vivid the fantasies became.

In her mind's eye, she saw herself and Oscar tangled together in the bell tower, their bodies moving in a frenzied rhythm as the church bells tolled overhead. She imagined him bending her over the altar, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her again and again.

And then there was the confession booth, the small, dark space where sins were laid bare. In Y/n's twisted imagination, she was on her knees, her mouth wrapped around Oscar's hard length as he groaned in pleasure.

The images were so real, so vivid, that Y/n could almost feel the phantom sensations on her skin. She squirmed on the kneeler, her thighs clenching together as she fought the urge to touch herself right then and there.

Tears began to well up in Y/n's eyes as the guilt of her lustful thoughts threatened to overwhelm her. She had never felt so ashamed, so dirty, so utterly consumed by a sin that she knew was wrong on every level.

But even as the tears spilled down her cheeks, Y/n couldn't deny the truth of her desires. She wanted Oscar, craved him with every fiber of her being. The thought of his hands on her body, his lips against her skin, was enough to drive her mad with need.

Y/n bowed her head, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she tried to pray for forgiveness. But the words caught in her throat, choked off by the intensity of her longing.

She knew she was damned, knew that she was straying further and further from the path of righteousness with every passing moment. But she couldn't seem to stop, couldn't seem to find the strength to resist the temptation that called to her so loudly.

As Y/n finished her prayers, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, trying to compose herself. But just as she was about to stand up and leave, she heard a noise coming from behind the altar.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she peered around the edge of the altar cloth to see what was going on. There, in the dim light of the sacristy, she saw Oscar emerging from the changing room.

He was in the process of taking off his robe, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of his toned abs. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched him, her eyes tracing the path of his happy trail as it disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.

Oscar seemed oblivious to her presence, humming softly to himself as he hung up his robe and adjusted his shirt. Y/n felt like she should look away, should give him some privacy. But she couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from his body, mesmerized by the sight of him.

He emerged from the sacristy, his eyes lighting up when he spotted Y/n kneeling in the front pew. "Hello Y/n!" he greeted her warmly, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Are you okay? I saw you walk out during the sermon earlier. Everything alright?"

She quickly wiped away any remaining tears, trying to compose herself. "Y-yes, I'm fine," she stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught off guard. "I just needed some fresh air, that's all."

Oscar nodded understandingly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he turned to gather his things. Y/n's eyes couldn't help but trace the contours of his body as he moved, the way his shirt hugged his broad shoulders, the way his pants clung to his muscular thighs.

She felt a familiar heat building between her legs, a desperate ache that demanded to be satisfied. It took every ounce of willpower for Y/n to tear her eyes away from Oscar's form, to focus instead on the crucifix hanging above the altar.

Oscar gathered his things, glancing over at Y/n with a curious expression. "What are you still doing here, by the way?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "I've been cleaning in the back for about thirty minutes now. Shouldn't you be at home resting by this point?"

Y/n felt a pang of guilt at his words, realizing just how long she had been sitting there, lost in her own twisted fantasies. "I...I was just praying," she mumbled, her eyes downcast. "Trying to make up for leaving the sermon early."

He nodded, his smile softening into a look of understanding. "I get it. Sometimes we all need a little extra time with God." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "But don't forget to take care of yourself too, Y/n. God wants us to be healthy and happy, not run ourselves into the ground."

Y/n smiled at Oscar, grateful for his concern. "Thank you, Oscar. That means a lot." She stood up from the pew, smoothing out her skirt as she prepared to leave.

"I should probably head over to Alexandra's to pick up my purse," she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. "I'll see you around?"

Oscar nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he returned her smile. "Sounds good, Y/n. Take care of yourself, and I'll see you soon."

Y/n turned to leave, her heart pounding in her chest as she walked down the aisle of the empty church. She could still feel Oscar's gaze on her back, could still picture the way his shirt had ridden up to reveal his toned abs.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the images from her mind. She had to focus, had to get to Alexandra's house, and retrieve her purse before her thoughts spiraled out of control again.

Y/n made her way to Alexandra's house, the short walk doing little to clear her head. As she approached the front door, she heard the unmistakable sound of giggling coming from upstairs. Curious, she crept up the stairs, following the noise to Alexandra's bedroom.

Peeking through the crack in the door, Y/n's eyes widened at the sight before her. There, on Alexandra's bed, were Alex and Rebecca, their lips locked in a passionate kiss.

Y/n knocked on the door, a teasing lilt to her voice as she called out, "Excuse me, guys, but I need to know where my purse is?"

Alexandra jumped, breaking away from Rebecca with a startled yelp. "Y/n!" she exclaimed, her face flushing a deep red. "I...um...your purse is on the dresser."

Y/n laughed, pushing open the door fully. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I just figured you might need a reminder that you brought my purse with you."

Rebecca laughed, waving hello to Y/n. "Hey there!"

Alexandra turned to Y/n, her expression softening with concern. "Why did you leave the service early? Are you feeling okay?"

Y/n shrugged, trying to play it off casually. "I just needed some air, that's all. It was getting a bit stuffy in there."

Alexandra nodded, but her eyes narrowed slightly as she took in Y/n's appearance. "Are you sure that's all? You look a little...flushed."

Y/n laughed, gesturing to the scene before her. "Oh please, look who's talking. You're the one kneeling on the bed beside Rebecca like you're all innocent."

Alexandra's blush deepened, but she grinned sheepishly. "Guilty as charged. But hey, you caught us. Might as well join in, right?"

Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smile. "I'll pass, thanks. You two have fun, though. I'll let myself out and lock the front door on my way."

"Okay, your loss," Alexandra said with a shrug, a mischievous glint in her eye. Before Y/n could even respond, Alexandra leaned back down and captured Rebecca's lips in a kiss yet again.

As she made her way back to her own house, Y/n's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was disgusted with herself for indulging in such sinful thoughts. But on the other hand, she couldn't deny the intense arousal that coursed through her veins, the desperate need to be touched and desired.

By the time she reached her front door, Y/n was practically panting with desire. She fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Once she was alone, Y/n leaned against the wall, her eyes fluttering closed as she tried to catch her breath. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.

Y/n walked over to the fridge, her mind still reeling from the erotic scene she had just witnessed. She reached for the handle, intending to grab a cold drink to cool herself down, when something caught her eye.

There, stuck to the fridge with a magnet, was a note from her father. "Sorry sweetheart, I won't be back till Wednesday," it read. "I just got a call - there's an emergency meeting for all the pastors in the city. Text me if you finish reading this."

Y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping in disappointment. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath. With her father gone, there would be no one to keep her in check, no one to stop her from indulging in her darkest desires.

Her mind immediately wandered back to Oscar, to the way his shirt had ridden up to reveal his toned abs, to the tantalizing glimpse of his happy trail. Y/n bit her lip, her body aching with need.

Y/n quickly pulled out her phone and texted her father, letting him know she was home safe. Once that was done, she headed to her room, her mind already racing with thoughts of Oscar.

Inside her bedroom, Y/n stripped off her church clothes, tossing them carelessly onto the floor. She rummaged through her drawers until she found a pair of soft, worn-in shorts and a loose tank top. The clothes were comfortable, but they also left little to the imagination, hugging her curves in all the right places.

As she changed, Y/n couldn't help but imagine Oscar's reaction if he saw her like this. Would his eyes darken with desire? Would he reach out and touch her, his hands exploring every inch of her body?

Y/n shivered at the thought, her nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of her top. She knew she should stop these thoughts, should focus on something else. But it was too late. The seed had been planted, and now all she could think about was Oscar, and the way he made her feel.

She laid back on her bed, her gaze drifting over the photos that adorned her walls. There were pictures of her and her father, smiling and laughing together at various events and outings. There were photos of her and Alexandra, capturing their close friendship over the years. Scattered among them were snapshots from her childhood, reminding her of simpler times.

But even as she looked at these cherished memories, Y/n's mind kept drifting back to Oscar. She couldn't shake the image of him from her head, couldn't stop thinking about the way he had looked at her in the church, the way his presence had made her feel.

Y/n sat up suddenly, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what she had to do. She couldn't fight this attraction anymore, couldn't deny the desire that burned within her.

Y/n locked her bedroom door, the click of the lock echoing in the silence of the house. She sat down on her bed, her heart racing as she debated with herself.

She had touched herself before, of course. It was a natural part of growing up, of exploring her own body and desires. But this time felt different. This time, the object of her fantasies was someone so pure, so innocent.

Oscar was a man of God, a symbol of everything that was good and holy in the world. And yet, here she was, imagining him in the most sinful of ways.

Y/n's hand drifted down to the waistband of her shorts, hesitating for a moment before slipping beneath the fabric. She could feel the heat of her own arousal, the slick wetness that coated her fingers.

She closed her eyes, picturing Oscar's face as she began to stroke herself. In her mind, he was kneeling before her, his hands caressing her thighs as he worshipped her body with his mouth.

Y/n's fingers dipped in and out of her slick folds, barely breaching the entrance to her aching core. She was teasing herself, drawing out the pleasure as she lost herself in her fantasies.

In her mind, Oscar's inexperienced tongue was exploring her most intimate places, his soft lips and gentle touches driving her wild with desire. She imagined herself guiding his head, praising him for doing such a good job, for making her feel so incredibly good.

And then, in her fantasy, Oscar looked up at her with those innocent eyes, his voice barely above a whisper as he asked, "Am I doing it correctly, Y/n? Is this what you want?"

Y/n's hips bucked at the thought, a soft moan escaping her lips as she plunged her fingers deeper into her dripping sex. All it would take was a few more strokes, a few more whispered words of encouragement from her imaginary Oscar.

In Y/n's vivid imagination, her hand wrapped around Oscar's throbbing cock, stroking him with a slow, sensual rhythm. She could feel how sensitive he was, how every touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

As she worked him closer and closer to the edge, Oscar began to buck his hips, thrusting into her hand with desperate need. Soft whimpers escaped his lips, his breath hot against her skin as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Y/n held his hand tightly, her fingers intertwined with his as she brought him to the brink of ecstasy. She could feel his heart racing, could sense the intensity of his desire as he clung to her, his body trembling with the force of his impending release.

With a final, firm stroke, Y/n pushed Oscar over the edge, his cock pulsing in her hand as he came with a low, guttural moan. She held him close, whispering words of comfort and encouragement as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, his cum spilling over her fingers in hot, sticky ropes.

Y/n's fantasy had brought her to the brink of orgasm, but it wasn't quite enough to push her over the edge. She stopped, her pussy pulsing with neediness as she took a moment to catch her breath.

After a few seconds, Y/n reached for her hairbrush, a makeshift dildo she had been using for months out of necessity. She couldn't risk her father finding a real sex toy in her possession, so she had learned to make do with whatever she could find.

The handle of the brush was smooth and hard, the perfect size to fill her aching void. Y/n slipped it inside her, a gasp escaping her lips as it stretched her tight walls.

She began to thrust the brush in and out of her dripping sex, her hips rocking in time with the movements of her hand. In her mind, it was Oscar's cock that was filling her, his strong hands gripping her hips as he pounded into her with wild abandon.

As Y/n continued to fuck herself with the hairbrush handle, her mind was flooded with the same forbidden fantasies that had troubled her as she recited the rosary. She pictured herself bent over the altar, her dress hiked up around her waist as Oscar took her from behind. She imagined the cool marble against her skin, the weight of his body pressing her down as he claimed her with his cock.

In another scenario, she saw herself in the bell tower, the heavy ropes of the bells swaying above her as Oscar lifted her onto his lap. She could feel the rough wood of the floorboards digging into her knees as she rode him, her hands gripping his shoulders for support.

But it was the confession booth that really set her imagination ablaze. She pictured herself on her knees, her head hidden behind the screen as Oscar stood before her, his cock hard and ready. She would take him into her mouth, her lips stretched wide around his girth as she worshipped him with her tongue.

Y/n knew that every corner of the chapel was adorned with images and symbols of God - crucifixes, paintings of Jesus, statues of angels and saints. But as she fucked herself with the hairbrush handle, lost in her forbidden fantasies, she couldn't bring herself to care.

The thought of God watching her, of Him bearing witness to her sinful desires, only heightened her arousal. She could almost feel His disapproving gaze upon her, could imagine the shame and guilt that would surely follow if she ever acted on her fantasies and gave in to lust with Oscar.

But fuck, it felt so good. The taboo nature of it all, the knowledge that she was defiling a sacred space with her carnal thoughts, only served to drive her closer and closer to the edge.

Y/n's hips moved faster, the hairbrush handle slamming into her G-spot with each thrust. Her moans grew louder, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she chased her rapidly approaching orgasm.

As Y/n's orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing with the force of her release, she cried out in ecstasy. "God, fuck! Fuck, fuck, so good!"

Her eyes rolled back in her head, her vision blurring as she rode out the intense waves of pleasure. And in that moment, as her mind was lost in a haze of lust and sin, she swore she saw a figure standing before her.

It was God Himself, His face twisted in a mixture of anger and disappointment. He reached out to her, His hand hovering just inches from her flushed skin, as if He wanted to strike her down for her transgressions.

But Y/n was too far gone to care. She was lost in the throes of her climax, her body shaking and twitching as she came harder than she ever had before. The image of God faded away, replaced by a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations that left her breathless and spent.

Y/n collapsed back onto her bed, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her intense orgasm. Slowly, she withdrew the hairbrush handle from her dripping pussy, a low whimper escaping her lips as she felt the sudden emptiness.

She lay there for a moment, catching her breath and trying to process the overwhelming emotions that coursed through her. Shame, guilt, and a lingering sense of arousal all battled for dominance in her mind.

As the haze of lust began to clear, Y/n's thoughts turned once again to the forbidden nature of her fantasies. She knew that what she had done was wrong, that her desires were sinful and unholy. But she couldn't deny the intensity of her feelings, the way her body had responded to the mere thought of Oscar.

With a sigh, Y/n sat up and tossed the hairbrush aside, wiping the sticky evidence of her pleasure from her thighs. She knew she needed to put these thoughts out of her mind, to focus on being a good daughter and a devout follower of God.

As the post-orgasmic haze lifted, a wave of embarrassment and shame washed over Y/n. She glanced around her room, suddenly hyper-aware of the sacred objects that surrounded her. Her eyes landed on the small statue of the Virgin Mary that sat on a tiny altar in the corner, and she felt her cheeks flush with heat.

Quickly, Y/n pulled her shorts back on, trying to cover herself as if the statue could see through her clothes and judge her for what she had just done. She avoided looking at the altar, afraid of what she might see in Mary's serene, knowing eyes.

Y/n's mind raced with thoughts of repentance and atonement. She knew she needed to pray, to ask for forgiveness for her sinful actions. But even as she thought about kneeling before the altar and confessing her sins, a small part of her rebelled against the idea.

Y/n stumbled into the bathroom, her legs still shaky from the intensity of her orgasm. She turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on her face, hoping to wash away the lingering flush of arousal from her cheeks.

But as she looked at herself in the mirror, she knew that no amount of water could cleanse her of the sins she had just committed. Her eyes were dark and haunted, her expression a mix of shame and lingering desire.

She grabbed a washcloth and wiped between her legs, trying to remove any evidence of her self-pleasure. But even as she scrubbed, she knew it was futile. The stain of her sin ran deeper than any soap or water could reach.

Y/n's mind wandered back to the statue of the Virgin Mary in her room, and she felt a pang of guilt. She knew she should be praying, should be asking for forgiveness, and vowing to do better. But the thought of facing Mary, of confessing her sins to the mother of God herself, filled her with dread.

She emerged from the bathroom, her body still tingling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She made her way to the kitchen, her mind still reeling from the intensity of her sinful thoughts.

She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with cool water from the tap, taking a long sip to calm her nerves. The liquid soothed her parched throat, but did little to quench the thirst that still burned within her.

Y/n hopped up onto the kitchen counter, her feet dangling as she sat perched on the cool granite. It was a habit her father had always playfully scolded her for, but in his absence, she found herself craving the rebellious thrill of it.

As she swung her legs back and forth, Y/n's mind drifted once again to Oscar. She wondered what he was doing, if he was thinking about her too. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her body, and she squeezed her thighs together, trying to ignore the renewed ache between her legs.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she heard the unexpected knock at the door. She quickly composed herself and made her way over, smoothing down her hair and adjusting her clothes before opening it.

To her surprise, she found Alexandra standing there, her back turned as she waved goodbye to Rebecca, who was walking away down the path. Y/n blinked in confusion, wondering what her best friend was doing here so suddenly.

"Alexandra? What are you doing here?" Y/n asked, her voice still slightly breathless from her earlier activities.

Alexandra turned around, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she took in Y/n's flushed cheeks and disheveled appearance. "I thought I'd come over and keep you company while your dad makes breakfast," she said, her tone playful and suggestive. "Plus, I figured you could use some girl talk after the way you were eye fucking one of the altar boys earlier."

Y/n let out an exasperated groan, her face flushing an even deeper shade of red as Alexandra's words confirmed her suspicions. Of course her best friend had noticed her shameless ogling of Oscar. There was no hiding anything from Alexandra.

"Ugh, don't remind me," Y/n muttered, stepping aside to let Alexandra enter the house. "Was I actually that obvious? I must have looked like such a creep."

Alexandra laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she brushed past Y/n and made her way into the living room. "Oh please, you weren't that bad. Besides, I'm sure he didn't mind the attention. He seemed pretty smitten with you too."

As she spoke, Alexandra called out in a loud, sing-song voice, "Good morning, Mr. L/n! Wherever you are!"

Y/n shook her head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "No, Dad's not home. He had to leave for an emergency meeting or something."

Alexandra raised an eyebrow, her nose wrinkling slightly as she sniffed the air. "Huh, that explains why I don't smell any food. Your dad usually has something cooking by now after Mass."

Y/n nodded, feeling a pang of sadness at the realization. Her father's absence always left a void in the house, a sense of incompleteness that she couldn't quite shake.

"Yeah, I'll have to fend for myself until Wednesday," she sighed, leading Alexandra towards the kitchen. "Want some cereal or something? It's not exactly gourmet, but it'll have to do."

Alexandra shrugged, a playful smirk on her face as she followed Y/n into the kitchen. "Sure, cereal sounds great. It's better than nothing at all."

As they rummaged through the cupboards for bowls and spoons, Alexandra couldn't help but notice the lingering tension in the air. She knew Y/n well enough to sense when something was bothering her, and the way her friend had been acting lately was definitely out of the ordinary.

"So, you wanna talk about it?" Alexandra asked softly, pouring milk into her bowl of cereal. "I know something's been on your mind lately. You've been distracted, and I'm worried about you."

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the box of cereal. She knew she could trust Alexandra, but the thought of voicing her forbidden desires out loud made her stomach twist with anxiety.

Alexandra's eyes softened with understanding, and she reached out to place a comforting hand on Y/n's arm. "Hey, it's okay," she reassured her, her voice gentle and encouraging. "There's nothing you could say that would be too much information for me. We've been through way too much together for that."

She chuckled lightly, remembering their teenage years and the countless sleepovers and baths they had shared. "Seriously, Y/n, you can tell me anything. I'm here for you, no matter what."

Y/n took a deep breath, her heart racing as she weighed her options. She knew she could trust Alexandra with her life, but the thought of confessing her sinful desires still made her palms sweat with nervousness.

As Alexandra took a spoonful of cereal into her mouth, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the confession she knew she needed to make. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her palms grew clammy with nerves, but she forced herself to speak.

"I... I masturbated while thinking about Oscar," Y/n blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper. She kept her eyes fixed on her bowl of cereal, unable to meet Alexandra's gaze as she waited for her friend's reaction.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, slowly, Alexandra lowered her spoon, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wait, what?" she asked, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief. "Who are you talking about?"

Y/n nodded, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she realized Alexandra's confusion. "Yeah, I know you're not exactly the best with names and faces," she said, shaking her head. "He's one of the altar boys, one of the tallest out of all the servers earlier."

Alexandra's eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. "Oh, shit," she breathed, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "You mean the hot one with the wavy-ish hair and the dimples?"

Y/n felt her cheeks flush with heat, and she nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, that's the one," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't stop thinking about him, Alexandra. It's like every time I close my eyes, I see his face, and I..."

She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence as a wave of shame and desire washed over her.

Y/n buried her face in her palms, a loud groan escaping her lips as she tried to find the words to express the depth of her shame and desire. "Fuck, man," she mumbled, her voice muffled by her hands. "I literally thought about..."

She stopped abruptly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she realized what she was about to say. Taking a deep breath, Y/n slowly lowered her hands, revealing a face that was equal parts mortified and determined.

"I... I wanted to get bent over the altar," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. "With him. With Oscar."

Alexandra's eyes widened, her mouth falling open in shock as she processed Y/n's confession. For a moment, she simply stared at her friend, her brain struggling to compute the sheer audacity of what Y/n had just admitted.

Alexandra let out a low whistle, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and disbelief. "Lord have mercy on your soul..." she joked, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "I never thought of you as the type to have such wild fantasies, Y/n."

Y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the kitchen counter. "I know," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I've always been the good girl, the pastor's daughter who always took the chance to pray and set a good example."

She paused for a moment, her brow furrowing as she tried to find the right words to explain the turmoil that raged within her. "But lately, I've been feeling... restless. Like there's this part of me that wants to break free, to explore things that I've always been taught are wrong or sinful."

Y/n's voice dropped to a hushed whisper as she continued, her eyes downcast and her cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and excitement. "I mean, I've already explored them, yeah, but..." She trailed off, biting her lip as she struggled to find the right words.

"I want to experience these things without the fear of being dragged to hell by the devil himself," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. "I want to feel alive, Alexandra. I want to know what it's like to give in to my desires, to let go of all the rules and restrictions that have been holding me back for so long."

Alexandra listened intently, her expression a mix of concern and understanding. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on Y/n's arm, her touch gentle and reassuring.

She smiled warmly, her eyes shining with a mix of affection and understanding. "It's okay, Y/n," Alexandra said softly, her voice filled with reassurance. "That's why we have each other. We're here so that we can express ourselves freely to each other without judgment."

She squeezed Y/n's arm gently, her touch a silent reminder of the unbreakable bond they shared. "You don't have to be afraid to explore your... fantasies, Y/n. I'm here for you, no matter what. And if anyone tries to drag you to hell for it, they'll have to go through me first."

Y/n let out a soft laugh, her eyes brimming with tears of gratitude and relief. She knew she could always count on Alexandra to be there for her, to support her no matter what.

Alexandra grinned mischievously, her eyes sparkling with a playful glint as she leaned in closer to Y/n. "Well, if you really want to explore these desires of yours, maybe you should just seduce him," she suggested, her voice low and conspiratorial.

Y/n's eyes widened, and she let out a surprised laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Alexandra!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and amusement. "I can't just go up to him and... and..."

She trailed off, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement as she considered the possibility. "Although..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe it's not such a bad idea. After all, what's the worst that could happen?"

Alexandra took a bite of her cereal, a playful smirk on her face as she chewed thoughtfully. "I don't know, you could get disowned if your father finds out," she said, her tone light and teasing.

Y/n's eyes widened in panic, and she leaned forward, her voice rising with each word. "Wait, do you really think he would disown me?" she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.

Alexandra's own eyes widened in surprise, and she waved her hands frantically in front of her. "No, no, of course not!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "He'll be mad, yes, but he won't disown you. I was just joking, Y/n. Don't freak out."

Y/n let out a shaky laugh, her hand pressed against her chest as she tried to calm her racing heart. "Please, never do that again," she pleaded, her voice still tinged with a hint of panic. "I might die of a heart attack before the alcohol I consume weekly gets to my liver."

Alexandra rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of guilt in her expression. "Fine, fine, I'll try to be more sensitive to your delicate constitution," she teased, her tone softening as she reached out to pat Y/n's hand reassuringly.

"But seriously, Y/n, you know your dad loves you. He might be strict, and he might be disappointed if he found out about your... extracurricular activities, but he would never disown you. You're his daughter, and nothing will ever change that."

Y/n nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she felt the tension drain from her body. "Yeah, you're right," she agreed, her voice soft and grateful. "I know my dad loves me, no matter what."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the question that had been nagging at her since she saw Alexandra with Rebecca earlier. "So, what's going on between you and Rebecca?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral. "I mean, you practically pounced on her before I even left your room. Are you guys...?"

Alexandra's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she busied herself with her cereal, avoiding Y/n's gaze. "Nothing," she mumbled, her voice barely audible over the clink of her spoon against the bowl. "We're just friends."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, unconvinced by Alexandra's dismissive response. "Just friends?" she pressed, her tone skeptical. "Because it looked like there was something more going on between you two."

The next day, Y/n found herself at the church, as she often did in her free time. She moved through the familiar space with ease, straightening pews and dusting shelves, lost in thought as she reflected on her conversation with Alexandra the day before.

As she made her way behind the altar in search of the broom they used indoors, Y/n ran into Oscar. He was kneeling on the floor, his head bowed in prayer, his wavy hair falling across his forehead.

Y/n froze, her heart skipping a beat as she took in the sight of him. He looked so peaceful, so serene, and she felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.

"Oscar?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own breathing.

Oscar startled at the sound of her voice, his head snapping up to look at her. His eyes widened in surprise, and a faint blush crept across his cheeks as he realized who it was.

“Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were praying.” Y/n said shyly, realizing she may have interrupted his sacred time with God.

Oscar stood up, brushing off his knees as he turned to face Y/n. "Hi," he said, his voice soft and warm. "No need to apologize. I was just finishing up anyway."

Y/n felt a rush of relief wash over her, and she smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, okay. Good," she said, her voice trembling slightly with nerves. "I was just looking for the broom. I'm supposed to be cleaning up around here."

Oscar nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "I can help you with that," he offered, gesturing towards the supply closet where the cleaning supplies were kept. "It's my turn to clean the altar anyway."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat at the prospect of spending more time with Oscar, and she felt a sudden surge of excitement mixed with anxiety. "That would be great," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Thank you."

Oscar handed Y/n the broom, and they made their way out into the main sanctuary. As Oscar began cleaning the altar, Y/n started sweeping the floor, the soft swish of the broom mingling with the hushed conversations of the churchgoers.

The congregation seemed unbothered by their presence, as it was a fairly normal sight to see the altar boys tending to the altar and Y/n cleaning. They went about their tasks quietly, the only sounds being the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional clink of metal as Oscar polished the candlesticks.

As Y/n swept, her mind wandered back to her conversation with Alexandra. She couldn't help but think about what it would be like to be with Oscar, to feel his strong hands on her body, to taste his lips against hers. The thought made her cheeks flush with heat, and she quickly pushed it aside, focusing instead on the task at hand.

Y/n found herself zoning out, her mind wandering as she swept the same spots over and over again, as if trying to erase some invisible stain. She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice when Oscar had finished cleaning the altar and had moved on to wiping down the glass cases that held the statues of various saints.

It wasn't until she heard the soft clink of glass that Y/n snapped back to reality, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized how distracted she had been. She glanced over at Oscar, who was diligently working his way down the line of statues, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as she watched him work. She couldn't help but admire the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt, the way his hair fell across his forehead as he leaned in to clean the higher shelves. It was almost enough to make her forget where they were, to make her want to reach out and touch him, consequences be damned.

She quickly made her way back behind the altar, putting the broom away in its designated spot. She then headed to the front pew, the same place she had sat in yesterday and for years before, having been the one to always read the second readings during mass.

As she settled onto the hard wooden bench, Y/n let out a soft sigh, her chest rising and falling with each breath. She could still feel the heat of Oscar's presence, the way her heart had raced as she watched him work. It was almost too much to bear, the desire that coursed through her veins, the longing to be close to him.

Y/n closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the pew as she tried to calm her racing thoughts. She knew it was wrong, that she should be focused on her faith, on serving God, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to Oscar's presence.

As she sat there, lost in thought, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to change, that her life was about to take a turn she never could have anticipated.

Y/n's eyes fluttered open as she felt the pew shift slightly beside her. She turned her head to see Oscar settling in next to her, a slightly damp rag clutched in his hand.

"Man, that was exhausting," he said, his voice low and tired. "I don't know how you do it, Y/n. Cleaning this whole place by yourself."

Y/n smiled softly, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice so close to her. "It's not so bad," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's kind of peaceful, actually. A chance to clear my head and just... be."

She shifted slightly, her thigh brushing against Oscar's as she did so. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and she felt her cheeks flush with heat.

Oscar turned to look at Y/n, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Be...?" he repeated, his voice trailing off as he searched her face for answers.

Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as she tried to find the right words to explain the turmoil that raged within her. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm not really living, you know? Like I'm just going through the motions, pretending to be someone I'm not."

She paused, her gaze drifting to the stained glass windows that cast a puzzle of colors across the sanctuary. "But when I'm here, cleaning, praying... it's like I can finally breathe. Like I can finally be myself."

Oscar nodded slowly, his eyes softening with understanding. "I know what you mean," he said, his voice low and earnest. "Sometimes it feels like the whole world is expecting us to be something we're not. To fit into these perfect little boxes that don't really exist."

Y/n let out a quiet groan, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the pew. "This is making me sad," she admitted, her voice heavy with emotion.

Oscar's brow furrowed with concern, and he reached out to place a comforting hand on Y/n's arm. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, his thumb rubbing small circles on her skin. "Let's do something fun. How about we go get a milkshake at the diner?"

Y/n's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. "Sure," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "That sounds perfect."

They stood up from the pew, Oscar's hand lingering on Y/n's arm for a moment longer than necessary. As they made their way out of the church, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with nervousness. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way, but she couldn't deny the way her heart raced at the prospect of spending more time with Oscar.

The diner was a short, five-minute walk away from the church, nestled on the corner of Main Street. As they stepped inside, the bell above the door chimed, announcing their arrival. The scent of fried food and coffee hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sound of clinking dishes and low chatter.

Oscar led the way to a booth in the back, sliding in across from Y/n. She watched as he flagged down the waitress, ordering a chocolate milkshake for himself and a vanilla one for her. Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, a soft blush coloring her cheeks.

"Vanilla is my favorite," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "How did you know?"

Oscar grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Your dad talks about you a lot," he admitted, his voice low and conspiratorial. "I may have picked up a few things."

Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at the thought of her father talking about her, of Oscar taking the time to listen and remember the little details.

As the milkshakes arrived, Y/n found her mind drifting back to her conversation with Alexandra. The words "seduce him" echoed in her head, a tantalizing whisper that set her heart racing.

Without thinking, Y/n reached for the whipped cream on top of her milkshake, scooping up a dollop with her finger. She brought it to her lips, her tongue darting out to lick it off slowly and deliberately. It was an innocent gesture, but there was something undeniably sensual about the way she did it, the way her eyes locked with Oscar's as she savored the sweetness.

"Mmm, delicious," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "I love vanilla."

Oscar's eyes widened, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Y/n's lips, from the way they glistened with the remnants of the whipped cream.

"I... I'm glad you like it," he stammered, his voice rough with emotion.

Y/n tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering on the soft skin of her neck. She bent forward, her lips parting as she took the cherry from the top of the whipped cream, her tongue darting out to catch the sweet, sticky juice.

She sat back up, a playful laugh escaping her lips as she caught Oscar's wide-eyed stare. He was praying in his head, begging God not to tempt him like this, to keep him pure and innocent. But with each passing moment, each glimpse of Y/n's flesh, his resolve was crumbling.

"What's the matter, Oscar?" Y/n teased, her voice low and sultry. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Oscar swallowed hard, his throat dry and tight. "N-nothing," he stammered, his eyes darting away from hers. "I'm fine."

As they sipped their milkshakes, Y/n continued her innocent yet seductive antics. She ran her fingers along the rim of the glass, her eyes never leaving Oscar's face as she watched him squirm in his seat.

"So tell me, Oscar," she purred, her voice low and breathy. "What do you like to do for fun?"

Oscar nearly choked on his milkshake, coughing and sputtering as he tried to regain his composure. "I... I like to read," he managed, his voice hoarse. "And play guitar. And... and help out at the church."

Y/n leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she propped her chin in her hands. "That's nice," she said, her voice dripping with honey. "I bet you're really good with your hands. With the guitar, I mean."

Y/n leaned back in her seat, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she took another sip of her milkshake. "You know, Oscar," she said, her voice low and sultry, "I've always wondered what it would be like to play the guitar."

She set her glass down, her tongue darting out to lick a stray drop of milkshake from the corner of her mouth. "Maybe you could teach me sometime," she purred, her gaze never leaving his. "I'm a quick learner."

Oscar's heart was pounding in his chest, his palms sweaty as he gripped the edge of the table. He knew he should put a stop to this, to tell Y/n that he couldn't be her teacher, that it was wrong. But the temptation was too great, the desire too strong.

"I... I'd be happy to teach you," he managed, his voice rough with emotion. "Anytime you want."

Y/n smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Okay, I'll think about it," she said, her voice light and airy. As she shifted in her seat, her foot brushed against Oscar's thigh, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through his body.

"Oops," she giggled, her cheeks flushing with feigned innocence. "Sorry about that."

Oscar's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to maintain his composure. He knew it was just an accident, that Y/n didn't mean anything by it. But the way she looked at him, the way her foot lingered on his thigh, it was enough to drive him wild with desire.

"It's... it's okay," he managed, his voice hoarse and strained. "Accidents happen."

Y/n leaned forward, her eyes wide and innocent as she looked up at Oscar through her lashes. "Hey, Oscar," she said, her voice soft and sweet. "Can I try a sip of your milkshake? I've never had the chocolate flavor before. My dad always gets the black coffee, and I've just been getting vanilla ever since I was a kid."

Oscar's heart skipped a beat at the request, his mind racing with the implications. He knew it was just a milkshake, just a simple, innocent gesture. But the way Y/n looked at him, the way her lips parted as she waited for his answer, it was enough to make his head spin.

"Sure," he managed, his voice rough with emotion. He slid his glass across the table, his fingers brushing against hers as she reached for it.

Y/n wrapped her lips around the straw, her eyes never leaving Oscar's as she took a long, slow sip. She let out a soft moan of appreciation, savoring the taste.

"Mmm, it's good," Y/n purred, her eyes half-lidded as she set the glass back down on the table. "But I still prefer my vanilla milkshake."

She took another sip of her own drink, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of cream on her bottom lip. "There's just something about the simplicity of vanilla, you know? It's pure, untainted. Innocent."

Oscar swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He knew Y/n was just talking about the milkshake, but the way she spoke, the way her words seemed to hang in the air between them, it was enough to make his head spin.

"I... I understand," he managed, his voice hoarse. "Vanilla is a classic for a reason."

Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Exactly," she said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. "Sometimes, the simplest things are the most satisfying."

Y/n leaned back in her seat, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked up at Oscar. "Hey, Oscar," she said, her voice low and sultry. "My dad's not going to be home tonight, so I was thinking... maybe you could come over later and help me practice guitar?"

She bit her lip, her teeth sinking into the soft, plump flesh as she waited for his response. "We could stay up late, just the two of us. I'm sure you could teach me a thing or two."

Oscar's heart was pounding in his chest, his palms sweaty as he gripped the edge of the table. He knew it was a bad idea, that he should say no, that he should run as far away from Y/n as possible. But the temptation was too great, the desire too strong.

"I'd- I'd love to," he managed, his voice rough but hesitant. "Just give me a call when you're ready."

Y/n clapped her hands together, her face lighting up with excitement. "Yay!" she exclaimed, her voice high and girlish. "I can't wait to learn how to play guitar."

She leaned back in her seat, her demeanor shifting to something more playful and innocent. As they continued to talk, Oscar found himself struggling to focus, his mind still reeling from Y/n's bold flirtation.

He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, his skin flushed and tingling with a strange new sensation. He had never felt so... desired before, so wanted. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, a rush of adrenaline that left him breathless and dizzy.

Throughout the rest of their conversation, Oscar found himself stealing glances at Y/n, his eyes lingering on the curve of her lips, and the softness of her skin. He knew it was wrong, that he should push these feelings aside and focus on his faith, but he couldn't help the way his heart raced at the thought of seeing her again later, of being alone with her in the privacy of her home.

Y/n walked towards the door, her heart racing with anticipation. She had chosen her outfit carefully, wanting to strike a balance between comfort and allure. She wore a pair of shorts that were short enough to reveal an unholy amount of skin, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places.

On top, she had opted for a white shirt that was sheer enough to hint at the outline of her bra beneath, the delicate lace peeking through the thin fabric, contrasting the gold cross necklace she had worn her entire life

As she reached for the doorknob, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the evening ahead. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way about Oscar. But she couldn't deny the thrill that ran through her at the thought of being alone with him, of having his undivided attention.

With a final twist of the knob, Y/n pulled open the door, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Oscar standing on the other side. "Hey there," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "Come on in."

Oscar stepped inside, his eyes widening as he took in Y/n's appearance. "Thanks for inviting me," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "No need to thank me, Oscar," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "I'm the one who should be thanking you for agreeing to teach me."

She gestured towards the living room, her hips swaying slightly as she walked. "We can practice in here, it's nice and spacious. But fair warning, it's a bit hot in here. No AC."

Y/n turned back to face him, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Or we could practice in my room. It's a bit smaller, but the AC works perfectly. Your choice."

"I think I'd prefer a cold room over a hot one," he said shyly, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

She shot him a warm smile, "Okay, follow me." She gestured, making her way up the stairs.

scar's gaze flickered over the photos lining the walls as Y/n led him upstairs, his heart clenching at the sight of her and her father together. There were pictures of them at the beach, at her graduation, at various milestones throughout her life. Occasionally, a photo of Alexandra and Y/n would appear, the two girls grinning at the camera, their arms slung around each other's waists.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Y/n paused, turning to face Oscar. "My room's just down the hall," she said, her voice soft. "Last door on the right."

She started walking again, her hips swaying slightly as she moved. Oscar followed behind her, his eyes glued to the gentle curve of her spine, the way her shirt clung to her back.

When they reached her room, Y/n pushed open the door, gesturing for Oscar to enter. "After you," she purred, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

The room was exactly as Oscar had imagined it would be. Simple, minimalistic, with a white metal bed frame and a small crucifix hanging above it. In the corner, there was a small altar with a statue of the Virgin Mary, and on the bedside table, a pink pearl rosary lay coiled neatly. The bedspread was mostly white, with delicate pink flowers scattered across the surface, and the pillowcases were the reverse, with a pink background and white flowers.

"You can sit wherever you're comfortable," Y/n said, gesturing to the bed and the floor. "I'll go grab my dad's guitar."

As she turned to leave, Oscar's eyes lingered on the bed, on the soft, inviting surface. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He was here to teach Y/n how to play guitar, nothing more.

He settled himself on the edge of the bed, his fingers tracing the intricate pattern of the bedspread. The room was cool and quiet, the hum of the air conditioner a soothing background noise.

As he waited for Y/n to return, he couldn't help but notice the subtle details of her room. There was a faint, delicate scent of jasmine in the air, which he later discovered came from a small air freshener perched on her dresser. Everywhere he looked, there were hints of innocence - the soft pink hues of her bedding, the occasional hair tie scattered on her nightstand, the various rings she wore on her slender fingers.

On the wall, there was a framed dried flower, its petals faded and brittle with age. Oscar wondered about its significance, about the memories it held for Y/n.

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Y/n entering the room, a guitar case in her hands. She set it down on the bed beside him, her fingers lingering on the smooth, worn leather.

"Okay," she said, her voice bright and eager. "Let's get started."

Oscar helped Y/n remove the guitar from its case, his fingers brushing against hers as he took it from her hands. He held it up, examining it closely. "When was the last time this was tuned?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Y/n bit her lip, her eyes darting away from his. "To be honest, we haven't used it in about two years," she admitted, her voice sheepish. "We kind of forgot about it."

Oscar nodded, his fingers plucking at the strings experimentally. They were out of tune, the notes discordant and jarring. "No worries," he said, his voice reassuring. "We can tune it right now."

He sat down on the bed, patting the space beside him for Y/n to join. As she settled in next to him, Oscar began to tune the guitar, his fingers moving deftly over the strings. The room filled with the soft, melodic sounds of the instrument coming to life, the notes blending together in perfect harmony.

Oscar finished tuning the guitar and handed it to Y/n, his fingers lingering on hers for a moment longer than necessary. "Here you go," he said, his voice soft. "Now, let's start with the basics."

He sat beside her on the bed, his leg brushing against hers as he demonstrated the proper way to hold the guitar. "Keep your thumb behind the neck of the guitar," he instructed, his hand guiding hers. "And wrap your fingers around the fretboard like this."

As he showed her how to position her fingers, Oscar couldn't help but notice the way Y/n's hands felt in his, the softness of her skin, the delicate strength in her fingers. He swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Now, let's try strumming," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. He reached over, his hand covering hers as he guided the pick across the strings. The guitar came alive under their touch, the notes ringing out clear and bright.

"Good job," Oscar said, his voice warm with approval. He leaned in closer, his eyes focused on the way Y/n was holding the guitar. It seemed awkward, her fingers splayed across the fretboard in an unnatural position.

As he tried to adjust her grip, his gaze drifted lower, drawn to the tantalizing glimpse of cleavage peeking out from the neckline of her shirt. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as his eyes lingered on the soft swell of her breasts.

Realizing what he was doing, Oscar quickly closed his eyes, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He couldn't let himself be tempted like this, not when he was supposed to be teaching her, guiding her.

He forced himself to focus on the guitar, on the feel of the smooth wood beneath his fingers, the cool metal of the strings. "Let's try that again," he said, his voice strained. "This time, keep your wrist straight, like this."

His hand covered hers once more, his touch gentle but firm as he guided her through the proper technique.

As Y/n began to get the hang of the guitar, her fingers moving more confidently across the fretboard, Oscar felt a sense of pride and accomplishment. She was a natural, her hands seeming to instinctively find the right positions, the right chords.

But then, in a moment of enthusiasm, Y/n applied too much pressure to one of the strings, the sharp edge of the fret digging into her fingertip. She gasped, her hand jerking away from the guitar as a thin line of blood welled up on her finger.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise and pain. She brought her finger to her mouth, sucking on the wound instinctively.

Oscar's heart clenched at the sight, his hand reaching out to steady the guitar as it threatened to slip from her lap. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Y/n nodded, her eyes meeting his. "It's just a little cut," she said, her voice muffled by her finger. "Nothing serious."

Oscar could see the pain in Y/n's eyes, the way she was trying to hold back tears. His heart ached for her, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. "Let me see," he said softly, his thumb brushing over the cut on her finger.

"It must hurt," he murmured, his brow furrowed with concern. "Do you have a bandaid here?"

Y/n nodded, pointing to the small desk in the corner of her room. "Yeah, there's a box in the drawer."

He stood up, crossing the room to retrieve the bandages. As he rummaged through the drawer, he couldn't help but notice the personal items scattered amongst the clutter- a hairbrush, a tube of lip gloss, a few loose change. He felt a pang of guilt for intruding on her private space but pushed the feeling aside.

He returned to the bed, sitting down beside Y/n once more. "Here," he said, holding out a small, square bandage. "Let me put this on for you."

Oscar carefully applied the bandage to Y/n's finger, his touch gentle and precise. As he finished, their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. There was only the two of them, the warmth of the room, the softness of the bed beneath them.

Before Oscar could react, Y/n leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a tender kiss. He froze for a moment, his mind reeling with shock and confusion. But as Y/n's lips moved against his, he found himself kissing her back, his own inexperience evident in the awkward, tentative movements of his mouth.

Y/n could tell that Oscar hadn't kissed anyone before, and a part of her was thrilled at the idea of being his first. She deepened the kiss, her tongue darting out to trace the seam of his lips, coaxing him to open for her.

Oscar pulled away from the kiss, his heart pounding in his chest. He was flustered, his mind spinning with a whirlwind of emotions and desires. "Y/n, we can't," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is the devil tempting us, trying to lead us astray."

But Y/n wasn't having it. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear. "Then why does it feel so good?" she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Tell me you want me too, Oscar. I don't care if we're going to hell for it. I just need you."

Her words sent a shiver down Oscar's spine, his body responding to her touch, her proximity. He knew it was wrong, that he should resist, that he should push her away. But the desire coursing through his veins was too strong, too overwhelming.

"I... I do want you," he admitted, his voice trembling with longing. "But we can't. It's not right."

Y/n's eyes gleamed with determination as she gazed into Oscar's conflicted face. She knew she had him on the hook, and she wasn't about to let him slip away.

"Oscar," she purred, her voice low and seductive. "Don't you believe that God forgives those who truly repent? That He understands the weakness of the flesh?"

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "We can give in to this temptation, just this once. And then we can confess our sins, ask for forgiveness. It's not like we're doing anything truly sinful, after all. We're human, we can sin every once in a while."

Oscar's breath hitched in his throat, his resolve crumbling under the weight of Y/n's persuasive words. He knew what she was saying made sense, that it was a logical argument. But still, a small part of him hesitated, unsure if he was truly ready to cross that line.

Y/n's words washed over Oscar like a tidal wave, eroding his resistance with each passing second. "It's a sign, Oscar," she breathed, her eyes wide and imploring. "Look around you. It's just the two of us, nobody to disturb us, nobody to judge us. Maybe it's meant to be. Maybe we're meant to give in to our desires, just this one time."

Her hands slid up his chest, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. Oscar's heart raced, his body responding to her touch despite his mind's protests. He knew what she was saying made sense, that they were alone, that no one would ever know. But still, a part of him hesitated, unsure if he was truly ready to cross that line.

Y/n leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches from his. "Please, Oscar," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "I need you. I want you. Let's just forget about everything else for a while and focus on each other."

Oscar's resolve was crumbling, his body betraying his mind as Y/n's seductive words washed over him. "But they're watching," he whispered, his eyes darting to the crucifix and the statue of the Virgin Mary.

Y/n followed his gaze, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Let them watch," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "They know this is natural, Oscar. They'll understand. It's not like we're committing some unforgivable sin."

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "God created us with these desires, Oscar. He wouldn't condemn us for acting on them."

His heart raced, his body responding to Y/n's touch despite his mind's protests. He knew what she was saying made sense, that it was a logical argument.

Y/n's hands slid down Oscar's chest, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt. "Don't you see, Oscar?" she breathed, her eyes dark with desire. "This is meant to be. We're meant to be together, to share this moment. It's a gift from God."

Her lips trailed along his jawline, her teeth grazing his skin. "Think about it," she murmured, her voice low and seductive. "We're alone, with no one to disturb us. No one to judge us. It's like we're in our own little world, a world where the only thing that matters is us."

Oscar's breath hitched in his throat, his body responding to Y/n's touch despite his mind's protests. He knew what she was saying made sense, that it was a logical argument. But still, a part of him hesitated, unsure if he was truly ready to cross that line.

Oscar's resistance finally crumbled, his body melting into Y/n's embrace as he returned her kisses with a shy, tentative passion. "I... I don't know how to please a woman," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've never... I'm a virgin."

Y/n's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before being replaced by a look of tender understanding. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured, her fingers caressing his cheek. "I'll guide you, Oscar. We'll take it slow, and I'll show you everything you need to know."

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Just trust me, and let yourself feel. Let yourself experience the pleasure that God has gifted us with."

Y/n gently guided Oscar to sit on the edge of the bed, her hands resting on his shoulders. "Just relax," she murmured, her voice soft and reassuring. "I'll take care of you."

She knelt down in front of him, her eyes level with his crotch. Slowly, teasingly, she ran her hands up his thighs, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles through the fabric of his jeans.

Oscar's breath hitched in his throat, his body responding to her touch despite his nervousness. He had never been this intimate with anyone before, and the thought of Y/n touching him in such a way both thrilled and terrified him.

Y/n's fingers dug into Oscar's thighs, her nails lightly scraping against his skin as she squeezed and massaged the firm muscle. She could feel him shudder under her touch, his body responding to her teasing caresses.

A wicked smile played on her lips as she heard his sharp intake of breath. She loved seeing him like this, vulnerable and at her mercy. It was a heady feeling, knowing that she had the power to make him tremble with desire.

Slowly, deliberately, she reached for the zipper of his jeans, her fingers toying with the metal tab. She could see the bulge in his pants, the evidence of his arousal, and it only served to fuel her own desire.

With a swift tug, she pulled down his zipper, the sound of the metal teeth parting echoing in the quiet room. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and boxers, pulling them down in one smooth motion until they pooled around his ankles.

Oscar flinched as Y/n eagerly tugged down his jeans and boxers, exposing his most intimate parts to her hungry gaze. Feeling shy and embarrassed by her boldness, he quickly covered his face and mouth with one hand, hiding behind it as she began to touch him.

Y/n's fingers danced along his inner thighs, slowly making their way higher and higher. She could feel his body trembling under her touch, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She reveled in the power she held over him, in the way she could make him quiver with just a simple caress.

"Relax, Oscar," she purred, her voice low and seductive. "There's no need to be shy. I'm going to make you feel so good."

Her hand wrapped around his hardening length, her fingers stroking him slowly, teasingly. Oscar let out a low moan, his hips bucking involuntarily as she touched him.

Oscar whimpered as Y/n's fingers danced along his sensitive skin, her touch both tantalizing and overwhelming. "Have you ever touched yourself?" she asked, her voice low and seductive.

Oscar's face flushed a deep crimson, his eyes darting away from hers. "N-no," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n chuckled, her fingers continuing their teasing exploration. "I don't believe you," she purred, her thumb grazing the tip of his hardening length.

He let out a low moan, his hips bucking involuntarily as she touched him. "I... I tried," he admitted, his voice trembling with embarrassment. "But I didn't know how."

Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Give me your hand," she purred, her voice low and seductive.

Oscar hesitated for a moment, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. But as Y/n's fingers intertwined with his, he found himself giving in to her guidance.

She wrapped his hand around his hardening length, her fingers gently curling around his own. "Like this," she murmured, her voice soft and encouraging. "You can go slow."

She guided his hand in a slow, steady rhythm, her fingers gliding along his shaft with each stroke. Oscar let out a low moan, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the sensation.

"Or you can go faster," Y/n whispered, her hand speeding up the pace. Oscar gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily as she increased the intensity of his strokes.

Oscar's shy moans filled the room as Y/n continued to guide his hand, her fingers curling around his own as she showed him how to stroke himself. "That feels good, doesn't it?" she purred, her voice low and seductive.

He nodded, his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself in the sensation. He had never felt anything like this before, the pleasure coursing through his body like a raging river.

Y/n's hand sped up, her fingers gliding along his shaft with each stroke. Oscar's breath came in short, sharp gasps, his hips bucking involuntarily as she increased the intensity of his pleasure.

"You're doing so well, Oscar," she murmured, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Just let yourself feel it. Let yourself enjoy it."

Y/n's fingers slowed their strokes, her hand still intertwined with Oscar's as she guided him. "I'm going to do something now," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Don't freak out, okay?"

Oscar nodded, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Okay," he managed to choke out, his eyes wide with anticipation and nervousness.

Slowly, teasingly, Y/n leaned forward, her lips parting as she took the tip of his cock into her mouth. Oscar let out a low, guttural moan, his fingers tightening around hers as he felt the warm, wet heat of her mouth enveloping him.

Her head bobbed up and down, her lips sealed tightly around Oscar's shaft as she began to suck. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive tip, her cheeks hollowing as she increased the suction.

Oscar's fingers tightened around hers, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. But as Y/n guided his hands away from his cock, he found himself letting go, his palms coming to rest on her shoulders as she took him deeper into her mouth.

The cross necklace around Y/n's neck dangled and swayed with each movement of her head, the gold chain catching the light as it brushed against her skin. Oscar watched, transfixed, as the symbol of her faith bounced and twirled, a stark contrast to the act she was performing.

Y/n's lips stretched around his length, her throat constricting as she took him deeper and deeper. Oscar's head fell back, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lost himself in the intense pleasure of her mouth.

Oscar's eyes rolled back in his head as Y/n's mouth worked its magic on his throbbing length. "Oh my god," he groaned, the words tumbling from his lips without a second thought.

For a brief moment, the realization that he had just taken the Lord's name in vain flashed through his mind. But the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body quickly pushed any thoughts of sin or guilt aside.

Y/n's tongue swirled around his shaft, her lips sealed tightly around him as she bobbed her head up and down. The wet, obscene sounds of her sucking filled the room, mingling with Oscar's breathy moans and gasps.

He tangled his fingers in her hair, his hips rocking back and forth as he lost himself in the sensation. Nothing else mattered in that moment - not his faith, not his vows, not the consequences of his actions. All that existed was the feeling of Y/n's mouth on his cock, and the all-consuming need for more.

Y/n could feel Oscar's body tensing, his grip on her hair loosening as he neared his climax. His moans grew louder, more desperate, his hips rocking erratically as he chased his release.

But just as he was about to reach the peak, Y/n abruptly stopped, pulling her mouth away from his throbbing length. Oscar let out a strangled cry, his body writhing with frustration.

"No, please, don't stop," he begged, his voice hoarse and pleading. "It felt so good. Please, I need..."

Y/n placed a finger against his lips, silencing him. "Shh, it's okay," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Calm down. It'll feel even better later, I promise. Just trust me on this, okay?"

Oscar's breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with need. But as he looked into Y/n's eyes, he found himself nodding, his trust in her overriding his desperation.

Y/n smiled, pleased with Oscar's compliance. "Good boy," she purred, her eyes roaming hungrily over his nearly naked form. "Now, why don't you take off the rest of your clothes for me?"

Oscar nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he reached for the hem of his shirt. He pulled it over his head, tossing it aside carelessly before kicking off his jeans, which were still bunched around his ankles.

In his haste to obey Y/n's command, Oscar didn't even notice that she was undressing as well. His eyes were fixed on her face, his body trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

Y/n's fingers deftly traced the bottom of her shirt, her hips swaying seductively as she slipped it off her shoulders. Her bra followed soon after, revealing her pert breasts to Oscar's wide-eyed gaze. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, shimmying out of it before sliding her panties down her legs.

Oscar's face flushed a deep crimson as he took in the sight of Y/n's naked body. He wanted to speak, to express the multitude of emotions and desires coursing through him. But the words caught in his throat, his shyness overpowering his courage.

Y/n noticed his hesitation, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Do you need to say anything, Oscar?" she asked, her voice low and inviting. "Don't be shy. It's just the two of us here."

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I... I just..." he stammered, his eyes darting away from hers. "I've never seen a girl naked before. You're so beautiful."

Y/n's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with approval. "Thank you, Oscar," she purred, taking a step closer to him. "And you're pretty cute yourself."

She reached out, her fingers trailing down his chest, his abs, his hips. Oscar shivered under her touch, his body responding to her closeness despite his nervousness.

Y/n noticed Oscar's nervousness, the way his body trembled under her touch. She leaned in, capturing his lips in a soft, gentle kiss. "Hey," she whispered, her breath mingling with his. "Calm down for me, okay? You need to relax."

Oscar's eyes fluttered open, his gaze meeting hers. "S-sorry," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just a bit scared."

Y/n smiled, her fingers tracing the contours of his face. "It's okay to be scared," she murmured, her lips brushing against his forehead. "But I'm here with you. I won't let anything happen to you."

She kissed him again, her lips moving softly against his. Oscar melted into the kiss, his fears slowly dissipating as he lost himself in the sensation of her touch, her warmth, her presence.

Y/n noticed the worried expression on Oscar's face, his body tense and uncertain. She cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking his skin. "Hey," she whispered, her voice soft and reassuring. "I'm okay. Don't worry."

She leaned in, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. As she did, she rocked her hips, taking him deeper inside her. A gasp escaped her lips, her eyes widening as she felt him stretch her further.

"Fuck," she breathed, her voice strained with a mix of pleasure and discomfort. "You're huge."

Oscar's eyes widened, his body relaxing slightly at her words. He had never heard such a compliment before, and it sent a surge of confidence coursing through him.

Y/n smiled, her hips moving in small, circular motions. "See?" she purred, her lips curling into a seductive smirk. "I can handle you. Just relax and let me take care of you."

Oscar nodded, his body relaxing under Y/n's guidance. "Okay," he breathed, his voice trembling with anticipation.

As Y/n began to move, Oscar's eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth falling open in a silent cry of pleasure. "Oh god," he gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily as she rode him. "Oh fu- oh my god."

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "It's okay to swear. It's just between us."

Oscar's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "Fuck," he breathed, the word falling from his lips like a forbidden fruit. "Fuck, Y/n. You feel so good."

She smiled, her hips moving faster, harder. "That's it," she purred, her voice encouraging. "Let go. Say whatever you want. No one's here to judge us."

Y/n's eyes sparkled with mischief as she heard Oscar swear, his voice trembling with pleasure. "That's it," she purred, her hips moving faster, harder. "You sound so pretty when you swear."

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "God forbid my father ever finds out," she whispered, her voice low and conspiratorial. "But I'd gladly risk it if it meant I could hear this every night."

Oscar's eyes widened, his body tensing at the thought of being discovered. But the pleasure coursing through him was too intense to ignore, and he found himself pushing the thought aside, focusing instead on the feeling of Y/n's body moving against his.

Y/n threw her head back, a loud moan escaping her lips as Oscar hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. "Fuck, right there baby," she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders.

But as she felt him tense beneath her, his body shaking with a mix of pleasure and panic, she realized what was happening. "Stop, stop," he whimpered, his voice muffled against her neck. "I-I think I'm gonna pee."

Her eyes widened, but she quickly reassured him. "No, you're not," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. "That's just your body's way of telling you you're about to cum."

As if on cue, Oscar's body convulsed, his hips bucking as he released inside her. Y/n gasped, her own orgasm crashing over her as she felt him fill her with his seed.

They lay there for a moment, their breaths gradually slowing as they came down from their high. But as the post-orgasmic haze began to lift, reality started to set in.

Oscar buried his face in Y/n's neck, his voice muffled as he spoke. "That was so... oh my god..."

Y/n's arms tightened around him, her fingers running through his hair in a soothing gesture. "I know," she whispered, her voice soft and understanding. "It's a lot to take in."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his face. "Are you okay?" she asked, her brow furrowed with concern. "I mean, physically. Did I hurt you at all?"

Oscar shook his head, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "No," he mumbled, his eyes darting away from hers. "I'm fine. Just... overwhelmed."

Y/n smiled, her fingers tracing the contours of Oscar's face. "That's okay," she murmured, her voice soft and reassuring. "It's normal to feel overwhelmed after your first time. Just take a deep breath and try to relax."

But before Oscar could respond, a loud crack of thunder echoed outside, followed by the sound of heavy rain pelting against the window. Oscar's eyes widened, his body tensing at the sudden noise.

"What was that?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and confusion.

Y/n glanced towards the window, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's just rain," she explained, her fingers still tracing patterns on his skin. "A big storm must have rolled in while we were... distracted."

Oscar's eyes darted between Y/n and the window, his mind struggling to process the new sensory input. The sound of the rain, the flashes of lightning illuminating the room, the scent of petrichor wafting through the air - it was all too much for his overstimulated senses to handle.

She felt his body tense against hers as another clap of thunder boomed outside. She could sense his fear, his discomfort with the sudden storm. "Okay, lay down for me," she murmured, her voice soft and soothing. "You can use the pillows to cover your ears while I go downstairs, okay?"

He nodded, his face still buried in the crook of her neck. He slowly laid down on the bed, his hands clutching the pillows tightly to his ears.

Y/n smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "I'll call your mom on the landline and let her know you're staying over tonight," she explained, her fingers tracing the shell of his ear. "I can't let you walk home in this rain."

Oscar's eyes widened, a flicker of panic crossing his features. "But my mom..." he started, his voice muffled by the pillows.

"Shh, it's okay," Y/n reassured him, her lips brushing against his temple. "I'll explain everything. Just try to relax, okay?"

Y/n slipped out of the bedroom, pulling her clothes back on. As she made her way downstairs, she glanced back at Oscar, who was lying on the bed staring out the window. His ears were still covered with the pillow, and the bottom half of his body was now draped with the blanket.

She couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, his vulnerability and innocence shining through despite the intimate act they had just shared. She knew he was scared, overwhelmed by the storm and the new experiences of the day. But she also knew that he trusted her, that he felt safe with her.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation with Oscar's mother. She knew it wouldn't be easy, to explain why her son was spending the night during a thunderstorm. But she also knew that it was the right thing to do, to keep him safe and protected.

Y/n picked up the phone and dialed Oscar's mother's number, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she waited for the call to connect.

When Nicole answered, Y/n explained the situation, her voice trembling slightly. "Hi Nicole, it's Y/n. I'm so sorry to call you out of the blue like this, but... Oscar is here with me. We were practicing guitar when the storm hit, and it's just too dangerous for him to walk home right now."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and Y/n's heart sank. But then Nicole's voice came through, warm and understanding. "Oh honey, don't worry about it. I was actually just about to call you. I was going to ask if Oscar could stay the night, because I don't want him walking home in this weather either."

Y/n let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging as the tension drained from her body. "Thank you so much, Nicole," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "I really appreciate your understanding."

Y/n hung up the phone, a wave of relief washing over her. She had been so worried about how Nicole would react, but her understanding and support had put Y/n's mind at ease.

She made her way back upstairs, her footsteps soft on the carpeted steps. As she entered the bedroom, she found Oscar still lying on the bed, his ears covered with the pillow and his body tucked under the blanket.

"Everything's okay," she said softly, perching on the edge of the bed. "Your mom knows you're here, and she's happy for you to stay the night. She was actually just about to call and ask me the same thing."

Oscar's eyes widened, the pillow slipping slightly as he turned to look at her. "Really?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and relief.

Y/n nodded, smiling reassuringly. "Really. She understands about the storm, and she doesn't want you walking home in this weather either."

Y/n rummaged through her closet, pulling out an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. They were clearly her father's clothes, the shirt hanging loosely on her frame as she held them out to Oscar.

"Come on, sit up," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Let me help you get changed."

Oscar hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. But the thought of wearing his own wet, sticky clothes made him shudder, and he slowly sat up, the blanket falling away from his body.

Y/n helped him into the oversized shirt, the fabric swallowing his smaller frame. She then handed him the shorts, averting her eyes as he slipped them on.

"There," she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Comfy?"

Oscar nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at the oversized clothes. They were comfortable, and he felt a sense of safety and security wearing them.

But as he went to stand up, he suddenly pulled Y/n down with him, plopping back onto the bed. She let out a small "oof" of surprise, but didn't comment on it, realizing that he was just tired and seeking comfort.

Oscar wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he snuggled into the pillow. Y/n could feel his body relaxing against hers, his breathing slowing as he drifted off to sleep.

She smiled, her fingers gently stroking his hair as she watched him sleep. Despite the events of the day, the intimacy they had shared, she felt a sense of peace wash over her.

The following Sunday, Y/n and Oscar found themselves back at church, sitting in their usual pews. Y/n was scheduled to read a Bible verse about lust, a topic that had taken on a whole new meaning since their encounter last week.

As she stood up to approach the podium, Y/n couldn't help but steal a glance at Oscar. Her eyes met his, and she saw his cheeks flush a deep crimson, his gaze darting away from hers.

She suppressed a smile, remembering the intimate moments they had shared. The thought of the pastor's daughter and an altar server engaging in such activities would surely raise some eyebrows if anyone found out.

Y/n cleared her throat, the microphone crackling to life as she began to read the verse. "For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God..."

taglist:

@nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii

@livsturnioloo @callsignwidow @anamiad00msday @morgrinha @zestytimbit

@si1ver06 @lilorose25

[dissapointu]

I'm dying here, 4 tests, course, my house is a mess and I just wanted to sleep 12 hours straight.

Can I request for Arcane X characters scary!reader I think they would be a big person with a look at me and I'll break your neck vibe, but they are sweet with their partners.

Drink water, stay well 👋🏻

I totally get the feeling of being overwhelmed, but take a deep breath! You’ve got this. I’ll take your request and make it worth your while with some headcanons. These characters would absolutely be intrigued by an intimidating, “look at me and I’ll break your neck” type of reader who is sweet with them.

————————————————————————

Jinx

Jinx’s initial reaction is pure curiosity mixed with excitement. She’s not intimidated easily, so when she first meets you, she’s all over the place—sizing you up with a wild grin. The cold stare you give anyone who dares challenge you only fuels her chaos-loving spirit.

“Oh, I like this one!” Jinx cackles, bouncing around you with pure glee. “You could totally crush someone with just a look!” Her eyes gleam as she watches you—she admires your confidence.

When you’re sweet to her, though, Jinx melts. Your soft side balances out the sharp edges of your persona, and she clings to you like a koala. “You’re so soft with me, though,” she says with a grin, “but the second someone tries to mess with us… BAM! I’ll be ready to blow something up!”

Vi

Vi respects strength, and she can immediately tell you have it. The way you carry yourself, the air around you—it speaks volumes. While most people might shrink back, Vi doesn’t flinch. She’s more intrigued by the fact that you’re a force to be reckoned with, yet you’re still affectionate with her.

When you show her your softer side, she feels an intense mix of pride and adoration. “I gotta admit, babe,” she says, flashing a grin, “seeing you toss someone into the nearest wall makes me a little jealous… but I love how gentle you are with me.”

Vi would always stand by your side in a fight, but she’ll be the first to keep you grounded and remind you that you don’t have to use your strength all the time. She’s happy to see the layers beneath your intimidating exterior.

Sevika

Sevika sees herself in you—a strong, no-nonsense type who doesn’t take crap from anyone. She’s genuinely impressed by your intimidating aura, and she can’t help but feel a little protective. She might be a bit reserved, but she always notices the way people act around you.

“Not many can make people shut up with a glance,” she muses, her eyes narrowing with admiration. When you’re sweet with her, Sevika’s face softens, and she’ll often pull you close, knowing no one else will get close to you as easily. “Don’t let your guard down, babe,” she’ll whisper, “But don’t worry—I’ll take care of you.”

She knows what you’re capable of, and she finds comfort in the fact that you’re with her—someone who’s just as tough as you are.

Silco

Silco is drawn to power, and he immediately recognizes the authority you carry. There’s something magnetic about you—people step aside when you walk through a room, and Silco is no exception. He knows your power can match his, and he admires that.

But when you show him your softer, loving side, it takes him by surprise. Silco is used to cold, calculated relationships, but you bring something else—a warmth he didn’t expect. “So you have this… other side,” he muses, his gaze intense. “I’d say I’m the only one who gets to see it, but I don’t want to share you with anyone.”

When you’re around him, Silco sees you as more than just a weapon. You’re someone who complements his ambitions and understands his dark side—but also reminds him of the humanity he’s lost.

Vander

Vander would be a little more cautious when he first meets you. He knows strength, and he knows how intimidating you are, but he’s always been a protector, so he’d approach you with care. Still, he can see your sweet nature beneath the surface, especially when you’re with him.

Vander would soften when you show him affection, seeing that you’re not all about intimidation. “You’ve got this fierce side, I see that,” he’d say with a chuckle, pulling you close. “But with me? You’re just my baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Vander would always remind you to keep your temper in check, especially around others, but he loves the balance you bring to the relationship.

Ekko

Ekko respects strength, but he’s the type to see through tough exteriors. He’d be a little intimidated at first, but once he realizes you have a gentle side when you’re with him, he’s putty in your hands.

“You’re like a force of nature, but when it’s just us…” he’d say, his voice teasing. “I’m your soft spot, huh?”

He would love how protective you are over him and always make sure you’re not just scaring people away with your strength. He sees that vulnerability in you and always offers his support. “You don’t have to scare everyone off, y’know,” Ekko would chuckle, “But I can’t lie—I love how you just walk in like you own the place.”

Jayce

Jayce has never been intimidated by anyone, but when he sees you command attention with just your presence, he’s intrigued. He might try to act like he’s unaffected, but there’s a clear glimmer of admiration in his eyes.

“You don’t have to use that aura on me,” Jayce would say with a smirk, feeling the weight of your power. But when you’re affectionate with him, he lets out a relieved sigh. “Good thing I get to see you when you’re not throwing people across the room.”

Jayce loves your strength and the security you bring to the relationship, and he secretly loves how you take charge in situations. He’s all about teamwork, and your balance of power and tenderness is exactly what he needs.

Viktor

Viktor might be a little shy when he first meets you, sensing the overwhelming presence you give off. But as he gets to know you, he becomes fascinated by your strength and how you seem to effortlessly control a room.

When you’re gentle with him, it blows his mind. “You’re the most intimidating person I’ve met…” he’d say, adjusting his glasses nervously, “But with me, you’re kind. I don’t understand how, but… I think I like it.”

Viktor loves how you balance your fierce exterior with a soft side that’s only for him. He admires your intelligence and strength, and it makes him feel safe and cherished.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is not easily intimidated, but when she sees how effortlessly people back away when you enter the room, she’s impressed. However, she’s not afraid to challenge you—she respects your strength, but she doesn’t let it overpower her.

“You’ve got quite the reputation,” Caitlyn would say with a smile. “But when you’re with me, no one else matters, right?”

She’ll show you that she’s not intimidated by your power, but she’ll also soften when she sees the gentle side you reserve for her. “You don’t have to act tough with me. I know what you’re really like,” she’ll say, snuggling into your side.

Mel Medarda

Mel doesn’t get intimidated easily, but there’s something about your commanding presence that fascinates her. She loves the power you exude, but she’ll also quickly recognize your soft side, especially when you’re with her.

“You make the whole room stand still when you walk in,” Mel would say, impressed. “It’s captivating… but I’m the one who gets to see the real you.”

Mel loves how you balance the tough exterior with your caring, affectionate nature. She feels like she’s the only one who gets to witness your gentleness, and she’ll savor every moment.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa respects strength more than anything, and she’s immediately drawn to your power. She recognizes that you could crush anyone who stands in your way, but she’s not intimidated—rather, she’s intrigued.

“You’re a force to be reckoned with,” Ambessa would say, her voice low and admiring. “But I’m the one who gets to keep you, aren’t I?”

She’d always keep you close, making sure you’re hers. Ambessa would love how you soften in her presence, and she’d hold onto you with pride.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie might be a little intimidated at first, but as she gets to know you, she’s in awe of how you can be both powerful and gentle. Your presence commands attention, but when you’re with her, you’re warm and kind.

“You’re so strong,” Maddie would say, her voice filled with admiration. “But you never make me feel small. How do you do it?”

She’d absolutely adore your sweet side, and she’d love being the one to see you at your most vulnerable.

Lest

Lest isn’t someone who gets intimidated by anyone, but when she sees how others react to your mere presence, she’s amused. Still, she knows how to keep you close and keep others in line.

“I’m not worried about your strength,” Lest would say with a smirk. “But you’ve got me wrapped around your finger with that sweetness of yours.”

She’d love how you balance the toughness with tenderness, and she’d always make sure to keep you close and remind you that she’s the only one who gets your sweet side.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Get Lost

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get caught in the corn maze after dark but you don’t think those footsteps belong to someone trying to help you find your way out.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: this is the fifth and final of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Jaden points across the dash, receiving a swat from Alexandria as she tries not to veer. 

“Hey,” she cries out, “don’t do that. I can’t see over your ugly sweater.” 

“Oh, whatever, Lex,” he snips, “I was just trying to show you that.” He points again, this time without blocking her view, “you see that sign ahead?” 

“Sure, I see it,” she leans over the wheel as your nail taps across your phone screen. You huff. You wish they’d stop arguing for one moment. “A maze?” 

“A corn maze. Doesn’t that sound fun? I haven’t been to one since I was a kid.” 

“Of course, you haven’t,” you scoff and let your phone hang carelessly in your hand. “We’ve all seen that movie with the evil kids. Who wants to go running through a field?” 

“I do,” Ashton says, “better than driving around looking for those shoes that don’t exist.” 

His girlfriend, Samira, laughs and leans into him. You blow a raspberry. 

“It’s all the way out in the middle of nowhere,” you sneer. 

“Well, Mrs. Xanny, you never want to do anything so your vote counts for nothing,” Jaden retorts. 

“Excuse me,” you roll your eyes. 

“I’m up for it,” Ashton raises his hand. 

“Me too,” Samira mimics him. 

“Me three,” Jaden declares. “So looks like you two are outvoted.” 

“Whatever,” you mutter and Alexandria sighs. 

“Fine, but nobody better leave me behind. I’m not getting lost because of you idiots,” she growls. 

“Don’t worry, Lexi, I’ll hold your wittle hand,” Jaden teases. 

The others laugh and you go back to your phone. You’re more interested in the new heels at your favourite boutique than some dirty and scarecrows. Alexandria steers on as she continues to snap at Jaden to stop distracting her. Her driving is a lot scarier than anything that might be hiding in the maze. 

You swipe and tap and tune out the world around you, especially the two lovebirds exchanging not so subtle touches beside you. Jaden had to insist on sitting in the front. Finally, the car rolls, the axle jostled by the lumpy ground, and you look up at the gray sky. You hate daylight savings. 

When the wheels are still, you’re reluctant to get out. You could offer to watch the car until they get back. It’s cold and you don’t feel like slogging through soil and seed. 

“Hey, Lex,” you begin. 

“If I’m going, you’re going,” she snips as she undoes her seatbelt. 

You curl your lip and make a face at her back. The others are already out of the car. Jaden’s bouncing eagerly, Ashton’s staring at the gate to the maze, and Samira is draped off her boyfriend’s arm. They probably just want to find a dark corner so they can makeout. They are so high school. 

“Fifteen bucks?” You read the sign above the table, “blech. I could put that towards my hair appointment tomorrow.” 

“Oh, boo hoo,” Jaden snorts. 

“Don’t act like you don’t have the money,” Samira jeers. 

You call these people ‘friends’ lightly. You all just kind of stick together out of familiarity. Most people you’ve met aren’t much better so why risk downgrading. 

You take a step and feel your tall heel sink into the mud. Ew. 

“Oh, my boots,” you whine as you lift your sole, the muck dripping off of it. 

“Wash em after,” Ashton says. 

“These are Louis’,” you snarl. 

“And you have at least three identical pairs at home. Lighten up,” he barks back. 

You cross your arms and seal your lips with a wry smile. You’re not arguing with him. He’s been a jerk ever since you turned him down at his sister’s twenty-fifth. You suppose it was his birthday two, them being twins and all. Not that he looks very much like Alexandria. 

You trod after the four others, trying not to step too deep in the mud. You growl at the ground. You know what’s not dirty, a salon or a store. 

“Nice boots,” a deep voice rolls over you as you join the queue for tickets.  

You lift your head and look over at the man nearby. He steps up next to you as you eye his bristly upper lip. It’s a look, not a good one. 

“Brave girl going in alone,” he comments. 

You frown, “I’m not,” you step closer to your friends and they chatter. 

“Oh, coulda fooled me,” he remarks as he reaches into his jacket. “So, those Louis boots... those are last year’s...” 

“How would you know?” 

He shows the lining of his jacket. Also Louis. He pokes his fingers into the interior pocket and slides out a pack of gum. He pushes out a piece and pops it in his mouth. He tucks the pack back into his pocket and drops his hands to his hip. 

“So,” he chews the gum loudly. “You’re not really dressed for a maze.” 

“And you are?” You scowl, looking him up and down. He copies your posture and does the same to you. 

“I’m not here for the maze, baby girl,” he winks and snaps the gum. “But you have fun.” 

He turns and struts away before you can respond. Your lips open in confusion. What could he mean? You blink and shut your mouth, stepping up between Alexandria and Ashton. 

“So, how long are we going to have to stand around?” You ask. 

🌾

You hold your phone up in irritation. Your bars are totally gone. Great. This maze thing is so fucking boring. What are you supposed to do now? 

You sniff and shake your head. You sigh and put your phone in your jacket pocket, keeping your hand in the fleecy insert as the chill creeps up your leggings. You guess you’ll have to help or whatever. 

“Alex--” you look ahead then back, and side to side. Your heart leaps and you rush forward as fast as you can on your six-inch heels, “Alexandria? Ashton?” You look around the next corner and the opposite way along the other pathway. “Samira?” 

You spin again, your ankles tangling together. You blink as the tall corner adds to the dimness setting over the horizon. You gulp as your heart pounds in your throat. You slip your phone free once more and turn on the flashlight. 

You aim it ahead and listen for voices. You don’t hear much past the dense wall of stalks. As you brush a bit too close, you cry out and back away from the hanging husk. You shake of the crawling sensation and turn back and forth again. You lost your sense of direction. 

You look up at the sky. The clouds are thick, you can see neither moon or sun. You stop and pull your phone closer. You bring up your maps but it’s just a blank screen. Still no signal. 

Fuck it. Just walk, you’ll find the way. 

You shine the light ahead of you, your heels sinking into the mulch of footsteps, husks, and stones. You walk unevenly over the soft ground. You mumble obscenities as your arches start to bemoan the height. If you had known about this special excursion, you could’ve worn your Uggs. 

There’s a scuff, a strange echo of your own steps. You stop but it keeps going. You squint and twirl around, the light glinting off the corner and slicing through shadows. “Hello?” You call out. 

The footsteps continue but no one answers. You can’t tell if they’re ahead of you or behind you. Or to the left. Or right. You sway back and forth. This is getting weird. 

You take a breath and set your feet. You nearly trip as your heels dig in once more. You grunt and pull them out. You’re about to just scream for help. 

A sudden rumble makes you squeal. What the hell was that? You twist around and it happens again. It’s laughter? Someone’s laughing at you? 

You look at the tall stalks of corn, searching between the tight rows. 

“Alright, not very funny. Ashton....” you holler. 

The laughter gets louder. 

“Jaden,” you hiss. 

The laughter stops. 

“I really am not amused, okay? I want out. I never even wanted to do this stupid thing--” 

“Those boys are long gone, sweet peach,” the voice drawls around you like the wind, “I’m all man.” 

“Where are you? Who are you?” You ask. 

“I’m right behind you, baby, and I’m your knight in shining armour,” he purrs. 

You gasp and turn around. You beam the flashlight of the phone in the man’s face. You only get a glimpse of that short brown mustache before the cell is knocked from your grasp. 

“What are you tryna do? Blind me?” He snarls as your phone disappears between the corn. 

“What-- What do you want?” You step back, dragging your heels from the mud. 

“I wanna help, baby,” he slithers. “You seem lost.” 

You blink at him. He’s a dark silhouette against the greyness trapped in the maze. You bristle and look over at the corn. 

“Sure, I’ll just grab my phone, thanks--” 

“Ah, ah,” he comes up to meet you, blocking you with his arm. “I don’t work for free, honey pot.” 

“Fine, then go away,” you spit. 

“Woah, ho, you haven’t even asked what I want in return, sweetie,” he brings his other hand up to touch your cheek and you flinch away. 

“You’re not getting it, dude,” you back up. 

“Just a little suck. Hell, you give the little guy a nice kiss and I won’t even make you finish the job--” 

“Ew, no way,” you smack his hand down as he reaches for you again. “Fuck off--” 

He’s quick. He grabs you by your jaw and snarls as he looms over you, “for such a pretty mouth it sure is fucking filthy. Won’t matter what I put in it--” 

“Hey,” you grunt and writhe in his grasp, twisting your hands around his thick forearms, “get off--” 

“I’m trying, trust me--” 

You ram your knee up and feel the crunch in his pants. He wheezes and lets you go. You shove him and stagger backwards. You look at the corn one last time. Your phone is somewhere in there. 

As he cradles his crotch and snarls, the urgency of the moment slaps you across the face. Fuck your phone. You need to get away from this creep. 

Thank god you got insurance on your cell plan. You turn and lift your knees. You land on your toes, keeping your heels off the ground as much as you can. You’re not going very fast and you know you look ridiculous but you don’t care. You want to go home. 

You pump your arms as you breath hitches. You hear groans and another set of steps, just like before. You get to a corner and turn before you crash through the corn. You heave as you race away, ankles threatening to bend. At what point do you just ditch the Louis’ and mourn them with your phone. 

You cough and slow down. Shit. You’re in terrible shape. You look over your shoulder, your breath foggy in the plummeting temperature. You don’t see him. You don’t hear him either. Good. 

You turn-- 

“Boo!” The man startles you so you shriek. 

You stagger back as he cackles and you hurl yourself forward. Your feet catch as your heels stab the ground and you stumble with your arms flailing away from him. Your shallow breaths thunder around you as you charge through the maze only to find yourself trapped at a dead end. 

You stop and waver, lungs filled with fire. Fuck, fuck, fuck! You stomp with each internal proclamation. 

“Look, sugar tits, you can keep running and I’ll keep chasing,” the man struts up behind you as you spin to face him. “But it all ends the same way.” He sets his feet wide and cracks his knuckles. “And since you bruised my left nut,” he snarls, “you can kiss that better first.” 

“Uh, like why are you doing this?” You ask. 

He chortles, “like because I can.”  

You snarl and cross your arms, “you’re a loser. And you’re old. Like, can’t you find someone your own age to creep on?” 

He laughs louder but there’s not much humour in it. He stalks closer and your defiance glimmers, just a little. You don’t know where he gets off. Does he really think he can just tell you what to do? 

“So, I knew you were gonna be a handful,” he grabs you by the neck and you wince. You slap his wrist and he tuts, bringing his other hand up to grope your chest, “in more ways than one.” 

“Hey, fuck--” you grit out. “Hey!” 

“Look, sweetie, it’s a simple transaction. I pull my pants down, you keep those teeth to yourself, and be real nice to me,” he glares down at you. “The way you crushed my balls, you’re lucky I don’t make you lick my boots.” 

“What is wrong with you?” You growl. 

“Oh, a lot,” he smirks. “Now, those boots must kill your feet so...” he jerks you roughly, “on your knees.” 

Your eyes tinge just a little but you won’t cry. Not because of him. You gnash your teeth and grimace at him as he peels his hand away. 

“You got one thing going for you, baby, and that’s that pretty face. I can change that, trust me,” he warns. You swallow avert your eyes. He chuckles again, “god, I love that pout.” 

You bat your lash and fight to keep the litany of insults inside. You caterpillar faced fuck. You viagra powered moron. You overgrown frat boy. 

“The next time you open your mouth, it better be to gobble my cock,” he sneers, “so don’t even say it.” 

You look at him again. You set your eyes and your jaw. You step closer and he lifts his chin just slightly as he stares you down. 

You grab his belt and he twitches. You unbuckle it and whip the ends aside. You pop the button open and yank the zipper apart. He watches you, his eyebrow tweaking. You push his fly wide and roll your eyes as you feel his naked pelvis beneath your fingertips. Of course, this weirdo is hanging loose. 

You reach under his pants and angle his hard dick through the teeth of the zipper. You stroke him up and down with a dry, tight grip. He hisses and shifts his weight. 

“Careful, like sandpaper,” he rasps. 

You tut and look down. You huff. You move one foot back and bend your leg. You put one knee to the ground then the other. You make a face as you come level to his tip. Ugh. 

“Don’t look so fucking enticed,” he barks. You roll your eyes again and he swats your head. “Keep doing that and your eyes are getting stuck.” 

Old. Man. 

You pump him again and slowly, inch by inch, lean in. 

“Ah, I said kiss the left one first, then you can get to the main dish,” he puts his hand on his hip. 

You swallow and push down a tide of disgust. You lift him and lean your head to the side. You crane around and pucker, pressing your lips to his left ball. He twitches and groan. 

“Damn, those lips are soft. Do the other one.” 

With bile brewing in your stomach, you obey. You pull back and put his tip to your lips. You narrow your gaze at his pelvis and spread your mouth around him. You wet his swollen head then work your way down his length. He might be a desperate loser but he’s not small. 

You bob up and down as you take more and more of him. He curls his fingers into his hip as his other hand goes to the back of your head. He urges you on and you bat his hand with yours. You push back against him and flick your eyes up. 

“You are a stubborn one,” he rebukes. 

Your lips meet your hand and you pump him emphatically with both, popping off his tip so he whimpers. He clutches a wad of your hair as his eyes gleam desperately. 

“I kissed it better,” you wipe your mouth, “you show me the way out, and you might just finish, old man.” 

He stares down at you. Agitation and amusement battle across his expression. He takes a breath and lets it out. 

“One last kiss and I’ll get you out,” he says, “And then you’ll get me off.” 

The cold air swirls around you and the darkness floods through the corn. You squeeze him slightly and put a sloppy kiss on his tip with a loud muah. You let go and tickle along his length. You grab onto his arm and pull yourself to your feet. 

“I want out. Now.” 

“Alright, princess,” he snickers. “Don’t you worry, I got a throne you can sit on when we’re home free.” 

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Hi! I’ve been loving your starfire x reader x nightwing series so far

Can I request them with a reader who loves books, you can choose whatever genre interest you but maybe they catch reader reading a romance book

Even if you don’t decide to write this I just wanna say how much I love your writing!!

Yandere dick x reader x yandere kory

The library was your sanctuary—a quiet refuge where you could disappear into the pages of a book, leaving the world behind. Today, you had picked up a romance novel, and it had you captivated. The story unfolded in a flurry of passion and forbidden attraction, drawing you in deeper with each turn of the page. The characters, locked in a whirlwind of desire, stirred something within you, and as you read, your cheeks flushed with heat. It was just a book—but the emotions felt so real.

The silence of the room was broken by a voice, familiar and teasing.

“Really?” Dick’s voice drifted into the stillness. You startled, glancing up to find him standing in the doorway, an almost knowing grin on his lips. “I didn’t take you for someone into this kind of thing.”

You slammed the book shut, heart racing, face burning. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, trying to shrug it off, but your blush betrayed you.

Dick moved toward you, stepping into the room with that predatory grace only he possessed. His smirk deepened as he looked at the book you’d hastily closed. “No need to hide it,” he said, his voice low, casual, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “What part did you get to? The good part?”

Before you could respond, the door creaked again, and Kory’s voice entered with a lilting warmth. “What’s going on?” Her eyes flicked from you to Dick, sensing something was off. She stepped inside, her gaze fixing on the book still in your hands. “I see we’re reading something interesting,” she said, her voice full of playful curiosity.

Dick grinned, eyes never leaving you. “Caught our little bookworm in the act,” he said, almost smug in his amusement. “Didn’t know you were into these kinds of.... passions.”

Kory moved closer, her smile warm but her eyes narrowed with possessiveness. “What’s the book about, darling?” she asked, her voice inviting but laced with something deeper, a quiet intensity.

You hesitated, glancing between them. They weren’t asking about the book, not really. You tried to keep your tone neutral. “It’s just a romance novel,” you mumbled, but the weight of their gazes made it impossible to pretend.

“Mm,” Dick hummed, stepping a little closer, his voice taking on a darker edge. “It’s not just a romance, though, is it?” His eyes lingered on you, hungry with curiosity. “You’re reading about something else, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone soft yet sharp, as if he already knew the answer.

Kory’s hand moved to your shoulder, her touch light but commanding. “What do you imagine when you read those words?” she asked, her voice a soft caress, but underneath, there was something darker. “What do you desire when you close your eyes and think of it?”

Your breath hitched. You wanted to lie, to push them away, but the way they looked at you made it impossible to ignore what they already knew. You were lost in their gaze, trapped by their certainty.

Dick smirked, leaning closer, his presence suddenly filling the space around you. “Let me guess,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, but this time, the intent was different—darker. “You’re imagining the hero taking charge, aren’t you? Making everything about them? Hmm? ”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn’t find the words to deny it. But you didn’t need to speak. Dick already knew. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek, his smile like a secret only the three of you shared. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re picturing us, aren’t you? Us, instead of those characters. What would it feel like if it were us?”

Kory’s touch was gentle, but her fingers were insistent as they brushed over your chin, guiding your face to hers. “You don’t have to be ashamed,” she murmured. Her voice was softer now, but it held a possessive edge. “We can show you something real, something better than any story could give you.”

Your pulse quickened. You wanted to say something, to tell them that you weren’t like those characters in the book. But their gaze was unwavering, their words wrapping around you like vines. They were pulling you in, and you didn’t know how to escape.

“You’ve been reading these scenes because you want them,” Dick said, his voice now deliberate, dripping with certainty. “You want to feel that passion. That heat. It’s not just the book that excites you. It’s what you wish could happen.” His lips quirked as he closed the distance, his presence heavy with intent.

Kory’s hand slipped down your arm, her touch deliberate and possessive. “We can give you everything you’ve been reading about,” she said, her voice low but commanding. “We can make it real.”

You couldn’t move. The weight of their words, the way they held you in their gaze, made it impossible to escape. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

Dick’s hand brushed over your wrist, sending a shiver down your spine. “You don’t need the book anymore,” he said, his voice a soft command. “You’ve already imagined it—us—together. Now let us show you how real it can be.”

Kory’s touch was gentle, but her grip was firm as she cupped your chin, her fingers brushing your skin in a possessive caress. “We’re what you need, beloved,” she said, her tone soft but unmistakable. “And we will give it to you. We are your reality now.”

A quiet, impossible tension swelled in the room. You could feel it, in every glance, every touch, the undeniable certainty in the air between the three of you. You were theirs, whether you liked it or not.

“Let us be your passion,” Dick murmured, his voice low, yet warm with promise. “We’ll show you how to burn with desire. With us, you’ll know that what you read in books doesn’t compare to what we’ll make real.”

Kory’s fingers tightened around your chin, pulling you toward her, and for a moment, you saw a quiet, dangerous promise in her gaze. “We will be your passion,” she repeated softly, her voice almost a lullaby, but with the promise of something far more intense. “And you will never look at a book the same way again.”

The words left you breathless, as they leaned in closer, and the room seemed to fade into the background. The world outside was gone—the only thing left was the undeniable heat of their touch, the certainty of their desire, and the knowledge that you were about to be theirs in every way.

(A/n: they don't love them like I love them 🙌)