#au revoir fingers

[yuukimiyas]

thinkin ab takin a lil hiatus for a few days/a wk ૮ ིྀ◞ ◟ྀིა

[minhosimthings]

Lucifer|| Prolouge

Synopsis: After you found your husband cheating on you, you found a different kind of comfort in his devilishly handsome colleagues.

Pairings: detective 02z × fem!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, minors please do not interact, catcalling, mention of alcohol, reader is cheated on by Heeseung, cheating (which I do not condone in real life)

A/N: Prologue for my 02z short series everyone! I abandoned everything else after Enha dropped Memorabilia just to write this BECAUSE I CAN. I will try to put out the oneshots as early as possible and I hope all of you will enjoy it! Au revoir!

Taglist: Open

Series Masterlist

Crystalline tears filled your eyes as you walked under the dark azure sky. Your feet ached, your heart thumped hard against its prison and your mind spun and yet you kept walking. Walking somewhere, you didn't even bother to understand.

Adjusting your skirt, and moving your scarf down to reveal your bloodied lips from having bitten them too much, you tried to recall what had happened today that made you so miserable. Was it the broken coffee machine, or was it the recent murders in the newspaper? Or was it a person? Perhaps it was the latter.

Heeseung.

You loved Lee Heeseung. With all of your soul and all of your heart you loved him all the way through the bright Mays and the chilly Decembers. You loved him in a way only the setting sun could love the ocean, the way its rays danced with the water so gracefully.

And yet you caught him in your own bedroom, strong sinews of muscles handling another girl's lusty bones, as she merged her body with someone you thought belonged to you.

His apologies went deaf to your ears, you spent an hour or so packing up all your things and driving out the house without a second thought. You didn't even realise how much time you spent screaming your head off at him, trying hard to stop your tears from escaping their barrier as you shoved each and every gift he ever gave you into his arms and asked him to burn them to the ground. And yet you didn't know how to cope without them either.

Your mother never taught you how to handle grief without alcohol and your father's blood always seeped through your mouth in words of fire and fury everytime something went wrong. It was no wonder you had found comfort in Heeseung, a man who could handle all of your pain and all of your anger.

You had trusted him with your life, marrying him happily to escape your childhood home and entrusting in him your most beloved secrets, your love and dedication and your virginity as well. You thought that had been enough, staying home whilst Heeseung worked his ass off at the police station to provide you with everything you could ask for and more.

And when he came home, you were his toy, a plaything for him to release his stress on and yet you didn't budge. Why should you? When you were recieving all the pleasure you could ever want and giving all the pleasure back to your husband. Nevertheless, you stared at your empty ring finger now, hands shivering in the cold as you scolded yourself on not wearing mittens. Heeseung used to scold you too.

Lee Heeseung. What would you have done to absolutely irradicate Lee Heeseung?

You had parked your car at the nearby park where you knew it'd be safe, and had gone for a walk. Thoughts rushed to your mind. You had known about Heeseung's affair for some time now, but you wanted to catch him in the act, to prove to the world, to yourself, that your melancholic delusion could be justified. Here you were now, dragging your feet across the cemented pavement, knowing there's only one other place you could go to. The darkness was a bad place for a woman to be, at 10 pm but you didn't give a single fuck about anything as your prosaic body tried to get itself up. You swore you could have heard voices behind you.

"Hey, hey you!" You heard a voice shout behind you, "What's a pretty lady doin' in a place like this?"

You gulped in fear as your feet sped up. Stupid stupid girl, you thought to yourself, should have stayed in the goddamned car!

"Hey you ignorin' me?" The voice shouted again, and you could hear the gruff footsteps which followed you, getting closer by the moment, "Stop fucking runnin' away from me!"

Your heart pumped blood faster as you picked up your skirt and ran, at the fastest speed you could. This wouldn't have happened if Heeseung was here!, you thought, and though a part of your brain tried to scold you about still thinking about him, at the moment all you were focused on was getting somewhere safe.

The man's drunken voice could still be hear by your ears, and his harsh footsteps told you he was running behind you, chasing you as if you were a wild mongrel to be caught and leashed.

Only one place. Only one place you could go now.

Turning swift on your feet, you ran down the wide lane filled with shops on one side and the empty road on the other, being careful not to crash into the glowing streetlights, as your destination came into your visage.

The police station. Where you knew, your last hope would be standing.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

"Got the Samson case solved yet?" Sunghoon yawned and stretched his limbs above his head, like a prosaic cat, "Man I could do with a drink right now."

"It's 10 pm." Jake checked his pocketwatch, running his hand through his hair as he always did, "What bar is going to be open at this time?"

"Hey, should we steal Jay's stash?" Sunghoon glanced, with mischievous eyes at Jake, who mirrored an equally mischief filled smile back.

"Don't even think about touching my bourbon." A dark haired man, with eyes as black as kohl, walked in, equally black gloves decorating his hands, "Unless you want to be stuck on traffic duty all week."

"Who pissed in your cereal today?" Sunghoon snickered, leaning back in his chair, a crack of his bone could be heard as he lazily stretched, "Let me guess, Heeseung?"

"Is it about his wife again?" Jake groaned, hair tangled in his hand again, "Jay, just leave it man, they'll sort it out."

"Sort it out?" Jay looked at the long haired man with a quizzical look, "What kind of a man cheats on a beautiful woman and brags about it?"

"Most of them." Sunghoon broke out into his drawer, hands reaching for a eloquent wooden pipe, which he lit and transferred to his mouth, sighing out the smoke as he relaxed into his chair, "You're too righteous to understand that, Jongsoeng."

Jay wrinkled his nose, as Sunghoon blew a puff of cigarette smoke into the air. Settling into his own chair, Jay's eyes flickered towards Heeseung's desk, where files lay messily scattered. A solitary photo frame brightened up the lonely atmosphere of the desk. Lee Y/N, Jay thought, his wife, not yours.

"Jay, come on, stop sulking over your little crush," Jake scoffed, his hands busy with a sleek, brownish-yellow bottle in his hand, "Just have a drink and get your mind off it."

"First of all, how did you get into my bourbon cabinet." Jay snatched the glass from Jake's hand, and toyed with it protectively, "Second of all, I can't just get my mind of it. I mean, come on," He extended his glass out to Jake who poured the elysian liquid into Jay's glass, "Who the fuck would have the gall to cheat on such a pretty woman who loves him to bits?"

"Look, you like her right? And don't say no, we all know it Jongsoeng." Sunghoon leaned forward in his chair, "So when she finds out about everything, just offer to take her home and, you know, let her sob into your arms and then take her into your bedroom and-"

"Since when did you start reading romance?" Jake chuckled, pressing a glass of bourbon to his lips.

"Since lover boy here started crushing on..what's her name? Y/N wasn't it?" Sunghoon laughed, taking another piquant drag of his pipe, "I get it, she is really pretty."

'Really pretty' was one way to describe you, Jay thought, smiling into his glass of bourbon. Every inch of you called out to him, beckoned him closer and closer to your poisonous radius. It wasn't that he didn't try to fight it, lusting after another's wife, but it was that he found that hidden sadness in your eyes heartbreaking everytime he looked into them.

"Want to head home, fellas?" Jake briskly sat up straight in his chair, "Or are either of you going to stop at a brothel?"

"Don't have time for that." Sunghoon chuckled darkly, putting out his pipe, "Plus I've got a-"

Bang!

The door of the quite airy police station burst open with a loud bang, and it seemed as if a hurricane in the guise of a panicked woman had swept in, alarming the three detectives. The sudden action caused them to act on their reflexes, pulling out their revolvers faster than their eyes could comprehend the sight in fron them. Jake's eyes seemed to work the quickest.

"Ma'am? Are you alright?" Jake called out, signalling the other two to lower their weapons. He stepped forward and turned a switch on, which caused the entire room to light up in bright light, contrasting to the soft yellow light that earlier shone from the desk lamps.

Jay's senses had seemed to ding up after the initial shock of the entire thing, as he walked forward with careful steps towards you, as Jake and Sunghoon whispered to each other, making out why you were here. Your eyes took a moment to register the man in front of you.

Jay Park, you thought, a man who was perfection incarnated.

"Y/N," Jay spoke softly, careful not to frighten you, "What are you doing here? Are you alright?" He looked you up and down to check for any disfigurements.

"I-" you spoke, your throat tightening by the moment, "Heeseung—he" you couldn't speak any more as his name uttered out your mouth. Bursting into tears, you buried your face in your hands as you felt your cheeks burn up with embarrassment. You really weren't crying in front of your (ex) husband's colleagues, men who you barely knew, apart from the usual condolences.

You felt warm, strong muscles pull you into their hold. It felt like a cozy cocoon, scented with the fragrance of pine and paper.

"Calm down, doll," Jay whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck, "take a breath for me."

Jay coached you through breathing in and out, which restored some of your consciousness. You had nearly been on the verge of fainting, with how much you had ran.

"Can I—May I sit down for a moment?" You asked, weary of the other two men's eyes watching you, "Please."

"Of course." Jay said, supporting your figure with his sinews as he led you over to his cubicle. You could see the other two hastily clearing out messy piles of papers. The shorter one, you assumed was Jake, from his drooped posture and lion-like hair. The taller one then, had to be Sunghoon, with porcelain skin and an ice cold gaze.

"Did-did you walk all the way from your house?" Jake questioned, offering you a seat, which you gratefully collapsed into.

"No, just the park nearby." You shot him a small smile through your croaky voice, which he returned, "My car's still parked there though. I drove from" you stopped in your words uncertain to say his name, "-from Heeseung's house."

You felt the tension in the room as you said those words. Heeseung's house, you thought, it had been home once. You felt Jay shift his position in the chair next to you, and Sunghoon transfer his weight to one foot, whilst leaning on the desk.

"If you want us to go beat him up, we'll gladly do it." Sunghoon offered, making you chuckle and shake your head.

"No it's fine, I mean she wasn't that pretty anyway, he's bound to lose interest in her some day or the other." You smiled, to no one but yourself. Humour had never been your strong suit.

"Aww man I really wanted to beat him up." Sunghoon feigned defeat, "Asshole deserves it for how much paperwork he gave me."

"That's the only reason you want to beat him up?" You raised a brow at the light skinned man, who raised one back.

"And for betraying a pretty lady of course." He winked at you, making you internally roll your eyes.

"Would-would you like some bourbon?" Jake awkwardly offered you a glass. You could see the embarrassment in his eyes the moment he asked the question, "Or water if you want-"

"I'll take the bourbon." You grabbed the glass from Jake, who, with his shocked eyes poured you a glass, which you downed immediately without flinching in front of the three startled detectives, "Can I have another?"

"Can we have some too?" Sunghoon smirked at you, grabbing his own glass and beckoning Jake to pour him a shot. Jay, admitting defeat, had grabbed a glass too, filled with the bubbly alcohol.

"Well," Sunghoon raised his glass in a toast, "to Heeseung hopefully getting bored of the other woman."

"Peculiar toast, Detective Park." You laughed, "I like it."

The moments that followed still felt like a fever dream to you. You had sat in a building, alone with three handsome men, talking down right shit about your husband, whilst drinking more bourbon than you ever had and although you had already defeated Jake in drinking (almost) half a pint, you still wanted more. This definetly was not on your itinerary for the evening, but did you care at this point? Absolutely not.

"Ugh fuck." You swore under your breath. You probably shouldn't have drank that much, but in all honestly, it would have helped to relieve some of the painful memories of the night.

"Woah steady there." Jay looked at you cautiously as you stirred in your chair. Jake was on the verge of passing out, having even taking his glasses off, while Sunghoon and Jay, who hadn't drank as much, looked as calm as the winds.

"You know what?" You started, not knowing the words coming out of your drunken mouth anymore, "Fuck Lee Heeseung, fuck that man." A sudden maniacal giggle from your mouth seemed to have amused Sunghoon.

"Fuck in what terms, Mrs Lee?" He asked, trying to hide his cunning smirk, whilst ignoring Jay's warning glares.

"Mrs Lee?" You questioned, feeling your senses come back, though you were still tipsy, "Who's Mrs Lee? Not me, no sir-ee." You laughed, "If I had the chance to chop off that asshole's dick right now, I would."

"But you wouldn't allow us to beat him up? Strange." Sunghoon whistled out in his usual cocky tone.

"It's getting late." Jay checked the grand clock in the corner of the room, his eyes wavered over the dried tears on your face, it was alarming to him how much a mere glass of bourbon had managed to get you giggling like a cuckoo, "Y/N I can drop you-"

"I'd rather fuck all of you in one night rather than see that idiot's face again." You chuckled again, this time, saying the sentence with full seriousness. Did you really mean it?, perhaps not, as you would have thought later on. But were you up for having sex with three extremely attractive men who happened to be the best friends of your ex-husband? That, was a definite yes.

"Oh really?" Sunghoon placed his forearms on the desk in front of him, leaning in closer to your face. Jay's hand clutched harder against the edge of the desk. "And what if I say yes to that proposal?"

"What are you implying, Detective Park?" You looked into his dark, devilish eyes, "That you'd have sex with someone pathetic enough to get cheated on?"

"Don't say that, you're not pathetic." Jay's eyes softened as he looked at you, but you merely scoffed, turning your face instead to look at Sunghoon, who was evidently smirking. You caught Jake's widened eyes from the corner of your eye, listening intently.

"How about this-" Sunghoon started, folding his arms, "You get a night of good sex, I get a night of good sex, you and I both get to rub that in Heeseung's face, and then we have breakfast in France."

"Are you married Detective Park?" You quizzed him with an amused face, his offer seemed at the very least, interesting to you.

"Not yet, no. I'm still young aren't I?", Sunghoon's mouth stretched like a cat's into a lazy smile, "Why do you ask? Are you....perhaps intrigued by my offer?"

There was something ironic about that sentence "I'm still young" that struck a chord within you, you were the same age as him and yet you were sitting there talking about your husband.

"Intrigued is one way to put it." You smiled back, hoping you looked anything like a vixen, matching the bastardous fox like energy of Sunghoon's, "But don't you think it's greedy of you, Detective Park? To want me all to yourself?"

"And what do you mean by that, Miss Y/N?" Jake smiled in his boyish manner, "Is Sunghoon here not enough for you?"

"I'm just saying." You held up your hands in mock defence, "wouldn't you both like to get a taste too?"

You glanced at Jay in the corner, who you had expected to be shaking his head in disapproval. But to your utter surprise, he had one of his gloves hands stroking his chin as if in deep thought. His eyes were dark even in the fluorescent light of the room, deep pools of cataclysmic waters floating around in his pupils. He looked vaguely interested.

"So just to recap," Jake started, clearing his throat, such that his Adam's apple was clearly visible, "You want us to bed you, so as to make your ex husband, our colleague and friend, someone's whose wife we definetly should not be sleeping with, jealous?"

"That's the blueprint." You said in a sweet honeyed voice, "How exactly you make him know that I'm not his anymore, you figure that out. If I even so as look at that man's face again, I will jump off a cliff."

"But the question is-" you put on a proud smile, eyes darting from one man to the next, "Who's going first?"

"Shouldn't you decide that sweetheart?" Jay's deep voice came like a rumble through the ground during an earthquake, slightly startling you. He hadn't said anything in the past few minutes, his sudden break of silence alarmed you.

"Alright then." You chuckled, not daring to meet Jay's eyes, you knew you'd melt as soon as you saw them, "How about the person who suggested this?" You turned your face towards a smirking Sunghoon, with his head held high like a peacock's, "Detective Park?"

"Shall I go with the lady's word boys?" Sunghoon asked Jake, who nodded his head, taking his glasses off the desk and outting them on again. The effect it had in him was quite handsome, according to you.

"Should we make a pact then?" Jake asked cheekily, glancing around for a piece of paper, finally picking one up from underneath the mountain of files lying on the wisened wood. Putting it down on the paper, he scribbled something down quickly, showing it off proudly to the others. You let out a laugh when you saw what he wrote.

"'The make Heeseung jealous organisation'?" You laughed, "I can't tell if you're serious or not."

"I'm dead serious." Jake looked at you with glossy eyes, he always was a funny one, you recalled, "Come on everyone, I need signatures."

He's serious about this, you thought, amused at Jake's comedic demeanor. You swiftly pressed the black ink to the paper, leaving off a flashy signature to decorate it. Jay signed off last, with an impeccable font.

Words couldn't have described that very evening. No sentence that could come out of your mouth could have ever even begun to explain to a complete stranger about how you had ended up in Sunghoon's car, driving to his house in silence. Shrugging off the moral doubts in the corner of your brain, you stared out the window into a dewy night.

Relax, you thought to yourself, there wasn't anything wrong with what you were doing.

Was there?

Taglist: Open! Send an ask or comment to be added.

[gender-euphowrya]

okay so my cousin's daughter is definitely on the spectrum and idk how to break it to them

[starrystevie]

18+ | cw: public handjobs, coming in pants | crossposted on twitter

“are you okay?”

realistically, eddie knows the answer to steve’s question is no. he’s not okay. he’s sitting in a club booth hard as nails with a flush no doubt covering his whole body. he should say no, far from okay, but instead he says-

“yeah, of course im fine.”

steve brings the back of his hand to wipe at his brow, crinkling his eyebrows together in confusion as he flashes an all too well knowing smirk eddie’s way. 

“you sure?” he asks smartly, leaning over the table to grab his rum and coke. standing back up, he tilts his head. “you look a little… bothered.”

eddie narrows his eyes and looks back out to the dance floor to see the girl steve was just dancing with crossing her arms over her chest. she’s pretty, clearly thinking she was making headway with steve, probably making plans in her head about marriage and babies with freckled cheeks.

eddie sighs and slumps over the table, balances his head in his palm as he plants his elbow on the sticky table top. 

how is eddie supposed to tell him that no, he’s no where close to alright? his cock is leaking into his nice jeans and it’s all from the way steve looks as he grinds into a pretty girl. as he tilts his head back to let the neon lights bounce off his pretty sun kissed skin. as he threads a hand into his own sweaty hair to push it back off his forehead. as he threads a hand into her curly hair to keep her where he wants her. 

he has to stop thinking about it.

if he doesn’t, he’s going to cream his pants and that would make for an even worse evening. 

“im good, man. it’s just a little hot.”

steve nods absently as he sips at his drink, as he looks eddie dead in the eye. eddie sighs and steve smirks again. he’s well and truly fucked.

suddenly, steves sliding into the booth, arm coming up to rest behind eddie’s head. he sputters, floundering as steve gets closer, close enough that he can smell his sharp cologne mixed with sweat, a smell that drives him wild. 

“oh.” steve says simply.

eddie flicks his eyes up to meet steve’s to ask what he’s talking about only to find that he’s staring at his hard on. the humiliation that rushes through eddie must cloud his vision when he thinks he sees steve’s smirk get wider, all teeth like a wolf on the hunt.

“fuck.”

he’s been caught. eddie whispers the curse into the air of the crowded nightclub but steve still hears it. his fingers drop down to just barely graze eddie’s shoulder, causing him to shudder. 

steve huffs out a laugh. “looks like i was right, you are bothered.”

eddie groans and drops his head with his eyes closed. “yeah, yeah, laugh all you want.” if he was flushed earlier, it grows tenfold now. he can feel the heat emanating off of him, warm enough that he feels sick with it.

he wants a hole to open up and swallow him. he wants to run out the door and never look back, saying au revoir to the fairytale idea of ever being with steve. he wants to crawl into his bed and jerk himself off under his covers and think about how hot the humiliation is that runs through him when steve looks at him and-

“you want some help with that?”

eddie freezes. steve’s breath is hot against his ear as he leans down to yell over the music, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin, the fingers that were teasing along the very tip of eddie’s shoulder pressing more intently into him.

“…do i want some help with what?” he murmurs, sliding his eyes open to glance at steve as he pulls back.

there’s something electric that zings through him as their eyes meet. the lights flash and steve is covered in red, glinting off his teeth like he could go in for the kill.

eddie thinks, knows, that he’d let him if he really wanted to.

“your little problem. or well-” steve breaks off and makes a clear look down, trailing his eyes slowly over eddie before bringing them back up to eddie’s face. “maybe not so little, huh?”

eddie blanches, a whine escaping him without his permission, something high and thready from the back of his throat. it’s a miracle steve can even hear it, but he does, taking it as the ‘fuck yes’ answer that it’s meant to be and sliding his hand down to rest on eddie’s thigh.

steve’s fingers tighten around eddie’s leg as he nods, the pressure quick and intense and enough to have him whining once more, shoulder slumping forward. he’s going to black out, he just knows it. his head is getting all foggy in anticipation.

when he looks down and sees just how hard steve’s breathing too, his chest expanding in time with the increasing pressure of his fingers, it all clicks in eddie’s head. this isn’t just for him like he thought it was. this isn’t just helping with his maybe not so little problem.

this is for steve, too.

once he realizes it, he sees the same realization wash over steve and the floodgates open. there’s a hand cupping his cock over his jeans as steve pulls the table closer to cover what they’re doing. it’s so much so fast and eddie takes in a gasping breath.

steve’s scooting somehow even closer to eddie until they’re pressed together hip to hip, chest to chest, with lips hot against eddie’s ear once more. eddie briefly wonders what they must look like but it’s dark enough that people aren’t looking over. not really.

if they did look over, they’d see eddie with his mouth agape, shoulders and head hunched forward as his friend must be saying something over the music. they wouldn’t see a hand working deliciously over him. they wouldn’t see the tongue flitting out to play with his earrings. they wouldn’t hear the absolute filth that steve is whispering that brings eddie closer and closer to the brink.

“god, i can’t wait to get my mouth on you,” he says and eddie feels like he can’t breathe, his hips bucking forward to chase after an embarrassingly fast orgasm. “think if you come in your pants, you can get it up again when we leave? want you to fuck me into the mattress until i’m fucking crying, til i'm begging for it. think you can do that?”

it’s too much. eddie turns his head and looks at steve with his lip pulled between his teeth. “what about her?”

he doesn’t have to clarify, they both know who he’s talking about. steve grins again as he quickens his hand. watches as red lights and bliss pass over eddie’s face.

“just wanted to make you jealous,” he breathes out, “she has your hair, y’know? wanted to feel like it was you against me.”

steve’s hand grinds into him once more and then his fingers are finding their way around his length in the denim, stroking him quickly. it's a bit too dry and it kind of hurts but they both correctly guess that eddie loves it a bit too dry, a bit too painful.

eddie chokes, eyes squeezing together as he comes in his pants like a goddamn teenager.

“there you go,” steve murmurs pressing a featherlight hidden kiss to his temple.

eddie jolts his hips through the aftershocks, unable to hide the whimpers that escape him. he doesn’t care about it, can’t care about it, not when steve picks up one of eddie’s hands to place on his own hard cock. he can feel a damp spot under his palm, and when he looks up at steve's face, he looks about as wrecked as eddie feels.

the only thing he can possibly say to steve is easy. “take me home. now.”

[satoruhour]

need reader to have a confession with priest!geto about how they feel guilty for touching themselves late alone at night and priest!geto helps them by just fucking their brains out as a “penance” for their sins.

yes, i’m okay in the head btw! (lie)

AU REVOIR, O HEAVEN !

wc: 12.2k

warnings: DARK CONTENT, SLOW BUILDUP, CORRUPTION, priest!geto, fem!reader, age gap (reader is in early 20s, geto in late 20s), long descriptive fic that goes in depth of christian lore, lots and lots of christian references / metaphors / analogies, comparison to Satan’s banishment and fall from heaven, religious themes used in inappropriate ways, questions of religion and life, multiple scenes of f! and m! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, virginity loss, both f! and m! receiving oral, cumshot, praise, degradation, spitting, sex in a religious place, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

for a small town like yours, it was a no-brainer that everyone knew everyone; and everyone’s drama as well. from the baker’s daughter being a whore to the mayor of the town being sacked for purposes that have since been twisted by word of mouth. that was another thing: word got around fast, and it was particularly suffocating in a conservative town such as yours. people were not outright about the obvious choices they favoured, but there was the older generation who were not shy to turn down progressive ideas.

because of that, the previous priest was kicked out because of the misuse of funds from mass collection and offertory. it was one thing to see a bunch of notes missing from the sack and the money counter but it was another thing to see that money going into funding a new strip club that was opening in the next town over.

it was simply unheard of, and the parishioners basically gave him a free ride to that very strip club by excommunicating him from his own church. it was unbecoming of a priest, especially in such a small congregation that everyone made sure the new priest to transfer here was a God-honouring one.

you hope he was. you’ve always felt the obligated need to serve your god and your parents. always the good girl, following the Ten Commandments, saving yourself for marriage. it was the natural order of a christian, and you could only hope that you’d get even a fraction of the eternal life they preach about in mass. but lately you’ve been having some . . thoughts, and you pray that this new priest could help you immensely, even if you had to do a hundred Hail Mary’s at the pews.

it was peculiar, the first time it occurred to you. the area where your body separates into two and forms two legs — the centre of it all, the middle where Eve had it covered in statues and paintings with a leaf, the middle where you had only learned of it in anatomical drawings. you knew what the vagina, cervix and the ovaries were, but seeing the convergence of pink and maroon between your legs confused you, even scared you.

and the next was when you’d had a guy come up to you whilst doing up your university application, saying something along the lines of how cute you were, would you like to grab a drink some time? and you were left dumbfounded and unable to answer. you let your eyes travel over his features, of the exposed arms of his button up shirt and the thickness of his forearms, you let your eyes skim over his plump thighs before you’re asked “are you okay?”

“n . . no sorry, i already have a boyfriend.” you lie through your teeth and all the guy does is sigh before walking away — but now you’re left with a bigger problem . . why was the thing between your legs throbbing? you swear you can feel your panties getting wet as well, but you aren’t quite sure why.

that night you’re lying in bed with a lewd website shining right in your face, as you’ve laid here for about two hours already, going through in your head whether you really wanted to do this. your hands had been clean, untainted from the moment you were born, but you imagine going to university and knowing not a thing about sex and that makes your whole body burn in embarrassment.

you chicken out and fall asleep.

“honey! come down here, i want you to meet someone.” your mother calls out to you, running about like she usually does. she’s always overworking — caring for the newborn, cooking the meals, cleaning the place. why don’t you ask dad to help sometimes? / nonsense! he works so hard and deserves a break! i don’t mind. / but he just lazes around at home after work . .

you’re pleasantly surprised to find a long-haired man at your front door, clad in a thick and loose turtleneck sweater with a gentle smile on his face. that uncomfortable feeling returns to your core and you land a hand to your stomach to calm the churning that’s happening.

“hello, and you are?”

you’d never think you would see one of God’s angels on earth in actual flesh in front of you. you’re convinced God is looking over you and you think you might see heaven when that silky voice repeats himself again.

“hi, kind miss, are you alright?”

“h . . huh? oh! yeah, uhm— who are you?”

your mother smacks you on your shoulder and sidles up to your side, holding onto your arm a little tightly that it hurts just a bit.

“don’t be rude!” she whisper-shouts to you, “this is geto suguru, and—”

“and i’m the new priest for the church.”

that catches you off-guard. he’s the new priest that was just transferred over? he looks anything but a holy man of God, what with his long hair and gauges in his ears; if you didn’t know any better you would think he was the one paying for the strip club instead. he seems to read your mind.

“i know i look . . a bit of a delinquent, miss, but i promise you the word of God is what i strictly live by. i honour and praise him with all that i can.”

“ah, i’m sorry if you thought i thought that way, father.” you mumble, giving him an awkward smile that he misses because he’s too busy focusing on the way you say father. you’re prepared to close the door on him already; the pulsing sensation between your legs isn’t fading and your whole body feels like it burns in hell. you rub your thighs together for some sort of relief, nothing.

“that’s usually the response i get, so i thought i would preface it first.” a little laugh leaves geto’s lips and if it wasn’t for you holding on for dear life on the door, you definitely would’ve buckled under your knees. “no hard feelings.”

“he’s a charmer, ain’t he?” there’s another sheepish laugh from the pastor at that. “told me he’s been going around giving cakes to all the people as a way to thank them for letting him take over the church.” your heart melts at that — he looked so hot and had a heart of gold, too?

“what cake did you get us, father?” you blurt out and you have no time to take it back, but the preacher doesn’t seem to mind. you also don’t seem to mind that barrier of authority that was established ever since he‘s introduced himself as the new priest of the church. it felt . . friendlier, less intimidating than the previous. it was probably mostly due to him not wearing his cassock or collar, though.

“chocolate.” that one word possibly ignited every nerve in you. the smooth lilt in his voice paired with the slight smirk. it was detrimental. you were going to hell, you were condemned to eternal damnation.

“how’d you know i liked chocolate?”

he shrugs, “lucky guess.” wrong.

he had come around the day before already, but you were too distracted with work and pressured with a deadline that music drained out everything else — one look at your side profile and the hard-working first year university student was all it took for geto to return again today with another cake of your liking. oh! you’re such a sweet one for asking what flavour we like; frankly, my dear boy, my husband and i don’t really eat cake but her . . loves it for some reason. i wonder where she gets the sweet tooth from, honestly.

geto could only thank his saviour that your mother had promised not to tell you he already came around yesterday. and it looks like she didn’t.

“i should get going, miss . .”

“(y/n).”

geto simply nods his head, resisting the urge to call your name pretty and only manages a decent call to your mother. “mrs (l/n), i’m heading off, thank you for having me. (y/n).”

you return his smile, hesitantly, inching the door close with immense difficulty — you wanted to see him walk away with that imposing height of his, of the proper gait he carried himself with and the politeness in which he greets people of the town.

that night you locked yourself in your room, muttering out some dumb excuse of having to study for a test when in reality you were more interested in the feeling between your legs. it both excited and scared you when you first find a comfortable position on your bed, stalling for a good half ’n hour before the clinking cutlery of dinner happening downstairs had brought you to your senses. there were countless articles open in your safari tab, none of which helped your growing dilemma — a tear in the Red Sea between the sin of pleasure and the liberation of acting on it. you felt like Moses, treading in the centre, on the fence.

one last text made you yelp out loud.

[8:03 pm, read]: R u coming down 4 dinner?

it was your mother, as if she knew what was happening behind doors.

[8:03 pm, delivered]: nope, sorry mummy. need to study for this test, its important !

[8:05 pm, read]: Alright, alright. I left out a serving of what we cooked tonite. Heat up if u need to with the microwave O.K.? Don’t sleep so late!

you simply favourited her message, losing all motivation from before; until your mind crosses over dinner and goes straight to that chocolate cake, and then to the person who had brought it.

“Farewell happy fields / Where joy forever dwells: Hail, horrors, hail.”

“geto . . geto suguru.” the name feels foreign. it does sound like a countryside name but it felt like he had come from the city instead. “geto . .” you sigh, letting your hands tremble and move along your body. they brush over your chest, over your nipples and you recoil a little from the strange feeling. they harden under your touch as you continue to repeat his name.

each murmur of his name is a step farther from God, dipping your toes into the waters of hell as your fingers travel lower, lower, lower. you press a finger against your clit unknowingly, and you let out a loud moan; you immediately slap a hand over your mouth.

but the pleasure’s too much, and so you try again. one hand goes back to your nipples, squeezing your tits and playing with them while your fingers rub pathetic circles along your core.

“su . .” you gulp. “geto—”

you pant softly to yourself as you continue to rub your clit, messy, inexperienced circles in whatever shape or form. as long as it felt good to you, you were doing it. you made sure to keep your moans in as your hips bucked into your hands, back arching off the bed in needy movements. your hands were getting tired, clutching at the bedsheets.

long hair, built physique, crucifix on his neck. funny, you never noticed that before, but now you imagine it clearly, dangling over your face. you’re imagining geto fucking you, thrusting his cock into you as he groans out your name.

you’re at the end of your tether, feeling the deep plunge of your body in Satan’s lair the same time you cum for the first time in your life and your body shakes so violently. you flail around on your bed, bite into your shirt, anything to keep you quiet from the immense orgasm you had just felt. your pussy clenches around nothing and your hand aches so much it might fall off, but it just feel so damn good that you only have a minute’s rest before you’re rubbing at your clit again.

scooping up a little of your cum, you marvel at the clear liquid, sucking on your finger to try the thing that’s always drenched your panties. and soon you’re conjuring the image of the long-haired priest yet again, never really studying for that test you made up or even eating dinner — all you do is rest and come again, each time more wrecked than the last time.

you dreaded going to church the next morning.

it had slipped your mind that service was to continue once geto has gotten settled down in the rectory, a small outhouse at the back of the church that had been revamped. you’re not sure on how father geto was able to get it done up so fast but, you’re not one to question.

with the short walk to church, you regret not eating the night before, groaning softly at the discomfort of your growling stomach. what you were more worried of though, was what would happen to you once you stepped foot in the church. was your body going to go up in flames? were you going to get ridiculed by the townspeople? were you going to get called out by father geto in front of everyone?

“what’s gotten you so worked up?” your father was walking behind and smoking, as always, not giving a shit about your mother and the newborn.

“nothing . . just, wondering if i got everything in my head for my test.” your mother coos, and your baby brother in the carrier thinks it’s because of him. he babbles into your mom’s shirt, giggling.

“you’ll do fine, honey,” the reassurance worried you only more. you were lying outright — you had no test, you weren’t even studying, you were busy—!

“i raised a smart girl, didn’t i?” you can only manage a smile, reaching the church within minutes. taking the chance to mutter a short prayer and a plea, you take a deep breath and that light from above Lucifer’s kingdom seem to call out to you again.

stepping into the simple but cozy church, you dip your hands in holy water. Father, Son, Holy Spirit along your forehead, chest and shoulders before you trail behind your mother, suggesting places for you to sit at the back. she only waved your hand away, pointing towards the front. we always sit at the front! why the sudden change? / nothing . . maybe thought we could switch it up a little.

the mass starts after a few minutes of waiting, and you have the luxury of wallowing in your self-pity and guilt for those few minutes, trying to get the very filthy imagery of father geto above you, father geto between your legs, father geto himself out of your head. you fail, it’s only amplified when the bell rings and the congregation stands up.

everyone waits in anticipation for the new priest in this small town, hoping he won’t disappoint them like the last one. but they already seem to be in good spirits as he makes the entrance down the very short church. two altar boys follow behind him in the procession, accompanied by an organist and a duo of choir singers, straining to have their voice heard over the loud instrument. he’s already made some friends, nodding to the excited kid who whispers and the shy girl who waves her hands at him. but while everyone feels anticipation in hopes of a good sermon, dread is only making your legs feel like lead, you feel lightheaded, dizzy even.

because whatever you had imagined last night was him in his sweater get-up, and it just now sinks in what a disgusting thing you were doing as you watch the rich purple of his chasuble sway alongside his stole — the very image of him in his priest robes (in Lent season too, not to mention) — meant to deter you from more thoughts, only fed your desires.

geto suguru made being a pastor look so natural, and attractive, that it was almost criminal.

“good morning, brothers and sisters, how are we all doing this morning?” there’s a few murmurs around, but geto doesn’t falter, instead pressing on with his very convincing, beautiful speech; as does he with the rest of the mass. he conducts himself with as much professionalism as he can, handling the Eucharist with proper hands, giving a sermon whilst giving you too many eyes, distributing Holy Communion with a gentle, accepting smile; your skin burnt when he handed you the body of Christ, a soft inaudible “amen” hanging off your lips.

father geto was all the talk after, some hanging around to catch a minute of geto’s time if they could and you were no different, purposely looping your arm through your mother’s and slowly down your pace.

“goin’ out for a smoke.” your father gruffly tells the three of you, two of which understands better. your newborn simply cuddles deeper into your mother’s breast, humming softly into the nap.

“’kay.” it was opportunistic, now, as your eyes flit around the place to find geto talking to two older ladies. he’s politely bent down to reach their heights better, chasuble now removed and simply in his alb, one patting his shoulder and the other giggling. you think you imagine it but his eyes dart over to you for a moment and then off to the other parishioners.

“how are you two lovely ladies doing?” you hear him before you see him and the voice startles you a little, jumping back from brushing your baby brother’s almost non-existent hair.

“fine.” it comes out kurt and abrupt and you burn when your mother nudges you like yesterday.

“think what she means is that we’re perfectly fine. how was your first mass?”

father geto looks around the church, recalls the altar boys, ingrains each church-goer into his head, “i hope the congregation likes me.”

“oh, nonsense! i’m sure they do,” your mother reassures. she was always good like that, putting others before her and making sure they see the best in themselves, “that was a very riveting sermon you delivered.”

“yeah—! yeah, i . . really enjoyed it, father geto.”

a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, “did you now?”

you nod, and he continues, “you enjoyed me telling you that sin was revolting?”

when he phrases it like that . . you swallow, “isn’t that what God’s whole schtick is?”

and that makes father geto laugh, because for such an innocent flower like you, you make it sound like you were forced to go to church and made to learn the basis of why God exists and now you just don’t know what to do with it. it’s common for people at their university age where they’re exposed to more views and mindsets, to question the religion you were born in and think about what it meant to be tied to a god you didn’t even really know existed, and when that happens, Christianity turns stagnant and boring.

“yes, pretty much, miss (y/n), but His schtick also involves forgiving anyone who has sinned against Him. after all, that’s what He died on the cross for.”

“y . . yeah, i know, father geto.”

you only realise now his purple chasuble matches his eyes, eyes that swirl with the colours of amethyst. they’re much brighter in the parish lighting, and they hold your stare much longer than yesterday. there’s the tugging feeling at your stomach again that goes right down to your centre and it throbs; your eyes flutter and blink to get you out of your head.

“good that you know . . of course, it’s not an invitation to sin. self-restraint and chastity still exists,” you hate how he puts an emphasis on the latter word, because he could be referring to anything, “but we need not be worried for our lives. we only need to pray and repent in prayer, and God will have mercy on us.”

but well, if God didn’t want you to sin, how then can he explain creating such an attractive person? if God valued his followers’ self control, why did he have to plant such lewd, inappropriate thoughts of his preacher in your head?

father geto could probably see your dilemma with how hard he was staring at you, and he only makes it worse by putting his larger hand on your left shoulder. it descends deeper to your upper arm and the skin there ignites—

“i hope you liked the chocolate cake.”

you manage a small smile, “haven’t had the chance to try it, sorry, father.”

“don’t apologise.” you forget your mother and baby brother is even beside you with how he talks to you. you’d love to be on his chest, hearing the deep rumbling of his voice or even have his hands be somewhere else but your arm. you don’t know how simply talking to you has got him doing everything in his power to restrain himself; not even a prayer from God could help.

“The mind is its own place, and in it self / Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.”

what you don’t know, either, that the hand on your shoulder was between his legs just last afternoon, trying so hard not to sneak under his cassock. he could barely keep his moans in, palming his bulge from above his robes at the mere thought of you. no touching means less sin, right? he comes to that pathetic conclusion easily, so all he does is bury himself in the outhouse after distributing his cakes, hips positioned over his pillow and he grinds.

the feeling for father geto was so archaic, been so long since he’s given up his life to God right after graduating university. all the carefree times that he’s experienced — drinking in dorms, going to parties, getting some nice quick fucks in between exams — were going to stop for good. but that doesn’t mean he stopped lusting.

lust. one of the seven deadly sins, a weak point for father geto’s journey as a pastor. it’s obvious now too that he hasn’t really left his older ways, bucking his hips into the fabric of his pillow. he thinks of you, your sweet little eyes and your cute outfit at home, he thinks of your face twisted into pleasure as he’s positioned between your legs.

father geto twitches, friction against the underside of his cock feeling so good after years and years of holding back — with a pretty face to think of, too. his hips ruts in short thrusts, desperate for that high and he chokes on a moan imagining your sweet voice begging to cum. and so does he, shooting such a large, hot load into his underwear that even his cassock is stained with his cum. but unlike you, he’s already thinking of his next round — if he’s doomed to die by lust, then might as well go all the way.

father geto spares a glance towards the door just to be safe before flipping over on his back, and pulls his robes above his lower half. the sight is dirty, underwear painted a darker colour and cum sticking to every part of the fabric. once he wraps a hand around his cock, geto is gone, pumping it so fast he might have gotten a burn along his length but it’s all rewarded by the second quick orgasm he reaches — spurting ribbons of cum all over his holy garments.

it’s why he didn’t have time to write a proper sermon for the morning mass. he was up all night, stroking himself — just, from the thought of you.

it was father geto’s turn to have uneven breaths as you asked if he was okay, hand on your shoulder shaking. but the visions of last night is overtaken quickly by his need to impress the other parishioners, and so he gives you a tense smile.

“enjoy the cake.” it sounded like an innuendo if you’ve ever heard one, but you mutter a soft thank you, before heading off back home with your family. that contact with your shoulder is all you can think of, giddy at the warmth of his hand and eyes.

“baby, could you open the door for me?” your mother calls out to you, hastily wiping her hands on her apron and abandoning the kitchen to tend to your crying baby brother.

“ok, mummy!” the doorbell’s been rung twice now, jogging a little to the door to prevent the person from waiting. you didn’t think to look through the peephole, a tight-knit (conservative) community made you trust anyone, opening the door to find father geto standing in front of you.

“o-oh. hi, father . .?”

he was dressed in his roman collar, a black shirt with a white strip around the neck and some black jeans. it wasn’t as casual as the first day, and it still held an ode to God even on a weekday.

“hi, (y/n).”

“ohhh! it’s father geto, come, come!” your mother bellows throughout the house, baby brother on her hip as she bounces him to get him to stop wailing. “are you hungry already?”

geto displays a meek smile, “a little, mrs (l/n), since you mentioned how big of a feast you were cooking.”

your mouth drops in recognition; was that why she was so preoccupied for the whole day? doing the maximum in the kitchen not just because it was for your father’s recent promotion at his job, but also for dinner with father geto.

“you’re having . . dinner with us.” it’s more of a statement to yourself than a question to the priest, but he still catches on and assists you by closing the door himself, and taking off his shoes. already, he looks part of the family, looking like a hard-working husband coming back from his job to you. instead, he’s answered the vocation of priesthood, and not matrimony.

“it looks like i am.” it’s such a sly comment, like he already knew the effect he had on everyone. this sucking up was just to get every church-goer to like him more, and it’s working.

geto is charming at the dinner table as he is at the parish, cracking jokes that make both your parents and you laugh, talking about his university life and telling a myriad of stories that he’s gone through.

“what did you major in in university, father?” it felt such a weird question, especially with an honorific attached to something that you were doing at the moment — it felt out of place that someone so close to your age was already pursuing a lifetime commitment of serving God.

“my studies focused mostly on philosophy and theology. i minored in linguistics.” there’s a chorus of ooh’s that echo throughout the table, cleaning up the last bit of food on his plate before he continued. “i’m currently going more in depth for latin, which is a stunning language, beyond those who say it’s dead and should stay dead.”

that only makes him hotter, and you cross your legs beside him, looking at him from the corner of your eye at you play with the last meatball on your plate. the sauce leaves a trail of red from the tomato, somehow mirroring the murder of your old self — or what you thought it was. it was more of a knife wound, a cowardly stab in the arm.

that dinner with father geto only deepened your sense of guilt.

it was the way the priest was quick to stand just as your mother does, offering to help with cleaning up the dinner table. even when she brushes him off, he insisted, answering for her when he only silently takes the plates to the back. all your mom does is shake her head with a smile, letting you help as well. your father just watches curiously, entertaining the baby with his canned alcohol.

“i’m embarrassed i can’t fight back against you well enough to stop ya from cleaning up at my own house,” your mother confesses, already having used her last breath to tell him to not help with the dishes as well. you scrub at a stain on geto’s plate over and over, a stubborn one at that until you finally are able to get it out. it still leaves a faint red glow, though.

“it’s nothing, really, mrs (l/n), i’m happy to help whenever.” father geto’s eyes rake over your figure as you clean alongside your mother, heel bouncing up and down; to non-existent music or in impatience he wasn’t sure.

she just takes the soapy plate from your hands with a laugh, “c’mon, it’s okay, my dear. go entertain father geto.”

it was the way his courtesy shined through when he doesn’t enter your room until he has gotten verbal confirmation from you, guiding him in with a uneasy hand as he looked around your quaint little space. it was filled with photos, some plants, tons of research papers and a messy table to match, but all he did was reassure you. you take note of his flowing hair and the laid back hairstyle he liked to don when it wasn’t for mass.

“how is university treating you?” you’re stuck on being completely honest and lying with every answer, but father geto has a face that makes it difficult to lie to.

“it’s . . alright, i guess,” you settle on your bed, crossing your legs and hoping he wouldn’t pick up any of your essays. thinking is manifesting, though, and his hands naturally go for the paper with the many red markings on the front page.

“Paradise Lost? by Milton?” ah. that paper. you shoot up from the sheets before he can read it, because frankly your thesis in that paper was weak and wasn’t well supported, but you still believed it deeply. you were just having a little bit of trouble straying from your reverence for God. you only manage to clutch the top of your paper, but geto is adamant on reading it, piqued by genuine curiosity.

“the retelling of Milton’s Paradise Lost humanises the experience of Satan’s (or Lucifer’s) fall from glory . .” he trails off, reading over your evidences and analysis. you feel like you’re being read like an open book, laid out bare for vultures to pick at and for God to enumerate your sins until you felt no shame.

with his head still tilted down, father geto has to look up through his lashes and bangs, seemingly making you cower more and more in your spot as the unsolicited advice for your essay dies down on his tongue. the size of his hands has you hypnotised, and he decides it’s against his own values to give feedback about a text he so childishly brushed off when he was in university, even if he had to read it to complete four years in the seminary. geto places a hand upon yours and the heat is dizzying; you can’t help but think if he was just normal person, instead, holding your hand like this.

it was the way he let you explain yourself a little better through your own words. it was a premature essay, anyway, made to test out your close reading and citation skills. but he found your interpretation of Milton’s poem to be much more insightful than he expected it to be — you think maybe, your understanding of the text grows the more you learn about your body, how you like to be pleasured; you feel like Lucifer.

“i . . don’t necessarily think you are born into evil. it’s multi-faceted and loaded, this question. God our Father would do anything but create evil willingly, it’s just unfortunate that the people that bring up their offspring contribute to the shaping of their identity and outcome.”

“then, how . .” your lips twist as you think of a way to word the question, “how would that justify evil existing? wouldn’t the fact that evil is developed somehow meant that God created evil in some shape or form, in the first place?”

father geto rushes to answer but—

“why did he have to create the serpent that tempted Eve in the first place? couldn’t he have just left them alone in Eden?”

“...there to dwell / In adamantine chains and penal fire / Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms.”

you frown, not expecting the other to answer but instead just wallowing in your thoughts. you never thought the talk with father geto would turn into some philosophy lesson, but the more you chatted with him on the bed, the more the conversation seemed to steer that way.

your own faith wavers in the night, a quietness settling over the two of you like a cloak of stars. the mass of each star weighs heavily with your questions up in the air until you faintly hear his answer.

“i don’t . . know, miss (y/n).”

“ah! no no— sorry to dump everything on you, father geto,” you scratch the back of your head, “it was just passing thoughts. i’ve never thought to think of this before.”

it was morbid, it was macabre. it was like looking over and seeing a skeleton in your place instead of flesh and skin and yet each question after question ignites something in him that no one has excited before. he can already feel lust influencing the other six, pumping through his veins at a life void of God, void of religion, a free place to think of the omnipotence of a higher being that no one was sure really existed.

“it’s okay . . it’s natural to ask. it’s natural to inquire. God,” he nods like he was in a trance; the word feels weird on his tongue, “God would want this.”

that night you did anything but sin, clutching the essay between your hands and digging your knees into the floor with elbows on your bed until they ached and you prayed. you wished blessings on your family, you wished blessings on the parishioners, you wished blessings on father geto and you wished eternal damnation on yourself.

there’s a heavy pull on your heart when you go to sleep a few minutes after and the dream you have of your body turning to soot and burning with each feet into flames makes you crave salvation all the more — like all a bad dream, it will be fine as long as you pray, and pray, and pray.

but the flesh desires what the heart denies: the more you ‘hang’ with father geto (by God, he was perfectly okay with that word when you let it slip to your mother. he merely throws up a peace sign in a ‘cool’ way and then immediately cringes, but it makes you laugh), the more you find yourself attracted to his morals, to his ideals, to the natural way in which he exists. he could speak for hours on end, voice sounding like birdsong and a chilling breeze all at the same time.

his voice did wonders in your head, as well, coaxing you into betraying your own code; and you betray it easily. that phantasmic voice leaving you to remove your top and pinching your nipples as soft little moans leave your mouth. the imaginary sway of his crucifix above your face while you harshly abuse your clit and dip a finger into you for the first time. the feeling is so foreign and weird that you shamelessly think of the slight lilt of his voice helping you: “it’ll feel better soon, (y/n). c’mon, finger your pussy for father geto.”

father geto had a natural talent for talking and preaching. that downturn of tone like hitting a dead-end when he holds a point above your head (“but”) and then resolves it into perfect cadence like chords ending a phrase when he proposes a solution (“God will take care of everything”). he does it so much you think he’s rather convincing himself more than he’s convincing you, though.

“perhaps this parable that Jesus uses tells us rather to look within ourselves, to look within the vineyard that is us. the owner have done everything: kept the roots tied so it would not be trampled, making sure they get all the sunlight and water it needs, yet . .” he pauses a little, looking at the almost full parish now that he’s won over the hearts of your town. his eyes flit down to you at the second pew, shooting you a quick smile.

“and yet he yields sour grapes. we pray, we act civil and diplomatic, we are giving, but are you truly doing it for the glory of God? is that maybe why we only get the sour grapes — not satisfied with the ‘thank you’ after doing a favour or silence from God after praying daily?”

geto looks over the last bits of the scribbled sermon, a little more coherent than last week, but still done with thoughts of you. there’s multiple smudges of his words that he has to squint and stutter a bit, caused by the frantic cleaning of his cum upon the paper.

“we all . . naturally expect things back, but to be Christian, to be a follower of Christ, we would have to abandon all thoughts of that.” father geto’s mind wanders to last night as his eyes look for you again. “we would need to be generous, to be kind without needing anything in return.”

father geto integrates into the church easily, shown in how his sermons capture the hearts of many. albeit, they never really take in the true meanings of the preachings he gives, but it’s enough for geto if they nod and mutter amen like fools in mass; whatever they do out of it is out of his hands.

but along the many preachings he does, there is one subject he fears approaching: lust, the one thing that threatens the downfall of his vocation and yet he cannot get enough of it. each walk and meeting with you only heightens his desire, makes his cock throb beneath his robes. each sunday he wishes he could split his soul in half — one as the confessor and one as the confessing — and repent in the confessional box.

“today’s gospel from Mark, chapter 6 talks about lust, briefly.” there’s a shake in his voice, eyes now scrambling over the congregation to find you in a much more revealing top contrasting with the out-of-place cardigan you have on. he’s sure it was mrs (l/n) that had made you put that on before you left the house; the house where he’s memorised the placement of your shoe rack and how your door creaks when it’s opened too quickly. geto is so fucked.

geto clears his throat before continuing, seeing you adjust your body for a moment, “King Herod is tempted by his flesh when he sees one of Herodias’ daughters dancing, so much so that she tempts him to commit murder. a clear beheading, just from giving into her body, and when she asks of him, he delivers like a dog. this calls us to truly think of the desires that we possess. they need not be sexual,” soft whispers emerge, a taboo subject, “they can also be related to money, to power.”

“lust for more things turns into greed when we act on that initial lust,” geto is sweating by now. he pulls lightly on his collar when you press your arms together in retaliation and he has to look away from the way your tits perk up so perfectly.

you had to know what you were doing, surely. partially — you were feeling cold, but you stifle a smile when you realise how geto’s eyes linger a little longer on you, or rather your chest, before he coughs and continues,

“when we are driven so terribly by the feeling that we abandon all morals just to please this person, thing on earth is when we tread into dangerous territory. no earthly possession must make you feel this way,”

the irony settles in his bones after he says it and his dick twitches at the thought of having you under the podium right now, sticking his fat cock down your throat while you struggle to keep the gagging noises to a minimum.

“no matter . .” a gulp, “how rewarding the aftermath must be.”

father geto knows you both are braving the edge of God’s merry kingdom. it is just a matter of who falls first.

“your place is in the kingdom of God, meant to fulfil eternal life with Jesus and the Lord which is what we all should be keeping in mind and working towards, ignoring all the distractions that will soon fade and die off.”

geto coughs again in the mic and breaths shakily, finally tearing his eyes away from you before he concludes the sermon and eases into the Offertory and Eucharist. he buries himself so deep in the procession in order to get you out of his mind, and it’s shown in the haste in which he carries the mass. it feels like he rushes so much that even the day outside follows too, because evening seems to arrive earlier than usual.

the sun sets outside, illuminating the altar. it taunts you like reminding you of the beauty of your faith; it deepens the need developing in your core.

“body of Christ.” you can faintly hear it being repeated over and over at the front, just a few steps away from your turn and you wish you weren’t standing behind your dad’s hulking figure so you could actually prepare yourself for father geto. you’re greeted with his cascading hair tied up into a bun and the cup containing Jesus’ body, gold and shining. you see your stretched reflection before your eyes snap back to the pastor in front and you will your hands not to hail routine.

instead, you stick out your tongue for the father to put the communion on and you take in the little panic of his hands and the choked sentence of body of Christ. his eyes drift down to your pink tongue, to the small twitch it does when he places the host on it and he cannot wait for you to get out of his sight, lest he be overtaken by the sin he particularly preached about just minutes ago.

“any test to study for tonight, darling?” your mother asks after dinner, meaning to ask after seeing you be so fidgety like you needed to be somewhere.

“uh . . no, not exactly, but i do have something i need to do.”

“oh! what is it, sweetie?” she doesn’t read your expressions, you mannerisms, so you were safe from that, but you willed your voice to not break. your body is on fire, you needed to quell your needs, now.

“just— i promised father geto i would meet him later for a confession, since he’s so busy, he could only propose a late timing,” no, you didn’t. either way, you give a reason, explain yourself before she can speculate, works every time.

“oh, okay . .” she trails off, seemingly unaffected, “just don’t get home too late, alright, darling?”

you nod even though she’s too focused on the dishes, pressing a hand to her back in thanks and she carries on, carefree, while you sprint to your room. lock the door, get your phone out.

“ . . ings turns into greed when we act on that initial lust . .” the words recorded just hours ago leave the phone speakers on a low volume, already lighting a flame in your pussy when your hand brushes over the microphone and he stops at the same time, “when we are terribly dri . .”

you sigh loudly when your hand starts to make its way down to your centre, rubbing slightly to the sound of his voice. your clit is just begging to be touched, begging for your inexperienced hands flicking your nub in every which way. impatient, your hands dip into your cunt and your jaw drops open at the intrusion of your fingers, just as your eyes widen and your imagination has never worked as well as it does now.

you can see geto’s amethyst eyes boring into yours, you can see his hips fucking into yours and yet it doesn’t give you the same kick as you think it would — you’re fucking yourself with your fingers even faster, circles on your clit increasing in speed and messiness and you smear your juices all around.

“father— father geto—” it was pathetic, the way you moaned for a man of God, but the feeling of your cunt clenching around what you wished was his dick was too good, the coil in your stomach still feeling rather uncomfortable but welcoming and you’re unravelling with a silent scream soon, back arching off the sheets.

“s . . suguru, f-fuck,” the swear word feels weird on your lips, as with his first name, but the trembling of your virgin body is so delicious that you just keep rubbing and rubbing, taking so long to come down from your high as your pants get heavier and heavier. and then his face starts to fade off, eyes turning into lilac air and you’re glancing towards the crumpled essay on your bed with guilt festering in your chest.

“ . . mptations of the flesh are childish, are temporary. they lead you to do foolish things that have no place in the kingdom of God. we may repent and put it past us but the memories that our tainted bodies possess, they remember the sinful things that you did.” the recording of father geto dies out as with his powerful conclusion, speaking so loudly into the mic that it screeches with feedback, you remember. you don’t even know where the guilt builds up from, in your torso and your heart, despite questioning the faith you were in for all your life.

if God did not want us to sin, why did he create temptations and ask us to pray for forgiveness?

you roll over and remove your fingers with a small whine, taking up your phone and opening up the contact with father geto hesitantly. it was meant to be a strictly professional exchange like the conversations he’d had with many other parishioners: updates on the church, changes in mass timings, but your chat was filled with questions from you and answers from him. you didn’t dare ask him anything out of the faith.

[9:37 pm, delivered]: uhm. father geto? are you there?

oh god, it’s you. the you who on the second walk around the town exchanged numbers with him because he found your thoughts so intriguing.

[9:39 pm, read]: Yes, Miss (Y/N). What is it?

you take a deep breath. better to ask for that confession, you couldn’t risk your mother asking about it tomorrow.

[9:40 pm, delivered]: is it alright to have

[9:41 pm, delivered]: can i come over to the church, for a bit

father geto straights up in the rectory, getting closer to the socket where his phone was charging and hovers over the screen. his hands are clammy when typing a response and he manages it in about three minutes.

[9:44 pm, read]: Of course, my dear. The doors of the church are open for the congregation at any time.

bidding goodbye to your mother, you stay on the lit path to the church and you’re bathing in anticipation, too excited to see father geto that you bump into a dark shadow. almost resembling a hard wall, hands emerge from its sides to clutch at your biceps.

“miss (y/n), what is it? what has gotten you up so late at night?” if he was still in university, he would’ve laughed at how he asked that question. hundreds of texts of u up? that mimic the nature of the question right now. 

“i was hoping . .” you ignore the tingly feeling of the way in which his hands leave goosebumps along your biceps and then to your forearms. finally, they clutch your hands between his, meant to be like a warm hug but instead is like fire, licking at your fingers and wrist like you’re at the stake. “i was hoping that i could, request you for a confession?”

the priest across you swallows with a nod, swiftly putting a hand across your back to lead you to the booth. you both could’ve done it perfectly fine in the pews, sitting across each other. “the confessional is where we will feel the strongest compulsion of Christ. come,” he answers your question before you can ask it, “take your place on the kneeler behind the curtains.”

father geto showers in the same sea of anticipation when he makes sure you’re okay before heading over to his side of the confessional. he’s imagined this scene over and over — you on the pew kneeler, breath warming the velvet curtains — he cannot help the bulge that forms.

the first words he speak behind the curtain shock you, voice sounding so close yet so muffled and distant.

“come, now, (y/n), make the Sign of the Cross with me.”

Father, Son and Holy Spirit

upon your head, chest and shoulders you do it, taking a deep breath before you start. “bless me, father, for i have sinned. it has been . . about five years since my last confession.”

geto nods, the soft carry of your voice in the late night having an effect on the priest. the hold he has on the crucifix of the rosary is so tight it makes an indent on his skin, the only thing on mortal flesh to keep him from falling.

“What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield.”

your thighs rub together, hot breath sending chills down your clutched hands and down your arm as you ponder over the things you’ve done — “i’ve . . lied to my mother at times, to my friends when they ask me where i’m from. i have stolen money for my own needs, n-not— that high of an amount but um . . still a fair amount.”

“what did you need to buy, sweetheart?”

the name surprises you, but you simply ignore it. “i wanted new clothes — was all the rave at uni when the girls wore miniskirts and little tops. unfortunately it didn’t suit me.”

geto swears under his breath when the image of you in such skimpy clothing infiltrate his thoughts. his curiosity overtakes him; overwhelmed with emotion, he never had the chance to see what you were wearing before he pulls back the curtains and hopes your eyes are closed and they are: pulled tight with quivering eyebrows. there, like a sinning Christian is you in a thin camisole, cleavage showing beneath your arms. he peers lower, gasps softly to himself when you’re wearing a skirt.

“father? father, what’s wrong?” you think you hear the swift swoosh and the rings of the miniature curtain clatter.

“n—nothing is wrong, miss (y/n). are there any other sins you want to confess?”

you swallow, “i . . i’ve wished misfortune on my father.”

not the sin he was hoping for but he wasn’t surprised; his head moves in understanding. he had seen your father — merely a ghost in the house and hardly contributing to fostering the family. it goes against what Mary and Joseph stands for as the Holy Family, but father geto has seen a lot of absent fathers and incompetency to truly be taken aback anymore.

“i’ve also . . i’m not sure whether to tell you this, father geto.”

your breaths were all you could hear in the silence of the church, an eerie quietness settling as if the critters and animals of the earth strived to listen to your ultimate sin, too. Beelzebub, Asmodeus, possibly even Lucifer himself clawed themselves up from hell to eavesdrop.

“of course you can, my dear.” the wind through the wooden confessional box sounds like the hisses of the three demons, like they have had holy water sprayed on them from the mere sounding of his voice; but they look hopefully for a server of Christ to fall exactly like they did.

“it’s, related to my body, father. i,” gulping, you continue with a prompt from the other, “i’ve had this growing need, like, one has when they’re hungry. they have the need to fill their stomachs. or— or a sudden pain you have to massage yourself through, like a cramp in the arm of sorts.”

“well . . is it your torso or your arm?”

“it’s . .” you spare a glance towards your centre under your very, very short skirt, the familiar pulsing of your clit turning more and more prominent. “it’s related to my pussy, father.”

you hear a choke from the other side, and then you realise your choice of words.

“ah— m-my bad! i meant my . . vagina, father geto.”

“no— no u-uhm, the previous term was fine. could you describe what you did? how far did you go so i c-can . . give you the appropriate penance?”

behind the curtains, geto have already started palming his bulge, massaging the ache in his length that still continues to grow and harden. the way you describe is so terribly innocent and unknowing, a deepening urge to corrupt you running through his veins.

“i played with um— my breasts, first. i pulled up my top and felt around my nipples, but i got impatient and . .” geto hangs on to every word of yours, shifting to get his robes out of the way. it was just like the first night: his underwear stained with so much pre-cum it’s probably changed the colour of the garment. he peels it away and the lack of restraint leaves him sighing softly while you ramble on—

“i tried playing with that . . thing between my legs.” you recall the quick google search from that first night, “i played with my clit, father.”

geto stifles a groan into his hand just as he starts to stroke himself softly. “y . . yeah, and?”

“i tried to um . . fit my finger in. it was uncomfortable, at first,” you cannot ignore the pull of your core; your hand shimmies past the clasped hands and down to your skirt. you have no panties to swipe to the side: you came here without any. your finger rubs gently at the throbbing bundle of nerves, a soft whine leaving your lips before you remember you’re in the midst of a confession.

“but i . . i got it into my pussy soon enough. and then i put in another finger.” there was a more audible grunt from the other side, the confessional weirdly heating up immensely as you follow your confession: two fingers easily glide in from just how wet you were.

“when?” there’s a strain in father geto’s voice when he asks it, maybe because he was trying so hard to keep quiet. his jaw is locked as he pumps his cock slowly because his tip is leaking so much that even a simple movement would give him away.

“w-wha—?”

“w-when did you first start . . touching your pussy, (y/n)?” hearing a priest say such a lewd word makes you clench around your fingers.

“after you came to deliver t-that chocolate cake . . father geto.”

“f-fuck—” geto squeezes his eyes shut and it’s like he’s a university student again losing his virginity for the first time by the hands of some random chick pumping him. the implied confession has him stroking faster; it was after that trip he made to your house, it was after seeing you stand at the door like a good little girl, it was because of him, right? right?

you snap back the curtains and your mouth waters at the scene: father geto hunching over the little window that separates the two of you and his head hung low; his cassock gathers around his hips and his cock— good Lord, his cock was so big, clutched tightly between his left hand. his tip was weeping, an angry red as it continued to push out globs of pre.

“f-father!” geto doesn’t seem to care, giving you a drunk and nonchalant glance as he continues to stroke his shaft. he knows it’s wrong, doing this in the house of the Lord but it feels so fucking good. “y-you—”

you’re at a loss for words, pointing to his exposed bottom, but even though you’re speaking out against him, you can’t help but follow his hand as it moves up and down like a spell. his eyes are simply pleading, hips bucking up and you would think he was a parishioner instead. shaking in the presence of God, in the presence of you—

you stick your hand past the squeezy window, drawing his interest and before you know it you’re blindly bumping into his erection. there, he silently grabs your hand, guiding it to his shaft. he uncomfortably leans down to look at your face, eyebrows still furrowed but your tongue stuck out and his dick twitches in your hand.

“s-shit, baby . .” geto swears under his breath, and again when you pull on his dick to the window. uncomfortably his body lightly slams against the partition, a soft thud coming from the booth as his head collides with the wood, “(y/n) . .”

he can’t see you, but he can hear you. “may i, father geto?”

you don’t wait for his answer, gauging mainly from the heavy breaths coming from above you. they really do need to change the confessional, too, because you can clearly hear every word he mumbles out from the holes in the partition.

“shiiit—” when you kitten lick his tip, collection the pre-cum that continues to leave his tip, and it feels better than his Rite of Ordination and when he finally got to host his first mass. it’s better than that prophetic dream he has of God calling him to serve Him and the churches in the city with church-goers of boring faces and predictable stories.

here was a rural place, a place where he never expected such a pretty girl to practice the Christian faith, only to falter in the presence of a pastor. he’s gotten such a cute little slut to corrupt. you start to bob your head slowly, unsure of what to do apart from putting his cock on your mouth. your teeth grazes his skin a little and he hisses.

“no teeth. suck in your cheeks,” he cannot see you but he wishes he can, and he knows you listen to his advice when he feels only the smooth glide of your mouth and he wishes it was your pussy that you fingered.

“going deeper, darling,” geto grunts when he pushes his cock past your mouth and into your throat, the sweet gag you do making him dig his forehead deeper into the uneven wooden partition. he can hear your struggling sounds, the muffled moans with his cock down your cavern. but he cannot go any longer without seeing you and reluctantly he pushes you off, still holding your hand and you seem to catch his drift soon enough.

you’re as eager as him, bouncing off the kneeler and leaving your side of the booth, and you’re opening the door to his. the reality of the situation fully sinks in, geto standing there with his cock dripping with your saliva and your camisole pulled down under your tits.

“oh . . baby,” geto coaxes you into him, under a little spell of his when you trail in a light as a feather. you don’t resist his hands pushing you down to your knees, and just like earlier, you’re sticking your tongue out and the priest looks at you from under hooded lids.

“did you touch yourself to me, little girl?” it comes out stronger than intended but you seem to like it, even when your answers are cut off by him slapping his tip on your tongue. it’s so heavy, his cock, and thick too that you can help but suckle on it when you get the opportunity.

“ever since that day, father geto.” you look drunk, swirling your tongue around the tip and continuing to talk, “i . . i imagine you above me and sometimes i dangle my crucifix thinkin’ it’s yours.”

a small laugh escapes the priest. “did you now?” it’s reminiscent of the time where you praise his sermon. his laugh is cut off as you continue to suck him off, hands still confused. he helps you by bringing your hands to the places you can’t reach and you follow like second nature. “dirty fucking slut, aren’t you?”

“i promise i didn’t know anything before this . . father.” you look up at him through your lashes, big doe eyes proving every last bit of your innocence. aht, partially. you did watch a video of this chick blowing her boyfriend, cumming with your own fingers in your throat, wishing it was geto’s cock in your mouth instead.

but having a real cock in your mouth? it was divine, better than the body of Christ in melting on your tongue. your ministrations speed up, the obscene noises of you gurgling reverberating in the wooden box late at night. it would be even worse at the altar where it would echo everywhere.

“y—yeah, baby, that’s it, that’s it . .” his eyes are shut tight, intoxicated on the way your warm mouth feels. you whine into his shaft, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from how deep he was in you.

“mmf— mmph!” your moans sends vibrations up his body, interrupted when geto thrusts his hips into your mouth suddenly and your nose meets with his pubes, eyes rolling back from the muskiness of his body. it smells like incense and sweat, filling your senses as he keeps you right up to his hilt.

“ohh . . fuckfuck fuucck—!” the father pulls you off to let you breathe, pleasantly surprised when you start pumping him violently, tongue stuck out again. there’s a hint of light from the outside that highlights the pinkness of your tongue and he’s never wanted to cum this badly before.

“i’m cumming— baby, baby, i’m g’nna c-cum—” there’s a long, drawn out whine from father geto upon feeling the warmth of your hands stroking his cock so obediently, resting his tip on your tongue where you’d willingly drink his cum like wine. geto shoots his load into your mouth and is the loudest he’s ever been; he doesn’t care who hears him, he doesn’t care if he gets transferred out tomorrow, all he wants to think about is you on your knees and your nipples hardened from confessing to him. he’d like to bet that your pussy was drooling too, hips bucking into the soft skin of your hands.

some of his cum gets onto your face and on your lips, and geto almost cums again when you use his tip to smear his seed around your face, sucking lightly on his tip.

“dirty girl . .” he pulls on your biceps to bring you up, and your lips meet instantaneously like you were meant to be separated for eternity, doomed only to meet for one day a year. it’s messy and sloppy, drool drips from your sides of your mouths as your lips merge together.

“was that your first kiss, baby?” father geto can tell by how you don‘t know how to follow his lead, teeth clashing and breathing uneven.

“am i that obvious?” you frown, feeling self-conscious, but geto is quick to reassure you.

“father geto’s going to teach you everything you need to know, alright?” he brings you in with a finger to your chin, hovers over your lips like a tease.

he teaches you everything you want to know and more, like how the front of the church looks like and how cold the marble of the altar feels against your back as he eats you out and the sensations are all too much for you. he teaches you that using God’s name in vain is alright when it comes to moaning out how good he makes you feel and how your penance is whatever he makes it out to be he teaches you how you can take not one, not two, but three fingers up your pussy.

they’re so much thicker than your own, one hand pushing on your shaking thighs to keep them open while his three fingers move in and out of you. you’re leaking so much, your virgin cunt dripping like holy water down the white marble and onto the matching marble floor.

he teaches you his first name and he makes sure you say it.

“su—suguru . . god, r-right there—” he latches his mouth onto your clit, suckling and flicking his tongue impatiently because he just wants to see you cum. your legs stretch out to knock over a candelabra and the clatter of the metal against the ground is enough to wake up a whole village but you. don’t. care.

your hips grind onto his tongue, feeling the borderline painful stretch of his thick fingers in you but they reach all the right spots that you can’t find it in you to care.

“you taste so good—” geto spits onto your cunt and goes back to sucking on your clit, “pussy’s so fuckin’ sweet, holy fuck.” your noises come out of you non-stop as you bury your hands in his hair, finally knowing what you sound like in an unrestrictive space under the apse.

father geto teaches you how to take a cock up your cute, tight pussy, not bothering for a condom when basically all of your clothes have been discarded throughout the night. it’s almost midnight and your mother have fallen asleep on the couch, unaware her sweet, sweet daughter is losing her virginity in the place she was baptised, where she got her first communion.

the first push into your drenched cunt is painful, mushroom tip stretching you out slightly as you clutch tightly onto his forearm, brows knitted together at the girth of his cock.

“been wanting . . to fuck this pussy so bad, baby,” geto grunts it out, obsessed with how his length slowly disappears into you. he can feel each ridge of your gummy walls, hugging him so snugly that there’s several moans that leave his lips, “have you been— thinking ’bout this as much as i h-have?”

your jaw stretches beyond your limit when he eases himself inch by inch into you, thanking the hells below that your vision was finally coming true. above you there’s that same crucifix, sterling silver with amethyst stones embedded into the design, you remember, catching the light of the lone spotlight above the both of you. there’s a similar glint in father geto’s purple eyes.

��all the time, father—” you moan out, pulling him by his necklace to your lips that are more experienced now, each minute that passes is one more atom of your body turning black from the fire that licks at you from below the altar. you kiss the lips of your parish priest, whimpering slightly when his hips buck and you feel the stretch more clearly now.

“is this what Isaac felt when Abraham tried to bind him for a sacrifice on Moriah? helpless, confused, betrayed?”

geto lets out a hum, sucking hickeys into your neck and you think it’s a million times better than questioning a God that never showed himself, who never really had the intentions of the people in mind, who created sin to watch the downfall of men while he enjoys his time in his kingdom.

if this was what was meant by losing yourself to your devils, you would gladly shake hands with Lucifer and hope the warmth of the fire in hell would be a hug warmer than any hug you’ve received by people of the Christian faith.

“well, baby, do you feel helpless?” thrust “confused,” thrust “and betrayed?” thrust

he punctures each word with a snap of his hips and the pain gives way to pleasure and soon he’s already lost in the comfort of your pussy, hips starting a pace easily that emphasises just how wet you are. the echoes of your weeping cunt and the lewd slapping of his balls into your ass is like the bell ringing during mass, loud, resonating, it shakes your whole body.

“mmfuck . . helpless, m-maybe,” you whine out, legs wrapping around his back, “confused, n-not— suguruuu, yesyesyes!”

you try again, “n-not really. betrayed . .”

you feel like a sacrifice, but it was willing, of a confession that has led to this lewd showing of just how much the temptations of the flesh were insanely undeniable. there’s a murmur of i don’t think i can last much longer into your ear, cock driving into your tight pussy so harshly you’re hoping the small altar doesn’t move.

“b-betrayed, i think—” you squeal when father geto angles his hips up and it kisses your cervix just nicely, sending multiple chills down your body. your moans penetrate the holy air, hair splayed out like a painting and geto knows this is better than any Eucharist he’s ever tasted.

you clench around his fat cock, and he twitches, switching to short, pathetic thrusts into your pussy and he cries out your name as he cums deep in you, giving you all of his seed deep in your womb. your breath catches in your throat at the feeling of your first load, the warmth already hooking you in and you pull so hard on his hair he has no choice but to follow your hand.

you let him handle you deep into the night, taking you off the altar and pushing you up against it, entering you again and you brace yourself against the marble.

“s-sorry, sweetheart, you were saying?” he also wants to apologise that he hadn’t made you cum just yet, but your pussy’s so fucking heavenly he just has to be in you again.

“i-i feel a little betrayed,“ you sag over the altar, back arching into his hold. father geto is fixated on the movement of your ass fucking back onto him, “that a priest would break his m-marriage to God for me.”

“i thought they were supposed to be men of God,” you barely manage to form sentences. geto’s laugh at that startles you, as with the hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling. payback. you love it, however, a sweet Christian girl turned into a slut, and the last bits of the thread unravels when father geto reaches around to rub your clit.

“’m gonna— cum, suguru—” you whine out, body turning to mush with how hard he rams into your pussy. by now there’s a ring of white around the base of his cock, your juices slowly starting to coat it, too and Lucifer succeeds at sin yet again.

you cannot blame Eve when the serpent is as beautiful and cunning as geto suguru, nor can you blame her when his thick cock just reaches so deep into you, tip kissing your sweet spots and his hand impatiently drawing messy circles on your bundle of nerves.

“that just makes it the best though, right?” geto breathlessly says, “a holy man fucking a virgin raw in a holy place where prayers are said.” your legs are spreading further and further, his sweaty body engulfs yours, you’re dizzy, “you’re too tempting, sweet girl. tempting enough for me to want to abandon priesthood just so i can be buried in this pussy for fucking eternity.”

and you cum, head and heart going a hundred miles per hour as your body trembles in his hold. “there we go, little slut, thereee we go . .” you can feel the chill of the sterling silver into your back and his smile before he orgasms a second time into your waiting pussy, a second, heavy load let go into your pussy. it’s so warm and filling, and you already want more, more, more.

lust for more things turns into greed when we act on that initial lust.

“aw,” father geto coos at your fucked out face, flipping you around to give you a sloppy kiss and forcing himself to his knees just to watch his cum drip out of you, “does she want more?”

“always, father.” you answer with a drunken smile, putting a leg on his shoulder. again, your finger hooks around his crucifix, and you drag the priest down deeper into hell, somewhere father geto would‘ve always ended up.

somewhere where he would renounce his priesthood and worship something, and someone: you.

“Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav'n.”

a/n: LOOOONG MAN WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS. also i put the author’s note at the bottom this time bc i wanted to format of the fic to look the best without my goofy words ruining it! hope you guys liked it :) / tagging @crysugu @omgeto @kazushawty @suguruplsr @hydrovillette @slttygeto @hyomagiri @jabamin

part two ✶

[thelovelyruin]

𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you’ve got a crush on choso, and he’s reading the signs.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : college au! smut, fluff, porn with plot, vaginal sex, oral sex, praise, teasing, overstimulation, fingering, edging?

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 4.7K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from see you again (rock mafia remix) by miley cyrus.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, here I am with another choso fic. thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

I got my sights set on you, and I'm ready to aim.

“And, this is Choso!”

Now, you couldn’t remember whose idea it was to go to the fair (probably Yuuji), but at this moment, you were too grateful. To think you were going to miss out on this because you would’ve instead worked on classwork that was due NEXT week. Mai begged you to take a break, and you agreed to go like a good best friend. And thankfully, you did, cause if not, you would’ve never met him.

I have a heart that will never be tamed.

Choso was a little awkward. Nervous, for sure, but he had that demeanor that told you he was a lot more chill when he gets comfortable. Now the question was, why wouldn’t he be comfortable? That was, of course, because he was meeting you. Nonetheless, his ambition drove him to initiate a conversation with you, putting his anxiety on the back burner and acting “normal.”

“So, you’re Mai’s friend?”

Obviously, you were. A blush crosses your face, giving an awkward smile before looking at Mai. She understood immediately, face lighting up a bit when she realized you had the hots for him. With a smirk, she looked at him.

“Uh, yeah! She’s my best friend, can’t you tell?”

Choso directed his attention at Mai, giving her a squinted look. Not that he didn’t appreciate her, but he was already having a hard time talking to you, and she definitely wasn’t making it easy.

“Well, now I do. Thanks for the clarification, ma’am.”

“No problem, sir.”

She jabbed his arm, causing him to chuckle. Looking back at you, he smiled a bit.

“Hopefully, you aren’t as crass as your friend here.”

“I try not to be.”

“Hey, what the hell does that mean?”

You were giggling now, loosening up as you realized there wasn’t much to be nervous about. Choso was just a normal guy, a really hot, normal guy. That didn’t stop you from tucking your hair behind your ear nervously, it was so damn obvious you were flustered, but Choso was none the wiser.

I knew you were something special when you spoke my name; now I can't wait to see you again.

“Hey Choso! We’re heading over to the rides.”

Yuuji was now walking over to you guys, patting Choso on the back. When he noticed you standing there with Mai, his face lit up with surprise.

“So, Mai got you to come out and play! You do magic on her or something?”

“NO, I DID NOT. You guys are assholes, she came out on her own volition!”

Now, you and Yuuji have known each other for a while, but he’s just as irritating now as he was when you met him freshman year.

“I thought it would be fun to relax a bit and decompress from studying.”

Choso perked up at your comment, grateful to have something, anything, to work off of.

"Oh wow, what're you studying?"

Almost instantly, everyone’s eyes were on Choso. Mai looked at him intently, mostly in shock. You looked at him more relaxed, prepared to have a normal conversation with him. But Yuuji, as oblivious as usual, did not catch on to Choso trying to make conversation with you.

“Well, as much fun as this little chat is, I’ll be stealing Choso now. Inumaki and the others are waiting for us so we can ride a few rides.”

With that, Yuuji was hauling Choso with him to somewhere in the fair. But what you did not expect was Choso looking back at you, giving you a little wave, then turning to tell off Yuuji.

I've got a way of knowing when something is right.

“So, your friend…”

Mai shot the water into the target, attempting to get one of those oversized stuffed animals for the past ten minutes. When she lost again, she slammed another 5-dollar bill on the counter, demanding another turn.

“Yeah, you talkin’ about Choso?”

The game reset and she went to town. Mai was deadlocked on the target with the precision of a sniper. But, 30 dollars later, she finally won. Cheering and practically ripping the stuffed dino off the rack, she looked at you with sparkles; she was so damn proud of herself. After that, you two decided to get some fair food.

“Yeah, him.”

Pointing to the funnel cake stand, Mai dragged you closely behind her; you were attempting to catch up as fast as possible. She quickly ordered you guys a funnel cake; of course, the two of you had to share.

“You like him? I can totally tell. You looked like you were a pot about to boil over.”

You start scoffing, laughing nervously as you feign offense to her comment. But she really wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah, well, YOU say that! Do you think he noticed?”

"Babe, he totally noticed. Choso isn't the type to say something though, so whether he did or didn't, the world may never know."

You grab the funnel cake from the window, finding a picnic table to set up base. Mai was giving you that look now, that one she gives when she has an idea, and that’s never good.

“What the hell are you-”

“You know, he’s single. Haven’t seen him talk to a girl since freshman year, and that wasn’t very long.”

“Shouldn’t that be a red flag? What if he’s an asshole?”

“Oh, he’s far from that. If anything, I just think he can’t get laid to save his life. BUT, then there’s you.”

You avert your eye contact with Mai to the floor, too embarrassed to look at her.

“Look, you don’t have anything to worry about with him. He’s a nice guy and I’m sure he’d treat you well, in more ways than one.”

She winks at you as you jab her on the shoulder. As much as you loved her, she could be a pain in the ass, but as she would say, ‘your pain in the ass.’ 

I feel like I must've known you in another life, cause I felt this deep connection when you looked in my eyes.

After finishing the funnel cake, you guys walk about the fair, looking for another game to play, that is, until a set of hands comes in front of Mai’s eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Yuuji, get your paws off my face or I’m gonna beat your ass.”

With a pout, he lowered his hands, sneering at her when she turned around. As you turn to face him, you see Choso standing beside him, already looking at you. Reacting to the eye contact, he awkwardly puts a hand behind his neck.

“Uh, hey.”

“Hi, um… how were the rides?”

“They were good until Megumi and Inumaki threw up, so Todo drove them back to the dorms.”

Yuuji then looks around you and Mai, a confused look on his face.

“What about you guys? Where’s everyone else, or did Mai scare them off?”

“Yuuji, you’re on thin ice. We came by ourselves, GIRL’S night out.”

“Well, me and Choso are doing the same, isn’t that right?”

Choso looked at Yuuji like he had two heads.

“You mean when you badgered me for an hour so I’d come with you guys? Boy’s night out, for sure.”

You chuckled at Choso’s rebuttal, which didn’t go unnoticed by Yuuji. From that, Yuuji looked at Mai, who looked at you, then at Choso, prompting Yuuji to do the same.

“Well, what’s a little get-together, am I right?”

“Weren’t you just adamant about the boy's night out thing?”

“Yes, Choso, I was, but I’ve had a change of heart. They'll be riding the rollercoaster with us, isn’t that right, Mai?”

You shoot a panicked look at Mai, and simultaneously, Choso shoots the same to Yuuji.

“Yeah, Yuuji. You’re right. Let’s head over now.”

You and Choso’s eyes met, quickly blushing and averting your gaze. In that moment, you knew you were, to put it simply, down bad.

Now I can't wait to see you again.

The last time I freaked out, I just kept looking down.

Now, rollercoasters weren’t usually your thing, but when Mai gave you that puppy dog look, you couldn’t tell her no. She and Yuuji ran to the gate, leaving you and Choso behind to walk there, neither of you as excited as your friends.

“Looks like it’s a two-seater. Well, Mai, I think we should ride together!”

“You know what, Yuuji? That’s a great idea.”

You yanked at Mai’s sleeve, meeting her wide smile. The fuck are you doing? you whispered to her, still smiling in an attempt to act normal. Helping you out, duh, she whispered back, gently removing your hand from her shirt. As the ride attendant opened the gate, Yuuji and Mai flew to the front seat, leaving you and Choso on the bay.

“Is there, uh, anywhere in particular you want to sit?”

“The middle to back is fine!

With that, Choso guided you to a seat, holding your hand to help you sit in the cart. He sat down softly as you frantically looked for the seatbelt.

“Here, let me help you with-”

He noticed the harness sat right on top of your chest, which, if he wasn’t blushing before, he was completely flustered now. You both waited awkwardly for the ride attendant to strap you in.

I st-st-stuttered when you asked me what I'm thinkin' 'bout.

Yuuji, extremely excited about the thrill of the ride, turned around and shot a thumbs-up at Choso. What did that mean? God, it was so obvious even Yuuji could tell. Or did Mai say something? They had been looking back and forth, which could be-

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

Well, you couldn't tell him the obvious answer, of course. You boggled your brain, trying to come up with a lie to say. But then he wrapped his arm behind your head, resting it on your neck. You were about to combust. You damn near shook with both anxiety AND rouse.

Felt like I couldn't breathe; you asked what's wrong with me.

“Somethin’ wrong? Sorry, I should’ve asked first.”

He began to retract his arm.

“No! I'm fine, you’re all good haha.”

You decided just to shut up and shoot him an awkward smile, preparing for the ride that began to take off.

“Good, can’t have you scared. Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.”

Oh, it was gonna be over soon, alright, because you were gonna pass out from the feeling of him bringing you into his chest.

The next time we hang out, I will redeem myself, my heart it can't rest 'til then.

You couldn’t get off that fuckin’ ride quick enough. You unbuckle yourself swiftly, running over to Mai, who was still talking to Yuuji.

“Hey there! How was the ride?”

“It was great, but I think we should really get going!”

She looked at you in concern, then at Choso walking up behind you guys, and then at Yuuji, who was confused per usual. Before Choso could walk up, you put your head down and walked down the bay, stopping at the ride's exit. 

“M’kay, bye!”

You were too embarrassed from getting all worked up over an arm; you couldn’t even face him. Mai stood there talking to both Yuuji and Choso, obviously upset, with Choso putting his hand up in a confused motion. God, this was torture. After a couple of minutes, Mai walked up to you, patting you on your back. And with that, you guys went back to your dorm.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again.

I got this crazy feelin' deep inside when you called and asked to see me tomorrow night.

You had just got in bed for the night, still coming down from the roller coaster, both the physical and emotional one. What were you doing? It was a perfect opportunity to talk to him, and you screwed it up. Now, he’s probably-

You’re interrupted from your thoughts by your phone ringing. You take it off the charger and turn down the brightness, reading the screen. A random number? This late? You almost declined the call, but then the asshole in you had the idea to answer and give the night caller a piece of your mind. You click the green button, putting your phone up to your ear, an arsenal of insults on standby.

“Who is this? You know it’s 11 p.m., right?”

“Oh, um, sorry. It’s Choso. Didn't realize it was so late, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Your heart dropped to your ass. Choso? How the hell did he get your number? Then, it struck you, when he and Mai talked on the bay. You shift your whole mood from threatening to weak in the knees.

“Oh, no, it’s fine! Sorry, thought you were a scam caller.”

“Yeah, I guess I could’ve texted you first. Happy you still accepted the call, though.”

“So, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to, uh, apologize for earlier. Wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable or anything like that.”

You began pacing around the room, trying to keep quiet and not wake Mai.

“Oh, no, I just, um, it was nothing, I was just, um…”

“I was nervous, too, to be honest. I mean, I was scared I blew my chances with you.”

You stalled your movements in disbelief at what you had just heard.

“I don’t think I, uh heard you right, could you-”

“Can I take you out tomorrow night?”

You had to turn off the mic; you couldn’t help but scream into your pillow. After gaining composure, you turned the mic back on.

“What did you have in mind?”

“How’s a movie? Yuuji said you wanted to watch that new one, Human Earthworm 3, I think?”

So, Yuuji had said something to him. To be fair, they were brothers, so that would happen eventually, but you felt something itch inside you at the thought of all the things Yuuji could have said.

“So, uh, is that a yes?”

“Oh! Um, yeah, I mean, yes, sure. What time?”

“Be ready at 6.”

You were about to begin jumping around like a goddamn maniac.

“Okay, got it.”

“Okay, see you, tomorrow, angel.”

Before he hung up the phone, you could hear Yuuji cheering in the background. What the actual fuck just happened. Like clockwork, Mai jumped up, smirking. She’d been awake this whole time.

“So, he had the balls to ask you! I wasn’t expecting that one.”

I'm not a mind reader, but I'm reading the sign that you can't wait to see me again.

Now, it’s not like you were super excited about the date or anything. Not when you started getting ready at 12 despite you needing to be ready at 6, or when you repainted your nails, or when you waxed yourself, or when you were asking Mai which outfit you should wear. 

“Trust me, whatever you wear, he’s gonna like it. He’s happy to even be dating you!”

She had a point.

“But Maiiiii, what if he doesn’t like these jeans?”

“Weren’t you wearing jeans when you met him?”

“Ugh, shut up!”

“Whatever ya want, sweetheart.”

You decided to just go for a black dress, which was pretty short, but, come to think of it, wasn’t really a bad idea. But then, what shoes were you gonna wear? Which purse would-

Your phone lit up, a text from Choso.

“Outside :)”

Shit, it was six already. You started to panic, looking for anything else you were missing. As you turn around, Mai’s holding a pair of sneakers and a purse to match. You squeal and kiss her on the cheek, rushing to put your sneakers on as you stumbled out the door.

The last time I freaked out, I just kept looking down.

As you walked down the stairs, you began freaking out. You were about to be alone with Choso for hours, which you were fucking ecstatic about, but you realized you didn’t have the balls for this. But then, you get a thought from Mai, ‘Get it together, bitch!’

Damn it, why was she always right??? Not wanting to make him wait any longer, you sucked it up and walked outside. Choso leaned against his car, wearing a basic black tee covered by an aviator jacket with a pair of cuffed jeans. Damn, he looked good. Little did you know, he was thinking the same about you. That little black dress had him staring, mind trying to picture what might be underneath. You walked up to him quickly, holding your purse awkwardly, noticing his gaze checking you out. 

“You look great.”

“Thanks, not too bad yourself.”

You had to contain yourself. Like who, me? You send him a flirty smile as he opens the car door for you, going under his arm to get in the seat.

“You smell damn good too.”

The movie was pretty okay; not like you were really paying attention, though. When you guys sat down in the movie, Choso expectedly draped his arm around you, pulling you close to lay on his chest. What really sent you over the edge was halfway through the movie, when he brought his arm lower, slinking it around your waist, hand resting on your hip. He was dangerously close to your ass, there was that fine, fine line, and he was skating on it, making sure not to move too much in case he did cross that line cause the last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable again. After what felt like a year, the movie was over, and people spilled out of the theatre, clearly a full house. You and Choso were stragglers, only a handful of people still sitting around, and when he noticed, he brought his arm back over, nearly making you cry at the retreat. 

I st-st-stuttered when you asked me what I'm thinkin' 'bout.

“How’d you like it?”

“It was okay, not as good as the first one. What about you?”

“I haven’t seen the other ones, but it was pretty good!”

Choso stood up, taking a big stretch after sitting for so long. Your eyes immediately caught the slight lift in his shirt, his v-line and lower abs flexed as he groaned a bit, and fuck, it sounded good. He brought his hand down, encouraging you to take it, pulling you up, and putting his hand back around your waist. He held it firm, guiding you out of the theater and back to the car, helping you inside. You were dreading the fact the date was coming to an end; you had to think of something to prolong-

Choso’s phone rings, Yuuji’s contact picture illuminating the screen. With a deep sigh, he answers it.

“What?”

“I take it you’re still out?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Well, bad news. I locked myself out of the room. Can you come here and let me in?”

“I’m on a date, motherfucker.”

“Oh yeah. Bring her with you!”

“Jesus Christ.”

Choso mutes the mic, looking at you. Now, you weren’t exactly looking forward to seeing Yuuji, but spending more time with Choso was your prerogative. You give him a nod and a smile, and his annoyance fades slightly. Unmuting the phone, he rolls his eyes.

“Be there in 10.”

“Thank youuuu!”

“Fuck off.”

The ride back to their dorm was pretty fast, but it was hard to think with Choso’s hand rubbing your thigh. Once again, skating on that fine line of nearly touching a little too far up your dress, but thankfully for the both of you, he had some self-control. Your presence was eating at him, though; every time you smiled, he couldn’t help but stare at your lips or look at your ass as you walked before him, exiting the theater. Thank god your dress covered your chest, cause he’s pretty sure that would’ve killed him too.

You waited for him to open the car door, second nature, to feel his hand on your side. Yuuji sat in one of the chairs in the lobby, perking up at the sight of you guys walking through, then pouting.

“You guys took forever to get here!”

“It was 13 minutes.”

Choso, tired at this point, walked the two of you upstairs to their room. He unlocked the door with annoyance, letting Yuuji and you walk in. 

“So, where did you put your keys? I’m not unlocking it again.”

Yuuji walked to the door and stepped outside, rummaging through his pocket and conveniently pulling out his keys.

“Look, they were here all along! That’s so crazy, haha.”

When you and Choso realized what had happened, it was already too late. Yuuji had since locked the door behind him, hearing him laugh as he walked down the hall.

“That fucker had his keys the whole time. Why am I not surprised?”

“Because it’s Yuuji we’re talking about here.”

Choso took a deep exhale and sighed.

Felt like I couldn't breathe, you asked what's wrong with me.

“Sorry about the unnecessary detour, I can go ahead and-”

You brought his lips to yours experimentally, him pulling back to look at you. Damn, you were nervous, but the lack of touch and the lust had completely taken over you, you knew what you wanted, and it was him. You kiss him firmly, pushing him back onto the bed. Instantly, Choso picked your legs up and placed them on either side of him, positioning you in his lap as he kissed you back. All he could seem to do was touch you, exploring your body, hands groping everything he touched. 

Out of his mind, horny, he brought your hips down to grind against his, feeling his dick rub against you through his pants, making you moan softly. He was becoming hungry, hands climbing up your dress to unclip your bra, bringing your clothed nipple into his mouth. Indulging in the little moans he pulled out of you was nice, but Choso was fucking selfish. He wasted no time flipping you over so your back lay against the bed, opening your thighs to position himself between them. That little black dress? Choso had stripped it from you, along with that bra, somewhere on the floor of his room. Now, Choso wasn’t a virgin, but the way he stared at your topless body would make it seem like he’s never seen a pair of tits before.

“You’re so damn pretty.”

He brought his shirt over his head, discarding it and his jeans, thinking your panties should go too, but you looked damn good in that thong. So, why not have a little fun? Choso pulled up your panty line, making your thong outline your pussy, soaked lips spilling out the sides, but not quite enough that you were fully exposed. Rubbing your clit through the fabric, you were getting so wet that your thong was soaked in your pre-cum. Wished he had a photographic memory, because he was in love with the sight he got to see when he decided to be nice and finally strip you of your panties. You were on full display to him, and like a siren, you brought your fingers down to spread your lips for him, inviting him to touch you in some way. He had something way better than that; trust. Cause at this point, he was flipping you on top of him, bringing your hips up to him so he could taste his your pussy on his face. You hesitated at first, scared you were gonna suffocate him, but with one look at his face, you knew he didn’t give a fuck. He brought your hips down so your pussy landed on his tongue, then it was go time. Sucking, licking, kissing, he was doing everything he could, addicted to your taste and scent. God, your pussy was delicious. He almost damned Yuuji and Mai for taking this long to introduce you to him. For taking so long to let him date you. For taking so long to let him please you. 

“Choso, fuck!”

He was feining for it, the way you were moaning his name like a prayer, and his mouth was something to believe in. That’s why you started gripping his headboard, shamelessly grinding your pussy across his face as you feel your orgasm approaching. You look down at him with those pretty doe eyes, and when they meet his, he starts licking your clit, flapping his tongue as he drew circles around it. Every cycle, every rotation, it was too much.

“I-I-”

You didn’t have to finish that sentence. Knew the second he felt your pussy spasm against his tongue, cumming in his mouth as he continued pleasing you, gripping your hips so you couldn’t move as you rode out your high. Finally, when you started whimpering from overstimulation, he decided to let you go, but you weren’t getting off that easy. Within seconds, Choso had you on your back, legs wide open, as he slid his dick inside your pussy.

The next time we hang out, I will redeem myself.

You honestly didn’t know you could cum that hard, let alone moan that loudly; so grateful the room next to them was vacant. But it wasn’t until Choso started fucking you slowly that you were losing yourself. He wanted to give you some time to adjust, but you were just so damn sexy, pretty face with an even prettier-

“More, please.”

He was hearing things, for sure. There was no way you were begging him to fuck you, but he fuckin’ liked it.

“More what? Tell me.”

“Fuck me, Choso.”

He didn’t have time to tease you anymore; his dick was aching so bad it could shatter. So, he gave you exactly what you wanted. At first, he kept a steady pace, gripping the sides of your pillow as his hips made you arch your back into him, but fuck, he needed wanted more. 

“I’m gonna fuck you a little faster now, that okay?”

“Yes, baby, just give it to me.”

Jesus, you were just trying to drive him insane. That pretty voice of yours calling him baby, he was already grateful you agreed to go on that date with him, but he didn’t expect this to happen (he was hoping he’d fuck you after the second or third date). He sat back on his legs as he lifted your hips to take him deeper, making you repeatedly groan his name. But, nothing could prepare you for how he began fucking you, fast and deep; he fucked you like he needed you, like he fuckin’ craved you. He couldn’t keep your name out of his mouth when he felt your pussy pulling him back in again every time he fell back to fuck you deeper. He started daydreaming about you a bit, what your next date would be like, seeing you every day, walking you to class, and then fucking you after you two completed classwork. The sound of your juices spilling out of your pussy onto his dick snapped him out of it, relishing in the sounds of your wetness and the claps of your ass every time he brought your body onto his. You felt so damn good, bringing your fingers up to touch his chest as he looked you in the eyes. And every time you looked away, he brought a hand up to put your eyes back on his. Because he needed to see how his dick made you feel and show you how good your pussy was taking it. 

“I gotta cum baby, need you to cum for me first.”

He pulled out, laying down to eat your pussy again, rutting his dick into his sheets. And when he made you cum for the second time, he slipped back inside, feeling your pussy pulsing with the waves of your orgasm. He came to the sounds of you squealing his name, your pussy milking him for all he’s worth.

My heart, it can't rest 'til then.

That was the best sex the two of you had ever had. It left you both panting, backs on the bed, mind hazy. Choso looked over at you, watching your tits rise and fall with every breath you took; he had to look away before he fucked you again, not that he wouldn’t mind. You looked up at him with those pretty doe eyes, and he swore he would melt. He brought you up to him, kissing you softly as he pulled a blanket over the two of you. You laid your head on his chest, following with his arm wrapping around your back and waist.

“So, wanna go on another date?”

Oh, I can't wait to see you again.

♱ the song used in this story is see you again (rock mafia remix) by miley cyrus. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

[heeliopheelia]

"just hold me" (jay x reader)

genre: fluff word count: 0.6k requested by nonnie ♡

a/n: hello, it's your very much sleep deprived crazy writer again :)) i planned on posting a shorter drabble tonight but i think i'm literally just unable to write anything under 0.5k... i'll try the next time tho!! hope you guys like this one, i kinda love but hate it at the same time <33

masterlist

"Jay," you whine, trying to wiggle out of his grip weakly. "Get off. It's too hot."

"I don't care, I'm cold," he scoffs as he pulls you closer, arms tightly wrapped around your waist.

As much as you love cuddling your boyfriend and it's a rare occasion that he actually wants it more than you do, the stuffiness in your bedroom is already enough to prevent you from laying comfortably. And with Jay's body heat added to that? Au revoir good night's sleep.

"Then put your goddamn shirt on," you grumble, finally succeeding at prying his hand away from you.

Jay huffs, pressing his lips to the back of your ear. "I would but you're the one wearing it now."

A smile creeps upon your lips and you press them together to contain your laughter somehow. The black fabric of his favorite t-shirt is indeed snugly wrapped around your body. You're glad your back is turned to your boyfriend's face as you know that the second he would've noticed your smile, you wouldn't be standing a chance against him anymore and you'd have to surrender yourself to a whole night of the sweet suffocation.

When you feel his hand sneaking around your waist again, you're quick to slap it away, covering up your laugh with a loud cough.

"You're mean," he pouts which is so out of character for him and only makes the urge to laugh and give in harder for you.

So instead you wave your hand at him dismissively. "Go to sleep, you big baby."

You listen to his steady breathing for long enough to determine that he's most likely already asleep, slowly, you wiggle yourself backwards until your back meets his toned chest.

And you can hear his incoherent mumbling of fine's and whatever's underneath his nose before the blissful silence comes upon you two at last. You sigh from tiredness, feeling the burden of entire day weighting down on your eyelids with each minute.

There's one thing missing though – one significant detail that fends off your very needed sleep no matter how hard you try to put this feeling to an end. And then after two more minutes of trying, you give up with a sigh, well aware that there are no real chances of you actually falling asleep tonight without feeling Jay's arms around your body.

"Well, would you look at that? Knew you'd come crawling back," he teases only one second later and you close your eyes, realizing you've just been caught acting up against your own pride. "Just can't get enough of me, can you?"

"Shut up," you mumble, pushing your body even more into his chest, ignoring his snickering. "Just hold me, please?"

Jay huffs out a laughter and you can just hear the teasing smile that spreads on his pretty lips. "You're always so cute when you're sleepy. As you wish, my baby."

Without needing to prompt him any further, his arms wrap around you in an instant, his body heat engulfing you pleasantly. You're too tired to pay any mind to being too hot, and you just sigh out of content, snuggling even closer to him. His fingers slip underneath the hem of his your t-shirt and he caresses your skin with his calloused thumbs soothingly. Now, with your boyfriend's lips on your neck and his slow breathing matching its pace with yours, you allow the tiredness to take over and you finally fall asleep, tightly tucked in Jay's arms.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk

[dotster001]

For Tuna; Rook End

A/N: editing this is gonna suck, cause Tumblr is so glitchy today 😭 but as I'm sure no one is surprised...some of you have been waiting a long time for this specific ending, so I figured he deserved his own title . The next ending is a three way tie, so keep an eye out for a poll in the next couple days.

Chapters One Two Three Choose another End

“Rook Hunt, you have been chosen-”

“At last! The moment has come!”

Grim was immediately second guessing his decision. Y/N had told him all about how Rook's family had multiple villas, so he'd thought he'd be willing to put up with him the one day a year he'd have to. But the man was far too excited.

“Wonderful,” Grim said through gritted teeth. “So what we'll do is, tomorrow-”

“You're adorable, Monsieur Fuzzball. No need for that though!”

“Huh?”

“I don't need you. Au revoir!”

Rook practically skipped out of the room, singing a cheery tune to himself.

….

Grim was terrified. All day he'd been waiting for whatever Rook had planned. He'd stuck to your side all day, quivering in anxiety.

“Okay, Grim, what's wrong?” You asked, finally tired of ignoring it for the sake of his pride.

“N- nothing is wrong, human! You insult me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered. 

You closed the book you'd been reading during the break in the lesson, and turned to him.

“Okay, so what's not wrong, then?”

Grim mumbled under his breath. But you soon forgot all about it, as the lights in the classroom dimmed, followed by a shower of rose petals raining down on all of you.

“Who is responsible?” Trein bellowed, but he was soon forgotten as well, as Rook appeared at the front under a single spotlight, violin music playing to his entrance.

“Bon jour!”

“What the fuck?” You whispered, quickly realizing that Grim was no longer by your side. He must have taken the opportunity to flee classes. Little rat.

“I am here because I can no longer keep silent about my affections!” He pressed one hand to his heart, the other dramatically extending to the classroom. “I am deeply in love.”

You looked to see if Trein would stop him, but just watched him sigh. Even the teacher knew to just let Rook be Rook. 

“Mon Trickster! My heart beats so hard for you, it is apt to burst into a bloody mess of my adoration.”

There was now a second spotlight on you. You looked around to see where it was coming from, only to find there was no source of it.

A gust of wind picked up around Rook, making the rose petals that had fallen to the floor pick up, and swirl around him.

“Mon Tresor, say that you will allow me to forever kneel at your feet. Say that you will allow me to sing your adoration until my vocal cords tear. Say that I can write you poetry until my fingers fall off. Say-”

“God, Rook! I'd rather have you in one piece,” you cut him off with a laugh.

He stood upright with a light smile, swirling a finger in the air to turn the rose petals into a single rose. He gently kissed it, then tossed it to you across the classroom. You caught it, sniffing it and letting the aroma wash over you.

By the time you looked back up, he was standing right in front of you. You blinked, looking at the spot he was standing, then back at where he stood now. He smiled as though he was unperturbed by your confusion.

“If I stay in one piece, will you pledge your soul to me?” He asked sweetly.

“My soul? Not my heart?”

“For Seven’s sake, tell the boy whether you love him or not, so I can move on with the class,” Trein snapped.

“Okay! Rook, I like you too!” You said quickly.

“How exciting!” He snapped his fingers, and you heard the beginning of an orchestral intro. 

Rook inhaled heavily, and began to sing.

“Goodness, class dismissed!” Trein shouted over the aria, which was not going to stop anytime soon. You gave Trein a pleading look. While you liked Rook, and were totally happy to start seeing him, this song sounded like it would go on for a while. Trein gave you an apologetic look as he shut the door of the classroom, locking it behind him.

....

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[getinthecar-elizabeth]

Title: First training

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x wife!reader

Summary: Kylian's first day at training in Madrid.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Kylian had his first training today at Real Madrid. I woke up with him in the morning and brushed my teeth. While he was in the shower I prepared him a healthy breakfast to get his day started. I had gotten in contact with the Real Madrid dietician to make sure I prepared him the right meals.

As I was finishing up, Kylian came downstairs dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt. He came up behind me and put his arms around me. He put his chin on my shoulder and kissed my cheek.

"Morning, amour," he said.

A smile spread on my face and I turned around to face him. I cupped his cheeks, pulled him to me and pecked his lips.

"Bon matin, mon mari," I smiled. I locked my fingers behind his neck. "Are you excited for today?" I asked him.

"Oui," he smiled. "It's finally happening."

"I know, bébé. I've prepared breakfast so you can eat before you leave," I gestured to the food behind me.

"I could smell it all the way from upstairs," he said as he looked at the food with a glint in his eyes. "What did I do to deserve such an amazing woman?" He looked at me with adoration.

"Because you're an amazing man yourself," I pecked his lips once more. "Now let's get you fed so you can go. I don't want you to be late on your first day. I don't want coach Ancelotti on my case."

Kylian chuckled and backed up from me. We took our seats at the kitchen island and ate breakfast together. When we finished, I cleaned up as Kylian went to grab his bag from the bedroom.

His phone that was on the island pinged with an alert. I checked it to find a message from his driver that he was outside.

Kylian bounded down the stairs, his bag in hand.

"Mon amour, your driver is here," I said to him.

"Oh, très bien," he grabbed his phone and came up to kiss me. "I will see you when I come back, non?" He raised his eyebrows.

"I'll be right here," I kissed him again.

"Je t'aime," he said as his forehead remained on mine.

"Je t'aime," I responded.

Kylian kissed my forehead and walked away. "Au revoir, chérie!" he yelled as he opened the front door.

"Bye KyKy!" I yelled back.

I heard the front door shut and I was alone in the house with a proud smile on my face. I washed the dishes and then checked what I was going to make for dinner tonight.

***

I decided to make Kylian's favourite dish to celebrate his first day. He would be back any minute now and I was almost done cooking dinner. I had seen the training pictures and videos and it looked quite intense.

"Chérie!" I heard him call as he got in the front door.

I ran from the kitchen to where his voice was coming from. He smiled as soon he spotted me. He dropped his bag on the floor just as I jumped into his arms. He caught me by my thighs and my legs wrapped around his waist. My arms secured around his neck.

I quickly planted my lips on his, "hi," I grinned.

"Hi," he chuckled. "How was your day?"

"Good. You?" I asked excitedly.

Kylian let out a puff of air, "intense, chérie," he said.

I unwrapped my legs from his waist and he put me down while his hands remained on my waist.

"I figured. I saw the pictures and videos." I rubbed his shoulders. "You want me to run you a bath before we have dinner?" I asked.

"Non, merci chérie. I'll have a quick shower then come down for dinner," he grabbed his bag from the floor.

"Okay. Is there anything you need to be washed?" I gestured to the bag.

"Just my training kit," he said.

"Okay. Leave it in the basket in the bathroom.

"Okay," he kissed my cheek then I moved aside to make way for him.

I prepared the dinner table, and when Kylian came down 20 minutes later, I was done. He was dressed in a grey T-shirt and basketball shorts. His toned arms and legs were on display and I couldn't help but stare.

"Like what you see?" He smirked as he stood in front of me.

"I do," I boldly replied. "You look hot babe," I ran my hand down his arm.

He just smiled at me, speechless.

"I made your favourite," I said gesturing to the dinner table.

"Ahh, chérie. Do you know how much I love you? You are the best." He gently grabbed my cheeks and kissed me.

We sat down and ate. Kylian told me about his day. He was getting along with his new teammates, which was expected. The training was hard but I knew he was not afraid of a challenge. This was his dream and I knew that he was going to become the best version of himself yet at Real Madrid.

After dinner, Kylian helped me clean up and load the dishwasher, then we went to bed. I asked Kylian to take off his clothes and lay down on the bed.

"Chérie," he smirked as he took off his clothes leaving him in his underwear.

"Kylian, we're not having sex," I giggled as I asked him to lay down on his stomach.

"Then what are we doing?" His voice came out slightly muffled by the pillow.

"You'll see," I said.

I went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel and some almond oil. I went back to the bed and placed the towel next to Kylian. I straddled the back of his thighs.

"Chérie," Kylian drawled as he grabbed my thigh and squeezed it.

"Kylian, stop," I giggled and smacked his hand. "Just relax," I said.

I poured almond oil on my hands and rubbed them together. I then spread the oil all over Kylian's neck, shoulders, back and arms. Then I started massaging him.

"Hmmm," I heard him hum. I could feel him relax and his body melts into the bed. "Chérie, you are God sent."

"Hush, mon amour. Just relax and let me take care of you," I spoke softly.

I massaged his back and legs. I hoped his muscles would be relaxed for tomorrow. By the time I finished, Kylian was fast asleep. I wiped my hands and his back and legs using the towel then threw it in the washing basket. I put the almond oil away and then switched off the bathroom lights. I got into bed and pulled the covers over us. I settled next to Kylian and closed my eyes.

Before I drifted off, I felt Kylian put his arm around me and pull me closer. He threw his leg over mine and kissed the back of my head. Then sleep quickly came over me.

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[twola]

Okay, I was ABSOLUTELY obsessed with In The French Way II. It's too hot I need another Arthur anal fic😔✌ PLEASE I love the way you write ❤

In the French Way III

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link ➵ Previous

cw: in the natural progression of things - anal sex, cowboy receiving.

“Ma Cherie - now that you have given him a taste, you must- you must give him more.”

The Frenchman’s hand clasps your shoulder as he pulls you closer to the alley. You have no idea why now of all times was the time to discuss your sexual proclivities. Now, when Arthur was currently beating a man a few feet away who had threatened Châtenay’s life for sleeping with his wife, or mother…or both?

“Not now-” You whisper harshly, as the conversation is interspersed with the sound of Arthur’s fist connecting with the man’s face. 

“Non- if not now, when? I will tell you - there is no more beautiful pleasure than -mph- getting fucked. In that, I am jealous of le beau sexe.” Châtenay swirls a finger around the edge of his mustache as he swings the leather bag from over his shoulder to the ground. He roots around in the bag, muttering choice words in French before finding what he was looking for.

“Ah-ha, here we are.”

He shoves a small box into your hand with a wink. You open the box, finding a neatly wrapped piece of wood, smooth and polished to perfection. It’s strange, this cylinder of smooth lacquered wood, tipped with a gentle curve…almost… phallic?

Oh Jesus Christ.

You snap the box shut again as your eyes widen. 

“What in God’s name-”

Châtenay shakes his head. “Non, non, mon ami. You have seen the joy you have already brought your lover. This will heighten it still.”

“Charles-!” Arthur barks from the alley, having dispatched the most recent of the man’s attackers, “Think you should be gettin’ lost for a bit.” The cowboy wipes blood from his knuckles as he rejoins the two of you.

“Ah! That I shall do. Au revoir!” Charles grasps your shoulders and gives you a kiss on each cheek, and moving faster than even Arthur could comprehend, he does the same to the gunslinger before exaggeratingly bowing, before ducking out of sight.

Arthur frowns and wipes his beard, “There is somethin’ wrong with that man.”

You nod, shoving the small box into your satchel. Arthur snickers, and grabs your hand, “C’mon, I don’t feel like riding all the way back to Shady Belle t’night.”

-

“Woman, I know you got somethin’ on your mind.”

You frown, knowing you can’t hide anything from him. In this fancy hotel room, you have kicked off your boots and he’s unwound the gunbelt from his hips.

Arthur looks you up and down, raising an eyebrow. “So?”

You sigh, and pull the box that Charles gave you from your satchel before you toss the bag to the floor amongst the other things. Placing the box atop the bedspread, you take the lid off of it to show its contents.

Silence.

“Is that supposed to be a cock?” Arthur asks after a moment.

You also look down at the box, unwilling to meet his astonished gaze, burning fiercely red. 

“I…uhm, ah… it’s a-another French thing…” you stutter, unable to look at him.

Your chin is pulled up by his pointer finger, and you finally find his eyes, those blue pools that show such depth.

“I trust you.”

“Arthur-”

“I- I just- ” You stumble over your words as you turn and take the wood in your hand, heavy, solid. You wrap your fingers around it and all you can think about is how warm Arthur’s cock is when you have it in your hand.

“If it’s somethin’ I end up hatin’, we stop.”

What utter trust this man has in you. You’re unsure of how on God’s green earth that you managed to find someone like him. “You sure you want to be…fucked?”

Arthur sheepishly scratches the back of his head, “I… mean… if it’s you doin’ it.”

“I…” You grip the cock again, staring down at it.

The rustling of fabric garners your attention and you look up. Arthur has completely unbuttoned his shirt and has one arm pulled out of its sleeve. His suspenders dangle against his thighs.

“Well?” 

And in that moment, you remember the last time you had broached this idea with him. You remember his stained cheeks and blown pupils, his heavy panting and the moans… you remember the hot splash of his spend on your belly as he came - all from pressing your finger inside him.

For the first time all night, you smile back, and toss the cock to the bed as you start to undress yourself. Clothes end in a pile on the floor. Arthur grabs the balm he used last time from his satchel and hands it to you before laying down on the bed.

“Warm you up like last time?” You smile as you place the tin on the bedside table along with the wooden cock, climbing into bed and into your lover’s embrace.

He nods, pressing his lips to yours as he guides your hand to his hip. As your tongues press against one another, your hand slides across his hip, gently caressing before dipping down to press against his puckered opening. You gently slide your pointer finger inside that ring of muscle and he shivers, moaning into your mouth. Unwilling to have it over so soon, you do not press further inside to hunt for the spot that drove him wild before, but instead swirl your finger around to prepare him for something more. After a few moments of him groaning and you feeling him harden against your hip, you draw back and turn around, reaching for the balm and the wooden cock.

You open the tin and swipe your fingers to collect the balm, then slather it all over the head of the cock and down the shaft, glancing backward as you notice Arthur turning to lay on his stomach. 

You turn to sit next to him, holding the cock in one hand and the other gently caressing his lower back, “You sure you’re ready?”

“Woman, do it now or don’t-”

He shuts up completely as you press the cock against his ass. The tip breaches him and he hisses as the curve of the wood pushes past the ring of muscle. You press it inward slowly, letting a breath out of your own.

“You alright’?” You whisper, your other hand rubbing gently across his hip bone.

He nods into the pillow, and you see his fingers tighten on the fabric of the bed as you push the cock in another inch. Arthur is beautiful there, sprawled on the bed. Breath heaving, his large, muscled body completely under your spell. Under your control. He gave this of himself, something that men never do.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly again, the wooden cock halfway buried in him. He nods into the pillow, seemingly unable to speak, but raises his hips toward you the smallest bit in silent assent.

Around that curve of his hip, the smallest visage of his cock is visible to you, blood swollen and hard against the bed. Your concern is assuaged - certainly, if he wasn’t enjoying it, his cock wouldn’t be so damn hard.

Your other hand runs gently up his back to his shoulder, squeezing as you lean up on your knees next to him. Ever so slowly, gently, you press the cock down into him. Arthur groans, muffled by the pillow as the sheets are crumpled beneath his grip.

Finally, the flared base rests snug against his ass. you gaze upon him, breath heaving, and he starts to rut his hips against the mattress, trying to find some relief for his cock. The sight has your cunt wet as you sit on the bed next to him. Arthur raises his head to look up at you, breathing heavily through his nose. A fierce blush dances over his cheeks as he grunts, pushing himself up to his hands and knees.

“Get o’er here.”

He grabs and forces you underneath him and pulls your legs apart with a fervor like a wild animal. In the flash of movement, you are instantly reminded of the strength held within his body - there was no escaping his grasp - no fighting against any way he were to manipulate you.

“Fuck- next time ‘m gonna stick this in you - make you feel how good it is -” he growls as he roughly pumps his cock, panting as he lines himself up with you and pushes inside with little warning.

Your arousal eases the way, but your lover is well-endowed, and you gasp at the stretch of him as he buries those hot inches of flesh inside you. A broken wail claws its way from your throat when his hips find yours, buried as deep as he can go.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Havin’ this in you along with my cock, filling you up both ways at once?”

You moan your response as he thrusts down into you hard, digging your nails into his back. Your ankles cross over his lower back as he pummels you into the bed, red-faced and positively feral.

At a thrust that moves your whole body, your heel slips downward and bumps against the base of the wooden cock, and Arthur immediately jolts, grunting loudly as he shoves his head into the pillow.

“You -hah- like that?” You pant into his ear and he groans needily in response.

Snaking your hand underneath his arm, you’re just able to reach the base and grasp it, pulling the cock out a few inches before pushing it back in.

Arthur nearly collapses on you, barely able to keep himself from crushing you as he shoves his cock as deep as it can go into your cunt, shuddering as you repeat your motion.

“Fuck, fuck - oh - ngh - Jesus…” His teeth worry your ear when you pick up the pace, pushing and pulling the wooden cock in his ass.

“You gonna come for me?” You pant back at him and he raises himself unsteadily to his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, yeah - ‘m gonna come -” he rumbles, his pupils blown and skin flushed red, “g-onna gonna -ngh-”

You lean up and kiss him hard as you shove the cock into his ass to the base and he yelps into your mouth and mashes his hips into yours as he comes. Hot spend fills your cunt as you mewl to the sensation, throwing you over the edge as Arthur bucks again, making a pitiful sound you thought nigh impossible from the fearsome outlaw.

It's several moments, Arthur panting, shaking over you, before he’s able to regain control of his senses. He rolls off of you onto his side, one hand reaching behind himself to slowly pull the cock from his body. He squeezes his eyes shut and hisses as it slowly leaves him, biting his lower lip against the feeling of his hole having been stretched out. He tosses the lacquered wood into the pile of clothes on the floor, it lands with a loud clunk.

You gawk, astonished at him as you feel his warm spend drip from your cunt. Squeezing your legs together to stymie the flow, you wait for him to right himself, laying on his hip opposite you in the bed.

He finally opens his eyes to find you looking concerned, upset even.

“What - what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Are you alright?”

“Am I… darlin’-” he chuckles, reaching toward you and easily pulling your body into his embrace, “I’m more than alright.” He laughs, kissing your forehead as you loose a bated breath.

“That another French thing Châtenay tell you about?”

You look up at him in surprise, “What, how -”

“You think he hasn’t told me of a few crazy things either? Keeps sayin’ that the best thin’ for you is takin’ two fellers at once.”

You redden, burying yourself into Arthur’s chest to avoid making eye contact. You feel, along with hear the chuckle emanate out from his ribcage as he tightens his grip around you.

“I’m a possessive sonofabitch. You ain’t ever takin any feller but me-”

He squeezes your ass covetously.

“But think we just found a way to remedy that.”

[romanshomeonwattpad]

pairings — draco/reader | captive au! | “_ _ = Y/N |

word count: 6k 😯

sypnosis: you were a captive in the war, captured by one of the most vicious death eaters. his wife goes on a trip, unable to comfort him as he fails another mission. when he gets drunk..and pays a visit to your room…things take a drastic turn.

warnings: dirty smut at the end, angst, cheating, infidelity, mostly proof read, fingering, oral

authors note: this is based on my fanfic on wattpad, but it’s wayyyyy darker on there so if u f with this or want a part two check out my book cuz i only do one-shots on here whoops. but if lots of ppl want a part 2 then mayb cuz i love this plot. its called dissonant if ur interested ! okok enjoy byee

© elliotsblunt 2022. do not repost, modify, or translate.

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You tapped your nails against the cool chains tightened around your neck—the end being attached to the corner part of the wall. A yawn tore from your lips, arching your back as you sat up from the sheet less mattress. There had been only one blanket, which you used to cover yourself due to it being the freezing temps of winter. A long peasant white gown was your attire on the daily, hair shielded away from your features in a high ponytail.

Being a captive in the Malfoy household hadn’t been as horrible as it sounded. You kept to yourself, always in the room, only reason being here because you were forced to prove Astoria Greengrass company.

She was kind, yes. But she had a horrible spending problem, if you recall correctly from the married couple’s arguments. His voice would boom throughout the manor, but she would just shush him and go on with her night. And on top of that, the only thing she would talk about is herself and her accomplishments. No one could stand her. Which is why you had to be her friend, by force.

As you combed your hair with one Astoria had given you, one of her old ones, you hummed to yourself. It had been purple with white gems glued onto the handle. Placing it onto the wooden desk inside your room, you flinched as a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” you muttered quietly.

Astoria stepped inside with her glossy red heels. A red dress, with puffed short sleeves—wrapped around her thin waist. A red lipstick painted smile curved onto her lips, “Hello, dear,” she sighed, the scent of perfume filling the area. Her large blue eyes flickered to you, “I shall be leaving for a a few days. It’s fashion week in Paris,” she explained, an excited tone laced in her voice.

You faked shock. You could care less. You had to be stuck here, anyways. Away from your family.

“Wow, that’s amazing!” You decided to sweeten it up a bit, grabbing her hands and sending her a tight smile. “Do tell me allll about it when you come back.”

“Of course, dear.” Astoria’s eyes flashed with approval. Pulling her hands away from yours, you spotted her wiping her palms onto her dress whilst nervously laughing. Irritation rumbled in your chest, your smile twitching but staying on your face, “Now—don’t miss me too much. And try to do something with that hair of yours, darling. You’re a woman, embrace it!”

You held back an eye roll as she clapped her hands, “Very well! Au revoir, Janet!”

Janet. The name that she had given you. You didn’t realize how shallow she had been until now. Her hips swayed as the door shut behind her, leaving you alone once again. Her perfume lingered, causing your nose to wrinkle. She treated you like a peasant, not even asking what your real name had been. She didn’t even care.

She probably thought she was better than you. Just because of her high status and designer handbags. And with those snobby remarks of here, how could anyone stand her?

Rain pattered against the window of your room. It was fairly large, your mattress lodged in the corner. A green window pane was used as one of the walls—leaving a refreshing outlook to the room. You sat against it now, hand pressed against the cool glass as you counted the droplets.

The lock clicked to unlock your door. You snapped your head to see someone walking inside. Well,

…falling more like.

The drunken man, who reeked of alcohol, happened to be Draco Malfoy. Your captor. The Mind Reaper.

He infiltrated people’s minds, using their fears to kill and torture them. It was absolutely cruel, but it also meant he had been a very gifted Legilimens. You had never seen his face before, though. Always covered by a red skull mask, unlike now. He hadn’t been covered in blood, and looked the complete opposite of threatening.

His blonde strands fell over his eyes. Red rings around his eyes, his sharp features almost making him look unreal. A black t-shirt tightened around his bulging biceps, probably twice the size of yours. His muscular thighs were hidden by a pair of black jeans, a silver chain glinting beneath the faint torch light.

“Fuck,” he growled, accidentally ripping the door handle off as he used it for leverage to get back onto his feet. You gasped as he tossed it behind him, into the hallway. Narrowing those stormy, baby blue eyes at you. “Well, well, well. Why do I keep a pretty little thing like you locked away in here?”

You gulped. Didn’t he have a wife? Had they fought again? But from the look in his eyes, he wasn’t even thinking about her, studying your figure. He had only interacted with you once, when he had captured you. But he had a mask on, and was also sober. Every since that day, Draco stayed clear from you.

But he now had barged into your room, telling you he wanted you. This mysterious man with protruding muscles and a sadistic smirk had kidnapped you. It turned you on, for some reason. It was shameless. Out of the months you’ve been here, you finally felt excitement. Even if he had been a mass murderer.

But he was a horrible person. You couldn’t betray your moral ground. He had killed thousands of The Order members.

“Would you fancy a drink?” Draco raised a brow, stepping closer to you. Slowly approaching. You licked your lips as your chest rose, “Scratch that. You’re my property—and I order you to have a drink.”

The tension doubled, room shifting to a different energy. It felt like he had been a predator, waving his hand to hold another bottle of whatever he had been drinking. Fire Whiskey printer on the bottle in golden letters. He handed it to you, “Go on.”

Your eyes flew to the bottle, then flickered back to the man before you. His smirk had been sadistic, yet so alluring. His eyes looked expectant.

“I—“

“Go. On.”

He repeated, his smirk fading. Being replaced by a firm look, piercing eyes boring into yours. “If you hate my bitch of a wife as much as I do, you’ll drink with me.”

Without a second thought, your hand shot out and grabbed the bottle. Draco watched with glinting eyes. Whipping your head back, you let the acidic tasting liquid slide down your throat without ease. Coughs followed after.

You heard clapping. “Good girl!”

The praise made your thighs clench. A severe wave of heat sparked into you lower area, keeping your distance between the both of you. “One more for me.”

You wanted to protest. But the way his teeth sunk into his plump bottom lip, with lit up eyes, slightly hooded with something unknown swirling in them. Your chest felt like it had dived off a thirty story building with the look he was currently giving you.

Clearing you throat, you nodded, before taking another swig. This time you kept coughing, Draco taking the drink from you as the alcohol left a sour trail down your throat. Deep, guttural chuckles rumbled from his chest.

“You obey me so well,” he muttered, running a large hand through his strands. “Rather have married you than that cunt. A blood traitor is more tolerable than a pitiful existence like her.”

You didn’t say anything, staring at him with wide eyes. He sloshed around the alcohol in his hand before bringing it back to his lips. His sharp jawline became your view, the sight of him pouring the alcohol down his throat without flinching and then back to smirking at you making you even more turned on. You had never seen someone so..manly.

Perhaps you could seduce him. To convince him to let you leave. It appeared he was extremely keen with you, a hungry look in his eyes. You needed to get back to your family, wondering if they had even been alive. The thought haunted you.

It had only been your father and sister. Your entire life. And you never fought, you weren’t much of a fighter in the war. But your sister was, and when she got injured out on the field—you ran from the bunker underground to help her. Unfortunately, by the time you had gotten to her, a Death Eater got a hold of you. You shouted for her to run, which is what she did.

She ran.

And left you.

You both knew you couldn’t leave your father alone for himself. It was a mutual agreement in the matter of seconds.

Besides, your sister was far more valuable than you. It was for the best. You risked your life for your family, and you would’ve done it again. And again.

“How do you stand her?” Draco questioned, setting the bottle down onto the desk. His fingers swept across the furnace as he titled his head towards you, knitting his brows. “You must be a sweet little thing, huh?”

“I’m not sure if this is appropriate. Madam isn’t here,” you finally spoke up, your words hypocritical to how you actually felt. You couldn’t possibly be a home wrecker. “I think it’d be best—“

Feeling a strong hand grab your throat, all in one moment, you cried out as your back slammed against the wall. Cool, silver fingers that shined under the moonlight melted against your flesh. With bulged eyes, you breathing stuttered as Draco chuckled darkly. His scent of faint cologne and musk wafted up your nostrils.

“You’re so loyal to her. How cute. If only you knew how horrid she speaks of you.”

You blinked at him. “What…kind of things?”

Your voice had came out quiet. Small. Considering his bulky hand was still wrapped around your throat, barely squeezing. His eyes flashed to your lips before meeting yours.

A wolfish smirk crossed his features, “How you’re a no good mute—and she feels sorry for how ugly and poor you appear. She believes her presence gets infected with yours, so she even showers then meditates after your meetings. One time, she even asked me to fetch a new girl to forcefully befriend her. And when I told her you’d most likely be killed…”

His smirk grew.

“..she told me that you could meet her in hell.”

Your jaw clenched at his words.

That…bitch!

You had been nothing but kind to her, and she talks shit to her husband about you? How could anyone tolerate this woman?

An unhealthy amount of rage consumed through you. Your eyes only saw red. You didn’t think she liked you that much, but to talk so crudely about you and not even blink an eye if death was thrown your way. When she had the power to save your life. It made you feel used—pathetic.

Your body slightly shook. The alcohol began to warm your body, a slight buzz growing in the center of your brain. Your vision became more glossy and bright, a pulsing in your lower abdomen growing as Draco looked down at you.

He must’ve been six foot something, your shoulders reaching his abdomen. Slightly hunching so he can be eye level with you, he faked worry, “Oh? You don’t like her very much anymore do you?”

The feeling was growing. Lips inches away from yours, hot breath fanning your face. His throat fell to your cheek.

“You smell divine.”

“That’s not the topic of discussion.”

“But it’s still a topic I’d like to delve into,” he murmered, leaning in to whisper into your ear. Shivers ran down your spine as his smooth voice filled your senses, “Tell me, _ _, are you as innocent as you seem?”

He knew your name.

And his question, it made you tingle.

“How—“ You breathed,

“How do you know my name?”

Another chuckle blessed your ears. Your anger had flooded away, feeling sensitive everywhere. Goosebumps covered your neck as a pair of soft lips gently pecked the side of it. Shutting your eyes, a soft moan played in the room.

His fingers dove back behind your neck, pushing you against him. Draco’s hips dug into yours, a hard bulge rubbing against your core. It caused another moan to slip as he soothed the ache between your legs. Teeth sinking into your skin, your hand flew to his shoulder for support, “Oh!”

And then his lips trailed up your neck, using his other hand to grab your ass. He smacked it before pushing you onto him, being able to feel his chiseled body under his clothes. So much adrenaline. Like if you had pulled away from him, you would get burned.

And you didn’t want to get burned.

Your legs opened for him as he lifted you, your back against the wall once again as he held you in his arms. Your arms wrapped around his neck, grinding against him with whimpers and cries being muffled against his relentless lips as he slammed his against yours.

A hint taste of cigarettes and alcohol was what you tasted. His warm tongue swiped across your bottom lip, before taking a nip. He growled at as you cried out, pulling his strands. He sucked gently on the sore area before shoving his tongue inside.

“Been wanting to do this since I first saw you. That’s why I took you,” he groaned against you. A sharp thrust against your core, his cock deliciously rubbing against you, made your eyes roll back. “You were always going to be mine. Ever since I saw you on that battlefield, _ _. I just had to have you.”

His words should’ve disgusted you. Repulsed you. But they didn’t, they made the wetness grow between your thighs inside your gown. But it did slap you back to reality.

He was married.

And this was wrong.

You couldn’t.

“Stop,” you breathed, opening your eyes. Draco pulled away, narrowing his eyes. Your hands flew to his chest, pushing him away. Your feet landed on the floor as the man furrowed his brows, “I’m sorry. I just—I can’t do this. You’re drunk—“

He stepped away. Without a word. You watched as he swallowed thickly, letting out a sigh before glancing at the window.

“Forgive me. This was a mistake,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t look at you, a stoic expression crossing his features as he cleared his throat and walked out the door. It didn’t close properly, a door knob missing, but you were sure Draco knew you weren’t planning on leaving your room.

Well, that was quick. You were almost bummed he gave up so quickly.

Astoria had been gone for a few days now. You staid in your room, so no, you hadn’t seen Draco either.

You weren’t sure when she was coming back, but whatever had happened between Draco and you must have been a one time thing—because he never came to your room again. The door had been unlocked, the knob never being fixed. Which confused you, because if Draco wanted to he would’ve.

And so, after four days, you decided to explore.

Stepping out horrified you. After being here a few months, you never managed to step outside. There had always been a lock. But now, you were free to do what you pleased. You couldn’t escape, unfortunately, due to their being wards and charms casted around the house.

But exploring was better than nothing.

You were tired of sitting in your room.

And so you wandered. A long black hall, filled with paintings of all sorts. One room was lit at the end, a light illuminating the open door. It smelled of burning wood, realizing a fire place must’ve been left on. It smelled wonderful. Holding up the ends to your white peasant gown, with peering eyes, you carefully made your way to the light.

As you reached closer, your hands slid on the walls. A smooth, non-rough paint was applied on them, a black color. It made the manor look much more creepy at night.

Tilting your head, you craned your neck to peek past the doorframe.

And that’s when you almost gasped.

Covering your other hand on your mouth, your eyes continued to watch as Draco Malfoy pleasured himself on his office chair. As you presumed, a fireplace was in the center wall. A bottle of Fire Whiskey, the one you drank from, was on the desk along with a laptop.

Glasses rested on the desk, discarded and forgotten whilst his large hand tugged at his pink cock. The tip was flushed, blonde patches of curls at the bottom. It looked delicious as pre-cum dribbled out the thick head, peeking out his hand everytime his wrist flicked.

You licked your lips, knowing you were going to touch yourself later to this. Draco’s head had been thrown back, low deep moans passing those parted, plump lips of his. You craved them against your mouth again.

This had been wrong, but you didn’t care. Not at this moment.

And then his moans began to quicken. A white button up with his sleeves rolled up halfway, was now half way unbuttoned as his strands once again fell over his eyes. You noticed his abs, glistened in sweat, begin to clench as he neared his high.

“Fuck, _ _.”

Your name fell from his lips. You couldn’t believe your eyes, cheeks turning pink like his cock as he began to come. White ribbons shot from his head as he tossed his head back, showing off his adams apple. Your core had been drenched at this point, a sticky mixture of your juices moistening your inner thighs.

You wanted to go in there and lick the cum off his tip, hopping onto his cock and making him cum again. His large, strong hands gripping your ass as he guided you with praises in your ear. Thick fingers wrapped around your throat, making you—

“_ _?”

Your eyes snapped open, locking eyes with Draco. He had a small smirk playing on his lips, cum still on his stomach, as you jumped in your spot.

“I’m so—sorry!”

Blurting out the words, you spun around and retreated back to your room. You were never exploring again.

You had been absolutely morrified.

Not only had you walked in on Draco touching himself, you had also touched yourself afterwards. Later that night you shook on your fingers, wishing they were his—guilt consuming your chest. The sight of his cum spurting from the tip, head thrown back as groans left his throat burned your brain.

Another few days had rolled by. Not a knock at the door, until Astoria had returned. You had to remain on good graces with her, otherwise she could have you possibly killed. Just like Draco had mentioned. She held the authority.

So when she came into your room, knocking of course..you began to panic. You didn’t know how to face her, when a couple nights prior you had shamelessly kissed her husband. In this very room. Drunken and sloppy. But it had also been the best kiss you ever had, without a doubt. You could taste his scent on your lips, hands squeezing your as—

“Janet!” She called, “I hope you’re decent. I’m coming in,” she didn’t wait for you to reply. You were standing in front of the door, with wide eyes, and a tight lipped smile. Your cheeks felt like they had been on fire. Astoria’s brows rose, “Darling! How much did you miss me?”

You held back bile. You wanted to slap that smile off her boney features, “Very much so.”

She giggled, clapping her hands. “It was amazing, dear. The flight was a bit long, and I was absolutely fami—“

You zoned out at her words as she began to provide details of her trip you couldn’t care less about. Keeping a simple smile on your lips, you couldn’t help but imagine Draco kissing her. Had they been intimate? Surely not recently if he had been touching himself. And he had said your name, not hers.

You felt your chest swell with pride.

Even with all her makeup, dresses, and fancy perfumes—Draco wanted you. The prisoner who hadn’t touched makeup in ages and wore the same dress everyday. It was washed of course, three times a week by the house elves. You had two of them, the dresses. And as for the house eleves, you never ran into them. They usually left your food at the door but that was about it.

And by the time they dropped off the food, they would apparate away with a crack.

You wondered if what Draco told you what Astoria had said about you was true. But you could believe it, noticing an empty look behind those eyes of hers. It almost seemed eery how invested into herself she was, the more she talked—the worse it became.

No wonder Draco thought she was a cunt.

After a few more minutes, she finished finally. “—but yes—thank you for asking. I had a wonderful time as expected.”

You didn’t ask.

Astoria furrowed her perfectly plucked brows, “Darling…have you bruised your neck?”

Your eyes bulged.

Covering the hickey, you stuttered as cold waves of ice kept washing over you. “I—uh—well, you see Madam, I was looking out the window and slipped like the idiot I am. And my neck, it—crushed into the window ledge.”

That was the worst fucking lie you ever gave.

But for an airhead like Astoria, it worked.

She hummed, “I see. Perhaps we should schedule a screening test for your brain. It appears your growing worse with your words,” she smiled sweetly at you. Your nostrils flared as she patted your shoulder. “Anywho—I shall surprise Draco now. He doesn’t know I’m back yet.”

Biting back a curse, she sent you one more look before shutting the door behind her. And that was when you noticed—

The door still hasn’t been fixed. And she didn’t even notice.

With an angry grunt, you stalked over to the mattress. Lifting it, you uncovered the original bottle Draco had left in here before he had stormed out. You hadn’t drank since, but decided to wash away the anger this devil of a woman kept causing you. How could someone be so—

Ugh!

Throwing your head back, the alcohol burned your lips and throat as it slid down. Staring out the window, you blinked as the world began to grow more clear once again around you.

Everything had been glossy. Shiny. Moving in fast forward. How many shots had you taken?

Five..? Six…?

And everytime you kept thinking about Draco, and those plump pink lips of those—you took another shot. Gagging and coughing out. Until the bottle had finished.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, forehead leaning against the chilled glass. Your core had been pulsing again. Alcohol seemed to make you care less about consequences, and more about what you got in the moment. And currently, you wanted to fuck the shit out of your captor.

Draco Malfoy.

Flashes of his hands running across your figure flickered in your mind. The way his voice spoke your name. Abs drenched in his cum. You wanted to cling onto his large bicep as he slipped his face between your thighs, devouring every inch of you until you turned to ash. To feel his hair between your fingers as your heels dug into his shoulders, begging for his cock.

Tossing the empty bottle onto your mattress, your drunken mind sought to find the blonde. It had been night time, and you didn’t care if Astoria was with him. It would be a plus if the bitch could watch.

Everything wobbled. You kept your hands on the wall as you made your way down to his office. The office door had been closed, so you finally noticed the large wooden platform. It had gold accents in the corners, and noises came from behind it. In your drunken mind, you could’ve sworn they were moans.

And then more.

Pressing your ear to the door, a woman began to cry out, “Yes! Faster!”

Your heart twitched.

Draco had been fucking her.

When he was supposed to be fucking you.

And like a fool, you had finally realized he only missed his wife. He probably had an argument before with her before she went to Paris, and now that she was back, he could have her again. Most likely made up with sex.

You hated that bitch.

But you hated him more.

You were glad you didn’t have sex with him. He had been The Mind Reaper after all. He wasn’t a good, honest person at all. He would kill people with their deepest, darkest thoughts. A man like that couldn’t possibly care about anyone other than himself.

How could you have forgotten?

A knock sounded at your door.

Standing up from looking out the window, you decided to open it. And your mouth almost dropped.

“Draco!”

His eyes slightly widened. Holding a finger to his lips towards you, he grabbed your arm before pulling you out your room. You remained quiet, with a pissed and confused look, as he stepped inside his office down the hall and slammed the door behind the two of you.

Furrowing your brows, you stared at him as he released his grip on your arm. You heard Astoria’s heels click against the wooden floor of the manor, annoyance creeping within you. Draco had on his all black suit, appearing he had just returned from business. “What the hell are you doing? She’ll find us.”

“You don’t leave your room. I didn’t fix the lock on purpose,” he replied with a stern tone, earning a scoff from you. He looked a bit taken aback at your demeanor as you placed your hands on your hips. Draco clenched his jaw, “For your sake, I hope that was a sigh and not an attitude.”

You remained silent, unable to hold his piercing stare. He could crack a glass with one glare. Feeling small beneath him, you simply aimed to spin around and walk away. But when you reached for the knob, his chest slammed into your back. His hand flew to your chest to stop you from falling against the door, pulling you into him as his lips graze your ear, “Why do you keep fighting it? I know you saw me, dove.”

He held amusement in his voice, large hands gently squeezing both of your breasts through your gown. You shook your head, knowing he had just touched that wench just before you. You turned your body to face Draco and pushed him off, him not even stumbling back. His eyes did form into daggers though, sending you a scowl.

“What do you take me for?”

Draco was unamused. His upper lip curled, “I beg your pardon?”

“You like having multiple women, is that it? For different times of the day?” The words held a sour taste in your mouth, stepping back from him. Draco stared at you intently with a blank, firm look. “After saying such horrid things about your wife—I figured you hated her—“

“I do hate her,” Draco hissed.

“Oh really? Was that before or after you fucked her right here in this office?”

“Impossible.”

“Oh? Really? How so?”

“Because—my wife and I haven’t had sex in ten months,” Draco growled, grabbing you by the throat. A gasp tore from your lips as he captured them with his. His taste was sweet and held a hint of whiskey, as well as that familiar sprinkle of cigarettes. It was warm and rough, sending you sparks of arousal down to your core.

He bit your lower lip, smirking down at you. “I’d rather come to my hand thinking of you then lay with my wife—as you can tell. Perhaps you are a stupid girl.”

And then he was back on you. Holding your small face in his huge hands, forcing your lips onto his. Both of your tongues swirling against one another. Your feet felt like they weren’t even on the ground, wrapped in his warmth as he savors your taste.

“Draco!”

He ignored the call of his wife, peppering kisses down your neck. Your hair fell to his strands as he kissed down your gown, handing the bottom to you. You blushed as your fingers gripped the fabric, his eyes falling onto your pussy. He appeared to be an animal, licking his lips and pupils growing dark and wide.

No one had ever been down there before. Not like that.

Seeing a man as powerful as him at his knees, felt absolutely euphoric. Your chest swelled as he looked up at you through his lashes, setting kisses on your hip bones. Your flesh lit on fire as he neared you core, until he pecked your pelvis.

“Shall I feel you come undone on my tongue, dove?”

You could’ve came during that moment. A knock sounded at the door, causing you to flinch. “Draco? Honey?”

He delivered a flat stripe up your pussy, reaching the clit to suck on. Your eyes bulged, and without thinking—a moan fell past your lips.

Radio silence rang on the other side. Draco didn’t seem to care his wife had heard you, more happy to have heard the banging stopped. Your brows furrowed as your fingers dove into his hair, hips leaning into his mouth, “Draco,” you breathed, his warm tongue licking at your bud. “Draco I think she heard us.”

He hummed, grabbing one of the rings on this fingers before letting it fall to the floor. And then slipped it inside—sending you a wink.

“Moan for me. That bitch fucked some bloke in my office, so I want you to fucking scream my name.”

His words were naughty and cold, finger stretching your walls. As it sunk into your dripping pussy, you felt your walls stretch, “Ah! Draco!—“

“THE PRISONER? DRACO! DRACO!”

He chuckled against you, the cool medal of his rings inside your hot pussy feeling absolutely delicious. Plump lips wrapped around your swollen, abused clit. You began to thrust your juices onto him, riding his tongue while his wife continued to bang outside the door. You were surprised she hadn’t broken it down by now, a hint of guilt hitting you. But it fled away quickly as you squealed on his awaiting tongue.

Your tits jiggled as you bounced. He added a second finger, eyes locked on yours, “Just like that! Oh my god—fuck. It feels so good, Draco.”

He smirked, licking your pussy up and down. Astoria screamed, the pounding growing harder. Your eyes almost crossed as he kept licking from your entrance to your clit, repeating the motion. You grabbed your breasts, pinching your nipples, as Draco’s hand held your ass to push your pussy onto him.

His other hand was busy fingering you, “You like when I eat this little pussy, dove? It tastes so fucking sweet—I might catch a toothache.”

Your giggle turned into a cry as he added a third finger, stretching you out more. Your eyes squeezed shut, “Draco! I’m gonna—Oh!”

He growled against you.

“Let me taste it, _ _. Fucking let me have it,” it was almost animalistic. Your hands pushed his head away, but he kept a firm grip, ravishing your pussy as he slurped loudly.

His fingers mixed with his tongue sucking on your pulsing clit threw you into your climax, jolting above him as your hips stuttered.

“I’m coming! Draco? I—“

“That’s if. Ignore her, and focus on my tongue.”

And you screamed. If the door had been made of glass, it would have shattered and broke down. Your stomach clenched as you released everything onto his tongue, your orgasm almost knocking you over. If he hadn’t been holding you from behind, you would have. When it slowly began to fade out, Draco tapped your thigh. “Hop on, dove.”

Smirking, you let him pick you up and lead your way to the desk. Astoria had continued to pound on the door, her screams turning to cries. You were surprised she hadn’t stopped. Draco gently laid you on his desk, spreading your legs and sliding between them.

Your bruised lips parted, panting with red cheeks as you observed Draco. His blazer was tossed onto the chair, lifting his black t-shirt to reveal his muscular torso. Every ab was sharp, so sharp you were sure they could cut you. Black ink trained across his entire chest, as well as the back of his neck and hipbones. Your body turned warm as he removed his trousers, revealing his huge cock.

His skin was so fair, as if he hadn’t even been human. Like a doll, absolutely unreal.

You wanted to trace his tattoos, but the ache in your eyes had been urgent. And with the animalistic lust he had been looking at you with, you knew he felt the same.

His soft, yet cold skin pressed against yours as he knelt down to kiss you again. Grabbing your thighs, your behind hung off the desk as he didn’t waste time. Both of you moaned in unison as he his cock stretched inside you for the first time, his head slowly inching inside.

“Fuck,” he growled, watching his cock spear your pussy with stormy eyes. “Cunt so warm and tight.”

Astoria had finally stopped shouting, most likely either left or listening. Whichever it had been—you didn’t care.

Draco was inside you, using his grip on your thighs to fuck your harder. His eyes pierced into yours, a wicked smile hanging off his swollen lips as he watched you cry out ever few seconds. Your hands grabbed his forearm as he continued to plow into you. His cock felt large inside you, almost ripping you apart.

Pleasure began to consume you.

Your mind was hazy.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Yeah, baby? Yeah?”

“Oh,” your eyes crossed as he grabbed your throat, completely fucking you onto him. Your cries and squeals intensified, as well as the burning wave in your pussy. Your body began to shake as he reached deeper inside, almost exploding from ecstasy. Draco kissed your heels as you came down.

And then it slapped you in the face. Your orgasm blindsided you, Draco watching you with hooded eyes as you creamed on his cock. Praising you with how wonderful you looked shivering on top of him, he gave you a kiss before grabbing you. Carrying you to his chair, he sat down as you remained in his lap. Hands still on your ass, he peered up at you with admiration, “Put it in, _ _. Let me tell you come on my dick again.”

Your body jolted as you nodded, eagerly placing your feet on the chair before slipping his head inside. He grabbed your back, holding your hands behind you as he began to thrust up into you, “How’s that baby? Am I fucking you good enough?”

“Yes!” You screamed, clawing at his back as your pussy spasmed from his speed. “Draco! I’m going to come again soon!”

“Sounds like a fucking plan,” he spat while continuing to pound you. He had also been growing close to you—you could tell. His chest began to clench as he held you in his arms, completely ravishing your figure. “I’m going to come too, dove. In this tight fucking pussy.”

“Draco, we aren’t marr—“

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, thumb reaching your clit. Your eyes widened down at him as he smirked wickedly. “Why don’t you just come for me and give me those pretty little moans again?”

And that’s exactly what you did.

Hot flashes shot through you, and if he hadn’t been holding your body against his—you would’ve toppled over onto the ground. His cock rubbed your walls as your orgasm flew you threw the roof, sobbing out against his lips.

He came with a shout, looking down at your push as his brows furrowed. You felt warm cum deep into your pussy as Draco finished inside you.

“Your wife,” you panted, smirking down at him. Your hands landed on his chest as he pecked your breast, sweet dripping down his forehead. “—is a lucky woman.”

[strniohoeee]

Please could you write something based off 13 going on 30? I love your writing💕

Au Revoir

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Rummaging through her old collection of photos for a work campaign, Y/N enters a time capsule. And her one mission is to find the boy she once called her best friend☁️

Warnings⚠️: NONE, I lovedddd this idea sooo much, and I tried to make it as long and cohesive as possible LOLL. The whole wishing dust thing is a bit unrealistic, so I tried to make it as real as possible🤞🏽

Song for imagine: Vienna- Billy Idol, Crazy for You- Madonna

You’re gonna kick off

Before you even get halfway through

When will you realize, Vienna waits

For you?

“Enough with the embarrassing photos of me, I’m on a mission here” I said snatching the photo book from my friends hands

“What is even the project? I’m confused” she said rolling her eyes

“My boss wants us to be more authentic with our work. Our covers are becoming a bit too. What's the word?? Cliche? And unrealistic. So I figured I’d dip into my high school pile of photos” I replied looking through my pictures

“You’re a magazine company not a school yearbook committee” She replied laughing

“Okay…but we target towards young adults high school through college years” I said to her huffing

“Well how about your yearbook?” She suggested rummaging through the box

“Oh duh! Why didn’t I think about that” I said placing the photos down

She cracked open my high school and middle school yearbook. Slipping her fingers through the pages as she giggled.

Her mouth dropped and she gasped

“Holy shit” she said flipping the book around to show me

“What?” I said squinting at the book

“Chris sturniolo babes” she said dropping the book on my lap

I grabbed the book, ghosting my finger over the page. My mind immediately raced as the memories rushed in. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Chris in 12 years. I was 25 now and I honestly forgot all about him.

“It’s just Chris” I said looking up at her

“Yeah your ex best friend who’s famous with his brothers and living in LA just like you” she replied in a duh tone

“Okay? And?” I replied placing the year book down on my lap

“Well he’s also a photographer, so I’m sure he could really help you with this. I mean this project is due in a month. I say reach out to him” she said shrugging

“Reach out to him? He doesn’t want to see me” I said shaking my head

“Why not?” She said furrowing her brows

Flashback

*snap* *snap*

“Chris! No more photos please” I said laughing and pushing him away

“Off guard pictures are the best! They show their true beauty” he said looking down at his camera

“Yeah right” I said bumping his shoulder with mine as we walked down the halls

“Y/N! I heard you were having a party tonight, and we really want to go, but Ms. Teller assigned us this huge project due Monday” Jessica said coming up to us

“Oh man that sucks” I said opening my locker and looking at her

“Josh even said he wanted to go too, but he’s coming over to help us with this project” she replied twirling her hair

“Oh umm I can do the report for you guys and have it ready for tonight” I replied shutting my locker

“PERFECT! We’ll be there” she said winking

“Oh please” Chris groaned

“Shut up loser” she said snapping at Chris

“Whatever, Y/N I’m going to head to the main office to get my new assignment” he replied

“Do whatever you want Chris it’s not like she needs a play by play” Jessica said rolling her eyes at Chris, I giggled a bit before offering Chris a sympathetic smile

He rolled his eyes and walked away.

“Okay so we’ll be there by 7?” She asked

“7 is perfect” I replied smiling at her

She nodded her head and she and her group left.

I met up with Chris at the exit as we walked home together.

“I don’t know why you want to be their friend they’re just using you” he replied as we walked down the street

“No they’re not! They’re my friends” I said sucking my teeth at him

“Yeah and pigs can fly” he said rolling his eyes

We got to our houses that were next to each other.

“I’ll see you tonight?” I asked him

“You sure will” he said before winking at me

“Perfect” I said stepping onto my lawn

“Arrivederci” Chris said waving

“Au Revoir” I replied waving back

We parted ways and I got to working on Jessica and her group's report. Finishing within two hours and beginning to get ready for my party.

Chris came over at 6:45 and we went down to my basement. Put some music on and add the last bit of snacks to the table.

“Oh god you’re even dressed like them” he said looking at me fully

“Am not! I just like fashion” I said rolling my eyes

“Yeah sure” he said rolling his eyes

“Chris just play nice please” I said looking at him

“Will do” he said throwing his hands up

The bell rang and I jumped up heading upstairs to let them in. Jessica, her group and Josh came. I ushered them downstairs and we sat around talking, laughing and eating.

“Y/N I’m going to get my camera” Chris told me as I was talking to Josh

“Do whatever you want Chris I don’t need a play by play” I responded, everyone laughed and I smiled at their reactions.

Chris scoffed, stomping up the stairs and out the door.

“So Y/N how about we play 7 minutes in heaven. And you get to go first” Jessica said grabbing my hand so I can stand up

She walked me over to my closet, opening the door as I got in

“I hear Josh wants to go first” She said in a whisper

“No way” I said giggling

“Way” she responded

“Oh and before I forget where’s the report? Thank you so much for doing it” she said smiling at me

“It’s on the table by the stairs” I said, she nodded and shut the door

I stood in the closet while I waited for Josh. Anxiously waiting for him as I had my back to the door. Suddenly I heard footsteps and my heart started racing.

The door opened and I turned around

“What took you so-“ but I cut myself off once I realized it was Chris at the door

“Chris? Where’s Josh? Where’s everybody” I said pushing him out the way and stepping out

“They left” he said

“What did you do?” I replied in anger

“I didn’t do anything! They just left” He replied

“God Chris! Just leave” I said looking back at him

“What? What did I do?” He said concerned and saddened

“JUST GO OKAY I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN” I yelled at him and pointed to the stairs

Chris hung his head low and walked away leaving me in anger. That was the last time I ever spoke to Chris….

Flashback Over

“Let’s just say I wasn’t the nicest person ever” I replied shaking my head

“I’m sure it’s water under the bridge, but you’re about to be late it’s 11” she said looking down at her phone

“Oh shit” I said, jumping up and grabbing my phone, purse and keys.

Running out my apartment and to my car, hopping in and basically speeding to work.

I rushed up to my office placing my purse down and sitting in my chair. The phone calls and emails started as soon as I opened my desktop.

*knock* *knock*

“Come in” I called out as my fingers typed faster against the keyboard

“Good morning Y/N, I have some messages for you and Rachel wants to know if you’re still on for lunch tomorrow?” My assistant Vicky asked me

“Place them there for me, and yes tomorrow at 1:30 works perfect” I replied looking down at my calendar sitting on my desk

“Is there anything I can get for you?” She asked me

“Actually there is one thing! There’s this person I need you to find. His names Christopher Sturniolo, I need his phone number” I said to her

“On it” she replied before walking out the room

My mind raced as I tried to focus on my emails and calls. Maybe this was a bad idea? Contacting someone who I haven’t seen in 12 years especially after being a bitch to them made me uneasy. However my thoughts were pushed away when Vicky walked back in

“ so I found one phone number online and it happens to be his parents so when I called them, I told them that it was very urgent and that I was with debt collectors, so they gave me his phone number and his new address” she said handing me the paper

“Holy shit! You’re heaven sent! Thank you” I replied as I grabbed the paper from her hand

I finished my day of work at about 5, clocking out and rushing to the parking lot. I put in Chris' address and surprisingly it wasn’t far from me or my job. About 30 minutes?

Once I was on the freeway I started to have second thoughts, but there was physically and mentally no turning back now. After what felt like eons I arrived at the apartment complex. Super boujee might I add. I parked in the visitors area and looked for his building number

“Building 9” I said as I walked past 7 and 8

Opening the door and walking into the massive apartment unit.

“Whewww okay unit number 102, floor 4” I say with a shaky breath

I got in the elevator hitting floor 4 as my breathing got shaky. Stepping out and following the arrows to the 100’s.

“99,100,101,102” I replied looking to my right, fuck I thought

I slid the paper in my purse as I inhaled sharply. Wiping my sweaty palms on my slacks as I brought my fist up to the door.

*knock* *knock* *knock*

I stepped back a bit as I waited for someone to come to the door. Within seconds the door opened and my heart started racing even faster.

“Woah” he said confused

“Chris?” I said tilting my head a bit

“Yeah?” He replied confused as ever

“You’re so different” I said smiling a bit

“Yeah…” he stated as he scratched the back of his neck

“You don’t know me?” I ask a little hurt

“I mean I don’t blame you! I wasn’t the nicest, and I haven’t seen you or spoke to you in 12 years” I said rambling nervously

“Y/N….Y/N Y/L/N” he said as his face softened

“Yes! It’s me” I said to him

“Hey” he said

I immediately hugged him, not realizing what I was doing.

“Uhh come on in” he said stumbling back a bit

I let go of him looking at him shyly before stepping in.

His apartment clattered in cameras and pictures everywhere. Stepping further into his living room as I looked around

“Still taking pictures?” I said smiling at the wall

“Uhh yup helps pays the bills” he said awkwardly

“Uhh…hey Y/N why are you here?” He asked confused and blinking at me

“I’m sorry I just….I just came across our yearbooks and realized how long it’s been” I said tucking my hair behind my ear

“We’re not friends anymore, you can’t just drop by like nothing” he said laughing awkwardly

“We were so close” I said looking at him

“Yeah we were, but not anymore” he said furrowing his brows at me

“Oh god what have I done” I said stepping back

“No it’s okay, calm down” he said sensing my anxiety

“I…I think I need some air” I said breathing heavily

“Hey it’s okay” he said looking at me

“Oh my god I need air” I said realizing how dumb this was

“Let's step outside I’ll walk you to your car” he said

I nodded my head as I followed him out the door. Walking down to my car before stopping at the hood of it.

“I mean what happened to us” I said shaking my head

“I mean we went different ways you know” he said apologetically

“No I mean what really happened to us” I said shaking my head again

“You uhh went along with those girls and I went my way” he responded

“I was so stupid, I don’t even know why I did that” I said rolling my eyes at myself

“Listen we all fall down the wrong path and it’s okay” he said

“No it’s not, and I’m sorry” I said nodding my head at him

“Don’t beat yourself up over it” he said laughing

“I wish I didn’t fall down that path and be friends with those girls” I said to him

“Nah don’t worry about it” he said waving his hand at me

“I can’t believe it’s been 12 years since I last saw you” I said to him

“If it makes you feel better I think I saw you through a frosted window one time 2 years ago” he said smiling and to this I laughed nodding my head

“It was great seeing you but uhh I got to go” he said pointing behind him

“Yeah…yeah okay” I said to him

He began to walk away before I spoke up

“Chris?” I said

“Yeah?” He replied

“Arrivederci” I replied waving at him and he smiled

“I’ll see you” he said laughing

“Chrisss” I said to him waiting for him to answer

He laughed and rolled his eyes

“Au Revoir” he replied waving at me

Chris went his way and I went mine. Getting in my car and heading back home. It wasn’t until I was home that I realized I completely forgot to ask him about the photo shoot.

A few days went by and I was sitting at a bar finishing my drink. Taking notes for my new campaign before I decided to head out.

Stepping out onto the dewey street as I pulled my phone out to order an Uber.

“Y/N?” I heard, immediately turning my head and smiling

“Oh my god. Chris! Hi” I said cracking a wide tooth smile

“Hey” I said walking over to him

“Hey, how are you?” He said smiling at me

“I’m good” I replied

“Hey I’m sorry about the other day for the awkward interaction” he said laughing

“Oh that’s alright I bombarded you” I said shooing him

“But uh what are you doing here?” I asked him

“I’m actually uh, I’m actually here with my girlfriend” he said to me looking over his shoulder as I saw a girl stepping out of a store. She walked over to us smiling

“This is Bonnie my girlfriend” he said to me

“I’m Y/N” I said a bit shocked as I shook her hand

“Aww Chris told me all about you! It’s so nice of you to stop bye” she said blinking her hazel eyes at me

“Oh no Chris is the nice one! Talking to me after so long” I replied smiling

“Are you in the influencer world too?” I asked her

“Oh no, I work in a corporate position over at HLC” she said nodding at me

“Ohhh nice nice” I said nodding my head at her

“But it was so great to finally meet you” she said smiling at me

“Likewise! I’ll let you guys go. It was great running into you” I said waving at them before walking away

Walking two blocks down before ordering my Uber. Many thoughts running through my head. Girlfriend? Since when?? He was notoriously known for being afraid of women. I guess I didn’t really know him.

I went home that night with many questions in my head and a burning desire to see Chris again. I opted for stalking his instagram. Over 2 million followers and not a single photo of Bonnie. I guess he wanted to keep it private.

My finger hovered over the message button. Chewing the inside of my lip as my thumbs swirled around. I mean I don’t want his girlfriend to think anything of it, so I closed out the Instagram app and threw my phone to the left of me.

Groaning at this new found problem I was having. I decided to let it go and move on with my life. Too scared to reach out to him I decided to take a crack at the project again.

Confused on where to start as my living room was a mess of photos and photo albums of my life. I was now at 3 weeks and I was neck deep in work not even a single idea written down.

I decided to rest it for the evening and head to bed.

A few days later in a moment of weakness I grabbed my car keys and headed over to Chris apartment. Slowly punching myself for this crazy behavior.

Knocking on his door as I picked at my fingernails.

“Okay…you’re not pizza” he said laughing at me

“Want to go for a walk?” I asked him

“Sure” he replied grabbing his house keys and shutting the door behind him

We walked throughout his apartment complex

“I can’t believe you have a girlfriend” I said laughing

“What? What’s so shocking” he said laughing

“You were known for being scared of women” I said giggling

“And I’m 25 now, times have changed” he said laughing with me

“Is she your soulmate?” I asked him

“Ehhh I don’t believe in that” he said shrugging his shoulders

“Oh come on! Does she give you butterflies? Does your skin burn when she touches you?” I said bumping his shoulder

“Oh please I don’t believe that” he said bumping me back

“So what’s the real reason you came to me the other day?” He asked me

“Well I realized I wasn't a nice person to you and my friend convinced me to reach back out to you” I said half smiling at him

“Really?” He said looking at me

“Yes and I also may need your help” I said giggling

“There’s always a but with you” he said shaking his head

“It’s a Y/N guaranteed” I said shrugging my shoulders

“So what’s this you need help with?” He asked

“Sooo my company wants us to redesign our magazine for next month, and I only have 3 weeks to finish it. We’re trying to gear more towards the younger population. After looking through our yearbooks I had an idea, and it was an idea you’d help with perfectly” I said to him

“I’m down, that sounds awesome” he said nodding his head

“You’re amazing” I said hugging him and he reluctantly hugged me back

Chris invited me back to his apartment to eat pizza and brainstorm some ideas. As we sat in his living room sharing pizza my mind began to race

“Chris, do you ever wish you could go back?” I asked him

“I wouldn’t mind going back” he said laughing

“If you were given one do over,anything in your life, what would you do?” I asked him taking a sip of my drink

“Mmm nothing” he said swallowing the bite he just took

“Really?” I said shocked

“Really” he replied nodding his head

“But did you ever make a big mistake? One that could change your life? What about that?” I asked him

“Well I’ve made many mistakes, but I don’t regret any of them” he said wiping his hands

“How come?” I asked him getting a bit sad as tears threatened to come out

“Because if I hadn’t made them, I wouldn’t have learned how to make things right” he said nodding his head

At this moment I was feeling so much regret for cutting off my best friend since birth. We shared every birthday, every holiday and every event till we were 13. And of course it was me who had to ruin it. So I truly sat here fighting back tears.

I smiled at him before looking down and taking a sharp inhale.

“I’m sorry I treated you horribly” I said licking my lips and swallowing thickly

“It’s okay” he said offering me a reassuring smile

That night we brainstormed some ideas. We also caught up on life, even cracking jokes here and there. Even though we hadn’t spoken in so long it felt like we never missed a day.

Later that week Chris met me at a park.

“Chris you made it” I said standing up and hugging him

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world” he said hugging me back

“So here’s half of your payment and the rest of it will be when you finish” I said handing him a check

“Thank you” he said grabbing the check

“No thank you” I said as we walked over to the photo shoot set up

“However I looked at your magazine and my photography style is nothing like yours” he replied looking over at me

“Exactly” I said smirking at him

We walked over to the set up and began setting all the models up. Setting everyone up how we wanted. Throwing leaves and balloons as we laughed.

Stopping to look at the shots offering my advice on how certain people should be photographed. Chris listened to me intently and the photos came out awesome.

That night we had a photoshoot again and it was prom themed. Chris was taking pictures of this one couple and he just wasn’t liking the way it was coming out

“Hey let me show you something, it seems a bit fake. We want this shoot to be fun and authentic” Chris said to the guy

He walked over to me, grabbing me.

“Wrap your hand around her waist and have her place her head on your shoulder, get close like this and just sway to the music” he said to them as he swayed us around while placing my head on his shoulder

They readjusted their positions and really enjoyed themselves.

“Perfect! Just like that” he said as he snapped some photos

Offering a smile to me as I stood on the sidelines.

Two nights later Chris and I were in his studio looking at the developed photos. His gaze on me as I glanced at the photos

“God these came out beautiful” I say running my fingers over the photos

“Yeah they came out good didn’t they” he said as his was looking at me

“I love them, do you?” I asked him

“Yeah….I do” he said pushing hair behind my ear

My breathing hitch in my throat as I tried to ignore the gesture. Not realizing what he did Chris cleared his throat

“Uh it’s getting late we should uhh we should head home” he said standing up

“You know what I wish for right now? I wish to go on a walk” I said looking at him

“Uhhh yeah sure” he said grabbing his stuff as we headed out of his studio

We walked to the park that was across the way. Walking the track as we talked about everything. Mainly about the photos because I knew they’d be a hit at the office.

“You know I’ve had a really great time working with you this week” Chris blurted out

“Me too” I replied smiling at him

We stopped at a swing set, sitting down as we swung back and forth. Enjoying the silence and the wind rustling through the trees.

“Wanna know a secret?” I said as I glanced over at him

“Yeah?” He replied looking over at me

“You’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever known” I said smiling at him

He looked down, chuckling as he smiled. Nodding his head but not sure how to go about the flirty compliment I just dropped on him.

“Alright swinging competition” I said bringing the silence

“Whoever goes the furthest the other owes a drink” I said laughing

“A Pepsi” he said laughing

“Ouu upping the stakes” I said laughing at him and he rolled his eyes

“And dinner Friday night at 8” I said to him

“You got yourself a deal” he said laughing with me

“One. Two. Three” he shouts before we jump off

Us both landing in the sand. Me ahead of him as I rolled a bit and he rolled into me.

“UHHHH” he groaned

“Are you okay?” I said laughing

“Yeah yeah I’m okay. I should’ve ducked and rolled” He said laughing

He leaned up hovering over me. Staring into my eyes as the swings creaked behind us.

“Chris” I said in a whisper

Suddenly Chris leaned down connecting our lips together. Immediate butterflies in my stomach as his hand was placed on my cheek. The kiss set me back 12 years as my mind raced.

He pulled away sitting in the sand looking into the distance as I sat up laying my head on his shoulder. Smiling sheepishly as I drew shapes into his back.

I never knew I could grow feelings for someone after not seeing them for over a decade. And I for sure didn’t expect to grow these feelings so fast.

What Y/N didn’t know was that the young man was too feeling a certain way about Y/N. His mind raced and tried to figure out what this all meant. Did he really like her or was it just actions out of pure instinct? He just knew doing this to Bonnie was wrong.

However when her hands were placed on his shoulders while he worked in his studio. He got extra happy thinking it was Y/N, but when he was met with Bonnie he felt a sense of disappointment?

Sitting at lunch with her while he mind ran rapidly. Pictures and thoughts only of Y/N eating away. Constantly having to ask Bonnie to repeat herself. Explaining he was stressed with his current workload and couldn’t focus. To Bonnie it was true but to him it was a blatant lie….

Bonnie talking about eventually moving in with Chris. Planning all these future vacations. And all Chris can think about is doing all this, but with Y/N. Feeling immediate guilt at this.

However he realized that Y/N was in his past. Yes he did have a crush on her for as long as he could remember. But she chose a different life and different friends. Simply because she came back after 12 years doesn’t mean he throws away his current life for what once was.

Chris really needed to speak with Y/N about this. They had their dinner Friday to celebrate the redesign with his photos, but he couldn’t seem to bring up the fact that what happened was a mistake.

He had gone to her office Monday morning as she was out for the day starting a new project, and it just seemed like they couldn’t catch up with each other. Missed calls from both sides and unanswered messages.

Y/N really wanted to talk to Chris too about what happened at the swing set, so she decided to head over to his apartment. Smiling the whole time because she finally realized why she should’ve never left Chris. And all these feelings were hitting her like a ton of bricks.

She knocked at his door with a wide grin waiting as she heard feet shuffling on the other side of the door.

The door swung open and to her surprise it was Bonnie.

“Hi” I said taken back

“Y/N right?” She said smiling

“Yeah!” I replied back

“I was just looking for Chris I really wanted to talk to him about something” I said looking behind her into the apartment

“Oh I’ll uh tell him you stopped by when he gets back” she said nodding at me

“Gets back?” I asked

“Oh he’s getting us dinner right now” she said nodding at me

“Oh okay” I said before stepping back

“Well bye” she said waving at me

“Bye” I said looking back at her before walking off

No matter how much we tried to communicate it was like the universe wanted to keep us apart. I shook my head, getting in my car and breaking down. Upset over ditching Chris for fake ass friends, upset for not admitting my feelings sooner, and upset that no matter how I felt Bonnie was who he wanted to be with.

The following day I paced my living room contemplating if I should even try and contact Chris again. It was a clear sign that I was not meant to be a part of his life anymore.

After some time of biting on my nails and walking back and forth I said fuck it and grabbed my keys. Getting in my car and racing to Chris' apartment.

Furiously knocking at his door praying that it was Chris on the other side and not Bonnie. Chewing my lip as I waited for him to open the door.

The door swung open and I felt immediate relief

“CHRIS” I shouted hugging him as he hugged back

“Come in” he said before shutting the door behind him

“I need to talk to you” I said to him

“Me too” he said scratching his neck

“Since that night at the park my mind has been racing with many thoughts. Thoughts I couldn’t even manage to think of, but I’m in love with you Chris” I said to him

“I…” he couldn’t even focus on what to say

“Chris, I am not the awful person that I know I was. I don’t even know that person. And I’d like to believe that if you knew that you wouldn’t be with Bonnie, but with me instead.” I said to him

“I’m not going to lie. I felt things for you these past times together that I didn’t know I could feel. But I just realized that a walk down memory lane doesn’t change the path I’m currently on” he said

“And why not?” I asked as tears stung my waterline

“Because we both moved on. We went separate ways. I chose Bonnie and I can’t just forget what her and I have” he replied

It was like daggers to my heart as I let tears fall.

“Don’t cry” he said walking up to me

“No, it’s okay I’ll be fine” I said smiling at him

“I uhh I found this picture of us from middle school and I want you to have it” he said walking over to his coffee table

I laughed a bit and wiped my eyes. He handed me the picture over. It was the both of us sitting at the beach. His arm slung over my shoulder as I made an annoyed face. It was our go to pose.

“Thank you” I said wiping my eyes again

He looked at me before swallowing thickly.

“Y/N I…..I’ve always loved you” he said looking down

My breathing caught in my throat at this.

“Fuck it! I can’t fight this feeling anymore. I love you so much and I have never been so sure about anything in my life than right now at this moment. You came in at such an unexpected time, but I want nothing more than to be with you” he said walking over to me

“Chris…” I started but he cut me off

He crashed his lips to mine wrapping his hands around my waist as our lips clashed together. My hands caressing his face as I smiled into the kiss.

Pulling away I looked at him.

“I’m so glad to be back in your life Chris” I said smiling at him

“I wouldn’t have it any other way” he stated as he kissed my forehead

Chris and I have been seeing each other for 5 months now. Breaking it off with Bonnie wasn’t easy, but he knew it had to be done. We spent so much time rekindling our friendship and taking so many pictures that now we’re clattered along his walls.

Who would’ve thought reading out to someone after 12 years would have fixed years of torture. And to that I say

Au Revoir

The End

God damn my thumbs hurt from all this writing, but I hope you enjoyed this! I wrote this as I watched 13 going on 30. It’s my comfort movie😩😩. Were so close to 1,900 followers and I’m so shook I love yall 🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[sophietv]

The ULTIMATE LSK Thread Of Koincidences

I've decided to piece together all the Koincidences that I could find since fall 2019.

It's easy to not understand LSKs when you haven't seen all the flagging that they've been doing, especially with how the Lover Era went as well as Folkmore. But once you start to piece all those hints together in a timeline, it paints a pretty clear picture.

I've spent hours in both their social medias pages and searching for Timelines done by other amazing blogs on here.

I'll credit when needed and link to the timelines.

I'm used to doing threads on Twitter and posting everything, not just link. I'll do the same here because I've notice that a lot of posts linked into timelines on here were deleted. This way all the informations are in one place.

If there's things that I missed, don't hesitate to tell me and I'll update the thread!

IMPORTANT: I've linked all the important piece of Kaylor Lore when necessary for you to better understand the references. So when there's a (X) beside something, it's a link to more informations about that subject to help you better understand.

August 2019:

August 3rd: Karlie's birthday. Taylor posts the famous Bi Hearts Crispies Treats, that will star in the Lover Lyrics Video later too.

August 8th: Taylor is on the Cover of Vogue.

She is wearing a Cartier Love Ring. Karlie wears one too, she has wore it for a very long time now (years before this article) on her right ring finger.

Right ring finger is used by LGBTQ+ couples for marriage or to indicate that the person is in a serious relationship.

Karlie has been wearing hers a lot more (in almost all her pictures) since summer 2022. (X)

And it's the very definition of Love Locked Down (X)

On the website it says: "Lock in your love forever" (X)

August 16th: Lover is out as a single exactly 13 days after Karlie's birthday The lyrics video is completely filled with Kaylor's references. I did a thread on Twitter (X). Also, Lover lasts 3:41, wich is 143 backwards = I Love You.

August 18:

Karlie was listening to Lover on repeat on Spotify.

It was even reported by Taylor's news accounts on Twitter:

August 22:

Lover MV is out. Taylor uses the You Are In Love lyrics to announced it.

Confirming that it was inspired by those lyrics: "You two are dancing in a snow globe round and round" wich are a reference to VSFS 2013.

I will not do MV analysis in this thread because it will never end if I start. But I'll link them when I have.

Septembre 2019:

Septembre 9th :

Paris City Of Lover Concert.

The mural on the stage is extremely Kaylor Coded.

Here's a post I did about this (X)

Septembre 27th:

Eye theory reference by Karlie on Instagram

Ps: On this thread I'll refer to only the ones I find very clear, because there's so much.

If you don't know about The Eye Theory, it's a piece of lore extremely important. Here's a post I did about it (X).

Septembre 29th:

Karlie does a post leaving Paris and saying "Au Revoir" wich is oddly similar to a post Taylor did in May that year.

Octobre 2019:

Octobre 2nd:

Karlie talks in one of her Klossy video on YouTube about the time she cut her hair short. How at first she was insecure about it.

And she talks about the 2013 VSFS where it was the first time that she walked with her hair short.

And she says that people would come to her to say that they wanted the same haircut.... like Taylor did.

Octobre 29th:

Taylor posts on her Instagram about the International Cat Day. Karlie liked the post. (I'm pretty sure it's the last Taylor's post ever that she'd like).

Novembre 2019:

Novembre 13th:

Kaylor meeting anniversary (X)

Taylor:

The Lover Remix with Shawn Mendez is out.

There's the new line written by Taylor : "Look into my eyes they will tell you the truth, the girl in my story has always been you".

The Lover and the heart on her eye are now gold. (X)

The lyrics video is on a snow globe now, throwback to YAIL.

She announces the new remix all over New York's billboards.

Karlie

She releases a Klossy video where she shows what's on her phone.

And you see a sequence where she answers a group chat nammed BFFs, and Taylor is in it. (You see her Lover Instagram pfp of the time).

Novembre 24th:

Karlie announces on Instagram a new community phone number that you can use to text her.

And if you do... the text you receive says: "all other texts are coming from ME!"...

Also...Eye Theory.

Novembre 25th :

Taylor performs Lover at the AMA.

During the number, there's a ballerina dancing that seems to always want to go toward Taylor but keeps coming back to the man instead.

There's even a moment where she's drawn back to the man and hit him to run back to Taylor, but he brings her back to him.

The Ballerina is Misty Copeland. (and here's the scene described above)

Source of the video: iwanthermidnightz (X)

In April 2017 Karlie said in an interview for Love Magazine with Derek Blasberg that she was fan on Misty Copeland. (X)

Ballet is VERY important for Karlie since she was young.

Misty follows both Karlie and Taylor on Instagram

And in 2021, she wore a "Like a Kloss" shirt on pictures she posted.

Decembre 2019:

Decembre 4th:

Kissgate anniversary (X)

Taylor wears the Victoria Secret Angel Ring.

She wore this ring for the first time on Octobre 23rd 2016, the last time Karlie and Taylor were papped together at an event (Drake's birthday) AKA 2190 days exactly since Midnights release (Glitch).

See my Love Blackout post for more informations (X) She wore it ever since at important events to signal Karlie.

Decembre 10th:

Taylor post Cats promotion on Instagram with picture of her through a giant door.

The next episode of Project Runway, Karlie walks though a giant door the same way for a Cats promo.

Decembre 11th:

Eye Theory post on Karlie's Instagram

Decembre 17th:

Karlie post a video on Klossy where she mentions falconery, seemingly out of context with what she was saying. And put an accent on it by having a Falcon animation.

Wich is interesting because back in August, Taylor released the Lover Lyrics Video with a lot of Kaylor references (see the link I put back in august).

But on that video, there's a reference to their Big Sur second trip (X)

With a picture of Taylor holding a falcon.

Decembre 31st:

Karlie post a collection of her Vogue covers on Instagram.

And there's the one that she did with Taylor. (X)

There you have it!

Fall of 2019.

It's pretty loud but honnestly in the Timeline, it's the less loud period of all.

Things gets REALLY interesting toward 2020-2021 and SUPER loud in 2022 and SCREAMS in 2023.

I'll continue this thread tomorrow but rebloging and adding to it years by years.

If there's things I missed don't hesitate to tell me so I'll add it!

I'll probably edit this to add things if there's things I forgot. I'll note everytime something is added.

This Masterpost helped me make this part (X)

The 2020 Part 1 is ready here (X)

[syunkiss]

i could talk about malice mizer songs and bsd for a whole day

Like. Baroque is obviously Fyolai (Nikolai to Fyodor) coded. No discussion.

"Because I stopped your breath with my hands (...) oh, My Sweet Corpse, I put weight on this love..." - Baroque, Malice Mizer

Au Revoir was MADE for Rimlaine. (Rimbaud to Verlaine) Not only because its name if french lol but the lyrics. Is just so.

"Your familiar form leaning on the windows, flickers among the hazy sunlight and disappears, a whispered phrase in my crowded memories says (...) Just a while more, I want to fall asleep holding you.." - Au Revoir, Malice Mizer

Unfortunately I will have to relate Odango (Ango to Oda) to Syunikiss (🤭) because. Just. Read these lyrics.

"Ah… To the lord who dwells in the sky that has answered my prayers, crant one more prayer of mine… “Return her heart to her.” (...) With a cold finger I trace the tear stains running down your cheek And in a trembling voice I repeat, “Return to the sky…”" - Syunikiss, Malice Mizer

And UNFORTUNATELY I WILL have to relate Ma Cherie to Soukoku. (Dazai to Chuuya) I AM SO SORRY. Just. Read that.

"Because of the tight shoes that it was forced to wear, that doll in the show window cannot move. Today I have no plans, so it might be nice to absorb myself in the passerbys... In the morning after the rain, I will jump in puddles, and I'll wait for a night with falling stars and make a wish... Ma chérie, are you missing me?" - Ma Chérie, Malice Mizer

[thelovelyruin]

𝖆𝖈𝖖𝖚𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : choso just couldn’t wait for you and him to be acquainted.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : college au, smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering, edging?

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 5.3K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from acquainted by the weeknd.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! probably my favorite yet. i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Baby, you're no good 'cause they warned me ‘bout your type.

“Yeah, no.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean, NO. She’s bad news, dude.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, I don’t. She just gives off the vibe that she’d break your heart or somethin'.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, she’s out of your league, first of all. You’re kinda awkward, and I can’t tell if you’re celibate or just can’t get laid. That and she’s pretty friendly with everyone.”

“Shouldn’t she be friendly?”

“Yeah, a little too friendly. A jealous motherfucker like you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“She wouldn’t be that way if she was in a relationship, right?”

Yuuji raised his eyebrow and threw his arms up.

“The world may never know. That is unless…you wanna know?”

Choso rolled his eyes, following Yuuji to class.

Baby, you're no good; I think I fell for you.

Little did Yuuji know Choso was already in love with you. As much as he’d try not to, he couldn’t help but see you walking around campus. 

Pretty face adorned with sparkly lipgloss, your hair always down, giving a slight view of your hoop earrings. You usually wore a little locket necklace, never telling anyone what was inside, sitting atop a pink shirt that your tits always looked great in. Then a miniskirt that, depending on the breeze that day, gave a sneak peek of your ass. Then, the heels you wear, except for the winter when you wore a cute pair of boots with leggings, he could practically see through them. It was tough when he was in class with you; you raised your hand to answer a question, a French manicure, and the clinking of your bangles that were practically ASMR for him. Then, there were your books that, when some random guy wasn’t offering to hold them, pressed against your chest, making your breasts lift as you walked. Sometimes, you’d wear a perfume that smelled like cake; other days, vanilla, pretty hard to miss as you walked by. Then there was your skin, always glowing like you drank from the fountain of youth or something, legs smooth as you crossed them over one another or stood before the seminar to answer a question on the board. Sometimes, you had a pair of stockings or thigh highs that covered them, ending a little lower than where your skirt ended; god forbid you bent over, which you were careful never to do, usually asking someone to pick something up for you. You never touched a door either; sure, it was because every guy wanted to fuck you, running around like your puppies ready for a task; sometimes you gave them one, they’d run back to you with a lollipop or something like that, which you parted your lips so sexily to take in and suck. 

It's not like he was paying attention or anything.

You got me puttin' time in.

Now, Choso wasn’t terrible at talking to girls, sometimes getting approached but a little too awkward to continue the conversation. Then again, he had the hots for you, so it was hard to look at anyone else. He’d got it in his mind that he’d talk to you one of these days. Maybe he’d ask you out on a date, but he wouldn’t know how he’d react if you rejected him; in light of that, he never said anything to you, just an awkward look if you guys ever made eye contact, which you always gave him a confident one, followed by a wave. But all that was thrown out the window right now. He was too shocked that you were standing in front of him to hear what you’d said; your face had one of those optimistic looks, hands sitting on his desk in the library as your arms squished your tits together, leaning over a bit to look at him.

“Hello, earth to Choso, you there?”

“Sorry, could you repeat that?”

Your skirt sat particularly short on your hips today, your belly button ring gleaming with a little heart at the end, but his eyes drifted to your waistline, a little bit of a pink fabric peeking ever so slightly out the top of your denim-

“I said, “Hey, Choso! What’s up?””

“Oh, sorry. Not much, how about you?”

“Oh, nothin’; saw you were sittin’ alone and wanted to come say hi; that okay?”

It was more than okay. He had to shift in his seat, boner becoming irritably hard against his thigh.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Uh, wanna take a seat?”

“Sure! So, whatcha workin' on?”

“Oh, I’m just studying for the statistics exam.”

“That class is super hard! I feel like I’m not getting any of it.”

He took that as his one-way ticket to testing the waters with you.

“I could, um, tutor you if you want.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

You perked up, hand touching his arms, tits calling out as you shifted towards him in the seat. He couldn’t take his eyes off them, but he knew he had to focus if this was gonna work at all.

“Yeah, it’s no problem.”

“Perfect, when are you free?

He was free anytime for you.

“Uh, I’m free after classes; what about you?”

“Hmm, well, I have a sorority meeting at six tomorrow, so that probably won’t work, but then, ooo, I have cheer practice on Thursday, ugh, and I can’t forget Nobara’s party on Friday!”

“So, Wednesday?”

“Perfect! We’d just have to do it after my nail appointment at 3.”

He looked at your nails; nothing looked bad about them, so he was confused. He hadn’t realized how busy you were, which explained why you didn’t have a boyfriend. But that only made him feel worse.

“I think your nails are nice like that?”

You were blushing now, bringing a hand out in front of you two.

“Ya think so? I was thinking of changing the color; I've changed my mind since last week.”

Your phone got a ring; he noticed it was Mai, a girl he’d often see you walking around with. Happily, you answered it.

“Hey babe, what's up?”

He couldn't hear what Mai was saying to you on the phone, but fuck, he wished you'd answer the phone like that for him. That's when it struck him that he hadn't even-

“Sorry about that! She had to tell me about this crazy thing one of our sisters did.”

“Sisters?”

“Yeah, like in our sorority, silly! Anyways, gotta blast, but I enjoyed our chat!”

You pulled a pen out of your purse along with a piece of gum; after unwrapping it and putting it in your mouth, you grabbed Choso’s hand, writing down your phone number.

“There ya go, put it in fast so it doesn’t wash off, 'kay? Bye, cutie!”

With that, you walked away. See, this is where Choso was fucked; he had to think about when he should text you, now, later today, or Wednesday? That and his boner. He hurried up and shuffled to his and Yuuji’s dorm room, using his backpack to cover his crotch.

Nobody got me feeling this way.

“YOU GOT HER NUMBER?”

“Yes, but it’s because I’m tutoring her.”

“So, you and her, alone. “Studying”.”

“Yes, Yuuji, now fuck off!”

When Choso told Yuuji about the exchange earlier, he was convinced you were on something.

“So, she just randomly walked up to you? Isn’t that weird?”

“Is it that foreign for someone to want to talk to me?”

Yuuji looked him up and down, giving him that look. Choso scoffed and continued typing up his essay. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, if he was being honest. He tried his best to put off texting you, but that lasted all but 4 hours.

“Hey. It’s Choso.”

He sighed as he threw his head back. He was feeling a bit stupid, to be honest. For all he knew, you had been dared to talk to him, or it was a little game you came up with. Still, he knew it wasn’t in your character to do something like that, but his self-loathing told him otherwise. All of a sudden, though, his screen lit up.

“haiiii <3 wednesday still good? :3”

“Yeah, what time?”

“let’s do 5, 'kay?”

“Sounds good.”

“yay! see you then :p.”

When Wednesday came around, Choso was nervous all day. Yuuji teased him for it, saying there was nothing to worry about; you guys were only “studying.” Choso had seen you in class with the usual demeanor and look, but instead, today, you gave him a wink as you walked by, which went straight to his dick. It had been 4:55, and he was pacing his room, trying to mentally and physically prepare to be alone with you for the next hour or so. But then five came, then 5:05, then-

A knock at the door, which he was praying, wasn't Yuuji coming back to the room; he told Choso earlier he was gonna spend the night out ‘In case something happened.’ Much to Choso’s bliss, it was you, panting a bit. 

“I'm so sorry! I spilled my smoothie on my other top, so I had to change, then I ran over as fast as I could! You’re not too mad at me, are you?”

Choso had realized you had a different shirt on when he opened the door. This one was a lower cut, your cleavage on full display, the bottom short cropped. Damn, you looked good.

“You’re fine; come in.”

“Ooo, thanks!”

You walked into the room, and he waited for you to say something; his room was pretty much clean, except for a pair of socks Yuuji left on the floor. Instead, you smile at him, then bend over to set your purse and books- fuck, you bent over. Choso looked at every single item in the room, anything to not stare at your ass in his peripheral vision. Quickly, you got up and turned around, Choso flustered as ever.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“Uh, no…let’s get started.”

An hour passed, and Choso was shocked at his level of resolve. He tried his best to help you and pay attention to the papers in front of you, but fuck, your tits looked great from this angle.

“All done! I think this is the best I’ve ever done! Thank you so so much!”

You wrapped your arms around him, bringing him into a hug that made his breath rapid. You pulled back from him now, still hugging him, as you looked up at him with those doe eyes of yours. Choso was much taller than you, so he was getting quite the view, but that came with him looking the most flustered he’s ever been. You let go with a giggle, walking over to sit on his bed. He watched you sit back on your hands, legs slightly open as your chest poked out. God, you looked cute, even better that you were sitting on HIS bed.

“Hey, Choso?”

“Yeah?”

“I need your help with something.”

“What’s up?”

You got me touchin' on your body…

He walked over to you with a confused look on his face. What could you possibly want? You guys had already studied, which is what you both agreed to; maybe another class-

You opened your thighs to him, panty-clad pussy on full display.

He was about to fucking die. He couldn’t help but pinch himself; he had to be dreaming. It was already surprising to him that you were in his room, but you practically asking him to touch your pussy was an enigma. You pulled him forward by his shirt, his face up to yours.

“That is, if you wanna.”

Choso started melting, but he wouldn’t let this opportunity pass him by. With urgency, he dropped to his knees, positioning himself on the floor between your legs, both draped over his shoulders as he pulled you closer to him. God, he could smell you; it was making him hungry. Then there was your thong soaked from your wetness, leading him to wonder how long you wanted this. The print of your lips against the fabric was about to send him over. He brought his hands up your legs, the feeling of your plush thighs making him ache, all the way up to your hips, where he flipped your skirt up. He wasted no time grabbing the edge of your panties, backing up to pull them down your legs. You opened up a little more for him, soaked pussy on full display. He was dreaming, he was dreaming, he was dreaming. He experimentally brought his fingers up to spread your lips apart, precum dripping out of you. He almost passed out, but that was the last thing he needed to start his mission.

Choso brought his lips down to your pussy, lapping up all of your juices, then fucking his tongue into you. You were moaning, body arching as you found your fingers in his hair. Fuck you tasted good. He brought his tongue to your clit, circling the bud slowly, making the most out of this situation and simultaneously making you whimper.

“Choso….”

You sounded so fucking good. Every moan of his name went straight to his dick, which was looking to rub against anything to get some relief. He brought his fingers up and slipped them inside you, making you groan loudly. He explored your walls carefully, but it wasn’t until he curled his fingers that he really got a rise out of you.

“Fuck, right there, don’t stop!”

He was a damn good listener. He pumped his fingers in and out of you as your body jerked, begging to cum. He was in disbelief; he was the one making you feel like this. Moan like this. Cum like this. It came hard, fingers gripping his hair in a way that brought him out of his hazy state. And fuck, as you came down, you rutted your pussy against his tongue, mouth still opened and eyes rolled back. Choso was in fucking heaven. You were panting on his bed, half-naked, back still arched; you were a sight to see. You began to come back to earth, sitting up on your hands again, pussy most likely staining the sheets, but it’s not like he fuckin' cared.

“Come here.”

Your usual bubbly demeanor left the second you came, grabbing Choso by his shirt and bringing him down to kiss you. You opened your legs so he could position himself between them, kissing him intensely now. Instinctively, he brought his hand up to your tits, groping them through the fabric of your shirt, pinching your nipple once he found it. He ruts his hips against yours, making you groan into his mouth. Fuck, you were so hot, all of his senses were filled with you, he was gonna lose his-

I know I'd rather be complacent.

He fucking came on himself. Simultaneously, your phone began to ring, the same tone as the other day when Mai called you. With a pout, you walked over to his desk to grab your phone. God, he praised himself for wearing back sweats that day. Luckily for him, it didn’t seem you noticed, picking up the phone and smiling. Just like that, you were back to your usual self.

“Hey, hey!”

Mai said something to you as Choso went to his drawer, already looking for a set of underwear and pants to replace the ones he accidentally soaked. You were pouting now, tilting your head to the side as you talked to her.

“But Maiiii, I’m doing something super important!”

You looked at him from head to toe, smirking as you continued talking. Fuck, what were you guys talking about?

“Ugh, fine, but you owe me! See you in a bit.”

You hung up the phone and walked over to him, a sad look on your face as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your head into his chest.

“You gotta go?”

“Yeah, but I really don’t want to!”

“It’s fine. You should be ready for the test on Thursday.”

You bent over to pick up your purse and books again; this time, he really couldn’t look because he knew his dick would probably betray him. You put your heels back on, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

“Bye, cutie!”

“Um, bye.”

Choso took a shower as soon as you left, in which he had to relieve himself from the events of today. It’s like he couldn’t get your taste you out of his head; every time he tried to focus on his essay, you were there. It didn’t help when he found your thong on the floor beside his bed. Shit, he hadn’t even thought to put them back on you. Quickly, he texted you, letting you know you forgot them.

“oopsie :3 consider them a gift ;)”

Fuck, you were dangerous.

Girl, I'm so glad we're acquainted.

Baby, you're no good.

“YOU DID WHAT?”

“Shut the fuck up, you're gonna wake the whole hall!”

“Let me get this straight, you fucked her?”

“No, yes, well, not exactly. I, you know…”

“Awe shit, she sucked your-”

“NO, YUUJI, JESUS.”

“So, what did you- Holy shit, you gave her head!”

Choso became flustered, never really having a conversation with Yuuji about his sex life, but Yuuji was more than open about his.

“Yes, I gave her head.”

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up! You’re too damn loud!”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s not like I didn’t believe in you or anything, but a girl like that? I probably would’ve cum on myself.”

Now, Choso knew you were busy, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to see you again. He’d remembered everything you said you had to do, so he figured he’d talk to you again at Nobara’s party. He was initially going because Nobara was a mutual friend through Yuuji, but now, he had a way better reason. You guys had seen each other around the halls Thursday, you giving him a wink every time you saw him, and he’d return it with a blush and grin. He hadn’t texted you either, trying to be considerate of your time, but as Friday afternoon came along, you appeared to be distant with him. He was nervous at this point. What if he was over-analyzing things? Just a quick fuck to get each other’s rocks off? Then, unfortunately, the thought came to mind that maybe you had realized he came on himself, which hurt his feelings pretty bad. I mean, he couldn’t help it; spontaneous oral on the girl he’d liked for months now, he was already in bad shape to begin with. But, fuck, he missed you.

All my homies think I'm crazy 'cause I'm thinkin' 'bout us lately.

Nobara’s party could be heard down the street, some AirBnb, all your sisters put in on. Choso couldn’t lie; it was pretty nice, a large house with at least eight bedrooms, a pool and basketball court in the back, and balconies on almost every window. He and Yuuji had shuffled their way into the house, Yuuji immediately looking for something to drink that was far from water. Once he found a bottle of tequila, he poured him and Choso a couple of shots, both throwing them back like it was nothing. Yuuji seemed to know everyone at this party, sparking conversation with damn near anyone that walked by. He and Choso found their way to the backyard, sitting in the little patio section next to the pool.

“So, did you text her yet?”

“No, I’m pretty sure she’s upset with me about something.”

“Cause she’s been giving you the silent treatment?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, she’s obviously not giving it to him.”

But really, if I could, I'd forget about you.

Yuuji pointed to you on the other side of the pool, talking to some guy. You held a cup, presumably with alcohol, but what you were wearing was the kicker. You hadn’t bothered to wear a top, just your string bikini covering your tits, which wasn’t doing a very good job of covering them up. Then there were your shorts; they were basically underwear with how high they came up, the underside of your ass on display. You were leaning into the guy, obviously in deep conversation. The guy, however, was getting an eyeful; he couldn’t even make eye contact with you because he was staring so intently at your chest. 

You got me puttin' time in.

Choso couldn’t lie, it pissed him off real bad. He couldn’t tell if it was because you were talking to this guy and not him or because the guy was looking at you so inappropriately; it wasn’t like he was one to talk. But his jaw locked as he saw the guy slip a hand onto your waist as you stumbled a bit, and you didn’t stop him.

“She’s free to do what she wants.”

“Yeah, she’s doin’ what she wants, alright. Your face was in her pussy on Wednesday, and she’s probably gonna do the same to him tonight.”

Nobody got me feeling this way.

Yuuji’s comment had put a fire under Choso’s ass. Immediately, he got up from where he and Yuuji sat, heading straight towards you.

“Told you, you were jealous, bitch!”

Now, Choso wasn’t the confrontational type, but three shots in, he felt a little bit of that liquid courage. He’d closed the gap between the patio and the pool quickly, focused on getting to you; as he walked up, he could hear you giggling at whatever that fucker was saying. You turned your head in surprise, an awkward smile on your face as Choso grabbed your arm.

“Gonna borrow her right quick.”

Choso could hear the guy cursing him out in confusion as he walked away with you, but if anyone was confused, it was you.

You got me touchin' on your body….

Choso led you up the stairs as you rushed to keep up, spilling your drink a bit. He found an empty bedroom, walked you into it, and locked it behind him.

“Choso, what the actual fuck?”

“What are you doing, huh?”

“What am I doing? What am I doing? Motherfucker, what are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you haven’t talked to me in days. Then you pull me in here, like I’m the bad guy or something, fuck, did eating me out mean anything to you?”

“Of course it did! I haven’t texted you because I wanted to give you space!”

“I could’ve made time for you! I don’t wanna hear your shitty excuses as to-”

To say that we're in love is dangerous…

Your sentence was cut short by Choso pulling you into a kiss. You were fucking mad at him, sure, but you wanted to fuck him more than anything. That’s why you let him lay you on the bed behind you, mouth coming to kiss you, even deeper this time. He pulled back to undo your top, allowing your tits free.

“So, who the fuck was that?”

He brought his lips down to your nipple, sucking it as you moaned softly.

“A friend, what are you, jealous?”

He sucked the other one, massaging your tits as you watched him intently.

“Depends.”

“On?”

But, girl, I'm so glad we're acquainted.

Choso began to move his way down, sucking the skin of your stomach as he brought his hands down to hook into your shorts. He had them down to your ankles, pulling them off of you.

“I’m your friend too, no?”

“Something like that.”

He undid the strings on your bikini, throwing them somewhere in the room. He brought his face down to you, kissing your inner thighs to tease you.

“You let all your friends eat your pussy?”

Ever since I met you, I couldn't believe what you did.

You couldn’t answer his question, body reacting to the kitten licks he was giving your clit. Choso was a bit more familiar with you now; he knew you liked it when he fucked you with his tongue and that you moan a little harder when he pressed his tongue harder on our bud. But, god, you were intoxicating. He missed the taste of your pre-cum on his lips, shamelessly saturating his whole face with your juices. That is until he pulled his face back, teasing you.

“Answer me, princess.”

“No, I don't.”

That made him hungry, greedy even. His face was back on you, fucking his tongue into you as he pinned your hips down, watching you squirm from the pleasure. The pleasure he was giving you.

Choso picked up the pace of his tongue, his fingers finding their way to your pussy, curling them as he sucked on your clit. One hand still on your hips to keep you still; it was all in vain because when you came, your body came undone. You buck your hips into his touch, moaning his name as you let him suck you through your high. You were fucking beautiful. He pulled up to look at you, smirking as he saw your tits rise and fall from all the panting you were doing. He figured it wasn’t too bad to give you another orgasm; you looked so fucking hot coming down that he couldn’t resist drinking your cum as he brought his thumb to your clit. You were on fucking fire, still recovering from before, and now he was bringing you up to his face. He pinned you down, devouring you instantly.

Now, Choso felt a little adventurous, bringing his hands up to rub your nipples between his fingers while you fucked his face. You didn’t know where all this nerve came from, presumably because he’s made you cum twice now, the third one about to join. But you honestly didn’t give a fuck. If he had the balls to eat you as good as he was doing, you could care less. Because his tongue was just too damn distracting. You began to grind your pussy on his face, not even considering his ability to breathe; it’s not like he was concerned about it. You were moaning his name like a symphony, pulling them out of you more frequently as you felt your body giving in again.

“Choso, I’m, I, fuck!”

So comfort me…

Choso smirked into your pussy as you came, falling over onto the bed immediately. He was kissing you now, soft and sweet, like he didn’t intend to fuck the shit out of you. With a careful hand, he brought your leg up, pulling it away from the other so he could get in between them. He enjoyed the view of you, spent and gasping for air, bucking your hips slowly as you waited for him to fuck you. As he began removing his clothes, he continued this little conversation.

“Hm, that doesn’t make sense then, does it?”

“You’re more than a friend, Choso.”

At this point, he’d taken everything but his boxers off, dick almost stabbing out the front of his briefs. He took them off quickly, bringing his body back up to sit on top of yours. He kissed you as he fingered your pussy again, making you squirm under his touch. Messily, he brought your cum out of your pussy, rubbing it over his shaft as he looked down at you.

“More than a friend, huh?”

Choso kissed your neck as he slid his dick in, holding your hips as he rolled his into yours. He was painfully slow, pulling out to sink back in. Fuck, it was torture.

“Yes, Choso! Now fuck me, please!”

“No problem.”

He slammed his hips into yours, making you groan. He gripped you tightly as he fucked you, forehead meeting yours so he could see your pretty face as you took him so well.

 “When was the last time you got fucked?”

“Months ago.”

“So, you decided you just wanted me to eat your pussy one day?”

He began that slow pace again, scratching his back as he reached the deepest parts of you.

“No, I liked you for a while! Thought you didn’t like me ‘til I met you in the library!”

He couldn’t fucking believe it. This entire time you’d been waiting for him to make a move, and he was too fucking pussy to do it. Well, he’ll make it up to you now by fucking your pussy. He hit that sweet spot inside you as you moved your hips to meet his, hands brushing through his hair as he gave it to you right where you needed him. And god, you were sexy. You pressed your tits against his chest as he fucked you into the bed, practically screaming his name every time he’d give you a hard thrust to get a rise out of you.

“I want you, princess.”

To be fair, you hadn’t really entertained any of the guys who wanted you; they’d just ogle you, but you wanted someone who’d claim you. Make you his. And Choso was doing it. He fucked you like no one had ever done before, sucking hickeys all over you that you were sure you didn’t have enough concealer to cover up. Then, there was the way he’d moan into your ear. Sometimes your name, but mostly baby, princess, beautiful. He was taking you higher and higher, and you didn’t wanna come down.

“Then, I’m yours.”

Ain't no rush from me.

That was enough for Choso. He fucked you faster, keeping your hips still so he could fuck you how you needed it. Your body was practically begging to cum again, all but throwing yourself at him. He prayed you’d cum soon because he’d be down for the count here shortly, panting into the side of your neck as he took you. And take you, he did, gripping his shoulders as you moaned his name into the room, eyes rolling back and mouth wide open as you came for the third time that night. You honestly didn’t know you had it in you, nor did Choso, because he was right behind you, gripping the headboard as he fucked you through his orgasm, whimpering your name as he fell to pieces inside you. Your pussy was like fucking heaven, taking his cum so well as your hands fell to your side, too fucked out to move.

I’ll keep on touchin' on your body. To say that we're in love is dangerous…

Choso fell beside you, exhausted as ever. He was grateful he’d taken precautionary measures and relieved himself before he came to the party cause he surely would’ve cum the second he felt your pussy. He looked over at you; he could tell you were pretty damn tired; who wouldn’t be after he made you cum so many times. So, he helped you put your clothes back on, carrying you down the stairs and out to his car. He shot Yuuji a text to let him know he was leaving, choosing to leave out the details of what he had been doing for the past hour and a half. After getting you in the car, he got in the driver’s seat and started it.

“Ima take ya home, okay?”

You perked up a little, grabbing his arm and wrapping around it.

“Wanna go home with you!”

“Whatever ya want, princess.”

Choso gripped your thigh as he drove off, returning to his dorm. He carried you to his room, removing your clothes and helping you get into one of his t-shirts. Both of you in the bed, he pulled you into his chest, letting you get comfortable. You look up at him, smiling a bit as you yawn.

“Night, baby!”

You kissed him quickly and laid back down, drifting off to sleep.

‘Baby’, huh? He could get used to that.

But, girl, I'm so glad we're acquainted.

♱ the song used in this story is acquainted by the weeknd. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #38: Occam’s Razor

Masterlist

content: escape attempt, stabbing

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Heather was asleep. Jackie felt terrible, but his coat was already on, so he couldn't look back now.

At least the packing was light. His book, an apple, a pencil and paper-pad, and the rolled up dollar bill he had found on Matthew’s corpse. It felt wrong to leave his entire life behind and take only that paltry selection, but he didn’t know what else to bring. Jackie didn’t want to steal any more from Heather. She might deserve it, sure, but she had been exceptionally sweet to him lately. It didn’t feel right to steal. And he didn’t know where she kept her money, which was what he really needed. Her clothes and things were useless to him.

Because money made the world go ‘round, and it also got you a full tank of gas. But the lack of it didn’t deter him. Heather’s car had enough fuel for a day or two. That was enough. Jackie had found her keys on the table. He was in no state to walk very far or fast, but a car could get him miles away within a few minutes. 

After that, he could try going back to his old apartment. There were people who knew him, even if they were indifferent. Maybe someone would give him a little more money, a phone call, a place to sleep at the very least. But the first step was the car, which was conveniently located in the parking lot just outside the hotel.

It was still betrayal. She would hate him for this. It won’t sink her, he reasoned. It’s not going to kill her. She has enough money to buy a new car and, besides, I’m sure she’ll appreciate the silence when I’m not here. He didn’t mean any harm. It was necessary. It was survival. It was tragic, yes, but inevitable. It was Occam’s razor—his reasoning wasn’t impossible to understand. 

His backpack was slung over his shoulder. His coat was all buttoned down. The sky went pale outside the window, only visible through a gap of curtain, striped by long strings of clouds. The hotel room was dark and hushed. He could hear every little breath Heather took.

Her face was obscured by the pillow. She slept on her stomach, or her side, he had discovered. She took silvery breaths, in and out. Her black hair was messed up by sleep, scattered across the soft white cotton. Her chest rose and fell, though it was hard to see from a distance. Jackie was only across the room, but he already felt so far away.

Au revoir. There was no time to waste on words. Ne parles pas, s'il te plaît. Ç’est adieu. If she woke up, he could spit out an excuse, but the window of escape would slam shut on his fingers. So his goodbyes would have to be silent thoughts and prayers. 

Indeed, it was a good time to start praying. Though he believed in nobody watching him and nothing after death, it was worth a try. He closed his eyes for a long moment. 

Heather didn’t stir. She didn’t make a sound.

It was a sign from God: hurry up, idiot. Hallelujah. Amen. So he opened the door. It creaked, and he winced, but she didn’t move an inch. 

Jackie stepped out the doorway. He walked into the hallway. She was still asleep. 

He closed the door. Excuses would be a little less believable, now, but he could still make them. He could go back, if he wanted. Tap out. But nothing worthwhile was ever easy, so he needed to just bite the bullet and get on with it.

There was nobody else there. The walls were plain white. There was some kind of stereotypical hotel pattern on the carpet, some kind of odd hexagon checkerboard. A dreamy feeling permeated the air. He made his way to the stairs, though every footstep felt like walking through liquid lead. 

His journey came in bursts in starts, stopping and taking breaks more often than he would like. He paused for an entire minute on the second floor because his vision went white—Heather told him why it happened, at some point, but he couldn’t remember now—and he had to blink the hotel back into view. For a while after that, he felt lightheaded. But it was a fairly uneventful walk otherwise.

He entered the lobby itself. Rather unimpressive, compared to the last few, but cozy. There were a few soft and worn sofas. No aquarium, but there was a water fountain, and a receptionist busy with a stack of loose-leaf papers.

It was otherwise empty, and completely quiet. And he wasn’t getting any younger. Jackie adjusted his backpack again, then he pushed the lobby doors open.

Outside. Good Lord. Out in the cold air without Heather. It pierced his lungs, scratched at his throat, vivid and pure. At this point, his hypothetical excuses were sounding more like desperate apologies. He would promise to never try anything like this ever again, plead and beg, maybe shed a few tears. But it was time to stop thinking of hypotheticals. This was really happening. He needed to focus.

His steps crunched through thin ice, which was scattered all over the sidewalk. The snow was starting to melt, though the weather was never predictable in that regard. Thinking of these things kept him moving, kept him from breaking down and cowering on the concrete, and kept him walking to the parking lot. 

There was nobody else there but himself. The concrete was cracking and the painted lines were chipping away. Weeds sprouted through all the potholes. Beyond a picket fence, there was a perfect view of the street, which was just as run-down and empty.

So this was his great Houdini trick. It wasn’t that exciting. There was not much to see. The sky was getting a bit more color in its complexion. It was faintly cobalt now. His mouth tasted of the cold air. 

Birds sang. Branches rustled, though they were quiet in the absence of their leaves. There were a few houses, down the block and up past the stores, although this was mainly a commercial block. A tailor’s, an antiques shop, a restaurant, lined up one after the other. But nobody was around. It was making him nervous.

He reached into his coat’s pocket and dug out the car key. He unlocked the doors. Although it was a faint sound, he could hear how the mechanisms clicked into place inside. He pulled the handle, and it opened without resistance. 

A pigeon landed on a faraway telephone wire. He turned his head, just for a second. No, it was too sleek, too dark to be a dove. Too haughty. It was a crow, or a raven. Something ominous, anyway. It spread its great fanned tail and set about fixing its feathers up. 

There was something comforting in that, the compulsive grooming of a bird, the repetition and the routine, the preemptive fluffing of wings before it flew—

“Turn around, Jackie.”

It had the effect of being pushed into an electrical fence, or being plunged into ice water. That overwhelming first shock. His throat closed up. His heart appeared to simply stop beating. 

And he knew this wouldn’t work. It never did. He would never be anything more than what he was—whatever that was, a rat or a doll, whatever you wanted to call it. This was a terrible, terrible mistake, and now it was time to pay the cost of ever wanting anything more.

“I didn’t tell you to ignore me. Turn around.”

Her voice was remarkably calm, which meant that Jackie was going to have nightmares about this for months. He turned around, though every bone in his body told him to run, though even the marrow and the soft tissue resisted his obedience, every nerve and muscle. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Heather, so he stared at the concrete instead. Cracks of gray, pieces of gravel and sharp edges.

“You’re so selfish," she said. “After everything I’ve done for you—“

“I can explain, I swear. This isn’t what it looks like.” He stepped closer to the car, as if that would help at all. This wasn’t supposed to happen. There were no rules here, no games to win. This was failure by default. The trap had already snapped shut. 

“Then explain. Right now.”

He stuttered. “It’s—I—It’s not—“ He glanced around. Maybe if he ran—

“Don’t you dare move.” She shoved him further against the car, held him trapped there between the metal frame and her presence. 

“I just…” He couldn’t come up with anything. “Heather. Please. Don’t make a scene, we’re in public.”

“I don’t care. I’ll scream. Don’t test me.” He believed her. There was nobody around to help, anyway. It was too early in the morning. “Tell me why you did it.”

Jackie had completely blanked out. His body had gone numb, nerve impulses all dead in their tracks. It was like he couldn’t even think, like he couldn’t perceive anything beyond his immediate senses—it was like he wasn’t even there, that this was a dream. He certainly had many dreams like this. None of them were very reassuring. But he didn’t have an answer for her.

“Fine.” She placed something at his throat, something small and sharp. Faintly, he recognized it as her Swiss Army knife. “We’ll discuss this at home.”

Home sweet home. How had she found him? Did the receptionist talk, or did she follow him that whole time? Jackie thought he would faint, but he managed to look up. He barely registered the action. He barely registered what she had said, and later on he wouldn’t remember that part at all. 

What he remembered was this: he saw the hotel windows. He hadn’t thought about them. They overlooked the parking lot. Anyone could see him perfectly clearly, and nobody except for Heather was awake. The curtains of their room had been drawn—roughly drawn, torn aside. He felt his stomach drop. 

He felt Heather’s hand on his wrist, felt his heart beating faster and faster, each breath shallow and rough and short. He didn’t want to go home. 

Heather had him pinned, but the street was only a short distance away. He tried to run. He pushed away with all the strength in his body. 

That only left him exhausted and got him stabbed straight through the throat. He hit his head against the car’s frame. He attempted to inhale, felt the warm bubble of blood, felt the pain of his flesh and failing lungs, and began coughing uncontrollably instead. Her grip on his wrist was too tight. He couldn’t pull himself away. 

Jackie was down on the ground before he could stop sputtering blood—gravel dug into his face—his wrists, pulled behind his back and bound with the cuffs—he tasted metal stinging his tongue, the roof of his mouth, and he could not breathe at all—something along his ankles, as well, and now there was a gag in his mouth. Not a chiffon scarf, this time. Something rougher, tasting of detergent. She did it all so quickly, without hesitation, like she was gutting fish.

As soon as it began, it was over. The world tilted, then something slammed shut. He did not have the energy to struggle. Jackie closed his eyes.

Pain came in heavy waves, all over his body, fading away as his pulse slowed. He exhaled and did not inhale again. Consciousness left him in privacy. One last comfort before… whatever happened next. 

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