#took ages but I think they turned out great

[mysticarcanespellbook]

"You're nodding off again, Azrael," I said, prodding him awake.

The elf awoke with a start, his long golden hair whipping--no, that was too quick for what it did--floating, somehow, back behind his head as he suddenly straightened up and leaned forward, his golden eyes scanning something in the dirt I could not see. Content with whatever it was, he leaned back in his camp chair, and yawned, making a sound not unlike that of a mourning dove.

"I was merely meditating. You disturbed my trance." His voice was mellow, yet commanding. "Besides, even if I did fall asleep, I'd still be able to focus on my task. Magic elf powers, you know." He flashed me a grin, his teeth almost blindingly white against his rosy skin.

I stood up and stretched. "Humans do similar things sometimes. I've gone to bed and dreamed solutions to my problems a time or two. Can't solve them until I wake up, though." I walked over to the wood pile and grabbed a few logs, then winced as their bark scraped against my palms. "Like fueling our fire, for instance. I'm not exactly the sleepwalking type."

"Arcane problems can be solved in any state of mind," replied the elf, "so long as you're thinking about them." He turned his head to face me, then studied me as I brought the logs to the fire. "You should try it sometime. Then maybe you can kick your coffee addiction."

I ignored him. "This should get us enough flame to last another hour or two. Let's hope you can complete your ritual by then." I walked to the folding table we set up by our tent and grabbed my kettle. "Boiling some water won't break it, will it?"

"It shouldn't," said Azrael. "The only things the Lady specified was focus, firelight, and time." He yawned, a sound like the wind gently whistling past a cave. "I have plenty of all three."

He didn't sound convincing. I brought my kettle to the water cooler, a big orange plastic barrel that had seen many a camping trip. I filled the kettle and walked across the crunchy brown grass towards Azrael, who was now tracing invisible symbols in the air with his finger. "Well," I replied, "I'm not quite as alert as you elven folk, so you'll have to forgive my indulgence." I set the kettle down on the ground for a moment and took my fire gloves out of my jacket pockets. Putting them on, I grabbed the kettle and hung it on the spit above the flames.

No quips from Azrael this time. His ritual demanded his attention, apparently. It made sense, though. I had seen the way the other high elves sneered at him, the way they looked at his attempts at magic the way a businessman might look at a toddler singing in his office--with a mixture of amusement and irritation, as if his attempts were cute, but a waste of valuable time.

He told me once, what the point of the thing was. Some sort of coming-of-age ritual. It was supposed to reveal to him what his purpose was, and awaken any latent power that could drive him towards it. I had told him at the time that he was lucky, since humans had to figure out their purpose all on their own, with no magic to help them at all. The look on his face when I said it made me wish I hadn't.

It was the seventh time I had gone out with him to figure this out, and it certainly didn't feel any different: just like every time before, the sky was steel gray, the wind was gentle but bitterly cold, and the grass had long since gone from soft to brittle. It was going to snow soon, and I could feel it. The only comforts I had, standing out in this field with my friend, were the warmth of the flame, the promise of a hot coffee, and the knowledge that whatever happened, at least Azrael wasn't facing this alone.

The kettle began steaming. I left the warmth of the flame once again and went back to the table to get the instant coffee, which I carefully took the lid off of before pouring a measured scoop into my empty thermos.

Azrael spoke up again, breaking our relative silence. "What's so great about coffee, anyway?"

"It depends on what you like. Some people like the caffeine content." He scowled at this, but I continued. "Others like it for the earthy taste. I prefer having a hot drink that ain't just hot water." I went back to the kettle, which was now whistling loudly. "Any of those sound appealing?"

The elf laughed, dropping his hands into his lap. "Come on, Rob, you know that nothing you can say will ever get me to try one of your human drugs. It wouldn't even do a thing to me."

"Which is exactly why I offered," I replied. "You look practically frozen, and as much as you are 'one with the natural world' or whatever, I highly doubt you want to warm up by drinking hot water on its own." I carefully removed the kettle and brought it to the table. "At least give it a taste, and that way you can definitively say that your drink of choice is superior. Surely you wouldn't pass up the chance to lord your superiority over me?" It was my turn to flash a grin his direction before filling my thermos almost to the top. Not that he saw it; he was too busy looking at the ground again. I sighed, set the kettle on the ground next to the table and screwed the lid of my thermos back on.

"Something hot would be nice, actually." Azrael yawned again, then continued, "Perhaps this day might not be a total waste."

I shook the thermos, mixing up its contents, and popped the top open. I was immediately assailed by that strange burnt scent that instant coffee seems to have. Not the best coffee, and far from it. I regretted not bringing any cream or sugar or anything at all that could make it better. Still, I liked black coffee well enough, and instant coffee isn't the worst thing on mornings like this. I grabbed a couple of paper cups and poured some coffee in each before closing the lid and walking back, coffees in hand.

"Sorry in advance, it's not freshly ground and is definitely going to taste strange," I said. "People also usually put something in it to lessen the bitterness, or to make it sweet before they--"

I wasn't able to finish my sentence before Azrael snatched his cup from my hand, nearly spilling some coffee in the process. "Enough warning; I know what I'm getting into," he said before chugging the whole scalding-hot drink in one go. He wiped his mouth and tossed the cup into the flames.

He sighed. "That wasn't half-bad, Rob. Kind of reminds me of the way dirt tastes, and obviously the warmth is really nice. I can see why some people might drink this even without the caffeine."

A gentle gust of wind blew on the flames as I sat down, pushing the smoke towards me, then Azrael, then away from us. I shut my eyes tightly against the smoke until it passed. Azrael, on the other hand, went back to tracing in the air, unfazed by the smoke that surely clouded his vision. I sipped at my coffee, enjoying each hot sip as I finished it off. I tossed the cup in the fire and leaned back in my chair.

We sat in silence around the fire for only a couple more minutes before suddenly Azrael leaped out of his chair with the force of a bullfrog and the grace of a jaguar. He began pacing rapidly, his eyes flitting back and forth between spots on the ground and in the air. "What's wrong, Az? Are you feeling okay?"

"No. No, I am not. I'm certain it's that blasted coffee. I feel shaken up, like--like some sort of cyclone. I can hear my heart in my skull and I can feel my blood flowing through my feet. I feel like I can see the whole world, and like I can sprint across it without breathing. It's a wonderful and terrible feeling all at once. I feel--by Gaia, I see it!"

One second later, green symbols appeared faintly on the ground and in the air where he had been looking, growing slowly stronger until they looked like I could reach right out and grab one. They then floated towards Azrael until they were maybe a foot out before stopping and spinning slowly around him. Eventually they started picking up speed, becoming so fast that they looked like solid green rings. I couldn't make sense of what was happening, but Azrael stood in the center of it all, basking in the power that these symbols must surely be holding. His eyes were closed and his head was tilted back, and he wore the biggest smile I'd ever seen him have. Eventually, the magic rings faded, and he opened his eyes and stared into the sky.

"So, you have it then? You know your purpose?"

He looked back at me. "Yes. And I might know yours, too. Come on, we need to pack up." He ran to the kettle and picked it up with his bare hands before pouring the water over the fire, dousing the logs somewhat. Before I knew it he was grabbing our water cooler and dumping the contents in the pit as well.

I gathered the contents of the table and put them in a box to take to our car before folding the table up and taking it in one hand. Azrael, somehow even faster than ever, swooped in and got the box in one hand, the other hand somehow effortlessly carrying the now-empty water cooler, and both camp chairs and our tent in their bags slung haphazardly across his shoulders. "Geez, dude," I remarked, "that coffee sure gave you a boost."

"You don't know the half of it," Azrael replied, his breath somehow not at all ragged. "The Lady must know of this miracle. I thank you, friend, for giving me the alertness I so desperately needed to get this spell to work."

"S-Sure, anytime," I said before stumbling towards my car. "Just let me know if there's anything else I can help you with."

"Actually, there are two things." Azrael dropped the cooler and snapped his fingers. At this, everything we had brought with us suddenly started floating towards the trunk, carefully arranging themselves inside as if they had minds of their own. "One, please join me this weekend in the house of the Noble Ones."

An invitation to the Elven Land? And not just anywhere, but the Lady's residence? "I couldn't! Surely a human would be out of place in such a high court?"

"Nonsense," he laughed, "you are my guest, and I can have whoever I wish with me to celebrate such an important day! Please come with me, I insist," he cried, his eyes piercing me with a gaze stronger than steel.

Oh, what the heck. It's the weekend anyway, and I didn't have anyone at home to worry about. "Fine. I'll go with you, but I need to stop by home to get some more formal clothing."

"Excellent! They'll be delighted to meet the one who gave me my breakthrough. Oh, I can feel my heart swell with joy at the thought! Or maybe that's the caffeine, but I don't care! This is just marvelous!"

"Okay, okay!" I laughed along with him. "I'm going already!" We got into the car and I turned the key in the ignition. "Anyway, what was that second thing?"

"Oh, right," he replied sheepishly. "The second thing."

"Come on, what is it?" I asked as I shifted into drive.

"Alright, alright. Ah, er, when we get into town again..."

"Spit it out, my coffee hasn't kicked in yet."

"About that. When we get into town again, would you mind taking me to the cafe on main street? I really want to try one of those 'espressos' I've heard so much about."

Elves have never been affected by narcotics, making elves incredibly judgmental of human drug use. However, one special human drug is the exception, affecting elves far more than any other creature: caffeine.

[atlntiic]

Babysitting - Leon S. Kennedy.

Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!reader

Summary: Your dad asks his most loyal friend to look out for you on a Friday night, but being the little brat you are, Leon decides to teach you a lesson.

CW:  18+, mdni!, smut, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v, degrading, swearing, age gap, dad's friend!leon, and squirt.

3.3k words

a/n: I tried.

“I really don’t see why it’s such a big deal to be alone for one night,” you say, crossing your arms and glaring at your dad with annoyance in your voice.

It’s Friday night. Your dad has plans to have dinner with his new girlfriend, and you thought it would be the perfect opportunity to sneak out and party with your friends.

But, of course, the man standing in front of you knows you too well. As punishment, he’s decided to call a backup, his friend, to babysit you for the night.

“I know you’re up to something,” your dad says, putting on his coat as he gets ready to leave. “Leon will be here soon, so behave.” Shooting you a harsh look.

“What?! Leon? Why him?” you blurt out, your voice rising in to protest.

your dad raises an eyebrow, “Because I trust him to keep an eye on you. And don’t start with the attitude. I’ve already had enough of that this week,” he replies firmly, adjusting his coat and looking in the mirror.

You flop onto the couch, arms crossed tightly. You couldn’t stand Leon. He was awkward, bossy, and way too strict about rules. He acted like he was in charge of everything and always treated you like you didn’t have a brain, making teasing comments every time he was around and making you sound like a child.

And the worst part? That one time he caught you kissing a guy and immediately told your dad. You still hadn’t forgiven him for embarrassing you like that.

You disliked him—no, you hated him. Every time with him felt like a war for you, never missing an opportunity to snap back at him, making sure he understood just how much you’d rather jump off a cliff than spend even a single second in his presence.

The sound of the front door closing snaps you back to reality. Great. Leon was on his way, and your night was officially ruined.

You groan in frustration and sigh heavily.

After your dad left, you paced around the room, running your hands through your hair, messing it up as you tried to think of a plan. There had to be a way to get out of this situation.

Escaping was impossible. With Leon around, he’d notice you were gone in a blink, and you weren’t in the mood for another lecture or punishment from your dad.

So...what could you do?

The doorbell rings, snapping you out of your thoughts. You pause for a moment, sighing before walking toward the door. Taking a deep breath, you grip the handle and pull it open.

Leon’s tall figure fills the doorway, and your eyes, for a moment, trail over him. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a tight black compression shirt that clings to his big chest and arms, making his biceps look even bigger than you remembered.

Not that you ever noticed his big figure so often...right?

Your eyes finally meet his. His sharp blue eyes are already fixed on you, filled with annoyance. “Took you long enough,” he says, his tone serious.

You roll your eyes at him, feeling the irritation rising up from his stupid comment. Not even thirty seconds in, and he’s already managed to get under your skin. Guess that’s a special talent of his.

“Sorry, old hag,” you shoot back, your voice full of sarcasm.

He laughs, a low sound, and a smirk forms at the corner of his lips. “Eighteen-year-old girls don’t usually need babysitters. Guess you’re a special case.”

Your cheeks flush with heat. Embarrassment surges through you as you turn away, quickly walking back to the living room and leaving him standing at the door.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid Leon,” you think to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for letting him get to you so easily. He closes the door behind him and follows you, setting his things down on the table.

You turn to him again as he settles onto the couch. You clear your throat before speaking, “Why did you even agree to this shit?"

Leon didn’t seem like the type to do favors like this—babysitting? Really?

He doesn’t respond right away, pausing as if considering his words. Finally, he shrugs. “Your father asked me to. I couldn’t say no.”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with the answer. “Why not? You could’ve easily said no.”

“Yeah,” he says, pausing for a moment before adding, “I owed him, so to clear the debt, I’m taking care of you.”

He turns his eyes to you, looking you up and down

You scoff, “I don’t need you to take care of me, Kennedy. I'm big enough already.” You cross your arms tightly over your chest, the movement making your boobs shift slightly.

His eyes fell on them for a split second, the silence thick between you. After a moment, his lips curl into a slight smirk. “Well, that’s not what your daddy thinks,” he says, voice low and a little too smug. “And honestly, I agree with him.”

You scoff, raising an eyebrow at him. “You can’t agree with him—you don’t even know me.”

“Let’s be honest—you’re irresponsible. It’s your fault your dad doesn’t trust you,” Leon shoots back, his tone sharp. “And I’ve been around long enough to see it.”

You rolled your eyes and without another word, you turn and storm upstairs to your room, footsteps heavy and quick. He’s impossible to deal with, and the anger surges in you.

You hear his chuckle echo behind you. It’s the kind of laugh that only makes you want to scream, but you bite your tongue, holding yourself.

You slam the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment to catch your breath. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you walk toward your bed, grabbing the towel that had been resting there. A shower might help calm your nerves down.

As you start to undress, the cold air hits your skin, sending a chill through your body, but you don’t mind. You pause in front of the mirror for a moment, your reflection staring back at you with eyes full of frustration. 

With a sigh, you step into the shower, letting the hot water run over you, the steam filling the room and helping you calm down, even if just a little.

As you wash yourself, your mind starts to trace ideas on how to get Kennedy to leave. But nothing really sticks, he’s too stubborn, too... present.

You turn off the shower, step out, grab the towel and begin drying yourself off, your mind still working through different ways to get rid of him. Maybe if you’re annoying enough, he gets frustrated and leaves, provoking him sounds like a good idea right now, especially since you'll get a bit of pleasure doing so.

You slip into an oversized shirt and panties. As you brush your hair, the sound of your stomach growling interrupts your thoughts. You pause for a second, hunger hitting you. Attending to your stomach needs, you make your way downstairs to the kitchen.

As you pass the living room, you spot Leon’s head over the back of the couch, his attention fixed on the TV as he sprawls lazily. You roll your eyes, ignoring him as you continue on your way to the kitchen.

Opening the fridge, you scan the shelves, looking for something to quiet the growl in your stomach.

The fridge was practically empty—just milk, eggs, and a few random items that wouldn’t make a proper meal. You stared at the shelves in disappointment, your stomach growling in protest.

Suddenly, you hear his voice behind you, making you jump. “Hungry?”

You jump and hit your head on the fridge door, letting out a small hiss and rubbing the spot on your forehead.

"What does it look like?” you snap, closing the fridge door and moving to the shelves to see if there’s anything worth it, only finding a ceral box. You grabbed whithout hesitation.

You hear him sigh from behind you. “Choose something. I’ll order it,” he says, clearly getting a little annoyed.

"Anything?" You asked, taking a spoon, but it fell from your hand under the counter. You curse in your mind as you bend down to take it.

Leon's response took a long moment as he watched you "Mhm."

You get up from the floor and turn to face him, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Can I order... fucking leave my house?” The words come out sharp.

He raises an eyebrow, surprised by your tone. “You’ve got a pretty nasty attitude,” he observes, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, so what?” you scoff.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes you in. Then, he simply says..."I might have to make you gag on my dick to clean it off."

Your whole body freezes, eyes widening in shock as your breath catches in your throat. “Y-you?!” The words die in your mouth, your mind racing to process what’s happening.

Before you can react, he approaches you quickly, his figure crowding over yours until your back hits the counter, trapping you in place.

His eyes lock onto yours with sharpness. “I’m tired of your little shits, this fucking brat attitude of yours every time,” he says, his voice low. With a quick motion, his hand moves to cup your face roughly, his grip hard, making you yelp.

"You need to learn your place and how to behave," he growls, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he forcefully grips your face. With his other hand, he grabs hold of your ass, letting a small gasp from you as he pulls you closer to him. His nose lightly brushed against yours, teasing you, feeling his warm breath against your lips, and then he kissed you hard, catching you off guard.

Kissing you with hunger, his hand running over your body as he tightens his grip and pulls you closer, feeling his whole body, eyes fluttering shut, you wrap your arms around his neck. A small groan escapes his lips, letting out a mumbling between the kiss, “Fucking slut.” sending shivers down your spine and making you let out a soft moan in response. 

A sudden wetness forms down your panties, a wave of need washing over you. Without warning, Leon lifts you up and carries you across the room, placing you on the couch before crawling over you.

With a devilish smirk, his hand slides down to your clothed pussy causing you to let out a yelp as he teasingly rubs at the wet spot sending shivers down your spine

A deep chuckle echoes from him, and with a mocking tone, "Wet already?" He teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he observes your flushed cheeks.

"Shut up." You hiss at him, the embarrassment creeping you.

He presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing with more pressure as a punishment from your snarky response, pushing another moan from your lips.

“Say it again,” he growls daring you.

As you opened your mouth, ready to shoot back at him, he cuts you off by rubbing your clit faster. 

You shut your eyes, biting your lip to keep the moans from escaping your lips not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing you.

Without any warning, he yanks your panties off, throwing them behind his shoulders somewhere on the floor. He spreads your legs apart, exposing your wet pussy to him. His finger slides through your dripping folds, causing you to twitch under the touch.

"Look at this," He holds his finger up to you, with your juices all over it in front of your face, and you feel a flush spread across your cheeks. He was taking pleasure in exposing how easily he made you wet.

"You're such a needy little slut," he whispers to you as he sucks on his finger, savouring your taste. His eyes close, and he lets out a quiet moan, feeling the sweet taste spreading to his mouth.

You whimper at the sight, driving you wild, craving for more of his touch. He turns you over onto your stomach, causing your back to arch, making your ass stick up in the air. His finger slides through your wetness, slipping between your folds and entering you.

A loud moan escapes your lips as you feel his finger moving in and out of you with a fierce speed. You try to squirm away from it but he keeps you still. He quickens his pace, adding yet another finger while using his thumb to rub your swollen clit.

“Don’t-ngh- like that” You cried out, as your body twisted with pleasure.

Leon's hand lands with a loud smack on your ass, leaving a red mark. You let out a cry of both pain and pleasure, squeezing your eyes shut to hold back a tear. “Shut the fuck up and take it. Aren't you the big girl you claim to be?" He snaps at you, mocking your “big girl” posture from a while ago.

As his fingers continue to thrust inside you, your juices begin to drip, and a tight coil starts to form in your stomach, causing your walls to clench around his fingers.

“Shit- Leon!” You cry out his name, “I’m gonna-” As you are about to come, he stops.

Your eyes fly open, whining, looking back at him, confused about why he stopped, before you can say anything, he smacks your ass, causing you to hiss at the pain, “Little nasty girls like you don't get to cum.'' He says sharply.

"What?! Why-" You try to argue, but before you can finish your sentence, Leon gets up from the couch and stands in front of you and pulling his cock free from his pants. 

You exhale sharply in surprise at his size, you didn't expect it to be so.. large, so ..thick. Being honest with yourself, you had imagined it would be small based on his personality and how much you disliked him. But this? How could it possibly fit inside you?

You opened your lips to say something to him, but he just plopped his cock right into your mouth and grabbing your hair. 

“Mmmm..Le-” You tried to back away, but he didn’t care, pushing your head down, forcing you to take him in your mouth and beginning to thrust in and out. Your saliva starts dripping down on his length.

He fucks your throat, his eyes fixed on you as you choke and gag around him. He groans in pleasure, admiring how swollen your lips are becoming as he trusts your mouth without mercy.

You groan as his cock reaches the back of your throat, "You're so much more enjoyable when you like this," he murmurs. You glance up and meet his gaze as he continues, “Not talking at all.”

Your expression turns angry, and he chuckles at you.

You use your tongue to swirl over his cock, sucking it as you move your head up and down, causing him to tilt his head back and release soft groans.

With one final thrust, he removes his cock from your mouth and playfully taps it against your lips.

You lean back on the couch as he reaches for your tights, pulling you closer to him. His tip slides through your slick folds, teasing your sensitive clit., “‘s too big Leon.." you whimper, unsure if it will even fit inside of you, “I don't-”.

He roughly thrusts into you without warning, a loud moan fell out, your eyes squeezing shut as the mixture of pain and pleasure wash over you, clenching around him tightly. He lets out a curse under his breath as he feels the tightness of your walls. "Fuck-, you're so tight," he hisses through gritted teeth.

He didn’t start slow, oh no, no, no, totally the opposite of that. Instead, he roughly thrusts himself inside of you, not even giving you time to adjust yourself.

Pulling your thighs apart to go even deeper, hips rolling with a high-speed, you couldn't help but let out loud moans, eyes rolling back in pleasure each time he hit that special spot inside of you.

“Leon, Leon, Leon..!” As you moan out his name, juices dripping down your inner tight, and Leon lets out a groan in response. He grabs your shirt with one hand, pulling it up to expose your breasts.

He hums as he grasps one of them harder, pinching your nipples and giving them the attention they deserve.

"Open your mouth," he commands, and you do it without hesitation.

He slides his fingers inside and orders you to suck on them, making sure they are wet with your spit before sliding them down to your clit. The pressure and pleasure become too intense for you to handle, and your body starts trembling as a wave of electricity runs through you. Your walls clench harder than before, and a tight coil forms in your stomach once again, more intense this time.

"Please," you beg him, meeting his eyes with pleading ones.

"Please what?" he asks with a smirk, knowing exactly what you want but wanting to play with you.

"I want to cum, Leon…please," you whine, but he stops his movements, thrusting into you slower as you cry out in frustration.

"I don't know…you don't deserve it." His hips continue to move slowly, torturing you once again. You grasp onto his arms desperately.

"Are you going to behave from now on?" he asks sternly. You nod your head in agreement, desperate for release. In response, he increases his speed slightly while continuing to rub your clit.

“Stop with the attitude?”

"Oh God, yes! Anything, just please…" You couldn't take it anymore. Satisfied with your answer, he goes back to thrusting roughly and fast, hitting perfectly your G-spot.

He leans against you, kissing your lips. "I wonder what your dad would think of this," he teases, mocking your messy self. "Seeing his little princess being fucked like the slut she is."

You whimper and shake your head. He plants soft kisses on your neck before leaning back to admire how your pussy swallows his cock completely, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "This pretty pussy of yours," he grunts as he thrusts into you.

Your body trembles and drool escapes from your mouth as your cunt clenches at the intense sensation, an unfamiliar feeling washing over you.

"W-wha-?" Your eyes roll back as you squirt all over him, the liquid dripping and spreading everywhere.

Leon lets out a low moan, his cock twitch inside you as your orgasm tightens around him. Your cunt clenches, milking him for every last drop of hot cum.

You bite your lip to stifle your moans as he pulls out, seeing his thick seed dribbling down from you.

Your eyes meet his, and your mind clears as you take in the moment. He reaches out and touches your cheek, caressing and planting a gentle kiss there. "Good girl."

“So, how was last night?” your dad asks casually, setting a plate of breakfast in front of you. You hesitate, your fork hovering over the eggs. The memories of the night flash through your mind, making your cheeks heat up slightly.

When you don’t respond, your dad turns his attention to Leon, who’s sitting across from you at the table. He’d stayed over since your dad didn’t get back until morning.

“Did she behave, Leon?” your dad asks with a curious smile.

Leon leans back in his chair, calm as ever, his blue eyes hovering over you. “Oh, yeah,” he says smoothly. “She behaved quite well. Didn’t you?”

Your face flushes instantly, the blush spreading across your cheeks as you quickly avert your gaze. You can only nod, avoiding his sly smirk

Your dad laughs, clearly interpreting the situation as innocent. “Well, I might have to call you more often, then.”

Leon chuckles, his tone soft but carrying a teasing hint. “ I'll be glad to help.”

[grifffins]

🔮 The Fool’s Journey (Into Trouble) 🔮 | Ch. 2

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

summary: Y/N makes a questionable purchase, endures an evening of coven induced chaos, and shares an unexpectedly nice breakfast.

wc: 8.5k (Chapter 2/?)

a/n: i'm not entirely happy with this chap, but ngl i have way too much fun writing the coven, I’m sorry. The first half of this chapter is definitely coven heavy (because they’re chaotic and I love them), but don’t worry, towards the end is all about Lilia. again this one’s super dialogue heavy, which i'm not used to but honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to cut any of it without hating myself. Just a quick heads-up, there’s no smut yet, but this chapter does lean into some more mature themes 

Ch. 1

also on ao3

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

A week had passed since the Great Flirting Incident, and while Lilia hadn’t exactly acknowledged anything outright, I could tell something had shifted. She was watching me more closely now, little glances when she thought I wasn’t looking, the occasional pause before she called me baby like she was testing the waters. But she hadn’t made a move, and if I was being honest, I wasn’t sure she ever would.

So, naturally, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

It started with a simple realisation: Lilia Calderu was a woman stuck in another century. She still used a landline, still read newspapers, and still had absolutely no concept of modern convenience. I mean, she handwrites every single appointment into an actual paper planner. Who even does that anymore?

At first, it was just a passing thought, how much easier things would be for her if she had a smartphone. But the more I thought about it, the more it felt like the perfect excuse to do something nice for her. Something that wasn’t just flirting but actually, you know, helpful.

Which is why I found myself standing in the phone store, staring at a sleek smartphone display, wondering if I was about to change her life or ruin mine.

By the following morning, Lilia was perched at the counter, lazily shuffling her tarot cards with that effortless grace that made my heart do embarrassing things. She glanced up as the door jingled, eyes flicking to the small shopping bag in my hand.

“What’s this?” she asked, raising a delicate brow.

I placed the bag on the counter with a triumphant grin. “It’s about time you stepped into this decade, Calderu.”

She sighed, long and suffering. “Y/n, I don’t need —”

“You do,” I interrupted, pulling out the sleek black smartphone. “This? This is a miracle. You can set appointments, track orders, and get this, stop living in the dark ages.”

Lilia stared at the device like it might bite her. “I like my dark ages.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, humour me. Think of it as an investment. For the shop.”

She exhaled dramatically but took the phone, turning it over in her hands with a look of mild disdain. “It’s so... modern. ”

“That’s the point.” I grinned. “And, because I care about y—” I stumbled, suddenly feeling awkward. “—because I care about... efficiency, I already programmed it with your contacts and the shop’s schedule.”

Lilia smirked, clearly enjoying my mortification. “Very thorough, baby.”

I flushed. “Just... try it.”

She sighed but started poking at the screen, and I watched, fascinated, as her brows furrowed in concentration. “Hmph. It’s... responsive.”

“That’s what touchscreens do.”

“Fascinating.”

I grinned, feeling victorious. “You’re welcome.”

Later that night, I sat on Agatha’s couch, nursing a drink and dramatically recounting my victory to the coven.

“She took the phone,” I said, gesturing grandly. “She even said it was fascinating. This is huge.”

Jen raised a brow. “You bought her a phone?”

“Yeah.”

Alice leaned in. “Like... an actual smartphone? ”

“Yes.”

Agatha, sipping her wine, smirked. “y/n. Baby. Darling.”

“What?”

“You have to sext her.”

I choked on my drink. “ WHAT?! ”

Billy, perched on the armrest of the couch, grinned. “I second this.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head vehemently. “Absolutely not.”

Agatha leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief. “You cannot waste this opportunity.”

Alice covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God.”

Jen nodded sagely. “Listen, you’ve been pining after this woman for weeks. This is your moment.”

I gaped at them. “I bought her a phone so she could schedule tarot readings, not so I could send her—” I cut myself off, flushing furiously. “No. Not happening.”

Agatha smirked. “y/n.”

“No.”

“y/n.”

I groaned. “Guys, she doesn’t even like me like that.”

Billy scoffed. “She’s calling you baby every five minutes.”

“That’s just how she talks!”

Agatha shook her head. “Trust me, if she wasn’t interested, she wouldn’t put up with your nonsense.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate all of you.”

Jen patted my back. “Just... test the waters. Send something flirty. Nothing too intense.”

“Like what?” I mumbled into my hands.

Billy grinned. “Something like ‘Hey, Lilia. Thinking about you. And also that tarot reading you owe me.’ ”

“That’s not sexting?” I arched my brow.

Agatha shrugged. “Baby steps, y/n. Baby steps.”

Alice, ever the voice of reason, chimed in. “Or you could, you know, just use the phone for its intended purpose.”

Agatha and Billy groaned in unison.

Jen smirked. “C’mon, y/n. You flirt with everyone else like it’s your day job. Why not just send a little something spicy?”

I shook my head furiously. “Absolutely not. I refuse.”

Agatha grinned wickedly. “Then hand me your phone.”

I snatched it away, glaring. “I will murder you.”

“Fine, fine,” Agatha said, leaning back with a sigh. “But mark my words, y/n, you will crack. And when you do, I expect details.”

I groaned, sinking deeper into the couch.

This was going to be a disaster.

Another morning, another shift, I found myself watching Lilia as she tapped away at her new phone with a surprising amount of focus. She was getting the hang of it faster than I’d expected, which only made me more nervous.

“Enjoying it?” I asked casually, leaning on the counter.

She glanced up, lips quirking. “It’s... useful.”

I smirked. “Told you so.”

Her eyes twinkled. “You’re quite persistent, baby.”

I swallowed hard. Don’t read into it. Don’t read into it.

Lilia left not long after, saying something about running errands and warning me not to rearrange her “perfectly organised” bookshelves while she was gone. I rolled my eyes, but as soon as the bell above the door chimed, I let out a breath.

I was halfway through dusting the crystal ball display when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Expecting a message from one of the chaos gremlins I called friends, I pulled it out without thinking, only for my stomach to drop.

New message from Lilia Calderu:"This phone might be useful after all. You’ve made me quite... curious."

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

I could practically hear Agatha’s voice in my head.

You cannot waste this opportunity.

I didn’t respond to Lilia’s text. Not right away, at least. I told myself it was because I was busy, sorting inventory, helping customers, thinking about her like a lovesick idiot, but really, it was because I had no idea what to say.

"You’ve made me quite... curious."

What did that mean? Was she flirting? Was she just being her usual enigmatic self? Or was I reading too much into a perfectly innocent text from a woman who probably thought Wi-Fi was some kind of mystical energy?

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and spent the rest of the day pretending it didn’t exist.

Later that night, I gathered the coven at my place, pacing my living room as I relayed the situation.

“So she texted that, and I didn’t reply,” I finished, waving my phone around like it was cursed. “I just left her on read. ”

Agatha groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “y/n. y/n. ”

Billy gasped. “You ghosted her?”

“It’s not ghosting if it’s only been a few hours!” I argued. “I needed... I needed time. ”

Jen stared at me like I was the dumbest person alive. “To do what, exactly?”

“Panic!” I exclaimed, throwing myself onto the couch. “You don’t understand! I can flirt with anyone, anyone, but it’s Lilia. She’s... Lilia. ”

Alice, sitting beside me, patted my knee with sympathy. “We know, y/n. But if you don’t reply soon, you’re going to look weird.”

Agatha sat forward, pointing at me with a knowing smirk. “You need to sext her.”

“No!” I practically shouted, scrambling to sit up. “We are not sexting!”

Billy grinned. “You cannot miss this opportunity.”

Jen crossed her arms. “y/n. Babe. If you don’t flirt back, she’s going to think you’re not interested.”

I groaned. “I am interested. I’m just not... ready to send the big guns. ”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’ll start small. What’s something flirty but not too flirty?”

Billy snapped his fingers. “Tell her you were thinking about her.”

I stared. “I’m not texting that.”

Alice suggested gently, “Maybe something like... ‘What exactly are you curious about?’”

Jen nodded approvingly. “Oh, that’s good. Leaves it open-ended.”

Agatha smirked. “And suggestive.”

I pointed at Alice. “I like that one. Safe. Respectable.”

Billy huffed. “Boring.”

I took a deep breath, typing it out slowly.

Me: What exactly are you curious about?

I stared at the screen, hovering over the send button. “Okay, I sent it. Wait, no, I can’t.” I threw my phone to Alice. “You send it.”

Alice sighed but hit send. “Done.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate this. This is awful. Why do people do this?”

Agatha snickered. “Because it’s fun.”

A moment later, my phone buzzed, and the entire group froze.

Billy’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, she replied already?”

I snatched my phone, heart pounding.

Lilia: You, mostly.

Silence.

Then chaos.

I just stared at the screen in pure, unadulterated panic. “WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT?”

Agatha grinned like the devil herself. “You say... ‘Only mostly?’”

Alice nodded. “Yes. Play it cool.”

I nodded slowly, fingers trembling. “Okay... okay.” I typed the words, hesitated, then hit send.

A minute passed. Another buzz.

Lilia: You do tend to take up a lot of space.

Billy fell to the floor. “WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?”

Agatha cackled. “It means you’re living in her head rent-free. Y/n, if you don’t escalate this, I will.”

I groaned, pacing the room again. “Okay. Okay. I need to flirt back. How do I flirt back without looking desperate?” 

Jen smirked. “You are desperate.”

Alice offered, “Maybe... ‘I hope I’m not too much trouble.’”

Agatha groaned. “Boring. Say, ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’”

“I’m not pushing it, Agatha.”

Billy grinned. “Coward.”

I sighed, typing Alice’s suggestion.

Me: I hope I’m not too much trouble.

Another buzz.

Lilia: Not yet.

I screamed into a pillow.

Agatha raised her glass. “Ladies and gentlemen... we got her.”

The next morning, I walked into the shop with my heart pounding in my chest, expecting— hoping —for some sort of acknowledgment from Lilia. Maybe a sly smile, a lingering look, or even a teasing comment about our texts.

Instead, I got... nothing.

“Morning, y/n,” she greeted me in her usual warm but distant tone, barely glancing up from rearranging a set of tarot decks.

I blinked. “Uh, morning.”

She didn’t say anything else. No mention of the texts, no coy smile, no baby. Just business as usual.

I busied myself at the counter, sneaking glances at her whenever I could. And while she seemed to be going out of her way to act normal, something was different. She stood closer to me when we worked together, her hands occasionally brushing mine when I passed her something. She touched my arm when she needed me to move, her fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

But she didn’t say anything about it.

Not a damn thing.

And to make things worse, she kept casually reminding me of just how much older she was.

“You wouldn’t remember,” she said with a small chuckle when I asked about an old book she was dusting off. “It’s before your time.”

When I mentioned a show I’d been watching, she waved it off with a smirk. “Oh, y/n, that’s so... modern. I remember when television didn’t have color. ”

And when I tripped over my words trying to ask her a question, she just gave me that small, infuriating smile and murmured, “Ah, youth.”

It was driving me insane.

That night, I gathered with the coven at Agatha’s, pacing the living room like a woman on the edge. “She’s driving me crazy, ” I groaned, throwing myself onto the couch dramatically.

Jen raised an eyebrow. “She didn’t mention the texts at all? ”

“Not even once! ” I threw my hands in the air. “It’s like they never happened! And yet she’s touching me more than ever, but at the same time, she keeps bringing up how ancient she is.”

Agatha smirked. “Ah, classic ‘I’m too old for you’ defense.”

Billy frowned. “Wait, you think she’s doing it on purpose?”

Alice nodded thoughtfully. “It sounds like she’s trying to create distance without actually pulling away.”

I groaned into a pillow. “So what does that mean? She’s interested but scared?”

Jen hummed. “Maybe. Or she could just be screwing with you.”

Agatha sipped her wine. “Or hear me out—she’s waiting for you to push past the age thing.”

I peeked out from the pillow. “Push past it how? ”

Billy grinned. “Flirt harder.”

I sat up. “I don’t think I can flirt harder, Billy.”

Agatha leaned in with a devilish grin. “Then you make her realise age doesn’t matter.”

Jen smirked. “And how exactly does she do that?”

Agatha’s eyes gleamed. “Confidence. You show her you’re mature, and that she’s the one wasting time over nothing.”

I frowned. “And if she’s genuinely not interested?”

Alice squeezed my hand. “Then at least you’ll know for sure.”

Billy nudged me. “Look, the way she texts you... she’s interested, y/n. No way she’s not.”

I sighed. “I just... I don’t want to push her if she’s uncomfortable.”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “y/n. She’s not uncomfortable. She’s hesitant. There’s a difference.”

Jen nodded. “You just need to show her that you’re serious, that you’re not some wide-eyed kid crushing on her.”

I groaned again. “So what do I do?”

Agatha grinned. “You step up your game. And I have just the plan.”

The shop was quiet this afternoon, the scent of incense curling through the air as I busied myself restocking the shelves. Lilia sat behind the counter, flipping through a book, her brow furrowed in quiet concentration. It was a peaceful kind of day until the bell above the door chimed, and I looked up, nearly dropping the stack of crystals in my hands.

I froze.

Standing in the doorway, looking just as poised and elegant as ever, was my ex.

“Oh my God,” I muttered under my breath.

She blinked, then smiled in genuine surprise. “y/n?”

Lilia glanced up at the exchange, her expression pleasantly neutral, though I noticed the way her fingers paused mid-page turn.

I forced a smile, setting down the crystals. “Hey! Wow, uh... what are you doing here?”

She laughed lightly, brushing a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “A friend of mine recommended this place. Said the tarot readings here were... life-changing. ”

Agatha, you absolute menace.

Before I could explain, Lilia stood, offering one of her usual polite smiles. “A friend of y/n’s?”

My ex turned to her, all charm and grace. “Oh no, dear,” she said with a small chuckle, resting a hand on the counter. “I’m her ex.”

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

Lilia’s lips parted slightly, her eyes widening just a fraction before she masked it with a practiced blink. “Oh,” she said slowly, clearly recalibrating. “I see.” Her eyes flicked between us, and then, with an almost surgical precision, she added, “Aren’t you... a little old?”

I internally screamed.

My ex, to her credit, handled it with an amused smile. “It was perfectly legal, I assure you.”

Lilia’s gaze didn’t waver. “Hm.”

I coughed awkwardly, feeling my face heat. “We, uh... it was a while ago.”

Lilia didn’t respond, just continued observing me with that unreadable expression of hers, her hands resting lightly on the counter.

My ex gave me a lingering smile. “You look good, y/n. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” I said, shifting uncomfortably under Lilia’s silent gaze. “How have you been?”

“Busy,” she replied with a casual shrug. “But I won’t keep you, I just wanted to check the place out. It’s lovely. I’ll be sure to come back when I have time for a tarot reading.” She smiled politely at Lilia. “I see y/n’s in good hands.” She added.

Lilia’s lips twitched, but she only nodded. “Naturally.”

I was pretty sure I was sweating at this point. “Uh, yeah, well, good seeing you. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” she said with a lingering smile before heading out the door with a soft chime of the bell.

The moment she was gone, I turned to Lilia, ready to explain but she was already facing away from me, carefully aligning a deck of tarot cards that didn’t need aligning.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and thick.

I cleared my throat. “Sooo... that happened.”

Lilia hummed noncommittally, her focus apparently glued to the cards in her hands. “Indeed.”

I shifted awkwardly. “You okay?”

She glanced at me, her expression perfectly composed but her eyes just a little too sharp. “I’m fine, baby.”

Baby. I nearly sighed in relief at the sound of it, but something about the way she said it, softer, more thoughtful made my stomach twist.

“You sure? You’re, uh... being quiet.”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just... thinking.”

I frowned, watching her closely. “About?”

She didn’t answer right away, instead carefully setting the tarot deck down before meeting my gaze. “I suppose I’m just... surprised.”

“Surprised?” I echoed.

Lilia tilted her head, her expression unreadable again. “You didn’t strike me as someone who dated... older women.”

I laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh... surprise?”

Lilia studied me for a long moment, her lips pressing together like she was considering something. “I see.”

And then, without another word, she turned back to her work, and I was left standing there, feeling like I had somehow lost a game I didn’t even know we were playing.

By nightfall, I was back at Agatha’s, crashing onto her couch, groaning dramatically. “Agatha, you suck. ”

She grinned over her wine glass. “You’re welcome.”

Jen shook her head. “So let me get this straight, you saw your ex, Lilia found out, and now she’s acting weird? ”

“Weird,” I confirmed, running a hand through my hair. “She’s quiet. Too quiet. And she kept bringing up the age thing before, but now she’s, like, really leaning into it.”

Billy grinned. “So she’s jealous.”

I groaned. “I don’t know! She’s not saying anything. She’s just being all... introspective.”

Agatha smirked. “Oh, she’s spiraling.”

Alice gave me a sympathetic look. “Maybe she’s just processing. I mean, you’re younger, and she’s probably overthinking it.”

“She is overthinking it,” I muttered. “And I don’t know what to do!”

Jen sipped her drink. “You flirt with her more.”

Billy nodded. “Exactly. Show her age means nothing.”

I sighed. “I don’t know if I can just—”

Agatha cut me off. “y/n. Look at me.”

I looked.

“You are hot. You are charming. And you have successfully dated an older woman before. ”

I winced. “Thanks for the reminder.”

She grinned. “Lilia Calderu is not immune to you. Trust me. She’s just panicking because now she knows she’s not the first older woman you’ve been interested in.”

Alice chimed in gently, “She might have been telling herself the age thing was a reason not to get involved with you. And now? She’s realising it’s not a reason at all.”

I blinked. “You think?”

Agatha smirked. “I know. ”

Billy fist-pumped. “So, new plan?”

I sighed, staring at my phone, where Lilia’s name sat in my recent messages. “New plan,” I mumbled. “Step up the flirting.”

Agatha raised her glass. “To y/n’s romantic conquest!”

I groaned. This was going to be so much worse than the texting.

I walked into the shop with renewed determination. Last night’s pep talk with the coven had me feeling... well, mostly confident. At least confident enough to step up my game and make it clear to Lilia that the whole age thing? Not an issue. I had a plan, flirt, be charming, and maybe, just maybe , get her to acknowledge whatever was happening between us.

Except life, as usual, had other plans.

The moment I walked in, the shop was packed. A line of customers at the counter, others browsing the shelves, and Lilia, poised, composed, and completely absorbed in reading after reading.

I blinked. “Since when do we get this busy?”

She didn’t answer, of course. Lilia never spoke during a reading, but the way she glanced up at me before flipping over a card for the woman in front of her said enough.

I sighed, shoving my bag behind the counter. 

After the reading, she finally looked up, smoothing her hands over the table. “It’s the full moon tomorrow. People are... searching.”

“Of course they are.”

So much for my grand seduction plan.

I tried, though. Between organising stock and ringing up sales, I threw in little comments. A brush of my hand here, a sly smile there. But Lilia? She was avoiding me like it was her new favorite hobby.

Every time I moved toward her, she shifted her attention to a customer. When I leaned against the counter, trying to catch her eye, she breezed past me with a murmured, “Excuse me, baby.”

And when I finally managed to get close enough to remind her about my plans, she barely registered it.

“Hey, don’t forget I have to leave early tomorrow,” I said, leaning in slightly. “Agatha’s art gallery thing, remember? I told you last week.”

Lilia, scanning a book title, nodded absently. “Mhm. That’s fine, baby.”

I frowned. “Lilia, Agatha will kill me if I miss it.”

Still no real reaction. “You’ll be fine.”

And just like that, she was gone again, moving to help another customer without a second glance.

I stared after her, utterly baffled. She was always attentive when I talked to her, always teasing or throwing in some cryptic comment to keep me on my toes. But today? Today, she was distant. Aloof. And it was driving me insane.

By the end of the day, I was ready to scream.

I stomped into Agatha’s that evening, slumping onto the couch in pure defeat. “She’s avoiding me.”

Agatha didn’t even look up from her wine. “Told you she’d spiral.”

Billy, sprawled on the floor with a tarot deck, flipped over a random card and smirked. “I predict that she’s freaking out.”

Jen raised an eyebrow. “You got all that from the cards?”

“No, I got that from common sense,” Billy said, grinning.

Alice offered me a sympathetic smile. “Maybe she’s just busy?”

I threw my hands in the air. “No, Alice. She’s strategically avoiding me. I tried everything today. Every time I got close, she found something else to do.”

Jen winced. “Ouch. So what’s the plan now?”

Agatha set down her wine, eyes gleaming. “Simple. You keep going.”

I groaned. “Agatha.”

“No, listen,” she insisted, sitting up. “If she’s avoiding you, that means she felt something yesterday. And now she’s panicking.”

Billy grinned. “So what you’re saying is... push harder?”

I groaned again. “You guys want me to die.”

Agatha leaned back, grinning. “You’ve survived worse.”

I sighed. “I told her I was leaving early for your thing tomorrow. She barely reacted.”

Agatha smirked. “Good. Because tomorrow, my dear y/n, she’s going to realise just how much she hates it when you’re not around.”

Alice smiled kindly. “Maybe a little space will make her see what she’s missing.”

I stared at the ceiling. “I hate all of you.”

Billy grinned. “We know.”

As soon as I stepped into the shop again, it felt like déjà vu. But thankfully today the shop was quiet. Not many customers, just the quiet hum of the incense burner. And, of course, Lilia still expertly dodging me like it was her life’s mission.

I tried to be casual about it, leaning on the counter and watching her pretend to be absorbed in inventory she’d probably memorised years ago. “Hey, mind if I use your place to get ready for Agatha’s thing later?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

She didn’t even look up, just nodded. “Of course. The spare key’s behind the counter.”

I resisted the urge to sigh. “Thanks.”

And just like that, she was back to pretending I didn’t exist.

I stared at her for a moment, resisting the urge to say something more, something to break through whatever walls she was so determined to put up. But instead, I just grabbed the spare key and headed into the back.

Lilia’s space was tucked behind the shop, a cozy, cluttered little place filled with books, candles, and an endless supply of robes draped over various furniture pieces. I didn’t think much of it as I changed into the dress Agatha had practically forced me to wear. The dress hugged every inch of me in all the right places, the deep shade accentuating my skin in a way that even I had to admit was... impressive.

I slipped on my heels, applied my red lipstick with a steady hand, and fixed my hair until it fell just right. I wasn’t trying to do anything, this was just getting ready for Agatha’s event but even I could admit I looked good.

With one last glance in the mirror, I grabbed my things and stepped back into the shop.

Lilia was standing behind the counter, flipping through a book, seemingly lost in thought. She didn’t look up at first.

And then she did.

I watched the reaction unfold in slow motion, the way her eyes lifted, trailing up from the hem of my dress to my legs, then higher, higher, until they reached my face. Then she looked down, as if to double-check what she’d just seen. And then— snap —right back up again, her head jerking so fast I swore she almost gave herself whiplash.

Her lips parted slightly, and for the first time ever, she said absolutely nothing.

I bit back a smile and walked over to the counter, heels clicking against the wooden floor, and held out the keys. “Thanks for letting me use your place.”

Lilia’s fingers closed around the keys, but she didn’t look away. Her dark eyes dragged over me again, slower this time, like she was trying to take it all in, maybe even commit it to memory.

There was something in the way she was looking at me, like she was working up the courage to say something. Her mouth opened slightly, and for a split second, I thought she might finally break her silence.

And then, right on cue, the door chimed.

“y/n, darling!” Agatha’s voice was as bright and smug as ever as she strolled in, wearing a knowing smile that only deepened when she saw the way Lilia was staring at me. “Look at you.”

Lilia’s gaze snapped away, and just like that, the moment was gone.

Agatha’s arm linked through mine, her grin positively feral as she turned to Lilia. “I’m stealing her for the night. Hope you don’t mind.”

Lilia finally spoke, her voice softer than usual. “Not at all.”

I turned to her with a small smile. “Bye, Lilia.”

She nodded, still looking at me like she wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Goodnight, baby.”

Agatha practically dragged me out of the shop, and as soon as the door shut behind us, she let out a low whistle.

“Holy shit, y/n.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, yeah.”

“No, no, did you see her face?” Agatha cackled, practically vibrating with glee. “I think you just aged her a decade.”

I groaned. “She didn’t even say anything.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, starting the car. “Oh, honey, she didn’t need to. That woman was devouring you with her eyes.”

I bit my lip, staring out the window. “You think?”

“I know. ”

And honestly? I really, really hoped she was right.

The night with Agatha was exactly what I needed. I loved things like this, dressing up, feeling the buzz of conversation, the soft glow of lights reflecting off expensive paintings, and the effortless way I fit into it all. There was something about the atmosphere, about the way people looked at me, that made me feel alive. And, of course, Agatha basked in it too, sipping her wine with a smirk and throwing me knowing looks every time someone complimented my dress.

"You clean up dangerously well, darling," she whispered at one point, nudging me with her elbow. "No wonder Lilia nearly combusted."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't fight the heat creeping up my neck. "She didn't combust."

Agatha just grinned. "She will."

After the event wrapped up, Agatha, never one to let a good night end too soon, insisted on a celebratory gathering at her place. It didn't take much convincing—Billy, Jen, and Alice were already in, and honestly, I loved being around them. Nights like this were rare, and I soaked it in, lounging on Agatha’s plush couch with a glass of wine in hand while she dramatically recounted the events of the night.

"And then," Agatha said, eyes sparkling with mischief, "she walked out of that little back room, looking absolutely devastating, and I swear to you, Lilia nearly dropped dead. "

Jen gasped in delight. "Shut up. "

Billy, sprawled out on the floor with his arms behind his head, grinned. "I knew it. I knew she couldn’t handle it."

Alice, ever the voice of calm, smiled softly. "She really didn't say anything?"

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "Not a word. She just... stared. "

Agatha smirked. "Stared? Honey, that woman was devouring you with her eyes."

Jen cackled. "So what’s the next move, y/n? Do we escalate?"

"I don't know!" I groaned. "She’s been weird all week, avoiding me, and now this? What does it even mean? "

Billy rolled onto his side. "It means she’s cracking."

"She’s definitely cracking," Jen agreed. "And if you play your cards right, she’ll snap soon enough."

I sighed, swirling my wine. "I don’t want to push her if she’s uncomfortable, though. If she’s really that caught up about the age thing—"

Agatha waved me off. "Oh, please. She’s not uncomfortable. She’s terrified. "

"Terrified?" I frowned.

"Terrified because she knows you could wreck her entire world, and she wouldn’t stand a chance." Agatha leaned in with a wicked smile. "And she likes being in control, doesn’t she?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but my phone buzzed, cutting through the conversation. My heart leapt into my throat.

I glanced down, and there it was.

Lilia: Let me know when you get home safe.

I stared at the screen, the words blurring slightly as my heart hammered against my ribs.

Billy sat up instantly. "Who is it?"

I swallowed hard. "Lilia."

The room erupted.

"Oh my God," Jen practically shrieked, grabbing my arm. "She texted you?! "

Agatha grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Oh, she’s gone. "

I blinked, staring at the message. "It’s just... she wants to make sure I’m okay."

Agatha snatched the phone from my hand, reading the message aloud in a dramatic tone. "Let me know when you get home safe." She gasped theatrically. "Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve entered the protective phase. "

I groaned, grabbing my phone back. "It’s not a big deal."

Jen poked me. "y/n. Babe. This is a huge deal. She’s thinking about you right now. She’s picturing you coming home, kicking off your heels, and—"

"Okay, that’s enough," I muttered, my face burning.

Billy smirked. "But seriously, what are you gonna say back?"

I stared at the message again, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. "I don’t know. What do I even say? "

Agatha leaned in with a devious grin. "Simple. ‘Wish you were here.’"

I shot her a glare. "I’m not sexting her."

Alice smiled. "You could just say, ‘I will, thanks for checking in.’ Casual, but lets her know you appreciate it."

Jen hummed. "Or... you could send a little something extra. Not too flirty, just enough to keep her thinking."

I sighed. "You guys are terrible influences."

Billy shrugged. "We know."

I rolled my eyes but typed out a response anyway.

Me: Thanks, Lilia. I will. You're sweet for checking in.

I hovered over the send button, heart racing, before pressing it.

The room watched in silent anticipation.

Billy grinned. "And now we wait."

I stared at my phone, willing it to buzz again. The coven had gone back to their usual antics. Billy was dramatically narrating the highlights of Agatha’s gallery event, Jen was critiquing the wine selection, and Agatha was lounging with a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with her own meddling.

But me? I was glued to my screen, staring at Lilia’s last message like it held the secrets of the universe.

And then, finally, my phone buzzed.

Lilia: Please let me know if I need to send the police out.

I snorted, shaking my head. “She’s threatening to call the cops on me.”

Billy perked up. “That’s sexy.”

I sighed, typing out a response.

Me: I’m at Agatha’s, staying here tonight.

A moment later, another buzz.

Lilia: Good. Glad you’re safe.

I exhaled, a small smile tugging at my lips. But before I could even process it, another message popped up.

Lilia: How did the night go?

The coven erupted.

“Oh my God, ” Jen gasped, grabbing my arm. “She’s fishing. ”

“Grandma’s up past her bedtime, ” Agatha grinned, swirling her wine. “Probably already touching herself thinking about y/n and that red lipstick.”

I choked on my drink. “ Agatha! ”

Billy cackled, rolling onto his side. “I mean, she did see you in that dress. You think she just went to sleep after that? Hell no.”

Alice, blushing furiously, covered her face. “Oh my God, guys.”

I groaned, glaring at them. “Can you all not? She’s being nice, that’s all.”

Agatha smirked. “Sweetheart, people don’t stay up texting their employees at midnight just to be nice. ”

Jen waved a hand. “Yeah, no one’s buying that. She’s sitting at home, staring at her phone, probably replaying that double take she did when you walked out in that dress.”

Billy wagged his brows. “Lilia Calderu: palm reader by day, handsy old woman by night.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate all of you.”

Agatha grinned. “No, you love us. Now text her back. Be flirty, y/n.”

I peeked out from my hands. “What do I even say?”

Jen, ever the strategist, leaned in. “Keep it casual but suggestive. Something like, ‘It was good. Would’ve been better if you were there.’”

Billy gasped. “Yes, yes, YES.”

Alice shook her head. “That’s too much. Maybe just say, ‘It went well, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.’”

Agatha snorted. “Boring.”

I sighed, staring at my phone. “Fine. I’ll go with something... middle ground.”

I typed, biting my lip.

Me: It went well. I think I made an impression.

The coven leaned in, waiting as I hovered over the send button. I rolled my eyes and hit it.

We all stared at the screen, waiting.

My phone buzzed again.

Lilia: I have no doubt you did, baby.

I froze, and the coven lost it.

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling over the keyboard. “I think I’m going to die.”

Agatha grinned. “Not before you sext her back. ”

I stared at my phone, heart hammering in my chest, Lilia’s message practically burning into my screen.

I turned to the coven, wide-eyed and completely at a loss. “What do I say? What do I say?! ”

Alice sighed. “Keep it playful. Like, ‘Good to know my reputation precedes me.’”

Agatha smirked. “Or—and hear me out—‘I leave a mark wherever I go... want me to leave my mark on you?’”

I groaned, grabbing my phone back. “You all suck.”

Billy grinned. “And yet you keep asking for our help.”

I rolled my eyes but typed anyway, fingers trembling just slightly.

Me: Good to know my reputation precedes me.

A collective sigh of satisfaction rippled through the group as I hit send.

We all stared at the screen again. Silence. Then...

Lilia: It does. Quite the reputation, indeed.

Jen gasped. “OH. MY. GOD. ”

Agatha laughed, draping herself dramatically over the couch. “y/n, darling, you are killing her.”

I couldn’t fight the smile stretching across my lips, warmth spreading through me.

Alice giggled. “This is so cute.”

Billy nodded sagely. “It’s not cute, Alice. It’s sexy. ”

We kept chatting for a while longer, Agatha tossing out increasingly absurd suggestions that I shot down one by one, and eventually, we all crashed, smiles on our faces, hearts full, and just enough teasing to ensure I wouldn’t get a moment’s peace tomorrow.

It was so fucking early. Too early. The kind of early that felt like a personal attack.

I woke up to the sharp smell of coffee and the unmistakable sound of Billy and Jen bickering, their voices cutting through the dawn like they had no concept of time—or mercy. My brain protested every second of consciousness, but I managed to peel myself off the couch, blinking blearily.

After some groggy, half-conscious hugs and a round of mumbled promises to update each other, we all stumbled our separate ways, the world outside still drenched in that unsettling, pre-sunrise gloom.

And then... I was home. Alone.

And I was bored.

I wasn’t at the shop today, which meant I had absolutely no distractions. No tarot cards to organise, no shelves to restock, and, most importantly, no Lilia. I found myself pacing my apartment, debating whether it would be too much to text her again, but the thought made me cringe.

I needed an excuse. Something casual.

I chewed my lip, glancing at my keys. And then it hit me.

Lilia loved this little Italian pastry place across town, she mentioned it once in passing, some small hole-in-the-wall bakery that she claimed made the best sfogliatelle she’d had since leaving Sicily.

Before I could overthink it, I grabbed my coat and drove across town.

By the time I reached the shop, the Closed sign was still hanging on the door. It was early, too early for the shop to be open yet, but I knocked anyway, clutching the warm box of pastries in my hands.

A few seconds passed, and then the door creaked open.

Lilia stood there in a robe— a robe.

A silky, deep burgundy robe that clung to her in ways that made my brain short-circuit. Her dark curls were loose, tumbling over her shoulders, and she looked... soft. Sleepy.

And I was the one speechless now.

“y/n?” she murmured, brow furrowing in confusion.

I swallowed hard, trying to remember how to form words. “Uh... I brought breakfast.” I held up the box like an offering, as if that explained why I was standing outside her shop at an ungodly hour.

She stared at me for a beat, then at the pastries, and then back at me. Without a word, she stepped aside, opening the door wider.

I stepped inside, the familiar scent of the shop mingling with the faint, warm scent of her.

Lilia gestured to the small table in the corner where we usually sat with tea. “Sit,” she said softly, closing the door behind me.

I obeyed, setting the pastries down as she disappeared into the back for a moment. When she returned, she had two mugs of coffee in hand, sliding one across the table to me.

“Thought you had today off,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

I shrugged, unboxing the pastries. “I do. I just... thought you’d like these.”

Her lips twitched. “From my favorite place?”

I grinned. “I listen.”

She picked up one of the pastries, inspecting it like she was deciding if I’d done a good job. Then she took a bite, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “You really do listen.”

I laughed softly, watching her. “So, how’d the shop do without me yesterday?”

Lilia smirked. “It survived.”

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the tension from the night before melting into something more familiar. She asked about the gallery, my friends, the art. I told her about Billy’s ridiculous art commentary and Agatha’s smug satisfaction.

“You have good friends,” she said after a while, stirring her coffee thoughtfully.

“They’re the best,” I agreed, smiling.

She sipped her coffee, watching me over the rim of the mug with those dark, knowing eyes. “And they care about you... a lot.”

I shrugged. “I care about them too.”

Something flickered in her expression, but before I could ask, she glanced at the clock and sighed. “You should probably head back before they start wondering where you are.”

I pouted. “Are you kicking me out?”

Her lips twitched. “I’m saying your fan club will miss you.”

I rolled my eyes, taking the hint, and stood to gather my things. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you get ready to open.”

Lilia smirked, walking me to the door. “Smart choice, baby.”

I paused in the doorway, turning to her. “Thanks for letting me crash your morning.”

She leaned against the doorframe, her gaze soft but unreadable. “Anytime.”

I left with a flutter in my chest, already thinking about what excuse I could come up with to see her again.

The evening was quiet, just me and the soft hum of the TV filling the apartment. I was curled up on the couch, half-watching some crime drama, the kind where the detectives always figure things out way too fast. My mind kept drifting back to this morning, Lilia in that robe, the way she’d looked at me, the way her lips had curled around the edge of her coffee cup like she was considering something she wouldn’t say out loud.

I sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, telling myself to stop overthinking.

And then my phone buzzed.

I glanced at the screen, expecting a text from one of the coven, but my brows furrowed at the sender.

Lilia Calderu.

I sat up a little straighter, unlocking my phone.

The message? Absolute gibberish.

“fhbgggjkkjj”

I blinked.

I stared at it.

I blinked again.

I typed back quickly.

Me: Lilia? Everything okay?

No response.

I stared at my phone, waiting.

Still nothing.

I chewed on my lip, debating if I should call her, when—

RING.

I nearly dropped the phone as Lilia’s name flashed across the screen.

I fumbled to answer, pressing it to my ear. “Lilia?”

Nothing. Just... breathing.

Shaky, uneven breathing.

And then—

A whimper.

My entire body froze.

Another sound, soft and needy, and—

A low, drawn-out moan.

I choked on air, clutching the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. My mouth went completely dry.

There was no mistaking what I was hearing. No way.

I opened my mouth to say something— anything —but before I could, the line went dead.

I stared at the phone like it had just burst into flames in my hand.

“No. No way,” I whispered to myself, blinking rapidly.

This... this had to be an accident. Maybe she sat on her phone? Maybe—maybe she was watching a... video or something? Yeah, I thought, nodding to myself. That makes sense. Probably just a mistake.

A completely innocent, totally not deliberate mistake.

My phone stayed silent in my hands, and I sat there for about 20 minutes, just processing.

And then my phone buzzed again.

Lilia: Ignore that.

I gawked at the screen.

Ignore that?

Like it was just some minor inconvenience?

My fingers trembled as I typed back.

Me: …Okay?

There was a long pause.

Then, finally—

Lilia: Goodnight, baby.

I groaned, falling back against the couch, covering my face with my hands.

“She’s going to kill me.”

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard it, the soft whimper, the breathy moan, the way the call cut off before I could even process what was happening. My mind replayed it over and over, dissecting every second until I convinced myself it had to be a mistake.

Lilia had to have accidentally pocket dialed me. There was no way she’d do something like that on purpose. Right?

By the time morning rolled around, I was a mess, over-caffeinated, under-rested, and dreading what was going to happen when I walked into the shop.

I took a deep breath before pushing the door open, bracing myself for something, anything awkwardness, a comment, maybe even a cryptic remark about phones.

But when I walked in, Lilia was already behind the counter, counting the till like nothing had happened.

“Morning, y/n,” she said casually, not even looking up.

I froze for a second. “Uh... morning.”

She glanced up, arching a brow at my hesitation. “Are you alright?”

I stared at her, searching for any hint of discomfort or amusement anything that would give away the fact that she absolutely knew what she did last night. But she just looked... normal. Unbothered. As if she hadn’t called me in the middle of the night and—

I cleared my throat, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just... didn’t sleep well.”

Lilia hummed knowingly. “Ah, too much excitement from your art gala adventure the previous night?”

I blinked. Was that... was that a dig? I couldn't tell.

“Something like that,” I muttered, setting my bag down behind the counter.

She straightened up and gave me one of her usual, polite smiles. “I need you to organise the crystal display today. People keep moving things around, and it’s driving me crazy.”

I stared at her, waiting for something, some sly comment, some subtle hint that she knew.

Nothing.

She just handed me a cloth and gestured toward the shelves like it was any other day.

I nodded slowly, taking it from her. “Sure. I can do that.”

Lilia’s lips quirked, and she patted my shoulder lightly. “Good girl.”

The words slipped from Lilia’s lips like they meant nothing, like they weren’t currently wreaking absolute havoc on my nervous system.

I gripped the cloth in my hands so tight I was surprised it didn’t disintegrate. My entire body was in overdrive, my brain short-circuiting in real-time, because after last night, after hearing that noise, after spending all night dissecting it from every possible angle, there was no way I could process her saying that without losing my mind.

And yet, Lilia carried on like she hadn’t just set me on fire.

She hummed to herself as she floated across the shop, rearranging candles with her usual air of elegant chaos, soft, sophisticated, yet somehow still completely kooky. She muttered something under her breath about “people putting things in the wrong places” and shot the candles a scolding look, as if they were responsible.

Meanwhile, I stood there, trying to act like my entire worldview hadn’t shifted overnight.

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know.

There was no way she had butt-dialled me on purpose, right? No way she knew what I’d heard. But what if she suspected? What if she was saying things like good girl just to watch me unravel? Was I unraveling? It definitely felt like I was unraveling.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

Lilia’s voice cut through my spiralling thoughts, and I nearly jumped, clutching the cloth like it was a lifeline.

“I’m—I'm fine,” I croaked, too fast, too awkward.

She glanced at me with a raised brow, then tilted her head, curls slipping over her shoulder in that careless, elegant way she always managed. “Mm.” Her lips quirked, amused but not prying, yet. “If you say so.”

I nodded too quickly, ducking my head and wiping the same spot on the shelf three times. Play it cool. Play it cool. She doesn’t know.

Lilia, completely oblivious to the chaos in my head, twirled one of her rings around her finger absentmindedly, watching me with a curious little smile. “You really didn’t sleep well, did you?”

I froze. Oh god. “What makes you say that?”

She shrugged, returning to fussing with the display, adjusting a vase by a fraction of an inch before stepping back with a satisfied nod. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” I tried to keep my voice casual, but I was fairly sure I sounded like I was moments away from combusting.

Lilia turned, resting her elbows on the counter and watching me with a thoughtful expression. “The same one you get when you’re overthinking things. Your brow does this little... crinkle.”

My hand shot up to my forehead instinctively. “It does not.”

Her lips twitched. “Oh, it does.”

I groaned under my breath, focusing aggressively on the shelf in front of me. “It’s nothing. Just... a long night.”

She hummed knowingly. “Ah, still recovering from the art gala. I imagine it was... stimulating. Those events tend to linger, don’t they.”

I choked. “What?”

Lilia blinked, completely innocent. “The art. Your friends.” She paused. “The drinks?”

I stared at her, searching for even the tiniest flicker of something, anything , that might indicate she was toying with me. But she just looked... normal. Perfectly composed. Like she hadn’t called me in the middle of the night and—

I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. Stimulating.”

Lilia tilted her head, eyes twinkling. “You’re acting strange.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Are you in trouble? Did you get up to mischief?”

My entire existence was mischief at this point. “No.”

Lilia pursed her lips, clearly not convinced, but she didn’t press. Instead, she gently adjusted the sleeve of her robe, glancing at the clock. “Well, whatever it is, baby, I’m sure it’ll sort itself out.”

There it was again. Baby. My knees nearly gave out.

I swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the shelf. Focus.

To make things worse, she strolled over, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of her, something warm, a little floral, a little spicy, something that was so Lilia it made my head spin. She picked up a crystal from the display I was supposed to be fixing and turned it over in her hands.

“This one’s nice,” she mused, running her fingers along the edges. Then, without missing a beat, she handed it to me. “For stress.”

I blinked. “I’m not stressed.”

She smiled, and it was the kind of smile that said she knew I was lying through my teeth. “Of course not.”

I took the crystal anyway, staring at it like it might offer me some divine clarity.

Lilia lingered for a moment longer, then gave a satisfied nod. “Well, I’m off to pretend I’m being productive in the back. Call if you need me.”

I watched her disappear behind the curtain, releasing the breath I didn’t realise I was holding. The second she was out of sight, I dropped my head onto the counter and groaned into my arms.

What the hell was I supposed to do with this?

She didn’t know.

And yet, somehow, it felt like she was winning a game I didn’t even know we were playing.

I sighed, rolling the crystal in my palm, muttering under my breath. “Progress. It’s progress.”

Because she wasn’t avoiding me. And if this was how she wanted to play it?

Fine. Two could play that game.

For now.

[elene78-blog]

Hey... I've read a lot of things about Kevin and Jean's interview, and I don't think they're ever good things. I understand. Nora said she wouldn't be too careful with Kevin and Jean, and saying TGR will be just as sad as the first one doesn't give us hope.

Because of this, we think that this interview will go wrong, but... Let's think about another possibility that is also very plausible due to the title of the book and so as not to repeat dynamics that already occurred in TFC.

And the interview goes well. It comes out damn well.

This would make a lot of sense if you think about it, because it's Kevin who will be handling the interview, and he's an expert at this. Kevin knows how to act. Kevin will know exactly what to say to get what he wants: for Jean's image to improve.

In fact, Kevin will just have to tell the truth.

Kevin will explain, with his press smile, that Jean was his best friend at The Nest. Riko was his brother, but Jean was his best friend forever. Kevin will explain that they grew up together and that it was Jean who taught him French. The two speak in French for the press to show closeness. Kevin says good things about his life with Jean. Things we may not even know and that Jean barely remembers, but Jean relives them in surprise when Kevin mentions them.

Kevin says that when he left The Nest, Jean was the only one who supported him (which is half true) because he knew that Kevin wanted to meet his father. Kevin says that he always gave Jean gifts from his trips and Jean says that he still keeps them, even though they didn't hold up well in the move.

Kevin says that Jean was with the Foxes after The Nest for a while, along with him and Neil (bombshell, here it is revealed that Neil and Jean are childhood friends and that Neil went to The Nest last Christmas to be with Jean) . Kevin says Jean went to Palmetto after getting injured at The Nest, so he wouldn't be able to continue playing that season. This caused Jean to have a minor crisis about her career and the Ravens to become very angry at the extreme pressure they were put under, which also affected Riko.

Neil and Kevin took Jean in to get some rest from the Ravens environment. This was when Kevin proposed to Jean to move to the Trojans, as Kevin and Jeremy are great friends and Kevin felt that this step would be better for Jean's career.

Jean appears in the interview as a man with a tough guy appearance, very direct and sarcastic, but with a big heart and kindness (the truth, basically).

And then comes the incredible.

Kevin tells Jean's age when they entered The Nest. He says it anecdotally, but there is a clear intention behind it. Kevin says it was always amazing to play with Jean, because Jean was 16 when they came into The Nest, and yet he was so much better than the other defensemen. Kevin says Jean was very little then, and that only made it more impressive to see him play.

The interviewer is a little worried, so she doesn't mention anything about the rumors. She just says, "So, you're 19 now?"

Jean confirms this and says he'll be 20 in a few weeks/months, and then the interview ends.

Jean ends up being loved by fans almost immediately (and others start to wonder if the rumors are false or there is something very shady going on at The Nest) but Jean and Kevin argue after this interview (for some reason, there are too many to venture).

And then comes the anguish. The anguish of the fight, of knowing what happens with Jeremy, about Jean's parents, maybe Elodie, more topics about The Nest, the Trojans (because I'm sure there will be dramas with them)...

But that interview will turn out well, and that would be the big surprise. Because in that interview people really see Jean Moreau for the first time, and... they adore him.

Contrary to what they always said, Jean Moreau is loved almost immediately.

And after this... They start calling Jean The Golden Raven.

HEY, THAT'S A GREAT POSSIBILITY!

[heartkade]

egg kids :]

[housederiva]

I may not understand how Davrin Dragon Age's clothes work yet but I do have a comprehensive knowledge of cleavage and a deep desire to figure out how to paint digitally

[revvethasmythh]

OH also i actually utilized photomode for once in my life and look at this sick ass picture i took

[nonconstories]

Someone pissed me off a couple of days ago

So! Below are several links to programs and foundations that promote adult literacy! Hundreds of millions of adults world wide were failed by their education system and now must fend for themselves while trying to read contracts and hospital bills and infographics from the CDC. But they don't have to be alone, and it is never too late to learn!

ProLiteracy: A network of educators, researchers, and advocates which provides research reports, learning materials, and other support to adult education programs. They assist with connecting volunteers to local programs and provide guidance and support to community leaders trying to use their programs' findings to advocate for social and political change.

Adult Literacy League: An adult education program in Central Florida, which aims to provide students with one on one attention to foster growth and confidence. It also offers English Second Language courses and job skills training, and each new student receives a comprehensive assessment to determine the best plan for them.

Saint Vincent and Sarah Fisher Center's Foundational Skills Program: A 100% free adult education program aimed at adults reading below a fifth grade level. It operates year round and is either in person or remote, and they now have a GED testing center that is open to students and the public alike.

Washtenaw Literacy: A free network of trained tutors for adults in Washtenaw County, Michigan.

Adult Learning Program (Las Vegas/Clark County): Free education classes to those lacking a high school diploma, those seeking to learn ESL, and adults who read below an eighth grade level. Also assists in students' search for gainful employment. Nevada got so fucked by COVID and the education/literacy numbers in the South West are grim. Please help these guys.

Hawaii Literacy: In addition to helping adult residents of Hawaii Island learn to read and write AND bridging the education gap in Hawaii's underserved children, they offer computer literacy classes, ESL classes, and a bookmobile. 1 in 6 Hawaiian adults struggle to read and write.

[twilight-zoned-out]

Things I noticed about The Great Gatsby that might help put the book in perspective:

-It takes place during Prohibition. Although the book is constantly filled with people drinking, the making and selling of alcohol was technically illegal and had been since 1920.

(Note: this is also why everyone gets mad at Daisy when she wants mint julep when they get to the hotel. Unless they smuggle in alcohol from home, it’s a ridiculous thing to ask.)

-1920′s humor included absurdism and wit, which combined humor and intelligence or ‘sharp’ intelligence. Daisy makes witty comments throughout the book. When she talks about Ferdie in a ridiculous way and Nick continues the conversation as if he thinks she is being serious, they are essentially joking with each other in the conventional way of the period.

-Nick is older than Tom, Daisy, and Jordan. He is not only an outsider in terms of location and wealth, but in terms of a (slightly) older culture looking in on the newer generation. When Nick leaves Jordan with the comment that he is “5 years too old to lie to [himself] and call it honor,” his insult carries extra weight because he is saying she is too young to mature herself enough for a reasonable conversation.

-It takes place after World War I, during a time when the US aggressively pursued an isolationist stance. The US did not want to become involved in any overseas wars. Most of the main characters in the book served in some way during World War I. 

(Note: This story was written before Germany began to loom as a threat in the years before World War II. When Nick calls the deaths at Gatsby’s mansion a Holocaust, it did not have the same connotation it has today.)

[edits made]

[scalproie]

I WONDER WHY, HEIHACHI

ARE WE GONNA MENTION THE CLIFF, HEIHACHI

[thechrochetarchives]

Finished Gerry!

Turns out earrings make great tiny pin badges. Also I couldn’t think of a way to give him tattoos so I just painted an eye on his top

Here he is with Jon - I didn’t realise how short I made him until I took this picture

And with Michael of course because in the process of making these I’ve inevitably become a doorkeay shipper

Figuring out how to give him roots took ages but he wasn’t to tricky apart from that, I think he turned out really cute. Agnes Montague next! 🔥

TMA crochet characters

[cmdrfupa]

Kento took a step forward when he notices that his blonde hair is slowly getting to a pale silver. The roots shining as he intently stares at the first few streaks in the mirror. A slight frown of surprise crosses his face as he runs his fingers through it, almost trying to see if they are real, contemplating the significance of this unexpected change.

“Remember we’ve got 2 potential homebuyers coming today after 3. Did you want to move anything around before then?” You spoke gently as you walked towards the bathroom noticing Kento look at himself. “Ken?”

His strict and rigid lifestyle had shaped his existence for years, but this moment marked a stark contrast to the strict regimen he's lived by. It's as if his hair was reflecting the toll of the pressure and stress he's endured.

It's a jarring sight, a symbol of the transformation he's undergoing.

“Did you notice these? The grays?”

You reached up, catching the close shave of his undercut and smile at his reflection. “We’re on each other practically every 2 seconds. Of course I noticed.”

“And you said nothing?” Eyebrow raised, Kento turned to you and kissed your palm. “Big fan of old man Kento?”

“Pffft, please.” The chuckle you let out was a slice of life to him. “I thought you were hot when you were 26 and I still think you’re hot at 44. You’re becoming a silver fox.”

He laughed but he was completely preoccupied by this new found piece of himself.

He was aging.

“Stop thinking, baby.”

“I’m not, honey.”

You squint. “Let me reiterate. Stop overthinking.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist from the side, resting your head on his chest. “When did we get to this point? I qualify for silver fox status after what feels like we just finished school.”

You bring your fingers up the back of his head and gently graze his scalp. “Years of wisdom and achievement via your roots. I have a few of my own sprouting at the center of my head. You’ve conquered a lot in life. I think it looks great on you.”

These hints of aging didn’t represent a loss of youth, but rather a testament to the years of life he'd lived and survived. Evidence of a journey filled with memories and growth. He starts to see the gray hair not as a symbol of decline, but as a badge of honor, a mark of the wisdom and resilience he's gained along the way. He kissed your cheek and lifted you up.

“A house, putting a kid through college, buying property on the beach,” He helped you onto the bathroom counter and smiled. “The grays are like a trophy.”

“A trophy, exactly, Mr. Nanami. Though I feel like we are missing a big key factor here.”

“Hm? What’s that?”

You leaned in, gently kissing his jawline. “You’re totally a DILF now. I have the hottest dad in this city.”

[miedei]

nonexistent rizz

the team is shocked to see that… early seasons!spencer pulls?? and he has pulled????(aka, the team discovers that early seasons!spence has a girlfriend)

a/n: first cm fic!!! super indulgent, deffo way longer than it had to be but I don’t care, I love love love the dynamic of the s1/s2 team and I NEEDED to write it (look at '#mystery girl!au' on my blog to see more musings about them <3)

cw: alcohol consumption, reader referred to as a woman, reader is around spencer’s age in s1/s2 (23-24), completely inaccurate early 2000s technology i think, cuties being cute, not edited in any way

wc: 2k

part two | mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

“‘O Keefe’s! My wonderful, wonderful sweethearts, we are going out!” The moment the team steps out of the elevator, Penelope is bombarding them, hands moving wildly as words seem to tumble out of her mouth. “And yes, Hotch, I am sure we have no cases lined up yet, and yes, I’m sure JJ can corroborate that the moment she gets to her office and no, you may not stay behind, tonight is compulsory. That stands for you too, Gideon!”

Hotch hasn’t even opened his mouth, shaking his head in defeat as he takes in Garcia’s determined face. Under the watchful eyes of the team, his shoulders slump, a tired hand scrubbing down his face. “Fine. We all have to finish our reports, but if we’re all done in half an hour, we can go. Gideon?” He turns his face, hoping for Gideon to find a way to bunk off, but there’s a glint of amusement in the older man’s eye. “Sounds like there’s no getting out of it.” With that, he walks off, to his office. 

Penelope whoops excitedly, “Okay! That means we’re all going! That’s the first time since Gideon came back,” but her face sets slightly when she meets Spencer’s eye. “No. No, Baby Genius, you will not do this to me,”

“Garcia, I have pl-” “No! You are coming out with us, and we’re going to have a great time, and whatever Russian indie film you were going to watch will still be there for you tomorrow. Okay? No more complaining, baby, you know I won’t listen.” With a pat on his shoulder, she flounces off. Defeated, he doesn’t move from the elevator area, shrugging helplessly when Elle, JJ and Morgan brush past him to the bullpen. 

With a sigh, he takes out his phone, pressing his newly-programmed speed dial and bringing the phone to his ear. From Derek’s vantage point in the bullpen, he can see Spencer, pacing back and forth in front of the elevator doors, and he can see the moment whoever is on the other side picks up. The younger man’s face lights up, like when he’s on the receiving end of a rare Hotch smile out in the field, but more spirited, buoyant. Only snippets of the conversation float in through the slightly-ajar glass doors, but they’re enough to give him pause, and still his fingers above his keyboard.

“...Garcia’s got this plan for us all, and…”

“Yes, I know, I do like going out with them, but that’s not what I wanted to do…”

“...I took the metro tonight, so I think I’ll just… Really? You want to?”

At that point, Spencer turns, his voice muffling, and keeping Derek from his vested interest in his conversation. But what little he heard is more than enough to pique his interest. He flicks a pencil onto Elle’s desk. “Greenaway. You know if pretty boy’s mom is in town or something?” Elle looks up from her monitor, head tilting, “Not that I know of. Besides, doesn’t she not like flying? I don’t think he’d have her come here. Why do you ask?”

Derek doesn’t reply, simply gesturing to the glass doors, where Spencer is walking inside, his mouth twitching to conceal his smile. His steps are measured, like he’s trying to feign calm. He settles at his desk, hunching his back in a way that can’t be comfortable, typing rapidly as his knee jiggles up and down. Elle turns back to Derek, eyes wide with wonder. 

“That is not how you look getting off the phone with your mother.”

The incident is quickly forgotten, however, when the BAU team are crammed into a booth in the back of the low-lit bar. Penelope has roped Hotch into helping her bring drinks back from the bar, and the rest are speaking a little too loudly, arms flinging and bumping into the empty glasses littering the table. 

All except for Gideon, who, despite having had three glasses of whiskey, is still just as calm and observant as he is fully sober. It is this that causes him to zero in on Spencer, sitting across from him, sandwiched between Morgan and the newly-returned Garcia. 

There’s a pink flush across his high cheekbones, and he’s incredibly giggly, all things that are completely expected for him, a few drinks in. However, what the experienced profiler picks up on, are his darting eyes. Spencer can often be found staring into the middle distance, or, since Gideon taught him the importance of building rapport with victims and officers alike, trained steadily on the space between someone’s eyebrows, but this time it’s different.

His eyes flick to whoever’s talking, feigning interest, but every few seconds, it turns back down to his lap, where something is clutched in the hand he keeps under the table. If it were Hotch, Gideon would know with absolute certainty that he was watching his phone, waiting for a text from Haley.

But this is Spencer. The youngest person he knows. The youngest person he knows whose technological knowledge is somehow worse than Gideon’s own. What on earth would have Spencer acting- 

Oh. Gideon nearly gasps at Spencer’s movements. On his fifteenth peek down at his lap, Spencer stiffens, then draws his hand up from his lap to get closer to his face. It is his phone, and Spencer Reid has somehow learned to text as quickly as Morgan does. His thumbs fly over the buttons on his phone, and he can’t hold back the smile that spreads on his face.

Gideon’s eyes furrow, and he can’t hold back from nudging Hotch’s shoulder, pointing in Spencer’s direction. Hotch pulls himself away from his conversation with JJ, and Gideon can see his expression morph from mild interest, to confusion, to complete bewilderment. After a beat, his face turns to meet Gideon’s and his normally stoic demeanor is shaken, eyes wide. 

Spencer, however, doesn’t even notice his mentors’ faces, still tapping away at his phone and craning his neck to look around the bar. 

It’s a while later, when JJ has pulled the team (minus Hotch and Gideon) onto the dance floor, a few drinks past tipsy at this point. She’s laughing out loud, holding Elle’s hand and twirling her under her arm. Penelope and Derek are mock-waltzing, bursting into laughter every few steps, and Spencer… 

JJ pauses for a moment, before Elle pulls her into moving again. Her head whips around, trying to find Spencer, before giving up. He must be back at the table with Hotch and Gideon, he was never very comfortable dancing anyway. 

The four on the dance floor quickly devolve into a mess, swapping partners until they’re all dizzy and laughing. JJ and Penelope are shimmying back and forth together, when Penelope gasps a little, tapping JJ’s arm without ceasing her movements. “Jayj! Look, see that girl at the bar?” She gestures subtly at a younger woman, probably in her early twenties, wearing a purple wrap top that has JJ sighing wistfully. 

“Pen, I think I’ve seen my soulmate. Would it be weird for me to crawl over there and beg her for her shirt?” Penelope giggles, gripping JJ’s forearms so they can sway to the music dramatically. “Just a little, my sweet. How about we go ask her where it’s from, though? I think that would be a little more…” She goes uncharacteristically silent, and it has JJ twisting to see what shut her up. However, Penelope tightens her grip on her arms, keeping her from moving. 

“JJ. My love, my heart. You’ll always be honest with me, won’t you?” Now she’s worried. JJ nods quickly, deciding to just focus on Penelope. “Yeah, Garcia, of course. What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m seeing things, and you are one of the most qualified people in the world to tell me if I’m going crazy. I’m going to turn us around, and you’re going to look at the woman in that gorgeous top, and you are going to either scream, or send me off to Hotch for a psychological evaluation.” Her tone is serious, hushed, and JJ nods solemnly. 

The intricate plan is conducted, and JJ is now facing the bar, her eyes searching for the girl, when she stiffens, sucking in a breath. “Yes! I’m not crazy, you see it right? What is going on!” Penelope smacks her arm repeatedly, but JJ can’t tear her eyes away from it. It being something she couldn’t possibly have prepared herself for, not in her wildest imaginations.

The girl is sitting on a barstool, sipping at a cocktail, and chatting to… Spencer. Spencer, the BAU’s Spencer, child-prodigy-lovable-dork-awkward-mess Spencer Reid, is stood in between her legs, smiling down at Mystery Girl without a hint of fear. It’s devastatingly sweet, his eyes soft in a way she’s never seen before, as he nods along with whatever she’s saying. Penelope jolts her out of her trance with a tap to the arm, JJ whispering, “He’s so… carefree.” 

That’s the only way to describe it. He’s looking down at her, eyes locked onto hers, and he’s still. His hands aren’t tapping, his leg isn’t shaking. He’s just looking at her. 

JJ can feel Morgan and Elle huddle near her, questioning Penelope about what they’re looking at, before shutting up as they see it. She hears them take twin gasps, and huddle even closer. They stand in silence, surely a hindrance to the people dancing, but they can’t tear themselves away. 

It’s only when Spencer shatters their worlds once more that they finally find themselves able to move. Four pairs of eyes follow him, as he leans even further towards Mystery Girl, and they all bulge at once when he raises a hand, carding his fingers through her hair. Penelope whispers, “oh my god”, Elle grips JJ’s arm in a vice grip, and Derek makes an unseemly noise, before gripping their arms, tugging them back to the booth. 

They collapse in the seats, faces pale as they look at each other, next to a very confused Gideon and Hotch. 

“What? What is it?” Hotch questions them, brow furrowed deeply. None of them speak, however. Only Elle lifts a weak hand to point. She directs their attention to the sight at the bar, and they all turn back to it, gasping once again. They’re… “kissing,” Derek breathes, shocked. Hotch and Gideon stiffen, but still crane their heads until their eyes fall on what has rendered their highly trained team speechless. And their reactions are just as silent.

Mystery Girl has stood up, her arms around Spencer’s neck, and he’s leaned down to meet her lips, hands braced on her hips. It’s honestly not that scandalous, a lazy, casual kiss that they part from with twin smiles, but the FBI agents can’t handle it. They don’t say a word, straining their ears to hear whatever she is saying as he holds her hand (Penelope lets out a squeak at that), and walks with her towards the door, not even noticing that his coworkers have returned to the booth. Her voice is low, but Hotch manages to pick up a few of the words. 

“...go home and watch that movie I was telling you about? Metropolis, I think you’ll really…” And they’re off. Spencer Reid has left a bar, holding hands with a girl (that he’s apparently spoken to multiple times? Who refers to a place as home for both of them?), acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 

The group sits in silence, unable to muster a comment, when Penelope’s phone buzzes. She checks it, and silently turns the screen over so they can all read it. 

BOY GENIUS: Hey Garcia. I wasn’t feeling well so I decided to go home. See you Monday :-)

���What?”

[saetoru]

RATE MY PROFESSOR! — GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day one — threesomes ; find masterlist here

synopsis. you’re professor gojo’s TA—the catch? you both are romantically involved. what do you do when professor geto happens to accidentally walk in on you giving a blowjob? let him fuck you so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t tell a soul, of course

length. 5.1k words (deep, big, heavy sigh)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, college au, teacher-student relationships, prof! satoru + suguru, TA! reader, power imbalance, age gaps (reader is early twenties and satoru + suguru are early thirties), semi public sex (at campus in satoru’s office), suguru walking in on you and satoru, threesomes, fingering + blowjobs + hair pulling + throat fucking + cum swallowing (satoru), male masturbation + edging (suguru), unprotected sex + (one) clit slap + creampie (suguru), pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, princess, pretty girl, good girl), not proof read—i am a raw dog kinda gal

notes. i would highly discourage having intimate relations with a professor—but….if your professor looks like gojo or geto, i’m blind babe. i ain’t see nothing. i won’t tell a soul

“you guys wanna get lunch?” nobara hums, “we’re all here.”

megumi, as always, looks like he’s about to say no—he probably wants to go home as quickly as possible. but that’s not an option because before he can, yuji has already piped up with an enthusiastic, “yeah! i’m down.”

you fiddle your fingers nervously—how are you supposed to get out of this one? you’d just used the excuse of grading assignments for satoru yesterday, and surely you couldn’t possibly have a fresh pile of them to grade again within twenty-four hours, right? it’d be a suspicious excuse, especially one for nobara, who seems to sniff out a lie a little too easily. 

it’s not that you don’t want to hang out with your friends, you love them. really. but you promised you’d be in satoru’s office in fifteen minutes—and you’re not about to keep him waiting, so lunch will have to wait for another time.

you’re still thinking of a usable excuse when she turns to you herself, unimpressed as she dryly says, “i assume you have some midterm review to help him polish or something,” she grumbles, “gojo is so lazy,” she scoffs.

oh—well, that wasn’t very hard. she’s just made it ten times easier for you. nobara has handed you the perfect excuse right in the palm of your hand, and before you can even play it off casually, yuji cuts in and distracts her. bless yuji, you think to yourself.

“hey, professor gojo is a great guy! we all passed with an A! isn’t that great?”

“everyone gets an A in his class, dumbass,” megumi grunts, rolling his eyes, “not getting an A in his class practically means you’re deliberately trying to do poorly.”

on campus, professor gojo is a fan favorite—his rate my professor score is a perfect five stars, and most of the students around campus rave about him. why? because he gives out the letter grade A+ like it’s candy. anyone would love a professor like that. 

he doesn’t ever take attendance or knock your grade down when you skip class, his assignments are always easy to google answers to, and the quizzes have unlimited time and attempts. his tests are straightforward enough that even if you never pay attention, doing the review he uploads is sure to help you cram enough to pass. and what’s better? he always adds a generous curve. not only that, but professor gojo is a friendly guy—he loves talking to his students, loves to ramble away if you stop him in the halls or visit during office hours, loves to listen to your stories and nod along in interest, loves to crack jokes and have a good laugh.

everyone loves professor gojo. and when they leave his class with an A+, they love him even more. 

you had an A+ in physics yourself when you took his class—and you hate physics. you hated it in high school, and you hate it now. but for gojo satoru? you’re almost a physics enthusiast. professor gojo—or rather, satoru, as you call him now, takes a liking to you. a very…strong liking, if you will. 

it all starts on a fateful monday afternoon two semesters ago—it’s one thirty pm, the busiest hour on campus. sometimes, it feels like everyone takes classes at one pm—and as such, getting a table in the university coffee shop is almost impossible. you’re just about to give up and leave with your coffee and sandwich after scanning the place when a wave of a hand catches your attention. 

it’s professor gojo. 

need a seat? he asks you, gesturing at the chair in front of him at his table—it’s a smooth, amused little drawl, the way he talks. it’s almost always a borderline teasing tone, and his voice is low enough that it sounds oddly enticing. you’ve heard enough girls lust over his voice in class to know you’re not the only one who sometimes appreciates the sound. 

you try to insist that you wouldn’t want to intrude, but professor gojo is a nice guy; always looks out for his students and helps them out. so, when he insists that he doesn’t mind you taking the spare seat as he grades a few assignments, well…you decide to sheepishly thank him and sit across from him, finally having somewhere to sit and eat before you’re off to your next class. 

and then it begins.

every now and then, you sit across from your physics professor in the crowded coffee shop on campus as you enjoy a cold brew and a sandwich before your next class. somehow, he always manages to snatch a table, and somehow, you always manage to find him. you like to ramble to him sometimes—how professor nanami is a bit too strict for your liking (he giggles at that), how professor ieri always seems too tired and miserable to be here (he nods and agrees), and how professor geto is nice, but he takes literature pretty seriously (he gives you an amused look at that as he hums.)

somewhere along the line, he asks you to be his TA for the following semester—and somewhere further along that line…well, perhaps the one-on-one talks as you sit together at a table for two felt a little too close to something of a romantic setting because you and professor gojo kiss in his office while he calls you in to explain your TA responsibilities. 

that was never supposed to happen. 

you don’t even remember who leaned in first, or whose arms were the first to wrap around the other, or who tugged who closer, but you both kiss. and then some. and then it happens again, and again, and again—and, well…you’re professor gojo’s, or better yet, satoru’s best kept secret.

you go to his office to grade assignments for him—in between if he steals a few kisses, who’s to know? sometimes, he’s a bit riskier, likes to spread his legs and free his cock and have your hand stroke him as he eyes the door. it’s always a nice view to watch him unbutton a few buttons of his shirt and bite back moans. other days, he likes to slip his hand past your waistband and toy with your clit—the amused glint in his eyes, as he tells you not to get distracted and keep grading when you gasp always, earns him a sharp glare.

it’s like that for the semester, just you and him in his little office where you can break the rules in the safety of secrecy. 

that is, until now. 

admittedly, this isn’t the best time to be doing this—professor geto likes to have lunch with satoru around this time, and you know you’re cutting it close…but he just looks so pretty like this, head fallen back against his chair as his lips part with a soft gasp.

you’re on your knees, looking up as you suck on the tip of his stiff cock before taking him down your throat, bobbing your head up and down. it’s a rewarding position to be in—to have the hot, loved, campus favorite professor that everyone thirsts over falling apart in your mouth, hands gripping the arms of his chair as he pants harshly above you.

he looks pretty—always does, always looks good enough that you can feel the ache between your legs get worse. the messy strands of his hair stick to his damp forehead, and his lips are always so pink and plump when he bites them like that, and who can forget the way his eyes turn just a shade darker of that bright blue?

you hum around him, making him groan as he mumbles, “f-fuck, you’re so good, sweetheart—always know how to make me feel good.”

you press a kiss to his tip, smearing the bead of pre cum leaking from his slit along your lips before licking them clean—he closes his eyes and groans at that. you can’t help but giggle, can’t help but press more kisses along his hardened length until you’re at the base of his cock. 

“pretty little lips,” he hums, reaching to rub his thumb over your bottom lip as you open your mouth, letting him slip into your mouth—he hums approvingly as your tongue swirls around the digit, sucking slowly. “‘s like you were made for taking me, huh?”

“‘course i was,” you grin cheekily—and then you’re back to sucking on his cock, tongue rubbing over that thick vein you love to trace and reaching a hand to play with his balls. he moans—it’s low but still whiny enough that you can’t help but feel so proud at how needy he is, how desperately he always wants you. no matter the risk.

except the risk is probably not the wisest one to test today because just as satoru lets out a particularly loud whine when you swallow around him, the door clicks open and…

oh. 

oh no. 

this…this isn’t good—this is terrible, in fact. this is the worst possible outcome to the worst possible thing you’ve done, and now you’re screwed. entirely destroyed, in fact—the both of you. here goes your admission and your progress on your degree, and here goes satoru’s entire career and everything he’s worked for, and all because you couldn’t help but give him a blowjob in the middle of his office with the door unlocked where his best friend can walk right in and get a full view.

and worse? this best friend of his happens to be another professor on campus who you happen to have had just last semester. you’re sure he knows you; you’re his former student, after all, and he must certainly know his best friend’s TA. 

professor geto blinks—his eyes go back and forth between you and satoru and the still-hard cock between his legs that’s glistening with your spit as you sit on your knees. yeah—there’s no explaining this one.

“well,” he says blankly, “i guess that’s on me for not knocking, huh?”

“suguru,” satoru grumbles, “some of us are busy y’know? can’t you come back later?”

you turn to satoru in shock—how can he be so normal about this? how can he just casually act like this is some random hook-up his friend walked in on instead of a (very illegal and very unprofessional) teacher-student relationship that could get the two of you in more trouble than you can comprehend? 

but professor geto doesn’t seem even the slightest bit concerned. there’s no look of disgust or panic or even anger at you and satoru for your unprofessional habits. there’s no alarm at the distasteful activities you’re doing in the middle of a university office where anyone could potentially walk in on. and then there’s satoru—he doesn’t even bother making himself decent or pulling you from your knees.

no, instead, he looks at professor geto in slight irritation as the latter stands there. 

“so this is what you’re always busy doing in your office, huh?” professor geto hums, chuckling in amusement, “i have to say, you at least have good taste, satoru. she’s excellent in and outside the classroom, it seems.”

“yeah, she’s a keeper,” satoru hums, cupping your cheek as he grins down at you, “now if you don’t mind, suguru, we’re in the middle of something.”

“and what do you plan on doing if this gets around?” professor geto raises a brow, unimpressed.

you look at him in panic at that—surely…surely he can’t mean that he would be the one to spread this around, right? surely he wouldn’t throw his best friend under the bus, correct? if not for you, then for satoru’s sake, he’d never let this information find another soul. otherwise…otherwise you’ll both lose everything. all the hard work and progress you’ve made, all of satoru’s experience and years building his career, and all the future opportunities you had coming up—all of it will be for nothing if professor geto says one word. 

people wouldn’t have a hard time believing it either, you think. sometimes your own friends like to poke fun at you themselves. 

you’re always with him, are you sure you’re not in love with the guy at this point? nobara always likes to snort at you.

why does professor gojo even keep you around? you’re too lazy—you must give good head, megumi tends to tease as he raises a brow with amused eyes.

with how often you’re in professor gojo’s room, you might as well have a crush on him, yuji sometimes giggles.

surely, with how often you’re seen in the coffee shop with him as he grades papers and how often he likes to tease you when you show up to his classroom sometimes to drop off papers, students would certainly take the rumors and spread them like wildfire if professor geto says even the littlest thing. 

you look at him with wobbly lips as you whisper, “please don’t tell anyone,” you sniffle, “i…maybe there’s something we can do…to keep you from…”

the two of them look at you in shock—they stare at you for a moment, stare at the crystalline tears welling up in your eyes, at the soft little tremor in your lips, at the sweet little sniffles you try to hide. then, as if in sync, their eyes meet each other’s before finding you once more.

“oh, that’s precious,” professor geto chuckles, “she really is a keeper, satoru—she even looks pretty when she cries. i’m almost jealous.”

“don’t look for too long, suguru,” satoru grumbles—and then, “listen, sweetheart, you don’t have to worry. suguru’s not gonna—”

“well, if there is something you’d wanna do for me,” professor geto cuts satoru off, his voice a low drawl as he walks closer, hand cupping your jaw as he tilts your face up, “i suppose i can keep my mouth shut.”

“anything,” you nod quickly.

you’re so eager to please, he thinks—so perfect and sweet and pliant, that suguru thinks he might actually really be jealous that somehow, it was satoru who caught your attention. how did this all start? when did it start? how long has it been going on? do you have real feelings for each other? or is it just a pleasurable business kind of deal? do you meet up outside of campus? does he take you to the next town over to freely walk around with you on dates? do you kiss sweetly sometimes instead of with hunger? have you ever spent a night in his bed? do you sleep better beside each other, wrapped in the other’s arms?

there are so many, many questions suguru wants to ask. the potential answers to all of them make him a bit more unhappy than he cares to admit. something in him wonders how things might’ve had to play out in order to land you in his office instead—but…but if you’re offering anything, why not take advantage of the offer?

“anything?” he asks, looking at you amused, “you know, princess, anything is a dangerous offer. what if i asked to join? what if i asked to fuck you here in this office so your secret is safe?”

you blink up at him for a moment at his words—they’re a bit shocking. professor geto…doesn’t think this is wrong? clearly, he doesn’t if he’s willing to take part. but that doesn’t sound half bad. not even in the slightest. 

they’re a popular pair: professor gojo and geto are all people on campus ever talk about. those two professors who happen to be best friends. they’re not much older than you either—can’t be past their early thirties, even if they don’t look a day over twenty. 

did you know they used to go to college together? i heard they’ve known each other since high school. apparently, they applied to work here together and only took the offer up once the other agreed. it’s all people ever gossip about when they mention them both. it’s always about how close they are, how deep their bond is, how there is never one without the other. and then, of course, there are those…the less than appropriate comments you occasionally hear the other girls make. i bet professor gojo gives the best head—he’s always sucking on some lollipop. i’d let professor geto do nasty things to me while i read his literature books out loud to him—he’s too fine. i can take both of them—and i don’t mean their classes. 

it’s…not exactly a bad offer that he gives you, you think to yourself. it’s an enticing one, in fact. you get to have them both—professor geto isn’t any less attractive than satoru and…and well, you’d really like for him to keep this a secret, so it’s a bit of a win-win. plus, you’re sure he wouldn’t risk spilling such delicate information when it would put his career at risk, too—it seems like the perfect leverage.

you look at your old literature professor with a nod as you murmur, “then i’d say you should make sure to lock the door this time—we don’t want to make the same mistake twice, do we?”

his eyes sparkle in amusement at that, a low chuckle falling from his pretty lips as he shakes his head at you—you’re even better than he expected. satoru is so, so lucky he’s got to have you to himself all this time. it’s criminally unfair. 

“hey,” satoru pouts from behind, still sitting in his chair and still painfully hard as his throbbing cock sits between his legs unattended. “you both are forgetting about me,” he whines.

professor geto—or rather, suguru, you suppose, only looks at his best friend in amusement. “now, satoru—what have i always told you about sharing? here—” he walks over and pulls satoru to stand before taking the seat himself and patting his thigh as he looks at you with a sly grin, “why don’t i get to feel your pussy, and satoru can have your mouth like before? then we both get what we want.”

“bossy as ever, suguru,” satoru chuckles, but there’s something in his eyes—something darker and more excited than you’ve ever seen them.

“get her ready for me,” suguru hums, fingers making quick work to unbuckle his belt and free his hardened cock. you can’t help but stare, can’t help but watch as he wraps his fist around his hardened length and runs his thumb through his slit with a low moan. 

he’s not as long, but he’s thicker than satoru—you can easily tell he won’t be any easier to take. you watch attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of his cock with this thumb as he strokes upward, rolling around his tip before stroking down and squeezing at the base. you watch his lips tug between his teeth, a soft moan ripping from his throat as he touches himself in the way he likes best.

you’ll remember what he likes, you think—you can sense this might not be your first and last opportunity to see suguru like this. and next time? well, next time, it’ll be your hand touching his cock and pulling those pretty little sighs and groans from him instead of his own.

“eyes on me, sweetheart,” satoru hums, pulling you to stand before gently guiding your back to fall against his desk, fingers looping into your waistband and pulling your pants down your legs. you can hear the sharp inhale suguru takes as soon as the wetness of your folds is on display, as soon as your puffy clit and dripping pussy are there for him to see so clearly. “watch carefully, suguru,” satoru grins, “she’s pretty when she cums.”

“i can imagine,” suguru muses, “alright then. show me.”

instantly, satoru’s fingers are intruding into your cunt—it’s familiar, the sensation of his digits bullying past your folds and curling against your sweet spot. he’s already knuckles deep, already pressing the tips of his fingers into the back of your walls as far as they’ll go, spreading you open and scissoring you apart. it feels good—it always does, and when his palm rolls across your clit? you can’t help but let out a whiny moan that earns a groan from suguru as he fists his cock tighter. 

“god, she even sounds so pretty,” he pants, watching as satoru’s fingers slip in and out of your pretty cunt, at the way it all but sucks them in itself as it flutters around him. everything about you is perfect—but your face is by far suguru’s favorite. the way it twists with pleasure as satoru slams his fingers against your spot mercilessly with every thrust of his wrist has him fighting off his orgasm—his fist slowing down to a teasing edge as he grunts at the way he lets his pleasure die down for the sake of really feeling you. 

“that feel good, angel?” satoru asks, grinning down at you. 

you nod quickly, head thrown back against the wooden desk as you stutter, “y-yes…s-so good, toru.”

“toru?” suguru asks, “do i get a nickname too? make sure you come up with one for me, yeah?”

it’s almost like you don’t hear him, too busy on the way satoru drags along your walls with every time his fingers sink into you. “toru, toru—s-slow down, ‘m g-gonna…”

“slow down?” satoru gasps—his pace only quickens at that as he gives you a mocking pout, “you want me to slow down, sweetheart? you never ask me to slow down, it’s always faster, toru. faster, please! from you. you don’t wanna give suguru the wrong idea, do you? he’ll think i haven’t taught you how to take it like a good girl.”

suguru snorts at that, slowly dragging his hand up and down his sensitive cock—it’s red at the tip, flushed, and leaky enough that it’s easy to tell he’s aching for release.

“hurry up, satoru,” he grits, biting his lip as he fights back another orgasm and stills his hand, keeping it tightened around the base of his length, “we haven’t got all day.”

“can’t rush making my pretty girl cum, suguru,” satoru gasps, “she deserves the best. look at this pussy—” he gives pulls his fingers out to give your clit attention, rubbing your slick over the sensitive bud as you gasp, writhing over his desk, “—see how perfect it is? you gotta treat it like that too.”

as if from his words alone, as if you get off on the way satoru praises your cunt to his best friend who watches you get stuffed to the brim with his fingers, you whimper before cumming—your pussy fluttering around nothing, walls spasming and dripping with slick as he toys with your clit. 

“toru—toru, ‘m cumming…cumming—oh,” you babble, thighs quivering as his thumb doesn’t let up from your abused clit, watching as your hand reaches for his wrist weakly to halt his movements. “‘s too much,” you sniffle.

“too much?” suguru gasps, “how will you take me, then, princess? don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?”

“nah,” satoru grins, chuckling, “she’s got plenty left in her. she can take it.” with that, he hooks an arm under your waist and helps you sit up, leaning down to kiss you softly as you let out a muffled whine against his lips. “you’re ready for suguru, aren’t you, baby? prepped you nice and good to take him, didn’t i?”

you nod, mumbling a soft, “uh huh,” in agreement.

“that’s my good girl,” he coos, grinning as he presses a wet kiss to your forehead. 

suguru, patient as ever with a stiff, aching cock standing between his muscled thighs, holds an arm out for you as he murmurs, “c’mere then, princess. can’t back out of our deal yet, can you?” you walk over to him on wobbly legs, letting him pull you to sit on his lap, back flush against his chest as his hands guide your hips. he taps the head of his cock against your clit as he lines your entrance up with his length before pulling you to sit, slowly inching you down on him bit by bit as he gasps at the way you squeeze around him instantly. “h-holy—fuck, such a tight fuckin’ pussy. ‘s like i can barely even move,” he grunts, chin resting on your shoulder as he pants.

satoru walks over, staring down at you as you’re seated on suguru’s lap before cupping your cheek and rubbing over the soft skin with his thumb. “you can take both of us, right sweetheart? you’re just too good not to, aren’t ya?”

you nod eagerly, letting the tip of his cock tap against your lip, tongue moving to lick across his slit and make him groan. he’s painfully hard—cock swollen and neglected for so long, you almost forgot that he’s been waiting for your mouth to take him again after being interrupted. your jaw slacks as you let him thrust his hips and fuck his length into you, tip hitting the back of your throat as you choke around him. 

“fuck,” satoru hisses lowly, biting his lip as his hands grab your hair and keep you in place while he ruts into your mouth, “fuck, baby. never get tired of how good this mouth feels—takes me so fuckin’ well. jus’ love feelin’ me down your throat, huh?”

you can’t do anything but let out a muffled cry, feeling the fat tip of suguru’s cock nudge against your sweet spot—it’s just as effortless: the way he finds your most sensitive part. just as effortless as satoru. maybe that’s why they get along so well, maybe they’re connected in that way. 

“oh, princess,” suguru moans, panting against your ear as he lets out a breathy moan, “fuck, that’s good—so, good. can hardly move with the way you’re squeezing me. greedy little pussy, isn’t it?”

you whine as you feel his arm wrap around you, finger rolling over your puffy clit as his hips snap upwards and fuck into you, cock dragging along your walls and stretching you enough that you can hardly think straight. he’s big—it feels like he’s almost splitting you open with his girth as his hips roll up and sink him deeper into your cunt.

“she’s…she’s perfect,” suguru pants, “keepin’ this all to yourself? how selfish of you, satoru.”

“she’s mine,” satoru whines, cock pushing past your lips as he speaks, the way your tongue glides along his vein making his cheeks flush as his eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open with a breathless moan. “she’s too good to share with you. you d-don’t deserve her.”

“yeah? and you do?” suguru chuckles—it sounds more like a labored pant, his breath harsh as he groans into your neck when you flutter particularly tightly around him, forehead falling to dig into your shoulder, “she’s suckin’ me in. think she wants me. don’t you, pretty girl? you want me to cum inside you, right? make you mine too?”

“y-yes,” you mewl, popping off satoru’s length as you whimper when suguru chuckles and gives your clit a light slap, back arching against him as he pushes his cock past your folds again, “yes, wan’ it. wan’ it so, so bad—need it.”

“see,” he raises a brow towards satoru, “knew it.”

you can see the way satoru’s cock twitches at that—at the way you fall apart on suguru’s lap as the latter digs his head into your shoulder as he breathes harshly, chasing his release desperately as he ruts into your slick pussy. you can see the way satoru’s tip is flushed a harsh red, leaking with pre cum as he aches to spill cum down your throat, so you let him push past your lips once more—but not before giving his tip a delicate kiss. 

“she’s my girl,” satoru grunts, “mine, mine, mine—knows how to make me cum. kn-knows how to take me so good, right baby?”

and as if to answer him, you suck around his tip, swallowing around his length and making him groan as his hips stutter and cum paints your throat white as it fills your mouth. you try to swallow every drop, try to take what he gives you as he fucks into you desperately and chases the pleasure of his high. thick, hot ropes of cum spill from the corners of your lips as satoru fucks his load into you, panting as his hips sloppily roll and work himself through his orgasm.

“that’s right, sweetheart,” he groans lowly, “take it, yeah? god—fuck, feels so good, baby. ‘m c-cumming.”

you make a sound between a choked whine and sharp gasp as suguru’s thumb rubs harshly against your swollen clit, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he groans, hips just as sloppy as satoru’s in his pace that it tells you he’s close too—and then he twitches into your pussy, cock burying into you once, twice, three more times before he groans too.

“gonna cum, princess? ‘cause ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum—fill you up and make you mine. you want that right? want me to—f-fuck, fuck ‘m close, so close,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, letting out a needy whine into your skin before spilling into you. you can feel hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as his tip nudges back into you and pushes his load as deep as he can.

and you fall apart too, coming undone a second time as your walls hug around him tightly, head falling back as you mewl a high pitched, “s-sugu—c-can’t…’s too much—”

“you can take it, pretty,” he hums, “know you can. you’re too precious not to, right?”

it’s messy—it’s downright filthy, in fact, the way his cum and your slick mix and drip along your inner thighs, making a mess on satoru’s chair. you pant as your pussy pulses around him before coming down from your high, falling slack in his arms against his chest as he chuckles and presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“fuck,” he breathes, “you’re something else. who’d have thought my favorite little student from a previous semester could do all that?”

“isn’t she a dime?” satoru chuckles proudly, reaching for the corner of your mouth with his thumb, collecting a stray drop of cum and pushing it back past your lips and onto your tongue, humming approvingly as you swallow. “precious, isn’t she?”

“of course,” suguru nods, with a grin, leaning to peck your shoulder, “so, tell me. which professor would you take again?”

satoru purses his lips as he glares. “this isn’t rate my professor, suguru. and don’t get used to thi—”

“well,” you hum, interrupting as you bat your lashes sweetly at both of them, “why i can’t just take both of you again?”

guess who’s posting their october first kinktober fic literally 40 mins before it’s october second ?? if it’s not procrastinated, it’s not reached its full potential

[dollfacefantasy]

SNOW ON THE GLASS ♡

pairing: dilf!leon kennedy x fem!reader x milf!ada wong

summary: you love your job as the kennedys nanny. it's fairly easy and pays great. plus you may have a tiny crush on your bosses. but as it turns out, they may reciprocate that feeling more than you know.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, mild dubcon, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), daddy kink, mommy kink, intoxication/intox kink, breeding kink, praise kink, age gap (late 30s, early 20s)

a/n: birthday gift for my wonderful bestie @explorevenus!! i love you so so much <3 also also also, imagine them both at their re6 ages, i just couldn't find any pics of re6 ada i liked sue me 😔

Little white flakes of snow landed one after another on the clear pane of glass in front of your face. You chewed your bottom lip while watching the flurries compile on the window, and in-turn, your car parked in the driveway.

Behind you, a pair of sharp heels clacked against the tile floor as the owner of said driveway returned to the room. Ada stepped through the archway and down the half-step to approach you by the front door. Laying a gentle hand on your shoulder, she smiled when you turned to look at her.

“Here’s your check, sweetheart,” she said, bringing a small rectangular paper to brush against your fingertips.

“Thank you,” you replied as you took it from her. Your eyes immediately made their way back to the storm outside that grew worse by the second.

She followed your gaze, her palm staying in place on your shoulder. Unlike you, Ada’s face remained composed. She wasn’t worried in the slightest. She’d known this storm was coming. It was an integral part of her plan for tonight.

But despite her internal calmness, she furrowed her dark brows and injected some worry into her tone.

“It’s getting bad out there. That snow is just piling up,” she proclaimed, “There’s no way you should be driving in weather like that.”

Reluctantly, you nodded. Your thoughts had been reaching the same conclusion. You were just hesitant to voice them because after a long day of work, you yearned for the comfort of your apartment. It was finally the weekend, and your plush bed and soft sheets called to you. You’d been dreaming of the quiet between those walls all day. The privacy to do whatever you wanted that you didn’t have when you were here for most hours of the week. 

Make no mistake, you loved your job as the Kennedys full-time nanny, but regardless of your enjoyment, it was still work that required a lot of attention and labor. Their daughter was the sweetest child you’d ever met; however, carting her to and from dance class and kindergarten along with making her food, playing with her, and putting her down for naps piled up on you.

“Maybe if I leave now, I can make it…” you thought aloud.

“Oh please. Honey, you live across town. You’d have to take the highway, and people drive crazy as is. I should know, my husband is one of them,” she joked.

Your brows raised at the mention of Leon. You hadn’t even thought about how your other employer would get home tonight. You looked over your shoulder at her again. “Do you think he’ll be ok? It’s coming down really hard out there,” you said.

“Oh he’ll be fine,” she waved off, “His friend is giving him a ride home tonight. I’m sure they’ll make it in one piece.”

Releasing a small breath of relief, you nodded again.

“It’s really no problem if you stay,” she continued, “We have the guest room all set up. It has a bathroom attached, so you’d have total privacy. And I wouldn’t make you watch Christina or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh no,” you reassured, “It’s not that, don’t worry. I just don’t want to be a burden on you and Mr. Kennedy.”

“You’re never a burden on us. With all you do for Christina, you’re practically part of the family. I wouldn’t want you driving off and getting into an accident just because you didn’t want to impose. I’m sure you know that we have more than enough space in this house,” she said and ran her hand over your bicep down to your wrist. Her manicured nails scraped over your skin, eliciting a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

You felt a simmer of heat in your chest upon hearing those kind words coming from her painted lips. That combined with the teasing touch had your heart pumping a little faster in your chest. It was something you rarely thought about, but maybe, just maybe, a tiny part of why you enjoyed this job so much was because both of your employers looked like reoccuring stars in people’s wet dreams all over the world.

“Thank you. I would really appreciate it,” you answered, your prior trepidation dissolving under the heat of her gaze. You slid your check into your purse and then placed the bag back down on the end table by the door.

She smirked, though she tried to make it appear as an earnest smile. Of course, Ada sensed the little crush you had on her and her husband. It wasn’t hard to tell given the way you preened in the face of the slightest of compliments or gave them the look a puppy would give its owner whenever they praised you for your hard work.

“Great,” she said, “Come with me. I’ll put on some dinner. We’ll get you fed and then I’ll show you to your room and be out of your hair for the night.”

Her slender fingers clasped around your hand, guiding you back through that archway and towards the kitchen. The two of you passed by a few family portraits and expensive paintings before reaching your destination - the luxurious kitchen that probably held a value higher than all the money you’d made in your life.

You could fit about six of your kitchens in this one. That would be another nice thing about staying here for the night, getting to use the high end items they had stocked rather than the odds and ends you owned.

She led you across the gray marble floors over to the spacious island, all but sitting you down on one of the stools.

“You just relax for a few minutes, and I’ll work on the food,” she said.

You took your seat, not willing to protest her hospitality further. Your eyes scanned around the kitchen you’d become so familiar with over the last year. She walked into the pantry for a couple seconds, returning with a box and some small containers before setting them on the counter.

“You like pasta?” she asked.

“Who doesn’t?” you responded.

She let out a small laugh at that. “No wonder Leon likes you so much. A girl after his own heart.”

Your heart fluttered at the idea that Mr. Kennedy liked you. Before hearing that, you didn’t suspect he had any problems with you. In fact, he let you know all the time that he was pleased with your performance and couldn’t ask for anyone better to take care of Christina. But appreciating you and liking you were two separate things, the latter of which gave you that warm feeling in your stomach.

In the corner of the counters, Ada bent down to grab a pot. Your eyes went with her, dragging along her figure to where her form-fitting black slacks covered the swell of her ass. As soon as you realized you were staring, you averted your gaze. You pushed out any further thoughts about how her red blouse was probably unbuttoned at the top, allowing a clear view of her breasts down the front of the shirt.

She stood back up with the pot in hand and filled it with some water. Tapping the electric stove to life, she put it on to boil. You watched as she poured some oil in the water and then grabbed a pan to put on for what you assumed would be the sauce.

With both pieces heating up, she moved to the cabinets up above. She reached for the one next to the section that held all of Christina’s dishes, her sippy cups and princess plates. The cupboard you took from most of the time you were here.

Instead of grabbing a Little Mermaid themed piece of tupperware, her hand retrieved two wine glasses. She spun around to face you and brought the fragile items over to the island. After placing them in front of you, she stepped into a nearby alcove, the place you knew they kept all the liquor.

She came back with a nice bottle, something more rich than you’d ever drink on your own. Popping it open, she went to pour, but you interrupted.

“I don’t really need any,” you said with a timid smile.

While you weren’t a prude about drinking under other circumstances, Ada was still your boss. Being under any kind of influence around her held a risk you didn’t find worth taking.

She just smirked at you though, not making any effort to conceal it this time.

“C’mon, loosen up a bit,” she coaxed, “You’re not on the clock. You’ve been working all week, even later today since I was late. Take it as my apology.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You paid me for the overtime,” you replied.

“Still. Keeping you longer than expected on short notice is inconsiderate,” she said. 

She rounded the counter with the bottle and your glass in hand. Upon reaching you, she set the glass down directly in front of you with the bottle beside it. The proximity left no room for hesitation. One of her hands came up, brushing across the back of your neck to rest on your shoulder like it had earlier.

“You’re not saying no because you think this is some sort of test, do you? Because I wouldn’t bother with something like that, sweetheart. I was young once too,” she told you. You swore she was leaning in closer as her voice became more of a purr next to your ear, but you didn’t dare look. “I know how good a drink can feel after a long week. You’re human. My husband and I don’t expect you to be a child-friendly saint even when you’re not working,” she continued.

Her fingers rubbed miniscule circles on the cloth of your top. You still didn’t think it was the best idea to drink around your boss, but Ada had never given you a reason not to trust her. It was quite the opposite. Most days, the Kennedys seemed too good to be true.

You knew they were human. Occasionally while speaking to you, they’d slip in a jab about the other or allude to some sort of marital problem that sprouted up after years of being together. They’d make mistakes like coming home late or forgetting to tell you that Christina’s dance lesson had been canceled until you were already on the way there.

But when it came to their relationships with you, they were absolute dreams. They gave you expensive gifts for your birthday and Christmas. Paid you above what was the standard for nannies in this area. Talked to you like someone they were interested in rather than a person they were forced to interact with. And hell, now they were offering up their home to you when you needed it.

“Alright. If it’s ok with you,” you agreed.

“That’s what I like to hear,” she said and tilted the bottle towards your glass.

Deep red liquid spilled into the curved dish. She wasn’t shy with how much she gave you, that was for sure. You could already smell that heady aroma swirling around the air.

“You can have as much as you’d like. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, we want you to feel at home here with us,” she said.

Before she walked away, her hand swept down your back, stroking it with a domineering, almost maternal sort of affection. It sent another round of chills through your body. You reached for the wine glass and gripped the stem hard. It was probably for the best that she and her husband weren’t actually around for most of your work here if this was how you reacted to a simple touch.

You brought the glass to your lips and sipped some of the liquid as she poured her own. After taking down some of the drink to numb your responsive nerves, you set it down again. You didn’t want to over-indulge.

“I really do feel at home here. I wasn’t saying no because I’m not comfortable with you. I just really care about what you and Mr. Kennedy think of me. I wouldn’t want you thinking you hired someone irresponsible to watch over your daughter,” you explained. What was left unspoken was that you didn’t want either of them thinking you were trashy in your own right either.

She nodded and stirred the bubbling sauce on the stove. She had to stop herself from saying I know. “That’s good. But you don’t need to worry so much. Both me and my husband think very highly of you,” she said instead.

A rush coursed through you upon hearing that. You smiled and raised your glass again, ingesting some more of the intoxicating liquid.

She watched out of the corner of her eye. It was a struggle to keep quiet and not fawn over how adorable you looked when you got all giddy. She kept her attention on dinner though, adding the noodles when the water reached a boil and spicing the sauce.

There was nothing she needed to say right now. She’d just be quiet and let you nurse that drink. It wasn’t that she needed the alcohol for what she wanted to do tonight. She could probably seduce you right now without much effort if she so desired. But tonight had been well-planned out, and for all the effort she put into it, she was gonna get everything she wanted out of it.

Ada had wanted you since the day they hired you. She could still remember the cute little outfit you wore on that Sunday you showed up for your interview. A nice plaid skirt with a dark sweater up top. Objectively modest but still attractive enough to garner attention. You’d been so polite, sitting with your ankles crossed and perfect posture. She could tell you were fighting off nerves with each answer you gave her and Leon. You were only the second candidate they’d met with, but Ada dismissed any other option before you’d even said your goodbyes.

That craving for you only became more intense over the last month or so. She’d had enough of coming home to you passed out on the couch, all sprawled out and vulnerable but not being able to take advantage. She was sick of only feeling grazes of the silken nature of your skin as she caught you before and after your shift.

That was why she calculated everything for tonight down to the minute. It would go off without a hitch. This wasn’t one of Leon’s missions that stumbled along and almost collapsed at multiple points before barely reaching the correct target. No, she’d thought this through.

By the end of the night, she would have you in the palms of her and Leon’s hands. She’d known this snow storm was coming, and she’d intentionally stayed a little later at work so that she’d be home by the time it was already raging outside and you’d put Christina to bed. She’d have the guest room for you, but you wouldn’t have any of your own belongings, which meant she’d have chances to lure you into her territory. She’d get you all peaceful and pliant by giving you a nice dinner and a fair amount of drinks. Everything would play out just like she intended it to.

She longed to see you at a baser state without any of your usual modesty impeding on your desires. She wanted you all giggling and cute, falling into her arms and spreading your legs without even being asked. You would love it. She just had to show you that.

She hummed to herself at a low volume while finishing up the food. Combining the curled pasta with the creamy sauce, she scooped two helpings onto each plate and made her way over to you with the dishes.

The two of you sat at the island, eating and drinking and talking. The conversation started on Christina but moved around to your personal life and her job among other subjects. She made sure to top off your wine whenever it got close to being empty.

“I know this job must keep you pretty busy, but do you do anything outside of it?” she eventually asked, “Maybe school or some other interests taking up your time?”

“Um… well,” you answered, “I tried out school for a while, and it wasn’t really the best fit for me… I messed around with some other things, and you know how that goes.”

A little laugh slipped from your lips. Your words were definitely more free-flowing than usual.

“Well there’s nothing wrong with taking things day by day,” she replied with a warm smile. She took a sip of her own drink before continuing her point. “You’re still young. You could stumble on something you don’t even know about right now.”

“Exactly!” you responded, all too excited to have someone agree with you, “That’s exactly how I feel. Like you know, this job. I feel like I won the lottery with you guys most days I’m here.”

“That makes me so happy to hear,” she said.

“It’s the truth. Ugh, the kids I babysat in high school were nightmares. And their parents barely paid me anything. I wasn’t even allowed to eat the food at the house. It was horrible. But you guys, you’re perfect I swear. Christina is so sweet and funny and smart. And this house is great. And you and Mr. Kennedy, you two… you’re like dreams,” you rambled.

“Really?” she asked with mild amusement. She set her drink down and leaned forward on her forearms.

The way your eyes widened and your lips parted, you looked like a little fish upon realizing how your last statement sounded. “I just mean you guys are like so great to work for. My favorite job I’ve ever had for sure,” you added.

She reached out, laying her smooth hand on your wrist. “That’s so sweet of you, honey. You’re great to have around too. Much better than our last nanny,” she said, “She always had some complaint about something, and her hours never ended up being consistent. Plus, she wasn’t as cute as you.”

The statement struck you like a bolt of lightning. You were sure your eyes widened to the size of gold medals. Heat oozed up from your chest into your face. This honestly felt like a dream. In reality, you were supposed to think your boss was hot. You were supposed to thirst after them, pine for moments of reciprocation that would never actually happen. But one just did.

“Oh, thank you,” you shrugged, an involuntary smile pulling at your mouth.

A low, knowing laugh echoed from her without her lips ever breaking that calculated smile. Ada’s rich eyes stayed on yours, not letting you get a reprieve from eye contact that lasted longer than a handful of seconds. Her fingertips massaged little circles onto your wrist as you spoke. The light touches felt like the tips of sparklers against your skin. Each one sent tingling warmth up your arm down to your belly.

“Oh come on, don’t look so nervous,” she said, “You must get compliments like that all the time. You’re a very pretty girl.”

Again, you shrugged. “I guess,” you answered. The weight of her attention pressed on you, causing your gaze to lower to your lap.

She didn’t let you get away though. One of her hands ventured up to cup your jaw and pull your face upright. Her fingers lingered there as she stared at you. The curled, the flat backs of her knuckles smoothing across your cheek.

“Do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?” she asked.

Your pulse thundered in your ears. You shook your head no.

She hummed in response. Her fingers continued exploring the expanse of your cheek before dropping to lie on your shoulder.

“That’s good. No need to tie yourself to one person at your age. Though you do deserve someone to take care of you,” she said.

That dull heat in your stomach had long outgrown something so mild. It festered into full arousal by this point, a need hot and pulsating between your thighs. You bit your lip. It was all you could do to keep yourself from squirming in an attempt to grind on the stool.

“I can take care of myself,” you said, though the tone of your voice alone called the truth of that claim into question.

She laughed softly, the sound light and condescending. Her hand glided back and forth along your shoulder in short strokes.

“I’m sure you can, sweet girl. But you shouldn’t have to. You spend all week caring for someone else. You deserve to relax in your free time and have someone take over,” she said.

A visible shiver ran through you. Your teeth dug into the inside of your lip harder as you looked at her now.

“That does sound kind of nice,” you agreed.

She nodded along and brought her hand back to your face. One set of her nails lightly scraped along the frame of it, trailing down after to stroke your jaw. The sensation was enough to make your eyes flutter and send another small burst of desire through you.

“Of course it does,” she said, “You work so hard. You shouldn’t have to go home and cook or do dishes or laundry. You’re probably so tired by the time you get there.”

A hazy sigh puffed out from your mouth. “Yeah sometimes,” you confirmed.

“Mhm. Poor baby,” she cooed, “Someone should be there, letting you rest, doting on you like the precious thing you are.”

Now you felt as though you were glowing. Your breaths came in deep, lifting your chest up and down with each breath. A lazy, blissful smile sat on your features as your dreamy gaze fixated on her. Everything really was starting to feel like a dream. If you weren’t so captivated, you might have tried pinching yourself.

She chuckled at the expression before standing up. Her palms swept down to your shoulders again.

“You look tired, honey. We should probably get you some clothes to sleep in and then send you off to bed,” she said.

“Sounds good to me,” you said and started to rise from the stool yourself.

“Perfect. Just finish this off for me, sweetheart,” she said and lifted your glass to your hand again. It was nearly empty, but it couldn’t hurt having you drink a few drops more.

Denying her didn’t even occur to you in this condition. You brought the drink to your lips and swallowed the remainder while she cleared the counter of other dishes. 

In the blink of an eye, she was back at your side. One of her arms slipped around your waist while the other held your shoulder.

“Good girl,” she praised, “Come with me.”

Again, you followed the order without a trace of resistance. You walked alongside her down the path you had come. This time around you leaned into her for support. Your head felt cloudy. A sense of dizziness pervaded every movement you made. She watched with pure satisfaction as she led you to the hall.

“There you go. We’re almost there,” she cooed as if you didn’t know the layout of the house.

You passed the front door and turned into the area that held the doors to one of the bathrooms and the office space. At the end of the small corridor, she opened up the double doors that led into her and Leon’s room. Despite being here five days a week, you rarely ever went in here. You could use one hand to count the number of occasions in which you ever needed to cross this threshold.

The decor was much darker than the rest of the house. Shades of gray morphed into dark black in here. Obsidian drapes framed the window, separated at the moment to let the moon shine through. All the furniture was crafted in deep tones of wood. The rug sprawled across the floor was nearly pitch black, spare the thin red designs sewn throughout.

You took it all in as if it was brand new to you. She paid your curiosity no mind and sat you down on the edge of her bed.

“Stay here for me. I’ll go find you something that fits you,” she said, running her hand over your head as if you were a prized pet.

You obeyed like one, not moving as she stepped away and into the walk in closet in the corner of the room. Your palms spread out on the bedding. The plush comforter tickled your fingers. It had to be one of the softest things you’d ever felt. Much different than the ratty old throw blankets you had on your bed back home.

A sigh seeped from your lips, and you found yourself laying back against the luxurious surface. You spread your arms out as though you were making angel wings in the snow outside. What would it be like to come home to this every night? To work hard all day and then be able to really relax in a place like this? To unwind with each one of your bosses at your side tending to you?

As these thoughts danced through your mind, you felt a hand grasp your thigh. You popped your head up to find Ada before you again, a couple pieces of clothing draped over her arm.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” she teased.

“I wasn’t. Sorry. Your bed is just like really comfy,” you said with a small giggle as you sat up.

“Isn’t it? We just got this one last year. Leon loved our old one, but I just find this one so much easier to sink into,” she agreed.

“Mhm. For sure,” you said, nodding your head up and down with too much enthusiasm for the subject.

That didn’t matter though. Ada didn’t think she could find one thing wrong with you right now if she tried. Beside you, she laid out the few things she’d taken from the closet.

“I wasn’t really sure what type of clothes you liked to sleep in or what you would fit so I brought a few for you to choose from,” she said.

With a gentle hand, she directed your attention to the outfits on the mattress. There were two, and they looked like night and day. Two opposites with no neutral middle. 

The one on the left consisted of a small black camisole, one that had to belong to Ada. A pair of silky, navy blue shorts sat with them, another find from her side of the wardrobe. Next to those two was a large gray sweatshirt and some flannel pajama pants, probably her husband’s if you had to guess.

Your eyes lingered on each. It appeared as though you were taking your time to decide, but really you just couldn’t stop trying to picture the clothing on their owners’ bodies. You imagined Ada’s soft curves covered by the thin cloth, her smooth thighs emerging from the shiny fabric of the shorts. Images of Leon flickered in your head too, the sleeves of that shirt rolled up to his elbows and leaving his forearms exposed. The plaid pajama pants hanging low on his hips and giving you a nice view of his v-line.

While you stared at your options, she angled herself behind you, lifting one knee onto the bed. Her hands landed upon your shoulders to gently massage.

“Pick whatever you want. It’s totally up to you. You can take one or the other or combine the two. Maybe layer a bit since it’s so cold,” she whispered. She had leaned in right next to your ear. Her lips brushed your skin with every word.

It took everything you had not to whimper for more from her. Under normal circumstances, you would be squirming out of your skin, stuttering and awkwardly trying to justify her affection for you. But right now, you leaned back into it, letting the warmth flow through you.

She smiled and snaked her arms around your body, holding you tight against her. “I’ll have to buy you some clothes to keep here in case this ever happens again. We’ll keep a cute little wardrobe for you in the guest room, so you can stay whenever you like,” she added.

That pulled another giggle out of you along with growing the lazy smile on your face. “I’ll take both of these,” you finally decided and pulled the two tops toward yourself. You messily bundled both pieces into your lap.

“Great. But you still need some pants, sweetheart,” she teased.

“But I don’t like sleeping in pants,” you said and looked up at her with earnest eyes.

She reveled in your thoughtless confession but played it cool. “Are you sure? The bed upstairs has a lot of blankets and the heat should be on, but I wouldn’t want you getting cold,” she offered.

You shook your head. “I’ll be ok, but thank you,” you answered.

Standing up, you swayed on your feet a little. She rose from the bed herself and moved the rejected pairs of pants to the dresser nearby. When she turned to you and caught the wobbly nature of your stance, she moved in like a viper through tall grass and grabbed you by the elbow.

“Why don’t you just change in here? You know that way if you don’t like anything you won’t have to stumble up and down the stairs. Plus you can just leave your clothes here, and I’ll put them in the wash in the morning,” she said, making the offer as if it was based on a genuine desire to help you.

You blinked at her. “Like… change in here? In the bedroom?” you checked.

She nodded, her fingers gliding up your arm. “Mhm. We’re both girls, honey. No need to be shy. I’ll even turn around if you want me to,” she said in a way that somehow soothed you and set your whole body on fire.

You felt like a fireworks show was going off in your stomach. The adrenaline rushing through your veins made you light-headed, and the wine probably didn’t help. You couldn’t think of a reason to say no.

“Alright,” you agreed with a heavy breath.

“Good girl,” she praised with a squeeze to your shoulder.

You felt your clit throb between your legs. At this point, you knew you’d probably have to rub one out as soon as you reached the privacy of the guest room.

Turning around, you dropped the two shirts back on the bed. Without much hesitation, you started to undress. Your shirt was first to go. You tucked your fingers beneath the hem and peeled it off.

Ada’s gaze focused completely on you as she saw the soft skin of your back completely exposed. This was the most important part of the night. If she messed up here, all of it would have been for nothing. She hadn’t planned out every minute movement she would make, but she could think on her feet. This would work.

She headed over near the closet entrance again but didn’t venture inside. She stood right outside in front of the full length mirror, a seemingly reasonable position where she was sure you’d be able to see her if you turned around.

Bending down, she unbuckled her heels and then kicked them to the side. She undid her slacks next and shimmied them off to pool around her ankles.

You heard the rustling of the fabric and the clicks of unfastening. It didn’t register in your mind what they would be coming from until you glanced over your shoulder and spotted her. Your jaw fell open while your eyes bulged from their sockets. You were pretty sure you stopped breathing in the middle of removing your bra.

She stood there as if nothing about this was odd. Her fingers worked on undoing the buttons on her blouse, parting the two sides and revealing a sliver of her skin. Her legs were already out in the open, all for your eyes to see.

In the reflection of the mirror in front of her, she caught your wide-eyed stare. She spun around to face you head on. She unhooked the last button. Her shirt fell open, allowing you to see her flesh from her navel to her collar bone. Underneath the blouse, she still had on a lacy bra and matching panties.

Not missing a beat, she just chuckled and walked closer. “Did you get stuck, honey? Need some help?” she asked.

She approached your frozen form and brought her hands to your shoulders where your bra straps sat. Using her nimble fingers, she guided the thin pieces down your arms. The entire garment fell away and dropped to the floor in front of you.

“There you go. Let mommy help you,” she whispered.

This time you actually couldn’t tell if the words were real or imagined. They’d been so hushed, so faint, but you would swear on anything that you felt them fan over your neck.

She moved to your jeans next, flicking the button open and tugging the zipper loose. The denim crumpled under the force of her hands shoving them down. You stepped out of each pant leg before she kicked them aside along with your bra.

Her hands came to rest on your hips for a moment before gliding up your sides. They smoothed over your curves like streams of warm water. You felt the gentle pressure move from your sides around to your tummy. She was only teasing you right now. Her touches felt good, but they didn’t explore anywhere that would give you true pleasure.

“You have such soft skin,” she cooed.

“Thank you,” you hummed, preening under her touch.

“So tender and pretty. Perfectly smooth,” she whispered.

You were already melting under her hands, but she knew she could go further. She ducked in and kissed your neck. You moaned at the feeling, at her hot mouth latching onto your skin. She laid a few more there after to follow.

“Mmm, so sweet too,” she hummed.

You whimpered and let your head fall back onto her shoulder, leaving more of your neck accessible to her lips. She took advantage. Leaning in, she licked a stripe over your pulse and followed the trail of saliva with a series of kisses. Her teeth scraped across the sensitive flesh.

“A-ada…” you sighed.

“I’m right here, sweet baby,” she purred, “Does that feel good?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered.

“I bet it does. You’re so sensitive, aren’t you? Jumping under every touch. I was like that at your age too,” she teased.

Her hands broke the little patterns they’d been tracing into your stomach to float upward. One by one they each landed on your breasts. Her palms cupped the mounds and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“You have such a gorgeous body,” she said as she nuzzled the space behind your ear, “You’re so shy. So precious. Running around my house like a skittish little puppy.”

No words of protest or denial made their way out of you. It felt good to bask in her attention, to know that she saw you as something so delicate.

“I think I’m starting to understand why though,” she teased.

Her fingers went to your pebbled nipples, pulling and tweaking the sensitive nubs. You mewled and squirmed in her grasp.

“Mommy,” you whined, not caring if she had actually been the one to say it first.

“Mhm. Look at you, already calling me mommy. You were thinking about this, weren’t you baby? You’ve been wanting mommy to take care of you?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, not being coy about it.

She grinned against your neck before turning you around. Once you could see her, she displayed a much more seductive expression. “Let mommy take care of you then,” she said.

With caring hands, she guided you onto the bed and laid you against a mountain of the pillows near the headboard. She crawled above you, looking down at you like a panther that had just caught its next meal.

“Let me have a taste of those lips. See if they're as soft as the rest of you,” she murmured before lowering herself.

She connected her mouth to yours. Her lips engulfed your own in a kiss, her tongue teasing you. You reciprocated. Your lips parted as you moaned, granting her access. She didn’t waste any time. Her breaths came out heavier as she focused herself entirely on you.

As her mouth worked on you above, her hands continued roaming your body below. She groped your hips and explored your thighs. You gasped softly at the mix of sensations, rolling your hips up against nothing.

“So impatient, baby,” she breathed as she pulled back, “You act like such a good girl all the time, but I bet that leaves you so desperate, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered.

She nodded and moved down to your neck again. Her mouth trailed over the skin with little pecks and soft sucks. The idea of leaving marks tempted her, but that could come later. She didn’t intend on this being her only time with you.

You felt her kisses migrate across your throat to your collarbone and down to the valley between your breasts. Her tongue played there for a moment, drawing out the moments before she would give you your first real taste of relief.

“Mommy, please,” you tried, eyes fluttering.

“So demanding,” she cooed. She moved her mouth to the right though and wrapped her lips around your nipple.

You arched your back off the bed and breathed out a whiny sigh. The tip of her tongue swirled around the bud. She laved at it, applying the perfect amount of pressure to get you squirming. Her hands massaged your waist in the meantime. She would make sure you felt good all over.

Your legs shifted around at the tingling building between your thighs. You craved some friction so badly, but she was still fixated on your chest. Her mouth released your nipple and planted one more kiss on it before she moved to the other and gave it the same treatment.

It got the same pleasured reaction out of you that only increased when one of her hands came up to toy with the sensitive peak that already experienced her mouth. You mewled without shame, digging her heels into the mattress.

She finally let it go as she had the other one, with a wet pop. Her eyes flitted up to you, taking in your breathless expression. After a couple seconds, she started kissing down your belly. She scooted herself down between your legs.

“You’re so needy,” she cooed, “No one’s taken care of you in so long. It’s left you aching.”

Her fingers ghosted over your thin panties, the ribbed fabric nowhere near as luxurious as hers. You watched her eyes follow her hands. The dark irises locked on your center. Her thumb traced the length of your cunt, grazing over your clit down to your leaking entrance. A nice wet patch began forming on the seat of your panties.

“That’s ok though. No one else could take care of you like mommy can. You’d be wasting your time.”

Your eyelids felt heavy as you watched her tug your panties off, drooping with the weight of your lust. You felt the cool air hit the glistening folds between your legs as soon as your lower half was free of the thin covering.

“So wet for me already,” she said, “That’s my good girl. Always so eager to please.”

She didn’t waste time teasing. Why would she? After months of coveting, she finally had you within her grasp, ready for the taking. She gripped your thighs and dove in, flattening her tongue against your soaked core. With a broad stroke, her tongue dragged over the slick flesh.

You mewled in response. A soft gasp accompanied the sound. She spotted your fingers gripping the bedding. So responsive from the simplest of touches. You were going to be fun.

She attacked your clit next. First, she treated it with little flicks of her tongue. Quick and repetitive, it stroked the tiny bud until you let out a pretty whine. She then latched her lips on, sucking on your pulsing bundle of nerves.

All the thoughts in your head melted away. The only thing you could do at this point was babble out a small collection of words including “mommy” and “please more.”

She got into it. All her focus trained on you. This was what she had been dreaming of for a year after all. Ever since she saw you in that little plaid skirt. She’d have to have you wear it again one of these days so she could eat you out under it.

Your thighs squeezed around her head as she lapped at your entrance. It felt good, a more dull kind of bliss than what she’d brought you before, but still good. She didn’t mind the pressure from your legs. Her nails dug into your tender flesh and kept you right in place to continue on with her task.

You trembled and twitched with the ecstasy coursing through you. Your eyes rolled back, your vision going out for a second. It felt as though your head was engulfed by drowsy clouds straight from the heavens. The few people you had been with before never made you feel like this.

Your head had lolled back for a moment in the throes of carnal pleasure. When your vision started to return, you brought it back up to look at her again. Only she didn’t catch your attention this time.

Instead your pupils landed on the shadowy figure at the double doors you had entered through.

You practically jumped out of your skin before you realized who it was. She felt you startle and briefly looked over her shoulder before returning her attention to your pussy. The person stepped forward, allowing moonlight to cast over their figure and show their face.

Leon.

“It sounds like you broke her already,” he said as he approached the bed. Making his way to your pair, he ended up standing beside you. His eyes scanned over your nude body, drinking in every inch of your figure.

“I told you I’d have her nice and warmed up by the time you came home,” she replied, shooting him a smile from the crux of your thighs.

Their words flew over your head. You couldn’t really hear them with how fast your heart was beating. God, how could you have been so stupid? You totally forgot about Leon until this very moment. Apparently, a few drinks was all it took to let your pussy take control. All you had been thinking about for the last half hour was how badly you wanted Ada, how beautiful she looked laying in front of you, devouring you whole. The fact that she was married with a husband completely slipped your mind.

“Mr. Kennedy, I’m so sorry. I- um- We just-” you stammered, incapable of coming up with any sort of defense for your actions.

But he didn’t look mad. He sat down beside your shoulder, gazing down at you with some sort of affection in his eyes.

“I think I’ve told you before that I prefer when you call me Leon, sweetheart,” he told you, petting your head.

Biting your lip, you leaned into the touch. Your eyes looked so sweet gazing up at him as you did. He felt his blood beginning to flow South in response. His hand continued stroking over your scalp before moving to your shoulder, feeling your soft skin beneath his fingers.

“She’s been such a good girl for mommy,” Ada praised from below before rubbing your clit rapidly with her middle and index finger. The quick motion drew a whiny moan from you, only adding to Leon’s arousal.

His eyes flicked between you and his wife. “You didn’t give her too much to drink, did you?” he asked.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “She only had a few. What do you take me for?”

“Well she looks a little out of it. I just thought I’d check. My mistake,” he said, rubbing your cheek with his thumb absentmindedly.

She laughed softly at that. “You know I’m good with my mouth, darling. I don’t need any help getting her to look like that.”

You whimpered as she reattached her mouth to your cunt. Turning your head, you squished your face against his thigh. Your hips bucked. You could feel your release building up, the urge to let go flourishing inside you. Your noises became more high pitched, more needy. He looked down at you with something resembling curiosity with a trace of adoration.

“That feel good, baby? Not too much for you?” he asked.

“N- no, feels- mmph! Feels good,” you choked out between labored breaths. The hand closer to him flew up to grab at his thigh. Your digits dug into the material of his pants as another whine erupted from you.

He swapped his leg for his hand, letting you squeeze his palm as hard as you wanted.

“That’s it. Good girl. Hold daddy’s hand. I’ve got you,” he hummed.

Ada let her hand take over again and brought her head up to watch the two of you.

“Are you close, honey?” she asked.

“Mhm,” you responded instantly.

“Good. I want you to cum for me, ok? Cum for mommy and daddy. We’re gonna get you all nice and wet before you take daddy’s cock,” she said with the sweetest smile on her face in contrast to her dirty words.

You jolted at the prospect. A sharp breath tore through you right before your orgasm did. Your body shook and convulsed, arching and rolling as if you were possessed. Vaguely, you could hear both of their voices. You couldn’t make out the exact words, but the tones were that of praise.

The world around you faded away as you came on her fingers. Your chest puffed up and down with heavy breaths, and your head went limp against Leon’s leg.

Moments later as you began to come down, you felt him shift your weight onto the pillows. His presence receded and more hushed words filled the room. You heard fabric crinkling and a belt hitting the floor.

The mattress dipped as he climbed back on. Your eyes cracked open in time to see him kneeling between your legs. His hands rested on your bent knees, fingers caressing your skin. 

Your eyes swept over one of the bodies you’d been imagining in recent months. You could see the few veins that marked his forearms and biceps. He was still muscular despite getting older, but he had begun to fill out a little with some softer flesh. Brown hair dusted the skin from his navel down to a thicker patch of it at the base of his cock.

Meanwhile, Ada landed by your side. You took a breath, and her scent overwhelmed you in place of Leon’s. Her curves pressed up against you. Your head rested against the cushion of her breasts while you could feel the smoothness of her belly against your arm.

She kissed the crown of your head, nestling her nose against your hair. “You ready for daddy, baby? I know he’s ready for you,” she whispered.

You nodded, watching Leon as he gave his cock a few tugs. His eyes remained soft even in the midst of his desire.

While Leon wasn’t the one who’d hatched this plan to get you here, that didn’t mean he was oblivious to your beauty. There was a reason he’d agreed to this in the first place. He’d become just as enamored with you in the same time his wife did. He couldn’t help it. Even though he knew it was such a cliche at his age, he couldn’t stop himself from lusting after the babysitter.

He was only human. It was only natural for his eyes to linger on your waist when you squatted down to say goodbye to his daughter. The flutter in his stomach when you hugged him from the side a few times was just a matter of instinct. It wasn’t his fault the sound of your laughter nearly had him drooling or that the sight of you carrying his child to the car made him weak in the knees.

At least that’s what he told himself. That it was just a harmless crush. Something he’d never act on or get to experience anywhere other than the little scenarios that played in his head while he jerked off in the shower.

But then he found out his wife had an interest in you too. Your name came up during an intimate moment of their own. Between kisses, Ada asked him what he thought of you. He had pulled back, confused by the sudden question (and slightly nervous that he’d have to discuss you while already half-hard).

“Uh… she’s good. Christina likes her. She’s sweet, responsible, hardworking. Little shy, but I’m sure that’s just when we’re around,” he’d shrugged.

“Not like that,” she’d rolled her eyes and leaned back in to kiss his neck, “What do you think of her? She’s young, pretty, looks at you like you hung the stars. Don’t tell me you’ve never had a little babysitter fantasy before, darling.”

At first he’d thought it was a test. He denied it, proclaiming that was wrong. He only had interest in his wife, and you were just trying to do your job. The fact that you were easy on the eyes meant nothing to him. He didn’t care about your sparkling eyes or soft lips or nice curves. He didn’t notice the sweet sound of your voice or any of your cute little mannerisms. Pffft. No way.

“That’s a shame. Because I think she’s beautiful. She’s just so sweet and cute, and she doesn’t even know. The only place she could look any better is lying between us. And you know she’d be so sensitive to every little touch. She’d whimper like a little puppy,” she whispered against his skin.

In that moment, all his guilt had zapped away. He groaned at her words, accepting them without hesitation. There was no jealousy on his end, absolutely no discomfort at the idea of his wife lusting for someone else. Not when that someone else was you.

Because it meant that he got to have you like he did right now, spread out before him all blissed out and pretty. He guided his length to your entrance and dragged the tip over your folds. It glided through your wetness, nudging your clit before falling back down.

“You sure you’re ready, princess?” he asked.

“Mhm. Pretty please,” you affirmed, natural puppy dog eyes on display.

“Look at you. So polite,” he mumbled.

He prodded the head at your entrance, popping it inside. For a few moments, that was all that entered you. He let you adjust to the intrusion and let himself get used to the vise-like clamp of your velvety walls. The few seconds were necessary if he didn’t want to humiliate himself by blowing his load in less than a minute.

After that time though, he began easing it inside of you inch by inch. You whined at the light stretch. Ada stroked your arm with one hand and caressed the swell of your breasts with the other.

“That’s right, honey. You’re taking him so well,” she crooned.

“Fuck, she’s tight,” Leon grunted.

Ada grinned at that before looking at you again. “Are you squeezing daddy nice and tight? Showing him where to go?” she teased.

You moaned and nodded while Leon groaned and shut his eyes. Ada kissed your cheek as her husband bottomed out. Her hand fell to your stomach, rubbing over it. He leaned forward. His palm pressed down next to you on the mattress to keep his balance. He hovered above you, blue eyes looking down with lidded awe.

Pulling his hips back, he rocked them forward again right after. He dragged his pelvis away and then brought it right back, flush against your core. You whimpered with each movement. The satisfying slide sent warmth through you each time.

“Atta girl. Taking it so well, just like mommy said,” he mumbled.

Now he pumped his hips with more dedication. He increased his speed. Exploratory moves became deliberate strokes. Leon settled into a rhythm. He swiveled his hips and angled the way he pistoned them based on the little noises you’d make and the expressions that took over your face. He paid close attention to it all, wanting to learn what you liked, what made you feel good.

Ada continued moving her hands along your form. One moment she played with your nipples, the next she held your hips, after that she pulled your knees up further. It was dizzying trying to keep up.

“Our sweet girl,” she cooed in your ear, “Precious baby. Maybe this should be your new job. You’re good at your other one, but I think we’d like having you all to ourselves.”

Leon groaned again, his head hanging forward. Although the words had been directed at you, they had just as much of an effect on him.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby?” he asked, “Sitting around and looking pretty. Letting us spoil you like you deserve”

“You know she would. Do you even have to ask?” Ada said, “She’d love it. Spending the day kneeling between your legs while you work, using that mouth of hers whenever you want.”

“She could spend some with you too. Sit on your lap and let you play with her with one hand while typing with the other,”  he offered in return.

“And then one day, if she’s really good, maybe daddy will breed that cute little pussy and fuck a baby into her,” she whispered.

Leon’s hips snapped against you hard as you turned to eye her. The words broke you out of the spell his cock had you under before.

“What?” you asked.

She chuckled and cupped your jaw, giving you a patronizing kiss.

“What, sweetheart? You’d like that wouldn’t you? It’d make mommy and daddy so happy, you giving us another baby,” she said.

Your head spun at the idea. You blinked and sputtered. In your right, rational mind, you’d put a pause to this. But with a few drinks in you and one orgasm already under your belt, the idea didn’t sound all too bad. It’s not like you were gonna sign a contract or something. They weren’t even asking you to agree to anything right now. But just imagining it…

“You’d look so pretty, babydoll. Your hips all rounded out, all those curves nice and full, that cute stomach swollen with our baby,” Leon sighed.

Imagining it was in fact fun you decided. Your pussy clenched around him again before relaxing. You heard Ada moan softly beside you. Glancing over, you could see her fingers moving beneath her panties, working herself to the edge alongside you.

“You’d love it, honey. You’re made for it. And we’d take such good care of you, make sure you had everything you could want,” he added.

“Mmmm… daddy,” you babbled, unable to voice the full extent of your enthusiasm.

“Uh huh. Daddy’s right here. I’m gonna fill you up. You’re first little taste, yeah? I’ll get you nice and full so you know how it feels,” he moaned.

His bicep flexed as he continued to pound into you. Over and over, he slammed into your cunt. Ada continued moaning beside your ear. Her own noises were growing more desperate. You could feel her hips rocking up to meet her own touch.

“Daddy gonna- gonna- ah- gonna cum,” you whimpered.

“Go ahead, pumpkin,” he grunted, “Cum for daddy. Let me see my pretty girl let go.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You let release wash over you in a smooth wave. Your body writhed and twitched below his. You squirmed atop the blankets, letting your muscles melt into the plush comfort of them.

Next to you, Ada reached the high too. Watching you fall apart was the final straw in her own resolve. She bucked her hips and nuzzled into your throat while crumbling under the bliss of release.

Leon was the last one to join the club. He fucked you through your euphoria while approaching his own. When he finally hit it, a strangled moan burst from him. He fell forward against you, burying his face in the side of your neck not occupied by his wife. His hands gripped your hips and held them in place as he rolled his pelvis against your ass like a dog in heat. He fucked rope after rope of hot cum into you.

By the time he pulled out, you were nice and full just like he said you would be.

You were also undeniably sleepy. Your eyes were all but shut, and your body was curling up as though you were ready for a nap.

He stretched his arm out and pulled you against his side to rest. His other hand rubbed down your body, tenderly coasting over your soft skin.

“Such a good girl for us. You were so good,” he murmured, “Our sweet baby.”

Ada scooted near your back, her hand joining Leon’s in soothing you.

“Don’t keep her all to yourself,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes. “You had her to yourself hours before I got here,” he dismissed.

She smirked and pecked his lips before looking down at you. Leaning in, she nuzzled your ear. “Sleep now, baby. You need the rest. Daddy will carry you to bed in a little bit,” she whispered.

Like before, you didn’t need any convincing. Your muscles relaxed as they got comfortable and pulled the blankets into place. You let yourself drift off between their two bodies while the storm raged on outside. Your mind slipped into dreamland, letting reality melt away for a little while.

[thesacrificialdove]

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 1.6k words rich yandere x gn!reader — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

tags sugar daddy, rich yandere, low-key obsessive behaviour, first meetings, college student reader, age gap, brief mention of a rapist (no description or anything more)

—📜" Being a broke college student, you decide to try your hand at getting a sugar daddy. You find someone who is... quite eager to know everything about you. It's weird because he doesn't seem to be the same person he was online.

They say to spend your youth on nightclubs and partying with friends. But really, they don’t know the true beauty of being in a jazz club and drinking all by yourself. There’s no ill intentions, there’s no partying until the sun goes down—just some nice music and good drinks.

People find it odd, sure. But nothing can beat this feeling for you. As you lay in a couch that’s worth double your college tuition, you drink champagne that's triple your college tuition. 

How you ended up here is another embarrassing story. Hunting for a sugar daddy online is a clear plan for destruction. It could end well with a decent allowance every now and then, of course. Yet, fear gets the most of you. The thought that you end up with a fat well and alive man who asks for sex with his small dick looms over you like a gloomy cloud. That fear is there because your sugar daddy is anonymous.

Sighing, you drink another sip of the champagne as you fix your posture. Again. The seat in front of you is still empty. You’d think he wasn’t really being honest with you but he did have a reservation ready for the both of you.

It’s not bad to wait. Even if you do look dumb getting stood up, at least you’re enjoying yourself.

“You lonely there?” someone asks behind you.

Turning your head behind you, you see a towering man with a smile so bright you think you could be blinded by it. He looks elegant—the way he’s holding a glass like a connoisseur and his long black hair pulled into a slick ponytail. Fuck, is he your sugar daddy? He looks the age for it and honestly, he aged really good.

You tell him, “Maybe. Are you lonely?”

He chuckles and takes the seat opposite. Finally. “No,” he says, “not anymore, at least. All thanks to…?” he gestures to you.

When you tell him his name, he parrots it like he’s tasting it. “Beautiful. Your mother picked it out?”

“I’m sure so,” you don’t know, who the hell would know that? “It’s a generational name, really. In our family we keep reusing names.”

“So are you the second? The third?”

The third was your great grandfather but he ended up being a rapist. Eugh. “The fourth,” you answer. “But I never tell anyone that, actually. Bit embarrassing if they call me the fourth, so.”

He laughs, somehow finding you amusing. “Nicolas,” he says, “very nice to meet you.”

Was… his name Nicolas? You’re not so sure about that. From the site he only revealed his last name so that you could get the reservation. Huh.

“Nice to meet you, Nicolas.” The little twitch in his lips is unavoidable to your eyes, “You look very nice tonight,” maybe that’s why he took almost an hour to arrive here. “Do you live near here or?”

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head, “I come from Bolzano. But I came here from Portofino, where my heart currently is.”

You nod like you know where those places really are. Italy, you assume. “Very nice. I heard it’s a beautiful place.”

“Beatiful even more with company,” he puts his drink down. “How about you? What makes you come here?”

You, actually. You wanted to go here. “I was raised by my grandfather and jazz was his favourite. Every corner of the house Hank Mobley would be playing. I have his old records that he passed down to me and whenever I play it, I can see the way he dances.”

“So, come down here for a little trip to memory lane?”

Before you could answer, you think about it even more. The man you were talking was definitely not Italian, right? No, his name sounded British, at most. And Nicolas sounds like he has little to no knowledge about the fact that you two are supposedly on a date.

Fuck, did you get him wrong? I mean, he is interested, you think.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you hum. You put your glass down too, clasping your hands. “I think I do need to go now. It was nice to have your company—”

“Going so soon? A bit rude especially if you came here to be mine for a price, no?”

You pause. Though you’re ready to leave this embarrassing meeting, you’re caught. You turn to him in confusion. So you were… wrong? Right? 

“Sit back down, this champagne is a bit too new to me.” He raises a hand and someone immediately finds their footing beside him. Nicolas speaks in his own tongue, requesting something you don’t understand.

You’re promptly back on your seat with a small wave of his hand. “Come on, I think we have a lot to learn about each other. But I know you.”

Did he send in a private investigator or what? Fuck, man. You didn’t think that those things were real in real life. “How much do you know?”

He doesn’t answer. His legs are crossed as he watches the busboy leave to prepare your drinks. “How are your classes?” he asks, making idle conversation of things you’re a bit worried to talk to him about. “Hope you’re dealing well.”

“Yeah,” you say, unsure of this now. “It’s all fine, yes. Just a few projects and classes.” You wonder for a moment how rude it would be to ask for a price on your body right now. “Nothing interesting, really.”

“I’m sure anything you say is of interest,” he says, all too fond of you. “Tell me, love, you mentioned having difficulties with some of your professors.”

He wasn’t interested in all that before when you were talking. “It’s fine. Well, not like I can say no. It’s a bit hard when you’re paying for an education and you’re not being taught,” you laugh, “Self-taught learning, he excuses.”

“That’s simply lazy,” he excuses. “Fine arts is such a nice career path. No reason to be dismissive of students who want to learn it.”

Did you tell him what you’re studying?

The busboy returns and brings a drink to the both of you. The song changes and it sounds familiar. You could almost see your grandfather dance behind Nicolas.

“I’m going to guess that’s your doing,” you say, “Thank you. It sounds lovely.”

He smiles, “I’m not one for jazz myself.” He reaches for his glass and swirls in, taking a whiff of its scent afterward. “But I’m curious as to who you are. How you grew up is one of those things”

When the both of you talked online, you expected him to be more lustful than this. Maybe it’s the repeating innuendo in his messages. All of that persona is gone now as if it never existed. It’s concerning.

Both of you make small conversation. Mostly it’s about you. He asks every little detail about you, asking for things that not even your friends would care about. It’s the little things.

‘Do you like soft cotton or silk?’ You don’t really know the difference but cotton is nice.

‘How often do you see your family?’ Every or so month, you’d wager. But you make sure to keep in contact.

‘What’s your thoughts on caged animals?’ A bit cruel, but you can see where it can stem from. Still, it’s cruel. You’d never do it.

The night come to a close when you start to feel a bit light-headed with the drinks you’ve ingested. Nicolas puts aside your glass as he stands to go on your side of the table. “Maybe it’s time to take a break tonight, love?”

You groan. “Yeah, I guess that’s fine now. I’m really thankful for tonight.”

“I’m glad,” he says, pulling you up and helping you walk. You don’t need it but it’s nice anyways. “I can take you back to your dorm, yes? You don’t need to worry about anything else when you’re with me.”

In your pocket, your phone buzzes. You don’t get to check it when Nicolas wraps both of his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the exit and you swear you hear ‘Signore Giordano’ come out when the men bid him goodnight.

Which is weird, because his surname is Abbot.

The ride was a blur, literally. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink. The next thing you know is that both of you are in front of your dorm. It’s too dark outside. The streets are dead silent. The low rumble of his car is the only thing you can really hear.

He calls your name. “It’s time to go home. You can’t stay with me yet, love.”

You stretch in the seat. A car seat has never been more comfortable. “Been nice, really. Thank you.”

As you unbuckle your seat, he leans forward. His arm drapes over your shoulders as his hand comes to your face. “Then can I get a little reward? Just a little?” He turns his cheek, a grin on his face.

It’s stupid but oh well, he would pay you. You press a kiss on his cheek and he looks like the happiest man alive. He laughs, looking at you with stupid heart eyes. “Thank you. Call me with this number—” he places a card in your hands—”and delete that damn app. I’ll come find you after your classes tomorrow for your contract. You don’t need to find anyone else now.”

He leaves shortly after you get inside your dorm. You hear the revving of his car go in the quiet night. It’s relieving. You’re tired on your feet, unable to really process what happened tonight.

It’s whatever. It’s all done now.

You delete the app on your phone, swiping away a message you got from it. You’re pretty sure it’s from another match you had last time but again, you don’t need it anymore.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ L0tus_Ren_ & @ Ivan Belikov