#conclave smut

thomas lawrence is trapped in a constant, grueling cycle of temporary pleasure in exchange for eternal shame. he doesn’t remember when it started, but it doesn’t really matter when he can’t see the end in sight. his main excuse is the stress he’s under, struggling with the faith that makes up his entire identity and considering retiring from his position as dean of the cardinals. although the holy father won’t allow him to. his words echoed in his mind, “some are chosen to be shepherds, and others are needed to manage the farm.”

he hesitates before picking up the phone to call you, knowing the exact sequence of events that will unfold once he does. he could end it right here, do the virtuous thing, and pray for closure rather than indulging in earthly desires as a temporary solution to his problems, but he never does, and his request to see you is whispered.

as he waits for you, he’s conscience-stricken over what’s to come, but there’s no one to blame but himself. 

you’re gorgeous as always, an example of lust come to life with those sultry eyes and soft lips. most importantly though, you know how to keep quiet and respect the deals you make. you promised you would never say a word, and you’ve been honorable about it ever since. you don’t even charge him any more than you would for a usual customer. he’s certain that if he were unlucky, he would find himself being blackmailed by you, asking him to wire tens of thousands of dollars to your account in exchange for silence knowing he’d gegrudingly oblige since the church didn’t need any more sex scandals than it already had.

you kiss him first, you always do, gently with both hands cradling his face as you pull him towards you. if you leave him to make the first move, you would be waiting all night before eventually leaving without doing the job you were called to do. 

he falters for a second, but soon melts into your touch. he so starved for affection from another, the poor thing. it’s almost embarrassing how much he needs you, yearning for a younger thing like you, but you truthfully don’t mind it. it’s almost cute actually.

feeling the warmth of your skin against his and the weight of your body crawling into his lap is enough to send him spiraling, throwing all of the morals he’s held his entire life out the window as his large hands grab the plush of your thighs. he holds onto you like you would disappear at any moment, almost as if he was scared you would escape from his grasp and reveal what was going on with a single whisper. he doesn’t trust you, yet he has no choice but to do so.

the layers between you slip off, and it always makes you sigh at all the clothing clergymen wear on the daily. do they not get hot? it’s fine, you have plenty of experience when it comes to removing the religious garments of men and women alike.

there’s a war going on in his mind when you lay yourself down for him, one between his vocation and his need for you. it’s his last chance to back out, but when his icy eyes met yours full of want, he caved like he always does. the closest thing to heaven he’ll ever feel is the embrace of your velvety walls around his cock, the sound of your gasp when he sinks into you, and the way you call out his name like a prayer, “thomas, thomas, thomas.”

he’s slow, careful, as if too much pleasure at once would break him. he’s not used to this, he doesn’t think he ever will be, not when he’s already at this age and trained to keep his mind above the carnal appetites of the body. he lost his first time with you in a desperate last-minute resort to alleviate all of the pressures on his shoulders, and his last time ever will also be with you if it ever comes soon. it’s wrong, so very wrong, but the constant push and pull that brings him makes him feel like it’s worth it at the moment.

when he finally snaps back to reality with your shared climax, he feels an overwhelming wave of guilt wash over him. he shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t be behaving like an animal to relieve himself of his stress and succumbing to lust as if he had no restraint. restraint is all he knows, all he’s ever known, he’s the dean of cardinals for crying out loud. everyone knows thomas lawrence to be disciplined and reverent, an image of holiness and composure, and example for the rest of his peers as someone who was chosen by the pope himself to manage them. he could only imagine the scandal that would break out if it was discovered what he was doing in secret, how he’s no better than anyone else and just another sinner hiding within the walls of the church.

he runs a warm, wet towel across your skin to soothe any aches he might have left on your body, as if he even had it in him to treat you as roughly as another client, the tips of his fingers barely ghosting over your flesh as if he was scared to touch you unlike how he was mere minutes before. his regret hangs heavy in the air along with the sinful smell of sweat and sex. 

“this must never happen again.” he speaks sternly and autocratically, allowing you to see a glimpse of the noble cardinal he is rather than the pathetically desperate man you usually see, although it seems like he’s talking more to himself than he is to you. his tone is so confident that you almost believe that he means it this time.

only for a second though, you know it’s far from the last time. it will only be a week or two before you’ll receive another phone call from him for another secret rendezvous. he’s only a human before he is a holy man, after all.

despite being in the prime of his acting career and being far more built than any man his age has any right to be, he’s still past his prime of prowess and a product of sixty years that have flown by like an unnoticeable breeze. perhaps if he were ten years younger, not even ten, maybe just five years, then he would be able to easily tolerate your childish attitudes of acting out when you feel like he isn’t giving you enough attention. you pout and bat your eyelashes at him, letting out little whines in hopes of distracting him from his work. sometimes you even flat out sit in his lap wearing cute little outfits, wrapping your arms around his neck while telling him that you’re bored and want to play.

he give a handful of warnings, giving nothing more than a few light scoldings as a little slap on the wrist. don’t you know that what he’s doing right now helps pay for all your little gifts from sanrio merchandise to frilly dresses to lacy lingerie? there’s only so much he can handle before actually getting distracted like you intended, rocking back and forth against him before sulking at his supposed disinterest. there are many things you know him for, and his disinterest in your feminine wiles wasn’t one of them.

so after about fifteen minutes of pestering him, making stupid noises while kissing and poking at his face with your index fingers, you let out an annoyed huff before attempting to get off of him, but before you could even get a foot on the ground, you yelped as he suddenly picked you up and laid you out on the bed. he had his hands on his hips while looking down at you, acting like he didn’t expect you to be acting out when he’s hardly noticed you all day. “are you just about finished?”

it’s so easy to forget how strong he is beneath those clothes with the face of a weak elderly man, but just because he’s too old to tolerate your behavior, doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to punish you for it. the second you start going from juvenile to outright rude is when his patience starts to wear thin, but he knows exactly how to manage your poor attitude when you decide to start being a brat for petty reasons. 

it doesn’t take too long for you to start whining for different reasons, letting out pathetic mewls with his fingers buried inside of you. you were already so wet that you were practically soaking his digits and the fabric of your underwear, hearing the squelching with every thrust. while you were writhing in lust, he remained rather stone-faced, only letting out a mild chuckle whenever you arched your back and had tears forming in the corners of your eyes. 

he often says most people will no longer find your immature behavior cute when you’re a grown-ass adult, but he must admit, it is a little cute when you’re so desperate for the attention of a man as old as he is. 

it doesn’t take anything to put you in your place, just denying you of your orgasm is enough to have you begging for relief, but just as you refused to leave him alone earlier, he was going to do the same. you didn’t really think he was going to leave you hanging, did you?  after all, weren’t you practically begging him for this ten minutes earlier? once he’s satisfied with the results of his ongoing punishment, then he’ll be sure to indulge you in everything you want, you just have to be patient. 

he’s sure you hear it often as a model, probably so many times that it has lost its meaning and now makes you roll your eyes, but you’re truly stunning in such a way that he needed to put down his glass of wine to properly admire your beauty. some people were put on the earth to be worshipped and adored by those around them, and you’re one of them. elegant, magnetic, dangerous, and glamorous, he’s met many over the years who fell short with a single trait; no one quite like you who embodied all four so perfectly. it was as if the god who took the time to personally create you whispered those exact words before blowing life into you. 

the second your sultry eyes met his, a mix of boredom at the event you both were attending and interest in getting out of there together as they flickered over to the exit, he knew he was done for. the next fifteen minutes were a blur, running off to take a smoke break and holding a casual conversation. and the way you spoke, regal and enigmatic, he would have fallen in love if he wasn’t careful, but who’s to say he didn’t? he’s heard of you before, from tabiods and friends of friends, but not even god could deny you anything you wanted with those eyes. 

before either of you knew it, he was kneeling before you with his head buried between your thighs in some hidden hallway where the burnt out lights wouldn’t give you away, just as he’d been imagining from the moment he laid eyes on you, your dress bunched up in his hands up to your waist to allow easy access to his needy mouth that was desperate to give you pleasure. call him a whore all you want for already winding up in this situation with a woman he’s only known for an hour, because clearly, his charms have worked on you just as they have with so many others (besides, he isn’t fully against the nickname, he even finds it affectionate when you call him it with a moan).

you could feel your body going slack against the wall, allowing him to take more control over you as he moved your legs over his shoulders and gripped your waist in his strong hands, holding you upright with strength a man his age shouldn’t have. his experience was making itself known with the way you could already feel yourself starting to tremble with the way the tip of his talented tongue flicked against your clit after licking long stripes against your entrance. 

it shouldn’t be possible to look as stunning as you do while getting eaten out. even in the dim light, with your hair falling out of place and your head thrown back, you still look like a pin-up he would see on the cover of playboy. maybe it’s for the best that your eyes were scrunched shut, because you would certainly be unsettled by his intense gaze that wouldn’t leave you for even a second. he felt like he couldn’t even if he wanted to, like it would be a crime to look away from a sight so beautiful that was (at least in this moment) for his eyes only.

“you’re fucking gorgeous, my dear.”

you scoffed at the sudden compliment he whispered, moving your hand to shove his head back in place so that his mouth was once again where you needed him most, “just keep at it, old man. you’re not going to get me anywhere if you keep gawking like that.”

so you have noticed his staring. the indifference in your voice was enough to send a surge of determination throughout his body, not because he wanted to prove you wrong, but because he wanted to prove himself to you. it’s not a feeling he feels often as a well-respected man in his field, and maybe it’s embarrassing for an older man like him to desire someone like you as he is, but it’s something he must achieve tonight or else he would never be able to live it down. 

at the same time, you didn’t want him to get any big ideas about being in charge of you, much preferring to keep him at arm’s length. neither of you was the type to fall in love, but you’re both deviants with good physical chemistry, so there was going to be quite a bit of fun in the next few months of having him chase you around. 

you were so slick with a sticky mixture of arousal and his spit that he was starting to drip from the corner of his lips, but he didn’t relent, continuing to bury his hot tongue into your cunt and nudging the sensitive pearl at the top with his nose, relishing the pretty sounds slipping from your throat. one of his hands moved down to press at his neglected erection which had stirred to life in his dress pants before he had even gotten onto his knees. 

once you finally came, a hot wave of pleasure washed over your body as he tightened his grip on your body, preventing you from jolting too much at the electricity shooting up your spine. ralph placed a little kiss on your hip before taking out a handkerchief to help clean you up, pulling your dress down and ensuring you looked presentable. you were clearly flustered after the little escape when you both got back to your table, and he felt prideful to be the only one who knew why and to be the reason why. 

the rendezvous was all either of you could think of for the remainder of the ceremony, tension thick enough in the air to be cut, and sparks with each interaction no matter how tiny. once you were all finally allowed to leave, he found himself following closely behind you until you suddenly turned around, a mischievous look flashing in your eyes, “do you wanna come back to my place? i think i should thank you for… helping me out earlier…”

scandalous is what it is. he couldn’t imagine what the media would say the next morning when they inevitably catch wind of the situation if they haven’t already, but he already had a reputation of a whore, and you a seductress, so what’s the worst that could possibly happen?

“i don’t want you to leave,” you whined, burying your face into the crook of his shoulder. “i’m gonna miss you so much…”

“it will only be for a few days, dolcezza— a week at most.”

“but what if it goes on for longer? i read once that the longest conclave was almost three years, i don’t even want to imagine what i would do during that time without you.”

“don’t worry, tommaso would never allow it,” he promised, placing a kiss against your temple.

you only sighed wistfully, eyes trained on the television screen while snuggling even further into the warmth of his body. he used to visit daily once the sun had set, but ever since the pope’s death, he’s been visiting less and less with how busy he became. this was his first visit after five days, which might not sound like much, you’ve gone longer without speaking to your parents, but it made you feel like a girl in the olden days waiting for her love who was away at sea or war, and you didn’t need to ask him to know that he felt the same way when separated from you. 

some would say it’s embarrassing, perhaps others would even say it’s disgusting, for a man of his age and occupation to keep a woman as young as you were at his side for romantic companionship in exchange for financial help. you’re young enough to be his daughter, maybe even granddaughter, but truthfully, neither of you really cared. you’re an adult, and you’ve learned to adore the old man for more than his money, just as he’s learned to adore you for more than your beauty.

but your beauty really is something special, even when you aren’t doing anything except lounging around with your attention elsewhere. he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on your face, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him until you were seated in his lap without questioning it. you’re dressed casually yet scarcely, in nothing but a simple oversized t-shirt that hides your upper thighs and underwear. his eyes trailed up your smooth, taut legs completely shamelessly, admiring the form of your body and how it disappears under the fabric. 

he’s anything but subtle, and you couldn’t help but let out a whine when you felt his large hands grip at your thighs and trail upwards, “i’m watching my show, you old pervert.” 

“then just keep watching, my dear, don’t pay me any mind.”

easier said than done. it was difficult to pay any attention to the dialogue of the characters when he wasted no time in lifting up your top, one hand reaching higher to grope at your breast while the other slipped past the elastic waistband of your underwear. you could feel him breathing down your neck and taking in the scent of your cherry blossom shampoo, your own breaths turning to shallow pants as he dipped two of his fingers into your core and watched them disappear.

he’s gentle at first, or at least, as gentle as a man like him can be, slowly pushing in and getting you increasingly wetter. your arousal starts coating his fingers and making them glisten with slick, allowing him to glide in and out with barely any resistance. heat began to envelop your body that was being fondled so casually, making you screw your eyes shut and instinctively cover your mouth to prevent any moans from slipping out, although the sound of squelching was becoming embarrassingly loud in your ears. 

“i thought you said you were watching your show.” 

peeking through your lashes, you looked ahead at the screen to see what was going on, but you were unable to concentrate on anything. their speech and faces were blurred, and you could think of nothing other than this thick fingers stretching you out and his thumb circling your clit. he’s holding you so close to him, his limbs caging you in and preventing you from squirming about, kissing your neck as you throw your head back on his shoulder. 

you’re so soaked that you’re dripping everywhere, sticking to the skin of your inner thighs and his fingers like webbing. all he did was tut at the mess you were making, but said nothing of it. he could only focus on the way you were clenching around him and unintentionally grinding at his stiffened cock hidden under his clothing until you finally unraveled, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull with a cry as you came to a complete stop to catch your breath. 

tedesco couldn’t help but chuckle at the little ‘pop’ sound that came when he pulled his hand from between your quivering thighs, “ahh, you did so good for me, bellissima, as always.”

there were so many things ralph was nervous about when he entered the building where today’s shoot would be taking place, from the cameras scattered about to record his every minuscule expression to trying to act natural when performing when there was an entire crew a mere few feet away from him, all of which he needed to ignore for the sake of the film being fully immersible. he’s experienced these things on a smaller level to check his compatibility on the screen, but it all felt so overwhelming now that he was actually here and it was about to happen.

he’s only been taking roles in theatre in between acting classes up until now, and while he was always praised for his talents and was frequently told that he would go far, he was still worried it wouldn’t be enough for a hollywood debut. sure, his audition went the best it possibly could have, as he was accepted into the leading male role since the original backed out due to scheduling conflicts, something most who were starting out could only dream of, but there was a part of him that feared it was all a fluke and that he was going to screw everything up due to his inexperience. 

once he entered the bustling room, he just stood there like an idiot, looking stupidly out of place for a couple of minutes instead of approaching the set until the director called him over to discuss the scene that would be playing out. he rushed over as though he was a little kid who was called over by his dad rather than an actual professional, and although no one seemed to notice or really care for that matter, he wouldn’t stop mulling over it as his ears were burning red from embarrassment. 

as if that wasn’t bad enough, he was unable to pay attention to a single word coming out of the man’s mouth once he became aware of your bored eyes glazing over his body and possibly judging him in every manner, but he didn’t dare to look back and ask the man to repeat what he just said, instead choosing to pretend he knew exactly what he was talking about and hoping for the best.

of course, he obviously knew you would be here as the leading lady, but he didn’t expect to be so intensely aware of your presence. he’d be sheepish to admit that he’s seen all of your movies, even the early ones where you had roles so minor you were only seen for a few minutes, and even before he knew he would be starring in a movie with you, always addicted to how beautiful and magnetic you were on screen. you always played the part of a woman who was adored and desired by all who were around her, and although there was some criticism of how you should be playing a more diverse range of characters, no one could deny that the part of a femme fatale was the most perfect fit for you— especially considering it mirrors reality where you were a known temptress who could have any man or woman you wanted with a single look which spoke a thousand words before often taking them to bed.

oh, and how he wished to be one of those people, even if it meant he would have his heart broken and discarded like trash afterwards, even if it was only for a single night. call him delusional, but the thought of a single chance with you was enough for him to send in his audition, and now that he was here, he doesn’t think he was quite as crazy as he initially thought. (it wasn’t the sole reason he signed up to be a part of this film in particular. he isn’t just some sex-crazed acting student looking to get laid by his celebrity crush, but he would reluctantly admit, it was certainly there on his list of deciding factors.)

normally, when it comes to filming a more erotic movie like this, there needed to be a test between the actors to make sure they could replicate the magic chemistry required to make the film believable, but because he was brought in as a replacement, there wasn’t any time for that to stay on schedule. however, you didn’t seem to mind in the least and were more than willing to make the two of you compatible for the sake of this movie, which has had its production pushed back far too many times to count.

as the two of you got in position for the first take after the director made his vision clear, all ralph could think about was how damn gorgeous you were now that you were locked in for the camera. his introductory scene didn’t call for much, just for some small talk to happen between the characters, but he was to play a disciplined man, supposedly incapable of being distracted by the prospects of human desires like lust and love, slipping over the edge and falling deep for you and your beauty, practically at first sight. when he told his friends about the role at first, they all basically laughed in his face. they all know him underneath his gentlemanly and well-spoken exterior, and they were supposed to believe he was going to play someone who had restraint when it came to beautiful women? the entire point of acting was to play someone you weren’t, but it seemed like a stretch to them, even if they were sure he had the talent to pull it off.

hell, he wasn’t sure himself if he could pull off looking disciplined when you were looking at him like that, the poster picture for sultry and seductive from the way your lashes fluttered to the way your glossy lips parted when you spoke. it all came to you so effortlessly that he nearly forgot that there were dozens of others in the room, making him say his lines a couple of seconds too late while accidentally stuttering the last few syllables. as he was sweating bullets at all his mistakes and barely managed to get through the scripted conversation, he could see a little smile forming at the corners of your mouth, finding the little mistakes he were making adorable. it was only the first take of his first scene, yet he was acting like the entire thing was being aired live on national television for millions to see. you’ve worked with younger rookies time and time again, most of whom have fallen for you to some extent, but none of them were quite as cute as him. why, you could practically see little hearts floating above his head whenever you drew too close, how adorable is that?

luckily for him, no one aside from you managed to notice how nervous he was and just attributed it to his acting skill, and since he became less shy and more comfortable with the camera zooming in on his face, they even managed to film some other future scenes in the same setting. even though he was only standing on the sidelines for most of them, he was just as invested as though he were in it himself, completely mesmerised by the movie magic being done to achieve the director’s vision and how you perfected what was expected of you. multiple takes didn’t even seem necessary when it came to your performance, coming to you so easily like it was nothing.

“okay, let’s take a break from here, we’ll reconvene in ten! good job, ‘ava!’”

ava was the name of your character, and although you smiled at the compliment, you didn’t seem to care for it or take it to heart. you leaned in to whisper in ralph’s ear, noting how he visibly became tense and warmed up at the proximity, “you know, you’re the one who did a good job today. are you sure you’ve never acted in a film before, not even a short one?”

“n-no, never… i don’t think what i did was all that special—”

“please, don’t be so self-critical! i’ve seen plenty of rookies who couldn’t act even half as well as you did on their first day, you’re going to go so far in this career, i can already tell.”

hearing from his friends was one thing, but hearing it from you was on an entirely different level of elation as he bashfully rubbed the nape of his neck. “right, but your performance was exceptional as well, especially the scene where you initiated the fight. going from zero to a hundred in anger must be quite difficult.”

“well, i suppose i must be a hypocrite, but i don’t really consider what i do to be acting. it’s not all that difficult to me, and most of my roles overlap with each other, so i feel like i’m just paid to look good on camera and to be myself. although… i guess your role must not be too difficult for you either, considering you’re also mirroring the reality of holding yourself back, right? i wonder if you’re going to give in before or after your character does…”

you let out a little giggle before heading back to the makeup room for some touchups, causing his mind to race with all sorts of questions and cursing. you’ve barely known him for a day, yet you already knew about his crippling attraction to you? god, it might not even be simply attraction at this point, maybe he was fully blown in love with you, how stupid is that? it is true, he guesses, that an irrational, sudden love could make one think they are going batshit insane and make them act like anyone other than themself.

and you know all about his feelings towards you, maybe you even understand them better than he does himself, and he was so embarrassed about it. what kind of actor can’t hide something as simple as blooming romantic and sexual feelings? still, as humiliated as he feels over the entire ordeal, unable to think of anything else throughout the entire day, it also meant that you had some interest in him and were interested in moving forward with that. after thinking nonstop about your words and the short conversation you had, he deduced that you were only waiting for him to make the first move.

aren’t you so lucky that he’s a smart one and knows exactly what he has to do? after most everyone had left the building in the early evening of the next day. you heard a hesitant knock on your door, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who it was as you hummed a tune on your way to opening it. 

you didn’t even bother pretending you were surprised by his sudden arrival, you simply allowed him inside and discreetly locked the door behind him, knowing exactly what was to come. the excuse he prepared was wanting to review the script together because he wasn’t positive on the way he wished to perform them and was seeking advice from someone more experienced like you. simple, but effective, and after he was seated on the velvet ottoman next to your vanity with his papers in hand, you couldn’t help but find the most fun in subtly teasing him. 

when he stood at your door, you weren’t wearing anything but a matching undergarment set covered by a loosely-tied silk bathrobe, and his eyes were quick to betray him for a second before he tried to play it off like it didn’t have any effect on him. you were highly enjoying flaunting around the room, pretending you were doing things just so that he would get progressively flustered when he could see the heart-shape of your ass under the flowing silk. he starts stuttering and stumbling over his words, fumbling with the stapled script as he progressively gets more distracted.

it was taking him forever to muster up the courage to start what he came here for, but when you drew close behind him, your hand tracing his shoulders as your shadow covered him whole, it was impossible for him to resist pulling your hand into his and kissing the palm. he seemed to melt into your touch, letting out a soft sigh.

“come on, tell me the real reason you came to see me today. i know you didn’t just want to read your lines.”

“i-i wanted to see you…”

“see me for what reason? it’s okay, you can be honest with me.”

your voice is feather light, gently coaxing him into confessing his deepest thoughts and desires, “i… i can’t stop thinking about you.”

“is that so? what have you been thinking about?”

the better question is, what hasn’t he thought about? he feels like he could go on and on about the things he wanted you to do to him, things that made him hard just thinking about them as flashes in his mind. the fact that you were leaning in closer to him wasn’t helping his case either as he instinctively tried to cross his legs and hide the bulge starting to grow in his pants, but you wouldn’t let him when you suddenly pulled him back from his seat, allowing him to look you in the eyes from an upside-down angle. 

“just tell me what you want, and i’ll give it to you.”

he was trying so hard to maintain his dignity before, but now, when you’re holding him like this in the privacy of your personal dressing room, he was ready to throw that out the window if it meant you would give him a taste. when he falls to his knees and holds your hands in his, he thinks back to the other few times he had to stoop so low for he wanted, but he doesn’t think he’s ever been so earnest when he looks up at you with those puppy-like blue eyes of his and begs you to fuck him on the spot. there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that this was something you both wanted, and when he saw you smiling at his desperation, he knew he was ready for the night of a lifetime.

as a quick test of his obedience, you moved to sit on the bed pushed up against the wall of the room. even personal dressing rooms don’t usually have beds, but you often find yourself exhausted from long hours maintaining your perfect persona, so you made a special request, which was quickly granted for fifteen-minute power naps. tapping your leg, you watched him obediently crawl over as a dog would, stopping in between your feet before sitting back on his haunches, waiting for your next command.

he’s so perfect, perhaps you should keep him around for a little longer than the others. as long as he doesn’t become too attached, of course. 

if he kept looking at you the way he was, you weren’t sure yourself if you would have been able to stop yourself from pouncing on him just as he wanted, but you still managed to maintain your calm and cool composure as you leaned forward to kiss him. it was clear he wanted to pull you closer, take a little bit of control and overpower you, but he also knew that you could easily leave him high and hanging if you didn’t like his behavior. 

besides, he loved being able to shut off his brain and let you do as you please, watching how you undid your rope and had it slipping off your shoulders, revealing your barely-covered form in the most erotic way possible. uncrossing your legs, you allowed them to spread while leaning back on your elbows, sensually taking off your underwear and noticing the absolutely mesmerized look in his eyes. you don’t think he’s a virgin, but he’s certainly inexperienced, and that just excites you even more. “are you sure you’re alright with this? i certainly don’t want to force you into anything.”

“i’ve never wanted anything more,” he confessed, leaning in to kiss you on your delicate clit, inhaling your scent before letting his tongue dart out to taste you. almost immediately, he moaned at the mere taste of you, holding onto your thighs and lapping up your arousal. 

ralph could feel his head spinning, unable to fully believe what was going on right now. there’s still a part of him that wonders if all of this was just some hyper-realistic lucid dream he never wanted to wake up from, but when he hears the way you softly sigh and relax at his touch, his heart beats so fast that he fears it would burst. although, he couldn’t think of a better way to die than in between your thighs and making you feel good.

“that’s it… right there…”

your voice was becoming more strained by the second, a subtle sign of how good a job he was doing.  you were too proud to completely fall apart and assume a more submissive role for him to take charge, similar to the attitude you take with the majority of your lovers, yet you were treading the line. he was acting all meek and shy in front of you, making you think that he was a blushing virgin who didn’t have the foggiest idea how to please a woman, but he’s certainly one of the fastest learners you’ve ever met. he takes to it like he does with his acting, careful and meticulous, and quickly learning what works and what doesn’t by analyzing your behavior. he seems innocuous, but he’s watching your every move, from the way your eyes flutter shut, to the way your lips part, to how your muscles tense before slacking.

still, he’s needy, looking up at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, moving away momentarily to seek validation, “am i… am i doing a good job?”

it almost made you laugh, “hm, i’m not sure yet… keep going at it, and i’ll think about it.”

you didn’t need to push his head down to get him back to work, feeling him suck at your clit and swirl his tongue around it. he feels like he would dig a hole in the dirt and crawl into it never to come out, if he wasn’t pleasuring you properly after these lengths he’s taken, so he’s quite passionate in his endeavors as he quietly groans into your heat. looking past his idolization, you’re just another human underneath it all, yet his mind cannot help but think of you as royalty, or maybe even a divine being, someone who was so far above him that it seems like charity work for you to throw a bone to a nobody like him.

perhaps that’s why he felt so elated when he felt your thigh muscles clench around his head as you let out an uncharacteristically loud gasp, your hands grabbing onto the bedsheets as you climaxed. you didn’t push him away, nor did you pull him closer, so he remained in place, licking up every last drop as if it were the most precious nectar on the earth.

when you regained control of yourself, you looked down at him, noticing how his ears were tinted pink and the little wet spot he had in his pants. the evidence of his own orgasm made you chuckle, reaching out to pinch his face in between your fingers, not needing to force him to look you in the eyes when it was all he was looking at in the first place, “aw, did you cum already, baby? just from eating me out? what a darling young man you are, but don’t think it’s over yet. the studio doesn’t fully close up for another two hours. that’s plenty of time to have some more fun, isn’t it?”

hello :D🐢 anon here, i come bearing another request, still for our dear ralph fiennes. picture this. young ralph, fresh outta acting college, meets reader, who is around hia age (maybe some years older), and he can't help but fallin love with her. hard and fast. and it gets to the point where he corners her and just begs her to fuck him. no pressure if you don't want to write this. though, if you do, go bananas. make him cry, make him beg and whine, make him act like a fucking dog (obviously if you want to, no pressure, queen) anyways, i wish you have a good day/night. and, again, it's perfectly fine if you decide to not write this <3

as most people do, thomas has a few rituals he performs before going to bed: cleaning any clutter that may be in his room, showering and brushing his teeth, reading scripture and saying his prayers (specifically reciting psalms 91, he always makes a point to remember)— all typical things clergymen do before resting. however, there are a few other things he does that seem strange, even for a man like him.

he makes sure everything is in place, checking obsessively before taking a breather. his home is anointed with holy oil, a mixture of olive and other essential oils which were blessed and smeared in little crosses over all the surfaces of his home.  there’s a crucifix hung in every room, maybe even two if it’s more spacious. salt lines his doors and windows wherever there may be a crack.

he does everything he can to keep demons away while he’s in his most vulnerable state, but he still fiddles with his rosary before hesitantly drifting off to sleep, feeling like a child who is scared of the monsters in the dark. in all honesty, the monsters with sharp fangs and glowing red eyes in storybooks would be better than what he’s dealing with. at least then, he would feel less guilt and wake up feeling something other than shame for what has been happening in his dreams.

for the past four and a half months, you’ve been showing up in his dreams a few times per week, a winged creature with little horns on the top of her head and a pointed tail. a succubus who was looking to feed and chose a man who had dedicated his life to the church, which was against all you stood for. it wasn’t a coincidence, no, you chose him because you thought it was funny to taunt a man who was required to stay celibate for some sick, sadistic reason. you’ve even called him cute on multiple occasions, finding it adorable all the things this old man will say and do in an attempt to ward you off at first.

sometimes you wear lace, other times you wear latex. it’s always scandalous and leaves little to the imagination, but that always gets him more flustered than if you wore nothing at all. you tease him, caressing his face with the back of your hand, telling him all the things you want to do to him, asking him if he was having more fun serving god during the day rather than spending time with you at night, but you never force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do.

no, the best part is when he finds himself backed up in a corner, his hardened cock stirring in his trousers in ways that he thought were no longer possible, and the scent of your perfume making him dizzy with lust. the best part is when he cracks like glass, whispering a few pleas before outright begging for you when you pretend you can’t hear him.

it’s the most satisfying sound really, the sound of a man giving in to his most carnal desires and pathetically allowing stings of “please” to slip past his throat as you give him what he wants. it’s almost like he forgets what he’s made his entire life’s purpose the moment your mouth is on him, running your tongue along his length and teasing his tip while alternating between long and kitten licks. despite his age, he finds himself acting like a teenage boy again due to his inexperience, cumming in your mouth after barely two minutes like a loser.

he takes several deep breaths before opening his eyes, wincing at the slight overstimulation when you slowly loosen your jaw and let go of him with a ‘pop,’ the little string of drool connecting your swollen lips to his tip makes you smile before abruptly standing up and kissing him with aggression, so much so that he wakes up with a start with sunlight leaking into his bedroom.

thomas can still taste you, your sweet spit mixed with the saltiness of himself. the recollection of the nightmare makes him feel feverish, pulling the sheets off only to find his underwear sticky with evidence of his release. he takes a cold hard shower and prays before leaving his house, making a mental note to figure out another way to keep you away from him at all costs possible.

you can’t tell if he’s more stupid than he looks or is simply in deep denial. he can do all he wants to his house and say all the prayers he wants, but his mind is like an open portal for you to waltz into. despite everything he says and does, he’s just as weak as any other man to temptation, and his secretly perverted mind is more than willing to let you enter no matter how much he would deny it. 

you fiddled with the heavy red wool between your fingertips, feeling the soft material and your heart swelling with pride, finding it nearly impossible to hide the little smile on your face with how proud you were of your husband. it feels like just yesterday he was just playing roles in student film projects as a way of testing the waters, unsure about the career direction after decades of being an architect although he’s always had a keen interest in acting that he was just too shy to pursue. now, here he was getting ready for the most important scene of his first feature film, where his character would unintentionally win the hearts of the other cardinals with a touching speech about their duties as men of the church. 

“i feel so nervous…” he bashfully admitted, “i’m happy you’re here with me, it really calms me down…”

throughout the entire filming process, you’ve been with him to support him from the sidelines. he was initially embarrassed by what his co-workers would possibly think of it, especially because you were visibly quite a bit younger than him, but they didn’t seem to mind in the least bit. if anything, they found your relationship to be absolutely adorable and were even a little jealous that he had his own personal cheerleader encouraging him in between the scenes. 

“don’t be nervous, there’s no one more perfect for this part than you are, i just know you’re going to do great,” you promised, placing the final touch of the golden cross around his neck.

after this, he would be going into cosmetics where they would rough up his appearance, dusting his red cloak with grey debris and dripping fake blood down his forehead to show the aftermath of the bombing, but you found yourself hesitating to let him go.

it’s no secret to either of you that you were obsessed with your husband and his boyish charms, but something about him in religious garments in particular was dangerously magnetic and tempting to your eyes. you’re not exactly sure if you’re even into that kind of thing, although, to be fair, it wasn’t so much the clothing as it was the man who was wearing them. 

he noticed your lingering, a little concern lacing his gaze, “is everything okay?”

god, he’s so sweet. he’s worried about your random pause, thinking something wrong came to mind, but no, you’re just getting turned on over him in clerical clothing like a depraved freak. “yeah, it’s just that… you’re so handsome, i don’t even know how you do it…” carlos can hear that phrase from your lips a thousand times over, and probably has, but it never fails to get him flustered as if he heard it for the very first time ever.

before he could thank you for the compliment, you got on your tip-toes to kiss him. wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer, moving your mouth from his lips, to his cheek, to his soft jaw, to his neck— not the usual little pecks you would often give him throughout the day, but rather, something a little more dangerous. 

when you finally pulled away from him and allowed him to spot the hazy lust clouding your eyes, he couldn’t help the nervous smile crossing his face, “i need to head to makeup in five minutes…”

“oh, but you know that’s all the time i need, don’t you? besides, i think it would do you some good if i helped with those pent-up nerves.”

after that reminder, carlos didn’t say another word of protest. how could he deny you of anything you wanted when you were looking at him like that? he would have to be absolutely crazy, which was the state he was about to be driven to as you pushed him to sit down on the soft dark-colored couch. kneeling in between his open legs, you gave his hand a cheeky little kiss on the palm, “just try not to be as loud as you usually are, okay?”

he wanted to scoff and insist that he wasn’t that loud, you just loved to exaggerate to tease him, but you didn’t give him the time to say anything as you bunched up the cossack in your hands and lifted the fabric to undo the look you had just spent so much time carefully perfecting. he was already half-hard when you finished stripping down his lower half, and you could feel the drool accumulate in your mouth at the sight before you allowed your tongue to dart out and started licking long stripes up his length. 

almost immediately, a low groan emitted from his chest, just as you expected it to. his hands pressed into the cushions to ground himself at the sensation of the building euphoria, allowing his head to fall back and for you to do as you pleased with him. your lips stretched over his tip as you lightly sucked on it, dipping your head lower to take more of him into your mouth and resting your hands on his bare inner thighs to prevent him from instinctively closing them when the pleasure starts getting too much for him.  

of course, it’s a bit difficult to keep focused on the task when you’re also busy admiring how handsome your husband is when he’s being pleasured. beads of sweat were starting to fall from his forehead, the cause being both the heat of your mouth enveloping him and from the slight anxiety of being late for the next appointment. his wavy black hair speckled with gray was starting to stick to the sides of his face, framing his handsome face like a biblical painting. his warm brown eyes were scrunched shut with his long lashes occasionally fluttering open, meeting with your own pupils which were blown out with lust. how on earth did you manage to be so lucky?

“don’t tease me,” he gasped. “there isn’t enough time for that.”

you wanted to scoff and remind him that there was always time for teasing, even if it was unintentional, but he had a point. the time constraints didn’t bother you nearly as much as it did him, however. you knew exactly how to push him over the edge and have him writing under you, bobbing your head back and forth, sucking up his length to the head before once again descending to the base in a constant and repetitive motion until he bursts. 

just then, a knock was heard against the door, interrupting the moment and making his head snap in the direction of the sound. he felt his heart racing faster than before, yet he still didn’t push you off. “yes?”  

“it’s stanley.” hearing his coworker who was a renowned actor he greatly admired at the door made him wonder if either of you had remembered to lock the door. “just checking in to see if you’re almost done, makeup wants to spend a little bit more time on you since you’re the focus.”

he swallowed thickly before answering, “y-yes… almost done…” it was difficult to keep a steady voice when you were swirling your tongue against the vein protruding from his shaft, looking up at him while he put his acting skills to work to avoid suspicion. 

“alright, but take your time, don’t worry about it. it’s normal to be nervous for a big scene like this,” he reminded before finally leaving, his footsteps growing quieter and quieter. 

before carlos could fully recover from the scare, you immediately went back to dragging your mouth on his cock, catching him off guard as his hand moved to settle on top of your hand without thinking in a poor attempt to get you under control, but he was weak when it came to you and was no match for your determination. you could feel his cock twitching like crazy in your mouth while you continued sucking him off, and he continued to lose more of himself at your mercy until he finally burst. 

despite the semi-salty taste, you were familiar enough with it to swallow it without second thought, giving him a few more licks to his softening erection to clean him off with a cheeky little smile while he recovered. 

“you’re going to get me in trouble one of these days,” he scolded, but his gentle tone proved that he wasn’t mad at you in the least bit, talking to you more like how he would with a puppy who was play-biting a little too hard. 

“maybe, but you’re not nervous anymore, right?”

you were right, it was as if all of his jittery nerves disappeared, and he was more ready than ever to film vincent benitez’s most defining moment that won him the papacy.

requested by anonymous:

CARLOS DIEHZ X READER!!!!! ITS A NEED NOT A WANT I NEED IT MORE THAN AIR

being a nun is a lonely existence, and also difficult when you’re expected to be living in the image of the virgin mary. pure and sinless, you follow her example every waking second of your life, living free from any earthly desires and being wholly dedicated to the lord. ever since you’ve devoted yourself to the holy father, you’ve found yourself forever silent and holding your head down before you even realized it, only being seen and barely heard as you speak in nothing but hushed whispers when spoken to, and being especially reserved in the presence of the cardinals you were sequestered with.

this is your first time being present in the process of a conclave, as your superiors deemed you suitable to serve during this momentous event, and you’re honestly hoping for it to be your last. you hate the thought of being more trapped in the literal sense than you already felt, and you would be stuck here until the new pope is elected. if you’re lucky, it would only be a few days, but knowing the ambitions of this year’s major candidates, you weren’t going to be holding your breath anytime soon. 

every passing second, every minor interaction with these men, from taking their electronics to serving their meals to cleaning their rooms, makes you more timid and shrink further into your shell. sister agnes reminds you frequently that you don't need to be so shy, to just think of them like you would with the other nuns, but it’s impossible to do so. knowing you were stuck here serving them made you want to run until you were long gone from vatican city.

you couldn’t stand it, the way they looked at you, as if you were lesser than or just some glorified maid. sure, some like dean lawrence were polite enough to say a word of thanks, but others like cardinal tedesco treated you dismissively like you weren’t worth a second of his time. either way, you chose to avoid them like they carried the plague and tried your best to remain hidden in the shadows where you wouldn’t be bothered (although they still occasionally call out to you to request for you to perform a service or errand for them, and all you do is give a taut smile and accomplish it as quickly and efficiently as possible so that you can be left alone once more).

most hours of the day, you grip your hands together in prayer to ask for strength from above, but you hate to admit that it’s impossible to ask for something from a god whom you weren’t even sure you believed in with each passing day. 

dedicating your life to faith was not your calling, it never was. you always knew this, but you had naively believed it would be the easiest and most convenient way to escape from the overwhelming pressures and expectations of life set by the people around you. you were too cowardly to stand up to them and blaze your own trails, so you took the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, using an exaggerated connection to god as a reason to leave and not spend the rest the rest of your life in the suburbs with a man you barely knew or cared for. you can only hope that the lord could understand your actions and forgive you if he was out there, taking your devotion for the rest of your mortal life as penance. it’s not like you saw a future for yourself outside of the stained-glass windows of the church anyway.

“sister, would you mind showing cardinal benitez to his room?”

“i thought all the cardinals were already situated?”

“well, it appears there was one who wasn’t on the list, the cardinal of kabul.” the tone of your superior was a bit sharp, like she didn’t like not knowing what was happening yet knew she had to follow orders without question. “due to his unexpected last-minute arrival, his room is quite a ways from the others, and since it’s his first time here, i would hate for him to get lost.”

your purse your lips together and nod, as she gave you instructions on where he will be staying for the duration of his conclave. she wasn’t joking when she said it was quite a ways from the others, it was in an entirely different building all together and nearly the entire corridor was just for storage. as sister agnes made her departure, you curtly bowed at the mysterious man, “this way, please.”

the busy sounds of the main area slowly faded out to nothing but footsteps and a single suitcase’s wheels dragging across the floors. he seemed friendly enough, and rather humble for a man of his status. vincent benitez, you learned his name was as you made small talk about his origins, apparently ordained a cardinal in pectore, which was why no one knew about his arrival, and he had to take public transit to the vatican. you were tempted to ask if it bothered him that he didn’t get the same fanfare and attention the other men did when their planes landed, but decided against it since it seemed too personal. besides, he seems like the type of person who prefers to be out of the public eye’s fanfare unless necessary. 

despite this conversation you’ve been holding with him, you haven’t dared to look him in the face yet with your gaze never raised past his waist. he’s the cardinal of kabul, but his accent seemed to be spanish, and while he was dressed in the appropriate robes, his rochet reached his feet as if he didn’t have access to anything more fitting and was a tripping hazard.

you unlocked the door to where he would be staying, swinging it open to reveal a dusty bedroom which likely hadn’t been cleaned in months. approaching a nearby desk, you ran your finger along the surface and tutted at the evident gray powder picked up, “this room is in worse condition than i expected, i’m so sorry…”

“no worries, i’m just glad to have a roof over my head to protect me from the weather— and air conditioning! italy is especially warm during this time.”

most of the others would have thrown a fit if they saw that there were forced to stay in this state, but you can’t say you’re surprised about his low expectation of living standards, “still, it’s unfit, and i would hate for you to get sick from breathing it in, so i’ll fetch some supplies and clean it as soon as possible.”

 “is that alright? i can do it myself, you’re probably very busy—“

“no, i insist, your eminence!” cleaning the room would probably take you about an hour, which is an hour spent away from anyone else and an hour spent in peace. 

“please, please, call me vincent,” he insisted with a chuckle at your meekness, holding onto your shoulders so that you would look at him, “and don’t be so afraid of me, i don’t bite, i’m just another sinner like everyone else.”

his words convinced you to finally lift your head to look him in the face, and you found yourself starting to melt at the sight of him with heat starting to rush to your face. he has the kindest eyes you’ve ever seen, unable to remember anyone who comes even close. not the overly formal eyes of cardinal lawrence or the diminishing eyes of cardinal tedesco, but soft-hearted brown eyes which saw you as more than what you were. it didn’t help that he was also handsome, even with his weary smile lines and the crow’s feet crinkling around the corners of his eyes. his age only added to his charm, and his mere presence and proximity were making you weak in the knees.

you would never dare say anything out loud, of course. even if you were only human and it was completely natural to feel attraction to another (even if the other was a man decades your senior), you needed to remember your vocation and the disgrace that would follow you around like a ghost for the rest of your life if you allowed yourself to act on this attraction.

besides, it’s not like a man as pious as he would ever give in to temptation. even if he did, he wouldn’t be interested in someone as plain as you.

“r-right, well— um, vincent, lunch with the other cardinals will be starting at any minute now, will you be able to manage without a guide?” god, why were you stuttering like an idiot in your grown age? there’s no way he didn’t notice, but he gave no indication that he did, so you were going to delude yourself into believing he had no idea.

“i think i’ll be able to figure it out, thank you.”

you were hardly able to think straight during the entire duration of the cleaning session, finding your mind drifting off to thoughts about the new inhabitant of the room rather than the room itself. you couldn’t help it, you were so curious about this mysterious man and wished to know more about him. from what little you knew about and saw from him, he seemed to have led an interesting life, especially since there weren’t any current cardinals ordained in pectore aside from him that you knew of.

that’s all it is, by the way, if you must know. curiosity, cursed upon you like it was on pandora, something seemingly so small that could bring everything down. you can’t allow it to be anything more unless you want to invite eternal shame into both your lives. 

over the next few days, you would often spot him exploring the grounds when he wasn’t sequestered within the walls of the sistine chapel to vote with the others, memorizing every detail from the brushstrokes of the historic artwork to the carefully chiseled swirls in the base of the pillars. most of the time, he would feel your watchful eyes from afar and notice, flashing an enchanting smile before motioning you to come closer, inviting you to come out from the shadows where you hid to join him. he always has something interesting or insightful to say, and he also always finds something to compliment you about. once it was how your hair peeked out from under your veil, another time, it was how gorgeous your eyes looked when the sun hit them just right. no matter how small or insignificant it seemed as a passing comment said in the most casual tone, it made heat rush to your face and wanted to hide away from his gaze at how flustered you became. it’s surprising, you would often roll your eyes at the compliments of men due to the fact that they seemed disingenuous with ulterior motives, regardless of how obvious your occupation was, but every word he said was so clearly meaningful and from the heart.

you haven’t felt this way in ages, not since you’ve taken your vows with your recent feelings being nothing but turmoil rather than the lovey-dovey romance you thought you would never experience. it was like high school all over again, when you felt your heart fluttering when that cute nerdy guy next to you in class asked you to be his valentine or when your pretty friend would spoon-feed you some of her strawberry ice cream. 

it’s childish and improper to be feeling this way, especially towards an older man, but you’re sure god would understand and forgive you when you prayed to him at your bedside when the moon was high in the sky. vincent is one of his beloved creations after all, and a beautiful one at that, but your feelings would never come to light if you had any say in it. 

once the conclave was over, he would go back to his home, and you would go back to yours, never to see each other again. that’s what you told yourself and believed in to keep your peace, trusting you would be able to go to confession and forget about him as well as this suffocating infatuation. it would only take a few days of strength before you could put it all behind you and act like these moments of weakness ever happened. 

that’s why your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw him step out onto the balcony in the signature dazzling white of the pope. the man whom you used to go on walks with to visit the nearby turtle pond was now one of the most powerful men in the world in the matter of a few days. you were conflicted, happy for him, of course, but you didn’t like the idea of how you were always going to be watching him from afar, seeing him in the news and hearing about him every day, never being able to forget about him with the memories you made together forever revolving in your mind. you were also scared that the papacy would change him for the worse, that the influence he had over the world would get to his head, and he would no longer bear the same kindness that he expressed to others in his heart. just the thought of him becoming no better than the other corrupted men of the church made you sick to your stomach.

maybe that’s why you agreed instantly without sparing a second thought when he asked you to stay in the vatican with him, hoping you were willing to act as an assistant of sorts to help him navigate this new change. although he’s been unintentionally vexing you every second of your life since you’ve met him, you couldn’t bear the thought of being away from him for even a moment. truly, you were just as weak-willed as eve was in the garden when she bit into the forbidden fruit. 

“so you’ll be staying in the vatican instead of returning home as you anticipated?”

“yes… well, his holiness has asked me to be his assistant until…” you trailed off, only just now realizing that this job would be something that would likely be something that lasts until his death unless…

“unless he dies or resigns,” sister agnes finished bluntly. “i certainly hope that there won't be a reason for the latter.”

your eyes flickered to her solemn face for a brief moment, not liking the implication she was making even though you knew deep down that she was right to be concerned. “there won’t be. he’s not the kind to be misled.”

she didn’t push the conversation any further since you clearly already got the hint, but she still couldn’t help but be concerned about the series of events that will inevitably happen. she’s seen this situation play out countless times in her life, sisters and brothers alike, growing too close to another and then allowing desire to overcome their dedication to their vocations. she’s seen your nightly excursions from afar, unknowingly cultivating romantic affection with lingering gazes and accidental touches that lasted seconds more than was friendly. 

agnes can pray that her suspicions won’t come true as much as she wants since the church can’t handle any more scandals than it already has, but if something were to occur, then she hopes you both have the sense and careful consideration to keep an affair under wraps. 

she gives it an estimated two weeks, one and a half if she was forced to be honest, which is all the thought she was willing to give it before heading back to her hometown and hopefully forgetting about the whole ordeal.

it all fell into chaos in just one. it was inevitable and impossible to avoid with too much internal back and forth, too many late-night hours thinking about the other rather than sleeping, and not nearly enough restraint to stay away once you realized what was happening. you always knew you were weak-willed, although you never expected vincent to be the one showing up at your door past midnight. 

he came to you soaking wet to the bone, saying something about how he was on his way back from the turtle pond after his evening check-up before getting caught in the storm, then running to seek shelter from you once he noticed a dim light from your bedroom window indicating you were still up. you could barely hear him due to the rain pouring against your window (and due to the fact that you were distracted by his disheveled hair that was wildly out of place and was sticking to the sides of his face, as well as how his clothing was clinging to the slender frame of his body and slightly translucent), but allowed him in regardless to wait out the bad weather. 

your lamp was yet to be turned off because you were too busy thinking about him and were reading a novel. having the light turned off would only make you feel like you were going insane with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company, but he didn’t need to know all that. 

trying to figure out exactly how you ended up in bed with him is impossible. you couldn’t retrace the steps or recall the exact words shared, something about helping him dry off and stripping off the darkened outerwear saturated with rainwater, then you soon found yourself helpless on your own bed with your legs thrown over his shoulders and his cock nestled deeply in your inviting heat. you felt like you couldn’t breathe in the moment, his presence all encompassing, his mouth on your stealing the air from your lungs, and a pleasure you never felt before blooming within you like roses on an early summer’s day.

you didn’t know what to do, where to put your hands, what sounds to cry out, what expressions to make, you ended up just covering your mouth with your palms to prevent any sinful noises from slipping. you weren’t sure about him, if he’s done this before or if he was somehow a natural, but you had no experience in the least bit. everything you knew came from racy novels your friends used to share at sleepovers while giggling, and when you took your temporary vows, you assumed you would live out the rest of your life without knowing what it would be like to feel another so intimately.

yet now, here you were, completely at the mercy of the sovereign pontiff himself. his hands moving yours away from the lower half of your face before pinning them on both sides of your head, intertwining his fingers with yours. “don’t try to hide yourself,” he whispered, “you’re so beautiful like this. please, let me hear you.”

hearing him praise you so earnestly made your heart race to the point that you thought it would beat out of your chest. all your life you’ve been silent and following the expectations set for you as a daughter and as a nun, but to have his holiness above you, holding you close with gentle thrusts and encouraging you to unravel as a butterfly would from her cocoon— it was a rebellion from everything you’ve ever known.

you should push him away, the rational part of your mind was screaming for you to do this. this was wrong, so very wrong for the both of you. this was a sin and a betrayal to the god you both worshiped and had set your lives to dedicate everything to, but how could something so wrong feel so right? you feel loved in his arms, like you’ve been waiting your entire life to be held by him, and he looks at you like you’re everything he’s been looking for in life.

he looks at you like you’re his saving grace.