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honestsycrets · 8 months

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brujería i: inhuman | ceo!miguel x succubus!reader

❛ pairing | ceo!miguel x succubus!reader

❛ type | doubleshot, explicit

❛ summary | since taking over his bio-father's company, miguel just can't seem to sleep. there may be someone behind that though. or, a succubus wants miguel.

❛ tags | some sacrilege, succubus!reader, ceo!miguel, sex-dreams, sleepy sex, dub!con: miguel is asleep during many encounters, exhibitionism outside of a church, f!reader, some mention of blood and wounds, au with deviations from canon, slight hurt miguel, slight caretaking peter, excessive bodily fluids, some mindgames.

❛ request fulfilled | Was wondering if i could request ceo!miguel x succubus! reader? whether he’s spider-man is completely up to you but reader is basically like a demon hiding in plain sight, toying and feeding on the sexual energy of people. maybe she’s a new hire and then she visits him in his dreams or smth. miguel becomes her target and he finds himself falling in love with her and wanting her so much it brings out an intense carnal desire inside him (1/2)

❛ sy's notes | i based some of miguel's sleep paralysis on my own experience. the catholic religious connotations are not very heavy, but if you're sensitive to that sort of thing, i'd probably skip this one.

Miguel O’Hara was never a superstitious man.

He grew up in a deeply Catholic home thick with superstition. His grandmother’s rosary still sat on his desk, enveloped in a spherical glass alongside stacks of organized paperwork on the latest drug his not-so-dearly held biological father left before he kicked it. Corruption was fiercely rooted, a fact that Miguel was not so subtle about. The papers he rifled through that morning revealed the stupidest account of Brujería among reports of Rapture.

“Brujería-- what bullshit,” he murmured as he dropped a stack of papers back onto the oak desk. He glanced at the glass tabletop and found his reflection therein. His eyes, crinkled at the edges, carried the reflection of countless days of his dark exhaustion. “Si no es una cosa es otra.”

“Miguel?”

“What, Lyla?” Miguel threw a glare at the ceiling at the AI that sang at him. She seemed far too happy with her position as the resident terror of his new office. New was an overstatement. It was his father’s before he croaked, reflected in some of his tacky taste in the things Miguel had immediately thrown out. Why else would it have a picturesque, but grandiose view of Nueva York but for a great view of the people he was destroying? The bright windows also did a bang-up job of burning his eyes

“The psychiatrist is here,” she chirped. “Are you going to tell her about your wet dreams?”

The flutters that danced over his skin at night at the strike of three. Foreign warmth caressed his skin like a warm blanket over his skin. His heart rate raced, and pleasure burrowed under his skin. It never failed that Miguel would wake to a rush of pleasure, cum painting his sheets sticky, his heart soaring into his throat. With such pleasure, why would he tell anyone but Lyla about his pathetic, ruined state that came night after night?

Miguel waved his hand in dismissal. He instead checked the chunky watch on his wrist. You're just on time. He appreciates a punctual professional given how much work he had to complete. In lieu of the report of spiritual abuse, he picks up the pile of sexual misconduct. That was a more pressing matter to address. The actual victims were far more important than some bruto’s complaint of ojos based on a huevo in some water. He should send these idiots to any middle schooler’s chemistry class. The bruja who was coming to visit him today could hardly be a source of concern.

“Why would I do that? Let her in. You listen in and I’ll unplug you.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Lyla teased, but he knew she was right. Lyla was one of his only friends and by far the one he spent the most time with. She has patience for him. He slips his reading glasses out of their holster as the lock on his office door hisses apart, welcoming in the strange woman whose name he could never find but in Stone’s personal records. A chroí, my love, like Stone could love anyone else but himself.

“Dr. O’Hara.”

Miguel slipped the lenses on. Not only was the woman before him, not the sort of hippy-dippy woman he expected, but you were… familiar. Oh, so familiar. He’s never met you before. Yet, he finds himself inexplicably pulled to closing the gap between your bodies.

You extend your hand for him to take.

“Dr…” You finished his sentence by offering your name.

“Have I met you before?” His large hand clasped your own. A blanket of warmth blossomed from your small hand in his grip. Gentle at first, your very same small hands laced in his. The sudden realization of where he’d seen you hit him like a bullet through the head: unexpected and instantaneous. The image rippled across his mind, Miguel’s hand collared on your nape, his fat dick splitting your cunt against his office’s wide windows. Another pulse of heat soared through his hand--

Miguel jerked his hand back. What in the hell?

“¿Estás bien?” You were so close that he could smell the perfume on your skin. A dark cherry, sultry, and so good. He was swimming in the vague delusion that was your skin against his. There was something delicious about the way you looked at him, tracing the outline of his tie that sat tightly behind a constricting vest. He was hazy, clumsily falling back into his office chair. Moving was tiring with the sudden vial of desire that flooded through his veins. You were at his side in an instant.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “It’s… the heat.”

“Oh! Stone's office is always hot. Here, I'll help you,” No-- he tried to argue. Against his wishes, you slipped his suit jacket off his shoulders and down his muscular arms, loitering a bit too long along his pumped biceps. “Though, I guess it’s all yours now, isn’t it? We all are.”

Miguel has no energy to fight you, lost in the haze that was last night’s forgotten dream. He’d never met you before, that much he was sure. Yet he swore, on all that was scientific and right, that he dreamed of your body on his, emptying him of any worries as he came into the nothingness of his sheets. It wasn’t just pleasure, it was a sea of rapture, and he drowned in it.

“According to your AI, you’re burning up lately.”

How do you know? You walked around his chair, your slender heels clicking over the hardwood floor. His eyes traced the curves of your velvet red pencil dress up to your bust as you leaned in, the back of your hand taking his temperature on his forehead. Your bust had delicate black lace detailing that enhanced your natural beauty. It scorched his ability to be a decent gentleman. Every man had their limits. He’s nearly at his, and you’ve only just arrived.

“You're so warm,” you gasped, but it's strained, a crack through stained glass. “Let me help you.”

You reached for the knot of his tie. That’s enough-- Miguel shoves your hand from his neck. He tugs the charcoal tie away from his throat, drawing it away from his white button-up. You wet your lips, drawing a sheen across your perfectly applied lipstick. You came in here with a plan and purpose to inflame him-- and did just that.

“Careful.”

A pause-- your eyes challenged him, seemed to know how weak he was in resisting the strain of lust that came with your mere presence. He was losing the fight quicker than he’d like. Miguel has to focus. “Your findings on Rapture’s… trial run. Where are they?”

“Destroyed,” you answered curtly.

"Project 2099?"

“Under seal. Oh, don’t look at me like that, hermoso. It wasn’t my choice.”

Hermoso. A flicker of anger shot through him as you reclined on his desk and ran your hands across the rim. You seem to notice the rosary on his desk, eyes lingering on it for more than a few seconds. You dipped so comfortably between propriety and looseness. The distance between your easily accessible skirt and his hardening erection is the entirety of only a few steps. “Stone’s orders, not mine.”

“There are no copies?”

“Why would there be? Stone was always very persistent with what he wanted.”

You? He doesn’t ask.

Something in him doesn’t want to think of it, what his father could have done to you that would make you so willing to stand so close to him. Your gaze faltered. You bore at his groin, his sleek dark slacks straining against his length.

“Now you want to know if I fucked him, que no?”

That's a yes. The way you slip onto his desk, legs slightly apart, tells him all he needs to know. His gaze falters, down then up again, an irrational amount of envy welling low in his belly. He found himself wondering what you’ve done in this very room. You bat your long lashes, far too pretty. He isn't easily dissuaded.

“I've barely met you and you want to know everything about my work and personal life. You’re so greedy. So like him.”

“I am nothing like that man.” At that very moment, his eyes locked with yours. A distant rage filled his belly. No one, he meant no one, compared him with that maniac. His tongue twisted in his mouth, ready to make some sharp remark, but you snatched his words by leaning forward, pressing your lips to his head. Your fingertips combed through his dark hair, a warm comfort. A kiss? His hands felt heavy, weighed down by an impossible weight, one he couldn’t push off no matter how much he strained.

"Hasta luego, Miguel.”

The door closes behind you with a clap. Back in the chair, Miguel was heaving heavy breaths. The restriction on his body loosened up and allowed Miguel to grab the black mirror stashed in a drawer below his desk. Your sticky lipstick left a stain on his forehead, strained with stress lines. He wiped away the red stain of your lipstick and rolled the remnants between his thumb and middle finger.

"Like Stone," he repeated with a hiss. "Mierda."

He wracked his hand around his swollen cock-- panting as he beat himself off, ecstasy claiming that he had to have you. The insatiable need to have -- his father’s whore-- overrode any of the papers on his desk. He came into the cold nothingness that is the air, his hands coated in his own essence. Miguel untucked a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped himself clean.

“Lyla? Who?” he gasped a breath, “Who is that woman?”

“Beats me,” Lyla thought she was so funny. “She’s not in any electronic records.”

“Really.”

Even if that was the case, Miguel would be damned if Stone got the better of him in death. Miguel cleaned up his hand and whirled open the sexual harassment folder-- he was nothing if not a determined man.

You shouldn’t be here. No, really, you should not be employed here.

He doesn’t know your qualifications because he cannot find them. In the electronic documents, your file is bare bones. The suggestion of your education is non-verifiable but signed off by Stone himself. If it were only him, he might chalk it up to corruption. But there were others-- other dead bodies-- who signed off on your highly amended report on Rapture. The board claimed your employment was not a subject for discussion. Even if he were the face of the company, you were untouchable.

He left his office to the small coffee shop on the third floor. The man who ran it, Peter, was a refreshment from the stress of the day in his own, weird little way. It was probably the high quantity of caffeine that kept him awake.

On the surface, Miguel’s dreams are unoffensive. Light things, like fingers brushing veins that creep along his muscles, soapy breasts dragging along his chest. Using your body like a sponge to clean him after a heavy session at the gym. You are always on your knees, suckling the cum free from his cock with an angelic little flutter of your lashes and those sultry, cat-like eyes. He was in a state of constant arousal with nothing to show for it but a consistently swollen dick. At his age, he considers it a feat.

“You’re so sexy, Peter.”

There it was again. Your giggle over top of the sound of the hiss of a coffee machine. Peter was laughing, shy, or uncomfortable, he couldn’t quite tell. Miguel slips off his wire sunglasses, looking along the bar for the source.

“Hey, Miguel!”

He paced around the corner, then back. There are a few work couples and colleagues speaking with one another. Their tables are fresh with coffee and tea, tiny wrapped sandwiches a poor lunch. You’re conspicuously absent. The lack of sleep was fucking with his head, it had to be. He settled the glasses into the lining of his suit pocket and withdrew his wallet.

“Miguel! You'll never guess who came by. Uh, the usual?” Peter bounced over, leaning over the cash register with a glitter in his eye. He was more upbeat than even usual. Some girl must have made his day, he decided. Sí, he rumbled. Miguel dipped his fingers into his wallet to pull out his card only to be stopped short of the action.

“Nope,” Peter pushed Miguel’s hand away. “Someone paid for you.”

“For me?” Miguel settled the card in its proper slot. “Who?”

“You know,” Peter whispers. "The bruja."

“She was here?” he repeated, following Peter across the side of the bar as he began to make his coffee. Peter is an airhead, a wonderful airhead. Some part of him is infectious on days when he’s not being stalked by a woman with no traceable name. It was as if you were wiped clean. “When?”

“About two hours ago? She said you looked spooked and left me some money for your coffee. I think she likes you.”

You were doing more than liking him.

“And why would you think that?” Miguel pulled out a chair at the bar, humoring the scrawnier man. Peter frothed some milk, a fluffy cloud of relaxation on top of his usual coffee dusted with cinnamon and nutmeg. Miguel takes the mug from Peter, wrinkling his nose at the addition of nutmeg.

“Well, she turned down some dude from marketing,” Peter mentions. “I've been here for a while and-- she rarely turns anyone down.”

You rarely turn anyone down?

It bothered him long after he finished the coffee. You’re so sexy, Peter. You weren’t there. Peter told him that you’d been gone for two hours. He should not have heard the wisps of your caramelized voice in the coffee shop.

It’s the exhaustion, Miguel convinced himself. He just needs the weekend, to rest.

By Saturday night, he hit his last nerve.

Restful sleep would not come. He lay in his large, empty king-sized bed after searching through files for another project that had no other name but 2099 for the entirety of ten long hours. Any information-- redacted-- but your name slapped over the top and bottom of countless documents was like a great, big fuck-you O'Hara. The more he read about you, the angrier he became. You enraged him, but he was positively enthralled with your presence.

He lay in bed listening to should-be soothing jazz that now grated his ear. Night after night, his torment never failed. When he finally found an instance of peace, his muscles locked up. Not quite awake, but not quite asleep. Heavy pressure overtook his chest and arms forced him to remain still. The world fazed in and out, doom on beating alarm bells in the back of his mind. Then he felt it, the phantom pressure on his neck that slid over his tawny skin, from his belly to the dark happy trail that dipped below his silky pants.

Miguel gritted his teeth and ripped himself from his trance. When his eyes popped apart, he was greeted by his shock. Hunger flowed through him in warm waves, piercing underneath his skin. Miguel’s fingers twinged, your phantom figure on top of him. It looked like you, but misty, as though an illusion. In the darkness, he can only make out the shadows that bounce off what little light is in the room.

“Motherfucker--”

Though he said that, your teasing fingers freed him from his cozy pants, ripping them around his hirsute thighs. His length lulls against his body, a shameful drool of cum gathered at his cock. A night of phantom touches has done him in. Miguel lurched back onto his flat pillows when he was abruptly shoved down by an outrageous amount of force. With his arms thrown up by his head-- he whimpered, frustrated with tonight's-- dream, delusion, dare he say-- reality. His joints were locked by invincible chains that forced him to stay in place. The more he fought, the hotter his need became for what came next. His body was pitifully trained.

He wasn’t certain that it was you-- but it smelled so deeply of your perfume, rich and cherry, flooding his nostrils. So familiar. He glanced down at the opaque figure, grinding over his hard cock. A pair of hands crashed onto his shoulder, claws curling into his broad shoulders. Blood seeped forth. A growl gathered in his chest, ripping up when something warm and tight sunk down on his bobbing dick. Miguel gritted his teeth: it had been a long time since he’d been with anyone. Not for a lack of viable partners, but his annoyance with them all.

Despite his immense muscle, he was too weak to do anything about it. Even if he could, what would he do? Throw off the sex-crazed hallucination on his dick? You rolled your hips over him, suckling him right back up. Hypnotized by the smoky illusion, Miguel gazed on begrudgingly, grunting as you rolled over him, his dick straining your insides. He was a toy, nothing more and nothing less, used for his fat cock that split your airy body apart. His hips jerked, frustrated as he found he could go no deeper. You punished him by dragging your claws over his swarthy shoulders, over his collarbones. Blood ripped free, sliding down his deltoids.

“Chingado,” Miguel’s lips parted for the word, hips juddering up like a hungry slut. It wasn’t normal, the warm tickle of your lubricant over his shaft, exquisite in its nature. His heels dug into the bed, balls tightened. He was so damn close to his relief, he could taste it on his tongue, bordering somewhere between immense pleasure and decadent pain. Your need for his pain won out, dipping down over his chest and latching your fangs over his chest-- then up, hooking on the front of his throat. It was going to bruise, badly.

You shook loose his orgasm, ripped free with the need to fill you, own you-- as though he were not the one being owned. His hips staggered, sticky whips of cum coating your walls in waves. More than he’d cum before before. His eyes shut hard, tears pricking the sides of his eyes. Then, as if it never happened, the hold on his hands was released. He struggled with his freedom, his hands slack, softening cock worthlessly weeping over his thigh. The pain-- oh, the pain, it washed over him moments later.

“Woah,” Lyla interrupted, “Miguel! What happened?”

She couldn’t see you. His eyes were like two dark coins, staring up at the ceiling, wide, and unseeing. He can hear her frantic questions, the ligature marks left behind from invincible chains, and the all-too-real blood and bruising that left him utterly ruined.

“It,” he choked out, heat biting at his well-chiseled face. “It hurts.”

He doesn’t remember what comes next. It was five in the morning when he finally rolled out of bed, and onto the floor, gripping the growing headache that grew miserably behind his head. Bitterness bubbled in his stomach, exhaustion in his eyes. The aberration that was his poor sleep was irksome more than anything. He felt someone’s eyes on him, soft and worried, rushing to his aid as though he were an old man who fell off a bed.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Peter said with an undercurrent of concern soaring through his words. “No, wait. I got you.”

He helped him sit against the frame of his bed, a frame that looks small as shit with Miguel’s large body against the frame. He’s unsure of what to say, assuming that Lyla called him in desperation, and let him into the house that Peter most definitely did not have a key to. Miguel’s chest ached. “What happened? Are you… are you okay?”

Everyone seems to ask him that lately.

“I’m fine,” he was alien to the feeling of care. He knew when Miguel dug himself into a hole. Miguel didn’t want to think about what happened only a few hours prior when his exhaustion took over his body and knocked him out. He dreamed of nothing. An abyss of unsettled nothingness, the ache low in his belly to fuck you until you were soaked in his cum and Miguel could finally, finally rest his tired eyes. Miguel pulled on a fluffy white robe Peter supplied, dragging it over thick strips of gauze and medical tape.

“You don't look fine.”

They both know he’s lying, but what else could be said? That the state Peter saved Miguel from was a rarity? That he’s used to being preyed upon by his own delusions? He needs a fuck, maybe that’s it.

“If you’re going to stay, be useful and get me that file.”

“Oh-- okay, this one?” he doesn’t look surprised. He padded across his room to his desk, kicked a chair that was falling apart aside, and picked up the folder on Brujería. It was buried behind more useful folders such as sexual harassment and inter-employee workplace violence. A fact that Miguel wasn’t exactly proud about in the first place.

“Brujería? Like witch stuff, right? No way. You think work is haunted too?” Peter says with a choked-out, nearly forced laugh. Miguel doesn’t pay himself enough for this. Of all the files at hand, it was nearly untouched. It included such things as ancestors, spirits, demons, and curses.

“I don’t. But the workers obviously do.”

Peter was soft and kind, but not stupid. He plopped down next to him and crossed his legs one over the other.

“The ones that say she’s a bruja?” Peter tapped on your photo. Your photo offers emptiness. That though you have a bright smile in the photo, it is undoubtedly fake. He never saw a woman look so innocent and sweet, but dangerous.

“You’ve heard?”

“Well, the men she hangs around always end up dead. They get all successful and rich then, bam, dead. But you can’t believe that right?” Peter reasons. “She’s not cursed, she just has bad luck. She’s always been nice to me.”

“A curse?”

“Yeah,” his warm breath wavers into a sigh. “Stone wanted company, found her in Sacred Heart-- you know, the one they say is cursed?”

“A cursed church? Give me a break. The only curse at Sacred Heart are the exploitive priests.”

“I’m just saying what I heard,” he’s whispering, shivers wracking up his arms at the mere mention. He tries not to push him anymore. Peter stood up and walked to the coffee stand in the corner of his dark room. For the days that he couldn’t be bothered to leave his room, he’d make a hot coffee in the corner and keep working just as he always did. “She’s always been nice to me.”

“Maybe you’re not her taste.”

“Yeah well, probably not. I don't look like you-- but she did call me sexy, so that's something right?” Peter laughed, “Want a cup of coffee?”

Sexy. That's it, he's so fucking sick of this shit.

“No, I don’t want a cup of fucking coffee,” Miguel bit back, shoving the bed several inches as he pushed his hand off of it, storming into his walk-in closet. “Lyla. When is mass at Sacred Heart?”

“Sacred Heart?” Lyla laughed. “You’re kidding--”

“Lyla,” he snarled, chucking his bag across the closet. It connected with his tall, black safe with a loud boom. She was quiet for a moment, undoubtedly momentary confusion for why non-believer Miguel O’Hara wanted to go to, of all things, a Catholic mass.

“6:30,” she answers.

“I’ll go with you,” Peter calls out.

Don’t bother, Miguel returns from the next room.

It’s been a long time since he dressed for mass-- some dark brown slacks and a warm, vanilla button-up. He snaps a chain necklace around his thick, bruised throat and his favorite watch. As he grabbed the manilla folder on brujería he felt like a child, lectured by his grandmother to not be like his bad man-loving, alcoholic mother and go to church. Despite very much not believing in any of this shit, it was frustrating, annoying even, that he had to go back there.

He didn’t want to go but his spirit was unsettled. Something told him that going to his grandmother’s favorite church would give him a sense of illumination, that it would make sense of the things that made no sense.

Sacred Heart stands on a hill, both physically and metaphorically. It takes offerings off the backs of the poor and sits atop a lush hill. Its stained-grey architecture is only beautiful by virtue of its stained-glass murals. He doesn’t care for the saints that loom overhead, unseeing eyes judgemental and cold. Viejitos and the truly devout are the only ones in attendance. Based on Peter’s account, he should expect you there. It doesn't take long to be proven right.

“Bendición.”

Is he hallucinating again? Despite the many rows of unspoken burgundy benches, you sit by him. Miguel is disconcerted as you slide your thick hips by, sandwiching him between the side of the bench and your chunky, beautiful thighs. He worked his words in his mouth for entirely too long.

“Dios te bendiga,” he said, the words chalky and thick in his throat, drawn up from the bottomless abyss of his fluttery stomach. You sat with a black lace veil pinned to your head. The only sort of women who wear a veil are very old or not Catholic at all. He veers on the latter. “You’re Catholic?”

“If you want me to be.”

“Why else would you be here?” he reached over and plucked up a cheap bible from a pouch behind the bench before him. Your eyes follow pupils dilating in a way that isn’t human at all, staring at the many words on the page that spun under his thumb.

“I think you know why,” you said with soft and pliable words. He felt himself melting.

Of course, Miguel thought, you always seem to show up during the most inopportune times.

"You didn't bring a bible," he offers it to you. Your eyes, dilate wide and bright at the sight of the thing, flicker a look down to it, then Miguel again.

"I prefer to listen." You turn away from it. He flipped it in his hand before returning it to its rightful pouch. For some reason, you did not want to be close to the book. He thinks he knows why.

“So you are stalking me.”

"Stalking is such a mean word, Miggy. Haunting, I like haunting better." Miguel throws open the report. He doesn’t want to read it-- but it is the last folder that may hold the information he needs. Your eyes fluttered to the footsteps of others filling their spot, an archaic song on the lips of the practitioners. Wrong page, Miguel.

"What was that?" he asked you.

"Nada."

He looked down to his lap where the report sat. The voices of those present, their lips forming an off-tuned song, itched at his already exhausted mind. The more he fought, the worse it became. You flipped open a black fan and cooled yourself with long flicks of your wrist. He doesn’t think it’s so hot.

“The rosary on your desk is from here, isn’t it?”

How would you know?

“You’re hiding something.”

Page 76. His fingers thumb on the pages on their own accord. Your eyes traced the movement, looking down at the pages before him. On deaths of company men.

I just do.

The thought entered his mind without prompting. He scanned names on the page. Aaron Delgado… asphyxiation. Tyler Stone… myocardial infarction. There were photos pinned there, photos that shouldn’t be so graphic, but somehow are. The men are as naked as the day they came into the world.

“If you say so, Miggy.”

“What are you hiding?”

You brought your hand over the file, closing it shut on top of his hand. He turns his hands over the top. Your fingers run over his knuckles, in misleading circles. “Are you sure you want the truth?”

“I don’t hide from the truth.”

“The truth,” you leaned in, your words husky against his ear. “The truth is I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m a good girl, Miggy. You have to believe me.”

Something about the way you spoke enraged him, prickling him enough to force him to stand in the middle of the priest’s words. He snatched your wrist with his thick hand, gripping you enough to leave pepper bruises across your skin. Your heels clicked after his boots, out through the foyer, past the bath of holy water, and down the discolored steps.

“Miguel?” you sang like a siren.

He’s hit his limit, throwing you against the discolored church wall. A gasp punched out of your lungs, aggravated by Miguel’s large hand strangling the breath from your throat. He felt warm as he kicked your legs apart and took up that space. The heat doesn’t feel like it is his. His bulge against your skirt certainly is. Now, he seems to expect pleasure when he is in your presence.

“You want me to fuck you, sí? That’s why you’re tormenting me every fucking night.”

“I thought you liked cumming,” you relinquished with a harsh giggle. It grates his last nerve. “You finally look relaxed when you do.”

“Qué mala eres,” Miguel snatched the bottom of your skirt, ripping it up the slit to expose your warm skin. He found no panties there, just smooth skin. He cupped your sex for emphasis. “No panties in church. You're filthy.”

“¿Y qué? You’re proving why I didn’t need them.”

He stared, lingering for a moment, challenging your insistence on control. Since he took over this god-forbidden company, you had been defying him with your devilish smile. Miguel slapped your cunt, eliciting a groan that was half of the pain that he’d had only a few hours ago. You liked it, scratching lines up his arms to his broad shoulders.

“You’re so big,” you balanced his abuse with your overwhelming worship. “So big and pretty.”

“Shut up,” he bit out and slipped his middle finger inside of you, unconcerned for your pleasure. Your muscles tightened around his finger, drawing him deeper. He slides another beside it, his hand leaving your cunt to slap your jaw, forcing you to keep focus. Your tender flesh is hot and red, a wonderful tenderness radiating throughout your jaw.

“And you're dripping, do you have no shame?” He grips your chin to look at your face. Raw defiance was slapped across your face. You rolled your hips onto his hand, forcing him to caress your walls in the right spot. He perked his brow, listening to the priest lecturing in the background. Your sweetness drooled over his curled wrist, dripping from his squelching fingers.

“For you,” you whined. “I want your dick. Give it--”

“You’re a brat.”

He said that-- but he was amused. Miguel slipped down onto his knees, knocking your legs rudely apart. His mouth encircled your puffy clit, bringing it into his mouth and suckling it fat. His rhythm was quick, making a point that he could make you cum too. You weren’t debating him, your hands tight in his hair, loud little moans beating free from your lips. His tongue was warm and soft, kissing and nipping.

The priest went quiet.

“You’re being too loud. Do you want them to hear us?” Miguel’s brow furrowed, slipping up from your vulva.

"Why is that my problem?" You whined in distaste after he stopped pleasuring you, your pulsing cunt beating like an open wound. Asshole.

"You could care for someone other than yourself." Miguel tilted his head, turning you to face the wall. He pulled himself free of his pants-- his thick cock fat against the curve of your ass. That’s what you wanted, he decided, gauging by your whine that came with his action.

"How does that get me what I want?" You shook your ass at him, waiting for him to rear back.

“This is what you wanted, hm? Fine, have it. Just shut up."

He leaned over you, your scratchy black veil catching along his stubble. He doesn’t wait for a response, pushing inside. He wasn’t just thick, he was long. But he knew you already knew that-- you knew every curve of his body, loved the thick veins on his cock that filled you so well. You scratched at the wall as he crushed you into the wall, his hips stuttering with your walls tightening him, drawing him further, impossibly deep.

Estúpida, he thought-- and knew you’d hear it. Whatever you were, you weren’t human. You were somewhere between a human and desire itself, evident in the way you looked at him, pleasured by his rutting hips against the church. The priest went back to his lecture-- the churchgoers enraptured in their worship. The only thing Miguel was enraptured with was the way your pussy tingled, the fluid soaking his cock, and the stretch in your lower belly. His hand clasped over your mouth, index finger poking into your mouth. Your tongue drew him in, fangs nipping his finger.

It earned you a hard slam, stuffing you full, your strange body catching his thrusts beautifully. He slipped his hand over your soft cunt, working your clit for your orgasm, though you deserved no such thing. Habit, he supposed. Gloria a Dios-- the churchgoers clammed with one another. Nearly out of time, your pleasure won out, gushing over his fat cock. Miguel suckled a breath, his ego demanding him to hold out, batter your sweet cunt through your orgasm.

“I’m hungry-- Give it to me,” you bit on his finger, breaking the skin and urging blood to flow into his mouth. Your body twitched violently around his cock, drawing bright pleasure forth. “Give me your cum.”

"Stay out of my dreams."

"I don't want to," you reared your head back at him, your nose tight with wrinkles. He drew you fully onto his dick, the final thrusts were sloppy and immature-- but he held out, making you angrier by the second.

"I'll cum on the floor right here, I don't give a shit."

"No, no! Fine! I promise-- I'll let you sleep," the threat of going hungry is enough that you concede, punching your fist against the wall. He grunts in response and feeds your body with whips of cum that felt far heavier than his usual. A pleasure, far sweeter than any orgasm he could give you. Miguel soaked your sweet little body with his sticky cum, chest swelling heavily against your little back. He finishes and pulls himself free. To his surprise, your cunt doesn’t leak. Miguel staggers back with a perk in his eyebrow.

You look far better for wear than he does, clumsily zipping himself back into cum stained slacks, running his hand through his sweat-soaked hair. You recline on the wall, inspecting him. He knows how he looks. He's bruised, long gashes down his chest, and properly fucked-- a mess. The manila envelope sits forgotten by your heels, your skirt-- perfect, as though he never tore it in the first place.

“You’re not human.”

Miguel bends down, picking up the folder. Not like he needs it anymore. He does, however, need that information on Project 2099. I can help you, he hears. He catches your wide, toothy smile. You've grown fangs. He isn’t surprised.

“Not even a little.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #spider 2099 x reader #miguel/reader #atsv imagines #atsv imagine #atsv fic #atsv fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara/reader #across the spiderverse fic #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara imagines

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novistarplanet · 9 months

Text

Daddy's Girl

ExDrugDealer!Connie x BlackReader

summary:

cw:

wc;

a/n; hope yall don't get offended by this only read this over once this is also for my fllwers 🩷 + requests are open

Growing up you were raised with a very religious background your furthest memory to date was your mom making you sing in the choir.

You didn't mind at all you actually liked going to church at times with your father being the pastor you were inspected to be modest all the time since you had a reputation to uphold.

Which means no growing up. No parties, No skimpy clothing, and most importantly No boyfriends.

You could never wrap your head around it.

"Y/N pull out your bible and pay attention maybe kids your age can learn something from it" Your Auntie Ruthie smacks your arm with her hand fan.

pulling out your pink bible turning the page to the scripture.

It felt like forever of your dad preaching about the same things but with different words.

Each time he finishes reciting the stories a string of "hallelujahs" and "amen" flooded the medium-sized church.

it was going just like every Sunday went it was just about time for offering when you noticed a man well boy with a collection of tattoos that marked his neck and entire two arms standing beside your father

"Brothers and sisters ill like to introduce a new family member of our church Brother Springer"

looking around you it's clear as day not everyone was with the idea of him joining.

His full name was Connie Springer or "Constance" as people called him in the streets. He was a big-known drug dealer in the area who was recently shot.

Who now found himself in your daddy's church ranting about him finding God.

Did you believe him? Hell No. But as a Christian, you have to see the good in people.... so who are you to judge?

“Now folks I want you to open him with open arms lets all bow our heads and say a prayer towards this young brotha!” on cue, everyone bowed their head as your father recites the words.

You could feel eyes watching you while each word was spoken. slowly opening your eyes up you see Connie smirking at you biting his lip

you couldn't help but stare he was oddly attractive your aunties warned you to stay away from thugs and deadbeats.

but something about him made your heart skipped.

closing your eyes again focusing on the prayer and blocking him out but it wasn't too long before negative thoughts filled your mind.

dirty ones.

you have been having dreams of someone buried deep between your plush dark toned thighs slopping all over your messy cunt while one of his hands is wrapped around your neck.

rising up from your two soft pillows your clear juices dripping from he’s barely visible stubble beard.

His hands soon found home around your jaw shaking it roughly

“open your fucking mouth bitch” the dark figure huffed out.

quickly opening your mouth obeying his command

he used the hand that was wrapped around your jaw lifting it up and shoving it back down.

“you know what to do stop actin dumb” he takes his other hand that was originally holding your thigh to slap you across the face till your pink little tongue came out.

“ m’imma reward you for being so good” he hurtles a gob of spit down your throat forcing you to swallow it.

“yea thats it you really want daddy’s dick huh? you fuckin dirty whore” he lets go of the placements of hands as now they found their way towards his pants.

unzipping them revealing dark blue boxers with a large bulge

slowly pulling the-

“Y/N! You better not be sleep!” your auntie hits your side again slightly shoving you.

by the time you opened your eyes, everyone was on their way out probably going to red lobster or olive garden.

“now this is my first and only daughter y/n” You look over to see your dad talking to Connie looking directly at you.

connie still had the look in his eyes he did before

“well look at gawd y/n come over here and say hi to our new member”

you walk over gripping at your coral-colored dress.

“Hola hermosa, ¿cómo estás?” he spoke his spanish fast and you couldn’t lie you found it attractive especially the way hes tongue moves

“huh?? sorry im not very fluent in spanish” heat flooded your cheeks quickly. maybe you should have paid attention in spanish.

“ahh it’s okay Cariño i was either at first” followed by that he opened hes mouth displaying hes pearlie white teeth shiny teeth and me you guess.

“well good news baby connie here is coming to bible study”

okay what does that have to do with you???

“and you’re gonna help him find the way of god”

WHAT??

Today was the day you and connie were having a one on prayer session. You didn’t even know the boys last name.

and here you are wearing a simple peach shade dress with white stockings underneath.

not to mention the black lace bra that cups your breasts perfectly

you walked in to see Connie already there reading over the bible

he was wearing a wife beater tattoos marked all over hes two arms depictions of guns,skulls and you even spotted prayer hands.

you quickly rush towards your seat right in front of him he slowly raises he's head up meeting you in the eye.

"how long have you been staring at me hermosa?"

you quickly bended your head down shying away from he's grazed as he chuckles.

"im just joking with your baby"

despite the lingering sexual tension in the air you continue preaching

"uh okay so in Matthew 4:1 it talks about temptation from the devil and"

as you continue with the verse you can feel hes eyes lingering across your stockings you couldn't help but to look towards hes peeking becip.

during the session Constance lip bites , winking and even hes hand traveling too far down your cleavage

" and we drink the grape juice to symbolize Jesus’s purity an-“

“your not pure are you”

your head whips up with quickness as the words left hes mouth”

“what are you talking about?”

“i know you we’re having a wet dream about me sunday”

he arises from hes chair and puts your right leg over hes shoulder

he pulled up your skirt exposing your white dolly panties with a small bow on top with a small patch of wetness on the soft cloth.

“the only name i respond to is daddy” his hands found comfort around your throat. testing the waters he squeezed tightly.

“ is that clear whore?”

“yes daddy” small tears begin to prick from the corner of your eyes.

everything happened so fast your skirt and panties fully removed with your left breast making an appearance out.

“ do i have permission?”

you noticed his pants were ready off leaving him in his boxers in the short time you came to terms with everything.

slowly nodding your head up and down in agreement

“words hermosa”

“yes daddy”

he , mischievously grins down at you pulling off in boxers in a swift motion revealing he's length in all its greatness

you never seen a dick face to face this was all new

the tip of he’s head lined up to your entrance making its way inside of you

you can feel your body being rigid with inch length goes in

“Dios mío why didn’t you tell me you were this fucking tight”

he started moving in and out of you at a slow pace. You can tell by the look on his face he was holding himself back

he made soft movements as he kept going in and out

the pain on its own was unbearable it was like someone stabbing your uterus over and over again it didn't make it no better that you can feel him knocking at the entrance of your Cervix.

after a while of bad after bad thumps pleasure develops in your tummy.

"ohhhhh my god"

your hands went down and gripped the base of the chair despite the loud sounds the chair constantly makes. he stops for a minute repositioning himself into a better angle and striking himself back in you. His movements came with practice and skill as he continuously flicker your G-spot. You breathes were uneven and lost in the noises that your pussy made.

you could tell he was close he's movements became more sloppier with each stroke.

"im cumming oh my fucking god im cumming"

he's fingers found their place on your clit going in a circular motion.

you too both groan loudly together while the waves of pleasure passed you as he spills himself inside you he speaks again with he's deep voice.

"same time next Wednesday?"

#connie springer x reader #connie springer x black reader #connie springer x y/n #connie springer x you #imma add tags later #editing this later #for my followers #love yall

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daytaker · 3 months

Note

i have come back with more questionable mc behaviours as a treat

mc who’s a LeVeyan satanist, that or another idea of a similar variety which is when mc gets teleported they were wearing a “hail satan” shirt

also i loved the creepy scientist like mc (๑>◡<๑) - clown anon

Clown Anon MCs - [ Clowncore MC | Death-Fixated Science Geek MC | LeVeyan Satanist MC ]

I want to own a Sheep MC plush that wears a Hail Satan shirt. I want that to be among my possessions when I die.

That out of the way...

(cw: references to drug use, references to sex, this is the church of satan. sex drugs and rock n roll. this gets extremely silly towards the end.)

Satanists Don't Believe in Satan

You were vibing to Eurythmics, sitting cross-legged in your bedroom and trying to meditate while your Snake, Dr. Faust, wound his way around your arm. And then, suddenly, you weren't. The shag carpet was replaced by a hard wood floor, and the warmth of your bedroom was replaced by the cool draft of a large assembly hall with windows. And some punks in military academy uniforms were scowling at you.

"What the fuck? What gives?" You were really confused. Did you already hit the acid and you're so high you forgot? You stood up and looked down at yourself. You were still wearing your CoS shirt and pink pajama shorts, and you still had on your fluffy slippers.

"Welcome, uhhh...." A big guy in red squinted at a piece of paper, then looked at me. "Is your name actually Omen LeVey?"

"That's what it says on my driver's license, bitch." Dr. Faust wound his way up your arm and into your shirt. He clearly didn't appreciate the change in temperature either.

"It's not too late to swap them for someone else, is it?" whispered a dark haired man to Big Red.

Big Red ignored him. "Welcome, Omen, to the Devildom! I'm sure you're very confused, but everything will make sense soon. You have been chosen to participate in an exchange--"

"Where do you think you're going?" The dark haired bitch cut off Big Red as I walked to the door.

I turned around. "Uh, out?"

"Out where, exactly?" asked the bitchy one.

"Out of here? I'm not sitting around waiting for you to go through some sort of timeshare presentation with me. However I got here, I'm sure I'm high as fuck, and I'm not going to spend my time high as fuck getting talked at by this dude. No offense, Red."

Ten minutes later, you were tied to a chair in the middle of the assembly hall. Big Red, the bitch, and three other guys stood around you, unsure what to do.

"Is this, like, an ex of yours or something, Satan?" one of the extras asked another. They were both twinks, and they were also both quiet up to this point, so you couldn't really think of how to differentiate them on the fly.

"No? What are you talking about?"

"Their shirt!"

All five guys stared at your graphic tee, which was black with white splatter text that read:

"CHURCH OF SATAN "DO WHAT THOU WILT SHALL BE THE WHOLE OF THE LAW" - SATAN PROBABLY"

"I can't believe Satan has an entire church dedicated to him! I wonder if there are churches to me," Twink 1 said with a sigh.

"That's not a church dedicated to me," replied Twink 2. "Their entire doctrine is a repudiation of my very existence. You should educate yourself, Asmodeus."

"Helloooo? Excuse me?" You wobbled in your seat, trying to get their attention. "Since I don't have any choice but to listen, I'll allow you to go ahead and tell me what the fuck is going on."

Big Red sighed at began to explain again. "You've arrived here in the Devildom as an exchange student from the human world. For the next year, you will be living here in the Devildom with us demons, attending the Royal Academy of Diavolo, or "RAD", we we tend to call it."

"...Okay, so clearly this is a bad trip, so I'm gonna politely ask if we can skip to the part where I'm finished having sex with my downstairs neighbors and I turn into a ball of energy? Like. C'mon. Chop chop."

"I am Diavolo, acting lord of the Devildom. And this is Lucifer, my right-hand demon and confidant." He gestured to the bitchy one.

"Charmed," you said in a voice saturated with sarcasm. "What about those three?"

"Ah," Diavolo said, nodding. "Those are Asmodeus, Satan, and Beelzebub. They are Lucifer's brothers."

"This is so wild. So Satan and Lucifer aren't the same dude?"

"Careful what you say," said Twink 1--or Asmodeus, as you now knew him to be. "You'll make Satan angry!"

"Sorry bro. Look look look, though, I'm in your fan club." You hope your shirt with Satan's name on it will butter that one up--Satan is Twink 2, as it turns out; a skinny blonde kid with a yellow bow tie. You aren't sure how to feel about that, exactly. You'd always pictured him as a cartoon goat-man, more or less.

"Do you really think you can butter me up by claiming that the Church of Satan is my fan club?" He scowled at you, looking indignant. "Didn't you hear me earlier? I'm aware of what your so-called 'church' teaches, and while I'm not opposed to the ideology in a broad sense, I can't support a group that considers my very existence to be a joke."

"Hey, hey, it's not a joke," you said soothingly. "You're just the theological equivalent to the Queen of Engand. Powerless, probably fake, definitely dead, but you look good on merchandise."

"Do you want to die?"

"Sometimes."

"Omen, you will be living with these four and two of their brothers for the next year." Diavolo smiled at you, apparently choosing to ignore every word you've spoken.

All four of the brothers looked crestfallen.

"Oh, yeah, I feel real fuckin' welcome. Roll out the wagon, why don't ya?"

"Is your name actually Omen LeVey?" asked Big Red again in a murmur, looking at his sheet with as mystified an expression as ever.

Dr. Faust, still coiled around your arm, peeked out at the world again and flicked his tongue. Asmodeus screamed, and Lucifer pointed at you and demanded, "Diavolo, swap it for a different one!"

---

Epilogue.

Eight months later, you and Satan marry. Dr. Faust officiates. Together, you have three children, all of whom refuse to acknowledge their fathers' objective existence.

#ask response #obey me #obey me satan #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #satan #diavolo #lucifer #mc #satanist mc #this is my oc omen levey (do not steal)#crack #fanfic #clown anon #satan x satanist mc #what am i doing with my life #clown anon's mcs are the best mcs #fmk clowncore mc science geek mc satanist mc go #f satanist m science geek k clowncore personally

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eiightysixbaby · 1 year

Text

make a good girl bad

‘my love, did i mistake you for a sign from god?’

word count: 4.3k

pairing: eddie munson x chrissy cunningham

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. smut smut smut smut!!! chrissy’s family is described as being religious - chrissy rejects/slanders this. if this makes you uncomfy please do not read! mention of chrissy having strict parents, unprotected piv, creampie, oral (m receiving), praise and slight degradation, borderline corruption kink? if you squint? chrissy’s not a virgin but eddie definitely rocks her world. brief mentions of drugs (weed).

summary: chrissy’s sick and tired of being hawkins’ resident good girl now that she’s over a year out of high school. when she sneaks her way out of sunday mass with her family, she finds herself claiming a whole new religion: eddie munson.

a/n: aah okay i switched it up from the eddie x reader content for a minute and am feeding my hellcheer heart! needed some nastiness between these two. i absolutely adored writing for them and i’m so happy with this! this fic was loosely inspired by the song ‘the summoning’ by sleep token (listen here) as well as ‘snake charmer’ by blink-182 (listen here)

“You’re running a horrible temperature, dear. I guess you’ll have to stay home from church this morning” Chrissy’s mother tsked, setting the thermometer on the bedside table.

Chrissy’s little ruse had worked, and she gets to skip Sunday mass. Which never, and I mean never, happens. Her mother looks disapprovingly at her before speaking “Well, you’ll have to make up for this next week - perhaps we’ll attend Saturday and Sunday mass. We’ll be back later this afternoon,” and with that she leaves the room, shutting Chrissy’s door behind her.

Chrissy smiles to herself after the door is shut, silently celebrating her small victory.

She doesn’t like lying to her parents, she really doesn’t. But she’s just had enough. The thing is, Chrissy is sick of the life she’s living. She doesn’t want to go to church with her parents every weekend- she doesn’t give a shit about any of it. She’s sick of being a good Christian girl, a golden child, ‘perfect little Christine’. Chrissy turned 20 at the end of June, she finally feels like an adult, and the wild temptation buzzing in the warm summer air has her going stir-crazy. She wants nothing more than to escape her white-picket-fence suburban oasis, sick of being trapped in the prim and proper bubble her mother holds her captive in. In all honesty, Chrissy really can’t be mad at anyone but herself. She could’ve gone away to college, could’ve left Loch Nora in the dust, but instead she chose to stay at home (she leads a cheer camp for the high school in the summer and is a co-coach for the squad during the school year). And she loves what she does, really. But she’s so damn sick of her parents strict rules and playing the role of the good girl all the time.

Chrissy wants to be bad. She wants to get drunk and smoke weed (well, she already does that but.. she wants to do it freely, without a care in the world). She wants to wear tight skimpy clothing, and dance to raunchy music. And most of all, Chrissy wants to have sex. Lots and lots of good sex. See, her ex-boyfriend Jason never cared much about her pleasure while they were together, always making sure he got off and then… they’d be done. Nothing good for her. She genuinely deserves to win an award for Best Supporting Actress for her performed enthusiasm in bed with him. Anyway, Chrissy wants to get fucked, hard. And she thinks she knows just the guy to go to.

She’s been scheming and plotting and planning the downfall of her parents’ golden girl and her entrance into general badassery for a couple months now. And it starts with Eddie Munson (hopefully) ((most likely)). Eddie has a reputation for being the town freak, but he also has a reputation for being insanely fucking good in bed. Chrissy always eats up the gossip on Friday night hangouts with the girls, ‘I heard his dick is like, huge’ ‘He had some girl screaming in the bathroom at Lisa’s party last week..’. She first got to know Eddie for herself when she started buying weed off of him in secret, back in her senior year. She developed a crush on him quite quickly, but she suppressed it, never spoke to him outside of those private moments - what with Jason keeping her attached at his god damn hip to parade around like a show dog. It was nearly impossible to escape his grasp. But now that she’s single, she’s been dipping her toes further in the water with Eddie. Getting a better taste of what he’s like. Talking with him longer when she goes to buy from him, lightly touching him on the arm, dropping more and more subtle flirtations, which he always reciprocates. And god, he’s extremely alluring. He’s sweet as pie, adorably goofy, and always treats her like a queen when they meet. He always has, even when she was too wrapped up in Jason to be a better person to him. But honestly, the moment she first spoke to him she knew she needed to have more.

As soon as her family leaves the house, Chrissy leaps out of bed. She slips out of her pajamas and puts on a short little sundress, one that she never wears around her mother, and turns in the mirror to get a glimpse of herself. The dress stops just below her ass, and it hugs her gently in all the right places. She puts her hair in its typical ponytail, and spreads a dusting of coral colored eyeshadow on her eyelids, finishing the look with mascara. When she deems herself ready, she grabs her car keys and heads out the door. Her palms are sweating as she grips the steering wheel, but nevertheless she backs out of her driveway and exits her neighborhood. Her family usually goes into town after church - and today there’s a bake sale at the library - so she knows she has a good few hours to make her own. She hums along to Heart on the radio as she drives, the breeze blowing her bangs off of her forehead. She pulls into the trailer park, spotting Eddie’s van gleaming at her from the back of the park. She pulls up to his address and quickly applies a thin layer of shiny gloss to her lips, puckering them at herself in the mirror, before exiting the vehicle. She almost feels guilty for coming over unexpected but.. he did tell her to stop by any time she needed anything. And right now, well.. she needs something. She needs him.

She steps away from her car, knocks on the door… tugs nervously at her strawberry blonde ponytail. She hears footsteps inside, shuffling around heavily. The door swings open and there stands Eddie, clad in a tattered Judas Priest t-shirt and a pair of plaid flannel pajama pants, curly hair mussed slightly. She feels her mouth water at the sight of him, like Pavlov’s goddamn dog drooling at the sound of a bell. The thoughts racing through her mind right now would have her mother calling for an exorcism if she could hear them.

“Cunningham, hey…” he starts, fidgeting with the silver rings on his fingers. “Did you, uh.. did you need something? Run through that weed already?” He asks, smiling lightly at her.

“No, no I’ve still got plenty left,” Chrissy responds, and her voice feels small. “I’m here for a different reason, actually? I’m here for you.”

Eddie, very clearly confused, opens and closes his mouth, but no words come out.

“I, um, need a favor from you, Eddie.” She’s shifting on her feet, nervous to say what’s on her mind.

“Well, shit, Cunningham, anything for you,” Eddie gives her a toothy smile.

“I- I need you to fuck me, Eddie. I want to have sex with you,” Chrissy blurts, and she swears she’s never been this bold in her life. Her cheeks heat up as she looks up at him. “I was supposed to go to church with my family this morning but I faked sick… got out of it… and, um, I figured it was the perfect time to ask you.” she’s more nervous now, suddenly feeling like a bug under a microscope, like maybe this is stupid. Maybe she should just go back home.

Eddie genuinely, honestly, is convinced he died in his sleep or something and this is some sick joke his mind is playing on him. Chrissy’s huge blue eyes are staring right through him and he feels like a pile of goo. He’s liked Chrissy since before she ever started buying from him. Admired her from afar, wondered why she stayed with Asshole Jock of the Century Jason Carver, when she clearly deserved so much better. He never thought he stood a chance though, and it really wasn’t his place to ask questions. Chrissy shifts on her feet, and the sound of sneakers on gravel brings Eddie back down to earth.

“E-Eddie?” She squeaks out, and he realizes he must be standing there like an absolute doofus, drooling over her like she’s a piece of cake.

“I- you- I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be rude, but you snuck your way out of church, came here on a Sunday morning to… have sex… with me?” Eddie manages to get out, his cheeks turning pink.

“I’m not missing much, I don’t believe in any of that crap anyway,” Chrissy starts. “And I’m just- I’m so… tired of being ‘Chris the Priss’. I- I need you, Eddie.”

And who is Eddie to deny a woman what she needs? He opens the door wider and motions for her to come inside. She obliges, and stands facing Eddie in the living room of his trailer.

“Can I ask why you chose me, Cunningham? Why you want to sleep with me of all people? I mean, what about Carver? I know you guys broke up but, it’d probably be easy to get him back in bed” Eddie laughs a little, raising an eyebrow at the girl.

“Jason is the last person I want to sleep with, honestly,” Chrissy counters. “He- he’s never once made me cum, everything’s all about him,” she rolls her eyes. “I know you have a reputation, Eddie. The girls are always talking about you,” she’s looking up at him shyly through her lashes as she speaks.

Eddie ponders this, tilting his head at her. The hookups Eddie’s had are really just something to keep him occupied. He’s not a shitty guy, really, only ever getting in bed with girls who are fully on board with a ‘one night only’ kind of thing. But if Eddie’s truthful, a lot of the stories about him are rumors. Some are true, of course, he’s not gonna sugarcoat it. But some things get exaggerated as words go down the telephone line, like, he doesn’t have a ten-inch cock, and his body count is definitely under twenty. All he knows right now is that he’s gonna give Chrissy everything she wants and then some, because it’s her. No one else matters as much as her.

“A reputation, huh?” he questions, braving a step closer to Chrissy. Chrissy feels like she’s floating. He’s close enough to feel his breath on her skin.

“You’re sure you want this?” He asks.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Please, Eddie. Tired of always being the good girl. Need to be bad for you,” Chrissy pleads, reaching out to twirl a lock of his hair around her fingers.

“Shit, sweetheart, you don’t have to say it twice,” and with that, Eddie is dragging the girl to his bedroom.

Chrissy barely lets him shut the door behind them before she’s on him, kissing him hard, desperate. Eddie’s hands make their way up to her hair, tugging it out of the yellow velvet scrunchie and running his hands through it. His tongue prods into her mouth, twirling around hers, kissing her like he’s starving. Chrissy groans softly into his mouth, she needs more. She’s tugging at the collar of his shirt, moving them both backwards before she falls back onto his bed. Her doe eyes are staring up at him, begging him to join her there.

“Christ, Chrissy, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Eddie breathes, pulling his shirt over his head before joining her on the mattress.

He helps her out of her dress, discarding it onto the floor hastily. Beneath it, she’s wearing a lacy light pink bra that cups her breasts in just the right way, and matching light pink underwear with a little white bow at the top. Eddie’s practically creaming his jeans at the sight, taking in all of her slender frame and trying to pin it to memory. It doesn’t take long before her mouth is on his again, kissing each other like it’s their last moment on earth. She’s palming Eddie through his pajama pants, reveling in the growing bulge she feels beneath her fingertips.

“Need- need these… to come off…” Chrissy pants through heated kisses, grabbing at the waistband of the soft flannel pants.

Eddie wastes no time in taking them off, and his boxers follow suit. Chrissy audibly gulps, he’s so much bigger than she expected. She’s heard the rumors about his size, yeah, but you never know how much of that is true. And while it might not be quite as massive as people say, it’s still a sight to behold. Her mind is racing, fleeting thoughts of every way she wants to have him spin in her head, making her dizzy.

“Eddie… please- wanna suck your cock,” she moans as he trails kisses down her neck.

Eddie’s heart is racing, he still doesn’t fully believe that he actually, really, has Chrissy Cunningham in his bed right now. Like, seriously. When do the camera crews come out and tell him this is all a big prank? A couple years of pining uselessly after this girl, writing songs about her (and feverishly denying that they’re about her to anyone that asks — fuck you, Gareth), reading into their flirty interactions a little too much. And now she’s here, practically naked, begging for his cock. Whatever good deed he did to deserve this, he’s thanking his past self for it.

He sprawls himself out on the bed for her, legs spread, cock resting lazily against his tummy. All Chrissy does is look at him and let out a pleased hum, and Eddie’s cock is twitching desperately as if on command. Like she’s some seductive snake charmer, controlling his body with her mind or some shit. Chrissy eases herself onto her knees on the carpeted floor, eyeing Eddie’s cock in front of her like it’s a meal and she hasn’t eaten in months. Eddie positions himself on the edge of the mattress, now mere inches away from her face. Chrissy’s grabbing for him, needy and eager, looking up at him with those big, ocean blue eyes of hers.

Her dainty hands grasp his cock, and a moan escapes him without warning. Before he can catch up with what’s happening, she’s wrapping her pretty pink lips around his swollen, leaking head. She teases him at first, only sucking on the tip, really making a show of it all. The shiny gloss on her lips starts to smudge off, coating his dick in a glittery shimmer, and it only makes him harder. She releases his head with a ‘pop’, gazing innocently up at him, and Eddie thinks she might be a real life angel.

“Mmmh, Eddie, you taste so good…” she’s giggling, one hand still wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing lightly, batting her eyelashes as if she doesn’t realize the effect she has on him.

“Fuck, baby. Please keep going, need to feel more of that pretty mouth around me,” Eddie’s gently fisting her hair, urging her back onto his cock.

She obliges immediately, this time taking more of him into her mouth. Eddie gasps, the warm wetness of her tongue sending zaps of electricity to every nerve ending on his body. And, fuck, she sucks his cock so well. Bobbing her head back and forth expertly, fitting as much of him into her mouth as possible (which isn’t all that much, but what she can’t fit in her mouth she makes up for with her hand). Honestly, Eddie finds it ten times hotter that he’s so big she can’t fit all of him. The slick feeling of her mouth around his cock is driving Eddie crazy, and he watches her as saliva starts to drip past her lips, leaking down the rest of his shaft and onto her hands.

“So pretty when you get all messy for me, sweet girl. D’you like having your mouth full?” Eddie coos, cupping her cheek with one hand and rubbing his thumb across the soft skin.

Chrissy melts into his touch and nods eagerly, humming an agreement around him. She loves the feeling of him in her mouth, and every moan and noise of appraisal he gives her gets her wetter and wetter for him. Her tongue licks a stripe up the underside of his length and it sends him reeling, one hand gripping the sheets beneath him. She focuses her mouth’s attention on his balls, sucking them into her mouth while she pumps his cock with her hand. And, fuck, Eddie’s so glad he’s sitting down right now because his knees would’ve given out if he were standing.

“Ffffuck, Chrissy, feels so good,” Eddie moans, and he can feel himself reaching his release.

But he can’t cum yet, not before he gives her what she really wants. He taps her on the shoulder and coaxes her up onto the bed with him.

“C’mere, baby,” Eddie’s voice is smooth as honey, “-as much as I’d love to cum all over that pretty face, I need to fuck you dumb right now.”

Chrissy feels her heart rate increase as she wipes the spit from her mouth, nodding incessantly. She straddles his lap, grinding herself down onto him, riling him up further. Eddie groans softly, grabbing her hips and slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of her panties.

“Take these off for me, sweetheart, need to fill you up,” he murmurs, and his eyes are trained intently on her as she slips the pink cotton fabric off.

She positions herself perfectly above his cock once more, and Eddie guides her slowly down onto him. She gasps at the intrusion, the stretch to fit him. She’s never had anything close to this size inside of her, her fingers pale in comparison, and her insides burn in all the right ways.

“Mmmph- fuck, Eddie. S-so big, fuck,” she whines, screwing her eyes shut as he slowly pushes further and further in to her velvety walls.

“I know, baby, I know. But you can take all of me, can’t you? Gonna let me stuff you full of my cock?” he’s watching her every movement in awe as he speaks to her, going slowslowslow so as not to hurt her too much.

“Yes, need to take all of you. G’na take all of you,” Chrissy replies breathlessly, “Fill me up, Eddie, all the way. Need it so bad, please,” she begs, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Eddie complies to her request, bottoming out in her tight, dripping cunt. He throws his head back against the pillow with a low groan, and he feels her clenching around him as she adjusts.

“You feel so good around my dick baby, so fucking tight,” Eddie’s praise has her whimpering on top of him, and she starts to rock her hips slowly.

“N-need more, Eddie, more,” she whines, trying desperately to get him to move.

“Yeah? Y’want me to fuck you silly, Chris?” Eddie taunts her, and her cheeks flush red.

“Yes, ohmygod, need you to fuck me so hard.”

And Eddie doesn’t need more convincing. He thrusts up into her, his pace relentless from the get-go. Chrissy’s whimpering and moaning and squealing on top of him, bouncing slightly to meet his thrusts, and Eddie loves the way his balls slap against her skin as their bodies meet. Filthy sounds leave Chrissy’s pouting lips as she rides him, the tip of his cock hitting just the right spot inside of her, heat pooling in her belly.

“What would your parents think if they could see you right now, hm? Split open on my cock, being such a slut f’me, when you should be in church,” Eddie tsks, his thrusts picking up speed “You’ll be repenting for your sins after this, sweetheart,” he’s all but growling at her, his voice low and thick, and it sends electricity right to her dripping core.

None of this should be as hot as it is, but Chrissy grows more and more turned on with every reminder of what she should be doing right now… and what she’s actually doing instead. And fuck, she’ll repent for her sins forever if it means she can keep having Eddie like this. If the Chrissy from a couple years ago could see her now, she’d be covering her ears, shielding her innocent eyes. But current Chrissy wants nothing more than to let go around Eddie’s fat cock, wants him to fill her up with all of his cum as she milks him dry.

“You gonna cum around my dick, baby? Gonna let me feel you cum?” Eddie’s encouraging her, and she feels the coil in her belly grow tighter and tighter as she chases her release.

“Yeah, Eddie, wanna cum for you. F-feel so good,” she keeps bouncing on him, moving herself as quickly as she can to get where she so desperately needs to be.

Eddie rubs his thumb over her clit, moving in quick circles, making her yelp at the sudden friction.

“Oh! Fuck, Eddie! Eddieeddieeddie,” his name spills from her mouth over and over like a prayer, like he’s her salvation, like she’s never needed anything quite as much as she needs him.

“I’m right here, sweet girl, c’mon. Let go for me,” Eddie’s words are enough to push her over the edge entirely, finally letting herself free fall into bliss.

Her walls flutter around him, clenching and releasing over and over and over as her body slumps down into him, her face buried in his neck. Chrissy’s never felt anything like this before, never got anywhere close with Jason, never hit quite the right spot when she’s played with herself. She feels sexy, she feels free, she feels raunchy and nasty and dirty as she soaks Eddie’s throbbing cock. She feels like a new version of herself.

Eddie continues to buck up into her, chasing his own high, grunting in concentration beneath her heaving body. She kisses his neck, licks and nips at his ear, whispering praises to him.

“Come on, handsome, need you to fill me up. Need to feel you cum in my pussy, Eddie, want it so bad,” she urges, snaking slender fingers up and down the sides of his body.

“Fuuuuuuck, y’sure you want it inside?” Eddie pants, so so close to release.

“Yes, god, yes. Make me yours Eddie, please,” and she doesn’t quite know why she said it like that, where it came from, make her his. But it’s all Eddie needed to finally snap.

Thick, gooey ropes of cum coat Chrissy’s insides, and she groans as she feels his cock twitching slightly against her sensitive walls. She rocks her hips gently back and forth a few times, getting every last drop out of him before giving up. When he’s finally spent, he pulls her body down onto his, pressing their chests together. He kisses the top of her head, big hands splayed across her back as her breathing finally starts to slow.

“How was that, sweetheart? Everything you needed?” Eddie smirks at her, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. “Better than singing hymns at church with a bunch of old farts?”

Chrissy snorts at this. “Yeah, Eddie. Everything and more. Definitely better than church,” she hums, satisfied, big blue eyes searching his brown ones. “Thank you. For that, you didn’t hav-”

“Cunningham, don’t you dare say I didn’t have to do that,” Eddie presses a finger to her lips, shushing her. “How on earth could I say no to a perfect girl like you?”

Chrissy’s cheeks flush at this, and she buries her face in his neck, suddenly embarrassed despite the fact that he just fucked her into oblivion.

“Chris?” Eddie asks, petting her hair gently.

“Hm?”

There’s a pause. Eddie swallows. Chrissy’s heart beats faster. Why is her heart beating faster?

“When you told me to make you mine… uh, what exactly did you mean by that?” he chews on his lip nervously, voice suddenly pitched higher.

Chrissy feels her mouth go dry. Shit, he caught that. “It- it just kind of slipped out, I’m sorry, I hope it didn’t make you uncomfortable,” she admits.

“No, no. God, Chrissy, no way. I just, uh, if you were serious…” the rest of the sentence catches in his throat, he’s unable to say what he wants when she’s looking at him the way she is. “I’d…. I would make you mine, if you wanted that,” he finally forces it out, eyes averting her gaze.

Chrissy beams, crooked teeth making her all the more endearing as she reaches up to squish his cheeks, turning his head so he’s looking at her.

“You mean you’d give up your Sex God lifestyle all for me?” she teases, making him blush.

“I’m willing to reel in my charm and be a ‘Sex God’ for you and you only,” he jokes back, and she rolls her eyes. “But you’re gonna have to start coming to Sunday school, right here in my bed, so I can teach you some lessons,” he says, tone extremely serious but his smirk gives him away.

Chrissy laughs, throwing her head back a little.

“I’d like that Eddie. I’d really like to be yours,” her voice is soft as powdered sugar, honey blonde hair falling in his face as she presses her lips to his.

“Consider it a sealed deal then, sweetheart. Chrissy Cunningham, cheer queen, good girl gone bad, Sex Goddess, is my girl,” Eddie boasts.

Chrissy swears there’s hearts in her eyes as she looks at him. She’s positive she can’t live without him, wondering how she ever did before today, clinging to him like a savior. Like he was the missing piece to her puzzle, and now she can finally be who she wants to be.

Chrissy doesn’t go to church anymore after that. Instead, she spends her Sundays wrapped in sensual bliss with none other than Eddie Munson.

#eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer #hellcheer smut #eddie x chrissy smut #hellcheer oneshot #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x chrissy cunningham

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sebstan2020 · 8 months

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Red Ties

Chapter 9

Mary, a sweet Christian girl living in the city of Brooklyn as a nurse had a simple life. She loved her work, her friends and attending church every Sunday and helping Reverend McCarthy. Her life was nothing out of the ordinary. However, it all changed one day when she bumps into the intriguing and intimidating James Barnes, Brooklyn’s notorious mafia boss and is introduced to a world of guns, lust and dominance.

Warnings: BDSM, Dom/Sub, Mafia, Violence, Gang, SMUT, Sex, Possessive Bucky, Overprotectiveness, Bondage, Sexual Themes, Dark Themes, Guns, Drugs, Gang Violence

“So how was it?” Anya couldn’t wait to ask at work the next day. She had so many questions for Mary who was still trying to come to terms with everything herself. She couldn’t get James out of her head. There was something so mysterious and seductive about him that almost felt like a sin. He was dominant and handsome and confident, everything she wasn’t. She was shy, naturally pretty and submissive. She kept wondering why he would want to even bother with a girl like her. She didn’t want to judge him or assume that he only had one type, the classic blonde on long legs, breast implants, anything surgery that could be done to the face and big ass but a man as handsome as he was would surely look for a female version on himself. But that kiss said differently. Her lips tingled for hours after, the subtle scent of his cologne lingering on her and when she went to bed that night after praying double, she couldn’t help the thoughts of the sexy man leave her head.

“It was… good” she shrugged, not quite sure how to describe the date other than that she was a nervous wreck, they skipped the line at one of the busiest restaurants in the city and he paid for everything and at the end of the night they kissed until Mary’s brain was about to explode from the excitement and nerves brewing inside her.

“What, just good, come on I want details… did you kiss?” She wiggled her brows and Mary scoffed. She was trying to get her notes done but she knew she wouldn’t achieve anything until Anya was satisfied.

“What’s this?” Peter’s voice appeared in the conversation and Mary turned on her stool. Anya was sitting on a chair behind her, sitting backwards with her legs dangling, clearly not doing her work like she should be. Peter had just returned from x-raying a patient with his notes folded under his arm.

“Mary went on a date last night” Anya grinned before Mary could even answer for herself. Mary shot her a look and Peter nodded slowly.

“Oh really… who with?” He asked surprised.

“Her future husband” Anya giggled.

“He’s not my future husband” Mary shot back and Anya laughed. She was having too much fun teasing her.

“It was the guy I bumped into the other day, he asked to take me for dinner” Mary shrugged as if it was no big deal but it was. She hadn’t been on a date for however long it was and had kissed one guy in her whole life so to go on a date with the man she met by bumping into him was very much a big deal. Not to mention the unplanned kiss at the end and the fact she could barely contain herself when she got back to her apartment. She prayed twice hard that night.

“The guy who brought you the new phone?” Peter asked and she nodded.

“James” Anya taunted, rolling his name over her tongue and spinning on the chair. Mary glared at her.

“So go on tell us what happened” Anya urged and Mary sighed, turning herself around. She knew she wouldn’t get out of this.

“Well, he picked me up and he said he was taking me to his friend's restaurant. When we got there it was packed and there was a huge line but we just walked right in, we didn’t even have to wait” Mary remembered the way he just walked right in without even a look at the line or the doorman. It was as if he owned the place, even though he didn’t. James had a natural dominance, just a look from those piercing blue eyes and he’d get whatever he wanted.

“What the fuck are you serious” Anya squealed with excitement and Mary shot her a wide eye look.

“Shhh, you’re so loud” Mary couldn’t help but giggle at the end. Her friend was getting too excited.

“Tell me more” she was practically bouncing in her chair whilst Peter stood quietly, watching Mary.

“Then we had dinner. I was literally a nervous wreck. He ordered the most expensive champagne but I just had a lemonade”.

“You should have had some, loosen you up a bit… did he pay for dinner?” Anya asked.

“Yeah, he wouldn’t let me” She frowned slightly. It wasn’t a big deal but Mary hadn’t been on a date in forever so she wasn’t sure how these things worked.

“Good… the guy always pays on the first date and then after a couple of times seeing each other you can sneak in there” Anya advised. Mary was so grateful to have her as a friend, especially now. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have even gone on the date. Anya was like her dating guide, giving her all the tips and facts she needed. James was a powerful man, intimidating but kind, a pure gentleman. Mary always imagined herself with someone a little bit nerdy and shy like herself. James was her complete opposite, bold, dark and confident.

“Then he took me home” Mary left the conversation open and Anya raised her brows.

“Aaaaand?” She teased and Mary blushed.

“Ahhhhhh!” Anya squealed. She didn’t need to be told to know what happened.

“Stop it” Mary kicked her.

“How did he kiss you, did he touch your face, did you do tongues?” She wheeled herself closer and Mary furrowed her brows.

“Tongues… no way. We just kissed” She shrugged and Anya huffed.

“Details Mary” she demanded.

“Well he sort of cupped my cheek and pulled me closer to him and then we kissed… slowly”.

“Oh my god, I’m dying… I need some air” Anya calmed her breathing, the excitement of hearing her best friend kiss on her first date becoming too much and Mary rolled her eyes with a smile.

“I am sooo happy for you… I’m running late now but this conversation isn’t over” She pointed a hard finger at Mary before dashing off out of the nurses' office. Mary chuckled softly under her breath, turning back to her papers.

“Sounds like you had a good night then?” Peter said, finally speaking up. Mary had almost forgotten he was standing there. Mary smiled sweetly, spinning in her chair to face him.

“Yeah I did, he’s a nice person,” she said.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” He asked, pressing himself against the desk and Mary awkwardly played with her hands.

“Well I’m actually seeing him tonight, after work” she blushed again. She turned nervous just thinking about James.

“Oh cool… well I hope you have a good time… you still good for Saturday? He asked, perking up a little.

“Yeah I can’t wait, I’ll bring something over” she smiled.

“It’s a little messy at the minute but I’ll try and get it done for Saturday” he chuckled.

“Don’t worry about it, I can help if you want” she offered and Peter lit up like he saw a shooting star.

“Yeah that would be great thanks” he patted Mary on her shoulder, giving it a soft rub which Mary only passed off as a friendly caress.

Mary would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous to be seeing James later. Not because he made her nervous… well that was wrong, he did but that wasn’t the reason. After their heated surprise kiss, she wondered if he was going to do the same. She was new to this whole dating game and wasn’t sure when to make the right moves. This is where Anya came in. She knew everything about dating men but she and Mary were too very different people. Anya was outgoing crazy and spontaneous and Mary was… innocent.

James hadn’t texted her all day, perhaps because he was busy but Mary wasn’t too bothered. She was busy herself and when it got ten minutes until seven, the nerves were kicking in. Her cheeks were already heating up and Anya was nowhere to be found. She’d just have to brave it for now. Packing her stuff away, she slung her back across her shoulder and headed out.

“Hey Mar… wait up” Peter shouted from behind her, jogging over, his trainers catching the floor and squeaking.

“So what are you doing tonight then?” She asked as they headed to the entrance of the hospital together.

“Oh, just more apartment things. You wouldn’t believe how long it takes to unpack everything” he huffed.

“Well save some for me on Saturday… I like stuff like that” she smiled.

“I know… you’re weird” he joked and she flashed a look at him but giggled afterwards.

“Girls like that sort of thing… organising” she admitted.

“Well I’ll definitely leave it for you on Saturday” he smirked and Mary rolled her eyes playfully. They headed out into the warm heat of the New York evening and it didn’t take Mary long to notice James standing by his flashy car. Leaning casually against the hood, eyes deep in his phone, legs crossed over with power reeking off him. He was dressed in a tight-fitting suit of black, hair all messy and tucked behind his ears, and polished shoes and she could already smell that cologne of his. The one that was like some sweet drug to her.

“I’ll see you on Saturday then” Mary turned to Peter and he nodded before his eyes flashed over to James.

“Is that him?” He nodded and Mary nodded quietly.

“Wow… nice car” he commented. He wasn’t what he thought he was going to be. Peter never imagined Mary going for someone like him.

“Yeah… kinda makes mine look like a hunk of junk” she joked and Peter hummed. Finally, James lifted his head and a smile pressed against his lips as he spotted Mary, pushing himself off the car.

“Yours is fine Mar” he assured.

“See ya” She smiled sweetly and skipped down the steps of the hospital, taking what felt like the shortest walk over to James, her stomach tightening with excitement and nerves as she neared him. James grinned further, his eyes running up and down Mary as he took in her in her uniform, with her hair all messy in a bun. He’d seen her before in her scrubs but having properly met her now and the desire he had for her made it even better.

“Hi,” he said softly, his voice like butter and Mary grinned, her cheeks flushing.

“Hi,” James reached over and took her bag off her shoulder, popping open the back seat and chucking it in smoothly.

“How was your day?” He asked as he did, the sound of the door closing clicking with satisfaction. It was so fancy you wouldn’t expect it to make a loud clunk… unlike Mary’s car.

“Busy… how about you?” She asked, intertwining her fingers together in front of her now that she didn’t have her bag to hold and James chuckled.

“Busy as well” he was about to continue when a voice interrupted their conversation.

“See ya Mar” Peter waved as he walked past and Mary waved back. James frowned slightly, watching intently as he walked past and when he was out of sight, turned his attention back to Mary.

“Whose that?” He asked softly, opening the door for Mary.

“Oh that’s Peter, we work together… well we don’t work together just we met at the hospital and well I guess we kinda do work together” She became all flustered and her words muddled up with one another which made James grin.

“A friend then” he clarified and she nodded. She could have just said he was her friend… which was. She slipped into the seat and the door shut behind her. James strolled to the driver's side, unknown to Mary he was clenching his fists, his rings slightly digging into his hand and his jaw slightly tighter than usual. He released his grips as he slipped into the car, instantly relaxing around Mary and firing up the engine.

“Where are we going?” She asked, sitting perfectly in the seat, her hands in her lap like a schoolgirl would.

“My place” he smirked and pulled out into the streets of New York.

Chapter 10

Hey so I hope you like it, let me know what you think in the comments

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#sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanficiton #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #mafia bucky barnes #dom bucky barnes

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xojennyboo · 6 months

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A/N: Here’s a little something I wrote out of the blue. Thank you always for reading my stuff. Please like, comment, reblog, and send in suggestions! Happy reading.

Church can be the most beautiful and holiest place on earth, or it can be the most sinful place on earth. I’ve grown up in the church, both my parents being religious but unfortunately, with both of my parents being the priests of the town church, means more responsibilities for me. According to my mother, I have to be an "example" to the girls growing up with the church. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy doing my participation at the church. I enjoy planning weekly activities for the children. Although these are great things, the church doesn’t define me. I have fun with people who I’ve grown up with all of my life. We go out and party, some do drugs and drink. I think I can say that I have managed to balance the church life and my personal life.

For the past month, there has been talk about the Styles family coming back into town. I remember that they left after high school graduation, along with their son Harry. Harry was always getting into trouble, always skipping Sunday service and partying. Harry and I had our history. In school, he would always flirt with me. It was very surprising that he had the balls to flirt with the priests’ daughter. One thing led to another and soon we had created a beautiful relationship kept from the eyes of others. We had a secret hiding spot in the woods and that’s where I had lost my virginity to him.That was another bad thing on the list of being the priests’ daughter, only daughter. The boys in school were always afraid to talk to me or flirt with me. This caused me to be some sort of a loner, besides my best friend Alice. She has always been there for me and understood my bittersweet relationship with the church. Her parents are very close to my parents, kind of like best friends you can say. Alice and I grew up together and went to school together. She’s basically the sister I never had. Now we’re both 26 and dedicate most of our time to the church.

Today is Sunday, which means an early morning and an overall busy day. I got up and took a shower, getting up at 6:30am in order to take my time to get ready. For my outfit I decided on wearing a black skirt that went down a little below my knees and flowed nicely. The skirt had a flower pattern all around it, the flowers a beige color. I decided on wearing a long sleeve beige shirt to compliment the flowers on the skirt. After I finished doing my hair and makeup, I look at the time, 9 am. Church doesn’t start for another hour, but you still had to get ready for today’s service. I put on my beige heels and made my way towards the kitchen. I was expecting to see my parents down here, but they probably already made their way to the church. Weird. I grabbed my purse and went to my car. The church was only a 10-minute drive from our house. Once I arrived at church, I saw two cars in the lot, one being my parent’s. The other I did not recognize. I parked my car and made my way into the church. The church is huge, beautiful in every square inch. My favorite part was the stained glass adorning the building. I made my way down the aisle, seeing my mom and dad talking to a couple and a third gentleman. As I got closer to them, my heels making an echo sound as I walked, I recognized the couple. I stopped in my tracks as everyone stopped their conversation and looked at me. The Styles family.

“Good morning sweetheart. Sorry that we didn’t wake you, we had special guests to attend and welcome back”, my mother said motioning back to the familiar family in front of me. Harry’s mother spoke first. "Y/n look at you so grown up! Gosh you look more and more like your mother each day!”, she says pulling me into a hug. I hugged her back, glad that the rumors were true. Mr. Styles also greets me and pulls me into hug. “And you remember our son Harry, right?”, he asks. “'Yeah, I do”, I say giving Harry a wave instead of a hug. I couldn’t’t help but feel my heart rate speed up as I look at him. He looked completely different but the similar at the same time. He literally took my breath away at how handsome he got. He was taller than I remember, he had built muscles, grew facial hair, and his curly hair wasn’t as curly as before, more like a natural wave to it. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him as they all mingled with one another. Thankfully he was paying more attention to my parents than at me. You slowly walked away and made your way to the back of the church and into your office. You loved the fact that you didn’t have to share one with your parents. You placed your bag on your desk and turned your computer on looking through the schedule for the day. You really didn’t have a lot planned for yourself just a little coloring activity with the kids.

Since the kids who attended the church were majority minors, your job was to keep them busy and entertained while the parents listened to the sermon. Sometimes Alice would help you with the kids but unfortunately, she is out of town with her parents this week. There was a slight knock on the door interrupting your train of thoughts. “Come in’, you say, and the door opens revealing Harry on the other side. “hey”, he says, coming in and closing the door behind him. Act normal y/n you cannot react to him. “Hey”, you say back giving him a smile.”I apologize for not saying anything earlier, I didn’t know what to say considering all the time that has gone by,”he says. “It’s alright. I felt the same way,” you say to him, silence overtaking the room. “You look great y/n “, he says. You smiled shyly, your cheeks turning pink at his compliment. “Thank you. You look great as well Harry”, you say, turning your attention back to the computer screen that was in front of you. “I see you still react the same way towards me y/n” he says, his voice lower causing your legs to squeeze together. You heard him chuckle beneath his breath before making his way towards you standing right behind you. “What are you working on”, he asks looking at the computer screen. “My schedule", you whispered, not liking the effect that he continues to have on you after all these years. "Coloring with the kids?” he says. I just nod not trusting my voice at the moment. “Mind if I help?” he asks you. “You’re attending todays service?" you turn around in your chair facing him, closer than what you would like. He gives you a smirk right before placing both of his hands on either side of your chair and leaning down closer to your face. He’s now face to face with you, eyes looking into yours and then down to your lips. Your chest rising and falling at a quicker pace than you would like, your breathing picking up at the close proximity.

“Hmmm?” he hums as he closes his eyes and inhales, taking in the aroma of your floral perfume. He smirks before opening his eyes. “Y-yes”, you whisper to him. He smiles, looking at your lips one last time, before pulling away completely and making his way to the other side of your desk. As if on cue, the door to your office opens, your parents coming in. “Honey, service will begin soon. Ready to take the kids to the other room?”, my father asks. “Yeah, actually Harry is going to help me today since Alice isn’t here", I say to my father. "Perfect. Make sure you make Harry feel welcomed especially since his family will be part of the church.”he says. “Of course, don’t worry about it”. I say smiling and getting up from my desk. I adjust my skirt and start making my way to the alter. Harry is right behind me, his footsteps echoing along with my heels. “All you have to do is greet the parents as they come to the front and take the kids, forming a line next to you”. I say to Harry who is listening attentively to my instructions. That’s exactly what we did. Soon we had two lines of children, a total of 20 kids. We made our way to the back of the church and into the cafeteria area since it was the only room in the church that can fit these many kids. “Good morning kids! How’s everyone doing today?" I say to the kids. The kids all together say good morning to me. “We have A special guest today who will be helping me with you little angels. Please welcome Harry Styles “, I say to the kids. Harry says hi to them waving. An explosion of greetings filled the room causing Harry to smile. “We're going to take it easy today. We’re going to start by coloring in your workbooks and then make our way to eating some snacks. Sounds okay?”. I ask the children. They say yes and I tell Harry to help me hand out the workbooks to each child along with the crayons. Once the children are talking and occupying themselves, me and Harry sit towards the back of the cafeteria, allowing the kids to have their space.

“You’re great with them. It looks like they truly trust and love you”, Harry says fiddling with the thick rings adorning his fingers. His demeanors different than what it was in the office. “I love keeping them company. I’ve seen many children grow up in front of my eyes. I want them to feel safe around me. I want them to trust me with whatever they may need. Especially when it comes to them wanting to talk to someone", you say, watching the kids color in their books. “How long have you been doing this for?”, he asks. “For about 5 years now. I enjoy it really. Gives me a small hope that I may have some positive impact on these kids.” I stayed quiet for a bit until I start laughing at some of the kids who start arguing. These kids were good kids and they always had small banter here and there, but nothing ever too serious. Once an hour had passed it was time for snack time handing out the snacks to the kids. Once they ate their snacks, Harry and I took them to the playground that was at the back of the church outside. It’s a beautiful day out today. I watch the kids interact with one another as I make my way to the swings. Harry just follows. I sit on the swing and soon I feel Harry behind me, my hands on each of the chains besides me. I feel the swing move as Harry slightly pushes me. “Harry, what are you trying to do?”, I ask him, stopping the movements of the swing. He sighs, not saying anything as he sits next to me on the empty swing. I roll my eyes, frustrated by his lack of words, before getting up and strolling along the playground watching that the kids were being careful. After half an hour not saying anything to one another, we gathered the kids to go back inside. The sermon should he over by now. We both take the kids back to the main room, taking each kid to their parents.

Everyone leaves, giving me the chance to escape. I grabbed my belongings and made my way to the car, driving to the nearby coffee shop. I haven’t eaten breakfast, and I was starving. I ordered a muffin and a white chocolate mocha latte. I loved coming to this café, since it always gave me a feeling that I was at home. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened today in your office. The feeling he gave you felt exactly like how it was in high school. It infuriated me that he was still able to make you feel that way. I had a crush on him back then, but I always thought that it was because he was the only one giving me attention. What game is he trying to play? Why did you feel the way you did? Why did you want his lips to press to yours? I finished my breakfast and made my way back home. My mom and dad weren’t there yet assuming that they were still at the church. I went to my room and started planning next week's schedule. After, I did my bible study since I didn’t attend the sermon. Once I was finished, I looked at the clock to see that it was already dinner time. Your parents still weren’t home. You texted your mother asking where they were. According to her, they were spending time with the Styles and were going to have dinner. Great, another lonely night. I got off my bed and made my way to the living room, turning on the TV to watch Netflix.

I was halfway done with the episode when the doorbell rang. Who could it be at this hour? I opened the door to see Harry standing there with a box of pizza in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “Care to have dinner with an old friend?" he asks. “Depends, are you planning on acting childish and continue not to talk to me?”, I ask. “I won’t be children, I promise", he says. I open the door and allow him to come in. “Looks exactly the same since the last time I saw it “, he states looking around the house. “Yeah, nothings really changed", I say, taking out plates for us to eat. He opens the box of pizza, and he gives me a slice before placing one on his plate. He then opens up the bottle of wine and pours some in the glasses that he pulled out from the cabinets. We eat in silence for a bit, my favorite show playing in the background. “Feels like old times yeah?” he says. I just nod my head, my mouth full of pizza. Once we were done eating, we made our way to the living room and watched TV. It was nice but I still couldn’t stop thinking about our encounter in my office. “I apologize for my behavior earlier today. I was out of line. I just... Seeing you again bought so many memories from how we were before I left”, he says, looking straight at the TV. “I don’t even know if you have a boyfriend or not and I just acted on impulse,” he says. “No boyfriend that you have to worry about”, I tell him. The mood in the room slowly takes a huge turn after my confession. It’s the same feeling like in the office. There was built up tension. We continue to stay silent, but this time it was a comfortable silence.

Harry stayed with me until my parents came home. It was very nice to catch up with him after all of these years. He attended university and graduated with a degree in English. Most of the time he dedicated time to his family and tried to change for them and for himself. He mentioned that he had gotten into trouble after moving which made him want to change. He said that he turned to church for guidance but that he wasn’t super religious like our parents. He was glad to be back in his hometown. I was super happy for him. The next couple of months were a blur with the holidays coming up. Me and Harry became super close, as friends, and we were having the best time planning holiday activities for the kids. Everything was running smoothly. I was currently in my office putting our plans in my calendar in my computer. “Hey y/n, the shipment for the holiday decorations is here. Where do you want me to put them?”, Harry asked carrying two big boxes in his arms. "Cafeteria please”, I instruct. Soon he came back into my office. Today, it was just us two in here, both of our parents going out to dinner. “So, what do you have planned for the evening?", he asks me as he sits in front of my desk. “I’m not sure. Probably just grab some takeout and go home. What about you?” I ask him, focusing my attention on him now. “Have dinner with me tonight", he says to me catching me completely off guard. “Once you’re finished, we can go. Just let me know”, he gets up from the chair and leaved my office. Why does he always do that?! He always says some demanding or cheeky comment, leaving me speechless and flustered. I take deep breaths and gather my thoughts and emotions before grabbing my belongings and exiting the door. I walk towards the alter where I see Harry knelt down finishing his prayer. I don’t know why but seeing him do that does something to me. Makes me think about very sinful thoughts here at church! I cleared my throat once he was done praying, his attention now focused on me. “Ready to go?”, he asks me. “Yes”, I say. “Alright let’s go”, he grabs my hand causing a spark run throughout my whole body. We walk hand in hand out of the church and into his car. “Where are we going?”, I ask looking out the window at the scenery. “You’ll see when we get there”, he says. The rest of the car ride was silent. Soon, I started recognizing the scenery in front of me. Are we headed to where I think we’re headed?

I start noticing the familiar trail leading to the woods, coming closer to the cabin. Our cabin from years ago. When we were in high school, Harry and I would come here after school almost every day. There, he would he completely different than how he acted around school. He was the bad boy in high school, but here, he would act like he has been acting now. Vulnerable. My heart rate started to increase as I saw the cabin fixed up, nothing to how it looked years ago. Harry parked the car and came around to open the car door for me. I was too stunned to speak. All I did was walk around the cabin, inspecting it to make sure it was the same one. “It didn’t look like this before”, I say walking back towards him, a smile plastered on his face. “Do you like it?”, he asks. “I love it, did you fix it?”, I ask him in disbelief, his answer just a small nod. “When did you do this? How?”, I had so many questions. “This is the first thing I wanted to do when I came back. This was our happy place when we were younger. When I visited it the first morning here, I was devastated when I saw that it was going into ruin. So, I looked for people who could do the work and we fixed it up. Although I did add extra things that weren’t there before”. He explains. He walks to the front door and motions for me to go in and I do just that. Inside, there was a small kitchen area, dining area, and a bed by the window. It wasn’t a huge cabin, but it was spacious. “I can’t believe you did all of this”, I tell him looking around. “Maybe we can continue to use it again like we did before. Create our happy place again”, he says coming closer to me. We're standing face to face now, his hands on my waist. “Do you remember the night we spent here?”, he asks me. How could I forget. I lost my virginity to him here. I was scared that night. I had told my parents that I was staying over at Alice’s house but instead me and Harry met up here. He had gotten us takeout, and we talked for hours and before you know it, one thing led to another, and we slept together. Although we were young, I knew that I wanted him to take it.

“When I left, I feared you would forget everything we did. That you would be mad at me for leaving and would regret everything", he confessed. “I would never regret what we did Harry. I understood why you needed to leave. What truly hurt more was the fact that you didn’t attempt to contact me at all”, I say, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. “I know Y/N, but I needed to get my, shit together. I needed to change for you”, he says to me. “Why for me?”, I ask, the tears falling from my my eyes and down my face. “You know why”, he says before leaning down and attaching his lips to mine. His hands are holding my face, his fingers wiping away my tears as his lips are dancing with mine. Without breaking our kiss, he grabs my purse and places it on the table by us. His hands are placed on my back, pulling me closer to him. My hands are around his neck playing with his chocolate curls. Memories from that night replaying in my head as the kiss intensifies. Harry walks backwards as he sits on the bed, bringing me with him as I straddle his waist. He positions himself leaning against the wall by the window. He breaks the kiss and reaches towards the switch by his head. I scrunch my eyebrows in confusing. He flicks the light switch and soon the cabin is lit up by small fairy lights. I gasp as I look outside noticing that the trees surrounding the cabin are also lit up all around in white lights. "Harry!", I say in excitement. All he does is let out a chuckle as he brings his lips against mine again. This time the kiss is more intense. We're pulling each other closer, our want for one another consuming us. “Do you trust me?”, he says against my lips.” Always”, I answer against his lips. He removed my cardigan slowly, my arms exposed. He kisses up my arm and removes my shirt. He admired my breasts as he starts placing kisses on my neck and chest. I grab the hem of his shirt and removed it exposing his upper body that is now filled with many tattoos. I gasp, my hands reaching down to the butterfly tattoo on his abdomen. “Do you like them?” he asks looking at my movements and reaction intensely. “Yeah”, I whispered to him, placing small kisses on his exposed chest. He smirks and pushes me down to the mattress, positioning himself on top of me, continuing his assault on my neck and chest. “You don’t even want to know the many nights that I have thought about having you like this”, he whispers in my ear, my fingers exploring his bare back. His fingers make their way to my back and unclasps my bra, revealing my breasts. He lets out a small groan admiring my naked upper body before taking one of my nipples into his mouth. My body instantly reacts to every move he makes, his soft lips around my nipple causing a whine to come out of my lips. His hand reaches over to my skirt lifting it up before he places his fingers on my closed pussy. I moan as his fingers start rubbing small circles on my clit. His fingers moving up and down my slit his fingers circling around my wet hole, causing my back to arch. His tongue flicking my nipple at same pace as his fingers rub me.

I couldn’t help but moan his name at the pleasure he was giving me. He removes his mouth from my nipple, before taking his fingers into his mouth, tasting my wetness. He lets out a low moan causing you to let out a small moan as well. "Delicious", he says as he unzips your skirt and removed it, taking your panties off as well. Without being told, he removes the rest of his clothing as well. My eyes are now distracted on his penis, his size definitely bigger than before. You heard Harry chuckle as he placed his head between your legs. “Enjoying the view?”, he asks. Before I could answer Harry attaches his mouth onto your wet pussy, my back arching at the feeling of his tongue flicking on your clit at a fast pace. He changed from flicking to sucking on your clit, your body always giving him the reaction that he wanted. The noice of his mouth devouring you filled the cabin walls, your moans coming out in soft whimpers. Your hips soon started moving against his lips, Harry moving his head in the same direction as your hips, allowing you to ride his face this way. You felt your orgasm approaching, your small whimpers becoming needy moans for release. Harry wrapped his arms under your pelvis and held your hips down as his tongue licked you completely. His tongue gathering your wetness to cover his tongue. Before you know it, you were moaning Harry's name repeatedly as your legs trembled around his head, your orgasm taking over your body as Harry continued to lick you clean.

Once you relaxed from your orgasm, Harry positioned himself at your entrance.”before I do this, I have to ask a question,” he says. You motioned for him to continue." Have you slept with anyone else? Don’t get offended, I just want to know so I know how I can be with you.”, his question catching you off guard. It wasn’t the fact that you didn’t want to sleep with someone else. You just didn’t like the idea of sleeping with random people. The boys in school were too scared to talk to you and if they did, they didn’t make you comfortable. “No”, you shyly respond. “You’re kidding right?”, he asks making his reaction towards your answer nerve-racking. “no one else has touched you besides me?”, he asks in disbelief. You simply nodded. “Jesus Christ woman. You’re driving me crazy. This might hurt a bit then”, he warns you before slowly entering you. The intrusion causing a stinging sensation for a few. Both of you moaned against each other's lips as Harry held still enjoying the light grip your pussy had on his dick. Once the stinging sensation disappeared, you told Harry to move. He slowly thrusted out and then in, your eyes rolling back at the pleasure you were receiving. Your nails dug onto his back as his thrusts started to pick up at a faster pace. His hands were wrapped around your thighs, his head in the crook of your neck as his thrust were getting deeper into you. The noise of slapping skin mixed with both of your moans caused you to feel wanted and worshipped. Harry’s moans against your ear caused tingles around your body, your second orgasm soon approaching. The bed squeaked to the movements of Harry’s thrusts. His thrusts were so deep that you thought you can feel him in your stomach. “Oh my God you feel amazing my love”, he pants against your skin. His words causing you to pant louder, your moans coming out as your orgasm was starting to take over your body. “That’s it baby, come for me,” he moans out as he attaches his lips to yours, feeling his sweaty skin against yours. Both of your moans spilled out against each other’s lips as your orgasms overtook your bodies. His hands held yours tightly as he rode out both of your highs. At this point both of you were breathing heavily as you tried to calm down. This was definitely more intense than the last time. You felt Harry's weight on you as he slid out of you. Thank goodness for birth control. You wrapped your arms around him, your fingers playing with his hair.

In this very moment you were the happiest you’ve ever been. You didn’t want this moment to end, and you wanted to stay here with Harry forever. You felt Harry shift, completely coming off of you, lying next to you. “That was amazing”, he says laughing. I couldn’t help but laugh as well. I lay my head on his chest, my right leg over his his arm on the bottom of my back. I could near his heartbeat slowly coming down, but speed back up once I start tracing his tattoos. “I really like your tattoos H”, you say to him as you trace the butterfly tattoo again. “And I really like you”, harry whispers to you as his heartbeat increased as well. A smile spread across your face. “I like you too”, you say leaning up to kiss him. “You want to see where this goes?”, he asks motioning to both of you. “I would love to”, you say as you straddle his lips and kiss him again. "Perfect. Then I can guess I can call you, my girlfriend?” he says. “Your guess is correct...boyfriend", you smile against his lips. You couldn’t wait to see where this would lead. You were nervous and scared. One thing that you were sure of is that your feelings for Harry were strong and you felt completely safe with him and that you were ready for all the new adventures to come.

#harry edits #harry edward styles #harry fluff #harry smut #hslot #harry styles #smut #1dsmut #harry styles one direction #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry's house album #harry fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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freshlyrage · 10 months

Text

Running Like Water

Chapter 1

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues, first few chapters are flashbacks to high school, they WILL NOT be explicit just fluff.

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

Fic Summary: Andrea has loved Javier since she was a girl in pigtails, yet he has always been off limits. Andrea's older brother Frankie makes sure Javier never crosses any lines, which was an easy task considering Javi's relationship status with long term girlfriend Lorraine. Somewhere, the lines blur.

A/N: Hi tumblr, I decided to also upload on here so heh Hi! It was mentioned in the tags but Ms. Jessica Alba is my face claim for Andrea my beloved. I do have little pinterest boards but I feel like I could also post my inspo pics on here too hehe. Anyway my pinterest is maribari11. My Running Like Water Boards are titled;

Before 1985

Genie and Frankie

1985+

Lor.

Diaz House

First ten chapters are being slowly uploaded on here but can be accessed on ao3. Enjoy :)

word count: 3.3k

Andrea was fifteen, thirteen, twelve and twenty one in his basement. In 1977 Andrea was only thirteen. Her brother, Frankie was fifteen and most definitely couldn’t be bothered hanging out with the girl. She was a bit awkward and interested in things he wasn’t. Deep in his rebellious phase, skipping church and frequenting smoking pot at Genevieve's house. That bitch. Andrea would mutter when she would roll her car into the dirt driveway.

She used to pick fun of Andrea and Andrea wasn’t one to just “forget” about something like that. Having Frankie around definitely pushed that potty mouth that they wouldn’t dare use around their mama. Having been the one of the only Puerto Ricans within a 3 mile radius, mom would take them to church trying to follow along with the differences in words between the way they spoke on the island and how their preacher from Mexico preached.

Melissa Diaz, single mother with too much money for her own good. The largest home in their neighborhood, courtesy of her grandfather who wrote Melissa’s name in his will. He struck big with oil in the 30s and his only alive relative was his little one Melissa, who wasn’t so little. She was already pregnant with Andrea at the time and obviously dropped her life in Miami as a struggling single mom for sudden Texas luxury.

They were also one of the few people in the neighborhood who didn’t like the ranching lifestyle.

Melissa wasn’t into that, she opened up her boutique in town and let the money pile that way. But it was lonely, for Andrea at least. She had friends in her sixth grade classes of course but it was never close enough to be invited out when they would leave school on Fridays and walk to Genevieve's (bitch) dads ice cream parlor. Despite Frankie’s new habits, maybe once a month he’d take Andrea out. And he had taken her out that summer.

The fishing rod sound was comforting, down the hill and a sharp left into town. “Frankie! My legs are too short to keep up.” Green short overalls and a baseball ring t-shirt. His back was facing you and you grip the handles, lean forward but it still doesn’t make you as fast as him. You mutter curses under your breath like your mama could hear.

The town came into view, the shops, moms shop and the police station smack in the middle. The police of Laredo, who mama very much disliked after she was pulled over for having Frankie in the front seat when he was six.

Genevieve's beetle parked in front of the ice cream shop, the speed increases and you can’t help but groan with annoyance. You follow him any way knowing you will be ditched for the next 2 hours, I can just ride back home now.

You don’t though. You follow him before the two of you park our bikes by a post, you two hadn’t had your locks because one of the two of you usually would stay out with the bikes, (it was always Frankie) while the other (you) bought ice cream. With Ice Cream you and your brother would walk your bikes to a bench. Sit for a bit and eat ice cream, it was the time where you two actually enjoyed each others company. Frankie is eyeing the car, “Stay here, I’m going to see if I can catch Genie.”

You give him pleading eyes, “No Frankie, this isn’t fair.” You look around anxiously at the thought of being alone in the street next to two pricey bikes. He laughs and shoves your shoulder before walking into the shop. God, you hate this phase he’s in. He’s totally in love with her and she was older- seemed like she just wanted to be around him to smoke. You look out at the town surrounding you. Summer classic, just so busy this time of year. You watch as 3 girls leave mom's shop, bags in hand. Teenage boys laughing over something near the bar that was closed.

“Andrea?” A deep voice comes from behind you, deep voice? You turn, your pigtails practically slapping against your face. You blink rapidly as the boy approached you. He looked your close to brothers age, but with one of those awkward puberty staches. “Sorry, your Frankie’s sister right?”

You nod, looking down at the bikes, still confused as to why he was talking to you. Or how he knew your name, or why he was getting so close. “You should know that your brother owes 30 cash for a few ounces, has been avoidin’ me” His steps even closer and you can’t hold both bikes at once, Frankie’s bike drops to the floor. Shaking your head, you already had a fear of boys, let alone teenage boys. Now one is close to you asking for money you for sure did not have.

“That’s not my issue dude.” You squeak, and grimace, you really couldn’t have looked weaker than at this moment. Twelve years old in overalls and pig tails. The tween quickly retrieve a blade from his pocket.

With quickness and without any time for thoughts you step away from the bike.

Fuck this.

The boy crouches down and stabs the wheel and the scream you let out is nothing short of embarrassing.

Is no one seeing this?

In a split second the kids face is on the ground, pushed as he stabbed the wheel.

“What the fuck is your issue?” A voice growls, not deep like the prick on the floor but definitely a voice of someone awaiting puberty. Your eyes flash up from the sight-seeing the voice, reaching down and grabbing the collar of blade boy, turning him on his back. “Get the fuck out of here.” He shoves the kid further into the concrete and now people were paying attention.

Yet still, no sign of Frankie, who was probably already smoking with Genie in the back of the store.

The guy with a smudge of sidewalk dirt on his cheek runs away from the 14-year-old vigilante, abandoning his weapon.

The boy had a familiar look, like you’ve seen him in school. A grown look to him already to which his voice contrasted. Your face flushed red when he reached down to grab the bike, “Are you okay?” He stood straight, tall. You nod embarrassingly quick, wishing for a moment that you hadn’t looked so young.

“Yes I-”

“Javier? What the fuck happened to my bike?” Frankie steps out of the shop, Genie behind him, her hair in its perfect voluminous state. The small crowd that formed from Javier’s quick action had already desolated.

Javier, Javier.

Javier scoffs, “You left your little sister with your bike and some kid nearly mugged her.” Frankie’s eyes widen, looking at you, your fear and embarrassment broadcasted on your face. He closes his eyes for moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. Cursing under his breath. He takes a few steps forward, disarming the bike from Javier’s grip.

“Dillan…” He grits. Frankie puts his hand on your shoulder, Javier stood to your left shaking his head. “Shit, Andrea I’m sorry,”. Frankie turned to look at Genie. “Would you mind driving us to Javi’s”

She agreed instantly and by the grace of God we somehow fit the bikes in her small car. To your benefit, you and Javier peeled next to each other. You just couldn’t help but crush immediately. Frankie explained that Javier’s dad “Chucho” used to fix bikes, he probably had a replacement wheel there. He also apologized over and over, Genevieve laughing at how apologetic he was. And Chucho fixed his bike out in the driveway. So you stayed in Javier’s basement for hours. But like always, you felt like an outsider.

A bit too young to be in that crowd. They spoke of things you couldn’t relate to yet. But you were occupied, a gaze on Javier seemed to be the only interesting aspect of the night. And your assumptions were right-well almost right...

Javier was fourteen, turning fifteen in August and he was at your school but just in the 8th grade. Its something you two shared in common, you were both a year older than everyone else in your grades. It was the summer going into 7th grade which meant Javier was joining Frankie at Laredo High School in a matter of months.

And again, to your advantage, it became a constant routine.

Biking to Javier’s basement, you, Genie and Frankie. You didn’t complain despite still feeling out of place, you finally had people to hang out with. And for mama, she was ecstatic that her two kids were actually hanging out together. They would joke about things you hadn’t experienced yet. “Cover your ears Andrea,” Genie jokes as Javier described hooking up with one of Genevieve's friends. She was definitely too old for Javi. God do all 8th graders “hook up”.

You were also quick to realize Genevieve wasn’t all too bad, it sure seemed she grew a bit since her playground bully days. Yet you still managed to be the butt of every joke in Javier’s basement.

“Do you even have friends in school?” Frankie leans into his knees, passing his blunt to Javier. The pass was always skipped over you because you were too little. Surprisingly, you actually agreed. Your eyes narrow at Frankie as he tried to dig at you.

“Leave her alone, I mean you’re here hanging out with your twelve-year-old sister, so you really are no better.”

You couldn’t help it. You were doomed when he beat up that kid Dillan. You couldn’t help but blush at anything he said. It was classic. Little girl crushing on one of her only friends just because he was nice to her. The whole thing just grew deeper with time as you all got closer. As Javier proved himself to be the only one on your side.

Slinging an arm over your shoulders as you all walked home the following summer. It was all friendly to him but you knew Genevieve could read your face.

That face when you're trying to be serious to avoid smiling ear to ear from being so close to your one-time-knight in shining armor.

Though, you never really saw Javier during the school year. It wasn’t surprising, you weren’t even in the same school building during his freshman and sophomore year. You also had to accept that it was just a summer thing, enough time would pass where Javier would be shocked every time he saw you. During his sophomore year you had not seen him those whole nine school months. Not even with all the quinceañeras and town events. You just never saw him, even when you would deliberately bike past his house. You would always see Chucho though. He’d wave, you’d return it and then look straight ahead, oh my god I’m such a creep.

It just became devastating when you were going into high school. You had gotten taller, maybe prettier. But you think it was just the fact that you were 15 now. He hadn’t truly seen you since you were 14. Back when you still had to patch your knees from typical middle school rough housing.

That year he was gone, 1979, he came back briefly just to leave again at the very start of the summer. Attending a summer police camp, for boys. In turn, Frankie spent the summer working and Genie (who was finally your brother’s girlfriend) was taking summer courses at a beauty school.

No, absolutely not, is what you tell Genie when she asked to dye it blonde. You did give in with a haircut and your once long mane now only reached just below your shoulders. “Layers, it makes you look more grown up. Getting you high school ready.” She gleams as she chops your hair in her classroom.

Luckily, despite all of your older asshole brothers jokes, you weren’t completely socially inept.

In that Javi-less year you had met with some girl’s you played lacrosse with. Liandra and Monica. And they really kept you busy that summer. The three of you went swimming and Monica would drive you all around town. They were surely some characters, Monica a bit of a spaz, older than you of course. Javier’s age. Liandra was tougher and much more athletic than the rest of the girls on your team.

It was late in summer, end of July. That familiar feeling was settling in every time you would pass a store with a sign that said Back to school sale.

In your final beach trip with your girls you had come back in Monica’s car like you always did, in shorts and your bikini tops.

7-11 was your haven, steal a few candy bars and pay for Slurpee’s. “God, your tan line.” Liandra grabs your shoulder with her cold hand as it was just gripping her drink. You wince at the feeling.

Gritting your teeth, “Yeah, I just catch sun a bit more.” The cold air of the store nipping at you, goosebumps rising. Monica curses as the slushie overflows, Liandra shoves her in annoyance.

“Mujer, tienes que poner la tapa primero. Tapa ¡primero!” Liandra says very seriously, earning a groan from Monica. You laugh, sipping your cherry flavored slush. The flavor so sweet and concentrated, how you liked. Your eyes fall to the ground as your friends argued in Spanish. You could understand them of course but speaking it, oh that was a whole different story. They thought it was so funny to leave you in a room with their family members to hear you struggle.

An elbow digs into your bare rib. Your eyes snap up at Monica, annoyance prevalent in your face. “Hot guy, older… staring at you right now.” She speaks out the side of her mouth in the most cartoonish way ever. Your eyebrows screw together as you try to slyly look to your right, red straw between your cherry-stained lips.

A familiar pit in your stomach forms, one you would get just a summer ago or when you would bike passed his house and see his truck in the driveway. Your eyebrows shoot up as Javier stands near the refrigerated drinks, a confused look on his face.

He looks so much older; he was taller and his hair. God, he would be 17 by now. Or 16? It isn’t august, he’s still 16.

“I thought it was you.” He laughs walking towards you, not helping the throbbing in your chest. You could hear the girls stir from behind you. His smile doing the thing. When the corners of his eyes crinkle and you could barely make out the color of them. Has he been working out?

Fuck of course he has, he’s been training. Where was he all year?

“Shit, I feel like I haven’t seen you since last summer.” Without letting you think he pulls you in for a hug, too distracted by his scent and hold to realize you were just in a bikini top. His large hand flat on your upper back, stinging the mixture of burn and tan you had received from being by the seaside.

He lets you go but still has a hand on your tanned arm. You try not to focus on the touch and instead speak. “Uh- yeah where have you been all year.” You blurt, fuck did you sound desperate? Obsessed? You were. You had kind of been worried sick. Worried that something was wrong although you knew deep down that Chucho just wouldn’t just go on with his day if there really had been an issue.

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, I know. Chucho sent me to that High School for law and justice last year. Lived with my uncle out there” Your eyes widen, that was in Houston. Chucho really let him leave all year-and then for summer?

He laughs again at your reaction, “I know, I’m back now, going to finish junior and senior year at Laredo, it was pricey keeping me over there. I’m here again” He smiles, he hasn’t stopped since he realized it was you. He always looked at you with that sort of gaze, you wanted to believe it was adoration. And his voice, oh my god when did it get this deep. His eyes fall to the girls behind you.

It snaps you from your Javier Peña daze.

“Oh- that’s great. Sorry-” You awkwardly look at both girls by your side. “These are my friends, Monica and Liandra we play on the varsity lacrosse.” They both are ogling him and you mentally roll your eyes. It’s just the way they are.

Javi crosses his arms and nods, a smirk playing on his lips. He puts a hand out and ruffles your hair. Your cheeks immediately warming at the act, “Freshman on varsity, maybe I’ll stop by some of your games, right ladies?” He crosses his arms again. They both nod, Monica laughs snorting along with it.

Oh my god…

Still a smile playing on his lips, staring down at you. Tall, fuck when did he get so-“Listen, I have to go home to dad but I’ll see you around school, yeah?” He says it like he means it, like he wants to see you around. Like he’s hopeful.

Or maybe you were just making it all up in your mind.

He waves a goodbye to your friends and leaves empty handed, the brass ship bell rings as he goes.

Monica wraps her arms around you and makes a fake moan into your ear. You cringe again pushing her off, “You have to be joking who in the world-”

“Javier, he’s my brothers friend” You brush them away and walk to the register. Taking your change out, 60 cents for a large like always. Monica groans and Liandra puts down her own change, covering for Monica. It was “pay-back” for all the rides she provided you guys.

“He’s so sexy oh my goodness Andrea.” Liandra gushes. You look at her from the side of your eye for a moment, knowing he surely wasn’t her type. She liked those big buff knuckle heads. You smile and thank the cashier before you all exit the store before loading the car.

You do see him in school. He never really sees you, maybe he’s tries not to. Within the first month of freshman year you had seen him in the hall with a new girl at least 4 times. You had heard he was a bit of womanizer, a sweet talker. And he was charming with you so you could only dream of how sweet he was when he was really flirting.

“You wish that was you, don’t you?” Monica laughs from your left, your eyes widen. She caught you staring at him walking with another girl. Truly, shamefully, you weren’t paying attention to the girl he had his arm around but instead the way his ass looked in the jeans he wore. Your cheeks flushing red.

“I’m good.”

You lied. You would walk home nearly everyday with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. You had a lot of alone time that fall, You had a lot of time to just pine over him now that you had to see him everyday. You wondered most importantly, if he’d ever want you, maybe not now but soon. Before he graduates, You also wondered if he was hooking up with those girls. God, he had gotten so popular when he came back. And you just watched.

You did a lot of watching. You watched Genie and Frankie nearly break up over dinner at your house. You watched Monica get a boyfriend only 3 months into high school, and you watched Liandra have her first kiss at a party.

You watched everyone else have experiences, you could only just watch.

#javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #ao3 #fanfic #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader

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notmorbid · 8 months

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cocaine bear.

dialogue prompts from cocaine bear (2023).

why do i skip school with you? you're bossier than the teacher.

for someone who likes to be left alone, you sure do a lot of shit for attention.

cigarettes kill people. and animals.

you do not do cocaine after church.

i don't hang out with drug dealers anymore.

i'm more than a drug dealer.

you can't give someone cancer.

did you notice my nails?

park rangers are peace officers. that means they can shoot people.

watch your back. pop-art punks pop out of nowhere.

i wanted to get up to see the sunset.

you tried to fucking kill me.

you got a foul mouth, bud.

i'd love to not remember that, but it seems like the kind of thing that stays with a man.

you got one question left.

it's paint. it's just red paint.

we don't need to die because of this.

i can't go to jail. i could never shit in front of people.

fuck this entire journey.

i always knew you were my girl.

i had a suspicion and you just confirmed it.

when did you get so soft?

you're my friend. you're my best friend.

there's 20 questions. i still got my last one.

you're the toughest person i know.

thanks for coming to get me.

#rp meme #rp memes #sentence starters #ask memes #inbox memes #ask meme #rp prompts

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alaffy · 1 month

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The Righteous Gemstones, Ep.7x07 - Burn for Burn, Wound for Wound, Stripe for Stripe

At couple of posts ago, I mentioned I was concerned about how one part of this season was being played out. At this point, unless there's some twist or flashback, there's something that should have been shown in this season that wasn't and it's a problem. Also, I can't lie, I'm not enjoying this season as much.

So, this is an extremely quick recap. We start with Judy getting supplies at the Drug store so she can help BJ. As she's driving home, rather as she's at a stoplight, she's kidnapped by the Millita. Not long after, her siblings are captured as well. It seems like the two cousins have been working with Peter for quite some time (which I will get back to in a second). It's also clear that Karl is less then happy with this whole plan. Peter let's Eli know that he has his kids and will only gives them back for 15 million. Eli, angry, goes to May-May and tells her what her sons have done. She doesn't believe it at first. Eli calls the police.

Kind of skipping ahead, Eli decides not to pay the 15 million. Both he and May-May don't actually think Peter will do anything to the siblings, that he'll do the right thing. And they might have been right if it were just Peter and the cousins. However, Peter has followers who are a lot more blood thirsty then him. And they believe Peter should kill one of the siblings. And if Peter can't do it himself, they'll do it for him. So, Peter makes the decision to kill one of the three after church services.

Of course, this leads to the siblings having their heart to heart moment of the season.

Also, and I'm mentioning this as I think this will be important later, we have a scene with BJ, Amber, and Gideon discussing about how they're part of the family, yet have no ability to make decisions.

Anyway, Gideon catches May-May taking a phone call and driving away. He followers her in Eli's car. They end up at the Milltia camp. It turns out Karl has called May-May to come and rescue the cousins. They all try to escape, but are stopped by Pater and Chuck. May-May ignores Peter, knowing he won't shoot her. Peter tells Chuck to shoot his mother, but it's clear Chuck doesn't want to. At this point Gideon, who's found the Monster Truck, saves the family. Gideon proceeds to wreck the camp and they all escape.

Here's the problem I'm having with this season. In episode two, we saw Peter threatening the two boys and them running away. We saw the two boys choosing to stay with the Gemstones when Peter came by the restaurant. When, exactly, did Peter get the boys on his side? Did he talk to them after the restaurant and we just weren't shown? Were they always on his side and the whole thing in episode two was fake (something that really doesn't make sense)? There's clearly an important conversation that happened at some point that we haven't been shown. Now, there are still two episodes left and so this could be something that is shown in a flashback. But if it's not, well, this is something that should always have been shown. It's too important to the plot to leave it as a "assume this happened" kind of thing. It's the basic show, don't tell. And, quite frankly, I would rather have had that scene then another scene of the Gemstones bickering.

#the righteous gemstones #jesse gemstone #amber gemstone #judy gemstone #bj gemstone #eli gemstone #keefe #kelvin gemstone #may-may montgomery #peter montgomery

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penniedreadfuls · 1 year

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The Problem of Lenny

Some thoughts about what could, or should, happen with Luke Kirby's Lenny Bruce in season 5 of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.

Cw: for discussion of drug use and suicide

Okay, I'm probably writing this half as an apology for not having updated "All Things are Temporary" in a while. (My other writerly obligations have hard deadlines D:). And the other half is because I was peeping in on the TMMM reddit and there's some guy saying he works on the show as a sound editor, and is giving out spoilers. Ones that say "Lenny dies, eventually" (as do we all) and that a Once Upon a Time in Hollywood like ending doesn't happen.

I take those "spoilers" with a grain of salt. But here are my personal thoughts both as a fan of the show and a writer.

Show Lenny is a fictional character and should be treated as such. TMMM has never been biographical towards him. Several parts of his life have been changed to fit the show. That's fine and dandy.

We all know he was only supposed to appear in the first episode, but that Luke Kirby charm is powerful. All of his previous interactions with characters have fit within plausible deniability. But that changes once he sleeps with Midge. I think that crosses a line when using a real person as a character in a show. (As much as I loved it)

The real Lenny Bruce died of a morphine overdose in August 1966. It doesn't get discussed much here, but there is the very strong likelihood that it was a suicide. The circumstances around his death, how he was found, what happened afterwards, are incredibly sad and tragic. (If you want to know, you can read it on his wikipedia. I will warn you, it's very upsetting.)

I can't imagine The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel putting that in the show, and doing it well. TMMM is a cotton candy world. There has not been anything truly dark in it. I was not impressed with the narrative of Midge's victimhood in regards to Shy. (I didn't like her apology)

TMMM is not Mad Men, historical happenings either do not intrude much or are played for laughs (Jackie Kennedy). But if the show got further into the 60s, that would get harder to ignore. And like the above realities of Lenny Bruce's death, they would not fit into the TMMM world. I also cannot see Mei getting an abortion.

ex. The Cuban Missile Crisis, 16th Street Baptist Church Bombings. Characters would and should comment on these. So it's probably a good thing the show ends in 1961. A lot happened from 61-66, and the show has so many plotlines, I think a big time skip would mess them up. I got away with the huge time jump in "All Things are Temporary" because of Lenny's internal thoughts and I cheated and had Midge give an interview.

I digress. I fear if ASP and the powers that be have fictional Lenny die as he did in life, that they would change it to make its more "palatable" for the show. An idea that I find immensely disrespectful, since it probably was a suicide. Midge would certainly come to know the details of Lenny's death and her reaction would be heartbreaking (I know Rachel Broshanan would knock it out of the park however).

So what do I think should happen? It comes down to three options. Spare, Ambiguous, or Dies. I've already outlined my thoughts on the last one.

Lenny is one of the most popular characters in the show, sparing him would be giving him what he was denied in real life. As long as the real Kitty Bruce approves?

I personally think that the show should keep it ambiguous. It will be better for all of us fic writers :D Most of all, I just want the ending to be well written. I never watched Gilmore Girls, but I've heard that I should be concerned.

What do you all think?

One last thought. I really believe that ASP intended for Midge and Joel to end up back together during the first two seasons, and then realized the idea is not a popular one. (Are people writing MidgeJoel fic? I don't think so!) Hence we get Mei and Miami.

TL;DR: TMMM should either spare Lenny or go all out in depicting the realities of his death. To lessen it is disrespectful.

#midge x lenny #the marvelous mrs. maisel #midgelenny #midge maisel #tmmm #tmmm season 5 #meta #I ramble

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p-artsypants · 6 months

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Paint it Black (2) Observing

Robin disappeared three months ago. Now, Jump City's crime rate is mysteriously being taken care of by a normal, albeit strange, teenage boy who goes by the name Black. As the Titans befriend this lunatic, they begin to see a correlation between him and their missing leader. Will they be able to find Robin, or will Black turn them all insane as himself?

Ao3

"So?" Beast Boy asked, a grin on his features.

"I met him. He seems...strange. I wonder if there is something wrong with him."

"Of course there is!" Beast Boy shouted. "The kid's living a delusion! He's totally Schizophrenic! He’s 9th level crazy banana-pants bonkers!"

"Where's your degree in Psychology?" Cyborg asked.

Raven chimed in. "I couldn’t read his mind when I saw him. He's too...random?"

"Random? More like utterly out of control! He must have gotten brain damage or something!"

"Like you?" Raven quipped.

Beast Boy didn't skip a beat. "I don't doubt I have brain damage from all the fights I've been in, but there's no way you can compare us."

"I will agree and say that Black is very strange. I am concerned for him though." Starfire added.

"He told me he was homeless," said Raven.

“I saw him take money from a drug dealer he took out.” Cyborg scratched his chin. “So he’s not panhandling.”

“What do we do? Mention him to the police?” Starfire asked.

“Let’s just…keep an eye out for him. Maybe he’s a friendly neighborhood weirdo, or maybe he’s a problem.”

—-

It continued like that for the weeks following. Each Titan would take turns performing patrol at night, while the usual super villains would crop up randomly in between. Nearly every night, for maybe only a few minutes, they would cross paths with the young man known as Black. Each time, they would try to weasel more information out of him, but more often than not, he left them with more questions.

“Cyborg! Thank god! I need help!” A young man came running up to him. He looked rather roughed up and had a black eye.

“What’s up, man?”

“I know we were wrong. My friends and I tried to shoplift from the Quick Mart, but then my buddy tried to actually mug a customer. It was so wrong and I know that but the dude went ape shit and just started beating the hell out of us! I’m the only one that got away! Please Cyborg, my brother’s back there and I think he’s gonna get killed.”

“Alright alright, I got you man, take me there.”

The young man ran back the way he came, Cyborg hot on his trail. The Quick Mart was just around the corner. The windows were plastered with posters and neon signs, so much so, the inside couldn’t be seen.

“Wait here,” Cyborg demanded, and headed for the door.

Whatever supervillain he was expecting to see, he didn’t see them. Instead, Black sat on the counter, nonchalantly eating a pint of ice cream.

There were four unconscious young men on the ground, and the cashier was crying behind the counter.

“Aww man,” Cyborg groaned, looking at the carnage.

“Hey! Borgy-Boy! Want some Chunky Monkey?” Black held out his spoon.

“Man, what did you do?”

“Can you believe these Ding Dongs tried to mug me? I only have so much money to spend on food, and they’re trying to take it!”

Cyborg gave him a hard look. “What about all that money you’ve taken from the people you bust?”

“Hey!” Black pointed his spoon at him. “Most of that money went into the offering plate on Sunday!”

Cyborg stared back in shock. “You go to church?”

“Sure! Free coffee, free music, free air conditioning and heat, it's a swell deal! I don’t really know what they’re talkin’ ‘bout, but that Jesus guy sounds like a real neat fella!”

Cyborg shook his head. Black had a talent for derailing situations quickly. “What did I tell you about beating people up?”

Black whined. “But mooooommmmm! They started it!”

“I called the police,” the cashier finally sobbed out. “They’ll be here at any moment.”

“Whoops! Looks like I gotta vámonos!”

“Did you pay for the ice cream?” Cyborg asked sternly.

“YeEEEeeeeEEEs!” Black sassed right back.

“Good, then you’re ready to wait for the police with me.”

Black’s attitude changed slightly then. He paled and his lips became taught. “Nah, I’m good.”

“What if I tell you you have to?”

Then Black’s face fell, a much darker, hateful gaze on his face. “I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to. Not anymore.”

“Anymore?” Cyborg took a step toward him.

Black launched from the counter, springboarded off Cyborg’s shoulders and landed at the exit. “Bye Borgy-Boy! Love you!” And he was gone.

“Damnit!” Cyborg shouted to the ceiling.

—-

“Okay, I think he’s a problem,” Cyborg announced without preamble.

Starfire, Beast Boy, and Raven all looked at him startled.

“Who?”

“Black! Who else!? He beat up a bunch of shoplifters at the Quick Mart and then dipped when I told him to stay for the police. Why would he run if he had nothing to hide?”

Raven raised a brow. “So you want us to capture him? Take him down? Yeah, we all know what he’s doing is illegal, but he’s doing us a huge favor. We don’t have time to worry about the little guys.”

“What if we were to just observe him more? Mayhaps this is a temporary thing?”

“Temporary insanity? I’d love to hear that argument.” Beast Boy chuckled.

“Fine, another week or two of observation. Then we have to decide what we’re going to do about him.”

—

During Raven’s patrol, she got to have her own fun with a jewelry store break in. She passed by the roof just as the burglar’s broke through the window.

Thinking that was all the action she was going to see on her patrol, she began to return home, only to be distracted by someone singing.

Well, it was more like caterwauling.

“I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT!”

It was a crime to be singing so poorly and so loudly so late at night. A crime to Raven, at least. All this required was a stern talking too.

Raven followed the sour notes down a backstreet and into the warehouse district.

“Why am I not surprised?” Raven drawled.

Black was still singing at the top of his lungs, and sort of dancing down the alley. In both hands, he held cans of spray paint, and he was spraying the walls.

Raven landed behind him.

“I’M TRAPPED IN THIS BODY–CAN’T—GET OUT!!!”

“Vandalizing private property? Some hero you are.”

“AH!” Black startled, whipped around and sprayed Raven in the face with red paint.

Luckily she clenched her eyes shut so she wasn’t blinded.

“Oh! Mrs. Magpie! I’m sorry, you startled me!”

Raven tried to wipe the paint from her face. “So I noticed.”

Black took out a rag from his pocket and started rubbing her face before she batted him away.

He slunk back, defeated. “And to answer your question, I wasn’t trying to vandalize this wall. Someone else already did that. I was just trying to make it…less Hitler-y.”

Raven looked at the wall. On half were some interesting black and red swirls, still wet, and the other half had about a dozen swastikas punctuated with profanity.

“I see. You were covering it up.”

“Yeppers! Are you proud of me, Rae Rae?”

The last thing she wanted to do was indulge this lunatic. “You know, if you talked to the owner, he’d probably give you some paint to cover the whole wall in an even coat.”

He scoffed. “There’s no art in that!”

“Oh, so now you’re an artist?”

“Am I not allowed to have a hobby?”

She huffed. “Fair.”

“I’ll take it more seriously. I’ll practice and make it really good! A series of pretty alleyways by me!”

Raven was out of shits to give. “Fine. Go ahead. Wow me with your murals.”

Black grinned gleefully and jumped. “You won’t regret it!”

“See that I won’t.”

“Oh,” he licked his thumb. “You have a little paint—“

She summoned a force field to stop him from getting any closer. “Don’t even think about it.”

—-

Usually, Black had a tendency to seek out the Titans, or let his presence be known. So when Beast Boy found the young man digging through a dumpster, he quickly changed into a mouse to watch from afar.

“In the deepest ocean, the bottom of the sea, your eyes, they turn me,” Black sang a tune Beast Boy swear he heard before, but couldn’t place it.

Beast Boy scurried across the ground, coming closer.

Black was bent over at the waist, his torso inside the dumpster, and his singing echoed with a metallic ring. “I get eaten by the worms and weird fishes. Picked over by the worms…and weird fishes.”

Where had he heard that before? The radio? He was usually pretty hip with modern music.

“Ah ha!” Black cried triumphantly as he emerged. He had a prize in his hand.

Beast Boy eagerly waited to see what Black had found and was so excited about.

Another watch.

The young man cinched it on his wrist, so quickly, it looked like he’d done it a hundred times before. “You don’t have a battery, but that’s okay. I still love you.”

A dead watch. What was so exciting about a dead watch?

Black then rubbed his stomach. “Hmm…me hungy!” And he turned and left the alley.

Beast Boy waited until he rounded the corner to turn into a sparrow and followed him.

Black skipped down the street, his tattered trench coat fluttering behind him.

Coming down the street was a dog walker, a man with a husky. Black saw them and ran to them. “Ohhh! A puppy! What’s his name? Can I pet?!”

The man looked startled, but ultimately said, “uh sure. His name is Plinko.”

“Hi puppy! Hi Plinko! Who’s a good boy?! Who would rip someone’s face off to protect his owner!? My name is Black. What’s your name?”

The man looked even more startled and started to tug his dog away. “Sorry, I have to go.”

“Okie dokie then! Bye bye Plinko! Bye bye Plinko’s dad!” Black waved enthusiastically. Then he continued his merry way down the street.

Beast Boy watched in fascination, and prepared to intervene if Black showed any kind of threat towards the man. Thankfully, he didn’t, just behaved oddly enough to frighten the man off.

Black broke into a sprint, running at a wall. When he reached it, he used a fire escape to climb up the side of a building, then leapt onto a short roof. From there, he cartwheeled and flipped to the other edge and jumped over to the next roof.

He was fast. Beast Boy had to morph into an Eagle to keep up with him. He was used to seeing kids parkour, and the hobby had become more popular over the years the more stunts of Robin’s had been captured on camera. But Beast Boy had never seen someone move like this. It was almost inhuman. Black flung himself across distances anyone else with self preservation would have avoided. He flipped and twisted as he went, ignoring laws of physics.

Then, they were at the Quick Mart, and he strolled in like he hadn’t been performing gymnastics across the rooftops.

Beast Boy quickly shifted into a fly and flew in before the door shut. This was kind of fun. He didn’t get to do stealth missions often.

“Hi Laura!” Black chirped.

“Oh. Hi Black.” The cashier looked nervous and swallowed thickly.

“Got anything fresh? How old is the pizza? Is it all dried out like jerky?”

“I just put a new pie in,” she said with a sigh.

“Then I want a slice! Not one with pepperoni’s though.” He shivered.

She gave him a solemn nod and cut him a slice of cheese pizza.

“Hey chicky-poo, why are you nervous?” He asked as he grabbed a drink from the fridge. Just a water.

“We’re not going to have any problems today, are we?” She asked sternly, but looked pale and nauseous.

“Problems? Me?! You know I’m here to solve problems, right?!”

The cashier didn’t answer.

Black placed his hands on his hips. “Is this about those shoplifters earlier this week? Did Borgy-Boy or the Popo give you a hard time?”

She took a shaky breath. “They were fine. I just…what you did to those boys.”

He scoffed. “What's a couple broken fingers and fractured skulls among friends?”

“Um…I can’t imagine those guys think you’re friends…”

“Well, then they’re doodoo heads. How much for the water and the pizza? Ohh and this candy bar?”

“7.83.”

“Oh. No candy bar then.” He pouted.

“5.70.”

Black dug around in his pockets and took out some bills and coins. “Is that enough?”

“This is a button.”

“Oh. How much is that worth?”

The cashier sighed and helped him count out the money on the counter. Beast Boy prepared to intervene if he didn’t have enough, but thankfully, he did.

“And, you had a little extra, so you get a nickel back.” She handed him a coin.

He grinned. “I think I like them! Most people don’t, but that’s okay. Not everyone has to agree!”

“What?”

“Nickleback! They do the song from Shrek!”

“Honey, that’s Smash Mouth.”

Black sighed. “I can’t count change and I can’t remember Nickleback’s discography. Is there anything I can do right?”

Break bones, apparently, thought Beast Boy.

“Well, you do the crime fighting thing pretty well. Maybe once you get your memory back, you’ll be able to do other things.”

Black’s face soured. “No no, I’m going to learn new things, not remember old ones.” He took on a far off look. “I don’t want to remember the old things.”

“Oh…kay…” Laura said, leaning away from the counter.

Black brightened considerably. “Thanks for the pizza! See you around Laura!” Then he looked to the wall, right at Beast Boy. “See you around, Jolly Green!”

Beast Boy shifted back into a human, falling off the wall and startling Laura. “Duuuude! How did you know?!”

“Come on, how often do you see a green fly?”

“Often?! How–!?”

Black tsked. “You gotta be better than that, Beastie Boy! Ch-check, check it out! Wh-what what’s it all about!?” He started rapping Beastie Boy lyrics and he nonchalantly strolled out the door.

Beast Boy stood still, staring open mouthed.

“I had no idea you were there,” said Laura. “That kid is something else.”

“Yeah, but what?”

—

Cyborg arrived from the lobby, the huge box with him full. He dumped out the contents, letters, on the table and started to sort.

“What’s all that?” Asked Raven.

“Mail. It’s been sitting out there for a while and I just can’t put it off anymore.”

“Tired of all the condolence cards?”

“Very.”

“Anything for me?” Beast Boy asked, peering over the table.

“You can help me sort, and then you’ll know.” Cyborg threw a bunch of flyers away. “Man, I bet some of these are a month old. Hope none of it was time sensitive.”

“Oooo what’s this?” Beast Boy picked up a thicker envelope with handwritten addresses on it. “It’s addressed to all of us.”

“Who’s it from?”

“Says, ‘Jim Baker.’ Never heard of ‘im.”

“Probably fan mail. Maybe we saved him and never got his name. God forbid another condolence card.”

“It’s thick. It feels like there’s something in it. Maybe money?”

“If it’s money, we have to send it back,” Cyborg said sternly. “We can’t take it.”

“Well then…maybe not money…” Beast Boy grinned, preparing to pocket the money anyway. He tore open the envelope, but instead of money, there was just an SD card and a note.

‘Teen Titans,

This was left in my possession, but I think it’s meant for you.’

“H-hey Cy?” Beast Boy passed the envelope over to Cyborg. He scrutinized the note and then put the SD card into his arm to scan it for viruses.

“Looks clean, but whatever is on it is slightly corrupted. The card doesn’t look like it was taken very good care of.”

“May we see it?” Asked Starfire.

“I can try to pull the file off.” He took the card over to the main computer and popped it in. “Oh, looks like multiple video files. Let’s see if they’ll load.”

“Do you think someone has sent us a movie to watch? Shall I make the popped corn?”

“Something like that,” Raven answered, setting her book aside. “Don’t bother with the popcorn though.”

When the video started up, the picture was pixelated and grainy, the sound cut in and out.

“Get—to work? —so old.”

A face was in frame, black and white, and hard to make out. “It has to work. It’s the last chance I have.”

“That is Robin’s voice!” Starfire shouted, standing to her feet.

“Really?” Beast Boy asked. “I can’t really tell.”

“If you get caught, they’ll kill you.” The other person said.

“Then I won’t get caught.” The camera shifted, showing more of the room, though it was grainy. The camera shook hard a few times and the picture became clearer. There was a young man, about Robin’s age, wearing a hospital gown.

“Why are you messing with that thing?” He asked.

“Secret,” said Robin’s voice.

“Whatever dude, just don’t include me in this.”

The camera turned, and they could see the nose down of the person Starfire thought was Robin.

“That is Robin’s chin!” Starfire screamed.

“Yeah, it is,” said Raven.

“This is…not what I was prepared for. There’s twenty of us here,” Robin whispered. “Is that too much information? Crap.”

And the video ended.

“Play the next one!” Star demanded.

Cyborg obeyed and played the next file. “I’ll set these up to play back to back.”

The next video played, and it was immediately apparent that something was wrong. The camera was under a bed. They still couldn’t see Robin’s face. But his hand was on the ground.

“There’s a red light.” He stated. “So, that’s good.” He breathed, a long, low exhale. Somewhere in an adjacent room, someone screamed. Robin took another shaking breath, then, to everyone’s surprise, he started to softly sing. “When I'm at the pearly gates, this'll be on my videotape, my videotape. Mephistopheles is just beneath…and he's reaching up to grab me.”

Starfire sat at the edge of her seat, holding a pillow to her chest. She had never heard Robin sing before. To everyone else, it was fine, but to her, his voice was perfect. Soft, gentle, and so so sad.

“This is one for the good days and I have it all here in red, blue, green. Red, blue, green.”

Robin’s song stopped suddenly as the scream came again, worse than before. He shifted closer to the camera, and continued his song as low as he could. “This is my way of saying goodbye. 'Cause I can't do it face to face. So I'm talking to you after it’s too late.”

Starfire gasped.

“No matter what happens now. You shouldn't be afraid, because I know today has been the most perfect day I've ever seen.”

And the video ended.

A red exclamation mark displayed on the screen, determining that the video was corrupted.

“NO!” Starfire shrieked. “Cyborg, you must recover those videos! It is the only clue we have to Robin! Please!”

“Star, I’m going to try, but there’s no guarantees.”

“If you do not recover those videos, I shall never forgive you!”

“Dude, he said he’s going to try!” Beast Boy yelled back. “We just…have to be patient.”

Starfire fled the room, her cries loud enough to rattle the walls.

“I’ll get to work,” Cyborg stated as he retrieved the disc and left.

Raven and Beast Boy left shortly after, both lost in their thoughts.

#fanfiction #teen titans #robin #starfire #paint it black #robstar #tt animated #victor stone #raven teen titans #garfield logan #beast boy #cyborg #koriand'r #dick grayson

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otome-mondays · 3 months

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Piofiore: Fated Memories Review 🔫

(Ignore the fact that’s a water gun ty)

Another one I’m late to reviewing, but also another one I finished years ago. I first started this while in the middle of Collar x Malice and at the end of my senior year of high school. I finished this one shortly after graduating. Now this game is very rough so if you are triggered by violence, mafia, graphic descriptions of torture, drug abuse, human trafficking, suicide, and catholicism, please put yourself first and don’t play this game. I’d also recommend looking up a full list in case I have missed anything. Also, as with all of my reviews, these are my own opinions about the game. You may agree with me, you may not. I’m open to discussions but please be respectful! This review will contain general game spoilers, as well as spoilers for the secret route.

Piofiore takes place in 1925 Italy, in the small fictional town of Burlone. Burlone is run basically by the mafia, split up into 4 parts. There are 3 different mafia within the town, who each control a district, and then there’s a neutral fourth district. The Falce district is run by the older and more traditional Falzone mafia, the Creta district is run by the younger Italiant mafia the Visconti, and the Veleno district is run by a faction of the Chinese Lao-Shu mafia. We play as Liliana Adornato, an orphan raised in the Catholic Church by the nuns. Lili lives a very simple life and enjoys it, not really leaving the neutral district unless with members of the church. That is until all of the sudden she gets targeted by the mafias and now we start the game. This seems kind of early, and to be fair I did skip a lot of the prologue details for a few reasons. One, the prologue changes more as you complete more routes. It expands and gets longer and adds more choices. Two, the prologue is honestly a little long and boring to me. It’s only two chapters long if I’m remembering correctly, but it was ridiculously painful for me to get through after the first time. You are introduced to all the known love interests during the prologue though, and your answers to questions determine which route you are playing. Most routes are locked at the start and I had very minimal info on a definitive route order, so I decided to specifically follow the one on Otome Kitten’s review. Like my last review, I’m going to go in order I played.

Spoilers Ahead

Nicola Francesca ☕️

First up we have Nicola, the underboss of the Falzone mafia family. Underboss basically means second in command, and he definitely fits the roll. Nicola’s route honestly served as the perfect introductory route to this game. We get to learn about many different terms and explanations as to what the mafia are doing without giving an information overload. We also see how the mafias work within the city of Burlone and have some minimal exploration of the world of Piofiore. I have seen very mixed opinions on this route, but Nicola’s routes was one of my favorites in the game. Nicola is also one of the few consistently written characters and it makes me enjoy him as a character even more. So in Piofiore, every route has 3 big endings: best, good, and tragic. Unlike Collar x Malice, you’ll generally know what route your on because you can get completely different chapters and some are shorter than others. The best and good endings here are great and really give a nice wrap up to Nicola’s route! They’re more on the lighthearted sides which helps ease you into the game. Meanwhile the tragic ending…the writing it great but oh boy is this ending twisted. Bit of a spoiler but warning, this is a yandere end. Now, most the tragic endings are very jarring and twisted, so if you don’t like that don’t read them (but also you really shouldn’t be playing this game if that’s the case). This isn’t even anywhere close to being the worst tragic ending in terms of twisted-ness, so brace yourself for the next ones. This route gets an 8/10 for me!

Yang 🐼

Congratulations everybody, we’ve made it to the incredibly twisted route. Do you like trash characters who don’t pretend to be morally correct? Then Yang is gonna be your guy! So Yang here is in charge of the Lao-Shu, which are typically the antagonists of the routes. He’s the one that basically pushes the story into motion too, having the Lao-Shu abduct Lili at the start of every route. In this route, he’s successful and keeps Lili with him in the Lao-Shu. I don’t know why I keep feeling the need to bring this up, but if you are looking for any cute romance stories this is not the game and this is definitely not that route. Yang’s route honestly probably has the best writing for both characters and story, and it makes a very interesting playthrough. All of Yang’s endings are also very interesting and Lili behaves differently as a character throughout them too. It’s interesting to see all the sides of Yang and because of this he’s my favorite character based purely on writing. Now as an actual love interest, my god I hate him. But I would 1000% replay this route and enjoy it. 9.5/10

Dante Falzone ✝️

Welcome to the long route…buckle up this one takes a bit. Dante is the boss of the Falzone family, and unfortunately very boring to me at least. At this point in me playing the game, I genuinely don’t have any problems with him other than he’s just kinda bland to me. Dante is a very straightforward and straight-laced man, and is an extremely devout Catholic who follows his beliefs better than most people I know irl who fall into any Christian denominations. Other than besides, ya know, murdering people and doing criminal stuff with the mafia. Anyways, Dante’s route has a lot of lore! A lot of lote that basically becomes meaningless outside of this route. Unfortunately for Dante, his endings didn’t stand out as much compared to others in this game. His best ending is a pretty basic happy ending, his tragic ending is another basic sad ending. As for the good ending? I genuinely do not remember it and I’m not going back to re-read it. Now for most of the good endings I have had to go back to look at the CGs to try to remember what happened and even doing that for Dante didn’t jog my memory so idk what happened there. At the end of Dante’s route, he’s left still an ok basic character. Unfortunately for him it won’t stay that way by the end of the game. 7/10

Orlok 🗡️

Oh boy here it is, the saddest route in the game. Orlok easily was my favorite and I was so excited for his route. Orlok is a very mysterious character seeing as he isn’t in any mafia family, but rather working as an assassin for the church. And oh boy, he has so much religious trauma. The church tends to shove most of their dirty work onto him and any unlucky soul forced into this position. His route makes me so mad, because while there is great writing and even minimally talks about having to balance religious trauma with spirituality, lots of characters are just butchered for the sake of angst. And not in a good way. Dante and Gil specifically are like 2 entirely different characters who are both incredibly stupid and way more aggressive than before…which is saying something. The best and good endings give Orlok and Lili some peace, but the tragic endings is one of the most brutal endings. I hated reading it too because of how it just shouldn’t of happened if we kept the proper characterizations of the others. Nicola’s the only one who doesn’t get his character assassinated. 8/10

Gil Redford 🥃

Need something to cheer you up after Orlok? Well, it’s a good thing we’re on Gil’s route! This route is surprisingly more easy-going than most of the other routes. Gil here is the leader of the Visconti, but he’s very friendly with all the citizens of Burlone regardless of their district. He’s really easy-going too, and I felt like he was the only one to really see Lili as a person rather than a target of the mafia. After Orlok’s route, I thought I’d hate him like I hate Dante, but he proved to have an actually entertaining and good route that redeemed him. His route also is nearly perfect, but because of the supposed need of a Finale we get some more “this would never happen” crap. Unfortunately I don’t remember his good ending, but his best ending and tragic ending were great! 9/10

Spoilers Below!

Finale 💶

The secret final boss, the finale route! This one functions a bit differently than the others. This route is also longer than the rest like Dante’s, and it was even less necessary! Unlike the other routes, this one has 2 major endings: Finale end and Henri end. Let’s start with the good one. The finale ending is very unique because it’s not a romantic one! This one rather ties up loose ends and solves the biggest mystery about wants going on in Burlone and who is orchestrating everything. Genuinely a good ending and if anything, could be considered the true ending. 8/10. Now the bad. Henri on the other hand…oh boy. Sorry to any Henri fans, but I hate this guy. Henri is the biggest man-child I have ever seen in a romance based game that I’ve played. That is really bad. Instead of doing any work on his trauma, he just blames everybody else for anything and everything bad that happens to it. It’s never his fault. The dude actively does bad things and throws a whole fit when bad things happen because of that. Maybe I’d understand it more if he wasn’t in his 30s! Even Yang would be a healthier partner than Henri at this point and that’s saying something. Literally 1/10 I hate this so much.

Overall Thoughts 🔫

Believe it or not I did enjoy this game, but it is definitely not for everybody! I am still upset years later about how Orlok’s route was handled and the fact Henri is even a part of the game. There’s bonus post-route stories for both the best endings and tragic endings, and Henri gets his own as well. The good ending ones specifically set up Piofiore: Episodio 1926 (which when I was playing had yet to be localized). As for a route order, I do recommend Nicola -> Yang -> Dante -> Orlok -> Gil -> Finale. At minimum play Dante’s route before Orlok’s because I feel Orlok’s route ruins Dante. This also follows the least to greatest lore drops and developing lore as you go along. Even with its issues, I do recommend this game for anybody who can handle it. 8/10

EDIT: I decided to add in my rankings for LIs and routes to my reviews!

Route: Yang > Gil > Orlok > Nicola > Finale > Dante >Henri

LIs: Orlok > Nicola > Gil > Yang > Dante > Henri

Resources 📝

I went and took pictures of the CGs use above, but I also got my walkthroughs from Otome Kitten. I also interacted with the otomegames subreddit for thoughts on the game.

#otome mondays #piofiore fated memories #cg spoilers #minor spoilers #secret character spoilers

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creature-wizard · 11 months

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(CW: This post is talking about exposed fraud Lauren Stratford/Laurel Rose Willson's book Satan's Undergound, in which she claimed to have experienced CSE and satanic ritual abuse. There will be some pretty dark topics discussed, so feel free to skip this post/thread if you're not up to it.)

Stratford claims that she started repressing her memories after Victor kicked her out of the cult, though it's not clear exactly how much she's supposedly repressed.

Stratford also claims that many members of the satanic cult had been given spirit guides from Satan, and that while many of them seemed fond enough of their spirit guides, one woman was afraid that her spirit guide would kill her if she ever disobeyed its commands.

She claims that after leaving the cult, the satanists sent her a spirit guide, who took the form of a kindly, motherly woman, who was apparently sent to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't... do anything the cultists didn't want.

We also have another oddity in the story. Earlier, Stratford had claimed that she'd been given drugs to keep her under the control of the pornographers. But now that she's been sent away from the cult, there's no mention of needing any sort of detox or rehab or anything.

In fact, she claims:

I finally managed to finish my college credits and graduate. I had no trouble getting good jobs. My college work was broad enough to qualify me for a number of professional positions.

Not that she isn't having troubles. Her trauma makes it difficult to work in counseling positions, and for some reason Victor is stalking her, even though... he discarded her?

She claims that:

Obscene phone calls, threatening notes, and the stress and pressure of my latest job would build once again. I also began to feel the inevitable accumulation of the years of physical abuse. I became too tired and was fast becoming too ill to keep running. Finally my body gave out and I was hospitalized.

But yeah, like, the whole drug thing just goes unmentioned here. No mention of withdrawal symptoms or anything.

She claims that she was "hospitalized off and on for treatment of a chronic and life-threatening disorder that was possibly triggered by my years of abuse." Strangely, she doesn't name the disorder, though she mentions that it caused pain. Then she says that the hospital had a social worker take her through guided imagery sessions. During her session, she supposedly remembers some of her repressed childhood memories.

Stratford claims that her spirit guide's behavior changes, becoming abusive and threatening. She basically tries to stop Stratford from uncovering her memories, because this would somehow free her from the cult.

She claims that the process of uncovering her memories leads to severe panic attacks, and blames her speeding on Satan. She reaches the "how can I, a Christian, be unable to deal with this Demon Problem??" stage, which is also a thing that happened in The Satan Seller.

She apparently gets her answer when she learns - for the first time, apparently - that Satan was already defeated at the cross and the only power he has over her is the power she lets him have. Somehow, she apparently missed this one despite her mother taking her to church every Sunday.

Eventually she starts writing and speaking out about her alleged abuse and of course the satanists can't do anything about it because they never existed in the first place because the Lord is protecting her.

Oh, and in the next chapter, Stratford is about to drop some new info about her life in the cult... info that it seems kinda odd she didn't mention before, almost as if she's making shit up as she's going along.

She now claims that she gave birth to three babies while she was in the cult.

#satan's underground #satanic panic #satanic ritual abuse #sra #lauren stratford #laurel rose willson

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sebstan2020 · 4 months

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Red Ties

Chapter 17

Warnings: BDSM, Dom/Sub, Mafia, Violence, Gang, SMUT, Sex, Possessive Bucky, Overprotectiveness, Bondage, Sexual Themes, Dark Themes, Guns, Drugs, Gang Violence

Mary pulled up to the hospital, parked her car, and made her way up the stairs. She had been giddy all morning since James had dropped her off. She wasn't sure if she was just being silly, but it was almost as if she had a glow to her, like her complexion was gleaming. Her body didn't feel any different. It was probably all in her head because it was all so new to her, and she wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to be feeling. But she felt good, and thinking about her first night with James made her want to do it all over again.

As she skipped up the steps into the hospital, it wasn't long until a squealing Anya came running to her, a grin on her face, and tugged her into the nurses station.

"Tell me everything right now," Mary huffed, not even being able to get a breath in as Anya forced her down in the chair and threw a hundred questions at her.

"Ok, what was it like? Did he kiss you? Did he undress you? Did you touch his coc-?".

"Anya!" Mary butted in before she could shout anything else at her. and Anya giggled, grinning from ear to ear like a chesire cat.

"What! I need to know the details.

Mary huffed, knowing there was no way out of this conversation.

"Well, he picked me up, and then we went back to his; he showed me around his house," Anya huffed.

"I don't care about that; get to the good part," she urged.

"Okay. He took me to his bedroom because it was the last room he was showing me, and then it kind of went silent for a bit, and then he kissed me." Mary couldn't help but smile at the memory of him cupping her cheeks and kissing her so gently, so softly.

"Then I got really nervous and said I'm not ready, thinking we were going to do it, but he said we weren't doing that. Then he undressed me and pushed me on the bed." Anya was in complete silence, eyes wide, as she listened intensely to Mary.

"And we were kissing and touching, and then he put his hand down there and was toucing me," she whispered, her cheeks flushing. She wasn't even sure she should be talking about this here, in a hospital where the sick come to be healed. What would God think?

"And that was it," she shrugged.

"And... did you like it?" Anya asked quickly, and Mary couldn't help the grin appear on her face. Anay aquealed in delight, with Mary smacking her arm to calm her down. She was jumping up and down like a toddler on Christmas Day, clapping her hands like a child, and Mary shook her head. She was more excited than Mary.

"Oh my god, I'm so happy." Mary furrowed her brows and laughed.

"You don't know how much this means to me," she said, taking a deep breath, and Mary scoffed, turning in her chair.

"You are crazy," but it was nice to know her friend was happy for her, and if anything, she was the one person she could talk to about this stuff.

"So your first orgasm?" Anya grinned.

"Stop. People can hear you," Mary hushed. She didn't exactly want the whole hospital, knowing she had her first orgasm last night at the hands of James Barnes with just his fingers. This was private information.

"Oh, shut up; they can't hear me. Do you feel different?" She grinned, and Mary sighed.

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"You're glowing." Anya nodded, and Mary stared at her. So she wasn't just going crazy.

"Really, I thought I was just being silly," she giggled. She had to admit that the thought of James and his actions last night made her tingle all over, and she wondered if this glow was going to last forever. There was still so much she hadn't done, and she couldn't help but wonder where she went from here.

Just then, Peter walked in, carrying a clipboard with some paperwork on it. He immediately smiled as he saw Mary.

"Hey," he said cheerfully.

"Hey, I didn't know you were working tonight," she asked with furrowed brows.

"Yeah, they asked me to come in for emergancy; David called in sick," he shrugged. Peter glanced up at Anya, who was still grinning ear to ear, and he looked at her confused, peaking down at Mary.

"Why is she so happy?" he asked, and Mary sighed softly, about to explain, but Anya had already buttered in.

"Our girl just had her first orgasm," she cheered, and Mary looked at her with wide eyes as if she were saying, Shut up!

"Oh" was all Peter could say. It was awkward, and Mary blushed at him. For some reason, telling her guy's best friend that she had her first orgasm was more awkward than she thought. It was like telling a boy you're on your period, and Peter clearly wasn't sure what to say, not that Mary expected him to congratulate her on it.

"I saw James last night; is that what she means?" she said politely. That was the Christian way of explaining what happened last night.

"Did you have a good time?" he asked, trying not to be rude or awkward, and she nodded.

"Yeah, I mean, you can probably tell from her reaction." Mary shoved her thumb in Anya's direction.

"Peter, you should be happy for her. Mary has finally found someone, and now she's not going to be sitting in that skanky apartment of hers all the time." Anya crossed her arms.

"I am happy for her. I just don't think Mary wants us screaming it down the halls," he clarified.

"Thank you, Peter," Mary agreed, and Anya groaned.

"Fine, fine, I won't scream and shout anymore. So, when are you seeing him next?" She grinned, getting all giddy again.

"Um, Wednesday, it's the only night I'm not doing nights this week."

"Well, I want every detail; I don't think you can bullshit me with anything either." Anya pointed her finger at her with a stern look.

"Language," Mary scolded, and Anya flicked her hair over her shoulder before strutting out of the office.

"God, she's crazy," Mary huffed.

"You're right about that," Peter agreed. There was a moment of silence before Peter spoke.

"But I'm glad you had a nice night." He wasn't sure if he should say anything. He didn't know if Mary wanted to talk about it anymore, but he didn't want to sound like he wasn't happy for her. He was happy—a bit.

"Thanks, and don't ask me for any details," she joked, and Peter laughed.

"I promise I won't.".

"How's the apartment?" she asked.

"It's good; I think I'm nearly there. I was thinking about hosting a superbowl night. Have some drinks and some food. What do you think?".

"Yeah, that sounds amazing. I'll bring something over. When is the superbowl?" Mary asked.

"Urh, I think it's next Saturday; I'll tell Anya as well, and you guys can stay over if you like.".

"Thanks, Peter," she smiled.

"Anway, I should get back; I'll see you later," he said with a smile, and Mary nodded. She was left to her own thoughts, which immediately went back to James, and she wondered what he was up to.

.........

James climbed the steps of Vanilla, his shoes clicking on the stone floor as he entered. It was quiet except for the little music in the background playing softly through the speakers dotted around the hotel. He strided over to the desk, resting his arms as he waited for Lily.

The subtle click of shoes made him turn, expecting it to be her, but instead it was Natalie, someone he didn't particularly want to see right now.

"Oh, I didn't think you were booked tonight," she said with furrowed brows as she flicked through the computer.

"I'm not; I'm here on business," he clarified, and Natalie grinned, running her hands along the marble top and spreading her arms wide to widen her chest area. She was wearing a skimpy dress with black heels, her breasts peeking out. Before, James would have been all over her, pulling her by her hand to the room or even the bathroom, slamming her against the wall, and fucking her brains out. But looking at her now only made him want to not do that.

"Well, now that you're here, maybe I can slot you in somewhere." She wiggled her perfect brow, and James stood up straight.

"I can't tongiht," he said simply, and Natalie straightened up, narrowing her eyes and placing her hands on her hips.

"What's gotten into you? Normally, you're all for spontaneity," she huffed.

"I'm just busy tonight; now can you tell me where Lily is or I'll go find her myself?" he ordered. He wasn't in the mood for games tonight, and Natalie glanced at the computer, clicking on the mouse.

"She must be in the office; she's not booked with anyone." James took that as his answer and padded off, not giving Natalie the time of day. She huffed, rolling her eyes, and went off into the back room.

Since meeting Mary, she was all he could think about, and his taste for Natalie or any of the other girls was slowly going out the window. Last night, it took a big jump. If anything, he wanted Mary to be up in his room with him, rope tied around her beautiful body, cuffs adorning her wrists and ankles, and a gag placed in her pretty mouth while he reeked his dominance over her and had her begging and screaming Sir to him.

But she wasn't ready; she was nowhere near that stage, and he wondered if she ever would be. Hell, he was going to have to wait a while for her to have sex with him, and she was pretty sure she wasn't going to until marriage.

Marriage—it was something he never thought about. He always thought he was going to be one of those guys who never settles for anyone, that he could have anyone he wanted whenever. But meeting Mary was starting to change that for me. She was all he wanted, and being the greedy man he was, he was going to have her.

He took the elevator to the top floor, making his way down to the office. He had converted one of the suits into an office for him and Lily to use, mostly just for business regarding finance, stock, and the medical records of the girls. He took damn good care of them and provided them with the best wage they could earn.

He didn't bother to knock on the office door, as it was his own as well as Lily's, and pushed the door open, only to stop in his tracks in surprise.

Lily was sitting in one of the plush chairs, her legs stretched out and behind her, held by the young sub in front of her. William was a young boy, trying to make it in the wall street business, and somehow ended up being submissive to Lily. He had dirty blond hair and was thin around the body. The welts on his ass had turned to blotchy bruises, and it was clear this was from a few days ago. He was currently tending to his mistress's feet, rubbing the soles with his hands, and pressing light kisses on them.

But the sudden opening of the office door caused him to turn abruptly, his cheeks heating up instantly at the humiliation of someone walking in on them, and he stopped what he was doing.

"Don't stop; I didn't tell you to stop." Lily scolded him, kicking him with her other foot, and he gulped, turning back to his duty.

"I'm sorry, mistress," he whimpered, and he returned to rubbing her feet.

James closed the door, slightly smirking at the sight. He was no stranger to this; he'd seen men like William being dominated by powerful women before. It was the whole point of his club that men could come to either be dominant or be dominated by beautiful women. And certainly not with Lily.

"I didn't know you were coming today," she said as James threw himself in one of the other plush chairs opposite, folding his leg over.

"I'm only here on business," he clarified softly, and Lily grinned.

"Oh, is it that girl?" she said. James chuckled softly under his breath, looking to the floor as he smirked.

"Maybe," he shrugged. He was a man who didn't like to admit things.

"So it is... you like her," Lily grinned, and James huffed. She wasn't wrong. He does like her.

"She was around mine last night," he said.

"Of course she was; you fucked her?' she asked.

"No, I told you she's innocent; she's waiting until marriage for sex, but that doesn't mean I can't do anything else," he said rather smugly, and Lily was surprised.

"Wow, I'm surprised you were able to hold back," she teased, and James rolled his eyes. Again, she wasn't wrong.

"You want a drink?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Go and make James a drink." Lily snatched her foot away from William's hand and shoved him with it, ordering him to get James a drink.

"Yes, mistress," he answered softly, crawling from the floor to the drinks stand and pouring a glass of Whiksey. James smirked, glancing over at Lily, his fingers tapping on the arm rest as he waited. William turned and walked over slowly, holding the glass carefully, and handed it to James. He kept his eyes away, not because he was instructed to, but because of the sheer humiliation of standing naked in front of this powerful man with his cock wrapped in red rope. His balls separated, so they were almost turning blue, and his cock stood on edge.

"Thank you," he murmured as he delicately took the glass and sipped it, watching intently as William returned to the floor to hide his embarrassed face.

"Anway, how is business?" he asked.

"We've been good this month, very busy. The girls are booked for the next month; I'm wondering if we should employ new girls so the girls don't feel so overwelmed," she suggested.

"Sure, whatever you think we need. How's our finances?" he asked.

"We're more than on track. I've paid the wages, and then the rest can go into the business. We've made good money this month," she smiled.

"Well, I know I can count on you." Lily was the best person to run this business for him, and he could go months without checking on it and it would still be on track.

"So I guess you're finished with Natalie?" She asked, and James threw back the last of his drinks, licking his lips.

"So," he shrugged. He wasn't sad about it or anything; she was just there to keep him company.

'So I'm just saying because you know how she gets".

"What jealousy! She knew we weren't serious. I only went with her because she knows what I like and it's easy; besides, I'll tell her that I don't need her to serve me any longer and she can find someone else." James wasn't going to be all nice and cuddly about it; his interest was in Mary now, and Natalie was going to have to accept that.

"Well, you know she likes the attention of knowing she's your sub," Lily pointed out, and James scoffed, laughing softly.

"I'll tell her when I go down; there's plenty of guys she already subs for that would probably like to see her more often," he said, and Lily shrugged.

"Okay," she said softly.

James trotted down the stairs and walked to the reception, hoping Natalie was there, which she was. She was resting her head lazily in her palm as she sat at the desk.

"Hey," he said, and she looked over lazily.

"What? You changed your mind," she said, and James sighed.

"I need to talk to you," he said softly, and Natalie turned, crossing her arms with a slight smirk.

"Oh, you need to talk to me, sir.".

"I'm being serious," he said, and her smirk fell.

"Listen, I won't be requiring your service to me anymore," Natalie blinked in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she groaned.

"What I mean is you won't need to sub for me anymore," he said simply.

"Why?" She snapped, and normally James would have sternly corrected her, but she wasn't his sub any more.

"Because I'm with someone now," he answered.

"So that's it; you just chuck me to the side like I'm nothing. I knew something was up with you, and you left it till now to tell me," she huffed.

"I'm telling you now, and I told you there was nothing serious with us; I enjoyed you being my sub, and only that," he said rather sternly.

"So who is she, some other sub in this buidling?" She raised her voice. She was well-and-truly pissed.

"Not that it's your business, but no, she's not another sub. Besides, there are plenty of guys you can sub for, and I wasn't your only dom."

"Oh, thanks," she said sarcastically, and James groaned. He had enough of this conversation.

"You take this however you want, Natalie, but I'm telling you this is over," he said finally.

"Whatever, fuck you," she spat and turned on her heel, walking into the back room. He didn't have the energy or time to carry on fighting with her, and although he technically was her boss, he just wanted to leave. He was going to stand and have petty arguments with little brats like her. He turned and stormed his way out of the hotel into his waiting car.

Chapter 18

Hey I written you guys a nice long chapter seeing as I haven't updated for a while, I hope you like it, let me know what you think in the comments

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