#I wonder how catholic boy will do

[silly-fox-in-sox]

What a cool old boy he was. 

[theamazingannie]

Idk if I’m just incapable of writing straight characters or if the gods have just spoken through me but I’ve been writing one of my few straight girl characters and realizing more and more that this girl is gay af and it’s a problem cuz I’ve already got her whole arc planned out of the different guys she dates and her endgame guy and there’s really no room for a sensible gay awakening but I’m worried she might be a lesbian lmao

[carlyraejepsans]

when i was around 9 my family cat died and i was understandably upset about it. so a few days later in my elementary catholic class (italian thing. ask mussolini about it and then hang him again) i drew a picture of "what i thought heaven looked like". and what heaven looked like to me was god standing around with an arm around jesus' shoulders being like "and THEN my wonderful son did this..." with jesus looking visibly embarrassed, because that's how a good dad is supposed to act, while all the angels and souls of the departed sat at their feet looking impressed in their wings and haloes. various pets being among them, such as my cat, my grandpa's old dog etc, also behaloed and winged. except when i went to show my drawing to the teacher explaining my artistic thought process, she looked at it and went "nice. but animals don't go to heaven because they don't have souls like us."

i wish. oh how i wish every day of my life that i'd been the hypersensitive, quick-to-tears kid that would've undoubtedly triggered a whole class religious schism when my classmates found out why i was screaming and sobbing my eyes out. but alas, i just discarded her theological theory altogether. what a silly woman she was. she must've never had pets, otherwise she'd clearly know they DO have a soul. boy, was she gonna get a surprise when she got to heaven.

now that i think back on it, you have to laugh at the heartless, eye-opening cruelty of looking a grieving child in the eye and saying "sorry kid, little mina's not getting into heaven." what a succinct summary of catholicism. anyway, I'm not christian anymore.

[bamgyw]

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ c.bg; six nights ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

summary: six nights of emo boy gyu sneaking into your room without your daddy knowing. aberrational catholic guilt ridden catcher in the rye wannabe porn document. afab reader x softdom!beomgyu. warnings: everything, unfortunately. minors dni. heavy smut ahead. lots of pretentious writing, too. catholic guilt and imagery. abusive behaviour, parental neglect. drug use. violence. everyone is sad. i’ll keep on updating part-specific tags. index: prologue: the house of god, first night, second night, third night, fourth night, fifth night, sixth night, dawn of the seventh.

prologue: the house of god

when daddy wanted to hide something from you, he would turn to his beloved bible. and ever since you turned fourteen, he had been holding on to a passage that he would repeat to you every night before going to sleep: 

"let no one say when tempted, "i am being tempted by god," for god tempts no one. but each person is tempted when lured by his own desire. then desire gives birth to sin, and sin brings forth death."

that is the only sex talk your daddy ever gave you. it was more of a sex mantra than a talk, or a warning, or even a prohibition. just a rule of nature that he wanted you to have engraved in your mind: desire is sin, and sin is death.

when daddy didn't want you to do something, he'd blame the rule on god. and there's little you could say against that. 

as you grew up, you realised that god might not be real, but daddy most certainly was. a punitive, disciplinary god. and one feels much more compelled to obey divine rule when god lives under your roof. when you can touch him, and he can touch you.

when god lives in your house and his wrath can tear your flesh apart not in hell, not in heaven, but in this life; you become more cautious than the most devoted of christians. so even when everyone in your grade started drinking, dating, having sex; you had it very clear that the priority was to protect yourself. not from the dangers of drinking, dating, or sex; but from daddy, that is to say, from god.

none of your friends from school understood it, that the fear of god was not irrational. you had scars and bruises that god had given you which you could perfectly show them. but then daddy would get in trouble. besides, he wouldn't like you showing your body around. 

none of them could ever understand what living with god was like, so they were the kind of people who would ask that stupid question; if god loves us, why does he hurt us? 

the first person to understand god was a boy called choi soobin. 

daddy had remarried choi soobin’s mom the year before you started college. she was a beautiful woman, lively and hopeful to start a second life after becoming a widow. it must be thrilling to get a chance at a second life when your first one has gone wrong. soobin’s mom could have been very happy in another universe. you felt sorry that she had stepped into daddy‘s trap. 

you had always wondered how daddy had managed to get a woman like her. bright, cultured and affectionate. but then you figured that maybe, as he was god, he didn't necessarily need to be yahweh, or elohim. he could also be zeus and disguise himself as a swan to kidnap and rape leda. 

you found out later that soobin‘s mom had never fully recovered from the passing of her first husband, and she often suffered from major depressive episodes. daddy saw that void in her, and her urgency to fill it. he forced himself into the hollowness of the void, and obstructed her veins, bones, and heart with the word of god.

soon enough, soobin’s mom had no limb or internal organ she controlled herself. she had once had colours, you remembered; rosy cheeks, a hazel head of hair, lips tinted with vibrant red. but daddy had turned her grey. 

soobin’s mom had been kind enough to see the good sides of daddy, you had liked her for that. but you regretted that she hadn't learned to hide her colors so that daddy couldn't steal them away, like you did. 

she became a shadow of herself, an almost non-verbal phantom trapped between the real world –that is, the confines of daddy's house– and the world of hopeful prayers and the salvation of soul.

the boy called choi soobin would never forgive daddy for that. but it was alright. you understood. in a sense, he had killed his mom. you had to love daddy because he had created you, but you didn't think choi soobin was obliged to. 

people said choi soobin had changed, too. that he used to be a gentle kid, polite and sweet, but he had turned hostile. that, like most teens, he had become self-absorbed and belligerent without a cause or that he had gotten those adolescent mood changes so late in his life because he was an attention seeker. people say things like that when they don't understand what living with god is like.

you were the only one who didn't believe daddy when he said that soobin had a demon inside. you knew better than that, you knew that daddy saw demons everywhere. but soobin’s own mom believed it. when daddy tried to exorcise the demon away from soobin with fist and blood, she looked away.

all that soobin had wanted by acting up against daddy was to save his mom. to bring her back from the dead. but after that betrayal, he stopped trying. 

soobin had never been violent towards you, though. not once. not even mean. you were the only one who understood him, the only one who told him he wasn't evil. you knew that god's tyrannical rule could break a person, fill them with hate. and so soobin and you became close, often talking against god. every whispered defamation, every blasphemy, the danger of it felt so exciting. not because of the mischievous sin, or because of the disobedience, but because you felt like you could speak your mind at last.

your first kiss was soobin. you felt loved when it happened, something you realised you weren't used to. the feeling bloomed throughout the following week as you hid from god's watchful eye to be together.

soobin told you a hundred times that you were the most beautiful girl in the world, kissing all over your face, clasping you as close to him as he humanly could. he would sneak his hand under your skirt and whisper, "don't think about him right now. it's just you and me." and though his touch never went very far in the magnitude scale of sin and punishment, it was enough to breathe a new life into you.

you sensed that a big part of why soobin wanted you so bad was because he got turned on at the idea of defying daddy, and groping his holy daughter was the greatest offence he could commit. but that was alright. you felt the same way. and you hoped that that hate-induced lust would turn into love, in time. you could then be happier, even in the house of god. 

or you could have been happier. because god is omnipresent. and he would soon act to see you separated. the blossoming flower was brutally ripped from the soil.

when daddy found out, he locked himself into the master bedroom with soobin one morning and didn't let him go until the sun began to hide. soobin left that room broken and dead in life, just like his mom, but he didn't have one single bruise. maybe daddy really was god, after all.

soobin never talked to you again. spoken, yes, but it was hollow. you never felt loved again. you learned a lesson that day: your pleasure brings pain to everyone around. the mantra became true. desire is sin, and sin is death.

so if there was any need left in your body to touch, to kiss, to lick, to possess or be possessed; you confined it to the darkest pit of your ribcage, way past your heart, never to be accessed again. 

until choi beomgyu came around.

he was the second person to understand god. but he had brought his lesson learned from home. he knew god’s ways even before he met daddy. he had a god of his own. you called yours daddy, he called his ‘that narcissistic sadist’. but strangely enough, you felt like they meant the same thing. 

choi beomgyu was sort of soobin's friend, if you could even call it that. they never labeled each other as such, never sought out each other's company for the sake of friendship. they just wanted to live through their loneliness while sitting in the same room.

beomgyu’s dad was a dealer. he made a living out of ruining people's lives, as beomgyu saw it. growing up, he had promised himself that he would never be like that, the kind of person who doesn't care about poisoning someone's body if that meant keeping the cash flowing. but as he grew up, he learned that it wasn't all black or white. that all of those fools kept showing at his father’s doorstep, like they had no other choice. like they enjoyed hurting themselves. 

beomgyu, like soobin, had become hateful. one of the things that bothered him the most was the "why me?" question. how unlucky he could have been to be born of such a father. but then again, he could run away. he could sort his shit out, get a job, never see his father again. but he kept going back. like he had no choice. like he, too, enjoyed hurting himself.

his dad barely knew he existed, and if beomgyu ever tried to make himself heard, he would silence him in cold blood. so any semblance of love or validation beomgyu could aspire to, he sought out with mathematically strategised plans. he craved the drug of attention and knew exactly where to get it.

he'd linger around fancy schools and church events, scoping out a certain type of girl. there was always a few of them going through a rebellious phase, desperate to go out with a bad boy and piss off their high-official dad. 

it didn't take much effort for him to get what he wanted. he was handsome enough to make it easy, and even though he was a spiteful nihilist, he could be charming on command. just a smirk, a tousle of the hair, and some cheesy lines like, "i'm messed up, but with you, i feel like maybe i could be better," or "you're too beautiful for a screw-up like me." and he would have them wrapped around his finger. 

he would bring them over to his place and fuck them rough on his drug-money-bought mattress. if there was shouting, or a gunshot coming from another part of the house, he'd fuck into them harder, muffling their fear with a rough kiss, using their panic to fuel his own twisted thrill. you fucking scared? i've gone through this crap every day since i was a kid. 

if he could crack the shell of a privileged princess, dragging someone along with him down to his mud, his pain would slightly numb out.

for just a little, but never enough.

that pattern of behavior didn't lead to happiness. not even to satisfaction. it was a vindictive way of muffling his pain with the aching moans of someone who had it easier. but in reality, it only pierced what was left of his soul, making him even more hollow. it was soobin who made him realize that.

until that day, beomgyu saw soobin as almost a kid—pitifully weak and too sheltered. but when he told him about his exploits of going after posh girls, soobin didn't applaud in shared bitterness as he often did.

beomgyu explained to him how hard he got seeing the fear in their eyes as they realised that the life he led, that freedom of the rebel, wasn't as cute and bohemian as they had romanticised.

soobin responded curtly. "and then what? you cum, the spell wears off and you stare at the ceiling in silence, thinking of how miserable you are." he said. "and then you feel guilty for being a piece of shit and using that girl as a blow-up doll. and because of that you feel even worse about yourself, which means becoming more hateful and ruining more people. its not a you thing, you're not that special. that loop has been said and done. probably how your dad feels after beating on you."

beomgyu was taken aback. he didn’t even find it in himself to get offended. he remained pensive for a while before saying, "hyung. do you think i'm a bad person?"

soobin replied; "i think you can choose not to be."

and beomgyu took the advice. he put an end to the hunter-gathering of rich girls. he respected soobin from then on, too. soobin had therefore been a good influence, one could say. or at least an influence beomgyu was willing to accept. he started hanging around your house more, to the point of almost never leaving.

you learned about him as if he were a mythological figure—someone everyone talked about but whose existence you couldn't confirm. as a friend of soobin, beomgyu was bound from the start by an unspoken rule to maintain the least possible contact with you.

beomgyu was made aware of that rule very early on. what he didn't know, because he had been misled, was your age. that's why he didn't think much of it at first; he thought you were a kid. so, whatever—he couldn't talk to soobin’s annoying little stepsister. big deal. he didn't care about kids anyway.

this, combined with the prison-like structure of daily life in that house—minimal time in common areas and endless hours rotting in your own cell—fulfilled daddy's command to keep your life and soobin's, and therefore boemgyu’s, completely separate.

but even though you hadn't seen choi beomgyu in person, you had been able to construct a fairly accurate forensic portrait of him, pieced together from your father's warnings about people like him.

about the piercings, daddy believed that the body is holy, and anyone capable of mutilating within sin. about the music they played when locked up for whole afternoons in soobin’s room, he believed that god is serene, and disturbing that peace is a sign of the devil. he considered long hair on a man an abomination, and much like the eccentric clothes, a mark of a sodomite.

daddy didn't approve of him, and saw him as no more than a threat to the sanctity of his home. but beomgyu was quick to remedy the situation.

beomgyu was most acquainted to the ways of gods. he knew they were capricious, proud and pathologically narcissistic. so he made sure daddy could see he was a troubled young man and played the role of the lamb seeking guidance. he convinced daddy that he could abduct him, like he had done with soobin and his mother.

when soobin recounted the scene to you, his voice had sounded more hopeful, more full of admiration than you had ever heard. "he went to your dad and talked to him as if he was the buddha. said that he was lost and needed someone to guide him on the right path." soobin said. "he had some quotes from the prodigal son parabole learned, and he just delivered so naturally. not a trace of shame because when he lied to his face like that. it was like watching a play. your dad bought everything."

from then on, beomgyu became an unsung hero in your eyes. the boy who had outmanipulated daddy into having it his way. the boy who had defeated god.

around halloween that year, beomgyu and his dad had a terminal fight. it ended on a threat so destructive that beomgyu thought it was for the better if he stayed away from his father's place for a couple days. maybe a week. soobin, knower of the impotence and humiliation of having to sleep under the roof of the one who lacerated you and torn you to pieces, offered him shelter.

daddy's eyes lit up with greed. he saw the definitive chance to welcome a prodigal son into the fold. for beomgyu it was almost a joke. he was amused at how fast daddy allowed him in. so clueless and hasty, like one of the girls he used to charm into his bed.

in truth, beomgyu wasn't even to blame when he inevitably bumped into you. it had been daddy's mistake, he had let him in himself. you thought maybe that made daddy more human, somehow. that he forgot to close the back door to the prison and the devil strolled in.

but it wasn't really a matter of having let his guard down. daddy was still as stern, still as disciplinary, still as paranoid as he had always been. choi beomgyu was just much smarter than daddy.

he was a demigod, he was a promise. he was soon to make you his.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next part

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ please let me know if you think reading about booty sex is gross (i'm doing market research)

[piratefishmama]

Angel | Steddie Oneshot

Eddie Munson never believed that he’d go to Heaven. Sure he’d been raised in a catholic household, his uncle was religious, he’d been raised to give thanks for the food they ate, to pray before bed that should he not wake, his soul the lord take an all that jazz.

Wouldn’t believe it to look at him, to hear the songs he sang, the music he played. Wouldn’t believe how he’d been raised if one were to go by covers instead of contents.

But despite his upbringing in the very catholic Munson Trailer of Forest Hills Trailer Park, he never believed he’d go to heaven. Something about queers and submitting to sin and blah blah blah it’d been a long-ass time since his last confession, but Uncle Wayne stopped reminding him a few years back, so he had an excuse to keep ‘forgetting’ to do it.

Turns out, one did not need to go to confession to make it to heaven!

Angels would just. Turn up, apparently.

Maybe he’d done something good that he wasn’t aware of, he did go to that Make A Wish thing a few weeks back, DM’d a whole one shot for the kids, he’d spent hours there, a whole dang day just… hanging out with sick kids.

Maybe that was it. Maybe that was what brought this heavenly creature to his side.

To cut a long story short, he was on stage one minute, belting out the lyrics from the final verse of the last song in their set ‘Into the Underdark’, Jeff was slipping into the ending guitar solo, Eddie was gearing up for an end of gig crowd surf and the next.

The next he was looking into a bright, blinding light that kept moving between his eyes.

He’d always been told not to go to the light. If you see it? Don’t go to it, going to it would make whatever trip you were going on a one way ticket, there was no going back when you reached that light. Just hang back, wait for the resuscitation, it’d happen, someone would breathe life back into you, or whack you with enough voltage to get that heart kickin again, just don’t go into that light.

That light was way too close to his eyes, and he couldn’t swat it away. His arms felt tied down. Rude.

And then the light was gone, had he reached it? Was that it? One way ticket stub punched, sorry Earth, Munson out. “Mr Munson? Can you hear me?” Oh what heavenly chorus, the light had momentarily blinded him but shit… when his sight came back, at least enough to make out the vague shape of a very square jaw, of angular features, of warm hazel eyes, and a luscious head of hair surrounded by a halo of brilliant white light.

Angel. He had an audience with an Angel. It could only be an Angel. Neat.

He’d enjoy the ‘I Told You So’ he got from his uncle whenever the old goat made it up there he hoped it wouldn’t be soon though, he’d prefer a longer wait than a short one, thanks.

“Mnn… I hear you big boy, are you sure I’m in the right place though? I’ve been told Heaven wouldn’t want me” it sounded smooth in his head, but he was pretty sure he slurred half the words.

How could he have a slurred voice in Heaven? That didn’t seem fair.

Oh he’d forgive the slurred speech bit if the angel kept making that wonderful music with his vocal chords, that little giggle of a laugh, so bubbly and sweet, yep. Somehow he’d weaselled his way into Heaven. Suck it soccer moms. “Well, at least you can summon the strength to be charming.”

He was charming? An angel thought he was charming? Hell yeah, he’d rock this heaven shit, he already had an in with the big, winged boys!

“I can summon the strength for other stuff too, worship ain’t ever really been my thing but, baby I think I can learn for a literal Angel” he’d subject himself to an afterlife on his knees gladly if it meant he’d have his hands curled around this creature’s thighs, his mouth on—

“Oh wow…” Eddie couldn’t really see it properly thanks to the lovely blinding spots in his eyes that was no doubt his eyes adjusting to heavenly light, but he was sure his angel was blushing, he sounded a little breathless. Good. “You’re uh… wow”

Eddie hadn’t had much charm before becoming world famous but, he’d gained a little experience. Women and men alike throwing themselves at him, knowing he wasn’t all that fussed, babes were babes. All genders welcome to hop on and take a ride. He knew it was mostly the fame, he was still the same nerd he’d been back in high school, but… if fame got him laid then fame got him laid.

At the very least it gave him the experience to flirt with one of Gods pretty little birds. Maybe even score if the reaction he got was any indication.

So much for lust being a punishable sin, huzzah.

Steve was having a day. Okay no, Steve was having a whole week. The only upside to his overtime riddled ass, was that Robin had been on the majority of his shifts with him, so they could at least talk in the ambulance while they roamed the streets waiting for chaos to drop.

Monday, it’d been a seven car pileup on the highway, a few lost limbs, no fatalities but one hell of a close call on two accounts.

Tuesday, it’d been a tumble at a care home resulting in a popped hip and some heavy flirting from a few old ladies. Poor Robin suffering it from a few old men trying to shoot a shot they didn’t have.

Wednesday it’d been crisis after crisis resulting in him not finishing his shift until six hours after he was meant to finish his shift.

Thursday he had one blessed night off, thankfully his on-call status hadn’t dragged him in, and he got a decent six hour nap in.

Friday, another car wreck, he didn’t want to think about that one.

And now Saturday.

Dispatch sent them to the sold out arena, some idiot had leapt off the stage likely for a crowd surf, his foot tangled in an amp chord, it reduced his air time dramatically and he brained himself on one of the guard rails.

Excellent. At least he wasn’t dead.

Which given how easily one could wind up six feet under from such a whack to the head, he was lucky.

They parked by the side exit, shuffled in by security, and right through into the arena. The patient hadn’t been moved as per dispatchers instructions to the person who’d called. No moving the idiot until the professionals arrived and determined it safe.

Cameras, flashing lights, big beefy security guards standing in front of them blocking the majority of what was happening from view, there was… quite a bit of blood there. It didn’t look pretty in that lighting. “The crowd’s too much, let’s get him to the ambulance.” Robin’s patience didn’t exist when it came to large crowds.

Too many people. Plus she’d been on shift five hours longer than he had.

“Alright, you two, c’mere” Steve singled out two of the big security guys “we’re gonna need you to help us get him onto the gurney, we’ll look him over in the back of the ambulance.” There were no broken bones, nothing stopping them from moving him just enough to get him to the ambulance unscathed.

And then, somewhere between writing out paperwork, checking vitals, and Robin googling who this guy was, said guy… woke up.

Steve, being closer, was quick to check responsiveness, pupils reacted well to light although a concussion did look likely, they’d cleaned up the blood and found the cause to be a cut just above his left eyebrow that’d probably make a kickass scar and oh.

Without the blood. Oh. Oh he was pretty. Pretty plump lips, long lashes, deep brown eyes, faint freckles across his nose. All that hair. He was pretty.

“Mr Munson? Can you hear me?” He’d asked, while shining that little torch into those pretty brown eyes, left to right to check the responsiveness. And then he spoke and Steve— well. Robin was eyeballing him judgementally pretty damn hard given how fast his face flamed red.

Her head in her hands, her fingers plugged into her ears as Munson rattled off promises of worship and good lord— Steve didn’t know what to say, what to do, what does one do when a hot yet slightly delirious rockstar offers to worship your ‘angelic body’?

What does one do with that?

One awkwardly stutters through thanks while bright red and toasty until they can part with the guy at the ER wishing he’d met him under better circumstances cause it’d been a long ass time since anyone even touched him let alone worshipped him but accepting that he’d probably never see the guy again, so it didn’t really matter.

Until a few days later when the official Corroded Coffin account slid into his DM’s on Instagram, apologised profusely, and requested very sweetly to make it up to him with dinner the next time he was free.

Signed Eddie. With a little angel emoji. How on earth could he say no to that?

[hyufucks]

𓆩♡𓆪 dry humping ` w/soobin !

c. warning(s) — catholicism!au, dry humping, sub/dom dinamics, boobs/nipple play, corruption kink.

w. count — +8k (i'm so sorry)

✦ minors do not interact.

the first time you saw him, you thought he was the cutest and pretty boy you've ever seen. his pretty glasses made him look prettier than he already was, his dimples that stood out notoriously and his beautiful smile made you lose your sanity little by little.

and of course, you wanted to corrupt him.

you knew through loose tongues that the dear choi soobin is a virgin, literally a virgin. he was never touched by anyone, he never gave his first kiss and he never had his first orgasm.

you wondered how someone so beautiful and hot at the same time never did one of those things in his twenty one years.

then you remember that he is a catholic and that his father works as a priest, in addition to the fact that his mother and older brother are part of the church choir, which you attend every sunday.

of course, the fact that he is a virgin because of his religion has nothing to do with it, since you are also a catholic and yet you have already experienced the things that were previously mentioned.

you almost gave up hope of having any kind of affair with him. until, incredibly unexpectedly, soobin talked to you about his curiosity about the things you did.

and in that very moment, you knew that things would end differently than they began.

“and hey, how does it feel to have a you know…” soobin tried to finish the sentence, but his lips were automatically repressed and his cheeks heated.

"an orgasm? it's pretty amazing if you're with the right person" you answered with total nonchalance, but inside you were itching to kiss his lips and touch every part of his body "but soobin, have you ever jerked off?" this time your tone was more curious, anxiously awaiting his response.

the boy opened his eyes as wide as he could when he heard that question. you noticed how his face became even redder and how he swallowed every moment.

he adjusted his tie slightly before opening his mouth to reply i-i tried, but i couldn't. i didn't think it was right thinking about..."

"thinking about what?" you interrupted him when you noticed that he was again not going to finish the sentence.

he looked into your eyes and then looked away again and sighed loudly "thinking of y-you".

there was a silence for about two minutes in which you could perfectly hear soobin's heart pounding, clenching his fists.

you approached him and took his face with your hands, forcing him to look at you. you caressed his warm soft skin, smiling sweetly at him.

"can i kiss you, pretty boy?" you asked close to his lips and slowly. He nodded repeatedly as he closed his eyes, letting your lips and his connect for the first time.

your dream of kissing him came true. and his dream of being kissed by you also came true.

you moved your lips gently so that soobin knows how to pick up the rhythm little by little, caressing the hairs on the nape of his neck and pulling gently, causing him to moan against your lips.

you smiled in the middle of the kiss as you felt his hands holding your hips and pulling you closer to his. you intensified the kiss once he got used to the rhythm, creating desperate movements from both of you.

you separated slightly from him, looking into his eyes, noticing that his became slightly dark.

"honey, will you let me touch you?" you asked gently. he nodded again, but you denied "use your words".

"y-yes. you can touch me" he replied embarrassed. you smiled again before reconnecting your lips with his.

slowly your hand traveled to his chest and you rubbed circles with your fingertips, touching his toned abs.

then your hand moved carefully down to his thigh, resting there and squeezing gently, earning you a sigh from him.

you finally directed your hand to his growing bulge, feeling his erection in need of attention. you pressed there carefully and gently, making soobin moan desperately.

"can i do something that will benefit us both?"

when he accepted, you took his hand and led him to another part of the building. you asked him to sit on the confessional chair, obeying instantly.

his eyes widened and he felt the lump form in his throat as he saw you snuggled up on top of his coming bulge, slamming your center into him.

his hands automatically went to your waist, and yours went to the back of his neck, drawing him closer to you.

"binnie, do you trust me?" he nodded slowly with a shy smile on his face "good, but tell me if you want to stop at some point".

his eyes snapped shut and his mouth opened slightly as you began to rub against him, creating a painfully arousing friction.

you grabbed his tie and yanked it forward, crashing your lips to his again. His movements were still a bit clumsy and inexperienced, but you honestly didn't care at all.

both were enjoying this moment. both were living out their own dreams and fantasies.

soobin tightened his grip on your waist, digging his nails and forcing you to move faster than before. you smiled in the middle of the kiss at his desperation, surprised that he's so needy.

you broke the kiss to guide your lips to his neck, gently sucking and biting at his perfectly manicured skin.

he moaned audibly as you sank your teeth into his flesh, turning him into a burst of low moans and groans.

your kisses moved up to his jaw, his cheeks and close to his lips, just at the corner.

"soobin, you can touch me if you want" you whispered close to his face without stopping moving. he nodded enthusiastically, looking embarrassed at your breasts, swallowing a bit.

his hands left your waist and went to your breasts, touching them softly and fearfully, looking into your eyes to see if he was doing it right.

"that's it, baby. apply more pressure if you wish. don't be shy…"

he obeyed almost instantly, squeezing your breasts a little tighter, feeling incredibly good to finally touch what he always wanted.

his fingers caught your hard nipples and he caressed them gently. his mouth practically watered as he watched your breasts move slightly with each movement you made on his tight bulge.

he met your eyes once more before working up enough courage to tilt his head down slightly, connecting his plump, wet lips with one of your nipples.

you sighed audibly and took a handful of his hair, burying his face even deeper between your breasts.

he moaned against the fabric that covered your nipples as he heard you gasp for him, causing his lower belly to vibrate and heat as time passed.

"just like that, binnie" you congratulated him and incited him to continue "what a good boy you are, aren't you?" he nodded happily at your compliment, warming his cheeks.

you put one of your hands on his knee, leaning back a little to get another angle and position. your hips continued to move at a faster pace, working your wet center right up against his sticky tip, increasing the need for both of you to orgasm.

you took his face in your hands and forced his mouth to disconnect from your nipple. His lips formed an adorable pout at having stopped his movements.

"how are you feeling soobin?" you asked with a broken voice "remember when i described to you the moment in which a person has an orgasm? how his body acts and how it feels?" he nodded quickly "do you feel that way now, darling?"

"i feel like i'm about to explode..." he murmured, pressing your hips tighter again "i feel good, but I need to release something that is inside of me".

you kissed him again, biting his lips as you felt your legs and stomach vibrate from the warm sensation of the approaching orgasm.

"you're about to have an orgasm, love" you warned him between moans and with heavy breathing "just let yourself go, okay? don't be afraid. i'm here with you".

soobin hid his face in the crook of your neck, paying attention to you and letting himself be carried away by the wave of pleasure that his body was having. he sobbed softly and his body stiffened as he felt his pants and underwear get stained by his hot cum, making your underwear and lower thighs sooaking as well.

the feeling and thought of helping him have his first orgasm made your body tense as well, squeezing his shoulder and hair.

you felt your orgasm hit you hard, clouding your vision, covering your ears with muffled sounds, letting your lips escape a loud moan.

you kept sitting on him for a moment, kissing every part of his face before reaching his lips, pressing a soft, chaste kiss.

you stood up as best you could with your legs shaking and helped soobin stand up too. you caressed his face and kissed the tip of his nose, smiling sweetly at him.

"you did a good job, sweetheart." you ruffled his hair and he laughed softly at the caress and compliment.

soon you felt his arms around your waist to form a hug, hiding his face again in your neck.

"you were right" he said quietly, almost to himself "an orgasm feels pretty amazing if you're with the right person".

your face heated up and you formed a happy smile at his comment, not knowing that he was the same as you.

[peachhcs]

the perfect moment

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

someone requested will and samy's first time, so after trying to write it for nearly a month, it's finished! again, please read at your own risk, this is very explicit!!

3.6k words

warnings: 18+, smut with a tiny bit of plot, but like all of this is smut again. p in v (protected!), slight handjob, hair pulling, sucking on boobs, a bit of praising, very consensual, making out, hickeys, grinding, i think that's it??

this is how i pictured samy and will's first time going! because will's whole life was hockey, he never really had time for a lot of experimenting. there's small talk of religion in this (idk if will was/is actually catholic but somewhere i thought he was. take it all with a grain of salt, this is just how i thought it would go/how will and samy would be :))

au masterlist

one of the last days before summer ended and will couldn't stop thinking about one thing.

will's eyes glued themselves to samy's lips and the way she applied chapstick making her pink lips even more pink and glossier. he couldn't look away even if he wanted to because all he could think about was kissing that chapstick right off and the feeling of her plump lips against his own.

something had the blonde's brain wired up the past couple of days.

he couldn't stop staring. everything samy did, will's eyes were on her. drinking water? staring. playing volleyball? staring. jumping into the lake? oh, will was definitely staring.

he just couldn't tear his eyes away no matter how hard he tried. something was making the blonde's brain go haywire. he'd get worked up over the littlest thing like seeing the brunette in one of his boston college t-shirts and just her swimsuit. one second he'd look and the next he'd be painfully hard.

will felt like a fucking fifteen-year-old again going through the stages of puberty and getting hard at almost everything. he felt pathetic, really—stepping away to relieve the ache in his cock because him and samy have only been dating for two and a half months and the farthest they've gone was making out with shirts off.

he didn't know what too soon was and he did not want to make her uncomfortable with his weird boyish desires that had been creeping up a lot more lately.

so will suffered in silence and it was fine for a few days until him and samy caught themselves in a heated make out session while everyone was outside.

the boy nipped harshly at her lips, tugging her hips impossibly closer against his own. samy giggled—music to will's ears. her own fingers danced around in his hair, twisting it and tugging at the roots leaving the hockey player to see stars.

she shifted against him and will's boner pressed against her thigh. whether she noticed it or not, she didn't say anything. usually, neither of them would mention it when they started making out and they'd ignore it, but this time was different.

"are you always this hard?" samy breathed against will's mouth, pulling apart slightly.

"w-what?" the boy stuttered out earning a smile from the brunette.

"you're really hard," the girl commented making will blush embarrassingly hard—like whole face a tomato in seconds. he immediately shifted away from her, feeling embarrassed about how turned on he was from just kissing for five minutes.

"s-sorry?" he didn't really know what to say, but samy raised her eyebrow.

her boyfriend—a 6'0, forward, hockey player—was sorry that he was hard? she's known will her entire life for having such a hard outer shell—seeing him stand before her bright red and nervous seemed like such a different person than she's known, but samy didn't think it was a bad thing.

"why are you apologizing?" the girl laughed, pressing her hands against his torso.

"i-i don't know. i-i don't wanna make you uncomfortable?" will struggled finding the right words. he had a hard time reading samy's face which was rare considering how close they were.

"do you think i'm uncomfortable?" the girl wondered. will stared at her for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

"no.."

"you're right, i'm not. i think it's hot that you're hard. i mean, i'd be worried if you weren't," she laughed, easing some of the tension in the boy's shoulders.

the girl placed a finger on his chest, slowly dragging it down. she wanted to try something, watching the way a shaky breath escaped will's lips as he struggled to keep his eyes open under her touch.

the once stable boy seemed to crumble in her hands and boy, did that do something to samy's head and ego.

she carefully pushed the blonde back onto her bed where he stared up at her with a look in his eyes that was a mix of confusion and intrigue. a gentle smile spread across samy's lips knowing she wanted will to feel as comfortable as possible because at the end of the day, he was her best friend and the two have known each other since they were babies. this side of their relationship was still so fresh and new.

will's hands found their place on her hips as samy straddled his lap. this wasn't anything new. she was usually on his lap when their kiss became more heated, but right now, the feeling of her thighs pressed against both sides of will's legs did something to him. his hands shook while his heartbeat grew more rapid with each kiss they shared.

"you okay?" samy wondered between kisses. she could feel his rapid heartbeat from where her hands held their place at his neck.

"mhm, yeah," will managed between heavy breaths.

with that, samy continued kissing her boyfriend's lips while her fingers felt his silver chain beneath his shirt. she curled the metal around her one finger, slowly edging it out from under the shirt. the blonde was very aware of her hands on him, her touch like fire on his skin. the metal now dangled above his clothes along with the small cross pendent hanging off the end.

samy's hands dipped further down, attaching to will's neck and dragging back down his torso. a noise sounded from the back of will's throat that was a mix between a moan and whimper as samy's hand got dangerously close to where the boy wanted her touch the most. he's actually thought about this moment for weeks, always imaging it and hoping it'd become a reality.

finally, her hand palmed his bulge through his shorts. will's brain short-circuited, a loud "fuck" escaping his lips and then a "wait. wait."

samy immediately pulled her hand away, eyes jumping back up to her boyfriend's, "what?"

will's mouth worked faster than his brain, cursing to himself for making her stop before he could even think about it. his face flushed while samy searched his gaze worried she did something wrong or moved too fast. what she didn't know was that will wanted her to keep going. he just...how did he tell her this without her most definitely laughing at him?

"i-i've never..i've never done this..before.." the hockey player managed to get out.

a silence fell betweem them as samy took in his words and will quickly started internally panicking.

"oh."

that definitely wasn't the response will expected nor the statement samy expected from her boyfriend.

"oh? good oh? bad oh?" the boy searched her eyes, growing conscious of his revelation. maybe he shouldn't have told her.

"no, no, no. not a bad oh. just..surprising?" samy gently laughed, pulling her fingers through will's hair again. his eyes softened out, turning into puppy-dog eyes.

she did not think will was a virgin. the youngest hughes for sure thought will messed around in his dev years considering all of the girls that were always at the games and the ones his friends constantly talked about. he was a catch, so this news was very surprising to samy.

"oh," will muttered, unsure of how to feel, maybe embarrassed? ashamed?

hockey had always been will's number one. since he could walk, the only thing taking up space in his brain was hockey. hockey, hockey, hockey. girls was never something on the blonde's mind. not nearly as much as the sport he loved. wanting to be the best and prove how good he could be, will devoted all of his time to the ice which meant limiting his social interactions. it had always been that way and for awhile, will didn't mind. he went to an all boys school before moving to michigan, so it wasn't even a problem.

the status of his virginity or experience never mattered with who he was with because the guys were as locked in as he was—maybe not ryan when he started dating julianne, but their minds never wandered off too far. all of that changed when things in will's mind started shifting some years ago, when samy started taking up the spot hockey once did. soon, all his mind could think about was the girl he always saw as an annoying sister.

"hey, hey, don't feel embarrassed. it's normal," samy read the look on her boyfriend's face, quickly making him look at her. will just flushed even more under her stare.

virginity was a concept will heard a lot about growing up catholic. going to a catholic high school taught him a lot about "waiting until marriage" which wasn't something the boy entirely agreed with. his views definitely changed as he got older and thought less and less about his religion. obviously, not completely, though. the silver pendent dangling off his neck was a small reminder keeping him tied in, but that didn't mean he wanted him and samy to stop doing whatever they were about to do.

"h-have you..done this before?" will didn't even know if he wanted to know the answer. a pang of jealousy bubbled in his stomach at the idea of some other guy doing this with samy before he could.

"uh..yeah, but not a lot. like twice or something," samy quickly mumbled.

"oh."

"it was with that guy i dated briefly junior year. it wasn't anything crazy," the girl filled in making sure will knew she was no where near super experienced, but she knew a thing or two.

'"right," the blonde nodded. he remembered that guy a little too well, never really fond of him whenever he was around.

"we don't have to do this if you don't want to," samy said softly, caressing her boyfriend's cheek. he leaned into her touch.

"i want to..i just..i don't really know what to do past making out," will mumbled shyly, avoiding her gaze.

"that's okay. i can help," the girl encouraged with a smile. the hockey player met her eyes seeing how reassuring they looked.

"okay," he mumbled, smiling.

with that, samy attached her lips back to will's lips. the two shared another passionate kiss, the blonde's confidence slowly returning as he worked his tongue into the girl's mouth. she hummed, slowly dragging her hands through his curls before shifting lower again.

will felt drunk on her kisses. he never wanted the feeling of her lips against his to stop. his breath caught in his throat when samy's hand returned to the bulge in his pants.

"do you trust me?" the girl wondered. will nodded.

"gotta say it, will," she urged, needing a vocal confirmation.

"yes, i trust you," he managed through breathy pants.

will felt her grin against his lips as she slowly slipped her hand into his shorts. the boy jumped at the feeling of her warm hand against his clothed cock. "fuck," he let out.

"okay?" samy wondered.

"mhm, okay," the boy said, quickly nodding his head as samy stroked him through his shorts.

will's hips stuttered uncontrollably. his mind was racing along with the dreams he's had of him and samy doing this. her hand fit so perfectly around his length and god, it was so much better than his own hand.

"ugh, f-feels good," the blonde muttered, somewhat nervous still.

"yeah? feels good?" samy smiled, satisfied with the sounds she was pulling from will. he nodded with his head tipping back a little, struggling to keep his eyes open because he wanted to ingrain this moment into his brain forever.

his open neck was the perfect opportunity for the girl to pounce. she hooked her lips onto his throat, quickly sucking which pulled a guttural moan from within the boy. he bit hard on his lip in fear that someone would hear them while samy continued her stroking and nipping his skin. 

from knowing a small thing or two, will decided to try something. he slipped his hand up her shirt until it stopped on her boobs. a small gasp left his lips when he realized samy wasn't wearing a bra under her shirt. 

"okay?" the girl asked sensing his hesitation. 

"y-yes. yeah. you're not wearing a bra," he said a bit bluntly. a tiny chuckle left her lips. 

"is that okay?" 

"more than okay," will breathed. he cupped one breast with his hand, feeling samy's nipple harden under his touch. 

he stated rubbing it in tiny circles—something one of his teammates said girls like and boy, was he right. a soft moan escaped samy's lips which filled the blonde's chest with pride that he did that. 

he decided to keep going by adding a few squeezes on the covered bud. samy squirmed atop his lap which was definitely not helping the arousal in his pants, but will tried ignoring his own needs, wanting to focus all on samy. 

he continued that for another few moments before samy decided they needed their shirts off. she tugged at the bottom of will's and he quickly took the hint as he pulled it over his head. it flew somewhere in her room and his mouth watered a bit in anticipation for samy to lose her shirt. he'd never seen her completely naked on top, only with a bra still on. 

as soon as will saw her bare nipples, he thought he'd cum on the spot. they were so beautiful in a bra, the blonde had no idea they could get even better without a bra. 

"you can touch," samy nodded encouragingly. 

will slowly cupped both hands on her breasts. he squeezed before rubbing both of his thumbs over the buds. another moan left the brunette's lips, her head tipping back. the boy didn't waste a second attaching his lips to her skin like she did minutes ago. 

this wasn't new to will. he was practically a pro at giving hickeys in the most hottest, yet hidden places. samy's arms wrapped around his neck like she wanted him closer so his face was practically in her chest. 

he sucked everywhere across her top half—neck, collarbone, the soft flesh of the tops of her breasts. before will even knew it, her entire nipple slipped into his mouth and made contact with his tongue. 

a louder moan left the girl's lips and will knew he wanted to pull more of those sounds from her. 

"fuck, just like that will," samy moaned out, tugging harshly at the root of his curls. the boy hummed, trying to focus everything on samy and not his desperate need for a release. 

the girl let him go back and forth on each for a few more minutes before pulling him up and reconnecting their lips. will's swollen lips were slick with his saliva all while he tasted samy's signature gloss: strawberry. it made him dizzy in a good way because all he wanted was to kiss all of it off. 

"think you're ready?" samy wondered, not wanting to move too fast. the hockey player quickly nodded feeling the strain in his shorts and the way his hips were just involuntarily grinding against samy's core. 

"so ready." 

with that, she climbed off his lap, instructing him to pull his shorts and underwear down. samy dug through her drawer for a condom, flashing the imfaous rapper before pulling her own shorts down as well. will's entire mouth watered seeing her almost completely naked besides her underwear. 

"you're so gorgeous," the blonde muttered, not even able to tear his eyes away. 

will sat with his cock out where it occasionally twitched against his stomach. the tip was red and definitely ready, although he grew a bit conscious under samy's longing stare. 

did she not like it? was he not big enough? was he too big? 

the worries clouded will's brain until samy climbed back onto her bed, stroking her boyfriend's cheek to bring him back to reality, "remember, you can say no or stop at anytime, okay?" 

"i know," the blonde nodded. 

he watched his girlfriend rip open the rapper with her teeth which was quite literally the hottest thing he's ever seen. she found his gaze, silently asking permission to touch him. 

when he nodded samy's hand slowly wrapped arpund his length. her hand was enough to make him jump, "fuck." 

the precum oozing from the pretty tip was helpful as lube. as samy's thumb rubbed along the slit, will's head tipped back, eyes squeezing shut this time and his hands gripping the bedsheets. 

"so, so pretty, will," the brunette praised earning a large blush on his cheeks. 

"you think so?" he managed to get out through breathy pants. 

"mhmm. you're so big," when he found her gaze again the boy nearly lost it. she looked at him through hooded eyses, a mix of love and lust in her features. 

once will had enough, samy slowly slid the condom down. the plastic material caused a stutter in his hips and a small curse leaving his lips at his girlfriend's gentle touch. she fell back onto the bed, ushering the boy to follow her lead. 

he hovered over her, their breaths mixing together in slightly nervous pants. will's cock throbbed at the feeling of samy's entrance so close, yet he never broke eye contact. "just go slow and not rough," the girl explained. 

"right, of course," will nodded. 

he took ahold of his length, carefully directing it to samy's hole. the boy bit his lip, the anxiety bubbling in his stomach that he wouldn't do it right. the further he pushed his hips forward, the more his tip slid into samy. 

they let out loud moans at the first contact. "oh fuck," the boy moaned out. 

"like that, will. feels good," samy encouraged, gripping onto his biceps. 

he pushed himself further in, resisting every urge to thrust in, but his self-control was slipping fast. finally, he bottomed out. a mix between a sigh and groan escaped both of their lips. samy wrapped her legs around will's while they took a second to adjust. 

god, he felt even better inside of her. will thought the same as samy's walls squeezed every inch of his length along with his need to cum already. 

"whenever your ready," samy rubbed his back in soothing circles. 

"yeah, in a second. fuck, you feel so good," the boy muttered out. a thin line of sweat glistened across his forehead and at every inch where they were connected and touching. 

everything was so overwhelming for the hockey player. samy's boobs pressed against his chest, her legs wrapped around his, her squeezing him like her life depended on it. 

finally, will found it in himself to slowly start moving. he carefully raised his hips until just the tip was inside before pushing back in. 

"yeah, shit. so good," samy's praises fueled will's confidence as he picked up his pace little by little. 

"mm, fuck. you feel incredible. you're so beautiful," will rambled through his immense pleasure. 

he found a good speed while samy tried meeting his thrusts as well. the room filled with sounds of their sex and fuck, did they really hope no one walked by her room. 

will definitely wasn't going to last long. samy knew that based on how sensitive he was and the way his cock throbbed inside of her every time she squeezed a bit harder. the boy hid his face in the crook of her neck as his panting increased and incoherent thoughts tumbled from his lips. 

"oh fuck. fuck. yeah, mm—not gonna last," he managed through broken pants. 

"it's okay, you can cum," samy squeezed his shoulders. 

"want you to cum too," will had enough mind and knowledge to know that samy needed pleasure and a release too. 

he stuck his one hand between them, remembering from another teammate where the clit was. his fingers quickly rubbed it in fast circles wanting samy to release before he did despite his stittering hips and need to cum so close. 

samy's own hips stuttered at will's touch. she bit hard on his shoulder, trying to keep quiet as her climax approached. the pleasure overtook the pain, so will hardly felt a thing. 

"yeah, fuck. right there. keep going. don't stop." 

"god, i'm so fucking close. gonna make me cum. please tell me you're close," will urged, not sure how much longer he could hold back his load. 

"so close, will. keep going, please," the brunette nodded, voice high-pitched and squeaky. 

the dam broke. samy's climax hit her hard, her back arching off the bed further into will's chest. he wasn't far behind, spilling into the condom with the uncontrollale thrust of his hips and the string of curse words leaving his lips. 

"oh god, fuck. oh fuck," will collapsed, sweaty and spent. 

his hips continued in little stutters with a bit of aftershock. samy wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders as his face hid in her neck trying to regain his lost breath. 

"did so, so good will. so good," the girl praised, kissing the side of his head. 

"best first time ever," the blonde sighed. 

he finally lifted his head to meet her gaze. his curls stuck to his sweaty forehead, but the smile never left his lips. samy just giggled, "glad you think so." 

will slowly pulled out, groaning at the feeling of his cock slipping out. he pulled the condom off, placing it in the trash before laying back down and scooping samy into his arms. 

"not so bad, right?" the brunette raised her eyebrow. 

"with you, it was perfect," his words made her flush. gentle kisses were placed against her skin trying to savor everything from the best moment ever. 

[ofallthethingsabove]

Little Somethin' For The Road// Billy the Kid x Outlaw!Reader

WARNINGS: Lovey dovey behavior, Kinda steamy partin' ways

SUMMARY: After shacking up with you, Billy has a need to keep moving. You're half tempted to leave with him, but you both know your boys would fall apart without you.

"I couldn't live with myself if somethin' happened to 'em", you whispered against Billy's shoulder.

He was stood on the porch of the home you had acquired with one of the boys' forgery skills, hot summer sun baking the ground. You stood close to him. His arm rested around your waist to keep you there while your head remained pressed against him. You didn't want him to leave, you wanted him to stay. Just as he wanted you to go with him. You were at odds, but being the gentleman he was, he wasn't about to argue with you. Besides, he knew better.

"I know", he replied, melancholy creeping into his voice.

It had been about a month of getting to know Billy before you let him slip under your guard, and it had been another month of falling in love with him. You knew this wouldn't have happened unless he was leaving, would have been bad business otherwise. It was hard work keeping men off you, especially the newer recruits. Both you and Billy knew he wasn't staying, but your heart hurt with the truth regardless.

"I wish it was different", he added, fingers gently rubbing circles into your side.

So did you. You'd miss the warmth of his hands on your skin. That could be found anywhere where else, you thought. But it was more than his skin. You'd miss the warmth of his smile, the way your skin would prickle under his gaze. That was irreplaceable.

"No use in that", you remarked truthfully, no use in sugarcoating the sting already throbbing in both your chests.

That was when he turned to face you, both hands resting on your hips. His eyes told you how much he hated this, how he had to do it. There was an eternal struggle in Billy, that was something you noticed quickly about him. Maybe it was because he grew up Catholic, maybe it was because, despite everything, he was a good man. Good men were few and far between, especially in your line of work.

Your eyes never left his as you stood up as far as you could, hands finding the base of his hairline to gently guide his lips to yours. He leaned into you, lips as soft and hungry as the first time he kissed you. A sigh left the both of you as you got lost in each other for the last time. Your tongue found his, as it had plenty of times before. He pulled you even closer, leaned you against the post of the porch. You'd have let him have you right there, but you had already had him that morning under the guise of it being the last time you'd feel him like that.

When your lips parted, you rested your head against his chest, both catching your breath. You listened to his heart, how fast it was thumping against your ear. You listened to his lungs catch back up, wondering if you'd ever feel this way again. Goddamn how you would miss this boy.

"What was that for", he teased, a smile twinkling in his eyes. There he was, the jovial jackass you fell for.

"Little somethin' for the road, outlaw", you quipped back, kissing his cheek as you tore yourself away from him. "You should come back someday, if you don't find what you're lookin' for."

"Yes, ma'am."

He tipped his hat at you, kissed your lips one more time, and left off the porch. Billy offered you one more solemn, love filled grin before ridding off toward the next town.

[a-libra-writes]

Hello Libra, I just like to say that I really love your work and I love how you depict all these characters so well!

I was wondering if you can do some jealousy headcanons for the Lackadaisy characters?

Danke!! GN reader, most reference a relationship or romantic interest.

♣️Rocky - His jealousy is very obvious to anyone who bothers to pay attention. It is not less obvious or pathetic when you're in a relationship, either. Rocky will find any excuse to interrupt you and the other person, scare them off, redirect your attention, and so forth. It can become very distracting and annoying, so it's best to address the problem right away. The jealousy 100% stems from Rocky's fears of abandonment - not that he'd recognize that - so reassuring him and soothing that insecurity helps a lot. Sometimes his jealous reactions are just that, knee-jerk reactions that he doesn't fully think through. It's safe to say the insecurity is less of an issue the longer you both are together, especially if you're already a very affirming and affectionate partner.

♣️Freckle - The big-eyed boy has a quiet, passive jealousy that he may not notice right away. It stems from inadequacy, and he believes himself to be inadequate in many things, especially when it comes to relationships. He doesn't exactly have a lot of experience, you know? It'll be a constant needling build-up, though his uh, night time shooty activities helps get a lot of that aggression out. He's very open to talking things over, but you'd have to bring it up first. Freckle would rather stew in Catholic-level feelings of guilt before ever talking about it; but talks help a lot! Reassuring him goes a long way, and making sure he brings up his negative feelings before they get so bad.

♣️Ivy - While she's quite easygoing and not prone to jealous thoughts that often, when they do pop up, it manifests as an intense "my best-friend-who-I-tooootally-have-platonic-feelings-for-is-dating-someone-new-and-I-suddenly-hate-that-person". She pouts, she plots, she makes her displeasure known to you - she just gets an off feeling from that person. No, it's not mature, and she can get pretty catty about it - but she's also only 18~19. If you're femme then Ivy can easily dismiss her feelings as just missing her best friend - it'll take extra time to realize they aren't entirely platonic. If you both were together and already had conversations about this, that burning jealousy melts away to a little spark she feels now and again. She'll ignore it, knowing it's just a dumb thing that'll pass as soon as you're back at her side.

♣Mitzi - As much as she acts like she's above such things, Mitzi is the same as anyone else in developing jealous feelings. She recognizes them at once and just wants to bury them down, it's so embarrassing. It's even worse if she gets antsy about someone being overly friendly or flirty with you. What is she, a schoolgirl? The anger at herself might irk Mitzi even more than the person whose being so forward with you. She can get quite passive aggressive toward them, coating her barbs with honey - and that might get directed toward you if she feels you're also being too friendly with them. None of this lasts long - Mitzi would rather have a drink and kiss and make up. She's too old too ladylike for this silly nonsense.

♣Viktor - Just because he recognizes what he's feeling doesn't mean the old Slovak processes them in a healthy way (like, at all). To strangers, he's his usual frightening self, but to those who know him they can tell there's a distinct animosity coming off him. He's not a possessive type, but Viktor already feels miserable about himself and that he doesn't deserve you in the slightest - the idea of someone better coming along is not an impossibility. Now, he can't simply grab them by the neck and throw them out a window just for talking .. .and that'd upset you. So Viktor settles for being in a terrible mood until you soothe him. Attempting to talk him through it just makes him feel worse about himself.

♣Zib - Oh, he recognizes it quick, and Zib haaaates feeling this way. It's so pathetic, so annoying. He should be the bigger person, just suck it up and walk away, but ... nah. If he's been drinking, he's absolutely going to make snide comments and act inappropriate. You drag his drunk ass aside and he does feel a little (kinda) bad about he acted ... some days he's better about it. It's so cliche, but he knows what he's like as a partner. He doesn't offer much, and even if you've made it clear you still care about him, the insecurities and negative feelings can dig into him... especially after booze. He perks right up after some cuddling.

♣Atlas - He doesn't show it outwardly at all. Atlas keeps his impassive expression, outsiders can't tell the difference, but you and his two closest triggermen might pick up the iciness in his eyes. Eventually, that frost would melt into his voice. He would consider any jealous feelings beneath him, if he deigned to call them that. Instead, he'd translate it as disrespect: Whoever is being too personal with you and inspiring these feelings is disrespecting him. It's ... probably best that they move on.

🏵Serafine - Jealousy isn't something that comes easily to her. She's too free-spirited, and she doesn't like the idea of holding another down. She'd hate for you to restrict her, so why should she do the same to you? That said, there are a few times when it comes up. There are always those who want to flirt with you and get too close for her liking, but ... it's also fun to watch. She lets the little pangs of jealousy build up until you return to her side, and Serafine will tease you for doing it on purpose. There's a reason she likes to leave lipstick stains and bites on you. Note, if you try to incite jealousy in her on purpose, she'll see it as a game - but if you're seriously trying to provoke something, it's just irksome. Isn't that a bit childish?

🏵Nico - Like his sister, Nico isn't one for jealousy. He's inspired plenty of it and isn't a fan, and like Serafine, he won't tie you down if you don't do the same to him. Truthfully, he has much less patience for it. Some may think he doesn't feel jealous at all; but Nico is actually just good at dealing with it in a healthy way. He waits until you're back at his side and showers extra attention on you - it's pretty funny when the person who was flirting starts glaring at you. As long as you're not intentionally trying to get a rise out of him, he's chill.

🏵Mordecai - He's awful about it, made worse that he refuses to acknowledge it. It really doesn't kick in until you both have this sort-of-kind-of understanding that's a mess to navigate to begin with, never mind if jealousy comes into play. Mordecai both feels it strongly and denies it with as much strength. Some stranger trying to be smooth is irksome, but not the end of the world. But someone who has a sustained relationship with you? Who gets to touch you and be close to you on the regular? Nope. He's argumentative and prickly anytime they come up. By the time he figures out what his feelings are about, he'd rather chew off his own tail than ever bring it up.

🏵Wes - His flavor of jealousy tends to come from either inadequacy or possessiveness. If the person flattering you and getting too close is some idiot he works alongside, you better believe his hackles raise and he puts them in their place. If it's someone he can't immediately beat down, or if they seem ... well, better than him in some way, the jealousy quietly simmers underneath. Your initial attempts to talk it out are bust, considering the time period and his own machismo ... but he can come around once you reassure him. And wait, didn't he want this to be a casual thing? What's he getting so worked up about, anyway?

🏔Wick - When they build up, he quickly recognizes the jealous feelings in himself. It's something Wick is familiar with, and dislikes - as if it's a personal failing, and not a thing everyone goes through. Depending on how long it sticks around, he can become a little withdrawn and even unsure. It just feels so childish, but he's still glad to get some reassurances. He insists it's not necessary, but Wick still gives you that dopey, painfully affectionate smile you're used to. He's also someone who handles it maturely, and they seem to go as quickly as they come. They may linger if there's already some obstacle between you two - maybe he hasn't brought up his feelings, you're masc so he can't be as open with his affection, and so on - but he's still recognizing these negative feelings and willing to work through them.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

"Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall, Who's the Fairest of Them All?"

This set of headcanons was the most difficult for me to write for of the 7 dorms. I think it’s because I don’t immediately associate Pomefiore with any group activities, unlike most of the others.

Note: Rollo does not canonically dislike apples, I just decided to run with it to go along with the whole joke of him being Catholic... and how apples are representative of "the first sin" in much of pop culture.

A Big Pomefiore Welcome to Rollo!

Four dormitory visits in, and Rollo's dreading the next. He expects it to be every bit as exhausting as the first four were, whether physically or mentally. But no, he won't let his spirit be broken, won't let these NRC students under his skin!! Rollo trudges onward.

Pomefiore boasts a pleasant atmosphere right as he enters their realm. It is filled with soft birdsong and lush greenery, sunshine coming down upon his face. He shields his eyes and squints at the rustic castle towering ahead. it's grand, imposing, and filled with rich history. So far, so good.

At this point, Rollo expects someone to jump out of the bushes to annoy him, but the entire walk to the entrance is uneventful. Something is very wrong here, he thinks, slowly rapping on the doors. Does a jump scare await him beyond it? Rollo braces himself when the doors creak open and push out.

“Bienvenu, Roi du Mouchoir!!” an irritatingly familiar voice calls out to him. Rook rushes at Rollo at a frightening speed, nearly crushing the man's bones in a hug he's too slow to avoid. An arm coiling around him like a snake, a hand on the small of his back, Rook happily welcomes Rollo inside.

The huntsman talks. Incessantly. He talks about how happy he is to be reunited with him, he talks about the beautiful weather, he talks about the wonderful reception Pomefiore has painstakingly planned to welcome his arrival. He just about never stops talking, never wipes that big, dumb smile off of his face. It’s plainly unsettling.

Rollo utters a sharp “Tais-toi!”, which finally silences Rook (but only for about all of 5 seconds). His eyes crease, and something about his expression reminds Rollo of a hungry fox. “Ah, I see that your fiery fervor has yet to dim. Harboring such unyielding ideals… Fufufu, that tenacious spirit of yours makes you a wonderful fit in the realm of the Beautiful Queen.”

“Tch. You keep speaking in that overly familiar tone of voice,” Rollo snips as he and Rook come to a new set of doors, “acting as though we’re on amicable terms, ushering me into your fold. Make no mistake, I do NOT plan on becoming intimate with…”

The doors open into an opulent lounge decorated for a fancy reception. Streamers are suspended from the ceiling, confetti dusting open seats, vases of flowers topping ever counter, petals spilling in a luxurious waterfall from one table. Sitting upon elegant purple cloths are plates of hors d'oeuvres and flutes with sparkling liquids.

Students in robes with billowing sleeves are scattered around a throne where a beautiful man sits. Nervously standing at the seated queen’s side is a shorter boy with fluffy lilac hair and large eyes. Their gazes momentarily meet, and there’s a flicker of recognition in both of them. It’s Epel Felmier from the masquerade.

Rook approaches, sweeping his feathered hat off and bowing. “Je suis revenu.” There’s a nod from the beautiful man—the dorm’s ruler, Rollo believes—as he raises a hand to the onlookers. “Thank you for escorting our guest to the venue, Rook. Now then, let the festivities begin.” The Pomefiore students clap politely for him as soft orchestral music begins to play, as if by magic.

“Well then, my friend—” (“We are NOT friends,” Rollo sharply corrects Rook.) “—please enjoy yourself! As sorrowful as it is to part ways, cruel Fate dictates it must be so. Worry not, our paths will surely cross again! Until then, I leave you with this token to remember me by.” Rook produces a rose from his sleeve and slips it into Rollo’s hat, then prances off to his dorm leader.

Rollo removed the the rose crushes it in his palm like a stress ball. He lets the crumpled flower fall to his feet, mingling with the petals already on the polished floor.

“Erm, Rook-senpai… Is it okay to really let him walk around the party without supervision?” Epel asks as his upperclassman draws near. “Won’t he… um, you know??” (To this, Rook chuckles. “Non, we needn’t worry. Acting so boldly in broad daylight is not to his style.“)

Rollo tries to minimize his presence, finding some quiet corner to stand in until the reception ends. Unfortunately for him, Pomefiore students keep walking up to chat. He’s on edge, expecting them to be combative or nosy—but no, he finds that they’re a more insidious kind of evil… the underhanded, subtler sort.

Many of the mob students compliment his outfit. However just as many of them raise their eyebrows when they see him up close. They coo about how Rollo’s complexion looks so haggard and how he has such dark circles under his eyes. (A few of them also remark that his haircut is “a choice”.)

Some mob students start giving him (uncalled for) beauty tips and product recommendations. Retinol creams, vitamin C serums, sleeping masks—all manner of lotions and potions to supposedly “fix” his dark circles and sickly look.

Rollo takes their words as gracefully as he can, but inside his annoyance steadily accumulates. (How shallow and frivolous their interests are!! And how dare they try to impose their vain standards onto him?!)

The conversation soon takes a turn into history, a subject which he finds much more enjoyable. He hears of the Beautiful Queen and passes on stories of the Righteous Judge—equal parts give and take.

Rollo learns that their dorm leader, Vil, is skilled in the laboratory. Potions, poisons… he can brew them all. “He even tends to our plants and harvests them to create his own cosmetics,” a mob student excitedly tells Rollo. “That’s our Vil-sama!”

“What a coincidence. I, too, partake in gardening as a hobby.” Rollo chooses his words very carefully, but still a smirk finds its way onto his face. He can’t help but sneer a little at these hapless fools (who misinterpret the look as an awkward attempt at a smile). “Fufufu, yes… I do so love flowers of a crimson color in particular. Lotuses have a charm to them as well. The red ones are reminiscent of fire.”

Every time Rollo has to take an aside to cover his (frequent) grimaces with his handkerchief, the Pomefiore mobs remark on how thoughtful and graceful it is for him to do such a thing. They start talking about how they, too, should invest in their own handkerchiefs—what colors and designs should they consider? “… Any will do,” Rollo grumbles.

When he thinks about it, a lot of the Pomefiore mobs’ admiration for Vil reminds him of his own peers back at NBC. They stare at him with sparkling eyes full of adoration, praising him for every achievement, falling over themselves to be at his beck and call. Hmph, how foolish.

A feeling of unease never fully leaves Rollo as he converses with others. He feels as though he’s still being watched by Rook—yet when he glances over to check on the huntsman, he seems preoccupied whispering into Vil’s ear or laughing a something Epel said. As soon as Rollo looks away, that eerie sensation returns.

When the mob students finally retreat into their own smaller circles and cliques, Rollo decides to have a light snack to regain all that energy he just expended entertaining nosy idiots. He’s pleased to find foods that remind him of home: charcuterie boards, cheeses, grapes, breads—

An awkward cough sounds from behind him. “W-Would you like some juice, sir?” It’s Epel, shyly offering a glass to him. (From a distance, Rook nods encouragingly and gives him two thumbs up. Vil sighs, swirling around liquid in a goblet of his own.)

“You were sent personally,” Rollo remarks. (Epel was; Vil had prodded him to go so he could observe how he handled himself in a strained social situation.) “Why?” (“You um… seemed thirsty?”)

“It’s not poisoned, is it?” Rollo asks suspiciously, cautiously accepting the glass. (“N-Nossir! It ain’t! I swear it on mah life!!” Epel insists.) He peers inside and finds golden juice. “This must be apple. Do you have an alternative? Perhaps grape.”

“E-Eh?” Epel seems surprised (and mildly offended) by the request. “You prefer grapes to apples?” ("I do. Apples may keep for a long time relative to other fruits, but I find the texture of them to be quite mealy and difficult to get down.")

"Mealy?!" Epel's outburst draws the attention of everyone in the room (including Vil, who does not look pleased). The first year mutters an apology before returning to Rollo. "I'm sure there's some kind of apple you must like...? There's many new breeds out now because of advances in MMOs."

"Magically modified organisms?" Rollo sneers at the idea. "What makes you think I would want to ingest produce that has been touched by magic? The concept itself is abhorrent. Apples were simply meant to be the lesser fruit."

"LESSER FRUIT?!" Epel's even louder (and more appalled) this time. “You oughta take that back ‘fore I…!” Vil frowns and rises from his throne. Epel pales and instantly shuts up as his dorm leader sashays toward them.

"My, I do hope our Epel isn't imposing on you," Vil drawls, glaring at the first year. Epel's prepared to be chewed out--but miraculously, he's spared with the wave of Vil's hand. (He scrambles off with Rook, leaving Rollo to Vil.) "As you can plainly see, there’s still much work to be done in terms of his manners and temperament. Some potatoes take more time and effort to whip into shape than others, I'm afraid."

“Of course. I completely understand.” Rollo’s reply is terse and stiff as he regards Vil—a famous face he recalls seeing in various works, posted about almost religiously online. An idol for the masses, is his immediate thought, flaunting about like a primping peacock. Pushing products and an excessive lifestyle for others to ogle and covet. Encouraging sin.

Epel gives Rollo a dirty look when he’s sure Vil isn’t looking. “No way can anyone hate apples and be a good person!! His heart is pure black, Rook-senpai!!" Epel clutches onto the robes of his upperclassman. "He definitely still can’t be trusted!!”

“I don't believe I've had the chance to formally introduce myself." Vil slowly swirls around the carbonated apple juice in his own goblet. "Vil Schoenheit—a pleasure. I’ve heard so many stories about you.” None of them good, Rollo suspects.

With a glance around the room, Vil sighs. He gestures to the garden that awaits beyond a window. “It’s getting to be a bit stuffy in here. Would you care to take this outside?”

Rollo seizes the opportunity to escape from the suffocating space and prying eyes. He enters the night, finding comfort in the darkness and silence. For a moment, he almost forgets that Vil is with him—until he hears the distinctive clacking of a sharp nail against glass.

“I hope Pomefiore’s hospitality has met your standards,” Vil says nonchalantly. “Rook tells me you’re very particular.” And truthfully? Rollo confesses to him that it’s been the least abrasive of the dorms he has visited thus far. Vil makes a face. “… I had my expectations set low for some of the others, but I can’t fathom what horrors you’ve experienced at the their hands.“

“You have some sense in you.” What a shame it is that you are a mage. Rollo doesn’t speak his true thoughts out loud, but Vil seems to sense the animosity radiating off of him.

He gives a snooty laugh. “You must think little of me. As an A-list actor, I can see easily through your facade. Let’s drop the pretenses, hmm? I’d like to speak with the real Rollo Flamme.” At the invitation, Rollo scowls. Vil smirks right back. “That’s more like it.”

“… What is it that you want? There must be a reason why you’ve gone out of your way to isolate us from the rest of them.”

“A queen can be curious,” Vil explains in a dismissive manner. He sweeps a golden lock behind one ear, treating the scene no different from another set. The moonlight on him as he delivers a soliloquy. “… It goes without saying that I do not approve of your methods. However, there is something to be said of your doggedness. That, at least, deserved to be lauded.”

“You’re congratulating me.” Rollo says it as a statement of disbelief.

“In a way, yes.” Vil’s laugh is low and cruel. “The more you want something, the harder is it to obtain. It’s never quite so simple. You’re promised the world as a child, and then you grow up and realize the world doesn’t owe you a happy ending no matter how hard you bite and hiss and claw for it. I know of that frustration well myself.”

Vil wants the truth? He’ll get the truth. Rollo lets the vitriol slip into his voice, turning it pointed and poisonous. “I’m appalled that you would even imply that we are similar. Do not compare me with the likes of you…!”

“Am I wrong? Please, enlighten me.” There’s a newfound satisfaction in Vil’s expression. He knows he has not won, but that he has gotten under Rollo’s skin. “It’s difficult to put on a smile and act as though all is well, isn’t it? That’s the burden we bear. The roles we are expected to play.” Vil smiles a bit. “Perhaps in another life, I would have welcomed you as a student of my dormitory.”

“If a second life exists, I would want a life of normalcy—not to be jailed in your gilded cage of a castle,” Rollo spits out. “I would wish to be free of this burning curse. I would have him back.” I could be happy again in that fairer world.

Vil nods and solemnly lifts his glass. “… To your wish upon a star—and your efforts to realize it.” Rollo finds himself mimicking the motion, compelled by a feeling he doesn’t recognize. Is it a pledge to never give up, even if the world is against him? Is it a part of him acknowledging Vil’s harsh truth? He doesn’t know.

They toast and raise the cups to their lips. Somehow, the apple juice tastes bittersweet on both of their tongues.

With that, Vil turns away. Heels clicking rhythmically, he follows the warm lights spilling out from Pomefiore back inside. He will return to the reception, mingle with his subjects. Maybe scold Epel as he had initially intended to, or tell Rook off for coming onto their guest too strongly.

Rollo is alone in the night.

… Or so he thinks, until a hand comes upon his shoulder.

“Roi du Mouchoir,” Rook says softly, emerging from the shadows as though he were born among them, “Let us make haste back to the reception. You’re the guest of honor—it wouldn’t do to have you running off on us! Ah, but if you do… I would be more than happy to chase you down to the ends of Twisted Wonderland to retrieve you.”

“Wha…?! Where did you come from?!” Rollo jerks away from him with a yelp, which doesn’t seem to bother Rook at all. He keeps smiling that crude, large smile of his and claps. “Très bien, you’re still brimming with vitality for the rest of the evening! Come now, let us return!”

His patience snaps.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep far away from me!!”

[thornsnvultures]

blessing

demon!eddie munson x nun!reader

summary: your personal demon needs to be taught a lesson for interrupting your nightly prayers again.

cw: 18+ nsft, smut, general sacrilege, liberties taken with catholic/religious practices, masturbation (reader), bondage (eddie in chains), degradation, sub!eddie, & squirting (if there's anything I missed lmk) <800 words

"What do you think will happen, demon? Will fucking me bring you salvation? Is that what you're hoping for?"

The demon you've captured writhes under you in your bed. He's already been weakened, his powers subdued by being on hallowed ground. He doesn't have the strength to overpower you, nor the magics to play tricks on your mind.

It didn't mean you were immune to his... other charms. His teasing touches, whispers in your ear, late night meetings in your quarters.

He shouldn't be here, you should be on your knees in prayer. Instead your knees bracket his slim hips, your habit bunched up around your thighs. You were sworn to a life of celibacy, a life long marriage to God and no one else. But you found no wrongs in pleasuring yourself.

"This is what you want, yes?" You lift your habit further, exposing the patch of hair at the junction of your spread thighs. The demon below you groans, tugging at his restraints at the head of your bed. "Do you think you can tempt me so easily, demon? This is a holy place," your fingers dip into your heat, spreading your folds open, drawing back the curtain for him to see your most sacred place. "This is no place for the likes of you. With your foul words, trying to lead me to temptation," you scoff.

You lean back on one hand, the other making quick circles around your clit. Your head falls back and you let yourself feel it, feel the powerful blessing of pleasure ratcheting up between your thighs. The demon under your thrashed and begged, pleaded for a touch, a taste.

"You're a tease, a whore," he spits venom but his eyes tell a different story, so full of awe, wonder... hunger.

"When I touch myself I honor him. He made me in his image, in his glory. I was made to cherish my body, to carry myself to ecstasy until I saw his light, his face," your words came in gasping, shuddering breaths. You could feel yourself inching closer to the edge. His election below you as well, the way it nudged and searched and longed to enter you, to plow its way past your holy gates, to fill you with its sulfurous seed. He could yearn for your blessing all he wanted, but a doomed soul would not be allowed entry, no matter how he pleaded.

"Your cunt is too pretty to not be filled, o' holy one," the demon smirked even as he gasped, watching your fingers get sloppier, sticky in your juices.

"Then I shall fill it," you slide two fingers in and instantly your pleasure ratchets higher. "And I shall coax out his blessing until you are awash with it."

The demon's curly head lifts, like he's trying to get a closer look at the way your hole flutters around your fingers. Your groans turn to shouts of leg shaking pleasure and you can see it, golden sparks at the edge of your vision. You reach your peak then, pulling your fingers free from your spasming clutch and with them releasing a torrent of your holy waters.

The demon shouts, his deep red skin sizzling as your fingers continue to work at your nub, splashing his chest with the spray of your ecstasy, the essence of your God. His blessing pouring through you and scarring the beast below you.

He roars, bucking under you and you can feel his release splash against your back, a sizzling heat that shoots all the way up to the back of your head coverings.

"Such a bad boy, making a mess," you slip your habit up over your head, dropping it on the floor to be washed later. The demon takes in your naked form, his fingers curling, claws digging into his palms until they bleed.

"It's time to send you back, Edward," you caress his cheek, his protruding horns, down to the mess you left on his chest. He's already healing, his eternal form bouncing back so he can live another eternity in hell.

"Let me stay, let me have you," he begs, rattling his chains.

You press a kiss to his forehead, your bare breasts hanging achingly close to his hungry mouth. But you pull away before he can latch on and taste your flesh for himself.

"You have to go back, Edward. I can't fuck your spirit whole."

The demon growls and before you can anger him further you close your eyes and will him away. His rattling chains fall silent and you know he's gone.

[curioushabitforarivergod]

Pre wwii what would conditions in the orphanage Tom grew up in hsve been like? (Ie in the 1926-37 period)

Honestly, conditions would've been pretty shit. Firstly disease was rife, especially as the East End (where Wool's presumably is) was a slum throughout the Industrial Revolution and into the 20th century (with it only really changing post WWII). Tom would be familiar with stuff like mumps and whooping cough, even if he never got sick himself due to magic protecting him (as we see with Harry). But they'd also be other diseases like tuberculosis, diphtheria, scarlet fever, rickets, polio and even the flu. It's likely multiple children at the orphanage would have physical disabilities due to polio maybe even with callipers (a permanent kind of splint to help people who'd suffered from polio walk). While children would often be isolated with most illnesses, it would be incredibly difficult for an orphanage to do so, and it's probable that children died as bouts of sickness and disease spread through the orphanage. Kids who were one day at dinner are gone the next.

The first legal precedent for adopting children occurs with the Adoption of Children Act in 1926, so legal adoption how we understand it today, was fairly new. Children were lined up on Sundays, washed and in their best clothes (after attending church!) for rich people to adopt, but it tended to be a way for getting free labour rather than out of an actual desire to have children to love and care for.

I'm not sure what JKR was basing her orphanage off (likely something modern), but Tom probably wouldn't have gotten his own room, even if he was considered 'insane'. There simply wasn't enough room. Children shared a dormitory, one that could be overstuffed and cramped, sometimes even with several children to a bed. Food was similar — it was a cramped long hall (almost like a smaller, horrible version of the great hall) with rows of tables and children waiting their turn for a meal. They were probably only given one or two a day; likely gruel in the morning and bread with a stew in the evening. Tom's diet would've been vegetarian because meat was insanely expensive, although he may have had meat on Christmas and potentially Sundays if the orphanage could afford it.

On that note, Tom and the other orphans would've been Christian, most likely CoE. Although Catholic orphanages did exist, Wool's is not named after a Saint and so was more likely Protestant. Tom would've gone to church every Sunday, perhaps in a chapel on Wool's grounds, although if not, it would've been at the local church. He also would've been expected to pray. He'd go to Sunday School alongside normal school (which would've been at the local public school or perhaps, if Wool's was especially large, which I don't think it was, there would've been one of the staff who could teach or they'd bring someone in). For Christmas itself, Tom would likely get an orange which was incredibly special due to his diet likely not including fruit.

Tom would've shared everything, including clothes. He probably didn't even have underwear, and may sometimes have had to wear dresses/frocks, especially when he was younger, due to a lack of clothes. These clothes would've been stiff and itchy, potentially with lice. They would've been washed once a week, as with the orphans themselves (in large buckets!), and been hung out to dry on huge lines. Depending on how many clothes there were to go round, Tom would've spent this time in underwear (although sometimes orphans didn't even have this) or in another pair of clothes that had been worn by other children hundreds of times before. It's no wonder Tom stole — he literally had nothing, not even his own clothes (and perhaps not even underwear either).

Tom would've been expected to care for children younger than him, including babies, from a very young age. Even if he didn't enjoy it, Tom would've been good with young children and it's no wonder he was able to make Head Boy at Hogwarts because of it.

The Great Depression would've made these conditions worse. Although some of the conditions would've improved over the years, the Great Depression meant that everything was more expensive. Meals were probably downsized, if not cut entirely to one a day. The amount of kids at the orphanage probably rose during this time due to parents having to abandon children, which would've been especially prevalent in the East End which, as I've mentioned previously, was just slums and dockyard. Meat probably disappeared completely from Tom's diet, even at Christmas.

All in all, Tom's early life and conditions at the orphanage were grim. Kids died around him, conditions were cramped with diseases, illness and lice, he'd not even have his own clothes, meals would be limited, he'd spend his free time looking after kids younger than him and he'd fear being adopted. The roaring twenties were shit and the thirties shitter still. Hogwarts would've been the best thing that ever happened to Tom — it's no wonder he called it his home.

[violettaskies]

To Share A Kiss The Devil Has Known

(ch. 3)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x you // Eddie Munson x f!reader // perv!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader

Genre: romance, mild smut, Catholic trauma, religious trauma, friends to lovers, slow burn

Notes: the final part!! hope you enjoy // Eddie is kinda pervy lol // he’s kinda dark but also not // i tried to write him to be as much of a consent king as possible // please read chapters 1 and 2 if you want some more context and details, but if u just want smut then i totally get it lol this chapter is the one for u

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // talks of religion, reader's parents are religious, light manipulation, pillow humping, humping, first times, dacryphilia, corruption kink, praise kink, masturbation, smut, slight dubcon //please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!

ao3 // chapter one // chapter two // masterlist // series masterlist

-:-:-:-:-

It was a kiss only the Devil knew: fierce and decidedly unvirginal, tasting like cigarettes and salty tears the moment Eddie’s mouth was on yours. What had only been a fantasy to him for years, just became reality, and he didn’t know how to react. This was something he would think about nearly every second of the day — from times you would apply lip gloss on while looking in your locker mirror, to the way you bit the same shiny lips during the day if you found something he did funny. Getting to kiss you was a blessing and Eddie was going to let you know that. 

His lips were soft, only moving gently at first so you could get used to the feeling. You swear the kiss took over your entire body, because now you were grabbing Eddie’s hair to pull him closer. Everything within you wanted more, but the lingering guilt from your confession came back just as you felt his soft tongue lick your bottom lip. 

“E-Eddie,” you breathed out, letting go from his vice grip for a moment. “What are we doing?”

“Kissing,” the man teased before stroking your neck to guide you towards his lips again. You nearly gave in, but the guilt took over. 

“We can’t, this is wrong my parents are upstairs and they might —”

“Do you want to stop?” Eddie cut you off, and the deepness of his voice resonated through your body. 

“No, I don’t.” With that, you made the first move to kiss him now, tilting your head upwards to join your lips together. No matter how wrong this was, no matter how many times your family and friends said that there was no dating or kissing boys ever — you didn’t care. The Angel on your shoulder wanted this too. 

Eddie’s lips lingered on yours for a few moments, peeking his tongue through to see if you would understand what he was trying to do. Then, with one stroke down your spine, where he knew you would tingle, you gasped, letting his tongue in. It felt strange, but soft, as he explored for a few seconds before you tried to follow. 

“Is this French kissing?” you whimpered between kisses. 

“Yes, it is.” Eddie began to leave a trail with his mouth from your cheek down to your neck. “How do you know about that? I thought you were a good girl.” 

“I am, a-aah good girl,” you moaned loudly as he started to lick and suck against your pulse. “I read it in a magazine accidentally.” 

“Accidentally?” he whispered into your neck with a slight chuckle, while holding your body so he could guide you to lay down with your head on the left armrest. 

You started to feel lightheaded as he continued kissing your neck and stroking up and down your body. “Yes, it was at my friend’s house during a sleepover.”

“Did you like it?” he teased, looking you straight in the eye again. You nodded, then grasped the front of your friend’s shirt to pull him down to kiss you again. 

Eddie could see that you were nervous, but the talking was helping you relax as each moment passed. So much so, that the new position of you laying down made it so your legs had more of an opportunity to unknowingly rub against each other. He wondered if you realized just how much you were whimpering and moaning into his mouth, and especially if you recognized the denim-clad hardness rutting against your thigh. 

After a few minutes of sweet kisses between the two of you. Some where he would need to hum into your mouth to get you to slow down, Eddie went to shift both your bodies slightly so he could lay on his side with his head on the arm rest with you — his back to the plush of the sofa. He couldn’t help but smile at the heat that kept rising to your cheeks as you eagerly tried to deepen the kiss. 

“This feels so nice, Eddie,” you tried to whimper as quietly as possible so your parents still thought you two were working on the project. With soft lips, Eddie tried to get you to slow down and loosen the grip on his shirt. 

“Yeah?” he slowly kissed the side of your mouth then moved his head back to look you in the eye while stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

“And we aren’t sinning right now, right?” You look up at him nervously. 

“No, nothing too naughty is happening right now,” he chuckled while going down to meet your foreheads together. 

“But, I’m feeling the same way I did all those nights, Eddie. What if—”

He tilted his head towards you again, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. “Don’t feel guilty for such a beautiful thing you can’t control.”

His words were always so kind to you. Even now as you began to release a tear or two out of your nervousness, Eddie was able to wipe them and soothe the shivers you did in his arms. “I w-want more. But, we shouldn’t — I shouldn't — Eddie, please help me with my sins.” 

“Thought you’d never ask,” he smiled as he saw the way you kept clenching your thighs together at the pleasure only a few minutes of kissing gave you. Eddie went to linger on your lips again, drinking your moans, and tasting the remnants of the strawberry lipgloss you enjoyed so much. While you tugged the hair on the back of his head every time you felt a strong wave of pleasure. 

As you opened your lips to draw a breath, he took that chance to taste you with his tongue quickly, before moving down to whisper sweet nothings into your neck. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that? How I longed for the moment I got to kiss an Angel, only to find out she’s been making herself come every single night for weeks?” Eddie said on your pulse as his hands roamed your back and thighs. “Maybe I do believe in God.” 

“What do you mean?” You whispered, not realizing how his mouth was leaving marks all over your neck. 

“I’ve dreamed about this for years. Now that I have you in my arms, begging for me to sin with you — there’s a part of me that thinks I’m still asleep,” he recited as he kissed his way up to your mouth again, wanting you to inhale his love through the words. Then, he moved his hands on your left knee, before trying to stroke his way up your inner thigh. 

“Sometimes I dream about you too,” you blushed at the thought that the basement confessional was still ongoing. “Then I think of your nice touches all over my body and how it makes me tingle because I want more. Just like how you’re doing now.” 

Eddie touched the sides of your thighs, massaging slowly, only going underneath the hem of your skirt for a moment before going back down to the already exposed skin. “Like this?” You nodded with a whimper in response. “How about something like t-this?” He said through gritted teeth, right as he squeezed the plush of your bottom. 

“Y-yeah, once in a while,” you shyly admitted. “I thought it would feel good if you touched me there. It does.” 

“Good to know, sweetheart.” Eddie smiled to himself. “Do you want me to do more?” Although every cell in his body wanted to commit a plethora of sins with you, he knew this was probably the most traumatic and overwhelming past few days for you. He wanted you to say that you needed to do this with him. 

“What were you thinking? I think if you helped me like I help myself, it would be weird.” He tilted his head out of confusion. “I don’t want you to move a pillow beneath me,” you said the words with such innocent eyes that Eddie couldn't help but kiss your nose before speaking again. 

“Like I said before, I could do all the work on your pretty little pussy. I can do so much more than a pillow, baby. That’s what friends — best friends — are for, to help each other when they need it.” Eddie began to move his fingers to the front of your thighs, right underneath your skirt, inching his way closer and closer to your cotton panties. “We can pretend that I’m your pillow.” 

You giggle at the idea, heat flooding in your face out of sheer embarrassment. “But pillows are soft, you’re hard.” 

“Y-yeah, so fucking hard,” Eddie giggled alongside you, but he found your unknown innuendo cute. After one last kiss to your lips, he left you alone at the armrest to lay above your stretched out figure. His hands were moving everywhere, nearly distracting you from the way his leg was stroking yours as you slowly opened them. 

The plush of your thigh brushed up against his hardness when you felt Eddie squeeze your butt again. He groaned into your mouth then shot up to sit in front of you — your right leg in between both of his knees. As he looked at you with fire in his eyes and swollen lips, something awoke in you. Eddie, your friend for the past few years was basically eating you alive, and you didn’t want it any other way. As his eyes made a trail from your panting lips all the way down to your thighs, you started to feel self-conscious at the fact that he might be able to look up your skirt. 

Even if his hands have been up them for half the night. 

To him though, you looked like an Angel looking up at him: lips quivering, thighs unknowingly squeezing together, and your eyes brimming with tears at the pleasure you’re feeling. Even your voice sounded equally as beautiful and Angelic to his ears. 

“So, Eddie, are you gonna help me?” you looked at him whilst biting your lip and pushing your skirt down at how exposed you feel. 

“Am I going to help you sin?” he waited for you to nod slightly before continuing. “Of course I am. But I’ve been helping you this whole time, haven’t I? Making your body tingle just the way you like it before you start to sin in bed, huh?” Eddie never looked away from your eyes as he said the words while trying to pry your thighs apart by leaving featherlight touches on them. Once they were spread wider than they have tonight you gasped. 

“It’s too much now, everything feels a lot more intense than when I’m alone though,” you whimpered out as you let go of holding down your skirt, and let Eddie trace patterns in your inner thigh underneath the tartan pattern. 

“Trust me, that’s a good thing,” his hand squeezed your thigh tightly before he brought himself lower to kiss you. While you found yourself sitting up, craving his lips on yours, and meeting him in the middle. As Eddie kissed you deeply and started to rock his hardness on your thighs lightly, he moaned at the feeling. It wasn’t the right angle though, so the man held you tightly before pushing your back onto the armrest so you were sitting up at an angle. 

“Are you feeling that way too?” You question him between kisses since he started moving so much quicker than before. “Eddie?” The moan came out involuntarily. 

“Yeah, baby, I’m definitely feeling that way.” An idea popped inside his head. “You said you put your pillow right here, huh?” The Dealer lifted your skirt slightly so his fingers could find a wet spot on your cotton panties; but Dear Lord, the whole thing was nearly drenched as he felt it. “And that feels good right?”

You nodded, looking back and forth from his eyes to where his hand was placed. “Y-yes, it feels nice every time I—” a loud yelp left your throat as Eddie started to stroke slow circles right above where your hardened nub was. “What are you doing?” you whispered while biting your lip to stop you from moving your hips forward for more. 

Eddie swooped down to capture your lips with a smile one last time before placing himself to sit between your legs, ensuring both of your thighs were on top of his before speaking. “This, my sweet girl, is what you’ve been rubbing against, it can make anyone scream if you hit it just right.” He continued rubbing slow circles on the cloth-covered clit, making you mewl at the touch. 

“It feels different now, with your f-fingers,” you felt Eddie lift your skirt up fully, showing him the baby blue panties you put on this morning. The exact same colour he saw you wear during that homecoming dance years before, and swore you were an Angel sent to earth for him. 

Heat flooded to your face out of embarrassment of being so much more exposed to your friend now more than ever. “Look how wet you are, if we aren’t careful, we’re gonna ruin your dad’s nice couch.” 

“Let’s ruin it then,” you couldn’t think before speaking, all you could focus on was how nice Eddie’s fingers felt, adding more pressure every time you bucked your hips forward at him. 

“Such a bad girl, sinning in your parents' house every night. Now you’re doing it with the Devil, begging him to commit the sins for you — does that make you feel good?”

“You make me feel good.”

If Eddie knew you had such a mouth on you, he would’ve been playing with you in this way so much sooner. 

He decided to forget that thought, and memorize how you looked in the present. He was enchanted by all of you and the way his Angel could be so bad, just for him. Only for him. Eddie wanted to see you come undone in the same way you’ve been doing yourself for nights — only this time, he wanted to be the one to help get you there. 

So he continued playing with your clit over the cotton panties, flicking up and down, or using two fingers to pinch it: which he found out you really enjoyed. While the other hand played with the waistband, snapping it to get you out of your blissful haze. “Do you ever take these off when you really can’t sleep?” 

“Sometimes, b-but not all the time. I find the pillow gets too wet if I do.” No man has ever wanted to be an inanimate object so bad in their entire life, until Eddie heard those words come out of your lips. 

“F-fuck,” he muttered at the thought, the tightness of his jeans making itself known because of his growing hardness. “Can we take it—”

“No,” you exclaimed while sitting yourself up to grab his shirt’s neckline. “That would be bad, my parents said I should never show it to anyone.” 

“I’m not just anyone, am I?” Eddie kissed you sweetly while holding your face with the hand that was on your panty’s waistband a moment ago. Then guided you back down to lay on the couch again, whilst he followed. “But, that’s okay, we are still going to have fun, if you still want to.” 

“I-I do, please. Can you do that thing some more?” you begged while moving your hips towards the hand of his that was still locked on your wetness. 

Eddie couldn't take it. You were begging, squirming, and whimpering below him for so long that every small movement was felt from his hand to the front of his jeans. So he let go of his hold on your core, causing a whimper of sadness to escape your throat, before he spoke again. “There’s something I want to try. I promise it’ll help you and I feel so good.” 

You could see the desperation in his eyes for the first time tonight. Eddie was going to help you tonight by helping you fall asleep soundly after he does the sinning for you — so why not help him in return? It’s a nice thing to do, right? “Will it be anything bad?” 

“No, Angel, nothing bad at all, it will just be me. Just like I said before, your pretty little pussy won’t need to do a thing — you’ll be sinless tonight, pinky promise.” Eddie holds out his finger in front of your face, knowing full well he lied; however, if it means that you could be happy at least once today, he would do anything. 

“Then, alright,” you join your own pinky with his, before you both kiss your hands simultaneously. “What did you want to try?” 

Eddie coughed loudly making you both giggle then shush him. “Well, tonight I could be your pillow in a way. Just imagine we’re in your bed in the middle of the night and you grab that big stuffed bear I know you have.” 

“I don’t see how that could possibly help you though. Normally, I just use Mr. Honey’s button nose or leg.” The confession came out of you so easily that it even shocked you for a moment once it was blurted out. “Does that mean you’re going to look at my —”

“No, no, no, you said you didn’t want to show me so that’s alright. I was thinking you could use a different part of me than that toy,” Eddie took a moment to stroke your sides as he went to sit up again. Your panties were still on display to him, the wetness still seeping through. If only he could be your bear and use his nose on you too. 

But now, he started to unbuckle his belt, the silver metal making echoing noises through the basement. Then when Eddie untucked his white shirt from his grey jeans, you saw a glimpse of the defined stomach, and hair leading towards the bottom. Something deep down began to throb, just like how you felt those nights right before you had to sin. Unsure of what to do, you moved your hips so your thighs would squish together and offer you some relief. 

Eddie was just about to start pulling down his denim, when he heard you moan. He looks away for one second, and your body was already begging for more. 

“You naughty girl, I haven’t even taken off any clothing yet and you’re turned on.”

“What do you want to do, Eddie? Please, tell me.” You ignore his comment and reach for his thigh to help him in his conquest of trying to give you a seductive strip tease.

“Needy, needy. I thought you said you don’t want to sin, sweetheart?” 

“B-but I haven’t sinned in three days,” you quietly started to sob. “You need to do it for me, I need you, Eddie.”

His cock was really about to peek out of his boxer brief waistband now. Your friend could feel the precum leaking on the cotton, wondering how it would feel to get your wetness on it instead. So he ripped off his pants quickly before diving down to kiss your tears. “I know, we’ll get you there soon, promise. Can you open your legs a bit more for me, pretty girl?”

You did as he asked, your sobs subsiding as you felt pleasure again from the feeling of his fingers circling your clothed clit again. “Why did you take off your pants?” You breathed out. 

“You see how you’re so wet now, huh? Practically dripping all over my fingers just from one touch?” Eddie grabbed your right hand to gently place it on his stomach then drag it down to his achingly hard cock. “Well, this is how my body reacts to you and everything you’ve been doing tonight. So fucking beautiful, laying here in your pretty skirt — moaning my name any chance you got. It’s music to my ears, and my cock,” he chuckled out. 

The heat rose to your face quickly at the words, but then curiosity took over your mind, as you released your hand from his to squeeze the top of what he said you did to him. “We learned about this in health class,” you giggled as he started to groan above you. 

Eddie had to balance himself on the back of the couch since you were squeezing and rubbing your thumb against his head at all the right angles. The man could have finished right there if he didn’t remember that you were the one who really needed the help here. 

“What you’re touching r-right now, is the head, a-and fuck,” he wasn’t able to contain his moans now, nearly thrusting into your hand with each word. “It will feel good for you too if w-we just move positions a little.” 

“Are you in pain, Eddie?” 

“No, baby, your hand just feels really nice, like how you reacted to my own.” Truly, the man was in pain, the blood rushing through his cock was unbearable at the moment. So Eddie quickly held your face to start kissing you again, a feeling you both missed over the past few minutes. Then he moved his body downwards slightly, ensuring that your skirt was flipped up, and your cores were touching. The drenched cotton barrier added more pleasurable friction than you both would have thought. 

The stark contrast between your baby blue panties, to his black and red boxers, was such a beautiful juxtaposition. Representing the both of you, so different, yet still so complimentary. There was a reason why the Devil and Angel always stood at people’s shoulders, telling them what was right from wrong. They couldn’t stay away from one another — like you and Eddie have been since you began this friendship. 

“So this is what I felt earlier, I thought it was your leg,” you smiled into the kisses as your hands made a trail to reach for his mane. 

“That big, huh?” Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle before placing his lips on your pulse to make more marks. 

“Is it supposed to be this big? Is that a good thing?” 

“For some people, it’s a good thing. What about you?” He thrusted his hips upwards, applying pressure to your needy clit — making you gasp at the pleasure. 

After a momentary shock, you moved your hips like you normally do every night. But instead, it was on something that felt so much nicer against your folds than the sometimes too-soft pillow. “I think I like it big. So it fits on m-my sensitive place like a puzzle piece.” 

“You like how it feels, huh? It’s like your pussy is begging for more, Princess.” Eddie continued to rock against you, trying to find the rhythm that made you whimper louder with each move. 

“I do want more, please,” you moaned loudly as you felt Eddie’s hands move beneath your sweater. 

“So polite for me,” he said with gritted teeth, thrusting onto you harder. “Remember, baby, I said I would do all the work so you don’t need to do any sinning yourself, right?” 

You nodded quickly — only wanting him to continue talking to you with his teasingly deep voice, and use his hard cock on you all night. “S-sorry, I forgot. It just feels so-ahh.” Your friend started to massage your breasts under your sweater with one hand, flicking and squeezing your nipple to make you whimper more. 

“Shhh, keep your voice down. Your parents might hear that you’re sinning with the Devil. I don’t want you getting in more trouble this week.” Your pussy was sopping now, pulsing against the underside of his cock every few moments. The things he would do if he was able to be inside of you now. 

His voice, his fingers on your hard nipples, his mouth leaving kisses from your lips to your neck, his member hitting you at every perfect angle imaginable — you swear it was overwhelming. The feelings were so intense that you could nearly see stars as everything worked in tandem to get you closer and closer to your climax. No pillow would do you justice now. If you could have Eddie over every night to help sin for you, so that you would sleep like a rock afterwards: then you would be the most well-rested individual on this planet. 

“I like it when you tell me what to do,” you thought out loud. “That’s what I thought about all those nights I sinned,” if he said he was going to be your pillow, then you were going to tell him what it was like to be the feathery case. 

“Oh yeah?” He wasn’t able to comprehend the music in his ears. 

“Y-yes, like the voice you use when you ask me to pick something up for you, or to get into the car quickly. It’s so sweet but stern.” Eddie began to kiss you again, distracting you so he could easily bend your left leg higher, changing the angle he was thrusting against you with. The new position allowed his sensitive head to go from your entrance to your clit, so much better than what any pillow could do.

“Did you imagine that I was telling you what to do while you rode that pillow?” 

Eddie kept looking between your eyes and the place where your bodies met, making you look down as well. You moaned at the sight, everything was so slippery, and the pressure on your heat was so strong. You wished you could roll your hips with him, but it was too overwhelming to think about sinning some more. 

“Uh-huh,” you whimpered out. “And your hands too, guiding me to move faster and faster — just like now. I imagine all those times you helped me fix my skirt. You’re so nice to me, Eddie.” You kept your eyes on his as he smiled while drinking up your moans with his lips. “I wish you were there to help me get rid of my body aches every time.” 

“I do too, sweetheart. Every night I could’ve made you live out those fantasies. Like holding your hips to make you slow down,” Eddie did with his own movements in real life. “Or maybe I could grip even harder and move your pussy so much faster for you. It would leave bruises that will probably never heal.” 

“That’s okay,” you screamed as he started to kiss the tears that unknowingly left your eyes, while rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit. “I don’t want them to.” 

“You’re so wet for me, soaking your panties all this time, and you never told me. No pussy this beautiful should ever go deprived of what it wants most.” Eddie kissed down your neck and sat up on his knees again, anchoring himself a lot better now to massage your legs — a move you’ve been loving all night. 

He goes to touch your wetness with his fingers too, in between thrusts. Collecting some of it, then licking his fingers to get a taste of the sweet nectar he has always craved. “What are you doing?” You ask, his movements causing your insides to throb around nothingness. 

“Just having a taste,” Eddie nearly moans his words, memorizing the look of lust that filled your eyes as you watched him lick his fingers. “I’ve been dreaming about this moment since the day our lockers were placed next to each other. You were so beautiful with your hair that smelled so sweet, and t-these fucking skirts,” he said through gritted teeth, thrusting onto you slowly so he didn’t climax before you did tonight. 

“Your favourite is the one I have on now right? You always told me at some point during the day.” But, not today — you wanted to add. But everything he was doing to you now was more than compliment enough. 

“So short, so bouncy. I would ask you to pick things off the floor just so I can get a glimpse of whatever panties you were wearing.” 

“You're a pervert,” you giggled and moaned, trying to stroke your fingers up and down his stomach.

“And a sinner, baby, that’s why we’re here.” 

The man began to lift your sweater to show the planes of your stomach, making you gasp in the process once the cold air hit you. “Eddie, don’t take it off, please,” you pouted. 

“Sorry, I just want to see them quickly, is that alright?” You nodded before he continued his movements. “Do you ever touch these, all those nights you sinned?” 

You bit your lip at the topic of sinning again. “Yes, but only sometimes when I was lying down.” Right then, Eddie lifted your sweater just above your breasts, while simultaneously pushing the cups of your bra down so he could get a look at the hardened nipples. This is going to be an image he would remember forever: your heat nearly swallowing his hardness, your whimpers as you spoke, and the bounce of your tits with each one of his thrusts. Then there was the small crucifix that found its way between your breasts from all the twisting and turning tonight — you really were about to become the death of him. 

Your self-consciousness came back as you saw him pause to stare at you for a few moments, so you moved one of your arms to cover up. 

“You look so pretty like this, don’t be shy now.” He placed a hand on your wrist to shift it to the side, as he wanted to massage your breasts slowly again tonight. Your moans only became louder, not caring if your parents would hear. But, Eddie cared, so he kissed you to simmer down your noises. 

“Eddie,” you breathed out between a kiss. “Your mouth feels so nice on my neck, do you think it would feel good on my —”

You didn’t get the chance to finish the question of your curiousty before Eddie latched his lips on your left nipple. He licked and sucked one with his mouth, while he massaged the other with his large hands. It always felt best when he bit your nipple harshly every time you thrust your hips upwards to grind in tandem with his — he would say it’s your mini punishment for not letting him do all the sinning for you. But, you ask yourself again for what feels like the millionth time tonight: how could something that’s supposed to be bad feel so good? 

“You have the most beautiful tits, fuck,” Eddie breathed out while licking the pebbled nipples. “I always knew they would be gorgeous,” right then, he sucked on the skin hard enough to leave the newest mark on your skin, claiming you as his. 

“I think something is happening,” you moaned out, grasping on his hair to pull him closer to your flesh. 

The new combination of his lips on your chest, both of your cores rubbing against each other at the perfect angle, and one of his hands stroking up and down your sides to your thighs — made for your insides to start clenching towards something familiar. 

“You gonna come? I know you can do it, sweet girl. This is what you wanted for the past three days,” Eddie tried to contain himself, the excitement of your impending orgasm overtaking his body. He knew it was coming, since you would squeeze your thighs together and your cunt would throb every few thrusts. Your crying only made him want to release alongside with you. 

“Do you feel good, too, Eddie? I want to—” tears were streaming down your face now at the pleasure. 

“Don’t worry about me, trust, f-fuck,” he whimpered at how you got even wetter around him. So he focused his head on your clit again, going up to kiss your lips as you were about to reach your bliss. 

Once his hands were on your hips, gripping so hard that it would surely leave a bruise tomorrow, you felt yourself moan loudly into his mouth. The familiar feeling of relief was slowly getting to you now. Eddie moved faster and faster, finding the perfect rhythm where the friction of the fabric and his cock was massaging your folds beautifully. Then there was the way the fabric of his shirt felt against your sore breasts — adding to the way he was making your entire body shake.

With one last searing kiss, and you both moving your hips in tandem to the other, you came. Your pussy throbbing harshly, causing a loud whimper to escape your throat. For so many weeks you’ve been moaning into your pillow, biting your lip until it bled, or breathed deeply instead of making a noise. But with Eddie, you were able to let go, letting him hear just how much you loved his sinning for you. 

“Such pretty noises, baby,” Eddie says between kisses. “Does my cock feel good on you? Did I make you come?” 

“Y-yes, Eddie,” you cried out before whimpering again at the feeling of him above you moving with more pressure. With the sound of his name leaving your lips, it was time for Eddie to come undone.

So he did.

Moving harder against your now overly sensitive clit and folds. He knew you could take it, after relieving yourself multiple times a night in the past. The Dealer hissed as he released his seed inside his boxers, thrusting slowly as he let go completely. 

“So good for me, fuck, I’ve dreamed about this moment for so damn long.” Eddie’s voice was deep as he touched his forehead on yours. 

You both moved your hips slowly as you got down from your highs. He moved his hand to your face, wiping away some tears that he loved so much. “That was so much better than every single time I’ve used my pillow combined,” you breathed out quietly, your eyes nearly closing at the exhaustion of the entire day. 

“Next time, you’re gonna show me how you sin. Are you gonna invite me into your bedroom, sweetheart?” he teased. 

“N-no, that’s not allowed,” you said in slight panic, “I promised not to sin anymore, and my parents don’t let anyone come in my room.”

Eddie chuckled at your words, since you didn’t realize how you would have confessed to a priest about your transgressions if you weren’t so convinced that he did all the sinning for you; and the innuendo you added in at the end. “That’s too bad,” Eddie pouted with big eyes, jokingly. 

“Uh-hm, but maybe, if I ever feel the urge to want to be naughty then I’ll ask you to help me, since it helped you so much too, and that’s what friends do,” you sweetly repeated his words from earlier tonight. It made his heart feel warm, while it made Eddie’s brain and cock think about the next time this would happen. So, with a wide smile on his face, he kissed your lips deeply before making a trail of soft kisses down your neck and crumpled sweater. 

“So you want to do it again?” Eddie emphasized his question by fixing your clothing, but also thrusting up slowly one last time. 

You nodded, biting your lip while whimpering slightly at the movement. “Yes, I do,” you both wanted so badly to continue what just happened — whether it was tonight or for everyday for the rest of your lives, you didn’t care. 

“I’ll help you sin any time, sweetheart,” Eddie continued to place chaste kisses all over your face and neck. But just as you were about to moan as a response, the worst thing that could happen, did. 

The door to the basement opened loudly, with the sound of footsteps walking down the stairs following. You and Eddie looked at each other in a panic. He jumped off you quickly, grabbing his pants to throw on, not knowing where his belt was; but he didn’t care, there was no way your mother was about to catch him half-naked. She would probably throw holy water on him if she had the chance. 

On the other hand, you stood up from the couch after him, your legs feeling extremely wobbly as you began to walk towards the table you both were working on all night. Each step made you feel wetness that accumulated throughout the night, and you were so sensitive that the movement would make a quiet squelching sound. Once you finally stood at the table, whilst fixing your hair and reapplying lip gloss to your swollen mouth — your mother appeared, standing at the bottom of the stairs and looking out to you.

Her eyes darted from you standing at the table, looking slightly exhausted, to Eddie seated at the couch, his back to her and it looked like he was rummaging through his backpack. What hardworking students these two are, she thought — since it looks like you two were finished with the project and just wanted to wrap it up for the night. 

“How’s the project? I was just getting ready for bed and I saw Mr. Munson’s van still in the driveway,” she said with a slight yawn. 

“Yes, mom, we just finished working. Eddie and I just had to help each other on one thing before he had to go.” It wasn’t exactly a lie — but he was smirking from the couch to see how easily the little cover up was flowing out of your mouth. “Because that’s what friends do,” you whispered to yourself, but Eddie was able to hear the giggly tone. 

“Alright then, why don’t I help you clean up?” 

“No it’s alright, it should only take a few minutes—”

Eddie coughed once he got his pants quietly secured. “Honestly, I’m very good with my hands so it should be quick,” he said with a teasing smile and a wink in your direction. Although you were easily able to cover up the activities you two did a few minutes ago, there was no hiding how heat rose to your face at Eddie’s words. 

“Well, if the two of you are alright, then I guess I’ll just head to bed then,” your mother looked at you one last time to confirm if you needed help or not. 

“I’ll see him out when we’re finished, thank you, mom.” The sweet smile on your face was enough to make her head to bed with contentment. But, the smile quickly became more and more sinister as each step up the stairs got quieter. When the door was finally shut again, your legs were shaking out of anticipation, unsure if you were able to say the next set of words. So you turned to face Eddie again, thighs squeezed shut to subdue the ever present ache after your orgasm. 

The Devil and Angel on your shoulders were resting hand in hand now. Not nagging or taunting you every second in your head, telling you what was right from wrong, teasing you with what you should and shouldn’t want. Now, it was clear that there was a fine line between what was the holy thing to do and what wasn’t, because why would God make something so bad feel so good?

And so, with lust in your eyes and sinister swollen lips, you whispered loudly enough for it to echo along the walls of the basement and into Eddie’s eager ears, as he casually sat on the arm rest whilst staring at your ever-glowing figure. 

“Do you want to sin for me one more time before you go?” 

It was that night you realized: Sundays were for confession, Mondays were for committing your sins all over again.

-:-:-:-:-

taglist: @bbyhargrove // @delightfulwinnerdiplomatpalace // @littlemrsmunson // @lolalanaie // @nope-thanks

[puff0o0]

okok basically just wondering how tf141 would react/treat a religious s/o? I know they would be so understanding and sweet about it, I would love to those those thoughts written down 🤧

Hii!! I'm not religious so I tried to do research on the basics of every religion so it wasn't specified 😢 if there is a specific one you want, feel free to request it !! 🩷🌟

Gaz

☆ VERY UNDERSTANDING OF IT NO MATTER THE RELIGION.

☆ Like all the boys here, he would do anything and everything for you to make sure you were happy and content- if that meant buying you some stuff? sure. If it meant sitting there with you at a church or somewhere else? on his way

☆ There is nothing he wouldn't do and this is just added onto the list of stuff he would do. Like Ghost, he also does his research so he can understand everything about it. He also asks you so he can (hear your voice) learn more without having to factcheck the source

Ghost

☆ He kept it in mind, making sure to add it to his mental list of everything about you. He'll go to the places and sit there with you and buy stuff if you need it, he doesn't mind. I don't really see him as a religious guy, but he will gladly listen to you talk about yours

☆ As long as you're happy, he's happy

☆ He'll ask questions about it and even do his own research- he wants to understand and get to know every little thing about you after all

Soap

☆ Very understanding as he is catholic. He doesn't expect you to indulge in his stuff and he probably won't do the same for yours unless it's visiting a place weekly. He will gladly listen to you ramble or talk about it as he is open to learning more about other religions

☆ Anything you need him to do he's pretty much doing

☆ Like everyone else here, will buy stuff for you if you need it or will take you to the places you need to go and stay there with you

Price

☆ Very, very understanding. He will do pretty much anything with you if you ask him to. He doesn't mind doing it in the slightest and won't throw up much of a complaint unless he's really really tired, but then again, when is he too tired for you?

☆ Will listen to you when you explain your religion to him and won't mock you for it

☆ He'll even buy the stuff for you if you have anything necessary to have in your religion, he enjoys seeing you happy and making you smile

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

weñl since I'm new to the AU and already ate every post.... Could you drop some lore of The Prototype and his link to the toys? (especially with Catnap seeing as how he recently calls him "dad" but I wonder how before he allowed Theo to consider him a God and worship him)

For my AU, the Prototype was originally Elliot Ludwig himself. He had an adopted daughter and lost her due to an illness, and then had the brilliant idea to start dubiously ethical experiments in order to bring her back. He eventually volunteered himself to be the first human to become a toy, only to realize, far too late, that without him in charge mr. Harley "what is ethics if not another rule to break in the name of SCIENCE" Sawyer would go "what if i broke every single rule Elliot ever imposed on me". Also I have adopted @lassieposting's hc about Elliot being a military veteran, which is important for this because now this man feels like he, once again, is seeing a tragedy that should have never existed at ALL.

Prototype took care of little Theo/Catnap as if he were his own son (also taken from lassieposting because good headcanons are GOOD headcanons), and after the Hour of Joy and him realizing that the toys can't go outside without risking even more death and people hunting them, he taught Catnap how to hunt. After he learned how to look after himself Catnap became more independent, and Theo was always a kind of religious boy, and that combined with him seeing Prototype as a hero made him undergo the biggest catholic moment in the history of Playtime Co.

Prototype doesn't like being called a god, but Catnap doing that did help him impose more rules on the toys ("don't go outside so humans won't find us and capture us again", "don't torture each other even if you are really hungry", "if you see a human kill it and give it to me so we can all have food"). Unfortunately their distance grew as time went on, and Prototype just. Never actually tried doing anything to stop Catnap from being like That. Again, it was helping him, and he sees Catnap as the child he failed to protect, and he just never knew how to address the elephant in the room. This entire situation was 100% Prototype's fault for not attempting to sit down with Catnap and tell him to cut it off.

Prototype has a trillion communication issues, honestly. For this AU he helped deliver Poppy's call for help to the Player/Angel, not that she knew that, because he decided that everyone had enough. He wanted someone to save the toys, even if by "saving" it meant "killing them off", because Prototype figured it was better than being alive in that nightmare.

And then Angel saved Huggy, throwing Prototype's whole plan away.

And then Bunzo, the mini huggies, PJ Pug-a-Pillar, and then Mommy Long Legs, and then Miss Delight and Dogday, and then Catnap, even when the big feline begged Prototype to end his suffering. The Angel took care of all of them. They never dared leave anyone behind.

Prototype changed his plan for it to just be for him to die, because he caused everyone to become a toy. He deserved that fate more than anyone, at least in his eyes.

And then Angel convinced him to live. The deal they made was for Prototype to help them take care of everyone and stop anyone from ever find all the documentation about how the experiments were done, and only just enough info for the humans outside to know the toys are alive and were previously innocent children. After Angel finds a bigger house, Catnap convinces Prototype to come in with them, and he reluctantly agrees.

It'll be really funny when Angel realizes Poppy was Elliot's daughter, because our favorite porcelain doll does NOT know Elliot is the Prototype. Actually, NO ONE knows that, not even Catnap himself. When Angel finds out they DEMAND Prototype to talk to Poppy because what the HECK, you already failed to communicate with one kid and now you fail to communicate with ANOTHER?

Anyways, family drama aside, Angel and Prototype unironically make a very good parent duo. Prototype knows how the toys work, while Angel knows how to be gentle and assuring. They teach the other a lot about what to do, but the majority of the toys are too afraid to talk with Prototype to learn that he's Father Material If You Ignore The Communication Issues. Catnap can confirm!

[romanarose]

If You Wanna Be Wild: Chapter 2

Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader/OC x Santiago Garcia

Join my general tag list (Comment to join the tag list for this fic)

Triple Frontier Master List

Series Masterlist : Read on AO3

Summary: Javi and Santi talk about where to start with Lorea; Santi thinks on his night with Candy

Content and warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter unless something is added: Sex work, drug trade, some drug use/pressured used, sex workers and the mistreatment/stigma surrounding them specifically in the 70’s (my blog is sex worker positive) but ima put potential dub con depending how you look at it as a sex worker who works with dangerous men, some action surrounding reader and the guys and the drug trade, SMUT HEAVY, corruption kink (were corrupting santi here, he’s young, 25), no loss of virginity tho, threesomes, some slight m/m smut but that’s not the focus here, but as you know this blog is an lgbt blog so I’m always open to gay shit. Talk of war and some PTSD but I won't be going a whole lot into it.

Additional warnings: Catholic guilt and religous trauma and religion talk. However, this is not an anti catholic page. We can discuss the problems of the church at large and the guilt that abstence-only and shame based discussions on sex can affect people, but my family is catholic and I have a lot of respect for the individual people, especially Latino-catholics.

For the record, this is a fic that takes place in the drug trade and deals with the darker side of humanity, so anything from Narco's and Triple Frontier is liable to be discussed or mentioned here. This is your warning. This is not a dark fic nor is it centered around dark themes like Leather and Lace or Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside, but they are open to be talked about.

Reader has a nick name: Candy. Not her real name just what she goes by on her profession. Much of the inspo for this and for the title came from the Bruce Springsteen song “Candy’s room” so check it out for the vibes.

Reader speaks Spanish and had hair. I've decided Candy is just latina coded bc she's a sex worker in colombia so this is what I'm doing.

3.1k words. Proof red by my beloved Fen

Perspective changed per section. When perspective is Santi or Javi, reader is referred to in the 3rd person or by Candy.

************************

You have Santi sat up on the bed, facing you. Well, Diego. That’s what he said his name was, but if he thought you didn’t know who the new DEA agent in town was, he was mistaken. After your 3rd arrest for prostitution, you got a lot more careful, and always tried to keep up with the police in the area. You wondered if he knew Javi.

“Alright Diego, tell me, what exactly is it you’re looking for?” You ask, but he looks confused, so you give a soft, warm sigh. He was one of those ones. “Are you just looking for a quick fuck? Getting to know each other and forming a connection, exploring things?”

Santi considered his options. “Well, maybe I’d like to learn a little bit… only had s-” He swallowed. “sex a few times… you know, lights off, missionary, couple pumps and done…” A nervous chuckle emitted from him, so you tried to ease him with a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, baby boy, we can do that. Let’s start with getting to know a woman’s body, how about that?”

*

“Garcia, wake the fuck up.” Javi’s voice broke Santi out of his daydreaming, making him snap towards Javi.

“Huh? Sorry.”

“Whatsamatter, pretty boy, got dicked down too hard last night?”

Santi’s eyes went wide at that. “Dicked-?!?! DICKED DOWN? JAVI!” He leaned in to whisper harshly, as if it was important enough to keep quiet but not so bad Santi couldn’t miss an opportunity to clutch his pearls. “Javi, you fucking know I could get arrested for that!”

“I’m joking, pendejo.”

“You shouldn’t joke about that!”

Apparently, Santi looked concerned enough that Javi backed down, raising his hands in defeat. “Tranquilo, tranquilo amigo, lo siento. Yo parare.”

A little shaken, Santi glanced down as he calmed himself. “Gracias, Pena”. He rolled his shoulders and shook his head before clearing his throat. “So. Lorea. What do we got?”

*

Santiago Garcia had never seen a pussy up close before. There’d been porno magazines, sure… and he’d… touched a bit. He wasn’t an animal, Will had explained he can’t just shove his dick into a woman, that could hurt her. No, you gotta warm her up first, seduce her, open her up. Santi heard more than he ever wanted to of the sordid detail of Will eating pussy. However, when it came to actual sex, Santi barely got through it without a panic attack. There was no way he was going to attempt to go down on a girl under those conditions. Still, he didn’t want to hurt her, so he made sure to finger the 3 girls he’d somehow bumbled his way into bed with.

He needed to do better. Candy was allowing him the chance to explore, get over his nerves.

“But I want you to cum…” He had insisted.

“Well aren’t you a sweet boy… I’ll make sure I cum, how about that? Let me worry about that.”

“But…” he had looked across at her. “But I wanna learn how too.”

She nodded with reassurance. “You will, trust me, I’ll teach you. Just for today, focus on getting comfortable. I’ll let you know what feels good and what doesn’t but what works for me may not work for someone else, so remember that. Most important thing is communicating and listening to her body, so let’s start there.”

That’s how he got here, flat on his chest with Candy’s legs spread out before him. Her pussy was glistening for him.

“Where do I… how do I start?”

Candy sat up just a bit on her elbows. “Start by just getting familiar, explore.”

So he did. Santi started with touching. His index and middle finger swept along her folds, moving and opening her up for his view. She was beautiful. He started with the top, the area just below her pantyline tan skin under a bush of hair followed by her folds coming to a head.

“That’s the clit, that’s very important.” She took his fingers and pulled back the hood. “Touch there” When Santi complied, Candy sank back down on her bed with a hum.

Santi felt a swell of pride at giving her pleasure. “Is that good?”

“Very good, pretty boy. Lot of nerves right there.”

He continued touching below, feeling the way her skin moved to his touch and how his fingers slid across the slick, soft skin below… She looked delicious.

“Can I taste you?”

*

“Where do we even start with something like this?” Santi groaned, flopping his head back.

Javi couldn't help but roll his eyes at that. “Don’t be such a child, Garcia. You take this shit one step at a time, just like anything else. Let’s start with what we know.”

The handsome younger man sighed. “Fine.” He pulled out the casefiles and Javi noticed how much calmer he’d seemed, less high strung… still high strung but that was just Santiago, Javi came to realize. “Gabriel Martin Lorea, coke dealer, devout catholic and family man… none of which stops him from hiring hookers.”

Javi chuckles. “Few things do.”

“Well, marriage should, especially when you have children.” Santi glared at him. 

His naivete, something Javi had been dreading with a younger partner, ended up endearing Santi to him. “Right, right of course.” He smiled and shook his head before lighting up a cigarette.

“Do you really have to do that indoors?”

“So sue me. I’m the one smoking, it’s not like it can hurt you.”

“I don’t know, I heard of a study that secondhand smoke can-”

Javi blew a puff of smoke in Santi’s face. “That’s just anti-smoking propaganda pushed by doctors to sell more nicotine patches.”

*

Santi had dived right in. Once he had permission to taste, he very tentatively licked a strip up her folds and to the clit… and was suddenly a starved man, insatiable, desperate to devour her and drown in her juices.. She liked when he touched her clit so he was sure to latch his mouth over the hood. As he sucked, Candy instructed him to finger her and he was happy to oblige. This, he could handle at least.

“Good boy…” Candy cooed at him. “Such a good boy for me, so obedient.”

“Wanna be good.” He mumbled into your core as he lapped at her, hips rutting against the bed. “Wanna do good.”

When her fingers found his hair, tangling up in his curls and tugging just a bit, he couldn’t help but whine into her, toes curling in his socks.

“You’re doing so good, baby boy, so good, but I’m gonna need you to stop.”

Stop? He didn’t wanna stop. Santi wanted to die here with her… Was it time? How much time did he pay for- ait, he hadn’t even paid her yet. What was her going rate? He didn’t fucking care right now, right now he’d pay her his life savings, his military pension, his first born, whatever she wanted if he could cum. 

“Whyyyyy?!” He simply went back to eating her out, taking every moment he had.

“Because,” Candy pulled at his curls, forcing him to look up and crawl back up her golden body. “Because you are about to cum, and I still wanna ride you.”

He could feel his eyes go wide at that. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what that meant… but for someone who had only ever done missionary, the whole concept seemed so… dirty. Santi chuckled nervously, tucking his head into the crook of her neck. “I’ll be honest, Candy, I’m not sure how much longer I’m gonna last as it is.”

He felt her chuckle. “Let’s slow down for a moment, then. I want you to undress.”

His breath hitched, but he made the move to undo his pants until she stopped him.

“Uh-uh, Diego. Stand up. Let me watch you undress.”

Undress like… standing? By himself? All out there and naked? “Um… can’t I do it here?”

“You can.” She confirmed with a kind smile. “But I’d really like to watch you strip for me.”

How could he resist that? Tentative, slow and careful, Santi stood up and Candy sat on the edge of the bed, bottoms off but still clothed top. “Are you gonna take that off?” It was half a joke, half a genuine question.

Candy nodded. “I will, just trust me.”

And he did, with everything in him.

So he took off his shirt.

*

“Okay. Catholic. Do we know what church he goes to?”

Javi raised an eyebrow? “You think a drug lord is going to daily mass?”

“No, but if he’s devout I assume he’s got a family that goes. Wife and children maybe, but definitely a mother. I don’t know one woman over 50 who doesn’t belong to a perish, especially a hispaña woman.”

“You find a lot of company con mujeres mayor, amigo?”

“Shut up. I say we start there. If we can find out about his family's church, we can probably find out a little more.”

Apprehensive as always, Javi crossed his legs, doubtful. “I don’t know, what can we possibly find out?”

Santi shrugged. “Not sure, but churches have a lot of records when it comes to members and if he has a family that is active we might find out something useful.”

“Is this really the best use of our time?”

Javi raised a good point, this might be a dead end, and they would have wasted all that time. “Just give me a picture of all known families and I’ll keep an eye out.”

Now that caught Javi’s attention, cocking an eyebrow at him. “You go to church, Garcia?”

A faint blush crept up Santi’s neck. His mother was very religious, that religion instilled into him and his sister. His sister couldn’t care less anymore, but then again she had never cared much about their mother’s harsh opinions and strict standards… Santi did. And so, even now with her passing, Santi attended mass often. Not a part of a regular perish, he just attended where he could and when his schedule allowed. The old women there did love him, but Santi knew Javi would never let that go. “Tengo muchas tías y primos en la zona. Si no muestro mi cara en la iglesia a veces, se lo dirán a mi madre y nunca escucharé el final.”

Javi didn’t need to know his mom was dead.

*

Santi nervously slides down his trousers and underwear, revealing the last bit of himself to Candy. Except for his tube socks. He wasn't sure what to do about those.

“Can I… move now?” He asked, a tremble in his soft voice.

She cocked her head to the side. “Does it make you nervous? To be seen like this.”

“To be seen like what?”

Candy stood up. “Naked, vulnerable, in full lighting…” She walked over towards him and placed her hands on her chest. “To let someone be able to see every part, every dip…” She felt over the ripples of his stomach muscles. “Every.” Lower. “Single.” Lower. “Inch.” Grabbing onto his hardened cock and began stroking it.

Santi let out a shuttered gasp at the touch of her hand. With her other one she lifted it to his mouth. “Lick, pretty boy.”

He was happy to oblige, not needing to know why. He didn’t need to ask questions with her, he could simply shut off his mind and let Candy guide him… mother knows best. Santi lapped at her palm, keening into it as the wetness smeared on his face.

“Such a good puppy”

The whine that emitted from him was out of him control; he liked the praise, he liked the nickname. He liked it a lot. He had been taught his whole life that sex was for procreation, a dirty thing to be done in shame and in quiet but here she was, proudly jerking him off with the now-wet hand… His mom would have said she was consumed by lust, that the devil had taken her, but Santo saw nothing but kindness in her eyes. Yes, he was paying her, he was well aware of that fact but she did genuinely seem to want to help him, to let him explore, to allow him to care for this basic human instinct… Was this dirty? Was this wrong? He wasn’t sure he cared anymore.

“Doing so good baby boy, are you close?”

He was seconds away from coming. “S-so close.” He had his head thrown back, letting her take the lead on his pleasure.

With that, she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, stifling his impending orgasm.

“Mierde!” Santiago grunted, body jolting a bit in the physical frustration.

“Relaje, guapo. Trust me, okay? Can you do that?”

He groaned, but complied. Santi trusted her with everything. Right now, he’d follow her into the dark.

*

“Alright, so Pope Santiago will case the churches in his free time. Where does that leave us during the time we actually get paid for?” Javi thought the nickname was fitting for the apparently religious boy.

“I think we need to learn more about his free time.” Javi put out his cigarette. “How about we talk to some girls, see if they know anything?”

Santi narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Girls?”

“Hookers, Pope, hookers.”

“Oh.” 

Javi noticed how he suddenly became so nervous. The boy needed to get laid. The new information of Santi being at least semi-religious was a whole new insight on his psyche. He already seemed to be a bit of a mama’s boy, a goody-two-shoes with a shiny military career and a good heart, but this was a little different. Javier’s family was catholic, as most families were. He had been baptized, first communion, confirmed, the whole jazz but as soon as he’d got annoying enough, his mom stopped bushing the issue. Santi, however, was still practicing.

“I’ll handle that part, Garcia. Don’t worry, I won't drag the Pope into a whore house.”

Javi had no doubt Santi could hold his own in most scenarios. Hell, he’d seen it. In line of fire, interviews, everything Santi could handle. But take him into a room full of prostitutes? Well, they’d eat him alive.

*

“Are you ready for me, pretty boy?” You had him right where you wanted him, right where you liked pretty boys like him that you got to corrupt in moments like this… Santiago was special though, you could tell. He was innocent, but he was far from the most innocent. You’d taken plenty of virginities before, so many you’d lost track of it all, but the way Santiago looked at you right now as he was sat up against the padded headboard of your bed slowly stroking him as your legs straddled his. Santiago looked at you with reverence, adoration, like he was fully submitted below you… as if you had the power, even though it was in his hands as the customer. Yeah, he was a special one. 

 A good, young DEA agent, straightline former military, special Ops and he came to you to show him how to pleasure a woman; not just to have sex, not just to get off, but to learn how to heighten the pleasure of all parties… A church going boy too. 

“Do I need to beg? Because I’ll fucking beg.” His hands were gripped at the sheets, lightning at the knuckles.

“Oh sweet boy, I won’t make you beg, I’m just checking in.” You sit up, rubbing the tip of his cock along your folds. Pulling down the foreskin, you begin to sink down on him, watching his eyes widen as your warmth enveloped him. He filled you right up. Every. Single. Inch.

“Breath baby, breath.” You urge him as you see his lips pressed tight together. 

He did as he was told, releasing a breath. 

“Good job. Now keep breathing, I’m going to finish undressing.” His cock was stuffed into you, and your bottom remained still as your top moved, stipping off your shirt and bra in one. 

It was merely a whisper. “Beautiful…” His eyes were nearly glazed over in lust when you began your work.

Up, down, up, down… you moved on him with your hands on his chest for balance… he seemed almost in shock as he looked in your eyes, only staying momentarily to look at your breasts before quickly looking back at your face as if it was impolite.

“It’s okay to look, Diego. You won’t offend me. You can find me sexy, do you think I’m sexy, Diego?”

“So pretty…” It was gasped out and you could tell he was almost there again.

You began to bounce on him with more vigor and the “You can touch me too”

“I’m… I’m a little scared too…”

Running your fingers through his curls, you ruffle it, enjoying the look of the pristine young man coming undone for you. You take the initiative for him. Hand in hand, you guide him to your breasts, encouraging Santiago to grope and squeeze as he liked and you reveal in the feeling of feeling of his excited pawing. He was enraptured in you, you and him were the only thing that matter right now, and you knew it. You stretched around him,  and you knew it had to be one hell of sight.

“Watch” Pulling him by his curls you guide him to look down where you and him connected, letting him watch the watch your cunt moved to accommodate him, making room to be filled over and over again. “See how my body let’s you in? I was made for you, pretty boy. I was made to take you inside me.”

The thick stretch was bringing you closer, and you knew he was only holding on by a thread himself, so you began to touch yourself. “Focus on that feeling, Diego. The feeling of us together. Can you feel it? I sure can.”

“I- I can, yes.” He was panting now, his bare tanned chest heaving with every bounce of you tits in his hands. 

“Yes what?” But he looked up at you in confusion, a desperation on his face to be good, do good, do this all right. “Yes ma’am”

“Yes ma- ma’ammmm�� With that, Santiago’s hits thrust upward into you, his eyes drilled shut and mouth tightly closed in his attempt to muffle his own release.

You did no such thing. As he filled you up, you spilled over yourself and felt the gushing release of your cunt soaking his cock, you yelled out for him, letting him know how good he made you feel. Relaxing onto his chest, Santiago wraps his arms around you like an affection-starved child, and you get a little hint into what you think this was all about.

He needed praise. He needed fondness. He needed skin to skin contact like nothing else right now. He needed to be a good person and do it all right and know he was doing it right. 

Santiago needed to be loved.

*****************

IM BACK

Sorry i know it was a wait lmfao. I posted like 3 chapters of the wrong way sequel before this one lolololol OOPS

But i promise I got a fun plan for this fic! I hope you all enjoy.

Remember, reblogs are the only real way to spread work! Please consider relogging to support this writing.

Comments mean the world to me!

Asks are always open to discuss this fic or my others, but also for non fandom too! Talk to me about anything you're excited about! I wanna get to know you all.

Also, as a note im trying my best for historic acuracy but I know narcos goes from like 70's onward but this stays in the 70's. Pretend Pablo Escabar isn't an issue anymore lmfao.

@runa-falls @lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings @whatthefishh @itspdameronthings @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolbool @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @axshadows @englandsgray @starsthatwatch @laiisleitte @fairlyang @alwaysmicado @theywhowriteandknowthings @casa-boiardi @lostfleurs @ninebluehearts @puglover12