#divine lorraine

[perfettamentechic]

5 aprile … ricordiamo …

5 aprile … ricordiamo … #semprevivineiricordi #nomidaricordare #personaggiimportanti #perfettamentechic

2022: Jimmy Wang Yu, Jimmy Wang Zhengquan, meglio conosciuto come Wang Yu, attore, regista e produttore cinematografico cinese naturalizzato taiwanese, talvolta accreditato anche con il nome di Wong Yu-lung. Wang sposò l’attrice Jeanette Lin, dopo una travagliata relazione con la regista Qin Jian, poi si sposò con Wang Kaizhen. (n. 1943) 2022: Nehemiah Persoff, attore e pittore israeliano…

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼: 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸

Stepdad!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: The year is 1979 and it's the summer after graduation. You want to make the most of the vacation, but going to shady dance bars is a lot harder now that your new stepfather works for the DEA.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, cops and raids, stepdad trope and all that comes with, minor DUBCON, big juicy age gap [reader is 18/19 when she meets Javi, Javi is in his mid 40s], reader wears a dress, petnames, mommy issues ™ , alcohol consumption, mean!brat tamer!dom!Javi then soft!Javi, brat!reader, rough sex, “virginity” loss & minor mention of blood, sex in the woods on the hood of Javi’s car, mentions of F masturbation, some reader x oc, Javi gives reader her first orgasm, major size kink [Javi is bigger than the reader, can rough house with her], degradation, dumbification, reader is insanely horny, satanic levels of dirty talk, finger sucking, choking, spanking [with a belt and hand] , a few slaps [as always], fingering, unprotected P in V [be better!!], creampie. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I am impossibly excited for this stepdad trilogy. This is part 1/3 so it’s only 1/3 the fun and debauchery. Few Easter eggs thrown in.. see if you can spot em 🤭.This is set up after the events of season 2 and before the events of season 3, in a year where Javi is taking a break before Cali, but feel free to imagine otherwise. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

​​Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

Once I had a love and it was divine

Soon found out I was losing my mind

It seemed like the real thing, but I was so blind

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

You stood at the entrance, one foot tapping restlessly on the wooden floorboards. In an effort to keep your head down you fiddled aimlessly with the clasp on your watch, knowing full well you weren’t going to be paying attention to anything but the time that flashed on its face. An older, blonde woman came stomping onto the patio, swinging the wooden door behind you so hard on her way the rattle it produced when it slammed shut knocked the flimsy “BAR” sign right off. You jumped, then took another step away from the establishment.  

You could almost feel the bass of the engine thrumming in your chest as it got closer. The tires crunched against the gravel as it neared. You still couldn’t see it. You hoped it was her. 

It wasn’t long before a red convertible was nearing, the number plate sending a shaky, relieved sigh hurtling past your lips. Agitated, drunk and anxiety ridden, you ran towards and then jumped into Lorrain’s car– hoping and praying the ride would give you a beat to sober up. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d had to sneak back into your room well past midnight. It was so much of a habit you could sell a course on how to accomplish it with the utmost skill and precision. What was rare, however, was having to perform the task while shaken up so severely. The side of your small, once welcoming home seemed more alien than ever, your bedroom looking far higher off the ground than you remembered. 

Nevertheless, a few missteps and about 10 minutes later you stumbled through your open window, quickly stripping to your underwear and shoving your dirty, alcohol laced clothes under your bed. You cursed your “parents” at the fact that you still needed to do this shit like a fucking highschooler. 

The sound of feet padding towards your bedroom door startled you, and you jumped to pull on your sleep shorts before what you knew was your stepdad coming up the stairs. 

You hoped and prayed he hadn't caught wind of the way you screamed when your foot missed the ledge below your window, or worse, that his partner hadn’t given him a call to inform him of the familiar face he saw at the shack that night. 

No matter how many times you liked to imagine he would bend you over his knee and discipline you, how many times you imagined it was him with his hand under your skirt or head between your legs as some clumsy 20 year old rutted against your thigh, you knew full well if Javier actually ever caught your antics, the consequences were going to be a whole lot less ideal than that. 

As you jumped under the covers you recalled the way Agent Steve Murphy had cocked his head at you back at the bar. The way your stepfather’s partner had squinted his eyes at you in confusion, doing a double take at your skimpy outfit, short dress and boots, the way the men at the bar had their hands all over you. 

You prayed it wasn’t too late before you turned your head away, that it wasn’t too late before you swiftly moved out of that bar, before he could be sure it was you he was seeing. 

Because if he was, there would be absolute hell to pay. 

—

One summer, when you were maybe eight or nine, you developed an absurd obsession with riding your bike up the slope that led away from your small town. Eventually, the uphill roads veered away, twisting and turning into a thousand different rocky paths that converged at one point only a few hundred metres from the large sign that welcomed people into the town. The singular, welcoming road led straight into the woods. Back then, it seemed endless, providing a warm, hospitable buffer for the hills that loomed over the town with a somewhat protective intimidation. Like the woods were watching over your every move. 

Everyday, for three months, you’d bust out your front door at 18:00 on the dot and make the journey uphill. Exhaustively pushing your bike past that sign and into what was nature's much welcome respite from your mothers neglectful cruelty. You collected rocks by the stream that ran through those woods, leaves and flowers to keep in your room. It was like they were magic. Like they wanted to get to know you, be your friend. The trees formed a canopy over you, like they wanted to shield you from the winds and the setting sun, and most importantly from the town below. 

One day you remember hearing some rustling coming from up the stream. You didn't think much of it, must have been a deer or something of the sort. You continued foraging for little flowers and rocks, that was until you came across something that didn't really belong. A piece of white lace. It looked new, but dirty, there was cotton under half of it. It seemed like it was part of a dress. Someone must have lost it up there. You didn't investigate. Things were calm and quiet again as usual, but it wasn't long before the rustling from upstream got louder, just slightly, and you heard the clatter of a metal rod to the ground, followed by a heavier, louder thud. 

You turned on your heel and away from the stream, it took you four minutes to find the welcome sign to your town again. By 19:00 you were home. 

You never went back to the woods again. That August your mother informed you you were going to school in the city. 

— 

To say you were unhappy to come home from boarding school to the news your mother was marrying a cop would be an understatement, and while you tried not to be too judgy and give him a chance, to say you were surprised when he turned out to be a complete authoritarian would be an even bigger understatement. 

You knew of Agent Peña, he was somewhat of a local celebrity. You’d seen him on your summers home since you were sixteen- picking up beers at the convenience store, smoking cigarettes outside the petrol station. You and your friends would often drool over him, wait for him to show up at a neighbourhood barbeque, or catch him taking a walk around the block. 

Eventually, you grew up, and outgrew your little hallway crush on the, now, mostly tiresome Agent Peña. Because soon you weren't sixteen. And his holier than thou, saviour complex, and affinity for order only made you roll your eyes. In fact he was quite annoying. He made little effort to contribute to the community, still riding his high from his days in Colombia. 

You wondered why those people revered him like he was taking bullets for your town. 

You were absolutely flabbergasted when you found out your mother was marrying him. At first, a little bit jealous for the teenager who once fawned over him, but quickly more concerned for the fact that he was actually someone who you’d have to interact with, and not just a piece of eye candy you could appreciate out and about. 

Hell, he was becoming family, and your stepfather no less. It was torturous. You did not need another person to worry about in your home. 

“So.. What’re you studying?” He crossed his left leg over the right, and asked you. His hand reached out to receive the glass of whiskey your mother poured him. He hadn’t been in your house for ten minutes and you already couldn’t stand his guts. Besides the fact that he was a cop, he had this air about him… what exactly, you weren’t quite sure. A superficial, macho exterior that felt like a bigger slap in the face than the fact that he was sitting on the nice, upholstered, expensive, armchair your father had paid for. 

Unsurprisingly, Agent Peña often indulged you in riveting conversation about the dangers of indulging in alcohol and drugs at a young age as he puffed on his cigarette, and lectured you, in what you knew as truly your mothers fashion, about how young people these days didn't know a thing, and that they must always respect and follow the lead of their elders. 

Much like mother dear, he paid little attention to you other than to reprimand you for whatever it was you weren’t doing correctly; for when you didn’t do the dishes on time, or were staying out too late, as if it was any of his business to even begin with. He seemed to really enjoy the protective dad role. It fit in well with the rest of his pathetic persona. 

No wonder they got along.

You remember almost gagging when he boasted about the college you were set to attend, one arm slung across your shoulder, at the party your aunt threw for your graduation. Like he had absolutely anything to do with it. You excused yourself partly to avoid the embarrassment and partly to roll your eyes. A small part of you enjoyed his proud boasting, but you were not ready to unpack that yet. 

In the time the couple weren’t circle jerking about their views, you were lucky enough to be the recipient of snide comments that were so obviously meant for your late father. To his credit Javier Peña didn’t involve himself in the conversation. You couldn’t say the same for a lot of your mother’s previous lovers. 

Since you were ten years old you had been making your own decisions, doing what you wanted and living on your terms. To return to your home for the summer after graduation, now 18, and have to abide by someone else’s meaningless regulations, was a rather harsh slap in the face. Not to mention this someone had been in your life all of two months, and really enjoyed acting like he knew anything about you, or your family. 

Sometimes, when you’d climb down the stairs of that quaint suburban home, the home that once belonged to your family, in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water or a snack, you’d see him sitting out on the porch, hunched over a whole bunch of shit you couldn’t bother caring about, with his ashtray dangerously close to all that flammable paper. 

His shirt stretched deliciously over his back, his hand reaching out to ash his cigarette every once in a while. You were glad he was infuriating, had he not been such a prick it might have revived the little bit of a crush you had on him. 

Sometimes you felt a little bit bad for rolling your eyes at him, or shutting down his attempts to initiate group plans. If you were being honest you were surprised when he didn’t blow up at you for talking back or being rude– that was when your mother wasn’t around. When she was, he didn’t have to. She would jump at any chance to start a fight. You were even more surprised when Javier tried to diffuse the situation. 

You figured soon enough that perhaps the Javier Peña you met a few months prior was putting quite the show on for his overbearing, obnoxious lover. Of course, you were sure he hardly saw her that way. He was perhaps a lot smarter than you gave him credit for. 

Javier often chided your mother when you spoke back to her, rather unexpectedly calling out her bad parenting and the behaviour she “modelled” for you when you were a child. You overheard them argue after a big blowout, from your room. It upset you that he was even getting involved. He tried to talk to you about it later, but that was the last thing you wanted to do. 

Obviously, you knew your hatred of them both had something to do with your psychologically deprived childhood, but it baffled you how neither of them, especially wannabe father of the year Javier Peña, didn’t realised your isolated anger would perhaps be diminished if they stopped trying to meddle in your life, the one neither of them seemed to care about unless something about it upset them. 

If he really cared about your wellbeing he’d take his wife and get the fuck out of your life. You were an adult, one that wasn’t going to listen to anyone, especially not the mother who packed you away all those years ago, and her hypocritical, infuriating husband. 

Thats why, despite having almost gotten caught and having your ass handed to you less than forty eight hours prior, you were back at the shack, drink in hand, stupidly forgetting exactly what had you scrambling to get out there in the first place. 

Who could have even blamed you? Your mother had been especially annoying that particular morning, and Javier and his buddies had colonised the house for a barbeque in the afternoon. In what even you recognised as somewhat juvenile rebelion, you decided the universe owed you some fun after having to endure their patronising, senseless chit chat all day. 

It wasn’t even that late, but you were already feeling it, the effects of the countless drinks you had downed over the course of the few hours you had been dancing at the bar. Nothing unusual in that, men often offered to buy you drinks, handsome ones at that, and you didn’t have the money to live extravagantly. Besides, if you weren’t going to use your charm what was it even there for? 

Was it Timmy? Tommy? You couldn't even recall his name by the time he was tossing you onto the counter in the bar’s bathroom. To be honest you couldn’t really figure out much of your surroundings, letting yourself get lost in the delicate, dizzy, tipsy haze as his hands slipped under your skirt to squeeze at your thighs. Your regular drunk hookup, or rather someone you disappointingly rolled around with till he finished and left you to roll your hips against your pillow wishing your hands were your Stepfather’s. 

His lips brushed your neck, sloppily planting kisses up and down your skin, nipping at your collar bones as he pushed himself between your legs. You closed your eyes and imagined he was Javier. The thought made you moan and you reached for his collar to pull him closer. He didn't smell like Javi, wasn't as big, his chest wasn’t as firm, his arms didn't envelop you like Javi’s did. 

You felt him swell against you, and you pushed against him, mind once again drifting to Javier standing at the grill in your backyard. His white linen shirt unbuttoned far too low, rolled up sleeves drawing your eyes to his forearms. He’d had a hand on his hip, a sliver of skin right above the band of his shorts just barely visible. 

He smiled at you, and you had worried he’d caught you staring. You revelled in the image. You recalled how he leaned against the edge of the pool with the afternoon sun beating down on his golden skin. You imagined his hands moving under your bra to squeeze your breast. 

You were rather embarrassingly enjoying the little montage of your stepdad that was playing in your head. You had almost forgotten it was tommy, or timmy rolling his hips against yours. If a loud, wall rattling thud hadn’t interrupted you, you would've enjoyed your little delusion even longer. 

To say you were startled was an understatement, you practically leaped right off the counter. Unable to really gather your bearings in time, you barely registered timmy, or tommy, scrambling to fix his shirt, you yourself rushing to cover up and fix the top of your dress. 

From the corner of your eye you caught a hand grab him by the shoulder and shove him towards the door, dragging him out of the bathroom and towards a building commotion outside. You heard people yelling, but couldn’t really make out what was going on. 

When you looked up and found Javier looking dead at you, instead of your little fling, you damn near collapsed. He looked like he was on the verge of a heart attack. In a second he was shutting the door behind him, and flicking the lock. You would’ve ran, but its not like you could go anywhere, besides, hed gotten a good look at your face gawking at him, like a fucking moron. 

It was over. 

“You’re fucking kidding me.” you hopped off the counter and tumbled into his chest.  He took you by the arm and dragged you right to the back of the bathroom, you struggled to remain on your feet but he didn’t really care. Much of your dizziness was thanks to your new found anxiety and had little to do with the vodka you’d been downing all night. This was definitely not an ideal situation. His grip on your arm tightened, and made you wince. You liked the sting, not so much the rest of the whole ordeal. “This where you’ve been fuckin’ going?” he seethed, coming close enough that your noses almost touched, he shook you lightly by the arm as he spoke. 

You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he pulled you closer. “None of your fucking business.” Sure, you weren’t on your best behaviour, but did he really think he could boss you around? 

“Sure as hell’s my fucking business.” he took a look behind him, then turned back to you and leaned closer. “‘DEA agent’s step daughter dancing at illegal drug club’ sure gonna make a sweet headline.” His fingers dug into your flesh. Only then did it hit you why exactly he was in your dingy shack to begin with. You heard Timmy arguing with someone outside. You felt your palms become impossibly clammier. 

“Just fucking turn me in then, asshole.” you got closer, and you were sure he could smell the vodka off your breath. You wished that sounded as courageous and bold out loud as it did in your head. His eyes jumped to your lips, and he rolled them, huffing in frustration. You felt your own eyes burn, and your vision became blurry. You didn't want to cry in front of that bastard. You looked away. 

“To whom? Myself” his thumb smoothed over your skin, and his grip lightened. “Not gonna arrest you, fuckin’ idiot.” he rolled his eyes, then dropped your arm to put his hands on his hips. He looked down and sighed, massaging his temple and then glancing behind him again. 

“Riskin it all for that fuckin’ looser?” He let out a half hearted laugh, looking somehow both disappointed and smug. You wanted to punch him in the face. You would have, if he didnt happen to be the only thing between you and one dozen other narcs outside. 

He glanced at the ground for a second, then back at you and fixed the strap of your top that had slipped down your shoulder. “Get in the car.” he pointed behind you, and you looked in the direction to see a small, open window. 

“Know you're good at climbing outta windows.” you felt your cheeks heat so much they burned. Your heart hadn’t really recovered from his big, surprise entry yet. You couldn't stand to look at his frustrated, let down face. 

Javi cocked his head and raised his brows, whispering a strained “go”. You had no choice, you turned away from him and towards the window. 

—

“Where are we going?”

He didn't look away from the road ahead. Hand gripping the steering wheel with a renewed annoyance. “Better stop asking questions before s’ too late brat.” You opened your mouth to speak, but quickly shut it right back up again. You decided it was probably a lot smarter to just shut up and not bother him any longer– regardless of the thousand questions and worries you had swimming in your head. 

If you were lucky, he was going to drive the both of you right off a cliff, because if your mother caught any wind of what you had been doing, your plans for going to college, and living out of your house would fly right out the window. Not to mention the torture that would insue when she demanded to know your whereabouts all day everyday for the rest of the foreseeable future. 

“Don't want ya hangin’ round the countryside, in these barns, nothing good happens in there.” he looked over you momentarily, 

“Oh what? Are the cows joining in on the drug trade?” 

“Newspaper boys, going missin’. Found him in the lake, about two miles from here.” you pressed your lips together. 

The car ride thus passed in a painful, tense silence. Javier was clearly unhappy with the whole situation, but had decided not to immediately blow up in your face? Everything about that unsettled you. He was so shocked he seemed to be in denial. You'd much prefer if he just yelled at you and got it over with. 

What else was there to do? Surely he wasn’t going to turn you over to the cops, he had his chance to do that already. However Javier never missed a chance to reprimand you, maybe he wanted to get a few words in before ruining your future. 

You wouldn’t put it past him anyway. 

The empty streets gave way to a narrow, winding road that cut through the woods. The familiar landscape of your small town faded away, replaced by shadowy silhouettes of trees that loomed closer and closer to the edge of the road. The headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating the dense foliage– closing in around you. The road twisted and turned, each bend bringing you deeper into the night, and further away from any civilisation. 

Beginning to zone out, you kept your eyes ahead, now unable to recognise left from right, and importantly, exactly how far out from town you had come.  It wasn’t long before the “farwell, drive safe” sign that stood at the edge of the woods was swiftly moving past your right shoulder. A pit was quick to form in your stomach, the lowered window by Javi’s side let the cool breeze in. It wrapped around you and made you shiver. The smell of the woods soon overcame you. 

Eventually,the car came to a stop in a small clearing. You watched Javi, but he paid no attention to you. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional creak of branches swaying in the wind. In the distance, an owl hooted, its call echoed through the trees. You felt like a child about to be reprimanded after getting in trouble at school. You could hear the ticking of the cooling engine, each sound amplified in the stillness of the night. The dark woods pressed in on you. 

After what felt like an eternity, he opened his door, stepping out and gesturing for you to do the same with his head. Still absolutely clueless about what exactly he was doing, you decided just to follow along. He wasn’t going to actually kill you or anything. Probably just wanted to scare you. He had always thought he was a lot more scary than he actually was. At least that's what your brain was telling you. Your heart had other plans. 

You watched from inside as Javi began to cross in front of you, for a good three seconds he stood directly ahead of you, facing you in the beams of the headlights. The sight made you shiver. He took a step out of the light. Taking a long deep breath to psych yourself up, after a short moment you opened your door. Javi placed his arm on the top of said door, leaning against it to watch you get out. 

You almost tripped, but Javi caught you by the arm and manhandled you to the front of his truck. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the light, and when he turned you to face the hood it blinded you. 

The scrape of your shoes against the damp soil, the crunch of the leaves– it was pretty much all you could really register. The moon shone bright, shining through the trees, but your eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness. “These woods are fucking haunted.” A bug landed on the side of your face and you jumped, shaking your head and swatting it away. Javier laughed behind you and you rolled your eyes. “Ghosts the least of your worries right now, bunny .” 

“Fuckin gross.” He shook you by the arm, his voice now a tad bit more annoyed than it was a little earlier. “Oh really?” He pushed you against the hood of his car, your back now facing it. You couldn’t see his eyes, any part of his face at all, you could barely see anything. You wondered how he moved so confidently in the dark. He must have practice. 

“I ain’t sneakin’ out to be a slut every night.” His hands moved to grab your waist and your heart jumped. You swallowed, feeling more defiant yet sceptical by the second. “Sorry you’re not getting any, but it's not my fault, dirty old man.” Before you could even gauge his reaction your head was snapping to the side, a sharp burn spreading across your cheek as Javier’s hand made contact with your skin. 

“I'm not getting any?” he laughed, then took your face between his fingers and squeezed your cheeks together. You winced, and your vision got blurry. You felt your panties dampen embarrassingly. “I ain't the one lettin’ stupid boys rub up on me, bunny.” He shook your face gently, voice so seething and cruel you whimpered, somehow more desperate for him than you were before. 

“Desperate little slut.” He grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you around, and promptly told you to “shut that whore mouth” when you screamed that he could fuck right off. His fingers left tender spots all over your arms and waist, and you winced when he manhandled you into bending over the hood of his car. 

He placed a hand on your back to press you down, the other held your waist in a death grip and you felt him press up against your ass. Your dress had ridden up, and surely left little to the imagination. The denim of his jeans rubbed against your upper thighs, and the tips of your shoes barely scraped the ground with how far up the hood of the car he had thrown you. You whimpered and he shushed you with a hand squeezing around your throat from behind. 

You knew you had to be unjustifiably wet by this point. You felt yourself throb when Javi put his hands under your dress and grabbed the waistband of your panties. He pressed his hips into yours and you felt his bulge through the fabric. 

The jingle of his belt sent a shiver down your spine, every hair on the back of your neck standing up at attention. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, still undecided about how exactly you felt about this entirely new development. 

Your heart jumped when he ran the leather across your skin, slowly, perhaps to catch you off guard when he finally struck you with it. You lurched forward, the pain so sharp a tear was quick to roll down your cheek. He struck you again, holding you down with his other hand. The sound of each slash, and your whines that followed echoed in the distance. 

“Think you’re fuckin cute, don’t you.” It was horribly embarrassing to be bent over the hood of his car, both palms on holding you up as best they could whilst he landed spank after spank on your bare ass. “Like bein a wild child?” Your scream echoed in the woods when his belt made sharp contact with your flesh. Your knees buckled but Javier's hand on your waist held you up before it was retreating to land another slap on your ass. Tears were dampening the neckline of your dress already, rolling down your neck and rendering you a bigger mess with every sharp spank of his belt. 

“Yeah? You get off on all those men touchin’ ya? Like being passed around like a cheap whore?” He gripped your hips so tight you didn’t even bother trying to wiggle out of his hold. “Should take ya to the office sometime, hand ya off to Steve, let him have some fun with you.”

You shook your head at that, there was only one man in the DEA offices you wanted, and unfortunately it wasn’t anybody that could actually be with. You clenched your thighs. 

“Knew you were a fuckin’ nasty little girl.” He wedged his hand between them, pushing them apart and slightly spreading your thighs. His fingers rubbed over your clothed cunt, your panties now damp from all that had ensued. You shivered, then pushed back against his digits. 

His fingers found your clit and you moaned. “Did ya cum?” he asked, referring to your little escapade at the bar. Suddenly, you were a whole lot less bold than you were a few moments ago, it wasn’t ideal to admit what you were going to, and it seemed almost impossible without sounding rather pathetic. 

He stopped moving his fingers and pinched the inside of your thigh. “Answer me.” You whispered a “no” bracing yourself for whatever embarrassing comment Javier was going to throw back at you in response. “Huh.. No one fucked this tight little snatch before? Savin’ yourself for me?” he ruminated on the thought, sounding far more pleased than you would have desired. He wasn’t exactly right, but he definitely wasn’t wrong either. 

When you remained quiet he leant beside your ear, lips ghosting the skin on your neck. “Hmm, that right? “Wish it was me instead of that stupid boy?” You groaned at his smug voice, then when his fingers slid under your panties and between your dripping folds. “Wished his finger’s were mine tonight, didnt you?” He cursed under his breath at how wet you were. “How many times d’you cum dreamin’ bout your stepdaddy fuckin your tight lil pussy…” 

“Haven’t” You pressed your face against the metal of his car, cheeks on fire at your admission. He remained silent behind you for a beat, then gently lifted you to press your back to his chest with a hand around your throat. He pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss against your neck, and the hand that was between your legs slid under your dress to plam your tit through your bra. “Ever?” 

You gasped as he pulled it down, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You shook your head and pressed back against his hard cock. The buckle of his belt dug into your skin and you could almost feel the sting against your ass once again. He pulled you impossibly closer to him, hand returning between your legs. 

He rubbed your clit in slow circles and then pushed two fingers into your entrance. “Full of surprises, aren't ya?” you gasped at the stretch, his fingers were surely far bigger than your own, or any others that had been anywhere near your pussy.  “don't blame ya’ bunny , nothing like the real thing, huh?” 

You bit your lip harder to keep from moaning, already far closer to finishing than you had ever been before, especially when he stroked your walls, mercifully scissoring you open in an uncharacteristic show of thoughtfulness. 

“So fuckin’ wet, bunny .” he curled his digits, reaching that sweet spot inside you as he thumbed your clit. You pushed back against him, feeling yourself continue to gush around his hand. “Gonna slide right in at this rate.” 

He yanked your panties down with so much force you heard a few stitches rip in the silence. Javier groaned, and you leaned back against him when his hand moved away from your pussy to slide his hard cock between your thighs, his hips flush against yours. He squeezed your tit in his palm as he pulled back a little, sliding against your swollen cunt again. 

You felt your arousal smear against your thighs. He muttered a strained “Can’t wait much longer, bunny” . You, yourself thought you might have gone crazy if he waited longer. He pulled his hips back again, notching the head at your entrance and pushing in in a single, slow thrust. 

You winced and then moaned, body unable to adjust to the sheer size of him so quickly, yet still hungry for more. You hadn’t felt quite so full ever before, you could feel his cock deep inside you. Your hand covered his on your chest and you mewled and whimpered when he moved his hips, replicating the sharp thrust again, and then again. 

It wasn’t long before he was pushing you back down against the hood of his car to get a better grip on your hips. He twisted your wrist as you reached out for him, holding both in one large palm as he found a steady rhythm. The almost unbearable stretch slowly melted away into a delicious, burning need, and in only a few moments you were pressing back against him, pleading for him to pick up his pace. 

“You rub your pretty little cunt thinking ‘bout my cock splitting you open?” You moaned a “yes” every part of your body now hot with need as he kept fucking into your warm, wet, heat. 

“How?” When you didn't answer he landed a spank to your ass, this time with his hand, and right over the spot his belt had left its sting on not so long ago. You yelped and surged forward. His hand on your hip pulled you back. You pulled yourself up, craving the heat of his chest against your back. 

“On my- oooh” your palm landed over his, fingers wrapping around one of his larger ones as you cut yourself off with a moan “On my pillow.” The memory made you throb harder, and the hand that was holding Javiers guided it away from your hip and closer to the cut of your thigh, craving the feel of his fingers on your clit. 

He squeezed the flesh of your thigh and chuckled, hot breath fanning against your now sweaty skin. “Thought as much. My little slut. Knew I heard ya..” he took your earlobe between his teeth for a moment, nipped and then licked a stripe up your neck “tryna make yourself cum. Couldn't figure it out yourself huh?” 

You shook your head. “horny little girl, need me to do everything for ya.” You had indeed, countless times rather ashamedly. The thought that he’d possibly heard you long enough for it to be a problem, had likely fucked your mother at the thought, wishing it was you under him in her stead was a thought that would live in your head for all eternity. 

He kissed your cheek, then pushed you back down. “S’why ya keep spreading your legs for the whole world huh?” He put a palm on the middle of your back, holding you down as he continued to thrust inside you. “Chasin’ cock all day long.”

“Can’t help this whore cunt huh? So desperate to cum.” holding yourself up on your forarms you raised your head, turning back to get a look at him fucking into your desperate pussy. 

“Knew it the moment I fuckin’ saw you. Dumb slut got nothing to her name besides this sweet pussy. No one taught ya any manners, how to be a good little girl.” His thumb brushed over the cut of your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks. His index and middle fingers swiped your lips, and they instinctively parted to let him push them in. You sucked and drooled around his digits, doing little to contain your moans as he continued to fuck you from behind. The taste of your arousal sat heady on your tongue. “Always knew ya wanted it, stupid little slut.”

“Runnin that whore mouth all day like you're payin’ for the house.” his hips snapped towards yours, his cock buried deep inside you. “But it aint your house, bunny .” With the way your tits were pressing against the smooth metallic finish of his stupid pickup truck you were sure they were going to leave a mark. 

You released his fingers with a pop, and he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you around, hurriedly tossing you onto the hood of his car till your feet were also planted firmly above the bumper. Before you could even register the movement he was slipping back inside you, you felt yourself pulse around his cock. You hoped and prayed no one was remotely near, your wailes and whines loud enough to travel far into the distance. 

“Get that in your fuckin’ head” He tapped his index gently against your temple and you nodded, frantically pleading yes after yes. You felt him throb inside you, each drag of his cock building the tension in your belly. You felt your pussy squeeze around him, and you wiggled your hips closer to chase the feeling. 

Your head turned side to side, your whole body buzzing at the heat between your legs. You don't think you’d ever felt anything like it. Sure, it felt good to touch yourself, but this, the feeling of his cock inside you, against your wet walls, it was entirely different. 

The tension only built in your hips, your skin erupting in goosebumps as you hurtled closer and closer to the edge. Your palms squeezed your breasts, seeking purchase on any part of your body. 

You lay your back down completely, watching the light hit him right in the face, falling against his features to create sharp lines of contrast. You’d take a good long look at him on top of you to save for later, but he was quickly pressing his lips to yours and your eyes fluttered shut. 

The weight of his body on top of yours was enough to make you cum on your own, but the feeling of his lips was what really did it. For how rough and quick he was splitting you open, his mouth moved gently against yours, his warm tongue parting your lips and gliding into your mouth. You moaned against him and he bit your lip, sensing how close you were. 

“Wanna see that face when you cum for me.”  his palm tilted your face upwards, and while the rest of his fingers continued to squeeze around your neck his thumb slipped between your parted lips. Instinctively, you closed your mouth around him, drooling and moaning around his thumb when he hit the sweet spot inside you over and over. Your pussy clenched around his cock and you tried to whimper his name. You felt another word bubble in your throat but you closed your lips around his digit to push it away. Your eyes fluttered shut at the intensity. 

“Cum for me, lil bunny” his words made you tumble over the edge, your cunt squeezing and gushing around his cock, your back arching off the hood of his car. His fingers squeezed around your neck, holding your face in place so he could get a good look at your eyes rolling back into your head. 

It was like a blackout, your ears rang so loud and your lips loosened around his thumb, going slack as you rode out your high. You felt him throb inside you at the sight. You felt the ache deep inside you, all the pleasure bursting in a single climactic second. Your lips fell slack around his fingers, whole body twitching at the sensation. 

Your climax set him off, and it wasn't long before he was burying himself inside your hot heat. His cock pulsed against your wet walls, painting your insides with his spend. He groaned and squeezed around your neck just a little harder. You sucked his thumb gently and heard him curse under his breath. You tried to keep your fluttering eyes on his face, watching intently as the aftershocks subsided and Javier's brows knit closer with his final few thrusts. 

After a few moments he stilled inside you, taking a moment to catch his breath. He pulled his thumb from your warm mouth to brush your bottom lip, then let his own lips take their place. You felt him pull out and you winced at the burn. He put both your legs up on his shoulders and leaned between your legs. 

You watched as his head disappeared between your legs to place a kiss to your inner thigh, and pull your panties back up your hips. You reached for him and he pulled you up to his chest. “Gotta clean up a lil bit, bunny..” he fixed your dress and lifted you off the hood and into his arms. “Ain’t nothing to worry about.” You already knew your painties were ruined for good with a red stain by that point. 

You rested your forearms on his shoulders, quite liking being held in his arms. “Knew you were always to much of a fucking perv to be a good cop.” He smacked your ass again for good measure and placed you on the ground. “You aint’ too much of a slut to fuck your stepdaddy aint it?” 

He stepped aside and you watched him do up his belt again, walking towards the driver's side of the car. You looked behind you and towards the expanse of the woods. The trees rustled, and you heard, presumably, the same owl hoot from the distance. A small crackle in the foliage had you swiftly walking to the passenger side and yanking open the door. You hopped inside and slammed it behind you. 

Javier was reaching in the glove box to stash away his gun. “Please” You swallowed, looking towards him. “Please just don’t tell her. She's going to have a freak out.”

Javi glanced at you momentarily, then murmured a dismissive “yeah yeah” as he started up the engine. That wasn't good enough for you. “Please, she’ll give me hell, I can’t deal with it.” You shook your head, then shifted in your seat. He muttered another “yeah”, checking his pockets for the keys to your front door. God forbid they slipped out while he was fucking your brains out. 

You turned towards him in your seat, both hands on the centre console. “Please.” Javier grabbed the keys, hooked them to his belt loop and dropped his head in a sigh. He turned towards you, taking a moment to reach over and buckle you into your seat. 

“‘Ain’t gonna tell, so stop askin’ before I change my mind.” He knew he didn’t need to ask you to keep your mouth shut– perhaps the most humiliating part of this all. 

“Okay.. yeah..”  The headlights flashed as you began your journey back home, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. You sank back, twisting in Javi’s direction, now curled up in the seat. His eyes remained on the road ahead. “Don���t do this shit again.” 

“Just wanted some adventure.” your voice grew thick, and you yawned. “Next time ya want adventure watch a fuckin’ hitchcock film or something.” He reached out a hand to cup your cheek, engulfed it and patted it gently. 

”Ain't always gonna be there to save your ass, bunny.” 

— 

PART II

In between

What I find is pleasing and I'm feeling fine

Love is so confusing there's no peace of mind

If I fear I'm losing you. it's just no good

You teasing like you do

Eeek! Hope you enjoyed!! I’m very excited for this series, and I hope you are too! Please let me know what you think! Thank you to everyone who interacts with my work! Your comments and reblogs keep me writing 💗🐝

[chococara25]

Of Poltergeist and Sweet Treats

There is an intruder in his house. 

That, or for some odd reason, his house is currently haunted by a food poltergeist. 

Tommy pulled a face at that thought before gently closing his currently stuffed full to the brim fridge and cautiously stepped away from it. He rubbed his face tiredly (he was back from a very gruelling 48-hour shift) and to be honest, wasn’t mentally (and physically) ready to figure out what the hell was going on. 

All he wants is to grab his (most likely expired) orange juice so he can drink it before he can crawl into his bed and sleep, damnit!

He deeply sighed again and opened the fridge again and haphazardly grabs one of the loaf, eyeing distrustfully at the neatly typed label (cherry tomato, watermelon radish and rosemary focaccia bread), breathing in the delicious scent of rosemary and fresh bread and couldn’t resist biting into it.

Dear God.

Tommy couldn’t help the moan coming out of his mouth as he enjoyed the crunch of perfectly crust and the sweet and peppery taste of the cherry tomatoes and watermelon radishes baked into it. He had to make himself put down the delicious loaf of bread and pull out another wrapped package, this time a small pot pie (Quiche Lorraine; warm first!!) After following the instructions on the label and warming it using the microwave, bite into it; the delicious combination of buttery pie crust paired with the savoury egg custard, smoky bacon, smoky bacon, nutty Gruyère cheese, and shallots danced across his palate. 

After finishing the frankly divine pie, he turned to the fridge and began to catalogue its content, counting 5 different loaves of cake and bread (one banana and walnut cake, one vanilla and raspberry mascarpone loaf cake, one carrot cake loaf, one mixed nut loaf, a whole wheat sourdough loaf), 3 types of scones (a batch of sweet potato scones, half-a-dozen of savoury chorizo and manchego scones peppered with paprika, and a container of mixed berry scones), one very decadent box of chocolate fudge brownie just the way he likes it, 4 different types of soups (butternut squash soup, a savoury broccoli cheddar soup, a very filling savoury potato and leek soup and an oddly familiar-tasting chicken and mushroom soup that he simply couldn’t resist heating up and eat for his brunch) a box of red velvet cupcakes topped, what he can tell from just smelling it, cream cheese and a splash of peppermint and several portioned-for-one pans of lasagnas. 

Heck, whomever invaded his house even restocked his fridge and pantry with much needed groceries and even got him a case of that rare pale beer he liked!

Taking a pic of the well-stocked fridge, he texted Lucy and Eddie, two people of the four people who had keys to his place that could be the culprit (Melton was working the same 48 hour shift with him and most likely passed out at his place and Sal was in Philadelphia, vacationing with his in-laws). 

Tommy - Right, which one of you gremlins did this?

Biting into the decadent fudge brownie (He may or may not have shivers dancing down his spine while biting into the frankly sinful dessert), he turned to his phone when his phone vibrated, signalling the replies coming through. 

Lucy - Brave of you to assume I know how to bake. 😤 😤  Lucy - Damn, are those red velvet cupcakes? Lucy - Share them with me 🤤🤤🤤 Eddie - Dude, I’m not even in LA right now?! Eddie - Didn’t I tell you I’m moving back to El Paso?

Tommy frowned. Eddie’s moved back to Texas? But what about Ev- Buck?

Tommy - You moved? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have sent you off man!

He hesitated before typing again.

Tommy -Why did you leave Buck?  Tommy -Is he doing alright?  Tommy -Have he moved on? Tommy -If I tell him I’m sorry, will he take me back?

Deleting the texts, he opened his group chat with Evan, and Tommy began texting him. Are you alright?

Staring at the last text message, he rubbed his face and deleted that one as well, instead opting to try one of the red velvet cupcakes. 

It was delicious and yet tasted like bitter regret to him.

-----------

Tommy came an hour early for his shift the next day as he, once again, couldn’t sleep. Rubbing his face tiredly (and making a mental note to shave before Captain Pruitt sees him and give him another verbal reprimand on personal hygiene) when Harbor’s latest probie pilot, Nell ‘Twitch’ Andrews, lurched toward him and pushed a basket full of cookies at him before walking off. “Someone left this for you earlier today.” She called out before walking into one of the desks. 

Tommy winced before pulling the poor kid away from the table. “Did you get the name of the person who dropped this off?”

“He didn’t say. Just tell me to give it to you and only you.” She rubbed her eyes tiredly. 

“Ok, what does he look like? Maybe he’s one of my friends.”

The probie just blinked tiredly at him and gestured vaguely over her head. “About this high? And he has a pretty smile? I,” She yawned tiredly, “didn’t pay attention, sorry.”

“It’s your 4 days off after this right? Go catch some sleep before you hurt yourself.” Tommy grabbed some of the cookies and gave it to her. After making sure she left with her brother, who came to pick her up, Tommy looked into the basket and admired the beautifully decorated christmas themed sugar cookies, the gooey smores cookies with the marshmallow center, chewy looking red velvet cookies and his favourite, decadent looking triple chocolate cookies, all labelled just like the ones at his place but this time each labels had some cheeky christmas cheers and jokes on it. 

“What’s that?” Melton and Lucy appeared out of nowhere, followed by fellow Aeromedical pilot Miriam Kareem and her co-pilot Zack Black, surrounding him and his bounty. 

“Cookies!!” Miriam made grabby motion toward the basket and pouted when Tommy simply held the basket over her head. 

“Come on, you can’t finish all of them by yourself. And you already have all that snacks in your fridge. Where’s my cupcakes anyways?” Lucy groused.

“Snack? Cupcakes? And you weren’t gonna share?” Everyone began complaining loudly, especially when Captain Pruitt came over, attracted by the noise. A brief scuffle then ensued where Tommy escaped the horde with less than half of the cookies intact. He immediately hid in his favorite secret nook (the fire escape on the second floor that overlooks over the entire airfield) and ate most of them, while scrolling through his social media, lingering over old photos he took with Evan and their text messages, typing and deleting every single sentence he typed in the chat.

---------

Buck didn’t plan for this to happen at first.

It was by coincidence that he was even in the same place as Tommy that night.

Buck had run out of flour (again) and instead of doing the sane thing and sleep, he decided to do a midnight run to the store. 

There he was, at the baking aisle, trying to figure out if he should buy the whole grain flour and make mini pizzas to bring in for work tomorrow when he saw Tommy blearily staring at the colorful cereal boxes in front of him.

Taking in his unkempt look, the unshaved beard and the dark circle under his still beautiful blue eyes, Buck’s first thought was who was taking care of him now?

His second thought, what the fuck, I’m still mad at him.

His third and fourth thoughts were fretful. Is he sleeping well? He looks so thin; is he skipping meals?

So yes, he wasn’t proud of what he did next but staring into Tommy’s empty fridge with the expired carton of orange juice when he came by to put some prepped meals and snacks he made for him, he knew he was doing the right thing.

After restocking the fridge with more homemade soups and some chicken and leek pies for Tommy to enjoy after his shift, Buck wandered around the house, sighing when he saw the loads of dirty laundry waiting to be cleaned in the laundry room.

Tommy really did hate doing laundry. 

He quickly separates the clothes according to color and starts the wash before going to Tommy’s bedroom and sinking into his bed, breathing in the scent of cedar and rosewood. 

He know what he’s doing is wrong and creepy as fuck but someone needs to take care of the man since clearly he had been neglecting himself for the past month! ( Serve him right for breaking up with him, hmph! )

Buck rolled out of bed and began to change the sheets so Tommy can sleep easily after his shift, making sure the pillows are fluffed just the way Tommy liked it, remembering the times Tommy did the same for him. 

Damn, he missed having Tommy doting on him and him doting on the stupid dork.

After cleaning up the rest of the house and folding the laundry away, Buck left the house the same way he came in (through the kitchen door and the backyard; Tommy forgot he told Buck where he kept his spare kitchen door keys, the very same way Tommy forgot they synced their google calendar months ago hence how Buck knew his schedule), taking with him one of Tommy’s LAFD hoodies. 

What? He deserved some treats too!

Plus he missed sleeping in Tommy’s clothes, surrounded by his scent.

Tommy stumbled into his place, yawning. Thankfully the 24 hour shift was a Q-word shift and he ended up burning up the sugar rush by being a menace with his clipboard, running maintenance on all the helicopters in the hangar. 

(Lucy may have sneakily taken a picture of him and sent it to Eddie, who blanched all the way from El Paso, Dear God, there’s two of them! Did Buck infect Tommy with his clipboard persona? Is Chris next? They did spend a lot of time together while Chris was growing up. Eddie thought, looking suspiciously at his son, who looked weirdly at his father.)

----------

Tommy entered his house and tiredly dropped his bag onto the floor. Taking in the afternoon sunlight bathing the living room, he noticed a hoodie hanging over his couch. 

Ah, his intruder was here again. 

As he passed the couch with his bag of dirty clothes, he swiped the familiar looking hoodie with him as he made his way to the laundry room. 

As much as he wanted to ignore the pile of dirty clothes and sleep the shift off, he knew he needed to get a head start on it or end up regretting it. So it was to his surprise when he saw the empty baskets and the neatly folded towels on top of his dryer. He immediately ran to his closet and there it was, his freshly laundered clothes hung neatly, separated by colors and types. 

Hmm… 

He then turned to his bed and to his surprised pleasure, the bed sheets were changed. He couldn’t resist and sank into the freshly made bed and dragged the hoodie close to his face, hugging it tightly as he breathed in the familiar faint smoke, musk and mint scent.

“Evan, why are you being too nice to me?” He groaned, falling asleep surrounded by his ex’s scent. 

tagging: @cannibalhellhound @weewookinard @herrmannhalsteadproduction @leashybebes @blue-arts-stuff @cjlouwho @peppermintquartz @aringofsalt @bidisasterevanbuckley

[mr-styles]

Emily Blunt on loving Harry: "Who doesn’t? He’s so divine, he’s fab!" - via Lorraine

[heylorrain]

I. THE BASICS

Name: Lorrain Morgana

Nickname: Lorra - Meva Lorra ( just Ominis can call her that, means Mine. My Lorra ) 

Gender: Female

Birth Date: October 31st

Species: Human

Blood Status: Mudblood-Pureblood

Eyes: Green

Hair: Red-Strawberry blonde

II. MAGIC

Wand: Jörmundgander’s Fang 14 1/2 inches, Hard

For a brief period, she relied on a borrowed wand to harness her magical abilities. But soon enough, she realized she could control magic without the aid of a wand and began practicing without it. It was not an easy task, as her articulations, particularly her fingers, were rigid and uncooperative if not guided by a wand's precise movements. She does not posses the ability to see or use ancient magic. Her powers come from the medieval times.

Animagus: Maine Coon cat

Patronus: Eel 

Patronus Memory: 1. Summer vacation with her Aunt in Paris. 

Boggart: Ominis after The New Years Party

Riddikulus: - ( can’t do it yet :( ) 

III. Amortentia (What Lorra smells like):

Lavender, Cinammon with honey and oak wood. 

(What Lorra smells) 

Fresh Icy Mint, old books and rain (Ominis' smell)

IV. PERSONALITY

Intelligent - Lorrain was a quick-witted and ambitious student, proudly representing her house of Slytherin. With an almost photographic memory, she could easily recall every fact and detail from her studies, but there was a gap in her mind where memories of her childhood should be. Perhaps it was due to her intense focus on the present and future, always striving for success. Among her favorite classes were potions and divination. 

Go with the flow - She is reminiscent of a capybara, her warm smile always present and her social nature drawing others in. She has an uncanny ability to adjust her energy to match those around her, making everyone feel comfortable and at ease. A good listener, she will always offer sincere and honest advice, telling you what you need to hear rather than what you want to hear. Her sincerity shines through in every interaction, making her a trusted confidant. 

Social Anxiety  - Despite her natural social demeanor, she occasionally experiences bouts of “unexplained” anxiety. When they do occur, she has discovered that immersing herself in water helps to calm her. The gentle touch against her body and the feeling of being embraced by the element bring a sense of tranquility and clarity to her mind.

Bullies - Despite being a Slytherin, she cannot stand to see others being hurt or mocked by those with cruel intentions. For instance, when "Puffskein Dunkein" was laughed at, she may have joined in on the joke, but if she were to witness him being incessantly teased, pushed, and ridiculed with malice, she would not hesitate to take action. She. will. slap. you. 

Mind focus - With fierce determination, Lorrain throws herself into any task or goal she sets her mind to. She pours all of her energy and focus into making sure that her objectives are not only accomplished, but done so with integrity and without causing harm to others. Her unwavering commitment and strong moral compass guide her towards success. 

Love language - Lorrain is a master of all five love languages, adapting to the people she's with. If she knows you appreciate a home-cooked meal when you're feeling down, she'll whip one up to lift your spirits. If she senses that Ominis has had a rough day, her love pours out in all five languages simultaneously, determined to make her man feel loved and cherished. She doesn't have a favorite among the five, cherishing each one as it is demonstrated to her by others. To Lorrain, love is not just words or actions, but an intricate dance of understanding and connection between two souls.

Self consciousness: She exudes confidence as she playfully flirts with Ominis in public. She knows her worth, both in terms of relationships and friendships. Despite this, she also possesses a strong sense of self-control and can contain herself when faced with rudeness. She is capable of counting to five Mississippis in order to maintain composure, but if the person persists she will not hesitate to retaliate with clever remarks that leave them silenced. Her words are her weapon, and she wields them with precision and grace, never resorting to rudeness herself… and if they continue: Slap. 

Hair:  Whenever she is learning something new, or challenging, she’ll braid her hair. So if you think she’s up to something, check for braids!. 

V. HOGWARTS INFORMATION

Class Proficiency:

Astronomy: ★★★★★

Charms: ★★★☆☆

DADA: ★★★★★

Divination: ★★★★★

Flying: ★★★★★★★★

Herbology: ☆☆☆☆☆

History of Magic: ★★☆☆☆

Magical Theory: ★★★★☆

Potions: ★★★★★★★★★★

Transfiguration: ★★★★☆

Favorite Teacher: Matilda Weasley & Professor Sharp. 

Least Favorite Teacher: Professor Cuthbert Binns. Enough said.

Quidditch position: beater 

👉 if you made it this far... Thank you 🫰 and have a cookie 🍪

[ktsipp]

Sunset over Fairmount, from the Divine Lorraine

[nonesuchrecords]

Classical singer Julia Bullock—who performs in John Adams's El Niño with Davóne Tines and AMOC at NYC's Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine this Thursday—stopped by for the Nonesuch Selects video series, in which artists visit the Nonesuch office, pick some of their favorite albums from the music library, and share a few words on their choices. She chose recordings by the Gipsy Kings, k.d. lang, Jan DeGaetani, Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, Dawn Upshaw, Sanford Sylvan, Caetano Veloso, and Adams.

[phillytranswoman]

"You Go Girl"

Backside of the Divine Lorraine Hotel

[novella-writers]

🕊 18+ fellow religious horror fan here looking for other 18+ writers. currently craving a roleplay inspired by the conjuring universe and the cases of ed and lorraine, as well as several other paranormal movies like sydney sweeney’s immaculate!! i would love to explore themes of demonic possession and exorcisms gone horrendously wrong, divine retribution, a dark, gritty atmosphere… you get the image.

for the idea itself, i’d like it to be set sometime between 60s - 70s—in which a priest and a nun are dispatched by the church to investigate a grotesque, unexplained event—which they believe to be supernatural.

the only twist is? the priest is a demon.

not looking for passive writers who do nothing to move the plot forward + passive, one-dimensional characters; bring me your worst, your most depraved, your vilest, i’m begging, bc i write my muses just as twisted and i need the energy matched.

mxf and role of f + nun preferred. both real-life and art [manga/manhwa] fcs are more than welcome, but it’s not a must! i love moodboards and playlists, enthusiastic plotting, and chatting ooc so please don’t hesitate to bombard me with your ideas!

blasphemous elements and gore may be present + dead dove themes are preferred, limits and triggers can be discussed in private. i’m not looking for a light-hearted story! i write advanced literate to novella level, so if you’re lit to semi-lit, this might not be the ad for you.

if you’re interested, like and i’ll message you!

Like if interested!

[prpfz]

🕊 18+ fellow religious horror fan here looking for other 18+ writers. currently craving a roleplay inspired by the conjuring universe and the cases of ed and lorraine, as well as several other paranormal movies like sydney sweeney’s immaculate!! i would love to explore themes of demonic possession and exorcisms gone horrendously wrong, divine retribution, a dark, gritty atmosphere… you get the image.

for the idea itself, i’d like it to be set sometime between 60s - 70s—in which a priest and a nun are dispatched by the church to investigate a grotesque, unexplained event—which they believe to be supernatural.

the only twist is? the priest is a demon.

not looking for passive writers who do nothing to move the plot forward + passive, one-dimensional characters; bring me your worst, your most depraved, your vilest, i’m begging, bc i write my muses just as twisted and i need the energy matched.

mxf and role of f + nun preferred. both real-life and art [manga/manhwa] fcs are more than welcome, but it’s not a must! i love moodboards and playlists, enthusiastic plotting, and chatting ooc so please don’t hesitate to bombard me with your ideas!

blasphemous elements and gore may be present + dead dove themes are preferred, limits and triggers can be discussed in private. i’m not looking for a light-hearted story! i write advanced literate to novella level, so if you’re lit to semi-lit, this might not be the ad for you.

if you’re interested, like and i’ll message you!

Leave a like, and anon will get back to you!

[rphunter]

🕊 18+ fellow religious horror fan here looking for other 18+ writers. currently craving a roleplay inspired by the conjuring universe and the cases of ed and lorraine, as well as several other paranormal movies like sydney sweeney’s immaculate!! i would love to explore themes of demonic possession and exorcisms gone horrendously wrong, divine retribution, a dark, gritty atmosphere… you get the image.

for the idea itself, i’d like it to be set sometime between 60s - 70s—in which a priest and a nun are dispatched by the church to investigate a grotesque, unexplained event—which they believe to be supernatural.

the only twist is? the priest is a demon.

not looking for passive writers who do nothing to move the plot forward + passive, one-dimensional characters; bring me your worst, your most depraved, your vilest, i’m begging, bc i write my muses just as twisted and i need the energy matched.

mxf and role of f + nun preferred. both real-life and art [manga/manhwa] fcs are more than welcome, but it’s not a must! i love moodboards and playlists, enthusiastic plotting, and chatting ooc so please don’t hesitate to bombard me with your ideas!

blasphemous elements and gore may be present + dead dove themes are preferred, limits and triggers can be discussed in private. i’m not looking for a light-hearted story! i write advanced literate to novella level, so if you’re lit to semi-lit, this might not be the ad for you.

if you’re interested, like and i’ll message you!

.

[exhaustthebones]

The divine Lorraine hotel in Philadelphia

[salllzy]

The herd #5

Stephanie knew that her sisters were what one would class as unhinged, Sarah was especially unhinged. Mainly when it came to their happiness, safety and protection. She was like their papa when it came to them, not that she would complain, too much. Arin was a dancer, who made a fortune on the stage. Lorraine was a translator and a highly sought-after one and she got to tinker with what projects took her fancy, she didn't have to worry about money, a home or safety and she knew why. Sarah ran the network and she made sure that any problems that appeared in their lives were dealt with swiftly and efficiently. Their papa was just as bad, but just because they were protected didn't mean that they were weak. Being Nephilim meant that they had far more power than the average sinner demon and it came with many downsides. For starters they had more energy to burn and if they didn't burn it? They would enter a manic state until they could. Sure they were powerful but it wasn't as if they knew how to use it, everything that they had learned had been due to trial and error, more error than anything else. Still, she had her family by her side and she couldn't ask for a better family. Even when they were about to be led into battle. "Arin, this is for you." A box was tossed towards Arin, the doe demon caught it her striped hair was tied into a haphazard ponytail. "Stephaine, this is for you." She caught the bundle that had been tossed at her, it was heavy and she wondered what was in it. She unrolled it and whistled. Inside were two custom-made pistols, she picked them up and looked at the mags that were with them. Custom-made bullets as well, Sarah always knew how to treat a lady. She marvelled at the quality of them and knew that they must have cost a pretty penny, the materials alone would have bankrupted most citizens in the Pride Ring. "Dad, this one is for you." She watched as their papa caught the bundle, she wondered what was in it. Thankfully she didn't have to wait long. He unrolled the fabric and looked at the cane inside of it, the cane gleamed. "Pure angelic steel, with a few little tweaks here and there." It looked like a perfect replica of the one that he always used. But despite being a few feet away from him, she could feel the divine power pouring off it. It wasn't all that shocking that Sarah knew how to kill the Exorcists and most likely had known all along. That was a very Sarah thing to do. Still, there was no denying that the eldest of the DeCoux daughters had gone all out with the weapons that she had given them. The wire that she had given Arin was made of angelic steel and Stephaine knew that the moment that Arin got onto the battle field? The angels were going to drop from the sky. It was going to be magnificent to watch that was for certain.

[tellurian-in-aristasia]

The Emblem for the St. Bride's School, this was seemingly used for both their computer game publishing, as well as their actual stay-over role-play school. Semper Ad Lucem means "Always Light", or perhaps "Always Towards The Light", at least according to Google, I fear I would utterly flunk Latin if you were to test me. I'm unsure of what the connotation of of this slogan means, but one can't help but be reminded of their frequent use of sun imagery as a reference to the divine in Aristasian lore. What the two-barred cross (also known as the Cross of Lorraine and, ironically, the patriarchal cross) also means in this context is a bit of a mystery as well to me. I fear I would have flunked both Latin and heraldic symbolism classes.

[lewis-winters]

Pls talk abt 'an angel went to sleep in georgia' bc I'm intrigued - Nathan

Ok, this fic has absolutely nothing to do with HBO War HAHAHA it's basically Amabeal (originally a Supernatural OC that I made when I was 15 and who has taken on a life of her own) + the ConjuringVerse!Warrens (bc the real life Warrens are terrible, horrible people-- actually their being horrible irl is a huge part of the reason why this fic is solely guilty pleasure fic). The gist of it is Lorraine and Ed go to Georgia because some spooky shit's been going down there, only to accidentally wake up a sleeping Amabeal, who has been trying to avoid responsibility and is also very weary of loving people only to lose them to war, genocide, and plague. Basically this fic is just that one time Lorraine and Ed were forced to parent the last of God's divine creations while she was throwing a prolonged tantrum that would put any sleepy toddler to absolute shame.

Excerpt:

Lorraine is ten years old when she first sees it.

It is nothing like the stories she grew up hearing or the glass-stained windows she grew up seeing-- in fact, mere days from now, Lorraine won't clearly remember what It truly looks like, anymore. Only what It is, and that she saw It at all, bent over the bed across the room, cooing at a boy with plastic tubes going in and out of his little body. Everything else; the light and power pulsing beneath Its eeriely human looking skin, the wings dark as cosmos, speckled with galaxies, protruding big and vast on Its back, the divine buzz of otherotherother that lurks behind Its vast eyes-- all of It will be lost to the finite weaknesses of Lorraine's human mind, unable to comprehend the whole of Its divinity.

But, in this moment, Lorraine is looking at It. Lorraine is seeing all of It, and It is beginning to look at Lorraine, Its whole, vast Being freezing for a split second, sensing her eyes, before a gaze of unfathomable starlight whips around and pins her in place.

"Hello," the Angel says, in a tongue that is a thousand voices and absolute silence, all at once. Then, It frowns. "Goodbye."

In a second, It is gone, and Lorraine's vision goes dark as she pitches forward unto the floor.

[shemarpierre]

#shemarpierre with band at Divine Lorraine Hotel (2023)