#I have church Monday what am I doing
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can-i-phone-a-friend · 7 months ago
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Wisdom teeth wasn’t awful, minus my migraine
But back to horny posting
Prowl bent over his desk but literally anyone
I volunteer either the entire Constructicon group, Optimus or Magnus
Idk. Just someone
RAIL HIM. I want nail marks left in his desk he’s holding on so hard. Puddle of drool under his cheek cuz he’s open mouth moaning the entire time. Door wings violently twitching with the rough thrusting he’s receiving
If it’s the gestalt he’s absolutely got at least one of two of them overloading on him. He’s so out of it he can’t really jerk them off or help. Just receive (they don’t mind, he looks gorgeous like this)
If it’s Optimus I know that shit gets kinky. Like. Authority kink stuff. Optimus bites. You can’t take this away from me. Not tearing or anything, but he leaves imprints in prowls shoulder and prowl loves it. (Door wing bites are hit or miss, have to be light or timed with a good enough thrust)
Magnus. This is a guilty pleasure and I don’t have anything on it. I just think that big strong mech should bend prowl over. Or. God bless. Sit in prowls chair and bounce the officer on his spike.
Good fucking god im thinking about them
A lot actually
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aroace-poly-show · 2 years ago
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i’m so so happy i have a 3 day weekend :)))
(<- ignoring the Horrors coming for me this weekend)
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jillsandwhichs · 4 months ago
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Tip
Chapter 9 to RE Character x Reader Smutshot Collection
Masterlist
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Pairing: F!Reader x Leon Kennedy
Summary: You are a waitress at a local diner in the city. Sure, you've had your fair share of flirty, pervy customers but none have ever been as enticing as this one
Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Strangers/Hookup
WC: 4.1k
Type: NSFW
Warnings: Reader is in early adult years, Leon is late 20s, Flirting, Leon is cocky and rich, BJ, Slight cum kink, Spanking, Hair pulling, Cums in your mouth, Protected P in V, Riding, Dry humping and Dirty talk
A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you
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It has just been another casual day at the diner. Cleaning tables and dishes, attending to customers and sweeping the floors, it's just another Monday. Waiting tables is what you do for a living, for now. It isn't ideal but you don't mind it too much. You always get decent tips and an alright pay. You live alone so you don't have to worry too much about how big your paycheck is or how much you make in tips daily. As long as you're rolling in dough, you're set.
This day particularly has been slow. Mondays are one of the slowest days of the week because it's the first work day which means less business. It's mainly older people and church groups who eat during the day on Mondays but towards the later hours of the day, families and sports teams come in. The diner you work for is the hot spot in the city. Everyone who lives in the city or nearby comes often.
Your shift is getting closer to being done. You only have two hours left. It ends at 4:00 PM and you started work today at 8:00 AM. It's been so slow that it feels as if you've been here since yesterday. You can't wait to get back to your homey apartment. You have an essay due today in your Art History class so you'll have to get that done but after that, the rest of the day is yours!
Wiping down a table, you heard the main door open. There is a bell attached to the top of it to tell workers anytime someone walks in or not. The two customers that were just at this booth made sure to clean up their space and it put you in an even better mood. You sprayed hygienic water onto the table one last time and wiped it down before setting out new napkins and silverware for when the next group comes in.
You were about to amble off to the back but you were stopped by a man's voice. His voice was deep and husky. It startled you a bit, admittedly. You turned around to face and you were left stunned by how tall he was. You're short, yes, but this man is a giant! Your eyes went up to meet with his. His are a bright blue. They are oceanic. He has a broad stature too, he clearly works out often. He's wearing a casual outfit but it still appears a bit more fancy for where he's currently at.
"Excuse me, could I get a table for one? Just looking to have some lunch." He said in that deep voice. You looked him up and down and as you did, he said another thing. "My eyes are up here." He teased, his blue eyes locking with yours. You felt embarrassment wash over you. How could you not admire this man? He looks like a model. "Um, sorry... Just follow me." You murmured, heading towards a clean circle table near the center of the diner.
The man followed behind you and once you presented the table to him, he took his seat. "I'll be back shortly. Figure out what you'd like to drink until then." "Wait, what's your name? Isn't it courtesy that the waitress tells her waiters her name?" You told him his name with a scoff. He seems slightly cocky. "Pretty name. I'm Leon." Leon stated. "Cool name. I'll be back shortly." You said a bit more sternly. You walked off and pushed the back door open to enter the kitchen.
You checked to see if all of the drink machines are still working. Your manager let you know yesterday that they've been a bit janky. You tested each one and they all seemingly worked. Only three other people are working with you today. Leah, Maverick and Dean. Leah is a waitress and Mav & Dean are cooks. Mondays truly are so easy to work.
You exited the kitchen and went to wait another table before Leon's. This table just wanted one plate of Alfredo and a plate of beef stew. "I'll have those out to you two in a bit." You said with your customer service voice. You've gotten very good at it. Strolling over to the kitchen, you stuck your ticket up on the metal bar. "Order for table four, be quick guys." You said to both of the men working. You trust they'll get it done quickly.
Leah was waiting her own section of tables. Hers seem to be going by a lot faster which irritates you. You want more tables for more money. You don't necessarily need it, but of course it's nice to have.
Making your way back over to Leon, you saw his face weirdly light up when he saw you. Is this guy a creeper? You stood in front of his table with a notepad before asking what he'd like to drink and eat. "I'll just take a coke and to eat, I'll have your creamy ravioli. I have a question for you now." He stated. "Uh, okay, go ahead and ask." You replied softly as you wrote his order down. "When is your shift over?" "That is none of your concern."
Assumption confirmed, this guy is a weirdo. Why would some elegant looking man be asking you of all people that odd question? Does he want to kidnap you or something? You were always taught to not give out info like that. It's vital.
"I'm not some pervert or anything." He chuckled. "Can a man not be curious?" "Why are you curious about when I get off of work?" "Because I think you're a pretty girl and I'd like to take you out." Leon smirked at you. "I bet you say that to all the ladies." You rolled your eyes. "I'll be back with your food in a bit." You scoffed and went to walk off but this arrogant man stopped you once again.
"When does your shift end?" This guy's persistence is appalling. Can't he take a hint? "None of your business." "Three? Four? Tell me." He said softly, his tone a lot less deep down. You sighed deeply. It won't kill for him to know. You're going straight home anyways. "Four. You aren't taking me out." "We'll see about that." You gave him an irritated look and trailed off. You're just going to give the paper to the chefs so that this man can leave ASAP.
Stepping up to the kitchen area again, you handed them a new ticket. You want this Leon guy in and out of here. You've had one to many men hitting on you, do these men realize how young you are? Leon appears to be in his late twenties, possibly early thirties and you're a College student! Men are so desperate nowadays. Sure, drabbling in older men isn't a bad thing, but not these kind of older men.
You grabbed a tray of refill drinks to take to one of your other tables. You almost forgot about them.
Exiting the kitchen, you went over to their table and set their drinks down. "A water for the lady and a coke for the gentleman. Enjoy." Leah will most likely take this section over soon, she tends to. Your eyes went to Leon's table and unsurprisingly, his eyes were on you. "What a loser." You mumbled beneath your breath. He's a handsome man, most definitely, but why would he want anything to do with you? He's probably just trying to get a quick fuck in.
If he wasn't so forward and weird about it, you would probably give in. That pretty much sums up how you are as a girl. You aren't a virgin, you like sex and you've never had it with an older man. You bet it's quite the experience.
After waiting almost eight minutes, you got the couples food to them and set it down. "Here you two go. Enjoy." You said with a friendly tone. Leon's was done as well. Time to journey back to the table of doom.
With the bowl and drink in hand, you went to Leon's table and set both down. "There you go. Enjoy your beverage and meal." "I sure will. Thank you." Leon replied, looking you up and down. His look is rather enticing. He's an enticing man. "Don't look at me like that." You said with a shy tone. It made you rather nervous, shy even. No man has made you feel that way in some time. "Like what?" "Like that."
He knows what he is doing. He does. "What is your problem?" You put your hands on your hips. This is completely against protocol. Even when a customer is an ass, you should remain calm and collected but God, this guy is insufferable. "I'll answer anything you'd like... If you agree to come with me after my shift." Has this man ever learned about stranger danger. "No, you could be a murderer." "I could be, but I'm not. I'm just a blind dog looking for a bone." He is cheesy.
You rolled your eyes and rubbed your temple.
"What is it you want?" "You." "Why?" "I can see you're different. Plus, you're stunning." The compliment made your stomach heat up. "Different? You've spoken to me only a little." "What's your point?" "You know nothing about me." "I'd like to know everything about you." God, can he not take a hint? You giggled. "We can just sit in my car after your shift and talk. We'll even stay in the parking lot, if that makes you feel safer." He smirked at you.
Why is he so fucking convincing???
Your eyes scanned the clock above one of the tables and you heaved softly. "Come back at four. We'll talk then." You smiled softly but tried to hide it. Leon bit his lip and nodded. "See you then."
-
Four PM.
You're in the locker room. It's a small but useful room. Your removed your apron and released your hair from its ponytail. You shook your hair and brushed it slightly. For a moment, you completely forgot about the whole Leon situation, but it's suddenly hit you. Before he left his table, he left you a $50 tip. That's insane. You were grateful and expressed that. You suppose its only respectful if you go with him.
He promised to even let you hold onto his car keys if it makes you feel better. You know what it'll most likely turn into and you're down, even though you didn't want to admit it at first.
You left the room and pushed open the entry door back into the restaurant and you saw Leon's car out in the parking lot. You sighed deeply and looked over to Dean who was also about to clock out. "See you Wednesday." "See you then." Dean waved goodbye to you. You returned the gesture and made your way out of the diner.
Leon's eyes met with yours. Those blue orbs, they are intoxicating. You rolled your eyes and walked up to his vehicle. He has a Cadillac. You can tell by its shape and symbol. He nudged his head for you to get in, and you did. You opened up the passenger door and sat down and immediately put your hand out. "Keys." "Right here." He placed them in your hand. They are the right keys. This eased you a lot more.
"What do you want with me? Do you do this with other women?" "I mean, I have. I won't lie to you. It has been a long time though, little over a year." Leon tittered. "I just think you're very pretty." "You've established that." "Isn't it rather obvious what I'd like to do with and to you?" That made your heart skip beats. "Not really." You have an idea. You'll play dumb though. You want to hear it from his own mouth.
Leon laughed and grinned. He leaned a bit closer to you. "I entered that diner and immediately saw a pretty girl with a pretty mouth. I'd like to see it around my dick." You lost your breath at his words. It's been a long time since you've hooked up with anyone and this is quite the way for it to happen after all this time. "What?" You said breathlessly. "I also want to show you how a real man fucks. Not none of that College boy bullshit." He adjusted himself. So he is aware that you are in College. Great guess.
Running your fingers through your hair, you felt your entire body heating up. You were most definitely blushing. You could feel the gush between your folds beginning to form. "If you want to just hookup with girls, why not use Tinder?" "I find doing it through person more real and authentic." You couldn't tell if that was sarcasm or not. "You are a total creep." "I'm a man with needs and you'd fulfill them well." You scoffed at his sentence. "Bite me." You went to open the car door but he grabbed your wrist.
"Hey, no, no, please." Leon said softly. "If you really want to go, then okay, have at it but I promise I'll give you such a good time." Leon pleaded with you. His tone was desperate. Why was that attractive to you? Your eyes went to his bulge. He was clearly rock hard. You are wet, you can feel it. Why do you feel so odd for doing this? It's just a hookup.
You bit your lip and analyzed the outside area before handing him his keys. "There's an alleyway about three block from here. Take us and I'll hookup with you." Confidence filled your voice. He laughed. "Smart girl." He turned his car on and began the drive to the alleyway, which only took maybe a minute or two.
-
The second he parked, your hands went to his belt and he snickered. "More eager and horny than I am now, huh?" "No. I just want to get this over with." "Right." He snorted. You removed his leather belt and tossed it in the back. You undid the singular button that was sown onto his pants and that was when his huge cock sprung out. Bigger than any you've ever seen or had. You already can foreshadow how this'll feel down your throat.
He already had precum as well. To you, cum is so hot. You have an intense kink for it. You rubbed the semen on your thumb and sucked it off of it. Leon chuckled. "That's a good sign." He hummed. You brushed your hair to the side and smiled at him. "Make sure my hair stays out of my face." "Will do." That was the last thing you said before you wrapped your lips around the base of his cock.
This isn't anything you haven't done before. You'd even call yourself a pro. At a slow pace, you moved your head up and down. He was big, so you wanted to take it at a decent pace. Leon's hand stayed on your back for the time being. You felt his hand rubbing it softly. He was being gentle with you. His tip kept hitting the roof of your mouth. You couldn't believe it but you could already sense you'd be gagging a whole lot.
With your tongue, you slurped around the head of his dick. You felt his hole twitch when you did that. "You're a fucking goddess at sucking dick." He said bluntly whilst his head went backwards. You wanted to laugh but you physically couldn't. You continued to lick and suck. It's weird but you want him to feel as though you're the best he's had. This is like a challenge for you, a game even.
You began to bob your head faster now. Your head moved up and down at a quick pace. Leon's hand tangled in your hair. His fingers tips lightly scratched your head and it made your pussy tingle. You haven't felt this way in such a long time. Leon wrapped your hair around his hand, his grip was firm. You knew he was this type. He seems like a kinky man overall.
The little whimpers you made caused Leon to moan himself. He found you very sexy and your noises only added to that. "You look beautiful like this." He huffed out. His throat felt like it was going to close. His muscles were tightening. His member was twitching in your mouth. The man is close.
"How many hummers have you had to give to be so good?" He grunted. Now he was basically pushing your head and pulling it back up. You didn't even have to do the work anymore. His hand pulled your hair and God, it felt good. You moaned around his dick. You swiped your tongue from the lower base and back up to the tip and that must've been his undoing.
Leon kept your head in place. His tip was deep throating you. That familiar taste filled your mouth and entered your taste buds. All cum has tasted similar to you with minor differences. Whats different about Leon's is the fact is more of a thick texture rather than the usual more liquidy version. It was fine though. You swallowed it all.
The man was panting heavily as you popped his cock out. Your licked your lips and wiped them with your sweater. "Jesus..." He laughed. "That was good." He praised you. "Unfuckingbelievable." He smirked at you. "I've had practice." "Clearly." He squeezed your hip and gazed at you. "Get in the back so I can fuck you." He chuckled. You giggled to and looked behind you.
You crawled over the center console and squealed as you felt a hard smack to your ass as you did. You briskly sat down and adjusted your skirt. You are wearing a beige sweater with a printed skirt. It was the change of clothes you brought to work since it's Fall. The weather is breezy & chilly but also warm and cozy. Leon just held his pants up as he got out of the car and got into the back. There was no way he was going to climb over as you did.
He sat down and spread his legs to a degree. He pulled his pants back down too. You gawked at him momentarily and he noticed. "Like what you see?" "Mhm." You nodded moderately. He laughed. "Sit on my lap." You listened. You straddled him. Hands on his shoulders and thighs on either side of his. His hands went to your waist. "Feel that?" He was referring to his tip rubbing against your panties.
"You need it inside of you, hm?" He began to slowly pull your hips forward. The slight grind he was forcing you to do made you even more soaked. "I do." You whispered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. "I know you do doll." You felt a surge of lust course through you. You want this man to destroy you.
One hand left your hip and went to his cock instead. He rubbed his tip against your cunt through your panties. "I can feel how wet you are." He sighed softly, kissing the side of your head. "I wanna feel how tight you are." He murmured against your ear before biting the lobe of it. You moaned and felt your stomach twist. How is he making you feel all these ways all at once? He's a master at this. It's such a turn on.
Pulling your panties to the side, he stroked his cock through your bare folds now, picking your wetness up. "How does this feel?" He said in a low tone. "Good. Really good." You hummed in reply, kissing his neck gently. "Mmm, good." He kissed your cheek. He let go of his cock and reached into his pocket. "Gotta wrap it." "Yeah." You snickered. You lifted your body up so he could put the rubber on. Once he did, he pulled you back down.
"Now princess, tell me, how does this feel?" And as he hummed that to you, he stuck his dick inside of you. You moaned softly and gripped his shirt. "Mmm, you just gave me the exact answer I was searching for." You moaned again and pressed your lips against his. You don't think Leon was expecting that, but he liked it. His hands went to your face as you began to both kiss him and ride him.
You rode him at an unrushed pace. He kissed you passionately. Almost right as you two started to make out, you both opened your mouths and tongued one another. You bounced on his cock as you stuck your tongue deep in his mouth. Leon caressed your face and slowly brought his hands down to your ass cheeks. He held onto them tightly and ever so often slapped them.
"You're so fucking tight." He grunted, licking your lip and kissing you again. "You feel so deep inside of me." You whimpered. It was true. He's so long and girthy. He's rubbing against your wet & gushy walls in the most pleasurable way. "You can take it. You're a slut, I know you can." You laughed at his words and bit his lower lip. "I'm not a whore." "You sure fuck like one. Look at how you're riding me." In all fairness, you are skillfully riding him and bouncing on him. Your movements are of expertise.
You rolled your eyes at his snotty words. "Guess me getting around has really paid off." "Yeah, sure, but I promise I'll be your best." He slapped your ass hard, making you speechless. Only noises of pleasure and need came from you. He felt so good. Your cunt was tightening around him, you could feel it and so could he.
Your head autonomously tilted backwards. Your mouth was agape as little whimpers emitted from him. Leon's hands continued to grip your ass. He occasionally spreaded your cheeks and stuck his finger on your anus, making your body shake. He must have a thing for that, you suppose. "Pretty girl." He reached his free hand up and taped it around your neck lightly. "Gonna make you have the best fucking orgasm." He whispered to you before he began to thrust up.
You quit moving your hips entirely and just sat there as he fucked you messily. His hip thrusts were sloppy but they were getting the job down. "Taking is so fucking well. I need you again sometime." You couldn't tell if there was truth in that or if it was pure lust and desire. You simply rested your head against his shoulder as he pumped up into you. "I'm gonna cum." You whispered, your tone soft and shaky. "Cum for me babygirl." Leon kissed your forehead.
That'll do it.
Your body shook as your orgasm blew over you. You felt waves and waves of pleasure crash into you out of no where. Your walls clenched around his member and that was what finished him off. "Fuuuck." His words dragged out as he came. Your arms encased around his neck and you just sat there as you came down from your high. He hugged you back. His cum squirted into the condom. You wish it could've been inside of you. Such a waste.
After a minute or so, you sat up and got off of him. You were breathless and at a loss for words. Your eyes glanced down at the condom; Pure white liquid filled it. "That was... God." You giggled, closing your legs and staring at him. He nodded and removed the condom, tossing it in a baggy. "Sure was." He caught his breath.
Leon looked at you and took your hand in his. "Was that the best orgasm you've had?" "I don't mean to bruise your ego but..." Leon snickered and playfully nudged you. "Shut up." You snorted and smiled at him. "Yeah, it was really good." You nodded. "I'm glad." He blew out a big breath of air.
"For the record, I wasn't just saying that." "Saying what?" "That I need you again sometime. I meant it." "Oh." You said with tranquility. "I'll give you my number then...?" "Yeah, I'll take it." Leon replied.
He handed you his phone and you began to jot the digits in.
This definitely won't be the last time you see Mr. Kennedy.
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janeyseymour · 10 months ago
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I Wouldn't Tell Anyone
based off of that tiktok trend: "i wouldn't tell anyone i won the lottery, but there'd be signs".
WC: ~2.75k
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Melissa Schemmenti has worked at Willard R. Abbott Elementary School for years. And in those years, the one constant in her life has been Barbara Howard. The two had started the same year, and while many things have changed, their friendship would never. No, Melissa had watched as Barbara married Gerald, witnessed the woman’s growing belly as she carried both of her daughters, had seen the ups and downs in the Howard family. And likewise, Barbara had been there to see the marriage to Joe, the divorce of Joe, the lean years… and everything in between. They’ve seen the way that teachers come and go, children grow up before their very eyes, and at this point they’ve taught children of students that they had in the starting years. Teaching practices have grown and changed- it’s really an ever-evolving world that they live in.
The second grade teacher had a solid wardrobe that she kept in rotation over the years- really just a few blazers, her signature leather jacket, the same shirt in various colors, a few pairs of slacks and jeans, and of course her heeled boots that she wore everyday without fail.
“Melissa,” Barbara had asked one day. “Perhaps you and I should hit the mall? I know some great places that have wonderful clearance sections.”
“Are you tellin’ me I need to change out my wardrobe?” the redhead teased as she threw her bag over her shoulder.
“You know that is not what I am saying, woman,” Barb rolled her eyes. “But I see the way that your shirts are starting to wear thin. I also need an outfit for the end of the year banquet that this damned superintendent is forcing me to go to.”
“When you’re part of a committee, you have to go to that kind of stuff,” the second grade teacher had smirked. “Why you think I ain’t a part of all that?”
Even after the two of them hit it off, going to the mall whenever they found themselves with enough money to spare to treat themselves to a shopping spree, Melissa’s outfits still mostly circulate without fail. 
Years pass, and then she meets you one night while she’s out at the bar. She walks in, and you’re captivated. You don’t know what draws you to her, but whatever it is is magical. Your eyes hardly leave her stunning figure as she dances. You know that by the end of the night, you have to at least attempt to make a move on her.
And you do when she decides to take a break from dancing to come over to the bar. Conveniently, the only opening is by where you’re sitting and nursing a margarita.
By some grace of God, she’s been watching you too- trying to figure out how to start a conversation with you over the loud music and people dancing all around you.
She saunters up to the spot that you’re at and smiles at you. Wow… her smile is radiant.
“How come a pretty girl like you ain’t out there dancing with someone?”
“Just came here after a hard day at work,” you shrug. “Wanted a marg, thought maybe the music and drinks would brighten my spirit.”
“Well, you got the marg,” she gestures to your half empty glass. “Why don’t I buy you another, and then we can listen to the music together?”
“I’m sure you have friends here that wouldn’t want me crashing.”
“I’m here alone,” the redhead reveals. “The name’s Melissa. And you are?”
“Y/N,” you tell her.
“Well, Y/N, why don’t you let me buy you a drink, and we can be alone… together.”
You end up getting her number as you part ways for the night, and simply text her when you get home that night, time and place.
She’s just walked into her own house when your text comes through. How does Renata’s Kitchen at 5:30 on Tuesday sound?
I have to wait tomorrow and Monday to see you?
I mean, I could grab a coffee tomorrow after church if you’d rather that, the redheaded beauty sends.
You send her the address of your favorite coffee place, which just so happens to be hers as well. You wonder if the two of you have ever run into each other and just not known it at the time.
The outing for coffee ends up being an entire day’s worth of just walking around the city together as you chat about life. You find out that she’s a second grade teacher at one of the local schools and that she has Sunday dinners with her family every week (that is actually the only reason she has to regretfully leave you that day) among many other things. She finds out that you work for one of the local law firms down the street from Abbott, ironically enough. How have the two of you never bumped into each other, or at least seen each other? You get to your place of work at the same time as she does, you’ve both gone down to the same Wawa at the same time for lunch because your lunch hours coincide, and she quite literally walks past your firm to get to happy hour specials with her coworkers.
Once she leaves you to head to her family dinner, she texts you to let you know that she would still love to do dinner with you on Tuesday. You excitedly reply that you would be absolutely delighted. 
The two of you have been going out for quite some time now, and it’s quite funny that you’ve both kept it on the down low. You’re a bit concerned that while courtrooms have progressed with society that if your relationship were to become public, it could get in the way of cases. And she, similarly is nervous that she could face backlash at the school she works for for being in a homosexual relationship. So, neither of you have said anything to your coworkers. And it’s all going swimmingly. While you had both just stumbled upon each other one night at the bar, not expecting to find each other, here you are two years later as a happy couple.
You land the case of a lifetime, one where you could make a decent profit off of your already relatively high paying salary. On top of that, you know that you’re about to be promoted after working with this firm for the last five years.
You end up winning the case, bringing in some good money, and then you’re moving up the ladder and finding yourself with more cash outflow than you know what to do with at the moment. It’s too much for you, living in a small apartment in the city by yourself with nothing else to worry about. So, when your girlfriend comes over to your apartment for dinner, you propose something.
“Mel?” you ask as she stands at your stovetop. She hums to let you know that she’s listening, but her eyes stay trained on the vegetables that she’s chopping right now. “How would you feel if we moved in together?”
The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board halts, and she turns to face you. “What?”
“We’ve been together for almost two years,” you tell her. “I just got that nice promotion, plus a huge payout from the settlement with DuBoise, so… I was thinking maybe we could move in together? Find a nice townhouse somewhere in the city and settle into our lives together?”
About a million emotions flicker through the redhead’s face before it settles on a smile. “I think that might be a good idea.”
So, after months of looking, you both say goodbye to your small apartments and are able to move into a beautiful townhouse in Queen Village. When Melissa files the paperwork to change her address for paychecks, Ava comes flying into the staff lounge with her eyes nearly bulging out of her head.
“Uh, ahem,” the principal coughs out and raises her brows, waving the paperwork in front of the second grade teacher during lunch.
“What?” your girlfriend grumbles as she grades a few papers and shoves a forkful of her salad into her mouth.
“Since when did you move?”
“A couple of weeks ago,” Melissa shrugs.
Barbara’s brows furrow. She wasn’t aware her friend was moving house. “Oh, Melissa. Could you not afford the place anymore?”
“Girl, she upgraded big time! Went from living in the slums to a three bedroom townhouse in Queen Village!”
“Queen Village?” the kindergarten teacher repeats.
Again, the redhead just shrugs.
“Melissa, how did you manage that? I know what you make, and there is no way you could afford to live somewhere like that!” Janine cuts in.
“Can it, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Let’s just say… I have my ways.”
Nobody is brave enough to ask the mob-like woman what the hell that could even mean.
“Well, when do we get to see the place?” Jacob tries to invite himself over.
Green eyes glare over at the man. “If I can help it, never.”
“Oh c’mon, Mel Mel,” Jacobs whines out. “I lived with you at one point! Why can’t we come see your new place?”
“At the time, I did not know it was you,” the redhead huffs. “And then you moved out on me.”
“Because I found 
The second grade teacher blows out a breath. “Maybe once I have it all furnished and put together.”
So, once the two of you have the place put together for the most part, the Abbott clan makes their way over while you’re out of town for a convention that you were forced to go to.
To say that the crew is beyond impressed is an understatement.
“Melissa, this is beautiful,” Barbara compliments.
“How? How?” is all Jacob and Janine can stutter out.
The redhead just smirks. “I know a guy.”
They leave not knowing that the guy that she knows is you- her girlfriend of almost two and a half years at this point. And because it’s you, and you have an unwavering love for Melissa, the house is impeccable and everything she could ever want it to. You take good care of her.
Since moving in together, Melissa’s meals have only become more extravagant. With both of your finances almost entirely combined at this point, you spoil her with the best foods and ingredients that you can get her at any moment. So when she comes into the staff room with way fancier dishes for her lunch, it raises a few eyebrows. The teachers have seen Melissa stretch a dollar like a big headed baby stretches a… the redhead smirks.
“I know a guy,” is all she offers up.
The eyebrows of her coworkers only creep further up her head when she comes in with leftovers from one of the nicest restaurants in the city- a place known nationally for the delicate dishes and absolutely delectable desserts.
She’s eating the extra slice of cheesecake the two of you had brought home when Janine leans over. “How’d you get that?”
“I know a guy.”
“You sure seem to know a lot of guys.”
They have no idea that there are not multiple people- you are almost singlehandedly responsible for the lavish lifestyle that your girlfriend suddenly leads. 
Somehow, Melissa is forced to go to one of the banquet dinners that the district is holding because she’s hit a milestone in her teaching, and they’re highlighting her. So, of course Barb offers to go with her to try to find something nice to wear to the dinner that she too will be attending.
“Oh, I think I actually have an outfit,” the redhead refutes the offer. “But thank you.”
“Girl, you never turn down an opportunity to go out shopping,” the kindergarten teacher raises a brow.
“I just… know a guy that already bought me an outfit.”
Melissa shows up to the event looking like a million bucks, and Barbara almost can’t believe it. The redhead’s hair is curled to perfection, the dress that she’s in has clearly been tailored to accentuate all of her curves and to be the proper length. The shoes that she’s wearing are not the black heeled boots Barbara is so used to seeing her work wife wear- no, instead she’s got on a pair of heels that have to be at least two hundred dollars if the kindergarten teacher had to guess. 
Of course, their picture gets snapped and is posted to the school website a few days later. 
At lunch, while Janine is eating and on her laptop, her eyes go wide. “Melissa!”
“What?”
“You looked beautiful the other night!”
“Thanks, kid.”
“How did you get all of that?”
“I know a guy.”
Jacob moves his chair so he too can get a look.
“Melissa, that is…” he thinks to himself quietly. “At least a six hundred dollar look! For a school event? Girl, where are you getting all of this stuff?!”
“I told youse, I know a guy.”
It’s a weekend when the Abbott crew decides to get together, and they all have plans to go to Barbara’s house for game night, but Gerald gets sick and they can no longer use the Howard residence.
“Well, I guess we should cancel,” Melissa sighs as they’re all leaving the school that day.
“What if we just came to your place?” the kindergarten teacher asks. “It’s the only other space big enough to accommodate us all.”
Begrudgingly, the second grade teacher agrees. As everyone is on their way over, she calls you.
“Hello?”
“Hey hun,” she says softly. “So… change in plans for tonight.”
“Oh? Do I get you all to myself tonight?”
“Not exactly…” the redhead trails off. “We’re moving game night to our house.”
“Oh,” you say softly, your face dropping as you thumb through papers in your office.
“Yeah,” she hums.
“I mean, I guess I can go out to dinner with my mom or something to pass the-”
“What if we just… came out? At least just to the crew,” your girlfriend suggests quietly.
You mull that option over for a few seconds. “Y-yeah. If you’re ready for that.”
“I am if you are.”
“I can pick up dinner,” you tell her. “I should be out of here by 5:30, and then I can head over to grab some food before coming home.”
“There’s…” she counts in her head. “eight of us.”
“Eight?”
“Somehow Mr. J wormed himself into this get together,” Melissa laughs softly. “Something about getting the band back together- whatever the hell that means. 
Once you’re free from work, you head over to one of the nicer restaurants in the city, and because you and Melissa have become frequent flyers there, they’re able to oblige your request for a few trays of food. You leave a generous tip before packing the food into your car and making your way back to your townhouse. 
Upon pulling in, you take a few deep breaths before gathering your briefcase and the food and making your way to the door.
When you push it open, all eyes are on you.
“Hey,” you sigh as you kick off your shoes and head for the kitchen table to put down all the food.
“Melissa, you didn’t tell us you have a roommate, never mind a hot one!” Ava grins.
The redhead just rolls her eyes before glaring. That glare is gone though once you make your way back into the living room and sit down next to your girlfriend.
“Hey babe,” you smile at her before kissing her cheek softly.
“Babe?” Barbara’s eyes go wide. “Melissa Ann, do you have a girlfriend?”
The redhead just smirks. “Oh, did I not mention that I am happily in a relationship and have been for two and a half years?”
“Wait a minute,” Mr. Johnson furrows his brows and looks you over. “Ain’t you one of those fancy lawyers that works at the firm down the street from Abbott?”
You nod. “Hi. I’m Y/N.” You cordially shake everybody’s hand with a kind smile.
“Wait,” Janine pieces it all together. “Is this why you moved and could afford this place? Why your meals have gotten a lot fancier, and how you could afford the clothes you wore to the dinner the other night?”
Melissa just nods. “I guess you could say… I won the lottery with this one.”
TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld
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tikosblogg · 8 months ago
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Best friends.
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Summary: y/n and Noah are bestfriends/house mates and y/n is an INNOCENT virgin, but she has been so horny for days, but can’t seem to satisfy the urge. So Noah offers his help.
Warning: guided masturbation, fingering, oral (f receiving), soft dom Noah, praise. Nothing crazy, actually kind of sweet, talk about growing up religious.
A/N: I’ve had this thought for DAYS. I finally decided to write it all out. Kind of short, sorry about that. Please enjoy!
“FUCK THIS” I groaned, pulling my hand out of underwear. I’ve been at this for an hour and half now. Nothing is working. My fingers, my brand new vibrator, porn. NOTHING is getting me off. Probably because I haven’t really done this before a week ago.
I am a 25 year old woman…and virgin. Now before you judge, it’s not all my fault. I grew up in a super religious family. Church every Monday, Wednesday, and Sunday. My parents were so extremely strict, I never had freedom. I was never able to do anything, or go anywhere. I never had friends, unless they were from church. Then there was the number one rule “NO BOYS.”
As soon as I turned 18, I fled that house. I went to college. I never went back. I don’t have a great relationship with my parents because of that. So as a result of growing up the way I did..even at college I didn’t really have the social skills to make friends, or meet any guys…
I just stuck to studying, and eventually graduated. Then I started working as a full time producers assistant. That’s how I met Noah. He was in the studio one week, working on some tracks. I was there the whole time. We talked a lot, got to know each other. We became great friends. I met the rest of the band, we got a long really well.
Now here we are 2 years later, I moved in with Noah and the guys. I ended becoming Noah’s personal assistant, and the rest is history. I groaned rolling over to check the time on my phone. 11:30pm. I sat up kicking my comforter off, and sliding out of my soaked panties making my way to the kitchen. The whole house was dark, and quiet.
The boys just got done with the tour, so all the guys went home to see their families. It’s just me, and Noah. He’s definitely passed out in bed by now. I padded across the cold tile, grabbing a cup from the cabinet. I filled it up with water, and hopped onto the kitchen island. I chugged the water down, placing the empty glass beside me. Dropping my face into my hands, I let out another sigh.
I couldn’t stop the tears of frustration from falling down my cheeks. I have all this pent up frustration that I can’t do anything about it. Probably because I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t know why I didn’t start trying to get to know myself sooner. Growing up the way I did, and then going without as long as I did…I just never had the urge.
Ever since I moved in with Noah, I’ve experienced all these different feelings. Im not blind, Noah is my best friend, but he’s hot. Probably the sexiest man to walk this earth. Like when he walks through the house without a shirt on? It feels like my entire body is on fire. When he calls me sweetheart? Instant butterflies. One time he hugged me, and his hands were just above the top of my ass and I almost lost my mind.
I continued to let silent tears escape, until a soft voice made me freeze. “Y/N?” My head shot up, looking towards the hallway. Noah stood there in his joggers, his hair a mess. He wore a concerned look on his face, as he walked over to me. “What’s going on sweetheart?” He cupped my cheeks in his hands, gently wiping my tears with his thumbs.
I shake my head, giving him a small smile. “It’s nothing. I’m fine, I promise.” There is no way I’m telling him. Oh you know, just can’t make myself cum. So I decided to come in here and cry about it. “You’re obviously not fine. Please, talk to me.” He spoke so softly. He readjusted to stand between my thighs. He was so close, I could feel my heart speed up, and my face flush. Quickly remembering I’m not wearing panties. Noah and I have always been able to be honest with each other, but this is humiliating.
He knows I’m a virgin, but the idea of telling him I can’t even get myself off is next level embarrassment. “Everything is okay. I’m just…” the words caught in my throat. One of his hands left my cheek, landing high up on my thigh. “Just what?..” His hand felt hot to the touch. I could feel my pussy throbbing. He has no idea what he does to me. God I really need to stop thinking about him this way. It doesn’t help when he’s this close to me.
I closed my eyes, letting out a soft sigh. Nuzzling deeper into his hand, I continued. “I’m just frustrated.” He lifted my face up towards his, sliding his hand up and down my thigh, in a comforting way. Only it didn’t feel too comforting. “Frustrated about wha-“ he stopped mid sentence, as I tried squeezing my thighs together only to be stopped by his body still standing between them.
I quickly squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment. His eyes moved from my thighs, back to my closed lids with a stern look. I was caught. He is about to laugh in my face, and walk out. I slowly opened my eyes, to Noah’s looking straight at me. They looked two shades darker. I decided to try and explain myself.
“I can’t….i tried to ..” I dropped my head in shame. I know I can trust him. I don’t know why this is so hard. He pulled me closer until my head was against his chest. “You tried to what?” His voice was just above a whisper, as he ran his fingers through the side of my hair. “I tried to..to touch myself and….” He nodded his head encouraging me to continue. “I’ve tried for a week straight, but it’s not working. I’m getting frustrated. I can’t take it anymore.”
I let out a quiet sob shoving my face deeper in his chest, wishing I could shrink myself so small I’d disappear. I realize I’m probably being very dramatic, but I just don’t care anymore at this point. I’m going insane. After a few seconds of silence, Noah finally pulled away bringing us face to face. He wiped the rest of my tears before softly speaking. “What have you tried?”
I shook my head between his hands with a soft laugh. “Everything Noah. My toys, my hands. Nothing is working.” He stood silently, still watching me. Clearly battling himself with what he was gonna say next. “Y/n…I can help you…I mean if you me to.” My eyes widened into saucers. Help me? He wants to help me get myself off?
He noticed the panic on my face, quickly speaking up. “Only if you’re comfortable with it. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. I just wanna help you.” Before I could even give it a second thought, my head was already nodding yes. He gave me a soft reassuring smile, before helping me off the counter. “C’mon we’ll go to your room so you’re comfortable.”
I grabbed his hand that he held out for me, and quietly followed him back to my room. When we walked in, he led me straight to my bed. He climbed onto it, and settled up against the headboard patting the spot between his thighs. I hesitated before finally crawling on to the bed, and situated myself in front of him. He pulled me back against his chest, before placing my legs over each of his. Spreading mine apart as far as they could go.
“Okay, just relax. Show me what you’ve been doing.” His hushed voice was right by my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He reached around me, slowly pulling my shirt up. I felt his breath hitch when he realized I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I nodded my head, reaching down to play with my clit. After a few minutes some soft moans left my lips, but I still wasn’t getting anywhere with it.
I huffed, pulling my fingers away. “I can’t Noah…it doesn’t feel right.” He ran his hands down my thighs, putting his lips to shell of my ear. “You gotta focus on the feeling sweetheart.” I groaned at his gruff voice right in my ear. His hand was creeping closer, and closer to my soaked pussy. I bucked my hips up slightly, to finally get his fingers where I needed them most. But he kept them still.
I’m losing my patience, and I don’t care anymore. I need him to touch me. “You have to be turned on enough before touch yourself baby.” Baby….that did it. I finally grabbed his hand, sliding it a half an inch over to finally touch my poor neglected clit. “Please Noah…just please touch me…please make me cum.” I was a whining mess.
He groaned, when his fingers met my soaked cunt. “Fuck baby, you’re so fucking desperate for it huh?” I quickly nodded, letting out the most feral moan as he finally sunk a finger into me. “Oh my god Noah..” he pumped his finger a few more times, pulling out to softly rub my clit with the wetness leaking out of me. “You’re so fucking wet sweetgirl…what made you like this?”
He asked rubbing my clit with a little more pressure. I threw my head back onto his shoulder before moaning out. “You..fuck Noah you did.” He placed soft kisses against my neck, now shoving two fingers inside my pussy. “Yeah baby?” I whined at the slight stretch. I’ve never felt so good. He pumped them deep, crooking his fingers up, causing me to buck my hips at the amazing new feeling.
“You like when I do that baby?” He asked, doing it faster. I moaned nodding my head, not being able to get any words out. I jumped when a smack landed on the inside of my thigh. “Use your words y/n.” I let out a breathy yes, as his other hand joined in rubbing my clit. “Oh fuck Noah please, don’t stop.” He pumped his fingers faster, while rubbing my clit, making me see stars.
“C’mon baby cum for me. Cum on my fingers.” That’s all it took, before I was screaming his name finally reaching my orgasm. His hand left my clit, before grabbing my jaw, and bringing my lips to his. We shared a heated, messy kiss while his fingers continued fucking me through my high. “Fuck you’re such a good girl y/n.”
He finally slid his fingers out of me, placing one more gentle kiss against my lips. “Fuck….thank you Noah.” He smiled, before shoving his fingers into his mouth. I watched in pure shock. That had to be the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed. “You taste so sweet baby.” He gently pushed me forward, before turning me around shoving me down on my back.
“Noah what are you doing?” He hovered above me, before sliding down until he was face to face with my pussy. “You said you’ve been trying for a week…you can give me one more right?” I was speechless. He wants to eat me out? All I could do was nod my head, as he slowly lowered down until his tongue was on my now sensitive clit. “Oh fuck!” My hands went straight to hair, tugging it. He groaned against me, sending vibrations through my core.
He swirled his tongue in quick circles around my clit, before shoving it as deep inside me as he could fucking me with it. I bucked my hips, quite literally riding his face. He pulled it away, licking from my hole, back up to my clit. “Fuck Noah I’m gonna cum.” He pulled away replacing his tongue with his thumb, rubbing in achingly slow circles.
“Yeah? Are you gonna be good girl, and cum on my tongue this time?” I whined, nodding my head pulling his face back to my pussy. He ate me like a starved man, until I was coming apart for the second time tonight on his tongue. He pulled away, slumping down onto the bed beside me. We sat quietly, both breathing heavily. I looked over at Noah, and we both had goofy smiles on our faces.
I couldn’t help but notice the large bulge in his pants. Maybe I could learn another thing or two before the nights over, what are best friends for….right?
Part 2????
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careyakane · 1 month ago
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Happy birthday, June Bug.
Fourteen minutes until your twenty-third. This time last year, I held you close on that couch up in Washington. The atlas, the snowstorm—hell, you even got me into a church, and the music was wonderful.
It was a beautiful time back then, the first time I felt comfortable with you, and for a moment, I forgot all the life we had waiting for us, I even forget her. I just let myself care for you. I’m not sure the feeling ever came back in all its strength after Washington, and for that, I really am sorry.
Now, just a year later, you have someone new (not that I ever let you call me yours), and I am driving back across the country west. I have someone I care for too, but she is like I was—unsure and teetering, like those wooden contraptions we had in the park growing up. Her weight is always shifting back and forth, and my resolve, while strong, is light as the wind and keeps getting tossed up and down carelessly.
Anyways… I’m glad you have Nick. I say I hate him, but I don’t. I guess I just grew protective over you and felt some unwarranted ownership that I, of course, don’t truly believe. You are your own. I was in grief; I was afraid. You were also pretty damn cruel from time to time, and with the world being the way it is already, I wanted someone a little kinder is all.
But yet tonight, I feel sadness for something I know I do not want. I love you dearly, and God, what a union we had, traversing this country through greenrooms and cafés. Well I should stop, I’m falling into places of the mind that keep me in my old ways. Best to just let you be.
Happy birthday my friend, and please kiss the mr for me. I’ll see you Monday.
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blingblong55 · 1 year ago
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Dear Father -John Price x F!Reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley NSFW
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A/N: If you're super religions and/or catholic...look away
Based on a request:
I am too sinning on this app so Ik that it isn't part of the list but what about a priest au? price and ghost having a threesome with a nun or sister (yk what I mean) its all innocent at first she helps around during mass and since both men cant break celibacy they try and stop the 'sinful' thoughts of sister/nun y/n one time they saw her curves and from then on after talking w the other they decided to corner her and fuck her ____ F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, dub-con, hierophilia, threesome, priest!Price, priest!Ghost, spit roast, some degrading, nun/sister!reader unprotected!sex, oral!sex, P-in-V, priest au, nun/sister au ____
A/N: personally, I love the idea of getting fucked by a priest...especially by these two. Also inspired by many of the band Ghost songs
You walked the halls of the holy temple, rosemary in hand as you made your way to mass. "Sister," Father John greeted. "Hello Father, having a great evening?" You and him walk the hall together. "It has been a delightful one, sister. And how is your evening this fine day?" The Bible by his hand. "Oh mine has been pleasant," you smile a little. "Have you spoken with Father Simon?" You nod, "I have, he seems excited for this evening, I heard we will have a larger group this holy day." You comment. As you walk inside you see the children help set up the mantle on the altar, the bible and wine carefully set up as well. You sit in one of the chairs by the altar, Father Simon comes out to make sure the temple looks well for when the townspeople arrive. "Ah..sister R/N, how are you today?" the holy man spoke. "I'm fine father, and yourself?"
"Couldn't be happier, now remember sister, you must make sure not to let that little head of yours get lost when I give the sermon." He pats your head and makes his merry way upstairs where he changes into his attire. You walk towards the door, helping the townspeople in, all in their best attire for this day. The sign of the cross is all done by them as they walk into the temple. The rosemary in hand as mass began. You sat neatly by the altar, praying and listening to Simon. He gave a couple of jokes to the people attending, much of which people laughed. It was communion when you were in line and his finger touched your lip, and you opened it. "The body of Christ," the way he said it, so alluring to the thoughts you once had as a young woman of the church. "Amen," you respond and eat the bread. You go back to your seat and pray.
After mass, all the people left, the cleaning crew and townspeople, it was just Father John and Simon with you. You stayed on your knees, praying for all the people that attended. In the candle-lit room, the two priests joining you. Kneeling beside you and letting you stay between them. They held your hand, praying with you. Once it was over, they returned to their room. "Amen," you whisper and try and forget about the sinful thoughts both priests gave you. You walked back to your room until you heard some moans. It had to be some of the people you let sleep for shelter but as you were about to knock on the door of Father Price, Simon walked into the hallway. "Sister?" his voice like a whisper. "Father, I think I heard a noise-"
"Go to bed, R/N, we'll discuss this in the morning, good night," he walked back into his room and as you walked past Father John's room, the moans continued. Could he be sick? No, that can't be, he is a very healthy man. Once in your room, you prayed and got into your nightgown. By morning, you walked the halls again and made sure the kitchen and offices were clean and ready for the day. It was a Monday, meaning a few people would show up to confess. "Father John will do confessionals today," you informed. People of all backgrounds nodded in delight, ready to have their sins forgiven.
By the evening, you were approached by Simon. "Are you confessing today?" an innocent question with ulterior motives. "Yes, father." A simple and short response, one that began the entire evening. As the doors to the public closed and you walked into the confessional booth, you sat down. "What are your sins, child," Johns's voice so soft. A confession that was meant to stay in between the walls. "I've been having unholy thoughts," your voice so small and full of embarrassment. "About what or who, child?" He knew who this was, and an excited smirk appeared on his face. "About the priests in this church, I don't know how it got to this point, I'm sorry, Father." You look down, the rosemary on your hands, playing with the beads out of nerves. He knew what the evening had planned for the three of them.
"On your knees child, pray to be forgiven." Words that would later be repeated during the night. You did so, prayed and prayed, hoping for forgiveness. To break celibacy, something the church penalised their holy men. The oath to be devoted to the man up above was now broken to worship the temptress that roamed the halls, dressed as a holy woman. A succubus that knew she was their weakness, clothed in holy clothes, to be undressed and fucked like the whore she is and wants to be.
You in Simon's ear, crying and confessing to him too. "I'm sorry Father, I know this is wrong, I'm sorry I didn't mean to think of this." He shakes his head, a lying motion to be proven soon. John walks in, holy water in a bowl in his hand, rosemary on the other. He and Simon look at each other, their plan to work. "Get on your knees and beg for forgiveness," Simon demands. Your teary eyes are now filled with confusion but you don't question this, you get on your knees, and begin to pray until he stops you. Thumb under your chin, making you look up. "Not like that, sister, open your mouth, be a good girl," John says. You open your mouth, and a sense of newfound arousal finds its way to you. If the heavens spoke, this would be the beginning of a long overdue sin. Two priests, three sinners and a saint, all in one room, ready to corrupt the one thing that began to crack under the very same roof they spoke holy words. Both men spit in your mouth, "Swallow," Simon commands this time and you nod. Their zippers undone, their hair pulled, their cocks ready to be pleased by the mouth of a saint.
Your mouth and body are about to become their temple. John is the first to begin to stroke his cock in front of your face. Simon followed right after. Worshipping the very thing they had sworn to never do, a woman and the sexual desire they so have needed. Let me have you, the devils spoke in a whisper. Your mouth being teased by John's tip, all red and swollen, letting the innocent nun look up with such a good girl stare, it melted their hearts. "Suck on it," he tells you, your lips wrapped around his thick shaft. His hand is on your hair, pushing your head further in. You gag and cry, trying to hold in all the noise the room could not listen to. Simon can't take it any longer. "Pray for us, R/N," the young priest says. A prayer that will send you three over the edge on a bed made for one holy man. Simon pulled you away from John, placing you on the bed on all fours, Simon massaging your ass before taking your clothes off. The a need to have this, already leaving your panties soaked. It was true what they said, to worship is to be devoted and in this moment, they are devoted to your body and you to theirs.
You mewl when you feel Simon slap your now bare ass, your shirt ripped from you as John teases your face with kisses. Your tits slapped before he cups your face with aggression, "You're nothing but a fucking slut, you know that, R/N?" Before you could even respond he slaps your face and smirks. Simon's thick and veiny cock, blessed your walls, and as your cunt was already dripping from just the thought of getting fucked he chuckled. "Our little nun here seems to be eager for this," he tells John. The moans you let out as he hungrily fucked himself into you, were too sinful for such holy men to listen to. It was food in ways no one could understand. John's cock in your mouth, your throat trying its best to accommodate a man his size. Their trousers on the floor, your body the temple for such noises and sins. Your cunt spread open for Simon's size.
You begin to let out whimpers, something so small that you get punished for your pleasure is not of importance in this Your body, like it was possessed by fools gold, making these hungry men fight for every part of it. Their breathing is heavy as your body gets used over and over again. "Just like that, fucking take it," Simon stuttered as he has found pleasure he was forbidden to feel. John touched your body only when the holy water was on his hands as if he were to burn if he didn't touch the water before touching the devil herself. "You're nothing but a slut, aren't you, hm…say it…say it you bitch," John slapped your face and pulled his cock out to let you breathe. Between heavy panting, you responded, "I'm…a slut, Father." Your voice is hoarse, barely above a loud whisper.
"That's fucking right," he forces your mouth open and spits on it again. His cock back in your mouth that thins at his size. Simon can't help but slap your ass, wanting to mark it as his. If this was how you received forgiveness, then the more sins you must commit. The devil grins this night, for he has made this night turn from holy to his own little game. To taunt all believers and worshippers. It was a night of ritual, one to commence when all-powerful and mythical mysteries went to roam the earth. Some call it adultery, some call it fun. You played with black magic, getting daddied by men who were never dad. Giving you things you never once had. Simon's cock twitching, begging for release. You kept swallowing the pre-cum that leaked from Johns cock. John's breathing escapes in short ones, not being able to contain his orgasm for any longer. You know he is close, his cock twitches and you can feel how it is pulsating in your mouth.
He groans, head thrown back as he fills your mouth with his cum. His movements were desperate, your face flushed as he held you in place. Simon let his cock sink into your greedy body, his hands holding you as in his head, he too asked for forgivenes. Your walls clench around Simon, your breathing getting heavier. And although it was never intended, he knew that with each thrust he was getting you closer to heaven as well. John pulls out, forces you to swallow his cum and he grins when your mascara stained face looks up at him as his mate continues to fuck you. "You like that, don't you?" he whispers and kisses you as he bends. His face cupping yours. Wet kisses and groans filled the room. No longer sacred by definition.
Simon filled you with his sticky seed, his groans turned to moans when he felt your cunt pulsating, your walls milking him for all he is worth. It was perfect, he turned you into his personal fleshlight. You let out whimpers as he pulls out, your cunt abused and leaking the seed of a holy man. What a great use for a whore that desguises herself as a nun. You clit sensitive, the men laid you on your back and between them. A secret amongst three people, to be repeated but never spoken of. A sin that will carry for as long as time. The holy water John brought it, used to clean your sweat, tears and the cum that displayed on your body. The rosemary, used to hang from your neck as they kissed it all night long. Two priests, three sinners and one former saint, a corruption well done.
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Tags: @ghostslillady @mothcelestial @greatstormcat @pippylaune @liyanahelena @anonymuslydumb @kit-kats06 @quaritchscupquake @lisa-takeshi @ash-tarte @arithestrawberry @agent-oaklahoma @murarl @downbadformaskedmen @iamnotfinedaddy @woncloudie @lilahbunny
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blueishspace · 3 months ago
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Hero, Villain God 21
(Prev) (Next) (First)
Hotguydaily @/HGupdates
Hero HotGuy will no longer be fighting crime alone, in a surprise message earlier today the hero association has revealed that he has already chosen who will be his sidekick henceforth.
💬44 ❤️76K 🔄368
| Hotguydailydaily @HGupdates^2 Hotguy daily has revealed that Hotguy has chosen his sidekick. || Lmao @/Lm40xd What is this weird ass Inception going on?
|Showon @/Icansh0wyu I can't believe we got Hotguy a sidekick before GTA 6. ||Prtrtrt @/prtrtrtr6 Shut the fuck up. |||Showwon @/Icansh0wyu No <3
Sheriff ☑️ @/Canarywthagun
I can't tell you guys too much but I know Hotguy's new sidekick and I'm very excited.
💬21K ❤️8M 🔄945K
|Tdfyh @/randombullshitgo Oh come on! You can't just say that and nothing else! Not fair! ||Sheriff ☑️ @/Canarywthagun Life is not fair. |||OceanQueen ☑️ @/AnarmyofAxolotls Sheriff, do I need to take away your phone priviliges? ||||Sheriff ☑️ @/Canarywthagun Wait no, you can't do that. |||||OceanQueen ☑️ @/AnarmyofAxolotls Life isn't fair. ||||||Tdfyh @/randombullshitgo What the fuck just happened?
|Sausage☑️ @/blessedbythesaint. Are they hot? ||What. @/askingteliling23 Don't you have anything else to do????? Like being the leader of a major religion? |||Sausage☑️ @/blessedbythesaint Right! Join the church of Sanctuary today and you'll get two cookies for free. ||||What. @/askingteliling23 You can't possibly be serious...right? ...right? ||||Sausage☑️ @/blessedbythesaint Join right now and you'll get three?
Pix ☑️@ThisweekinHtopia.
This week in Hermmittopia the mayor has been kidnapped by a mysterious hacker or possibly a supervillain, he has been rescued by Hotguy but no official statements have yet been made by the authorities... (1/5)
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|Showon @/Icansh0wyu Will you guys of today in Hermmittopia be at the official introduction. ||Pix ☑️@ThisweekinHtopia Of course, expect snippets of it!
*Scar's pov*
Cub has been staring at the screen for a worrying amount of time ...you kinda have to ask at this point.
"Did ...uh...did the public react well?"
...
"Yes"
"Oh. Oh! I was starting to get worried."
"It's still too early to be sure though, he hasn't even been officially introduced."
"Well... Yeah, you're right Cub."
"I always am."
A few more moments of silence before Cub is talking to you again.
"So has he chosen a name yet?"
Uh? Oh, he means Grian! Right.
"Oh yeah, he chose to go by Cuteguy"
...you hear a sigh.
"... Well, at least it fits the branding."
The official intriduction is going to be really soon so you feel you are allowed to be a little bit anxious. You get a sidekick! The first ever sidekick in Hermmittopia! Everything has to be perfect.
"Has the commission picked a date then?"
"They did"
"Uh?? When?"
"Just now really. Calm down Scar"
That's not what you wanted to know- oh he's doing it on purpose isn't he?
"How much time do we have?"
You could work with a month, better to hope for two though even if It's unlikely-
"It's next monday"
... WHAT
"That's just ten days!"
"Yep"
...
"Fuck"
End of Chapter 5
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freaky-wasatch-range · 9 months ago
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hey, tumblrstake! I've seen several posts on here about how we wished mormons had more cultural traditions/holidays, so I want to share with y'all my family's memorial day tradition.
every year, about 300+ of my extended family gather in the podunk town of oak city, utah to take over the town hall for the weekend and then serve free breakfast to the town on monday morning. it's called the "edward partridge memorial day breakfast" or 'MDB" for short.
edward partridge immigrated to the U.S. from great britain and was the first ordained bishop of the church. he is my great-great-great-great-great grandfather. edward partridge's grandson, aesel lyman, started the breakfast, declaring that the tradition would continue until edward partridge came and got breakfast himself. today marked the 52nd annual MDB, and this year, we fed 1069 people.
the customary breakfast is: sourdough pancakes (they're really freaking good and the batter is hand-stirred by an army of little kids), fried eggs, fried ham, oak city milk, and an orange juice called Tang. that same army of little kids get the honor of "running" food from the griddles in the town hall's back courtyard to the gym where we serve the breakfast, and of course most of the adults are given a job to do as well (cooking, serving, hospitality, utensil rolling, the most recent newlyweds get to rinse the empty batter buckets with a hose... you get the gist). members of the fam bring their plates straight to the griddles when we want to eat. we all wear special aprons. the atmosphere is always kind of electric :)
the night before, we have a thing called "the program" where we watch the same grandparent-originated skits and sing the same favorites-of-our-grandparents songs that we've been performing for decades.
some other traditions that have endured at the mdb: games of P-I-G (kind of like H-O-R-S-E), a couple hundred people playing bunco at the same time, blasting louis armstrong during the breakfast, a baseball game for the kids, red velvet cake, older kids teaching younger kids to throw mountains of playground-gravel down the slides (I was little when that started and it's been going on for over a decade now lol), and, of course, visiting the oak city cemetery and telling stories about our grandparents.
I'm really blessed that on memorial day I get to spiritually honor my five generations of grandparents buried in oak city instead of just making vague allusions of thanks to the military industrial complex. most white americans have been completely isolated from any kind of ancestral culture/specific traditions (because that's what racist assimilationism demands), so I find our weird and sometimes difficult annual reunion to be really special. whatever this is is mormon culture to me.
so, idk, hopefully this was inspiring and gave you a new way to think about memorial day. I hope that wherever I am in the world, I can continue this tradition with the friends and family I have around, serve a community with free food, and do it in honor of some modern pioneers and martyrs.
here's some photos of my dinosaur, jared, wearing my keffiyeh and hanging out in oak city over the weekend:
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capseycartwright · 9 months ago
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was tagged by @mellaithwen @littlespoonevan in seven sentence sunday yesterday but i am posting late so this is. many sentence monday.
Hey, God, it’s me, Eddie.
Eddie couldn’t help but giggle to himself as he thought the words. If he couldn’t be a bit silly while having a sexuality crisis in a Catholic church – when could he?
I hope you don’t mind that I’m sitting in your house thinking gay thoughts.
Not like –
Not sexual gay thoughts. Existential gay thoughts.
Eddie huffed, rolling his eyes at himself. Existential gay thoughts. He was a disaster.
I don’t know who else to ask about this.
Should I confess? Should I find the priest after mass, and should I confess – to being an abomination? Do you still use that word when you talk about queer people?
I don’t know if I am – a queer person, I mean. I think I am.
I don’t know what I am.
But I need help.
Eddie was getting help. He was. He had therapy, and support group, and he trained Muay Thai with Tommy, whenever their schedules matched up, and Buck was forcing him to come along on his runs (“Because exercise is good for your mental health, Eddie,” Buck had huffed, red in the face as he dragged Eddie along a dusty trail), and Eddie was trying to see people. He’d had lunch with Linda, a few days previously, and she’d sent him home with five Tupperware’s of homemade food and a kiss on the cheek.
He was getting help.
Just – not for this.
“Go in peace, to love, and serve the Lord,” the priest concluded, and Eddie stood, as the organ began, familiar music filling the church.
tagging @thatbuddie @clusterbuck @doeeyeseddie @hattalove @sibylsleaves @devirnis @bibuddie and anyone else who would like to share some fic this morning!
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violettaskies · 2 years ago
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To Share A Kiss The Devil Has Known
(ch. 2)
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: thank you for all the support on the first part! there is one more chapter after this one (three in total) // 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 // honestly, you can just read this without reading the first ch lol but that would help with tiny details!
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 // please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!
ao3 // chapter one // chapter three // masterlist // series masterlist
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-:-:-:-:-
To say Eddie was ecstatic as he drove to your home, is an understatement. He had driven you there countless times after school or the rare late-night tutoring sessions, but he has never gone inside. There was never a reason to. Especially since you both were often only together during school hours and only meeting each other during weekends on the rare occasion you didn’t have a church obligation. 
How he longed to enter the holy house he passed by every few nights to see if you were still awake late into the evening after he finished band rehearsal. Eddie wondered what it is that you did when the light was on, but your shadow was nowhere near the desk next to the bedroom window. 
Little did he know, today was the day he would find out. 
“You seem a little too excited to work on an English project, Eddie,” you said once you noticed that you weren’t the only one in the car who was jittering in their seat. 
“Oh, I’m dreading the work, believe me,” he chuckled. “What I am excited for is the fact that I’m going into your sanctuary for the first time. Now I can find out your dirty little secrets.”
The raspiness in his both scared and excited you. “Hm?” You looked at him for the first time with wide eyes and a shaky voice. 
“Does this mean we get to go into your room too?” Eddie teased. 
“My room? N-no, we can’t go in there.” Inviting the muse of your sins into your home was one thing, going into your room would only make you feel God’s wrath ten-fold. 
“Oooh, she is hiding something, isn’t she?” Eddie wound you up again, keeping one hand on the steering wheel while the other tried to tickle your leg — you backed away again. 
You ignored his teasing, speaking to him in a barely audible whisper: “we’ll work in the basement where my father’s study is. He won’t be using it today since it’s Monday and it’s his day off.”
“Will you tell me what’s bothering you before we head in?” The Dealer said with a pout as he parked in your driveway. “Was it something a person did? Something I did?” If his perverted ways were caught, he wanted to find out now. “You promised you’d tell me, you never break your promises.”
The guilt was eating you up now. Lying, sinning, breaking commandments, and now you’re on the path to breaking promises. If you were alone right now, you would cry; instead, one tear escaped your eyes. 
“I promise, it’s nothing,” the lie came easily this time. “Let’s head inside, please, Eddie.” 
“Alright,” he didn’t want to admit just how beautiful you looked while you cried. 
Once Eddie had opened the passenger for you and let you lead the way into the house, both of your hearts were beating quickly. It became clear that the two of you were nervous about one thing or another – but, there was one consistent anxious thought: your parents were home. 
As you attempted to unlock the front door with shaky hands, the keys rattling a bit louder than what a normal person would be doing, Eddie whispered in your ear.
“I’ll be on my best behaviour, no need to worry,” his voice was husky, resonating through your body with every syllable, and his hot breath on your skin since he pushed your hair to the side without you noticing. It was hard to recognize things with everything going on in your head; so much so, that you didn’t get the opportunity to twist the lock correctly as you turned your head quickly to face him. 
Just then, the door opened, key still in the hole and your hand on the handle — leading you to trip slightly at the door frame. “Darling, you’re home early,” your mother’s sweet, but very confused, voice greeted you at the entrance. 
“Sorry I called earlier saying I would be home late, but then the library was full so we couldn’t work there,” you said meekly whilst taking a step away from Eddie to rid your figures of the compromising position you were just in. 
“Come inside, and tell me who your friend is,” the sheer nervousness in her voice was comedic. Your mother knew exactly who this was. Why you allowed him into this Catholic home, she’ll never understand. 
“W-well this is Eddie, he’s the one whose locker is right next to mine,” you stated, looking over at the boy who was nervous in front of you for the first time in your friendship. He must have felt you glance over at him, since Eddie tilted his head up to mouth: ‘you talk about me?’ before winking in your direction. The smiles that appeared on both of your nervous faces went away quickly. 
A loud cough shocked you, making you two break eye contact, and jump slightly at the sound as you were taking your shoes off. “Munson?”
“Yes, sir.” There were times Eddie hated his last name when older people used it — since they would automatically think of his father. 
“What are you doing in my house?” The anger in your own father’s voice was frightening. Yes, he told you to stay away from Eddie. But Eddie was always nice to you, always sweet and caring; never did you see him commit sins in front of you, so you thought. 
“We were assigned on a project together,” you cut off your own conflicted thoughts. “It’s due Wednesday. However, tomorrow we’re both busy so we wanted to finish it tonight,” the leg-bouncing came back again. “May we please use the basement, dad? You have lots of books in there we could—"
“No,” there was a fire in your father’s eyes that intensified your freight as he began a staredown with your project partner. The man was mad — the first time his daughter brought a friend home and it’s a boy, Eddie Munson for that matter. The boy was known around town for committing the sinful acts of the Devil. Now you’re asking to spend the entire night with him, alone in a dark room? Over his dead body.  
Your mother came to the rescue to ease the tension, “of course you can, I’ll even bring down snacks, and dinner too, since we were planning on ordering take-out tonight anyways.” She looked over at your father with threatening eyes, trying to make him notice that his daughter was on the verge of tears in front of a guest.
“That’s alright, I can take care of—”
“Oh, she’ll be taking care of me alright,” Eddie said in your father’s direction with a sinister smirk, then looked to your mother sweetly. “But, I don’t mean to intrude. I can grab dinner on my way home.”
“Nonsense, you two head downstairs and I’ll bring some water and the strawberries that were new at the store today.”
Eddie couldn’t help but notice the sweet similarities between you and your mother. On the other hand, he really loved pissing off your dad — if all the old man could see was the spawn of Satan, then Eddie was going to give it to him.
“Thank you, ma’am. Now, why don’t you lead the way, Angel?” he said while casually placing a hand on your shoulder, then leading a trail to your neck to loop his fingers through your silver chain. Eddie made sure that he glanced in your father’s direction, when you slightly whimpered at the tug and looked up at the long-haired man. 
“S-sure, it’s this way. See you guys later then,” you were a stuttering mess, trying to speak to your parents while guiding Eddie through your house. 
The only thing you hoped was that once you were alone with Eddie again, your mind would focus on the work; not the intensifying feeling of guilt which made your heart and legs ache. 
-:-:-:-:-
Once the backpacks were on the floor next to the sofa, the contents of your pencil case spread out on the large table your father had in the basement, and a lined sheet of paper with a brainstorm of scratches all over it — the project was well on its way to be completed. At first, since Eddie barely cracked the book open, you two needed to read the assigned chapter. He mentioned that he wouldn’t be able to focus unless you took turns reading it aloud, so that’s what you did. At one point, your mother came down and set some fruit on the coffee table, where you would take a bite of a strawberry whenever you were not reading a page — Eddie did the same thing. 
In truth, he was barely listening to the story, only staring at how your lips became more plump and pink as each paragraph was read. The Dealer hoped that you wouldn’t notice how he inches closer to you on the couch slowly. So that by the time the final page was finished, your knees were touching. 
“Such a pretty voice,” Eddie teased when you stopped reading, nearly whispering it in your ear. Now you started to tense up again. 
“Yours is nicer, I guess it’s because of all your Dungeons & Dragons games,” you awkwardly giggle whilst moving to the left. 
“Maybe you should play one day, but I don’t think you want more of the Devil inside of you,” he chuckled to himself, not realizing how the words made your heart drop. 
“W-what do you mean by that?” your eyes went wide with guilt as you responded. 
“Oh, you know,” Eddie elongated the final syllable momentarily. “I can tell you’re keeping secrets from me. You said it was nothing someone else or I did that’s bothering you. That must mean it’s something you did, huh?” 
His curiousity was always something you enjoyed, it led to your imagination to grow in return. But now, this tendency of his was only making you more nervous if he found out what you did.
You wouldn’t be his good girl anymore.
“We should work on the project now,” you said sternly, ignoring his question. 
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He flashed his signature smile and wink, then stretched his body from the couch. Then with a tap to your shoulder, you followed him to the large table. 
After three hours, the report itself was done. Mainly you did the majority of the analysis while you asked Eddie what he thought about your points. Luckily, his creativity ran wild so you could just build on what he would say to make his profound words sound professional. Then, as you two were grabbing construction paper and poster board from your mother’s craft stash in the basement, she came down to give you both a simple take-out container of Chinese food. 
Truly, she had been checking up on you two every half-hour. Even going as far as taking you to the side to whisper: “don’t do anything unjust or sinful with that boy. He has a reputation and your father is just beside himself with fear as to what the Munson-child will do to you.” Although she had been the polite host to Eddie, she was always the Catholic housewife who cared more about people’s virtue than anything else. 
Not that your mother had anything to worry about tonight. Thus far, you were so focused on the task at hand that you barely had any unsavoury thoughts about your friend. Like how when Eddie would put his chin on your shoulder as you wrote down what he would say in your ear, making sure that he rubbed your back as he was doing so. You didn’t recognize that whenever you responded to him with a ‘yeah,’ it came out in a whimper sometimes. Even when The Dealer had gone on a tangent explaining something, and he flailed his arms in the air, only to land them on the table — leaning forward and stared intensely into your eyes; you barely noticed how your thighs squeezed together at the tingling feeling between. 
But Eddie noticed, he noticed everything and was loving it. He knew that the project would take your mind off of what was bothering you, so he went back to his regularly scheduled programming. This time though, instead of your sweet smiles and giggles to his antics — you were biting your lip, crossing your legs tightly, and blushing while you laughed. As you two ate dinner at the coffee table while sitting on the floor, Eddie couldn’t help but glance down at the skin of your thighs peaking through the bottom of your skirt; especially how you didn’t fix it like you usually do. Something really was going on with you today. 
“Do you wanna play some music while we work on the presentation part? What type of music does your dad have in here anyways?” Eddie asked while eyeing you suspiciously and eating an egg roll. He was going to try and make you talk about something other than school for the first time in four hours. 
“A lot of gospel music.”
“Seriously?” He looked at you with wide eyes and an even wider smile of disbelief. 
“Yes, he likes listening to that type of stuff, I do too,” you said defensively.
The man walks up to your father’s record player and the shelf of records that are lined up behind it. You were right. “Not even The Beatles or The Rolling Stones? Your old man probably has something.” 
“I’ve never heard him listen to that before. Your uncle has them though, right? We listened to them when I tutored you last year. Those songs were really nice to listen to.” You stood next to him and as he graced his fingers on the spines of the cardboard cases. 
“That’s right, my smart girl.” Eddie groaned and chose one of the records that mentioned it was only instrumentals. It would be better than nothing, so he gave it to you to start playing. “We should put this on, because I’m sure that any of this Christian music will make me burn up,” he emphasized his words by pretending to be burned with holy water, like in the movies. “I’m a sinner, baby,” he chokes out. 
He was just joking around, you knew that. But you stood there with the record in your hand, frozen in place for a moment, before quietly saying: “I think we should finish up this presentation, Eddie.” Then passed the vinyl back to him to input in the record player. You quickly walked to the large table with your silver crucifix between your fingers, while Eddie stood with gears turning in his head. 
That was it. 
Just from mentioning the word ‘sin’ and you were shaking with a fear he has never seen from you since that one time Eddie showed you his tattoo of a demon. Only this time, your fear looked like it traumatized you. 
What could have happened to make you feel this way? Did you sin and your Catholic guilt was eating you up? — the questions plagued his mind as he went over to your fidgeting figure sitting at the work table again. 
-:-:-:-:-
It was nearly eleven o’clock when Eddie and yourself were almost done with the presentation. Whichever teacher in the staff room thought that this project could be done in two days was probably delusional. It took you two almost nine hours to do the bare minimum. Alas, as you and Eddie stood at the table, adding paint and construction paper to the biggest piece of poster board your mom hoarded, it was close to the finish line. While there were instances where your guilt would reappear more often now than before dinner — your mind was still focused on the project.
That was until your father’s voice echoed through the basement’s halls for the first time tonight. He stood at the stairs, still being able to see you and Eddie nearly climbing the table to finish the poster. Still, there was fire in his eyes. 
“Are you two almost finished, yet? It’s pretty late and you both have school in the morning,” he said sternly, but only staring down the young Munson. 
“Almost, dad, we just need to wait for this to dry up and practice the presentation with it,” your voice was quiet as your eyes went from your father’s crossed arms to Eddie’s sinister smile. 
“When will you be going home, Munson?” 
“Oh I don't know, whenever she finishes,” he knew that your father understood the innuendo; however, you stood there tilting your head in confusion. 
Your father scoffs loudly before giving Eddie one last threatening look, then turns to you. “Wrap it up whenever you can. I’m heading to bed, but your mother will be upstairs, so no dilly dallying.” You’re pretty sure that comment was meant for the boy standing with horrible posture next to you, but it still registered as a threat in your head.
“Goodnight, dad,” you nodded, looking up at him with big eyes as he began to walk up the stairs. But, a slightly taunting voice made your father stop in his tracks. 
“Sweet dreams, we’ll be having lots of fun down here,” Eddie said with his smile getting wider with each word. You thought he was just trying to make your father laugh a bit before leaving — with a sarcastic tone towards the school project. But it looks like the scoff your father made, indicated that it didn’t go through; in actuality, your father could see the new innuendo the young man was doing, but decided not to be the overbearing father for once. 
As his steps became fainter, you looked towards Eddie who was now putting a cigarette in his mouth, “what did you mean? When you said, ‘whenever she finishes.’?” you asked. He tried his best not to let his lips curl upwards at his joy of seeing you so innocent to the sexual joke.
“U-uhh nothing.” 
“Good, because. I’m not doing all this work all on my own, we’ve been doing this as partners this whole time. Let’s finish together.” The amount of times he has imagined your voice saying those last three words in his ears was unfathomable — he would memorize this snippet for the rest of his life. Eddie was so enthralled by your words that he didn’t notice that you took the cigarette out of his mouth and was speaking to him again. “You can’t smoke that in here.”
“Your old man smokes.” 
“That’s different, he only smokes cigars and they smell nicer.”
“Tell me where they are and I’ll have my first one tonight,” he winked at you with a smile. 
In an instant, he took the stick back from your fingers and placed it between his lips again. “Eddie, I don’t want you getting in trouble,” you sighed in defeat. “Do you promise to finish the title on the poster while I write up the script on cards, if I let you finish that one cigarette?”
“You could always share it with me so I can finish it faster,” he teased. “Or do you not want to give in to the Devil’s temptation again?”
“A-again?” you stuttered.
Eddie stayed silent for a moment, lighting his cigarette then picked up the letter cut outs to start applying glue on them. “You feel guilty for something, don’t you? Did you sin, sweet girl? You’ve been dodging the topic all day and the only time I was able to read the thoughts behind your eyes was when I brought up the word ‘sin,’ you’re even shaking now just like you did a couple hours ago.” 
He was speaking so nonchalantly. You couldn’t take your eyes away from Eddie’s fingers as they move quickly on the paper, then up to his lips to hold the stick between them. Guilt was eating you up quickly now. No matter how long it subsided, it always came back. Now, even more so since the muse of your sins is starting to figure you out. But then, you remembered: “f-fine, I mentioned that I would tell you after we finished, so m-maybe I’ll be ready t-to tell you then.”
“Looks like you better finish up those cards fast, because I’m ready to hear it all, baby.”
This was it. 
The beginning of your end. 
As you let Eddie use the table, you moved over to the couch, wanting to be far away from him for a little while. Trying to calm your nerves, think of the words to say, whether you would tell him the truth or not, theorizing what he would think of you if you did decide to confess: they were all reasons to stay apart. Especially so The Dealer didn’t see your shaky hands finish up the cue cards. 
Eddie is going to hate me — the words repeated in your head every few moments. You were his sweet girl, the one who read the Bible as often as he read the Lord of the Rings books, the one who needed him to explain dirty jokes to you that people said around school. You weren’t supposed to unknowingly sin for weeks on end with his voice being the imaginary guide to help you find the most relief. After hearing condemnation from your friend at Bible study and your beloved priest right afterwards, you weren’t so sure how your heart would take seeing Eddie’s disgust with you. At this rate, the cue cards were going to be ineligible when you two needed to glance down at them on Wednesday. 
Even from a few feet away, Eddie swears he could hear the gears turning in your head, alongside the continuous pattern of leg shaking. He felt bad, truly. You were always one to be so kind to everyone, so giving and polite. That no matter how much he wanted to know the dirty little secret that was causing you so much pain, what he really wanted to do was just take it all away. Eddie hoped that if you did decide to tell him the truth, that you would feel better afterwards. But, you wouldn’t be able to tell him anything clearly if you were full of anxiety. So he lit another cigarette, making sure you were still busy writing on cue cards with furrowed brows, and walked towards your father’s record player. The selection was absurd, but the soft instrumentals might help soothe your soul. 
In a way, The Dealer regrets teasing you so much about it. You were fine when you were distracted by the project, but now that it was almost over and you were amping yourself up to confess something – you looked like you were about to cry like you did this morning. It was both cute and caused a strain in his heart. Eddie thought back to seeing you first thing this morning and how much has happened to lead up to this point, as he sets a new record to play then jumps on the couch next to you. 
“Almost done, princess?”
“Y-yeah, this is the last card. But it’s messy since my hand hurts and I’m sleepy,” you try to lie a bit to see if he would mention you should sleep instead of having a basement confessional.
The lying was coming to you easily, you really were trying to hide something from him, Eddie thought. “Well then, I would call this an extremely successful night. We’re gonna ace this.”
“Hopefully, weren’t you failing this class because of the last test?”
“Yes, but now because of you, my little Angel, I’m gonna get my grades up,” he winked at you as he continued inhaling cigarette smoke and exhaling it behind him. 
“Please don’t call me that,” you said, putting down the cue cards on the table and then squeezing the fabric of your skirt out of sheer nervousness.
The way your heart was beating out of your chest was hurting you. It felt the same way yesterday when you walked to the confessional at church — and that didn’t turn out so well. So why would it be any different if you tell someone else your sins?
“You’ve been hot and cold all day. If it’s a serious problem and you don't want to tell me about it then maybe you should tell your parents.” 
You were so entranced by your own beating heart that you didn’t notice that Eddie put out his cigarette and sat right next to you in the middle of the couch, while you were leaning slightly on the left arm. 
“I couldn’t possibly tell them, Eddie. I’m already too scared to tell you,” you gasped with tears welling up in your eyes. 
He cautiously reached an arm around you, unsure if you would accept it or not — now that you weren’t distracted by the project, Eddie feared the aching feeling that occurred whenever you pulled away from him throughout the day. This time though, you welcomed it as he started to stroke your skin with this thumb. “It’s probably not as bad as you think it is. Hell, I’ve probably done a lot worse in the past three days,” Eddie chuckled in your ear. 
“Do you like sinning, Eddie?” It’s now or never, you decided to blurt out part of the thoughts lingering in your head. 
“What?”
“The things you do, the things you’re known for. My parents say it’s a form of sinning. But that doesn’t make you a bad person.”
You said your words nearly into his chest, as you went to face him but didn’t have the courage to look him in the eye. Eddie thought it was endearing, “do you think I’m a bad person?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know your answer though. 
“No,” you exclaimed. “Not at all. It’s just— 
“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to—” he tried to cut you off, but your quiet voice took over the room. 
“If sinning is so bad, then why does it feel so good?” You finally said aloud the questions that were haunting you. “Why are you still the nicest person I know, when everyone else says that you could be a bad influence on me?”  you looked up at Eddie now, shivering at how close he was to your face. 
“On Sunday, I saw you walk out of the church,” things were starting to click. 
“I went to confession that day and —”
You sobbed, not being able to contain the conflicting emotions you were feeling. The guilt of your sins, and how you wanted nothing more than to do it again.
You’re going to Hell. This confessional is just going to seal it. 
“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to. But it may make you feel better.” On the other hand, Eddie wants nothing more than to know your sins, and figure out why you wanted to keep it a secret from him. 
Judging by the way you’re continuously clenching your thighs together, he has an idea what it could be. 
“I shouldn’t,” you say nervously. Just then, Eddie unwraps his arm around you and you whimper at the lost comforting feeling. He kneels in front of you instead. His touch never left you though: placing a trail from your shoulder, to your back, then down your right arm to ultimately grasp your hands. As he held both your hands in one of his, the other stroked your thigh lightly before joining all four of your hands together. 
 You didn’t want to admit that it felt really good. 
“Trust me, anything you did that’s making you feel guilty, everyone else has probably done a million times worse,” Eddie said with a grin. 
“Promise not to tell?”
“Promise,” he tried to soothe your shaking legs by pressing his arm down on your thighs momentarily.
“A-and you won’t judge me?” You try to confirm it. 
“Never.”
You quiet your sobs for a moment, not even breathing, in order to hear if your mother had started getting ready for bed. She has, since the television in the living room was turned off and there were no sounds of footsteps in the kitchen. So you look at Eddie again, tears still escaping your eyes. 
Although he loves the vision of you shedding tears in his arms, he wipes some away with his sleeve. Then places his hand back down to your left thigh, stroking it slowly to try and calm you down. It works, but at the exact same time, it doesn’t. The town nominated the man in front of you as a pawn to Satan — and to you, he was just as bad as the snake in the garden of Eden. He’s the reason why you’re in this predicament. It’s his hands, lips, and tongue that you picture every night as you sin without guilt. Well, until this weekend. 
“Sometimes when I go to bed, it’s hard for me to fall asleep because there’s something bothering me. Like my body doesn’t want to sleep until I t-take care of it.” You try your best to not stutter as you whisper the genesis of your guilt. Eddie knows exactly where the words are leading to. It takes every ounce of strength in his body not to push you too hard for his perverted agenda. 
“What bothers you?” He asks while stroking your clenched hands with his left hand’s thumb. While the fingers on his right are circling your thigh in tiny patterns, inching closer to the hem of your skirt, but never going past it. 
“Everything,” you croak out. “Like I needed a massage on every inch of my skin.”
Eddie chooses his next words carefully, trying to get you to say what he wants to hear: the confession. “If massaging your back and neck makes you feel this guilty, I could always do it for you,” he smiles with a small chuckle, causing you to follow. 
“That’s not –”
“Then tell me,” he said through a smile. 
You clench your legs together out of nervousness. Only to notice that Eddie had placed his fingers atop the middle of your thighs, right where they met. Your thighs had accidentally squished the calloused digits – nearly causing you to want to whimper, but you spoke instead. 
“U-uhm, well,” you paused, “at night when I can’t sleep, there’s no need to massage my neck because that’s not the place that’s bothering me the most. It’s m-my–” Eddie’s eyes widen to urge you to continue.
“Remember, I promised not to judge you,” he says while stroking the skin of your hands in his. But you let your left hand leave the warmth, and moved it slowly to the silver crucifix at your neck. After a moment you made a trail down to the side of your hip — too afraid to point at the other spot that ached more. 
“Here, right here.” The way you bite your lip makes you think it’s about to draw blood. “I feel like I need to move my hips back and forth. S-so I do.” 
Eddie smiles, he’s getting there. It will only take a few more seconds until he hears the full confession, he can feel it. “That’s it, sweetheart? That’s not so bad, I’ve heard and done worse, trust me,” The Dealer says, trying to emit a competitive spirit within you to see if that will push you over the edge.
“No, the part that makes it a sin were my thoughts and what I did to them. You see, I��”
“There we go,” Eddie begins to massage between your clenched legs to try and pry them open so he could start stroking upon your inner thighs. Your body lets him before your mind has the opportunity to tell you otherwise. Your thighs are only an inch apart, but it’s enough room for Eddie to tease the sensitive skin.
“I get a pillow and put it between my legs. At first, I thought that maybe my muscles were stiff so that’s why I did it, honest,” you quietly exclaim to prove your innocent initial thoughts. 
“Don’t worry, babygirl,” he lifts the hand that’s holding yours and kisses your knuckles sweetly. The action makes you whimper. “Pillows are soft, they’re nice. I don’t see any sinning yet though,” he says deeply as a response to your story and both of your bodies tonight. 
“Then, I started to move my hips slowly because the rest of my body felt stiff. So I did, and it felt really n-nice,” you continue your story while barely looking him in the eye, but still following the movements of his hand on your thigh. “I kept going and going until I rolled over onto my stomach to get the ache from my muscles to go away from another angle.”
Eddie knew exactly what you were doing, and he prayed for the first time in a while to keep his hardness hidden from your beautifully tear-filled eyes. “Now that, my darling, is dirty. Tell me more.” If he wasn’t able to do anything with you tonight then at least he was going to memorize this story to replay in his imagination later. 
“The Devil took over me, the priest said the other day. He didn’t hear anything from me after what I just told you. But he was right, Eddie. My body moved on its own. There was this throbbing feeling that kept getting stronger.”
“Where was it doing that?” He asked with feign-innocence in his voice. He knew what you were going to say next, so Eddie lifted your skirt slightly so his fingers could make their way closer to your core. 
“You’re close to it now,” you can’t even say it out loud, so you squeeze his left hand out of nervousness – hoping that what you said is enough to satiate his curiosity. 
Eddie chuckles a bit at your innocence. “Oh, right here,” he places his right hand over your skirt now, laying it above your mound so you could get the picture. You nod hesitantly before he continues. “Did the throbbing feel good though?” he teases you with the question, and you nod again. “Words, sweetheart.”
“Y-yes, Eddie, it felt so good. At one point it was so strong, then it would go away.” There was a sense of sadness in your eyes as you pouted. “But, then I would do it again until I was sleepy.” 
His hand that’s holding yours, lets go for the first time so that he can hold your face with both hands.
Damn the Church for making you feel that way about your pleasure. If he had the chance, he would show you every single way the human body could reach its climax. That would be a real miracle that would make him believe in God. 
“So this is what has put you in such a mood for two days, huh? The words your priest has told you stuck in your head.” He wipes away the abundance of tears from your face so that you stop involuntarily swallowing the remnants of your emotions. 
“Well, it started Saturday, after Bible study. I was talking to my friend about it to see if she knew what I was talking about. She gasped so loud and told me it was sinning because of how I did it to myself and didn’t stop.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he tried to ease your tension.
“But, Eddie,” you exclaimed a little too loudly. He even placed a finger on your lips to hush your tone— scared that you would wake your father up. “She is right. I did that every single day for weeks and weeks. With different things too. Like my stuffed panda, different pillows on my bed, and that towel you let me keep –” 
You’re not completely sure why you were confessing more to Eddie than you did to your own priest. Let alone confess one part about him. But it felt nice to get everything off your chest tonight.
“Look at me, making my cameo in your dirty fantasy,” he giggles before placing a kiss to the side of your mouth. It made you blush to feel his soft lips on your skin, you craved more. “What I’m understanding is that you haven’t been able to do this activity for three days now?” you nodded at the question, too scared to respond vocally because you might let some more slip. 
Eddie took a moment to think about what to say next. This was more difficult than writing a song or doing a math test. Plus, if the strain on his jeans was any indication of how badly he yearned to help you, then the dam was about to burst. 
Every single day for weeks and weeks, the words repeated in his head. 
That means every time he has sat next to you in fourth period, every time you talked to him at his locker, or whenever you sat with his club at lunch — Eddie was talking to an innocent Angel who masturbates and brings herself to multiple orgasms every night without even realizing it. If the man had known, he would’ve invited himself over earlier so he could assist you in your beautiful fantasy. Maybe so that you didn’t need to use his towel to get yourself off, but him instead. 
He continued, “why don’t I help you? That would make it better, won’t it?”
“B-but, that means you’re sinning too,” you squeak out quietly. Not sure if the tears still running down your face are from relief, guilt, or both. 
“I already always do,” he says with a smile. The Dealer keeps one hand on your face while the other places a trail of featherlight touches from your neck to the tops of your thighs. Once it’s there, he massages circles, causing you to rub them together unintentionally. “And you said it was a sin because you did it to yourself. What if I helped you and did all the work? That’s a loophole since this pretty little pussy you have won’t need to do anything.”
Hearing the word out loud made you shiver. Eddie had said it in a way that made you throb in the same way you did all those nights prior. “When you put it that way –”
“We don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. Seriously, this can stop any time whenever you hear the Angel on your shoulder scream at you.”
“I have something else to confess, Eddie.” One of your hands met up with his at your thigh, stroking the veins on his hands that you imagined so often. “You’re my Devil: the only thing that crosses my mind when I sin, tempting me to do so much more,” the words spill out of your mouth quickly, since you feel comfortable enough with this confessional with him — he deserves to know what you’re thinking of. 
“Oh my God,” Eddie groans, squeezing your thigh and rutting against the couch so he could relieve some tension of his hardening member. He really thought he was going to be doing all the seduction tonight, but he was oh so wrong.
“Why do my sins make me feel so good, if they’re so bad?” you pause at the question you've asked about for the second time tonight . “If I’m damned like they say I am, then that means I’m going to Hell,” the quiet voice that emits from your throat is full of guilt and nervousness. 
“Then let's be damned and burn in Hell together, baby. You’re gonna love it,” Eddie says. 
Your Devil, your vessel of temptation, the one person who made you cross the line from being pure to the second-biggest sinner you know — leans forward to capture your lips with his, and oh how you loved it. 
-:-:-:-:-
taglist: @bbyhargrove // @delightfulwinnerdiplomatpalace // @littlemrsmunson // @lolalanaie
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abcd-adventures · 6 months ago
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Not an "easy read"--feel free to skip.
Friends, it has been a week. I am so. freakin. happy. to have zero plans today (other than, of course, catching up on a million chores). B even slept in until 6am. I was so grateful I'd turned my alarm off because that meant that I also slept in until 6am; I honestly cannot remember the last time I've done that. Even my mother coming out here to disrupt our quiet morning and make a jab at me about not going to church isn't going to derail this sense of peace. *eye roll. She's been sick, so I just casually asked her if she was going to church today. She responded, "Yes. Are you?" Look, man, I fully support anyone's spiritual or religious choices and practices so long as they're not harmful to others. Personally, I have never felt further away from my own sense of spirituality than I do in a church. It's not for me; I wish that didn't translate into my mother constantly in anguish about me going to hell, but what can you do. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Anyway, on Monday, I left work to take a friend to the psych ER for severe SI and a transfer to inpatient. Let me tell you, that process is horrific. As a therapist--and just...you know...a human--I actually cannot think of much worse for a person having a mental health crisis than to be put into what is essentially a cell in a psych ER. (And, please don't come at me to explain why they are the way they are because I do actually know all of that but my statement stands.) Thankfully, I was able to stay with my friend and eventually even able to transport them myself--SEVEN HOURS LATER--to the inpatient hospital, but everyone else was there alone. I honestly cannot imagine. While there, I got a call from CPS...nothing like that to scare ten years off of your life. They were actually calling about one of C's siblings because they needed an adult relative to release said sibling to or they were going to have to spend the night in CPS custody. I am not actually a relative, but I explained that my son is and gave them his number and then called him to prep him and talk him through the situation. Holy. Shit. Our house is already full to bursting, so I gave him money to get a hotel nearby and some essentials and dinner. Then, the SAME NIGHT, my husband had to call in a wellness check on my MIL and said, "It just feels like this is the night I'm going to hear that they've found her dead." That was not the case, but she is...not doing well, but was doing well enough to refuse EMS intervention.
I am very grateful to be able to support the people I love in facing difficult things. My friend is doing so much better already. My son is making me very proud of how he is being there for his sibling, and my husband and I are making a plan for what we can do for his mother. It is a lot, and it is heavy, but quiet days at home help. And, I would take the heaviness any day if it means that we have the privilege of being there for others.
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seatail-mc · 1 month ago
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The Snorsening
Monday, January 20th
4:00pm - I am watching trsmp, streamer puts on the song "Take Me to Snurch", a snail-themed cover of "Take Me to Church". The line "That's a fine looking high-snorse" rewires a part of my brain
4:30pm - My sibling is drawing a picture of a horse. I ask them to turn it into a "snorse", as I have become quite endeared to the idea of such a creature.
4:31pm - They produce this image:
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9:00pm - I am watching Drawfee play Miitopia on stream. Their horse character has an attack called "snort". The Drawfee crew all start chanting in unision, "Snorse! Snorse! Snorse!"
Conclustion: I believe the universe is trying to tell me something...
...what it's trying to tell me is "snorse", but I don't know... what... to do with that...
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faithhopeloveandtherapy · 6 months ago
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Miss 5 update - the school have agreed to try and manage without using her helmet. Two days in and it’s gone ok so far.
I took her swimming this afternoon and she must have tapped her head against every surface in the pool. She does that as a sensory seeking thing. But then in the bath this evening, she banged her head hard against the side of the tub so many times, I got her out. I am fairly firm with her that it is not ok and it will not get her what she wants. I do think she has the learning ability to understand that, but it’s a habit that’s become ingrained over many years. Her teacher tells me children often grow out of these sorts of behaviours so I hope that will be the case.
Mr 7 update - dry nighttime nappy for three nights out of the last five! I think we have nearly mastered it. I have told him that when he has a total of ten dry nights, I will buy him the black bed covers he has been going on about. Also cycling lessons paying off, he managed to pedal solo for a few seconds in his lesson this weekend. So good for him to have these moments of achievement! We went to church this morning, and I spent the whole time in his kids group building a front-loading garbage truck from cardboard boxes (we watch a lot of YouTube videos of American bin vans, they are far more complicated with robotic arms and hands-free loading and dumping than our UK ones!)
Thankful it’s Monday and school tomorrow!
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kastlequill · 1 year ago
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i/v. ‘til my pulse loses time: pulsus bisferiens
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pairing: kyle gaz garrick x f!reader word count: 1.3k synopsis: the first time you save gaz tags: whumptober, gunshot wounds, blood and injury, wound tending, hurt/comfort, medic!reader, 4+1, no y/n warnings: none ao3: read here next →
I.
Tuesdays were unremarkable. They couldn’t compare to the infamous Mondays or halfway-mark Wednesdays, to anticipatory Thursdays or the thank-God-it’s Fridays, least of all to the relaxing Saturdays and Church-going Sundays.
The new orders you received last Tuesday, however, were anything but plain. There was nothing ordinary about getting shipped out to a classified location to provide aid to the soldiers injured during their classified missions to eliminate classified targets.
You knew next to nothing about your current assignment. High command had informed you that you’d be working as the lead on-site medic, tending to the wounded and assisting in their recovery to the best of your abilities. That was all your superiors had felt the need to tell you.
The base of operation was fairly sizable, well stocked, and even had a couple other medical personnel around to help too, so you couldn’t really complain. You’d primarily be dealing with soldiers who were designated as special operators, and, in your experience, those types made absolute dogshit patients. Only a single week had passed, yet you could already tell that some of the lot were more injury-prone than others.
A specific British SAS sergeant came to mind.
Your first time meeting him had been relatively benign; he’d entered the mess hall as you exited. Although speedily heading in different directions, he had nonetheless offered a casual salute, and you had returned his gesture with a nod of your own. Simple, polite. No fuss.
The exact opposite of how he arrived to you today, the second Tuesday of the month.
Two towering men flanked him on either side as they shouldered their half-conscious comrade into your medbay. With them came chaos. Thick English accents yelling for a medic, combat boots storming toward you, dragging in a trail of blood. They brought war to your feet and Death to your door.
Rushing over to them, you quickly scanned the sergeant’s body for damage. Preliminary assessments yielded speculative results at best: a tourniquet around his thigh told of prior heavy bleeding, and the sway of his head meant he wasn’t fully capable of supporting its weight. But nothing was certain. 
“What am I dealing with here? Concussion, gunshot wound, broken bones—?”
“—got caught in the blast radius,” interrupted a gruff voice belonging to the masked lieutenant. “Knocked ‘im back a few meters. No major visible injuries, ‘cept a bullet to the leg.” 
You swore. “Is it still inside?” 
Exit wounds typically offered a better prognosis; the energy driving forth a gunshot needed somewhere to go, and, preferably, that somewhere was far from surrounding organs or internal systems. If the piece of metal remained lodged inside of him, then you would have to remove it.
He answered with a single definitive nod. Unsurprising; of course nothing in war ever turned out for the better.
“Put him on my table. Carefully.” 
The two soldiers hauled their brother-in-arms up onto the examination table that had seen more action within a week than most ever did. Trauma to the head required immediate attention; the brain was a delicate organ, and if the explosion had badly jostled it against the walls of his skull, there could be severe damage.
Unwilling to waste a second longer, you gently parted the now-supine man’s eyelids with your fingertips to get a look at his pupils. In the midst of an unfocused sea of brown, one pupil was more dilated than the other—concussed, then. At the intensity of the blue overhead light, he reflexively squinted and shut his eyes once more.
That wouldn’t do. “Sergeant, I need you to open those eyes again, okay? Think you can track this flashlight for me?”
Being as sensitive to brightness as he was currently, it took some effort for him to pry his eyes open. They valiantly fought the urge to close whilst following the stick-end of your black flashlight from left to right, right to left. There was some unsteady shakiness to their movement, but they still appeared properly calibrated.
“You’re doing great,” you encouraged, holding his gaze as you pocketed the light. The next course of action was to check his processing of visual information. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
He blinked slowly, an inquisitive frown contorting his features. Several confusion-riddled seconds elapsed until the man decided to simply feel what he could not see. Grasping your hand in his own, he grazed your knuckles with a calloused thumb, explored the lengths of your raised fingers, puzzled out how they were configured into the shape of a peace sign. Recognition sparked in his eyes.
“Two.”
An endeared smile graced your lips. The only predictable constant in this profession was its unpredictability. None of your previous patients had done that before.
“Try again.” You lightly pulled your hand free and watched his own fall back to rest on his chest, physically unable to sustain the lifted position. Unfurling your ring finger to join your index and middle, three total fingers hovered in front of his face, just out of reach. “How many do you see now?”
Without using his sense of touch to determine the correct number, all the sergeant could do was sigh and reply honestly. “Six.”
“Y’can’t be serious, Gaz. The limit’s five,” his mohawked companion corrected, a hint of incredulity and amusement slipping into his tone.
“Quit taking the piss, we’ve got ten of ‘em.” The words were slurred, but intelligible. As he spoke, his brows began to furrow, the man suddenly unsure of himself. He looked at the captain, whose belated entrance managed to diffuse some of the anxiety present in the room. “Right, sir?”
The room erupted with noise as the three other soldiers simultaneously began to talk over each other. You were able to catch the occasional bloody hell and heard yes, Gaz, that’s right and even chuckled a bit at no need to worry, you still ‘ave all ten of the little bastards.
Military folk had a specific way of coping with the consequences of war, and you didn’t think you would ever quite understand it from your side of the line. But if it worked, then it worked. What mattered was the patient’s ability to persist in spite of the world; the exact methods used to do so weren’t up for scrutiny, not by you or anyone else.
Donning a clean pair of surgical gloves, you exchanged glances with the technician and nurse on duty. “Get him a CT scan. Let’s make sure his brain’s in one piece, then we can deal with the bullet. I’ll prep the OR.”
When you made to leave, a tug on your wrist stopped you in your tracks. A quick turn of your head revealed the image of his loose yet insistent grip around you once again, unwilling to let go of what had seemingly become his sole anchorage to the land of the living.
“Don’t worry,” you said softly, squeezing his hand in yours. This—comforting the wounded—was as much a part of the healing process as medicine itself. Even the toughest of soldiers reverted to a childlike state of vulnerability after too close a brush with death. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”
The tension in his features relaxed as did his hold on you, and he lowered himself to lay flat on the table’s surface before being wheeled away by the technician. As you watched his form disappear beyond the threshold of a plastic curtain, you were struck with a near-overwhelming sense of foreboding.
Though you hoped this Gaz wouldn’t soon return with an irremediable injury, optimism had never been your strong suit.
tbc.
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thisdancingheart · 1 month ago
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Hello Tumblr friends, from Southern California.
I am fine, I’m on the far right of this map, out of danger of the current fires, close enough to see their smoke plumes across the basin and I should probably wear a mask if I go out because the smoke is just hanging over us all now. There is dirt and fine ash that will need to be swept up, probably tomorrow. We have another wind event predicted for Monday and Tuesday, but probably not as fierce as the one on Tuesday. Oh, this screenshot is a day old, the acreage is out of date now.
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This is one photo of one area of Pacific Palisades. This does not look like a war zone or any other thing you might compare it to, it looks exactly like a fast moving wildfire fed by 80 - 100 mile an hour winds ripping through vegetation that hasn’t seen a drop of rain since April, or maybe it was March, and it grew thick in ‘22 and ‘23 when we did get rain. I have lived somewhere in California, north or south, since I was four. We always get wildfires in October, until the rain comes in December or January, but they have been made exponentially worse because of climate change. Do not listen to tin hats and tangerine guy cultists who will try to blame everything and everyone under the sun, they don’t live here, they don’t know what we deal with. This is climate change. Repeat ad nauseam.
You may have heard about the celebrities that have lost their homes, but I promise you they are probably only 1% of the population that is suffering. The majority of the homes lost in Pacific Palisades and Altadena belonged to middle class families and the elderly who bought them decades ago. They were passed down to adult children instead of being sold, they were kept in families who could not afford to enter the market at current prices. Many small business owners have also lost their livelihoods, restaurants, salons, shops, etc, and they may not be able to relocate or rebuild. The early estimate is more than 5000 structures have been lost, that includes schools, churches, grocery stores, private museums, and other types of places that help build communities and connect people.
If you are someone who thinks “ha ha LA deserves it” for some reason, first, fuck you, and second, if you really believe that, then stop consuming our products, including Disney, Netflix, and network TV, anything filmed here, any game developed here, anything written here, anything financed here, anything grown here, etc, etc.
So far, I am personally adjacent to a few people that I know have lost their homes: the man who designed and handmade a few pieces of jewelry that I own including the teapot and tea cup necklace you may have seen me wear if we’ve ever met in person, and the woman whose workouts I used to subscribe to years ago. I’ve met Mandy Moore a few times in the past, I’m quite fond of her, and like many, I followed along as she remodeled her home before moving in to it. She’ll be fine, her home is mostly intact, but I feel for her husband losing his studio and the instruments he had collected throughout his life.
Before you reply to this post, please look around your home and imagine it gone, except for a backpack that you were able to fill before you ran out. Imagine your neighborhood gone, your community gone, your friends and neighbors scattered all over the region seeking out shelter and assistance. Please spare a thought for those who have lost everything in Los Angeles, North Carolina, Florida, etc, because we are all in this together and it isn’t a natural disaster competition. I know there are places all over the world suffering, this is all I have the capacity for right now. I am bracing for more to come next week.
Thank you for making it this far. Please reblog or reply with compassion. Take your BS elsewhere. Thank you.
Edit to add: special thanks to Canada and Mexico, two sovereign nations, for sending firefighters and Super scooper planes.
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