#at least i'm gaining experience
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kkeomchiz · 2 years ago
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I GOT PAID
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seventh-district · 2 months ago
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again and again i find myself lamenting that audio roleplay isn't taken more seriously by some people. like yeah, they often have a romantic element, and by nature they usually directly involve/address the listener- and i totally get that those things aren't to everyone's taste. no art or entertainment is universally appealing, and that's okay! but.. it still makes me a lil sad that the "cringe" reputation of asmr/audio rp precedes it. there's a whole lot of talent and creativity being poured into these audios by so many people that i feel goes unrecognized and/or disrespected simply due to the medium that the stories are being told through.
#this post brought to you by: me bingeing Sam & Darlin's entire storyline over the past few days and having a Lot of feelings abt it#asmr#audio roleplay#rp audio stuff#redacted audio#anyways i don't have a conclusion to this post. and i'm not Mad or Upset or anything i'm just thinkin' out loud#and i mean it's not like it doesn't get plenty of praise within its respective audience bc it does. at least for the more popular creators#but i feel it'll still always have the shadow of its cringe reputation looming over it#which makes it hard for some ppl to openly appreciate or share with others that aren't already fans of the medium#like do u know how many comments i've seen along the lines of 'this is great but i'd die if anyone knew i liked this kinda stuff' ?? :(#idk maybe i feel strongly about it bc i'm a self-insert fanfic writer. and i feel like the two have a lot in common. including a bad rep.#like. not every audio will be well-written or produced and neither will every fanfic. but that doesn't mean it's a less legitimate artform#and i'm lucky to have never (yet) received negative comments on my work. but that doesn't mean that it doesn't make me sigh when people-#-say shit like 'this reads like fanfiction' as a way of calling something bad. or other similar sentiments that make the same implication#and i wouldn't be surprised if audio creators feel the same way when they encounter certain comments or statements#like. those YT videos where ppl will 'try bf asmr for the first time' or whatever and it's just 20 mins of cringing and over-reacting? eugh#tbf i haven't watched many bc why do that to myself. so Maybe there's some that are respectful but still. imagine getting roasted like that#and yes yes i know that by posting stuff online you're inadvertently sighing up to be criticized by Anyone but still. man. i dunno#i'm going on a tangent but my point is. i'm grateful for the creators that still make their art in spite of the public's perception of it#bc some of the most impactful emotional experiences i've ever gained from fiction took place in audio rp and i'm so serious abt that.#anyways. this post almost feels like i'm 'making up a person to be mad at' but i promise it's not that serious i'm just yapping. mostly.#certainly not trying to start any kind of debate or anything either i just have a lot of fixation-induced energy and nowhere to put it#this is Eric's fault (/lh) for cooking Sam up in a lab catered exactly to my taste and making Darlin' waaaaay too painfully relatable#but it's also My fault for bingeing the Inversion /and/ the Quinn arc /and/ the Summit all within a couple days. but i can't help myself#feels like i've run an emotional marathon. triathlon. The Emotional Olympics if u will. i'm feeling Everything#who knew that beating the shit out of ur fictional abuser could feel so goddamn cathartic! it's a nice replacement when u can't do it irl#anyways i'm off on a tangent again. thanks for coming to my TED Talk i'm gonna crawl back in my hole now#actually i'm gonna go relisten to a few audios. as Research for my Sam & Darlin' playlist as well as a post i'll be making about it soon#u Know i've got it bad when i not only make a playlist but start Posting on here about the songs that remind me of them. i'm cooked guys.
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vaguely-concerned · 20 days ago
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we've had a death in the family (a long expected one, to be clear, but sad nonetheless :( ) and the funeral is across the country on the day after veilguard releases, so my wait now has a few more days added to it. oh well if I've waited ten years I can wait until the monday after launch haha
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pa-pa-plasma · 2 months ago
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kind of frustrating that people took "fat does not equal unhealthy" to mean "fat is not unhealthy." sometimes being obese IS unhealthy & excess fat can cause a lot of problems. ignoring health issues isn't progressive. real "oranges kill people with depression" moment
#i have a lot to say but i think it all boils down to this:#the only reason people think this way is because they experienced body shaming & bullying for their fatness#& instead of gaining a healthy relationship with their body & its needs they went full denial mode#people that aren't fat that think this way are just going with things uncritically which is also bad btw#because when you have decades of proof that being severely overweight can be detrimental to your health#(& no i don't mean fucking. supersize me. i mean medical proof that too much fat causes diseases & early death)#but you're ignoring that because a tiktok influencer that has no medical experience said so#that is a huge lack of critical thinking skills on display & people are gonna listen to that misinformation & some might die#this isn't some light shit that can be waved off as non-harmful because it IS harmful! it is actively hurting people!!#again being unhealthy isn't a moral failing & no one deserves shit for that!! but that's the whole damn point isn't it!!!#militant fat activists are so afraid of their fatness being associated with anything negative they turn right around into ableism#they don't WANT to be considered disabled! because being disabled IS a moral failing to them. disability is abnormal#& of course being morbidly obese is totally normal. because if it wasn't then they'd need to do work & handle an ED#& that's too much to grapple with mentally so. no. they're normal. super normal. don't look at the lifespan of someone over 300lb#btw i am 100% aware that a lot of this is combined with other issues like racism sexism homo/transphobia genuine fatphobia#but also sometimes they really can't operate on someone that can't recover afterwards#like i wouldn't call the vet bigoted & cat-hating for being unable to operate on my 20yo cat#Minnie would simply not survive that. because she is so damn old#unfortunately for Minnie she can't get younger but people CAN lose weight in multiple different ways#& it may seem like the world is attacking you but you really have to train yourself out of automatic bad faith reactions#''you couldn't possibly understand!!'' yeah okay i'm sooo abled & privileged you got me there (<-sarcasm. if you couldn't tell)#just because someone hasn't experienced your EXACT thing doesn't mean they can't relate & haven't gone through similar#it's so difficult to train your brain out of that shit i get that but you really really really have to. or you will die#or at least be miserable#DISCLAIMER: i'm not talking about every person who has even a little fat on their body. fat is NEEDED#but like all things too much of a good thing can cause problems & fat is not exempt#this is about morbid obesity. not someone who's like 160lb that shit is normal#& people need to stop thinking anything over 110lb is fat#because it isn't & i think most people are getting into unhealthy territory at that low of a weight#basically i view being too fat the same as being too thin. they both cause health problems & should be taken seriously
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werewolves-are-real · 2 months ago
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What type of work do you do for a living
Just low-level administration things. I have an English degree but I have a lot of regrets (not doing internships in college, not doing something more specialized) so... bleh. Haven't done anything useful with it.
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eudikot · 1 year ago
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Hey baes ship base dropped
Here's the original
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maitanii · 2 years ago
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I've got an internship in a marketing agency and my friends have spammed me with videos from a Netflix show and each one of the has made me laugh till my stomach hurt
ps: me at the agency
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lonestatus · 11 months ago
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actually can i complain again. it's about relationships this time though
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arcxnumvitae · 1 year ago
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First Chia now Lea (rhyme unintended), Minglian's just gaining bunches of cool ladies to look up to huh.
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fuckwoodyallen · 1 year ago
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I’m having such strange feelings about my identity again. re-realizing my dykeism was maybe the best revelatory thing to have happened to me in recent years, and I absolutely am happy to call myself a lesbian, but the fact is that my dysphoria is fucking me up so bad. there’s like, this weird sense of internalized homophobia I have, that isn’t due to a dislike of being a lesbian, but rather a deep-seated envy of those who get to experience boyhood and male homosexuality. I don’t know. there’s something wrong with me. I love being a transmasc lesbian - I relate to and see myself in lesbianism more than anything else - but also I still wish I was a teenage boy. witnessing two twinks sharing a tender kiss or whatever makes me want to harm myself out of the sheer dysphoria and envy it gives me. ah. oh well
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dreamlogic · 2 years ago
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...
#shit chat#medical cw#meatsuit renno#finally worked up the guts to message the surgeon who did my hysterectomy like#hey i know it's normal to experience pain and stiffness for a while after this surgery like at least a couple months#but uuh. it's been 8 months and i still wake up feeling like shit most days?#pretty sure regular shooting pains where my right ovary used to be aren't normal almost a year after surgery?#like i could be wrong but i feel like i probably shouldn't need 1200mg of painkillers a day to manage constant throbbing abdominal aches#after i've hit the 'maximum recovery window' for this surgery uuh [checks calendar] ...nearly three times?#at least the fatigue has finally started to go away. i feel my vitality returning slowly but steadily#but i'm still not back to my pre-op activity or mobility levels cause OOF OUCH MY ABSOLUTE PELVIS#and i've been noticing an abnormal amount of abdominal bloating that doesn't seem to correlate with indigestion or other factors#and isn't fat from weight gain like i initially thought it was#idk maybe i'm paranoid but i read an article a while ago abt someone who had a 15lb cyst in that nobody noticed for over a year#bc they were AFAB & our pain is chronically underreported and not taken seriously when it is#like did y'all leave some forceps in my gut and now i'm growing a mass around it?? wtf????#idk if i hope it's nothing so i don't have to deal with more medical bullshit or if i hope it's something to legitimize my experience#godddd it would be so satisfying if i got to tell my boss's boss who's been hounding me relentlessly about proformance and Managing Burnout#HEY JACKASS TURNS OUT I'M A VICTIM OF BOTCHED SURGERY AND YOU'RE A DICK FOR NOT GIVING ME ACCOMMODATIONS
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numberone-wifeguy · 6 months ago
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05/07/24
#joy of joys!!!!#we're back to sleeping under five hours from the anxiety!!!!#fanTAStic.#my stomach feels like pure boiling acid.#maybe i should talk to her again.#tell her I'm trying and i appreciate her apology#but I'm too deeply hurt to just move past it so quickly.#not only is that honest [which is Good and Correct behavior that will get me Doing Relationship Right points]#but it'll also help me determine where we stand.#will she be able to respect that? if so for how long?#will she be able to give me time and space? how long will she be able to maintain restraint regarding new/temporary boundaries?#a test of sorts#[admittedly less Good Relationship Behavior. but can you blame me?]#ugh. at least i have therapy on Thursday. R will know what to do.#And I'm getting high again on Wednesday night.#Which will be the third week in a row. I'm actually following the general consensus pretty strictly but angel is...#shall we say a bit squirrelly. I'm so sure she's eventually going to express concern or anxiety about it.#that will also be a good opportunity for a test of my safety level rn.#how will she respond to me disagreeing with her outright?#''a considerably low dose of a very low-risk drug once a week is not some crazy out of control behavior.#i'm well researched and well within the parameters of safest practices. i think I'm fine.''#genuinely though i want to keep going i think mayyyybe two more times after this weekend#to get a feel for my personal reactions and metabolism.#i want to try a higher dose at a later date. i was going to skip this weekend to do it next week but!!#I don't think that's a good idea yet. i think I need to keep taking it slow.#not that dex is PHYSICALLY addictive but. given my track record.#i make finding ways to turn literally anything into an unhealthy dependency an Olympic sport.#so i think forcing myself to gain experience and to think carefully and pay attention#is a good move here if i want to escalate for soul-searching self-medicating internal-exploration etc purposes.#entry//
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dan-sing-in-the-rain · 8 months ago
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This might be a stupid question but is empathy an emotion or a thought process?
For example, when somebody does something that upsets you, and you try really hard to understand why they are doing what they are doing, even if you can't imagine ever feeling that way, is that empathy? Or is it not, because you are not feeling whatever way they are feeling?
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cjgladback · 1 year ago
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For the last several months I've been resisting the siren call of machining while enjoying the new-to-me channel Pask Makes, with its woodworking and tool production.
But yesterday I watched two videos from Adam Savage in a row, with all their semi-chaotic plotting, layout work, and winging it. I now desperately need access to a machine shop and I'm being so brave about it.
That said, I have just downloaded FreeCAD to get as close as I can digitally to that thought process without the metal shavings, blue stained fingertips, and sulfuric lubricant smell. Or at least as close as I can for free.
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taliabhattwrites · 3 months ago
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I don't think there is a significant or notable number of people who believe transmascs are not oppressed.
I feel slightly insane just having to type this out, but this is rhetoric you inevitably come across if you discuss transfeminism on Tumblr.
The mainstream, cissexist understanding of transmasculine people is the Irreversible Damage narrative (one that's old enough to show up in Transsexual Empire as well) of transmascs as "misguided little girls", "tricked" into "mutilating themselves". It is a deliberately emasculating and transphobic narrative that very explicitly centers on oppression, even if the fevered imaginings misattribute the cause. As anyone who's dealt with the gatekeeping medical establishment knows, they are far from giving away HRT or even consults with both hands, and most transfems I know have a hard enough time convincing people to take DIY T advice, leave alone "tricking" anyone into top surgery.
Arguably, the misogyny that transmasculine folks experience is the defining narrative surrounding their existence, as transmasculinity is frequently and erroneously attributed to "tomboyish women" who resent their position in the patriarchy so much they seek to transition out of it. This rhetoric is an invisiblization of transmasculinity, constructed deliberately to preserve gendered verticality, for if it were possible to "gain status" under the sexed regime, its entire basis, its ideological naturalization, would fall apart.
Honestly, the actual discussions I see are centered around whether "transmisogyny" is a term that should apply to transmascs and transfems alike. While I understand the impetus for that discussion, I feel like the assertion that transmisogyny is a specific oppression that transfems experience for our perceived abandonment of the "male sex" is often conflated with the incorrect idea that we believe transmasculine people are not oppressed at all. This is not true, and we understand, rather acutely, that our society is entirely organized around reproductive exploitation. That is, in fact, the source of transfeminine disposability!
I know I'm someone who "just got here" and there is a history here that I'm not a part of, but so much of that history is speckled with hearsay and fabrication that I can't even attempt to make sense of it. All I know is that I, in 2024, have been called a revived medieval slur for effeminate men by people who attribute certain beliefs to me based on my being a trans woman who is also a feminist, and I simply do not hold those views, nor do I know anyone who sincerely does.
If you're going to attempt to discredit a transfeminist, or transfeminism in general, then please at least do us the courtesy of responding to things we actually say and have actually argued instead of ascribing to us phantom ideologies in a frankly conspiratorial fashion. I also implore people to pay attention to how transphobic rhetoric operates out in the wider world, how actual reactionaries talk about and think of trans people, instead of fixating so hard on internecine social media clique drama that one enters an alternate reality--a phantasm, as Judith Butler would put it.
Speaking of which--do y'all have any idea how overrepresented transmascs are in trans studies and queer theory? Can we like, stop and reckon with reality-as-it-is, instead of hallucinating a transfeminine hegemony where it doesn't exist? I'm aware a lot of their output isn't particularly explicative on the material realities of transmasculine oppression despite their prominence in the academy, but that is ... not the fault of trans women, who face extremely harsh epistemic injustice even in trans studies.
The actual issue is how invisiblized transmasculine oppression is and how the epistemicide that transmasculine people face manifests as a refusal to differentiate between the misogyny all women face, reproductive exploitation in particular, and the contours of violence, erasure, and oppression directed at specifically transmasculine people.
You will notice that is a society-wide problem, motivated by a desire to erase the possibilities of transmasculinity, to the point of not even being willing to name it. You will notice that I am quite familiar with how this works, and how it's completely compatible with a materialist transfeminist framework that analyzes how our oppression is--while distinct--interlinked and stems from the same root.
I sincerely hope that whoever needs to see this post sees it, and that something productive--more productive dialogue, at least--can arise from it.
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glossgojo · 17 days ago
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father charlie mayhew x undercover detective fem! reader/that one fleabag scene
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5k words (i went crazy with this one)
oh boy where do i begin
TAGS: siren reader!, AFAB reader, religious themes, nonreligious reader, confession booth is sexy, oraI male receiving, big d!ck charlie, dubious consent, p in v, no protection, breeding cuz duh it’s me, blood k!nk (if u squint)
after lois was nearly detained for being belligerently drunk at work, the FBI called you in. not to work alongside her no, to survey and investigate the community. the crimes surrounded her. you became lois’s daughter’s “friend” living with her and hanging around whenever you could. fortunately for both of you, lois did actually like your company and so did her daughter.
with some miracle you became a part of her everyday life, even tagging along when she met sister megan once. the nun was peculiar and although you weren’t nearly as trusting as lois you liked her enough to fake your way into an unlikely friendship. you the hard on her luck “college student” and her the eccentric murder-obsessed nun. it worked well enough for a cover story and she seemed to buy it. given your experience you knew enough about murderers to get along with her, pretending to share her passion for serial killers and the like. she had mentioned visiting the diner over text one day, you thought it a great opportunity to get out and people watch but what you didn’t expect was that she had company.
you knew megan was unconventional to say the least but you didn’t expect her to be on a date with, the looks of it, a lady killer. the closer you got the more you had to mask your reaction, she was with the new priest. you just didn’t expect him to be near your age and straight out of a GQ magazine. you willed a smile to your lips as you sauntered to the side of her booth, throwing an around the back of her seat and leaning down. megan tore her eyes away from the priest, meeting yours after what felt like minutes. you didn’t blame her, you were having a hard time ignoring him as well. “megan! hey i hope i'm not interrupting.” you finally looked pointedly towards him, your smile withering as you met his chocolate eyes. you hadn’t seen eyes so dark in a while.
“did something happen?” she assumed you had an update, it wouldn’t be the first time since you lived so close to lois. you sometimes told her details to gain her trust, of course clearing it with lois first. you pretended you did, pretended whatever you had to say was not for the eyes of a very curious priest. his eyes hadn’t left you since you interrupted.
“no, uh we can talk later.” you motioned slightly towards him and megan realized she’d never made introductions. she broke eye contact turning towards the priest, finding him already looking at you, well more so the small sliver of skin your crop top displayed above your skirt from the way you stretched over her booth. she knew father mayhew was less traditional but she didn’t expect this.
“oh y/n this is father mayhew.” you looked at him waiting a beat before you smiled brighter than before, he was intrigued to say the least. you were confusing him, sending signals he couldn’t quite decipher. maybe he wasn’t your type because you seemed wholly unaffected by him. that or you were just good at hiding it.
“nice to meet you mr.mayhew.” there was no way you were calling him father, you weren’t religious much less catholic.
“father-“ megan started to correct you and you cocked your head to the side, ready to remind her you didn’t believe in organized religion.
“charlie is fine, please y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” he cut in before you two began your conversation, seeing the way your eyes narrowed at the correction. your eyes were back on him as soon as he said your name, masterfully hiding how your stomach flipped at it coming from his lips. it didn’t matter to him that you weren’t religious, hell it might be for the best if you weren’t. he would rather never see you or your red heels ever again.
“charlie, i’ll leave you two to it.” you attributed the startling attraction you felt to the taboo of it all. a priest, sinfully handsome, and from the look of his shoulders and arms his body was even more unholy. your glances had been brief but they were enough to spike your curiosity.
“please join us, i’d be interested to hear whatever you were about to share.” there was that egotistical expression on his face that made you think he didn’t usually get no from women.
“oh i don’t know it’s kind of a secret. can you keep a secret charlie?” you were pulling out all the stops, straightening your posture, batting your eyelids, even cocking your head to the side and if megan wasn’t so transfixed by his reaction she would’ve taken notes. he was completely drawn into you, reminding himself to blink and respond when you a smile twitched at the corner of your lips when you were met with silence. you knew you had him and he knew too.
“let’s pretend this is confession.” he drew his arms out, leaning back against the booth and you took the challenge, sitting next to megan before she could try to leave you two alone. the scent of your perfume hit him as you sat down, sensual and distinct. he’d remember it for days.
“sure confession, i’ve always liked the notion. there’s something so sexy about the whole thing don’t you think megan?” charlie watched you try to shift the subject away from whatever you came to say. he wasn’t so naive. however one thing became clear, you didn’t trust him.
“oh geez, i guess it is sexy. you’re dishing out your deepest darkest secrets in a small box where you can’t see the other person.” he could see the way your eyes softened around the edges when you looked at megan. and the way they changed when you looked back towards him. he hadn’t felt so wholly consumed by someone. whatever trap you had laid out, he was ensnared.
“i’ve always wondered who a priest confesses to?”
“God.” his eyebrow cocked at the question, eyes lighting up in amusement and you bashfully nodded your head.
“ah right.” megan laughed at your response, finding the exchange a bit trivial. she was itching to hear the new information.
“i’m gonna head back to the church, can’t exactly leave it unattended this long. sister it was great to speak with you and again nice to meet you y/n.” you waved him a goodbye as he got up and walked past you both, your eyes never leaving him until you couldn’t crane your neck much further. megan shook off the worries that were beginning to surface and instead pestered you to spill your guts. you did as soon as the diner’s bell rang to signal the door closing. you told her what you had rehearsed all the while being haunted by the ghost of father mayhew’s appearance.
the murders continued and you spent late nights with lois spinning every possible theory. you couldn’t scratch the itch that bothered you about megan and charlie. instead of asking megan to meet you, you decided to visit the father himself. although you would play it off as a last minute plan you carefully dressed for the occasion, a baby pink cropped cardigan covered your lacy tank top fit with high waisted flare jeans that hugged your curves just right. it looked casual and your skin was indeed covered enough for church but if you stretched or raised your arms even slightly your skin would show and you knew his eyes would find their way there just like before. you wore baby pink platform heels to match even, your hair up in a seemingly effortless updo that actually took you thirty minutes to perfect. and to top it all off you made sure to smell downright sinful and gloss your lips to the heavens.
he didn’t stand a chance.
you were grateful to find the church empty save the priest in question sitting in the pews reading what you assumed was the bible. the click of your heels drew his gaze over his shoulder, he would lose this battle without a doubt in his mind. he only hoped god would forgive him after. he rose to stand, abandoning the bible with ease and a smile crept to your lips as he met you in the walkway between the pews.
“y/n, what a surprise i thought you weren’t religious.” he didn’t think he’d see you again, not like this at least. maybe only in his dreams or when the desire deep inside him took over.
“oh i’m not, just curious.” you cocked your head to the side and charlie had a sneaking suspicion you got whatever you wanted when you did that. he wasn’t a stranger to using his looks to get things handed to him, he just didn’t expect to be so easily swayed by it himself.
“anything i can help you with?” as much as he would have liked to continue this staring contest he had an idea you were here on a mission. you had unsuccessfully hidden how taken you were with him. now standing at his full height you were finding it hard to disguise your attraction. he was tall, much taller than you had figured and even in your heels you came up to his shoulder. his body was crafted for sports, for modeling, for anything but the cloth. the sheer strength he wielded was going to waste, you wondered why he needed it all.
“you and sister megan are so wholly devoted to all this. i’ve never had that, something so…guiding.” he invited you to sit next to where he was situated before, you did with ease crossing your legs and sitting closer than you should be.
“your morals surely come from somewhere.”
“my parents, they weren’t religious, at least not catholic. all these murders, it just made me wonder.” you spoke in hushed whispers, the church was eerily quiet, so starkly different from the chaos of lois’s home.
“you’re scared, it’s reasonable to be. faith can give you strength but it can’t fix everything.” his head turned down towards you, onyx eyes sucking you in, you were captivated.
“hey i thought i was the atheist here.” you bumped your shoulder against his or really your shoulder against the muscle of his arms. he sucked in a breath, finding himself thinking less of religion the more he looked into your eyes. charlie drew the bible in front of him, turning the page to where he knew he’d find distraction.
“Isaiah 41:13 God promises to comfort and help those who are worried, and to take their hand and guide them through difficult times.” he turned the page to continue, not licking his finger in time and cutting his finger on the paper. it had never happened before and he didn’t even notice it until you listened on, eyes naturally drawn to his large veiny hands and then the pearl of blood that threatened to drop on the spotless floor.
“oh charlie,” you took his right hand in both of yours, thoroughly stopping his reading. you did the first thing you could think of, not wanting the blood to spill anywhere, bringing it to your lips and licking it off, meeting his gaze bashfully. the familiar taste of salty iron lined your teeth. the wet warm lap of your tongue against the pad of his finger combined with the sheen of your lips and your eye contact made charlie suddenly very aware of his corporeal form, all the rest of his blood rushing south. you did it so casually, as if consuming his blood was as natural as wine. the quiet vulnerability making him twitch in his pants. he thanked god it wasn’t well lit in the church or the bulge in his black slacks would be apparent. fortunately for him you were also too embarrassed to notice.
“s-sorry i just didn’t want it to spill.” you dropped his hand quickly, ignoring the warmth between your legs and opting to look very intently at the first button of his dress shirt. he needed to diffuse the situation before he coaxed you upstairs and smudged your damned lip gloss.
“it’s alright, i’m gonna grab a bandaid.”
“okay i’ll be hiding in the confession box trying not to burst into flames.” he laughed at your admission, he hadn’t expected you to be so embarrassed. it was probably the hottest thing he’d experienced and he thought you would own it, own that you were unabashedly seducing him. perhaps he’d misjudged your intentions all along. he came back to empty pews and he scoffed at the realization you were actually in the booth.
“what do you wish to confess?” he assumed the position, taking it as seriously as he could muster. part of him was wishing you would just tell him something substantial about yourself, he didn’t even know what you did for a living.
“how much time do you have?” charlie huffed a laugh at your words and you liked his laugh, it was airier and lighter than you expected. “i suppose ill start with the most recent sin, i embarrassed myself in front of a priest. surely that’s against some rule.”
“not entirely, embarrassment isn’t a sin.” he crossed his arms across his chest, endeared by your admission.
“right, what about lust?” he closed his eyes, he’d nearly gone half-soft but here you were painting deadly images in his mind. he felt like a teenage boy, rock hard and trying to will it down.
“lust, one of the seven deadly sins, but it can be forgiven. that is if you don’t act on it.”
“ah i’ve never been good at that part.”
“i can pray for you, kneel with me.” you did as he said, finding it hard to deny him of anything when his voice was so deep and commanding through the grated screen. you waited a beat and then another, breathing out in and out. you wondered if he was trying to remember a prayer or you were too far gone for one that readily came to mind. instead you heard him grumble under his breath, the church far too quiet for it to go unnoticed.
“fuck it.” you blinked your eyes in surprise, the wood digging into your knees as you waited another beat and the curtain to your side was drawn open and charlie stood in front of you. the sight of you kneeling nearly made him pass out, he swore he’d never been so hard in his life.
“tell me no.” his large hand, now with a bandage on one finger, slid to the side of your face, tilting your face up and up until your neck craned to meet his as he stepped closer. the heat of his body radiated against you. his thumb pushed at the plush of your bottom lip, the lip gloss was as sticky as he imagined, drawing your mouth open. your eyelashes fluttered at the gentle pressure, the coaxing, the slow sensuality of it all. you felt as if you would actually burst into flames, you wished you had worn a skirt. the denim of your jeans felt like hot coals against your skin, your underwear sticky with need. he could see the desire dripping from your gaze, but he needed to be sure.
“i can’t.” you whispered, like the obedient girl you were. and that was enough for him, he shoved the thumb fully between your lips, you hummed at the intrusion. the warm wet heat of your mouth made him whimper as you swirled around the finger sucking it like you wanted so desperately to do something else. your gaze finally moved from his eyes down the length of his body to his slacks, you raised up on your knees and you were eye level with his bulge. even in the dim light you could tell he was massive and your jaw would be sore tomorrow.
“father let me help you, please?” he huffed a breath at the name, there was no going back now though, he knew what he was doing making you kneel. he nodded at your request, removing his hand from your face so you could do as you pleased. the urgency in your motions made him scoff as you practically tore his zipper down and cupped his bulge. you fidgeted to get his length through and when you did you grinned at the sight. the shadow of his length covered your face and while you were intimidated and failing to hide it you still licked tentatively at the furious red tip.
“good girl.” he smiled down at you and you squeezed your thighs at his words, cleaning up all the precum along his slit. he was so big you didn’t think you’d get him even halfway down your throat, but you were never a quitter. your hand circled his base, one cupping his heavy balls as you licked along his shaft, veins protruding angrily and you kissed the tip one more time before flattening your tongue against the bottom of him, stretching your mouth as wide as you could to accommodate his girth. it was a struggle to attempt and you groaned at how hard it was. he chuckled at your frustration, he couldn’t deny how hot the whole scene was. he placed a hand on your head, guiding you down his length and you moaned at the feeling, shivering from how badly you needed him. you wished for some sense of relief and so you took one hand off his balls and tried to touch yourself. it was no use because charlie saw you, catching your wrist. he was gentle until then, forcing you down his length and you gagged. he was so heavy and thick you felt like you couldn’t breathe. the sensation made you nearly lightheaded and he finally released his grip letting you relax and slink back. you got into a comfortable rhythm then, pumping the length you couldn’t reach and swirling your tongue along his veins while moving up and down his length. he could tell he was close from the small groans and whimpers you could hear, his grip on your wrist tightening until he let go completely and pulled you off him. he tapped his cock against your tongue, debating if he should finish this now or give in fully to what he needed.
“tell me about your sin.” your eyes glazed over as he held his cock away from your mouth, letting you speak but making you mourn the heavy feeling. it took you a few seconds to remember what he was talking about.
“i’ve touched myself thinking about this man, but he’s devoted to someone else, to god. it never feels as good as i know he can make me feel.” your gaze traveling from his cock to his eyes, he jaw clenched as he looked away before leaning down and lifting you effortlessly out of the booth and into his hold. your legs looped around his waist and your arms around his neck. he was strong and solid against you, and you whined at the slightest hint of friction of your core bumping his belt buckle.
“we can attone later.” it’s all he says as he’s walking purposefully up the stairs and down a hallway, the walk is long or at least it feels that way when you’re nearly drunk from desire.
your back hits something soft, you realize it’s his bed as he’s climbing over you. you sit up, unbuttoning his shirt while he’s doing the same to your pesky jeans. his shirt is unbuttoned before he’s pulling them off you and you marvel at the sculpted muscles of his body. you're not sure if you’re drooling but you could be. he doesn’t bother to take your heels off, opting for your cardigan and crop top next. and you whine as you try to reach the buttons of his slacks, he tucked himself back in at some point and you don’t like the insinuation. charlie can’t help but laugh at you, maybe you weren’t the femme fatale he thought you were. “patience is a virtue.” he’s got you in your bra and panties splayed out under him and he relished in the sight of your lip gloss smudged. in the light of his room he could see all the sinful details of your body and he couldn’t wait to wreck every part he hadn’t touched yet. he kneels in front of you, shirt gone and his slacks unbuttoned, watching your chest rise and fall in anticipation as you maintain eye contact. he can tell you’re struggling to, the way your eyelids droop and narrow. when he’s finally bare in front of you, you’re looping your arms around his neck and pulling him down, finally kissing him and it’s as messy as you hoped for. all teeth and tongue, he bites your lip hard enough to draw blood and you groan into his mouth. he’s feral and you can’t help but arch into him, the hard planes of his body pressing so deliciously against you, you silently wish you could grind against his abs for some kind of friction. charlie pins your wrists above you with one of his hands, the other deftly unclasping your bra, an action that speaks volumes of his experience.
he doesn’t loosen his grip on your wrists even slightly, somehow in control despite the rabid look in his eyes, trailing his lips down your neck, biting and sucking likely leaving marks for tomorrow. you buck your hips into him, desperate for something, anything. he’s so hard against your core, sliding against your stomach. you can’t imagine he’ll fit, not with how far up your chest his length reaches. your thoughts are drawn back to the hot mouth that’s latching to your nipple, bitting and sucking like it’s the last thing he’ll do. charlie groans around your breast, massaging the other one with his hand rough palms creating a friction you try to get closer to. he’s slurping and biting so roughly you’re whining without realizing, tears pricking your eyes from the sharp pain. it’s so devastating you think it might be the way you want to go out.
and when you feel you might just come from his mouth on your breasts, he’s moving off you with a pop to his lips. it’s reminiscent of your actions downstairs and his cock twitches at the image. he leans back to take a look at his work releasing your wrists, bite marks and bruises littering your shaking chest and his lips curl in a smile. you think you’ve never seen him genuinely happy until now. he stays out of your reach kneeling between your spread legs and you almost complain until he’s peeling your underwear off you, it’s sticky and you revel in the cool air finally grazing your heat. charlie’s eyes are inexplicably drawn to how you’re nearly dripping onto his sheets, the light illuminating how badly you needed him, and from the looks of it it was just as long as he did. you can’t help the moan slip from your mouth when he’s biting his lips and spreading your folds to watch a fat wad of arousal drop down to your ass.
your pleasure ends when you see him leaning down for a taste, far too gone for any more foreplay. you need him and you need him now. you’re twitching when you slide your fingers into his hair, drawing your gaze to him. the hunger in his gaze doesn’t dissolve but the black of his eyes seems to soften when he sees your wrecked expression.
“please i need your cock, now please.” you’re begging and charlie can’t say no to that. he’s been aching for what feels like forever. he coos at your request, wiping the tears you didn’t even notice were falling and moves back on top of you, the satisfying weight against you calming whatever worries you had. but he doesn’t give you what you want. his fingers, still spreading your folds dip into you, there’s zero resistance from your sopping entrance, but the stretch makes your eyes roll back. “please.” you don’t want his fingers, you don’t care if he splits you in half at this point.
“relax baby,” he’s soothing you as best as he can when he just wants to sink into you. instead of focusing on where he can make you unravel, he scissors you open, getting impatient himself. you hum at the shift, bringing his lips to yours with a hand still threading through his hair. when he adds a third finger you groan at the stretch. “so tight darling, you won’t be able to take me.” he’s purring at you, teasing you. you can’t string the words together to dissuade him. when he’s satisfied you’re stretched enough he pulls back, licking his fingers and groaning at the taste. devine, just like he expected.
despite your wishes he’s leaning back, tapping his angry cock head against your clit, and you realize his words may be true. your legs slide over his shoulders like they were made to be there and when you look down at your entrance, panic creeps in.
“i don’t think it will fit.” he watches your eyes widen, your brows furrowed in genuine concern. it’s comical.
“where did my good girl go? you were just begging for it.” he’s teasing you, laughing at the way your wide eyes meet his. without you responding, he slips his head towards your entrance, catching on it and slipping away, fuck you were so tight. you whimpered at the feeling, trying to slink away from him but he tightens his hold on your hips. you realize, albeit far too late, your heels are still on and very much on his shoulders.
“it won’t fit.” you’re pleading with him, for what exactly you’re not sure. and then he’s leaning down, pressing the tops of your thighs back towards you, folding you in half, his lips not quite reaching yours.
“i’ll make it fit.” without warning he’s nudging at your entrance again, bullying his way in and you whine and jostle at the feeling. it’s too big, the stretch too much and you feel tears prick your eyes. he’s tearing you open, ruining your for anyone else and you can’t find it in you to care.
when the tip is finally in you breathe out in relief, there’s still an ache between your legs and you know you’re dripping onto his sheets but you think the worst is over. you don’t know you’re far from it. because while charlie is a man of faith, of perseverance and virtue he can’t hold back from how addictive your pussy is. the tight hug of your cunt around his tip drives him to ease his full length into you without warning. you paw at his chest, eyes rolling back as he pushes his way fully in nestling against your cervix and curving inside you. making you gush out more liquid than you knew you had. in fact, it’s so much you’re not sure if you’re squirting or you just came. the pain and pleasure mix into one and you think scream his name. you swear you can feel him in your ribcage and you choke out a breath.
he’s barely holding himself still when his balls finally rest against you. your walls are molding to him, and he think he might have died and gone to heaven. “so fucking tight, you were made for me.” a deep groan leaves him before he can hold back and you whine at the sound, clenching down on him and making him only more painfully turned on. you can feeling him throbbing inside, carving you out, the veins of his cock pressed against.
when you begin to squirm under him, still not used to his size but not in pain, he starts moving. every time he moves out he feels he has to push back in, your poor abused cunt is gripping him so tight, he feels bad even pulling out. the burn becomes so intense and every time his tip bumps your cervix you twitch beneath him. he presses a sweet kiss to your ankle over the strap of your heels before pressing his hips down and reaching even deeper. you cry out his name at the change in position and then he’s drilling into you like he wants you to be ruined forever. you don’t know where your orgasms start or end as he continuously fucks against your most sensitive spot, your mind numb from pleasure and the only word leaving your lips is his name and cries of pleasure.
he’s no better, he swears he might be addicted to you. the way you call out his name, the way you clench around him when he groans and how you seem to still get wetter from his thrusts. he hopes you don’t blame him when he feels himself getting close already, from the look on your face he realizes you might not be able to think at all. his pace is cruel, driving you into the mattress and likely denting the wooden floor.
your mind is fractured into a million tiny pieces; the only thing you know is that you need him. and when he’s close he’s pressing into you like he wants to get you pregnant, he’s breeding you, making you his and you come again. there’s no room for his cum inside you, so it’s leaking out the sides and he can’t have that, not after how good you’ve been, how well you take him, so he’s scooping it back up and fingering it inside you all the while pumping you full. you don’t know when you started crying but you can taste the saltiness of your tears when you pull him down for a kiss, savoring in the drag of his tongue along your teeth and you suck on it slightly, still hungry. he wishes the moment could last forever, but begrudgingly he pulls out and swallows down your whimper. how could he ever begin to atone for this? he had a feeling he would be begging for forgiveness for the rest of his life, there was no way he could forget you.
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