#i wanted to find a church where they did
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the-magic-school-bus · 1 year ago
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i hate it, i hate it, i hate it, i hate hearing that it’s still happening. that another family is a victim of these hypocritical churches that call their members “brothers and sisters”, only to abandon them when they need help the most. church’s that abandoned their members the second their life gets just a little messy, just a little uncomfortable, not absolutely perfect.
they’ll push us out, hide us away, because churches are supposed to perfect. not filled with broken imperfect people, who are there because they know they are broken and they know they need God.
i’m so sorry that you have to go through this horrible cycle with the hypocritical christian’s, i wish i could throw bibles at those hypocrites heads make them read it for once, make them understand how they are supposed actually be acting.
this is the reason i want to start a “not necessarily Christian organization” that helps the messy people, the ones in situations that make the church squirm in their seats, we might as well help each other, because God knows the “christians” are not going to
By the way, when I say that the American church has FAILED, this is what I'm talking about:
The email I sent to Focus on the Family a couple weeks ago, identifying information redacted:
Hello,
My name is [redacted] and I followed a link to one of your website's articles - about Biblical discipline - and saw the massive donation solicitation banner at the top of the website, saying any donations would go to families in need.
My mother is very much in need.
She is 61 and severely disabled, mentally and physically. In 2016 she had a stroke, which type has a 70% death rate and of the remaining 30%, the vast majority never recover any cognitive or physical function. She is a medical outlier in that she recovered both - through odds so astronomical it is a blatant miracle she survived at all - to some degree. But now her cognitive abilities are declining, as well as her mobility and eyesight: she is effectively 100% disabled.
She is also currently undergoing an eviction since she can no longer pay rent. She had planned to move into her car, but earlier this week it had an oil/engine failure that will require about $7,000 of work to repair. Her insurance would pay for it, save that she has a $1,000 deductible she cannot afford.
She gets $914 a month in disability.
I am a single mother of three boys five and under; my husband has walked out on us and does not pay child support and I cannot get any legal division to enforce it. I make $1,000 a month, and also do not own a car or have any sort of transportation. I order her groceries online and try to get small expenses for her when I can, and that is the most aid I am currently able to offer.
Right now she just needs her car repaired. But we do not have $1,000 for that deductible.
We have spent weeks calling every phone number and resource in the area and even the state. The churches send us to the government, the government sends us to the NGOs, the NGOs send us to the churches. No one helps.
Your website claims you help families. I looked under the "get help" tab and found nothing of any use, hence this email.
Will you help my family?
Sincerely,
~~~~
I got this in return:
Dear [Redacted],
Thank you for writing to Focus on the Family. Your willingness to share your concerns means a lot to us, and we want you to know we care about you, your dear mother, and your children. 
Our hearts are heavy after reading about the serious financial problems your disabled mother is facing right now. We’re especially concerned to hear that her car has broken down and she has no place to call home. Though we realize you’ve already asked for assistance from churches and a number of organizations, we recommend you contact the Salvation Army. You can visit their website at: Salvation Army: Housing and Homeless Services. We’d also like to mention three more online sources of information: National Coalition for the Homeless,  2-1-1 Get Help,  Catholic Charities USA. We can’t guarantee that they will be able to provide the help you need, nor can we say with certainty that they consistently uphold Christian values and ethics. Nevertheless, we think it would be worthwhile to find out what services are available. Please note that our mentioning these organizations should not be taken as an endorsement by our ministry.
Be assured we’re praying for the Lord to comfort your mother, provide for her many needs, and lead her to a safe place to live. We’re also asking God to surround you and your three young sons with caring people who will offer their support and help you in practical ways. 
Along with praying for you, we invite you to call the Christian counselors on our staff if you think it might be helpful to discuss your concerns with caring professionals. They might be able to offer additional suggestions and useful referral information. To reach them, please call 1-855-771-HELP (4357) any weekday between 6:00 A.M. and 8:00 P.M. (MT). Someone on our staff will ask for your name and phone number in order to arrange for a counselor to return your call as soon as they’re able. This service is available at no cost to you.
[Redacted], we understand you contacted our ministry because you saw a banner on our website indicating that all donations to our ministry are used to help families in need.  In order to provide clarification, we need to explain that the purpose of our ministry is to respond to the spiritual, emotional, and psychological needs of individuals and families. We do this by praying, providing books and other resources, airing broadcasts that address the serious issues many people face, and offering one free consultation with a professional Christian counselor on our staff. The financial contributions we receive are used to accomplish these objectives.
While it’s true that our ministry has been privileged on occasion to provide financial assistance to those experiencing hardships, our capacity to do this is limited as we are primarily a media ministry. Unfortunately, as much as we would like to, we’re not always able to offer monetary aid to the many individuals and families whose needs are brought to our attention. We’re so sorry to disappoint you.
Thanks again for writing to us, [Redacted]. God bless you and your loved ones, and may He always be the strength of your heart and your refuge.
[Redacted]
Focus on the Family
~~~~
I'll hand it to the Catholics. They do try. But their assistance is focused primarily on Catholics - quite understandable - and within their own parishes - equally understandable.
You might as well ask a brick wall for help as any Protestant church. Actually the brick wall probably at least won't - more or less literally - slam a door in your face.
I know good and well that my mother, my family, is not the only one in such dire straits. There is nowhere to turn - least of all our 'brothers' and 'sisters'.
One of these days the leaders of all these churches - these vastly wealthy mega churches and the haughty local churches and all of them - are going to have to answer to Christ about all the blood on their hands of their own people they left to starve and freeze and die in the streets.
(I'd bet good money - if I had any - that they'll have the money to put on a Christmas pageant this year.)
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thattheater-kid · 1 month ago
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Random Innerworld Conversations
*while in church*
Charlie: Why are we here? Neither of us are Catholic. I don’t even believe in God.
Georgie: Ain’t you the Devil’s daughter?
Charlie: Yeah, so what?
Georgie: How’re you gonna say God ain’t real when He’s your grandad?
Charlie: Spite.
Georgie: You know what? Fair enough.
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starswallowingsea · 4 months ago
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i know its normal to like. tell your parents that you're moving and got a new job but why do i feel like i have to ask permission to fucking. apply for jobs outside of michigan
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discocactusblogs · 10 months ago
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🕯️
#how to keep hopeful when you feel like God's not going to give you the one thing youre hoping for#how to keep from being angry at God because you just don't see movement in your life in this one area#yet when you pray for God's will#He assures you you're where He wants you#I have never wanted this thing before and now that I'm older I find myself longing for it#It's hard to listen to my parents when their only answer to everything is “pray about it” as if I havent been doing so for years#It's hard to take their whole “be patient” speech seriously when my mom married at 21#My dad only slightly understands but I feel like its different at the same time#I was perfectly fine in church until the Pastor told a story about a married couple and the whole church was laughing while I nearly cried#I am the only single lady in my church on top of the only single person in my age group#I'm not even sure why God gave me this desire for marriage and a family#I feel like “God why would you give me this burning desire to have a family and marriage that glorifies and honors you if you weren't going#to give me said thing?“#I'm asking God to help me enjoy being single but at the same time I feel myself starting to grow bitter and thats something I dont want.#I know not everyone is called to be married and thats what's got me messed up and angry because if I'm not called to marriage#why did He give me the desire for it? I feel like that's just cruel and I know God isn't mean or cruel#also sorry Narni for stealing the way you rant lol#I feel bad everytime I post a rant and using tags seems to work better so I don't feel so bad
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bogology · 10 months ago
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so true bestie all the things i like are connected to each other even if they aren't. they are now
#i've connected the dots. corpus christi carol maze dance#did he just make this up based on halliwell classifying this is the key as a game? or another text?#or is this like his own observation... unclear.#i have always been curious about the origin of this is the key and halliwell says literally nothing about it#i want to believe....#🧃#okay i did find a description of the gestures for a different version of this is the key...#why don't they describe them in actual published collections of nursery rhymes though#they're important!!!#they just assume you're british and grew up with this 😔#i do remember the first time i heard of it was in a story where someone was singing it while they were working#so there were no gestures to go with it in the story it was just a children's song#and i looked it up and looked into it because of that and couldn't find anything about it other than the words#but i did think it sounded like there Should be a physical component because it reminded me of here is the church here is the steeple#i do like the impression it gives on its own that it's missing something...#and i don't think here is the church here is the steeple would sound as enigmatic if you recited it without doing the gestures#anyway the gestures that were described were just hand gestures but he says 'maze dances of this kind' in the footnote as if#the dance for this is the key were literally physically a maze dance. rather than the lyrics being labyrinthine + there also being a 'dance#like girl could you please fucking elaborate. could anyone. ever. describe anything
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totentnz · 1 year ago
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that one gig in dogtown in the dodgy clinic? with the woman just trying to find her brother? the woman that v shot? killed? not because she deserved to die but because v was hired to protect the doctor? the doctor that clearly didnt care for the woman's grief? a kind of grief that v fears the most? one that she understands? help me
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badjokesbyjeff · 9 months ago
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A young man comes to the confessional: "Forgive me father, I have sinned. I was with a woman of dubious morals." 
The pastor asks, "Is that you, Jimmy?" "Yes, it is I, father." "And who was this woman you talk about?" "I can't tell you that, father. I wouldn't want to sully her name." "I'll find out sooner or later, so it doesn't matter if you tell me now. Was it that girl Kathy Miller?" "I mustn't say." "It was Mary Smith, wasn't it?" "I am not telling." "Sally Rogers?" "I will be silent as a grave." "How about Betty Teller, then?" "Father, do not ask, I won't betray her." "Then it must have been Peggy Jones?" "Please, father, I vowed to remain silent." The priest sighs reluctantly. "You truly are determined, Jimmy. I almost have to admire you. But you have sinned and you have to do penance for it. You are not allowed to show your face in this church for three weeks! Now go in peace." Jimmy returns to his bench where his best friend greets him. "Well, how was it?" "Great!" "What did you get?" "Three weeks of vacation and five good tips."
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trans-axolotl · 4 months ago
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also in regards to that last article about varied ways of thinking about psychosis/altered states that don't just align with medical model or carceral psychiatry---I always love sharing about Bethel House and their practices of peer support for schizophrenia that are founded on something called tojisha kenkyu, but I don't see it mentioned as often as things like HVN and Soteria House.
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ID: [A colorful digital drawing of a group of people having a meeting inside a house while it snows outside.]
"What really set the stage for tōjisha-kenkyū were two social movements started by those with disabilities. In the 1950s, a new disability movement was burgeoning in Japan, but it wasn’t until the 1970s that those with physical disabilities, such as cerebral palsy, began to advocate for themselves more actively as tōjisha. For those in this movement, their disability is visible. They know where their discomfort comes from, why they are discriminated against, and in what ways they need society to change. Their movement had a clear sense of purpose: make society accommodate the needs of people with disabilities. Around the same time, during the 1970s, a second movement was started by those with mental health issues, such as addiction (particularly alcohol misuse) and schizophrenia. Their disabilities are not always visible. People in this second movement may not have always known they had a disability and, even after they identify their problems, they may remain uncertain about the nature of their disability. Unlike those with physical and visible disabilities, this second group of tōjisha were not always sure how to advocate for themselves as members of society. They didn’t know what they wanted and needed from society. This knowing required new kinds of self-knowledge.
As the story goes, tōjisha-kenkyū emerged in the Japanese fishing town of Urakawa in southern Hokkaido in the early 2000s. It began in the 1980s when locals who had been diagnosed with psychiatric disorders created a peer-support group in a run-down church, which was renamed ‘Bethel House’. The establishment of Bethel House (or just Bethel) was also aided by the maverick psychiatrist Toshiaki Kawamura and an innovative social worker named Ikuyoshi Mukaiyachi. From the start, Bethel embodied the experimental spirit that followed the ‘antipsychiatry’ movement in Japan, which proposed ideas for how psychiatry might be done differently, without relying only on diagnostic manuals and experts. But finding new methods was incredibly difficult and, in the early days of Bethel, both staff and members often struggled with a recurring problem: how is it possible to get beyond traditional psychiatric treatments when someone is still being tormented by their disabling symptoms? Tōjisha-kenkyū was born directly out of a desperate search for answers.
In the early 2000s, one of Bethel’s members with schizophrenia was struggling to understand who he was and why he acted the way he did. This struggle had become urgent after he had set his own home on fire in a fit of anger. In the aftermath, he was overwhelmed and desperate. At his wits’ end about how to help, Mukaiyachi asked him if perhaps he wanted to kenkyū (to ‘study’ or ‘research’) himself so he could understand his problems and find a better way to cope with his illness. Apparently, the term ‘kenkyū’ had an immediate appeal, and others at Bethel began to adopt it, too – especially those with serious mental health problems who were constantly urged to think about (and apologise) for who they were and how they behaved. Instead of being passive ‘patients’ who felt they needed to keep their heads down and be ashamed for acting differently, they could now become active ‘researchers’ of their own ailments. Tōjisha-kenkyū allowed these people to deny labels such as ‘victim’, ‘patient’ or ‘minority’, and to reclaim their agency.
Tōjisha-kenkyū is based on a simple idea. Humans have long shared their troubles so that others can empathise and offer wisdom about how to solve problems. Yet the experience of mental illness is often accompanied by an absence of collective sharing and problem-solving. Mental health issues are treated like shameful secrets that must be hidden, remain unspoken, and dealt with in private. This creates confused and lonely people, who can only be ‘saved’ by the top-down knowledge of expert psychiatrists. Tōjisha-kenkyū simply encourages people to ‘study’ their own problems, and to investigate patterns and solutions in the writing and testimonies of fellow tōjisha.
Self-reflection is at the heart of this practice. Tōjisha-kenkyū incorporates various forms of reflection developed in clinical methods, such as social skills training and cognitive behavioural therapy, but the reflections of a tōjisha don’t begin and end at the individual. Instead, self-reflection is always shared, becoming a form of knowledge that can be communally reflected upon and improved. At Bethel House, members found it liberating that they could define themselves as ‘producers’ of a new form of knowledge, just like the doctors and scientists who diagnosed and studied them in hospital wards. The experiential knowledge of Bethel members now forms the basis of an open and shared public domain of collective knowledge about mental health, one distributed through books, newspaper articles, documentaries and social media.
Tōjisha-kenkyū quickly caught on, making Bethel House a site of pilgrimage for those seeking alternatives to traditional psychiatry. Eventually, a café was opened, public lectures and events were held, and even merchandise (including T-shirts depicting members’ hallucinations) was sold to help support the project. Bethel won further fame when their ‘Hallucination and Delusion Grand Prix’ was aired on national television in Japan. At these events, people in Urakawa are invited to listen and laugh alongside Bethel members who share stories of their hallucinations and delusions. Afterwards, the audience votes to decide who should win first prize for the most hilarious or moving account. One previous winner told a story about a failed journey into the mountains to ride a UFO and ‘save the world’ (it failed because other Bethel members convinced him he needed a licence to ride a UFO, which he didn’t have). Another winner told a story about living in a public restroom at a train station for four days to respect the orders of an auditory hallucination. Tōjisha-kenkyū received further interest, in and outside Japan, when the American anthropologist Karen Nakamura wrote A Disability of the Soul: An Ethnography of Schizophrenia and Mental Illness in Contemporary Japan (2013), a detailed and moving account of life at Bethel House. "
-Japan's Radical Alternative to Psychiatric Diagnosis by Satsuki Ayaya and Junko Kitanaka
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alexiroflife · 5 months ago
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Hello! May I request an angsty toji fic where reader finds out she's pregnant (post megumi) and she knows toji doesn't want anymore children so she just kinda leaves with little to no explanation? Maybe just a small note saying things aren't working out. It's up to you if it will be a hurt/comfort. Idk you don't have to do this request I don't want to overload you! I seriously love your writing. The way you right the character just warms my heart. I especially love ur hiding an Injury fic it was SO SO SO GOOD. 🩶🤍🖤
“promise”
toji fushiguro x reader
Synopsis: see above
to sum it up: you think it’s better to run away than to be the one to get hurt
WC: 5,668
Warning(s): angst, suggestive themes, yelling, pregnancy, mentions of abortion
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You stare down at the plastic tube clutched in your trembling hands in awe, eyes blown with shocked grief as you peer closer to get a better look, as though those two bright pink lines could have been a trick of your vision.
Unfortunately, however, your vision remains just as crystal clear as it always has been. As you stand in your cramped apartment bathroom, illuminated by a flickering fluorescent gaze shining down from above, horror befalls you.
You’re pregnant.
You should have known sooner when you began feeling queasy every morning, taking trips to either your or Toji’s toilet to hurl out the contents of whatever swam inside your stomach. You always tried to be silent if Toji was around, for he slept like a dog that could not be woken even if a meteor struck earth, and you had been remarkably exhausted. You aren’t even sure if there is a word to describe how sluggish your entire mind and body had been feeling, but you wanted to rule out the very obvious answer to your problems before exploring it.
You begin to panic, your heart pounding in your ears and throat and every inch of your body you could feel the pulse, eyes blurry over the positive test. You’re conflicted. You don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, you would have been jumping for joy to learn that you are starting a new life with your boyfriend, to step into a new chapter of your lives and to provide his children with another sibling.
But hell, the celebration is far too naive and implausible to be had. The sage eyed man has told you time and time again that he does not wish to have anymore kids, that the ones he has are enough and he is not equipped financially or mentally to care for another brat. In honor of those wishes, you’re on the pill, and consequently, Toji has taken the opportunity to plow his load inside of you time after time after time.
And you really, truly should have known that with Toji’s uniquely abled body, what was meant to serve as a barrier and a means of contraception did not work.
You feel like throwing up. What would Toji say? What would he do? What are you supposed to do? Should you tell him, fill him in on what’s going on to risk rejection and abandonment, a nasty habit that Toji had to work to rid himself of when he met you? Would he even care? Would he listen?
You know Toji to be a very tough man, despite the softened interior he attempts to hide in others’ company that is only displayed for you and for his kids. If he has always been adamant about one thing, it’s been to never have kids again, to focus on where he fucked up before and to pour his attention into the little family he’s grown, the one that he has now.
His voice echoes through your head like the gong of a church bell striking upon the ear’s of a sinner.
“Hell, I already got my hands full tryna get Megumi through his teenage years. What the hell is another child gonna do for us?”
“That shit’s fuckin’ expensive. Not to mention, I’d have to baby proof the house again. That’s another expense.”
“If I was capable of givin’ you y’er own, I would, doll. But I ain’t cut out for it. You know that.”
You don’t even know why he would stress the matter so often. You suppose he’s caught the way your eyes linger on a mother tossing their giggling baby up and down into the air, innocent pools of joy beaming down at her each time it reaches the air and lands in her secure hold. Or maybe he’s seen the way you care so deeply for Toji’s kids as though they are your own, despite telling you when you first got involved with each other that he did not expect you to step into their lives in anyway - and yet, you have done that and more. You know how the kids must struggle each day with the trauma of losing their mother so early on, and you never wanted them to think that you were trying to step in as her replacement, but you love them so clearly, as much as you love the man who created them.
Which leads you to your next concern. How would the kids react?
It’s one thing for you, as their father’s girlfriend, to wander into their lives and help navigate them their teenage hood alongside the dark haired man, but to introduce an entire other child only leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
They may be crushed. They me turn to hate you, to despise how you have contaminated the life they have worked so hard to rebuild after numerous tragedies. And would Toji agree with them? Would he turn his nose up to you, that scowl of his melting over his harsh features as he shuns you just as he shunned every other woman who came after his wife and before you. Would he leave you? Would he kick you out of the world that has become your own because you failed to live up to your promise, though it technically isn’t your fault that you are pregnant now but it feels as though it is?
You can not stand the thought, of the man you love turning his once loving gaze stone upon the sight of you, of him pushing you further away, permanently, in the same manner that he tried to when he realized that he was falling in love with you, of watching Megumi and Tsumiki turn their backs to you as though the past four years of your lives had never happened, banning you from their acceptance forever more.
Tears well in your gaze, interfering with your vision. This can not be happening, you think to yourself, everything has been going so well, and now this? This is going to ruin your relationship with Toji for good. Even if you were not in a committed relationship with him, you assume that the idea of any woman getting impregnated by Toji would have been thrown away. You would be thrown away, just like all the others who gave Toji their bodies but not their hearts.
Not the way you have.
Your heart clenches thinking of just how much you love Toji and the kids, of how you would be willing to lay down your own life for the sake of them as Toji swears that he would for you all in return. Even so, despite the commitment to you that a man who swore never to be committed to accustomed, this would be going too far.
…You’re not even sure if he would love you anymore.
Now that you’re pregnant with his child, a child he never meant to have with you, you assume you will mean nothing to him any longer. In his eyes, you will simply become the slut that he took a chance on by a whim, carrying something he would never call his own. You believe the old Toji will resurface, the one who claimed not to care, the one who shoved women out of his bedroom before the sun rose in the sky, the one who often failed to remember to pick his kids up from school, the one who would no longer meet you at eye level but look down upon you, frown upon you for being so clumsy.
You know Toji is the one who did this, but this still feels like it is your doing. Like somehow, you trapped him and he now has no choice but to break free from the steel cage you have barred around him with your conception.
Your fingers clutch over the plastic, your eyes scrunching closed to release a fresh set of tears that cascade over your cheeks and onto the test. You can feel yourself mourning your relationship already, you can feel it slipping through your fingers, see it fading in the distance until it becomes nothing but a bittersweet memory that you can not determine as reality or a figment of your imagination any longer.
You tilt your head, bringing the test to your forehead as you think, grieve, cry. You mull over your options; you could hide this from Toji, get an abortion and never think of it again or you could tell Toji and lose him forever.
You open your bleary eyes, lashes decked with dewy tears, as another idea dawns upon you. You could leave, leave before Toji and the kids have a chance to leave you.
It’s a cruel thought, you think, especially abandoning those children without any proper explanation for them, but what else are you meant to do? You’d be doing them all a favor if anything by taking your leave without them having to be plagued by the knowledge of your unplanned pregnancy, of what they may view as a scheme to destroy their family in your new baby’s wake.
The thought kills you to even entertain. You had promised those kids that you weren’t going anywhere, that you’d stay with them for as long as they allowed you… but this is different. This is not what any of you had in your cards, how you believed your futures to go. Toji wants simplicity at home while he works through chaos through his occupation. He wants security, warmth, safety for you, Megumi, Tsumiki, and no one else. He would never welcome another child. You believe he’d be caught dead before approving of your pregnancy.
And therefore, you know what you have to do.
After taking a few more tests to ensure that the readings are accurate, which they are, you pledge to walk away. You pledge to leave the only man you’ve ever truly loved, the strongest family you’ve known, and the slim possibility that despite Toji’s wishes, he may accept you.
But you don’t want to take that chance and risk the humiliation and unplanned heartbreak. You’d much rather take matters into your own hands, and plan the shattering of your soul yourself.
You don’t sleep all night, for you’re too busy drafting about twenty different letters to Toji. Crumpled loosleaf paper litters the floor beside your bed as you try to think of how to best write down everything you want to say. You go through pages and pages until you are finally satisfied with the result, and the next morning, you slip the envelope into his mail slot and prepare to pack your life away.
It is late Sunday morning when Toji rises from his slumber. The first thing he does is lean over the sheets and drape his arm toward his nightstand to read your daily good morning text - only he finds there isn’t one. With pinched brows, he takes his phone to unlock it and visit your contact. Nothing.
The time reads 12:35 pm. Normally, you’re up and at it or even banging down his door by then to wake him. Maybe you’re just sleeping in?
He goes to give your cell a call, but nothing. Not only that, but your phone is also on do not disturb mode. His gut immediately swells with the suspicion that something is wrong. The dark haired assassin supposes he’s going to pay you a visit this afternoon as soon as he checks on the kids to ensure that they are alright.
His bedroom door opens with a creak, and he calls out to the teens gruffly through a yawn. When they don’t respond, he’s truly growing concerned.
He rounds the corner to prepare to head for their rooms when he finds Tsumiki and Megumi at the dining table. His brows furrow, his pace slowing as he takes in their faces. Tsumiki’s lips are pressed together tightly and the muscles in her face are scrunched as though she is about to cry, while Megumi stares ahead with empty eyes and a hardened exterior.
Toji frowns with quirked brows, approaching his kids. “What’s wrong with you two?”
His brunette daughter looks up at him with glassy eyes and wrinkled chin, lashes fluttering while Megumi does not bother to look at his father. Instead, he brings Toji’s attention to a torn envelope and a thick packet of papers pressed beneath the sixteen year old’s palm. Wordlessly, Megumi slides it toward him, brows slanting.
Toji, perplexed, looks between the papers and his children’s troubled faces. What is this letter? Overdue taxes? An eviction notice? That can’t be possible, because you had ensured that Toji and the kids’ place was secure long ago.
He crunches the papers in his hands and picks them up to read. The first thing that catches his eye is your scribbling handwriting, and the following words that send his heart plummeting to his ass:
This isn’t working out.
Toji whips his head up, baffled, and when he meets Megumi’s gaze again, his eyes are ablaze with resentment.
“What the hell did you do?” he growls.
The green eyed man is not even thinking before he’s dialing Shiu’s number, asking him to watch the kids for the next hour or so, and running out of the apartment after throwing rather unconvincing words of assurance over his shoulder to his kids, who are still with disbelief - Tsumiki with devastation and Megumi with rage, for surely his father pushed you away.
Toji does not bother finding a ride, electing to run to your place which is only a few blocks away. You two were just discussing moving in with one another, combining households, and this is what you spring onto him? Not even for him to stumble across first, but his kids who look up to you and love you like their own mother?
Oh, he’s fuming, a rush of emotions taking over his mind as it fuels his speed. The letter you wrote is still crunched in his fist, whipping through the air as he makes his way to you.
Dear Toji,
This is not working out.
But before you rampage and get angry with me, please let me explain. Let me explain how much I love you, how much those kids mean to me, and how every day I wake up I want to be greeted by all of your smiling faces. For the rest of time, forever. You are undoubtedly the only man for me, and I truly believe that. I know you may think I’m bullshitting because of how the beginning of this letter contradicts what im saying now, but it’s true. I have never loved another person the way I love you, and while it scared me at first when you were so stubborn and full of anger that you misdirected onto me, I stayed and I waited and I helped you and I’ve loved you through every single moment, ever week, every month, and every year. You brought purpose back into my life, and I can picture you scoffing because you’d say the same, but I mean it. You, Tsumiki, and Megumi are the best things that have ever happened to me. I love you all so much.
But in this case, that love is not enough.
I hate to be doing this to you, to the kids, but I have no other choice. Things aren’t going the way they used to, and it’s not your fault but mine. I’m the reason. And it is tearing me apart to know that and simultaneously know what I have to do in order to keep you and the kids happy. Stable. I wish I could explain to you more why I am doing this, but I can’t. Not just because I am dying to picture you reading this, but because I truly can not say. I do not want to ruin you guys’ image of me. While I think that’s a selfish thing to say because who knows how me leaving is going to hurt you all, you would not understand even if you knew the reason behind this.
By the time you are done reading this, I will be gone. I’m going away because as long as I am not with you all, I can’t stay here anymore. I am staying with my mother while I get my travel plans arranged, because I know how you worry when you do not know where I am or if im safe. I should be gone by Friday.
Please do not come see me. I have made my decision, and you will only be hurting us more by trying to stop me. I won’t be stopped.
Kiss and hug and apologize to Megumi and Tsumiki for me. I hope you find someone who fills the role of their mother, someone who knows how Megumi likes to do his homework in the silence of his room with no music or anything, completely isolated so he can focus. Someone who knows how to fix Tsumiki’s eggs properly - to add extra butter to the sides when you fry them so the edges get crispier. Someone who won’t try to feed Gumi’a demidogs because he hates when people assume they can coddle up to them upon first introduction. Someone who cares for the wholly the way I do and always will.
And you. I know how stubborn you are. I know how angry you probably are at me right now, and I will miss that about you, but please do not let that interfere with the possibility of falling in love again. Beneath the layers of grit, standoffishness, and indifference, you are a man with a big heart. For me. For your kids. For those you love and seek to protect.
You say you aren’t a good man, and while that may be true to you, you are an amazing partner and you’ve already become an amazing parent. I’ve seen you grow, and I am so in love with you and so proud of you. I know you’ll be okay without me. It maybe take some time, but you’ll adjust to what’s best. I promise.
With all the love that could possibly be harbored in this world, you are everything to me and that is why I have to go. I wish you every happiness this planet can offer you, and I know that without me, you can begin to find joy again.
Love,
Your doll
You had believed to time this perfectly, for you know that Toji usually does not wake until one, so soon as you are finishing up packing, you are trudging down the stairs to the leasing office to inform them that you will be moving.
You push open the door to the first floor, the breeze hitting you gently, and you round the corner only to be blocked by the last person you wanted to run into during this time.
Your eyes widen as you look up, the burly figure you have grown oh so familiar with over the years heaving as though enraged, ivy eyes crowding over slim pupils as Toji glares down at you, an image of indescribable fury.
Your heart drops and your words die in your throat. “T-Toji?” you whisper, horrified of an outburst. You are rattled by fear, having been so unprepared to walk into this. You did not put it past him to chase you down. But you figured that you’d be at your parents by the time he woke. Then, you could have at least told them to tell him off at the door.
But no. Instead, here he is, six feet and then some of bulking mass as he takes quick, deep breaths that expand the entirety of his chest.
You shift. “What are you doing here-“
“What the fuck is this?”
Toji swiftly, yet aggressively, lifts the papers in his hands, now damaged by his travels and his grip, shaking it firmly with the question. You gulp, lowering your eyes.
“Toji, I told you not to come…”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he swears firmly, and you jump, looking to see if anyone is around to hear you, as the two of you are standing outside your complex.
“We shouldn’t be- let’s just go inside,” you go to grab his arm, but he tears it away. He stares at you as though you have burned him, singed the heart in his chest from the inside out, and he is so unforgiving. So unforgiving before he hears directly from your mouth what this is about.
“I’m not doin’ shit until you tell me what the fuck this is, (Y/n),” he demands, his hand moving the papers about passionately with his speech, and you feel your heart hammering again. This is not how things were supposed to go. You are not supposed to be seeing him right now. “Cause I refuse- I fuckin’ refuse to believe that you’re breaking up with me.”
Your eyes gloss over as you look down at your feet, unsure of what to do or how to handle this confrontation. You can’t do this. You can’t, it’s too much. It’s too hard.
“…I am,” you mumble.
Toji steps forward, leaning down to get a peek of your face, his expression so angry that it worries you. “What?”
“I said… I am.”
“Uh uh, you better say that shit with your chest if you can write a whole damn letter about it,” he growls, fucking further as you continue to turn away. “Look at me,” he barks, and you cringe.
“Toji, don’t yell at me!” you shout back.
“What else do’ya want me to do, huh?” he throws his hands up. “How else do you expect me to react to this bullshit?! You’re leavin’ me? After everythin’ we been through, after everythin’ you and the kids’ve been through, you’re leavin? Are you fuckin’ serious?”
He takes a swift glance at the papers, the very sight sending him into a spiral, before he’s heatedly looking back down at you.
“I don’t buy this shit for one second. No. You’re not leavin’. Not in this world, or the next.”
“I am, Toji, the quicker you accept that, the easier it’ll be for everyone!”
“Easy?” he winces as though the prospect pains him. “You call this shit easy? You call up and tryin’ to abandon me easy? You call the kids waking up to your letter and reading it at the table before I saw it easy?”
Your face falls. “…what?”
“Yeah. You fuckin’ heard me,” he sneers. “Megumi and Tsumiki read this shit first. First thing in the morning, they see a letter about how the woman they love is leavin’ ‘em, just like their mom did, and for what?”
You close your eyes, his words stinging you as they cut through. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true, ain’t it? Y’er leavin’ us, (Y/n), and you didn’t even have the decency to say why!”
Guilt crowds you, like a blanket of darkness consuming you from overhead, and as Toji stands before you completely torn apart by your letter, you see the fear in his eyes, the sadness, the unspoken plea for you not to go.
You try your best to keep your composure as you turn away again. “I told you, I can’t tell you.”
“Fuck that,” he lifts the letter and tosses it to the ground with a thud. You gasp, watching it slam to the concrete pavement.
“Toji!” you exclaim.
“You think you can just leave without me comin’ to hunt you down and see your face so I can figure out what the hell is goin’ on? You must not know me at all.”
“Why do you always have to be so aggressive about everything?!”
“Of all fuckin’ things, (Y/n), I think I got a right to be aggressive about this. You were gonna leave without sayin’ goodbye!” he tosses his arm out to the side with the exclamation, brows twisting and teeth bearing. “Is that what our relationship means t’ya? You think you can just toss us aside?”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” you beg, a lump forming in your throat as the two of you stand face to face, arguing without a car about who will see you.
“Then tell me,” he shouts. “Cause you’re not givin’ me shit to go off of!”
“I told you already, I can’t,” your lips quiver.
“Then our relationship is nothing to you.”
“No, Toji.”
“Clearly it ain’t, cause I’d think it’d be worth an explanation if you’re runnin’ away!” you frown and shake your head, turning to walk back into the complex when Toji cuts you off, moving in your way. “You don’t think I know you? You don’t think I see it all over your face that somethin’s got you scared, and y’re takin’ off because of it? You think I don’t know what that looks like, (Y/n)? I did that shit. I did it all the damn time before I met you, and hell, I tried to run then but you wouldn’t let me, so what the hell makes you think I’m gonna let you now?”
“This is different,” you say shortly, afraid to reveal the tremble of your voice to the man before you. You keep your gaze down as you try to go around him again, but to no avail. He steps in your path. “Stop!”
“I ain’t stoppin’,” he says gravely, keeping his eyes to yours though you try to avoid contact with them. “Not until you spit it out. I’ll be damned if I got another broken home cause y’re fuckin’ scared.”
“I said stop!” you try to find some bass in your voice, but against your will, it falters when you yell. Toji eyes you carefully, reaching his hand out to grip your shoulder and steady you into place.
You scoff, attempting to pull away, but it’s no use. The dark haired man is everywhere, keeping you from walking away.
“You talk to me like the grown ass woman you are,” he tells you sternly, stepping in. “You use that voice I know you have, and don’t you ever let me catch you writin’ a letter to me about how you wanna break up instead of comin’ to talk to me. Y’understand?”
You exhale shakily, lips pressing together and brows curling. “I can’t.”
“Y’re still not tellin’ me why you think that.”
“Because I can’t, Toji. I can’t tell you. It’ll- it’ll fuck up everything!” you break, and Toji feels the pit in his stomach shift as he looks over your aggrieved expression, depicting the same exact things he feels.
“(Y/n),” he calls your name firmly, the sound of it on his tongue only inspiring the urge to cry more. You continue to shake your head though Toji isn’t exactly speaking, and his green eyes wander you with frustrated concern. “Y’scared of what I’ll do if you tell me?”
You freeze, slowly peeling your eyes to look at his, his face tense with grief. You stare at him for a moment, mouth gaping like a fish as all of your insecurities that talked you toward this ledge run through your mind once more.
“Don’t look surprised,” he says. “I know you like the back of my hand, and I know that you knew I’d be over here to stop ya.”
Your frown deepens, and this time as you look at him, you see every second of your future that you were quick to stomp dow. You see the unbridled, unfiltered love he holds for you as well as the blood curdling fear of letting you go.
“You have to understand,” you whimper. “I know how you’ll react, I- I can’t do this to you. You have to let me go.”
“What the hell could be so horrifyin’ in that head of yours to make you think that I won’t stick with ya through hell and high water?” he grits out, searching your swollen hues of (e/c) hesitation. “You’d do the same for me.”
“I know, but-“
“There’s nothin’ else to say. I ain’t leavin’ until you spill, and when you do, y’re comin’ with me.”
You look at him, pained. It’s a trap, you think. If Toji only knew, he’d be running for the hills instead of trying to track you down.
“Out with it, now.”
You can’t. You can’t tell him. He’ll leave you, he’ll reject you, he’ll turn you away, he’ll never let you see the kids again.
“(Y/n)!”
“I’m pregnant!”
The earth seems to freeze and time seems to slow. You scrunch your eyes, anticipating the worst to come as Toji takes in your words, his tensed expression melting slowly.
You don’t open your eyes to see his reaction. You keep your head ducked and your fists closed as the white noise of nature flutters into relevance. You’re trembling, terrified, and Toji can not move but instead proceeds to stare at you, stunned.
His words about not wanting any more kids run through your mind again as you await his response, and the suspense kills you as you do. You can feel his grip on your shoulder slacken before tightening again, and you are terrified.
He’s going to leave you.
You are quick to step away when the sentiment arises once more, Toji’s hand falling from you arm. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, still unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, I know that you don’t want any more kids. I know, an I thought we were being careful, but- I took five tests. They’re all positive.”
“You’re pregnant?” he echoes, and you still. You knew it. You knew this would happen.
“I told you, Toji,” you exhale. “I told you that I couldn’t tell you, and now everything’s a mess.”
He twitches. “Hold on-“
“Don’t tell me all of a sudden you want kids,” you snap. “I know how strongly you feel about it.”
“So instead of talkin’ to me, you were gonna leave? Knocked up? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“What other choice do I have?!” you cry. “You don’t want more kids, and if I kept it, it would only be a nuisance to you. And Megumi and Tsumiki?”
He scrunches his face. “What about ‘em?”
“How do you think they’d feel if the woman you’re dating after their mother died surprised them with a new baby? They’d be crushed!” you say shakily as salty tears well in your eyes again. “I can’t overstep your boundaries. I just can’t. It’s easier for me to go.”
“And do what, (Y/n)? Raise a kid on your own without any help?”
“I can’t bare you leaving me!” you suddenly confess, tear striking past your cheek.
Toji examines you and frowns. “What are y’talkin’ about? You’re tryin’ to leave me!”
“So I can prevent the inevitable from happening,” you huff. “I’m okay with it. I’ve made peace with everything. That’s why you need to just let me go-“
“After everythin’, you think I’d throw you away because you’re pregnant with my kid?” Toji says incredulously. You falter, for you had been so sure of his reaction before. “You think that low of me?”
“No, but I want you to have what you want.”
“What I want is you, you fuckin’ idiot,” he hisses. “All I ever wanted was you, and I can’t fuckin’ believe you’re tryin’ to take that away from me.”
You furrow your brows, confused. “…You’re not mad?”
“Girl, I’m livid,” he scowls. “Not about the damn kid, but because you assumed what I would say before comin’ to me.”
“Toji, you have to understand that I was trying to look out for you.”
“There’s not lookin’ out for me or those kids or makin’ them happy if you’re gone, (Y/n),” he bites. “Who th’fuck put that idea in your head?”
You stammer, tears proceeding to flow down your face as you reel in the reality of the situation. “I… I just thought-“
“I don’t wanna hear it.”
Before you can respond, his hand is gripping your wrist and he’s tugging you toward him into his chest. You shake when you fall into him, listening to the pace of his heart rapidly beating against your ear as he breaths quickly against you. Large palms smooth over your head and down to your waist as he holds you tightly, and you notice how desperate his grip is. He’s holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, as though you’ll fly away if his hold is not tight enough.
He tucks his head into your neck, fingers grasping into your shirt, and suddenly the animosity of the moment prior is gone. You’re still trembling, leading Toji to hold you tighter to him.
“Can’t believe you tried to leave,” he murmurs into your hair. “Christ, (Y/n) you’re tryin’ to gimme a heart attack. The fuck is goin’ on with you.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest, looking off sadly. “I thought you’d be upset about it. I didn’t want you to know.”
“I should know about any and every single thing that’s goin’ on with you, y’hear me? This ain’t no exception.”
A weight flutters from your shoulders as you sink into Toji’s head, silent tears streaming for the life you almost sacrificed. “What are we gonna do?”
“I dunno,” he mumbles. “But we’ll figure it out. As a team. Alright?”
You nod meekly. “Okay.”
He groans, pressing himself impossibly further to you. “That letter… fuck, don’t do that shit. Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that. Without you, I ain’t shit- pregnant or not. And those kids would adore another sibling if you were bringing it into this world. Don’t say that shit about them again either. They need ya. We need ya.”
“I’m sorry,” you whine again, Toji’s hand stroking over your back soothingly.
“It’s okay,” he grumbles. “We’ll figure it out.”
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tokyoghls · 3 months ago
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like a prayer — c. mayhew ・˳ . ⋆
✧ ࣪ ─ ᥫ᭡ cw. blowjob, oral fixation, cum eating/feeding, religious/blasphemy themes, fem!reader. innocent/clueless!reader. mdni.
☆ an ☆ hellooo, hope you like this one, I tried so hard to portray charlie as best as i could since I’ve just read fanfics and haven’t actually watched the series, BUT as soon as it’s available on Disney+ I’ll watch it 🙂‍↕️
**also, keep in mind that this is just a fanfic, I don’t mean any disrespect towards religion or anything.
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There wasn’t a way to explain the feeling, for it made his heart quicken and resolve to thin— sinful thoughts to dance around his mind like tiny devils with horns and tails, whispering wrongdoings to his ear.
He never considered himself to be weak and uncharacteristically doubtful. He knew right from wrong, yet he couldn’t help but steal a glance your way during mass— white lace veil hiding your face from his eyes, waiting for the minute you’d uncover and showed your tight knit brows and full lips, gaze set on the chapel’s ceiling as if looking directly at god’s eyes and wishing you’d glance his way instead, but you never do.
And he always finds himself thanking God you didn’t, as he wouldn’t find it in him to hold back if you had look his way and realized his sinful intentions, the way his thoughts traveled to your Sunday’s attire and pretty hands touching every surface in his office.
That’s why he’s been intentionally avoiding you— walking out of his office five minutes before you come to clean it, and if by any chance you came in earlier, he wouldn’t engage in conversation, making something up and mumbling a quick goodbye so he could avoid looking at your buttocks, displayed beneath that pretty white dress you choose to always wear on Sundays, or the way you chewed on your pencil in thought.
He’d find himself secluded in his room trying to find a way to get you out of his mind, and he found one, but eventually it failed.
The first time he’d done something like that, he thought all it took to forget about you was to rub one off and get on with it, but it was useless— he knew this the moment he realized, that, after every Sunday mass where he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, he locked himself inside his room and jerked off to the thought of you: kneeling on the pew, hands on a prayer and brows furrowing while your lips formed shapes and let out soft exhales with every word spoken.
Just like now, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.
“Father Charlie, did I do something wrong?”.
Your voice pulled him out of his trance, eyes blinking twice and mind focusing in the present. He’s daydreaming. Again.
“Mmh?”.
He hasn’t been listening at all, too busy looking at your clavicle where a cross rested to notice the concerned tinge in your voice.
“Are you okay, Father?”.
He nodded, hands intertwining behind his back and anxious fingers scratching at each other, “Yes, don’t worry, my mind drifted elsewhere for a minute- what were you saying just now?”.
“Alright, umm- I asked if I had done anything to upset you?”.
“Of course not, why would you think that?”, he scoffed, trying to come up with something to change the subject. He didn’t want to say he thinks about you in a sinful way, he’s the father of this chapel after all— it wasn’t remotely okay to think about one of his parishioners that way.
Your gaze nervously shifted to the ceiling, fingers fumbling with each other in front of you, “Well, you’ve been ignoring me lately I tho-”.
“Is not what you think, I’ve just been busy with… something”.
Well, he couldn’t say he’s been busy jerking off to the thought of you sprawled on his desk could he? It was the smartest response he could come up with but also the dumbest.
“Oh well, then uhm… my mom’s waiting for me so I’ll go now”.
Charlie couldn’t do more than watch as your figure disappeared and get lost in thought once again.
Since that interaction, he hasn’t seen you around much— you didn’t attend church two consecutive Sundays, but eventually you returned, looking as beautiful as ever. He’s watching you again, but just to a certain point where your parents won’t notice the lingering glances and tiny smiles he’d send your way.
He has just finished the mass, everyone scattered around, greeting friends and family, him too- he was a loved priest. And of course, your family had to greet him.
“Father Charlie, we’re so pleased to see you again”, your mother spoke fondly, gaze shifting to you, standing behind your father as if you were a scared child. “C’mon honey, Father Charlie is waiting for you to say hello- oh sorry, she’s not in the mood now, she fell sick and she’s not feeling well…”.
Charlie tried to ignore the fact you were partly avoiding him, gaze set on him but also full of doubt. He could just smile thinking that you probably thought he was mad at you. “Don’t worry, I was quite surprised by your absence, but I’m glad you’ve returned”, he nodded, adding teasingly. “You’re my most devoted congregants, and not seeing you here for so long had me thinking you’ve found another church”.
“Oh no! Don’t say things like that!”, your mother giggled and shook her head, “We would never, we’re very attached to this church, my family and I used to come here every Sunday when I was young- I have many great memories here…”.
Charlie wasn’t paying attention to your mom and her incessant rambling anymore, he was paying attention to you. Maybe a little too much that he didn’t hear half of what your mother said.
“… and now we’re looking for a suitable husband for our dear daughter, of course we’d want him to be one of our dear brothers of this church, they all are decent men”
That caught his attention and a mocking snort left his lips. Your mom’s confused gaze made him remember his current position, and awkward cough leaving his lips, “Don’t mind me, continue…”.
You, marrying one of these guys? One of these prude and revolting guys being able to take your hand in marriage…? He couldn’t imagine of one of them warming your bed every night, was it jealousy? That, one of these men, would have you first?
“actually- we wanted to reach out to you, father, we believe you can be of great help for her to learn the ways of a happy marriage, based on respect and love. So, father, what do you think?”.
He couldn’t allow that, not even in a million years.
“Sorry, what I think about what?”. Charlie replied apologetically, looking partly ashamed for not paying attention to your dear mom. Though he wasn’t sure what she was really asking for, he missed half of the speech because of thinking about your possible suitors.
“About teaching our daughter the ways to a happy marriage, you know, principles, respect, values… we’d be very happy if you could help her learn- me and her father are far from being a perfect marriage, and we tried to teach her to some extent, but we’d like it if she learns from God’s hands from now on…”.
Your mom really shouldn’t have said that.
“Fa-father, are you sure this is the right lesson?”. you asked breathless, lips puffy and covered in a thin layer of spit, glistening under the warm lights in his office.
You were quite confused since this wasn’t the usual lessons Father Charlie imparted.
He glanced down at you, hand touching your cheek affectionately, the corner of his mouth twitching. He loved your innocence. “Of course, you need to learn to give proper head to your soon to be husband- now keep going, yeah? Your mother was quite specific when she said she wanted you to learn”.
With a nod of your head, you returned to your task. Tongue peeking out to give a lick to his reddened tip, a bead of salty precum attaching to your warm muscle. You were so close to stuff him all inside your mouth, he’s been working your throat muscles to accommodate him completely and you were quite greedy now, you think you can take him all the way in without your throat burning from the tight stretch.
From your position on the floor, you could look up at any moment and see his conflicted features, he was holding back so you could learn properly— or so he told you.
He was being patient and generous with you, he didn’t want his student chocking on his dick on her first try.
“Careful with those teeth, don’t want my dick bruised”. you hummed and he groaned, loving the way it felt when you did that. A desperate cry left your lips when you couldn’t stuff his dick completely inside, it was so thick and long that it almost embarrassed you to think you could take it without a problem. He noticed that and caressed your hair reassuringly, holding your nape and pushing you down carefully. “Slow, take your time yeah?”.
Breathing through your nose, you held back your tears and let him take the lead. You tried so hard not to gag, thinking about other things like the rough fabric of the tapestry beneath your knees, just to distract your mind from the pressure his dick was inducing your throat in.
But it was futile.
He tried to pull you all the way down but when he heard your muffled gag, he stopped, leaving you to catch your breath, not minding the way your nails dug into his hips trying to push away from him. He held you in place and consoled you.
“It’s alright, don’t worry, it’ll pass… I thought you were ready to take this lesson, tch… I think we should stop now”. The voice that was once filled with lust, now was filled with mockery.
You made a sound denying his request, taking a deep inhale through your nose and engulfing his shaft inside your mouth again, almost going all the way down— it was still a hard task but you found a way to accommodate more of him inside.
“God help me…”. He murmured, eyes shooting up to the ceiling, chest heaving up and down, balls tight and jaw locked. If he kept clenching his teeth like that, they’d surely fall out.
Charlie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, the way your mouth was full of his dick and mouth corners were glistening with a mixture of spit and cum, traveling all the way to your chin and jaw, made his mind spiral with lust and exasperated groans to leave his lips— he didn’t want to cum so soon.
You were doing so good for him, so good… Even if he wanted to blame himself for falling into temptation, he couldn’t think about that now— about the hopefulness on your mother’s face when he accepted this task. He wanted to make it right. So he was going to give his all, even if it meant tarnishing your innocence with his selfish and lust filled soul.
You started sucking his dick as if you were drinking through a straw, a tiny gasp leaving your mouth the moment his hips jerked, filling your mouth with his dick entirely, no restrictions, without consideration... Your eyes opened wide, nails digging again in his thighs, tapping incessantly on them to make him stop. You couldn’t breath, but you could hear his own moan ring through the room.
Your protests fell into deaf ears, Charlie’s hips kept fucking your mouth as if he was fucking your pussy— with a hunger equivalent to that of the abstinent man he was.
Even if he wanted to stop, he couldn’t. He felt so good he didn’t find it in himself to cease the attack on your mouth, he wanted you to learn, so stopping now would be wasting all the hard work he’d been doing.
Tears escaped the corners of your tight closed eyes, your clit throbbed with every push of his hips and moans he left out, you were so enjoying it even if it hurt a bit, even if it was hard to breath you didn’t want him to stop, not when he tasted this good.
“I’m gonna cum now, princess— won’t do that while I’m inside your mouth, but I want you to keep it open, tongue out”, he instructed, pulling his reddened dick out of your mouth with a pop, a thread of saliva and cum keeping it connected to your lips.
Your mouth opened and your tongue peeked out, showing the thin layer of cum that accumulated on your pink muscle. You watched as his hand grabbed his dick, jerking it up and down with desperation.
He lasted a few seconds before he came, white spurts of cum falling all over your chin and inside your mouth, “Swallow”, he ordered before you did exactly that. Charlie smiled, hand lifting up to wipe the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb, pushing it inside your mouth with more of his cum.
“That’s it… don’t waste any of it”.
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jaylalolz · 4 months ago
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❛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ❜ p2 . . . charlie mayhew
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INNOCENT!reader x PRIEST!charlie 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
PART 1
SUMMARY, after ignoring charlie for a week after the incident, he finally gets her close in the bathroom.
A/N, sorry i took way too long to make a p2. if you want a p3, leave some recommendations of what i should do for that part in my inbox bc i have no idea how to keep it going 😂 anyways, have fun reading, angels. 🪽🪽
WARNINGS, smuttyyyyy
Charlie had noticed the change immediately after their last conversation—the one where Maddy had admitted, with a tremble in her voice, that she had thought about him in ways she knew weren’t right. He had been shocked, then flattered, and finally, filled with guilt after everything. But what troubled him the most was her absence.
For a whole week, Maddy hadn’t spoken to him. She didn’t show up at mass, didn’t linger after church like she usually did. Every time he tried to reach out, she brushed him off with curt messages or avoided him entirely. She wasn’t just distant—she was actively ignoring him.
At first, Charlie tried to give her space, assuming that she needed time to process what had happened between them. But as the days passed, his concern grew. The gnawing guilt inside him—the feeling that maybe he had crossed a line, that maybe he had hurt her more than he realized—began to fester.
It wasn’t until late one evening, after most of the congregation had already left, that Charlie spotted her. Maddy, rushing down the hallway, her face flushed, disappeared into the restroom. The church was quiet, the echoes of footsteps fading, and Charlie hesitated for a moment before following her.
He knocked softly on the bathroom door. “Maddy?”
There was no response, but he heard a faint sniffle, the kind that comes after holding back tears for too long. Charlie’s heart clenched. He hesitated, not wanting to invade her space, but the sound of her pain pushed him forward.
“Maddy, please talk to me,” he said gently. “I know you’ve been avoiding me, but I can’t help you if you shut me out.”
There was a long pause, and then the door cracked open. Maddy stood there, her eyes red and puffy, but there was something hardened in her expression. She looked exhausted—not just physically, but emotionally.
“Why do you care so much, Charlie?” she asked, her voice thick with frustration and hurt. “I’m trying to keep my distance, like I’m supposed to. Isn’t that what you want?”
Charlie frowned, stepping closer. “What I want is to understand why you’ve been avoiding me. After everything we talked about, I thought we could work through this together, but you’ve been shutting me out completely.”
Maddy let out a bitter laugh, wiping at her eyes. “Work through this? Charlie, you don’t get it. I’m embarrassed. I told you something I never should have said, something unholy, we did something for which I will never be forgiven. And every time I look at you, I see the judgment in your eyes.”
Charlie’s breath caught in his throat, realizing the depth of her shame. “Maddy, no,” he said, stepping toward her, his voice softening. “There’s no judgment. I promise you that.”
“Then why does it feel like there’s a wall between us now?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Why did it feel like I crossed a line that I can’t uncross?”
Charlie closed his eyes, fighting the turmoil in his chest. He had wrestled with his own guilt all week, and now hearing hers, it was clear they were both lost in their own pain. He opened his eyes and met hers, his gaze steady.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” he said softly. “What you told me… it was honest. I do not regret what we did together, i am not ashamed of it.”
She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face for any hint of dishonesty. When she didn’t find it, she exhaled slowly, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
“So, why does it matter so much, Charlie? Why did we both make it feel like the end of the world?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Charlie ran a hand through his hair, taking a breath. “Because it’s hard, Maddy. It’s hard to admit that something’s there, something we both feel but can’t have. It’s hard because I want to help you through this, but I also… I’m fighting the same thoughts, the same distractions.” His confession hung in the air between them, heavy and real.
Maddy’s breath hitched, her eyes widening slightly. “You mean…?”
Charlie nodded, looking down. “I’m not immune to this. But I’m trying to stay strong for both of us. And ignoring me won’t make it go away. We have to figure out how to deal with this together.”
Maddy wiped at her eyes again, this time with less urgency, as if the weight of their shared secret had lightened slightly. “I don’t know how to make it stop,” she admitted, her voice small.
“Neither do I,” Charlie said quietly. “But I can help you, Angel.”
He stepped closer to her, trapping her exit from the restroom. His fingers interlocks with her hair as he pulls a strand behind her ear and grabbed her face and pulled her closer. “Tell me you don’t regret it, please” he says eagerly as he places his forehead on hers.
“Just Let me worship you”
Her head spins from the thousands of negative possibilities but her body just wants to surrender to him.
Without kissing her, he trailed his lips up her curve and exhaled till the heat tingled sensuously across her delicate skin. She closed her eyes, sensing his hands running up her sides over her white button-up blouse. He clasped his hands over the cloth, tracing a line up her hips and down the sides of her chest before finishing at the collar of the weightless material.
He made two hard fists out of the blouse collar and tore it open causing her to gasp in shock as the shirt split open to reveal her white lacy bra.
He turned to face her and grabbed her hips once again, the moment the door was locked. Before her thoughts could register, his lips dropped hungrily to her neck and her back collided with the wall. He brushed his teeth on her flesh right away, pressing his body against her while groaning.
Her hands instinctively gripped his hips, tossing her head to one side. They kissed for a long time, his sensual lips breathing heavily into her neck in between, making her eyes drift close. He thrust forward, bringing his hips to meet hers, offering whatever kind of pleasure he could. Her hands clenched around his hips over his pants, and she let out a sigh of pleasure.His hands trailed down her nude thighs, extending to her behind to seize it above the dress. He pulls her hips against his harder.
"I can't wait to take this dress off you." He graveled.
His words cause her core to ache and she arched her back further off the wall to feel his body against her even more. He takes the motion and decides to just pick her up instead. His hand reaches behind her thighs, where he raises her and surrounds her weak legs around his hips. Her back against the wall as their hips collided, she took a deep breath at the abrupt change.Now at eye level with her, he planted a kiss on her jaw and positioned himself between her legs. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she held him in place. She felt weak as a result of his forceful hip thrust between her legs.
She dug her hands into his hair and let out a cry through a pant. When she pulled it, he gave a grunt. He clamped down harder on her neck, and in response, she let out an uncontrollable whine.
He tightly clamped his teeth into a single area, creating such strong suction that she was certain it would leave a mark. She almost lost consciousness when she separated her lips in response to her aggressive action, arching her back. Feeling him rough on the pale skin, she reflexively jerked her hand to the back of his head. She got mild pain spikes with it, but other than that, it was enjoyable.
She pulled at the roots above his neck, and he whispered into her neck. She knew immediately that he enjoyed it when she yanked his hair. His moan provided the necessary stimulation between her legs. He drags out every motion so that she begs him to keep going.
With her bra and panties on, she arched her back, feeling the tight fit of his jeans pressing on her inner part. she could feel how hard he was becoming quickly, he was absolutely bottled up in those tight jeans. Suddenly, he sets her down on her two feet and goes on his knees. He lanced down at her stomach, licking his lower lip with his tongue before lowering his head to give her abdomen a moist kiss. Her whole body trembled at the light touch.
He reached her panties and raised his head, gazing up into her eyes all the way up her body. Grabbing the edges of her lace panties, he sits up between her legs and pulls it up off her hips and down her thighs right away. She tensed slightly as he took off the final piece of material covering her body. She raised her legs into the air and he pulled the thin material away from her ankles.
He tossed the last piece of clothing to the floor, leaving her completely vulnerable. “Now, you’re gonna be a good girl and stay quiet. we don’t want anyone to hear you”
Just by feeling his tongue running up her center, her stomach lurched and her entire body flexed. He forced his mouth against her tightly and rolled his tongue straight to the cluster of nerves before she could even begin to grasp the strange sensation of his sharp tongue sliding up her slit. "Charlie-" her back curved off the wall before she could even complete her statement.
Without holding back, he went straight into her clit with a wonderful rhythmic roll of his tongue. Her eyes narrowed as she closed them.
Her hips twitched with the intensity of this wild new feeling right away. "Charlie, oh my god," she said, rolling her eyes inside her head. He maintained a death grip on her thighs, keeping them forced open to give him complete access to enjoy her in any way he pleased. She was unable to regulate her sensitivity, and it would make her body twitch.
His wet tongue rolled in the perfect place at different rhythms and at a steady pace, making her experience things She have never felt in her entire life. He just started, and she was unable to catch her breath.Her hands would be death grasping his thick hair right now if she could control them.
He placed her legs over his shoulders, reaching lower and squeezing a firm grasp around her outer thighs and hip bones. With a deep inhale through his nose, he caressed her with his tongue, sending a surge of ecstasy up her neck and into her veins. With a moan, she chokes and throws back her head, putting her legs across his long back.
She wasn't prepared for the kind of pleasure he gave her when he slid his lengthy tongue inside of her and ran it down. He was an expert at what he was doing and was doing it very well. Then the knot in her stomach turned to give her trembling thighs. Before returning to her clit, which she could now feel pulsating, he slid his tongue in and out of her a few times. The pressure burning inside of her intensified as soon as he made touch with it once more.
She flinches and draws in a short breath as he flicks the tip of his tongue up and down on the bundle of nerves. "I need it so bad.. charlie..." She could not be silent in the room; she was a mess of heavy pants. She was unable to stop herself from breathing heavily and was always accompanied by whimpers and whines that were concealed in the back of her throat.
He looks down between them, his ring and middle fingers digging deep into her. He instantly coiled and shoved them at the same moment, making her gasp. She was taken aback by the furious action. He was panting as well, so she arched her back and let out a whimper into the thick air. The two fingers he didn't have rings on, his fingers rocked into her mercilessly.
She let out a cry, tightly clenching her eyelids and contorting her hips. He coiled up and compressed his fingers, striking a sensitive area within her which she had no idea contained so many nerve endings."You're so fucking tight-" In his deep voice, he whispered.
Her legs trembled as she yelled out, “please." "Does that feel good?" He rasps into the burning air while simultaneously caressing her clit with his fingers. Shutting her eyes tightly, she gave a nod. Her stomach felt like it was about to burst; there were no words to express the feelings she was experiencing.
"Do you feel that knot in your stomach, Angel?" He whispered, reading her thoughts.
She groaned and nodded once more, her chest heaving in a need for breath. "Use your words." More forcefully, he remarks, It was so difficult to focus on anything other than the euphoric rush coursing through her blood. “Y-yes." was her stutter.
"I'm adding a third." Before striking a third finger into her, he muttered. She let out a gasp as he pushed past the line, his third finger descending in unison with the other two. She let out a cry, her back automatically arching off the wall.
"Oh my god!" The pressure between her hips immediately increased as the third finger was thrust in, causing her to cry. her body came out in another sweat, her hips suddenly having a mind of their own when they bucked.
He glanced up at her face, saw how shaken she was getting, her legs trembling with her inability to remain silent. He pulled his hand away from her clit and instead brought it up to cover her lips because she was extremely loud. When the build started to get more tense, he began to shove his three fingers deep into her.
"Everyone is right next door." He smirks.
"You can yell into my hand."
With her eyes squeezed shut, she yelled into his big palm that was placed across her mouth. Her back continued to arch off the wall as the condition grew progressively deeper. She felt as though she were on a cloud and was at a loss for words regarding what was occurring to her body.
"Cum for me baby-" He encouraged, drawing his eyes into hers. He knew she was close.
She whimpered into his fingers, her body's gears shifting like a moving train. Her thighs trembled as though she was freezing, her stomach was drawn in, and her chest pumped fiercely. She kept screaming into his palm at the crushing strain that was killing her, and his fingers kept jamming into the same area.
Her entire body was tight; she was too weak to continue in this state for very long. She let out his muffled name in a scream and then abruptly stopped moving. Everything—shaking, arching, breathing—stopped abruptly.
She undid herself on his fingers. She moans at the feeling of emptiness as he pulls away. He puts a kiss on her forehead and adds, "I knew you would be such a good girl for me." She was still trembling from what had happened, so he gently placed her clothing and underwear on her.
She slid to the floor, tears spilling down her cheeks. The shame she felt was suffocating, wrapping itself around her until she could barely breathe.
“Maddy,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
She shook her head, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice broken. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know why i’m crying”
Charlie was kneeling beside her before she could finish, his hands gentle as he reached for her. “Maddy, stop,” he murmured. “You don’t have to apologize”
She shook her head, tears still spilling down her cheeks. “It feels wrong, Charlie. All of this. I feel guilty for even wanting this.”
Charlie sighed, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face. “I know. I feel it too. But guilt isn’t going to help either of us right now. We need to be honest with ourselves about what’s happening, and we need to figure out how to move forward.”
Charlie’s thumb gently wiped away one of her tears, his touch comforting but careful.
Maddy closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, even though part of her knew they shouldn’t be this close. But in this moment, she needed the comfort, the reassurance that she wasn’t alone in this guilt. That they would find a way through it, together.
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slut4nicholas · 4 months ago
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𝙊𝙃, 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙄 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄 | 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀
a/n: i haven't started the show yet, so I'm not familiar with his character in this show. please forgive my cluelessness during this fic.
summary: the reader goes to the church to confess to the priest that she recently sinned. however, the father decides to have some fun of his own.
warnings: mention of religion, 18+, missionary, loss of virginity, oral(fem & m receiving) fingering, nipple play, praise kink, pet names like doll,sweetheart,baby, mentions of anal, spanking, degrading, corruption kink, almost caught
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growing up in a religious household, i have developed a deep appreciation for my catholic roots. whenever I feel overwhelmed by sadness, anger, or depression, I find solace in the church.
today i couldn't help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt. i found myself hanging out with a boy, and things got a bit physical. even though we didn't go too far, i couldn't help but feel ashamed. i had promised to wait until marriage, but these uncontrollable desires keep creeping up. i've decided to go to the church to talk to the father about my recent activities and confess my sins.
as i made my way to the church, i felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. i'm meeting with father charlie, a young and attractive man who’s also the priest at the church, which is not something you typically expect in the church. i haven't had a chance to speak with him one-on-one yet, so im feeling a bit apprehensive about what our conversation will entail.
i open the big doors to the church to see it completely empty just to find charlie sitting down on one the church benches.
“hello there” he calls out.
"father, there's something weighing heavily on my heart that I need to share with you," i said as I hurried to sit next to him.
i can feel that irritating uneasy sensation in my stomach. I didn't even give him a proper greeting. the guilt was so overwhelming that it made me stumble over my words.
"what is it y/n?" he turns all of his attention towards me, his big brown eyes digging into mine, as if anticipating something significant.
“i don’t know who to talk to, i can’t talk to my parents about this especially my own father. i’ve been feeling really guil-“
he interrupted me with a gentle smile and placed his hand on my shoulder, assuring me that everything would be okay and letting me know that he was a safe person to talk to.
“father, i need to confess something. i kissed a boy, and he kissed me back. he started to touch me, but i stopped him. i made a promise to the lord, and i feel terrible for breaking it”
as the tears welled up in my eyes, i instinctively dropped my face into my hands, seeking refuge from the overwhelming emotions.
"hey, it's going to be okay," charlie said in a gentle, caring tone as he stroked my hair, trying to comfort me.
“now tell me, did you guys fuck?”
as those words reached my ears, i couldn't help but look up at him, shaking my head as the tears continued to fall.
oh no, i hope he's not going to make me feel even worse.
“no father i swear-“
"shh, no swearing in the church," he said, raising his finger to his lips with a smirk. the irony wasn't lost on him, considering he had just dropped the f-bomb.
it was so quiet for a whole minute, and I started feeling really awkward. i had come all this way hoping for some advice or comfort, but it seemed like he just didn't care.
as I stood up, charlie grabbed my arm, forcing me to sit back down. “i didn't say you could leave. where do you think you're going?”
he replied coldly, smirking, “always so forgiving. it's kind of pathetic”
i stared at him, utterly perplexed, not really sure what he was talking about.
“father, isn't forgiveness what the church is all about?”
“sometimes, but in this case, i really want you to show me how sorry you are. otherwise, you're just going to keep committing the same sin over and over again. you don't want that, right? you don't want your parents to find out how desperate their innocent little girl has become, do you?"
i couldn't believe what i was hearing from charlie. i never expected him to act this way, let alone say things like this. i was at a loss for words and didn't know how to react. all i could do was nod in agreement. the last thing i wanted was for my parents to find out.
“father, i think i should go”
"why are you suddenly so shy, doll?" his hand on my chin made me tilt my head to stare at him.
"you don't think i notice how you look at me during mass when I'm speaking on the stand? you've become so needy that you sometimes cross your legs to stop yourself from feeling those emotions you want to avoid so badly," he says while caressing my cheek, gently rubbing his thumb on my bottom lip.
"i know you think of me taking you to the point where you can't even think straight, cum dripping out of you while i use you for my pleasure. you don't think i notice that? the way you avoid eye contact with me”
“i don’t know what your talking about father”
charlie’s hand rested lightly on my thigh, sending a spark of electricity coursing through my body. as his fingers inched toward the top of my skirt, pushing the fabric up just a little, my breath caught in my throat. each slow movement seemed to stretch time, heightening my senses and igniting a thrilling tension i couldn't ignore.
it felt deceptively wrong—the kind of reckless abandon that sent a shiver down my spine—but the anticipation was intoxicating, and I craved more. my mind raced, caught between instinct and hesitation, as the warmth of his touch settled into a deep hunger, one i found increasingly impossible to resist.
i glanced up, searching his eyes for a sign, a cue that this was more than just a fleeting moment. we held a playful challenge, a promise of the passion we both knew was simmering beneath the surface. my heart raced with excitement and fear, the boundaries of right and wrong blurring into a sweet confusion. with every breath, i felt the world around us fade away, lost to the undeniable chemistry pulsing in the air. i didn’t want to stop it; I wanted to let go completely and dive headfirst into whatever was coming next.
“do you want this as much as I want this?" charlie's voice broke through the haze of my thoughts, causing my heart to race in an unholy rhythm. i felt his gaze resettle upon me, a weight both thrilling and terrifying. my mind was a jumble, each beat vying for clarity as i struggled to focus on anything but him.
his eyes—the deep pools of mischief and longing—held me captive, swaying me like a fragile leaf in a rising storm. the blueprint of his desires flickered behind those intense brown eyes, and my cheeks burned with a shameful blush. I could hear the hymns of the service fade into background noise, a distant echo that paled against the ferocity of this moment.
what was wrong with me? i shouldn’t be feeling this way, not here—certainly not in a house of worship. my skirt brushed against my legs, reminding me of the innocence i used to wear like armor, now discarded in the face of this ravenous yearning. charlie wanted me. craved me. it was a dangerous temptation that had taken root within me, whispering sweet nothings that urged me to give in.
the candlelit corners of the church bathed in shadows, the lure was overwhelming. each passing week at mass had been an exercise in restraint, a careful balancing act over a precipice of emotion. seeing him near the altar in his crisp shirt—as though god himself had stitched him together purely for me—seemed more sublimely wrong every time.
as his eyes swept over me, i wondered if he could sense the tension glittering between us, thick and electrifying like charged air before a storm. j licked my lips, torn between the sanctity of the aisle and the allure of his promise. "I need you, doll. I can't deny it anymore," he murmured like a sin freshly minted from temptation's forge.
i felt a tumultuous wave of conflicting emotions surging within me. the whispered prayers seemed empty as an overwhelming desire ignited like an uncontrollable inferno. "father” i gasped, but the air escaped me, filled with forbidden possibilities. despite everything, all i could focus on were his lips drawing nearer to mine, as if the world around us faded away, leaving only the intense magnetism between us.
in that sacred moment, beneath the flickering lights, surrounded by silence begging to be heard, we hovered on the brink of something vast and insatiable. would we give in? would grace curdle into passion? ignoring the whisper of consequence felt like my true struggle—should we tiptoe across this brittle line, or confess that hunger has only one unyielding answer? together.
as I processed what was happening, a surge of warmth enveloped me, and i found myself surrendering to the moment. his lips danced across the sensitive skin of my neck, light as a whisper but charging the air with electricity. a small moan escaped my lips, betraying the whirlwind of emotions stirring within me. i could feel his smirk, a secret shared just between us, brushing against my skin, simultaneously teasing and thrilling.
his hand roamed over my thigh, a firm yet gentle grip that sent a shiver cascading through my body. "that's it, such a good girl for me," he purred, his voice a low whisper that thrummed like a melody in my ears, both lustful and tender. each word dripped with a promise, igniting the fire kindling deep within me, blurring the boundaries between desire and surrender.
lost in this intoxicating closeness, i reveled in the sensations; the world beyond shifted and faded, leaving only his teasing caresses and the seductive intimacy that enveloped us—a balance of power and vulnerability, inviting me to cross the threshold into unknown territory.
"father, i really don’t think we should be doing this here. It just doesn’t feel right. what if we get caught?" i watched as charlie sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration, clearly torn between desire and caution.
"you’re right," he replied, his voice low and raspy, "but it’s late, and I don’t think anyone’s going to wander into the church at this hour. just relax, sweetheart."
i hesitated for a moment, then nodded, the thrill of the forbidden sending a shiver down my spine. i reached out, intertwining my fingers with his, bringing his hand to my lips and sucking gently on his long fingers. his eyes locked onto mine, filled with a primal hunger that made my heart race. i could see it in his expression—the desperate need to claim me, to tear away any barrier between us.
the air was thick with anticipation, and i could almost feel the weight of his longing as he shifted closer, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. the dim light from the stained glass windows cast a soft glow around us, amplifying the intensity of the moment. i could sense the tension building, a thrilling mix of danger and desire, as he leaned in, caught in the magnetic pull that seemed to draw us together like moths to a flame.
we were on the edge of something wild and reckless, and in that sacred space, everything felt possible.
charlie withdrew his fingers, his intention clear as he replaced them with his warm, teasing tongue. it slipped into my mouth, exploring with a fervor that sent electric shivers through my entire body. he held my neck gently yet possessively, urging me closer, deeper, igniting a fire that burned between us.
i kissed him back with equal intensity, a thrilling battle for dominance that left us both breathless. the taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and urgency that made my heart race. every flick of his tongue ignited a wave of pleasure, pooling low in my belly and making it almost impossible to think straight.
the heat of the moment consumed me; i could feel my body responding instinctively to his every move. the sweet tension built inside me, and i knew i needed him—needed to feel him against me, to drown in that wild connection we shared. my panties were already soaked, a testament to the overwhelming desire coursing through my veins.
charlie pushes my panties to the side allowing his already wet fingers from my saliva to dance around my clothed heat growling like a predator hungry for its prey “let me show you how a real man is supposed to make you feel darling, those little boys wouldn’t know how to handle something so precious like you. i can make you feel so good you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for days”
as he pumps his fingers in out of me the sweet sounds filling up the quiet church was enough for the both of us to go crazy “more father please” he smirked at my neediness removing his fingers out of me putting them up to mouth to signaling me to suck the sweet juices off of his fingers then going back in for a quick rub of my clit
charlie stood up getting ready to unbuckle his pants but before he could even do that a voice filled up the quiet room which caused me to jump and act quick closing my legs and hiding my exposed area “father charlie i’ve been looking everywhere for you” an older lady shouts from across the room as she appears to be in desperate need of his help
he sighed and i took that as my sign to leave before we both do something we might regret later, charlie keeps his gaze on me the entire time “hi, ill be with you in a moment” he spoke up the lady stops in her tracks wondering what a young woman was doing here at almost midnight with the priest of the church she was curious but nothing crossed her mind as she was desperate to talk to the priest
charlie followed me out of the church closing the door behind us “this isn’t over sweetheart” he placed a kiss on my forehead as he walked back into the church.
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a/n: omggg i hope you guys like this!! i’ve spent almost a day and a half working on this just for you all especially the person who requested this, i will be making this into a little series since it was getting pretty long! anyways i really hope you guys enjoyed this, remember feel free to request anything!
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angeliteria · 6 months ago
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𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
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pairings — catholic!fem reader and eddie munson
summary — you're a good catholic girl. always have been — even though you're dating eddie munson, who's the complete opposite of that. he's crude and vulgar, and his influence may just taint you entirely.
warnings tags — adult language. mentions of religion, talks of god. eddie hates god, but has a god kink. major blasphemy. reader has daddy issues. mentions of jason craver (ew i know). graphic details of smut: loss of virginity (virgin!reader) + corruption. oral (eddie receiving). f!ngering. slight degrading but more praise. wrong usage of a rosary.
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Eddie Munson was merely the Devil in your parents eyes.
To you, he was the seventh heaven.
Crossing paths with him was not a mistake, but a blessing. Eddie took care of you, and loved you. He really loved you.
You met him through a friend who went to Hawkins with him, and you couldn’t perceive him as a bad boy, whatsoever. He was genuine and kind the second you and him met, asking questions about you that no other guy ever had done.
But you knew he was not the guy you could bring home to your parents. Your parents were aware of him, since your father was a Sheriff for the Hawkins department, and always got reports of him.
You couldn’t tell them about your infatuation for Eddie, and how your heart burned for him, belonged to him. You were more faithful to Eddie Munson than you were to your Catholicism, and for you to say that to your parents, would earn you a kick to church camp.
You couldn’t say that their sweet little girl was in love with Hawkins’ freak; that he had told her many ways he wanted to deprive her of innocence and purity; that he dreamed of her worshiping him under her cross.
And you dreamed of that, every Sunday, for the past many month.
You sat in between your father and mother as the Priest read from the bible, and you fiddled with the ending hem of your white, babydoll dress. You stared mindfully at the cross, your head drawing the image of Eddie taking your virginity, rupturing your virtue, right underneath it.
You did feel a bit of guilt when you thought such lewd things, and you did blame Eddie for it. You felt even worse thinking of them in church, where you were supposed to be devoting your love and soul to the Lord, not a wild man.
“Hebrews 13:4 says, ‘Marriage is to be held in honor among all, and the marriage bed is to be undefiled; for fornicators and adulterers God will judge’”, the Priest spoke confidently, eyes glancing up to everyone for a second.
You swallowed thickly, fingers gripping tightly on your dress.
What the fuck, Jesus, you thought to yourself. I’m a fucking eighteen year old, of course I want to fornicate!
“Sweet dear,” your mother whispered, and you looked at her. “You look unwell. Are you okay?”
“Do you mind if I take a moment outside?” You wondered, brows drawing upwards. “It feels stuffy. Just for a minute, please.”
She sighed heavily, shaking her head. “Very well, then. Be quiet, dear.”
You thanked her, standing up, and quickly — but quietly — dismissed yourself out of the building, pushing open the wooden doors. The second you were outside, you groaned, the doors swinging close behind you.
“I’m damned for Hell,” you mumbled, rubbing your temple in frustration.
“So am I,” you heard a voice come from the side of you. You spin your head, finding Eddie there, smoking a cigarette. “For smoking of the Lord’s sacred grounds.”
“Eddie,” you sighed in relief, walking up to him, and he brought you into his embrace. He kissed the side of your head, before pulling back. “What are you doing here? If my parents — or anyone — sees you, they will make a fret out of it!”
Eddie chuckled. “Is that so?”
“I’m serious, Eds,” you frowned, throwing a small, playful slap to his shoulder. “We don’t need a scene.”
“Ah, I know, angel,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for assurance. “I just needed to see you. Was wondering what you are doing tonight?”
“I have homework, and finish my project on the Betrayal of Judas tonight,” you explained, annoyed at the mere thought of it. “It’s going to take all night. Why do you ask?”
“I wanted you to come by my trailer tonight,” Eddie said, and you smiled, but upset you had to decline his suggestion. “But it’s okay. I’m going to pick you up after school tomorrow, okay?”
“If Sister Josie sees you, she will report you to my parents,” you warned, and he only barked a laugh, throwing his head back. “I do not want to be sent to a camp because I was caught with you, Eds.”
“If your parents did that, I’d kidnap you,” Eddie stated, and you rolled your eyes, shooting a look at the church’s doors, eyes retreating back into his shortly after. “Go on in, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow, and we can do something fun.”
You raised a brow. “Like what?”
“Anything you wanted,” Eddie promised, giving your chin a soft pinch. “Be good for me, yeah?”
You hummed, and nodded. “Bye, Eds,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he watched you walk all the way back into the church.
You hurried back to your row, perching yourself back in between your parents.
“Feel better?” Your mother asked.
You inhaled sharply. “Much better.”
Your fork poked at the vegetables that sat on your dinner plate, your eyes boring into it. It was always quiet on Sunday dinners, and you never said anything, unless your parents did.
Your mother poured herself another glass of red wine, and your father glanced at you, then his wife. “Got another report today about that Munson boy,” your father cracked the perfect quiet, and was visibly angered. “He’s been seen graffiting near Lovers Lake.”
“And who is reporting that?” Your mother questioned, sipping her beverage.
“Probably that ass kisser, Jason,” you mumbled, and your father slammed his hands down on the table.
“LANGUAGE!” Your father bellowed, and you dropped your fork onto your plate, slouching back into your chair. “Jason is a good boy. A good son of the Lord, and that’s the kind of guy you need in your life.”
“Jason literally tried to kiss me at the eighth grade school dance,” you recalled, scoffing. “Without my consent, may I add!”
“Well you two were children then,” your mother said, and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s a lovely boy. His friends are lovely too!”
You purse your lips. “His friends are dumb fucks.”
Okay, so maybe Eddie really did have a bad influence on you. Because you would never — for the love of God — curse in front of your parents, until now.
“What’s with the mouth?” Your father asked, and you glared at him. “You ought to pray tonight to the Lord tonight.”
“I’m just growing up, daddy,” you mocked, standing up from the dinner table, and threw your napkin on top of your plate. You stormed out of the dining room, straight into your bedroom, slamming your bedroom door behind you.
You dropped your body onto your bed, stuffing your face into your pillow. You wanted to scream and kick every object in your room, but refused not to do such a thing.
You were fine with laying on your bed, and smothering yourself with a pillow, until you heard gentle knocks at your window. You jolted up, your head craning toward the sound, and peeked at the window.
And you found Eddie, standing right outside your window.
You cursed under your breath, and stalked over to your window, snapping it open. Eddie smiled at the sight of you, though he could tell you were mystified by his unnoticed appearance.
“Do you want to kidnap me that badly?” You wondered, and he chuckled breathily, shrugging. “You can’t be here right now. My dad and I got into this fight.”
“About me, I suppose?” Eddie asked, allowing himself to jump into and through your bedroom window, and you didn’t stop him. “I know how your daddy likes to talk about me.”
“He said I should be with Jason, or someone like him,” you said, and he closed your bedroom window. “Because he is a son of the Lord.”
“Or the fucking Devil,” Eddie joked, and you snickered, but agreed. “I wonder what your dad would think if he knew you were with me, hm?”
“He would take his shotgun to you,” you admitted, and Eddie took a look around your bedroom. “Anyway, you can stay for a bit, but my father demands I pray for cursing.”
“Their little girl suddenly has a mouth of dirt?” Eddie teased, and you slapped his arm, which he laughed at. “Have I finally corrupted their innocent daughter?”
“Shut it, Munson,” you snapped, and he leaned against your desk, his eyes casting down at your Bible that sat on top of it.
“How about you pray right now? I won’t say a thing,” Eddie suggested, and you raised a brow, tilting your head. “You need to get it over with, anyway. You won’t even know I’m here.”
“You want to watch me pray?” You asked.
“It’d be nice, ya’know?” Eddie grinned, and he could tell you were completely gullible to what he was getting at. “Maybe I could learn a thing or two.”
You considered it, and simply agreed, walking up next to him. You grabbed your bible, and opened it up as you made your way over to your bed, kneeling at the end of it. Your knees brushed against your carpet-like flooring, looking up at your cross.
“Wait, Eds,” you paused, and he was already giving you your pink rosary. You thanked him, wrapping it around your fingers, and held it tightly in your hand.
Your cross hung right above your bed, right in the middle of your room, and your attention diverted from him, to the Bible.
Eddie simply watched and witnessed you speak and pray, and he felt sick for getting aroused to this pure sight of you, pleading for forgiveness from a man who supposedly ruled the Earth. He wanted to touch you, for his hands to memorize and caress every curve of your body.
His eyes unpeeled that baby pink tank top you wore, then went to your white, soft sweatpants. He wondered how it’d be like for you to plead and worship him in front of the Lord as he made you call him your God.
Maybe that was an awful, crude dream to play in his head, but he wanted to have your devotion turn to him, not the Lord.
The Lord couldn’t love and care for you the way he did.
Eddie went over to your bedroom door, and locked it, seeing how focused you were on the pages of pure fiction.
He kneeled behind you, and wrapped an arm around your torso, your body shuddering. He brought you closer to him, planting an innocent kiss on your shoulder.
“Eddie, I’m praying,” you pouted, setting your Bible down for a moment. “You said you wouldn’t disrupt.”
“Just keep going, love,” he mumbled, his tip of his nose brushing against your skin. “Keep praying.”
You rolled your eyes and did so, continuing to recite every word from the pages.
Eddie’s lips made their way to the nape of your neck, getting the sweet scent of your perfume. “What a good girl,” he whispered, his hot breath sending a symphony of shivers along your body. “Doing anything to stay pure and good.”
You nearly faltered, your concentration weakening. His hand trailed to your stomach, resting on your abdomen.
Eddie had touched you before, but not fully — not under your clothes. He even afforded to show you how to touch yourself, but Sister Tina from your school said you’d be banished to Hell for such a thing; so that set enough fear in.
Now, you craved for him to touch him. You didn’t know why in this particular moment — out of every heated, lusting moment — you wanted to feel him, to take you apart, and taint every part of your body, and brain.
You began to stutter as you spoke, Eddie’s hand crawling under your sweatpants, grazing over your clothed area. “Do you think the Lord wants me to touch you?” He taunted, and you hummed, your hands grasping harshly onto both sides of the Bible. “What do you think?”
“Eddie,” you managed to breathe out. “Eddie.”
“I want him to watch me take his devoted angel,” Eddie continued, his fingers creeping into your underwear, and your body flinched the second his fingers pressed against your bud. “Show him that he is no protector.”
You nodded, and Eddie grinned, resting his chin onto your shoulder.
You wanted Eddie. You needed Eddie.
“Keep reading, or I’ll stop,” Eddie warned, and you couldn’t hold onto a single thought as his middle finger curled into your unripe cunt. You moaned, squeezing your eyelids shut to the feeling of it. It was a single fucking finger in you, and you felt like pure bliss.
Eddie continued to pump the individual finger in you, slowly and surely as you tried to read more.
Everything was going smoothly, until a knock hit against your bedroom door.
Your father barked your name, you and Eddie freezing up. “Honey, why is your door locked?” Your father asked, shaking the doorknob. “Are you okay?”
Eddie smirked, his ring finger joining his middle, both pumping into a picked up pace.
“I–I’m praying!” You announced, trying to hold back your noises. “I wanted to pray in privacy, talk to the Lord!”
“Oh,” your father spoke from the other side of the door. “I’m glad to hear that, sweetie. I just wanted to say, you know I’m just looking out for you, right?”
Eddie’s fingers struck an unknown, but euphoric, spot in you, and you choked down a loud moan. “Yeah, daddy! I know that,” you responded, throwing your head back onto Eddie’s shoulder, and the Bible collapsed to the side of you.
Eddie chuckled quietly, using his free hand to wrap onto your throat. “What a filthy girl,” he whispered into your ear, grasping onto your neck.
“There’s bad guys out there, like Eddie Munson,” your father said, and Eddie wanted to bark a laugh. “If you were to be with a boy like that, I’d lose it. Boys only want one thing, and you know that.”
Another noise was lodged in your throat, Eddie having to squeeze your throat as a warning.
“I know, I know! Now, can I continue praying, please?” You asked, and Eddie’s finger shoved into you faster, and harder.
“Yes, of course! Your mother and I are heading to the Martins for a bit,” he acknowledged, and you had to slam your own hand over your mouth. “We should be back no later than 11. Be good!”
You kept your hand over your mouth until you heard the front door slam shut, and the second they did, you freed all your noises. Your chest heaved, your body becoming pudding against Eddie’s.
A hot sensation hit your stomach, and you found pleasure in it. It was an unfamiliar, enjoyable feeling. Your thighs trembled, and Eddie took a quick note to it, noticing how you were barely adjusting to this. “Are you going to cum?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with confusion.
“Cum?” You repeated.
“Does it feel like your stomach is on fire?” Eddie asked, his fingers making themselves deeper into your core, and you nodded. “That means you’re at your climax, love. That you are going to cum. It’s very normal.”
You still had a lot to learn, and Eddie was glad enough to teach you it all.
“Just let it go, sweetheart. Let it be free,” he cooed, and you hummed, your body convulsing the second your climax poured out of you, nearly dropping to the floor. He kept you up and close to him, and you panted, swallowing thickly.
Eddie’s fingers disappeared out of you, removing his hand completely from you. He placed his two fingers in his mouth, getting the sweet taste of you, and nearly moaned. “You taste fucking divine.”
You blushed, and eyed your Bible, picking it up. “I think I got enough forgiveness,” you joked, and Eddie hummed, helping you stand up with him. “I just…”
“Hm?” Eddie wondered, taking the Bible from you, and rested it on your desk. “What is it, sweet girl?”
“I want,” your voice quavered, your head hanging low in embarrassment. “I want more.”
Eddie placed his finger under your chin, bringing your head up to look him directly in the eye. “You want more? You have to be more specific, love,” Eddie mused, and you whimpered. “Use your words, please.”
“I want you to touch me more,” you only knew how to say it like that. Just paraphrase it in that way. “I want you to fuck me?”
“Is that a question or statement?” Eddie jested, and you whined more, embarrassed. “I’m kidding, sweet girl. I know what you mean, but are you sure?”
You nodded, smiling in confidence.
Eddie tugged you closer to his body, his lips smothering yours, and his hands laid on your hips, squeezing them gently. Your arms looped around his neck, holding him close to you, your body aching for him.
He led you over to your bed, sitting down onto it as you straddled his lap. Your hands cupped his cheeks, your rosary brushing against his skin, and you could feel him smile on your lips.
His lips fell off of yours, and he stripped off his upper half clothing, dropping them to your floor. Your eyes widened to the view of his body, his abs perfectly toned, and your finger drew around the tattoos he had on the left side of his chest.
“I like this tattoo,” you giggled at the Demon and spider tattoos, and he smiled, kissing the side of your head. “But I will always like your puppetmaster tattoo a lot more.”
“Gotta get you a tattoo one day,” Eddie said, and you shook your head. “Get you a pretty tattoo, just like mine, yeah?”
“I’ll think about it,” you said, and he hummed, his fingers hooking under your shirt. You let him take it off of you, undoing your bra by yourself. You hesitantly shimmed off your bra, the straps sliding down your arms, and onto your lap.
You put it on the ground with the other clothes, and you didn’t stare at Eddie as his eyes gawked at your breasts. You were insecure and worried – he was the first guy to ever see your bare body.
Panic slowly rolled in. “Is it okay? Am I okay?”
“Baby,” Eddie breathed, looking up at you, and then at your breasts. “You are so beautiful. This body, all mine to touch and mark.”
Your worries washed away, Eddie planting loving kisses on your breasts.
“Your body is fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, captivated and enthralled by your gracious beauty. “All fucking mine.” He carefully laid you on your back, on the bed, and hovered over you, his lips falling back onto yours. His body rutted against yours, hands at the waistband of your sweatpants,
“Take them off, Eds,” you breathed into the kiss, and his taste was gone for a moment as he listened, stripping off your sweatpants. You were left in your white cotton panties, and he took a second to unbuckle his belt, and then his pants, both landing on the ground.
You and Eddie were only left in your underwear, and you could feel a hard bulge brush against your inner thigh.
Oh, you thought to yourself. That.
“Are you sure you’re ready, doll?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with assuring, doe eyes, and he kissed your forehead. He reached over to his pants, grabbing his wallet from it, and pulled out a small wrapper from it.
You shivered, and your eyes bored into Eddie as he took off his boxers, and you tensed the second you glimpsed at his cock.
You were about to pray to God again, due to the overwhelmingly huge size of Eddie.
Eddie opened up the wrapper, taking out the condom, and slipped it on. You took off your panties and kicked them off, throwing your rosary too, seeing how they joined all other clothing items on the floor.
“It’s going to hurt at first; if you want me to stop, just say so,” Eddie said, and one of his hands held onto yours for comfort as his other was used to guide him into you. You could feel the head of him at your cunt, and you squeezed his hand whilst his cock made its way into you, slowly and bit by bit.
Your back arched, gasping aloud to the feeling of him fulfilling you. Eddie’s hand grasped onto your jaw, holding onto it, forcing you to hold eye contact with him. “Just take me, love,” he mused, and you whimpered in response.
You were being easily stretched and torn apart by his cock, your virtue draining out of you with every brush of him coming in and out of you. You continued to hold onto his hand, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand for assurance you were safe.
Eddie kept a steady, delicate pace, taking a clear eye to how you were already in shambles. He was simply dispossessing you of your longing purity, your body and devotion belonging to him now.
This was Seventh Heaven to you — this was all of the joy and exhilaration you longed for.
Your cunt adjusted to his size, and your hand let go of him, setting both of them onto his shoulders. “More, Eddie. Please,” you pleaded, and he began to drill himself deeper into you, his hands pressing onto your stomach for support.
You squealed, his eyes on the way his cock thrusted into you. Your body elevated upwards, and your glossy eyes caught a glance of the cross above your bed.
If this corruption was so cruel, so vile, why did it feel so fucking amazing?
Flares of euphoria spurred throughout your body as wanton, lewd noises elicited out of your mouth, and filled your bedroom. Embers of pure, raw desire were in Eddie’s eyes the second they fell back into yours, his breath shuddering his rib cages.
A firestorm grew in your stomach, and your nails dug into Eddie’s shoulder, earning a harsh moan out of him. “‘M gonna cum,” you told him, your chest falling up and down rapidly. “I need to cum, Eds.”
“What a sensitive whore you are,” he taunted, and you groaned, the fire spreading into your thighs. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for your God.”
Your lids sealed shut as your climax peaked and rushed out of you, your body moving with a hard jolt to it. Eddie nearly laughed mockingly at you, your delicate, unripe body, now sweating and shaking from sinful sex.
You barely had collected the fact Eddie referred to him as your God, but you didn’t hate it.
You liked it.
“I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth,” Eddie said, and helped you sit up as he took off the condom. “I always told you I’d find a way for you to worship me. Get on your knees, angel.”
Eddie tossed his condom into your trash bin, turning his attention back onto you.
You obeyed, and stumbled to your bedroom floor, collapsing down onto your knees. Eddie seized your rosary, and took the opportunity to tie up your wrists with the symbolized jewelry. You whined, tugging at your hostaged wrists.
“Open your mouth for me,” Eddie said, standing in front of you. Your mouth popped open, and he shoved two fingers into your mouth, creeping them to the back of your throat. You gagged the second his fingers hit your throat, your eyes watering.
You stared up at him with pure and pious eyes, that were almost daunting, too.
“How are you going to be able to take my cock, when you can barely take my fingers, angel?” He asked, and a tear trickled down your cheek. He was amused by this single tear. “You worship me?”
You nodded as his fingers left your mouth, his knuckles brushing along your cheek. “Yes, I worship you. Only you,” you assured, giving the edge of his palm a delicate, small kiss. “You’re my religion.”
He chuckled. “Such a good little thing you are.”
Eddie’s fingers curled into your hair, nails scratching against your scalp. His hips pushed forward, his cock stuffing your opened mouth.
You remembered your friend told you about blowjobs — that you make sure your teeth don’t touch, or it makes it unpleasant. Your friend wasn’t as faithful or pure as you were, only going to Catechism to please her parents.
Eddie’s cock continuously hit the back of your throat, drawing inchorenet gargles from you as tears lined at the brim of your eyes. Your throat was brutalized, yet you soaked into the pain of it, taking pleasure in every second of it.
Your eyes rolled back the deeper his cock went, his teeth gritting together, and moaned your name like a mantra.
Eddie’s head fell back, his hips snapping into your face, and you gurgled, trying your best to breathe out of your nostrils. “Shit, shit, I’m close,” he told you, and that was the only warning you were given, nothing else. “Keep your mouth steady and open for your God, baby.”
His climax flooded into your mouth, your tongue getting a salty taste of his high, and he pushed his cock out of your mouth. He tried to catch his breath, sweat beading at his forehead and body, his fingers unhooking from your hair.
“Let me see, doll,” Eddie said, and you happily showed him the way his cum sat on your tongue. “Mhm, that’s a good girl. Swallow it.”
You closed your mouth, taking it all down at once, and he kissed the top of your head. He unknotted the rosary, and your wrists were glad to be free.
Eddie sat the jewelry on your bed stand, and helped you up, sitting you down on your bed afterwards. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He panicked, and you shook your head, a few strands of your hair matted to your teary, sweating cheeks.
“Did I do okay?” You asked, and he frowned, cupping your cheeks, caressing them lovingly with his thumbs.
“You were wonderful, sweet girl. So good,” he reassured, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and dressed. You still have that project.”
You groaned, barely remembering it. “Oh fuck!”
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nerdy-novelist017 · 7 months ago
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A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)
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Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!
Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL
Benny x Bunny Masterlist
Word Count- 2.2K
Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.
******
“Benny’s been asking for ya.”
Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”
“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.
“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza. 
“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”
“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”
Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”
“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”
“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”
“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”
“What plans?”
“My date.”
“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”
“Pete,” you said quietly. 
“Who?” she asked again.
You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?” 
Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.
“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.
“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”
“Yeah?” 
At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”
“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.
You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time. 
In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—
You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.
“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”
There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”
********
Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at. 
Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.
You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.
“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you. 
Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels. 
You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 
“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride. 
“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.  
“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.  
“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.
You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”
“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.
You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you. 
“Why are you here?” he questioned.
“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”
“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Why not?”
“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head. 
Benny shrugged. “So?”
You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”
Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?
“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude. 
He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”
You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.
Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.
******
The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date. 
Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon. 
But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?
Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date. 
Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.
“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn. 
Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name. 
He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.
“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”
“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny. 
“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.  
“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment. 
“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately. 
“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins. 
“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly. 
He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities. 
*Tag List*
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justrymesblog · 17 days ago
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Before you read this, I want you to know that this message might be hard to hear, but it could also be the beginning of the change you’ve been seeking.
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Many of us, myself included, spend our lives searching for a savior, an epiphany, or something external to rescue us: a book, a speech, a mentor, a sign. We think that this one thing will open the doors to a better life. We cling desperately to small details, convincing ourselves they’re the confirmation we need to keep going: mirror numbers on a clock, a fallen feather, a butterfly crossing our path. We say, “It’s a sign from the universe, I’m on the right track”—all while staying trapped in a cycle we hate but find so hard to escape.
We often become slaves to the material world. We buy talismans, books, or listen to subliminal audios on repeat, seeking immediate results: “Why isn’t this audio working?”, “How many times do I need to listen to it to see a change?” We even sleep with headphones on, hoping it will speed up the process, yet the change never seems to come.
I understand you because I’ve been there.
It took me years to escape that cycle. Years of feeling lost, stuck, tied to my own thoughts and patterns. I spent months not knowing what to do, always ending up back at the same point. I turned to religions where I never felt truly at home. I prayed in churches, temples, and altars, waiting for miracles that never came. I lived believing that something external would change my destiny, but each attempt only led to disappointment. The reality? Nothing changed—or worse, things got even harder.
Then I realized: the only salvation comes from within.
We are the architects of our lives. Our minds are the most powerful tool we have. There are no limits beyond the ones we impose on ourselves. Imagine something unimaginable—a dream, a reality that seems impossible—and yet, you have the power to manifest it! But here’s the challenge: you must truly believe it. You must understand that you are in complete control.
If you want to be wealthy, you can achieve it. If you desire perfect health, unconditional love, travel, or anything else, it’s within your reach. Nothing is too big or too small for your creative power. But first, you must let go of limiting ideas like, “I wasn’t born rich” or “My life would have been different if I had better advantages.” These thoughts are just chains you’ve placed on yourself.
The first step to change is to take full responsibility for everything that has happened in your life. Yes, everything. It’s difficult, but that’s the key: accepting that you created your current reality, which means you also have the power to transform it.
If you’re tired of living the same way, PUT AN END TO IT.
Dare to change. Break free from everything that limits you. Rebuild your story from scratch. One of my favorite phrases always reminds me:
"When you see no way out, remember: the end is the beginning of everything."
Did you know there are scientific experiments that prove the incredible power of our minds? The CIA has documented studies on practices like remote viewing, where individuals can perceive things beyond space and time. These studies are not theories or pseudoscience—they are real evidence of our infinite potential.
There are also studies about how our thoughts impact matter. Researchers like Masaru Emoto demonstrated how our emotions and words can alter the molecular structure of water. If our words can affect something as tangible as water, imagine what they can do to your life, your cells, and your entire reality.
The limits don’t exist, except in your mind.
Life is as malleable as clay in the hands of a sculptor. And you are the sculptor. The question is no longer “What can I achieve?” but “What can’t I create?”
The time you have is precious. Use it to build the life you truly want, because the only obstacle standing between you and your dreams is you. The key is to believe and to act from that powerful force within you.
Remember: nothing is impossible. The moment to transform your life begins now.
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miley1442111 · 8 months ago
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drunk confession-a.hotchner
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a/n: omg i just started watching dharma and greg (another thomas gibson show) and it's so funny like wtf (greg is such an airhead its adorable)
summary: aaron admits some very cute things when he's drunk.
pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader
warnings: none
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The team constantly forgets that you and Aaron are together. You two don’t touch each other at all during the job. Both of you are very pda-averse and you like your own space. 
That does not translate to a drunk Aaron.
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It had been an awful case, and you’d decided to go out with the team for a few drinks. Somehow, Penelope and Derek had gotten Aaron so drunk, that his hands were all over you and he was sporting his little-seen smile. Your co-workers had decided to take the absolute piss out of him for it, which meant you were being mocked as well. 
“She’s so beautiful,” Aaron gushed to the team as he slung an arm over your shoulder.  
“Thanks baby,” you grumbled over the laughing of our coworkers. You could feel Aaron’s hand on your waist slipping lower and you knew you’d have to get him out of here before he did something down-right indecent. “How about we get you home? You look tired,” you offered and he nodded his head like an overactive puppy. 
After one more round of embarrassing questions, you finally get Aaron into a cab and back to your house, thank god this case had been in Washington. You laid him down on the bed and hurried to the bathroom to take off your makeup and get ready for bed before Aaron got up to find you. Jack was long asleep, his babysitter left after you and Aaron came in, a surprised look on his face at seeing the man she’d known to be so put-together in such a state.
“Aar-” You started until you felt his hands on your waist and the rest of his body leaning on your. It took a lot of strength to keep both of you upright and not on the floor but you managed. 
“I wanna go to bed,” he slurred. 
“Then go back to bed,” you laughed.
“With you. Only with you.”
You giggled at him. “I’ll be there in 3 minutes, go lie down-”
“NO. I wanna do everything with you for the rest of my life, I’m not going to bed on my own,” he confessed with a shy smile. His confession sobered you up quite a bit. 
“Aaron, what?” Your chuckle got caught in your throat. 
“I wanna be with you for the rest of my life,” he smiled, puppy-dog eyes making you weak in the knees. 
“You’re drunk,” you dismissed him.
“I’m in love,” he ‘corrected’. 
“You’re very, very drunk.”
“I’m very, very in love,” he chuckled, pressing kisses up your shoulder as you washed away your makeup.  “Imagine it, we’d get married in a nice church, go on our honeymoon in Italy- where you’ve always wanted to go.”
“What about Jack?” You smiled at him. 
“He’d stay with Jessica for a couple weeks, I’d need some time to fuck you properly-”
“Aaron!” You chastised. Aaron became a lot more loose-tongued when he drank as well. 
“What? You don’t complain,” he laughed and it made you laugh. 
“You’re so drunk, and you’re going to be so embarrassed when i tell you in the morning,” you started to lead him to bed as he kept rambling on. 
“And when we get back we’ll find out you’re pregnant, It’ll be a girl, of course. You’ll have no complications and then a year later we’d be pregnant again, twins this time, so we’d have to move. It’ll be two more girls, and then our last kid will be a boy but we’ll also be preoccupied with Jack’s pre-teenager hatred phase so our youngest will probably have the most troublemaker-tendencies, but neither of us will mind because he’ll be so cute,” He smiled. “We’ll get one of those big houses in the country on a bunch of land. And I’ll stay at home with the kids, and you’ll work lecturing at a college nearby and we’ll be so far away from all the horrors of the BAU that we won’t even remember what happened before.”
You didn’t even realise it, but you were tearing up thinking about this beautiful life Aaron had planned for the two of you. 
“Doesn’t that sound nice?” He smiled and turned to you, his arms wrapping around your torso. 
“That sounds perfect,” you whispered through tears. “Perfect Aaron,” you smiled at him and kissed his cheek. 
“Good ‘cause I have the ring picked out, but don’t tell Y/n!” 
“I won’t don’t worry,” you chuckled and kissed his cheek again.
You fell asleep excited to tell him all the embarrassing things he admitted, and excited about the proposal yet to come. 
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Part 2: the morning after
criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
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