#local priest wants to talk about the gods so bad all the time but doesn't want to be weird about it

[angle0fthegourd]

LDB: You don't speak of Akatosh often, why?

Jhnual: Well... *Becomes an unskippable cutscene*

[thoughtsofatransboy]

"Forgiven"

Priest!Gerard x Ftm!Reader

Warning: NSFW, Dark content? Grammar mistakes I'm not a native English speaker, Probably doesn't make sense cuz i don't have a clue of what people do in a Catholic church, Religious guilty, Sin confession, Religious mention (what you expected? It's a priest), kinda of blasphemy? (Idk, you're fucking a priest inside the church, is it blasphemy?) Ftm reader, low-key dysphoria mentions. (Ignore Frank lol)

Synopsis: You're a low-key religious ftm guy, Father Way is the only one who understands you and don't judge you by your gender, but how can you confess to him when he is the one in your sinning thoughts?

"Here i am..." You said, finally arriving the little church. Despite you being trans, you still kind of religious, anytime you think you sin, you feel a necessity to confess, but this time you went too far.

The sin of Lust. But you made it WORST. You were fucking desiring a priest, the local priest, the only one who supported you on being yourself. You were feeling horrible, but what could you do? Father Way was the hottest guy you ever seen, the way he moves, the way he talks and the way we calmly listen to you everytime you need to confess.

You see Father Way, when he looks back to you, he goes to you. "Hello Son, need to confess again?"

You nod timidly, nothing else to say. Trying to figure out how to manage through this situation, how could you confess to him when he's the reason you sinned? Well, it's not like you have time to think now, he's already leading you to the confessional.

As you sat down, he noticed you were very nervous, in an attempt to calm you down, he said "Calm down my dear... Tell me your sins, you will be forgiven... There's nothing in the world that you do that can't be forgiven. The tone he said it could make your body melt right there, it's not your fault that he's so sexy even while trying to be modest, isn't it? Oh... How could God forgive you when you are sinning inside his own house? Inside the church?

"Dear? Are you feeling nice?" Father Way's voice breaks your mental focus, now you know you need to start it or at least say something. "Sorry Father, I'm going to start..." You left out a pity and anxious sigh. "I've been lustful... Filthy thoughts... And about someone i shouldn't..."

"A married man?" It was the worst he was expecting, honestly. "No... E-even worse" Father Way raised an eyebrow... suspecting of who could be the one making you have naughty thoughts.

"Then? Who is it?" You swallow it hard, getting more and more anxious. "A...a p-priest. I-i visited another church last week and-and i met a young priest and he's...cute" Fuck! You're a horrible liar. "hmmm... I see, i see... I'm not going to lie, it is a pretty bad sin... But you can receive forgiveness, just don't do it again and pray asking God for forgiveness, He will listen to your plead, I'm sure"

"But father... i-i..." You shut your eyes down, trying to breath but you couldn't, the guilty was too much, some tears started to roll down by your face. "Father... the... priest... is..is..." You decide to tell it, if you didn't the guilty would eat you alive. "You! You're the one in my thoughts! My worst ones"

Way was impressed, the confessional was suddenly silent but after some seconds, that felt like years, he smirked a little "Oh sweet boy... What a bad, naughty boy... you've been getting all aroused because of me?" You blink three times in shock, you really hope you aren't dreaming...

"F-father... what are you saying-?" You're more nervous than before, happy that Way's teasing you but shy at the same time. "Oh... You know very well what I'm saying" He stepped off of the confessional cabin, getting closer and closer to you, the gap between you and he is very little. He started to kiss you jaw getting closer to your ear "Want this? Couldn't lie... I've been a little interested in you too... But you're probably happy with it, aren't you? Don't lie" You could only nod. "Great" without you noticing he was already with his hands all over your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"I'll fuck your sins out of you, 'kay? So you get satisfied and won't do it ever again... You so shy today... Where's my brave boy?" You couldn't hold it anymore, you pull him into a kiss, a deep and lustful kiss. You guys separate it after some time, in the need to breath. "There he is! There he fucking is..." He started to kiss and suck in your neck, whispering praises to you "Such a sweet boy, so pretty, so handsome... You're very handsome, aren't you?"

You could only whine and moan while he attached your neck, but you wouldn't let it go this easily. You pushed him, making him enter the confessional cabin, once he entered it, you didn't thought twice before sitting on his lap, now your time to suck and kiss his neck, licking and holding tight on his shoulders. "Oh my God boy... You gonna kill me this way.... Argh!" Way tried to hold his moans, too proud to let them out. You grind against his lap, making friction against his bulge, the bulge you only noticed now that he sat down. You kissed him deep once again, harmoniously wrapping his tongue with yours, it was a messy and sloppy kiss, but one full of desire.

"Aaaa...Mmm.. okay boy! 'kay! Got it dude... you're in control, Kay? Kay?" You smirk, happy that he finally admitted it. "We need to be quickly, soon we'll have a mass..." You got in your knees, already pulling out his cassock. Once you removed it, you already started to kiss and tease his bulge, once you remove his cock from the boxers, you look at him, with a naughty smile, his cheeks all flushed and his breath hot.

You kiss and lick the tip of his cock, taking the opportunity to massage his balls, his cock throbbing crazily and his moans echoing around. "Yeah! T-that's my dude... A good cock sucker... Mmm... My little cock sucker, thank you... Argh! Thank you.... C-can i suck your dick too?" You stopped your sucking, glaring at him, nodding as quick as you processed the information.

Way put you on his place, crawling between your legs, unbuttoning your jeans and pushing your boxers down. The groan he left out was nothing but pure carnally desire. "What a pretty dick... What a pretty hot hole... I love it" He started licking delicately over your t-dick, kissing and sucking making you melt in pleasure. "Can i finger you? D-do you like it?" You nodded, Way inserted two fingers into your hole, not focused in being quick but in touching your sweet spots. He felt you clench hard around his fingers, he giggled silently, going back into sucking your t-dick. "Good... You're going to cum for me, huh? Gonna cum for me handsome?..." You finally reached your climax, moaning high and shameless, for a second being grateful that the church was empty today.

Your legs were a little shaking, so he put you on his lap a little, stroking your hair. "Forget that shit about being quick...my handsome...so good for me... You were incredible..." He kissed your cheek and kept stroking your hair. After some minutes you both decided to take the next step, he stroked himself a little, rubbing against your entrance. "Shh... Shh... I'll take care of you handsome, i promise" He pushed it into you slowly and delicately, like he was touching a piece of glass. His firsts thrusts were deep and slow, letting you adjust to him and afraid of hurting you. "You too tight... Oh God..." He started bucking his hips into yours, his thrusts getting faster and faster, you bucking your hips down on his too, increasing the deepness and the friction, you both left out a cracked moan. "F-Father... Oh my gosh... You're so good... So hot..."

You guys muffled each other's moans with kisses. "I love you Way! I love you..." you bucked your hips particularly harder this time. "Thanks handsome... i love you! I-i love you too....!" You're reaching your climax along with him. "Aaaa! D-dude... Gonna c-cum on my cock sweet boy? I think you really sh-should!" You clenched hard around his cock, finally cumming. He didn't lasted that long after you finished, he bucked his hips one last time before cumming inside you. He kissed your lips with a soft sigh. "You're incredible... I'm happy to have you... So pretty and hot.." you giggled a little, resting your head on his shoulder. "Forgiven" you both crack in a laugh, he stroked your hair a little more. "I'll help you to get dressed, the mass will start very, very soon... When it finishes, I'll bring you home and we'll cuddle together, okay?" You only nodded, pecking his lips while he helped you to put your boxers on again. You left the confessional cabin, taking a seat waiting for the mass to start. Smiling silly everytime you locked your eyes into his, now you're deep in sin, but really happy.

[amymbona]

priest!patrick corrupting reader and her wanting to be corrupted liking the thrill of it all please

But he doesn't even mean to :( He's just being friendly, a bit unconventional, yeah, but he never does anything out right bad. He doesn't even touch you in any weird ways, at least not yet.

All Patrick does is talk to you when you decide to ditch the market, letting your siblings sell the vintage looking goods and dishes your family makes. He sits next to you on one of the church benches and listens to you rant about the annoying grandmas who seem to be tracking each and every step of the local young ladies. Soon, these little meetings turn into personal gossip sessions, filled with mutual sense of understanding but also something deeply forbidden.

Some days, you're with Patrick until the late evening, watching him perform his little rituals which consist of walking around the perimeter of the church, lighting every candle, caressing every little crucifix and straightening all the paintings on the wall. He looks extremely professional, extremely devoted to God and you can't help but wish you understood the lord's existence as deeply as he does. Perhaps that could allow for the two of you to get even closer.

You should go, he tells you when the sun is setting, and then calls you dear od darling which makes it harder for you to leave. Eventually you have to, though, and at home you get spanked for returning after the set curfew. But your sore ass is worth every minute spent with Patrick.

He shows up in your dreams that night, and the following one, and the night after that as well. Something bordering between the thrill of doing what you shouldn't and the lust over a man so unique begins filling your girlish mind. You've never dated before, never spoken to a man in such a way, as your parents believe you should marry one of their family friends' sons. Safe to say you're against that.

"What were you doing before this?" you ask Patrick the next day, again perched up on one of the benches.

Patrick is standing by the confession booth, buttoning up the white collar of his uniform. "Nothing your pretty ears should hear."

You roll your eyes but your heart flutters at his choice of words. You mutter his name - he allowed you to call him that, not father, which he said he doesn't find fitting, considering your two ages - and get up, slowly moving towards him. "I bet it's not worse than what the gossip says."

He chuckles, finally offering you one of his signature smiles. "Some little thefts, lots of weed and even more sex. And a few tattoos on top."

A sharp gasp escapes your pink painted lips at his confession, the irony of the situation failing to hit you, that in a few minutes, he shall be the one hearing out people's sins. And yet there he stands, in his dark cloak, with his curls nicely combed, and tells you how much of an asshole man he used to be before he got on the right path. You realise that the really is - used to be - everything you parents have warned you about. But now, he isn't any of that, is he? He's God's most loyal servant, the embodiment of everything good.

"You have more?" completely ignoring the previous statements, already imagining where else might his skin be ink coloured.

Patrick sighs, taking one of your hands in his tenderly. He runs a thumb over your knuckles, his head tilting to the sight in that pity resembling gesture. "You should go. The confession is about to begin."

So you leave, not wanting to bump into your insanely religious neighbour who doesn't miss a single confession time and would absolutely tell your parents if she saw you in the young priest's presence.

Patrick ignores you completely on Sunday, not sparing you a single glance. He seems more strained and a bit more professional, standing with his back completely straight. You rub your thighs together, your whole body itching, as you hope to catch his gaze. Nothing. He just speaks, speaks and speaks without drawing any differences between his audience.

So the next time Patrick is hidden on the other side of the confessional, you enter the little space - after checking you are the last one and nobody else should come after you - and assume your position on the knees.

"What sins do you have to confess?" he asks in that smoothly calming voice of his, still haven't seen your face through the thick curtain.

You brace your hands on the parapet separating the two tiny booths, feeling the warmth of his presence through the thick velvet curtain. "I want to get a tattoo."

The curtain is pulled to the side harshly, and you're met with Patrick's contorted face, his eyes boring into you as hot as fire. The ornamented oak construction casts shadows over his handsome face, hiding every single one of his emotions.

"No you don't," he protests. You can't. He knows that if you painted something permanent on your virgin body, your catholic family would send you into the scorching pits of hell, and not even he would be capable of saving you. Even something so mundane as a little ink painting would make you the most devilish human of this place. He can't allow that.

"I do," you bite back in a protest, brows furrowing. "And I will."

As you scramble out of the confessional, Patrick immediately follows, wrapping a big hand around your arm and yanking you back towards him. "You are not doing that to yourself."

You scoff. As if he could ever tell you what you are or aren't allowed to do. "Why? Who's gonna stop me? You? God?"

"You're so stupid," he hisses, grabbing both of your shoulders and digging his long fingers into your untouched flesh. Even the small gasp he draws from your lips is enough to tell you'd be crying one the thick needle would pierce your skin. And that would be the least of ache you'd feel. "Just go home. Sit with your parents and talk about your day. Forget about this."

With an expression mixed of determination and irritated frown, you pull away from Patrick. Like hell you'll do that.

[eattherichplease]

These are my six oldest Pokémon on Pokémon Go. You may think they are my six oldest by chance, just because they're the ones that remain after many others were freed, given away or exchanged over time... but that's not the case! There's a reason for precisely those six being my oldest. They tell a story.

Cleffa is my oldest Pokémon. My mother gave it to me as a present when I was a little kid. Cleffa was a sweet baby, a harmless little fairy with lots of love to give and not a bad thought in his mind. During my early childhood through my teenage years he was pal, plushie, pet, occasional pillow, mischief partner, playmate, constant companion, confidante... everything really. He's always by my side in all of my childhood photos. He ate meals by my side, I carried him to school in my bag, we watched cartoons together, I hugged him in my sleep (still do)... The whole starter deal. We talked gibberish to each other with great conviction for hours without end (there's videos). He keeps talking gibberish still, but now as always I understand him perfectly, even if no one else does. He has an habit of singing lullabies to himself when he's alone and loves moonbathing. He goes with me wherever I go. Time changed him very little. He's a simple guy with lots of feelings and very little thoughts. His mind is often in the clouds. He can remain hours looking at the sky, not a thought in his little mind, perfectly contempt. He is a literal ray of moonlight and a pink blob of love and care. He doesn't seem to be interested in evolving or doing anything else really. He was baby and remains baby.

Registeel was a very different story. I didn't want another Pokémon, see, but he chose me, somehow, for some reason, understandable only to him. And so he was bestowed to me, without warning, in a very serious ceremony held by a small delegation of priests, elders and some of my little town government officials. They said Registeel, who had been our village guardian deity for centuries, had made it clear that he wanted to leave. The town didn't need any more protecting anymore, apparently. He had chosen me to be his companion and go with him... somewhere, nobody knew where. I was supposed to be honored, but I felt lost. I had absolutely no training as a trainer (Cleffa didn't count, not really). And Registeel was huge, and scary, very intimidating, a hulking titan of pure steel, a six-feet tall seven-eyed eldritch monstrosity with claws and more importantly, a literal god, or rather an aspect of a god, or an avatar of... I don't get theology. He's The Registeel and a registeel both, at the same time. Or so they told me. Anyway, you can't say no to Him! So off we went. I left my town with Cleffa by my side and Registeel voluntarily confined in an ultraball, the only type of ball that would hold him (but only for short periods of time).

Before we left town though, I realized that, with Registeel helping us, we could finally be able to get rid of that annoying Weezing that had decided to make herself comfortable in our local landfill and was making things difficult for our beloved garbage men. We made quick work of her, and I decided to keep it with me as a member of our team, thinking a poison type would be useful in my travels. I was right. Weezing has always been grumpy, but she's powerful, resourceful, loyal to a fault, and tireless, with an amazing stamina and self-control. She keeps her fumes in check so as not to hurt Cleffa, which she loves dearly, or me. She may seem slow and tardy, but she actually has very acute senses and good reflexes, and she's always ready to defend us from anything. She senses danger before we can see it or hear it. Her ability to produce a dense fog has saved us many times, keeping us out of sight and well-protected, and her poison is an amazing deterrent. She's a champion of many battles.

Finally, after beating Weezing -and getting a thank you note from the Mayor-, my mother realized I was serious about the whole business of leaving town with a steel-god to go on adventures or whatever, and so she decided to lend me a hand, and some Pokémon.

She had been a not-very-successful flying-type trainer in her youth, long ago, and she still had a few feathered pals around the house. Her most beloved were Staravia, an old lady who had been her own starter, her Murkrow, the only shiny she was ever able to catch, an Perfect the Fearow, the only perfect Pokémon -Nurse Joy certified!- in the house and indeed, in the whole town.

Staravia seems to think its her job to train me and not the other way around, which is fair I guess -she often reminds me of my mother, even if she uses her beak instead of words to chastise me. From the very beginning she decided that, if she was to travel at her age, she would make herself comfortable. She made a nest in Registeel's head, that henceforth was forced to act as a moving turret for her. He seems to be happy with that purpose and has forgotten all about going to mysterious places. I think.

Murkrow can be insufferable. She is spoiled. She knows she's special, since my mother told her everyday of her life, and she demands special treatment in everything... but she has a good heart, even if her favorite hobby is pulling pranks on the rest of us. Successfully by the way. She is too clever for her own good, or ours.

Fearow, poor thing, grew up hearing she was perfect, and it got to her head. She is not vain like Murkrow, but she actually, 100% believed she was the most powerful Pokémon to ever live in the entire world, since she was at the peak of the hierarchy and the food chain, so to speak, back at home, by virtue of her long beak and impressive wingspan. The constant company of living-god Registeel humbled her, and battles taught her she was actually quite weak. Not anymore though! She's a powerhouse now. She acts as scout in the field, traveling far and coming back to report on the best way to go. We would be lost in some forest without her.

And that's it! These six Pokémon are still with me! They have been with me all this years, and they're my constant companions. I told you there was a reason for them being the oldest entries in my registry!

What about yours?