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#& the imagery of that would be PERFECT.
buddiesmutslut · 15 days
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Saw a post that Tommy is Abby 2.0 & that feels SO REAL (older & more mature, introducing Buck to a different way of thinking, knows the job intimately, not quite as into him as he is into them 🫣).
I just hope Tommy leaves in a much better way, bc he gives off good vibes and I ADORE LOU.
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bode-rook · 8 months
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Gonna start shipping Astarion and Karlach just to annoy the haters. I’m calling it Astarlach
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secretmellowblog · 1 year
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Me: I'm gonna stop procrastinating and create a Les Mis comic! Finally, I'll draw something related to the main story! Me: Okay step one is doing in depth research on the historical boats of the period (similar to the Orion), what these ships and their harbors would've looked like, and creating an extremely high-effort historically accurate 3D model reflecting that research-- Me: oh god. this is why Victor Hugo does all those history tangents...ive been in the fandom long enough to attempt to start making my own Digressions
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television-overload · 7 months
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Mulder and William watching Pixar's short film "Lifted" in 2007 and giggling like fools
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"But dad, aren't aliens gray?"
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blueren · 1 year
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East
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bladesalvation · 1 month
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Nihil Rot + At Camp
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brown-little-robin · 9 months
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so many feelings about Noragami in the club tonight 😭
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IT'S SO DRAMATIC BUT IT'S SO GOOD *froths at mouth* IT'S THE BEST DEPICTION OF SIN AND REPENTANCE I'VE EVER SEEN AND IT'S SO UNASHAMEDLY DRAMATIC AND SILLY AND IT HITS ALL MY BUTTONS I SWEAR
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toaster-trash · 10 months
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How many times have I watched The Hunchback of Notre Dame in the past week? *sweating* next question
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homosociallyyours · 1 year
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(cw for gun violence & racism mentions in tag post)
#was reading about the kid who got shot for ringing a white man's door bell#and feeling so angry bc i can't help thinking that white cultural demands perfection from black victims#oh a kid got shot? how were his grades? what extracurriculars did he do?#i would be just as sad and angry about this shit if this boy was a high school dropout#i would feel like screaming even if he had been ringing door bells as a prank instead of trying to pick up his siblings#i want to live in a world where children don't get shot#where white people aren't ruled by the irrational fear of black and brown people that's been taught since this country was colonized#and as always I'm sitting here looking at the situation & knowing that my whiteness keeps me at a distance from being like the victim here#as much as it repulses me to think about it-- i know I'm closer to the shooter#so many years of watching this violence unfold again and again is like staring at your guts spilling out of you#viscera and mess and rot all spilling out.#and just when you start to think you've made progress cleaning it up it all explodes out again#ugh.#sorry for the imagery it's just. this kid shouldn't have been shot and neither should trayvon martin or mike brown#or the countless others who have been turned into cardboard cutouts with lists of achievements and names we're supposed to keep saying#over and fucking over#i don't want to say any more names. bc i don't want there to BE anymore.#sorry i just had to get that all out
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wildflowercryptid · 7 months
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... *quietly puts bad apple!! on my kieran fanmix*
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alliluyevas · 2 years
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r/namenerds post: what names are tired of seeing in media? books/tv/movies
the first name mentioned: the name of the main character in a current wip of mine
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silhouettecrow · 5 months
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 323
Adjective: Grey
Noun: Treeline
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Grey: of a color intermediate between black and white, as of ashes or lead; (of the weather) cloudy and dull; (of a person) having gray hair; (informal) relating to old people collectively; (of a person's face) pale, as through tiredness, age, or illness; without interest or character, or dull and nondescript; (of financial or trading activity) not accounted for in official statistics
Treeline: (on a mountain) the line or altitude above which no trees grow; (in high northern (or southern) latitudes) the line north (or south) of which no trees grow; (in high northern (or southern) latitudes) the line north (or south) of which no trees grow
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drchucktingle · 5 months
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i have copied this comment without name because i think it is very kind and respectful and i do not want buckaroos interpreting it the wrong way. PLEASE UNDERSTAND this buckaroo is very sincere and has important points and please respect their way. i am going to answer in a way that is counter to their point and i do not want buds to go after them IN ANY WAY. THEY ARE PROVING LOVE AND THEY HAVE GOOD POINTS
okay here is what i have to say:
i have not transitioned and in this lifetime i do not expect to. i think you have a good point of 'how can you know?' and honestly i cannot know that is just how timelines and reality and perception work
HOWEVER i must caution against this train of thought slightly because what works for one buckaroos MAY NOT WORK for another. every time i talk about my non-dysphoric way there are plenty of well meaning buds, particularly fellow trans buds, who show up with posts in the tone of 'its only matter of time.' like i just do not understand yet.
this reminds me of bisexual buckaroos who are told 'you just do not know you are gay yet'. as difficult as it is to step out of our own dang minds, i implore buckaroos to accept that there VERY JOYFUL AND FULFILLED NON-DYSPHORIC TRANS BUCKAROOS who do not need to transition and never will and are healthy and happy without that. just like there are bisexual buckaroos who are not just on their way to being gay
a good way to look at it is like this: I LOVE MY MALE BODY. i think i am a very handsome buckaroo. i have masculine features in my muscle and height and frame. as far as how fate could have placed me on this timeline I WON MY OWN PERSONAL FOOTRACE. i am up on the podium and i am standing here with a medal around my neck. GOOD JOB CHUCK
HOWEVER when i look down i see that medal is silver. i am not going to lie and say it is gold. it is silver.
YES my gold medal is a female body. that is an objective truth to my trot. i believe my gender way is that of a women, but there is no part of me that is upset about where i have placed.
I GOT SILVER. i am not upset. there is no tragedy. in fact i am OVERWHLEMED WITH JOY not just to be on the podium but to be in this race in the first place. HECK YEAH I DID IT AND I GOT A MEDAL
of course this is not to dismiss the difficult journey of others. many do not feel the way i do and their trot is VALID. a dysphoric way matters and is important and these voices are important. they should be elevated and supported. i understand some do not share this podium imagery, and they feel PAINED by trappings of their body.
i feel so much for this. i understand and care for my dysphoric buds, but the simple truth is that is not my story. i cant just lie and say that it is.
it will never be my story. i cannot say this enough: i love my body. however i STILL believe my truest way is that of a ladybuck. if it was a simple button push to change me, then i would push it without hesitation.
but it is not a simple button push.
talk to almost any buckaroo who has transitioned and they will say 'transitioning is hard'. it takes time and work and money and emotional support. i am in awe of the bravery of buckaroos who trot this path, but all of that is not worth it for something that i already feel good about. SCRATCH THAT, i feel GREAT ABOUT. i feel overwhelmed with joy every day over just existing in this male body that i have been blessed with. YES buckaroo, i feel joy existing in a male body that i know is ladybuck on the inside. it feels interesting a cool and exciting.
but my truest way is STILL a ladybuck trot
i guess i am just trying to say that i love second place. im happy to celebrate it. i think my male body is really dang cool. it is not a 'perfect me' but it is really dang awesome, and i never really bothered with trying to be perfect
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lillybean730 · 1 year
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gonna restart cyberpunk with all of my non binary mods installed fuck yea
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astraystayyh · 8 months
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hyunjin with glasses and a tiny ponytail brainrot
fluff and kissing and Hyune is too pretty and suggestive in the end (so mdni)
also can you tell I'm obsessed with the imagery of hyunjin and lipstick stains????? this is a recurrent theme atp
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you're sitting on the bathroom countertop, knees tightly hugged to your chest as hyunjin brushes his teeth next to you. it's a bit silly, you admit, to watch in silence while he completes the most mundane tasks. but every second spent not looking at him feels like a wasted one to you.
"put this on for me?" he suddenly asks, his golden necklace dangling between his fingers, a sweet smile brightening his face. you nod, as hyunjin hands you the dainty chain and turns his back to you.
you swiftly clasp the necklace in place, before letting your fingers trail across the nape of his neck. "your hair's gotten longer," you remark, as you gently brush your hand through it.
"mm. do you like it?" he asks. and by the grin that can be heard in his voice, he already knows the answer to this.
"i do. very pretty," you whisper, as you gather a small section of his hair and twist it into a tiny ponytail. hyunjin turns around once you're done, and you pull him closer by the hem of his black cashmere shirt.
he's standing between your legs, strong, toned arms are on either side of your body as you tuck away some strands of his bangs, framing his face with them.
his eyes soften once they finally meet yours and you grin sheepishly at the impromptu hair updo, "you should put your hair up more often."
hyunjin tilts his head to the side, bringing his face closer to yours in the process. and you're suddenly blushing, profusely. you can't help it, not when he looks this pretty, his leg nudging your thigh every now and then. "it seems like you love my hair too much," he pouts, gently taking off your glasses and placing them on the bridge of his nose.
"does these fit me too?" he questions, his thumb rubbing featherlight circles on your bare knee. you can't speak, words elusive as your eyes run wild over his face.
you don't know exactly how you ended up this way- caged between his arms and dazed by how perfect he looks. you didn't even know that a tiny ponytail and a pair of glasses would affect you this much. but he's dizzying, in the most delicious way, and you suddenly don't want him to go out anymore.
"what? cat got your tongue," he smirks, as he grazes your cheek gently. the contrast between his mocking words and gentle touch puts your body on overdrive. it feels like a flame is blazing across your skin and yet you're floating in cold water.
"excuse me for being attracted to my boyfriend," you finally respond, tucking strands of his bangs behind his ear. "you can't really blame me, can you?" you chastise, your lips grazing the corner of his mouth. "not when you look like this."
"like what?" he giggles, before pressing his rosy lips onto yours.
"too pretty," you whisper against his mouth and he smiles onto the kiss, his hands finding your waist and holding it gently.
"i know how to make you prettier though," you grin secretly and he cocks an eyebrow at you in response. "close your eyes, for me. please, hyune?"
hyunjin knows he might run late if he doesn't leave in a few minutes, but he can never say no to you. so he closes his eyes, letting darkness surround him as he hears you rummage through a nearby drawer.
after a few, quiet seconds, you make hyunjin stand between your legs once again. your warm hands cradle his face, and then you press the softest kiss onto his lips. then his cheeks. his forehead. and the corner of his mouth. you kiss the tip of his nose and he goes to remove his glasses, but you stop him. "leave them on."
hyunjin's eyes are still closed, as your hands trail down his chest, before curling around his neck. that's where you place your next kiss, right where his pulse is wildly beating. you then move to the sensitive skin under his ear, and you can feel the goosebumps running across his body. "seems like I'm not the only one affected here."
"I never claimed not to be affected by you," he shrugs, and the sincerity of his statement makes the butterflies in your stomach surge ten times fold.
"open your eyes," you finally say, moving hyunjin to the mirror next to you, quiet giggles escaping your lips. there, he finds your red lipstick imprints all over his face, down the curve of his neck. soft kisses scorched into his skin, sealed in there forever.
"see, this is the prettiest you've ever been, baby."
hyunjin shakes his head, before standing in front of you again. there is a fond smile on his face as he runs his thumb across your red lips, where your lipstick is surely smudged by now. "you know i need to go out, right?"
"this should send off anyone who'll try to talk to you."
"as if I'll ever look at anyone else but you."
"you can't keep saying things like this and expect me not to pass out."
"then what should i do?" hyunjin smirks down at you, as you wrap your legs around his waist.
"you should stay home and ruin my lipstick even more."
"will the glasses stay on?" hyunjin muses, as he finally picks you up, his hands holding your thighs securely. you won.
"they will."
"and the ponytail too?"
"mm.." you run your fingers through his hair, tugging at it gently. "it will."
"i should've never asked you to help with my necklace," hyunjin chuckles as he leads you to your bedroom.
"why, do you regret this?" you question playfully and he shakes his head, lowering you onto the bed gently.
"no. not even a little bit."
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porcelainseashore · 2 months
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Heavenly Creatures
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Pairing: Altar Boy! Leon Kennedy x Catholic School Girl! Reader
Summary: Growing up in a conservative, Catholic community, you and Leon were kept apart as kids for your own good. However, a fateful encounter at church many years later causes you to question those boundaries.
Content & Warnings: 18+ Smut, porn with plot, unprotected p in v, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (f receiving), semi-public sex (church), Catholicism, religious imagery & symbolism, temptation, guilt, shaming, name-calling, growing up, smoking, swearing, romance, fluff, secret relationship.
Authors' Note: Leon and Reader are in senior high and 18 when smut happens. No guarantee that you won’t burn in hell after reading this 🔥😂
Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for being my sounding board + shadesoflsk & Cameron for your helpful feedback.
AO3 Link
Snake. Devil. Satan’s spawn.
Those were the names you had grown accustomed to as a child. You didn’t know why you were called them, instead of the one your parents had given you. You were too little to understand. All you knew was that you were made to feel different. Maybe you were really an anomaly from the rest after all.
Instead of being quiet and shy, you were loud and boisterous. It was natural for you, seeing as you were going through your tomboy phase, which was the exact reason your parents had stuck to when they received complaints about your behavior. They laughed it off, while others reigned their daughters in, forcing them into perfect Sunday dresses, braided hair adorned with pastel ribbons and clean, black Mary Jane shoes. Good enough to fit into a pretty gift box with wrapping paper. But you would tear it all down, before anyone could lay a finger on you.
Growing up in a place where other children were told to shun you was difficult at first. But then, you learnt to play by yourself and relish in the power of make believe. You climbed trees, rolled in the mud and ran through the forest fending off imaginary monsters. Sometimes, when you bumped into other groups of boys who threw stones and made fun of you, you fought back, further earning the title of crazy witch! Who needed these idiots anyway? You were your own best company.
One day, you sat in your disheveled, cream cotton dress, swinging your legs from a tree in your front lawn as usual. It overlooked the suburban neighborhood street, giving you a bird’s eye view of your surroundings. You noticed a family of three strolling along the sidewalk, though the couple gave you a disapproving look as they walked past, and whispered to their little, adolescent boy. They thought they were being so discreet, but you could hear every single word they were saying.
“Don’t pay attention to her. She’s bad news.”
Regardless of this remark, the boy gave in to his curiosity and as he peered up, you held his wide-eyed gaze. His irises were azure in color, glowing as it caught the early dusk light from different angles, shifting across a stunning spectrum of bluish, iridescent hues. You were captivated by them, and as you continued staring, his cheeks turned rosy red, though it seemed like he could not break away from you either. That moment was abruptly cut short, as his father smacked the back of his head, chiding his son for disobeying him.
“Come along now, Leon.” The older man wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, turning him away from your direction.
Leon. So, that was his name. As you watched them turn the corner at the end of the street and head off, you wondered if and when you’d see him again.
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Leon had heard the stories passed around about you. His parents had often commented about your family as being one of those ‘weird, hippy types’. Frankly, this didn’t scare him, but rather, it fascinated him. They made you appear like something he had read in a book about myths and legends, and he wanted to see if it was real.
The next time he went out to play in the field, he walked by your place again on purpose, even though it would have been the longer route. As he had predicted, you were up in the tree again, lounging across its branches with your eyes closed, like a slithery snake basking in the sun. Your dress was stained with grass and dirt, and your feet were soiled and filthy. Twigs poked out haphazardly from your knotted, messy hair. 
You looked like a creature of sorts, alright, he thought.
He inched towards the base of the tree trunk gingerly, trying not to stir the sleeping beast. But as he got closer, he accidentally stepped into a pile of dead leaves, which crunched underfoot. 
You roused from your slumber then, rubbing your eyes as you stretched your arms out with a lazy yawn. He flinched when you looked downwards at him, as if you might strike out, but you just smiled and said, “Hi.”
He was confused then. From the descriptions of you, he had expected you to breathe fire and gnash your teeth at him fiercely, but you were just a normal girl. He gave you a puzzled look, nodding as he greeted you with a stutter, “Hi… I-I’m, uh, Leon.”
“I know.” You grinned.
“You do?” He looked astounded, as if you’d conducted some dark ritual to find out.
You picked up on this and teased him, wiggling your fingers as you mouthed, “Magic…”
He laughed, relaxing his stiff shoulders and asking you for your name. He’d only known you until now as that girl, or one of those nicknames people gave you out of spite.
You introduced yourself and offered him a half-eaten apple you had munched on before napping on the tree. He hesitated at first, regarding it as if it were a forbidden fruit, but eventually he reached out for it. Gratefully, he bit in, savoring the flavorful burst of its juicy flesh.
“Do you go to church?” He asked suddenly, out of the blue.
Shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun with your hand, you squinted at him. “Yeah, why?”
“Oh.” He paused, considering his next words, though he blurted out with unfiltered honesty, “Well, my dad said that demons can’t enter hallowed ground.”
“I’m not a demon,” you huffed indignantly.
“No, you aren’t,” he agreed, waving his hands in the air apologetically, trying to salvage the situation. “I think you’re nice, actually.” His face was warm and pink again.
“I think you’re nice too.”
And it continued on like this. Some days, he’d pop over to visit and speak with you from below the tree, when he was sure no one was watching. Until a day came where he wasn’t as careful, and was spotted by a concerned neighbor, who ratted him out to his parents. 
You were sad that he wasn’t allowed to see you again, but you’d grown used to being alone for most of your childhood, so you tried to put it behind you and move on, unaware that he’d often look out for you at each week’s Sunday Mass.
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A number of years passed, and you filled out into your own body. You were in your senior year of an all-girls Catholic high school, and had recently turned 18. Reaching womanhood also meant that you became acutely aware of the changes in the way society treated you now, as compared to the opposite sex. Heads turned as you stalked around with one of the more unruly cliques in your school. Instead of being name-called after otherworldly creatures, you were reduced to bitch, slut, or whore. 
People hated what they couldn’t understand or control. You’d been giving the nuns a hard time by asking controversial questions about the biblical text you were meant to study and recite blindly. Detention was nothing new to you and your friends, whom you’d been caught smoking cigarettes together with on school grounds. You were a rebel at heart, and the rest of the law-abiding community wanted to crush that and make you conform.
Leon, on the other hand, had been going to the all-boys school next door, which shared a brother school relationship with yours. He was in the same year and age as you, though being a man meant he had the privilege of getting away with certain things you couldn’t. Even there, your name wasn’t safe from being circulated around the rumor mill. You were the subject of boys’ locker room talk. They associated you with the ‘bad girl’ crowd, highlighting your love for reading banned books and boasting about supposed sexual escapades with you. 
“She’ll do favors,” they said, making vulgar gestures by moving their fist back and forth in front of their mouth, while poking their tongue against their cheek.
Leon slammed his locker door shut and stormed off. It made him uncomfortable that they gossiped about you that way, but he was even more ashamed of the fact that he made no effort to stand up for you. He hardly knew you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that what they were doing was finding a scapegoat to blame. That, unfortunately, time and time again, happened to be you.
Most of the students there were sexually active anyway, but no one had complained about them. As long as one kept things on the down-low and upheld a certain moralistic façade, they were considered as ‘innocent’, ‘pure’, or ‘normal’ even. For one, he was pretty sure that his father was having an affair with the church choir mistress, but that seemed to go overlooked. 
Everyone’s such hypocrites, he pondered, frowning in distaste. Including himself. Although he liked to think that he was brave and courageous, in actuality, he was afraid of rocking the boat. Fitting in was more important, just as his parents had taught him from a young age. It was the side of him that he hated the most, but could not get rid of.
Gathering his belongings, he left school and hurried off. He’d been requested last-minute to serve at Mass that evening, as one of the other altar boys had fallen ill. At church, he exchanged his school uniform for the standard black cassock and white surplice, before starting with the Introductory Rites.
You, on the other hand, had been singled out along with a bunch of other troublesome girls to attend Evening Mass with the Mother Superior that day. It was just your luck that you had to devote an hour of your time to a set of outdated rituals and prayers, with the aim of reflecting upon your sins. The most frustrating part of this exercise was that all of you were placed in the front row pews, so there was no chance of daydreaming or dozing off in front of the priest. You’d never been much of a believer, but sometimes you did speculate if God was watching your every move from above.
As you stood up for the entrance procession, which signaled the start of Mass, a familiar mop of dirty blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes passed by. You’d recognize that anywhere, but it was a wonder how you hadn’t realized that he was serving as an altar boy all this while. Maybe your Mass timings hadn’t aligned? Or maybe you just never paid much attention in church. You’d only seen him here and there when he attended Mass with his family as part of the congregation, but you ignored him back then, because you didn’t want to remember the feeling of losing the closest thing you had to a friend in your pre-teen days.
When Leon turned around to face the congregation for the greeting, he gulped as he saw you, standing almost directly in front of him as both of you made the Sign of the Cross. Speak of the devil, he muttered internally, before chastising himself for unintentionally insulting you and shook that thought away.
You gave him a coy smile as he scampered off to where he was meant to be stationed. For the first time in a while, you took the chance to admire his chiseled features and how much he had grown. He had always been attractive, but he was no longer the little boy you used to know, and instead now a fine, young man, in an even finer religious attire. Puberty did him good, you mused.
All at once, a mischievous plan flashed across your mind as you plotted how to win his attention. It would be an entertaining way to pass the time in this mundane institution. Viewing the school uniform as yet another means for the authorities to curb people’s freedom and creative expression, you had a habit of violating the dress code by making minor adjustments to it. Whether it was shortening the hem of your skirt or wearing below the ankle socks, you went for it. And today was no exception.
You waited until it was time to be seated before attempting to catch his gaze. Within a few minutes, he sneaked a peek your way and you stifled a laugh. Bingo. As you continued looking straight at him, you stretched your legs out cautiously, so as not to alert the Mother Superior, who sat beside you, to your antics. His eyes widened and flickered, as you showed off their length, rotating your ankles in small circles languidly. The other altar boys started to take note and whispered in hushed tones amongst themselves. But you only had eyes for Leon, scrutinizing him like a hawk, as you bared your teeth with a sly grin plastered across your face.
It was only a matter of time before the Mother Superior rapped you on the legs with a thin, wooden cane she carried around for doling out such punishments. The other girls in your row giggled as you returned your legs to a respectable position, disregarding the smarting pain that had accompanied the blow. 
It was worth it, you reasoned, spotting Leon’s lopsided smile, as he turned away to hide his blush.
This soon carried on like an unspoken game between you and Leon. You’d attend Mass whenever he was serving as an altar boy, and he’d look out for you, exchanging glances like a secret code shared between the two of you. A sense of thrill arose within him each time, as to what you’d try next. If only he knew what you were capable of.
At some point, you grew bolder. During the Holy Communion, where Leon had been helping the priest to hold the patina under the chins of those who received the Sacred host, you made sure once again to make eye contact with him the whole way through. Your mouth was slightly agape, as you extended your tongue, clasping your hands together in a pious prayer position. When the priest placed the host in your mouth, you swallowed it suggestively, licking your upper lip for a finishing touch. Leon nearly stumbled over backwards as his face turned bright red like a tomato. The last thing he heard was your silvery laughter, and you returned to your seat as if nothing had happened. You had ensnared him now.
When Mass ended, you slipped him a note, asking him to meet you at the confessional when everyone else had been ushered out. You knelt in the penitent compartment, waiting for him to arrive, confident that he would show up. A few minutes later, you heard someone enter the booth where the priest usually sat.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began. Through the latticed screen, you could just about make out Leon’s face as he chuckled.
“What are you playing at?”
“You tell me,” you challenged, testing the waters. “I haven’t received any complaints.”
“Well, I have a question,” he mentioned quietly. “Do you still remember when we hung out back then? At the tree.”
There was pang in your heart, as you recalled your childhood memories. “Of course, you were the only one who bothered to speak to me.”
You pursed your lips before taking the plunge. “I really appreciated that.”
There was a momentary pause, as he took your words in. “I wish they didn’t separate us.”
“It isn’t too late to start over.” It was humiliating how eager you sounded. No matter how much you tried to repress it, you yearned to rekindle that connection you had with him once.
“Listen, I like you,” he admitted, sighing heavily. “But, I can’t go public with this. My parents-”
“Who says it has to be public?” You retorted defensively. 
His heartfelt confession emboldened you, yet a part of you felt dejected that this was the best option he could offer. However, you didn’t want to concede without giving it a shot.
He made a noise which sounded like he was in disbelief. “You mean-”
“Shall I come over and show you?” You interrupted, already getting up before he could answer.
“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “I-I’d like that, I guess.”
Exiting your compartment, you stepped out and swiftly went over to where he was, closing the door behind you. It was crammed and stuffy in this tiny box with two people, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Giving him a once-over, it struck you that he was still in his altar boy attire and perhaps what you were about to do was wrong on so many levels, but you brushed those thoughts aside.
“Um-”
Before he could speak any further, you ran your hands up along his chest and planted your lips onto his, soft and pillowy in texture. He let out a low moan, easing into your embrace as he kissed back, holding onto the back of your head for better leverage. His tongue grazed across your lips and you parted them in response, allowing it to slip inside as you tasted each other. Grabbing the collar of his cassock, you pressed your bodies together heatedly. You sucked on his tongue, eliciting another moan from his throat, as you shuffled him around, pushing his back against the wooden wall with a loud thud. Both of you had lost yourselves in a whirlwind of kisses, oblivious to the outside world and the ruckus you were making.
However, it was hard to ignore the hymn that was being sung when the next Mass started. Leon froze, before pulling away hastily. His mouth was red and swollen, and a pearly string of saliva connected it with yours.
“Shit, we lost track of time,” he panted. 
If you didn’t want to be seen, you’d need to remain where you were until the Mass ended. In other words, both of you were trapped here for at least another hour. 
Not being one to let such matters ruin the vibe, you responded, “That’s not a problem for me.” Trailing a lone finger down Leon’s body seductively, you let it come to rest above the growing bulge in his cassock.
“Are you serious?” He breathed, as you cupped your hand around it, palming him through his clothes.
“You got a better idea?” You murmured in his ear, squeezing his erection a little as you continued rubbing against it.
“Don’t get me wrong, it feels amazing.” His voice was strained as he spoke. “But, it’s just…”
“Catholic guilt?” You teased.
“Yeah, probably.” He nodded sheepishly.
“Well, maybe if we get you out of this thing.” You gestured to his attire. “You might relax into it more.”
“Makes sense,” he agreed, tugging the surplice over his head and discarding it to the ground. “Though it never really goes away, does it?”
You shrugged, shaking your head. “I still get it, but it’s less of an issue now.” It made you follow up with a question of your own. “Does that mean I’m a bad person?”
His eyes crinkled as he grinned. “You're doing it again.”
“Hm?”
“Guilt,” he indicated. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway.” You tried to deflect the topic, knowing the rumors that people spread about you. Leon had probably heard it all. “At least there’s still hope for you.”
“Thanks?”
“Don’t thank me yet.” You winked, removing the sash from his cassock as he unbuttoned the rest of it, revealing a plain white shirt and a pair of shorts underneath.
He snickered as you clucked your tongue at the sight. “What did you expect me to do? Go Commando?”
“Would’ve been hot,” you pointed out.
Leon had always been perceptive. From your interactions, he began to suspect that sometimes you relied on lighthearted banter as a way to mask your nervousness and other underlying emotions.
Nestling his fingers under your chin, he turned you towards him. “You sure about this?”
“Mm hm.” It was sweet of him to check in. Most guys never offered you the same courtesy. “Been thinking about it since Communion,” you added brazenly.
He snorted as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. Working your way down, you kissed his clothed body, pulling the waistband of his underwear and shorts to his ankles. Kneeling before him, you reached for his cock, smearing beads of his precum carelessly along his velvety skin, while you pumped his hot shaft slowly.
He inhaled sharply, snapping his eyes shut, as he tilted his head back in pleasure. In the background, you could hear the priest’s sermon droning on.
With a smug smile, you warned, “Do me a favor and try to keep it down, will you?”
Before he had a chance to react, you filled your mouth with his cock, sliding all the way down its hardened length.
“Jesus,” he groaned.
Instantly, you released it with a pop and tutted in mock disappointment, “Taking the Lord’s name in vain?”
“We’re so going to hell for this,” he laughed faintly, tangling his hands in your hair.
“Ah-” He gasped again, as you held onto the base of his cock, lifting it to flatten your tongue on its underside. Slathering it with saliva, you took his balls into your wet mouth, one at a time, sucking on them delectably. “Fuck!”
“Don’t you ever shut up?” You joked.
“Not if you keep doing what you’re doing, angel.”
Angel. That was a new one. You’d never been called that before, but you liked the sound of it.
Wrapping your lips around his cock, you started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Each time you came up, you flicked your tongue at the tip, licking it as you stared up at him. His eyes flew open, gazing at you with lust and arousal while you sucked him off more vigorously.
Sliding his cock in deeper, you allowed it to hit the back of your throat, causing you to make a guttural noise. Clenching his fist, he bit down hard on his knuckles to stop himself from crying out. If this was hell, he’d stay right here with you. He couldn’t think straight anymore, as he bucked his hips forward in response.
Grabbing his ass, your fingernails left crescent shaped indents on his skin, as you let him fuck your mouth to chase his high. Tears lined your eyelashes and sweat poured down your brow. It had gotten incredibly hot and humid in this enclosed space. But his muted moans only served to turn you on even more. You wondered how perverse and trashy you looked in this position, though Leon could only mumble the opposite in his feverish state.
Soon, he tensed and quivered while hissing through gritted teeth, “God, I’m gonna cum.”
Lady Luck appeared to be on your side, as the congregation were in the middle of singing another hymn, which inadvertently muffled whatever sounds were coming from the confessional. He struggled to hold in his groans as you felt a thick, salty load of his cum wash up against your throat. You choked a bit before swallowing it whole.
Collapsing backwards, you leaned against the cool surface of the seat behind you, wiping the edges of your mouth. Tucking his spent dick back under his clothes, he sank down beside you, kissing you gently and tasting himself on your lips. 
“You ok?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek.
You nodded silently and smiled, contemplating if there would be a future to what you had with him now.
“I ruined you,” he jested, showering you with kisses along your jawline.
“As if.” You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was the truth.
And, just like he had read your mind, he uttered the magic words, “So, when will I see you again?”
━━━━━━━━━━━
Since the encounter at the confessional, you continued your clandestine meetings with Leon, just like back in the old days, except both of you were now wiser in covering your tracks. In public, you pretended not to know each other, yet shared furtive, longing glances when you were in the same vicinity. Sometimes, he would make an excuse to brush past you, his touch ghosting across the curve of your spine, your shoulders, the back of your hand to the tip of your pinkie finger. Away from prying eyes, you hooked up passionately, damning each other further to hell. How many levels were there again? You’d lost count.
You enjoyed the moments spent with him. The aftercare and cuddling. The long talks into the night. You understood each other somehow, it wasn’t like this with other people. So, if the Day of Judgment arrived, why would God not sympathize with you both?
Despite that, neither of you had put a label on where you stood with each other. How did this secret relationship work? If you were found out, would he ditch you like before? Would you be thrown under the bus, so that he could be purified again? It wasn’t long until insecurity reared its ugly head, gnawing at you from within.
Leon sensed something was off as you lay in his arms, naked while he spooned you in the back seat of his car, parked along a desolate dirt path near the forest. You had that pensive look on your face, like you were in a world of your own, one where he couldn’t enter.
Pulling you close to him, he kissed the top of your shoulder, coaxing you out of your reverie. “Wanna talk about it?”
You hummed noncommittally. After a long pause, you asked, “Are you embarrassed by me?”
He was caught off-guard by the question and his breathing stilled. “No,” he argued. “Why would you think that?”
“I’m just tired of hiding,” you sighed. “It’s like I’m making you do something bad.”
There was a brief ache in his chest, as guilt swelled up like a wave. Coward, an inner voice spat.
Carding his fingers through your hair, he pressed his lips against the temple of your head. “You make me feel like the best version of myself.”
“Hm.” You pinched your lips together, wanting to believe him, but you weren’t convinced.
He observed this, but decided not to press the issue any further, knowing that you needed action, not words.
She’ll be your downfall. A surly voice piped up within him, like fire and brimstone. He shook it off, ignoring the moral tug-of-war that had occurred once he made that statement, as he vowed to prove himself to you in the coming days.
━━━━━━━━━━━
The next time you’d agreed to meet was in church, after the very last Mass of the day. He was serving as an altar boy again, and you were intrigued as to whether he had planned to reenact the entire confessional scene or switch it up with something new, like making you go through the Stations of the Cross while fucking you. You giggled at the idea, only to be shushed by a fellow parishioner, whom you had disturbed in meditative prayer.
When Mass ended and everyone except yourself had left the nave, you waited patiently for him in the pews. After a while, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to face Leon, who had changed into his casual clothes. As you got to your feet, he cupped the sides of your face in his hands, closing the distance, and bringing your lips to meet his in a fervent kiss. You were slightly taken aback by his initiation, since he was usually the shyer one out of the two of you.
Claiming your hand in his, he led you to the front, where the altar stood before the austere crucifix that hung from the wall. He smirked, noticing the look of shock and incredulity on your face, as it gradually began to dawn on you what he had in mind. However, he was anxious too, you could tell from the way his hand was trembling. He was sealing his fate, and you were both going down together. Nothing could bring you back after this ultimate act of blasphemy.
At the foot of the altar, he caressed his lips against yours. “I guess God is our witness now.”
Leaning in, you found yourselves consumed in a lip lock, which deepened with each passing second as you helped each other out of your clothes, kicking them off unceremoniously to the side. He spun you around, bending you forward against the smooth, marble top of the altar. The cold surface caused your nipples to harden and goosebumps to form on your skin. You shivered as he spread your legs wider apart and knelt down, holding your thighs as he licked a firm stripe along your silken folds. 
As he continued to lap at the sensitive flesh, he brought a hand towards your clit, stroking it softly with his middle finger. You jerked from the sensation, whimpering as he alternated between thrusting his tongue into your heat and suckling it with his lips. There was a slight pressure as you felt one of his fingers sliding into your pussy, already soaked with arousal. At the same time, his tongue trailed up towards your rim, teasing it with long, flat licks.
“Oh my god!” You gasped, gripping the edge of the altar, as an electrifying tingle coursed through your veins.
There was a playful smack on your ass. “Forgotten the Third Commandment already?” Leon scolded.
“Huh?”
“Taking the Lord’s name in vain,” he mimicked your tone from when you had teased him at the confessional.
“Ugh,” you whined. “I’m sure this is the least of our concerns.”
You felt his hot breath against your asshole before he dipped his tongue in lightly. Simultaneously, he pumped your pussy, pushing in another finger and stretching you out, before his tongue went back to circling around your rim, inciting a string of moans from your mouth.
“Feeling good?”
“Mm, yes,” you replied hoarsely. “But when are you going to fuck me?”
He coughed out a laugh at your bluntness, before imparting a piece of unsolicited advice. “Patience is a virtue.”
You groaned at his quip. “Really, Leon? Are you-”
He interrupted rudely, pressing his hand on your back as he entered you, burying his cock deep into your cunt. You nearly screamed in ecstasy as he pounded his hips against your ass repeatedly, already setting a brutal pace from the beginning. Maybe you should’ve been careful of what you wished for.
“What was that again?” He taunted.
You growled, clenching your jaw as you felt his dick dragging against your sensitive walls. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed across the space. Your mind fogged up in an insatiable haze as you pushed back rhythmically against his thrusting, allowing him to penetrate you further, and taking pleasure in how his head brushed against your cervix with each stroke.
“So close,” you rasped, your core tightening as if it was about to burst.
At this, he pulled away briefly, flipping you over as he lifted you onto the altar top. He had a bruising grip around your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist instinctively, interlocking your ankles behind his back to draw him closer. Bewitched, he took a moment to drink in the divine sight of your flushed, moist body, supple and wanting in his arms, before kissing you sloppily on the mouth. Pressing his forehead against yours, he asserted, “You don’t know what you do to me, angel.”
With that, he rutted into you relentlessly, your breasts bouncing as you clung to the back of his neck, crying out in rapture. When you finally snapped, a glimmer from the gold cross necklace he wore daily flashed before your eyes. You looped your index finger around it, tugging at it as you peered up at the bleeding face of Christ looking down at you ominously from the crucifix. The last remains of the day’s light filtered through the stained glass behind him, casting a kaleidoscope of mottled colors across your bodies, the altar and the stone floor, like a disease.
You realized you had tempted Leon beyond salvation. But in spite of it, he had followed you willingly. This was the proof he had wanted to show you. You were the angel he would desecrate everything for. He’d cut your wings off so you’d be his and stay.
His cock throbbed with desire as he rode you through your orgasm. As he neared the edge, he pulled out, finishing himself off. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he murmured a mixture of curses and professions against your skin, while spurting hot white cum over the mound of your pussy. Holding onto the marbled structure for support, he bent over you, placing tender kisses on your eyes and your lips.
It seemed as if he had turned his back on God and worshiped you now. But instead of a guilty conscience, you felt nothing but love. Silently, both of you cleaned up and got dressed. He delicately reattached the butterfly clip that had come loose in your hair, while you wiped away the lipstick that had smudged onto his face. There would be no signs of what had transpired, except he had another surprise lined up for you. 
Upon exiting the church doors, Leon took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, as you walked out onto the street together. You were his - he’d show you off to the whole damn world without shame.
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