Love is creepy, and poisonous. Wanting to hold them tightly while being disgusted by other people touching me. As someone who isn't affected by people's tears or pain, worrying over the smallest change in their mood. Even when people talk to me, Ah.. I don't really listen. My mind is always on them.
Why would I need another when I have you? You consume my thoughts, Actions and everything. I wanna be the one you think of and call yours. There's no other like you.🌸
I'm disgusted by people who think love is just about making love or flirting.. Ah, it's not something that simple. It's something intense enough to overwhelm your mind. I'm even disgusted by people who flirt with everyone. Ah, I'm sure I'd feel tainted if they touched me.
After-work activities: Sitting on his face while he's still fully dressed in his work shirt and tie, panties pushed aside and using his mouth until I'm satisfied. Bonus points when he breathlessly says "thank you, ma'am" after I finally let him up.
Believe me when I say that I want you to ruin me , to beat and strangle and scar me . Tie me up and use me as a punching bag , break my bones , do whatever you want to me . I am yours to destroy , to own , to control , to abuse .
cw/notes: mdni/nsfw, this one is just suggestive, talk of sex, language, religion, they're literally in a confessional so, sacrilegious acts/talk, butchered script of a confessional oops, concept of sin/what's "good and evil" through the lens of religion, this fic is pushing my limits as a writer and I'm kind of here for it, written in karim's pov
-> opening hymn. . .angel of small death
"Látom."
Said in unison, but he swallowed hard upon hearing the voice on the opposite side of the curtain.
“Bless me, for I have sinned. . ."
That voice, fuck, he knew that voice.
Sinful and razor sharp, making his breath hitch in his throat from a mere sentence. A voice that brought wicked thoughts and depraved actions into their confessions; everything rotten and debauched within every thread of reconciliation. A familiarity within the cadence and tone, he felt his heart sink right down to his stomach. A feeling that festered, long since over due to bubbling over, that he pushed down even harder; shoving down any prior thought he had with a force that could kill - to maim.
“It's been a month since my last confession. These are my sins. . .”
Everything about this was wrong.
He had an ever growing feeling that the woman on the other side of the curtain knew that. Divulging lustful coated sins within a saccharine breath, erotic details that had no such business within a holy place. Acutely aware of the smirk that hung on her lips with every sin confessed - he heard it. He could feel it. Hitting him right in the stomach and bringing him crashing down with every syllable that left her upturned lips. Every righteous thought hammered into the very fiber of his soul screamed at him that this was wrong; this was evil.
". . .I seem to have an issue with lust of the flesh. . ."
He should stop this.
He grabbed at the thick black fabric of his pants, just above the knee, in hopes to center himself and pull himself back. To not let his thoughts wander again - to not sin again. But he listened all too attentively, hanging on every single word, every so called confession, that left her lips.
He didn't want to stop this.
". . .you're the same priest as last time, aren't you?"
Interrupting her own confession, interrupting every thought he had of remaining calm and collected. Interrupting the bashing of memorized scriptures in his mind, as he repeated them over and over and over as she spoke.
"Yes." A nearly breathless reply. Furthering him to clasp the black fabric tighter, white knuckling the seams with sweat slicked hands, and clench his jaw.
He heard a hum.
"Good."
He wanted to wretch, the amusement in a single word made him nauseous. He didn't know a word to have such a dreadful effect; an effect that made him grit his teeth from the desire filled tone that swallowed the word whole. Screwing his eyes shut as to not further himself astray. Sin filled thoughts already creeping into his mind that he took with an iron grip and forced to the deepest parts of his mind; he prayed they would never surface again.
He was a righteous man, a holy man, one of which shouldn't dare entertain even the mere idea of such wicked actions. But the moral sin of desire was a treacherous one to fall to; falling to his knees in attrition - such false repentance - as the stain of lust was his only folly.
"Now make a good act of contrition." Uttered through gritted teeth and closed eyes, following a script within the caverns of his mind. He heard another hum and felt his resolve start to crumble at his feet.
"I firmly intend, with Sol's help, to do penance, to sin no more,
and to avoid whatever leads me to sin."
No you won't, is what he wished to say. He instead took a deep breath and held it, pausing a moment as he wracked his brain of another prayer. The only salvation in the moment being she would leave soon, to leave him a mess of a man - but righteous nonetheless.
"Aren't you going to pray for me? Tell me my sins are forgiven?"
Dammit.
"I absolve you from your sins," spoken in a single breath. Forced through his teeth, knowing forgiveness meant nothing to the woman beyond the curtain - she didn't care. "Látom." Cleansing heinous actions, disgraceful words, and his own mind within a single word.
"Látom."
"Go in peace."
"I have every intention to. Thanks be to Sol."
He felt his breath return to him once he heard her leave; nearly out of breath as he filled his lungs with air. Putting his head in his hands and letting put a groan.
i don't have to beat you, cut you, bruise you, or hurt you in any way. you can scream, yell, punch and push me all you want. i have already wormed my way into your brain. i don't have to get my hands dirty when your mind is so malleable for me, darling. just come home to me.
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