You Know Whats Really Fun And In Style Right Now? Being Kind And Making Others Feel Loved And Valued

you know what’s really fun and in style right now? being kind and making others feel loved and valued

♱ 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐝, 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 ♱

pt.01

IN WHICH…A virgin meets the new priest of her church, father Matt, and her world of all things holy begins to crumble.

WARNINGS… NSFW AHEAD! Religious figures, god is mentioned, Demons, slapping, sex, masturbation, parents being rough with their kids, mind fucking, orgasms, innocent!reader, slight asshole!matt. IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!

APOLOGIZING NOW TO ANYONE WHO IS SUPER RELIGIOUS! THIS IS NOT MEANT TO DISRESPECT ANYONE, I JUST GOT THE IDEA FROM OTHER SMUTS I'VE READ, THE SONG BY PATD!, AND THE MOVIE MOTHER!

Matt has slowly but surely made a name for himself within the clergy and the church attendees.

He had a way with words that seemed to captivate any and everyone he was speaking to, whether it was male or female. His words gave hope, they soothed you, they made you want more, crave it. It wasn't long before the odds worked in his favor and Father Jon gave him a permanent place in the church, letting him jump from being a deacon to a priest. Some of the clergy members had a problem with it, claiming it was unfair for him to jump to such a high rank in a short period of time.

"Proverbs 14:30...A peaceful mind gives life to the body, but jealousy rots the bones."

The way Matt had stated the scripture sounded much more like a threat rather than a piece of advice. His eyes were dark, his posture firm, and a malevolent smirk plastered on his face.

It was that day the clergy knew they shouldn't speak down upon him, he radiated power, a power no one wanted to defy.

He would usually stand side by side with Father Jon, helping preach to the attendees of the church. Other times he was in charge of the confessional, listening to the people confess their sins.

Father Jon quickly became impressed with his knowledge of the righteous path and integrity, So impressed that he offered a teaching position to him.

Matt took the position by thanking Father Jon with a firm handshake, grateful for the opportunity to teach the young minds of the right way to live.

For the next few months, he taught the senior class. He wasn't strict when teaching, he was laid back for the most part, but he made it a point that he wouldn't tolerate disrespect toward him or Christ. Instead of tests, he opted for long lectures and presentations. His way of teaching made the students love him, they participated in class willingly and showed him the utmost respect. The girls in the senior class were ecstatic about having Father Matt as their teacher, swooning and whispering about him at any given moment.

They fell victim to his charm.

They would call him cute, bring him slices of pies and cake they made themselves, they even talked about marrying him one day and raising their children in the church.

The only one who wasn't following suit in the schoolgirl crush was Y/n.

Now don't get her wrong, she could admit he was attractive, but he was too attractive.

There was something off about him that she couldn't place her finger on.

She would hear whispering whenever she was too close to him, the voices sounding hushed and scratchy. She would see glimpses of shadow people in her peripheral. Most of the time they were standing in the corners, looming over students, or simply sitting at Father Matt's side.

And worst of all...she began to have impure thoughts.

Images of them kissing under the tree in the park would pop into her head, vivid glimpses of his hand trailing along her shoulder only to drop down to her breast...She would see brief glimpses of them rolling around in bed, naked.

It scared her and intrigued her all at the same time. She had never had an impure thought like this before, and she blamed him....But she also wanted to expand on these thoughts.

She knew it was wrong, if God even looked inside her mind she would be stricken down and laid to rest.

"Just like that Angel, so good f'me." He groaned in her ear as she took all of him, inch by inch. Y/n whimpered at the burning but pleasurable ministration that was happening between her thighs, craving more, feining for it.

He thrust into her harshly, her back arching as a strangled cry left her throat. He kept going, feeding off of her cries and pleas, gripping her sides harshly and leaving indentations into the soft supple skin

She felt something forming in the pit of her stomach, the pressure so large she felt like she was going to scream and pass out all at once.

"Let go Angel, let go for your god" He whispered in her ear, a wicked grin across his face. Her eyes clenched shut as she let out a loud and strangled moan.

"Y/N!"

She's snapped back to reality, blinking profusely as she tries to figure out what's going on. She looks around and notices all of her classmates staring at her, some snickering, others with judgment.

She feels the brown flesh on her face heat up in embarrassment, her eyes finally landing on Matt whose already fixed on her.

He's staring at her as if he knows what she was imagining.

"I-I'm sorry, what was the question?" She asks nervously. Matt crosses his arms and licks over his teeth, his eyes narrowing. "You should be paying attention in class Y/n. Spending your time daydreaming instead of learning about your God is disrespectful, and what do I not tolerate?"

She can't help but shrink in on herself from his harsh words, her gaze now cast downward, " d-disrespect towards you o-or God..." Her voice is meek, a clear indication of fright from being reprimanded.

He hums and stares at her for a few seconds before continuing with his lecture.

The day soon ends, the girl quickly making her way through the church to go home. However, she's stopped by Father Jon himself.

"Y/n."

"A-afternoon Father." He smiles at her polite words, but soon turns serious. "Father Matt told me about your little situation today in class. You're never distracted, is everything alright?"

She glances at him nervously before looking down at her shoes. Father Jon can see something is tearing the girl apart, he's known her since she was born and knows this is out of character for her.

"Do you need to confess?"

A barely seeable nod is given, her eyes still cast downward.

"Why don't you go confess? Maybe that will ease your mind and get you back on track."

That seems like a good idea to the girl. If she confesses her impure thoughts and asks for Gods forgiveness, maybe they will stop.

Father Jon sends her to the booth, letting her know someone will be in shortly for her to talk to. She sits on the cherry wood bench of the small box, waiting patiently and anxiously for someone to sit on the other side.

She stops the fiddling of her hands when she hears the door on the other side open and close, a loud thud being heard. She flinches at the sound and listens to the harsh ragged breathing on the other side.

"H-Hello?"

"Confess..."

The voice is one she's never heard before. They sound sick, as if there's a bunch of mucus in their throat.

"U-umm...I-I'm not sure where to sta-Free yourself of the shackles." The words spoken sound like they are being spoken through a sea of static. It's unnerving, but she blames it on her being nervous already.

"I... I have thoughts... sinful thoughts."

She's met with silence so she continues.

"They-They're thoughts of me...with a man...A man of the church... h-he's touching me and I enjoy it. T-they've been happening for a while now, every second of the day....They're worse when I'm around him. It's causing me to be distracted from Christ and I feel dirty, I don't like it. It's wrong and I- It's not wrong"

Her words get caught in her throat and her brows furrow.

"W-what?"

"Your thoughts, they feel good correct? Whenever you imagine him touching you in your most delicate...sensitive areas...it feels nice. You wish your own hands could give you the pleasure. Your skin feels like it's on fire, your breathing speeding up. Your thighs clench together, and you begin to pulsate, an aching feeling in between your legs. Your core aches, wishing that everything you're imagining is real-" As the voice begins to spew the erotic words, the images begin to flash through her mind, knocking the air out of her lungs.

She can feel them.

Her thighs clench together tightly, one hand gripping the bench while the other claws at the wall of the confessional to steady herself. Her skin feels hot, her clothes suffocating her. She feels the sweat forming on her forehead, dripping down the side of her face.

Unintentionally she begins rocking her hips, grinding down on the bench. The combination of her clenched thighs and rocking caused a knot to form in her abdomen, her movements getting faster. Faint whimpers fall from her mouth as she clenches her eyes shut, chasing whatever it is shes running after.

"That's it Angel."

The voice, Matt's voice, sounds so real, almost as if he's whispering in her ear instead of in her head.

"You feel it, that hot burning ball in your stomach? Let go, let it take control."

The back of her head hits the wall of the confessional harshly, her eyes rolling back as her thighs shake. She feels a liquid roll down the inner part of her leg and dripping on the floor.

Her once tense body relaxes, her mind in a state of delirium as she takes deep breaths.

Her eyes snap open when she hears the door of the confessional slam. She comes to her senses and quickly scrambles out of the booth. Her head turns both ways, analyzing the empty hallway. Once she figures no one was a witness to whatever happened a few seconds ago, she speed walks away from the booth.

On her way home, she kept replaying her moment in the booth. The words that were spoken, the euphoric feeling she experienced...

She loved it.

She wanted more.

She soon makes it home, immediately being met with her parents in the kitchen.

"Y/n, you're home late." Her father gruffs out. "Father Jon wanted to speak to me after class." She lies swiftly, not even thinking twice like she usually would about it.

"About what?" Her mother raises a brow, questioning her response.

"Me joining the choir."

Her parents become elated, glad their daughter might finally have a place in the church. They usher her out of the kitchen, telling her to go shower and get ready for dinner. She does as told, taking the time to lather her body in vanilla-scented suds.

she dries herself off and pulls on her satin nightgown, putting on her slippers and making her way to the kitchen by skipping.

She feels awake, she feels alive, she feels happy.

The family of three eats their dinner, mainly in silence. The only noise heard being the scraping of utensils against the porcelain plates.

As she eats dinner, her mind drifts back to the confessional booth, that aching feeling between her thighs returning.

She discreetly clenches her thighs, adjusting the way she was sitting. Her parents noticed but chose not to say anything, figuring the chair was just uncomfortable. Dinner is soon finished, Y/n helping her mother wash the dishes.

"Did you want ice cream for dessert? I picked up the vanilla one you like." A loud clap of thunder is heard as Y/n turns to her mother.

"No, I'm going to go to bed."

Her parents were shocked by her turning down the dessert. She loved vanilla ice cream, for her to turn it down was unusual. They watch as she retreats up the stairs.

The girl waltzes into her room, closing the door softly, and falling into her bed. Her body melts into the twin-sized mattress, some of her stuffed animals falling to the floor. She relaxes as she hears the pitter-patter of rain falling onto the roof, falling into a calm trance as she closes her eyes.

Her relaxation is quickly interrupted by the ache between her thighs returning. It causes her to become restless, her body twisting and turning.

She clenches her thighs hoping to soothe the ache, but she's unsuccessful. She huffs and sits up, sliding to the edge of her bed. She tries to recreate her actions in the booth, her bed squeaking as she moves back and forth.

But once again, she was unsuccessful.

She grunts and crawls back to the top of the bed, falling back into her pillow. As she does so, her nightgown slides up, showing her white panties.

She looks down and bites her lips, contemplating. She recalls a story from one of the girls at school whose older sister was caught using her hand to do what's called "masturbation". She claimed her sister did it every night until her parents found out.

Of course, the girl was sent away by her parents, but Y/n wasn't thinking about that. The only thing on her mind was satisfying the throbbing between her legs.

Her right hand shakes as she moves it toward to cotton material, hesitant to do what she believes is wrong

But It's not wrong... Right?

The clergy member who listened to her confession told her it wasn't wrong.

leading with that, she dives in.

She slides her hand under the band of her panties, flinching at the foreign feeling but continuing. She props her legs up, planting the soles of her feet flat on her mattress.

She slides a single finger through her folds, gasping at the new and exciting touch. She feels a thick wet mixture on her fingers, moving it around. As she does so, she touches a certain part of herself that makes her gasp softly, her back arching as another flash of lightning hits. Deciding that she likes the feeling, she circles that spot, her index finger drawing lazy shapes.

Her body twitches, her toes curling as her eyes roll back.

This was an all-new feeling that she quickly became accustomed to. She doesn't understand why masturbation is such a taboo,

It was euphoric.

As she draws lazy patterns, gasping and whimpering softly, her closet door creaks open...But she doesn't stop. In the back of her mind, she thought it was whatever shadow she's been seeing the last few months coming to get her.

But it wasn't the shadow...

It was Father Matt.

It seems as if the whole house shakes with the booming thunder, lightning striking once more as he moves closer to her.

Her jaw drops as a shock goes through her body, her eyes fixated on Matt.

"You look perfect Angel....Masturbating right under the lord's eye." His eyes fall on the cross right above the head of her bed.

The erotic words make her back arch.

She feels that hot coil in her abdomen again, her finger moving faster to reach that high from before.

"Oh God, Matt!"

Matt smirks at her, his hand coming down to grip her jaw, "You're so close Angel...and yet, you're not going to finish."

Before she could question his confusing words, her door was slammed open.

Her head turns and her eyes land on the baffled and enraged faces of her parents. She snatches her hand from her underwear, her eyes wide in fright. She yanks her nightgown down as she sits up, her heart thumping in her chest as her father marches toward her.

"Daddy wait I ca-" Her face whips to the side, her body falling to the floor.

"How dare you! You're a Sinner, a Jezebel!"

His voice echoes throughout the home, mixing with the sound of booming thunder. Tears form in her eyes as she looks up at him, "I-I'm not a Sinner! I'm not a Jezebel! What I did was ok, I felt good! It's not a sin!" Her parents stare at her with wide eyes, their ears ringing as they hear her words.

"S-she's possessed... She needs to be cleansed." Her mother murmured, her face pale and looking sick. Y/n turns to her mother in fright, "W-what? No no! I'm not possessed! I swear to God-You lie under God's name!" Her father shouts once more. He grabs her by her arm, yanking her to her feet and yelling in her face.

"I always knew you were a hellion, getting into trouble by claiming you would see shadows, and had an imaginary friend named Matthew!"

He scoffs in disgust, barely able to look at her.

"You're a liar, a sinner, an awful excuse of a daughter." He begins to pull her out of the bedroom, ignoring her cries and pleas to stop. He drags her down the stairs, not caring about the way she misses a few steps and falls.

He yanks her back up and pulls her out of the home, the harsh falling rain drenching their bodies.

"Daddy stop! Please! I'm sorry! I'll do better! I'll pra-PRAYING WON'T SAVE YOU NOW!" Just as his words fly out, lightning strikes a nearby tree, the branches falling into the street immediately.

"We need to get to the church!"

While soaking wet from the rain, her father shoves her into the backseat of the car. The two adults climb into the front of the car and fly out of the driveway, heading straight to the church.

Y/n sits in the backseat sobbing. She doesn't know what she did wrong, she was told it was ok.

"Please! I-it was an accident! It won't happen again!" she pleads hopelessly. "You're damn right it won't!" Her father shouts as he quickly parks the car.

He tries to pull her out of the car but she fights back, kicking and screaming at him to get away from her. In a fit of rage, he grabs a handful of wet curls, yanking her out of the car.

She yells in pain, her knees dragging against the wet and rough pavement.

The clergy was currently having a meeting, the main fathers' gathered around the podium, talking about Sunday service. They were in the middle of choosing what scriptures to read when suddenly the doors burst open, the family of three tumbling in.

"Oh my, what's going on here?" Father Marcus asks as everyone looks at the crying girl in her father's arms.

Y/n's father drags her towards the priests, "Forgive us for intruding, but we need your help! Y/n she's-she's possessed!"

The fathers gasp at their words.

"Possessed? What do you mean possessed?" Father Jon asks as he stares at the crying girl. " Tell them what you did!" her father sneers. She shakes her head, too embarrassed and frightened to even speak.

he throws her down to the floor, yelling at her to confess her sins.

"He told me it was ok! H-he told me sex and touching myself was ok!" she sobs once more.

The fathers gape in shock, this was new for her. She was usually so bright and innocent, always following the right path, but they have noticed a difference as of late.

"I have noticed a difference, she's not as bright as she used to be...Always looking off into corners as if she sees things." Father Garrison speaks lowly. "Please, help us! Do what you did before, she needs he-Dousing her in holy water won't help."

Everyone turns to Father Matt as he speaks, "What do you mean Matthew?"

"I mean that she needs more than just holy water."

The other fathers look at each other, then back at the new member.

"Then what do you suggest?"

Matt's eyes fall on the mess of a girl on the ground, staring down at her with hungry eyes as she looks up at him with tears.

"An Exorcism"

PT 2!!!! WHAT WE THINKING YALL?!?!?! SEND IN STUFF TO MY INBOX WITH YOUR THOUGHTS OR EVEN JUST COMMENT!!

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🍑: @mattslolita @thenickgirl @guccifrog @luverboychris @zayyluvz @mrsmiagreer @chrisssluttywaist @78yaz @hoesformatt @freshloveforthefit @3lizaluvs @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @jetaimevous @luxy-nyx @ts-is-my-spirt-animal @iihrtsturniol0 @idontexistman @katw4shereee @madisturn @starlace111 @zivall @adoreindie @imwetforyourmom @sturnsxplr-25 @sturncakez @theyluvme-2315 @moonk1ss3d @@babyalliah-777 @sturniololol @oliviasturniolo21 @ariithereyet @blahbel668

i have an unpopular opinion but i’m scared to share it bc i know ppl r gonna get mad at me

Please Reblog is Your Blog is Safe for Non-Binary People.

If my mutuals can’t rb this then we can’t be mutuals

Angst fics can help people come to terms with their own grief, begin healing, or give people that good cry that they need.

Smut fics can help people affirm and accept their sexuality. It can help them explore their sexuality in a safe way. They can also just be fun, and having fun is a drastically undervalued way to improve your mental health.

Dark fics can help people face their fears or process their trauma. It can make them feel safer and more secure. It can help them find their courage.

Fluff fics can give people rest and respite and comfort. It can give them hope that soft places exist and that maybe there is one out there for them. It can bring up their mood, which, if they have depression, can be a life saver.

And every fic people write makes someone feel less alone.

Point being, just because a particular thing doesn’t serve you, doesn’t mean it lacks value.

This is not to say that we have to consume all fic uncritically. Of course not. It is just to say that entire “genres” aren’t trash or lacking value just because they don’t serve you.

cockwarming eddie while he rolls a joint

summary: literally what the title says

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, dom/sub dynamics, cockwarming, unprotected sex, p in v, degrading, slight dacryphilia, drug use, eddie himself should be a warning

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you try to remember how you ended up in this situation but your mind was too fogged up to recall. one thing was for sure though, you didn’t wake up that morning and think you’d be sitting on the town freak’s cock as he rolled a joint for you to share with him.

frankly you weren’t surprised, given you were hopelessly devoted to him and anything he did or said. yet as you walked into his trailer at 5:07pm that afternoon it took you little time to realize how the evening would unfold. wondering where wayne was since his shift was nowhere near, you followed the mop of hair into his room as he explained that his uncle was running a few errands before going to the plant.

so what could two promising young adults have in mind to combat the boredom of a crisp late summer night? get high.

that could only be, in your dazed mind, the mere reason for your current situation. as you tried to remain as poised as possible while you were being forced to stare at his hands. getting more agitated as the seconds passed, the pressure on your lower stomach was making you impatient. “stop that” you heard him say extremely close to your ear, but that proximity allowed you to also catch the slight hitch in his throat, consequence of your testy fidgeting.

“eddieeee” you dragged his name in hopes that it would get you what you wanted, but you weren’t even sure what is was that you craved at the moment. for him to forget the fucking blunt in his hands that apparently took all his attention? or for him to fuck you in that same position and then continue rolling the joint, making you feel like the whore you needed to be for him? or perhaps for that same roll of paper that was seemingly your enemy at the moment to be at your lips as you inhale all it’s contents, given you can feel the effect of the previously smoked blunts subside?

“if you move your hips one more time i swear i’m pulling out and not fucking you for a week, you understand that?” all you could do was whimper and cuss at him, aggravated by the growing need that you could feel in every vein and artery. “wasn’t this what you wanted? to be treated like a whore? nothing more than a cum dump? why are you complaining now, hm?”

tears welled up in your eyes, yet it wasn’t because of his words. he knew what he was doing and it was working. eddie loved to rile you up so much that you’d end up taking control, and the jezebel in you would come out. he knew the potential you had and loved to exploit it. yet it could be one of those days where you’re so needy and in such a submissive head space, that you’d go brain dead and not function until he pumps you full of his cum. and that seemed to be the direction in which this night was heading.

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