While my vpn is working, have my notes and draft of the confession booth trap fic which i did way too much research for:
Claudio in the booth start off strong with I'm having impure thoughts about a member of the clergy, list off dirty acts he fantasizes, then gradually getting more specific, pulling dark curls and holding cleft chin still so he can come on the priest's face and the glasses hiding his green eyes—then vittorio knows it's him
Vittorio bit back a weary sigh.
when Toni and Fabi—no. He was in the confession booth. Vittorio was not going to think about all three of them in bed; about the glint in Toni's eyes when he said it was almost Lent, and they should have one last tumble before Vittorio had to give up sex; or the goading rasp of Fabi's callused fingers against Vittorio's inner thigh.
And now he was swearing in church. What a horrible priest he was.
In for a penny, in for a pound. Vittorio took out the flask.
I have come, Father, to confess my sinful.
Here we go again. Vittorio reminded himself it was his duty to guide lost souls, and he was going to do the job he was not paid for.
No matter that it was always the same thing. The confessor coveted his neighbor's wife, or his brother's, or on one very eventful occasion, her new stepmother; not the done thing, et cetera, three to five hail marys and a donation of money or time.
Sinful thoughts about a member of the Church.
If Vittorio had been holding the flask he was not supposed to have, especially in the confession booth, it would have clattered to the floor.
This—ah— Vittorio cleared his throat. This is highly irregular.
Would you like to know who it is, Father?
He was not going to ask which member of the clergy. He would like to look the half dozen nuns in the eye thank you very much.
He torments me every day.
He ? Surely not. There were only three priests in the parish.
You torment yourself, child. The priest does nothing. Vittorio sounded too sharp. Bad memories of being called in and told he was distracting church-goers . It wasn't his fault people paid to his face than his homilies.
Claudio holding a gun and making Vittorio open the screen thing, and looming, etc. The effect of which was ruined by the sweat beading on his upper lip. Vittorio wanted to laugh hysterically at the situation he was in.
all this then tied with the sweaty upper lip oh mwuah mwuah MWUAH
stalker claudio let's fckin gooo brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
also def tremendously endeared for vignette with toni and fabi 💕
