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#I expected to enjoy this but didn't expect it to be as good as it is
thaatdigitaldiary · 3 days
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for the first time
hopkins paige bueckers x hopkins fem reader
for a long time, paige didn’t know why she felt the way she did about her best friend, someone who she “wasn’t” supposed to love, she didn’t want to ruin things. it was unfortunate she didn’t know you were waiting for her first. (kinda got this idea while listening to bags by clairo so i hope this makes your heart tingle and your eyes water!)
fluff and flirtationnnn (ofc🙏🏽), slight angst & minor argument, internal homophobia, cuteness and clarity at the end | this is lengthy! i hope ya like
enjoy!🙂‍↕️
disclaimer: i write nothing but angst or fluff when it comes to hopkins p, considering she was in highschool. thank you! - im considering this a “throwback story” so i can make a part two for older reader and older paige. 🫶🏽
paige and you were completely different when it came to high school. her priorities consisted of basketball, her future career, and passing senior year so she can make way to uconn. you however, were all about academics. you were in basically any club available, maintained a 4.0 gpa, and quickly climbed the rank of class president. how you two met was random, your sophomore year you were in photography club, meaning you took pictures of all the sports teams for the yearbook, and she stayed behind to talk to you.
"cool ass camera." she said going to touch it, but you quickly swat her hand away.
"hey! no touching. you break you buy." you say slightly stern, pointing your finger at her.
"technically YOU'D have to buy, this has nothing to do with me." she says laughing and shrugging her shoulders, getting a smile out of you. for her first time seeing you smile, she sure was in love with it.
"okay "miss photographer", what's your name?" she asks you, hoping she can get to know you. "mine's paige."
"i know, i see you all the time, you're like.. the best basketball player here." you say bragging on her, feeling kind of shy when you give away that you're a big fan of her.
"oh really, you think so?" she says in a flirty tone while she flexes, making you blush out of nervousness.
"okay, okay, don't get too in your head now, but yeah, you're really good. i'm the one who records and snaps all your shots. but my name is y/n, since you asked." you say with such a sweet voice, something that sent her in a trance, completely dazed in the sound of you speaking.
"cute name. hey uh, i was gonna ask did you need any help packing this stuff up, i won't break it i promise." paige says chuckling, her smile pure and full of life, an image that stayed in your head since you met her.
two years pass, and you and paige can never separate. despite being utter opposites of each other, you're glued to the hip. you still did photography, getting the best candid photos of your best friend on the court, excited to post them on social media so she gets the attention she deserves. you gathered the pictures together and created a collage to post on instagram.
you were paige's biggest fan to say the least, buying a hoodie with her name and number on it, and being able to sit on the sidelines and watch her play, with your photographer privilege of course. anytime she made a three, she'd point at you, making you smile. watching her play was something you couldn't get enough of, learning the game so you could understand when she was frustrated with a play, or if she just rambled on to you about it, you'd know exactly what she was talking about.
paige and your bond grew stronger, going to family events together, having sleepovers every weekend, even during the week, as well as going on family trips with her. you felt like you had your person when it came down to paige. you didn't really know much about anyone at your school, and you definitely didn't expect the school's star basketball player to befriend you.
life wasn't always so peachy though. you really struggled finding yourself. for a long time you were confused, not when it came to school, when it came down to your feelings. ever since you met paige, there was this feeling you couldn't shake, this feeling of nurture and love that you gained from her, the type no one else could give you. growing up, you weren't one to express your feelings to your parents. they were always busy, super strict, and for some reason never found too much time for you. but paige, she always dropped anything even if meant seeing you for 5 minutes.
the first time paige saw you, she noticed how you radiated positive energy, even though she had no clue what you were going through at home. all she wanted was to be the person by your side through thick and thin, forever and always.
with about a month and a half of school left, paige and her teammates took home the trophy for the final game of the season, and you were more than proud for her, ecstatic even. when the final buzzer went off for the end of the game, paige made a 3 pointer, beating the buzzer. you stood up and cheered as loud as you could, while paige ran towards you and swiftly lifted you up into a hug, making your feet dangle in the air.
"i'm so proud of you p." you said, muffled into her shoulder, as you feel her start to tear up from her words, and one of her biggest achievements.
"i really couldn't have done it without you, you're my motivation y/n." you feel a catch in your throat, signaling you're about to cry, and she quickly wipes your tears.
her family takes you both out to eat, and you had a duffel bag in their trunk that you packed the night before, so you could stay over at paige's house tonight.
after eating and making it to paige's place, you and paige made it up to her room, where she dropped her bags and your duffel that she insisted on carrying so you didn't "hurt your pretty hands" as she'd say. her room has evolved so much over the years, furniture moved around, basketball posters growing on the walls every visit, but one thing that never changed, was the framed picture of you and her on your nightstand, you on her back after her first win, both of your smiles bright and lively. the same picture lingered on her lockscreen ever since you two took it, your lockscreen being a picture you and her took at a sleepover at your house, you two under a fuzzy olive green blanket, exceptionally close for "best friends", but you never really cared.
that's another thing when it came down to paige, you never really cared. sure, questions and rumors spread, "are y/n and paige together?" "is paige gay?" "what's y/n's sexuality?"
it got annoying after a while, and paige and you always seemed to avoid the questions, and simply ignore them. it sucked that you wondered the same thing though. that was a sensitive topic, you couldn't ask paige about that, what if she finds you weird and stops talking to you?
you though, you should've been asking yourself that question. you've dated one guy throughout high school, and sure you liked him, (so you thought), but he was rude and belittling. after a conversation with paige, you immediately broke up with him. "he's not good enough for you," she said to you, always knowing what was best.
the real question was, what really was good enough for me?
paige never dated anyone in highschool, she turned down girls AND guys, so it made it extra hard to read her, even though you knew her like a book, cover page to the summary on the back of it. you wanted to know, but you didn't want to lose her in the midst of your curiosity.
sitting on paige's bed, you took your shoes off and got comfortable like you usually do, and she took off her practice gear and sat next to you.
"thank you for always being here for me y/n, like seriously." she sounds so genuine and would do anything to keep you here forever.
"p, i'm always gonna be here for you, you're my best friend." you go to embrace her, her muscular arms holding you close, your perfume lingering in her nose, making her feel at home.
you and her let go and look at each other for a while, eye contact never breaking, when she leans in for a kiss, and you let her in. the kiss is slow, as she tries to learn your body language, the kiss is meaningful, but is cut short when she starts freaking out.
"jesus christ y/n i'm sorry."
"i didn't mean to do that, it was an accident,"
an accident?
"oh, uh, yeah it's fine." you say, confused on what the big deal was, you've been wanting to do that forever, but i guess things weren't reciprocated.
things quickly got awkward, and then paige says something that honestly breaks your heart a little.
"maybe you shouldn't stay the night tonight, i uh, got family stuff."
you knew that wasn't true, she just didn't want you around after a moment like this just happened. but why is she shutting it down?
"you don't wanna talk first, i mean a lot just happened i think we should ta-" you try to explain to her when she cuts you off.
"just go home y/n." her voice cold and bleak, making you queasy.
paige was never like this with you, can a kiss really change everything? you thought asking your best friend a question would make you lose her, but you two KISSED. your heart dropped to your feet with the thoughts swarming in your head, "is she gonna leave me?" being the main one.
the next day rolls around, it was 12:30, the time she usually got back home after practicing with her dad, and you’ve received no sign of her, no texts or missed facetimes, which was unusual since you promised each other two years ago you'd try to facetime every. single. day. "she just needs time," you thought to yourself, but you text her anyway.
"hey paigeyyy, i'm gonna go to the store later, did you want me to pick anything up for you? i can drop by your house and give it to you?"
read 12:35pm
she read your message, but didn't respond until ten minutes later with a simple and dry "no" which made you sigh and move on about the day.
you missed paige. you slowly start to regret last night, but there's nothing you can do to change it. you already miss her face, her hugs, her lips, and how she looked at you. you open your camera roll to see a picture you and her took last night after her game, her holding you bridal style while you hold up her trophy, both of you smiling at each other. you put your phone down and decide to lay down for the rest of the day, as you had no motivation to do anything knowing your best friend didn't even wanna speak to you.
but deep down it was more than that, you had really fallen for paige, not wanting anyone but her, was that so wrong?
paige on the other hand, was losing it. she didn't know what to do with herself. there was no way she liked girls, let alone her best friend.
so why did she kiss her?
she wanted answers, but she couldn't and didn't want to talk to anyone about it, scared of how others would perceive her, worried she'd lose people over this, and worst of all, she didn't want to lose her best friend. she had to push her away, she needed space to think.
she thought there was nothing wrong with that, but it was the worst thing she could've done.
a week passes, neither of you are talking much, you haven't facetimed in what seems like forever, and her responses to you are weak and bland, making you feel as if she's not interested in talking to you anymore.
prom is approaching, you and paige planned to go together, to dance, make fun of other peoples dancing, and have another lively moment before summer break. but after that night, you're not sure what you two are gonna do, mainly because the day of prom, paige hadn't texted you at all. you weren't gonna go since you figured she wasn't, but you needed to get out of bed and go do something fun to get your mind off of the situation.
a couple hours go by, and you're finished getting ready. you have on an all black floor length dress, with small purple accents, since you already pre picked it out, intending to match with paige. you took your pictures with your parents, and drove to the school, as prom was being held in the gym this year.
you get there, hands clammy from your nervousness. you hate being here without paige, you wanted to take so many pictures, make so many memories, slow dance, and this was gonna be the night you were ACTUALLY planning on kissing her for the first time, showing her how long you've loved her.
the whole time you've been standing around looking bored, knowing you'd have so much fun if paige were here. that's until a guy from the football team comes up to you, asking you to dance with him. you insist, as you have nothing better to do. a slow song starts, and you and him are dancing slowly, until you notice a familiar face walk in the gym. paige.
she sees you and him and storms off to the bathroom, furious at the fact that you looked so beautiful, and that she wasn't the one with hands around your waist, taking in all your beauty.
you excuse yourself from his grasp, walking towards the bathroom, letting it clear out before you walk in.
"hey.." you say softly, not wanting to come off aggressive as if she hasn't been talking to you in what seemed like ages.
"what the fuck is he doing slow dancing with you? that was our thing y/n." she says, sort of yelling at you, but you quickly retaliate.
"no paige. you don't get to be mad at me because YOU shut me out. all i wanted to do was talk to you, you made me feel crazy, like something was wrong with me." you say, starting to cry.
"you completely went ghost on me, since before that night i've wanted no one but you, but i guess it doesn't matter,"
"i didn't come with him, he just asked me to dance because i looked bored, so i said yes." you tell her, looking at the tiled bathroom floor.
paige cups your chin and pulls your head up so you can look her in the eyes.
"i'm sorry y/n. i shouldn't have ran from you, i was scared. i really did mean to kiss you, just not like that. i wanted it to be special, i wanted it to be while we danced. i thought he was about to take that opportunity away from me. it woulda been memorable y'know?" she says while looking deep in your eyes, hoping you'd forgive her. “i know i’ve been acting weird, i just didn’t know what to do if i lost you.”
"i was also scared of what people would think of me, yknow, liking girls and shit. especially liking you, you're perfect, i didn't wanna ruin anything for you."
you don't respond immediately, until she says what's been on her mind since she met you.
"i'm in love with you, y/n. i've loved you since the first time i met you, you keep me sane, and without you i was losing my shit. there’s nothing wrong with you ma, and i apologize for making you feel that way."
your eyes go a little bit wider, and you finally respond, "i love you too paige, i always have. forget what other people think p, nobody matters but me with you." you smile wide at her and she smiles back, finally feeling content with herself, knowing she said what needed to be said, and could kiss you whenever she wanted to.
she leans in to kiss you, but you stop her.
"what cmon, i can't kiss you now?" she said to you while rolling her eyes.
"you said you wanted it to be special right?" you grab her hand and hold it for a while.
"yes ma'am i did," she says, leading you out of the bathroom and back to the gym, where another slow song has started. she quickly rests her hands on your waist, your hands on her shoulders, as you two sway to the song blasting through the cheap speakers the school borrowed.
"god, you look beautiful baby." paige says, finally taking in all of your perfection. your hair, makeup, and jewelry aligned perfectly, fitting you so well, she just loved looking at you. before you two continue dancing, she pulls her phone out of her dress pants pocket, and while she does so you take a good look at her. she looks stunning. a black button up and black dress pants, a silver chain completing the look. she goes to her camera app, and you kiss her on the cheek as a pose for the picture. she snaps multiple and eagerly changes her lockscreen.
"i love seeing this beautiful face everytime i turn my phone on," she says, you roll your eyes out of her corniness, but it still makes you blush. you also take a picture of the two of you, and you update your lockscreen as well.
"and i love seeing yours, and plus, this button up looks a little too good on you," you tell her, making her bite her lip slightly.
she grabs your hand and twirls you, bringing you back in, your faces exceptionally close to one another. the slow song comes to and end, and paige takes one hand off of your waist to cup your face, and connects her lips with yours and utters the words that make you happy to have met her,
"i love you y/n."
"i love you too paige."
and for the first time, you knew you had a forever person, and that person was paige bueckers.
HEY BAD BITCHESSS!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYEDDD I KNOW THERE’S NOT MANY HOPKINS FICS OUT THERE SO I WANTED TO TRY! i’ll try and be consistent with posting, just bare with me 🙂‍↕️ love you
tags: @rosemariiaa @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter
🫶🏽🫶🏽
the collage that “would’ve been posted”
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felibrary · 1 day
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╭──╯GOOD DAYS | even as the snow falls atop his hair and the colorful fireworks launch in the distance, sylus can't help but keep his eyes off of you.
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pairing: sylus x reader (gender neutral) | content & warnings: just some toothrotting fluff, bit of banter and bicker, reader is implied to be shorter than sylus, possibly ooc sylus | wordcount: 1.1k ; ficlet
author's note: this is based off his nightplume card with my own little add-ons lolll (also i don't even play lad anymore..so if you see any mischaracterizations here..yeah..)
A/N: Loll finally posted again and it's lad haha, enjoy!!
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"sylus, i'm cold."
your boyfriend raises his brow and sighs, having the audacity to act disappointed. "i've warned you about the cold weather. should've listened to me about wearing a scarf," he smirks while you on the other hand only huff, frown deepening.
"well, i didn't know it'd be this cold," you shudder as the snowflakes meet your nape and slowly dissolve.
you're pretty sure you look absolutely ridiculous right now — with a runny nose and a hoarse voice complaining about something you're at fault for, to sylus who simply enjoys watching your dilemma and chuckles in amusement.
there aren’t often moments when sylus feels at ease, always on the lookout if something happens to you when he isn’t around. but he knows that if he stays by your side there won’t ever be something bad happening to you — he makes sure of that and instead decides to enjoy these simple but meaningful moments with you.
so maybe these little moments make him pay less attention to his surroundings than usual, oblivious to the snow that gets stuck in his hair and you can’t help but cackle a bit. “what?” he asks curiously. “there’s snow in your hair,” you point out. sylus’ gaze drifts up for a split-second before smiling and lowering his head. “help me,” his voice is soft as he requests you to help him.
even through hands covered in mittens, you can feel how soft sylus’ hair is, you play with his hair for a bit, rubbing your hand over his head before finally brushing the remaining snow out. “be careful, even a crow can turn into a dove in this weather,” you smile. “a crow? what a funny thing of you to say,” sylus returns your smile before turning his head away from you to look at the fireworks and so do you.
the fireworks are pretty, magnificent even. they vary in size, motive, and color but despite all of that each of them is unique and beautiful in its own way, making it unable to rip your eyes off them..besides maybe one exception.
not even a moment later, the exception in question turns to you, expectant ruby eyes staring down at you before swaying his gaze down to the snow-covered railing, smiling. "want me to draw you?" the turned-up collar of his stuffed leather jacket rises and falls along his neck as he exhales.
you follow his gaze and scoff. "sylus, what are you up to," you mutter under your breath. he doesn't respond, instead his gloved hand meets the metal railing before slowly tracing circles in the snow, and soon after you're able to recognize what he drew — a cat.
“seriously? a cat? i thought i’d at least be something more intimidating like a tiger,” you complain in faux offense. sylus only hums “do you know what you look like right now?” he doesn’t wait for you to respond before tracing lines onto the cat’s forehead.
"like a tiger that meows when it opens its mouth," he says, voice laced with sarcasm. upon seeing it, you can't help but crack a smile. "you're so stupid," you express with a shake of your head. "says the stubborn one who refused to dress warmly," he huffs before turning away from you again.
those ruby eyes full of danger and a lust for adventure soften upon seeing the shower of fireworks being cast in the sky. a mixture of bright red and blue colors paints the sky and casts a light shadow over sylus’ figure. 
you playfully roll your eyes at him, grinning as you scoop some of the snow off the railing. “sylus, you still have snow in your hair, want me to get it out for you?” you offer, a sweet smile gracing your lips. “what, you want to deepen our relationship? but if you insist,” he smirks before lowering his head.
you reach forward and unlike sylus’ expectation your hand lands on his cheek, making his eyes widen in surprise while you bite your bottom lip, suppressing the giggle you’ve been meaning to let out ever since you got the idea. sylus shoots you a boyish smile before flicking his fingers against your forehead which catches you off guard. “unprompted benevolence wasn't out of the kindness of your heart,”
before you’re able to process what’s happening, sylus pulls you into a tight embrace, strong arms snaking around your waist and holding you closely to his chest. "sylus let me go, i can't see the fireworks" you muffle into his jacket. "mhm, but weren't you the one who was complaining about the cold just now?” he says absentmindedly and you gaze up at him as he turns his head to the fireworks. 
his eyes find yours again, ruby eyes locking with yours as he gives you a mirthful smile. i'd rather not let you be exposed to the cold again" you glare at him which seems to amuse him even more because his next move is to pull you closer than before. (which you didn’t even know was possible from how close the two of you were already.)
luckily he lets you go soon after and you breathe in relief and observe him curiously as he pulls something out of the pocket of his jacket — a scarf. you gasp in surprise. “you had a scarf with you all along?” you ask him dumbfoundedly, not sure whether to be grateful for having something to warm your neck which isn’t sylus’ biceps, or if you should feel betrayed that he hid it from you.
“i’ve had a hunch that you’d forget yours in the rush, always so forgetful.” he smiles softly before wrapping the scarf around your neck, twice around your neck, and once around your.. eyes? “sylus, i swear to god.” even with your eyes covered beneath the wool scarf you can practically see sylus smirking to himself. “fine, fine,” he mutters, smiling before removing the scarf from your eyes.
the scarf sits nicely around your neck and not to mention it’s very comfortable and keeps you warm. you exchange glances with sylus before turning your attention to the fireworks again. 
from beneath you, on the riverbank, a bunch of people are lighting up their fireworks before watching after them as they fly into the distance. your eyes follow the fireworks as they light up the night sky and their reflections shimmer on the surface of the river. “the fireworks are so pretty, aren’t they?” you turn to sylus, expecting him to watch the fireworks too, instead you find his ruby eyes fixated on yours. 
“yeah, they really are.”
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TAGS: @azullumi we're just gonna ignore the fact that this is dedicated to you and your birthday you oldie gramps of a geezer which was one week ago.....but anyway although i don't want to repeat what i said in my birthday letter (which you haven't read yet LOL) i want to tell you that in such a short period of time you've grown to a person I've learned to love so easily as if it were naturally - which it is. you're so loveable that it makes me wonder how anyone could ever hold a grudge towards you? you're the sweetest soul on earth and i wish i would've been there for your birthday to congratulate you in person but well beggars can't be choosers. azul, you're my soulmate and i appreciate everything about you and everything that you've done for me. i love how clear and easy our communication is, i love our little playful banters that other people find questionable and i love that people associate the two of us together, even when it means mistaking us for one another, which just proves how close we even appear to other people. you're the embodiment of lovely and loveable to me. i love you to death azul and once again happy birthday! <3
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© FELIBRARY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.
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It feels like hope.
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Pairing: Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak
Words count: 5700
Rating: Strictly +18, MINORS DON’T INTERACT
Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, priest kink, catholic guilt, religious kink, smut, unprotected p in v (use protections IRL!), reader has breasts and vagina and hair that can be pulled and wears a shirt and a skirt, apart from that no other description is given, age is not mentioned but they’re both grown up adults and reader is only inexperienced because she grew up in a very catholic family, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), sex in a rectory, hair pulling, blasphemy all over the place 💀, pussy pronouns she/her, drinking, two hits on nipples, improper use of liturgical objects, cream pie, pet names (angel, baby), reader calls him "Father" during sex, mention of hell, mention of porn videos, mention of masturbation, improper use of prayers, God named in vain, another thing that I won’t spoil... listen, this thing is filthy, probably the filthiest more immoral thing I've ever wrote, ok? If you think you can't handle it just scroll down to another story.
This is a revised version of something I had already posted and then deleted because I personally didn't like it.
It took me months to come to an end with it, I don’t know why, I’ve changed a lot of things, I’ve changed the pov, I’ve changed dynamics etc… I really really hope you will enjoy it and please be gentle with me, I really tried hard even if you would think it’s no good.
English is not my first language and I have no beta so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry.
Title is a Fleabag quote, specifically from our beloved hot priest “when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope”
Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this story, thanks to those who were there from the beginning (you know who you are and I love you) and thanks to anyone who will read 🩷
(Just added a brief note at the end 😉)
It all started on a Sunday. 
You came to your neighborhood church expecting a nice function and you exited knowing you were doomed. 
That Sunday you met the new parish priest.
From the first moment you felt like something in you was compromised. 
You couldn't even explain it to yourself and you had never felt like this, it was something so unfamiliar. 
A need you’ve never felt before.
Your eyes glued to his holy form, adoring his raven curly hair, his scruff, the curve of his neck, his strong nose, plump lips, broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands.
Courteous and kind as he greeted parishioners leaving the church, he shook your hand and you felt a jolt.
You weren’t like this before, you did things to do good to others before. But now…
Volunteering for every event, clothing drive, bake sale, children's shows. You were always there for the ride. Making excuses to talk to him.
Wondering if he had any more freckles than the ones on his neck, how warm his skin would be, how manly and intoxicating his scent would be, what his kisses would taste like, what his fingers would have felt like inside your cunt, peeking at the outline of his cock under his black pants.
A perfect Christian girl who would have make your mother proud on the outside, a raging hell of arousal on the inside.
You couldn’t believe that he was him who had awakened this new person inside you, insanely hungry, wanting, needing to taste, lick, bite. 
His low gruff voice grueling from his chest echoed against your damp inner walls so much that you were almost afraid to get up after the mass and see a stain where you were seated.
It was more and more difficult every time to fight your urge, stay on the tracks of life that you were taught to live, no sex before marriage, no masturbation because it’s a sin, no impure thoughts because you were a good girl.
Yet now you could hear them, all those voices crowding your head, pushing you towards something you had been taught was wrong.
Entering the church you were trembling, guilt pulsing in your gut.
Everything was quiet and serene, your eyes wandered on the frescoed walls, the organ, the large altar and the wooden benches neatly lined up in rows in the central nave, your steps sounded uncertain and timid on the marble floor.
You entered the confessional feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest, palms sweating and your mouth dry.
You could hear his breathing through the grate.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned” 
The following silence weighed like never before.
“Open your heart to the Lord so He can forgive your sins”
And you had confessed. 
The words slipped from your mouth like pearls from a broken necklace, finally rolling free between your lips revealing your every sordid thought.
The girl shaped by catholic parents to be a modest virgin, mother and maid, perfect smile and delicate manners was in reality a shameful bundle of filth.
You were a sinner.
A sinner eaten out from dirty thoughts.
You told him how you couldn't stop thinking about him, how you had questioned your feelings and who you were as a person, how you hadn't spent a night without touching yourself thinking about him in many months.
You told him about your desire to kiss him and more. So much more. Everything.
Every single time you lowered your hand in your panties, every single time you squeezed your breasts, driven by instinct and desire, every single time you thought of him as Joel. Just Joel, a man.
You just wanted to let go of the weight on your chest, coming clean. If you said it all out loud you would have realized how crazy it was.
You heard the door snapping, a few heavy steps close to where you were seated, the door opening to your side.  
Suddenly he was there, standing in front of you.
He said nothing, only grabbed your arm, dragging you to the rectory.
Dust in the air danced beneath the soft light that came in from two small windows high up.
There wasn't much in the room, a cupboard where liturgical objects were kept, a table, a wardrobe where the clothes for the service were hung.
Nobody was there except the two of you, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and your heart drumming behind your rib cage.
He was staring at you. 
Your mouth sealed, a lump in your stomach.
You thought about the day he tried to teach you how to play guitar.
You were here, together, helping with the Christmas party. He was sitting strumming when you walked in, you tried not to surprise him from behind by pretending to cough and he turned to you. He didn’t stop playing as he greeted you, you told him “I didn’t know you played” and he invited you to try. As you sat down your legs were shaking, he gave you the guitar and you just stared at it, fingers uncertain and mind empty. 
“It’s not that hard” he told you and he leaned over you taking one of your hands in his and placing it on the neck of the guitar, moving your fingers over the strings “like this. Now play”
You strummed on the guitar and an unpleasant sound came out, you both laughed softly at your clumsiness and a flood of pleasure slicked your panties.
His breath on you was like a caress, you felt the minty scent grazing at your nostrils.
For a moment, just for a moment you thought, “I could turn around right now and kiss him. A few inches and my lips would be on his.”
Your desire flowed before your eyes, leaving you with nothing else to look at.
“But I can’t. I can’t.” 
You've tried to swat away that sinful thought with another strum on the guitar but nothing disappeared, instead it burned in your core even strongly than before.
You thought about that day when the rain caught you on your way to set up the bake sale, how you walked into the rectory soaked from head to toe, how he looked at your shirt stuck to your skin that left little to the imagination, how you instinctively covered yourself when you just wanted to let your arms hang at your sides and let him look at you. You saw a reaction in his eyes as he mumbled that he was going to get you a towel, just a moment before he regained his composure, and it was enough. You knew that he was not indifferent to you. That night you touched yourself imagining what it would be like if he took your shirt off, if he placed his lips on your neck, his tongue on your breast, his cock inside you.
You started to navigate on porn sites daily, out of curiosity first and then because you needed to see, you needed to imagine, you needed to visualize something so unfamiliar and strange to you. 
You were ashamed, but at the same time you couldn't help it, it was the only resource you could think of looking for and it was there, on your phone, private, no one would have known. You didn't even imagine you would find so many, a whole catalog of big dicks, huge tits, positions that your brain couldn't conceive.
Seeing those women pleasuring themselves scared you but at the same time attracted you, you wanted to be like them, you wanted to reach that pleasure, you wanted to try their way of using their hands, you wanted to refine your clumsy way of reaching that heat between your legs.
You sinked into it.
If your parents had known, if your community had known, you would have been branded an unworthy woman, a pervert, a slut.
But your parents were far away now, your whole life was somewhere else and you were proud to have freed yourself from the golden cage they had locked you in. You were an adult now, it was the moment to choose for yourself. If they hadn’t always denied you any other vision of the world, if they hadn’t forbidden you to have the experiences that everyone has in their youth, maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way.
His mouth was a thin line, tensed, you looked into his eyes and you saw nothing than dark.
So much different from the gentle detachment he had always shown to everyone, his look was a mixture of concern, agitation, maybe a hint of fear, but most of all - to your great surprise - sexual arousal.
You could see him cracking behind those eyes, you could feel his mind filling with all sorts of questions.
His voice was barely a whisper but sharp as a blade when he finally spoke “Are you even honest with that ‘I am a good christian’ thing? Say the truth”
You hesitated, the uneasiest bitter taste in your mouth.
“I-” your throat felt like atrophied “yes” you tried to say.
“No, you’re not. The least you could do is being fucking honest with Him” he raised his finger pointing it at the ceiling.
You’ve never heard him cursing before.
You looked down feeling the weight of your stomach turn to lead and then concrete and if you thought you were free now you felt even more guilty. 
You said the only thing your brain could think of at that moment and you knew what you were asking for, you knew what it would do to him and you knew that in this way you would drag him down with you. And yet you did it anyway, because desire was stronger than anything, than faith, than lies, than truth.
“I need-I need to repent. Teach me” you pleaded “teach me how to be good”
Something lit up in his gaze, like a spark of hell, a glow of lust.
He turned around and you hungrily followed his every move.
His hands moving expertly, the cupboard opening, him taking out the mass wine and pouring it into a chalice.
You saw him down the entire glass, without hesitation, without a shred of tremor.
You felt like you were watching a hurricane approaching, just waiting for the wind to suck you in without being able to do anything else.
You wanted it. You wanted it to sweep you away, to make you someone else, braver, indomitable, someone who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted because of a belief that had been instilled in her, someone who was simply herself. 
We are all born with guilt, you told yourself. I am tired, tired of dealing with mine so much.
You just wanted to feel alive, to feel something authentic and fierce, no half measures. 
You wanted to be desired in a way that felt relentless and desperate, like air that is necessary to keep humans alive, something unique and undeniable.
Could Joel read it in your eyes? He was so good at reading people, you could tell it right away. 
He had guessed a lot about you, he had noticed how coffee was a weakness of yours - and his - and he offered you a cup first thing in every meeting.
He had noticed how nervous Danny, a parishioner who liked to play the fool with any woman present, most often in front of his wife, got you and made sure to never leave you alone with him.
He had noticed how much you enjoyed sewing and had assigned you the costumes for the play and praised your work. 
And he did the same with the guitar that day when he saw how enthusiast and curious you were about it. He didn't say it openly, but his gestures spoke for him.
He came closer to you again, bending the chalice to your mouth and said “drink”. Sharp, cold, an order.
At that point you didn’t care it was something you were not supposed to do, forbidden, maybe unholy even, you just drank. 
You were dealing with a part of yourself that always existed but you had put that in a box.
Joel looked into your eyes sternly and said: “Show me the good Christian that you think you are. Pray.”
“What?”
“Pray. Right now” 
“What prayer?” You asked, confused.
“You're not starting off well, you should know that.” He smirked, caught you in fail.
“Act of contrition” you whispered and he nodded “yes. That’s right.”
He was just inches away from you, his crucifix hanging between your bodies, grazing at your stomach. 
You began to recite in a low voice, stumbling over your words, your brain couldn’t think straight:
“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest… all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving all my love.”
You said it dozen of times before and yet it seemed totally different in that moment. 
Joel took off his rosary, letting it dangle from his hand and swing across your chest. Beads brushed against the cotton bra you wore under your blouse, making your nipples harden, you could feel them pushing against the fabric.
“Go on”
“I- I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen”
“Take off your shirt,” he told you in a whisper.
Something shifted inside him “and your bra”
His voice was no longer the same, it came from deep within him, frighteningly authoritarian but to you it seemed like a magic instrument that was hypnotizing you.
You did what he told you. 
You were half naked in front of a man for the first time. It could have happened before, much before, but of course you couldn’t because you never got married. No one was supposed to see your body except the man you were going to take to the altar. That’s what they taught you.
Joel looked at you, entranced, almost in disbelief. You wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone else’s naked body, what effect it had on him. 
You were more alike than you seemed, both of you denied something because of religion. 
You were both more needy and frustrated than you were allowed to admit. Tension hung in the air like a fog that clouded both of your gazes.
Every time you had talked to him you had noticed the way he looked at you but you thought it was all in your head, like you were a poor naive girl who was building castles in the air, but now you knew that wasn't the case.
It was another thing you shouldn’t have done but you prayed deep down that he wouldn’t decide to stop.
He raised his arm, clutching his rosary. You felt a slash through the air and then a sharp smack on your nipple.
You looked down shocked as the pain quickly turned into a dull pleasure rising from the pit of your tummy, to fade more and more, becoming a tingling sensation.
You liked it.
You wanted more.
He did the same at your other breast and all the breath you had left in your body had slipped past your lips in a lustful sob.
He took one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting and pinching it and you couldn’t help but moan. A sound you never made for no one and you made it first for a priest.
His body pushed you against the wall, his breath on your neck, his fingers didn't stop torturing your nipple. Everything you saw was red. Red like the passion you had never felt before, red like the blood that pulsed in your veins, red like sin.
“Kneel” he said firmly.
You were equal parts scared of making a fool of yourself and eager to try.
You knelt down, feeling the cold of the floor touch your shins. 
His eyes were as uncertain as yours, it was new territory for both of you but you saw a flame burning in him and you felt it inside you. 
His face was serious, tense, as if he was ashamed of what he was doing but couldn't contain. 
He was punishing you and punishing himself at the same time.
You weren’t afraid though, you were ready to face what was eating you up and you trusted Joel for some reason. You could see in him that he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not more than you wanted.
Your tentative fingers undid his pants, letting them sag around his ankles. A pronounced erection protruded from his boxers as his eyes almost begged you, they weren’t cruel and ruthless eyes, but rather needy and guilty.
You moved your hand closer to his crotch, hesitating for a moment before placing it there, testing the sensation, opening your fingers around it to realize how thick it was. You could feel the heat through the fabric. You caressed it, feeling the tremor that shook Joel's body. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away, it was the first time you had seen one in person, you were amazed and attracted. You continued to caress him until you heard a grunt leave Joel’s lips and a stain wet the front of his boxers. You were struck by how much he was growing under your hand and the smell, like musk, pungent but not unpleasant.
You remembered the videos you had seen, how women did it, looking into the men's eyes lustfully, with a confidence and naturalness you had never acquired. You wanted to be like them, but you were afraid of being ridiculous or grotesque.
You slowly pulled down his boxers, gasping at the sight of his cock springing free. 
Joel had his eyes fixed on you, they were encouraging somehow, he made you feel safe but the trembling of your fingers did not stop. You took his shaft in your hand again and were surprised at how soft his skin was there, velvety. You watched that thin layer of skin retract as you moved your hand up and down like you had seen in the videos, it felt incredible. It was heavy, hot and throbbing. It was uncut. His big balls hanging right under. You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking, spreading it around.
Joel was quiet, he let you do it.
He was touch starving, just like you.
You lowered your head and licked him, just with the tip of your tongue. A timid lick, like a kitten.
His taste, matching the musky scent you could smell, invaded your mouth in an instant. You had never tasted anything like it. You braced yourself, while Joel waited, and licked once more, this time starting at the base and working your way up.
Joel groaned.
You pulled away, looking into his eyes, he brought a hand to your cheek and then to your chin and took it in his palm. 
“You are so beautiful” he whispered.
And you felt beautiful, you felt like someone was really seeing you for the first time. And you loved that that someone was him.
You took a deep breath and lowered your head onto his cock, you knew you couldn't fit it all in your mouth, but you wanted to take as much as you could.
“Don’t force yourself” Joel murmured as your lips touched his skin, causing another whine.
“I want to do it” you replied resolutely, you were loving hearing him whimper beneath you.
His length slid across your tongue, wet and salty, your lips closing around it.
You closed your eyes and focused on that feeling, just holding it there, nestled inside.
“Suck it,” Joel commanded gently, bringing a hand into your hair and twining his fingers there.
You were unsure how to do it, you tried to suck it in as if you were using a large straw, with all the breath you had.
Joel flinched, almost losing his balance “Easy, baby” he muttered
You pulled away again, eyes widened “oh my god, I’m sorry” almost afraid of having hurt him but he immediately reassured you "no it's okay, just... go slower, go slower if you don't want me to come right away”
“Uh- okay” responding timidly to the smile that was spreading across his face.
You began to suck again more calmly, holding the base tightly with your hand, feeling it pulsate between your fingers and on your tongue.
It was an addictive sensation, spreading through your synapses like a drug.
Obviously you had never tried any drugs, but you imagined that the sensation might be similar to something like that.
Joel still held your head, his grip tightening as you continued, you could feel his body tense and respond, and you liked it. You liked it more than you ever liked putting on your Sunday best and going to say prayers with your parents like you always had.
There was actually a prayer that was ringing in your head and it was Joel's, who softly repeated "just like that, you're being so good to me”
It was exhilarating.
You felt like you had a true gift, for once in your life.
An obscene gift, but still.
You had the courage to run from your mom and dad and then at what felt like a minute later you found yourself there, naked from waist up, on your knees, sucking a priest cock.
You’ve never felt more alive.
Deep down you were exactly that person there, not a whore like everyone you knew would say. Just a woman, a woman who wanted what other women wanted. Sex, pleasure, being important to someone or just not being condemned to do what others wanted for you.
You continued to suck as Joel's breathing became heavier and more labored.
At that point he was just uttering disconnected phrases like “oh my God” and “Yes, go on”, his voice hoarse and scratchy.
Suddenly he started shaking violently, almost falling, as something warm and sticky hit your throat. You knew what it was and you were eager to swallow, as you had seen done in so many videos.
A little of it slipped from your lips, down your chin, onto your neck.
Joel's hand was still in your hair, it almost hurt but it was a delicious pain that you were enduring, a small punishment for the rush of adrenaline and excitement that was coursing through you.
You kept holding his cock in your mouth until you felt it relax.
“Get up,” Joel said gently, still out of breath, as he was fixing his boxers and pants.
Your knees almost gave out, you leaned against the wall feeling wetness on your panties.
Joel came closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss that left you stunned for a second and then you were more than happy to reciprocate. His tongue in your mouth explored feverishly, you wondered if he could taste himself from your lips.
He pulled out saying “I’ve never done anything like this before” and you replied “me neither.” 
And then he was on your lips again, nibbling at your lower one, placing his hand on your thigh, raising it under your skirt, up to your drenched panties, grazing them with his fingers.
You squirmed, moaning a “yes, please” from down your throat, a tingle spreading on your outer lips, in your tummy, up to your chest.
He put his hand inside your panties, brushing your skin.
“What should I do with you?” He asked, in an almost desperate tone, as if he knew he couldn't stop and was asking permission not to.
“Make me come” you pleaded “Please.”
He sighed, pulling your panties aside and sliding his index and middle fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness up to your clit, starting circling it as you writhed. 
It was different than when you did it yourself, his fingers bigger and stronger, his touch a little clumsy but still effective and intoxicating.
His mouth landed on your neck, stifling a moan, sucking a hickey where it joined your shoulders, nibbling hungrily at your skin.
“Have you ever done this before?” 
“Just…me” 
He smirked “have you ever put your fingers inside you?” 
“I- yes.” there were no point on beating around the bush, you told him that you touched yourself thinking about him. You were already deep down into that dizzy. 
“Put your fingers in me” you added immediately “I want to feel them, please Joel, I want to know what they can do to me” 
“You sure?” 
“Yes, yes.” You breathed.
He prodded at your entrance,  just a little bit, making you whine just with his fingers tip.
The rosary lay abandoned on the floor, you could see it out of the corner of your eye and you didn't care about that eyewitness symbol of what was happening between you two.
You would have liked him to put it around your neck while he fucked you, fully participating in that sinful act. 
You were surprised yourself at what you were thinking but somehow it made you even more eager.
You felt two of his fingers sink inside you, filling that void that you had never been able to fill enough on your own, stretching you. 
It hurts a little at first because they were bigger than yours, but then it was more heavenly than anything else. If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.
Joel looked ecstatic “God, she’s so… wet” he whispered “and warm” His face was the representation of pleasure, lips slightly parted, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated, his heavy breathing blowing on your neck.
He began to move his fingers inside you rhythmically, each thrust making you shake and sob, a litany of “yes” coming out strangled from your mouth.
He went slowly, taking his time, as if he was savoring every second of your pussy tightening around his fingers.
He placed his other hand on your breast again, cupping and squeezing and then twisting your nipple. Big hand full of your tit.
It was beautiful. You didn’t know how or why people could deny themselves that, but you certainly wouldn’t do it again, not after having Joel inside you. He curled his fingers, looking for the right way to make you feel the pleasure you wanted, the one you kept asking for.
“You like that, baby?” He asked with an hopeful tone
“It feels so good, so good” you told him, clinging to his neck, digging your nails into his soft skin as you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't care about losing it, your mind had ruled your life for so, so long.
“Please don’t stop” you murmured, tightening your other hand on his wrist, guiding him “don't stop”
You felt your essence slowly leaking out of you, spreading over Joel's fingers and your outer lips, you had never been so soaked, never so much as under Joel's touch.
Your eyes suddenly fixed on that little piece of white cloth that was around his neck, that little piece that made all the difference in the world and made what you were doing terribly wrong in the eyes of others and God and Joel kissed you again like a man deprived and starved, his lips trembling and dramatic, asking silently for more and more, like they were drinking from yours.
He was all over you, like a sailor through a  violent storm, he clung to whatever he could, as if it were a matter of life and death. 
Tasting him like this, the smell of his skin, his warmth, his clerical clothes rubbing against your half-naked body, made your head spin.
You moved your hand onto his collar, grasping it with your fingers, pulling it, until it came undone, you squeezed it as you came copiously, repeating Joel's name and God's, cutting off your moans, abandoning your head on Joel's shoulder.
It was all too much and yet not enough, you wished it would never end. Joel held you tight, one hand moving behind your back, as his fingers continued to sink into you. The blinding pleasure that had invaded every fiber of your body was raging like hell’s flames inside you, like a sinful but also purifying fire, wrong and right, heavenly and hellish.
And then it slowly faded, giving way to a sense of satisfaction that had never belonged to you.
You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding again.
Joel grunted, pulling his fingers out of you, taking them to his lips, gathering your juices with his tongue.
“I want… I want your cock, Father” you whispered, at that point you felt greedy, delirious, drunk on sex.
His eyes widened, being called “Father” was making him even more aroused and dizzy.
You grabbed his balls from above his pants, holding your hand tightly on them “please, Joel”.
If you were going to Hell for this, you might as well go all the way.
Joel pushed you against the table on the other side of the room, making you sit on it, unzipped his pants again, pulling out his cock without hesitation, as if he had finally accepted his fate.
His fingers were big but his cock… you wondered how it would all fit inside you.
“I’ll go slowly” Joel reassured you “It will fit” he said, brushing your folds with the tip, aligning his cock with your entrance, as if he had guessed your thoughts. His eyes were blacker than ever as he prodded his shaft past through your lips.
It felt overwhelming, so big and pulsing, it hurt but you almost immediately felt a fullness that you had never felt and a sense of belonging, your pussy opened like a bud, widening and molding for him.
If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.
“She’s tight, so damn tight” Joel gawked “fuck” 
You whimpered, looking at his face, so serious, pleasure written all over it and you felt like it was right, it had to be right if it was that good.
“Make me yours, Father, make me good” you pleaded. 
Joel growled as he slid in and out of you, slamming against your walls, your pussy making obscene squelching sounds every time he moved, dripping all over his cock and the table.
It didn’t even seem embarrassing to you to be so inexperienced, you both were. You didn’t know if Joel had had sex before but you guessed he hadn’t had it in a long time anyway. 
You didn't know if it was the way it was supposed to be but you felt like it was natural, not like in the videos you'd seen which were probably mostly choreographed to please the eye.
It was sex. Pure and simple. Urgent, hungry, even uncontrolled.
And the way your body reacted, melting like wax under Joel's hands, arching into his touch, bending to his will, and seeking all the friction you could get, told you that this was the right way for you.
“See?” Joel mumbled “You’re taking me so well, baby, a perfect angel for me”
You twisted your legs behind his back, pushing him against you as much as you could, kissing the exposed skin on his neck. It drove you crazy that he was still dressed, you wanted to rip off his shirt and run your hands down on him, feel his warm skin on yours so you did it. You placed your hands on both sides and you just popped every button, revealing his broad chest, feeding your eyes with every single detail and your fingers with every shape and curve.
“Never had a cock inside before but that pussy is made for mine, I swear to God she is” he started desperately rutting into you, deeper strokes every time, taking God’s name in vain, murmuring some prayers while he pounded into you. You could feel his big vein brushing at your walls, his big mushroom hammering your cervix, the most intense rapture you’ve ever felt.
He pulled at your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye, murmuring “that’s what you wanted, huh? Dragging me to hell with you?”
Your eyes filled with tears at the thought. It was true, somehow you corrupted him, but you were willing to face that just to feel something so strong. You weren’t sure about him though.
But again, he was there, right there with you, with his cock inside your cunt and you didn’t force any of it, he could say no, he could stop, but he choose the sin. Now blaming you wasn’t so saintly nor kind, but you understood why he did that. He needed to blame someone other than himself, and you were there, open arm taking the weight for him.
Your ass slid back and forth on the wood of the table with each thrust, one of his hands was on your nipple again while the other held you behind your back. He then moved to your clit, applying pressure on it, circling it with two fingers.
You looked down only to see his cock sinking between your lips, his balls bouncing and the bush of hair that adorned his groin glistening with your juices.
You could smell the sex in the air, your mingling scents becoming one, your pleasure merging and becoming one as he shot huge spurts of cum into you.
He muttered a prayer, asking God for forgiveness, his voice exhausted, hoarse, broken by orgasm.
And then you woke up.
Your room was quiet, the crucifix that your mom gave you hanging on the wall behind your bed.
It took a few seconds for your sleepy, blurry gaze to settle on it, you were sweaty and shocked.
You closed your eyes, shutting them and cursing under your breath. 
You unrolled your body from the sheets and then stood up and picked up the crucifix. Your days as a good, God-fearing girl were over.
A/n: if you don't know what is dream and what is reality in the story at this point, that's what I wanted, I hope it's not too confusing but I wanted to try something new. I hope you liked it and thanks for your time 🩷
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lucimaaie · 1 day
Text
we pt3 ✧.* tlou
pairing - santa barbara!ellie x reader
summary - you and ellie hit the road.
a/n - this one got more angst yall, also between this and my essay my hands hurt, anyway enjoy
part 1, part 2
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the two of you had packed up relatively quickly and set out the next morning. it took a while to get used to traveling again, this time not alone and with a more productive goal than revenge.
ellie had taken it upon herself to carry most of the things you’d agreed to bring. the rifle, the backpack full of relatively good clothes you shared, and the food supply.
the first few weeks had been cruel, hiking in the snow with only a few layers of clothes. as you moved through the states, it was clear it was getting hotter and though ellie was happy for the change, she wasn’t prepared.
“i told you it was hot.” you giggled as you watched ellie dip her hands into the lukewarm water and dab it on her arms and chest. you’d be lying if you said the sight was nothing special. you watched her with attentive eyes as you sat down next to lake. “gonna share?”
ellie glared at you. “what you want me to dunk you in, because i will.” she busied herself with taking off your shows. she couldn’t help but frown when she saw how bruised your feet were. you’d need real rest soon. she rolled up your pants and moved your feet into the water. “that hurt?”
“it’s okay.”
ellie got her answer by the way your nose scrunched up at the feeling of the water surrounding your feet. it probably hadn’t been the best option, considering the water wasn’t exactly cold. “we gotta you some new shoes soon, peach.” she set your shoes the side, briefly surveying the state of hers. “could take mine until then.” she mumbled.
“they’re fine.” you said as you swung your feet in the water.
ellie sighed deeply, looking at your reflection in the water. this was risky, setting out with limited surprise without a destination in mind. she grabbed the map from the front pocket of her backpack. she unfolded the map and laid it on her lap. “think this is south enough?”
“hm,” you looked over the map, seeing where she’d marked where you were now: somewhere in colorado. “not quite south yet. unless this is good?”
“think it still gets crazy cold here in the winter.” she leaned back on her hands, looking at how focused you were. you were so dedicated to making sure she was happy. or as happy as she could be all things considered. she gently grabbed the map from your hands and tucked the folded paper into her shoes. without another word, she crouched next to you, took your foot into her hands and pressed her thumbs into the center of it.
“you don’t have to-“ you sighed breathily. “do that.”
“peach.” it was meant to come out firm, but the word was gentle. “lemme do this.” she pressed her thumbs harder, moving them in slow circles into the skin. this was good for now.
another few weeks later, ellie and you had shed the heavy jackets in the day and snuggled up under them at night. ellie had fussed over you more and more over the time, always feeding you first, giving you the first sip of water, all of it. she’d like to say it was simply because you were traveling across country into a completely different climate but that was only part of it. you were hers, officially. it was her job to do all this, to be close to you.
ellie let herself be excited, even though it was terrifying. everything was new and she could lose you at any moment, but that's not what she wanted to think about. as the night fell, she was excited about star filled sky every day. she mumbled something about stargazing but she didn't expect you to make a pallet out of your old coats and pat the spot next to you.
"we should be sleeping." she said off-handledly as if she hadn't immediately snuggled into you. she stared at you in the moonlight for a while before you pushed your her face up to the stars.
"look at them, not me." your little laugh was honey next to her ear.
"what? you're making it hard. not my fault." she wrapped her arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer. if that was even possible.
the sound of crickets (or cicadas, she couldn’t tell) filled the silence for a few minutes. ellie was calm as she breathed in the earthy scent of you. “i wish i had a book that told me the names of all these things.” she looked at the stars, enamored with them. “i kept looking for one back in jackson, but nothing.”
“jackson?” you questioned, craning your neck up to look at her.
ellie blinked as she realized she’d slipped. it wasn’t a secret she was adamant on hiding anymore, just a detail she hadn’t mentioned yet. it was her a part of her past, but one of the good parts. maybe..maybe she could tell you this. “i lived there before.” she looked down at you.
“didn’t know that.” you said, ever so curious as always. “what was it like?”
“safe.” was the first first out her mouth. it had been safe at some point, that wasn’t a lie. “almost normal. lot of people. beds, water, electricity.”
“sounds homey.” you briefly glanced at the sky as you tried to imagine something so normal. a neighborhood. the thought seemed foreign compared to your nomadic childhood.
“it was home.” she laid on her side, her forehead gently touching yours. she shivered slightly at the cool breeze that passed. her lips quirked up when you rubbed up and down her arm, thankful for your touch more than the warmth.
“do you miss it?”
“sometimes.” ellie said quietly. she wasn’t exactly into the conversation. the comfort between your touch and voice had her relaxed enough to confront her sleepiness. the fear of a nightmare wasn’t completely gone but knowing you would be there allowed her to tuck her head between yours and close her eyes.
ellie should’ve known the hours of comfort she’d experienced had to come at some price. she flinched as she heard the familiar screech of a clicker. she could barely keep the anxiety out her voice as she shook you awake. "c'mon, wake up." she said in a hushed tone.
you were slow to wake up but as soon as you heard those sounds you shot up as her. she pulled the blankets from underneath you and bunched them in her arm before swinging her backpack over her shoulder. her chest rose and fell quickly as she watched you gather the rest of your belongings and catch up with her.
her hand found yours as she kept her hand on a swivel. there was an overlap, signaling there were two maybe three, hopefully not four. she squeezed your hand as she pulled you behind her. you couldn't run but you couldn't stay here either and splitting up was never an option. "step back," she mouthed, hoping the moonlight helped you at least to understand.
you stepped back slowly, disappearing into the trees. ellie cringed as you stepped on a thin branch, the sound of it snapping bringing attention to you. a clicker nearby let out a feral roar and came rushing towards you. "run." she turned to you.
"what? no-" the sleepiness in your eyes was long gone and replaced with pure fear.
"i'm not asking, go." ellie grabbed her gun from her hip. you glanced down at her hand and looked at her incredulously. she looked at you with something more stony than she'd ever look at you. like she was getting ready to lose you.
"no, that's stupid. you can't do that, el-" you tried to pry it from her hands but she was stronger. you patted your pockets for anything that would help, but nothing. finally, you remembered a pair of scissors you'd found earlier and dug them out ellie's backpack.
ellie tried to push you off but the clicker had already arrived, drawn to your shushed argument. you stabbed it right in it's neck, wedging it through the skin for good measure. it was dying, but not fast enough. it had almost gotten one good bite in before ellie fired a quick shot right in it's face. you looked back at her meeting her panicked eyes with the same fear. there was no hesitation in taking her hand and making a run for it.
everything seemed to blur as you held onto ellie's hand like your life depended on it. you hadn't even seen her pick up anything to throw but the clinking sound against a tree gave you enough time to sneak past the hungry things. ellie held you close to her as you hid behind a crashed car as if they could see you. there was a sliver of relief as the clickers got their sights set on elsewhere. ellie's grip hadn't loosened on you as tears fell down her cheeks, the stress hitting her all at once.
"hey." you patted her arm up to her hand, squeezing as tight as you could without hurting her. "oh ellie, baby-" hearing your voice seemed to help but she was still shaken as she checked your arms for bites. her eyes were too glossy to see the look on your face but she didn't care. she cupped your face, leaning her forehead against yours as she tried to keep her breathing normal and quiet. "i thought you-" she cut herself off with a stuttered intake of breath. "i'm okay, i'm here. w-we gotta go, alright?" you brought your shaky hands up to push back her hair. she nodded, letting you guide her to hopefully some place safer for the night.
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thank you for reading!
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angelltheninth · 2 days
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im a sucker for the electro men in wuwa... might i ask for calcharo, xiangli yao, and yuanwu having their s/o ride them for the first time? <:3
You have good taste in men Anon.
Pairing: Calcharo, Xiangli Yao, Yuanwu x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, orgasm encouragement, cock riding, hair-pulling (for Reader), clit stimulation, pussy slapping, brat taming, doggie style
Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters
A/N: You can say they have a... electrifying effect on me. Ha! No? I think it's funny.
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Calcharo chuckled when he heard you hiss as you were pulled back onto his cock. "Faster. Sweet little thing, ride my cock faster. Or do you want me to give you a little more incentive?" 
Before you could say yes he pulled your hair back harder, a tight fist against your scalp, forcing you back against his cock with a loud clap. It hurt in a good way. You only had so much space to move, enough to get in inch off his cock and then take it all back in. The distance you were able to move might be tiny but the speed at which you move wasn't, encouraged by the mercenary's hand in your hair.
Letting you have control over the thrusts was a temporary luxury. He didn't move an inch, you had to do all the work here.
"Definitely motivated enough now." You met his gaze for a second before shutting your eyes in pain from the next pull. "S-Sorry. Gonna make you come, soon." You promised, pussy pulsing around him every time he was balls deep in you.
Each time he tightened his grip so did your pussy tighten around his dick. "You want it baby? Ask me properly, like the whore that we both know you are." Calcharo taunted you, making you sob with need and your poor cunt so desperate to get his cum in it.
"Come inside me." You weren't gonna say please, your inner walls could do that for you. Finally he released his grip on you only to push your head against the bed as his cock sank in balls deep to empty itself in your womb. The new position didn't stop you from grinding your ass against him to get everything you could from him.
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Xiangli Yao was almost relaxed under you as you went up and down on his hard cock. He didn't even need to do anything in order to come, or to make you come either. But he doesn't want to be lazy.
"Let me do this for you, let me make my love come on my dick." He smiled from his position below you as his fingers found your clit and pressed it in quick, tight swipes. "There's that clench. I know what you like."
His fingers worked you up so fast but you didn't want to come yet, not until he did. But your legs didn't listen to you, turning liquid as your pussy walls fluttered around him. "Hold... me." You moaned out as you leaned against his chest and kept bucking your hips despite your mind being overtaken by pleasure.
"I've got you, always got you." He kissed your shoulder slowly, one hand still between your legs.
The other hand was on your hip, going down to your ass then back up. Your hips smacked down against his wildly, feeling his cock pulsing inside you and emptying ropes of seed soon after. You didn't stop moving.
Making a mess of you both, his cum staining both your stomach, thick and sticky and warm. "Messy. I don't mind, you know I don't, not when it's the result of this."
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Yuanwu rutted into your pussy with no intention of slowing down at all. "Babygirl, what's the matter, can't you meet my thrusts?"
You grunted as you tried to do so but you also enjoyed him fucking you. You didn't expect him to halt fully when he was half-way in your cunt. "What the fuck Yuanwu?!" You complained but were met with a slap on your exposed clit.
"Ride it. Go on, ride it if you want to come." He smirked down at you as he didn't move at all, but he wiggled his eyebrows in a challange. "Brat. Didn't you fucking hear me?" He slapped your pussy again. "If this is what I need to do, punish your cunt, then I will."
Secretly you wanted just that. With your pussy already sensitive it would almost hurt. Acompamying every wet slap was your moan and your hips grinding upwards, taking his cock to his balls. Empowerimg your orgasm further was his cock curved slightly upwards and hitting your sweetspot every time.
"Open up those legs. Let me see your cunt get full!" He grunted deeply as he sunk down on his hands, letting you hug him close and ride his cock like a dildo stuck on a wall.
"Look down then, Sir." He almost didn't want to but at the same time he wanted to see the exact moment when his cock sank balls deep and be emptied.
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Hey, I really liked your Dick Grayson sfw and nsfw alphabets! When you have the time, can I request either of those for Jason Todd? Thanks 😊
Jason Todd SFW Alphabet
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Author's note: Of course! I planned on doing his anyway after finishing some of my drafts. But that's taking a little longer than I thought it would. CW:
Alphabet Under the cut!
Affection: How affectionate are they? How do they show it?
Jason isn't really affectionate, at least in open places. He's got way too many people wanting his head on a pike. Family and friends know you two are dating; however, if someone on the outside saw you two, they would have no idea. However, when you two are alone, his true colors bleed through. His personality is similar to that of a huge dog that hasn't figured out they can't be a lap dog anymore. Laying his head on your lap while you do your own things. He is reading a book, and you do one of your hobbies. Just decompressing from the day Comfortably in science and enjoying the other's presence. Will 100% fall asleep if you start playing with his hair.
Best Friend: What are they like as best friends? How would you become best friends?
Unless he needed to ask you for something, you would probably have had to make the first move toward friendship. Jason gets very lonely, but trying to meet new people on his own accord is not part of his personality. If he approached you, it would be one of two things; 1. You did something that impressed him, or 2. Dick was pestering him about meeting new people too much, and he caved to make Dick leave him alone.
Cuddles: Do they like to cuddle? How would they?
Jason hesitates to cuddle at first; it's not that he hates it, but more so, he fears it. For the most part, positive physical interaction is a foreign concept in his body. For the first few times he cuddles, he will flinch, and it doesn't matter which one of you enacted it. But once he gets to the point of cuddling, where you two can cuddle, he is relaxed? Your fate is sealed. You've created a monster! Anytime you're not busy in the apartment, it's cuddle time, and no protests are allowed. Will get pouty if you have to get up.
Domestic: Do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking and cleaning?
Jason is one of the Batfam members who would settle down in a heartbeat, even if it's just for a year or two. He craves at least some normality. But if he does, no one can protect the ones he loves, at least not well, in his opinion. Unlike his brothers, Jason is an excellent cook and even a chef with his skills. One of his favorite early memories is helping and learning to cook with Alfred. He's also very good at cleaning, partly cause his spaces are the bare-bone things to live in. However, he likes to clean his apartment or space once weekly as a coping mechanism. It's something he feels he is in complete control over. However, if you find him randomly deep-cleaning a room or his apartment. BE AFRAID; he's not okay, no matter how often he tries to tell you he is alright. For him, that is grippy sock stay levels that are not okay.
Ending: If they had to break up? How would they?
Like Dick, if you two broke up and he was the one that broke it off, it was due to him having an episode. But unlike Dick, it would be out of paranoia. Jason would make himself believe that your life will be destroyed. or you'll die because you are dating him. He would most likely ghost you and not actually break up with you. Because the words would pain him too much to say out loud. Only coming to his senses after the episode has passed, realizing his actions, and imminently finding you in person, terrified he fucked up everything between you both.
Fiance: How do they feel about commitment? How long before they pop “the question”?
Jason didn't want marriage for a long while, too terrified that it would make something go wrong. However, the longer the relationship goes on, nothing terrible happens like he expected. The more the thought of marriage would come into his mind. Asking what your thoughts on marriage are one night while cuddling.
Gentle: How gentle are they? Both physically and Emotionally? 
Jason is incredibly gentle with his partners, partly due to his personality and partly because he fears accidentally hurting you. He's a little rough around the edges emotionally, though, mostly because he's not used to being a completely open book to people.
Hugs: Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?
Jason hugs like a dad coming home after a long trip. He'll hug your waist and lift you, keeping you in his arms with the biggest smile. He'll kiss your forehead while you feel the warmth of his body around you.
I love you: How fast do they say the L-word?
Jason would be extremely slow to say the actual' I love you' wording, but he would make up for it in physical affection and words of affirmation. Holding you as close as he can while telling you how much you mean to him and how great of a partner you are to him. So, people may mistake it for love bombing, which added to his other behavior. But it's because it's so hard for him to verbally tell you he loves you. He feels he needs to say it to you in other words, so you know how much his heart bleeds for you.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? What would they do?
Jason gets super jealous; he won't control who you talk to or anything like that. He knows you have a life outside your guy's relationship, and it's not his place to manage. But he's protective of you and gets jealous when others flirt with you because, in the back of his mind, it's hard for him to believe someone would date him. So he's worried that you'll find someone more accessible to love, and you'll give up on him. Does it sound balls off the wall crazy? Yes, but mental illness is rarely something that likes to make sense.
Kissing: What are their kisses like? Where do they like to be kissed/ kiss you? 
Jason loves it when you kiss places on him that are generally done on the submissive partner, such as his knuckles, neck, forehead, etc. He finds them so comforting and feels very loved.
Little ones: How are they around kids?
Jason is great around kids unless it's his brothers. Generally speaking, though, he's very good with kids. Sometimes, he understands what's okay for a kid or not. He'll let a toddler he's watching fidget with an unloaded gun if they are very interested in it. But he'll explain to the kid in terms they understand gun safety and how you know a gun is loaded or not. Telling the kid you never treat a gun like it's a toy. It is a 100% safe choice for a kid to go to if they can't find their parent.
Morning: How are they during the mornings?
He's a morning person but a lazy morning person. He'll wake up at 5-6 and do dishes, eat, and do morning stretches, but he will not do any actual work until around noon. God forbid the poor man has a morning shift, no matter what his day job is. He'll be the grumpiest man in the world, but he hides it well from clients/ customers. Some of his coworkers get very confused of this very quick change of mood, but others just see that, and think 'Same brick wall dude, Same'.
Nights: How are they spent with them?
He is a huge Night Owl, wither that be doing the bulk of his work at Night, or having a nice cuddle session with you while having a smoke on the fire escape of the apartment. He is a very light sleeper, or deep sleep with every hour or so waking back up. He also has a lot of night terrors, so he tends to avoid sleep, ESPECIALLY if you are staying over at his place. He has a lot of 'what if i hurt you..' paranoia.
Open: When would they start revealing things about themselves?
Try to get Jason to open up, is like trying to open a can with no can opener. You may have be in a relationship with him for 5 years, and still not know everything about him. Not because he doesn't trust you not to use that against him. But because he struggles with knowing WHEN to open up about things in a relationship. He wants to make sure your twos relationship is a healthy as it can be, which every now and then dose end up causing problems. Especially when he's having a ptsd episode and you feel helpless within how to help him through it.
Patience: How easily angered are they?
He tries to be a laid back person, tries to be, is the wording there, he doesn't have a hair thin trigger, but sometimes his trauma just gets triggers by something he doesn't even see the connection to, so he's in a pissed off fight response for a bit. He does, however go to anger management therapy to try and help these behavior issues. But somethings slip through the cracks before they can be brought up in therapy. This does not stop him from bragging to his siblings, that he's the only one taking care of his mental health.
Quizzes: They remember everything or nothing about you?
It's like a scale, sometimes he remembers everything, other times he can't remember your favorite hoodie, (it's the one that's been used as a pillowcase for 3 months, because he missed holding you). He can dissociate for a long awhile, but him also bottling up his emotions plays a bigger role in this.
Remember: What is their favorite memory in the relationship?
The first time you fell asleep while cuddling with him. You both were watching cheesy 90s slashers for Halloween night, snuggled in almost a cocoon of blankets and snacks. When he turned to check on why you had been so quiet, you had falling asleep while being snuggled so far into him, that he half expected for you to fuse into his side. The amount of trust you had for him, the emotions he felt was too much and he ended up crying for the first time in years. the tears feeling like they were burning his eyes, but it's still a memory he holds closest to his heart.
Security: How protective are they? How would you protect each other?
No matter what your appearance is, wither that be tall and lanky or short n stout. Jason tends not to need a lot of physical protection, but you are most defiantly the protector of his emotional peace and social battery. Think of it like a Pitbull done with his guarding of the house for the day, so runs to their favorite human to become the biggest cuddle bug on earth. That's Jason Todd, (He's very Resurce dog coded, don't blame me, blame DC). He very much, however, is scary looking guard dog for you. He could kill someone with his death glare sometimes.
Try: How much effort would they put into dates, gifts, anniversaries, etc?
Jason puts an extreme amount of effort into your anniversaries, gifts and dates! He's not a social able person, so don't expect fancy Lucious dinner dates at a 5 star restaurant. They make him very uncomfortable, thinking everyone's eyes are on him. But he will make you the most romantic and gushy homemade dinners, your favorite flowers or candy. Cooking Red type pastas with red wine or cooking a Hispanic dish that learned while growing up around crime ally.
Ugly: What are some bad habits of theirs?
He has a bad habit of pushing you away, instead of telling you what's up. For better, or for worse. Sometimes it's because his crime lord days caught up to close to him, and for your safety he pushed you away. Or on the worse side of things, he's terrified you'll look at him as a monster or not understand where he's coming from with his trauma and his poor mental health, so he tries to keep them from you as long as possible, until he has no choice to tell you, or lose the relationship he has built with you.
Vanity: How concerned are they with their looks?
Honestly, Yes and no, like he cares about his looks more than a person would think, but like.. slightly more. He's not gonna shower every single day on the dot and shave his pubic hair into a sharp clean design. But he absolutely cares about keeping up good hygiene. Though he does have issues with cleaning his teeth, nothings rotting in there, but he is brushing his teeth waaay less than he really should be.
Whole: Would they feel incomplete without you?
No, unless you two date each other until your 4 years into retirement and you die of old age. He will be able to feel the same before you to started dating, because he feels incomplete on a regular basis. Like he isn't able to do enough, BE a enough for anyone to see him how he is as a person now.
Xtra: Random headcanon for them?
Jason use to smoke weed, especially in his teen years, regularly. But now he smokes cigs, problary Marlboro's or Lucky Strikes maybe Camels , and eats edibles every now and then to help with muscle pain and mood swings. (he still hasn't figure out if meds are worth not being able to have a beer whenever he wants.)
He knows he has PTSD, maybe C-PTSD, however he's not quite sure or not that he has BPD or a similar disorder, he's mainly just not internally ready to know the answer to that part of himself just yet. He's barely processed his feelings towards his Mother, so he's not there yet in his healing journey.
Yuck: What are some things they don’t like, in general, or in a partner?
if you have bad few of poor people or think poor people are only poor because they chose to be. Than I'm sorry, but Jason is more likely to pop a bullet in your head than he is to see you in a good light, let alone a romantic one.
Zzz: What is their sleeping habit?
Either waking up every 1 to 2 hours, or only sleeping 30mins to 3 hours and then staying up for the rest of the night or start cleaning or smoking a cig outside.
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pseudophan · 14 hours
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did you not like wad? whenever i see you mention it i detect a hint of eyeroll
i like the show itself but something about that whole time period.... idk i'm bitter about it lmao i defended dan a lot as it was going on but now that we're back in the good days i'm like god that was all SO annoying actually. i totally understand him wanting to do his own thing for awhile and i don't hold any of that against him but it was like, the way they just ended Dan And Phil on the day out of nowhere and then i'm meant to give a fuck about dan's solo projects like no fuck you you don't get to just leave with zero warning and ghost all your fans but still expect them to care about your projects. except he does technically get to do that and i did care about his projects and again like i getttt it i just think if he'd given us like idk, a month's warning maybe, at least, the whooole thing would feel different. alas he did not. so wad and dystopia daily and the book and all of that are projects i consider objectively pretty good but i can't ever wholeheartedly genuinely enjoy any of it the way i wish i could cause it just makes me really sad and kinda pissed off
none of this matters anymore though, water under the bridge, that's kinda what this entire tour is about and if they're willing to let our past transgressions go then i'm willing to let that go. also it's evident dan does feel really bad about it dhcjshxjd that's the thing about parasocial relationships like does he actually owe us anything at all? nah. but at the same time, profiting off of your audience being so emotionally attached to you does make it a bit of a dick move to suddenly just vanish into nothing and he clearly agrees with that like i'm not gonna spoil any specifics of the tour for those who haven't seen it but it's very much a message of "we forgive you for x and hope you can forgive us for y and lets all move forward into this new era without resentment" and idk i really appreciated that
but yeah as much as i'm not actually upset with dan anymore i do still get kinda bitchy about that era lmao idk if i have it in me to fully get over it. it obviously also doesn't help that it coincided with when my own life kinda stopped like there i was back in my childhood bedroom in a town i hate with no friends and no job and nothing to do and even fuckass danisnotonfire had decided he didn't want anything to do with me anymore??? like damn okay fuck my life i guess
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aghoulnamedmeliora · 2 days
Text
I'm still afraid of what's out there
This is my head canon of how I think Phantom was summoned.
This is my first piece of published work for this fandom and I'm a little nervous posting it but if I keep putting it off it'll never get posted. If I've missed any tags or content/trigger warnings please let me know and I'll add them immediately.
CW: Trauma, fighting, implied non-con but no details.
Title from Abyss by Woodz
Phantom couldn't breathe.
They had been running so much that their lungs burned with each breath they took. Bile churned in their stomach as they continued to push their body to its limits.
Still, they didn't stop. They could hear the pack of ghouls following, so close they could almost feel their breaths on the back of their neck. One slip could mean the end.
Turning a corner, Phantom slammed into a wall. They spun around to try and find a different way to escape, but their exit had been blocked.
“Fucking finally. I do like a good hunt but it gets annoying when the prey doesn't know when to stop.” One of them growled, a large fire ghoul who Phantom recognised to be the leader of the pack.
“What do you expect? For me to just sit there and let you rip me to shreds?” Phantom bit back. They knew it was a mistake. They were outnumbered and weak both from the chase and from lack of food, but it was the only way they knew to try and find an escape route.
The largest ghoul, an earth ghoul, lunged forwards holding Phantom against the wall by their throat.
“We were gonna make it easy on you. A quick slash to the throat to kill you before we had our fun. But now I’m making sure you’re conscious for every second.” The fire ghoul growled again.
The hand around their throat tightened and dragged them down to the ground between the wall and the pack. They clawed at the arm holding them down, nails digging in and drawing blood.
One ghoul grabbed their arms and pulled them above their head out of the way. Another grabbed their legs to prevent them from kicking at everyone. The fire ghoul approached, fangs glinting sharply as Phantom struggled against the hands holding them down but they couldn't get far.
The pack leader knelt over them, trapping their body between their strong legs before surging forwards and biting their neck to paralyse them.
Phantom screamed, the pain overwhelming. The other ghouls laughed clearly enjoying the torture they were putting the small quint through.
Before anything else could happen, a bright white light appeared, floating down towards the pile of ghouls.
Confused, the arms holding Phantom relaxed slightly. The pack leader barked out some commands and the arms completely disappeared allowing the white light to lower towards Phantom instead.
The white light expanded, swallowing them whole, but Phantom didn't flinch. They didn't care what happened now, only hoping that whatever it was, it would take them somewhere safer.
They closed their eyes and waited. For what they didn't know, but they waited.
After what felt like an eternity, the light vanished and they were plunged into darkness. Their hearing returned first, voices startling them from their trance.
“They're so small.” One whispered.
“Are they okay? There’s so many scars.” Another gasped, shock lacing their voice.
Phantom wished they could cover their ears, the noise suddenly the loudest thing they had ever heard.
“Can you open your eyes, little one?” A softer voice spoke to them with a thick accent, one that Phantom didn't recognise. They slowly opened their eyes, blinking, trying to adjust to the dim lighting.
Upon seeing their eyes, more gasps and whispers echoed around the room grating on their ears.
“Aether, could you come here please? I don't think they can move.” The same soft voice called out. Phantom heard shuffling before a large figure appeared in their peripherals.
They felt the familiar crackle of quintessence flowing through them. Their panic spiked, knowing first hand what it can do to someone.
“Shh, it’s okay. He’s only trying to help.” Someone was rubbing soothing patterns on their shoulder in an effort to try to calm them down. Phantom never heard them approach and that scared them more.
Eventually, they started to feel their body again, the pain retreating slowly.
Finally having movement again, they shot up, claws out ready to protect themself from the much larger ghouls they found scattered throughout the room. Some jumped while others stayed calm, trying to show Phantom that they’re not a threat.
The ghoul the human called Aether, stepped forwards, quintessence at the ready to de-escalate the situation.
“It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you. You’ve clearly been through a lot and are rightfully on edge. You’re safe here though.” His voice stayed calm and steady, trying to stop Phantom from freaking out more.
“Why should I trust you? All ghoul packs are the same. They say they want to help only to dispose of me once they’ve had their fun.” Phantom was angry and upset. They were grateful to be away from the situation in the Pit, but they didn't know the intentions of the ghouls in front of them.
The short ghoul next to the human growled angrily. “We summon you and quite clearly save you from a painful situation and this is how you repay us. Such an ungrateful brat. We should send you back. Why would we want you here with that type of attitude?”
“Dew, stop it. It’s not gonna help them feel safe.” Aether spoke again.
The ghoulette who tried to comfort Phantom moved forwards, deciding to take a different approach.
“I’m Cirrus. What’s your name? Maybe knowing who we are first might help.”
Phantom looked at her, deciding whether to answer or not. She could see the war in their head. Answer and take refuge or keep fighting and be alone. The decision should have been a harder one to make.
“Phantom.”
Aether’s gaze flicked over to Cirrus’ at their response, surprise written on his face. She shrugged, happy that she was getting through to the small ghoul.
“Well, hi Phantom. I’m glad we were able to save you from whatever you were stuck in. The ghoul who helped you is Aether, he’s a quintessence ghoul, although I’m sure you were able to figure that out without me telling you.” She huffed out a laugh before continuing, “The small one with an attitude problem is Dewdrop.”
Dew guffawed, annoyed at Cirrus’ description of him.
“The giant is Mountain and the slightly less tall one is Swiss.” Mountain waved politely while Swiss grinned, trying not to show too many teeth.
Cirrus pointed over to a small group of ghouls gathered together, “Over there is Rain, Cumulus, Sunshine and Aurora. Aurora is the other new summon.” The smallest ghoulette tried to wave the best she could while being practically smothered by Sunshine, the taller ghoulette waving enthusiastically.
“And finally is Copia, the human. We all call him papa. He’s our leader and protector.” The human in mention smiled shyly, still not used to being the centre of attention.
Phantom’s head was spinning, all the information hard to take in. They felt trapped, like a wild animal stuck in a cage for people’s entertainment. They needed to get away from everything, hide until their brain could catch up with what happened.
Cirrus started moving, a lavender blanket draped over her arm. She froze when they snarled, crooked fangs on show. They could faintly hear Dew make a snarky comment, but their brain couldn't process anything other than the blinding fear still coursing through their veins.
“Phantom, I’m only trying to help.” She glanced behind them, making eye contact with Aether. He moved, keeping his footsteps light.
Once in reach, he grabbed Phantom’s shoulder and let his quinessence flow through.
They growled and used their own quinessence to try and fight him off. Aether was stronger, well versed in his powers and easily overpowering the little quint.
They felt their legs grow weak, struggling to hold them up. Still, they fought. They turned around, slashing out with their claws. Aether hissed when they caught his arm, claws digging deep into his flesh.
The ghouls around them moved to hold the small ghoul, stop them from hurting anyone else, but Cirrus was quicker. She rushed forwards and wrapped the blanket around them tightly, holding them in a hug that immobilised them.
She expected them to fight it, to claw their way out of her grip. Instead, they went limp, tears pooling in their eyes, threatening to fall.
Hearing the quiet sobs, she relaxed her grip, cooing softly in an attempt to soothe them.
“What’s the matter? I hope we didn't scare you too much” Phantom shook. They didn't know why they were crying but they had never been held with so much love, especially from someone after trying to fight them.
Everyone went silent, unsure how to react. Even Aether, who was currently working on stopping the bleeding.
After a few minutes of just being held, Phantom stopped crying. They used the blanket to wipe their eyes, blinking up at Cirrus who continued to hold them.
Copia was the first to break the silence. “I’m sure this has been tiring for you ghouls both physically and emotionally. We should make our way back and get some rest.”
While the others made motion to leave, Phantom stayed where they were. Cirrus noticed this and pulled them closer. She held them until they calmed down completely.
“Are you ready to leave, Shadow?” She kept her voice soft, trying not to set them off again. They nodded, the motion barely noticeable if they weren't pressed tightly against her.
She stood first, holding her arms out to help them up.
Guiding them towards the doors, they froze again, taking a deep breath. This was it. Once they went through those doors, they were going to start a new life. One where they weren’t running away constantly. One where they had a pack of their own, who treated them like an equal.
They braced themself as Cirrus opened the door, the sunlight warming their skin. She looked at them once again, waiting to see if they were ready. Phantom nodded, more strongly this time.
“I’m ready.”
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nqueso-emergency · 7 hours
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For what it's worth, I don't think all the Eeyore BT anons are necessarily BoBs in disguise.
I do think there are BT fans who either came from the Buddie fandom or stuck around 9-1-1 fandom as the BoBs kept pushing to dominate all corners. Even if your opinion didn't involve Buck, Eddie or Buddie, it was hard to avoid them aiming to leave their stamp everywhere. And if it did involve Buck, Eddie or Buddie? Good luck.
So many people got sucked into the Buddie Delulu Takes without even realizing they were a victim of it and are stuck believing in their inevitability.
And people calling out the issue with that fandom slowly left fandom when it got them nowhere. Earlier this week, there was a post on the main 9-1-1 Reddit about the uptick in homophobic takes in 9-1-1 fandom. Of course, Buddie fans took over that thread and somehow painted themselves as the victims of homophobia. Hilariously, a poster even linked back to an old "I can't stand Buddie shippers" post as an example of their 'persecution' with zero self-awareness of how linking that post showed how long they've been seen as a problem.
https://www.reddit.com/r/911FOX/comments/niqjtk/i_cant_stand_buddie_shippers/
So no, bad fandom didn't start "since Tommy."
To all the legit Eeyore BT fans out there: Ignore Buddie takes. I'm too much of a hedger to say never but they were always a longshot. Don't look at the show to shut them down because that's not their job. They've outright told them to enjoy fan theories without expecting it on screen and they're ignored. If fans aren't going to listen to reason, the answer isn't to try to make them. It's to ignore them, basically write whatever the hell they want and let the chips fall where they may. It's not up to TPTB to cater to their feelings and rid them of their fantasies.
This!! Thank you!
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aziraphales-library · 6 hours
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Hello! Thank you so much for all your hard work I've found so many great fics here! I have a recommendation/request. I recently read the WIP, Play for me the Music of your Heart (https://archiveofourown.org/works/40016034) by Leviosally468 which is fabulous. Do you know of other fics where one or both of them are classical musicians/conductors? I looked through the famouscrowley and famousaziraphale tags but didn't find anything. Thanks so much!!
Hi! Here are some fics in which one or both of them are involved with classical music (and one jazz, because it's really good)...
Opera Cakes and Second Takes by ThatWriterKid (T)
One week. Four pairs of students. The goal: write an opera and perform it in six days. Professors Ezra Fell and Anthony Crowley weren’t expecting to write an opera in a week, but tenure is rare and life throws you curveballs.
The Underlying Melody by Tossukka (E)
Crowley is the keyboardist and the main songwriter in a world-famous rock band, the Burning Rejects. When the band is asked to perform with a classical violinist in a charity concert, Crowley isn’t thrilled but tentatively agrees to do it for a good cause. Aziraphale, who performs under the stage name A.Z. Fell isn't any more excited to play his violin with a rock band but accepts the proposition for similar reasons. When Crowley and Aziraphale meet, they expect to have nothing in common. However, their working relationship quickly turns into close friendship and mutual attraction. Between rehearsals for the concert, they share lunches, enjoy nights of drunken conversations, and manage to have and resolve some artistic differences. When the performance approaches, both know their collaboration will soon be over, taking away their excuses for spending so much time together, but neither of them is quite ready yet to let each other go.
I Attempt from Love's Sickness to Fly (in Vain) by wyrmy (E)
“Goodness me,” said Aziraphale breathlessly, “this isn’t what one is supposed to do in a practice room.” Crowley, a vocal student at University, is assigned to collaborate with a student accompanist, Aziraphale, who has some very strange and dark secrets.
Love, Syncopation, and Other Key Elements of Jazz by feathereddino (T)
The jazz duo of A.J. and Fell are an unstoppable force well into their mid-twenties, but when Crowley's illness causes the pair to step back from the spotlight, an enterprising music manager scoops up Aziraphale's career. Dazzled, Aziraphale will abandon all of his former life to be Gabriel's perfect star but lose himself and his happiness along the way. It would take a very steady and forgiving heart for someone to love him through it all...
Intermezzo by FeralTuxedo (E)
Music critic Aziraphale Fell is trying to break into the world of television, when he is signed to make a documentary about former-rockstar-turned-composer Anthony Crowley. It’s been eleven years since Aziraphale’s disastrous review of Crowley’s debut opera nipped his classical music career in the bud. He can only hope that Crowley will get over his admittedly justified grudge to make the TV show a success. A classical music sex comedy. Yes, really.
Of Harpsichord and Falsetto by saretton (E)
"And that was the magic of it all: Aziraphale was at such a level in his mastery that he could tidy up all that apparent chaos. He made it seem so easy, so effortless, even though Crowley knew that, behind that polished façade, there were years of study, practice and daily sacrifices. In the days when they both attended the music school, Crowley used to sit outside the rehearsal classroom to listen to Albert as he practiced playing the piano almost every afternoon. Sometimes Crowley would even ditch other classes to do that." ----- A Good Omens Musicians AU.
And the one you mentioned...
Play for me the Music of your Heart by Leviosally468 (E) (WIP)
Anthony J. Crowley, a talented virtuoso violinist finally makes the move west to Nightingale Bay, Oregon after escaping a simultaneously promising yet toxic life at Elysian Conservatory of Music in New York City. Aziraphale Z. Fell is Eastern Gate University’s friendly and talented piano professor and symphony conductor. Let's see how that goes, shall we?
- Mod D
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st-el-la-luna · 1 day
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El's COD Kinktober 2024
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I figured this would be a good way to keep my blog alive. Expect short pieces, and missed days. But I will do my best
NSFW Minors DNI
1. Somnophilia: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
Soap wakes up to you moaning in your sleep. He helps you make your dreams a reality.
2. Sensory Deprivation/Blindfolds: John Price x Reader
Somehow it's better when you don't know it's coming
3. Double Penetration: Alejandro Vargas and Rodolfo Parra x Reader
Your Colonel and Sergeant comfort you the day after a bad date
4. Lingerie: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
You want to surprise Ghost for his birthday. Things go wrong, in perhaps the best way.
5. Mommy Kink: Philip Graves x Reader
After a particularly long mission and several bad months at the company, Graves' spirits are low. He needs someone to take care of him, to tell him he's good
6. Threesome: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick and König x Reader
KorTac has been working alongside Task Force 141 for a while now. Kyle has always had his eye on you, but it becomes clear that the Austrian giant feels the same. Tensions rise between the two until they decide to prove which of them is best once and for all
7. Restraints: Kim "Horangi" Hon-jin x Reader
Horangi is in debt to you and your going to teach him a lesson: either he pays you back monetarily or...
8. Body Worship: Alex Keller x Reader 
Alex thinks every inch of your body is perfect. And he won't stop telling you until he's sure you believe it too.
9. Face Sitting: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader
Gaz overhears you telling Soap you've never enjoyed receiving oral. He decides to change that
10. Exhibitionism: Nikolai x Reader
Nik likes to show you off whenever he can. The Task Force has been eyeing you too much as of late. He reminds them who you belong to.
11. Thigh Fucking: König x Reader
König is just too big
12. Breeding: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Mid-fuck, Ghost let's slip that he wants to be a mommy.
13. Overstimulation: Rodolfo Parra x Reader
After everything that happened with the Shadow Company, you're just glad to have him back. Your relief at his wellbeing quickly becomes more and, well, you have a lot of stress to work off. But he can take it.
14. Free Use: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader 
You and Kyle have an agreement. Whatever either of you want to do, whenever you want to do it. You both enjoy your agreement.
15. Blood Kink: Nikto x Reader
Nikto comes to your door, desperate. You tell him you can't, you're on your period. Blood has never bothered him before, why would it now?
16. Dry Humping: John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader 
You can't, it's a sin... Luckily even God leaves loopholes.
17. Uniform Kink: Philip Graves x Reader
He can't get enough of the way you look, all dressed up for this event. And you can't get enough of him in his dress uniform.
18. Cockwarming: Alejandro Vargas x Reader 
There's nothing Alejandro likes more than coming home to you. And to his second home, between your legs.
19. Pegging: Alex Keller x Reader
One of his friends bought it as a gag gift. You laughed. Alex didn't.
20. Oral Fixation: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader
Gaz notices how you've always got something in your mouth; a pencil, gum, a lollipop. He can tell it calms you. At a formal event, he senses your stress and gives you something to help ground yourself.
21. Corruption Kink/Loss of Virginity: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Reader
After months of dating and never doing more than make out, you ask Soap when you're going to, well, do it. His answer surprises you, and you learn something about yourself that's even more surprising.
22. Spit: König x Reader 
In the heat of an argument you spit at your Colonel's feet.
23. Choking: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
An accidental training misshap leaves Ghost reeling, you help pull him in.
24. Werewolf: Keegan P Russ x Reader
Little Red Riding Hood, you should know better than to wander the woods at night alone. Especially tonight.
25. Spanking: John Price x Reader
John decides to get you back for slapping his ass in front of his men.
26. Predator/Prey: Valeria Garza x Reader
You and Valeria play a game of hide and seek with a twist...
27. Praise: John Price x Reader
Joyn worries he isn't good enough, that he's gone too often. That he's a bad person. You assure him none of its true.
28. Boot Worship: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
You show Simon your new boots. He reacts unexpectedly.
29. Hair Pulling: John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader
You accidentally grab his hair during a spar. He moans like a whore.
30. Cumplay: Poly!141 x Reader
Soap had an idea for a fun game. You're just surprised he was able to rope the others into it too.
31. Wild Card
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[Dean Winchester] - Bruises
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♫ - Lucky Stars - Lucy Spraggan
This was a request for @jayblove1994, I hope you enjoy! <3
Loving a demon hunter wasn't easy. Loving a hunter was not what you expected in your future. But, you most certainly were not complaining.
Dean Winchester was a hell of a man. Often times, he was straightforward, honest and headstrong. Whether that was a good thing all the time or not, you didn't know. What you did know, was that he could also be soft, kind and caring. The Dean you saw behind closed doors was not the hunter, it was just a boy. Over the time you had gotten to know him, Dean had opened up more than you thought he ever would, and you learned things that made you understand the way he was every day.
Your relationship had, for the most part, been quite normal. Sure, you'd been kidnapped by Crowley once or twice, but that's what you get, dating a Winchester. But, when the King of Hell wasn't being a menace in your local area, you found dating Dean was one of the most calm and natural things you had ever done. Loving him was easy, and being loved by him was the best feeling. 
Dean's love language has always been touch. Physicality was always the way he showed love; hugs, kisses, falling asleep together. You name it, Dean did it. You were never short of love from him. In turn, you always helped him after a hunt, usually when a demon had given him a good fight. Tonight was another one of those nights. 
It was about 9pm, and you were just wandering around your apartment, tidying up a few things before planning to settle on the couch with a good book and some hot chocolate. There was a knock, the same knock that only one man did to let you know it was definitely him. Standing, you opened the door, and there was your boyfriend, bloody and bruised. 
"Dean!" you exclaimed, partly shocked at the state of his face and partly happiness. "Come in, babe, what on Earth happened to you?"
He shook his head and smirked a little, eyes staring into yours. 
"The same thing that always happens, sweetheart."
That gruff, sarcastic voice always tried to make the best of every situation. You chuckled, and brought him to the couch. Fetching a glass of water for him, and some washcloths, you began to clean him up whilst you sat.
Dean still, after all this time, wasn't used to someone helping him in times like this. Not that anyone hadn't ever offered, Sam and Cas most certainly had, but he never took the help. With you, Dean knew he didn't have a choice. You were always there to fix him, in more ways than just this. He wasn't against it, and he didn't think he deserved it most of the time, but it never stopped you and your love was something Dean wouldn't give it up for the world.
As you sat, your legs touched and Dean's hand sat on your thigh, thumb stroking up and down against the fabric of your pyjamas. Every now and then, you'd catch each other's eyes and smile. From previous experience, you knew Dean wasn't too talkative in these moments, and you respected that. Each time you cleaned up a section of his face, you gave him a quick kiss on the area. Slowly but surely, you had patched him up everywhere. 
"There we go,back to normal," you said, then shrugged. "Well, you know, as normal as a hunter can get, at least."
"So, not at all then, hey?" He chuckled, then held his ribs.
"Everything alright, Dean?" you asked,and he lifted his shirt to reveal his bruised rib cage. Your eyes widened. "Dean!"
"Well I figured you can't exactly fix this with water, can you?"
You just shook your head. "You're way too stubborn, Winchester."
"Ahh, you love me anyway, Y/N."
"I do, now get your kit off and change into something less blood-stained." 
He stripped down and fetched a pair of lounge pants from his drawer. Dean came round to your apartment so often you bought a specific set of drawers just for him, growing tired of having no space for your own clothes. You weren't complaining though, there was always something of his for you to wear. 
"Better?"
You spun round to see your boyfriend in just his pants, without his shirt on. You cocked your eyebrow, and smirked.
"Not that I'm complaining, believe me I'm not, but where's your shirt?"
"Nuh-uh," he started, taking your hand and leading you over to the sofa again. "You never mentioned a shirt, just something 'less bloody', and I believe I have fulfilled that request."
"I hate when you're right, Dean."
Dean winked at you and pulled you over to him, so you were straddling his lap. He looked at you, eyes sparkling and smile present. When he smiled like that, his whole faced lit up. But, you knew it was mostly put on, as these situations drained him, and though eh wouldn't admit to it, they scared him. The atmosphere got a bit more serious now you two were seated again.
Dean's hands rested on your hips, and one travelled up to the back of your head, running through your hair as he went. Pulling you forward, you rested your forehead against his. His hand came forward, tracing your jaw and running his thumb along your lips before he spoke.
"Thank you."
Dean's voice was a low whisper, his eyes closed as he just being in the moment. He got very emotional after hunts, and you guessed it was the comedown of adrenaline, or the thankfulness he felt that he could come home. Sometimes, it wasn't too bad, and the risk was low, but he got especially in his feelings after a risky run. Such as now, where he held you and you stroked his hair. Dean listened to your heartbeat, calming himself fully by counting the beats.
"I've always got you," you whispered into his ear, kissing the top of his head. "You don't have to thank me. I'll always be here. No matter what, or however bad it feels, I'm here to fix it. Never forget that. I love you, baby."
A hoarse reply came from the man in your arms.
"I love you too."
Dean looked up, and you could think he was close to crying. He looked tired, very tired. You smiled down, and brought your lips to his. The kiss started soft, your hands on either side of his face and his hands on your waist. He pulled you both down, so you were lying side by side on the sofa, facing each other. The kiss broke, and Dean was looking down at you, fingers tracing up and down your side lazily.
"I got very lucky to have you, sweetheart. I'm sorry things get dangerous, but know that I'll protect you, okay? I'll fight hell twice over for you."
You cuddled into him, and his strong arms enveloped you in a safe warmth you only got with him. You had forgotten all about your hot chocolate and book, but that could wait. For now, you were cherishing the soft moments with your boyfriend, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
Thanks for reading! <3
If you enjoy my content, you can buy me a coffee here :)
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cherry and marcia hcs because I love them so dearly.
they met when they were 6 at a park. cherry was sitting alone on a bench and marcia being afraid of nothing just sat down and started yapping.
Marcia used to be afraid of nothing except for storms. whenever there was a storm she would curl up in the corner of her room and cry.
her parents weren't around much, both working to hard to keep the life they had built so her house was often empty.
cherry having a not so good home environment would spend days upon days at marcias and they would just hang out.
cherry was the quiet popular girl who did her work but when she was at marcias house they would talk the most shit and about drama going around the school.
cherry is really good at doing other people's hair, and it's something she quite enjoys doing. someday, when things get too stressful, Marcia will let Cherry just mess with her hair as they sit in silence or talk about what's bothering her.
Marcia used to roller skate a lot when she was younger but stopped when she reached highschool and started to worry more about her staus.
cherry lowkey hates oranges. she hates anything to do with them while marcia LOVES them.
on the days where they were practicing for rodeos they find a way to fuck with eachother.
they had a game where they had gotten this small little figure and have made it a game to place it somewhere on eachother and whoever has it has to try to get it to the other person without them noticing. the last time they played marcia got it to cherry(I'm gonna come back to this later)
once they reached high school, Cherry had met Bob in her math class. at first they didn't really talk but after being paired together during class they sort of just hit it off.
Marcia and Bob? did NOT hit it off. they started unsure of each other and then turned to them, not liking each other.
there was one day where bob and marcia had ended up alone waiting for the rest of there friends and marcia got to see the true version of bob Sheldon that had been pushed down deep.
he had started talking about the stars, going into detail about the ones he knew and how important they were to him. no matter what changed in his life or the little amount of actual love he got from his family they stayed a constant. a reminder that there were nice things that even he could see.
Marcia before would have never expected it from someone like him but it made her look at him with a different light. only for a little while because that was the only time she had ever seen that side of him. after that he went back to the bob Sheldon she had known. the bob Sheldon who hated her just as much as she hated him.
Marcia was considered a weird girl who was simply friends with Cherry Valance. that didn't bother her much up until that point.
Marcia hated how Bob treated Cherry like some sort of trophy. Cherry had always told her that he wasn't like that and that he was real kind and she didn't need to worry.
the weeks when Cherry would spend hours at Marcias turned into just a few days, focusing her time on Bob which didn't hurt Marcia.
she understood that a d she respected it. she spent most of her time with bev, brill, and trip. she learned a lot with them and learned that something were better kept hidden than out.
her parents had very different ways of thinking. her father grew up with a single father who didn't have much taught her to fit in and roam with the crowd because that's how you got successful while her mother grew up with a rich family who was cold and uncaring. she taught marcia to stick up for herself and to trust those who are her true friends.
Marcia often battled between what her parents wanted her to be. she wants to make her father proud, but she doesn't want to disappoint her mother, who always taught her to be kind and true to herself.
reaching highschool she learned real quick between the difference of social class and how she needed to fit in if she wanted to make it to graduation.
Bev had told her that she needed to stop "acting so weird, you'll never get someone if you act like that," and marcia had laughed in her face then. Bev, that day, wasn't too happy with her, nearly cost her the spot she had within the small group. she learned that day to take most things with a smile and that things would be easier if she just kept others happy.
Cherry had been spending time with Bob, the nights where they both just needed to escape from their lives, the would drive Bob's car out to a reserved place and just look at the stars.
the first time Bob got real drunk she had freaked the fuck out because she would not be with someone who ended up like her father.
he the next day had showed up at her house with flowers and with an apology. she practically melted into his arms after she explained to him why she had freaked. he had promised that it wouldn't happen again, though he never kept that promise, leading to her snapping at the nightly double.
Cherry post cannon distanced herself from all the socs for the most part. she only really stayed connected to chet and somewhat marcia.
the two grew apart for a little bit as Marcia battled with the pressure of her parents and with the ideas of social class.
one night marcia just completing broke down in front of her parents. they talked for hours after that, working through their problems and how she had been feeling. her parents had always loved her, she knew that but her father rarely showed any emotion and her mother too busy fighting with her own family to realize how her own family was falling apart.
the next day Marcia asked Cherry to talk and they did. Marcia apologized from practically everything that had happened andthey both made a promise to be better, to talk things out no matter how they felt.
that's all I have rn but please feel free to add in the comments or in my inbox 🙏 also trust I'm just feeding yall until I finish this fic.
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icycoldninja · 1 day
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Hi Ninja I hope you're doing well!
I want to make an NSFW request involving the DMC Boys + V with a shy reader bUTTT The reader is a praiser during the Devil's tango
Like they(Reader) just feels fuzzy from all the seggz where the reader accidentally slips out a "You're doing good"/"Good boy"/"You feel so nice in me" during the tango
Mainly praises, and the boys go "OH?" *seggz intensifies* (you can go all out on this one, Ninja!) LOL ANYWAY--
Cuz like, they didn't expect this from the reader, I guess? And they (depending which of the dmc boys we r talking about) may have gotten caught off guard from that because they were expecting the reader to just be shy during *it* as well.
Please take your time! I really love your stories and headcannons! (I hope nobody has made this request before. If so, Im sorry! You can ignore this!!)
No one has made a request like this before. (unless I forgot and if i did my apologies) thank you and enjoy!
Sparda boys + V x Shy!Praiser!Reader NSFW headcannons
¤ Dante ¤
-Dante is used to you being quite quiet during sex, hardly ever uttering coherent words, (though that might be because of him) so when you started praising him, it was a pleasant surprise.
-You were just feeling so good with Dante's thick, throbbing cock deep inside you, you couldn't help but whimper out a few words of praise towards him.
-"Danteee~, you feel so, so good inside me..."
-In response to your words, Dante Triggered. You felt a sudden surge of warmth, followed by a hot, hard thing pressing against your cervix. Dante's fiery demon dice was warming and mashing up your insides--God, did it feel amazing.
-You came so many times, you even lost consciousness for a few moments.
-Dante kept on going though, all because he wanted to hear you praise him more.
■ Vergil ■
-Vergil is pretty used to you being shy all the time, so naturally, he expected you to act the same way during sex.
-And you kinda were, key word: "kinda".
-At some point, you decided to stop squealing in pleasure and instead praise your boy a little, not realizing what you said until you'd said it.
-"You're doing so good--feels so good--ahh~..."
-Vergil's first thought was, pfft, like you need to tell me that. His second thought was, well, since you enjoy it so much, why don't I up the ante?
-And that is the story of how your organs got absolutely destroyed, your cervix pulverized, and your pelvic area in general obliterated because Vergil Triggered inside you and wouldn't stop pounding until he passed out. You walked with a cane for 2 weeks.
□ Nero □
-Nero doesn't really mind that you're so shy, he thinks it's cute.
-What's even cuter is how you whimper and hide your face while he's rutting into you.
-When you randomly burst out with a bit of praise, Nero was 1% surprised, 99% more turned on.
-"Neeerooo--you're amazing! Aah~! Amazing!"
-Of course, the only gentlemanly thing to do in this situation was to fuck you even harder than he was before, putting all hid energy into his hips to the point that he actually zoned out and lost awareness of his surroundings.
-You definitely woke your neighbors up with how loud you were being; thankfully no one filed any complaints.
● V ●
-V cannot help but chuckle a little at how adorably shy you are.
-Not like he has much room to talk--he hardly talks at all.
-Hearing you praise him was a welcome surprise, though. There was something about the way you whined his single letter long name that just sent fire coursing through him.
-"Good boy! V...you're such a good--good boy!"
-V wants more praise. He craves more praise. He finds his fingers traveling down to your clit, rubbing circles into it faster than you've ever felt before.
-Before you know it, your back is arched, your eyes are rolling back, your tongue lolls out, and you have the most intense orgasm of your life--the first of several that you will have to endure tonight.
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hms-no-fun · 5 hours
Note
i have an intense love/hate with godfeels because it is beautifully written but it also makes me viscerally uncomfortable. something something disturbs the comfortable and comforts the disturbed probably. engaging with that discomfort teaches me more about myself and is definitely worth it for something like godfeels. any advice for constructively engaging with media that Pisses You Off, by no fault of the creator? what would you say to your haters in good-faith, if you could?
well, to be fair i have said plenty to my haters in good faith previously, but that was a very direct response. if you and i were having a polite conversation amongst the two of us, my first question would be "how far did you get?" godfeels has been going for six years now (!!!), and it's gone through many phases in that time. i'm at a point now in my life where if someone tells me gf2 didn't click with them, i'll probably nod and say "yeah it's rough around the edges, there's a lot of stuff i'd do differently today." the most vocal contingent of haters i've ever gotten were the handful of people who dipped at gf2.2 when june got superdrunk and accidentally murdered a bunch of people, assuming the story was going to be about how cool and based that decision was. anyone who's actually read gf2 to completion should find that misconception laughable. it also makes a difference if you finished gf2 and stopped there, or started 3.1 and fell off, or if you got through chapter 8 and fell off, or if you're currently reading Double Album. each of those is a slightly different conversation with its own pros and cons. whether or not i'd try to talk someone into continuing their read depends entirely on those questions (and also how self-confident i'm feeling in the moment).
i guess i would say to someone who is not enjoying godfeels that they should stop reading godfeels. it's an extremely heavy story that digs into a wide variety of traumatic subject matter. it is also deeply personal in a lot of ways, which is perhaps a weird fit for a Homestuck fanfiction. so i can understand someone from the wider fandom hearing about godfeels as "the June Egbert fic" being disappointed that it's not fluff. i've documented in the past how gf2 emerged out of my dissatisfaction with the image of "Hairclips June," whose transition exists off screen and whose acceptance by her friends is an obvious expectation. i kind of feel bad for how that shook out in the long term since, between the lengthy hiatus of hs2 and the broader strangulation of the post-canon movement during the pandemic, the canonical "Hairclips June" story (or at least "June Who Doesn't Suffer 100% Consequences" story) doesn't seem to exist. i don't mean literally canonical, i mean "seeped into the fandom's collective unconscious" canonical, like Detective Pony. there are plenty of fanworks that do a good or at least interesting job with June, but they're not *about* June in quite the same way godfeels is. it's entirely possible that such a thing DOES exist and IS popular (i freely admit to being out of touch with modern fanworks), but for better or worse godfeels still seems to be the thing that comes up most often-- and not always in a positive light.
for a while now i've been working on an "Author's Introduction" which on the surface is an attempt to contextualize the phases of godfeels for new readers, but in actuality is more of a history of/commentary on the post-2019 fandom and the so-called "Homestuck Renaissance." i see this as necessary because godfeels is an extension of that moment, in particular the loudly recuperative pro-Vriska boosters and their exquisitely galaxy-brained VrisRezi meta. then gf3.1 responded to the fandom backlash, chapter 8 responded to my experience watching every foundation of my post-transition life crumble during the pandemic, and then Double Album is an exploration of building yourself and community back up in the aftermath of tragedy.
it's not that this context is necessary to understand or appreciate godfeels, just that i think it helps put things in perspective. when i started gf1, i hadn't written fiction in nearly 7 years. today, the series is sitting just shy of the 500,000 word mark. at every step of the process, the quality and ambition of my writing has increased exponentially. there's a reason i've written Double Album as a jumping-on point for new readers-- besides being better in virtually every way that matters to me, it's also largely shorn free of the baggage that can make godfeels a hard sell for folks. whether or not it actually SUCCEEDS as a jumping on point is another conversation entirely.
so i guess all of that is to say, if we were having a private conversation just the two of us, i freely admit that godfeels is a wildly disjointed story on top of being extreme and often emotionally masochistic. i am proud of this work from start to finish, but it fundamentally is the process of its authorship in a way that a thoroughly drafted and edited novel simply isn't. i used to publish chapters the instant they felt done to me, with only minimal revisions. these days i let chapters bake a lot longer and put much more thought into how they fit into the larger whole. i kinda miss the old way but the new way results in much better work.
i'd be curious to hear what exactly it is that Pisses You Off about godfeels, and why you nevertheless feel it's a worthwhile reading experience. you ask me for advice on how to constructively engage with media that pisses you off, but i don't have any because in general i don't engage with media that pisses me off. i stopped reading fanworks after 2020 because everything that survived seemed to cater only to the sector of the fandom that harassed my friends out of their jobs and platforms. i found their interpretations/extensions of canon lacking, their tendency for straightforward fluff rather grating. i COULD have made that everyone else's problem, but what would be the point? i wasn't the target audience. i didn't enjoy the work, so i stopped reading it. i'd rather move on to media i enjoy than suffer through media i don't.
BUT. there's a fine line here, because it actually takes a lot to Piss Me Off. i don't really believe in rules or standards in art as Inviolable Laws Of Nature. my measure of whether something is good has a lot less to do with its inherent quality and a lot more to do with the balance between intention and execution. it rarely matters how amateur something is, if it meaningfully accomplishes the thing it set out to do then i'll probably like it (or at least respect it). i look for expressions of authenticity, moments where the artist and the medium are in perfect sync. there are plenty of critically praised pretty-looking movies and games with big production values that i don't particularly like. sometimes that's because they're a naked moneymaking enterprise disguised as art. sometimes it's a problem of too many cooks in the kitchen. and then sometimes an artist is just full of shit and doesn't really know what the hell they're talking about (i like to call these people "Californians"). mostly, i just embrace that art-making and art-viewing are inherently subjective experiences, and i find little value in numbered rating systems of any kind.
a lot of my favorite movies and albums underwhelmed me my first time through. they challenged me in a way that i at first interpreted as incompetence, but have come to see as brilliance. there's stuff i found alienating in high school and early 20s that i find deeply relatable in my 30s. as a film student i've had so many conversations with so many people who have wildly different takes on the same movie that i've completely given up on the idea that anyone is an objective arbiter of what's good and what isn't. the only real thing is if it works and if it works for you. i search for the best in everything, because at the end of the day i'm just here for the love of the game and i don't much enjoy hating things. for media to really Piss Me Off, to elicit a genuine I Hate You response, it has to be more than just, like, poorly edited or whatever. it has to embody a repulsive worldview, be a tool of jingoistic propaganda, or otherwise act as an extension of corporate greed and wealth extraction. these days i reserve my hatred for that which has connection to real Power and exerts a mass cultural Influence, or that otherwise blindly reproduces the same problems.
i think it's far easier to critically engage with work you don't like when you search for the things that work, rather than the things that don't. when it works, when it really clicks, you see what they were going for, and only with that perspective can you see why what doesn't work doesn't work. all i ever ask is for readers to take my stuff as it is, good and bad, and judge it on those terms. i find your use of "comforts the disturbed, disturbs the comfortable" funny and fitting. art that wants to be for everyone is art that cannot be for anyone. it is a perfectly round grey sphere that all who gaze upon it can agree "exists" and "succeeds at what it's trying to do." good art is imperfect, because it is the result of a perspective you may not share. i've never wanted to make art for the masses. i want to make the kinds of things that i wished existed when i was younger. there are a surprising number of people who feel that godfeels positively affected their lives, and i know that i have very little to do with that. godfeels is an object that exists in the world. i had ideas of what it was when i wrote it, but i can't control what anyone else sees no matter how much digital ink i spill trying to explain my original vision. if it truly comforts the disturbed and disturbs the comfortable, then on some level i must have succeeded in what i was trying to do even if the path to getting there was spotty and rough.
i did the best i could at every stage of writing godfeels. i would do things differently today, but i also wouldn't be here at all if i'd done it differently back then. i try to extend this grace to other artists as much as possible, that we're all just figuring it out as we go along. but i also know that everyone goes to art for different things, and finds value in different aspects of its expression. really, all i ever want is to have a conversation about the object without the looming specter of Respectability Politics and Moral Hazards. it's when people start acting like godfeels is Dangerous, and that i'm dangerous by extension, that i start having opinions about where critics are fucking up. tell me what it does or fails to do. point at the text and show me you've read and comprehended it by citing your sources and arguing through the text instead of around it. absolutely fuck off with the moral hand-wringing about Transgender Representation and Glorifying Violence and Perpetuating Toxic Stereotypes. it's a fucking Homestuck fanfiction, for god's sake.
but anyway you're not doing that, so, good job! i'm glad you find the experience of reading godfeels illuminating even if it pisses you off. i hope you found this lengthy answer enlightening, and maybe a bit annoying also. consistency is key, or so they say
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Happy Bisexual Awareness Day slash Sly Cooper's birthday, one and all! Even if you didn't leave out cookies, our favourite raccoon will be coming down your chimney tonight, regardless of how good your security system is. ...bisexually.
By the time this post goes up, I'll be recording another episode of Safehouse Chats. (Expect big things on that front, and soon...)
But in the meantime - remember that Carmelita fic you helped me come up with? I figure today's the day to start posting it!
Please enjoy Carmelita Fox in... The Devil of the Mine on AO3 or, if you're really nasty, FF dot net at the links below:
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