Latest Posts by moonschmoon - Page 3
— ‘you’ve got to press it on you.’
characters. dewdrop, rain, swiss, mountain, phantom
themes. SMUT
[warnings] smut, blood, biting, dacryphilia, size kink, corruption kink, light choking, mirror sex, spanking
[gender neutral reader]
a/n: they’re ghouls, read at your own risk
➳ dewdrop
he def fucks with a PASSION
very accommodating
if you want to go slow, he’ll go slow
if you want it rough, he’ll be rough
he can be whatever you’d like, praise or degradation
‘oh yeah, that’s it baby— fuck you really know how to move, where’d you learn that hm? you fucking the other ghouls?’
POWER BOTTOM
i said what i said
dew loves to watch you ride him
and he loves to hold your hips to guide your movements
it’s definitely his favorite position
he doesn’t mind topping tho
this ghoul will mark you up until your neck is painted in your own blood
he’ll lick it up cause he love how sweet you taste
“such a pretty thing covered in your own blood and my cum, fuck you turn me on.”
you lay breathlessly on top of the ghoul as he pets your head. you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, your mind fuzzy and fucked out.
“few more rounds yeah?” dewdrop states moving so he’s now on top of you.
he slips himself back inside you with little effort, using his own cum that’s on you as a lubricant.
you groan into your pillow at the stretch of him. no matter how many times you do it, it still burns in the best way possible.
“that’s it, you’re so good at taking my dick.” he says before leaning over to bite your shoulder.
➳ rain
he doesn’t fuck
he makes love
and he’s so good at it
gives the BEST head
he would stay between your legs for hours if you’d let him
shower sex
y’all are always fuckin in the shower or in some kind of water
oddly enough he’s not a fan of bath sex
the water splashes on the floor and you almost slipped because of it one time
shamelessly loud moans
he breathes heavily after he cums that’s so hot holy fuck
he’ll definitely thank you while cumming
‘thankyouthankyouthankyou— hgnnn i love you so much’
loves to make out with you while he’s inside you
he’s def cried after sex cause it felt so good but don’t tell anyone that
your lips are starting to go numb because of the heavy make out session between the both of you. it almost distracts you from the slow but skilled rolling of his hips into yours. almost.
“you feel so good around me, satan i love you so much.” rain says before moving back into the kiss and pinning you more up against the shower wall.
the water pours down both of your bodies and something about it just absolutely does it for rain.
“you look so amazing like this, soaking wet while i drill my cock into you.” he moans.
➳ swiss
kinky bastard
degradation king
but like his aftercare is amazing so it’s fine
corruption kink
fav position is doggy
loves shoving your face into a pillow while he plows you from behind
also likes to lean down and yank you up so he can hold your neck
has marked you everywhere
needs to let everyone know you’re his
‘you’re mine, don’t forget that’
almost bit a major artery in your leg
ALMOST
there was a lot of blood but it’s okay cause you didn’t die and it only turned him on more
he will try any angle that feels good
he MAKES you flexible
this bitch definitely growls
LOVES to make you watch how he disappears inside you
def has a mirror next to his bed
“look at how good i fuck you.” swiss grips your face and makes you turn to look at yourself in the mirror next to him bed. “look at how well your slutty hole takes me ahh fucking whore for my cock.”
you let out a pathetic whimper that makes swiss chuckle as he pushes your head back into the mattress.
“keep your eyes on me.” he whispers in your ear as he holds the back of your neck. he plants a swift smack on your ass before rubbing his hand over it gently to soothe the sting.
“good play thing.”
➳ mountain
he knows his size
he also knows how to use it
OH LORD
he is so gentle tho
a little scared he’ll hurt you
he also can’t degrade you
he tried and HE ended up crying
loves how he towers over your body
can and will man handle you which means he will fuck you everywhere he can
the wall, the bathroom, the practice room
everywhere
loves the thrill of getting caught
‘shhh baby you don’t want us to get caught do you?’
he loves when you’re vocal, since he kinda just grunts and groans
mountain lifts your leg gently for better access and you can’t help but moan loudly before his hand covers your mouth and he leans down to whisper in your ear.
“so loud, i’m starting to think you want someone to catch us pretty thing.”
your eyes squeeze shut as your body is hit with another wave of pleasure as you feel mountain’s free hand take yours to guide it down your chest and stop at your abdomen before pressing down.
“i’m right here, you feel that?”
➳ phantom
i love phantom i do but he’s younger and doesn’t have as much as experience as the other ghouls
that being said
he focuses a little too much on himself but
HE WHIMPERS
‘ah fuck’
he loves holding you close to him while thrusting into you
doesn’t pull out all the way, he kind of just jerks into you really fast
lil jackhammer
he learns how to make you feel good from your guidance
likes when you communicate how you feel during sex
he likes seeing you cry but only because it feels good
he doesn’t like hurting you
bites you but not hard enough to draw blood
he likes praising you
very possessive
phantom places gentle kisses over the fresh indent of his teeth on your neck while holding onto you for dear life.
“such a good little thing for me nghh so tight, all mine.”
you’ll admit he was going a little too fast for it to feel good on you end, that was until you adjusted your hips and he started hitting a certain spot that had your legs shaking.
phantom takes notice of this almost immediately.
“i hit your sweet spot didn’t i?”
“p-phantom i need to you slow down and keep that angle.” your eyes are practically rolling back into your head at this point as he listens to your instructions.
“fuck you’re squeezing me so tight.”
please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄
feral i’ve gone feral you guys
.love always <3 pearl
.masterlist
No words just a weird gurgling noise
From graveyrdghoul on Twitter
NEW SODO PIC!
the little shit already deleted it again
(Unmasked ghoul below the cut)
@ghuleh-recs send an interview about impera to me and I'm going truly fucking INSANEEE, so...
GUITARS USED ON IMPERA
80s explorer, '78 maple neck strat & 80s flying V
black les paul, prs 24 custom & 1970s strat
tobias' black les paul could be different tho, there's a shit load of les pauls, but yeah, just for general visuals lmao
black beauty gibson les pauls from '77, they came with either two or three pickups, in either gold or silver plus they were customs so there probably is a few different versions
i obviously don't know the colours of the exact guitars they used but those are the models, as i said, just for visuals hehehe (unless they got some heavier mods but it should be close enough)
hellosiesss :)
may i ask, can you maybe do headcanons with the ghouls how theyd act if theyd catch a cold? :]
alrighty, my first headcanons? i'm into it let's GO! (Gonna do the Ghoulettes too ofc because I love and appreciate them 🥹) Sodo
This guy cannot TAKE it. He is the WORST patient.
He's stubborn asf. Cough medicine? Don't know her. Lozenges? Don't know her. Rest and fluids? DON'T KNOW HER.
"I'm FINE. GO AWAY........... wait no where are you going? COME BACK HERE."
You'll spend all day arguing with the guy who can't taste the soup you're force feeding him because his sinuses are so. damn. blocked. But no, he will not back down.
Keeps you up all night with his sniffles and coughing fits and yet, he still, won't BLOODY LISTEN to you.
It takes him 3 days of being sick to actually admit he's sick. By this point, he hovers in your doorway wrapped head to toe in a blanket, sniffling and sulking.
"...I think I'm sick."
Rain & Cumulus (because they'd react much the same)
Neither one wants to be a burden. The thought of you having to take time out of your day to care for them? Oh, it pains them.
"You're looking a bit pale, love?" ... "No...no, it's... the lighting?"
They try to keep going as normal, powering through but you have to tell them it's okay to rest.
You've lost count of the amount of times they've thanked you for the tea. Too many. It's too many. It's just one cup of tea...
Tries to hide their coughs from you so they don't bother you
"You don't need to help me, it's my fault, I got sick..."
You can't stand that sad look in their eyes every time you do something nice for them. It's not self pity, it's a wordless apology and endless thanks each time.
Bless them
Phantom & Swiss (again i think they'd react similarly...)
It's like having a toddler.
"OooooOOOOoooOOOoooOOOoowwwWWWWwwwWWWWW, my heeeeEEAAAAAAaaaaDDDDdddd"
Literally writhing around in bed whining like they'd had their arm amputated.
"Babe, I need a shoulder rub." "Babe, I need cough sweets." "Babe, I need tissues." "Babe, I need chicken soup with those dumpling things you make that are sooOOOoooOOOoo good."
More deceptive than Lucifer himself. It's just a blocked nose.
Don't fall for their lies. They just enjoy being pampered.
Typical MEN.
But you can't argue with them because it's not worth the hours of pouting, whining and side eye you'd get from their end of the couch.
Mountain and Cirrus
They will not let you do ANYTHING.
Refuse to admit they're sick at all.
"The cold never bothered me anywaaaayyyyy."
You know full well they're sick, you can see their red nose and you hear the coughing fits from the other room but they just. keep. going.
Making that cold their BITCH. The show must go on.
They're like freaking machines or something idk
You have to trick them into taking anything that might help. "I just thought you might like some tea... It's.... refreshing?"
The first signs of them getting sick, they're chugging cough medicine like it's the last water in the desert. It will NOT get the better of them.
Aurora
She complains. A lot.
Makes an noise every time she blows her nose. "AaaaaaAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHhhhhhh"
She's emotional asf. She tripped on her blanket as she was dragging it down the hall to you and wept like a baby.
When you brought her dippy egg and toast soldiers for breakfast? Anyone would have thought you'd asked her to marry you.
She's so appreciative of everything you do for her. She makes a note to get you a gift when she can breathe through her nose and leave the bed again.
"I'm sorry i'm sick... love you..." all pouty and adorable.
Whines whenever she has to move an inch.
SEND ME MORE HEADCANONS IF YOU LIKE, THIS WAS FUN! 🥰
please i'm begging you
REBLOG IF YOU ARE HELLA BORED AND WOULDN’T MIND SOME CURIOUS ANONS.
i love fics where you start to fall for a character you usually aren't interested in. because it's not the character you're beginning to love, it's the author's version of them. it's their creation. you're actually just in love with the author lmao
"This thing about being a rebel, being an outsider, also has its price. I always took a step away from everyone else. (...) That’s just how I was. I didn’t join our school trip in the ninth grade and I didn’t go to the graduation either, because I didn’t want to join in. I didn't belong there. Even now in adulthood when I have a lot of things that I should be happy about and I’m really as far from all that as possible, I still have… I don’t know if it’s a nightmare, but I have a recurring dream where I’m still that age and I’m at home, alone, feeling as if I shouldn’t be there, that I should be where the others are but I'm not."
- Tobias Forge, Sweden Rock Mag 2020
"It's so important to spend time together, and have fun together, smiling together, feeling you're belonging somewhere, don't you think? It is a wonderful feeling. I've always felt that if I just got to the end of the rainbow, whatever is there, I will find belonging... And I'm assuming that this is it. The belonging that we're sharing."
- Papa Emeritus IV's speech in Indianapolis 8/22/2023
my first ritual was actually fucking insane because i was just sitting there and my favorite band just kind of showed up. and then i realized holy shit this is my favorite band AND the ghouls are literally some of my favorite musicians??? double package. i'm still in shambles over it and it's been 2 weeks now.
Phantom with prompt #1? Feel like that’ll be adorable, he’s so baby. Love the writing!!
°✧ extra shadow ✧°
pairing: phantom x reader
warnings: none
a/n: ik I wrote something similar before but he's just so cute like this
pic from pinterest
"Uh, oh… hi there…" I spoke, turning around as I noticed an extra shadow trailing behind me through the Ministry.
The ghoul wasn't familiar to me. Definitely a new one based on how he looked at everything with wonder and still had a lot of raw ghoul behaviors rather than learned human ones. Besides the fact that I just didn't recognize him. He had black hair and quintessence-signature lavender eyes, and medium-toned washed out purple skin, all of which had drastically pale streaks on his left side. Aether stood a short distance and gave me an apologetic smile as he came closer. He set a hand on the new ghoul’s shoulder.
"This is Phantom. He's, well, recently summoned." Aether started. "I don't know if you've noticed, but he's been following you ever since he was allowed to explore the Ministry today."
I smiled and introduced myself to the new ghoul, "You're quite sneaky, I didn't notice you until just a few minutes ago."
He grinned and his tail wagged eagerly at the praise, "No one's ever told me that…"
Aether gave him a concerned look as a lilac flush came over Phantom’s face, trying to gently guide him away, "Well, I'm sure we need to go see Papa right now. Thank you for being so nice to him even though he followed you ar- "
"No…" Phantom whined, turning his big, sad eyes to Aether. "Not yet, please…"
"You've got to- "
Phantom ripped out of his grip before he could make another comment. The new quintessence ghoul wrapped himself around my arm, going for contact but not too much yet. I chuckled at how endearing his evident affection was. His tail wagged impishly behind his back as he obstinately looked to Aether. There was no way I could make him let go of me when he was being so sweet, so instead I gave a good-natured ruffle over his hair.
But Phantom went still and looked at me with a serious, shocked expression. Aether made a cautionary hum noise, taking a step closer but freezing in place there. I looked between the two of them, utterly confused as to what just happened. Phantom quietly requested that I do it again in his sweet, pleading voice. Unable to refuse, I repeated the motion and scratched lightly over his head. His ears flattened down as a smile formed over his lips and his eyes shut, loud purrs sounding from the base of his throat.
"Oh no…" Aether tsked, his arms crossing over his chest as he observed the scene unfold.
"What?" I asked, petting lightly over the younger ghoul’s hair.
"I don't think he's ever going to get to Papa's office today. Much more, leave you alone."
Phantom nodded vigorously as his eyes opened and looked right up at me, "I'm staying right here. I love you."
I blinked and smiled in admiration of his naivety, "It's a bit soon for that, don't you think? I only just met you, honey."
He shook his head, "Ghouls can smell that kind of thing. I dunno if you knew, but there's a smell for… well, important people in your life. Especially for mates. It's really strong. It might be soon but… I can wait. For you."
I didn't know what to say.
Aether stepped in, smoothing a hand down Phantom’s back, "Humans take a lot more time and they like some space, okay? If your beloved here doesn't mind, you can come visit after going to Papa's office, alright? Besides, I'm sure he could help you learn more about humans."
The younger ghoul looked up at me with a pitiful pout.
I took a breath and found the words to help Aether out: "You can come back to see me right after, I promise. You really should go see Papa. He's super nice."
He sighed, looking down at the ground before bringing his gaze back up at me, "Okay. If you promise."
Aether mouthed a "thank you" at me and coaxed Phantom back down the hall. The younger ghoul kept turning his head back over his shoulder to peek at me, his tail wagging lightly every time he did. He nearly tripped over his own feet but followed beside Aether without complaint.
Papas and their favorite ghouls! 💙💜✨
DEW KISSING RAINS NECK TONIGHT??? I NEED TO KNOW IF THE RUMORS ARE TRUE PLEASE AND THANK YOU
reblog to have good concert luck
re-blog if you're accepting anonymous asks from anyone about anything
Instagram; hunterraiehorror
Why we write for Gonst ^^
Nothing makes me more at peace than getting used to an instrument, especially one that's perfect for you in every way.
When you finally catch on to something that feels perfect, that you were always meant to do one way or another, an extension of you. I wasn't able to experience that until a month ago.
So much has happened, and now with oncoming PMDD I will definitely feel worse, but now I actually feel at peace for once. That everything's going right.
Music is a wonderful thing.
she get down on her knees till i cry for absolution
poor dew
[MESSAGE FROM THE CLERGY]
I didn't know gay people were that small.
/A Nameless Ghoul
Confessional - Cardinal Copia x F!Reader
Summary: As a sister of sin, it was your duty to confess at least once a month, to have your sins praised by a higher up member of the clergy. But you only ever chose Thursday nights, when you knew he was on duty. And tonight, you were working up the courage to confess your darkest sin - the dreams you had been having...
Rating: Explicit, 18+ Word Count: 5.5k
Warnings: Mutual masturbation, graphic description of oral sex and penetrative sex, corruption kink, shame kink, obviously sacrilegious themes (hello?? It’s ghost…), some nastiness akin to panty-sniffing… (you’ll see what I mean lol)
Your shoes clacked on the solid flooring of the ministry, resonating on the marble to fill the silence. It was already late, the sun long gone and no longer illuminating the stained glass of the windows as you passed them.
You couldn’t help your hands nervously wringing as you walked towards the chapel, pace quicker than normal. Perhaps rushing there was doing nothing for your current nervous state, but idly walking was closer to torture, and any slower, you might miss him…
There were only a few minutes left of confessional, and whilst you knew it would be incredibly quiet this late into the evening, you had left it as long as possible for fear of running into anybody else.
Thursday night confessional was the quietest – after all, it was his night, and he wasn’t a Papa. Your siblings favoured their Papas, any chance for a one-to-one conversation with them but not you… You only wanted to speak to him.
The doors to the chapel at the end of the hall stood before you, your mind still toying with the idea of turning and running, maybe trying again next Thursday… It had taken you weeks to muster the courage to confess this evening, and the chapel doors were the furthest you had ever got without retreating to the safety of your dorm. Tonight, you were determined – you had to confess.
With a deep breath, your hands – which you had adorned in some very pretty black lace gloves – opened the doors to the chapel. The creak echoed along the intricate stone architecture, and with it you heard a smaller creak of a wooden door, followed by a tiny slam. Had you not been looking dead ahead at the confessional booth as you entered, you perhaps wouldn’t have noticed it was in fact the confessional door closing very quickly.
On his side.
‘He thought he was done for the evening’, you thought.
You stayed put for a moment, contemplating just running back to your dorm and allowing his evening to end here – maybe he was disappointed that a sibling had come to confessional at the very last moment.
“Sh-should I come back next week?” you asked to the open room.
“Oh, uh… no, no. Please, sister. I was just, uh… stretching my legs. Por favore, come. Sit,” he invited.
You couldn’t help but smile a little at his sheepishness, like a child being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, protesting his innocence.
Quickly, you shut the chapel doors behind you and clacked your way over to the confessional, taking a seat across from his side and sitting awkwardly on the plush leather bench. The screen between the two of you kept a comfortable separation, forbidding you from having to look him in his wonderfully mismatched eyes.
You weren’t sure you could do this without that luxury…
“When you’re ready, Sorella.”
You took a deep breath, your hands playing with the fabric of your habit at the knees.
“Cardinal, I… I have sinned,” you began.
“Which of the sins have you committed, Sorella?”
This was harder than you had anticipated, the fear of judgement so prevalent in your mind you thought of making up something far less than that you had planned to express.
Of course, you would not be judged for your sins – but praised. Confessional was not to be absolved of your sins, rather to celebrate them. You were supposed to sin, and at least one confessional per month was mandatory as a Sibling of Sin at the ministry. But this one felt like one you perhaps should have kept to yourself…
“Sorella?” he urged again, gently attempting to coax your sins from you.
“I’m sorry, Cardinal, this is… embarrassing.”
“Take your time, but know that no matter what, the dark lord will be pleased with y-“ “Lust, Cardinal. It’s… it’s lust,” you interrupted.
“Oh…” he seemed taken aback, almost awkward himself. “Well, uhh… In your own time, eh?”
You looked up from your hands where you had been staring at the lace that adorned them, taking a look through the lattice screen and barely seeing his outline across from you. You could only just make out the red of his cassock, not so bright in the dim lighting of the booth. The red was your favourite…
“Cardinal, I’ve been having these dreams…” you began, “well, the same dream. Always the same… and it follows me. I can’t think straight anymore, it’s… affecting my days, my work. My siblings are starting to notice my mind wanders and I can’t explain it to them. I’m trying to continue my duties, but I find it so hard to focus after having this dream.”
In the booth beside you, Cardinal Copia listened intently. “Sorella, is this a… dream of a, uh… sexual nature?” he asked tentatively, shy himself.
Copia was perhaps the most awkward of the higher ups, nothing like his brothers in their blatant sexuality and charm with women. Perhaps that had been where this started; a curiosity of sorts. Perhaps his somewhat goofy persona is what had caught your eye, made your thoughts wander during seminars and Black Mass.
Whatever had sparked this, it had only grown.
“Yes, Cardinal… They are,” you shuffled on the bench, the leather squeaking beneath you, “I dream I’m studying late, in a seminar room and… well, I’m not alone. One thing leads to another, and… I’m sure you can imagine what happens next.” You hurried to finish your sentence, praying to Satan himself the Cardinal didn’t press the subject of your dream much further and this may be enough of a confession to please the dark lord.
But imagine is exactly what the Cardinal was doing.
Had he not seen it was you who opened the chapel doors at 10:56pm on a Thursday evening as his confessional duties were coming to an end, perhaps he could have remained professional, listened to your confession without issue.
But you were exactly the issue. His sweet, most innocent Sorella…
The Sorella who smiled at him in the hallways, no matter who she was walking with.
The Sorella who never misses a seminar he’s hosting.
The Sorella who only ever confesses on a Thursday, during his duty.
The Sorella who keeps stealing glances at him as his brothers perform Black Mass.
His heart ached a little at the prospect you were dreaming of someone, of anyone other than him. But whilst his heart ached, his crotch twitched… Already, the picture you had painted for him was enough to be the focus of his imagination long into the night.
Copia coughed once to rid the thought from his mind as best he could.
“And these are dreams, you say?” he asked, hoping to drag your confession out just a little longer, to see if you would let any more information slip.
“Well, they started that way…”
The Cardinal’s head snapped to look at the screen between you both as if he were looking directly in your eyes, but he could only see the silhouette of your side profile in the dark.
“Please, explain...”
Heat crept onto your cheeks, a blush spreading as you recounted the dreams in vivid detail that had turned into daydreams.
“My mind wanders during the day… I can’t help myself.”
The Cardinal hadn’t realised he was squeezing his own knees with his hands until he heard the leather of his gloves squeak from the pressure. He quickly shook them out, ridding his mind of the thoughts you had placed there without intention.
“The subject of these desires – is it always the same person, mio cara?” he asked bravely.
“Yes, Cardinal…”
He took a deep breath, a part of him so hoping this wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.
“Do you wish to tell me who, mio cara?” He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t praying to Satan himself that the subject of your fantasies was him. He wouldn’t know what to do with the information if he had it, but he needed to know, he had to pry…
“This is why I’m embarrassed, Cardinal… I-“ you paused. Were you really about to do this? Were you going to confess to this?
“This is a safe place, Sorella. Speak your truth, tell me your sins…” he urged, verging on desperate as he tried to keep his voice composed.
In your booth, your mind swam with the images of your dreams… Slow touches over your habit, gentle caresses of your cheek turning into ravenous kisses and manhandling until you were bent over your dear Cardinal’s desk with your rear on display and core soiling your panties. Just the images were enough to make you squeeze your knees together in an attempt to still the pulsing you felt between your legs…
“Cardinal…” you almost whined in a hushed voice. The poor man beside you had to bite into his leather-clad fist to stop himself from reacting. That whine; it sent a shiver down his spine that rippled across his whole body, the blood seeming to drain from the top of his head to one focal point below his waist… It took all the strength he had not to palm himself through his cassock.
Instead, he remained quiet. The only sound was the noise his leather gloves made as he squeezed his hands into fists. But he needed to give you the chance to speak, he wasn’t going to force you into admission…
“I-I’m sorry, Cardinal… but… it’s you.”
And there it was. Two little words that put his mind in a tailspin.
It’s you.
“Sweet sorella…” he whispered, “don’t apologise…”
But how could you not? You had been mortified the second the admission left your lips. You didn’t have to tell him it was him, but something had forced it out of you, some tiny little bit of hope that he would show an interest, or at the very least, that he wouldn’t chastise you for such dirty thoughts of him.
“Do you think less of me, Cardinal?” you asked in a hushed tone, tears almost threatening to creep up on you.
“Mio cara, as if I ever could… Your sins are celebrated here, you know this, eh?” The cardinal sounded as if he was pleading with you, begging you not to be disgusted or angry at yourself. Truly, that was exactly what he was doing; because he was more aroused by your admission than anything he had ever seen, heard or felt before.
Because it was you.
“But...” “No, Sorella, I won’t hear it. You are free to sin, we… we encourage sin,” he stumbled a little over his words, trying to be decent and professional but his resolve was quickly crumbling.
A beat of silence passed between the two of you, the only sound the creak of the wooden booth as the Cardinal shifted on his bench. The mere thought that the Cardinal might encourage this behaviour, that he might encourage your filthy thoughts about him had you biting your lip to save the whimper that had crept up your throat.
“May I ask something, Sorella? A question you don’t have to answer,” he asked, leaning slightly closer to the lattice between you and lowering his voice as if others could hear.
“Mm-hmm,” was all you could manage, still holding back that whimper as your thighs squeezed together a little tighter.
“Do you ever… act on those dreams?”
It was unprofessional, and he knew it. It was invasive, and he knew it. But he could never forgive himself if he didn’t at least ask.
In the tiniest voice, barely audible even in the silence of the chapel, you replied, “Once…”
But he heard you. Oh, he heard you loud and clear.
And the thought of his cara, his sweetest sorella fantasising about him to a point of arousal where she simply cannot help herself but to reach under her habit and… Well, it was driving him wild. His already wildly engorged erection was almost painful, begging to be touched. In a battle between his mind and his body, his body had won – his palm pushed against himself, slowly as to evade suspicion from just his shadow alone.
The guilt he felt as he crumbled… If you knew how filthy the old man was being, how he couldn’t help himself when it came to you, how he just had to touch himself as you confessed in confidence to him, you would surely despise him. He knew that.
And yet, at this point he was close to risking it all for just one moment of bliss.
“Cardinal, I’m so sorry… this was too much. I shouldn’t have come tonight, should never have said anything,” you panicked. He’d been quiet for a beat too long, and it was driving you insane. You needed to go, to run back to your dorm and lock yourself away to take care of yourself and the heat pooling between your legs whilst simultaneously avoiding any and all encounters with the Cardinal for the foreseeable future.
You stood up to leave when…
“No, no, wait, per favore…”
His tone stopped you in your tracks – the distress, as if he were the one in the wrong out of the two of you, as if he were the pervert.
“Mio cara, I don’t want you to feel embarrassed. And I don’t want you to feel like what you have thought or done is wrong.”
At least, not wrong enough that you should feel any shame. Sin was indeed the point, after all...
“And I certainly wouldn’t want you to leave without a sense of climax, eh?”
His chosen words felt cryptic, as if he himself were testing the waters but you couldn’t be sure. Yet the slight possibility was enough to make you sit back down and wait for him to continue.
Did he mean confessional? That you hadn’t heard his usual ‘celebration of sin’ speech he did for every confession before you had left? Or did he mean it in the literal sense?
Oh, Satan, you hoped for the literal sense. The one and only climax you had ever allowed yourself with thoughts of him running rabid in your mind had been the single most religious experience you’d had since joining the ministry.
“Dolcezza,” he began, “If… if you so wish, you can tell me about your dreams. I’ll think no less of you, te lo prometto (I promise you)…”
His tone was so soothing, as if he had morphed into the very serpent that tempted Eve to the apple. Was that what he was doing? Tempting you? You had no time to ponder the thought, your mouth betraying your mind as you began to recount the parts of the dream you had hidden from him before.
“I’m studying… Latin translation, Cardinal – your specialty,” you spoke with admiration, “you offer to help me, standing beside the desk as I translate a text for you. It’s about… sins of the flesh, and how they can be used as an offering to Lucifer.”
The Cardinal beside you listened intently, his palm slowly resuming the pressure he’d put on his length over his cassock before.
“I… tell you I’d never committed that sin before. At least, not with another… that’s when you crouch down beside me, and tell me it’s the most wonderful feeling. How… important the female orgasm is, and how… I should try it sometime. With someone I trusted, of course. And then, I…” just thinking of what you say to him in the dream had you squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment, cringing at yourself but your cardinal beside you… he was so desperate to hear what you do next.
“I tell you I trust you… And you tell me you’ll take good care of me,” you divulged.
Oh, he would take good care of you, he thought, gripping his cock through his cassock hard to stifle the groan that rumbled deep in his chest. The shame that washed over him as he gave in to his own selfish desperation weighed heavy on his shoulders, and had it been anybody but you he wouldn’t even dare to indulge. But it was you – his sweetest sorella…
“Sorella, I would take good care of you...” Copia tested the waters, relieved to hear the tiniest of whimpers from your side of the booth as his words settled in the air. You squeezed your thighs tightly together, your knees raising as you twisted in your seat to feel as much friction as possible without having to reach down between your thighs.
“Please, continue mio cara…”
You took a deep breath, “you lean in to kiss me, gently at first but… your hands push my veil back from my hairline until it drops, and wind their way into my hair. I just… I can’t help myself then. Before I know what overcomes me, I’m gripping onto your cassock and pulling you as close as possible, Cardinal. I get… so desperate,” you breathed, your hand snaking to cup yourself between your legs, unable to stand the lack of pressure any longer.
“Tesoro…” he moans beside you. His hand effortlessly unbuttons his cassock, pushing its way past the waistband of his pants to grip himself bare underneath. He’s too far gone to worry about you catching on. Hell, he almost wished you would.
Like a bolt of electricity, a shock shot through your body to your core at the sound of his moan. It was better than you had dreamed, far deeper, the timbre of his voice vibrating through you. It only served to push you into confessing more…
“You lift me to sit on the desk and stand between my knees, your hands disappearing from my hair to under my habit,” your hand began to rub against your core, the other bunching your habit up around your knees, pulling it higher and higher to expose your legs beneath.
You felt utterly mortified at yourself, so eager to relieve yourself beside your cardinal. But you wouldn’t dare stop, not when you could still hear his breath deepening, slowing as if trying to control himself also.
“You touch me, and… it feels incredible,” you whine, your own fingers replicating his in your dream, now able to push your panties to the side and slowly drag through your soaked core, the lace of your gloves dampening. Copia could barely drag his fist over his length from under his pants but it sure as hell didn’t stop him as he envisioned getting to push his gloved fingers into your beautifully glistening pussy…
You don’t wait for any kind of response, your fight or flight instincts kicking in. To give him an opportunity to interrupt and scold you for your dreams would be a grave mistake on your part and one you may not recover from – so you just continued…
“Your fingers, they… slide into me. The leather feels cold – I like it, it’s… nice,” you whine, pushing your own laced fingers into you as you spoke, slowly… “But you take them out again, and you taste them…”
“Merda,” he hissed, squeezing himself. The picture in his mind was so perfect, he could practically hear your moans, hear the way his fingers sounded gliding through your slick…
No, wait…
He really could hear that…
His eye shot open – he hadn’t even realised they were shut this whole time – and he sat bolt upright, the hand in his pants slipping back out. He stilled, listening out for that tell-tale sound again, the quiet, wet squelch of what he prayed to Satanas was your fingers gliding through your slick.
And he heard it again.
His heart weighed so heavy in his chest, shame washing over him. You were part of his congregation. He was someone you looked up to, turned to for guidance and teachings and yet here he was – letting himself paint the filthiest picture of the two of you. You trusted him, and here he was having to force his hand away from his cock as you confessed your sin.
‘Copia, you pathetic old pervert’, he thought to himself.
“C-Cardinal…” you whined, and that was enough for him. Perhaps he was a disgusting, perverted old man who was hopelessly in love with a member of his congregation, and he just had to live with that – because there wasn’t a single circle of hell vile enough to deter him from unlacing the front of his pants to let his thick cock spring free and chase the pleasure he denied himself after hearing his name spill from your lips like that.
On your side, your mind couldn’t string together any form of coherency aside from recounting the details of your dream aloud. The lace of your glove was sodden with slick, fingers delving as deep as possible as you slumped against the back of the booth, legs spread and habit bunched around your hips.
“Y-you get to your knees in front of me, and… and you use your mouth,” you sob, clenching around your own fingers. “Your tongue, it… feels… ohh,” you moaned wantonly, catching yourself in what you were doing and suddenly realising you were no longer being remotely subtle.
Your eyes widened, fear rushing through you as you looked to your left at the figure behind the lattice. What would he think of you? He would be so ashamed of you… how could you ever look him in the eye again? Your mind raced with panic, until movement in your peripheral caught your attention.
A slow, rhythmic shadow… where his lap should be…
Paired with the short, sharp breaths he tried to hush that followed each movement of that shadow, you could surely draw only one conclusion.
And the thought had a fresh wave of heat sweeping through your core…
“S-sometimes this part, it’s… different…” you began again, slowly resuming your self-pleasure.
“Mmf, how… how so, dolce?” he asked, slowly pumping his cock in his hand, his eyes squeezing shut again and leaning his head against the back wall of his booth.
“Sometimes you… you make me cum on your tongue but sometimes… you c-can’t wait…” you stutter, picturing the scene in your head as your free hand comes to circle your clit, adding a layer of pleasure that had fresh slick slipping past your fingers.
“Fanculo… What do you mean, Tesoro?” he asks, his thumb spreading the beads of precum shining at the head of his cock. The leather glove he wore shone wet as he fisted his length.
“You uh… you spin me around a-and, you push me down against the desk…” you avowed, “and you f-fuck me, Cardinal…” If you had learned anything about yourself today, it was that you had a shame kink – because the way your pussy clenched around your gloved fingers as you spoke was too telling…
“In nome di Satanas (in Satan’s name)…” he growled beside you, his fist pumping fast enough that you could hear the sound of his cock gliding through it. “I… fuck you, Sorella?”
“I-I’m sorry for… my language, Cardinal…” you pleaded, unable to stop yourself from fucking your fingers deeper into you, your foot propped up on the wall opposite you.
“Oh, mio cara… don’t you apologise,” he smirked as he sat basking in your sweet attempt at an apology as if he didn’t know you were doing far worse next to him than cursing. Satanas, he fucking loved your innocence – but more so, he loved knowing that it was him who could corrupt it.
Still, he heard those delicious noises from beside him, his mind racing trying to imagine how you would taste given the chance to try… His dolcezza… Just one chance to taste you and he’d never forget how sweet you truly were.
But oh, Satanas, the thought of bending you over that desk in his classroom and sinking his length into your tight, wet cunt… It was almost too much for Copia. He had to squeeze himself at the base to stave off an early orgasm. No way was he finishing before you had confessed all to him.
“Will you tell me how, Tesoro?” he asks, and your willingness to answer him stuns you; how easily you gave in to your Cardinal, wanting nothing more than to please him.
“You’re… gentle with me. You take care of me, make sure you don’t hurt me… At least at first,” your hands slowed to the pace you envisioned his hips meeting yours, the building pressure in your abdomen lessening for the time being. The cardinals fist did the same, simulating the feeling of filling you.
“You always tell me how good I’m doing, that... you know I can handle more.” How you had got him so accurate in your dream is beyond him; as he slowly fisted his cock he knew that he would say those things to you, he would always praise you, tell you how good you were being for him. He’d only ever want to take care of you, to make sure you not only felt every single ridge and vein of his thickness but that you were comfortable while doing so.
“I know you’d be good for me, amore mio…” Copia was too far gone to recognise his own tiny confession as he talked you through your dream.
“C-Cardinal…” you whimper, your fingers curling inside you to reach the spot you just know his cock would hit with every slow thrust.
“It’s okay, Sorella…” he reassured, willing you to continue. If he got to hear you climax, to hear those gasps and sordid moans spill from you as you came, he could die a happy – if somewhat perverted – man.
“You start to get faster… harder… I can feel the edge of the desk digging into my thighs,” your clit pulsed under the circles you drew over it, “y-you p-pull my hair a little… a lot,” you corrected yourself as you stuttered. In your dream, Copia would wrap his fingers in your hair and pull until your chest lifted from the desk. “It hurts a little, but… I like it.”
He couldn’t take much more of this. His cock was leaking profusely as his fist quickened its pace. From beside you, you could hear his grunts, and the moment he spits into his palm to make the glide of his fist easier. It only served to heighten your arousal more.
Imagining his hips pistoning into you from behind, you couldn’t help but rut against your own fingers, little whimpers leaving you with each thrust. In the booth beside you, Copia was doing much the same, hips thrusting up into his fist which had now stilled to allow the next best thing other than your pussy.
“Sorella, I… merda,” he didn’t even know what he was trying to say, his mind simply clouded with thoughts of you and only you.
You were giving in, hands working so fast to race towards an end. You needed release, you needed to cum. For how long you had stopped yourself from touching yourself to these fantasies, you could barely edge yourself any longer. You’d only ever allowed yourself a release to thoughts of Copia once before, when it had become too much and now you were finally allowing yourself again.
And not only you, but the Cardinal was sat beside you, furiously fucking into his fist as if it were you because of your fantasy… You couldn’t hold off if you tried.
You pressed your lips together in a hard line as you hummed, suppressing a moan that would ricochet off the chapel walls for the ministry to hear. The pressure built and built, heat turning into a spark, to a flame until you ignited an inferno…
“C-Copia… Please,” you howled into your shoulder, curling in on yourself as you met your end. You fucked yourself through your orgasm, feet kicking out against the wood of the booth.
At the sound of his name – his real name – being thrown from your lips in desperation was enough to make his cock pulse in his fist, hips stuttering as he shot thick spurts of cum across his hand and down the front of his cassock. But the sounds of your fingers deep inside yourself and the thumps of you thrashing around next to him drove him animalistically wild, continuing to desperately thrust into his fist into overstimulation.
The both of you had to slow to catch your breath, slumping into opposite corners of the booths and both of you removing your hands from the messes you had made of yourselves. Your glove was sopping, to a point it almost repulsed you – you had to slip it off, letting it fall beside you as you recovered from your post-orgasm exhaustion.
The silence between the two of you was leaving too many unanswered questions, neither one of you knowing how to proceed from here. But frankly, you both needed to catch your breath and calm yourselves down before you could even think straight.
“Sorella…” Copia started, tucking himself back into his pants. “You…” he sighed, shame washing over him once again now the orgasm haze had dissipated. He ran his clean hand through his hair, and slotted himself back into Cardinal mode. “You should say your prayer of thanks…”
Disappointment washed over you, followed by a helping of embarrassment. He wanted to wrap up whatever this had been quick, and have you go on your way… Why had you expected anything different?
“Um… yeah, I… I should,” you started. Sitting up, your roll your habit back down to hang around your ankles and began your prayer. “Satanas, I thank you for your guidance and celebrate my sin with you, shrouded in your darkness. Nema.” You kept it short, now desperate to flee the chapel as fast as possible to run and hide in humiliation.
“I celebrate your sin in the name of Lucifer, our Dark Lord,” Copia stayed on script, as if this were any regular confession.
“His wrath endures forever,” you respond, as you knew you should.
“Your sins are celebrated…” he hesitated – he didn’t want you to go like this, he was screaming at himself in his head but his professionalism stopped him from wavering. “Go in peace,” he sighed, leaning forward against his knees, unable to even watch your shadow as you stood and left the booth.
The regret Copia felt stung in his chest – not for the act of sin he had just committed, he could never regret a moment with you. But he regretted the way he let you leave, hearing your heels clacking on the marble floor faster than they had approached earlier that evening. You got out of there fast, and he was so mad at himself for making you feel like you needed to run from him.
Copia looked down in his lap at the mess he had made of himself. He shrugged out of his cassock, the stains localised to just the jacket so he could at least leave with a little dignity in his pants and shirt underneath. He stepped out of the booth, checking that there was nothing to clean up on his side – luckily not, he was already far too ashamed of himself to have to spend any more time here.
He walked to your side to check for the same, praying to Lucifer there was nothing left on the bench either. Cleaning up his own mess was humiliating enough, but cleaning up yours? Satanas, he’d be mortified…
As he opened the door to the other side, he noted no stains on the leather of the bench. However, he noticed a small black heap in the corner. With a gloved hand, he reached for it, picking it up between pinched fingers.
It was lace… not panties like he had first thought, but a glove. Your lace glove.
You wore them often when he saw you around the ministry, enjoying the pretty pattern no doubt. He laid it in his palm, wondering how to give this back to you without combusting on the spot in horror after what he had just done when he noticed it left a dark, shiny mark on his leather clad hand. A wet mark.
Realisation dawned on him and the blood drained from his face.
You hadn’t taken it off… That mark; that was all you.
He quickly scrunched the glove up in his hand as if hiding it from prying eyes, despite being alone. With a quick guilty look over his shoulders and around the empty chapel, he opened his fist a little closer to his face, picking up a sweet, intoxicating scent as he did so.
He twitched in his pants again at the knowledge that was your scent. That was how you smelled.
Satanas… How could he ever look you in the fucking eye again?
His Sorella… his amore…
What a sick, perverted old Cardinal he was.
Part 2???????? Yay or Nay?????????? A/N: Hey! Welcome, I'm Bee - I'm new to Ghost tumblr, and well, to Ghost too... but not new to writing fan fiction and so this seemed like the natural progression of my new found love of this band. So hi, welcome. I'm planning more fics as we speak... but feel free to send me some prompts and I'll write little blurbs/one shots out of those too... SEND ME A PROMPT
i want to write some fics and i already have a few WIPs, but i'm going to open asks for requests because i'm already running out of ideas. i'll do my best to complete them, it might take a few days because of work, but i'll definitely get to them.
The little occasional peeks at his nose are doing me in.
Oh, Dew. Ah, Per.
Cr: Edward Leach, YT
dew is such a tease just let the poor boy have his lean
somewhere between the
books and the leaves, you
may find me, finding my
place in a realm where reality
and the imaginary coexist.
~K.T.
Who up & searching for a sense of belonging
You had an idea at 3am?
Write it down.
Not sure if you'll like it in the morning when you get up?
Write it down anyway.
Even if you wake up being like 'what is this nonsense,' there is a possibility that rereading your idea may spark another awesome idea.
Don't lose amazing future WIPs because you thought the idea wasn't good enough to write down.
Hell, you may come back 6 months down the line and realize that the idea would be really cool if you tweaked this detail and took that one out.
Never underestimate the power of a 3am writing idea.
Bill of Health
I ignore my health like bills, Throwing aside warnings and promising myself to take care of it later, Until the interest outweighs the principle, And the debt collector knocks on my door.
my little cousin confidently declared that mother nature had a counterpart named daddy electric and i feel like this concept needs to be explored