#dark phantom x ghoul

[voyager-99]

i dont think anyone has done this before :3

[also working on the requests soon, ive been busy with both commissions and schoolwork]

[asterkomet]

[virtuouswhitehatorganization]

Black Zephyr Makes Her Debut

[Vanity Bolt has Dark Phantom and Ghoul beaten up while picking up the former.]

Vanity Bolt: You've got a date with justice, Dark Phantom.

[Just then a gust of wind pushed Vanity Bolt away, as Black Zephyr formerly known as Air Rider made her appearance and was cradling her boyfriend.]

Dark Phantom (grinned up at his girlfriend's appearance on the scene): Too bad, Vanity! I'm a taken man!

[undiscovered-horizon]

Die Happy - Sanji x Reader

SUMMARY: Sanji is disillusioned about your lack of interest in him. Someone like you could pick and choose among princes, kings and emperors. What's a measly cook to you? Nevertheless, his lovesick heart continuously rejoices when you choose him to waste time with.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.3k

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi

Part 2 -> "Maelstrom"

Sanji has never believed in ghouls, witches, faeries and the like. However, when he met you his belief began to shatter:

Like a dark sorceress covering the whole world with a curse, you lured all the influential, important men like fire does moths. At first, Sanji fooled himself that all those generals, merchants and noblemen only wanted something pretty to hang onto their shoulders but reality destroyed his comforting illusion when the said men offered riches most people couldn’t even fathom. If you asked them for an armada to sail to the Grand Line, they’d only ask what type of wood you’d prefer. Despite something akin to world domination lying at your fingertips, you always laughed those offers off, telling your powerful suitors that you would think about their words and get back to them.

Sanji once asked whether you’re truly considering marrying one of the generals or kings. Some more naive part of him hoped you’d say no. Alas, the truth, once again, was his adversary:

“Obviously!” you giggled at his silly question. “But I won’t marry the first one that offers me wealth and whatnot. First, I’d like to see all of my options and the world…” your voice trailed away as you vaguely pointed around the two of you. “Well, it’s a big place. Many more kingdoms to visit.”

But to his own demise, the cook was a fool unlike any other. He had no chance at winning your heart, no matter how much he’d try. Still, his untamable desire egged him on, whispering sweet songs of your grace. Even if he could taste your lips only in his imagination, he could do his best for you to have a reason to keep him around like a dog that begs for scraps at his master’s table.

Sanji knows he’s only hurting himself, only furthering his desperation when he makes you smile or earns a speck of your affection. Every dawn, he promises to free himself from your sorcery but when dusk comes and his left with the Moon, his only confidant, he realizes that he could never possess enough power to cut himself free from you. You’ve pierced his heart right through and if he pulls your knife out of his chest, he’s bound to bleed out and die. It’s better if he lets you have complete control over his mind and soul - it’s the only way he will make it out alive.

He’s left cold and lonely on that night. Soft, silver moonlight washes over him through the small porthole in the wall of his room. The sea is almost black at this hour of the night but it becomes a mystical sapphire when the Moon’s glow washes over the lazy waves making them glisten like pure diamonds.

Diamonds… maybe if he had diamonds, you’d see him as a man and not just a shipmate.

Quiet knocking on his door wakes Sanji up from his thoughts. Before he has a chance to get up and open the door or tell the guest to come in, the mysterious visitor enters out of their own volition.

Your tired face makes Sanji think about painting in museums - the ones all connoisseurs consider “classics” and “timeless”. The silk shirt you’re wearing looks not only awfully expensive but, which is much worse, to be a men’s size. Its hem ends right underneath your buttcheeks, threatening to expose your body should you lift your hands. In the darkness of his cabin, you appear as nothing beyond a phantom, a hallucination born out of desperation. And just like a ghost, you’ve come to haunt and torment him in the sweetest of ways; in a way only you can.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks in a raspy voice. Sanji is doing a great job at appearing unaffected by your rather scantily clad form.

Carefully, you close the door behind you and walk towards him. Your skin glows when you step into the rays of soft moonlight pouring in through the porthole. Dishevelled hair, half-closed eyes and a slightly puffy face - Sanji has imagined you this way countless times but never actually seen. He can feel his body burning up, telling him to seize the opportunity, to wash you in the most charming and suave words he can think of.

“Nami kicks while sleeping,” you say quietly. “I swear to god my whole side is bruised at this point. Can I sleep with you?”

Sanji has to remind himself to breathe and to do so calmly. He’s cool, completely in control of himself. His mouth feels unbearably dry.

“‘Course you can,” he answers casually. With a swift move of his arm, he lifts the duvet. “Come on in.”

The pure bliss that suddenly appears on your face forces Sanji to take in a sharp, ragged breath. It’s an expression he also imagined one too many times when his desperation poisons his mind - not that he’s willing to admit it even to himself. He knows it’s wrong to even entertain a scenario in which you would grace him with such an enraptured face. Still, his will is not as strong as he often makes it out to be.

“Sanji, you are my salvation,” you tell him while getting under the covers with him.

“I know, love.”

It’s both strange and natural, the way your body fits his. As though the two of you have done it so much the memory of your muscles twists and turns your limbs to rest in the most comfortable and intimate way. The odd familiarity makes Sanji think that maybe in another lifetime this is how he always sleeps. He wishes he could find himself in that reality even for a second. Alas, it’s too far out of his reach.

“Damn, you’re really comfortable,” you mumble against his chest. Your hot breath makes him shiver. “And warm. I don’t think I’ll be going back to my bed.” A small grin of cosiness appears on your face - one that Sanji will never forget.

His broad chest and strong arm normally go unnoticed by you but now they’re like a fortress. And just like high stone walls are an unspoken promise of security and happiness, his firm hold on your body is a silent oath of a good night's sleep.

“Stay as long as you want,” he whispers back to you. 

Maybe if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d notice that his words aren’t a statement but a plea. They’re the last thing you remember before drifting off to a restful slumber.

Your breathing slows down and gains a steady, shallow rhythm. Keeping you close to his chest, Sanji allows his hands to gently brush against your arm and back. His movements are feathery, almost fearful. He wouldn’t want you to wake up and change your mind about spending the night beside him - he can indulge in his heart’s desire but he must do so carefully.

“If you only gave me a chance,” he whispers into the night.

Knowing you’re asleep and bound to remain ignorant of his affections, Sanji kisses the top of your head. His lips linger against your hair while he takes in the scent that haunts him day and night. Unknowingly, his grip around your body tightens at that moment as though he has suddenly grown most terrified of having you disappear. Too many nights he’s dreamed of this exact scenario only to wake up to a cold, empty bed.

When the dawn arrives and you leave his arms, this little moment of affection won't mean anything to you. It means nothing now. Sanji knows this very well. He doesn't try to lie to himself that maybe you'll wake up a changed person and finally see him as more than a friendly comrade. Although tonight means nothing to you, it holds an unspeakable weight to Sanji, who will forever gloat about the fact that when you needed help, it was him you turned to. It was his arms that guarded your sleep for a few hours.

Fighting off sleep until he collapses, Sanji revels in the feeling of you against his body and pretends, even if for one night, that you’re his the same way he will always be yours. Watching you sleep cuddled into him, he swears he could die happy now.

[spookyghostjelly]

Sweet Sickness - Phantom x f!reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, pure smut, pnv sex, ghoul in heat, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, biting, Phantom is baby

Thank you @whatawonderfulexistence--blog for proofreading this, you're the best ❤️

You bid a couple of siblings good night as you finally got to your room's door. You had thought about curling up in front of the fireplace with a book all day, and you smiled softly to yourself as you opened the door. You fully expected to come upon the sight of your cozy and empty bedroom but what your gaze came upon instead had your heart nearly jump out of your throat. A ghoul, Phantom more precisely, was pacing nervously back and forth in front of your bed, wide panicked eyes looking up when he heard you come in.

"C-can you close the door please?" He stutters, fidgeting nervously as he comes to a stop.

Your initial shock finally wears off, and you do as he says, closing the door hurriedly behind you. You step towards him, but stop when you notice the way his body tenses.

"Phantom, what's wrong?" You ask, worry seeping into your tone. You'd never seen the ghoul look so restless.

"I… I don't know" he resumes his pacing. "I don't know what's going on, I'm feeling all weird and hot and feverish…" he looks back at you with pleading eyes. "I'm sorry I got into your room without permission y/n, I didn't know what else to do…"

Your heart squeezes at the sight, he looks so genuinely scared, you just want to help him in any way you can. You take another step towards him but he stops his pacing immediately, staring at you, his eyes visibly narrowing on your every move. You stop again.

"Can I get close to you? I just wanna check your temperature." You ask in a soft tone.

His stare is hesitant for a moment before he finally nods, you can see he’s trying to keep himself from fidgeting. You approach him and reach carefully for his forehead. His dark eyes follow your movement with apprehension and once your hand finally comes to rest on his skin, a high pitched whine leaves his lips. A whine that seemingly surprises him just as much as you, if his suddenly horrified expression is anything to go by.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that!" He stammers, his cheeks flushing.

In any other situation, you'd find this incredibly adorable, but the ghoul before you is burning hot to the touch, which is making you a little worried. Ghouls sometimes had a higher body temperature than humans, but Phantom was even hotter than Dew right now, which is unusual. Then, just as you go to withdraw your hand from his skin, his hand is quick to snatch your wrist and bring it to his cheek.

"Can you please keep touching me? I don't know why, it just feels better…"

His wide pleading eyes are staring into yours and you can't help but get lost in the lavender swirls of his irises for a moment, a soft smile pulling at your lips. What brings you back to the moment is a low hum, sounding very nearly like a growl, that comes from Phantom when you mindlessly rubbed your thumb on his cheek. You nearly pull back, afraid you'd hurt him somehow, but his hand still gripping your wrist keeps you from doing so and his whole body tenses.

"It's okay Phantom," you try to sound reassuring despite the little nervous wobble of your voice. "Now, did you tell any of the other ghouls about what's going on?"

He shakes his head and you hum thoughtfully. Truth was, you didn't know much about the ghouls' systems, in their human or demon form, you don't even know if they can actually get sick.

"Are you feeling any kind of pain?"

He thinks for a moment.

"Burning… feels like I'm burning from the inside- it's not painful, I think? But it's…", he pauses as he seemingly searches for the right term, "consuming."

The last word comes as a harsh whisper and suddenly you realize how he had somehow moved closer to you without you even noticing. His body now had you trapped against him and your bed and he was so close, you can feel his body heat wash all over you. You also hear the way his breath is getting heavier with each passing second.

"Phantom? Are you ok?"

Your worry is only increasing when no answer comes. Instead, his head shifts to the side a bit, bringing his lips mere inches from your wrist, and he inhales deeply. His eyes close and a groan escapes his lips while you stare dumbly at him, confused as to what was going on.

"Phan-" you begin but stop abruptly when you feel sharp canines brush your sensitive skin.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I don't know what's going on, but you just smell so good-" he whispers, his breath so feverishly hot on your skin. "Please let me touch you, I feel like I need it so bad…"

His pleading gaze comes back to yours and they are filled with such longing and need you can almost taste it. Despite worry still being present in your mind, you find yourself wanting to indulge him. You'd had a soft spot for the new ghoul ever since you'd first met him a few months ago, just after his summoning, and your feelings only grew with time. He can be a little clumsy at times, and sometimes looked up a little too much at Dew as an example. But, unlike the grumpy fire ghoul, Phantom is sweet, a little shy, and always so eager to help and learn. A little nibble at your wrist pulls your mind back to him, and you realize he is waiting, or rather craving, for an answer.

"Yes", you breathe out.

The word barely makes it past your lips, his hands are cupping your cheeks and his mouth is crashing on yours. He kisses you like a starving man, his sharp fangs brushing against your lips and his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours with a deep moan. You grip at the collar of his uniform shirt while his hands frantically travel down your body to grab your hips, claws digging in slightly as he presses you impossibly further against him. You whimper against his lips as you feel just how hard he already is. Just as you feel yourself getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen, his mouth quickly trails down to your neck where he leaves a myriad of hungry kisses and nips. The broken moan he pulls from you seems to delight him, judging by the purr that rumbles deeply in his chest.

"Fuck puppy, I need to have you, right now"

You squeak as he suddenly tears into your habit and underwear, ripping them all from you, his claws cut through fabric like a knife through butter. Before you can even fully process that you're now bared before him, he's already tearing into his own clothes. In less than seconds, you both stand naked and he's pushing you backwards, until you're laid out on the bed and he eagerly climbs on top of you. As his eyes explore the length of your body, you notice the way his pupils are blown so wide, the purple of his irises can no longer be seen. He's looking down at you like he's literally gonna eat you, and at this point, you think you would actually let him do so. You inhale sharply when he suddenly dives down, his lips sealing around a nipple while a hand goes for the other. Your body arches against him as you cry out his name and he growls lowly. His tail travels softly up and down your legs, a sharp contrast to his ravenous mouth. He then proceeds to leave kisses and bites all the way down your stomach, while his hands flitter from one part of your body to the other, like he's trying to explore everywhere all at once. You're squirming under him and the urgency of his actions has your head spinning. Before you know it, his mouth is now lined with your heat, his breath so hot on your most sensitive parts as he inhales deeply. His eyes look up to yours as his tail curls around one of your ankles and you gasp loudly when his tongue finally laps at you. Your hand flies to his head instinctively, grabbing his horn at the base. He whimpers so loudly, you think you might've hurt him or something, but the second you try to remove your hand he grabs it to keep you from moving. You look down at him and you see the way he's already humping the mattress, desperately looking for any type of relief, all while staring up at you with the hungriest look you've ever seen. He doesn't give you any more time to settle as he then laps at you frantically, like his life actually depends on it. He's going back and forth between plunging his tongue as deep as he can within you, to circling your clit, all while moaning and groaning obscenely. Your grip tightens onto his horn as your head falls back, a mix of his name and swears spilling past your lips. You can't even align proper thoughts anymore, and you know he's far from done with you. His tongue feels sinful in the most delightful of ways and it's sending your mind into complete ecstasy. He then proceeds to plunge two of his fingers within you, pumping them in and out at a vicious pace. He manages to find your sweet spot in record time, and the stimulation of both his tongue and fingers has your orgasm hit you like a freight train. You scream out his name, your grip on now both of his horns tightening as your body shakes. You barely notice the way his eyes roll into the back of his head as he drinks you up eagerly. He continues to lap at you until your body spasms and you whimper from overstimulation. He comes back up to meet your lips with his, kissing you deeply. You moan against him as you taste yourself on his tongue.

"Puppy, need to be inside please, tell me you want me," he begs when he parts from you, the tip of his cock already brushing at your entrance.

"Want you Phantom, please yes," you answer immediately, already desperate to feel him inside you.

He wastes no time as he bottoms out in one go, barely giving you any time to adjust to his size before he starts thrusting into you harshly. You're both panting against each other's lips, both moaning and groaning loudly. He kisses you again while his tail comes up to flick at your nipple and you clench around him, which in turn drives him to fuck you even harder. He's hitting that spot repeatedly again and you're seeing stars, you'd never felt so good. His head falls forward, his lips now brushing against the skin of your neck and you dig your nails into the skin of his back.

"Puppy, I need to bite you, please, please, please!"

He's babbling and pleading loudly but your foggy brain doesn't even manage to fully understand what he said before you suddenly feel his teeth digging in the flesh at the base of your neck. You screech at the sudden spike of pain, pleasure and surprise, a completely overwhelming mix. He releases the skin before hungrily lapping at the blood that now flows from the wound.

"Fuck, that's it, you're mine now puppy, I won't let anyone else touch you… I love you so much!"

He's rutting into you harshly, his hips slapping hard against your skin. You feel tears coming down your cheek, a sob ripping from your throat from the overstimulation and pleasure.

"Phantom, please!"

"Yes puppy I'm right here, I'm gonna fill you up, stuff you full of my kits! You're gonna be such a good mommy…"

He's panting loudly into your ear and you feel yourself clenching around him.

"Cum again for me please, my sweet, I know you can g-give me one more."

As he says so, he angles himself to hit your cervix with every thrust. You're screaming by now but you can't bring yourself to care, not when his cock feels so good. The coil in your stomach is winding tighter and tighter with each of his thrusts, and before you can even process that you're close, you're already screaming his name on repeat as it snaps violently.

"That's it puppy, oh f-fuck, you feel so good, I-I'm gonna-"

He doesn't even manage to finish his sentence as he cums deep in you, stuffing you more full than you've ever been. Praises and swears are tumbling past his lips uncontrollably, nearly incoherent. You feel his cock kick for what feels like minutes and he whimpers and hisses each time your walls clench around him. Finally, his body relaxes and you squeak when he grabs you and flips your positions so you're laying on top of him. You both stay like this for a while, until your quick pants become deeper, calmer breaths. You look up at him only to find his eyes already on you. His pupils are still blown wider than usual, but now you can faintly see a rim of purple around them. You feel his hands against you fidgeting and he's now chewing on his lip worriedly.

"Phantom? What's up?" You ask as you bring a hand to his hair, brushing it back from his face.

He purrs and leans into the touch, eyes closing slightly.

"It's… it's true you know…" you cock your head slightly at his words. "I love you…" he adds hesitantly in a whisper, his eyes darting away from yours.

Your lips part in surprise at his confession. Even after all this, you thought it was probably nothing more than some heat-induced babbling, not an actual confession from him. You feel the way his body tenses at your silence.

"I wasn't planning on telling you like this I swear, I had a whole thing planned in my head, I'm sorry it just came out! I couldn't help it, I think it's because of the weird and stupid sickness, I just-"

You cut off his nervous rant by quickly pressing your lips to his and the muffled gasp that comes from him makes you smile against his lips. He still responds eagerly, quickly turning the kiss into something much more heated. You reluctantly part from him when your lungs scream for oxygen.

"I love you too" you finally breathe out, your heart fluttering in your chest as you do.

He stares at you for a moment with wide humid eyes, his gray skin darkening as he flushes. Then you feel him stir slightly against you, and you notice he's growing hard again.

"Puppy, I-I'm sorry, I think I need help, I'm still feeling…" he trails off, whimpering when you press your hips against his.

"It's ok Phantom, I'm here to help you with your heat," you answer with a smile and you giggle at his confused stare.

"My heat?" You see the realization dawn upon him a few seconds later, then you sink upon him in one quick motion. "Oh fuck, puppy!" He screams.

It would be a long night, that much you knew, but you had to admit, there was no one else you'd rather spend it with than the ghoul you loved.

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 15th

Noncon, Possessed!Swiss x Reader

Masterlist ⛧ Hellish Delights Masterlist

Words: 6.8k

Warnings: Noncon; extreme horror; dead dove: do not eat; explicit use of the word “rape” throughout; public masturbation; exhibitionism; possession; violence; demonic asphyxiation; victim blaming; face-slapping; sexual violence; rape; rape-kink; characters acknowledge that it’s rape; piv; vaginal sex; unprotected sex; pain; degradation; public sex; mind break; underprepared; dacrophilia; unconcious sex; multiple scenes; dubcon; fear play; breeding kink; cum eating; accidental filming via security camera; creampie;

The Ghouls aren't demons in my fic. They're humans who work in the Ministry but they're a different class of profession, somewhere between personal assistants and body guards depending on the importance of Papa's task.

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this is dark fiction, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.

**WARNING**

This is a work of fiction based in the extreme horror category and should be treated as such. I do not condone the actions the characters make, nor am I actively encouraging others to participate in such actions in everyday life. It also does not reflect the personalities of the performers who play these characters.

The purpose of this fic is to shock, scare, entertain, and make readers entirely uncomfortable. If you are not in a headspace where you can safely read and enjoy this story, or even if the trigger warnings make you uncomfortable, I highly recommend and encourage you not to read this. Your mental health is more important than a work of fiction.

If you are struggling to come to terms with past trauma, please talk to someone and seek professional help.

You deserve to feel safe, loved and cared for. Thank you.

Sometimes rituals went wrong. That was one of the things you learned when you first joined the Ministry. Rituals go wrong and not every demon is your friend. Of course, the more rituals one participated in determined the success of said ritual just down to the fact that experience was a key ingredient and so it was always recommended to bring someone who had experience to every single ritual just to be safe.

Papa Copia’s Ghouls were the more experienced ones in the Ministry, but more specifically Mountain, Rain, Swiss, and Dew. Yourself and Phantom were mere babes in comparison; sweet summer children who knew nothing of life and Satanism, only sex rituals on pentagrams give funny dreams and great orgasms. Because of this, you and Phantom walked into the ritual room with a bit of a pep in your steps, and no worries or concerns whatsoever - not concerning yourselves with seriousness or responsibility. This was just a regular, sex magick ritual surrounded by friends in order to contact the Olde One and get some advice is all. You had done this perfectly before, and you had no reason to think it wouldn’t happen again.

You, Rain and Mountain began lighting the candles in the room, ten of them to be precise. One for each of the pentagram’s corners, and a further five to outline the space in between. Dewdrop, the most experienced of everyone there, was in charge of drawing the pentagram from scratch. The first step was to scrub away the existing paint from a previous Sibling’s ritual.

“Why are we doing this?” Phantom asked as he wrung out the hot, soapy water from the sponge.

Dew sighed, “Did you not pay attention during training, Phantom?”

Swiss was now on his hands and knees next to Dew scrubbing at the red paint with a hard-bristled brush. “Clearly not. Look at those eyes: no thoughts just vibes.”

Phantom threw some of the soapy water at Swiss, in turn earning himself a middle finger. “I didn’t have time to study, remember? I was just thrown straight into life here after Aether…” Phantom trailed off, remembering how so many people in the room weren’t ready to talk about what happened. There was a brief silence while they all cast their minds back to their long lost friend.

“We clean off the old pentagram,” Dew said, clearly exasperated by his Satanic brothers, “because we don’t know what kind of ritual our Siblings performed before we got here. Cleaning the floor allows us to better control the safety of our ritual.”

“What could happen if we don’t clean up?” Phantom asked. “Moreover, what would happen if we just built upon these lines?”

“Oh come on, Phantom.” You said. “Even I know that.” Phantom got on his knees and began scrubbing away the paint on his third of the pentagram. “The cross energy between rituals and magic opens up a gateway for negative energy to come through. Sometimes that energy is just bad karma or bad luck, and you have one hell of a week.”

Swiss, “Literally.”

You continued, “Or it’s the souls of the damned coming through, or worse, demons.”

Phantom, “Has the Dark One ever travelled through these portals?”

Dew, “Probably. But He doesn’t do it often.”

“What I still don’t understand is why demons and damned souls would want to hurt us, we’re all on the same side, after all.”

Mountain, “Catholicism. You give energy to things you believe in, which in turn makes it more powerful, right?” Phantom nodded. “This is why Lucifer Himself wouldn’t come to harm us because we love and worship Him as a friend, a lover, a brother etc. But according to Catholicism, why does Hell exist?”

“To punish bad people after they die.”

“And what do we know happens to these bad people when they spend an eternity being tortured by demons?”

“They become demons themselves.”

“Good boy, have a Scooby snack.” Mountain threw a packet of mini-Oreos at Phantom, who caught it with one hand.

Rain, “Some of those bad people become demons, not all of them. The majority of demons are created by Lucifer as assistants to Him, and they’re usually picked from the petty criminals rather than genocidal maniacs and bigoted pricks. Like Mephistopheles, for example. He was just a businessman before he died. Think Ebenezer Scrooge, but in real life. Stole from the poor to put in his back pocket. In comparison to say, I don’t know, Stalin, he wasn’t too bad of a guy. If Mephistopheles showed up, we would have a great time sending him back. We’d just have to watch our wallets.”

Phantom, “And if it’s one of the dangerous ones, it would be catastrophic?”

Dew, “Absolutely. Papa and the Clergy would have to get involved. Papa would have to contact the Olde One directly to come and drag the beast away. Contacting the Olde One with the ritual that Papa would need could put Papa in mortal danger. So, we clean to save Papa as well as ourselves. So, make sure you get every spot, you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

That was the first mistake made that night: no one double checked before the paint went down that the previous paint had been cleaned completely. From eye-level, everything looked squeaky. But what none of you realised at the time was there were small, insignificant specs of paint left in Swiss’ third. Insignificant specs, but by no means safe.

The second mistake was that when the candles were being placed on the freshly painted pentagram, one of them wasn’t precisely sat atop one of the points. The candles usually acted as an extra barrier of protection, essentially trapping something inside the pentagram if it came through uninvited. Lower level demons or spirits could still be trapped if the candles weren’t precise, but the higher level ones wouldn’t be stopped.

The five Ghouls were there to conduct the ritual on Papa’s behalf, you were there to provide the energy to allow them to do so. This wasn’t your first ritual and so you had no problems at all getting completely naked in front of the five men you considered to be close friends, and sitting in the centre of the pentagram. You’d been part of these rituals before with them, if you hadn’t already had a few of them balls deep inside you on multiple occasions beforehand. And so when they had all joined hands, you had no shyness or reservations about spreading your legs and exposing yourself to them. This would be the third mistake.

Swiss wasn’t concentrating fully. If you’d have opened your eyes and looked at your friends holding hands around you as they chanted, you would have seen Swiss looking directly at you with his mouth open, watching as you touched yourself surrounded by men. You would have seen that he was concentrating on your hands toying with your clit more than chanting the Latin required to safely perform the ritual. You could have stopped the ritual because of it - but you didn’t. You didn’t know that there was a problem.

Your head was thrown back in pleasure as your fingers worked over your clit. Your body was draining of energy the closer and closer you got to orgasm. In your line of sight, you could see Rain looking back at you but his mouth reciting the Latin he’d learned. You couldn’t see Rain’s eyes, though you were desperate to know what he looked like under there right now. All eyes were on you, and it turned you on so much to know that you were being intensely watched by five masked men as you dipped two fingers into your cunt and began to hit your g-spot.

Masked men, the fifth mistake.

Had they all removed their masks, everyone would have seen the biggest problem in the room: Swiss. Not only had he stopped chanting in order to concentrate on your wetness, but his head had begun twitching. Had he not worn his mask, others would have seen his eyes glaze over and roll back into his head. They’d have noticed the white dimming into pitch blackness. They’d have been able to break the circle and preemptively send the demon back to Hell before it could fully appear in the real world. But as hot as the masks were, and as much as you loved looking at them, they were impractical and unsafe for private rituals.

The air grew thick with an unholy presence, and a palpable darkness descended upon the ritual site. The very ground seemed to tremble beneath your feet as a foul wind swirled around you, extinguishing the candles one by one.

As the ritual reached its zenith, a sudden surge of malevolent force swept through the circle, causing you all to recoil in terror. Swiss let out a deep, yet blood curdling scream causing everyone in the room to stop what they were doing and freeze, yourself included. Your wet hand now removing itself from your core and your body sitting up straight in alarm. By the time you’d focused on him, Swiss had broken the circle and was cupping his head over his helmet, as though he was in immense pain. His screaming continued as he doubled over, bent at the waist and yelling at the floor. Swiss’ voice, now filled with an otherworldly resonance, grew louder and more insistent, his body trembling with an eerie energy. One of his hands began to hit at the mask in an attempt to stop whatever was causing him so much discomfort.

“Swiss!” Dew shouted, running over to his friend. “Brother, focus! Come back to us! Phantom! Go get help, now!”

Phantom nodded and ran out the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Swiss, it’s me: it’s Dew. What’s wrong, brother?”

“My… head!” Swiss exclaimed through gritted teeth. “It’s in my head!”

You stood up and dressed yourself, making sure that at least your habit was covering you. All the while, you watched as Dew frantically tried to get answers out of his brother, and figure out what went wrong so he could help. Swiss was still screaming, still trying to escape out of Dew’s grasp.

Then silence.

Swiss stood straight. Still. No more screams of pain, no more frantic Dew. You couldn’t even hear the world outside the ritual room. Just maddening silence that could drive a person to insanity if they were in it for too long. Everyone remained unmoving, fearing even breathing in case it triggered something. You wanted to leave, to escape the room and get help - or even just pull your friends out and save them. But your body wouldn’t move. It wouldn’t respond to your brain’s pleas to get the fuck away.

In that chilling moment, a grotesque transformation overtook Swiss. His voice, now distorted and filled with malice, spoke words that were not his own. It was a demon that had taken hold of him, a malefic entity summoned from the abyss.

The demon had been called forth by all of the mistakes made that night. It reveled in the chaos and despair that surrounded it, relishing the opportunity to wreak havoc upon the mortal realm. With Swiss as its vessel, the demon’s power knew no bounds.

The demon’s dark presence continued to grow, casting a sinister pall over the entire Ministry. Outside of the room, a sense of unease began to spread. Siblings and Ghouls alike could feel the malevolence that radiated from the heart of the Ministry, an unnatural darkness that seemed to seep into their very souls. It was as if the very fabric of reality had been torn asunder, and the boundary between the mortal realm and the abyss had grown thin.

Everyone was simply afraid to speak, to move, to even breathe. There was a comfort in the silence that couldn’t be explained other than Swiss hadn’t attacked anyone or made any movements. You weren’t even sure if Swiss was still in there. No one move, no one blink, no one make any sounds.

Swiss moved first - his head shifting from Ghoul to Ghoul to you as though he were studying you all. He seemed more like a caged animal than a human as he weighed up his options, though he wasn’t entirely registering what he was seeing. Each room was designed with at least some kind of demonic suppressor so you knew whoever had stolen Swiss from you didn’t have the full extent of his powers. But as he’d barely done anything, you still couldn’t gauge just how dangerous he was.

Suddenly, Swiss’ eyes locked onto you and focused on nothing else. Your body was still very scantily clad in your habit, your legs fully on display even though you were hiding behind Mountain. Swiss’ mouth curled up into a sinister smile. “He likes you.” Two voices emerged from his throat, the first being Swiss’ sweet timbre, the second the demonic entity inside of him. “I am in his head. I know. I see.” He took a small step forward. “He has sinned against you. He does so nightly.” Another step. “He imagines things in his chambers when he is alone. He wants to bury himself deep inside you. Even today during the ritual, he considered getting on his knees and taking you in front of everyone.” Another step. That was when you all realised the final mistake: you.

Swiss got possessed because he was watching you masturbate in front of him. He got possessed because he was craving your body, your touch. He got possessed because he was concentrating on how you’d feel wrapped around him and didn’t pay attention to the most important things. You never should have been chosen for the ritual. You never should have agreed.

Swiss spoke again. “I think we should give him what he wants, don’t you?”

“You stay away from her!” Dew shouted. He’d gained enough confidence and bravery to step forward, arms outstretched, and ready to restrain Swiss. Or at least attempt to anyway. Dew was much, much smaller than Swiss, so even when he wasn’t possessed by a demonic entity, restraining him alone would have been damn near impossible. But the added power now coursing through Swiss’ human veins made restraint way more difficult.

All Swiss had to do was lift his hand and Dew was levitating from the ground. A simple push saw Dew flying backwards, his head smacking against the wall and his body falling limp to the floor.

“Dew!” Rain shouted. It was a natural reflex done out of fear and it caused him to lurch forward. The demon, presuming Rain had moved to attack him, copied the motion and threw Rain against the wall too, the sweetest of all the Ghouls now unmoving on the other side of the room.

Mountain still held you behind him and for every step the demon took towards you, Mountain moved you backwards. You could tell he was trying to move you towards the door without taking his eyes off of Swiss. But deep down you both knew that while Mountain was a worthy opponent for Swiss, he was no match for the thing possessing him. All Mountain could do was hope that you at least got out of the room safely especially now that the demon had its eyes on you.

“Give her willingly and your life will be spared.” Swiss’ two voices cut through the panicked silence.

“No.” Mountain said.

Swiss raised his hand into a fist and concentrated on Mountain. Mountain, like the others, was now being raised off the ground, but this time Swiss was being torturous, enjoying the pain he was inflicting internally. Mountain grasped at his throat as if a hand had been wrapped around it, and struggled to get air into his lungs. “___,” he choked out, “go!”

Somehow your body responded to the sound of his voice and you made a break for the door. There was a part of you that knew you’d never reach it - that knew you’d end up in a worse fate than your friends, but you still tried anyway. Maybe if you left, you would be able to find more help to bring. Maybe you’d run into Phantom or Papa, just someone who could come and save everyone. You refused to believe that they were all dead - you would have given up if you thought that. So for all the good it did you, you chose to run. You chose to fight as best you could.

Behind you, Mountain’s body thudded to the floor, but you could hear him gasping for breath. Swiss, who was now focussing on you trying to make your escape, didn’t put the full extent of his powers into hurting Mountain as he did Dewdrop and Rain. Mountain was weakened from the impact but he wasn’t unconscious… yet. But now you had no protection - now you were completely vulnerable.

You managed to get the door open, but by then, it was too late, Swiss had already come up behind you and slammed it shut again. His large hands grabbed onto your waist, thick fingers digging into your flesh and manoeuvring you to where he wanted you. Your own back slammed against the door and you were met with Swiss’ cold, unfeeling mask, glass eyepieces only showing a glimpse of the blackened eyes that had completely stripped away the humanity from one of your closest friends. His once beautiful smile brought you nothing but happiness now evil and no doubt the last thing you’d ever see. You struggled, fighting against the unholy strength that had caught you, but of course, you were no match for him - in fact, he seemed to enjoy you struggling. In your frantic movements, your hip grazed his and you felt his cock now standing hard beneath his Ghoulish uniform. You knew what was coming.

He cackled, the two voices giving a creepier edge to something so joyous. His free hand came to remove the helmet and allowed you to gaze at the face that was going to bring you so much pain. His eyes were, indeed, as black as you’d been told. Veins were popping from beneath his skin, no doubt Swiss straining from the inside to expel the demon from within but failing miserably. Even though you could hear it wasn’t Swiss, and you could see the eyes certainly weren’t his, it was so difficult to differentiate between demon and human. Your brain struggled reminding you that Swiss wasn’t the one who’d hurt your friends; that he wasn’t the one rubbing his clothed cock against your thigh; that his hand wasn’t squeezing one of your soft breasts so painfully hard; that it wasn’t his tongue licking a stripe from your neck to your ear.

You pushed against his large chest trying to distance yourself, but it was as if you were trying to move the Ministry itself. He wasn’t budging. “Get. Off. Me!” You grunted in your exertion.

“This Ghoul wants you - you would deny him? You would deny him after the show you put on for him?”

“There was no show!”

“Really? Because you angled your body to give him the perfect view of,” the hand that was on your breast now moved to your crotch and gripped your vulva tightly - so tightly you screamed, “this cunt. You wanted him to touch you. You were asking for him to take you. Begging for it, were you not?”

“I wasn’t!”

“Lying whore!” He slapped your face hard enough to leave a mark, the bite knocking you off kilter for a second and making the room spin. He grasped hold of your cheeks and forced you to look at him. He took his opportunity to kiss you, forcefully pressing his mouth to yours and using his tongue to lick over your unresponsive lips. Taking this opportunity, you kneed him in his crotch now extra sensitive from all the blood that had pooled there. This gave you enough respite from his attack to push him away from you and attempt an escape. The door was locked shut this time, though. And it didn’t matter anyway, he was faster than you thought.

His thick forearm wrapped around your neck and pulled your body flush against his. “You like pain, hm?” This time, when he spoke, he used only Swiss’ voice. He tightened his arm and began cutting off the air supply to your lungs. “You want me to make it hurt?”

“Swiss!” You choked from his anaconda-like grasp. “Stop!”

“He cannot help you now, little one. But I have made sure he can see everything.”

With one hand on your shoulder, he released you from his chokehold long enough to push you hard to the ground. As you stumbled and collapsed, you felt the skirt of your habit rising up over your bare ass cheeks, which earned another menacing snicker from the demon. “Look at you. The little Jezebel is ready for her master’s cock.”

“No!”

You got onto your hands and knees ready to stand and run, but you felt Swiss’ boot on your exposed backside and stamping you back down flush to the floor. Wasting no more time or effort, he straddled your hips to keep you pinned down and pressed his entire weight onto you. Over the sound of your struggling, you heard his jeans zipper undoing.

“Still some energy in you, I see.” He taunted as he placed his hands where his thighs were and moved further down your body, still fighting you. “I wonder how long that will last.”

You braved a look behind you to see if there was anything further you could do, but caught a glimpse of what Swiss was sporting under his clothes. Now he was fully exposed, you truly saw his length and girth for what it was and dread pooled in your stomach. The pain you were about to feel was beyond terrifying.

“Which hole should we rape?” Swiss asked, lining himself up with your ass and rubbing against the rim. “This one?”

“No! Please! Let me go!”

“Or this one?” He then rubbed over the entrance to your cunt and gasped. “She is wet! The whore is ready to accept Satan’s gift! She wants it even though she deludes herself otherwise.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Ghoul, which hole do you fantasize about the most, hm? Which one do you want us to rape today?” There was silence for a moment and you could swear you heard Swiss’ screams - similar screams to when he was first possessed. “Her tight, little cunt hm?”

He lined up once more with your hole, and you tried again to escape from underneath him. “Swiss! Please stop! Please! No!” Your wriggling proved useless when you felt him press inside you.

The pain was beyond anything you’d felt before, a searing white hot pain that shot through your entire body and only continued the more of him entered you. He wasn’t gentle with his movements, as expected from a demon. He bottomed out almost immediately, hitting your cervix roughly and causing you to scream. “He was right,” Swiss said, “you do feel incredible. This hole was made for cock, no wonder he spent all his time drooling over you.” He pulled out and thrust back in laughing at your pain-filled scream. “I have kept him awake so that he can remember this gift the Unholy Father has bestowed. More material for him to think about in the darkness of his room.”

“Please, stop!” Your voice was high pitched now and tears were staining your cheeks as your hands covered your mouth to muffle your cries. Your distraught sobs caught the demon’s attention, however, and he wanted his gratification.

He wrapped Swiss’ hand in your hair and tugged your face off the floor. Your mouth was hung open from your weeping and your screams escaped every time he thrust in and hit your cervix. “That is right, scream for him. Let him know how good you feel on his cock.” The sound of your cunt swallowing him made him speed up his movements, entirely enthralled by your body accepting him properly. “Show him how you love being raped by his fat cock.”

“P-please stop!”

He groaned. “Keep begging for me to stop. Keep crying for me. You get tighter every. Single. Time.” He thrust between each word, getting rougher and rougher with you.

With his hand in your hair, your head was lifted and you could look around the room. As your body was pushed along the floor by the power of his hips, your tears blurred your vision but you could still see your friends laying lifeless in front of you - spread in all manner of ways. None of them could save you. None of them could help you. If they were even alive. Your thoughts turned to Phantom, outside of this room searching for someone to come and exorcise the demon back to Hell. Your fear became overpowering at the thought of the sweet newcomer walking in and seeing you pinned beneath Swiss, being raped by someone you all used to love and trust. Would anyone else understand that this wasn’t Swiss hurting you? Would Swiss even survive the exorcism?

In a moment of adrenaline from the fear you felt, you shifted your body using all the strength you could muster. You wrapped your legs around his calves, swung your arm to hit his face and proceeded to turn as if you were about to lie on your back. Swiss didn’t anticipate this and so slipped out of you for a brief moment, falling off of you. Wasting no time, your weak legs forced you onto your feet and you ran towards the door once more. Your brain was clearer than before allowing you to unlock the door this time. But as you opened it, once again, Swiss pushed it closed.

“Clearly I have not broken you yet.”

By the collar of your habit, he pulled you back to give him the space to stand in front of you. His hand, now tightly closed in a fist, backhanded your cheek and all you saw was black.

When you came to, your jaw ached so badly. Your vision was blurred and it took a while to come to. Your hands were held above your head as you lay on your back, a large hand holding them together and restraining you. As your head was turned to its side, you saw Mountain and Rain laying next to each other, still entirely unconscious and unmoving. But you were still being attacked.

Now that you were pinned to the floor, and had been out for you didn’t know how long, Swiss had chance to fully savour you. Your habit had been torn town the middle, exposing you completely to the demonic eyes you were now staring into, those very eyes entranced by the way your breasts bounced from the roughness of his thrusts. His cock was now spearing into you much harder than before, the position allowing him to fuck into you deeper. His pubic mound was grinding against your clit as he pounded away, and for the first time that night you were feeling pleasure with the pain.

“I knew you wanted this.” Swiss said from above you upon hearing the small pleasured whimper that escaped you. “I knew you were a whore who loved getting raped. How you would spread your legs for anyone who offered you a bit of attention. I am not wrong, am I?” You moaned again accidentally, this time louder. “Say it. Tell me how much you love it. Tell him that you love it when he rapes you.” When you didn’t obey, he wrapped his hands around your throat. “Say it!”

“I love it!” You shouted reluctantly. “I love being raped!”

Somehow this wasn’t a lie. Since waking up, every hit against your cervix, every drag of his cock against your walls felt delicious. The demonic black of his eyes, the thick hands that held you down had you spreading your legs wider to let him continue abusing your hole. You were getting wetter and wetter with each thrust, more desperate to cum than ever before. You fear dissipated and was replaced with nothing but cock. The weight of it driving you crazy, the way he used you for his own pleasure and revelled in your agony. How he lowered himself to lick your tears away and bury himself inside you over and over again.

“There you go. That was not difficult. You got so much tighter too.”

Your screams turned from pain to desperation. Your mouth hung open in a perfect O. His cock had broken you, stripped you of everything and turned you into his own, personal toy. You sat up as much as you could to see where you both were connected. You saw the base of his cock was rimmed with white where your wetness had turned to cream and stuck in his pubic hairs. Each pull out of you had multiple strings of your own juices forming and snapping. You could feel yourself spilling out of your hole and running down your body, gathering on the wooden floor below you. Fuck! It felt so fucking good.

“Will you cum on his cock? Will you cum on the cock that rapes you?”

“Yes!” You screamed looking back up into his eyes. “I’m gonna c-cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-!”

The door opened right as your orgasm hit, your mind clouding over and drool dripping from your mouth as you came all over Swiss’ cock. The last thing you remember seeing was Papa Copia’s eyes look into yours in horror as you came like a desperate whore while your close friend took you against your will. Then the world went black.

When you came to, your eyes refused to open at first. Your head was pounding from the physical trauma and there was a deep-seated pain in your core that sent stabbing pains through your legs every time you moved them.You groaned and tried to sit up but your body refused to respond. The heart monitor beside you kept bleeping letting you know that you were, in fact, alive, but also that you were currently in the infirmary. But there was another sound coming from the foot of your incredibly uncomfortable bed. When your eyes finally opened it took you a while to fully process what you were seeing.

Swiss.

In a moment of pure fear, you panicked and tried to move further up the bed, as far away from him as you possibly could. You could feel a scream building in your throat, but your jaw hurt you too much to move it. Even still, your fear didn’t care. Swiss’ eyes were back to normal, and glassy with unshed tears. His face, pale and sickly, stained with the tears he had cried. He looked awful - his veins tinted a little black from the pressure of the demon inhabiting his body.

“Please, don’t scream!” He said quickly. “It’s me again. The demon’s gone.” You wanted to open your mouth and ask him what he was doing there, but your jaw wouldn’t move. “Your jaw isn’t broken, but it’s badly bruised from where I…” He started crying again, burying his head on your bed. “I’m so fucking sorry!” He wept hard, your heart breaking for him every time you saw his shoulders violently shake. “I hurt you so b-bad. I’m so sorry! I d-didn’t want to do any of th-those things. I tried - I tried to stop but it was t-too… strong. It w-wasn’t me!”

Deep down you knew it wasn’t. You knew Swiss would never hurt you like that because he never had. He’d never shown that level of ferocity and violence to anyone or anything. He was the kindest soul in the Ministry - a ray of sunlight the morning after a storm. Before all of this, you would have trusted him with anything, your life included. But even though reason told you he wasn’t the monster that attacked you, your brain still registered him as the attacker. When you saw his eyes before he hid them, you could have sworn for a brief moment they were still black. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him that it was okay and you forgave him even though there wasn’t anything to forgive. But there was such a hesitation. An annoying voice in the back of your head saying “what if”? What if that really was him? What if they didn’t exorcise the demon out? They must have otherwise he’d be in chains in the dungeons right now. So, you reached your hand out and touched his head, gently stroking at his hair. Tears were falling down your face too as your brain replayed the trauma.

When you both had calmed down a little, and Swiss was no longer hiding his face from you, you both sat in silence staring at each other. You were studying his face for imperfections and signals that he was unsafe, and he was studying yours for any hints of fear that should tell him he needed to go. “I know it’s selfish of me being here.” He said. “It only happened yesterday. I’m not supposed to be here. Papa’s going to come and talk to you when you’re feeling stronger, he wants you to decide my punishment.”

You shook your head. You didn’t want to punish him.

“Everyone else is fine. Dew has a broken shoulder but he’ll live. Rain has concussion. Mountain’s up and out of the infirmary with no problems at all.” Your mind cast itself back to yesterday, watching Swiss barrel through them and throw them around like children’s toys. How helpless you felt when he was inside you and they were all in the room, knocked out from his attack. How none of them helped you.

“I shouldn’t have come but I needed to see you. I feel so guilty. I…” he hesitated. “I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. I felt everything the de- he did to you. I heard everything, saw everything, felt everything. And you felt so… especially when… fuck! I know I shouldn’t but I keep remembering and my body reacts. I’ve used my hand so many times since but nothing compares to… I need it. I need you. One more time. Please.”

There was a feeling of dread pooling in your stomach again but you could understand where he was coming from. Since you’d been awake and your mind was showing you the images from yesterday, you were also losing your mind. You remembered everything in graphic detail, especially how good it felt when you woke up on the floor. Arousal began to replace the dread and your thighs rubbed together, making you hiss in pain. But the pain and the arousal seemed to control you, and for some reason unbeknownst to you, you nodded your head.

Swiss didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled back the comforter and climbed onto the bed. He lifted up the infirmary nightgown you were wearing and exposed your abused hole to him. You could see his cock tenting through his own nightgown at the sight of you. You were so broken and vulnerable, and it did things to him he knew he’d feel guilty for later on. But he just couldn’t resist any longer. It was like he was addicted to you. To it. “I can’t promise I’ll be gentle.” He told you. He lifted your gown further up to expose your breasts again before pulling himself free and lining himself up. You wanted to tell him to not be gentle, to disrespect you like he had yesterday, but the words couldn’t come out.

Pushing into you, you felt the same searing pain you felt the first time he did. You were so under prepared yesterday and even more so today. But after a few uncomfortable thrusts, the pleasure returned once more, and your hands, now finally responding, flew to his shoulders and grasped on, digging your nails into his skin.

His mouth had hung open and his own grunts and moans were escaping as he lost himself in the pleasure and the memory of your fear. You were deprived of this yesterday - and you were convinced that if you’d heard how good he felt, you’d have given up fighting long before you did.

“You feel even better than yesterday.” He muttered. His thrusts got rougher and you could feel the infirmary bed moving beneath you, groaning at the weight and the intense movement. “I kept thinking about how wet you got. The way you creamed on my fucking cock. I came twice to that thought alone. Fuck!”

Though your jaw was in pain, you were still able to whimper from the feeling of his fat cock railing you in a similar fashion to yesterday. Your own noises kept spurring him on.

“And when you screamed, yelling out how much you loved me raping you. Fucking hell. I want to hear it again. I want to hear you beg me to rape you over and fucking over. I want to keep you speared on my cock and make you cum on it because I just won’t stop raping you.”

You tightened at the thought, which made him let out a particularly loud moan.

“You want that, too?”

You nodded.

“Fuck. You want me to turn you into a little fucking rape toy, hm? A fuck-slut that’s only good for taking my fucking cum against her will. Have you beg me to stop while also sucking my cock back into your little hole.”

You dug your nails in again which prompted his hips to smack forward and whack your cervix.

“I’ll do it. Shit. I’ll find you when you’re out of the infirmary and I’ll force you to the fucking floor. I’ll take what I want from you when I want. You want that?”

You nodded.

“Fucking hell, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum again. I came inside you yesterday too. They had a hard time pulling me off you. I just kept holding onto your hips and railing you into the floor. I’m gonna keep doing it now. Use you as my fucking cum receptacle. Rape a baby into you too. Show everyone who this hole belongs to.”

You tightened and moaned again.

“I went feral when they pulled me off of you and I saw my cum spilling out. Proof that I’d - fuck I’m cu-cumming!”

Once again he pushed himself as far into you as he possibly could and stilled, painting your walls with his seed.

No one else had ever made you feel that good before. The fact that he was recreating the shared trauma also did things to you that you couldn’t quite explain. You knew he was suffering as much as you were, that the guilt was eating away at him in the same way the fear was. Maybe that was why you willingly spread your legs for him this time, because you needed someone who knew to make you feel good.

When he’d finished, he watched himself spilling out of you. “Fuck…” he lamented. “No tissues. You didn’t cum.”

You wanted to tell him not to bother, that a nurse might show up midway through. You knew how bad it would look that the man who’d raped you had come back for seconds not twenty-four hours after the incident. But even if you could speak, he wouldn’t listen.

He bent down and placed his tongue in your hole, licking his cum out of you. He swirled his tongue around your cunt, trying to find the parts of you that would tip you over the edge. Once he’d determined that you were clean enough, he moved up to your clit and sucked. Hard. It was like he knew that his treatment of you yesterday meant that you needed it rough today too, and so he did his best to deliver. He didn’t let up until you came on his face, your own juices spilling out of you. You did your best to muffle the scream that was threatening to come out of you as you tipped over the edge, hyper-aware of the fact that a nurse could come rushing in to make sure you were okay. Swiss knew this too and so finished up as quickly as he possibly could.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?”

You nodded and watched him press a kiss to your temple, completely juxtaposing his treatment of you both yesterday and today before making his exit back to his own ward.

You watched him leave and let your eyes wander around the room. That was when you noticed it and froze in panic. There was a security camera in the top corner of the room… and it had just captured everything.

Kinktober: Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

Hellish Delights:

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[gravedigginbbydoll]

Phantom of the Night

Phantom! Eddie x Fem! Reader Smut Blurb

AN: Hello! I am a huge POTO fan, and obsessed with men in masks. I wanted to write this for fun and for spooky season. It's a length and smut filled blurb. I'm sorry about the college of pictures not being as inclusive as I'd like (it's hard asf to find POTO aesthetic in varying body types :/ ) but promise that the description is vague and meant for anyone AFAB or feminine leaning :) (psst: this ones for my ghouls @eddies-house @xxhellfiregirlxx @ghost-proofbaby who I adore and feed my delusions lol)

Warnings: MDNI! mature themes, dubcon, vouyerism, somnophilia, mentions of exhibitionism, corruption kink, bondage, biting, oral, penetration, virginity, loss of innocence, masks, dom! Eddie, posessive, body worship, stalking and obsession, kidnapping, etc.

As a child, you had been brought up in the exquisite opera house that your town boasted of, your father taking you often to see the shows and ballets performed there. He was a violinist, a talented one at that, and had many close friends who performed at the opera. Growing up, it was just the two of you. Your mother had grown deathly ill when you were five. She passed there soon after, leaving you and your father alone. In womanhood now, you sensed that he brought you to the opera so often rather than get you a nanny to distract you with elaborate performances in order to hide your fearful loneliness that a young girl got with losing her mother. 

But now you were a woman, a member of the opera yourself in the corps de ballet, your years of training under Karen, your father’s old friend, finally coming into play. You took the job soon after your father's death when you turned 20, desperate to keep the estate he left you and not leave the home and comfort of the opera house. Besides, you loved ballet and the elegance it left you feeling, despite the pain. But it was nothing compared to your true love. Singing. Music. 

Your father had you take singing lessons as a young girl, but those lessons were now lost in years of memories. You tried to practice alone but felt off-pitch. It was disheartening. You mostly had done so as a hobby rather than a real-life pursuit of the stage, not believing yourself to be skilled enough. You kept it hidden from the rest of the troupe, embarrassed over what they would say about a grown woman attempting to learn to sing and having daydreams of the stage. 

Which is what led you to this point. You had found a few places to practice in the opera house, the building so old that there were many hidden passageways and nooks and crannies. You often tried to use these locations in order to practice. Your betrothed, Steven, constantly scolded you and claimed one day you would get lost and no one would be able to find you in the maze that was the opera house. (Steven meant well, but could sometimes be more like a mother hen.) Still, you found yourself overwhelmed by curiosity and in need to explore more and more of the building. 

You looked around, curious to see if anyone was nearby. You had found this entrance behind a mirror in a makeup room, the dark and almost damp hallway confusing you. You walked on further, the long skirts of your white gown brushing the cold stone floor, probably dirtying the edges. You held the candle you used as a light in a shaky hand, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the chill. This place reminded you of dreams you so often had involving a dark dim cave, some mysterious yet enchanting man…no, creature…whisking you away with his lulling voice and seductive tones. You felt your heart race and your thighs squeeze together at the thought. 

You were ashamed of these dark desires. You were always told that women weren’t meant to feel lust. Ballerinas were not meant to daydream about dark and haunting shadowy figures whisking them away into the night against their will. That was why you were so passive in your arranged engagement with Steven. What did it matter that you felt not a bit of swirling desire for the man if you were not meant to? He had good money and was kind and treated you well, despite your less-than-normal childhood. Maybe after the wedding, you could squash all these horrid and sinful feelings in your belly. 

While lost in thoughts, you heard a gust of wind brush by you, the sudden draft blowing out your candle. You gasped, your heart racing as you caught the sudden flash of movement by you, fear squeezing up your throat. The figure moved in a flash, clearly tall and lean. 

“Hello? Who goes there?” You called out, willing yourself to swallow down the frightful feelings in your belly. 

Nothing could be heard but the faint drip of aging pipes and the rustle of the wind in the ancient hallways. You sighed, turning back to where you came from. Perhaps Nancy was correct and you could stand to stop reading things filling your head with the idea of monsters lurking in the night. 

You laid on the gaudy chaise lounge, restless and unable to sleep. Karen, in an attempt to be motherly with you, was earlier discussing ‘wifely duties’ with you, well aware that your education on the matter was crude at best from the words you heard other girls in the corps giggle over. Or occasionally, the male singers would boast of their escapades. She filled you with this idea that women were to lay there to be for their husbands and bear children. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting more. For the past few months, you had been…exploring your own desires. You found you couldn’t sleep without it. And yet…

Tonight you were staying at the opera in an attempt to curb the dark desires in your belly. You knew nothing of a man’s touch but did not want to sully Steven with your lustful and seductive thoughts. You hoped staying in a room not your own would discourage your brain from such thoughts.

You agreed with Karen to stay in the private dressing room, despite the fluttering gasps of your peers in the corps. There were rumors of a dark figure that haunted the opera house, always causing mischief, running around and stealing props, leaving notes on the music sheets, and even occasionally harassing the singers by wrecking their rooms. You weren’t one for superstition, but felt also that perhaps the girls had a point. You had felt a presence near you often, something lingering but still there. 

Just as you did lying there. You were only in your nightgown, the fabric thin and not modest at all. You could feel a presence despite the room being empty. You stared at the ceiling, your heart racing and an even more sinful thought entering your head. 

What if you touched yourself with that presence watching? 

You felt the heat creep from your neck to the tips of your ears, clearly embarrassed despite the lack of company. The thought excited you, the heat growing between your legs and your nipples pebbling at the thought. You sighed, cursing yourself but knowing you could not rest without the feeling of release. 

You shakily grabbed at your skirt, pulling it up while turning to look at your reflection in the mirror. The mirror faced the chaise lounge. You felt a gasp escape your mouth as you looked at yourself. You looked…delectable. Absolutely depraved. Your eyes were dark with lust and your nightgown revealed most of your bare legs, part of it tugged down to reveal cleavage as your hardened nipples poked through the delicate white fabric. 

You began to rub at the wetness between your legs, mewling pathetically at the friction and staring at yourself losing control. You felt your mind go foggy, your wetness growing as your moans became more desperate. You felt your eyes flutter, feeling as if the presence was staring at you. And whether it was the small sip you had of wine earlier you had with Karen or the lust clouding your thoughts, you swore you could see a shadow within the mirror, a pair of warm and sultry brown eyes slightly visible. The sight of the shadow caused you to reveal more of yourself, feeling the need to put on a winning show. You threw your head back, pulling the nightgown down more to free your breasts to the chilly air as you rubbed at your clit more ferociously, your moans and whimpers growing in desperation. You felt the tension in the room grow as the feeling grew before the tension snapped, leaving you shattering to pieces.  

You panted as you came down from your high, letting yourself catch a breath and trying to fix your appearance. You turned towards the mirror slowly, your body heavy and worn. You saw only yourself. No warm or sultry eyes. No shadowy figure. Just you. You let your eyelids flutter as you head off to sleep, sure to dream of the dark presence once again. And just before you do…you swear you see the shadow flash across the mirror. But maybe it was just your tiredness affecting your sight. 

The second time you experienced the presence was another night sleeping at the opera house in order to assist Nancy with her duties in the morning, since her mother, Karen, had left her in charge of the duties this time around, scolding her about needing to be responsible. You were asleep, dreaming and tossing while imagining that dark presence looming over you, your lust creeping in. In the dream, the dark shadow was looming over you, kissing up and down you, as silent as possible. You watched as the shape kissed its way down, growling hungrily at your entrance. You couldn’t see much but felt, almost as if it were real, lapping at your sensitive clit. You woke dazed, lust pooling between your thighs as you tried to sit up, sure you were feeling something licking and sucking on the swollen bud between your thighs. A gloved hand clamped down on your eyes and prevented you from seeing who the culprit was, your heart racing. You smelled the familiar mix of cinnamon and orange peel, along with sharp notes of rum and ginger, a tonic you knew as familiar among the singers in the opera to keep their vocals sharp. You felt your thighs shake, and moans leaving your mouth despite your brain's conflicting thoughts. 

This is wrong. I don’t know this person. But…the pleasure…they are so skilled with their mouth…I’m so close.

You writhed, whimpering and attempting to escape the mouth to discover who was there, only to feel the other hand hold you tightly in place, a deep and fearful voice growling lowly. 

“Stop your infernal movement, little angel. I would like to worship this beautiful cunt to the best of my ability,” The masculine voice ground out in agitation, the words sending chills up your spine and desire to build to the breaking point. Worshiping you? Men in high society didn’t worship working women like you. You were lucky to even find a betrothal while most dancers were considered ‘low and loose’ women who needed to work in order to gain money. This man was odd and…so very skilled at making you unravel. 

You were drunk on the eroticism of it all. A stranger licking at you like a man starved of a month’s worth of meals, the inability to see his appearance, his demanding tone and forceful hand. You saw stars and felt your pleasure overcome you, your body shaking at your release that he seemed to slurp up, the noises so vulgar they would make a lady of the night blush. You lay there, eyes closed, catching your breath slowly. When your eyes finally fluttered open, you sat up, hoping to get to know the man behind your most recent confession in church, only to be met with silence, not a soul in the room. You felt your heart sink as you tried to fall back asleep, your mind swimming with thoughts of the mysterious voice and the warm, strong hands. It seemed the ghost of the opera might have been real after all. 

Nancy and the other girls in the corps began to notice your distracted gaze, your prolonged nights at the opera, and your skittishness, trying to catch a glimpse of the shadowy figure when people claimed he zipped past. You felt a strange obsession, a need to follow the dark shadow and discover who was consuming your dreams. 

You heard him at night occasionally, humming or singing. Or at least you thought it was him. It was a low and chilling sound. Your body thrummed with excitement anytime you thought you saw a flash of him in the rafters or heard a stair creak. You began to notice little gifts waiting for you in the dressing room, in your favorite nooks and crannies in the opera. Red roses and small notes in the messy script, usually referring to you as Little Angel. Nancy was worried about you, trying to escort you home often and getting Steven to dote on you more.

But you were done. Corrupted. Filthy. And you wanted nothing more than to be in the Phantom’s embrace once more. You wanted him to explore you. Ruin you. Your mind was riddled with him day and night. 

You kept it hidden from everyone, but you often explored the ancient passageways now with the intention of finding him. Occasionally you left gifts. Your most used lipstick, a snippet of a poem, a book you had just read. You would come back to the spots to find the items gone, occasionally a rose left in their place. You felt giddy, like a schoolgirl. Your ghost…your Phantom… seemed to acknowledge you. 

If only you could catch him…

It was a few months after weeks of giddy gift exchanges and running after shadows. The notes and roses stopped. The flashes of a dark figure ended. Perhaps it was a dream. Maybe you were just a fool who imagined or dreamed of the interactions. 

On a dark night, you were aimlessly wandering the halls, singing to yourself a song you remembered your father singing. You had abandoned all hope of your dear ghost coming to capture you. Free you from a loveless marriage. You were set to marry Steven next week. Abandon the opera. Become a proper lady in society. At least Steven would not be disappointed when you laid there and bled for him, giving him a child 9 months later. You sighed to yourself, twisting your engagement ring, displeased with the thing. You wandered the underground tunnels, the candlelight dim in the dark halls. You felt your heart pick up as you heard a soft yet low voice, singing aloud. Your skin erupted in goosebumps, and your heart was racing. 

“Phantom?,” You called out sheepishly. 

The singing stopped. A deep voice coming from a direction you couldn’t discern. 

“Little Angel. What is a lamb like you doing in a dangerous place like this?” called the voice, rough and cold. Was he upset with you? You were unsure. 

You felt a tug at your heart, looking around and trying to find him. “Please, Phantom. I have only one week more at the opera. I cannot bear to not feel your touch another second,” you whimpered out. 

“Ah, so you can crawl back to that insolent boy who does not deserve your glory? My heart cannot bear the rejection, Little Angel. Leave this monster be,” He growled out, still within the shadows. 

Your heart leaped in your throat as tears entered your eyes, feeling your knees wobble as you crumbled to the ground. “Please, Phantom. I cannot bear to be without you. I do not want Steven. Forgive me, please…,” You sobbed softly, your emotions in a tangled mess. 

You heard a sigh and felt yourself get grabbed from behind swiftly, a soft yelp about to leave your throat. That familiar gloved hand snuck over your eyes. 

“Alright, Little Angel. On one condition…You mustn’t, under any circumstances, remove my mask,” He warned, his tone stern. 

You nodded wordlessly, allowing him to pick you up, dropping your lit candle onto the damp floor. The light went out, but as he picked you up in his arms, you caught a brief glance of him. He was a tall and lean figure, his hair a long and curly mess, his face halfway covered by a mask. You could see his plush pink lips and long lashes, warm and enticing brown eyes. 

He was beautiful.

You were tempted to remove the mask, curious as to why such an enticing man would haunt the opera. You refrained, however, out of respect. He tied a loose piece of fabric around your eyes, shielding your vision. 

You were enthralled and scared. 

You were laid down gently on a plush cushion and fabric, the cover softly removed from your eyes. You slowly opened your eyes in a dim and candlelit room, surrounded by aging theatrical props and the most plush velvet fabrics. You were on what appeared to be a bed, the dark figure standing before you. He wore a dark and long cloak, the hood down. His shirt underneath was a silky black shirt with a wide opening, displaying his chest. He wore dark pants and what seemed to be dress shoes. The items were all of high quality but it seemed they were at least a decade old. Upon looking up at his face, you saw he wore a white mask on half of it, his lips and half of his nose visible. His features were mostly soft, though he appeared worn from the years of seclusion and hiding. 

You reached out to touch his cheek, only to have him grip your wrists. His hands were shaking. His dark eyes were swirling with desire and sorrow. Was he shaken because he needed you so fervently? 

“You cannot touch me. I cannot bear it. If you were to touch me only to marry that…that damned fool later. My heart could not take it,” He growled out, his face twisted in sorrow and pain. 

You felt a tug at your heart, your hands aching to touch him but deciding to respect his wishes. 

“Alright.” 

He got up, running over to a pile of old props from past shows, grabbing at one, and walking over to you, grabbing at your wrists before tying them quickly to the frame of the bed. Your heart began to race as your body heated up, your skin erupting in goosebumps as you bit softly at your lips. Phantom groaned softly, looming over you, his warm brown eyes stirring desire in your belly. 

“Do not make such faces, Little Angel. You are so delicate, and I fear I will become without reason,” He groaned out, his eyes intense in their desire, his expression clear that it was hurtful to hold back. 

You could feel your back arch, his stiffening member brushing against you, causing you to whimper. “Please Phantom…Abandon reason…ravage me,” You mewled, writhing under the dark figure. 

His eyes became dark, his snarl deepening as he leaned in, his expression both terrifying and enthralling. “Be careful what you wish for, Little Angel. I am not too short of becoming a monster, devouring you.” 

You whimpered, desire pooling as your eyelashes fluttered, and your body leaned towards him. Two could play at that game. “Please…I’m frightened. R-release me, monster,” You whined, writhing under the Phantom’s dark gaze. A smirk fell upon his lips, dimples evident as the smirk broke into a villainous grin. 

“Oh, you should not have wandered into my lair, Little Angel. Now I must have you,” He growled lowly, taking his gloved hands and ripping open your corset before tearing at the chemise, the fabric pooling in shreds around you, your chest heaving in fear and excitement. 

Your body was bared save for the underpants that exposed your ever-wet entrance, your legs shutting in embarrassment. The Phantom growled, kissing at your lips with hunger and desperation, moans lost on his lips. He kissed you until you gasped for air before biting, nipping, and kissing his way down, focusing on your breasts. You pinched and sucked upon your nipples, heightening your pleasure and making you writhe more under him, whimpers echoing in the cold and dim room. He bit and marked you, his movements like that of a wild beast. 

“Ph-Phantom…Master… Devour me as you have before,” You whined out, meeting his wild brown eyes behind the mask as he looked up, snarling. 

“Beg. Beg for it,” He snarled, hands continuing their tortuous teasing on your breasts. 

“P-please… Master… Dev-devour me…I beg of y-you! I beg of you. I beg of you. I beg of you…,” You babbled, brain foggy with lust and his touch. 

He grinned devilishly, his white smile making your heart race. “As you wish, Little Angel.” 

He slowly made his way down, sure to kiss and mutter praises over you the entire time, letting you know how divine you were, leaving marks with sharp bites here and there. Finally, he reached your entrance, diving in as if it were his last supper. He flicked his tongue across your clit before sucking on it, alternating that and nibbling at your inner thighs, your body writhing like a woman possessed, your eyes rolling in pleasure. 

He truly was wicked, worshiping you beyond your wildest dreams, his words meeting your ears and deepening the carnality within you. You were gone. Lost to this bodily sin. 

“So divine. I do not deserve this beautiful cunt, these heavenly breasts, your godless moans… If this is the price I pay to become Lucifer’s lackey, I will happily pay the toll,” He babbled, fingers curling up into your entrance, his mouth still latching onto your clit. 

You felt your back arch and felt a ripple through your body. You shattered around his finger, your orgasm taking over your mind. You whimpered as he continued to touch you past your high, your nerves so sensitive you felt tears come to your eyes. He stopped short, growling lowly. 

“I’m going to condemn you, Little Angel. Fill you full of my cum. Mark you as mine and mine alone. You are my pet. My divine creature,” He snarled, his face twisted as you felt a shock of fear and lust overtake you. He could have you. You were his. 

“P-please Phantom…Pl-please,” You whimpered, lip trembling in longing as your body shook with terror. 

You suddenly felt a slow thrust into your entrance, the fullness causing a sharp pain, your head thrown back in a silent cry, eyes watering. The thrusting continued at a slow pace, the Phantom’s arms shaking as he appeared to hold back. You looked up at him, the desire growing sharper in you, your dull pain now adding to the pleasure, your legs slightly writhing. You fought against the ropes, whimpering. Phantom seemed to catch on as his brown eyes met yours, something in him snapping. He began snapping his hips at a ferocious pace, making you cry out as he continued to growl but also began to whimper and moan. 

“Such a perfect cunt. A vision. They don’t deserve you. So flawless…Cannot wait to fill your belly with my seed…Corrupt and condemn such a goddess…Ravaged by a monster…What would Steven think…?”

You moaned at the suggestion, thinking of how scandalous the situation would be. Your high was coming along a lot faster as the Phantom growled in your ear, hand at your throat while squeezing the sides and cutting off air. You felt your mind panic suddenly as you writhed but moaned louder, the lightheadedness causing immense pleasure. You were so close. 

“Oh, does my Little Angel enjoy that? Would you like to put on a show for the opera? Singing that beautiful song of pleasure?” He moaned out, his thrusts getting sloppier. 

You felt yourself climb higher and higher towards release, reaching it finally when Phantom growled in your ear making you grow with a child, making everyone know you were his. You saw stars behind your eyes, your heart bursting from your chest as you panted. The Phantom chased his own high, filling you up shortly after, making you moan softly. 

You attempted to catch your breath as the Phantom went to grab you a washcloth, wiping away at the spilling fluid. He released your wrists allowing you to rub at them. You flushed, your body limp and warm, worn out by the activity. You lay beside Phantom who held you to his chest, singing softly as you drifted off. 

You woke up once in the middle of the night, Phantom asleep. You stared at his face, only noticing how much more peaceful he looked in his sleep. You bit your lip, wondering why a man would wear a mask, even during sexual activities. Curiosity always got the better of you. You reached out softly, peeling away the mask, being careful to make sure he didn’t stir. You gasped softly at the reveal. The man's half of his face seemed to have large scars as if someone had taken a chunk of flesh in a bite, perhaps an animal. His cheeks were riddled with them, and half of the tip of his nose also with a chunk missing. 

You frowned, cocking your head. Sure he wasn’t gorgeous on that side but why was he here. He just seemed a little scarred. You softly touched the scars, the Phantom twitching at the touches in his sleep. You stop for a moment but again, only to have the mysterious man's eyes flutter open and horror and realization cross his face and he shoots up and snarls at you. 

“You broke the one rule?” He growled, his eyes dark and anger-filled. 

“I didn’t mean-” 

You felt a quick hand tie you up again, the ropes had been on his side of the bed, You tugged against them, feeling panic come up your throat as he tilted your head up, eyes gleaming with villainy. 

“From now on Angel, you belong to the Phantom of the Hawkins Opera. Edward Munson. But you may call me Master,” He growled out, his eyes swimming with possession, desire, and fury, your mouth opening to let out protests and failing to make a sound. There was no escape. No way to save yourself. You were his. 

Be careful what you wish for. 

THE END?

[bigsexiest]

Phantom x Swiss sad fic w comfort at the end

For some reason, I was feeling angsty today, and Phantom is such a sad little sop to me.

word count: 2.1k

Summary: Phantom thinks he's been forgotten when the other ghouls are preoccupied with their friends, so he hides away. Swiss figures out he's missing and goes to find him.

When all the touring ghouls returned to the ministry, they were met with hugs and tearful “I missed you”s. Even Aurora, anxious about being left out, was dragged along by Cirrus and Cumulus to meet Sunshine. Phantom wanted so badly to run over with Rain and Dew to meet Aether, but he didn’t want to intrude. And anyway, if they wanted him to follow they would’ve asked.

He watched as Swiss walked over to the ghoulettes, immediately falling into friendly banter as if they’d never been separated at all. Phantom stood awkwardly to the side, wondering if anyone was going to turn around and invite him into their circles.

As the groups of ghouls started leaving, Phantom was struck with a feeling of deja vu. When he had first joined the tour, he had been freshly summoned in the ministry and then quickly shipped away with Aurora to start his job. Aurora was sweet to him, but he yearned for a pack. Dew making a point to ignore him was painful, but the ambivalence of the other ghouls was heartbreaking. They all eventually warmed to him, but Phantom still wondered if they harbored the same feelings about him.

He wondered if he could do anything to make them mad. Something that would make them so mad that they began ignoring him again. The thoughts hurt him, but they also gave him comfort. Whenever he did something bad, he used the thoughts to make himself feel better. It helped to picture the worst thing that could ever happen and know that whatever did happen would most likely be better comparatively. 

Phantom knew he hadn’t done anything bad. At least, he thought he hadn’t. Rationally, he knew the other ghouls were probably preoccupied with greeting old friends, and they’d find him eventually. He hoped.

In the back of his mind, though, a thought had started to chip away at his resolve. A small voice growing louder the longer he stood watching all the other happy ghouls. It grew angrier as more ghouls left the room with their friends, probably looking for a place to snuggle and catch up on lost time. 

The voice was telling him he was worthless. The voice was calling Phantom whiny, and bothersome. That none of the ghouls actually liked him, they only put up with him because they felt bad for him.

Phantom started to believe the voice. He had understood why Dew had gone to Aether, and he had expected Swiss to go with Aurora, they had become rather close. But he thought maybe Rain would show him around the place. It was a large building and Phantom did feel a little overwhelmed. But no, all the ghouls had found their closest pack members and Phantom was left alone on the outskirts. 

Phantom didn’t want to bother anyone asking for directions to the ghoul den. Instead, he decided to walk through the halls until either he found it or found somewhere cozy to hide. 

He just wanted somewhere dark where he could wallow in his own loneliness. He knew eventually someone must come looking for him. But he’d started to wonder how long that would take. How long until someone noticed he wasn’t standing in the background like he always was. 

He wanted to cry. Phantom just wanted a space where he could disappear for a while and not have to worry about anything. He wanted a space where nothing could hurt him, for at least a few hours. He’d probably fall asleep and feel better once he’d woken up. It had been a long drive back to the ministry and he was probably just being dramatic.

Once he had found a sufficient storage room mostly empty apart from a few large boxes, he happily shut the door behind him and climbed into a small cabinet. It was long enough for him to curl up comfortably, but it was still snug enough to offer him the support he wanted. He felt safe enough to let go of his composure.

Phantom let his limbs fall free of the tension that had been straining him and the tears he had been holding back fell. He let all of the loud sobs escape. His tail came up between his legs and the small spade at it’s tip slipped into his mouth, giving him more comfort. He drifted off into a deep sleep, hugging himself tightly.

Swiss had been enjoying his lunch with the girls. He was starving from the ride home. Aurora was an easy friend for Sunshine, since they both had the same job. Swiss was purring with satisfaction that the little air ghoulette had warmed up so nicely with the others. He had been worried for the new ghouls. He knew firsthand how scary it could be meeting new people.

He had been wondering about Phantom. Swiss thought he saw the little quintessence ghoul following Rain and Dew to Aether, but he had lost sight of him as the girls were introducing Aurora to Sunshine. He was sure they must’ve shown him around the ministry first rather than taking him straight to the dining hall. Technically there was a kitchen in the ghoul den, but the ghouls sometimes found it easier just to visit the ministry dining hall and eat with the humans.

Swiss had decided to put it out of his mind and to focus on the food in front of him. There was no reason to worry, so he happily took another bite and listened to the story Sunshine was telling about Aether. It was something funny, but Swiss immediately forgot about it when he saw Dew, Aether, and Rain walk into the room noticeably without Phantom. His brow furrowed and he waited for them to pass by to stand up and walk with them. 

Dew was less holding Aether’s hand than hanging off his entire arm, but Rain was just casually holding onto Aether’s right hand. Swiss grabbed onto Rain’s free hand.

“Hey guys,” Swiss wanted to be direct, but still friendly, “nice to see you Aether, what happened to Phantom?”

Rain stopped walking and turned his head to look at Swiss. “I thought you were gonna show him around.” He looked concerned. Aether and Dew had also stopped and looked over. Dew looked puzzled.

“No, I thought I saw him walking in with you guys, I was busy with Aurora.” Swiss was very confused. If none of the guys had shown him around, where was he now? 

Swiss figured Phantom could’ve figured out the way to the den on his own, but the thought didn’t make him feel great. The ministry was a big place, and the little bug could’ve gotten lost. Even if he did find his way to the den, how would he know which room was his? Swiss hoped his room smelled enough like him so the little ghoul could find it to hide away there until Swiss arrived.

“I saw him standing near you guys, I thought he was just waiting for you to finish introducing Aurora to Sunshine.” Dew stepped towards Swiss away from Aether. His voice sounded worried, but Swiss felt a flash of anger towards the fire ghoul. If he had seen Phantom by himself, why hadn’t he chosen to include the little bug?

But then Swiss saw the way Aether leaned forward to place a comforting hand on Dew’s shoulder. Of course Dew wasn’t paying attention to Phantom. He had just been reunited with his mate.

“I’m sure someone found him, everyone knows you guys returned today.” Aether was always good with reassurance, and Swiss could feel a touch of quintessence magic helping to calm him down. Now wasn’t the time to get angry, now was the time to find Phantom.

Aether, Dew, and Rain had agreed to help Swiss find Phantom. Aether separated from them to go find Omega to let him know Phantom was missing just in case someone brought him to the infirmary. 

Rain offered to check the ghoul den. If Phantom wasn’t there, there was a possibility another ghoul had seen him somewhere.

That left Dew and Swiss to search the rest of the ministry. Dew was going to check the upper levels quickly, while Swiss spent more time on the ground level. Phantom was more likely to either stay on the ground level than go upstairs.

Swiss was making swift progress through the rooms. The ones in use by humans or ghouls were easy, everyone fell victim to his easy charm and let him know they hadn’t seen any quintessence ghouls.

He had been trying to use his nose, looking for the little ghoul’s sweet citrus scent. Occasionally he thought he’d get a whiff, but then he’d immediately lose it amongst the other scents. He wished his nose was as good as Dew’s or Cirrus’s. It was his hearing that was much more sensitive.  

It was a good thing he had both of these senses. When he entered a small dark storage room, he wouldn’t have thought anything of the largely barren place, but something was off. The place smelled of Phantom, but it had faded in intensity. The scent was still present, but it wasn’t as bright as it normally was. Swiss wished he had spent more time telling Phantom how addicting he smelled. Swiss could spend days with his nose against Phantom’s neck, just huffing it in. He couldn’t decide if it smelt more like limes or lemons, and on some days it threw Swiss for a loop by being more orange-ish. He loved it.

The scent wasn’t the only giveaway. Swiss could also hear soft snoring coming from a cabinet at the end of the room.

Swiss quickly went to the cabinet and opened it up slowly, not wanting to startle Phantom. The little quintessence ghoul was sleeping curled into himself, facing away from Swiss. He noticed Phantom’s tail was tucked and he had his claws tightly clutching into his shoulders. It was an obvious attempt at self-soothing.

Swiss wanted so badly to grab the little ghoul and just hold him. He had really fucked up. As badly as Swiss wanted to comfort the ghoul, he was also worried about Phantom’s state of mind when he would awaken. What if Phantom didn’t want comfort? What if Phantom was angry? Swiss was ready to accept whatever responsibility fell to him. He would happily grovel in sorrow at the feet of Phantom. It was all his fault.

Swiss decided to rip off the bandaid and wake up the sleeping ghoul. Sitting on his knees in front of the cabinet, he reached out a hand to softly shake Phantom’s shoulder.

At first the quintessence ghoul didn’t respond. Eventually he woke with a flinch, seemingly unprepared to be disturbed. He quickly flipped to see who had found him, and broke down in tears once again.

Swiss wasn’t exactly expecting this, but he grabbed the little ghoul nonetheless. Lifting him out of the cabinet from under his arms, Swiss cradled the lanky ghoul in his lap against his chest, gently shushing him and telling him it was alright.

“Little bug,” speaking softly, Swiss asked, “why didn’t you come with me?” He just wanted the little ghoul to feel safe.

Phantom sniffled, his head resting just beneath Swiss’s chin. “I thought you didn’t want me.” 

“Why would you think that? Of course I want you, my sweet creature.” Swiss’s heart felt like it was snapping in two.

Phantom looked up at Swiss’s face, wanting to see if he was being genuine. “You all seemed busy with your friends, I didn’t want to interrupt you.” Phantom raised a hand to wipe at his tears.

“I thought Dew was going to show you around, but Dew thought I had you.” Swiss wanted to make sure Phantom knew no one had forgotten about him. “It was a huge misunderstanding and we were all looking for you the second we realized.”

“Really?” Phantom’s eyes went big with amazement, and he smiled for the first time since Swiss had found him. Swiss was happy to note that his scent had started to become sweeter as well.

“Yes, of course, little bug. Let’s get you to the den so they can all see you’re safe.” Swiss was beaming as well. He was glad Phantom didn’t seem too torn up. When the others all spent time cooing over him, Swiss was sure everything would be better.

“Can we nap in your room after?” Phantom asked jovially, sounding as though he’d forgotten all about the whole situation that led to him sleeping in an empty storage cabinet.

“Of course, my little cuddle bug,” Swiss said as he stood up, picking up Phantom bridal style, ready to carry the ghoul all the way to the den.

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 15th - Virginity (Papa Emeritus IV x Female!Reader)

Tags: Ghoulette!Reader, Loss Of Virginity, Cunilingus, Fingering, Gentle Sex, Praise, Friends With Benefits, 1st Person POV

I don't remember much of my summoning, only the feeling of a phantom hand reaching down and grabbing me by the tail, pulling me up painfully. I remember the whooshing sound as I ascended to the earth at incomprehensible speeds. When I arrived at my destination, my skin still felt like it was searing from the flames of the Pit. Then I remember a tall, shadowy figure approaching me, stepping into the light.

Papa Emeritus IV.

It took me a while to get used to my new physical form and the world around me, longer than most other Ghouls and Ghoulettes, but once I did, I've never felt more at home. Papa was nothing but patient with me, pulling out countless accommodations to make me feel more comfortable. Because of this, it wasn't long till he became my first official friend in the ministry.

But because of my late blooming, paired with my crippling shyness, I've yet to experience the thrills of physical intimacy. Sure, I got up to my fair share of devious activities during my time in the Pit, but that was different, when my form was nowhere close to human like, nothing more than a swirling orb of darkness beyond mortal comprehension. But now that I've been released from my hellish binds, I have been reborn, with a whole new body to lose my virginity in a second time. Something all my fellow Ghouls have accomplished within a week of being summoned, usually with each other, has taken me months to even consider. But now that I was considering it, I had only one person in mind.

Coming to Copia made me feel a little ridiculous. Though I trust him deeply, part of me feared he would laugh at my request. He of course, did not, validating my feelings and happily agreeing to be of assistance. He deeply loved and cared for all his Ghouls and Ghoulettes, past and present, and I was no exception, he told me.

Despite the countless sexual encounters I've had during the hundreds of years I have spent rotting in Hell, I was surprisingly nervous for my first time. Copia, if anything, found it endearing, noticeably spurring on his own arousal, and gently assured me that I'm in good hands. That I was already certain of, from observing the way his hips gyrate and fingers flick when he's on stage. If those moves are what he's willing to share with the public, what moves will he have in store for me?

He laid me down in his bed, which was surprisingly comfortable, despite all the crumbs that he graciously swept off for me beforehand. What a gentleman. He took his time, stripping me down, kissing every bit of flesh that became bare to him with every article of clothing he took off. He was patient, pausing in between every action till I gave him the go to continue. It was almost frustrating, the heat in my core becoming unbearable, yet he still continued at a painfully slow pace. For my sake, he claimed, even though I know he could tell I was losing my mind.

"Patience, doll. Papa will take care of you soon enough." He murmurs, pressing soft kisses on my nipples. My breath hitches at the feeling, black kiss marks from his paints littering my breasts, and everywhere else he had previously stuck his face. His hand, which was on my thigh, trails upward towards my sex, thumb delicately caressing my folds. I wiggle impatiently, causing him to chuckle against my skin. His fingers rub my clit, moving with such skill and dedication it would make Lucifer shed a tear of pride. My new body was much more sensitive than my form in the Pit, my tail waggling back and forth excitably, unable to contain myself.

"Someone's eager." Copia teases, my cheeks darkening as I start to feel a bit self-conscious. He tuts when he sees the flicker of doubt in my eyes, leaning up to press a kiss to my forehead. "It's okay, cara. I remember my first time. I came in under a minute." He laughs. "I was very eager, very nervous, put too much pressure on myself. I do not wish that for you, my sweetest Ghoulette. I want you to relax. Let's take our time to enjoy this beautiful experience fully, si?"

Finally, he starts to take off his own clothing, struggling for a moment with the tightness of his pants. He should feel lucky I didn't rip them off with my teeth. But Satanas Almighty, when I finally got to see him nude, it was all worth it. His curves, his thick tummy and thighs, his excessive salt and peppery body hair, it was all to die for. With both of our clothes discarded, I started to feel less exposed and vulnerable, more bold. I reach down to pump his cock in my hands, so thick and already twitching with desire. It made me feel flattered that this was all because of me.

He gently nudged my hand away, scootching down to where his face was hovering above my cunt. Feeling his hot breath hit my slick was enough to send a shiver down my spine, groaning softly. He runs his tongue up my slit, moaning into my pussy at my taste alone. "Papa!" I whine, attempting to squirm, but he grabs ahold of my hips, keeping me in place. "I know, cara. Papas here." He hums against me, the vibrations of his speech sending a pulse of pleasure to my clit. I need him carnally, like I've never needed anything else before.

He devoured me, tongue and fingers dipping deep within me to get as much of my wetness into his mouth as he could. If it didn't feel so fucking good for me, I would say he was doing this solely for his own pleasure. I have to hold myself back from digging my claws into his scalp, as my full, unabashed state would no doubt cause him to bleed if I did so. Instead, I dug them into the bed below me, knuckles turning pale white as I scratch holes into his sheets and his poor, goose-feather pillows. He didn't seem to care however, or at least didn't notice.

I warned him I was close, begging him desperately to stop his ministrations so my first orgasm will on his cock. But it's like he couldn't hear me, too pussy-drunk to care, or perhaps my thighs constricting around his head acted as ear mufflers. But alas, I came, the unbearable tension in my stomach finally releasing and crashing down on me like a building was just dropped over my head. I am truly the luckiest Ghoulette, I think to myself. I'm sure none of my other peers have received treatment from him quite like this, or at least, I'd like to believe so.

"Copia..." I sigh, panting wildly. "I w-wanted to cum on your cock..." I whine. A devilish smirk unfolds on his face. "And you will. You really think your Papa would leave you with just one orgasm? Tsk. I was under the impression you thought of me better, cara mia." Sitting up with a huff, positioning himself between my legs, rolling a condom on. Holy shit, it's happening. Suddenly, my nerves get the better of me, tail flicking to cover my hole before he can insert himself. His brows furrow in concern.

"Will it... will it hurt?" I shudder, worried about the fragility of my new body. Surely I lack the resilience that I had back in the Pit. And with the size of his package, I could only assume the stretch would be insane. He gazes into my eyes tenderly, his expression sincere. "It shouldn't. You're wet enough to where it should slide in easily. But if it does, you tell me and I will stop. Do you trust me?" He asked, voice quiet and earnest. I nod, moving my tail out of the way, readying myself.

He pushed inside slowly, mouth hung open and eyes shut tight in concentration, as if he was using every ounce of willpower in him not to cum on the spot. He inches his way in until hes fully bottomed out, strands of hair falling in the way of his face. If he looked this messy right now, I can only imagine how fucked up I look. This time I cannot control myself, my sharp nails finding their way to the supple flesh of his ass, digging in. Not enough to break any skin, thank goodness. I was already trembling, my last orgasm still deeply affecting me as my walls clung onto his shaft with immeasurable grip.

Once he starts, his thrusts are disappointingly shallow, giving me practically nothing. I wrap my legs around his waist. "Just give me a proper fucking already." I plead, him rolling his eyes at me with a cheeky grin. "Do you want me to last ten seconds? Calm yourself, you insatiable little minx, before I tie you down." He quips playfully. I know he wouldn't do so without my explicit consent, but the thought makes me clench around him. "I will give you what you want, when the both of us are ready to take it. I swear it, my girl." My girl. Why did that make me giggly?

He owns up to his promise. After what feels like forever of gradual build up progresses into tight, quick snaps of his hips, pounding into me like he paid for me. I hate to admit when he's right. If he started off like this, I would've came instantaneously, and most likely him too. Not to mention, I'd get sore terribly quick. "There you go," he gruffs into my ear, growling the same way he does on stage. "You got what you wanted, right doll? All it took was a little patience. There you go, baby. Taking me so good."

His praises sent a serge of pride through me, unable to help myself from smiling dazily as he grinds himself into my cunt, hitting the spot that makes me scream every time. This felt better than anything I've ever experienced, both on and under the earth. I felt truly blessed, the Dark One himself rewarding me for my dedication. When he decided to hook an arm under my leg, pressing upwards towards my shoulder to get as deep as possible, I knew I was doomed, another orgasm already building up.

"I'm- I'm close! So close!" I cry out, nearly in tears. He presses feverish kisses across my face, lingering when he gets to my lips. "Let go, cara mia." He whispered encouragingly. And just like that, the flood gates opened, another orgasm violently ripped from my body. If the last one felt like a building was dropped on top of me, this one felt like an atomic bomb, rendering me screaming and shaking like I was possessed. He follows soon after, emptying himself into the latex hanging off his cock with a satisfied groan.

As he pulls out, chucking the full condom into the trash, the room is now uncomfortably quiet without the sound of moaning and skin slapping. My ears are still ringing from the force of my orgasm, groggily turning my head to the side when I hear a rustling next to me. I giggle when I see where the source of the noise came from. A wrapper to a plastic straw. He got out a fucking juice box.

I love this man.

-

[workwithmeman]

Pairing - Mountain x Phantom, 1.4k words, mature/explicit

Tags: body worship, phantummy, phantom being a little shit, mountain being desperate, mountain finishing in like 9 seconds oops, first time writing smut sorry, not beta read

Mountain was going to lose his fucking mind.

He knew Phantom had always been pretty - from the moment he had tumbled out of the summoning circle, he was all pouty lips, angled face, and doe eyes. A little gangly and underfed, sure, but nothing that a little love and home cooked meals couldn’t fix. And he was sweet - Lord Below was he sweet. An adorable nativity paired with a penchant to please that drove Mountain insane with a need to fawn, dote on, and love the little ghoul. 

But now that they had gotten back from tour, things had only gotten worse for Mountain. Without the constant exercise of tour and the increase in lovingly prepared rich comfort foods of winter, Phantom had started to grow a little soft around the edges. What once was all prominent bones and sharp edges became gently curvy and cherubic, with softer thighs and arms and an ass that Mountain would love to bury his face in. 

But the kicker, the absolute killing blow to Mountain’s sanity, was Phantom’s fucking tummy. As he had softened, a little bit of that fat had migrated to his chest and stomach, creating the most adorable little pooch that Mountain wanted to kiss, lick, suck - anything that Phantom would allow him to. 

Sweet Satan, he was screwed. 

—-

Mountain’s day started like normal, with him gently untangling himself from Phantom’s death grip on his body and shuffling to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. In the kitchen he found Dewdrop, holding a scalding cup of coffee and heating up the water for Mountain. He offered Mountain a sleepy smile.

“Hey big guy. Sleep alright?”

Mountain grunted in response, holding his cup out to Dew wordlessly.

“Understood,” Dew chuckled, pouring hot water in to Mountain’s teacup. “Phantom keep you up last night?”

“You could say that. Little bug is driving me crazy.” Mountain gently blew on his tea.

“Oh? What did he do now?” Dew leaned back against the counter, sipping his coffee. “More video games? Another documentary?”

“Satan, I wish. It’s just fucking him, Dew, I’m losing my mind. I just want to hold him and never let go.”

Dew laughed again. “Wow Mount, never thought I’d see the day someone made an honest woman out of you. It’s a good look.”

“Who’s making an honest woman out of Mountain?” Phantom’s sleepy voice called from down the hall. “I want to help.”

As Phantom appeared in the doorway, Mountain’s mouth went completely dry. In his bat boxer briefs and bat wing hoodie, Phantom looked good enough to eat. Mountain wanted to mark him, claim him, fuck him, break him, and then put him back together again. He wanted to grab him and steal him back to their room and spend hours eating the poor boy out until he cried. Fuck. Mountain needed to get his shit together. 

“Oh, um, hi bug. H-how did you sleep?” Mountain stammered. Phantom chuckled and walked over to him, tucking himself against Mountain’s chest and kicking up a gentle purr. 

“Like a rock. Your cuddles and your tea always make me go out like a light.” Phantom nuzzled against Mountain’s neck before pulling away to the cabinet where the tea was kept. 

As he stood on his tiptoes to reach his favorite box of tea, his hoodie rode up a little, revealing a sliver of dark purple belly, just sticking out a bit over his boxers. Mountain looked up from his sip of tea, only to spit it out all over Dew, coughing heavily.

“What the fuck, Mount, are you trying to infect me with your earth ghoul cooties? Fuck off with that shit,” Dew yelped. He looked down at himself, now covered with a healthy spray of earl grey. “Ah, shit. Now I have to change my fucking shirt.”

Dew walked out of the kitchen past a sheepish Mountain and a bewildered Phantom, yanking off his shirt as he went. 

“You alright there, Mounty? Everything OK?” Phantoms big purple eyes stared up at him, taking his breath away.

Mountain flushed up to his horns. “U-uh yeah, bug. Just choked a little bit. Sorry if I scared you.” Phantom rolled his eyes.

“Just glad you’re not dying, you big dummy. I love you too much to watch you choke to death on leaf water.”

Mountain smiled, tugging Phantom back into his chest. “I love you too, bug. I love you too.”

——

As their day progressed, Mountain slowly became more sure that Phantom was intentionally trying to drive him insane. The way he’d slowly bend over a laundry basket in front of Mountain and turn around and smile teasingly, the way he’d lift his sweater up over his head and make sure his t-shirt was stuck to it, the way he’d brush up against Mountain when they were working side by side. Mountain was ready to grab the little quint by the scruff of his neck and drag him back to their room to not be seen for at least a few days.

It all came to a head at movie night. The ghouls were all gathered in the common room watching some movie Dew and Aether liked, something with bombs and explosions and good special effects. Something Mountain could ignore for something sweeter. Namely, his lapful of quintessence ghoul.

Phantom was lounging against the earth ghoul’s torso, sitting between his legs. Every few minutes he’d shift ever so slightly, pressing back directly into Mountain’s dick. He stretched backwards, bringing his arms around Mountain’s shoulders and allowing his shirt to ride up as he nuzzled into Mountain’s neck.

Come on Mounty, hold me. I’m so cold. 

Mountain could hear Phantom’s voice echoing around his brain.

I know you’ve been staring. Come on, wrap those big arms around me. I can feel you, I can feel you’re hard. I know you want me, Mounty.

Mountain growled slightly into Phantom’s neck.

Don’t start something you can’t finish, little bug. I hope you know what you’re doing.

Phantom only chirped and ground harder back into the earth ghoul. He brought his mouth right up to Mountain’s ear.

“Please, Mounty. Take me back to our room, come on.”

Mountain growled, picking Phantom up and throwing him over his shoulder as Phantom squealed happily. As they walked out of the common room, a there were a few chuckles and groans from various members of the pack, but they mostly ignored the scene happening in front of them. 

Once they reached their shared room, Mountain tossed Phantom into the nest, yanking his shirt over his head. 

“You fucking tease. Whatever am I to do with you?” He crawled forwards, caging Phantom in on all sides. “Hope you don’t like this shirt too much, bug. You’re not getting it back.” 

In one swift motion, Mountain slashed the center of Phantom’s shirt open, revealing his delicate, plush purple skin. Mountain immediately latched onto Phantom’s neck, kissing, sucking and licking his way down the quint’s body until he reached his tummy. 

“Fucking harassing me all day, showing this cute little tummy off when you know I can’t handle it. Fucking drives me insane, bug, madness how gorgeous you are. Could stare for hours and never have enough.”

Phantom whined, squirming against the sheets. “Then why don’t yo-hah-do something more than just stare? Please Mounty, I need it. Touch me, please.”

“Oh princess, you’ve had more than enough touches for today. You always get what you want, hmm? It’s time for me to get something back.”

Mountain straddled Phantom’s calf, slowly starting to grind as he shoved his face back into his soft purple tummy.

“Fuck, bug, you’re perfect. Love how soft you are, how soft you’ve gotten. Love that you’re so strong now, so pretty. Such a pretty ghoul.” Mountain gasped, staring to hump Phantom’s leg more aggressively. He brought a hand down to Phantom’s straining cock, slowly beginning to jerk it. 

“You drive me crazy, baby, your cute little ass and your fucking thighs, love, wanna cover em with my marks. Wanna make sure everyone knows you’re mine. Wanna - ah! Wanna mate you, mark you, show everyone how much I fucking love you, need you, want you, ah-!”

Mountain finishes with a cry, spilling all over Phantom’s leg. Phantom follows shortly after, enamored with the scene of the earth ghoul falling apart. They lay together, panting, for a minute until Mountain crawls up Phantom’s body to kiss him. A comfortable silence falls over the pair.

“H-hey Mounty? Did you mean what you said? Do you want to be my mate?” Phantom asked nervously, tilting his chin up to look in to the earth ghouls eyes.

“With my whole heart, body, and soul, bug. If you want, whenever you want, wherever you want, I’m yours.”

[voyager-99]

little wip of a personal project i guess

individual panels for it :3

[azureseacloud]

Hidden Messages

Ghost (Band)

Part 5

Dewdrop x reader

Words: 4839

Warnings: swearing, shenanigans, ✨ghouls✨

So, uh, I know it’s been a while but I finally finished this part and I honestly don’t know what happened but somehow it is double the size of the others (oops). There goes my attempt at keeping them all the same length 😭

Not sure when the next part will be out, but I am riding the strong wave of hyperfixation that I got from watching the ghovie, so it will hopefully take less time than this part.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, and if you want to chat about ghost or the ghovie or anything really, shoot me a message (I don’t bite, unlike the ghouls ;)

Thanks for your support, love you all <3

Taglist: @gummy-dummy

@viylikescats

@ghoulettess

@starwalker3001

Striding hurriedly through the corridor, you grasped the cup of fresh coffee tightly. Its warmth seeped into the palm of your hand as the strong aroma hung in the air.

Tucked under your other arm was your laptop enclosed on a folder containing the last documents that you had finished last night. You rounded the corner, ducking down the next left and knocking on the first door with your free hand.

“Come in,” Sister Imperator’s stern voice sounded from the other side.

You opened the door, trying not to drop the laptop precariously held under your arm.

“Good morning, Sister,” you greeted her as you made your way over to stand before her desk.

She sat in her chair, a set of glasses perched on her nose. Her greying hair was done up in a tight bun with a few loose strands falling around her face. The suit she wore was a smooth grey.

“Morning. Do you have everything that I asked for?” She replied, her voice stern. That was how it always was though, and it was the one word that perfectly described her entire demeanour.

“Right here.” You handed her the folder of documents. “And I emailed the rest of them as well.”

Sister nodded as she flicked through the pages, skimming each one. Your eyes wandered around the room, scanning over the various novels and grimoires stuffed into the dark bookshelf that took up most of the room.

Practice started in ten minutes, and you were hoping this meeting would be short. You could have had extra time if not for Cirrus, who hadn’t wanted to let you go just as Dewdrop had the morning before.

Ghouls were so much like cats.

It was a similarity you had marked several times throughout working with them. Although, when you had brought it up to Phantom one time, he’d vehemently denied it, even though he’d literally been purring loudly right before you said it.

“Did you sort out the issue with the venue?” Sister asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes, they needed an extra few forms filled out for the pyrotechnics. I filled those out, just waiting now for their confirmation, which we should receive some time today.”

She nodded, finishing flicking through the files. “Excellent work.”

“Thank you, Sister.” You smiled graciously.

“What are you planning to do today?”

“I was going to watch the ghouls and Papa practice. But if there’s something you need my help with, I’ll gladly lend a hand.”

Sister Imperator’s gaze roved over you. It always felt like she was somehow seeing through you and into your mind.

“No, that’s fine.” She looked back down at the papers again, shuffling them, before glancing back up. “The ghouls seem to be very fond of you.”

You blinked, unsure what to say. “Yeah, they seem to like me.”

Sister’s piercing eyes moved over your face, as if analysing your thoughts and feelings just by taking in your features. A chill ran up your spine before she ended the brief silence.

“Don’t ever forget that they aren’t like us. They aren’t human, no matter how convincing they may seem.” Her words were etched with warning. “I’d hate for you to get hurt. You’d be so very hard to replace.”

You nodded respectfully, her words and their possible meanings running through your mind.

“You may go.” She waved a hand, and you hurried out of the room, holding your laptop tightly under your arm. Was she trying to warn you?

Or was that a threat?

******

They were in the middle of a song by the time you made it down to the rehearsal room. The muffled thumping of the beats and the sweet cries of guitars could be heard through the walls as you beelined for the door.

Pausing with your hand on the handle, you took a moment to collect yourself. You were already aware that Dew was going to be out for your attention, just as he had yesterday. Perhaps even more so.

But he wouldn’t be the only one. All the ghouls became “absolute attention whores”—as you had heard the siblings of sin describe it—when on stage. And today, there was only one person to focus their antics on.

Why did you agree to this again?

Before you could get too caught up in your thoughts—or think back to Sister Imperator’s cryptic words that had been stuck in your head the entire walk down—you twisted the handle and opened the door.

The music washed over you in a loud wave, the blaring sounds of guitars, drums, keyboards and the vocals belonging to Papa and his ghouls filling your ears. Music was always so much more magical when it was performed live, and you were already tapping your fingers against your thigh in time with the beat.

You closed the door behind you, eyes darting immediately to the stage. Dew was staring straight at you already, deftly playing his signature white guitar. He tilted the guitar to the side, flashing the ‘You Suck’ sticker on the back in way of greeting.

How wonderful.

Flipping him off in return, you tore your eyes off his figure (holy shit that cape!) to slide over the other ghouls as you made your way to the front. Cirrus waved from her spot, flaring the blue of her cape. You shot her a thumbs up, clapping as she did a little twirl. Aurora waved as she and Cumulus sang the backup vocals into the same mic. Swiss flashed his (slightly creepy) smile, giving a delicate wave that quickly turned into him motioning ‘come here’ with his two fingers as he swayed his hips to the music.

Phantom stole your gaze then, stepping in and swinging his guitar under a leg while still playing. Behind him, Rain gave you a friendly nod, which you returned with a smile.

All of them looked amazing, the satin blue adding a splash of colour that contrasted wonderfully with their black uniforms. It gave them all a regal air, and you could see that they seemed pretty thrilled about the accessory.

You stopped halfway down the rows of benches, leaning against one as you waited for the song to finish, unsure where to sit. It was slightly daunting having them all focus on you like this.

“Cry all you want, but there’s not a single fucking thing you can do about those goddamn Rats.” Papa Copia hissed out, his bright blue jacket practically glowing under the lights.

You were nodding along until the song finished, the final echoes of the guitars fading.

“Hello lovely Sibling,” Copia greeted, speaking into the mic. You smiled back, waving shyly. “Come closer, we don’t bite—well they do but I’m sure you’re used to that.” He laughed at his little joke, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

Copia was always a friendly face, with his cheeky jokes and eccentric quirks. He was very different to all the other papas, but you liked him. He’d made you feel comfortable when you had first arrived here, and that was something that you were always reminded of when you saw him. He still checked in every now and then, ensuring that his ghouls were treating you right and that Sister wasn’t working you too hard.

“It sounded really good,” you called up at them as you made your way to the front. You forced your eyes to stay on Copia, even though you wanted to look at the ghoul to the right of him. You’d have plenty of time to admire Dewdrop later, you reminded yourself, although you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to give him that satisfaction.

“Ah, thank you my dear. It will be nice to have someone in here to perform for. We all have a few new tricks to test out.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, getting a laugh out of you as you sat down in the front row, slightly to the right.

Papa grouped the ghouls together, probably discussing the order of songs or those ‘new tricks’ he had mentioned. After a moment they all returned to their positions as Copia vanished somewhere up the back, most likely to make a grand entrance for the next song.

Your gaze flicked to Dew as he stepped over to the very edge of the stage, looking down at you in a way that had shivers racing down your spine.

That was a view you could get used to.

Your eyes began tracing his figure, stopping to admire certain points—the way he held the guitar casually, how his hand wrapped loosely around the neck, his fucking gorgeous boots that you had always been so jealous of, and the way his jacket clung to his form. Then there was the cape. That fucking cape. The buckle clasped across one side of his chest like an insignia, the blue spilling out over his should—

You stiffened, snapping to realisation of where your thoughts, and your eyes, had travelled to. Fuck.

Looking back up sheepishly, you could feel the ghoul’s cocky smirk, knowing he would have been watching you the whole time. Darting your eyes back to the front of the stage, you cleared your throat, kicking one leg over the other and leaning back in the seat, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Aw, don’t get all shy on me, my dearest.” The smug edge in his voice was unmissable. “There’s no need to be embarrassed for liking what you see.” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the subtle heat that had settled in your cheeks. Or at least, you hoped it was subtle.

“Relax Dew,” you lightly called up to him. “I was just having a look at the new cape. Cirrus has been telling me all about it.” And it certainly looked fucking amazing on him, but you weren’t going to say that. “Believe it or not, not everyone wants to fuck you.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew that you had just set yourself up.

The ghoul cackled, leaning over the stage to look down at you. “Wrong, sweetheart. And the way you can’t keep your eyes off me tells me that you definitely do as well. All you have to do is ask, lovely sin, and I’ll show you just how much you’re missing.”

You stared back up at the ghoul, mouth falling open. You heard him huff a laugh at your reaction, sending heat rushing to your cheeks. Before you could protest—or keel over and die from what he had just said—Mountain’s drums echoed out and just like that, the music started.

You instantly ripped your eyes away from the cocky ghoul, pinpointing Cirrus who was jumping around at her keyboard. She waved and you managed a small wave back. But even without your eyes on him, all you could think about now was that fucking fire ghoul and what he had just said.

Unholy shit, did that mean he knew how you felt about him!? Had your reaction just given it away? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Maybe he was just messing with you. That was all, right? He didn’t actually want to fuck you—did he? What if he did?

More importantly, was he aware that his words had literally just short-circuited your brain? Deep fried it? Baked and roasted and toasted? The rehearsal had barely even started and he’d already got to you.

You snapped out of your spiralling thoughts as Copia reached the microphone just in front of you, his voice pouring out the lyrics to Call Me Little Sunshine. You could hear your frantic heart thumping against the beat of the drums, as you tried to focus on what Copia was singing, and not those other thoughts that were fighting to overrun your mind. You had to pull it together.

Then that ghoul waltzed smoothly into your eyeline, his fingers skirting along the frets of the guitar. Unbidden, a picture rose to mind of him running those fingers along your body, as his mouth—

Nope, you were not going to think about that right now.

You shifted in your seat, catching the smug tilt of Dew’s head, as if he was aware of the turn your thoughts had taken. You exhaled, recovering your composure, and returned your gaze to Copia.

“You will never walk alone,” Papa sung, his beautiful ghostly voice and intense eye contact giving you chills as you watched with awe. “You can always reach me. You will never ever walk alone.”

“Call me!” Swiss, Cumulus and Aurora’s voices rung out, hauntingly beautiful in their harmony. Swiss smiled at you again, flashing those brilliant white teeth, and you smiled back.

The performance really was amazing, especially being this close to the stage. You’d gotten the job a few months ago, in the middle of their break, so you hadn’t really had the opportunity to see them perform, except for the occasional event at the clergy. But that usually ended with you in the back of the crowd, so watching them today was a whole different experience.

Dew crossed your vision again, this time pointing at you as it reached the chorus again, then making a ‘call me’ motion. Rolling your eyes with a smile, you watched as Rain cut in front of him, languidly reaching his ringed hand out towards you. You reached out as well, your hands too far apart to touch.

Then Phantom pushed in front, leaning backwards over the stage, his upside-down goggled eyes staring at you. Rain and Dew both grabbed the Quintessence ghoul before he fell, pulling him back on the stage as the song ended. You giggled as Rain steadied Phantom, while Dew just gave him a smack on the helmet.

Once they’d sorted that out, Dewdrop stepped up to the front and launched straight into Square Hammer. The three guitarist ghouls were in front of you as they began on the opening, Dew leaning back with Rain. Phantom joined them for the next part, all of them stomping in unison.

You really wanted those boots. Maybe you could steal a pair off Cirrus.

As Papa’s voice began, Dew threw a pick at you. Somehow, you miraculously managed to catch it before it hit your face, raising an eyebrow at the ghoul as he swaggered back to his side of the stage. You slipped it into your pocket, hiding the smile it brought to your face.

It went on like this for a while as they went through every song on their set list. You were bobbing your head and tapping your fingers with the beat, singing along with them. When Cirrus came over for her solo in Mummy Dust, you loudly cheered her on, both of you blowing kisses at each other.

On the other hand, Dewdrop was certainly out to get you. Aside from his usual movements and charm, he was definitely putting on a show for you: hovering on the edge of the stage right above you, running his hands along his body slowly in a way that had your heart racing, licking his fingers and even the guitar, plus a whole lot of other innuendo gestures and actions he seemed to fit into each song.

You were certain the little gremlin was making sure that you were looking in his direction whenever he did any of those actions. It was driving you crazy—and although you tried your hardest to pretend otherwise, you were sure that some of your reactions were noticeable. Worse, you almost couldn’t take your eyes off him, and your thoughts kept spiralling as much as you tried to shut them down.

But by Satan, you were loving it.

Toward the end of the rehearsal, during a short break, Cirrus hopped down the stage and came over to you.

“How are you going?” She asked with the hint of a smile in her voice. You were sure your face said it all—you were practically buzzing with energy.

“Fucking fantastic,” you answered back, nodding at her cape. “You were right about looking absolutely stunning.”

“Aw, thanks gorgeous.” She did a small twirl with it, then grabbed your hands and pulled you up to stand. Staggering at the unexpected movement, she used her grip to steady you.

“What are you doing?” You asked as she began leading you through the seats to the left. There was a little corridor there, which you assumed led up to the—oh no.

“Bringing you up to play with me,” she answered with a wicked grin as your mind landed on the same conclusion.

“Uh Cirrus, I don’t think—“

“You’ll be fine.” The corridor was small and closed off from the rest of the rehearsal room. She led you through it, her hand still firmly on yours. “So, how’s the show?”

“Really good. You’re all so amazing. And the capes are just breathtaking.”

“What about Dew?” She asked, giving you a teasing side look. “Better than those videos I keep sending you?”

“Is that even a question you need to ask? Of course it’s better.” Cirrus laughed at that, a giggle escaping you as well while your cheeks heated.

“Mmm, I thought so from the way you’ve been staring at him.”

“Shut up,” you whispered back at her. “I just can’t help it, and I think that maybe he’s noticed.” You weren’t going to repeat the words he had said to you at the beginning—you would tell her that later, when you weren’t in the same vicinity as the fire ghoul.

“You don’t say?” She gasped, sarcasm heavy in her voice as a smirk tugged at her lips.

Fuck, if that was Cirrus’ reaction then you had definitely not been subtle.

Just then, the corridor opened up into a cozy backstage area, with velvet carpeting and a set of red couches to the side. There were a couple mirrors fitted with benches—ready for last minute and mid-show adjustments, you assumed. A large rack of clothing was beside one of the couches, hung with what looked like Papa’s various outfits.

Copia was there, getting changed into his signature red jacket. He looked up as you walked in.

“Ah, are you going to join us for the next song, lovely sibling?” His eyes lit up as he asked.

“I don’t think I really have much of a choice,” you answered, as Cirrus tugged you to the front of the room. Before Copia could reply, you were out onto the stage. She brought you up to her platform and only let you go once you’d reached the keyboard, as if she suspected you might try to run away.

You looked over the stage, taking in the view of the empty room. It was admittedly a little daunting, being up on stage like this, even without a crowd present.

Yeah, maybe running away was a good idea.

“Finally come up to play with us?” Swiss called from his own platform, a hand caressing his mic stand once again. You were sure that ghoul had been a stripper in hell—if the mic stand was swapped out for a pole, you didn’t think there would be much difference.

“Yes,” you replied, nodding your head as Cirrus draped her arm around your shoulders. “I am totally not a hostage right now.”

Swiss snorted. You thought you heard another laugh, spotting Phantom as he joined the three of you.

“I see Cirrus has brought us an unwilling victim,” Phantom joked, sliding his pick along the string. You heard the sound of another guitar join the echoes of Phantom’s as Dew began playing his own solo. Even from the distance, you could see his fingers moving insanely fast.

“Show off,” Cirrus commented, squeezing your shoulder pointedly. You didn’t miss the way Swiss looked between you and the ghoul currently shredding his guitar, a smile slowly growing on his face. He opened his mouth to say something just as Papa walked out.

“Are we all ready?” Copia’s voice was barely audible over the sound of Dew’s guitar. He propped his hands on his hips, glaring at the oblivious ghoul until Rain grabbed his shoulder, stopping the fire ghoul and gesturing over at Papa.

“I said,” Copia began, this time speaking into the mic, “are we ready? Three, two, one!”

They jumped right in to the next song. It only took a few seconds before you placed it—Kiss the Go Goat.

Cirrus’ energy was contagious, and it wasn’t long before you were jumping around with her. The two of you danced around the platform, Cirrus letting you play the very few notes that you remembered from when she had taught you, while she easily covered the rest that you didn’t.

As she moved her fingers smoothly across the keys, her other hand pulled you to the mic as the pre-chorus came close. You shook your head at her, but she just smiled and drew you closer.

When it arrived, the two of you sang into the mic together, Cirrus smiling widely. You grinned back, pushing away your doubts as you shyly sung the next backing vocals along with her.

You almost didn’t notice Dew stopping by Swiss’ platform, the multi ghoul crouching down with him. Your eyes were immediately set on the two ghouls. What were they up to?

Dew stepped away, catching your stare. He started sauntering your way, stopping just in front of the platform. Tilting his head, he exhaled, smoke slowly seeping out of his helmet.

Oh. Unholy fuck.

The fire ghoul walked back a few steps, still watching you, then turned back around, returning to his spot on stage.

While you were still processing that—and how fucking attractive it was—Cirrus gave you a sharp jab in the ribs and you jolted back to reality.

“He definitely knows,” she said in your ear gleefully. “He did that just for you.”

You swatted her hand away, scowling at her. She grinned teasingly, leaning back into the mic with you as the next pre-chorus arrived.

“Please youuu,” you both sung, blending your vocals with those of Swiss, Aurora and Cumulus.

As soon as the chorus ended, Cirrus launched into her keyboard solo. Standing back to give her space, something brushed against your arm and you twisted around to see Swiss. He held out his hand, waiting for you to take it. You rolled your eyes, placing your hand in his and letting him steal you away to his platform while Cirrus was distracted.

“Having fun?” He asked, handing you his tambourine as he swayed along to the music.

“Of course.” You tapped the instrument along as the keyboard transitioned to guitar. “You guys have the best job in the clergy.”

“Actually, I think you have the best job.” Swiss leaned in closer. “You get to admire us all day.”

You smacked his arm playfully with the tambourine, the ghoul’s teeth gleaming in a teasing way as Dew’s solo came to an end. You kept in rhythm as best you could with the Tamborine, as Swiss handled the back up vocals.

Your eyes caught the shine of a white guitar as Dew threw a pick at Swiss. It bounced off his goggles, the multi ghoul making a rather suggestive gesture to Dewdrop in return, thrusting his hips against the microphone stand.

Dewdrop’s attention switched back to you, and he pointed at his chest.

“He’s the guy you wanna do,” Papa sang. Dew moved his hand, holding up two fingers. “And you know that it takes two. Luckily, he wants to do you too.”

You watched as Dew tilted his hand and curled his two fingers smoothly toward you, in a motion that couldn’t be mistaken in any other way.

Then the charming ghoul blew a kiss, before strumming out the ending of the song, twisting with just enough force to have his cape flare behind him in a dramatic image that you would mentally save in your mind.

And then he was walking away once again, Phantom tilting his head curiously as he watched the other guitarist leave.

Swiss tapped you on the shoulder, and you ripped your eyes away from the fire ghoul, mentally trying to smooth your expression.

“What?”

“He’s definitely got it out for you today,” Swiss smirked. “I don’t think I’ve seen him this feral before, especially at rehearsal.”

“No he doesn’t,” you replied back, offering the Tamborine to the multi ghoul. He took it, shaking it at you.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He flashed another smile as Dance Macabre began. “But that ghoul definitely wants to bewitch you all night.”

You let out an exasperated sigh in response, rolling your eyes at the multi ghoul as he snickered at his own joke.

The next two songs went by rather quickly. You returned to Cirrus’ platform, where Aurora and Cumulus visited to sing and dance along with you. Surprisingly, there were no visits from Dewdrop this time—which was good, because you weren’t entirely sure how many more you could take. He was all over your mind, and you were finding yourself subconsciously looking in his direction every few seconds, which didn’t go unnoticed by Cirrus.

As the last song finally ended, Copia turned around, doing a little ‘ta-da’ motion with his hands as the last of the guitars faded out.

“So, how did we do, lovely sibling?”

“You were all perfect,” you called out, giving him a thumbs up.

Papa clapped his hands. “Excellent. You were pretty perfect yourself, no? Thank you for joining us today, it’s always better to perform to an audience instead of an empty room. Now, I do believe I am wanted by Sister, but the rest of you can continue without me. I want you to do one more run through.” He began to walk to the backstage then paused, putting a finger up.

“No shenanigans.” The warning seemed to be mainly directed at Swiss and Dew. He gave them each a pointed look, then made his way off the stage.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You quickly checked it, spotting a few emails from the venue that you’d sent the pyrotechnic forms to last night. Instead of clearing it, it seemed like they had a few more concerns that you would have to address. Yay.

“Are you staying here with us?” Aurora asked, tapping her hands together.

“I would love to, but it seems like this venue has some more forms to fill out,” you sighed. “Thanks for letting me join though, it was a lot of fun. I love your capes!” Aurora and Cumulus both did a twirl, the smaller ghoul giggling as they gave you a hug before returning to their platforms.

Cirrus simply gave you a knowing grin that told you she would be teasing you all about Dew later. You sighed.

“I’ll see you later.”

“You definitely will,” she sang back.

You had a quick (and super subtle) look for the fire ghoul as you headed to the back of the stage. You couldn’t see him, and it wasn’t until you reached the doorway of the backstage room that something grabbed you by the waist, spinning you around so your back was pressed against their chest.

“Looking for me, dearest sibling?” He purred in your ear, the warmth from his body seeping into your skin.

Heart racing, you didn’t move as he leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning across your neck.

“Oh, hi Dew. I didn’t see you there.” He hummed in response, thumbs brushing over your hips and your breath hitched.

“I told you that you wouldn’t be able to keep your eyes off me.” His smug voice was right next to your ear.

“I-no-That’s not true,” you countered, even as you knew it certainly was. You had no doubt he knew too.

“You’re so fucking cute when you’re flustered,” Dew murmured gleefully, running his hands along your sides as he released you with a teasing laugh.

You stood there for a moment, completely flabbergasted, as he strode back out onto the stage like he hadn’t just got your heart racing so fast you wouldn’t be surprised if you went into cardiac arrest. Reaching out a hand, you leaned heavily against the wall not trusting your legs.

Unholy shit.

Unholy Shit.

You had a lot to process. Seeing them perform up close—having him perform up close, was something you definitely needed to see again. None of those videos compared to actually being there. But at the same time, you almost felt like your heart was going to give out. He knew exactly what to do to get you flushed and heated.

And what he had just done? You could still feel the warmth of his body, his breath on your neck and hear the echoes of his laugh. It seemed that maybe, just maybe, Cirrus was right about him being interested in you.

Satan, what were you going to do now?

[gravehags]

the potential of you and me

Pairing: Phantom x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: peeping tom behavior, masturbation, soft dom reader, phantom being a little freak (affectionate), not a lot of dialogue

Words: 1,701

Summary: It's not the first time he's watched you and he hopes it won't be the last.

a/n: listen sometimes people (me) are horny and love some light perversion. i just rewatched the boy and if you know you know. dedicated to @forest-rot

divider by @ghuleh-recs

He doesn’t mean to start doing it.

It just sort of…happens.

The first time it occurs is not long after he is summoned as he is walking down the hall, passing an open doorway when he hears noises. Silently, he creeps to the edge of the doorframe and looks in one of the seminar classrooms, where he sees two sisters of sin tangled together. The moans coming out of the both of them go straight to his cock and as he watches them lick into each other’s mouths, he gently presses the heel of his palm into his groin. The way it makes him feel is…jarring, and when a loud moan of his own comes unbidden from his lips, the sisters jump apart and look in his direction. Luckily he’s quick and quietly bolts back the other way, comically cupping the bulge in his pants.

The second time happens within the ghoul den. The smell in there has always been overwhelming for him, and when his pack members are in rut? The ghoulettes sequester themselves to their collective room to take care of each other, far too dangerous to be wandering the halls and some ghouls do the same, such as Rain and Mountain. Swiss on the other hand, with his easy toothy grin, is shameless about his. One evening Phantom hears whimpers and groans coming from the communal living area and immediately his cock stirs to attention. Getting up and creeping down the hallway he pokes his head around the corner and has to bite down on a gasp. Stretched out on the length of the couch, all lithe body and limbs, is Swiss. His sleep pants are pulled down over his hips and his eyes are shut as the long fingers on his right hand are wrapped around his cock. Phantom’s mouth waters as he watches the rhythmic stroking of Swiss’ hand - the way he takes the time to rub the head and spread the pre around the length. When the other ghoul brings his hand up to his mouth and spits in his palm, Phantom’s hand flies to his own cock, now leaking against his underwear. The way Swiss’ back arches and hips flex is hypnotic and, feeling bold, Phantom takes out his dick and mimics the taller ghoul’s movements. He nearly bites through his bottom lip as he stifles his moans at the new sensations, instead letting Swiss do the moaning for the both of them. If Swiss can hear the wet rocketing of Phantom’s hand around himself in the dark, he gives no indication as lazy streams of filth pour from his lips. Phantom comes first, hips stuttering into his hand as his spend shoots across the hardwood floor. He doesn’t stop rubbing himself though, not until Swiss paints his own chest with cum and licks the remainder off his fingers. The post-orgasmic haze Phantom comes down from doesn’t last long, as he’s filled with panic and scurries back down the hall to shut himself in his room. When Dewdrop comes out of his room the next morning he steps in the sticky remains of Phantom’s cum, cussing loudly. Phantom avoids all eyes that morning, but he swears he sees Swiss wink at him at one point.

And from there he’s lost. Any and every spare chance he gets he’s looking in windows, peeping through cracked doors, anything to chase that high. Ghouls, ghoulettes, siblings, it doesn’t matter he’ll watch anyone do anything. 

But his favorite is you.

He watches you all the time. And not just in…compromising moments. He likes to hide behind the stacks in the library to observe you sitting at a table and taking notes for rituals. The way your pretty hands flip through the pages of an old book and eyes focus on the text, brows furrowed. He likes to watch you in the dining hall, laughing and talking to friends while eating. He watches you curled in bed, fast asleep on your side and breathing deep as he sits silently perched in the chair opposite your bed.

He likes when you shower best.

You always leave the door open, he likes to think you do it for him, and you let the steam build up in the small room. When you slowly begin to strip your habit off, he sighs into your empty bedroom, the sound drowned out by the flow of the water. You’re still in your underwear, checking the temperature, and he’s already half hard. He’s seen many people nude by now with his new fixation but the curve of your hips and belly (so soft, he thinks, you must be so soft) draws his eyes and inch by inch his gaze travels your body. When you finally slip out of your underwear, he can’t help the whimper that escapes him as you delicately step into the powerful stream. You’re washing your hair tonight, he knows this, and delights in the way the soaked strands cling to your shoulders and back. His eyes follow your hands as you dole out your shampoo and scrub it into your scalp, head tilted back so he can see the pretty line of your neck. You diligently complete your hair routine and reach for a small purple loofah and your body wash (rose and lemon, he would recognize the smell of you anywhere), pouring a generous amount out. It’s when you begin to move the sponge over your skin, suds forming, his mouth goes dry. The way the soap sheens on your skin, the tender, slow attention you pay to your breasts and the way the droplets slide down them has his hand palming the bulge in his pants. You’re thorough in your scrubbing, and he lets out a gasp when you reach between your legs. He panics for a moment when he realizes you’re now washing all the soap off of you - he hasn’t had enough time. But you linger under the water for a moment as he tentatively frees his cock and spits into his hand, just like Swiss taught him. When your fingers trail slowly, sensuously up the swell of your hip, across your stomach to tap along your sternum, his stomach does a backflip. He knows exactly what you’re doing tonight.

He can hear a soft hum, even over the din of the shower as you toy your nipples to hardness, biting down on your lower lip. His hand slowly slides over his cock to match your unhurried pace. You look so beautiful like this, so raw and open for him with your head tipped back, it makes him lightheaded. When you pinch at them, with surprisingly hardness, your hips buck forward and his do the same. Slowly your fingers creep back down your body to slip through the hair at the juncture of your thighs and move along your slit. He pauses for a moment, worried that the sound of his heavy breathing and equally heavy moans will be detected, but you don’t hesitate. The noise that comes out of you when you run your fingers against your clit makes him collapse against the doorframe, hand pressing against the head of him. Your touches are firm and just a little bit frantic as your body twitches and spine bends underneath your ministrations. He’s trying his best to keep his pre from dripping onto your bedroom floor, but part of him wants it to happen - to leave a piece of him with you. His concentration is blown as a long, low moan echoes in the bathroom and he gasps as he watches you sink two fingers inside your cunt.

“Fuck yes,” you groan and his cock twitches in his fist, “so good, mmm I love your hands.”

You could be talking about anyone - a sibling, a Papa, another ghoul - but he doesn’t care. In his head it’s him you’re thinking about as you fuck yourself at a steady pace and he does the same. Your moans are getting higher, louder and he knows you’re close so he thrusts into his fist at a faster rate. He can see the slick on your fingers, can smell you, and it makes him grunt and growl. 

“C’mon baby,” he hisses, “please, please, please. I need it.”

When you come around your fingers, crying out, and your body bows to the pressure of your orgasm, his hips jolt forward and just like that second night watching Swiss, he cums in ropes along your floor. He should be filled with panic as his hips continue flexing into his fist, wanting more, but he has barely realized you’ve turned the shower off and stepped out. When the door opens and you see him doubled over on himself, softening cock in hand you…laugh?

“Made a mess of my floor, huh?” you purr, adjusting the towel wrapped around you. He’s speechless, still holding himself with eyes wide.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, finally coming to his senses and frantically tucking himself away. For the first time he’s filled with immense embarrassment at finally being caught but you just look at him with a sweet smile on your face.

“Don’t worry, you can clean it up,” you say, “I’ll watch. And then you can tell me how long you’ve been watching me, hmm?”

“I–I haven’t–”

“Did you think I didn’t see you in my bedroom the other night?” you ask, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re quiet but not that quiet. Lucky for you I like it.”

The flush that spreads over his cheeks is ridiculous and you giggle, tapping your foot next to the offending spots on the floor.

“Come on, filthy boy. Hands and knees, put that tongue to work. I want to see that floor shine. And don’t get back up until I tell you.”

With that, you unwrap the towel from your body and neatly toss it in the hamper as he lowers himself to the floor. Staring at your feet, he tentatively wraps his hand around your ankle and slides it up your calf. When he looks up at you, eyes filled with wonder and desire, you smile down at him, stroking his hair. Slowly, he lowers his mouth to the floor and with a tentative lick, begins to scoop up his seed.

“Right where you belong,” you hum.

Right where I belong, he thinks, the salt of his release tangy in the back of his throat.

Right where I belong.

[ramblingoak]

Kiss prompt!

Papa x Swiss

#27

Plz & thx 😜

Thank you Anon! I had a lot of fun with this one since I haven't really done much Papa x Ghoul stuff yet. I hope you like it!

Copia x Swiss with a kiss "as a suggestion"

Warnings: just a very thorough kiss hehe, maybe slightly suggestive so nsfw just in case, about 1k words and aggressively not beta read (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers!)

Swiss hated seeing Copia like this.

Tired and stressed, Papa had been working practically nonstop in preparation for the upcoming tour.  Even the black makeup around his eyes couldn’t hide the signs of strain that were there.  His wrinkles were a little more pronounced from squinting at budget sheets and the skin beneath his eyes was swollen from lack of sleep.  The man needed a good meal, a good night’s rest and as Swiss let his eyes wander over the handsome Papa’s body a few other ideas came to mind.

“Why the fuck does Dewdrop need all these guitars?”

Copia’s irritated voice broke Swiss from his thoughts and the ghoul straightened up from the couch he had been sprawled across,  “Don’t know, skill issue?”

“Skill iss–,”  Copia looked up sharply from his paperwork, his eyes narrowed as he glanced over at Swiss.  When all he saw was a pointy toothed grin Copia snorted and looked back down at his desk.  “Phantom didn’t ask for any new guitars, neither did you!  Why does Dewdrop need six?”

“Papa, can I make a suggestion?”  When he nodded, Swiss stood up and made his way over to his desk.  “Let’s leave Dewdrop behind.”

Copia grinned immediately, the big one that Swiss was pretty sure was only reserved for him.  The smile that he definitely didn’t go out of his way to try to see on a daily basis.  

“I’m on board as long as you’re the one that breaks the news.”  

Copia smiled again when Swiss made a face but it quickly faded when he focused on the paperwork in front of him again.  Well this wasn’t going to do at all, Swiss needed to up his game a bit.  He idly started to tap his claws on the dark wood of the desk, slowly walking around to the side and leaning his hip against it.

“Papa?”  Swiss stayed quiet until Copia looked up at him,  “Can I make another suggestion?”

“Uh, sì.  Certo.”

“How about we take a break?”  He could see Copia immediately stiffen and Swiss had no doubt he was about to be on the receiving end of a speech on how much work there was to do so he quickly reached out and laid a hand over Copia’s arm.  “You need to eat and get some sleep.”

“That was two suggestions.”

“Oh, really?  Well then how about I throw in a third one?”  Swiss pushed off the desk and moved around until he was standing behind Copia.  He gently laid his hands on the man’s shoulders and started to rub the tense muscles there.  “You also need a massage.”

Copia’s only answer was a deep groan and Swiss took that as permission to rub his shoulders harder.  The man was quickly putty in the ghoul’s hands, the most delightful sounds falling from his lips.  Swiss had to bite his own to keep from making any himself, right now his focus was on Copia and making him feel good.

He always enjoyed taking care of his Papa.

When Copia had mostly quieted down, the muscles that Swiss had been working on finally relaxed and loose, he slipped around the chair and hopped up to sit on the desk.

“Swiss!  Stop playing around I still have lots of wor–”

“I actually have one more suggestion.”  

“I haven’t even done the other two you asked for yet.”

“Oh I know, but this last one is something we can fit in whenever.”  Copia was looking up at him with an exasperated expression on his face but Swiss just kept smiling.  “Whenever and as often as you want.”

“Is it leaving me alone?”  Swiss could see Copia fighting a smile when he gave him an exaggerated pout.  “Fine, fine.  Let’s see, you already suggested food and rest…”

“And firing Dewdrop.”

“Sì, and firing Dewdrop.”  Copia sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair and stared up at Swiss.  “I can’t think of anything else I need.”

“A kiss.”

“Un bacio?”  Swiss nodded eagerly, pleased beyond words to see a blush building on Copia’s cheeks.  “Just one?”

“To start with.”

Neither of them spoke for a few moments, both just watching the other.  Swiss was trying not to stare at his lips but he was failing miserably.  When one corner of them quirked up and Copia looked away shyly Swiss felt like letting out a whoop of triumph.

“Okie dokie.  I accept your suggestion.”  

Copia nervously began to shuffle the papers on his desk, only stopping when Swiss planted a hand right on top of them as he leaned in towards him.  The kiss was gentle, far gentler than was necessary but Swiss wanted to savor this moment.  He wanted to memorize every little detail he could.  The fullness of Copia’s bottom lip, the taste of the black makeup he wore on the top one, the sound of their teeth lightly clacking together as the kiss deepened…

Swiss was too damn big to be crawling into Copia’s lap but here he was, his legs straddling him and his fingers buried in the man’s brown hair.  Copia’s tongue flicked at Swiss’s lips, demanding entrance and easily getting it.  As Swiss raked his claws along his scalp Copia tugged at the ghoul’s shirt so he could slide his gloved hands along Swiss’s skin.  The leather was warm and soft and Swiss broke away from his lips with a deep groan.

After a handful of minutes panting into each other’s mouths Swiss finally leaned back to look over his work.  Copia’s hair was all over the place thanks to his hands and Swiss probably had more makeup on his face than Copia did at this point.  He licked his lips to get a taste of the metallic paint again, grinning when he saw Copia’s mismatched eyes tracking the movement of his tongue.

Oh yeah, there were definitely going to be more kisses.

“What do you think, Papa?  Did you like that suggestion?”

Copia nodded, his hands still idly rubbing along Swiss’s body under his shirt, “I did, sì.”  Without warning he gave a quick tug and Swiss found himself pressed tightly to his Papa’s chest, their faces barely a breath apart.  “Got any more?”

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[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Love, Eternal // [Part II]

Pairing | Phantom x Sister!Reader

Word count | 881

⚠️ Warnings | Reader uses she/her pronouns, (y/n) is used once. There is a small ritual scene. TW for murder ghouls, blood, injuries, assault, violence, and death.

Plot Summary: Today was Phantom's summoning day, a special occasion akin to a birthday. Eager to surprise him with a homemade cake, you realize you're missing ingredients and head into town. On the way back, you encounter trouble with some members of the Catholic church that changes the course of your life in the Ministry - and with Phantom - forever.

A/N: I'm so sorry Phantom, no one deserved this. It was supposed to be a fluffy birthday fic I swear!

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“Peace be upon you, Sister. If we can even call you that.”

Glaring over your shoulder, you saw two members from the Catholic church up the road approach behind you. They loved to take turns hanging around the front gate and tormenting the Siblings. The first nuisance was a few inches taller than the other, both still being larger in stature than yourself. The taller one was thinner in frame, with short curly hair. While the smaller one clearly hit the gym, his biceps straining against a shirt you knew was definitely a size too small.

“Where’s your gang of freaks? I thought you people always had guard dogs when you went to town?”

You just ignored them, as you were taught to do, and kept walking. The sound of their shoes on the gravel getting louder and louder. Their pace hurried as they continued to stalk behind you.

“C’mon, we just wanna talk!” The taller one yelled. 

“Yeah! We want to convert!” The shorter one snickered, “you wouldn’t turn away willing converts would you?”

You suddenly stopped in your tracks, unwilling to put up with their taunts any longer. They were not going to ruin Phantom’s big day. 

“You know what–” 

Unfortunately, as you spun around to confront them, they happened to be a lot closer than you originally thought. The taller one already making his way behind you. His shorter accomplice roughly grabbing the bag off your shoulder and laughing as he threw it on the ground, crushing the newly bought ingredients under his boot. The purple food colouring appearing black in the moonlight as it splattered over the stones of the driveway, not unlike blood.

The shorter assailant grabbed your wrists and held them tightly behind your back with ease. The taller fiend wrapped his arm across your collarbone and around your neck, holding you still. You tried to wiggle and break free, you tried to bite or scream but a hand quickly found its way over your mouth as a third man slowly approached. 

The third assailant was different from the other two, clearly the leader of this gang. He was a larger, well-built man with short hair you thought to be blonde (though it was too dark to really tell). His hairstyle looked like it belonged at a country club. His face was covered with a black bandana, leaving only his hazel eyes visible under the night sky. He stood before you and stared, not a single emotion to be found on his face as he adjusted the black leather gloves, placing brass knuckles through the fingers of his right hand.

You shut your eyes, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. Silently pleading, no... desperately praying you were close enough to the Abbey for somebody to hear your muffled screams.

Swiss and Rain were slowly running out of ideas to keep Phantom distracted. Taking care of the small ghoul, in general, was as bad as trying to look after a kit. However, because it was his summoning day, he was insufferable - and they were powerless to do anything about it. 

The two ghouls in charge of him looked at one another, silently wondering what was taking you so long. You had been gone for over 2.5 hours and they both knew it only took an hour to get to town and back. Shrugging it off, they figured you had forgotten to tell them you were back and went straight to the kitchen instead, to avoid further delays to Phantom’s surprise.

Midway through enthusiastically telling the older ghouls a ‘fascinating’ story, Phantom suddenly froze. His nose pointed high as he sniffed the air, tail twitching as he looked around with worried eyes.

“Guys,” he said, looking at his brothers with a concerned expression. “I think (y/n) is in trouble.”

Swiss casually leaned back into the couch, “Ha, that’s a good one! I don’t smell anything except for the kitchen staff whipping up some mean lamb chops for dinner. I know you’re itching to see her, she’s probably just busy, Bug.”

“Trust me, she hasn’t forgotten.” Rain chimes in.

Phantom squeezed his eyes shut as he exhaled in frustration. Sniffing around again to confirm his suspicion, his tail went rigid as he picked up that strange scent once again. 

“No, I’m serious, something's not right. I have to go.” He said before rushing out of the den, following a faint wisp of your scent mixed with fear…

And blood.

Swiss and Rain immediately jumped up, not smelling anything out of the ordinary themselves, and ran after the spooked ghoul. Passing by Dewdrop, they dragged him along just in case the young ghoul was right. Dew was more than happy to tag along if it meant the possibility of discarding some ungrateful souls.

Phantom, well ahead of his packmates, threw open the large double doors of the Ministry and jumped over the front steps. The gravel spitting behind him as he sped down the driveway, your scent growing stronger with each step.

He skidded to a halt as he saw your visibly lifeless body laying near the gated entrance of the Abbey. Quickly making his way to your side, he gently picked you up and cradled your broken body in his lap. Ignoring the pain of the rocks and stones cutting into his legs, he attempted to calm his breathing once he noticed the rise and fall of your chest. Thank the dark Father you were still alive.

“Oh, Satan,” he choked out, his lavender eyes welling with tears as your face turned towards him. Your one eye swollen shut and your face adorned with all kinds of bruises and cuts.  Blood decorating your face like a painting and seeping through your outfit onto the gravel underneath.

“Hi,” you wheezed, trying to force a smile through the swelling.

“I can fix this,” Phantom sobbed as he frantically looked at the extent of your injuries. “I can fix you. You’re going to be just fine. Aether has been teaching me a lot, I know I can fix this,” he rambled.

Phantom’s violet Quintessent glow illuminated under his grey skin as he carefully ran his hand over your many wounds. The smaller cuts closing and reopening as he worked against his emotions. He placed his hand with the utmost care over a large cut on your cheek and forcefully shut his tear soaked eyes. Willing the Dark One to give him the power he needed to save you as he felt your essence begin to slowly slip through his fingers.

The other ghouls halted their run, looking on in horror as they saw the scene before them.

“Help me, please!” Phantom screamed in anguish.

[Next]

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 28th

Free Use, Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 3.3k.

Warnings: Free use; mean but caring dom!Copia; public nudity; glove kink; vaginal fingering; orgasm denial; degradation; face-sitting; cunnilingus; dry humping; piv; vaginal sex; unprotected sex; exhibitionism; praise kink (hello, it me, emotionally unavailable but wants intimacy); animalistic; dubcon (if you squint real hard);

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog @saturnhas82moons

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Papa’s dressing room was loud to say the least, with siblings running around to make sure all of his belongings were packed back up into their rightful suitcases, and Ghouls taking care of themselves. You were ready to go, all of your things packed away and loaded into the van early as possible so you wouldn’t disturb the siblings who actually had things to do, thus, you stood in the corner of the room and prayed to Satan that no one needed anything that was on the table next to you. You would have left the room and gone to a quieter place, or even waited in the van had it not been for one very important detail: Papa Copia.

Papa needed to know where you were at all times, no exceptions, no changes, do not pass go, do not collect $200. You were a vital cog in his life’s wheel, a necessary person to keep with him, and answering to no one but him. You were his best friend, his confidante, his lover… and, as he liked to call you, his “reverse stress ball”; reverse because you squeezed the stress out of him. Stress or worry… he pumped in negativity, you released positivity.

Turns out, someone did need the stuff that you were standing in front of, and once again you were in the way. One of the older sisters, who was new to touring with Papa, practically shoved you out the way. “Go stand outside, lovely.” She told you.

“I can’t, I-”

“I don’t care about your excuses, you’re in the way and you have to move.”

And so, you were being pushed out the door and into the oncoming traffic of stage hands and assistants, despite your protests. The corridor was even worse than the dressing room, and you were pulling some serious Matrix moves in order to stay out of people’s way and find somewhere quiet to stand. You eventually found a small pocket of air to breathe in, but it didn’t last very long, it just gave you enough time to pull your phone out and shoot Papa a quick text, and even try to call him. But he didn’t respond to either. And so, you were forced further down the corridor and into a broom closet where you were able to finally rest and de-stress yourself.

Time ticked on in the darkness of the broom closet, and eventually the hustle and bustle of the busy Siblings had dwindled down to mere footsteps of lone people wandering about the venue. No more were wheels rolling against the tiled floors, and thus, you deemed it safe to return to Papa’s dressing room, unaware of just what was waiting there for you.

The hustle and bustle of the stage hands may have died down, but Papa’s Ghouls were in a frantic mess which was only relieved by your entrance to the dressing room. Their masks hid the look of relief on their faces, but they expressed it through deep sighs and hands flying to their hearts.

“Oh, thank Lucifer you’re back!” Cirrus exclaimed.

Aurora, “And that you’re safe!”

Phantom, “Papa is furious. He couldn’t find you.”

You, “Where is he now?”

Phantom shrugged, which sparked Dewdrop to pipe up, “Somewhere looking for you, I’d imagine.”

You, “I tried getting in touch with him several times, but he wasn’t answering the phone.”

Cirrus, “Yeah well, that’s Papa for you.”

“Did he really not say where he was going?”

Cumulus, “I know he had to go back to the stage, but I can’t tell you that he’s still there.”

Dew, “I’ll go find him and then text someone if he’s still there. I think, sister, it would be best if you stayed here until we know for sure.”

When the text arrived that Papa was still on the arena floor, in a meeting with another Sibling, you practically sprinted all the way there. The longer Papa was without you, the angrier he’d get. He didn’t have a bad temper - he wasn’t particularly frightening or inconsiderate of your own feelings. In fact, in all the years you’d known him, you only ever heard him raise his voice in anger twice. Usually, he was a calm, rational man who would take himself off to calm down and then address the irritation with a clear head and logical reasoning. But you weren’t where he’d left you - he needed you to be where he left you.

That was never more apparent than when he saw you for the first time since the show ended, paints cracked and smeared from sweat and hair slicked back with the same substance, tousled from exertion and probably worry. His eyes flickered with a range of emotions; fear, relief, then rage. He stopped the Sibling from talking by raising his hand (uncharacteristically rudely) and stormed over to you.

“Papa, I-”

His gloved hands wrapped around your biceps and he held you at arm’s length, examining your clothed body for imperfections or injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“No, Papa.”

“Did anyone frighten you?”

“No, Papa.”

“Mentally and emotionally, are you okay?”

“Mostly, Papa.”

“Percentage, schricchio.”

“Ninety, Papa.”

“Then where the fuck did you go?”

“I’m sorry, Papa!” You explained to him the situation from start to finish, leaving out only the older Sibling’s name which you didn’t know. The look of fury on his face was unlike anything you had ever seen before.

“What did I tell you when you first came on tour with me?”

“I answer only to you, Papa. I know but-”

“Don’t ‘but’ me, schricchio!”

“I tried calling you but-”

“Back talk? Really?”

You averted your eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry, Papa.”

“Barricade, now.”

“What?”

“Barricade.”

“But, Papa, I-”

“Do not make me ask you again.”

He practically frog marched you over to one of the remaining pieces of the barricade that had been left by the venue workers who were clearing away. He positioned you against it so that your elbows were using it for support and pulled your hips out so that your ass was placed at the perfect and accessible angle. That was when you’d noticed that all eyes had been on you both the entire time, watching Papa scolding you and putting you in a precarious position. You hated the feeling, knowing that their scrutinising eyes were judging every single thing you did while also hoping that they could stay for a show. But there was a part of you, deep down - way down - that loved the idea that they were hoping they could stay for a show. There was something so animalistic about the way Papa would take you in front of, at most, one hundred people. Like he was claiming you for his own and showing the world just who the fuck you belonged to.

“Um, Papa?”

“Eh?”

You gestured to the audience that had now gathered around the arena and Papa sighed, exasperated by the nerve of some people. How dare they watch as he prepares to take you in the pit of a public place? “I am going to fuck my partner now,” he announced loudly, “I’d prefer it if you left, but I will be inside of her whether you are here or not.”

Swiss’ loud voice boomed from the corner of the room. “Alright, everyone, wrap it up. Take a twenty minute break or something, I don’t know. Let’s go!”

As people began filing out of the arena, Papa began making short work of your bottom half, pulling your jeans and panties all the way down. You weren’t entirely wet for him just yet, not as soaked as he would like, but he would rectify that soon enough. He spat on his leather glove, the sound of it echoing through the now empty arena and going straight to your cunt. He rubbed his saliva-covered gloves over your folds, artificially slicking them up for him to be able to sink himself into.

“You deliberately disobeyed me, schricchio.” He told you, rubbing circles over your clit and softly breaching your walls with his thumb. “You left your Papa wanting and waiting, didn’t you?” He tutted. The way the soft leather of his glove stroked over you felt like melted butter being poured onto your body. You sighed as the pleasure began to grow, your knees growing weak at the stimulation. “What should you say to your Papa?”

“I’m s-sorry, Papa!” You said, moans beginning to creep up and escape your throat as he applied more pressure to the fingers working over your clit.

“Do you think this is acceptable? Do you think only an apology is acceptable?”

“No, Papa.” In actuality, you did think that was acceptable. He got to use you now, didn’t he? What more could you do?

“Hmm.”

Papa remained quiet from that moment on, watching from behind you as your slick began to coat his hand and listening with fascination as your moans got louder. His thumb that was inside you, never went any deeper than the first knuckle, barely providing you with the right amount of pleasure and teasing your hole, stretching you, but ignoring the deep ache from within. He, occasionally, would let out the odd grunt or groan here and there, but for the most part he was laser focussed on your own pleasure, making sure you got everything you were now craving.

This was what he loved about fucking you: it never took you long to get as wet as he wanted or needed. He loved that he could take you at any point, and with just a little effort he could get you ready for him within minutes. That you would willingly spread your legs and beg for his cock to be deep inside you as if you’d been craving it all day, or that it was the only antidote to a deadly poison. It never seemed to matter which appendage he used on you, you would always be mewling for him and screaming for him to let you cum.

“P-Papa, I’m close!”

Papa, ever the lover of condescension in the bedroom, used that tone of voice with you. “Oh, you are? My little schricchio wants to cum on her Papa’s fingers?”

“Yes, Papa. Please!”

He stopped his ministrations and pulled his hand away. “No.”

Your eyes widened and you looked back at him. “No! Please!”

“You really think you deserve to cum after the shit you pulled today? Non ci posso credere. Sono deluso. I thought you knew better than this.”

Papa Copia, like most men, had a weakness: desperation. When you hung yourself off of him absolutely begging for anything, you knew you’d get your way eventually. And so, with this in mind, you dropped to your knees, your delicate skin hitting the cold, hard (and very dirty) concrete floor. You gripped onto Papa’s thick thighs clad in the tightest of skinny jeans as he’d not changed into his sweats yet, and began mouthing at the cloth over his deliciously hard cock. “Please, Papa. I’m so sorry for what I did. I should have listened to you. I should have listened to my Papa because he knows what’s best for his little slut.”

“Cazzo.” He muttered under his breath, watching you degrade yourself for him. He could almost pretend that you were worshipping him when you were doing this.

“Please give me your cock, Papa. Please let me make you feel good. I want you to fuck my tight, little cunt and fill me with your cum. Please, Papa.”

Resisting you was not a skill he had. He placed the same hand that was inside of you and now covered in your slick on your chin, and gently pushed you away from his cock. He forced you to look him in the eyes, and a brief gentility washed over his face as he drank in the way you looked; how sinfully innocent you looked right now for him, begging him to fuck you.

“H-hands and knees, schricchio.” He told you, the usual Papa jumping out for a moment as his voice was that sweet, soft timbre that you heard when he comforted you.

You, his obedient hole, did as asked, dropping to your hands and arching your back for him. You were hoping to tempt him into total distraction and give you enough time to make yourself cum. Papa walked behind you, dropped to his back, lying on top of the jeans around your ankles and pulling your hips down so you were sitting on his face and dove into your cunt, licking the sodden folds in front of him and his tongue playing with your sensitive clit. But as soon as his tongue was on you, it vanished, to be quickly replaced by two fingers poking at your entrance, sliding in without a fight and starting to work right away. Your position allowed his gloved fingers to curve upwards and strike the part of you that made you scream.

The squelch of your heat grew louder with his roughness as he started to finger you harder to amplify your cries as much as he could. He enjoyed the thought of other people hearing how good he was making you feel. You could feel yourself teetering on the brink from the way his fingers were moving inside of you and how forcefully he sucked on your clit. Upon the tightness, he pulled his fingers out of you and placed his hands on your ass cheeks, pushing you off of him. “Papa, no!” You howled. “Please!”

Papa laughed and wiggled his way from out under you. “I know your game, schricchio. Non vincerai.”

He got on his knees and began rubbing his clothed cock over your waiting hole, essentially dry humping you on the floor of the arena that he’d just performed in. He was doing the utmost to make you suffer. He wouldn’t do this for very long, given the roughness of his jeans and your sensitive clit, but when it wasn’t painful, it was very enjoyable. Infuriatingly taunting… but enjoyable.

When he decided he was bored of that, you heard the sound of him pulling at the strings that fastened his jeans closed. Papa didn’t wear underwear with these jeans - they were too tight and he said you could see the outline. He punished you for your cheek when you told him that he was slutting himself out for his congregation. Once his cock was free of its confines, he began rubbing it over your sensitive clit once more, earning much louder whines from your throat. At this point, you were tired of the teasing and just wanted to feel him deep inside you, but he knew this and had no intention of relieving you of your pain. Not yet, at least.

“This is hurting me just as much as it hurts you.” Papa told you, wrapping his hands around your hips and using them as leverage to thrust against you. “Papa wants to feel your sloppy cunt around his cock. Papa wants to fuck his toy after a hard day’s work. But his toy decided she wasn’t going to do her job.”

“I’m sorry, Papa. Please!”

“No, bella ragazza. You can do better than that.”

“Papa, I’m sorry for walking away. I want you to use me.”

“Try again.”

“I want you to fuck my tight cunt until I can’t breathe. Use my hole like it’s a toy to compensate for my bad behaviour. I’m yours to play with and use as you want. Please use me, Papa!”

He chuckled darkly. “See? Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Instead of waiting for your cunt to become accustomed to his size, he aligned himself with your hole and thrust all the way to the hilt. “Take it all.” He told you, his voice low and gravelly, laced with arousal that made you tightened around him.

He started working swiftly, snapping his hips against yours quickly and hitting that spot right behind your pussy, which made you scream every time. “Fuck, Papa!” You yelled. “I love it when you use me!”

Your ass jiggled more than usual as you arched your back for him once more and moved your hips to meet his thrusts. He let out a string of expletives in Italian, each one letting you know how much of a whore you were to him and how wicked your pussy felt. You must have been some kind of witch to cast a spell on him so, for he had never loved a cunt more than yours. He had never loved fucking someone more than he did you - how responsive your body was to him. It was beautiful.

Your own hand reached down to tickle your clit trying to move subtly and hoping he wasn’t watching you play with yourself. He was. He was just being evil.

“Schricchio, always so tight for me.” He observed the pussy cream collecting at the base of his cock. “You fucking love this don’t you? You love getting fucked in the middle of an arena, hanging off your Papa’s cock when anyone could come in and take a seat.” Your cunt tightened. “Puttana. You want someone to come in and watch, don’t you? Maybe I - Sathanas - maybe I should have done this on stage when the whole audience was here, hm? Used you in front of thousands.”

You rubbed your clit faster. Obviously you wouldn’t enjoy that in real life, but the thought of him taking you in front of everyone sent a shiver down your spine, and made your cunt tighten around his cock. Perhaps it was the taboo of it that got you off, or just the primal thought of being mounted and claimed in front of everyone. You couldn’t tell. But it definitely did something to you that you couldn’t deny.

“Keep squeezing me like that, schricchio, and I’ll cum too soon.”

A switch turned on a lightbulb moment in your head. You wouldn’t win? Try it. “I don’t know, P-Papa.” You said, trying to feign a more innocent voice through his thrusts that forced out moans. “I think you like that idea more than me. Fuck! I think you want to show everyone just how much you like fucking your toy. I think you want people to watch you claim what’s yours.”

“Cazzo!”

“The world already loves you, Papa. The Church loves you. They’d want to watch you bury yourself deep inside me.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You worked your hand faster. “Cum inside me, Papa. Give it to me. Give me everything, please!” Faster. Almost there.

Knowing what you were doing, Papa pulled your hand away from your clit and pushed your body down so you were completely flush to the floor. A few pumps later, and he was spilling his seed deep inside you, painting your walls white with himself. The noise that escaped him was like a feral animal, all deep growls and grunts as his rough thrusts came to a slow stop, all the while you were pinned to the floor, your orgasm ebbing away with each second that passed with no stimulation.

“Copia, you asshole!” You screeched from below him. You were angry, sure, but mostly frustrated. He would never usually leave you without an orgasm. But he pulled out of you before you insulted him, and had already got to his feet. He said nothing, just laughed at you as he tucked himself back into his jeans and made himself presentable.

“Well, a punishment is a punishment after all, no? What would you learn if I made you cum, hm? Stand up, schricchio. Let’s get you dressed.”

“Fuck off.”

“Ah-ah. Wouldn’t want me to take more orgasms off you, would you?”

You dressed yourself, hating the smug look on his fucked out face.

“I told you you wouldn’t win.”

“Vaffanculo!” You shouted, storming away.

Copia laughed again, knowing how later on tonight you’d be desperately humping against his thigh like a desperate slut begging for an orgasm… and how, after that display, he’d deny you again.

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