#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.

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[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.”

[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.

[voyager-99]

little wip of a personal project i guess

individual panels for it :3

[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?”

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you! Also if you'd prefer to only be tagged in my reader insert stuff that's ok! Feel free to let me know!

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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!

[Prev] [Next]

“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]

[da-rulah]

Rituale Septem - Day 2: Sloth

Pairing: (Phantom x f!reader)

Summary: With one sin down, your focus is on day two; the sin of sloth. Terzo sends his Ghouls to take care of your every need, so you don't have to lift a finger...

Rating: Mature, MDNI 18+

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: Male masturbation, soft dom (f), m sub, sort of a servant dynamic (but fully consensual), fingering, grinding, p in v sex, pulling out

AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

A/N: So, I became a Ghost fan in July, which means I don't know anything about Terzo era Ghouls and would have struggled hugely to write them. I'm aware that Swiss and Dew/Sodo were very briefly on stage with Terzo? (I think?) or at least had silver masks with Cardinal Copia like they do in this fic, but Phantom wouldn't have. Just, for arguments sake, picture them as 'trainee Ghouls', and so have all got silver masks. Thanks. Love ya.

Prev: Day 1 - Lust | Next: Day 3 - Gluttony

Terzo didn’t sleep well that night.  

You may have expected him to, spent and exhausted from your exploits together that afternoon but he was wide awake. His head swam with images of you, his cock thickening as he recounted the noises you’d made for him, the way you’d felt around him...  

Perhaps it was the pent up lust that had built whilst you had teased each other mercilessly that made his attraction to you so strong – he assumed it would pass, a minor infatuation as he had had many times before. He simply liked how you had fought back against his own teasing and come ready to seduce him right back, giving him a taste of his own medicine.  

This week of rituals with himself and whoever else was invited to play with you was the most fresh and exciting injection of vitality to his sex drive he noted in recent years. However, he knew that he couldn’t partake in every ritual each day of the week – he wasn’t the one who needed Lucifer’s guidance. That was you. He was simply a supporting role, but he did know that that first sin with you would not be his last this week.  

With his cock hard and aching beneath the silk sheets of his bedding, he grumbled in frustration as his mind swam with more images of taking you as he wished, giving you as much pleasure as you could take before finally giving in himself. He found himself wanting nothing more than to please you, to give you what you needed, to help you.  

Terzo’s bare hand snaked across his stomach, giving in to his needs and wrapping his fingers around the base of his solid length to pump himself in time with the footage replaying in his mind's eye of his deep thrusts inside you. He groaned and growled to himself in the darkness of his bedroom, blissfully recounting the memories of that afternoon.  

“Ohh, Principessa...” he whispered into the night, climax building embarrassingly fast, but he couldn’t help himself. Within just a few minutes, he was releasing a hurried and powerful load onto the hair across the expanse of his chest.  

‘Just an infatuation’, he told himself. ‘This, too, shall pass.’ 

October 26th  

You had every intention of getting up on time. You really did. But when your alarm had sounded, you’d perhaps smashed the snooze button a little too hard and rolled over into another light sleep that became a rather deep sleep. 

It was a pounding on your door that woke you – a strong knock, almost aggressive. You shot up from the bed in your nightdress, uncaring of your modesty when the only person you knew would be at your door knocking this angrily would be Secondo.  

You were late for work, judging by the sunlight that crept through the cracks of your curtains, and the October chill in the air of your humble little living quarters sent a chill washing over you when you’d peeled your bedsheets back. The knocking persisted, aggressive and loud; only Secondo would be this angry at your tardiness.  

As you reached the door that was still being pounded against by his angry fist, you stumbled and latched onto the handle, wrenching it open with a litany of apologies spilling frantically from your mouth. You were never late for Secondo. Just once was a potentially sackable offense. 

“Sister, calm down. I’m not Secondo...”  

When you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and actually looked at whoever was at the door, you realised that it indeed wasn’t Secondo at all. It was a ghoul, silver shining mask glinting as if just polished. 

One of the newer ones, only a few weeks into his role and still in his training phase. And here you were in a satin nightdress that did nothing to hide your pebbled nipples in the cold air of your room – and even behind his mask, you didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked down and widened when he noticed. Heat spread across your face in embarrassment, and you hid yourself behind the door, head poking from around the corner to talk to the ghoul.  

He shook his head as if to rid himself of the image before he continued.  

“Sorry, uh... Phantom, Sister. I’ve been sent by Papa?” he seemed just as confused as you did. 

“S-Secondo sent a ghoul for me?” Your stomach dropped, knowing that if he hadn’t come to get you himself it was because he was too busy to – because you weren’t there to help him with his workload. And he’d be more pissed than you imagined. “Shit!” 

“Oh, no! Sorry, I’m not... I wasn’t sent by Secondo, but Papa Terzo. He asked me to give you this?” he reached into the pocket of his trousers and handed you an envelope addressed to ‘Principessa’; his crest embedded in the wax seal on the back. Butterflies rammed your stomach lining as if they themselves were trying to get to the letter in his hand. You took it from him and ripped into it anxiously...  

Good morning, Principessa.  Did you sleep well last night? I certainly did not. Too much on my mind after yesterday... Each time I shut my eyes expecting the usual black void, all I could see was purple... I suppose you could say, I had my hands full most of the night. Imagine a wink, here.   I believe you will need your rest today, no? You seemed somewhat sleepy when I last saw you yesterday. I can’t imagine why... but I have arranged for you to have the day off. I have some rules for you to follow, however, and they MUST be followed.   1. You are not to lift a finger, all day. This includes walking, eating, drinking - anything. (I will only make exceptions for using the bathroom and breathing.)  2. Ghouls will be on hand to help you through the day. First, our newest Ghoul, Phantom, will be at your beck and call. Go easy on him, he’s a nuisance but he’s quite shy.  3. The Ghouls are there willingly to help you with ALL of your needs. They are consenting and on hand should you need... anything.  4. If you have any questions, you send them to me via. Ghoul. You do not leave your abode today, you stay put and enjoy your lazy day.   Break my rules, and the ritual is over. I will come and see you when I get a spare moment this evening.   Put my Ghouls to good use, Sorella.  Papa Emeritus III 

You looked over the cursive and furrowed your brows. His cheek shone through even in his handwriting, toying with you and clearly enjoying it. You did have to smirk a little that you’d made your way so far into his head that your choice of lingerie had haunted him as he’d tried to sleep. ‘Had my hands full most of the night’... Did he mean what you thought he meant?  

“So... you’re like, waiting on me?” you asked Phantom, who stood patiently waiting at your threshold.  

“I guess so. He told me to take care of every need that arose. I can't let you do anything yourself. He didn’t say why, but told me he’d send me to the ninth circle of hell for treachery if I failed...” he explained, scratching the back of his neck anxiously.  

“Oh... he wouldn’t do that, Phantom. Just so you know,” you tried to reassure him. 

“You didn’t see the look on his face...” he chuckled, absolutely no humour behind it. “Still, he gave me a choice and explained what today entailed. I agreed. So uh, anything you need, I’m at your service.”  

You wondered if he had deliberately emphasised part of that on purpose, sounding somewhat suggestive... And then it dawned on you.  

Papa was giving you an easy way to perform sin today.  

Sloth. 

“Well, I suppose you’d better come in then,” you smiled, opening the door and stepping away from it, modesty long forgotten. Phantom stepped inside, nervously ringing his hands and standing awkwardly in the cramped little living space between your couch and practically ancient TV set. You moved to sit on the couch, getting comfortable seeing as you were apparently confined to it for the day. 

“C-can I get you anything, sister?” he asked, eager to please already.  

“Uh... I haven’t had breakfast yet?” 

“On it!” he hurried, trotting into your little kitchenette, fishing through your fridge and cupboard to pull together ingredients to make you something from scratch, while you flicked on the TV to some pretentious morning show and kept an eye on the ghoul making a mess and a racket in your kitchen. 

Perhaps a day off, lounging around and not lifting a finger would be nice... 

Secondo was positively seething as he stomped into Terzo’s office, not bothering to knock and ignoring Sister Christine’s attempts to stall or calm him.  

“Ah, come on in, fratello,” Terzo invited with sarcasm dripping from every word and a smug smile on his painted face. 

“You gave my assistant the day off?! What right do you have? Do you know how much work I have to do?” he yelled, slamming his fist down on Terzo’s desk. “I think your title is going to your testone, fratellino (fat head, little brother)...” 

Terzo’s smug smile vanished and a look of vague annoyance took over as he rose from his chair, readying for confrontation. 

“And you seem to forget you lost yours,” he taunted. Secondo’s eyes widened before he grabbed the collar of his brother's shirt, pulling him far enough over the desk he could headbutt him if the need arose. 

“Attento a come parli (watch your mouth),” he warned through grit teeth. He pushed Terzo back and took a step away from the desk. “Sister ____ is my staff. You had no authority!” 

“Actually, I think you’ll find I do. I’m sure you’ll manage a singular day without her.”  

Secondo knew there was no use in arguing with his brother, both ridiculously stubborn men in their own right. He huffed and turned to leave, shoes clacking loudly on the stone flooring. 

“You work her too hard, fratello mio...” Terzo smirked. Secondo span on his heels, chewing the inside of his cheek to stop an onslaught of abuse from spilling from him like word vomit. 

“Me?! You insolent little shit. I’m sure you worked her harder than necessary yesterday,” he accused. “What, is she your next little fixation? Your new little prediletta (favourite)?” 

He couldn’t explain why, but Secondo’s insinuation that you were just another notch on his bedpost annoyed him more than being interrupted and screamed at in the first place. Sure, he had a reputation as a ladies’ man – and a man’s man too, for that matter – but perhaps it was merely Secondo’s tone that bothered him.  

“Perhaps, before you judge, you would care to ask why your assistant is suddenly spending time with me after very little interaction at all in the past sixteen years since she took her vows, hm?” 

Secondo laughed bitterly. “Please, do enlighten me!” 

Terzo stalled for a moment – he wasn’t sure you wanted anybody else knowing, much less your boss. But if he was being this much trouble on day two of the seven, he could get in the way and ruin your chances at completing the ritual at all. If Secondo knew, perhaps he would step back, and allow you your chance to find yourself at the end of these seven days... 

“She is performing a ritual. A very intense and laborious ritual. It takes place over seven days, and it must happen now, before All Hallow’s Eve.” 

Secondo’s brow furrowed and his eyes squinted in suspicion, curiously searching the archives in his mind full of rituals and spells he had learned over the years. And then it dawned on him... 

“Rituale Septem?” he barely whispered the name, shocked you would even attempt such a thing. He didn’t think you the type to be comfortable with such an extensive and invasive ritual. “Why would she need to speak with The Dark One?” 

“She feels lost, fratello. I’m trying to guide my flock back onto a path she is able to see for herself. Do you understand?” 

“Are you telling me she... is experiencing doubts?” For the first time in Satan knew how many years, Terzo saw hurt flash across his brother’s face. His hardened exterior was always a mask, that much was true, but the mention that perhaps the closest person he had to a friend in the ministry was doubting her position, doubting her faith... it stung him, and his mask slipped for just a moment. 

“It’s not personal, Secondo. We mustn’t take it as such. But yes, she is doubting Him. Is it not my job to attempt whatever necessary when she is so desperate to hear His voice?” 

Secondo thought for a moment, slowly sitting down in one of the chairs in front of Terzo’s desk.  

“Sì, sì... Non ne avevo idea (I had no idea)…" he sighed. “Why would she not feel she could come to me?” His genuine confusion and disappointment were clear in his voice. He knew his rituals so well, had the deepest knowledge of anyone in the Ministry. He could have helped you, surely? 

“Fratello, I mean no disrespect when I say this but... you are not the most emotionally available man to open up to, se sai cosa voglio dire (if you know what I mean). I believe she was worried you would be angry at her for her doubts,” Terzo explained, a gentility to his voice. He knew you meant more to Secondo than simply an employee. You don't work side by side with someone for six years and not develop some form of relationship.

Secondo’s mind ticked over, before he settled upon understanding rather than jumping straight into defensiveness. As much as he would like to, he couldn’t argue with that. Instead, he conceded, wanting nothing more than to help in any way he could. 

“What do you need from me?” His head snapped up to look at Terzo who stood watching in amazement at his change in demeanour.  

“Your co-operation,” he pleaded. “Today I’ve planned sloth for her. She must stay home and not lift a finger all day.” 

“Concordato (agreed). Anything else?” 

Terzo thought for a moment, going over the plans he had made for the week ahead to see if there was indeed anything Secondo could do.  

“Actually, sì... There is perhaps one particular sin you would be very useful for...” 

Your morning was, indeed, as lazy as Papa had intended for you. Phantom took three attempts to make an edible batch of pancakes since he categorically said no to every time you went to move from the couch and help him. He was right, of course. You had to stay put, but it wasn’t natural for you and it took fighting every natural instinct in your body not to help or tend to your needs yourself.  

He’d done everything for you that morning, carrying you if you needed to walk, spoon-feeding you like a roman emperor (although you’re sure Julius Caesar didn’t have to sit through three rounds of ‘here comes the choo-choo train’). It felt wrong, but wasn’t that entirely the point? Sinning.  

But you hadn’t expected it to feel so icky – icky being the only word appropriate for how the feeling of lording over someone as your servant made you feel a little drunk with power. And with Phantom so eager to please, running here, there and everywhere for you, you were fighting hard not to let the power go to your head.  

As the morning dragged on, you became increasingly aware of the fact he was here to tend to any need you had, mulling over how he had made it abundantly clear that he was here and willing. Well, you could tell that in his eagerness to please, rushing to your side whenever you needed something and going above and beyond to make you comfortable. He was being a good little servant, and a part of you was ready to test the waters, so to speak... 

“Phantom, would you do something for me?” you asked, to which his masked head snapped to you from where he sat watching daytime TV with you, and he nodded fervently. “I... could do with a bath... would you mind running one for me?”  

Even behind the silver eye holes you saw enough to see his eyes widen. “S-sure, yeah... Bubbles and stuff?” he asked.  

“Hmm,” you hummed, eyes fluttering closed as you imagined the warmth of aromatic waters submerging you, “please...”  

When you looked, Phantom’s jaw had gone slack, and the poor Ghoul was staring intently at you. He jumped up with a startling speed with a “yes, sister!” and scurried off into your bathroom where you heard the faucets squeaking in protest and a heavy flow of water hitting the tub’s surface. You smirked a little at his enthusiasm, playing with the lace hem of your nightdress you were yet to change out of. You watched in delight as he scurried in and out of your little apartment gathering supplies you didn’t have to hand from Papa Primo’s gardens and the store cupboards near the chapel.  

It took him 20 minutes before he was satisfied with the bath he’d drawn for you, stepping out of the bathroom and stopping in the doorway to announce it was ready. You began to stand, only to have him on his knees in front of you in a flash with a scream of “No! No...” and hands on your bare knees. He looked down at where his flesh had come into contact with your own and jumped back a little in shock.  

“I mean, I’ll... I have to carry you.” 

“Oh, of course. Silly me,” you smiled sweetly, as if this wasn’t exactly your plan – a power play. Because whether you saw it yet, or not, being waited on hand and foot, treated with respect that verged on worship was beginning to go to your head a little. 

He slipped his arms under your knees, the other around your back and lifted you effortlessly bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom where he sat you on the edge of the tub. Frankly, you couldn’t believe the effort he’d gone to... 

From Papa Primo’s stores, the water was filled with aromatic flowers and oils, bubbles stacked high at one end as steam rose from the surface. From the chapel’s store cupboards, the room was alight with black candles on every available surface, a soft warm glow flickering around the small room.  

“I’ll um, let you... undress,” he nodded shyly as your nightgown and stood, turning his back to you and averting his gaze from the steamed mirror for good measure. But you had other ideas... 

“Phantooooom,” you whined, “I don’t think I can. I’m not supposed to do anything today...”  

You saw his shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath, as if he were doing his best to remain composed, before he slowly turned around and nodded. He stepped towards you, hands trembling a little, as he knelt and began to push the hem of your nightdress up your thighs slowly. He seemed to be savouring the moment a little, maybe it was just nerves, but you could see him bite his lip the higher the satin rose.  

As it grazed over your hips, lifting up past your ass with a bit of a shuffle from you, you could hear the way he gulped, eyes trained on the skimpy panties you had underneath. His anguish only got worse when lifting higher, your bare breasts were exposed before him, and you raised your arms to allow him to easily remove the nightdress completely.  

You smiled at him softly, waiting for him to continue and giving him the green light to do so. He exhaled a breath he’d been holding, fingers curling into the hem of your panties at your hips where he began to drag them down your thighs. He refused to look at where he’d now exposed, a blush spreading across his face that he was grateful was hidden by his mask. He felt a sense of shame for being even remotely turned on by this, but the shame was so exciting. For him, and for you... 

To save him a little from combusting and leaving scorch marks on your bathroom floor, you crossed your legs in what could be considered a very seductive looking pose, and ran your fingers through the water behind you with a soft hum. 

“Is...is the temperature okay?” he asked, strictly looking only at your face and your face alone. 

“Perfect, thank you, Phantom,” you reached your dry hand to pinch gently and affectionately at his exposed chin. “Would you mind?” 

He shook his head, again moving to roll his shirt sleeves up his arms and lifting you bridal style, gently lowering you into the water. As you sank into the water in his arms, you let a satisfied little moan slip from your lips, and felt the way his arms tensed. Now fully bathed, he stood and wiped his forearms on a towel and went to exit the room, leaving you with privacy and giving him a chance to calm down and uh... soften up. 

So, when you stopped him, and asked him to sit with you because you “wanted someone to talk to”, he inwardly groaned and agreed. He was trying so desperately to avoid temptation, to only act on requests as Papa had told him to do.  

“You only do the things she asks of you, Phantom. You do not try to seduce her, hai capito? (understand)? You do not make any moves. You let her come to you, if she wishes. You respect her wishes, sì?” 

Of course, he’d respect your wishes. He would never do anything untoward, never push you or attempt to guide you to him. He was very much aware you held the power today and if he was being honest, he much preferred it that way. 

But you were making it so hard for him to remain professional when all he wanted was to beg and plead for you to let him take care of you.  

Especially when you asked him to wash you.  

He found himself on his knees beside the tub, carefully and slowly scrubbing at the expanse of your chest, watching the suds wash away and the shine of the water glinting in the candlelight on your skin. It was hypnotising, and your little moans of bliss were killing him slowly, like hands squeezing the life out him by the neck.  

You slipped down further into the tub, your legs bent and parting to make way for him to trail the washcloth between your thighs where a heat was blooming aside from the warmth of the water. He got the message, averting his eyes and running the washcloth over your core gently. You moaned again, this time a little louder at the pressure to where you needed it. Before he knew what he was doing, he was moaning too at the sound and the strain in his pants.  

His eyes shot open and his head snapped to stare at you, hand clutching the washcloth stilling in shock and fear. 

“I-I... Sister, I... I’m so sorr-” he began to apologise frantically, his hand started to retreat until you grabbed his wrist and stilled him.  

“Do you want to stop?” you asked him honestly, giving him an option to back out now if he wished.  

He shook his head. “I... want to please,” he admitted.  

Slowly, you let go of his wrist, laying back against the tub with eyes trained on his. Gradually his hand resumed, dragging the washcloth between your legs and sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You arched your back a little, eyes closing and lips parting.  

His movements remained slow, deliberate. He watched your face contort and your body writhe as the sensations built. On his knees, his own hips began to buck in search of some sort of pressure against his hidden erection. His spare hand groped and squeezed at himself, little grunts sounding every so often that made your lips quirk up into a smirk.  

“D-does it... feel okay?” he asked. The poor Ghoul beside the tub was struggling, and when you opened your eyes to look at him, a pang of lust speared its way through your chest. 

His lips were reddened and swollen, paint long gone from where he’d been biting at them. You could see his arm moving, but not where, and you drew your own conclusion that Phantom was in fact touching himself.  

“It feels amazing...” you purred, reaching a hand out to trace the metal of his mask down to his exposed chin, fingers wet and warm with bath water. “You’re doing so good, Phantom.”  

The whimper that came from the man in front of you was pathetic, but it made your walls clench around nothing. He liked that.  

Only then did you realise the details of the events leading to now. He wanted to please you, to bow to your every whim. He was whimpering just at making you feel good, and when you praised him? If that whimper was anything to go by, in tandem with the way his hips bucked into his own grasp, this was a man who liked being powerless to you.  

He liked being your servant.  

“Will you use your fingers, Phantom? I need more...” you asked. 

“Wh-whatever you need, sister...” He let go of the washcloth immediately, letting it float to the surface of the bath to be replaced by his fingers heading straight for your clit. You gasped at the contact, finally feeling the pressure you needed where he’d worked you up.  

The hand on his groin grasped his hard on tightly, staving off a premature climax that would surely embarrass him.  

His fingers circled your bundle of nerves with fervour, desperate to please and have you come undone. Ripples of ecstasy flowed through your body, moans and whines spilling freely from you. It was music to his ears, hearing how good he was making you feel. 

“I-inside, Phantom. Please,” you begged, parting your legs as wide as you could for him. He growled, the hand on his crotch gripping the edge of the bathtub as he leaned over you, dipping his fingers through your folds before easily slipping two inside of you. You cried out, feeling full and immediately alive with electricity jolting through your veins.  

You gripped onto the collar of his shirt, pulling him further over you as you writhed under him. His fingers curled and fucked into your heat, hitting where you needed him most.  

“Shit, just like that...” His movements weren’t particularly gentle, but the aggression wasn’t just pure aggression, but desperation. How badly he wanted to give you the pleasure you sought... 

When you looked over at him, you could see his hips bucking against nothing, hopelessly rutting into the air for any friction he could muster. From what you could see of his face, he looked wrecked. His lips were curled back over his teeth which grit together at the strain, his eyes wide and watery as if he would cry if you ever made him stop now. 

You felt sorry for him, chasing a high he wouldn’t get so long as he continued to fuck into the air like this. And who were you to deny him the same pleasure he was so eager to give you? 

“Ph-Phantom... look at me,” you tugged once at his collar, his eyes finding yours but hand never slowing. He could have cum just from the fucked out look on your face alone. “Will you... will you fuck me?” you asked breathlessly.  

His fingers rammed into you harder at the thought and you screamed out, pulling him towards you, your forehead clashing with the forehead of his mask. You stared darkly into his eyes.  

“If you want me to...” he growled, “Sathanas, tell me you want me to...” he begged. 

You pushed his arm away from your cunt and sat up onto your knees before leaning over the opposite end of the bathtub and arching your back, giving him an eyeful of your exposed cunt glistening in the candlelight as the bathwater sloshed and lapped at your skin. 

“Fuck me, Phantom...” you instructed. In a flash, the Ghoul stood and leapt into the tub, water and flower petals spilling over the sides and splashing to the floor. He was too far gone, too fucking desperate to even think about removing his clothes or boots and he cursed to himself when he realised what he’d done, but made no moves to rectify it – it was too late for that anyway.  

Instead, he knelt and unzipped the fly of his pants, pushed his suspenders off his shoulders and pushed them down with his underwear just enough for his length to spring free. He took a deep breath, steadying himself and slowly ran the head of his cock through your folds. His free hand came to rest on your hips, gently squeezing the flesh there and stroking his thumb over the skin. 

You waited patiently, letting him enjoy the moment as you relaxed in his hold, leaning lazily over the edge of the tub with your head on your arms. Slowly, he pushed himself inside you, a cracked groan leaving his throat with each inch that sank into you. Somehow, you felt warmer and wetter than the bathwater that surrounded his legs – and it felt glorious. 

His thrusts began slow, savouring the feeling as whimpers and shudders shook his body behind you. He got lost in his own pleasure for a moment before remembering you were his prime concern, your pleasure more important that his own. He wanted to be good for you, for you to tell him he was being good for you again.  

“Is this... oh fuck, is this okay?” he asked as he set his pace, fishing for compliments. He sounded like he was pleading with you, needily pleading for affirmations. 

“So good, Phantom... Such a good boy for me, hm?”  

The noise that erupted from the Ghoul behind you shocked even you, an involuntary cry that sparked him to rut his hips against you until the water around him splashed and sloshed around the pair of you, the sounds of wet skin slapping together ricocheting off the tiled walls of your bathroom. His pace was unforgiving, slamming over and over again into your g-spot and forcing cry after cry of pleasure to erupt from within you.  

His hand reached around you, coming to sit between your thighs as his fingers worked your clit, his chest – still covered by his now soaked shirt – resting against your back. Coupling Phantom’s hard work with the feeling of the warmth of the water and the aromatic floral scents you felt like you’d reached a type of bliss you’d only ever read about. Your eyes fluttered shut, teeth biting into the flesh of your arm where you lay on it to quiet your moans. 

Before long the heat in your abdomen grew, coil winding tightly and dangling you on the edge of climax while his cock and fingers worked so hard to tip you over. All you needed was a little bit of extra help – you needed to know what Phantom was thinking. 

“H-how does it feel, sweetie?” you asked him in your most condescending voice you could muster while he pounded into you. You felt his hand on your hip squeeze your flesh hard. 

“So good... you feel so good, sister.” 

“You’re being so good, Phantom. My good boy, hm?” you praised.  

“F-fuck, yes... your good boy. I’m... I’m your good boy,” he whined, affected by your praise more than you could have imagined. 

“Are you... gonna... make me cum, sweetie?” 

“Uh-huh... Yes, ma’am. Want you to cum so bad,” he admitted, “need it!” You were getting so close, that familiar feeling now right on the cusp of snapping. 

“What do you say then, sweetie?” you asked, hoping he’d catch on. And in his current state, his mind bent and broken and filled with nothing but his need to push you into climax before he could, he didn’t need to think. His answer was instinctual.  

“Please!” he yelled, “Please cum for me... N-need to feel you, need it... Please!”  

It was all you needed to send you into a spiral, the coil snapping and springing free as your orgasm washed over you faster than the sloshing water. Your walls tightened around him, cunt squeezing him so hard it was almost impossible to keep up his pace. Your pussy gushed around him, only noticeable in the rocky water by the sheer amount of it when the waves would subside before crashing against your skin with another thrust.  

Phantom lost his mind behind you, biting into his lip and doing his very best to keep up with you, fingers attacking your slit still while he slammed against you. The fog that had overtaken your mind as you came began to clear, the aftershocks powerful still with the way he continued to now chase his own release.  

“Y-your turn now, sweetie,” you coached him through it, giving him the encouragement he’d need to reach his own end now you were fully satiated. When you looked back at him, he looked like he was in pain, the way his eyes were screwed shut and his teeth were bared. “Will you cum for me?” 

“Fuck, can I, ma’am?” he asked, unable to look at you as he continued his thrusts.  

“Yes...” 

"Thank you, ma’am!” he roared, pulling his cock out from where he’d been buried inside you and jerking himself once, twice before spilling his load on the third across the swell of your ass. He fell over you, slipping from his position on his knees and relying on his arms to prop him up on the bathtub to stop him collapsing on top of you. 

The two of you stayed there for a moment, panting, trying to shake off the exhaustion. The water around you both calmed, gentle waves much lower than the water level had been when he’d lowered you into it...  

Eventually, you turned to lay on your back under him, letting the water cover your body but hiding nothing from him now that the bubbles had disappeared. You smiled up at him lazily, tired and satisfied.  

Phantom looked up and around him, then down at his soaked clothes and softening length. He started laughing, shaking his head in disbelief at his own stupidity. You joined him, pulling at the loose suspenders still clipped to the jeans that clung to his thighs as you laughed. 

Eventually he had climbed out of the tub, ringing out his clothes as best he could with them still clinging to him, and wrapped himself in a towel as he concealed himself. Without a change of clothes to hand, he’d have to remain damp.  

He carried you from the tub to your bedroom, clad in a towel yourself and helped you dry off, giving you a new set of loungewear to wear that wasn’t quite as tempting as your previous outfit – there was only so much he could take in one day – and carried you back to the living room, dampening you slightly again with his clothes.  

Just as he’d sat you down, there was a knock at the door. He moved to open it for you as you sat back and relaxed, revealing another two of the Ghouls in training, slightly more experienced than Phantom; Dewdrop and Swiss.  

Swiss cocked his head in confusion, looking Phantom up and down as he took in the clothes that still clung to him.  

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asked him, Dewdrop snickering and looking around him to wave at you. You waved back sheepishly, suddenly embarrassed that you’d have to explain... this. 

“I, um... fell in the bath,” he lied, scratching the back of his neck. “Actually, it’s still kind of a mess, I should, um... clean up the water,” he said, excusing himself to go mop up the excess water from the floor and return your bathroom to a somewhat untouched state. 

“Yeah, you go do that...” Swiss laughed, patting his wet shoulder as he left and stepping inside your apartment with Dewdrop close behind. “How are you, sister?” 

“Uh, yeah good. Relaxed,” you smiled at him as he sat beside you, Dewdrop hovering silently still after shutting your door. From the few weeks these newer Ghouls had been at the ministry, you’d spent a little more time around Swiss. He could do a bit of everything, and you often found him in places you were during your working hours, fetching things for Secondo. 

“I bet you are,” Swiss teased, looking to where the bathroom door lay open, candlelight still flickering. “Did we miss the fun?” Phantom’s head shot up from where he’d been mopping the floor and slammed the door shut with a swift kick. Swiss just laughed.  

“Well, I can’t deny we’re disappointed, Sister. I had hoped maybe he’d have saved a little of you for us,” he motioned to Dewdrop with a nod of his head, “but hey, if there’s anything we can do for you, we’re here. Papa was very clear in his instructions,” he shrugged, sitting back against the couch cushions.  

“Nothing right now, thanks. Just some trash TV,” you chuckled awkwardly.  

“Say no more,” Swiss snapped his fingers at Dewdrop who rolled his eyes and darted into your bedroom, coming back with a blanket and spare pillow for you to cosy yourself up with. He sat on the floor between you and Swiss, back against the couch.  

The day continued much like this. Phantom returned your bathroom to normality then sat himself on a chair in the corner, shy and embarrassed by Swiss’ constant teasing. You binge watched pointless shows and allowed Dewdrop to give you a foot massage, while Swiss worked some form of Black Magic in the kitchen to make the most artery-clogging, delicious ‘lazy-day extravaganza’ as he had put it. Finding yourself full of disgustingly good food and exhausted from the day, you easily drifted to sleep on the couch against Swiss’ shoulder.

Terzo had no idea what he would find when he knocked on your door that evening. Had his Ghouls done as asked? Had you wanted them to go as far as to please the Dark One and help you revel in sin past the laziness of being waited on?  

He was more than willing to step in if he had to; hoped for it, even. You’d been on his mind all fucking day, elements of your afternoon in his office replaying in his mind like a roll of film stuck in a projector. He wanted you again, couldn’t think of anything else as he’d tried so damn hard to get something, anything, done today. 

His knuckles rasped on your door sometime after 8pm, after his final meeting when he could finally scuttle off to find you. Dewdrop answered the door, bowing silently to his Papa and stepping aside to let him in. What he found, was Swiss laying out across the couch, Dewdrop moving to sit on the floor where he’d been all afternoon, and Phantom sat in a chair in the corner, unable to look him in the eye and shivering as if he were cold.  

And... was he damp? 

But you were nowhere in sight.  

“Where is Sorella _____?” he asked them. Swiss, who didn’t look up from the TV in front of him, answered.  

“Her bedroom, Papa. She was, uh...” he looked behind him at Phantom, who’s head hung in shame and arms crossed over his chest to make himself smaller, “quite exhausted after her bath today.” The smile on Swiss’ face – a shit-eating grin of straight lips and pearly teeth – as he looked at Papa told him enough.  

“You didn't think to undress yourself first, Ghoul?” he smirked, scoffing a little. Phantom stayed silent, humiliated. “Go, change. You’re shivering, stupido (stupid [playful]).” 

Phantom stood from the chair nodding, his damp jeans squeaking and sodden boots squelching and rushed past Papa in the doorway, closing the door behind him. Terzo couldn’t really blame him – he'd dive headfirst into a pit of boiling tar if it meant getting to spend another night wrapped up in you.  

In fact, he found himself incredibly disappointed that he wouldn’t get to revel in sin with you today, to let you lazily use him for your own pleasures as he had hoped tonight. He had instructed his Ghouls to take care of your needs, of course, but knowing that they had stirred up a small dose of an ugly emotion in him. Still, there were plenty more opportunities to explore that pleasure with you in the coming days, and he forced himself to think nothing more on the matter. 

Terzo made his way over to your bedroom door, quietly letting himself in and shutting it behind him. Your room was dark, dimly lit by a small lamp in the corner of the room. His eyes adjusted, and he saw you curled up in a ball under the covers, chest rising and falling softly as you slept. He smiled to himself, moving to sit at the edge of your bed, watching you in peace for a moment.  

Quietly, he removed the glove from his right hand, using his now bare fingers to gently move a strand of hair from your face and tuck it back, wanting nothing to obstruct your pretty face from him. Despite his gentility, you stirred with a soft hum and opened your eyes.  

“Papa?” you whispered, squinting at him in the darkness. 

“Buonasera, Principessa, (Good evening, Princess,)” he smiled, “I trust you have done absolutely niente (nothing) all day, sì?”  

You nodded sleepily, “Wasn’t allowed to walk two steps to go to the bathroom.” He chuckled at your incredulous tone – he figured someone as hard-working and self-sufficient as you would have trouble with today’s sin.  

“I hear you don’t need my help this evening, either?” he teased, his hand – which you hadn’t even registered was gloveless – pushed your hair back again. You were grateful for the darkness, hiding the blush forming on your cheeks. “Phantom was still damp when I arrived. Did that idiota really jump in clothed?” he laughed softly. 

You hid your face in your pillow, shy and flustered. “He was a bit excited...” you admitted, muffled by your pillow. Terzo cackled at that. 

“I can’t blame him...” he shrugged. “I shall leave you to sleep then, hm? Go cross Sloth off our little list?”  

You turned your head back, getting comfortable and ready to drift into sleep again. “Should I go back to work tomorrow?” you asked, stifling a yawn. 

“Please. I don’t think Secondo would allow me to keep all of my limbs if you didn’t show again...” he laughed, “but would you join me for dinner tomorrow, Principessa?” 

“Of course, Papa,” you agreed, already looking forward to spending more time with him.  

“Bene (good). Around 7:30pm, my quarters.” He stroked your hair as your eyes drifted closed, sitting with you as the claws of sleep dug themselves firmly back into you. “Buona notte, cara mia... (Goodnight, my dear...)” he whispered. 

The last thing you remembered before darkness took over, was the vague feeling of soft, pillowy lips pressing to your cheek. 

Prev: Day 1 - Lust | Next: Day 3 - Gluttony

A huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading, and @adinferix for fine tuning the Italian translations! 🖤

Tag list:

@call-me-little-sunshine84 @thew0man @zombiesnips-blog @ghuleh-recs @popiaswife @anamelessfool @enchantedbunny @haelithra @aslutforgreyhair @togetherasone @lilylovesdew @copias-sewer-rat @copiaspet622 @deetz-ghuleh @loudwombatmugkid @nimbusghoul @portaltothevoid @adinferix @angellayercake @sodoswitchimage @siouxbauhaus @lydz1977-blog @bitchywitchygardener @sacrificialsake @the-did-i-ask @ghostfangirlsweden @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @copiasprincipessa @gothicwonderlust @ladymer @ghulehunknown @onlyhereforghost @solluna00 @nijiru

[whiskeynwriting]

Comfort

Phantom Ghoul x F!Ghoul Reader

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Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

A/B/O dynamics (only briefly mentioned), vaginal sex, implied poly ghouls, sweet Phantom, slight innocence kink?

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A/N: I can’t believe I haven’t posted something in so long, but here’s an introduction to my new obsession. The band Ghost has completely taken over my life and yes, I absolutely belong to Dewdrop. Thank you and good night.

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The Band Ghost Masterlist

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It wasn’t common for Dew to be gone this long. He wasn’t often chosen for press tours and he didn’t want to be. Dewdrop liked to be at home, in the comfort of his own space and privacy, surrounded by all of his knickknacks and random things that bring him joy. And one of those things, is you. But for the past two weeks, he’s been on an entirely different continent.

You practically live there now, in his room, yours having been abandoned not long after you were summoned. But that’s not exactly where you are right now. Dew’s room could be described as… dismal. But in the most comforting of ways. It’s dark and dreary but that’s what you both like, it’s comfortable- to you, it’s cozy to you. And you’re cozy now too, it’s just… a different kind of cozy, vastly different.

Your small huffs of air are muffled in part by Phantom’s deep purple sheets, his favorite shade. There’s music in the air, notes that were already playing when you’d arrived unprompted at his doorstep. The dangling lights above his bed are glowing and his shades are open, exposing the darkness of night. And if you glance up, you can still see the twinkling stars shining in the sky. A breeze creeps through the window’s screen, having just barely been cracked. And the cool air feels nice on your face, a stark contrast to the heat engulfing the rest of your body.

“You belong to Dew?” He asks, out of breath.

The nod you give paints a smile across Phantom’s sweet face, a sinister grin. He tilts his head then, leaning in to whisper against your neck, “And you’re letting me fuck you?”

This wasn’t uncommon, not at all. It would actually be uncommon if the ghouls didn’t share each other within their pack. There were mates, there were recognized bonds, and still, sharing amongst the Siblings was a regular occurrence.

Nevertheless, Phantom got a kick out of making it taboo.

“Yeah,” Your blissful sigh slips from your parted lips, face plastered with an embarrassingly goofy grin.

Phantom’s gotten quite good at this - taking what he wants, finding his confidence in general but especially in bed. He’s learned a few tricks here and there and before anyone knew it, Phantom had grown his very own personality. You found him endearing, this sweet, naive ghoul. You’re the newest to be summoned and still, he retained his somewhat childlike nature, still seen as the baby of the pack. He often acted like a human teenager, and still does. Horny beyond belief and by far the most inexperienced. And while that may still be true, he now knows how to make it worth your while. Regardless of sex, though, you truly found comfort with him, and he was your safe place when Dew wasn’t within arm’s reach of you.

He has both hands on your hips, gripping you tight but keeping his claws at bay. His body is draped over your back, lean muscles flexing against your soft skin. And he has you from behind, one of his favorite positions. What originally started out with you on your hands and knees has ended up with you currently flat on your stomach, legs spread wide while Phantom humps himself between them with passion and vigor. And in the same breath, he’s still sweet, pressing his lips to the expanse of your upper back, the curve of your shoulder.

Twitching against your warmth, a shudder slips from Phantom’s chest, forcing him to nuzzle into the slope of your neck. Alongside that twitch comes an involuntary wave of his quintessence, prickling your skin and heightening your sensations.

”I want you,” He admits, whining in helpless frustration.

Endearing.

”Want you to be mine so bad, please.” His breaths are heavy, hands sliding from their place on his hips to wrap entirely around your midsection, shoving his hands between your skin and the bedspread. “So bad…”

”I am, baby.” Comes your sweet voice, sucking in a deep breath as you reach up and back. Your fingers find those longer strands of dark hair, curling ever so gently and pulling him impossibly close. And he leans into your movement, of course. “I’m here.” You whisper kindly once his cheek is touching yours, his breaths damp against your skin.

“Don’t tease me… you know what I mean.” The rare baritone to his voice is suddenly shown, a quiver briefly dancing across his upper lip. “Mine, mine.”

Of course, you know what he means. Phantom isn’t mated, and he’s had such puppy love for you since the day you crawled out of the Pit. Though, at the same time, you’re unconvinced of his plea. He’s just horny, that’s all it is.

He can hear and smell the wetness between your legs and it makes him feel fucking feral inside. The slap of his pelvis against your backside has been resonating off his bedroom walls for who knows how long at this point. You’d been doing your best to satisfy yourself, to not bother anyone while your mate was away. But enough was enough and when you finally found Phantom to give in, you just couldn’t stop.

Turning his head, Phantom’s mouth finds your own. His lips capture yours in a filthy meeting, shoving your head further down as his tongue forces its way into your mouth. Not that he really has to, you welcome him with open arms. You do, however, change the pace. Phantom lets you guide him after a moment, the fingers in his hair now petting gently at his scalp. Your kisses turn slow and messy, moans flowing sweetly into the other’s open mouth. His tongue slides against your own, his heat wafting over your features. Every now and then your lips will slide across each other’s, a silly giggle shared between the two of you then. He slows to firm thrusts now, too, grinding against your ass while he plays with the wet muscle in your mouth.

Your taste was something Phantom craved, your presence and warmth were traits he sought out on a daily basis. He loved to feel your soft body on his, loved to feel that slick stretch when he pushed himself in.

“Feels so good,” Comes his forceful whine, pretty purple eyes pinching shut. “Don’t ever leave.”

“Hm,” You giggle, eyes shut as you speak against his lips. “And what? Leave Dewy?” As if that were even possible considering your bond.

At that, Phantom’s eyes open slowly, staring down into your own. They scan your features once, a smirk playing on the very corner of his lips.

“We could always share.”

[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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