#he it ghost prns
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angels-graveyard · 8 months ago
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transmasc spectra !!!! self indulgent art
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smoeksigns · 1 year ago
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these ghouls
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vamprnce · 1 year ago
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it's been a hot minute since I drew my clown Jangle again, here's him dressed like Blacephalon since that pokemon really reminds me of them 🤡🩷🩵💛
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reidrum · 2 months ago
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how you talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things | s.r.
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A/N: this is literally prn with no plot i’m sorry. i just really love thinking about spencer on his knees sue me! this was supposed to be longer but then i decided to save it for when i write for juno heheh
cw: smut 18+ minors dni, softdom!spencer AND munch!spencer look at that a 2-for-1!, fingering fem receiving, brief condescending!spence if you blink, many many pet names, spencer says good girl that’s a warning on its own, afab!reader
summary: you and spencer come home from a night out and he knows exactly what to say to get you wrapped around his finger (literally!)
wc: 1.4k
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You stumble through the door with Spencer trailing not too far behind you. You’d both been out with the team getting drinks and as the night progressed Spencer found himself getting especially touchy with you, so much that you could still feel the imprint of his hand on your inner thigh.
The drinks of the night had long faded leaving you in a haze as you both entered your apartment, Spencer’s solid frame coming up behind you to hold your waist.
“Good thing I’m here to make sure you don’t fall.” He chuckles softly.
He slowly turns you around and gently pushes you against the wall. You give him a lazy smile as your hand reaches up to trace the outline of his jaw, “You’re pretty.”
“If I’m pretty, what does that make you?”
“Lucky.”
Spencer blushes and smiles softly, “That was good,” He bends down to press a kiss to the spot behind your ear, slowly trailing down to the sweet spot at the base of your neck. His fingers press into the sides of your hips, “You okay? Still feeling it?”
You shake your head no pointedly, “Just fuzzy.”
“Fuzzy is good,” He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, “You’re nicer when you’re fuzzy.”
“I’m nice all the time!” You feign offense.
He chuckles back, “Okay, you are nice all the time. I think I meant more…compliant.”
You grin up at him, “What, you don’t like me in control?”
“No I do, trust me, I do. But, you deserve to be taken care of. And I really like it when I get to take care of you. It’s easier for me to do that when you’re all…fuzzy.”
Another lazy smiles adorns you and Spencer can’t help but lean in and kiss your nose.
“Well, we aren’t doing anything until these devil shoes come off.” You mutter softly.
Spencer laughs and kisses you one last time before smoothing his hands down your side as he sinks to his knees, gesturing you to lift your foot up and perch it on his shoulder, allowing perfect access to your heel.
You lean back against the wall attempting to flatten your back to ease the aching of it. Through hooded eyes you look down to meet Spencer’s hazel ones staring right back at yours, as his fingers ghost over the straps of your heels.
“Feet hurt?” He asks as he presses the pads of his fingers into the flesh of your calf, gently massaging the skin as he works his way down the buckle of your heel.
“In these? Always.” You laugh back.
“Oh, poor baby.” He mumbles back with a pout, leaning forward to kiss the base of your ankle. Your eyes widen slightly in entice as you watch him leave kisses up your leg, hands following their path and caressing the skin it touches. He gently places your bare foot on the ground and picks up the other heeled one, placing it on his shoulder and repeating the same motions.
The intimacy of the moment strikes you as you watch his long fingers toy with the buckles and straps of your heels before sliding them off. Your hand subconsciously reaches for his hair and cards through it gently, pushing it away from his eyes.
“Hi.” you whisper.
He looks up to meet your gaze, “Hi, honey.”
“You look pretty down there.”
A chuckle escapes him, “Do I?”
You nod, “Are you going to stay down there or…?”
His fingers dance around your calves slowly inching upwards, “What do you want me to do?”
Humming softly at the touch, you lean your head back against the wall, “I want…whatever you want.”
Spencer laughs again, “See? My compliant, pretty girl.” His fingers reach the hem of your dress, slowly inching further up, “I think I’ll stay down here for a little bit…if that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, that’s o—okay.” Your breath hitches as he toys with the outer edges of your panties. His fingers trace the outline out to in, just missing contact with where you want him.
You whine softly as he continues to evade the one spot you need him, squirming against the wall for any friction you can find. He lightly chastises you, “So needy…you’re acting like you haven’t been touched in weeks.”
“Spence…”
He hums, “But that’s not true, right?” One finger strokes the front of your panties, tracing a path from the wet patch up to your clothed clit.
“N—No.” You half moan.
His finger lays more pressure, “I take really good care of you, right angel?”
A curse slips from you as he strokes you over your panties.
Spencer smirks as he hooks his index fingers on either side of your panties and slowly starts to drag it down, not missing how the fabric sticks to your slick like honey. “You know why, I take such good care of you?”
You’re too caught up in the anticipation to respond, but that’s not enough for Spencer when he stops his motions and taps your leg, “I asked you a question.”
You look down at him and shake your head exasperatedly, hoping the silent answer was enough for him to continue since you’re nearly on the ledge from the way his hands are moving.
His finger trails back up your leg and ghosts over your exposed cunt, teasing you endlessly, “I take care of you…because you’re a good girl. Isn’t that right?”
“Spencer…please…” You’re not sure how much longer you can take this, your body squirming for any contact.
“Say it.” He pulls back so he can look you directly in the eyes, a single digit sliding through your folds.
“Jesus, fuck,” you let out breathlessly, “Okay, okay I’m a good girl, I’m your good girl, just please…” You can’t even bring yourself to care at how desperate you sound, you would start begging like a sinner in church if he didn’t do anything soon.
He smirks, “That’s my girl,” he taps your thigh, “Over my shoulder.” You quickly abide and raise your leg over his shoulder and rest your thigh on it. Spencer leans in and dives into your folds like a man starved, your hands moving to tangle in his hair and in an effort to stabilize yourself. His tongue motions like he’s making a painting and you definitely think you deserve to be hung in the Louvre after this.
You feel him add a finger in and you’re a goner.
“Spence…I’m—fuck oh my god, please don’t stop.” You whine.
His lips detach from you while he adds another fingers and continues his motions and he mumbles, “You gonna come for me, angel? Been like, what a few minutes and you’re already about to make a mess on my fingers…so needy.” he teases.
He returns back to your core, licking long and thick stripes up and down, his fingers not slowing down as he brings you closer to the edge. The peak begins to build in your gut and the climax overtakes you, a mixture of expletives and Spencer’s name leaving your mouth like a twisted spell.
You release your death grip on his hair as he sits back to catch his breath. You slump down the wall to sit in front of him, your leg still swung over his shoulder. He smiles fondly at you and holds the ankle next to his head, leaning in to press a kiss, “You okay, baby?”
“Mhm…” You hazily say, “Peachy, even.”
His eyes narrow slightly, “…Because they’re fuzzy?” you giggle and nod feeling super proud of your pun. He can’t help but laugh with endearment with you as he gently helps your leg off his shoulder and places it on the ground before standing up himself and reaching his hands out for you to grab it, “Let’s go to bed, I’m not done with you yet.”
You place your hands in his and allow him to pull you up, once you’re on your feet you register his words, “Wait, huh?”
He slowly spins you around so his chest is to your back and starts guiding you down the hallway, “Oh baby, did you think we were stopping at one?” he whispers sultrily in your ear. A shudder runs down your spine and he laughs feeling you shake in his arms.
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rowarn · 5 months ago
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shadow entity!ghost cw: it/its prns for ghost, protective!ghost, implied vomiting from a hangover, sexual assault by third party, implied murder of said third party, unedited /: part: one
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it was strangely easy to fall into the life of living with an unknown shadowy entity in your house. it wasn't particularly talkative or friendly -- it was sort of like living with a really creepy, introverted roommate. except occasionally it made the atmosphere feel 5x heavier around you. and there was always the looming threat that it would kill you.
your life outside your home continued on -- college, work, and the difficulty of making friends now that you lived in a new city. a bar is where you happened to meet a guy -- phillip, you recall his name. he was older than you but seemed quite polite.
after a night of drinking, you return to your home, buzzed and happy. you stumble into the house, brows furrowed as you tossed your shoes off before collapsing in a heap onto your couch. the springs creaked under your weight and you groaned at how uncomfortable it was. but you weren't going to be able to make it to the bed, you knew that for sure.
just as you were drifting off to sleep, that familiar, heavy feeling filled the room.
"ghost..." you sighed, "i'm drunk."
"drunk?" its deep, echoing voice came in response, sounding almost confused.
you were too out of it to consider that too much, instead simply explaining, "i had too much to drink."
it hummed in response, offering nothing further. you finally relaxed letting you sleep overtake you.
only to wake up with a hangover. you jumped tot your feet the moment your eyes opened, throwing yourself over the toilet bowl. sweat beaded on the back of your neck as that oppressive feeling washed over you.
"are you still drunk?" it asked, making you groan.
"i fucking wish," you spit into the toilet, cringing at the awful taste that still lingered on your tongue before sitting back and leaning against the wall, "this is what i get for drinking, i guess."
"drinking?" it asks, curiosity lacing its tone.
you hummed, "you know, alcohol," it remained silent and you raised a brow, "what? you didn't drink alcohol when you were alive? jeez, what century were you from?"
"i am alive," it responds easily.
you grunted, "right, right. you're not actually a ghost, that's right. so what--"
your phone obnoxiously ringing stopped you short. you stood, steadying yourself using the wall before you stumbled out into the living room to find the device. it was sitting on the floor, clearly having fallen there sometime while you slept.
when you answered it, the familiar voice from last night spoke -- asking you out on a date. as much as you wanted to say no because of the raging headache currently pounding behind your eyes, the desire for actual human connection after being away from your friends for so long urged you to agree.
so you did.
the date went surprisingly well, he was a gentleman and polite with a bit of a sense of humor that had you grinning through the entire dinner. he even paid for both your meals and by the time the two of you were walking out, you were more than willing to invite him over to your place.
"ah, but," you cleared your throat as you stood on your doorstep, suddenly remembering the problem inside, "i have a uh...roommate. it- he is a little odd. i-if you hear any...weird sounds, just ignore it. he's kind of flighty and shouldn't bother us otherwise."
"that's alright, sweetheart," phillip assured, offering you a kind smile as he followed you inside.
when you stepped in, you were relieved that you didn't feel ghost's presence.
"do you want a drink?" you ask, wandering towards the kitchen.
"sure, darlin'," he mumbled, looking around your place.
"have a seat if you'd like," you smile, disappearing into the kitchen.
as you grab a glass, a familiar, dark form takes its humanoid shape in the corner. you jump, almost dropping the object before you glare at it.
"ghost," you hiss, keeping your voice low so your guest doesn't hear you, "don't scare me like that." it remained silent, simply standing there. you could feel eyes burning into you, making the hairs rise on the back of your neck, "look, he's just gonna be here for a little while, okay? then he'll leave. just...don't do anything, alright?"
it remained silent, it's shadowy figure wriggling and shifting with varying shades of darkness. you tried not to stare too long -- staring into that murky black always had you seeing weird, scary things from within that disappeared the second you blinked.
"ghost," you urged it to answer you.
it didn't offer any response before vanishing. you sigh in relief but still feel apprehensive that it was going to do something to scare your guest. phillip was the first real, human connection you had since moving here and you weren't about to let that little shadowy shithead ruin it.
you plastered a smile on your face before greeting him back in the living room. phillip grins and thanks you for the water, taking a few sips before placing the glass on your table.
after a few moments, sitting up and making sure that ghost wasn't going to make an appearance, you settled into the couch and turned on the tv -- the otherwise deafening quiet of the house really stifled the atmosphere.
the energy between you and phillip grew and grew until you found yourself kissing him right there on the couch. as you pulled away to take a breath, he dove back in immediately, pushing you onto your back. you frowned, hands moving to his shoulders to push him back a little bit. he didn't mind, moving his lips down to your neck and to your neckline.
"h-hey, slow down, phillip," you mutter, pushing a little more forcefully at his shoulders.
"can't," he breathes, sounding positively drunk on you, "i've wanted you since i first laid eyes on you."
you roll your eyes, frowning when his fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, "hey-! i told you to stop!"
as soon as the words fell from your lips, the lights flickered dangerously. phillip didn't seem to notice but you knew immediately. your guests hands continued to wander and you kept trying to push him off to no avail.
"s-seriously, stop it," you cried, growing more nervous as the seconds passed.
how could a simple need for human connection turn out so rotten?
"don't want to," phillip huffs, "i know you want me too, baby."
"no!" you shriek.
then, all at once, something terrifyingly heavy fills the room. you know that sensation all too well -- it was the night you first saw ghost's shadowy form.
phillip paused, no doubt feeling that same dark feeling looming over the both of you, making it hard to breathe. he looks confused, "what the-?"
the floorboards creaked, loud, booming footsteps coming from some unknown place in the living room. it sounded right next to you yet across the room at the same time.
darkness surrounded the both of you, blocking out the living room completely until all you could see was darkness. somehow, your eyes were able to adjust, seeing phillip's petrified face, a strange, purple filter seemingly coloring the both of you within the shadow.
"close your eyes," it's voice sounded completely different now. though it didn't address you, you knew it was talking to you so you quickly did as you were told and slammed your eyelids shut.
your breathing was labored and loud as was phillips. he sounded terrified.
"what the fuck?!" he cried, a petrified kind of voice you'd only ever heard in movies.
then, a scream. an animalistic, horrified scream you didn't know could come from a human being. you squeezed your eyes shut tighter before slapping your hands over your ears to drown it out. but it was impossible, it was too loud -- too horrific to block out.
the scream was cut off, complete silence following that made your ears ring. you couldn't resist opening your eyes to see what had happened.
but there was nothing.
just the inky blackness of ghost's shadow. no sign of phillip to be seen.
slowly, the darkness dissipated, taking shape in that familiar, humanoid form. your living room came back into view and your eyes adjusted painfully to the sudden light.
"ghost?" you pant, finding it difficult to catch your breath after that. you look around frantically, "what was that? what did you do? where did he go?"
ghost didn't respond, shadowy form flickering in and out and sight before vanishing completely. you frowned, heart racing in your chest so painfully that it made your head pound.
you looked around, for any sign of the man you had brought home. but there wasn't a single sign he had ever even been there. it was silent in your home aside from the tv playing in the background.
you sunk into the cushions of the couch, unsure of anything that had just happened. you were starting to doubt that phillip had even been there to begin with.
but on the floor was a black scorch marked circle. right where ghost had stood.
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yuan4i · 1 year ago
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ANGEL EYES lyney x reader
SYNOPSIS you’re at a bar, drinking your heart out after another having a feud with your boyfriend of 2 years. you later stop at your friend’s house to stay the night but… the one who opens the door isn’t her but instead, her brother…?
STATUS 08/20/23, on hold/ongoing, slow updates
GENRE social media au, modern au, college au 
CONTENT WARNING best friend’s brother troupe, drinking, alcohol, unhealthy relationships, angst, suggestive scenes, implied afab reader (they/them prns reader's considered as a "girl"), written during patch 4.0/beginning of fontaine's release, messy timestamps, will add more later! (❀) = written chapters
TAGLIST closed! please let me know if you changed your username
CHARACTERS shit talkers | adoption center
ACT I - "LOOK INTO HIS ANGEL EYES"
01. wtf did i walk in on?? ❀ 02. matcha frog cookies 03. homewrecker 😼 04. who's the special lady 05. salty lips ❀ 06. turn him gay 07. 6reeze introductions 08. teach me 09. you planned this? 10. practice ❀ 11. i'll think about it ❀ 12. fuck it we ball 13. we won 14. so pretty 15. holding hands already?! ❀ 16. sparks fly 17. enchanted
ACT II - "ONE LOOK AND YOU'RE HYPNOTISED"
18. ft. kaedekazukas 19. therapist mode on ❀ 20. what's with you two 21. he's ?? here ??? again ?? 22. i'm so fking done 23. no u dont 24. unconditionally 25. comfort crowd 26. yn x lyney shippers 27. tba...
ACT III - "HE'LL TAKE YOUR HEART"
tba...
ACT IV - "AND YOU MUST PAY THE PRICE"
tba...
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©yuan4i 2023/2024. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate any of my work without my consent.
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noircheols · 26 days ago
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🪓୨୧ — THE MONSTER AND ME . . . ♡
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synopsis. scenarios of seventeen and their monster!s/o
genre. fluff, established relationship, horror (ish) prns. they/them cw. NOT PROOF-READ, gore (duh), death, being murdered (decapitation, fire), the ring movie reference, I PERCHANCE HAVE APPROPRIATED WITCHCRAFT IM SO SORRY TO ANY WHO PRACTICE, pet names (sweetheart), toxic relationships, cheating, allusions to suicide, GROSS!!!! in a sappy way
an. happy (belated) halloween!! I COULDNT COMPLETE THIS SMH CUS I HAD MEETINGS FOR A WHOLE WEEK
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THE VAMPIRE. ⸺ seungcheol, mingyu, seokmin, seungkwan, chan
he thinks it's cute; your love of fashion. how every outfit you manage to coordinate is always so emblematic of your personality and the long life you have led.
"where's this one from?" he asks, gingerly twiddling the cool metal of the necklace dripping just below your chest. he could pretend all he wanted, but 400 years of living didn't fail you when it came to hearing the surge of blood pumping through his heart. and it certainly didn't help that he was slightly blushing. it makes you happy to know that even after three years of living together, you still had that impact on him.
"this one's from 1894!" you moved closer to him, wanting to feel his warm skin against your cold flesh. "long story short this random guy who stole from the nearby village came to my cabin to hide but i kinda-sorta-maybe decapitated him!!"
"that's nice sweetheart WAIT WHAT"
he also thinks it's cute how desperate you are for cuddles. he is more than aware that you love the sound of blood flowing and how much you love being pressed into him, because it meant you could hear it up close. he knows it has nothing to do with you viewing him as your next meal, but the reassurance that he was still alive. he was not gone yet, like all the others in your life. he knows you would never dare to go as far as graze your teeth against his skin. although... he wishes you would. what? he goes crazy for your teeth poking out every single time you smile. why else do you think he puts so much effort into being funny?
the most cute thing about you though? when you pout over pictures. what's the point of mirrors and phones if you can't see if you look good or not? if you can't record the most precious moments of your long life? how are you supposed to know if purple is your colour? but he simply laughs when he hears your complaints, kissing you deeply and telling you "you are everything i could ever have wished for."
THE GHOST. ⸺ jun, wonwoo, minghao, vernon
he knew something was wrong with his house the day he moved in. when the wires were still intact, the TV kept switching from his desired great british bake-off to the deluded brain-rotted show that was dance moms. what? can you blame a guy for wanting to see what they had in store for patisserie week? it only got worse from then on. he knew he had reached the boiling point when he had left for groceries, only for the magnets to be arranged ever so crudely.
TV
sorry, but he didn't have the budget to buy more magnets. in this economy too? whatever, maybe mindlessly scrolling through netflix would give him purpose. as he settled himself into his couch once more, he noticed another set of eyes. big, doe-like eyes, but haunting. his imagination, right?
another click, and he noticed an elbow tear through the screen, slightly distorting the actor's face. he wished he had the strength to get up from his seat, but something about you was pinning him there. you were like a predator staking out its prey, the way you focussed on him. but good lord you were hotter than anybody else alive. maybe everybody else unalive too. he knows now that he doesn't regret sitting there. legs began unravelling themselves as you slithered out the TV screen, crawling on all fours. you stood up as you unfurled your hand towards his chest, he braced himself, hands digging deep into the sofa. his eyes still remained trained on you. was it right to think you are attractive?
"chill out, i'm a ghost." you smoothly responded, trying to hide your smirk from the startled man sitting in front of you. "although... you don't seem too scared of me. what are you? are you also a ghost?" you mused, floating just enough to try and touch his hair. it looks so soft, you mused to yourself. when's the last time you played with somebody's hair again? he yelped a little, shutting his eyes for what was about to happen. to your disappointment, your hand went right through his head.
"so you're the one messing around with my TV- putting on all those trashy 2000s reality shows." he huffed, brushing himself off. weird. you put your hand threw his head but he doesn't feel anything.
"guilty as charged." you sighed, spinning around mid-air. you swirled around the man, fascinated by the newest tenant. "can you blame me for being nostalgic?" you explained how you had moved into this house with your then-boyfriend. things began to go sour and you never knew why. all you knew was that every single time he came home angry and slamming the door behind him, you knew it was time to turn on the TV and melt the world around you. soon enough you realized he was cheating on you, and when you confronted him about it, push came to shove. your last memories were the TV engulfed in flames, and you choking on smoke as the door quietly closed itself. "i used my ghost skills of manipulating electric currents for the first time by turning on the news and realizing that the police ruled my death as a suicide."
you have both developed a symbiotic relationship. he would let you watch your TV shows and re-introduce you to the joys of the mortal world, like reading books and making soup. he didn't banish you from your house, but looked after your every need (its shocking how many things ghosts need), and for the first time, loved.
as a ghost, you could touch whatever was important to you when you were alive. the TV, fruit tarts, and the magnets you would hang your to-do lists on. weirdly enough, you could touch your new roommate. "maybe i'm becoming super important to you." he teased. "would that make you feel weird?" you remarked, as you entwined your fingers among his. "no at all." he hummed, enjoying the way you traced the warm skin of his palm. peering up to look at him, you eagerly asked. "am i important to you, then?"
more than you could ever know.
THE WITCH. ⸺ jeonghan, joshua, soonyoung, jihoon
as a witch, the burning of incense and candles were familiar spells, intended to expel bad energy. but right now, you need more than to expel bad energy. you needed a guarantee from the universe that the life you lead now would be like this forever. being a witch was isolating, devoting time to a continuous cycle of researching and perfecting non-stop. like being a phd candidate, only minus the glory of being called "doctor." normally, witches have familiars, or "animal friends" as disney would like to call them that substitute the regular human's need for friends. but you didn't have one of those either. it was why it was such a blessing when he had entered your life by accident. all you remember is him asking for your number and the next thing you know you spent your days lounging in his studio apartment, with the coffee table scattered with copies of old esoteric spells from a bygone time.
as you heard the apartment entrance creak open, you knew your beloved was back. likewise, he knew you were doing well. the smell of cinnamon burning was comforting to him because it meant you were at your best condition and continuously experimenting with new spells. it was your way of saying "i've been thinking about you." that you spent hours concocting the best spells to guarantee your and his eternal happiness. it was an absured thought to him, for you to be slaving away when you already had what you wanted.
"i'm sure you don't need to worry, we're just fine without magic." he remarked, flopped onto the couch. he gazed into the kitchen, noticing you submerging a piece of paper in a bottle of water.
"have you ever thought that magic is what's keeping us together? and you're taking it for granted?"
"touche. but i still think-"
you could argue his spells were just as effective too, and that maybe he was a better witch than you could ever be. the way he brews your coffee just right in the morning, like an effective energy potion singing through you and keeping you awake. maybe that coffee also contains a love spell in it, because it makes you think about him non-stop. after all, the only reasonable explanation for the blooming feeling your chest had to be magic. "when will he come home?" "he's gonna be so excited when he figures out i made his favourite!" all those dumb, sappy, romantic thoughts plagued your mind. it's humiliating, but... maybe love is a force that not even the greatest of witches can control. wait- why did you catch him looking at your spells? did he take a peek at your notes?
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@noircheols DO NOT RE-POST/COPY/TRANSLATE
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aliorsboxostuff · 1 year ago
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ANOTHER SELF INDULGENT FIC? YES. I told yall i love fangs SO MUCH AAARGHH and MIGUEL?? HAVING FANGS?? HELLOOOOOO anyhow this is just full of me simping for that beautiful, insane man. Gotta love me a dilf with fangs and claws. Anyhow enjoy this piece yall lmao. I PROMISE ILL GET TO YOUR REQUESTS
Canines
Tags: Miguel O’hara xM!Reader, Miguel O’hara x gn!reader, Spidey!Reader, Lyla, Jessica Drew, Ben Riley, Spider Society, No Smut, Almost ig?, Fluff, He/Him prns for Reader, Reader is a sunshine, Soft!Miguel, Established relationship, This is just me simping for Miguel tbh, gotta love this man, slight sub!Miguel, Kissing, making out, HIS FANG BRO
Even after spending time with Miguel, successfully becoming his boyfriend and getting on his good side, there's the one thing you can get your mind off of; those damn fangs.
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You and Miguel have been dating for a solid 5 months now. You still remember the day you got introduced to the spider society and met him. Those dark eyes that flash red, tall and broody, sharp talons that scrape against metal, swept back hair that might as well have swept you off your feet. No literally. The first day you went to meet him you tripped on air and fell straight into his arms. 
How did that manage to win his heart? Now that's the real anomaly. 
One thing you can't get over and can't seem to wrap your head around is his fangs. You’ve been told by him it's used to paralyze enemies when needed, and most of the time he forgets it’s there. But in your mind, you keep replaying the times when he talked, or his rare smiles and laughs reserved for only you. How does he eat with it? Did he ever bite himself when he goes on his rants? How does he not have a lisp with how big they are?
When the sharp fangs glints and it sends shivers down your body. Curiosity and arousal clouds you whenever Miguel talks, and it’s honestly distracting at team meetings.
“Hey, you there?” He snaps his fingers in front of you as you blink away the thoughts, realizing a couple of other Spideys in the briefing looking at you with squinted eyes. 
“Oh yeah- Sorry, pre-mission anxiety and all,” You tried to laugh it off, averting from Miguel's worried gaze. He knows you're capable, he knows you're strong, that's the reason why you're always with him on missions, why you're trusted with a team. But those flashing red eyes couldn't help but hesitate each time you leave the base. 
Miguel continues the brief, assigning teams to universes and anomalies. He sends you off with your teams while he leads his. Each team consists of two spideys, if the anomaly is a particularly notorious villain in their respective universes, Miguel would send three. You’re standing next to Jessica, her bike parked just meters from the portal. While the others had already jumped, Miguel stayed behind while Ben jumped first into the portal. The hum of Jessica’s bike startles you and breaks your eyes from staring at Miguel, and she seems to notice.
“Go ahead, go talk to him,” She nods, a small smile on her lips before she rides off into the portal. You sigh, with your boyfriend staying behind, he seems to have the same idea. 
You walk across the metal floor, Miguel standing just near his portal. “So, an easy one today, huh?” 
“Yeah, me and Ben can take care of him, it’s just another Doc Oct,” He checks something on his watch, the orange hologram lighting up. You can't help but notice it gleams against his fangs. 
“Alright, uhm-” You cough, alerting Miguel as he turns to you. “Be safe out there, babe,” 
The way you said those last words, too small for your usual cheerfulness, makes Miguel’s brows furrow. He reaches for your hand, softly holding them. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine! Don't worry baby,” You smirk, patting his arm where he’s still holding your hand. “Stay safe, and come back home, okay?” 
Miguel tilts his head slightly, before his lips quirks, a ghost of a smile. “You too, my love,” 
And with that, Miguel turns and enters his portal, the circle closes as he disappears. You sigh, both relieved and frustrated somehow. You shook your head, trying to dissipate those thoughts, at least for the time being. Glancing at your portal, you take another breath, before running and leaping into it, another day of saving the multiverse.
“Okay, what's going on?” You turn to Jessica leaning on her bike, arms crossed and one brow raised. It’s the ‘Spill It’ face you’ve come to love, but also loathe when she uses it on you.
“What’s ‘what’ going on?” Jessica scoffs, tilting her head when your back is still facing her while you twip a web at the Lizard's jaw, the anomaly tied and secured, ready for transport. “Nothings going on,”
She sees you shrug as you turn around, her only response is to nod again, gauging an answer. Her eyes stare deep into you, making you gulp as you aver her sharp, questioning glare. A beat passes, your suit suddenly feels clammier than usual. You tug slightly at the part that hugs your neck, looking down at the street. 
“Okay fine!” You huff, a satisfied smirk from Jessica. “I’ve been thinking about Miguel-”
“That's not new sweetie,” She snickers, making you stumble on your words. 
“I’m- I know but it's not about him… I guess?”
“Go on…”
“Have you-” You huff, crossing your arms. “You’ve seen his fangs, right? Those sharp things,” You point to your own little fangs, which makes Jesicca hum.
“Hard not to,” She shrugs.
“You ever wonder how sharp they are?” You tilt your head, fully turning to Jessica. “Y’know it's pretty big, and pretty sharp, I wonder how he doesn't bite himself with it? Or how he doesn't have a lisp, or maybe he can retract them but then when he talks it’s always out so I don't know if he can do that, we’ve kissed a couple of times but I didn't feel those things-”
“Okay whoa there,” She chuckles, walking towards you. “I get it, cool fangs, you’re curious about them,” 
She places her hands on your shoulders, a grin on her lips. “That's what got you all distracted today?”
“Yeah… Sorry,” 
“Oh don't be kid, I get it,” She nods, before giggling. “Not ‘get it’ get it, but you're in love, and love makes curiosity and wonder, and I get that,” She pats your arms.
“Bring that up with Miguel, would’ya?” She grinned, a mischievous glint behind her goggles. You blink, realizing she has started walking back to her bike. You chuckle, a steady blush spreading on your cheeks.
“Y-yeah, I will,” You smile, shooting out webs to bring the anomaly back while Jasicca rides into the portal first.
Once the anomalies are stored in their cells and boxes, Miguel debriefs the others while you were making sure each anomaly is accounted for.
“I think that's all, right Lyla?” You nod to her small figure sitting on your shoulder. She looks at one of her holograms before nodding.
“Yep! All here,” Her holograms disappear as she glitches and changes to your right shoulder. She suddenly leans in, a dangerous smirk on her face. “So that's what’s up huh?”
You groan, flinching your shoulder which makes her hologram change to stand in front of you. “Lyla you know I hate it when you listen in,” 
“Hey I always listen in, y’know I’m online at all times,” She snickers. “Don't worry, your secret is safe with me,” 
You huff, which makes her laugh as you roll your eyes. You glance at Miguel, still talking with the other spideys, those distracting fangs just barely visible between his soft lips. 
“Sooo…” Lyla floats in front of you, again. “You plannin’ on saying anything?” 
She can practically hear the gears in your head turning, before you sigh and remove your mask, adjusting your ruffled hair. “I suggest you stay offline tonight,”
Lyla spots the blooming red that spreads across your face, at which she giggles mischievously. “Okay, whatever you say,” She shrugs before glitching to your right. “I'll just hang out with Margo then,” 
“Yeah, thanks Lyla,” A grateful smile on your lips. Lyla nods before she disappears and leaves you alone. 
Miguel has finally wrapped off the debrief and sent the others to do what they please since today's mission is over. The other spideys wave their farewell to you as they pass, you reply while you walk closer to your boyfriend. Jesica passes you, a sly smirk on her lips, before she pats your shoulder. You give her a small smile before nodding, and she’s on her way.
Miguel’s back is turned, busy with his monitor, wrapping up the day. His head tilts a bit, as he notices you're walking toward him. You pull one of the stray chairs to Miguel's platform and as if instincts, he sat down just as you pushed it behind him. His eyes are still scanning the monitors but he turns slightly towards you as you lean on the consoles. 
“Good job out there Miguel,” You smile, glancing at the screens.
“You too, as always,” His lips quirks, one arm rests on the chair while the other swipes at the screen. “Though I have seen some things we can improve on the teams. I haven't debriefed you yet like the others, so listen to me okay?” 
You nodded, crossing your arms into a more relaxed tone. “Good, so according to team three we need to-” 
And that's the last thing you hear before you turn to look at Miguel, catching that sharp glint of those fangs. Around you, Miguel usually lets his guard down, his way of letting you know he trusts you. So he talks more, his hands punctuate what needs to be punctuated, and those lips move wider. In other circumstances, listening to him would be easy, but with each word he spoke, a peak of those sharp fangs caught your attention instead. Miguel continues to point out the images on the screens, occasionally asking you a question to which you responded with a ‘Uhuh’ or ‘Yeah’. That seemed to satisfy Miguel until—
“-And that's to add the upgrades on your suit, what do you think?” 
“Uhuh,” 
“What?” Miguel retracts, tearing his eye away from the screens. “I asked about your suit?”
A beat passes, before you blink, realizing your boyfriend was staring, and shaking yourself out of the daze. “Huh? What did you ask?”
Miguel sighs, crossing his arms. Sadly those muscles adds another point to the distraction. “Were you even listening to me?” 
He stiffens, watches as you stand in front of him, one arm on the chair's headrest, completely trapping him in. Slowly, your other hand moves up, and settles on his jaw. Throughout the months of dating you, Miguel has never seen this side of you, never seen how bold you could be. Steady hands cup his jaw, your thumb gliding across his lips, before you press slightly. As if a switch is flipped, Miguel inhales sharply and parts his lips, inclining his head when you hold his chin. Your thumb moves over his lower set of fangs, before suddenly followed by your other hand, pushing his mouth open to expose his upper, sharper fangs. His eyes flashes and brows furrows slightly, surprised at the sight of your rapt expression, eyes scanning him.
There's a hint of fondness behind those usually irritated gazes as he looks at you before he sighs and opens his mouth to continue his question before you were overcome with the sudden urge to see. You lean off of the console and approach your boyfriend. “Sorry, Miguel I just have to-”
“Fascinating…” You lean closer, taking pride in the way Miguels is stunned, practically crushing the armrest under his claws. Your index pushes at his upper jaw, letting you get an eyeful of that part of Miguel you’ve been dreaming about. It reflects the blue lights in the room, your eyes widen at it. Your thumb touches its start before gliding down to the pointed end, Miguel pants lightly. How would they feel against my skin?
Your eyes roam up to the prominent blush on Miguel's cheeks, the red in his irises shakes. Slowly, you bring him closer, one hand stays on his chin while the other moves behind his head. His eyes flutter as you press your lips against his, his gasp allows you to slide your tongue inside. Carefully, you trace that sharp fang, making Miguel grunt, his hand suddenly gripped your wrist, pulling apart.
“Don't- It’s dangerous,” He says between pants, the blush coloring his beautiful complexion. 
“Paralysis, right?” You smirk, fingers playing at his curled strands. Miguel shivers then swallows hard. “How about we unwind from today,”
A glint in your eyes, watching as Miguel becomes putty between your hands, his blown-out pupils staring at you in reverence. You smirk, breath ghosting against his lips when you bring him closer again.
“Show me what those fangs do, baby,” 
Reblogs appreciated! Requests are opened! <3
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taintedcigs · 1 year ago
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ YOURS, MINE, OURS. ghostface!dom!steddie x fem reader
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— summary : you ask your boyfriends to surprise you in ghostface masks.
— word count : 4.6k
— warnings : 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!!, smut, prn without plot, p in v, bj!!, or*l (m and f receiving), fingering, hj, unprotected sex, mmf/mfm threesome (mostly mfm for this one but they do stuff too), dom/sub dynamics, mean!dom!eddie, mean!dom!steve, sub!reader, very tiny knife play, spitting?, degrading, petnames (baby, slvt, whore, princess, etc.)
a/n : not proof-read >:( whoever came up w soft dom!eddie and mean dom!steve combo i owe u my life! also kinda wanna make dom!steddie a series with various one-shots but? what do yall think?
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You had talked about this many times before.
Expressed how badly you wanted the two of them to fuck you in that Ghostface mask.
So when they finally agreed with the plan and came in through your window, pining you against your bed, you couldn't help the lustful gasps that left your plump lips, which were already muffled by your own laced panties that they stuffed into your mouth.
"She's already moanin' for us," Eddie purred, tilting his head, his eyes dripping with lust behind the mask as he traced the contours of your face. "Such a desperate slut," Steve mocked further with a deep chuckle.
Your tiny skirt was flipped upward on your stomach, and both of their hands were roaming your body. The sight of your pantieless, glistening cunt was enough to have both of the boys' blood rush to their cock, painfully prodding through their jeans.
Both of them were quick to take off their masks, tossing them aside with their knives while they toyed with you. Eddie held you by your wrists, and Steve's lips were sloppily latched to your neck, nibbling and licking every spot he could find, rough enough to mark your body in every place possible. "Touch her," he murmured toward Eddie, who nodded frantically.
Steve ordered both of you around with ease, his cock growing harder at the fact that the two of you were so quick to obey his orders, that submissive look was embedded in both of your eyes.
Eddie's calloused hands were rough as they landed on your thigh, you yelped quickly, "P-please," you whined, voice still muffled.
"I can't hear you, sweetheart, what did ya say?" Eddie mocked with a sly chuckle. "Poor little baby just wants to be stuffed with our cock," Steve whispered against your neck, you whined an incoherent babble to them, and Steve huffed before he yanked away the panties from your lips so you could speak.
“Yes!” You whined out of breath. “More!” You pouted at him all brattily, earning a harsh slap on your ass.
"Behave." Steve warned with dark eyes, Eddie's one hand still had a tight grip on your wrist while his other hand was quick to snake between your thighs, fingers teasing at your clit.
His hands let go of your wrists and his face slid down to your thighs, lip ghosting over your leg as he looked up at you with a sly smirk. Your body was burning with desire, you wanted to grip his head and push him further into your aching cunt, and just as you were about to reach for him, Steve had a harsh hold on you with a tut. "Nuh-uh," he mocked with a tilt of his head.
"You're gonna lay there and take what we fuckin' give you," he spat, his hands quick to retrieve the knife next to him, cutting your bra in one swift motion, both of the boys groaning at the sight of your breasts. You opened your mouth to tell him off, but he quickly interrupted you with the light graze of the knife on your skin.
The cold exhilarating touch of it had you arching your back, nipples quick to harden as both of them watched you smugly.
"So fuckin' desperate," Steve mocked, his gaze overblown with lust now, loving the way you submitted so easily and how much of a slut you were for them.
Your thighs closed around Eddie's head, desperate for him to give you something, anything. “Please,” you panted. Eddie looked at Steve for confirmation, who nodded with a sly smirk.
He was quick to slide a finger into your slick walls, curving his digits and pressing his lips against your cunt to suck on your clit, earning small cries with each of his movements. "You like that, honey?" You nodded frantically.
Steve cherished your whines and the shift of your hips to gain some more friction. He placed the knife aside before his mouth latched onto your nipples, both of them overstimulating you in every possible way, deliciously.
Steve dropped the firm hold on your wrists; instead, focusing on the bulge prodding against his tight pants, he stroked himself with a low whine that was dulled by your breasts that were attached to his lips. 
You wanted to take advantage of your free hands, take Eddie by his curls, and push his head further down, but you were too distracted by the two of them—the way their mouths moved and the way their hands roamed on your body. And, besides, you knew if you tried anything, both of them would have you crying out, mewling, to even have them fuck you.
You were beyond frustrated. The moment they came through your window with those masks and the moment they took them off, revealing their devilish smirks, your pussy ached at the sight.
"Look at our slut, Stevie, so fucked out with just our tongues, hmm?" Eddie said through gritted teeth, lapping up your juices in delight. You moaned in response, your heels digging further into the bed. You sounded like a woman possessed.
Steve let go of your nipples with a slight pop sound. "S'fuckin' loud for us today, aren't you, sweets?" He tutted with a tilt of his head. 
"Look at those pretty little glossy lips, Eds," he hummed, hand squishing your cheeks as his eyes devoured you whole.
Eddie looked up in awe, oggling your breasts with a shift of his hips. He needed some kind of friction. You looked perfect from this angle; your mouth stood agape with Steve's force on your cheeks, and tits glistening with his spit. He wanted nothing more than to watch them bounce up and down while he stuffed you full of his cock.
He continued his soft strokes on your clit, making you arch your back onto his mouth. "Think you need to have that mouth stuffed with something bigger than her panties, Stevie." Eddie suggested with a mocking grin.
"God, you're so fuckin' perfect, baby," He praised Eddie with a frustrated huff. "C'mere," he muttered. Eddie was quick to oblige, leaving you all whiney and frustrated as he reached for Steve.
"N-no!" You squealed out, "n-need more, need both of you." You huffed with a pout, looking at both of them with an innocent look.
The cold glare they gave you was enough to have your lips pressed tightly into a straight line, you knew if you went further with your brattiness, you'd be in for a long punishment, but you didn't want that, at least not today, not when your insides were pulsating with the need to be stuffed full of their cocks and their warm cum.
"Behave." Steve warned with a harsh grip on your face, making you look at his darkened gaze. "Eddie was such a good boy today," he praised again, turning his gaze toward Eddie's sickly sweet brown eyes.
"And you were nothing but a brat," he spat without even looking at you, making you pout further.
"'m sorry," you huffed. They paid no attention to you when Steve grabbed Eddie's chin harshly. Kissing him so roughly that his lips mashed against his teeth, making him yelp for more.
He swirled his tongue in Eddie's mouth, one hand discarding his curls messily, while the other was quick to free himself of his painful pants and even more painful boxers.
Revealing his hardened cock as it plopped against his stomach, making him hiss against the dizzying kiss. Pre-cum beaded from his deliciously pink slit, making your mouth water and your thighs dampen further and further the more you watched them.
You loved both of them dominating you, but seeing Steve so easily overpower both you and Eddie had your stomach in a twist. The sudden flip of a switch in Eddie between you and Steve was glorious, and it had you whining like a brat.
Steve stroked himself as he deepened the kiss, his deep brown eyes half shut with desire as he whined into Eddie's mouth, your core immediately vibrating with the ache for both of them.
He smeared the pre-cum sitting on his angry tip onto his length, fucking his hand roughly with a determined gaze on you.
Heat rushed to your cheeks and straight to your aching cunt as you watched your two boys with desire.
Eddie's gaze widened once he fully comprehended where the lewd noises were coming from. Steve jerked his thick cock, a stilled smirk plastered on his parted lips. Eddie didn't hesitate to help Steve out, his hand flying to take over as he stroked up his shaft, slow and steady.
Steve grunted into his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. You watched with your teeth dug into your lips, the more Eddie tugged at Steve's thick cock, the more Steve panted and bucked his hips further into Eddie's calloused hands, spurring you on and on.
Steve broke the kiss with a satisfied huff when he heard your strained groans, biting Eddie's bottom lip before he turned to you, "enjoying the show?" He mocked, licking his lips while he kept his stern gaze on you, and Eddie palmed Steve’s dick with the need to have his cum spurting all over the both of you.
You nodded with a slight huff, pupils blown with lust. "If you had been a good girl, you'd be the one stroking my cock," Steve hissed.
"Or better yet, I'd have you bouncin' on it." You whined loudly at that. Wanting nothing more than to have both of your boys filling your holes, any and all of them.
"P-please," you begged. "I'll be good, s-so good, I promise." You feigned an innocent look, a pout adorning your lips.
Your begging earned their attention as Eddie's movement on Steve slowed down, stopping completely when you continued. "Promise, I'll be so good, the bestest," you hummed, earning a warm smile from Eddie, who was too quick to soften up the moment you gave them those eyes.
Steve sighed a deep breath. "What'd ya think, baby?" He turned to Eddie, who was almost already drooling, his cock swelling more at the sight of your wet cunt, begging to be plunged into.
"Stevie," he whined. "Need to be inside of our lil' slut."
"Need to stuff all of her holes and show her who owns them." Eddie's tone was gentle toward Steve, his gaze on you was anything but. Deep brown eyes looking like they were ready to swallow you whole.
"Please, baby, I want to teach her what happens to bratty little sluts like her, hmmm?" Eddie almost growled, making blood rush straight through Steve's cock, twitching with need.
"So fuckin' perfect," Steve groaned when he pulled Eddie for another kiss, harsh and sloppy.
"Don't give into her too fast, baby. I know she's cute with her pouts and all, but we need to punish her, yeah?" Steve demanded, watching Eddie nod quickly once he got back to his first position, eyes hungrily watching you.
"Don't worry, Stevie, I'm gonna remind our baby who owns her," he said with a low growl, reaching down to grab your hips with both of his hands. Your breathing grew shallower the rougher he was with you.
"And make her never fuckin' forget that she's ours to use. Our personal little cock sleeve," his voice was more teasing now; that damned smirk played on the curve of his lips as his fingers slipped between your legs, quick to re-find their place, your gushing cunt giving him easy access.
You wanted to agree with him, and be good for both of them, but all that escaped your parted lips were strained moans, and your hips were quick to buck into his fingers, wanting him deeper and deeper.
"Oh look how she's squirmin' under my touch Stevie," Eddie hummed, and Steve watched in awe. Both of you were driving him fucking crazy.
"You love that, don't you, baby? You love being used by us. Love being filled and stuffed in all of your holes, hmmm?" He frowned mockingly.
"The perfect fuckin' cum dump," he hummed, the stroke of his fingers alternating between slow and fast, making your head dizzy as the lewd sounds of Eddie fingering you filled the room.
"P-please," you whispered, eyes squeezed shut. "M-more," you cried out, eyes quick to become glossy.
"So fuckin' mouthy today," Eddie tutted with a disapproving sound, head turning to Steve. "You wanna take care of that, baby?" He asked all sweetly; his fingers were sliding quickly between your slick folds, sending a shot of desire straight to Steve's cock.
Normally, he would've told Eddie to watch it for trying to act like he was in charge, but he loved Eddie ordering you around like this, and he loved to see you squirm underneath him.
Steve tutted with his brows pinched together. "Thought you wanted to be our good girl, honey," he hummed, fingers slowly stroking your cheek. You looked up at him all doe-eyed. "I-I am! I promise!" You weakly protested between your whines; Eddie's fingers were so agonizingly slow that you were trying to rock into his movement.
He heaved a sigh of breath. "Look at you, doll. Your gloss is all messed up," he said in a low tone, gripping your chin harshly to force you to look up at him.
His fingers were quick to graze against your lips. "Let me fix it," he hummed. With half-lidded eyes and whines escaping your lips, you nodded obediently.
His other hand grabbed his hardened cock, giving it a few tugs before he slapped it across your cheek, earning a shocked gasp from you. Your eyes widened with excitement as you watched him.
His fingertips found their way to his pink slit, and a hissed sound escaped as he swiped his thumb over his angry tip, spreading some of the pre-cum before he dragged it on your mouth, smearing it all over your lips.
A sly grin overtook his features as he dragged his cock all over your lips, making sure each part of your lips was drenched in his semen.
Before he could tell you to taste him, your tongue darted out of your mouth, a loud moan escaping your lips as you eagerly lapped up all of his juices, looking up at him with a heavenly gaze and a sugary smile.
Steve looked back at you dumbfounded. Surges of pleasure coursed through his veins like electricity, and his balls felt so much heavier when you slightly parted your lips to take his index fingers in your mouth. You sucked at it greedily, faux innocent eyes never leaving his.
Eddie's movements came to a halt as he watched the two of you, both of their cock hardened to the point of pain, ready to release just from the filthy sounds you made as you sucked on Steve's fingers.
Steve slowly retracted his digit from your mouth. "Open," he muttered, voice low. You parted your lips happily, watching the way he fucked his hand. You wanted nothing more than to have him filling your mouth and to feel his warm cum shooting down your throat. Just the thought of it had you closing your thighs together unashamedly.
"Let me see that tongue," he purred, grabbing your chin. You stuck your tongue out without any complaint, giving him the same gaze that had both of them groan in unison.
"Such a good girl for us, aren't you?" He hummed, making you nod frantically before he spat into your mouth, you almost gasped at the invasion of his fluids in your mouth, but it warmed your tongue quickly. "Swallow." He demanded, and you happily swallowed, watching the way his deep brown eyes squinted in satisfaction.
"You're so fuckin' perfect," he grunted. "That filthy fucking mouth, and those perfect tits," he hummed in excitement, fisting his cock roughly, "and just the sight of that tight cunt, oh, god, baby." He let out a strained groan.
"Tastes even better, Stevie," Eddie said with a smirk, diving back into your thighs, pressing the flat of his tongue against your throbbing clit, soaking in the way you squirmed under his mouth.
"I don't think I can fuckin' wait," his voice drowned out between your thighs, "need to be inside'a her." He slurred.
"I think you've earned this, princess," he whispered. "Right, baby?" He hummed contently, attention diverting to Eddie.
Eddie's head was quick to pop up, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. "Fuck yes," he groaned eagerly, not even wasting a second to undo his zipper and toss his clothes aside.
You looked up at him excitedly. "Masks?" Steve's eyebrows rose at that. "You want us to wear our masks while we fuck your holes, honey?" He shuddered, his mind going numb with how perfect you were.
You nodded happily. "Since you've been such a good girl," he hummed, slipping on his mask before he tossed Eddie his.
You could feel Eddie's thick, veiny shaft pressing against your legs, smearing his beads of pre-cum all over your inner thighs.
They were both so addicting—the way they moved in unison and how they had your breath hitching just with their masks on.
You don't know what it was that you loved about those masks, but you loved how they immediately made both your boys more confident and dominant. Especially Eddie, who was eyeing you with such hunger that it had your core throbbing, the head of his dick prodding your entrance.
Steve had your attention back when he slapped his dick against your lips, parting them open before he gave it a few tugs. He kneeled on the bed, towering above you.
He slid his angry tip into your awaiting mouth, not worried about hurting you once he pushed himself harshly with a low grunt coming out of his lips. Your mouth was quick to wrap around it, licking and sucking every inch of him you possibly could fit. “See, you look so much prettier like this, baby, droolin’ all over my cock and knowing your place,” he groaned, eyes carefully watching you behind the mask. 
And you loved every second of it—his husky voice with that goddamn mask as he shoved your face further onto his cock, your nose hitting his pubes as you drooled around him. And Eddie could tell how much sucking Steve’s cock turned you on, feeling the way your thighs dampened more and more. 
“Stevie she’s fuckin’ soaked from sucking your dick,” Eddie mocked with a chuckle as he teasingly slid his shaft against your slick walls. You whimpered for more, but he just looked at you with that goddamn smirk.
They enjoyed this, teasing you until you got all whiney and teary, so cock drunk to the point where all you could let out were incoherent babbles for them to make you cum.
"Isn't this what you were fuckin' begging for, baby, huh?" Eddie pouted mockingly.
"To be fucked dumb by both of your daddies, hmm?" He asked, dragging his cock up and lining it with your entrance. You were quick to nod frantically, mouth muffled by Steve’s thick cock shoved into it. 
You could barely comprehend what was happening when he started to sheath himself inside of your velvety walls, making your pussy accommodate his size quickly. It burned, just a little bit, but your cunt clamped down around him quickly, and a groan lodged in his throat, his face scrunching when he pushed himself further. 
“You look so good like this,” he panted. “All fucked out on our cocks, just begging for more, like a bitch in heat.” Eddie groaned, 
Steve’s hands quickly wrapped around your hair, yanking you hard as he pumped further into your mouth. “Can’t even move her damn mouth,” he spat. “Have to do all the fuckin’ work,” he groaned. You could barely catch your breath the more vicious his thrusts got. 
But you were used to it, welcoming his thick cock as you took what he gave you, trying to hollow your cheeks to please him further. Tears prickled at your eyes, and your face heated from being so breathless. 
“Look how well she’s takin’ both of us… and this tight fuckin’ cunt… molded just for us,” he moaned, watching the way his cock split you apart. His grip on your hips hardened, enough to leave a blotchy bruise, marking you. 
He eyed you with a proud smirk, plunging into you harder while Steve fucked your face with ease. Your whines and groans were uncontrollable, as were Steve and Eddie’s. The room was filled with a mixture of the lewd sounds of your grunts and the harsh slapping of flesh. 
Eddie was feral, plunging his cock further into your velvety walls, not stopping until he was sure you were fully stuffed, and the deeper he went, the deeper you took Steve into your mouth. All three of you were in sync; the rocking motion had everyone in a hazy state, not knowing when any of you were about to fucking lose it. 
“Such a warm fuckin’ mouth, Eddie… and she’s droolin’ all over my cock,” Steve grunted, his grip on your hair tightened, slamming your head with force as he enjoyed the way you gagged around him, his cock hitting the back of your throat.
“She’s drenchin’ my cock too, so good for us,” Eddie chuckled. You rocked your hips back onto him, making Eddie almost lose it. “Fuck- fucking messy little slut.” He growled in a husky voice, pumping his cock in and out of you in a delicious pace.
“God, you both look so hot…” Steve groaned. “Shit, shit, shit… Love watching your cock drive into her, gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, both of you.” 
You could barely focus, delighted sobs muffled by Steve’s stuttering hips driving further into you. “Needy fuckin’ whore,” he shuddered when you choked around him. “Don’t know how much longer I can hold off." You looked up at him all doe-eyed, ready to take all of his cum and swallow it whole.
He almost lost it at that look—so primal and needy, but so fucking innocent. “Mhmm, gonna shoot my load down that pretty little throat.” You whimpered, making Steve’s head fall back in pleasure. 
“Fuuuck, want that princess? Want me to fill your slutty mouth?” You nodded as best as you could, pouting. 
“Shit, pretty girl, I’ll give you all of my cum.” He stroked your cheek, wiping away the tears that left your glossy eyes. 
“You close, baby?” Steve asked, directed toward Eddie, who was lost in your pussy, reveling in your moans. “F-fuck yes,” he panted.
“Can tell she’s fuckin’ close, too… Tight fuckin’ cunt squeezing me, wants to milk me dry, yeah?” He asked with a mocking chuckle. 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, pretty girl, shit I’m gonna-” Steve was losing it, grumbling as he furiously fucked your mouth. “N-need your cum, Stevie,” you let out a gurgled sound, Steve’s cock immediately twitching, balls drawing up with the need to release.  
“I’m gonna- oh, fu-fuuck,” he let out a load groan, bucking his hips with a force that had your mind fuzzy, enjoying the feeling of being filled everywhere. Steve was hitting the back of your throat, and you could almost feel Eddie in your tummy. 
His cock throbbed in your throat. “Take it, b-baby, fuuuck, mmpf! Y-yeah… take it all,” he grunted, with ropes of hot cum spurting down your throat with one final thrust, tainting your throat. 
He watched you swallow it all with a filthy smile on your lips. Eddie was stunned watching the two of you, his vision blurring as he was chasing his release now. 
You’re too fucked out, but now with your mouth free, you want to tease Eddie and get him to his breaking point because you know you are close—so close that it aches. And you know he will only let you cum once he does. 
Your attention diverts back to him, with an innocent look, “Mhmm, Eds?” you whined, voice still coarse after getting your throat abused by Steve. 
He looked back at you, pupils blown wide. “What do you need, pretty girl?” He hummed, 
“W-wanna see you,” you hummed with a sweet pout, and he was quick to oblige, taking off the mask swiftly. 
You grind your hips onto his cock, tiny whimpers leaking out of your plump lips, wanting more. 
More, more, more.
“I-I…” you barely let out between your whines, and he stared at you in a hypnotic gaze, each part of him completely allured by you now. 
Your fingers grazed against your tummy. “I-I can feel you here, sir,” you stuttered with that look again. Leaving Eddie stunned as his mind reveled, calling him 'sir' with the most pornographic gaze ever, you truly had him wrapped around your finger. 
He shuddered in a deep breath. “Jesus fu-fucking,” he growled. His pace picked up, head thrown back as he plunged into you. “Fuuuuck, angel, keep sayin’ shit like that, and you’ll make me cum.” Steve watched curiously, blood quick to rush to his cock again when both of his sluts were so fucking filthy. 
“Wanna make you cum, sir,” you sobbed beneath him. You were close, so fucking close. Body shuddering with how badly you needed a release. “P-please need m-more.” Tiny whines left your parted lips; he could feel your cunt gushing on his cock, desperately sucking him in. 
“Shit, pretty girl. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? To be fucked dumb like this? To be our little fucktoy?” He was losing it, beads of sweat prickled on his forehead.
“Mhmmm, love being owned by the two of you,” you hummed, head tilting toward Steve with a vulgar look before turning your attention back to your own release. “Please, Eds, n-need to…”  
“You wanna cum, baby?” You nodded frantically. “Wanna cum, while I claim you? While I stuff you full of my cum, have it leakin’ down those pretty thighs?” He hissed. 
“P-please!” you cried out, “want you to come inside’a me.” You cried out, your pussy convulsing more and more around him. 
“C’mon sweet girl,” he hummed. He pistoned into you, watching his cock split you open once more. “Cum for me,” he hissed. 
That was all the confirmation you needed as you chased your release, primal groans filling the air as your walls fluttered around him, orgasm washing you away as you were sure you saw stars for a moment.
“F-fuuuckk, g-gonna fill you so fuckin’ deep,” he growled against your ear, fully losing it with one vicious thrust, feeling the way your cunt was squeezing him as thick ropes of his warm cum spurted inside of you, painting your walls white.
Both of your visions blurred with how hard you came, and Eddie could feel his cum leaking out of your stuffed pussy, he groaned at the feeling. 
Once his cock softened and slipped out of you, he crashed next to you, planting a quick kiss on your bare shoulder. 
Steve was quick to jump back into the bed, making his way down to your thighs, and your head cocked in curiosity, watching the way he spread your legs. 
His cock twitched at your fucked out expression. Your hair was messily discarded, your mouth still stained with Steve’s cum, and your tear-strained cheeks made him hard again.  
His head drooped down to your glistening pussy, stuffed full of Eddie’s load that was leaking down your thighs. His fingers spread apart your pussy lips, admiring how full you were. “W-what are you doing?” You asked with a sweet hum. 
“I wanna taste both of you.” Steve hissed with a devilish smirk, diving into your sore cunt as his tongue flattened on your clit, savoring the taste of the two of you.
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gummysharklover · 12 days ago
Text
POP PRINCESS °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ !
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masterlist ! part 1 !
summary: ᯓ˚࿔ you leave austin to continue your tour
notes: ᯓ˚࿔ mostly yearning for this part, yall! ᯓ˚࿔ ultra fem!pop star!reader (she/her prns) ᯓ˚࿔ flashbacks in blue ! ᯓ˚࿔ so much thanks to my lovely mutuals who helped me work on this and give me ideas and such! ᯓ˚࿔ not proofread! ᯓ˚࿔ this is not the end of pop princess! there are more fics to come! :D
wc: ᯓ˚࿔ 5.7k
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You stand, tearing up as you lock eyes with Schlatt, who looks equally ruined. The crowd's cheers fade into background noise as you stare at one another.
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"Flordia is so warm," You laugh into the phone, the warmth of the sun filtering through your window as you describe the balmy air.
"Yeah," Ted agrees, "But I think the worst part is the humidity. It just clings to you."
You groan, "The humidity is sinister. It feels so heavy, you know? And I've genuinely been worried for the audience at my shows," You frown a little, "But I hope the water I have them pass out makes it a little bit better."
Ted runs a hand through his hair, "Yeah, I can't imagine what that's like."
"I've been drinking so much, Teddy." You whine, feeling dehydration grasp at your throat.
There's a lull in the conversation—a thick silence of uncertainty, "How... how's Schlatt?" You tentatively ask, voice laced with curiosity.
"You can ask him that yourself. You know that."
You grimace, feeling a knot form in your stomach, "It just feels so strange. I dunno, I feel like he hates me."
Ted sighs, "How many times do we need to go over this? He doesn't hate you."
"How can you be so sure?" You ask, nervously chewing on your lip as you fidget with your hands.
"Because," Ted replies with a steady tone that borders on parental, "He doesn't shut up about you. He misses you, Y/n. And I know you miss him too."
"What am I supposed to say? 'Hey, Schlatt. I know we haven't talked in forever, but do you want to catch up?'" You reply with embarrassment.
"Yeah, that's exactly what you're supposed to say," He states matter-of-factly.
"But, Teddy," You groan, dread creeping in, "That's so embarrassing!"
Ted sighs, "I assure you it's not. He wants to talk to you."
"Then why hasn't he reached out to me?" You question as a pang of unresolved tension hits you in the chest.
Ted is silent, the weight of the unanswered question lingering in the stagnant, humid air. He doesn't have an answer.
You let out a resigned sigh, "I've gotta go."
"It was nice talking to you, and hey, break a leg," He says with a warm voice of support.
"Thank you, Teddy. It was nice talking to you, too," You reply, feeling a mixture of gratitude and frustration as the call ends.
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"I need to break up with Kaleb," You mutter, absent-mindedly poking at your breakfast. Sunlight pours through the window, illuminating Schlatt's face.
Schlatt rolls his eyes dramatically, "I despise that guy. I was so upset when I saw you two were together."
You raise your eyebrow, a coy smile playing on your lips, "Really?" You ask as warmth flutters through your chest at his words.
Schlatt scoffs, leaning back in his chair, "'Course I was. He took my pretty girl away from me. Oh, and don't even get me started on his Instagram stories," He adds, tone becoming mockingly dramatic.
"Oh, I never look at those."
"It's for the better," He replies as a smirk ghosts his lips.
"Why? Do I look bad in them?"
He shakes his head, a genuine smile breaking through, "You could never look bad, pretty girl."
His words hang in the air, warm and reassuring.
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"Hun, what's wrong?" Jess asks, her voice filled with concern as she strides over to you.
"Just..." You sigh, letting your thoughts swirl uncontrollably, "A lot going on in my mind."
She side-hugs you, radiating a sense of warmth, "You can always talk to me, hun. You know that, right?"
Her southern drawl, melodic and sweet, never fails to make you smile, "I know, Jess. Thank you." You appreciate her unwavering support more than you could ever express.
"Now!" She claps your shoulder, eyes full of whimsy and encouragement, "Go out there and shine like the star you are!"
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Tonight's performance was particularly tough. People loved Forbidden Love so much that you added it to your setlist, and as the familiar melody fills the air, you can't help but continue your newfound tradition of scanning the crowd for Schlatt. You yearn for the moment your eyes meet his, but he's not there. He never is.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Schlatt sits in his office watching a live stream of your concert. He's been seeing you all over social media, and there are rumors you're dating again. Some guy named Oliver, and Schlatt has to imagine the worst—has to assume you're dating him.
He has your number; he can call you and find out. He won't. Despite everything Ted says about how you miss him, he tells himself you hate him.
He tears up as you sing Forbidden Love, hating how the crowd sings along like they know what it's about—like they could ever understand.
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"We're all over Twitter," You giggle, holding up your phone to show Schlatt.
As he leans in closer, he taps on a post—a candid shot of you, captured mid-gaze, completely enamored as you watch Schlatt while you sing 'Forbidden Love' at your last concert.
"This song—it's about..." He looks into your eyes, sincerity reflecting back into his, "Is it about me?"
You nod with a racing heart, "Of course it's about you."
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When you return to your hotel room, you sit on your bed and stare at his contact.
Jay <3
The heart taunts you, a relentless reminder of the possibilities that slipped through your fingers, leaving you with a lingering sense of what could have been given everything worked out. But it didn't. With a sigh, you set your phone down and turn away from its dimly lit screen as you make your way to the bathroom. Eager for a moment of solace, you anticipate the warm water of a hot shower to cascade over you, hoping it will wash away the remnants of doubt and regret you always seemed to feel.
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"I found a new manager," You smile as you sit on the couch next to Schlatt.
He lights up, "You did?" "Yeah," You smile, "Her name is Jess. I think she's going to be a good fit."
"No more fake boyfriends?" Schlatt laughs, but a sense of seriousness fills his tone.
"No. Only real ones from now on," You smile at him, and a warm spark of excitement ignited deep within Schlatt's heart, filling him with an unfamiliar sense of anticipation.
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You lay in bed, remembering how Schlatt cared for you that first night you went to his place—how he held you so gently as you walked. A gentle hand that cradled your hip to keep you steady. You remember how his demeanor changed for the first time—how he looked at you with so much adoration. You remember how he cared so deeply.
You turn on your side, pulling the soft blankets closer around you, and gently close your eyes. A sigh escapes you as you surrender to the stillness of the room, willing sleep to come. In the quiet darkness, you hope for dreams filled with him so you can remember what it's like to hear his voice again—what it's like to see that look in his eyes. And as you drift off, you allow your mind to wander through those soft, lovely moments together, desperately clinging to the hope that tonight, you can touch the fragments of your past with him once more.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
You groan as your alarm blares, willing you to wake up.
"Five more minutes," You murmur, though you're not sure why—there's nobody there.
After hitting the snooze button on your alarm about five times, you finally sit up, wincing as a sharp pain throbs in your temples. Cradling your forehead, you get out of bed and head to the bathroom. As you look in the mirror, you struggle to recognize the person staring back at you. The light in your eyes has dimmed, and you often feel sluggish. Your thoughts drift back to your last week in Austin.
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You sit at a table in the hotel lobby across from Schlatt, "I leave in a week," You mutter softly, looking into your cup.
Schlatt frowns, and his tone is so genuine you feel like you might cry, "I don't want you to."
"I don't want to either, but I have to continue my tour," You look at him, thoughts swirling in your mind, "What if you came with me?"
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You walk back to your bed and pick up your phone. Unlocking it, you're met with his contact glaring at you.
Jay <3
You swipe to your home screen and sigh.
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Schlatt gives you an apologetic look, and you can sense the rejection before he even opens his mouth, "My whole life is here. I—" He sighs, "I can't just up and leave Austin. It's my home."
You solemnly look back into your cup, "You're right. I guess I didn't think about that."
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You shake your head. You can't afford distractions today.
"What's goin' on with you, hon?" Jess asks backstage.
"I miss him." You reply.
"Who?" She asks before a look of realization settles on your face, "Oh, that boy, right? The one you keep talkin' about?"
You nod.
"Call him up, hon. No point in wallowing in your sadness."
You sigh, slumping further into the makeup chair, "But I can't have him reject me again. What if he doesn't pick up?"
She rubs small circles on your back, "Then he's not worth your time or energy. Okay?"
You nod, "Okay."
"Now? What are you going to do?"
You smile, "Go out there and shine like the star I am."
She claps your back with a grin, "Atta girl!"
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
After the concert, you trudge back to your dressing room, practically collapsing on the small loveseat from exhaustion. You pull out your phone and open Instagram, trying to focus on anything other than Schlatt. But to your luck, his story is the first one on your feed. Too tired to know any better, you press on his icon, smiling as you see a picture of him and Jambo.
Schlatt opens Instagram. He sighs as he refreshes your page, desperate for some sort of contact with you—one-sided or not. To his dissatisfaction, nothing new pops up, and he sighs. Bored, he checks the stats on his story, muttering about how stupid it was to have stats anyway, but he stops his mini rant when he sees your profile picture as one of the people who viewed his story.
"Holy shit," He murmurs.
He stays up the rest of the night, unable to sleep due to thoughts of you plaguing his mind.
Regret fills you as you realize what you've done as you tell yourself he hates you, but then those words echo in your mind.
"I could never hate you, pretty girl."
Never hate you.
And you try so hard to believe it, to recount those exact words, but for some reason, your brain tells you it's all a lie.
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"Oliver, I don't know what to do," You mutter to your friend.
Oliver shrugs, "I've told you all I can. Call him."
"What if he hates me?" You whine, dramatically throwing your head into your hands.
"He doesn't hate you," Oliver tries reassuring, but it feels like a fruitless endeavor.
You take a deep breath as you try to calm the pool of anxiety growing in your chest at the thought of talking to Schlatt, "But what if he doesn't want to talk to me? What if I ruined everything?"
"Sometimes you have to take risks," Oliver replies, "You won't know unless you try."
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
The more Schlatt sees you and Oliver all over the media, the more agitated he grows. His finger hovers over the call button, the screen lighting up his face. He's so close to tapping that stupid phone symbol, the one he's sat and stared at for hours on end, but he throws his phone onto the couch, groaning as he stands up.
"Get it together, man," He grumbles, "She's just a girl."
But, in the back of his mind, he knows you're more than that. You're more than "just a girl." You made him feel something he's never felt before, and at first, it was uncomfortable. He hated it, so he hated you, but then the feeling settled in his chest, and it felt warm—you felt warm. Your giggles were sweet as they bubbled up from your chest, and the creaking of the floorboards as he walks over to his couch sharply contrasts with those memories of your laughter—of your voice. How you used to light up a room with your smile, how you smelled—all these small rememberings he can feel slipping through his fingers with each passing second he doesn't have you.
He sits down on the couch, picking up his phone. Your contact stares back at him, and he decides he's finally going to message you.
'So what's up with this Oliver guy?' He types out, thumb hovering over the send arrow. Rereading the message, Schlatt grimaces as shame bubbles up from deep within his gut.
'I hope the tour's going well,' No—too impersonal.
He thinks for a second about what he actually wants to say to you, 'I miss you so much, pretty girl, and it's killing me to pretend I don't.'
He stares at the text, reading it over and over again. Pretending? Is that what he's doing?
So he edits it, 'I miss you so much, pretty girl, and it's killing me that I keep ignoring you.' But he hates how that reads, so he deletes the message altogether.
Finally, he types out a simple: 'Hey,'
But even that feels like too much, so he highlights the message, pressing delete for the final time that night.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
You sit alone in another hotel room, staring at the abstract painting hanging across your bed. It's the kind of still that's more oppressive than peaceful. Picking up your phone, you stare at yourself in the reflection of the black screen. The bustling city life seems so distant as you swipe up and scroll to Schlatt's contact. You feel cut off from the loud traffic and neon lights as you picture him, maybe nursing a drink as he sits on the couch, laughing at an old re-run of a cartoon he loved when he was younger.
The thought leaves a bittersweet ache in your heart. You can almost hear his laugh, grounding you in a way nothing ever has before. But then you look down at your screen, seeing the time stamp of your last message, and you sigh.
You replay your last interaction for the hundredth time, looking for something you might have missed—some sign that he wants you to reach out. But all you can recall is his faint, ambivalent smile as he waved goodbye to you.
'Hi, Jay, I've missed you,' You almost hit send, but your heartbeat spikes and you delete the message.
'Hope you're well!' But that sounds so disingenuous.
Lastly, you type out a simple: 'How are you?' But you remember something he confessed as you cared for him while he was half asleep and tipsy.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
"You want to hear a secret?" He quietly mumbles as you lead him to his bed.
"Sure," You amusedly reply. "I'm scared of new things. I prefer to keep things the same."
You pause, tilting your head thoughtfully, "If things never change, how can you hope to grow—to reach any destination in life?"
He's silent as he takes in the weight of your words, not having an answer.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
You'd be selfish to reach out. He's living his calm, peaceful life, and you would be disturbing that. The words "I can't just up and leave Austin" taunt you as they echo in your mind. You think about the implications of your actions—how your longing to reconnect might disturb the tranquility he's built. Part of you yearns to reach out—to bridge the gap, share more moments and stolen glances, but you know the risk it carries. o you put your phone down and let the silence settle in your bones as you rest your head in your hands. He deserves peace, and your life isn't peaceful. Not for him—not for anyone, so you close your eyes and tell yourself it's for the best, even if the ache in your heart says otherwise.
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Schlatt wakes up, the harsh morning light filtering through the windows. He rubs his eyes, attempting to shake off the remnants of sleep. A familiar pang of stillness crashes over him as he sits up like a strong wave does a rock on the beach. It feels overwhelming—knowing that this ache continues to grow with each passing day you weren't there.
The silence in the room feels heavy, amplified by the absence of your laughter and the warmth of your presence. He looks around his room, taking in the familiar surroundings that now feel eerily different. Walls that once echoed with shared conversations now stand silent while the air stays stagnant with fading memories. Taking a deep breath, he wonders if the day holds any promise of change or if it'll just be another reminder of what he lost.
Out of habit, he checks your page. Surprised to see a new post, he clicks on it, swiping to see the pictures of fans dressed for your concert. The excitement from each person is nearly tangible, and he remembers what it was like to see you for the first time—how he ended up watching in admiration as he tried to convince Ted he hated the performance. Then he swipes to a picture of you; you're smiling, bathed in pink lights, as you sing to a roaring crowd. He feels a smile filled with admiration tug at his lips as he goes to comment.
'Looks like you're enjoying yourself,'
Then he stares at the screen until the words just look like letters—pointless letters, and deletes the message. Something feels off—wrong, even. Here he was, sitting in Austin while you were out there, miles away, selling out stadiums. What would you do with a comment from him? Would you even care? His words felt meaningless and small, like they wouldn't even register in your busy life.
And he knows that one message—a single crumb from you—would turn his life upside down. Maybe that's why he avoids messaging you. Schlatt's life is slow and steady, and he's comfortable with it. He likes waking up and doing his routine. He likes feeding his cats and lazing around. He thinks about you—about how grand your life is, and he sighs. He would just be holding you back, and a sharp pang of fear rises in him. Tilting his head back, he stares at the ceiling, knowing he can't have it both ways—knowing he has to choose you or stability. But he's not ready to let go of either.
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But as the days gradually shift into weeks and the weeks seamlessly blend into months, you and Schlatt both find yourselves caught in this unrelenting cycle. Every day feels like a mirror that reflects the last, and the rhythm of your routines becomes monotonous backdrops to your lives. The world around you continues to change, but you remain in this endless loop where time seems to lose its meaning, and every moment stretches on indefinitely.
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You sit backstage, and the usual symphony of noises around you feel distant—like you're underwater, trying to listen to those calling to you from the shore. Someone is talking—maybe your manager—but the words pass by you in a blur, barely registering. All you can focus on is the aching desire to check your phone again, as if this time, by some miracle, you would find something different.
Your fingers fidget with the skin around your nails, picking at the rough edges in a small attempt to ground yourself. But it doesn't help alleviate the familiar ache that twists in your chest each time you open Schlatt's profile and scan the screen for any sign of life—any hint that he still thinks of you. But there's nothing, just the same posts from weeks ago, like his life is paused—like he's frozen in time.
People move around you, exchanging laughter and energy, but you sit still, unable to shake the uncomfortable feeling of his absence gnawing away at you. It's as if he's slipped away, and the only pieces left of him are the memories you cling to and the photos on his page that you've already memorized.
Taking a deep breath, you tuck your phone away, attempting to be present. But your gaze still wanders, sweeping the room as if, by some chance, he'd be there—as if he'd somehow find his way back into your world. But all you find is emptiness, a quiet reminder of what isn't there. And in that space, the ache settles deeper, making a permanent home in your heart.
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'Goodbye.'
The word hangs in the air, loaded with uncertainty. What does it truly mean? Does it signify that he's vanishing from the online world just as he has from your personal one? Or is it a final farewell that suggests you'll never see his face again?
You finally muster the courage to watch the video, and a swirl of confusion envelops you as he passionately bashes Texas—his disdain for Austin palpable. The haunting phrase, "I can't just up and leave Austin," reverberates in your mind, and a visceral sense of betrayal hits you like a semi-truck, leaving you reeling from the unexpected revelation. You feel frozen as you sit and watch him talk about needing a change—about how Austin is dull and lifeless.
Your mind reels while your heart pounds in your chest.
"Fellas, I'm goin' back home."
But isn't that what he called Austin? Didn't he call it home? When you'd asked him to join you on tour and invited him into your life, he said Austin was his home, that he couldn't abandon it. The life he'd made, the stability, the routine were his reasons for staying behind—the reasons he chose not to be with you.
Yet here he was, casually announcing that he was leaving it all behind. For New York, without a word to you.
He told you he couldn't make that type of change, and you'd stupidly believed him. You accepted stability was what he needed—what kept him grounded—so you let him go, thinking it was better than pushing him out of his comfort zone. But it turns out he'd been willing to leave it all—just not for you.
You click your phone off, and the sudden absence of sound intensifies the silence around you. It feels deafening as your thoughts swirl chaotically. Hurt and anger intertwine to create a tumultuous mix that you can't ignore. Images flash through your mind—his laughter during the moments you shared now overshadowed by the realization that he's moving on, and he's doing it without you. He's actively chosen a path that doesn't have you in it. And the knowledge that he's opened a new chapter free from the weight of your shared history hits you hard as the ache in your chest deepens, and you wonder how he can carry on so easily without looking back. You stare at the ceiling, eyes filled with tears heavy with all the words you'd never get to say to him.
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The light of dawn that filters through the curtains awakes you, and you squint against the brightness. Rubbing your puffy eyes, you slowly sit up while feeling the heaviness of a restless night's sleep still clinging to you.
You dread today.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
The airport is full of motion as travelers weave through the chaos, only focusing on reaching their destination. Schlatt leans against the pillar of a small Café, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie as he waits for his flight. He's in no rush as the plane for his connecting flight to New York wouldn't even arrive for another two hours. The noise of static that rolls through the intercom as announcements are made and the clacking of flight attendant's high heels fade into the background as he people-watches, gaze unfocused until something—someone—catches his eye.
You.
Schlatt instinctively straightens as he feels a sharp, unexpected jolt course through his body and settle in his heart. You walk towards a gate on the far side of the terminal, and the curve of your face is distinct and unmistakable, even in the crowd surrounding you. You look tired, shoulders slouched ever so slightly, but there's still something purposeful in the way you move.
He feels frozen, feet refusing to carry him closer to you. His mind races, caught somewhere between relief and panic as he wonders why you're here. And then it clicks—New York, of course. He saw it on your schedule weeks ago during a moment of weakness when he scrolled through the updates he told himself he didn't care about. He swallows hard as you stop to adjust your bag, tilting your head to check the departure board. For a split second, he wonders if you're looking for him—if, somehow, you know he's here. But your gaze sweeps right past him, and the sharp pang of being invisible to you lodges itself deep in his chest.
He could walk up to you, but what would he say? That he's been watching from a distance, too scared to reach out—too worried to know if you'd still want him in your life? The words burn his throat like acid. So he stays rooted to the spot, hidden among the hundreds of travelers. His jaw tightens as he watches you fidget with the strap of your bag—a small habit he knows all too well. You look lovely, even in your quiet unease, making him hate himself a little more than before.
An announcement jolts him from his trance, and he watches you walk toward your gate, feeling the distance between you stretch with every step.
He turns back to the cafe, staring blankly at the menu, pretending he hadn't just seen the one person he wanted most leave his life for the second time.
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The crowd roars as the lights dim. You stand behind the curtain, heart pounding in time with the rhythm of the cheers.
New York—the city that never sleeps.
You smooth out your outfit one last time before the curtains part. You're blinded by the stage lights as the crowd's roar becomes deafening.
After finishing Corner Store, you smile, letting the crowd's energy wash over you as you step into the spotlight.
"New York City," You call into the mic, "It's so good to be here tonight."
The response is electric as cheers and applause fill the stadium. Schlatt is on your mind, and you feel like you're back in Los Angeles, performing that first night when all you could think about was that mysterious, mean man at the party. You hope history will repeat itself as you scan the crowd for him once again.
The possibility pulls at you while hope flickers in your chest. You told yourself to expect nothing, but the ache of missing him seems to be louder than the crowd as they chant your song.
Pink lights reflect off countless smiling faces, but none of them are his signature smirk. Your throat tightens as you continue to perform—continue to smile, but your heart sinks lower with each verse.
He's not here.
You try to shake the thought away—you can't afford distractions. You can never afford distractions. But the memories of his laugh, his voice, how he'd call you pretty girl like it was your name—it's all too much, overwhelming you.
You reach Forbidden Love, and you step away from the mic, letting the crowd sing for you. The sound surges as thousands of voices fill the space. You take the short moment to look over them again, searching for Schlatt.
All you find are strangers.
The realization hits you hard, and a pang of loneliness cuts through the adrenaline. He's not here. He's not in the crowd—he isn't waiting for you after the show. He's in a world far from your own, and for the first time in months, your voice falters as you sing.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Backstage, the crowd's noise fades into a distant hum while you sip on your water. You think of Schlatt—think of what he'd say given he saw you now—and let the ache settle deep in your heart. You hope he hears about the performance—about how you cried—and knows you're thinking of him, even if he's miles away.
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The sunlight streaming through the window is harsh—too bright for how Schlatt feels as he groans and reaches for his phone. His feed loads slowly, and he rubs his eyes as the images come into focus.
You're everywhere.
Clips from last night's performance are trending, with fans posting blurry videos and pictures of you on stage. The captions talk about how beautiful—how utterly unforgettable you'd been.
Schlatt scrolls further, thumb hesitating over a video of you singing Forbidden Love. The caption is trying to decipher who the song could be about, and you look untouchable in the dim light of the stage.
Before he can stop himself, he clicks on the video. Your voice pours through the tiny speaker, and he hates how much it hurts to hear as the song fills the quiet of the room.
"She's fucking everywhere," He mutters.
The feeling clings to him as he grabs his jacket. He needs air—needs to get away from thoughts of you.
But at the corner of his street, a billboard stands tall. A picture of you on stage advertises your tour. The tagline reads, 'A Voice That Can't Be Ignored.' And he scoffs—that's one way to put it.
On the way to the store, he passes a magazine stand where your face stares back at him from glossy covers. Every headline seems to scream your name, and he keeps his head down—refusing to look at them.
He reaches the store, and your voice greets him as the doors slide open. Your music croons softly over the radio, and he freezes for a moment, staring at the fresh produce as his lips press tightly together. He quickly grabs what he needs and makes his way to the register.
He gives the cashier a tight-lipped smile, and as she begins ringing his items, she speaks, "She's amazing, isn't she?"
Schlatt blinks, caught off guard, "What?"
"This singer," The woman says, "Her music has been on repeat all week. I still can't believe she's here right now."
He hums in response, nodding as he hands her the cash, "Keep the change," He says, giddy to leave.
He walks home, keeping his head down to avoid any possible conversation. Then he stops, frozen in his tracks, as he sees your silhouette. He wants to go up to you—wants to hear your voice. For a moment, he wonders if you'll turn around and see him, but you don't. And he doesn't let you.
Ducking his head, Schlatt quickly crosses the street. His pulse hammers as he picks up his pace, trying to get away from the snippets of your voice. His stomach twists, the same pang of loneliness and guilt that's been haunting him since you left Austin. It would've been so easy to stay on the other side of the street—to walk up to you. He doesn't.
What would he even say? That he misses you? That every song, every picture, every damn video of you makes him ache with yearning? That he hates how much he wants to be part of your world despite it terrifying him at the same time?
He shoves his thoughts down as he walks as quickly as possible. He can't face you. Not now, not like this, not conflicted and uncertain while stuck in a life he isn't ready to leave but can't stay in without thinking of you.
A minute or so later, he glances back, but you're gone. His absence hits him harder than the sight of you ever could. He stands there for a moment, staring at the spot where you'd been. It's funny how people just fill the space where you were as if you hadn't even been there.
When he gets home, he drops the bag of groceries onto the counter and slouches onto the couch. It feels like the universe is mocking him, pushing you into every corner of his life and reminding him of what he can't have. And no matter how far he goes—how much he tries to clear his head—it seems like you are always going to be there, right out of reach.
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You reach your hand towards the plastic separating you and the litter of kittens. One lazily stretches, blinking at you with disinterest before curling back into a ball.
A small smile tugs at your lips. It's been a while since you let yourself slow down like this and just exist. The chaos of your tour has been relentless, and this small pocket of quiet feels like a reprieve.
As he enters the store, Schlatt mutters something about Jambo running out of treats again. He's been making excuses to leave his house—telling himself he's going out because he wants to reconnect with the city, but he's lying to himself. He knows, deep down, that he keeps going out because he's hoping to see you again, hoping you'll notice him.
And then he turns to the cat aisle, steps faltering as he catches sight of you. There you are, standing alone, focusing entirely on the kittens before you. For a second, he considers walking away—slipping out of the store before you notice him. But the way you stand there under the dim lighting, shoulders slightly slumped, while looking at the cats with quiet affection, makes him pause. His feet begin moving on their own accord as he runs a hand through his hair, heart pounding harder and harder with each passing second. He doesn't have to say anything—you didn't see him—he could leave and pretend this never happened, but the thought of walking away again felt heavier than the fear of facing you. So he goes to tap on your shoulder, but he hesitates—finger hovering over you like it did the call button so many times before this moment. But he actually commits this time—no more chickening out, no more running away. This is it.
You turn around as you feel a soft tap on your shoulder, "Yes?" But you feel the air leave your body when you realize who stands before you.
He awkwardly waves, "Hey, pretty girl."
"Jay… hi."
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thank you so much for reading <3
if you liked this, please reblog it! im hoping to reach my true and final form of a gummy shark, and i grow stronger with each reblog!
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bearieio · 1 year ago
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sleepytime codmw2 headcanons for all my fellow crazy sleepers out there \(◕‿◕)
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warnings: anything sleep-related, fluff; sfw, “crazy” sleeper!reader, gender neutral!reader; no prns, just you your(s), and you’re”
characters: könig, simon “ghost” riley, johnny “soap” mactavish, captain john price, alejandro vargas
a/n: inspiration taken from jaennwrites and empresskylo !! hopefully my headcanons aren’t exactly like theirs similar! but i liked a lot of theirs and implicated them into this post ;) this is MOSTLY proofread... but idk D’:
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the first time you and simon slept together, you woke up in the most peculiar position. simon was placed on the far left, while you were on the far right.
 when you turn to face him, he’s laid flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, already awake. “you move.. so much in your sleep, d’y’know that?” he angles his head to look at you, slightly irritated (emphasis on slightly). voice hoarse and tired as if he’d not even got so much as a blink during the night.
you groan and move closer to him, “you’re so dramatic, simon.” snuggling into you, he scoffed, “yeah right. i should record you when you’re knocked out. then we’ll see who’s really the dramatic one.”
 the act of actually falling asleep together is a bit less… “lively,” as he describes it. 
you and ghost, curled up together on the sofa, quietly drifting into slumber. wrapping you up in his arms, he holds you tight, not wanting you to escape his grasp with how much you squirm and wiggle in during your naps. shallow and slow breaths coming from the two of you. as the minutes passed, you both slip into a calm hush, closing your eyes you can hear the sound of simon’s heart. steady, quiet, and consistant.
soap has a photo album dedicated to the “absolutely insane” positions he finds you in when he comes home. 
“look- here’s the one of you with your foot on the nightstand- AND- here’s the one where your entire lower half isn’t even on the bed-“ you gasp at the grisly photos, a shocked look on your face.
“what?? you thought i was lying when i said that you looked literally unhinged when i come home to you asleep?”
moving you to the other side of the bed was no problem partially because you didn’t mind and partially because he’s done it so many times. grabbing you by the ankles, the arms, anything that was in arms length, was usually being moved to the other side of the bed.
more times than not, it was done all for naught because when it was time for the two of you to get up, you were almost always on top of him, in your gnarly positions. 
price is always the one to fall asleep (and wake up) first while cuddling together. like a 6th sense, he’s always aware of when you’re moving or trying to get up from the bed or the couch.. wherever you both had decided to rest.
"where do you think you’re goin’, little munchkin?” he grumbles, tightening his grip on you “trying to escape so soon?”
he never minds when he finds one of your limbs on top of him in the mornings. gently moving your arms, legs, or your body from his. 
waking up earlier than you, he never likes to leave without leaving you something whether it’s a note of his whereabouts, a cup of tea (or coffee if you prefer it), or maybe a bagel or toast if he has time to do so. 
when you both are cuddled up on the couch, your head laid against his chest (your back facing his chest). he strokes your hair (or body if you don’t want your hair being touched! he understands.), traces his fingertips along your arms and legs, and occasionally hums to you as you fall asleep in his arms. 
or if you’re resting against him (your chest facing his), he’d be rubbing your back, the back of your head, and hugging you, keeping you as close to him as physically possible. placing kisses on your head and forehead every now and again. 
alejandro literally cannot sleep without you. he might fall asleep here and there, but he cannot stay asleep for very long without you. 
you being there puts his mind at ease and allows him to truly relax, with not a care in the world about anything else… other than you :’)
he definitely wakes up throughout the night to make sure you’re still in his arms. or at least lying next to him. 
the one time he wakes up and you’re not next to him, the first place he checks is the bathroom. checking under the underside of the bathroom door and not seeing the light glowing from it, he practically bolts down the hallway, checking the kitchen.
“woah- woah! slow down alejandro!” you shout, startled by the way he came rushing into the kitchen, almost causing you to drink your cup of water. 
“perdóname mija, i didn’t mean to scare you. i just-“ he draws long breath, taking your hand in his. “i couldn’t find you, mija.” you grip his hand and take a sip of your water, smiling at his concern.
"c'mon, let's go back to bed, cariño."
because of the sheer size of könig, the size of the mattress that you two share is insane. 
“a....wyoming king, i think they call it,” you tell him. he looks at you, sorta puzzled, but mostly happy that you guys have a bed that you both can share :)
the nights he finds you in the most ridiculous positions, he does not have the ability to contain himself. “ah.. schatz, how can you sleep in such a absurd position?” he says, lightly bringing his hand down onto your backside. 
you groan and roll over to the middle of the bed, allowing him to climb in next to you.
the both of you are completely different when it comes to how much you guys move during the night. könig is as calm and as still as the mountain he is, you on the other hand, are the wind, the clouds, and the animals on and around the mountain. both climbing on top of him and around the large bed you share with said mountain. 
when könig just so happens to wake up in the morning he can’t help but smile and wrap you up in his arms, rubbing your back and listening to your slow and tranquil breathing against him.
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pt 2 w/ gaz!
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spadecentral · 2 years ago
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😚 Fall For You | Misc. TWST
>> requested: no >> a/n: this was the fic from the request for characters
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>> masterlist: ramshackle (misc.) >> summary: who fell harder? who fell first? >> reader prns: they/them >> warning(s): none
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you fell first, he fell harder
Riddle Rosehearts was not accustomed to falling in love. He had rarely ever received affection to begin with. But when you started hanging out with him more, doing things for him, with him… he truly fell for you.
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he fell first, you fell harder
Ace Trappola was a prankster. He usually joked around with his friends a whole lot, but he found himself messing with you a whole lot more. You didn’t mind of course, you found it quite endearing. And somehow, his stupidity had gained him rizz points, because you could never see to get your mind off of him.
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you fell first, he fell harder
Jack Howl knew of you, how you hung around him all the time. He never seemed to mind it. He liked you being around, actually. Your scent was much nicer than everyone else’s. And one day, when you were sick, he truly found how much he missed you.
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you fell first, he fell harder
At first, Floyd Leech bothering you was nothing out of the ordinary. He seemed to prod and poke everyone, and he didn’t want to leave you out of the group. You always seemed to smile when he was around, so he did it more often; calling you ‘Shrimpy' and giving you tight, air-depriving hugs. But what he didn’t notice was him falling for you.
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he fell first, you fell harder
Jamil Viper was not unaware of your presence. Quite the opposite in fact. He was hyper-aware of you, always taking mental notes of your likes and dislikes. He would make you small snacks of some of your favorite foods. But he was too insecure to tell you that he liked you outright, so he hoped that by giving you these gifts you would gain feelings for him like he did for you. And you did.
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>> twst taglist: @tulipluvlettr | @ghost-hyacinth | @oseathepebble | @ventisaircurrent | @epelys | @pastelmages | @xphantasmagoriax | @atlasnessie | @divinesapph | @ze-maki-nin | @booming-spam | @flqyd-is-lost | @cupids-chamber | @ravenlking | @queerlordsimon | @kyraxiyn | @rayisalive | @oheyfox | @menherasy | @oepionie | @furoidoleech
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hvman-scvm · 10 months ago
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NECROLUST || SIMON “GHOST” RILEY
PAIRING ;; SIMON “GHOST” RILEY / SENTIENT ! ZOMBIE ! READER (MALE, YOU/YOUR PRNS USED)
SUMMARY ;; love beyond the grave ig
CW ;; Simon is kinda sick on the head but we love him anyways, borderline romantic necrophilia ?? I guess. No actual smut included tho, usual zombie stuff like rotting n whatnot, established relationship, kind of silly ngl ?
WRITER’S NOTE ;; the title is a mayhem song bcuz I’m a total poser. There’s so much stuff 4 zombie ! Ghost which - don’t get me wrong- I like, but there’s barely any love 4 zombie ! Reader, and luckily ghost is just full of it.
Simon sighed in focus, a medical needle in hand as he sewed up your jaw for what had to be the 100th time, not that he minded; he loved taking care of you. It was hard to keep your jaw in place with how soft your rotting flesh is, how it kept ripping with the smallest movements.
He shook off a maggot that crawled into his hand, tying off the last thread and leaning in to kiss the newly sewed up, slimy skin where your jaw connects to the top of your skull.
“Better?” He spoke softly, he knew you understood him, although you never spoke back. The way your clouded eyes landed on his briefly let him knew that you not only hear him, but understand what he’s saying to you. As you moved your jaw up and down experimentally, you rapidly moved forward, trying to latch your teeth on whatever of ghost’s flesh you would reach first. But he was faster, tutting as he put a hand over your mouth, not affected by the sight of your maggots crawling over his gloves.
“Bad. No biting.” He said as if he was speaking to an untrained dog, before patting your head almost condescendingly. He reached around for the muzzle they keep on you and quickly attached it over your head, receiving a growl in response.
“You’ll be fine, love.” He said sincerely, looking at you sadly; he missed you. He missed being able to have conversations with you and feeling your warm skin on his own. He brought you to his chest, getting another growl. He sniffled, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he kissed the top of your head. “They’ll find a cure, I promise.”
It was a daily routine; he’d patch you up, then getting overwhelmingly sad at your helpless state- at his helpless state. He wished he could find a way to bring you back. But a part of him, a part he buried deep inside himself, found enjoyment in this. He loved how reliant you were on him in your rotting state, loved the way your clouded eyes held eye contact with him and how incomprehensible growls would leave your rotting vocal cords whenever he would ask a question.
He caressed the top of your head, kissing it gently as he leaned his face on it. The smell of rot filled his nostrils, and he found himself taking it in by inhaling deeply. It was intoxicating.
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moonlight1110 · 10 months ago
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He knows he's better (Part 2)
Ghost x Reader
You come home late from a date with an old friend of yours, a date which you've mentioned to Simon... Your roommate who DEFINITELY has feelings for you
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Tags: afab!reader, smut, p in v, prn WITH plot, far from canon simon, tension tension tension!, i write with badjhur's voice in my ear, he's so much better tbh, so much talking, not proofread uwu
Read part 1 for context, but not necessary to understand the whole thing ;p
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"Simon-!" You gasped, feeling his lips drag down to your neck, giving you open-mouthed kisses. "Tell me..." he mumbled against your skin, licking a stripe along your throat. "When was the last time you've been properly taken care of, huh?" He asked, mocking all those who came before him.
"Can't... remember—" you breathed out, closing your eyes as the sensation of his tongue trailing down your neck was starting to overwhelm you, no one had ever taken so much time and care to make you feel this good before.
Simon clicked his tongue, groaning lowly as his hands snaked their way down to your back and under your dress, cupping the globes of your ass in his rough hands, kneading slowly as he brought you closer on his lap.
"Can't remember?" He laughed, humming as he brought his head back up to meet your eyes. "Then I'll just have to remind you," his lips met with yours in a slow, sensual kiss as he pulled you closer, guiding your hips to grind down on the bulge that was starting to form in his pants.
"Remind you how you deserve it," he whispered, pulling away briefly before going back in to kiss you. "Remind you how bad you need it..." He groaned, feeling the heat from your core start to make him harder under you.
The feeling made you shut your eyes tighter, your body seemingly moving on its own as you ground your hips harder against him, desperate for some friction. "Simon, please..." You whispered, hands gripping on his shoulders.
"Use your words, love..." He chuckled, keeping the steady pace of his lips on yours, his hands still kneading the plump flesh of your ass, teasing you by going under the hem of your panties ever so slightly.
"Want you..." Your response was met with a grin against your lips. "What do you want from me?" He replied teasingly, giving your bottom lip a little bite that made you whimper. "Simon, please... I don't need to say it..." You opened your eyes, giving him a glare. "Oh but you do, lovie," he started, his hands retracting from your ass to move over to your thighs.
"Can't just give you anything, I need you to tell me what y' want" he grinned, hands travelling higher until he reached your inner thighs, squeezing the flesh softly.
"Y' used to taking whatever your little dates give you, huh? M'not like them, sweetheart, far from them..." He whispered, pressing soft kisses to your jaw. "Tell me what you need so I can give it to you..." He continued, humming against your skin.
Without seeing a way around your current situation, you had no choice but to oblige. He was right, none of your dates or flings paid this close attention to you, this was so different from what you were normally used to, different but welcomed.
You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around Simon's neck as you leaned closer to his ear. "Just want you so bad... I don't..." You hesitate for a moment, trying to think of what to say next. "I don't know what to ask for..." You confessed, burying your head in the crook of his neck to hide the way your face was getting hotter.
Simon chuckled, his hands now moving to hold your body close to his as he stood up, lifting you. "Let's figure out what you want then, love" without another word, he carried you to your bedroom, giving you little kisses here and there until he gently placed you on your bed, giving himself space between your legs.
"So perfect..." He grinned, leaning down to connect your lips. You hummed, returning it immediately. This made Simon smile against your lips as he held your legs on either side of his hips, hovering on top of you.
"Si..." You whispered breathily, desperate for another kiss when you parted. He chuckled when you pouted, thinking about how cute you looked in that moment. "Yes?" He asked teasingly, moving down your body to kiss at your neck then down to the valley of your breasts as one of his hands trailed up from under your dress, hiking it up to reveal your hot core, hidden behind your underwear.
It made Simon groan under his breath, seeing the way you were squirming under him.
"I don't wanna wait... Can we just do it, please?" You whined, looking down at him, eyes blown out and clouded with desperation. Simon laughed as he pushed your dress up further, taking it off of your body with care. "We can't just do it, sweetheart," He whispered, breath hot against your stomach as his hands travelled under your back to unclasp your bra.
"Need t'prepare you for me..." He continued, kissing your collarbone as he fumbled with the hooks for bit before finally taking your bra off. You could see the way his eyes lit up when he finally saw your bare chest, immediately licking around your perky nipples before taking it in his mouth to suck on it.
"So beautiful, love..." He groaned against your chest, making sure to give your other breast some attention by cupping it in his much larger hand, rubbing your nipple in little circles. You moaned silently, between the bulge in his pants that was rubbing up on your clothed sex, and his hot mouth sucking on your tits, it was overwhelming.
You whined, throwing your head back against the pillows as your back arched up into him. You tried to get your hand under your panties, desperate to satisfy yourself but you were quickly stopped by Simon's hand which was now interlocked with yours. "No, no..." He chuckled, mouth moving to suck on your other nipple.
"The only way you're gonna be feeling good tonight is from me, and me only" He said sternly, looking up into your eyes as he hummed, taking your nipple between his teeth, making you gasp.
After a few more minutes, Simon could tell you were starting to get impatient, it was cute, he thought... But he couldn't deny he was also starting to get impatient himself.
His mouth moved down your body, kissing and licking your skin down to your stomach and now just above the hem of your underwear. He looked up at you, eyes meeting yours in a silent exchange as you nodded, biting your lip.
"Fuck..." He cursed under his breath as he finally took your underwear off, seeing how soaked you were. "All for me?" He teased, humming as he closed his eyes and hooked an arm around your thigh, lifting it up to his mouth to give your inner thigh sweet kisses.
"Fuckin' pretty all over, love..." He groaned, eyebrows knitting as he inched closer to your weeping cunt.
"Simon..." You breathed out, back arching when you felt his tongue on you, licking and sucking at your clit. "Taste so good, baby..." He moaned, his tongue moving faster and slipping into your entrance, it was almost like he was making out with your pussy at this point.
His nose was bumping against your clit as he fucked you open with his tongue, moaning against your cunt as he ate you out like a man starved
"Si—!" You gasped as your fingers found his hair, tugging at it with just a bit of pressure, this didn't make Simon stop however, and it only encouraged him more. Your moans and whimpers driving him absolutely insane as he continued to eat you out, moaning against your cunt.
"That's it, baby... Guide my head where you want it..." He chuckled, taking your clit between his puckered lips to suck on it, making you moan out loud.
The room was hot, and the sounds of your moans mixed with the wet sounds of Simon's mouth on your pussy was overwhelming. His thumb moved down to your clit, rubbing it in circles as his tongue slipped inside your entrance again.
"Oh, fuck..." You cursed, biting your lip as you felt a knot in your stomach start to form. You moaned Simon's name as your legs began to shake.
"That's it, doing so fuckin' well for me, sweetheart" he praised, feeling your clit twitch under his thumb. "Wanna taste you on my tongue so bad, baby... Come on" he continued, moving his thumb faster and completely in sync with his tongue.
"Can't anymore—" you whimpered, hands covering your face as you felt yourself getting close to your climax. "M'cumming, Si..." You moaned as your voice trembled.
"Mhm, mhm..." Simon hummed between your legs while he nodding eagerly, desperate to taste your sweet juices on his tongue.
"Si—!" You gasped when you felt yourself finally come undone, your back arched and your hips grinded against Simon's face as he lapped up all your juices, not wanting to waste a single drop even though you were practically dripping down his chin.
"You taste so good, baby, goddamn... So sweet..." He laughed as he leaned back up to sit on his knees. "Can't imagine how you'd feel around me..." He looked down at you with hungry eyes as he unbuckled his belt, kicking his pants and underwear off.
Your eyes widened, seeing how big he was as he stroked his cock in his hand. Tip red and angry as beads of precum dripped down. He smirked when he noticed your eyes on him as he lowered himself, pressing his tip to glide over your slick folds.
"You're so big..." You whispered, reaching out to try and hold him in your hand but you could barely even wrap your fingers around his entire girth.
He nodded, mouth opening slightly as he felt your fingers stroking his cock slowly, up and down against your cunt. "Mhmm, think you can take it, love?" He teased, bucking his hips to give your clit some friction.
Your breath hitched in your throat as you nodded, running your thumb over the slit of his tip. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes to see how his eyelashes fluttered shut, focusing on the feeling of your hands moving to pleasure him.
"I can't wait anymore, need you around my cock, baby..." He groaned as he leaned down to connect your lips in a passionate kiss as he laced his fingers with yours, his other hand positioning his dick at your entrance.
"Tell me if you wanna stop, okay?" He whispered in your ear as he teased your slit, tapping your clit with the tip of his dick a few times before he let it catch in your entrance.
You nod, squeezing his hand in yours as you waited for him to push in.
"Fuck..." His words were drawn out as he finally started to push his tip in slowly, "Simon!" You cried out, currently bridging between pleasure and pain as you felt the stretch of his dick inside you.
"Want me to stop? Am I hurting you?" He asked genuinely, groaning at how tight you were.
You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly as you continued to grip his hand. "N-no, don't... Slowly, please..." You whispered, trying to calm yourself down.
"Of course..." He reassured you, his other hand now rubbing gentle circles at your clit to try and relax you. "You're doing so well, baby... Just need you to relax for me..." he whispered as he moved again, letting you take him inch by inch.
Simon stopped when he was almost halfway in, he didn't want to overwhelm you so he stopped where he knew you could take it, after all, you were already doing so well and it would be up to you if you wanted to take him deeper, he just didn't want to force it.
"Tell me when you want me to move, love..." He said gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he rubbed soothing circles on your hand, whispering sweet nothings in your ear to calm you down.
You let yourself relax first, letting the small bit of pain subside before you gave Simon the go signal to move. You looked up at him, nodding slowly as you gripped his hand.
Simon nodded as he started to move, setting a slow pace. "Doing so well f'me... That's it, baby, you can take it..." He praised as he leaned his head back, getting lost in the feeling of your tight cunt around him. You couldn't speak as you adjusted to Simon's length, knowing it wasn't even all the way in.
"Fuck..." You cursed, feeling the pain slowly be replaced with pleasure as you moaned out, arching your back as Simon thrusted slowly, in and out.
"Taking me so well... Such a good girl..." He moaned, moving his hand to grip your waist, his pace increasing ever so slightly as he pulled you closer and guiding your hips to meet with his thrusts.
"Feels so good, Si..." You moaned breathily, biting your lip. Simon nodded, getting drunk on the feeling of your pussy clenching down on him everytime he gave you deeper thrusts.
"Can I go deeper, baby? Please?" He whispered, humming as he started to circle his thumb on your clit again. "Wanna feel you take my cock all the way, please..." He pleaded, dragging his thumb and adding more pressure to your clit.
"Yes—yes..." you nodded desperately. "Thank you-thank you, lovie... I know y'can take it" he groaned, his movements slowing down as he moaned out, giving you more of his cock.
"Si..!" You whimpered, feeling his cock inch deeper until you felt his hips fully bucking against yours when he started moving faster again.
He was big, overwhelmingly big, and he was starting to lose himself when he felt you messaging all of his cock in your tight cunt, pulsing around him.
"Holy fuck, lovie... You're driving me crazy" he chuckled, opening his eyes to look into yours as he moved faster. The sounds you were both making were almost pornographic now with how loud you were moaning his name and how wet your cunt sounded when Simon pounded into you.
"Wanna feel you clench on my cock, baby... Can you do that?" He whispered, giving you a hard thrust and humming when he pulled out all the way to pound into you again. "Wanna feel you cum around me..." He moaned out, going faster again as he felt himself on the brink of his climax.
You held onto his forearm as you whimpered, throwing your head back on the pillows even further. "I'm close— so close, Si..." You gasped, nails digging into his flesh.
"Cum for me... Wanna feel you so bad.. " he leaned down, crashing his lips against yours in a messy kiss as his thrusts started to get sloppy, his hands now gripping on your waist to fuck you against him in lustful desperation.
"Cumming—" you couldn't warn him early enough as you came on his cock, clenching down as moaned his name a little louder than before. Your legs trembled as you felt yourself ride out your orgasm, but Simon didn't stop moving just yet, chasing his own orgasm
He pulled out just when he was about to cum, stroking his cock furiously as he came all over your stomach and clit with silent praises, his voice in a whisper as he closed his eyes and laid on top of you.
"You did so well..." He chuckled when we calmed down, laying beside you and pulling you close to him. You nodded, silently thanking him when he brushed your hair from your face to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
A moment of silence passes by as Simon rubs your back soothingly, letting you rest your head on his chest.
"I love you sweetheart..." He said after a while, closing his eyes to hold you close to him. "Don't ever want you to settle for less anymore..." He whispered, and it was a promise now that he was officially yours.
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gennabi · 4 months ago
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first time holding your hand
lucifer x reader (no prns) • 0.5k
platonic/romantic; (very tiny) fluff, more of a character study i think..
[ og spoilers ch 12-13 , brief graphic description of violence/gore , slightly changed my writing format: i heard putting capital letters at front of sentences is more accessible (??) ]
misc masterlist | main masterlist
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When he first offered, it was simply a polite gesture of some sort.
You, the exchange program student whom Lord Diavolo entrusted to be under his and his brothers' care. Except the other five mentioned demons are no way in sight. He turns properly to you now, Satan's sudden disappearance leaving a slight bitter taste on his tongue.
If you were next? 
No. He cannot let that happens, he decides. There's no knowing to what lengths the prince of Devildom will do to him if that were the case. Most of all, he is the best at his job. That is why he gets to be the right hand man, well, after Barbatos that is. He could not let some mere human tarnish his centuries of hard work and reputation.
His gaze runs over you again, silently scoffing under his breath at how your jaw is clenching and the way you curl your fingers into fists, ready to spring them out if the ghost legend comes to fruition.
"Levi's the first to went missing, right?" He finally opens his mouth, leaving you no room to respond— not that your input is necessary anyway —when he continues. "Let's search his room first."
Then his gloved hand is slowly outstretched, palm facing towards you as you narrow your gaze on it. The silence lingers and he internally curses at you for not getting what he's oh so readily implying. With a click of his tongue, he explains, lips pulling into an amused smirk. "You look scared. Want to hold my hand?"
Your gaze narrows further at his question and your face scrunches for a few beats before you shrug, "Yeah." Tentatively, you place your hand in his, your gesture being met with a quick firm squeeze as you two start to walk together.
Your hand, he realizes first-hand, is warm. He isn't one to hold hands himself so the comparison he has pales greatly but he finds himself not minding the temperature. It's because you're a human, he deduces. A human who if he wants to, could easily sink his nails into the skin and tear your wrist apart.
He can feel the little tremors in your fingers still but you make no attempt to tighten the grip. Aren't you afraid? Why are you not leaning on him more? A part of him dislike the idea that you still walk on your toes around him. Tucking the thought neatly into the back of his mind, he focuses more on the task at hand when the door to Levi's room softly creaks open.
Your gaze wanders and settle on the PC Levi has left opened on the desk. Weird. Approaching the brightly lit screen, you naturally let go of his hand. For a second, he almost tugs you back to his side. Almost. And it's with that instinct that he acknowledges a speck of something unfamiliar starting to sit in his chest.
It'll pass.
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bringing back my all time obsession in the game
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ilove-masked-men · 11 months ago
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NO BC IMAGINE GHOST BEING LIKE SUPER CUDDLY???
I think I made this as gender neutral as I could!! Terms used: "pecks/boobs" you/yourself prns
A/N; I thought of this whilst cuddling this bear I have, idk my mind wandered
He came back from his mission at 4:37AM, arrived home at 5:03AM. He straps his gear off down to his boxers, heads to the bedroom, and drowns himself in deodrant so he doesn't smell too bad for you.
He slides into bed, crawls inside your arms and rests his face in your chest on your pecks/breasts, and wraps his arms around your body, inhaling your scent and your feel. He intertwines your legs as he begins drifting off to feel your hand playing in his hair and your soft lips against his scalp, he left out a soft hum before he finally falls asleep.
In the morning, he is REALLY bad. He turned off your alarms and called your work to tell them you won't be in already. He's snuggled up close to you and shows no signs of letting go, although the deodrant is wearing off.
"Si.. I have things to doo..." You whine, but making no effort to actually get him off.
He just grumbles and holds you tighter, snuggling unto you and basking in your scent.
" 've missed you.." He rumbles into your chest, you feel his chest rise and fall as he speaks and you find it oddly comforting. Knowing he's there.
His hands are running up and down your back, his fingertips sometimes ghosting the dent of your ass and hovering over your sides as he familiarises himself with you again. Sometimes his hand dips into your hair and plays with it, sometimes his hands ghost under your shirt and onto your back.
"Just five more minutes then.." You say non-committaly, knowing your going to be in bed for a few more hours (minimum)
He grumbles and uses his body strength to flip you over so that he was fully under you, caging you ontop of him.
Maybe more then a few more hours.
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