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ghostedghouls · 10 months

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make it hurt

✢ in an attempt to save himself from more hurt, dew decides to hurt swiss the only way he knows he can.

✢ pairing: Swiss x gn!reader / Dew x Swiss (not romantically)

✢ genre: angst

✢ warnings: manipulation, dew is an asshole, trauma, swiss has a dark past, mentioned murder, hurt/no comfort, dew has issues i dont blame him

✢ a/n: the romantic pairing is reader x swiss, but the story focuses more on dewdrop/ dewdrop x swiss because I wanted to explore this dynamic (and also hurt swiss whoops). Also this got way longer than i wanted it to be so maybe i’ll have to do a part 2 bc i cant stand bad endings :( | not beta read sorry

Dew was known for being the most difficult of the ghouls. He was known for his temper and anger, the heated arguments and the venom in his words.

Dew was known for his low blows.

The other ghouls knew that Dew hardly meant the things he said in a fit of anger and rage. At first the words had stung. The fire ghoul had a talent for finding the most hurtful words and digging deep, reaching for things he knew would provoke a reaction from the others; preferably anger or hurt. And oh boy, was it hurtful at times.

But the better the ghouls got to know him, the more they learned not to take the words to heart, no matter how hard it was at times. They knew it was his way of protecting himself, his way of making sure the other person stopped digging into him, stopped prying open old wounds. It was his way of making sure nobody would ever break down the walls that he so carefully had built around himself.

But even though the ghouls tried to not let the words get to them, they always eventually did. Dew knew how to get under their skin, tear open their wounds so his own could stay closed. A low blow from Dew would usually end the argument, the other ghoul too angry, shocked or hurt to continue the conversation.

But not with Swiss. Not today.

Swiss stood his ground as the fire ghoul spat insult after insult at him. His arms were crossed in front of his broad chest as he listened to the never-ending stream of words, carefully picked out by the smaller ghoul to dig into Swiss’ insecurities and worries. But Swiss saw through Dew easily. He knew that he was trying to deflect from his own worries and traumas. So he stood there and took the verbal abuse because he knew Dew didn’t mean it. Never did.

Swiss was by far one of the hardest ghouls to truly anger. He was very forgiving, especially with the smallest ghoul. He tended to laugh things off or talk things out right away as to not leave an argument unresolved. If the other ghoul thought about it, he had never seen Swiss even remotely angry. There were times where he seemed pissed off but never really angry.

“Are you done yet, firefly?” The nickname sounded sour on Swiss’s tongue and Dew almost visibly recoiled. But he knew better than to show a reaction. He had to be indifferent, hide that he was vunerable. But the comment had thrown him off and his brain short-circuited long enough for Swiss to finally get a word in.

“You stand here and go about your little spiel like you always do, Dew. But we both know you don’t mean it. You can curse and scream at me all you want; it won’t change a thing. There wasn’t even a real argument to begin with. You got your fragile ego hurt and now you’re foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal.”

Dewdrop growled at that. Low in his throat as his tail swished angrily behind himself. It was true, and that was what angered the fire ghoul the most. Satanas, Dew had already forgotten what the whole argument was even about. He was only arguing for the sake of getting Swiss off his tail. To hurt the multi ghoul so that he wouldn’t end up being hurt himself. The other ghoul was entirely too calm for his liking and it scared Dewdrop. It scared him that he didn’t have control of the conversation. It scared him that Swiss knew exactly what he was trying to archive. Scared him that he was so fucking vunerable in front of someone after he had sworn himself to never be open like that again. He opened his mouth to say something he knew would hurt Swiss, but the other ghoul was faster to speak.

“Do you know what I think? I think you’re getting so defensive because you know I am right. You know you don’t even mean a single thing you say to us all the time. Because you’re scared to let someone - for once in your goddamn life - into that head of yours. Because you’re so fucking scared that if you let someone in, they will tear you down from the inside. Because you know you couldn’t take that again.” Swiss’s words seemed harsh but he was calm, somewhat encouraging even.

But Dewdrop was seething where he was standing. He felt like he was vibrating with anger. His fists were balled up so tightly, he could feel the sharp claws dig into his own flesh. His fangs were clenched so tightly, he was afraid they would break off under the pressure. If he’d had just a little less self control, he would have launched himself at the multi ghoul and ripped into him with claws and teeth. Copia and the clergy be damned. They would send him back to the pit for killing another ghoul, but he couldn’t care less in that moment.

Where did the multi ghoul get the audacity to dig into Dew’s head like that? Rip him open piece be piece and present him with his own thoughts. It sent him into a frenzy.

In that moment Dewdrop felt truly lost. There was no thing he could say to Swiss to make him stop, to make him leave. Dew nearly choked on his own spit. His throat felt tight as he tried to swallow. It became apparent that the fire ghoul wasn’t the only one who knew how to hurt others deeply.

Dew bared his fangs at Swiss and hissed. It wasn’t intentional, a leftover instinct from the pit that was generally considered bad manners by the higher clergy members. Swiss stood calmly but his tail jerked once, showing that he wasn’t immune to the feral display of agression from his bandmate.

And with a last growl, Dewdrop turned on his heel and left Swiss standing in the hallway. He felt humiliated and hurt. He was never the one to leave an argument, had never lost to the others. In his mind he was thinking of a thousand things he could do to hurt Swiss. The argument might have been over, but he wouldn’t - no, couldn’t - let the multi ghoul get away with this. He had to do something that would truly and utterly destroy the taller ghoul.

He was still seething as he stumbled through the clergy hallways. A few siblings he came across had fled once they saw him. Good, he thought, at least he was still respected by the siblings. They would never dare to talk to him the way Swiss did. Would never dare to pry into his head like that. They knew they couldn’t because he would rip them to shreds if they tried. Just like how he should have done with dear Swiss, he thought angrily, his fists clenched again.

He marched through the hallways for a little longer before something caught his eyes. And suddenly it felt like he was presented with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity sent by the hellish father lucifer himself.

You.

How had Dewdrop not thought of that before? Swiss’s little romance he had going on with you. It was still fresh, long months of ‘will-they-won’t-they’ finally turned into little kisses and shared nights. And that turned into actual feelings. Swiss had never officially told you how he felt, Dew knew that, but he could smell it on the multi ghoul. And he could smell it on you too. With renewed vigor (and anger) he walked up to you.

Should he grab you and hurt you? Should he leave your body bloodied with bitemarks and drag you back into the ghoul den? The smell of your blood would be so overwhelming it would surely sent the multi ghoul into overdrive. A perverted satisfaction spread through Dew’s body at the thought. The satisfaction of truly hurting Swiss in the most horrible way he could. To finally make the multi ghoul snap. Because with anger Dew could work. Anger he knew how to handle. But no, he thought. That was too risky. It would get him a ticket straight back to hell from the clergy. And it wouldn’t hurt enough. Wouldn’t dig deeply enough into Swiss’ heart.

It was like a light went off above the fire ghoul’s head as you turned around, smiling at him as he approaced you. He tried to keep his face stoic, to not let a toothy smile shine through as he finally decided how to wreck Swiss.

“Dewdrop.”, you said warmly, “Is there something I can do for you?”

“No. I just wanted to check in how you were.”, he said, feigning worry.

“Oh um.. thank you, I am fine- why? Is there something I should be worried about?”, you asked confused.

“I just thought after the whole thing with Swiss... y’know. That you might be hurt...” Oh satanas, it felt so incredibly good. Dewdrops eyes nearly rolled back into his skull as you very clearly took the bait.

“What thing with Swiss? Did something happen?” you were starting to grow worried and Dewdrop nearly laughed at how pathetic it was.

“Oh no... he didn’t tell you yet, then. I’m sorry, I just thought he would have told you by now. Seeing how you two are pretty serious now I assumed he did tell you.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “But I guess he will tell you when he’s ready.... I just hope that’s soon - wouldn’t want you to get into a relationship with him under false pretences, right?”

You eyes grew wide with confusion and worry and as Dewdrop decided to slowly turn around and act as if he was going to leave, you quickly grabbed his arm to make him stay.

“Please.” you breathed out “What is going on? What do you mean with ‘false pretences’?”

“It’s not my place to tell you. He should tell you himself. It is a pretty big thing after all.” Dewdrop knew he already had you. He was only trying to make this even worse once shit hit the fan. He had to make sure you would talk to Swiss about it, maybe even end things with him. Oh satanas, how priceless the look on his face would be. He’d deserve it.

“I’m begging you to please tell me what you mean.”, you anxiously begged the fire ghoul who sighed in return as if he was doing this against his will.

“I thought he trusted you enough to tell you himself but maybe he doesn’t quite yet. It’s only understandable given his past, of course.” You were eating everything up Dewdrop was saying. And the best thing was, he didn’t even need to lie. Didn’t need to make things up about the multi ghoul because it was all true. Dewdrop leaned against the wall next to him before starting;

“Swiss wasn’t actually summoned with the rest of the ghouls. Not many people know this because he worked in the shadows most of the time. I just saw him occasionally while I was still working with Terzo.” The words tasted bitter in his mouth. The hurt still there, still fresh. “He didn’t eat with the other ghouls, didn’t spend time with the other ghouls. It was like he was kept away from the rest of the clergy at all times. I always wondered what his job was. There are no ghouls in the clergy that serve no purpose, so I was curious. I, myself, only got to know the truth recently.”

It was true. Dew thought back to the evening that Swiss had confessed. He had never seen him cry like that before. Had always assumed Swiss had no baggage, no hurt inside of him. But that evening, Swiss had sobbed as he told his mates about his jobs before the band. Explained how he had done the dirty work, had killed siblings and ghouls alike. Without ever questioning anything. How he had been the perfect killer all along. The other ghouls had been taken aback and the following days - even if they didn’t mean to - they had avoided Swiss. Those days had wrecked the multi ghoul horribly, to the point where he didn’t leave his room, not even to eat.

In the end they managed to talk things out. Nobody was truly mad at Swiss or scared of him. For fucks sake, they all were ghouls. They had all killed before. They just hadn’t expected something like this from chill, laidback Swiss. Swiss hadn’t asked them to keep it a secret but given his reaction the first time he confessed, it was pretty clear he didn’t want anyone else to know. This is why Dew knew his plan would work. He knew it would absolutely obliterate Swiss to be confronted with this part of his past again, especially if it came from you.

“Well it seems-... oh, I really don’t know if I should tell you this. You’re gonna be hurt.”, Dew tried to sow worries and it worked. “I need to know.”, came from you in almost a whisper.

“Well, there were certain ghouls that... did the clergy’s dirty work. I mean, it only makes sense to summon ghouls to do it, don’t get me wrong. And it just so happened to be our dear Swiss.”

“Dirty work?”, you asked, more in disbelieve than in not-understanding.

“Getting rid of unwanted people. Outside and inside the clergy. The perfect killer. Ghouls leave no traces behind as you know. Swiss does have some chompers on him, I will not lie...”

You gasped and Dew watched carefully as you stared in disbelieve. “But don’t worry. He would never hurt you!” Dew hesitated for a bit. “Probably, anyways. What do they say again; you can take the ghoul out of hell but you can’t take hell out of the ghoul?” He faked a laugh at the lame joke. A real smile crept on his lips as he watched you stare into space with furrowed brows, clearly worried about what you had just learned about your lover.

Dew knew he had to make the finale count, so he faked a worried face as he gently grabbed your shoulder. “I do need you to be careful though. Swiss was dangerous in the past, following orders blindly just because he was told to. He killed ghouls and siblings, some of which he worked with. He had no morales. I’m just confused that he hasn’t told you about this yet... I’m worried about what that means. He is a ghoul. You can’t forget that. A demon from the pit, summoned to fulfill a task.” Dewdrop stood taller as his hand fell off your shoulder. “He’s in the band now but we can’t be sure he isn’t still following some of his former orders.” That was the only lie. Swiss had promised that he had been released from that position ages ago, had sworn to his mates that he was telling the truth. And Dew knew it had been the truth... but you didn’t need to know that.

The guitarist left you standing in the hallways, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears of disbelief and sadness.

That evening Dewdrop sat in the common room. He listened to the muffled voices behind Swiss’ bedroom door. You two had been talking - arguing - for close to two hours. Dew was the only one left sitting there, all the other ghouls had left at one point, the atmosphere in the den too suffocating to bear.

When you had stumbled into their den a few hours ago, your energy had immidiately alerted all the ghouls. They had raised their heads as they watched you walk into the common area. Swiss was the first to approach you - of course he was. The energy you gave off must’ve been excruciating for the multi ghoul. The fire ghoul still felt the anger deep in his chest, barely any less than before. He wasn’t like Swiss, he didn’t forgive that easily. And Swiss deserved this. Deserved to be hurt just how Dewdrop had been hurt.

The multi ghoul knew something was off, so he lead you into his room without a word. You hesitated for a bit, worried. And Dew almost smirked as he watched you stand in the doorway of Swiss’ room. You looked back over your shoulder to the small ghoul.

You entered your lover’s room, closing the door behind yourself gently. The multi ghoul approached you slowly, gently reaching for your hands, encouraging you to tell him what was wrong. But as his hands brushed yours, a jolt rushed through you. Not a jolt of excitement, lust or happiness. No, this felt different. This was fear.

Hurt flashed across Swiss’s face as you moved your hands away from his reaching ones. And as you took a step back to increase the distance between your bodies, he felt like he would die right then and there.

“What’s going on, sweet cheeks?”, the taller ghoul asked, concern lacing his soft voice.

You didn’t speak for a second. Your head hung low, facing the floor, but Swiss could see the lines between your brows nontheless. His stomach twisted itself in knots as he just observed you for a second. Your hands were fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and your posture was defensive, closed-off. And the way you smelled - it felt like a punch to the gut to Swiss. Fear, concern, worry, hurt.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong right now, but is there anything I can do to help y-” - “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Swiss was the one to take a step back this time. “What do you mean?”

“I deserved to know!” You raised your head and there were tears in your eyes. Not yet spilled but they were there and Swiss felt helpless.

“What are you talking about? Did I do something? Did you change your mind about... us?”

“No! I mean yes- no... I just-”, you stumbled through the words clumsily, not even knowing what exactly you were trying to say.

“When were you going to tell me you killed for the clergy?”

Swiss felt the breath being knocked out of him, his heart stopped for a second, a searing pain rushing through his chest before the organ stumbled into a rushed rhythm. His mouth hung open, his ears ringing. It was like his worst nightmare came true, and it was happening right now in front of him. He watched as the first tears fell and you whispered “So it’s true.”. The multi ghoul felt like he needed to throw up, his chest heaving and his tail erratic behind him.

Your eyes truly took him in then; The claws at his sides, the tail behind him, the grey skin, the tiniest peek of his fangs, the sharp ears and the golden eyes that shone through the slits of the silver mask. Those hands - those claws - that had caressed you many nights, had softly ran through your hair or across your skin, were the same ones that had the blood of so many people on them. His teeth, usually nipping you gently, had ripped out throats and limbs before. Had hurt and killed. murdered.

You swallowed thickly as a new wave of fear rushed through you. What were you doing? In the room alone with a killer and confronting him about it? If the things Dewdrop had said were true, then there was no way of knowing that he wouldn’t do it again. Your investigation in the library about those ‘special ghouls’ just before you got here, didn’t help either.

Swiss felt the instant shift from hurt to fear in you. He felt it deeply in his body and it itched at his insides. Satanas, he wanted to claw at himself, get rid of that feeling, rip it out from his insides.

He only recently had told the other ghouls about his past and the days following had been excruciating for him. It had created a rift in their relationship for a while. And even though everything seemed alright now, he knew they still thought about it from time to time. But they had been understanding, because they were also ghouls, because they had done similar things. He couldn’t expect the same understanding from you. A human.

Swiss watched your form shake as you cried silently and in that moment he wanted to die. He wanted to rush to Copias office and have himself be sent back to hell. Either by ritual or by a dagger to the heart.

As he started speaking, his own tears fell, his body rocking with sobs as he watched his relationship crumble in front of him.

Dew had felt a sick satisfaction as he listened carefully to what was being said. The two of you weren’t screaming at each other but the door did little to stop the fire ghoul from listening in on the conversation. The other ghouls sat strewn around the common room. Their own conversations had died down shortly after the smell of fear, hurt and sadness had crept through the cracks of the door.

The longer the argument went on the more suffocating the energy in the ghoul den got. Mountain had been the first to leave, excusing himself to his greenhouse to escape the all-consuming smell of a multi ghoul in distress. The girls had left together without a word. They didn’t need to say anything. Everyone knew.

One after another the rest of the ghouls left the den as the sounds of sobs grew louder from the bedroom. Phantom had scurried after the girls. Being a quintessence ghoul meant he felt everything even harsher than the other ghouls. And he couldn’t take it. Rain took his leave a little later after he couldn’t bear hearing Swiss cry anymore. It hurt too badly to stay.

The anger Dew had felt until just minutes ago was almost non-existent now. Instead, the ugly grasps of guilt had a tright grip on him, threatening to pull him under and drown him in it. He tried to tell himself that Swiss deserved it. That he didn’t do anything wrong. You did deserve to know what Swiss was, after all. But Dew knew it had not been his place to tell you. And not in the way he did. Using you to get a reaction out of Swiss. To manipulate you into thinking a certain way about the multi ghoul. His chest felt heavy with guilt, suffocating him from the inside.

He didn’t blame the other ghouls for leaving the den. The atmosphere was devastating. The smell of distress thick in the air. This was even worse than when Swiss had come clean with them a few weeks prior. And suddenly Dew wasn’t so sure what this would do to Swiss. He had been a wreck last time, there was no way of knowing what would happen this time.

Aether was the last to leave. He sighed as he got up from the sofa, turning to leave the den like the others had before turning back to Dewdrop with a snarl. It was so entirely unlike Aether, that Dew felt himself recoil at the gesture.

“You told them, didn’t you?”, he asked, disappointment in his eyes. Dew didn’t say anything but that was answer enough for the quintessence ghoul.

“You’ve said fucked up things before, Dewdrop. But this was a real low blow, even for you.”

And with that, Aether left the den without looking back at the fire ghoul still sitting on the couch. Dew’s own eyes stung with tears as he felt everything he had done crashing down on him. The tears didn’t fall though, because before they could, the door to Swiss’s room opened.

Your still crying form walked through the door and into the direction of the den’s exit. Swiss followed slowly, not daring to be too close to you. He stopped in the middle of the common room and watched with heavy sobs as you closed the door behind yourself. His eyes were transfixed on the door as if he was waiting for you to open it again. Open it and run back to him, leap into his arms and hug him, kiss him. Telling him everything was going to be alright.

But the door never opened.

Swiss turned to Dewdrop and when their eyes met, the fire ghoul felt like he was being pulled down into the pit. He had never, not even then, seen Swiss like this. Completely and utterly gone. Dew waited for Swiss to snap at him. To launch himself at the smaller ghoul and rip him to pieces. He wouldn’t have fighted back, he would’ve let it happen. He knew what he did was not excusable.

But the attack never came. Instead there was a shaky breath from the multi ghoul as he mustered up a bitter smile. “I hope you got what you wanted, firefly.”

He left the den as well. Where to, Dew didn’t know.

But the feeling in his stomach was so incredibly painful, he didn’t dare to move off the couch. And Dew had never hated himself more than in that moment.

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golden-rats · 1 year

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If you had life eternal

Turning emotions into fics. This time, Copias thoughts about Terzos death.

Words: 1k

Warnings: Dealing with death of a loved one

Tags: Loss, grieving, hurt/no comfort

Can also be read on AO3 here

Terzo was gone.

Copia was struggling to come to terms with the enormity of his loss. He felt helpless. Didn't know what to do. How to stop crying. How to stop this grieving. It was near unbearable. His chest getting tight. So tight Copia feared it would crush his aching heart and struggling lungs. Every new sob rolling through his body. Shaking his shoulders.

The newly elected Papa tried to fill the void with work, with the ghouls and siblings of sin, with anything that might distract him from the crushing weight of his sadness. But nothing seemed to help. The world felt darker, colder, more unforgiving without his tesorino by his side.

And so he sat there, in the quiet of his room. It was dimly lit, with only a faint glow coming from the bedside lamp. Copia sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Hair a mess. Wearing his dark red track suit. It was wrinkly and stained. Unable to take proper care of himself lately. He had been sitting there for hours. Lost in a sea of sadness and despair. Consumed by the weight of his grief.

The future seemed bleak, uncertain, and he couldn't imagine ever feeling whole again.

As so often these past days, his mind was filled with memories of Terzo - his smile, his laugh, the gentle touch of his hand, the way he used his words to subtly, and sometimes not so subtly, flirt. All of it felt like a cruel tease, a reminder of what he had lost. He couldn't believe that he was gone, that he would never be able to see him again or hold him in his arms. Or being held by him.

As the night wore on, his emotions began to overwhelm him. He collapsed onto the floor, his body heaving with sobs. He cried out his name over and over again, his grief echoing through the empty room. Every moment felt empty, every space that was once filled with love and laughter now felt hollow and cold. The silence throughout the day was deafening, a constant reminder of the absence of the one person who meant everything to him. No doubt another Papa or some of the ghouls could hear him right now. But that was the least of his concerns at this point.

The tears flowed freely down his face, leaving wet trails on his cheeks. Smearing the paint he didn't wash off yet. Couldn't find the strength to get up and do it. With every glimpse into the mirror, he saw him. Staring back with mismatched eyes. Though, this time they were cold. Copia was almost surprised there were any tears left, with how many of them escaped him prior to this new breakdown. He clutched at his chest, feeling the emptiness where his heart used to be. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he couldn't imagine ever feeling anything else again. A constant ache in the pit of his stomach that refused to go away.

Every day felt like an eternity, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that it was all a terrible nightmare, a cruel joke that he would wake up from any moment. But deep down, he knew that it was real. Terzo was gone, and with him went a piece of his heart that he knew would never be fully restored.

For what felt like hours, he laid there on the floor, crying and screaming and mourning the loss of the man he loved.

At one point, Primo wandered over. Stopping outside his door in the hallway. Listening. This death affected him and his brother just the same. He knew how Copia must feel. While they didn't share a family bond, it was clear they did have a deep connection. Secondo and him accepted the cardinal into their family without question. While his younger brother was wary at first. But Terzo? He immediately took a liking to the chaotic, kind man. His antics on stage, the silly tricycle, the trail of small rats you just needed to follow if you looked for Copia.

But Primo didn't knock. Didn't disturb him. As much as he wanted to console the grieving antipope. It felt like a breach of privacy. He would come to them if he wanted to. When he was ready. Behind one corner of the hallway, the oldest brother could make out the silhouettes of a few ghouls. Huddled together, peering around said corner. Tails lowered between their legs, ears drooping low. But the retired leader only shook his head. Signaling them to retreat to their own quarters before leaving himself. A few wailing chirps could be heard while they disappeared.

Left alone with his emotions, Copia struggled to form coherent thoughts. Exhaustion tugging at his body and mind. He knew that his life would never be the same without him. The ministry wouldn't be the same. The ghouls neither. But somehow, in the midst of his grief, he found a glimmer of hope. He knew that he would carry his memory with him. Always. And that in some small way, he would always be with him. On the stage. In his songs. With their music.

Determined to continue his legacy. Not letting the memories of Terzo die that quickly. He would make sure that he lived on. That a fragment of his soul could be found in everything he created. His love would carry on and defeat the boundaries of death. It could only separate them bodily. For now.

Then, eventually, his sobs quieted and he was left with only a deep, aching sadness. And that was okay. It was a process. It will most likely happen again. Which is a good sign, no? A life that's missed means it's a life that has been loved. And Terzo was and still is loved. There is not a single doubt about that.

If they just had some more time together… Just another morning. Another kiss. Another touch.

If they had life eternal.

#Crying with copia #Terzo deserved better #Hope y'all have fun reading :)#ficlet #the band ghost #ghost #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #no beta we die like terzo

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verstarppen · 7 months

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summary; slowly but surely that fake dating plan you cooked up starts leaving its confined lines

pairing; mick schumacher x fem!reader [ no faceclaim ]

a/n; babe wake up star finally made a mick smau this demands a national celebration; title is count me in by they. because i was listening to it when this story idea appeared between my brain folds TW for mention of food poisoning and hospitals (comedic purposes) but if you're in a place where this might make you uncomfortable i strongly suggest you avoid this post and i'll see you for the lando series update tomorrow, take care

liked by georgerussell63, lewishamilton, mickschumacher and 295,953 others

ynusername favourite necklace

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georgerussell63 I so desperately wish my ability to read would disappear.

ynusername you got us in this mess now suffer the consequences georgerussell63 I didn't do shit, it's entirely on your shoulders.

mickschumacher why aren't you holding them

ynusername no hand holding before marriage please

houseofwebber if they ever break up you'll see me on the news actually

eastcoastbearman babe wake up micky/n are alive

lewishamilton Embarrassing.

ynusername just like this comment

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ynusername took the dog out for a walk

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rothgothgasly stop calling me single in 29 different languages

albonite PARENTS ARE PARENTING

julyestie maman and papa

filipe3596 Hi God it's me again

setbackhamilttel mick the type of guy to say "i don't argue with my girl she tells me to shut up and i do"

ynusername it's true mickschumacher yeah setbackhamilttel THE LEGENDS REPLY!?

liked by estebanocon, totowolff, ynusername and 890,294 others

mickschumacher visiting my favorite corpse

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ynusername EXCUSE YOU I CAN EAT SOLID FOODS NOW

mickschumacher i did that on day 4 get good ynusername sorry that my guts aren't as cool as yours mickschumacher let me rearrange them, then ynusername that was smoother than my throw up

mclandolorian HE ESCAPED

baconforza weren't you also a corpse like 2 days ago

armstrongslayer ARE THE RUMOURS ABOUT THE FAKE DATING TRUE

ynusername anything to piss george off

liked by mickschumacher, lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 201,506 others

ynusername if a doctor sees this for legal reason these are old pictures :)

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lewishamilton And to think this all could've happened sooner had you people had the balls to say what should've been said.

ynlantern just like a bowl of cereal that's been collecting dust for an hour, it's still delicious in the end innit lewishamilton All's well that ends well, I guess.

vertiddieenjoyer the only people on earth that can go on a first date after 12 months of dating

nandogoat ao3 friends to lovers, fake dating, only one bed, 294k words, alternative universe - europe, no beta we die like mick's career in haas

osc_pastry i don't think they realize how funny this is to watch from the sidelines

pic credits: instagram and pinterest

blog taglist: @coffeehurricanes @iifloweringnightsii @jsjcue @lanando4 @fastcarsandshit @christianpulisic10 (hi besties hope you're having a lovely evening and you aren't also crying about the qatar quali)

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 smau #instagram au #social media au #mick schumacher imagine

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anonimusunnoaniswriting · 12 days

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𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑴𝒚 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐

(𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

⚠️MDNI. 18+ ADULTS ONLY⚠️

🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

Rating: Mature

Category: F/M

Fandom: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler

Relationship: Sebastian Michaelis/CielsCousin!Reader

Characters: Sebastian Michaelis; Reader; Ciel Phantomhive; Elizabeth Midford

Summary: After spending the day with your cousin and his fiance, the night air makes for pleasant company, as does the butler who reveals a dark secret...

Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut; Eventual Smut; Neck Kissing; Kissing; Gentle Kissing; Surprise Kissing; Making Out; Implied Sexual Content; Phantomhive manor; Reader-Insert; Victorian

A/N: not beta read. We die like men. Again.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2: 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕭𝖚𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗; 𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

The day passed without much incident. A wall seemed to have broken down, between you and the butler after your morning rendezvous. Throughout the day, he looked after both your needs and his young master’s as well. You had spent some time with your cousin today as he hadn’t had too much on his schedule like he usually did. Breakfast, luncheon and supper were all had with the boy who kept your mind occupied with discussions on business and society. And Sebastian served you while also making sure to linger longer than necessary by your side, whether it was him pouring wine into your glass, or brushing against you while bringing you your plate. Surreptitious movements that luckily went unnoticed by your young cousin.

Lady Elizabeth joined the two of you for supper. Though she was from your side of the family you had never met the child personally. The girl had a lot of energy. She loved dressing up as was evident from her clothing. You had heard of her mother being a fearsome lady, one who could fight a tiger barehanded and win, but the daughter carried no such resemblance.

“ –And then, Mother let me make two more dresses to match with the jewellery she bought me!” You had missed the initial conversation but gleaned from the few lines that she had an affinity for fashion and clothing. It was not unlike a lady of her stature.

“Oh when I was your age, I loved getting new dresses made!” You smiled at her. “After I fell sick the first time, however, I started to dislike it a bit.” It was true. You used to have dresses made by the dozen. The seamstress saw your home more than her own shop! But your repeated illnesses have changed this. Every measurement taken anew showed how your body had changed. Warped into the form of the disease. And standing for the tape was exhausting. You found comfort in the clothing you already owned and preferred to have less made.

Elizabeth frowned. “Perhaps, Lady Phantomhive, you can come with me and we can have the tailor take your measurements too for a gown. I’m sure your mama and papa wouldn’t mind!” You blushed and shook your head. Perhaps your parents wouldn’t and even if you did have the energy to stand tomorrow, you would have to cover up the innumerable marks Sebastian left on you from your morning's tryst.

You laughed a nervous chuckle and replied, “Perhaps for the next season, I seem to have plenty of splendid dresses in my armada for the moment…”

Ciel retired to bed, soon after Elizabeth left to go back home. You sometimes forgot he was only 12 – his mannerisms far beyond his age. You walked out to the balcony. The garden was painted silver in the moonlight. Despite being quite clumsy, Finnian did a good job of maintaining it you thought to yourself.

“After all I did today to make sure you didn’t catch a cold, my lady, here you are inviting it yourself.” Sebastian’s voice came from behind, startling you. You turned your head to look as he emerged from the shadows draping a warm cloak over your shoulders. “Would you like to go for a walk my lady?” he asked. Once again, you thought you saw a flash of red in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as you took another glance. You nodded at him.

Sebastian took your hand and in one swift cat-like movement you found yourself in his arms flying through the air. You clung to his shoulders the night air whipping through your hair and biting at your cheeks. “Sebastian! Where are we going!” But the whistling of the wind drowned out your words.

When he finally landed, you looked around you, the garden was far, This was a denser shrubbery, almost like the maze Finnian so religiously took care to grow. “Should you be so far from the manor?” You asked him breathless, even though all you had done was be carried from one place to another. “Ciel might call for you or something.”

He shook his head. “You needn’t worry about that, my lady. The young master doesn’t wake till morning – when I wake him and I’m sure the manor will be fine without me for a bit.”

He smiles, reassuring you, and takes your hand, clasping it in his gloved ones. You begin to walk alongside him, his stride is shorter, making sure you can keep up, even in your bedroom slippers. Soon you come across a gazebo. The butler then invites you to sit and takes a seat beside you. “I do hope this isn’t too forward of me, my lady but I wish to continue where we had left off this morning.” You blush and avoid his gaze. You know that society would never approve of the relationship the two of you had. If anyone ever found out, it would bring shame to you and your family. You would be looked down upon for the longest time. “My lady?” Sebastian inquires after not hearing anything from you.

“Sebastian…” you start. But you don’t know how to form what you are feeling. “I- I-” you stutter. Then sigh. He puts his hand on your cheek and makes you look at him.

“My lady, if you want this to stop—” he begins but is cut off when you place your hand over his mouth.

“Believe me that is not what I want.” You say to him. “You are different Sebastian. I don’t get what you want. Your feelings are not of love. They aren’t for my money. And I feel you lust after me but that doesn’t come out too clearly either. I suppose, in a way, I am confused.” You get up, take a few steps forward and turn to look at him. “I have had men who have come to me for all the things I mentioned before. I have had those who might have actually loved me, those who merely wanted me as another trophy to claim, and even those who have come only to try and gain my hand in marriage but in reality who want to marry my father’s wealth. But you Sebastian, something about you is so different. I suppose it may be because you are the first man I have felt attracted to.” Your following chuckle is hesitant. “I am—afraid of you.”

Sebastian smirks. “Your way of seeing things is so intriguing my lady.” He says. “I can assure you my lady that I am not here for your money. I have no need for the material things that humans treasure so much.” He spits. “As for lusting after you; you have deduced almost correctly, but what I feel for you is more...” You don’t know when he got up, but turning to look you find Sebastian flush against your back. His eyes are red, the same red you tried to convince yourself you hadn't seen, but it was unmistakable. Your eyes widen and you try to take a step back, away from his imposing figure, only to find yourself trapped between him and the gazebo.

“You see my lady,” he continues, nose nuzzling against your neck, “Demons and humans have very little in common, but there is one thing we do share; the feeling of lust is very strong in us both. Humans can feel love. All demons can feel though; is lust. But you, you make me feel something different from just lust. Something more—burning. Is it love? I don’t know... I’ve never known that feeling.”

You don’t know what to say anymore. You should be frozen in fear, What did Sebastian mean, saying he was a demon? A murderer? Or a biblical fantasy? His lips were now on your skin, inhaling your scent, and you felt a pool of warmth in your lower belly. “D- demon? What does that even mean?” you falter.

“What I mean, my lady, is that the only reason I am here is because of a contract I have made with your dear young cousin. You should thank him for our very meeting.” He tells you.

“You mean you’re a demon. Like – from legends and stories?”

“I can assure you. I am no story” he says, planting a searing kiss on your neck. That was all it took to set you on fire. It made sense. The inhuman capabilities. The absolute perfection of his being. He was a demon! “You aren’t running from me my lady?” he asked as you melted under his touch.

“Surely, you jest Sebastian!” You say. Your voice quavers but you stand your ground.

“About what my lady?”

“About this demon nonsense!”

“I never lie to my lady.” He says. “You said yourself, there is something you find different about me.” He kisses you. “I am simply a demon, and a butler.”

***

Since you were tired from being out for so long, Sebastian swiftly carried you back to the mansion and took you to your room where there was a cup of hot chamomile tea waiting for you. He really took everything into account. There is no doubt about it in your mind now. Sebastian had to be a demon. His speed is inhuman. His eyes are reptilian, gleaming in the darkness. And then those teeth that scraped against your neck. Whatever he is, he definitely isn’t human.

As he helps you get ready for bed you realised that you didn’t mind. Sebastian may not have been a human, and he may have been a butler, but the way he made you feel surpassed all of that. “Sebastian…” You turn to him as he undresses you. You take off his coat. “I don’t care what you are.” You take off his vest. His eyes widen, and he stares at you. He can smell your arousal. Here you are half naked before him, taking off his clothes. Telling him you don’t care what he is. You want him. You feel things for him. Your scent drives him wild and he doesn’t even register you undoing his necktie and then his shirt buttons. When you try to take his shirt off and he doesn’t move to allow you to slip it off him, you suddenly think that perhaps he doesn’t want this. “I’m so sorry!” You say. “I thought you wanted this.” Sebastian finally wakes from his stupor and looks at you.

“I do want this. I just can’t believe that someone as beautiful and lovely as you truly wants something as vile and cruel as me.” He says and softly kisses your head. Then without warning he pushes you onto the bed and says, “But, my lady, who gave you the permission to take my clothes off?” He growls. The change in demeanour startles you.

“Sebas—” you start, but he does not let you finish. In a moment, his lips are upon yours. He swiftly and rips off your underclothes, while still kissing your mouth. His hands glide along the curves of your body and he holds you closer while plunging his tongue into your mouth.

He has never tasted anything like you before. He cannot fathom how in all the years he has lived he has never tasted anything like you. “I guess it’s something Phantomhives have in common eh? A taste like no other. I could feast on you all day.” He mutters half to himself.

“What–?” you ask breathlessly.

“You taste, sinful.”

He winks at you and pulls his glove off his left hand with his sharp teeth. His nails are black and on the back of his hand is a pentagram inside two circles. The outer, made of pointy diamond shapes. “My contract seal— nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about, my lady.” he says, seeing you looking at it.

Sebastian trails his hand down your stomach. His black tipped fingers enter your folds which are already moist with your arousal. Lowering his head, he nibbles on your neck. You breathe in deeply and wish he would take off his clothes to allow you to see him but he had made it pretty clear who was in charge of the taking off of the clothing. His hand playing around with you down under barely ghosted over your skin. You involuntarily bucked your hips trying to get him to touch you. The move immediately made the demon smirk and say, “Look at you, so eager to be fucked.”

You feel your cheeks heat much like your core. His words are so unexpectedly crude. “Please,” you moan, “please touch me…”

To be continued…

A/N: hahah don't hurt me. Likes and reblogs are appreciated. Comments get you kissies.

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dwritesit · 6 months

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Perseus

Summary: Dew and Ifrit tender fuck under the stars

Rating: Explicit

Tags: transmasc dewdrop, ghouls in love, FIRST KISS, FIRST TIME, size kink if you squint, not beta read we die like papa nihil, afab language for dew

Read on AO3 or Below the cut:

Dewdrop is tired. He's tired for several reasons. Tired, firstly, of being on tour. He's tired of the constant moving, the new cities, the early mornings and late nights. It's the set ups and take downs, stringing and re-stringing his bass, the ache in the joints in his hands as he plays through the songs again and again. He loves it, he adores it, but it's been three months. The last show is done and he's ready for it to be morning already so they can get on the bus and finally head back to the abbey. He misses his room, although he hasn't had a chance to truly make it his own yet - still a poor reflection of the ghoul who existed before him, but he misses it all the same.

He's so, so tired, eyes barely staying open, and yet he lets himself be pulled outside by a large, warm hand encasing his own anyways. Because there's something else he is even more tired of: whatever the hell is going on between him and Ifrit.

Dewdrop looks up at the fire ghoul as they walk, hand still engulfed in that warmth, watching his face, looking for a sign. Anything to make all their little things - their banter, the soft passes, the fire in his gut - make any sort of sense. Ifrit doesn't look at him, stares straight ahead towards the unknown destination with that small grin on his face that seemed to be permanent.

Dewdrop frowns.

It had started at the abbey. It started, truly, when Dewdrop had been summoned, before he was Dewdrop and was just some water ghoul ready for service. Ifrit had been there, waiting with a blanket to toss over Dewdrop’s naked form, and the smaller ghoul remembers feeling so, so small under that bright orange gaze. That moment turned into moments of heat and touches. The fire ghoul took Dewdrop under his wing, showed him the ropes of being human, taught him about books and language and how to glamor himself to blend in when they were out. He taught Dewdrop about love, too; something that existed in the pit, but was always just out of reach. Some demons said such a thing could only exist and thrive on the surface, where they could never hope climb to.

Dewdrop was beginning to doubt it even existed at all. He remembers how his stomach had felt when Ifrit described it, how the fire ghoul's eyes had lit up, sweet if not a little mischievous, and it felt like his whole gut was flipping upside down. How Ifrit had taken Dewdrop’s small hand into his own and pressed a chaste kiss to his knuckles, and he told Dewdrop that this is called Romance. And Dewdrop remembers it well, too well, as the first time he had ever blushed full bodied, prickling down his stomach and between his legs.

There were too many moments like that. Ifrit's hand on his back, or his lips close to his ear, or his tail wrapped around Dewdrop’s own, moments that sent heat swarming to every part of the water ghoul’s form. Moments that forced him to learn about the more intimate parts of the human body - Ifrit had jokingly offered to teach Dewdrop about that too, and Dewdrop thought he might die from how many times he jerked off to the idea of it.

But it never went any further than that. It stayed at surface level, and Dewdrop’s stomach still twists when he sees Ifrit's affections with the other ghouls. It wasn't like Dewdrop couldn’t do the same. He did with other ghouls, just not with Ifrit, and the fire ghoul never tried anything with him either.

"Where are we going?" Dewdrop asks with a yawn, the warmth around his hand threatening to make him even sleepier.

Ifrit looks at him finally, just briefly, with a glint in his orange eyes that has Dewdrop’s heart pounding, "Patience, we're almost there."

Dewdrop groans, dragging his feet. He can't stop himself from going whenever Ifrit asks. His heart tugging him forwards despite how his body yearns for his bed. They're almost out of the hotel now, small torch-like lights on the wall becoming more spaced out, the hall becoming darker as they approach the backdoors. It's cold when they step outside, the early summer sun having set and let the earth cool in the darkness. Dewdrop shivers and continues to let Ifrit lead him off the path and up a small hill.

The hotel is, seemingly, in the middle of nowhere. A small, forested town in some western part of the United States they stopped in just for the night. There are street lights in the distance disappearing from view as the two ghouls move, hidden enough so that they can stay unglamored throughout their trek. Dewdrop is happy about that, keeping up the glamor for the length of the tour had added to his exhaustion, and being himself fully felt best anyways.

Not to mention he got to see Ifrit completely Ifrit, too. Copper, human eyes turning to glowing fire, round pupils into slits, his long dark hair moving like flames around his strong chiseled face. Dewdrop watches Ifrit's tail from his half step behind the fire ghoul - it's waving back and forth contentedly, spiked at the tip, smooth from the bottom of the space down to the where the base meets his back. He wants to touch it, he wants to see their tails intertwined together again, to rub at its base and see how Ifrit might react to the sensation. He wants to kiss where it meets his skin, and to do the same where Ifrit's horns rest on his smooth forehead.

He looks away, tired of wanting.

"We're here!" Ifrit announces, just a bit too loudly for the silence of the night. Dewdrop almost crashes into the fire ghoul’s back, unaware that they were stopping.

"Here?" He asks, blinking as he takes in the surroundings. It's still dark, still cold, goosebumps forming on his skin, and there isn't much around other than being on a hill. There's grass, he supposes, and shrubs. Does Ifrit like shrubs?

Ifrit chuckles, moving behind Dewdrop and placing his hands on his shoulders. They're warm. Dewdrop can feel them through his shirt and the chill that runs down his spine is not from the light breeze.

"Look up, droplet" Ifrit says, his voice close to Dewdrop’s ears.

Dewdrop looks up obediently, and gasps.

There are so many stars.

Dewdrop must look bewildered and slack jawed because Ifrit laughs again, louder this time, "There's not much light pollution out here."

"That’s from street lights and stuff, right? And 'cuz the moon is gone?" Dewdrop remembers Ifrit teaching him about these things. Some humans think the fire ghoul isn't the smartest, but to Dewdrop, Ifrit is one of the smartest ghouls he knows.

Ifrit hums, "Yeah, since all the streetlights are back behind the hill, and it's a new moon tonight- look, that's the milky way."

Dewdrop squints, trying to get his eyes to adjust and allow more of the twinkling lights in. He has good night vision, great even, and his body is attuned to the night in general, but still needs a moment to focus. He blinks several times, new stars appearing each time he opens his eyes. And then he can see it - it's not as clear as a dark sky reserve, but it's still there. The glow of the milky way. Aether had taught Dewdrop about that one, about how they existed inside of it, the milky way was their home like earth was. It was beautiful.

"It’s beautiful," He says outloud, almost breathless.

"Right? Come here." Ifrit gently grabs Dewdrop’s elbow, pulling him down to the grass. The water ghoul hadn’t seen the taller ghoul pull out the blanket, but it was laid out for them both now to lay back on. He settles himself quickly, flat on his back, hands locked over his stomach and ankles crossed down below. There's space between them where their tails brush against each other, but Dewdrop can still feel Ifrit's unnatural heat radiating towards him. It feels good, and he wants to lean into it.

"Look there," Ifrit says, pointing up at a cluster of stars, "That’s perseus."

Dewdrop squints, it looks like… stars to him, "Where?"

"Right there, droplet," Ifrit says, Dewdrop shivers at the nickname, "Next to the big dipper."

Dewdrop knows that one, one of the first constellations he learned. He finds it quickly, but this perseus does not reveal itself to him.

"I don't see it." He whines quietly. He's cold, he's tired, and he really, really wants to scoot closer to the fire ghoul. He knows he can't, but the want is frustrating enough.

"Here" Ifrit takes Dewdrop’s hand off of his stomach and points his finger for him, trying to move it about the sky in a way that would make Dew see what he sees. Dewdrop looks at Ifrit instead, always surprised by his gentleness despite his strength. He admires it.

"You see it now?"

Dewdrop coughs, averting his eyes quickly back onto the sky, trying desperately to ignore how his hand tingles under Ifrit's, "Yeah, yeah. I see it."

He doesn't, but he likes the satisfied sigh that Ifrit lets out though. Worth the tiny lie.

They lie quietly for a while, heat continuing to radiate off of Ifrit in waves, making the cold air a bit more tolerable for the water ghoul. Dewdrop stares up at the sky, and while he doesn't know all the constellations like Ifrit and Aether, he still appreciates their beauty. The twinkle, the glow, the peacefulness in their stationary positions. Aether told him that some of those stars are gone now, but their end hasn't reached earth's eyes yet and that ghouls and humans alike on the surface would continue seeing them for billions of years before they eventually vanish. It's like lasting through history, and Dewdrop hopes he can last like that too. He hopes Ifrit will be there. All of them, and especially Ifrit.

Something bright flashes across the sky. Dewdrop sits up on his elbows, thinking he must have blinked and imagined it, but then there's another one. And another.

"Ifrit…" He says quietly, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene. Tens of shooting stars zipping through the black sea, twinkling, gleaming, dancing. Blue streaks trail behind them only to vanish just as quickly.

He can smell Ifrit's excitement, like electric sparks, smokey fuses, the rage of a bonfire. It adds to the enchantment, like Dewdrop is being engulfed in the scene around him.

"Make a wish, Dewy." Ifrit says softly.

Dewdrop nods. He doesn't dare close his eyes, but he wishes. Each star he sees flashing by he wishes upon again and again. Ifrit. I want Ifrit.

I want to hold him. I want to kiss him, I want to taste him, feel him, know him, love him.

He wishes it so hard he thinks his heart might squeeze right up and out of his throat with how it aches.

The meteor shower slowly comes to a pause, several minutes without the shooting stars passing by, and Dewdrop lays back down. His chest rises and falls like he’d expended himself through merely yearning. Wishes don't come true, he knows this.

He knew it when he first arrived. No matter how hard he wished to be better at bass, or singing, or learning choreography, the real improvement only came with practice. You can want something, but you have to reach out for it. You have to stretch until you're on your toes, and the satisfaction of achievement will be worth the ache in your muscles.

Dewdrop turns to look at Ifrit again, only to find the fire ghoul watching him, too. His eyes are still glowing, orange and fiery, dark hair billowing in the breeze. He's smiling, that heartthrob of a smile that never fails to make any human or ghoul weak in the knees - Dewdrop is glad he's already laying down. Dewdrop smiles back at him, squeezing that large hand where they are still intertwined between their bodies. It's… well…

This is called Romance.

It's romantic, Dewdrop thinks. A midnight trip out to look at the stars. It warms his belly, excites his nerves, swoops in his gut. Sadly, he wonders if that had been in Ifrit's plan, or if Dewdrop was just an eager, willing target of his night owl habits (something that always perplexed the water ghoul because fire always rose with the sun).

There's another squeeze, Ifrit's hand tightening around his own in response, that smile growing as he gleams in the starlight.

"You look beautiful," Ifrit says.

Dewdrop sputters. Nice.

"I'm just… in my sleep clothes, Frit." Dewdrop replies, pressing the backs of his hands to his hot cheeks.

Ifrit chuckles, "Still beautiful. Your scales are glowing."

And then Ifrit takes Dewdrop’s hands off his face and replaces them with his own. His large thumb swipes across Dew's cheek bone, right where a few pale blue scales decorated his face. He doesn't know what to do. He wants to lean into Ifrit's hands, to let their size and heat engulf him. He wants to kiss those calloused palms, wants to worship the fire ghoul from the tips of his fingers down to each strand of hair on his head. He stays still, staring. Absorbing Ifrit's gaze locked into his own.

"What are you thinking about, waterlily?" Ifrit asks, smile quirking to the side.

You have to reach for it.

"You." Dewdrop replies, stomach swarming with the thrill. He swears a dark blush spreads across Ifrit's cool, brown skin.

He takes it as a sign, and he continues, "You're like a shooting star."

It feels weird to confess it, but it's a thought he has regularly. When he watches Ifrit on stage, playing with everything he is, he's dazzling. Dew swears he can see that blue trail following behind the fire ghoul as he prowls around the stage - lighting up everything and everyone around him.

Ifrit's smile falls, but it's not in upset, his eyelids fall halfway with it, and those pupils focus on Dewdrop’s lips. The buzz, the thrill, in Dewdrop’s stomach grows as Ifrit's eyes flick back up to his, then down again. He's never seen the fire ghoul hesitate like this before, but he knows it now. Ifrit wants to kiss him, too.

Ifrit wants to kiss him. And he's not.

Before Dewdrop can stop himself, because he wants to kiss Ifrit so badly that it hurts, and he's so, so tired of waiting, he says,

"Kiss me already."

And Ifrit moves in response. He keeps Dewdrop’s face in his hands, pulls them closer together until their noses are touching. Dew watches as Ifrit's eyes slip closed entirely, brushing his broad nose against Dew's softly, breathing him in, and exhaling against Dewdrop’s mouth.

Dewdrop closes his eyes too, and nuzzles Ifrit back. Soft nudges along the side of Ifrit's nose and the spots where the rise meets his cheeks, their lips only brushing against each other - only until he can't take it any longer.

"Please," he breathes against Ifrit's mouth.

Ifrit pushes forward, hot lips colliding with Dew's cool lips, slotting together in a way that Dewdrop can only describe as perfect. Ifrit tastes like he smells, like sparks on Dewdrop’s tongue as Ifrit's makes its way into his mouth, sliding against him and sharing his heat.

Ifrit's hands leave Dewdrop’s face, one to hold him up as he moves to lean over the water ghoul - the other grasps at Dewdrop’s hip, tight and wanting. Dew grabs at Ifrit's shoulders, pulling him closer to his body until Ifrit is nearly on top of him. He's warm now, covered in the fire ghoul. Ifrit keeps kissing him, deeper, slower, and sucks Dew's bottom lip in his mouth, sinking his teeth in just enough to sting and make the water ghoul gasp with it.

He pulls back, settles himself on his knees, one on each side of Dew's body, hands planted in the earth by his head. A smile forms on his face again, a grin, he's giddy. Dewdrop feels giddy too.

"I've been wanting to do that forever," Ifrit confesses.

Dewdrop’s stomach swoops, his tail thumps heavily on the ground beside him.

"Me too," He replies, winding his arms up and back around Ifrit's neck to bring him back down to his mouth. The kiss is slow, long and lingering. Like they can't get enough, like air is nothing to them as long as they're locked together like this. Dewdrop feels his body come alive, thrumming with energy that he doesn't know what to do with. He's been with other ghouls, but this feels different. It's tender, not just getting off.

He leans back, putting space between their faces again. Ifrit stares down at him with those pretty, half-lidded eyes, lips a rich color and wet with spit. It makes Dewdrop giggle. Seeing the confident, cocky, witty and strong fire ghoul so… open.

"What?" Ifrit asks, breathing a bit heavier, smiling down at the water ghoul from his perch. Dewdrop bites his lip, and reaches his hand up to place it on Ifrit's cheek. The fire ghoul leans into it. Purrs rumble through the sound of crickets from both of them.

Instead of answering, Dew kisses him again, just his cheeks and his nose and the place where his horns meet his skin. He peppers the corner of his lips, his cheekbones, the curve of his jaw. He does this until Ifrit grows impatient and gently pushes him back down again. Then, its the fire ghoul’s turn to kiss, to cover Dewdrop in his lips.

It starts slow, just like Dew had done to him. Warm lips on his forehead, under his horns, trailing to his cheekbones, his eyelids that flutter closed, his nose, a chaste kiss on his mouth, moving to his jaw. Ifrit moves lower, kisses turning open mouthed and hot as he makes a path down Dewdrop’s neck, leaving love bites behind that makes the water ghoul gasp and want. Dew feels himself getting wet inside his pajama pants. He can smell the smoky arousal from Ifrit as well.

Dewdrop arcs up towards Ifrit, lifting his knee and trying to press it to the fire ghoul’s groin to hopefully get his point across. Ifrit chuckles against his neck, and holds himself up on one arm so the other can trail down Dewdrop’s body. Passing over his nipples that makes him keen, down his navel, and dipping into his pants. Dew is bucking into the touch before Ifrit's large hand has even properly touched him.

"Patience," Ifrit chides. He presses a few more kisses to the marks he's left on Dew’s neck before raising his head so they're eye to eye again.

"Need you now," Dewdrop whines, reaching down to encourage Ifrit's hand. Ifrit's hand leaves his pants instead, to push his out of the way gently.

Ifrit kisses him again, distracting as he pulls both of Dew's hands above his head, pinning them there on the blanket with just one of his own. Then, he finally reaches back down again, tugging Dewdrop’s pants just enough to expose his soaked core to the air for easy access.

"We have all the time in the world. I want to show you how I feel about you, droplet," Ifrit says against his lips, just as he slides two fingers down the water ghoul’s slit, dipping into his folds. His warm fingers are a stark contrast to Dewdrop’s naturally cool slick, and he collects it on his finger tips before circling Dew's clit.

"I've wanted you for so long, Dewdrop," Ifrit continues his ministrations as he speaks, and Dew can't control the symphony of moans escaping his throat, "You're so beautiful, and talented. Perfect."

"Ifrit," Dewdrop breathes shakily, eyes rolling back as one large finger slowly slides into his hole. They're so much larger than his own, so much warmer. Ifrit continues working him open, pressing in another finger, petting his walls and gently scissoring them. Dew gasps, and Ifrit swallows them up with his mouth.

"I-" Dew whines loudly as Ifrit's fingers hit the right spot, "There's so many times I- fuck - that I wanted to kiss you."

Ifrit groans, pistoning his fingers faster.

"Need you please, inside me," Dew begs, one shaky hand coming up to grab at Ifrit's sweats. He can see the fire ghoul through them, tenting the pants with a small wet spot. He isn't wearing underwear, obviously, and Dew wonders if Ifrit knew they would end up like this.

"Anything for you, my waterlily,"

There's an essence of reluctance as Ifrit's fingers slowly leave him. Dew feels his slick drip down his ass as he clenches around nothing, his body ready for more. Ifrit presses another kiss to Dewdrop’s forehead, lingering there as he begins to wrestle his sweats off. It's sweet and sends pleasure zipping down Dew's spine.

Finally, their clothes are kicked off, both eternally grateful for the remote location and for the long nights. Dewdrop shivers in the cold air, his body completely exposed to the fire ghoul now.

"Look at you…" Ifrit says breathlessly, his eyes trailing Dew's entire form. He shifts them both, holding Dewdrop’s hips, until Dew is seated more or less on his lap, knees on each side of the fire ghoul’s thighs. A large hand lands softly on Dew’s cheek and he leans into it, purring loudly, tail swinging around until it wraps around Ifrit's waist - Ifrit's tail does the same to Dew. The hand trails down lower, one extended claw tracing the tendons in Dewdrop’s neck, his clavicle, his breast where his nipples have peaked from the chill.

Ifrit smiles when Dew arcs into it again, swiping his full thumb over his nipple and pinching it just enough to make Dew cry out, "Pretty boy." He says.

Dewdrop flushes, "I'm not…"

"You are," Ifrit says again, "Such a pretty boy."

Dew surges forward to kiss the fire ghoul again, turning it hungry and desperate quickly, and he can feel Ifrit's hard cock pressing on his stomach as he tries to get as close to him as he can. He pulls back so he can see it fully, a trail of saliva connecting their lips. Ifrit licks it off of Dewdrop’s chin, but the water ghoul is too busy staring between them.

"Frit," he says quietly. Ifrit's cock is big. It's tanned and an angry red at the tip, looking uncomfortably hard, and it's thick; veined and bigger than any of Dewdrop’s toys he had used in the past while thinking about the fire ghoul.

"Biggest one you've seen?" Ifrit asks, a smirk gracing his lips as Dew looks up again to meet his eyes.

Dewdrop smiles at him, he considers telling him that, no, Mountain is frankly much larger. He enjoys poking fun at Ifrit, teasing was a part of their routine, but he feels like stroking Ifrit's ego, wants the fire ghoul to feel just as perfect as he is. He knows Ifrit will think about it later if he tells him otherwise, the insecurities that Dew thinks maybe only he knows about that lie beneath Ifrit's cocky exterior.

"It’s perfect," He says, "I want to feel it inside me."

"Fuck, Dew," Ifrit moans. He reaches a hand between him to stroke his shaft slowly, though it looks like it might pop at any second.

Dewdrop shifts, lifting himself higher on his knees and holding Ifrit's cock in his hand. It's hot, and that makes the need worse as he presses the tip against his hole.

"Frit," He gasps, there's still a pleasant stretch despite Ifrit having worked him open. It's so warm, so big, as Dew slowly sinks down until he's fully seated in the fire ghoul’s lap again. Dewdrop’s shivers at the temperature difference, and the way Ifrit seems to reach every place inside of him, even spots he didn't know about. He feels tiny as Ifrit's hands rest on his hip, nearly covering the span of his body just like that.

"Ifrit," he says again, it's nearly a sob. He's never felt so full, so complete.

Ifrit's lips are on his again as he slowly starts moving up, and dropping back down again. Ifrit moans into his mouth, grip tightening on his hips, now using the strength to raise the water ghoul up higher this time, dropping him back down. It hits the sweet spot inside Dew, and he begs Ifrit to so again. So he does, and again, until Dewdrop is all punched out moans, unable to keep kissing Ifrit as his eyes roll back from the pleasure.

"Come on, pretty boy," Ifrit hisses out between his teeth as he moves Dew faster, using his body how he pleases. Dew clenches around him, tightening his grip on his shoulders.

"I wanna come with you," Dew says. He's vaguely aware that his cheeks are wet, but he feels too good to be embarrassed.

"Together, baby," Ifrit agrees, "Fuck, I love you, droplet."

And that makes Dewdrop cry out, "I love you, I love you, Ifrit. Please, please"

He's not sure what he's begging for anymore. To finish, to never stop, to be with Ifrit forever. Stars begin dancing across the sky again, but the two ghouls are too absorbed in each other to notice. Both wishing for this to be forever.

Dewdrop feels his abdomen tighten, he keeps saying I love you I love you I love you. And Ifrit keeps saying it back between kisses, fucking into the water ghoul in earnest now.

"Yes, Ifrit, there-" Dew's voice is cut off by the strength of his orgasm, his whole body shaking as he feels the fire ghoul release into him too, like molten lava covering his insides. It feels so good. He collapses on Ifrit's chest, both breathing heavily, coming down from the high of it.

Ifrit laughs breathlessly, Dewdrop does too. They're both purring, kissing wherever they can reach. Ifrit brushes Dewdrop’s dark hair out of his eyes, tucking some behind his ear and smiles at him brightly. Dew can see the stars reflecting in his eyes, gorgeous.

"Why didn't we do that sooner?" He asks, still with a little laugh.

Ifrit shakes his head, leaning back and gasping as he sees the sky again. Dew does the same, keeping himself pressed tight against his fire ghoul as they watch the last of the meteor shower zip by overhead.

He doesn't wish this time. He's got everything he could ever ask for purring under his finger tips.

#trans dew #transmasculine dewdrop #dewfrit #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #ifrit ghoul #dew x ifrit #ghoul fics #dwritesit

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emeritus-fuckers · 3 months

Text

Call me your master ⸸ TerzOmega smut series (1/7)

CW: porn, obviously. no beta, we die like the papas in 2018. rat did not read this the second time before copying and pasting it. public sex (in the hallway). blood. biting.

i. tonight our bodies getting intertwined it’s fucking filthy feeding off the blood inside

Terzo would be the first to admit he was enjoying these…encounters becoming far more frequent far too much. The cardinal smirking up at the large ghoul teasingly.

“If I didn’t know any better, dear ghoul, I would think you liked me.”

Omega merely glanced down at the man, eyes as calm as they usually were. Perhaps the Cardinal was right. Maybe he was growing fond of him over time. After all, he was the one he would always keep coming back to. They were always there, the brother of the man who summoned him…

But for now, he was still too stubborn and prideful to even think about admitting that. For now, he’d just stay quiet, like he always would around anyone else.

“Good thing you know better, then.” He hummed.

They rolled their mismatched eyes, pulling the much larger ghoul down by his robes. Staring into his eyes as a challenge as he traced over that enticingly large chest.

“Always so cold to me…why don’t you wear less? It’s not as if Secondo would really mind…”

“I can’t really change my uniform just for you, now can I, Cardinal?”

Omega growled quietly, not really as a threat or a warning. More just for the sake of it, and he had a feeling Terzo would know that by now. If they didn’t, it wasn’t really his problem.

“If you’re so eager about less clothing… How about I modify your outfit a bit, hm?”

The cardinal got a dangerous grin on his face at the suggestion. Staring at Omega as a tearing sound came from the chest of the ghoul’s uniform. The completely innocent cardinal holding the knife that just cut through the thick robes.

“Since we’re modifying outfits…yours could use a nice view of your chest and cock.”

“Charming. Allow me to show you how it’s really done, yeah?”

Within seconds, Terzo’s red cassock was on the ground, torn to shreds.

“No underwear, huh? Really wanna get stuffed that bad?”

Terzo blinked a few times as he processed what just happened. Quickly regaining his attitude as the cocky smirk reappeared. Winking at Omega playfully.

“Well, I thought you would appreciate…easy access if we ended up in the confessional booth again.”

“And who’s to say I won’t rail you right here in this hallway, hm? Since you just can’t wait, from what I can smell.”

Omega was eager as well, of course, but he had slightly more control over his body. While his cock was hardening, his robes (or what remained of them, at the very least) still managed to cover it for now. Terzo, on the other hand, was already completely naked, their arousal hitting the ghoul’s nostrils. He knew just how badly the Cardinal wanted to be filled with him again.

And who was he to deny him that?

Terzo huffed as he watched the ghoul, leaning against the wall as he trailed a hand downwards on his body. Sliding two fingers into their cunt as they got that cocky smirk right back. Moaning lowly.

“Well, get to it then. I don’t have all day…perhaps if you’re too old and slow, Alpha could help me…”

“Watch it.”

This time, Omega’s growl was a genuine threat as he easily gripped both Terzo’s wrists, holding them above his head, pinned to the wall. While bending down to the Cardinal’s level wasn’t too comfortable, the situation really seemed to call for it. And so his face was right in front of Terzo’s, his free hand holding the man’s chin.

“We don’t wanna end up in a wheelchair because I decided not to be careful this time, now do we?”

Terzo grinned widely as he stared at Omega, bringing a leg up to grind it against his cock. Tilting his head to one side as he chuckled lowly.

“What do we have here..? You call me the excited one...yet there seems to be something quite hard right here.”

“Wanna compare the excitement, sweet thing?”

Omega hummed, using his belt to tie Terzo’s arms behind his back so he could keep holding his chin, making sure those pretty eyes were on him while he squeezed their cunt almost painfully before quickly slipping in two fingers.

“You’re dripping, Cardinal.”

Terzo gasped out a moan as Omega squeezed their cunt, his eyes fluttering shut a minute as he opened his legs wider. Biting his bottom lip hard as he only got wetter. Opening his eyes again with a pout.

“Such a tease…”

“Aww, you don’t like it? Maybe I should let Alpha have you while I look for someone who won’t start sobbing before I even start moving inside them, huh?”

Omega let out the quietest chuckle, almost purring at their expression. It was his favorite thing about him. He was so expressive, so adorably wreckable. Just for this expression, just for those pretty eyes, he knew he’d keep coming back.

“Well? You might wanna make up your mind fast, Cardinal. I don’t have all day.”

Despite his words, the pace he started to move his fingers was dreadfully slow, just so he could hear them beg again. One of his favorite sounds, really.

Terzo whined quietly at the slow pace, looking desperately at the ghoul. Trying to grind down onto his fingers as he attempted to bite him. Growling in frustration.

“Fuck…would you please pick up the paceand get your fucking cock out?!”

“So impatient… Is my dick the only thing you always think about?”

Omega teased, mimicking Terzo’s out pout before taking his fingers away.

“You know what you gotta do to get what you want, pretty boy.”

Terzo groaned in protest as he removed his fingers. Growling as he glared at Omega. The cardinal contemplating kneeing him in the dick.

“Pretty please give me your gigantic cock master.”

He pleaded, still glaring at the cruel ghoul like he just ate his kitten.

“That’s better… Against the wall or on the floor, hm?”

He managed to lean in even closer, even if his spine wasn’t too happy about it. Omega’s lips were now almost touching Terzo’s, but the Cardinal knew at this point that if he tried to steal a kiss, Omega would simply leave him there like that. Just to be a dick. Because apparently already having a huge one in his pants wasn’t enough sometimes.

“Come on. Tell your master how you want it, little slut.”

“On the floor…with your teeth in my shoulder.”

Terzo growled, staring at the ghoul as he only waited. Slick dripped down his thighs as he waited. About ready to try getting free to climb the tree in front of him.

Omega grinned, lips crashing into Terzo’s much softer ones. He always liked kissing them, but would rather die than admit it, being the stubborn ghoul that he was. And once he was happy with the kiss, he would rail them. The kiss was, on one hand, a sign of affection, and on the other, a final warning to Terzo to get prepared.

“You’re lucky I love your blood, Cardinal.”

Terzo hummed into the kiss, sneaking his tongue into his mouth. Pressing against the ghoul as much as possible as he stole the breath from the ghoul’s lungs. Chuckling softly at his words.

“Someone is getting addicted to me…maybe I should cut my hand to summon you to me.”

“You better pray I’m not around on your period, pretty boy.”

He growled softly again, pushing Terzo to lay down on the floor, the Cardinal’s cheek pressed against the cold floor as Omega lifted their hips, carefully pushing his cock in, knowing damn well the youngest Emeritus brother didn’t need preparation for him, considering all this personal sex toys were rumored to be modeled after Omega.

Terzo wasn’t quiet at all. The cardinal moaning like a whore (that he was) as he laid on the floor, greedily trying to get more of his cock. Clawing at the stone as he arched his back. Looking at Omega and smirking.

“Did it shrink since the last time I took it master…? Feels far too small.”

Omega didn’t say anything, just raising his brow before pushing the entirety of his dick inside Terzo.

“Got anything else to say, smartass?”

Of course, he knew Terzo wouldn’t speak yet. He always needed a few minutes, which was understandable. After all, there was a nineteen inch long dick inside his sweet, tight little cunt.

Terzo was far too busy drooling on the floor, cunt squeezing around Omega’s cock. The cardinal only managed to whine pleadingly in response. Any brain cells he might have had went straight out the window once he had that massive cock inside him. He didn’t need to think to get railed.

“M-Move…please master…”

He mumbled, finally managing words after almost four minutes of desperate whines and unintelligible noises.

“Good boy… Keep those sweet noises coming, yeah?”

Omega hummed, starting to very slowly rolling his hips while moving Terzo’s own with one of his hands, using the other arm for support so he could lean over the man. Leaning in as close as he could, eagerly biting into his shoulder. Or at least attempting, since the cardinal seemed very eager to squirm…

Which ended up with Omega biting his neck. Accidentally mating him.

But oh well, as long as Terzo had no idea what it meant, it didn’t matter.

Terzo cried out as he drooled heavily, slamming his hips back despite Omega’s hand on him. Trying to wreck himself on Omega’s cock. Not even caring about being careful.

A wheelchair didn’t sound that bad.

“... Horny little man.”

Omega chuckled, covering Terzo’s neck and shoulders in bitemarks, greedily licking up all the blood that came out of the small wounds as he bruised the cardinal’s hips from his grip, eagerly matching the man’s need for his dick, moving in what seemed to be a perfect harmony with him.

Terzo was moaning like a pornstar as he slammed himself back onto the ghoul’s cock, eyes rolling back as the knot in his stomach tightened. Already worked up from the biting and cruel ghoul’s words. It was unfair how much his voice affected him.

“F-Fuck me like you mean it!”

“Aww, is this what my whiny baby wants?”

He grinned, grabbing the man’s throat and pulling him up as he moved himself to kneel more comfortably and pull the cardinal onto his lap, catching his lips in a hungry kiss as he moved them up and down like he would a toy. After all, he knew Terzo loved being used by him like that.

Terzo was practically screaming into that kiss, eyes rolling back as he came around the ghoul’s cock. Cunt drenched with slick as he whimpered brokenly. Clinging to the belt tying his hands.

“M-Master, please…fuck me stupid-”

“You already are.”

The ghoul chuckled, but obeyed the cardinal, easily knowing all his weak spots. They’ve done it multiple times by now, after all… why wouldn’t he know? He’d have to be stupid. And Omega was no fool, he was a very good observer. He knew exactly how to please Terzo.

And so he did, his fingers playing with their clit as he kept moving them up and down while squeezing his neck just enough to make them dizzy. Exactly the way Terzo liked it.

Terzo’s moans only got louder the closer he got to cumming his brains out, back fully arched as he squeezed his eyes shut. Their pussy clenching hard around Omega as he rolled his hips down onto him. Whimpering softly in need.

“Master…please…fill me with cum?”

Omega chuckled, nodding as he hid his face in Terzo’s neck, not stopping his actions, but holding his sounds back, only letting out tiny groans as he focused on his partner.

“You gotta cum first, baby boy. C’mon, you’ll cum for me, won’t you? Be a good boy for me.”

Terzo groaned as he clung to the belts tightly. Breathing hard as he whined in bliss. Grinding up into Omega’s hand as he squirmed. Screaming his name as he finally came after just a minute more.

“Oh fuck- OMEGA!”

“That’s right, pretty boy. That’s who’s fucking your brains out right now…”

Omega groaned, slowing down a bit to keep going a bit longer, but seeing Terzo’s pretty tears always worked miracles on him. And those miracles would always fill up the cardinal’s cunt with with his cum, just like now.

Terzo gave the dopiest smile as he felt the warmth in their cunt, tears dripping down his cheeks from pleasure as he clung to the ghoul. Not even on the same planet to register the camera clicking nearby.

Alpha smirked deviously under his mask…

That’s something Omega would deal with a bit later.

Written by Death and Nosferatu.

Taglist: @charlie-is-a-menace @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @randominstake @callmeicaro @dio-niisio @firefirevampire @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess @natoncesaid @sirlsplayland @thatoddboy @lightbluuestars @strawberriiblossoms @dark-angel-is-back @igodownjustlikeholymary

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beefrobeefcal · 4 months

Text

Friendos, it is time for the first installment of...

Theywhowriteandknowthings aka Knowy

@theywhowriteandknowthings was one of the first e-friendos I made on this site and has been a champion for me while I found my groove in my fic writing shoes. They were one of my first beta'ers for my works and offered super insightful & valuable input as well as their friendship. Their writing inspires me to keep pushing myself outside of the box and their encouragement makes it easy to do so!

Thank you, Knowy!

I-will-not-ask-you-where-you-came-from regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

Here's my Top 5 of @theywhowriteandknowthings work:

First Time's the Charm - Javi Gutierrez

This is the first fic I read of Knowy's and It came at me right before the Birth of Beefro. I was still loitering under my original tumblr account at the time and I wasn't even remotely looking at writing. But this fic led me into a deep dive into the Peepaw FF world and I never looked back - I have a massive soft spot for this fic, as well as it is very saucy!

Rendezvous in Reno - Dieter Bravo

NOW THIS IS WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT. I have read this fic many a time and I enjoy it more and more each time [I got to beta it and MY FUCK! i felt truly blessed and highly favoured]. Jus everything - the reader is an erotica writer and Dieter is a fan, his fabulous underwear, his dirty mouth, and his ego... MY GOD HIS EGO! This one is fun and should NOT be read while you sit in the same room as your in-laws FYI.

Creep - CreepyNeighbour!Joel Miller

This right here is a work of art. I got to beta this work again and I was a naughty pigeon and did it at work. LET ME TELL Y'ALL - I WAS LEFT UNABLE TO PERFORM MY DUTIES AS REQUIRED AFTER READING THIS. I should have taken the rest of the day to lay down and think on my sins because GOD DAMN. 10 out of 10 beefs for Creep. 🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩

The Princess & The Duke - StepDad!Dave York

Okay, okay, okay... this is the oom papa mow mow of Dave York is your stepdad fics and I will fight anyone who opposes it. I love this series and the way Knowy has written Dave THE WAY HE DESERVED TO BEGIN WITH. I love the gentle badass he is in this and I hope reader's mom chokes on a carrot as she gives a 'Deep Throating 101' class at the local community collage.

SNAFU - Shifter!Frankie Morales

And my fav (even though I'm not ranking)! The one that started it all. This fic is not how I found them, but it is what made me want to get to know them and pick their delicious brain. It's a Frankie Fiend's wet dream and I had no idea how enraptured I could be with a Shifter Universe! I screamed into my pillow like a teenager and kicked my legs gleefully thinking about how Frankie shared his chicken wings with IQ. I will die on the hill that is marked: KNOWY'S SNAFU IS BEST USE OF SHIFTER AU This is an ongoing series and whether we get a new chapter soon or not, we will always have Bear!Pope memes. 🐻💜

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023 - Sex Pollen/Pheromones Joel Miller x afab!Reader

Any & All Knowy's Miguel O'Hara fics Miguel O'Hara x afab!Reader

Whole Frankie Morales x afab!Reader x Santiago Garcia

Shore Leave Frankie Morales x afab!Reader x Santiago Garcia

Taungsdays, Am I Right? Din Djarin x afab!Reader

Hazy Days Din Djarin x afab!Reader

Breaking the Rules DBF!Joel Miller x afab!Reader

#friend of beefro fic rec #theywhowriteandknowthings #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal tummy #pedro pascal fanfiction #rec a fic festival 2023 #beefro is blessed #🥩

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applewillowstone · 3 months

Note

prompt 1 & 7 for caligator :)

HUZZAH ENJOY THESE: 🐊🌊 18+, smut

to ask for more prompts/ships for me to do

Pairings: Caligator (Billy Hargrove & Gator Tillman)

Prompt 1: "Feel this? It's just for you."

Prompt 7: "Let's find out how much you want it."

Tags/Warnings: not beta read we die like papa, smut, public sex, blow jobs, cumming, Mommy/Daddy kinks, lap dance, flirting, kissing, orgasms, Exhibition kinks, I think I covered it all lol.

Prompt 1: "Feel this? It's just for you."

Gator gave Billy a snarl of disdain at the slight groping he was receiving from his boyfriend. It wasn’t just goddamn subtle at all and in Scoops Ahoy of all places.

They were in line and Billy's hands couldn’t keep themselves off of Gator. The palm of his hands would smooth over Gators hips, already testing the limits before one hand would slip and take a handful of Gators ass to squeeze.

Gator could accidentally bump into the person ahead of him. Would profusely say he’s sorry even though he didn’t really care. What he did care about was that he was getting hard in his pants because Billy wouldn’t stop touching him.

Billy's laugh would echo within Scoops Ahoy and it would cause people not want to look at the both of them. Some were annoyed, others were afraid of them both and their reputation. Maybe it was why Billy felt he could get away with more shit.

As Gator got to the front to order Billy was leaning over his shoulder. Playing it off like he was just being an annoying asshole, which he was.

“Welcome to Scoops Ahoy are you ready to—“

Steve's face contorted and it was obvious because he was not expecting them to be there.

“What’s wrong, Stevie? We can’t visit our friends?” Billy tongue curled over his lips into a smirk.

“Not even buddies,” Steve sighs. “What do you two want?”

Gator raised a brow to Billy who seemed to know something he didn’t. His boyfriend leaned forward, closer to Steve and his body fully flushed to Gator. He tried to act cool, Gator hands went to the counter that separated them from Steve to brace him.

Billy gave a wink and his eyes flicked to the employees back room as Billy’s lips went to Gators ear.

"Feel this? It's just for you." Billy hushed a chuckle as Gator felt his boyfriend goddamn bulge in his pants riding up between Gators ass. He was going to die as he tried to not blush or moan in public.

“You owe me Stevie, remember?” Billy flashed a smile and Steve held up four fingers.

“Four minutes top, try to be fucking quiet.” Steve muttered under his breath as Billy dragged Gator to the back rooms before he even had a chance to ask if they could get ice cream first.

“What was that?” Gator asked at first looking around the employee little hang out area.

“I got Steve a date, not important.” Billy unzipped his pants with a smirk. “This is important.”

Gator began to argue but then Billy masterfully already had his cock out, hard and at the fucking ready, holy hell.

“Here!?” Gator was shocked at first but then it washed away when he decided to not give a shit.

Gator stalked up to Billy. Kissing along his jaw and muttering how much he loved his stupid ass before dropping to his knees.

“So big for me, Mama.” Gator praised.

As his tongue lolled out, licking from the base to the tip, Gator let out a loud groan. Totally forgetting about the quiet part they apparently both promised Steve.

Gators sucked at the tip, teasing the soft spongy head. He loved to tease the fuck out of Billy who he knew was very impatient. Shifting on his knees his hands went to Billy's waist.

His eyes flicked up to Billy as Gator opened his mouth, letting Billy’s tip rest on his tongue. “Don’t be afraid to fuck my face, Mama.” Gator winked as he didn’t break eye contact as he tried to take most of Billy in one swoop.

He gagged, silted and moaned around Billy’s girthy cock. Billy on the other hand was treating this like a normal Tuesday, hands behind his neck as he arched into Gators mouth.

Gator hummed as he bobbed his head, his eyes fluttering shut everytime the tip of Billy’s cock would reach the back of his throat. If Gator could he would stay frozen in time like this.

They didn’t have much time and Gator knew that. He breathed through his nose, building more saliva as he wanted Billy to completely bury himself into his mouth.

Gator whined loudly around his cock, the vibrations definitely caught Billy’s attention whose hand dropped to Gators gelled up hair.

“Don’t worry, Daddy. I’ll let you have the best tasting thing here.” Billy's voice was husky as his hands tightened in Gators hair when he suddenly thrusted forward.

Gator gagged as his hands tightened immediately at Billy’s hips. His brain yelling for oxygen but the heat building in his gut fucking begged for Billy to cum in him. He didn’t care if it was short and quick, he needed it now. Gator wanted to taste Billy, his favorite ice cream.

A couple more snaps from Billy’s hips and Gator moaned at the warmth that filled his throat. Billy’s cock buried deep in his throat, as Gator swallowed every goddamn drip that was offered to him.

Gator wasn’t even popping off, feeling lightheaded he didn’t care. Billy wasn’t quiet at all, moaning and cursing like a sailor that had Steve bursting in the door and his face of horror had made it clear he already forgot what they planned to do back there.

Billy pulled himself out of Gators throat, panting as he smirked to Steve.

“What? Did you want a taste?”

Steve was goddamn pale looking at them both. “J-Just get done and get out.” Steve stuttered as he left.

Gator was breathing heavily on the floor as he looked back up to Billy.

“Did I do a good job, Mama?”

Billy chuckled as he leaned forward, licking a stride across his lips. Moaning as he loved to taste himself.

“You did very well, baby.”

Prompt 7: "Let's find out how much you want it."

Billy was fucking bored and that was say something because normally he was in Hawkins. He was hanging with Gator Tillman was the problem, he shouldn’t be bored hanging out with Gator.

“Are we really just going to sit here and watch sports all day on tv?” Billy groaned.

Gator gave a small shrug as flipped through the channels and then ultimately turned it off. “Got any better ideas to do in this shit town?”

Billy smirked at that. Finally, something to actually fucking do.

“Millions. You fucking take your pick.”

Gator pondered for a bit.. and then a little longer and Billy sinked more into the couch with even more groaning.

“Truth or dare?”

Billy sighed but nodded. “Dare.”

“That quick?” Gator laughed.

“I’m fucking bored here, yes. Give me a goddamn dare.”

Gator raised up his hands as if he didn’t realize Billy’s poor boredom was at stake.

“Alright… I dare you to prank call someone?”

Billy leaned forward and flicked Gator near his eye. “Are we fucking twelve?”

Gator groaned and swatted Billy’s hand away. “Fine! I dare you to give me a lap dance then.”

Billy raised a brow as he slithered off the couch and kicked at Gators leg to widen them.

“Oh, seriously?” Gator looked bewildered.

“It’s your fucking dare.” Billy barked back, unbuttoning his shirt halfway staring into Gator's face. He was trying to read the guy. Did it turn him on as much as it did Billy? He fucking hoped it did. Maybe Billy could make this more entertaining of a guys night.

Gator swallows thickly and Billy smirked as he slowly crawled to his spot on the couch. His arms never touching Gator as he steadied himself on the back of the couch. His knees nestled close to each side of Gators hips as Billy chuckled.

“You’re blushing.” Billy said as he slowly sank down onto Gators lap.

“N-No.” Gator hands shook as it got closer to Billy he laughed as swatted his hands away, just like earlier.

“No touching the merchandise during your lap dance.” Billy added a little roleplay element. Humming he slowly rocked his hips, Billy face played it cool even with his cock throbbing in his pants.

Gator had no goddamn poker face. His face was crimson red, his hands were fidgeting and most importantly? Billy knew Gator was enjoying this.

Billy ground down a couple of times, just to see Gators reaction. It was all fun and games until Gator was gasping and Billy decided to be mean.

“I think I did enough for the dare, it’s my turn.” Billy smiled as if this was normal and Gator was just nodding.

Billy however, made no effort to get off of Gators lap.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Gator puppy dog face with a pouty lip looked up to Billy, almost begging to be told what to do.

Billy leaned forward and whispered into Gators ear. "Let's find out how much you want it." Directing Gators hand to his crotch, Billy grinned wickedly as Gator hastily went to undo his pants.

Finally, some fucking action tonight.

#billy hargrove #stranger things #Fargo #Gator Tillman #Gator Tillman smut #Billy Hargrove smut #read the tags on post whoop #caligator

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ao3feed-brucewayne · 5 months

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Come My Dear and Be a Part of My Home

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/w0EXjtn by TheWritingOwl When Dick took over Tim's infiltration of the Ghost Investigation Ward, he thought he'd be coming out of it with a few files and maybe some information. Instead, he left with a kid. Now Dick finds himself trying to learn how to be a father all while helping his new son, Danny, overcome the trauma that he had been dealt by the GIW. It's a roller coaster of a ride, but thankfully Dick isn't alone. Danny now has a bunch of excitable aunts, uncles, grandparents, and even a great-grandfather all ready to dote on him. Dick is determined to give Danny the best life he can manage as he works to keep Danny safe from the myriad of forces that want to harm him. Words: 8209, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 7 of Owl's DPxDC Week 2023, Part 2 of Papa Bird & Baby Ghost Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: Gen Characters: Danny Fenton, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Duke Thomas, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth Relationships: Danny Fenton & Dick Grayson, Batfamily Members & Dick Grayson, Batfamily Members & Danny Fenton Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Family Fluff, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Domestic Batfamily (DCU), Protective Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson Tries to Be a Good Parent, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson Gets a Hug, Danny Fenton Needs A Hug, Danny Fenton Gets a Hug, Toddler Danny Fenton, Past Child Abuse, Human Experimentation, Not Canon Compliant, No Beta We Die Like the GIW, Tags May Change read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/w0EXjtn

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the caped crusader #the dark knight #dcu #ao3 #ao3feed

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ao3feed-birdflash · 1 month

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#IFTTT #fanfic #dick grayson #wally west #dickwally #birdflash

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terror-slut · 2 years

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Change of Heart

Chapter 04/?? Click HERE for this fics masterlist!

Reader is a troubled pediatrician at Hawkins lab when she crosses paths with this lovely orderly. Nothing will stand between Peter and his revenge. Not even really pretty distractions.

Pairing: Peter Ballard x f!reader

Word count: 2010

Ratings & warnings: SPOILERS, period typical sexism, violence, blood, NSFW, swearing, no (Y/N), no described defining features for reader. Ratings may change as chapters are added.

A/N: his name is Peter and he has spidey senses….. who is he? The answer might surprise you. Special thanks to @pechvogal who motivated me to write this chapter <3

6 months ago

The office where she is waiting for the infamous dr. Brenner to meet with her is a cold, empty space. The walls are decorated with the same white tiles that the floor exists out of, eerily similar to the design of a padded cell. The desk that is centered in the middle of the room has no picture frames on it, or anything else that might hint to dr. Brenner’s personal life. The pediatrician suspects it might be done on purpose, to keep his professional life and his personal life separated from one another, in case his staff or the lab’s psychokinetic test subjects turn on him. If that were to happen, there would be nothing here they could potentially use to target him. Except for the plastic nameplate that reads ‘Dr. M.R. Brenner,’ there is nothing else present that even alludes to the office being his.

She softly exhales through her nose, these exact precautions taken by a highly esteemed scientist remind her once again of the dangers she’s exposing herself to, but it does little to shake her determination. All she wants to do is to help. Help science, of course, but more importantly, help the children within the lab.

With a soft click, the door behind her opens and the tall man who she recognizes from the newspaper clippings as dr. Brenner steps inside the austere office. She stands up from her seat to greet the older man, and he takes her stretched out hand to shake it.

“Welcome. I’m dr. Brenner, research scientist and director of this laboratory. It wasn’t too difficult a place to find, I trust?” A smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes rests on his face as she politely laughs at his joke.

“Certainly not, sir. I thank you for taking the time out of your day to meet with me,” he gestures for her to sit back down as he himself takes a seat in the sleek, black office chair behind the desk.

“No need to thank me. I’ve read your résumé,” he states, crossing his arms over one another while his stern gaze sweeps over her face. “Not only do you have a master in pediatrics, but also in psychology. And that at your age. I would say that is quite the achievement.”

“I’m a firm believer that those two go hand in hand, not to mention that certain disorders of the mind can be discovered, and thus treated, at a much earlier age, given the right guidance,” refusing to bother with small talk, she latches onto the praise of the accomplished scientist sitting across from her, and launches into the job interview.

“you don’t suppose pedagogy covers both these specialisms?” He challenges, seemingly as unimpressed by small talk as she is. The topic he broaches convinces her he has in fact read her thesis.

“I don’t think so. I find pedagogy only covers half of each specialism and although very useful in theory, the practice of it is entirely different. With both my masters I’m specialized in fields that can be of great use to you, sir. Not only do I know children physiologically, I also know them psychologically,” Dr. Brenner leans back in his office chair with an unreadable expression, but he hasn’t shut her down yet, which she takes as a good sign.

“Go on,” the white haired man nods.

“With me and my fields or expertise working within this lab, you would have a great advantage over the ch- the test subjects. I can easily distinguish the beginnings of a mental health problem from a physical problem, and provide guidance for both,” she explains, her words brimming with ardour.

“I would save this laboratory time as well as money, things that are extremely valuable, especially within the field of science,” the enthusiastic twinkle in his eyes reflects her own, though his body language remains neutral.

“You are certainly a persuasive young woman, I’ll give you that,” dr. Brenner speaks as he uncrosses his arms and the fabric of his tailored suit falls back into place as he does. “It doesn’t surprise me that you were able to obtain two masters, with this ambitious approach to your academical life.”

“Thank you, sir,” she politely acknowledges his compliment, though she can feel a dreaded ‘but’ coming her way.

“This laboratory would undoubtedly gain a valuable asset should we hire you,” he continues, tapping his fingers together. “But I have to ask you, miss. What’s in it for you? What do you want?”

The next time Peter sees her, she looks more rested than she had that evening. She blends in amongst the other doctors and the sleek bun from before has made it’s reappearance. The uniform she wears has been washed and ironed so there is no evidence left of the crumpled up fabric it had been not too long ago. Once again, her stony façade is firmly back in place. Peter finds he prefers the disheveled version of her.

When it comes to Peter himself, he has resumed his nonsensical chatting with the other orderlies, always listening for information that might prove to be useful to him later.

Much like a spider notices changes in the air through the vibrations of it’s web, Peter senses something is now different than before that night. Their oblivious coworkers notice nothing, but the pediatrician smiles at him, now. Their eyes meet from across the room and her lips curl upwards into a soft smile before she casts her eyes down and hurries along. He absentmindedly returns her smiles with ones of his own, and wonders if this is what it feels like when two people share a secret.

“Heading out, doctor?” The sudden baritones of his voice pull her back to the cold exterior of the hallway she stands in, rummaging through her bag for her keycard.

“Fu-“ she whirls around to face the man behind her, her frame relaxing when her eyes connect with the familiar orderly. A soft smile involuntarily creeps upon her face. “Oh, Peter, it’s you! You scared the living daylights out of me!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologizes, amusement dancing in the blue of his irises.

“That’s alright, I just didn’t hear you. We have to stop meeting like this, though,” she jokes, and a deep chuckle escapes him. She likes the sound of that.

“I wondered,” he starts, slightly hesitant on how to word his thoughts. “If you’re alright.”

“I’m… better than I was, before,” she answers, taking a step toward him so no one can eavesdrop on their private conversation.

In that brief moment, the fleeting scent of pomegranate and lemongrass cloud his sense of smell, and nostalgia hits him like a ton of bricks. The soft tickle of grass underneath his bare feet while making a dainty crown out of daisies. The heat of the sun on his skin lessened by the cool waters of lover’s lake where he used to swim. The pink in the night as the sun settled, instead of the harsh fluorescents and the inescapable blinding white everywhere within the lab. The slow crawl of his spiders when they would walk up his arms. He misses nature.

“We talked, and my father promised he’d stop pushing me to find a husband so much,” the sweet and soft ring of her voice forces him out of his nostalgic daydream. “Of course, his promises don’t last. I give him a week before he’s back to his usual behavior.”

“Why do you still live with him when he treats you like this?” Had it been Peter’s own father, the man would have been dead for a long time.

“He’d be all alone. My mother is gone and his age is catching up to him,” her expression falters. “Don’t get me wrong Peter, I want to live my own life. But I’m afraid the guilt would consume me if I left now and something happened to him.”

For a mere moment, they simply look at one another. Him, so tall and so pretty with his full blond head of hair and his thick eyelashes, the slope of his sharp nose and the curve of his soft looking lips. Then there is her, a head smaller than the man in front of her and so caught off guard by this beautiful creature standing in front of her.

“I never did thank you for listening to me that night,” it is she who breaks the comfortable silence.

“You don’t have to,” he says.

“But I want to,” her insistence shuts him up, at least for a little while.

“I know I don’t talk to people here, and I’m sure you’ve noticed it too. I don’t like opening up because I don’t like being vulnerable, so I avoid it where I can. I would rather have people think I’m a bitch than a weak woman. But you… You are so easy to talk to, Peter. You let me speak without interrupting me and without making me feel bad for expressing my emotions. So, you deserve a thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, his voice reduced to a rasp. Unsure of what is coming over him, he closes in on her with a single step. Whether it is because she blossoms when she is around him or simply because it’s her, he feels moved and something stirs within him. Her breath hitches in her throat because of his close proximity, but he senses it is not from fear.

Instead, she tilts her face, her beautiful face up towards his own, and Peter is once again overcome with the urge to touch her wherever he can, and then some. He wants to rip off the padded winter coat she wears and then run his hands along her ribs, feel the warmth of her skin shiver under his cold hands before moving them further up, exploring the soft skin that is currently covered up by the atrocity that is the Hawkins laboratory’s uniform.

“Peter,” her voice is an urgent whisper, her eyes darting from his own to his full lips, and he knows she feels it too. The burning in the pit of their stomachs, the heat rising to their cheeks, they are in sync. Her face is so soft when his thumb and pointer finger graze her chin, so soft that he wonders how it is even possible.

“Hey! Are we still walking together, or what?” It’s one of the nurses who interrupts the pair before he can even get a taste.

Annoyed, he takes a step back from his pediatrician and he falls back into his usual posture, hands behind his back and his face, angelic, she thinks, neutral.

“Oh, Peter. Are you leaving too?” The nurse asks. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the pediatrician smoothing down her coat.

“No, I’m not. I was just discussing 015’s recovery with the good doctor,” his smile is nothing but kind, but murder is on his mind.

“Oh, that’s too bad. I’m trying to get her to make friends within the lab. A day’s work goes by so much faster when you have friends, y’know?” the nurse rambles on, but it’s obvious to Peter that she didn’t catch wind of their little rendez vous.

“Yes, well,” he abruptly interrupts her, not interested in hearing another word coming out of her mouth. It’s the pediatrician he looks at when he speaks next. “Drive home safely. I will see you again, tomorrow.”

He turns on his heels, and then, he is gone.

“I will assist and guide the test subjects wherever they need me, dr. Brenner. I will do so on one condition,” the pediatrician states.

“Ah,” he simply acknowledges with an unsurprised soft grunt, having suspected this.

“I will help Henry Creel, too. I will pick up the pieces you’ve left him in, and I will rehabilitate him. And you will let me.”

A/N: ik I’m the one who writes this but this bitch interrupting their MOMENT?! She’s the real threat at hawkins lab

Tag List: @sunweee @ancientbeing10 @njutul @lauftivy @madamerebloger @korekiyoss @immazebrah @severuslovebot @hobii-c0re @pechvogal @raineeace @peterballardsgirlfriend @shatteredflowers @thedoubleexposurephotography @dogmom2014 @daffy-ducks-hug @odd1seven

Lmk if you wanted to be added/removed from the tag list!

#mind the tags <3 #happy reading!#st4 #peter ballard x reader #henry creel x reader #001 x reader #vecna x reader #stranger things #stranger fics #change of heart #change of heart fiction #horror #period typical sexism #swearing #no (y/n)#dr brenner #st spoilers #no described defining features for reader #not beta read we die like papa

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ao3feed-twiyor · 3 months

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And The Memories Bring Back You

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/aL8ESHo by CreativWit “Papa Scruffy,” she starts, her tone lilting up as she prepares to ask him a question. Franky gives her his attention, but his fingers continue to play the lullaby. “Can you teach Anya to play?” At that, Franky’s heart swells, and a bright smile crosses his face. “Of course.” ~~~~~~~ Franky teaches Anya how to play guitar, and maybe he remembers some important memories along the way. Words: 3147, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: SPY x FAMILY (Manga), SPY x FAMILY (Anime) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M Characters: Franky Franklin, Loid Forger | Twilight, Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Anya Forger, Franky's Past Family, Franky's Mother, Franky's Younger Brother Relationships: Loid Forger | Twilight/Franky Franklin, Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Franky Franklin/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Franky Franklin/Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Anya Forger & Franky Franklin Additional Tags: Guitars, Papa Scruffy, Written by someone who has never played guitar, past trauma, Grief/Mourning, family traditions, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Tworky, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, a bit of a songfic, Franky Franklin Whump, Whump, Friends to Lovers, Father-Daughter Relationship, Established Relationship, Memories, Repressed Memories, Childhood Memories, Music, Domestic Fluff, Yor disappeared to...work and then comes back, Loid and Franky being cute, twinky - Freeform, Yorky, Franky is Musically Talented, No beta we die like loid's sanity, Self-Esteem Issues read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/aL8ESHo

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #twiyor #spy x family #sxf #loid forger #yor forger

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ao3feed-kathony · 4 months

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A Betrayals Aftermath: The Scandalous Secrets of Eloise Bridgerton

read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52783747 by Aryasheretic Reeling from a devastating revelation and loss of her kinship with her former best friend, Eloise Bridgerton wrestles with herself, and said former best friend: Penelope Featherington. As she debates if she should tell anyone of Penelope's infamous alter-ego, “Lady Whistledown”, and if so, who? Perhaps her new sister-in-law Kate, or her older sister Daphne, her favorite brother Benedict, or even the Queen, whose search for the writer remains fervent. Or maybe even Marina Thompson, someone else Penelope hurt for selfish gain. As a possible union between Colin and Penelope looms, Eloise must decide what to do, because she certainly cannot let the backstabbed into her precious family. Eloise begins to realize how the secret could change lives or even end them. Suddenly friendless, she welcomes possible acquaintances, and takes it upon herself to explore more of the world beyond it, where she discovers the world beyond the ton, and even of herself. Things that could complicate her life further. Armed with the secrets, Eloise must protect herself, her family, and her new friends, while she finds her place in a world that encases a whole lot more than what is expected of her, or even allowed, while stakes grow higher and higher. Words: 1811, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn, Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M Characters: Eloise Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Daphne Bridgerton, Marina Thompson, Penelope Featherington, Colin Bridgerton, Original Female Character(s), Anthony Bridgerton, Charlotte zu Mecklenburg-Strelitz | Charlotte Queen of the United Kingdom, Minor Characters, Michael Stirling, John Stirling I, Francesca Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton Relationships: Benedict Bridgerton & Eloise Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton & Eloise Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton & Original Female Character(s), Eloise Bridgerton & Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton & Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Anthony & Benedict & Colin & Daphne & Eloise & Francesca & Gregory & Hyacinth Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma Additional Tags: Eloise has a secret, actually a few, and counting, POV Eloise Bridgerton, Lesbian Eloise Bridgerton, might not be mentioned but its important to me that you know, Bridgerton (TV) Season 3 Speculation, Self-Indulgent, Self-Discovery, Politics, Regency, not exactly Penelope friendly but not anti Penelope either, Author is dyslexic/adhd, Bridgerton Family Feels, Protective Benedict Bridgerton, Benedict and Eloise friendship, No beta we die like papa bridgerton read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52783747

#kathony #kanthony #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #ao3feed #fanfic

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gothdaddyissues · 1 year

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The Devil Came To A Small Town

Story Summary: In a bougie small town, a local witch strikes up a business relationship with the newly-arrived Satanic Church, setting in motion a series of events that lead to two misfits falling in love

Chapter Four available on Ao3

or under the cut (~5000 words)

PS - you can jump into this chapter without reading the others if you're just looking for a good time... 😉

THE DREAM - Izzy has a dream evoking her wild past and the skull painted man... and things get smutty.

⛧ Playlist for this chapter ⛧

ADULT CONTENT - 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI

Tags: OC female, Cardinal Copia/Papa IV, smut smut smut, Dom Papa IV, dubious consent (it's dream sex), rough sex, oral sex, rough oral sex, choking, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, unprotected sex, No Beta (we die like Terzo), Google Translate Italiano

Catch up here: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |

Saturday night at The Sanctuary was always the busiest. It wasn’t just the townies, but all the ultra-fashionable goths from the city would show up too. And it was Darkwave Dance Party night, so she knew it would be full of the fun, freaky types.

She was bored. Restless and horny. She wanted to drink until she was nice and loose, wanted to get lost in the seductive beat of the music. To dance, and hopefully get a little action if she could find the right guy to grind up against.

She made her way up the steps of the old Abbey, clad in a skin-tight, sapphire blue velvet slipdress and high-heeled, black leather thigh-high boots. This was an outfit that always got attention, and attention was what was craving. Her long, dark hair was flat ironed stick straight, her black winged eyeliner sharp enough to stab, her lips painted blood red. She was on the prowl tonight, a huntress in search of her prey.

She could feel the beat of the music from outside, recognizing it immediately as Love Like Blood by Killing Joke. A great start. The bouncers let her right in, knew her on sight as a regular. Her friends were probably already inside, but that didn’t matter to her. Tonight wasn’t about hanging out with her usual crew. She wanted something new and different to keep her occupied.

The main hallway was a sea of pale faces, studded leather, and black lace. She sliced through the crowd to the Vampire Lounge - the bartenders there poured a little heavier. The walls were hung with red velvet curtains and ornate brass sconces. Richly upholstered Victorian furniture was scattered between carved wooden tables and coffin-shaped bookcases. Tall candelabras stood every few feet, black candles dripping with melted wax. Long-haired Lestat wannabes lounged about, sucking on Hookah pipes and sipping Guinness Snakebites. Boring boring boring. Not why she was here.

The next song started - She’s In Parties by Bauhaus. Another favorite of hers. She took a seat at the bar, hailed a bartender, and got herself a Dirty Shirley with extra maraschino cherries. She took a deep swig, then sucked two cherries off of the plastic pick into her mouth - sticky, sweet, and juicy. It gave her a moment to survey the crowd, looking for potential suitors for the night. Lots of familiar faces and a few she didn’t recognize. Alas, no one stood out.

Until she caught a glimpse of him. Brief. Too brief. But enough of a look to build intrigue. It was the painted face that captured her attention at first. Sure, almost every face in this building was painted in some form. Not like this though. Stark-white skin with deep black circles around his eyes and a sharp, perfectly defined black contour that ran across his cheekbones and mouth. Skull paint. Dramatic much? Unique though. His salt-and-pepper hair was brushed back from his face, definitely an elder goth-type. In the few seconds she watched him she could feel the heat building low inside her. Yep, this was the one. He seemed a bit dangerous, and she liked that…. And also a little familiar? A spark of recognition, even though she was quite sure she’d never seen him here before. But as quickly as she had seen him, he turned away and disappeared into the crowd.

She downed the rest of her drink and ordered another, scanning the room to find him again. Was that him? The back of a jacket, distressed edges, elaborately laced from collar to hem, straight down the spine. He was heading for the Chapel, where the dance floor was. She followed, fresh drink in hand. She was feeling warm and fuzzy. Was it the alcohol or was it arousal? It didn’t matter - she was reveling in it either way.

The Chapel was across the main hallway from the Lounge, and the hallway was suddenly extremely crowded. So many people. They were an annoyance to her. She was searching for him. She’d catch sight of him, and then he was gone again. There and gone. There and gone. For a moment, she panicked, feeling like she might drown in this sea of bodies. But she worked her way through as the crowd ebbed and flowed, sluggishly pushing her forward towards the Chapel entrance like lazy waves rolling towards the shore.

She crossed the threshold into the Chapel, the ancient stone flooring throbbing with the beat of the music. This was once a place of worship, but now instead of an altar, there was a DJ booth. Instead of a crucifix dangling above, there was a wall of speakers. Pulsating lights hung from the soaring, arched ceiling, illuminating the writhing mass of people on the dancefloor in red, blue, gold, and green. Couples, groups, grinding, kissing, fondling each other under the stained glass windows. A hot and sweaty den of debauchery, profane and blasphemous. Sanctuary, but only for the wicked.

The DJ segued into the next song. Lucretia My Reflection by Sisters of Mercy. Oooh shit, she loved this one so much. She took one more deep drink from her glass and abandoned it on a nearby table before stepping onto the dance floor to sway and sashay to the music. She raised her arms over her head and twirled, letting go of inhibition…

There he was, her skull-painted prey, making his way through the crowd along the side of the dance floor. The mass of people parted to make room for him as if they were commanded to. Perhaps they could sense the power in him, the same sheer magnetism that was drawing her to him and making her ache inside. She continued to sway, watching him move, watching him work the crowd, seeing how they gazed at him in awe. Suddenly, he stopped, turning towards the dance floor and staring directly at her.

She could finally get a good look at him now. The artfully distressed jacket and matching skin–tight jeans. The black vest and silk shirt with a high collar and ruffled cuffs that almost completely covered his gloved hands. The royal blue cravat tied around his neck. The perfect goth daddy. Only then did she notice his eyes - one green, one white. That pang of recognition hit her again. He seemed so familiar to her.

She continued to writhe to the music as he stared down his nose at her, not relinquishing eye contact, looking every bit like a dom ready to tame his brat. Like he knew that was exactly what she wanted. Heat was pooling in her core. She had never needed a man so badly in her life.

The tables had turned. Now she was the prey, and he had her perfectly in his sights.

She closed her eyes and ran her hands over her body, from her ass to her waist, sliding up over her breasts and across her neck into her hair, all while dancing seductively. If he was going to stare, she might as well give him a show, right? When she opened her eyes again, he was gone.

She faltered, stumbling a bit as she stopped still on the dance floor, her eyes desperately searching for him in the crowd. Before she could turn to look around, she felt him. He was right behind her, his gloved hands coming to her waist, slipping down to her hips and gripping them tight, tight enough to bruise. He pulled her body against his, her back pressed to his front. She could feel how hard he was against the swell of her ass.

Oh yes, this is what she wanted. Needed. Craved.

The song faded into the next: Night Shift by Siouxie and the Banshees. A slow, sexy beat, dark and dreamy, just like the man holding her. It was hypnotic.

She slid her hands down and placed them over top of his, encouraging his tight grip as she rocked her hips to the beat of the music. Her ass wriggled back and forth, back and forth, teasing him further. He moved with her, rolling his hips into her in a luscious grind. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against his shoulder, lolling to the side, lost in the sensation of his body on hers. His head dipped down, his lips barely ghosting over her exposed neck as he breathed her in, nuzzling her with his nose until his mouth was at her ear.

“Well, aren’t you a sexy little thing?” It was a whispered growl. “Did you come here to play tonight, gattina?”

His voice, his accent, sent a shiver right through to her core; his breath in her ear gave her goosebumps. She mewled in response, unable to form a coherent thought.

He turned her then, his gloved hands at her waist to move her so they were face to face. He pulled her flush against him once more. His left hand took a firm hold of her ass, his fingers digging into the pliant flesh while his right hand slid up to the back of her neck, bringing her face so so close to his and trapping her there. He lowered his forehead to hers, their noses brushing against each other’s, lips a hair’s breadth from touching. They stayed like this for a few moments, swaying together in time with the music. She felt his leg nudge hers apart, slipping in between them, his thigh pressing firmly against her. The hand on her ass nudged her forward and then pulled her back, over and over, slowly and deliberately, until she was riding this thigh, gripping onto the lapels of his jacket to keep herself upright. She was gasping, lost in the stimulation, completely in his thrall.

“Will you let Papa have his way with you, dolcezza?” he asked, his voice dripping with honey.

She nodded, enraptured, staring up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Ah-ah… Words. Use them. I need to hear you say it. Or I stop, si?”

“Yes! Yes, please. Please Papa,” she whimpered. “Anything you want.”

“Anything?” His lips were at her ear again: “Be careful what you wish for, gattina.”

He backed off of her, taking hold of her hand and making his way off the dance floor and out of the Chapel entirely. She clutched at his hand with both of hers, staggering behind him in a daze. He sliced his way through the crowd expertly, as if he were intimately familiar with the layout of the building, leading her down the main hallway and through one of the back doors that led outside. The chill of the night air hit her overheated skin and set her shivering, but nothing but this man would tame the heat inside of her.

He led her to the old greenhouse that stood a few feet away. It was dilapidated and overgrown, with weeds and vines making their way inside through the broken windows. But there was privacy here, light streaking in from the main building providing enough illumination to see, yet still enough shadow to conceal them from view.

Once the door was open, he led her inside first. She stood breathless as he shut the door and turned to her. His face was half shadow, half light, the stark contrast only accentuated by the skull paint he wore. His one white eye practically glowed as he approached her, slowly, like a predator. It was equal parts terrifying and arousing. She instinctively backed away with each step he took toward her, even though she wanted to be ravaged by him. The thrill of the chase…

“You said you’d do anything,” he reminded her, taunting her as continued to approach and she kept stepping backward.

“Yes Papa,” she whispered, “And I will.”

They were quickly approaching the far wall of the greenhouse that was shared with the Abbey proper, made of stone bricks instead of glass. He picked up his pace, reaching out to her as her back hit the wall. Instead of touching her, he clamped his hands onto the brick, one on either side of her head, trapping her there while he stared down at her with a burning gaze, his pupils blown black with lust.

"So beautiful," he whispered, “Un giocattolo così grazioso per me.”

She was entranced by his eyes, only looking away to glance down at his full, parted lips, anticipating the kiss that had yet to come. It was a tease now, his lips so close to hers, his body pressing her hard against the wall so she could feel the large bulge of his cock against her thigh. Wholly intoxicated by the weight of him, the scent of leather and smoky spice, she couldn’t bear the wait any longer. She grabbed hold of the cravat hanging from his neck and wrapped it twice around her right hand, using the leverage to pull his lips to hers. It was a bruising kiss, hard and rough, wanton and sloppy and desperate. Her other hand went to the back of his head to hold him there against her lips. They were both groaning into each other’s mouths, knowing that this was only a prelude to more pleasure.

Finally, his hands were on her body, dragging the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders before tugging the bodice down to expose her breasts to him. The punishing kisses continued as he explored her flesh, his gloved hands covering her breasts, squeezing them, teasing each already-hardened nipple between a thumb and forefinger. He pried his lips away from hers, sucking and biting his way down her neck to the hollow of her throat before licking a stripe down over the swell of her breasts and taking each nipple into his mouth in turn, swirling around them with his tongue. She was whimpering, shuddering under his ministrations.

“Such sweet sounds you make for me,” he murmured against her skin, nibbling kisses back up across her chest to her face, eye to eye with her again. “But do you think I can make you scream, hmmm? Will you cry out my name when you cum for me?” He kissed her hard, sucking at her lower lip and nipping it with his teeth.

“Yes, Papa,” she said, her breath shaking.

He smiled wickedly, “Good girl.” He reached for her dress again, taking hold of the material bunched up under her breasts and sliding it further past her waist and over her hips until it slipped down her legs and landed in a pool at her feet. His eyes tracked the fabric as it fell but quickly darted back to hers once he saw that she was completely bare underneath it. “Well, well, you did come to play tonight.” The gloved hands were running all over her naked skin now, buttery smooth and hot. He kissed her once more and leaned in to whisper in her ear: “No more teasing. Spread your legs.”

She obeyed without hesitation and he wasted no time, expertly sliding the fingers of his right hand between her legs and into the soft folds that were already soaked in anticipation. The feel of the leather there was delicious, unlike anything she had experienced before. It had her moaning immediately. His left hand gripped her under the chin, his thumb and fingers on either side of her neck applying light pressure… with the promise of more. He tilted her chin up, forcing her to maintain eye contact with him.

“So wet for me already,” he purred, his fingers making contact with her clit, stroking and teasing. “So, so needy. You came here to get fucked tonight, didn’t you?” She gasped as he easily slid one finger inside of her, then a second a moment later. “Is this what you wanted, tesoro?” His thumb was on her clit now, applying sweet pressure there while his fingers pumped in and out of her at a languid pace.

She arched her back off of the wall, pressing herself into him, her eyes fluttering shut in blissful pleasure. His grip around her throat suddenly tightened.

“Eyes open,” he ordered. She complied. “You didn’t answer me. I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes Papa,” she stammered, “I… I wanted this.”

“Is this all you want?” He rubbed her clit harder.

She was getting close, the tension building heavy in her core. “Oooh….” she whined, “N-n-no”

He brought his face right up to hers again, their eyes locked. “Tell me. Tell me what you want, and perhaps I will give it to you.”

“I want…” she gasped, “I want you to fuck me. I want your cock.”

His eye contact was unwavering. “Good girls say ‘please.’”

“Please… P-p-please, Papa,” she begged.

“Mmmmm,” he cooed, finally satisfied with her reply, “I like the sound of you begging, dolcezza. I like it very much.” His fingers continued to work her as he slowly lowered himself to his knees, trailing light kisses down her body as he moved. “You will have this cock.” He lapped at her breast. “I will fuck you and make you mine.” His tongue swept from her sternum to her belly button. “But first, I want to taste you.”

He knelt between her legs, his fingers still buried deep inside of her. His free hand gripped her thigh and lifted her leg up and over his shoulder to ease access to her dripping wet heat. His thumb left her clit to be replaced with his tongue, at first lapping softly down through her folds to her entrance then back up to swirl around the center of her pleasure. He moaned at the taste of her, the vibration sending shockwaves through her.

“Papa!” she cried out, beyond caring if anyone heard.

That was the response he wanted. He moaned again, leaning his shoulder further into her, lifting her leg higher to press her harder into the wall, his hand firmly on her ass. She was completely at his mercy. His fingers went deeper, twisting, looking for that sweet spot inside of her to make her come undone. When she gasped and shuddered, he knew he had found it. He continued to tease it and sucked her clit into his mouth.

She couldn’t take much more. She had been on the verge of her orgasm before he even put his mouth on her, and now it was the point of no return. It was just too good - his fingers and his tongue worked her in ways she had never experienced, but somehow exactly as she needed. She slid her hands into his hair, grabbing fistfuls of it and holding on while she rocked her hips back and forth in time with his tongue, moaning shamelessly. He encouraged her, the hand on her ass supporting her as she chased her climax.

“Papa, Papa.. please don’t stop. Don’t stop!” Her legs shook as the tension within her finally snapped. “Papa… fuck! Jesus fucking Christ…” she swore and wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her, her hips undulating in time with his tongue as he worked her through it, unrelenting. He did not stop until he had wrung every last whimper and gasp out of her and she was a panting, trembling mess.

He removed his fingers from her gently, and slid them into his mouth, sucking away the wetness as he stood, humming with satisfaction. He took her into his embrace, one arm around her waist and one on the back of her neck, holding her through each shattered breath as she came down from the ecstatic high. “Mmmm, deliziosa. Così buono. Una ragazza così brava per me,” he whispered praise in her ear. His lips found hers, capturing her in a feverish kiss.

She could taste herself on his lips, and it thrilled her. She wanted more. She wanted all of him. She wanted to make him squirm and shudder as he had done to her. She broke off the kiss, using her tongue to swipe his slick-coated chin clean, then slid her tongue back into his mouth. He groaned, rolling his hips into her, pushing her back upon the wall, his cock painfully hard and straining against the seams of his skin-tight pants.

Before he could ask, or command, she was on her knees before him. Her hands gripped the front of his thighs and she leaned forward to place a sweet, gentle kiss on the bulge in his pants. She felt him tense up, a strangled “Fuck,” escaping his lips. She slid her hands down to his knees, up the back of his thighs, then splayed out her fingers to grab his ass and give it a good squeeze. Her hands lingered there as she nuzzled into his crotch, earning another groan from him. She looked up at him and saw his head tilted back, his eyes shut, enjoying the way she was fondling him.

The fastening of his pants was laced up like a corset and tied in a bow. She took the end of the string between her teeth and pulled to untie it, before walking her fingers up and across his waistband to work at loosening the lacing. He sighed as it came undone, no doubt relishing the pressure release. He looked down at her then, and his hand came to the top of her head, his fingers weaving into her hair as she peeled the fabric away to free him from his confines. He was bare underneath and his cock sprang free as she pulled the waistband down to his thighs. She expected him to be big after feeling him grinding on her, but she was not prepared for the size revealed… thick, hard, and ready for her.

“Suck me, principessa,” he hissed, those hypnotic, mismatched eyes locking with hers again. It wasn’t an ask, it was an order.

With her eyes still on his, she opened her mouth and skimmed her tongue around the tip, lapping up the pre-cum that was already leaking. Her tongue swirled and licked before her lips parted around him, taking him in with a hint of suction. She flattened her tongue and bobbed up and down the shaft, slowly easing the length of him into her mouth while bracing her hands on his thighs. He inhaled sharply, his fingers gripping her hair tighter now. She moaned around him, savoring the heavy feel of him on her tongue, the taste of him, and the tension of her hair wrapped in his fist.

He was moaning too, his eyes transfixed on her mouth. He was nodding, encouraging, and vocal - “mmm-hmm” and “yes” and “good girl” slipping from his lips repeatedly - but he still let her control the pace. She worked him deeper, deeper, until she felt him hit the back of her throat. Then she did it again. And again. She held him there for as long as she could, before coming up for air and stroking his length with her tongue once more, over and over.

Now he was groaning with each thrust, feral and animalistic, knowing that she was capable of taking the full length of him. He grabbed her hands off his thighs, taking tight hold of her wrists and bringing her arms up over her head. He bucked his hips, pushing her back flat against the wall again and pinning her arms against it. She couldn’t move. She was trapped and at his mercy as he face-fucked her, rutting his cock as deep as he could down her throat, while she sputtered and gagged on him. She didn’t know how much more she could take.

Without warning, he withdrew from her mouth and pulled her up to her feet by her arms. He turned her to face the wall, his hands positioning hers flat against it before sliding down her body to her back, forcing her to bend at the waist and step her legs backward to assume the position. She knew what was coming next.

His left hand gripped her hip hard, the leather of his glove burning hot on her skin. With his other hand, he set his cock against her entrance, teasing the tip of it up and down her slit. She was already moaning in anticipation.

“This is what you wanted, yes?” he growled. “You want this cock inside you?”

“Yes, Papa. Please…”

“Then take it,” he snarled, pushing all the way into her with one quick thrust. It knocked the breath out of her.

But he didn’t move. He was still, buried to the hilt, giving her a moment to adjust to him. There was an initial hint of pain as she stretched to accommodate his size, but having him so deep inside was exquisite. She clenched around him, her walls throbbing. He leaned over her, his hand coming up to cover hers on the wall, his fingers curling around hers. He peppered quick kisses along her shoulders and the back of her neck. It was unexpectedly tender considering how he was using her just moments earlier…

Until he stood straight again, his hands at her waist, pulling his hips back slowly and then forward into her. His pace was slow and deliberate at first, each thrust dragging along the delicate bundle of nerves deep inside her that he had found with his fingers earlier. She matched his rhythm with her own, pushing back against his thrusts to hit that spot harder, just so.

He snapped his hips harder, his pace intensifying, a jumble of words and groans tumbling from his lips. “Yes dolcezza… yes… f-fuck! So good… brava…. Bellissima…” He wasn’t going to last long at this rate, and neither would she.

His hands left her waist, and in a moment returned. He was holding something soft and silky in his hand. A scarf - the blue cravat he had worn around his neck. Now it was sliding around hers. He laid it taut around her throat and pulled… not too hard, but hard enough to cut off her air. Her right hand went to her neck, trying to grab a hold of it, to loosen it to no avail. He had it wrapped around his fist, twisting it tighter with each thrust of his hips. Her head tilted back towards him, her back arched, and she was seeing stars, gasping for breath. And he was groaning like an animal, his pace frenzied. His free hand fell between her legs, his fingers finding her clit and stroking her hard.

“Cum,” he demanded, “Cum for me now.”

The lack of oxygen dizzied her, enhancing the pleasure in the most brutal and unexpected of ways. One last swipe at her clit and the orgasm slammed her, her hips jerking and her knees buckling in ecstasy.

“P-p-papa…” she choked out.

The scarf loosened and fell away. He leaned forward again, his chest on her back, nipping at her shoulder before biting down hard, sending more ripples of twisted euphoria through her. Both of his hands came to the wall, covering hers with his own as she tried to hold herself up. His hips stuttered, his thrusts erratic. “Mine,” he snarled through gritted teeth, “Mine.” One final, powerful thrust and he spilled inside of her, moaning in pleasure and release.

They lingered there for some time, he still leaning over her back, his hands still on hers, their fingers entwined. Breathless, panting, blissful. Soothing kisses across her back and shoulders, his tongue laving over the tender spot where he bit her.

Carefully, he straightened up, slipping out of her as gently as he could. She whimpered at the loss. He helped her stand, peeling her hands off the wall and massaging her palms and her arms to ease the strain. He turned her to face him and took her in his embrace, planting more kisses to her hands, her fingers, her throat, her mouth - everywhere that had endured his domination. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes as his hands caressed her body and he comforted her with whispered words of praise. “Such a good girl for me, principessa. Mia dolce ragazza. Amore. Mia Bella…”

He kissed her then, soft and sweet. Her hand went to his cheek as she deepened the kiss, his mustache tickling her upper lip before she pulled away, pressing her forehead to his.

“Copia…” she murmured.

She opened her eyes to look at him. It was no longer the skull-painted man. It was the Cardinal. Her Copia.

“Ti amo, Bella,” he whispered.

Izzy bolted upright in bed, gasping. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, her body tingling from the aftershocks of the orgasm she’d just had. She clutched at her throat as if the silk scarf was still choking her.

It took her several moments to come back to reality. The bedroom was dark. Poe was staring at her, annoyed at the interruption of his sleep. She was panting, her hands covering her face, rocking back and forth to soothe herself.

“Holy shit,” she whispered to herself. “HOLY SHIT.”

She flopped back down on her bed, taking a pillow from beside her and wrapping her arms around it as she curled up in the fetal position and tried to calm herself.

“It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream,” she repeated out loud. As if that was going to change anything.

She knew it in her gut, but this all but confirmed it: the skull-painted man she had dreamt about was Copia.

#ghost #the band ghost #ghost fan fic #ghost fanfiction #my fanfic #time zone reblog

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