#skips x reader

[torubae]

∞ skips shadley

tear you apart (headcanons, fluff, smut)

∞ mateo manta

nothing to see here yet, come back soon!

∞ dirk devereux

nothing to see here yet, come back soon!

∞ mitchell linn

nothing to see here yet, come back soon!

∞ dorian

nothing to see here yet, come back soon!

[dersite-day-dreamer]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

hey, hey, what if Soul Eater AU?

[dersite-day-dreamer]

Soft

The living room was bathed in the warm glow of the television, some mindless sitcom playing in the background. You'd lost track of what episode you were on hours ago, but it didn't matter. The real entertainment was the way Skips had gradually melted against you on the couch.

What had started as him sitting beside you had slowly evolved into this—his head resting against your stomach, arms wrapped loosely around your waist, completely content. His transformation from the imposing xxXShadowl0rd420Xxx to this relaxed, affectionate version of himself never ceased to amaze you. Gone was the dramatic vocabulary and intimidating presence, replaced by someone who found pure bliss in simple moments like these.

"You're not even watching," you murmured, running your fingers through his hair as he nuzzled deeper against the soft curve of your belly.

"Mm," he hummed, the sound vibrating against you. "This is better than whatever's on." His voice carried that characteristic chill tone, but there was an underlying warmth that was purely Skips. "You're so soft... Its perfect."

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. Even after all this time together, his genuine appreciation for your body never failed to make your heart flutter. There was no pretense with him, no hidden agenda—just pure, honest affection.

"The show's actually getting good," you said teasingly, though you made no move to adjust your position.

Skips lifted his head just enough to meet your eyes, a lazy smile playing across his features. "Yeah? What's happening?"

You glanced at the screen where the characters were in the middle of some ridiculous misunderstanding. "Honestly? I have no idea. I stopped paying attention when you turned into a cuddle monster."

He laughed, the sound rich and genuine. "Hypocrite. Can you blame me?" His hand traced gentle patterns along your thigh, thumb brushing over the soft fabric of your pajama pants. "I've got the most comfortable person in existence right here. Why would I care about some TV show?"

The casual way he said it, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, made something warm unfurl in your chest. This was what you loved most about this version of him—how he'd shed all those dramatic pretenses and could just be genuine about what made him happy.

"You're such a flatterer," you accused, but you couldn't keep the smile out of your voice.

"Not flattery if it's true." He settled back against you, cheek pressed to your stomach, eyes drifting closed. "This is all I need. Just... this."

The paranoia that sometimes crept into his voice when he worried you might leave was completely absent now. In moments like these, he was just Skips—relaxed, content, and utterly devoted to the simple pleasure of being close to you. Even without the perverted turn it sometimes took.

You let your hand rest in his hair, occasionally stroking through the strands as the television continued its background chatter. Outside, the world moved on, but here in this bubble of warmth and contentment, time felt wonderfully suspended.

"I love you like this," you whispered, barely audible over the TV.

"Like what?"

"Happy. Peaceful. Just... you."

He lifted his head again, and the look in his eyes was so tender it made your breath catch. "I love me like this too," he said softly. "But only because it's with you."

As he settled back down, burrowing against your warmth like he was trying to memorize the feeling, you couldn't help but think about how far you'd both come. From that first intimidating encounter with Shadowl0rd to this—lazy evenings where the most important thing in either of your worlds was the simple comfort of being together.

The sitcom laugh track echoed through the room, but neither of you were paying attention anymore. This was infinitely better than whatever entertainment the screen could provide. At least, it was, until he moved your thighs over his shoulders...

[hashemovitch]

Wear Black, Speak in Colour (Skips Shadley/Reader)

Tags: Monsterfucking, Tentacle Sex, Multiple Penetration, Nipple Play, Anal Sex, Come Swallowing

Chapter 1/2

AO3 Link

"Oh, my penumbra, you’re back! Where’ve you been ?” In an unusual display of sweetness, Skips grabbed you tight around the shoulders, nudging his nose into your neck. Assertion was nothing new coming from him, such that you wondered why he always went red (gold, rather) when he touched you.

Of course it wasn’t what he meant, but sometimes his love was simply too strong. Sometimes, all you could think to do was deflect. “Online shopping to cope with unemployment. You?”

“Oh,” his expression fell. Behind you, deep blue shadows wriggled expressively. “It depresses me when you say stuff like that.”

“Sorry, babe. I’m only kidding, if that helps.”

“I hope so. I know you’re turning that pain into something meaningful.” Skips’ hold on you grew ever tighter while down below something squirmed against your ankle. He noticed you kicking it away — you figured it was a silverfish let loose —, with his serene, closed-eye expression morphing into a scheming grin. “Sorry. They like you.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“Shadows. I can put ‘em away if it bothers you.”

“No,” you said, unsubtly spreading your legs a bit further, “they can stay.”

Skips got the memo. Of course he did. Turning warmer against your skin, he rocked slightly on his heels, humming all the while as if it’d distract you from the tentacle touch making its way up your leg. It paused at your knee to wrap around you, teasing the tender inside of your thigh, making you jump when it made itself comfortable against your clit. “Last chance to change your mind.”

How shady of him, to offer retreat the very moment your nerves turned alight. “Why?” you asked, relaxing into the appendage, “Do you think I can’t handle them?”

Mercifully, he didn’t question you any further; the shadow-tentacle rubbed delicate circles on your clit’s very surface while Skips slid his cold, cold hands down to play with your breasts. His body always ran hot in moments of passion, but for shadow-shrouded reasons beyond your understanding, his hands remained frigid as ever. “They can’t handle you , is all. They’ve never been inside something so– ah! ” he jerked against you, wrapping a foot around your ankle to keep upright, “so tight…” That particular shadow got to prodding your clit curiously; meanwhile, another one had slithered inside you, poking its unexpectedly smooth tip around like it was searching for treasure.

And then, God above, it began to pulse. Anything you could have thought to say, your mind squashed into a long, meaningless, utterly filthy groan. Inside you, Skips’ shadow, growing and shrinking, stretched you distressingly wide. When you bore down on it, his arms tightened around you, with an additional pair of tentacles appearing to support his hold. It trapped your arms at your sides, had you floundering about at every insistent prod down below, every newfound finger-like shadow form announcing its presence by burrowing into the only parts of you left untouched — low down your clit, another at its hood, two in tandem holding your legs too far apart for dissent to be an option.

“Your every noise brings me great satisfaction,” Skips whispered into your shoulder — you held onto a secret hope that he'd bite down, maybe —, “but for now, my most beloved shade, allow me to silence you.” That voice — you recognized that voice. The demonic entity that'd appeared before you all those weeks ago may have been a front, but no less did it make you melt. 

Back then, your greatest fear had been that the Shadow Lord would sense your arousal. Now, you hoped he'd sense just how great it was, how you burst at the seams with enthusiasm at anything his lordship deigned to inflict on you.

How it was you opening your mouth wide to receive the shadow nudging your lips apart.

At first, whilst the shadows inside you increased their thrusting power tenfold such that your body bounced with their force, the one in your mouth merely explored, as if this was just another job, another cavity to fill at its master's command. You went for an encouraging lick, made difficult by your tongue lying trapped underneath the shadow. Judging by Skips’ sudden jolt against your back, though, it wasn't so ineffective as you expected. That very shadow quit stroking the grooves on the roof of your mouth, resuming its path down your throat. It emulated the pulse inside you, though to a lesser extent — disappointing, but fine , he was being mindful not to rupture your throat.

You felt Skips cackle before your mind processed the noise. A vibration emanated from deep in his warm, secure chest, from the body you realised amidst your drowning thoughts was still fully clothed compared to you, dressed in the tatters of what had once been your modest black outfit, a sticky mixture of inky tentacle slick mixed with your own dripping down your thighs.

“My penumbra,” he spoke, a shadow suctioning its underside onto your clit (you couldn't wait to find out how that worked later), “your body is overwhelmed, I know,” oh, he knew. So well that when you ground down onto the stimulation encasing your clit, Skips pulled it away, “but I would like to fill you wholly and utterly. I want to know you inside and out.”

You listened. You listened and you nodded and did your utmost best to thrust out your ass for the final tentacle, who'd slowly begun to circle around your hole, leaving a slimy trail in its wake (not so easy when the rest of you was still getting fucked out of your mind).

Carefully, but with a filthy squelch that made your clit pulse terribly despite how close you were, Skips pulled a tentacle out of your mouth. Your throat was so miserably empty that you wriggled about in frustration, a feat nearly impossible with every square inch of you restrained and filled. “Use your words, oh sweet diviner of my heart. Use them and I shall obey your every command.”

You made to accept his offer, but leftover tentacle slime kept the words inside. The weak cough that came out instead shook your entire fucked-out body; to your satisfaction, Skips squeaked out a desperate “ F-fuck. ” Something hard, up beside the tentacle, nudged at your ass. You'd forgotten entirely that he had needs, too.

With the return of a clear throat, you agreed at long last, only to be quieted again with a rough pump into your throat. The tentacle slipped seamlessly into your ass, already so thoroughly lubricated in its own slick that there was no need for the usual lubrication. Instead of the pulsing you'd expected, however, it fell into a strange vibrating rhythm — more relaxing than stimulating, but you suspected that was for Skips’ benefit; he'd quit the “dark lord” act to grind against you from behind while every one of his shadow tentacles worked your insides, thrusting in all sorts of strange and thrilling and just-slightly painful ways while, muffled but no less controlled, you screamed .

You screamed from overwhelm, from the battering suction tugging each nerve that formed your clit, from the vicious, unrelenting thrusts blocked from gutting you only by your cervix, from the extra set of shadows plucking at your nipples in the absence of Skips’ grounding palms. Every time a tentacle touched your skin, it dribbled a liquid onto you much more viscous than what had been dripping all over the rest of you. This one stung for the most miniscule of moments, but it made your skin so frustratingly sensitive that you simply couldn't stand it. If Skips didn't get his own two hands on you, if he didn't stroke and rub and pinch to his heart's content immediately, you really might have lost your damn mind.

Behind you, Skips’ body burned. His fingers dug into exposed portions of your flesh (the bit of his face that you could see from your position, you noticed, was gold as the sun). There wasn't even enough time to warn you the way he usually might (deliciously flustered, adorably pitched) as, with a final flourish, each tentacle released into you.

It tasted sweet. In fact, the recollection that it tasted precisely like Skips’ own cum was what spurred your own orgasm.

And fuck, was it mind-blowing. There was no time to catch your breath; your vision went white and that was that. Your every muscle, hanging on by the snug thread that was Skips’ arms, contracted into a storm of palpitations, a heated sunburst so cataclysmically powerful it wiped every thought from your silly, useless little head.

By the time your body deflated, you found that your vision still hasn't returned. So much as lifting a finger was a monumental effort, sure, and sweat and cum and all manner of mystery substances dripped like wax from your every pore, and your tongue was too damn sore from being pummeled around your mouth for so long (at least, it felt long), but you tried. Oh, how you tried to express yourself.

“S-say that again, sweets,” Skips stuttered. His voice wavered slightly at the end there — whether that was the effort of holding you up or his own neglected hard-on or the orgasm his own shadow-limb-things had just experienced, you didn't know.

“I can't fucking see!” 

“It's all white?” 

“Yes! Help me!” A snap of the fingers and every shadow withdrew unpleasantly from your body, not unlike a seatbelt whose button had been pushed. It didn't hurt, but you felt empty . Skips wasn't even holding you anymore — he'd placed you on the ground, and though you sensed his presence beside you, you already predicted that the yearning for more tentacles inside you would slowly drive you insane until Skips supplied it yet again.

“Just breathe, baby,” he said, lightly trailing his nails over your side. You couldn't even call it scratching, it was so gentle. “I know that was a lot.”

“It was– hey, I can see again! Nice! Anyway, what was I… um, it was a really good kind of ‘a lot.’”

“Not too much?”

“Noooo.” Skips’ cloud-mass of hair danced in your vision, fuzzy as cotton candy; you curled a blurry strand around your fingers. “I'd tell you if it was.”

Skips, that sweetheart of yours, placed his head on your chest, granting you ever easier access to his soft, soft hair. “Don't get too excited, okay? Even the lord of shadows doesn't have enough energy to keep that up all the time.”

“No problem. I really only want you, in the end.” A hum from Skips introduced comfortable silence, but just then you remembered: “Hey, are you still hard?” 

“It's fine,” said Skips, rolling away from your touch. You hadn't been aiming for his dick like he expected, so your arm merely flopped against his hip.

“Come onnnn, you fucked me up today! The least I can do is jerk you off or something.”

“I'm… That's not necessary.”

Well, you weren't going to push him, but the bright gold dusting his face indicated that he wasn't telling you something . “Whatever,” you dragged yourself closer, hurriedly enveloping him in your arms before he could escape, “stop being so cute and let me spoon you…” you stuck your face in the crook of his shoulder, eliciting a whisper little laugh, “foreverrrrrrrrr! ”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Chapter 2 soon. Stay tuned, squad. HMU on Tumblr for chitchat and requests! My AO3

[loserenjoyer]

dude, wake up...

fluff, realized!skips x gender neutral reader

Trying to wake Skips up in the morning is always a battle... Even though he knows he has to wake up early for its shift, he is still a nocturnal being, and getting used to its new body can take quite some time...

And how come the darkest person you know could sleep so soundly and peacefully by your side? It almost looked like an angel. His cheeks were squishy and its long black eyelashes looked as if they were carefully painted. Seeing it without makeup was a rare experience that only you and he could witness.

Even while sleeping, the umbra continued to pout. However, that wasn't surprising, since he only softened its expression when it came to you.

After bringing yourself close to his face and gently placing a kiss on its forehead, Skips mumbled something undecipherable, his lips softening.

Enticed to kiss him some more, Penumbra started with its cheeks. They were warm and alluring, it was almost possible to feel your lips melting on its softness. He twitched slightly, its eyes tempted to open if it weren't for the drowsiness.

The (now human) shadow lazily placed its arm on your waist, pulling you close to him. Still half asleep, he held you like a pillow, burying its chin in the crook of your neck as he made itself comfortable. Though he was careful, holding himself back to not press too much of its weight on top of you.

Wrapping his arms just below your chest, you could feel your back touching its stomach. Unlike in the past, this new version of him was warm.

"Good morning, penumbra..." His voice was still hoarse and you could feel the hot breath on your ear, "You're cold... Did you sleep well?"

Maybe he'll be a little late for work...

[pinklunarprincess]

To my anon who requested me to elaborate on Skips tying us up with one of his studded belts..... I'm working on it.... it's currently at 1.5k words and no clothes have come off anyones body soooooo LMAOOO I did not mean to make it as long as I have 😭 BUT TRUST! I'm cooking up something REALLL GOOOODDD

[pinklunarprincess]

Such a random thought,

Skips pre-showing his true form

Poor dorky Skips, he’s really just a yearner

Skips watching you eat your comfort food in your bed after a hard day.

He watches as your beautiful beautiful face is lit up by your computer as you indulge in one of your favorite movies

He sees you lift the food to your mouth and oh… OH….

Your eyes roll back in your head as a sinful moan comes from your throat as you eat your comfort food. You lean your head back to really savor the flavor….

Skips is tortured by the sight.

He wanted to be on the bed with you

To trail his lips up and down your perfect neck

He wanted to be the reason you made those beautiful noises

But there he was, peeping in the corner, in the shadows of your room

Wishing to any god (if there even was one) that one day…one day you could curl up next to him after a rough day and let him kiss it all better

But for now, he just watched. A yellow blush dusting over his cheeks and ears.

“One day” Skips promises himself, “one day she will be mine..”

[mellowwmuse]

Putting On a Show

Skips Shadley x GN Reader 🖤 CW: nsfw

Summary: You find out that skips likes to watch just as much as he likes to listen. A/N: small drabble for skips. been wanting to write this since that one interaction (iykyk) 😏

Skips, who can't stop thinking of your embarrassed expression and nervous fidgeting after he told you that nearly the whole house could hear your… nightly activities.

Skips, who totally doesn't habitually wait for these moments with bated breath, his chest heaving and his ears growing hotter with every delicious gasp and moan that falls from your lips and reverb off the walls of the house.

Skips, who definitely doesn't try to picture you as he listens to you in the shadows. Who absolutely doesn't desperately palm himself through his pants while imagining you sweaty and flushed with your arousal coating your fingers and thighs. Because even just the sound of you is enough to send him over the edge.

Skips, who does notice that you’ve been coincidentally turning the lights off earlier in the evening some days after the sun has set. Maybe keeping the curtains closed a tad longer in the mornings.

Skips, who can already feel his pants tightening as he locks eyes with you in the dim hallway one evening as you slowly step into your bedroom and flick the lights after you, plunging the room into a familiar darkness.

Skips, whose luminescent flush is the only source of light in your bedroom as he kneels at the edge of your bed, breathlessly thrusting into his fist as he watches you come undone for the first time.

Skips, who studies and relishes every curve and dip of your body as if he’s trying to memorize it. Who is practically overwhelmed by the sound of you expertly working yourself beneath him, the wet slaps of your hands on your skin, your breathy moans and choked sobs, his name falling from your lips over and over. 

Skips, who is not far behind when your climax finally washes over you. Who drenches your dripping fingers and aching core with his release. Who leans in close to rest his forehead on yours, beads of sweat mixing with your own, and praising you for putting on such a good show for him.

Skips, who practically begs you to let him lick you clean. 

should i make a full fic of this?