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superarrowholockianfics · 4 days ago

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This is incredibly self indulgent and I don't care.

Cumulus has been having a stressful time and just needs to relax. Even at a distance, her ghouls come to the rescue. No warnings, contains masturbation, mentions of pillow humping and a threeway eventually.

(for @belle--ofthebrawl, just because :3c)

It's been a rough few weeks at the abbey--the Frater has been on a tear about establishing new rules and routines in his brother's absence--and one Saturday morning it is with a very, very satisfied groan that Cumulus opens her eyes to find the sun already risen.

"Fuuuuuck," she sighs, stretching sore limbs and arching under the covers. Her joints pop, her spine crackles, and a pleased trill escapes the ghoulette when she melts back into the mattress. Snuggles into her nest of silk-cased pillows, curling up on her side and sighing through her nose as her eyes slip shut once more.

It's been so, so long since any of them have had a day off. She's been run ragged since taking over choir management and organ duties from Gale, especially with Copia's demands that they learn half a dozen new songs all at once. She knows Aether's been pulling doubles in the clinic, that Sunshine has been doing her damndest to keep up with the demands of the greenhouse and orchards, that even the siblings have been working overtime to keep things in order under the intensity of their leader's eye.

Buy today, their Frater is gone. Traveling to a sister ministry overseas for a few days, maybe a week. Cumulus would be lying straight through her teeth if she said it was a bother. Not that she doesn't adore Copia, her Papa, but jealousy and undue overcompensation have turned him cold in recent days. She hopes it will even out, that he'll realize none of those he once held so close have turned against him and only want to see him succeed, but for now?

For now, as she drifts between sleeping and waking, Cumulus can't say she minds the break.

It takes a while for the world to really come into focus, for formless dreams to fade and the sound of life in the hall to break through her cocoon of stillness. Cumulus yawns, sneaking an arm out from the covers to rub her eyes and swipe some unruly curls from her face. She stretches once more, purring as her muscles release and tremble, and it's mostly on autopilot that the ghoulette reaches for her phone.

The crazy schedule they've been forced to keep has had another unpleasant side effect; it's been nearly a week since she had the chance to talk to any of her ghouls, and even longer since she's had time to dive into the dozens of texts waiting for her. Cumulus taps the screen and smiles fondly at the photo of her getting a mistletoe kiss from Cirrus last Yule that pops up. She wishes they could talk, but the time difference puts Cirrus in the middle of soundcheck right now so the thought of her beautiful voice will need to suffice. Little butterflies flutter away in her stomach when she does. Cumulus loves that the other ghoulette still does that to her, even just in memories.

Unlocking the phone shows even more messages in her inbox than last night, and, well, it's not like she has much else going on right now. Cumulus rolls onto her back, folding one leg up and crossing the other over it, settling in to catch up on all the things her ghouls have been up to.

The smallest number of messages is from Vesper, unsurprisingly. They got along just fine when their newest ghoulette arrived, but Cumulus could tell she was too preoccupied with Perpetua to pay much attention to the pack. It would come with time, of course, and Cumulus can be very patient. Only half a dozen messages await her here, all pictures; her favorite is of Vesper and Aurora in Dew and Aeon's tophats, with the ghouls in the corresponding veils. Aeon and Aurora were pulling silly faces behind their masks, and seeing Dew and Vesper standing stoic behind them brings a smile to Cumulus' lips.

Gale's texts follow, a series of questions that he mostly answered himself. She's known the band's newest addition for years now, used to go to him for practice session back when she was first summoned. They never grew all that close--Gale is a creature of habit and the life of a band ghoul is anything but even-keeled--but she's sure he's getting on well enough. He and Mountain gravitated towards one another easy as anything, and the few pictures she's gotten from him feature the pair of them. Gale's smiling wide and joyous in every one, and she'd glad to see it.

Up next is Rain. He's not one to spend much time on his phone, not on the road. He prefers to read in what little downtime they have, provided he doesn't have a cock in front of him. Most of his messages are pictures too, scenery more than anything else. A small lake lined with pine trees, shadowed by geese. City skylines, distant, all with names attached. Photos from backstage, of uninhabited uniforms all hung in a row and, of course, a few shots of himself in vanity mirrors. Posing like a princess and showing off tits to match, Cumulus can't help but notice. In some shots she catches a glimpse of the very special bracelet Aether slipped onto his right wrist the day before they departed, and Cumulus reaches to her own throat. The simple silver chain she wears slips through nimble fingers, and the matching one that hangs from Cirrus' neck flashes through her mind.

Cumulus squeezes her thighs together as she taps back to her list of messages, a mostly unconscious movement that still makes her sigh. Mountain's thread is up next, and Cumulus grins at the first text that pops up.

M: thinking of you

The message is sweet enough on its own, but the accompanying photo of Mountain--sitting on a filthy city sidewalk, smiling at a tiny little bright blue flower that managed to grow up through a crack in the cement--makes her heart soar. His other photos (mostly of food, cups of tea and a random assortment of ever-changing flora) feel like home. Like she could sneak down the hall, into a bedroom that forever smells of weed and warm soil, and curl right up in his arms. Like he, like they all aren't thousands of miles away from home. From her.

The last photo from him is also a mirror selfie, bit one of Mountain fresh from the shower. Still dripping, surrounded by steam, one hand in his hair in a not as all subtle effort to flex both his chest and bicep. Cumulus stares at the place his happy trail disappears into an entirely too small towel, and this time her thighs squeeze together all on their own.

It's not much of a coincidence that, the more messages she has waiting in a thread, the more flirtatious they get. Cumulus knows her pack, after all. It's no surprise at all to find more voice messages than anything else in her next list--Aurora's. If there's one thing the little ghoulette can do, it's talk.

She's not just talking, there are clips of her singing too, but even if she was just yapping Cumulus wouldn't complain. She misses her chatty little shadow; Rory had taken to following both her around like a loyal kitten, always eager to have contact one way or another. Holding hands, sitting in her lap, hanging over her shoulders if Cumulus were sitting low enough. Forever talking about anything that came to mind, unless Cumulus made her mouth busy. Mosr of the messages reflect that--streams of consciousness with constant background noise, sometimes alone and sometimes with the others.

Some, though, were meant for her ears only. Whispered midnight confessions of want and need, nearly drowned out by the hum of the moving bus. Cumulus listens with her eyes closed, picturing the little ghoulette curled up in her bunk with a manicured hand between her legs. Murmuring all sorts of filth, about how she saw Rain playing with himself in the shower or how Dew took her over his knee last night. About how she misses sucking Cumulus' tits, a sweet, whimpered admission that makes the ghoulette's nipples stand up straight. She takes a deep breath, one hand slipping under her silky pajama top to toy with one of those stiff buds.

Aurora's last message is a short video, sent the previous night. Just a few seconds of her putting on a very familiar shade of candy red lipstick, puckering up just to throw her a wink and a kiss. Cumulus smiles so wide her cheeks hurt--oh how she misses that mouth...

Aeon's up next, and his messages run the gamut from casual to astoundingly horny. She's not the slightest bit surprised; he's been the one sending her all the pictures of himself chubbed up on stage, after all. He's sent the real thing too--for comparison, the caption reads--in various ways. Shots of his lovely curved stiffy poking out of his uniform zipper, of it spent and sticky against his belly, of it resting in a series of familiar happy trails while he bounced between beds and cocks alike. Little show off.

The nastier shots are interspersed with candids from the road, and the back and forth has Cumulus' head swimming. It's wonderful to see little slices of the life she chose to leave behind, certainly, but now that she's slept and has nothing to do? Well, she can't help but scroll back up to the shots of Aeon's taped fingers wrapped around his straining length and remember how good he tastes after a hot, sweaty night on stage.

A low groan permeates the room when Cumulus slips her hand into her sleep shorts, fingers petting through soft hair. She traces her slit, scrolling thumb pausing over a video from three nights ago. It can't load fast enough, and Cumulus lets out a shivery breath when it begins to play and Aeon's flushed, slack face greets her.

"Almost as soft as you," he huffs, a soft shuffling sound in the background. "Gonna make a big mess for you, Lu."

The camera flips as Aeon bites his lip, and Cumulus moans so softly as she watches him hump a cushy hotel pillow. His cock is so pink, rubbed close to raw and dribbling enough to soak little stains into the white fabric. Aeon whimpers the way he knows she likes best, shaft pulsing as he grips the plush duvet the way he would grope her tits. She pictures his dick rutting between them instead, spitting pre all the way up to her chin, and Cumulus reaches oyt from under the covers just long enough to paw blindly through her nightstand.

"Please, please be charged," she begs the universe, and the grin that splits her face when she clicks the button and her favorite sucking vibrator buzzes to life is voracious.

Cumulus drops her phone just long enough to get two fingers slick with saliva. She knows she's wet, can feel it with every luxurious flex of her thighs, but not enough. She's too warm for the covers now, tossing them aside just enough to free one leg and get herself spread out. Her top has ridden up, exposing the soft swell of her stomach and the underside of one breast, and she doesn't hesitate to shove her shorts down too. To swipe those slippery fingers through her folds, a move that has her hissing. She can't recall the last time she touched herself, let alone had the time to sneak a quick cum with someone else. It's left her oversensitive to the lightest touch, and Cumulus forces herself to take a breath. There's no rush and she knows it, no matter how her clit jumps every time her fingertips trail near it. No need to force it out when she could take her time and enjoy the process.

Cumulus picks up her phone, gets an eyeful of Aeon shooting his load with a hurt cry whine of her name, and the sudden rush of pressure between her legs makes her grunt.

Okay, maybe she doesn't have that much patience.

Cumulus slots the opening of the vibrator over her fat, stiff clit, and can't help her squeak when she clicks it to life. The suction is always intense, and after so much time with nothing she knows she has to be careful. This vibrator may be her favorite, but it's also dangerous--it's been known to make her cum in 30 seconds flat, and she'd hate to rui this golden opportunity. It's not easy for her to go for round two and every part of her knows it.

She almost starts Aeon's video over again anyway.

But there are two message threads left, and they're the ones Cumulus won't let go unread.

Dewdrop has only sent her two fewer messages than Cirrus, but that still puts him next. Their conversations rarely sit anywhere other than raunchy, even if it's a serious topic. She enjoys their endless banter more than a lot of things, loves having a space to always be really horny and kind of gross. Dew clearly feels the same, and the messages she's missed reinforce that. A shot of a gas station labeled Kum & Go. One of a...restaurant? An auto shop? She can't be sure with the name Quaker Steak & Lube. An interstate sign for a place called Intercourse. The sorts of things you'd expect from a teenage boy at best, and every one makes her snort.

The pictures of himself, though, make her throb.

It didn't used to be the case when Aether was on the road, but in his absence Dew has become something of a camera whore. There are shots of him in the shower, on different beds and couches, in every possible position and state of dress. Reflected in mirrors and darkened hotel windows, in and out of uniform, some in nothing but his mask--every one makes her mouth water.

The vibrator ramps higher.

They aren’t pictures alone either; every one comes with his thoughts in the moment, the thing that's gotten him rock hard and leaking all over his own fingers. Or someone else's, in plenty of cases. One shot even has him smearing his tip along Rain's cheek, and Cumulus has to pull the toy from her clit when her encroaching orgasm threatens to suddenly crest.

"Shit," she pants, cupping her cunt with soothing fingers. "Fuck, Dew..."

The ache slowly abates, urgency slipping away, and it's only when Cumulus has caught her breath that the toy gets slipped back into place. Clicked onto the lowest setting, though the ghoulette can't resist turning it up before even a handful of seconds have passed. She's not even halfway through Dew's messages, but can't take her time anymore. Not with the things he's been doing and saying for her, thay she's missed. There are a few videos too, but the way her cunt has started snapping tells Cumulus not to risk it.

After all, she has the most important thread left.

Cirrus has sent her a little of everything. Pictures of food and drinks, scheduling concerns she just need to talk out, backstage moments and long, intense messages that remind Cumulus just how treasured she is. How desired and missed, how intensely wanted. It makes her head spin as much as it makes her hole quiver, and fuck she would give anything to hear Cirrus' voice right now.

Cumulus scrolls, a video sent juat last night pops into view, and her heart skips a beat as she waits for it to load. She turns off the vibrator again, that deep release threatening to burst forth again, but the second the thing starts playing she can't turn it on fast enough.

"Hello my nightingale," her most beloved purrs, and Cumulus' toes curl. Cirrus smiles into the camera, perfectly painted lips parted enough to see her teeth. She's dressed in a simple white blouse, and Cumulus can see the familiar silver chain settled in the valley between her breasts. "We heard you've been working very hard," she says, and Cumulus' ear flicks--we? "And thought you deserved a little treat."

Cumulus holds her breath when Cirrus flips the camera, and absolutely nothing could prepare her for the sight of Dew sitting at the edge of a hotel bed, legs spread wide, with Aurora in his lap--already speared on his cock and flushed in every shade of pink. He's got that sharp chin hooked over her shoulder, nipping at Rory's pale throat and massaging her pert little tits.

"Hey Cu," Dew rasps, and the phone thuds somewhere nearby, steady. Cirrus appears in frame again, and Cumulus realizes this is going to be her view. The vibrator clicks higher, and Aurora gurgles when Dew tugs her nipples. She watches the little ghoulette's clit pulse and feels her own do the same. "Had you on my mind," he says, tucking a curl behind Rory's ear. "Cir did to. Figured we'd show you just how much we miss you."

On cue, Cirrus crawls up onto the mattress. Still fully clothed, she slots herself behind Dew's narrow form and wraps long arms around the pair before her. Aurora manages to melt even further, head lolling back and a gush of slick leaking out to get Dew's tight sack all shiny.

"The little one volunteered," she says, casual as anything. Dew's hands trail over Aurora's ribs, down to her waist, and Cumulus watches her stomach jump under his ticklish touch. Her own belly has started to flex, all of Cumulus' attention caught on her screen and not on the way her body is very quickly beginning to betray her. She's so wet. "I asked if she'd stand in for you, and the poor thing couldn't undress fast enough."

The vibrator ramps higher, buzzing loud and squelching every time Cumulus moves it. The suction has her already large clit so, so stiff, pulsing in time with the base of Dew's cock where it meets Aurora's pretty pink cunt. She watches, entranced, as Dew's wonderful hands grip the undersides of Aurora's thighs. Bony fingers digging into soft flesh, as he plants his feet.

At the same time, Cirrus' elegant digits slip over Aurora's shoulders. Dragging along her collar bones, nails raising goosebumps along her sternum. One hand stays at the center of the little ghoulette's chest, the other drifting down her stomach to the place Dew has her split open.

"Wish we could see her right now, don't you Cir?"

Dewdrop chuckles, sandwiched snugly between the two ghoulettes. He licks a nasty stripe up Aurora's throat and Cumulus swears her own skin burns with it. Her thighs won't stop trembling.

"More than you know," comes Cirrus' yearning, sighed reply, and then she's kissing Aurora with a passion Cumulus can absolutely feel. Deep and slow and with so much tongue, the sort of kiss that steals your breath and makes little cartoon stars dance around your head. There's a visible string of saliva when they part, and Cumulus starts to pant.

"Gonna have to put on the best show we can then, huh?"

Dew lifts Aurora by her thighs, until just his tip remains inside, and the way she yowls when he drops her back down send sparks down Cumulus' spine. In slow motion Cirrus' hands move, one to play at the apex of Aurora's thighs and the other to wrap around her slender throat.

Cirrus squeezes, Aurora's eyes roll, and that's the image burned into Cumulus' mind when her orgasm refuses to be held back any longer.

The sound she makes is high and pained, accompanied by that loud buzzing and Aurora's squeaks of profound pleasure emanating from the phone. It's laying face down on her chest when Cumulus can see again, her tits heaving and the vibrator still pulsing away on the bed between her legs. She reaches down to cup herself again, a cool palm against overheated flesh, and Cumulus can't stop her dumb little giggle when she feels how soaked her sleep shorts are.

Leave it to Cirrus and Dew to make her squirt without so much as laying a finger on her.

Cumulus turns the video off just long enough to snap a picture of the mess she made, and doesn't think twice before sending it off to both of them with a nice little caption:

Q: in case you're thirsty ♡

Cumulus yawns, kicking off her shorts and scooting away from her wet spot. She hugs a pillow, purring gently and already starting to drift.

Distantly, her phone pings, and Cumulus paws around on the bed until she finds it. She's shivering now, tucking herself in again as she tried to get her eyes to focus. It's a text, a picture from Dew. Its caption comes through first.

D: 5 mins til showtime. look what u did.

The picture loads a moment later, and Cumulus snickers at the sight of Dew's very obvious bodysuit boner.

She forwards it to Aether before sleep takes hold once more. It's the least she can do.

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