#brushes the dust off this ghoul

[sinisterexaggerator]

Hancock x F!Reader [ A03 ]

Summary: You are important to John Hancock; there is a radstorm brewing. As a skilled and reformed scavver, you’re after a part for a decommissioned lounger—it belongs to Doc Amari’s famed Memory Den.

Hancock's tense; he should have gone with you, but it’s not too late to search you out. He would be glad to have you home safe in his arms, only things don’t always go as planned, nor do you go unpunished for your negligence.

Explicit: NSFW / 18+ for PWP, PiV sex, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, whump / hurt and comfort, angst, gun violence, light bondage, praise, light sub/dom undertones, edging, use of chems, alcohol, foul language, and canon-typical violence and behavior. Other worthy mentions include fluff, romance, a worried and protective Hancock, and love confessions.

Notes: I am normally a Star Wars writer. This is my first time writing for Hancock, and my first fic for the Fallout fandom. I see Hancock as multifaceted, which I am having fun exploring. I have many ideas, but one fic can only contain so much! I used a few lines of dialogue from the game because they stuck with me T__T. I will also most likely try my hand at Nick Valentine at some point, (and maybe even Coop), but this ghoul stole my heart.

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Feedback appreciated. Like? Reblog! <3 Requests accepted!

Eyes as black as tar pits searched the ground at his feet, though no answers would present themselves, the cold, grimy filth of the Commonwealth something he could relate to on an atomic level. Flecks of barren soil and bits of detritus vaulted upward in a stagnate aggregate of dust, cavalier leather boots—having seen better days—leaving a swirl of varied particulates in their wake.

Hancock paced, the Mayor of Goodneighbor impatient as a hungry mole rat, the man left to stalk before the door that led to the Financial District. A dreary, dark green pall signaled to anyone with brains that there was a storm looming on the horizon, and yet you had not returned.

“Where the hell is she?” a raspy voice asked its sparse audience, two ghouls dedicated to his cause doubling as bodyguards, though if he felt safe anywhere, it was here among his brethren.  Besides, it wasn’t his safety he was worried about, it was yours, and he wasn’t afraid to convey his feelings to the whole of town.

“Startin’ to get antsy. Gotta hand it to her, she’s got me sweatin’ like a whore in church over this. Hope she’s havin’ fun at my expense.”

Scavenging was lucrative, or it could be if you managed to score the right loot. You had to know where to look, or where not to look; danger was always in the cards. It was a game Hancock didn’t like to play, and especially not now, not when lightning streaked the sky, rain clouds pregnant with radiation threatening to burst open like a feral’s head looking down the muzzle of a sawed-off shotgun.

He knew what it was like to be forced to scour the bare bones of buildings, filching anything that was ripe for the picking. A single find could feed a man for weeks, and places like Goodneighbor just didn’t just build themselves. People needed things. Lucky for them, Hancock was able to provide. It was his one claim to fame—his rep was solid—but he didn’t look down on you for being one to scout for buried treasure.

“She’ll turn up,” one of his companions offered. It was a piteous attempt to console him, Hancock all but ignoring his dismissive comment. He felt his concern was obvious, yet his bedfellows were none of their business. Either way, he brushed it off like a decent man instead of snapping like he wanted to—the guy’d done nothing wrong.

Thunderclaps echoed through town, the first of many droplets pelting his marred face, the ghoul’s faithful tricorn not doing much in the way of shielding him from the dirtied water that had begun to trickle down onto its weathered surface.

He rued allowing you to go out on this wild-mongrel chase to begin with, not to say that you weren’t capable. What he might say is that you’re too good for this world, too good for him, but that hadn’t stopped him from falling head over heels.

You weren’t anti-social like most of your kind; you had a good heart, gave paying customers fair deals, and somehow you had kept the ruins from tarnishing your cheerful outlook; you sported a chipper disposition even at the worst of times.

In other words, you were his little ray of sunshine; Hancock had no qualms with telling you that to your face. And things as precious as you were to him? They needed protecting. It was becoming more obvious by the minute that he should have done the job himself.

“If this is her definition of ‘fast,’ we’re going to need to have a little chat to clear a few things up. Should have fucking gone with her, don’t know what I was thinking,” fried vocal cords scratched out, words tinged with worry as he made his way to the reinforced slab of steel that was Goodneighbor’s single entry point, not counting the alley behind Rexford.

“Maybe you weren’t thinkin’ at all, John…” that little voice inside his head nagged at him, reminding himself at every turn of the ways he’d failed, this on the verge of being one of them.

“Want us to look?” the other rejoined, aware you had been sent out on a job to find a replacement circuit board for Doctor Amari, as one of the memory lounger’s had been marked out of service. The doc would pay you well; everyone’s gotta eke a living somehow. Hers was made by sellin’ a man’s own memories back to him, and yours was made by sellin’ spare parts.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t have skipped out on his Mayoral duties for one evening, Hancock mentally scolding himself, his sentiments leading him toward the need to kick his own ass.

Quick, adept and clever, he had no doubt you could pull it off, but you were used to traveling in a group, used to back up and a lookout. You had willingly ditched your crew and settled here for him, making Goodneighbor more or less your permanent home. He couldn’t help but feel like he was ultimately responsible for you and your well-being—so far, so good. He’d be damned if anything happened to you on his watch.

The coming radstorm was starting to sound like a stampede of angry Brahmin. Not even those of his ilk should be out in this mess. Technically immortal, sure, but not immune to accumulating all that bad stuff brewing in the atmosphere; he was comfy right where he was, but not without his lady by his side.

Their self-elected leader ignored the question, reaching into the confines of his red frock coat to unveil the firepower hidden just out of sight. His break-action, double-barreled 12-gauge had most of its stock removed for easy concealment; he knew better than to step foot outside Goodneighbor without packing heat.

“No, you might say this is a personal problem. Not to say she wouldn’t make a damn fine Ghoul,” he stated with deadly calm, kicking the door open with reckless abandon despite his unflappable demeanor, not caring what awaited him on the other side.

“I’m going with you, ain’t safe,” words spoken over harsh winds, a breeze not in the least bit refreshing having descended upon the Commonwealth as Hancock slipped out into the mounting tumult, both men following close behind. Truthfully, he was grateful for their loyalty.  

“Suit yourself, but don’t go gettin’ yourself killed. Would defeat the purpose of a search and rescue, ya feel me?”

A question not needing a response, he ventured forward, running headfirst into the growing tempest, chaos reigning overhead in the form of a blinding light show.

Hancock called out for you, yelling your name over the deafening commotion that was going to get worse before it got better, not about to go home empty-handed, even if it took the whole damn rest of the night. He hoped you were smart enough to know when to quit, or that you’d taken those Mentats he’d stuffed in your pocket on the way out.

“Get back here, scavver!”

Footfalls echoed in the dark, brisk in pace, inky, depthless eyes narrowing as the ghoul searched out the source. He had taken no more than half a dozen steps before he was forced to witness you at a full-fledged run, two burly raiders belting out insults and expletives hot on your trail.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, but he was stone-cold sober, time standing still as you dove into Hancock’s open arms.

“There’s my girl,” the scoundrel purred into your ear, sinewy limbs enshrouding you as the sound of gunfire and discarded ammo casings nearly went unnoticed. Hancock let his own weapon fall to the ground to accommodate you, your pursuers dispatched like the trash they were. The members of the Neighborhood Watch who had accompanied him outside the walls made short work of both men; they deserved a drink and some chems on his dime.

“John,” you breathed out, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling with mirth as you held up that piece of scrap you were so proud of. His name off your tongue was musical, a warm sensation spreading through him like wildfire, better than drugs—it was a high he would never come down from.

“I—I got the part,” you spoke softly, your tepid breath tickling the remnants of a disfigured ear.

Hancock almost shivered.

But oh, no. He wasn’t about to let you off that easy, not when he’d felt that pang of anxiety and the sickening feeling in his gut like someone had shanked him with his own knife. He held you back by the shoulders, breaking your embrace, his face taking on a displeased, stern shade.

“What’s wrong with you, huh? Makin' me all kinds of nervous. Scarin’ me half to death. And some might say I don’t look too far off.” He breathed in nice and slow, exhaling through exposed nasal cavities, Hancock emitting a sigh to emphasize his disappointment. “Can’t be doin’ things like that, or you’re liable to give this old ghoul a—”

“—Sunshine?” His heart sank, as if the universe was out to prove he had every right to worry, Hancock’s attention inexplicably drawn to the red staining your fingers—it neared the color of his coat. You only now seemed to notice, that radiant light swept from your beaming face as you acknowledged the presence of your own blood on your hands; no wonder it had been so hard to take those last few steps.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, eyes blown wide as you apologized for upsetting him. You would collapse into a heap, the adrenaline that had carried you home seeming to dissipate all at once—at least your fight-or-flight response had done its duty.

---

“Move over, out of the way. I ain’t askin’ twice,” Hancock seethed, the distraught man’s threat to bowl over anyone who stood in his way not to be taken lightly, though his tone was traitorously even and his despondency well-masked. He stormed the Old State House, ascending the spiral staircase to the second floor, carrying your limp body to a tattered red couch.

Refuse and empty Jet inhalers, along with half-drunk bottles of alcohol and boxes of Mentats, were all swept aside, Hancock throwing open cabinet doors and dislodging drawers in his haste.

“Oh, you’re really in it now, aren’t you, sister? Just had to make a few extra caps!” he chided, the ghoul’s husky voice rising in volume as he took to another part of the room.

Having not yet succumbed to blood loss, you were barely cognizant as you fought to stay awake, your beloved Mayor nothing more than a blur of motion and splotches of red as he systematically searched every nook and cranny for the syringe that would save your life.

“Hang on, dollface, you’re not dying today. Not if I have anything to say about it—and you know how much I love to run my mouth.” Hancock spoke to reassure you and himself, filling the silence with something other than the curses he wanted to dish out every which way to the wind. You couldn’t help but to smile again despite your predicament, eyelids drooping as you thought about the idea of sleep.

“There you are,” he growled, your vision starting to glaze over, though you were aware Hancock had come back to your side. His scarred, yet deceptively handsome face hovered inches above your own; it was an acquired taste you had no trouble in accepting.

“This is gonna hurt, but it’s better than the alternative,” he provided in short warning, withered fingers fumbling to unbutton your top, exposing first your sternum, your ribs, and then your belly.

“Shit, they got you good,” Hancock grumbled, your hand rising to cradle his jaw as he had peeled back the flaps of fabric to inspect the wound in your side. You were surprisingly calm, thinking that if today was your last day on Earth, at least you had been blessed to experience his company. 

“I’m glad it’s you here with me,” your voice, meek and mild, declared. Hancock hesitated for one precious second, caught off guard, but pleasantly so.

“Don’t go gettin’ sentimental on me! Ain’t like these are your final moments or nothin’,” he assured, an audible tremble causing his words to waver, voice rising in pitch. He went on to stab you without ceremony, the needlepoint of a stimpak and its revitalizing medicine at once injecting itself into your damaged flesh and pulsing through your bloodstream.

You moaned in pain, hips arching as you lifted slightly up off the cushions before you settled once more, allowing yourself to finally relax as Hancock watched the regenerative process take hold, much to his relief.

---

You awoke, finding yourself supine atop a mattress, with Hancock crossed legged on the floor beside you. He had brought it down from upstairs, wanting you to have somewhere more comfortable to recover; the drifters weren’t using it, but he was sure he could scrounge another one up should the need arise.

The door was shut, the rest of the room empty, the man teetering off the edge of a high he wished he could prolong; he had pumped himself full of all those things that made him feel better. Riddled with guilt, he had imbibed both chems and alcohol, his body slightly swaying from left to right as he could not sit entirely still, yet he was too far off in his own head to notice you had come back to him.

You shifted, realizing he had draped his frock across your body to act as a temporary blanket. This simple gesture caused a flutter behind sore ribs, biceps activating so that you might push up and rest on the flat of your palms.

John was idle, near-dead to the world, eyes closed as he kept up that gentle rocking, back and forth, as if lost in music or in deep meditation. You only desired to watch him, studying the intricate, striated patterns of his ravaged flesh, gazing over the hollow of his once human nose, and admiring his sullied, foppish tunic that was a part of his infamous ensemble.

While some might consider him a monster, he was a being of light. He had superficial, obvious flaws, but he was no more guilty of sin than anyone else in this day and age. He was a beautiful soul, inside and out, and your opinion was the only one that mattered to you. Hancock always tried to do the right thing—it’s what drew you to him—even if that meant taking out a few loose ends. 

Your heart stirred, natural chemical processes taking hold that would prompt you to touch him, your hormones dictating that you wanted this man carnally.

The ghoul’s eyes bolted open as you shuffled forward on your behind; you set his coat aside almost reverently, folding your legs like his, knees brushing as you leaned forward to kiss his wiry lips. Soft flesh against textured skin, rough in comparison, felt no less wonderful, Hancock groaning out a throaty sound of appreciation as he slowly shut his eyes again.

That was all the encouragement you needed, pressing closer, crawling onto Hancock’s lap as his hands found the meat of your ass to give it a squeeze. “Someone’s feelin’ better…” he quipped, allowing himself to lie back on the floor. His smile was lackadaisical and content, his touch roving to your thighs as he gazed up at you, noting you were tugging off your already unbuttoned top to reveal your shapely breasts.

“How’d a guy like me get so damn lucky…” he drawled, Hancock’s normally assertive way of speaking temporarily replaced by a calming cadence—it was dreamy—his indolent tone arousing your most base instincts.

You didn’t answer at first, thinking you’re the one who’s lucky. You had wanted and needed a change of pace, not happy with the way your business partners were operating, willing to bring death to others in order to get what scrap they could. You only took things from the ruins, or from those who deserved to be robbed, the idea of senseless violence proliferating thanks to people like your ragtag group something you decided you couldn’t live with.

You’d come to Goodneighbor looking for work; Hancock had been willing to give you a chance, and you didn’t disappoint. After a few heady conversations and risqué flirtations at the Third Rail, you had wound up in his arms—a place you found yourself never wanting to leave.

“I could ask you the same question,” you finally muttered, grazing his mouth, kisses repeating, small pecks placed from one side to the other in a physical show of adoration. The ghoul laughed a wry, salacious little laugh, head turning to allow for this impromptu bout of affection, stretching one arm out behind his head to act as a pillow as he relished the attention.

Then, his smile faded, the chem’s effects lingering like background radiation, less intense than before—the high lasted mere minutes if that, his faculties gradually returning. The hand left free gingerly touched your side, just below where he had administered the stimpak hours earlier. Concern was apparent in glistening eyes, so dark and lovely, starry pupils reflecting the faint luminescence of his surroundings.

“Not lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he promised, every shred of levity fleeing to be replaced by austerity, low, somber notes causing a visceral reaction as the onset of something warm and fuzzy spread throughout your core.

“Bein’ out here with me? Means you don’t gotta work, but I should have had your back, sunshine. Ain’t got no excuse.”

“You can have me on my back,” you playfully retorted, the simple suggestion unleashing a purr from the bowels of the ghoul’s throat. The idea of being a kept woman pleased you, but you were more interested in pleasing him.

“You better watch your mouth, or I can’t be held responsible for all those things I’m going to do to you,” Hancock countered. He talked big game, but he was still feelin’ shook. He didn’t want to risk getting too frisky on the off chance your body needed more time to heal; you were only human, after all.

“I’m shaking in my boots,” you simpered. Hancock was quick to snark back.

“I know that’s a lie, ‘cause you’re not wearing any.”

You gasped as Hancock flipped you without warning, pinning both your wrists to either side of your head. He drank in the smooth, supple flesh of your curves, hungry eyes making damn sure to get their fill.

He couldn’t stop himself, exploring the swell of a perfect tit, Hancock’s mouth becoming newly acquainted with the sensitive flesh of your nipple. He flicked its pert tip with the point of his tongue; you brazenly rolled your hips as you tried to contain the lewd sound that threatened to escape you.

“I double dog dare you, ” you tempted, not in the least bit afraid of what he might have in store.

Hancock didn’t take the bait.

“Don’t want to hurt you, love, but let’s say I give it to you nice and slow… Or as slow as I can give it; hard to keep promises, lookin’ the way you do,” he argued, ruined lips applying pressure as he began to suck, his growing erection gently grinding into the meat of your thigh.

“You won’t hurt me.” You shuddered as he pulled back, gazing into murky, otherworldly eyes, their glow hypnotizing. You half-assed a struggle, wanting to pull your hands free if only to touch him, Hancock chuckling mildly at your efforts.

“Don’t be so sure, ‘cause I got a hankerin’ for human,” his voice dropped emphatically lower, toying with you, his dire inflection sending tingles down your spine. Coming from a ghoul, most people would run the other way, but you knew from experience, Hancock had a twisted sense of humor—it was something you loved about him.

“Eat me,” you jeered, snapping your teeth playfully like some creature that roamed the wasteland, Hancock pulling his head back just enough to satisfy you, as if he had a nose to bite off to begin with.

“That’s the plan, sister,” he snickered, finally releasing his grip on your arms.

You took the opportunity to take hold of Hancock’s already tousled vest, guiding him down to meet your lips. Your fingers busied themselves with its unbuttoning as the ghoul had his hands full, cradling the plump, healthy tissue of your blushing cheeks in the crooks of his palms.

Hancock fed a grating moan into your mouth before asking a pointless question he already knew the answer to, not one to miss out on a chance to have his ego stroked. “Somethin’ about me.. turnin' you on? Don’t know why you’d go for this ugly mug,” he conceded, fishing for a compliment. 

“You. You turn me on,” you whined plaintively, “everything about you,” you confessed, furling your tongue around his, willing him to shut his trap long enough for you to kiss him properly. He aided in the undressing, whipping his sash off in one fell swoop, an idea blossoming only to come into fruition shortly thereafter.

“That why you’re actin’ so desperate for me?” Hancock laced that bit of ragged flag around both your wrists, constricting them once more, his own arm extending to tauten its hold. He wouldn’t give you the chance to kiss him the way you wanted to, cinching its loose ends around the legs of the coffee table just behind your head, giving it a good tug to make sure you couldn’t break free.

In reality, it would have been easy to wiggle loose, but he knew you were the type to play along.

“What are you doing?” you asked, feigning alarm. The ghoul only grinned a shit-eating grin, crawling backward across your lap to adjust to a better position for his next course of action. 

“Makin’ sure you can’t skip out on me,” he said matter of fact, a mischievous lilt to his voice, “gonna have to punish you for all that worryin’ you made me do.” 

“But, Hancock—” you protested, realizing he was barring you from the one thing you wanted—full access to his person, unable to grope and caress all those parts of him you were so eager to touch and kiss.

“—Hmm?” he hummed, the bastard having the nerve to stand. He left you in a recumbent position with hands tied, unable to do anything but gaze up at the seductive set of motions he was now subjecting you to.

The ghoul painstakingly unfastened the remainder of his buttons, wizened digits fondling each in turn, his manner suggesting something that for now would remain unspoken. Then, Hancock shrugged his vest off, allowing his arms to hang as the garment dropped silkily to the floor. It was followed by a festooned shirt, leaving the man bare chested and amused; he wasn’t sure you had blinked even once.

“Like what you see?” he asked lazily, tracing a line across his gaunt pecs toward his navel with the curl of a finger, black eyes glinting impishly at the sight of you jostling your wrists as you failed to liberate yourself.

“Yes,” you breathed out shamelessly, unable to deny the effect his little striptease had on you. This in and of itself was torture, finding his brand of punishment entirely unfair.

“Good,” Hancock crooned, doing the unthinkable as he vanished from view. He even went so far as to walk beyond your peripheral vision. Instead, you were reduced to listening out for him, the ghoul shuffling around somewhere behind you. 

“John,” you whined, sitting up and scooting back against the coffee table the best you could. You endeavored to crane your neck, hearing the clink of glass preceding other innocuous sounds, the gentle thud of Hancock’s boots echoing across the rotting floorboards as he made his way back around. 

“You can say my name all you want to, princess, but it ain’t gonna change a damn thing,” Hancock stressed, words clawing their way out of cracked pipes as he nudged your knees apart with his foot; he knelt between your legs, a dispenser of Jet in one hand, and a dose of Rad-X in the other. “Open wide,” he instructed. 

You should have known what he’d been after, the drug-addicted ghoul popping the lone anti-radiation capsule inside his mouth after dispensing a heavy spray of the illicit substance into his lungs; its potency was limited in his case, but you were easily susceptible to its high. 

You gratefully obeyed, wanting any excuse to be close to him, Hancock’s silver tongue molesting you as easily as it had persuaded you to listen. He deposited the pill into your mouth, kissing you deeply, your beloved Mayor giving you a shotgun of thick, odorous chems without so much as a single protest on your part. 

Your heart thrummed, Jet leeching its way into your bloodstream to trigger a bodily response via your nervous system. In the meantime, you had almost forgotten to swallow your dose of Rad-X, Hancock prompting you by trailing the full length of your throat with a single, sallow finger. 

He massaged it down, feeling for the activation of those muscles that would help ferry it along, his thoughts drifting to the memory of his cock once upon a time being slopped on by the wet whorl of your tongue. His prick had throbbed almost painfully, sequestered snugly inside your zealous gullet, the powerful suction of your hollow cheeks threatening to wrench his soul from his body, or it sure as hell had felt that way.

He was drawn back to the present moment by the look in your eyes, your pupils dilating to rival the circumference of dinner plates. You gazed at the man before you; Hancock pulled back the edge of your bottom lip, exposing your gumline, the ghoul snaking another of his fingers inside your partially open mouth. 

The slender extremity would bypass your blunt teeth, saturating itself in your saliva. Even in this state, you had the wherewithal to pucker up, intaking that explorative digit to the knuckle, your plush maw behaving like a deluxe pre-war vacuum cleaner. 

The ghoul shuddered, though keeping his cool intact, lost in the depths of your unwavering stare. He slowly slipped back out, releasing your lip for it to snap gently back into place, Hancock satisfied with the knowledge you had swallowed the pill.

“Look at you, bein’ such a good girl for me,” Hancock praised, speaking in a low, sultry whisper. You did not reply, your desire for the man at its all-time high, that warmth in your belly having spread to complement the unparalleled ache of your loins.

“Hancock,” you whimpered, once more tugging at the cloth that bound you. You felt delirious with longing, your heart racing as you saw stars, euphoria overtaking all of your senses. You pushed forward, halted partway by that fucking flag that had you fettered like some common criminal, too blazed to even think about squirming loose. 

“Please,” you begged, lips reaching for his. Hancock evaded you, trailing a divot devoid of cartilage across your sateen cheek, directing it toward your lovely, intact nose. 

“Please, what, sister?” he ruthlessly teased, watching as your tongue tried to skirt his teeth; its vertex barely met its goal. Still, Hancock would return the gesture with a sweep of his own, flitting his against yours, inhaling deeply the scent of Jet off your breath as he was suddenly consumed by an almost feral need to taste your neediness—it was nearly palpable. 

“Please.. touch you? Please kiss you? Please.. fuck your pretty little hole?” he asked in a derisive tone, though his movements were languid, Hancock in no rush to oblige you, even as his veiny hands glided over every inch of your sleek skin.

“Is that what my little ray of sunshine wants?” the ghoul taunted, moving to unbutton the clasp at the top of your pants, then pinching the pull of your zipper, teeth parting to reveal clean cotton. You were nearly embarrassed by how damp your panties were, the chems only making your arousal ten times worse; Hancock wasn’t helping matters, a lecherous moan reaching your ears as the man slid back and realigned himself, bending forward to bury his face in the moist outline staining your skivvies.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet—” he marveled breezily, “—is it all for me?” Hancock rasped, nipping you through the fabric, a desiccated finger tucking itself into its elastic hem. Hancock dragged it down just far enough to expose your sweet-smelling sex, the ghoul’s tongue slithering easily between slick folds. 

You inhaled a disjointed gasp for breath, voice cracking as you cried out in ecstasy, Hancock having barely swiped your thrumming clit. That alone was almost too much, your hips bucking beneath him of their own volition as you pleaded with him to keep his promise.

“Don’t tease,” you sighed, naked breasts rising and falling with every labored breath. Hancock’s eyes traveled up your fine as fuck body before meeting your gaze, a twisted hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his ghoulish mouth. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he snickered, fingers grasping the entirety of your waistband to help you shimmy off your bottom layer of clothes. Your hips wriggled all too desperately, overjoyed to finally be free of their constraints. 

“But that’s not fair!” you entreated, unabashedly spreading your legs in the hopes of providing him a suitable meal, ready and willing to be devoured if you could only convince him to take the plunge.  

“And why not?” he asked in all seriousness, nuzzling into the lush flesh of your labia as his silky tongue entombed itself, gathering your moist heat from its source. He dipped back out to your chagrin—you had inhaled sharply in preparation only to be left disappointed—Hancock licking a stripe to the cusp of your throbbing bud. 

“Because I’ll die,” you replied, overexaggerating, writhing in bliss, albeit temporary; Hancock seemed out to drive you mad, retracting once more to glance back up at you, reedy lips downturned in a disapproving frown. 

“No, you won’t,” he asserted, voice taking on a sobering, sincere quality; even if you were being hyperbolic, after the events that had just transpired, Hancock didn’t find it funny, resolving to dine on you good and proper, as if it would be the thing to save your life. 

“I—” You were cut off mid-thought, lightning crashing thunderously outside, the ghoul introducing two coarse fingers into your clenching cunt as the radstorm raged on. Hancock’s neck sank low as you arched your hips, the flat of a thick tongue bringing you toward rapture as he succinctly lapped your clit in delicious combination, playing you like some Old World violin. 

“Aren’t you glad you’re trapped in here with me instead of out there cookin’ alive?” Hancock asked offhand, digits curling to find the seat of your pleasure, warm, wet muscle dancing slow, precise circles across your sensitive nerves. You halfheartedly yanked at your bindings once more, wishing for nothing more than to ravish him like a woman starved, deprived of sustenance. 

“Yes, yes— please, just like that,” you answered, urging him on, the man encouraged to keep at it, long, languorous strokes titillating you toward release.

Then, he simply stopped, fingers glossy upon exit, Hancock sucking your slick clean off with a scarecrow smile, tilting his head like a curious animal as you bemoaned your plight, left to suffer on the edge of an orgasm. 

“Relax, I ain’t through with you yet,” Hancock remarked, lifting himself up to a seated position on his knees. You whined indignantly, made to watch as he unbuckled and unzipped his own pants.

The rogue stood completely, giving you another show, kicking one boot off after the other before slinking out of the rest of his clothes. 

You took a moment to admire him, skin pockmarked with scars, deep pits of tissue missing where cells had inevitably healed all too quickly, John a mosaic of gnarled, misshapen flesh and keloid. Yet he was so handsome, charming, and cavalier, the man leaving nothing on but his tricornered hat, returning to his previous enterprise by way of interring his roiling tongue into your aching center. 

“Oh, John,” you murmured, voice hushed, the man’s thumb working itself concentrically atop your little pearl. 

For once, he was quiet, his strokes inside you meticulous, the nearly silent room filled with a plethora of obscene sounds as he feasted on you like a Yao guai over a fresh kill. Just a little attention was all it took, nails digging into the palms of your tied hands as you twisted beneath him, vocalizing loud enough you were sure the whole State House would hear.

A shiver rocked you to your core, riding out your climax for as long as you could stand it. You were unable to push Hancock’s head back even if you wanted to, the ghoul finding a new way to punish you, continuing to stimulate your already oversensitive clit. 

“Hancock, please—” you begged him under different circumstances, the ball of your foot gingerly pushing against his blatant hard-on. The ghoul finally let up just enough to chortle dryly, obviously nonplussed.

“Done already? Thought we were just gettin’ this party started,” he flouted, sitting up properly, probing fingers caressing the curve of your slit as they trailed upward, ghosting over your navel to tweak your nipple. They didn’t stop there, reaching just behind you to nab a cigarette off the edge of the coffee table, your expression giving away your confusion as he struck a match to ignite the end.

“No, John— you’re supposed to fuck me!” you berated, another devious little chuckle let loose from wilted lips. The ghoul inhaled a deep drag of nicotine laced with radiation, though the amount contained therein was so trivial he didn’t bat a lash—not that he had any.

He gazed at you through a thin veil of smoke exuded from eroded nasal passages—a short burst of pressure from his lungs propelling it outward—a freakish sight to some, but you had grown accustomed to it. 

“So, that is what you want,” Hancock digressed, snubbing the end of his cig on the floor after a few more laggard puffs. The Jet was wearing off, Hancock having already sobered completely, its side effects leaving you feeling used-up and exhausted. Hancock had forgotten what it felt like to come down from such an intense high; you pouted pathetically up at him.

“Baby,” you whined, immediately capturing Hancock's attention. He dropped the act, eyes softening around the edges, colorless voids somehow the most expressive you had ever seen them.

“What is it, sunshine? Feelin’ all right? Need somethin’ to take the edge off?” he asked gently, concern present in his tone, the ghoul finally being kind enough to reach over your head to free you from your bindings. 

“I need you,” you implored, your speech sounding childishly irritable, tired, heavy arms lifting to wrap themselves around John’s neck; you couldn’t help yourself, having been prohibited from touching him for what felt like hours, when in reality it had only been a short length of time. 

“I’m all yours,” Hancock vowed, whisking a stray strand of your hair away. A soft kiss was pressed into even softer lips; the man was two sides of the same coin, like night and day. Part of you prayed you would never cross him, his temper volatile, like an active volcano lying dormant until such a time the right conditions were met, inevitably causing an eruption. 

But he was also kind, genuine, and a good person, only wanting to make the Commonwealth a better place; he held within him a righteous anger, and for good reason, determined to stick by him through thick and thin. 

"Nice and slow?" you asked, bringing the conversation full circle, ushering the ghoul down on top of you as you laid back, gazing up with heavy-lidded eyes. He searched your face, as if double-checking for something, needing to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that nothing was wrong—you were only sulking. 

“You got it, sister,” Hancock replied coyly, the fullness of a finger returning to you as he tested the waters; you were still so unbelievably wet. It was a stark contrast to the dry, desolate landscape that stretched for miles just beyond his little town, the ghoul humming in gratitude as you kissed him once again. 

You wasted no time, slipping your hand between the depression of your bodies where hip meets hip, his weight a warm, inviting presence that comforted you like nothing else. Your fingers toyed with his variegated shaft, thumbing a bead of loosed pre-cum to moisten its tip; Hancock moaned lustfully as he buried himself deeper into the column of your throat, teeth raking tender flesh, barely withholding the intention to bite.

“I’m thinkin’ you must be the single best thing to ever happen to me,” Hancock confessed in a dulcet whisper, voice quavering with emotion as you carefully escorted his cock inside you, one delicious inch at a time. Jagged breaths found their way into your ear, distorted, ribbed flesh, more than adequate in length and girth, stretching you open, a subdued sound of longing and relief birthed from parted lips. 

“I love you,” you blurted out, unable to keep your feelings at bay, any and all movements ceasing before they had wholly begun.

You had closed your eyes; they fluttered open, fear wheedling its way inside your heart as Hancock gazed at you in silence. You cursed yourself, having never before expressed such a sentiment out loud, unsure how the man would take it, or if he even felt remotely the same—all signs pointed to yes, but you refused to be presumptuous. 

Then, he pushed up into your tight cunt with one slow, smooth stroke of his cock along your anterior walls, stimulating your G-spot. Pleasure radiated through you as you emitted a stilted breath, Hancock cradling your cheek, resting his forehead against yours to stare penetratingly into your eyes.

“Took you to be smarter than this, but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that,” he breathed against your lips, slipping a motile tongue into your mouth, wanting to desperately deepen your connection. 

You readily accepted, your own tongue writhing and contracting in unison with his, heart beating fervently behind a wall of blood and bone. Your fingers clawed and grasped at his narrow shoulders and the tendinous flesh of his back, exploring every inch of your ghoulish lover, from head to jutting hipbone.

Hancock drove his cock into you, back and forth, keeping a steady, equal rhythm like the beat of a drum. “Why now?” he asked, voice tempered, each pump of his thick prick inside you unhurried and sensuous.

“Nearly dying may have had something to do with it,” you jested in-between indecent, muted moans, Hancock’s deliberate pace driving you toward orgasm. The arm not supporting his weight curled tightly around you. He clutched you to his chest, and you wrapped your thighs around his waif thin waist in return. 

“Mmn.. that it?” Spindly fingers moved to grip the back of your head, digging into tufts of your hair; your back bowed to support you in joining with him more fully, Hancock massaging your scalp as he massaged your insides, debauch, rich sounds filling both your ears.

“And because I have nothing to lose,” you reluctantly answered, breath picking up speed as you pushed back against firm, rawboned pectorals with the palm of your hand; you had the intention of arranging yourself at just the right angle to please— a simple slant of your hips would make things all too easy.

Within moments, you came, pinpricks of light overwhelming your senses. You were elated, as if your consciousness had been overtaken by a nebulous cloud of love and electromagnetic radiation, a soul set adrift in a swirling haze of thoughts, feelings and emotions that would amalgamate into something beautiful—it caused you to cry out a sound of intense, heartfelt bliss. 

Your mind went blank, only registering that John had simultaneously shared in the experience. It would take you both a moment to calm.

Then, you squeezed Hancock tightly between your legs, a signal for him to not withdraw, but to stay awhile, the tension in your body settling as you laid back down.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Hancock would smother you with his scant weight, caressing the point of your chin, his thumb snaking across your bottom lip. He gave a faint exhalation of breath, the concave outline of his nasal cavity grazing the convex shape of your nose; it tickled.

“Nothing to lose but each other.”

[miasmaghoul]

Mushy May 2k24

(Thanks to @forlorn-crows for once again organizing this, I'm smooching u ♡)

Day 1: Cuteness Aggression

Rating: G

Pairing: Mountain/Rain

Word Count: idk not many I wrote this on mobile lmao

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

"Rain?" Mountain raps two knuckles against the other ghoul's bedroom door. "Rain, are you up?"

Mountain scuffs a slippered foot against the stone floor while he waits for a response, watching dust motes catch in the morning light. When Rain doesn't answer, he shifts the tray balanced on his free arm closer to his elbow, careful not to jostle its contents when he reaches for the handle.

"Don't know why I bother," Mountain sighs to himself, nudging the door open with his hip. "You could sleep through the end of the world if we let you."

Despite his grumbling, Mountain still makes sure the door closes as silently as possible. Plunges himself into relative darkness when the latch clicks, thanks to the blackout curtains covering Rain's windows. Mountain blinks to adjust while he sets the tray down on Rain's cluttered desk, covering up a quick yawn.

"Rain?" He tries again, quieter than he was on the other side of the door. Tiptoeing closer to the massive four-post bed between the windows and the pile of blankets it holds. The pile that's emitting soft snores Mountain can just make out over the artificial thunderstorm coming from Rain's white noise machine. He ducks down when he reaches the far side of the mattress, peering into the pile of deep blue bedding. "You awake, angelfish?"

It's useless, gets him nothing but a half-snort, but from where he's standing now he can see -

"Well this is just unfair."

Rain's got himself wrapped in who knows how many plush blankets, no part of him visible save for that lovely face and a few stray curls that have fallen over his forehead. He's curled up on his side, the covers drawn up around his ears and soft lips parted just enough for Mountain to catch a glimpse of crowded fangs. He's drooling a little too, just enough to stain his pillowcase. There's a plush shark bundled up with him, its nose smushed up against Rain's pointed chin, and the whole picture is so adorably enchanting that Mountain can't contain himself.

He starts with little touches - those few exposed curls, the cool skin of his forehead, the slope of his nose - and Rain rewards him with little twitches that do nothing to help the warm fullness in his chest. Mountain simply has to pinch his cheek. There's no other way.

"Gngh," Rain gurgles, burying his face in his shark and cracking one eye open just enough to see who could have possibly disturbed his slumber. "Mou'n?"

The way his voice is muffled by the stuffed animal is the last straw; Mountain's around the bed in half a breath, kicking off his slippers and crawling in to spoon up against the smaller ghoul with a purr in his chest. He sneaks a long arm under the blanket mound until he finds a bony hip, and then he's grabbing onto that narrow waist with greedy fingers.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he greets as Rain squeaks, nuzzling the back of his neck through the blankets. The other ghoul groans his protest, but doesn't move a muscle otherwise. Simply lets Mountain more or less manhandle him closer to his chest, still snuggled up in his cocoon.

"Hate mornings," Rain complains, unconsciously pawing around for Mountain's hand under the blankets. Dragging it up so they can both hug that oversized shark. Mountain grins so wide his cheeks hurt. "Why'd you make me wake up?"

"Brought you breakfast." Mountain gets his teeth into the duvet covering Rain's head and tugs it down far enough to be able to nose at the one tender spot behind his ear. "I made crepes."

Rain hums a low mmm and Mountain feels the scaly end of Rain's tail wrap itself around his calf. He chuckles to himself, nipping at the other ghoul's pointed ear.

"But you look so sweet," he mumbles, thumb brushing up under Rain's sleep shirt, "I might just have to eat you instead."

Mountain buries his face in Rain's throat, blows the world's loudest raspberry, and the sound Rain makes is almost as cute as he is.

[wrathofrats]

Day 16- first kiss- rulti

Thanks to @forlorn-crows for the prompts and @gothdaddyissues for the divider!

“Dew kisses like he’s trying to suck the air out of my mouth” rain laughed, “I give him points for passion, he’s definitely enthusiastic”

Rains feet are kicked over Swiss’s lap on the love seat. He leans against the armrest idly snacking on a cheap bag of chips while Swiss leans his opposite way against the other rest. They’re comfortable, a soft warmth while they sit with each other just for the sake of talking.

“Mountain looks like he would be better at it” Swiss commented as he tried to count the patterns in the worn fabric of the couch.

“Oh he’s much better, I love dew but I swear mountain could probably make me cum from his lips on mine alone”

Swiss visibly winces at the lewd description. He doesn’t mean to, doesn’t mean to stare at rains legs in his lap as if they’re the most interesting thing in the world. As if the worn sweatpants contained the secrets to his personal dilemma.

“You ok swissy?” Rain stopped, putting his snack on the side coffee table. He dusted off his pants before nudging the multi ghouls stomach with his knee.

“Yeah, completely. Why?”

“You just look uncomfortable, if that was too much I’ll tone it down”

Rain drags himself closer to Swiss, playfully attempting to cuddle into his side while Swiss tries not to look like he’s actually pouting.

“It’s not that, you’re fine”

“Well it’s obviously something, you can tell me anything”

Swiss nervously chewed on his lip, internally debating with him. It’s not like it should be embarrassing, he was new, as everyone else was. But a weird part of him burned with shame even in front of rain, who he knew he could trust.

“I’ve just .. never kissed anyone” Swiss mumbled, pushing rains legs off of him while rain moved sit up straighter.

Rain gave a small chuckle, looking at Swiss with confusion, “really? No one?” Rain asked, in borderline disbelief. It’s not like there was anything wrong with it, but with how confident Swiss acts and how he seems to flirt with anything that walks, rain was more than sure that Swiss had bedded at least half of the pack by now.

It was a bit cute that Swiss seemed so nervous. The usually ever bold ghoul reduced to nervous fidgeting just over rain talking about kissing dew and mountain.

“Yeah it’s stupid, I’m sorry-“

Swiss is quickly cut off by rain reaching up to plant a chaste kiss upon Swiss’ lips. It’s small, barely any movement besides the brush of skin on skin, but rain pulls back with a small wet smack while Swiss stares at him wide eyed.

“There! Now you’ve kissed someone” Swiss’ face quickly reddened while rain gives him a cocky grin at his flustered state. It’s not much, he shouldn’t be at a loss for words but rain tasted like salt and the lemonade that sat next to him and Swiss couldn’t help but feel intoxicated from the couple second interaction.

“I-“

“Yeah?”

“I- it wasn’t long enough I didn’t learn anything, you’ll have to do it again” Swiss squeaked

“You’re an idiot” rain laughed, pulling Swiss back down to kiss him until he’s dizzy.

[aayakashii]

touch starved

Part two to this one right here.

Warning: just VERY SLIGHTLY suggestive, kinda angsty, Alan probably crumbling into dust at the faintest touch etc

“... this is stupid.”

Alan has been staring at the car’s engine for the past 15 minutes, without actually seeing what was in front of him. He doesn't really know what kind of anomaly was presenting itself in that entanglement of wires and metal (and blood red flesh).

He sighs, rubbing his face with his hands, smearing it with soot.

“... What kind of stupid reaction was that” he thinks to himself, eyebrows scrunched as he cringes painfully, remembering how he had made a fool of himself in front of the honor student.

His hand goes to rub the top of his own head, as if he could rub off the ghost of their touch. But if his previous attempts were anything to go by, he obviously could not. 

Alan isn’t a fool – of that, he was completely sure of. He may not be as bright as the other Captains, and he may be a disaster with technology, but he isn’t a fool and he prides himself on the fact that his self-awareness has constantly kept other people safe.

There is no room for longing and pining in his own life, no matter how much his brain tries to trick him into thinking about the honor student for longer than necessary.

He gulps harshly, mouth dry, still eyeing the engine that contorts itself as it swallows more and more bits and pieces of metal.

The honor student has been nothing but helpful towards Vagastrom and the other dorms, and incredibly patient and kind when the circumstances would probably justify their hatred towards ghouls, yet Alan couldn’t help but feel bitter at the thought of them.

It would be so much easier if they were scared of him, if they kept their distance, if they saw him as a threat much like the other humans – but they aren’t, not at all. And this bitterness coats his tongue heavily, like lead, whenever his awful hands touch the top of their head to compliment them for doing a good job, and they turn towards Alan, beaming with joy at his comment. 

Alan unconsciously finds any excuse to touch them and to have their attention, however briefly, and he deeply despises himself for it.

He revels in the brush of his fingers with theirs when he gives them coffee and on the feeling of their hair between his fingers.

More than that, he discovered he has found respite from himself in the way their eyes would light up once they found him in the crowd, and in the blind trust they have on him, even after he drenched himself in blood before their eyes.

Alan clenches his fists, and the anomaly keeps on eating and eating every bit of the metal right in front of him, the car becoming more blood red than gray.

He is ashamed of himself.

Alan knew there was nothing hidden in the way they smiled at him. Yet, in the quiet humming of the night, he remembers those lips saying his name over and over again during the day, and imagines how they would feel against his skin.

How would it feel if he made them say his name over and over again as a whisper, a scream, a moan, a sob – and then he gets dizzy, as the blood in his head goes to a part of his body he would rather not think about.

Not only was he a threat just by existing, but now he's also disgusting? What would Dante say if he knew of these thoughts? Maybe he would feel ashamed he died to someone so pathetic.

Alan sighs deeply once again.

“Another sigh? That's another happiness that is leaving your body, you know?” a sarcastic voice comes from the entrance of the garage.

“Hello, Leo.”

Leo strolls his way towards Alan, looking everywhere but at the Captain.

“What's bothering the almighty Captain of Vagastrom, hm? You can count on your Vice-Captain for anything, you know? Open your little stone heart to me~” The gray-haired boy says, eager for the scoop on yet another possible gossip (or blackmail material. Who knows with Leo).

“... Nothing's wrong.”

Alan blinks owlishly, finally fully coming back from his thoughts, and stares at the anomaly in front of him.

“Shit!”

Before him, the unknown anomalous monster has eaten the entire engine of the car, leaving it devoid of any components, with ample space for it to squirm unnaturally inside – a pit of a blood red mess that seems about to either burst at any given moment or eat itself alive, hungry with nothing else to swallow.

“Uwaa… this looks like one of those gross Lovecraftian monsters… this is sooo disgusting.” Leo says as he snaps pictures of the monster on his phone from every angle possible.

“Why are you taking pictures, then.” Alan slams the car's hood down, placing a defensive spell on the opening, sealing the monster inside. He will send it to Mortkranken so they can do their weird experiments on it later. His mind isn't up for any problems at the moment.

“Uuhh, scary~ you're the one that failed to control it, though, so don't take it out on me” Leo sticks his tongue out. "Aaanyways, I saw that mission that the NPC brought us today, and it looks so easy! Can I do it?”

“No.” Alan retorts immediately, staring at Leo with cold eyes, and the gray-haired man immediately scowls, eyes clouding with anger.

“You never let me do anything I want, you're SO fucking annoying. And guess what? I bet it's just because you're in love with that annoying NPC and want to do the mission alone with them. It's ridiculous. AND disgusting. Are you a pervert? I guess you are. Who knew the big boss was just a pervert”

The younger man lets out a string of curses and shows him the middle finger as he walks away and towards his bedroom, without waiting for any answer “You're gonna regret pissing me off!” he finishes, slamming his bedroom door loudly, as if to make his point clearer.

“Okay.” Alan mutters, paying no mind to his endless daily threats, and looks at the entrance of the garage.

At least Leo managed to bring him back to reality, although it was already too late to keep the anomaly at bay.

The boy is right though. He is disgusting. 

Alan presses his palms into his eyes, breathing deeply, grounding himself. He needs to concentrate. To focus on his work, on helping the students. Living on the clouds just isn't an option for someone like him. Not after all he had done.

And as the lights blind him once he opens his eyes again, his gaze quickly focuses on the highest steel beam that stood above the garage's entrance.

There, two Like Doves stare at him, unblinking, unmoving.

[acapelladitty]

gotta firefight, gotta cool the bad

Pairing: Cooper Howard/Lucy Maclean

Summary: After a marketplace fight, Lucy purchases a gift for Cooper and finds her generosity repaid in kind. (5.3k words)

(warnings for: physical violence, oral sex, mild blood, gun violence, cunnilingus, handjobs, drug use, orgasm)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

"It fucking stinks out here."

In the hustle and bustle of the small marketplace, it wasn't hard for Cooper to find the culprit causing such a nasty violation of his senses. A nearby vendor, their large barbecue hosting rows of neatly sliced and diced mutated fish, was slowly cooking the snacks atop the heated coals and the scent of the roasting fish was enough to even make Lucy's nose twitch as she stood in silent agreement with Cooper.

Glaring daggers at the stall owner, a short woman with greying hair that seemed to defy gravity as it stood on its end, Cooper sauntered past with a disgusted grunt as his eyes cast over the other available wares.

Supplies were low and his long memory had served him well as he recalled this busy little shopping district only just off the path which he and Lucy were treading on their dogged path towards her prick of a daddy.

A quick search of an old barn the previous day had yielded a sweet find; a case full of caps had fallen right into their hands and the sudden flushness marked with the low supplies had forced them to stray from their goals yet again as they chose to make a pit-stop. In the wastelands, good fortune didn't come around often so it was always the better choice to strike while the iron was hot and use their findings for immediate benefits.

Lucy was just looking forward to the distraction.

It had been three days since they'd fucked and nothing dramatic had changed between them outside of Cooper's mean-spirited teasing taking on a more physical edge as he grabbed at her and took more opportunity to brush against her with greater regularity. He hadn't brought up their little roll in the dust and sex to her was as casual as playing a game of cards so she didn't see the point in being the one to mention it.

A dreary sign hung over one of the stalls, offering a limited deal on anyone who required both dental work and haircare, the dental barber lounging beneath his advert with predatory eyes as he watched the handfuls of people slip amongst the varied goods and wares. To his side lay another rickety table, this one housing various pieces of tech and trinkets which Cooper could immediately tell were scavenged from the remaining wreckage of Dusty Dunes.

One of the stalls boasted some pretty decent looking vegetables, the stark green standing out against the muted browns and oranges of the surrounding desolation and Cooper found himself latching his fingers to Lucy's elbow as he all but dragged her over to have a closer look.

The man who owned the stall, his right hand missing a thumb, watched them approach with hateful eyes but Cooper ignored the obvious tension as his gaze zeroed in on his goal.

"How much for the lettuce?"

"Fuck off, mutant."

Smiling dangerously, Cooper took the insult in stride, unbothered by the attitude. People hated ghouls and he was more than happy to meet their disdain with his own.

To his side, Lucy was not quite so calm.

She wasn't ignorant to the way people reacted to Cooper, her eyes and ears were quick to pick up on the whispers and outright nastiness which people afforded him before he could even open his mouth.

"Hey! What's your problem?"

Equality in the vault was an absolute rule. No job or ruling position was limited in who could hold it and all an individual had to do was speak their truths and hope that they garnered enough votes or interest to succeed. Skin colour, gender, sexual persuasion, all irrelevant as they each saw past these things to choose the best person for the job.

To see actual discrimination in the flesh, so to speak, was an aspect of her travels with Cooper which needled her with just how unnecessary it was. That and all the other shit they had to deal with. This at least, she could control.

Regarding her with less open hostility, there was still an edge of disgust in the stall owners features as his gaze roved over her.

"No try before you buy, lady. If you see something you like then I'll tell you a price."

"And what about my friend here?"

Content to let her steam ahead on her one woman crusade to bring some class to this shithole marketplace, the amusement which Cooper hid behind his stoic features was laced with a dangerous warmth that she even gave enough of a shit to speak up for him over such a thing.

"I'll play nice with a pretty lady looking to buy, but I ain't looking to play nice with a fucking mutan-"

His insult cut off by the fingers of Lucy's right hand as they collided across his cheek, the immediate ruckus caught the attention of more than one passer by as numerous guns were pulled free and triggers clicked.

"Don't be so mean!" Lucy exclaimed, righteous fury burning in her veins as she stood her ground, unaware of the growing attention her actions were pulling. "You take that back and say sorry right now."

Spluttering furiously, the humiliated man squared up to her in a moment - his hand raising in the air to meet her in turn with a harsh slap until he found his wrist captured in a punishing hold which dragged a pained squeal from his lips.

"Bad move, buckaroo."

One hand an inch away from snapping the wrist in his iron grip while his other hand held his pistol to the man's nearest thigh, Cooper pulled the trigger and offered up a vicious grin as the prick screamed bloody murder while dropping to the ground.

Cooper whirled in position as he held the attention of the gathered crowd, more than one having trained their own guns on he and Lucy as their little violent show drew an interested crowd.

"Nothing to see here folks." Cooper announced, hands sweeping outwards in a placating gesture as his pistol hung loose from his trigger finger. "Just a fella defending a very pretty lady from a fucking dumbass with a big mouth."

Said dumbass continued to yell on the ground, his leg dripping blood to the dust as he curled his hand around the wound.

By his side, Lucy matched Cooper's placating gesture as she called the crowds attention to herself with a clear of her throat.

"This man," she pointed down at him with a stern finger, her voice carrying as easily as it had across her classrooms as she considered her argument for the crowd, "started it."

A lame finish and one which Cooper barely held back a groan at as he side-eyed her with disgust. With a swift kick, he knocked the screeching man unconscious and told control of proceedings once more.

"Now, as I said, we're not looking for trouble but if trouble wants to find us then we're more than happy to meet her half way."

A vague look of recognition dawned in the features of some of those gathered and it quickly morphed into uncertainty as no one was really prepped for a full on shoot-out with a ghoul who looked comfortable with taking the kill where necessary.

With mutters of disinterest and the holstering of weapons, the few brave members of the crowd who were considering some retaliation appeared to think better of it as they rapidly upped and dispersed back to their own business.

As Cooper helped himself to a fresh head of lettuce, his other hand dropped appropriate payment to the table. His shoulders remaining hunched as the tension of potential violence refused to allow him to truly relax himself, Cooper tore the outer leaves from the lettuce before bringing it to his lips.

The crunch of his bite vaguely repulsing her, Lucy found her eyes drawn to the long line of trinkets which lay off to the stall by her side. Some looked ancient while others had the tell-tale shine of a recently-stolen object and she gazed across the collection until her eyes landed on something which sparked a firm idea in her mind.

Speaking from the side of her mouth as Cooper continued to enjoy his makeshift meal while his legs started up on a fresh journey, Lucy pointed out the object with her replaced finger.

"How much for that?"

This vendor, a one-eyed woman with filthy, matter hair which had been scraped back into a messy bun, offered little more than a casual shrug.

"Eh, eight."

"Done."

Handing over the caps and pocketing the small gift before Cooper could see, Lucy whirled on her heels and followed her ghoulish companion as he continued to devour his lettuce and stroll towards a nearby building; an advert for available rooms hanging over the double doors.

"We'll spend the night, vaultie. Daylight is fading and there's no safe place for camp nearby."

x-x-x-x-x

Payment given and room for the night secured, Lucy glanced around said room with a scrunched nose as she took in the mess.

"Wow. And they charged us for this?"

"Bed, no breakfast, vaultie." Cooper exclaimed with false cheer. "Just be thankful there's no radroaches between the sheets waiting to take a bite of your ass."

"It's not the radroaches I worry about."

The space barely fitting the large cot which functioned as a bed, Lucy shimmied around the side of it as Cooper openly chuckled at her comment and she lifted the sheets to check out the accuracy of his words - just in case.

Cooper continued, his amusement open on his features as he pulled his cowboy hat from his scalp and dropped it to the end of the bed.

"Now, a gentleman would offer the lady the bed and offer to sleep elsewhere. But I ain't no gentleman, and you're not the kind of lady to let a man get a bad back from sleeping like a dog. So, let's agree to share without argument."

Having already fucked him, Lucy shrugged her shoulders - the concept of sharing the space any other way not even having crossed her mind.

"Okay dokay."

It wasn't often Cooper removed his hat for any length of time and Lucy enjoyed the view while it lasted. The shadows of the hat tended to hide the curves of his head, from the way his cheekbones sunk into his skull to the leathered appearance of his scalp, and she narrowed her eyes slightly as she committed them to memory - her fingers itching to run across them.

So distracted, it wasn't until Cooper let out a loud sigh as his clothed body dropped to the bed that Lucy recalled her earlier purchase.

"Hey, I have something for you."

Keeping his eyes closed, Cooper tilted his lips into a smirk.

"Unless it's allowing me to snort a line of chem off a part of you of your own choosing, I ain't interested, sweetheart."

"Nasty." Lucy retorted but kept up her insistence as she nudged the bottom of his shoe with her elbow. "But really, put your hand out and I'll show you."

"Nope."

"Hand out!"

"No. Last time you got a hold of my hands you ripped half my finger off with your teeth like a feral bitch. Ain't falling for that again."

"Shut up and do it. You'll like it."

Giving a weary sigh and mumbling something about her being a nagging mare, Cooper relented and held his hand out as his arm propped his head up to allow him to watch her movements.

"I bought you something down at the market."

Dropping her hand into her pocket, Lucy pulled free the small item and placed it gently into Cooper's extended hand. "It's for your chem. It holds each vial perfectly and it'll stop them from jerking around and smashing in your jacket."

The metal component was light but sturdy enough that Cooper rolled it in his hand to test how much force it could take. His expression was blank, a strange series of emotions flitting through his chest as he considered the last time he had received a gift.

Straining his thoughts, he genuinely couldn't remember a time he hadn't had to fight or bargain for every piece of kit he owned.

It was a surprisingly thoughtful gift and one he immediately put to use as he sat upright and dropped his hand within his side pocket to pull free a few loose vials of chem. Slotting them into place, the little container held each one perfectly and Cooper's lips quirked into a hidden smile before he schooled his face back to a typical smugness.

"Bout time I got some recognition for all the hard work I've been doing here. Working myself like a pack mule to keep your stupid ass alive."

"Well, you're welcome, Cooper." Lucy rolled her eyes but her sarcastic tone dropped into something more earnest as she gazed down at him. "But I think the way that man spoke to you was wrong so I wanted to get you something nice. Because you're better than they think you are."

Looking at her with incredulity, Cooper couldn't help but scoff.

"If you think my hide is so thin that I give a fuck what they think then you don't know me at all, vaultie."

Cooper looked at her, really looked at her, and he could see the discomfort - the hatred which slid off him like water off a ducks back - settle on her skin. She was genuinely bothered by how they treated him and his ghoulish appearance, their unkindness making her unhappy with its perceived unfairness. She was naive as hell, but that unshakeable softness did amuse some part of him that often grew tired of having to fight for every fucking inch of his existence.

"Y'know what, sweetie. I just realised that I left something out there in the market. You stay here to keep the riff-raff out and I'll be back soon."

Striding out the door before the marketplace could fully shut up shop for the night, Cooper sought to even the playing field - uncomfortable fondness making him itch as an idea, much like the one which had afflicted Lucy earlier, blossomed in his mind.

x-x-x-x-x

The last gift Cooper had purchased had been a stunning silver necklace, the metalwork intricate, and he had slipped it over Barb's neck with a smile which matched her own as she watched it settle against her skin in the mirror.

Since the bombs, selfishness had become the way of the world and he wasn't anything if he wasn't quick to get with the times. But he had seen something that he thought Lucy might like.

He had spotted it earlier, the garment hanging on a thin rail with various other pieces. It was a blue slip, the fabric fine and almost like silk as it stood out against the other earthy colours which hung along its side. The ground beneath his feet felt oddly light as he trekked a rapid path back to the stall which he had perused earlier to go and snap it up.

Indicating the rail with a jerk of his hat-clad head, Cooper spoke lowly - enjoying the more relaxed atmosphere of the market as the fading day had robbed a lot of the customers from the area as they slunk off to whatever hole they'd crawled out of.

"How much for the slip?"

Barely glancing up at him, the stall girl - younger than Lucy and much blonder - glanced behind her as she counted her takings for the day, a fat pistol next to fingers to ward off any potential thieves.

"The blue one? Five caps."

Reasonable enough.

"Done." Cooper agreed, slamming the caps down on the wood with a steady hand.

Looking over the payment, the girl expertly unsheathed the slip from its hanger as she handed it over without any hesitation.

"Got a matching pair of heels for you if you want, sugar?" Her voice was surprisingly deep and Cooper held her gaze as she gave him a proper once over before meeting his eyes. "Might not match the duster though."

Tucking the fingers of his left hand in his pockets, Cooper held the slip between the clenched fist of his other hand.

"Blue ain't my colour, sweetie."

And with that, Cooper turned on his heels and headed back to his bed for the night, having concluded his business and desperate for a little bit of extended peace from the pulsing heat of the earlier day. Cooper strode back the room with purpose, forcing several people to side-step out of his way to prevent being knocked to the ground and he found his path unblocked until he stepped through the surprisingly sturdy door which separately his hired room from the outside corridor.

Lucy had made herself comfortable in his absence. Her clothing with minimal, a stained white tank top and matching cotton panties all that preserved her modesty as she reclined atop the bed - her fingers struggling to balance one of his vials of chem on their tips.

"You paying the rent to be sitting around here like a harlot?"

Caught off guard by his comment, Lucy's mouth fell open in comical shock and her eyes narrowed at the insult until she sensed the amusement rolling off Cooper as he tilted his head in her direction.

"Be nice."

"I am being nice." He countered with a grunt. "Last time I let someone share my bed looking like that they had to earn their place."

Perking up, Lucy didn't seem too put off by the idea but Cooper cut off her reply by throwing the slip at her - the thin fabric flying through the air with an almost ghost-like flourish as it landed in a crumpled mess to the side of her legs.

"What's this?"

"Eye for an eye, vaultie. I ain't having a gift hanging over my head like a fucking noose."

"Cooper!" Squealing in delight, Lucy snatched up the fabric with a wide grin and something odd curled in Cooper's chest at how enthusiastically she accepted it as her fingers smoothed it out. "It's gorgeous."

"It's what they had."

"Can I?"

"Sure. Knock yourself out, sweetie."

Without shame, Lucy snatched her tank top and bra free of her upper body and her tits bounced free in such a way that Cooper had to physically stop himself from following their motion with a slight head bob. Clenching his fist, he swallowed down the flare of arousal which pierced his groin at her brazen show of skin.

She was quick to throw the slip over head, the silken fabric trailing across her skin to settle against her frame with a delicious tightness that made Cooper immediately forgive the mild price. The blue stood beautifully against her creamy skin and the neckline was so low that it was practically obscene, the rounded edges of her areolas just beginning to peak free as she knelt up on the mattress of the bed.

"I-It's so pretty."

"Hrm."

"Did you want to see me wearing it?"

It would have been an innocent question if it weren't for the way Lucy's upper body tilted forward to flash even more of her barely concealed tits, and Cooper felt his teeth bite at his his inner mouth as she openly teased him.

"It's your gift. Do what the fuck you want with it."

"Do you want to feel what's under it?"

Asked the question as he once again dropped his hat to the end of the bed, Cooper inhaled deeply at the obvious come on and fired off a quick prayer to a non-existent god as he felt his cock twitch against his thigh. Her brazen attitude towards sex continued to surprise him in a way that he would never confess to her. Hell, he and Barb hadn't even kissed until their third date.

And yet.

Cooper was on her like a rash, his body pinning her own to the bed as he wrapped an arm beneath her shoulders and dropped the other to the hemline of the dress - teasing his fingers along the bottom.

"Are you asking me to fuck you on this here bed, Lucy Maclean?"

Still enraptured by her gift, Lucy gave a girlish giggle as she spread her thighs in open invitation, bringing one hand to his chin and tapping along his jaw as she replied. "You can do what you want with me."

"Big words, vaultie." Cooper growled and his hands worked quickly to slip her panties free - the process made easier by her raising her ass to help out. "But you think you know what I have from one fuck? You got a lot to learn, princess."

Lucy scowled at the nickname, her eyelashes batting as she narrowed her eyes at him, but he ignored it as he returned his hand to her thigh, using his wrist to push the hem of the slip up and expose every delicious inch of her sex.

"Mmm." Humming her agreement, Lucy closed her eyes as she tilted her body further into his grip - her hand coming to rest atop his own as he groped at her skin.

Dragging his first two fingers along her slit, the slight moisture there making him cock a non-existent brow, a sharp gasp escaped Lucy as her eyes flew open to meet his own.

"I can feel it."

With a push, Cooper slipped his two fingers within her hole and the digits sank into the wet, inviting warmth of her as if they were made for it and she responded in kind by clenching to pull him in deeper, immediately greedy for more.

"Well, I would hope so. We've only fucked once so I know i ain't broken it ye-"

"No. Silly man. Not that. Ugh- I mean I can feel it. My finger. It feels so different to yours. It's softer."

Caught off-guard by her comment, Cooper's fingers paused in their motions as they slowly pumped in and out of her deliciously wet cunt. He couldn't feel shit, his own body having grown used to the new finger without too much issue.

Her finger.

Return to sender, he supposed.

"Huh. Who would have thought." Cooper growled, filing her words away for future consideration. "Which feels better?"

At the question, he pulled his slickened fingers free and grazed them along her clit, the digits pushing past the protective hood to give her the fullest experience of their raw touch.

"Gosh, Cooper." Lucy whined, the immediate stimulation of her most sensitive nub causing her to jerk in place. "I don't know."

His fingers were quick to return to her cunt, pressing insistently at her hole until she swallowed him up again, grinding herself into his palm as one of her hands pinched at her left nipple through the silken slip.

"That colour is beautiful on you."

The words slipped free of Cooper's mouth before he could think too much about them but the truth of them was undeniable. A royal blue, the colour stood against her skin with pride, making her dark hair and eyes appear even more intense as they were off-set by how vivid the material was.

So engrossed by his fingers, Lucy either didn't hear him or didn't choose to respond as she continued to chase her own pleasure - her hands alternating between clutching at his leather duster and rolling across her own chest. Taking advantage of that, Cooper snatched his hand free of her and slid it within his pocket to pull free one of his small vials of chem.

"I wasn't kidding about the line, sweetheart. I'm in need of a pick-me-up and I'll let you choose the syringe."

"Thigh." Lucy responded with heat, her hands tugging the slip fully over her hips to expose her entire lower half. "You can take it from there but if I feel teeth then I'm shooting you with your own gun."

Emptying a small line of the vial onto the willing creaminess of her thigh, Cooper was quick to lick up the mixture of radaway and other addictives like a man possessed, his tongue dragging across her flesh to taste both the drugs and her sweat-slicked skin - a delight which flooded his mouth and made him shudder.

His little vaultie had a side to her that kindled that wicked sense of humour which refused to abandon him, even through the horrors he had both suffered and enacted, and in rare moments like this, Cooper felt a touch of his old self emerging; the rogue cowboy determined to play.

Cooper slipped his head higher, snaking his mouth further along the curve of her smooth skin as he kissed a sordid line along her inner thighs towards his goal. The scent of her arousal was clear, calling him towards her cunt like a sirens song as he momentarily mourned how long it had been since he'd gotten to enjoy such a simple act.

Cooper Howard had always loved giving head, almost as much as he loved getting it and goddamn if he didn't miss the feeling of having a pair of thighs warming his ears.

Lucy didn't seem to mind his eagerness as her thighs spread even wider, soft moans crossing her lips as her hands settled on the back of his head to pull him closer while he teased at her innermost thigh.

"Not even a little teeth, sweetie?" Breathing through words against her sex, Cooper didn't wait for an answer as he licked a salacious line across her slit - tasting her truly for the first time and feeling his cock jerk as it remained woefully neglected within his slacks.

Willing to deny himself for the moment as a little boon to her earlier, unexpected, defense of him, Cooper locked his hands around her thighs as he dove into the expectant meal before him. His nose bumping against her clit, his tongue immediately set to work as it followed up his initial lick with some much more controlled movements.

Lucy, her upper body reclining against the sheets, felt her breath catching in her throat at the sudden onslaught of pleasure that sparked across her cunt at his instant enthusiasm. Crying out in the quiet room, the sensation of his roughened skin pressing against her sensitive cunt was intense - his choice to devour her like a final meal making Lucy writhe in place as her hands flew to wrap around his hairless head.

Licking, biting, sucking and nibbling away at her, the lurid sound of Cooper's mouth as it worked on her cunt was obscene and Lucy locked her thighs around his head as she ground herself roughly into his face - forcing him to tactfully pull free for air when possible.

Enthralled by the little noises of pleasure which she mewled out, Cooper gathered Lucy's clit between his chapped lips and suckled it with a teasing hum. A move which almost cost him his life as her thighs clamped around his head and her fingers dug crescent shapes into his scalp as she rode herself on his mouth - her obvious and sudden orgasm even catching him by surprise as she pressed against him desperately.

Cooper snatched himself free, allowing her a small respite by lapping at her hole to gather some of his prize as it dripped free of her. The soft, dark curls which framed her cunt were wet, glistening with her arousal and Cooper found himself rolling his groin against the bedsheets to satisfy some of the need in his aching cock; his own pre-cum making the feeling in his pants more than a little uncomfortable.

"It hasn't felt like that befor- Cooper that was really good." Breathless and sated, Lucy's dark hair fanned behind her head in a mess as a hot flush stained her cheeks. Catching sight of his harsh positioning against the sheets, a sudden look of questioning entered her wide eyes and it only took a moment for her to work out what he was doing.

Lucy held back a soft laugh, as she slid her body further down the bed so that she was more in line with Cooper's positioning. Smiling brightly at him as his blazing eyes watched her with open arousal, she was unstoppable as her hand snaked its way towards his clothed cock. Her own features slack with pleasure, Lucy sighed as her hand wrapped around his cock - feeling just how hard his treatment of her had left him as he allowed her to grab him as she pleased.

"Golden rule." She muttered.

Quickly freeing his cock from its confines, his livid length jutted proudly from his groin as she ran her hand along the shaft, only pausing to gather some of the pre-cum which leaked freely from his slit to help her hand glide more smoothly. The texture of his cock against her soft fingers was so interesting that she could help but look down at her own actions, watching his cock slip between her fisted hand as she committed each inch to memory - from the darkened head to the prominent vein which ran along the underside of his shaft.

So different to anything she'd seen before.

But so goddamn good.

Already on the edge, it only took a few gentle strokes for Cooper to come undone - his balls tightening as he openly groaned out his pleasure, his lips forming around the grunts and whines without shame as his release arced gracelessly over her fist and wrist. Satisfied with her work, Lucy feel back to the sheets once more and exhaled as Cooper matched her movements; both bodies laying diagonally across the bed like marionettes with their strings long since cut.

Lucy surveyed the mess on her hand and they both lay in compatible silence, gathering their breath. Despite his ghoulish differences, his cum was just like the others - same colour and consistency.

A fact which made her wonder.

Bringing her stained hand to her lips, Lucy licked off the cum which stroked across her fingers and Cooper had to resist the pathetic urge to groan at the sight of her tasting him. Willingly. Even enthusiastically.

Fuck, she was going to kill him.

"If you're going to be doing shit like that, then you'll need to up your radaway, sweetheart. It won't knock you up but the factory that's cooking it ain't exactly meeting normal standards."

Feeling the salt and slight acridness of his release an interesting taste across her tongue, Lucy rolled to her side as she turned to face him completely. The fact that he still wanted to have sex with her after the first time made warmth spread across her skin and she basked in that satisfaction as she spread her knees slightly to take the pressure off her sensitive cunt, her entire sex feeling wet and sticky with her release and his mouth.

"It's sweet when you think of me."

Unable to help the selfish picture of her lips wrapped around his cock as she swallowed him down from flashing through his mind, Cooper was willing to allow her to continue in her more innocent reasoning of his actions as he grunted out his retort.

"I'm a charitable man when you get to know me, vaultie."

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 7

[sillyandquiteawkward]

*brushes the dust off my ghost tag and starts shaking it like cat treats out my window* who wants some papa and his loyal ghouls

[moony-ghoul]

phantom found home within the ghouls

not just a physical home but they feel at home with their ghouls

they feel at home when they watch mountain cook, it’s like he’s dancing, every step so precise. he thinks every step out so thoroughly and it pays off every time. ant didn’t understand what love tasted like until they tried mounts cooking

they feel at home when they wake up in swiss’ bed. strong arms wrapped around them, every point of physical contact feels like being basked in sunlight. he’s usually still asleep when ant wakes up and they enjoy the time memorising every freckle dusted on swiss’ face

they feel at home when aurora brushes their hair. they stay up way too late, some 90s movie plays in the background while they pamper each other. rory goes through her collection of nail polish and picks the perfect colour so they can match, she rakes her claws through their hair to distract them while it dries

they feel at home when rains back is pressed against their chest. rain grips the controller for dear life, tongue poked out between his teeth. the pair stay on the couch for hours in silence, the only sound coming from the tv, the games usually violent but ant finds it so peaceful

ants feels at home with their ghouls

they feel safe

they feel loved

[mac-and-thefox]

A little Rulti sweetness and fluff for anyone that needs it 💙

Morning Delight

A breeze blows through the window and causes Swiss to wake with a small stir, tickling his cheek and filling the room with the crisp autumn smell of turning leaves and incoming frost. He sighs softly and burrows himself further into the blankets and furs, enjoying the contrasting feel of the warmth of his bed with the fresh morning air.

Swiss rolls onto his side and nuzzles into the body of the ghoul curled up next to him. The clean, fresh scent of morning dew and water lillies fills his nose as Swiss draws Rain closer to him and buries his nose into the water ghoul's neck, breathing in deeply the scent of his mate.

Rain lets out a soft noise and presses back against Swiss' chest as he stretches out before snuggling back down into the Multi ghoul's arms and drifting off again.

Swiss marvels at the ghoul in his embrace. He gently lifts a claw to brush the silky blue-black curls out of Rain's face and gazes at him with all the love in time and space. Rain's eyes are closed, his lids a dusky shade, his eyes moving underneath and Swiss imagines he's probably dreaming of swimming through beautiful coral reefs, or the kelp forests at the bottom of the abbey lake.

Rain's skin is milky, almost creamy with a dusting of pink on the apples of his cheeks. A smattering of freckles bridges his delicate nose and travels up his temples, across his shoulders and chest. Each one shining and iridescent like scales from the most beautiful fish.

His lips, plump and full, are slightly parted as he breathes softly, the gills on his slender neck fluttering ever so slightly, warm and safe in Swiss' arms. Swiss can't believe that a being so divine, so painfully beautiful, so ethereal and perfect could ever choose to be his. How did he ever get so, so lucky?

Swiss runs his hand softly up and down Rain's body, feeling the soft touch of his skin. He skates his hand over Rain's ribs and over the swell of his hip and ass before wrapping his arms back around the water ghoul, planting soft kisses on Rain's neck and along the underside of Rain's jaw. Rain's scent, muted slightly by calm sleep, fills his nose as he nuzzles his mate's cheek.

Swiss rolls his hips slowly into the water ghoul's round ass, drawing him back against his body before exploring Rain's chest and stomach with his large hands. Swiss feels his dick stir and begins to harden as he grinds gently into the softness of his mate's sleeping form.

Rain stirs, breathing out a sigh as he slowly comes to. Swiss leans over to press a kiss to his temple and Rain wraps his tail around the massive hand resting on his sternum.

"Good morning, Sea Star," Swiss whispers, tickling Rain's cheek with butterfly kisses as he squeezes the water ghoul gently into his solid chest, still rolling his hips into Rain's ass. He leans over and gently rubs his horn that can reach against Rain's, bumping them together.

Rain hums a contented sigh and pushes back into Swiss' strong frame, moving his ass back into Swiss' groin in time with his mate. His lithe hands come up to rest on top of the larger ones on his chest and stomach as Swiss emits a soft groan with the increased pressure on his cock. This is his favorite way to wake up in the morning, and he knows that Swiss is well aware.

"Mmm....g'morning my spark.." Rain murmurs, turning his head back to catch Swiss' lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

Swiss cups Rain's face in his hand and leans into the kiss. It's soft, intimate, their tongues licking into each other's mouths as they move together tenderly.

Rain shifts to face Swiss on his back, wrapping his arms around the Multi ghoul's neck as Swiss leans over him, deepening the kiss and grinding against Rain's hip. He moans quietly, pulling Swiss more firmly against his body.

"What're you thinking?" Swiss mumbles against Rain's lips.

Rain takes Swiss' hand off his face, guiding it down his body, between his legs where his cock is quickly hardening, already leaking small pearls of precum.

"Want you to touch me," Rain sighs as Swiss closes his hand around his length and begins to slowly stroke up and down.

Swiss rubs his thumb over the tip, collecting the beads of pre and swirling it around. Rain moans quietly and rolls his hips up into his mate's hand and Swiss gets the message, slicking up Rain's cock and squeezing gently with just the right amount of pressure. He grinds against Rain's hip in time with his hand, speeding up at the sound of Rain's moans and gasps climbing in pitch.

Rain's mind starts going soft and fuzzy at the feel of the Multi ghoul's massive hand around his cock. He pulls Swiss down and kisses up and down Swiss' throat, sucking small marks into the skin, watching the bruises bloom like flowers on soft velvet through heavy lidded eyes.

Swiss' hand closes more firmly around his cock and his eyebrows cant up, his eyes fluttering shut, gasping out a soft "Ahh.. " at the warm, wet feeling.

"Love, need to feel you...please.." Rain breathes out, his hips moving of their own accord into Swiss' hand, feeling the beginnings of heat pooling in his gut.

"As you wish, my Rainbow,"

Swiss rolls over on top of his mate, stretching out along the length of Rain's lanky body, settling between his long legs. Rain wraps his legs around Swiss' waist and draws him in, both ghouls moaning and gasping together into each other's mouths as Swiss slowly sinks into him with ease, his hole still relaxed and slick from the previous night's activities.

Swiss runs his hands up Rain's body. Caressing over hips, along his ribs, skating up his arms. He gathers Rain's hands in his own and holds them above Rain's head, lacing their fingers together and pressing close as he starts to move, slow and deep.

Rain whimpers and breathes out a high sigh, feeling Swiss in his entirety. The Multi ghoul filling him and reverently laying his claim on his heart and his soul as he moves above Rain in tender worship of his mate.

Rain slips a hand up to cup Swiss' cheek, gazing at Swiss through heavy lidded eyes at his ghoul's rugged, scruffy face, his brows knitting up in pleasure at the feeling of his mate's body so tight, so warm, so wet around him.

"I love you, my spark," Rain moans softly, rolling his hips in time with Swiss' to grind his cock against the muscled plain of Swiss' stomach.

Swiss cries out as Rain's body clenches around him. Rain gazes up at him like he hung the moon. Swiss gazes back down at his beautiful water ghoul as he moves inside of him. How was he possibly deemed worthy to be in the presence of a creature so graceful, so....so alluring and captivating, let alone worship at his physical altar this way?

"So beautiful, so good for me, Water Lilly. Satanas, how was I blessed enough to have such a perfect ghoul as mine?" Swiss whispers prayerfully in Rain's ear, sending a shudder through Rain's body as he clenches down harder on Swiss's cock and cums between their hot, sweaty torsos.

Swiss gasps out a cry and meets his end as well, cumming deep inside the water ghoul's body, his cock kicking out the vestiges of his orgasm before collapsing down on top of Rain.

Rain runs his claws gently through Swiss' damp curls, pressing kisses to his forehead and murmuring soft words of love and praise in his ear.

The two laying basking in each other arms, exchanging soft touches and gentle kisses. Swiss slips out slowly, rolling onto his back and gathering his mate into his arms and against his chest, thoroughly spent.

It's a good thing they don't have anywhere to be today.

[dewedup]

shallows beneath me (raindrop!reader)

The ripples that surround her feel like they are brushing her skin purposefully, rubbing and lingering instead of hitting and breaking away. Little rivulets dance across her stomach, gliding effortlessly from one side of her body to the other. She watches, mesmerized, as the water curls along her skin in a way that shouldn’t be physically possible.

Or

A beach day with the ghouls goes exactly how you think it would, thank Satan the band's assistant was gifted multiple holes.

Lightly inspired by the sunbathing sweaty ghouls origin story Hot Ghoul Summer by @high-imperatrix

18+ ONLY

Pairing: Raindrop x reader / Rain x reader / Dewdrop x reader

Fandom: The Band Ghost

Words: 4,033 (can we just take a second to commemorate this as my longest fic to date, i broke 4k words!)

Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Oral Sex, Water Sex, Double Penetration, Gillplay, Threesome F/M/M, Nipple Play, Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, no beta we die like Nihil, Dewdrop Is A Little Shit (Ghost Sweden Band)

Read below the cut or AO3 link

She was a little surprised by the invite from the ghouls. It was unbearably hot out, this whole week being a heatwave from Hell itself, and they’d asked her to join them for an afternoon out by the lake. The entire band was currently enjoying a well-deserved two-week break from tour, and sure she’s seen the ghouls around but it’s not the same as being forced into close proximity during the touring process. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss their company. 

Apparently, the feeling was mutual, considering Swiss almost beat down the door to her room to extend an invitation to join them. 

She took another glance at the mirror, observing the risqué bathing suit she had ordered online at the start of the summer, not having a reason to wear it since purchasing it. It exposed a little more than she was comfortable with, but she’d wanted to venture outside of her comfort zone with the yellow polka-dot bikini that had screamed her name on the website. She knew the ghouls wouldn’t judge her or poke fun, but her self-confidence was ebbing away with every second she spent in the mirror. With a sigh of distaste, she reached to the back of her closet door, grabbing the black sarong, and covering herself up as best she could. 

She made her way down the path to the lake, towel in one hand and a wide-brimmed sun hat protecting her face from UV rays. She perked up as the sound of music and laughter drifted to her ears, rounding the shrubbery to see the ghouls sprawled along the beach. Phantom had a speaker set up beside him, pop music blasting at an unholy level as the ghouls tried to shout over the 80’s pop song. Phantom waved as he saw her make her way to the group, reaching over to turn the music down slightly. 

“Look who decided to show up!” Dew yells, the beer bottle in his hand glistening with condensation. She squints through her sunglasses as she notices all the ghouls in their silver, day-to-day masks, instantly regretting agreeing to join them. 

“Guys, I forgot you’d have to keep your masks on with me around. It’s way too hot for that, I’m going to head back in-” she was cut off as Dew sprints to her, tackling her into the soft sand and wrapping a clawed hand over her mouth, hissing playfully. 

“We knew what we were getting into when we invited you, sugar.” Cirrus calls from her position underneath an umbrella, Cumulus’ head resting in her lap as she runs her fingers through the blonde curls. The rest of the ghouls all made sounds of agreement. Dew uses his grip on her to lift them both back to their feet, dusting some sand off her back. 

“Beer?” Swiss asks, already reaching into the cooler beside him. She barely finishes nodding her head before he’s tossing a bottle at her. Luckily Dew’s reflexes are lightening quick, snatching the bottle out of mid-air, raising it to his face and using his fangs to pop the top. He offers the beverage with a little bow, some of the ghouls cheering at the display. 

“Why thank you!” She replies with an overdramatic curtsey, accepting the drink, and taking a seat in an unoccupied lounge chair that Dew brings her over to. He sits in the one beside her, leaning back and stretching his long body. She’s never seen the ghouls lacking so much clothing. Their on-stage costumes or Abbey-regulated outfits are a staple. Sometimes catching them in loungewear during tours, but never in bathing suits.

Dew sits beside her, shirtless skin catching the sun’s rays with the glistening sweat on his body. His hair is piled into a lazy knot atop his head. He tosses a wink at her as she runs her eyes over his body, a flush staining her cheeks watching his lips pull into a smirk. 

The same lips that opened and serviced her in the sky a week ago. 

Her body temperature rises slightly, and it’s not due to the sun beating down on her. 

“Where’s Rain?” She questions, seeing every other ghoul present and accounted for on the beach. She assumes she’s taken his chair, noticing a discarded t-shirt and mask on the ground beside her. The thought of his bare face being somewhere within her vicinity starts a yearning in the pit of her stomach. It tastes slightly of desperation. 

“Somewhere out there,” Mountain gestures vaguely to the water with his head, not bothering to elaborate. Her eyes graze the surface of the water, seeing no sign of the ghoul in the blue abyss. 

Water ghouls, she thinks fondly as she smiles and returns to look at the group. 

The music beats comfortably around them as everyone relaxes. At one point Phantom and Aurora challenge each other to see who can go lower in the splits and she watches intently as they both show impressive feats of flexibility, the ghoulette taking the win as she starts bouncing lightly using her toes and heels. 

The sun is showing no signs of stopping. She’s almost uncomfortably hot at this point, wondering how the ghouls are still standing having come outside before her. She lifts a hand and fans at herself to no avail. Aether’s eyes catch the movement of her hand, and she grins back in acknowledgement.

“We’re from Hell.” He stresses the answer to her unasked question. She supposes it makes sense, this is probably just unseasonably hot for them and not boiling their blood from the inside like for her. “Why don’t you go take a dip in the water and cool off a little? I’m not going to break it to Papa if you turn into a puddle and can’t make it to the next leg of the tour.” 

She sticks her tongue out playfully at him but concedes that the water would do her some good. 

She raises up, undoing the cover she’d hastily put on last minute, instantly hearing catcalls come from Swiss and Dew who are shamelessly watching her make her way to the edge of the water. She can’t turn around, the blush covering her entire face, chest, and body burns. If she puts a little extra swing in her step, it’s solely for the eyes she can feel tracing her every move. 

The water splashes against her feet as she steps up to the shore, taking a few slow steps to acclimate to the chill of the liquid in contrast to the sun rays still beating down on her. When she gets up to her thighs, she raises her hands above her head and jumps forward, breaking the surface as she dives into the cool depths. The water surrounds her like a cool hug, brushing against her skin in a way not many other things can. 

She takes her time, swimming further out to a depth where she can no longer graze the floor of the lake with the tips of her toes. The sound of the music still reaches her ears, but she feels worlds away as she lifts her body to float weightlessly, the sun warming her front while the water cushions her like a soft bed. 

Something about the water changes around her. The ripples that surround her feel like they are brushing her skin purposefully, rubbing and lingering instead of hitting and breaking away. Little rivulets dance across her stomach, gliding effortlessly from one side of her body to the other. She watches, mesmerized, as the water curls along her skin in a way that shouldn’t be physically possible. 

“Look what Leviathan has brought me.” The whisper touches the shell of her ear, taunting lightly as she shivers under his attention. The statement, and their current positioning, with Rain’s head floating beside her shoulder, is reminiscent of their first encounter. She feels heat stirring between her legs as he nudges his way along her neck, lips brushing across the skin, chilled from the water he’s been scouring the whole time she’s been at the lake. 

“I was wondering what you had gotten up to.” She offers back, acutely aware of the fact that he is maskless and right there. In any other circumstance she wouldn’t hesitate to turn her head, to catch a glimpse of the unknown face that haunts her dreams. But he’s here, trusting her to play by the rules, showing his cards so plainly she can’t help but adhere to expectations. 

So even though she’d give anything to look at him, she remains painfully still, staring up at the sky. 

Rain’s presence clouds her mind. She forgets how to hold her body up and her legs slowly drop, treading water as the ghoul of its kind pushes up against her back, pressing his skin against hers. 

“I’ve got you,” he says so casually. She instantly follows his lead, letting her body relax even though she’s almost positive she’s about to sink below the surface. But Rain’s there, leaving little room between their bodies as something thin, yet strong, wraps around her waist. Her fingers travel below into the water, finding the place where she’s being anchored. Is that his tail?

Rain lets out a soft gasp as her fingers come in contact with the extremity, and she smiles wickedly as she clocks the reaction, moving her fingers along his tail to see if she can hit that spot again. Bingo, she thinks as Rain shudders behind her. No verbal cues this time, but she can feel the way his body reacts to her touch. 

“Close your eyes,” Rain commands, already moving her body around to face him as she slips them shut instantly at his words. She can’t see it coming, but his lips are on hers, pressing in with an urgency she gladly returns. She lets him devour her whole, trying her damndest to keep up with the way his tongue battles hers for dominance. They kiss for so long she starts to feel lightheaded; her brain being deprived of the oxygen it needs causing black spots to form beneath her closed eyes. She pulls back, gasping for air as she throws her arms around Rain’s neck, holding him while still keeping her distance to breathe in. Something flutters along her inner forearm, and she squirms at the feeling, eyes squinting hard with how much effort she exerts to fight the need to open them and see what’s brushing against her. 

Curiosity burns deep within her as she pushes closer again, finding Rain’s lips and kissing them fiercely while her hands come closer, moving to rest on the water ghoul’s neck. Her fingers graze the skin there, feeling the strong muscle underneath, until they run over something that doesn’t belong in her mental image. A gasp leaves her lips as she feels the soft tissue flutter beneath her fingers, air pushing out of the space she’s exploring. 

“Gills,” Rain interrupts her train of thought, pulling back so that he can assess the look on her face. She tries hard to school her surprise, knowing that while she can’t see it, she’s very much under scrutiny right now. It’s eerily quiet for a minute. She can feel Rain’s eyes burning into her, but she can’t look back, can’t do anything but wait to see what he does next. She starts to wonder if maybe he’s waiting on her to say something, and she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Cool.”

The cringe is instant. She can feel her face scrunch up as she wishes Rain would loosen his grip on her with his tail and let her float to the bottom of the lake. She hears a chuckle from behind her and she whips her head around, cursing the fact that she doesn’t know if it’s safe to open her eyes. She wouldn’t betray Rain’s trust like that. 

“He told you he has gills and all you say is cool?” She’d recognize that voice anywhere, can picture the smirk on his lips as his hands come to rest on her hips from behind. 

“Dew,” Rain drawls. The warning is clear, but she can also detect the smile he’s wearing in his tone. “They are… cool.” Rain forces out. She’d like to think he’s trying to smile around the words, instead of scrunching his face, which is more likely. The chuckling fire ghoul behind her blows hot puffs of air on her neck as he tries to reign in his laughter. 

“How cool are they?” Dew fires back, his tongue meeting the back of her neck and running a trail up it. Rain’s tail flicks at her stomach, the sensations doubled by the fact that she can’t see anything. The word cool is starting to lose all meaning. She feels equal parts shame and turned on, the wandering hands trailing along her body helping push her to be a little bolder.

Her hands brush against the silky membrane of the gills, enjoying the feeling of it underneath her fingertips. She runs along the seams, feeling the water ghoul stiffen beneath her hands. The reaction gives her all the permission she needs to venture further, pushing in so very slightly, letting the gills encompass the tips of her fingers.

“Enough,” Rain commands, his hands suddenly wrapping around her wrists, gripping firmly but not too tightly, a warning. “They’re sensitive, I wouldn’t want to spoil the fun I have planned.” He elaborates, leaving her hands to rest on his shoulders as he plunges forward, lips meeting her neck in small nips and licks. 

“You wanna see a trick, doll?” Dew’s voice is in her ear, both ghouls worshipping her body as she floats, gripping onto Rain for dear life. She’s humming confirmation and nodding, not trusting her voice as fangs scrape the delicate skin of her throat, dragging lightly along it. She doesn’t even know who the fangs belong to anymore, Rain and Dew working her skin like it’s a choreographed dance, picking up where the other left off and never leaving her wanting more. 

Claws ghost down her sides as she feels lips pressing against her skin under the cover of the water. Her hands follow the movement from where she still has them on Rain’s shoulders, feeling him sink deeper until he’s at her waist. The claws come up and carefully tug at the strings on either side of her bathing suit bottoms, soon leaving her bare to the chilly water of the lake. 

Dew must feel the shiver down her spine at the cold, for suddenly a warmth is spreading around the surrounding water. At least, she hopes it’s his fire ghoul magick and not the other thing she can think of. A gasp leaves her lips as the claws underwater grip her thighs, spreading them wide and letting them rest on his shoulders, her hands traveling higher and digging into Rain’s hair. There’s a pause, a second where she feels like he’s waiting for some kind of green light, unable to voice his question under the water as he is. She makes her needs loud and clear, using the grip on his hair to pull him flush against her, moaning as he doesn’t hesitate to start licking into her folds with a barely concealed hunger. 

“Yeah, I thought you’d like that one.” Dew remarks cockily, his own hands slipping underneath her top and fondling her breasts as he bites down hard where her neck meets her shoulder. Another strangled moan pushes its way past her lips, her hips bucking into Rain’s mouth as Dew continues to tease her. Fuck, she thinks. This is the hottest thing I’ve ever been a part of. Even if she could see, it would simply be too much all at once. Maybe keeping her eyes closed is the only thing tethering her to the last shred of sanity in her mind. 

“Fuck!” She shouts, Dew’s hand shooting up to cover her mouth as more unintelligible garble comes out as Rain bites down lightly on her clit. Her grip on his hair tightens to what must be a painful level, pushing him further into her as she rubs her hips up and down along his tongue, fucking his face like it’s the only thing she was put on this earth to do. 

“Yes, take what you need baby.” Dew hisses encouragingly, using the hand not covering her mouth to flick viciously at her hard nipple. The scream she lets out dies on Dew’s hand as she clenches around nothing, the slick of her release disappearing into the water surrounding her as Rain continues to coax her through her orgasm with his tongue. 

Her thoughts are in shambles, the exhilaration of coming so hard in such close vicinity to the other ghouls, the idea of them hearing her cries of pleasure… She clenches again, overstimulation causing her entire body to shake with how insanely turned on she is. The sound of Rain breaking the water in front of her grounds her slightly, pulling her head from the clouds she had floated to upon her release. 

“You taste even better straight from the source,” Rain growls, his lips encompassing hers again as she tastes herself on his tongue. The flashback of Rain licking her juices from Dew’s fingers on their most recent flight hits like a train, her eyes rolling into the back of her head beneath her closed lids. 

“Need you.” She breaks apart from Rain to breathe out in a whiney tone, one hand reaching back to cradle Dew’s head while the other stays firmly tangled in Rain’s hair. “Both. Need you both.” She adds, in case her words were interpreted in any other, incorrect way. 

“Thought you’d never ask,” Dew groans, pushing his erection into the plump skin of her ass as he rubs himself against her. She doesn’t know how to voice what she wants, knows exactly what she’s after but is unsure how to ask for it. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, worrying it as she reaches for the right words. 

“At the same time?” It comes out more as a question, unlike the demand she was hoping to make. The second of silence, and the fact that she can’t see their expressions, lingers too long to be comfortable. Her cheeks flush in shame, the need to escape for her own self-preservation. 

“Unholy shit,” Rain breathes. The growl in his words strikes a chord deep within her, pulling the strings in her stomach taunt. She has to swallow back a groan at the sound. 

“Are you sure, doll?” Dew asks from behind, but she can tell he likes the idea from the way his hips stutter in their attempt to rub a home into her ass cheek. Both ghouls shuffle slightly, pulling her back toward the shore, where her toes can brush the floor of the lake. “We can go slow, but it might be a lot to handle.” 

“I’m sure.” She confirms sternly, already knowing she won’t know peace until she has them both where she wants them, pushing her to the limit and then spilling over the edge. 

“Fuck, Rain you’ve got to go- shit you’ve gotta go first, I’m not going to last long in there.” Dew acknowledges, his cock running up the cleft of her ass, rubbing without applying any pressure. It’s been ages since she’s had someone visit through the backdoor, but there isn’t a single bone in her body that isn’t down for what’s about to happen. 

“Yeah, fuck-alright.” Rain bites out, wrapping his hands around her thighs once again and lifting her so that she can settle comfortably wrapped around his hips. She feels his cock pressing against her and angles her hips, trying to trap him in her soft, warm heat. She hits the mark, and he sinks deep into her cunt, filling her so completely she can’t help the sigh that tumbles from her lips. He rocks gently, giving her time to adjust to his size as he starts to build a pace, the water rippling from the bouncing movements as Rain guides her up and down on his stiff cock. 

“Last chance to back out,” Dew taunts behind her, the head of his dick pushing experimentally at her tight hole. She clenches unintentionally, a strangled moan coming from the water ghoul in front of her. 

“If it’s too much for you, you can still crawl back to shore with your tail between your legs.” She doesn’t know what comes over her, probably the adrenaline from their current predicament. The fire ghoul snarls lightly, rising to the challenge as he pushes in slowly, but surely. Rain pauses his own movements as he waits for the other ghoul to find his place. She doesn’t know what to do, impaled on the two of them, her body locking as she feels Dew break into a long-forgotten entrance. 

“Relax,” Dew hisses, his breathing heavy as he fights the urge to fuck her into the next year, simultaneously being squeezed within an inch of his life. She keens forward, clenching Rain’s shoulders as she tries desperately to loosen her muscles and allow the intrusion. Dew lets out a hollowed-out groan as he finally slams home, his body vibrating with the need to move but allowing her a chance to ground herself. 

Everyone’s frozen, no one moving as they wait with bated breath to see who dives in first. She’s fucked out and filled the most she’s ever been, but she needs more, craves more.

“I swear to Satan, if one of you doesn’t start moving right fucking now.” She spits, her hips moving just the slightest bit, and it seems to spark them both into action. They alternate pumps, her eyes crossing at the foreign sensation. She feels helpless, letting the ghouls take over the work as she becomes boneless, flopping her head down onto Rain’s shoulders as her body slumps. 

Dew picks up the pace, fucking into her like it’s the last thing he’ll do. His own thrusts bounce her up and down Rain’s cock, though the water ghoul doesn’t sit idle by, rotating his hips and trying to bury himself as deep inside her pussy as he can get. 

She knows it’d be impossible to take both their knots like this, that it would quite literally split her in two, but she can’t help but fantasize about it. Think about the way they’d be locked together for quite some time, stuck between the two ghouls who followed her into this murky water with the sole purpose of fucking her. 

Another thought of their knots has her bearing down, pulling moans from both ghouls as their hips stutter through her muscles tightening. 

“Tell me you’re close,” Rain begs, his hips moving erratically as he tries to move back into a rhythm. She’s unsure if he’s talking to her or Dew, but she groans in agreement either way. 

“C’mere,” Dew’s voice is in her ear. She tries hard to focus on the sound, the way it trembles slightly along the word. She feels Rain lean forward and listens to the sound of the ghouls kissing sloppily beside her. She lets out a high-pitched whine, wishing desperately she could crack an eye, just to catch a glimpse of what she’s sure would be a frequent thought during her highlight reel. 

A hand touches her chin, pushing her face to the side and suddenly she’s in the middle of the kiss, both ghouls pressing against her lips enticingly until she lets out her tongue. It’s unbearably hot, the way all three of them caress each other. 

And that’s how they come, groaning into each other’s mouths as they both fill her with their seed. Stars sparkle beneath her eyelids as she comes so hard. She can feel a tingle from her head down to her toes. The moan she lets out is filthy, sinful, and loud. If there was any doubt about what they were getting up to prior to this, she’s sure the other ghouls are now painfully aware of how depraved she is. 

[thepoisonedchalice]

in the woods somewhere

Summary: Had some thots thoughts.. about Mountain chopping wood at the abbey, so here’s a little ficlet of him be appreciated for it Pairing: Mountain x Swiss (swissalps my beloved <3) Words: 474 Tags: mostly flirty fluff, but slightly suggestive at the end A/N: this is the first actual fic i’m sharing here.. and it’s about Mountain chopping wood? Of course it is… why is this so typical of me

The wood cracks loudly as the maul comes crashing down. Mountain’s shirt has long since been removed, the afternoon sun beating down on him, tanned and freckled skin all sweaty. He raises the axe again, his broad shoulders accentuating his small waist, canvas work pants slung low on his hips. If you looked close enough you could see the sheen of sweat on his torso and the light trail of hair dipping into the waist band. His calloused hands from years of hard work in the gardens and drumming grip the axe handle like it weighs nothing. His hair is pulled back in a bun between his curved horns, a few tendrils fallen out sticking to his sweaty brow. He knows full well there are some siblings ogling him from the gazebo in the distance pretending to read and enjoying the warm autumn afternoon. They’re definitely enjoying something. He smirks to himself as he puts the axe down, beginning to collect the split logs from the ground to pile them up in the shed. As he walks over to the cords of wood, muscles tensing in his arms and back as he carries the piles of logs he hears a loud wolf whistle from behind him.

“Look at that tall glass of water!” Swiss shouts as he walks down the gravel path towards the wood shed, face splitting into a huge grin.

Mountain stacks the pile of wood before turning around, rolling his eyes, smirking slightly. Swiss saddles up to him, hooking a finger in his belt loop, looking him up and down. 

“See something you like?” Mountain grins down at him.

Swiss bites his lip, nodding, “Mhmm.” It’s then he notices the siblings at the gazebo over the earth ghoul’s shoulder. They’re frantically trying to find a spot to sit on the benches, opening their long abandoned books. “Looks like someone else likes what they see too.” He huffs a laugh, “Can’t blame ‘em.” His eyes dragging back over Mountain, his broad shoulders, the light hair and freckles dusting his chest. 

Mountain leans in real close, Swiss can feel his breath on his lips, “I was just heading to the pond to cool off,” he whispers. Swiss’ eyes are closed, his breath picking up as Mountain’s nose brushes his. And in an instant he’s pulled away, grinning as his warm hand falls from his waist. Swiss opens his eyes, annoyed, to see the earth ghoul giving him a cheeky grin. “You coming?” Mountain asks, turning around stretching his arms out, flexing the muscles in his back and shoulders. Swiss groans and watches for a few moments, Mountain’s long steps, the muscles in his shoulders tensing as he pulls his hair down. Satan below, he’s sure now that this afternoon is going to end with him a panting, whining mess under the willow tree.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Everything Goes On Pt. 5

[Time skip. Not suitable for younger audiences. Previous part here.] Below the cut.

As is the way of things, Copia doesn't find out about the absolute shitstorm that went down in the den until long after the dust has, more or less, settled.

A month has past since Aether's departure, and Sunny has only just taken her leave, but the silence that fills the usually lively space is... jarring to say the least.

Copia doesn't doubt that his precious ghouls are missing their friends, but it's not as if they are gone forever.

The surface isn't like the pit, they have phones and emails, and a multitude of ways to keep in contact, to see each other, and he knows they know this, given the long vacations, travel time, all of that which comes with the touring lifestyle brings...

No.

No, this silence is heavy.

Oppressive.

It makes Copia feel as if he's walking through the gates of Heaven instead of descending into Hell as promised.

Normally, he'd seek out Aether for an explanation, but unable to do so for obvious reasons, he looks for Mountain instead.

He doesn't find the ghoul in his room, rather, he finds him in the attached courtyard outside of the den, tending to his rose bushes.

Looking at the giant, Copia can tell something is troubling him, it's apparent in how he slouches, eyes distant, far away with thought, as his hands work automatically to care for the flowers before him.

"Mountain." he calls out once, and then a second time when the ghoul's ears perk up at the sound, "Mountain, may I speak with you?"

"Ah. Oh, hello, Papa." he smiles after a moment to process who's standing there, and raises to his full height, brushing the mud from his hands on the long apron tied round his waist, "Of course."

Copia makes them both tea, he insists on doing it, even though Mountain makes the offer first, and watches as the ghoul relaxes into the warmth of it.

The mornings are getting cooler, though the afternoons are still dead hot, and horribly humid, so a hot drink before the sun is fully overhead actually does some good.

"It's quiet this morning." Copia comments finally, and Mountain nods, setting his mug down, "Usually it's rather noisy down here."

"Things have been... tense." Mountain admits, running his finger over the rim over his cup, "We all miss Sunny."

"And Aether?"

Mountain sighs.

"I do miss him, he's one of my oldest and dearest friends, but I cannot help but feel a little... cross with him after everything."

Copia raises an eyebrow.

"...Did you two fight about him leaving?" he asks, and the ghoul gives him a look that says...

"You don't know?"

It takes a while to fully process the information he is given, and by the time he does, the water for their tea has gone cold in both cup and kettle.

Copia leaves the den with much to unpack.

Indeed, he needs to take all of this into consideration before the start of the next tour, but first...

First, he needs to summon some new ghouls.

.

.

.

Swiss paces outside of Dew's door like a little kid about to tell his mother he somehow managed to miss the school bus, which he may have done a time or ten as a kit.

Back and forth, back and forth, until he thinks he might wear through the faux wood flooring if he doesn't just stop and knock already.

He doesn't expect Dew to answer, Hell, he might not even be in his room right now.

That's happened twice now.

Dew not being in his room when Swiss has finally worked up the nerve to apologize.

Although the second time, he may have run off before getting any confirmation on whether he was or was not inside.

Regardless, this time, Swiss is determined to face his friend -Lord, he hopes they're still friends- head on and say he's-

"Thwith?" A voice lisps from down the hallway.

Swiss looks over to see Dew standing at the end of it with a box of crackers in hand, as he he shoves another one into his mouth.

"Yes," Swiss teases, "It is I, Thwith."

Dew flips him off as he swallows.

"Why're you outside of my room?" he asks.

"Why're you eating crackers without cheese?" Swiss counters, dodging the question.

Dew nibbles on his snack, "...Cause I already ate all of the cheese."

"All of the... There was a whole 1lbs. block of cheddar in the fridge. You're telling me, you ate all of that? Are you some kind of rat?"

"Are you cheese shaming me?" Dew places a hand on his chest in mock offense, "And, no, Rainy used most of the block so he could prep a batch of mac and cheese, I just finished off the last little crumbly bits honestly... sooo... why're you outside of my room?"

"I..." Swiss shifts on his feet and crosses his arms, "I... wanted to talk."

Dew gestures at him with the box, "Well? Go ahead."

"I thought maybe we... we could talk in your room?"

They both glance at Dew's door.

"Just talk... right?"

Swiss bites the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah..." he says, "...Just talk."

.

.

.

It's early afternoon when Cirrus glides across the hall to Cumulus' room, hoping for a little dessert after the nice "picnic" the two had had in the gardens that morning, but the sounds of an absolutely sinful moan makes her pause and press her ear to the door.

No, it's not coming from inside her mate's bedroom -not that they were exclusive like that, all of the ghouls fuck around, and she'd be perfectly fine with Cumulus having a little fun- so where...

She stares at the little door squished between Cumulus' bedroom and Mountain's.

Dew's new room.

Huh.

Her mind immediately flashes to a scene she'd walked in on ages ago when she forgot the golden rule of "fucking knocking" and saw Aether getting absolutely railed by the smaller ghoul, but she shakes her head.

Aether's not around anymore, and even if he was, he wouldn't be hooking up with Dew, not after their break-up so, who...

She goes down the list of possibilities.

Rain is busy in the kitchen prepping things for dinner tonight so he can just pop everything in the oven or microwave respectively and make it less of a hassle for his future self, so it can't be him.

She's almost certain she saw Swiss... somewhere, but he and Dew aren't talking much.

Mountain is outside, he'd caught her and Cumulus hooking up earlier and doused them with the hose, very rude.

So who...

"Lus' room is right next to his now." her brain offers, "And she's not in hers at the moment."

Cirrus flings the door open, growling-

"What the Hell?!"

"Cir, what the fuck?!"

-only to get an eyeful of Swiss straddling Dew's legs... giving him a massage?

"...Oh."

"GET OUT!"

[miasmaghoul]

I’ve been thinking about 0 stamina dew recently. Like that part in mummy dust where he jerks off in time for the canon? Dude gets in like 4 jerks before he’s blowing his load. Probably would be even less if it was someone else’s hands on him.

you guys have no idea what a minute man dew truther i am omg my moment has cum

Dew tries not to view it as a weakness.

He has stamina in other ways. More than most, really. He can take and take without complaining - well, not in any way that matters, at least. He can take pain and pleasure, humiliation and scorn, laughter and praise; whatever they give, he will gladly take. Takes it all in stride, even, save for the occasional case of supdrop or mild internal bruising. Dew is good at taking.

When it comes time to give, though -

"Dew, fuck, please-" Aether voice quivers as much as his belly, tight with pleasure. "Please give it to me."

Well, there's a reason Dew rarely tops.

"Soon," he breathes, licking his lips while he watches Aether open up for him. "Soon, I promise."

Aether drops his head back onto the mattress with a groan, rolls his hips, and Dew sighs.

There's a reason he rarely tops, but Aether asked, and Aether always gets what he wants. Whether Dew likes it or not.

As though he could possibly not.

They've been here for a while now, started back when the sun still painted his room in summery tones of rose and peach. It's lit by Dew's bedside lamp now, but Aether looks no less tantalizing in this light.

On his back, legs splayed and hanging over the edge of the bed, fists bunched in pale gray sheets. He's flushed all over, skin shiny with sweat and speckled with evidence of Dew's mouth. Splotches of color that pepper Aether's throat, his inner thighs and everywhere in between. Sucked in deep enough that Dew will be able to press on them for a few days to remind Aether what he can do.

Dew's eyes, though, aren't caught on those marks. They're been stuck between Aether's legs for a while now, ever since Dew settled to his knees between those strong thighs. Stuck on the sight of Aether's wet, purpling cock, throbbing where it rests in the crease of his hip. It jumps every time Dew's fingers move, every time he curls them deep inside Aether's needy body.

Dew pets at the bump of his prostate and Aether yelps as his cock spits a blurt of pre. There's a trail of it coating Aether's hip, just begging to be lapped up. Dew indulges, drags his tongue from Aether's frenulum and over the fresh bead already welling up in his slit. Relishing the choked off gasp he gets in return, in the way that tight pink hole clamps down around his digits.

He licks up the mess coating Aether's warm skin, bathes his tongue in the salty musk of pre and sweat, and Dew's own cock dribbles onto the hardwood floor.

The thing has gone ignored all evening, left alone while Dew worked Aether over. While he licked into his mouth and kissed down his chest. While he took every inch of Aether into his hot mouth and swallowed him down. While he pressed wet, sloppy kisses to Aether's full balls and tickled his soft, pink rim.

It hurts. Aches in a way Dew really likes, in spite of himself. It's so hard, flushed red and sticking straight out, wagging in the air whenever Aether lets out one of his beautifully agonized sounds. The little ghoul hasn't so much as squeezed at it, devoting himself instead to pulling pleasure from Aether's stunning body in any way he can.

He has no other choice - one rogue brush of his own fingers could spell his doom.

Well, maybe not just a brush, but it certainly wouldn't help.

Dew rolls his hips into the air anyway, silent desperation. His other hand, the one not busy milking drop after drop of fluid from Aether's twitching cock, provides a distraction. He funnels heat into his palm, rubs it over Aether's thigh and up his stomach. Aether hisses at the burning warmth, squirms, and Dew pulls it back just enough to make him groan instead.

"Dew - love, please," he begs, the sound of it hitting the little ghoul right in the gut, "you - want you -"

"You've got me," Dew assures him, trying not to let his voice betray the soreness between his legs. Not that he needs to hide it, Aether knows exactly why Dew's holding out on him. They've been here before.

"You know what I mean," Aether pants, gasping out a soft oh when Dew's overwarm hand wraps around his pulsing length. Aether peers down at him with blown-out eyes and bee stung lips, deep hunger lining his face. Dew gives his swollen tip a little kiss and pillows his head on Aether's thick thigh, letting out deep sigh.

"Are you close?"

Dew crooks his fingers and a generous blob of pre slides down over his knuckles. Aether shivers, but he doesn't respond, and Dew has his answer.

"You know how this works," he murmurs, smearing that slickness over Aether's shaft and starting to stroke. "You know how to get it inside."

Dew watches Aether dig his fingers into the sheets harder, and he can't help the little moan that escapes him.

"Just tell me when," he breathes, nipping at the tender skin of Aether's hip. "Then you can have it."

It's not that he wants to deny Aether. Not really. That's more of a pleasant side effect of this exercise. Dew has a definite goal here, one he's never managed but always aims for, and it hinges on getting Aether to that razor's edge before he even thinks about giving him what he wants. It's the only way Dew stands a chance.

Patience is not a virtue the little ghoul possesses in spades, but determination is another story.

Tonight, he will make Aether cum on his cock.

Dew snorts to himself - even in his head it sounds ridiculous. Something that should be so simple, always just out of his grasp. He tries, every time he tries, and yet success eludes him. Always on a hair trigger, never more than a few pumps from spilling long before he's ready. Weak to any pressure around the sensitive flesh hanging between his legs, pathetically so. His own hand was bad enough, and that's a habit he's mostly abandoned in favor of becoming something of a communal hole instead.

But he is determined, and Aether deserves to spill all over his own belly before Dew fucks a hot load into him. Dew will be so good to him afterwards to make up for the wait, he swears he will - all Aether has to do is give him this. Has to lay there and take what the little ghoul gives him, has to let Dew push and push until he can't take any more, driven to the brink until he's a drooling, quivering mess.

Dew wraps his lips around the head, gives him a nice slurp, and Aether's back arches. The sound he makes when Dew stretches his jaw and swallows him down is low and decadent, deliciously sinful. It only takes a few bobs of his head for Aether's breathing to go stilted, and Dew takes that as his opportunity to wiggle a third finger into Aether's eager hole.

"Lucifer that's good," Aether says in a rush, trying to rock back against Dew's hand. His cock throbs against Dew's tongue and the little ghoul groans, the vibration of it forcing a tremor through every inch of Aether's body. "Oh, Dew -"

His voice melts into a tight, reedy plea for more, and Dew knows it won't be much longer now. He doubles down on wringing those heady sounds from Aether's throat. Messy, unintelligible gurgles that flow freely from his tongue and his cock pours pre down Dew's throat.

Aether's fluttering round his probing fingers now, hot and velvety in a way that makes Dew's eyes cross. He's rutting into the air mindlessly, skinny hips humping against nothing at all. Part of him hates that he can stay so hard for so long, only to fall apart in seconds. It feels like a betrayal on the deepest level, but right now Dew doesn't care.

Aether's starting to sound stupid now, and it's music to his ears. Little ah, ah, ah sounds forced out with every swirl of Dew's fingers over his most sensitive spots. He's started to draw his knees up too, started to curl in on himself, and Dew feels Aether's balls begin to draw up against his chin.

"Close, close," Aether warns, moaning long and low when Dew pulls off with a wet pop.

"Yeah?" He asks it a bit breathlessly, eyes sparkling and cock jumping. "Gonna shoot for me?" Aether gives him a frantic nod and Dew groans, biting his lip. "Fuck, I'm gonna make you feel so good."

He pulls his fingers from Aether's tense, quivering body with no ceremony, little chest heaving as he shoves himself to his feet. His knees scream at the movement, but Dew does not have the capacity to care. He paws at the bed in search of their discarded bottle of lube, digging it out from the mess of blankets and popping the cap.

"Legs up," he instructs, drizzling entirely too much slick over himself, "show me - yeah, just like that, fuck."

Dew groans through his teeth when Aether grabs for his knees and tucks them up by his chest, making sure not to hide his face. Dew would never allow that. He's slick and swollen, puffy hole clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled. Dew pours more lube there too, and Aether squeezes his eyes shut with a strangled sound.

"Shh," the little ghoul soothes, smearing the lube over his hole and pushing some inside. "I've got you, I've got you."

With a deep breath, Dew finally risks touching himself where it counts. His whole body feels like a livewire, twitchy with unspent energy and tension. He hasn't only ignored his cock tonight - his whole body remained off limits, even to Aether. Especially to Aether. He can feel sweat trailing down his temples, down his sacrum, and when Dew oh-so-gently spreads that generous layer of lube over himself it knocks the air from his lungs. It's just so sensitive.

With a barely-hidden whimper, Dew wipes his slippery hand clean on the sheets and grips tight at the base, his other hand digging into the plushness of Aether's thigh. Squeezing mindlessly while he lines up his dripping cock with Aether's wet hole. There's entirely too much lube in play here, but it's all intentional. Necessary, if you ask Dew. An added barrier, a reduction in sensation that his body desperately needs.

It hardly helps. Even the bump of his tip against Aether's hole feels like too much, and Dew grabs at Aether's cock again. Strokes once, twice, three times to make sure he's still riding the edge. The way Aether's toes curl is a dead giveaway.

"Dew," he bites out, licking his lips and opening himself so wide, "now."

Dew can deny him no longer.

The little ghoul shouts when the tip slips into that tight ring of muscle, and the searing pressure of Aether's body shreds his patience with the sharpest claws. It sucks him in, hot and silky and so, so perfect. Dew sinks into him in one long push, not trusting himself to stop. If he stops, Aether might clamp down on him. If Aether clamps down on him, his head will implode.

What a way to go.

Dew seats himself to the hilt, and the moment their hips meet his shoulders hunch. He's throbbing already, his balls tight, and Dew cannot stay still or silent.

"Aeth - shit, Aether," he nearly whispers, chest heaving while his greedy hands grope at Aether's belly and chest, "so good, you feel so good, oh -" He starts pumping before he really means to, any control hopelessly vanishing into the suffocating heat of Aether's body.

It's embarrassing how quickly he falls apart, it really is.

"Please, please," he pants, too-stiff dick pulsing deep in Aether's hole. It's barely been a minute, but he's right there already. Like always. He drags blunt nails down that soft stomach, scratches red marks that he'll lick Aether's cum off of later.

Dew wraps both spidery hands around Aether's fat cock, strokes him tight, and the last of his control dissolves in the hurt cry Aether offers. He's slamming in now, the slap of skin on skin loud and lewd in Dew's ears.

"Aeth, baby, please -" he begs - demands - hips stuttering when Aether squeezes around him, Dew still working him with frantic hands. "Please cum, need you - oh fuck - need you to cum for me, please -"

Aether's moaning nonstop now, leaking all over Dew's fingers, thighs trembling. Dew worked so hard to get him here, spent so long worshipping Aether the way he always deserves. He knows it's close, knows he's so close to finally feeling Aether writhe around him without blowing first. He knows he can make it happen tonight, has to make it happen tonight. He doesnt care how much he has to beg, to plead; the gnawing need to feel Aether clamp down around him far outweighs any shame.

"Know you can," Dew spits, half out of his mind at least. The knot of painful heat in his belly is unraveling far too quickly, his blood set to boil. Aether hisses when Dew tightens his grip, twisting over the head, and Dew starts to ramble. "Please do it, please Aeth, let me feel it, I gotta - need to feel it, feel you -"

Dew cuts himself off with a shocked howl when a callused finger brushes over his nipple. The sensation zips through him like white-hot lightning, wrapping around the base of his spine and forcing his stomach tight. He fixes Aether with wide, wild eyes, and finds the other ghoul wearing the worst sort of smile.

"Wanted to...touch you too," Aether pants between Dew's hammering thrusts, and the little ghoul can't possibly hope to stop himself now.

"Oh no - Aeth, no, please," he whimpers, hips stuttering while the other ghoul fiddles with his chest, "you can't, that -" Dew gags on his cries when Aether pinches that stiff bud, drooling directly onto the other ghoul's stomach.

"Why...not?" Aether has no business sounding so playful, not when Dew can feel himself stabbing at his prostate with every pump. He swallows hard.

"'S gonna make me cum," Dew mewls, truly pathetic, "if you don't -"

Aether silences him by dragging Dew into a desperate kiss, all tongue and teeth and shivery moans. Dew can feel his rhythmic clenching; he's right there, he's so close -

"Next time," Aether tells him. His other hand sneaks up to Dew's other nipple, gives it a flick, and as Dew's plans for the evening start squirting out all over Aether's insides, all he can do is sob.

Next time, he'll get it.

Next time, Aether will be bent over.

With his hands tied behind his back.

Troublemaker.

[cirrus-ghoulette]

okay this is in response to the anon with the substance abuse/ED Dew ask/story (cw medical stuff. unforseen consequences of the actions he took in that story. talk of Dew's elemental transition and therapy n stuff.)

I swear I don't know what came over me. I swear some fucking ghost of a writer possessed me cus Ive NEVER written anything like fiction or stories or anything like this (at least, I dont write them down, most of my OC stories are just in my head)

Imagine, they finally get him into the infirmary and discover EXACTLY the kind of, and especially AMOUNT of damage this has caused. Both sets of gills shriveled and severely dehydrated. The ones on his torso almost disappearing between the sharp juts of his ribs. They find out he was using makeup and maybe something he'd put in his cheeks to keep the sunken cheek look as faint as possible. So when they take that all away, he looks GAUNT. The fins on his ears and body all look weak, floppy and shriveled. He can't move his fingers and toes as easily because the fin-like skin in between is so brittle and shriveled, it threatens to tear. His horns are cracked in several places. His hair has lost its shine.

The quints and human Dr's and nurses do their best but after a while they realise. They can't save most of the fins. His inner gills could possibly be saved but who knows if they'd still work or not.

Ifrit had already been thinking of retiring for a while, but seeing Dew like this, he couldn't take it. So he decided he would retire. He would spend most of his days at Dew's bedside, just praying for things to work out. Vowing he would take care of Dew, no matter what happened.

After this, the difficult decision was made to transition Dew into a fire ghoul. There was a lot of opposition, as you can imagine. However, as Omega and Aether explained to the pack, through tears. This was the most promising way to save Dew. He would be kept in a magically induced coma, to help his body heal. This would also give them some time to pump his body full of the nutrients it so desperately needed. Even if they didn't transition him, he would never be able to swim like a water ghoul. Most of the processes that would happen during the transition were already happening, most of his fins were already about to crumble away, his gills might never work again anyway.

He stayed in that coma for 2 months. 2 agonizing months of Ifrit at his bedside, helping Aether, Omega and the nurses turn him over to keep from getting bedsores, washing him, reading to him, bringing flowers to brighten up the room, even if Dew couldn't see it.

At long last Dew woke up. For weeks he could barely speak, his vocal cords cramped up due to disuse and the abuse they'd been put through with the dehydration and then the burning of his gills. Part of his inner gills were left, but the openings had been singed closed. He could still sometimes feel them trying to pull in air, causing him to have difficulty breathing as his body fought between which form of breathing it should use. It took a while for his horns to grow back in. They'd broken off and basically turned to dust a few days after the transition. His hair was shorter, having to be cut due to how far the split ends went up and the fear of them irritating the healing scars on his gills and ears. Ifrit had tried to argue, but even when he brushed and washed Dew's hair every day, he couldn't keep it looking well. Luckily, by the time Dew woke up, it had grown out a bit since they cut it. At that time it was just between the bottom of his ear and his jaw.

He cried, a lot.

He cried for the things he had to leave behind. He cried for Ifrit, feeling like its his fault that he quit. He cried for Aether who had to make such a difficult decision. He cried for Mountain, who had been struggling to keep the pack together during all this time. He cried for his old pack, some of whom, already knew they would retire, feeling like he let them down. He cried for the future he would never have.

Eventually his physical wounds had healed enough that he was allowed back to the den. From then on, he was put on watch. He wasn't allowed to drink alcohol. His food and water intake was strictly monitored. He wasn't allowed to be alone for more than an hour at a time. Always sleeping with someone else in the room.

He got therapy. Went to rehab. Things that were luckily able to be done within the church either via professionals who worked at other Abbey's who came to visit (or who he would visit) and online meetings. This way he could fully open up, not have to leave the whole elemental transition as an after thought. Didn't have to stay in control of his emotions enough to keep up his glamour.

Slowly but surely, things started to get better. He didnt have those dark thoughts as often anymore. And when he did, he knew how to deal with them. He could go to his pack for help. When the new summons arrived, it was tense for a while. Especially between him and Rain.

One night, Dew had snuck out, gone to the lake. He missed it, so much. He didn't know how to swim without his fins and gills and tail helping him. So he sat at the pier, staring into the water, tears slowly dripping in, making ripples appear. Of course, the rest had noticed and were frantically searching for him. That is when Rain felt a pull to go look at the lake. He didn't really know why but, hey, at least it's something right? So he made his way over. Texting the group that he had found Dew and that he would let them know if he needed help. he Slowly walked up to Dew, trying not to startle him and sat down besides him. It was quiet for a long time. Rain began to wonder if maybe he should call Mountain or Aether. They always knew how to help Dew.

"I just.. wish I could go one more time" Dew sighed. Rain startled, waiting a moment before replying. "go.. where?" "the lake. Swimming...its my own fault I know but.." Dew trailed off "I guess its no use moping. I cant. Not without my fins and gills anyway" Dew tried to joke but, it was painfully clear how much it hurt him.

"..what if you didn't need them?" Rain offered softly after a moment "I could help. I could keep both of us afloat so you don't need to think about swimming or staying above water. Just, be in the water." A moment of dead silence rang out over the Abbey grounds. As if nature itself was holding its breath, waiting to see if they'd take the plunge.

"ya know what, nevermind forget I said any-" Rain began to utter after a moment, but was quickly interrupted "Do you mean it? Will you.. keep me afloat?" Rain stared for a moment, before smiling softly "of course. I'll keep you safe"

and so, Rain let himself slip into the water, right off the pier. He came back up, holding out his hands for Dew to hold. He grasped them tightly, taking a deep breath, feeling his gills frantically beating against his scars, trying to close his airways. And jumped.

At first the rush of ice cold water hit him, making him gasp, getting some water as well. As soon as he hit the water, Rain was pulling him back up, arms grasped around his middle to keep him up effectively. Dew coughed and gasped, expelling the small bit of water from within him. Then, when he calmed down, he giggled. giggles turning into chuckles, chuckles turning into laughing, laughing turning into full crying belly laughs. Rain smiling at him the entire time.

Once Dew's laughter calmed down a bit, Rain pulled him along, had both of them float on the surface. One arm always under Dew's middle, holding onto his side. As they were floating peacefully, Dew told Rain what had happened, about his transition. He had known vaguely that Dew used to be a water ghoul like him but due to some kind of accident he had to be transitioned. But he never knew the specifics. Didn't want to pry.

The rest of the time they spend softly talking, laughing and crying with moments of comfortable silence, listening to nature, as it finally breathed a sigh of relief. Pointing at stars and the clouds. Telling stories and jokes. After 2 hours, Aether got worried again and went out to the lake to check on them. However when he saw them, he only took a picture and left quietly. They were all cosied up, napping together while holding hands, Dew's head laying on Rain's chest. And the picture? Well, let's just say, the little otter couple floating next to them added a good visual comparison of what the two floating ghouls looked like.

(again idk what writer ghost fucking possessed me but thanks bestie??)

This is amazing!!!!

[trashland-llamas]

She's So Pretty

Florence was at the age where they hated completing chores. Part of it being the ghouls were about to leave for rituals again. The ghouls thought it helped take Flora's mind off the impending departure but in reality, it just made it more apparent. Given a feather duster and a chide remark to be careful. Aware that the human kit would climb surfaces to reach higher. Not that Flora ever takes these chores seriously, instead half assing them.

'Cucciolo?' Papa Copia softly called out, seeing them hold a picture frame up close. The duster was discarded on the table. 'Who is she?' The picture of a blonde woman overlooking a banister. 'It's Sister Imperator, from when she was young.' Letting out a small wheeze laugh as Florence gave him a shocked look. 'I know, nothing like the old crone she is now.' Copia brushed some curls out of their face.

'She's so pretty!' Eyes full of admiration. Florence thought Sister Imperator had aged gracefully. Ultimately disagreeing with Copia's use of the word 'crone.' 

'Yea, she was. You should probably get back to dusting now, little one. Wouldn't want you to get in trouble.' Ruffling their hair, handing them back the duster as he left.

Sister Imperator's confused the next time she sees Florence. Especially with how the child looks at her with awestruck eyes, thinking of the life she must've lived.

[spoiledleaff]

Adore your hc of Dew being turned on by domesticity, tell me more?

ohohoho, sweetheart, anon, love of my life? i am so glad you asked!!! >:) i won’t lie, i’ve been holding on to this ask for forever, because i love!! this hc? i can’t explain it, it’s just so much fun to write for! :D i tried to do at least one act for each ghoul, so pardon me if there’s quite a bit down below, haha!

but! without further ado, here’s my notes on the ‘dewdrop gets turned on by domesticity’ idea featuring the era iv ghouls! :D oh! this one does get kinda explicit! or at the very least suggestive! you’ve been warned >:)c

✿ ＡＥＴＨＥＲ.

aether is sappy, so sappy. we know this, the ghouls know this, everyone knows this, yeah? i think part of the reason why aeth’s and dew’s bond/chemistry is so great is because aether keeps doing things for everyone, and dew keeps getting all hot and bothered about it, haha!!

i mean, what’s he gonna do? say no to dewdrop? fuck that.

dew would often spend the night in aether’s dorm when he was first morphed into a fire ghoul, so a lot of this began with their shared morning and night routine.

dew is always the first in bed and the first out of bed. blame it on the mismatched energies of having been/being a water/fire hybrid thingy, haha! his personal routine is a bit more random? kind of like that, ‘i’ll get to it when i get to it’ sort of vibe. it’s honestly only thanks to cumulus that dewdrop has a routine for his hair, and thanks to omega that he has a small routine to help maintain his vessel’s integrity.

aether has a much more solid, organized routine than dewdrop. by far! haha! he’s the kind of ghoul who brushes his teeth. twice per day. without fail! :0 goals, honestly.

so, it kinda started when dew was curled up in aether’s bed, watching aeth out of the corner of his eye as aether waltzes around the room grabbing night clothes, putting away his day clothes, talking idly about his day. and even though dew isn’t offering more than a few grunts or groans in response, aether just doesn’t shut up.

but dew notices that aether’s doing the same thing for him too. he’s packing away and folding whatever clothes he shed from the day’s activities and storing everything together.

the kicker is when aether pops into his bathroom and pops back out with a hairbrush in his hand and he’s looking at dewdrop expectantly.

“… what’s the brush for?” “for you, dew. i’m gonna brush your hair before you doze off. you can talk about your day too if you want, but you’re gonna get tangles and knots if you just go to bed like that. i can braid it too.”

dewdrop had a boner the entire time. aether thought he was just being dramatic when dew refused to flip over, haha!

another part of their morning routine is that aether insists that they brush their teeth together. at least for the mornings.

so, dewdrop begrudgingly surrenders to aether, and they’re brushing their teeth together. dew’s letting his mind wonder as he brushes, and eventually he catches himself staring at aether.

the realization dawns on dew that aether’s staring back, and when aether also catches up, the ghoul just fucking smiles at dewdrop through a mouthful of toothpaste and stupid fucking bubbles.

when dewdrop kisses him, aether tastes like that stupid fake watermelon taste of children’s toothpaste.

they fuck on the bathroom counter, and dewdrop wonders if he can somehow prank aether into brushing his fangs with dewdrop’s own cum.

✿ ＲＡＩＮ.

rain’s a bit more secretly sappy than aether. but! rain’s a little bit similar to dew in the fact that domesticity certainly excites them. rain just isn’t as… painfully obvious.

one of the easiest ways to get frisky with rain is to actually get soft and sappy and obedient with them.

the mummy dust bills gif with dew and rain cOUGH— rain is just that silent dom top where one look communicates all you need to know, haha!

it might be because of the borderline rivalry that these two had when rain was first summoned, but their affections for each other are still a bit more… subtle. at least in comparison to most of the others!

regardless though, rain very much thrives on teasing dew! but, it’s actually a bit double sided, haha! it may seem like teasing to others, but to rain and dew it’s their own love language.

when they spend the night with each other, or even if they just happen to be cuddling on the couch with each other, it’s a fucking war for blankets.

while dew feels hot to the touch, his days as a water ghoul have cursed his vessel by always running colder than most fire ghouls, and rain’s just always fucking frigid.

so, the two ghouls would be sharing a massive fucking blanket, shoulder to shoulder. but, the more and more dew fidgets and shifts, the more blanket he ends up snatching. whether it’s an accident or not is open to debate it’s not. he does this on purpose.

rain might occasionally tug them back a couple times, give the little shit a warning before going back to maybe whatever movie they were watching, or to whoever they may have been talking with.

but then dew does it again. and again. and again.

eventually, rain’s just fucking fed up (read: wants to be closer) with him. twists their body around and just hoists dew’s smaller frame right into his lap. no words, except for dew’s surprised screech and maybe a brief moment of flailing limbs and twisting tails before rain has dewdrop in their lap, his back against their chest, and the blanket wrapped around dewdrop’s lap while rain makes a point of sapping all of the gremlin’s beat through his spine.

“what the fuck-?!” “oh, shut up. you keep moving, and i’m freezing.”

there’s a couple mandatory bitter words directed at the other, but they lack the usual bite. all too quickly, they both settle down into a routine they known like the back of each other’s hand. dew hunches over himself and slumps against rain’s chest. rain’s hands are wrapped loose around dew’s middle, those freezing cold hands of theirs sometimes slipping underneath dew’s sweater and caressing the skin there. rain nuzzles into dew’s neck and peppers little kisses as their hands gently smooth over dew’s upper thighs and abdomen.

when rain’s hand wraps around the base of dew’s erection, the little spitfire melts further against rain. they set a slow, gentle pace. and dewdrop shivers and mewls through the whole thing, blindly grabbing around his body until he finds a perfectly grab-able part of rain’s clothes. when he cums, it’s quiet. and rain doesn’t hesitate to lick their own hand clean before softly kissing the mess into dewdrop’s waiting mouth.

✿ ＭＯＵＮＴＡＩＮ.

mountain isn’t necessarily more on the secretive side of sappy, per say? he’s just genuinely clueless about how the things he’s doing can be considered as ‘domestic’ or ‘sappy’.

he’s very observant. the kind of personality where if you offhandedly mention one thing, he’s going to remember it for the rest of his life. and he’ll surprise you with it to!!

when dewdrop shifted into a fire ghoul, his whole waking and sleeping routine was uprooted too. now his consciousness seems to quite literally be tethered to when the sun rises and sets.

mountain has since observed this in relation to the traditional group breakfast time.

if he isn’t too sore from working around the abbey and from rehearsals, mountain will do his best to wake up before the sun even rises, just so he can beat dew to the kitchen. he has this routine perfect timed and down to a borderline science.

by the time dewdrop lazily slinks his way over to the kitchen, there’s already a near boiling cup of coffee perfectly tailored to his magickally-influenced tastes, placed alongside a bowl of sugar, and a small canister of those flavored creamers dew likes using sometimes. the caramel ones. by then, mountain’s already preparing breakfast with some of the herbs he’s just harvested.

(dewdrop’s taste of whether he prefers black coffee or sweetened-to-heaven-and-back coffee depends greatly on his mood, so mountain never actually prepares his drink for him. but, regardless, since shifting his element to fire, his personal palette has grown pickier about the temperatures of most hot foods. if his food is borderline set aflame, his senses will think it’s gone cold. even though to the typical tastebud, it’s still really hot! it’s even more touching because mountain’s vessel is much more susceptible to burns and damage from heat thanks to his element, so the fact that the earth ghoul is quite literally risking the wellbeing of his hands just to make dewdrop a cup of coffee really gets the arousal pooling hot in his gut.)

something else that mountain will do is leave little notes to the various members of his pack and/or siblings and members of the church that he’s close with. while mountain isn’t necessarily social anxious when safe behind the ministry walls, he still sometimes finds it hard to communicate his wants and needs verbally. so, he’ll write and leave little notes instead.

most of the time they can be sweet and sappy, or even just straight and to the point instructions on how to do something. sometimes they’re fucking filthy—

whenever the notes are specifically directed at dewdrop, mountain’s always crafty enough to leave a breadcrumb trail of sorts that leads right back to him. because mountain knows that dewdrop always tries to chase him down.

the notes are always simple, but sweet. stuff like, “your hair looks pretty today”, “your outfit is cute”, “you performed really well today in rehearsal”, “you fucked swiss over real nice from that bet”. little things :)

they never fail to make dewdrop fucking soaked though.

when dew finally corners mountain in the greenhouse, by the chapel, in the abbey grounds, wherever- that little ghoul will fucking tackle mountain to the ground with an earth shattering kiss and the world’s tightest goddamn hug.

“god fucking damnit, mounty, your handwriting’s so fuckin’ pretty-“ “mhn, not as pretty as you look straddling my waist, sweetheart.”

dewdrop will ride mountain until they’re both seeing stars, and mountain will tell dewdrop about all the other notes he had planned to write before he was caught until dewdrop’s squirting with a keen.

✿ ＳＷＩＳＳ.

aether’s more obviously sappy. mountain and rain are more secretly sappy. but swiss is a genuine wildcard of the ghouls!

one thing's for certain, somehow swiss manages to make affection into a competition!

whereas rain and dew once had a... less wholesome rivalry between them, swiss and dew currently have a much more wholesome, friendly rivalry.

mountain and aether find it cute how the two ghouls somehow manage to make almost everything they do a competition.

swiss tossed dewdrop's favorite blanket into the dryer so he can be less cold on the couch? oh, fuck no.

dewdrop snatched some chocolate from a kind sibling and is saving half of it for swiss? not for long, bitch.

swiss has some clothes of his set aside specifically for dewdrop because he knows how much the little spitfire loves drowning in swiss' clothes? how dare he.

dewdrop shares some of his favorite breakfast with swiss because he woke up late and mountain has already retired to the greenhouse? how. fucking. dare. he.

haha! needless to say, the sappy side of their relationship is honestly just a series of them one upping the other.

whenever the two ghoul’s are both assigned similar cleaning duties, they make a competition out of it. who can clean the grand staircase quicker, who can trap more of copia’s rats, who can do the most dishes, that sort of thing.

(though sometimes both swiss and dew will ‘help the competition’, just to keep things ‘interesting’. though they’d both deny doing something that soft.)

but, there's sometimes moments where swiss will just collapse into a nest of his making for a long series of afternoon naps. and when dewdrop goes into his room to investigate, swiss traps the fire ghoul underneath his heavy arms, and the two fall asleep together.

they spend their day just cuddling and laughing together. blissfully left alone by the others who can probably hear the raucous laughter throughout the entire ghoul's wing.

"fuck, doll, i just adore spending time with you doing a whole buncha nothin'." and dew gets so fucking wet hearing the usually flirtatious swiss say something so soft like that.

swiss, predictably, makes fun of dewdrop for his sudden and clear arousal, trapping dew in his arms as his tail plays with his crotch.

they fuck the rest of the evening away and dewdrop once squirted when swiss said, "wanna keep you in my arms forever and make every day so lazy and lovely as today. just your pretty little face kept alllll to my selfish self, babydoll."

they’re usually inseparable for the rest of the night into the next day.

well, that’s a wrap! i know i only did the ghouls ‘cause i felt so bad holding onto this ask for so long, haha! but! I’ve definitely got my fair share of ramblings for the ghoulette, the older ghouls, and even the papas too!! :) haha, if anyone’s ever interested, i have quite a bit to say on this silly little idea, hehe! ♡

[missamyrisa2]

Well theres a version of feather sandwiches for the royal rod also?asking for a friend 👀👀

The Ghastly Feather Cafe at the bottom of the House of Laughs always serves up a buffet of fresh feather sandwiches with the plumpest of royal rods ~ and there's always an ample supply, as our Spectral Fairy at the entrance is ever so talented at directing the most sumptuous of sensitive looking guys with a hint of defiance down the far hallway ~ her glittery wings and sparkling smile and cascade of lavender hair always lures in the giggly boyyyys~ so that they might be led into the prep room with our culinary snicker crew, who will chase and tackle you, and strap you to a prep table so that your royal rod might be exposed and examined and prepped ~ though their faces are hidden in masked chef hats you can certainly see the grins and smirks in the way they work, dusting off your private area with a cloth after the garments have been cut away ~ and following a light brushing of a glittery powder, your royal rod is outfitted with a little flavor band, a buzzing ring which slides snugly on your base with a feathered lining. All that attention and lastly a tagging denoting the grade of your rod certainly is teasing enough, but it's only the start~ with the slam of a button the table slides towards a chute and the straps release, gliding you down into your place at the cafe. All along the buffet, royal rods and their jewels slide out of their holes, a tag hanging from each. You're afforded a nice view as the ghouls and witches and zombies shuffle in for their breaks. Maybe they won't notice. Okay maybe they'll notice but they won't pick you. But no such luck. A shambling mummy girl is eyeing your tag. She didn't get much action this shift and she has soo many tickles to work out ~ she picks up the feather utensils from the little mounts next to your display and goes to work making her sandwich. With a little flutter of the feather underneath the tickly tingly itch is already starting. The buzzing ring ensures you're double teased for every bit of ticklish arousal you show ~ and the second feather holding from the top keeps you absolutely dizzy with giggly gasps ~ But she can't be deterred no matter how much you scream and plead and beg and giggle ~ maybe she can't even hear you ~ you'll never know either way because her look of evil concentration at her feather sandwich could never be broken. Particularly not as she leans in to start tasting her concoction and you find out this wicked girly ghoul has a tongue like a snake~<3