#dew and mountain respectively

[max-uhhhh-talks]

Ultimately, the whole Swiss and Aurora thing all comes down to being respectful of individuals and their privacy. It's already been established that the members ALL play characters on stage, you should all know by now to keep what happens on stage seperate from the actual people behind the masks. Whether anyone of them is in a relationship is none of you're business, you aren't entitled to their personal information. It baffles me that some of you need to be reminded of this

Please use your heads for once. Even if either of them had their own relationships, you don't think they would bring up staged bits with their partners? You don't think they would communicate something like that before going through with them? And again, it's not like it's any of your business. Leave the members alone.

For the millionth time, they are playing characters onstage.

Just as they keep their personal lives seperate from the stage, you should do the same for them. You guys claim to love these members but draw the line at personal boundaries. Some of yall are adults acting like this, be better, be mature please.

[autumnblooms]

New art!! Brother and I went to a local tattoo convention and I got some awesome little flash babies 🤘🏼

[transsexualjoanofarc]

let me tell you this is michol corleoney wwere alive today creep would be his #1 most played song on spotify wrapped

[carcarrot]

eating celebratory cheez its

[eileennatural]

idk if this is just bc the internet has drastically changed the way we interact w each other and i just haven't adapted or if i'm socially awkward or ? but i feel like i was raised to have very old fashioned manners. and honestly i do get a little bit offended or bothered when other people are like. Publicly impolite

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 15th

Noncon, Possessed!Swiss x Reader

Masterlist ⛧ Hellish Delights Masterlist

Words: 6.8k

Warnings: Noncon; extreme horror; dead dove: do not eat; explicit use of the word “rape” throughout; public masturbation; exhibitionism; possession; violence; demonic asphyxiation; victim blaming; face-slapping; sexual violence; rape; rape-kink; characters acknowledge that it’s rape; piv; vaginal sex; unprotected sex; pain; degradation; public sex; mind break; underprepared; dacrophilia; unconcious sex; multiple scenes; dubcon; fear play; breeding kink; cum eating; accidental filming via security camera; creampie;

The Ghouls aren't demons in my fic. They're humans who work in the Ministry but they're a different class of profession, somewhere between personal assistants and body guards depending on the importance of Papa's task.

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this is dark fiction, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.

**WARNING**

This is a work of fiction based in the extreme horror category and should be treated as such. I do not condone the actions the characters make, nor am I actively encouraging others to participate in such actions in everyday life. It also does not reflect the personalities of the performers who play these characters.

The purpose of this fic is to shock, scare, entertain, and make readers entirely uncomfortable. If you are not in a headspace where you can safely read and enjoy this story, or even if the trigger warnings make you uncomfortable, I highly recommend and encourage you not to read this. Your mental health is more important than a work of fiction.

If you are struggling to come to terms with past trauma, please talk to someone and seek professional help.

You deserve to feel safe, loved and cared for. Thank you.

Sometimes rituals went wrong. That was one of the things you learned when you first joined the Ministry. Rituals go wrong and not every demon is your friend. Of course, the more rituals one participated in determined the success of said ritual just down to the fact that experience was a key ingredient and so it was always recommended to bring someone who had experience to every single ritual just to be safe.

Papa Copia’s Ghouls were the more experienced ones in the Ministry, but more specifically Mountain, Rain, Swiss, and Dew. Yourself and Phantom were mere babes in comparison; sweet summer children who knew nothing of life and Satanism, only sex rituals on pentagrams give funny dreams and great orgasms. Because of this, you and Phantom walked into the ritual room with a bit of a pep in your steps, and no worries or concerns whatsoever - not concerning yourselves with seriousness or responsibility. This was just a regular, sex magick ritual surrounded by friends in order to contact the Olde One and get some advice is all. You had done this perfectly before, and you had no reason to think it wouldn’t happen again.

You, Rain and Mountain began lighting the candles in the room, ten of them to be precise. One for each of the pentagram’s corners, and a further five to outline the space in between. Dewdrop, the most experienced of everyone there, was in charge of drawing the pentagram from scratch. The first step was to scrub away the existing paint from a previous Sibling’s ritual.

“Why are we doing this?” Phantom asked as he wrung out the hot, soapy water from the sponge.

Dew sighed, “Did you not pay attention during training, Phantom?”

Swiss was now on his hands and knees next to Dew scrubbing at the red paint with a hard-bristled brush. “Clearly not. Look at those eyes: no thoughts just vibes.”

Phantom threw some of the soapy water at Swiss, in turn earning himself a middle finger. “I didn’t have time to study, remember? I was just thrown straight into life here after Aether…” Phantom trailed off, remembering how so many people in the room weren’t ready to talk about what happened. There was a brief silence while they all cast their minds back to their long lost friend.

“We clean off the old pentagram,” Dew said, clearly exasperated by his Satanic brothers, “because we don’t know what kind of ritual our Siblings performed before we got here. Cleaning the floor allows us to better control the safety of our ritual.”

“What could happen if we don’t clean up?” Phantom asked. “Moreover, what would happen if we just built upon these lines?”

“Oh come on, Phantom.” You said. “Even I know that.” Phantom got on his knees and began scrubbing away the paint on his third of the pentagram. “The cross energy between rituals and magic opens up a gateway for negative energy to come through. Sometimes that energy is just bad karma or bad luck, and you have one hell of a week.”

Swiss, “Literally.”

You continued, “Or it’s the souls of the damned coming through, or worse, demons.��

Phantom, “Has the Dark One ever travelled through these portals?”

Dew, “Probably. But He doesn’t do it often.”

“What I still don’t understand is why demons and damned souls would want to hurt us, we’re all on the same side, after all.”

Mountain, “Catholicism. You give energy to things you believe in, which in turn makes it more powerful, right?” Phantom nodded. “This is why Lucifer Himself wouldn’t come to harm us because we love and worship Him as a friend, a lover, a brother etc. But according to Catholicism, why does Hell exist?”

“To punish bad people after they die.”

“And what do we know happens to these bad people when they spend an eternity being tortured by demons?”

“They become demons themselves.”

“Good boy, have a Scooby snack.” Mountain threw a packet of mini-Oreos at Phantom, who caught it with one hand.

Rain, “Some of those bad people become demons, not all of them. The majority of demons are created by Lucifer as assistants to Him, and they’re usually picked from the petty criminals rather than genocidal maniacs and bigoted pricks. Like Mephistopheles, for example. He was just a businessman before he died. Think Ebenezer Scrooge, but in real life. Stole from the poor to put in his back pocket. In comparison to say, I don’t know, Stalin, he wasn’t too bad of a guy. If Mephistopheles showed up, we would have a great time sending him back. We’d just have to watch our wallets.”

Phantom, “And if it’s one of the dangerous ones, it would be catastrophic?”

Dew, “Absolutely. Papa and the Clergy would have to get involved. Papa would have to contact the Olde One directly to come and drag the beast away. Contacting the Olde One with the ritual that Papa would need could put Papa in mortal danger. So, we clean to save Papa as well as ourselves. So, make sure you get every spot, you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

That was the first mistake made that night: no one double checked before the paint went down that the previous paint had been cleaned completely. From eye-level, everything looked squeaky. But what none of you realised at the time was there were small, insignificant specs of paint left in Swiss’ third. Insignificant specs, but by no means safe.

The second mistake was that when the candles were being placed on the freshly painted pentagram, one of them wasn’t precisely sat atop one of the points. The candles usually acted as an extra barrier of protection, essentially trapping something inside the pentagram if it came through uninvited. Lower level demons or spirits could still be trapped if the candles weren’t precise, but the higher level ones wouldn’t be stopped.

The five Ghouls were there to conduct the ritual on Papa’s behalf, you were there to provide the energy to allow them to do so. This wasn’t your first ritual and so you had no problems at all getting completely naked in front of the five men you considered to be close friends, and sitting in the centre of the pentagram. You’d been part of these rituals before with them, if you hadn’t already had a few of them balls deep inside you on multiple occasions beforehand. And so when they had all joined hands, you had no shyness or reservations about spreading your legs and exposing yourself to them. This would be the third mistake.

Swiss wasn’t concentrating fully. If you’d have opened your eyes and looked at your friends holding hands around you as they chanted, you would have seen Swiss looking directly at you with his mouth open, watching as you touched yourself surrounded by men. You would have seen that he was concentrating on your hands toying with your clit more than chanting the Latin required to safely perform the ritual. You could have stopped the ritual because of it - but you didn’t. You didn’t know that there was a problem.

Your head was thrown back in pleasure as your fingers worked over your clit. Your body was draining of energy the closer and closer you got to orgasm. In your line of sight, you could see Rain looking back at you but his mouth reciting the Latin he’d learned. You couldn’t see Rain’s eyes, though you were desperate to know what he looked like under there right now. All eyes were on you, and it turned you on so much to know that you were being intensely watched by five masked men as you dipped two fingers into your cunt and began to hit your g-spot.

Masked men, the fifth mistake.

Had they all removed their masks, everyone would have seen the biggest problem in the room: Swiss. Not only had he stopped chanting in order to concentrate on your wetness, but his head had begun twitching. Had he not worn his mask, others would have seen his eyes glaze over and roll back into his head. They’d have noticed the white dimming into pitch blackness. They’d have been able to break the circle and preemptively send the demon back to Hell before it could fully appear in the real world. But as hot as the masks were, and as much as you loved looking at them, they were impractical and unsafe for private rituals.

The air grew thick with an unholy presence, and a palpable darkness descended upon the ritual site. The very ground seemed to tremble beneath your feet as a foul wind swirled around you, extinguishing the candles one by one.

As the ritual reached its zenith, a sudden surge of malevolent force swept through the circle, causing you all to recoil in terror. Swiss let out a deep, yet blood curdling scream causing everyone in the room to stop what they were doing and freeze, yourself included. Your wet hand now removing itself from your core and your body sitting up straight in alarm. By the time you’d focused on him, Swiss had broken the circle and was cupping his head over his helmet, as though he was in immense pain. His screaming continued as he doubled over, bent at the waist and yelling at the floor. Swiss’ voice, now filled with an otherworldly resonance, grew louder and more insistent, his body trembling with an eerie energy. One of his hands began to hit at the mask in an attempt to stop whatever was causing him so much discomfort.

“Swiss!” Dew shouted, running over to his friend. “Brother, focus! Come back to us! Phantom! Go get help, now!”

Phantom nodded and ran out the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Swiss, it’s me: it’s Dew. What’s wrong, brother?”

“My… head!” Swiss exclaimed through gritted teeth. “It’s in my head!”

You stood up and dressed yourself, making sure that at least your habit was covering you. All the while, you watched as Dew frantically tried to get answers out of his brother, and figure out what went wrong so he could help. Swiss was still screaming, still trying to escape out of Dew’s grasp.

Then silence.

Swiss stood straight. Still. No more screams of pain, no more frantic Dew. You couldn’t even hear the world outside the ritual room. Just maddening silence that could drive a person to insanity if they were in it for too long. Everyone remained unmoving, fearing even breathing in case it triggered something. You wanted to leave, to escape the room and get help - or even just pull your friends out and save them. But your body wouldn’t move. It wouldn’t respond to your brain’s pleas to get the fuck away.

In that chilling moment, a grotesque transformation overtook Swiss. His voice, now distorted and filled with malice, spoke words that were not his own. It was a demon that had taken hold of him, a malefic entity summoned from the abyss.

The demon had been called forth by all of the mistakes made that night. It reveled in the chaos and despair that surrounded it, relishing the opportunity to wreak havoc upon the mortal realm. With Swiss as its vessel, the demon’s power knew no bounds.

The demon’s dark presence continued to grow, casting a sinister pall over the entire Ministry. Outside of the room, a sense of unease began to spread. Siblings and Ghouls alike could feel the malevolence that radiated from the heart of the Ministry, an unnatural darkness that seemed to seep into their very souls. It was as if the very fabric of reality had been torn asunder, and the boundary between the mortal realm and the abyss had grown thin.

Everyone was simply afraid to speak, to move, to even breathe. There was a comfort in the silence that couldn’t be explained other than Swiss hadn’t attacked anyone or made any movements. You weren’t even sure if Swiss was still in there. No one move, no one blink, no one make any sounds.

Swiss moved first - his head shifting from Ghoul to Ghoul to you as though he were studying you all. He seemed more like a caged animal than a human as he weighed up his options, though he wasn’t entirely registering what he was seeing. Each room was designed with at least some kind of demonic suppressor so you knew whoever had stolen Swiss from you didn’t have the full extent of his powers. But as he’d barely done anything, you still couldn’t gauge just how dangerous he was.

Suddenly, Swiss’ eyes locked onto you and focused on nothing else. Your body was still very scantily clad in your habit, your legs fully on display even though you were hiding behind Mountain. Swiss’ mouth curled up into a sinister smile. “He likes you.” Two voices emerged from his throat, the first being Swiss’ sweet timbre, the second the demonic entity inside of him. “I am in his head. I know. I see.” He took a small step forward. “He has sinned against you. He does so nightly.” Another step. “He imagines things in his chambers when he is alone. He wants to bury himself deep inside you. Even today during the ritual, he considered getting on his knees and taking you in front of everyone.” Another step. That was when you all realised the final mistake: you.

Swiss got possessed because he was watching you masturbate in front of him. He got possessed because he was craving your body, your touch. He got possessed because he was concentrating on how you’d feel wrapped around him and didn’t pay attention to the most important things. You never should have been chosen for the ritual. You never should have agreed.

Swiss spoke again. “I think we should give him what he wants, don’t you?”

“You stay away from her!” Dew shouted. He’d gained enough confidence and bravery to step forward, arms outstretched, and ready to restrain Swiss. Or at least attempt to anyway. Dew was much, much smaller than Swiss, so even when he wasn’t possessed by a demonic entity, restraining him alone would have been damn near impossible. But the added power now coursing through Swiss’ human veins made restraint way more difficult.

All Swiss had to do was lift his hand and Dew was levitating from the ground. A simple push saw Dew flying backwards, his head smacking against the wall and his body falling limp to the floor.

“Dew!” Rain shouted. It was a natural reflex done out of fear and it caused him to lurch forward. The demon, presuming Rain had moved to attack him, copied the motion and threw Rain against the wall too, the sweetest of all the Ghouls now unmoving on the other side of the room.

Mountain still held you behind him and for every step the demon took towards you, Mountain moved you backwards. You could tell he was trying to move you towards the door without taking his eyes off of Swiss. But deep down you both knew that while Mountain was a worthy opponent for Swiss, he was no match for the thing possessing him. All Mountain could do was hope that you at least got out of the room safely especially now that the demon had its eyes on you.

“Give her willingly and your life will be spared.” Swiss’ two voices cut through the panicked silence.

“No.” Mountain said.

Swiss raised his hand into a fist and concentrated on Mountain. Mountain, like the others, was now being raised off the ground, but this time Swiss was being torturous, enjoying the pain he was inflicting internally. Mountain grasped at his throat as if a hand had been wrapped around it, and struggled to get air into his lungs. “___,” he choked out, “go!”

Somehow your body responded to the sound of his voice and you made a break for the door. There was a part of you that knew you’d never reach it - that knew you’d end up in a worse fate than your friends, but you still tried anyway. Maybe if you left, you would be able to find more help to bring. Maybe you’d run into Phantom or Papa, just someone who could come and save everyone. You refused to believe that they were all dead - you would have given up if you thought that. So for all the good it did you, you chose to run. You chose to fight as best you could.

Behind you, Mountain’s body thudded to the floor, but you could hear him gasping for breath. Swiss, who was now focussing on you trying to make your escape, didn’t put the full extent of his powers into hurting Mountain as he did Dewdrop and Rain. Mountain was weakened from the impact but he wasn’t unconscious… yet. But now you had no protection - now you were completely vulnerable.

You managed to get the door open, but by then, it was too late, Swiss had already come up behind you and slammed it shut again. His large hands grabbed onto your waist, thick fingers digging into your flesh and manoeuvring you to where he wanted you. Your own back slammed against the door and you were met with Swiss’ cold, unfeeling mask, glass eyepieces only showing a glimpse of the blackened eyes that had completely stripped away the humanity from one of your closest friends. His once beautiful smile brought you nothing but happiness now evil and no doubt the last thing you’d ever see. You struggled, fighting against the unholy strength that had caught you, but of course, you were no match for him - in fact, he seemed to enjoy you struggling. In your frantic movements, your hip grazed his and you felt his cock now standing hard beneath his Ghoulish uniform. You knew what was coming.

He cackled, the two voices giving a creepier edge to something so joyous. His free hand came to remove the helmet and allowed you to gaze at the face that was going to bring you so much pain. His eyes were, indeed, as black as you’d been told. Veins were popping from beneath his skin, no doubt Swiss straining from the inside to expel the demon from within but failing miserably. Even though you could hear it wasn’t Swiss, and you could see the eyes certainly weren’t his, it was so difficult to differentiate between demon and human. Your brain struggled reminding you that Swiss wasn’t the one who’d hurt your friends; that he wasn’t the one rubbing his clothed cock against your thigh; that his hand wasn’t squeezing one of your soft breasts so painfully hard; that it wasn’t his tongue licking a stripe from your neck to your ear.

You pushed against his large chest trying to distance yourself, but it was as if you were trying to move the Ministry itself. He wasn’t budging. “Get. Off. Me!” You grunted in your exertion.

“This Ghoul wants you - you would deny him? You would deny him after the show you put on for him?”

“There was no show!”

“Really? Because you angled your body to give him the perfect view of,” the hand that was on your breast now moved to your crotch and gripped your vulva tightly - so tightly you screamed, “this cunt. You wanted him to touch you. You were asking for him to take you. Begging for it, were you not?”

“I wasn’t!”

“Lying whore!” He slapped your face hard enough to leave a mark, the bite knocking you off kilter for a second and making the room spin. He grasped hold of your cheeks and forced you to look at him. He took his opportunity to kiss you, forcefully pressing his mouth to yours and using his tongue to lick over your unresponsive lips. Taking this opportunity, you kneed him in his crotch now extra sensitive from all the blood that had pooled there. This gave you enough respite from his attack to push him away from you and attempt an escape. The door was locked shut this time, though. And it didn’t matter anyway, he was faster than you thought.

His thick forearm wrapped around your neck and pulled your body flush against his. “You like pain, hm?” This time, when he spoke, he used only Swiss’ voice. He tightened his arm and began cutting off the air supply to your lungs. “You want me to make it hurt?”

“Swiss!” You choked from his anaconda-like grasp. “Stop!”

“He cannot help you now, little one. But I have made sure he can see everything.”

With one hand on your shoulder, he released you from his chokehold long enough to push you hard to the ground. As you stumbled and collapsed, you felt the skirt of your habit rising up over your bare ass cheeks, which earned another menacing snicker from the demon. “Look at you. The little Jezebel is ready for her master’s cock.”

“No!”

You got onto your hands and knees ready to stand and run, but you felt Swiss’ boot on your exposed backside and stamping you back down flush to the floor. Wasting no more time or effort, he straddled your hips to keep you pinned down and pressed his entire weight onto you. Over the sound of your struggling, you heard his jeans zipper undoing.

“Still some energy in you, I see.” He taunted as he placed his hands where his thighs were and moved further down your body, still fighting you. “I wonder how long that will last.”

You braved a look behind you to see if there was anything further you could do, but caught a glimpse of what Swiss was sporting under his clothes. Now he was fully exposed, you truly saw his length and girth for what it was and dread pooled in your stomach. The pain you were about to feel was beyond terrifying.

“Which hole should we rape?” Swiss asked, lining himself up with your ass and rubbing against the rim. “This one?”

“No! Please! Let me go!”

“Or this one?” He then rubbed over the entrance to your cunt and gasped. “She is wet! The whore is ready to accept Satan’s gift! She wants it even though she deludes herself otherwise.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Ghoul, which hole do you fantasize about the most, hm? Which one do you want us to rape today?” There was silence for a moment and you could swear you heard Swiss’ screams - similar screams to when he was first possessed. “Her tight, little cunt hm?”

He lined up once more with your hole, and you tried again to escape from underneath him. “Swiss! Please stop! Please! No!” Your wriggling proved useless when you felt him press inside you.

The pain was beyond anything you’d felt before, a searing white hot pain that shot through your entire body and only continued the more of him entered you. He wasn’t gentle with his movements, as expected from a demon. He bottomed out almost immediately, hitting your cervix roughly and causing you to scream. “He was right,” Swiss said, “you do feel incredible. This hole was made for cock, no wonder he spent all his time drooling over you.” He pulled out and thrust back in laughing at your pain-filled scream. “I have kept him awake so that he can remember this gift the Unholy Father has bestowed. More material for him to think about in the darkness of his room.”

“Please, stop!” Your voice was high pitched now and tears were staining your cheeks as your hands covered your mouth to muffle your cries. Your distraught sobs caught the demon’s attention, however, and he wanted his gratification.

He wrapped Swiss’ hand in your hair and tugged your face off the floor. Your mouth was hung open from your weeping and your screams escaped every time he thrust in and hit your cervix. “That is right, scream for him. Let him know how good you feel on his cock.” The sound of your cunt swallowing him made him speed up his movements, entirely enthralled by your body accepting him properly. “Show him how you love being raped by his fat cock.”

“P-please stop!”

He groaned. “Keep begging for me to stop. Keep crying for me. You get tighter every. Single. Time.” He thrust between each word, getting rougher and rougher with you.

With his hand in your hair, your head was lifted and you could look around the room. As your body was pushed along the floor by the power of his hips, your tears blurred your vision but you could still see your friends laying lifeless in front of you - spread in all manner of ways. None of them could save you. None of them could help you. If they were even alive. Your thoughts turned to Phantom, outside of this room searching for someone to come and exorcise the demon back to Hell. Your fear became overpowering at the thought of the sweet newcomer walking in and seeing you pinned beneath Swiss, being raped by someone you all used to love and trust. Would anyone else understand that this wasn’t Swiss hurting you? Would Swiss even survive the exorcism?

In a moment of adrenaline from the fear you felt, you shifted your body using all the strength you could muster. You wrapped your legs around his calves, swung your arm to hit his face and proceeded to turn as if you were about to lie on your back. Swiss didn’t anticipate this and so slipped out of you for a brief moment, falling off of you. Wasting no time, your weak legs forced you onto your feet and you ran towards the door once more. Your brain was clearer than before allowing you to unlock the door this time. But as you opened it, once again, Swiss pushed it closed.

“Clearly I have not broken you yet.”

By the collar of your habit, he pulled you back to give him the space to stand in front of you. His hand, now tightly closed in a fist, backhanded your cheek and all you saw was black.

When you came to, your jaw ached so badly. Your vision was blurred and it took a while to come to. Your hands were held above your head as you lay on your back, a large hand holding them together and restraining you. As your head was turned to its side, you saw Mountain and Rain laying next to each other, still entirely unconscious and unmoving. But you were still being attacked.

Now that you were pinned to the floor, and had been out for you didn’t know how long, Swiss had chance to fully savour you. Your habit had been torn town the middle, exposing you completely to the demonic eyes you were now staring into, those very eyes entranced by the way your breasts bounced from the roughness of his thrusts. His cock was now spearing into you much harder than before, the position allowing him to fuck into you deeper. His pubic mound was grinding against your clit as he pounded away, and for the first time that night you were feeling pleasure with the pain.

“I knew you wanted this.” Swiss said from above you upon hearing the small pleasured whimper that escaped you. “I knew you were a whore who loved getting raped. How you would spread your legs for anyone who offered you a bit of attention. I am not wrong, am I?” You moaned again accidentally, this time louder. “Say it. Tell me how much you love it. Tell him that you love it when he rapes you.” When you didn’t obey, he wrapped his hands around your throat. “Say it!”

“I love it!” You shouted reluctantly. “I love being raped!”

Somehow this wasn’t a lie. Since waking up, every hit against your cervix, every drag of his cock against your walls felt delicious. The demonic black of his eyes, the thick hands that held you down had you spreading your legs wider to let him continue abusing your hole. You were getting wetter and wetter with each thrust, more desperate to cum than ever before. You fear dissipated and was replaced with nothing but cock. The weight of it driving you crazy, the way he used you for his own pleasure and revelled in your agony. How he lowered himself to lick your tears away and bury himself inside you over and over again.

“There you go. That was not difficult. You got so much tighter too.”

Your screams turned from pain to desperation. Your mouth hung open in a perfect O. His cock had broken you, stripped you of everything and turned you into his own, personal toy. You sat up as much as you could to see where you both were connected. You saw the base of his cock was rimmed with white where your wetness had turned to cream and stuck in his pubic hairs. Each pull out of you had multiple strings of your own juices forming and snapping. You could feel yourself spilling out of your hole and running down your body, gathering on the wooden floor below you. Fuck! It felt so fucking good.

“Will you cum on his cock? Will you cum on the cock that rapes you?”

“Yes!” You screamed looking back up into his eyes. “I’m gonna c-cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-!”

The door opened right as your orgasm hit, your mind clouding over and drool dripping from your mouth as you came all over Swiss’ cock. The last thing you remember seeing was Papa Copia’s eyes look into yours in horror as you came like a desperate whore while your close friend took you against your will. Then the world went black.

When you came to, your eyes refused to open at first. Your head was pounding from the physical trauma and there was a deep-seated pain in your core that sent stabbing pains through your legs every time you moved them.You groaned and tried to sit up but your body refused to respond. The heart monitor beside you kept bleeping letting you know that you were, in fact, alive, but also that you were currently in the infirmary. But there was another sound coming from the foot of your incredibly uncomfortable bed. When your eyes finally opened it took you a while to fully process what you were seeing.

Swiss.

In a moment of pure fear, you panicked and tried to move further up the bed, as far away from him as you possibly could. You could feel a scream building in your throat, but your jaw hurt you too much to move it. Even still, your fear didn’t care. Swiss’ eyes were back to normal, and glassy with unshed tears. His face, pale and sickly, stained with the tears he had cried. He looked awful - his veins tinted a little black from the pressure of the demon inhabiting his body.

“Please, don’t scream!” He said quickly. “It’s me again. The demon’s gone.” You wanted to open your mouth and ask him what he was doing there, but your jaw wouldn’t move. “Your jaw isn’t broken, but it’s badly bruised from where I…” He started crying again, burying his head on your bed. “I’m so fucking sorry!” He wept hard, your heart breaking for him every time you saw his shoulders violently shake. “I hurt you so b-bad. I’m so sorry! I d-didn’t want to do any of th-those things. I tried - I tried to stop but it was t-too… strong. It w-wasn’t me!”

Deep down you knew it wasn’t. You knew Swiss would never hurt you like that because he never had. He’d never shown that level of ferocity and violence to anyone or anything. He was the kindest soul in the Ministry - a ray of sunlight the morning after a storm. Before all of this, you would have trusted him with anything, your life included. But even though reason told you he wasn’t the monster that attacked you, your brain still registered him as the attacker. When you saw his eyes before he hid them, you could have sworn for a brief moment they were still black. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him that it was okay and you forgave him even though there wasn’t anything to forgive. But there was such a hesitation. An annoying voice in the back of your head saying “what if”? What if that really was him? What if they didn’t exorcise the demon out? They must have otherwise he’d be in chains in the dungeons right now. So, you reached your hand out and touched his head, gently stroking at his hair. Tears were falling down your face too as your brain replayed the trauma.

When you both had calmed down a little, and Swiss was no longer hiding his face from you, you both sat in silence staring at each other. You were studying his face for imperfections and signals that he was unsafe, and he was studying yours for any hints of fear that should tell him he needed to go. “I know it’s selfish of me being here.” He said. “It only happened yesterday. I’m not supposed to be here. Papa’s going to come and talk to you when you’re feeling stronger, he wants you to decide my punishment.”

You shook your head. You didn’t want to punish him.

“Everyone else is fine. Dew has a broken shoulder but he’ll live. Rain has concussion. Mountain’s up and out of the infirmary with no problems at all.” Your mind cast itself back to yesterday, watching Swiss barrel through them and throw them around like children’s toys. How helpless you felt when he was inside you and they were all in the room, knocked out from his attack. How none of them helped you.

“I shouldn’t have come but I needed to see you. I feel so guilty. I…” he hesitated. “I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. I felt everything the de- he did to you. I heard everything, saw everything, felt everything. And you felt so… especially when… fuck! I know I shouldn’t but I keep remembering and my body reacts. I’ve used my hand so many times since but nothing compares to… I need it. I need you. One more time. Please.”

There was a feeling of dread pooling in your stomach again but you could understand where he was coming from. Since you’d been awake and your mind was showing you the images from yesterday, you were also losing your mind. You remembered everything in graphic detail, especially how good it felt when you woke up on the floor. Arousal began to replace the dread and your thighs rubbed together, making you hiss in pain. But the pain and the arousal seemed to control you, and for some reason unbeknownst to you, you nodded your head.

Swiss didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled back the comforter and climbed onto the bed. He lifted up the infirmary nightgown you were wearing and exposed your abused hole to him. You could see his cock tenting through his own nightgown at the sight of you. You were so broken and vulnerable, and it did things to him he knew he’d feel guilty for later on. But he just couldn’t resist any longer. It was like he was addicted to you. To it. “I can’t promise I’ll be gentle.” He told you. He lifted your gown further up to expose your breasts again before pulling himself free and lining himself up. You wanted to tell him to not be gentle, to disrespect you like he had yesterday, but the words couldn’t come out.

Pushing into you, you felt the same searing pain you felt the first time he did. You were so under prepared yesterday and even more so today. But after a few uncomfortable thrusts, the pleasure returned once more, and your hands, now finally responding, flew to his shoulders and grasped on, digging your nails into his skin.

His mouth had hung open and his own grunts and moans were escaping as he lost himself in the pleasure and the memory of your fear. You were deprived of this yesterday - and you were convinced that if you’d heard how good he felt, you’d have given up fighting long before you did.

“You feel even better than yesterday.” He muttered. His thrusts got rougher and you could feel the infirmary bed moving beneath you, groaning at the weight and the intense movement. “I kept thinking about how wet you got. The way you creamed on my fucking cock. I came twice to that thought alone. Fuck!”

Though your jaw was in pain, you were still able to whimper from the feeling of his fat cock railing you in a similar fashion to yesterday. Your own noises kept spurring him on.

“And when you screamed, yelling out how much you loved me raping you. Fucking hell. I want to hear it again. I want to hear you beg me to rape you over and fucking over. I want to keep you speared on my cock and make you cum on it because I just won’t stop raping you.”

You tightened at the thought, which made him let out a particularly loud moan.

“You want that, too?”

You nodded.

“Fuck. You want me to turn you into a little fucking rape toy, hm? A fuck-slut that’s only good for taking my fucking cum against her will. Have you beg me to stop while also sucking my cock back into your little hole.”

You dug your nails in again which prompted his hips to smack forward and whack your cervix.

“I’ll do it. Shit. I’ll find you when you’re out of the infirmary and I’ll force you to the fucking floor. I’ll take what I want from you when I want. You want that?”

You nodded.

“Fucking hell, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum again. I came inside you yesterday too. They had a hard time pulling me off you. I just kept holding onto your hips and railing you into the floor. I’m gonna keep doing it now. Use you as my fucking cum receptacle. Rape a baby into you too. Show everyone who this hole belongs to.”

You tightened and moaned again.

“I went feral when they pulled me off of you and I saw my cum spilling out. Proof that I’d - fuck I’m cu-cumming!”

Once again he pushed himself as far into you as he possibly could and stilled, painting your walls with his seed.

No one else had ever made you feel that good before. The fact that he was recreating the shared trauma also did things to you that you couldn’t quite explain. You knew he was suffering as much as you were, that the guilt was eating away at him in the same way the fear was. Maybe that was why you willingly spread your legs for him this time, because you needed someone who knew to make you feel good.

When he’d finished, he watched himself spilling out of you. “Fuck…” he lamented. “No tissues. You didn’t cum.”

You wanted to tell him not to bother, that a nurse might show up midway through. You knew how bad it would look that the man who’d raped you had come back for seconds not twenty-four hours after the incident. But even if you could speak, he wouldn’t listen.

He bent down and placed his tongue in your hole, licking his cum out of you. He swirled his tongue around your cunt, trying to find the parts of you that would tip you over the edge. Once he’d determined that you were clean enough, he moved up to your clit and sucked. Hard. It was like he knew that his treatment of you yesterday meant that you needed it rough today too, and so he did his best to deliver. He didn’t let up until you came on his face, your own juices spilling out of you. You did your best to muffle the scream that was threatening to come out of you as you tipped over the edge, hyper-aware of the fact that a nurse could come rushing in to make sure you were okay. Swiss knew this too and so finished up as quickly as he possibly could.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?”

You nodded and watched him press a kiss to your temple, completely juxtaposing his treatment of you both yesterday and today before making his exit back to his own ward.

You watched him leave and let your eyes wander around the room. That was when you noticed it and froze in panic. There was a security camera in the top corner of the room… and it had just captured everything.

Kinktober: Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

Hellish Delights:

Masterlist ⛧ Hellish Delights Masterlist

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[user2772636]

Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

Experimenting is bound to give you attention. Magazines are trending, and not just in the women's department. A one-eyed boy who has recently been caught with something vulgar has respect for women. How surprising.

===

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: boys being boys (worse than b4), swearing, one-sided anger, reference to a movie (Hot Rod), love triangle again (new character??), fluff (finally?!?!?!)

===

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Chapter four: Flashy Magazines

===

I flip through page by page the new magazine I bought. It was imported from america, and the second I heard of it, I ran to the nearest booth.

That was yesterday. Today is Monday morning. I woke up a little earlier to scroll through my said magazine and look for inspiration. I thought I'd do something different. A bit more bold.

Hair bumps and bangs. A style well worn by Priscilla Beaulieu, the speculated lover of Elvis Presley. The magazine was filled with her.

I grab my scissors, lifting my head to look into my bathroom mirror. I read the directions on the magazine, parting a small section at the middle of my hair, pulling it in front of my eyes.

I take a deep breath in. A click from the scissors is heard. Not half bad, I say to myself. I shag it a little, smiling to myself.

I continue to read the instructions to Priscilla's hair bump, deciding to make it just a small bump, curling the ends, then adding hair spray to keep it all intact. Once I was done , I added a pair of pearl earrings.

There's a new dress waiting for me in my closet. It was a present from my parents. A knee-length flowy dress with a boat neckline and a thin strap belt, all in the colour of watermelon red.

I put it on, patting down the skirt, and grab my kitten heels. I pray that I don't get caught. This is probably how Michèle felt on the first day of school.

I take one last look in the mirror. I looked older, like a proper lady. I straighten my back and smile strainedly. I breathe out slowly.

I grab my satchel and coat, then head out of my flat. Walking to school, eyes follow me. From my lovely neighbour to the men smoking cigarettes in the street. I don't mind them and continue to make my way to school.

Once I get there, I see Laubrac walking away from Michèle. I walk up to her and put on a smile.

"Michèle. How have you been?" I lean in to hug her.

"Wow, Y/N. You're stunning. You look like you were made to be in movies." Michèle laughs, and I laugh with her.

"Don't go that far." We smile at each other and make it through the gate. Once again, eyes are on me, younger this time.

We look towards the bathroom, seeing Felbec run towards it, then get rejected access through. A tall frame pushes him away, and I knew exactly who it was. I furrow my eyebrows.

A boy then comes running through the gate, shouting out how he has the money. I notice Annick as she suddenly walks away. When he makes it there, the school bell rings. I laugh, watching him move around disappointed.

××《☆》××

"Literary salons are almost always hosted by women. Madame de Sèvignè, Madame de Lafayette." Our teacher says as he leans on his table with his arms.

The lecture fades, and all I hear is the tapping of my heels on the hardwood floor.

"Dupin." Our teacher calls out. I turn around to take a look, but my eyes lock with one. I squint at Descamps, then shift my eyes to Dupin.

"As you won't stop talking, you seem well-versed on the subject. Can you share your thoughts on the salons with us?" Dupin stands, and I smile softly, seeing his embarassed state.

I turn my head back to the front, but a stare stays on me, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

I ignored it at first, and then it started to get annoying. So I turned, and I saw him, and he was smiling. He's smiling. Every time I look at him, either he looks dead inside (though, in my opinion, no dead person could look that pretty.), or he's smiling. And that's what he's doing. He's smiling.

How I wish I could wipe it off.

××《☆》××

My ears pound as I hear Ms. Giraud's voice. I might go deaf, but I keep my composure. The bell rings, and we're finally dismissed.

I hear rushed shuffling. Ms. Giraud calls out to the boy.

"Are you in a rush, Lamazière?" Ms. Giraud yells. I notice it's the same boy that ran to the bathroom with money in his hand.

He gets punished, and I laugh quietly. I grab my things, rushing up to the girls.

"Hey, I need to go to the bathroom. Continue walking without me." They nod, and we part ways.

After using the toilet, I look at myself in the mirror. I never expected that. How conscious I'd be of my looks, my movements, and my habits.

Maybe it comes with the fact I dressed up. But for what, I start to wonder. I don't know why I dressed up in the first place. I know I said for a change, but is that really all?

A flash of an eye comes to mind. I quickly shake it off. No way. Not him.

I clear my throat, then grab my things. I hastily walk out the bathroom, suddenly needing fresh air. As I make it to the hallway of the stairwell, footsteps slow down, and eyes follow me. I stop in my tracks.

I scanned through them, what face they were wearing while looking at me. I look down on myself. I still looked presentable, so what were they looking at?

I start to walk, my eyes following the faces of the boys. Each step I take down feels slower. One flight finished, and I stop glancing at them. My feet tap on the porcelain floor of the stairs as I keep my head down.

One flight left, a tall frame walks into the school. He turns to the stairs, and I stop. Descamps stares at me. I stare at him. He then looks up and sees plenty of eyes on me. I see his jaw clench.

He claps his hands. I flinch at the echo of it.

"Will you boys keep staring, or will I go shopping for a new eye with all of yours?" This gets them moving. The stairwell is noisy again.

I turn my head back to Descamps, and I glare. Hard. I walk towards him, and then I'm reminded of our height difference. I crane my neck upward.

"I could've handled myself, you know?" I squint my eyes, and all he does is stare. Why is he just staring? Can't we fight already? I feel my cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"Are you just gonna stare or are you gonna sa-"

"You're beautiful." I barely even heard it. But I did. Then I acted like I didn't.

"What?" I stutter out, flushed cheeks redder than before.

"You're miserable. You clearly needed my help." I scoff, the comforting warmth I felt quickly replaced with boiling anger.

"Just leave me alone, Descamps." I walk away, and into the courtyard.

Who does he think he is? Some knight in shining armour? He's more like a thief in the streets. But then no thief could be as annoying, as dreadful, as smiley as him. That stupid smile, and those stupid words, and his stupid face. Stupid, stupid face. Sometimes I just wanna grab it and-

I stop in my tracks. There's a line in front of the boys' bathroom. What would they be lining up for? I see a mop of blonde hair and framed eyes. Applebaum. He hasn't talked to me, hasn't said hi, and I always wonder if I'd done anything wrong.

But he's the past. I guess he just doesn't like me. It's too bad. I had high hopes for him. A whip of air pushes by me, and it's Descamps again. He's jogging towards the bathroom. He's collecting coins from them. Really, what's going on?

I look in front of me. Michèle and Simone are seated on the stairs. I sigh in relief. I sit beside them.

"I can't do this anymore. All the boys, they're dreadful. Why did I come here in the first place?" I groan. The girls watch me, amused.

"Because you moved here from Paris and-" I cut Simone off.

"Rhetorical." I mutter. She purses her lips shut.

Michèle clears her throat. "So, you think you'll get married?" I lift my head up.

"To who?" My eyes are wide open as well as my ears.

"Eugène. Simone's lover boy." I cover my mouth in shock.

"What? I thought you had a thing for-" Simone cuts me off this time.

"No. It's a little too soon for that." She answers Michèle's question. I mouth sorry. She nods.

"Aren't you worried he'll want to take things further?" Michèle asks Simone. I started to click the pieces together. I bite on my lip to hide my smile.

"I don't know." Simone smiles at the thought. "Can I have a bite? Thanks." She says as she grabs Michèle's apple and takes a bite from it.

"I hope I find a husband soon. So I can get out of my parents house." I nod at Michèle's statement.

"That's true. But hopefully, no one from here. I'd rather die." They laugh at my overreaction, but honestly, I might just die than marry anyone here.

Well, except for one, maybe. Who, I ask myself. Right. Who am I even talking about? My eyes drift to a one-eyed boy. No. Don't even think about it.

Descamps as a husband? I laugh to myself.

Sure, I can imagine him going to work, coming home, smoking a cigarette or two as he reads the news.

Lounging in the living room one lazy afternoon, shirt slightly unbuttoned and pants a bit loose. Eating breakfast with his family, cooking with his wife (who, for some reason, looks almost like me. Very weird.), kissing her shoulders as his arms wrap around her waist.

His scent, his soft lips, his large frame. Carrying his kids in his arms as he spins them around the backyard. Teaching his son how to catch, playing dolls with his daughter, taking a break on a bench, one arm on his thigh, and the other on me.

Me? I shake my head. No, not me. His wife. Certainly not me. I grimace at the thought. Why would I even?

I sigh deeply, frustratedly. These damn thoughts are infuriating, just like him.

"Happy New Year, Ms. Palladino." My trance gets cut off.

"You too, Sir." Simone responds. I clear my throat, composing myself.

Michèle calls out for her uncle and gets up. I wonder what she's going to do. I don't pay much mind as I scoot over to Simone.

"It's Jean Pierre, isn't it?" She flinches.

"What do you mean?" I roll my eyes at her response.

"You know what I mean. Eugène? It's definitely Jean Pierre." Her cheeks flush, and she drops her head.

"I'm happy for you, really." I smile as she lifts her head, hope in her eyes. My smile wavers a bit. "But how will you tell Michèle?"

Her eyes lose that hope, and she looks away.

"I don't know. He said we shouldn't because she'll never let us see each other again."

"But one day, you'll have to." I grab her hand and rub it gently. She sighs.

"I wish you luck." I whisper, then hug her. She hugs me back. Once we pull away, Michèle sits with us again.

"He didn't want to lend it to me. What does 'adult' mean." I raise my eyebrows and puff out my cheeks, clearly not wanting to answer her question.

Michèle looks around. "What's up with everyone today?"

"You only noticed now?" I chuckle.

"Come with me." Me and Simone get up, following Michèle. She walks and calls towards Pichon.

"What's going on in the bathroom?" Pichon pauses. Too long of a pause.

"Nothing." I squint at him. Obviously not nothing.

"Somethings been going on in there today."

"Not at all. Nothing's going on." Pichon tries to walk away, but I stop him with a palm to his chest.

"Really? Why did you react that way when you ran into Mr. Bellanger?" I start to talk.

"What do you mean?" This is getting annoying.

"Don't act dumb. We know you aren't." I snap at him. "Now, why was your face all red?"

"No. It's not red." I furrow my eyebrows, now really getting angry. I almost shove him before Michèle holds me back.

"Simone, is his face red?" I ask her.

"It's red. Very red." I look back at Pichon and raise my eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

"It's not. It's just my complexion." I try to lunge at him, but Michèle's hands are tight on me.

"So you're not gonna tell us?" Michèle calls out for him. I whip my arms off of Michèle's hold, and she's quick to let me go.

"Of course he won't." I glare at the back of his head.

The bell rings.

××《☆》××

Descamps' group walks into the class together. They're rushing a bit.

"And Applebaum?" One of them asks.

"He's gonna sprain something." Descamps answers. Sprain what? What are they doing in that bathroom anyway?

"He's gonna go deaf." Oh. A shiver runs down my spine as I gag. Gross.

I hear Michèle ask Simone something, probably about what the boys are talking about. I don't wanna tell her.

Ms. Couret walks in and greets us. We're granted to sit. The door opens.

"Didn't you hear the bell, Mr. Applebaum." I gag again seeing him. I should've known he was like everyone else. To believe I might've given him a chance. I grimace.

The boys whisper and laugh. There's a boiling in my stomach. Ms. Couret moves on to the topic.

"Do you know the Beatles?" This catches my attention. No one answers, until Pichon does.

"The British band?" Ms. Couret nods.

"Yes. Let's see if those names ring a bell." I shuffle on my seat, giving my full attention to the discussion.

I don't notice the boys passing around a magazine 'till it comes flying towards Michèle's table. I peek over, and in front of her lies a flashy magazine.

××《☆》××

"He said if we didn't give him a name, the class would get detention every Thursday." Pichon says as everyone huddles in to listen. I feel a warm frame over and behind me, but I ignore it, thinking it's just another classmate.

"Then we all get detention." Dupin states, as if it wasn't already obvious.

"The whole class." Pichon exclaims.

"Even the girls?" My brows furrow. What did we do to be blamed?

"Everybody." We all stop.

"That's not fair." Simone says, and I nod with her.

"Right. What did we do? It was you guys who were being perverts." I call out.

I get more frustrated when a chest bumps into me. It's the same frame I felt earlier. I turn around, and I'm met with Descamps.

"You. You were the ones selling the magazine and passing it around." I glare at him.

"You're disgusting. I don't want you near me." I turn again and bid a quick goodbye to the girls then head home.

"Pardine!" I hear Descamps call out. I roll my eyes and keep walking. Once we're in a quieter area, he grabs my arm and gently pushes me to a wall.

"Please. I swear I would never." I glare up at him.

"Then why were you passing it around?" I ask him, tilting my head up.

His pants fill my ears. It's worrying. I place a hand on his chest.

"Calm down." I state, the worry etched in my voice.

He relaxed under my touch, I felt it, the way his muscles stopped being tense. I kept my face hard.

"Now, explain." My voice comes out demanding.

"I needed some money. What better way to collect it quickly than when there's hundreds of prepubescent boys in one school?" I roll my eyes. I almost walk away before he cages me in the wall with his arms.

"Please. Just... listen. I needed money, okay? I wanted to save up for... for..." He stutters, and my brows crease more.

"For?" I raise my brows, expecting an answer.

"For... records. Yeah. For my mother." I squint at his answer.

"That still won't excuse the fact you're a pervert."

"No, I swear. I would never. I know you don't believe me, but I swear. I swear on my mothers life I would never. Not in school, not anywhere. I respect a woman way too much to do something like that."

"A woman? Who? Your mother?" My brain turns to different answers.

"Yes." He stuttering again. "Definitely, my mother." He pushes away from me, and I feel cold.

I hum. Then I look back up at him, eyes still squinted.

"I'll let it pass for now." I see his face fill with relief, and I almost laugh.

I walk away, but before I get too far, I hear him mutter.

"You look pretty." I turn around, shocked and confused.

"What did you say?"

"I said you look shitty. Goodbye, Pardine!" He calls out as he walks away in a rush. I scoff, then turn back around to walk home.

××《☆》××

I pet George, lounging on my bed, thinking of going out to run some errands. I get up and head to the kitchen.

Stuck to the fridge, I read my mother's shopping list. I get rid of the magnet and stick the note into my coat pocket. I glance at George, then the door, then George again.

I sigh. I pick him up, head to my door, and lock it. We go down the stairs. I place him in my bicycle basket. I make sure he's tucked in well, then ride to the farmers market.

Once I'm there, I glance at the shopping list again. Some vegetables, fruit, flour, etc. I walk past each stall, buying what's needed. Just then, a boy, somewhere my age, walks towards me.

"Hi." He seems confident. "I'm Callum. What's your name?"

I look at him up and down, and then the hand he reaches out for a hand shake. He's tall, but not too tall. Maybe five feet and ten inches. He has long, wavy brown hair, neatly brushed behind his ears. He has deep doe eyes and a smile on his face. I hesitate.

"Y/N." I slowly lift my hand and shake his. His smile widens.

"So, I have a project that requires a model, and when I saw you, I thought you'd be the perfect candidate. Not to be blunt about it, but you're beautiful." I blush at the sudden compliment.

"All you need to do is let me take a couple of photos, and I'll pay you, about... 300 franc?" I gape at the offer.

"Are you sure? Just for pictures?" They nod.

"Yes. Good transaction, yeah? If I win the project, the pictures will be displayed in the front of a car magazine. Is that alright with you?" I think again, but what's there to think about when there's 300 franc on the table?

"Deal." I shake hands Callum's hand, and he smiles wider.

"Good. Now, I'll take you to my car, and you can do a couple of poses in front of it." He led me to his car, and the second I saw the bright mint blue of it, my jaw hits the floor.

"This pretty one," Callum pats the front of the car. "is a 1955 Ford Thunderbird. Mint blue exterior, white top, and a mix of both for the interior. It has the brake horsepower of 193, and she's my most prized possession. She goes up to 23,069 kilometres. Very lovely, right?" He leans on the car, almost hugging it.

I cover my mouth, hiding my smile. He walks over to me, gently grabbing my wrist and pulling it away from my face.

"Keep that smile on, pretty lady. We need it for the pictures." He tilts his head towards the car. "Go on."

I walk slowly. Once I'm near the passengers door, I pose, and I see the flash of the camera.

"Get inside. Take a feel around." I walk to the other side of the car, opening the door and closing it once I'm in. I feel the leather of the wheel against my palm, and I scoff in awe. The camera flashes again.

"I didn't get to pose!" I laugh, slightly embarassed.

"You didn't need to. You're a natural." He snaps another photo, and I laugh again.

After taking a few photos and reviewing them, Callum finally chose one. It was me smiling at the camera with my hands on the wheels, windows rolled down.

He told me I looked perfect, which was, based on what he said, the first thing that came into his mind when he saw me.

The rest of the day, he accompanied me shopping and even offered me a ride around town in his car. I obviously couldn't say no.

He pulled the hood down, letting the wind flow through my hair as we drove in the roads, making it to the fields, stopping by for some gas, and then getting on the road again.

××《☆》××

Callum parks the car in front of his flat, which was only a few blocks away from mine. We decided to walk to my place instead of draining out the car, not before him telling me that it was absolutely fine for him to drive me directly home. When I said I needed my legs moving, he stopped pushing it and agreed.

He puts the hood back on, locking the door with his keys. He walks to my side.

"Good luck with the project." My hands are in my coat pockets as Callum walks me home. He smiles, then looks at me.

"Meeting you was luck itself. That means if you're in my pictures, I'll bring luck with me." I roll my eyes.

"Cheesy." We come to a stop infront of my flat's door.

"Well, this is it." I purse my lips, looking up at him.

"Yup. I guess we're here." His eyes sort of lose its spark. I worry.

"You okay?" I raise my eyebrows, concerned.

"I wanna see you again." He blurts out. "Is tomorrow okay? The results will come out, and I sort of want you to be there."

"Sure. I'll be there." I rub his arm reassuringly. He slowly lifts his hand to cup mine on his arm. He lifts it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on it.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He smiles softly, lets go of my hand, and leaves. I stay in my place, unsure of what to do. When his frame disappears from my sight, I shiver. What was that?

I'm greeted by George as I get in my flat. My heart's beating out my chest, and I feel anxious. There's something in me. It doesn't feel so good. Some sort of regret. Why?

A boy. Not Callum. Someone else. Taller frame. Shorter hair. One eye. Fuck no. No way. I can't. I shouldn't. Why am I thinking about him?

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. 'I don't even call him by his first name.' Joseph Descamps. I feel indifferent calling him his first name. I'm not in terms with him like that. We aren't close enough for me to call him that.

Then suddenly, I want to. I want to call him Joseph. 'Why?' I wonder. Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. It feels nice on the tongue. Descamps is suddenly too long of a name. Joseph is fine. The name, I mean. Not him.

Then suddenly, again, it is. He is. 'No, he's not', but I want him to be. How do I get him to be? 'I can't do this. I really shouldn't.' But, oh, how much I want to.

'No.' I quiet my thoughts. 'No. Never. I won't do it.'

But I want to.

Fuck.

××《☆》××

The next morning, most of the boys are called to the principles office. I sigh in boredom, looking out the window.

"It certainly feels emptier today." Simone says, breaking the silence. I want to laugh, but I can't. I wanted to see the way Joseph's green cardigan looked on his wide frame longer.

I shake my head. I totally didn't get enough sleep last night with that thought popping in my head.

Though, that cardigan really suited him. Green really suits him. It makes him sort of glow. It's not like he doesn't already. Come to think of it, his hair glows, too. It was a bit messy. He probably rushed to school today. I wonder how soft it'll be against my fingers when I brush it off to look neater.

I remember how warm he was that day in the alley. He was so much taller, so he had to basically break his back to reach me. I double take that thought.

He had to break his back just to reach me.

I know he didn't actually break his back, but I just knew that sort of hurt. But it was nice, so I guess it was worth it for him. At least, I hope it was.

Okay, wait. Why am I thinking like this? I guess we're on good terms now. I mean, sure, we bicker, but not as much anymore? I don't know. Whatever. I guess we're fine. I want us to be. I'm tired of being mad at him for no reason.

Yeah. We're fine. That's why I'm thinking like this, right? You know, as a friendly, 'I want to take care of you' kind of way. Which is platonic. Totally. Yeah, that's fine.

Maybe I should say hi from time to time? Or no. Maybe just a nod for a greeting? Too bland. A smile will do. He might be creeped out, though.

I groan internally. Why am I overthinking this? Whatever, I'll just smile and wave. That's good. Simple and effective. Don't overthink it. There's nothing to overthink about.

Ms. Couret walks in, and the class collectively stands up. She's wearing a green dress. It looks nice. It reminds me of Joseph.

Woah. Why am I thinking about him? I think I'm just worried. Yeah. I'm worried about him because we're friends. Wait, are we friends? I'll ask later.

We're told to sit down, and we do. Ms. Couret pulls out a copy of the news. This must be about The Beatles, I remember from the last discussion, before it got interrupted. I light up in my seat.

"We won't wait for your classmates. They're getting tortured at the dean's dungeon." The class laughs.

"Today, we'll start with an article on President Kennedy's murder." So it isn't about The Beatles. I furrow my eyebrows.

I raise my hand.

"Yes?" Ms. Couret lifts her head.

"What about the song?" I shrug my shoulders, asking a bit sadly.

"No. There won't be a song. I don't have the record." I purse my lips in silent disappointment. She passes us some papers, and I sit the rest of the day quietly.

××《☆》××

I walk outside of the gate, the crowds of students slowly dissipating. My hair flows in the wind, styled the same way it was yesterday, except done in a half up half down style. My yellow dress lifts up and down as my legs do.

I'm headed to Callum's school, excited for the results. Almost halfway there, I stop. Joseph is in front of a magazine booth, buying. My heart drops, assuming it was another one of those flashy magazines. But then he leans out the booth, holding a magazine with my face on the cover.

My face is on the cover, and Joseph is buying it.

Two very important things.

One, I got on the cover, so Callum won. Two, Joseph is buying a magazine with my face on the cover. My question is, does he know it's me on the cover? Or is he buying it because he generally likes cars.

I take slow steps forward. The closer I am, the more I hear. And there's a voice inside my head repeating Joseph's words.

"That's my girl." He points to my picture in the magazine, showing the booth owner. "She's gorgeous. I mean, look at her." He makes the magazine face him again. There's a wide smile on his face.

He's smiling. I think I'm starting to like it on him.

The second he turns his head and sees me, the smile I just started to admire drops. He looks red under the afternoon sun.

"Pardine." He clears his throat, hiding the magazine. "What are you doing around here?"

"Headed to St. Patricks. You know the all boys school?" I smile softly. His nervousness seems to fade, for only a little.

"What would you be doing there?" He sounds off.

"Meeting a friend." I lift my shoulders, showing off a smile.

He looks like he melts, then stiffens back up. "A friend? Who? What's his name? What's he look like?"

"You ask a lot of questions. Answer mine first, then I'll answer yours." He nods. "What are you doing here?"

He stutters. "I was just looking around. Thought I'd buy a magazine but then saw you." He's acting uninterested. Or atleast trying to.

"Saw me walking towards you, or saw me in that magazine you have in your hands?" His eyes blow open. I hide my laugh.

"What? What do you- oh." He points to the magazine booth that he's still standing next to.

"That's you? Wow, I didn't know you modelled. It's not like I care or anything." He puts his head down, shrugging his shoulders.

"Why'd you buy it, Joseph?" I smirk, tilting my head, trying to meet his eyes. He shys away.

"I was... gonna burn it. Yeah. I was- wait. What did you call me?" He whips his head up. I try to recall, then flush when I do.

"Nothing."

"You totally called me Joseph." Yes, I did.

"No, I didn't." I shake my head.

"You never call me that." No, but like last night, I want to.

"I didn't call you Joseph."

"You just did."

"You're so childish, Joseph."

"You did it again!"

I groan, walking away from him, as red as when he saw me. Why was he red when he saw me? Whatever, I need to get to Callum.

I hear his steps behind me, and I roll my eyes.

"Y/N, come on." I turn around.

"You called me Y/N."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did." He definitely did.

"I didn't." Mhm, sure.

"You did. You never call me that." I mock him. He rolls his eye.

"Whatever."

"Whatever." I walk away from him. He doesn't seem to follow after me anymore, but then after a while, I hear his steps again.

"What's your friends name again? Are you sure I wasn't the friend you were gonna meet?" Oh right, I was gonna ask him about that.

"Are we friends?" I stop and turn to him.

He stops, too. No talking, no walking.

"Do you want us to be?" He asks. I pause.

"Yes."

"Then, yeah." There's that smile I missed.

"Good." I continue to walk.

"You didn't answer my first question."

"His name is Callum. He was the one who photographed me." I feel him grab my arm, and we stop again.

"He photographed you? When did you even meet? How are you sure he isn't some old creep?"

"Yes, he did. Yesterday, when I was in the market. He's our age, I made sure to ask."

"Okay, how exactly did he come up to you in the market?" He squints, tilting his head.

"Just went up to me, said hi, called me beautiful, offered money for the photos, took the photos, we drove around in his car, and then he walked me home." I shrug simply. He's still hesitant.

"You drove around in a stranger's car?"

"Correction, friends car."

"Yeah, a friend you just met."

"Whatever, I'm here now safe and sound anyways."

"But what if he was some creep? You need to be more careful, Y/N."

"I said it's whatever, Joseph." His eyebrows are furrowed, then after a while, he nods.

I continue to walk, and he follows. I don't stop him.

Once we're in front of St. Patricks' gate, I see the familiar Ford Thunderbird and quickly make my way, Joseph hot on my feet.

I see the familiar man leaning against the car with his hands in his pockets, then I see his toothy grin. I run up to him and give him a hug that he returns.

"Callum! Congratulations. I knew you had it in the bag." I say as I lean away from him. He keeps his arms wrapped around me. I feel a burning stare on us.

"Told you, you brought me luck." He takes his glasses off with his hand, then places the arm he used back on my waist. I hear footsteps and Callum's hold loosens.

There's an arm around my shoulder. Then, an all familiar voice.

"You alright, man? Congrats on the magazine. Y/N's told me about you." I look up at Joseph. His jaw's clenched.

"Of course she did. She told you about the ride on this pretty thing?" He pats the car, and I flush.

"Yeah, she did. I'm Joseph." He puts a hand out for Callum to shake. They clasp hands, and their grips are tight.

"Callum, but I guess you already knew that. If you don't mind me asking, who are you to Y/N?"

"Her b-"

"Friend. He's a friend." I cut him off. He looks at me with hurt in his eyes, then masks it with fake joy.

"Yup. I'm her friend." He nods to Callum.

"Oh. It's a bit weird that she hasn't mentioned you. You know, since you're friends and all." Joseph's arm tightens around me.

"Yeah, it's not like her to talk about her friends to someone she just met." There's a sarcastic smirk on his face.

Callum hums. "Well, s'nice to meet you, Joseph. Have a good one, yeah? And you, pretty lady..." Callum's gaze shifts to me, stare softening.

"Have a good night." He lifts my hand to his lips, placing a soft and lingering kiss on it. I take a deep breath in, maintaining composure, overwhelmed by the attention both boys were giving me.

Callum turns around and drives off on his car. Once his car was out of sight, I look back at Joseph, his stare still on the road where Callum rode off to.

"What was that?" I squint, tilting my head up. He instantly looks down at me with tending eyes.

"Nothing. I'll walk you home." His hand comes town to my arm, rubbing it gently. We turn to the way to my place.

The sun has set, and the street lights are on. It's a quiet night, the only things being heard are footsteps and draining water.

Only a block away from my flat, Joseph's arms are still around me. It feels comforting. It's nice to have a new friend. Though, I've known him longer.

"When you get home, I want you to say hi to George for me." I laugh at that. "I'm not kidding."

"Yeah, I'll say hi to George for you." I smile at the ground, then look up at him. He's already looking at me. We slow down a bit, just staring.

Then he leans in, and I mirror him. We lean in closer, closer, and closer. A moped engine turns on. We stop, and pull away.

"Here we are." He stops, and I didn't even notice we were already at my place.

"Oh. Right." He steps away from me, the arm around my shoulders gone. I feel alone again.

"Well, good night, Y/N." He stand there with his hands in his pockets.

"Good night, Joseph." I purse my lips. He nods. I walk up quarter way to the steps, then I stop.

I go back down, see Joseph, I tip toe, then press a kiss on his cheek. I quickly walk up the stairs again, almost tripping.

I make it to the inside of my flat, not bothering to turn the light on, then rush to the window. I peek out of it, and he's still there. He looks bewildered. Then, a smile slowly sits on his face. He stays there for a while, and then he walks away.

I slowly get up from my place, turning on the light, and I just stand there. Then, I squeal.

Holy fucking shit. Oh my gosh. No way, no way, no way, no way. I just kissed his cheek. Holy shit.

That's normal. Totally. Just a friendly kiss. But it felt nice.

I check the time. It's 12 in the morning. New year's kiss. I just had Joseph as my New Year's kiss. Kind of.

I see George, and smile wider.

"Joseph said hi."

I definitely don't hate not hating him anymore.

××《☆》××

End of- Chapter four: Flashy Magazines

Next- Chapter five: You Know Where To Find Me, and I Know Where To Look

××《☆》××

It's finally done 😭😭 watch me take a month for chapter five /j. Anw, this is a handful chapter. So many emotions. This is turning out to be an enemies to frienimies to lovers. What do u guys think abt Callum? Honestly, hes lowkey me cus i love cars. I wish i had his car. More of him soon too. I wanted tk add fluff so that u guys dont get the idea that im not making joseph and reader end game. I promise i am but u guys have to wait. Happy reading hope u guys liked this!!!

[thatfuckinjester]

i've been talking a lot about swiss not talking to anyone because he feels like he's a burden, so i'm upping my game to win the angst ceo title.

so swiss not talking to anyone, and the others respecting his privacy and boundaries even though they're dying to comfort him.

and when swiss gets like that usually he seeks comfort from dew, he loves how dew won't make him talk about it, how he'll just let him sit with him, maybe dew himself will hum, that always makes swiss relax.

dew is a safe person, maybe even swiss' own safe person.

but the thing is, dew gets mad very quickly. if something upset him, there's a big chance that he'll stay upset for the whole day.

so when swiss knocked on dew's door and was answered with an angey "what" he flew. he ran back to his room so fast, slamming the door closed, not even locking it.

hecs annoying everyone, just a burden, he will never fit with them, just like it was in the pit. he's just a multi, a freak. he's everything and that makes him into nothing.

and when dew opened his door and was hit with the scent of swiss, his heart sank.

he almost slipped, knocking into mountain, as he ran to swiss' room. and when dew opened the unlocked door, a "i'm so sorry" tickling the tip of his tongue, the words burnt to a crisp.

a thunder rumbled when he saw swiss' window open and swiss nowhere to be found.

[herzloch]

countryside is nympho pride

several people have asked me so I'm writing a small text here

have you ever felt that the countryside is where you belong?

that the trees and the woods make your heart beat harder, that the sun kissed grass and the mellow meadows make your blood rush faster?

but have you also experienced that these are the places where you underwent hate, where you were excluded, where you were denied your right to be?

do you know that distinct feeling, that special kind of place, you crave so much but fear the same way? that peculiar place you need, although it makes your life much tougher?

i am writing this text in a hurry because the night is calling, and the river needs my tongue to sleep, but think about it. When the countryside is part of our identity, why should we suffer for who we are?

If we are country, why do we have to adapt to survive? If we are country, we can be anything. We don't need to live a life of restrictions. that is not what nature has intended for us, and we are nothing but nature's touch. just the way we are and not any other way

it doesn't matter if you are a nympho, if you are a banshee or if you a wild willow woman. Even a mountain mushroom man. we are not alone and we all are connected by roots. all the lonely souls, all the queer farmers out there, all the dew pearl princesses

lets embrace what makes us special. we are blessed by the woods. not to hide but to shine. Respect and be, because we are born free

if the forest, the fields and the river and creeks are your identity, that's something nobody can deny. Countryside is more than meets the eye and we all have moonchild hearts and we are tough like tree trunks thousand times

share and share your message

[codreinhart]

A few months ago, I tried clean eating. I cut out sugar, soda, carbs, you name it. At first I was miserable because I really, really missed my Mountain Dew and my Taco Bell at midnight but now I think I’m getting the hang of it. There’s something to be said about treating your body with the respect it deserves...and it makes me feel grateful that I’ve got one that lets me do such incredible things. Do I occasionally have a slice of Domino’s cheesy pizza? Hell yeah. Life is too short but for the most part, I try to eat food that will make me feel good on the inside and outside. Lately though, I’ve been stuck with the same old recipes. Does anyone have any suggestions? I’ll even cook you it as thanks! @cityofdreamsstarters​

[ghostisun]

Gospels

cw: smut (m x m) - minors dni; poly!ghouls (but there is only one main pairing explored); size kink; D/s (includes hints of subspace); male anatomy; mentions of squirting (stares at u guys bug-eyed); unrealistic and gratuitous sex // 994 words (read at ao3)

an: uhh first official smut work. im so nervous putting this out :< but uhh yea! hope u guys like it ^v^

There are many things Dew told them not to talk about—his apparent size kink so happened to be one of them.

Don't mind the fact that they're all into it, Dewdrop still refuses to admit that he’s got it. He refuses to admit that he mewls at being manhandled, his body locking in pleasure when he is picked up and fucked against a wall. He denies the way he slips underneath the fog when they have him on his back, his knees pressed to his shoulders, exposing all that he is to his mates who bear down all of their weight onto him.

He cums just like that—eyes rolling to the back of his skull, jaw hanging open for a soundless moan.

It is the sexiest thing ever, so of course they decided to see what else of his size kink could they exploit.

Currently, and no shock there, it were Mountain and Aether who could make him squirt, his cock leaking and his walls spasming around theirs as he whimpers and whines because they fucked him stupid. Because they hit somewhere just a little deeper, snug against the muscles of his flesh, and turned his brain into a little mush.

It makes him choke, his words gurgled.

He is so, so beautiful like this—his spun gold hair is sticking to his sweaty, flushed skin, and his lips are so kiss-swollen and spit-slicked.

“Shh,” Aether croons.

He has Dewdrop for today, and the others are left to hear and scent the peaking pleasure of their little firefly.

He pulled Dewdrop to his lap, the smaller ghoul’s back pressed flush against Aether’s chest. Dew’s naked, shivering, stuffed, and Aether is still fully clothed—a power play, one that had Dew hissing at him only to end up like this.

His legs are thrown over Aether’s, the tips of his toes don’t even touch the floor—this was actually what silenced Dew’s angry burst. He balked at the simple way that Aether reminded him of their size difference, of how greatly he outmatched Dewdrop, and he went putty. Shivering. Brain turned off as he pawed at the side of Aether’s leg because he still refuses to beg.

That’s fine, Aether didn’t need him to. After all, there were many more ways to render Dewdrop into a sobbing mess, and all it took was to strip him off his clothes and fuck his cock into Dew’s already leaking hole.

“So warm ‘round me, petal,” Aether murmurs, before leaning back into the cushions, body sagging into it in comfort. It jostles the two of them, driving Aether further into Dew.

The new breach has Dew warbling out a whimper, his breath rasping out in wheezes as pleasure razes him. He clamps down on Aeth’s dick, his body lifting as he squirms, toes curled, and his head falling into the soft pudge of Aether’s chest.

He is crying, outright sobbing at the overwhelming euphoria filling him up. Sharp nails dig into the flesh of his thighs, tearing the skin open—more bruises; more proof of how good they’d made him feel.

Aether goes cross-eyed himself, his breath turning into a gritted hiss at the tight clench of Dew’s walls. 

Satanas. 

Dewdrop is a marvel. He is a freakish accident because Aether knew, even when the denial was strong from Imperator, that the ritual forced onto Dew was intended to burn him into nothing. There were precedents of this ritual of course, but all the ghouls forced into it had died. They were not banished to the pits, instead, they perished. Not even their remnants remained. 

(Omega had warned him that the Church held no affection nor respect for their kind. It took Dewdrop’s elemental change for it to truly sink in.)

But their starfire survived. Amidst all odds, Dewdrop had gritted through the burning of his flesh and the emptying of his element, and forged himself into something extraordinary. He is a miracle.

And Aether could not fathom how blessed he is to have Dewdrop as his mate. That this little star is his.

“Fuck, Dew,” he moans, guttural, his hands tightening around the fire ghoul’s waist. He is so overwhelmed with his emotions, pleasure and affection and lovelovelove are all blending together. He staggers at the intensity of it all, the storm raging on in his chest.

His tiny mate is squirming, calling his name and yowling with pleasure, and Aether keens. He is so in love. So addicted.

Amidst the pleasure, he maps his hands—big and callused—along Dewdrop’s body. He traces the supple flesh, quintessence seeping into his touch as Aether loses his hold on his element, before his hands fall on top of Dew’s belly.

Aether stills, tamping down on the jitters that are racking his own body. He clears his mind, forces himself to focus because here, right here, is where he and Dewdrop are the closest.

“D’you feel me here, love?” Aether asks, his voice rumbling from his chest and reverberating into Dew’s back. He hooks his chin on the fire ghoul’s shoulder, his eyes flicking down to gaze at the flushed body of his mate. Pre- beads on the slit of Dew’s flushed cock, pearly and pretty, and Aether vows to get down to his knees and lap it all up later. Much later. Because for now—

“A-Aeth…” Dew mewls, too overtaken with his ecstasy to notice.

To feel what it is that has Aether’s heart hammering. So Aeth takes pity on him.

He puts pressure on his hold, his hand slowly digging into Dew’s stomach. Dew’s breath hitches, his eyes peeling open. Clarity seems to seep back into him, holding him suspended just for a moment as Aether pushes and pushes and—

“I’m all the way here, Dew.”

Dewdrop cums, just like that, with Aether’s name spilling from his mouth. 

Aether pets him throughout, whispering promises of filth and care into Dew’s ear because they’re just not done yet. 

The rest have yet to join them, after all.

[coffeeghoulie]

got a feeling inside that i can't domesticate

surprise! secret sixth chapter/epilogue of Eternal Heatstroke! (though you don't have to have read that to read this lol)

3.2k of Swiss and Aeon getting their well-earned rest after the end of the Re-Imperatour, with bonus fire ghoul courting rituals, mild miscommunication, and Aether and Dew giving each other Looks about the new lovebugs.

Title from Bishops Knife Trick by Fall Out Boy

this one goes out to @ghuleh-recs, wishing her a very happy birthday!

Aeon's not quite sure what day it is.

They had come home after months and months on the road, the Re-Imperatour done some time ago. Dew had barreled off of the bus, nearly tackling a waiting Aether to the ground, Sunny had been successfully tackled by the three other ghoulettes, and Mountain and Rain had greeted their packmates, giving them tight hugs before promptly retreating to the forest and the lake respectively.

Swiss and Aeon had stepped off the bus together, fingers still laced together, heading straight for the ghoul dorms through the marble hallways of the Abbey. The soles of their boots echoed through the empty halls, the clergy and siblings gone to celebrate Papa's return and the end of a successful tour.

"I'm a ghoul of my word, bug," Swiss leaned down to whisper in their good ear. "Straight to bed with us. I'm going to make you the best nest you've ever slept in, I swear to Belial."

Aeon laughed, fishing in their jeans pocket for the key Aether gave them on their very first day Up Top six and a half months ago. "That's not a high bar," they cackled, checking him with their shoulder.

"Still," he grinned. "You wanna grab your bedding from your room or do you just want to use mine?"

They pulled out their key, readjusting the strap of their duffle bag on their shoulder with a shrug. "I'll grab mine too." Swiss lit up, grin sun-bright

The two stopped in front of the plain door that leads to the room Aether had showed them to that first night. Aeon took a moment to fumble with the lock, refusing to let go of Swiss's hand. The door swung open, hinges creaky with months of disuse. The room was just as plain as it was before they left, and Aeon itched to rearrange the furniture, make it a little more theirs now that they were confident that this wasn't a temporary thing.

Reluctantly, Aeon let go of Swiss's hand, but instead of going to their bed, they felt Swiss's gaze on their back as they ducked under their desk, scooping up all of their sheets and blankets and pillows. "Baby," the multighoul said, and Aeon straightened, barely able to see over the pile of bedding in their arms. His tone was devastating, soft and almost sad.

"Yeah?"

"Were you sleeping under your desk?"

Aeon shifted the pile of fabric and took a step back as they took in Swiss's expression. His eyes went soft, but a deep frown lined his face. They cocked their head. "Yeah?"

"Oh, baby," he said again with that same sad tone. "Sweetheart."

"What?" Aeon said, kicking their door shut as they came back to him.

Swiss shook his head, taking a deep breath. "You need help locking up? Or help carrying that?"

"I got it, thanks," they said, shuffling their bedding into one arm as they fit the key in the lock again. They couldn't take Swiss's hand again, but they stood as close as they could to make up for it as they headed down the hall to his room.

Swiss had a much easier time getting his door unlocked, holding it open for Aeon as he ushered them inside. "Just dump those on my bed, alright, baby?"

Aeon nodded, setting the sheets down on his neatly made bed. Without the pile of fabric blocking their view, Aeon took a look at Swiss's room as the multghoul flicked on a string of soft lights, dropping his duffle bag on his desk chair.

It's much more lived in that Aeon's, which made sense, Aeon supposed. He'd been Up Top for far longer than they had. There were shelves of books and records that lined his walls, a guitar not unlike the one he played on tour mounted above his desk. There was a hanging plant near the window, curtains open and letting in the light, illuminating the dust particles floating in the air.

Swiss sighed as he kicked off his boots. "Finally. Home at fucking last."

Aeon carefully followed suit, taking off their own boots and tucking their duffle bag in the corner.

The multighoul opened his dresser, rummaging through it until he hummed victoriously, pulling out two pairs of sweatpants and a pair of shirts. "I'm gonna change and get you a nest made," he said. "If you want to shower, feel free."

Aeon nodded, eyes suddenly incredibly heavy. They wandered over to the wingback chair by the window, curling up against the cushion as Swiss handed them one of the shirts and pairs of pants. They thought about showering, blinking slowly as they felt the soft, worn fabric in their hands. Aeon shook their head, standing and changing into the offered clothes. They smelled like him.

Swiss's lips quirked up in a smile as he quickly changed, turning to arrange his and Aeon's bedding into, as promised, the best nest. He straightened, a satisfied smile on his face. "You wanna shut the curtains for me, baby?" he asked.

They nodded, pulling the black out curtains shut, casting the room in darkness with the exception of the string lights above Swiss's double bed. He settled into the nest, patting the space next to him. "As promised, buggy," he said, teeth glinting as he grinned in the low light.

Aeon returned his grin, crawling into Swiss's nest, plastering themself to his side between him and the wall. The nest was softer than anything Aeon had ever felt before, sinking into a carefully arranged pile of sheets and blankets and pillows. Swiss curled his hands around their biceps, pulling them flush against him.

They let out a little "oof" when their chests collided, both of them staring in silence for a moment before they burst into laughter.

"So," Swiss crooned, nosing at their cheek as they laughed. "Is this the best nest you've ever had or what?"

Aeon's nose crinkled up, cheeks dimpling with their laughter. "Oh yeah," they laughed. "'S really soft." They noticed their words beginning to slur, eyes growing heavy.

"And there's the crash," Swiss said, yawning. He carded his fingers through their hair, Aeon keening at the touch. "Sleep as long as you need."

It's warm, and soft, and now that they'd finally stopped moving, Aeon realized that Swiss was right, drifting off to sleep.

They don't leave the nest for hours. Or it could be days. With the curtains drawn, Aeon's not sure. Sometimes they wake, still held fast against Swiss's form. Their hands settle on the back of his neck, playing with the ends of his locs subconsciously. Sometimes Swiss wakes, and even in their sleep, Aeon can feel his blunt, glamoured fingertips carding through their hair, tracing patterns against their spine.

And sometimes they wake together, only getting up to use the bathroom, to raid the ghoul kitchen for snacks and water, dried fruit and nuts and the single serving bags of Dew's favorite spicy chips, before retreating back to the nest. They'll pay for that particular transgression later, but Aether and Dew's door hasn't opened once since the band returned to the Abbey, so they're not particularly worried.

For now, Aeon lets Swiss keep his word, keeping them in his bed, safe in his nest, and Aeon drinks it up. The smell of him is much stronger here, and Aeon spends long moments with their face buried in his chest, his shirt, his bedding.

"Can you even breathe like that, bug?" Swiss laughs, hand caressing the back of their neck. Aeon doesn't raise their head to answer, mumbling into his chest. Swiss hums, ducking down to press a kiss between their horns, and Aeon chuffs happily, if not half-asleep.

"There we go, sweetheart," he whispers, shifting until he's on his back, Aeon curled up on his broad chest. They chuff again, already slipping back into sleep, their body making up for all of the sleepless nights they spent on the road.

The creak of the door handle startles them awake next. Aeon pushes themself upright, lips peeled back in a terrified snarl as the door pushes open slowly. The sudden movement and noise wakes Swiss, as light from the hallway pools into his room, lighting the dim space.

It barely takes half of a second for Swiss to register the open door, the budding tinge of terror on Aeon's scent, before he's shoving them off of him, sitting up between them and the door. He reaches behind him, fingers curling in the fabric of Aeon's borrowed shirt. A deep growl bubbles up in his chest, and Aeon's never heard him make a sound quite like that.

But Aeon sees the glowing pairs of purple and copper eyes silhouetted by the hall light, and Dew clears his throat as he and Aether look in. "Quit fucking growling, asshole, s'just us," he says, scoffing, even though Aeon can hear the worry seeping through his tone.

Swiss has the wherewithal to at least look sheepish, padding his tail against the mattress. "Sorry," he says, but the tone of his voice says he isn't.

"We just wanted to say hello," Aether says, smiling easily like one of his packmates hadn't just been growling at them. "Haven't seen hide nor hair of either of you in the last three days. Got a glimpse when you came off of the bus, but to be fair, we ran off pretty quick." He chuckles, looking at Dew with a softness in his eyes, an arm around his waist.

Aeon whistles under their breath. They'd been in Swiss's nest for three days.

"We've been out," Swiss says, and Aeon feels how tense he is still, his back against their chest. It's just their packmates, one of whom they've only had a few glimpses of in the last several months. They don't know why he's so worked up. "We went to the kitchen."

"Yeah, to steal my chips," Dew scoffs, but he's laughing as he toes at an abandoned foil package that didn't quite make it to the trash can, but neither of them had been assed to get up and actually throw away.

"Invite yourselves in, why don't you?" Swiss laughs, but he's still tense. Aeon sits up straighter behind him, hooking their chin over his shoulder.

"Hi, Aeth," Aeon says, voice heavy with sleep and, apparently, three whole days' worth of disuse. "Missed you."

Aether grins, opening the curtains, much to Swiss and Aeon's dismay. They both hiss, squinting in the bright afternoon light. "Missed you too, pup. You too, Swiss."

Dew stares as the room brightens, and Aeon watches his mouth fall open, eyes brightening with a disbelief and a delight. "Swiss," the fire ghoul says slowly. "Satanas, you didn't-" He gestures loosely at the nest, where Aeon's light grey sheets mix with the dark burgundy of Swiss's own bedding.

Swiss tenses further, tail wrapping around his own thigh, spade thudding nervously against the meat of it. "Spitfire."

"Aeth, look at his bed," Dew says, and Swiss covers his face with his hands, groaning. "Tell me that's not what I think it is."

Aether turns from opening the window, bringing in a waft of fresh autumn air, and Aeon watches his clever eyes dart back and forth between the nest, Swiss, Dew, over to Aeon, and back again. A grin slowly grows on the older quint's face, baring his gold fang.

"Belial, Swiss," Dew throws his head back, crowing with laughter. "You made them a hearth, didn't know it was that serious!"

"Shut up," Swiss says, muffled into his hands.

Dew ignores him, still laughing. "Waited all of a week to get them into your bed, huh?" He crows. Aether's still grinning at Aeon. "We walked in on a fucking hearth. No wonder you were growling like you were feral, you spent the last three days fucking in a hearth-"

Swiss's head snaps up, growling again. He almost clips the back of his skull against Aeon's horn. "Shut the fuck up, Dewdrop," he snaps, voice rumbling dangerously around the edges of the ghoulish words.

All three of the other ghouls freeze, Aeon squeaking softly under their breath. Swiss hears it, their mouth practically against his ear, and sighs, shoulders slumping as he presses his cheek against their temple. "I'm sorry. Nothing like that happened. We've just been sleeping. Please just drop it."

Dew holds his hands up, palms facing the nest. "Didn't mean to insinuate," he says, still leaning against the doorframe, grinning. "Didn't know you were the hearth type, Swiss."

Swiss grunts, staring at Dew with grit teeth.

"Well, darling," Aether butts in, a similar smug look on his face. "You didn't seem the type either."

"Oh, shut up," Dew rolls his eyes. "It worked on you."

Aeon's eyes dart from ghoul to ghoul, brow furrowed. "Um," they breathe, not exactly liking the way all three of the older ghouls turn to face them. "I don't wanna interrupt, but what do you mean? What's a hearth?"

"Oh, no," Aether breathes. Swiss buries his face in his hands.

"Oh, Lord Below, of course you didn't tell them," Dew laughs. "I'm gonna let Swiss explain this one to you, voidling, seeing as you're in one." The fire ghoul jabs a thumb towards his mate. "This guy didn't know what a hearth was the first time I made him one either."

"Of course I didn't know," Aether argues. "I wasn't raised with fire pack customs."

"Exactly," Dew stresses, leveling a look at Aether. "Neither were they."

Swiss hasn't moved, breathing so shallow that Aeon can't feel it from where they're pressed up against his back. They chirrup, trying to be comforting, but still questioning. Swiss groans, tilts his head back until their cheeks are pressed together. "I'll tell you, bug, but will the two of you leave us alone?"

Dew nods, suddenly incredibly solemn, hand over his chest. "Of course. Aeth?"

Aether nods, stepping closer to the bed to run a hand over Swiss's locs, finger trailing along the ridge of his horn. "I'm glad you're home, spark."

Swiss hums, leaning into Aether's touch for just a moment, flashing him with the brightness of his smile for a second. "Glad to be home too, big guy."

He grins, turning to his fellow quintessence ghoul, running blunt fingers through their hair. "Congratulations on finishing your first tour, pup."

Aeon smiles, not as bright as they would have, the uneasy tension sour on the air, but they press into the touch like a pleased cat. "Thanks, Aeth."

The pair of them step out, Dew flashing Swiss a mischievous grin before shutting the door behind them.

Swiss sighs again, running a hand through his locs, eyes squeezed shut. He shifts until he's sitting straight and cross legged, and Aeon props themself up to sit next to him, their thighs pressed together. "Did Caldera, did she ever make nests? Specifically, did she ever make one for Oasis?"

Aeon cocks their head, curiosity washing over and dampening the sting of their names on his lips. "No," they tell him. "We were moving constantly, didn't have somewhere secure for a nest like that. He'd give her stones all the time, though. He said it was a water ghoul thing."

Swiss's ears pin back to his skull and he tenses again, fingers flexing, hands in his lap. "Shit."

Aeon darts out, grabs one of his hands, seeking contact. He melts, eagerly taking theirs. His thumb traces over the back of their hand, and his eyes track the movement. "Can you tell me what Dew meant?" Aeon breathes. "About it being a fire thing?"

He nods and squeezes their hand.

"We- No," Swiss winces. He starts again. "Fire ghouls come from the coldest circles of the Pits. They're the only ghouls that can survive there, because the fire in them keeps them alive." He rests his other hand over his heart. "But sometimes, in the longest, darkest nights, one fire wouldn't be enough. You could go to sleep fine, and your flame would freeze and go out by morning. So, most fire ghouls tended to sleep together with partners or big family piles."

Aeon listens intently, resting their head on his shoulder. "You said that was something you missed from your birth pack, right?"

Swiss snorts, turning to nose at the crown of their head. He takes a deep breath, letting his eyes shut as their scent hits him. "I did say that. My family was from the City, so we weren't exactly worrying about freezing to death, it was more a comfort thing. But this isn't quite like that."

They wait for Swiss to continue. "What's it like, then?" they ask, yawning.

"A hearth is-" He nuzzles into their hair again, hot breath blowing the strands as he hums. "If you were single, and looking for a partner, you'd offer to build your potential partner a hearth, a nest of your own bedding, to prove you could provide and protect each other's flames. And if they offered their own bedding in return, you had been accepted, and they were interested too. I know I didn't ask, and I asked you for your bedding instead of you offering, but that's what Dew saw. He made a hearth for Aether before he asked him to be his mate."

Aeon cocks their head, sleepily blinking up at him. "It's a mates thing?"

"Yeah," Swiss shuts his eyes and heaves a breath. "It's like a courting nest. I'm sorry, bug. Haven't thought of myself as fire for so long, I didn't realize what I was doing, didn't ask if it was okay. Didn't put a name to what I was doing."

They straighten, shift to look at him dead on. Their hands come up to his face, smoothing over the three day's worth of unshaved stubble. It scratches their palms just right, and Aeon watches the little furrow in his brow smooth out.

"You don't have to apologize," they say, entranced by the shift in the gold of his eyes. "Did you mean it?"

He hums curiously, the little furrow back on his brow. "Did I mean it?"

"Nobody's ever been interested in me like that," they admit in a little voice. Swiss's hands curl around their own, just touching. "Are you? Do you mean it?"

Swiss thinks, and Aeon feels a pit growing in their stomach the longer he doesn't answer.

"Aeon," he says, smoothing his thumbs over the back of their hands. They look up, catching his eye. "Of course I mean it. I love you, bug."

"Then I accept," Aeon says, as easy as breathing. "I want that. I love you too."

He grins, bright and golden, just as warm as the nest they've spent the last half a week in, and Aeon grabs his hands tighter, nose crinkling up in laughter.

"I'm glad we got you, Aeon," Swiss says, smile softening. He kisses their cheek, warm and flushed deep violet.

"I'm glad it was me too," they whisper, leaning forward to shove their face in Swiss's throat.

He embraces them, rubbing up and down their spine, and Swiss's heart jumps when he realizes he can't feel the knobs of their spine. "I hate to say it, lovebug, but we should probably go have something real to eat, see the others."

Aeon whines, but their stomach chooses that moment to growl, and both ghouls burst into laughter at the timing. They stand, begrudgingly leaving the warmth of their hearth to rejoin the rest of their pack.

[lilypadlys]

The ghouls and what circus acts they would perform

Aerial Silks, Tightrope, Trapeze, Lyra: Cirrus, Cumulus, Aurora, and Zephyr. You know our air ghoulies thrive in the air. Daredevils the lot of them. Cirrus especially loves the sudden drops with silks that have the audience gasping. Cumulus practically dances on her tightrope. Aurora and Zephyr are pros with trapeze and lyra and will honestly just chill on their respective perches between acts. They all have costumes in various shades of blue.

Slack Rope/Trampoline: I feel like Swiss would have a blast quite literally bouncing around the stage. Loves doing backflips and spins in the air. Also a daredevil. Flashy purple and orange costume to show his elements (quintessence and fire)

Contortionists: Water ghouls are lithe and flexible so Rain and Mist would make great contortionists. Bending into pretzels till you can't tell where Rain ends and Mist begins. Identical iridescent fish scale patterned unitards.

Fire Jugglers: Our resident pyromaniacs Dewdrop, Sunshine, and Ifrit have a little too much fun seeing how many batons they can juggle without setting themselves, each other, or the stage on fire. Rain and Mist on standby with fire extinguishers. They're not in any real danger being fire ghouls/fire hybrids and all, but the audience doesn't have to know that. Black pants. The guys are shirtless and a cage bra for Sunny.

Strongman: This one's gotta go to our strong boi Mountain. His act includes deadlifting a beam that both Dew and Aurora are balanced on. Brown pants and sleeveless forest green vest (got to show off those muscles).

See-Saw: The quintessence bois. Aether, Phantom, Omega, and Swiss (since he's part quintessence). This act requires a lot of coordination because they have to time their jumps and swap out regularly so I feel like the shared element of quintessence would help them psychically communicate with each other and maintain a precise rhythm. Purple and black costumes.

Ringleader: Copia of course, complete with a fancy top hat. Make no mistake though. Just because he’s the ring leader doesn’t mean he has any control over his ghouls. It’s still like herding cats.

Note: I wrote this a while back before I better understood what ghouls were in what eras so don't mind me shoving three different eras together :)

[themidnightghoul]

Take a Bite

Swiss has only one thing on his mind: sinking his teeth into a certain Earth Ghoul.

Rating: Explicit (MDNI 18+ seriously I mean it) Word Count: 1757

This was written for @hypnoneghoul because his love for SwissAlps made me want to write about them 🖤

Read on AO3 or below!

It was like the worst kind of torture, being so close to him but unable to do anything. Swiss had to watch him all night from his stage and somehow act like he wasn’t dying to sink his teeth into every inch of the Earth Ghoul that was right fucking there. Watching the way he threw everything into his drums, the way he gripped the sticks with his hands (Satanas those hands would be his downfall), the sweat pouring off of him. Mountain was perfect in every way and Swiss wanted nothing more than to take a bite out of him as soon as he could. He didn’t know what had gotten into him, why he wanted to feel his teeth sink into his flesh, but he needed it more than air and it was the only thing he could focus on right now.

All Ritual long he was stealing glances at Mountain, throwing him his thousand watt smile and tilting his head. Eventually Mountain caught on and Swiss would occasionally catch him biting at his lip, flashing a glimpse of his fangs, running his hands up and down his thighs when he had a moment to rest. Swiss felt like he was on fire, burning from the inside out. He took it out on everything except for the Ghoul he wanted between his teeth the most. When the buildup became too much, he jumped off his stage and stomped across to Dew, toying around with him during Watcher in the Sky. On his way back, he took the path that went behind Mountain’s kit and quickly snuck up to him, tickling at his waist, and then made his way back to his stage. For now, he was sated, but it wouldn’t last long.

Once the final song was finished and Mountain was able to climb down from his platform, Swiss practically pounced on the giant. He hugged him, his arms immediately wrapping around his waist and squeezing, and inhaled his scent. Even through his sweat soaked clothes, which Swiss found himself gently gnawing at as he hugged him, he could smell dirt, moss, pine trees, fresh air, all of the scents that enveloped the Earth Ghoul and made him him. It was like taking a walk through a forest every time that scent washed over Swiss and he never wanted to leave. 

Through final bows, Swiss was glued to his side, and as they made their way off the stage for the final time, he refused to let go of Mountain’s hand. He dragged him away, practically sprinting back to the dressing room. The others chatted amongst themselves, pretending like they didn’t notice how Swiss’ desire was practically drowning them with how strong it was tonight. No one even jokingly made a pass at Mountain with how Swiss had been acting, content to pair off with each other and leave the two of them to themselves. Swiss changed quickly, throwing on sweatpants and a hoodie and keeping his eyes trained on Mountain the entire time. He audibly groaned watching him undress and change into his after show clothing, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited around for the rest of the pack to be ready to head to the van. 

The ride to the hotel felt like it took far too long. Swiss sat next to Mountain, who was running his fingertips across the top of his head, occasionally scratching the space that would be between his horns if they weren’t all still glamoured. Everyone laughed, talked about the Ritual, but all Swiss could focus on was Mountain and how he was going to devour him as soon as their hotel room door was shut. 

“Just a bit longer, Spark. You’re being so good,” he whispered, and Swiss thought he was going to die on the spot from those words alone.

Once they were in the hotel lobby and the keys had been passed out by Papa, his usual speech about behaving and not causing any issues given, the Ghouls all piled into the elevator to head to their respective floors. Swiss hadn’t let go of Mountain, burying his head in his chest and just breathing in his scent to try and keep himself calm. The elevator ride was mercifully quick and when they hit their floor and stepped out, it was Mountain’s turn to drag Swiss along as he walked toward their room for the night, the Multi-Ghoul feeling like he was high off of the scent he had been breathing in.

“Have fun you two,” Dew called out, saluting the two Ghouls as he dipped into his and Rain’s shared room.

Swiss just flung up his middle finger as he fumbled his way through unlocking the door and kicking it open, stepping inside with Mountain right behind him. The door to the hotel room was barely shut and their bags were still in hand but Swiss was already all over Mountain. He was all hands, claws, teeth, desperately grabbing and pulling at Mountain’s clothes to get them off as soon as he could.

“Need you, Mount. Please,” he begged, pleaded, swore to Lucifer himself that he would do anything just to have his Earth Ghoul now.

Mountain effortlessly picked Swiss up, making him feel small which was an unusual feeling for him, and walked over to the bed. Swiss nipped at any open skin that he could reach with Mountain just chuckling at how needy the Multi-Ghoul was.

“What is it with you tonight, Spark?” He sat down on the edge of the bed, holding Swiss in his lap as he continued to pull at his shirt, grumbling when Mountain dropped his glamour halfway through pulling it off of his head and it got caught on one of his horns. “You’re so cute when you’re grumpy, you know.” He gently pressed a kiss to the end of Swiss’ nose and watched as his glamour melted away.

“Cut it out, Mount,” he chuckled, his cheeks darkening at Mountain’s compliment. “I just…I don’t fucking know, don’t ask, just take your clothes off.” 

Mountain, rolling his eyes, ran his hands up the back of Swiss’ shirt, claws dragging back down his skin. “You’re insatiable, Swiss. We have all night,” he whispered, leaning in to run his fangs along Swiss’ pulse point. 

Swiss whined, a needy and pathetic noise that made Mountain smile. “Fucking hells, just let me-“ He was cut off by the feeling of Mountain sinking his teeth into his shoulder and he felt his cock kick in his sweatpants. The strangled sounds that escaped his throat only seemed to urge the Earth Ghoul on, his teeth shifting while still buried in Swiss’ skin. It took more effort than he could fathom to not immediately make a mess of himself and he had no idea how he managed to hold his shit together.

When he finally pulled away, gently licking at the puncture marks, Swiss was fuzzy headed and grinning like an idiot. “Already falling apart, are we?” Mountain chuckled and drug his teeth across the bite again which, mercifully, made Swiss come to his senses. 

Swiss growled, pushing Mountain down onto the bed and holding his hands above his head. “I’ve been waiting all fucking night to get you under me, Dirt Boy. Sit. Still. Behave.” His voice was a low rumble, that of a predator finally locking on to its prey. He nosed behind Mountain’s ear, let his tongue run down the vein on his throat that he loved so much, felt his fangs dripping with anticipation. As he inhaled Mountain’s earthy scent, he felt him squirm beneath him and he growled again. “Don’t move, Petal. Let me have this. You have no idea how much I need this.”

Mountain behaves, stays still, keeps his arms where Swiss had them held down so that his own hands are free to drift up and down his chest, his waist, his hips, digging his fingertips in hard enough to leave bruises that he’ll see for days. When Swiss finally had his fill, scenting him enough to where no one will be able to mistake who marked up the Earth Ghoul, he sat back and looked down at him for a moment. He wasn’t prepared for Mountain to tilt his head ever so slightly and grin at him and it made his breath catch. “Go on, Spark,” he whispered and turned his head fully to the side, baring his throat to the Multi-Ghoul.

Any resolve that Swiss had pretended he still held vanished and he immediately bared his fangs and latched on to Mountain’s throat. He punctured the skin effortlessly, like it was nothing more than paper, and wiggled his jaw as he tried to get the best hold. Mountain stayed as still as he could but the sounds he let out underneath Swiss only served to encourage the Multi-Ghoul to bite harder, deeper, ensuring his mark would be permanent. Swiss moved his hands everywhere on Mountain that he could get ahold of, less with the desire to leave bruises and more with a need to just feelhim. 

Seconds, minutes, neither Ghoul could tell how long had passed before Swiss removed his teeth from Mountain’s neck, lapping the blood that flowed from the deep puncture marks. He kissed the dark and swollen skin around the bite gently, smirking when Mountain would hiss from the pain. 

“You look so pretty with my teeth marks on you, Petal,” Swiss whispered against his skin as he continued to kiss, moving from the bite to the front of his neck, down and across his chest. He left less intrusive bite marks, these more intended to be playful, akin to decorations. Moving down from his chest to his stomach, his hips, nipping and marking as he moved. He would alter between leaving teeth marks in the skin to sucking pretty bruises, kissing each mark he made. Sitting back on Mountain’s legs, he admired his work.

Mountain’s eyes were glazed over, fluttering open and closed occasionally. His beautiful grey skin was covered in Swiss’ marks and he looked like a beautiful piece of art. Swiss took his fingertips and moved them along Mountain’s skin. As gentle as he was, Mountain let out soft whimpers each time he made contact with a mark, his hips rolling up against Swiss’ body as he desperately searched for any sort of contact.

“Oh Mount, who’s falling apart now?” Swiss chuckled as he bent back over, fangs itching to sink back into skin.

[miasmaghoul]

bangs on the table YOU KNOW WHAT IM HERE FOR LET ME SEE THAT FUCKING SWISSDEW TAILSEEEEAAAAXXX!!!!!MIASMAAAA

YOU FUCKIN GOT IT BRO

(ft trans Dew (use of cunt/clit/etc for his anatomy), public play and tail fucking (obvs))

Movie night is one of Dew's favorites.

It's nice to have everyone around, to be able to see and smell every member of his motley little pack. Nice to pick out a DVD or three from their modest collection, ones they've all seen a hundred times, and hunker down for a few hours of peace.

Tonight had started as they all do - movies were chosen, snacks were prepared, seats were claimed. Dew had taken up his usual post at the far end of their most worn couch. It's woefully tattered and lumpy, pale green suede covered in stitched over claw marks and many suspicious stains, but it's infinitely comfortable. Dew's pretty sure this particular spot has a permanent imprint of his nonexistant ass cheeks.

There had been no reason to question it when Swiss flopped down at the opposite end of it. It's where he usually sat, where Dew has spent many frantic evenings riding the other ghoul with his pants around his thighs and a hand over his mouth. He'd offered Swiss a nod whole he chatted with Aether, gotten an exaggerated wink in return, and that had been that.

It's been an hour or so since then, and the ghouls are all caught up in Aeon's choice of 2 Fast 2 Furious. Cumulus and Aether occupy the loveseat to Dew's left, curled up together and feeding each other chocolate covered pretzels. The other couch holds Rain, Mountain and Sunshine, the smaller ghouls curled up into Mountain's sides and buried under a blanket. Aeon and Cirrus had both taken up armchairs brought from their respective rooms - no one was in the mood to lay on the floor tonight. Cirrus keeps her hands busy with her latest crochet project, while Aeon has managed to contort himself into a halfway upside down ball of lanky limbs for the optimal viewing experience.

Dew himself has settled in nicely too, legs splayed wide underneath his own cozy purple blanket. He munches on caramel popcorn, batting Aurora's hand away whenever she tries to sneak a piece from his bowl. She'd joined him and Swiss last minute, and Dew was far from complaining about it - aside from her snack thievery, of course. She's small, quiet, and seems to be hopelessly engrossed in whatever nonsense is happening on screen.

Dew hasn't really been paying attention to that, though. Can't. Not when thick fingers keep playing with his hair just enough to distract.

It's subtle, Swiss's touch. Gentle. Teasing. Dew has his hair tied up, but the few wisps hanging from his sloppy bun are just long enough for the other ghoul to twirl. Every time rough knuckles brush against the back of his neck Dew shoots Swiss a look. No more than a glance, just out of the corner of his eye, but he knows Swiss sees it. Can tell by the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and by the way Swiss gives the ashy blonde lock of hair between his fingers a little tug.

It's unfair, really, that Swiss has this sort of reach. Stupid long arms. Even with Aurora between them, he has no problem toying with Dew. If he tried to reach out to the other ghoul himself, Dew would maybe be able to poke him in the shoulder. Maybe.

Of course, Swiss's arms aren't the only thing that have reach.

The tail retreats, but only for a moment. Just long enough to snake its way up Dew's clothed calf instead, sliding easily over slippery fabric.

Dew jumps a little when something rubs against his foot, sneaks into the leg of his joggers to tickle his bare ankle. It's leathery and warm, flat. The spaded tip of Swiss's tail, he realizes. The jolt earns him a sidelong look from Aurora, and Dew angles a glare over the little ghoulette's head. Swiss pays him no mind, taking a long pull from his beer and giving that same lock of hair another gentle pull.

His reach is really unfair.

Dew sighs through his nose, tossing another piece of popcorn into his mouth as Swiss rests that heavy hand on the back of his neck. Trying to keep up appearances. Then a rough thumb rubs at the sensitive spot behind his ear, and Dew can't help the way he leans into it.

Curse Swiss for knowing all his weaknesses.

Not that Dew couldn't do the same, mind you. Hell, if Aurora weren't between them he'd already be digging mean fingers into Swiss's soft stomach to pull hissing laughter from him. Crawling into his lap to suck on that spot by his Adam's apple that makes his leg shake like a dog's.

Swiss, though, is never quite so obvious about these things. He has much more patience than Dew when it comes to teasing. He's slow and methodical, deliberate in his movements. The way he squeezes the back of Dew's neck, the way his tail oh-so-slowly worms its way up his thigh, the way Swiss's eyes never leave the screen - it's the perfect storm for the little ghoul.

He really should have been more suspicious of that wink.

Dew has never been good at holding a poker face. His cheeks go too pink, his brows gather too tightly, his mouth turns down at the corners - he wears his distress plain as day, and he knows that's why Swiss does things like this. Knows that's why he likes getting him worked up. Likes getting him all hot and slippery in public so he can wrangle the little ghoul back to his room and make fun of him while he bounces on his cock.

The end of Swiss's tail sneaks over his crotch, presses down, and Dew hides his sigh in a sip of his soda. He crunches on a piece of ice while Swiss pats at him, just above the spot where Dew can feel his clit starting to plump up.

It would be easy enough to shrug him off. He'd just have to shift, to cross his legs and lean further into the arm of the couch. Swiss would get the message. He should, he knows he should. Should stop this before it really starts and Swiss starts wringing reluctant pleasure from him with slow, maddening touches.

Swiss taps the back of his neck twice, his cunt throbs, and Dew does not move.

Well, he's never been known for his good decisions.

Dew keeps his eyes resolutely forward, tries to focus on the action on screen. Tries not to think about how warm Swiss's hand is, even against his own heated skin. Tries not to pay attention to how effortlessly Swiss's tail slides over his pants, on how it wriggles up under the soft cotton of his t-shirt. Dew holds his breath when it slips higher, and he feels his face flush darker.

Aurora steals popcorn from his bowl, and this time Dew does not try to stop her.

The sensation of that leathery spade flicking over his nipple is...unique. Not as rough as Swiss's fingers, not as smooth as his tongue, but nice all the same. Very nice, actually. He's always sensitive there, but the level of exposure makes it so much worse.

Swiss repeats on the other side of his chest, Dew's jaw clenches, and he can practically hear Swiss's smirk.

He tries to keep his breathing even, he swears he does, but the more Swiss rubs at his tender buds the harder it gets. The harder he gets. Dew chews his lip in an attempt to hold in the whimper he can feel bubbling up in his throat. He knows it'll be a dead giveaway, and as much as this sort of play gets his fat little clit all stiff he would really rather not be caught. With effort he manages to swallow down the sound, but Dew knows that the more Swiss toys with him the more impossible that task will become.

Dew also knows that he shouldn't lean heavier against Swiss's large hand. Shouldn't sigh softly in spite of himself when that too-skilled appendage glides down his stomach. He certainly shouldn't let his legs fall just a little further apart when Swiss slips the tip under his waistband. Wiggles it into his boxers.

It swipes over the swollen, stubby length hidden there, and Dew can't help his groan. He's quick to mask it behind a fake yawn, to cover his mouth with a caramel-sticky hand while his chest heats, but the damage is done. A whits-hot twist of shame slithers through his veins, lights his nerves up like a Christmas tree, and Dew really wishes he could explain why it makes him throb.

Swiss pays his reactions no mind, ever cool and casual. He sips his beer. Watches the movie. Kisses Aurora's hair when she snuggles into his shoulder. Laughs at something Sunshine says that Dew does not process. He can't focus on anything but the lazy way Swiss's tail plays with him.

He knows he's wet. Knows the light gray cotton of his boxers must have a damp spot soaked into it. He can tell by the way Swiss's curious appendage slips through his folds. If it weren't for the blanket he'd be able to hear it too, and the thought alone is enough to have Dew shivering. He cracks the knuckles of one hand, takes a deep breath, and hopes against hope that he isn't giving himself away.

That clever spade pushes further, nudges at his slick hole, and Dew has to shut his eyes to keep them from rolling back. The only reason he's keeping his head upright at this point is because Swiss is holding it. He has no idea how long the other ghoul has been tormenting him, but every inch of him tingles. Aches.

"You okay over there, sugar?"

Dew's own tail wraps itself around his shin, and he's hit with a sudden flash of the one night a couple weeks ago where Swiss had walked in on him fucking himself stupid with it.

"Would you look at that," he'd said, leaning against the doorframe while Dew wheezed and panted and tried to sling a blanket over his hips. "You really will stick anything in there, huh?"

As though he can read Dew's mind, Swiss chooses that moment to finally inch his way inside. Slowly, in little stabs that make Dew bite his tongue. The spade folds when it slips in, and the length of Swiss's tail follows it with absolutely no urgency. Stretching him just enough to feel.

Dew can't help but recall what it felt like that night, when Swiss had pushed into his needy body alongside his own wriggling tail, and the little ghoul shudders so hard his teeth chatter.

Cumulus's voice makes him yip in surprise, makes him clench, and Swiss does not help matters with the way his tail slips further in.

"Y-yeah," Dew gasps, face hot. He clears his throat and rucks his blanket up to his shoulders. "Just, uh - just a little chilly."

Sure, the fire ghoul is chilly. That tracks. Dew thinks he can't be blamed for the bullshit excuse, really. Not with the way Swiss works him open, the way his tail swirls and prods at his most tender, secret places. He has the little ghoul snapped from the inside out, and Dew wishes he could hate him for it.

Cumulus doesn't seem to notice his distress, though. Her gaze never leaves the television, her head still pillowed on Aether's thigh. The only eyes Dew can feel on him certainly belong to Swiss, and he chances a heavy lidded sideways glance towards the other ghoul.

Swiss isn't staring so much as he's consuming Dew with those sparkling golden eyes. They burn hotter than the tightness building in his gut, the pressure in his pelvis. He shouldn't be this worked up, not for how little work Swiss has done. It's terrible, really, how affected he is by the other ghoul's efforts. Terrible how Swiss can be so unbothered while Dew feels like he's under a microscope.

Fuck, he's so into it.

He thinks he could probably cum like this. It's all too slow, too distant, but his clit keeps jumping and they both know what that means. He could, but he'd rather do it in a place where he could shove his tongue down Swiss's throat and jerk himself raw instead.

Dew licks his lips, clamps down around that invading tail, and Swiss rewards him with a knowing wink.

Then his hand and tail disappear with no warning, and Dew sags bodily into the couch.

"Sure smells like he is," Aeon chirps, and Dew blanches. "Get him outta here before he gets the couch wet."

"Think I'm gonna hit the sack," Swiss lilts, dutifully hiding his shit eating grin while he stands and stretches.

Aurora pouts at him for dislodging her, Dew can hear the displeased sound she makes, but his eyes are stuck on the sliver Swiss's belly that his stretch reveals. Distantly, he's aware of the credits rolling, of the others shifting. He totally misses the way Swiss smiles down at him, too focused on catching his breath and blinking away the encroaching haze.

"You coming, Sparky?"

Everyone laughs, and Dew burns.

"Can do," Swiss trills, dragging the little ghoul off the couch and towards the hall and offering Aeon a mock salute. "C'mon, spitfire," he coos in Dew's ear, holding him close when his legs threaten to buckle, "let's get you taken care of."

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill you," Dew spits once he finds his voice, thready and tight as it is with shame and arousal.

"Sure you are," Swiss chuckles. He curls his sticky tail around Dew's skinny bicep, and Dew catches the overwhelming salt-and-spice scent of his own slick. It makes his stomach flip as much as it makes his cunt clench.

"Shut up and fuck me before I strangle you."

Swiss barks out a laugh, and Dew yelps when the other ghoul hoists his slight body over a broad shoulder. He kicks his little feet in protest, and Swiss gives his ass a firm slap for his efforts. His tail sways when he walks, and Dew can't keep his eyes off of it.

"Don't give me ideas, shorty," Swiss teases, "I've already seen exactly what you like when these things are involved."

Swiss's tail caresses his face, glides over his parted lips, and Dew groans at the taste of himself.

This is going to be a very long night.

[darkchocoboo]

make me yours | aether ghoul

summary: You’re something like a headmaster in the abbey and dating Aether. 

cw: SMUT, p in v sex, oral (f! receiving), fingering, praising, dirty talk, pet names ( baby, babygirl), cock-warming, poorly translated Latin, unprotected sex

MINORS STAY AWAY! 

You were standing behind the pulpit where Copia lectured the new-comers. It was boring, the weather was hot and your feet was aching because your new heels. You just wanted to get the fuck out of there and hide in your room. While Copia was reading and explaining some of the rules to follow in the abbey your eyes got caught one of the ghouls. Your ghoul. The way his black button-up's arms wrapped around his biceps, his calves in his skinny jeans made your mouth water.

"And what if we dont follow the rules? You gonna kill us?" said a new-comer with a grin in their face.

"Maybe Sister Pluvia wants to explain. Hm?" Copia turned to you with boredom on his face, rolling his mismatched eyes.

"Thank you Papa." You walked in to pulpit. Gave a little "I'm gonna fuck up your lives" smile and sighed.

"If you don't follow the rules around here, no no, nobody is gonna get killed. In that situation I'll be giving you chores, after doing the chores you gonna wish you were dead. My friendly advice to you, and I say it with my whole heart, follow the rules."

"Sure honey." New sibling of sin relaxed on their seat like you were joking. That pissed you off. Your knuckles that where holding the pulpit turned white. Your tongue rolled over your red painted lips.

"Dewdrop, take them. They're your personal assistant now." Dew's tail wiggled a little with excitment.

"You can go to your dens now. Welcome and enjoy."

You left the chapel while ghouls and Copia followed you. You walked into your office- chamber with fast steps, kicked your heels off and sat on your leather couch. Sun was coming down, leaving little traces on your walls, covered with book shelfs between drapes. Shining on the glass pieces it hit. Your hands reached over to cristal whiskey bottle sitting on your coffe table. Pouring yourself one while thinking about the day with the new-comers. You cursed Sister Imperator for putting you to this position. It was basicly baby-sitting. You hated telling everyone what to do and what not. But you tried to do your best to keep everyone in line. Even Papa Emeritus IV and his ghouls.

Sometimes it was more hard handling them than newbies. Keeping an eye on Dew so he doesn’t set anything on fire. And Mountain so he doesn’t eats anything un-edible. Telling Rain to take his lazy ass to the practice room for practicing rituals. Keeping Swiss away from new sibling so he doesn’t charm them into his bed. Keeping Aether on ground, not jumping on abbey’s old floors. And getting Copia to do his job as The Papa. It was all on your shoulders with other abbey- Siblings of Sin jobs.

Exhaustion washed over your body. Your head falled back while you sipped the whiskey. Then there was a knock on your door. You exactly know who it was.

"Come in." His big body entered the room with hesitation. Checked the room for another one. When he realized you were alone he relaxed. Took his mask off.

"Hi baby." you murmured while offering him some whiskey. He grabbed the glass, leaning over you and giving you a soft kiss.

"You were a little harsh on that new-comer, don't you think?" You bit your lips with frustration.

"No, Aether. I wasn't. If I let it slide this time they will never respect me or take me serious. Ever. I can't let that happen. It's my job to keep them in line. Keep you in line."

He burried his face to your neck, breathing slowly there to calm you. He wrapped his tail around your arm.

"Sorry. I know it's hard on you too but really? Dew?"

You let out a chuckle. Pulling you to his lap, your side restes on his chest as you sit sideways.

"Maybe it was harsh. It could've been Swiss. Less chaotic."

“He would fuck them.”



He placed a little kiss on your neck. Your hands running over his back wanting more from him. He peppered more kisses down to your cleavage. He changes positions. Now your clothed back vas on couch. Pulling you under him. His smell was filling your nose while he was hovering over you. His hands on your side, you between his legs. You raised your body in need for his lips. Capturing his lips with yours, your tongue running over his lips waiting for an opening to his mouth. His hand resting on your waist run over to your ass squeezing tightly. A moan escaped your lips.

“That dress, that skin tight dress was teasing me all day. How good your ass looks in that while you’re running your little errands in the abbey. The look you give every time you catch me staring at your ass. While giving the welcome talk, you were something else. I like the bossy side of you. Not gonna lie, but I like more how you become a submissive little bitch under me.” His lips touching yours with every word he says.

“A-aet” your moan was short with his lips on yours. Your arms snaking over his big torso to pull him closer to you. His hands grabbed the zipper of the dress and undressed you in seconds, now giving your breast harsh kisses knowing it will bruise.

Aether was a lot different when he was horny. It was like he was somebody else. None of that soft teddy bear side of him was showing. His eyes turns to a deeper tone of purple. Skin turning almost blue like a corpse but hot like fire of the holy Hells was burning inside of his body. Fangs more sharp and he was not ashamed to use them. Claws scratching your body carelessly. You were used to waking up in bruises and scratches on your body. Whole abbey was used to it. His lips peppering kisses on your boobs, down to your navel, leaving wet traces behind.

He wanted to kiss every inch of your body. To mark you on every visible place so everyone knew you belong to him. Never letting anyone to touch you again. He was possessive over you in moments like this.

His lips was now close to your core, giving your inner thighs sloppy open mouthed kisses. Your red painted nails grabbing his locks and pushing him to your core.

“No. Not yet Amor. It’ my time to tease.” His eyes glowing purple and burning your skin. He left a trail of sloppy kisses to your lower belly. Never breaking the eye contact. His breath hit your core over the red mesh thong. It made you more wet.

“Aether, baby please.” You could only mumble under your breath. He got up, leaving you behind like the wet mess you’re.

“No, Y/N. That ain’t the nickname I wanna hear. Try again.” He left you on the couch, got up. He poured himself another glass of whiskey, unbuttoned his black button-ups, throw the fabric to the other side of the room. His hands was hanging from his belt buckle, daring words making you ache under his purple gaze.

You liked how his belly piercing was shining under the light that was escaping from the small slit between the drapes.

“Daddy, please, fuck me.” Your hands trailed his jeans. Slowly walking to his bulge under fabrics.

“If you want, baby. Daddy is gonna give you what you want.” He sat between your legs, his face close to your clothed core. His nose brushing against your core makes you whimper under his touch. He pulled your thong to side as his other hand grabbed your thigh.

“I love your pussy.” Hot breath tickling your folds. “Always s’wet for me, yeah?” He parted your folds with his knuckles. Flat tongue licked your arrousal from your core. Your back arched with his move.

“Taste so sweet baby, always so good. Like you’re my drug. I'm never letting anyone taste you, yeah?"

"No, daddy. No one except you."

His lips covered your clit that was already wet from your arrousal. Pulling your sensitive nub with his lips. His two fingers teased your entrance while he was ruining you with his mouth.

"P-please."

His middle finger finds his way in to your wet cunt. Your walls clenching around him in need to feel full. Leaviny our insides and pushing back in immediately, reaching your deepest spots. Your taste made him moan to your core. Sending vibrations to your whole body. He added the second finger in, streching you sweetly. He curled his fingers inside. Touching your sweet spot. Your hands found his horns and push him between your legs as your thighs closed around his head.

"A-aether, please." He ripped himself from your heat, forcing himself to keep away his lips from your taste. Fingers still inside you as you tried to form a sentence, squirming with the feeling.

"What, baby? Use your words."

"Aeth, I need you. I need you inside me. I need your cock. Please."

"Attagirl."

He unbuckeled his belt in a heartbeat. Ripped his jeans away from his body along with his boxers. You adored his body. You loved his body. His muscles peaks under his squishy soft body. His thick thighs that made you wanted to settle between and spend rest of you mortal life. His calves, his muscular calves, his arms tensed under the feeling, board shoulders, his long stence. You just wanted to live under his skin, as close to him as possible.

“You’re gorgeous.” You said under your breath, blush covering your face as the words escaped your lips.

“Look at you, blushing under me like I just didn’t eat you out.” He placed a kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on them. Hands cupped his cheeks as he found his place between your legs. His painfully hard cock teasing your clit as he kept his lips on yours. His precum mixing with your juices between your legs. You grind yourself agains him to feel him more. His hand grabbed the base of his cock teasing you as he spread mixed liquids to his shaft.

“You don’t even need anything, do you? You just want me to slid right in you filthy whore. You just can’t resist me.” You could just nod, couldn’t reach your words. Already cock-dumb from his acts. His tip forced your entrance. You pushed your hips to his as you wanted more of him. He slowly pushed himself in you. No matter how many times you did this, no matter how much he streched you before it always felt like it wasn’t gonna fit. He bottomed inside you as the burning feeling tickled your walls. Stinging pain turned to a hot devouring one as he waited for you to adjust the feeling. He peppered kisses to your neck and shoulder in a calming manner.

“Aether, move, please.” Those were the only words you could find as your brain turned into jelly.

He started to move in and out of you while  he mouthed your hardened nipple. Only thing that was coming out of your mouth was loud moans. Sound of the wet skins slapping his grunts as he got faster echoed in your chamber. He was mumbling praises to your ear but you couldn’ put your brain tpgether to understand it. His hand on your waist find your clit and started to rub it. It was too much for you to handle.

Your climax grow inside of you as he fastened his pace. His cock hit deep inside of you.

“I c-can’t, p-please.”

“You can take it, Amor.” Your legs wrapped aroun his torso was shaking around him with the feeling. He nipped at your neck as his sharp nails dig into your arm. Fangs breaking your skin, red liquid painting his lips.

His thrusts got sloppy as your walls squeezed his length.

“Cum on me, Mel. Cum around my cock. Help me burry my seeds deep in you. Let me put a little ghoul in you. You would look so good with my baby inside you. Oh fuck, Satanas. I want you to have my baby.” Your high hit you as his words filled your ear. With his shaky breath and his dirty words You couldn’t maintain yourself. Your walls clenched around him. Legs hugged his torso thighter which made him moan loud. You pulled him into a kiss to silence your loud moan. Your head got dizzy with his tongue in your mouth. His unique smell filled your nose. You grabbed his horns to hold him in place as he shot his ropes inside you. Ropes and ropes of thick cum filled your insides, burried so deep.

“You’re so good for me, Mel. S’good.” His body weight curshed you under him as your hands brushed against his back.

“I love you, you know that right?”

“I know, Aeth. I love you too.” He placed a soft kiss on your neck, light as a feather.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

****

“Babe, we’re out of coffee I’m going to get some from ghoul common room.” You said while putting his oversized hoodie on yourself. He walked out of the bedroom to your office. Only thing on him was a black towel wrapped around his waist loosely. Your insides tingled with the sight.

“You look so beautiful in my clothes, Cara. I can just bend you over this coffee counter and fuck you for hours.” He trapped you between his big body and counter. Lips brushing your ear in a ticklish way. Your breathes got faster as his bare chest pressed into yours more. You could feel his half hard lenght between your legs.

“I would love that, Aeth. But I have to work.” You pressed a hot kiss on his chin. You caressed his arm as you hold his hand on your way to the door.

“I’m gonna get coffee now” you opened the door but didn’t walk out. You steal a small kiss from his lips. “when I get back” you took a step to the hallway. His lips followed you to the hallway. Dragging his naked body out of the room. “you can do whatever you want to do to me daddy.” He opened his eyes lazily. Then he took a step back.

“Fuck.” He slammed the door to your face as you stand there in shock. You turned back to see what scared him. A sister of sin was standing behind you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath.

“I’m sorry, Sister Pluvia. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’m so sorry. I’ll go now.” You squeezed the bridge of your nose. You switched to your Professional voice in a heartbeat.

“You wanted to talk to me Sister, uhm?”

“Mary, it’s Mary.” You chuckled to the name. Ironic.

“Walk with me, Sister Mary. How can I help you?” You felt so ridiculous, walking in your boyfriends clothes that was clearly too big for you. Wearing the rat slippers that Copia got for your birthday. Your hair wet from the long shower you took together, holding an empty coffee mug, with the sister caught you and your boyfriend dirty talking.

“I’m so sorry that I disturbed you in an un-appropriet time. In middle of the night. But I’m worried about my friend. They didn’t come to dinner and they didn’t come to the dens as well.”

“Your fri- oh the one from earlier. I’m sure they're okay, honey. No need to worry. Nothing bad is gonna happen to them. But I’m going to visit Ghouls now. I’m gonna check on them too, if it’s gonna ease your worry.” She released a long breath. Following you to the ghouls’ chambers.

“I would be so happy. Thank you Sister.” You took a left turn to the cold and black hallway. Her steps slowed down when she realized where she was.

“They’re not gonna eat you Sister. But you can wait here if you want.” She gave you a little nod while you knock on the door and enter the common room.

“Hi Sunny.” She raised her head from the book she was reading. Gave you a friendly smile when she realized it was you.

“Hi baby. Everything all right?” You smiled back to her.

“Yeah no worries. I came to borrow some coffee. Aether drank all of it.” You raised the mug you’re holding.

“It’s fresh. I just brewed it.”

“Oh marry me, baby. I love you.” You placed a soft kiss on her forehead before you walked to get your coffee.

“Don’t let Aether hear. But I will.”

Ghouls’ common room was a round room. One side of it was floor lenght windows with black drapes around them. There was a library for ghouls. On one side there was a coffee counter and a snack bar, next to the tv and gaming console, and then the doors opening to ghouls’ rooms. Dewdrop’s door opened when he heard your voice. With the first step he took out, he started laughing his ass off.

“What?” You turned your face to him when he fell on the ground.

"What?" You repeated yourself in worry.

"You, you look ridiculous. What are those?" He said trying to calm himself. "You look like babies who wears their clothes." You scrunched your face as he got up from the floor and sit on Sunshine's lap.

"Haha" you released a fake laugh as he wiped tears from his eyes.

"Or- or like you washed your clothes accidentally too cold." You were genuinely confused this time, Sunny's eyes find yours as she shared the same feelings with you.

"Dew, what?"

"Like when you wash them too hot they shrink, when it's too cold they get big."

His stupidity didn't even made you laugh. You were worried about him. You didn't even knew if he was able to walk across the road without help at this point.

"Yeah, Dewy. That's right. They do." You petted his shoulder while you walked to the door.

"Hey, Dewy, where is that newbie now?"

"They're cleaning my room. And then they're gonna clean and polish my guitar next."

You gave him a little nod as you walked out. Dewdrop made that poor newbie do his chores and Lucifer knows what else. Sister Mary raised her head as you took steps to her side.

"They're okay. Little busy. But okay. Go to your bed now Sister." She thanked you in a small manner as she found the stairs to the dens.

"And Sister Mary" you catched her attention from behind. "This whole night stays between us. Good night."

 You slammed the door behind you to catch Aether’s attention.

“Satanas, I wanna go to sleep.” You murmured. Dropping your body to the office chair.

“Mia cara, let’s sleep.” He hugged you from behind. Placing a sloppy kiss on his arm you talked.

“I can’t. I have things to do. Band’s ritual lists, bills, I can’t baby.”  He spin you to face him.

“Let me help you relax.” He kissed your lips slowly. As his hand walked through your body.

“You don’t have to do anything. Just sit there prettily and let me do all the work.”

He held you by the waist and raised you to his height. Your legs wrapping around his waist.

“You look s’good with my clothes, my smell wrapping you. You gonna be my death baby. Your pretty little body is gonna kill me.” His hands run inside your sweatpants and squeezed your ass. Kneeding your flesh harshly as his sharpened claws scratched your skin. Small red fluids beaded over the scratch.

The sweats you’re wearing slid through your legs taking your lace panties with them. He lowered his underwear as he sit to the chair. His thick cock hitting your already wet core. Flipping you over so you’re facing your desk filled with folders.

A moan escaped your lips as his precum covered tip brushed over your sensitive nub.

“Aeth,”

“Just focus on your job baby. I got you.” He left small kisses on your  exposed neck.  His tip sliding between your folds as he started pushing his lenght inside your wet hole.

“Takin’ me so well baby. Like you’re made for me. Just like that." Words left his lips between his lewd moans. Without the proper preparation his thickness burned your hole as he kept pushing himself between your walls. That slight burn in your core made you even wetter for him. His hand found one of your nipple and started toying sensitive skin between his fingers.

"You're surprising calm today, baby." You finally found your words as he was deep inside you, his tip pushing your cervix.

"I go harsh on you 'cause I know you enjoy it as much as I do, but now you need me to be a good boy. So I'll be a good boy. I'm just gonna sit here, burried deep inside you and let you do what you do."

His hand left your nipple alone as he grabbed his phone from your desk. His tail wrapping around your leg, his cock twitching inside you as your walls clench around him occasionally.

Maybe hours passed as you sit on his cock, maybe minutes. You couldn't tell. His thick shaft inside you was driving you crazy. The full feeling, his throbes inside your walls, his tip hitting different spots when he laughs something he saw on his phone. You just couldn't take it anymore. Pen dropped from your hand.

You circled your hips for more friction. Shock got him as you moved up and down on his cock.

"B-baby?"

"I swear to Lucifer, if you don't bend me over to that fucking table and fuck the living shit out of me I'm gonna go crazy. I-I can't take it anymore."

"As you wish Mia cara." He grabbed your waist as he kicked the chair under him and stand up. Slammin your chest to the desk. His strong fingers found its way to your hair, grabbing it harshly. Sending shivers down your body. His chest pressed against your back. Lips touching that thin skin under your ear, he whispered.

"Quidquid domina mea vult a me."

He straightens his back, parts your leg with his foot, gray sweatpants still bundled up on your ankles. His hips slamming against yours when he starts giving what you wanted. Your hair in his hand was sending electric waves down on your body.

"Is this what you wanted, babygirl?" His chest, now back to your back. His lewd groans filling your ears as much as your own loud moans.

"Is your ghoul's dick making you feel that good?" His long finger wrapped around your throat as he kept talking dirty to your ear.

With the pressure on your throat and your hair your eyes started to water. Pleasure washing over your body with the burn in your lungs.

"OH, baby. You get so cock-dumb on my cock every time I fuck you, I forgot how smart my little dove is. You can't even say my name. Look at you."

His hand leaves your throat and finds its way to your clit. Starts rubbing loosely on the sensitive bud. Your mind goes blank as his hand's pace matches his hips. Your climax grows in you with everything he does. A throbe of his cock, a circle that his hands makes feels too much.

"Aether, I can't. T-to much." Your abdomen starts to feel so tight, it hurts. Your walls clenching around his cock as his thrust gets slow but deeper.

"I know you can, babygirl. Cum for this poor ghoul. I need it. I need you to cum on my cock."

His words does it for you. Whole world goes black for a good minute as your orgasm hits you hard. Your mind emptier than before. He doesn't slow down, his thrusts keep going in a search for his own relief. Your legs shake as your whole body feels overwhelmed. Not after three thrusts he shoots thick ropes of white liquid all over your insides. Fills you up with the warmth.

His chest falls over your back once again, he doesn't pull out yet. Breathing heavily and crushing you with his weight.

"Attagirl. I knew you could do it. You always make me feel good after all." He peppered kisses all over your face and neck.

"Let's go to bed."

He grabs your waist and walks to your bedroom with long steps.

"Aether," you say as he puts you on your bed and reaches for a washcloth to clean you up.

"Mark me. Make me yours."