#nameless ghouls x f! reader

[ace-of-gay]

A Mountain is home

I currently dont have a masterlist set up for this collection but i hope you enjoy this none the less, this will eventually be posted on ao3 but i dont have an account currently

Warnings: age regression (not very in depth) , self destructive stimming like scratching pulling on tail thrashing and hitting ones self during a neurodivergent meltdown, quite panicked reader, reader has trauma, reader is a full ghoul this time cause this is still my interpretation of a fantasy universe <3, cuddles and ghoul-piles!!!

The word muzzle is used multiple times over but is referring to a mouth cover to symbolize silence

I headcannon mountain as autistic, no shoes for lifeee yup thats all

age regression is a coping mechanism that can be both voluntary and/or involuntary it is entirely safe and reccomended by therapists if they believe it would be effective for said person but as mentioned for some people it is entirely unpredictable, if this makes you uncomfortable please scroll away thank you <3

Not betad or edited

Word count: 5,611words (it basically wrote itself)

Youd been summoned just a week ago and it already seems as though youre once again fading into the background, no one had taught you if someone of your neurotype was acceptable in todays world, the bok-hord in hell or library as you read above the one here in the church of sin was not at all up to date on whats acceptable yet.

This is your second time being summoned, your first ritual was terrifying but what made it worse is they thought you were impossible to become a domestic ghoul, the uncertainty of being sent back from this one weighed on you, if you went back again no one would be there for you.

Holding yourself back and biting your tongue from doing or saying anything including the strange chirps and trills that kept you regulated, taking it upon yourself to be even more docile and quieter than the tall ghoul behind the drums, no matter the situation not a peep has been heard from you, all you did was play your instrument, there was no jumping around putting on a presentation, the others however did so, its just practice but you hadnt earned your place, you could always be sent back for even the most minor of slip up, its happend before and you for sure wont let it happen again.

《~♡~》

Friday nights are prime for the others, the guys in a ghoul-pile and girls raiding the fridge for snacks while watching a film, in the common area designated for only ghouls no one wearing their mask but yourself, only passing through doing your best to keep in the shadows, if youre out of place surely youll be duely punished, the first time you were summoned your family and friends were disappointed to see you sent back but your mother worst of all had said she had expected it , you had no place yet, so your room was for you the closest to safety.

Locking the door to your room as soon as you returned; taking off themask and the muzzle of sorts, some ghouls had facepaint instead but you weren't vocal so there was no reason, finally now to a safe place you let everything fall from its people pleasing manner into what felt most like yourself, jumping up and down to get your blood flowing and thoughts swarming.

"Who needs others when you can feel at home just being yourself", clicking and pacing and flapping your hands you were trying to catch up to what your body demanded, but

It just kept spilling, from the deepest places in your mind, crevasses full of discomfort, confusion, irritation and just the most overwhelming feeling that could muster  itself from your being.

Nothing was working, it was too late to regulate and your mind took to a melt down, shaking your head wasnt good enough, grabbing hold of your horns, you violently shake yourself around, tail whipping and slashing all around you, and than the crying.

Oh how the crying was the worst part, shoving the muzzle back on it didn't do much for silence but its still an attempt, everyones expectations ringing shrill in your ears, you didn't come from a happy home, your family torn apart by sinners from christs hall a completely different take on sin, as it caused harm.

Hands over your muzzle to silence just a bit more if possible and than the silent choked sobs, more physically painful but it wouldn't draw attention, thats the last thing you wanted, slamming your fists down against your thighs followed by tugging on your tail and scratching the spade of it until it hurt, the only thing that could regulate you was small jolts and shocks of pain and than it stopped, you were right back where you started, silent but this time you felt like a kit.

A tiny kit who got told that they need to learn to be normal, but for the time being there was the innocence, nothing would happen if you weren't, you were just different, and you were alone but you were still safe.

Putting the helmet back on, you take all of the blankets and pillows that are in your room and shove them under your bed, taking the cover sheet and creating a curtain between the floor and the frame, all of your tiny kit-like self holed up in one place, a place as small as the family and friends in your life had made you, maybe this time you were sent here to be safe.

Fixing up the nest you made under your bed you let yourself hide away from the world, be as small and pure as your mind could muster and let all the terrible feelings melt away, chirping and trilling quietly as you lay there eventually being held close and coddled by darkness, falling asleep you would not return to the common rooms until most necessary.

Grabbing food and hiding once more, at some point when you were in the library and had found scratch paper, a sketchbook , a couple pencils and a mess of tacks set out in a bin that had the word 'FREE' in print on it for anyone to partake in the activity of drawing, collecting the supplies and a few books on ghouls with neurodivergencies, and just a simple fairy tale, you embark back to your room.

Over the weekend you had covered the walls in the corner of the room under your bed with fantastical pictures of your dreams, and drawings of each ghoul and papas youve seen so far.

《~♡~》

When monday came it was back to breakfast and lessons in the morning, lunch after practice around noon and communal chores, the others were very loud today, as for yourself youd been silent like predicted but you could feel eyes on you and could hear bickering but nothing quite clear of their words.

making dinner for everyone was the last thing, it was easy, it was one thing your family didn't ridicule you over, your cooking made anyone who was having a bad day feel better, there was so much passion that anyone could see and taste.

your tail flowing in an easy, comforting sway and a smile hidden under your muzzle, the first smile to bare your face outside of your room and it felt like this was what would give you your place to stay.

Dishing everyones plates with your home-made meal and taking it to the ghouls and ghoulettes where they each were was apparently unexpected and out of their ordinary, but you had no idea, how would you when you hide away, maybe they would take that into consideration. This was also one of the first times you got to hear others address you, smiles and bright eyes shared when they where blown away by your cooking, you dished up yourself and sat at the island counter crouching on a wooden stool, sitting on them hurts the backs of your legs and crouching was more like hugging yourself anyway.

Soon enough people would march in putting their dishes in the sink giving a thankyou and a smile or a compliment to your cooking, slowly eating your food, savoring each bite, the comments from others causing your tail to pick up its sway with a little flick in it, maybe itll be okay.

You go to put your dish in the sink after rinsing it off when the tall guy from behind the drums approaches, while just as quiet as you he was also playful like the others.

"Hey y/n dinner was amazing, i cant wait til next week to see what you come up with" he exclaimed, "im mountain by the way, i know i didn't exactly introduce myself at all since you first got here, we wanted you to settle in, you seemed very stressed" he added before someone shouted for him from the other room, leaving with a smile and wave.

There was no expectation for you to respond, no expectation to look someone in the eyes, you let out a small chirp joined by a small movement in your hands.

《~♡~》

Back in your room you let your tail wag wildly,  pulling the books you'd been reading up on, you had gotten from them the fact that over the years some churches of sin have allowed a better understanding and acceptance for people and ghouls alike with neurodivergencies to be better recognized and seen as equals, there were things they didn't tell you about back in hell when you were told of your neurotype, like your sounds and movement for self regulation was called stimming and that it can be harmful but it can also be helpful just depending on the purpose and action, you had copied information from the book down on resources and important things you thought would help, these books were the most helpful and the fairy-tale was perfect however you needed a new one since youve read this one so many times you knew every line, you take the books back to the library.

Putting them back on their respective shelfs you pick out two new fairy-tales and stop by the free stuff bin, taking pencil lead an eraser and a new sketchbook, youve already filled your first one in just a few days, you dont have anymore room on the walls around your nest for more loose paper sketches so you need the sketchbook instead.

On your walk back to your room admiring the stained glass windows, lost in thoughts somewhere between regression and big feelings, letting them mingle and intertwine,

So lost in thought you dont see when papa copia started coming closer until he spoke up, "good evening y/n" a small scream torn from you as you are brought back to right now practically jumping out of your skin, your eyes big as you process who it is, the first time anyone has heard your voice in any way and it obviously had to be a panicked scream, this wouldn't sit well with your family, your mind shifting farther into regression, just wanting to be in your room again.

"My apologies little one" littleone? Is it that obvious you think to yourself, "it was not my intention to frighten you, i see youve taken a liking to the library, what books have you got there?" Hanging your head in shame and slight worry you show him the two fairy-tales and he breaks out in a grin "i remember reading those, i might have to look at them once more! A very good choice, Molto bene indeed" finishing up your silent-sided conversation you rush quickly back to your room, theres been too much interaction and what did papa copia mean by 'little one?'

《~♡~》

After a few days of this halfsided banter from the ghouls and papa youre started to feel a little more comfortable.

A knock on your door pulled you from your slumber, the first couple times had made their way into your dream, you get up and open the door to the ghouls and ghoulettes standing in the hall, a few smiles making their way on a few faces, and thats when you realize youre not wearing your mask or muzzle, heat rushing to your ears and cheeks causing your cool grey skin to tint purple, hanging your head in embarrassment while rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, "were sorry to wake you but were meeting early today because papa has a meeting with the clergy and after lessons and practice mix we have the rest of the day off", nodding you return into your room to get changed and to put on your muzzle and mask, the group waiting outside of your room for you to walk with them.

Lessons and practice going by quickly you find yourself in the library,helmet off, curled up and tucked into one of the couches reading another fairy-tale, looking intently at the pictures, your eyes irritated from not getting all of the sleep you normally get, theyre slowly drifting shut, you can only stay awake so much longer before your mind takes you to a rem sleep.

Waking up to mountain shaking you awake he smiles gently, "hey sleepy head, i was looking for you, its lunch time but it seems as though youre tired, we'll get you to your room and ill bring lunch to you there" he was a gentle giant ghoul and although you haven't said anything to anyone youre starting to warm up to him, he puts a book mark in the book and helps you up handing you your mask, you decide to just carry it with you.

Opening your door he hands you the book and you set it down atop your bed along with your mask, "do you want me to knock when i come back?" Thinking for a moment and shaking your head 'no' you'll probably just be asleep again, taking off the muzzle you set it with your mask getting ontop of your empty bed you curl up waiting while slightly dozing.

When he returns he walks in with your plate in hand, "wheres you stuff bud? Did they move you into an unready room?" You once more shake your head, pulling up the bedsheet curtain putting your nest on display, "aaah a safe spot, i completely understand, im here if you need anything, just holler my way" he kids while stepping out.

"Can you- stay?" You mutter through a slightly broken voice, catching him off guard, youre not sure why you asked but he seems easy to open up to, hes kinda like you.

"Id be honored"

You sat there mostly quiet eating but occasionally you'd respond and every time he would be looking elsewhere but the smile on his face said he was paying attention.

The more you got to know him the more you realized youre very similar to him.

《~♡~》

The next couple weeks youd spend lunch with him sharing stories while you sat in your nest and him at your desk, he talked about how fond the ghouls and ghoulettes and even the papas were of you, they all looked forward to you hopefully someday talk full sentences with them but for now with you slowly coming out of your shell, wearing your mask and muzzle less often and spending more time somewhat near the group, for now they were content watching you grow and become more of yourself.

You gave each person a sketch youd do of them from observation and mountain even brought you another sketchbook when he noticed you were running low on pages, you told him why youve been scared to come out of your room and your past experience with your previous summoning, you however didn't tell him why it failed but he understood itll take some time.

《~♡~》

One evening after another one of your delicious meals you were invited to watch a movie with everyone, accepting the offer you show up in your hoodie you just recently bought and pajama pants, socks with sticky tabs on the bottom so you didn't slip on the marble floors, you balled yourself up in a beanbag chair, others had grabbed pillows or stuffed animals from the pile in the corner, you go over to look through the pile, pulling out a well loved multi-textured dog plush, smiling and taking it over to your spot with you, focused on the textures, "very good choice little wisp" mountain hummed, your tail thumping against the bean bag chair, your cheeks and ears dusted purple once more, "i haven't held one since i was very small" you return.

After the movie you gave the plush one last hug before placing it atop the pile, "you know if you want you can take it to your room with you, we have them here for everyone" he encouraged but you shook your head, "he would miss his friends and i dont want to take someone elses opportunity of loving him away", little did you know the ghouls left in the room all felt their hearts melt, this wasnt new to them, theyve met ghouls and people whose minds are permanently part kit, they wouldn't say anything until you said something first, youre part of the family, you deserve to do it on your own terms.

Just the next evening when you returned from the library you come to find a black gift

Bag infront of your door with a tag that has your name on it.

Entering your room you set everything down before you open the bag, youre met with a soft multi-texture plush almost identical to the one from the other night but this one had weighted feet,and a book of several fairy-tales with a few purple tabs on certain pages along with it. A card that says, "a plush specifically for you and your love, i hope you give him a wonderful name, and a book my mother read to me when i was just a kit, one that you dont have to take back to the library"

Holding the plush out infront to look at him your headspace slipping quickly, thankfully you were in the safety of your bedroom and he would fit perfectly into your nest with you.

With plenty of time between now and dinner time, your chores being done and someone else being on dinner duty you took right now to relax.

in comfortable clothes you lay down in your nest with your book and the stuffy you named chip cause he reminded you of chocolate chip cookies, you named him late at night when you were feeling very small and it just stuck.

Closing your eyes when the words in the book were adding to the strain, from all the light today, hunger pulling a whine from you, if you slept for now youd wake up at the perfect time to eat dinner, you might even sit with rain and talk about the books youve read recently outside of the fairy-tales.

Being pulled out of your dreams by someone gently shaking you awake and calling your name, confusion built it way to your face, he doesn't need to knock but normally he chooses to, what brought him in?

"I know youre sleepy but its dinner time and i know you like your routine,  i tried knocking but you were out cold" he states after reading your scrunched and slightly confused face, handing you your bowl, tonight cirrus and swiss made dinner together.

Mountain sits on the floor across from you as you both ate in a comfortable silence, thats one thing about him, he tries to make sure hes not being a trigger for anyone with misophonia.

Eating slowly and running your hand along the textures of your stuffy, "s'named chip" you just barely say aloud, causing him to smile, "thats the most perfect name for him, does he give the best of cuddles?" Nodding youre completely unaware of the fact hes talking to you as if you were a kit, he was just being kind and attentive for all you knew, and while yes thats completely true he also saw through your silence, hes talked to semi-permanent kit-minded ghouls and he knew it was for safety of mind.

Both of you done with dinner, you pull out your sketchbook as he gets up to take the dishes to the kitchen, standing in the doorway looking down at you with a smile upon his face, "do you want me to come back after i put the dishes in the kitchen?" Watching as you ponder for a moment before nodding, looking up at him, never once more than now have you longed for physical contact with someone but you little mind craves it.

He returned quickly to see you moving your nest about, your movements less exact and a little choppy, he could see the irritation when the blankets wouldn't flatten out so he got down to help, fixing it for you he sat back on his knees when you planted yourself down closer to the wall than normal, you pat the spot next to you while holding chip close to your chest.

"You want me to cuddle little wisp?" He questioned already taking his jacket off before you hummed in response.

Cuddling was very common amongst ghouls so there was no questions asked as to why

It was naturally so second nature for most.

Curling into him he holds you close, your head resting on his chest, you could just fall asleep right now but you fought that instinct so you could savor a moment of feeling completely safe, where youre not being overstimulated.

"When i was first summoned i read those exact same books on ghouls with neurodivergencies, i remember reading that someone with a mind like the one both of us have can easily struggle in public environments or around new people"

He retold, causing you to question how he knew you read them.

"Oh wisp, i can hear just how stirring you mind can be, i saw you walking back to the library to return them, i want you to know that you are safe here with me and all of the others, im honored to cuddle, i didn't join a ghoul-pile until several months of being here."

Nodding to yourself, taking a moment to process his words when your own  join the party.

"Jus cant do touch with others almost ever, makes brain hurt and than hurts me aswell"

Your eyes started to sleepily flutterand he picks up the fairy-tales book he brought you, opening it up to one of the purple tabs, some of his favorites.

He read you to sleep, when his pants were starting to put deep seam imprints  into his legs causing him discomfort, he goes to leave the room but is stopped by you plea for him to stay, "ill be right back little mouse."

And like promised he did return in much more comfortable clothes, a blanket and a comfort item of his own, cuddling back up with you halfway ontop of him, covering the both of you with his blanket, setting your temporarily forgotten of stuffie in the corner above your head along with his.

《~♡~》

From than forward you and mountain spent Friday nights in your room reading and cuddling, going to lessons and practice together, he was helping you open up, when it would be your night to make dinner, which you had requested to have more than once a week instead of sink duty because soggy wet hands felt offensive to your skin, he would sit at the island watching unless one of his chores intercepted that period of time or if another ghoul requested his company.

It took five months to ease you out of you shell, at four you had brought up the regression and neurodivergency topics to the others and than out of fear you hid in your room for the weekend until dew stopped by inviting you to watch a movie with the others which you happily obliged to do so, remembering that its okay to be around others and be yourself, that night you sat on the couch behind the ghoul-pile falling asleep with chip in your arms, your tail intertwined with mountains.

Not wearing your mask unless you needed a break or everyone else was, copia had taken you aside at one point to find fabrics that looked like the others but were sensory safe so when it was time for uniforms you would feel comfortable.

At night you would go out to the garden in secret and jump around, spin, stomp, trill, chirp, coo and so much more. It helped tremendously.

《~♡~》

Tonight unlike the others was much louder in your head and harder to feel okay, already regressed you tried stomping around and flailing your hands but without meaning to you were once more pulling on your tail and scratching it painful and raw, the garden was closed for the night with new fertilizer being put down, taking chip you trail your way down to one of the last rooms, the shiny name plate reading 'mountain' you gave a slightly too heavy knock on the door, rocking back and forth on your feet, he answers and is suprised to see you standing there with deep grey tear tracks down your face, chip under your arm and your tail in hand scratching as you fumble with your words.

Letting you in he pats the bed for you to sit down while he turns on the light and pulls a shirt on over your head, sniffles and hiccups break your silence, he take your hands and holds them for a moment, watching the spade of your tail drop small dots of blood onto the marble floor, "come with me little wisp, its okay" he leads you to the bathroom, picking you up and setting you on the counter, lifting his tail for you to hold on, he knew full well you wouldn't scratch his, tracing the scars on his tail had you questioning if he did the same.

As he took hydrogen peroxide cleaning the small cuts and scrapes pulling a hiss from you in reaction, "i know hun, im sorry ive got to be mean and clean it but weve got to take care of it so it doesn't get icky ya-know?" He soothes, "you see the ones on my tail, theyre from the same thing, sometimes i almost start scratching at them again but i normally just hold my tail and put lotion on the scars to feel like im cleaning it up once more"

Once hes done patching you up he once again takes your hands leading you to his bed and looking through his closet. His room was well decorated and filled, a queen sized pillow top mattress and black wooden four poster bed frame against the wall, he had a collection of old trinkets including a camera that takes film, your father used to have one, several gas masks, a homophone record player. On the wall above his desk was a cork board coverd in the drawing youd given him, small trinkets littler his desk, before you could look further he brings over a box of similar small trinkets setting them infront of you.

"You can dump the box out if you want, find whatever works best, i have plenty more" dumping them out you turn the box upside down organizing them, finding three, liking them the most you put the duplicates of them and all the others away back in the box holding onto the three youd picked out, he puts the box under his bed, seating himself next to you, leaning into his side as he turns on one of the movies you'd taken interest in, "hey wisp can i hold chip?", nodding against his chest, paying deep attention to his heartbeat how slow and rhythmic, tapping your tail against the bed in the same beats, occasionally humming and trilling, his left hand running up and down your back, occasionally running though your hair gently.

"Youre gonna be okay little mouse, ive got you".

《~♡~》

Your first ghoul pile was something very special, stuffies piled everywhere, they all had banded together to make the room perfect for your comfort, your favorite music playing in the background, dew and sunshine had found you in the library quietly crying flicking around one of the fidgets mountain gave you

Humming and rocking back and forth, chip sitting ontop of your tail, you couldn't find mountain and you didn't want to taint the energy of your nest. Sunshine sat with you as dew went to find mountain, she lifted chip for a moment, carefully intertwining her tail with yours setting chip on your tails.

Dew returned around 10 minutes late with a smile upon his face, taking your open hand with sunshine carrying chip, they took you through the abbey to the lounge where the blanket, stuffy and pillow pile was spread across the floor, mountain and all the other were waiting, some of them already cuddled up, and others walking around, drawing the curtains and dimming lights, filling up a cooler to keep near the pile, mountain lead you to the group, curling himself around you with chip between the two of you, sunshine still connected to you laying back to back with you.

The first time being so close to the others all together and for once your brain lets it happen, youre not sure whose hand is running through your hair but it causes you to chirp, nuzzling you head into the hand.

Swiss tapping his forehead against yours, "youre welcome to stay as long as you need, this is your pile."

Theyre all so much more calm and centered on one another when theyre cuddled, with the warmth from all of the bodies it made it very easy to slip into a smaller headspace.

Cirrus reaching over mountain to wipe away the tear tracks with a wet cloth, they already had a feeling youd be disoriented with the news of the tour starting at the end of this month and the arrival of the outfits.

Cooing and trilling, others trilling back made you excitedly laugh.

《~♡~》

Youve been attached to at least one ghoul at all times, they knew you liked holding tails until you had to use your charm to pass as human, copia gave you a hug before he headed out first.

This was the first time youve seen mountain wear shoes, it looked as abnormal as it felt to not have a tail.

Standing in your place when papa introduces the band, not paying attention to him but instead the piece in your ear counting down til the lights cut off and mountain and dew are counted in, mountain looks to you taking an exasperated deep breath telling you to take one aswell, feeling the lights go out and the beat of mounts drums through the floor, counting the cymbal crashes and its time for you to join in, as soon as your hands start moving, you feel it, absolute euphoria, youre radioactive with energy,  the fans going wild, youre practically thrashing as you play, prancing around and jumping when youve got time to spare you run up front adding flair and showmanship to the ceremony, interacting with the others.

By the end youre absolutely drained, enough energy to hop about and screech getting rid of the last bit of energy, if all of the tour is like this youre gonna have an absolute blast, mountain hands you a couple drumsticks for you to throw after taking a bow, and than perching yourself in 'frog crouch' on mountains riser next to his drums watching everyone go about their ending routines, people throwing stuff on stage, bracelets and flags to hand made gothic style stuffed animals, the ghouls picking some stuff up to look at em, handing them to the designated ghouls if there was a name and handing the rest to anyone else like yourself, the ghoulettes and even papa, swiss picked up a couple hand made stuffed animals bringing them to sit next to you.

When it was time to leave the stage mountain came over opening his arms, you lean forward wrapping your arms around his shoulders and he sets you down on you feet, grabbing the teddy's leaning into his side, hes completely drenched in sweat but so are you, it was practically a work out so it was worth it.

In the van having let down the human charm you wash up and slip into pajamas, the stuffies and bracelets set in your bunk you stare out the window waiting flicking your fidget around, Cumulus walks by stopping to give you a hug, "you did great wisp, your energy was so contagious. ", nodding and tapping your forehead against hers in a silent communication, you were absolutely exhausted.

As soon as mountain is out of the shower you push yourself into his chest, finally time to rest, and with your favorite ghoul no doubt,  he hands you chip, folding into one another he holds you gently, as he pulls out the fairy tale he reads your favorites in the book, looking down when youre not humming out your regular vocal stims he realizes youve fallen asleep with your head on his chest, his hands running up and down your spine, tail occasionally thumping against the bed followed by nuzzling against him, "sleep well little wisp, you were so radiant tonight.

《~♡~》

Your room at the church of sin was finally decorated, still sleeping in your nest, the ghouls helped you assemble a proper loft bed with the mattress from your previous bed as part of the nest below, stuffies from the tour everywhere and bracelets hung on a set of racks to display them, posters scatterd on your walls, some plushies piled on the top matteress but keeping that open for the most part if someone wants to hang out. A bookshelf full of normal books and fairy-tales,  a starry curtain over your window with a matching opposite one around your nest. Chip in his spot as always hes constantly waiting for your cuddles.

Drawings of both your own and others, many interpretation of what fans saw you as, they call you gargoyle, but to the ghouls youre just a little wisp or little mouse, you were your most accurate self, you were finally at home.

(Accidentally posted the unfixed version, sorry bout that)

[gravehags]

the undone and the divine

Pairing: Swiss x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: virgin reader, first time, PinV sex, oral sex (f! receiving), hand action, ghouls being ghouls

Words: 2,962

Summary: You told him he could make it up to you. So he does.

a/n: sequel to my previous story heaven in hiding so go check that out before you get into this! basically i just think being a ghoul consort would cure me, personally. ghoul bicycle, if you will. ANYWAY.

~~~

You’ve never been in the ghoul den before.

Swiss has you by the hand, gently leading you down a hallway lined with doors until he finally stops at the second one from the end. It’s unlocked as he opens it and ushers you quietly inside. It’s small, but ultimately very cozy. A large bed sits in the center, dark covers hastily made. On the floor to the side stand his guitars. Stacks of books are piled throughout the space, their titles mostly obscured in the dim light coming from his bedside table. The space is so thoroughly Swiss you can’t help but smile despite the nervousness bubbling in your belly. When you finally turn to him, he looks almost as anxious as you do. His eyes dart from yours to the bed and back to you, and he twists his hands as if he’s holding himself back from something.

“I like your room,” you finally say, breaking the silence. “It suits you.”

He laughs a little and rubs the back of his neck. When you take a step towards him, hand extended, he steps backwards slightly.

“We don’t have to do this,” he blurts out. Your little smile fades and your stomach drops.

“Oh,” you say dumbly, kicking yourself. “I’m sorry I thought…because we…um. Nevermind. I’ll just go.”

Cheeks aflame you begin to head towards the door, achingly embarrassed at your presumption. How stupid, you thought. How naive.

Your hand is on the knob when he comes at you from behind, spinning your shoulders and pinning you to the door. The breath is knocked from your lungs as he holds you there, mirroring the position the two of you had earlier in the cloister. You’re shaking like a leaf when he lets out something between a laugh and a sigh.

“You really think I’m going to let you go now?” he finally breathes, fluttering the hairs on the side of your head. As soon as you move your gaze from his chest to his face, you exhale shakily. His pupils are blown and you know yours are too as he leans down to ghost his lips over yours.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Say you want me to stop and I will.”

When he pulls back finally, he cups your cheeks in his palms, tilting your face up.

“I want this,” you whisper, and his knees buckle slightly. “Swiss, I want you.”

His lips are on yours milliseconds after the words leave your mouth, cradling your head in his large palms even as he guides you away from the door. Suddenly, his hands are everywhere - on your shoulder blades, your hips, molding themselves to the curve of your ass. You trip as he continues backing you to the foot of his bed, causing the two of you to laugh into each other’s mouths. Your fist is beginning to ache from how tightly you are holding the front of his shirt, as if you are afraid he’s going to vanish into thin air. His tongue slides against yours as he frets at the hem of your shirt, desperate to reach skin. When you finally part to catch your breath, he’s looming over your half-reclined body with a knee between your legs, tail twitching behind him. Hands trembling, you reach for the buttons on his shirt and begin working them undone as he presses his lips to your forehead. When you stumble, he places his hands over yours to guide you in finishing the job, finally removing the black garment from his broad shoulders. In turn, he tugs at the edge of your shirt, pulling it gently over your head and throwing it aside. When his hands slide over your sides, finally making contact with your skin you both sigh.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Swiss groans as he reaches for your bra clasp. “No fucking idea.”

“You should have told me,” you pant as he slides your bra off and gently urges you back against the covers.

“Didn’t want to scare you off.” The look in his eyes darkens as he takes in your bare breasts, and involuntarily your arms move in a desire to cover yourself up.

“Don’t,” he says softly, placing a large hand on your sternum. “Please don’t hide from me.”

When he finally shifts to cup your breast in his hand, you whine. He brushes his thumb over your hardened nipple and you feel his cock kick in his pants against your leg.

“You like this?” he says with a gentle grin, repeating the motion, to which your hips buck. His smile turns dark as he lowers his mouth to you, lips brushing the underside of your breast. You know you’re making embarrassing noises by the time his mouth latches onto your nipple and his hips rut against you as he sucks. Head falling back you slide your hand into the dark curls on his head and scratch at his scalp, making him moan against your skin. When he pulls away you whine and he laughs, his warm breath dancing over you.

“So needy, huh? I’ve barely even touched you and you want it that bad.”

“You’re one to talk,” you frown, pushing him away slightly, “what was all that in the hallway, huh?”

He hums deep in his throat, nearly a purr, before taking your nipple between his clawed thumb and forefinger and pinching. Your yelp is cut off by his laughter as he slides his hands down your sides to the waistline of your pants. He’s eye level with the button of your jeans, and your cheeks flush deeper than you had thought possible. You’re watching him like a hawk as he unbuttons them and slowly slides the zipper down. He’s grinning when he places a sweet kiss to your belly as he scooches the garment off your hips and down your thighs. When they’re off and abandoned on the ground next to him, you once again fight the desire to hide yourself from his gaze. Swiss notices the way your hands twitch in discomfort and, his smile softening, he brings both of them to his lips. One by one he kisses the knuckles of both your hands and you watch him, half-sitting up.

“You okay?” he asks, all levity gone from his voice.

“Yeah,” your voice cracks when you say it, making you writhe with embarrassment. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

He cocks his head and rests his chin on your belly, gazing up at you with a look so adoring it makes your heart skip a beat.

“You’re okay, babygirl,” he says, fingers stroking your sides soothingly. He presses another kiss to the soft skin of your stomach. “I got you.”

You must have hesitated with your nod, because he’s gripping your hips firmly and looking at you intently.

“Do you trust me? Tell me.”

You take a deep breath and look him squarely in the eyes. Placing your hands over his, you smile sincerely.

“I trust you, Swiss. I’m just nervous but…I trust you.”

He nods, maintaining eye contact as he slips your underwear down your hips, exposing all of you to him. If you thought you were flushed before you were positively glowing now. He lowers his lips to brush your mons and you sigh contentedly.

“Swiss,” you breathe as he presses feather-light kisses at the juncture of your legs. “I need you. Please.”

He groans from between your legs, claws gripping into the meat of your thighs and tail thrashing behind him. When he gently spreads you open and licks the length of your slit, you cry out, hips bucking. He does it again, and again, and your hand flies to the base of his horns and grips.

“Soaked for me,” he growls in between licks, “fucking drenched.”

You nod desperately, watching as he teases your clit with the tip of his tongue. He’s gripping at you tight enough to draw blood but when he slides his tongue inside you and his nose bumps at your clit, you find you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s lapping at you like a man dying of thirst, licking at your wetness desperately. His lips wrap around your clit and when he ever-so-slightly sucks, your back arches off the bed. He’s holding you down with his firm grip, grunting into your cunt as he devours you.

“Swiss, please. I’m gonna–I’m so close–”

He pulls away, mouth making an obscenely wet noise, and gives you a grin full of sharp teeth.

“Not yet you’re not.”

When he leans back and straightens his body, you look up at him dazed. You’re about to protest when you see him move his hands to the button and zipper of his jeans. Sitting up slightly on your elbows, you watch as he slides his pants and underwear down his legs and disposes of them.

Oh.

You’ve forgotten that you’ve felt the length of him before, mere hours ago in the empty cloister. All of a sudden he looks huge to your eyes, much larger than he felt through the denim of his pants. He’s achingly hard, precum beading at the top of his flushed cock and dripping down onto the duvet. You are filled with the sudden, desperate need to touch him. When he slides back up your body, cock grazing the heat of you, you reach down to brush at him. As soon as the palm of your hand makes contact with his heated flesh, his hips jerk. You want so badly to make him feel good again, to hear him sound so desperate against you once more. Sensing your desire, he gently takes your hand and wraps it around him, adjusting your grip to suit him. Slowly, he guides your hand to stroke him, and you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Once he sets the pace, his hand falls away, leaving you to your task. He looks gorgeous like this, nude and hunched over you, fucking himself into your fist.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes with a broken off moan, “you’re doing so good. So good for me.”

Just as you had done back in the hallway, you swiped your thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the precum over the reddened flesh. He grits his teeth and bucks into you with a growl, so you do it again. The way your cunt clenches around nothing at the noises he is making makes you feel lightheaded. Addicted. You don’t realize you’re doing it, but your hand is moving faster over him now. He continues to rut into your hand until he pulls away with a choked gasp.

Oh. You’ve fucked up haven’t you?

“I’m sor–”

All of a sudden his head tips back with thunderous, exaltant laughter. You’re looking up at him, eyes glazed over with lust and puzzlement, and he brings his lips to yours. The kiss is rough, passionate, sloppy. His hand is in your hair, pulling, exposing your neck to him. He’s almost vicious as you feel him nip at your skin and soothe the bites with languorous swipes of his tongue. His cock rests against your belly, hard and weeping more than ever, as he continues to mark you. When your legs begin to wrap around him, he finally pulls back, panting as he looks down at you.

“What was all that about?” you query, chest heaving.

“Have to let the others know,” he says, grin sly and toothy, “I had you first.”

The implication that the other ghouls would be having a turn with you makes your stomach swoop with anticipation but before you can even fully process the thought, Swiss is leaning back to drag his cock through your folds. Your hips twitch desperately every time the head brushes your clit, and he seems content to watch you writhe beneath him.

“Swiss,” you whine, “Please. Please.”

“Sound so good when you beg,” he smirks, bumping his cock against your clit once more. He’s riling you up on purpose, so you indulge him.

“Could have said the same thing about you earlier,” you playfully snarl. “Or did I just imagine you cumming in your jeans for me?”

He laughs loudly again, leaning back down to cage you with his arms. With impossible softness, he leans down and kisses you. It’s a sweet thing, full of longing, and your heart swells. When he rests his forehead against yours, you reach up to stroke at the stubble on his cheek.

“You ready?” he asks quietly, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Yeah,” you say simply, kissing him swiftly again.

When he reaches down between your bodies, you get that swooping sensation in your stomach once more. Gently parting you, he lines himself up and looks you in the eyes. Slowly, achingly slowly, he pushes into you. You feel your body tense up and your cheeks flush, and all of a sudden he’s in your ear.

“I got you,” he whispers as he sinks further into you. You can’t lie, the stretch does pain you but it does not override your desire. When he’s fully seated inside of you, you exhale the breath you are holding, and he stills. You take several deep breaths as he waits for your command.

“Please, Swiss. Please move.”

So he does. Slowly he withdraws from you and slowly he pushes back in, until the sharp ache between your legs fades away and nothing but pleasure remains. He feels so good, makes you feel so full and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in to tell him so.

“Love how you fill me up,” you breathe in his ear as he ruts a little faster, a little deeper into you. When his hands slide up your arms to hold you down to the bed, your cunt clenches and makes him moan wildly.

“So sweet for me,” he pants as he continues to fuck you. “So perfect.”

You keen at his praise and flex your hands under his grip, desperate to touch him. He, however, is still content to hold you down as he takes you with steady thrusts and watches you arch and writhe beneath him. Your moans are getting louder and more desperate with every drag of his cock and his claws bite into your wrists. His steady pace is slowly becoming more and more frantic, more and more sloppy as you continue to clench around him, making him cry out.

“Fuck, baby,” he keens, “that’s it. Don’t fucking stop.”

The spot he’s hitting as he fucks you with almost animalistic passion makes stars dance across your vision. You’re trying to focus on what he’s asked of you, but the ferocity of his thrusts is fucking all knowledge and sense out of your head. When you whine his name he slams his lips into yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing the sweet noises coming out of your mouth. He bites down on your lower lip, and your hips buck in a desperate attempt to bring him deeper within you. Relinquishing his grip on one of your wrists, he slides his hand down to where you are joined and swipes his thumb over your clit. You cry out against his mouth and he does it again, making tight circles around the swollen bud. 

“Swiss…Swiss please, I’m so close,” you moan. 

“I know you are,” he replies with a particularly deep thrust, “I can smell it,”

The knowledge that Swiss can anticipate your orgasm slides right off your brain when the moment washes over you. Your hips are bucking into his frantically as your back arches off the bed and you cry out. Swiss continues to fuck you with even more fervor, desperately chasing his end as your reach yours. You know you’re babbling incoherently at him - words of praise, words of damnation - but through the pleasure you can’t bring yourself to care. Your body feels electric, powerful as you reach your peak. The haze of hedonism slowly begins to wane, but Swiss is still pumping into you at a furious pace. When you lazily clench around him once, twice, thrice he spills inside you with a shout, hips continuing to move even after he has emptied himself. When he frees his grip on your hands, you flex your fingers before moving to cup his cheek. He pulls out of you to roll onto his back and you gasp, his seed sliding down your cunt to pool on the bed covers. A moment of silence reigns as you both catch your breath, chests heaving. Finally, you roll onto your side and scooch next to the multi-ghoul, resting your palm on his chest. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you in closer so that your exhales ghost against his neck.

“And how was your first time?” he asks, hand idly stroking your hair.

“Eh. Not bad, I guess.”

You smile at the pout and furrowed brow that graces his handsome features even as he pulls at your hair childishly.

“Take that back,” he growls, fist tightening in your locks.

“Okay, okay! You were divine, O Wondrous Ghoul. Stunning performance. Definitely leaving a good Yelp review.”

When he rolls his eyes and smiles, you grin sweetly up at him before placing a kiss on his jaw. 

“Thank you,” you say softly and more seriously.

“It was an honor,” he murmurs back. “You gave me a beautiful gift, sister.”

The two of you fall into a content silence and soon, the steady thump of his heartbeat sends you drifting off to sleep. Before your eyes shut, you smile at the thought you have.

He did make it up to you, in the end.

[honey-tongued-devil]

Ghouls' Dinner

A quick drawing of Rain x reader/sister of sin. I think by now my passion for men on their knees has been noticed, and I'm not here to deny myself. Just experimenting with some new styles.

[ghuleh-recs]

*holding my hands out like a poor british boy* please mu'um....may i have some phantom x f!readers......

hell yes you may, anon. you are speaking my language. recs under the cut: eat up.

some know it lovingly - @gravehags - 2.6k

What a sweetheart that Phantom is. But you know all too well what sweetness can hide.

Space Between - @high-imperatrix - 34.6k (part 4 of Slow Burn)

Ghost heads out on tour—without Aether—and everything falls apart after a rough night on stage. Dew withdraws into the ghoul pack, leaving you feeling sad, lonely, and confused. You find comfort in the company of someone else who's been feeling excluded—the new quintessence ghoul, Phantom. Can you get your relationship with Dew back on track and get to the bottom of his big feelings about Aether while also navigating your increasingly-more-close friendship with the new guy?

untitled ficlet - @sentientgolfball - 2.9k

As you turned to leave you made eye contact with one of the ghouls at the dock and immediately recognized him as the new quintessence ghoul. Phantom. Oh the look on his face was priceless. He was completely frozen in place staring at you as you walked past, slack jawed, eyes roaming over your body. His cheeks were dusted a deep plum color and you would bet money that it’s not from the heat. * more of their x phantom fics here because they're ALL great.

Phantom Club (series) - @kissingghouls - 5.1k

A collection of little stories about Phantom and You.

[cupfullofpapas]

(Yes I'm reusing this image too busy to doodle a new one :''( life has been super crazy as of late ) Second Vol in The Assistant series: In the arms of a Devil Rated: E F/M Cardinal Copia x F!Reader Papa Emeritus IV x F!Reader

Also read it on my Ao3 here Previous Vol. : The Assistant Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6: Scent Your patience was nearing its end as you stood by the window looking over the ministries garden watching your fellow siblings of sin some tending to the gardens, some sitting below the few trees that offered an abundance of shade, the weather had decided to act right for once and allowed everyone a day outside, you however, decided to stay indoors. 

As much as you tried to convince yourself that things were okie dokie they weren't, you missed Copia like hell and your chest ached from it, well it was either that or allergies or perhaps both. You've considered talking to Gemma,  the only Prime mover you knew of who had been with her Papa during his touring era.

Each time you went to talk to her you gave yourself excuses not to bother her those excuses now becoming ridiculous. 

With everyone outside enjoying the sunny day the Abbey was quiet so you chose to sit in the cafeteria once the walls of your dorm room started to get to you feeling as if they were closing in. Sitting down at one of the many tables with a muffin you had gotten from the kitchen, picking little pieces off of it like an overgrown crab. 

Sweet Satan, you felt weird, you never thought you could miss someone this much you didn't even miss Secondo this much when he was out of the office for a long period of time... pausing you frowned, with all that had happened that sounded pretty harsh, being lost in thought you plucked another piece of the muffin popping it into your mouth followed by another.

"Child what's got you down in the dumps?."

The sudden voice made you jump looking up to see Sister Twist looking down at you her hands on her hips concern written all over her face. "Satanas, Twist don't spook me like that."  The redhead only shrugged before sitting in the chair across from you the thing giving a slight whine. 

"I forgot how cheesy these things were, you'd think with how much Imperator bitches about the budget and cash there would be a stockpile for new cafeteria chairs at least, things look like they're from the fuckin sixties" Twist snickered however when she didn't hear you join in either laughing or ragging on Imperator she knew something was on your mind. 

"Hey."  Twist snapped her fingers a few times getting your attention.  "Talk to me, what's eating at you, and don't say nothing 'cause momma Twist knows."   You rolled your eyes before answering.  "Just with the tour and all and.."  You trailed off looking for the right words. "You miss your man". Your cheeks turned a light shade of red nodding adverting your eyes from the older sister of sin.

"You miss Copia and you feel weird for missing him so much because you've never missed or depended on someone else who wasn't blood-related that and you feel like your heart is being ripped out through your rib cage."  You opened your mouth to speak however Twist held up her hand silencing you. 

"And even though you still talk to him on the phone or text it feels like it's not enough and yadda yadda."  You stayed silent staring at her before uttering a little 'fuck you' which made the older sibling laugh.   "There's nothing wrong with feeling this way, it's natural to feel this way when you miss someone you love."  

Love, you did love him right?, you remembered the day you told Secondo that you loved him back when he declared his love for you the thought put an uneasy pit in your stomach which caused you to push the muffin aside, why were you even asking yourself this?, you just had teenage phone sex last night with the man. You felt a hand rest on your shoulder Twist wore a kind smile.  "You'll know the answer when he comes back, sweetie."  You smiled and rested your hand above hers the moment was short-lived as Lenti came running into the cafeteria. 

"Twist! Omega, Divine, Alpha, and Terzo are fucking in the music room again!."   "Oh for the love of sweet Satan, those fuckers are gonna get a boot up their ass."   "Careful they might like that." You chimed in as Twist pushed the chair in heading to the music room complaining the entire way, the last time those four got into it in the music room Pebble's drumset was a casualty and Sister Imperator was furious about having to buy a whole new set for the ghoul. The sound of something hitting the floor and the yelling of Imperator's voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You daft idiots!, Be careful with this equipment it's very important and very expensive!."  Getting up from your seat you wandered over to the door seeing that the ghouls were moving a bunch of medical equipment, was someone sick?

"Sister?." you asked stepping from the cafeteria, Imperator turned quickly to face you a smile coming to her face her demeanor changing quickly.  "Hello dear." "What's all this?." "It is for Papa Nihil when he gets back from tour with Cardi, don't you worry about it I have everything under control" She offered the fakest of smiles before following the ghouls walking away her red heels clicking and clacking on the floor. 

The 'short time apart' felt more like years apart the only good thing that happened in your opinion was that Sister Imperator had given you the option of going back to your old dorm room or staying in the current one alongside Copia given the fact that you two were an item, you of course chose to stay in the shared room one because you did not feel like packing everything up and two once Copia got back you were going to stick to him like glue. 

Your day off finally came, the day when you could just lay around your dorm room and not have to worry about anything other than flopping your face into Copia's pillow and breathing in the fleeting scent you hadn't even bothered to change out of your pajamas.

 Rolling over in bed you went face-first into the soft depths of your Cardinal's pillow breathing in-- it was then that you realized that his scent was gone from the fabric, you started to think, what could you do? you needed his scent you needed to feel as if he was there, the worry was starting to set in, and then it hit you.. but were you that desperate?

.....Yes, yes you were...

 Scooting closer to the edge of his side of the bed you opened the nightstand digging around in the drawer. Sometimes the lack of organization of his personal items got to you and made you want to shake him but on the other hand, it also gave you things to do. While you were on your search you looked at some of the things he had tucked away in there. 

A list of numbers, a few unopened juice boxes, several pens, pictures, loose change, and receipts however it wasn't just any receipts they were from the couple nights you and him half-assedly eloped there was even one from the gas station. A smile had worked its way to your face as you looked over each one recounting each item there was also a list there in his scratchy handwriting of things you liked and didn't like, your smile only grew wider as your fingers slid over the indented paper following the pen marks the Chinese menu you both had ordered from. 

You remembered when you accidentally launched a shrimp at the television screen that night, the memory earned a quiet laugh, putting the items back you were on the move again until your searching fingers finally found what you were looking for.

Closing the nightstand's drawer you sat up holding a bottle, it was Copia's cologne your thumb ran over the elegant lettering feeling the different textures on the label, after mentally telling yourself how crazy and weird you were several small sprays were sprayed onto his pillow and one on yourself.

The bottle was placed back inside the nightstand drawer, and the pillow now damp with the scent was turned over the damp side against the bed sheet once again you flopped face-first into it this time being hit with the strong scent of your man. You felt your whole body tingle and warm up as soon as you breathed in his scent your skin prickling with goosebumps, it made you giddy picturing Copia there with you tangled up in the blankets enjoying your time together. 

It was weird sometimes, how a simple scent could make a body heat up, your thighs squeezed together dulling the throb that started as soon as his scent filled your nostrils, your mind thinking about those hands of his and the way they felt when he slid them along your body and gripped your soft flesh the smooth of the leather.   Your hand has started to trace the patterns on your body picturing that they were his fingers, his palms, and you were a willing victim under his expert touches, your Cardinals name was whispered past your lips as your fingertips came to the swell of your pussy lips.

You could picture him there staring down at you, kissing you his fingers teasing you driving you wild, his tongue swirling with yours in the timeless dance of love. You were about to sink your fingers inside of yourself when there was a knock at the door making you halt your actions and look up. Rolling your eyes you stayed quiet maybe if you didn't make a sound whoever it was would just go away thinking that you weren't home, you thought it had worked but there the knocking was again, flopping your pillow over your face you groaned into it before getting up washing your hands and answering the door.  Unlocking the handle and deadbolt you opened the door being face to face with Sister Imperator once again at this point you almost swore this woman was stalking you. 

"Sister?."  You asked doing your best not to sound annoyed. "Evening, I have some-- unfortunate news for you."  -------------------------------------------- TAG LIST: Please message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! @thesoundresoundsecho @xpapaemeritus @copiasprincipessa @siouxbauhaus

[creeps-writes-creepypastas]

So like- shitty mental health 'n all, I'll get to requests soon though, bear with me- but I have another fic- two actually, ones for the band ghost

and one for undertale

So enjoy and take a read if you must

[ghoulphile]

janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 3.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --” ➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠 there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself mostly un-beta'd atm a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!

feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist

Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.

One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.

Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.

It’d be easier if they were.

Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.

Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.

Then came the separation.

Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.

And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.

See, war’s something he understands.

But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?

How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?

When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?

He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.

Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.

The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.

Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.

Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.

But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.

See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.

Hell, millions used to scream his name.

Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”

While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.

It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.

Something’s gotta give.

After all, he’s only one man.

But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.

A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.

At first, he kept his distance.

Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.

Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.

Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.

Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.

Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.

So what if he takes himself in hand after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?

Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?

Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?

What you don’t know can’t hurt you.

After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.

“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”

Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.

“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”

A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”

Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"

“Mnhfmmmm.”

“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”

Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”

Shit.

“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”

Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.

Together they settle with a bounce of springs.

In the open space, you slide in.

The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.

“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”

“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”

“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”

Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.

You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.

“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”

Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.

“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”

“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”

Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.

“... Then pancakes it is.”

As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”

“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”

“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”

“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”

She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears. 

Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.

“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.

“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”

The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.

After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.

“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”

The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.

A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.

Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.

“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”

Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.

The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.

Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.

When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.

You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.

Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.

Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.

After all, he’s not yours to touch.

Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”

Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”

Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood. 

“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”

He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.

God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.

Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.

“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”

Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.

“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.

Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.

“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.

Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.

The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.

“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”

“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”

Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”

“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.

Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.

Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.

Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.

But here — with him — you shouldn’t.

Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.

When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”

“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”

Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.

“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”

The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.

He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”

You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.

Greedy.

Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.

However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog. 

Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”

Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”

“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, that’s not what I --”

He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”

Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”

“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.

Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”

“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”

Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.

Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?

Hell, you even cook and clean!

Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.

Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.

How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.

If he wasn’t so captivating…

“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”

“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”

Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.

When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.

Waiting to see what you'll do.

Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.

Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.

Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.

He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.

“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”

With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”

The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.

“Woah! I--”

“Tell me something.”

Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.

“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”

The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”

You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”

“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.

The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.

“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”

He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.

Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”

Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.

“C’mon, be honest.”

With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.

Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.

“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”

“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”

“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”

“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”

“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”

There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”

In what world would you refuse?

The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.

He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.

Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.

“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”

Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.

Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.

You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.

He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.

"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."

Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”

"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."

part 2 dropping soon

[anamelessfool]

Hello, I’m anamelessfool.

30+. She/Her. I’m writing a massive Ghost AU because I’m insane.

I like chatting about music, film and art with just about anyone. I love talking about writing! (Minors DNI!) I am a firm supporter of Freedom of Expression for All, so no discourse whatsoever please. Horror, Emeritus Sibling Dynamics, Drama and Action is my jam! Also dolls, peep my pocket husband @resin-popia

My Fic List on Tumblr (Ghost, Fallout)

My AO3 ⛧ Ko-Fi ⛧ My Twitch ⛧@resin-popia Copia Doll

Current Major Projects

Scenes from the Void ( Ghost Band Eldritch Horror AU) AO3 Series Link

WIP Violence & Gentleness Primo x OC Papessa, 1970s Satanic Panic Noir Mystery

Primo x OC Papessa, Primo & Family| Family Drama, Young Primo, Whump, Protective Older Brother, Brotherly Affection, Action Adventure, Mystery, Noir, Late 1970s, OC Nameless Ghouls

LATE OCTOBER 1979 Primo has his work cut out for him as the bodyguard of the beautiful and fearsome Mater Emerita Jocasta. As mystery after mystery unfolds, it becomes harder to remain a honest man in this den of thieves called the Ministry. (Title graphic by @ghuleh-recs )

WIP Oversee Us (Fallout 2024) Cooper x Overseer F! Reader

Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard x Outlaw Fem! Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, bondage (con/non-con), Mystery, horror, action, Canon-typical Gore, Your Boyfriend Is Turning Into a Zombie, more tags on AO3

You're not running away from your sins, you're running towards the truth. Your crime is catching up with you and the caps are racking up. Some cheery bounty hunter is hot on your trail and basically unstoppable. You're doing everything to survive in the topside Wasteland, even if it means going along with the monster.

Thank you so much for your support! I love this community.

Ask Game: Send me a 🎧 and I'll put my music on shuffle and give you a song and my favourite lyric from it

[runscold-runsdeep]

Fanfic Masterpost

Ghost

The Papas

Goner — Copia x GN!Reader, comfort-angst, dark cardiophilia, SFW

Squeeze — TerzOmega, dark cardiophilia

Terzo’s Gift — TerzOmega, SFW

Wait — Copia x F!Reader, NSFW

Solace — Secondo x GN!Reader, SFW

Untitled Cardinal Copia x GN!Reader, SFW

No More Talk Of Darkness — Copia x GN!Reader, comfort-angst

The Nameless Ghouls

Please? — Human!Mountain x Vampire!Dewdrop/Spark, NSFW (Coming soon)

Squeeze — TerzOmega, dark cardiophilia

Just A Checkup — Hema (OC), SFW

Midnight Mass

Untitled — Father Paul x F!Reader, SFW (Coming Soon)

[electronikmilk]

Papa’s Punishment

alternative title: Accidentally Fucking Around and Finding Out

ive been working on this for so long and im sick of lookin at it

rating: explicit/nsfw

Copia x f reader 

contains: dom copia, possible abuse of power, spanking, and pet play. 

You had dozed, then awakened to find that you were still bound in Copia's ornate bed-chamber deep within the abbey walls. 

No, he wasn't Copia anymore. He was Papa now. And you had to address him as such when he wore the paint. That was what he said when he had his Ghouls drag you into his chamber after you had called him the silly little nickname that the other sisters called him behind his back as a joke. Ratman. It was innocent enough since he was fond of the small rodents, or so you thought. Copia's face had grown dark as soon as you uttered it, and it frightened you enough to fall silent after a fit of giggles. Then he reached out and gripped your chin tight before leaning close to address you. 

"Mm. Funny." He said in a way that sounded like he didn't find it funny at all and glared down at you, "It is bold of you to be disrespectful to your Papa when he wears the paint. And that is all I will be to you now. I'm not Copia, not Cardinal, and especially not Ratman. I am Papa, and I will not accept any other title, sister. Perhaps a little lesson is in order so you will remember this." 

Before you could say anything, Copia snapped his fingers, and that was when his two Ghouls surrounded you, grabbed you by the arms, and marched down the halls with you in tow. Everyone within the corridors stopped and watched as the Ghouls dragged you along. Two sisters from the convent whispered to each other and turned their gazes away as if they might be taken away at any second too. They knew where you were going, and it was sure as hell somewhere they didn't want to be, for it was a place of great shame and mystery. You let your head drop in humiliation before your peers, not standing the way they saw you. It was a relief when you finally arrived at Copia's chamber and were taken inside. You said nothing to the Ghouls as they fastened leather cuffs around your ankles, then bound your hands over your head with silk rope. 

"Sorry, sister," One of them had said. They removed the coif and veil of your habit, then pulled out the pins that held your hair in place so that it fell loose, "We're just following Papa's orders. I'm sure you understand."

All you gave them was a contemptuous look until they left. 

You had struggled against your restraints until you eventually gave up, falling asleep despite your buttocks pushing against the hard stone wall behind you. How long had that been? There was no clock or window in the room, so it was hard for you to tell. Perhaps a few hours. Long enough for you to wake up with a sore neck, anyway. The room itself lay in shadow and unbroken stillness. You winced as you turned your head to look around the room. The only illumination offered to you was from a small antique lamp on an ink-stained writing desk in the corner. The dim light threw long uneven shadows on the high arched ceiling above. A king-sized bed sat against the wall opposite you with a canopy bed frame draped with black cloth. It made it look like a dark, cavernous mouth that was ready to swallow you whole. A tall mahogany bookshelf containing several taxidermied rats positioned in various poses stood near the door. You made a face at the furry ornaments. It was definitely Copia's room. 

Your stomach growled, and the sound of it in the stillness of the room made it seem more like a lion's roar. How long Copia planned to keep you in here and what his intentions were, you didn't know for sure. You just hoped he wouldn't starve you. The thought sent a sudden jolt of panic through you; your mind flashed images of you left to rot in a cell in the abbey basement. You knew that the cells had been abandoned for centuries, just collecting dust and acting as storage for Yuletide decorations. But Copia had changed since he finally became Papa Emeritus IV. You had always thought him awkward as a Cardinal, sometimes even amusing in his antics, but he was always just that: awkward, no one to be scared of. It was a curious and abrupt transformation; He held his head high now, and his stride was no longer unsure or clumsy. When he wore the paint, he had an air of authority, of strength and pride no one knew he had. He wanted respect, and he demanded it among the clergy with an iron fist. Everyone was to address him as Papa only and woe unto anyone who didn't comply. At first, you had to admit his newfound confidence in his power was something to admire, covet even. That is until the sisters of the order were no longer safe from his wrath, then it became something to be feared. Copia had forgiven slips of the tongue and had given warnings that he said he would only offer once. If it happened again, however, there would be a severe punishment to follow.  

Sister Claire was the first to be punished. Claire had always been hotheaded and often butted heads with her superiors for the sake of her own amusement. She had been no different with Copia two months ago. On your way to your weekly duty to clean the chapel, you stumbled upon Copia, two Nameless Ghouls, and Claire in the middle of the empty hall. You seemed to go unnoticed by all four. Curious, you slipped into one of the corridor's alcoves and peeked around the corner, as not to be seen. As you listened closely, you caught the tail end of a heated argument over the state of the abbey's gardens. Claire was on a tirade, ranting about how Copia's lack of dedication to employing a proper gardener made the grounds look like it was in shambles. She had addressed the new Papa as Cardinal several times, much to Copia's irritation. The former Cardinal stood back with folded arms and a frown while the hot-blooded sister babbled on about how this needed attention and how that needed fixing. She addressed him incorrectly the entire time. It amazed you how bullheaded Claire could be. 

"Cara," Copia finally interrupted after Claire had called him Cardinal for the fifth time, his voice becoming stern. "I understand that you're upset, but I have made it more than clear that everyone within this church is to call me Papa. And frankly, I will not tolerate your blatant disregard for my rules." 

"Don't you 'Cara' me!" Sister Claire shot back, " And I'll call you Papa when I'm damn well good and ready. But until then, I think I'll keep calling you Cardinal, Cardinal." 

"Basta! Enough!" Copia shouted suddenly, grabbed Claire by the wrist, and dragged her behind him as he headed further down the hall, luckily away from your direction. "I have been patient with you, sister, with all of you. But no more!"

Claire resisted, trying to wrench from his grasp and yelling at him to let her go. Copia ignored this and tugged her along anyway. When she started cursing and slapping at him, Copia gestured for a Ghoul to take her about the waist and carry her. Claire shrieked like a banshee and kicked her legs in the air when she was lifted. Copia gave the Ghoul a sharp command for them to silence her, and the Ghoul clapped a hand over Claire's mouth, muffling the scream as they hauled her away. You watched the whole display in shock, unable to move or look away. When all four of them disappeared around a corner, you crept out from your hiding place on shaky legs. You quickly made your way to the chapel without encountering anyone else, and it was a relief to you. You tried to put what you saw out of your head, but as you tended to your regular duties, the sound of Claire's screams resonated in your head. 

You didn't see Sister Claire again until late into the evening. She seemed no worse for wear, having neither a bruise nor scratch on her. But she was timid, quiet, and obedient, you noticed when Sister Imperator asked her to sweep and wash the floor, which she almost scurried to do. When the other sisters asked her where she had been, Claire just shook her head frantically. Her pretty face grew red, and a look of shame and fear that concerned you twisted her features. 

"I can't tell you!" was all she said and nothing more. 

It wasn't too long until other insubordinate sisters fell victim to Copia's fury. Each one disappeared into his chambers for hours at a time, and when they were set free, none of them spoke of what they went through. You could only speculate, and what you brewed up in your head terrified you. All manner of dark medieval tortures often raced by: pears of anguish, iron chairs, Spanish donkeys, breast rippers, and thumbscrews. You knew all of that was impossible, however. None of the other sisters had a mark on them when they returned; they barely even a hair out of place, so what kind of punishment was wicked enough to force them all into silence? Whatever it was, you tried so hard to avoid it. You never spoke out of turn, tended to your duties without complaint, you even baked a cake for Copia on his birthday. But despite all your effort, misfortune still befell you over a joke that wasn't even that funny. Your throat tightened as tears began to prickle behind your eyes, and you dreaded what kind of torment waited for you in this dark room. 

You were almost lost in your contemplation of it all when you heard the heavy wooden door open. You saw the tall, lean figure of Copia enter the room and close the door behind him, a plate of food in one hand and a blood-red velvet bag in the other. He almost seemed like a specter, dressed in a figure-hugging black suit --the one that you said he looked handsome in to gain his favor. His face was bare of paint, save for his eyes. He had lined them with black, smudged eyeliner, making his mismatched gaze smoldering and intense. 

He made his way to you with both items in hand. He stayed back a few feet, the velvet bag swinging slightly at his side. The faint aroma of roasted chicken found your nose, and the delectable smell of it made your mouth water. Copia gazed at you with narrow eyes, his expression unreadable. You lowered your eyes and sucked in a breath, petrified of what was to come. You waited for yelling, cursing, for the food to be thrown at you, anything, but Copia just muttered something under his breath, went to place the plate and bag on the bed, then returned to undo all your restraints. You stood there free with stiff, aching arms. You wanted to stretch them but didn't dare make any movement that Copia might disapprove of. You kept your eyes down, only bringing them up once to see Copia sit on the edge of the bed with the plate in his lap, then darting them back to the floor. You felt the subtle pressure of his gaze on you for what seemed like a long time. 

"Come here." Copia finally broke the silence.

You obeyed and took a tentative step forward. 

"No." He said sharply, making you freeze, "On your hands and knees. Crawl to me." 

Your head jerked up, eyes wide in shocked disbelief. Your breathing hitched, and your heart started to hammer. You hesitated, and Copia frowned at you. He raised his gloved hands and slapped them together once, hard. It sounded like the cracking of a whip in the quiet. "Now, sister." 

You let out a little yelp and dropped to your knees. You hurried as you crawled over to Copia, stopping just before his feet. He gave a hum of satisfaction.

"Ah, excellent. You're obedient. That is good, my dear. It will make your ordeal go more smoothly." 

Ordeal. The word made you shudder. 

"But first, you must be hungry, si? You've been waiting here a long time."

Your stomach let out another grumble. You said nothing. You kept your eyes fixed on the glossy leather of Copa's black shoes as your apprehension deepened. You didn't want to look up at him; all at once, he seemed large, mighty, and terrible, like he could crush you underneath those patent leather soles if he so desired. He could make you suffer, and no one would witness it. It was just you and Copia. You and Papa.

"Say 'yes, Papa' or 'no, Papa,'" Copia said. "And I'm sure I don't need to tell you to be respectful." 

"I...I-" You stammered, then you swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself, "Yes, Papa." 

"Good girl." He said. "Now, kneel up and look at me." 

You did as commanded, and you realized as you looked up at him that you were crying. Through the blur of tears, you saw Copia's hand reach for your face. You flinched a little, then relaxed when you only felt the fingers wipe away your tears and smooth your hair back almost affectionately.

"Oh, come now. I have not been mean just yet, my dear. Don't cry." He soothed, "There will be plenty of time for that later, but if you're well behaved and do what I say, Papa will be gentle with you. Do you understand?" 

You nodded, sniffling and letting Copia caress your face. It comforted you, if only a little bit.

"Answer me properly,"

"Yes, Papa. I understand." You said.

"Very good, very good," Copia said. He leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead before letting you eat the slices of succulent chicken breast on the plate with your hands. After you finished, he took a sprig of green grapes and fed them to you one at a time. He watched in obvious amusement when you spat the seeds into your hand and timidly discarded them onto the plate, careful of every move you made. When he got to the last three, he took one and held it up just out of your reach. He smiled when you blinked up at him, confused. 

"Up, cara," He said, "Show me a trick." 

You bit your lip, blushing, and again, you hesitated. You shook your head before you realized what a mistake it was. Immediately, Copia took the plate, set it aside, and then gathered you up to toss you over his lap so that your legs dangled over the floor. You gasped in surprise and fear when he flipped your skirt to expose your panties. When you felt the sting of his gloved hand spank you hard, you couldn't help but let out a cry. One great slap after another fell on your buttocks, sounding thunderous in your ears. You heard yourself taking in sharp gasps of pain with each strike. His hand seemed solid and heavy like a paddle as it spanked you, over and over, hitting you on the right cheek, then the left, and then covering your thighs with smacks while your ass stung and throbbed. You clenched your teeth to stifle your cries, and when you tried in vain to wiggle away, Copia held you in place and rewarded you with more vigorous blows, swift ones that whipped you like a strap. And soon, you realized you were becoming frantic, tears streaming down your cheeks. You tried to be still, but your body squirmed and writhed of its own accord. Now Copia worked only the backs of your thighs, where the punishing hand lingered and struck hard until you were sure that the flesh there was red and inflamed. 

"Papa, please!" You finally wailed and broke into choking sobs.

The blows stopped. You didn't move. You just shut your eyes and wept as Copia's hand now moved along your buttocks languidly. He stroked your thighs as if to soothe them.

"Now, do you see why I ask you to do as I say?" Copia crooned, "I can be cruel, sister. Much more than this, I assure you. The other sisters know what I can do, especially Sister Claire. She knows the worst of it. Lucifer's name, she was like a devil herself, all teeth and claws until I tamed her. The other Papas have spoilt her and the others rotten. Not just the sisters, but the brothers, too, and the priests, the bishops. They all have little to no manners, no respect. So I have to take it upon myself to teach them." 

You shook against his legs as he told you this. He rubbed little circles in the small of your back, then he squeezed your buttocks, sending a rush of sensation along your body that made you flush. You thought of poor Sister Claire and what she must have gone through that was enough to break her. Vivid images of whipping belts, heavy wooden paddles, and flesh crisscrossed with angry welts made your stomach sink, so you stopped. 

'I have to be good.' You thought. It was better to surrender than suffer the same fate as the others, better to leave with your good reputation with Copia intact. After all, he said he would be gentle if you obeyed, and you decided you would. You hoped he would keep his word, and you let your body slacken in resignation.   

"I like to play games with them." Copia continued, "I like to order them around the room, fetching whatever I throw for them because it pleases me or whatever else suits my mood. Sometimes I even strap them down and use the paddle. But I never hurt them, not severely. I happen to be a reasonable man, after all. Oh, but that would be too hard for you, wouldn't it? You're too sweet for the paddle, too soft. It's just a pity you disobey me, call me names. Do you think yourself too good to call me by my proper title, sister? Too good to follow my direction?" His hand tightened threateningly on your thigh, then you felt it leave your skin, and you were terrified he might spank you again. 

"No, Papa," You said in a panicked whisper. 

"Do I need to punish you like the others?" 

"No, Papa. I'll be good, I promise." 

"Yes," Copia sighed, his hand now playing with your hair instead of punishing you, "You will be perfect for me, won't you?"

"Yes, Papa." 

"Good."

Copia pulled you back up and set you on the floor. You had stopped crying, though your lips still trembled. You knelt there and awaited his command. Again, he took a grape and held it up for you. This time you didn't hesitate to take it from his fingers with your mouth. He held the next one high enough to make you raise yourself up on your heels to get it. He then tossed the last grape into the air, over your head so that it bounced and rolled a few feet away when it hit the floor. 

"Fetch, little puppy." He commanded, a smirk playing on his lips. 

You obeyed shyly. When you crawled back and dropped it into Copia's open hand, he let out a hearty laugh. 

"You're easy to train." He said and popped the fruit into your mouth, "Perhaps I should make you my little pet when we're finished here." 

You didn't really want to eat it, but you did anyway, seeds and all. Copia beamed at you, his smile genuinely kind. 

"Lovely, my dear." He whispered, his voice low and sweet. Then he gathered you in his arms once more and kissed you deeply. It sent a shock through you, settling into a knot in your stomach that made you shiver against your will. Copia kissed the smoothness of your forehead, kissed your soft hairline, your eyelids, and the tip of your nose. They were tender, gentle, like butterflies that brushed against your skin with their silky wings, and you lifted your head to receive them. He kissed your cheeks, then returned to your parted lips. You let out little sighs as he kissed you despite your fear, which now melted away a little bit as your body seemed to soften all over. Copia moved and rose to stand, pulling you up with him into his embrace. He pulled you closer to his body once you were steady on your feet; his kisses left your face to explore along your jaw and the line of your throat. His slim arms were surprisingly strong as they held you, and his lips were soft. They tickled against the sensitive skin of your neck as they trailed down. His hands started to roam your body, stroking your hips, groping at your ass and the backs of your thighs. It sent delightful shivers along your skin and down your spine. It made you feel weak, dissolving, aroused. Any fear you felt a minute ago faded into a haze of sudden lust. You couldn't stop yourself from throwing your arms around his neck and moaning. The action made the kisses harder, more fervent. When you felt Copia open his mouth to bite you here and there as if to taste you, you whimpered, and your body melted all the more. You felt your breasts against his chest, and you wanted to press them to him harder. You almost did when Copia pulled away, slipping out of your arms. The loss of sensation was nearly gutting.

You stood there dazed, swaying, and taking in uneven breaths. Copia's own breath came heavy and deep as he straightened his clothes to disengage himself. You could see his arousal through the tightness of his pants, and you bit your lip. If only your punishment could be just this, but you knew it wouldn't be. Copia appeared to be fighting to contain himself, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Once he was composed, he let out a quiet laugh. It was almost musical in its softness. Your body burned as you watched him, aroused but at the same time fearful of punishment. You would do anything to please him, to keep him gentle like this, so you waited.  

"Pardon me, cara. You gave in much faster than I anticipated, and I almost lost myself." Copia said, catching you in his gaze again. His lips spread slowly into a grin when he observed you flushed with desire. "And still, you wait for my command. I admit I didn't quite expect you to be as obedient as you are, and I would reward you, but I want to play one of my games with you first." 

Before you could protest, he took the velvet bag off the bed, opened it, and plunged his hand inside. He pulled out a spiked leather collar that looked like it was meant for a large dog. A black leash was affixed to it. You felt your breath leave you when Copia undid the collar and eyed you with a deliberate leer. You swallowed, then lifted your head so that Copia could fasten it onto you. He shook his head.

"Not yet." He said, "Take off your clothes." 

Your face burned as you obeyed. You took a few steps back and hurried to shed your dress, slip, shoes, and stockings, but you hesitated yet again once you were in your bra and panties. You felt so naked already, so vulnerable. You didn't know if you could bear it to be completely nude. You tried to shield yourself by bringing your hands up and wringing them. It did little to conceal you. Seeing this, Copia approached and kissed your temple. 

"You can keep them on. Now, my little puppy..." He buckled the collar to fit snuggly around your neck and left the leash dangling between your breasts. "You have been very, very good so far, apart from your little slip of decorum, but I want to see just how obedient you can be. You know a well-trained dog always follows its master's commands, yes?" 

An icy prickle crawled up your spine, sending shivers through your arms and making your heart clench in your chest before hammering hard again. 

"Yes, Papa..." You said as expected though uncertainty and fear laced your voice. Copia rubbed your shoulders, his hands firm and soothing at the same time. His touch made you feel almost woozy, dreamy even in your unease. 

"I will make it simple: Tonight, you're my pet, sister, and I am your master. As your master, I will give you commands, and you will do them as perfectly as possible to please me. Do what I tell you, and you will be rewarded. Disobey, and you will be punished. Ah, don't be afraid; I don't think you will disappoint me much, but..." Then he pressed closer to you, leaning in close to your ear so that you felt his breath caress your skin, "I confess I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy spanking that plump bottom of yours." His hand slid down and grabbed your ass before giving it a playful swat. You blushed. You felt the arousal rise in your core again. It flooded in, threatened to sweep you away in its erotic current, and you lowered your head, overcome by shyness. Copia lifted your chin and shook his head at you again.

"No. None of that." He admonished, "I want you to keep your gaze up and your manner attentive. And don't hide your body. I have been fair enough to let you keep your underwear on. Now let me see you." He took both your wrists and forced them down to your sides, then prodded your shoulders so that you straightened your back. You stood erect and grew embarrassed now that your posture didn't hide you. Copia nodded in approval, "Yes, much better."

His eyes roamed up and down your body, taking every inch of you in. You wanted so desperately to cover your stomach, your chest, to tear off the collar. Of course, you didn't dare any of it. You couldn't imagine what he would do to you if you were foolish enough to disobey him again; you didn't even want to think about it. 

For a moment, Copia seemed to be thinking, then he smiled. His eyes gleamed like gems in the lamplight. He took the leash and wrapped it around his hand a few times to make it short.

"Clasp your hands behind your back and keep them there. And open your legs wider." He said, then nudged your feet apart until they lined up with your shoulders. You kept your hands behind your back as commanded. It was worse than keeping your hands at your sides. This position arched your body a little more and forced your breasts out. You felt dreadfully exposed, and what was even more excruciating was having your legs apart. But what could you do other than what was commanded? Could Copia be so cruel as to punish you even if you threw yourself at his feet and begged for his mercy? You weren't sure, and you didn't want to risk it. He would have his way, and there was nothing you could do about it. Then you wondered, did you even mind? The pleasure that had built now ebbed away slightly, but it wasn't far from reaching you again. If Copia touched you, it would surely wash over you again. Part of you wanted to drench yourself in that pleasure, to swim and melt in it completely. A corner in your mind wished with all your might that Copia would let you; the rational part of you recoiled at your desire, it being so undignified and sudden. You tried to let your head drop a little, and immediately Copia pulled the leash up with a quick tug that snapped it back in position.

"I said to keep your head up," He said, his voice low, menacing. His hand didn't drop or loosen the leash, so your head remained up. "I will not tell you again, sister. Now be still and don't move until I tell you to."

Copia gazed down at you with such ferocity that you stood rigid and kept your lips pressed together tight. The new Papa was frightening looking but very handsome in the dim light that made his face angular, his eyes even more smoldering. You marvelled at him for a moment, then with a shock, you felt Copia's free hand on you. You felt his fingers trail down the side of your neck and down to your breasts. He grabbed at your right breast, cupping it as if to feel its weight, then kneaded it slowly until it sent shivers through you. His thumb brushed over your now hardening nipple through the material of your bra. He did the same with your left. He then imprisoned the nipple and squeezed it rhythmically between his fingers before reaching for the other to give it the same treatment. A rush of shameful pleasure shot through you and settled between your legs, making your sex grow warm as if it could also blush, and you held back a moan with great effort. Copia pulled on the leash, making you lean slightly closer to him. 

"Kiss me," He whispered. As soon as he commanded, you moved to catch his lips in a deep kiss almost too quickly, still keeping your hands behind your back. Copia sucked at your mouth, then opened it with his tongue as his hand went between your open legs and, without warning, stroked your sex through your panties. You uttered a sharp cry against Copia's lips before you could stop yourself. Your body immediately acknowledged him with a twitch of your hips and a soft discharge of fluids while you struggled to swallow another moan. You squirmed, resisting the urge to close your legs with everything you had. Copia broke away from your lips to kiss your earlobe, then he nibbled at it as his hand continued to stroke you. His fingers moved in slow circles now, pressed harder until they found the sensitive mound of your clitoris through the moistening cloth. You gave a soft, open-mouthed gasp and your hips jerked forward in supplication. You wanted to grind yourself on his fingers, rock your hips for more, but the sheer gracelessness of it seemed too much for you. Besides, you weren't sure if it was something he would approve of or chastise, so you stayed as still as you could, your legs starting to shake under your weight. Copia pulled back and smiled at your flushing face, then pulled the crotch of your panties to the side and glided two of his gloved fingers along the delicate folds of your labia. The fingers teased at the moist lips and continued to massage your clit in more circles, even slower ones that drew out the sensation. Breathy moans spilled from your lips. The pleasure washed through you, mounting and mounting as he worked you. Beneath your ecstasy, you felt a twinge of embarrassment at how quickly you had become wet for him. It was forgotten in an instant once Copia slid a finger inside you, then a second. You shuddered and cried aloud. Your sex quivered at the sudden penetration, and your cry melted into a long, low moan. Copia kissed the corner of your mouth.

"That's it," Copia said softly, pulling his fingers out, then sliding them back in slowly. Then again and again. "Don't resist me. Be a good girl for your Papa." 

Your hips moved forward at the sound of his voice. Once so frightening, but now smooth and rich as velvet. He was so close to you now, and for the first time, you could smell his cologne. It was warm, spicy, and delicious to you, almost intoxicating. Your eyes stared through heavy lids at Copia's lips. They were full yet strong, set into a faint smile that struck at a cord of desire in you that made the penetration even more pleasurable. You wanted to kiss and kiss those lips until you had your fill. You felt your sex start to throb, and you began to gasp, but before it became too much for you, Copia dropped the leash, withdrew his fingers, and pushed you back, that seductive little smile still there. You let out a disappointed moan that would have been humiliating had you done it to anyone else. 

"That's enough for now," Copia said, "Get down on your knees." 

Your mind whirled as you let yourself float down until you sat on your heels on the floor, your legs still slightly apart. Your thighs trembled under you, and your throbbing craved relief. You kept your hands behind your back. You feared that if you let them fall to your sides, you would lose control and throw yourself at Copia in desperation. The only thing you allowed yourself to do was writhe, clasping your hands as tight as possible. You felt the wetness of your sex between your legs, sticky, slick, and hot. 

You let out a sigh, looking up at Copia, your lips parted, your body wanting more.  He snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor.

"All fours." He ordered.

You fell onto your hands and knees. You arched your back, your buttocks lifted as if to be presented. Your body tingled in arousal at doing so, knowing that Copia could see you doing it. You wiggled your hips a little bit, and you were shocked at your own boldness. 

'Fuck it, I don't care. I don't care.' You thought.

Copia stepped forward, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. 

"Good girl," He said, and he crouched down to take a closer look at you, "Does my little puppy want more?" 

"Yes, Papa." You said softly, "Please." 

"Then I think you should clean up the mess you made." Copia held up the hand that touched you. The gloved fingers were still glistening with your juices. He touched them to your lips, and you took them into your mouth without a thought. You sucked on them, letting your tongue swirl around the digits. The taste of leather and your own fluids mixed with your saliva, and when Copia pulled them away, you swallowed. The flavor lingered, both tantalizing and odd to you. 

Copia stood and made an airy gesture to your bottom.

"Wag your hips for me." He said, and he laughed when he saw your face go red, "It's no use being shy now, sister. Unless you want me to take my belt off and make good use of it. You don't want that, do you?"

Your breath caught in your throat. You shook your head. 

"That's what I thought. Now, put your face to the floor and swing those hips." 

Your face flamed as you lowered it until you all but kissed the floor, your ass high up in the air. You churned your hips and hoped it was pleasing. You felt Copia take the leash from the floor and give it a quick tug. 

"Faster. Arch your back more."

You lowered as you were told to do and arched your back almost uncomfortably, your cheek sealed to the floor. A groan escaped you at the touch of the cold stone on your chest. Then in utter submission, any sense of pride, if there was indeed any in the first place, left you, and you wagged your buttocks back and forth like an excited dog wagging its tail for its master. Above you, you heard the creak of the bedsprings as Copia sat. You felt another tug on the leash, and you lifted your head. Copia sat back on the bed with his legs spread apart, the bulge of his erection in full view. Your sex seemed to swell at the sight of it. 

"You please me very well, sister," Copia said. He tugged on the leash again to bring you forward. "No more playing. Come here, let Papa reward you." 

"Papa..." You whispered. You hurried to him on your hands and knees. You kissed the tops of his shoes on an impulse, then his ankles. Copia didn't protest, so you kissed his knees and dared to run your hands along his inner thighs and kiss them as well. His thighs were rather shapely and solid under his clothes, pleasant to touch. When your hand rubbed over his groin, Copia let out a soft moan. Encouraged, you leaned over and kissed the waist of his pants, still rubbing the bulging sex. 

"Undo them." Copia's hand stroked your hair.

You didn't hesitate to undo the button and zipper of his pants. And now you were staring at his cock through his boxers, a small wet spot formed on the dark cloth. Again, you leaned down, placing a little kiss there, then you darted your tongue out and licked it. The hard cock twitched in its prison as if it asked to be free. You looked up at Copia with lustful, inquiring eyes, and you were delighted when he nodded at you. 

"Yes, cara. You can touch it." 

You pulled the elastic fabric down until his cock sprung free from its confinement. It stood tall and thick. A bead of clear fluid seeped from the tip, and you stared at it, surprised by its length and size. You took it in your hand, stroked it, felt its hardness and warmth. You couldn't help but wonder if the others knew Copia was quite well-endowed. You caressed the shaft up and down, tightening your hand every so often at the base of Copia's cock. Copia moaned as you did so, his head lolling back slightly. Your heart fluttered in your chest. It felt good to know that you gave him pleasure, that you pleased him enough to avoid his wrath and to even reward you. What an honor this must have been! A ripple of relaxation washed over you. You closed your eyes and took the tip of the cock into your mouth, suckling on it before taking it deeper in.

Copia gasped above you and bucked his hips. The action drove the shaft even deeper into your mouth, and you sucked on it hard, bobbing your head with a steady rhythm. It nudged the back of your throat, droplets of salty liquid mixed with the taste of his skin. Copia's thighs shivered, and his breath quickened. You moaned as you continued to push up and down on his cock until his hips started to shake. 

"Fuck, sister," Copia grunted, "That's enough!"

He grabbed your hair and pulled your head away. He didn't pull you hard enough to hurt, but you still gasped once you felt the fingers grip your hair. When he released you, he motioned for you to stand. You obeyed.

"Take everything off and lay on the bed." He told you, almost breathless. 

The collar was the first to go; you unbuckled it and threw it aside, happy to be rid of the awful thing. You unclasped your bra and let it slip from your shoulders. Though the air was cool on your now naked breasts, your nipples grew hot and erect. A sudden, inexplicable desire to entice Copa came to you as you lowered and stepped out of your panties. 

'Do it.' Your lust-clouded mind ordered you, and you did. 

When you straightened, you locked eyes with Copia as you ran your hands over your breasts, pushing them together and biting your lip. A dark look flickered across Copia's face, and he stood with a low growl. He snatched your upper arm and yanked you to him. 

"You dare tease me in my own room after I've given you an order?" He hissed, then gave a wicked smile, "You must like being punished, sister. But we will save that for another time." 

He turned to fling you down onto the bed. You fell back onto the mattress; the sheets and coverlet were soft and plush underneath you. You had little time to enjoy it before Copia descended on you with rough kisses, his hips grinding against yours, his cock prodding at your thigh. His hand grabbed and kneaded your breast hard. But you wanted him so badly that you scarcely noticed how tight his fingers dug into your flesh. He then gave it a cruel slap that drew a loud moan from you. It was an exciting mix of pain and pleasure, and you wanted more.

"Again." You pleaded. You arched your back to offer your chest to him, and you wrapped your legs around his hips. Copia rose from his kisses. It was his turn to lock eyes with you as he lifted his hand and struck you again, just a little bit harder than the first time. You whimpered and squirmed underneath him. Copia positioned and moved his hips so that the shaft of his cock rubbed along your slick pubic lips, grazing your sensitive, engorged clitoris. You strained against him, tried to rock your hips to feel more of that rigid member. Copia looked amused by your torment. 

"Tell me what you want." He leaned down again and sucked at your nipples, bit at them playfully with his teeth. Your hands went to cradled his head to you, little sighs and moans leaving you unrestrained. 

"Fuck me." You murmured into his hair. 

As soon as the words left your mouth, Copia rose, brought his cock to your opening, then drove it into you in one fluid motion. You cried out. Your head fell back, and your body seemed to explode in pleasure. His cock was a thick, piercing thing inside you, bathing in your juices as he drew back and plunged into you. His thrusts were brutal, delivered in almost snapping motions that made the bedsprings creak under you. You heard yourself unleash loud, guttural moans with each solid thrust, wholly overcome by denied passion. Copia buried his face in your neck, his breath making the skin hot as he panted. The agonizing pleasure rose in your core, swelling, ready to erupt in a shower of sparks behind your skull, in your loins. Then all at once, your wet sex tightened around Copia and throbbed violently until you were all but screaming in ecstasy. You clutched Copia while the spasms rolled through you, and you let your legs spread wide, allowing Copia to slam into you unhindered until he also gave a small cry and shuddered above you. Hot, gushing fluid flowed into you and lay you back with your chest heaving in gasps. 

Copia pulled out and collapsed beside you. You turned on your side to face him; his features were soft-looking, almost angelic in their exhaustion. His eyes drooped closed, his forehead glistened with sweat. You brushed his disheveled hair back, leaned close, and kissed his brow, tasting the saltiness on your lips before pulling away. Copia opened his eyes, gazed at you lovingly, then took you and cradled you to his chest. The fabric of his suit felt luxurious on your naked skin in the afterglow, and you snuggled close to it, sighing. You both stayed that way for a few minutes, with Copia threading his fingers through your hair. You yawned, and your eyes started to feel heavy.

"We can't fall asleep," Copia said, shaking you a bit to rouse you, "I've kept you here long enough, and the other sisters must be out of their minds with worry by now." 

"Yes, Papa." You nodded, sat up, and winced a little. Your privates ached from their hard riding. You tried to hide it, only making a slight noise in your throat. It seemed you couldn't fool Copia, however. He also got up and rubbed your lower back, kissing your cheek.

"Was Papa too rough with you, cara?" He asked. You shook your head. 

"No, Papa, I'll be fine. It'll pass." You reassured him. 

"Alright, but I will have Cirrus check on you later tonight anyway," He patted your hip, "And what happened here must be a secret. You know this, right? Otherwise, I'd have to gag you and march you through the grounds. It's a little, eh, display, you could say, that I've come up with to officially demonstrate my authority to the others. I have yet to put it into practice, and It'd be unfortunate to have you be its first victim." 

You bowed your head, not in fear, but again in reassurance.

"Yes, Papa. I won't tell anyone." You said obediently. You crawled out of bed and gathered your clothes. Copia zipped and buttoned up his pants, then stood as well and straightened his hair. 

"Good. Now, get dressed and get back to the convent. Tell the Ghouls to run you a bath when you get there. Say it's my orders, and they'll do it." 

"Okay." A bath sounded lovely to you as you redressed. If only Copia could join you...

"And sister," Copia's voice came low, playful. You turned, and you saw his eyes gleam at you. Your pulse quickened.

"Yes, Papa?" You asked.

"Don't forget that I said I would save your other punishment for next time." He winked at you, and your heart soared. 

"I won't." You smiled. 

"Good girl."

You bid him good night, then left his chamber, secretly hoping that that time would be soon.

[gravehags]

heaven in hiding

Pairing: Swiss x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: virgin reader, ghouls being freaky, ghouls being able to smell virginity, hand jobs, dry humping, swiss being needy

Words: 1,487

Summary: It's not your fault you're a virgin, but it's certainly causing problems for Swiss.

a/n: listen the way this man has been acting out on stage recently...he's going through it. someone had to do something about it.

~~~

“It’s because you’re a virgin.”

Your head whips around to face the blonde ghoul sitting on the couch who is currently flipping through an old copy of Vogue that was clearly stolen from your quarters. Your jaw drops and your cheeks heat up painfully while he continues to browse the magazine.

“I—no—who—”

Dewdrop looks up at you from where he’s lounging and gives you a small eye-roll. Cirrus is folded up on the opposite end of the couch fidgeting with her cuticles while Mountain leans against the wall, trying to avoid the conversation entirely. All you had inquired about was why Swiss was acting so goddamn weird around you ever since you and the ghouls had struck up a friendship and started spending time together. Everyone else seemed fine around you so why was he acting so…so bizarre every time you entered a room or walked past him? You had just come into the lounge and he had stormed out past you, practically running from the scene.

“Don’t bother trying to deny it, we can smell it,” Dew says, flipping a page.

“Bullshit!” you squeak before falling into a chair next to the coffee table.

“It’s true, hon,” Cirrus pipes up, looking at you apologetically. “You just smell…different.”

You bite your lip and fuss at the hem of your shirt, clearly embarrassed by being probably the worst sister of sin in the history of the abbey. Finally, you work up the courage to continue the conversation.

“So…is it a gross smell? Like is that why Swiss looks like he’s in pain when he’s around me?”

Dewdrop snorts loudly and tosses the magazine on the table, sending the pages flying.

“Babygirl he’s horny. You’re driving him batshit insane, that’s what’s happening.” Cirrus leans over to lightly smack Dew on the thigh and give him a pointed look, clearly indicating she wanted to ease you into this conversation.

“I…oh. Oh.” Your flush deepens and spreads across your chest, warming you from head to toe. “But you guys aren’t…affected…by me though, right?”

Mountain lets out a deep, vaguely sinister chuckle which Dewdrop snorts at.

“Oh, babe we’re affected alright. Makes us all fucking crazy. It’s just that everyone else handles it better than Swiss, he’s always been so sensitive about these things. We just go back to our rooms and jack off when it gets too much but he’s gotta be fucking dramatic and make a scene.”

You can’t lie, the thought of the ghouls alone in their quarters touching themselves to the thought of you makes your head spin and your cunt ache. Before you can comment on Dew’s bombshell statement, Cirrus interjects with a loud clearing of her throat.

“Hon, why don’t you go talk to him?”

Mountain’s eyebrows shoot up and Dew snickers to himself, causing you to pause a moment.

“Is that a good idea? Or will I make the problem worse?”

“Depends what you’re gonna do for him,” Dew says, a grin curling his lips. “Gonna help him out? I call dibs on being next.”

This time Cirrus doesn’t hold back when she smacks Dewdrop on the arm with the flat of her palm, causing him to yelp and jump in his seat. It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you stand and make for the door.

“Good luck,” Mountain intones ominously as you pass the threshold.

It takes a good ten minutes of you wandering the cloisters to find Swiss. When you see him, back against the wall bent over on himself at the waist your heart sinks. He looks fucking miserable. Were you about to make a bad situation for him worse?

His head is in his hands as you approach him, gripping at his curls. When you get within a yard of him, he unfolds and practically slams the back of his skull into the surface behind him. His body sagging, he turns to look at you, tail flicking behind him in agitation.

“Hey,” you say softly. “Wanted to talk to you.”

He chuffs out a desperate little laugh and folds his arms in a defensive position across his chest.

“About—” he clears his throat when his voice comes out a little too raspy, “about what?”

“They told me about uh. How you guys can smell me. You know.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and you wonder briefly if he’s willing you to disappear, his palms rubbing viciously at the stubble on his cheeks. He doesn’t speak for a solid minute and you shuffle in place, wondering if you should just cut your losses and walk away. When you shift a foot to leave, he reaches out towards you to gesture without touching.

“Don’t,” his eyes open and he looks at you longingly. “Please don’t leave. I—fuck.”

You’re by his side in an instant, hand on his bicep. Upon touching him for the first time, he flips your positions with a growl so that now he’s looming over you while you’re backed against the cold limestone wall. He doesn’t touch you, just hovers his hands above your shoulders while he leans in at the juncture of your neck to inhale deeply. He’s close enough now that you can feel the hardness of him pressing insistently, achingly into your belly and you look up at him.

“Let me help you,” you whisper, moving a hand to his cheek to drag the pad of your thumb along his jawline. “Please, Swiss. I want to help you.”

He lets out a noise that is somewhere between a hysteric laugh and a painful cry as you stand on your tiptoes to reach him. The upward tilt of your chin is all the invitation he needs and he slams his mouth onto yours. The breath is knocked from your lungs as he molds his lanky body to yours, gripping at your hair and neck. You barely register the way his tail wraps tightly around your thigh, drawing you even closer to him. His tongue is desperate against your lips, begging for entrance and you oblige him. The noises he makes as he plunders your mouth are desperate, animalistic, and they send shockwaves straight to your cunt. When you finally have to catch your breath, push him off you with a slight shove and he whines low in his throat.

“Can I touch you?” you breathe up at him and he replies with a frantic nod. You place your hand over his heart and very slowly drag downwards, reveling in the hard planes of his body. He’s watching you, pupils blown, and when you finally cup your palm against the curve of his cock he slams his fist on the wall behind you, effectively caging you in.

“Fuck, baby,” he whines, bucking his hips into your touch. “Please.”

You breathlessly follow the line of him through the black denim and when your thumb brushes over the head his tail tightens its grip on your thigh, practically cutting off circulation, as he pushes you even further into the wall. Your exhales are nearly as ragged as his when he slots a long, firm leg in the space between yours, pressing divinely against your cunt.

“Don’t stop,” he croaks as you continue to swipe your fingers over the clothed head of his cock. “Please, please, please.”

Your wrist is at an awkward angle now with how intently he has pushed you against the wall but you do your best, sliding your palm over the denim in long strokes. Your eyes dart around the cloister, briefly worrying about who could stumble upon you but then he presses right there and you let out a breathy moan. Your own hips are rocking against him now with every swipe of your hand, both of you working in tandem. When you feel his cock jump, he lets out a whine and his hips begin meeting you stroke for stroke. You’re close but not close enough when he jolts forward, practically collapsing on you when he comes with a cry. His hand covers yours and urges you to continue moving even as he finishes, his body writhing against you. When you look up at him you see him blink tears out of his eyes and take several deep, shuddering breaths. Abandoning his softening cock and the wet spot at the front of his pants you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest, breathing deep. He smells like smoke and something sweet that you realize after a moment is your perfume. And the realization hits you that you’re greedy for him, need your scent on him again and again. You separate but he’s still loosely holding you in his lean arms.

“You didn’t come,” he says flatly. “I’m sorry.”

You smile and when you run your thumb over his stubble, he practically purrs while leaning into your touch.

“You can make it up to me.”

[gravehags]

feel you from the inside

Pairing: Dewdrop x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: ghoul in rut, knotting, primal play, rough P in V sex

Words: 2,636

Summary: He warned you about his rut. Tonight you get to find out why.

a/n: this is all @gehrmansbignaturals fault and i'm not responsible for the way my period/covid booster/awake since 2 am brain took over.

divider by @ghuleh-recs

It starts with a text.

Edge of the woods, 8 PM. Wear sneakers.

Terse and to the point, no room for endearments or pleasantries. You’re almost hurt until it hits you like a freight train and you check your calendar. 

November 2 - Dew starts rut

Suddenly a warmth begins in your stomach and grows outwards, spreading through your limbs and creating a hot, throbbing sensation between your legs. You have no idea what he has planned, like, the woods? Sneakers? You had never been with him during his rut before but you imagined something a little more…romantic. Maybe involving some wine. He didn’t tell you much about it other than to mark it on your calendar because he would be…different. And that’s all he said on the matter so you didn’t press him, but your mind ran wild. Dewdrop was already a needy, desperate lover - your lovemaking with him often ending in scratch marks and hand-shaped bruises on your thighs - so you were baffled at how he could possibly get even more untamed. Would it be a blessing or a nightmare? You aren’t sure yet and to be honest you are far too eager to find out, so you send him an affirmative text with a couple x’s and o’s attached just to remind him how you feel. 

You continue going about your day at the Ministry and attending to your chores, but don’t feel a tell-tale buzz in your pocket again - responding to you or otherwise. Back in your quarters, you grab a loose pair of black joggers and an oversized flannel from your closet and begin to slip them on before a wicked thought runs through your mind. With a grin, you slide your underwear down your legs and kick them aside before reaching behind you to undo your bra. Now you’re ready to get dressed, and slip the comfortable pants and button down on your nude form. Your hands are shaking - out of fear or anticipation, you’re not sure - as you tie the laces of your sneakers and take a deep breath, readying yourself for what’s to come. You slip your phone into the pocket of your pants and head out to meet your ghoul lover to see what his ominous request - and his rut - entails. The walk out to the forest is nice, there is a definite bite in the air but the first snow hasn’t fallen yet so the umber colored leaves are still clinging to the trees. You shiver and pull your sleeves down over your hands, regretting not wearing a jacket or something. But, you thought excitedly, it would just be one more layer for Dewdrop to go through. If that is something he has in mind at all. You don’t see him right away in the dim light until you spot two glowing eyes behind a tree, watching you intently.

“Hey babe,” you call out with a little wave, “got the sneakers. You gonna tell me what’s up?”

When he steps out of the darkness and into the low light of the setting sun, you can’t help but gasp. He’s hunched in on himself, fists balled at his sides and he looks almost apprehensive to come anywhere near you. In the end he stops himself about six feet away from where you stand and takes a deep, shuddering breath before addressing you.

“Hey,” he rasps out, as if he’s been screaming all day. “Uh…thanks for coming. I–ugh.”

His back tenses and spine shifts as if he’s holding himself back and his face contorts in what you can only assume is pain. Concerned, you take a step towards him but upon seeing you move, he rapidly stumbles backwards.

“I know it’s your rut,” you say quietly, stuffing your hands in your pockets, “I put it on my calendar like you asked me to.”

He nods and runs a hand through his long, loose hair, claws sharp and extended. 

“Tell me what you need,” you say calmly, despite the riot of physical sensations reeling through you. Fear. Disquiet. Anticipation. Arousal.

You jump when he tips his head back and lets out a laugh, shutting his eyes and showing his fangs.

“What I need…” he says, flexing his hands and cracking his neck, “is for you to run.”

A beat passes.

“I’m…sorry?”

“I need you to take off running, as far into those woods as you can. And when I catch you - and I will catch you - I am going to fuck you. Hard. Fast. And I won’t stop until you’re stuffed full of my cum and can barely walk let alone run anymore. I will give you a five minute head start. Now, run.”

Your mind is a riot as you back away from him, watching something shift in his eyes as he grins. Heart pounding you see his breathing getting deeper, rougher and something animalistic opens within him. 

So you run.

You don’t look back and begin to sprint through the trees, dodging low hanging branches and leaping over fallen trunks. It’s much darker here with the cover of foliage and you’ve already lost your bearings. Still, you don’t stop, even as you feel your arousal dripping down the side of your leg and your heart thundering behind your ribs. Your sides burn but you continue to heed his request and go deeper, deeper into the woods. The pine needles crunch under your feet and finally you have to force yourself to take a break. You ache, in more ways than one. Never before had you considered how…thrilling something like this could be. You hear a branch crack and your eyes dart around you, looking for glowing eyes in the darkness. You’re not sure how much further you can get without bringing your cell phone out for light and you don’t want to make it that easy on him. Fear rockets through your veins, twitching and gasping at every rustle in the trees, every shift of what remains of the light. The sound of your heart pounding and your heaving breaths are loud - too loud - in your ears and it's distracting you from your surroundings. Having caught your breath, you begin to jog again, eyes struggling to find a path in the dark. Eventually you do give in and pull out your phone to switch on the flashlight. A mistake.

You’re so focused on where your next step is you don’t see the slight form of your lover, striking at you from the darkness. Your scream echoes through the woods, sends birds from the tall trees, when he tackles you to the ground. The breath is completely knocked from your lungs as he maneuvers you onto your back, the light from your upturned phone on the ground beside you shining up at him. His hair is wild, half in his face and his lips are turned into a vicious snarl, fangs shining. Roughly he pins your wrists above your head with a punishing grip before leaning down and sniffing deeply at the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck,” he growls, situating himself in between your legs. “Fuck, baby you’re so fucking hot.”

When he grinds his - impressively hard - cock against your core you gasp and arch into his touch. He laughs a little hysterically when you buck into him again and tightens his grip around your wrists. His claws cut into your skin but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“You have no fucking idea what I’m gonna do to you,” he says, leaning down once more to lick a hot, wet stripe up the side of your face to taste you. “Gonna really make you mine.”

“Dew,” you breathe as he steadily presses himself into your cunt over and over, “Dew, please. I want it. I want it so bad.”

He relinquishes his grip on your wrists with a growl and you know you’ll be bruised tomorrow but he’s backing away from you. You whimper, looking up at him as he sits back on his haunches and reaches down to either side of your shirt. With one swift motion he tears the shirt in two, sending buttons flying and ripping a gasp from you. When he sees that you’re braless, a filthy little smile curls his lips.

“You were already ready for me, huh? My good little whore.”

He wastes no time in latching himself onto your nipple, roughly tonguing it. When he nips at it with his teeth - harder than he’s ever done before - you cry out and slip your hand into his hair to pull at his scalp. When he does it again on your other nipple you slide another hand between the two of you to cup at his cock. Your fingers slide against the length of him and he bites - fangs digging into the plushness of your breast. You think he might have broken skin from the way his tongue slides over the spot but you don’t care.

“Do it again,” you breathe, fingers gripping at his roots, “please Dew, fuck.”

He bucks against your hand and chuckles, obliging you by marking your other breast. Tears form in your eyes but the arousal is greater than the pain, and he takes care of you so very well. 

“Filthy,” he purrs into your ear, “I didn’t know my girl liked it that rough.”

“Thought you were gonna fuck me,” you say with a lazy grin, “‘Hard. Fast. Not stopping ‘til you’re filled with my cum.’ So do it Dewdrop. Make me yours.”

You’ve challenged him - always a dangerous thing to do but especially in this moment - and with a low growl he’s pulling back and ripping your pants down to your knees. He doesn’t comment on your lack of underwear, doesn’t need to when his face is contorted in pleasure as he drinks in your scent. He’s breathing heavily through his nose as he unbuttons and unzips his pants, taking his cock out into the chill air. You gasp when you see him - fuck you’ve never seen him that hard before - he’s red and it looks painful, precum slobbering down the side of him. 

“Fuck, Dew,” you say softly, reaching out to him, “I–”

He silences you by slamming his lips into yours in a bruising kiss, tongue forcing its way past your lips to plunder your mouth. His grip on your hair is a little too hard, teeth a little too sharp against you and you can tell he’s reached the end of his patience. His cock wetly rests between the two of you, Dew’s hips shifting minutely as he nips along your jaw.

“Said I was gonna fill you up,” Dew grunts into your ear, fingers fisting your locks, “and if that’s what you want it’s what you’re going to fucking get.”

In an instant, he pulls back and takes his cock in hand, positioning himself at your entrance. He’s still holding back, you can tell, so you speak.

“Dewdrop.”

He looks down at you, cheeks flushed looking on the verge of tears.

“Do it.”

The words are barely out of your mouth and he’s already slid inside you, bottoming out in a heartbeat. He hunches himself over you, like some kind of beast, and begins to aggressively fuck into you. His thrusts are not gentle, not tender and you don’t want it any other way. When you wrap your legs around his waist he practically howls, cock pumping in and out of you. The sounds coming from where the two of you are joined are obscene, and you buck your hips into him again and again. His hands have shifted to wrap around your thighs, claws once again biting into your pliant flesh. You can feel the scratch of the forest floor behind your head as he pounds into you, completely lost in the feeling of his rut. When you clench around him he practically folds you in half in his desire to get himself deeper, harder inside you.

“Mine,” he growls, “mine, mine, fucking mine.”

“Yours,” you choke out, breath continuously knocked from your lungs from the force of his thrusts, “only yours.”

Your response causes him to make a noise halfway between a sob and a hysterical laugh. He’s so deep inside you, hitting that beautiful spot every single time as you begin to see stars in your eyes. You can feel your climax roiling within you, clenching around him rhythmically, causing him to throw his head back and moan.

“I’m close, Dew,” you pant, reaching your hands out towards his face.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he spits, grabbing your hands and slamming them back above your head. Suddenly you feel a swelling within you and realize he’s…is he knotting you? Like an animal? The moan that rips from you as his cock is locked inside of you is loud enough to wake the dead. You’re so wonderfully, deliciously full and his hips rocket against yours, the swollen base of him brushing your clit with every movement.

“That’s it,” he breathes, reaching to stroke your face, “take it. Such a good girl.”

When he slides his thumb into your mouth you dutifully wrap your lips around it and suck, tongue running along the ridges of the digit. Both of your moans are becoming more frequent, louder, higher and you can tell the two of you are close. 

“Fuck, baby,” he cries out, reaching down to rub at your clit. His calloused fingers know exactly how to work you and all of a sudden the light from your phone is creating a halo around his blonde head and your jaw hangs slack as your orgasm washes over you and you witness this divine creature. You’re still riding the wave of your own climax when all of a sudden he’s pulsing inside you, cum painting your inner walls - more than he’s ever released before. You’re so full of him you’re leaking, dripping down onto the dirt but he doesn’t pull out. With a heavy sigh, he collapses on top of you and you stroke at his messy hair, idly pulling the twigs out of it with a dazed smile. A moment passes before you can bring yourself to speak.

“Dew, I can’t breathe,” you murmur, always struck by how surprisingly heavy he is.

“Gimme a minute,” he breathes into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Don’t want to leave yet.”

“Leave the forest or my cunt?”

He chuckles so hard you can feel him shake above you.

“Fuck the forest. I wanna stay inside you forever.”

“How sweet. But I think there’s a rock that’s been digging into my back this whole time and I’m covered in pine needles. You’re covered in pine needles. C’mon babe. Up.”

When he finally does slip out of you with a low whine you’re staggered by the sudden loss you feel. You want him to stay inside you forever. But for now, you let him pull you to your feet and pull up your pants. Sheepishly, he attempts to adjust the torn remains of your shirt as you roll your eyes. Snagging your phone from the ground, you let him guide you out of the woods. The two of you walk in silence up to the well-lit abbey when you turn to him.

“Next time you have your rut–”

“What do you mean next time? Babe I’m still in it. You think I’m done with you?”

His hand reaches down to squeeze at the globe of your ass and he gives you a bright, vicious grin. Typical Dew. So you lean into it.

“Promise?” you purr, leaning in to hover your lips above his.

“You have no idea,” he breathes against you before kissing you soundly.

You’re still finding pine needles in his hair two days later. 

And he keeps his promise.

[gravehags]

sweetest submission

Pairing: Dewdrop x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: soft dom reader, massage, soft ghoul content, general tenderness, biting

Words: 1,097

Summary: Icy hot patches work great, but a fire ghoul works better.

a/n: Just a little soft, tender fucking for your Friday morning. Idea came to me while I was in bed last night moaning and groaning about my own sore back. Someone asked for romantic Dew content and I can’t remember who so if it was you, please let me know!!

divider by @ghuleh-recs

“What’s wrong?”

The blonde ghoul stops in his tracks upon entering your chambers, carefully shutting the door behind him. You groan a little from where you are curled up on your side in bed and he’s next to you in an instant.

“Spent all day moving boxes of tour paperwork for Imperator,” you whimper, burying your face into the softness of the pillow. “Back is fucking killing me.”

He briefly abandons you in order to round the other side of the bed and crawl in behind you. Your frown immediately curls into a satisfied little smile once he slides his arms around you and rests his chin on the back of your neck. You can feel him inhale deep to smell your shampoo and you free one of your hands to reach backwards and scratch at his scalp. When he releases something midway between a purr and a groan, you feel the familiar sensation of desire curling in your belly but he pulls away before you can act upon it.

“Where does it hurt?” he asks, sliding his hand down your body.

“Lower back, right above my ass,” you gripe, all pleasurable sensations gone as you remember your predicament. He tuts and gently places his hand at the small of your back, prodding slightly.

“Here?” he asks, so very softly. You nod into your pillow and ever-so-slightly, he rolls his knuckles into the pliable flesh of your back, making you keen. He takes this as permission to rub with a little more pressure and the moan that comes out of you when he hits that spot is borderline pornographic.

Something that Dewdrop does not miss.

He continues to push his knuckles into the meat of your high hip but you have become very aware of the familiar hardness pressing against the curve of your ass as he does so.

So, you give him a little gift.

Arching your back into his touch causes your ass to brush against his cock and when it does, he exhales sharply. So, you do it again. And again. Until finally he’s no longer using his hand to dig into your back, but to grip at your hip and rut against you. You’re being very cruel and he knows it, but you know he loves every second of the torture. When you hike your knee up to spread your legs for him, he growls low in his throat.

“Want you,” he murmurs into your shoulder.

“Then have me,” you say languidly, generously. His hips jolt forward at your words to slide against your cunt.

“Gentle,” you command softly, to which he presses his forehead into the back of your neck and whines. “Go easy on me, Dew.”

He takes a moment to compose himself as he slides a hand under your sleep shirt, dexterous fingers toying at your hardened nipples.

“I can be sweet,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, “I can be soft.”

When his hips twitch against you once more, you gift him with a breathy moan.

“Let me be good for you,” he says, thrusting lazily against your clothed core.

Who were you to deny him this?

Biting your lower lip, you nod and his hand is immediately pulling down his sleep pants to expose his reddened cock. He strokes it once, twice, before moving his hand to slide the gusset of your panties to the side and line himself up. You realize he’s waiting for your command and you look over your shoulder at him as best you can. His hair is mussed, cheeks flushed and he looks beautiful.

“Please,” you breathe, and he enters you with one smooth thrust.

Back pain forgotten, you groan into your pillow once again as he wraps his arm around your body and begins to fuck you. His thrusts are shallow and slow, yet intense – so different from your usual frantic coupling yet no less passionate. The angle your body is posed at makes every movement of his cock so fucking delicious, and you let him know it.

“So good, Dew. Right there, baby.”

He keens low in your ear at the praise as he reaches down to spread your legs a little further, granting him access to that oh-so sweet spot he’s so good at hitting. You cry out, the loud sound popping the cozy little bubble you had created but you’re too lost to pleasure. He’s being uncharacteristically quiet as he fucks you, and you realize he’s more than content to hear the sounds you make now.

And oh, do you make sounds.

Your moans spur him on and you can tell he’s trying so very hard to control the speed of his thrusts. Forehead against your shoulder, he pants and whines directly into your ear and it’s the sweetest sounds you’ve ever heard.

“You feel so good,” he finally breathes, unable to keep silent any longer. “So wet and so fucking tight for me.”

Reaching your hand behind you once again to grip at his scalp, you hum sweetly.

“Only for you Dew. I’m all yours.”

The confession makes his hips jut forwards harder, faster than he intended but you’re too far gone to care. He begins pulling out further, thrusting in deeper and you encourage him with sweet little words while tangling your fingers into his long hair. When he reaches down to toy with your clit, it sends you careening over the edge, your moans echoing against the walls. He’s not far behind you, all softness abandoned as he fucks into you desperately and when he finally comes, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. You numbly acknowledge the pain but forget about it instantly when he slides a soothing pass of his tongue over the wound. You can tell from his broken moan that you’re bleeding, the coppery tang of you hitting the back of his throat. Panting, you disentangle yourself from his iron grip and rotate your body to face him. He’s a mess, your blood lingering on his lips, blonde hair scattered in his face and breathing heavily.

He looks beautiful.

And you tell him so.

He cups your face softly and swipes his thumb against your jaw, looking at you with a surprisingly sappy gaze. When he leans forward to press his forehead against yours, careful to dodge the base of his horns, you feel your body warming from the inside radiating out. Almost shyly, he brushes his lips against yours and you smile into his kiss.

“Back hurt anymore?” he asks when you separate. You smile.

“Worse. But worth it.”

[honey-tongued-devil]

can you draw rain tied up while sitting in a chair and like he’s extremely submissive and sweaty and shit but he’s also like whimpering 🤤🤤🤤

oh, Satan. I see you, disgusting per-

So, this is still me figuring out some brushes and a quicker style, I do prefer the other one to be honest, but I have to try different things to understand what do I like the most. (this brush is China Gesinski- procreate). I think next pieces will be messy ink pen idk, let me know your opinion.

[honey-tongued-devil]

Rain ghoul design

A quick design of Rain with the muzzle, because I have a lot of little worms in my rotten brain, and muzzled ghouls cure my depression, take care of my dog when I'm not at home, and pay my taxes. So, I've decided that you all need them. I know each drawing has a different style, and I'm really trying to figure out which style to use, which is comfortable, and which I prefer.

[honey-tongued-devil]

HUITS (last chapter)

Before posting the link to HUITS, I want to let you know that I decided to post both the final chapter and the first chapter of the sequel together. I’ll put both links on this page, but you can also find the sequel’s link at the end of chapter 19.

Comment, ask questions privately, anything serves as feedback and everything is welcome.

Disclaimer: All the characters mentioned are fictional and do not refer to real people. Even Kevin does not refer to the actual staff member, but since he appears as a character in the chapters and the film, he is included as a character. I’m not using his appearance, only the name and his role as the former pope’s right-hand man. I didn’t specify this in the previous story because I took it for granted, but I want to emphasize it now.

HUITS (Hide us in the shadow) last chapter:

CTM (Close to midnight) first chapter: