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spacesurfing · 1 year

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Where Jealousy Thrives, Morals Die

Dewdrop x Reader Smut

Summary: Mates are an important thing. Special to one, if not openly shared with another. Especially a ghoul's mate. Keeping them to yourself may cause some.. problems.

Warnings: established relationship, fighting (not with the reader), fingering, p in v, Dewdrop's a bit rough at times, praise kink, possession kink, slight overstimulation, mentions of mutual pinning

GIF NOT MINE!!

•--•

It was mid-day, the sun at the highest point in the sky, though you only could tell by the numbers on your clock. You had finished your duties, quickly finalizing your sentence that you wrote for Sister Mary-Anne, the woman that ran errands for the ministry and supplied you all with food, drinks and various things that allowed you comfortable living.

You set the half-finished letter aside and stood up, your habit falling to your ankles fast before you started moving towards the door, opening it with an eager stomach and an eager mind before stepping through the doorway.

From all directions of the hallway, you heard voices, few moving to the dining area and others simply walking around and greeting friends that have the same lack of appetite around this time.

Usually Dewdrop greeted you near your office, but from the loud, dramatic sighs that you started hearing from the music wing, you figured they had been in a long practice session, one that was tough on them - more tough than they deserved.

You stopped near the turn and looked down to see the ghouls in a clump, the ghoulettes waving to you with the friendliest of smiles. Aether, rain and Mountain all sent you toothy grins as they neared the end of their hall and Swiss only looked at you.

Focusing in on Dewdrop, his face was glowing, balaclava pulled down so you could see his sharp teeth glinting in the light of the hallway. His jacket was on neatly, showing that either he didn't take it off or Mountain helped him put it on after the morning practice.

"Hey beautiful," Sodo greeted, holding your waist as he set a kiss on your forehead. You smiled, closing your eyes as his lips, warm and rough, pressed your skin. You felt your blood warm from that point, spreading all throughout your face with a flush.

Swiss made a gagging noise, "You two are disgusting."

Dewdrop's head whipped around, his lip lifted in a snarl. You felt the air thicken, like you were breathing in a heavy fog. The fingers on your waist sunk into the plush skin harder, pinching you a little bit. It made you want to squirm in his arms but you stayed as still as you could.

"She's my mate, get over it already," the fire ghoul growled out. What did "get over it" mean?

Swiss stepped forward, looking into your eyes in a way that you could feel in your bones without even having to see the way they sharpened under his lenses.

"I thought you didn't wanna talk about your insecurities in front of her - it sure seems like you're bringing up a heavy topic," the multi-ghoul sneered, lips curling into a cruel smirk.

Dew left you, the heat around you increased in temperature, making you pull at your collar, backing away. The group of bandmates behind them had stopped. They know something that you don't. The guilt in the way Cirrus bit her lip and the way Mountain's own lips seemed to purse like he knew what was next. They all knew.

"You have a big mouth, buddy, compensating for something?" Dewdrop spit back with venom coating his words.

Swiss laughed, "I'd have her screaming about the similarities. I don't think I've ever heard her make much of a noise though - what's up with that Dewy boy? Doesn't seem like your mate truly gets what she deserves."

Swiss' cocked head and smug smile all lead up to this point.

Dewdrop reached up, grabbing the taller ghoul by his throat and slamming him into the stone wall. You gasped, stepping even further back as Sodo layed a hit to Swiss' face.

"Dewdrop!" you yelled, snatching the back of his coat in a burst of courage that was soon replaced by panic.

The fire ghoul turned faster than you'd ever seen, claws out to their fullest, grasping around your arm. His human glamour had faded, revealing your ghoul with his face a charcoal dark and his eyes a blaring yellow, his real horns pushing the mask off of his head.

You never had been scared of him before. But with the look on his face, ghoulish features revealed to whoever was in the hallway with you, you felt your heart push it's way to your throat in fear.

Sodo gave no warning of his next motion, only pulling you with him along the ride. You took a sharp breath before following him without hesitation in your steps. You loved Sodo, he wouldn't hurt you or lay a finger on you if you objected to his touches. And through your adrenaline stricken mind, you managed to see that this was still him, still your caring lover.

But he pulled you along with him like he was your enemy, harsh tugs when you couldn't keep up fast enough. He even stopped to a still, arm curling it's way around your waist and keeping you close to him while he walked.

You felt a warmth spread through your body at the way he kept you against him like someone threatened to pull you away, take you from him at any moment.

His horns had grown taller since you'd last seen, knocking against the lining of a doorway that twisted into the ghoul's hallway. It was one you could identify easily, one that you saw pretty often. Most of your nights were spent in the soft glow of Dewdrop's room with it's lights and heavy scents.

But that's not where you were going. When you were being guided further than the first door on the right, you were almost sure his angry haze had fogged his mind.

You sucked in a breath though as he slipped keys out of his pocket, stopping in front of a door. You'd never been in this one, but the name carved into the door professionally made your eyes widen with realization.

Swiss Army Ghoul.

"Dew-"

The fire ghoul pushed his lips to your ear, shushing any questions you had brewing in your mind.

The room wasn't entirely what you expected Swiss' to look like, decorated in various instrument charts along with bursts of satanic red in metal posters. His bed was a vibrant purple with small cross-hatches of black and above his bed was a shelf that held very few books on it. Hanging from that shelf on a hook, a little sign that had a knife carved into the wood. He had music sheets scattered across a small desk and pens, open and closed, pushed back out of the way of the sheets.

His personal guitar stood in the corner next to a shelf filled with objects like cleaner, polisher, picks and more picks. A tambourine sat on one of the shelves, a knick in it from wear.

"What are we doing here," you whispered, turning around to your boyfriend like you would alert Swiss if you spoke too loud. If anything, he would have already known, but there was something scratching at the back of your throat to tell you to be quiet.

Dewdrop closed in, taking your face in his hands and watching you with close inspection. His eyes softened when looking you all over. He looked at you with so much love, so much care.

"Do you trust me?"

You squinted your eyes at that question. Do you trust him? You trust him with your whole soul, with your whole heart and whole mind. Where was he getting at?

"Dewdrop, I trust you, of course I do. Why?" you spoke, trying to soften up on him, give him soothing words that could rub his temples for him. But that wasn't why he asked.

He exhaled, leaning forward till his nose was almost touching yours, "Because in a moment, I'm going to bend you over that asshole's bed and fuck the ever-living shit out of you. And I need you to be okay with that."

You felt a lightbulb flick on in the pit of your stomach, your core kindling a lustful fire between your legs. You felt his words grab you by the hair and by god you wanted those words to consume you.

"Yes- Yes please," you spoke back, the whisper still hitched in your voice, playing at your vocal cords.

Dewdrop's hand slipped into your hair, holding the back of your head up as he kissed you with lips coated in sappy passion. You felt like you could suffocate in the power of his mouth, drowned out by the forceful push of it.

They were warm against your own, his lips laying open-mouth kisses on your own two, other hand slipping surely down to your hip, resting a heaviness onto it as he pushed you back against the edge of Swiss' bed. And the air suddenly got heavier again and your heart started to race in something between excitement and guilt. This was Swiss' room. It was already enough that you were making out on his bed at this point.

Dewdrop pulled away from you, taking a whiff of the air before snarling, "It smells too much like him in here," he turned back to you, smirking with mischief, "We'll change that though, right sweet girl?"

You nodded, hands grabbing at his jacket to bring him into a desperate kiss and he complied, pressing his lips against yours with a deep-sated desire. Your fingers tightened against his clothes, keeping him against you as you were laid down on the covers of another man's bed, still being touched by the one you were undeniably loyal to.

The multi-ghoul wasn't stupid, he would know, but he wouldn't dare come near the same hallway Dew was is for the time being, especially when the fire ghoul was this set off and angry. Everyone knew that was a bad idea.

Dew's hands slipped around to the back of your habit, hand grasping at a zipper and pulling it down your back till he felt the clothing noticeably loosen on your figure underneath him. His hands moved to your shoulders, slipping under the fabric on your shoulders and pushing it away.

It pooled to your wrists, but his hands were adroit in removing the habit, pushing it down and pulling back from where his lips locked onto yours. He stripped your body of the holy outfit, leaving it in an easy pile at the side of the bed - quicker for when he was done defiling Swiss' room.

He removed your underclothing in mere seconds, done with seeing you clothed in the slightest only to be left with the sight of your body sprawled out over Swiss' king-sized bed, panties leaving nothing to the imagination and your bra already discarded into the mess of clothes.

And he was still dressed, something you wished to change, but seeing the way he gazed at you with so much hunger, you had a feeling not much would go your way in that field of desire.

Sodo shed his jacket, nearing you with an aura of dominance. His hands reached out to touch over you, hands running down your sides, planting at your hips and pulling your lower-half into him. His bulge pressed against your clothed wetness, forcing your breath to shallow.

"He's gonna be so jealous," Dewdrop said in a sultry voice, grinding his hips against yours, "when he smells you all over his bed. But you're not his. You're mine."

You closed your eyes momentarily at the feeling of the friction he was causing between you two, opening them back up to see his face. He already looked so satisfied with the way you were pressed up against him.

"You like that baby? You like the feeling of my cock rubbing up against your pussy? Yeah, that's a good girl," Dewdrop praised, kissing you on the cheek, a low growl escaping the ghoul.

You held his throat with a featherlight grip, getting his attention nevertheless, "More, please."

His eyes studied your face, pulling back to watch you with a glazed over look.

"Tell me what you want? I'll give you anything you desire."

You felt your cheeks heat with a shyness of hearing your own self beg. So, you instead grabbed his hand with the one once holding his throat and guided it to your mound, applying pressure to your covered clit with his middle finger.

When your hand let his to hold his wrist, the pressure never dulled, making you squirm with a desperate whimper.

"Sodo-" you begged, trying to squirm away from the pressure that had now felt intense against you. He only smiled at your words.

"I told you to tell me."

You sighed, clamping your thighs around his hand like it would stop anything. And it didn't. He only pressed harder.

"Finger me- please! Please Dew-"

He shoved your thighs apart, releasing his finger and pulling your panties off, his claws leaving tiny scratches along your legs through the action.

You saw him take a deep breath, and with it his claws retracted on his dominant hand. You blushed, feeling shy at what was to come.

Your fire ghoul resumed with his middle finger, this time sliding it through your folds, "Lucifer, you're so wet. Fuck-"

Dewdrop teased your hole, coating the tip of his finger in your juices before bringing it to his lips, wrapping them around the tip of his finger. He watched you, spreading the substance over his tongue and smiling as he pulled it out of his mouth only to push it into you.

You felt your stomach clench, between his oral show and the feeling of him settling his finger knuckle deep inside of you, you felt heat spread throughout your body once again. Pulling back his finger, he thrusted it inside of you.

You moaned, tilting your head back against the sheets. As much as you wanted to watch his fingers work their way inside of you, he felt too good to stay still.

Dewdrop changed his stance, his one hand pushing you further back onto the bed, ghoul growling at the way Swiss' scent seemed to rub off on you. But it could never be strong enough to combat Sodo's.

Without warning, another digit was slipped inside of your soaked hole, pulling a whine from your mouth.

Dewdrop looked at his hand, glancing back up to you, "You're dripping onto Swiss' bed, naughty girl. How do you think he's gonna feel when he finds out?"

You whimpered, grinding down against Dewdrop's two fingers, them curling up into you.

"He's wanted you for ages. But you have always been mine. And I told him that the moment I saw you. You were bound to be mine."

With that, he thrusted his fingers into you again, pressing his palm forward to catch your clit. You moaned, clawing at the sheets.

He looked absolutely stunning, over you with his hair flowing down around his face, a wild look in his eyes. His face imprinted itself into your head everytime he touched you. And you don't think you could forget him now. Not when his hair barely tickled your shoulders when he hunched over to get close to you, tongue swiping at his lips when he liked something you said or did.

"It's always been you," you said in a breathy tone, "I have always wanted you."

You saw the cogs inside his head start to turn, through his eyes, watching him process everything you had told him. He then smiled, laughing deeply with his teeth glinting with victory.

He let no sign of his next course of action except for the way his arm tightened for a second. Dewdrop created a steady rhythm with his hand, finger-fucking at a fast pace you.

His fingers curled with every thrust and he pushed and pulled, tugging breaths and sounds from you.

Pink dusted your skin, the noises coming from where his fingers pushed inside of you making you flustered. They sounded so lewd, expressing your body's reaction to your partner. You weren't the only one that heard it though.

Dewdrop smirked, kissing you on your chin, "Fuck, you're so wet for me sweet girl, you love when my fingers fuck you, huh?"

You clenched around his digits with and cried out. You felt a twisting in your stomach, a heat going up your spine, "Close."

His fingers stopped their motions, grinding his palm against your clit slowly, "What was that?"

"I'm close, please, please I need to cum!"

"Then go on girl," he growled, "Cum on my hand, soak it."

You felt his fingers thrust into you a few time, deep grinds accompanied by the rubbing of his hand. You yelped his name, walls locking his fingers in place.

"There you go, good little thing," he cooed.

You sighed, coming down from your high only to feel the sudden panic rush through you. Dew was still moving his hand against your clit, your body not prepared as you shook with overstimulation.

"Dew- Dew! S- Stop!" you begged, pulling his arm away. He complied, faking a pout when you looked up at him, "Don't- Don't give me that."

He lifted his lips into a cute smile, "Oh, I'm sorry sweetheart."

You hummed, watching as he adjusted his pants, pulling down the zipper and snaking his boxers down. He wasn't looking to get undressed, but the thought of leaving wet patches on his clothes turned your annoyance into arousal.

Dewdrop took his length into his hand, gripping it at the base, giving a solid pump before averting his eyes back up to you.

"You ready baby?" Sodo asked, tilting his head.

You nodded.

The fire ghoul scoffed at your reaction to his question. Letting go of his length, he snagged your body, holding you by the hips before pushing you over. He pulled you back harshly, positioning you head down, ass up.

Leaning over you, he got near your ear with gritted teeth, "I said, are you ready?"

"Yes- please Dewy- yes.."

"That's what I like to hear," he snarled, lifting one leg up onto Swiss' bed and slipping the tip of his member between your wet folds.

You twitched at the sensitivity of your clit, but when he pushed himself inside of you, it didn't matter.

The ridges of his cock slid against your walls deliciously, a shaky breath creeping it's way out of your lungs. He was lengthy, reaching deep inside of you, like he was making his way up to your throat the deeper he pushed.

"Holy fuck, you feel so good Dew!" you whined, letting your face shove it's way into the soft sheets.

Dewdrop bottom out in you, coming to a halt. You figured he was letting you adjust, allowing your walls to take his size. But after the pause got unbearable, you wiggled your lower-half. Dewdrop laid a smack down onto your ass cheek, pulling your hips flush to his.

You whined in annoyance, "Ca- Can you move please?"

Your ghoul growled, "Did you forget who's fucking you? You might be in another man's bed, but that doesn't mean you get to be lazy. Head to the side, I wanna hear you taking my cock."

You shifted, your cheek pressed into the blanket in a way that toed the line of being uncomfortable. You tried to catch a glimpse of your lover, but it was too far of a stretch to turn, so you opted for lifting your head up with the help of your planted elbows.

And in reward to your generous action, Dewdrop hummed, pulling his hips back and thrusting into you.

Pleasure spread through your body, shooting tingles through your core and breasts, hands holding onto the sheets on Swiss' bed desperately.

"There you go sweet girl, I could take you on any surface in the ministry and you'd always look like a princess," Sodo purred, speeding up his hips, removing your breath from your lungs.

"And you could take me- anywhere and you'd still fuck me like a war-hardened knight," you teased back, stuttering on some words.

He huffed out a quick laugh, "Is that a challenge?"

"I never said it was- nnhh- Dewdrop!"

The fire ghoul shoved your body into the bed, most of it laying flat except for your ass which was raised in his grip, and you felt the impact of him slamming his heavy cock into you.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head briefly, barely able to close your mouth as your body dripped with honeyed pleasure. You wondered who was making the exasperated moans, till you faded back in to them being your own.

"This war-hardened enough for you?"

You sucked in a breath, not being able to take his railing in a coherent mindset. Everything you thought, everything you wanted to say, it was always forgotten by the next delicious thrust Dewdrop gave.

"Fuck- yes yes yes! Holy fuck-"

You felt it, the impending stroke of heat. You were gonna cum, the way he was fucking you enough of a stimulus. You'd never-

The next moment was like hitting a brick wall full force.

His hips shifted for a second, and the next time you felt him, slipping through your walls hungering for sexual release, he hit a spongey spot you swore you forgot existed.

But he never did.

You only were able to take three thrusts before you clenched tightly around him. You could've sworn it hurt, the way you were clamped around him so hard, stilling every movement he tried to make. Though you heard a grunt from behind you that made you think differently.

Sodo grinded his hips against yours till you felt his seed spill into you, warmth in the pit of your stomach releasing butterflies loose through your bloodstream.

He hunched over you, resting his head carefully against your back, pressing delicate kisses to the skin. His sharp incisors nipped briefly every other delicate touch to your skin. His cock still seemed to throb inside of you, plugging you with his release.

"I think I could go for a round two," he said in a raspy voice, "But we need to go back to my room - it still stinks of him in here."

You hummed, scooting up on the bad as Sodo pulled out of you slowly, trying so desperately not to hurt you. You realized then why he had you on the bed rather than hanging off it when he was railing you.

His spend mixed with yours dripped out of you slowly, leaving tickles across your skin, feeling some of it drip onto Swiss' bed. That was bound to be an awkward conversation one day, and you were already nervous to have it.

•--•

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a-fools-circus · 6 months

Text

Salacious Want

Papa II/f!Reader

Desc: after confessing to Secondo how you've spent your time alone, he makes sure you know that the only person allowed to touch you is him Word Count: 6.3k Tags/Warnings: bondage, bdsm, impact play, degredation, edging/orgasm delay/denial, rough sex, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, choking, dom/sub, ownership, creampie, aftercare, bc aftercare is important and i want to showcase that i think Secondo fits the duality of being both a rough dom and a tender loving dom, please note that there is one moment when the reader claims to be overwhelmed, but every moment of sex beforehand and afterwards is consensual with both participants willing

this was originally intended to be a fic for Kinktober. obviously that didn't end up working out, BUT i still wanted to write this bc i liked the idea, and i've yet to give Secondo some love so here it is ! this ended up being very fun to write and way longer than intended so i think it's a win. Secondo stans i'm starting to understand you. enjoy babes <3

also available to read on ao3 here

Minors DNI/NSFW below the cut

It was only a few hours ago when you were sat in the shadowed corner of the confession booth. The only thing separating your figure from Secondo’s was the wooden lattice in the center.

Secondo had been preoccupied with his responsibilities all day. It wasn’t his fault—the workload came with his status as Papa. You didn’t blame him for it, and he was adamant to remind you that he would rather spend his time with you. But you were left on your own. You had to sate your desires—by yourself—in private whenever you had the time. It was boring after the second or third time. Your own touch wasn’t nearly the same as his.

You knew the risks that came with teasing him (most of which would come from him), but the opportunity presented itself perfectly when you realized that he would be hosting confession. You couldn’t help yourself. You had to do something to coerce him, to convince him to focus on you instead. Taunting him with the knowledge that he missed out on your pleasure seemed like the perfect way to rile him up.

Armed with your knowledge, you taunted him from your shadowed corner of the booth, detailing every aspect of your indulgence. Every sound you made, every fantasy that crossed your mind, every part of yourself that you touched—it all came forward in your own kind of confession.

Secondo was good at appearing disinterested. Annoyingly good. You could get on your knees and beg for an hour straight, and he wouldn’t bat an eye. He knew he could make you do whatever he wanted when you were desperate to be touched, and he used it to his advantage often.

But his silence from the other side of the confessional was more than feigned disinterest. You could practically feel the disapproval radiating through the lattice, somehow knowing he was staring with that stern gaze he only gave you. He was most intimidating when he was silent, but it was even more nerve-wracking not to be able to see his reaction.

You made it worse by reminding him of his responsibilities; he had to continue carrying out the rest of confession for the following Siblings. You made your way out, leaving him to stew in his frustration as he was forced to ignore the aching arousal between his legs. That was the nail in the coffin.

Once time granted him respite from his duties, he wasted no time finding you.

Now you were sat on your knees on his bed, bent over with your face in his silken sheets. You were completely bare except for the collar around your neck and the restraints that bound your arms behind your back. You were placed near the edge of the bed, instructed to “keep your ass in the air and stay still.”

You couldn’t see Secondo, but you could sense his steely gaze scanning every inch of your body as he stood behind you. There was no doubt he could see how wet you were; after what felt like hours of sitting here bound, you were getting desperate.

The click of his shoes on the hardwood floor is the only sound in the room. Every echo of the sound makes you throb, your holes clenching around nothing. You’re sure that sight is obvious to him, too. But he says nothing as he looks over your restrained body. The anticipation in the air is thick, heavy on your mind as you wait for him to do or say something—anything.

After what felt like an hour of staring, he finally reached a hand out to brush over your thigh. The cool texture of his leather glove surprises you. Secondo’s touch is featherlight, barely grazing your body as it slowly trails inward. His pace is maddening, and you know he’s doing it on purpose.

The trail of his hand stops when his fingers hover daringly close to the spot he knows you need him most. The space beside you on the mattress sinks as his knee comes to rest there. Secondo leans over you, still barely touching your skin.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” Your senses heighten as the sound of his voice finally caresses your eardrums. You tilt your head just enough to catch a glimpse of him.

He’d discarded his regalia at this point, now wearing only the black turtleneck and dress pants he sported underneath. Just the sight of him made you want to pounce on him and make up for lost time. But you contained your impulses, humoring his demands as the threat of his dominance made you ache.

You swallow hard. The face paint he hadn’t bothered to clean off only made him look more intimidating. “You,” you whisper back to him. “You, Papa.”

“Mm. Bene…” His husky-toned affirmation almost makes you whine. “Then why did you touch it without permission?”

Secondo’s words catch you off guard at first. You start to speak, a tiny squeak leaving your mouth, but the words fail to form. You look away in embarrassment. Your eyes catch on the obvious bulge that strains against the front of his pants.

Suddenly, he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging firmly until your shoulders rise off of the mattress. Secondo leans in further, his breath warm against your ear. The scent of patchouli and tobacco floods your nostrils. “You will answer when I ask you a question, yes?” He growls, the sound of his voice rumbling in your ears.

You swallow hard, eyes fluttering shut at the pain on your scalp. “Yes, Papa—”

“Look at me.” You do exactly as he says, your body thrumming with desire as your eyes flicker up to meet his. “Why did you touch yourself without Papa’s permission?”

“Because, I…I was desperate, Papa.” Your heart pounds in your chest at your confession. Judging by the way he scoffs, you assume your response isn’t satisfactory.

“Desperate?” Secondo echoes. You nod in agreement. “What, desperate to make yourself cum just so you can tell me what a disobedient, needy whore you are?” The leather of his gloves squeaks as Secondo tightens his grip.

The degrading term sends a surge of arousal through you. The sensation is only heightened by his grip on your hair. “No, no, Papa…I…I just wanted to be touched. I really, really needed it.”

“Oh, is that it, piccolina? You just needed to be touched?” You nod fervently, humming a small “mm-hmm” in reply despite the blatant mockery in his tone. “Perhaps I should remind you how you taunted me, then. The way you told me how hot and wet you were when you fucked yourself? How you came so quickly by your own hand?”

Secondo punctuates his annoyance with another firm tug on your hair. You whine, hissing slightly at the soreness in your neck. “I…I didn’t mean it, Papa,” you manage to choke out. “I just…wanted you to know how much I missed you…How much I need you.”

“It sounds to me that the only thing you ‘need’ is a lesson in restraint, sì?”

A whine rumbles in your throat at his suggestion. You want to fight back, to argue and prove your point, but that would only garner more punishment. You nod in response before realizing your muteness is unsatisfactory. “Yes, Papa.”

Secondo releases your hair and you fall forward, your face planting into the sheets. He rises off of the bed to return to his place behind you. His hands run teasingly over your body with gentle brushes that give you goosebumps. A shiver runs down your spine as his hands move further down.

You barely feel two of his fingers glide through your slit, your wet arousal gathering on his digits. You don’t know when he removed his glove, but you relish in the warmth of his bare hand instead of the cool leather. Your hips roll towards his touch in an attempt to gain any of the friction he seems to deny you. Your wrists twist in their restraints. His fingers spread you open to reveal your entrance.

“Look how wet you are,” he taunts. The leash attached to your collar rustles before being pulled taut. Your head jerks back, your shoulders lifting off of the bed as your back arches. You can feel Secondo’s cock—hard and straining against his pants—as he presses against you. “Open.” You hear him growl.

The demand sends a wave of heat through you. You comply, but you’re barely able to part your lips before his hand moves away from your cunt and his fingers force their way down your throat. You fight off the urge to choke in order to remain obediently willing.

“You wished to show me how much you needed me, sì?” You nod, humming around his fingers. “Show me, then. Take my hand like you would take my cock.”

You eagerly heed Secondo’s words. Your mouth sucks and licks his fingers with enthusiasm, savoring the taste of your own arousal as it coats your tongue. You ignore the way your body aches from the awkward position he’s contorted you in. Saliva seeps from your lips and dribbles down your chin, escaping you as you swirl your tongue around his digits the same way you do with his cock.

“Greedy little mouth…” Secondo growls as he watches you intently. His hand stays firmly enveloped in your mouth as he presses his body against yours. You groan around his fingers when you feel his cock press against your ass. “Look at you, drooling all over yourself, pretending my cock is down your throat. You look so desperate.”

You shift on the bed, trying to clench your legs together in a desperate attempt for friction at the sound of his degrading tone. Secondo notices immediately. His hand slides out of your mouth, not caring that strands of saliva spill from your wet lips, and delivers a harsh smack to the swell of your ass. The sound echoes in the room. The sudden sting makes you cry out, your eyes widening in surprise.

A firm tug on the leash makes you choke momentarily. “Keep your legs spread,” Secondo growls, his hand reaching down to tug at your thigh and force your legs apart while the other pulls the leash taut. “If you can’t be good, you aren’t getting touched.”

Your hands tug at their restraints, fists clenching with frustration. “I’m…I’m sorry, Papa. I’ll be good, I promise. Please touch me, please.” Your words come out in a flurry, rushed and desperate, as you pant for breath.

Secondo’s hand releases the leash, allowing you to fall forward again. His hand immediately snakes around your waist to land on the space between your thighs. Saliva-wettened fingers land on your clit and swirl in agonizingly slow circles. Your breath catches in your throat, a shaky gasp leaving your lips. Your hips jerk into his hand as a silent encouragement.

Another sudden spank takes your breath away. His hand stops its movements and you whine. “Stay still. You’ll only take what I give you, sì?”

You nod, sighing dejectedly. “Yes, Papa.”

It takes all of your strength to keep your hips in place and resist the urge to grind into his hand when he continues to swirl his fingers. Your thighs tense and your mouth falls open with whimpers and moans.

Secondo barely increases his pace at the sound of your pleasure. Your hands ball into fists in their restraints, a low groan ripping from your throat. You curse, desperately using every ounce of control to keep your hips still.

“Mia piccola puttana…she can be good when she wants to be, hmm?” He tilts his head, watching your pleasure-contorted features. His hand speeds up slightly and you gasp.

“Yes…Papa…Fuck…”

“She likes it, doesn’t she?”

“Yes…Yes, Papa, I like it…” Warmth pools in your abdomen, winding tighter with each swirl of his fingers. Your thighs begin to shake as you lose the battle of staying still. Your hips thrust desperately forward, eager to hit the orgasm that lingers so close to fruition. “Please, Papa. It feels so good…fuck..!”

Secondo pulls his hand away mere seconds before the warmth spills over. You cry out, a high-pitched whine ripping from your throat as your orgasm slowly dissipates. Your hips buck forward as if trying to chase his touch.

“Why did you—?”

“You don’t deserve to cum yet.” His voice is stern, leaving no room for argument no matter how badly you want to. “Poverina…you did not think I would give you what you want that easily, did you?” Your lips part to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. “Such a greedy whore…you made yourself cum and you think you deserve it by my hand?”

“I’m…I’m sorry, Papa. I won’t do it again, I promise.” You whine, grinding your ass against him in a silent plea. The roll of your hips is slow as you feel the outline of his rigid length through his pants.

Another harsh slap comes down on the swell of your ass. You gasp, the sting coursing through you and halting your movements. “Now you think you deserve my cock?” Secondo’s grip digs into the skin of your hips as he accuses you, his grasp so tight you can almost feel the bruises begin to form.

“No, no, Papa. I don’t.”

“No, you don’t.” He taunts. His hand massages the red handprint blooming on your ass, soothing the lingering sting. “Are you going to start being good for Papa?”

“Yes! Yes, I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good.”

“Bene…” He gropes your ass, the tight grip making the welts forming on your skin sting. “Now be a good girl and ask for it. Nicely.”

“Please, Papa…I want you to touch me. Please touch me.”

Secondo scoffs at your plea. “Now I know you can beg better than that.”

A whine builds in your throat, but you swallow hard to contain it. “Please, please, please, Papa. Please touch me. I need it so fucking bad.” You pant. “I need you. I need your touch. Please.”

Without warning, two fingers push past your entrance and stretch you open. You gasp at the sensation, cursing as Secondo pumps his fingers at an unrelenting pace that gives you no time to adjust or savor the feeling. Your nails dig into your palms as you whine at each thrust of his hand.

“Fuck! Yes, yes…” You cry out, your cunt throbbing around his fingers. “Thank you, Papa. Fuck me…”

Secondo’s other hand holds you in place, gripping your hip so tight you think it’ll leave bruises. His fingers curl, searching for that sweet spot that’ll leave you crying out. As soon as he hits it, you curse in a loud gasp, your back arching to push your hips into his touch. He massages the spot with each pump of his hand, sending waves of pleasure through you that make your toes curl.

“Fuck, Papa! Yes, yes, yes. Right there. Right there.” Your moans fill the room, your cries reverberating off the ornate walls. Each plea is louder than the last. Your arms tug at their restraints, your hands flexing, desperate to hold on to something, anything.

Secondo groans, his voice husky. “Desperate whore, all worked up by my hand. You love it, don’t you?” You nod and mutter a small “mm-hmm”, too overwhelmed with his pace to form a proper response. “Fottuta troia,” he growls, taking a fistful of your hair and tugging until your shoulders lift off the bed. He leans over you, his fingers still pumping with their unwaveringly strong pace. “You answer your Papa, sì?”

You wince, whining at the mixture of pain and pleasure that courses through you. “Yes, Papa. I…fuck—I’m sorry, Papa,” you manage to squeak out between moans.

“Tell me how much you like it. Tell me how good my hand feels.”

“It feels…so fucking good, Papa,” you whine. Your words aren’t enough, evident by the way he tugs on your hair again for encouragement. His lack of response has you on edge. “You fuck me so good. I-I love the way your hand feels in my pussy.”

The tight grip on your hair is unrelenting. The awkward position you’re held in makes your back sore, but the pleasure granted to you overrides any discomfort. Warmth builds in your abdomen yet again, swirling and coiling with the need for release. Your thighs tense, your walls tightening around his fingers as your pants grow quick and loud.

“Oh, fuck…I’m…P-please…” Your voice quivers as you beg. “Please, Papa, can I cum this time?”

Secondo nuzzles against your neck, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. “Oh, dolcezza,” his words seem sweet, but you recognize the mocking in his tone. “Asking like that, you almost have me convinced.” His fingers pull out of you, a wet, squelching noise accompanying their retreat. “Almost.”

The whine that escapes you is even louder, even more desperate than before. “No, Papa…why did you…” You stammer and whine, unable to form a complete sentence. You almost feel like you could cry as the coil of warmth slowly dissipates. He releases your hair, a grunt escaping you as you fall forward onto the mattress and he moves away. “Please touch me again, I can’t…I need to cum.” Your hips roll in the air, desperate for some form of contact.

“You need it?” You hear him echo, almost as if he’s mocking your plea.

You nod your head and hum a small “mm-hmm” with a whine. “Yes, Papa, I need it. I need to cum so fucking bad.” You shiver when you feel his fingertips reconnect with your heat for just a moment, barely grazing over your folds. “Please, just keep fucking me. I was so close, I—”

Secondo cuts you off with a harsh spank, the sound echoing in the room. His hands hold tightly onto your hips, dragging you backward until your ass is flush against his body. And his achingly hard cock that strains behind his pants.

“Greedy whore thinks she deserves to cum already…” He mutters as his hands trace the swell of your ass.

“No…no, Papa, I didn’t mean that…” You pant, your breath heavy. “I just…fuck, I want it so bad. Please…”

He goes silent as his hands continue to trace gently over your skin. The silence heightens both your nerves and your desperation. Finally, his gruff voice breaks the silence. “Tell me again, cara: who does this pussy belong to?”

“You, Papa.”

“Bene.” He presses his body more firmly against you. A quiet whimper escapes your lips at the feeling of his cock so close yet trapped beneath layers. “This pussy is mine. Mine to use and fuck whenever I feel like it.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Say it.”

“My…my pussy is yours, Papa. Yours to use, yours to fuck.” You swear you feel his cock throb behind his pants.

His torso presses against your restrained wrists as Secondo leans over you. If you weren’t so afraid of being punished and denied any longer, you’d grab ahold of his shirt and tug him closer. His hands move to your hips, where his nails dig into your skin. “You cum when I tell you to. When I decide you deserve it.” His voice is a sultry whisper, like a smooth velvet that wraps around your senses. It makes you want to forget about your own desires.

You nod, sighing at his words. “Yes, Papa.”

“If you pull another stunt like that—taunting me with your impatience—I’ll tie you up and make sure you don’t cum for hours. Do you understand?”

The thought makes you shiver in a mixture of arousal and fear. You swallow hard, nodding your head again. “Y-yes Papa…”

“Are you going to be good for Papa?” His hips roll against you, and while the friction isn’t stimulating for you, it makes you gasp nonetheless.

“Yes,” you choke out. “Yes, Papa. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“No more touching yourself without Papa’s permission, sì?”

“Yes, Papa.”

His hands squeeze your hips, but the gesture is more playful than painful. “Molto bene.”

Secondo ruts against you, dragging the bulge in his pants along the curve of your ass. He groans before moving to grind against your slick heat. The wetness of your arousal seeps through and stains the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less.

One of his hands slides up the arch of your back, avoiding your restrained wrists and caressing your spine. “You want Papa’s cock, sì?”

“Yes. Yes…please, Papa,” you whine breathlessly.

His other hand trails down your hip and over the swell of your ass before groping you firmly. His grasp is rough, making the welts that have formed from his spanks sting. “Beg for it, puttana.”

You sigh in frustration at his words. “Please, Papa. Please put your cock in me.” You fight with every ounce of restraint to keep your hips still. You want nothing more than to rub and bounce your ass against him, to hear him groan and curse at the friction. But you know doing so would earn you another punishment. “I want it—I need it—so fucking bad. Please, please.”

Secondo leans away from your body. The loss of his touch leaves you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yearning harder for him. “She needs it, she says…” You hear him mock you as the faint sound of a zipper catches your attention.

You groan at the familiar feeling of his cock as the rigid and warm flesh lands on your ass. Secondo wraps one hand around the base, his other hand gripping your hip as he guides his cock to the space between your legs. He barely brushes against you, only allowing enough contact to cover himself in your slick arousal. The light friction makes you whine.

It’s not until you feel the head of his cock rub against your swollen, neglected clit that you stop whining and start panting. It’s even harder to stay still, especially when his pace is so languidly slow.

Your toes curl with strain. “Papa, please…I can’t…I can’t wait anymore…”

Another harsh spank comes down on your ass, making you hiss. “You can, and you will.” He growls. “Be good.” He continues the light and gentle grinding, his hands moving to rest on your ass and spread you open for his viewing pleasure. “Sathanas,” he curses, the sound making you throb and clench around nothing, which he certainly notices. “Così bagnato per me...you are a desperate little whore, aren’t you?”

“Yes, fuck yes, Papa.” Your nails dig into your palms as your body tenses in anticipation. “Please give it to me.”

He slides his cock along your folds, moving back and forth in long, sensual strokes. He pulls back to guide the head of his cock to sit at your entrance and grazes it teasingly, never pushing forward with enough force to enter you. You know he’s savoring the way you whimper and squirm. You groan, the sound turning into a whine.

“Please, Papa…” Your voice is breathless at this point, so desperate you could cry. “Please, please, I can’t wait anym—Ah!”

You’re cut off by his sudden, forceful thrust forward as he buries himself inside you with one movement. The stretch of your walls stings, making you hiss and curse. Your wrists tug at their restraints and your thighs go tense as he immediately starts a rough and unrelenting pace, giving you no time to acclimate to his intrusion.

Each thrust is met with one of your loud and desperate moans. Secondo runs his hands over the curve of your hips, his thumbs rubbing gently over your skin in a manner that completely opposes his rough movements. He groans, the sound sending heat to your core, and you feel him lean over your body.

The leash suddenly goes taut. Your head is lifted off of the mattress, strangling your moans as they leave your mouth. “This is what you wanted, sì?” He growls into your ear, punctuating his question with a set of firm thrusts. “To be fucked hard and rough like the whore you are?”

“Yes! Fuck…fuck, yes…” You cry out, voice strained against the collar around your throat. “Thank you, Papa, thank you…Lucifer below, it feels…so good…”

He leans back and pulls the leash with him. His free hand holds your hip tight, his grip strong enough to make you ache. He groans, cursing something in Italian under his breath, before spanking you again. Your walls flutter around him at the pain. “Dillo di nuovo. Tell Papa how good his cock feels.” His voice is low and rough, practically a growl, as he pounds into you.

“Your cock feels so fucking good, Papa…” Your eyes flutter shut as your head becomes light. Your moans and whines are guttural, choked out by your collar. “I love it…I love the way you fuck me…Don’t stop, Papa.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on it, puttana.” Secondo punctuates the word with a particularly rough thrust, making you cry out with a strangled moan. “You’re going to cum for me—when I tell you to.”

The room fills with sounds of your pleasure; moans and cries leaving your lips and the repeated, quick slapping of skin against skin. His own groans hit your ears and excite you further. He pounds into you with a relentless rhythm, quick and hard thrusts that make your body tremble under him.

“Papa…I’m gonna—fuck…” You feel your thighs shake, unsteady as the warmth in your abdomen tightens.

“Not yet.” He snaps back. He tugs on the leash again, making your head lighter as air escapes your lungs. “Solo un’altro po…”

It’s almost impossible to hold on any longer. The heat that swirls in your abdomen coils tighter and tighter with each thrust, the impending release crescendoing with no sign of stopping. All you can choke out is a quiet, strained “please” in between his powerful thrusts.

Secondo groans at your tight and wet heat, the sound turning into a slight chuckle that reverberates in your ear as he leans in. “Poverina…you need it, don’t you?” His voice is light and sweet despite the mockery in his tone. You nod before muttering a small “yes, Papa” in return. “Cum for me, tesoro. Cum on Papa’s cock.” He growls in your ear, his pace never wavering.

It takes only a few more of his rough thrusts to send you over the edge. The sound that leaves you is one you didn’t know you could make: a loud and guttural moan built up from constant denial that spills involuntarily from your lips. Your entire body tenses and trembles underneath him as waves of pleasure make you throb and clench around him. His pace never changes, working you through the high until your muscles go lax.

His thrusts slow down until they become slow rolls of his hips against your weak body. He releases the leash, letting your head fall against the mattress with a soft thud. His hands trail over your breasts as he leans to place a small, gentle kiss on your back between your shoulder blades.

“I’ve never heard you make those pretty sounds before.” He mutters against your skin. His hands knead your chest as he continues to roll his hips against you languidly.

A weak smile forms on your face. “I…I told you I was desperate,” you pant between heavy breaths. You groan with each of his thrusts, the leisurely pace doing nothing to soothe the overstimulation. “Thank you, Papa. Thank you for—ah—letting me cum…”

His hands trail down your body, his touch tracing your curves before returning to your hips as he leans back. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, dolcezza.”

You barely process his words before he pounds into you again. He wastes no time finding another intense and rough rhythm. Your body tenses as the overstimulation makes you whine, your hands balling into fists as they tug at their restraints. You cry out, your body shaking under the power of his thrusts.

“Fuck, Papa! Shit, shit, shit…”

Secondo’s deep groans fill the air, complimented by the wet sounds of sex. “Merda. I didn’t think you could get any tighter.” One of his hands lands on the small of your back, purposefully avoiding your bound wrists.

Every thrust sends a shock wave of pleasure through you, surges of overstimulating ecstasy that course through every inch of your body. It’s an overwhelming sensation, making every muscle tense and every moan and whimper more desperate than the last. Your noises only spur him on, each pathetic sound met with a powerful thrust that makes you whine louder.

“Papa…fuck, I can’t…it’s too much…” Your knuckles turn white as you ball your hands into fists. The overstimulation hurts, but the pain only adds to the pleasure he gives you. You trust him enough to know he’d drop everything if you were genuinely hurt. But right now, he knew you had no interest in stopping.

The leash suddenly goes taut, your head lifting off of the mattress again at his sudden tug. He spanks you again, your cry strangled by his sharp tug on the leash. “Fucking take it,” you hear him growl. Another spank makes you whine. “You’ll take my cock until I’m done with you, puttana.”

You groan at his words, your back arching into his thrusts. “Y-yes, P-Papa…”

His thrusts turn sharp and quick as he ruts against you. It’s primal and needy—almost animalistic—the way he moves. Each slap of his hips against your ass makes you hiss, the welts left from his hand stinging at every movement. Your body remains tense, every drag of his cock along your walls causing you to clench around him.

“Così fottutamente buono...questa figa è perfetta, tesoro…” You can barely hear his low, husky voice over the sound of skin meeting skin. Secondo tugs again on the leash, making you groan as your head jerks back. He leans down until his breath hits your ear. “You’re going to cum again for me, dolcezza.” His tone is clear—his words are a command, not a suggestion. “I want to feel this pussy milk my cock.”

The vulgarity in his words makes you whine. “Yeah…yes, Papa—fuck, I wanna milk your cock dry.”

“Sì, that’s what you want, giusto? You want Papa to cum in you and fill you up?” He growls in your ear, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, Papa, I want your cum…Please, pump me full.” You strain to speak against the tight collar, but your plea is loud and desperate.

You can hear his breathing growing heavier. You can tell he’s getting close. He shoves his cock as deep as he can as his thrusts turn into forceful rolls of his hips as he grinds against you. The friction makes the marks on your ass sting.

Secondo’s free hand snakes around the curve of your hips, wasting no time finding your swollen and aching clit. His fingers swirl in time with each movement of his hips. The rhythmic pace between his deep penetration and the delicious friction of his hand makes you writhe under him.

You curse, your hips jerking wildly into his hand and against his hips, too overstimulated to find a rhythm. “Papa…Papa..!” You cry out and whine as your eyes screw shut.

He knows exactly how to make you tremble, all of the movements that send you closer to the edge and make you melt under his touch. The repeated clenching of your cunt makes him groan and curse.

“Fuck, Papa! I’m gonna…Sathanas, I’m gonna cum again, shit…” You feel your thighs shake and tremble, every muscle in your body tensed as the heat in your abdomen returns, mounting to a high.

Secondo pants, tugging on the leash again. “Dai, dai…cum for me, cum for Papa.”

The dual pleasure leaves you unable to resist, the sensations overwhelming your body. Your second orgasm is even more intense than the last. Your body shakes and your moans turn into whines as the pleasure leaves you overwhelmed. You don’t even notice the few tears that escape as you writhe and tremble. He works you through the high, his hand swirling perfectly against your sensitive core to prolong your pleasure for as long as possible. He only removes his hand once your whines turn to hisses.

The continuous, rough movements enacted on your overwhelmed body borders on pain. But you know he’s close, evident by his heavy breathing and groans as he pounds into you with the last of his strength. His grip is tight on your hip as the other hand holds your leash taut to keep your body in place.

With one final powerful thrust, Secondo stills as he spills himself into you. You feel every kick and pulse of his cock as he fills you. He groans, growling something in Italian, but you’re too far gone to comprehend it. He releases his grip on the leash, allowing your head to fall to the mattress.

Your body goes lax as he pulls out of you. Both of you grunt at the sensation. A wet squelch fills the air as you whine at the emptiness, too accustomed to his presence despite how overwhelming it feels. Your hips fall flat on the bed as you pant for breath and groan at the soreness in your back.

A wave of relief courses through you as your wrists are released from their restraints. The ache in your shoulders is painfully evident now that you can move freely. You roll onto your side, blinking heavily as you look up to see Secondo’s face.

His paint is smeared in various places, streaked by beads of sweat. His chest heaves with his own heavy breaths. You get the urge to scold him for exerting himself at his age.

He leans over you, reaching down to unfasten the collar around your neck. You instinctively tilt your head to make the process easier. You sigh when the garment is removed, allowing your skin to breathe and give your neck a break. Your eyes are heavy as you watch him place the collar and restraints on the nightstand with care.

Secondo leans down again, running a hand through your hair. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Un momento, bella,” he mutters against your skin before leaning away.

You watch as he walks in the direction of the adjoining bathroom before he disappears past the doorway. A small smile graces your face. It was easy to get intimidated by him, by his steely gaze and guarded demeanor, but he showed you a tenderness that no one else could match.

It was never as evident as it is in these moments. When he walks back into the room with a damp washcloth in his hand, your heart swells. He always takes the time to treat you so gently after sex, especially when it’s rough.

He cleans you carefully, running the washcloth over your flushed skin. He moves you with a sense of care and worship, like you’ll shatter beneath his touch if he isn’t careful. The warmth of the wet fabric is soothing, making you sigh with each stroke. He occasionally leans down to place kisses along your skin.

Once you’re clean, he lays the cloth on the nightstand. You know he’ll retrieve it later, probably after you’ve drifted off to sleep. He guides you to lay against the pillows, helping you move in your sore state. You groan at the aching pain in your body—the sting of your ass, the soreness in your shoulders, the aching of your back. He runs a hand over your thigh, fingers barely grazing your skin as his touch trails over the swell of your ass.

“You’re still red,” Secondo remarks. You feel the slight tingle of discomfort, your skin warm from the welts that have formed. “You must still be sore.”

You can hear the concern in voice, almost as if he regrets what he did. “It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt that bad. I’ll be okay.”

“You’re sure?”

You smile at him, at his worry. “Yes, I’m sure.” You extend an arm towards him, beckoning him closer with your hand. “Now come here. I want you to lay with me.”

“Oh, is that right?” He teases. Despite his sarcastic tone, he’s already kicking off his shoes. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes. It is. You need your rest too, old man.”

You hear him scoff before he climbs onto the bed and situates himself beside you. “‘Old man’, huh?” He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close until your back is flush against his chest. He’s careful to keep distance between your hips so as not to irritate your welted skin. “Stai attento, mia cara. You wouldn’t want another punishment so soon, would you,”

You giggle at his words, laying your hand atop his arm and pulling him closer. You groan as you settle against the bed, attempting to allow your aching body to relax. You feel his arm move away from your waist. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, his thumb massaging firm circles into your sore muscles. The gesture makes you smile, your head turning back to look at him.

“You don’t have to do that, Papa.”

“Oh, of course I do,” he responds, his hand working towards your shoulder blades. His lips brush over your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “Mia piccola bellezza was so good for her Papa. She deserves to be taken care of.” His lips land on your neck, trailing kisses down to your shoulder. “You’re always so good for Papa,” he mutters between kisses.

He leans in to kiss you, and you turn to meet his movement. The gesture sends sparks through you. You smile against his lips, pressing into his kiss and relishing in the warmth that blooms in your chest.

You don’t know when you fell asleep after that. You laid there, allowing him to tend and care for you however he felt necessary. Not every touch was meant to massage or tend to your sore muscles, but you didn’t care. Just having his hands on your body was enough.

This was how he showed his love to you, and you found nothing but comfort and security in his arms.

#surprise ! i posted #crazy i know #clown's stuff #papa emeritus ii #papa ii #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo x reader #papa emeritus x reader #papa x reader #the band ghost smut #the band ghost #ghost bc

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serene-sun · 1 year

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18+ minors dni!

The nameless ghouls and their favorite sex positions

Sodo/dewdrop: boy this boy sure does have many favorites, but his top three are legs up, counter top, and doggy style. In legs up, he just loves the way he gets closer to you-pumping himself further and deeper inside. When doing counter, dew likes the idea of doing it anywhere anytime. Doggy style is pretty self explanatory, I mean any chance to hammer into you in front of a mirror…

Swiss: this fucker stands up, he makes positions nobody is even brave enough to act out. But whatever positions makes your face best watchable in a dirty 6ftX6ft mirror is best, count that as his favorite.

Aether: PILLOW PUMP, fuck does he love some pillow pumping. He is always down to lay you on his bed-atop with very own pillow- completely naked and pump you full of him. Fuck does he love to breed in this position. He wants to hold every inch of you as he does it.

Mountain: the lotus, oh does this boy love this position. He loves to tower of you as you sit in his lap, buried deep inside of you. Your forehead comes to about just his chest, shoulders if your lucky. This give this earth ghoul power, reign, total control as he looks down at your form tightening around his long length.

Rain: bicycle pump, the scissor straddle? Uhm yes! This ghoul will do ANYTHING to be close to you if not completely intertwined with you. He only wants the feels, so he isn’t too much on positions but whatever you want is what he wants!

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forlorn-crows · 1 month

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@miasmaghoul tortured me last week with visions of trans aether + pussy eating. @askingforthesun blindly chose dewther over mount/aethe for me, so here we are.

a short little smutty something about dew sucking aether's fat tdick

>:)

“That's it, just like that,” Aether praises, gripping Dew’s hair minutely tighter. Forcing his head to tip back just so, chin grazing Aether’s wet entrance each time he bobs up and down on that plump little dick.

Aether tosses his head back with a halted fuck as the fire ghoul sucks hard, tongue swirling around the sensitive head. Lips pushing back the hood. He forces himself to look back down—back into those glassy, half-lidded slivers of copper that gaze up at him with need. So content to suckle on him for as long as Aether likes, for as long as it takes to get him dripping and puffy and begging for Dew’s cock.

That'll take ages today, though. Aether wants to grip his hair and drag him on and off and on and off until Dew’s crosseyed and seeking friction on the air between his feet.

The both of them are nothing if not devoted.

“So pretty with your lips on me,” the quint ghoul rumbles. He pulls Dew off with one hand—hot, slick mouth far too empty—and reaches down. Picking up the underside of his cock with one finger and jiggling it in front of his lips.

Dew whines. Drool falls off his tongue in a stretchy line, snapping when he opens his mouth that much wider.

“Yeah? You want it?” Aether pulls him back so his bottom lip is a hair's breadth away from his flushed clit. “Want me to give it to you?”

Dew nods, eyes never leaving Aether’s face. Another line of drool descends towards the floor like molten sugar.

Aether groans and guides it into his mouth, tapping it a few times on his taste buds before pressing his nose into his nest of hair and molding his mouth around his folds. Bucking his hips into delicious, needy warmth.

Dew’s eyes flutter, and he sucks obediently, lips buzzing against Aether’s skin each time he pulls away. A harsh, sloppy sound that the quint ghoul can't get enough of, let alone the lovely whines huffed through his nose or the full body groans that vibrate through his core as Dew’s hands scrabble for purchase on his thighs. Sinful and lewd, indicative of how badly he (both of them, really) wants it.

“Sloppy,” Aether groans. Dew only hums in agreement, cupping his length with the flat of his tongue. His own cock twitches between his legs, wet with pre, bouncing up towards his stomach. “Keeping it nice and hard for me, aren’t you?”

Aether allows him to pull off with a pop. He looks at him with swollen lips and a crimson flush on his cheeks. “Want more of you,” he rasps, hands kneading at the front of the quint ghoul’s thighs. Slipping behind instead to grab his ass and pull him closer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nuzzles into the apex of his thigh, looking up at him through light eyelashes. He bats them enticingly. “Want you on my face.”

Aether groans, dick kicking next to Dew’s face. “Fuck, Dewy,” he breathes, petting the side of his face. “Get that pretty nose nice and wet?”

The fire ghoul digs his nails into Aether’s ass. Breath hitching through a moan. “Yeah,” he says. “Long as you want.”

Aether smiles and purrs, thumb running along Dew’s wet lower lip and slipping inside. Again, the fire ghoul suckles without hesitation, the suction almost just as nice on his thumb as it was on his dick.

“Get on the bed, baby boy,” he commands.

He steps back, still holding his hand out in a gentlemanly fashion, so that Dew can rise up on shaky knees and melt himself into the sheets. Positioning himself the perfect distance from the headboard for Aether to take his seat and have something to rest his arms against. The fire ghoul’s cock stands at attention as he beckons Aether with grabby hands.

The bigger ghoul crawls over him, shuffling until his knees bracket Dew’s ears. Humming when his small hands track up his thighs and grab at his hips. Dew looks up at him with hunger, love, and desire in equal measure, and Aether’s knees just about give out right then.

But.

He places his hands atop the headboard. Knees shifting further apart until that proud nose is close to kissing the tip. And then, just because he can, he sneaks his tail down the length of Dew’s body until the leathery end caresses right along the seam of his tight sac, pressing upwards towards the base until he wrings out a surprised gasp.

His mouth drops open with divine timing as Aether purrs:

“Open up.”

#the band ghost #dewther #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost fanfic #ficlet #aether/dewdrop #dewdrop/aether #aether x dewdrop #dewdrop x aether #the band ghost smut #transmasc aether #yes im crazy about aether's dick can you tell #honestly this is pretty tame for me #as far as the topic of tdick goes

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 2 years

Note

No thoughts just Rainsmut from ghost

Don't know if this was a request or just a lovely thought but yes, the answer is yes. Wooo, had dust off the cobwebs in my brain for this one *cracks knuckles* This is fem!Reader too, hope that's okay

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), Rain is a shy boi turned soft dom boi, oral (f and m!receiving), biting, scratching, marking, blood, fluffy aftercare (more for Rain honestly even though he was the dom lmao he needs reassurance)

2.2K Words🤙🏻

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You never expected to find love in your life, not to any human, especially not to a demon. But becoming a Sister of Sin took you on a path that still manages to shock you, including how you felt towards a specific water Ghoul.

Everyone told you that having a Ghoul as a partner could have its…difficulties.

In the past, relationships between a Ghoul and a human would not last long, and the end usually was not pretty. You heard stories of blood, violence, and death. Some Ghouls had the tendency of getting territorial of their mates, often picking fights with other Ghouls if they even had a suspicion that one of them was interested. In rare instances, some Ghouls would even kill their mates, though not on purpose. So you would’ve had every right to be more than a little hesitant in being with a Ghoul.

But you knew Rain wasn’t like that.

Typically, the water types were less aggressive and more reserved than the others, often keeping to themselves, staying out of trouble, and never really picking fights unless they felt threatened. But they were still demons, they still had an aura of danger surrounding them, they could still annihilate a human if they ever felt like it. But Rain never gave you that vibe that he was even capable of such acts. He made you feel safe, comfortable. He was protective, but not in an overbearing type of way. If you were around any other Ghouls, he’d always be by your side watching over you. He was sweet, and you couldn’t see a world where he’d ever hurt you on purpose.

The two of you had been together for a few months now, but you still did nothing more than kiss. It was frustrating, and it had to have been difficult for Rain too. For some people, that contact is a need and a lack of that made you more irritable. You knew how skittish Rain could be, and you absolutely did not want to pressure him into doing anything he wasn’t ready for. But you were so desperate for his touch and you didn’t know how long you’d be able to last.

You wanted to be with Rain intimately, but you just didn’t know how to bring it up without spooking him off. You were aching and needed him now, but him being off in a touring band caused some unwanted distance between the two of you, so you were just going to have to handle it yourself like you always had to.

You exhaled a shaky breath as you removed your habit, laying on your bed with your legs slightly spread. You imagined Rain looking down on you, eyes dark and narrow behind his stage mask, a bulge prominently poking through his tight black jeans. You imagined his soft voice telling you what to do, forcing you to obey his every command. You slowly trailed your fingers down your body, running along your lace lingerie, tentatively journeying down until your fingers felt the heat that was radiating from your already sopping wet cunt, begging to be touched.

You were a second away from reaching your aching nub until the door to your bedroom opened suddenly, a grinning Rain entering the door frame. But he quickly froze as he realized what was happening, his grin falling off his face and his eyes widening in shock as your half naked form. “Oh, fuck-! Uh, I’m sorry!” He covered his eyes and quickly closed your door, leaving you flushed and disheveled.

You put on a robe and walked out, finding Rain with his head in his hands in your living room. “Rain?” You called out softly, taking cautious steps towards him.

“I am so sorry, babe. We, the band, we got a few days off and I wanted to surprise you but…oh god.” Rain’s ears were flattened back, his tail actually tucked between his legs, coiling around his leg tightly. He sighed. “I didn’t mean to…walk in on you like that, I promise.”

You gently took a seat next to him, reaching up to lightly rub his back. “Hey, it’s okay. I mean, you did really surprise me.” You joked, smiling when he managed a nervous chuckle, his body untensing a little. “Coulda joined me, you know?” You said, in a split second decision, wondering if testing the waters was a good idea in the moment. You felt him tense up again beneath your hand, almost regretting your words until you noticed a slight bulge in his pants, not unlike the one you saw in your fantasy. “I mean, don’t you want to, with me?” You asked, feeling a little insecure.

Rain furrowed his brows and sat up more straight, taking a hold of your hand. “Of course I do, it’s just…you’re human. You can…break.” You don’t know why his choice of words made you clench, a sharp pang of desire shooting straight through your core. “I don’t wanna hurt you. Dewdrop almost killed his mate during…you know. I don’t want that to happen to you. I couldn’t live with myself.”

“You’re not Dewdrop, Rain. You’re not like that.”

“He wasn’t like that either until it happened.” He frowned.

You could’ve whined. You were so needy. You understood his apprehension. It made you nervous too, but you loved your demon and you wanted him badly. “I want you, Rain. You want me too, I know you do. But…I understand if you can’t. But there is nothing you could do to me that would make me love you any less. You could never hurt me.”

Rain inhaled sharply, his hands tightening into fists as he smelled your arousal. It could’ve driven him mad. He saw how your thighs pressed together, how your teeth nawed away at the dead skin of your lips, how anxious your expression was. You looked to be in pain, and that pained him. “If we do this…you have to promise me, if I get too rough or do anything that you don’t like, you stop me. Whatever you have to do.” He spoke seriously, his pupils dilated until you could barely see his iris’.

“Yes, Rain. Just please, touch me.” You begged, opening one of his fists and bringing the palm to cup your sex, gasping as the much needed contact. You heard him audibly inhale, a soft purr rumbling in his chest. “Feel how much I want you? Feel how wet you make me?” You whispered.

Rain growled as he surged forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, teeth grazing against each other’s and pushing your tongues to meet. You moaned in his mouth as he started playing with your clit through your underwear, the fabric practically ruined with how soaked it was. “I didn’t realize how good you smell like this, baby.” Rain purred, trying his best to maintain his composure while he pushed the robe off your shoulders. “Bedroom. Now.” He ordered, leading you to the bed hastily.

You sat on the bed with a glazed over look in your eyes, your ears perked up at the sound of Rain’s belt buckle coming unlatched, the leather sliding and making a slapping sound as he removed it and tossed it to the floor. You could feel your mouth watering as he started to unbutton his pants. “You look so gorgeous like that, sweetheart. You wanna suck my cock, hm? Your mouth is already halfway open.” You could only nod as you finally started to see the side of Rain that you’ve been dreaming of.

Rain beckoned you to sit on the edge of the bed, removing the rest of his clothes and taking his hard cock out of the confines of his pants and watching your expression as you finally saw all of him. “Is this what you were thinking about before I came home?” He asked darkly, gently caressing the back of your head. “You touch yourself to thoughts of me?” You nodded weakly, your mouth filling with saliva as your lips finally came into contact with the head of his cock.

Rain groaned loudly as you took him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head and moaning at the taste. “Oh, sweet Lucifer…” He cursed, reaching down to unclasp your bra and to lift your chin, biting his lip at the sight. Tears in your admiring eyes, drool running down your chin and onto your tits, all for him. The view could’ve made him come right then and there. But he wanted you to feel good too.

You gasped as he tore you away from his dick, having you stand up as he sank to his knees, his own expression needy and glazed over as he ran his claws up your thighs, forcing goosebumps to form along the path. You quickly stepped out of your underwear as he pulled them down, him grabbing the back of one of your thighs to bring your leg to rest on his shoulder. Rain licked his lips as he finally saw the full glory that was your pussy, your arousal coating it and your inner thighs. He had never seen such a pretty sight.

You let out a cry as Rain dove in, lapping up all your wetness and going to work right away. His long tongue poked and prodded at your tight entrance, undulating against your folds in such a way that you almost saw stars. “So sweet.” He growled, moving to focus on your clit, using his forked tip to rub on either side of the little nub. You tried not to scream, your legs threatening to give out just from the pure pleasure Rain was giving you. It was hard to focus on anything other than how his tongue was making you feel. But then it all came to a stop unfortunately, a loud whine escaping you as Rain rose to his feet with a shiny nose and chin. “I could do that all day.” He chuckled, but instead of doing just that, he pushed you gently to lay on the bed with your legs spread.

“Please, Rain…” You begged, arching your back so your chest could touch his, reaching out to hold onto his shoulders. “I need you.” And without warning, Rain entered you, almost immediately filling you to the brim, the head of his cock grazing your sweet spot already. “Fuck!” You moaned, wrapping your legs around his torso as he started to thrust into you.

“You feel so good.” Rain panted, a thin sheen of sweat already building on his forehead. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He whimpered, the sound driving you wild.

Rain buried his head into the crook of your neck, holding onto your shoulders with a vice grip. You felt multiple sharp stings as his claws extended, digging into the soft flesh, but Rain didn’t seem to notice, too lost in the feeling of you. It surprised you to find that you enjoyed it, the pain only amplifying the pleasure you already felt. The pain brought you closer to the peak you so desperately wanted to reach, you didn’t even notice you were clawing him right back.

“Fuck, Rain, I’m so close!” You cried, attempting to meet his thrusts from underneath him, but Rain suddenly had a vice grip on your hips, pushing them down and pistoning into you even harder. “Oh, god-!” You threw your head back, unable to do anything but just take it, the pleasure rendering you useless.

The final straw was the new pleasurable pain you felt in the hollow of your neck, sharp fangs breaking your skin and sinking in, marking you in a way that just felt so right. It hit you like a train, knocking the breath out of your lungs, and then you let out a loud strained moan as you came around his cock. “Yes, yes, yes.” Rain whispered as his thrusts became sloppy, licking up your neck and stilling, his cum spilling inside of you as he whimpered.

You whined as Rain pulled out of you, flopping down beside you in exhaustion, a blissed out expression on his face. But his face quickly furrowed in concern, finally taking notice of the droplets of blood that slowly leaked out of your claw and bite marks. “Oh fuck, baby, I hurt you. Shit, I know this would happen. I never should have-”

“Rain, Rain!” You quickly interrupted before he had a full blown panic attack. “You didn’t hurt me, my love.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“I…I liked it.” You felt your face heat up at the admission. “It felt really good.” You chuckled giddily, and Rain relaxed a little but you could still see him beating himself up about it mentally. “That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.” His eyes lit up at that, allowing himself to smile proudly at himself.

“Really?” He asked timidly, causing you to nod with a tired grin.

“You made me feel amazing. Only you, Rain. I knew I could trust you. If I didn’t like something, I would’ve told you. I promised, remember?”

Rain pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and holding you close. “Thank you.” He whispered sleepily, happy purrs rumbling in his chest, making it very difficult to stay awake.

You gave Rain a soft kiss on his chin as he fell asleep, his comfortable hold on you and purrs lulling you to sleep right after him.

~~~~~~~~~~

rain is baby

#the band ghost #the band ghost smut #the band ghost fanfic #ghost band #ghost band fanfiction #nameless ghouls #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghouls x fem!reader #rain ghoul #rain ghoul x reader #rain ghoul x fem!reader #rain ghoul imagine #rain ghoul smut

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her-satanic-wiles · 3 months

Text

Soul Stalker

Dewdrop/Sodo x Transmasc!Reader

In the eerie moonlit forest, you are ensnared in a nightmarish game of hide and seek with the malevolent entity Dewdrop, whose demonic force has targeted you. The chilling objective is to survive until sunrise, seeking refuge in the Ministry’s cabin deep within the sinister woods. With the dawn as your only salvation, you must navigate the haunted forest, outwit the relentless demon, and reach safety before Dewdrop claims you as his prize. The race against time intensifies, making the night unforgiving as you strive to survive until sunrise in this twisted pursuit.

Masterlist ⛧ Realm of Souls Masterlist

Commissioned by @dantesunbreaker

Words: 10.9k.

Reading Time: 40 min.

Warnings: biting, choking, comparing loss of breath to drowning, degradation, dubcon elements, face slapping, fear kink, fellatio, fingering, “forced” cum drinking, “forced” fellatio, fucked dumb, hide and seek, horror, knotting, masturbation, mean dom!Dew, mild praise, mind break, monster fucking, I’m in my element, objectification, pain kink, physical violence/fighting, PIV sex, predator/prey, rough fellatio, self choking, skull-fucking, transmasc!Reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), vaginal sex, violence

This is low key giving Shia LeBeouf Live by Rob Cantor and I’m not mad about it. Also, kind of exaggerated like hentai, sorry not sorry.

Taglist: @dantesunbreaker @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @namelesshumanperson @gorie-talks-a-lot

🔞 MDNI 🔞

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

You wanted to see. You’d asked him to show you because you didn’t think it would be this bad. As literal demons walking around the Ministry, the Ghouls were tame. Good. Calm. You’d never feel afraid of one, especially Dewdrop. But there you were, squashed into a narrow broom cupboard - more akin to a coffin than a cupboard - with your hand over your mouth and trying desperately to calm your breathing. As you’d asked, Dew had let the full demon out - and this twisted game of hide and seek became more high-stakes than you’d anticipated. At any point you could stop, just by screaming one word Dew would resume control again and return to his human-adjacent personality. But there was something about the fear, the predator hunting you down with eyes darker than night, sharp claws and teeth that could rip you to shreds if Dew didn’t have the control he promised you, that kept you from tapping out too soon. The game was on, the stakes were high, and your heart rate was out of control.

Your mind raced with thoughts - Dew was right behind you a moment ago: your screams echoing as you ran through the Ministry like your life depended on it, because it quite possibly did. Where was he now? Why did he let you escape? He should have been there, chasing you to the dead end and claiming his prize… so why was it quiet? Was he waiting you out? Was he outside? You pressed your ear to the thin door and listened for something, anything, to tell you that he was waiting. His breathing, his chuckling, something.

Nothing.

You rested your hand on the door handle and pushed it down gently… slowly… silently. You opened it briefly, your body tense and prepared to run if you needed to. The door cracked open a small bit and you expected to see Dew’s unmasked face in the slither.

Nothing.

You got braver, opening the door just enough to stick your head out. You peeked left. Right.

Nothing.

Dread pooled in your stomach. You looked up.

Nothing.

“___.” He called, your name ringing on his lips like a twisted song. It was quiet. Distant. But too close for your liking. Quickly and quietly, you retreated back into the cupboard, closing the door with a hushed click. You held your breath. Listening. Waiting. “Where is he?” He asked, his voice more sinister than the tune he sang your name in. But still, it was soft, as though he were trying to draw you out in comfort. Lull you into his stomach. “Where’s my lovely… little… boy?”

You could hear his heavy boots clunk against the carpeted floors. Slow, deliberate steps amplified by the late time and all the Siblings tucked away in their beds, warm and safe from Dew’s wrath.

“I can smell you.” He told you. “I can smell your fear, ___.” You heard his claws scrape along the walls. “It smells divine.” He began trying each door along the corridor, tugging at the handles and swinging open the unlocked ones, grunting in frustration when you didn’t appear. That was when you realised, you didn’t lock the door. You put your hand on the lock and turned it, grateful that this room had the ability to lock it from the inside and you waited - listening to Dew getting closer and closer.

As Dew’s claws scraped against the walls, the scent of terror became an irresistible aroma for him, bringing him ever closer. The sound of the door handle being tried made you freeze in fear, the lock your only pitiful defence against the impending nightmare that awaited you in the Ministry’s shadowed halls.

With a gut-wrenching creak, the cupboard door shifted slightly as Dew applied force from the outside. Panic surged within you, and you held your breath, praying that the lock would hold. The eerie silence outside shattered as Dew’s low growl permeated the air. You gasped, but kept your hand over your mouth, praying that he didn’t hear you.

“I know you’re in there, my pet,” he hissed, the sinister undertone of his voice sending shivers down your spine. “There’s no hiding from me.”

The tension in the narrow space escalated as the door handle continued to rattle, Dew’s frustration evident in every metallic clang. Your mind raced, searching for an escape route or a hiding place within the cupboard that might shield you from his malevolent gaze.

Just as you felt the lock strain under the relentless assault, a sudden diversion disrupted Dew’s pursuit. A distant sound, a creak or a moan, drew his attention away momentarily. The cupboard’s door ceased its ominous rattling, and you could almost sense Dew’s predatory focus shifting elsewhere. You willed him away, silently praying and pleading for him to disappear.

In the stifling darkness, you hesitated, caught between the desperate urge to escape and the paralyzing fear of making a noise. Dew’s voice echoed in the corridor, distant but filled with malicious intent.

“I’ll find you, ___,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver down your spine. “No corner in this Ministry can keep you from me.”

Taking advantage of the momentary respite, you carefully cracked the cupboard door open, your eyes scanning the dimly lit corridor. Dew’s footsteps echoed in the distance, drawing him away for now. With cautious steps, you emerged from the confinement of the cupboard, acutely aware of every creaking floorboard beneath your feet.

The ominous atmosphere enveloped you as you navigated the dimly lit corridor, each step a gamble between the safety of the shadows and the exposure to Dew’s relentless pursuit. The scent of fear lingered, a haunting reminder of the stakes in this demonic game of hide and seek.

You had to navigate the Ministry quickly but silently, keeping your toes light and your eyes and ears peeled for movement or sounds. You’d chosen midnight to play the game, knowing that the corridors would be quiet and you’d be able to avoid the traffic of the rest of the Ministry. And as Dew was only focussed on your scent, he’d gun for only you - hunt only you.

Turning a corner, your eyes flared as you caught a glimpse of activity in the distance. A fleeting shadow flickered along the edge of your vision, making your heart skip a beat. Fear rushed through your veins as you pressed against the cold stone wall, disappearing into the darkness like a spectre. The footsteps, rhythmic and deliberate, approached from around the corner. The shape of Dew’s thin figure appeared, his demonic aura producing an unsettling glow that twisted the air around him. His eyes, dark as the abyss, swept the passageway for any sign of your presence.

In the oppressive silence, you held your breath, praying that the darkness concealed you effectively. Every muscle tensed as Dew’s gaze lingered, seemingly aware of your proximity. The fear that had gripped you in the broom cupboard returned with a vengeance, clawing at your insides. Dew approached, mixed with the aroma of malevolence. The corridor seemed to narrow as his predatory senses zeroed in on the location where you had hidden yourself. Panic threatened to overtake you, compelling you to run, but deciding whether to reveal yourself became a tactical decision, a high-risk bet in the fatal pursuit. Despite your brain screaming at you, you held your ground, disappearing into an alcove without a door and remained still.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Suddenly, his form was right in front of you, illuminated by the glow of the candles. His long, silky blonde hair fell around his horns, and you couldn’t help but notice his otherworldly beauty despite the dire situation you were in. He could smell you - you know he could, any moment now he’d turn and he’d look at you.

He stepped closer towards the alcove, his nose sniffing like a dog as it searched, picking up your fear. You’d rested your hand on the stone, leaving your scent there, giving him a place to anchor onto. He sniffed, his nose getting closer and closer to your scentprint, and, with a growl, his long, demonic tongue emerged and licked the stone, tasting the sweat that had contaminated the brick. It was unsettling to watch, the way he allowed his tongue to feel over every nook and cranny, every bump of the brick. But he’d got a taste for you now.

Suddenly, his eyes flicked towards you, scanning the darkness before a smile appeared on his lips. “Hello, Brother.” He said, ominously, his mouth curving up into a wicked smile. He hovered over you, pinning you into the corner. Despite the petiteness of his stature, in that moment he was very oppressive, seeming to tower over you as you shrank back in fear. His sharp claws gripped at your body, and began to gather your black, monastic habit up at your hip, slowly exposing your body to the elements. He delighted in your fear - almost fed off of it. Enjoying every second you gave yourself to him, willingly or fearfully. It didn’t matter. He’d won. “I’ll claim my prize now.” He told you, those same claws running alongside the seam of your underwear and ripping them in half, allowing them to fall on the floor.

You could feel yourself growing wet at being caught by him, the pools of blackness where his eyes should have been mesmerising you into submission. Hypnotising you into letting him do what he wanted now that he had you. Your knees buckled as you felt him swipe over your bundle of nerves, uncaring where his claws landed. He chuckled when he felt your slick, using his other hand to hold up your robes while he sucked your essence off his hand. “Aren’t you a filthy little boy, hm?” He taunted, relishing the taste of you on his demonic tongue. “Getting wet from being caught. Just give yourself to me,” he moved back to your slit and began stroking, this time adding pressure and making you cry out, “lose the game, little one. I can show you pleasures my human form couldn’t possibly.”

“I w-won’t lose.” You stuttered, your hips moving of their own free will. Your mind didn’t want to lose, but now that Dew had you in his grasp, you couldn’t bring body to tear itself away from him. Giving in would mean he won. Cumming on his fingers like you so, desperately wanted to do would mean he won. But the mewls and whimpers that were escaping your lips were telling the truth, and Dew knew it. He had you, and there was nothing for it.

“Maybe, I’ll stick my cock into this tight, wet, heat, hm? Have you begging for it like the whore I know you are.”

The way his finger ran over your folds was enough to drive you crazy. Your hands gripped onto his skin as your eyes shut tight, hips bucking wildly against his hand and moans tumbling from your lips. You wanted to cum so badly, he’d got you so close already because of the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You wanted his fingers to dip inside you and fuck you, tapping against that spot only he had been able to reach.

Dew in demonic form was much scarier up close; obsidian eyes from corner to corner, pointed ears and long, goat-like horns that helped his face look like an inverted pentagram. His teeth were sharp, all of them jagged at the end as though he were some kind of shark. He smelled entirely of sulfur, of the Hells themselves, and such a smell shouldn’t be appealing, and yet, on him, it was glorious.

“Dew!” You whimpered, your voice growing louder with each passing second. You didn’t care if anyone heard anymore, at this point you were too far gone.

“That’s it, my precious boy. Give yourself to me. Give everything you have to me.”

No, you couldn’t let him win. In a moment of bravery (or stupidity), your knee collided with his balls and in his distraction, you pushed him aside and ran for it, your habit falling as you escaped him.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you darted away from the alcove, propelled by a surge of adrenaline. The echo of Dew’s pained groan mixed with the sinister laughter that followed you, echoing through the dim corridors of the Ministry. Panic gripped you, urging you to push through the terror and escape the clutches of the demonic entity. As you sprinted through the labyrinthine halls, you could hear Dew’s enraged footsteps behind you. His voice, now a guttural growl, reverberated through the air. “You can’t escape, Brother. I always get what I want.” His words were laced with a perverse satisfaction, and the threat hung heavy in the air.

The staircase loomed before you, a darkly illuminated plummet into the depths of the Ministry. Each stride you took carried the echo of your racing heart. The flickering lighting produced strange shadows on the walls, producing a bewildering dance of light and darkness that reflected the insanity in your head. As you descended, the air became colder, and the harsh atmosphere of the demonic hunt persisted around every turn. The walls appeared to close in, and the darkness got more ominous. Dew’s haunting, predatory laughter rang from above, tempting you to walk faster.

When you reached the lowest level, you found yourself in a dim corridor leading to the kitchen. The scent of stone walls combined with the distant aroma of past dinners, creating a bizarre sensory overload that only added to your worry. The corridor seemed to continue indefinitely, a terrifying road pushing you deeper into the unknown. Your footsteps resonated like sinister drumbeats, echoing along the stone corridors. The flickering candles created uneven shadows on the symbols, making them appear to dance illicitly.

As you approached the kitchen, the dark atmosphere intensified. The massive door stood before you, a portal to potential safety, and you pushed it open with frantic might. The kitchen, which was normally a source of warmth and sustenance, suddenly felt like a haven from the demonic creature that chased you, despite the cold and lifeless energy that exuded from it.

The room was dimly lit, with old wooden tables and abandoned cooking utensils casting eerie silhouettes. The scent of stale air mixed with the remnants of forgotten meals hung in the stillness. You ran towards the door, hoping you could escape through the back. But your stomach dropped at the realisation that the door had been locked, and this time there was no key to use to escape. You scanned the room for a hiding spot, your eyes darting between the dark corners and the silent gloom that clung to the walls.

Dew’s growls resounded along the hallway, as his footsteps became harder to ignore. Your movements were driven by panic as you looked for cover, eventually taking shelter behind a huge table that was flipped over. Your terror was suppressed by the adrenaline pumping through your system, but even still, it lay wide awake as Dew swung the doors open. Breathing heavily, you crouched behind the table, desperately trying to control the erratic rhythm of your heartbeat. The flickering candlelight cast elongated shadows, playing tricks on your eyes and heightening the sense of imminent danger. The kitchen held an oppressive stillness, broken only by the distant echoes of Dew’s footsteps drawing nearer.

As you hid, you noticed a partially opened door leading to a pantry. The darkness within seemed like a tempting refuge, and you made a split-second decision to abandon your current position. Darting across the room, you slipped into the pantry and closed the door silently, enveloping yourself in pitch-black darkness. And this time, you made sure not to touch anything, and crouched behind multiple sacks of potatoes.

The air inside was thick with the musty scent of preserved goods. Boxes and cans lined the shelves, and your fingers fumbled in the dark as you sought a place to hide. Huddled among the supplies, you strained to listen for any signs of Dew’s approach. Time seemed to stretch agonizingly as you waited, the oppressive silence broken only by the faint sounds of Dew searching the kitchen. The demon’s guttural growls and muttered curses added to the suspense, amplifying the horror of the situation.

Suddenly, the pantry door creaked open, and you held your breath. Dew’s silhouette loomed in the doorway, his demonic presence sending shivers down your spine. His predatory gaze scanned the darkness, and you dared not move, praying that the pitch-blackness would conceal your presence. For a moment, it felt as if time had frozen. Dew’s eyes flickered over the pantry, his sharp senses on high alert. The air in the confined space became heavy with tension, and you could almost feel his gaze piercing through the darkness.

Then, with an unsettling chuckle, Dew withdrew, leaving the pantry door ajar. The relief was palpable, but you knew the respite would be short-lived. The demon was relentless in his pursuit, and the game of hide and seek persisted with an intensity that surpassed any nightmare.

You carefully pushed open the pantry door and glanced into the kitchen as Dew’s footsteps receded into the distance. For a while, it looked like the coast was clear, so you took advantage of the chance to continue your escape, making your way through the maze-like passageways of the Ministry while the sound of Dew’s chuckle lingered in your ears. The night was filled with more horrors than you could have ever imagined, and the demonic being was far from defeated. As you left, you picked up some napkins from the open bag and stuffed them in your pocket. If your transferred scent could make it easier for him to find you, then you’d just have to deal with using tools to help.

The journey to the Ministry’s main entrance felt like a descent into lunacy. The dimly lit corridors twisted and swirled, each step evoking the frightening recollection of Dew’s chase. The air was overly silent, punctuated only by the groaning of ancient floors beneath your weight. The flickering candlelight created bizarre eerie shapes on the walls, twisting the familiar surroundings into hideous shapes that appeared to mock your desperate escape. The diabolical patterns engraved into the stone walls seemed to writhe with terrible energy, and their unnerving glow added to the eerie atmosphere. This was the first time you’d ever felt unsafe here, and you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to feel it again.

The path to the front entrance took you through spooky passageways hung with images of long-forgotten characters, their gaze seemingly tracking your every step. The silence was hostile, interrupted only by the distant echoes of Dew’s walking as he continued his unrelenting pursuit somewhere off into the distance, but far too close for comfort. The foreboding atmosphere added to the sense of impending doom, and your breath stuck in your throat with each step.

As you approached the entryway, the blackness appeared to deepen, engulfing the flickering flame and throwing the passage into near darkness. The suffocating air clung to your skin, and a chilly perspiration covered your palms as you grappled for the front door handle. To your disappointment, the door resisted your attempts. It was locked, a barrier between you and the potentially safe outside world. Panic poured through you, and the realisation that you might not be able to escape from this wicked game settled like an anchor in your chest.

A horrible sound echoed across the hallway, a strange combination of Dew’s low growls and the frightening laughter that had grown synonymous with your tormentor. The demon was closing in, and the front entry, which had once been a source of hope, now appeared to be the portal to a hellish doom. Desperation drove your actions as you searched for a key, a method to unlock the door and escape the Ministry’s evil grip. The distant echoes of Dew’s approach became louder, his ravenous presence drawing ever closer. Dark figures appeared to creep over the floor, reaching for you like the tendrils of an unknown nightmare.

With shaky hands, you continued your desperate hunt for an escape route, the darkness of the corridor pushing in on you like a creature unto itself. As no key was available, you took a leaf out of Dew’s book and began trying doors, using the napkin you’d picked up from the kitchen earlier. This lead you farther and farther from the front entrance, but even so, there had to be some way out.

Finally, a door opened and you found your way inside, celebrating silently and shutting the door behind you. It wasn’t until you’d turned to lock it, you’d realised where you were. “Papa.” You said, looking at the photos of the late Papa Emeritus III’s past that sat framed on the drawers and shelves. Layers of dust hung in the air like ethereal strands, catching the meager light that filtered through the closed curtains. The atmosphere in the office was stifling, as if the very walls revealed the Ministry’s secrets. The air was dense with strange silence, interrupted only by the slight creaking of the floorboards beneath your cautious steps. A sense of intrusion washed over you, as if the room contained a memory that should be kept private. The place appeared stuck in time, unaffected by the passage of days or years. Forgotten papers were thrown around the desk, their contents concealed by collecting dust. An exquisite chair stood behind the desk, covered in a faded velvet covering reminiscent of a former period.

Your eyes were drawn to the window, a feeble source of outside illumination in the darkness of the room. The curtains, heavy with neglect, clung to the window frame like cobwebs. As you approached, the outside world came into focus, revealing a distorted view of the moonlit landscape beyond. And, much to your relief, the window was unlocked.

You lifted the sash, and climbed out, body shivering in the cold night and the snow that was falling onto your body. As you turned to close the window, you heard Papa Terzo’s clock strike the hour. You were only two hours into the onslaught, but you were outside, now fearing the horrors that awaited you between the trees.

The landscape beyond the Ministry grounds was eerily still. The moon threw an ethereal tint on the freshly fallen snow, transforming the environment into a strange dreamscape. The trees, their branches heavy with winter frost, stood like quiet guardians in the moonlight. You felt fear as you took your first steps into the unknown. The crunch of snow beneath your boots reverberated through the silence, each step a reminder of the desolation that surrounded you. The woods, once a haven of peace, now harboured the threat of unseen horrors.

Two hours into the night, and the ordeal had only just begun. The moon hung like a spectral lantern in the sky, casting long shadows that played tricks on your senses. The snowfall intensified, creating a hushed symphony that accompanied your every step.

Fear gnawed at the edges of your consciousness as you ventured deeper into the forest, the path ahead obscured by the interplay of moonlight and shadow. Every rustle of the leaves, every distant howl of the wind, sent shivers down your spine. The horrors that awaited between the trees became an unknown; a nightmare that unfolded with each passing moment.

With the Ministry now a distant silhouette against the night sky, you pressed on, driven by the urgency of survival and the haunting awareness that Dew was still looking for you within the walls of the Ministry, and he hadn’t realised you’d escaped.

As you descended deeper into the haunted woods, the covering of snow beneath your boots muffled your footsteps, producing an eerie silence that heightened your sensation of loneliness. The starry path ahead twisted and curved, and the skeletal limbs of the trees appeared to stretch out like spectral fingers, throwing lengthy reflections on the snow-covered ground. The chilly air bit at your skin, and your breath created crystalline clouds in the icy night. The haunting beauty of the surroundings contrasted dramatically with the dread that clung to your every move. You couldn’t shake the impression that unseen eyes were watching, and the forest’s silence served as a canvas for the echoes of your pounding heartbeat.

You trekked through the snow, the smothering stillness broken by the distant howl of the wind, which carried an unsettling melody that appeared to mirror the malevolence hiding in the night. Every crunch of snow beneath your boots felt like a drumbeat, a reminder that you were an invader in a land where invisible evils thrived. The moon, now your only source of light in the ink-black sky, projected a pale glow on the snowflakes, resulting in a bizarre landscape that blurred the line between reality and horror. The woods seemed to shut in on you, their twisted shapes taking on a bizarre look that stoked your growing unease. However, with each step, a weird determination replaced the fear. The fact that Dew was still unaware of your escape provided a ray of optimism. The dense forest, however menacing, provided an opportunity for evasion; a brief respite from the evil entity’s persistent pursuit.

You paused, uncertain which way to go when the route ahead split into two. You felt as though the starry branches above were whispering secrets, telling you to make your decision wisely. You were surrounded by silence, only broken by the gentle patter of falling snow and the distant rustle of unseen creatures. Your desire for survival drove you to make a choice despite the uncertainty surrounding it. However, in the unlikely event that this went wrong, all you knew was that Dew would most likely track you down. The trek continued under the moonlight, each step filled with suspense as the mysteries of the winter night’s embrace revealed the horrors that lay beyond the trees.

You were heading to the cabin on the grounds of the Ministry - a much smaller place where you felt like you could defend yourself easier, despite it being so far out. It didn’t matter, really - you were a human going up against a demon. There wasn’t much you could do until the sunlight when the game had finished.

Suddenly, the crack of a tree branch sent shivers down your spine - this crack was closer than the others, much closer and it came from behind you. You fought the instinctive urge to look round, the need to know for sure what that was becoming almost too great to handle. But you also couldn’t bear the idea that Dew had found you so soon. You froze in your tracks, keeping as still as possible despite the fact that you were so, clearly visible at that moment.

The snow crunched behind you, as if a foot had stepped on it. A solitary step in the quiet of the forest. You held your ground and fought against any movement that would reveal where you were, the frigid air seeping into your lungs. The snow around you appeared to sparkle with a sinister radiance under the moon, creating long shadows that deceived your senses.

Another step, and the tension in the air became palpable.

You could now hear the sound of breathing as the crunches got louder and louder, until, eventually, the breaths began to fall on the back of your neck. In your blind panic, you covered your neck with your hand and spun around, eyes frantically searching the treeline for anything that might have made that noise.

Nothing.

Look up, something told you from inside.

The shadow was of a man crouching on one of the branches, impossibly balanced on such a thin branch. You could see his silhouette perfectly as he maniacally gazed down at you. You couldn’t see his eyes, given that they, too, were black. But you could feel them on you. The realisation only lasted a moment before he jumped down at you from his high branch. You barely had the time to turn before he had you buried in the snow, face down into the cold and his body pinning you down. You were writhing beneath him, your nose barely above the snow and your face damn near frozen solid. You did everything you could to fight against him, but he was too strong - mostly because he was in his demonic form. But, from above you, all you could hear was his cackling and chuckling at your struggling.

“Keep fighting me,” he told you, his voice deeper than usual and darker; much, much darker, “I like it when you fight me.”

“L-let go of me!” You shouted, your teeth chattering from the cold.

“And lose my prey? Where would the fun be in that?”

He got off you momentarily so he could flip your body onto your back. Even if you could breathe now, the shock of the cold made you weaker. Weaker, but not unable to fight back. In that moment, you took the opportunity to kick him again, this time your foot collided with his face hard enough to shock him, but not hard enough to do some damage. You flipped, and tried to stand up, even giving yourself enough lower body strength to run a little. But, you felt Dew’s sharp claws dig into your leg and pull you back across the snow.

“You know, you make me so much harder when you’re scared.”

“‘m not scared!” You lied.

He leaned down on top of you, pinning you into the snow. His long tongue came out and licked your cheek all the way to your ear. In a low voice, he told you, “I can taste it on your skin. The smell of your fear helped me find you.” He moved one of his hands down to your core and squeezed. “You wanted me to find you, didn’t you?”

You did. Fuck, you did. As scared as this whole chase made you, it didn’t matter. Even with fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins you wanted him completely. You wanted to spread your legs for him right there in the snow and let him have his way with you - let him win the game, if only to feel him balls deep inside you, rearranging your guts in a way his human form always held back.

Dew always let the darkness take over when he was in his demonic form, always suppressed any of that stereotypical humanity that made him so sweet and lovable - the reason you fell for him. Unlike the other Ghouls, he rarely shifted, which would hurt his mental state in the long run. For the other Ghouls, regularly shifting allowed them to retain their “humanity” in demonic form - in essence, they could control themselves and wouldn’t become bloodthirsty beasts, sacrificing others for Satan’s pleasure. But Dew was different. He could never control himself in the same way the others could, and the longer he stayed out of his demonic form, the worse it got.

You’d told him that you could handle it, that it was important for him to shift and learn to control himself. You’d told him you could trust him. Was a lot of this spurred on by the fact that you wanted him to fuck you in his demonic form? Absolutely. But once you learned how important it was, you began to worry that you were holding him back, and damaging him in the process. This whole conversation sparked an argument, that was only settled when the game was suggested… by you. And he’d agreed.

And now, here you were, pinned beneath him with his fingers stroking over your soaked core, feeling your own sanity slipping away at the callouses that rubbed you so deliciously.

Do whatever it took to get away from him.

You fought him some more when you’d come to your senses, pulling his arm and removing his hand from you. Another slap, another kick, and you’d gone before he had the chance to recover, running through the snow to get to that cabin.

Your breath came in sharp gasps, the cold air making your terror obvious. The thicket seemed to be attempting to entangle you in its nightmare as you pushed through, its branches seemingly reaching out to grab hold of your habit and snaking around you. The landscape was warped into a confusing maze as the shadows moved in frightening patterns. A chilly wind blew across the woods, bringing the eerie sounds of Dew laughing with it. His presence appeared to warp the entire fabric of reality, like an ominous shadow that was always there. Panic gripped you, urging you to run faster, to escape the clutches of the demonic entity that hungered for you.

You felt as though the forest was closing in on you, the trees acting like dead spectators to your desperate escape. The horrors that hid within were hidden by the abyss-like darkness that spread between the trunks. The fear that pursued you was heightened by each snap of a twig and each rustle of leaves, intensifying the adrenaline-driven pulse in your chest. You cast a quick glance over your shoulder and saw Dew’s shape in the moonlight, his eyes shining with an otherworldly evil. With an uncanny speed, the monster closed the distance, unaffected by the barriers that stood in your way.

A scream, half-strangled by fear, clawed at the back of your throat. The thought that there might not be a way out of Dew’s unrelenting pursuit was like a crushing weight on your chest. With every step you made, the forest felt more like a trap closing in on you, drawing you more into the diabolical nightmare.

Through the dense foliage, the dim glimmer from the cabin’s windows flickered like a far-off light of hope. Your legs began to pump more forcefully as a result of the sight, propelling you through the snow-covered forest and towards the prospect of a makeshift haven. The cold air burned in your lungs, but you were driven forward by terror of Dew’s unrelenting pursuit. The cabin appeared to emerge gradually from the darkness, with each stride defining its outline more clearly. The snow-covered walkway leading to its entrance had a ghostly glimmer from the moon. The unsteady ground could have easily caused you to stumble, but the need to get away drove you along, breathing heavily and irregularly now.

The haunting echoes of Dew’s pursuit grew louder behind you. His evil laughter cut through the chilly night, resonating between the trees in a chorus of evil. The fear that seized every step was heightened by the feeling that you were being chased by a demon who’d been summoned from the pits of Hell - to play guitar of all things. The snow seemed to be working against you as you got closer to the cottage. Through the thick forest came the distant thud of Dew’s footfall, getting closer and closer. Severe panic struck, and you threw a quick check over your shoulder, only to see his shadow moving closer.

The cabin’s door stood before you, a portal to potential safety. You sprinted towards the entry, your power amplified by adrenaline, and fumbled with the lock, flinging the door open. The inside warmth provided a momentary relief from the stinging cold, but the anxiety persisted because Dew was quite literally a few feet away.

You heard him thud against the door as you stumbled inside and slammed it shut behind you, locking it just in time. The wooden wall seemed weak in the face of the otherworldly energy chasing you. The cabin seemed to be a flimsy fortification, protecting you from the dangers that waited in the wintry darkness. A strange wind shook the windows, and the air within seemed to move in time with Dew’s evil chuckles, making the place feel stifling and heavy on your breath.

It dawned on you, as you gasped for air in the dark inside, that you were not alone. With his laughter a terrifying preface to the unrelenting pursuit that had turned into an unavoidable nightmare deep within the snow-covered woodland, Dew’s presence loomed just outside.

From the other side of the cabin door, Dew’s voice slithered through the wood like a serpent, a sinister melody that sent shivers down your spine. “Come out, little one,” he hissed, the words dripping with a malevolent blend of amusement and hunger. “So, you thought this feeble cabin could save you from me?” Dew’s voice dripped with amusement, the words weaving through the air like a dark incantation. “Did you really believe you could outsmart me, little one?”

The mocking tone cut through the silence within the cabin, reminding you that this all seemed useless. The demonic entity reveled in the revelation that you had unwittingly confined yourself within the very trap you thought would offer protection. “You’ve locked yourself in, and now there’s nowhere left to run,” he continued, the malevolence in his voice intensifying. “Just wait until I get my hands on you.

“Do you want me to tell you what I’m going to do to you?” You heard a slam on the roof, and jumped at the noise. “Do you know all the ways I’m going to make you scream?”

You glanced at the clock, its hands ticking away the agonizing moments. Dawn was fast approaching and the realization hit you—three more hours of enduring the demonic onslaught. The cabin, once a potential sanctuary, now felt like a prison where time stretched into an eternity, each passing second carrying the weight of impending horror.

Dew’s voice, laced with a perverse excitement, slithered through the confined space of the cabin, each word a grotesque brushstroke painting a vivid picture of the torment he envisioned.

“I want to hear you scream,” he rasped, the words carrying a disturbing hunger. You saw him run past one of the windows from the corner of your eye. “To feel your fear, your desperation. I want to revel in the music of your screaming.”

A sinister chuckle punctuated his words, echoing the sadistic pleasure he derived from the impending cruelty. “Do you know the exquisite pain of anticipation? The way your heart pounds, the cold sweat that coats your skin? I relish every moment leading up to the finale of your suffering.”

Dew hovered outside the cabin like an evil spirit from hell, his raptor’s eye fixed on the building that was now both your haven and your prison. The demonic figure turned around the cottage, a silent hunter enjoying the macabre game, and the snow-covered landscape witnessed his threatening silhouette.

With his claws, he scraped the walls of the cabin, creating a frightening rhythm that echoed through the silent night. Through the darkness, you could see the predatory delight in his eyes, which told volumes about the sadistic pleasure he took in torturing you. And you realised under that gaze, that your thighs were clenching together so tightly, they were beginning to ache.

“I can almost taste your fear,” he hissed, the words carrying on the frigid breeze. “Do you feel the inevitability of your demise, little one? There’s no escape. Nowhere to hide from the darkness that I bring.”

Dew kept stalking around the cabin, frightening and teasing. With an inhuman power, he pounded on the glass, the reverberation echoing through the wood like a sinister drumming. His ominous laughter seemed to be carried by the howling wind, adding a haunting element to the terrifying scene.

A deep silence fell, in stark contrast to the prior chorus of torment. The eerie quiet seemed to last indefinitely, producing an unpleasant tension that lingered in the air like a physical weight. Dew’s predatory dance around the cabin came to an abrupt end. The night held its breath, as if even the elements were hesitant to disturb the strange silence that had descended upon the snow-covered landscape.

The absence of his taunting and the eerie echoes of his presence created an unsettling stillness. It seemed as if the night’s spirit had been suppressed, replaced with an apprehensive stillness.

The sudden end of Dew’s movements left you in suspense, wondering why he’d stopped. The cabin felt like a refuge enveloped in stifling silence; the only sound left was the distant howl of the wind, whispering whispers through the skeletal trees.

You took tentative steps towards the window, compelled by an instinctive urge to check Dew’s presence or absence in the eerie silence that covered the cabin. The floor creaked under your weight, each sound reverberating in the silence like a muffled drumbeat.

As you looked through the frost-kissed glass, all you could see was the bleak endlessness of the snow-covered forest. However, there was no trace of Dew.

Uncertainty gnawed at you, and the silent unease inside the cabin reflected the peaceful stillness of the frigid night. Was this a respite, a brief pause, or the calm before another storm of horror? The questions continued, and your heart couldn’t calm down.

An unexpected, explosive crash broke the fragile peace within the cabin. The door, ripped from its hinges, flew through the air, leaving Dew standing in the gaping doorway. His intimidating presence radiated malevolence, a dark silhouette framed by the smashed entrance.

The evil entity’s eyes sparkled with an unfathomable intensity as he studied the limited area. The morbid game of hide and seek had reached an unsettling end. Dew’s lips curved into a nasty smile, a grotesque victory imprinted on his face.

“Will you run from me now, Brother? Or will you get on your knees for me like the good whore I know you to be?”

You tried to make a break for the door, knowing that you wouldn’t make it, but even so, the intention was there. Dew, of course, gripped hold of your body and wrestled you to the ground. He admired your helpless body lounging there on the hard, wood floor, reveling in the fear he could smell and how wide-eyed you were. He stood above you, mighty and powerful.

His hand reached his trousers and undid the zipper and button, pulling them halfway down his thighs. His underwear too, allowing his erection to spring free.

Demonic Dew was huge. So big you weren’t entirely sure you could take him. His cock looked vaguely similar to a human’s except for the size and the blunt ribbage down both sides of the shaft. The colour too, a dark grey at his pubic mound, tapering off into a light grey that spread in a gradient of a blush pink at the tip. A thick, grey knot sat at the base just above the pubic mound that had a pit forming in your stomach. He was going to make you take that - you just knew it.

“Knees.” He commanded. Both your fear and arousal worked in tandem to propel you to your knees, sitting patiently for him like a dog waiting for his master. “Suck it all down that throat of yours.”

You placed your hands on your thighs and leaned forward. Your tongue appeared from behind your cracked lips and made contact with the head of his cock, purely to help guide it into your mouth. Once it had lined up, you moved your head forward and sucked the head in. Dew hissed at the feeling of your warm mouth encapsulating him, but it wasn’t anywhere near enough.

His hand tangled in your hair and he pushed you down as far as you could go, making your lips touch the base of his cock. He was forceful enough that you couldn’t fight back easily, but slow enough not to hurt you. Dew could feel everything you gave him, the wetness of your mouth, the way you swallowed around his head.

His grip in your hair got tighter and he started maneuvering your head for you, watching you as you bobbed up and down his length. His hips couldn’t keep still and so eventually he just held your head in place and used your throat like his own personal toy. All the while, your eyes were watering and your face was getting redder and redder with exertion. He let you pull off for a second, and watched as you gasped desperately for air. Tears were running down your cheeks now, and your lips were beginning to swell so tantalisingly, he could feel himself losing what little control he had over himself. He couldn’t take it anymore; he wanted to see you struggle again and so he forced his cock back into your mouth.

He fucked your throat as roughly as he wanted because he knew you could take it - but he honestly didn’t care if you couldn’t. You were his prize, his to treat however he wanted to. And you’d accept everything with grace, and poise, and thank him for obliterating your throat afterwards.

He allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your throat, watching you take it all and struggle with it. The way your lips stretched around his tip was obscene enough, but with each rib that was fed to you and removed with a pop, he could barely contain himself. His toes curled in his boots, and a smile formed on his face. He chuckled as he fucked your throat, loving how you gave yourself so willingly to him in the end.

He looked down at the mess of you, at the sweat forming on your brow and your robes shaking from how hard he was ramming into you. It was then he saw your hand moving, dipping beneath the hem of your monastic habit and stroking yourself through it. Slow circles at first but once you saw he caught you, your fingers began to move over your wetness faster.

“Shit, look at yourself.” He began, his voice hoarse from his pleasure. “Working yourself while I fuck your tight little fucking throat.” He was speaking through gritted teeth at that point. “Do you like this? Do you like being treated like a common fucking whore? Hm?” He slapped your cheek and let go of you, pulling you off of him with a pop. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” Your voice was husky and weak from the amount of times he’d hit the back of your throat.

Dew began to grumble and growl, frustration evident in his noises. “Not tight enough.” He looked down at your other hand and realised it wasn’t doing anything. He wanted it elsewhere. “Take that fucking hand and choke yourself. Squeeze that fucking throat.” He instructed you as he fed his cock back into your mouth.

And you did. Using your thumb and three of your fingers, you placed your hand on your throat and squeezed from the sides adding more pressure and a tighter hole for him. He groaned and laughed in response, loving the extra tightness and shoving himself so far down your throat, you could feel his pubic mound bashing against your nose with each thrust. You knew Dew’s human form well enough to know when he was about to cum, and apparently his demonic form was just as similar. His thrusts were becoming more erratic and more violent, a clear sign that this side of him was about to cum down your throat without giving you a second thought. So, you began to touch yourself harder, rubbing at your bud faster and faster until you burst.

Your body stiffened as your orgasm washed over you, the world stilling around you with the exception of your fingers and Dew’s hips. You continued to touch yourself through the orgasm, trying your hardest not to bite down with Dew being so far down your throat, and the restraint of that action alone was enough to make your jaw ache even more. When you’d finished, you concentrated back on Dew’s cock, but it wasn’t long before he came too, pushing your head further into his body and giving a few, final, short, sharp thrusts before his cum was spilling down your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow it.

“Yeah, that’s it. Swallow it… down for me… Such a slutty boy, t-taking every fucking drop. Shit!”

He pulled out of you with a groan and you gasped desperately for the air he’d restricted from you, swallowing the leftovers and wiping your chin clean of any droplets of cum that had spilled out.

Once you’d regained control of your lungs, and you didn’t feel like you were drowning anymore, you chanced a look up at Dew. He still stood, towering above you with you on your knees, black eyes focused on your exhausted body and white fangs appearing over his dark red lips in a menacing smile. Your eyes roamed down his body to his cock, which was still as hard as ever - as if you’d never gone through all that. He was ready to take you again.

With little fight left in you, you let his hand push you back onto the floor, making you lie flat against the wood. He got on his knees and lifted your habit, exposing your dripping heat to him. He got on his knees in between your legs, and continued to smirk at you - he’d won and you both knew it.

He started to position himself above you, aligning with your sopping heat and using his cock to stroke your folds. Your fingers bit into the floor as oversensitivity set in, and your heart raced with expectation. He drew your hips closer to him, partially resting on his thighs, and laughed a little at the sound your body made as it was dragged against the floor. You didn’t feel particularly ready for his length inside you after feeling it down your throat, but you also didn’t want to stop him, anticipating the delicious pain that would come from his monstrous cock penetrating your walls and fucking you so deeply you could pass out. Dew could feel your core clenching around nothing, practically screaming for him to fill it. “You believed, little one, that you could outrun me?” He taunted as he rutted against you. “As naive and stupid as ever, it’s your own fault for running. If you had only submitted to me, I would have been nice to you. This will just hurt for a little while, so don’t worry.”

He loved the way your eyes lit up with a host of feelings before allowing your face to contort with the pleasure of him sliding his massive cock within you, inch by monstrous inch. You shook every time one of the ribs drove into you, pushing you even further and anchoring you completely to him. There was lust in your eyes, of course, savouring how each pop had you gasping for breath and tried to commit it to memory. But the pain was just as delicious as you expected, causing you to cry out so loudly, if anyone outside heard you, they’d think something awful was happening to you. Instead, you were being stuffed so full of an impossibly large demon cock, your body was almost shutting itself down to cope. You could already feel your mind clearing out of anything other than the current sensations.

Dew continued to make fun of you with each inch your horny centre swallowed. “Did that hurt? Good. I told you it would. Keep screaming for me like that, and I’ll pop my knot into you.”

Dew’s pace was just as rough as it was the first time, with him practically riding your body for his own pleasure. Every time he pulled out, you could feel the ribs of his cock popping out of you then forcing their way back in with each thrust, making you tighten around him so much, your body was trying to keep him where he was. Your back arched off the floor, so only your shoulders and arms were holding you upright, aside from Dew’s hands on your hips as he pounded into you, over and over again; but this allowed for your habit to ride up slightly and let him catch sight of your stomach, and how his cock was visible even underneath all the muscle, fat and flesh. How he was so big, he left an indent where he fucked you. No wonder you couldn’t focus on anything except for him. You allowed loud moans to fall from your lips, as the angle Dew fucked you at had his cock and it’s ridges hitting that spot each time, carving out a space for himself within your hole.

“I knew you fucking wanted this,” he told you, no longer using his hips to fuck you but moving your body quickly with his strong arms. “Wasted so much time. C-could’ve fucked you back there.”

Drool was pooling in the corner of your mouth, spilling outwards and down your cheek with each impeccable thrust. The further down his cock he worked you, the more you could feel his knot catching at your entrance. Silently, you wondered how that was going to fit inside you too. But your body was begging for it, pleading for that knot to force its way inside you.

Besides your screaming, your core was the loudest thing in the room. So wet, his cock splashed when it fucked into you as roughly as it did. You could feel it running down your ass cheeks and landing on the thighs of his jeans. And you didn’t need to look to know that you’d left a ring of white around the top of his knot, your pussy creaming as it took his cock over and over and over, loving each second.

You bit your lip and clutched onto his strong arms, those arms and hands holding onto your hips for support as he brutally ploughed into you, getting deeper and deeper till his tip reached your cervix and his shaft rubbed against that sweet place.

“You want it? You want this fucking knot inside you?” When you didn’t answer, he slapped your face again. “Fucking answer me!”

“Yes!”

“Beg for it, slut.”

You whimpered, you whined and you screamed for him, but a coherent sentence wasn’t something that you could put together verbally. In your mind, you had begged for it already, begged for his cum to fill you up. But your mouth wasn’t responding. Your body wasn’t responding. Nothing you did worked, except for your fingers running over yourself in sheer desperation for a second orgasm.

Dew just laughed at you, mocking you for your neediness, but he said nothing as he continued to bounce you on his cock, fingertips digging into your body as he maneuvered you exactly how he wanted, and eventually, his knot slipped inside.

You didn’t warn him when you came - you couldn’t. Your brain was too clouded to register anything and announce any more than a squeak before your body convulsed and spasmed around his cock, your eyes blacking out and your mouth open in a silent scream. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, all you could do was feel everything, everywhere, all at the same time.

This, being his final straw, tipped him over the edge a second time, his fangs digging into your stomach as he bent over, expelling the remainder of his energy through the chomp. It didn’t hurt - but it wasn’t as if you could feel it anyway.

You slowly opened your eyes to the soft glow of dawn seeping through the windows of the cabin. The air inside was cool, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of pine. As you lay on your back, you felt the worn wooden floor beneath you, and your body ached. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the curtains, you felt the warmth of the sun’s first rays gently caressing your tired limbs. The golden hues painted the room, casting a tranquil glow that danced across the wooden walls.

Turning your head, you caught a glimpse of Dew, curled up beside you in his human form, still lost in the world of dreams. But his senses were on high alert still and even the smallest movement of your body caused him to jolt awake. You winced as you tried to sit up, the soreness in your muscles protesting the movement. Dew stirred beside you, his eyes fluttering open as he sensed your shift.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice hoarse from sleep and the recent body change. His eyes, now back to the normal, beautiful green colour they usually were, locked onto yours with concern. “How are you feeling?”

A faint smile played on your lips as you reached out to gently stroke his tousled hair. “I’ve had worse days,” you replied, though the pain in your body betrayed your attempt at nonchalance.

Dew sighed, his expression reflecting the guilt he felt. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess,” he whispered, his eyes casting down. “I never meant for you to get hurt.”

You reassured him with a soft smile, “Dew, it’s not your fault. I told you I could handle it.”

“I shouldn’t have agreed.”

“Dew…”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. I pushed you when you were uncomfortable. I’m sorry. I should have listened to you. Not that I minded…” you cleared your throat awkwardly, “earlier.”

Dewdrop raised his eyebrows. “Well,” he exhaled, “I hope you remember it well because it won’t happen again.”

You sighed, disappointed, but nodded in understanding. His eyes met yours again, and you could see the conflict within him. “I just… I can’t stand seeing you in pain because of me.”

You shifted closer to him, embracing him gently. “We’re in this together, Dew. I chose to be by your side, no matter what comes our way. Pain is just a small part of the journey.”

He nodded, a mixture of gratitude and sorrow in his gaze. “I appreciate that, but I still wish I could protect you better.”

You chuckled softly, “You’re doing your best, and that’s all I can ask for. We’ll face whatever comes next, together. D-do you remember what happened?”

He sat up and slapped you playfully. “I remember you didn’t do as I fucking asked! What happened to, ‘get away from me at all costs and don’t let me fuck you?’”

“I saw your dick and couldn’t help myself.”

He hit you again.

“Alright, okay! I’m sorry.” You sighed. “I will miss it, though. Are you sure you can’t just do some exercises and shift like the other Ghouls?”

Dew couldn’t help but chuckle at your attempt to lighten the mood. “It’s not that simple,” he explained. “They’ve not spent as long in Hell as I have. It’s not just about exercises; it’s a mental and physical process that takes time to master. A lot of therapy will be needed that I’d have to return to Hell to get.”

You nodded, understanding the complexities involved. “I guess we’ll have to figure out a new plan then. Maybe find some other way to deal with those situations.”

Dew sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. I can’t always control it, and I don’t want to risk it.”

You gave him a reassuring smile. “We’ll find a way, Dew. Together. We always do.”

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m lucky to have you by my side. Even if I can’t protect you the way I want to, I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

As you both sat there in the warm glow of the morning sun, you knew that challenges lay ahead, but the bond between you and Dew was strong. Together, you were determined to face whatever came your way, finding solutions and supporting each other through the ups and downs of your journey.

Next Part ⛧ Realm of Souls Masterlist

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aestheticpearl · 25 days

Text

— ‘girl, you really got a hold on me.’

✧·˚ you ask for some soft sex with the ghouls and they try their best to give you that, some are better than others at following the rules

characters. dewdrop, rain, swiss, mountain, phantom

themes. smut

[gender neutral reader]

➳ dewdrop

definitely confused at first

needs you to guide him through it

(not that that’s anything new)

actually really enjoys going slow

he gets to see your reactions more clearly

relishes in how warm you feel around him

you’re almost always on top so you control the pace you go at

he likes to hold your hips just to make you move a bit faster or hit a better angle

he’ll rub circles on your hips with his thumbs while holding you

➳ rain

the king of soft sex

he prefers it over rough and fast

holds your hand no matter the position

always makes sure you’re comfortable in said position and that it feels good

your pleasure >>> his

love to lean in and kiss you when you’re both close

rests his head on your shoulder and gives your neck gentle kisses

says ‘i love you’ when he cums

rubs your sides as you come down from your high

➳ swiss

says he’s not good at ‘soft’ sex but is literally the gentlest

he knows how to praise

will always notice if you get too tense during a session

‘easy baby, easy you’re going to hurt yourself.’

unfortunately he can’t stop his teasing nature from leaking through

will stop moving until you relax

likes to hold you very close while thrusting into you

loves to reassure how good you’re doing

grunts and groans from how hard it is to hold back because how good it feels

➳ mountain

the prince of soft sex

only because he forgets his size sometimes and will accidentally slip up

like to keep it basic and put you in missionary

will hold your hand the whole time

he’ll lose himself in you and sometimes do faster by accident

just snap him out of it and he’ll instantly lock his focus on you again

loves kissing every part of you

loves kissing you honestly

will french kiss you for half the time he’s inside you if you let him

➳ phantom

he’s awful at remembering that this is supposed to be a soft sex session

you’ll have to guide his hips if you still want to bottom

if you manage to wrangle him and get on top he’ll whine the whole time with how slow you’re going

give him other forms of stimulation and he’ll get all sensitive and ask you to slow down

loves to top but when it comes to soft sex he loves when you take control

whiny mess when you stop because you say your legs hurt from the position

will try again to top and actually goes slow

ends up overstimulating himself

you pretty people miss me? ;)

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 4 months

Text

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 24. threesome

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “sharing is caring”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ sodo and rain learn to share their special gift

pairing: sodo ghoul x afab!reader x rain ghoul

a/n: to make up for the missed day i will try to make this fic one of my better ones 🙏 we’re almost done with the holiday hoes event !!!

cw: nsfw content. threesome. switch!sodo. dom!rain. sub!reader. spanking. oral sex (m receiving). piv sex. anal sex. degradation. double penetration.

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“look at you two… just a couple of filthy whores.. oh isn’t this just exciting?” —❤︎

“s-shut the fuck up…” —❤︎

┅✦┅

sodo swore he was seeing things for a moment.

the sight before him looked too good to be true.

but alas, a familiar voice ringed out, snapping the fire ghoul out of his trance and back into reality.

“don’t just stand there.” rain spoke with a snippy tone, sounding irritated from sodo’s presence.

“either you join in on the fun, or you get the fuck out.”

lord knows what force of satan possessed sodo to make him stay, but he did, silently and slowly shutting the door behind him. his eyes never tore away from the scene before him.

what a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. rain has you bent over in a doggy style position, webbed fingers tightly clamped onto your hips while his cock plowed into the rim of your ass, each thrust making you squeal in pure ecstasy. the fire ghoul’s eyes drifted down to the lower half of your body, and he could see how dripping wet you were, pussy leaking and begging for attention while the water ghoul behind you abused your ass with his dick.

rain noticed how his pack mate was staring at you, and he grinned wickedly, one of his hands flying down to smack your ass lewdly.

“gorgeous, aren’t they?” rain spoke with a velvety, slick tone, thrusts slowing down slightly so he can turn part of his attention to sodo.

the fire ghoul just nodded, and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “so this is what you’ve been doing for the holiday season?”

“yes, why? got a problem with it?” rain mused.

sodo scoffed, a sarcastic smirk evident on his face. “maybe. you couldn’t bother to share?”

“well i’m sharing now, aren’t i?” rain quipped back, thrusting in a particular angle that had you moaning into the sheets. “and i can see your dick straining in your pants. so come on, get over here and join in on the action.”

the fire ghoul just chuckled and started walking towards you both. “gladly.”

the fact that rain and sodo were just casually having a conversation like you weren’t being absolutely pounded into, it just got you going even more. your eyes were hazed and blurred with instinctive tears, slowly watching sodo make his way over to you while his calloused fingers undid the fly on his pants.

sodo got up on the bed and positioned himself in front of you, being sure that the front of his lower body was directly at your face. before you knew it, he had completely pulled down his pants and boxers, his hardened cock springing free from the restraints of his undergarments. the spitfire looked down at your lustful face, and smirked.

“like what you see?” he chuckled, one of his hands moving to grab onto the shaft of his dick, aligning it in front of your lips.

your eyes were dotted with stars while staring down at the chub of sodo’s cock. it was already leaking with precum and throbbing with need. damn, he got so turned on just from watching you and rain.

rain seemed to have noticed that you were very much star struck by the sight of sodo’s gorgeous dick. he growled, and thrusted into you hard, making you whine loudly.

sodo saw this and took this as an opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth while your lips parted, making you whimper in surprise from his shaft invading your mouth. though, your lips tightened around it, and sodo groaned with delight.

“fuck. that’s it.” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair to control your movements. “suck on it.”

the sensation of being fucked from behind by rain and sucking off sodo, it was so goddamn hot. to just be used and pleasured by these two incredibly sexy ghouls, it was a fantasy like no other. the eagerness was evident in the way you were sucking sodo’s cock, tongue swirling around the head and getting a good taste of that salty precum. the fire ghoul was definitely enjoying it too, given by how he was grabbing your hair and forcing you to go deeper while his pleasured sounds increased in volume.

while all this was happening, a certain water ghoul was observing you and the fire ghoul closely. rain chuckled lustfully as he watched sodo’s expression morph from arrogant promiscuity, to desperate and needy. sodo’s tongue hung out of his mouth as you sucked him off, and rain was reveling at the sight of you two.

“look at you two… just a couple of filthy whores.. oh isn’t this just exciting?” he chided with a lewd edge, grabbing one of your legs and hooking it around his waist from behind.

sodo let out a high pitched growl and moaned in response, gritting his sharp teeth together. “s-shut the fuck up…”

“oh you know it’s true.” the bassist responded, slapping your ass, a loud smack echoing through the walls and your moans quickly following after.

“you two are like dogs in heat. it’s pathetic, really.”

“h-hahhh… s-screw you rain… ahh..!”

rain was turning you and sodo into his bitches, using your bodies for his own personal pleasure. he liked watching the fucked out expressions on your face, and the blissed twinkle that shone in sodo’s eyes every time your tongue dragged across the most sensitive part on his dick.

eventually, sodo had enough and wanted to feel something better. removing his cock from your mouth with a popping sound, sodo had changed positions a bit.

grabbing your body and lifting your hips up, sodo positioned himself underneath you and aligned his cock along your glittering wet pussy. rain seemed to take notice of this, and smirked. while still inside of you, rain grabbed your thighs and spread them further apart, before forcing your cunt down on sodo’s cock, loud gasps rupturing from your guys’ throats.

your mind was being numbed from the feeling of two things penetrating both holes all at once. sodo was underneath you and sat up slightly, cows grasping at your thighs while he bucked his hips up into you. pleasured grunts fell from his lips as he did this.

“f-fuck you feel so good…” the fire ghoul praised, moving you deeper onto his length. you could only babble nonsensical words while he spoke to you.

rain looked down at the two of you and scowled lustfully. his hand gripped your hair and forced it up while he went to town inside of you.

“look at that, sodo.” rain chided, a promiscuous twinge evident in his voice. “see that face on them? you think that’s you making them feel this good?”

sodo snarled and rammed his hips up further into your tight cunt.

“what ever happening to sharing, rain?” he gritted, tail coiling around your thigh possessively.

“i am sharing.�� rain retorted. “was just statin’ the facts.”

“well i think that your ‘facts’ are complete and utter bullshit.”

the two ghouls snarled at each other, their cocks hitting deeper inside of you to try and prove that one was better than the other. you on the other hand, were forced to take it all.

after a bit of back and forth bickering, rain just smirked.

“you know what? how about we just keep fucking them, see who makes them cum the hardest, eh?” rain challenged, and sodo’s eyes fluttered in pleasure and intrigue, anger fading away for a moment.

“i know you like a good challenger after all, firefly. so how about it? wanna keep doin’ this like rabbits and see who gets them off the hardest?”

sodo took a moment to speak back, moaning in delight as he felt your pussy clamp around his cock more upon listening to rain’s words. he had a feeling you were getting excited just from hearing rain’s suggestions. looking directly at you, you gave sodo a haste nod, moaning from the way rain was pounding into you.

that was all the confirmation sodo needed.

“alright then.” sodo confirmed, returning rain’s wicked smirk. “challenge accepted, water boy.”

rain chuckled darkly, and slapped your ass again.

“then let’s do this.”

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#holiday hoes event #ghost bc #rain x reader #sodo x reader #rain x sodo #sodo smut #rain smut #nameless ghoul smut #smutty drabble #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost smut #christmas prompts #christmas

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p1nkcanoe · 7 months

Text

voulez-vous

[ dewdrop x rain smut ]

summary: dew is in rut and also a little out of his mind. warnings: dubcon, unglamoured ghouls, oral sex, anal sex, blood and fighting, gill play, and so many more (please read full tag list before reading) words: 7089

Click here to read on Ao3

#not a part of kinktober but I think I knocked out like 10 of the prompts with this one #dew x rain #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #dew x rain smut #ghost smut #the band ghost smut

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spacesurfing · 1 year

Text

Before Everyone Else

Summary: It's hard to accept that someone love you more than any one else. But Swiss won't let you go through that denial all on your own.

Warnings: angsty, insecurity

•--•

Swiss turned in his desk chair, dropping the pen so fast you would've though it was too heavy for his hand.

"What did you just say?" he asked, his voice stiff but his face soft as he tried to read your expression. Your eyes were welling up with tears and your heart felt like it was burning it's way through your ribcage.

"I said- I said that I'm not your favorite person," you said quietly, letting a tear slip from your eye. Your face scrunched up, everything in you convulsing as you felt your body tense, a sob making it's way from your chest.

Swiss stood up faster than you could count, standing in front of you immediately, looking down at your body crying, seated on the edge of his bed.

"Baby- Baby look at me," he said, hands holding you, touching all over your features as he cupped your jaw. He lifted your head up, seeing your face all sharp and defined, the quiver of your lip and the way your eyebrows creased, pushing together.

He could barely see you through your eyelashes, but he knew they were full to the brim with tears, multiple slipping from your eyes and directly onto this thumb, where he swiped them away.

The salty tears rubbed away into your skin as he tried to push them to the side, like he wanted to hide them away forever.

"Hey, you know that's not true-"

"No I don't! I don't! You don't love me like you love everyone else. If- If Satan took them all, sent them all back to Hell, and he gave you an option, you- you would go with them!" you cried harder, your core tensing.

He watched you hiccup and stream tears down your cheeks, watching you work yourself up, sucking in sharp breaths, choking on your tears like you'd throw up from the way they drowned you.

He sighed, knowing no sort of kisses could help this, no hugs could bring you down from your thoughts. Nothing but him.

"Who told you that? Cause I would never say that. I would never even think that," he pushed your hair behind your ears before taking you in his hands once again, "Sweetheart, I love you more than this whole damn ministry! I'd do anything for you, don't you go thinking I wouldn't. Things aren't the way your pretty head tells you they are."

You hiccuped again, eyes opening slightly as he watched you come down from your crying high, though the tears still falling told him you needed time.

He placed a hand on the back of your head, holding you against his torso, petting your head. And something inside of you must've broke when he held you like that, because he felt you sob harder, like you'd suffocate in the panic of it all.

But he knew from the way that your arms threw themselves around his waist that you believed him. Swiss felt his own eyes sting.

You'd never hugged him so tightly.

#ghost band x reader #ghost band x reader fluff #ghost band fluff #the band ghost x reader fluff #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost smut #swiss ghoul #swiss ghoul x reader fluff #swiss ghoul x reader #swiss ghoul fluff #swiss x reader #swiss x reader fluff #paula rants

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a-fools-circus · 8 months

Text

A Gift for Papa

Papa IV/Reader

Desc: During a time when you're unable to see each other, you decide to make a tape for Papa to watch when he misses you. Word Count: 2686 Tags/Warnings: reader has female anatomy, masturbation, dildo/sex toy, sex tape, established relationship, orgasm delay (self-inflicted), Google Translate Italian Minors DNI

you can also read on ao3 here!

Although he had entered his room with plans to relax for the evening, Copia freezes in his tracks as he spots his camera lying on top of his bed. Next to it lies a VHS tape, and while the actual tape is unmarked, a sticky note is stuck to the front. He immediately recognizes the handwriting on it as your own. Copia slides the piece of paper between his gloved fingers, reading the short note:

A little gift to make up for my absence. I miss you! ♡

Copia smiles at the note; so cute and undoubtedly you . His mind runs rampant as he wonders what could possibly be on the tape. Trying to picture what you —ever the creative soul—could have come up with seems nearly impossible.

A mixture of impatience and curiosity drives him to slide the tape into the VCR. Copia settles on the edge of his bed as the television turns on. His fingers tap against his knee in anticipation, his nerves heightened with intrigue.

The tape begins to play, and he's immediately greeted with the sight of you in your room. Your arms are raised, your face slightly off-screen as you fumble with the camera. Copia can't help but smile. He knows he'd do the same—technology is complicated, right?

He recognizes the plush expanse of your bed as you back up until you're in frame. You sigh as you sit on the mattress, taking a moment to ensure the camera before you is steady. You smile and wave at the camera. Copia can practically feel his heart swell.

'Hi Papa!' Your excited greeting emanates from the television. Copia leans forward to turn up the volume, not wanting to miss a single syllable that comes from your lips.

Your hands fold in your lap, portraying an image of innocence that he knows is just a façade. ' Uhm…I hope this isn't…weird or anything. And I hope you're not mad at me for stealing your camera.'

'I know you've been busy preparing for the tour and all of that. Which, first of all, I hope is going well.' You tilt your head as you speak. Copia notices how your hands fidget in your lap, rubbing together nervously (or maybe in anticipation?). 'But I figured I'd do a little something for you while you're…preoccupied. Y'know, while we're unable to really see each other.'

Another sigh leaves your lips. ‘So…I hope you end up liking it.’ Copia can feel his heartbeat quicken as he anticipates the unfurling of your plan. Your hands move to your back and, while the action is obscured, the faint sound of a zipper makes your movements known. His eyes are glued to the collar of your habit as it begins to loosen, slipping down to reveal your collarbone.

Copia blinks in surprise—bordering on disbelief—as you stand to slip your habit off of your body. You aren’t concerned with speed, taking your time to carefully slip your arms from the sleeves and pull the dress down over your curves. Every inch of skin you reveal sends a wave of heat through his body that pools between his legs. His breath catches in his throat as the fabric falls away.

Almost cursing at the sight, Copia leans back as you crawl back onto your bed with swaying hips. You’re wearing that lingerie that you know he loves because, fuck, it accentuates your curves so well. He watches your hands move over your body as you caress yourself through the thin fabric.

His cock is already practically straining against his pants. He can barely contain himself at the sight of your body, especially when it’s displayed so perfectly for him. And when you grope your chest, Copia’s fingers tingle with the familiar feeling of your supple skin under his touch.

Unable to resist any longer, Copia’s hand finds its way to the front of his pants, pressing gently against his pulsing arousal. A grunt rumbles in his throat at the friction. His eyes are practically glued to your hands as they run over the tantalizing expanse of your skin.

And when your hand daringly slides down the front of your body, a shiver of anticipation courses down Copia’s spine. Caressing the swell of your hip, your hand trails over your thigh, moving so smooth and careful that it’s almost mesmerizing. His heart pounds as your touch inches closer and closer to the irresistible bliss between your legs.

The sigh that spills from your lips as your fingers glide over your clothed heat makes his ears perk up. Copia squeezes his cock through his pants, palming himself in rhythm with your movements. He watches your hips roll and grind against the friction of your hand. You move in a captivating rhythm, so perfectly smooth; it reminds him of all the times you’ve been on top of him, bouncing and grinding on his cock.

You shuffle on your bed, moving to lie down. Copia mirrors your movements as he reclines on his own bed. You grab your thighs firmly to keep your legs spread wide open in front of the camera. It’s nearly impossible to miss the damp patch on your panties that betrays your need. A groan falls from his lips as you prop yourself up on your elbows to stare directly at the camera.

Copia takes in the image of lascivity you display, sighing as a hand runs over the soaked fabric. Your movements suddenly grow more daring as you dip your hand into your panties. The sound that leaves your mouth hits him hard, stirring every desire buried within him. His breath catches in his throat and his cock throbs with the aching need for satisfaction. Your other hand moves to grope your chest, kneading at the supple skin. Copia’s free hand flexes at the sight as he recalls how your body feels under his touch.

As he watches, Copia wishes so desperately that he could fully witness the sight of your arousal. He wants to see how wet you are for him, how swollen and aroused your clit probably is as you swirl your fingers over it. The sounds you make are depraved, amplified for the sake of the camera. Every single one makes his cock throb in his hand.

Your hand moves off of your chest to tug at your panties. Instead of pulling them off, like Copia had expected, you impatiently drag the fabric to the side, just enough to expose your glistening cunt. Your other hand pulls away to grab your thigh and spread your legs apart.

‘Look how wet I am for you, Papa…’

Your voice cuts through the silence. Copia nearly growls at the sight you splay before him. “Sì, cara…so fucking wet for me…” He mutters to himself, so lost in a lustful haze that he doesn’t care that he’s talking to a screen.

One of your hands begins its descent inwards. You move so slow, so calculated, teasing yourself like you know he would tease you. Copia can see the muscles in your thighs tense as your hips move instinctively towards your hand. Seeing your body twitch with need under your own touch drives him wild.

Finally, your fingers come back into contact with your slick folds. You still don’t bother taking your panties off; you’re so impatient—so eager for something, anything to touch you again—that you can’t wait.

It’s exactly what he would do if he had his hands on you.

Copia is just as impatient as you, not bothering to take his gloves or pants off as he frees his cock. The cool air of his room contrasts with his warm and flushed skin. He leans back on his hands, spreading his legs as if displaying himself for you to see through the screen. A groan from you makes him throb, and he can’t resist any longer.

He spits into his gloved hand and wraps it around his aching cock. He grunts at the newfound friction. It’s not nearly as wet or warm as you, but it’ll have to suffice for now. Copia moves his hand in time with yours, mirroring each brush of your fingers and swipe of your hand. He can’t help but notice how effortlessly your hand slides through your slickness. His cock twitches with each jerk of your hips as you rut into your own touch, each thrust making another moan fill the air.

Then, unexpected to him, you dip two fingers inside. The whine that pours from your mouth heightens every single one of his nerves. Copia watches with a fiery intensity as you gently thrust your hand, your head tipping back as more cries rip from your throat. He wishes he could jump through the screen and litter your vulnerable skin with kisses and love bites.

Copia’s hand follows yours, pumping in time with each of your slow thrusts. His eyes focus intently on your cunt, watching how it stretches around your fingers. Your arousal seeps onto the sheets below you with each movement. He yearns to be there and lick every forgotten drop off your skin.

He doesn’t even notice that your other hand moved to grab a dildo until he hears the wet sound of your mouth enveloping it. He doesn’t know where you got it, but right now, he doesn’t care. That’s a question for another time when his cock isn’t throbbing in his hand. His eyes are glued to your hand as you move the toy from your lips to the space between your thighs.

‘It’s not as good as you, Papa…but I’m so desperate . I just need something in me.’

Copia watches, mouth agape and eyes wide, as you run the toy through your slick folds. His hips jerk into his hand at the sight. Removing your hand from your depths, your soaked fingers spread your entrance as you position the dildo. Copia’s hand freezes, gripping the base of his cock firmly as anticipation surges through him.

The sight of you pressing the toy inside is one he’ll never forget; how your eyes roll as your head falls back, how your thighs tense, how wet and depraved all the sounds are. You don’t whine the same way you do when it’s his cock pushing into you, but the sound you make is reminiscent enough to make him moan and curse.

You guide the dildo until it’s completely buried inside you, groaning as the base meets your body. You begin to move the toy, barely pulling and pushing, and Copia attentively resumes his strokes. You move slowly—so, very, achingly slowly—as you pull the dildo all the way out and slide it all the way in. He knows you can take more (his cock is bigger, and he’s fucked you rougher, anyways), and this is all for show. It’s like you’re teasing him, like you knew he’d only stroke himself in time with your movements.

And that’s exactly what he does. His hand moves slowly over the length of his cock, his grip firm to mimic your tightness. He grunts with each downstroke as he imagines himself as the one buried deep inside you.

After a few more tantalizingly slow thrusts, you finally pick up the speed. Your hand moves the toy with a delicious rhythm, drawing out as much pleasure from your body as possible. Copia listens to your moans and cries, reveling in the way you desperately beg your own body for more.

You don’t hesitate to do just that, your hand quickly thrusting the dildo rougher and quicker to satiate your desire. Your muscles tense and your eyes screw shut as the pleasure overtakes your senses. Copia loves watching you like this, so desperate that you can’t tease yourself any longer. Every noise that spills from your lips sends heat pooling between his legs.

His hand matches your speed, stroking his cock with the same desperate fervor you move with. “Yes, tesoro,” he grunts. “Fuck that pretty cunt for Papa.” He knows you can’t hear him, but it doesn’t stop him from encouraging you as if it was his cock stretching and filling you. “Così fottutamente bella…”

Your depraved noises emanate from the television, filling Copia’s room with sounds of sex that could rival a porn flick. He drinks in every little reaction—every sigh and twitching muscle—as it fuels his need for release. He pumps his cock like cumming to the sight of you is the only thing that matters.

Right now, it is.

‘ Fuck, Papa…It feels…so good.’ Your panting voice calls out between gasps and moans. ‘I wish it was you fucking me…I need you in me so badly.’

Copia bites his lip, completely enthralled by the sight on the screen before him. “Cazzo…anch’io, tesoro…” He grunts, barely able to form a complete sentence. All he can do is babble nonsensical praise at the television in front of him. His muscles tense, the warmth pooling in his abdomen daring to spill over.

In a desperate measure to stay aligned with you, Copia stops his movements completely, pulling his hand away from his aching arousal. His cock is flushed and throbbing, beads of precum spilling from the tip, mere seconds away from release. But he doesn’t want to cum yet. He can’t—not until he’s seen you lose yourself in the depths of ecstasy. His hands twitch restlessly on his thighs as he watches you fuck yourself with the dildo. He’s so hard, so close to orgasm, that the denial almost hurts.

Unable to restrain himself, Copia’s hands inch closer and his hips instinctively jerk towards his touch. His threatening climax dissipates, but he can tell yours is steadily approaching. Your toes curl as your thighs shake, your whimpers growing more desperate by the second.

He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, pumping slowly before thrusting into his hand. He mirrors your pace as he fucks his hand, moving with the same desperation you do. It takes only a few thrusts before he’s close to the edge again.

‘Please…fuck, I’m gonna cum. I want…I want you to…to see me cum…’

Copia growls at the sound of your plea. “Sì, cara, sì…vieni per me, tesoro…sei così fottutamente buono per me…”

Almost immediately, as if you could hear him, your body succumbs entirely to the pleasure that flows through you. Copia watches you writhe, your muscles tensing and your hips jerking wildly. The cries that pour from your lips go directly to his cock. His grip tightens as he imagines you clenching around him.

His hips jerk sporadically into his hand, unable to keep a steady rhythm, as he tips over the edge. His own body tenses as his climax washes through him. A guttural moan rips from his throat as drop after drop of his cum lands on his chest. He keeps thrusting into his hand, even after he finishes, because it’s exactly what he’d do if he was buried deep inside you.

You both pant in recovery, heavy breaths filling the air. The wet squelch of the dildo sliding out of your soaking cunt hits his ears. His softening cock twitches at the sound. Copia watches through half-lidded eyes as you shift on the bed, rising from your reclined position to sit up. You look disheveled—sweaty and exhausted—but, damn, if you’ve never looked sexier.

‘I hope you liked your little gift, Papa,’ you coo, blowing a kiss to the camera. Copia can’t help but smile weakly at the gesture. You smile sweetly as you reach out for the camera, effectively ending the tape.

Copia remains on his bed, laying back and allowing his body to recuperate. The image of you cumming around that dildo plays over and over in his mind. He can already feel the blood rush between his legs again at the thought.

Tour rehearsal be damned; the first thing on his mind is to find you as soon as possible and show you how much he appreciates his gift.

#papa iv #papa emeritus iv #papa iv x reader #papa x reader #copia x reader #the band ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost smut #clown's stuff

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