#the ghoul x your

[spatialwave]

“red lips”

pairing: pre-war cooper howard x fem!reader word count: 3.1k ask: “I have a cooper howard smut request, could you write something where the reader is his makeup artist on a new movie. Theres an Automatic connection they really click and have some sweet sweet sexual tension and after working together for a while during the movie the tension keeps growing and they get steamy in the makeup trailer. 🤭” warnings/tags: mdni! smut, porn with plot, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cheating/affair, cooper praises you. notes: this was SOOO fun, thanks for the ask!! i promise i’ll write some more ghoul fics, but just getting through my asks first and they’re predominantly pw!cooper <3 (also i love cooper calling reader angel for some reason, it’s so cute 😭)

“good morning,” you chirped, far too perky and bubbly for it being six o’clock in the morning.

you’d been working as a makeup artist for two years now, starting off as an assistant on television shows before scoring larger gigs. this was your first big break working in film, hired on the set of ‘The Man from Deadhorse’, starring none other than cooper howard; the biggest name in hollywood.

it just so happened that they hired you to be his makeup artist.

you were giddy, nervous and trying your best to not allow imposter syndrome to ruin your opportunity.

there were a handful of other makeup artists in the trailer, setting up their stations for the morning, allowing plenty of time to pretty up the actors before their call time. you’d chatted amongst each other, mostly other women, and sharing your excitement about working on a blockbuster film.

you’d been so caught up sharing a story about your latest television gig, you hadn’t noticed cooper howard leaning in the door frame of the trailer—patiently waiting. you’d only been made aware after one of the other girls motioned, smiling politely as they continued prepping for the day.

“sorry,” you gasped, hit with a sudden wave of nervousness as you looked at your station that was ready and waiting. you, on the other hand, wasn’t as prepared, “feel free to take a seat, mr. howard, i’ll just be a second,” you rambled, fingers shaking. you couldn’t remember the last time you were starstruck on set.

“take your time,” the man hummed, his voice just as magnetic as it was on the big screen. you heard his footsteps behind you, the sound of the chair creaking as his weight pushed down on it.

you remembered the voice of the makeup department head, who you had met with in the morning to go over the day’s look with cooper. nothing out of the ordinary: cover-ups of tired eyes, blemishes, and repeated touch ups during the day. lighting on sets were notorious for melting away concealers and foundations, so you were to always be one shout away for mid-scene fixes.

one more deep breath and you willed yourself ready, spinning around and taking a good look at the older actor.

“i promise i’m usually more prepared than this,” you smiled, your voice as sweet as honey. you hadn’t the slightest clue of how much that affected the older actor, shifting in his seat.

“no, no, don’t apologize. maybe i’ll show up a few minutes late tomorrow, and we’ll call it even.” he flashed a toothy grin, his charisma reeling you in like a hungry fish.

you two had hit it off well. there were many instances in your career where this time of the day was silent, your talent preferring peace and quiet as they prepared for a long, tiring day of shooting. cooper wasn’t like that, he seemed intent on keeping up the chatter until you finished powdering his nose.

“and that’s it,” you beamed, chewing on your bottom lip as you leaned in a bit close, using your thumb to brush an eyelash off of his cheek. strangely, you hadn’t the slightest urge to pull away.

cooper’s eyes had settled into a gaze with your own, the two of you completely silent, but saying plenty with only your eyes. his hazel orbs flickered down to your lips, rouged and plump, sickeningly kissable.

the sexual tension was thick, and your stomach twisted and turned wildly as you imagined him pinning you back against the makeup table and making you squirm and mewl in delight.

your mind only needed a few moments to conjure up a vivid scenario. your skirt pushed up to your hips, legs spread wide as cooper pushed himself deep into your aching arousal. he’d groan each time you purred his name into his ear, your breath hot against his skin and making his cock twitch inside you.

you’d milk him for what he’s worth, pussy so full that it starts to drip out. he’d rub the tip of his hard cock through your folds, gathering his white, hot cum and pushing it back inside you until you were fucked stupid. he’d have you begging for him to finish inside again, panting and whining loudly until you got what you wanted.

cooper’s cum slut—god, you needed to pull yourself together.

you squeezed your thighs, a slickness inside your panties that you didn’t need to deal with this early in the morning, but it was all your fault. you were sick in the head.

stepping back, you cleared your throat and began putting away tools in their spots—your station neatly organized.

“why, thank you, darlin’,” cooper chimed softly, as if he hadn’t just been fucking you with his eyes much like you had, “i’ve never had my makeup done so well that it’s felt like nothin’ on my face. i oughta’ keep you around for all my future films.”

a rosy blush tinted your cheeks and the tips of your ears, the compliment wanting you to scream in joy. there was nothing quite as good as an actor appreciating your craft, especially one that you wouldn’t mind seeing more of.

“well, i suppose i can clear up the next few years if you’d like,” you giggled, chewing on your bottom lip as you watched him leave. just as he was exiting the trailer, he glanced over his shoulder, meeting your gaze and sending you off with a cheeky wink that nearly made your knees give out.

every morning that cooper was scheduled on set, you were there in the makeup trailer at six am, waiting for his arrival thirty minutes later. to your surprise, he started coming in earlier and you wondered if it was because he wanted to be around you more, or just for the sake of being an early bird. he’d bring you a fresh cup of coffee, knowing by heart the way you liked it after asking one time: two sugar and one cream.

the sexual tension continued to blossom, but you two had hid it well for the sake of your jobs, sanity and cooper’s fame. from what you knew, cooper was many things, including a husband, and you didn’t need to get involved. you weren’t so keen on being in the middle of a controversy.

but there was nothing so wrong with flirting, was there?

“good morning,” you smiled, hearing heavy footsteps entering the trailer and soft sound of two coffee mugs being set down.

“mornin’, angel,” the cowboy spoke, his voice low and groggy.

“you look tired,” you mentioned, turning to face the man and seeing dark circles under his eyes, “you know you don’t have to come in so early. everyone else started coming in later too now that call time has been pushed.”

“what? and miss some quality time with my favourite girl?” he flashed a grin, and your cheeks burned red.

“yes, exactly that,” you chuckled, “you need your beauty sleep, mr. howard.”

“stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, sipping on his coffee and letting the caffeine pump through his system, “you’re a friend, you can call me cooper.”

you smiled, keeping it hidden as you took a sip of your coffee and laid out your makeup for the day, “fine, cooper."

he set his coffee down on the small table beside him, pursing his lips as he watched you prep for the day. your back was turned to him and gave him perfect view of your backside, eyes taking in the flowy black dress you wore that was held snug against your waist with a white belt. he could see the shimmer of your nylon, the dress only reaching your knees and leaving much to be desired.

cooper was a faithful man, he always had been, and there was never a time in his life where he would imagine breaking his loyalty until now. as much as he wanted to blame his thoughts of you on troubles in his marriage, it wasn’t true.

he was weak. plain and simple.

“you ready, cooper?” you broke through his thoughts, your red lips pulled into a smile.

“as ready as ever,” he returned a thin-lipped smile, pushing his mind elsewhere once reminding himself that his thoughts were exactly that—only thoughts.

doing his makeup was therapeutic. this early in the morning meant it was just you two, idle chit-chat as you carefully covered any imperfections on his face.

“can you tilt your head back for me?” you asked, the sweet sound of your voice sending the man’s brain into orbit. he followed your words, clearing his throat as he lifted one leg over the other to cover up the erection building underneath his pants.

he hadn’t shared the reasoning for his tiredness with you, having gone to bed late and rather pent-up. his hand underneath the blanket, stroking his cock as his mind was full of images of you, imagining what your body looked like under those dresses and skirts you liked to wear. impractical for long days, but he wouldn’t complain.

his hand around his length wasn’t enough, but he made do. moaning and whimpering your name as he imagined you riding him all night long. your perky breasts bouncing and fingers pressing against his chest as you begged him to fuck you harder and deeper.

a quiet sigh left his lips as you blotted makeup to his under eyes, hiding the tired bags that he’d done to himself for letting his imagination get the best of him.

it was quiet, only the sounds of you softly humming as you focused on your duty at hand.

cooper couldn’t take it anymore.

“do you… have a boyfriend?” cooper asked, swallowing a lump down his throat. he regretted the question, feeling the way you froze. for a man with natural-born charisma, he wasn’t sure how he managed to fumble so awkwardly.

“uh, no,” you answered, voice quiet, “just been focusing on work these days, not a lot of time for relationships when i’m working long hours.”

the question bounced around in your head, trying to clear the thought but there was no use. you were stuck there, staring at the man in awe as you hoped his mind was filled with dirty thoughts like your own.

he grunted in response, shifting in his seat as his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. you paused with your application, pulling your hand back and locking eyes. your faces were only a few inches apart, warm breath mingling together. you inhaled his scent, a mix of cologne, coffee and cigarettes, an addicting smell that you’d rather taste.

cooper read your mind.

“can i kiss you?”

you nodded—you were as weak as him.

cooper’s hand lifted to your neck quickly, pulling you close so he could crash his lips against yours and taste the sweetened coffee creamer on your tongue. the brushes in your hands dropped to the floor and were long forgotten as he tugged you into his lap and took your breath away.

at any moment, someone could waltz into the trailer, but neither of you were thinking rationally. all you wanted was each other after weeks of menial flirting and small talk.

he groaned into your mouth, the sound muffling as his hand caressed your jaw and the other pressed into the small of your back so you were flush against his body. as you straddled him, you felt the bulge in his pants pressing against your heat that had already soaked through your panties and nylon.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this, sweetheart,” cooper whispered, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck. he inhaled the floral perfume that you wore, a gentle scent that dizzied him as he attacked your skin, “you're such a pretty girl. teasin' me all the time, lookin' so sweet.”

the praises and compliments fed you well, causing you to rub your hips against him with vigorous need.

you were silently begging for more, and you were delighted to find out that cooper howard wanted nothing more than to make sure you were well taken care of.

your legs spread as you sat in his chair, your dress pushed up to your hips but covering most of his face as his tongue flicked against your clit, swollen and throbbing. one of your hands pressed over your mouth, muffling the pleasured sounds from you, the other pulling your dress back so you could see cooper ravaging your cunt.

his eyes peered up into yours, cheeks red while he tongued inside your arousal and calloused hands kept your thighs pushed apart.

“don’t stop,” you whimpered, “just like that. please, cooper, you’re doing so good.”

you kept him going, your words encouraging him as he sucked at your bundle of nerves and filled you with two fingers. he worked you well, scissoring his fingers and bending them so they could rub along the muscle of your g-spot. it erupted you into a fit of pouty moans, his skillful movements making you reach your climax quicker than any of your past partners.

your thighs shook and your hands gripped on the arms of the chair, cunt squeezing around his fingers as your juices seeped out of you and coated his skin. he fucked you through it, fingers rocking inside of you while pleasure flooded all of your senses.

“look at you,” he breathed against you, warm breath tickling your sensitive heat, “you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

you nodded, unable to tear your gaze away, “yes,” you murmured, willing to say anything cooper wanted to hear, “i’ll do whatever you want.”

that cracked a smile on his lips, fingers slowing until he pulled them out and watched your face twist at the sudden emptiness, “anything? well, with an offer that sweet, i’ll be sure to get my worth out of you.”

all you could do was smile at him, breathing heavily in a state of post-climax, wondering how on earth you were going to keep this up without screaming out his name. loud enough for anyone outside the trailer to hear.

your were putty cooper’s hands. a simple kiss to your inner thigh and you nearly unraveled again.

“i don’t know how i got so lucky to fuck a girl like you,” his voice was low, demeanour shifting into a side of cooper howard you thought existed only in your mind, “is it okay if i do that? because i’m sure you know how to take cock well.”

fuck.

“yes, please,” you answered, eyes following him as he rose to his feet in front of you. it was hard not to noticed the tent in his pants, your mind reeling as you imagined what he looked like underneath.

“good girl,” he breathed, forcing you out of the chair and in one quick motion swiping across your makeup counter so everything fell to the ground.

you couldn’t complain about his mistreatment of your belongings because you were biting on your bottom lip to muffle a moan as his thumb circled your clit. your ass was atop the makeup counter, back pressed against the large mirror as cooper touched you with one hand and undid the button and zipper of his jeans with the other.

“you gotta’ be nice and quiet,” he whispered, watching you do your best to muffle any sounds bubbling from your throat, “this is just for us, okay?”

you hummed in agreement, unable to speak as you felt the head of his cock press against your entrance. his thumb continued the slow ministrations, keeping your body in a state of overstimulation as he stretched your aching pussy with a forward press of his hips. he was bigger than you were used to, but you took him well—you’d wanted this for weeks, after all.

“fuck,” you whimpered, hands grabbing onto his shoulders as you tilted your head back against the mirror and glued your eyes shut. you were filled by him, legs wrapping around his hips and forcing him still so you could adjust to the feeling.

“you okay, angel?” he kissed at your parted lips, tasting your tongue before trailing along your jaw and nibbling at your earlobe, “tell me when.”

even during the midst of an affair, cooper howard was the kindest man you ever had the privilege of fucking.

“...when,” you whimpered.

he didn’t hold back when you gave him the go—knowing that you two only had so little time before someone else was bound to barge in. you were forced to bury your face into his neck, whining and mewling against his skin while he fucked you relentlessly.

you loved his sounds, groaning heavy into your ear with each snap of his hips. his breath tickled your neck and left you a squirming mess, his cock fucking you so well that all you could do was babble gibberish. broken words of encouragement and pleads to keep going.

“harder,” you mewled, fingers digging into his clothed shoulders as he obliged.

his cock pushed so deep inside you that the tip rubbed against the fleshy ring of your cervix, rendering you utterly fucked out in a state of bliss. all you were good for was being a mere tool for him to reach his climax, your cunt tightening at every thrust of his hips.

more of your makeup toppled to the floor, your hands moving from his shoulders and gripping onto the surface below you. you met cooper’s gaze as you pulled back, his lips and chin covered in red smudges from your lipstick.

“you take me so good,” he breathed, the hand on your hip gripping tight and the other leaving handprints on the mirror behind you, “good fuckin’ girl.”

“i’m gonna’ come,” you whined, eyes hardly open as you peered at your lover through thick lashes. your thighs squeezed against his hips, vibrating as your second orgasm creeped up and you knew he was close, too.

“come for me, angel,” he grunted, quickening his pace to chase down his orgasm, “scream my name.”

his thumb returned to your clit and the chord inside you snapped. you wrapped your arms tight around the actor’s neck and pressed your lips against his so he could swallow your moans. you shook violently, toes curling as you came hard.

you lips parted from him and you couldn’t help the way his name slipped off your tongue, voice cracking as you cried in pleasure.

he wasn’t far behind, a groan rumbling deep from his chest as his hips stuttered and he came inside you—leaving you sticky, sweaty and full. neither of you could move, bodies twitching as you clung to each other in the euphoric aftermath that released all the building tension between you.

you were cooper howard’s little secret, a title you would take to the grave.

[22sublime]

move over lucy, I’ll wander the wasteland with the ghoul instead

[loneleeghost]

“true that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me”

[theghooligan]

daemon and all the ghosts of harrenhall living it up every night:

[ghostboidanny]

In a dpxdc demon twins AU, I think Damian would be Pissed that Danny's ghost name is Phantom = Fenton, when he could have gone with Ghoul = al Ghul

Danny Ghoul is so much better and cooler than Phantom! Absolutely no other reason for his anger!

[nastylittleghouls]

All Aether wants for Christmas is Dew

[sematarygirls]

me when the ghoul:

[kkaisarion]

headbutting is rain's love language pass it on

[hobgoblinsandpeachfuzz]

I got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

*so it’s not even a typical legal drama, it’s like a legitimate divorce with the mountains of paperwork and boring courtroom hearings

[miasmaghoul]

There is so much talk of creaming jorts on my blog right now and you know, it gave me a devious idea:

Mountain (or another ghoul of your choosing ofc, but it is still march haha) is getting close to the start of a rut, which has them feeling a little posessive a packmate pre-ritual. Like he needs to claim them a little to scratch the itch under their skin. What if they were having a sneaky make out session before curtain call and he unbuckled the others belt, creamed into their jorts undies and buckled them back up, just in time for them to feel him all ritual?

Gross.

I love it.

Leaned more into the possessive side of things, hope you don't mind!

(This has been sitting in my drafts for months I'm SO SORRY pretend it's still March shhhh)

Mountain breathes deep through his nose, trying to focus on the book in his hand as the van trundles down the road toward tonight's venue. It's some pulpy crime novel he'd grabbed at the last airport they visited, something intended to distract more than entertain, but despite being more than halfway through it Mountain couldn't name a single character if he tried.

He can't help it. Can't think about anything but the way every inch of him has started to buzz, how the very air around him hums.

There's a specific sort of pressure in the back of his head. Rigidity in the muscles along his spine. A disquieting tingle that's come to settle into his gut. It all speaks to one thing, and it couldn't be coming at a worse time.

It had started last night, a sharp spike of nearly painful arousal that had hit him in the middle of the night. Had roused him from an otherwise very sound sleep and jolted him so badly that the oversized ghoul had hit his head on the ceiling of his bunk. It hardly registered, Mountain honed in exclusively on the sudden, urgent need for release.

Rock hard and leaking already, he'd wasted no time in shoving his hands into his sleep sweats, gripping himself and pumping his hips into the tight channel of both fists. Forced to bite his tongue to mute the harsh groan threatening to escape his throat when he blew in a matter of seconds, eyes shut so tight that colors bloomed behind his lids.

It happened again in the bus shower this morning, Mountain struck by a wave of need so intense that he'd doubled over and nearly slipped. He'd lasted a little longer that time, not that he'd needed to, and the wet sound of his soapy hand flying over his cock still echoed in his ears. That one had left him dizzy, left him panting against the shower wall while he watched his load swirl down the drain.

There really are few things worse than an unexpected rut.

He knows that the others know, but most of them don't acknowledge it. He'd caught them all staring at different points, nostrils flared, but they were quick to look away. Dew, Rain, Cirrus and Cumulus did their best to be sly about it, furtive glances cast during casual conversation. Aeon and Aurora weren't quite so subtle - he could smell the pair of them from down the length of the bus. Could see Aeon getting chubby in his too-tight jeans and Aurora squeezing her thighs together. Both tempting in their own ways, to be sure.

But then there was Swiss.

Swiss, who he'd heard noisily tugging at himself in the bunk below while he came down from his first orgasm.

Swiss, who had been standing bright-eyed and grinning just outside the bathroom after Mountain's shower.

Swiss, who had spent the entire morning tossing him hungry glances and touching him at every possible opportunity.

Swiss, who now sits pressed tightly to his side in the cramped van while Mountain does his damnedest to ignore the heat of his body, the spice of his cologne and the weight of the hand on his knee.

Mountain can hardly think for how badly he wants. Wants to wrench Swiss's arm behind his back, get a hand in his hair and shove his tongue down his throat. Wants to tug Swiss into his lap in front of everyone and feel him up, wants to suck deep, dark marks into his neck while he grinds against his ass. Wants to get Swiss's strong legs over his shoulders, wants to get so deep inside that Swiss can't do anything but writhe and beg for his -

"You're growling, big guy," Swiss informs him, voice silken gravel, and Mountain nearly tears his book in half. He gives the other ghoul a sidelong glance, and Mountain knows that if they weren't glamoured Swiss would be smiling with every fang in his mouth. "Somethin' on your mind?"

Mountain doesn't deign to answer him, instead choosing to stare at the page he hasn't turned in the last ten minutes. To pretend his dick isn't hard as granite and leaking into the two pairs of too-tight underwear he'd shoved himself into.

He's first out of the van when they finally pull up to the amphitheater, sucking down heavy lungfuls of fresh, summertime air in an effort to clear his head. To wash away the heady scent of smoky whiskey, black pepper and bitter herbs stuck in his nose. To allow himself to think about anything but the familiar warmth of Swiss's body.

About the way he always holds himself open when Mountain bends him over. The way he moans in that deliciously whorish way when Mountain pushes in. The way Swiss's voice drops to a rasp and his breathing goes shallow when Mountain grips those narrow hips with bruising force. The way he grabs at his own hair when Mountain fucks him just right. The way Swiss's pretty little hole stretches around his -

"Mount!"

Rain's voice shakes him from his stupor, and as his cock pulses and leaks to memories of Swiss, Mountain hurries over to join his packmates. Rain gives him a worried look.

"Hey, you alright?" He reaches out to touch Mountain's arm, but seems to think better of it. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest. "I know you're, uh..." he makes a vague southward gesture, "...struggling."

"I'm fine," Mountain grumbles, not so subtly adjusting himself and hoping he hasn't soaked a wet spot into his jeans. He catches a whiff of warm spice and old weed, and as Swiss breezes past them Mountain can practically feel his pupils narrow.

Rain seems less than convinced when Mountain proceeds to crack his knuckles, but he drops the subject nonetheless. They head inside together, and Mountain does his best to put on his game face.

He still stops in a bathroom along the way, unable to erase the image of Swiss stretched and keening from his mind. He spills into the toilet with the other ghoul's name on his tongue, and huffs out an irritated sigh when no relief follows.

This is going to be a very long show.

Still though, the hours between arrival and showtime pass in a blur. Soundcheck comes and goes, as do their myriad meetings with venue staff and conversations with their techs.

Through it all, Mountain can feel golden eyes boring into him. In the halls, on stage, in the dressing room. Mountain does his best to ignore the weight of Swiss's gaze as he applies his face paint, but the only other thing he can think of is the red-hot tangle of urgency between his legs. He meets Swiss's eyes in the vanity mirror as he slips on his helmet, the other ghoul peering at him over Rain's shoulder while they chat across the room.

He offers a wink through his lenses, and Mountain's balls ache.

The call comes for ten minutes til showtime, and the others make their way from the dressing one by one. Swiss doesn't so much as move from his position against the wall. Mountain can feel his breaths coming quicker as Aurora and Cumulus share a sideways hug, the door clicking shut behind them, and then they're alone.

They're alone, and Swiss grins.

Mountain's across the room in two stride, and before Swiss can so much as breathe he's pinned to the wall by his throat. Mountain snarls in his face, leaning in until he can feel Swiss' breath on his lips, hot and tobacco tinged.

"Why must you always insist on being such a fucking tease?"

Swiss' lips curl up at the corners despite the pressure on his neck, and something predatory prickles at the back of Mountain's mind.

"Not my fault you're thrown' off pheromones like crazy," he said, just a little strained. Swiss rolls his hips towards his pelvis and Mountain's stomach gives a mighty swoop. "Can't blame me for wanting a taste."

Swiss licks at the air, breathes deep, and Mountain squeezes his throat so tight his eyes roll back.

"Can't even ask for what you want, can you?" The taller ghoul's other hand finds Swiss' belt and Mountain unbuckles it with aggresive fingers. He knows he's growling as best he can through his glamour, and the way Swiss shivers says he gets the message. "Too stupid to use your words? Just have to be a fucking tease about it?"

Swiss gives him a hurried nod as he swallows against the pressure of Mountain's palm, and he grunts when Mountain yanks his pants and briefs down in one go. A rough hand gropes his rapidly thickening cock, and Swiss visibly winces, eyes bright.

"Don't make that face." Mountain pulls his hand from Swiss' growing chubby to unzip his own pants, to fish himself out through his already stained briefs. "You asked for this." He groans at his own touch, cock hot and heavy in his hand. He smears the wet tip of it over Swiss' shaft and the sensation wrenches a moan from him.

Swiss licks his lips, nods again as his eyes drift south, and as Mountain starts to stroke himself he chokes out a pained huff. Mountain's hold on the other ghoul's throat never slackens, not even as his chest starts to heave while his cock jumps. He pulls at himself with firm tugs, each one sounding slicker than the last. Swiss lets his helmet thud back against the wall, hands coming up to rest on Mountain's forearm. He rocks forward and Mountain growls, can't keep himself from pressing closer. From crowding Swiss to the wall and bumping his fat cock with every pass of his fist.

"I'm going to give you something special." They're close enough that Swiss's breath clouds his lenses. Mountain's balls are starting to go tight already, the tension settled into every part of his body melting into tingly heat that has his shoulders sagging. "Something to think about while you're dancing like a whore for all those people."

He works himself hard and fast, the urgent heat in his veins threatening to set his skin alight. Swiss's ignored cock bobs and bounces, the other ghoul gripping his choking arm tight and spitting tight curses through clenched fangs every time Mountain nudges it.

"Touch me," Swiss manages to spit, blunt nails digging through his shirt. He bucks as best he can, but all that accomplishes is a brief bump against Mountain's fist. "Mount - Mount you gotta -"

He gurgles when Mountain squeezes him into silence, huffing while he polishes his leaking tip.

"Shut up," he bites out, teeth clenched chest heaving. "Sluts don't get to make demands."

For once in his life, Swiss keep his mouth shut.

It's no time at all before Mountain's balls draw up, his hips twitching in animalistic jerks. He grunts with every stroke, brow knit behind his mask, and the closer he gets the better Swiss's strained gurgling sounds.

"Gonna make sure they all know you're mine."

Swiss's cock spits a blurt of pre that hits his stroking hand, and with an impossibly deep moan Mountain shoots in thick ropes that splatter against his cock, balls and muscular thighs. Heavy streaks that cling to heated skin and coarse hair. That leave him filthy and marked in a way that has Swiss's knees wobbling. Mountain doesn't release his throat until his cock dribbles its last, and the deep, starved breath Swiss sucks in is musc to Mountain's ears.

He steps away while Swiss catches his breath and struggles to keep his legs under him, heads back to vanity to clean himself up. He hisses as the hand towel he finds scratches at his sensitive flesh, and in the mirror Swiss catches his eyes once more.

"Just gonna leave me like this?" Swiss pants, gesturing at his flushed, messy cock. He sounds surprised, and Mountain really can't imagine why. A pearly stripe drips, beads up to leave a stain in his undies that has Mountain drooling.

"Deal with it," he rumbles in response, tucking himself away and fastening his belt. "I want to smell it on you tonight."

He has the pleasure of watching Swiss' eyelids droop behind his lenses at the timbre of his voice, rich with intent. Mountain grabs his sticks and heads to join the others, and the sound of Swiss's zipper makes him smirk. There's something deeply satisfying about leaving him sticky and wanting, and even though he's hard again halfway through Kaisarion Mountain finds it easy to lose himself in his musicmaking.

Until Watcher in the Sky comes up and he makes the mistake of peeking over at Swiss's platform while Dew's guitar wails. Finds him on his knees and elbows with his ass in the air.

As both of his sticks splinter in half, Mountain swears he's going to make Swiss cry tonight.

It's what the slut deserves.

[taruchiu]

theyre in love your honor (i tried rendering but i'm in a time crunch so heres hurried product of raindrop + some minor redesign of them)

and also heres my submission for raindrop month! [idea from the lovely @alwaysjustmina] posted a day before my birthday :] !!

[theghooligan]

bloodraven being a tree and giving his great great grandfather sleep paralysis demons all season courtesy of harrenhall and alys:

[ghostisun]

thinking about aether seeing the newly summoned dewdrop and, feeling the call in the yawning of his heart, claiming dew as his mate.

aether had heard of this from omega – how bonds just snap in place like they’ve long been written in the stars.

“funny, isn’t it?” the older ghoul had asked him then when aether was just new, smelling too much like the sulphuric fumes of the pit, and his body too sensitive for the topside. “how even those of us have something so beautiful?”

omega didn’t seem too happy when he said this, his face pinched in a faux smile. aether would learn later how omega’s bond fizzled the moment it had been formed; how, no matter how much he tried salvaging it, it was futile. how it was meant to fail no matter what.

(papa, the shadows whispered when aether reached into the abyss to find out who it was that omega was destined for. coiled within the answer was a sharp sting, a sensation that had aether pulling away with a gasp.

in the next breath, omega was standing before him, his eyes ablaze even when his face was clean of any anger.

“don’t,” he warned, and aether knew. aether had felt, after all, the deep and pained longing that omega was carrying.

“i’m sorry,” he answered.

omega disappeared with a quiet growl.)

no one else had a bond that was like omega’s with terzo’s; nothing deep and desperate, nothing that ached and reverberated as though the thought, alone, of living without one’s destined pair was enough to rattle one’s bones.

nothing like this – searing and overwhelming; bright and burning.

aether felt like choking. like drowning. like he is being doused with something so filling, he feels like he’s about to burst at his seams.

a presence tangles with his own, taking up the space in the yawning of his heart. it caresses him. it embraces him. it gives so much to aether that he is reduced to soft whimpers and gasped-out tears.

he feels-

he feels like he’s been remade.

when aether opens his eyes to find those of the newly summoned one’s, his mind pulses with a name.

dewdrop.

dewdropdewdropdewdrop-

then, mine.

mineminemine.

[scvlly]

kiss your girlfriend. as a treat.

[fortheharbingers]

characters: dewdrop/sodo, gn!reader

cw: blood ment, finger sucking, suggestive content – minors dni

a/n: the bloody guitar thing? he did it for the blood kink girlies he did it for me he is all my mind can think about right now have this short little thing<3 (also hi i still dk whether to call him dew or sodo LOL)

you can hear the sound of a guitar long before you make your way to the familiar chambers, the front of the door you've grown a bit too accustomed to and the firey ghoul residing there.

when you knock on the door firmly, once, and open it right after without even waiting for a reply however, you do not expect for the sound to triple– much more passionate ...and aggressive, enough so that you can feel your ears, your head and hands hurting.

and in the midst of the chaos, stands tall and proud Dew, as always, either unaware or uncaring of your arrival.

the sudden shift of his playing morphing into a mini impromtu guitar solo and you think 'yep, definitely the latter.' whenever he has the opportunity, he makes sure to show off, especially to you at all times– maybe top it off even, with a hand sliding down or fingers moving in ways not a single soul could deem 'innocent'.

walking past him, making sure to brush against his side, reeling in the fact that his playing stirs, even if just for a second; you make yourself comfortable on his bed and enjoy the show.

in his element even off stage, he holds your attention on him and him only, hands trailing down his body, his arms, the way he bounces his legs in sync with the melody, how he sways and moves and lovely, lovely fingers working their magic–

red.

your eyes spot it once and that's all they can see now, reminding you why you've decided to pay the ghoul this early visit in the first place.

jumping from his bed and rushing all the way to him, you catch the ghoul off guard with how sudden your mood shifts.

okay, maybe you should've been a little more careful and not haste because grabbing his hands and pulling them down to yourself, all the while on your knees certainly do not make up for the best of sceneries.

and he makes sure to remind a tiny partion of your mind that, with a low chuckle and quick joke about how you're so eager to kneel before him tonight.

sending a stern look his way gets him to shut up quickly, and so does the worried look on your face maybe.

though the worry is appreciated, ('aw, you like me that much, sweet thing?'), he brushes off all your comments to follow– about how he should be resting his hands, take it easy, let them recover and so on and on... and oh dear satan, doesn't that hurt? sting? demon or not you've got to have some pain receptors, no? well, what about making a mess, huh? surely it should be tedious to clean all up all that blood–

"you can always help with that, you know."

and he brings your train of thought, more like train of rambling off apparently, to a stop abruptly.

"well? no?" he speaks up when you stay silent for too long, "and here i thought you'd always be here to help– from what you've told me countless times before, at least." he teases you.

you'd probably hit him on the bicep or nudge his belly and trail off to find a first aid kit of sorts in regular circumstances.

but being on your knees in front of one fiery ghoul, his hands in yours, the scent of blood so sharp, heavy and delicious and his equally bloodied guitar as well as the crotch hidden behind it now– the circumstances are far from what your usual requires.

your grip on his hands loosen but gets more preceise. he can feel your fingertips ever so slowly moving against his skin now, tracing the bleeding areas, the lines of his palms, every small curve and vein– have you hands always been this cold?

and if so, why do they seem to burn now?..

raising your eyes from his hands to hold his gaze, you look up, not even needing to bat your eyelashes, parting your lips oh so slightly, donning that innocent look... oh no, the sight of you on your knees, with some of his blood already smeared on your hands, making you smell like him, is more enough to send him off.

"you're right, my apologies." your soft words fill what little space left between the two, ah, the pleasantries, always the pleasantries with you when you know you've got him hooked.

"i am a person of my word, after all. please," your words clouding him, your fingers going up and down his hands all the way to his wrists leaving him wanting. "allow me to help you."

he settles for a nod when words seem to fail him– your scent mixing with his not helping the situation at all.

he has had you in positions more obscene than this, surely, so what is it with now that has his senses overdriven with you, you and only you?

slight movements abandoned, you stroke a hand over the back of his hands with a hum, seeming to inspect the current damage his hands have endured. "we should get these cleaned up first, no?" you inquire, no caring for his replies.

turning his hands up and down, letting your nails slightly graze against the skin, dew watches your every move intently. "i doubt you have anything lying around to help with that." you talk more to yourself than anything.

"guess we've got no choice but to–" before he can ask 'but to what?' you bring a hand you were holding to your face and suck on a finger, he watches as two phalanges get lost behind your lips.

if your breath hot and fawning over his skin wasn't enough, your lips closing around the digits and rolling a tongue over certainly does the job.

dragging the fingers out, you turn the hand a little again, a frown making its way to your face. "what is it, pretty thing?" he finds himself asking.

"it's not working as efficiently as I've hoped," you say with a pout, now holding the hand with both your hands and dragging a tongue over the knuckles, slowing your movements when you taste the blood, eyes closed and your face carrying an expression he knows to be of 'content'.

at the contact of skin and saliva, your tongue and his bruises, open wounds, dew barely holds back a hiss.

opening your eyes, you look up to him again, a faint smile forming on your now blood stained lips.

"i'm afraid this will take longer than i anticipated."

bringing his other hand to cup your cheek and letting it fall slowly, his index linger a tad longer, dew tilts his head to the side.

"it's a good thing the night is young."