#p1nk ficlet

[p1nkcanoe]

NSFW prompt for you based on that tag about Swiss giving good jfk

Swiss gives someone of your choice good jfk (maybe on the tour bus? in front of everyone? after a show?)

Love you bye 🫶

Swiss will not keep his hands to himself. He’s got something on his mind for sure. He’d stared at Phantom throughout the entirely of the night’s ritual from his platform, had glued his hands to Phantom’s waist and the small of his back during bows, and had practically dragged the ghoul to the dressing room afterwards to smother him with his lips and grope at sweaty skin until the door opened and the rest of their pack had filed in. And now, sitting on the bus, he still won’t stop staring at him like he wants to eat him alive. 

They’re far apart, not by either of their choices, and Phantom leans his head in his palm against the nice leather arm of the couch. His muscles are tired and tight with exhaustion and the soft rumble of the bus as it flies down the interstate adds weight to his eyelids that struggle to stay open. It’s too early for sleep–he knows this–but the drone of everyone’s voices and the hum of the engine are lulling him to an early bedtime. Phantom tries to stay awake. He lifts his head up, repositions his body to a position less comfortable, and tries to blink the sleep away, and everytime he looks up he makes eye contact with those piercing, golden eyes across the bus. 

For a short moment he looks back, holds his gaze the best he can to make sure the ghoul isn’t trying to get his attention, but Swiss doesn’t look away. He doesn’t change his position or make any sort of move, just stares with those beautiful eyes that make Phantom’s knees weak. But truly, Phantom is a sleepy ghoul. He breaks the gaze between them to allow his eyelids to fall again and his head to meet his palm, and when he finally begins to succumb to sleep he hears movement from somewhere on the bus and then feels hands at his belt. 

He cracks an eye open to find the ghoul squatted on one knee. 

“Oh–Swiss–What’re you–Oh–!”

Swiss pulls his dick, mortifyingly soft, from his pants and spits messily over the tip before taking the ghoul wholly into his mouth and swirling his tongue. Phantom shoots up at the very sudden and very unexpected stimulation, his hands flying to the back of Swiss’ shirt and bunching as much of the fabric in his fists as he can reach for some sort of hold on him. His face burns hot with embarrassment and he doubles over the top of the ghoul’s head in an attempt to hide himself and make himself smaller. The sudden movement and pressure to the back of Swiss’ head pushes him further down and Phantom chokes on his own saliva, coughing and sputtering and adding to the redness flooding under his skin. 

Everybody is staring–he can feel their eyes burning into him. And he really can’t blame them, if it was anyone else in his current position he’d probably be staring, too. But right now, suddenly the center of attention, he isn’t sure he wants this attention. “Fuck, fuck, fuck–” he gasps and raises up just enough to crane his neck downwards and catch a glimpse of the ghoul in his lap. Swiss sucks at him hard, brings a hand up to dig into the fly of his pants and play with his balls as if they’re not surrounded by their entire pack and also very publicly in the center of the bus. He scrambles at the back of Swiss’ head with shaking hands and digs his fangs into his lip. 

Phantom doesn’t think he’s ever been so mortified in his entire existence. He can’t look up past the top of Swiss’ head; making eye contact with anyone right now would probably kill him. But he can’t deny it feels fucking good. Swiss is a master with his mouth, everybody knows it, and he’s getting so hard so quick with the combination of dopamine and adrenaline running through his veins. He pulls at dense curls and shakes his head, tries to pull the ghoul off his dick, but Swiss is steadfast on giving him head he won’t ever forget. 

Phantom folds over his head again, tries to curtain away his dick with his body when Swiss starts bobbing his head, making little choked sounds deep in the back of his throat with how dedicated he sucks him down. He can only endure. He feels everything–the burning of everyone’s eyes, the heat and slickness of Swiss’ mouth, the kneading on his balls–and hears everything too. Hears the clicks and wet noises as his tip punches the back of his throat over and over and over again, and hears the comments and snickering from his packmates as they watch their free show. He tries to ignore it, tries to enjoy the feeling, because yeah, it feels good, but why did he have to do this here and now? 

Claws dig deep and tight into ebony colored curls when Swiss’ tongue swirls skillfully around his tip and then drags back and forth through his slit. Lightning shoots down his spine and settles hot in his belly and he accidently lets a breathy moan slip past his lips that causes someone to his right to chuckle and Swiss to drop his head halfway down his shaft. He moans around him, sending vibrations through his cock and Phantom groans, melts into the back of the couch and covers his face with his hands. Swiss hollows his cheeks, sucks so good that Phantom thinks he’s trying to suck any remnants of a soul out of his dick. 

“Oh no,” he spits through gritted teeth. His body buckles on him. “Oh no, oh– fuck– i’m gonna…” He spills quick and hot down Swiss’ throat and Swiss thanks him with an irregular pattern of squeezes to his balls followed by a gorgeous moan that turns Phantom’s cheeks impossibly more red. He tries so hard to stifle the whine that bubbles in his throat but Swiss’ work on his dick is way too good and he slips anyways, whines high and strained into his palms. He knows he’s bringing more attention to himself but he can’t help it. He’ll get Swiss back some way or another for this. 

Swiss takes all of him once more before raising up and off with a pop that makes Phantom gasp in sudden overstimulation. His dick twitches, jerks when Swiss pulls his hand out of his pants and wipes his mouth on the back of it so nonchalantly that Phantom frowns. He scrambles to tuck his softening cock away as Swiss pushes himself up to his feet, stretches his hands above his head and groans as his muscles pull back out. Phantom still can’t look at anyone. He can see Dew’s hand out of the corner of his eye, rubbing and pulling at himself hard through the fabric of his navy blue sweats. It feels like all of the oxygen has been sucked from the room. 

“Damn, Swiss, can I get one of those too?”

“Nah,” Swiss says. His voice is fucked. He steps between Phantom’s feet and grabs the ghoul by the front of his shirt. He yelps. “I’m not done with this one yet.”

#p1nk ficlet #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss x phantom

[forlorn-crows]

UHM YOUR TENTACLE MONSTER FICLET??? IM OBSESSED????

THANK U P1NK ♡♡♡ i had a lot of fun with it. didnt think it was going to end up such a big hit!

im working on a sequel (well, prequel) by request of a few special people. little snippet for ya:

#ask #p1nkcanoe #the band ghost

[p1nkcanoe]

the polaroid collection: mountain

this is part six of the polaroid collection, based off of 'picture this'. you can either find the masterlist here, read on ao3, or read below:

Mountain is a predictable ghoul. Detail oriented. A strict schedule follower… 

Every morning he gets up at the same time and puts on the same mud-stained apron over his work clothes, brews himself a steaming cup of coffee with a splash of milk and two sugars, and heads out to the greenhouse. He works for about four hours, sometimes more to ensure everything is growing and green, lifting heavy bags of dirt over his broad shoulders and organizing a million containers of seeds with calloused fingers until he’s sore. Then he’ll head back in towards the den around lunchtime and place his dirt-covered sandals right outside the door, dusting off his clothes on the lawn to make sure he doesn’t spatter the stone slab in front of the door with soil – because it would be so rude of him to leave such a tiny mess for someone else to step in. 

It’s almost infuriating how perfect he is. 

But after he gets a bite to eat, eating the leftovers in the fridge and scrubbing the dirty dishes, he then disappears into his bedroom to cleanse his body of the lingering filth of the gardens. And for the majority of his packmates, they believe that that is where his strenuous morning routine ends; a nice, relaxing bath. What they don’t know is that the earth ghoul always takes a lengthy, less-than-glamorous moment to jerk his rock hard, stress-induced erection to completion before hopping into the bath. 

Always. 

It’s like clockwork at this point. Swiss listens for his heavy footsteps outside the hall, listens for the quiet click of his bedroom lock, and then it’s only a matter of minutes before the soft groans begin floating in through the old vent connecting their rooms. It’s a blessing it’s there, really. It’s like music to Swiss’ ears when he hears him. That big, sweet, considerate ghoul with a huge heart and an even bigger dick… 

Oooh and he really likes it when Mountain works longer hours than usual, because it means that he can smell him. And fuck does he smell delightful. A dizzying combination of sweat and stress and lustful pheromones that drive the multi ghoul absolutely mad despite only being able to imagine what he looks like on the other side. He wants to eat him up, get a taste, and it doesn’t help that he stinks particularly strong today. 

His feet carry him out of his desk chair and through Mountain’s bedroom door before he can fully process the possibility that Mountain may not be alone. Cock already generously tenting the front of his shorts, the sight of the ghoul half-naked on his bed with his fist wrapped around his dick is almost enough to make him forget entirely about the camera clutched in his hand. 

He looks really good – Swiss knew he would. He’s got his tight undershirt bunched up around his chest to keep it out of the way and his dirtied cargos are bundled in a heap around his ankles. The sudden intrusion into his space has the earth ghoul more than surprised, his cheeks pink and his breathing heavy, but Swiss doesn’t care. 

Upon bursting in, Mountain’s scent had hit him in the face like the bus they ride around in during tour. So gross, so pungent, so thick. Swiss watches as his hand struggles to fight between continuing to get himself off or hiding himself away. Nostrils flaring, pupils dilating… Mountain cups his balls with his other hand under Swiss’ intense gaze, suddenly insecure. 

“Hey, big guy,” Swiss says, an unnatural lilt to his voice as he gives the other ghoul a big, toothy smile. 

The suspicion doesn’t leave Mountain’s features as the multi ghoul stalks closer, eyes raking over the other’s form like he’s sizing him up. Then he finds the camera in his grasp and things begin to click into place at the same time that the heavy wooden door clicks into its frame. That look of confusion contorts into something cunning, his lips curling into a smirk as his fingers flex around the base of his shaft, wiggling the tip like a worm in front of a hungry fish. 

Green eyes flit from the camera up to find brilliant gold and a singular fang peeks out from behind Mountain’s chapped upper lip. 

“You know,” he starts and tilts his head to the side, “I heard about this little photography project you’ve had going on and I was wondering when you were gonna finally let me have my turn.” 

Swiss huffs, surprised at the shift towards confidence, his change in demeanor unexpected, but continues to encroach upon the other’s space until there’s only a few steps to separate them. He feels his cock stir again, pre welling at the tip and soaking into the fabric that struggles to constrain him. 

“Well you didn’t think I was gonna forget about you, did you?” 

Mountain shrugs. Much too smug to have his pants around his ankles like a little boy. “I’m not too sure. I was beginning to think that everyone was gonna have their turn and I was gonna be left out in the mud.” 

Swiss stalks a little bit closer, close enough to reach out if he wanted to. He doesn’t. His dick leads him in whichever direction he desires to go. 

“Oh, but darling, you know I love it when you get a little dirty.” A gold-tipped digit extends and begins to trail downwards over a flaky patch of dirt smeared over Mountain’s strong bicep. Swiss watches as his finger descends, Mountain watches his face. “And besides, you smell so delicious, I couldn’t possibly stay away.” 

The bigger ghoul falters for a moment, brow furrowing in slight confusion at his confession. 

“You could smell me?” 

Swiss finally meets his eyes and there’s a dangerous glint somewhere in there as his finger continues to linger on his skin, dragging down, down, down until his touch is feather-light. 

“Always. I know your schedule like the back of my hand, dirt boy.” 

Mountain glances upwards towards the rusted vent in the ceiling and Swiss chuckles in a way that makes him flash hot with embarrassment. He’s certainly heard more than he’d like to admit of Swiss’ late night rides and grinds – as has the other – but he had no idea that he could smell him. 

His eyes darken and he tsks at the multi ghoul, “you naughty ghoul…” 

Swiss’ finger drifts over to flick at a pebbled nipple before pulling away and shifting his weight back onto his heels, arms crossed across his chest. “Keep doing what you were doing,” he says and motions to him with a flick of his hand. “I wanna watch.” 

Now that Mountain knows what is up, he is happy to perform. He jerks his dick in long, slow strokes, kicking his pants off the rest of the way so that he can spread his knees and show all of himself off. Swiss stands just in front of him, so close yet so tantalizingly far away, watching intently with lust-blown eyes as the ruddy head of his cock appears and disappears in his fist. 

His hands are filthy, it’s obvious he’d made the decision not to wash them, and a sticky combination of fertilizer and dirt create a muddy residue that makes his dick all gritty and messy. Something about that is arousing. 

“Not afraid to get a little dirty, huh?” Swiss asks, eyes still fixed on his ministrations. 

Mountain rubs the muddy concoction into the folds of his foreskin and hums all pretty, ignoring the accusation in favor of being a little nasty. He likes nasty. 

“I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked you over a fresh bag of mulch before.” 

“Well we don’t have to get into specifics…”

“A little uncharacteristic of you now, is it not?” 

Swiss rolls his eyes dramatically and tells the other ghoul to scoot back further onto the bed. Then he peels off his own pants, his hard cock springing up to attention and bobbing as he walks forward to crawl into the massive earth ghoul’s lap, camera placed adjacent to them on the bed. It’s on, blinking and ready for whenever he decides to use it. 

Swiss gives himself a few strokes for good measure and to make sure he’s at full mast (he is) and keeps his eyes trained on the way that Mountain matches his pace with his own hand. He glances up and finds those pretty green eyes that are as blown out as his own and surges forward to capture his chapped lips in a kiss. 

It’s less of a kiss that they fall into, and more of a spit-slicked, open mouthed tangle of tongues. They steal each other's air when it escapes from their lungs and drink in each other’s noises that they make in their throat, replacing them with new ones until they’re throbbing in their hands and Swiss is moaning from the fresh bite of mint lingering on Mountain’s tongue. He tastes better than he imagined he would, and he sucks the taste directly from the source, drinking up the saliva that’s laced deliciously with the cool herb. 

“What’ve you been up to in there, hmm? Taste good.” 

Both of their voice’s are breathless, spoken directly into the other’s mouth. 

Mountain tugs at the flared ridge of his head and groans deep in his chest, “come visit me sometime and I’ll give you a tour.” 

Swiss pulls him in again by a hand on the back of his nape, biting on his swollen bottom lip and sucking on the tip of his tongue, and in the heat of it all Mountain nudges his hand away from his cock to slide their lengths together. The feeling of hot, slick skin against hot, slick skin makes both of them shudder all the way up their spines and the noises they make could make a demon blush. 

It’s Swiss who breaks their devouring kiss to peer down and watch as Mountain works their lengths together in one of his overly large hands. Some of the dirt already begins to rub off onto his underside. 

Mountain’s fat tip kisses Swiss’ frenulum with each and every stroke, sending intense jolts of pleasure up his spine with every little touch, no matter how intense. 

It feels way too good just to be rubbing their cocks together, and it looks even better. 

Mountain is so large. The sheer size of his girthy appendage nearly dwarfs Swiss’ own (which is no easy feat), and despite Swiss sitting atop his thighs, Mountain’s tip nearly matches up with him in length. Swiss reaches in to gather up a slick combination of their pre on his middle and index fingers and smears the digits over the other ghoul’s lips. He pushes them into his mouth and Mountain sucks gently, cleaning them with his tongue until they're clean and holding dangerous eye contact the entire time that he does. 

Gold and green, gold and green, gold and green…

They’re lucky it’s not mating season– the sight of him with his fingers in his mouth makes Swiss’ belly flip a million times. 

“The things you do to me…” he whispers, nearly inaudible, and Mountain parts his lips to let out a breathy laugh, carding his clean hand through Swiss’ thick curls and tugging his head back towards the ceiling. Swiss’ fingers slip out past his teeth coated in saliva. Swiss sucks it off. 

When Mountain suddenly decides to use both of his hands to get them off, squeezing an twisting his wrist and creating a pocket for them to fuck in tandem, Swiss feels himself being guided rapidly towards the edge of euphoria – and much faster than he’d anticipated. Both of their cocks are flushed dark and so shiny, and Swiss begins to spit curses through his teeth when Mountain shifts his magic touch to their leaking heads. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Mountain gasps out against Swiss’ jaw. He nips at the skin with his teeth, “are you gonna cum with me?” 

He almost sounds desperate. 

“No,” Swiss forces out. He surprises himself with how sure he sounds. The tightening in his balls begs to differ. Mountain’s brow scrunches together and he drops his jaw, clearly doing his best to stave off his impending orgasm. 

With the last ounce of control he has left, Swiss reaches for the camera, lining up the shot blindly at where they’re pressed so hotly together. 

“Want it just like this,” he moans and Mountain grips them both at the base, “so hard, so flushed, fuck, Mount, you’re so big…” 

Mountain lets out a moan that's so loud he has to throw his head back towards the ceiling to get it out. The muscles in his abdomen ripple and go hard. 

“Swiss– I’m gonna-” 

“Don’t you dare ruin my shot.” 

“Fuck, you’re such an asshole-” 

Swiss bites his lip hard between his teeth when Mountain’s cock jerks and jumps pressed flush against the underside of his own. 

“Shut up and flex it. Do that again.” 

Mountain gives them another tight stroke then holds them firmly together at the base, exhibiting them in all their filthiest glory for the lens. A thin string of pre connects their leaking heads and the realization makes Swiss jerk violently, balls tightening, and he forces his finger to press down on the button milliseconds before he shoots hot and thick all over his own thighs and Mountain’s fingers. 

“So much for not cumming,” Mountain teases, cheeks pink and forehead slick with sweat, but his little poke at the other gets cut short when Swiss wraps his hand tightly around his cock. “Whatever. We got the damn picture…”

#mountain ghoul #the polaroid collection #picture this #mountain x swiss #swiss ghoul #p1nk ficlet

[p1nkcanoe]

the polaroid collection: rain

this is part five of the polaroid collection, based off of 'picture this'. you can either find the masterlist here, read on ao3, or read below:

!! Some themes may be triggering, proceed with caution. Rain is completely submissive for swiss and is described as being “brainless” and with “blank eyes” while also being played with by the other. Everything in this chapter is completely consensual but the conversation is not explicitly mentioned in the chapter, only implied. Still, if any of these themes are not for you, please do not feel obligated to read. Your comfort comes first! <3

He looks so pretty like this — down on his knees. 

Submissive. 

Compliant. 

The wetness brimming his eyes only adds to the twisted feeling Swiss feels in his gut as he leans over the water ghoul who is so nicely settled back on his calves and stripped bare. Wet, covered in a layer of sweat and soaked in a puddle of his own slick. His strong right hand rests gently against the front of Rain’s neck, the calloused pads of his fingers pressing ever so gently into that artery there. He doesn’t squeeze. He isn’t cruel – not yet. He simply holds him there, still, where he sits while the blood beneath his skin pulses under his touch and Rain’s breath hitches rhythmically under his palm. Waiting patiently in anticipation. 

When his shoulders suddenly slump inwards and his abdominal muscles go tight, Swiss tsks. A soft click of the tongue – he cannot believe his own eyes. The water ghoul shudders and shivers like there’s an electric current dancing just under his skin, and then he’s cumming over the pretty skin of his thighs, cock twitching and jumping as it spurts weakly and adds to the mess of his other two orgasms that he’s previously squirted over the top of them. 

What a mess… Someone will have to clean this up. 

Rain’s jaw hangs lax and heavy against the thin webbing between Swiss’ thumb and index finger and he watches as a little more light drains from his eyes despite how they shine so beautifully with his tears. A rich shade of brown goes dark and dull. Flooded with nothingness. 

So dramatic, Swiss thinks… 

He wouldn’t have him any other way. 

“Good,” Swiss praises, nice and simple, and wipes away a tear with his thumb when it carves a thick line down his cheek. Just the feeling of his fingers on his face makes Rain fall further into his touch like a purring feline. Swiss traces the swell of his swollen lips and his dark lashes flutter, his eyes rolling back in his skull when the digit makes its way inside of his mouth to press down on the center of his tongue. His breath gets caught in his throat. 

Swiss hums, considering his current state. If he wasn’t carefully monitoring his quickening pulse with his hands he would’ve thought he was really choking him with the way his body reacts to simple gestures and prodding. 

Perhaps he’s dropped further than he thought. 

Rain is so flushed with raw desire and blush that his usual, dusty blue hue is nearly purple. Lavender in color. Gorgeous. His chest blooms with patches of heat rash and shades of pastel and plum and is spattered with the other’s release. He looks like art — like a canvas touched by Jackson Pollock – and Swiss is more than proud of his work. 

But Satanas, what a mess he is… 

The multi ghoul straightens up to his full height, bending at the waist only slightly to wrap a fist around the dainty gold chain connecting Rain’s nipples and pull, tugging him forward by the jewelry while he gasps and cries out until his throat is raw. 

Swiss pulls and tugs impatiently, forcing the ghoul to use his body and move until his perfectly sculpted nose becomes reacquainted with his tummy. The dense curls there tickle his sensitive skin. He nuzzles into them to revel in how they caress his cheeks and get caught slightly in the short prickle of his unshaved face. 

It’s a guilty pleasure of his – Swiss knows this – but usually he’s far too high or caught in the inescapable holds of sleep before he gives into it. Now, when he’s gone stupid, there is no better time to allow him to indulge. 

Swiss lays a hand to the back of his hand and encourages him further. Rain bows inwards at the shoulders and the notches of his spine press against the center of his back as he presses in closer, reaching that space where his tummy hair turns to coarse pubic hair and sniffing him there. Good and deep. 

He’s richest here. His heady scent settles thick in Rain’s head like morning fog over the lake and the water ghoul can’t hold back the sudden urge to sink his teeth into him. He needs to taste and get him on his tongue. It’s purely instinctual, driven by the devil that lives inside of him. He drags his swollen lips upwards along the skin of his abdomen and leaves a trail of saliva as he goes, and when he gets to the soft swell of fat just beneath the multi ghoul’s belly button, he sucks his dusky skin into his mouth and bites. 

Rain is lucky that Swiss doesn’t make the quick decision to punish him for it. 

Especially when his fangs threaten to break through and his jaw begins to tighten like a dog with a rubber toy. 

Swiss hisses, drops a hand to grip him firmly under his jaw, and digs his thumb into the hollow space between his upper and lower jaw in an attempt to encourage him to release. Rain makes a noise that’s somewhere between a growl and a moan and Swiss digs his digit in deeper. This time, it’s a warning.  

At least he’ll bruise beautifully – it’s a sacred claim that the multi ghoul usually leaves on the other spontaneously during nights of passion and heat. It’ll be an honor to carry the mark of the water ghoul on his tummy for everyone to see. He’ll show it off to everyone, show how he got Rain – who has never been big on biting or leaving lingering marks of any kind – to bite. 

When Rain finally releases him from between his teeth his skin is already an angry red and sore, and the outline of his entire maw bruised instantaneously into his skin causes his dick to throb and hit the other just under his chin, leaving a tender kiss of pre over his adam’s apple. Rain pets his fingers over the mark and the tips of his claws dip into the impressions of his fangs. He apologizes for his bite with a lazy kiss. 

His lips feel like they’re on fire; his tongue hot as coals. Swiss should punish him for it, but he won’t. This time he’ll give him a pass. 

Swiss peers down at him as he admires his work with hooded eyes, like he’s proud of himself. If there’s actually any thoughts in his head he’d be surprised. The dumb bastard. Rain had gone brainless while bouncing on his cock more than half an hour ago. Still, as he leans in to lick at the marks again, Swiss shakes his head and thinks of other ways that he could be far more useful with his mouth.. 

He tilt’s Rain’s head upwards and meets his eyes. They’re so dark, so shiny, and so empty. Flooded with nothing. Hollow in the head. He tuts, releasing his jaw and letting his head slump forward to pet away the messy curls that had fallen in his face. Also effectively managing to comb some of his own cum from earlier in between the ebony strands. 

Swiss’ fingers are like a magic touch. Rain manages to lift his head on his own so that he can present his tongue to the ghoul who then runs his hand down the side of his face to pull his bottom lip down with the rough pad of his thumb. Once again his jaw drops with it and this time Swiss reaches for his dick, lining it up with his mouth so he can slip it in over his tongue. Rain moans sweetly, nice and low and drawn out.

He takes it so well, so eager, just like he has been for however long they’ve been here.

The plug in Rain’s ass buzzes when he settles back on his heels and sinks into the floor, Swiss’s length sliding across his tongue and coating it entirely in pre. He moans so beautifully at the taste and begins to close his lips around it to suck like the good boy he is, but Swiss is quick to stick his finger into the corner of his mouth and press down on his molars, effectively and silently probing him to open back up. 

He’s just testing his mouth for now. Testing his patience and ability to follow simple tasks while his melted brain floods with his scent and taste (and definitely not taking it slow because he might still be a little sensitive from his last orgasm and Rain like this makes him harder than steel). 

Admittedly, Swiss is being greedy. He’s being selfish, and Rain is more than willing to be the one he uses to stick his dick into to abuse. He’s been used to his limits and beyond, plugged, and toyed with, and all for Swiss’ own amusement and pleasure. The orgasms painted over his pretty thighs had been unexpected bonuses – ones that led to both pleasure and pain at times with sensitivity and overstimulation – but welcome nonetheless. At this point he can barely remember his own name. The only thing that bounces around in his head is everything that has to do with Swiss and the sound of the word ‘please’, though he has yet to let it slip from his lips a single time. That’s not his fault, though. His mouth has been rather full. 

Swiss feels so heavy against his tongue. He can feel all of him – the flared ridge of his head, the vein throbbing on the side… Swiss crowds further into his space and Rain hums when his balls tease his chin. Somehow his scent manages to get stronger. His pubic hair tickles his nose. Swiss gives him another centimeter before he ruts. 

The sudden intrusion into his throat is more than surprising and Rain gags. He isn’t physically affected by it further than the hideous noise that erupts from his throat and the violent spasm in his belly, and he certainly isn’t mentally affected by it by any means. But Swiss cups his face sweetly anyways and pulls out enough so that the tip kisses his teeth, offering him a second to recover and settle his stomach – though he doesn’t seem to need it – before sliding back in over his tongue and playing with the back of his throat. This time, there’s no question whether or not he’ll slide deeper, it’s just a matter of when. 

Rain’s nostrils flare wildly as Swiss toys with him, his eyes going dull again starting from the center right before Swiss guides his head just right and pushes his dick deep into that tight, hot throat. His gills are closed tight. Both the sets on his neck and on his sides. He isn’t sure why he’s not using them apart from the assumption that perhaps he’s enjoying the struggle. Or maybe he’s beyond being able to realize he has the unique ability to breathe with a cock in his throat. 

Pathetic fucker. 

It’s hard to feel bad for him. 

The air gets warmer the more that Swiss thrusts into his mouth and it’s not long before the sweat begins to accumulate on the back of his thighs, threatening to gather and drip down like the tears that gather along Rain’s waterline. His pretty lashes are pulled together in thick, wet clumps by the wetness that clings from them, and Swiss watches rapt as one finally wells up enough to escape from the corner of his right eye and crawl downwards towards his chin. 

It’s a crime how beautiful he is, even when he’s barely there. 

Rain swallows around him and his throat spasms and clicks around his cock. Swiss pushes in that much deeper until he tickles the tip of Rain’s nose with the dense curls at the base of his cock. The pressure from his strong hips pushes Rain backwards slightly and the plug buzzes aggressively against the floor. 

If the sound of the toy hadn’t rung into his ears then Swiss would’ve forgotten about the toy in his ass that he worked in there himself. The water ghoul has become so stupid – so numb to the feeling – that he barely reacts when Swiss places a hand on his shoulder to force him further into the boards beneath him, forcing the plug in deeper and more insistent against that spot inside of him. 

He knows he can feel it. He should. 

Rain doesn’t so much as twitch. 

His other hand makes it’s way around Rain’s curling right horn, using it as a handle to drag the ghoul’s head over the length of his cock as he fucks his throat. He pulls him off slowly just to listen for the moment that he desperately sucks in a breath just to plunge back in with a force that he should feel bad for. But Rain takes it, and the toy continues to buzz, and the chain pinched tight to either side of his chest swings and glints under the light with every glorious slide across his lazy tongue. 

“Touch yourself,” Swiss demands of him, voice rough and gravely and thick with desire, and he watches as the ghoul beneath him moves languidly to wrap a loose fist around his dick, which is suspended in a strange state between being hard and soft, yet still leaking obscenely over his skin and down between his trembling thighs. His muscles flex and go slack like they’re made of rubber instead of flesh and protein – uncoordinated and spastic – moving in an uneven rhythm of quick jerks and loose tugs that cannot be pleasurable. The cock in his mouth has muddled his brain and ruined his ability to do one of the easiest tasks that ghouls are capable of:  

Fuck, breed, obey your master, and get off. 

Swiss reminds him that he can do better than what his pathetic body is presenting as an excuse for masturbation. His words are spat with poison; sharp and cruel. 

“Secondo in his coffin could do a better job at getting his crumbling dick to spurt than whatever you’re doing right now. Give me something more or I’ll just have to go find something else to stick my dick into to make it shoot.” 

It’s an empty threat, he knows it, but it makes the water ghoul whine and tug harder, another tear slipping from the other eye and dancing its way down into the space where his lips wrap around Swiss. It disappears. 

Rain tugs at his purple head with a limp wrist, a sob bubbling up from his chest when Swiss demands him to cum again. 

He’s too weak to disobey. He pulls at himself once, twice, a third time, and then somehow he manages to do it. 

Though the volume he offers him is entirely unacceptable. 

Swiss shakes his head and pulls roughly on his horn, forcing his sticky face as far onto his cock as he can get him, and forcing him to take all of his dick until he really and truly chokes. Rain’s throat rejects him over and over, the tears running hot over his cheeks, and Swiss tries to count how many orgasms have been spilled over his skin in his head before deciding when to pull out. When he finally does, his face gets shoved immediately back into Swiss’ tummy. 

Rain reacts like the man is his savior, wrapping his arms around one of his thighs and jerking his hips forward to press Swiss’ shin right up against his twitching, spent excuse for a dick. It’s only then with his slimmer body pressed so close that Swiss realizes that Rain is shaking as he clutches him. He digs his sharp claws into the strong meat of his thighs, palms slick and sticky with the sweat that's accumulated there, and Swiss rubs the back of his head gently as he mouths wordlessly at his tummy. 

“Calm yourself,” he says and the water ghoul mumbles incoherently. Sounds, not words. “The worst is yet to come. I need you with me. I’m gonna fuck your face and you’re gonna take it like the good boy that you are. You’re gonna take all of it and you’re not gonna complain because there’s nothing left behind those eyes, is there?” Rain tilts his hips upwards – a poor attempt to hump his leg – and Swiss grabs a fistful of his cum-stained locks and forces the back of his head downwards so he’ll look up at him. “And when I’m done I’m gonna paint this pretty face, get it all filthy, and I’m gonna take a picture. Later I’ll let you look at it so you can see how much of a stupid whore you are. All dumb on my dick and covered in your own cum. Covered in mine…” 

A broken moan tears from Rain’s throat and he goes limp at the proposition, held up only by the bruising grip to his hair. 

Swiss flicks his eyes over his face, taking in the deep blush and the irritation on his cheeks from his own hands, and the emptiness in his eyes, reduced to rich, chocolatey orbs. His mouth, slick with a mixture of spit and pre, beckons him in. 

“You seem ready enough.” 

Swiss bends slightly at the knees to account for how much the ghoul has slackened and slides the head of his dick over his lips just to add to the mess. Then he tells the other to sit up, grabbing him securely by the sides of his face and tilting his head up slightly to get the perfect angle and to watch the moment that his pretty face takes him. 

Just as he said he would, he fucks his face. He thrusts into his mouth in hard and quick movements, harsh snaps of his hips that will bruise his throat and make him choke long after he’s pulled out. His balls slap against his chin and Rain makes the most obscene noises. So wet, so loud, so nasty, and each one settles deep in Swiss’ belly, stoking the fire and building up the flames that make up his impending, final orgasm. 

He has to make this one good. This is the money shot, and he’s spit more cum on the poor ghoul tonight alone to never make him think about cumming again. To be honest, he wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if he cums dry. 

Rain’s hands grab and grip and grope at Swiss’ thighs as he reaches for the camera and turns the machine on with a quiet push of a button. He kneads at the skin and digs into the soft skin at his inner thighs with his claws. It’s like he’s trying to get inside. He’s desperate, greedy for more despite how Swiss is taking everything he wants from him and more. 

Swiss angles the viewfinder downwards and looks through the small hole. Rain’s image is reflected back at him through the slightly distorted lens. He whines again, as if asking for him to take it. 

Such an impatient little thing. 

Swiss punches his hips forward and hovers his finger over the button. 

“Satanas, look at you. Is my cock shoved down your throat not enough? So fucked stupid that you managed to convince yourself that you need more?”  

Rain hums around him, rutting against his calf like a drunk ghoul in rut. It’s the best Swiss will get for an answer, so he grants him his desires and shoves his dick so far down his throat that even Dew would be proud of him for taking it so deep. Rain’s eyes roll back in his head, finally pleased, and Swiss feels his balls tighten up all at once at the sight and feeling of it all. 

He pulls out of that warm, wet hole so quick that Rain doesn’t have the chance to chase him before he’s tugging at himself with quick pulls and cumming over Rain’s face in thick ropes. The camera in his hand gets clutched tight to his chest, image shaky and unfocused as his other arm adeptly works himself over the edge. 

The first rope lands in his eyebrow and glues together his lashes, following the crooked line of his nose down to his upper lip and painting the ghoul’s teeth in brilliant, pearlescent white. His spend drips from one of his shiny fangs like forbidden icing. The second follows its tail and lands right over his tongue and chin, down over his neck and kissing the edges of his gills. Whatever else he manages to give him paints him so nicely, so filthy, but Swiss can barely stay upright on his feet, too consumed in the pleasure of an orgasm he lost count of and the terrible, terrible sob that Rain cries out as his spent cock cums completely dry – not a single drop for evidence except for the terrible sobs and spasms that wrack through his exhausted frame. 

At least there’s enough semen covering his thighs, face, and chest to make up for it. 

“Look up at me, Rainy,” Swiss pants, still attempting to catch his breath and calm the incessant pounding of his heart in his ribs. He brings the camera back up to his face, smearing the plastic frame with the little amount of his own spend stuck to his fingers. “Show the camera what you earned.” 

Rain tends to not be the best listener. He’s usually a brat in the bedroom who loves to be spoiled and always has to be the center of attention. Following rules and being compliant isn’t really his thing. Tonight, though, is different. The sound of Swiss’ voice in his ears sounds like a song and the filthy mess that covers him from head to toe makes him feel like he’s a work of art, something to display on the wall, so when Swiss points the lens down in his direction and tells him to open up, he does. He listens. 

The water ghoul straightens up and shows off his chest, all messy, covered in cum and sweat and flush, his swollen nipples connected with a chain that doesn't belong to him, and spreads his knees, exposing the sticky puddle of slick beneath his hips. His face needs no further explanation – the mental image of pure debauchery will haunt the multi ghoul in his deepest dreams until the day he’s sent back to the pit. 

He flutters his lashes – the ones not covered in semen – and opens his mouth, letting his tongue extend far past his lips to drip a foul combination of cum and spit onto the floorboards below. 

Fully submissive. Thoroughly fucked out. He’s gorgeous. 

“Fucking shit, Rainy,” Swiss breathes through gritted teeth, his body reacting violently to the sight of him. “Such a good boy-” He carefully tucks a curl behind Rain’s ear. The water ghoul purrs, rumbling deep in his chest at the gesture. “-That is what good boys receive. You deserve all of it and more.” 

He feels it, the power of his honeyed words – his chest blooming with warmth. 

He’s a good boy. Swiss’ good boy. It’s all he’s ever wanted. 

The smallest smile creeps across Rain’s lips, his cheeks dimpling. 

Swiss captures it all with a flash.

#we are so back #rain ghoul #nsft #the polaroid collection #picture this #rulti #p1nk ficlet #swiss ghoul

[p1nkcanoe]

Pink... pink pls can we get cum bulge or something with Dew and Mountain? I'm on my knees begging

!! anatomy isn't accurate or whatever, but it's fanfiction and i'm drunk so who gives a shit?

“I know you can take another one–you can–you want it?” 

“Yes,” Dew grunts in between Mountain’s thrusts pistoning into his ass, mouth open wide, breathing hard. He’s so full of Mountain’s cum already, it leaks from his hole and sticks to his thighs, but Mountain keeps giving it to him, keeps promising him more, and he can’t find it in himself to say no. They’ve been going for what feels like hours. Dew’s legs feel like jelly, his hole abused. 

“I’m gonna give it to you–gonna–oh–” The hold on his skinny hips tightens impossibly tighter and in a moment he’s falling boneless in Mountain’s hands as he floods his ass with another load. 

Dew’s cum so many times that he hasn’t even gotten close in the last thirty minutes. He’s painted Mountain’s and his own chest in his own spend and his cock is so thoroughly spent, so sensitive, that the slightest brush of the underside of his head against Mountain’s stomach makes him cry out in overstimulation. Mountain’s in rut, it hits every year around this time, and Dew just happened to be the (un)lucky guy to take his knot… Over and over and over again. The big guy’s insatiable, relying on stamina rather than instinct to drive him to completion, and Dew doesn’t know how much longer he can take it.

“Look,” Mountain grunts. He slows his thrusts and leans the little ghoul back on his cock. “Look how pretty your belly is.” 

Dew looks down, down at the messy skin of his stomach, and what he sees makes his breath catch in his throat and his dick jump for the first time in many minutes. The usually flat plane of his stomach is round, bulging just under the soft skin near his belly button. Pretty. Mountain thrusts up and pushes his huge cock wholly inside, hitting Dew deep in those sensitive areas and sending him mewling. “Look,” Mountain says again and slides the palm of his hand from his hip around to his belly. He pushes into the soft flesh, feeling himself inside there and moaning low and drawn out when he feels himself inside. “So pretty.” 

Dew hums, drops his eyes to Mountain’s hand pushing in and in and in. His face feels impossibly hot along with every inch of his skin. 

“Just imagine how pretty you’ll look when you catch. When your belly swells all big with my kit.” 

“Wait–what?”

“Gonna breed you so good, get you so full that there’s no way you won’t catch.” 

Dew sputters, places his hands on Mountain’s pecs and tries to push away but Mountain wraps his hands around his back, pulls him down flush on his cock and into his strong chest. Dew shakes his head, “Wait, dude. Cmon–”

“You want it, I know you do. I can feel you around me, pulling me in, begging for my seed…” 

Mountain attaches himself to Dew’s neck, adds to the necklace of purple and red bruises around his collarbones with sharp teeth and tongue. Dew claws at sweaty skin, carves lines down his chest. Mountain groans, holds him tighter and gives him another mind melting thrust that sends Dew’s eyes rolling into the back of his skull. “Fuck, Mountain. What’s gotten into you?” 

“Just keep taking it. One more. Can you do that for me? One more–that’s all it’ll take…” 

Dew wants so badly to object, to tell the massive ghoul off and tell him to knock it off, but the rut-lost look on his features is too much to deny and his dick is too good, too hard in his ass, and he looks down, cries out when he realizes his dick is filling back out against his own desires. The bulge in his tummy continues to swell. 

Mountain wraps his arms tight around the ghoul’s waist, lifts him up so he can lick over the center of his sternum, and slams him back down in once motion sending the ghoul reeling for purchase on his shoulders. His thrusts stay brutal and bruising after that and Dew holds on for the ride. The head of his cock rubs against Mountain’s belly, drags through the mousey hair that leads from his chest all the way down and tickles his frenulum. He’s close before he realizes it, fueled by the desperate noises that fall from Mountain’s lips and the ever-growing bulge of his knot against his hole. “Cmon, Mount,” he gasps. “Give it to me.” 

“You want it?”

Dew cringes, nods despite knowing what the ghoul really wants. “Yeah, I want it.” 

“Then beg for it.” 

And against all thoughts in his brain, he does.

#p1nk ficlet #mountain x dew #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul

[p1nkcanoe]

swiss riding aether or mountain (the big boys) spoiler warning: he cries

Swiss should’ve kept his mouth shut. He should’ve never poked the bear just to get a rise and see if Aether would actually do anything. Because it turns out, he will. 

“I don’t know,” Swiss had said, sighed dramatically and shrugged his shoulders while nursing the rest of his tea from breakfast. “I just wanna feel it, y’know? I haven’t really felt it in a long time. Nothing really does it for me anymore.” 

He’d taken a drink, side eyed the quintessence ghoul from where he sat at the end of the table, silently completing his crossword leftover from yesterday morning. “And what would it be?” He’d asked. Bored. Wholly unamused and ignoring the obvious bait the multi ghoul had casted out.  

“I wanna feel it. Wanna be fucked to the edge like I used to be. And don’t even say you can because you’ve gone all soft on me the last couple times.” 

Rain, adjacent from him, raises his eyebrows and flicks his eyes between the two, suddenly intrigued by the ghoul's stupidity. 

“Oh, yeah? Is that so?”

“Yeah. You always hold back.” 

Aether looks up over the top of his glasses, nods, and gets back to his crossword. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

And he had. 

Hours later and Aether had caught Swiss while he was walking through the halls, had pushed him into his bedroom and locked the door tight, made him strip. Now he’s got him posed over his hips with his arms crossed tight across the center of his back and his tail squeezed tight around a fist. He holds him upright and still, pounds his cock into that hole and shows that ghoul exactly how soft he’s become. Swiss screams until his throat goes raw, cries out into the room with every muscle tense in his lean body, and just takes it. 

It’s brutal. Animalistic. Aether groans and growls from below him, holding him tighter every time he tries to squirm or get away from the bruising force of the cock pistoning into his ass. His knees ache, his thighs burn, and his hole gets used over and over and over. Abused. And he takes every second of it because he asked for this. It may not have been exactly what he had in mind when he’d poked the ghoul and made his admission, but who’s gonna complain about getting their brains fucked out by the thickest cock in the abbey? Swiss sucks up the snot that’s begun to clog his nose and squeezes his eyes shut to try and rid his vision of the tears that refuse to stop flowing. He pays the price now and he’ll feel the consequences tomorrow. 

“Oh don’t look so comfortable,” Aether grunts from behind him. Sarcasm drips like poison from his fangs. He feels another brutal thrust enter him and chokes on his voice. “We can’t have that, can we? We need you to feel it. Do you feel it yet? Is it too much yet?” 

His breathing is heavy and labored, pushed out between his breaths, but Swiss knows better than to point it out. So he lets his knees slide open across the sheets and he sits, grinds his ass deep onto that cock and tries his best to grind with his arms so painfully trapped against his spine. It hurts. He’s not supposed to bend this way despite how much he wants to. But Aeth is right, he needs to feel it. He will. He cries out from behind gritted teeth. 

“Get up. On your feet.” 

One of Aether’s hands holds his arms while the other maneuvers him awkwardly to plant his feet flat on the mattress. He switches hands to fix the other foot. Swiss squats, speared on top of him with his thighs up by his chest. It’s a position he’s never been folded into before and it makes his muscles burn even more. It’s delicious. Like fire. 

“Bounce on me. Go ahead, be the little slut you are and bounce on that cock.” 

He tries. The angle is weird. So is the inability to bounce without the aid of your arms. He barely lifts himself up an inch before his body gives out on him and he slides back down with a punched huff. 

Aeth spits, grinds his dick up so hard that Swiss swears he’s trying to get his balls inside, too. “Fucking useless. Always making me do all the work.” It’s hard to argue when your body feels like pulled taffy. Aeth uses his arms as his leverage, pulls him up and down his cock just by the strength of his arms and meets him halfway on the drop with devastating punches of his hips. Swiss feels every thrust in his throat. He howls, chokes on a sob, and new tears force themselves from his eyes with every drop of his useless body. He feels it. Finally, he feels it.

#p1nk ficlet #swiss ghoul #aether ghoul #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #ghost bc

[p1nkcanoe]

Cumulus riding Swiss' face <3

!! mean cumulus, smacking, oral sex, face sitting

“Insatiable whore,” Cumulus spits, “Listen to yourself, begging for my pussy.” 

Swiss moans from below the ghoulette, digs his fingers into the plush fat of her hips and squeezes. He’s got his face buried in her pussy, a privilege she’d granted him for his recent, inexcusable behavior. He’s been whoring himself out on stage, grinding on equipment, and causing other members of the pack to mess up cues and solos that should be muscle memory, and frankly Cumulus had been sick of him getting away with it.  

“It’s about time someone puts you in your place. Make you think about something other than your cock. And you’re gonna like every second of it, aren’t you?” 

The ghoul whines, hooks his arms around the meat of her thighs and holds her in place while he sucks hard at her clit with his eyes squeezed tight. Every word that falls from Cumulus’ cherry-lipped mouth sends a dagger into his gut and twists until he’s filled with burning hot shame and arousal. He loves it–of course he does–she knows it too, so she keeps it coming, spits poison and toxin at his face so that he knows exactly how greedy he’s been. The bed creaks when Cumulus grabs the ghoul by his horns and forces his mouth further against her pussy, shaking his head in quick, back and forth motions so his hot tongue rubs deliciously against her swollen bud and he breathes broken sounds through his mouth left ajar. 

If Cumulus could keep Swiss held there forever, she would. She’d ride his tongue and use his mouth until she came over and over and over again. But it’s not long before her thighs begin to shake and her knees ache from the bend and she’s forced against her own desires to lift up higher on her knees and find a more comfortable position. Swiss digs his claws into her flesh the moment her muscles flex and she hisses, struggles to pry his claws from her thighs while he so desperately tries to pull her back into his mouth. “No, no, no, no, no – please, no. Come back.” He’s babbling, stupid and drunk on her sex, and the flooded onyx of his pupils causes Cumulus to scoff. 

“Give me a second, my knees ache like a bitch.” 

“Come back, sit on my face, please.”

He scrambles for a hold on her curves and she shoves his hands away. When he doesn’t get the point she raises a hand and brings it down across a cheek shiny with her slick. The ghoul yelps, freezes in place. Keeps his hands to himself. 

“Satan below, you’re obnoxious.” 

For once, his lips stay sealed. She uses the brief moment to shimmy her hips more squarely over his mouth, still hovering and looking down at the ghoul reduced to pathetic little whimpers and shaking hands pleading to touch. She’s wet, dripping with a combination of her own slick and his saliva, and she decides to torture him a little longer when she drops a hand to her folds and spreads her self open with two fingers in a ‘V’. He mewls, squeezes his eyes shut and throws his head back against crumpled sheets. The sight makes a twisted little smirk curl on red lips and finally, finally, she guides his hesitant hands back to her ass. 

The ghoulette never lowers herself back down, never sits, and Swiss doesn’t seem to mind. He meets her where she kneels, uses his core to reach her folds and runs the point of his tongue back and forth in a mastered flicking pattern that has Cumulus rolling her eyes back and her mouth falling open in a silent ‘O’, a punched noise escaping her throat when he drops his chin and tongues into her hole. 

“Fuck,” she moans, breathless, and shoves him back into the mattress with a forceful shove to his forehead. He immediately tries to fight her hand. Pathetic whore.

“Give it to–” he starts. 

“Do you ever shut up?” 

Her question goes unanswered, or at least gets stifled by the drop of thick thighs on either side of his head, smothering him completely in her sex. The deep, drawn out noise he makes burns at her belly and he runs the flat of his palms up her back, flexing and pulling at the center of her back to make her arch. 

He devours her like a man starved, and she knows he can’t breathe with the position in which she’s sitting. She keeps an eye on him, watches how he licks and sucks and shakes his head, and she tries to sit back or raise up even a fraction of an inch to give him a chance to breathe–he refuses to let her go. Every tension of her muscles causes him to dig in with his claws, pricking droplets of blood into smooth, smoke-colored skin on her back, ass, and thighs. 

He sucks in a desperate breath, using the angle to loll out his tongue and allow her to ride. And she does, offers him a moment to catch his breath despite how her clit bumps against his nose with every drag across the muscle. It’s a lazy intermission; it won’t get her off. But Swiss seems to be enjoying it at least. He jerks his hips up into nothing behind her, sobs for more without any real tears, and he’s moving too much to keep Cumulus where she wants to be. So she leans back. She leans back and plants her hands flat on his abdomen, drops all of her weight into her hands and pins him down so he’ll stop moving. 

“If you're gonna eat it, at least eat it right. Make me cum, make yourself useful." 

Enough said. 

He attaches himself to her hole, licks her out and drinks up her juices until they run down his chin, and when she’s licked clean he suckles back onto her clit and puts everything he has left into pleasuring his ghoulette. 

Her belly tightens quickly and she leans further back, feeling the muscles of his abdomen tensing under her palms. He chases her when her hips lift slightly, pulls her back down and forces her into an angle that she rarely bends into. A whine escapes her lips. It hurts in all of the best ways. She grinds once, twice, rolls her hips into the stimulation and chases the heat that builds rapidly, threatening to spill over. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.. Cmon swiss, use that mouth. Make me cum the way I know you can.” 

And he does. He licks her when she crests over, holds her tighter and gropes at her gorgeous curves that he loves more than anything while she shakes and closes her thighs tight around his ears. 

When she finally raises up and off of the ghoul, he’s dazed, drunk, and covered from his cheeks to his chin in her fluids. He’s a whining mess, dragging his fingers through his mustache and shoving them into his mouth to continue tasting her. 

Cumulus shakes her head, “filthy…” and reaches around to slap his dick. Hard. He nearly screams and caves inwards on himself. The harsh vocalization breaks into a moan and he locks golden eyes with the ghoulette. 

“Do it again.” 

#p1nk ficlet #cumulus x swiss #cumulus ghoulette #swiss ghoul

[p1nkcanoe]

@ the last post consider: Mountain finds Swiss using the toys that can cum and he tuts at him “Aw, is my poor boy feeling starved?”

and Swiss’s mind immediately goes !!!

Mountain takes a nice cool cloth and wipes him down and captures Swiss’s lips in a sloppy kiss.

“I’ll paint you with the real thing you demon.”

— this was supposed to be short and sweet and then i spiraled, so here's almost 1.5k words of smud

He’d tried to be quiet, he really had, but it’s hard to keep your mouth shut when you’re watching yourself become more and more debauched by a collection of gorgeous cocks in every shape and color and size. 

“Come on,” Swiss breathes into the quiet of his room, his face pressed against the carpet and his ass in the air. “Breed me.” He shifts his knees to press one right onto the end of the pump’s bulb and moans loud and obscene when a flood of fake cum floods inside from the silicone cock stuffed deep in his hole. His neck aches from the stretch but he has to see it–he has to watch how his hole stretches around his toys, how an unnecessary amount of lube leaks from his hole with every thrust, and how his own face looks when he squeezes and finally lets another load fill him up until he thinks he can’t possibly take another one. He always takes another one…

He’s been at it for so long that his thighs shake from holding him up and his elbows burn from rubbing against the rough carpet. He’s absolutely covered in mess, both his own and ropes and dripping globs of milky lube made to lewdly mimic cum. Solo play like this is mortifying, no matter how much you think you want it, but the ghoul had waited far too long into the lonely hours of the night to ask for help and now every ghoul in his pack had long since settled down for sleep. Everyone except him. 

The itch had been so strong, so unavoidable that it had pulled him from the warmth of his bed to hastily strip in front of his mirror and load every single squirting toy he had with the slippery stuff. Then he’d allowed his desires to lead him mindlessly into a spiral of self-debauchery. He’d imagined the first one was Dew as he’d nuzzled and sucked the little purple cock until it squirted on his face and down his chin, and then he’d worked the longer, skinnier one into his ass and begged for Rain to fill him up–which “he” graciously had. After that he’d gotten greedy and stuck one to his mirror, frowned because that specific cock didn’t squirt, and slobbered over that one until it dripped down into his chest hair, all while bouncing on a much girthier one in his ass. Those had been Cirrus and Aeth, respectively. 

The ghoul had been so caught up in his imagination that he failed to consider how late it was with the endless string of noises falling past his lips and the carelessness he had for the sound he was making against old, creaky floorboards as he repositioned over and over and over again to cover his skin and fill his hole with cum. 

—

Mountain cannot sleep. And it’s not that he’s not tired, but more of the fact that he can hear something exciting happening next door. It’s been going on an hour of listening to soft moans and bumbling against the floorboards and the ghoul is more than irritated with the lack of courtesy, so he crawls out of his sheets, not bothering to throw on a shirt or sweats over his heart-covered boxers, and wanders out into the hall. Now, standing in front of Swiss’ bedroom door, he wonders how more members of his pack haven’t knocked on his door to tell him and whoever else is inside to shut the fuck up. But whoever it is that’s inside there with him must be fucking him good because Swiss is mumbling almost to incoherency, whining out between labored inhales of breath, and -

“Yeah… Mountain, yeah -” 

The multi ghoul is a damned fool. 

Mountain reaches for the knob and twists it, cracking it open just enough to peer inside and what he sees makes his dick jump in interest. 

“I can feel you. I know you’re close, Mounty. Breed me. Breed my hole, Mount…” 

“Aw, is my poor boy feeling starved?” Mountain tuts, letting himself into Swiss’ room. It smells like sex and exertion, sweetened by lust and bittered with frustration. He takes a deep breath as he ascends on the scene, picks up on the sudden hint of mortification that leaks from the ghoul, and licks at a fang. Swiss is frozen in time. He makes a weak noise, nuzzled up against a sticky toy at his cheek and filled to the brim with one of the largest knotted toys he has in his collection. That one must be ‘Mounty’.

Mountain is surprised at it all, albeit a little disappointed that the ghoul didn't have the balls to ask for help, but comes closer anyways, settles behind the ghoul on the back of his calves to get a good look at the damage Swiss has done to himself. He’s absolutely covered himself in the mess. His ass, his back, his face, his curls… Mountain already knows but if he pulled him up off his chest he knows it would cover the length of his torso, too. But oh, does he wanna see that pretty cock of his… It’d be all flushed and shiny… Mountain makes a noise of his own, pleased at the idea and the sight spread in front of him. 

“What is it? You wanted us to cover you in our cum? Get you all filthy until nobody would ever doubt who you belonged to? Hmm?” Swiss whines, opens his mouth and mouths at the side of the cock held there. “Who’s that? Whose cock earned the special privilege of feeding into that hot mouth?” 

Mountain waits, places a hand over the base of the toy in his ass and Swiss nearly jumps off the floor in surprise. He doesn’t add any real pressure, just lets his fingers curl over the edge and touch at his cheeks so he knows he’s there. His other hand finds the end of the pump attached to it. 

“Tell me, you cum whore. Who is it?” 

“Sunny,” the ghoul mumbles, licks a lazy stripe up to the head. “It’s Sunny…” 

“I’m sure she’d be more than glad to hear all about that.” Swiss squeaks and Mountain grips at the toy in his ass properly, shoving it in all the way and stuffing him so full that more of the mess gets pushed out and around the tips of his fingers. With his other hand he squeezes the pump in his fist and fills the ghoul one last time. Swiss keens, falls limp at the shoulders against the carpet and moans wantonly as he feels the rush of that fake cum inside of him–Mountain filling him up far past his limit. 

When he pulls the cock out of his hole he removes it slowly, petting at his dirtied back with a soothing hand, and bringing him down from that special place in his head that he likes so much. Swiss makes little noises with every inch that leaves him. Not hurt, almost disappointed that it’s gone. Empty. Pathetic little sounds. 

Mount pulls the toy the rest of the way out with a squelch. He hums, pleased when at what has to be at least half of a bottle of lube leaks out of his puffy hole and down quivering thighs. 

“Oh you poor thing,” Mountain tuts, voice dripping with sarcasm, and pushes up quickly to find a towel. “Gonna make more of a mess than you bargained for.” 

When he returns with towel in hand, the multi ghoul has pushed himself up to sit on his calves. He waits quietly, runs his fingers through the mess on his skin and moans softly at the way it looks. But he doesn’t push it around. The consistency is wrong, the texture is wrong, everything is wrong, and his thoughts are written in his pretty, contorted features. 

Mountain settles back into his place behind him. “Don’t look so upset, it looks exactly how you think it does. Makes me all chubby.” Mountain assures him with gentle fingers to the side of his face and carefully cranes his neck to meet his own lips in a sweet and sloppy kiss. Swiss’ lips are swollen and his mouth tastes artificial like lube–it makes him cringe but he wouldn’t dare pull away. He cleans him off as he kisses him, blindly rubbing at his skin where he remembered the messiest parts of him being, and eventually getting down to his hole. Swiss squeaks when he rubs at it and Mountain only pulls him in deeper, distracting him while he takes the time to make him less sticky. The cloth is only a short-term fix, the ghoul will most definitely need a bath.  “Next time, ask for help. Come find me. I’d be more than happy to paint you with the real thing, demon.”

#p1nk ficlet #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #ghost smut

[p1nkcanoe]

more often than not, copia wakes, hard and sticky, with the image of dewdrop fresh on his mind.

he can feel him on his hands, can taste him on his tongue. woodsmoke and cinnamon and both burning red hot. yet when he turns over onto his back and reaches for him, the mattress is always cold and empty. and he’ll sigh, because once again, he’s dreamt of the one thing he’ll never have the gall to ask for. 

it always starts the same way. dew will saunter into his chambers just as he’s finished changing into his comfortable night clothes and is pouring himself a hearty pour of red wine. he used to surprise him–in the early days of having this dream he’d fumble with the bottle, even drop it a handful of times and ruin the carpet, and dew would glide up behind him on silent feet, press warm palms into his back and over his shoulder blade to tell him he was sorry, that he didn’t mean to, maybe even offer him a kiss to the center of his back–now, he’s memorized the exact moment that the knob turns and clicks closed behind him. has memorized how many steps it takes for him to reach him. 

six. 

six steps for the six times the old floorboards creak beneath him. 

“you seem stressed, papa,” dew says every single time while he presses up close against his back. it’s barely a whisper, spoken so softly into the skin just below his ear, yet dripping with sweet honey and a quiet promise of something more. it makes him shiver, once in disbelief but now in lustful anticipation, and his hands shake slightly as he places the bottle down on the top of the dresser—if he hadn’t managed to shatter it… and he’ll nod, just to keep him going. 

then dew will work his hands down and around to his belly, take his time touching and kneading softly at the bit of fat there before carefully pulling the bottom hem of his tee up and out from where it’s tucked neatly into his sleep pants.

“let me help you ease into bed?” he’ll ask. as innocent as can be. “I can practically smell the tension in your bones…”

but there’s nothing innocent about what copia needs him to do–what he knows he’ll do next. 

he always leans up on his toes and noses the unshaven stubble of his cheek, his chin hooked right over his shoulder, while one of his overly-warm hands explores the newly exposed skin of his belly and the dense hair that covers it. the other sits just above his waistband, waiting. dew takes a deep breath in of the lingering cologne still stuck to his skin. spicy and subtle. he’s always liked it. sometimes copia will reapply it before bed, just after he’s brushed his teeth, in hopes that dew will come searching it out before he can dream of him. he never does, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stop yearning… but in his dream, where he knows the ghoul will appreciate it, he exhales nice and slow and lets his breath tickle the hair on the back of his neck, letting out a pretty little moan in return that always makes copia’s knees weak and push him to give into his desires.

“please, dewdrop,” he says, breathlessly and thoroughly out of any remaining patience for this torturous build up they always seem to have to go through. dew hums, a question. he always makes him specify. 

the glass of wine resting in front of him goes forgotten. wasted yet again, and copia covers the hand on his waistband with his own, dipping their fingers behind the elastic. 

“please,” he whispers, “help your papa.”

he’s said those words so many times that they’re etched in between the grooves on the top of his mouth. they’re permanently tattooed onto his tongue and written behind his teeth. when he wakes he’ll lick at them, try and taste them, try and remember what they tasted like when dewdrop buries his hand down into his underwear and grabs at him, hot and firm, and begins to stroke him. but always, they’re tasteless. 

the next part always goes by much too fast. he wishes he could stay there forever, slow the minutes down and memorize them, but they rush past in a blur of hands and a hot mouth. but he feels it all at once. he feels the hands that grab and stroke at him, the palms that knead at his skin, and he hears the noises that fall past his own lips like a broken record set on repeat. he feels the sharp teeth that nip at his skin, draw little pinpricks of blood that get licked up by an even hotter tongue, and feels the gorgeous lips that suck pretty marks into his neck, and his chest, and his thighs. 

marks that hurt so good and look so real, but never last past sunrise. 

he lets him take him apart, never having to do much in return, and it’s him that ultimately makes him leak into his sleep pants. him that makes him suffer, drowning in pleasure and insanity. and him that makes him wake every single morning on the verge of an orgasm. 

everything is him. 

everything is dewdrop. 

time moves both too fast and in slow motion. it goes by so fast yet feels like he could stay there forever… that is until the sun rises again and casts golden light through his window to remind him that it isn’t real. that he must rise and continue his mundane duties and stay in his place. 

dew is his ghoul. 

and he is his papa. 

the mattress is too cold. too big for him to sleep alone, yet he yearns for no one else but his ghoul to ease the burning in his belly. 

maybe one day he’ll have him. maybe one day it won't be a dream… but for now, he’ll just wait until darkness sets again in the sky so he can fall right back into it again.

#copia x dewdrop #copia #dewdrop ghoul #p1nk ficlet #nsft

[p1nkcanoe]

Mountain cums an obscene amount and i keep thinkin abt Dewdrop gettin wrecked from it.

Sos help.

aight i had fun with this one and i hope you do too

filth below the cut

__

Dew really has no idea how they got to this point. Only an hour ago they’d been handed a list by Imperator, told to pick up very specific items and given the exact locations of where they would find them. At the bottom of the list in bold, red pen, a reminder written over three times: UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES ARE YOU TO STRAY FROM THE LIST. 

… This was definitely not on the list. 

Something had set Mountain off. The two of them had been wandering through a department store searching for the third item on their list when the massive ghoul suddenly got all sluggish and red-faced, started breathing real heavy until he grabbed Dew by the scruff of his neck and pushed him up against a wall. Dew barely had enough space to get his hands out from where he’d braced himself against the wall before Mount started rutting his hips up into his stomach, hard as a rock through his pants and letting out breathy little noises with each thrust. His body is hot against his, his scent earthy and rich in his nose from where he’s pressed against the fabric of his shirt, and he wonders how in the world this happened without him noticing until it was too late. It’s so unlike him to get all worked up in public of all places, and he can’t wrap his head around how desperate he is. Mountain grunts through his teeth and pushes his hips into Dew’s belly until his shirt rides up and the skin of his tummy gets exposed. When Dew raises his hands to pull it back down Mount grabs him by the wrist and pins it to the wall beside his head, his eyes fixed on the flat of tummy and the smooth skin there. Dew watches the moment that his pupils dilate and in a flash he’s reaching towards the button on his pants. 

“Mount- I’m not sure that this is a good place for this-” Dew tries and scrambles to get a hold on Mountain’s hand before he frees himself. It’s a futile attempt. “Maybe we could find a dressing room or a restroom before you-” The earth ghoul isn’t listening. He pops open the button, practically rips open the zipper, and pulls his cock from its confinement, hitting the flushed head against Dew’s bellybutton before shuffling his feet impossibly closer and trapping the smaller ghoul so close to the wall that his heels hit the trim. “Okay, well. I guess we’re doing this here.” Dew sighs, peers around the ghoul to make sure nobody is coming, and pulls his shirt up to rest at his nipples because he really doesn’t want to get his shirt dirty... Mountain whines, high and breathy and pathetic, and Dew rolls his eyes, snakes his head out from under Mountain’s to push at his back in time with his thrusts. “C’mon, big guy. We gotta get you off because you really could not have chosen a worse place to get all hot on me.” 

Mountain doesn’t respond. He crowds Dew against the wall until he’s pushed up against his chest and pressed flush against him from head to toe and ruts deep and fast against his belly without any rhythm or sense, just pure desperation and desire to blow his load onto pretty skin. And Dew has to admit: it’s kinda hot. The risk of someone walking up on them, even catching them from a distance has him chubbing up in his shorts, and he tries to angle his hips forward just a few inches to get some friction against a thigh or something, but Mountain has him pinned good and he’s also fine with just riding this all out where he’s at. 

It doesn’t take Mountain long to get close. He starts getting sloppy, starts breathing harder and letting out grunts that cause Dew to have to cover his mouth with his hand so they don’t get caught. And eventually Mountain reaches his climax and starts spurting over the smooth skin of his belly… and his chest… and a little on his shirt… and it just keeps coming, painting his skin with streaks of pearlescent white until it’s dripping and becoming a different issue entirely. “Mount, what the fuck, dude?” He drops his hands to his abdomen in an attempt to catch the excess before it drips onto the carpet below them. It’s not long before his hands get messy, too. There’s so much cum and it’s making Dew dizzy. It’s still coming. 

Dew can’t help the moan that falls from his lips as Mountain rides out the end of his release against his belly, dragging the head of his cock through the immense mess he made until the friction practically becomes nonexistent and he drops his forehead against the wall with a dull thud. His legs are shaking and he’s panting just above his head and Dew thinks he might pass out on him, but then the earth ghoul pushes himself up and takes a step back to eye his masterpiece and lets out a chuckle like he can’t believe his own eyes. 

“Yeah, asshole. Feel better now?” Dew asks, astonished and still cradling spurts of cum in his hands. “What the hell was that?”

Mountain shrugs and tucks himself back into his pants, zips up the zipper. “I don't know, was pent up, I guess.”  “You guess?”

#p1nk ficlet #p1nk cb #mountain x dew

[p1nkcanoe]

I wish you would write a fic where Swiss acts like even more of a freak with his guitar

okay i know you said his guitar, but he's had his eyes on rain's bass for a while...

i only have eyes for you

[ swiss x rain's bass ]

summary: swiss has had his eye on rain's bass for a while. tonight he finally gets the chance to show her how a bass like her should really be treated. warnings: grinding, masturbation, objectophilia (object attraction) word count: 1366

now on ao3 as it's own ficlet collection... make of that what you will.

(once again, please don't yell at me for the guitar stuff, i know nothing about playing or handling instruments, i just write strange porn…) 

It had been a long time coming. So many tour dates, so many rehearsals and practices, so many late nights listening to her sing in his room, cradled by slimmer, familiar hands… So many years. He’s yeared for her for years, and now, she’s finally his. Smooth. Pearly white with that black pickguard as dark and as clear as the night sky, shining under the light of the moon and smothered in the love and devotion that she really deserves. 

Rain’s bass. 

In Swiss’ hands. 

Just for one night. 

She’s heavier than he’d thought she’d be. Strong and sturdy in all of the right places–solid. Almost unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. He tries not to think about the one he loves most, locked away in her case someplace else, as he pulls this other woman into his lap–her back pressed nice and flush to his chest–this isn’t about her. Tonight is reserved for one special girl… 

Swiss looks out over the abbey grounds from their secret spot on one of the many balconies, high up above the surface of the earth and far from where his packmates and his papa sleep peacefully, blissfully unaware of their taboo rendezvous, watching as the fireflies make themselves known with flashing lights of brilliant green and yellow before they disappear back into the darkness of the night. Bathed by the pale light of the moon and the burning stars, he smooths his large hands over her body, feeling her curves and memorizing her dips and flares while his lips ghost gently over her head, taking in her sweet, woody scent and masking the one that deeply taints her surface. Cloves, rich, red wine, and tobacco. It won’t last past morning once he returns her to where she stays stored away, but for now she belongs to someone else. 

He noses at her shiny tuning keys and hums, turning her slightly in his hands to reach where her strings stretch tight around her dark string posts. When his tongue darts out and tastes, he can’t help the noise that escapes him. It’s low, drawn out from the throat, and dripping with his overflowing lust. He leaves a little behind on her hardware and leaves her shining with his saliva. He plans to see the reflection of the stars etched onto her glassy surface. 

“Would you like that?” he asks, his voice low, barely a whisper. There’s a nice roughness in his tone. He knows she likes that. They usually do. “If I covered you in my saliva until you shined with the light of the stars and the moon?” 

One of his hands migrates inward toward where she’s been patiently waiting, and he dips the tip of his middle finger between her strings, plucking the smallest bit to make her hum, nice and low. Beautiful. 

“I knew you would. You’re not used to being treated like this, are you?” 

He dips in again. Plucks at another. She hums, this time a little louder. A little richer. 

“Does Rain ever treat you like this?” 

Does Rain hear you purr like this when he tickles you? When he plays with your strings on stage? Does he appreciate you quite like I do?

The hand not tickling her strings drops to her round bottom and he wraps his fingers around her lower edge, using the heel of his hand to press her right into where he needs her most. Right into where he’s generously tenting the front of his pants. The pressure makes him groan and a pleasure-filled sensation runs through his veins–slow and lazy like honey–beginning in his balls and ending at the tips of his toes, the top of his head… He lays a lingering kiss to her headstock. 

“Spoil you?” 

His finger plucks on her A string and she whispers back to him, too soft for him to hear. 

“Pleasure you?” 

He plucks again, more insistent this time, and she repeats herself, this time much louder–not to be missed or mistaken in his ears. The vibrations from her voice go straight to his dick and the ghoul shudders, bowing his head against the back of her smooth neck to keep from grinding filthy against her body. 

Somewhere in the distance a frog croaks and a heron answers. They’re watching, gossiping back and forth in their language about what they’re witnessing, but Swiss doesn’t care. No, not at all. 

Let them watch, he thinks. 

Let them tell every land-dwelling and aquatic organism about what is happening on this sacred night. Let them spread what real love looks like, what it means to be a man pleasuring a woman.. Showing her her worth, worshiping her beauty, her body, her voice… 

Let them speak. Let them watch. 

He presses her closer, ruts his hips against her backside when she goes quiet and still and kisses up her golden neck with spit-slick lips. His fingers have stopped plucking at her strings and instead have slipped between them, curling four careful fingertips around her G string. She squeezes him right back and forces him right up against her body. Right up against her cool, smooth belly. 

“Ohhh,” he moans, his lips curling up into a devilish smile. “You’re tight, darling.” 

He pulls suddenly and lets go right as a moth flutters away into the night, but he’s quick to grab her again at the same string and soak up her vibrations with his fingers. She rings and vibrates until she calms again, goes quiet, and Swiss can’t help the way that he throbs. 

“He’s got you tuned perfectly, I bet. If we had more time together I’d loosen you up. Really let you feel it–feel me. But not tonight,” he sighs, more than disappointed, and drops his chin to lick up the uneven side of her neck and feel as her frets drag one by one over his tongue. Rough. Metallic. If he’s not careful she’ll cut him. He’d willingly let her if she’d let him leave his mark on her surface. Let it soak into the wood like a tattoo. But even like this, with her pressed so perfectly against him, he knows who she must ultimately go back to… Whose room she sleeps in at night… 

“Can’t take you back letting the other guy know what happened tonight, can I? We’ll have to leave you just as you are. Tight. Too tight…” 

He pulls at her string again, this time harder than any of the previous times, and she sings so loud, so gorgeous for him, and he sings right back with a slack jaw and sticky pre leaking into the fabric of his boxers. 

When he leans back and pulls her with him, laying her flat against his chest, he pretends that it was her idea. 

The stone he lays on is frigid through the fabric of his shirt. 

“You want him to know?” He chuckles and lets his eyes flutter closed as the vibrations course through her and settle deep into his balls. The hand on her bottom trails up her side, through her dips and back up where her body flares out again, and he grabs her right over her neck, squeezing in all of the right places, plucking her strings with the tips of his fingers in quick succession with no particular pattern but to please her. What he says next comes out in a hiss. The hand on her neck tightens. He swears he can hear her gasp. 

“You want to get me in trouble.” 

She doesn’t object. He plucks at her again and moans when she responds so perfectly to his fingers. 

“You’re filthy, but that’s our secret, isn’t it, sweetheart?” 

He looks up into the void just as a star carves a path across the universe and something warm blooms in his belly and twists, red hot. The desire under his skin will devour him. The star curves over the edge of the globe and dissipates behind the clouds. Even the cosmos, he thinks, believe this is the way that it should be. 

His filthy little secret… A guitar that doesn’t even belong to him… 

He’ll make sure she’s shining and right back in her case by morning. 

#p1nk ficlet #swiss and his guitar #swiss ghoul #nsft #inspired by the song by the flamingos #tw objectophilia

[p1nkcanoe]

aurora’s showing swiss the pretty new dress she bought for herself, twirling around in circles and letting the bottom fan out, pretending she’s marilyn monroe from the pictures she’s seen in old hollywood magazines. she looks so pretty in it. smooth, shiny black satin and a tiny little bow right above the swell of her breasts. if you look hard enough there’s a very faint cheetah pattern hidden in the black. almost invisible. the bottom hem stops high on her thighs, almost too short to wear out, but that’s never been a problem before so why would it be one now?

swiss is doing a good job of keeping his hands to himself as he sits back comfortably against the headboard of his bed. neither of them expected he would be able to control himself, but he simply doesn’t want to ruin the serene moment they’re sharing and stop her from giving him a little show. besides, she really does look beautiful in it. her pink hair falls down along her back in loose curls and she still has a bit of mascara left on her eyes from the night before. she looks herself over, ignoring how golden eyes devour her backside as he watches from afar, and swiss pretends that she came in to his room to show him, to let him look over her curves and the way the shiny fabric falls like water over different parts of her body as she twists and turns, posing for the large standing mirror that leans up against the wall. 

“it’s nice,” he says, a genuine smile on his lips, and he gives her body another once over with his eyes before he swings his long legs over the side of the bed and takes the few short steps to loom behind her. from this angle his head is out of the reach of the mirror’s reflection and aurora has to twist her head up to get a good look at him to make sure his little compliment is genuine and not just an excuse to touch it for the first time.

it is, but she pretends for her own sake that it’s not.

“thank you,” she replies and looks back to her own reflection, running her tiny hands down over her belly to watch how her silhouette looks in it. the little bit of fat there always makes swiss a little crazy. when he hums, more than pleased with the sight, she tilts her chin up and winks, “i think so too.”

the multi ghoul huffs in feigned disbelief and watches with her as her manicured hands trace down her sides, pulling the fabric taut around her hips. she turns around, twisting her head to watch how it looks when she pulls it tight around her ass and swiss tsks, brows raised towards his hairline. 

“that’s nice too.”

“imagine how fat rain’s bubble butt would look in this dress. cirrus’ hips? oh satan below, lus in general? i’d cream.” 

she continues to oggle her own ass, even giving it a little shake and a bounce on the balls of her feet to watch how it moves and swiss gets a little closer, bending at the waist just a bit to be able to crack a hand right across her left cheek and make her yelp in surprise. he eases the sting the best way he knows how: grabbing a chunk of it and kneading. 

“watch the claws,” she says, the pain forgotten in regards to retaining the pristine condition of the dress. one of her hands grabs at his wrist but he doesn't let go. 

“it’s brand new, swiss.” 

he rolls his eyes and gives her ass another good shake before letting his hands trail upwards to her waist. 

“yeah, yeah, i get it, princess. but if i mess it up i'll just buy you a new one…” 

she’s about to argue something back about the pretty penny she’d spent on it and another thing about how long it took to ship to the abbey when swiss flexes his fingers around the smallest part of her middle and tosses her up over her shoulder like she weighs nothing at all. she flops over him like a sack of potatoes and sighs in defeat, letting her arms hang down along his back, because she’s been in this position enough times to know that it's ultimately up to him for whenever she gets to touch the ground again. 

“don’t ruin the dress,” she mumbles into the fabric of his shirt, and lifts her head up slightly when she notices how the multi ghoul’s gone a little silent. and oddly still. “swiss?”

and he’d gone a little quiet for a good reason. 

upon picking the ghoulette up, the already short hem of her dress had ridden up even more, exposing her ass and everything else underneath like it was christmas morning. and what does he see? a very surprising lack of panties underneath that pretty, black fabric. 

“swiss?” she asks again, dragging out his name and pinching his ass. 

there’s another moment of nothingness. 

“i’m ruining the dress.”

“noooo!”

#swiss x aurora #swiss ghoul #aurora ghoulette #p1nk ficlet

[p1nkcanoe]

spin the bottle

~1.5k words of ghoulettes playing their dirty version of spin the bottle

“Okay, Lus! It’s your turn to spin the bottle!” 

The fluffy-haired ghoulette pushes herself up from where she’d been reclining back on her elbows on the edge of the rug, a more-than-eager smile on her pretty face and her pink tongue poking out between her teeth. 

She reaches for the empty wine bottle in the center of their circle, only a few drops of red remain inside, and her manicured hands wrap around the center of it, giving it a good twist before she spins it the opposite direction against the carpet. Every ghoulette watches in anticipation to see who it’ll land on. 

But their game of spin the bottle isn’t like the ones they’ve watched in movies. No, their game is much more fun–much more exciting. Instead of simply kissing the ghoulette that the neck of the bottle points towards, each of the gorgeous women is assigned an invisible label that goes along with what the spinner must entertain themselves with. 

If the bottle lands on Cirrus, the spinner gets to plant a hickey wherever they desire onto whoever they want. If it lands on Aurora then they’ll get to wear the pair of vibrating panties that sit aside (for now) until the next person spins and lands on Aurora. Cumulus is assigned to oral, of course–her favorite–and can be taken for oneself if the spinner decides they don’t particularly feel like giving that round. Mist is nipple clamps, which is great for how they’re already pinched perfectly right onto her little breasts. And last but not least, Sunshine is assigned to -

“Toys!” 

Each ghoulette cheers and squeals in unison as Cumulus spins her head over to where they’ve adorned their vanity with sex toys of every shape, color, and size. She gets to choose whichever one she feels is right. Whichever one she wants to play with. As she shuffles forward on her knees the girls hoot and holler, Cirrus even giving her a smack on her ass when she passes by, and she eyes the vast selection of toys. There’s an orange one that catches her eye at first. It’s sleek, smooth with a thicker head, and marbled with shimmery yellows. But there’s also a purple dick that looks oddly familiar to a certain earth ghoul they know, a little messy and inconsistent at the base, and she’s pretty sure she’s heard Sunny talk about getting a certain someone to do the whole ‘clone-a-willy’ thing before… So she grabs the purple one without another beat of hesitation and it unsuctions from the table with a nice clean ‘pop’! 

All of the other toys sway back and forth like a wheat field in the wind. 

The ghoulettes only get louder. 

“Satanas, Lus,” Aurora huffs, laughing in feigned disbelief when she rejoins back into the circle to show off her pick. “I always knew you were a size queen, but shit!” 

She smiles, winks, and licks at a fang, and Sunshine winks right back. 

“That’s a good choice.” 

Cumulus settles back down into her spot around the circle and leans back, spreading her legs to open herself up to the rest of her ghoulette pack. She’s already glistening and dripping with slick. Her thighs shine. She’s always been a little messy. 

With a tilt of the dildo in her hand towards the fiery-haired ghoulette on the opposite side of the circle, she raises a brow and quirks a cherry-red lip, “then how about you come show me how to use it, pretty lady?” 

“Gladly,” she says and crawls forward on her hands and knees to rest right in front of that shiny cunt. The toy is taken from Cumulus’ hand and the rest of the women lean in to get a good look as she rubs the thick head of the thing through her folds, back and forth until it’s glistening. Then the shaft. Then finally she gives it a good taste with her tongue just to make sure it’s wet enough when she starts to push the thing into her hole. The sigh that Cumulus lets out as it stretches her open is divine. 

“Okay, Rory, you’re up to spin!”

The smallest ghoulette sits up from where she’s rested back on her calves and wraps her hand around the bottle, giving it a nice spin until it slows and chooses Cirrus: give a hickey to anyone of your choice. And who does she choose to bruise their skin? It isn’t even a question. Cirrus has had her top stripped off since the first round when Mist got the first hickey to give in the night. Since then every single one has been sucked somewhere into Cirrus’ skin, and she isn’t too thrilled about it. Her skin is mottled with them from her neck down to the waistband of her panties and they have a date down at the lake tomorrow with the entire pack… She’s jeopardizing her strappy two-piece for this.

Aurora is still stuck to the spot on the top of her breast when Cirrus leans forward to spin. Just as everyone before her has done, she gives it a twist before letting it fly the other direction, and her eyes light up when it lands on Mist. 

“Hand them over, Misty,” she says, her right hand already outstretched and doing a grabby motion while the water ghoulette works quickly to get the clamps off of her nipples. Once they’re off and in her hands, Aurora is more than happy to help her out of her bra to clamp them onto her breasts, right over that pretty jewelry through her nipples that glints and shimmers under the light of their candles that flicker around the room. If a little whimper escapes her lips when the left one pinches a little too tight, nobody says anything about it. 

Sunshine watches the turns go around while also entertaining herself with Cumulus’ pussy and the dildo that has become slick and squelches with every slide and thrust she gives her. She almost mourns it when she has to sit up to spin, leaving the other ghoulette to take care of herself. Luckily she’s smart enough to sit up and reposition herself to ride the thing while Sunshine is away. 

Sunny spins the bottle and it halts in front of Aurora. For the first time that night everyone cheers and whistles when the vibrating panties are pulled from where they’ve sat the entire game, unused, and replaced with the delicate lace ones that the multi ghoulette adorned. The remote appears in Cirrus’ hand and she smirks, “ready?” 

Sunshine nods and Cirrus presses the button. The panties hum to life and Sunshine falls back from her elbows onto her back, her thighs pressing together tight and her hands pressing into her core from the intensity right off the bat. 

“Cir-” Mist frowns, reaching over to lay a finger to the center of the vibrator on her clit. “That’s too much, turn it down just a tad, won’t you?” 

“She can handle it. I’ve seen her take worse.” 

Finally it’s Mist’s turn again and takes her hand off the multi-ghoulette’s clit to spin the wine bottle. It lands on her after an excruciatingly slow final turn and she nearly sobs when the clamps get placed back onto her little nipples, so red and sore from the seemingly never-ending pain. 

The group of women start another round of their game and Cumulus spins toys again, quickly choosing the orange toy from earlier and working it carefully into her ass alongside the purple dick in her pussy for a little double penetration. 

When Aurora spins and it points towards Cumulus she takes it as a challenge to try and torture the ghoulette wearing the vibrating panties with her tongue. Upon pulling the vibrator away from her clit she’s more than pleasantly surprised to find the ghoulette drooling with slick and the evidence of an upcoming orgasm, and is more than happy to help her get there and beyond, all while Sunshine buries her claws into that pretty pink hair and pulls just the way she likes it. 

Cirrus takes her next turn and the bottle lands on Sunshine. 

Toys again…

And suddenly the game takes a turn when Cirrus grabs a silicone dick from the table and works it into Aurora’s pussy, spread and open, from how she’s bent over on her knees to work Sunny over. When it pushes in it's a surprise, but she welcomes it nicely when Cirrus pets a hand over her lower back and tells her to relax, babydoll… 

Distracted, Mist takes her turn in place of Sunshine and spins the bottle. 

It lands on herself again and she would have thrown a bit of a fit if it weren’t for Cumulus reaching over and pulling on the chain that connected her nipples to each other, brow furrowed all gorgeous with a lip pulled between her teeth. She’s more than happy to help her with her toys. 

As long as she’ll share.

#nameless ghoulettes #mist ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #nsft #p1nk ficlet

[p1nkcanoe]

Mountain and Dew and Aurora. Dew fucks Aurora while mountain is fucking dew. Dews getting Aurora warmed up to take Mountains large fucking cock.

Word travels around fast when you live in such close quarters, and secrets aren’t really a thing when everyone knows everything about you. This rule also goes for new summons. So when Dew had overheard Aurora giggle and whisper to Cumulus that she wanted to “take Mountain’s monster cock” he forgot all about the juice he was about to pour and beelined straight to Mountain’s room. Cumulus had chuckled, knowing the ghoulette was already toast. 

Aurora had no idea the situation she’d gotten herself into when Mountain snuck up behind her later that night and splayed his massive hand across her back, whispering low and quiet into her ear that he wanted to show her something when she had the chance. And Dew hadn’t quite gotten the memo either when he’d told him just minutes prior that he was going to need his help with something. He’d just nodded and followed the ghoul blindly into his bedroom. Fifteen minutes later and Dew had been pinned on his back with the ghoulette speared on his cock and the earth ghoul deep in his ass. 

“Come on, Aurora. If you can’t loosen up for Dew then how do you expect to open up for me?” Mountain goads, watching with lustful eyes as the ghoulette squirms and struggles to take Dewdrop’s little dick. On the bottom, Dew is losing his mind but Mountain doesn’t seem to care in the slightest; only using him for a warm hole while the ghoulette gets warmed up and stretched out. He’s doing his best to do just that but Aurora isn’t putting in much work. She’s panting and huffing and squirming like his cock is too much, too good, and Dew holds onto her hips in a vice grip to try and pull her down onto the pathetic thrusts he’s angling into her. He can’t get his hips far off the mattress with Mountain deep inside of him but he puts everything he’s got into trying. The stimulation he’s getting isn’t enough to get him off, especially with how Aurora struggles to drop her shaky knees. But she’s so tight and her cunt is so hot and slick that if she finally did decide to drop that he may prematurely blow his load. 

“Try-trying-” she pants and gasps when Dew manages to give her a good thrust. Her palms are hot and heavy against Dew’s chest and he groans between gritted teeth when she clenches hard around him and hooks a nail through a silver ring. “I’m trying-”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to take me?” Mountain glides his palms over her skin until he rests them on the small of her back, his fingers curling around her waist. He replaces Dew’s iron grip with his own. It makes her breath catch in her throat. “What were your words again, hmm? Mountain’s monster cock?” 

Her cheeks bloom with a blush that he can’t see and Dew can’t pry his eyes from her gorgeous face. Fingertips dimple the flesh on either side of her navel. 

“Well if you want to take it you’re gonna have to quit whining like Dew’s too much and loosen up.” 

Aurora opens her mouth to speak and Mountain forces her down by her waist to take all of Dew until their hips meet, simultaneously rocking into Dew with a deep and powerful thrust, and all three of them moan out in tandem. 

“See, pretty girl? That’s not so hard, is it?”

#p1nk ficlet #mountain x dew x aurora #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #aurora ghoulette #ghost smut #ficlet

[p1nkcanoe]

LET MOUNT FUCK RORY!!!!!

okay FINE

a little continuation of this post as a treat

“Let me in,” Mountain pleads. His teeth scrape against the side of Aurora’s neck, over the muscle that flexes taut and pretty when she tilts her head back against the mattress and sighs with the feeling of him deep, deep inside of her. He breathes hot and sticky against her skin, licking up the salty taste of her sweat that gathers on his tongue and moaning low and growl-like when he drinks up her rich scent, straight from the source. She feels so small when he fucks her like this. When he covers her body completely with his own and makes her feel like a doll. It makes her head spin and her brain go a little fuzzy. Aurora pants with every nip and bite at her skin with sharp, uneven fangs. She’s covered in red from her thighs to her neck, blushed in red hot heat, flush and red from his hands grabbing and clawing at her skin like he wants to crawl inside and stay there. Lines from blunt claws mark her skin like stripes. He’s more than a little out of his mind. 

“Open up for me,” he whines, his brow furrowing together tight and pained where it almost meets in the middle. “Just a little more. You’ve gotta…” 

Aurora opens her mouth to tell him she’s trying–she wants him to go deeper, to hit those spots inside that nobody’s been able to reach before–but the only noise that slides off her tongue is choked, more of a guttural shout when he punches his hips forward and steals the air from her lungs until they’re squeezed, burning, and empty. He’s so deep she can feel him in her throat. Somehow, it’s still not enough. 

If she were to look down she’d see him carving out a space for himself in her tummy. It bulges with every slide inside, makes a pretty little bump just under her belly button, but she can’t possibly look. Not with his mouth attached to the underside of her jaw, licking and sucking and nipping at her skin, but also the sight of his dick, flushed nearly purple and covered in her juices would probably make her core coil impossibly tight and burn hot until she was forced to cum on his cock. 

“You have to let me in,” he says again and pants open mouthed against the corner of her lips. His tongue darts out to lick at her teeth. Her arms wrap around his back, one of her hands threading up into the hair at the back of his head and pulling tight when he grinds forward, her much smaller body sliding up the bed with every push, relying on the weight of his own body to keep her rooted to one place. “I can’t get it in if you don’t open up for me. It’s ready, you just have to let me in–let me in.” 

She doesn’t want to be the one to break it to him that she’s as open as she can possibly be. The tip of his dick kisses her most sensitive parts and makes her nerves scream and her eyes line with tears. She wants him just as badly as he wants her, but it won’t be possible. She’s just too small for how large he is–it’ll never fit far enough in for him to pop his knot inside of her. No matter how many times he comes to her in the middle of the night or with the rise of the golden sun, asking, begging, pleading to let him knot her until he’s on the verge of tears, it will never fit. She can’t even feel the bulge of it when he buries himself as deep as he possibly can, and will never be able to hear the smack of his balls against her ass like he can with Cumulus or Cirrus or anyone else. It will never fit the way he needs it to, and he knows it. No matter how many times he tries–wills it to go further, deeper–it won’t. He’ll just keep trying until he’s overstimulated by his own lust, drowning in a flood of pheromones, and pushed to sobs, eventually thrown over the edge into the most unsatisfying orgasm. Just like he’s done so many times before… Again, and again, and again.

#i think ive written 17k words of mountrora within the past two weeks #lets fucking go #mountain x aurora #p1nk ficlet #mountain ghoul #aurora ghoulette

[p1nkcanoe]

thoughts you say? Sometimes Swiss likes to sit on Copia’s lap and shave his face for him as delicately as possible

-- i know what you wanted, and i'm not sorry when i say i bring you this instead

copia is getting older. it's no secret. he gets tired easier, has to take more frequent breaks during practice, has to pretend like he's still a young cardinal on stage, all while the lines in his features get more pronounced, more worn with time and his muscles begin to ache. swiss sees it, everybody sees it, but swiss isn't going to sit around and act like it doesn't bother him.

it's not uncommon for the multi-ghoul to sneak into the papal wing just as the sun has begun to descend over the lake, enter his papa's bedroom, and find him in the bathroom scrubbing at the blur of black and white and gray paint on his weathered features. copia used to wave him away. he used to shrug off swiss' kind hands, refusing to accept the little bit of help in fear of being seen as the old man he feels like on the outside. now, when swiss slips into the bathroom and closes the door softly behind him, copia moves wordlessly to the upholstered chair in the corner of the massive room and sits, waits for the ghoul to take over.

he'll begin by wiping his skin clear of smudged paint with a warm rag, then he'll move on to combing through that fragile, graying hair until it's smooth and pushed back off of his face, secured in place with a bit of oil. finally, he'll fill a small bowl with water and retrieve the old-fashioned shaving kit from the medicine cabinet and return to his papa. if anyone were to see them in this moment they would likely frown as swiss carefully clambers over his papa's lap and sits squarely on his thighs. he's welcomed with warm hands that touch and squeeze at warmer skin. there was a point in time when swiss used to stand for this part, but it only took a few visits to tighten and pull at the muscles of his back as he hunched over, and copia was more than willing to pull him in by his hips until he got the message. now, it's become their normal. copia appreciates the lap-full of ghoul, and swiss appreciates the closeness. 

the bowl swiss brought with him sits perched on the edge of the porcelain tub, small waves of water lap at the sides before settling down to form a calm surface to rinse the brush off in. copia rests his hands atop strong thighs. he squeezes lightly at hard muscle before running the palms of his hands up and down and up dark gray skin, the tips of his fingers dipping barely under the hem of his cotton shorts as swiss lathers up the brush with shaving cream and begins to apply it to his jaw and neck in neat, circular motions.

they go through the steps, not a word spoken between them, and swiss begins to shave his papa's face with careful practice and an uncharacteristic gentleness only reserved for these quiet moments. while swiss performs careful work, copia stares sideways out of the tiny window. it's too dark to see anything through the stained glass, but they leave it at that-pretend the obvious doesn't exist. swiss understands even if copia doesn't. at least not fully. the moisture that licks at his waterline is worth novels more than the words that could slip from his tongue. 

it's an intimate and special moment they share. one of trust and love and devotion while the massive ghoul cursed with eternal life cares for his very mortal papa. and when swiss is done, and his papa is clean of that salt and pepper stubble, he gets up to retrieve the final steps of moisturizer and expensive aftershave, and takes ample time than needed to moisturize sensitive skin. he applies the aftershave with clean hands and light, tender touches. and finally, when copia is all clean and freshly shaven, swiss will tilt his face up by the back of his neck and lean down to place a lingering kiss to the side of his temple. there's always tears when he leaves, and never words. there don't have to be words. here, the actions of gentle hands are louder than anything that could possibly be said. and although his papa in these moments feels very, very human, he also feels very, very loved. 

#sorry for this #copiasjuicebox #p1nk cb #p1nk dab #swiss ghoul #copia #p1nk ficlet