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dykeknightrises · 7 months

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A/N: I'M BACK! This is the third and final piece of the falling series, finally making it's appereace! While I'm not super happy about it (which is probably because I feel a bit weird writing dialogue and this one has much more than the last two), I feel like this is the closing I wanted for it! I truly hope you guys enjoy it!

PART 1: FALLING

PART 2: PROMISES

Having Alexia look at you like that took your breath away. Her hazel eyes looking at you like you were the only thing in the world gave you goosebumps. It wasn’t until a frown made it’s way to her forehead that you realized she was talking to you.

“I said: ‘I was hoping we could have our usual Thursday? I have a lot that I need to say to you.’” She said, before frowning ever deeper before adding, “Where are you going? It’s Thursday.”

“D-Date. I’m going on a date right now.” You replied, cursing the stuttering at the hasher tone she used on the last sentence.

“I didn’t know you were going on a date today.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was supposed to inform the team captain of such personal affairs.” You snarked back.

“That’s not what I meant and know it.”

“I don’t know, Alexia. For the past few months, we’ve only spoken as teammates. I don’t think it was wrong of me assume that this is how we were now, nothing more than teammates.”

“This is not fair, Y/N. You said we were okay.” Alexia gritted, pushing past you into your apartment.

“I thought we were too! I wasn’t the one who kept cancelling every week.” You scoffed.

“But you can’t just go in date like that!” she bit back.

“Excuse me? You know what, forget about it. Just leave, captain.”

“I can’t! I can’t let you go on that date before I tell you how I feel!” The Catalonian yelled.

“The last thing I need is to hear how much you don’t care about me!” You yell back, pushing past her and leaving her alone in your apartment.

***

The blonde’s words rang in your ears as you drove late to the date. The restaurant wasn’t very far, but you chose to drive to ground yourself. The argument with the Spaniard and the quick conversation that followed made her eyes turn glassy as she blinked to try to see the traffic better.

Trying to find the teammate that Leah set you up with was a downward spiral. Not being able to locate whoever it was, Y/N could feel the stress and the frustration leak through her cracks. A hand gripping your shoulder brought you back to the moment, making you turn and face soft brown eyes.

You could feel the warmness emanating from your former teammate as she enveloped you in a tight hug. Dressed in a high waisted pants, a very nice blouse and ready to kill, Lia Walti stood smiling at you.

“Leah outdid herself this time.” The Swiss laughed with you.

“Now a lot of things are making sense.” You agreed.

Following your friend to the table the English captain reserved for you two, it was easy to lose yourself in the conversation, as you caught up. It wasn’t easy, however, to do it completely, with a very specific person occupying such a bug part of your thoughts.

“Do you want to talk about her or are you pretending she doesn’t exist?”

“The second option.” You pout back.

“Well, I know why Leah set this whole thing up but, in all fairness, I’m not ready to go all in again. With how things ended between me and her, it still stings, you know? I mean, the whole summer fling was nice, but ‘real world’ wise I’m not there yet.”

“Oh, thank God. I’d hate to ghost you after this.” You joke at her, making her roll her eyes.

“Asshole!” She laughed, throwing a balled-up napkin in your direction.

With the underlining expectation of the night becoming nothing than a hang out between friends, you two relaxed considerably and dug deeper into the mess she had been in and the one you were now.

Dropping her off in her hotel after you both agreed on telling Leah the date was great so she wouldn’t set up either of you again, at least for a while, you drove back home. Talking to Lia about Alexia was very good, as she was removed enough from the situation to have convinced that maybe the last thing you yelled to the Catalonian was unfair.

With that happy though in mind, you got ready to bed, preparing yourself for an unruly night filled with Alexia, as usual.

***

Having a flat tire on your way to the Camp Nou was most certainly not a part of your plan and only served to make a bad day even worse. First you missed you alarm after only being able to sleep as the sun started peeking from the horizon. Then, you ran out of literally everything that was your usual breakfast food for Game Day. And now, a flat tire after already being late. Yay.

Leaving the car after parking and now even glancing checking where you were, an Uber arrived only a few minutes after and dropped you off on the wrong side of the stadium. Another check for bad day.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! The alarm, then the food, then the car, the Uber…” You apologized to Jona and the rest of you team, after finally making to the Locker Room.

“Uhh, don’t worry, Chica Amante!” Lucy teased.

“Oh, how do you say that in Swiss German?’ Mapí joked.

The team quickly joined in, clearly having heard details from Lucy and Keira, who Leah unquestionably gossiped to. Rolling your eyes, you started getting ready. It didn’t scape you that the only person who didn’t join in was Alexia, who had been lacing the same boot since you walked in.

“Ohh, Y/N, you can be late for game after a deliberate session of Seven Minutes in Heaven in the closest empty room!” Someone joked.

“Bonus if you don’t need all the minutes!” It was added.

As the girls kept poking fun, you could see Alexia get more and more tense, until she finally got up rather abruptly, mumbling something about needing more tape. As she closed the locker room door behind her, the glassiness in her eyes made the decision you had been struggling since the day before much easier.

After not finding the older woman in the most obvious spots, Y/N went to their spot, the little Video room for any last-minute adjustments. Alexia was sitting in the first row, right in front of the projector, as if she was waiting to watch a game tape.

The blonde had her head down, on her hands, shoulder shaking, and sobs barely muffled by her hands. Choking down her own sobs at how hurt Alexia was, Y/N made her was quickly through the room, sitting next to the Spaniard, pulling her into a hug.

“Shh… First, we get thought this, then we talk.” You whisper, cutting her protests.

With her safely tucked in your arms, you two stayed like until she was ready. Holding her for what felt like forever, Y/N felt more in peace than she had felt in the past months.

A small part of her brain kept reminding her that this was one of the most important game of their careers, but Alexia was far more important. It was almost a full hour before the Spaniard was ready, slowly untucking herself for the safe spot that hid her from the world. It was several minutes later before she even managed to look in your direction. It was even longer before she spoke.

“I’m sorry.” The blonde broke the silence, with her voice trembling and oh-so-quietly that Y/N had to strain her ears to hear it properly.

“Alexia…”

“No, I’m sorry. For everything, really. You deserve so much more than what I’ve done to you.” She whispered, before adding with a broken voice. “I-I hope the date yesterday went well.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m stupid.”

“Alexia.”

“I was scared. After Jenni, I was completely broken. Then I let myself open up and she broken me too. Hell, a part of me was still broken when you came along. In the beginning of the year, I promised myself that right now I just needed to focus in getting better, so I closed myself for any shred that could lead into something more. But then you came and made me yours without me even realizing. When I did, I got terrified. I-I was certain that you would break me too, but I couldn’t take it. Not from you.” She cried softly.

“So, you took a step back before I could do anything?”

“Yeah. I thought that if you didn’t know you couldn’t break me too.”

“Ale…”

“No, it’s okay. I can get over it, is not even your fault that I completely fucked everything up.”

“Well, I really hope you don’t. I spent almost the entire “date” yesterday talking to Lia about you, about how much I love you.” You said, caressing her jaw, getting yourself lost on her honey gaze.

“Oh…” She gasped. “But..”

“Well, we agreed on telling everyone it went well because we were not interested in doing that again, but with a stranger. Neither one of us were ready to move on.” You chuckled.

“Can I kiss you? Please?”

You nodded, leaning forward, and meeting her lips. In that moment, everything was right again. Hearing her breath get caught up, her hands caressing your waist, the warmness of her skin. Everything was Alexia. You were undoubtedly hers.

Getting lost on her was far too easy. It always was. It took you every ounce of self-awareness too pull back, only to be allowed after a shred of pecks and nips. Eyes closed, breathing the same puffs of air being expelled from your heavy breathing, you felt like you were dreaming again. Too afraid to open your eyes and wake up, you remain basking in her.

“Can I have another chance? I need to make it right, to be yours and make you mine forever.” Alexia asked, hazel eyes looking through heavy hoods, as if you’re the only thing in the world.

“I don’t know if I trust you.” You whisper, feeling you vision blur though unshed tears.

“That’s okay. I want to earn it back, it’s the most important thing for me. I want your permission to work for it, but if you don’t want it, I swear to leave you alone.”

“Don’t you dare doing that.” You tell her, kissing her cheek.

You two stay there for a few more minutes before getting up, finding you way back to a very panicked locker room. Turns out that vanishing for over an hour right before a match made everyone very worried.

Making up with Alexia was easily the peak of the day but beating Lyon and kicking them out of the Champions League in a packed Camp Nou, after losing to them on the away game, with you two having the game of your lives surely made its way as a second peak of what started out as a bad day.

The next few months were spent with you two thick as thieves once more, the team back on the comfortable routine. It was the next year’s pre-season when you gave her the green flag that you trusted her, and it was exactly a few after she gave you a bar of you favourite chocolate that she asked you to be her girlfriend. It was also then that she told you that she bought all the chocolate of her favourite store.

The Sun made you feel warm, loved, cared, cozy, at home, yourself and so many more things that you weren’t quite sure that could be described as feelings. But right now, buried under and completely surrounded by everything her on their home, Y/N would vow on whatever entity that existed that Alexia the Sun itself.

#woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics

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tojivu · 7 months

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stopp i need more of gojo w six eyes omg 😭😭😭 that last one was so adorable

# SIX II ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note you ask and i deliver :3 please keep the asks flowin my 2 month break is soon!! i am fortunately very free.. also i think i might make one with husband satoru :7

✰ — cw / tags fiance!satoru , read part 1 first because it makes more sense , gn!reader , swearing , gojo being so pretty you’re literally in a daze LOL , not proofread , sfw as always

✰ — playing endlessly by alina baraz.

✰ — word count 1k

"they need to start a fucking cab service here."

GOJO SATORU, your now fiancé, has been whining for the past half an hour—and as his lover, it is your (unconsented) responsibility to hear all of it. the snowy haired man walking in front of you has his handheld fan out in a futile attempt to cool himself off, and of course it reaps no benefit: it's thirty three degrees, ninety one in fahrenheit. what would a measly fan be able to do?

that's precisely what you say to him, your mood was sour as well; having to listen to your querulous husband-to-be grumble about the weather and the walking distance was taking a toll on you.

"plus. . . who was the one who," you found that talking made you feel hotter, so you tried to refrain from long strings of words. "asked to eat at a restaurant. . ."

you huff. ". . .40 minutes away from the station. . ."

you two were sick of tokyo, and you suppose it's partially your fault as well: you've been pestering him for the past month to visit the countryside to get some fresh air. you thought it would be cooler here, seeing as to how rare cars and buses were to come by—ironically, a car or bus is exactly what you two need at this moment.

at least now, your pool of choices for honeymoon destinations are narrowed—the silver lining that was not so silver amidst the heat, and compared to the amount of walking you had to endure.

"we should've just went to switzerland."

it takes a long while before you two make any turn. the pavement is stretched long and far, and the only buildings you'd come across were tiny houses belonging to the countryfolk.

gojo is walking backwards, ranting to you about what could've been in the swiss alps: on and on about snowball fights with you and napping together on a couch in front of a cozy fire. all of his eyes are looking at you, a pitiful gaze in each pair.

yet, you're still here, in the blistering and merciless heat. there was nothing complaints would change, it’s not like you could teleport.

"well, just book a flight to switzerland yourself, then!" you hiss, looking away from gojo, who seemed so unappreciative of the quality time he’s spending with the alleged love of his life.

your scolding makes him laugh. a smug smile spreads across his face, because he was just kidding: he supposes it's not half bad because you're still here with him.

though, he still thinks it would be better by tenfold if the weather was just a little bit more compassionate.

you don’t realise gojo’s stopped walking and is standing in front of you, as you’re preoccupied with the sulky attitude; you bump into him, almost tripping and falling off the concrete pavement—not before he catches you with quick arms and undeniable strength.

you would’ve fallen face flat onto the road if not for your fiancé instinctively reaching for you, and he’s prepared for an earful when you realise what just happened.

“satoru,” you grit your teeth. he closes his eyes, all six of them, in preparation for the scolding he was going to receive from you. “do you not have anything in that dense skull of yours?“

his arms are firm around your waist and your hat is poking at his chest. you look up at him, realising his eyes are open now—blinking at you ever so slowly, as if asking for pity.

all six of his eyes blink in sync, and you spend a good ten seconds staring at his face. something about the way his eyes glistened in the harsh sunlight and the way his hair frames them perfectly, snowy white hair clashing with the blues of his irises—a trance was what he had you under.

“stop looking at me like that.”

“i thought you liked them.” gojo puts on a pout, and it’s too obvious that he’s fishing for your affection—he might as well just ask you to tell him what he wants to hear.

nevertheless, you spoil satoru; as you have always done and continue to do. you think he’s too used to your cooing and that somebody definitely needs to humble him, but you know that somebody wouldn’t be you.

“i love them, ‘toru.” you say, and his pout disappears as quickly as it came. “i love you.”

the whites of his teeth shine in the sunlight when he hears you say those precious words; it never fails to confuse you, how easy it is to please gojo—except that it isn’t, he was only easy when it came to you.

he takes off your hat and you scowl at the heat that your hat has been shielding you from. gojo presses a kiss onto your forehead, not pulling away even after seconds have passed.

“love you more.”

you scoff. “i’m not getting into that argument with you.”

he finally pulls away and his eyes blink at you again, with that same sulking expression. “so you don’t wanna say it back? do you not love me more, y/n?”, and there goes his comedically unconvincing pout.

you bite the inside of your cheek, attempting to put on the sternest look you can; but you take one more good look at him and it’s utterly useless.

people found it hard to get their ways with you. you were a stubborn person, naturally—standing your ground was something that came easy to you. you wonder why it’s different with satoru, though.

perhaps it was his face, his painstakingly handsome face—but you know it definitely had something to do with the way he looked at you, the way his eyes and gaze made you weak in the knees.

“i love you more.” you give in for the second time, and seeing the smirk on his face form makes you realise you’ve done it again: fallen right into his trap.

the pairs of eyes on his forehead and cheeks shut their eyelids. “no, think i love you more.” satoru declares before planting another kiss, this time on your right cheek. “i know i do.”

such a sly man, you think—you wouldn’t marry anyone else.

221023 — it’s 4am..

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st-danger · 4 months

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i am BEGGING to hear about swiss ruining phantom's orgasm

It's cruel, Swiss is aware. Needlessly, some might say. Needlessly mean when he's done nothing to deserve it, when Aeon's followed all his instructions and been such a good listener for him. When he's trembled and sweat for him and allowed Swiss to hurt him in a very particular way by denying him repeatedly.

"Swiss," Aeon croaks, and if Swiss had more of a heart, maybe he could be swayed. Aeon grabs onto his shoulder, hand noticeably shaking. "Please," he whines, looking so small and so vulnerable naked and clutching to him this way. "It hurts."

Swiss dips down and places a soft kiss on his cheek. In his hand, he feels Aeon throb. The heat of him.

"Need it bad, huh?"

Aeon gulps down some air, and nods.

Swiss tightens his hand and begins to jerk him in short, hard pulls. The reaction is immediate, a nervous whine mixing with the slick wet noise of Aeon's cock being stroked in earnest. Pre and lube and spit- it's all there, and the poor thing is so shiny with it all. The head flushed dark, veins prominent. No wonder he says it hurts now. Again- if Swiss had a heart, and if Aeon didn't get off on this treatment the way he does, he might be more forgiving. Aeon's dissolving now, eyes screwed shut, chewing on his lip. Hips trying to thrust up to meet Swiss's hand, though it's a pathetic attempt. He can't even keep a rhythm. No coordination. Just lost to the sensation and some of the neediest Swiss has ever seen him.

"That good?" Swiss asks, like he doesn't know. Aeon nods yes anyway, tries looking at Swiss's hand, seems to realize that's a mistake, and his head presses back into the bed, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other pawing at Swiss. His balls are drawn up so tight and small, the muscles in his abdomen jumping when he gives his hand a twist around the end. "This what you needed?"

"Uh huh," Aeon breathes.

"Want me to make it cum?" Swiss asks and delights in the answering moan. "You gonna let me squeeze it all out of you?" Swiss can feel him getting even harder, so close to shooting. So close to satisfaction. "Go on and tell me."

"Make it cum," Aeon wheezes, sounding like he might pass out against the backdrop of the obscene skin on skin. "Please make it cum, I need-"

One more twist of his hand and Aeon tenses and gasps, body jerking forward and Swiss wishes he could have a video of this next part. Photographic evidence he can revisit later whenever he wants. His spine arches, and his little toes curl.

"Oh- fuck," Aeon grits out, "makin' me- oh, you're- gonna cum, gonna cum." Entire body so tense. Leaking out a few more blurts of pre for good measure, so wet it's almost slimy.

Swiss gives the head an extra little rub, and Aeon gasps when he lets go.

"Oh- no," Aeon says, frantic, terrified. "No, don't, don't- oh no- no," he repeats, and struggles to touch Swiss, to look down at his cock and realize what he's about to endure.

It's too late.

His cock, his red and aching cock straining up into nothing, desperate for relief, bounces and without any further help, any further stimulation to make the what he's had to endure bearable or maybe even worthwhile- Swiss tickles his sack, all tight and sensitive, and his poor dick wags around and pulses all over his belly, spits his load out wherever it wants with no hand to guide it.

Aeon sobs and Swiss is there to lick the horrible, frustrated tears off his cheek after, while he continues to quiver and cry.

#st-speaks #ghost #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost fanfiction #ghost fic #ghost headcanons #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #swiss/aeon #swiss x aeon #swiss/phantom #swiss x phantom #nameless ghouls

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chapel-of-rizztual · 9 months

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This has me thinking about Swiss going into heat on stage. He tried so hard to ignore it, tried so hard to act like he was fine and nothing was wrong. But about halfway through the set it hits him all at once making his knees buckle.

He can smell Mountain. It makes it so much worse. The earth ghoul always worked up a sweat behind those drums but today it was particularly bad, the rich earthly scent flooding his senses and clouded his mind like thick fog.

He looks back at Mountain, leaning against the mic stand for support, hoping to catch Mountain’s eyes from under both their masks. Mountain isn’t paying attention to him, too busy focusing on playing, which he should be too, but he’s distracted by Mountain, watching his strong arms come down on each drum, with strong hits. He groans, unable to help himself, wondering what they’d feel like hitting somewhere else.

He feels himself collapse with need, grinding against the mic stand as his knees hit the floor. Mountain’s looking at him, he can feel his eyes burning into the back of his head, can feel the disapproving stare from under the mask, but he can’t stop himself now. The pressure on his cock is too good, too much, and nothing in the world could get him to stop now. There’s slick soaking through his trousers, running down his thighs, he knows Mountain can see it, know he can smell it as he watched Mountain scent the air, sees him gritting his teeth with a growl, bringing his arms down on the drums even harder.

He’s moaning under the mask, thankfully the loud music help cover it up, but he knows that Mountain is close enough to hear him. He can’t stop rocking on his feet, pushing his cock into the cold metal of the mic stand.

There’s a tapping onto his mind connection, like someone is poking at his brain and if he was in the right state of mind he’d ignore it, focus on his work, but right now he’s lost the ability to think. He opens his mind and let’s the wavelength in.

"if you're gunna act like a bitch in heat, I'm gunna breed you like one.”

Mountain’s deep voice booms in his brain, echoing around, even over the loud music

Swiss falls forward with a loud moan, he almost falls face first into the floor, but he doesn’t care about that. His brain is gone, turned to mush and leaking out his ears. His arches his back, pushing his ass out and high in the air, presenting himself for Mountain. If his tail was unglamoured it would be hitched up high over his hip, the perfect position to be mounted and bred.

He can’t see Mountain from this position, and he’s glad for it. But he can still hear him, sneering at him in his mind.

“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d let me come over there, Mount you like the bitch you are.” He hears the drum miss a single beat before resuming it’s otherwise perfect playing. “You want that? Want to be mounted and fucked right in front of everyone? Show them all how well you take such a big cock, how well your greedy little hole just swallows it? How well you take a knot? Wanna show them what a good little breeding bitch you really are?”

Swiss moansloud enough that Phantomlooks behind him with a looks of shock on his face. Swiss doesn’t care though, just arches his back even more for Mountain, feeling a rush of slick leaking out of him, and running down his thighs.

He feels Mountain in his head again, poking around, and it makes him whine before Mountain has even had the chance to say anything.

“And once I was done using you, breeding you, I’ll turn you around and make you show the audience, show them your little hole all stretched out and full of me. Show them how I claim you, and every single one of them will know who you belong too.”

Swiss blacks out a little as he cums, feeling his cock pulsating hotly in his jeans as he feels himself coat the inside of them and make them warm and wet and sticky. He whines, long and low in his throat, before getting back up on very wobbly feet, trying to act like that didn’t just happen.he grimaces, his jeans sticking to him in an uncomfortable way, damp and sticky.

He has to sing in a second, his part of the backing vocals coming up. He looks back at Mountain, only to find the earth ghoul looking directly back at him. He watches as Mountain runs his tongue along his fangs, palming at the very obvious erection in his jeans, all while never missing a beat. He feels his cock begin to kick and fatten back up at the wild look in Mountain’s eyes, and he knows right then and there that he’s in for a long night.

#As you can see I am feeling very normal about Swiss ghoul today #the band ghost #ficlet #ghost headcanons #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #My writing

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chanelleedwards · 7 months

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‘Virtual Insanity?’

Acrylic paint and markers on a rubber vest mould

2022

#rubber clothing #graphic design #print #urban decay #swiss grit #textile design #surfacedesign #hand painted #handmade #wearablesculpture #wearableart #tshirt #painting #text art #fashion design #type design

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cirrus-ghoulette · 2 months

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ministry breeding program swiss?

Swiss prefers to have his cock milked rather than breeding into a dummy ghoul.

He likes to lay down on a comfy nest made by the tease, and lets his handler secure the toy over his cock. It looks like a fleshlight, and certainly feels like one to Swiss, but it has a tube running off of it to collect his come once it's available.

For his teases, he prefers male ghouls if he can get one. Preferably Rain. He's just... So wet. It really gets Swiss going when he sees how Rain squirts just from external stimulation by his handler, Cirrus.

Cirrus dons a pair of black latex gloves, tight to her skin. Makes a show of running her fingers through Rain's folds, then withdrawing and rubbing her forefinger and thumb together while humming in thought at the sight of the slick coating her fingers.

While Swiss watches, his hips thrust of their own accord, the toy around his cock squeezing and releasing at a tempo that he chose. It's been lubricated so much that it feels like Rain.

Rain mewls, keeps dropping his front half of his body and lifting his hips, his tail twitching high in the air, a clear sign of 'Mate me NOW.' but Swiss can't do anything about it. They're seperared by a clear acrylic half-wall, put in place to stop any ghouls from pouncing on their teases.

Swiss knows it's affecting Cirrus too. She's a strict handler, but Belial, Rain's scent permeates every inch of the room, along with the sounds of his insistent whimpers and whines. He watches as Cirrus grasps the bulge of her strap in her trouser leg, readjusts it a little. He sees her nose twitching, the flush she gets on her neck when she's aroused.

When Cirrus kneels to spread Rain with her fingers, this only encourages Swiss. He humps the air harder while staring at rain's hole, the way that it clenches and releases around nothing. Cirrus gently tickles his clit with the pad of her index finger, chuckling at the way he immediately squirts out more thick slick with a wanton whine.

The thing that really gets Swiss going, and he didn't realise that they were going to do this, is when another handler brings a large syringe full of come out to Cirrus. Was that his come? Aether's? Aurora's? What was Cirrus going to do with it?

Oh.

That's what she was going to do with it.

She kneels by Rain again, parts his lips with two fingers, and then slowly eases the syringe into him. Rain's sobbing with pleasure. It isn't even a toy, but just to be filled is enough for him.

Swiss is grinding into the nest at this point, up on his forearms and groaning through clenched teeth as Cirrus situates the syringe in Rain, then slowly presses down on the plunger.

Rain cries out in relief, his own hips jerking as the fresh ghoul come is implanted directly into his hungry womb. Slowly, his belly swells with the volume of it.

That's what tips Swiss over the edge. He grinds desperately, pressing a button on a nearby remote to speed up the clenching of the toy. His handler stands ready, waiting for the signs of his knot swelling.

It's the sight of Cirrus removing the syringe, followed by a big spurt of come dripping out of Rain, that pops his knot. His handler kneels and presses the toy down onto it, making Swiss grit his teeth. Soon after, his come starts flowing through the tubing, his eyes half lidded as he watches Cirrus press a plug into Rain.

#ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #headcanons #my works #Bun answers asks

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riconas · 9 months

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Rico. I saw your tags on that post.

Please, would you be so kind as to tell me how a swissalps breeding session would go down? I'm so very eager to hear your thoughts. :)

give it up for swiss (he bit off more than he could chew, again)

“Put it in,” Swiss breathes. “Inside, c’mon.”

Mountain grabs a fistful of his ass and squeezes hungrily. Swiss has got a nice ass, truth be told. He’s got a nice everything. But Mountain doesn’t tell him this, because Swiss doesn’t deserve it, and Swiss’s ego does not require any further inflation.

“Put what in?” Mountain asks patiently, and Swiss groans in frustration.

“Your cock. Put your cock inside me.” He rocks back against Mountain’s hand. “Hurry. I’ve been waiting so long.”

As if Mountain hasn’t, stuck behind his drum kit, watching Swiss present himself like a whore. He’d seen that back arch, that ass pushed up into the air, and had to shift in his seat for the next fifteen minutes, trying to find a position that didn’t make his cock feel like a boulder in his pants.

Mountain gives his ass another warning squeeze. “You’ve been waiting so long? How do you think I feel?” He smacks Swiss right on the hole, watching it twitch all pink and wrinkly. “Face down ass up, huh? That's how you want it?”

“Obviously,” Swiss says, somehow managing to sound prim, even with his chest pressed to the mattress. “Fuck me open, Daddy. Breed me.”

“You’ve already done that, clearly,” Mountain says, as he slides a finger in to find Swiss already stretched and slick. He works another in just as easily, twisting his wrist so his knuckles catch nicely on Swiss’s rim.

“Oh, it wasn’t just me,” Swiss replies. “Rain helped.”

Mountain imagines Swiss bent over the couch in their dressing room, pants shoved down to his ankles, Rain’s cock buried in his ass. Thinks of the noises he’d make, the stifled gasp at the first push in, the punched-out little groans when Rain gets him solid in his sweet spot. All it does is get him even more hot and bothered.

A small part of Mountain wants to keep this going, to drench his fingers in lube and spit and what may very well be Rain’s slick, to shove them down to the knuckle and curl them into his prostate until he’s dribbling all over the sheets. He could get his whole hand in, probably. He could go at it for hours. It’s the least Swiss deserves.

But fuck, he’s so hard.

“Guess you won’t need prep, then,” he says, and nudges the leaking head of his cock up against Swiss’s hole, teasing at the ring of muscle, pressing against it just to watch Swiss tense up. He taps Swiss’s hands, twisted into the nice sheets. “Spread those cheeks. Let me see.”

Swiss obediently complies, pulling his asscheeks apart to expose himself. A trickle of cum slides down to his balls, tracking slick in its wake. Mountain wants to smear it around with his finger. He’s sure Swiss wouldn’t mind.

“Put it in,” Swiss says again, but he doesn’t sound so authoritative anymore. “Please. I want your cock. Just put it in.”

Swiss is tight. Tighter than he ought to be, Mountain thinks, as he sinks in so considerately slowly, sliding a big hand into Swiss’s curls so he can pull his head up, enjoying the loose give of his back, so much more flexible than he lets on. Mountain wants to see it arched pretty, wants to stroke along the curve of strong muscle and velvet skin. He’ll push as far as it goes, stretch that gorgeous body to its furthest limit, until Swiss is gasping and stiff, and—

“Are you in?” Swiss asks, his voice tight and strained. “Is it in all the way?”

“Halfway,” Mountain says, rubbing his flank reassuringly. “Where’s the tough guy? Thought you wanted me to breed you.”

“I do,” Swiss grits out, and then he makes a kind of choked-off sound when Mountain slides in another couple inches, his arms giving out underneath him. “It’s so big.”

“It?” Mountain asks. “What’s it?”

“Your cock,” Swiss moans, and then his voice wheedles off into a reedy keen as Mountain presses in all the way, full balls pressing snugly against the back of Swiss’s thighs. He’s so warm inside, so soft. Mountain slaps his lovely ass, just to watch it jiggle, and Swiss clenches around him like a vice.

“What were you thinking about?” Mountain asks, as he begins to thrust, in and out, nice and steady. “During the ritual.”

With some difficulty, Swiss hoists himself to his elbows, turning his head just enough to gaze at Mountain. Mountain catches a glimpse of the wet patch on the sheets, where Swiss must’ve been drooling.

“I thought about Rain,” he says, soft and breathless, and Mountain stiffens. “Using me like a fleshlight, rough as hell—you know how he is. Really having at it, you know? Right up in my guts. Fucking his cum so deep I’d feel it for days—oh, fuck—”

Mountain, having grabbed him by the throat, yanks his head back like a stubborn tree branch in need of shearing. “Try again.”

“Ah!” Swiss gasps. “Sorry, sorry. Thought about you. Thought about your cock, in front of all of those people—they’d love to have watched, Mount. It’s so big, they could’ve seen it from the last row—”

Swiss needs to shut up, Mountain decides. He should never have given him an opening to be chatty. He clamps a hand over Swiss’s terrible mouth, jabbing his cock as deep as it will go, and when he leans over to gaze at Swiss’s face, Swiss’s eyes have rolled back in his head.

“You think Papa knows what you get up to on that little stage of yours?” He speaks the words right into Swiss's ear, all the better to be heard. He can feel his knot swelling as he pounds into Swiss—the resistance is making it harder and harder to squeeze past the threshold of his body. “You don't think he'd be disappointed, seeing his favourite ghoul spread out onstage like a whore?”

It’s a rhetorical question. Mountain doesn’t actually want Swiss to give him an answer—it’s more fun to wonder, and more entertaining to watch Swiss struggle to speak with Mountain’s hand over his mouth.

“Blasphemy,” Mountain says, taking advantage of the silence. “That’s what it would be, and you know how the Clergy feels about blasphemy.”

Swiss gnaws at his fingers, and Mountain snatches his hand away with an irritated growl. Good things never seem to last.

“Give it to me,” Swiss whimpers, pushing back against Mountain, squishing his balls with every pass. “I’m your bitch, baby. Breed me like it.”

Mountain huffs out a laugh. “You sure whine like one.”

He isn’t usually so crass. He prefers to save the dirty talk for special occasions, like Christmas, or Easter—the holier the better. Swiss is very good at bringing out the worst in him.

“Fuckin’ fill me up,” Swiss moans. “I can feel it. Do it, shove it in me, make me your slut—”

Mountain grabs his hips and holds him tight. With a wet pop, his knot slides in, the fit hot and tight and fucking perfect. He shudders at how blindingly good it feels, how startlingly divine. It pulses in time to his heartbeat, shooting so wonderfully deep, painting Swiss’s insides, soaking his dick. Thighs shaking, dick throbbing, mind blanking. The whole trifecta.

Swiss wails into the sheets, his own cock spitting ropes of cum, wagging all over the place, his position a complete mockery of the one he’d taken onstage. He flattens himself against the mattress in an attempt to escape, but stuck together as they are, Mountain has no choice to follow, and nearly squashes him.

“Stop moving,” Mountain grunts, grabbing Swiss’s flicking tail and pinning it aside. His head spins with the pressure around his knot, still expanding, locking him in. Really locking him in.

“Oh, no, no,” Swiss cries out, trying in vain to scramble away, to push Mountain’s cock out of his ass. Alas, he cannot. “It’s too big—out, get it out, I can’t—”

“Too late,” Mountain says softly, petting over his curls, uselessly placating. “I’ve got to breed you properly, darling. Can't have it all spilling out, can we?" He kisses the top of Swiss's head. "You just sit tight. I’ll make it catch.”

#miasma oh miasma #how i adore you #rico writes #rico's ficlets #swiss x mountain

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coffeeghoulie · 5 months

Text

nightmare

or: Aeon dreams of their time in the Pit in Swiss's bed

content warning for a panic attack, Aeon does go nonverbal and then uses sign, heavily implied autistic!Aeon, and there is some accidental self-injury (Aeon bites themself during the panic attack) and a little bit of quintessence magic as a sleep aid

they/them for Aeon

Swiss wakes up, warm and comfortable and not quite sure why he's awake, when he hears it. Aeon's curled up so tight it looks painful, the smaller ghoul whining like a kit, and he feels something in his heart pang. He pushes himself up on an elbow, leaning over them.

"Buggy, sweetheart," he whispers, pushing a lock of sweaty, bone white hair from their forehead with a gentle claw, accidentally brushing over one of their many scars. "Wake up, baby."

Aeon's eyes snap open, one iris swirling lilac with quintessence, the other milky and unfocused. They yelp, struggling out of Swiss's arms so violently their head smacks against the headboard. Swiss hisses through his teeth in sympathy, reaching out to comfort them.

Their eyes lock on his outstretched hand, the unglamoured claws, and Aeon snarls, a wave of quintessence shooting out from them. It feels like prickling static in his brain, a thousand blaring klaxons, and if he weren't a little bit quintessence himself, it would knock him on his ass. But as it stands, the quintessence just feels like a sudden migraine, and Swiss cups his hands over his ears.

"Buggy," he grits out. "Aeon, fuck, stop, hurts."

As suddenly as the mental assault starts, it stops. Aeon lets out a pained whine, eyes wide and glassy. Swiss shakes his head, willing the ringing in his ears to stop. "Buggy? What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Aeon doesn't stop staring at him, eyes wild, shining in the darkness of the room like a cat. They open their mouth to speak but no words come out.

"Okay," Swiss nods, glamours his claws away, holds his hands palms up, open, non-threatening. "Nightmare, sweetheart?"

Aeon chitters frantically, words far from their grasp, bringing their hand to their mouth and biting down hard on the meat of their palm. Swiss's eyes widen at the smell of iron, reaching behind him for the chew necklace on his nightstand.

"Hey, hey, don't bite yourself, buggy," Swiss says, switching into their ghoulish language, reaching as gently as he can and offering them the necklace. "Bite this, okay?"

Aeon sniffs at the necklace, tentatively taking it before chomping down on the silicone, gnawing it frantically. Their tail thrashes, hackles raised as they growl around the chew.

"You're safe, sweetheart," Swiss coos, tail swaying soothingly behind him. He keeps his distance, watching the younger ghoul carefully, hands still open where Aeon can see them.

It takes several painfully long minutes until Aeon calms down enough to sign, fingers still trembling, but Swiss knows what they're saying. "Bad dream. Woke up, you were over me. Touched my scars and I got scared."

Swiss's posture softens, reaching subconsciously for them before returning his hands to his sides. "I'm sorry, stickbug. I knew you were dreaming, I didn't mean to touch them, or scare you."

Aeon runs a frantic hand through their hair, pushing the sweaty strands out of their face. They squeeze their eyes shut, taking a deep breath. "I know. Just, in the dream you did."

Swiss can't hold back the keen that rips from his throat. "Buggy," he says, shifting closer to them. "It was just a dream, sweetheart."

Aeon's ears pin flat against the sides of their head, and they wrap their arms around themself. "I know," they croak out, voice rusty as they let Swiss's chew necklace fall from their lips, and they shake their head and start signing again. "But it felt real. Felt like it did in the Pit."

"You're safe," Swiss breathes, opening his arms. "You're Topside, with us, and no one is ever going to hurt you again. I swear on the Seven Hells, Aeon."

Aeon whines again, kit-like, and grabs the chew necklace, biting down hard on the silicone. "You mean it?" their fingers fly, and Swiss nods. He's never been so certain in his life.

At the confirmation, Aeon lunges forward, burying their face in the warm crook of Swiss's neck, knocking them both down so Swiss lays on his back. The breath leaves his lungs in a rush, and he laughs under his breath as Aeon nuzzles close to him.

"Watch the horns, buggy," Swiss says, gently pushing Aeon's sharp little horns away from his cheek. Aeon whines, but the way their tail plods against the mattress, Swiss can tell they're just trying to tease him. "You want the weighted blanket?"

Aeon doesn't emerge from Swiss's neck, just raises a hand curled into a fist near his face, making a motion like they're enthusiastically knocking. Swiss chuckles, running a hand up Aeon's spine.

"Alright, my darling ghoul," he says, grabbing the weighted blanket at the foot of the bed, struggling to evenly pull it over them. Aeon giggles as Swiss curses, the weighted lining sliding around inside the soft cover. "Oh, knock it off, Aeon," he teases.

Aeon chuffs happily, snuggling into Swiss's chest as he gets the blanket settled, sandwiched between his solid form and the weighted blanket.

Swiss smooths his fingers over Aeon's shaggy hair, playing with the white streak of his forelock. "I've got you, buggy. You want a little magick? No more bad dreams tonight?"

They hum, considering, and then nod, a slight little movement that Swiss feels more than sees.

"Can you sign it?" Swiss asks, whispering in their ear, pressing a kiss to the scarred part, where the chunk had been torn out long before Swiss had met them. "Need your consent, buggy."

Aeon grumbles, worming their arm out from the warmth under the blanket to sign yes again. Swiss takes his hand, chuckling softly as he kisses their knuckles. "Alright, stickbug," he hums, his other hand still smoothing over Aeon's hair. There's a swirl of violet energy, crackling softly like carbonation, and Aeon visibly relaxes in Swiss's hold as the magick hits him.

"There we go, darling," he coos, eyes growing heavy himself. "Love you, bug."

Aeon chuffs again, taking their hand from Swiss's, making one more sign in front of his face before sleep takes him, thumb, pointer and pinky extended. Love you too.

#i need to brush up on my asl #i almost very confidently described aeon signing no when i meant for them to sign yes #dot's writing #swiss ghoul #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #cw self harm #cw nightmares

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v-ternus · 7 months

Text

*that* SwissDew video

So ughhhhhhhh, yall saw that right?!?!? Anyways. It made me start thinking. And then my brain did some thinking with @iamthecomet And our combined thinking has now left me with 1.5k words of nasty.

Under the cut for your reading pleasure :)

The stage lights barely have a chance to dim before Swiss is herding Dew backstage, hand on his back, planted firmly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dew snarls as he’s accidentally shoved into the shoulder of an unsuspecting techie. Swiss swings his head back to mumble a half-assed apology, only to keep moving forward. He doesnt dignify the question with a response beyond plastering a shit-eating grin across his face.

The rest of the walk back to the dressing room goes by quickly and Dew is practically thrown in right as he turns the doorknob. He tries to find his balance but his boots catch on a part of the scrunched up carpet and it sends him to the floor. He falls hard, dropping all of his weight onto his knees. He’s sure they’ll be black and blue by the end of the night.

Swiss closes the door behind them and postures himself right in front of Dew.

“Infront of everyone?” Dew grits through his question, jaw clenched at the disaster that Swiss could’ve caused.

Swiss brings a hand up to cradle Dew’s face and coos as he thumbs across his heated cheeks. “Dont pretend like you didnt like it bug.” Dew has no rebuttal. Because of course he liked it—

He liked the way Swiss’ hand splayed over his hip and waist in an attempt to hold him steady while his other hand gripped his cock. He liked when Swiss dug his fangs into his tense flesh.

He especially liked the way the fans cheered as he was gropped in front of them all.

He’s been hard since then, struggling to play his parts with each second that passed by. He almost missed his cues because he couldnt walk without his guitar rubbing against him.

Dew is pulled out of his head when Swiss drops himself down to his knees, loosely interlacing his legs with Dew’s. His free hands falls to the front of Dew’s uniform and palms at his crotch. Dew looks down and the sight makes him whine. Swiss’ hand covers up so much of his lap. Its as if they both thought the same, cause Dew swears he heard Swiss laugh.

“Stop teasing bitch,” he tries to sound unamused, aggressive even. But he fails. His voice wavers as Swiss squeezes his throbbing cock particularly harder.

“But its fun to watch you like this,” Swiss says as he kneads at Dew. They both know he could be meaner, mean enough to leave Dew achingly hard and alone, but thats not what Swiss wants right now.

He palms at Dew for a mere moment longer before he finally starts unlacing his pants. He works the garments down just enough for Dew’s cock to spring up towards his vest, the ruddy tip spreading his slick across the delicate velvet.

Swiss drags a finger along the short length, tracing along the vein that runs on the underside, stopping at the spot right under the head. He makes Dew hiss when he presses against down and watches as a bead of pre wells up at the tip.

“You’re an asshole.” Swiss chuckles again, loving the way Dew squirms and protests under his touch. “I know.”

He gives Dew no time to adjust— he just sends things from zero to a hundred. The teasing and feather light touches turn into a warm hand completely wrapping around his cock and slowly stroking from root to tip. The pleasure is a relief, and he makes sure to share his enjoyment. Breathy moans freely fall from his lips and they sound like music to Swiss' ears.

“You sound so pretty Dew.” Swiss sounds like he means every word.

“Fuck you.”

Swiss tightens his grip before tutting his disappointment. His eyes cast over Dew with a stern, cold look on his face. “That’s a bit rude isnt it?” Dew tries to ignore the game Swiss is playing at.

“But I think I'm feeling really generous right now princess,”

“Dont call me that.” Anything but that, Dew thinks.

Swiss brings his free hand up to thumb at the base of one of Dew’s horns. Its nice, nice enough that a low purr rumbles through him. But whatever softness he was basking in goes up in flames as Swiss uses said horn to wrench his head back. His neck bends at an unnatural angle and he feels exposed.

“Shh baby, Daddy knows what’s best, doesnt he?” Swiss’ voice drips thick, laced with poison that floods Dew’s bloodstream.

Swiss leans forward to rest his forehead against Dew’s.

A sinister smile creeps over Swiss’ face as he moves his grip to wrap around Dew’s dick and balls. Much to Dew's displeasure, he squeezes. Really squeezes. And hell it fucking hurts. Tears threaten to fall from the corners of Dew's eyes. He winces and tries to pull himself backwards, away from the pain. But all it does is tug against his already tender groin.

“Here’s how this is going to work baby,” Dew breathes through the pain and focuses on the deep voice weaving into his hazy mind. He listens to the sounds of sin and depravity and it reminds him of all of their other nights spent like this– Swiss just taking him apart, putting him through the thick of it until he has proper streaks of tears working down his chiseled features.

“You get to cum whenever you’re ready,” Dew’s breath hitches, sensing a trap. There’s gotta be a catch to this. Dew manages to make eye contact and he’s surprised by what stares back at him. The golden eyes trained on him have suddenly gone soft, donning a warmer, less threatening gaze. Had it been any other night, it would be endearing, but tonight, its nothing better than a threat.

“You just gotta fuck this cute little clit into my fist, how’s that sound Princess?”

There it is.

Dew nods mindlessly. Says anything and agrees to it all, just to get the crushing grip away from his jewels.

“Yeah… whatever. Fuck, just let go.” Having finally gotten his answer, Swiss’ hand withdraws and returns with a kinder touch. This time, the hand moves to cup Dew’s balls. He rolls them gently, tugs at them just enough to make Dew groan before backing off again.

“Are you ready princess?” There’s that fucking word again. Swiss doesn't wait for a response, he just sits up, and holds his fist right over Dew’s achingly red dick. Dew takes what's offered and rocks his hips up. The sound he lets out is embarrassing at best— a high, feminine moan that shoots from Swiss’ ears, straight down to his cock. He's now pressed up tight against the seam in his underwear.

Dew keeps rocking, chasing his release so that this can all just be over. The filthy wet noises he's making between them fill the otherwise hushed room.

He can't stop himself from listening to Swiss whisper how pretty he gets like this, or how he cant wait to get back to the hotel so he can dress him up in that lingerie set Aether had bought.

Swiss feels Dew's cock kick at the mere mention of Aether, he files that away for a later date.

“You want me to breed you nice and good after this Dewy? I’ll fill you with my kits, you’d be so full.”

“Shut up,” Dew groans. “Shut up and just let me finish.” His eyes screw up tight and he tries to think of anything else besides Swiss’ words, but it's a futile attempt. The words flash across his mind and echo in his ears.

Swiss can feel how close he is, he can feel each twitch of Dew’s cock when his thrusts press him into Swiss’ hand just right. Dew starts to lose his pace, thrusts quickly becoming uncoordinated ad his breathing becomes more and more ragged.

Swiss watches his quickly pitiful moves and decides to help him out. He starts to jerk him off, doing his best to match the pace of his hips so that his fist bottoms out at the top of his thrusts.

“Are you close my love?” Swiss presses his lips against the side of his mate's face, breathes in his scent, warm and burnt, and presses a kiss to his temple. He hears a pleased hum and knows that this is his chance.

"Whenever you're ready Dewy." Dew tries to speak. He tries to find the words-- any words-- that could describe this moment. But his brain just wont seem to work. All he can do is pant and feel each decadent, wet glide of Swiss' hand over the swollen head of his cock.

"Close. -m close,"

“Go ahead and squirt all over daddy’s hand,” Swiss surprises even himself with how he was able to say the words.

Something inside Dew unravels. He surges forward, digs his claws into Swiss’ sides as he cums. They watch as milky ropes of his spend stripe over Swiss' hand.

Swiss works him through his orgasm, lightly stroking until his cock is drained of all he has to give. He only stops when Dew twitches from overstimulation.

Some of his cum drips down to the floor and Swiss groans in disappointment. There's always next time.

The multi ghoul leans forward and crashes his lips into Dew's. The kiss is lazy and there's no sense of urgency to go along with it. They just kneel in the middle of the room, and lap at whatever parts they can reach.

Swiss pulls back and catches an eyeful of Dew’s puffy red lips and the blissed out look across his face.

“You were so good for me princess.”

Dew feels his cock make a feeble attempt at filling out again– princess.

#nameless ghouls #the band ghost #swiss #dew #swissdew #swiss x dew #dewdrop ghoul #ghost band #fire ghoul #multi ghoul #swisstopher #ghost fic #ghost band fanfic #vee writes #dewdrop ghost #swiss x dewdrop #swiss ghoul #swiss ghost #ghouls

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p1nkcanoe · 9 months

Note

Bratty Mountain. He deserves to be on the other side of it for once, as a little treat you know? He's acting up, testing the new ghoul to see if he means buisness (he does)

Ace Up My Sleeve

[ phantom x mountain smut ]

summary: phantom is perpetually horny and refuses to ask anyone for help. mountain is determined to change that. warnings: masturbation, rough oral sex, teasing words: 3982

!! Phantom is described as being a young ghoul. Although the ‘teenager phase’ is mentioned, Phantom is a fully mature ghoul and is nowhere near actually being “young”. The phrase refers to the idea of being newly summoned and getting used to a new body and its urges.

Click here to read on Ao3 or read below:

Phantom has been settling in well. He’s a quick learner, gets along with everyone, is never angry, he’s truly the perfect ghoul to have around. Not to also mention that he’s sweet and energetic, charming in all the right ways, but he’s also young. Really young. Even for a ghoul he’s far younger in his years than anyone else. Where some ghouls in the den are pushing multiple millennia, Phantom can’t possibly have more than 200. Even Sunshine, who at one point had been the youngest, just added a revolution to her 800-something. And there’s nothing wrong with a young ghoul. He’s well past maturity–responsible and independent–but he’s still in what Copia once described as the equivalent of the ‘teenager phase.’

He eats through everything they have in the kitchen, rifles through the pantry and the freezer just to grumble about there being ‘nothing good’, stays up for days at a time playing video games on the console he stole from the common room until someone has to turn it off and tear open his curtains… but he’s also unbelievably horny. And it’s painfully obvious.

The smallest things turn him on. He’d popped a boner at the sight of Cumulus walking past his room towards the laundry in a plain cotton bralette, excused himself from their lake day last week right after Rain rolled his shorts up impossibly higher while sunning on the lawn, and even yesterday the smallest sliver of Swiss’ exposed tummy while he reached upwards for his morning stretch sent the ghoul into a stuttering, inarticulate loss for words between bites of his waffle. Everything gets him worked up and not once has he asked someone to help him. Mountain is going to change that.

It’s late at night when Mountain considers making his first move. He’s walking through the halls with a handful of dirty dishes when he hears the ghoul groaning in frustration through the heavy walnut door that guards his bedroom. The gap between the floor and the bottom edge of the door gives him away, evidence of worn floorboards and leveled stone underneath. It’s a rookie mistake to not invest in some sort of soundproofing. It’s not the first time the earth ghoul has heard him, but usually he doesn't sound so… exerted. It’s clear he’s been at it for a while with no sign of release, and Mountain stops right outside that door, listens as he groans and grunts and curses between gritted teeth and listens to the little fap fap fap as his hand flies over his shaft. Even with the door closed he smells delicious. He almost bends at the waist to set down his dishes and invite himself in but something in his head tells him not to. He shouldn’t. He doesn’t want to scare him. He doesn’t want to embarrass the ghoul or make him uncomfortable. A ghoul’s bedroom is their sacred space, afterall. So he shakes off the thought instead and finishes taking his dishes to the sink. He goes to bed and dreams up more natural approaches to getting the ghoul on his dick.

Turns out it’s a lot harder than it seems.

—

He finds his first attempt in the common room, where the game console has been returned due to popular demand, and Phantom sits engrossed in one of Dew’s first-person shooters. He fails to acknowledge when Mountain saunters in and settles in one of the armchairs, lounging lazily with his arms up and his legs spread. He’s fresh from a nap and dressed solely in an old pair of gray sweats. He hadn’t bothered to throw on a shirt or pull on a pair of boxers, especially after being woken up to obnoxious game noises, and had instead toyed around with himself in the haze of waking up in the middle of the day. He sits, watches with faux interest, and his cock sits pretty against his thigh–just enough to be obvious but not alarming to anyone else who may wander through.

Phantom plays on obliviously. His fingers mash over buttons and drag against the sticks of his controller and the character on screen barrels through a line of enemies. Combo x4, the screen reads, and Phantom makes a pleased noise to himself.

“What’s the game?” Mountain asks, forcing himself to sound interested in the game he’s watched Dew play for hours at a time. Phantom turns his head, catching Mountain’s eyes before letting his eyes flick down his torso and towards his hips. He opens his mouth but his voice paralyzes in his throat when he sees it. “It’s– oh, um,” he stutters, glues his eyes back to his controller and his equally as paralyzed fingers. The screen lights up with red.

You Died, Press x to Retry.

“You okay?”

Phantom goes red in the face, mashes the x button more times than necessary to respawn, and Mountain smirks. “Yeah, yeah, I’m cool.”

Phantom stumbles around for the right buttons to press. He walks into walls, accidentally throws out his selected weapon, and keeps getting penalized for damaging allies. He’s doing terribly, and it makes Mountain want to laugh out loud. In the span of the next three minutes he manages to die in game two more times and make so many mistakes that his teammates end up kicking him from the lobby altogether. But even when the title screen shows back up and the message appears in front of his face he never gets angry. He fumbles around for the controls again and clears his throat when Mountain spreads his legs a little wider.

There he goes, Mountain thinks when Phantom hastily adjusts his body from sitting criss-cross on the carpet to sitting back on his butt against the couch with his legs crossed tight to hide his little boner. It’s too easy. Just to get him worked up a little more, Mountain adjusts himself in his pants, grips at himself to a more comfortable position, and Ant audibly curses under his breath, drops his eyes to his lap. He waits for the ghoul to make a move. He can see it in the way his hands shake that he wants to. He’s fighting himself.

Do it, he wants to say. Get up. Touch me. He waits another handful of agonizing minutes and finally Ant makes a move– “I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” He pushes himself up to his feet and shuffles awkwardly into the hall. By the time he comes back Mountain is gone.

—

His second attempt hadn’t been much of an attempt at all. In fact, it had been completely unintentional the effect he’d had on the ghoul.

The entire pack had gathered together for a movie night of some random romantic comedy that the girls had suggested. They’d spent an hour setting up pillows and blankets into comfy nests where ghouls and ghoulettes could cuddle up together for the duration of the film. Phantom had chosen a spot on the floor and fit himself snugly between Aether’s side and the bottom edge of a couch, Mountain had decided to take over the loveseat on the far side of the room. He’d fluffed it up with pillows and the velvet throw from his own bed, and by the time it was time for the movie to start Sunshine had decided his spot was now their spot to share. And he didn’t mind. Her warmth pressed into his side and her head on his chest is always a pleasant feeling.

It takes about forty minutes for Mountain to lose interest in the film. It’s not like it’s a bad movie– it’s actually really good–but Sunshine is beginning to get handsy and when she slips a warm palm under his shirt to pluck at a nipple he can’t help but get a little distracted.

When he pulls her in by a hand under her chin she chirps in surprise when he bites at her lip and immediately soothes it with his tongue. They fall into it after that, pressed together as close as possible on a cramped couch, and they’re quiet about it for the most part so nobody pays them much attention. But Mount can feel it–those mismatched eyes. They’re burning into him from across the room and it makes him smile against soft lips. The ghoulette sucks on his tongue. He drops his hands to her ass and squeezes. She lets out a giggle and the kiss goes dirty.

He takes quick little glances across the room, catches the other ghoul’s eyes over and over, and stares back with hooded eyes when the ghoulette latches onto his neck. Mountain hisses at the scrape of her fangs against his jugular, rolls his eyes back, and Phantom never looks away. Mountain watches from the corner of his eye as the young quintessence ghoul tries to act like the movie is interesting, as he tries to act like he isn’t infatuated by the couple just a few feet away, but he fails. Miserably.

Mountain grabs at Sunshine’s thighs, gropes her soft skin and forces her closer and closer to where he needs her to be until she settles right over his chubby cock and begins to subtly grind. The groan that escapes past his lips is accidental and someone from the floor throws a pillow that hits him in the side of the head, but he’s too far gone to just stop there. He breaks away from Sunny, gives her a goofy smile, and guides her away carefully so that he can stand. Phantom’s eyes burn holes into him the entire way. He apologizes to his pack in a way that doesn’t reflect his true intentions, offers the ghoulette his hand to go finish what they’ve started in a more private setting, and wiggles his eyebrows at the young ghoul when he excuses himself. Phantom shifts against Aether’s side under the eyes of the earth ghoul and Aether grunts, pulls him closer with an arm behind his back and traps him there.

Mountain disappears into the darkness of the hall.

—

The third time he catches Phantom alone and vulnerable, he’s sure he’ll break him. He times it all perfectly. Everyday around 9:00 after dinner has been cleaned up and the pack starts settling down in their rooms, Phantom heads into the bathing room to brush his teeth and freshen up before bed. Mountain’s memorized his routine, the products he uses to keep his skin smooth and hydrated and in which order he applies them, knows that he spends approximately ten minutes standing at the vanity on his phone while his facemask dries, and always finishes by applying some kind of oil to his two-toned hair. It’s a little after nine when Mountain hears the pad of his feet pass his bedroom and push open the massive door that guards the bathing room.

Right on time; like clockwork.

Mountain allows the ghoul a handful of minutes to get into his routine and busy himself at the vanity. In the meantime, Mountain strips down bare and pulls his towel from the hook behind the door, wraps it tightly around his waist and tucks it at the hip. He lets it hang a little low just for emphasis.

Phantom is applying the same green salve to his face when Mountain walks in. He offers the ghoul a hello and gets a muffled one in return as he applies the mask to the skin above his lip. He doesn’t receive any more obvious attention apart from casual glances through the mirror, but Mountain knows he watches as he drops the towel from around his waist and wades into the bathing pool.

It’s innocent, domestic and familiar, and Phantom pays him no obvious attention. And so Mountain goes through his own routine of picking a bottle of sweet smelling soap from the vast selection on the pool’s edge and squirting a generous amount into his hand, spreading it into his hair until it gets all bubbly and slippery, and then wading deeper into the pool to dunk his entire body and wash it all out. The surface of the pool gurgles when he goes under and the air blooms rich with lavender and bergamot. Mountain emerges from underneath and wrings the water from his thick hair with his hands, reaches for the bottle again to lather his body with soap. He puts on a show, touches at his skin deliberately and slowly, and shines up the smooth planes of his chest and patches of dense hair. Phantom watches him in longer glances now and Mountain watches right back with dark, sultry eyes. Inviting. Alluring. He backs himself up against the edge of the pool and leans back. The suds stuck to his skin slide down with thick droplets of water. He should dunk himself, cleanse himself of the excess, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drags a hand through the suds and drops it to his half hard cock, stroking himself with the slick and moaning softly at the pleasant stimulation.

At the sink, Phantom has gone rigid. He actively tries to ignore the sight behind him but when he looks up into the mirror to brush his teeth he can’t help but take a little peek. Mount keeps rubbing at himself and groaning through his teeth when he squeezes at the head. It’s a sight too hot to ignore and Mountain is practically begging him to become his voyeur when he throws his head back and pulls at himself deliberately from root to tip. Water splashes up onto that gorgeous chest. His tail swishes back and forth below the surface. Phantom grips the edge of the vanity so hard his knuckles turn white and his claws squeak against dark marble. His toothbrush stays bitten between sharp teeth… and he watches unabashedly through the reflection.

When Mountain brings a hand up to pull and pluck at a pebbled nipple Phantom finally caves, but not fully. He drops the toothbrush from his mouth and it clatters into the bowl, rolling around the curve before settling somewhere at the bottom, and he grabs at his chubbed cock through his flannels. Mountain grins. He’s been putting on shows for the ghoul all week but just the sight of the ghoul giving in just enough to touch himself makes flames lick at his belly.

He surprises himself when he opens his mouth, lets his head hang low, and moans out into the peaceful lull of the bathing room- “Ahhhh, Ant-” He hears the sharp intake of the smaller ghoul’s breath. “I know you want it. Can see it on your face. On your body…”

This is it, he thinks. He’s got him wrapped around his finger, all he has to do is-

There’s a clatter of objects. A sudden and hurried noise. And Mountain looks up to watch as Phantom gathers up all of his things and hurries for the door. The bulge in his flannels is obvious and sticks out even more with his clear lack of underwear. “Goodnight, Ant,” Mountain says, a tinge of disappointment laced into his words. “Night,” Phantom mumbles back. The door closes heavy behind him and Mountain rolls his eyes.

So close…

He might as well finish getting himself off.

—

Mountain feels wholly defeated when he shuffles back into his bedroom. He hangs his towel up on the hook, pulls on a pair of boxers and a tshirt from the drawer, and gives himself a once-over in the mirror. His hair is still wet. Droplets drip from messy strands and soak little circles into the fabric of his tee. His cheeks are flushed and rosy, evidence of his recent orgasm, and his lips are bitten red. He doesn’t feel tired but he looks it.

He’s about to head to bed and peel back the sheets for an early turn-in when there’s a knock at his door. His brow furrows, his door should be unlocked. Nevertheless the ghoul walks across the room, where he twists the knob and pulls it open to a much unexpected guest. He doesn’t get to mutter a word before Phantom invites himself in and grips the earth beast by the neck, shoving him into the cold stone of his wall.

He looks angry, disheveled. Like he tried too hard to think about something and ended up cracking. Phantom kicks the door closed behind him, gets all up in Mountain’s face… the best he can with their significant height difference. He smells like soap and mint and lust. Mountain snickers despite the press of sharp claws into the sides of his neck.

“You finally come to your senses, bug boy?”

“You think you’re so smart, teasing me all week, getting me all worked up…” He fixes his eyes to Mountain’s mouth where he licks over a sharp fang and pulls him closer until they’re centimeters apart. “I knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Then why didn't you do anything about it?”

“Because I didn't want you to think you were in control.”

“Then prove it.”

The young ghoul grips the taller by a horn and pulls him down roughly to smash their lips together. Mountain moans at the taste of his tongue between his lips. He tastes like toothpaste and something sweet and intoxicating. Mountain tries to deepen the kiss, to slide his tongue against the other’s already in his mouth and he yelps in surprise at the feeling of a fang catching on the soft inside of his lip. He smells it first, rich and metallic, and then tastes it when Phantom licks at him hot and wild and slides it into his mouth.

The grip on his horn is unrelenting. It pulls and twists and forces the ghoul to comply with its movements to keep the teasing beast at bay. But even more is the pressure on his neck. He adjusts his fingers and readjusts again, never completely letting up on the pressure, but then he finds Mountain’s carotid artery and hones in on that sweet spot between his jaw and his ear and Mountain starts to go fuzzy. He goes brainless, drunk off of the floaty feeling in his head, and chases the taste of the other ghoul on his tongue. Any ounce of previous defiance and surprise flies out the window only to be replaced with something confusing that he wouldn't quite call submission, but the unexpected dominant demeanor definitely is intriguing. He goes fuzzy in the brain, and weak in the knees, lets his eyes fall closed, and right when he’s about to tap out that hand around his neck releases him and he floods with sweet, sweet oxygen, gasps, and moans lazily into his mouth against open lips.

When he opens his eyes he looks straight into mismatched ones. Locked on. Predatory. Consuming. This was not at all the way he expected this to go, but who is he to complain with another ghoul’s hand around his neck?

“Get on your knees. Suck my cock and finish what you started.”

Phantom pulls away just enough to help force the massive ghoul to his knees and Mountain groans. The ache at the base of his skull feels like lightning down his spine. He knows he should keep his mouth shut–just fall to his knees like he’s been told to–but he can’t. He looks up despite being forced to look downwards, snickers between fangs still laced with poison. “I’m surprised you're not taking care of it yourself. Tired of jerking yourself to the point of exhaustion?”

Phantom growls. A pretty rumble from deep in his chest.

“You talk too much. Too confident. Doesn't anyone ever tell you to shut your mouth?”

“This is unlike you. Who knew the new guy had it in him?”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

With a final shove Mountain’s knees hit the floor.

“I know enough, like how you’re scared to ask for help getting your dick wet.”

Phantom scoffs, pulls himself out of his pants and gives it a few pulls. He has a gorgeous cock–speckled pink and gray in an irregular pattern and shiny at the tip–Mountain can’t wait to put it in his mouth.

“I’m not scared, but you didn't ask either.”

There’s some truth to that, so Mountain shrugs in a passive sort of surrender and lets his tongue loll out past his lips when Phantom inches him closer by his massive, curling horns. “That’s what I thought,” he mumbles and slides into that hot, wet mouth.

Mountain knows he is in for it when Phantom slides in wholly to the hilt, when he holds Mountain there for a few seconds just to see his eyes well up and sting, and then lets go of himself to grab onto that other horn. He grips Mountain’s head like he’s an object for his pleasure; a toy. The earth ghoul grips the bottom hem of his tshirt in his fists, tries not to touch, but he starts to shake when Phantom forces him impossibly deeper and buries the earth ghoul’s nose in his hair. Mountain struggles to breathe, but he breathes in the heady smell of Phantom and hums around the obstruction in his throat.

After a long and torturous minute Phantom pulls out. He rubs the ruddy head of his cock against swollen and spit-slicked lips with little turns of his skinny hips, moaning at how easily it slides against messy skin. He’s going to fuck his face. Mountain knows it. His own cock jumps in his boxers and he holds back a little noise in his throat. For once, he holds his tongue.

Phantom does exactly what Mountain thinks he’s going to do. He pulls him back onto his cock and holds him still, uses his mouth like a toy to get off, and Mountain lets him because maybe he deserves it. All of his teasing, and his attempts to seduce the young ghoul into his bed, had caught up with him. He relaxes his throat as much as he can, flattens his tongue against the bottom ridge of his teeth, and takes it.

“Fuck,” Phantom curses. “You’re a lot more pleasant when you’re on your knees. Quiet. Pliant. It’s music to my ears.”

Mountain knows he isn’t quiet like Phantom said. He’s making all kinds of wet noises and drooling down his chin. He’s even gagged a couple of times when Phantom’s cock jabbed at the spot in the back of his throat, but he knows what he means. If he was in control of his body he’d probably pull off, spit something snarky back just to test the ghoul and find out how dedicated he is, but he can’t. He looks up through lashes stuck together by tears, catches sight of Phantom’s lip between his fangs and his brow scrunched up in pleasure. It makes his belly burn, he wishes he’d make a noise and stop trying to act like Mountain doesn’t feel good.

Mountain wraps his lips around his shaft, flexes his tongue, and tries his best to suck. The effect it has is devastating. Phantom groans out loud and beautiful, pulls Mountain down hard on his cock and buries it deep just like he knows he likes. He throbs against his tongue, hot and heavy, and Mountain thinks he’s going to bust. He hopes he does, his throat is starting to get sore–it’s not every day another ghoul barges into your room and forces their cock all the way down your throat. He tries to swallow around him but it’s a futile attempt. His throat spasms, he chokes a little, and Phantom pulls out with teeth clenched tight.

“Get on the bed. Strip. I’m gonna make you regret ever underestimating me.”

His tshirt hits the floor before his knees unglue themselves from wooden boards.

#phantom ghoul #mountain ghoul #ghost smut #ghost #ghost bc

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st-danger · 9 months

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May I humbly request some SwissDewTher, or SwissRainxDewTher? Sorry im terminally ill with “everyone gangs up on Dew and he loves it” disease.

He's easy to hold. To restrain. And maybe that's part of the satisfaction, that he's easy to manipulate and maneuver the way they see fit in the moment, and even if he struggles- it's just because he likes when the hands tighten further. He has no illusions about actually being able to get free. He doesn't always want to find himself in this position, enjoys getting a hand around Rain's throat or a hand inside Aether, but when it happens this way, all clothes and choice stripped from him, allowed only to take what they want to give... how could he complain?

He finds a way.

Arms held behind his back, wrists enveloped in Swiss's strong hands, legs spread and held by Rain and Aether, he wriggles ineffectively and shoves his hips rudely upwards. He has been touched, kissed, and caressed everywhere but where he is the reddest and most sensitive.

"C'mon," he groans. The pointless thrusts make his cock bounce, desperate for attention. "Touch it, please."

"You're a slave to this thing," Aether says, and reaches for it. Dew tenses in anticipation, and yelps when all he gets is a cruel flick on the head. Tries to jerk away protectively, but with his legs held, it affords his hips little movement. It looks funny, at least to Swiss and Rain who chuckle audibly. Dew pulls on his arms and moans again when Swiss’s grip tightens. If he's lucky, if he really tries to fight, he might get gentle bruising.

"It's really hard," Rain says, letting a hand smooth up his skinny thigh, feeling the way his quad is pulled tight from his tension.

"I'm really hard," Dew corrects. Behind him, Swiss hips hitch forward to press his erection against Dew's lower back, hot and insistent.

"It's hard," Rain says, and scrapes blunt nails across the soft skin when he pulls his hand back. "You're a toy."

Oh, Dew's going to combust one of these days.

"If I'm a toy," he grits out, and can't help from shamelessly humping the air, "then fuckin' play with me."

Aether reaches out with a single finger and Dew freezes, already for another painful flick, but what he gets is worse; a tender pad rubbing the frenulum, and his cock wagging to and fro with every shock of pleasure the motion pulls. His eyebrows are knit together, mouth hanging open while his breath comes harsher and harsher.

"Please, please, make me cum-"

"It," Swiss corrects, and Dew shudders, screwing his eyes shut again, little toes curling in. The objectification is a sick little thrill, and the way his balls go tight, nobody misses it.

"Make it cum," Dew relents, nodding, unable to look anymore. "Make my dick cum."

Rain's fingers are tweaking a nipple, an act he has no warning for with his eyes shut. He hisses, and wriggles, and feels slightly insane.

"I need it hard," Rain says, pinching and tugging so sweetly, in a way that reminds Dew horribly of the motion you'd use to milk a cow. It's nothing he can examine to closely for fear of losing it for real. "I can't sit on something limp."

"Don't worry," Aether says, and grasps him for the first time tonight, and Dew's hips stutter. Something bleeds from Aether's warm hand, something tingly, something unmistakably magick-

"Oh no," Dew says softly.

"I'll be hard as long as you need it," Aether assures him, withdrawing his hand and letting Dew shiver underneath the quintessence forced into him.

Rain is shucking his pants immediately.

Swiss nuzzles into the crook of his neck, places a soft kiss to the lobe of his ear.

"Me next," he says, and punctuates the statement with a lick up the shell of his ear. "And I'll hold him down for you after," he says to Aether.

Dew opens his eyes when he hears the cap of the bottle of slick, watches Rain reach between his legs, and listens to the sigh when he presses a long finger into his hole in one slow go.

"Get yourself ready for me, baby," Dew says, fighting the sudden urge he has to pass out.

With a wet sound, Rain fucks himself and stares right into his eyes.

"It," he murmurs. "I'm getting ready for your cock."

"We'll remind you as often as you need," Swiss says.

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chapel-of-rizztual · 8 months

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Heyyyy (with the full intent of giving you a smut prompt)

Can i get a #59 with Phantom offering to help Mountain with an unexpected rut bc everyone else is conveniently otherwise busy somehow?

you read my mind I had an idea so similar to this in my head for so long.

The first thing Mountain noticed when he woke up was how hot it was. The second thing was how hard he was. Uncomfortably so, a knot already formed at the base, ready to be fucked into someone and the sensitive sticky head brushed against the thin fabric of his bed sheets making his hiss and roll his head back against the pillow.

He knew he was in rut, knew he was last night but he ignored it, hoping he was wrong and symptoms would magically disappear. He was wrong though, he knew that now as the need to take, claim and breed already flowed through his veins. It was early, almost a month early but he suspects Auroras first heat last week might have something to do with it.

He squeezes at the base of his cock, around his half formed knot with a groan before kicking the cover off him. The cold air hits his body immediately making his nipples stiffen and pebble. He almost conclaves in on himself at how sensitive they are already. He lets out a growl, almost in annoyance, not bothering to pit any close on and makes his way out his room and towards the hallway to the ghouls den.

He stalks down the hallway, looking for someone, anyone, to help him through this unexpected rut, Swiss, Cumulus, hell, even Dew. He lets out another growl at the thought of Dew innocently stumbling down the hallway and finding him and Mountain forcing the little ghoul onto his hands and knees, forcing his ass high into the air and fucking him right then and there in the hallway for anyone to see.

His cock throbs at the thought, a bead of pre forming as the slit and he squeezes around the base again making himself groan. Unable to find anyone he makes his way to the kitchen, hoping, praying, to any god there is that someone will be there. His ears prick up hearing noise coming from the kitchen, how his heart rate increasing at the suspense, he’s praying for anyone, all the ghouls flying through his head, but when he reaches the kitchen he stops dead in his tracks.

Somehow, he’d forgotten one. Phantom. Poor, unsuspecting, innocent, little Phantom. He was stood at the kitchen counter attempting to make coffee when Mountain walked and, and almost walked right angle out again. He would have if Phantom hadn’t noticed him and giggled. “You look like shit.” Mountain suppresses a growl, his fists balling up at his sides. He can’t do this, not to Phantom. He’s too young, too new and inexperienced to be able to handle him in rut.

“I-have you seen any of the others?” His voice is slow and thick. Phantom doesn’t look up from whatever he’s concentrating on. “Who?”

Mountain grits his teeth and takes a deep breath. “Anyone, doesn’t matter who.” Phantom shrugs and shakes his head.“Haven’t seen anyone all morning, the dens been empty since I woke up.” His eyes flick up to Mountain. “I didn’t even know you were here until just now.”

Mountain could cry. He actually might. “Do-do you know where they are?” His voice crack on several words. Phantom shrugs again. “No, sorry.” He holds his mug up for Mountain to see. “You want some coffee?”

Mountain screws his eyes shut as he feels tears welling as his cock kick pathetically between his legs as another wave of rut washes him. He shakes his head. “No, no thank you. I need to find someone.” He turns to leave the kitchen but is stopped by Phantom piping up again. “I’m someone.” Mountain whimpers and let’s out a sob. “You are the wrong someone.”

Phantom, unphased by Mountain, walks around the counter so he’s standing directly in front of him. “I can help you, you know.” Mountain looks down at the little ghoul, stunned. Phantom just rolls his eyes at him. “Don’t look so shocked, you’re in rut right? It’s so obvious you smell like a pine forest, you’re flushed red and your cock is ridiculously hard. Kudos by the way, that thing is seriously impressive.”

Mountain goes to cover his cock with hands but Phantom stops him by taking his hands in his. “Let me help you, please.” Mountain shakes his head, feeling the tears that head previously welled in eyes drop down onto his cheeks. “I can’t, I’ll hurt you, it’ll be too much you to handle.”

Phantom rolls his eyes again, thumbing away the tears on Mountain's cheek. “I think I can decide what I can and can’t handle.” The determined look on Phantom’s face was honestly a little reassuring to Mountain. “You have to be sure. Are you sure? Once I start I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

Phantom smirks at him. “I’m more then sure.” He grabs Mountain’s hip, pulling him into his so that his cock his pushed into his belly. “Now come on, big boy. Hurt me, use me to make yourself feel good, I know you want too.”

Something in Mountain snaps then and he grabs at Phantoms hair, pulling his head back harshly to expose his neck. His fangs brushing along Phantoms scent gland as a threat.

“You have approximately thirty second to get up to my room beofre I bend you ober this counter and fuck you right here in the kitchen.” He noses long his neck, inhaling deeply. Phantom whimpers and smirks at him. “That a promise?”

#thank you for the ask!#the band ghost #ficlet #ask game #ask me stuff #ghost headcanons #nameless ghouls #mountain ghoul #phantom ghoul #my writing

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