(if you found me elsewhere, i follow back from @gayafsatan)
Decided to make an 18+ horny side blog (mostly for Ghost related stuff lol) bc my main blog is like a decade old and im not gonna go through and check ages there LOL
MDNI !!! Please have your age in your bio or pinned to follow this blog
I'm in to some kinky shit, and it's all FANTASY and/or CONSENSUAL ! Don't like it, block or filter, don't be rude please.
Ask box is open, feel free to be horny about Ghost (or anything else im into on main tbh) :3 just be polite 😌
Tags:
- i'll tag all ghost related stuff as "the band ghost" and fics specifically as "ghost fic". Ghouls centric thoughts and fics will be "ghoul fic"
-i'll also tag the fandom for non ghost fics, probably including "fallout" "mandalorian" "star wars" idk im horny about a lot of things
- ill tag my real life sexual exploits and thoughts as "irl horny"
-i can try to tag anything you need me to if u dm or send an ask BUT i'm super forgetful so pls tread carefully!!
UGH you got me thinking about a scary movie night with mary..
like think about it. you grabbed some cheap candles from a random convenience store, some random freaking snacks, and now it’s late and night and you’re on the couch with mary next to you.
except he’s becoming more interested in YOU than the movie iykwim…👀
Well, doesn't this sound super cute, hm?
GN! Reader. NSFW 18+ Beneath the cut
CW/ Oral sex, general terms for genitalia
Just sat around watching a scary movie with Mare, losing interest because the gore doesn't live up to the hype. You insist you wanna watch it, but he can't focus anymore.
So yeah, he starts just kissing your cheek. Then maybe your neck. You try and shrug him off, tell him you're trying to watch this movie but he just tells you that's fine, "you keep your eyes on the screen, baby."
He sinks to his knees on the floor, tugging the waistband of the trousers you're wearing. You figure you'll ignore him, watching the TV but letting him carry on. You could keep a straight face, right? Like a little game. Could whatever Mary was doing be more interesting than what was on your TV screen?
Well, when his mouth first pressed against your core, yeah, that was more interesting than the movie on your TV... But you tried so desperately to stay focussed, to not give him the satisfaction of winning you over.
Except Mary is just too damn skilled with his mouth, and he's absolutely relentless. Within minutes you're biting your lip and desperately avoiding his gaze.
And Mary doesn't stop, growling between your thighs and going to town... If he weren't so damn skilled and he didn't know how to play your body like he can play his fucking guitars, this would be easier for you.
"Got your attention yet?" he asks cheekily.
"N-nope... s'good movie..." you whimper, squeezing his head with your thighs uncontrollably. Damn, he feels good...
Another few minutes, and he's brought you to the edge, movie long forgotten.
"Fucking hell, Mary..." You're gripping his hair at the roots, shoving your hips harder against him. That smug motherfucker is laughing against you. By the time you come undone, he's like the cat that got the cream - quite literally.
"See?" he says breathlessly, sitting back on his heels, "more exciting than this shit-show, huh?" You just hum in agreement, dragging your palms over your face as you recover. "You're too easy, babe," he laughs.
You cock an eyebrow at him at that. Too easy? That's rich. Mary was easier to unravel than one of his many frayed band shirts.
Suddenly you're gripping him by the collar of his shirt, throwing him back to his side of the couch and straddling his lap. His eyes widen, his dick somehow growing harder and twitching in his jeans.
"Easy, huh? Ain't nothin' easier than making you sing for me though, Mare..."
"Oh yeah? I'll take the challenge, babe...."
You can't recall how that movie ended. But you won't forget how that evening ended for a long time...
Comet something you said in an ask you answered stuck with me "Aether & Mountain can't share a bunk together" & ive not been able to stop thinking about like, what if they still tried anyway?
The 2 big boys on tour just suddenly have a real craving for eachother that can't wait & that no one else can satisfy, but they are stuck on the tour bus for the next few nights? Them squeezing in together, pressed so close. Giggling as they whisper & shh eachother as they get eachother off with the minimal movement the tight space will allows them?
I definitely have some thots. (700+ words of them).
They should have probably waited to get to a hotel. But it’s days away, and Aether can’t take it anymore. Can’t take the smell of Mountain reaching him from one bunk away–across the hall. The smell of evergreen and juniper swirling around him but just out of reach.
The bunks are small–too small for both of them honestly. But Aether doesn’t really care. Not with how Mountain is pressed up against him.
They’re face to face, Aether’s back pressed tight to the bus wall behind him. The curtain behind Mountain is just barely pulled closed. Aether should be uncomfortable. He isn’t.
Mountain’s knee is between his thighs, pressed up tight against his clothed cock, hard and dripping already. Mountain’s head is tucked under his chin. Horns glamored away to prevent any unfortunate accidents as he mouths at Aether’s throat, licking away sweat and desire.
Mountain ruts his hips against Aether, whining at the friction–good but not enough. Aether shushes him, laughter on his lips as he does.
It’s late, there’s little risk of waking anyone up at this point. But Aether doesn’t feel like being the subject of one of Copia’s be respectful of each other, the bus is very small morning talks. He tries to pull Mountain a little closer but it doesn’t exist. He digs his fingers into the earth ghoul’s spine and sighs as Mountain shifts, dragging his thigh over Aether’s cock again.
“Touch me,” Mountain whispers.
It takes an incredible amount of effort for Aether to slide his hand between them. But he manages. First shimmying his own pants down just enough to free his cock, then doing the same for Mountain. Just a little. Shifting just enough that he can press them together.
Curling his hand around both of them and stroking. Twisting his hand around their sticky tips. Mountain groans, low, a little too loud but Aether can’t be bothered to worry about it when it sounds so good pressed against his collarbone.
“Help me out, Mount,” Aether whispers, voice already hitching as he rocks his hips into his own fist. He doesn’t have a lot of space to do it, but it’s good enough. The slide of his cock over the hard ridge of Mountain’s is perfect. He feels like his veins are catching fire.
Mountain wiggles a little, shoving his hand down between them and gripping both of them in one big hand just below Aether’s fist. Mountain rolls his hips and keens. Low and wounded and Aether has to shush him again.
“Mount, you gotta–shh,” Aether hisses.
“Can’t help it–fuck–wanted you so bad. Needed this for days.”
Aether nods. He knows. Lucifer does he know. He’s getting close already. Toes curling, pleasure zapping up his spine and through his veins. Balls drawling up as he fucks into Mountain and his own fist. Aided by copious amounts of pre-cum from both of them. The counter rhythm they’ve created makes a slick noise with each thrust. Fuck, Aether really hopes everyone else really is asleep.
Mountain picks his head up, straightens up enough to press his forehead to Aether’s. Aether meets emerald eyes. They breathe the same air, tasting lavender and juniper.
Aether’s going to cum. Right now. The realization takes him by surprise. He feels the whine bubbling up in his chest just as he starts to twitch, to squirt. He surges forward. He seals his mouth over Mountain’s. Letting Mountian swallow his noise as he makes a mess all over their stomachs and hands. Licking filthy into Mountain’s mouth as Mountain follows him over. Whimpering deep in his chest. The worst of the sound muffled by Aether’s tongue.
They could clean up–should. But Aether’s body feels boneless, floating. Content in a way he hasn’t in days. Sleeping together in this bunk is no more comfortable than jacking each other off but Aether doesn’t care. He catches his breath, kisses Mountain one more time. Nuzzling their heads together like he would if their horns were in play.
“Roll over,” Mountain orders. And Aether does. It takes some work but eventually his forehead is pressed to the cool bus wall and Mountain is curled up behind him. Knees curled together. Mountain’s head tipped into the soft hair on the back of Aether’s neck. Mountain kisses him there, soft enough to bring goosebumps to Aether’s skin.
“Is this ok?” Aether asks.
Mountain chuckles, breath warm against Aether’s back. “It’s perfect.”
soft secondo x afab!reader nsfw thought below the cut :)
18+ MDNI
✦ ✧ ✦
Secondo knuckles deep in your pussy with two of his bare fingers, leaning over you to watch your reactions, praising you and reminding you to keep looking at him while he fingers you very gently. Every time he curls his fingers he gives you a soft kiss so he can feel you gasping into his mouth, then he praises you for how good you're taking it.
We had a different prompt for Day 27 but, you know. Things happen.
I don't think we need much introduction after Hairy Papa Night.
Please enjoy a spicy, silly story about hairy Terzo and his Mustache.
“Terzo?” you coo, scratching your nails in his furry chest, kissing his sternum; he smells like his soap and coffee and the clove cigarette he thinks he snuck out on the patio.
You nuzzle into his neck while your fingers work through his chest hair; his cock rising by the second, throbbing insistently against your leg.
“Yes, my love?” he says and you grin, gazing up at him. The shaving cream smeared over the lower half of his face makes his white eye stand out all the more, “What can I do for you?”
You wrap your arms around him and continue to gaze, pressing your body up against his, “You know how you shave everyday?”
“I could shave twice a day,” he says, lathering up a bit more foam.
“What if you,” you clear your throat, “What if you didn’t?”
“I would scare the little ones, I think.”
“Wouldn’t scare me.”
Terzo’s hands still and his eyes slide down to yours, “What you want your Papa to do?” he smirks, setting down his brush and cup and lifting you onto the counter, pressing himself in between your legs - it’s mornings like this, quiet and alone with Terzo, that make you the happiest. Sure it takes hours to get ready but, there’s at least one fuck in there somewhere - it’s like coffee. One good orgasm in the morning is a perfectly acceptable way to start the day, “Tell me what my love wants and I will give it.”
“I want a mustache,” you grin, hands on his hips, keeping him close. Terzo’s hands are on your thighs, his eyes admiring the way it parts in the middle, exposing you to him. He swallows, unable to look away, “I want your mustache.”
Terzo’s eyes snap up to yours and he grins and kisses you and you squeal when half of his shaving cream beard is transferred onto your face. He continues to kiss while blindly fumbling for a hand towel - knocking over all of his (and your) lotions and potions and moisturizers, “Of course,” he grins, wiping off your face in between kisses, “Anything,” kiss, wipe, “For,” kiss, wipe, “You,” kiss, wipe, “but,” he says and you give him a playful snarl, “Oh, don’t pout. I want to wait. No sex until it is ready.”
“How long does it take you to grow a mustache?” you ask, unabashedly nervous about the wait time.
Terzo shrugs, cleaning the rest of the foam off his face - his shadow is not quite prickly but it's dark along his cheeks and jaw and around his mouth. You take a deep breath imagining how thick it will be by lunch, “I have not tried in a long time. Could be days. Weeks, maybe?”
“Weeks!?” you squeak, “I can’t… I can’t wait for weeks.”
“Oh, come on. It will be fun. A little testing of our,” Terzo looks wistfully at the ceiling and then back at you, “A testing of our testes,” he giggles.
You raise an unimpressed eyebrow, “I don’t have testes, thank you very much. And if I did, I wouldn’t need to test them.”
“If you had testes, you could grow your own mustache,” Terzo kisses you, “Please, it will be fun. Besides,” he tugs at the tie of your bathrobe, “We could do it, though. Right now. Just one more time, before we start?” his warm hands sneak beneath the silk and you inhale.
“Oh, fine,” you breathe out, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Fine, fine, fine.”
But it was, in fact, not fine.
You watched Terzo get darker. And then pricklier. And… you bite your lip just thinking about it… the hair really starts to grow. God, he’s walking around in his silky, hanging too low, draped around his hips, purple pajama pants and there’s a trail of hair leading straight down to you-know-where and just the very thought of it makes you shiver.
His wrist - that little spot of flesh between his leather glove and the silk of his chasuble is thick with it. It converges on the outside of his arm and you catch yourself, on more than one occasion, caressing it like a fine, rare jewel. At night, when he crawls into bed - blessedly wearing (at least) his boxers - his thighs are thick with it. Your run your palms up and down them, caressing and massaging until Terzo makes you stop because he can’t possibly keep to his vow of abstinence with you touching him like that. But, Satan. You’re like Smeagol with his ring. Staring. Worshiping. Begging for just one more minute with all that hair! Oh, to just ride that strong, sinewy, furry thigh…
“Is it ready now?” you ask one evening, watching him oil and comb and trim and shape his mustache. You’re chewing on your cuticle and tapping your heel. Eyeing him as he makes sure it’s all full and even, “Please, please tell me it’s ready now?” you beg, leaning on the doorframe, staring at him as he inspects his face in the bathroom mirror.
“Not yet.”
“That shower head is lookin’ real cute, I just want you to know that,” you grumble and he smirks.
“Soon.”
Days and days and weeks and weeks. His mustache just gets thicker and more magnificent. And… do you detect that the rest of him seems. Fuzzier? Thicker? More deliciously dark and scruffy? Yes, as a matter of fact he is looking a bit more Sasquatch than Papa. Your mouth waters as he shrugs on his dress shirt and you slide out of bed, no longer able to contain yourself. You wrap your arms around his middle and bury your face in his chest, “I can’t wait any longer,” you cry dramatically, “I can’t. It’s too much. God you smell so good,” you whine into the fluff, “Please. I’m begging. I need to be railed by a big, hairy, Italian man.”
Terzo takes you by your arms and kisses your forehead, smiling, eyes sparkling - he knows full well what he’s doing to you, “Soon.”
You whine, throwing yourself onto the bed, “Let me just… can’t I just… your thigh, even, Terzo. Please,” He laughs and pats your ass on the way out the door and it does nothing for your resolve, “No, harder, please.”
“I’ll see you for lunch.”
“I’ll be shriveled up and dead by then.”
“Have a good day, my darling,” he says, his voice fading.
You panic a little, “Terzo, wait!” you call and he laughs, again. It’s a lovely sound.
“I am waiting,” he sings back to you and you slide off the bed and run through the room, into his office and arms, “I love you,” he spins you around, kissing and smiling and it’s all very disgusting when you just want to be bent over his desk and have your back blown out, “I love you and all this hair. Every single, wiry thing. Every lovely lock. I love you.”
“You are doing the sucking up,” he says, gazing at you, bumping his nose against yours, “I will take it.”
You sigh once more, sticking out your bottom lip, “Please?”
Terzo rolls his eyes, “No.”
Three more days pass and you’re absolutely feral. Terzo is walking around with his hairy wrists and fuzzy tummy and fucking beard like a goddam Satanic grizzly bear and you’re just… consumed with lust. This is what Eve should have been cursed with. Not periods. Not pain. No, she should have been given the hottest, hairiest, most annoyingly sweet man on earth and not been allowed to blow him.
You glare at Terzo as he pours you another glass of wine. Your seat is next to his at the big, ornate table at the head of the great hall. Before you are tables full of Siblings and ghouls and clergy, all enjoying a lovely family dinner. They are not consumed with lust. They are not currently experiencing the burning, yearning need to breed, “How was your day, my love?” Terzo asks, kissing your cheek - it’s deliciously soft and scratchy at the same time and you have to rub your thighs together to relieve some of the ache from between your legs.
“Really great. I almost fucked a hymnal,” you grumble.
“Well, I have news,” he says, pressing another kiss to your cheek. And then another to your temple and then, to your ear, “It is time.”
You turn slowly, his words echoing in your ears like a horny gong, “What?”
“Darling,” Terzo smiles and kisses you, you moan into his mouth and he only deepens the kiss, his hands wandering, pulling you to him despite the gilded arms of your seat and his throne. You maneuver yourself onto his lap - hall full of Siblings and ghouls and clergy trying to eat dinner be damned. It’s time.
“Say it again,” you smile, kissing him quickly.
“It is time.”
You giggle, “I’m suddenly very nervous,” you bat your eyes, “Will it hurt, Papa? It’s so big and thick,” you run your finger over his mustache, “I’ve never seen one so large. Oh, Papa… will it hurt?”
Terzo groans, burying his face against your shoulder, hands tangling in your hair, mouth pressed against your pulsepoint - it’s bristling against your skin and you sigh into him, grinding into his lap, “Papa will make sure it doesn’t hurt,” he purrs, “Papa knows how much you want it.”
“Okay, well,” you say, hopping off his lap - Primo gives you a long-suffering stare as you trip up on the table cloth and then stumble forward, hopping upright, “Stop fucking around, Terzo. Let’s go.”
Back in the bedroom, Terzo is propped up against the headboard - naked and smiling. He looks like a god. A sinewy, sexy, strong, hairy as hell god. The candlelight makes it all sparkle, there’s a bit of silver coming in now and it’s absolutely gorgeous. And he knows it, the big, stupid wide grin on his face is confirmation of that, “Well?” he says, stroking his cock - the wreath of dark curls around it is thick and heat pools at the base of your spine when you think about riding him; the coarse friction on your clit, “What are you thinking, hm?”
You crawl onto the bed and kiss his big, hairy toe, “I am thinking,” you grin, kissing his thigh, nuzzling into the fur at his groin, “That I love you so much,” you kiss his belly and then his chest, “Just like this,” you straddle him and he sinks down onto the pillows, helping you onto your knees on either side of his face, “But if I don’t come soon I am literally going to just die. Do you want me to die, Terzo? Because I am absolutely gonna die - oh my god,” you gasp, clinging to the headboard, Terzo’s mouth pressing against your pussy, “Oh.. yes,” His tongue hasn’t even touched you; he’s just nuzzling and rubbing his mustache against you, his chin and his beard and it’s so much. It’s sharp and soft and coarse and you close your eyes, focusing on your pussy on Terzo’s face. Every inch of you is on fire and all that heat is gathering between your legs. Your ears ring and your eyes go blurry. Your calves burn and your thighs tremble.
It is so worth the wait.
“Fuck me,” Terzo says and your eyes shoot open.
“Already!?” you squeak.
“My face, idiot,” he laughs, “fuck my face - you are thinking that I am wanting to wait for weeks and just -,” Terzo’s voice is muffled by your pussy; you brace your feet on his shoulders and your hands on the headboard. You roll your hips and somewhere beneath you, Terzo sighs happily. His tongue finally appears - a hot, wet thing in your pussy and on your clit as you ride him - it's a hard, delicious contrast to the bristles of his mustache and beard. There is no spot that is untouched; a plethora of sensation makes your brain turn to mush, your eyes roll and your jaw go slack.
Terzo’s hands slide up your belly, cupping your breasts and toying with your nipples. You’re overwhelmed - and aching for more, “A cock in my ass wouldn’t be too bad right about now,” you wheeze and Terzo cackles beneath you. It’s just enough - that little extra vibration and you’re hurled over the edge. Three weeks of no sex doesn’t help, either - coming before you’d like - shaking and gasping and gripping Terzo’s hair with your fist as you work your way through your orgasm.
Finally you still, allowing Terzo to come up for air, “There you are, my beauty,” he grins, mustache and beard shining with slick, “Are you well?”
“Oh, Satan help me,” you sigh, “Lilith, bless me. I am well.”
“Good,” he grins, kissing your thigh, nipping at the soft, sensitive skin, “Now,” he pats your ass, “On your back.”
You obey, flopping back between his legs and letting him figure out the rest. He hooks two hands behind your knees and pushes your hips up, exposing you to him. He gives you approximately zero seconds to prepare before his mouth is on your asshole, “Oh, oh my god,” you writhe and squirm beneath him, “Oh… yes. Thank you.”
Terzo comes up, eyebrow raised, “You did want… you were not joking about cock in ass, yes?”
“I don’t care what the fuck you do,” you huff out a laugh, “Put your mustache back on my asshole or I’ll kill you.”
Terzo grins, sinking back down, “I am never, ever shaving, again.”
Dew sneaking into Aethers room late at night and very shyly whispering,
“Wanna have your kits.”
Aether has never woken up so fast in his life. There’s a deep blush on Dew’s cheeks and he looks so nervous, eyes casting around the room refusing to look at him, like he’s scared Aether will say no. Like he could ever say no to such a request.
He pulls Dew into his bed, sitting him on his lap and runs his hand through his hair.
“Yeah? You want me to breed you, baby?”
Dew whines, squirming on his lap.
“Yes please.”
“Gunna let me fill your cute little tummy up? Get you nice and fat and round with my kits?”
Dew gasps, rutting his cock in the swell of Aether a belly.
“Yeah, yeah, please. Want that so bad.”
Aether rubs at Dew’s belly, nosing along his shoulder.
“Gunna knock you up so good. Maybe keep you knocked up forever, keep you nice and full of my kits so everyone will know you belong to me.”
“You gunna let me make you a mommy? Is that what you want?”
Dew looks like he’s about to cry.
“Oh Satan, please. Yes. Aether please make me a mommy.”
Aether gropes over Dew’s little tits.
“Can’t wait for these to grow. Get so full of milk it’ll spill out of you.” He flicks over his nipples. “Can’t wait to watch them get full and fat as your belly does the same.”
Dew has tears spilling from his eyes as he gargles and incoherent word. Aether moves him, pinning him on his back with his knees pressed into his chest.
“You’ll look so pretty carrying a litter of my kits. Fuck, I’m gunna stuff you so full, breed you so good it’ll take the first time but I’ll keep fucking you just incase.”
Dew does nothing but cry and nod, too far gone to do anything but silently beg.
i just spent like a whole 10 minutes thinking about it but pls could i request a dracopia fic with 22 and a lil bit of 28? Maybe a bit spicy but im just thinking about the blood tbh lolthank youu sm!
lil 900 word drabble with food ol’ dracopia. violence, blood, and a lil spice below the cut!
You’re on your knees in front of him, your hard gaze on the floor at his feet. Copia loves to toy with you, to push you until you are nothing more than his plaything. Your nails dig into your knees as he starts to circle you, his shoes tapping on the marble floor, filling the silence between you. You don’t dare look up at him but you know that he must be grinning from ear to ear, amused by your obedience. His leather glove rests on your shoulder and he gives it a hard squeeze. There is no comfort in his touch, only control.
“We will be trying something different today, my pet.” His voice is smooth and his hand reaches for your chin, grabbing it harshly and forces you to look up at him. The moment you look up at him, you know you’ve lost the game. You swallow thickly, lip quivering from the hungry look in his mismatched eyes. “No need to worry, tesoro. If you do exactly what I want from you, there will be no punishment — only a reward for your good behavior.” Copia’s lips quirk into a cruel smile as he lifts his hand to smooth some of the hair out of your face. Like the fool you are, you believe him and you lean into his touch.
“You haven’t earned that yet.” He growls and cruelly pulls his hand away, wiping it on his black shirt. You look up at him with wide eyes, your hands settling in your lap while waiting for his instruction. Copia loves to make you wait, to lock his eyes with yours and keep quiet until the unease takes you over and you find yourself begging him for orders. He doesn’t make you wait long, instead taking a few steps away from you and resting his hand behind his back. “You will help me with my meal, pet. You’ll hold them down while I feed. You will make sure I am sated.”
You nod, knowing better than to speak to him. He gives you a sinisterly warm smile and it makes a flash of heat rush to your cheeks. Copia takes his time turning on heel and leaving you alone in the room to fetch his snack. You slowly bring yourself to your feet as his orders start to sink in. You’ve seen him feed on yourself and others before but you’ve never taken part in it like this. He is testing you and you feel honored but the idea of helping him take so much from another person doesn’t sit well in your stomach.
Your thoughts are interrupted by Copia returning, a mischievous glint in his eyes while holding a man up by his shirt. He looks weak, his shirt torn and his hair messy, his head hanging low before he’s able to lift it to offer you a haunting grimace. Copia shoves him in front of you, his expression changing to the cruel, twisted creature that you’re so used to. Fear takes hold again and you’re quick to obey, grabbing the man, who puts up no fight, and bracing his arms behind his back.
Copia strikes with inhuman speed, his fangs sinking into the man’s neck. He screams in response, his arms jerking and you try your damndest to keep a tight hold of his wrists. Suddenly, Copia presses in further, his fangs sinking deeper and deeper. His back is forced against your chest and you let go of his wrists only to wrap your arms around him to keep his arms by his sides. Your eyes flicker to Copia and you realize he’s been watching you this whole time.
He winks at you before he tears a chunk of flesh out of the man’s neck. Blood stains your clothes and you stumble as the man flails, a gurgling scream ripping from his lips. Copia latches on to him again and soon the man is quiet. You feel his fingertips on you, his hand trailing up your waist to your chest to then tangle in your hair as he keeps feeding. Your arms start to grow weak from holding the man and your knees wobble from Copia’s touch, always weak for it. He seems to sense this, shoving the body between the two of you to the ground causing a quick moment of panic and fear in you.
He was too strong, you couldn’t have possibly kept the body upright, could you? Was he sated? You failed. You failed the one thing he asked of you and —
Your thoughts are interrupted by Copia’s blood-stained lips crashing against yours. The kiss is hungry and possessive, and you melt right into it once it registers that you’re not in trouble. A gift. Copia is giving you a gift. You groan as he tugs at your hair even harder, your eyes squeezing shut while you savor the taste of him. He pulls away from the kiss, a soft smile on his face.
“You did well, pet.” Copia pats you on the cheek, though there is nothing comforting about the touch. “Clean this mess up.” He gestures to the body on the marble floor between the two of you then offers one more pat, this time on the shoulder, before leaving you alone.
You look down at yourself, your already tattered clothes now covered in blood but that doesn’t keep the dumb smile off your face.
(Because I just love the way you write him so confident and experienced yet so very careful 🥹)
🍑🍑Kinktober - Day 15🍑🍑
Here is your double-header booty business my lovely, big-brained Anon!
(also, I'm imagining Secondo's room between Primo's and Terzo's and he's just suffering, with a pillow over his ears while all of this is happening.)
I hope you like it!
“Dewdrop has been helping you?” Primo asks, setting the nearly spent match to the last candle. Once the wick lights, he snuffs out the match with a flick of his wrist and tosses it into the ceramic dish with the rest of its charred comrades.
“Yes, Papa,” Primo shoots you a look and you smile, biting your lip, “Yes, Primo.”
The room is bathed in a warm glow - the fire burns low and slow, the candles scented of beeswax and lavender are arranged in neat little trios and quartets around the room. You lay on the bed, wearing naught but Primo’s silken bathrobe - it’s too big and too luxurious and you can’t bring yourself to take it off.
You fiddle with the tie around your waist, your eyes wandering back up to Primo as he readies the room, “You’re sure you want to do this?” you ask.
Primo pauses, “It is not I who should be second-guessing the evening’s activities, my love.”
My love.
A blush creeps up your chest and you’re grinning, again, “I’m sure. I’m ready.”
Primo smiles and nods, “Good.”
Down the hall, an entirely different scenario unfolds as Copia pushes Terzo onto the bed, “I am entirely sick of your little slip-ups at business meetings.”
“Oh?” Terzo smirks, crawling back towards the pillows. Copia shakes his head and growls, grabbing Terzo by the ankles and pulling him back, “What-ever do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
Copia pulls Terzo up by his shirt collar, lips inches from each other, hot, angry breaths teasing their mouths, “Tell me,” Terzo nips at Copia and Copia pushes Terzo back down, “I am Papa.”
“Not to me,” Terzo says, he’s playing with fire and he’s delighted to see it absolutely-fucking-blazing in Copia’s eyes, “You are my Cardinal and you always, always,” Copia’s eyes widen, “Will be.”
Copia spits in his hand and Terzo smiles.
In Primo’s room, he gazes down at you, on his knees, between your legs, he waits, “You are sure, my darling?” he asks again, “You may stop anytime you want.”
“I’ll be fine,” you reassure him and he arches an eyebrow, “I’ll tell you if I’m uncomfortable.”
“We are going to be taking this slow, si?” he says, hands on your knees, “Savoring everything; even the caution, we will revel in, yes?” you nod and he does too, “What have you found in your evenings with Dewdrop?”
“That I want it,” you smirk and Primo gives you a grin as he leans over, procuring a bottle of lube from the nightstand; there is an array of bottles and plugs, vibrators and toys there. Primo returns to his spot between your legs and waits for a true answer, “That I like it. All the tricks he’s taught me, all the lessons have only confirmed one thing. That I like it. A lot. And,” you take a deep breath as Primo takes his slickened fingers and caresses your asshole, “I want you. There.”
Primo pushes one, long finger into your ass and your mouth hangs open. His other hand rests on your belly, thumb teasing your clit, he smiles, “Then you will have me.”
Copia slams his hips against Terzo’s ass - each time he makes the connection - Terzo punches out a frustratingly happy groan. Copia pushes Terzo’s back down, arching it and exposing him to more of his length, “Yes,” Terzo breathes, “yes. Yes. Yes.”
Copia growls, no - he roars - reaching down and taking two fistfuls of that black, thick hair on Terzo’s head and pulling him up against him, “I am not your Cardinale anymore.”
“Yes… you… are,” Terzo’s words are sharp and punctuated by the snap of Copia’s hips, “You… will… always… be.”
“I am your Papa,” Copia hisses, hair falling forward, sweat soaking at his temples; his mouth on Terzo’s ear, “Your crown is mine. Your throne belongs to me. Your flock… they bow to me.”
Copia throws Terzo back down on the bed and Terzo flops overs, sliding back up against the pillows - Copia follows, “But they still,” Terzo is jolted as Copia spreads his legs and pushes back into him, “They still worship me.”
“Good, girl,” Primo coos, your lungs deflated as you adjust to the size of his head seated just inside of you. His big, warm hands rest on your thighs as he gazes down at you; his thumb draws circles on your thigh, “You are doing so, so well.”
You’ve been planning this for months - the logistics of anal with Primo was not to be taken lightly. But no amount of training with Dew, no amount of fingering or fucking the fire ghoul could prepare you for Primo. The excitement alone, the thrill of it has you trembling. But already you’re so full, so tight, “Good,” you groan.
“You must breathe, my blossom,” Primo says and you exhale, your body relaxing and he nods, “There, there,” he lets out a groan and pushes in a whisper further, “you are doing so well.”
“More,” you manage to say and Primo nods, focusing on your face - watching your eyes widen and your jaw go slack - as he pushes into you, “isthatthewholething?” you gasp.
Primo smiles and shakes his head, “No, my dove. Not even close.”
“Thank you, Satan.”
“Fuck you,” Copia spits, Terzo’s mouth hanging open though he still smiles as Copia fucks him. Hard.
“Oh, you are,” Terzo laughs, hanging pressing his hands against the wall, grinding down onto Copia’s cock, “You are so, so good my Cardinale.”
You’re coming.
Hard.
Harder than you’ve ever done before - Primo is seated fully, completely, blindingly inside of you. His hands hang onto your waist as you shake and squirt and sob, “Brava, my goddess,” Primo says, frustratingly calm, cool and collected - he grins down at you, eyes sparkling as his thumb rolls lazily around your clit; bringing you down slowly.
You relax once more, eyes closed as you sink into the silken sheets and soft pillows, sweat beading on your chest and forehead, “My god.”
Primo rasps a chuckle, “I do not think He is involved in this.”
“Probably not,” you huff out a laugh.
Primo rubs your belly and a satisfied rumbling of an exhale as he feels himself inside of you, “ome siamo carine.”
“Primo?” you finally open your eyes and grin up at him; your brain firing once more, muscles and nerves alight and back in your control. You hook a finger at him and he leans down - the movement makes you gasp - the delicious ache of stretching around him makes your mouth water - he puts his hands on either side of your head and kisses you, “my Papa?”
“Yes, my love?”
“Fuck me.”
Primo smirks, shaking his head, “Not tonight,” you whine and Primo silences you with a slow roll of his hips, “You will not be fucked like you are wanting - like this - for a long time.”
“Something-something, ah-ah-ah,” you gasp as Primo slides out and pushes back in, “Marathons and sprints.”
“Si,” Primo smiles, “Something like that,” his head falls a bit, eyes closed as he rolls his hips, “You are so tight, amore,” his breath is no longer steady and sure, “You take me so well but you are so t-tight,” he lets out a deep, low groan and you can feel his control waning as his cock pulses inside of you; you can feel each heartbeat. Primo nuzzles into your neck, each movement - whether it is intentional or not - sends shockwaves to your toes, makes your eyes roll and goosebumps prickle up your spine.
“Come,” you whisper in Primo’s ear, “Come in me,” you run your hands across his back, “I want to feel it.”
Copia grips Terzo’s cock in one and, his other leaving bruises on his thigh as he holds him close; he fucks him wildly - there is not rhythm nor pace. His breath burns in his lungs and his hair mars his vision; damp with sweat and falling forward. Terzo is just as undone - no longer does he spout off his bullshit; his mouth hangs open, hardly able to breath as Copia fucks him and jacks his cock. Terzo is covered in his own cum - Copia’s anger, the delicious dominance - has him blinded with orgasm.
“Say it,” Copia growls.
Terzo mewls, “No.”
Copia rams himself into Terzo so hard it takes even his breath away, “Say. It.”
Terzo looks up at Copia and smiles, “Cardinal.”
Primo grinds into you; refusing to pull out anymore than he needs to - your nearly unending orgasms enough as your body milks him. You are silent and so is he, staring at each other, speechless as you breathe through each, delicious pump of his cock. Primo’s thighs tremble against yours as he comes - cock too big to let a single drop slip out as he fills you up. Primo wraps his arms around you, fingers tangling in your hair, his other hand gripping your waist. You cling to him, your body shivering - heat radiating from his cock to each, electrified nerve end; love and adrenaline pumping through your veins.
“My Papa,” you hum, happily as he stills.
“My love,” he returns, lips against your neck, “You did well.”
“We’re done?” you whine and Primo lifts his head, eyebrow cocked.
“You will need to rest.”
“There’s more of me, for you,” you say, and a slow, lascivious smile spreads across Primo’s face, his hand sliding between you, two fingers slipping into you pussy, “And… oh-oh,” your breath hitches as Primo adds another finger; all of you stretched now, “She is ready for a few… oh, fuck… sprints.”
Primo pulls away and then, sits up, pulling his cock out and you let out a long whimper as he slides off the bed, “Come, my petal,” he holds out his hand and you sigh, scooting to the edge of the bed and sitting up, “A hot bath.”
“And then?” you ask, slipping your hand into his.
He grins, “I will see to your sprinting.”
Copia flops down next to Terzo - both of them huffing and puffing - Terzo grins and gazes at Copia. He gives him a gentle elbow and Copia flops a lazy slap onto Terzo’s chest, “My Papa,” Terzo says, catching Copia’s hand and kissing the back of it.
“Oh, you are saying it now,” Copia scoffs though a sleepy smile spreads across his face.
Terzo rolls onto his side, kissing Copia’s chest, “Of course… you know I was always saying it. I just know that if I call you by the old name I will most definitely get laid.”
“You need only ask,” Copia says, throwing an arm over his eyes, sleep creeping up faster than he’d like to admit.
“Ah, no,” Terzo says, his lips on Copia’s nipple - Copia’s cock pumping back to life, “I do not get fucked like that when I call you Papa.”
Secondo x F! Reader - lap sitting, c-warming, somewhat dominant Secondo, graphic descriptions, p in v, orgasm, breeding kink
Very short smut I wrote at work for @writingjourney because that’s how I choose to live my life.
Secondo’s pen scratches on the surface of the document, making fine lines as he signs off on another purchase for the preservation department. His unoccupied hand flexes at your waist, and you do your best to not utter a peep. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes closed with the strain of not moving as you sit on his lap. Secondo moves slightly in his chair and you bite your lip as a whimper threatens to spill from your throat. His cock is hard and thick inside you, pulsing and kissing every inch of your walls which quiver around him with the effort not to move. How desperately you want to fuck yourself on him, bounce on his cock until your body is filled with only the sensation of your Papa and his love.
Secondo appears outwardly unaffected. You don’t dare turn around in case you break his firm ‘suggestion’ that you stay very still and be very good. “The reward will be great, dolcezza,” he had murmured hotly in your ear when you arrived in his office that morning.
Easier said than done. Your thighs are burning, the position becoming uncomfortable and the sensation of being filled so deeply and not able to do anything about it driving you mad. His thighs twitch underneath you, just a small movement, but it’s enough to send fireworks up your spine.
Secondo’s breathing changes, just so, little puffs of air in your ear although his pen never falters as he moves from paper to paper. You shift slightly, just to relieve some pressure, and the man grunts. Otherwise, he says nothing, and your eyes narrow in interest. You flex your pussy, squeezing his cock, and you hear his breath catch.
“Amore,” his low voice warns, dark and almost breathless.
You return to your almost statue-like position, although you’re smiling, and you finally let out a little moan, soft and begging. Secondo’s pen drops and his arms lock around your waist, a hand splayed on your stomach as he drags you with him, his back pressed hard into his chair as his hips dig into yours. He’s cumming, panting growls spilling from his lips as he fills you, and you keen, the feeling nearly overwhelming you. Secondo holds onto you with a nearly vice-like grip, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm, little circling thrusts hitting you in all the right places and pushing his seed deeper inside as if to brand you with it.
Finally he stills, and you rest against his chest, both of you breathing heavily. You feel Secondo drop a kiss to your neck before he adjusts you both. He hisses with overstimulation, yet doesn’t remove you from his lap, content to pick his pen back up and continue working. You sit a little stunned, feeling Secondo’s cum slide down your thighs and onto his, although the man doesn’t make a move other than to grab another document.
You go to speak and he shushes you gently, pressing another kiss to your cheek. The thumb of the hand at your waist rubs at the skin of your lower belly. “Be my brava ragazza,” he says.
Big boy quintosis sandwich. How do you think that would go? :)
taking my text tangents and using them against me i see
mountain has a dick and a cunt today. you know, just so he can be filled up that much more
"Doing so well for us, little clover," Omega purrs in his ear.
"He takes magick so well, doesn't he?" Aether agrees. He runs a hand down the side of Mountain’s cheek, damp from stray tears and sloppy kisses. The earth ghoul’s eyes track imaginary patterns behind lidded eyes, gaze fixed somewhere in the middle distance of nothingness. The rest of him is limp, slack under the two quintessence ghoul’s hands. Dropped as deep as he can get, oh so sensitive and pliable.
Omega ruts a little where he’s buried deep in Mountain’s ass, smirking at the unbidden whine it earns him from his perpetually slackened mouth. Omega nibbles and sucks at his earlobe, pulling the breathiest of little uh uh uh’s from those drool coated lips.
“Just the prettiest plaything.” Mountain groans louder at that, ruddy cock twitching between his legs.
“Yes, darling, you are. Not a thought in that beautiful head, hm?” Aether playfully presses a fingertip in the middle of his forehead, letting a tiny spark grace the end of the motion. Mountain goes cross-eyed and bucks against Omega, head lolling back onto his shoulder uselessly.
“Fill him up, starlight.” The older ghoul pets at Mountain’s folds, wet with slick and as flushed as the head of his cock. “Satanas he’s wet.”
“Always is, for this.” Aether’s voice is fond underneath the jest. It’s true, what he claims—Mountain always drips for him with quintessence running through his veins. And, well, he couldn’t help it if he tried. “Come now, sunflower, let me see those eyes.”
Mountain slowly lifts his heavy head. His eyelids flutter as he struggles to open them, and keep them open, gaze flicking about Aether’s face as he attempts to focus. With difficulty, and a few frustrated whines, he fixes emerald-turned-ultraviolet eyes on Aether’s own.
“There he is,” Aether coos. “Still so obedient.” He lines up the wide head of his cock just below where his sex starts to split, running it along his damp cunt with a groan. “Keep ‘em open, darling.” He teases Mountain’s entrance now, so close to sticking it in. His skinny chest heaves as he uses what little brain power he has left to keep focus, do as he’s told.
“That’s it,” Aether praises. The head of his cock starts to slip inside, stretching Mountain even wider. Omega groans when he feels the ridge of it slide against the base of his own cock, even through the barrier of Mountain’s body.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Omega echos. Aether watches the earth ghoul’s face expectantly as he continues to press in. He lowers his voice to a whisper, leaning in close. Mountain’s cock kicks in anticipation, nearly slapping against Aether’s stomach. He can see how Mountain’s mouth waters too, a line of drool threatening to spill down his chin. It will eventually, of course, gone as he is.
“Now let’s see them roll allll the way back.” Aether thrusts all the way in, humming contently as Mountain’s eyes roll back into his skull. A deep rumbling groan forces its way out of his chest as he’s made to take them both. He’s simultaneously splitting open and being filled as full as he possibly can be, pressed between both solid quintessence ghouls like nothing more than a delightfully noisy toy.
And noisy he is, panting, huffing, sobbing, and whining as Aether bottoms out and presses close, his and Omega’s hands quickly beginning to roam all over his freckled skin.
The glob of precum smearing into Aether’s happy trail is all the warning either of them get before Mountain goes rigid between them, cock growing impossibly harder before he’s spilling over with a garbled cry. Thick ropes of it spurt onto his stomach and dribble down into the opening of his cunt.
“Poor thing,” Omega tuts. He gives a generous thrust—just one, in and out—without waiting for Mountain’s cock to stop twitching. The earth ghoul chokes on his inhale, fresh tears spilling down flushed cheeks. “He’s going to be such a mess when we’re done with him.”
Nice little MountainDew I wrote that got me out of a writing slump. For @forlorn-crows , because of your kind tags on my last Mountain fic.
MDNI
~1900
tags: water Dew, virgin Dew, handjob, alot of praise, Mountain is absolutely whipped, nice mention of a little aftercare
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Freshly summoned Dew has a quiet movie night with Mountain, and lets all pretend that he's never done anything before. A problem arrises, and good boy Mount has to help him.
Below for your consumption.
It was just supposed to be movie night, a welcoming night so to speak with some snacks and lighthearted conversation. Mountain wanted a relaxed moment with the new summon. But things went sideways halfway through watching Nemo of all things.
Dew had started feeling a weird heat pooling in his stomach. Before long, the slight pressure from the throw pillow on his lap was becoming excruciating. He sat there, with a pit of worry blooming deep in his chest, before finding the courage to raise the pillow a little. He finds a tent in his sweatpants with a small, darkening wet spot. The hot ache occupying his midsection combined with whatever this was made him feel like he was dying.
He was apparently staring for too long, because Mountain had to interrupt his non-attention.
“Something wrong?” Mountain’s words may as well be cracks of thunder, they spooked him and he stupidly jammed the pillow into his lap to hide his problem. It visibly makes him wince, which doesnt help Mountain’s brewing suspicions.
“Nothing!” He says, too quickly, that it was definitely unusual. Mountain looks at him with those obnoxiously kind, green eyes, a stare that wasn't going to let Dew avoid confessing his problem. Dew was very new to life topside, he was fresh, but Mountain had already taken a liking to him. He could read him pretty well and had learned most of his tells.
“It's written all over your face Dew, come on. You’re new, you couldn't have run into too many problems yet, I can guarantee that I’ve dealt with whatever it is,”
The pleading and genuine concern was making things more difficult for Dew. His dick was really aching and he didn't know why, or how to fix it, how to make himself feel better. For all he knew, he could be dying, he had never dealt with this in the pit. Maybe something went wrong during his summoning, maybe his vessel was defective. Regardless, something was very, very wrong.
Mountain pauses the movie and moves to face Dew, again asking what's wrong. His undivided attention makes Dew’s face hold a bright shade of red, hot shame working down his spine. He tries to curl in on himself further but ends up pushing the pillow down again. The harsh friction makes tears pool in the corners of his eyes.
Mountain can smell his distress, astringent and bitter. He uses a finger to raise his chin up to bring them face to face. He’s left staring at a pair of eyes screwed tight.
“Bug?” Dew’s breath hitches. The endearing nickname was the final nail in the coffin.
Dew finally lets the words out with a whine, “It really hurts,”
“What does?” As far as he’s noticed, nothing had happened to Dew in recent days, and definitely nothing happened in the two hours they’ve been hanging out. He couldn't drum up a moment where he could’ve gotten hurt.
Dew doesn't even really know what’s hurting, he cant really explain it, so his only option is to show Mountain. Once he moves the pillow, Mountain knows exactly why Dew is hurting.
“Oh…” He swears he tried to keep his voice neutral so as to not alarm Dew, but he failed miserably. If anything, the way he said it further convinced Dew that something about this was bad, that it would be hard to fix.
“What do you mean oh?! You have to help me. I think I fucked up Mountain.” A new scent quickly invades Mountain’s senses, it reeks of burnt wood and venom— fear. His brain is quickly wiped clean of any joke, realizing that Dew really has no clue what’s happening.
“Calm down Dew, you’re perfectly fine,”
“How am I possibly fine?” The tears have started to fall against his rosy cheeks, leaving trails down to his jaw then neck.
“You’ve really never…?” Mountain desperately needs the full picture, needs Dew to confirm his suspicions. Dew shakes his head, messily wiping off tears that wont stop falling.
“I know how to fix this,” Its Mountains turn to blush. He’s worried that he’s taking advantage of Dew in such an unknowledgeable state, but he’d be lying to himself if he said that this didn't make him throb in his own pants. The chance to relieve him, to teach him for the first time. The notion turned him into a puddle.
He cradles Dew’s face, dragging his thumb across the tear streaked cheek. The warmth makes Dew loosen his eyes a bit, it takes him off the edge just enough so he can breathe.
“You need to tell me if anything feels worse ok? Really Dew.” Dew sighs, hopeful for relief.
“Ok,” Its a quick whisper, he follows it up with a nod just to make sure. His eyes are still shut, he doesn’t know what the cure is and he definitely doesn't know what Mountain is about to do. So he waits patiently, waits for whatever is supposed to make him feel better.
What he doesn't expect is his shirt being lifted off and a new pressure surrounding his cock. The sudden contact makes him hiss. His eyes shoot open to see Mountain’s eyes locked on his crotch with his large hand palming over it.
Pain floats around in his mind, he’s sensitive. He didn't think the pain could get worse, but it did. And it was torture. But it was steadily being replaced by a comforting warmth the more Mountain kneaded at him, so he didnt say stop.
“I’ll show you Dew, how to make yourself feel good,” He drags a thumb over the larger wet spot, slowly, right over the tip, making a point to press down on where he thinks the slit is. Dew jolts and reaches for the offending hand, clamping around his wrist.
“—feels like you’re lighting me on fire. Hurts.”
“Sorry,” He doesn't mean to tease, not now, but he just can't help it. It's built into him like his magic. It's stronger than second nature. He studies Dew’s face when he goes back to gentle touches. Takes in how his jaw has gone slack, how his pale blue eyes watch on with awe while Mountain touches him.
He gives one last tender squeeze before gently wiggling his arm out of Dew’s grasp. He hooks a finger into Dew’s sweatpants and works it down to his mid thigh, just enough to get it out of the way. Just enough to catch a glimpse of the offending member.
He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't what he saw— a heavy cock that bounced against his stomach right under his belly button, leaking pre onto his little happy trail. Its nicely thick and long enough that the head would sit nicely in his throat if he got the chance to wrap his lips around Dew.
“I’ll teach you everything Dew. You just have to let me.” He wraps his hand around Dew’s cock and he feels it twitch, kicking against his hand. As well endowed as Dew is, he looks embarrassingly small in Mountain’s grasp. He wants to make a remark, make Dew blush even more by telling him just how small he is, but he tucks that fantasy away, for now. Dew’s cock is so red that it's almost purple, he understands then, why he shed tears.
“It’s so much Mount,”
“Give it time Dew.”
He starts to stroke him, root to tip, lightly gliding over the head and Dew yelps each time. Soon, the drag of his hand fills the room with wet noises. The only other noise is a stream of ‘Ah, Ah, Ah’ falling from the little ghouls mouth.
“Your body already knows what to do, bug, look at how wet you are,” Dew moans, high and feminine. His eyes catch on his slicked thighs and hips, noticing how he they shine with the light dim light of the tv. Mountain's brain is enamored by how he looks like a star as he comes apart in his hands, by how pretty Dew sounds.
The previously overwhelming sensation has bled into indescribable pleasure, Mountain is towing Dew back from the thin line between pleasure and pain. With the relief, he starts to relax, his muscles go numb.
The earth ghoul recites a silent prayer to whatever is out there. He prays that he’ll be the only one to ever hear his siren sing, that Dew will be his— that Dew would let himself be his.
The easiest support is against Mountain’s chest, so he uses it, leaning against the supple flesh while Mountain snakes his hand up onto the nape of his neck, dragging his nails over his scalp. He holds Dew close, relishes in his warm breath against him.
Dew starts to roll his hips, jerky and uncoordinated, until he finds a rhythm. He thrusts up to meet the tight fist around him while Mountain uses his finger to pet at the sensitive spot under the head.
“Good Dew, take what you want,” Mountain watches as even more slick drips out of Dew, it quickly reminds him of his soft spot for water ghouls.
Dew’s rhythm starts to falter and the muscles in his toned thighs start to twitch. Mountain can see it, hell he can damn near taste it, Dew was close.
A tightness forms deep in Dew's stomach, he’s about to have his first orgasm, ever. And the best part? He doesn't even know it.
“Mountain, what is this? Its- Mount its…” He’s been reduced to a mumbling mess, devoid of any coherent thought thanks to Mountain’s ministrations. All he can do is cling to Mountain like he's his only chance at salvation, which in this moment, he really is.
“Just let it happen Dew, let go for me.”
Mountain tightens his hand and jerks him off faster, twisting when he gets to the tip and rubbing his palm into the head to polish it for good measure. He’s trying his hardest to snap the wound up band in Dew.
Dew cums without a sound, save for the yelp of him choking on his own breath. He keeps nuzzling his face into the column of Mountain’s neck, grazing his fangs over the tender flesh. All he can smell is his earthy scent, laced with pine and lavender.
He has an unexplainable urge to bite, he wants to sink his teeth in, but he clamps down on his own lip instead. A tinge of copper hits his tongue as he breaks skin. His fingers stay wound up tight in the earth ghoul’s shirt, feeling like he would drift away without the tether.
Mountain feels like luck is raining down on him as he gets to watch the birth of something he can only describe as celestial. He basks in the glory of Dew discovering pleasure, realizing desire, he watches as Dew fully becomes one with sin. He cant peel his eyes off of the cum spilled over his fingers, speckled along the small hairs of Dew’s happy trail.
Mountain keeps stroking him, working him through everything gently. Once Dew goes soft, he rests his dick gently against his thigh before wiping his mess off on his sheets. He pulls Dew into his lap, ignoring the stickiness that'll inevitably dry uncomfortably between them, and pulls him tight against his chest while leaning against the headboard. He feels Dew’s heavy breath, the deep rise and fall of his chest against his own.
Dew shifts his leg and unknowingly nudges Mountain’s own throbbing cock, it makes him gasp. But his brain doesn’t recognize it beyond that, it doesnt care about his release. All his brain can think of is the twitching ghoul in his arms.
“Fuck, Mount. Fucking hell.”
“Was that ok? Are you ok?” Mountain expects a simple yes, but Dew’s answer is better than he could’ve imagined.
“Teach me more sometime.” He feels him further sag into his chest, feeling hopeful for the future. He places a kiss against his hairline and catches his scent again. This time, Dew smells like petrichor and a breeze along a shoreline, sweet and light— happiness.
Dew resting on him makes him feel flayed open, like his raw nerves are being singed one by one. His brain is draped in the sensation— he can’t imagine a life without it.
They’ll eventually get up and when they do, he’ll run a bath for the both of them. He’ll lay Dew on top of him in the tub with his back to his solid chest. He’ll lean his chin on Dew’s bony shoulder and whisper about how good he was, how this is what he deserves each and every time he ever lays with someone. He’ll pepper the side of his face with soft kisses as he mumbles words of thanks, immensely grateful that Dew trusted him with something so special. They’ll stay till the water runs cold.
i go by chems on here :) my pronouns are she/her and i am 27 years old. my blog is STRICTLY MDNI/MDNF! please and thank u. anyway, come talk to me about ghost and movies and anything you would like hehe.
fic list
black light guides you /status: complete, multi-chapter /pairing: resurrected!terzo x female oc
a perpetual rise / status: ongoing, sequel to black light guides you, multi-chapter / pairing: resurrected!terzo x female oc
burn with me /status: ongoing, multi-chapter / pairing: dracopia x female oc
cirice /status: one-shot, complete / vampire!papa emeritus iii x female!reader
the sads / status: one-shot, complete / papa emeritus iv x gender neutral reader (hurt/comfort)
restroom detour / status: one-shot, complete, part of the pinnacle lounge series / cardinal copia x female!reader
kazoo comfort / status: one-shot, complete / papa emeritus iii x gender neutral reader (hurt/comfort/angst/fluff?)
la bella luna / status: complete, part of the pinnacle lounge series / papa emeritus ii x female!reader
somethin' spooky / status: one-shot, complete / papa emeritus iv x female!reader
the rose / status: one-shot, complete / papa emeritus iii (angst and humor)
upiór / status: complete, multi-chapter / papa emeritus iii x female!reader, cardinal copia x female!reader
road rage / status: one-shot / cardinal copia x female!reader
oops / status: one-shot / cardinal copia x succubus!reader
cemetery stroll / status: one-shot / werewolf! papa emeritus ii x female!reader
the wedding guest /status: ones-shot / papa emeritus iii x female!reader
have some sympathy and some taste / status: one-shot / dracopia x female!reader
the cardinal’s cure / status: one-shot / cardinal terzo x female!reader
devotion / status: one-shot / cardinal copia x female!reader
You keep telling yourself that you’re not that drunk, even after nearly tripling over your own feet on your way back to the party from the bathroom. This is the first time you’ve really let yourself partake in the festivities of Papa’s celebrations. They typically occurred after a successful tour or once there’s a new group of converts to be indoctrinated. You typically use these events to meet new people (and maybe gossip a little) but this time you have been dancing and drinking — unwinding after a long week of work.
There are moments where you are sure Secondo’s eyes are on you but it might just be the overconfidence from the alcohol flowing through your veins. The night wears on and the crowd starts to thin out, leaving you and a few stragglers. You decide you’ve had enough fun and start to slip out of the hall — but you stop at Papa to pay your respects. You can see how pink the tips of his ears are and a faint blush is peeking through his face paint. He doesn’t say much, but you think you see his lips quirk into a barely detectable smile.
“Sorella, allow me to walk you to your quarters.” He stands from his seat and quickly slips his arm around your waste. You can hardly respond before he’s already whisked you into the hallway. Papa’s hand starts to drift down your hips and the two of you are gradually pushing in closer and closer to each other. You stumble a bit and he is quick to steady you, using the wall to keep you on your feet as your cheeks flush.
Secondo sways and lingers in front of you and the moment feels too perfect to pass up. Your fingers curl into his robes and you slowly pull him into you. His hands land on the wall beside your head as his lips meet yours —
You groan quietly at the smoky taste of him, pulling him in as close as you can and running your fingers up to his neck. His forehead presses against yours, your mouth dropping open and the kiss deepens. Your arms curl around his neck, your tongues entwining and your eyes falling shut. Secondo’s hands drop to your waist, his fingers tracing your hips as he moans into the kiss.
You pull away only slightly and the two of you are left breathing heavy, your foreheads still against each other and heavy eyes staring into yours. He squeezes your hips and gives another low growl.
“Kiss me again, cara. I could taste you all night.”
