Something that makes me go a bit feral every time I think about it is just how tiny Dew looks in his uniform. Cuz yeah, it's tailored to his body perfectly so of course he's not floating in his clothes. You know what isn't tailored to the ghouls' measurements tho? The masks. I want us all to truly appreciate this, okay?
Look at the other boys and where their chins fall in the masks
Look at Dew's
HE HAS THE TINIEST HEAD.
Look at how tight his mask is laced up compared to Rain's, it's literally laced as tight as it can go. I bet they had to add a BUNCH of padding in it so it doesn't fly off his head with the intense headbanding he does.
Honorable mention to how big the pants look on him vs the other ghouls.
Been thinking about throatfucking and mountaindew lately, where big guy stays buried and jacks himself whilst choking dew.
Maybe throw some Phaeon in there to help dew loosen up (Iām convinced quint ghouls can channel their magic through their dicks and no one can tell me otherwise)
(Also hello, love your fics!)
(hi, THANK YOU).
Using this ask as Kinktober Day 23 - Face Fucking. So, thank you SO SO much for this DELICIOUS image.
almost 1.2k of Mountain/Dew throat fucking. Ft. voyeur(ish) Aeon.
There are tears in Dewās eyes. Heās trying to hide them by keeping his eyes closed, but Mountain can see them. The wetness stuck to those long pale lashes. He tightens his grip in Dewās hair, presses himself a little deeper. Not that he really can. Itās the grind that matters. Dragging the head of his cock against Dewās throat. He canāt go deeperāDew has all of him. Lips pressed tight to Mountainsā pubic bone, drool dripping through his pubic hair and down to his balls.Ā
Dew makes a pathetic little noise. More a gurgle than anything else. Vibrations rolling up over Mountainās cock. Mountain feels himself pulse and Dew winces. He breathes through his nose, strained but steady.Ā
From the other side of the room, Aeon watches. One leg thrown over the other. Leaning back in a chair, a beer from the mini-bar in his hand. He had his turn already. Spilling hot and thick down Dewās throat under the guise of preparation. Quintessence flowing into Dewās ever willing body, loosening muscles. Mountainās pretty sure Dew could have taken him without it. Would have swallowed Mountain down without a second thought.Ā
But that would have been less fun than watching Aeon ease his dick down Dewās throat. Purring to him about how good he was doing. Babying him through it while Aeon fucked his throat hard enough that Dew has to be sore. Dew glared at him the whole time, torn between palming at himself and pretending not to be into the treatment.Ā
Thereās none of that bravado left in him now. His pants are unzipped, hand sliding up and down the wet length of his cock. Mountain watches the way his fingers tighten around the head, the little twist he gives at the end. Dewās spilling pre like a water ghoul, dripping onto his fingers and onto the hotel floor. Mountain tries not to think about the stain itāll leave.Ā
āJust like that, Dew. Stay just like that,ā he purrs. Scratching his fingers against Dewās scalp where he holds him tight.Ā
Dewās eyes flutter open, he looks up at Mountain. His glamor is still up. Dewās weird about it in hotel rooms sometimes, so the eyes that meet Mountainās are blue. Copper in the very middle where Dewās control is slipping just a little. Cracks of himself shining through. His pupils are blown wide. Eyes wet and ringed with tears.Ā
Mountain drags the thumb of his free hand under one of them. Catching wetness against it. Dew blinks back, tries to keep that wetness away.Ā
āHe crying yet?ā Aeon asks from across the room. Mountain glances over at him. Finds Aeon palming at himself. Already hard again.Ā
āAlmost,ā Mountain answers, then turns his attention back to Dew. Back to the wet heat of Dewās throat. Dew shifts and everything constricts. Mountain bites back a loud groan. Fights the urge to just fuck into Dewās throat with abandon. After Aeonās show Mountainās a little hesitant to really give it to the little ghoul beneath him. He doesnāt want to hurt Dew. But seven hells does he want to cum.Ā
Mountain slips his hand down, he curls his palm around Dewās throat. Loose. But it doesnāt matter. Dew shudders as soon as he does it. Eyes starting to roll up. The threat of it enough to send another spurt of pre onto the low-pile carpet.Ā
Mountain grinds in a little again. He can feel himself beneath his palm. Hard as he ever gets. Shifting beneath Dewās skin. He presses down a little and finds he can feel that too. The constriction his own hand creates.Ā
āFuck,ā Mountain holds Dewās gaze as he gives a cursory thrustāsmallābut he feels it. Feels the pressure of his own hand. Feels the way Dewās body gives to him on both sides. Bending to his will. The last dreges ofĀ quintessence making everything more fluid. Dewās relaxed, easy. No tension coiled in any of his muscles. Throat open and slick. Mountain squeezes a little harder and Dew moans. Muffled around Mountainās cock. It ends in a gurgle as he presses down a little more.Ā
Mountain canāt take his eyes off of Dew. Over his hand on Dewās throatāso big it engulfs him from Jaw to collarbone. Dewās hand on his cock stutters, rhyhtm failing.Ā
Dewās still dressed. Mountain realizes belatedly. Dick just hanging out of his jeans where he strokes it. Band-T stained with drool and Aeonās cum.
Dew is crying now. Mouth stretched around Mountainās cock, tears running down his cheeks, eyes glassy as he fucks up into his own fist and Mountain does the same. Fucking into Dewās throat and by extension the pressure of his own hand. Squeezing and releasing when he needs it.Ā
āFuck thatās hot,ā Aeon mutters. Mountain hears the rasp of his zipper, then the sigh of relief as Aeon gets his hand on himself. āWhy didnāt I think of that?āĀ
Mountain doesnāt have an answer. He canāt think about anything except how this feels. Tight and so hot and so wet. He barely has to pull out at all, just little rabbit quick thrusts into Dewās throat, barely anything but it feels like everything. His toes curl in the carpet.Ā
Mountain squeezes a little tighter as he presses forward, constricting around the head of his cock. The pressure makes Dewās eyes roll back in his head. He huffs out one sharp breath through his noise, hot against Mountainās skin, and then Dewās cumming. Painting his jeans, the carpet, his lithe fingers with sticky white ropes.Ā
Mountain outlasts him by seconds. Watching Dewās body shudder, feeling the rhythmic clench of his throat, thatās all it takes before his orgasm is screaming up his spine. Veins going electric. He spills down Dewās throat. Twitching and panting, a snarl ripped from his teeth as he pins Dew to his body.Ā
Mountain lets go as soon as the world starts to clear, and Dew rolls back. Sits down hard on the carpet. He wipes his mouth and surveyās the mess as Mountain turns to try to find some clothes and something to clean Dew up with.Ā
Aeon stands. Cock still hard, fingers wrapped tight around the base. He steps between Dewās legs as Mountain is pulling sweatpants up over his hips.Ā
Heās going to tell Aeon that Dewās had enough, but then Aeon smears the sticky tip of his cock over Dewās swollen lips and Dew smirks at him. Eyes no longer watery or glassy.Ā
āGot one more in you, droplet?ā Aeon asks, smacking the head of his cock against Dewās cheek and leaving a slick smear.Ā
Dew flashes him his teeth. āIāve got more in me than you do.āĀ
Mountain rolls his eyes and retreats to the bed. Heavy-limbed and satisfied. Content to watch the competition. Heās glad for the entertainment. Even if he already knows Dewās going to win.
Dew remembers how much softer everyone was with his when he was a water ghoul. He's always been semi feral, hissing and spitting, but everyone was still softer with him. now as a fire ghoul everyone is so much rougher and he should like it, he should be fine, but he misses the gentle way they'd hold him as a water ghoul. now the only thing he gets is rough treatment but how could he ever say he wants to be taken care of sometimes, like old times.....
Dew's never been good at asking for what he wants. He just takes what he can get. His transition makes it worse. He spends so much of his time during his healing practice snapping and snarling at his pack mates. Resenting every gentle touch because those touches mean pity.
When he comes out of it, and his pack mates don't touch him like that anymore, he just goes with it. They don't cradle him against their chests, or stroke his hair. They keep their hands to themselves unless he initiates something. Which, he usually only does when the longing for touch has reached a boiling point. He leans into rough. Asks for it. Asks for more, and harder, and fuck whatever they'll give him he'll take because they don't willingly give him anything anymore.
And he knows why. Of course he does, Dew's not stupid. He knows he was an asshole. He knows he pushed them all away. Knows that they will just keep doing this until he tells him what he really wants. But he can't.
Can't admit that he still craves those gentle touches. He was just pissed off--overwhelmed. That yes, something fundamental has changed but not this. Not who he is.
He wants someone to card their hands through his hair instead of pull it. Wants a soft kiss between his horns. Wants to be pet, to be held, to be loved and he's never had to ask for it before. And he doesn't want to disappoint anyone.
What if this is what they want? If this is how they like him? If they like him like this better--tough and desperate and begging for the bite of nails into his skin because at least that feels like something. What if he tells them and they laugh at him? What if they say no? What if they never touch him again?
It's easier to live with what he has, than to ask for what he wants and risk losing everything.
this is part one of the polaroid collection, based off of 'picture this'. you can either find the masterlist here, read on ao3, or read below:
āMark them up good,ā Cumulus breathes, moaning pretty when Swiss sucks a nipple between his teeth and nibbles, her other enveloped by his palm. His hands are large, it drives her crazy, but her breasts are larger and spill out on all sides. In most cases heās able to make his partners feel small. Not here. Here, her breasts and her thighs and her tummy make him spin with desire, long to get his mouth on them. She loves the hold she has on him.Ā
āGet them all pretty for the picture. You only have one chance to make it perfect.āĀ
This is untrue. Swiss actually has eight whole tries to get the photo right, and another fresh cartridge of film waiting for him in his bedroom, but he lets it slide, nonetheless. Besides, itās a lot hotter like this: when heās sucking his own name into her skin with his mouth and getting her all ready. Making sure sheās picture-perfect.Ā
āIām trying,ā he says while pressed up against her skin. āMaking my mouth all sore.āĀ
Cumulus sighs, rolls her eyes for dramatic effect and tsks as she looks down into Swissā big brown eyes. Heās already cum twice, once inside of her and the other across her stomach, and they're somehow still flooded with lust and desire, pleading and begging silently to devour her again. She doesnāt know how he does itā¦ Her own clit twitches and throbs at the sight of him, nearly lost in the thin patch of curls painted across his chest, but she tries not to make it too obvious. He can probably feel it where it's buried in the hair on his tummy and making him slick with burning need. If he does, he doesnāt say anything.Ā
āItās your picture,ā she says, much too cool for how heās spitting and drooling over her breasts like sheāll combust if he doesnāt, spreading it thin with his fingers and his tongue until they shine and present themselves exquisitely under her warm bedroom light. āDonāt mess it up.āĀ
She doesnāt mean the cold bite behind her words, of course, but it still makes Swiss work harder nonetheless to make sure the messy āSā heās marked into the top of her breast, just above her nipple, is at least semi-legible for the camera. It sort of is. It looks as if a child had tried to write the letter for the first time with a bleeding marker on wet paperāuneven and bulging at different sectionsāand itās obvious that heās not going to be able to get the rest of his name on her if he wants to keep his erection up. Just to save time he unsheaths a claw and carves his name into her breast with the tip, smiling while she keens with the painful burn and waits for her pale gray skin to bloom with pretty purple lines, all while allowing his right hand to float down between their bodies to tug quickly at his dick.Ā
He looks over his masterpiece, at hickeys old and new, faded greens and yellow and fresh purples and reds. Theyāre gorgeous alongside the various crimson-colored bites he made with his teeth and the tin, pinprick holes he accidentally made with his fangs when he got too carried away sucking on her sensitive nipples. And right on top, standing out like a beacon, is his name.Ā
His name.Ā
Just looking at it on her, claiming her, telling anyone who sees her who she really belongs to, makes him throb and his balls clench up. He drops his forehead right into the valley between them and groans as he circles his palm over his sensitive head and thumbs at the tip.Ā
Cumulus arches her back to bring him back to herāforce him back into the present. He unhinges his jaw and bites into her flesh, leaving behind an angry red print of his teeth before angling his face back up towards her own. Heās pained with desire.Ā
āNeed to fuck them. Let me fuck them?āĀ
Cumulus huffs out a laugh from her nose, one of her hands wrapping around one of his horns, the other in the back of his curls, forcing him down, back towards where he should be. She nods and whispers when he whines all high and pretty, āIām yours, baby. Use me.āĀ
He doesnāt need much more convincing than that.Ā
He crawls up and straddles the ghoulette with his last ounce of self control, inching forward until heās perched right over her chest. His dick sits heavy between the valley of her breasts and he experimentally thrusts his hips forward, testing the feeling of her tacky skin and the ease of the slide. Itās not nearly enough and he leans forward over where he sits, drools a thick line of saliva down and over his cock, lets it drool into the space where they meet so he can spread it thin with the push of his shaft through the mess.Ā
āHold āem, Lus,ā he says, breathless, and leans down to plant his hands down on either side of his head. āMake āem all tight for me.āĀ
He pushes his hips forward while she places her manicured hands on either side of her tits and forces them together, smooshing them over his dick until they create a tight pocket for him to fuck. Immediately the pressure makes him groan and he pulls back, thrusting forward hard and pointed until the tip of his dick kisses the bottom of her chin and makes her bite her lip to stifle a groan.Ā
At first he tries to go slow. He tries to savor the moment and memorize the sight of his cock disappearing and appearing between her gorgeous rack thatās branded with his own name, but then the ghoulette begins to talk, spit honey-laced venom, and he loses his mind a little bit.Ā
āYou like them? Arenāt they pretty?āĀ
Her voice sounds smooth like honey. Burns like smoldering coals deep in his core.Ā
āAll pretty for you, only you. Gonna be even prettier when you cum all over them. Really claim them. Make them all yours.āĀ
He whines, drops forward to bury his nose in her hair just above her short horns and breathes her scent in until heās high on it and his head spins. His hips move on their own accord, sliding quicker and faster between the space made just for him in a mixture of his own spit and his pre that leaks from him with each desperate thrust. The last ā-ssā of his name disappears behind his dickhead with every slide. He pants, whines at the sight, and Cumulus never stops talking.Ā
āYou wanna cum? Gonna cum on these pretty tits? Get them all creamy? Think of how jealous everyone will be. When they see your picture. Theyāre all gonna want what you have here. Right now.ā
His voice catches in his throat. He thrusts forward so hard he hits the bottom of her chin again and forces her to shut up. She gasps, rolls it over into a pretty laugh that makes his stomach flip and his balls tighten up dangerously.Ā
āYeah, cāmon, Swissypooā¦ Go ahead, make them pretty. Make that flash go off so you wonāt ever forget what you did here tonight.āĀ
He chokes on his tongue as his tummy burns and tightens, coils so hot that he canāt help but fuck her tits so fast that the only choice heās left with is to build and build and build until he nearly caves in on himself, counting on the strength of his arms to hold him up as his balls finally tighten up so tight until they spill over and he cums hard, painting the ghouletteās lips and chin so pretty and obscene despite it being his third orgasm. He spurts all pretty over her skin and paints her like his masterpiece.Ā
Even the ghoulette cannot believe what heās done. She darts her tongue out between her teeth but stops when she tastes him.Ā
It has to stay.Ā
āāLus,ā he breathes out. His voice is nearly lost to the pretty little noises that escape her lips while he spreads his cum thin between her tits. āCan Iāā
āTake itā,ā she says, gazing up into dark brown eyes like sheās never needed anything more in her life. āTake the photo, Swiss.āĀ
The ghoul reaches an arm out and fumbles for the camera. His muscles feel like theyāre buzzing with radio static. When he finds it he clicks the button until it turns on and glows orange, signifying that itās on, raises it up above her to capture her tits and the debauched, bottom half of her face, dragging his hips forward and back through his own mess with smooth thrusts of his hips. Cumulus readjusts her hands and makes sure her painted claws are perfect and framing her nipples between her middle and fourth fingers, spreading around the spit heād let fall from his tongue earlier in miniscule squeezing and groping motions until he tells her to hold still.Ā
āThere,ā he says. His bottom lip gets bitten between his teeth. āDonāt move.āĀ
Her tongue darts outāshe bares her fangs, licks over them with a forked tongue for the camera lens.Ā
Swiss presses his index finger into the button and tells her to smile.Ā
you can click on this button once daily to help palestine and support other causes in the middle east for free. it takes literally 5 seconds and could help save lives so please take the time to click and share this link.
Cw: he/they Phantom, phantom is overwhelmed, brief mention of biting and scratching, taps and squeezes for communication, cg Swiss
It's too hot and all the faces start to swim around him. His suit feels thick and scratchy and it's so loud his ears throb. He doesn't want to be here right now but he has to, the Yule celebration in full swing and all the band ghoul's are expected to be there.
He tries to keep away from the thickest swell of the crowd but people keep moving closer and bumping against him. their scents are all wrong and his stomach twists with nervous energy and his hands shake around the glass he's holding.
Everyone is scattered and he can't find anyone safe to cling to, he can't find a familiar hand to hold. He feels his brain like it's on fire, like every thought he's ever had is running circles around his mind and bouncing off of his skull.
His eyes sting and though he's wearing a mask he's still afraid of anyone seeing his wet eyes and knowing, figuring out he's just not cut out for this job and sending him back to the pit.
A glass breaks and that does it, severs the last of his control and he slams his hands over his ears as hard as he can. His knees start to shake and he tries, he tries so hard to keep himself standing but he wants to be small, wants to curl in on himself so no one can see him.
"Bug?"
He jumps and just barely stops a shriek from ripping out of his mouth. Swiss tilts his head.
"Do you need out?"
He can't find the word but he taps his fingers together once and Swiss nods. He keeps the touch on his shoulders light as he guides him from the crowd and down the hall toward the ghoul wing which was strictly off limits to the visiting Abbey's.
Swiss gets the little ghoul into their bedroom, the soft ghost lights glowing and warm. They make frantic little gasps, almost grunting with the effort to rip the suit off their body.
"I know bug, I'll help. You're doing so good." He undoes the tie and chucks it across the room, the jacket and shirt going next and Swiss decides he hates buttons right now. "Almost done Bichito, almost done."
He starts working on their shoes when Phantom brings their hands up and scratches at their skin like they still feel the fabric on them. Their eyes well with tears and Swiss rips the laces and pulls the shoes off so he can tug their pants down and away as fast as possible.
He grabs Phantom's favorite soft weighted blanket and wraps it around them, letting it settle over their shoulders. They shove their thumb into their mouth and bite so hard Swiss knows it has to hurt.
Swiss pulls his chewy necklace off and gives it to the little ghoul. "Not your fingers, bug."
Phantom chews hard, rocking back and forth under the weight of the blanket and Swiss goes to grab their ear defenders off of their dresser.
When he gets them secured over Phantom's ears he sits on the floor beside them, he doesn't touch, he just waits until Phantom is able to decide what they need.
They keep their eyes shut and Swiss watches their jaw work as they chew on the necklace. The rocking gets a little faster and they clench and unclench their fists repetitively.
When their eyes flicker up to meet Swiss' for just a brief second, he knows he's allowed to move. A silent signal he's learned over time with Phantom.
He keeps his movements slow and predictable, moves in close behind them and wraps his arms tight around their upper body, starting a low purr.
Phantom tenses first, an unhappy growl in their throat and grunts as they pull away just slightly but they settle quickly against the soothing rumble of Swiss' chest.
Swiss rocks with them but he slows it to something relaxed, something calmer. The shakes in their body start to ease off and Swiss smiles, happy to be able to help the little ghoul in such a way.
When their body finally fully relaxes and the vocal stims have mostly stopped, Swiss squeezes their hands.
"One for yes two for no. Pajamas?" Two squeezes. "Ok, up on the bed?" One squeeze.
He lifts them up carefully and settles them up on the bed, tucking the weighted blanket more securly.
"Alone?" Two squeezes. Swiss moves up beside them and the little Quint leans against his chest, tapping until he starts purring again so they can feel it. The ear defenders dig into his chest but he'll deal with it as long as Phantom is comfortable.
He can tell Phantom is worn out, fighting sleep when the little ghoul reaches up and shyly taps Swiss' lips.
"Soother?" They tap once and Swiss leans over to the nightstand to grab one. "There you go, Bichito."
He keeps purring until Phantom drifts off and he presses a soft kiss between their horns. He's proud of them for coming so far, for even being brave enough to try to stick around the party even when they were clearly overwhelmed.
Swiss plans to tell them the next day, to remind them that they are doing so well knowing Phantom tends to be hard on themself after a meltdown. He hums a soft lullaby and adjusts his hold on the sleeping Quint, slowly drifting off himself.
miasma i have been yearning for mean rain and the most well-behaved mountain you have ever seen. (he's on his knees.) will you indulge me? )
oh man rain's real mean you guys :(
(cw for slapping, spitting, a little blood, piss and rough oral. all consensual, dont worry, mountain is SUPER into it)
It's an ache Mountain can't describe that brings him here.
On his knees in Rain's room, fully dressed with his legs spread as far at they can go. He keeps his arms folded together at the small of his back and his eyes forward, watching dust motes float through the beam of silvery light pouring from an open window. The sun had been up when he first knelt, but Rain's space was meant for moonlight.
Mountain doesn't know how long he's been here, truth be told, and it doesn't matter. That ache demands he stays put regardless, forces him to stay still and silent. It makes him wait for something he can't put words to. Makes him yearn, makes him itch in a place he can't quite scratch. It makes him want.
And so, he waits.
And waits.
And waits.
When the door finally creaks open, he thinks it's the holiest of hymns.
Rain slips into the room with a fluid grace Mountain could never hope to replicate. He moves like water, his lithe frame draped in the gauzy fabric of a flowy white top he'd no doubt stolen from Cirrus. It suits him just as much as the skin-tight black pants he's paired with it, as stark a contrast as his dark, loose curls are against his pale skin. Bathed in moonlight, he looks like something out of a dream.
Mountain would worship him always, if he could get away with it. Would lay himself bare for Rain to observe, to inspect. He'd endure agony, ecstacy and everything in between if it meant earning Rain's touch, his attention. If it meant pleasing him however Rain saw fit. He'd give anything, give everything.
Rain closes the door, and does not acknowledge him.
The ache grows.
Mountain doesn't move. Doesn't dare to so much as breathe too loudly, lest Rain become irritated and shove him out the door. He can't risk it, not with the singular sort of need that's been eating at him all day. He listens, though. Tracks Rain's careful footsteps as he makes his way across the room. He's in no rush, ever casual as he clicks on a bedside lamp and rifles through a drawer.
Mountain's cock stirs in the confines of his jeans. He's gone from soft to hard and back again more times than he can count during his endless wait. If he glanced down, there would probably be a stain on the light denim. He couldn't help it, but he knows Rain won't approve.
Hell, that's half the reason he wore these particular jeans.
"How long have you been here?"
The words cut through the silence like a razor, smooth and sharp. Mountain shivers with them, hungry ears finally blessed with the first hint of what he's been craving. He shrugs, eyes still locked on the bedroom door. He can practically hear Rain's eyebrows scooting upwards.
"You don't know?"
Mountain shakes his head. If he had to say, it would be something between five hours and a hundred years. He'd wait a thousand, if Rain asked him to.
Behind him, Rain hums. It's a pondering sound, as though he's wondering whether or not Mountain is worth his precious time. It makes his stomach hurt. He wants to beg Rain to let him stay, wants to plead with him to soothe the ache in his gut. Wants to grovel at his feet until Rain sees fit to relieve him of his need.
But Rain hasn't given permission to speak, so he doesn't.
Again, Mountain waits. Stoic at a statue despite the stiffness in his jeans, the stabbing pain in his knees and the tension in his back. Everything hurts.
He hopes Rain makes it worse.
It's ages before Rain moves again, before his boots thud against the hardwood and the other ghoul reappears in front of him. Mountain keeps his gaze resolutely forward, his eyeline even with Rain's torso. The fabric of his top sways in a nonexistent breeze, more than a few of its buttons popped to expose the creamy skin of his chest. It's speckled with bites and bruises, evidence of what, exactly, he'd been busy doing while Mountain waited his turn.
"Have you been just like this?" His tone gives nothing away. If anything, Rain sounds...bored. "On your knees for me?"
Again, Mountain nods. Rain hums once more, that same sound of almost dismissive contemplation. He brings both hands up, idly twists one of his rings, and the rustle of his shirt brings with it the scent of the lake on a summer evening. It's accompanied by a waft of spiced woodsmoke, and Mountain knows exactly who had been busy fucking up Rain's perfect skin.
"Are you growling?"
Mountain mutes himself immediately - he hadn't even realized he'd started. He didn't mean to, he swears it, but even if he were allowed to speak he knows Rain wouldn't want to hear it. He chews on the inside of his cheek and hopes his remorse is evident in the way his shoulders sag just a hair.
"Let me guess," Rain lilts, reaching out to fiddle with a loose lock of auburn hair by Mountain's ear. Even the ghost of his touch is electric. "You need me."
He makes it sound like a taunt, and Mountain's stomach burns. He nods again, slow and deliberate. Squares his shoulders again before Rain can chide him for his posture. The other ghoul huffs out a sigh.
"How pathetic," he chides, and oh does it sting. "Sitting here for hours when you could have been making yourself useful."
Long fingers cup his jaw and Mountain lets his gaze be guided upward. He finds Rain watching him with mirthless cerulean eyes, his mouth set in a hard line. Mountain gulps even as his cock throbs, and before he can stop himself,
"I'm sorry -"
He hears the slap before he feels it, a sharp backhand that makes his head spin and his chest tight. The sting hits soon enough and Mountain bites his lip, hoping to draw blood that he can offer in penance. Rain grips his chin in that same cruel hand, guides him back, and Mountain can already feel the fuzz creeping into the edges of his mind with the look on his stunning face.
"Lucifer, you're pathetic," Rain scoffs, dragging his other hand through his own stylishly disheveled curls. "And here I thought you were going to be good for me."
I will, Mountain wants to scream. I'll be good, I'll be so good, please -
"I suppose I'll just have to put you in your place."
Mountain can't help the way his eyes slip shut at the merciless tilt to Rain's voice. The one he only uses when he can tell exactly what sort of cruelty Mountain craves, when he wants to belittle and shame. It settles heavy in his gut, makes him just dizzy enough that Rain has to give him a little shake to bring him back.
"Eyes on me," he orders, and it's an easy command to obey. Mountain may be edging towards hazy, but focusing on Rain keeps him grounded enough to maintain his pose. The hand on his jaw threads into his hair instead, grips a nice handful. "Show me your tongue."
Mountain does - of course he does - despite how dry his mouth feels. He opens wide and lets that pink appendage hang down over his chin. Rain's hum carries more weight now, the slightest hint of approval enough to make Mountain throb. Rain yanks him back by the hair, makes him suck air through his nose, and leans over him, eyes sparkling.
"You look thirsty."
Mountain can't hold back the groan that bubbles up in his chest when Rain spits directly onto his tongue.
"Don't you dare swallow," Rain threatens before Mountain can so much as move his tongue. He wasn't going to. He knows better.
It's tempting anyway.
He curls his tongue instead, makes a nice little home for Rain's generous gift. Rain releases his head with a derisive snicker, standing back with his arms crossed.
"I think you enjoyed that a little too much," he admonishes, eyes squarely fixed on the wet spot Mountain can feel on his thigh. Less than an inch from the head of his sore, ignored cock.
He's so hard. Always is, for this. Rain probably won't even let him cum, if experience tells him anything - or maybe he'll make him cum over and over until he's empty and weeping. Either way, the suffering is what matters.
Mountain twitches when the toe of Rain's boot presses into his thigh, a hair's breadth from his throbbing length, and it's work not to swallow the mess on his tongue.
"Someone's excited," he taunts, nudging the swollen ridge of the head less than gently. Mountain gives a fervent nod. "You were messy before I even walked in, weren't you?"
He applies more pressure and Mountain pitches forward just enough to accidentally drool Rain's spit onto his own shirt.
Oh shit.
Rain's next slap is expected, and somehow all the worse for it. Same cheek, same hand. It cracks through the room with a sick echo, and Mountain tastes iron.
"Useless," Rain sneers, unceremoniously shoving two fingers into Mountain's mouth to wrench out a gag. When he pulls them back they're tinted pink, and watching Rain lick up his blood and saliva makes every inch of him sing. "All you're good for is making messes, isn't it?"
Mountain sniffles, eyes wet at the corners, and nods. Rain rolls his eyes.
"Use your words," he says as though Mountain is very stupid. His cock spits against his thigh.
"S-sorry Rain, I didn't -"
"Sorry who?"
Mountain shudders.
"I'm s-sorry, Sir," he breathes, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to make a mess, I -"
"Liar," Rain interrupts, and Mountain gives him a bewildered look. "I know you came here because you want to be a wet, filthy mess."
Mountain can't stop staring up at him. He doesn't want to.
"In fact," Rain croons, reaching for his belt, "I think you want me to make you one."
His intention is clear as crystal, and the moment it settles into Mountain's skin he bites his tongue. He swallows thickly, trying his best not to sway as he watches Rain slip his belt from its loops and toss it aside. Silently, Mountain hopes Rain plans to use it on him later. He grips his own arms tight behind his back while the other ghoul unzips, every inch of him twitchy and quivering in anticipation.
"What do you say?" Rain asks, low and sultry over the splash of his own piss.
Rain's only half hard when he pulls himself out, maybe less, but it doesn't matter - any time he gets to see Rain's cock is a blessing, as far as Mountain is concerned. Rain gives himself a few languid strokes, pushes and pulls his foreskin the way he knows Mountain likes best. Makes him drool. He fattens up so quick, gets nice and stiff right where Mountain can see but can't touch. Anyone else would want to stay soft for this, but Rain?
Well, there are advantages to being a water ghoul.
Rain cants his hips just enough to slap the head against Mountain's cheek once, twice, three times. Enough to leak a little bead of pre and leave a sticky spot behind.
"Say please," he commands. Mountain feels so very dizzy.
"Please," he manages to slur, barely a whisper. Rain snorts.
"Say it properly," he smears the tip over Mountain's lips just because he can, and Mountain's eyes roll back at the scent of him.
"Please, Sir," he breathes, staring up with heavy lidded eyes, "please...please get me wet. Get me messy."
Rain offers an unkind smirk, milks out one more bead of pre that slides onto Mountain's lip. He doesn't lick it up. Hasn't been told he's allowed. Rain pulls back, takes a deep breath, and aims.
"Whore."
The first drops hit Mountain's knee, impossibly hot, and then a perfect golden arc hits him square in the chest. It forces a wave of the deepest sort of shame through him, makes his stomach flip and his balls tighten up. Mountain gasps when it really starts to soak in, and he can feel real tears gathering in his lashes when Rain smiles down at him.
"Th-thank you, Sir," Mountain gasps, fighting every muscle in his core that's trying to make him pitch forward. "Thank you."
Rain hums, pleased, directing the stream wherever he likes until Mountain's shirt is well and truly drenched. He feels like he's burning from the inside out, like his brain is leaking out onto his thigh and soaking into stained denim. He's panting by the time Rain's done, watching in a daze as he pushes out the last few squirts, lets it dribble out to speckle Mountain's thighs.
"Open," he orders, and like the good boy he is, Mountain does.
Rain shoves his still-leaking cock down his throat with no hesitation, and Mountain chokes on it just enough for the tears caught in his lashes to track down his cheeks. Rain purrs, smearing them all over with mean thumbs.
"Gonna put this mouth to good use," he drawls, "and you're gonna take it."
The way he says it is completely at odds with the punishing pace he sets. Brutal thrusts that stab at the back of Mountain's throat, sure to leave a bruise. Every one answers the call of that singular ache, and in no time at all he's floating. Lost in the gross, wet sound of Rain taking his pleasure and the slap of his balls against his chin.
Maybe later Rain will sit on his face and he can well and truly drown.
āLet me in,ā Mountain pleads. His teeth scrape against the side of Auroraās neck, over the muscle that flexes taut and pretty when she tilts her head back against the mattress and sighs with the feeling of him deep, deep inside of her. He breathes hot and sticky against her skin, licking up the salty taste of her sweat that gathers on his tongue and moaning low and growl-like when he drinks up her rich scent, straight from the source. She feels so small when he fucks her like this. When he covers her body completely with his own and makes her feel like a doll. It makes her head spin and her brain go a little fuzzy. Aurora pants with every nip and bite at her skin with sharp, uneven fangs. Sheās covered in red from her thighs to her neck, blushed in red hot heat, flush and red from his hands grabbing and clawing at her skin like he wants to crawl inside and stay there. Lines from blunt claws mark her skin like stripes. Heās more than a little out of his mind.Ā
āOpen up for me,ā he whines, his brow furrowing together tight and pained where it almost meets in the middle. āJust a little more. Youāve gottaā¦āĀ
Aurora opens her mouth to tell him sheās tryingāshe wants him to go deeper, to hit those spots inside that nobodyās been able to reach beforeābut the only noise that slides off her tongue is choked, more of a guttural shout when he punches his hips forward and steals the air from her lungs until theyāre squeezed, burning, and empty. Heās so deep she can feel him in her throat. Somehow, itās still not enough.Ā
If she were to look down sheād see him carving out a space for himself in her tummy. It bulges with every slide inside, makes a pretty little bump just under her belly button, but she canāt possibly look. Not with his mouth attached to the underside of her jaw, licking and sucking and nipping at her skin, but also the sight of his dick, flushed nearly purple and covered in her juices would probably make her core coil impossibly tight and burn hot until she was forced to cum on his cock.Ā
āYou have to let me in,ā he says again and pants open mouthed against the corner of her lips. His tongue darts out to lick at her teeth. Her arms wrap around his back, one of her hands threading up into the hair at the back of his head and pulling tight when he grinds forward, her much smaller body sliding up the bed with every push, relying on the weight of his own body to keep her rooted to one place. āI canāt get it in if you donāt open up for me. Itās ready, you just have to let me inālet me in.āĀ
She doesnāt want to be the one to break it to him that sheās as open as she can possibly be. The tip of his dick kisses her most sensitive parts and makes her nerves scream and her eyes line with tears. She wants him just as badly as he wants her, but it wonāt be possible. Sheās just too small for how large he isāitāll never fit far enough in for him to pop his knot inside of her. No matter how many times he comes to her in the middle of the night or with the rise of the golden sun, asking, begging, pleading to let him knot her until heās on the verge of tears, it will never fit.Ā She canāt even feel the bulge of it when he buries himself as deep as he possibly can, and will never be able to hear the smack of his balls against her ass like he can with Cumulus or Cirrus or anyone else. It will never fit the way he needs it to, and he knows it. No matter how many times he triesāwills it to go further, deeperāit wonāt. Heāll just keep trying until heās overstimulated by his own lust, drowning in a flood of pheromones, and pushed to sobs, eventually thrown over the edge into the most unsatisfying orgasm. Just like heās done so many times beforeā¦ Again, and again, and again.
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