You can call me Golfball! I'm 22 and use they/it pronouns. My inbox and messages are always open but keep in mind I may not always respond right away!
My requests are always open but I do tend to get busy with school and work so it may take me time to finish them. I write for any ships/pairings. I'll also do drawing requests!
I primarily write for the ghouls, but once in a blue moon, the Papas will make an appearance.
You can find my Ao3 here
You can also find all of my writing under #golfball writes
Hello. Long time lurker. First time requester. I love your art soooo much. Would it be okay if I request some MountainRain cuteness? I feel like their ship is so under represented. Thank you for making so much pretty art for me to mentally chew on. It is all tasty in my brain.
*disappears back into the bog*
Wowww So much bog *cough cough* okay okay- TOO MUCH BOG-
I appreciate your words so so much glad to see you come out of the bog. :} Anyways, remember to water your plants everyone!
Good morning I think dew should wrap his hand around rains neck and shove his fingers into his gills while he chokes him. Could pull him around by those sensitive slits too <3 they’re just so tight and right there begging for someone to use!!!!
Alpha used to tease Omega when they were younger.. for funsies (and feeling unable to accept he was also very gay-) He knew Omega liked him, so why not..?
And that time he fucked his arm up bc he's that stupid (jk, I love him)
Tags: Trans masc!Rain, dubious consent, vaginal sex, anal sex, under-negotiated kink, face slapping, humiliation, small penis humiliation, dacryphilia, slut shaming, Mean!Dew
A fic i forgot about for like two years, hated and scraped a good chunk of, and now we are back...I write sometimes still guys, I swear.
Read on ao3 or below the cut
The sigh against his lips was soft. A delicate exhale tinged by the taste of watermelon and the most delicious of frustrations. Sweetness that went straight for the already vivid heat in his belly like cherry wood for the pyre.
Dew groaned.
His tongue darted out, eager to taste it from the source rather than secondhand. He delved into the familiarity of Rain’s mouth as his hand slipped between Rain’s head and the pillow. Cupped the back of his neck as his fingers found their way into the loose sweaty curls at the nape with the sole purpose of keeping him there. Right where Dew wanted him when he started to shift, trying to take where Dew wasn’t ready to give.
That was the thing about kissing Rain, it invited hunger to creep in and Dew was incapable of denying it. Even more incapable of not feeding it. Moderation became a foreign word, an unthinkable concept. He would take his time with it, with him.
Dew’s tongue flicked over the point of a fang as it swept between Rain’s teeth, grazing the roof of his mouth. Trying to taste every inch of the water ghoul, inside and out. It was his to explore. He selfishly wanted to drink Rain down to the very bottom. It was his turn to take, every last drop, every last morsel, till there was nothing left.
He shifted his hips, a slow roll that had his cock slipping between Rain’s folds, right against the warmest part of him. Smooth on the way down, nearly catching where it counted on the way back up. Rain tensed beneath him, anticipation coiling tight and preparing to spring but the relief didn't find him. His tip slid over his hole and nudged against the underside of Rain’s fat little t-dick when it missed, offering clumsy unintentional pleasure that hardly lasted. Rain made a sound low in his chest, clearly expecting this to be what finally put an end to the teasing and brought them together.
The loose lazy grip on his biceps grew tighter, blunt nails beginning to bite as his purpose for holding became less about touch and more about insistence.
“Come on,” Rain demanded against his mouth, tongue as sharp as his claws as they really started to dig. “You've had your fun. Fuck me.”
“Starting to make me think I spoil you too much when you act like this,” Dew mumbled and shook his death grip off before Rain could bruise his impatience into him. “You’re lucky I think you’re cute.”
Rain allowed himself to be shrugged off with a sigh, hands falling back to the pillow above his head. Framing himself in the angles of his limbs, disinterest drawing his eyes away. Drifting to an unspecified point across the room. Pointedly off of Dew. Dew watched him for half a beat, waiting for those dark eyes to return to him, for Rain’s fondness to betray his petulant demeanor. His attention did return, eventually, but it lacked warmth. He may as well have been fucking a stranger with how he gazed back.
Dew hesitated. Waited like he was expecting the facade to slip, searching for it with fading amusement.
Rain never cracked. Only managed to look mildly pleased with him for a moment when Dew hiked his leg up over his hip. His cock throbbed in his fist despite that initial sinking feeling. He let it go in favor of a few indulgent strokes to unravel the nerves that look of Rain's had briefly knotted up. Slowly, up and down, root to tip.
A few good pumps had Dew aching to slide home, unease up and forgotten as he tapped himself against Rain’s waiting hole.
One hand under Rain’s knee, the other braced on the pillow beside his head, Dew pushed into him.
Finally.
Dew gripped the pillowcase, nails threatening the rich thread count. His eyes fluttered despite himself, he always preferred to watch Rain’s expression melt with pleasure but he needed to savor every inch. They had mutually been denied this, the closest substitute to heaven a ghoul could hope to find.
Dew's moan pitched upwards as they properly slotted together, becoming something high and needy. A sound so honest he should have been mortified to produce it.
Luckily for Dew, Rain proved to be a perfect distraction from embarrassment.
Hips flush, skin to skin. He could feel how his own bodyheat bled into Rain from the inside out, slowly but surely overpowering Rain’s typically cold state. Warm to the touch, warm enough Dew had to lay both hands on him to really feel it.
It never got old, to feel how Rain took him. Took all of him. The ease in which Rain adjusted, how well they’d always managed to fit together, like they belonged just like this. Like Lucifer might have designed them with such purpose in mind.
Maybe Lucifer had.
His eyes opened to wander down the length of Rain’s laid out form, down to the place their bodies met.
Buried inside his mate, an unholy union of lust.
Dew wished he could keep him like this. Warm. Filled. Claimed as his.
He could.
The desire was sudden and invasive. Lightning striking somewhere in his lust addled brain—He could, somehow. A subtly adjusted angle here, a well-timed bite there. Drag Rain through the same deeply permanent euphoria that Dew drowned in when they were together. It wouldn’t be hard, and Rain was known to be pliable and even a little dumb with a cock in him.
Dew looked back to Rain's face, wanting to admire the things he did to him, wanting to see just how pleasure softened Rain's features.
But his face hadn't changed.
“…Is it in yet?”
The syrup trickling warm and sweet in Dew’s veins curdled when Rain spoke, words tinged by disappointment. Rain wore an expression to match. Bored by the whole affair, inconvenienced by not even just the act itself, by Dew. Dew almost flinched from the ice behind them.
“What?” His voice came out small, smaller than Dew should have allowed himself to sound in the face of Rain’s disregard.
There was a minuscule twitch at the corner of Rain’s mouth, an entirely missable but involuntary tell that Dew fixed on.
“I just didn’t realize.”
As if the initial comment didn’t wound him on its own, the near lackadaisical response gutted him. Violent as a knife ripped straight through his pride. Rain shrugged at him when he stared in shock. Simply shrugged without a hint of guilt on his face.
Dew’s expression twisted, shifting from surprise to anger. He pulled out of him, wanting distance to process the offense.
“The fuck do you mean ‘is it in?’”
“I mean, I can’t really feel it baby.” Rain half laughed, half scoffed like he couldn’t possibly understand why it was even a question.
“You’re…Are you fucking kidding me?” Dew furrowed his brow, searching for humor, looking for reason where there was none. Not when it came to Rain and his specific brand of cruelty. “You’re fucking serious?”
He responded with another shrug.
Dew felt heat creeping up to the tips of his ears, the taste of smoke trapped behind his teeth. Something cold dripped down his spine. Two conflicting flavors of anger that overshadowed his blind, love-sick lust.
“What?” Rain asked when the silence was left unpunctured. “It isn’t my fault.” He propped himself up on his elbow to lazily toss the hair from his face. “Oh, don’t be dramatic Dew. Come on. Just grab one of the toys from the drawer or something if you can’t make it work.”
“Not your fault?” Dew asked, bewildered. He pushed him back to the mattress with force, enough force to earn a strange look from Rain. His hand remained flat on his sternum, pinning him there. Rain's pulse quickened, not quite a nervous flutter but it betrayed his unbothered facade. “How the fuck is it not your fault? Your cunt is fucked sloppy and somehow it isn’t your fault?”
“Someone had to do what you couldn’t,” Rain stated like he was informing him of something obvious. Telling him what he should have already known.
He stared at him.
“...Sorry,” Rain offered flatly. An empty gesture meant to placate.
Rain had never played the role of apologetic well. Regret never found a home in his expression, the mirth never quite left his eyes even as he tried to wear a mask of guilt. Even now, the glint of it was unmistakable. Dew could tell, he was biting the inside of his cheek to stop the edges of his lips from curling up in delight at the sight of his distress. Humor. Having sown the seeds of humiliation and doubt, he was simply waiting for the weight of it to press down until Dew broke in the way only Rain managed to break him.
He was waiting for the first sign of weakness to prey upon, whatever that might have been. From the way Rain studied his face, he was searching for tears, for the telltale way Dew shrank in on himself when the inferiority gripped him. Dew was intimately familiar with the games Rain enjoyed playing and every self serving motive behind his decisions.
Even his silence was done with purpose.
He refused to give Rain the satisfaction of breaking. Not this time.
“Don't lie to me, Rain.” The words slipped through his teeth. Rain tipped his head curiously. “You should be sorry but we both know you’re not.”
“Should be?” Rain laughed, prodding at something he hadn’t accounted for. “I don't see why I need to be sorry for your ego getting—”
“Shut up,” He interrupted. “Shut your fucking mouth since you can't seem to shut your fucking legs.”
“What are you gonna do? Spank me and tell me I was bad?” He giggled this time.
He reached for Dew’s wrist to dislodge him but Dew jerked away from him before his fingers could close around it. Rain opened his mouth again, intent on digging in. Dew moved without thinking. He reeled back instead, he met the potential retort with the flat of his hand before the sound could hope to escape. Skin met skin sharply, a cracking sound that was surely heard down the hall. The contact left his cheek a new hue, more purple than red, a perfect imprint of Dew’s palm left behind. Rain whimpered before the shock wore off and the pain set in. An involuntary response, Dew was sure of it.
“Dew—” Rain started shakily, tainted by uncertainty.
His hand hovered over the emergency brake.
He stared at Dew, he stared at him in the way the rabbit stares at the fox. In the way he knew stoked some primal, vicious hunger at the base of Dew’s instincts. Another move that was deliberate but so clearly strayed from Rain’s original plan, he was out of his element. Teetering somewhere between rational and reckless.
Rain didn’t reach for safety even when the space was offered.
Dew grabbed him by the hips and flipped him roughly. Claws scratched across the soft skin, angry red welts left in their wake. No longer laid out comfortably in the pillows with the expectation of being spoiled, smothered in the soft down. Rain had squandered his tenderness and Dew didn’t plan to waste much more on him, not after his attitude, not after his behavior.
Below him, Rain tried to push himself up onto his hands but Dew refused to afford him the dignity. He shoved him back down, kept him exactly where he deserved to be.
“You wanna lay there and act like a princess so bad, fine. Fucking lay there since it’s all you’re good for.”
His hand spanned the expanse between his shoulder blades, tension gathering between each individual point of contact. Under the pads of his fingers Dew could feel every twitch of Rain’s nerves responding with more honesty than his mouth could have. When Rain shifted, Dew pressed further, the skin of his palm bordering on the uncomfortable side of too warm as a quiet warning—Threatening to brand this position of submission into him so he wouldn’t forget it if he dared to resist.
Rain was stubborn, not stupid at the very least, he didn’t fight. Knew better than to try in his position.
“This is all your fault, baby” Dew told him as he grabbed the base of his tail. “So you’re going to make it up to me.” With little regard, Dew yanked his hips upwards, relishing in the yelp it wrenched out of Rain.
Easily, Dew slid his cock back into the slick embrace of Rain’s cunt. Rain’s breath hitched. “Surprised you can even tell it’s in” He remarked while rolling his eyes, giving a shallow thrust, then a second for good measure. “Better hope whoever used it earlier left it wet enough. This is all the help you're gonna get.”
”Wet enough for—“ Rain started but choked on the sound as Dew’s tip nudged at his other hole. “Oh. Oh, Dew, not there—“ His voice pitched upwards, a tremor of panic rippling through him. It had the unintentional consequence of making the ring of muscle pucker and kiss at his head.
“The other hole is clearly too loose, sweetheart. How is it supposed to make anyone feel good anymore?” He asked coyly. “How else are you supposed to make it up to me?”
Holding his tail that much tighter, Dew left no room for retreat. Rain was going to take it. If he wasn't sorry on his own, Dew would help him find that remorse.
The initial press of his cock into his ass was met with a distressed sound.
Dew hushed him like one might soothe a frightened animal trying to escape the muzzle though the concern didn't quite match, still easing himself in all the while. Rain’s cry became rough and hoarse, higher and even more pained as he was forced to endure the stretch of him. His body gripped his cock, bearing down against the intrusion—Dew wasn’t sure if it was trying to keep him out or pull him deeper.
Dew grit his teeth, white knuckling the base of Rain’s tail the same way Rain gripped at the sheets. Both vain substitutes for a life-line. Self restraint was slipping from him, and slipping fast. He felt dizzy by the time he found himself buried in Rain’s virgin-tight ass. He knew nothing about Rain was still untouched, Rain had been taken thoroughly, that fact was what landed him in his current predicament, but Dew liked the fantasy. He wanted to be the one Rain wouldn’t forget.
Rain trembled from toe to tip, a violent shudder that shook the bed.
His scent was sharp and bright, heightened by his nerves being fried by sensation. Dew released his tail and folded himself over Rain’s back, pressing his nose into his hairline to huff it straight from the source. He ran his tongue along the junction of his shoulder and neck, the cold sweat salty and rich on his tastebuds. Tantalizing, like his body was trying to provoke more. A glutton for punishment, much to his own detriment.
“Hurts, huh baby?” Dew cooed against the shell of his ear. “Breathe for me, tadpole.”
The exhale was labored, like he’d up and forgotten his lungs had a purpose, like Dew carving out a place inside of him had pushed every part of his brain offline. Rain was known to be a little dumb with a cock in him, after all.
Dew’s cock kicked inside him, Rain responded in a manner he could only describe as wounded, a sound almost entirely unbecoming of a ghoul like him.
The tears had started to gather and clump in his lashes well before Dew had fully hilted himself inside but they only truly fell when he thought to move his hips in pursuit of selfish pleasure.
Rain’s mouth fell open but nothing came out.
“Oh Rainy—“ He purred and nuzzled into his hair, the act disarming in its sincerity. “Cry a little harder, I might just believe you mean it.”
okay I am back as promised :3 i'm working on a missilia amori music video fic so i stole a piece of it and reworked it to be impera because nothing makes me smile more than pick blep impera rainy 🤍
Rehearsal's dragging into its third hour and Rain's guitar strap keeps slipping, which means Rain keeps hiking it back up one-handed, which means the pick's got nowhere to live except his mouth. He barely notices he's doing it anymore. Balaclava pulled snug, pick held right through the fabric against his lips, humming the bridge to himself while Copia argues with a lighting cue.
Dew notices. He would be incapable of not noticing this.
"Gimme," he says, sidling over between takes, already reaching — two fingers, quick, aimed right at the corner of Rain's mouth.
Rain turns his head half an inch. Just enough. Dew's fingers close on nothing but air and a very smug silence.
"Rude," Dew says, and goes again, and Rain dodges again, easy as breathing, eyes crinkling behind the mask like he could do this all night. Third try, Dew fakes left and Rain, predictably, drifts right into it — except Dew was never actually going for the pick with his hand at all.
He goes for it with his mouth instead. Covered-mouth to covered-mouth, teeth first like it's still the bit, like it's still funny — and Rain huffs a laugh through his nose because of course, of course this is happening, of course it's happening in full costume in front of the entire crew—
The pick clatters to the stage.
Neither of them notices, mostly because neither of them put their instruments down first. Dew's guitar thunks flat against Rain's bass with an ugly, ringing clunk of wood on wood, both of them too committed to care, and half a second later their helmets meet with a clack of horn on goggle that should absolutely have been a warning shot and does absolutely nothing to slow either of them down.
What's left after that is slower — the fabric gone damp where their mouths meet, dark little press of it clinging, sticking, the two layers of black doing nothing at all to keep this from being exactly what it looks like. Dew licks once, deliberate, and feels Rain go still under it before he licks back, sloppy and unhurried, spit soaking straight through both balaclavas until there's no pretending this is still about a guitar pick.
Rain's hand finds the front of Dew's jacket like he needs something to hold onto. Dew makes a small pleased sound against his mouth that will be brought up later, right around the time somebody points out the new scratch in his guitar.
A whistle cuts through the room — sharp, rising, gusting hard enough to flutter every loose scrap of fabric onstage, Cirrus clearly not content with a normal wolf whistle when she can weaponize the air itself. Somewhere behind them, a pedal squeals feedback into the silence, because apparently everyone else stopped playing to watch this happen too.
Copia doesn't even look up from his clipboard.
"Per favore," he says, weary and entirely unsurprised, "if you could possibly wait to ruin your uniforms until we are back from tour — I would be, eh, molto grato."
WAIT KEEP TALKING ABOUT THE TENTACLE THING PLEASE I SEE THE VISION SO CLEARLY
IM GLAD SOMEONE SEES THE VISION
Ok but just think about it
She might as well be semi sentient, she knows what she wants and she’s spoiled about it. Usually it’s to Rain’s detriment, oh but he’s perfectly aligned with her evil things occur.
Gets Dew all spread out under him. Promises him he’s gonna give her to him. Rain gets their hips slotted together and watches her wiggle, searching for the nearest warm hole. At this point, Dew is probably more excited than Rain. He loves playing with her.
Until the tip wiggles in and just. Stop. Dew has never felt her go still before. Snaps his head up to look at and Rain and. Oh. Oh he knows he’s in trouble just by the shine in his eye.
Rain wants to take his time and that’s what he’s gonna do. Slowly, so slowly, the tentacle begins to undulate, except the only thing moving are her suckers. They flex and pull, sticking to every sensitive spot inside of Dew and tugging.
She crawls her way deeper into Dew’s body. It’s so much while being nothing at all. Has Dew squirming, unable to sit still. Rain has draw his focus, do something before he accidentally knocks her off and they have to start allll over. Holds his hips down. Makes Dew count as each set of suckers slips inside.
Rain fucking Dew with his tentacle…..Rain sliding the tip in so slowly…….Rain refusing to move, letting the suckers do all the work……Rain making Dew count them as each pair works its way inside
