#he should be into wet ghouls now though
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janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01
➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader
➥ word count | 3.7k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb
➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”
➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠
there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself
mostly un-beta'd atm
a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!
feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist
Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.
One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.
Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.
It’d be easier if they were.
Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.
Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.
Then came the separation.
Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.
And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.
See, war’s something he understands.
But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?
How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?
When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?
He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.
Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.
The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.
Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.
Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.
But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.
See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.
Hell, millions used to scream his name.
Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”
While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.
It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.
Something’s gotta give.
After all, he’s only one man.
But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.
A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.
At first, he kept his distance.
Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.
Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.
Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.
Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.
Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.
So what if he takes himself in hand after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?
Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?
Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?
What you don’t know can’t hurt you.
After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.
“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”
Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.
“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”
A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”
Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"
“Mnhfmmmm.”
“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”
Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”
Shit.
“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”
Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.
Together they settle with a bounce of springs.
In the open space, you slide in.
The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.
“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”
“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”
“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”
Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.
You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.
“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”
Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.
“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”
“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”
Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.
“... Then pancakes it is.”
As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”
“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”
“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”
“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”
She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears.
Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.
“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.
“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”
The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.
After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.
“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”
The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.
A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.
Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.
“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”
Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.
The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.
Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.
When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.
You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.
Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.
Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.
After all, he’s not yours to touch.
Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”
Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”
Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood.
“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”
He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.
God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.
Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.
“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”
Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.
“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”
“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.
Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.
“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.
Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.
The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.
“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”
“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”
Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”
“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.
Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.
Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.
Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.
But here — with him — you shouldn’t.
Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.
When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”
“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”
Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.
“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”
The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.
He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”
You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.
Greedy.
Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.
However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog.
Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”
Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”
“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“No, that’s not what I --”
He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”
Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”
“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.
Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”
“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”
Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.
Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?
Hell, you even cook and clean!
Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.
Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.
How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.
If he wasn’t so captivating…
“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”
“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”
Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.
When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.
Waiting to see what you'll do.
Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.
Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.
Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.
He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.
“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”
With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”
The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.
“Woah! I--”
“Tell me something.”
Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.
“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”
The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”
You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”
“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”
Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.
The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.
“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”
He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.
Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”
Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.
“C’mon, be honest.”
With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.
Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.
“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”
His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”
“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”
“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”
“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”
“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”
There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”
In what world would you refuse?
The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.
He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.
Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.
“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”
Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.
Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.
You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.
He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.
"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."
Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”
"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."
part 2 dropping soon
#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#the ghoul x you#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard smut#cooper howard#the ghoul#the ghoul smut
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18+ NSFW content ahead, MDNI
GOING TO POUND TOWN WITH SUKUNA - HEADCANONS
Includes: fem!reader, degradation, choking, unprotected piv (wear condoms, you guys and ghouls) + a bit more typical sukuna shenanigans i think he'd do (headcanons, duh)
Note: genuinely have no clue how else to label it, just pure shameless smut (not proofread); @cafekitsune - banner
¤ Sukuna isn't the one to play games with. Because that's his quirk.
¤ That abomination of a man/curse will have you all riled up and begging in a nick of time.
¤ Pinning you against any surface possible, calling you names because you're such a whiny mess after a single knuckle of his thick digit within your tight cunt, it makes him cackle.
¤ He's a natural at making you look truly pathetic, i'll give him that.
¤ He savors your pleas like they're a nectar made only for him, King of Curses, to devour.
(*coughs* God complex-)
¤ He also wants you to watch what he's doing to you. So, by any means, he will knock you up by the mirror and he WILL make you watch, whether you like it or not.
¤ Pinning you against the sink in the restroom of some club you went to unwind at with your friends; with a veiny hand on your throat as he coos sweet nothings in your ear way to delicately for someone who's about to tear your clothes off to shreds.
¤ The man just knows how to present himself, i'll give him that ×2.
¤ If there was a foreplay it was rather short and unnecessary because your panties were soaking wet from the start. Plus, Sukuna doesn't like to waste precious time on something so meaningless to him. He just sees and claims it all, no fucks given.
¤ But, ultimately, ALL fucks given.
¤ Thrusts in one deep stroke, clasping a hand over your mouth.
¤ Don't get him wrong, he thrives on your cries, but he doesn't need any unwanted attention.
¤ Despite that he will still snarl degrading stuff like "Such a vocal bitch. You want others to come and check out this sight, hm? Maybe i should ask them to join as well, how about that?" after which he'll cackle once more, seeing you so obediently trying to silence yourself with his cock buried balls deep into you.
¤ "That's what i thought. Now stop whining and take it all in."
¤ That man is a pest, and he's proud of it.
¤ He's anything but gentle. Groping your curves with such force it'll surely leave bruises.
¤ Sukuna is not fucking, he's Fucking with a capital F. Mercilessly, rough, like he's genuinely trying to break you.
¤ One hand still on your throat; squeezing tightly, not enough to choke you, but enough to make you gulp for air with teary eyes.
¤ Gojo and his "Are you cryin'?" is all sunshine and flowers compared to Sukuna's "Are you cryin'?" with that malicious grin of his.
¤ Once again, that man fucking enjoys making a babbling mess out of you. Because that's what you are today, you're a cumslut, his cumslut. Once and for all.
¤ Never lets you finish first. Like, NEVER.
¤ 'S just not your privilege, honey. By his point of view, you basically sold your body to his possession. So he'll be the one to enjoy the ride to the fullest, with your pathetic whines accompanying wet slaps of skin on skin like a wicked lewd orchestra.
¤ Hits that sweet spot with each thrust, so you're on a timed schedule here before the bubble bursts.
¤ That torment doesn't stop for a second as he chases his high. Sukuna is literally a wild beast and he makes it known.
¤ One thing he does, though, is let go of your throat just to dig his nails into your waist and hips. Because if he didn't, he'd probably snap your damn neck. The sheer force of his grip on your flesh is ungodly.
¤ Cums with a grunt or huff. Not a growl, that he did during the process and right in your ear. While his mouth kept running, of course.
(To think about it, he isn't the talkative type usually. But, oh, dirty talk? When he knows how desperate you are? Sign him up, first row, best seat with couch cushions, please.)
¤ It's a grunt of pure bliss. Head thrown back, chest raising and falling rapidly, eyes rolling into oblivion as they close shut, the whole package.
¤ He'll never admit it even if you saw it in the reflection. Gaslighting is his middle name, i'll give him that ×3.
¤ Also bucks his hips into yours to fill you up to the brim. There's no debate here, if he said you're taking it, you are. Mewl all you want, his cock will kiss your cervix one more time, before he once again denies you of your release and slips it out.
¤ Will stare as his seed drips down your pussy and thighs. It's mesmerizing to him, okay? Especially when you're all trembling and sobbing, that gets him off for round two.
¤ Whenever he's feeling generous, he will make it more enjoyable for you. Though his lovebites still leave bloody markings all over you.
¤ Also, if he's VERY generous, he will finger you. We've all seen what those hands can do, there's no point in denying it'll be divine.
¤ But your clit will literally hurt afterwards. Come on, it's Sukuna, you know the drill.
¤ Praising ain't his cup of tea, but, alas, if he feels gracious enough, he'll give you such courtesy as well. In his typical Sukuna style, of course.
¤ "Gambare, gambare... Serving me so well today. Good girl."
¤ After which he'll slap your pussy for good measure making you squeak and shudder.
¤ Aftercare is not about him, but he'll give you some time to recover. Mostly because he doesn't want anyone but him to see you like this. It's only his treasure to preserve and relish.
¤ All you're getting is another hungry kiss to seal your cursed pact for good, bad and dirty.
"Now... how about we ditch this place and get back home? I'm still... starving."
¤ TOJI FUSHIGURO ¤ NANAMI KENTO ¤
#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna#jjk smut#jjk x reader#sukuna smut#author has sukuna brainrot#maybe the author will also come up with nanami and gojo headcanons
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This has me thinking about Swiss going into heat on stage. He tried so hard to ignore it, tried so hard to act like he was fine and nothing was wrong. But about halfway through the set it hits him all at once making his knees buckle.
He can smell Mountain. It makes it so much worse. The earth ghoul always worked up a sweat behind those drums but today it was particularly bad, the rich earthly scent flooding his senses and clouded his mind like thick fog.
He looks back at Mountain, leaning against the mic stand for support, hoping to catch Mountain’s eyes from under both their masks. Mountain isn’t paying attention to him, too busy focusing on playing, which he should be too, but he’s distracted by Mountain, watching his strong arms come down on each drum, with strong hits. He groans, unable to help himself, wondering what they’d feel like hitting somewhere else.
He feels himself collapse with need, grinding against the mic stand as his knees hit the floor. Mountain’s looking at him, he can feel his eyes burning into the back of his head, can feel the disapproving stare from under the mask, but he can’t stop himself now. The pressure on his cock is too good, too much, and nothing in the world could get him to stop now. There’s slick soaking through his trousers, running down his thighs, he knows Mountain can see it, know he can smell it as he watched Mountain scent the air, sees him gritting his teeth with a growl, bringing his arms down on the drums even harder.
He’s moaning under the mask, thankfully the loud music help cover it up, but he knows that Mountain is close enough to hear him. He can’t stop rocking on his feet, pushing his cock into the cold metal of the mic stand.
There’s a tapping onto his mind connection, like someone is poking at his brain and if he was in the right state of mind he’d ignore it, focus on his work, but right now he’s lost the ability to think. He opens his mind and let’s the wavelength in.
"if you're gunna act like a bitch in heat, I'm gunna breed you like one.”
Mountain’s deep voice booms in his brain, echoing around, even over the loud music
Swiss falls forward with a loud moan, he almost falls face first into the floor, but he doesn’t care about that. His brain is gone, turned to mush and leaking out his ears. His arches his back, pushing his ass out and high in the air, presenting himself for Mountain. If his tail was unglamoured it would be hitched up high over his hip, the perfect position to be mounted and bred.
He can’t see Mountain from this position, and he’s glad for it. But he can still hear him, sneering at him in his mind.
“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d let me come over there, Mount you like the bitch you are.” He hears the drum miss a single beat before resuming it’s otherwise perfect playing. “You want that? Want to be mounted and fucked right in front of everyone? Show them all how well you take such a big cock, how well your greedy little hole just swallows it? How well you take a knot? Wanna show them what a good little breeding bitch you really are?”
Swiss moansloud enough that Phantomlooks behind him with a looks of shock on his face. Swiss doesn’t care though, just arches his back even more for Mountain, feeling a rush of slick leaking out of him, and running down his thighs.
He feels Mountain in his head again, poking around, and it makes him whine before Mountain has even had the chance to say anything.
“And once I was done using you, breeding you, I’ll turn you around and make you show the audience, show them your little hole all stretched out and full of me. Show them how I claim you, and every single one of them will know who you belong too.”
Swiss blacks out a little as he cums, feeling his cock pulsating hotly in his jeans as he feels himself coat the inside of them and make them warm and wet and sticky. He whines, long and low in his throat, before getting back up on very wobbly feet, trying to act like that didn’t just happen.he grimaces, his jeans sticking to him in an uncomfortable way, damp and sticky.
He has to sing in a second, his part of the backing vocals coming up. He looks back at Mountain, only to find the earth ghoul looking directly back at him. He watches as Mountain runs his tongue along his fangs, palming at the very obvious erection in his jeans, all while never missing a beat. He feels his cock begin to kick and fatten back up at the wild look in Mountain’s eyes, and he knows right then and there that he’s in for a long night.
#As you can see I am feeling very normal about Swiss ghoul today#the band ghost#ficlet#ghost headcanons#nameless ghouls#swiss ghoul#My writing
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I NEED MORE GHOUL HORN PORN CONTENT
(I think @stede-bonnets has opened a can of worms for everyone, so thank them!)
"Dew," Aether gasps, "oh, oh-"
He can barely get the words out between each thrust Dew gives him. And really, there aren't many words now. Noises, yes. Hurt little vocalizations that Dew pulls from him with force, like Aether owes him.
It's different when Aether takes him, but Dew is always demanding. Always just this side of too much. An almost but not quite burn, like hiding a hand too close to an open flame. Almost, but not quite.
Spread out on his back, Aether huffs a breath, knocked out of him rhythmically.
"Hang on- oh, please, please, hang on, slow down-"
Dew braces one hand on Aether's chest, ans shoves the fingers of his other roughly into Aether's mouth to quiet him.
"I'll fuck you how I want," Dew says. And really, he should have seen this coming. Too many months away on tour, and Aether has missed him. They've missed each other. It isn't that Aether doesn't enjoy the treatment he's getting, but it's going to be over so quickly, is the thing. He should have played with himself in the shower earlier. Given himself a fighting chance. Dew will be done with him when he feels like it, not if Aether cums too early and sobs from sensitivity. Best he hold out, though he knows Dew wants his tears tonight.
So he moans around his fingers, the sound blunted but no less devastating. His thighs jiggle with each thrust; Dew watches that intensely. There's a smattering of tiny bruises, a speckling of blue marks where Dew nipped and sucked cruelly to make Aether whine, hurting him just enough to make him tremble and beg. To stop or continue, he isn't sure himself. Flinching from the pain and his cock still flushed and heavy lying against his soft belly.
"Already close aren't you," Dew says, low and a little nasty. Not a question, but Aether nods fervently anyway, eyes wide and overbright with a few gathered tears. "You keep squeezin' me, I can tell. Greedy little hole missed me, huh?" Dew withdraws his fingers and Aether knows he's meant to respond.
"It missed you," he pants. "So did I." And then his cock throbs hard when Dew leans down, the angle change forcing the blunt head of his cock squarely into the sweet secret spot inside him, and Aether panics.
"S'gonna make me cum," he confesses, urgent, pawing at any piece of Dew he can reach. "Not yet, please-"
"Can't help yourself," Dew laughs, pausing. Grinding. Somehow it's worse. "Need my cock so bad, can't help yourself." Aether shakes his head.
He should have gotten off earlier. Fuck, he should have.
Blessedly, Dew stills and Aether thanks him, and clenches his jaw when his balls draw up tight anyway. Hair trigger, now. Already on borrowed time.
Dew leans down, and places a little kiss to his forehead, a syrupy sweet gesture that catches Aether off guard, and then, horribly-
He feels a hot, flat tongue drag along the line where skin meets horn.
Aethers body jerks and he cries out.
Dew chuckles. Evil, he really is. The tongue repeats, and Aether's eyes roll back as Dew uses his lips and tongue to make out with the sensitive area, wet and demanding as he always is, forcing sensation out of him. It's a tingly sort of pleasure, and one that he feels directly in his pelvis. It's excruciating.
"Hold it in," Dew breathes. "Not until I tell you. Don't cum until I say you little slut."
Dew licks a filthy stripe from the base up the horn itself.
He tries to hold it in.
Dew repeats.
He cannot hold it in.
#st-speaks#ghost#the band ghost#nameless ghouls#dewdrop ghoul#ghost fanfiction#ghost headcanons#aether ghoul#sodo ghoul#dew ghoul#aether x dewdrop#aether/dewdrop#aether/dew#aether x dew#aether/sodo#aether x sodo
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Mushy May Day 6 & 7 - You're Blushing & Gift Giving (Aether/Dew)
Did a little bit of prompt combining and swapping this time around! Thank you again @forlorn-crows for organizing this. Normally writing challenges are really hard for me, but I'm having SO much fun with this one. And thank you @ghuleh-recs for the adorable dividers!
Day 6 & 7 - You're Blushing & Gift giving, Aether/Dew, no warnings, 1426 words
PS - See the end of the work for notes/photos of what Aether and Dew got for each other!
It’s their summoning day - eight whole years since the day Aether and Dew were summoned together straight from the Pit to serve the ministry. As with all summoning days, the pack throws a huge party, inviting all the ghouls and siblings in the abbey to celebrate. Papa even makes an appearance to toast his two longest-serving band ghouls.
It’s a huge party, full of food lovingly prepared by Mountain and tasty cocktails served up by Sunny and Aurora. Swiss has appointed himself DJ for the night, knowing just what to play to keep everyone in the mood to party. There’s even a cake, and later, the pack goes around the room one by one, each giving Aether and Dew a thoughtful little gift.
Finally, the night grows late and the celebrations begin to wind down, and Aether and Dew excuse themselves after exchanging a final round of bear hugs and big, wet kisses (Phantom is definitely not drunk, thank you) with the other members of the pack before heading back to their shared room.
They always wait to exchange their gifts for each other in private, a tradition they started just one year after their joint summoning. The same year they promised themselves to each other as mates.
As soon as their door is closed, however, Dew’s mood shifts. He seems anxious, eyes immediately darting over to the brown paper gift bag he’d set on the nightstand with Aether’s name written carefully across the tag.
“Can you go first?” Dew asks, uncharacteristically reserved.
Aether smiles, unsure as to why the normally confident little fire ghoul might be so nervous, and passes his gift over. It’s wrapped simply in white paper with a red bow on top and the tag says “Dew,” with a little heart drawn next to it. Dew takes it and carefully tears into one of the corners of the paper with a claw.
“You didn’t!” Dew exclaims, immediately recognizing the mystery object. He rips through the rest of the wrapping with abandon and pulls out a hefty box set of DVDs in smart, red packaging.
“I did!” Aether beams, proud of himself and delighting in the way Dew is already ripping off the cellophane and flipping through the sizable book of disks with a massive grin on his pretty face. “Couldn’t have us running out of movies to watch on kung-fu night, now could we?”
“Yes!! You’re the best, Aeth!” Dew exclaims with delight, throwing his arms around the quintessence ghoul and showering his face in kisses. “Gotta pace ourselves this time though. We watched them all way too fast last time.” He looks back at Aether with wide, expectant eyes.
Aether nods in agreement and presses a kiss to Dew’s forehead. Happy that his nerves seemed to have calmed for the time being and ecstatic that Dew loves his gift so much.
Dew flips through the disks for another few moments, rattling off all the titles he’s most excited to see. Finally, he sets his gift down and reaches for the bag he has waiting on the nightstand.
“Ok, my turn,” he says, and all but shoves the gift straight into Aether’s chest.
Aether takes the bag and contemplates the little ghoul for a moment.
“You’re blushing,” he informs him, matter-of-factly.
Dew’s head whips up.
“Um, I am definitely not blushing,” he answers with an indignant little pout.
“No, no. You are definitely blushing,” Aether assures him. “Should I be worried about what’s in this thing?” he teases, holding the bag up next to his ear and shaking it gently.
“Oh my god just open it already before I change my mind and throw it out the damn window,” Dew barks, blushing harder.
Aether leans over to kiss the other ghoul on the lips apologetically before turning his attention back to the gift bag in his lap. He carefully takes out the tissue paper and reaches in, pulling out what looks to be a large, leather-bound book.
Dew holds his breath.
Aether sets the gift wrap aside to inspect the book, turning it over in his hands. It’s heavy, hand-bound in a supple black leather with a beautifully embossed crescent moon in the center of the cover. Below the moon are two alchemical symbols, also embossed, one for fire and one for quintessence, and around the edges and corners is an elaborate, twisting geometric design. Aether turns the book over in his hands. Along the spine are four brass rivets and in the center, a beautiful piece of brass antique hardware with scalloped edges and a natural patina.
Aether flips the book’s cover open. There he finds beautifully hand-marbled paper with a bright purple scalloped pattern. There’s a hand-stamped bookplate affixed to the inner cover too, a black and white image of a crescent moon surrounded by a sky of stars, reading ex libris in Latin across the top. On the bottom someone has written “A+D” with a calligraphy pen. And finally, hanging inside and bound into the spine is a thin, black leather bookmark with a tiny brass star charm matching the look of the hardware on the spine.
It’s absolutely beautiful and like nothing Aether has ever seen before. But despite the antique look of the book, it smells brand new.
“Dew, did you make this?” Aether looks up at the fire ghoul in awe, mouth agape as he realizes.
Dew’s still blushing, and he reaches to rub the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Yeah… Mountain helped me with it. Showed me how to emboss the leather and bind all the pages together and everything.” He looks up at Aether. “I messed up a bunch though, so it’s not perfect or anything,” he explains, still rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted to make a more elaborate bookplate too, but I ran out of time because I kept fucking up the paper marbling…” he trails off.
“There’s uh.. There’s more too.” He starts again. “If you open it.”
Aether carefully opens the book again, this time to the first proper page, where he’s greeted by a collage of photos, little pieces of paper, and other flat objects, lovingly and meticulously affixed to the pages. The first photo is of Aether and Dew, way back on their very first day in the band together. The very first day they met. They stand side by side, not close enough to touch, silver masks pulled over their faces and obscuring their expressions. Dew stands rigid straight with his chest puffed out and his bass strapped across his front. Aether looms tall next to him, shiny new black Fantomen guitar in his hands.
Aether flips through the book and sees their entire history laid out in front of him. Photos of Dew slouched over, fast asleep in his seat on the tour bus. Aether caught with a mouth full of ramen noodles at a restaurant in Tokyo. There are more than just photos too. A pair of their first guitar picks, lovingly used and placed beside each other. A pressed flower, the first flower Aether playfully passed over to Dew after catching it from an audience member. There are little scraps of paper torn from hotel room notepads with silly drawings on them. Pamphlets from tourist traps that Dew insisted they stop at while on the road. A menu from their favorite taco spot in Mexico City. Pages and pages of photos and objects full of cherished memories.
An archive of them.
Aether can’t find the words, so Dew breaks the silence. “I only filled it halfway… since I figured we’ve got so much more to add in the future.”
Aether makes a choked sound, and Dew looks up at him for the first time since he opened the gift.
“You’re crying.” Dew informs him, a smug little grin creeping across his face.
Aether sniffles. “No I am not…”
“Ok, fine. Maybe I am a little bit,” he immediately concedes, wiping away the tears that start to stream down his cheeks.
Aether sets his precious gift down on the bed and pulls Dew in for a hug, wraps his arms tight around the little ghoul and presses kisses and happy tears into the top of his head.
“Thank you, Dew,” he says after a while of holding his favorite ghoul in the world tight in his arms. “I love it so much, I don’t even know what to say.”
Dew reaches up and pulls Aether down for a kiss. He doesn’t even know why he was nervous at all in the first place.
Dew's gift. What I based Aether's book on, what the marbled paper looks like, and examples of what a bookplate looks like!
#mushy may 2024#dewther#aether/dew#aether/dewdrop#aether x dew#aether x dewdrop#aether ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#ghost band fanfic#ghoul-slime fic#ghoul-slime mushy may 2024#i'm sorry i made these ghouls cry two days in a row#happy tears though!
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Belle i am hiding behind anon right now because i'm about to play devils advocate (in a sexy way, not an anti feminism podcast way dont worry)
Ok. So the thing is...Swiss should get to make the new bug piss. As a little treat for how hard he has been slutting it up for us on that podium all tour. I know we are all thinking it i'm just saying it ok😭
Take my hand. We will do this.
(This part's a bit softer.)
"Oh no," Aeon says in a tiny voice. He's trembling something fierce now and Swiss isn't even doing anything to him anymore.
Physically, anyway.
"Got a little bit left in you, dontchya?" Swiss leers. His hands are still, finally still where they sit on the flare of Aeon's hipbones but the way his fingers push into Aeon's skin, not to tickle but to grab and own and-
"Asked you a question." Swiss says and Aeon's breath hitches. He could call it here, if he wanted. He's got his already, Swiss will probably flip him over and fuck his thighs, then throw the both of them in the shower, but. He's never...y'know. And it not like he wouldn't, isn't obscenely curious about it but he'd thought his first time trying it out would be with Rain and to be entirely honest, he'd thought Rain would be the one, uh. Letting loose.
He's never really thought about himself in such a vulnerable position.
He stares up at Swiss with wide eyes, still trembling from his orgasm and the torture that preceded it. He's weak. Helpless. If he called it, he'd have to stand on shaky legs to go to the bathroom. Maybe Swiss would give him his space and Aeon can't bear the thought of losing the comfortable weight of the multi-ghoul on top of him right now. He wants to. He's just gotta get over the mental block saying he can't.
"Swiss…" Aeon says softly, not entirely sure where his head's at right now and the façade drops. Swiss loses the look of a predator and softens around the edges.
"Hey." He says back, reaching up to pat Aeon's cheek. "Just running my mouth, yeah? Thought it might be hot but if you-"
"I want to." Aeon insists and grins at the way the other ghoul's eyebrows jump into his hairline. "Just, uh." Nervous isn't really the right word but it's not like he's got the brainpower to dig around in his mental thesaurus for the perfect one. Swiss seems to understand anyway though, thankfully. He lays himself down over Aeon like a big cat, and even though Aeon can feel his erection poking the vee of his hipbones, Swiss puts his own pleasure aside for the moment.
"You're fine." Swiss says nonchalantly. "If you decide you don't wanna, we can just roll you over and I'll thighfuck you."
Aeon smirks. Called it.
"Can we…" he begins, starting up a gentle rock, maneuvering Swiss so his cock's pressed right up to the swell of Aeon's. It might be easier if he can't see himself do it. "Like this? Rub off on me?"
"Sure." Swiss says. Props himself up to catch Aeon's mouth in a deep, languorous kiss. Aeon trills into it, clutching at Swiss when each pass of his hips catches his soft, spent cock just right. It's on this side of too much but anything less wouldn't be enough.
Swiss likes it well enough from the way he's starting to breathe heavily. He pulls Aeon back into each roll of his hips, giving him a little jolt of sensation. His hands hurry to undo his pants, gets his thick cock out and pokes the blood-dark tip of it on the sensitive underside of Aeon's, rubbing it against the cum-wet fabric.
"Wanna see you messy in all kinds of ways," Swiss breathes, letting the weight of his cock slap down a few times to watch the way it makes Aeon jump before he's bending back down and resuming their casual frottage session. Aeon feels anything but casual, the words lighting up the same weird area of his brain the tickling had. He bites his lip, spreads his legs wide and holds Swiss tight, presses their chests together so close Aeon swears he can feel the other ghoul's heartbeat as he focuses. It's calm, compared to the rapid thudding of his own and Aeon takes a deep breath.
It's like his body knows not here! Not now! from the way a few hot drops dribble out to roll down his skin, the fabric of his underwear too wet to absorb anything more before the flow is cut off by his instincts.
"Do it," Swiss demands, sounding wrecked. "Wanna feel it, get me wet, do it."
Aeon opens his mouth to speak, say something like I'm trying, but all that comes out is a weak, feminine little "ah!" as Swiss rolls himself down hard and the pressure is just what he needs, the little bit of force to-
"Yeah," Swiss groans as he feels a new heat well up between their bodies. "Good boy, good fucking boy, that's it, gonna make me cum-"
"Hnnn!" Aeon squeaks, locking his legs around Swiss' waist as he wets himself, gets the both of them soaked with it. He feels it wash away the cum, drip down the cleft of his ass where it puddles there. He's shaking even more now, one raw nerve from head to toe but Swiss' encouragement makes it easy, make him easy, willing to go along with whatever the other ghoul wants, and if he wants Aeon to piss himself, he'll do it. Satan, he's so weak for the praise. He'll do anything if Swiss just keeps saying-
"Good boy, good boy," Swiss is chanting, thrusting frantically, practically bouncing the both of them on the mattress with how desperately he's humping away at Aeon to his own end.
"Swiss," Aeon says, sounding just as desperate "Swiss, oh no, I can't, please-"
Can't what, he doesn't know. But maybe Swiss gets it, has seen others like this before and nods, covering up Aeon's mouth with his own and swallowing down his whimpers as he groans, deep in his chest and rich with pleasure as his own cock starts shooting, emptying his balls over Aeon's and adding even more to the gross, sticky mess.
"So good," Swiss exhales as Aeon shakes and sobs below him. He's vaguely aware of a hand finding his own and twining their fingers together. "So fucking good for me, Aeon."
Aeon hugs him tight as the other ghoul begins to purr, hoping Swiss won't notice the new tears of relief welling up in his eyes quite yet.
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A Little Thing
[Very short. Dew learns he's a dad and takes things in stride. Mentions of a baby being in the NICU.] Below the cut.
Dew stares at the incubator, watching a tiny hand wrap around his finger.
"She's so small..." he whispers, awestruck, and the nurse beside him smiles sweetly.
"Strong though. Very strong." she assures him, "She's getting better at eating on her own."
"...And her mom?" he asks, gasping when he feels the tiniest squeeze on his pinkie.
"She looked well." she informs him, looking down at the clipboard in her hands, "...She hasn't changed her mind though. She signed the papers this morning and-"
"...When can I take her home?"
The nurse hums thoughtfully.
"I can't guarantee it will be soon, but she has been looking better over the last day or so." she says, "If she manages to get through her next couple of feedings without issue, she should be able to go home as early as this Friday, so long as she passes the car seat test."
"...And if she doesn't?" Dew frets, "What happens then?"
"She'll stay here a little longer then."
"I see... Did..." Dew wets his lips, "Did her mom... did her mom give her a name?"
She shakes her head.
Dew looks down at the baby.
His baby.
At her little, scrunched up face, at the little birthmarks that sit either side of her forehead where she'd have horns if she were a full ghoul kit, and at the subtle point to her ears....
He laughs.
"I can't think of a single name." he runs his free hand over his face, "I didn't... I haven't brainstormed a single one."
Dew tries not to overthink things, tries to focus on what the NICU staff told him, but it's hard not to when he's here, home, in the kitchen, while the baby is back at the hospital.
He feels like he's left a piece of himself back there.
An important, precious piece that he needs to get back as soon as-
"Dew? Dewy? Why're you pacing a bag of potatoes?" Swiss claps his hands, drawing Dew from his thoughts.
"...She weighs 6lbs." he mumbles, hefting the bag, "She weighs 6lbs. Swiss, that's not a lot, but I keep... I keep thinking. I keep thinking how that's not a lot..."
"She...? Who? Dew, bud, are you okay?"
"...I went by the hospital earlier." he says, "She's 6lbs."
"Oh." Swiss' eyes widen, recalling what Dew had told them a month ago now, "Oh, wow, that's... that's earlier than..."
He clears his throat.
"She though? You've got a daughter then?"
And that makes Dew pause.
"Yeah... Y-Yeah, I've got a daughter." he sets the bag down, feeling a little lost without something in his arms, "Swiss, I'm a dad."
Swiss wraps his own around the shorter ghoul, rubbing his back
"You're a dad."
Dew's eyes water as he settles into the embrace, sniffling.
"I'm a dad."
.
.
.
It takes about a week before his daughter can come home.
She wails most of the car ride home, thankfully, Dew isn't the one driving -Swiss is, because he offered first, much to Cirrus' disappointment, because, "I can only bring one other person into the NICU-"...-, so he can focus most of his energy on soothing her, which goes better than expected considering she's asleep by the time he gets the car seat unlatched and brings it stealthily (Again, Swiss is a real champ for this one, distracting curious siblings and other clergymen as Dew tries to sneak an entire living creature inside the building undetected and unbothered.) down to the ghouls' den.
The others are already waiting for him when he arrives, sat in the common room trying desperately not to get up from their seats to steal the baby greet him.
"She's so little..." Rain breathes, cradling Dew's baby in his arms on the couch.
"She gets that from her daddy." Swiss jokes, earning a small slap on the back from Cirrus, "Sorry."
"She's big for a kit." Aether hums, brushing a hand over the loose, black curls on the baby's head, "That's probably why she came so early... kits are usually half her size when they're born."
"What did you wind up naming her?" Sunny asks, turning to Dew, who is anxiously waiting for his friends to return his baby to him, which they do, once Swiss nudges Rain to give her back.
"Lily." Dew says, adjusting his grip, "...I thought, I thought it was kind of cute."
Dew flushes when the others coo.
"So, are we still going through with the plan?" Aether asks and Dew nods.
"Plan?" Cumulus raises an eyebrow, "What's this?"
Aether moves to sit beside Dew.
"Well... someone will need to stay home with Lily when tour starts, because a tour bus is no place for a newborn, let alone with a bunch of sleep deprived musicians..." Aether begins, "And you all know I've been wanting to take a break from traveling so much, and Dew's contract is still ongoing so... We're gonna co-parent?"
"You sneaky little-" Cirrus huffs, turning to Dew, "When were you going to tell us this?"
"I was going to tell you a little later on, but, well..." Dew dips his chin towards the baby in his arms, "...timeline jumped forward a bit."
"...And Mountain is okay with a baby living in his room part time?" She questions, looking to the tall ghoul, who has yet to say anything beyond a very tiny, "Hello" upon getting his turn to hold Lily.
"What's one more flower?" Mountain shrugs, "I already share a room with one baby-"
"Hey."
"-Point is, I'm fine with it." he says, "...Besides, I'm sure we're all going to wind up babysitting this little one from time to time, so I might as well get used to a bit of crying. Again, from Dew, not the baby-"
"I don't cry-"
The others look at him.
"-often. I don't cry often."
"..."
"It's hormones."
"..."
"...I hate you guys."
#Lamp writes#shitghosting#nameless ghouls#dewdrop ghoul#ghost band#ghost bc#the band ghost#ghost band fanfic#Dew The Dad
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❛ you’re soaked. let me grab you a towel. ❜ and a pairing of your choice with a water ghoul or ghoulette 👀💦
Mist and trans masc water dew, because I make the rules-
"That's it, just keep your legs open for me."
Dew nodded shakily, both hands covering the lower half of his face. He sunk further down into the couch, heels pressed to the back of his thighs, toes curled over the lip of the cushion.
From between the gaps in his fingers he dared to watch the slow in and out motion of Mist's digits. Every time they disappeared inside of his cunt he found himself painfully aware of how wet he was. Sure, he could feel how his body leaked like a fucking faucet but the sound was what really reminded him of it.
Dew felt filthy.
Sat in a growing puddle of his own desperation. Legs opened and on display to the water ghoulette before him. He was shaking, he'd been shaking since she got him undressed - however long ago that was now.
"Don't go shy on me now minnow." Mist ran a cool palm along his inner thigh and he shuddered. "You're doing perfect, wet as a water ghoul should be. I'm so proud of you."
A third finger pushed into him in time with her praise. Dew's eyes went unfocused for a minute and he dug his nails into the meat of his cheeks, some poor attempt to distract himself from the mounting pressure in his gut. The stretch, while gradual, pulled a loud moan from him. Louder than he would have liked and absolutely whorish.
"You like that?"
Mist's question was met with a slightly garbled uh huh and she smiled coyly. The rough pads of her fingers crooked upwards and Dew's mouth fell helplessly open, he didn't think to shut it.
"J...Just like that, yeah," his voice came out unsteady and soft. He didn't trust himself to speak any louder without breaking.
"What? Here?" She asked innocently despite rubbing directly on the softer spot on his inner walls. His legs just about spasmed.
"Fuck!"
"Mhm, thought so. Good boy."
Mist sat forward on her knees and gave his clit an experimental kitten lick that left him feeling dizzy. The brief caress of her tongue sent electricity throughout his nerves. His body went tight around her bony fingers. If he could think to uncurl his claws from his cheeks he'd have found a new home for them in her hair. Loose beach waves that he'd give anything to tug on, to use to selfishly drag her closer.
He thankfully didn't have to though. She got the hint, and he was grateful she didn't think to make him beg, he couldn't have formed a coherent plea if he tried.
Her lips sealed around his swollen clit and every inch of his body felt it. Felt her lapping away at his little cock. She'd stop occasionally only to drag her forked tongue through his folds, swallowing him down like she was dying of thirst.
It was like his brain clicked off. The combination of her fingers and alarmingly skilled tongue proved to be too much for him.
He felt the telltale flare of heat in his belly and his eyes fluttered, threatening to cross. He hardly registered the foreign weight that accompanied it, too busy choking on the pathetic little whimpers bubbling out of him.
Dew came with a full body sob, knees trying to draw together to stop the endless flood of stimulation but Mist's fingers continued to stroke inside him. Dark spots obscured his vision. Too much, too much for the poor water ghoul.
And that pressure, that pressure became unbearable.
"Oh fuck, wait, wait-"
There was barely a chance for him to babble out a warning, too hazy brained to realize it before his body responded with a gush of wetness. Mist jerked back with a surprised gasp that Dew could hardly hear through the ringing in his ears.
He uncoiled from himself slowly. Boneless against the couch cushions. Dew couldn't catch his breath.
"Shit, guppy..." Mist sat back on her heels and Dew cracked an eye open in time to watch her wipe her mouth on her arm. "Didn't think you were this messy."
It was a fight to get both eyes to open and focus on her. He almost curled up in on himself again, but in absolute shame. She was covered in his cum. Droplets beaded and dripped from her chin to her bare chest.
"You're...Sweet hell, you're soaked, I'm sorry. Let me get a towel or something, I'm, fuck, I'm sorry Mist." Dew mumbled and pushed himself off the couch onto unsteady legs. His knees were practically knocking together, wobbling.
He folded easily when Mist took his wrist and tugged him to the floor with her.
"Seems like a waste...You taste so good droplet, why don't you clean me up properly, hm? Bet you're good with your tongue."
"I, um, oh...I can, yeah, I can do that."
#spicy tag#writing#answered#void writing#mist ghoulette#dewdrop ghoul#dew ghoul#nameless ghouls#the band ghost#the band ghost ficlet#ghost the band#ghost bc
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Since we all know how much I love whumping Dew...
Dew's heats are hell.
They're not sexy in the slightest. They used to be, back when he was a water ghoul, but something changed in the makeup of his body after he changed essences, and now heats are just a week long hell for him.
He usually gets about a week's prewarning before his heat hits. He knows it's coming when his chest is so sensitive he almost cries at the feeling of his partners playing with it, and when he keeps getting told off by his packmates for 'snapping', even though he hadn't realised he was so pissed off.
He knows exactly when his heat hits, because he'll be struck by an almighty cramp that makes his guts feel like they're twisting around themselves, caught in a vice. Normally it hits during the night, when he's thankfully alone, but it's happened during the day, only a few times. He'd dropped to his knees and his packmates had been so concerned the first time that they carried him straight to the infirmary, just to be told that he was in heat.
Dew doesn't get horny during his heat. At all.
He used to, back when he was a water ghoul. Water ghouls are famed for their wetness (obviously) and Dew would somehow wreck even the waterproof sheets with how wet he would get during heats.
Nowadays, he still soaks through the sheets, but it's with sweat rather than slick. He has high fevers, above what is lethal for a human, burning up like a furnace as he lays in bed, surrounded by a puddle of sweat.
With the stomach aches he has, too, there's no question why he isn't horny. The pain gets so intense that all he can do some days is lay on his side in the fetal position, his arms wrapped tight around his waist, and cry. He doesn't want anyone up in his business when he's like this.
Swiss tried, once, just to see if it would ease Dew's pain. It did not. And he ended up with a slightly burnt cock for his efforts.
He's not very sociable during his heats. He prefers to lock himself in his room and deal with the heat alone, not wanting the pity from his packmates. However, his packmates always seem to come and sit by him anyways. Damn Sunny and her lockpicking skills.
Cumulus helps him sip at some broth when he has no appetite, then strokes his hair and holds the bin when the cramps get so bad that the broth comes straight back up.
Aether tries to use his quintessence on him, but it doesn't put a dent in the amount of discomfort Dew's in. He can't even get him to sleep with his quintessence when he's at the peak of his heat.
Cirrus offers a cooling touch with her air essence. She'll rest her hand on his forehead and his brows will relax, his glazed-over eyes drooping in pleasure as he cools down ever so slightly for the first time in days.
Mountain trims some herbs for Dew and strains them into a tea that Dew doesn't drink. He also offers companionship. He sits by the bed, on the floor, in complete silence, his pinky finger linked with Dew's. He knows that Dew gets headaches during his heat, and he knows that he wouldn't like to be talked at when he's in this much pain, anyways.
Rain helps with Dew's hydration. Dew has no appetite or thirst like this, but with the amount he's sweating, he needs to keep his water intake up. They figured out a few hears ago that Dew had small patches of skin over his body that hadn't quite transitioned to fire ghoul, where he could take in water through his skin. Rain holds his hands over these patches and transfers some of the water from his essence to Dew this way, to ensure he doesn't get too dehydrated.
Copia worries. He stands by the doorway, unsure if he should bother his little devil. Sometimes he goes in, only after Dew weakly calls for him. He sits on the edge of the bed, strokes Dew's hair, works out all the tangles with his fingers. Dew will hold onto his wrist tight, as if he's steadying himself against the way that the room spins. Copia tries to soothe him the best he can. He doesn't really know how to help in this situation. He absolutely hates seeing him in this much pain, they all do.
#ghost#ghost band#ghost bc#papa emeritus#headcanons#my works#headcanon#dew#dewdrop#cirrus#Cumulus#Swiss#Rain#Aether#Cardinal copia#Mountain#Whump#hurt/comfort
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New in Town
ok one last thing for the midwest emo ghouls since i was on a work trip last week and apparently wrote almost 1300 words on Phantom's arrival in town when i was bored in seminars (i don't think anyone's told that story so far?). one day i'll learn my lesson on handwriting in a notebook bc writing it up was a struggle
Rating: general
words: ~1300
cw:
Phantom stumbled into town on a Wednesday. As he stepped off the bus and landed in a puddle he wondered, not for the first time, if moving here had been a mistake. First of all, it was raining. He didn’t know why this surprised him, as it was approaching the Yuletide season in the sleepy Midwestern town he was hoping to call home. Secondly, he was cold. There was a biting wind blowing the rain straight into his face, and within seconds of stepping off the bus he was shivering and soaked to his skin. He hoisted his lone duffle bag onto his shoulder, and gripped his guitar case tightly. He could do this.
Squinting through the downpour and tossing his hair out of his eyes, he tried to get his bearings. He was supposed to be meeting someone in a Waffle House to collect the keys for the cheap and dingy bedsit he’d seen advertised online, that definitely wasn’t haunted (the irony of Phantom moving in wasn’t lost on him). He spotted the glowing lights a block down and across the road, and stepped out into the street.
When Phantom regained consciousness, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d gone and died already. That would be just his luck, on his first day of his new life. Although if he was dead, he wasn’t sure why he was met by a golden haired angel staring down at him. He was quite sure the door to that afterlife closed to him long ago.
Taking stock of the rest of his senses, he tried to make sense of where he was now. Still cold, still wet, and now also sore. On the ground. That felt more like what he should expect from the check-in desk in purgatory. His ears were ringing, the whoosh of static simultaneously deafening and silent.
The Angel had a panicked look on their face, slowly dissolving into one of anguish. Tears on their elegant cheekbones now mixing with the rain still falling. Raining, still? Phantom thought to himself. He guessed there were worse eternal punishments than a perpetual downpour though.
The static in his ears grew louder, and he started to pick out the sounds of someone crying out for help. The… Angel? … screaming? That seemed wrong. So did the way their golden halo of hair was staring to stick to their face in limp, wet clumps. Their voice sounded coarse, rasping, nothing like the pealing bells of a heavenly choir, unless said choir was in the habit of chain-smoking.
And the plaid. Phantom was pretty sure no angel wore flannel, in any century.
His brain gradually coming back online, Phantom began to suspect he was still alive after all. In fact, he had the distinct impression that he was both alive, and barely a foot away from where he had been walking before. Although he was horizontal now, prostrate on the wet asphalt in the shadow of a beat-up sedan.
Phantom was jolted out of his thoughts by the Possibly-Not-Angel, their sodden hair whipping around their face as they turned to yell towards the car, the source of the rumbling still echoing in his head.
“Rain!”
No shit. Thought Phantom. He was still coming to terms with not being dead, but even he could tell it was still pouring.
A second face loomed over Phantom. This one he was sure wasn’t an angel, despite their beauty and the intensity of the stare in their unblinking blue eyes. Angels didn’t wear beanies.
“What do we do Rain? Is he dead?”
“No, look at his eyes, he’s waking up.”
Phantom blinked up at the increasingly bedraggled pair, and tried to move his limbs. He was bruised, but pretty sure nothing was broken. The second voice spoke again, the sound smooth and melodic like a flowing river.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you until you were right in front of us. Are you alright?”
Despite how level their voice was, it was clear from the rapid rise and fall of their chest they were no less distraught than their now clearly human counterpart.
“Hi?” croaked Phantom, making to sit up. Two pairs of hands reached out immediately to support him, as he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position. Now he was feeling more lucid, he realised the pooled rain on the ground had seeped uncomfortably through his jeans, and he was colder than ever. Phantom clutched at the hand offered in front of him, the warmth making him gasp, before grasping it tighter as his frigid fingers absorbed the heat and he felt sensation returning to them. Cooler hands supported him from behind as he staggered shakily to his feet.
“C’mon, let’s get you out of the road”, the warm-handed stranger gently started steering him towards the kerb. The other bent down to grab Phantom’s bag and guitar, and together they herded him out of the road and into the relative shelter of the bus stop.
“Where are you hurt? Should we take you to the ER?”
“I- I’m alright I think.” Phantom smiled weakly, siting down on the bench and trying not to wince at the feel of the bruises forming across his side. Luckily ghouls healed quickly, he was sure he would be fine again after a day or so.
“Can we give you a lift somewhere?” asked the taller of the pair, gesturing towards the car still idling at the roadside with the doors flung open.
“I don’t really have anywhere to go yet, I’m new here. I just got off the bus.” Phantom waved a hand in the direction of the Waffle House in the distance “I’m supposed to be meeting someone to get an apartment key”.
“You have friends here?”
Phantom shook his head, looking up nervously through his eyelashes. “Looking for a fresh start.”
“Oh! Rain was in your position a few years ago!” interjects the other, “I’m Dewdrop.” He shook the hand Phantom was still gripping like a lifeline in a facsimile of a handshake. “I preach at the chapel out the west side of town. If you’re looking to get to know people here I promise we’re very welcoming.”
As he speaks, Phantom spots the upside down cross hanging from a rosary around Dewdrop’s neck and smiles shyly at him “I’d like that.”
Juggling Phantom’s bag and guitar to extend a hand to him, while snaking an arm around Dewdrop’s waist, the taller stranger still standing over Phantom waits for him to drop Dewdrop’s hand before introducing themself.
“Rain. Dew’s husband. I hope you settle in well, there’s a strong community here, particularly through the church.” He offers with a carefully measured smile back at Phantom. “You're sure you’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Phantom could already feel the acute sting of his injuries dissipating. He hoists himself back to his feet, and reached to take his guitar and duffle bag from Rain. He sent a silent prayer below that he had worn his bag on his left shoulder; both he and his guitar had somehow escaped mostly unscathed.
“Will we see you on Sunday?” asked Dewdrop, as he and Rain began heading back to their car.
“I’ll be there” Phantom nodded, Dewdrop’s answering grin making him more sure of this than any other decision he’d made in his move here so far.
“See you there then.” Just before getting into the vehicle, Dew leaned over to gently tap Phantom on the horns, which must have fallen unglamoured while he was unconscious. He smirked up at Phantom, with a conspiratorial look on his face.
“Might want to put these away in the meantime though.”
#this was such a fun creative outlet maybe the list of a dozen non-midwest-emo fic ideas might get written finally#midwest emo ghouls au#midwest emo ghouls <3#phantom ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#rain ghoul#the band ghost#ghost fanfiction#em writes#the band ghost fanfiction
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Hello, could I request dancing with Copia in the rain, perhaps after not seeing him for a while? Sorry if it's vague-
Aw, that's actually super cute! - Jez
Dancing in the rain with Copia (oneshot/drabble)
Copia was the kind of man that, despite the initial awkwardness, could bring people go him. They loved how sweet he was, how comforting his presence felt. You supposed it made sense why he was chosen as the next vocalist for Ghost. And then as the next Papa. And you were proud of him, you really were!
You simply hated the idea of him being away for so long.
He would call you every day, the sweetheart that he was. You'd talk about your day, ask how he has been, pout that he was so far away from you. And he'd tell you about his day, what weird stunts the ghouls pulled, ask about the rats that he left in your loving care and join in on your pouting, wishing you were there in his arms.
It was nice, yes. Laying in your bed, watching him on the screen of your laptop as he removed his facepaint. His words were sweet, very sweet. He had a way with words, once he got past the initial blockage in his brain. And even if he had issues speaking, you still thought his stimming was adorable. You'd mimic him playfully, which always made him feel better, less weird. You just wished he would be here, next to you, so you could kiss his hands. His face. So you could wrap your arms around him while you sat in his lap in just your little nightgown. So he'd hold you tight, nuzzling into your neck.
And tonight was the night. He would finally return. You didn't care that it was last midnight. You stood there, looking through the window next to the giant door to the Ministry, but you barely saw anything. It didn't matter that you were barefoot and only wearing the night gown you knew he liked and matching panties that he got you. It was warm outside. Or maybe it wasn't and you were just hot because of how excited you felt. In more than one way.
Finally, after what felt like ages of waiting, you heard the car pull up. You used all your body weight to pull the giant door open just so you could run outside and throw yourself into his arms as he got out of the car. You didn't care about the teasing chuckles from the Ghouls (most likely Swiss and Sunshine) or the soft coos at how adorable you two were (definitely Cirrus and Cumulus), you just wanted to kiss him again.
You didn't care that it was raining cats and dogs. That you were already soaking, even though you barely got outside. It was just an excuse to take a shower with the love of your life.
Once you finally broke the kiss, both of you started giggling like idiots. Aether probably made a comment about it, considering he got smacked in the head by Sodo hard enough to let out a dramatic whine. Finally mountain started chasing the other Ghouls back to then den to give you two some privacy as you just held onto each other and giggled.
You didn't realize when you started dancing, Copia happily twirling your joyful self on the grass and dipping you dramatically, like in a scene straight out of some cheap romance movie. Lucky for you, he loved cheap romance movie, so you ended up making out again.
"We should go inside, yes? Don't want you getting sick now that I'm back." He suggested, resting his forehead against yours as you both took a moment to catch your breath, his arms holding you pressed against him. You could swear you felt a soft poke in a very familiar area, and you loved that. You'd take care of it as soon as you were back in his room.
You only got to nod before you laughed again as he picked you up like a princess. You wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling at how he looked, his wet hair sticking to his forehead as he looked at you, his eyes filled with love.
For moments like these, you could survive all the tours and weeks apart. Just to see him look at you like this, when he finally got back.
#ghost band#ghost bc#ghost#ghost band x reader#ghost bc x reader#ghost x reader#ask#anon#copia#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv#cardinal copia x reader#copia x reader#papa emeritus iv x reader#oneshot#fluff
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1. Pairing: Mountain x Phantom x Swiss
2. AU setting up to you! (but phantom getting double daddy dommed is 👀)
So I ignored the game altogether and wrote a full ficlet because this idea made me go feral. Oops.
I also used your idea of Mountain having a secret burrow. (I think it was your idea?)
Phantom should have known it was a trick. From the smirk on Mountain’s face when he’d asked to the way Swiss giggled. He should have known that there was some ulterior motive, but he was just so excited to be invited to Mountain’s secret burrow that he had thought to think of anything else. He’s heard a lot about Mountain’s secret burrow in his short time on earth but the earth ghoul had to invite him to the wonders of his borrow. Until now.
Phantom was led on top of Swiss, who was led onto of a plethora of soft furs and pelts. He could feel how soft they were under his knees. He was led chest to chest with Swiss, both his thighs bracketing Swiss’ hips. He had his face buried in Swiss’ neck, the rich cinnamony scent was overwhelming for him but he couldn’t pull away, he was addicted to it. His cock was pressing into Swiss soft belly, hard and leaking, he could feel the smattering of Swiss belly hairs were soaked with his precum. Swiss’ own cock was pressed into Phantom’s hip, just as hard and leaking just as much, making Phantom’s hip wet and sticky.
Mountain was behind him, one hand on his ass keeping him spread open, three fingers buried deep in Phantom, crooking them just right to hit his prostate dead one.
Phantom writhes against Swiss, whining as his cock drags agains his belly. Swiss wraps his arms around Phantom's waist, pinning down and stopping him moving.
“Be a good boy and stay still. Let Mountain open you up for us.”
Phantom whines into Swiss’ neck, trying to roll his hips back into Mountain’s fingers. Mountain brings the hand that was resting on his ass down hard, the sound echoing around the small tunnel they’re in.
“Be patient, Phantom. You don’t want it to hurt do you?”
“No.” Phantom chokes out into Swiss’ neck, almost in tears already. Mountain pushing a fourth finger in along side his other’s.
Swiss presses a kiss to his cheek, moving one hand from his waist to run his fingers though his hair.
“Good boy.”
Mountain looks over Phantom’s head to speak directly to Swiss.
“I think he’s ready now.”
Swiss hums.
“Who gets first use?”
Mountain scoffs at him.
“Me. I did all the work opening him.”
“I kept him still! Without me it would have taken double the time it did.”
“Woooow you did the bare minimum, keeping one of the smallest ghouls still, how would I cope without you?” Mountain deadpans, glaring at Swiss.
“You know I could argue with about this even longer, or we could both use him at the same time?” There’s an evil glint in Swiss’ eyes when he says that.
Phantom, who had been quiet the whole time they argued, moans, pushing his ass up.
Mountain laughs, running a hand over his ass.
“Think out little play thing likes that idea.”
Swiss laughs, running his hands down Phantom’s back.
“You want that, baby? You want two fat cock splitting you open?”
Phantom whimpers, lifting his ass up even more.
“Please. Please, daddy. What it so bad.”
Mountain leans over him, running the head of his cock over Phantom’s hole.
“Yeah? You want the two of us using your tiny little hole? Stretching you open so you’ll be ruined for anyone else that wants to use you?”
Phantom’s doesn’t respond, just gargles into Swiss’ neck, feeling tears well in his eyes.
Mountain let’s the tip of cock catch at his rim, and pushed in slowly. He pushed at the middle of his back, making Phantom arch his back even more so Swiss has the opportunity to push in as well.
Mountain was big enough on his own, the street has of him was enough to make it burn in a way that had Phantom feeling it for days after, but as he feels Swiss pushing on alongside of Mountain he feels all the air get punched out of his lungs.
They both bottom out at the same time, making all three of them groan in unison. Phantom has never felt so full in his life, the burn is incredible, he can feel feel it all the way down his legs, making them go tingly and warm.
“Ah fuck.” He thinks it’s Swiss that groans.
“He’s so tight, fucking hell.”
Mountain moves, pulling out almost all the day before pushing back in.
“Fuck.” He laughs. “I can feel your cock against mine.”
Both Swiss and Phantom moan at that, Swiss’ hands gripping at Phantoms hips and he thrusts his hips upwards, deeper into Phantom.
Phantom can’t even moan as they both start thrusting in unison, using him as they both want. He drools into Swiss neck, unable to close his mouth.
“D-daddy.” He manages to stutter out.
“Who you saying that too, babyboy?” Swiss whispers into his ear.
“B-both! Both.”
Mountain leans back over him, making all both him and Phantom moan as he manages to get even deeper.
“You like having both your daddies use you at the same time? Like getting your pretty little used and Destroyed?”
Phantom’s hips buck, his back arching even more into both of their touches.
“C-cum. Daddy-gunna, I’m gunna-ugh-oh.”
Swiss groans, his head rolling back against the furs.
“Fuck, I’m close too, he’s clenching so tightly, I don’t think I can hold it off any longer.” Swiss groans again, his claws digging into Phantom’s hips. “Can feel you are too, big boy. Can feel your knot pressed up against mine.”
Mountain pants, gripping at Phantom's thighs, spreading his legs even more.
“I can’t help it, like you said he’s so tight.” He moans throwing his head back as he does.
“Think you can take two knots, babyboy? Think you can take even more?”
“Yes! Yes-whatever you want- I need-I’m gunna cum. Please, please let me.” Phantom’s whole body shakes as he desperately tried to hold off his orgasm until he’s told he can cum.
Both ghouls get three more thrusts in before Mountain gives the order.
“Fuck, Swiss, now-now. Fucking cum in him, knot him with me.”
That was all it took for both ghouls to cum, filling Phantom up completely as they cum, both knots getting forced into him.
Phantom whites out as he feels himself being stretched in ways he’s never been before, he clenches around both knots, making both ghouls moan. He thinks he cuts, he’s shaking like he did, and he’s sticky, but he has no recollection.
When he comes back to reality, he’s on his side, face buried in Swiss’ chest, with Mountain spooning him from behind. They’re both pressing genital kissed all over him, whispering kind praises at him. He sighs, sinking even deeper into both their embraces. He doesn’t feel like talking yet, he’s not sure if he even can yet, so he closes his eyes again, letting both ghouls comforting words wash over him as he drifts off to sleep. The ache in his ass was a problem for later.
#thanks for the ask <333#ficlet#the band ghost#ghost headcanons#mountain ghoul#nameless ghouls#Swiss ghoul#phantom ghoul#ask game
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First of all, I really like your fics about phantom with ocd
Can you write something about him having a REALLY tough time with his ocd and maybe even some comfort from Swiss or Mountain?
Maybe he’s so up in his head and kinda stuck in his thoughts and tries to refuse comfort?
And big thanks in advance if you write something
-Anon
Hi! Thank you!
And of absolutely course
TW: Crying, Mentions of Nightmares, a couple cheek and head kisses, trying to make it seem and act ok when your not, overthinking, panic
Characters: Phantom, Mountain and Swiss
As ok as anyone could be
Phantom sniffles quietly and hides more in the pillow to muffle up the quiet sobs
It's been a really long day...well a long week at that
They went to the store and he kept tapping everything, he tried to keep it minimal but people noticed and were looking at him
They had a meeting with the other churches and the masks felt too tight and too loose at the same time
Maybe it was just his mind running and him getting overstimulated
But today has been hard since he got up
As soon as he woke up his body was sore from tossing and turning all night from nightmares and not being able to sleep and his face was sticky from the sweat and the tears from not being able to sleep and the nightmares
Maybe the nightmares has a point
Maybe he was too much, too annoying, too loud
A burden
He didn't deserve the love the pack gives them if he just brings them down all the time
And here he is proving his point as his eyes begin to get glossy with tears
He quickly wipes his eyes and sits up slowly
He sniffles and takes a deep breath before standing
His head a bit dizzy and vision a bit blurry from tears
He begins to walk to the bathroom but first of course he has to do the compulsion Ritual
He sighs and taps his dresser twice with both hands then once with one hand
He taps the bed twice with both hands then quickly rushed to the bathroom before he finds something else to tap
He gets to the bathroom and quickly closes the door then looks at himself in the mirror before letting out a quiet groan
He taps the door knob twice then taps the wall three times then the other wall twice
He makes a small click noise with his mouth twice then he sighs quietly as he finishes for now
He turns on the water and cups it in his hands then puts it on his face
He splases the water on himself about 5 five times before turning it off then shaking off his hands
He looks at the sink knob and the towel, debating on which one to touch first
He lets out a small whine in his throat as his mind tells him something bad gonna happen either way
He stands there looking like a wet cat for a few seconds before finnaly just getting the Ritual over with
He takes a small and light deep breath before tapping the knob once with both hands then patting his face dry with the towel
His ears twitch as he ears knocking on his bedroom door and a muffled voice
He thinks it's just his mind, no one would or should actually care to look for him anyway
As soon as he finishes patting his face he hears his bedroom door open
He tenses as he realizes it wasn't his mind messing with him
"Hey Bug you in here?" He hears Swiss's voice from the other side
He takes a deep breath and shakes his hands slightly to try and calm down some of the anxiety
"Yea, just a minute" he says back as mind mind begins to run 10 times faster and he tries to calm himself down
Swiss looks at the door concerned and confused
He feels that something's off, a high spike in anxiety and sad energy
Though he thinks that could just be a false alarm or him just thinking that since he can't sense energy that good due to him not being a full earth or Quint ghoul
Phantom wipes his eyes and takes another quiet deep breath again
He opens the door and forces a smile
"Hey Swiss, what do you need?" He says with his voice breaking slightly
Swiss raises an eyebrow and looks at him
"Oh I just came to tell you that Cumulus and Aroura made cupcakes, though I don't know how many are left, cirrus and Dew kept sneaking some out" he says with a small laugh
Phantom chuckles, not surprised by Cirrus and Dew being cupcake thiefs
Then Swiss looks at phantom with a small smile to offer some comfort
"hey bug? I'm not trying to be an intruder and please tell me if I'm crossing anything here but are you ok? You've been in your room almost all day and the energy around here has been..off"
Phantom tenses, not liking or expecting this conversation again
He doesn't like talking about it, well it feels good to talk about it and get it off of his chest but he also really doesn't like putting the weight on his shoulders on to others
It shouldn't be their problem, he shouldn't be their problem, they have their own life, they should be worrying about his
"no I'm ok" he says with a forced small smile
Swiss raises an eyebrow and hold his hand out
"I know that's not true bug, what's wrong?"
Phantom tenses and avoids eye contact
"No really swiss! I'm fine, it's just been...a long day" he says, his voice breaking slightly towards the end, he hugs himself to provide himself a small bit of comfort
Swiss looks at phantom and opens his arms, letting the ghoul decide if he wants a hug or not
Phantom glances at Swiss, desperately wanting a hug but his mind telling him that he's being weak and that he doesn't deserve it
Phantom let's his heart win over his mind and falls into Swiss arms
Swiss hugs him tightly and Phantom finnaly lets his body win and let's himself cry into Swiss's shoulder
Swiss kisses his head and rubs his back as he lets the younger ghoul let everything out
He's just glad he was there to catch it
After a few minutes Phantom calmd down a bit and they move from standing to sitting on the bed
Stray tears fall down his cheeks as his mind continues to run
"I don't deserve this" he whispers out with a sniffle
"you don't deserve what, bug?" Swiss asks quietly
Phantom sniffles and looks up at Swiss
"anything, I-i don't deserve any of this" he says quietly with his voice cracking from the tears
Swiss looks down at him and pets his hair gently
"why don't you deserve this? You deserve the world Ant"
Phantom shakes his head and his breath hitches
"no.. I'm annoying, I'm a burden, I'm always keeping you guys behind or p-pulling you all down with me, you all have your own problems, you don't need to worry about mine" he whispers about with a sniffle, not even realizing he's saying what's on his mind
"i-im a bad ghoul, Swiss" he says as tears begin to fall again
Swiss looks down a phantom in surprise then gently and carefully makes phantom look up at him
"hey, we don't talk about ourselves like that, you wanna know something?" Swiss says as he waits for phantom to look him in the eye
"what?" Phantom says quietly
"you are the most special and fun ghoul I've ever met, in no way at all are you ever a burden or annoying, we all have our own wants and needs and that's perfectly ok, you can't keep trying to fight your thoughts alone, bug, you have us to help you now, and if you think your ever a bother then that's wrong, you always have us, got it?" Swiss say while gently cupping Phantom's face and wiping his tears
"g-got it" Phantom says with a last small sniffle
"good"
Swiss smiles and kisses his cheek and Phantom laughs
"now, how about you go get comfortable and I message mountain and ask him to bring us some tea and we'll watch the nightmare before Christmas again?" Swiss raises an eyebrow and smiles
"yes please!" Phantom says excitedly, jumping up to go get into his pajamas
Swiss laughs softly, happy that everythings ok now and texts Mountain
A few minutes later Swiss and Phantom are on the bed with phantom laying between Swiss's legs with his back to Swiss's stomach and swiss playing with Phantom's hair
"hey here you go" Mountain says softly as he hands mountain and Swiss their tea
"thank you" Phantom says with a smile as he takes a drink
"thank you Mount, wanna watch nightmare before Christmas with us?" Swiss says looks up at mountain with a smile
Mountain looks at them then at the tv
"you both are welcome and scootch" he says with a chuckle as he sits joins on the bed with them
Eventually the night falls and Phantom falls asleep on Swiss's chest and Swiss lays his head on Mountain's shoulder
"Long day?" Mountain asks as he runs his fingers lightly down Swiss's shoulder
Swiss shrugs
"Yea, for him too" Swiss says, leaning down to kiss phantoms head
"hes ok now?" Mountain asks with a soft smile
"as ok as anyone could be" swiss says with a smile before leaning up to kiss mountains cheek
Swiss leans his head back on Mountain's shoulder and mountain leans his head on top of Swiss's and they fall asleep peacefully on top of eachother
<3
#phantom ghoul#mountain ghoul#swiss ghoul#ghostband#the band ghost#Ghost#Ghost bc#ghost band fanfic#the band ghost fanfiction#ocd#stars#beelooved writes#ocd phantom
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Holding the Face before a Kiss? :)
This turned out longer than it should have :'D
Word Count: 1124
No warnings, just fluff and a wee bit of angst. Ghoul reunions can be emotional times, especially for Aether who misses his pack dearly.
Aether paced back and forth in the main hall, growing all the more anxious. He kept checking his watch, groaning at how the time was slowly going by. They were supposed to be here any moment now. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of this before losing his cool.
“They’ll be here soon, Aeth. They just got picked up at the airport thirty minutes ago,” Sunshine chimed from the sitting room. She had just started a fire and was laying before it.
“I just wanna see them now,” Aether replied, wringing his hands together while going to one of the windows to look for any signs of the buses.
It was dark and rainy out. He would have loved this on a regular night, but he didn’t have the rest of his pack with him. He didn’t have Dewdrop to cuddle up with. The past few months had been hard on him. Sure, he was able to text and video chat with him and the rest of the pack, but he needed them all around. There was a near constant ache in his chest every day they were apart. Even though he had Sunny, the kits, and several other ghouls around to keep him company, he still missed his pack mates dearly.
Even watching videos from their current shows wasn’t enough. He wanted more than anything to have gone on this tour, but he had his duties in the church along with Sunshine. He wanted to protest, but these were direct orders from Sister Imperator and he knew better than to question her authority.
“Come sit by the fire, Aeth. It’s nice and warm and Dewdrop will have something nice to see whenever he gets here,” Sunshine cooed.
That was a tempting offer. Aether did enjoy spending more quality time with Sunshine over the past few months. The ghoulette always found ways to cheer him up when he was missing the rest of his pack and he was able to cheer her up when she was feeling the same way.
Aether was about to turn and join her when he noticed headlights outside. He chirped, perking up as he ran to a window, his face pressing against the glass as he watched the buses approach. His eyes went wide before he laughed in relief. They were finally home!
“They’re here!” He cried out.
He could hear activity around him as several siblings came out from different doors to come out to the main hall. They chattered excitedly and Sunshine was by his side in a moment. Heat emanated her as she bounced in place eagerly.
“Places everyone. Let’s do this quick so the equipment doesn’t get too wet,” Sister Imperator announced as she brushed past the ghouls to open the main doors.
The biggest bus had stopped before the church and the door opened. Aether stepped out into the rain, grinning from ear to ear when he spotted a weary Copia coming out with his suitcases in hand.
“Welcome home, Papa! We missed you!” Sunshine exclaimed, rushing forward and pulling the man into a big hug. Copia grunted and tried to hug her the best he could while still holding the suitcases. A sibling came forward and took his suitcases for him while briefly welcoming him back.
“Ah, buonasera, Sunshine. It’s so good to see you, mia cara,” Copia crowed, petting the top of her head.
Sunshine pulled away from the hug. She was practically glowing with joy now.
“It’s good to see you, Papa. I hope traveling hasn’t been too hard,” Aether said, pulling the old man into a hug. He made sure to relax him with his quintessence.
“It was, but we’re home now,” Copia said, patting him on the back.
Copia pulled away from the hug and went to talk with Sister Imperator who was waiting in the doorway with a warm smile. Aether watched him go for a moment before happy cries suddenly filled the air. He whipped his head around just in time to see Sunshine embrace Cumulus. Cirrus and Aurora quickly joined the hug, all four of them chittering and purring happily amongst themselves as they showered Sunshine with kisses.
“We missed you guys so much!” Cumulus cried out. She pulled away from the hug to rush over to Aether and hug him. Aethe eagerly hugged her back. He missed how fluffy her fur was.
“I missed you guys too,” Aether murmured, giving her another squeeze before letting her go. She returned to the pile of ghoulettes who continued chattering nonstop amongst themselves.
Aether turned his attention back to the bus just in time to see Dewdrop step out. He looked absolutely exhausted, but upon seeing Aether, a smile lit his features and he dropped the backpack he was carrying to rush into his arms.
“Oh, Firefly,” Aether said, realizing just how small the fire ghoul was when he held him. Months being separated were surely taking a toll on him.
Dewdrop was warm. So much more warmer than Sunshine.
“I missed you, big guy. I had to share my bed with the new guy on some nights. He ain’t you,” Dewdrop grumbled, nuzzling his chest before looking up at him with eyes full of adoration.
“I missed you too, babe. Each day was empty without you here,” Aether said while lovingly cupping his cheeks. Dewdrop closed his eyes in pure bliss, leaning into his touch. His cheeks were scratchy from stubble, but he absolutely did not give a shit. He loved everything about his beloved fire ghoul. Purring, Dewdrop wrapping his arms and his tail around his middle. Aether did the same with his tail, not wanting to let the smaller ghoul go anytime soon.
“Now kiss, you two,” Swiss’s voice crowed from the bus.
Aether grunted, looking over at where the multi ghoul was standing in the bus doorway. He was smiling his signature smile while Rain and Mountain loomed behind him, watching on with knowing smiles.
“He wouldn’t shut up about kissing you,” Mountain chimed.
“Is that so?” Aether questioned, his gaze back on Dewdrop who smiled up at him sweetly.
“That’s right. It’s been months and I really need to kiss you right now,” the fire ghoul said before pulling him into a tender kiss. Aether eagerly kissed him back before picking up the smaller ghoul bridal style. Dewdrop giggled into the kiss and deepened it, his tail entwining with his while he wrapped his arms around his neck.
“Fuck, I missed you, big guy,” Dewdrop moaned into the kiss.
Aether smiled, eager to spend the rest of the night with him and the rest of the pack. He wasn’t going to let any of them go anytime soon, especially Dewdrop.
#the band ghost#ghost band#ghost bc#nameless ghouls#nameless ghoulettes#aether ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#sunshine ghoulette#papa emeritus iv#papa copia#fanfiction#ghost fanfiction
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Mushy May - Day 4
Prompt: First Kiss
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Aether/Rain
Contains: hurt/comfort, anxiety, a panic attack, first-time glamouring, Rain having a Bad Time and Aether making it better
Word Count: ~3k (lmao what am I doing)
Summary: Rain feels like he's drowning. Aether helps him surface.
“It’s a lot to get used to,” Dew had told him a week ago, holding out a pile of black fabric, “you gotta practice while you can.”
He’d offered to help. To teach Rain how to breathe properly with his gills glamoured, how to cope with the added restriction of their stage costumes. Rain, prideful thing that he is, had refused. Of course he had. Had shrugged off Dew’s words and waved away the offer of help. He was certain he could manage on his own - he hardly planned on using his full glamour anyway, so what was the point in practicing? Besides, if Dew could do it then so could he. Dewdrop had given him a withering look, followed by a scoff.
“Whatever, wet boy. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Rain had dismissed him with an exaggerated eye roll, returning to the very important task of filing his claws, and had promptly forgotten about the whole affair.
Until now.
Because now, huddled in a damp corner of their venue’s shower room, Rain finds himself thinking the unthinkable:
I should have listened to Dewdrop.
Everything feels too close, too tight. This form, this woefully human shape he’s been forced to take, brings with it an unexpected, crushing pressure. The uniform doesn’t help - it’s all skin tight, the fabric scratching at every inch of him. He feels flayed open, pink and raw; it’s visceral and wholly unsettling, but the vanishing of his gills is far and away the worst part.
Rain paws at his own chest, tugging the knot of his tie in an effort to relieve some of the pressure. His mask and balaclava sit across the room, tossed away the moment he’d managed to get his shaky fingers to cooperate. It’s only been a few minutes since he stumbled his way in here, drawn by the presence of water and the oddly comforting scent of mildew, but Rain feels like he’s been suffering for years.
He can’t stop trembling, clutching his knees to his chest and fighting the razors in his throat. Clawing with his stupid, blunt, human nails at the places his gills should be - the sides of his neck, the ridges of his ribs. Trying to force them open again through his shirt, to rip away the binding magic trapping him in this sorry state. Gasping. Choking. Suffocating.
Satanas, he’s fucking drowning.
He’s drowning and it’s his own damn fault.
It shouldn’t be this bad. Nothing should be this bad. But from the moment Copia had said that incantation, had bound all of the ghouls to these horribly restrictive forms for the night, Rain hasn’t been able to catch his breath. Dew’s words swim though his head in a vague whisper of regret, one that Rain tries in vain to shake off. It only makes him dizzier.
There’s a call from somewhere outside the attached dressing room - twenty minutes til soundcheck - and it does nothing to help the tightness in Rain’s chest. His lungs ache, his throat burns, and his heart feels like it’s about to crash right through his ribcage. The edges of his vision are darkening already, and he can’t tell if it’s from the hot tears gathered in his lashes or a lack of air. Maybe both.
He’s going to die here. He knows he is. Tucked into a tight ball in some dingy shower, alone and terrified, on the night of his first ritual. The others will find nothing but a pile of damp clothes and the stink of sulfur, their water ghoul having discorporated and vanished back to the Pit. There’s no way around it.
Rain hugs his knees and whimpers, feeling the knife between his ribs dig in deeper. He’s panting now - shallow, desperate hiccups of air. They’re all he can manage as the walls close in on him. The crushing weight of his own foolishness slams against his skull - he swears he can hear it, a hollow echo. Like distant footsteps on cold stone. Rain’s eyes slip shut, the tears begin to fall, and all he can do is wait for his lungs to give out.
“Rain?”
He jolts at the voice - a distant, low rumble that he doesn’t recognize. Do ghouls have a grim reaper? A being sent to collect their infernal essence and return it home? Is that who’s calling his name? Rain doesn’t know, and he doesn’t answer. He can’t. His voice went with his ability to breathe.
“Rain, where are you?”
It’s like he’s underwater. The voice is so foreign, lilting and accented in a way he can’t place. But it’s…soothing, somehow. Familiar, like a comfortable piece of clothing. He wants to lift his head but finds it immovable. Filled with cement. Those echoing footsteps in his head grow louder with each passing moment, and as his consciousness fades Rain swears he feels himself being lifted.
The next thing he feels is…warmth. It’s so warm. He’s so warm.
“Rain?” A warbling echo at the edge of his mind. “Can you hear me?”
There’s a weight on his chest, but it’s…different than it was before he felt the world slip away. Steady pressure, gentle, running the length of his sternum. It’s wonderfully grounding, puts him so at ease that he nearly forgets why he was so -
Rain’s eyes fly open and he sucks in air like a man starved, great gulps of the stuff that make his throat ache all over again. He thrashes, arches against the pressure on his chest and finds it doesn’t give. Rather, it holds him steady, keeps him pinned to - is he on a couch?
“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” It’s that voice again, the one he somehow both did and didn’t know. “You’re okay Rain, I’ve got you.”
Whoever it is, he finds it easy to believe them. Rain blinks as he catches his breath, clears the wet haze from his eyes. He doesn’t know what he expects to see, but it certainly isn’t a water-stained ceiling. At length he manages to turn his still-heavy head to the side. When he does, he’s met with a silver mask...and a pair of familiar lavender eyes.
“Ae…Aether?” The name comes out raspy and worn, like Rain had been screaming. The other ghoul nods, and Rain realizes that the pressure on his chest is Aether’s hand. His shirt is unbuttoned, and that large, callused palm feels heavenly against his clammy skin. “What…how…”
“The Cardinal sent me to get you for soundcheck,” he explains, eyes scanning Rain’s face. The accent is fascinating, but now that Rain knows who he’s hearing he can pick out the familiar timbre of Aether’s usual voice. “Found you in the bathroom, pale as anything.”
“Couldn’t breathe,” Rain manages after a few moments, clearing his throat with a wince. “Couldn’t…without my gills, I -”
“I figured as much,” Aether murmurs. Rain gives the other ghoul a quizzical look, and Aether cracks the tiniest smile. “This happened to Dew too, the first time. Didn’t he tell you?” Rain stares at him, wide-eyed.
“What did?”
“The panic,” Aether says gently. “You had a panic attack, Rain.”
Rain blinks at him.
A…a panic attack? No, that wasn’t right. That couldn’t be right.
“No,” he murmurs, brow furrowed. “No it - it was the binding spell. It…it took my gills and I-”
“It did, yes,” Aether confirms, canting his head. “But you’re breathing fine without them now, aren’t you?”
Rain blinks again, finally taking full stock of himself. Of the rise and fall of his ribcage and the now-steady thud of his heart, and finds that he can’t argue. His chest still aches, but it feels more like muscle strain and less like breathlessness. It feels like the almost pleasant burn that follows his lengthy swims in the abbey’s lake, or one of his more energetic romps with Swiss. Rain brings a hand to his throat, just to be sure, and Aether laughs through his nose.
“See?” Aether pats his chest, a reassuring gesture. “Just fine without them.”
Silence blankets them, and it gives Rain time to think. He hasn’t spent a whole lot of time with the ghoul before him in the months since his summoning. Not for lack of wanting - he likes Aether, (very much, if he were to be honest), but with the hectic nature of pre-tour life there hadn’t been much of a chance to…connect. A few shared meals, a handful of fleeting touches in the common room - ones he revisited in the comfort of his own bed - and one very close call on the tour bus were all Rain had to show for his interest.
So yes, he does like Aether. More importantly, though, he trusts Aether. The other ghoul had earned it with his calm demeanor, the way he carries himself, the way he treats others. They all rely on him, even the Cardinal. That’s probably why he’d been sent to fetch Rain in the first place - Copia knew he would actually do it, not just sneak off in an effort to shirk their duties. If it were any other ghoul, Rain would simply wave off the idea of what he’d just experienced being something as paltry, as…human, as a panic attack.
But it isn’t another ghoul. It’s Aether. Aether, with his kind eyes and soft smile. Aether, with his broad body and gentle nature. Aether, who is currently rubbing slow circles into his warming skin. Rain realizes in a delayed sort of way that the ghoul’s other hand is in his hair, scratching lightly at the place where his horns should be. He wants to purr with it, but it comes out as a deep hum instead. Aether chuckles.
“I’ll take that as a sign that you’re feeling better,” he murmurs, and Rain can’t deny that he’s right. He rests a hand on top of the one on his chest and gives Aether a shy nod.
“Yeah,” he huffs, voice still strained, “some.”
“Good. Do you think you can sit up?”
Rain isn’t sure he wants to. Aether’s hands feel so nice, his presence so calming, and Rain doesn’t want to lose either one. Voices in the hall bring him back a bit, though; right, he has a job to do here. He heaves out a harsh exhale and nods, giving Aether’s hand a squeeze. The other ghoul sits back on his heels and Rain sighs at the loss of his touch. He braces himself and forces his body upright, grunting with the effort of swinging his legs over the edge of the couch.
The pain hits him all at once.
“Oh, my fucking head,” he groans, hunching and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Shit.”
“Headache? Dew had a nasty one too.” Those large hands grip his wrists and give a coaxing tug. “You’re only going to make it worse doing that,” Aether chides. “Here, let me help.”
Rain isn’t sure how he can, given the fact that he’s pretty sure there’s an ice pick lodged in his brain, but he obliges. Allows Aether to bring his hands down and rest them on his own thighs. The other ghoul nudges his shoulder and Rain reluctantly raises his head, finding Aether knelt between his splayed legs. The sight sends a swoop of something entirely inappropriate through his belly, and Rain tries his best to ignore it. It’s hard to do when Aether cups his face with both hands, rough thumbs dragging over his cheekbones. The other ghoul gives him a smile and Rain swallows hard.
“Try to relax, alright? This might feel a bit…odd.”
Rain blinks owlishly, opens his mouth to speak, but the words die on his tongue as a wave of hot pressure fills his sinuses. It travels up behind his eyes, fills his ears and skull, wraps around his brainstem and trickles down his spinal cord. It only lasts a few seconds, and as the sensation fades Rain finds every bit of pain and lingering discomfort fading right along with it. He feels lighter than air, dizzy in a way that plasters a dazed look on his face.
“There we are,” Aether coos, pulling his hands back. “How’s that? Better?”
“What was that?” Rain hardly recognizes the syrupy sound of his own slurred voice. Aether lets out a soft snort, resting his palms on Rain’s bony knees.
“Just a little something to take the edge off,” he says with a wiggle of his fingers. Rain finds himself entranced by the way Aether’s rings glint in the low light of the room. “I can’t do much beyond pain relief in this sorry state,” Aether gestures at his own glamoured body, “but that should at least be enough to get you through the ritual.”
Rain offers a slow nod, but he isn’t really focused on the words. His - well, everything, really, has gone fuzzy. Pleasantly warm and tingly, like he’d been wrapped in an electric blanket. He feels…safe, he thinks is the word for it. Anchored in a way he certainly wasn’t before Aether had rescued him from his breathless spiral. That seems like a distant memory now, a blip on the radar. All he can feel is a delightful buzz in the back of his head and the grounding weight of Aether’s hands on his knees.
“Rain? Are you still with me?” The ghoul blinks, refocusing on the masked face before him. He nods again, gaze bouncing between those stunning lavender eyes and plush lips.
Those lips…
“Yeah,” he breathes, gripping his own thighs, “yeah, I…I’m…”
He probably shouldn’t be staring at that unbearably pretty mouth. Shouldn’t be imagining how Aether’s chapped lips would feel on his. What he should do is say thank you. Tell Aether how appreciative he is of his help, of his care. He should say it and offer a handshake, or maybe a hug. Something small, but still affectionate. Something he won’t regret once the fuzziness in his brain fades.
He doesn’t mean to lean in. Not really. He shouldn’t, no matter how much he wants to. No matter how much he’s wanted to for the past few months.
But, well, he is leaning in. He’s leaning in and Aether isn’t pulling back. In fact, Rain’s pretty sure he’s tilting his head. Making space. Angling himself so his mask isn’t in the way and oh fuck he’s really going to do this.
When they kiss, Rain’s mind goes quiet.
It isn’t long. Isn’t deep or wet or messy. What it is, is wonderfully simple - a humble, chaste meeting of the lips. Short and sweet and somehow completely, utterly perfect. Rain pulls back just enough to let Aether see the enormous grin he can feel splitting his face, and to his delight the other ghoul returns it.
“I was wondering when we’d get around to that,” Aether says with amusement, squeezing Rain’s knees. Rain huffs out a laugh.
“Me too,” he admits, “maybe not quite like that, but I’m not going to complain.”
“Neither am I.” Aether’s smile is devastating, wide and bright. “But as much as I’d like to carry on, I’m afraid we’ve got a job to do.”
Rain sighs, nodding - he’s held them all up long enough. He busies himself buttoning his shirt and tries not to mourn the loss of Aether’s hands when the other ghoul wanders over to one of the vanities on the far wall. He doesn’t have to mourn for long, though. Only for the time it takes for Aether to fetch his discarded tie, mask and balaclava. Rain eyes them with more than a little trepidation, his stomach giving a weak flip. His discomfort must be obvious - Aether lays a hand on his shoulder and holds him steady.
“It’s alright,” he promises, sitting at Rain’s side. “Let me help.”
Aether is so very gentle with him. So much so that it makes Rain blush. He talks through everything he does - knotting Rain’s tie, sliding on his balaclava, tucking back his hair. Aether checks in on him with every step, and Rain doesn’t think he has enough words for how grateful he feels. There’s still an edge of unease settling in his chest, but it’s nothing he can’t handle.
Aether tells him about how things went with Dew the first time he’d had his gills glamoured. Tells Rain that he needs to have a talk with their newly minted fire ghoul about ways to cope so the panic doesn’t rear its ugly head again. Rain promises he will - his own pride isn’t worth the black hole in his chest.
“There we are,” Aether remarks with one final tuck of a particularly stubborn curl, “well done.” Rain could chirp at the praise, and at the way Aether’s hand lingers on his cheek. “Last step,” he adds after a moment, “and I think you should do this one.”
Aether holds up his mask, and Rain tries not to cringe at the very obvious scuff across its right cheek. From where he’d tossed it on the ground, he imagines. Hopefully it’ll buff out. He accepts the offering with a small nod and raises the mask to his face, stretching the straps to slip it over his head.
“Oh, hang on,” Aether says suddenly, and Rain looks over at him just in time to watch the other ghoul slide his own mask up with a thumb. “One more thing.”
Aether leans in and kisses him for real this time - lush and full, unyielding. Rain drops his mask in favor of grabbing hold of Aether’s square jaw, luxuriating in the feel of the other ghoul’s lips on his. It’s over far too soon, but the glimmer in Aether’s eye when he pulls away is full of promise.
“For good luck,” he lilts, and Rain goes warm all over. Aether fixes his mask, Rain slips on his own, and together they stand. Aether gives Rain’s tie one final adjustment before nodding, giving his chest a pleased pat. “Now let’s get going before they send in the cavalry.” Rain nods, fiddling with the end of his tie.
“Thank you,” he says softly, the words long overdue. “For everything.” Aether hums and takes hold of Rain’s hand, thumbing over his knuckles.
“My pleasure,” he croons, and Rain would do anything to kiss him again. But for now, that will have to wait.
For now, the feel of Aether’s hand around his own is enough.
#miasma's work#the band ghost ficlets#mushy may#rain ghoul#aether ghoul#aether/rain#aether x rain#this is just a full fic at this point#panic attack tw
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“Here, you can have mine.” Jaskel, please 💕
thank you for the prompt! I love it!
word count: 1690
AO3
Jaskier's shirt was plastered to his chest and Eskel was not looking. If he had been anyone else, it would have been different. Everyone always looked their fill of the bard and Jaskier didn't seem to mind, but with Eskel it was different. Jaskier had said so himself, one summer evening years ago, when they had both taken off their sweat soaked shirts. Jaskier had slouched his shoulders lazily, hadn't tried to make his body look more appealing - not that that was necessary or even possible - and then he had thanked Eskel. Thanked him that with him, he didn't have to make himself into something desirable. The implication had been clear. Jaskier saw him as a dear friend he could trust, but certainly not someone he would ever consider taking as a lover.
So Eskel wasn't looking. He kept his eyes on Jaskier's face, though that proved even more dangerous. His damp hair was curling at the ends and some droplets were still dripping down the strands and onto his cheeks. Eskel had to clench his hands into firsts to stop himself from reaching out and wiping then away.
"Look at this!" Jaskier lifted the wet sleeping bag up and pulled a face. "I get that the drowner pulled me into the water, but couldn't it wait until I had let go of my sleeping bag? It's going to take forever until this is dry again."
Eskel swallowed the words that were fighting their way up his throat.
We can share mine, he wanted to say. I can hold you at night and keep you warm.
Instead, he said, " Here!" and tossed his own bedroll to Jaskier, who struggled to catch it but managed to do so eventually. When he gave Eskel a confused look, Eskel shrugged. "You can have mine."
"Don't you need it?"
"I'm good. I don't mind sleeping on the ground. Besides," he threw a glance at their surroundings. "I should probably keep watch. Make sure no more drowners show up."
Jaskier frowned and for a moment it looked as if he was going to protest, but then he set the bedroll on the ground without another word.
Eskel didn't find any sleep that night. But the next day, when Jaskier handed him his bedroll back, it smelled like ink, lute wood and lavender and that was better than a full night of sleep.
--
Eskel stared at the plate in front of him. He should count himself lucky, he knew that the innkeeper had given him any food at all. Still, his plate had barely been half full when he had received it and now it was already empty. Judging by the growling and painful twisting of his stomach, so was Eskel's belly. He scraped uselessly at the crumbs left on his plate with his fork.
Jaskier, who was sitting opposite of him, frowned. He looked at his own plate, which was still laden with potatoes, bread and some vegetables. His scowl deepened and he pushed his plate toward Eskel.
"Here," Jaskier said, "You can have mine."
"What?" Eskel's stomach did a flip. "But you -"
"I'm not the one who has to fight some ghouls later. You'll need your strength. I'm full anyway."
When Eskel hesitated, Jaskier snatched up some of the bread and held it up to Eskel's lips.
"Eat something," Jaskier said softly. "Please."
Eskel, weak as he was, complied.
--
"I am an empty shell of a man," Jaskier lamented dramatically and dropped the book he had been reading onto his face. "A fool and a doomed soul."
"What's wrong?" Eskel asked. With his finger he marked the page he had been reading and looked to Jaskier, who was lying next to him amidst the flowers.
"Valdo Marx. That's what's wrong."
"Of course." Eskel's lips twitched upwards. "What has he done this time?"
"He asked me to proofread his newest poetry collection and it's just so bad . I cannot read a single sentence more or I'll lose any poetic ability in my possession."
"Then don't."
"Yeah, but I don't have any other book with me, I'll be bored."
Eskel snorted and rolled his eyes fondly.
"Here," he said, took another look at the page he had marked to remember where he had stopped reading and handed it to Jaskier. "You can have mine."
"What, really?" Jaskier perked up. "But you have been talking about this for weeks! You were so excited to read it!"
Eskel's cheeks began to glow and he had to look away. At the tip of his tongue lay the suggestion that Jaskier could simply read it to him. But that would be too intimate and it would only solve half of Jaskier's problem. So instead, Eskel snatched up Marx' book.
"I'll read this instead. Let's see if I can give Marx some criticism."
He pretended to be immediately engrossed in his new reading material, though he felt Jaskier's gaze burning into him. After a while, Jaskier began reading. Still, Eskel found it hard to concentrate, as every once in a while, Jaskier let out little laughs or gasps as he read. Out of the corner of his eye, Eskel caught sight of him reading. Maybe finishing this book could be a reason why they should travel together a little longer. And maybe, once they inevitably parted, they could write each other letters, discussing the book. It wasn't as good as getting to hear Jaskier read it to him, but it was pretty damn good nonetheless.
--
"This really isn't the right festival for people with allergies." Jaskier let himself fall onto the bench beside Eskel. A bead of sweat ran down his temple and his eyes were alight with joy. "You never think about how hard it is to dance while wearing a flower crown. Let alone three. Those things are really difficult to balance."
Eskel rolled his eyes goodnaturedly.
"Maybe if you weren't so charming, people would stop giving you all those crowns."
"You think I'm charming?"
Eskel choked and flustered as he was, he failed to explain himself any better than, "I mean… people think you are. I assume. Or else they wouldn't give you the flowers, would they? I mean. Not that I don't think -" with a groan, he broke off and covered his face with his hands.
Thankfully, his rambling didn't insult Jaskier, who merely laughed and nudged Eskel in the sides.
" Don't worry," he said lightly, "I know what you mean. I would say the people have good taste, but - where is your flower crown?"
Eskel snorted at the absurdity of anyone giving him such a token of affection.
"I don't have one." He tried to make it sound as if he didn't care, but even as the words left his mouth, they tasted bitter.
Jaskier stared at him, his brow set in a determined frown.
"Here," he said and pulled one of the crowns he was wearing off his head. It was the one with little blue blossoms that had almost the same shade of blue as Jaskier's eyes. "You can have mine."
Eskel's heart skipped a beat.
"Really?"
"Of course. It's not right that you don't have one. You're handsome and generous and kind. Why wouldn't I give you a crown?"
Because of what comes after, Eskel didn't say. There was no need to make this uncomfortable. Maybe Jaskier had forgotten about the tradition and Eskel wouldn't hold him to it.
Slowly, he took the crown from Jaskier snd placed it on his head.
"Beautiful," Jaskier whispered. He pushed the crown a bit higher up, so that no leaves would tickle Eskel's forehead. His hand came to rest on Eskel's cheek and before Eskel had time to ask what Jaskier was doing, Jaskier was leaning in and brushed his lips against Eskel's scarred cheek. It wasn't quite the kiss tradition demanded, but it still left Eskel stunned. Jaskier cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Alright then," he said with a strange smile. "Guess I'll leave you to it then. Happy Belleteyn."
"Happy Belletyn," Eskel echoed, but Jaskier had already disappeared back into the dancing crowd. Only the memory of his kiss lingered in Eskel's skin.
--
It took Eskel a while to find Jaskier. Instead of mingling with some folks at the bar or singing in the middle of the room, Jaskier sat at a table in the corner, away from any prying eyes. In front of him stood a concerning amount of empty tankards. In his hand, he was gripping another one.
He had deep bags beneath his eyes and his tousled hair looked as if he had spent the past hour running his hands through it.
"Jaskier."
At the sound of Eskel's voice, Jaskier looked up at him with bleary eyes.
"Oh. You're back." Jaskier tried for a smile, but it was shaky and his eyes were glistening.
Eskel frowned, uncaring of the way the expression tugged at his scars. As gently as he could, he pried Jaskier's fingers off the tankard and held his hand.
"How can I help you?" he asked, lost for what else to do. "What is wrong?"
Jaskier gave him a long strange look that slowly wandered to their linked fingers.
"Nothing," he eventually said, so softly that Eskel would have missed it, were it not for his witcher hearing. "I just lost my heart."
Eskel's blood turned cold. He had seen Jaskier fall in and out of love so many times, but this was different. Normally, Eskel's heartbreak at least meant that he got to see Jaskier laugh and smile and have that beautiful shine in his eyes when he talked about his paramour. Seeing Jaskier like this, so miserable in his love felt like his chest getting pierced by a blade. Eskel wanted to help, wanted him to be happy.
Here , his foolish hope was screaming at him to say, you can have mine!
But that wasn't the heart Jaskier wanted, even though it had been his for years already.
So instead, Eskel gave his hand a helpless squeeze. With a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, he said, "Yeah. Me too."
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