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x-reader-theater · 9 months

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Unexpected Kindness

summary: While rushing through the Ministry to complete a task for Sister Imperator, Swiss scares you, and is unexpectedly kind to you.

pairing: Swiss Ghoul x Gender Neutral!Reader

category: Gen

word count: 1,413

warnings: There’s some suggestiveness in the story but nothing described. I’m thinking of making this a series that will be explicit, but there’s nothing like that yet.

Disclaimer: This story is using the fan interpretations of these characters ONLY. No real people are being used in this. I have no problem with real person fic, but I know some people do, and so I wanted to make a disclaimer for those people.

a/n: i just really like Swiss, okay?

You were walking through the halls of the ministry, a stack of books in your hands as your footsteps echo down the empty halls. There isn’t another member of the clergy that’s out at this hour, with how early it is in the morning.

That is, except Swiss.

You feel something long and leathery dip into the back of your pants and untuck your shirt. You feel the flat spade-head of a tail press into your bare lower back, and you jump, the books you’re holding dropping from your hands as they land on the ground with a loud THUMP that echos.

“Mother fucking Satan!” you exclaim with a hand over your heart. The tail that is around your waist tightens and you’re pulled into strong arms.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, little one,” he says into your ear. His mask, which he and all other ghouls are required to wear by Sister Imperetor, knocks against the side of your head, one of the tubes off the side squishing.

You scoff and push Swiss away. He doesn’t fight to keep you next to him, but his tail continues to stroke up and down your back. “What do you want, Swiss? I’m busy.”

You look over your shoulder and see him grin, his white teeth blinding against his dark grey skin. “I was lonely,” he says, grin becoming roguish and flirty. “You were just the first I saw…”

You roll your eyes and bend down to pick up the books that were dropped, but you just drop them again when you feel that tail slink out from underneath your shirt and swat at your backside. You yelp and turn around, glaring at him as your books drop again. “I have a hard time believing that you just happened to be awake at 6am,” you say, vitriol in your voice. You pick up the books once more and stand again, this time out of reach of Swiss’ wandering tail. “Besides,” you say, hugging the books tighter to your chest, “I don’t sleep with Ghouls. We’re not allowed.”

Swiss starts walking towards you, slinking forward, and you step back, matching him step for step, until you back hits the wall. Swiss keeps walking forward and when you shrink down, trying to get away, he places an arm above your head. You swallow as he leans in, and you can see his red eyes behind the tinted lenses of the mask.

“Just not allowed? Do you want to?” he asks quietly.

You swallow again, frozen in place, eyes boring into Swiss’ lenses, his strong arms bracketing your head, and you grip the old leather books tighter in your hands. You eyes dart down to Swiss’ exposed lips, and Swiss’ smile widens. He begins leaning in, slowly, like he’s giving you a chance to escape. But, like a deer in headlights, you’re frozen. Even your breath is frozen in your lungs. You can feel Swiss breathe against your lips, his breath smelling faintly of sulfur, but that you’ve heard tastes like the most addicting drug one could get their hands on.

A door slams down the hall and both your heads swivel towards the noise. You take the opportunity to slip out from underneath Swiss’ arms and hurry down the hall away from him and towardsyour goal. Your actual goal, not a fantasy goal.

But you running away from Swiss doesn’t actual deter him at all, and he jogs to catch up to you. He swivels himself so he’s walking backwards in front of you, a grin peaking out from underneath his full lips.

“Where are you going?” he asks slyly, hands clasped behind his back.

“To Sister Imperetor’s office,” you say, tilting your chin up slightly as you try and walk faster to get past Swiss. He doesn’t take the bait however and just moves beside you, keeping pace, his steps in perfect sync with yours.

He lets out a low whistle, “Figures she would have you working all night,” he says. “Mind if I join you? Just to walk you there, nothing else, I promise.”

You slow down, thinking on it for a moment. You haven’t been very close to any of the Ghouls, but Papa Emeritus always seems so close and they all seem to like each other more than anyone else. They seem like they have fun, which is something you’re sorely lacking right now.

“Okay,” you say slowly, suspicious of Swiss’ intentions but willing to be open.

The ghoul grins widely and his steps become less in sync with yours, a bounce added to them.

The two of you walk together through the Ministry in silence, just enjoying each other’s company as your footsteps echo off the stone of the hallway. You feel Swiss’ arm brush against yours every once in a while as you walk, but he doesn’t go further. In fact, it almost seems like every time he brushes your arm he takes a few small steps to the side, but always ends up right next to you anyways, like magnets, always drawn to each other.

Eventually, you come to the door to Sister Imperator’s office, and you both slow to a stop. Swiss stops in front of you, and you smile at him, going to reach for the handle, but Swiss’ hand on your elbow stops you. The grip isn’t hard or strong, but gentle, something you haven’t seen from Swiss before now.

“[Y/N]… after you drop these books off, you should tell Sister that you need sleep,” he says, voice soft and gentle. “You know how she pushes the other siblings of sin.”

You stare at him with wide eyes, before nodding slowly. He smiles, a closed mouth smile so different from his typical cocky grin. He squeezes your elbow and begins walking off further down the hall. You smile as you watch him go down the hall and disappear around the corner. You open the door and walk into Sister Imperator’s office with a small smile on your face.

She’s sitting at her desk, her severe face and tight bun helping her look as strict as she is.

“Was that Swiss?” she asks, still looking down at the work she’s doing on her desk.

You nod. “Yeah. He walked me over here,” you explain, your smile getting dreamier.

She doesn’t stop working as she cuts through your words. “Stay away from him. The ghouls are not meant for you.”

Your smile drops, your body tensing. “Yes, Sister,” you say, even tho your body fights against it. You clear your throat. “I have the books you requested.”

“Good, yes,” she says, waving a hand in the air. “Put them over there on that table.”

You do as she asks and set the books down on the table she gestured to with a loud slam. She doesn’t seem to notice however, still working on whatever the hell has her so busy all day.

“Sibling, I need you to go to the-”

“Actually, Sister,” you interrupt, biting your lip as you wait for her to say something. She doesn’t. “Uh, I’ve been awake for over 36 hours and haven’t had time to rest. I am asking for some time off, just enough to sleep, and then I’ll be able to help you once again,” you say, succinctly and professionally.

Sister Imperator finally stops working and looks up at you. “What a disappointment,” she says, making eye contact with you. “I gave you this position so you could show me that you were ready to move up in the Ministry, but I can see that my faith was misplaced.” She leans back in her chair and steeples her fingers in front of her thin lips. “Since you seem so attached to the Ghoul's, I’ll make you their newest handler.” Your eyes go wide but you're unable to say something as she continues forwards. “They have no sense of time and are always late to services and rituals. Maybe I'll give you a second chance if you do a good enough job.” She leans forward in her chair once more and goes back to working on whatever is on her desk as she dismissively says, “Go fetch Sister Reinhardt. Maybe she won't disappoint me.”

You nod and turn to leave the room, giving one last look back at Sister Imperator before finally leaving her office. You sigh at what happened but you can't help but be a little excited for what’s coming next.

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negativeyield · 1 month

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this bad begins (5613 words) by negativeyield

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Ghost (Sweden Band)Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Swiss/Original Ghoul Character(s) (Ghost Sweden Band), Everyone/Everyone, Rain (Ghost Sweden Band) & You, Aurora/Phantom (Ghost Sweden Band) Characters: Swiss (Ghost Sweden Band), Dewdrop | Sodo, Rain (Ghost Sweden Band), Aurora (Ghost Sweden Band), Mountain (Ghost Sweden Band), Cumulus (Ghost Sweden Band), Cirrus (Ghost Sweden Band), Aether (Ghost Sweden Band), Phantom (Ghost Sweden Band), Cardinal Copia | Papa Emeritus IV Additional Tags: Swiss (Ghost Sweden Band) Is a Little Shit, Polyamorous Ghouls (Ghost Sweden Band), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Worldbuilding, Penis In Vagina Sex, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Enthusiastic Consent, Friends to Lovers, multi ghoul lore, Swiss is Not Okay, there's more minor relationships than tagged, but lets just assume everyone be fucking, Sexual Tension, Sweet Aether (Ghost Sweden Band), quintessence lore

Summary You are a new multi-ghoul summoned for Ghost's upcoming tour. Since you haven't been topside in a while, Swiss helps you get your elements under control… but as you grow closer, you figure out he's been keeping an important secret from the rest of the ghouls.

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ethereal-maniac · 2 months

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#the band ghost #ghost band #for you #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #swiss army ghoul #swiss army knife #swiss ghost #swiss ghoul x reader #simping #ghost bc #meme #ghost band meme #ghesties

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swiss-mrs · 28 days

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Can you write a second chance a love with SY. He and reader were exes and tension has built up where he can’t help but kiss you and profess that he still misses you. Thanks!

Second Chances

Captain Syverson x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Mentions of Failed (Military) Relationships, Mentions of Fighting/Regretted Words Exchanged, Slight Sexism/Toxic Masculinity/Trad Views, Self-Doubt, Slight Depression, Sy is Able to Lift Reader, Angst with Happy Ending (As Requested)

Reader/Unnamed OC Description: No Physical Descriptions, No Mentions of Race, Height, Weight, Ethnicity, Etc., Age is 25+, Sy is 35+, No Use of Y/N, Only You/Your Pronouns, Mentioned as “darling" and "beautiful", otherwise gender neutral.

Life is… fine. Wake up. Go to work. Come back home to your apartment. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. There wasn't really anything to complain about, but there was a notable loss. The only thing is now you're just used to it.

In the beginning, it was always the little things, someone passing with a similar cologne, a specific food brand at the grocery store, a familiar street you no longer pass by as often. Eventually, the watery eyes tamed to a pang in your chest. Now, it's all just numbness. Even with friends, your smile makes appearances again, but the happiness doesn't quite reach your eyes the way it used to. It's been so long, they just stopped mentioning it, but you still notice the occasional pity look.

It's a crazy thing to think about how you've lived more of your life without him than you have with him, but that doesn't lessen the effect.

You'd survived your childhood, your teenage years, and early twenty-something without him. After meeting the most handsome man you'd ever laid eyes on, you'd be foolish not to reciprocate his advances. Though you shortly had your skepticism after finding out his occupation, he was quick to assure you he was no quick trip, and ultimately, you caved.

And he for sure had you, for years in fact. He had you completely believing every one of his ‘I love you's and ‘forever's, yet here you are, missing the way he'd fill up the space in your life.

You'd had a life before him, a decently fulfilling, single life until he showed up and screwed that all up. He wasn't necessarily your first ‘love’, but he was definitely your first ‘true love’. And, now, you were feeling the effects of that loss.

The first thing that hit you after your split with Sy was anger, pure reactivity to how everything ended. How dare he call you ‘too much’. How dare he try to pull the whole ‘you signed up for this’ bullshit. He had the audacity to make every problem your problem. Fuck him for making your ‘forever’ just another failed military love that should've known better.

You were soon to block him, not wanting to hear any of his ‘I'm sorry's or ‘can we talk's. You'd already talked, talked a little too much. You were done. ‘Let it die’ was your mantra for months. He ruined you, had you looking in the mirror different. You couldn't talk to anyone, express yourself, ask for help, be vulnerable without seeing it as annoying, dramatic, ‘too much’. Maybe, it was just you?

You took it upon yourself to change, distance yourself, drift away. Was it just you? No one made a comment about how they suddenly heard from you less. Were you really too much?

For a long while, you wished he'd cheated, abused, something, anything to make you hate him. Could you really hate him for it? You didn't work out. That's not his fault. He didn't understand you, and a couple of rude words weren't nearly enough to hate him. He was ultimately a good guy. He was never unfaithful, never would even dare to think of laying a hand on you, but when it was all said and done, he was a bit neglectful. But, how much of that was him, and how much of it was his job? Oftentimes, it was hard to distinguish. Too often was it an excuse.

Did he love you? sure. Could he have loved more? yes. Too often did it feel like he was one-sided. You were there for him, not the other way around. You are his, not the other way around. You needed him, not the other way around. And to have that shoved back in your face when you brought it up was not the right reaction. He shouldn't feel like an animal cornered when you brought up a concern, something he did that hurt you, but he did. A valid point shouldn't be shot down or argued with counterpoint, but it was. Now, you can only second guess yourself, and that shouldn't be how it is, but it is.

You loved too hard, that will haunt you. He loved too little, and that will forever haunt him.

He hated himself. You were everything he ever prayed for, a beautiful partner with a beautiful smile and a beautiful soul, someone he could have forever. He didn't realize that the thought of ‘having someone’ was wrong of him. He was selfish. You never did anything but show him your heart, your mind, and he blew it up in your face. He destroyed something, someone so beautiful. A day hasn't passed that he wasn't filled with regret. He couldn't even smile or laugh anymore. He became scary.

He'd lost the one piece of true happiness in his life, and it was his fault.

He craved you. He needed you, but he was too late. Why couldn't he have realized what he had sooner? Appreciate you like you deserve. Love you like you deserve. He knows he has it in him, but he just couldn't. fucking. see. it. He wants to kick his own ass for it. He desperately wants to turn back time, go back with the mindset he has now, or at least beat it into his past self.

He'd gotten too damn comfortable being in the military. Vulnerability is weakness. Why would he use his words? Why think about anything, decode? Feelings are best buried. He's a man's-man, and a man only needs to protect and provide

He believed that ideology never gave him issues until you. You challenged that ideal. You asked him for his thoughts, his feelings. You wanted to know. You cared. It annoyed him. Why the fuck would he care? Sure he had thoughts and feelings somewhere, but he pushed them down. Why bring them back up? You surely had too much time on your hands to be concerned with what he was thinking. You wanted connection. He knows that now, but what is that going to do for him now?

He immediately felt the effects of your absence. He was deployed when you left your shared home. He watched you leave on the security camera, car packed to the brim. Sure, he had felt a type of way about it then, but then he was only apologizing for the sake of it. He was just another man in the wrong. Apologize to your upset partner, make up, and move on, but oh, was it so much more different now.

He was filed to the brim with remorse. Even then, he had visions of your shared future, retiring or climbing ranks to settle in one place, building a family, a home, preferably on a large, secluded plot of land. How he looks on with different eyes at that ‘future’ now. He never truly believed in all that ‘grass is greener’ ‘know what you have ‘til it's gone’ B.S. until he'd lost you. He gets it now.

It wasn't until that switch was flipped for him to realize you blocked him, excommunicated. He was gone so much that he never got a chance to build any sort of relationship with your friends. It irritates him now that he is probably known as just the shitty military ex. The closest thing he has to you is a friend of a friend of his who is a friend of a friend of yours. At first, he'd rather die than try to reach out to you that way, but now, there was no line, no bridge he wouldn't cross to just get one more moment with you.

He'd been stewing on it for the last year and a half. You'd moved and blocked him. It seemed utterly hopeless to reconnect, but something came up recently that has him itching again.

He's been promoted. A good job, good position, and in one place. It was perfect. The start of your ‘forever’ together. The only thing missing is you. Friend of a friend² be damned. He had to fix this, and just his luck to find you. Just your luck to be found.

It took several minutes for you to lay eyes on him, but he spotted you immediately. The second you walked through the door of your new favorite café, he saw you. He couldn't believe it. He originally pulled himself into this place because it simply reminded him of you. It had you written all over it. He felt closer to you here. He wouldn't have guessed you would just walk in like this. His eyes followed you as you stood in line and ordered.

He noticed you glance around the café briefly and still not spot him seated at a back table facing the exit. His heart raced, seeing your eyes wander before going to your phone. He knew that look, though. You were only fidgeting with it, trying to make yourself look busy to avoid any social awkwardness. It made him grin as he stared longingly. There were some things that didn't change.

It had been a whole two years since you last saw Sy, about eight months since you stopped seeing him in every stranger. You weren't going to back track now, so you stared down blankly at your phone to keep yourself from staring at the familiar looking guy in the corner. He was missing a thick beard and a shaved head, but with a quick glance, he looked an awful lot like heartbreak.

Sy knew he was on borrowed time, the chances of you sitting alone in any kind of restaurant was slim to none, and considering you weren't looking for seating meant you were grabbing and going. He had to think of something and fast.

His body was standing, and his feet were moving before his mind could catch up. It wasn't until he was about two feet away that he stopped and started panicking. You noticed the man standing in your peripheral, but you kept your head down to avoid any awkward eye contact. That was until your name fell from his lips, causing you to look up from your phone.

“Sy?” Your eyes widened and your brows furrowed together. Your heart immediately started blasting in your ears. You couldn't breathe. You'd thought about running into him again, about all you wanted to say to him, telling him off? apologizing? But that was before your move, before you forced him out of your mind. Now, you were face to face with your anxiety and dreaded nightmare. Your name was muffled from his mouth and to your ears the second time.

“Hi. How have you been?” He wanted to punch himself in the face for how casual that came out, but he quite honestly couldn't think of anything better to say without falling over his own words. He awaited a response from you, but you only stared like a deer in headlights.

You genuinely couldn't hear a word coming out of his mouth. Was he talking? He had to have been. His mouth was moving, but it was like his voice was muffled. Something you assume was your name came out again before your name was called a bit louder by a different voice behind you.

You whip your head around to find a perky barista with a drink in hand, looking in your direction. You scurry over to her and take your drink with a curt thank you, as polite as you can muster in this moment. Without even a second glance, you're making a rushed escape for the exit. Your name is called again, but you're tunnel visioned on the door out.

Sy's stomach tightens and drops at the sight of your flee, but again his body is in full control at this point. He's utterly in shock. He didn't know what to expect, but this was his chance. All he knew is that he couldn't let you leave, not again, so this time, he chased after you.

As soon as you're out the door, he's right behind you, having to catch the door from slamming on him. He calls out for you again, but you don't stop, so he keeps running.

It's once you're passed the café windows that he finally catches up. He reaches to grab for your arm but quickly changes his mind to just step in front of you instead. “Wait! Please, darlin’, wa-”

“Don't call me that.” He's taken aback by the sudden words but retracts nonetheless.

“Please. Wait.” It was at this point that you both have fallen silent that you get a good look at him. His hair has grown out of its ‘tactical buzzcut’ and into a pretty generic cut that was redeemed by the dark curls atop his head. His beard was now trimmed down to only some scruff and a mustache. It was an odd combination of seeing him with more and less hair than usual, but he was just as handsome as ever, unfortunately.

The pause between you both was long. Though it should be awkward, it was also strangely comfortable or rather empty. Being in each other's presence again was like putting on an old hoodie. It was cathartic and familiar, but the memories, the history, was hard to get passed. Your name falls from his lips again, a lot softer and barely there. Your eyes were trained on his face, unable to look away. His were downcast.

“I… I….” His eyes close as he takes a deep breath in an attempt to gain some composure. His bottom lip juts out a bit as his mouth tightens into a little frown. “Please, I need to talk with you.” He opens his eyes, encapsulating your gaze in his.

The sight of his eyes outside of your memory is enough to empty your brain of any thought, so you remain silent. But he needs an answer from you, so he waits.

“What is there to talk about?” You say. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you built walls that weren't there before, and it shakes him to his core. He did that.

“A lot.” He sighs, huffing out a singular humorless laugh through his nose. His face briefly quirks like it wants to give a smile to match the short laugh, but the overwhelming weight of the situation at hand just won't allow for it.

You stare up at him for a few beats of silence, both of your chests tight with anxiety. You've never seen him so close to breaking down. He's never seen you so blank. Neither of you really knows what to do, but eventually, your eyes fall from his face before you walk passed him.

Sy freezes. The world around him simultaneously crumbles and halts. His breathing completely stills. You don't get five steps away before you turn back and call after him, “You want to talk. I'm not giving you another chance to do so.” You say, expecting him to follow you. As soon as the realization hits, he moves with haste. He's beside you walking before you're even done turning back around.

It was a good two blocks before Sy spoke up. “How have you been?” He tries again, looking over to you as you walk.

“Fine.” You answer curtly. It makes Sy frown again. It's the kind of ‘fine’ you'd give a stranger, and he hates that that's what you've become. He feels a bit shut down but continues. This is his chance.

“Well, that's, um, good to hear.” He states, but the end of the sentence inflicts an upward tone, almost into a question.

“I wasn't for a long time, but now, I'm fine.” You add, and it's the hardest punch in the gut Sy has ever received. His jaw clenched as he nodded. He swallows, trying to carefully choose his words, knowing how much each one counts.

“Darlin-” He cuts himself off by correcting it to your name. He sighs again, “Please, genuinely hear me when I express how sorry I am.”

“I'm sure you are.” He glosses over your response, continuing.

“Look, I know I've said it before, but, in all honesty, I didn't-” He cuts himself off again, making sure he words it correctly.

“Didn't mean it?” You finished, a bit annoyed.

“No.” He's quick to correct, “I meant it.” He says, determined, “I knew that I had made you upset, and I knew to apologize for it, but I didn't really know the meaning behind it.” He admits. “I didn't understand.” He confirms what you already know. “I was foolish. Stuck in an old way.” He pauses with another frown. “I didn't understand why you wanted to dig into me. I didn't understand that you were only trying to connect with me, really connect. I got defensive. ” He looks up from the ground to your eyes with a sad, guilty look, like he's confessing. “I was stupid and didn't believe in sharing every part of me with you.” He slows his pace, forcing you to match until you're stopped in front of him.

You're facing each other as he continues with his confession. “I thought doing so would make me less of a man, but I understand now.” He gives you a quick, little, sad smile before it disappears into a guilty frown. “I understand that it was an integral part of strengthening our bond, our love. You'd show me every part of you in return for me doing the same, and we'd accept each other, every part.” He gives another sad smile that breaks your heart all over again. He looks down shamefully with a hard look on his face, “I understand now.”

You look at him with a sad pout. Half of you wants to give him a piece of your mind. Two years!? It took all that time to just now fucking realize what you were asking of him!? But the other half didn't know how to feel. What is he trying to do? Redeem himself? What.

“So that's it? You just wanted to give me an actual apology?” He can see that your walls are still up. He fixes his jaw.

“Yes, but,” He starts. He knew that you weren't going to just fall into his arms, but he still hoped it would be that easy to just pick up where you left off. He sighs with his eyes closed, this time shakily, nervous. It confuses you as you've never seen the Captain Syverson nervous. “I've been…” He stops short, pausing. Jesus, you never thought you'd see the day this immovable mountain of a man revert to a reprehensible kid. “I know we can't pick up where we left off, and I kind of don't want to,” He tries again, this time getting a confused and slightly offended expression from you, “but can we, maybe, start over?” He looks at you with the most hopeful, pitiful puppy eyes you've ever seen, another thing you never thought you'd see from him.

The air forcefully leaves your lungs as all the progress you've made through the years to try and make yourself impenetrable leaves with it. Your chest tightens as you try to will the upcoming tears away. It's your turn to let out a humorless laugh. You shake your head, looking off into the distance, “You really hurt me, Sy.” You look back at him with the most heartbreaking expression. He nearly looks close to tears at the sight. “I'm too much. I'm needy. I expect too much.”

“No, no, no.” He stops you, stepping closer only to get you retreating from him. Your step back drives the heartbreak further into his chest. He shakes his head in utter disagreement, a disgusted grimace on his features. “You're not. You're. not. I was foolish and childish, and I was not ready for you.”

“But you're ready now?” You interject in disbelief.

“Yes,” He states firmly without hesitation. He steps up again. This time, your body visibly tenses, but you don't move away. “I'm more than ready. I need you.” He takes another smaller, gentler step forward. “I hate that it took you leaving for me to see that, but I do.”

“Sy-”

“Please. Please. Don't say it's too late. Don't say we can't try again. Please, just one more chance.” He looks down abruptly like a private who just got caught looking at a superior officer. He's begging. He knows how he hurt you and your trust. Like a dog showing its belly, he's trying to show you his submission. Ultimately, it's in your hands, but he's determined.

You stare at him while trying to decipher the mess in your mind. “Sy.” You say a bit more calmly. His demeanor doesn't change. You sigh, “How do I know you wouldn't just fail back into old habits? What if, even after all this, you just repeat the same closed book bullshit? What's different?” You try to find his eyes, but they remain downcast as he stays still.

“I've been promoted.” He states a bit detached, poorly stating fact, anything you want from him. “I'd no longer be in the field, no longer deployed. I'd be in one place.” He purses his lips into another right frown. “It's the start of what we used to talk about.” He says, words laced with hope and nostalgia. “Remember?” He tests, voice as soft as silk. Your eyes sadden even more, looking down with a miniscule nod. “I can settle down. Stop putting myself in the line of fire every day. I'd come home to you every night, wake up with you every mornin’.” His eyes soften as they peer up at you through his dark eyelashes. “Get that dream house.” He raises his brows with soft eyes and a sigh of a grin.

“Sy.” He quickly follows with your name before you continue. The gentle way your name rolls off his tongue makes your heart race at a concerning rate. “I,” you sigh, “I can't just run back to you after all this time.” You scoff out a sad laugh.

“So, let's just start with a date.” He tries again softly, melting your heart in your chest. “No pressure, no expectations, just one do-over.” His eyes flutter softly as his eyes return to their submissive downcast. “A reintroduction to the people we've become. A second first date.” He concludes. You can't help but let out a soft giggle, skinny trying to hold yourself together. Though it's sad, Sy has never heard a more beautiful sound. His chest swells with hope.

It takes time for you to make up your mind, and he gives it to you. Your everything was already screaming at you to say yes, but you couldn't let him know that, so you took your time. “Okay.” You cave. Sy's brows shoot up, and his face breaks out into a huge, mouth agape smile. The image of pure overjoyed surprise.

He can't help himself but close the distance between you and scoop you in his arms, twirling you around, with a victorious laugh. The shock of it all and contagious joy causes you to let out a small giggle. He looks up at you in his arms and drops you down enough to plant a kiss on your lips. Though quick, the kiss was filled with nothing but longing and love.

As if realizing what's happened, he's quick to gently set you back down and take a step back, returning to the same distance you were at prior. He is a bit awkward with his hands before setting them on his hips. He still has a bright smile on his face, “I,” he huffs, “You have no idea how you've just made me the happiest man to ever exist.” He tries to just quickly move passed what just happened. “So, could I, maybe, get your number?” He says, trying his best to contain his joy.

You laugh, admittedly a little awkward. “It's the same one.” You fidget, “I can, uh, I'll unblock you, as long as you have the same number as well, I mean.” You stumble. He nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, it's the same one.” He sighs, content. His eyes are filled with admiration and adoration, like you hung the moon and stars single handedly. It was everything you ever wanted from him to see his love within him.

You quickly pull your phone out and unlock his number on the spot. “There.” You shoot him a quick text. Even after all this time, his tagname never changed in your phone. You hear his phone ding moments later, and he pulls it out with an even brighter smile and a sigh of relief. He never thought he'd see your name pop up in his notifications again. Once again, it's always the little things that are missed.

“Are you free this weekend? Friday night, maybe?” He asks. You give him a small smile and a nod. “Great! Great, I'll- I'll pick you up? We can get dinner after work and…start over.” He sighs. He's both a little sad and over the moon. He wants nothing more than to do a quick catch-up and just start pouring his love into you, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. You give another small smile.

“I can't wait.” You say. He nods curtly. “You can tell me all about your new job.” His face brightens at you, showing interest in him again. He steps forward to stand beside you, holding out his elbow.

“Let me walk you to your car.” You breathe out a small chuckle before hooking your hand in his elbow, taking back to the café parking lot. Just a few paces in, Sy leans in closer to you to whisper in a low tone, “I know we're going to go slow, but I just want to say… I missed you.” You look into his deep blue eyes before looking down at his mustached lips.

“I've missed you too.” You whisper back with a small smile.

The remainder of the work week, Sy was notably different, even getting some teasing comments from coworkers. Your friends tried tearing into you, asking why you suddenly looked like the life returned in you, but you kept your lips sealed. You were taking things one step at a time with Sy.

The most anyone got was “I have a date.”

____

I hope you liked it! Thank you so much for the request, Anon! I hope I did it justice. (sorry it took so long. I've been a bit under the weather😅)

Masterlist

Swisslist (General Taglist): @rosecentury @solacedthistest

#captain syverson fic #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #captain syverson x you #captain syverson fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #swiss fics #captain Syverson swiss fics #Henry cavill swiss fics

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miasmaghoul · 3 months

Note

sooo.. how do we feel about swiss fingering transdew in the passenger seat

"Why me?"

Swiss tilts his head, spinning a heavy set of keys around one finger.

"Why not?"

Dew raises an eyebrow, gestures at the guitar in his lap, the papers spread out on his bed.

"Oh please," Swiss scoffs, pushing himself away from Dew's doorframe and striding into his sunlit room. It's a gorgeous day, early spring, the sweet scent of the rose gardens wafting in on the breeze. "You're tellin' me you'd rather practice than go for a joyride?"

Dew snorts, crossing his ankles and adjusting his beat up old acoustic. It's true that he's been at it for a while now, since just after breakfast, but this solo has been giving him shit and he's determined to nail it before their next group session.

"I don't think taking Sunny and Lus to the grocery store counts as a joyride."

Dew strums out a few chords while Swiss flops into his desk chair, leaning it back onto two legs. It creaks under his weight.

"Maybe not," Swiss concedes, unbothered, "but you could still come keep me company."

"What, the girls not enough for you?"

"They would be," Swiss replies with a shrug. "If they didn't spend every trip making out in the back seat."

Dew snorts at that - Swiss has a point, Sunshine and Cumulus are not ones to keep their hands off each other in any context. Still, he grumbles.

"C'mon, Sparky," Swiss goads, scooting his chair closer so he can rest his elbows on the mattress, propping his chin in one hand and prodding at Dew's knee with the other. "Don't make me beg."

"But I like it when you beg."

Dew throws Swiss a wink, and Swiss reciprocates with his best puppy dog eyes. Big and wet and completely irresistible. Dew sighs, throws up his hands in mock defeat.

"Fine, fine," he grumps, setting his guitar on the bed. "But I'd better get something outta this."

Swiss grins, delighted. Pats Dew on the thigh as he stands, shoving the chair back under the desk.

"I'll tell Lus to buy that spicy jerky you like," he offers, and Dew gives him a little ooh.

"The cheese too," he insists, shuffling to the edge of the mattress and reaching for his boots. "The one with the habaneros."

"Yeah, yeah," Swiss chuckles, heading for the door, "but warn me before you eat it, I'm not sleeping with you on cheese night again. I learned my lesson."

Dew hurls a pillow at him, and Swiss scampers into the hall with a boisterous laugh. The little ghoul works on lacing up his boots, and makes a mental note to never tell Swiss when it's cheese night.

Twenty minutes later they're on the road, and as the breeze blows through his hair Dew wonders why he was so reluctant in the first place.

It's a gorgeous day, sunny and hot, but not enough to need the a/c. They're flying down the highway in Copia's ancient whale of a car, the windows down and a Judas Priest cassette blaring through the speakers; Swiss belts out the chorus to Breaking the Law while Dew taps out a matching rhythm on the outside of his door. In the back, Cumulus provides backing vocals while Sunshine dances in her seat, and Dew can't help the massive grin that splits his face.

It's a 45 minute drive to the nearest grocery store - the one downside to the abbey being so remote - but the trip passes quicker than he expects. They're trundling into the parking lot before Dew knows it, Swiss killing the engine and groaning through a solid stretch. Dew flips down the visor, looks in the tiny mirror and makes a displeased sound at the state of his hair.

"Okay," Cumulus pipes up from the back seat. Dew peers at her in the mirror, not missing the fresh hickey just below her ear. "I have the list, I have our allowance, I have..." she pats at her chest, searching the pockets of her denim vest, "ah, and I have my phone!"

"You got my snacks on that list?" Dew inquires, working at his knotted ends. Cumulus makes an affirmative sound.

"Sure do," she lilts, leaning forward to dangle the paper in his face. "Jerky and cheese, as requested."

"Get some of that chocolate I like too," he mumbles, "the dark stuff, with the salt." He turns his head to give her outstretched hand a quick peck. "Please."

"You got it, sugar," she giggles, tucking the list away. "You two coming with us?"

"No boys allowed," Sunshine and Swiss say in unison, and the lot of them chuckle. It's a known fact that Dew isn't a fan of crowds and that Swiss can't be trusted around free samples, so in the car they will stay.

"Besides," Swiss adds, leaning across the bench seat to throw an arm around Dew's narrow shoulders, "I got good company right here."

He nips at Dew's ear and the little ghoul elbows him in the side, hard enough to make Swiss yelp. It turns into a quick little slap fight, a moment of playful stupidity that Dew will never admit to enjoying as much as he does.

"Play nice, kids," Sunshine chides when they break apart, resting her chin on the back of their seat with a toothy grin. "Or mommy won't bring back any treats!"

"Gross," Dew complains, but settles anyway. Goes back to working the kinks from his golden locks. Sunshine leans over the seat to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek and Dew squawks in protest.

"Aww, but you I thought you loved calling me that!"

Dew shoves her away, suffers through a chorus of snickers while his cheeks go pink, and resolutely avoids looking over as Swiss. The girls get their things together and then they're clambering out of the car; Sunshine glues herself to Cumulus, laces their hands together, and together they stride across the parking lot to the hulking monolith that is the grocery store.

"Mommy, huh?" Swiss pipes up moments later, and Dew groans.

"Shut up," he grouses, giving up on his messy hair and slouching down in his seat. "It's her thing, not mine," Dew lies. "Besides, I've called you worse."

"Can't argue that," Swiss lilts, stretching his arm along the back of the bench seat. "Remember that time you called me Mr. Army?"

Oh, does he, and Dew really doesn't want to think about that right now. Thick fingers tease their way into his tangled hair, blunt nails scratching against his scalp.

"You were the one that put me in a schoolgirl outfit," Dew huffs, crossing his legs for reasons totally unrelated to that particular memory. "I can't be held accountable for anything I said."

"I just never thought I'd get anyone but Rain to call me that," Swiss murmurs, a lascivious grin sliding onto his face. Dew looks at him from the corner of his eye, unwilling to lose the pleasant pressure of Swiss' hand in his hair.

"Rain? Really?"

"Oh yeah," Swiss says, converational. His hand moves to cup the back of Dew's neck, and oh is that lovely. "Wanted me to spank his ass raw and tell him what a naughty boy he was while he said it. Poor guy went off against my thigh before I could even get him on my cock," he sighs, wistful. Swiss turns his head, fixes Dew with that vulpine smile. "You were a nice surprise."

The little ghoul rolls his eyes, and really hopes Swiss doesn't notice him squeezing his thighs together. He has nothing further to say on the matter - or, at least, nothing that won't get him into trouble - so he stays silent. Enjoys the way Swiss' thumb rubs the spot just behind his ear while he watches humans mill about the lot. Families and individuals both, with arms full of paper bags holding untold goodies.

For what it's worth, Swiss doesn't keep talking either. He's not quiet, still humming out a tune Dew recognizes but can't quite place, but it's comfortable. The sun's hanging high in the early afternoon sky, a gentle breeze flowing though the still open windows, and Dew would be lying if he said this wasn't a nice way to kill time.

"What's on your mind?" Swiss asks a handful of minutes later, giving his neck a squeeze. "You're never quiet for this long."

"Oh you're one to talk," Dew chuffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can't remember the last time you shut up for more than five minutes."

"Pfft, sure you can," Swiss insists, that large hand dipping into the collar of Dew’s t-shirt, callused fingertips drifting over his skin and dragging a soft sigh from his lips. "I'm pretty sure I don't talk that much when you're sitting on my face, spitfire."

Dew scoffs despite the tingle the words force through him, a warm feeling settling into his belly. He turns his head to give Swiss a look, an incredulous eyebrow raised.

"That's the only example you can think of?"

"No," Swiss shrugs, "it's just the one I'm thinkin' of right now." The other ghoul licks his lips in a very intentional way, and that tingle hits again. "I guess deepthroating Mount counts too, but -"

"So the only thing that keeps you from yapping is having someone's junk in your mouth," Dew interrupts, nodding sagely, "noted."

Swiss laughs, loud enough to get the attention of a few people loading their car nearby. Dew shrinks in his seat.

"Like you're complaining."

He shifts in the seat, scooching closer. Dew squints at him, suspicious, but doesn't protest. Not even when Swiss gets close enough for their thighs to touch, for the other ghoul to drape an arm around his neck and let that huge hand rest on his chest. For Dew to soak in his spicy cologne and for Swiss to rest his chin on a bony shoulder.

"Besides," he rumbles, nosing at Dew's temple, "we both know you love my yapping."

"Love is a strong word," Dew mumbles, tilting his head when Swiss nuzzles his neck nonetheless.

"Mm, I don't think so," Swiss hums against his jaw, stubble scratching at his skin in a way that makes Dew's eyelids flutter. "Don't think I missed that little leg squeeze when I was talkin' about Rain, baby."

Dew groans, gives him a little shove. Far from enough to dislodge the other ghoul, more of a nudge than anything else. Token protest. Swiss huffs out a soft laugh, kisses his cheek.

"That's what I thought," he coos, licking at the shell of Dew's ear to draw out a shiver. The hand on his chest finds a nipple through his shirt, and Dew has to bite his lip to keep from making a sound. Curse Swiss for knowing every one of his weak spots. "Can't hide from me, Sparky."

Dew hates that he's right, and hates even more that - even in a place like this - Swiss can get him riled up with so little effort. Dew bounces his leg, takes his lower lip between his teeth while he scans the parking lot. There are people everywhere, but none close enough to see them - a fact Dew is very thankful for when Swiss sucks his earlobe and gives one of his nipple piercings a tug. Any closer and they might hear his moan.

"Fuck," Dew grunts, squirming in his seat, "ugh, you bitch."

"Such language," Swiss taunts, tracing the tip of his tongue along Dew's pulse point. "Lucifer, you're so easy."

Dew growls as best he can, human glamour be damned, and it just makes Swiss laugh again. It's a shame he can't argue - Swiss and Aether are the only ones who have such an effect on him, and they both know it perfectly well.

"Aww, gettin' all hot and bothered already?" Dew tries to shake his head, but Swiss kisses his throat and it doesn't get him very far. "Don't lie, firecracker. I can smell it on you."

Of course he can. He always can. Dew sighs as his eyes slip shut, sagging into the seat as Swiss slowly but surely teases the spots that make him start to sweat. Swiss' other hand lands on his thigh, stroking tight denim until Dew’s legs uncross. He walks two fingers up the inseam of the little ghoul's jeans while he trails wet kisses along his jaw, and Dew really can't help the soft sounds it all wrings from him.

Then that wandering hand sneaks under his shirt, lifts it up to expose his belly, and Dew jolts.

"H-hey, wait," he breathes, fists balled at his sides. His eyes crack open despite the way Swiss continues to work his chest, his throat, his ear. He watches Swiss' talented fingers trace his happy trail, dip into his navel and disappear up his shirt, and when Swiss rubs at his bare nipple Dew has to clap a hand over his mouth to hide his moan. "Shit, Swiss -"

It's muffled by his palm, and Dew's eyes dart around the parking lot as Swiss pulls away. Fixes him with hooded eyes and a crooked smile.

"Hm?" Swiss tugs both piercings at once and Dew shudders. "Something wrong?"

"You - oh - fuck, Swiss some...someone's gonna hear, someone's gonna - nngh - gonna see -"

"So?" The hand under his shirt runs ticklish trails down his belly, makes the muscles there jump. Swiss nibbles at his collarbone and Dew makes an embarrassing gurgling noise. "You like being watched and we both know it."

That may be true, but Dew thinks there's a difference between Mountain spying on him through a crack in the door and being fondled in a public parking lot with the windows down.

Swiss' hand finds his belt then, and Dew throbs.

"Fucker," he bites out as Swiss unbuckles him, other hand still expertly working his chest, and Dew flushes at the dark chuckle Swiss lets out.

"Maybe later," he croons, kissing the hinge of his jaw. "I got other plans for you right now."

Swiss wastes no time it getting his belt out of the way, quick to pop the button and tug down his zipper. Dew's narrow chest is heaving by the time Swiss hooks two fingers into the band of his boxer briefs. The other ghoul gives him a cruel smirk, snaps the band against his skin, and Dew sucks air through his teeth.

"Better keep it down, baby," Swiss speaks against his ear, liquid silk. "If you can, that is."

That hand worms its way into his underwear, slips down between his thighs, and Dew clenches his teeth so hard his jaw cracks.

"Mm, what's this?" Swiss glides the tip of one finger through his folds and Dew's thighs tense. "So slippery already. Just from this?"

Swiss tweaks his nipple, licks a nasty stripe below his ear, and Dew really has to work not to choke on his own tongue. His fat little dick throbs against Swiss' palm, and Swiss sounds absolutely thrilled about it.

"Oh, someone's excited," he teases, one thick finger prodding at his hole. "It's already tryin' to suck me in," Swiss sing-songs, and the little ghoul's shoulders sag.

Dew whimpers when he pushes the tip inside, clenching around an intrusion that feels far too good for how slight it is. He can't stop looking at everyone wandering the parking lot, trying to stay on high alert for the slightest hint of undue attention but struggling more and more with every passing second. Swiss wriggles that probing digit further inside, up to the second knuckle, and then there's sudden pressure on it front wall that has Dew's back arching off the seat.

"Fuck, fuck," he wheezes, hands flying to whatever he can reach - one paws at Swiss' shirt, the other gripping his forearm. Feeling the muscles shift as Swiss' finger works him open, groaning at the gentle stretch. "Oh you bastard."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart," Swiss breathes, palming his stiff clit, and Dew's breath catches in his throat.

"Can't believe you're - oh shit, oh - fuck, can't believe I'm letting you - ah!"

Dew bites his lips shut as Swiss curls his finger just right, muting his cry and fighting to keep his eyes from rolling back. Clamps his thighs around that massive hand until Swiss chuckles in his ear, swirling that digit and making the little ghoul's eyes cross instead.

"You're so pretty like this," he rumbles, a second finger tracing around the first, spreading slick. "All shy. Makes you even tighter," Swiss tells him, and Dew clamps down even harder. Why is it so good? "Wish I could get you in my lap right now," his breath is so, so hot in Dew's ear. "Get you to sit on my cock and see how quiet you are then."

Dew shivers head to toe, legs spreading at the thought alone, and Swiss leaps at the opportunity. Pulls his first finger out only to slide back in with two, and there's no possible way he could stay silent through that. He turns his head just in time to sink his teeth into Swiss' shoulder, howling his pleasure into cotton and flesh, and Swiss groans right along with him.

"That's more like it," he praises, kissing the top of Dew’s head while he pants and shivers. "Gonna be a quick one, isn't it?"

Dew nods as best he can, moaning into Swiss' shirt when he rubs the heel of his hand in slow circles over his pulsing clit. Doesn't pull back until he's sure he can control himself, gasping when Swiss crooks his fingers but biting back the whine bubbling up in his throat.

"Y-yeah," he admits, thready. He can't be bothered to look out the window anymore, staring only at the bulge Swiss' hand makes in his jeans. "Fuck, just do it, fuckin' make me."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Swiss lilts, one last taunt, and then the only sound filling the space around them is the wet squelch of skilled fingers plunging in and out of his tight little body.

It's perfect - the curve of Swiss' digits, the pressure against his sensitive little dick, the way Swiss rubs at that one spot inside that has Dew going boneless against Swiss' side. Huffing hot into his shirt, hair falling into his face and wafting in the breeze still flowing through the open windows. He can't stop grabbing at Swiss - his shirt, his arm, whatever he can reach. Skinny hips rolling against his palm in search of more, more, driving Swiss' fingers as deep as they'll go.

"C-close," he spits far too soon, every inch of him on fire and wound tight as a spring. Swiss gives his closes approximation of his usual purr, and Dew's thighs quiver. "Like...like that, just like that, shit -"

"Yeah?"

The hand still torturing his nipples stills, presses flat to Dew's chest. His fingers feel so perfect Dew can't handle it, on edge and covered in goosebumps.

"Give me a squeeze, baby," Swiss instructs, and Dew does. Clenches hard around those two wonderful digits and Swiss seems to predict the sound it'll drag from him, because the hand on his chest flies to cover Dew's mouth and catch his wail. "Fuck, that's my good boy," Swiss huffs, breathless in a way Dew adores even through his haze of pleasure. The other ghoul holds him close, keeps his mouth covered, and Dew scrabbles at the arm working him. "Now let me feel it cum for me."

Dew loses all sense of rhythm as Swiss curls his fingers one last time, hitting something that puts stars in his eyes and wrenches harsh moans from his throat, and with one perfect roll of Swiss' palm against his clit Dew's gone.

He's drooling against Swiss' palm when he comes down from the highest high, sweaty at his hairline and his cunt still snapping around Swiss' fingers. Holding him inside with the little ghoul rides out the aftershocks, breathing hard through his nose and blinking with one eye at a time. Swiss is muttering all sorts of nonsense into his hair, a litany of praise and wonderment that Dew cannot for the life of him understand but appreciates anyway.

Soon enough sensitivity sets in, and Dew hisses against Swiss' damp palm. Reaches up to peel his hand away with shaky fingers, squirming until Swiss gets the message and pulls out with care. There's a gush of warmth that follows, soaks into his briefs, and Dew heaves a sigh.

"Unholy shit," he slurs, collapsing back into his seat like a mound of jelly. "What the fuck, Swiss."

The other ghoul chuckles, and Dew rolls his neck just in time to watch Swiss pop his messy fingers into his mouth. Listens to Swiss suck them clean and groan at the taste of him.

"What?" He licks slick from his palm, exaggerated passes of his tongue that Dew finds himself fascinated by. "You said you wanted to get something outta this, right?" Dew blinks at him, brows scrunched together as he tried to make his brain work. "Just granting your wish, Sparky."

Swiss gives him a wink, and then he's leaning in for a quick kiss. Just a peck, really, before he's fastening Dew's jeans and putting his belt back into place. Smoothing his hair as best he can before he scoots back behind the wheel, lacing his fingers behind his head. Dew's fully back by the time he's done, very aware of their surroundings once more and ever so glad to see their activities seem to have gone unnoticed.

"Just in time, too," Swiss comments, nodding towards the store. Dew squits against the sun and sees the girls just leaving the building, Sunshine's arms full and Cumulus carrying what looks to be a single bag of chips. They're bumping into each other and giggling, Dew can tell even from across the lot, and his own smile curls into place.

"Damn," he laments, sitting up straighter. "Guess you'll have to wait 'til we get back for your turn, huh?"

He turns to give Swiss a playful wink, and finds Swiss looking...he isn't sure. Smug? Maybe? Hard to say.

"What's your problem?"

"Nothin'," he shrugs, eyes wrinkled at the corners. "Just find it funny that after so long you still don't know what you do to me."

Dew blinks as Swiss reaches over to grab his wrist, guiding to his crotch and -

"Oh no fuckin' way."

"Tell anyone and I won't eat you out for a month," Swiss threatens, but Dew's too busy enjoying the sizeable wet spot beneath his hand to care.

"We're ba-ack!" Cumulus calls once they're in earshot, and Dew gives Swiss a squeeze before he pulls back. Licks at his palm while Sunshine loads up the trunk, just to make the other ghoul suffer a little bit more. The back doors swing open and the girls slide inside. "You boys have fun without us?"

"Oh, Lus," Dew tells her, rifling through the cassettes in the glove box with the tang of Swiss still coating his tongue. "You have no idea."

#miasma's work #the band ghost fic #will post to ao3 later since this is like a million words #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #trans dew #swiss/dew #swiss x dew #swissdew #quick warning for mentions of forcedfem amd teacher/student rp but no actual content as such #not rereading before i post so if you see mistakes #no you dont

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owlghuleh · 7 months

Text

SMJBHIMKONVDSSDD, OH MY DAYS

Cr: Aethersghoul

#Swiss you crazy ass ghoul #swiss x dewdrop #nameless ghouls #the band ghost #re imperatour 2023 #ghost posting #ghost fandom

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forlorn-crows · 4 months

Note

you wanted promts... PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE NASTY BUT CUTE SWISSALPS NASTY BUT CUTE SWISSALPS THEYRE FILTHY LITTLE DUDES BUT THEYRE SO IN LOVEEEEEE

there's some cuteness in here, i swear it. mountain is a goober after all. but it's mainly nasty. @rrriver also requested rimming with dealer's choice of ghouls, so here we are (did you think it'd be swissalps, river? probably one out of two you thought it be lmao)

nasty ghouls under the cut. rimming and oral and fingering and fucking (oh my). top mountain came out to play today.

Swiss keens, tosses his head back. Mountain’s tongue is so good, so wet, so hypnotizing, he can’t form anymore coherent thoughts. Anything close to a thought fizzled out as soon as the earth ghoul pinned him down to the bed with only a hand on his sternum and a few honeyed words.

“Mount—unholy shit, baby,” he groans when the muscle dips inside. Gripping his cock in a tight fist when it leaks a bead of pre onto his stomach. Mountain hums—loud and rumbly on purpose—and digs his fingers into the multi ghoul’s spread thighs, pushing his knees closer to his chest. Really spreading him out nice and wide so he can lick deep.

“H-how do you get so far in there,” Swiss damn near whines. He starts to jerk in earnest, wet strokes that make his thighs jump and his toes twitch.

Mountain chuckles. He sucks on his rim lightly before pulling away, displaying his lengthened, unglamoured tongue as he licks his lips. He cradles a fang with the split end, making it flutter teasingly when Swiss cranes his head up to look.

And promptly lets it thud back down with a strained noise as his hand polishes the sticky tip of his cock.

“All the better to taste you with, darling,” Mountain lilts. Relishing in the desperation wafting off his partner.

“Fuck,” the multi-ghoul says intelligently. “That’s hot, baby, that’s fuckin’ hot.”

Mountain hums and returns to his task. Alternating between spreading him with his tongue and kissing around his hole. Even daring to smooth his thin fingers along the apex of his thighs, running through coarse curls until the digits press and tickle his balls.

It’s enough to drive Swiss crazy. He bites his lip until it threatens to bleed and pulls at himself without a care for pacing. Precum wrung from the slit with every involuntary clench, every stroke slicker than the last.

“Oh fuck, Mount, you’re gonna—hmpf gonna make me cum, feels so good,” Swiss babbles. Mountain can feel him twitch under his tongue, cheeks clenching as he nears the point of no return. A spike of urgency and need runs up his spine, and he pulls away with a string of saliva still connecting his tongue to Swiss’ hole.

“Don’t,” he says gruffly. “Don’t cum. Not yet.” He presses against the space his tongue created, slipping a finger inside just up to the first knuckle. Swiss gasps, hand stilling. “Want you on my cock,” Mountain breathes.

“Oh,” Swiss chokes out. Risks another squeeze to his cock before nodding and pulling away. Mountain slips that finger all the way inside, folding his lanky body over him to kiss him softly, deeply. Gripping the fat over his hips as pumps the digit in and out.

“There, Mount, yeah,” he groans. He loops his arms around Mountain’s neck, tangling his fingers in his mousy brown curls. Wraps a leg around him too, losing himself in the prep. Whining at the taste of himself on his tongue.

“You feel how hard you make me?” the earth ghoul purrs, nudging their cocks together as he slips a second finger in. “Can’t wait to get you on it. Bounce you til you’re shaking.”

Swiss moans, long and wanton. Mountain huffs a laugh against his lips when he clenches around the stretch, the deepest parts of him caressing his fingers with a firm seal.

“Gimme another, I can take it,” he begs, rocking into his hand.

“Eager,” Mountain teases. “But I like you like this, edelweiss.” He rubs their noses together. “Begging.” Kisses the corner of his mouth. “Desperate.” Another kiss at the hinge of his jaw. “Wet.” He whispers that right into his ear, rolling their hips together and crooking his fingers into the spot that makes him melt.

“Satanas, help me,” he wheezes. His tail betrays him, thumping against the bed in an eager rhythm.

The earth ghoul sucks the lobe of his ear into his mouth, humming when Swiss arches and groans loudly. “Shh, just open up for me. Let me treat you right.”

“Anything, fuck, whatever you want, baby, shit.”

Mountain smiles against his skin. Pushing on the back of one thigh so Swiss exposes himself further. “Good. Just like that.” Swiss’s cock twitches against his when he splays his fingers. Wringing from him another broken groan. “That’s it.”

Mountain may be quick to get all four fingers inside, but he certainly lets the stretch settle in, spreading and thrusting and working him open until he’s panting and almost loose against his hand.

“C’mere,” he says softly once Swiss starts begging again. Slipping his fingers out and guiding him to straddle his lap. Mountain folds his legs up underneath him, creating a cradle for his body once he sinks all the way down. “Right there, there we are, darling.”

Mountain holds Swiss with one hand on his lower back, placing kisses along his sternum as he lines up the wide head of his cock with the other hand. Teasing it against his slack entrance as the multi ghoul clings to his shoulders.

“Please,” Swiss whispers. His cock throbs between them, neglected all this time yet hardly flagged at all.

“I’ve got you,” Mountain assures him. He rubs the tip against his hole, pushing until the head pops in. And he keeps going, easing Swiss down with two hands on his ass, steadily lowering until he reaches the base. Bottoming out with a strained huff and shaky legs.

“Fuck—”

“—yes.” Mountain pulls him flush, chest to chest. Tucking his face into the crook of Swiss’ neck and breathing in patchouli and whiskey tinged with need. He just holds him there, warm and balls-deep. Overwhelmed with both arousal and love.

Above him, Swiss whines. He shifts a little in his lap, grunting when his cock rubs against Mountain’s stomach.

The earth ghoul holds him tighter. “Okay, edelweiss?”

“So fuckin’ big,” he groans. Mountain barks a laugh, skating his nails up and down Swiss’ back. He pulls back and gives him a peck on the lips, looking at him fondly and admiring the dark blush on his cheeks and the sweat on his hairline. He smiles and tucks his face back into his neck.

That is, not before dragging his lips up the prominent tendons in his neck, stopping once more at the shell of his ear and muttering into it, so low it sends a shiver right up Swiss’ spine:

“You can take it.”

#ask #hypnoneghoul #river #ficlet #the band ghost #ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfic #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #swiss army ghoul #swissalps #mountain/swiss #swiss/mountain #swiss x mountain #mountain x swiss #hope you like!!#thats three in one week jeeze #and yet i still feel like i cant write lmao

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highdefinitions · 7 months

Text

said i wasn’t going to make more of these.. well…

#dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #rain x dewdrop #raindrop #the band ghost #ghost the band #shitghosting #yes i think rain is evil. yes he’s the most beautiful ghoul ever.#phantom ghoul #aeon ghoul #whatever the fuck you want to call him idk #phantom my little cringefail loser boygirl #swiss ghoul #do not let this one flop like the other one please

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riconas · 9 months

Note

Rico. I saw your tags on that post.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But fuck, he’s so hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It?” Mountain asks. “What’s it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ethereal-maniac · 2 months

Text

Night Terrors, Nightmares

Fem!Reader x Copia, Swiss and Mountain (mainly x Copia)

❗️CW❗️: Night terrors/Nightmares, not explicitly stated what about but reader is very shaken up, a little angsty?, over all comfort.

A/n: this based mostly on my experience with night terrors so be kind and please let me know if I missed any triggers, I hope you enjoy this one <3

Summary: When reader has been woken up in a panic for weeks, Copia tries to help.

Italian Translations: Dolcezza = sweetness, Amour = love, Amour mio = my love, Tesoro = darling, Topolina = little Mouse, si = yes

Do not copy, translate, transfer (plagiarise) or take ‘inspiration’ from any of my fics.

Sobs racked through your body as you cried into Copias chest, trying to get yourself under control as he gently pets your hair, murmuring sweet Italian words.

It had been another terrible night for you, waking up distressed and sticky with sweat. It was the same every damn night, pain and suffering flooding your mind to the point where you were afraid to sleep. Weeks of this indescribable torment.

Your body was shaking, trying to rid itself of the adrenaline that had overtook your sleeping form for 7 long minutes. Your mind raced through every little thing you could remember.

Thank Satan Copia had insisted on staying over for the night, he had noticed your distraught appearance lately and was increasingly concerned when you opened up about your night terrors. So the arrangement was made, he would sleep in your room for the night. Maybe it would help?

He had this aura of calmness around him, one that was quick to subside your screaming and crying to quieter whimpers and hiccups.

"That's it dolcezza, let it all out. You're safe here with your papa, hm? He will not let anything bad happen to you."

He continues to pet your hair and hold you delicately in his arms, his heartbeat steady and soothing against your tear stained cheek.

You follow the patterns of his breathing and you soon find your body slowing down to it's normal rhythms.

"There she is, you do not have to be afraid now, you're right here in my arms, si? Nothing can get to you here."

You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like you were truly back in the present time again.

"Thank you" you whisper out hoarsely in a small voice. Not once had you been able to calm down this fast. Usually it took an hour, if not more to remotely calm yourself down.

"You do not have to thank me, I'm doing my duty as your papa, it’s my pleasure amour mio." He smiles softly as your fatigued form begins to completely slump against his.

"Do you want to go back to try going back to sleep?" He asks, pressing a comforting kiss onto your temple.

You shake your head no, "I'm too scared" you whisper again.

"Well we can't have than now can we tesoro? How about I call one or two of the Ghouls in here, they can give you a cuddle, bring you snacks and a drink while we wait for sleep?" Copia asks while slowly sitting up against the headboard of your bed, managing to keep you secure in his grasp.

"Aren't they asleep right now?" You peer up at him, your eyes a little sore from being squeezed shut so tightly.

"Ah, do not worry about that." He reassures you with a smile and a wave of his hand, "we both know they'd do anything for you."

You nod slowly and before you know it, Swiss and Mountain are at your door with a water bottle and armfuls of snacks they know you like.

"We weren't sure what you'd be feeling like so we just took everything" Swiss grins and drops half the snacks by you on the bed.

You smile and welcome the bits of Quintessence energy he filters through to you when he curls up against your back.

“You’re having very loud thoughts aren’t you baby?” Swiss coos comfortingly, slinging his arm gently around your waist.

The Ghouls all know you don't like any Quints going through your mind, no matter how intensely you were stressing out. So was easier for a Multi to feed little bits of it to you to take away the edge of your stress without going through your head.

You quickly grew sleepier, especially when Mountain started massaging your achey leg muscles.

"Take a sip of this, it'll help everything" Mountain encourages, handing the drink bottle to you which you now realise is a thermos filled with the most calming/sleep inducing tea Mount could find.

You take a couple of long swigs from it, happily sinking further into the pillows when you'd had enough.

"Thank you, all three of you. You're too good to me." You hum, feeling the liquid start to soothe your throat already.

"No, no, no, you're very deserving of all this love babygirl" Swiss rumbles from behind you, a purr erupting from deep in his chest when he feels you melt into his cuddles.

Mountain trills with agreement to Swiss' statement, crawling up to lie his head on your stomach while interlocking your fingers with his.

"I think the snacking can wait til tomorrow, eh? You look so sleepy in this little cuddle pile, under these blankets and Ghouls, you remind me of my rats in winter, topolina" Copia murmurs, knowing his voice is grounding to listen to.

You babble something incoherent but it sounded happy so the three smile as you drift off into a more peaceful slumber. Swiss and Mountain soon follow behind but Copia waits a while until he’s sure you’re okay before kissing your temple once more and falling asleep.

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swiss-mrs · 1 month

Note

You were asking for ideas about a future Sy fiction & an idea just popped into my head about “Shy Sy” & the “Karaoke Cowgirl”. Now, there’s NO WAY I could ever compare to your writing skills…but say Shy Sy calls & asks her for a date, she agrees, but everything goes horribly wrong……he spills beer all over her, clumsily trips over his own 2 feet, his truck gets a flat ( there is no spare tire), so they sit alone in the truck having the most fun conversation & maybe with a little cuddling to keep her warm?!?! (She only has a skimpy sundress on). As they casually talk, Sy becomes much more relaxed & finds her just adorably perfect?!?!

sorry this took so long. I have been going through some crazy writer's block. I think I got everything minus the beer😅 thank you for your support! hope you like this!💕

Your Shotgun Rider

Read Black Velvet (Pt. 1)

Word Count:

Warnings: Series of Unfortunate Events (First Date Edition), Adult Language, Some Suggestive Themes (No Smut), Petnames (darling and pumpkin), Reader is Able to Fit in One of Sy's Jackets.

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: No Descriptions Beyond Clothing (The vibes: one two three four), No Mentions of Age, Race, Ethnicity, Height, Etc., No Use of Y/N, She/Her Pronouns, Mentioned as "Girl"/"Pretty Girl" and "Little Lady"

Synopsis: After your meet-cute at the bar over the weekend, Sy gets you to go out on a proper date with him. Unfortunately, everything seems to be going wrong.

--💕👢💕--

It's time. Sy looked at the watch on his wrist and breathed out a heavy sigh. "God damnit!" He hits the steering wheel in a weak attempt to release some built-up tension. This was the 5th time he'd tried turning the ignition over to no avail. He was running good on time, thirty minutes early, to be exact, before he came out to his truck to try and head over to pick you up. Only to be cockblocked by his own damn pickup.

The last time he recalled, the thing was running smoothly. What in the hell changed?! He leans back in the driver's seat and drags his hands down his face in frustration, letting out a deep groan. His hands drop to his lap with a smack. With his eyes closed, he begins praying. "Please, to the powers that be, please let this God forsaken truck start so I can go see this girl." Without much hope, he opens his eyes and leans forward again to twist the keys again. Surprisingly, the engine roared to life.

Sy lets out a deep sigh of relief, closing his eyes and allowing his body to collapse slightly, forehead resting on the wheel. He lets out a chuckle in disbelief. "Thank you." He leans back up and shifts the truck into drive to head over to the address you'd given him when setting up your date over the phone.

Thankfully, you didn't live far. Your new apartment building was less than 15 minutes away from his house. He lived more on the outskirts of town as opposed to your apartment closer to the town center. He reckoned that if he pushed the speed limit, he could make it in there in 10. This was his town, after all. He knew the streets to avoid to be able to safely cut time.

Sy hated running late, much more now than ever. He didn't want to miss this opportunity. This was his first official outing with you. He had to make a good impression.

As he drove, all he could think about was you. Your laugh, your voice. Since you'd met two weeks ago, you two had built a strange little bond. You've gotten to the point where you can talk to each other like old friends, though all of it has been only over the phone.

You were extremely busy with basically zero down time. The combination of adjusting to your new job, apartment hunting, and now moving, you couldn't find time to do anything but work, sleep, eat, pack, and move. In between, you'd have your phone glued to your ear with Sy on the other end of the line.

Every time you talked, Sy could practically hear the stress and tension in your shoulders from carrying the weight of everything happening. He'd offered to help you move, but you turned him down, insisting you had more than enough help. Plus, you were moving things slowly, and didn't want to have him just drop everything he was doing at your beck and call just to move boxes. He never said it aloud, but he would be more than willing to be on standby for you.

Due to everything going on, Sy had made it his mission to make the little time you had together over the phone pleasant. Thankfully, you got his humor, so making you laugh was never a hard task. It hasn't been a day since he last spoke to you, but he already missed your laugh. Every time it came through the line, the image of your smiling face at the bar would pop up. Every time, without fail. It would always bring a smile to his own face.

The realization of him finally getting to see you in person again hit him hard when he finally reaches the street you live on. It's been two weeks. TWO WEEKS. He hoped you didn't forget what he looked like. Your image is engraved in his brain, one of his sweetest memories. That's when he spots you standing at the base of the stairs, just outside your apartment building. Somehow, his heartbeat both doubled in rate and stopped completely at the sight of you.

You're wearing a white dress that stopped mid-thigh. The skirt of your dress was light and flowy while the upper half was fitted to your frame, hugging you in all the right places. On your feet was a pair for dark brown cowboy boots. You looked utterly adorable and equally sexy. Sy found his eyes trailing along the skin of your exposed legs.

Sy pulled up to the curb, throwing the truck in park, and hoping out the driver's side to walk over to the passenger door, near the sidewalk.

As soon as he hopped out, your face lit up like the morning sun, eyes widening and face breaking out in a big smile. You wave at him and immediately start to speed walk over to him. Your sheer excitement made his heart warm. At least you were happy to see him, and in fact, did not forget what he looked like, as if you ever could. You fight the urge to run and jump into his strong arms.

"Sorry I'm late, darlin'." He blurts before you can get a word out. You're obviously taken aback by the apology. You scrunch your eyebrows and pout, tilting your head.

"Late?" You pull out your cellphone from your hidden pocket, clicking the screen on to check the time. "It's 6:03." You lock your phone and slide it back in your dress, looking back to him with a small smile. "There's no need to apologize for three minutes." You say positively. "You're here now, and I'm so happy you are." Your smile grows happily.

You have to clasp your hands together in font of your lap to physically contain yourself from jumping on the man in front of you. First off, you're overjoyed that you get to finally go on a date with him. Second off, he looks so damn good in his plaid button-down and jeans. You give him a quick once over. It looks like he'd given his beard a little neatening up. His shirt is ironed free of any wrinkles and tucked neatly into the waistband of his jeans. He has a brown leather belt that just so happens to match your boots perfectly. The circular buckle on the front has a horse on it, and his jeans hug his thighs just right, loosening back up as the fall passed his knees. On his feet are leather boots that are obviously a bit worn but sturdy. Must be his go-tos. Neither of you are dressed super fancy. Both cleaned up just appropriate enough for your date. You sigh out a happy sigh. "You ready to show me your moves?" You tease, raising a brow. Sy lets out a soft chuckle, showing off his teeth with his effortlessly charming smile.

"Now, little lady, I told you over the phone, 'I'm no dancer', but if it makes you happy, I'm more than ready." He gives you that smile that makes your knees go weak. He reaches for the door handle and opens the passenger door for you to get in. As you step closer, he holds a hand out for you to take, to use as leverage to get in the tall truck. You smile at him and give him a gracious nod and 'thank you' as you grab his hand to lift yourself into the seat.

Once you're safely in, Sy closes the door behind you and jogs over to his side, quickly hoping back into the driver's seat with one swift motion. He buckles up and looks over to you as he reaches for the gear shift, giving you another smile before shifting and driving off.

"Now, we have a little ways out til we get there. It's just outside of town. No more than 30 minutes." You look over at him as he drives, and he throws some short glances at you as he speaks. "So, uh..." He says, looking back and forth between you and the road. The happy, wide-eyed look you're giving him is making it awful hard to keep his mind straight. He clears his throat and decides to focus his eyes on the streets ahead of him, but the feeling of your eyes on him remains. "How's the move been so far? You likin' your new place?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your little smile grow a bit as you nod.

"Yeah, it's been going." You say with a soft chuckle and a shrug. "I at least have some furniture and kitchen stuff over, pots and pans or whatever, so I can now somewhat function out of my own place. It's looking a little less like a storage unit and more like a home, finally, minus the bedroom." You sigh and shift your gaze to the roads ahead as well. "I still have boxes to unpack and a bed frame I've been procrastinating having to put together, but it's nice." You smile, the pride of having a space to call your own swelling in your chest.

Sy glances over at you, eyes nervously shifting back and forth, contemplating his next words before just blurting them out. "I could help if you want." You turn to him to say something, but he continues before you get the chance. "I know you said you don't want me to 'be burdened with your move', which I would, by the way, be more than happy to help you with anything, so don't worry about burdenin' me." He quickly adds in, "I could at very least come by and put your bed together." He glances over at you again as if to let you know he's done with his little ramble.

You give him a little smile, so soft and warm it melts his heart down into his stomach. There's a short pause of you just staring at him with pure admiration before you nod. "Okay." You say with a smile. Sy raises his brows and glances over at you.

"'Okay'? Really?" He clears his throat, shifting in his seat a little in an attempt to cover up the surge of happiness that just ran through him. "Alright. I, uh, I keep some tools in the back." He points a thumb to the backseat. "After tonight, I could fix it up when I bring you back home, so you can have a proper bed to sleep on." He shoots you a smile, and you gently nod. He's so cute. You turn your head to look out the window. This burly man, 'if looks could kill' exterior mixed with his cinnamon roll personality played criminal tricks with your mind and your heart. It only left you pondering what he was like in action, when he was on-duty.

With his soft, sweet, and caring attitude towards you, it was hard to imagine him with a scowl, guns blazin', and dirty. It felt a bit forbidden, but a part of you was set alight by the pure fantasy of it. You could feel your heartbeat quicken at the thought. You purse your lips and try to quietly control your breathing, cheeks starting to burn a little. You nearly jump out of your skin when Sy speaks up again. "Is that alright, darlin'?" You turn away from the window to look back towards him, finding his gaze shifting between you and the road.

You take a quick breath in to try and compose yourself. You nod quickly. "Yeah, no, yeah, that's completely fine. Sorry." You shake your head and let out a small sigh with a smile. "Just got... caught up in my own mind." You try to play your fluster off. He throws you another brain melting grin.

"Well, hopefully, tonight can help you de-stress." He focuses his eyes back on the road, thank God. "New job, new apartment, new town." He shakes his head. "You sure got your work cut out for you." You let out a little laugh and a nod.

"You're telling me. Thank you for taking me out tonight, and thank you in advance for the bed." You give him a smile. He arches a brow and shoots you a glance out the corner of his eyes.

"Don't thank me yet. I might step on your feet, spill beer on ya or somethin'." He says, lighthearted but honest. You let out another laugh, filling Sy's heart.

"Okay, okay. We'll see how the night progresses, but I'm sure there's nothing you could do that would make me any less grateful. I'm truly happy to be here. I'm lucky to have met you." You say honestly. The way the truth rolls off of you was easy, but to Sy, it felt like you just gave him the world. He's about 98% sure you have no idea the effect your words affect him. His smile grows, showcasing his teeth proudly from behind his freshly trimmed mustache.

Before the conversation could deepen any further, a loud POP erupts through the truck, followed by an insane, anxiety inducing rattling and swerving of the truck.

You instinctively reach out to hold onto something, and Sy instinctively reaches a protective arm out to you, keeping the other one on the wheel to maintain as much control over the truck as possible. You had just made it on the country road highway not ten minutes ago, and from the sounds and feel of it, one of the tires popped.

Sy carefully pulls over to the shoulder, parking the vehicle halfway off the road. Thankfully, there just so happened to not be any other cars on the road, but, then again, not-so-thankfully, that meant no immediate help nearby.

As soon as Sy gets to the roadside, he takes his arm back to use it to switch gears into park. He looks in the driver's side mirror with a clenched jaw. You both already know it's the tire, but a big part of him just hopes that the mirror will give him a different answer. He holds in a string of curses, throwing open the door and hopping out. He turns to you once he's outside, "I'll be right back." He's visibly struggling to keep calm, and your heart is a nervous wreck from the loud noise and turbulence. You want to ask him to stay for a few moments until your heart slows back down, but you instead stay silent and nod.

He closes the door and walks towards the back of the truck to get a closer look at the tire that blew. Even though the doors are closed and the windows are rolled up, you could still hear the muffled swears Sy was letting out. Though, yes, the situation is terrible, and you feel bad. You couldn't help but giggle through your little heart attack.

You turn to look through the back window to find a very stressed looking Sy leaning his hands on the truck with his head down. You couldn't hold back a pity smile. Poor guy.

You could see him let out a heavy breath before standing up straight and waking back to the driver's side door. He opens it and pauses, fixing his jaw. He drops his head, letting out another deep breath before looking back up at you. "I'm sorry, darlin'." He starts. "The damn thing is completely busted, and I don't have a spare." He drops his hands from the truck to run the down his jeans. He reaches for his back pocket to grab his phone. You shake your head.

"Don't apologize. It's happens." Your optimistic tone and little pouty face softens the blow. He shakes his head with a chuckle.

"This has got to be the worst date. I'm sorry, pumpkin." He pulls out his phone, clicking the screen on and tapping at it. "One of my guys drives a tow truck for a livin'. There's no tellin' what he's up to right now. He's probably still workin', but imma try givin' him a call and see if he can lend a hand."

"Okay." You say with a relaxed smile. He sighs a soft grin, a gentle look in his eyes. His shoulders relax ever-so-slightly. He hates that you're stuck with him in this situation, but at the same time, he's glad he's stuck here with you.

"Just a minute, pretty girl." He winks, bringing the phone up to his ear and closing the door softly as he walks around to the front of the truck, leaning against the grill.

You watch him have the conversation through the windshield, waiting with your hands rested in your lap. The phone call doesn't last too long as barely five minutes pass by before he's hanging up the phone and rubbing a hand down his face. He doesn't make any attempts to move, so you take that as your opportunity to get out of the truck and walk towards him.

Sy lifts his head from the hand he has massaging his forehead to look over at you. "I'm so sorry, darlin'." He looks at you, guilt, embarrassment, and shame worrying his features. You shake your head and raise a hand to stop him, closing your eyes and looking away, a clear indication of not 'wanting to hear it'.

"No need. Like I said, you don't need to apologize for this." You lean next to him on the warm grill of the car and offer a soft grin. You lean over to bump your shoulder to his. "Any luck with your buddy?" He lets out another sigh, looking down at his phone.

"Well, like I suspected, he's still on the clock and currently helpin' someone else out, but he'll come and get us once he's free. Though, it may be a while." Sy slides the phone back into his back pocket before going back to rubbing his forehead.

"You know, you look really handsome." Sy looks up, removing his hand from his face and looking over to you. The smile on your face nearly makes him forget the unfortunate situation you're both stuck in. He can't help but adore the way your head is adorably tilted as you smile at him. It brings a little smile to his own face. He huffs out a brief chuckle and looks down at his boots, shifting his feet a little.

"Thank you, darlin', and you are just as beautiful as the day I first saw you." He gives you a pursed grin as if trying to contain his smile but failing. You blush and look away from him. You avert your gaze to the field just off to the side of the road, admiring the setting sun. The warm light makes you look as if you're glowing, and Sy can't seem to pry his eyes off of you. His eyes slowly find their way lowering, caressing your figure. "It's a damn shame you've wasted such a pretty little outfit on this."

Your head turns back to him with a scrunched nose smile and warm cheeks. Just then, the best idea pops into your head. "You know, it's not over yet." You pull out your phone, unlock it and open up your music app. "We still got time for a dance or two." You give him a teasing smile, glancing over your phone to him.

Sy shakes his head with furrowed brows. "You can't seriously be tryin' to get me to dance," He looks around, " out here."

"Oh, what?" You press play, setting your phone on the hood of the truck and stepping away from the vehicle. "Scared?" You reach for Sy's hand and weakly attempt to pull him to you. Sy lets you drag him off the truck with little resistance but doesn't let his face show how easily he's persuaded.

You close the distance between you two, Sy's hands finding themselves in yours. "Now, remember what I told you, darlin'.-"

"I know, I know." You hush him and pull him closer. "I don't care. Just dance with me." You squint at him, and he caves instantly, allowing you to bring his hands to your hips.

You tentatively leave your hands on his broad shoulders and begin swaying to the music, easing into a rhythm. You smile at him, gaining a timid grin back. Sy tries his best to follow your lead but is notably awkward and stiff. You can't help but giggle at this. "Hey, now, no laughin' at me." He says, trying his best to be stern but ultimately stiffling his own chuckle. You shake your head, trying to rid your body of its laughter.

"Yeah, okay. Sorry." You manage out through your badly contained giggles. Sy shakes his head at you with a smile.

Several songs and several close calls of him barely missing your toes pass before Sy finally loosens up enough for you to be a bit more experimental with your movements. You open the door to singing along to the songs you like the most. Sy surprises you with his own baritone singing voice, the shock on your face giving him the confidence to step back and spin you around.

When he pulls you back into his chest, admittedly a bit clumsily, you speak up, "Why didn't you tell me you had such a beautiful singing voice?" Due to the nature of the clumsy spin, you were tumbled into his chest, resting one hand over his heart and the other entangled with his. You could feel his heartbeat in your palm through his shirt. Its quick pace was endearing and sweet, causing yours to quicken as well. He gives you a bashful smile.

"I'm no singer, gorgeous." You scoff and roll your eyes.

"Oh, please. I quite literally just heard you. You're actively humming now!" You point out with a laugh. His chest rumbles with a chuckle. He shrugs and continues to hum along, leaving it at that. You give him a playful glare, which he ignores and only pulls you closer by your waist.

Not long after, the sun has disappeared to the point of turning the sky into a deep, royal blue, hinting at the dark night sky incoming. The headlights of the still running truck illuminate you two as you dance, creating your own personal spotlights.

Everything in this moment is sweet and wholesome. A day that started and continued to dampen Sy's mood ended up being one of the greatest he's had in forever, and every upside to this day is thanks to you. This was only your first date, but he knew from right then and there that he would one day make you his wife. He didn't want to scare you off, though, so he kept that thought to himself, twirling you around in the evening air.

Now that the sun was no longer providing its warm blanket, it started to chill. It could be smelt in the air before it began to fall. A spring shower was incoming.

Just as that fact became evident, little droplets started falling from the sky. At first, it was going ignored and partially unnoticed, but it couldn't be ignored for long as the droplets turned into a light sprinkle. "We should get back in the truck before things start getting worse." Sy announces, but you shake your head.

"No, no. Let's at least finish the song." You reply, giving him a bright smile. He melts and submits, letting you continue on with your singing and sways. He knows it's way too early to call it, but, God, he loves you.

Barely halfway through the song, rain starts coming down in clusters. The change happens within a blink of an eye and causes you and Sy to stop almost immediately. Sy pulls you in closer, flush against his strong body as if trying to protect you from the falling water. You let out a little squeak. "I think it's time to call it." He chuckles, ducking his head down to keep rain from hitting his eyes.

He starts leading you over to the passenger's side, keeping you as close as humanly possible the entire tread there. He throws the door open and damn near picks you up by your waist and throws you in. Just as your bum his the seat, you shout out, "My phone!"

Sy closes the door in response and runs back around the truck, grabbing your phone and jogging to the driver's side, hopping in and shutting the door behind him. He hands you your damp phone after doing a quick swipe on his jeans to get most of the water off of it.

You giggle as you take it from him, "Thank you." He chuckles with a head shake.

"You're a crazy little lady, aren't ya?" You tilt up your chin.

"Adventurous, Free Spirited, Yes." You proudly correct, matter-of-factly, earning another chuckle from Sy.

He looks over at you, convincing you your heart had stopped. His eyes hold nothing but pure adoration. You swear all your insides melted as soon as your gazes collided.

You both hold eye contact for what feels like an eternity. Time feels like a slow-motion movie scene, and despite the gloomy, blue hue from the rainy evening, the world suddenly has a rose tint.

You notice Sy's eyes drop from yours, down to your lips. You follow suit, but just as you were going to lean in, an angry shiver runs through you. Your eyes meet his again. A smile grows on his face. He scoots a bit closer to the middle of the bench seat to reach into the backseat, promptly grabbing a brownish Carrhart jacket and draping it over your shoulders, engulfing you in his scent.

As soon as it's over you, you slip your arms into it and bring it tighter around you, using all your might to resist the urge to bring it up to your nose.

Sy gives you another award winning smile that brightens his eyes. He'd never liked his clothes on anyone else so much better than himself, but here you are.

You take this opportunity to scoot closer to him, meeting him in the middle of the bench. He raises an arm, inviting you into his side. You snuggle in close as he rests his arm around you.

Sy reaches forward to turn the heat on low to try and help you both dry off a bit faster without overheating. You being so cuddled up to him warms the pit of his belly. He smiles down at you before tilting his head to rest on top of yours. "This has got to be the best first date I've ever been on." You confess. He chuckles, the rattling in his chest causing your head to bounce slightly. He sighs, content and whole.

"Hopefully, the first of many."

--💕👢💕--

I hope you liked it!!😫💕

#captain syverson x you #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #captain syverson fic #syverson fluff #syverson x reader #black velvet swiss fic #swiss fics #captain syverson x black reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #syverson swiss fics

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miasmaghoul · 8 months

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i know we've seen minute man dew on here before. how does he react to swiss being as rough as he was tonight

Dew knows something's coming.

Swiss has only been getting worse as the tour goes on, and he's learned to anticipate the other ghoul's ferality. It took Swiss sneaking onto his platform and sinking his teeth into his shoulder to really drive that point home, but Dew knows what to expect now. Knows that he needs to be hypervigilant when the stage lights go blue, when first notes of Watcher in the Sky ring out and the crowd starts to shriek.

He knows something's coming, and Dew tries his best not to tense up when Swiss' heavy bootfalls shake his platform. His fingers don't so much as falter on his strings when that broad body molds itself to his back, the wail of his guitar not quite enough to drown out the way Swiss pants wildly in his ear.

He knows something's coming, but he's still somehow unprepared for the large hand that sneaks behind his guitar. His foot goes heavy on his pedal as Swiss gropes at him, a harsh inhale sucking the already damp fabric of his balaclava into his mouth.

Swiss' other hand digs into his hip and Dew spits a curse that no one but he can hear. Swiss snarls in his ear, a possessive, predatory sound that does absolutely nothing to help the immediate tingle that's settling between his legs. Dew burns with it, thrown into immediate flashbacks of that moment on the last leg of the tour. Of Swiss sneaking up behind him and grabbing at his crotch in front of thousands, rubbing a nipple through his uniform and snickering in his ear.

This is so, so much worse.

Dew bites the inside of his cheek, palms sweatier than usual, cheeks so hot behind his mask. He can just barely see Swiss' hand curl into a tight fist behind his guitar, knuckles pressed to Dew's zipper. Swiss mimes a stroking motion that only Dew can see, and he's helpless to do anything but lean back against the solid chest behind him.

What a mistake that is.

He hears the crowd scream in a very distant way, playing purely off of muscle memory while he stares down at Swiss' hand. He knows he's swelling up already, always embarrassingly quick to react to even the slightest stimulation. Swiss fist drags over his pants just enough to feel, and every pass sends a shock through him that pools deep in his gut.

Swiss grinds against him, a firm roll of his hips, and Dew knows he can't watch anymore. Not if he wants to keep his pants unmessed.

Swiss' teeth dig into his shoulder and Dew does the only thing he can think of - grabs his whammy bar and pulls. Lifts his guitar by it, a violent tug that he does every night but has wildly different connotations tonight. Swiss, of course, responds in kind. Screeches in his ear and ruts against his ass. Dew can't help the way his head jerks when he feels Swiss's hand speed up, a familiar motion that goes straight to Dew's rapidly stiffening cock.

It pulses, sits hot against his thigh, and Dew's shoulders roll forward as he drops his guitar back down. For a split second he thinks Swiss isn't going to stop. The thought hits like a punch to the gut, images slamming through his mind of Swiss working him over right here on stage. Fondling him through his pants until he's soaking a wet spot into them for everyone to see. They're all screaming already, and the sudden knot of worry in his gut grows at the thought of how much louder the crowd would get if Swiss chose not to show mercy.

Another, sharper bite to his shoulder has him hissing, and with a firm slap to his ass Swiss is gone. Sauntering back to his own platform with his usual swagger while Dew's head spins. While his cock throbs against his zipper. The whole event only lasted a handful of seconds, something that certainly shouldn't have him so worked up that he leaks into his tight briefs.

And yet.

Worse still, he stays that way for the rest of the show. Has to sneak adjustments between songs, has to hold his guitar close to his body and give it a little hump every now and then. Just enough to take the edge off. He spends entirely too much time on Swiss' side of the stage, earns questioning looks from Rain and Aeon, but Dew couldn't care less. Not when all he can think about is Swiss getting hands on him for real.

The remaining songs pass in a blur, and Dew cannot take his eyes off of Swiss as they trundle backstage before the encore. His fingers won't stop twitching, every inch of him drenched in sweat and his slight chest heaving. Swiss smiles at him with every tooth in his head, gives him a little finger wave, and Dew can't help himself.

He grips the other ghoul by the ascot and yanks like Swiss is a disobedient dog, drags him bodily behind a pair of equipment cases. Swiss is still grinning when Dew shoves him against them, a sweaty hand wrapped around Swiss' throat.

"You motherfucker," he spits, raspy and tight but muffled by his balaclava. "Why the fuck -"

"Bet I can finish you off before we go back on," Swiss interrupts with a wink, reaching out to rub him through his pants. Dew's eyes go wide at the suggestion, and his stomach does a somersault. "C'mon, lemme make a mess outta you."

Swiss squeezes, and Dew's eyes roll back in his head. It's an insane thought. He knows it is. They have less than two minutes before they have to go back on. It's a ridiculous suggestion. Something he shouldn't even consider.

"Do it," he bites out, rocking against Swiss' palm. "Fuckin' make me."

Swiss snickers, tongue flicking over his teeth, but he listens. Wastes no time in tugging Dew's zipper down and pulling him out, in wrapping talented fingers around his slippery length and thumbing over the tip without hesitation. Dew grunts with it, lets his head thump onto Swiss's shoulder while the other ghoul twists his wrist.

"Oh shit," he huffs, little hips twitching in seconds. "Shit, fuck, don't stop, keep - yeah, like that, like that, oh -"

"Better make it quick," Swiss murmurs, entirely too amused. "Sounds like Papa's almost done."

The reminder really isnt necessary. They both know he's not going to last - he's hot all over already, pulsing and leaking over Swiss' thick fingers. Too worked up too care and too sensitive to fight it.

Swiss rubs at his frenulum, his other hand coming up to rub a nipple through his vest, and Dew chokes as memories of the last time Swiss touched him like that slam through his mind. Memories of countless eyes boring into him, of the shriek of a thousand humans bearing witness to him being groped. He pants into Swiss' throat, loud and labored, and Swiss laughs.

"You're thinkin' about them watching, aren't you?"

Dew gurgles as his hips stutter, the hand on Swiss's throat moving to his chest. An effort to keep himself upright while Swiss invades his mind.

"Wishin' we were still out there, wishin' I could milk it outta you under those bright lights?"

Dew shakes his head, tries to spit words of denial, but all that comes out is a harsh whine. Swiss chuckles again, and his grip changes. Closes around his slick tip and works him hard and fast, just the way he'd mimed on stage earlier. Dew grunts, drools into his balaclava as his knees start to shake. The hand on his chest gives him a nice gripe, and Dew feels his balls draw up.

"Make sure alllll those people saw you cream yourself?"

Swiss gives him one last pull, and Dew groans long and low as he does just that. Pulsing in the tight circle of Swiss' fist, knees wobbling as his cock spills his load over those talented fingers. It dribbles down between them, landing in what little space there is between their boots. Swiss coos in his ear while Dew catches his breath, and as a fresh wave of sweat soaks into his compression shirt Dew shivers.

It's all over just as quickly as it started, their Papa's voice fading back into his consciousness as his orgasmic haze dissipates. He's still teasing the crowd about them being done, about to announce the last three songs, and Dew feels himself flush darker than ever. How long had he lasted? Maybe a minute? He doesn't want to think about it. Instead he steps back, shaking out his arms and tucking himself away while he watches Swiss hold up his messy hand.

"Told ya so," he taunts, wiggling his fingers, and Dew rolls his eyes.

"Shut up," he gripes, zipping up and straightening his vest. The crowd's cheers pick up and Dew bounces on the balls of his feet. "You can be a jackass later, we're up again."

"Hang on," Swiss lilts, pushing himself off the cases and closes the short distance between them. "I still gotta clean up."

Dew raises an eyebrow behind his mask, and before he can do anything else Swiss is pulling down his balaclava.

"Swiss, what -"

Swiss leans in and pecks him on the mouth, and then the other ghoul is stretching it just enough to wipe his sticky fingers off on the inside of it. Right over the drool-soaked portion that they both know will sit right over Dew's mouth. He offers a positively vulpine smile as he tugs the thing back up, and Dew sputters.

"Now we can go," Swiss tells him, grabbing Dew by the elbow and bullying him back towards the others before he can argue. He opens his mouth to try, and all it does is make him taste himself. Fills his nose and mouth with salt and sex, and every bit of it goes right to his spent cock.

"You motherfucker," Dew says again, and Swiss gives his ass another smack.

"Don't be too greedy, firecracker," he murmurs as they move to join the others, "I wanna taste that on you tonight."

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #swiss/dew #swiss x dew #swissdew #i love that this incident has us all in a chokehold #also ignore the sudden ending i had to stop before i went on forever lmao #not rereading before posting so if you see mistakes #no you dont

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ravenssilver · 7 months

Note

I would adore if you could make an Aeon angst where he feels abandoned or like he’s not worth being in the ministry, and one of the ghouls (any of your choice) finds him and comforts him? You don’t have to if you don’t want too I’m just in love with your writing!!

ahh anon !! i will happily throw out some aeon/swiss hurt/comfort. you feed into my muse🫶🫶

here is me indulging in my favorite thing—aka 2.2k words of aeon feeling abandoned and swiss loving on him anyway🤍

cw: aeon being anxious, aeon has minor abandonment issues, minor panic attack

under the cut, if you please<3

Aeon was giddy after a particularly good ritual. He and Swiss seemed to have developed a pre-show ritual of practically being attached to each other’s hips and walking on stage together. He had hit every note perfectly and gotten to every cue, bouncing happily to the beat of the songs all the while. The audience had been fantastic and he had gotten at least five bat plushes thrown at him before bows, and he was sure some of the crew had picked up the rest.

Though, as Aeon took a quick shower to get all his sweat off, he thought about the other ghouls during the ritual.

Cirrus and Cumulus didn’t pay him any mind whenever he went over to them, Dewdrop seemed annoyed when Aeon was all over him during Absolution, Rain didn’t seem all that amused by the slides in Watcher, and Papa seemed actually upset when he had cut in front of him for his part in Year Zero.

Aeon frowned when he remembered how he had subconsciously given up on interacting with the band after Mary On a Cross when Papa didn’t even look at him when the song quieted down for a few measures.

And during Square Hammer, his final chance to maybe get an interaction, Aurora was play flirting with Swiss from across the stage when Aeon was meant to be on her platform.

Aeon hissed when he accidentally got soap in his eye, a frown etched on his face as he felt his heart aching with doubt in himself.

Did his packmates think he was annoying? Did Papa think he was annoying?

Maybe they’re just tired… Yeah, that had to be it. He didn’t remember doing anything wrong, much less annoying.

Aeon quickly finished up with his shower and changed into some clothes he had stolen from Swiss, grinning when he saw the slight bagginess of his pack mate’s clothes on him.

With a pep in his step due to his shower and how he now felt clean, Aeon happily left the dressing room and went to the parking lot where the buses were.

Though, as soon as he got outside he froze in his tracks.

The buses were gone.

A distressed sound left Aeon and be spun around in a circle as if the building behind him would’ve somehow turned into the tour buses. Aeon chuffed worriedly when he just saw the door he had come out of and went back inside, some of his glamor starting to slip as his thoughts spiraled.

They left him. They got on the busses and left him alone. He was stuck—trapped.

Abandoned.

A distressed whine left Aeon and he picked up the pace of his footsteps, desperate to find his pack or his Papa. Aeon felt like his throat was closing up, his ears pinned and twitching at every single noise he heard as his hands started to shake.

Much to his dismay, instead of someone he knew, Aeon ran into a member of the venue staff and he had hurt himself by quickly throwing up his glamor.

Aeon’s head pulsed with an intense ache as his eyes darted around, his glamoured nails clicking as he picked at them.

“Hey, are you alright?” The woman asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she placed her hand on Aeon’s shoulder. Aeon wanted to say yes, try to reassure her that he was fine when he so clearly wasn’t. But when his throat closed up even tighter, tears welled in his eyes and his shaking became a lot more obvious.

“Woah, it’s okay, breathe. Why aren’t you with everyone else out back? They’re leaving for the hotel in about five minutes,” The woman said, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to get Aeon to calm down.

A tear fell from Aeon’s lash line when she told him that. He nodded and turned on his heel, rushing away from her as he went to the back of the venue.

Nobody had told him that there was a rest day after that nights ritual. Nobody had told him that they would be going to a hotel that night instead of getting back on the buses.

Aeon rushed outside, signing in relief when he saw Papa and the rest of his pack standing outside of a van. He wiped his eyes and face of tears, trying to cover up the panic in his scent that he knew was there.

“Ah, there you are,” Copia sighed when Aeon silently walked up next to Rain, huddled in on himself. “We’ve been waiting for you. Where have you been?” Copia asked, his eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t-“ Aeon went to respond, only for Copia to throw his hands up in the air and mumble annoyed Italian to himself as he went to make sure all their bags were ready to go to the hotel.

Another distressed sound left Aeon as he felt a pit form in his stomach. He looked down and pulled the hood of Swiss’ hoodie up over his head, hiding his face from his pack who weren’t paying attention anyway.

Aeon’s shoulders shook as he messed with the end of his sleeves, his body trembling with anxiety as his thoughts continued to spiral.

Look what you did, you made Papa mad. You held everyone up and now they’re all mad at you. You’re cutting off their resting time like a total idiot. How dumb do you have to be to not remember a schedule?

Aeon clambered into the van first as soon as the doors opened, wanting the front row seat closest to the window on the drivers side so nobody would see his tears.

He heard a low growl from Dew, as that was usually the fire ghoul’s spot, the annoyed sound only adding fuel to the dumpster fire that was Aeon’s brain.

He buckled and curled into himself, burying his face in his knees as his thoughts just went further and further down the spiral of self doubt and insecurity.

The next twenty minutes went by in a blur. One moment Aeon was curled up into himself on an uncomfortable seat—the next, Aeon was curled up on an uncomfortable hotel couch as he stared at the wall, tears slowly trailing down his face.

Aeon had fully unglamoured, his tail wrapped tightly around his ankle as his claws dragged along the discolored part of his face around his right eye. Waves and waves of distress rolled off of him as he whimpered every now and then.

They all hate you. You’re just a replacement for someone they all loved. A penny in the crater sized hole in their hearts where the prior quintessence ghoul was.

The better quintessence ghoul.

Aeon sobbed, closing his eyes and burying his face into the hoodie he had stolen from his favorite multi-ghoul.

He wasn’t Swiss’ favorite, though.

Aeon whined and immediately tore off Swiss’ hoodie and sweatpants, chucking the clothes across the hotel room, leaving him in his boxers.

Aeon snuffled and laid back down, curling up into himself even tighter as to fight off the chill of the unreasonably cold hotel room.

He wanted Swiss. Dewdrop, even.

He wanted to be warm. He wanted to be loved. Appreciated by the creatures he had around him everyday. Aeon loved the crowd’s praise, but he wanted his pack now. Even just one of them would suffice.

He wanted to know that they saw how hard he was trying. He wanted to know that they appreciated him for stepping into shoes that were far too big and running the miles anyway.

He just wanted to be seen.

“Stardust..?”

Aeon picked up his head and looked over at the door to his hotel room, his ear twitching as he heard Swiss’ voice.

“Hey… Aeon, you awake? C’mon, your scent changed, I know you hear me..” Swiss said, knocking on the door again.

Aeon looked over at the digital clock that was across the room, taking a moment to remember everything Mountain taught him about reading a clock.

It had been two hours since they got to the hotel.

“Bug? Can you come to the door?” Swiss spoke again, regaining Aeon’s attention.

Aeon scrambled up, not wanting to annoy Swiss even more than he thought he had. Aeon snatched the duvet on his bed and struggled to get it off the mattress due to the unnecessarily tight tucking of the bedding.

As soon as Aeon managed to get the duvet off the bed, he fell to the floor with a yelp due to how suddenly the tension released. The little quint scrambled back up to his feet and wrapped the duvet around his mostly bare body, ignoring the pain in his hip from the fall.

Aeon opened the door and peaked through, his lilac eyes staring up into Swiss’. The multi-ghoul quickly moved closer when he saw Aeon wasn’t glamoured.

And to Aeon’s dismay, that allowed Swiss to see the tear streaks on his face.

“Stardust, what’s wrong?” Swiss frowned, gently cupping Aeon’s cheek with his big hand. Aeon snuffled, choking back a sob as he leaned into Swiss’ hand.

Swiss frowned and crowded Aeon back into his room, closing the hotel door and locking it before he brought Aeon over to his bed and sat him down, pulling the duvet around tighter around the smaller ghoul’s body when he felt how cold it was in the room.

“Talk to me, Tommy, what’s wrong?” Swiss spoke softly, his eyebrows creased with worry as he brushed his thumb over the little quint’s cheekbone. Aeon’s bloodshot eyes hesitantly looked into Swiss’ as he sniffled again, wiping the snot away from his face with his wrist.

It was gross, but Swiss was far too concerned about Aeon’s tears to even notice his actions.

“I… I feel like you don’t like me. Like-“ Aeon sobbed softly and covered his face. “Like you’ve all been lying to me and that you don’t want me here…”

Swiss’ heart shattered.

“Oh, bug…” Swiss whispered as he swept Aeon up into his arms. It was all he could say at the moment, his own devastation rushing through him.

Swiss didn’t know what he or the pack had done to make Aeon feel this way, but he would kick himself for eternity because of it.

“You will always, always be wanted, Stardust. I know that if the others were here, they’d be all over you telling you the exact same thing.” Swiss whispered, holding Aeon close to his chest as the smaller ghoul sobbed out all his sudden and overwhelming emotions.

Swiss let Aeon cry, not once shushing him or trying to get him to stop crying. He didn’t want Aeon to feel like he was being a burden, so Swiss let him cry until he felt better.

“Swiss…?” Aeon whispered after about 10 or so minutes, seemingly shy. Swiss hummed and looked down at Aeon, staring into his lilac eyes with as much love and affection that he could muster. “I… can you get my clothes..? I threw them over there…” Aeon mumbled, pointing across the room.

“Of course, babybat, one second,” Swiss said immediately, gently setting Aeon back on the mattress and pressing a kiss to his forehead before rushing over to where Aeon had pointed.

Swiss picked up the dark gray hoodie and sweatpants, his eyebrows furrowing when he recognized the feel of the fabric.

“Are these mine?” Swiss asked, wondering if they were his favorite set that he had lost. Aeon shrunk into himself and nodded as Swiss walked over. “I took them a few months ago.. I’m sorry..” Aeon apologized, looking sad.

“Don’t be sorry,” Swiss smiled, shaking his head as he gently guided Aeon to unwrap himself of the duvet. Swiss mumbled a quiet: “watch your horns…” as he slipped the hoodie over Aeon’s head, smiling when he saw just how adorable the smaller ghoul looked in his clothes.

“The gray matches your skin better anyway,” Swiss shrugged with a grin, ruffling Aeon’s shaggy black hair and helping him into the sweatpants. Aeon chirruped softly and leaned into Swiss’ touch, a quiet little purr starting up in his chest as Swiss swept him off his feet.

Aeon laughed happily, a grin on his face as Swiss laid him down, his head resting on the pillows. Swiss re-situated the bedding and laid down next to Aeon after flicking off all the lights, nuzzling Aeon’s nose as they settled into the bed together.

“Feeling better…?” Swiss asked softly, brushing his thumb over Aeon’s cheekbone, his eyes taking in Aeon’s appearance in the darkness. Aeon thought for a moment before nodding slightly, only to shake his head.

Swiss frowned, cupping Aeon’s jaw with his big hand.

“Talk to me?”

Aeon sighed a bit before starting to explain.

“You made me feel better than I did.. but I.. I guess I’m still thinking about the others. You can only promise so much, y’know?” Aeon mumbled, sounding sad. Swiss’ frown deepened but Aeon was right.

From the quint’s point of view, Swiss’ words about the others were just as good as the lies his brain was feeding him.

“Do you want me to talk to them? Have them talk to you?” Swiss asked, wanting Aeon to feel at home in the pack. “Can I… um.. can I try to talk to them first?” Aeon asked, sounding nervous.

Swiss’ heart swelled and he nodded immediately.

“Of course you can, Stardust. I’ll let you go about this however you please….” Swiss whispered, kissing Aeon’s forehead between his horns.

Aeon purred and leaned into the kiss, cuddling up closer to Swiss.

“Thank you, Swiss.”

“Anytime, Stardust.”

#aeon ghoul #ghost band #ghost the band #phantom ghoul #the band ghost #swiss ghoul #swiss x aeon #swiss x phantom #I’m sorry i can’t stop writing this kind of aeon angst #i love it so much so i probably won’t stop #also #this isn’t a part of until you find me hiding #just putting it out there #raven’s responses #ravenssilver writes #nameless ghouls #nameless ghouls ficlet

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