redamancy ❣︎ ghost fics & drabbles

cumuswiss period sex drabble

thinking about cumulus and how she's getting close to that time of the month. she's getting brattier and more irritable but also her tits are so sensitive- her nipples are so sensitive they hurt. and she's so horny, like all the time, but she'll never admit it.

but swiss knows. and he's got her wholly mapped out during this time. he's poked the beast, reaped the benefits that nobody else knows about a handful of times and each time is better than the last.

cumulus holds herself highly, acts like a lady, but when swiss comes around while she's pms'ing in the common room and bends her over the back of the couch she can't do anything but think "fucking finally". and swiss will drag her back to one of their rooms, take his time undressing her while she spits venom at him for interrupting her show, but it's music to his ears.

he takes his time with her tits, sucking and licking and kneading while she whines about the soreness in her tissues. and he'll only press harder, squeeze her hardened nipple between the pads of his fingers until she gasps and digs her claws into his hair, or his shoulders, or his back... but the soreness travels like lightning through her spine and hurts so good that she could cry. they're so sensitive and he knows exactly what he's doing. it doesn't take long before she's cumming from his mouth on her skin alone.

undressing her and exposing her sex is the best part. the multi ghoul revels in it; the overwhelming smell of her and her blood that mix in his senses and flood his eyes dark with lust.

he's the only person she'll let do this to her.

he sinks in, slowly despite the lack of resistance from mixed fluids, and grips her tight by her waist. his fingers press into soft flesh and he goes lightheaded when she sighs and demands for more. he's more than willing to give it to her.

she coats him in red, masks his scent almost completely with her own, and the multi ghoul submits like he's been influenced by dark magick. he feels like his head is full of helium, his skin stuffed with static, and her heat wrapped around him hurls him towards the edge so quickly every single time. when he looks down he takes in the mess she's made in his hair and the crimson stains she'll leave on the sheets. it's art in its most natural and beautiful form.

she lets him fuck the soreness and the tension out of her and she guides him on exactly where she needs him—how she needs him. and he's more than willing to listen. it's a ritual at this point, carefully carried out until the very end when she finally tells him he can cum. the heat of his seed floods her, warms her from the inside until all of her pain dissipates like it was never there at all... except for the crimson that coats both of their thighs.