𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 14: 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌

Mushy May Day 17: Funny T-shirts

Sunny likes to poke fun at Swiss with custom t-shirts, much to his chagrin.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and @ghuleh-recs for making the dividers! <3

The note for this in my outline was "a la mercer and riegel" if that makes sense to anyone lol.

Swiss looks up from his breakfast, a bowl of granola and berries and yogurt, as Sunny bounds into the kitchen, her copper curls bouncing as she enters with a suspicious spring in her step. "Hiya, spark!" She greets him, settling into one of the chairs across from him. Rain and Aurora look up as well, wishing the other multi-ghoulette a good morning.

His eyes settle on the collar of her oversized button up, clearly one of Aether's. "Morning, ember," he says, trying to copy her enthusiasm and not quite making it. "You go clothes raiding again?" He takes another bite of his breakfast, watching her expectantly. Something's not quite right here, button ups not usually Sunny's style.

She shrugs, still grinning, snatching the carafe of orange juice and pouring herself a glass. As Sunny leans to reach, the collar of the button up droops, revealing the hem of a bright orange t-shirt. Nothing more than that, but it's enough for Swiss's spoon to clink against his bowl as he buries his face in his hands.

"Another one, Sunny?" he groans. "How many shirts. Please."

Rain and Aurora turn, eyes brightening in intrigued laughter as Sunny takes a drink, smugly settling back in her chair.

"Now, Swissy, I have no idea what you could be talking about," she says, batting her eyelashes at him.

It's her favorite way to poke fun at him. Awful candid photos of him, blown up and custom printed somewhere online, hidden under zip up hoodies and button ups that she takes off to reveal like the world's most embarrassing strip tease. There have been ones taken while he's sleeping, mouth open, snoring and drooling, and ones that were the unfortunate results of a mistimed blink while taking pictures with the pack. Fortunately, or unfortunately for Sunny, there are no kit pictures, no way to bring them after being summoned Up Top.

He hates the way it makes his face burn, but it makes the pack laugh, and makes Sunny's cheeks dimple with her grin in a way that makes Swiss feels crazy. So he endures it. (He'll never admit that he thinks it's funny too.)

"Noooooo," he groans, peeking through his fingers as Sunny stands, unbuttoning her top button.

"How many of those do you have, sunbeam?" Rain asks, staring smugly at Swiss's over the top distress. "Ten? Twenty?"

"This one makes fourteen," Sunny says, undoing another two buttons.

Swiss rubs his temples, pretending a headache's coming on. "Emberrrrrrrr," he drags out in a groan. "Come on, get it over with."

"As you wish." Sunny copies his signature grin, all of her teeth on display, hands moving down farther and farther, each button slipping through the button hole. Finally, Aether's shirt falls open, revealing a Ritual picture of him.

It's the lowest quality picture of him Swiss has ever seen, only thing distinct about his features are the bug like lenses and the bright white of his teeth against the black helmet. He had been grinning menacingly at that Ritual, but the grainy picture makes him look dorky. There's words across the top and bottom, all caps in Impact font, declares "Swiss Shirt Bottom Text"

"I made a shirt for you, sparky!" Sunny beams, watching Swiss groan. "You like it?"

Swiss growls, silverware clattering as he shoots to his feet, Rain and Aurora's laughter echoing around the kitchen. Sunny squeaks, eyes wide as she darts off, Swiss in close pursuit.

If you're comfortable doing so, maybe something that delves into Phantom/Aeons time in the pit and how his bad experiences there impact him now that he's topside

hey? hey anon? how did you know I've been wanting to talk about Aeon's parents for six months?

Contains child abuse and discussion of child abandonment, eye injury, and nightmares. Aeon uses they/them for themself, but their parents don't know that and use he/him for them.

(this does expand on lore I wrote for Eternal Heatstroke, but you don't need to read that to read this)

divider by @wrathofrats

"The kit's not getting any bigger, Oasis."

Aeon's left ear twitches at the sound of Caldera's voice, rough and crackling like her fire. They come to awareness, but don't dare open their eyes. They don't want their guardians to know they're awake yet, the sinking feeling in their gut telling them that they are not supposed to be witnessing this conversation. The ground is rough underneath their side, and the campfire crackles in flashes of orange even through their eyelids. The three of them have been settled here for a little over a week, about time to pack up and move through the older ghouls' territory, finding somewhere else to bed down.

"How many times have I told you that quint kits are called pups, Cal," Oasis sighs. There's the sound of a hand running over a face. Both of them have been doing that a lot more recently, and Aeon can't tell who it is without opening their eyes. The air is thick with sulfur and smoke, and it stings at their nose.

"Frankly, I don't fucking care what they're called," she says. "We've been raising him for Lucifer knows how long because we thought he'd be strong enough to help us defend our territory. And he's at the point he should have grown. He's still so small."

There's disdain in her voice, one of her paws tapping at the ground in irritation. Aeon's brow furrows. They're not small. They might be skinny, but they're a full head taller than Caldera is, just above eye level with Oasis. They do know that Cal's small for a fire ghoulette, has encountered other fire ghouls who've tried to claim what their guardians have staked as their own.

"Cal, you've gotta have patience-" Oasis tries to reason, but he's never been able to stop her. When Caldera sets her mind to something, Aeon knows she stops at nothing to get her way.

"How long have we been going hungry to keep him around?" she growls, and Aeon can almost hear the sparks from her tongue. "Years and years of our lives, I'm so fucking tired of waiting. The kit can hardly even use his magick and he's practically an adult."

"What do we even know about quintessence ghouls, Cal?" Oasis keeps trying to reason. "We can't teach him magick we don't even understand."

"I don't fucking care," Caldera snarls at her mate. "I'm done. Keeping him was your idea in the first place. You want to keep the kit around? That'll be on you then. But then I'm out."

There's a commotion, someone getting to their feet rapidly. "That's just fucking like you, Cal. You'd really give up on how long we've been mated over our son?"

Caldera laughs, loud enough that Aeon thinks they have a solid excuse to wake up. They keep feigning sleep though. "Our son? Oasis, are you insane? You were the one who thought a quintessence ghoul be a good investment for the pack."

Aeon's heart falls through their stomach, trying desperately to process what they're hearing. Investment. Oasis had always told them that he'd found them, small and abandoned, so young that their eyes hadn't even opened yet. That the two of them wanted a kit to take care of. They feel like the rug's been yanked out from under them.

They don't have much time to process it though, because Oasis sighs, tossing something back and forth between his hands. Aeon doesn't need to open their eyes to know it's a pebble, something that had caught his eye at some point. "Fine, Cal. But you tell him."

Aeon tenses as rapid footsteps approach their sleeping form, trying hard to not curl up into a ball preemptively. A hot hand grabs their shoulder, the threatening bite of sharp claws even through their threadbare shirt.

"Wake up," Caldera says, low and dangerous as she shakes their shoulder. Even though they had some warning, they still yelp, tail tucked between their legs. Their eyes go wide at the fury in Caldera's expression, her growl as she hauls them to their feet.

"Cal-" Aeon stammers, trying not to struggle against her grip. Knows it's easier to let her put them where she wants than to fight it.

"None of that, runt," she snaps, and both of their violet eyes go wide. She's never- They've never- "You're grown, now. It's time for you to find your own place."

"Right now?" Aeon says, tipping their head back and baring their throat, trying to appease her. All the while, Oasis stands by the fire, watching distantly. "Oasis, please tell her I can't."

"He's not going to help you, runt. We're both ready for you to go," Cal says. There's a fire in her yellow eyes, red and orange flickering in her irises.

They stammer, glancing back and forth between their guardians. "That's not true, I heard you talking-" Aeon freezes and cuts themself off as Caldera's expression morphs, grip curling tighter into the collar of Aeon's shirt, claws punching through the threadbare fabric. They can feel the keratin against their skin, and they swallow hard.

"Oh? So you were eavesdropping?"

"No- I couldn't help it!"

She growls, pulling hard and shoving them towards the campfire. They stumble, paw catching on the brimstone, and they fall hard, twisting onto their back to look up at her. "I'm not going to say it again," she snarls, looming above them. The firelight makes her features sharper, fangs shining. "Get the fuck out."

They slowly push themself up to standing. Aeon finds the courage in their gut to growl back at her, ears pinned back against their head, tail lashing behind them as they bare their fangs and get in her face. "I'm not fucking going anywhere, this is my pack too!"

Aeon knows it's a mistake the moment the words leave their mouth.

Caldera screams in frustration and rage. The last thing Aeon sees out of their left eye is her claws glinting dark in the firelight.

There's a shriek. Aeon wonders why their throat hurts until they realize it's them shrieking. The world spins, blinding hot pain radiating from their face and scalp, and they can feel their heartbeat in the marrow of their left horn. They can't see.

They can't see.

There's something hot and sticky running down their face, and they cup their hand over their eye, cringing at the wetness.

Caldera doesn't even flinch as Aeon's blood drips in rivulets from her claws. "You fucking heard me, you ungrateful brat. We've fed and taken care of you your entire life. You can pay us back by fucking leaving."

She lunges, and Aeon's feet act on instinct, scrambling away from her. They clutch their face, hearing the blood spatter, their shirt sticking to their chest, heavy and wet. Aeon's head spins, and Caldera's behind them, chasing, and Aeon's seen her hunt.

There's no chance of outrunning her, even as their legs scramble underneath them. They run, lungs aching and head spinning, and there's two pounding sets of footfalls behind them.

Aeon sobs, chest heaving with exertion. Their ankle twists in the brimstone, and they stumble into the ground. Blood and tears stream down their cheeks in equal measure. It's over. They're de-

There's a hand on their shoulder.

Aeon jolts awake with a yelp, scrambling backwards into the corner of the couch out from under a big piece of white fabric that was covering them. It takes a moment to recognize their surroundings, fluorescent lights, a big desk in the opposite corner, an empty office chair, slightly rotating like someone stood up in a hurry. A large shape backlit looms over them, making a strange, familiar sound.

Aeon snarls before the sound registers, their entire body slumping as Aether chuffs at them. "Hey, you're alright, pup, you're safe," he breathes, his big hand hovering over their shoulder, his silver bracelet glinting in the light. "You were dreaming."

They nod, reaching up to touch at the scars running through though their left eye and biting back a sob. Aether nods back, cautiously sitting next to the younger quintessence ghoul and pulling them close, chuffing all the while.

"My shift just ended," Aether whispers, shifting them until Aeon's practically in his lap. "Do you want to go back to the den?"

Aeon nods quietly. Aether gently wipes away a tear from the silvery track across their cheek with a big thumb. They've been shadowing him to learn about infirmary work, a few months away from actually working on their own. "You want a hug, pup?"

"Please," they whisper, shoving Aether's white coat off of their legs. They'd been using it as a blanket while they napped on the couch in his office. The bigger ghoul draws them in, chuffing and nosing at their hair.

Aeon settles, eventually, and they stand hand in hand. "Can we go home?" Aeon asks, and Aether smiles, flashing a gold capped fang at them.

"Of course, pup, let's go home to our pack."

When you have to give out your password to Vudu so an almost 4 year old can watch Sharknado.

Love that little green bean

silhouette

Can’t wait for the ghost tags to be filled with hands <3

Mushy may prompt list by the wonderful @forlorn-crows

Day 20: gardening

I was sad and this image came to me so here we are. Also the last prompt I'm doing for this one, it was fun 🖤

Mountain/Dew a touch of angst from Dew but he's ok

Dew nervously twists the toe of his shoe in the loose little pebbles of the path just outside of the greenhouse. It feels weird, like standing in front of a shell of a home he used to live in, like a ghost keeping to the shadows, hoping to not be caught so it's allowed to stay.

This used to be his favorite place, one of the first he got comfortable in after he was summoned. He couldn't count the hours he spent down here with Mountain, smiling, laughter dissolving into make outs and rosy cheeks. They are memories he doesn't think about often, his shadow in the images bleeding into Rain's shape, seeing him fit so perfectly where Dew once had.

He doesn't regret his transition but there were losses all the same. This one stings though, a nagging little papercut that persists no matter how much time passes.

He loved this place. He loved Mountain in this place, he loved how he had Mountain in this place, just the two of them.

Nothing was stopping him from going down, not really. Nothing apart from his own mind, how it flashed with flames when he thought of going in, how he worried to touch the plants he used to help nourish, terrified he'd burn their little leaves to ash. Afraid he'd do the same to Mountain.

He knew it was stupid. He'd been with Mountain countless times since the transition but there is something about the greenhouse that feels like he just....can't cross that line he drew in the sand.

"Dew?"

He jumps at Mountain's voice, so lost in his own thoughts he hadn't heard him opening the door and wandering out partially. His hands are dirty and Dew misses the grit against his skin when Mount would guide him through repotting a little sprout.

"Sorry...shit sorry I just I'm...I'm-"

"Coming in this time?" He sounds hopeful, painfully so and when Dew risks it all and meets his eyes they're bright, almost begging without words.

He glances between the giant and the glass structure behind him, the warm air inside and the dim little fairy lights inviting...

"I..."

"S'ok." Mountain smiles, just a little thing, reaching his hand out as he backs into the greenhouse.

He takes a hesitant step forward, like maybe the earth outside the entrance is boobie trapped for him. He grabs Mountain's hand with his breath and heartbeat both trapped in his throat when Mountain tugs him softly over the threshold.

It all floods back to him. The smells, the humid air, the way Mountain feels different here.

"Take your time." Mountain doesn't drop his hand but he doesn't pin him with his eyes either, focusing instead on some little bunch of flowers that still have little drops of water clinging to their delicate petals.

He thinks of Rain, thinks of his gentle touch, thinks of his own hands and how much he loved this, how Mountain would smile just for him and he would turn to face him like a little bloom chasing the sun.

"I shouldn't...I shouldn't be in here."

"Why?"

"It's just not mine anymore. I can't give them anything." He clears his throat hoping his words don't shake. "It's Rain's now."

Mountain tilts his head, his ears drooping a bit. "Do you know the very first thing Rain does every single time he's in here?"

And obviously he doesn't! He shakes his head and Mountain grabs his hand, pulling him off to plants that are thriving along one of the walls.

"He comes to these because you planted them. Out of everything in here, these are his favorite because you took care of them."

"But-"

"No but. You've never not belonged here. I understand why you stopped, why maybe it felt different but different doesn't mean wrong, it certainly never meant unwelcome."

Dew wants to turn into Mountain's chest but he doesn't, his hands shake as he lets the words sink in as his eyes stay glued to the plants he had loved so much because Mount had taught him how.

"I know the things you think about yourself Dew." He squeezes his fingers, pulls his knuckles up to kiss them. "I know what you're afraid these hands will do, but I know them. I know you."

Dew let's himself look at his hands and he knows he knows how to be gentle, how to touch with softness and care. He loves more often than he bruises but the fear still simmers just under his skin that one day he will lose control of what he is and he will be helpless to stop it.

"Come here, I want to show you something."

Dew let's Mountain lead him off, cocking his head when the giant stops in front of a bed of succulents.

"Is this your way of calling me a prick?" His lips twitch with the possibility of a smile.

Mountain laughs and shakes his head, the tension easing off his face. "No you ding dong!"

Dews glad for the distraction, the laughter between them standing here feels so familiar and he hadn't fully realized just how much he actually missed it.

"I started growing them after your transition. I...I needed something that felt like you in here, I needed something to show you..."

"Show me what?"

"That you don't need your water to be beautiful." His eyes drift from one of the little cactus flowers just starting to bloom among the spikes it sits on to Dew's eyes.

Dew lifts up onto his toes and kisses him. Mountain's big dirty hands slot against his back perfectly, fitting just right the way they always did. Hes dizzy with the memories, a welcome sort of deja vu as he melts against Mountain.

Mountain smiles when they break apart, fingers brushing Dew's hair back, cheeks pink.

"Welcome back, droplet."

The poll spoke loudly. Y’all really ship Phantom / Aeon with Swiss, but Aether was a close 2nd which was surprising. Using Phantom as the name today… Special mention of Sunshine bc I forgot her in my poll.

Adult themes; but no actual smut (sorry!) However, I could be persuaded for a part two…

Phantom’s first time - below the cut:

Garden of Eden

The need is there. Held tight beneath layers of sinew and skin. Burning deep inside, begging for release.

He can feel their gaze upon him.

Hungry. Wanting.

He knows he’s fresh from the pit, the shiny new toy topside. He’s also young. Younger than the others, but by no means inexperienced in the grand sense.

He’s aware that they are all together. It’s ghoulish nature to fornicate. But what he is surprised to find here is the closeness they all share. Dew and Rain are together more often than not. Cumulus and Cirrus don’t stray far from each other, with the exceptions being for Mountain and Sunshine. He knows they’d gladly welcome him but his thoughts are drawn elsewhere.

Aurora has had her time occupied with Swiss which doesn’t bother him at all. He huffs at himself for even being the slightest bit jealous. The big ghoul with his broad shoulders and warm skin, stretched tight across his back and arms. And his hips.. the way those lines disappear into his pants when he’s shirtless in the den.

He’s been caught looking and flushes straight to the tips of his pointed ears every time. Making excuses and fleeing the room.

He spends most of his time with Aether. The older Quintessence ghoul providing him education and a safe space to learn. Leaning over him to point out a line in the text or to show him a tricky bridge in one of the songs. His large chest pressed against Phantom’s back, with a warmth he can’t help but sink into.

It’s comforting and he can’t help but imagine what it would feel like to let him in. To let Aether be his first, to be encircled in those strong arms, pinned underneath.

“Ahem…” Aether clears his throat. Smirking at the daydreaming ghoul before him. Caught and blushing. Cute, he thinks.

“Did you want to finish this later? We could go watch a movie instead? I know it’s been a long day.” Aether prods. Violet eyes glittering, a tiny quirk of his lip bares the slightest hint of fang. Sliver capped and glinting in the light.

He shivers imagining what that feels like.

“Sure” he gulps as he swallows, sure this is it. The moment he’s been waiting for. Finally ready to experience all the earthly pleasures that await him. They exit the practice room and head back towards the den.

“I’ll go grab some snacks - why don’t you wait in my room? I’ll grab us some drinks too.” Aether veers off towards the kitchen, indicating his room down the hall.

Phantom enters, turning the knob, and pushing the door open, ignoring the tremble in his hand.

Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror - pale and wild eyed.. he’s got to get a grip. It’s just sex, but what if Aether didn’t like him like that? What if he just wants to watch a movie?

He hesitated before taking a seat on the end of the bed. Toeing off his shoes as Aether enters. He smiles at Phantom finding him perched on the very edge the bed.

“Come on, let’s get comfy..” he prods, climbing onto the mattress and flopping on his side to face Phantom.

“What movie are we going to watch?” Phantom asks, glancing around and realizing that there’s no tv visible.

“Actually, I’ve got something better in mind.” Aether grins, as Swiss slips through the door. The click as it closes makes Phantom gasp, head cranked around and eyes wide as he realizes he’s caught between the two ghouls.

Swiss steps forward, his warm golden eyes luminous as he smiles, predatory at Phantom.

“I bet we can put on a show of our own, don’t you think Aeth?” He chuckles.

“What do you say, bug? Do you want to play with us?”

“Both of you?” He stammers. He’d never even considered this possibility and no way was it happening right now.

“We’ve seen you watching us. Thought you might want this.” Swiss purrs.

Swiss steps closer, nearly between Phantom’s knees, putting his hand on the side of Phantom’s face, thumb brushing across his cheek and dragging down his bottom lip.

Subconsciously, his tongue darts out to chase it, and Swiss rumbles something that ends in a low growl.

His eyes widen as he looks up at Swiss, his pupils dark, hungry. His magic tingles in his veins, considering the world of unknowns and a universe of possibilities.

He feels the heat of Aether against his back, suddenly on his knees behind him, arms slipping around to caress his chest, his warm breath on Phantom’s neck.

He shivers involuntarily as he steels himself, considering his options before uttering a single word.

“Please…”

Mushy may prompt list by the wonderful @forlorn-crows

Divider by the lovely @ghuleh-recs

(also if you haven't checked out @autumnblooms art, you should! Their Phantom/Aeon/bug is always the way I picture him in my head 🖤🖤🖤)

Day 15: painting on each other. Swiss/Aeon

Swiss sits back, glancing down at the bare expanse of Aeon's back. He's settled across the back of his thighs, the Quint stripped down to nothing, the warm spring sun peeking through the curtains, wanting a chance to taste the nighttime sky for himself.

Swiss dips his finger into the gold paint beside him, shifting his hips to reach the base of Aeon's neck, the little starburst mark that trickles down into galaxies. Swiss knows them all, has traced every single inch of him, had tasted each one.

He watches Aeon smile when he touches him, when he paints down along his spine, leaving the knobby path to the side, to trail over a light patch, to add color, his color, to Aeon's body.

Swiss bites his lip when he thinks about it, how he likes to believe Lucifer left spots blank on Aeon simply so Swiss could fill the space, so he could blend into him, to mark him as his, a claim so beautiful it belonged in a museum.

He traces his lightning, the electric storm that surges through his veins, decorates the midnight sky of Aeons back, bolts of lightning to bring out the starlight freckles. He weaves delicate trails like his smoke, little wisps to curl around and connect the constellations.

Aeon glances back over his shoulder, a little smirk pulling at his lips. "I'm chilly."

He knows he's not, knows he's burning hot but he's hungry for touch and Swiss would never deny a request from Aeon's lips. He presses forward, plants his chest against Aeon's back, the still wet paint smearing between them, two canvases making one masterpiece.

"Better?" He kisses his shoulder, tastes gold paint and lightning and starlight and Aeon.

He wiggles until Swiss let's him turn over, until they are chest to chest, neither caring about the paint on the sheets. It doesn't matter when Aeon can feel Swiss' heart against his, when he can feel each breath add a little more color to his skin. He glances down, looks along the line of the bodies pressed together, the way the paint looks on him versus how it looks on Swiss.

Colors, their colors, blended and beautiful, swirling together like the knots that weave their souls.

He smiles and kisses him, watches color flood Swiss cheeks, watches the gold of his eyes fill with fire.

"I am now."

and/or 15. and Dewther for the smut prompts?

"I want to hear you beg" and 15. "You're mine" from this prompt list

I had a lot of thoughts about possessive, jealous Aether and writing this was v fun.

Could be read as dubcon but both Dew and Aether are very into it. Contains scent kink, grinding, and a late night handjob.

divider by @wrathofrats <3

He can almost taste it. It clings to the roof of his mouth, cloying and taunting. Aether's nostrils flare, unable to escape the scent that isn't quite right. It's late. Too late. The room is pitch black, and all Aether can hear is the soft breathing, gentle snuffling snores that come with each of Dew's exhales.

His mate is settled on his chest, one hand gently curled into the collar of Aether's sleep shirt, the other tucked around his shoulder. Aether holds him close, wide awake despite the hour, despite having Dew so close.

In fact, it's because Dew's so close that he can't find sleep. Aether is intimately aware of the ghoul in his arms. Knows him better than he knows himself at this point, how he takes his coffee, how he scores his picks, every superstitious ritual he's ever been privy to. How his piety looks more human than any of the other ghouls Aether's ever met.

It could be argued, then, that Aether knows what Dew smells like. But under the campfire smoke, the caramelized sugar that comes with his sleepy contentedness, and the faint, ever-present tobacco is something carbonated and sharp. Quintessence.

Normally, Aether would take no mind of Dew smelling of quintessence. But therein lies the problem: Dew doesn't smell like his quintessence.

The logical part of Aether's brain knows why. Dew's been sharing a lot of space with Aeon in rehearsals and in the commons, the younger ghoul brushing up against him in search of approval and comfort. No outright scenting or challenging. But the animal part of Aether's brain doesn't give a shit about that.

His mate smells like a different quintessence ghoul. This needs amending.

A tiny voice breaks the quiet, mumbling with sleep. "Aeth?"

Aether realizes too late that he's growling.

Dew shifts on top of him. His movements kick up another wave of his scent, and that's all the animal part of his brain can take. He surges up, flipping them until he's straddling Dew's hips, looming over and dwarfing him.

Dew's body thuds against the mattress, copper eyes fluttering open with a squeak, narrow chest heaving. Aether knows what Dew's seeing: two glowing violet eyes hanging in the pitch black of their room.

The growl still bubbling in his throat, Aether bends to rub his cheek against the line of Dew's jaw, along his throat. He can hear the way his stubble scrapes against Dew's skin, catches on what remains of his gills.

"You're mine," he rumbles, low and dangerous into Dew's ear. The sharp scent of fear and confusion fades to something almost irritated but fond, muddy with sleep. Dew tips his chin back, whining soft and placating.

"'M yours, starshine," he agrees, voice and posture softer than Dew will ever show anyone else. Aether preens, doubling down as he rubs his own ozone scent against Dew's scarred throat.

"You don't smell like mine," he says, huffing as he catches another faint whiff of Aeon's scent. His hips press down, pinning his little mate to the mattress.

Dew gasps with the sudden force of it, taking a deep, shaky breath. "I smell like yours," he mumbles, not quite awake yet even with Aether's cock hardening against the line of his hip. "Dunno what you're talking about."

Aether growls louder, pressing the flats of his fangs against the matescar in the crook of Dew's neck. "You smell like them," he says, shoving a thick thigh between Dew's, feels him start to chub up in interest. "I'm gonna fix that."

He takes both of Dew's bony wrists in one hand, pinning them above his head as he starts to rut against his hip. He mouths at Dew's jaw, kissing and licking a stripe along his scarred gills. It draws a strangled groan from his throat, breath hot against Aether's skin. "Fuck, make me, make me yours again," Dew gasps, pushing his hips up off the bed, bucking into the crease between Aether's thigh and hip.

Aether stills, something almost feral in his eye. "I want to hear you beg for it," he croons, low and dark and dangerous. He pins Dew's hips to the bed with the hand not holding his wrists, putting a stop to any and all bids for friction. "Beg me to make you mine."

He feels more than hears Dew's panting breaths, already so worked up. He always is when he leverages his size like this. Words don't come to him, whining soft and offering the line of his throat to the bigger ghoul, tilting his head to expose the matescar Aether left on him all those years ago. Dew's wrists flex in Aether's grip, but there's no real struggle.

"Give me words, darling," Aether says, settling into a slow, filthy grind. He's not cruel, even like this. He shoves his thigh back between Dew's legs, using his grip on his hip to drag him up and down the tensed muscle.

Dew keens, back arching and copper eyes fluttering shut. "Fuck!"

"Yeah, darling?" He tightens his grip, hoping that it'll bruise by morning. Dew pants under him, pinned and unable to move. Aether can feel his body heat radiating, burning hotter and hotter with each grind of his hips.

"Kiss me?" he asks, and Aether's blindsided for just a moment. Aether's never been able to deny Dew anything.

He dips down, catching his mate's lips with his own. It's surprisingly tender, despite the thick scent of sex that's starting to fill the room, of their combined scents. Dew melts into it, back arching as he tries to get more contact with his mate, straining against Aether's grip.

Aether only breaks the kiss to press his face against Dew's sharp collarbones, rubbing Dew with his scent. He presses a kiss to Dew's matescar just to feel him shudder beneath him. He mouths lower, playing with the silver barbell through one pink nipple. Dew gasps, rutting his hips against Aether's stomach.

"Please, Aeth, starshine, please make me yours again," he whines, doing his best to rub his own cheek against him.

Aether grins, his gold fang glinting in the dark. He ruts against him, groaning in Dew's ear as his cock throbs against his hip, leaking pre until he's just as wet as Dew. "Yeah, darling boy?" He croons, almost growling as the pleasure and possession swirl inside him, coiling in his gut. "You want me to make you mine?"

Dew nods, bucking his hips up jerkily to meet his thrusts. "Please," he breathes, desperately hooking his leg around the back of Aether's thigh, trying to get a better angle.

"I will, baby, I will," Aether promises, pushing him into the mattress with the force of his thrusts. "Make sure they all can smell it, you're mine, darling."

Aether's so worked up that it only takes a few more thrusts before he's keeping his promise. He cums between their stomachs, grunting with each pulse of his cock. He digs his teeth gently into Dew's matescar, groaning loudly into his too-warm skin. He lets go of Dew's wrists to prop himself up, not trusting himself from just crushing his mate

"Fuck," Dew pants, carding through Aether's mohawk. "I smell right now, huh, starshine?"

Aether nods, gently as to not irritate the matescar too much, his teeth still clamped down. He feels it calming, panting into Dew's shoulder as the aftershocks fade.

As his mind clears, Aether's suddenly much more aware of the hot line of Dew's cock pressed into his cock. He releases his bite, kissing apologetically up his throat until he takes his lips again. "'m sorry for waking you, darling. Let me make it better?" he asks, curling a big hand around his length.

Dew's breath hitches, and he keens into Aether's mouth as he sets a merciful pace, twisting his wrist at the tip just the way he knows Dew likes. His hips buck, and Aether lets him chase his pleasure. It doesn't take long before Dew's spilling over his knuckles.

Aether swallows every one of Dew's cries, whispers praise and thanks against his lips. When Dew slumps back down against the mattress, both of their messes smeared on their stomachs and scents strong with each other, Aether wipes his hand on the sheets and pulls Dew close.

They're both too exhausted to care about the mess, though that will not be the case when morning comes. Aether, ever the good mate, will clean him up almost sheepishly, though proud that Dew is his by scent and scar.

Shrimp and cheese tortellini...Not me practicing my meager cooking skills for when The Handmaid's Tale becames a reality. I'd rather be a Martha as I'm too old for babies.