#Dewdrop/Mountain

[palesweetsdeer]

maybe.... Mountain giving flowers to Dew or Dew giving him a plushie (prob a duckie)

(Dew chewing the flowers)

This is how their date nights usually go

[iamthecomet]

Idk what happened but I blacked out and wrote 1.5k words about Mountain fucking Dew's tits because I don't know, I needed to. So, uhhh, I hope you like it!?!?

“I wanna fuck ‘em,” Mountain voice is a mumble, shy almost. Dew notices the way the flush drags over his cheeks, down his neck, disappearing beneath his shirt. Too many clothes. Mountain is wearing too many clothes. And Dew, pinned to the bed by the way Mountain straddles his hips, can’t do shit about it.

Mountain flicks at one of Dew’s nipple rings. Dew waits, muscles tensing as Mountain gets a little braver and takes the ring between two calloused fingers and tugs. Dew’s breath hitches, an undignified noise bubbles up in his throat, escapes through his teeth.

“They’re too small,” Dew says, a whisper as Mountain tugs again and the sensation steals the breath from his lungs. “Fuck. Careful. Sensitive.”

“I know.” Mountains eyes are still glued to Dew’s chest his tits—or lack thereof. Dew can practically see his mouth watering about it. “Been thinking about it...what they’d look like with my dick between them. Can’t get it out of my head—”

“Aeon been fucking with you again?” Dew tries at a spike of levity and succeeds in getting Mountain to actually look at him—but it doesn’t help. Mountain looks wrecked already.

“No.” Mountain doesn’t step into the joke, doesn’t even entertain it. His gaze, hungry and desperate, fixes Dew to the bed more firmly than even his weight can. Dew reaches up, puts both of his hands on Mountain’s thighs. He squeezes. Drags his thumbs up and down, feeling rough denim beneath his thumbs.

“Just,” Mountain continues, “can’t stop thinking about it. I know they’re too small. I don’t care. Let me.”

Dew tilts his head, continues the rhythmic stroke of his thumbs along the inner seam of Mountain’s jeans. He’s proud of himself for keeping his eyes on Mountain’s face and not letting them drop down to his zipper. It takes an incredible amount of focus not to. So much that when Mountain twists Dew’s nipple ring again it comes out of nowhere, a shock to Dew’s spine that has him arching off the bed,  unprepared for the sharp bite of pleasure pain. Mountain doesn’t let up—not right away and Dew hands suspended in the purgatory of that feeling until he deigns to let him go.  

“Please?” Mountain asks, and Dew can’t think. Especially not when Mountain twists a little harder and everything narrows down to just this one feeling. Dew nods, flexing his hips up to grind a little against Mountain’s ass. An illustration of just how fucked up he is too. So hard that there is nothing beyond this room. So hard he’ll do just about anything for one crumb of relief.

“Yeah, yeah ok, Mount. Whatever you want. Just—”

Mountain lets go and Dew sags back on the bed. Body tingling. Feeling little electric pulses all the way down in his fingers. He knows exactly what he’s getting himself into—isn’t sure he can take it. But he isn’t a coward, and he doesn’t back down, so if Mountain really wants to drag his cock over the bony plate of his sternum and fuck Dew’s tits—Dew is not going to deny him.

Mountain moves quickly after that, hands flying away from Dew’s chest to his belt. Dew reaches up to help and Mountain bats his hands away. Dew places them back down on Mountain’s thighs again, feeling the muscles shift as Mountain moves. He doesn’t get off of Dew. He just shifts forward, scooting up a few inches as he reaches into his pants and pulls himself out.

Dew finally allows himself to really look then. To watch the way Mountain fists a hand around himself and tugs. The way he circles the head—squeezing just enough to make himself hiss.

A bead of precum pearls at the tip and Mountain leans, bending so he can rub it across the nipple he was just abusing.

Mountain’s eyes flick between Dew’s face and his non-existent tits.

“Push them together for me, firefly.”  

Dew does, as best he can, despite there being next to nothing extra there. He is all bones and skin, but he tries anyway. Tucking his arms in, hunching his shoulders. Watching the flesh bunch and push toward center—still nowhere close to touching, but Mountain groans all the same. The hand on his cock speeding up.

“You like them?”

Mountain nods. “Pretty.”

Dew wants to chide him, remind him that there’s nothing there but it’s the look on Mountain’s face that stops him—again. He’s so into it, and therefore, Dew is too. Pulling his hands up to cup the sides of his little tits to try to push them even closer together.

Mountain scoots up, lays the head of his dick at the base of Dew’s sternum. Then, he hunches over. Spit drools from his mouth onto the tip of his cock—onto Dew’s overheated skin. Mountain smears it around with his cock. Slicking up the gap between Dew’s pecs. He slides forward, aided by his own spit and groans. The tip of his cock bumps Dew in the chin. On the next pass, it meets Dew’s tongue and Mountain swears, head tipping back, just for a second, as his cock ruts along the knobby plane of Dew’s chest.

“Fuck.” He sounds so reverent. Dew’s cock kicks hard in his boxers at the sound. He flexes them up—finds nothing to grind against but it doesn’t stop that involuntary twitch.

Mountain’s head come back to center—tips down. Watching his cock move through the spit, and the narrow—bony—channel of Dew’s chest. Watches how the head of his cock meets Dew’s lips and Dew opens for it, laps at it, sucks the head in just a little before Mountain pulls back for another thrust.

Mountain knocks Dew’s hands way, fitting one hand on each of Dew’s nipple rings, he pulls them both toward center.

Dew keens. Head rocketing back, body arching as Mountain holds his tits together just like that and his thrusts start to speed up.

“Is it good?” Mountain asks, and Dew thinks he’s going insane. Isn’t that what he’s supposed to be asking? He nods. Drowning in the sharp, overwhelming, bite of this pain—the way it fizzles into pleasure at the base of his spine. His hips hump up, to nothing, hopelessly grinding against air.

It’s so slick sounding. Between Mountain’s spit and the pre-cum drooling from his cock Dew’s chest is glistening with it. Each one of Mountain’s thrusts sounding sloppier than the last.

“Your mouth, Dew, please.”

And how is Dew supposed to say no? How is he supposed to do anything except get his shit together and tip his head down, opening his lips for Mountain to fit the head of his cock into at the end of each rough thrust.

“Will you cum on them?” Dew asks, voice pitching up. Mountain pulls on the rings a little tighter, draws those little tits just that much closer together and Dew swears he sees god.

Mountain nods hard, thrusts already faltering, rhythm shuddering. “Soon.”

“Yeah? You going to paint them?”

“Uh-huh.;”

“Get them all sloppy���fuck—make a mess.”

“I’ll clean it up after too,” Mountain promises, and Dew’s stomach turns over, swooping hard enough to make him groan. “Suck you off too, if you want.”

“Yeah—shit—do it—c’mon—cum all over my tits.”

Mountain growls. He lets go of one of Dew’s nipple rings as he finishes one last thrust. Dew watches his fist fly over his cock. Mountain’s back arches, his head drops back, neck glistening with sweat, pulse racing through the veins there. Dew can’t look away when he cums, still twisting one nipple ring in his fingers even as he shoots all over Dew’s chest.

There’s a moment of quiet. Mountain’s fingers loosen. Dew sags back into the bed and Mountain does too—just a little—as he gets his breathing under control. His hands rest at Dew’s waist, fingers tapping little rhythms on Dew’s ribs—a song—probably. Dew tries to guess which one but finds his brain empty of everything except need.

It’s Dew’s hips, still grinding toward nothing, that bring Mountain back to him. His eyes refocus, searching Dew’s face.  Then he shifts back, sliding down Dew’s body until settles over Dew’s hips, giving him something to grind against again. Dew moans with it, the sudden delicious relief. Not nearly enough but better than nothing.

Mountain bends, green eyes locked on Dew’s as his tongue darts out and he chases a rivulet of cum with it, gathering it on his tongue.

“Mount—”

“Told you I’d clean you up then suck you off. Be patient.”

Dew stares at him, watches him lap up his own cum, tongue swirling around Dew’s nipples, clever teeth tugging on the rings just to hear the noises Dew makes when he does. Dew wasn’t going to rush him—doesn’t want to. He’d watch this forever if Mountain would let him. He hopes Mountain takes his time.

He hopes it takes all night.

[forlorn-crows]

𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒚 𝑫𝒂𝒚 30: 𝑩𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔

Pairing(s): Dewdrop/Mountain, Aether/Dewdrop

Rating: Mature

Words: 3,184

guess i'm only doing one day of mushy may this year, oops. happy birthday @coffeeghoulie, here's dew making a special gift for the big guy <3 also thanks to @askingforthesun for helping advise on dew matters and constellation picks

Dew curses as the line he’s burning catches fire again. He stamps it out with his thumb and lets the hot wire clatter away from him on the workbench, uncaring if it lands on his notes and the scribbles of graphite start smoking too. 

“Having trouble?” Mountain emerges from the endless rows of seedling trays, wiping his hands on his apron. “Sounds like you’re about to burn my greenhouse down.”

Dew groans and puts his head in his hands. “‘M not,” he says defensively. 

Mountain comes up behind him and leans over his back, wrapping his arms around his middle and resting his chin on top of his head. He rocks them both side to side in an unconscious soothing motion.  “What’s wrong, fire lily? Hm?”

Dew sighs heavily. “Keep fuckin’ burning it,” he mumbles. 

Mountain hums. Gives him a kiss to the side of his face. “Take a break,” he suggests. “Frustration makes you run hotter.” 

“Yeah, I can see that.” Dew gestures to singed line.

Mountain just chuckles. “It’s only day one, droplet, don’t punish yourself too much. You need more wood?”

“Always need more wood,” Dew snorts, tipping his head back to stick his tongue out in Mountain’s face.

“Can give you that later, you imp,” he retorts, making a bite at Dew’s tongue. The fire ghoul pulls away with a trill. “Really, though, do you need more? I can cut you more, there’s still plenty on that log.”

Dew sighs and rests his chin on his hands when Mountain pulls away. Staring at the growing stack of mistakes and charred accidents. He wonders if he’s committed too hard to the idea of a homemade gift—especially one of a craft he’s never actually tried before. But he’s too set on it to turn back on it now.

“Whenever you have time, yeah,” the fire ghoul answers eventually. “I can still use some of these.”

“‘Course, darling,” Mountain says easily. There’s some rustling for a few moments, plastic trays being rearranged and soil bags being opened and shuffled around. Earth ghoul settling in to continue his earth ghoul things. It’s comforting, at least; familiar. Dew didn’t choose the greenhouse just for its proximity to his needed supplies, after all.

Dew grabs a different wood slice, switching it out with the one he just burned. This one just has lines and dots on it—a practice slab. But it probably couldn’t hurt to practice a little more. 

Before he can reach for the wire, though, another sound catches his attention. Underneath Mountain’s general clattering is the sound of a small, soft body squeezing through the broken glass panes in the corner of the greenhouse. It’s immediately followed by a soft mrrp and the almost imperceptible padding of tiny pawed feet across the dirt. Dew turns his head to see Juniper making her way over to Mountain, curious.

She gives a meow, and Mountain turns to look at her from where his hands are buried in a bag of soil. “Hello, sweetheart,” he lilts, Dew’s favorite kind of smile spreading across his face. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

The little cat meows at him again, butting her head up against his shins. Even from where Dew sits, he can hear her purring. 

“Oh, is that so?” Mountain responds like she’s actually said something, voice pitching up into animal-talk. He does his best to wipe off the dirt from his hands to give her a real pet, and she rewards by arching into his hand and trilling happily. “Yes, I know. Someone else would enjoy your company, too, I think.” 

Juniper’s tail flicks behind her, clearly content to stay by the earth ghoul and get pets from his big hands. He doesn’t blame her, though. Despite Dew’s efforts to woo the little creature, she’s never been very fond of him, for whatever reason. 

You’re too alike, Mountain once said. And oh, how he grumbled at that. See, that’s what I mean.

“Go on,” Mountain says to Juniper now, nudging her in Dew’s direction. She gives a disgruntled meow, but otherwise obliges. Her tiny feet—somehow pristine despite the fact she lives in a forest—take her over to the fire ghoul, albeit less enthusiastically than when she travelled to Mountain. Dew just laughs to himself, even though he’s secretly hopeful.

“Hi, Juni,” he says softly. He catches Mountain’s eye across the room and sees his eyes crinkling at the corners, fond. Dew rolls his own eyes and looks back at Juniper who leaps onto the workbench top and ambles over to him.

Mrrow. Juniper gets close enough to allow him to run his hand down her back and along her tail. She gives him exactly one headbutt against the chin before rubbing her side along his face and whipping him with her tail on her way to the other side of the table.

He sighs. “Thank you for gracing me with your presence, Juni,” Dew deadpans. He looks over his shoulder back at Mountain to find him snickering to himself. 

“Hey, that’s pretty good for the two of you,” Mountain comments. “Usually she gets as far away from you as possible.”

“Yeah, no need to remind me, dickhead,” Dew laughs. “But when the fuckin’ raccoon comes in, he’s all over me.”

“His name is Hank.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’d suggest you get back to wood burning if you don’t want to see him, then. Where Juniper goes, Hank is sure to follow.” Mountain smiles. 

Juniper plops herself down at the far end of the workbench, right in the middle of a bright sun patch. She’s almost blinding in the light with her white fur. She sprawls out languidly, squinting her eyes against the sun in satisfaction. A picture of paradise on a balmy fall afternoon.

“You know, Rain left a CD in here the other day. Could put that on for you, if you want.”

Dew smooths his hair back, retying it at the back of his neck. “It’s not the girly, pop music one, is it?”

Mountain laughs. “No, not that one. It’s, uhhh . . .” He makes his way over to the old stereo and picks up the cracked CD case sitting on top of it. He turns it around, reading the sharpie-d title on the front of the disc. “‘Midwest emo’.” Mountain scrunches up his face. “I’ll admit I have no idea what that means. But at least it’s not one of his ‘makeout’ playlists—never get anything done when he brings those,” he laughs, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck. 

“‘Course you don’t, lover boy,” Dew teases. “C’mon, put it on then.”

Mountain pops the disc in the stereo, and soon the greenhouse is full of a soft, yet grungy kind of sound. The earth ghoul just shrugs and lets it play, returning to his own tasks.

Dew sighs. Guess he should get back to it too. He picks up the wire where it clattered across the table and surveys the piece of wood. There’s just wonky lines, too-big dots, and scorch marks staring back at him. He sighs again—the theme of the day, apparently—adjusting the bent end of the wire to a more rounded point. Something thicker, easier to hide mistakes. He concentrates, channeling his inner heat into the metal until the point gets red hot; but, instead of touching it to the wood immediately, he waits until it dulls again so he has more control over how it burns. The resulting line is steady and even in color. 

Fuckin’ finally. Dew’s shoulders relax slightly, and he watches the thin line of resulting smoke rise up towards the ceiling. 

. . .

He’s not sure how long it actually takes him for him to be satisfied with his craft, but it takes many more hours spent in the greenhouse huddled over that workbench for Dew to finish Aether’s gift. Many hours fighting the biting chill of the inevitable autumn. Many hours avoiding more burns, whether on him or the wood. Many moments in those hours where crafting was abandoned for one too many steamy makeout sessions on the daybed in the back corner of the greenhouse (not that Mountain was complaining; he can multitask).

Many hours, admittedly, were essentially spent staring at the final slab of wood, afraid to do anything permanent for fear of never getting it right. But he did finish eventually, sealing off his hard work with a simple clear coat and a little For Aether⛧ dedication on the back. Mountain suggests a ribbon as the wrapping, helping Dew twist and tie the black satin fabric into something pretty. 

“You’ve done a very nice job,” Mountain compliments. “I think he’ll love it a lot, darling.”

Dew sighs. “I hope so. There was no backup plan.”

Mountain pulls him close and cups the side of his face with his hands, leaning in close. “The backup plan is you put on sexy lingerie and do that thing you know he likes with his balls,” he stage-whispers before giving him a peck on the lips.

Dew snorts against Mountain’s mouth. “Riiight,” he laughs. “Dick him down so he forgets about my fuckin’ corny gift.”

“Aether is all about corny, I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about. Truly.”

Dew’s really counting on that to be true. 

He’s lying next to Aether now, having woken up at the first peek of a sunrise, already anxious to give him his gift. He looks at the steady rise and fall of Aether’s chest, heart thrumming unnecessarily loud in his own. To Dew’s credit, he does try to lie back down and rest. Tries to stop worrying so much. But he can’t seem to fully settle, so he watches and waits for his mate to stir. 

It’s only a bit longer until the sun streams in bright enough to wake him. Aether blinks awake and stretches out long with a sleepy groan.

The quint ghoul turns towards Dew, smiling when he finds him awake, too. “Mornin’, dewbug,” he says, voice thick with sleep. Aether reaches for him, pulling Dew close to his body and snuffling into his hair. “To what do I owe the pleasure of my mate being awake this early?”

The fire ghoul grumbles. “Was waiting for you to wake up, birthday boy.”

Aether trills and places a kiss to his forehead. “Oooh, got some birthday surprise lined up or somethin’?” 

“Maybe.”

Aether hums thoughtfully, studying Dew’s face. Waiting for some kind of hint to show in his expression. Then he pokes around Dew’s body until he starts to giggle involuntarily, smiling wide when he swats at him.

“Stop,” Dew complains. “It’s not on my fuckin’ body, you dumbass.” 

Aether holds his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright.” He props himself up on an elbow and waggles an eyebrow. “Do I get any hints?”

Dew narrows his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Why d’you wanna know so bad?”

“‘Cause, baby,” he lilts, reaching out to cup the side of Dew’s face, thumb rubbing over his cheek. “Y’always give the best gifts.”

“ . . . I do?”

Aether grins and leans in for a quick kiss. “Of course you do. I haven’t disliked one yet, Dewdrop,” he says softly.

“Okay.” Dew can’t help but smile back, stealing a lingering kiss before he can pull away. “I have it here, actually,” he whispers against Aether’s lips. “You want it right now?”

Aether chuckles. “Better get it before I make you the present,” he hums, rubbing their noses against each other. “‘Cause spending all day in this bed with you is sounding reaaalll good right now, baby.” 

“Somebody woke up hungry,” Dew teases. “‘Kay lemme go. And close your eyes.”

Aether shuffles back, sitting up against the headboard. He squeezes his eyes shut and holds his hands out, palms up. Cheesing big, all fang. “Closed. Ready to receive present.”

Dew just rolls his eyes to himself as he reaches underneath his side of the bed where he’d stashed the plaque the night before. He slides it out and blows off a rogue dust ball before turning to face Aether, who, of course, is posed and ready. Dew takes a deep, quiet breath. Looks down at the slab of wood in his hands, all wrapped up in its shiny black bow. 

You always give the best gifts.

The fire ghoul thumbs over the raw edge of the slab and takes a private moment to let Aether’s honest praise sink in. A small smile creeps up on his face, and he sets the gift into Aether’s waiting hands.

“Okay, open ‘em.”

Aether cracks open one eye, squinting fake-conspiratorially at Dew before opening both fully and looking down at his present. Dew watches his face go from mischievous, to surprise, to awe in the span of about three total seconds. 

“Dew . . . did you make this?”

“Yeah,” the fire ghoul shrugs. He watches Aether slowly undo the bow, heart starting to beat heavier in his chest again. He chews the inside of his cheek to distract himself from it. “I thought it might be cliche, you know—quintessence ghouls and stars . . . but you like constellations and all that, so . . .”

Aether lets the ribbon slide from the piece, running his fingers over the dots and lines. “It’s so precise,” he says quietly. “You really made this for me?”

“Yeah. I mean, says so on the back,” he tries to joke, but Dew doesn’t really know what else to say. He picks at the pills on the blanket now bunched up around his legs. “You, uh. You probably already recognize it, but. It’s Ophiuchus, the guy with the snake? I mean, I guess his name is Asclepius. I know that it isn’t your favorite constellation, but. When I was looking through that book you showed me, with all of the constellations and their pictures and the myths that go with them . . . I guess this one stood out to me because, well, you’re a healer too, working with your magic and medicine and all of that. And it’s your birthday, so I thought it could be, like, a symbol for you, something you can look at and . . . I dunno, think of me and—”

“Dew,” Aether interrupts. “Look at me.”

Dew tips his head up to find the quint ghoul looking at him all watery-eyed. Aether’s lip quivers as he smiles, and something deep within Dew’s ribs aches.

“I love this so much,” Aether emphasizes. He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. “And I love that it’s a piece of you and a piece of me together.”

“Well,” Dew starts, scooting closer to Aether, “Mount cut all the wood for me, so.” He runs a thin finger along one of the visible tree rings. “I guess he’s in there, too,” he laughs lightly.

“Thank you,” Aether says, leaning in to wrap him in a crushing hug.

“Y’re welcome,” Dew says quietly. He smiles a little against Aether’s shoulder, squeezing him back. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do,” Aether assures. He gives him a kiss to the cheek before pulling away. “I’ll have to put it somewhere special.” 

He admires it for a moment more, tracing along the shape of the constellation with his fingers, feeling along the indents. Star to star until he’s mapped out the entire constellation. He smiles to himself and sets it and the ribbon aside to decide later.

Dew chews on his cheek again, avoiding the quint ghoul’s eyes. “‘M always scared to give you stuff,” he admits after some silence, laughing a little. Surprised at himself for saying so. “Don’t know why I think you’ll, like, toss it out the window or something. I know you won’t, but—”

Aether cuts him off by pulling him into his lap and pressing their faces together, nose to nose. Staring at Dew even in their close proximity so that the fire ghoul can’t help but laugh when his wide eyes morph into one with the extremely short perspective. 

“Stop that,” Aether says sternly, over-exaggerating his pout and gripping Dew by the shoulders. 

“Okay, cyclops,” Dew snorts.

“Do I have to illustrate how much I love it?” Aether mock-threatens as he pulls away and holds Dew’s torso at a ridiculous arms-length away from himself. 

Dew’s face scrunches up in amusement. “What, you gonna draw me a picture?”

Aether’s face falls comically flat. “No. I’ll show you, my silly idiot.”

Before Dew can protest being called a silly idiot, Aether’s pulling him back in and kissing him soft and sweet. Hands grazing up from his shoulders to cradle the back of his head. A quiet noise escapes Dew’s throat, all too quickly melting into his lap.

Aether rumbles happily, lips parting to deepen the kiss. “There’s my baby boy,” he sighs. His hands slide into Dew’s hair as easy as breathing, wringing a full groan from the fire ghoul when he tangles the strands between his fingers. Touching with extra reverence, just because he can. 

Dew licks into his mouth, heedless of the taste of sleep on their tongues. “”M still not—mmpf—not sure I’m convinced,” he mutters, already grabbing at the front of Aether’s shirt. Balling up the fabric with insistent fingers. He wants, oh he wants. But he wants Aether to be the one to persuade—to stoke that hunger in his belly that has nothing to do with an empty morning stomach. To pull him into that growing bubble of gratitude and love and desire. 

“Doesn’t matter how long it takes,” Aether purrs, rubbing their noses together as he did before. “I’ll spend all of my morning in this bed. With you.” The quintessence ghoul grabs him by the hips suddenly, hauling him even further into his lap until their chests are flush to one another. Aether wraps his arms around him, and all Dew can feel is his warmth. “All day, if I have to,” he continues to tease, pressing his lips to that spot underneath Dew’s ear that makes him tingle all over. 

He whines, kneading at the bigger ghoul’s chest now. Eyes slipping shut when Aether’s breath ghosts hot and wet over his neck. “Aether,” he groans. 

“Make you feel it. I’ll love on you until even your insides know how fucking wonderful you are,” Aether play-growls, nipping at Dew’s skin.

He whines louder still. “Fuuu-cking hells, why’s that hot?” he half laughs, half groans, hips twitching forward as the ache between his legs swells. 

“Yeah? Me bein’ as sweet as you make you feel good?” Aether, of course, already knows the answer to that as he slips a hand down to Dew’s boxers and feels him up through the fabric, finding him already stiff and sensitive.

“Oh shit—”

“Fuck, baby boy, you make me feel so good,” he groans, giving in to it. Mouth dragging along the length of Dew’s neck. “So good. So loved.”

“Please,” Dew breathes, bucking into Aether’s hand. “H–hah–help me feel that.”

Aether hums. He cradles the back of Dew’s head as he leads him down onto his back, kissing his way back up to his mouth. “Wasn’ planning on doing anything else.”

[lilypadlys]

Mushy May 2025 Day Nineteen - Coffee

Ship: Dewdrop/Mountain

Word Count: 383

Read on AO3 or below the cut

----------

Fire ghouls and earth ghouls are usually the earliest risers. It’s a close thing whether Dew or Mountain makes it to the kitchen first. Today Mountain’s the one to get the kettle warming up, Dew shuffling in shortly after.

“Morning Droplet. Sleep well?”

“Mmm.”

“Still sleepy?”

“Yeah.” He yawns, putting his fangs on display. “Jus need coffee.”

“Here’s your mug.”

Dew gives Mountain a gentle headbutt in thanks. “Aeth is sleeping in, he had the night shift.”

“Give him some cuddles for me when he gets up. I’ve got a long day in the greenhouse.”

Dew retrieves the fresh ground coffee and sets up a pourover while Mountain fills his own mug with hot water and today’s tea leaves of choice. Soon the scent of coffee and earl grey waft through the kitchen. Both ghouls lean against the counter nursing their mugs.

“Whatcha working on today?”

“Hm lots of things. Got to transfer a few plants to bigger pots, get the last of the summer seed in the soil, water everything, fix that one fence that keeps blowing over. Just a lot of chores I guess. Nothing too crazy though. You?”

“Helping Bug with Lacryma and working on Umbra some more with Cirrus. Then Rainy wants to go down to the lake. Want me to bring you some lunch when we head down?”

“Only if you don’t mind.”

“You gotta eat Mount. Speaking of,” Dew looks around on the counter behind him before snagging an apple and tossing it to the earth ghoul. “Since you actually like eating breakfast.”

“Thanks.��� Between bites he says, “And what about you? Just black coffee?”

“You know I don’t like to eat first thing in the morning.” Dew sticks his tongue out at the thought. “I’ll just eat a big lunch. Oh yeah, want to watch that movie I was telling you about, tonight?”

“Sure. I should be done for the day by six or so. We can watch it in my room after dinner.”

“Okay.” Dew downs the rest of his coffee. “Gonna head to the practice rooms to warm up. Have a good day!”

“You too Droplet. See you tonight.”

As Dew puts his mug in the sink and heads out, Mountain watches the rising sun through the kitchen window as he finishes his tea.

[ashthewaterghoul]

Mushy May Day 17: Hugs, Mountain/Dewdrop (+ Aether-pillow)

Prompt list by @forlorn-crows can be found here All my Mushy May will be slightly shorter stories and can also be found on ao3 :) Words - 790

    Dew was always glued to Aether while on tour – even more than he usually was on any other day of the year – so all the sudden not having Aether certainly flipped the little Fire Ghoul’s world around. Dew was typically on the phone with his beloved Quint every chance they got and Dew had brought some of Aether’s clothes with him to sleep with for their scent. But, one remedy that often helped was finding the company of his remaining summoning-mate.

    Mountain and Dew’s relationship had been very understated over the years. They always knew they had each other, and Dew was forever indebted to Mountain for all he did while Dew recovered from his element transition, however they were far from the boldest couple in the pack.

    But one night on tour, Dew had a rather sad look in his eyes. Mountain knew that Dew was roomed alone that night and couldn’t call Aether as he was working overnight in the infirmary. So, as they were loading back onto the bus, Mountain went to Dew’s bunk and crouched next to it.

    “Waterlily? You okay?” He asked softly, brushing aside the long curtain of blond hair.

    “Miss him.” Dew said, his nose buried in the pillow that wore one of Aether’s tshirts.

    “I know you do, Sprite. You want company?”

    Dew nodded and shimmied back in the bunk until Mountain could fit in. The Earth Ghoul wrapped the smaller Ghoul up in his arms with the Aether-pillow-replacement between them.

    “Do you want to stay in my room tonight?” Mountain asked softly.

    Dew looked up at Mountain with big mismatched eyes. “But… What about Rain?”

    Mountain smiled at the concern, “The girls want to spend the night with him. I’d be very appreciative of the company.” He knew Dew was more likely to accept if it was phrased as helping Mountain more than helping himself.

    The Fire Ghoul swallowed and nodded, “Okay.”

    The drummer kissed the top of his head softly with a purr.

    They stayed liked that, crushed up in the bunk until the bus came to a stop and the driver announced they were at the hotel. One of the human roadies usually went to check everyone in before coming to the buses to allocate the keys and rooms. When Mountain was handed his key, he went to get the bags so Dew could focus on protecting Aether-pillow and keep smelling it.

    The two Ghouls let out simultaneous groans as they saw the bed fitted to human standards. Maybe one day they’d be able to come to a nest and fall straight into it, they all hoped. But alas, they would never likely get such a luxury. So instead, Mountain called the front desk to get a few extra pillows and blankets sent up and left Dew to arrange the nest while he went for a long shower to help get all the grime and sweat off that the arena showers didn’t quite clean.

    Dew was always picky about the nest and it kept his mind busy for a while other than wallowing after Aether. And by the time Mountain was done washing himself and his long hair, now tied back in a bun on the back of his head, there was a great nest ready, with Aether-pillow taking pride of placement in the centre.

    “Looks great, Droplet.” Mountain smiled and kissed Dew gently on the forehead.

    Dew smiled and fidgeted with the hem of Aether’s shirt – that was pretty much a dress on him – as he leaned into the kiss.

    “Shall we get cosy, order some food and see if Aether’s going on break soon so we can call him?”

    “Sounds good to me. Room service doesn’t look too bad here.” Dew said as he pointed at the menu on the bedside.

    Mountain laid down in the nest, and Dew followed, snuggling into his side and nuzzling his fur softly. They both settled on classic steaks with thick cut chips and peppercorn sauce, Dew getting a side of spicy chicken wings and Mountain a salad with some drinks too.

    They called Aether for ten minutes as they waited for the food to come and hung up as it arrived so the Quint back home wasn’t forced to look at food he couldn’t eat.

    After the plates were empty, they both settled into the nest for the night with Aether-pillow, saying soft praises for how they did at the Ritual, falling asleep with their foreheads against one another, smiles on their faces and their tails twined together.

    Their hearts matched the other’s beats just as their instruments did on stage, always finding such a unique and inexplicable comfort with each other that could never be compared to anything else.

[bonesy-doodles]

And the Ghouls are done! They are all soooo,,, twirls hair,,,, Tell me who's your favorite!!! And don't be afraid to ask for my ghouls head canons!!! I'd love to share <33333

[thenamelessfandom]

No I didn't overanalyze them, you did!!

Also their hats are smushed differently too but I was lazy to get those details so. Here's them ghoul's hat feathers!! - Finn

[ratinhatsstuff]

Oh, I just had a thought — it would be nice to draw ghouls, you know

They could totally replace light bulbs! :D

[nastylittleghouls]

Tourbus Tour

(They all have the same buses, so this is perfect for fanfic reference purposes js👀)

[bon-nobody]

Ghouls, ghouls, ghouls! (Impera)

[palesweetsdeer]

Mount dew...mount Dew...more mount Dew AAAAHH-

*EXPLODES*

I love them actually

[iamthecomet]

Kinktober - Day 19 - Hate Sex

1.4k of sort of angsty Born Under A Troubled Sign - style Mountain/Dew hate fucking. Including rough sex, improper prep, some angst, knotting, overstimulation. Could be read as dubious consent but everyone is fully aware and on board with what they're doing despite the pheromones and emotions at play.

No need to read Born Under a Troubled Sign to know what's happening. But if you haven't and you like angst you should check it out.

Dew thought this would never happen again. That Mountain would never look at him like this. That he’d never feel the calloused drag of Mountain’s hands over his ribs. That he would never feel small like this again. 

Mountain’s fingers dig in and Dew knows he should pull away. Mountain’s eyes are clouded. He’s not himself. Deep in his rut, mind fuzzy. Body driven by instinct rather than heart and Dew knows deep in his bones that if Mountain was thinking clearly he wouldn’t do this. 

And so, Dew should stop him. Should grab Mountain by the wrists before his hands slide any higher. Before rough thumbs pass over his nipples, hook into the rings there, pull until Dew gasps. 

Dew should stop him but he doesn’t. He’s hard. Mountain’s knee is pressed tight between his legs, and Dew’s rolling his hips up against Mountain’s thigh with very little thought. He hasn’t been pinned beneath this big body in months. Hasn’t smelled him like this, looked at him like this. And Dew doesn’t want to stop. 

Not when Mountain is gazing down at him with lust blown eyes. An expression Dew thought he lost to his own bad choices. His chest constricts, heart hurting in his chest, but he can’t stop. Won’t. He wants it, needs it. 

“Mount,” he whispers. Hoping that Mountain can break free of this spell himself. That Dew doesn’t have to be the one to stop it because he doesn’t trust himself. If he talks to Mountain enough. Reminds him who is pinned beneath him, maybe he’ll back off on his own. It’ll probably break Dew’s heart but that’s nothing new. 

“Mountain,” he tries again. Reaching up to cup Mountain’s face between his hands, to force the bigger ghoul to look at him–really look at him. Mountain snarls at him, teeth bared. He shakes out of Dew’s grip. 

And Dew feels the gravity of what is really happening set in. Mountain knows. Of course he does. Even fucked up on pheromones he can’t forget. He knows and he’s still thumbing over one of Dew’s nipples. Still pressing his thigh tight to Dew’s aching cock. 

Dew doesn’t know if the tightening in his chest is joy or dread. He presses a palm to the back of Mountain’s neck, holds on. Fingers stroking into the soft baby hairs there. Familiar. Like he’s finally come home. 

“It’s just this once,” Mountain grits out. Fumbling with his zipper. Reaching for Dew’s so he can pull them off of Dew’s skinny hips. It’s all moving so fast. Dew can’t quite catch up. Mind hazy from the scent of Mountain’s rut. From the way it feels to be under him again–he can’t hope to get himself on level ground. 

“Just let me,” Mountain continues. “Just once. I need it–I need–”

Dew nods. Hauling himself up to nose at Mountain’s neck. To fill himself on the scent of evergreen and juniper. He presses open mouthed kisses over Mountain’s skin, salty with sweat. 

“Just this once, Mount.” 

Dew wonders if Mountain knows it’s a lie. If they’re both just lying to themselves and each other about what this is going to do to them. It won’t make it better. He thinks they’ll probably do this again. Denial coursing through both of their bodies as they ruin each other. 

Mountain flips Dew over. Dew has no say in it. One moment he’s on his back and the next his face is in his own pillow. Mountain holds him down with a palm between his shoulderblades. He doesn’t have to. But Dew isn’t going to tell him that–he likes how it feels too much. To be held down. For Mountain to be a little rough with him, demanding. His stomach clenches, dick kicking between his legs, drooling precum onto the sheets. 

Mountain makes a gut punched sound as he spreads Dew open and finds him dripping with slick. Dew mirrors it when Mountain runs his finger through it. Smearing it over Dew’s already twitching hole. Pressing in with one finger just a little. Dew keens into the pillow. “Still so wet.” 

Dew doesn’t know how Mountain can talk like this. Fucked up as he is on his rut. Dew can’t form words. Not when Mountain is working him open. Pressing two fingers in to the third knuckle and scissoring them apart. 

“So warm,” Mountain says, reverence coloring his tone and Dew flushes, hiding his face in his pillow as he whimpers. He feels like he’s the one in heat. Rocking back against Mountain’s fingers, desperate for something else that sounds like a compliment. “Bet you’re still just as tight too.” 

Dew hiccups. Rolling his hips back as Mountain pets his fingers over Dew’s prostate. “Satanas, fuck Mountain just fuck me already. End this.” 

Before everything Mountain would have chided him for that. Even in a rut he always was level-headed enough to be gentle. But Dew doesn’t get that luxury this time. Mountain laughs at him, low and cruel and then his fingers are gone. Replaced by the blunt head of his cock. Pushing in. It’s a stretch, even with Dew’s copious slick. The burn isn’t unpleasant. It doesn’t hurt so much as it does overwhelm. Dew digs his teeth into his pillow. Ripping holes in the fabric. He’ll have to get a new one. He doesn’t care. 

Mountain’s fingers dig into his hips. He’ll have bruises. He’s glad for it. Knows he’ll replay this, dig his own fingers into those marks and cum about it later. Mountain doesn’t so much thrust as he does use Dew to fuck himself. Pushing and pulling the little ghoul. Dragging him up and down the bed as he pulls him onto his cock. Grunting and swearing as Dew bears down on him and wails each time Mountain bumps against his prostate. 

“Mount–touch me.” Dew’s lost to it, realizes it as the words tumble out of his mouth. He’s somewhere else–another time. Each rough thrust driving sense further and further away from him. 

“Touch yourself,” Mountain growls. Giving up on using Dew as a toy and snapping his hips forward. Driving Dew up the bed until his horns gouge into the headboard.

Dew hiccups on a sob and shoves his hand down between them. Getting a fist around his cock. Hot and twitching in his hand. Pre dribbling over his fingers. Each of Mountain’s thrusts fucks his dick into his own fist. He twists his hand up by the head the way Mountain always did for him. 

For a minute, Dew’s not sure he’ll cum at all, no matter how hard he is. Each of Mountain’s thrusts seeks to overwhelm, to claim. It’s too much. Dew can’t muddle through the sensations to find the right ones. But then his orgasm is roaring up on him. Unexpected. Dragging through his veins like electricity until he’s wailing with it. Shooting boiling hot over his own knuckles. Clenching down hard on Mountain, more slick drooling out of his hole as Mountain fucks him with abandon.  The edge of his knot bumping against Dew’s rim, pushing in a little further each time. Dew sags. Tears biting at the corner of his eyes. Body gone boneless as Mountain rails him. Cock twitching valiantly between his legs as Mountain abuses his prostate. It really is too much now, and Dew is about to say as much when Mountain shoves his knot in. Dew sobs with it–the sound drown out by Mountain’s growl as he cums. Holding Dew tight to him. Cock twitching and spitting deep inside of Dew’s body. 

Time suspends, stretches, as they both pant. Dew’s throat burns. Body sore and satisfied but mind racing. Fingers clenched tight in his sheets. Afraid to move, afraid to look at Mountain and see hatred on his face even after all of this. 

Mountain sits back on his haunches and pulls Dew with him. Almost sitting him on his lap except for how Dew stays hunched over. 

Mountain reaches down, he strokes some of Dew’s hair out of his face so he can see him. Tucking golden locks behind his ear with gentleness that makes Dew’s chest ache. 

“Sorry,” Mountain whispers. “I should have been–”

Dew shakes his head. “Don’t.”  Mountain goes quiet. He lets Dew slump back to the bed. He pets Dew’s spine with slow soothing strokes that make the burning in Dew’s throat worse. He’s exhausted, fucked out, hazy. He wants to reach up and pull Mountain down with him. Wants to spoon while they wait for Moutnain’s knot to go down. He doesn’t. That feels more intimate than this. It’s a thing for people who actually like each other.

Tears well in Dew’s eyes. He bites back a sob and promises himself he won’t cry until Mountain’s gone.

[forlorn-crows]

mountain sitting on dews face

what r ur thots 👁👁

oh i have thots 👀

how about a lil modified 69 with these silly horny guys?

Mountain’s balls draw up for about the third time since he sat his ass on Dew’s face. He can’t help it, though, not really. Not when that hot mouth suctions to his rim and his delightfully wet tongue delves unnaturally far inside. 

His dick twitches, sending another drop of precum onto Dew’s clavicle. “Shit, sometimes I think just your tongue could make me cum,” he groans. 

Dew pulls away and grips his asscheeks hard. “It has, big guy.” The smirk in his voice is obvious, even when Mountain’s facing away from him.

“Ugh, I meant right now, asshole.”

“I’m already in—”

Dew squeaks as Mountain grabs hold of his little dick and squeezes. It drools a fat glob of precum onto his knuckles, pearly and thick. He kicks his feet against the blankets with an undignified whine.

Mountain just sighs. Strokes his thumb through the mess he’s already made. “Fuck, why’re you so cute.”

“You are suffocating my di-i-ick fucking fucker—” he wheezes. That thumb presses further into his slit, pushing down the sensitive foreskin and rubbing over the width of the head. Mountain’s slow and antagonizing with it, doing it over and over until Dew groans bodily, right into his hole. 

“Oh, Belial, do that again,” he gasps, mercifully releasing his dick. 

“How ‘bout you ask me nicely.”

Mountain scoffs. “Pleeaase moan into my ass again?”

“Uh uh. Try again,” he teases, spitting straight up into his hole and rubbing over it with the pad of his finger. 

“F-fuck—” 

“Come on, Mount, why don’t you kiss it a little? Where’s that sweet-talk, hm?” Dew rolls his hips to bounce his cock in the earth ghoul’s face where he’s crumbled to his elbows. 

He can’t help the whimper that falls from his lips. “Please. Wanna feel it,” he starts, genuine this time and much more needy. 

“I’m listening.” Dew’s tone gets softer too. He swirls around his hole, watches it clench. 

Mountain’s gasp fans hot over the head of Dew’s cock. “Gonna make you feel good so you moan and groan right into me.” He noses down the wet length and presses a kiss to the base. “Kiss you all sloppy here,” he mumbles. 

“Shit, yeah?”

“Uh huh.” His lips wrap around the side of his shaft, as promised, tongue darting out to lick at the veins. Mixing saliva into the streaks of slick. 

“Hnf, like that.” He bucks into it, balls bumping into the side of Mountain’s chin. “Fuck, sit down.” Dew digs his claws into his boney hips and forces him back onto his face, squarely onto his waiting tongue. Burying his nose between his cheeks. 

Mountain whimpers. He grips the inside of Dew’s thighs and spreads them open. Migrating from the side of his cock to swallow the whole thing down in one go.

“Ffuuu,” Dew moans right where it counts. The earth ghoul can only respond with a dumb, gurgled sound. It’s a vicious echo chamber of cause and effect, each of their actions spurring on the other in a self-imploding horny cycle. It only takes a few more minutes of impassioned attention to Mountain’s hole to get him close again, balls drawing up and mouth dragging down Dew’s dick until he’s panting into his taint. Mushy-brained and fumbling for words.

“Gonna—D-Dew,” he struggles, thighs crushing into the smaller ghoul’s ribs. Dew presses that spot inside him again—with only his tongue, how is that only his tongue?—and Mountain wheezes. His cock bobs back and forth between his stomach and Dew’s chest, splattering them both with precum that just won’t stop. 

Something that sounds vaguely like uh huh come on vibrates through his core, and that vocalization is what sends him over the edge, shooting onto the fire ghoul’s chest with a surprised shout. 

“Sh-h-hit,” he hisses against Dew’s skin, nose pressing tight to his little balls until he whimpers too. Mountain twitches through shudder after shudder. He’s pretty sure he’s drooling on Dew, but his brain’s too empty to care. 

“That’s it,” the fire ghoul coos, regaining his composure (and the upper hand). He rubs Mountain’s backside as he slowly goes limp, the bigger ghoul groaning louder when his cock finally makes contact with his own mess and grants him one last jolt of pleasure. Dew presses a kiss to his hole, tutting when it clenches. “Such a sensitive guy, aren’t you?”

Mountain gurgles something unintelligible. 

“Yeah you are.” Sadist that he is, Dew slips his pinky into that puffy, spit-coated hole, prodding until he hits the spot. Wringing a breathy, feminine moan from Mountain that he’d surely be embarrassed about, if it weren’t for all of his self-consciousness shooting out of his dick along with his load. 

He tuts again. “Be a fuckin’ shame to waste this nice wet ass, wouldn’t it?”

Mountain chirps, a questioning noise that’s almost comical, like a single question mark popping up above  his head. 

Dew smacks his ass. “Shove up, big boy, it’s my dick’s turn to be inside that tight hole.”

[serpentine-illusion]

THEY WENT ON TOUR AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED FOR THE ENTIRE BAND?????? 🛌🛌🛌🛌

Do you want to hear about sleep headcanons??????? They’re under the cut 🤯

-Copia USED TO be a morning person, always on time, always put together

-now he usually gets mediocre sleep at best, always sandwiched between all the ghouls while theyre fighting about who gets to sleep next to him that night

-Aether and Cumulus are THE morning people of the group, always up by at least 6, getting tasks done and waking the others up usually

-Mountain and Swiss SNOOOOREEEEE

-Swiss constantly moves, kicks or readjust and still gets a perfect nights sleep, excited to get up but usually doesnt actually get up before 8

-plays video games or bothers someone else before actually getting up

-Cumulus needs to hold someone when shes asleep, Sodo and Copia are her favorite since their smaller/her height

-Sodo is usually way too hot and also is a super light sleeper, gets woken up by others moving, his own hair, his clothes, everything

-Sodo is evil in the morning and Lus and Aether usually let him sleep in

-Rain is a belly sleeper and DROOLS

-Rain usually sleeps without a shirt, his skin is damp so the texture of a damp cloth all night drives him insane

-Cirrus needs to be woken up at least 3 times, she just loves sleeping, sleeps through every alarm, cannot be trusted to get up on her own

-Mountain can sleep literally anywhere and usually hits the ‘dad that said he wasnt tired and then fell asleep in front of the tv’ pose

[ashthewaterghoul]

Can I have MtnDew yaps pls 🥺👉👈

Hmmmmm, I don’t really think about them a lot but I do love them as a pairing.

I think their dynamic is mostly platonic honestly. When Dew was Water, their elements called to each other but Mountain didn’t know why something just felt… off…

His soul was waiting for Rain but obviously didn’t know that yet.

They don’t often sleep together but when they do they make the MOST of it. Most of their sexual interactions end up being in group settings, especially threesomes where Aether is involved.

Then when it actually is just them two everyone hears it lol

Mountain was the one to carry Dew’s body out of the ritual room when he was taken and turned into fire. And Mountain was the one who held it together and stayed strong for everyone else.

Mountain also spent a lot of time guarding Dew’s body while he was in his coma.

When Aether collapsed from exhaustion, Mountain was the one to carry Aether back to his nest.

After Dew woke up and came home, Mountain became insanely protective of the little Ghoul.

He broke down months after Dew finally woke up, in Rain’s arms.

Their bond is a very special one. But it’s a complete anomaly among Ghouls. There’s no real way to explain it rather than that they’re each other’s rocks.

Dew helps ground Mountain when he dissociates and Mountain protects Dew and comforts him when Aethers not there.

[noahl-art]

Little shapes and silhouette experimentation with the era 4 guys ✨ Really happy how recognisable they ended up looking!! Will definitely try and do all the ghouls and ghoulettes at some point!