#swiss/dew

[divine-misfortune]

Dew never expects Swiss to be gentle with him, always takes him by surprise, always throws him off. Especially when it's so casual.

Swiss laces their fingers together one night when they're just sitting on the couch together. Dew stares at their hands for a while, how small he looks against Swiss always makes his stomach do something funny, but Swiss holds him carefully but tight enough he's always aware of the fact Swiss has him.

And Swiss shifts and lets his hand go, Dew tries not to look disappointed, but Swiss just pulls him into his side instead. If he weren't looking at the TV, he'd see Dew's eyes go all wide and his face start to go pink. Dew secretly loves how their bodies fit together, and how safe he feels tucked into him.

He'll never say any of that, of course. Swiss wouldn't let him live it down. But fuck if he doesn't get butterflies, get a bit giddy, when Swiss offers him that sort of affection. No motive. Just loving him for the sake of loving him.

[miasmaghoul]

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."

[st-danger]

Dew: paint me like one of your french girls (joke)

Swiss: okay (not joke)

Dew: embarrassed and flushed and hard as hell as he sits while Swiss draws him. Nothing more than an object to be captured on paper (he’s never been more turned on)

He's never hidden his pens and art books, but he's never advertised it either. It's just something Swiss does, the sketching. Scenes from the tour bus. Scenery. Sometimes nothing at all but shapes and squiggles filling an entire page just because he can.

To be the centre of his attention in general makes Dew preen. To be the sole focus like this is an overwhelming and decadent kind of thing, he thinks.

Inspected, observed. A vehicle for Swiss to use as a creative outlet.

"Legs spread," Swiss says, again. "Don't hide. Let me see it."

Dew leans back on the bed, locking his arms behind him, and parts his legs.

"Good. Hold that," Swiss murmurs, sounding almost distracted alongside the push and pull of the pencil. Long, loose lines Dew can't wait to see. Under the approval, Dew feels familiar heat low in his belly.

"Like the view?" he can't help but ask, tilting his head and gifting Swiss with a wry smile.

"It's nice," Swiss agrees and Dew rolls his eyes.

"It's more than nice," he corrects. He knows what he looks like; he doesn't feel it egotistical in the least to acknowledge that the form he wears Above Ground is an attractive one. Swiss allows a knowing smirk, a brief flash before his concentration is back, face carefully neutral once more.

"Stroke it for me," he says, like it's a normal request, casual. Dew draws a breath, pleased. His left hand moves from the bed and comes to rest on his chest. Slowly, slowly, Dew lets his fingers trail down his sternum, his belly. Showy and unnecessary, but Swiss is here to observe and enjoy; far be it from Dew to deny him. He sees the way Swiss's eyes follow the lines he draws, down further, brushing over a hint of hair below his navel, down to the patch of hair at the base of his cock. Finally, curling around his shaft, holding himself in a loose fist. It's teasing, his movements. Light. At odds with how heavy he's leaning back in his right hand to hold him up.

The pencil scratches against the paper and Dew plays with himself.

He feels less like he's under a spotlight in stage and more like he's under a microscope. The intensity with which Swiss is staring at him, at every turn of his wrist- he always gets flushed when aroused. Always. And it will spill down his neck, onto his chest as it always does. He wonders if Swiss will shade him darker there.

"You can go faster," Swiss says after a few minutes of Dew's lazy toying. He agrees, of course, but,

"Is that a suggestion or is that what the artist requires?" he drawls. Swiss looks up from the page with dark eyes.

"If you're gonna sit for this, I need full cooperation." Dew feels a frission of pleasure zing down his spine.

"Of course," he agrees, hand tightening, working himself faster, dick filling out quicker. "Wouldn't want to disrupt your...creative process."

"'Course not," Swiss replies. The sketchbook is held steady in his lap. "You're a good boy."

If Dew were to, say, let out a hint of a pained moan, Swiss doesn't acknowledge it.

He pulls at himself in even, measured pumps, fully hard in little time at all and chewing on his lip. Swiss avoids his eyes, looking only over his naked body or the paper in his lap. Not seeing him for him. He's an object to be appreciated, and Dewdrop so loves to be adored.

It's a thrill.

He knows under the sketchbook, Swiss is hard. He's thick and heavy in his pants, and he's adjusted his posture twice in the chair, subtly uncomfortable. Dew enjoys this particular brand of suffering for himself, and it's made all the sweeter for knowing he isnt the only one. He can't stop himself from pushing his hips into his fist.

"Stay still," Swiss chides.

He stops stroking, lets go, and his stiffy sways. Swiss raises a brow.

"It's hard," Dew shrugs. "You want me still-"

"Hold it."

Dew stares for a moment, and then wraps his fingers around the base, squeezing.

"Hold it still?"

Swiss does not respond, merely goes back to short strokes on the page and Dew waits for any further instruction. It doesn't come. A long, silent minute passes.

"Tip wet yet?" Swiss asks, not even looking up from the page. Dew swallows, mouth suddenly dry.

"Not yet," he says.

"Let me know when it is."

[iamthecomet]

Kinktober Day 17 - Nipple Play

Guys, it's just 900 (ish) words of Swiss playing with Dew's nipples and ruining his life. A little lactation kink thrown in because that's what happens when you leave me unsupervised.

“Bet you can cum like this.” 

Dew shakes his head. Vehement. Sweaty golden hair cascading into his face as he does.  He leans back, body arching head dipping away from Swiss even as Swiss holds him firmly on his lap with an arm around his waist. Fingers digging into his hip to keep Dew exactly where he wants them. 

It’s early morning. The sun just starting to peek over the horizon. Dew is undercaffinated and still sleep warm in Swiss’ arms. And that means that Dew is basically defenseless. Dew’s still shaking his head like he’s trying to chase the thought away entirely. 

“No.” 

Swiss doesn’t respond to that. Doesn need to. Instead, he seals his lips around one of Dew’s swollen nipples. He sucks hard, tugs on the ring through it with his teeth. Dew’s back arches deeper as he presses his body closer to the heat of Swiss’s mouth. 

He uses his fingers on the other one. Plucking, twisting. None too kind. But Dew loves it if the way his cock spits between their bellies is any way to judge. Swiss could help him out. Hitch Dew a little closer on his hips, rub their dicks together. Tips sticky and wet. Could have Dew cumming all over him in a matter of seconds like that. But this is better. The aborted little rolls of Dew’s hips. Stutterin when he realizes there is nothing to grind against. The broken noise he makes when Swiss really digs his teeth in. 

Swiss pulls back. A string of spit connecting his lips to Dew’s nipple as he tips his head up. Leans back against the mahogany headboard and looks at Dew. Really takes him in. Dew’s red down to his throat. His hair damp with sweat. Fingers clenching and releasing against Swiss’ back. Jaw slack, mouth glazed. 

“They always get so puffy for me,” Swiss muses, and Dew whimpers at the words. Swiss gives his nipple a cruel twist and Dew jolts. Somewhere between trying to pull away and push closer. Hips jerking forward. 

“Swiss–fuck–please.” 

“Please what? Firefly?” 

“Touch me.” 

“I am.” Swiss drives the point home with another sharp twist. The press of the flat of his tongue over the other sensitive bud. Dew growls. Frustrated, desperate, needy in a way he only gets when Swiss does this to him. Torture that Dew has learned to beg for. “How much longer until they let down, huh?” 

“Fuck–don’t say shit like that.” 

Swiss ignores him. “Get them all swollen, nice and full for me? Huh? You’d like it.” 

Dew shakes his head again, but Swiss can feel the way his cock kick between them. He hears the whine Dew tries to hide with clenched teeth. . “Bet it’s real sweet.” 

“Satanas, Swiss. What the fuck?” 

“You’d look so pretty like that too,” Swiss cups his hand around the non-existent swell of Dew’s pec. “Puffed up, aching. Cute little tits. Bet if I work at them enough it’ll happen. Does it hurt?” 

Dew nods without any hesitation. Blush deepening. Spreading down his chest now. . "Y-yeah, please. Come on. Just touch me already. Make me cum." 

"I'm trying." Swiss grazes his teeth over Dew's nipple and Dew thrashes. 

"Can't cum like this, Swiss. Can't. Fucking hells, need you to touch it. Need–" 

"No you don't," Swiss kisses him over his heart. Sweet. A bitter contrast to the tone of his voice. Dew is falling apart in his arms and Swiss is insane with it. Stomach clenching. Cock kicking. He'll bury himself in Dew's body soon. Fuck him until his eyes get misty. But first–

"You can do it, Dewy. For me. I know you can." 

Dew's near panic is so sweet. The way he whines. How he tries to scoot his hips closer so he can rut against Swiss' belly. Anything to make it happen, anything to please Swiss. To give him this. It’s an impossible task. But Swiss isn’t about to let up. Not until Dew’s nipples are red and raw. Not until he’s had his fill of sweat slicked skin. 

He rolls a nipple beneath his thumb and basks in the way it makes Dew gasp. Barely a touch. Swiss looks down and finds the tip of Dew’s dick flushed so dark it’s nearing purple. Sticking straight out from his body. Kicking wildly as Swiss toys with him. 

“Swiss–please,” Dew voice is a pathetic whine. Another few minutes and Swiss knows Dew will promise him anything for a chance to cum. 

“Not yet.” Swiss mumbles, sucking hard on the pebbled bud. Rock hard and swollen beneath his tongue. Dew bows in on himself. Hiccups on a moan. Body shuddering beautifully in Swiss’ grip. He wonders what they have to do today. Rehearsal probably. Mass later. He can’t wait to see Dew wince when his guitar strap shifts the wrong way. Can’t wait to scurry across the stage and touch him through his uniform. Drag his fingers over those bruised nipples while Dew fumbles through a solo. 

Maybe Dew will fuck him about it later. 

“Come on, Swiss.” Dew begs so beautifully. Swiss could listen to it forever. 

“Not until they let down. Not until you give me a taste.” Swiss’ mouth descends again, worrying abused flesh with his teeth. Dew sobs, Swiss has never heard a sweeter sound. 

[ghcstcd]

Commission on my patreon for Cirice Eden! Thank you so much for supporting me!

[dewdrops-whammy-bar]

Consider: Swissdew

[ghoul-slime]

Kinktober/Ghostober 2023 - Day 2 - Tail Play (Swiss/Dew)

Day 2: Tail Play (Swiss/Dew + cum eating, handjobs, rimming, begging)

Dew is lounging in bed, curled up in a comfy pair of pajama pants and watching some trashy 80s slasher movie on his phone when Swiss slams his bedroom door open.

Dew yelps, startled. “Jesus fuck, Swiss! What the hell?” 

Swiss doesn’t answer. Instead he saunters in, grinning down at Dew with a too-wide, toothy smile, and kicks the door closed behind him with another slam.

Dew frowns, unimpressed. His tail flicks in annoyance.

“Take your pants off.” Swiss nods his head at Dew, still balking at him from the bed.

“Uhh,” Dew answers dumbly. He wants to be angry, to put up a fight, but he can already feel his cock twitch, starting to fatten up, taking interest.

“Take your pants off,” Swiss repeats himself. He stalks up to the edge of the bed, holding Dew’s gaze. He’s still grinning, white fangs glinting in the low light of Dew’s bedroom. He reaches out to tug at the string of Dew’s sweatpants, untying the knot and letting the loose ends fall back against Dew’s bare belly.

“Take your pants off,” he repeats a third time.

“Alright, jeez,” Dew grumbles. “So bossy…” Dew lifts his hips to shimmy out of his sweatpants. His cock is fully hard by the time he sits back down on the bed naked, kicking his pants off the other side of the bed to the floor. He grumbles again, feigning irritation, but Dew has never had a bad time in bed with Swiss. Whatever Swiss has in store for him will undoubtedly be worth it.

“On your hands and knees.”  

Dew feels his face go hot as he turns to obey, arranging himself on his hands and knees on the blankets. As soon as his face is down he hears Swiss opening the drawer to his nightstand and rummaging around. Then the pop of a cap followed by the slick, wet sound of lube on skin.

Dew exhales a shaky breath, buries his face into the pillows, spreads his knees just a little wider. Arches his back, pretty and waiting and obedient. He expects to feel the blunt head of Swiss’ fat cock nudging at his hole. Maybe two of Swiss’ slick fingers slipping inside him to work him open. Dew’s cock twitches in anticipation.

Dew yelps when instead he feels a slick hand wrap around the base of his tail and tug, pulling him back before sliding wet and warm down the length of him from the base to the pointed spade at the tip.  

Dew feels Swiss’ lips find their way to the base of his spine, just at the top of the cleft of his ass. Kissing and licking, trailing little nips down to the base of his tail.

“Ohhhh,” Dew groans out when Swiss grips him again, squeezing with his fist, jacking his tail like it’s his dick. Sliding up and down the length of him with wet, filthy sounds. Dew’s cock spits out a dribble of pre in response.

His tail is sensitive, and the way Swiss is squeezing and tugging at him, pulling him off with a slick fist wrapped around him has him whimpering. He presses his face into the pillows, squirming and pleading for more.

Swiss answers by mouthing at the base of his tail, where it feels so good, almost ticklish. He feels the heat coil in his gut as Swiss licks and sucks at him wet and messy. He laves his tongue across the base where tail becomes spine, biting and kissing as his hand continues to stroke up and down the long, spindly length.

When Swiss pulls his mouth away, Dew whines at the loss. He feels the bed dip as Swiss rearranges himself, grips his tail with two hands and continues to stroke him, hands slicking their way down his tail to the tip, where Dew feels him guide the spade into the wet heat of his open mouth.

Swiss licks at him, trails his tongue across the edge of the spade, laps at the flat of it, wraps his lips around the whole of it and sucks. 

“Swiss! Ohhhh, fuck,” Dew cries out, legs shaking and cock kicking, dribbling a wet patch of pre onto the bedsheets between his knees. Dew feels the slick build up between his cheeks, running down his thighs. His body is a quivering, sensitive mess, and Swiss hasn’t even touched his cock once.

Swiss deepthroats his tail, hollowing his cheeks and sucking, jacking Dew off with two hands as he works the tip of him with his mouth.

“Please! Please, Swiss, ohhhhhh” Dew cries out again, rolling his hips. Humping his straining cock pathetically into the air as Swiss works him. He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for, but Dew feels like he might be close to tears. It feels so good, and yet not nearly enough.

Swiss pulls off with a pop, gives one quick nip to the tip of the spade with a sharp fang, pulling a high-pitched yelp from Dew’s lips before he’s kissing and licking a wet trail back up the length of Dew’s tail. He licks and sucks, spit dripping, mixing in with the slick of the lube as he mouths his way back up towards the base of Dew’s spine.

When he gets there, he grips the base in a firm fist and lifts, exposing Dew’s pink little hole. Wet and waiting. Swiss dives in, licking across the twitching, fluttering ring of muscle. He drags his tongue through the slick, mouths back up and across it to lick and suck at the base of Dew’s tail.

It’s all too much, Dew cries out pathetically, clawing at the sheets and drooling into the pillows as Swiss eats him out, sucks at the sensitive skin between his hole and his tail. Tongue running across every inch of him. Down his balls, up to his hole, and back to the base of his tail. He tugs at him as he jacks it off, just on the right side of too rough, pushing and pulling Dew’s shaking body as he works him over. Dew’s cock kicks out another spurt of pre, the tip angry red and the length of him straining.

Swiss takes one hand off of him and Dew can hear fabric rustling as Swiss pulls his cock out, slicking it up with the spit and lube still coating his hand. Swiss jacks himself off as he eats Dew out, squeezes the base of his tail, pulling it up and open, exposing him for his tongue and mouth.

Swiss bites down into the meat of Dew’s ass cheek when he cums. He crowds in, paints ropes of cum across Dew’s lower back, across his twitching hole, shoots across his tail.

Dew whines, arches his back, begging for Swiss to finish him off as he feels Swiss’ warm cum dribble down his skin, mixing in with the wet of the lube and spit already covering his sensitive body.

Swiss is back on him in an instant, curling around to grip Dew’s neglected cock with a wet hand, jerking him off in rapid, rough little strokes. Dew comes with a shout when Swiss dips down, wraps his lips around the base of his tail, lapping up lube and sweat and his own cum. Swiss works him through his orgasm, milking him for every drop as he shudders and hiccups and sobs through it, pressing his face into the tear-stained and drool-soaked fabric of his pillows.

Swiss pulls back with a little kiss to the bruised bite mark he left on Dew’s asscheek and helps to flip him over. Lays Dew down gently into the wet mess of his bed before diving in to kiss him deep, licking into his mouth. Letting Dew taste a mix of himself and Swiss. Dew hums into the kiss, satisfied.

When Dew opens his eyes, Swiss is grinning down at him again. Toothy and smug and looking fucking proud of himself.

Dew pouts up at him, doing his best to try and look grumpy despite the fucked out look on his face. His messy hair and blushing cheeks. 

Swiss kisses him again, nips at his neck, nuzzles into him until Dew is making satisfied little chirps and hums.

“C’mon, Spitfire, stop pouting,” Swiss offers, scooping the little ghoul up in his arms. “Let’s get cleaned up and then you can finish watching your movie in my bed.”

[coffeeghoulie]

you know that it takes two

or a swissdew fic I wrote after haphazardly tailoring some ghost pants bc I am incredibly short and I ate shit when I tried them on.

Contains some light feminization and a semi-public handjob. This got a lot dirtier than I intended lol

The rising sun filters in past the blinds, casting long shadows and catching the dust motes in the air. The tv in the common room is on, playing some baking show Swiss isn't quite awake enough to process, volume too low for him to really make out without subtitles. He's sprawled on his back on the couch, one foot hooked over the back, eyes half open.

He's awake earlier than normal and he's not sure why. Not that it matters. His body must've just decided it was time to be awake, so he had made his way out here, waiting for any of his packmates to wake up and join him.

Swiss lays there for a long moment before the sound of padding feet makes his gaze snap to the doorway. Dew steps into the common room, stretching with an audible crack that makes Swiss groan in sympathy.

He's a vision, even bedraggled, and Swiss offers him a lazy smile and waves the hand that had been idly scratching at his stomach. Dew hums in acknowledgment, quietly making his way over to the couch.

As he gets closer, Swiss gets a better view of what the fire ghoul's wearing: a shirt that's obviously Aether's by the way it comes down to mid thigh, sliding off his shoulder and exposing a sharp collar bone. More interesting are the lounge pants, cuffs rolled up three times, and Swiss could bet that the drawstrings are triple knotted so they don't slip down Dew's narrow hips. There's a pattern, and Swiss cocks his head as he takes in the Cardinal's face, the ghoul masks, the band's logo and Grucifixes.

"Didn't think you were a merch of your own band kind of guy, spitfire" he chuckles, stretching and baring his fangs as he yawns.

"Fine, I stole them a few weeks back, need to hem them. Might talk Rain into doing it," Dew says, hissing as his foot catches on one of the pant legs and he stumbles. Swiss reaches out on impulse, but the fire ghoul rights himself with a grumble. "Shut up, 'm fine. they're comfortable."

"You do look comfortable," Swiss concedes. “C'mere,” he says, patting his chest in invitation. Dew accepts almost eagerly, laying down in the vee of Swiss's legs.

Dew rests the back of his head on Swiss's chest, and Swiss sputters teasingly as he overemphasizes spitting out Dew's hair, falling out of its bun.

"Knock it off," Dew slurs as he gets comfortable, a rusty purr rattling his slight frame. If he's unusually snuggly, neither of them mention it.

Swiss noses at Dew's hair, wrapping an arm around his waist, getting a good feel of the pants, the sharp hipbones underneath. "I get it," he whispers, half paying attention to the tv. "Those feel soft. Think they might fit me?"

He doesn't need to see Dew's face to know he's rolling his eyes. "Mine," he says in lieu of an answer. “You can get your own.”

He hums, idly playing with the waistband, the drawstrings (he was right, they are triple knotted). He means nothing of it, content with a lapful of fire ghoul, but then his hand trails just a little bit lower and he finds it.

A small, plastic button right over the front of the pants, where the fly in a pair of boxers would be. Swiss's fingers fiddle with the button, and the next thing he knows, there's claws pressing at the back of his hand. Not piercing skin yet, just warning.

"Swiss, what're-" Dew stammers, stiff as a board as he turns to look up at him.

He blinks, glancing down at the smaller ghoul as he realizes what he's doing. "Shit, Dew-" he goes to apologize, but there's an undeniable throb underneath his knuckles, a damp spot growing in the soft fabric of his pants. A shit eating grin splits his face and he noses again at Dew's hair. It smells of Mountain's shampoo, bergamot and tea tree. It suits him. "Say the word and I'll stop. Promise."

They lay there frozen, eyes locked as the silence says more than either of them could. Dew lets go of his hand and Swiss smiles, kissing him.

Swiss plays with the button until it slips out of the buttonhole, and he slides his hand into the fly. They both groan at the touch of skin on skin, Dew having forgone underwear. He's so warm between his thighs, especially the line of his cock, already desperately hard and leaking.

He presses the heel of his hand against it and Dew jerks in his lap, cock blurting precum. He's seen Dew worked up enough times to know what it looks like, the tip ruddy and shiny, dripping into the coarse curls at the base.

“Easy, spitfire,” Swiss whispers in his ear, nipping gently at the point of it. Dew makes a hurt little noise, head tipping back against his chest. His own dick throbs, filling out and pressing against the small of Dew's back.

He doesn't wrap his fingers around Dew's cock, just gently pets up and down the shaft, slicking it with his own pre. Every so often he brushes a calloused fingertip down the seam of his balls and Dew hisses, turns his face to hide in Swiss's chest. Swiss can feel his pulse already, little cock throbbing in time against his palm. A wave of scent, woodsmoke and spice, hits him like a bus.

“So worked up, sweetheart, aren't you?” Swiss coos, his other hand coming up to grab at Dew's jaw. He tilts the fire ghoul's face up, makes him make eye contact. Dew's eyes, normally like shiny copper pennies, are engulfed by blown pupils.

“Swiss-” Dew chokes out, but then Swiss is kissing him, all filthy and far too hungry for this early in the morning. Dew's pliant, sleep still clinging to him, and he yields immediately, letting Swiss lick into his mouth like there's something sweet at his center. And there is, isn't there? Not awake enough to put up the front, stripped bare to the softest version of him?

Dew moans frantically into the kiss, and Swiss pulls back, golden gaze hardening, lips spit-slick. “Quiet, spitfire,” he whispers, squeezing his stiff little cock. “You don't want the rest of the pack finding you like this, do you? So damn easy, with my hand in your pants?”

Dew groans, a little quieter. “Lucifer, fucking- Swiss,” he shudders in his lap as the multi-ghoul finally wraps his fingers around him properly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He coos, squeezing Dew's jaw a little, dimpling his cheeks as he fishes him out of the pants, not bothering with pushing them down, just pulling him through the fly. Just as he thought, the head is cherry red and shiny, the same color that his cheeks have turned, the blush spilling down past the collar of Aether's shirt.

“Fucking- shit- make me cum,” he sputters.

“Is that how we ask, pretty girl?” Swiss growls low in his throat, but he starts jerking him off anyways. The slick head of his dick peeks out from his fist, but it covers the rest of him.

Dew groans, hips bucking up into Swiss's fist, drooling precum over his knuckles. He fights against the hand on his jaw, trying to hide, but Swiss won't let him. He stills his hand, and Dew makes a noise like he's been punched in the gut.

”Ask nicely, sweetheart," he says, their foreheads pressed together, unable to look anywhere but at each other.

Dew's breathing is uneven, chest heaving. Except for his panting, there's silence for a long moment.

“Please make me cum, Swiss,” Dew almost whimpers.

Swiss grins, a blinding flash of fangs as he jerks Dew off. His grip tightens ever so slightly and the fire ghoul keens, tail wrapped tight around Swiss's thigh as he fights to lay still.

Every jerk of Dew's hips ruts him against Swiss's cock, painfully hard in his sweats, but he ignores it for the squirming mess in his lap. He rucks up Aether's shirt, exposing his nearly concave belly, his nipple rings glinting in the early sunlight. He was right. The blush goes down past his nipples, makes the silver jewelry really stand out.

“Such a good girl for me, Dewey,” Swiss says, punctuating it with a kiss to his cheek, oddly tender compared to the way he jerks him. “Lettin' me touch you like this out in the open, where anybody could see you this needy. They'd want you like this, spitfire, such a pretty little mess for me. You'd let them watch, wouldn't you?”

Dew's breath hitches, writhing in Swiss's lap as his free hand snakes up to play with the silver rings threaded through his nipples. His spindly fingers catch around Swiss's wrist, not trying to stop him, just desperate for something to hang on to. His other claws at the couch cushion, puncturing the fabric with his needle sharp claws.

“Will you say it for me, spitfire?” Swiss asks, speeding up the hand on Dew's cock.

Dew swallows hard, making aborted little thrusts up into Swiss's hand.

“Say what?” Dew asks through grit teeth, eyes half lidded as Swiss moves his hand down to roll his balls in his hand.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Swiss says, and Dew just barely bites back a cry as he squeezes ever so slightly. “You know what I want you to say. Say it and I promise I'll make you cum so hard, make you make a mess of yourself.”

Dew makes another hurt noise, mumbling something under his breath.

“Ah-ah, baby, I can't understand you, use your words,” Swiss says. He knows it's cruel, but Dew's dick jerks in his hand and he can't be damned to care. “What are you, spitfire?” he prompts, giving his dick a little squeeze in encouragement.

Dew cries out, too far gone to even try and muffle himself. “'M your girl, please just fucking make me cum, Swiss, please!”

His voice hitches deliciously, and Swiss smiles, unable to deny him anything.

“So good for me, sweetheart,” Swiss coos, starting to jerk him off, picking up the pace until Dew's writhing frantically in his lap again. “So fucking good, Dewdrop, such a good girl for me, that's it.”

He feels Dew's cock stiffen impossibly harder in his hand, feels his balls draw up against his knuckles. “C'mon, baby, cum for me, make a pretty mess for me.”

Dew wails, dick throbbing in time with his pulse as he spills, shooting over Swiss's knuckles as cum splatters across his belly, all the way up to his pierced nipples. Swiss doesn't ease up, cooing in his ear the entire time. “There it is, that's it, doing so good for me, spitfire, give it to me.”

He peppers little kisses over the side of Dew's face as the fire ghoul writhes, the stimulation pushing into too much. He doesn't try to stop it, lets Swiss keep jerking his spent little cock, fangs sinking deep into his lower lip.

His entire body goes slack when Swiss eventually lets him go. ”Fuck, Swiss,“ Dew laughs incredulously, narrow chest heaving as he comes down.

Swiss can't help but return his grin. ”Yeah? Good?“

Dew smacks him with no real heat. “No fucking shit, Swiss.”

Swiss kisses his temple, reaching around to wipe Dew's cum up with his fingers, sucking them into his mouth with an obscene groan. Dew's cock kicks weakly.

“You want me to-?”

“Nah, I think I'm good,” Swiss says, pulling his fingers out of his mouth with a wet pop. “More than satisfied with this, spitfire.”

Dew's blush hasn't receded yet, but he settles down against Swiss's chest, yanking his shirt down and getting comfortable again.

Swiss laughs, pressing one more kiss to Dew's temple. He reaches down, tenderly taking Dew's cock in hand, tucking it away. He grins as he does up the little button.

[forlorn-crows]

hi. dewswiss. hot summer day. popsicles. put dew in a situation.

- cuck mountain anon

i think swiss ended up in the situation more than dew oops

Dew's mouth is cherry red, slick with syrupy popsicle juice, and Swiss cannot stop staring. He's saying something, Swiss is sure, something about . . . pickups? Tuning? Some complaint about the way his guitar tech strung one of his guitars last time?

Swiss doesn't know. He's not listening. All he's focused on is the way Dew's little pink tongue darts out to catch a stray drip, how his lips suck around the length of the treat, teeth scraping on the way back up.

It’s some berry flavor—strawberry, raspberry. He won’t ask.

He’d rather taste.

Swiss watches a light pink drop trail from the corner of Dew’s mouth all the way down to the underside of his jaw. It threatens to drop, to splatter right on the fire ghoul’s bare chest. Swiss imagines it rolling down, catching on the jewelry running through his nipple. But it doesn’t, because he can’t help it; he reaches out and swipes it up with his thumb, gathering it on the pad and bringing it to his lips with a sly smile.

Dew just rolls his eyes. “You’re not listening,” he deadpans. He takes a deliberate, slow lick of the popsicle, watching Swiss’ eyes track his tongue gliding over the icy surface.

“Hm,” the multi ghoul hums distractedly. “Raspberry.”

“Uh huh,” Dew confirms, flicking his tongue off the melted tip.

Swiss scoffs. “Baby, you’re teasing.”

“I’m eating. You’re staring.” Dew sticks out his tongue at Swiss, showing off the stripe of artificial dye down the middle of his tongue.

Swiss fights the urge to groan when his cock kicks in his shorts. He doesn’t succeed, and a little rumble manages to rattle through his chest.

“Something wrong, baby?” Dew tilts his head, the pet name just as saccharine as the sugar across his tongue. Swiss groans for real then, reaching his hand out to circle Dew’s wrist completely, preventing him from going in for another suck. He leans in close, close enough to feel the huff of Dew’s amused snicker waft over his own mouth, fruity-scented.

“Let me taste you,” he says softly. “Come on, sweetheart—” Swiss noses at the smaller ghoul’s sharp cheekbone, trailing along until his lips kiss the shell of his ear. “—let me sink my teeth in a little.”

The popsicle melts a little more. A drop of it lands on Swiss’ forearm.

“Help me finish it then,” Dew says after a beat. So easily, so simply, as if telling the time. A shrug in the form of words.

Swiss pulls away and shoots him a confused look. Dew rolls his eyes, taking his turn to lean in close, inching the popsicle and his own mouth closer to the multi ghoul.

“I said,” his voice pitching lower into something more mischievous. “Help me—” He gets closer, dropping his gaze down to Swiss’ lips with a smirk. Grinning at the way his grip loosens to let Dew closer, how Swiss’ mouth parts a little the closer he gets.

“—finish it.” Dew seals his mouth around the bottom edge of the frozen treat, pushing the tip of it into Swiss’ lips.

Swiss makes the tiniest of noises before laving his tongue from bottom to top, groaning when he barely licks over Dew's lips in the process. He grips hard on the fire ghoul's wrist and bites around the bottom, trying to nip at him.

Dew pulls away. "You're gonna bite it off the stick, greedy. Stay at the top."

Swiss grumbles but acquiesces, licking sloppily back up the length of the treat. Dew rolls his eyes and sucks hard, siphoning the juice from the ice noisily.

Swiss can't help the noise he makes. He'd rather Dew be sucking on him. Hard and greedy and full of teeth.

He could just bite the rest of it off the stick in one go. He really could just . . .

"Ow, you fucker," Dew swears as Swiss' teeth scrape his top lip as he latches onto the stick and pulls the popsicle clean off in one motion. Two seconds later Swiss smiles wide, fangs glistening with a faint pinkish color. His tongue, too, when he sticks it out, tip of it inches from Dew's nose.

He's smug. Face stuck in that signature shit-eating grin he loves so much.

Dew stares at him, appalled, mouth agape. He glances down at the popsicle stick, now devoid of its treat, then back up at Swiss.

"Did you just swallow that whole?"

Dew doesn't get the answer to that question. But he finds he doesn't particularly need to know, not with the way Swiss pounces on him, clever tongue already licking at his mouth as he presses him down into the grass.

[ghoultrifle]

Packer Play

Inspired by these two posts:

@samaellevampire's post about swiss/dew packer play and

@belle--ofthebrawl's post about quintessence on straps

Swiss gets a packer, and Dew has a great time sitting on his lap (they fuck nasty about it)

This is incredibly self indulgent with a little bit of a rant about packer skin tones from your resident mixed race writer (i am not pale, olive, or black thank you very much!) and of course be careful if you’re going to bind during sex, let’s just pretend Swiss has sized up for this fic <3

cw: mentions of dysphoria, not feeling 'enough'

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Swiss stood there staring at the package left outside his door, Mr Swisstopher Ghoul, it read, one of the first parcels he’d received under his new name. He giggled as he brought it inside, knowing exactly the contents of the inconspicuous box. Tearing the brown tape with a fang, he ripped into the cardboard, unboxing the items he’d ordered the previous week.

Laid out on his bed were three items, a packer, a strap, and its harness. The packer was flame red, the website didn’t have any colours to match the multi ghoul’s rich skin tone so he went with the novelty option. He’d rather have a silly colour than one that felt off, like it wasn’t designed with people like him in mind. Swiss chose the mid-size packer, he knew Satan would have blessed him with a monster cock given the chance, but he didn’t want to look like he was permanently sporting a woody if he could help it.

The strap was much more well endowed, the multi ghoul needing not worry about showing off his size in the bedroom. Another novelty colour, green this time. He couldn’t wait to sink it into Mountain and watch it camouflage against his sage cheeks. The harness was a black pretty thing, trying it on he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get a little bit wet at the sight of the fabric digging into his hips. But that was for another time, the multi ghoul was just excited to have that casual bulge, to not feel exposed when he stretched his arms above his head, leaning back slightly. To not feel like people were searching for a sign that he wasn’t a man. And most of all he was excited for the grey sweatpants season they were currently in the midst of.

Dewdrop was the first to notice it. He’d waltzed into the common room as Mountain and Swiss were co-opping on Grand Theft Auto, trying to deliver drugs, or something. Dew couldn’t have cared less about the antics on the screen, his eye was immediately caught by the bulge sitting pretty in Swiss’ lap. That’s new, he thought, scheming. It was unmistakable, the thick fabric bunched up at the faint outline of the silicone, jutting out in his lap. It was just inviting Dew, taunting him to sit on it and wriggle to his heart’s content.

“Hey big boys, whatcha playing?” he asked, feigning interest in the game.

“Just helping deliver Mounty’s weed supply, droplet, you okay?” the multi ghoul replied.

Dew made a hrmph before responding, “Yeah just had a bad day, ‘s all.” His day had been fine but he knew Swiss would immediately invite him for cuddles if he said those words. The multi ghoul cared so deeply for his pack. It was easy to pin him down as ‘the horny one’ but it went so much deeper than that. His love language was acts of physical affection, he relished in helping his partners relax, and in showing them they’re worthy of love, and orgasms.

Swiss didn’t utter a word as he threw the controller on the arm of the chair before outstretching his arms for Dew to sit on his lap. He leaned back as he did so, straining the sweatpants over his cock, making Dew’s mouth water. The fire ghoul tried not to look too happy as he launched into Swiss’ lap, their chests touching as Dewdrop could feel the firm fabric of Swiss’ binder beneath his shirt. He threw his arms over Swiss’ shoulders, cradling his head in the multi ghoul’s neck, breathing in his scent. He could feel the packer poking him through their clothes, teasing his entrance. It was going to be different from his usual ploy of getting the ghouls hard beneath him, but it would be worth it to see the wet patch Swiss leaves behind when the multi ghoul finally gives in and drags him to the nearest bedroom.

“Mm thanks, Switchblade,” he chirped as he picked up the controller to hand it back to the multi ghoul. Dew was so slight that Swiss could easily continue playing even with the small ghoul koala-hugging him.

Swiss couldn’t easily continue playing, however, when Dew began to subtly grind his hips into him. It was barely perceptible at first, perhaps a comfort stim for the anxious ghoul atop his thighs. But he kept doing it, becoming more insistent with every movement, hips circling his oh- circling his packer. He was certain if he had any feeling in the silicone sitting flush against him, he’d feel Dewdrop dripping onto him.

“You alright, lovebug?” Swiss probed, delighted at the attention he was garnering from just being his true self.

“Mhm, just thought your lap looked inviting,” he muttered into Swiss’ neck, hips moving with reckless abandon as Mountain was engrossed in outrunning the looters stealing his drop. “Ah- fuck, you’re so big, baby,” he whined into the multi ghoul’s ear, “Can feel every inch of you. Bet you’re begging to get inside me, hmm?” he teased.

With that, Swiss dropped the controller on the floor, leaving Mountain to fend for himself. “Lucky for you, firefly, this isn’t the only package that arrived today,” Swiss grinned, placing a kiss between Dew’s horns, “Keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll quickly find out exactly how big I am,” he grunted.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time!” the fire ghoul chuckled, sure his cunt was soaking through his own sweatpants and onto Swiss’. He couldn’t wait to get up and see the dark patch he’d marked the multi ghoul with; once a water ghoul, always a water ghoul.

Swiss was wet too, the silicone pressing nicely against his tiny cock, but the party in his head was miles better than the one in his pants. The euphoria he felt at Dew grinding on him like he really had a dick, like he’d seen him do to the other ghouls, Aether, Mountain, Sunny. The euphoria of having something for Dew to grind against, a tangible object between his legs. Seeing Dew’s blissed out face as he began almost to hump against the packer, it set Swiss’ nerves alight, truly a feeling he’d treasure for eternity.

His gender breakthrough could wait, however, a certain fire ghoul was getting impatient. He stood with ease, large arms cradling Dewdrop as the small ghoul kept his hands wrapped around Swiss’ neck. As they walked down the corridor Dew made a point of bouncing into the squishy toy that was perfectly aligned with his dripping cunt, leaving Swiss groaning and stuttering in his steps.

“Hey, Switchblade, you ever thought about quintessencing that dick of yours? Might be fun,” Dew shrugged as Swiss unceremoniously threw him on the bed. Swiss whined at the idea, how didn’t he think of this before?

“Fuck, baby, I have now,” he growled. Swiss grabbed the green strap, sitting next to Dew as he closed his eyes and made contact with the toy. He could feel his quintessence resisting, maybe he should’ve taken more lessons with Aether.

It took a few minutes, Dewdrop sitting behind the multi ghoul, arms wrapped around for moral support, peppering his clothed back with kisses; quintessence came more easily when a ghoul was relaxed. The strap finally took hold of Swiss’ magick as it had the slightest purple tinge to it, a beautiful contrast to the sage.

“Umm, could you undress me, firefly, I can’t really let go of this now,” Swiss asked, gesturing at the glowing toy in his hand.

“Anything for you, my darling,” Dew replied, flushed a deep red, having already removed his shirt, fresh air hitting the crescent scars on his chest. He bunched Swiss’ white t-shirt up, manoeuvring it through one arm, before getting Swiss to change hands, and remove it fully.

 “On or off, honey?” Dewdrop asked, drawing hearts in the black binder now exposed, hugging Swiss’ chest, tight.

“On. Wanna fuck you like a real man,” Swiss replied.

Dew’s heart broke at the sentence, “Love, you know you’re already a real man, tits or not? It’s important to me that you know that.”

“Maybe you think I am, but I don’t feel like one,” Swiss cried, unsure where this was coming from. Perhaps it was because he felt truly safe with Dew, “I don’t have a dick, my tits could win a Miss Universe contest, my clit’s fucking tiny, I’m practically hairless like one of those ugly ass cats Phantom wants, and my voice is higher than Cirrus’, is it any surprise I still feel like a girl?”

“Oh baby, I get it. It’s so hard at the beginning but it will get better, I promise. Do you wanna talk about it or do you wanna fuck me silly? I’m fine either way, remember you don’t owe me anything, yeah?”

Swiss contemplated, before deciding he didn’t quintessence this damn dildo for nothing, “Wanna fuck you,” he whispered.

“What was that, my big boy?” Dew smirked, making a note to properly talk to the ghoul after the scene, he was clearly going through it.

The fire ghoul boxed Swiss against the head of the bed, thighs encasing those of the multi ghoul. “I said I’m gonna fuck you silly for grinding on me in the common room!” he growled, passion reignited.

“That’s more like it. Make me scream, Daddy.” Dewdrop said as he placed a hand over Swiss’ clothed dick, small fingers making the packer look even bigger. Swiss couldn’t help the whine that escaped his lips at the sight.

Slowly, Dew began to remove the sweatpants, revealing the bulge in all its glory encased in Swiss’ tight boxer briefs, fine details visible through the fabric; veins and ridges and bumps. The smaller ghoul mouthed at it, before licking a stripe from root to tip and fully undressing the other.

“Shit, Dewdrop you’re gonna make me come before I get inside you at this rate,” he exclaimed, stepping into the harness and affixing the strap, finally able to let go when it was settled in the o-ring.

Swiss gave himself an exploratory stroke, hand enclosing the shaft and moving cautiously to the head, “Oh- fuck- ah- holy Satan below” he exclaimed.

“Quintessence is working then! Just don’t blow your load too early,” Dew chuckled as he gracefully positioned himself on the bed, face down, ass up. The perfect position for Swiss’ first real fuck since coming out.

The multi ghoul squeezed a handful of lube from his bedside before slicking himself up. The stimulation was something else, how cis men did this was beyond him. He was wincing, hissing in arousal before he even got inside the fire ghoul. SIicked up, Swiss lined himself up with Dew’s now bare cunt, beautiful lips glazed with his arousal, inviting Swiss’ cock to make itself at home, to bury himself in it.

And he did, head teasing the entrance as Swiss’ hips stilled to ground himself, basking in the mind-blowing pleasure. He sank in with a moan, watching as Dew’s cunt stretched around his cock, as it weeped, begging for more. He kept going until the fire ghoul’s ass was flush with the harness, and he stopped.

“Fuck- firefly, ‘m not gon- ah gonna last long,” Swiss keened, panting as he tried desperately not to come, thinking of the time he walked in on Primo having a bath, anything to not spill inside the fire ghoul.

“Come on Swiss, I’m not that hot, am I?” he retorted, feeling incredibly full and oh so wet, thoughts he’d keep to himself for now, lest Swiss actually come on the spot.

Both of their efforts were for nothing, however. Swiss thought it was safe, thought he’d imagined enough wrinkly old men to be able to fuck Dew within an inch of his life. The poor multi ghoul lasted three whole strokes, watching the way his cock was swallowed whole by Dew’s folds before his own cunt was clenching around nothing as he near-screeched through his orgasm. He jackhammered into Dewdrop as he worked himself through it, screaming bloody murder at the sensations he was being assaulted with.

“Well, well, well, I didn’t have minute man Swiss on the cards for tonight but Lucifer fuck that was hot. You’ll have to hook me up with my own quinty dick one day,” Dew chimed as Swiss’ thrusts came to a stop, head craning back to look at the multi ghoul. He was sweating buckets, binder nearly off with how much he’d thrashed around, it was a sight to behold.

“Unholy shit, Dewdrop. Need you to come sit on my lap more often.” Swiss panted as he pulled out, cock dripping with Dew’s slick, that he definitely pretended was his own come.

“You certainly fucked me like a man, no woman has ever come that quickly inside of me,” Dew giggled, “You know the rules though, you gotta get me off now.” he added as he moved to lay on his back, legs spread wide, waiting for Swiss’ skilled tongue to lap him up.

Swiss was never one to turn down a meal.

[miasmaghoul]

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."

[st-danger]

Dew x Swiss heat? Maybe a little bit shame?

Dew can’t bring himself to ask for help with his heat so he’s been sneaking things he’s scented into Swiss’ nest in the hope it triggers his own and gets caught

It isn't that heats are embarrassing. Not really. It's something that happens to all of them Above Ground. In all honesty, Dew enjoys it- when it's happening to someone else. He likes it when Aether gets weepy with need and pleads for Dew to knot him. He likes it when Rain whines and shivers and they all get to lie him down and work him through it with knowing hands. He likes watching their pleasure and finding some for himself, whether in their waiting mouths or inside their body that's been running too hot for too long.

He does not like when it happens to him. He does not like being on this side of things, where he loses control.

There's something frightening about it, even though he knows he'll be well-fucked and taken care of. For as much as he adores seeing Swiss and Cumulus mindlessly begging and grinding, he hates living that lack of control. He'll watch it all day every day and jerk himself raw while observing, make no mistake- but he doesn't care to be the one writhing around, at the mercy of the burning low in his belly.

Alone in Swiss's room, Dew sweats, fingers trembling finely as they grab Swiss's pillow, so he can nuzzle it. Shoving his face into the down, smelling him. Rubbing his face all over it. It looks ridiculous, he knows, standing in front of his bed and trying to inhale the lingering traces of cedar-scented shampoo, trying to replace it with his own heat-drenched scent.

It's easier than asking outright. Easier for him to find this, even if it's hours later, and go looking for Dew. Easier for Swiss to find him and offer to shove his knot inside and milk him for all he's worth than it is for Dew to ask to ride it.

It's been creeping on for a few hours now; he's not naive enough to believe that the others haven't already sussed out what's happening. Nobody's stupid. He knows the way Mountain looked at him earlier. He saw the way Papa glanced at him at the end of practice as he'd been speaking with Aether. He'd locked himself in his room after, gotten less than a minute of pumping on his cock before cumming, and the relief he'd felt was so short lived. Now, he's hard and anxious and nothing feels like it will ever be enough, ever again.

He could ask. He could ask and Swiss would take care of him.

He really doesn't want to ask.

He sets the pillow back down, and leaves. Gets a hand on the door and makes it down the hall, almost doubling over when another wicked flare of pleasure boils through him and licks at every nerve. Stumbles, then, hard and scowling, and manages to throw his own room open. Barely. Collapses inside and shuts the door, leaning heavily against it while he works his pants open.

It takes him another minute more, maybe. If that. He pulses in his hand and squirts and dribbles all over his knuckles, blood-hot and sticky and almost bites through his cheek.

The knock on the door is unexpected. He jumps.

"Dew," Swiss growls. "Open up."

Dick still in hand, Dew hesitates, dazed. Heat-stupid. Embarrassed.

"Can smell you," Swiss says from the other side, voice muffled but no less alluring. "Open up and let me come inside."

The wording is, of course, intentional.

Still on his knees, he cracks the door and sees wild, golden eyes peering down.

[iamthecomet]

I Don't Want It (I Just Need It)

Rating: Explict Pairing: Swiss/Dew Featuring: Morning Prone Bone. Quintessence use. Sex as stress relief. Anal Sex. Anal Fingering. Sleepy Sex (On Dew's part). Swiss/Dew banter. Word Count: 2.2k

I don't know guys I got high an wrote 2k of Swiss/Dew prone bone, I don't know what else to say.

Swiss knows exactly what Dew needs to take the edge off.

“I can fix that.” 

Dew doesn’t know if Swiss is talking about fucking the headache out of him, or using magic to make it go away, he shakes his head anyway. Not caring that he wants both. Wants to sink deep into a quintessence induced haze and be fucked within an inch of his life. Nodding is too easy--Swiss will think something's wrong with him. 

“No? Feels like you want it.” 

Dew’s arching into Swiss even as he’s wishing for more sleep. Rolling his hips toward the ounces of stimulation Swiss deigns to give him. Pressing back as Swiss grinds against his ass. He can’t help it. What else is he supposed to do? 

“If I open my eyes my brain will explode.” 

“Then keep them closed,” Swiss whispers. “Don’t need eyes to fuck.” 

Read the rest on AO3.

[ghcstcd]

I'm very stressed, so take another sketch

[thevoiceinsideurhead]

MDNI

Sooo I couldn’t decide which version i preferred so you just get both ✨

[ghoul-slime]

Confectionery

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,087

Pairing: Aether/Dew/Swiss

Tags: threesome, ghouls in heat, armpit fetish, sweaty ghouls, fingering, implied dp, squirting, little bit of foot licking, poly ghouls

Summary:

When Dew goes into heat, it draws every ghoul in the abbey out. The sweet, heady scent of the small fire ghoul’s arousal calls to them, drives them tense and hungry, sniffing around the band ghoul quarters in hopes of getting their claws into his desperate, willing flesh.

When Dew goes into heat, he’s greedy. He wants whoever he can get, however he can get them, as many times as they’ll give it to him. But as much as all the other ghouls want a taste of him, and as happy as Dew is to give it to them, they almost never get there in time.

When Dew goes into heat, Aether and Swiss are always the first to claim him.

or read on tumblr here:

When Dew goes into heat, it draws every ghoul in the abbey out. The sweet, heady scent of the small fire ghoul’s arousal calls to them, drives them tense and hungry, sniffing around the band ghoul quarters in hopes of getting their claws into his desperate, willing flesh. 

When Dew goes into heat, he’s greedy. He wants whoever he can get, however he can get them, as many times as they’ll give it to him. But as much as all the other ghouls want a taste of him, and as happy as Dew is to give it to them, they almost never get there in time. 

When Dew goes into heat, Aether and Swiss are always the first to claim him.

Already high off the smell of him, the two ghouls stalk down the hall towards Dew’s room. In a moment’s time they’re mindlessly hungry, moving forward on instinct and with one purpose. Salivating and ravenous for it. Claws flexing and sharp, white fangs glistening with drool, they converge at Dew’s door to claim their prize.

Inside they find Dew laid out on the bed completely bare and waiting for whoever finds him first. He plays with himself while he waits, patience growing thinner by the minute, a sheen of sweat glistening across every inch of his heated skin. 

Dew’s scent hits them like a wall, thick and cloying, smelling of sweet cinnamon sugar with a hint of smoky ash. All under ridden by the unmistakable smell of sweat and slick. Of sex. 

Dew’s eyes are clouded and unfocused as he ruts his hips up into the air, spreads his thighs in invitation to the two hungry ghouls hastily tearing at their own clothing and stalking up to his bedside.They descend at the same time, sinking to the bed and flanking Dew, who arches his back off the sheets with a whine, writhing with need at the feel of the two bigger ghouls pressing themselves against him.

Swiss and Aether are all over him in an instant. Big, strong hands feeling their way across the warm expanse of Dew’s flushed skin. Soft flesh, pink and plush, warm with want. So sensitive and inviting.

Aether skims his hands up Dew’s torso, across his flat little chest, smoothing wide palms and calloused fingertips across his nipples, sensitive and rosy, stiff little peaks threaded through with shiny silver rings. He brings one hand up to Dew’s neck, curling his fingers around his throat, not pressing or squeezing but feeling. Feeling his steady, beating pulse thudding with anticipation. Feeling the movement of his Adam's apple as he swallows thickly. Aether presses his nose into Dew’s temple and inhales, groaning at the changing scent of him, Dew’s arousal kicking up into high gear, growing sweeter and more intoxicating by the second.

Swiss trails his hands down Dew’s belly, spreading thick fingers to grasp at bony little hips, pinning his writhing frame to the sheets, pressing bruises into fair skin, sharp nails leaving angry, red indents into supple flesh. Across from Aether, he inhales too, growling deep in his chest at the smell of Dew’s heat. He presses his face into Dew’s temple, nosing along his hairline as he breathes him in deep enough to taste the arousal on his tongue.

Dew tips his head back, giving the two larger ghouls more access to the expanse of his throat. Swiss licks a long, wet stripe up the side of Dew’s neck, pausing to suck a bruise into the skin, drawing a needy whine from his lips. Aether noses his way down the side of Dew’s face, breathing heavily until he’s sucking the lobe of Dew’s ear into his mouth, licking wet and messy around the shell of his ear, chasing the scent and taste of him.

Pressed between the two larger ghouls, Dew can feel his body heating up. The more Aether and Swiss grind against him, suck and lick at his flesh, paw at his body with greedy hands, the more Dew’s body responds to the attention. Scent kicking up high as he sweats, as beads of pre bubble up from the wet slit of his hard little cock, as slick starts to dribble from between his cheeks. The smell of him, desperate for cock, body begging to be fucked and filled, to be claimed, drives Swiss and Aether out of their minds.

Dew smells so fucking good it’s all they can do to chase down the source of that intoxicating scent. They roam his body with their mouths, panting and snuffing across Dew’s skin. Swiss presses his face to the crown of Dew’s head, burying his nose into fine, silky blond hair. Aether moves south, planting a trail of wet kisses and licks across his body as he crawls down between Dew’s legs, burying his nose into the thatch of soft blond hair above the base of his cock. 

Swiss follows not long after, licking and nipping at Dew’s chest, then his thigh, and down his calf until he stops where Aether has his legs held up and spread apart. He licks a wet stripe up the flat of Dew’s raised foot, reveling in the sound the little ghoul makes. At how he throws his head back and cries out at the sensation, toes curling and calf muscles flexing at the tickle of Swiss’ tongue pressed against the sole of his foot.

But Swiss and Aether are greedy too, and they want more. They push and pull Dew between them, pinning his arms above his head in a mirror image of each other. Aether dips his head, pressing his nose into Dew’s exposed armpit and inhales, eyes rolling back and groaning at how good, how sweet, how concentrated Dew’s arousal is from this angle.

Swiss follows suit, nosing into Dew’s other armpit, pressing his nose into heated skin lightly damp with sweat. It smells so good. Like Dew amped up to a thousand. It’s syrupy-sweet and rich, but there’s more to it. Swiss inhales, breathes it in through his nose and out through his mouth, tasting the depth of Dew’s scent. He finds warm cinnamon and smoky campfire, and beneath that, hints of toasted sugar and honey. It’s Dew, and the smell of it goes straight to his cock. He inhales again, but this time he’s driven by the need to taste. 

Swiss presses his face into Dew’s armpit, ravenous for it, dragging the flat of his tongue up the expanse of it, drawing a sharp cry from Dew. He licks again, tracing his tongue through the fine hair at the concave of Dew’s pit, tasting the sweet scent of Dew’s heat and a tantalizing hint of sweat. He presses nose into the skin and laps at him, reveling in the way Dew squirms, at how he humps his hips into the air as Swiss works him up with his tongue.

Aether licks at him in a mirror image of Swiss, one big hand wrapped around a delicate wrist, holding Dew’s arm above his head and against the pillows. The more he licks the sweeter he tastes, the higher pitched and more desperate his breathy little cries become. The more Dew wriggles and writhes, flexes the muscles of his stomach, spreads his thighs and curls his toes.

Dew could cum like this, with Swiss and Aether licking into him this way, holding him open and exposed, wet, greedy tongues probing and tasting him in a way more intimate than if they were licking him out between his quivering thighs. His cock kicks out a blurb of pre and he feels another wave of slick dribble out between his cheeks, pooling wet and cool beneath his ass on the sheets.

He whines for it, begging wordlessly for more. His heat is driving his need to be filled up and taken apart. He groans again, long and drawn out. It echoes off the walls of his bedroom, demanding and impatient. It momentarily gets the attention of Swiss and Aether, who pull away long enough to lock eyes with each other over the heaving expanse of Dew’s skinny little chest. 

Together they trail their hands down Dew’s belly. 

Swiss stops to curl a hand around Dew’s straining cock while Aether slips his middle finger between Dew’s cheeks, gathering slick and pushing inside with ease. Dew arches off the bed, and Swiss and Aether turn their attention back to the task at hand. Licking at every inch of exposed flesh they can get their mouths on. Nipping at Dew’s chest, laving at his pierced nipples, snuffing their noses into his armpits, sucking bruises into his neck.

Aether ruts his cock into Dew’s side as he fingers him. Dew is so wet between his legs that his slick flows past Aether’s finger, pooling in his palm and dribbling down to the bedsheets. Dew keens as Aether pushes back in deep and wiggles his finger, wet sounds filling the room as Aether pets the deepest parts of him from the inside.

Swiss relinquishes his grip on Dew’s cock to join Aether between his legs. Trailing the tip one finger around Dew’s rim, stretched around where Aether is buried inside him. Feeling the pool of slick and the way Dew’s puffy little hole winks and flutters around Aether’s finger. He bites down on one of Dew’s nipples as he breaches him with the tip of his finger, sliding in alongside Aether already working in and out of him. Dew howls with pleasure, arching his back and curling his toes, doing his best to grind his hips down onto the two fingers stretching him open. His cock kicks out another blurb of precum onto his stomach as Swiss pushes inside to the last knuckle, until he and Aether are sunk into him as far as they can go.

Swiss catches sight of Aether across from him, eyes squeezed shut, red faced and sweating, drooling into the crevice of Dew’s armpit as he grinds his hips against his writhing body. Swiss groans at the sight and pulls back out, feeling the wet slip of his finger alongside Aether’s before he’s pushing it back in, sliding in and out, back and forth, in tandem with Aether’s rapid pace.

Inside, Dew is wet, hot, and tight. Slick walls spasming and clenching against the intrusion of the two larger ghoul’s thick fingers inside him. Dew relishes in the feeling of being pressed between them, of being spread open and stretched, pulled and prodded at, at the feeling of sharp fangs and wet mouths across the expanse of his skin. The way they both hump and rut against him, the heat of them driving his own body temperature up even higher. The sensations are almost too much, but his lust-addled brain still screams out for more, desperate to be claimed by the two ghouls working his body.

Aether and Swiss push in at the same time and Dew cums with a shout, eyes rolling back and body spasming. His vision goes fuzzy around the edges as he cums hard, painting his belly with ropes of white and squirting out a stream of slick as his muscles clamp down around the fingers still inside him.

Dew heaves in lungfuls of air, vision clearing as he feels Swiss and Aether draw out of him, leaving his hole empty and dripping. He groans at the loss, sweaty and panting between the two larger ghouls still flanking him. His orgasm took the edge off, but he’s still hot and aching to be fucked, the smell and feel of the two larger ghouls driving his heat into full force. 

He wants more than just their fingers filling him up.

He whines for it until he feels his body being lifted off the soaked sheets, until he’s being pushed and pulled and lifted as Swiss and Aether rearrange themselves on the bed, facing each other and sandwiching Dew’s spent, sweaty body between them. Dew’s head lolls back against Swiss’ shoulder as they push themselves together, as Aether grasps his own cock together with Swiss’ in one big fist. Aether pants into his ear and Swiss mouths at his neck, tonguing at his pulsepoint and worrying the skin with his fangs while they rearrange his legs and spread his ass. Together he and Aether ease him down until he’s hovering just above them, feeling the wet, sticky heads of their cocks kissing his rim.

When they start to push up inside him, Dew throws his head back and wails.