#mushy may

[everybodyshusband]

teaching a skill

mushy may ; day twenty two !! (approx. 860 words)

read under the cut or on ao3 :)

Aeon flops down dramatically onto the couch, only narrowly avoiding clocking his head on Mountain’s blanket-covered hip bone. “I’m so bored.”

Mountain hums. “Want to sit with me and read, bug? You can come under the blanket with me,” he sing-songs.

“Nooo,” Aeon moans. “I’m so hungry I can’t focus on anything which makes me bored but I can’t do anything because I’m hungry.” He glances up at Mountain and whacks his shoulder when he sees the earth ghoul smirking. “Don’t laugh at me, Mounty, I’m dying.”

Mountain sighs and puts his book down. “You wanna help me cook something then? I was going to make brownies later but I can make them now to give you something to snack on.”

“Please!” Aeon practically yells. “I’m gonna starve to death…”

“Come on. Up you get, buggy.” Mountain stands up and holds his hands out, pulling Aeon to his feet and leading him over to the kitchen. Aeon stands and watches as Mountain opens up drawers and cupboards, pulling out bowls, measuring cups, assorted ingredients and his old beat-up recipe book. “Alright, all we have to do is follow this recipe and then in about an hour, we’ll have some delicious brownies for you to eat. Are you ready?”

Aeon nods but… “I’ve never baked anything before, I– I don’t really know how to do it.”

“Hey, that’s alright,” Mountain assures him. “I’ll help you. I’ll set up the scales for you while you have a flick through the book and find the brownie recipe. I’ll be under the sweets category.”

Aeon shoots him a thumbs up and picks up the book. It’s one that Mountain has compiled himself from magazine cutouts and handwritten recipes, some passed down from the ghouls that came before him and some new creations from the earth ghoul’s own mind. By the time he’s located the brownie recipe, Mountain has set up the scales and is already beginning to measure out the flour; it’s no surprise to Aeon that Mountain remembers the measurements by heart, brownies are a once a week occurrence at least in their pack.

“Ah, perfect, thanks, Ae. Do you want to take over from here? I’ll be here helping the whole time.”

Aeon nods. “Yeah, sure. Thank you, Mounty.”

He gets a pat on the back and a kiss on the top of his head in response. “You’re welcome, bug. Now c’mon, Dew messaged and asked if I could make him something to eat. Lazy bastard doesn’t want to lift a finger and bake them himself even after I told him he could do it himself if he wanted them that badly.” Aeon turns to Mountain, eyebrow raised. “Fine,” the earth ghoul relents. “I said I’d be happy to and that I love him very much and did he want sprinkles and melted chocolate on his brownies?”

Aeon snorts. “That’s more like it,” he laughs. “I was getting worried for a second there, Mount.”

From there, the time passes quickly. Mountain jumps in to help or give advice whenever the quintessence ghoul asks for it, but for the most part, Aeon is doing well without too much guidance. The only real trouble comes when it’s time to decorate them; Aeon has no idea how to do that without messing up all his hard work by making them look atrocious.

“That’s half the fun,” Mountain argues. “Plus it’s endearing if they look a bit shit, and personally I think they taste better if they don’t look all fancy,” he confesses. “We’re only dripping on melted chocolate, you’ll be fine, I promise. Here, watch me do the first tray and you can copy that for the second, yeah?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Thanks, Mount.” Aeon watches intently as Mountain dips his spoon in the melted chocolate and picks up a decent amount of tempered chocolate on the end of it. The earth ghoul spins it around to stop the chocolate from dripping and Aeon is surprised that when Mountain reaches the tray of brownies he just… goes for it. The chocolate drips every which way and covers the brownies in a messy drizzle that Aeon can’t deny looks absolutely delicious. When it’s his turn, he does the same, opting for a slightly more uniform pattern than Mountain’s but the earth ghoul assures him the slab still looks more than edible. The two of them take it in turns with the container of sprinkles, covering their squares in the colourful blobs.

They cut the trays into brownie-sized pieces and compile both batches into one big container, making sure to set some aside for the two of them—and Dew. At a nod from Mountain, Aeon grabs one out of the container and takes a big bite, eyes widening in delight at the flavour. “I made that,” he says with his mouth still full. “I made that and it tastes so good!”

Mountain grins taking a bite of his own brownie “Yeah you did! It’s really good, well done!”

Aeon smiles widely, stuffing the rest of the brownie into his mouth gleefully. “We gotta go find Dew,” he urges. “I wanna go brag that I can cook and he can’t!”

#mushy may #day twenty two !! #aeon ghoul #mountain ghoul #nameless ghouls #the band ghost #husband ficlets

[forlorn-crows]

𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆!

[click image for better quality. full list ID under the cut.]

it's that time of year once again, for the annual mushy may month of prompts! you'll see some repeats from last year, as well as many new ideas to choose from. any ghost artist/writer is welcome to participate in any capacity, as much or as little as you'd like!

this year, there is one prompt per day. additionally, there is a 'bonus prompts' list that you may use to "swap out" if you don't like the prompt for a given day.

happy creating, and don't forget to tag me so i can see ♥

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙮 ♥

cuteness aggression

late night snacks

massage

wound tending/first aid

animals

"you're blushing"

telling stupid jokes

sex turning into making love

warming them up

quiet nights

papa time (a day to get your favorite papa(s) in on the love!)

first time

"just wanted to hear your voice"

silly baby talk

painting on each other

cooking a special recipe

funny t-shirts

holding hands

confessions

gardening

can't stop laughing

long drives

morning coffee cuddles

acts of friendship

sharing a secret comfort item (i.e. a blanket, a pendant)

"you smell nice"

backstage shenanigans

collecting objects (i.e. rocks, seashells, location magnets)

girls night

by candlelight

looking at/taking pictures

BONUS PROMPS

vacations

gift giving

hide and seek

doing each others' makeup

long distance

coffee shop au

reminiscing

first kiss

jam session (ghost songs or not)

"shut up i'm taking care of you"

special thanks to @wrathofrats @chewbrry @miasmaghoul @coffeeghoulie @divine-misfortune and others for sending me prompts this year ♡

#mushy may 2024 #mushy may #the band ghost #writing prompts #i stg if theres a typo in here....

[miasmaghoul]

Mountain fucking dewdrop so hard that, dewdrop accidentally pee's when he's climaxing and mountain comforts him/cleans him up?

Using this prompt to serve a dual purpose!

Mushy May - Day 9

Prompt: Aftercare

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Mountain/water!Dew Contains: size difference, rough sex, accidental wetting, embarrassment, lots of comfort and reassurance Word Count: ~3.3k (jfc) PISSBOYS UNITE!

Dew rarely feels as overwhelmed as he does beneath Mountain.

Every thrust forces the air from his lungs, and even his gills aren’t enough to help him catch his breath. He clings to Mountain for dear life, shaky legs wrapped around his waist and claws dug into his broad shoulders. Mountain has his face buried in the juncture of Dew’s neck and shoulder, spewing a stream of nonsense into sweat-slick skin. Dew knows he's not much better off - the stone walls of Mountain's bedchamber echo his helpless yips, and he's entirely too far beyond being able to quash them. 

Mountain’s as lost in it as he is, one hand fisted in Dew’s hair and the other at his lower back, holding his hips up off the mattress. Dew swears he can feel Mountain in his throat like this, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. Mountain engulfs him, overpowers him, makes him feel weak and small in a way no one else does. Fills him, stretches him, hits places the little ghoul didn’t even know he had. Dew always feels it for days afterwards, and he doesn’t mind in the slightest.

Today, though, something is different. It’s subtle, but the longer Mountain fucks into his little body the more obvious it becomes. An vaguely familiar pressure accompanying every excruciatingly pleasurable drag over his prostate. Dew can’t place it, but as his cock kicks and leaks between their bodies he finds he doesn’t much care. It’s good, whatever it is. A deep, insistent throb in his pelvis that has his eyes rolling back in his head and his toes curling. 

The room is filled with the wet, filthy sound of Mountain using him, and it does nothing to stave off the release rapidly barrelling down Dew’s spine. That odd pressure isn’t helping, but something about it has a sense of unease prickling at the back of his mind. It still isn’t enough to distract, though - Dew can’t focus long enough to get out anything besides a breathless cry of fuck, fuck, fuck, but clearly Mountain understands. The other ghoul lets out a deep groan, the sound rattling through Dew’s chest as Mountain nips at the sensitive spot between his gills and his ear.

“Getting close, tadpole?” Dew makes a gurgling sound, struggling to keep his legs around the other ghoul’s waist. He’s shaking head to toe now, every nerve buzzing, and Mountain lets out a tight moan when a fresh wave of slick leaks around his cock. “Yeah you are,” he breathes, licking a slow stripe along the little ghoul’s jaw. He meets Dew’s unfocused gaze with blazing emerald eyes, tendrils of auburn hair stuck to his forehead. “You’re going to make a mess for me, aren’t you?”

Dew moans low and broken when Mountain slams into him, knocking the last bit of his brain loose. The other ghoul catches him in a searing kiss, all tongue and fang, and the way his thrusts start going jerky tells Dew that he’s almost at his limit too.

“Let go,” Mountain pants into his mouth, sucking Dew’s lower lip for good measure. “Let me up so I can make you.”

The words are little more than a courtesy and they both know it. Mountain could do anything he wanted with the little body trapped beneath him and Dew couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Still, though, he complies. Lets his limbs fall useless to the mattress, his chest heaving as Mountain pushes himself upright. He towers over the Dew like this, standing between his quivering thighs at the edge of the bed, and the reminder of Mountain’s size is enough to have Dew throbbing.

Mountain wastes no time, gripping Dew’s bony hips hard enough to leave a purple stain of his fingerprints behind. He lifts the little ghoul off the mattress and starts a merciless rhythm of deep, pounding strokes. Not fast, but so fucking hard they make Dew’s brain bounce around in his skull. The angle is incredible, the pace maddening, and within a handful of thrusts Dew is practically insensate.

“Mount,” he gasps, drool leaking from the corner of his kiss-bruised lips, “Mount, please, fuck - need…I need - make it, make me, fuck, please-”

Dew raises a trembling hand to reach for his poor neglected cock, so hard it’s long since gone dusky and achy. Mountain bats his hand away before he can get there and Dew whimpers, trying his best to blink the haze from his glassy eyes. His vision clears just in time to see Mountain shift his grip, supporting his slight body with one hand and wrapping the other around his stiff little dick. It covers him completely, and Dew is powerless to stop the choked moan that slithers past his lips.

Mountain starts tugging, slow and methodical, and Dew feels himself starting to unravel. He can’t hold his head up, dropping back onto the mattress and mindlessly toying with a nipple ring. He’s out of his mind, every devastatingly perfect thrust against his prostate forces another blurt of pre from his swollen tip. That odd pressure makes itself known again too, only now it doesn’t fade. Dew can’t figure out why it sets his teeth on edge, but the only reason he hasn’t fallen apart at the seams already is the jingle of warning bells in the back of his useless head.

“You’re so wet,” Mountain huffs then, the slick sound of his hand nearly drowning out the words. “Always so fucking wet.” 

Dew moans out a mindless uh-huh; it’s only going to get worse and they both know it. There are no more words spoken, Dew reduced to reedy, punched-out cries and Mountain to little more than low growls and panting. It’s instinctual, animalistic. Brutal in the best way. Intense and viscerally satisfying. Mountain cants his hips just so, thumbs over the head, and the coil of heat in Dew’s belly goes taut. His balls draw up, his stomach clenches, and when that strange pressure floods his pelvis he’s hit with a wave of icy realization.

“Oh no,” he gasps, so very breathless, “no, oh no, no, no no no-”

Dew cums hard, arching off the mattress with a strained shout. It comes in waves, spurt after spurt coating Mountain’s hand and his own stomach. The other ghoul snarls, fucking into him faster, harder, chasing his own release, and Dew tries so hard to control himself.

But it’s too late. He can’t stop it. .  

Mountain’s hips stutter when the stream starts, and the sound Dew makes when he feels his piss splash against his belly is one of utter humiliation. He hides behind his hands, tries to curl his boneless body into itself, but he’s stuck. Dew is barely aware of Mountain’s strangled grunt, of the way his body bows, the way his hands shake and hold him tight.

He grasps his control back as soon as Mountain goes still, red hot from head to toe and teary eyed as he staunches the stream. He doesn’t even feel like he just came, the burn of embarrassment too overwhelming for him to process anything else. Mountain says something, but Dew doesn’t hear it over the rush of blood in his ears. 

The second Mountain’s hand moves from his still twitching dick Dew scrambles away, giving an unconscious yelp when Mountain’s not yet soft cock slips from the oversensitive clutch of his body. He stumbles to the bathroom and slams the door shut behind him, dizzy and filthy and so fucking ashamed he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

The little ghoul leans against the cool tile wall with a tight sigh, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. His whole body feels heavy, worn, the way it always does when Mountain is done with him. It cries out for contact, for the tight circle of the other ghoul’s strong arms. For the grounding rumble of his purr and the soothing scent of fresh soil and evergreen. He craves it.

Instead, he’s alone in a bathroom, surrounded by nothing but silence and the smell of sex and the way he embarrassed himself. Dew tells himself he won’t cry - it was an accident, after all - but there’s a telltale tightness in his chest that suggests he won’t have any control over that either.  

What the fuck is he supposed to do? It’s not like he can stay here forever, it’s Mountain’s bathroom. Eventually he’ll have to leave. Have to see the other ghoul and say…what is he supposed to say to Mountain? Sorry? That doesn’t seem like the right thing to say when someone fucks you so hard you piss yourself. It’s not nearly apologetic enough. Hell, Mountain will probably come stomping in any minute to throttle him. To sneer at him and call him disgusting. He deserves it, but the thought alone is still enough to give him the hiccups. He sinks to the floor and clutches his knees to his chest, shivering and sniffling, and awaits the inevitable.

What he gets, though,

“Dew?” Mountain’s voice filters through the thick oaken door, low and calm. “Dew, are you alright?”

Dew stares at the door wide-eyed, chest tight. Why doesn’t Mountain sound angry? Why wasn’t he storming in? Surely he’s upset, why wouldn’t he be? Dew swallows hard, but when he tries to talk he can’t find his voice. He whimpers instead, tucking his chin to his chest. Fuck, he’s pathetic. It’s a few minutes before Mountain speaks again.

“Droplet, please say something. Please.”

Dew’s ear twitches at the pet name, and at the other ghoul’s tone. Mountain doesn’t sound upset. He sounds…concerned. Worried. Dew peeks over his knees at the door, trying to calm the slam of his heart against his ribs. He clears his throat, swallowing down just enough of the bile in his throat to croak out a response.

“‘m sorry,” he manages, throaty and thick. Probably too quiet to be heard. There’s a soft sigh from the other side of the door.

“Dew…is it alright if I come in?” 

He wants to say no. Wants to tell Mountain that he’d rather never be seen again, thank you very much. Wants to, but can’t. Can’t because he’s lacking quite literally all of his usual vitriol, forced into timidity by his own stupid body. Can’t because, if he’s honest, he wants to see Mountain too. Wants to feel his hands, his arms, his chest. Wants that comfort. Needs it.

Dew doesn’t know when the tears started, but now he can’t stop them. A sob bubbles its way out of his chest, and before he can so much as blink the door flies open and Mountain is kneeling before him, hands raised, worry writ large on his handsome face.

Something in Dew’s chest cracks, and before he can stop himself he’s launching himself into the other ghoul’s arms. Mountain doesn’t so much as hesitate, wrapping Dew up tight in a cocoon of familiar limbs. He buries his face in Mountain’s neck on instinct, hunting through the musk of sweat and sex for the scent of solid earth.

Mountain holds him through the tears, through the sobs. Doesn’t shush him or prod at him. Simply lets Dew cry it all out against his shoulder, stroking his hair and running his knuckles down his spine. It’s only a few minutes before his tears dry up and Dew is left simply sniffling, idly fiddling with Mountain’s chest hair. The other ghoul is the one to break the silence.

“Are you back with me, tadpole?”

Dew nods, a bit sluggish, but feeling more clear headed than he had a few minutes ago. He huffs against Mountain’s throat, shifting, and the movement serves to remind him that he’s still covered in…everything. His own messes coating his stomach and Mountain’s leaking down his thighs. His face heats again and Dew feebly tries to shove himself away, but Mountain won’t let him.

“‘m gross,” he murmurs, voice strained. “C’mon, lemme up.”

“No,” Mountain says simply, holding the little ghoul to his chest. “Not until I know you’re alright.”

It would be easy to lie. To say he was fine and wrestle his way out of the other ghoul’s arms. His ass may be sore, but his arms and legs don’t feel quite so much like jelly anymore. It would be easy.

“No,” he admits, tucking his chin to his chest, “I’m sorry, Mount, I didn’t -”

“It’s alright, Dew,” Mountain coos, rubbing his shin. “I promise it’s alright.” Dew pulls back just enough to scowl up at him.

“What do you mean, ‘it’s alright’?” Dew snaps, but it carries no malice. He’s so tired all of a sudden. “I fuckin’...I pissed on your damn hand, how is that alright?”

Mountain answers with a small smile, leaning down to give Dew an affectionate peck on the forehead. He knocks their horns together for good measure, and Dew will never admit how much that tiny gesture comforts him.

“I mean it’s alright,” he says with a shrug, “it’s not a big deal.” Dew stares at him like he’s grown a second head and Mountain huffs out a soft laugh. “We can talk about it later, okay?”

“But-”

“Later, droplet,” Mountain repeats, tucking mussed silver hair behind Dew’s pink-tipped ear. “For now, will you let me help you get cleaned up? You’re shivering, you must be frozen.”

Dew blinks. He hadn’t noticed, but now that he’s thinking about something besides his own crippling embarrassment - yeah, he’s definitely cold. Cold and sore and tired.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “yeah, okay.” 

Mountain nods and they both fall silent again. He helps Dew to his feet, and the little ghoul really has to fight the urge to hide himself. Mountain busies himself getting the shower ready, testing the water and gathering the bottles of shampoo and conditioner he keeps in his cupboard especially for Dew. He also tosses a small pouch into the bottom of the stall and the room rapidly fills with the scent of eucalyptus and sage. Dew groans as heady steam fills his lungs, flaring his gills and letting the warmth wash over him.

Mountain guides him into the shower with a gentle hand on his lower back, and Dew takes a moment to bask in the perfectly temperate spray. They fall into a familiar routine; Mountain washes his hair, always so thorough in the way he massages Dew’s scalp. In the way he combs through the conditioner. In the way he scrubs Dew’s back with peppermint-scented soap, applied with a home-grown loofah.

What’s different, though, is the way Mountain talks. This is usually something they do in silence, but today Mountain has chosen to walk through everything he does. Everywhere he touches, asking Dew each time ‘can I’ or ‘is this okay’ or ‘do you want me to stop’. Any other day Dew would find such frequent check-ins irritating. Obnoxious and unnecessary. Today, though, he’s nothing but appreciative. 

Mountain works slowly and methodically, sinking to his knees once Dew’s back is finished to take care of the mess on his thighs. He’s so delicate, so gentle, washing away more and more of Dew’s tension with each pass of the sponge. He hisses a bit when Mountain swipes over his abused hole, all pink and puffy, but it’s nothing he can’t handle.

“Alright,” Mountain murmurs, caressing Dew’s waist and pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, “are you ready to turn around?”

Dew hesitates. He doesn’t mean to, but he does. There’s not really anything left to see, the water has rinsed away most of the mess coating his belly, but he suddenly feels weirdly exposed. 

“You don’t have to, it’s alright,” Mountain soothes, still holding his waist. “Would you rather do it yourself? Or I can leave, if it’s easier-”

“No!” Dew grabs at Mountain’s hand, his stomach flipping. “U-um,” he clears his throat, blaming his flushed cheeks on the warm water, “I mean…fuck, I dunno what I mean. But please don’t leave.” The last few words are barely a whisper, ones Dew almost feels guilty for saying, but the sigh of obvious relief Mountain looses helps to assuage the feeling.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “not if you don’t want me to.”

They stay like that for a handful of moments before Dew steadies himself with a deep breath. He turns slowly, carefully, appreciative of the way Mountain doesn’t so much as move until he exhales. He holds up the loofah in silent offer, and Dew shakes his head.

“‘s better when you do it,” he mumbles. Mountain nods and gets back to work without question

He scrubs Dew’s chest and arms with practiced motions, luxurious swirls of that rough sponge. He pauses to draw an inverted triangle in the suds between Dew’s nipples, and Dew can’t help the little giggle it drags out of him. Mountain smiles up at him and Dew allows himself to return it. It falters when Mountain asks his next question.

“Is it alright if I wash you here?”

Dew knows what he means, but Mountain gestures anyway. At his stomach and limp little dick, hanging shy between his skinny thighs. Dew huffs out a harsh exhale.

“Yeah,” he breathes, giving a shallow nod. “Yeah, it’s alright.” Mountain’s already kind smile turns impossibly fond. 

“Thank you,” the other ghoul says, and Dew barks out a short laugh.

“You’re washing my dick after I pissed on you, and you’re the one thanking me?”

“I’m not thanking you for that, tadpole,” Mountain replies, scrubbing over his stomach. “I’m thanking you for trusting me to help.”

Dew…doesn’t know what to say to that. Is that what this is? Trust? It’s not the first word that would’ve come to mind - that would be vulnerability. But vulnerability and trust come hand in hand, he supposes. Hard to have one without the other. To be vulnerable with someone is to trust them, and Mountain?

Yeah, he trusts Mountain.

“I feel fuckin’ ridiculous,” Dew finally admits with a groan, shoulders sagging. He scrubs at his face with both hands, gills fluttering. 

“You shouldn’t.” Mountain finishes his stomach and moves on to his thighs. Dew peers down at him from between two fingers.

“What kind of fuckin’ water ghoul pisses himself, Mount?” Mountain stills, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You didn’t do it on purpose, Dew,” he says, easy as anything. “It wasn’t something you could control.”

“I know, but -” 

Dew cuts himself off with a surprised chirp when Mountain finally palms him with a soapy hand. There’s nothing lascivious in his touch, just simple care. It’s strangely comforting, and Dew finds himself sighing when Mountain pulls back.

“There we go,” he says, pushing himself upright with a grunt. Dew lets himself be turned, guided back under the water. Lets Mountain rinse the bubbles from his skin and watches them swirl down the drain. “All set.”

Mountain steps away, probably just to set down the loofah, but any distance is too far right now. Dew spins on his heel and rushes forward, flinging his arms around Mountain’s waist and burying his face in his chest. Mountain doesn’t miss a beat, wrapping the little ghoul in a tight embrace and kicking up the purr Dew loves so much. 

“Thank you,” Dew mumbles, pressing a kiss to Mountain’s wet skin, “and I’m sorry.”

“If you apologize one more time I’m going to ask who you are and what you’ve done with my Dewdrop.”

Dew pulls back to glare at him only to have Mountain flash that beatific smile, all chipped fangs and sparkling eyes. Maybe it’s the adrenaline wearing off, maybe it’s his body finally acknowledging his bone-melting orgasm, but Dew can’t help himself from returning it. He pushes himself up onto his tiptoes and presses a kiss to Mountain’s chin.

“Can we go to bed now?” Mountain drops a kiss of his own between his horns.

“Soon,” he promises. “Do you want to go get dressed while I wash up?” Dew shakes his head, nuzzling back between Mountain’s pecs. 

“I’m comfy here,” he murmurs, and Mountain laughs.

“Whatever you want, droplet.”

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #mushy may #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #water!dew #mountain/dew #mountain x dew #pissboys 4 lyfe #less piss than you may expect but it's there!

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 Mary has certain rules you should both stick to for your relationship to work. However, rules are made to be broken and Mary hasn't always played by the rules. 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 Sex turning into making love 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩(𝐬) Mary Goore x AFAB!Reader 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 Smut (18+ only, MINORS DNI), PiV unprotected sex (use protection yall!!), Mary becoming emotional, crying during sex, love confessions, rough sex turning into slow love making. The word cunt is used to refer to reader's genitals once. 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1090 words. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 Made myself feel all mushy and sappy writing this, damn. This fic has been v briefly proofread because we don't proofread here, we die like Terzo I mean what. 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 𝐓𝐢𝐩 𝐉𝐚𝐫

There are rules Mary has in place for your relationship. Rules that he insists you both should stick to for things to go smoothly with no complications. You confine your sexual relations to two days a week, you go on a date every weekend to bond away from intimate activities, but the most important rule (to Mary at least)?

No eye contact during sex.

It’s not that they don’t want to see you. They’ve memorised the way your mouth drops open, and how ecstasy morphs your features when they bring you to completion from the many times they’ve watched your face during sex. They just don’t want things to get messy. Your relationship works so well because you’re not privy to how truly vulnerable and powerless they’ll feel under your gaze if your eyes meet in the throes of carnal passion. It works because they’re in control, they set the pace, and you respect their boundaries and needs without prying. And it works because you’re happy to let them take the lead and offer you pleasure and companionship without feelings muddying everything. They’re not sure they could handle it if you realised how deeply they cared for you beyond friendship and sex. The rejection would crush them.

Worries about you ending your relationship are far form his mind right now, however. Instead, he’s preoccupied with the feeling of your walls squeezing him as he pistons his cock in and out of you, skin slapping on skin mingling with the squelching of your arousal. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, heels of your feet digging into his ass, and your nails claw at his back as he moans into your neck. He can feel himself crawling closer to climax each time his pelvis meets yours, but there’s another feeling too. Something unfamiliar. He tries to dismiss it as getting caught up in the moment but he’s not sure that’s what it is. He can’t pin it down to pick it apart and analyse what it is, so lost in the way you cling to one another.

“Fuck, Mary, stop. Stop!”

Your demand snaps them out of their thoughts immediately, pulling out of you and removing their face from your neck to look at you with wide, panicked eyes.

“Did I hurt you? Shit, I didn’t mean to.”

You shake your head and offer them a comforting smile as you cup their face in both hands. “Let’s just… go slow, yeah? I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere. We have all the time in the world.”

Mary blinks. It’s the first time you’ve asked them for something like this. Usually, you’re content to let them drag orgasm after orgasm out of you and treat you as rough as they need to. They’re not accustomed to you asking for something different and what you want from them feels scarily close to something they’ve never allowed themselves to experience with you or with anyone else.

“Let me take care of you?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as they freeze, uncertain.

Maybe it’s the heat of the moment, maybe it’s that unidentifiable feeling, but Mary nods and allows you to reach down and guide them back inside your cunt. They gasp when you pull them so that you’re laying side by side and throw your leg over their hip to pull them closer.

“Is this okay?” you ask. Neither of you move as you wait for their answer.

Eventually, he nods. “This is good. Should I… should I move?”

“Don’t forget to take it slow.”

With another nod, Mary rocks his hips against yours and slides in and out of your wet heat. His thrusts are leisurely but deep, both of you moving in tandem and pulling one another so close that there’s no space left between your bodies. Mary’s nose bumps against yours and he reaches up to brush his jet black hair out of his face, eyes accidentally meeting yours.

The moment he catches your gaze, it’s like something snaps into place in his brain. Things start to make sense and for once he’s not terrified of what might happen if he lets down his walls for you. The fear of losing you and what you both share dissipates in that moment as you smile reassuringly and your foreheads touch. Mary’s arms scramble to wrap around your lower back and he rolls so that you’re on top of him. You continue to roll your hips against him, and he feels himself hit deeper within you as you move your legs so that you’re straddling his hips but with your torso still resting on top of his. One of his hands reaches up hesitantly to caress your cheek and he realises that he’s shaking.

“Shh, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” You wipe away a tear that had started to trickle down their face and seal your lips over his once more. It’s a kiss that feels more tender and emotional than others you’ve shared. It feels like what Mary thought first kisses were supposed to feel like. It makes their chest swell and a fuzzy warmth flood their body and their eyes flutter closed as you both lose yourselves in one another. The world beyond their bedroom, beyond even their apartment, may well not exist.

Mary doesn’t know how what comes over them, but when they finally break the kiss their stare into your eyes once more. The way you smile adoringly, doing the majority of the work and trailing delicate fingers over their skin and through their hair, makes their breath hitch. Their lips part in preparation to say something but you press a finger to their lips and gently shush them.

“You don’t need to say it. I love you too.”

I love you too.

Fresh tears spill down their face as they finally climax, gasping as their cock kicks and they paint your insides. A few seconds later and your walls flutter and convulse around them, milking them as you let out a soft moan. Your movements slow gradually, both of you coming down from your climaxes after a few minutes, and you place a chaste kiss on their lips.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, easing you off his softening dick and placing you on the mattress beside him before immediately snuggling up to you. “I love you so much.”

The last thing he hears as he starts to drift into a peaceful sleep is your murmuring voice as you hold him close.

“I love you more.”

#spicy content #mushy may #mary goore #mary goore x reader #repugnant #smut #fanfic #my fanfic #mine

[chapel-of-rizztual]

Bathtime.

Mushy may/Mountain Monday: day 1.

And probably the only one I’ll do

It became a ritual for both of them. Crawling into each other’s arm and into the bathtub that was in Rains bathroom, washing away the dirt and grime that came from the greenhouse and the lake. They’d been yelled at more then once for flooding the bathroom, water slashing everywhere as one pushed into the other, a new desperation and neediness crawling at their skin.

But today wasn’t like that. Today the water remained still, only rippling slightly with each breath they took. 

Rain was fully submerged, his gills fluttering with each breath. Only his hands, held onto Mountain’s shoulder and back and one leg, hooked over Mountain’s hip remained above the water. Mountain rested between his leg, one arm under Rains back, supporting him, the other under his head, hand buried in his hair as he ran gently claws though his hair. 

They’d been like this for hours now, happily laying in the water together, basking in the gentleness and closeness of each other’s company. Mountain’s tail occasionally flicking the hot tap back on whenever the water cooled a little too much for his liking. 

Mountain pulled away from where his head was buried in Rain’s neck. He taps the water ghouls chin gently, signalling him to come back up to the surface. Rain breeched the surface of the water, flicking the excess water off his ears,  a small pout on his lips. 

“I was comfy down there.” He pouts even more.

Mountain laughs lightly at him.

“I know, I’m sorry, dragonfly.”

“Then why ask me to come up.” His pout deepens.

“Wanted to wash your hair.” Mountain smiles at him. 

Rain looks at him in fake thought.

“I suppose I can allow that.” 

“I didn’t think you’d object to that.” Mountain laughs again. “I’ll even use Dew’s special shampoo and conditioner.” 

Rain gasps at him. 

“Scandalous. He’ll kill you if he find out you’ve used that, you know.” 

“I will squash him like the bug he is if he even tries.” 

It was Rain’s turn to laugh. 

“You know, I’d like to see that.” 

Nothing else gets said as Mountain lathers up Rain's hair with Dew’s expensive shampoo. Rain leans into his touch, pushing his head back into Mountain’s hands with a small sigh. 

Mountain scratches at his scalp with his claws, making Rain's eyes flutter shut, another sigh leaving his lips. 

“That feel good, darling?” 

Rain hums, unable to speak, feeling himself go fully boneless at Mountain’s gentle touch, he’s unable to stop the purr that rumbles though his chest.

Mountain is quick to wash the suds from his hair and wash the conditioner in, leaving it there to soak in. 

“Your hair's so curly.” Mountain twists one of the soapy ringlets round his finger. “So pretty.” 

Rain whines and Shakes his head, feeling his cheeks heat up. 

“What? It’s true.” Mountain runs his thumb along Rain's cheekbones. “You’re so pretty, Rain.” 

“Stop it.” Rain whispers, a blush high on his cheeks.

“Never.” Mountain places a gentle kiss to his lips. “Prettiest dragonfly at the lake.” He places another kiss to Rain's lips. “If I had a net, I’d catch you and keep you forever.” 

Rain hums, squinting his eyes open. 

“You don’t need a net.” He leans up slightly to return a kiss. “I’m already yours, forever.” 

#mushy may #mountain monday #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #ficlet #ghost headcanons #my writing

[iamthecomet]

Mushy May Day 9

Aftercare Rating : Mature Pairing: Mountain/Dew Featuring: Mountain doing his best. Dew's a brat all the time. So soft. Idiots in love. Word Count: 550+ Read under the cut, or on AO3.

Dew is a shuddering wreck beneath Mountain’s hands. He feels the fine tremor under his fingers as he strokes them up and down Dew’s spine, caressing each knobbing vertebrae. Dew tucks himself deeper, digs his nose into Mountain’s neck, nearly spears him with a horn as he nuzzles closer.

He makes a pitiful noise. Nothing like the unholy brat he was fifteen minutes ago. Mountain shushes him, adjusts him so he isn’t at risk of getting a horn to the jugular.

“Do you want to get cleaned up, firefly?” Mountain whispers, pressing his lips to the crown of Dew’s head. Smelling sweat, and sex, and the lingering smell of Mountain—juniper and sage stuck to Dew’s skin.

Dew shakes his head. His fingers clench and release on Mountain’s shoulder. One dips to rest over his heart, still hammering against his ribs.

“Can you tell me if you’re ok?”

Dew nods.

Mountain sighs. “Words, spitfire.”

Dew grumbles, but he untangles himself, lifts his head. Mountain thumbs away the remnants of his tears, slips his fingers into Dew’s golden hair and cradles his cheek, his jaw. The way Dew’s face fits into his hand is always startling. A reminder, constant, of how much smaller Dew is than him. Dew leans his face into Mountain’s palm, copper eyes fluttering closed.

“Dew.”

“Hmm?”

He’s still drifting. Mountain doesn’t need much more than that sound to know it. Fading off at the end, still lost in space.

“You going to come back to me any time soon?”

Dew opens his eyes, they’re a little glassy, but they focus on Mountain’s face. “Maybe.”

Dew drags his fingers over a bruise darkening under Mountain’s jaw. Mountain’s sure it’s bad. Dew’d latched on at about the time Mountain had shoved him down on his cock and he hadn’t let up until Mountain pulled his hair and dragged him away, watching to see the wreckage of his face.

“I made a mess,” Dew says softly, stroking his fingers over Mountain’s pulse, over sore skin. Mountain pulls Dew back down to rest against him, palm pressed over the small of his back, spanning nearly the whole thing.

Dew sighs bodily, shoves his nose back into the juncture of Mountains’ shoulder and neck and inhales.

“What are you doing?”

“You smell like me.” Dew mumbles.

“That why you don’t want to go get cleaned up?”

Dew shrugs. The non answer is more of an answer than words would have been.

Mountain tries again. Knowing if Dew doesn’t allow him to clean him up he’ll complain about it for days. “You can’t be comfortable, Droplet.”

“’m fine.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Mountain retorts, chuckling to himself. “Are you going to make me carry you to the bath? Really?”

Dew shrugs again.

Mountain gathers the little ghoul into his arms and swings his feet over the edge of the bed. He presses a kiss to the top of his head when Dew grumbles.

“Just a few more minutes, firefly. I promise. Then we can rest.”

“Could just let me rest now.”

“Being a brat is what got you into this mess, you know.”

Dew grins up at him as Mountain sets him on his feet next to the tub. Devious despite the still present shake of his limbs. “Yeah? And?” “Get in the tub, Dewdrop.”

#comet writes #mushy may #Mountain/Dew #Dew/Mountain #Dewdrop Ghoul #Mountain Ghoul #Ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction

[divine-misfortune]

Mushy May, day 4. First kiss.

Rating: everyone

Pairing: Swiss/Mountain (swiss alps?)

Words: 1,119

Summary: Swiss has agonized and torn himself apart over the idea of it for months. It was one kiss, but what if he fucked it up?

How was he supposed to be calm about this?

Swiss was the furthest thing from calm, he'd say he was outright panicking, and if anyone could see the speed at which his thoughts raced they'd agree. On the outside at least he appeared collected, aside from the fact he kept wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. He could blame that on the heat of the greenhouse.

All he could smell was herbs and flowers, and part of him was grateful. It was a distraction at least. If he'd been able to catch Mountain’s scent, he'd be done for. What little composure he had would have failed him entirely almost immediately. He could feel it already faltering but he kept the foolish hope that it might last until he could think of an excuse to smoothly leave the situation.

And the situation?

It was torture, that's what it was. Just the two of them in the narrow rows of plants, mingling with the fauna as they squeezed past each other. If Swiss had to feel Mountain's hand sliding against his waist again he might just bury his head into the nearest bag of topsoil.

Every touch and glance had Swiss fumbling over himself. Mountain nearly sent his poor heart beating out of his chest and it was disgustingly effortless on his part.

He bit his lower lip when Mountain set his watering can down, watching the way he folded his sleeves up with a fascination that could only be described as obsessive. His fingers moved so smoothly, the muscle under the skin flexing slowly with each movement. Swiss could feel his mouth run dry, his typically clever tongue sitting twisted up in his mouth.

"Swiss-"

The multi ghoul stared at the movement of his lips. His top fangs were crooked, how had he never noticed that before? He could feel his heart stutter for the hundredth time. Mountain's lips were plush with the faintest scar at the corner of his mouth, Swiss couldn't quite remember how he got it.

"Hey?"

And then there were those dimples, soft divots in his cheeks to accompany his lopsided grin.

"Swiss!"

He jumped, nearly out of his own skin, and dropped his own watering can. It spilled over the hem of his pants and his shoes. Great.

"Dude are you okay? You've been watering that basil plant for five minutes."

"...huh?" Swiss blinked and glanced at the poor plant that had fallen victim to his distraction. There was water spilling down the sides of its terracotta pot and pooling around the base. He felt his face grow warm and swallowed. "Fuck, sorry."

"What's got you so in your own head today?"

"You."

Mountain blinked and wiped his hands on his apron. The damn movement of his hands again. He took a step towards him and Swiss felt his stomach flip. He grabbed for the watering can and retreated for the hose on the far side of the small building. It wasn't much distance but it was distance.

The word was supposed to stay inside his head, silent admission and nothing more but it escaped despite himself. He debated hitting his head against the wall.

"Me?" Mountain asked, almost amused.

The wall was becoming more tempting.

"Yes! You!" Swiss groaned and dropped the hose. "It's always you, you're always in my head! You never leave!"

"Did I do something?"

"Yes! No? I don't know!" He dragged his hands down his face. "You're just, you're you."

"I'm…sorry?"

"You're you and you're perfect and it's driving me insane. I want to be around you because when I'm not my chest aches but it gets so tight when you're around I forget how to breathe. I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it. About you. About any of this shit!"

Mountain shifted and settled his hands on his hips, watching Swiss start to get more and more fidgety. He felt like he was about to vibrate right out of his skin at this rate. The thoughts had started, he'd let a little trickle out and the rest broke through like a fucking flood. He couldn't make himself shut up if he tried.

The look on Mountain's face was hard to pin down, anywhere from bewildered to bemused.

"You don't know what to do, okay…So, what do you want to do?"

"Kiss you."

Swiss wanted to rip the tongue right from his mouth when Mountain blushed. He tipped his head slightly, ear twitching a bit.

"What's stopping you?"

"I, well, um," he stammered. Swiss couldn't remember the last time he fucking stammered. "Because I know I won't get it right."

Mountain chuckled, a low rumble that felt like it rattled Swiss' brain.

"What?! It's not funny, asshole."

"It's a little funny, Swiss."

Swiss was torn between throttling Mountain or himself. Especially when Mountain moved closer to him. He couldn't back up any further when he stepped back into the table littered with tools.

"What's there to get right?"

"Everything."

Mountain was so much taller than him, he nearly forgot that fact. Being caged between the earth ghoul and the bench was the definition of being trapped between a rock and a hard place.

"I don't know about that, 's easy rosebud."

The taller ghoul graced his cheek with the tips of his fingers, rough in texture but gentle in touch. Swiss opened his mouth but nothing came out and Mountain breathed a laugh close to his parted lips. He could taste pomegranate on his exhale and had to grab the edge of the table behind him to steady himself before Mountain closed that space. He didn't trust his knees, for good reason.

His lips were chapped but moved smoothly against his own. Swiss' eyes fluttered. Better than he expected. He was sweet, he was soft, he was all encompassing and Swiss reached for a fistful of his shirt. Like this, Mountain clouded his senses. He could smell pine and honey, and the hint of whatever new laundry detergent they'd switched to.

It was a feeling he could live in. One that he'd gladly sink into and never resurface from.

Swiss had kissed others before. Every other ghoul in their pack, at least twice, and he'd never felt a lick of hesitation but kissing Mountain felt different. Like everything stopped and it was just them and that greenhouse. The rest of the world was irrelevant. Mountain kissed him like it was second nature, like it was the easiest thing he'd done in his life. As if this wasn't something Swiss had been agonizing over for weeks.

But Mountain pulled back and Swiss nearly fell over himself trying to chase the feeling.

"See? Not such a big deal."

#writing #mushy may #void writing #ficlet #the band ghost #the band ghost ficlet #the band ghost fic #ghost the band #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #multi ghoul #mountain/swiss

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day Ten: Mutual Pining/Staring in Adoration

Paring: Mountain/Swiss

Words: 750

Rating: Gen

Contains: Swiss being Swiss on stage, Mountain being down bad

Mushy May prompts arranged by @forlorn-crows

There’s a gif that inspired this of Prequelle Era!Swiss getting on his knees that I unfortunately could not find again but it’s been burned into my brain.

EDIT: I found the clip!!! (and immediately saved it to my phone bc i cannot lose it again lmao)

***

The new multi-ghoul is, as politely as Mountain can put it, a problem, and he’s only been Up Top for a few months. In the abbey, he’s made himself quite a reputation as a shameless flirt. Siblings and ghouls alike can’t take their eyes off of him, and Mountain is no exception. On stage, they’ve put him right next to Mountain’s drum kit, and it’s a problem.

Mountain’s not blind. The new multi-ghoul, Swiss, is as attractive as they come, and they’ve put him on backing vocals for a reason. He gets along with the new band pack well, barring the bloody fights he and Dew pick with each other. It’s incredibly easy to get him to smile or laugh, and it lights up whatever room he’s in. At first glance, he doesn’t seem like he’s going to be a problem.

However, it’s a problem when Mountain can’t take his eyes off of him during Rituals. He’s grateful that he’s rehearsed every song on the setlist forwards and back until he can play them in his sleep, that he doesn’t need to be looking at his kit when they perform, because Unholy Father, he cannot drag his eyes away from Swiss. 

The way he moves is sin, and Mountain watches out of the corner of his eye as he sways his lithe hips to the music. It’s obscene, the way he ruts against his guitar or his mic stand, the chrome of his mask flashing in the multicolored lights. 

He catches Mountain watching, sometimes. He says nothing, not willing to risk the mics catching whatever comment he might make. His eyes, glamoured a warm brown instead of their usual gold, flash with an expression Mountain might be able to make out if their masks weren’t on. Mountain lowers his gaze to the snare right in front of him until he can feel the weight of Swiss’s gaze leave the side of his head. 

Mountain’s here, Top Side, on stage, to do one thing, and to do it well. He was summoned to help Papa, or, well, in this case, the Cardinale, put on a good show. He’s not here to ogle attractive ghouls. 

He’s focusing on his drum kit when he feels Swiss’s gaze return, stronger than normal. Mountain spares a glance out of the corner of his eye and the steady rhythm of the kick drum falters for a moment as he does a double take. 

Swiss is turned away from the captive audience, his whole body turned towards him, guitar and tambourine placed on their stands. He sinks down to his knees, a singular, smooth movement, leaning back onto his feet before rocking towards Mountain. 

Every thought Mountain has leaves, vaporized, and there’s a spike of want deep in his gut. He shakes his head, hard, turning back to the crowd. Finish the damn ritual, he thinks, willing himself not to turn to his right for the rest of the evening. 

They take their final bows not twenty minutes later, and after throwing their picks and drumsticks into the roaring crowd, they slink backstage. 

As they walk back to the green room, Mountain grabs Swiss by the upper arm, directing the ghoul into a quiet alcove. Swiss goes without a fight, but with a questioning look in his eye. 

“What the hell was that about out there?” He hisses, pressing Swiss into the wall by the shoulders. “What do you want from me, edelweiss?”

The multi-ghoul grins up at Mountain, flashing blunt, human teeth. “You finally notice? I’ve been trying to get your attention for weeks.”

Mountain swallows hard, glancing up and down at Swiss’s face. His grin hasn’t faltered, but it’s not quite as smug, more delighted than anything. “You’re not pulling one on me?” Mountain asks. 

Swiss shakes his head, reaching up and taking Mountain’s face by the mask. “Can I show you what I want from you, maple?” he asks, voice surprisingly soft. 

Mountain nods, relaxing the tight grip he’s had on Swiss’s shoulders. Swiss hums, guiding Mountain’s face down to his. Their masks clink together as Swiss brings their lips together. It tastes of grease paint and the fruity vape Swiss sneaks hits from on stage. It tastes divine, and Mountain wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Funny, that’s exactly what I wanted from you,” Mountain says as they pull away. 

“Well,” Swiss says, “Tonight’s a hotel night. You wanna spend the night with me?”

Mountain laughs. “Of course, edelweiss. I’d like nothing more.”

#mushy may #swiss/mountain #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #my writing #i was up so late writing this lmao im gonna take a nap before work

[nocturnalghoul]

Mushy May Day 23: Falling asleep/ watching the other sleep

Rain comes to Swiss after getting high with Mountain. He promises not to fall asleep while they hang out but alas. Some super fluffy Rulti because I love them. Those two are incredibly goofy with one another and you cannot change my mind!

I need it to be known that an outline for this has been sitting in my ideas folder since like early March and I was super excited for an excuse to finally make myself turn it into something. This is also another one that I hope to revisit and bulk out later. Snippet of song at the end is from One & Only by Fortunate Youth. Once again the Rain Chill Vibes playlist is one that you can rip from my cold dead hands.

Words: 669

Rating: Gen/ Everyone

Read below the cut or on AO3 here

Swiss takes in the very high ghoul in front of him, already clambering to snuggle up next to him on his bed. He had been reading a book, but knows that the time for that is now apparently over and quickly marks his place before closing it.

“Now, I can’t help but notice you didn't even share, Raincloud” he teases, already shifting so that Rain can situate himself more comfortably. 

“Mmmm, wasn’t mine to share, babe. You’d have ta bother Mounty ‘bout that.” Rain mumbles as he crawls into Swiss’ lap, accidentally knocking the book out of his hand as he goes. “So whatta you up to?”

“Well I was gonna try to get some reading done, but then a ravishing water ghoul appeared. I guess it’s best that I stop that silly plan and talk to him instead, huh?” 

“Hmmm, wise plan. This water fella’ sounds super handsome, I would hate for him to have to go talk to somebody else.” 

Rain shoots him a playful look, his smile a little overly wide before breaking out into a fit of giggles. Swiss leans over to give him a quick peck on the nose before turning to grab his phone from the nightstand beside him. 

“The playlist I had going was one of the ones you made for me but it’s kinda slow and chill. Let me change it to something a little less sleepy.” Swiss explains, following the small discontent huff Rain had let out at all the wiggling he was doing. 

“No it’s fine, I was enjoying it. Leave it on?” Rain asks gently. Swiss shoots him a quick knowing look. Both of them are well aware of how sleepy Rain gets when he is high in general, and clearly the multi ghoul does not believe for a second that Rain won’t immediately nod off with the music still playing. 

“‘M not gonna fall asleep” Rain lazily asserts, but only gets a singular raised eyebrow in response. 

“Swisstopher K Ghoul, do you doubt my word? Here, I pinky promise!” Rain challenges in fake outrage, face scrunching up in an adorable way that Swiss can't resist. He holds up his pinky and wiggles it at Swiss to prove he means it. 

Swiss hooks their pinkies together then pulls Rain's hand up towards his face. “This sounds serious, I better seal that promise with a kiss” he remarks before kissing both their entwined fingers and the back of Rain’s hand. Rain pouts up at him after taking his hand back, so Swiss gives him one more in between his horns. 

A grand total of 10 minutes passes before Rain’s responses to what Swiss is saying stop making sense as he predictably starts to fall asleep. Swiss knows that if he were to challenge the water ghoul on this, he would blame it on how nicely Swiss is playing with his hair, the comfort of his bed, and his own excellent taste in pleasant music. 

Eventually Rain stops responding completely, letting out a barely audible noise that is either a snore or a gentle purr, Swiss can’t tell. Either way, he continues to play with Rain’s hair as he looks down fondly at him sleeping. 

The water ghoul is smiling even in his sleep, and Swiss is completely entranced by him. He listens to Rain’s soft noises and the music playing from the speaker across the room. 

You know when I sleep at night/ With you, right by my side I'm fine/ Hoping to be forever/ You and Me

The sentiment expressed in the music could not more perfectly encompass the current moment. Swiss thinks he may just have to finally admit that there is something nice about the hypnotically chill playlists Rain makes, even if it’ll inflate the ghouls ego. 

“I’m so happy I get to call you mine, Rainbow” he whispers against the water ghouls hair. Rain snuggles closer in his sleep at the words and for Swiss that's more than enough confirmation that the feeling is mutual.

#mushy may #nocturnal mushy may #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain x swiss #Rulti my beloveds #nocturnal writings

[hypnoneghoul]

Mushy May Day 15. Standing up for them - Dew/Everyone

WC: 1065

Copia makes a mistake by yelling at Dewdrop.

Notes: Sorry I made Copia an asshole, needed to for this one, I am (typically) team Copia loves his ghouls. It also doesn’t match the prompt that well, but it was actually a neglected wip and I wanted to make it work with today’s prompt.

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Today’s practice was going totally and absolutely awful.

At first only for Dewdrop, but his sour, upset scent started affecting everyone, as well as that new fucking Cardinal and all his speeches and reprimands.

Dewdrop, who had a serious fucking issue to deal with, having undergone a whole elemental change barely two weeks prior, could barely stand or think, so very far from recovering. 

Yet the Cardinal didn’t care.

There was no doubt about his stand, that being he was an ignorant asshole, as he conducted the elemental changing ritual on Dewdrop himself and was well aware of his both mental and physical fragile, at best, state.

“Ghoul, did you practise even a minute in the last weeks?” the Cardinal hissed, just as Dewdrop’s fingers fumbled over the frets in one of the newer song’s solo, again. It was, approximately, the third time he yelled at the poor ghoul in the span of the last fifteen minutes, and Dew was on the verge of breaking down. ”Do you seriously care so little about the upcoming tour and-”

“Shut your fucking mouth already!” Aether growled, or more like screamed growling, and the whole room went quiet, filled with a buzz of the amps only.

“Ghoul, how dare you speak to me-” the Cardinal said after getting over his total shock at Aether’s outburst. Not only the human was shocked, all the ghouls were, Dewdrop the most.

Aether never got angry.

Aether never yelled.

“First of all, I have a name, you know,” the quintessence ghoul announced, putting his guitar down and slowly approaching the Cardinal. “We all do, actually, and the least you could do is fucking learn them.”

The Cardinal was now terrified, realising that an actual Hell Beast, a demon, was mad at him. While it would spur on any other ghoul, Aether didn’t care about the human’s fear, he wanted him to understand.

“Second of all, Dewdrop here,” Aether motioned his head in Dew’s general direction, not breaking eye contact with the Cardinal, “was fucking destroyed by you, your stupid idea, because for some reason you thought that a water ghoul just couldn’t play lead. You have zero idea what you did, stupid human.”

The quintessence ghoul was now towering over the Cardinal, his barred fangs just mere inches before his face. He could rip his throat out in a moment, and everyone present knew that perfectly well. The rest of the ghouls abandoned their instruments, ready to aid their packmate should it be needed.

“You better not expect me, or Dewdrop to do fucking anything for you, you filthy rat,” Aether hissed having his hands clasped behind his back, barely containing himself from actually killing the man. “And when you realise we are not your tools, your toys, then maybe, just maybe, we can cooperate someday. For now, don’t you fucking dare even look in Dewdrop’s direction again, or you won’t look at anything else ever again, as I will claw out your disgusting eyes.”

Aether straightened then, the Cardinal shaking, frozen in place. The Quintessence ghoul turned on his heel, getting back to Dew. He stood mouth agape and eyes wide at this display of Aether’s protectiveness over him, his love for him, holding back tears. He took the bigger ghoul’s outstretched hand and let himself be guided out of the rehearsal room.

The Cardinal partially regained his composure after a few minutes, the rest of the ghouls still not moving from their spots, “I- I think the rest of us should-”

“Fuck, you’re such an idiot,” Swiss laughed, getting down from his platform, predatory spark in his eyes and all his shiny fangs on full display. “You’re gonna get yourself killed, if not by Aeth, then me.”

Swiss shook his head at the human’s stupidity and walked up to Rain, grabbing his hand to get to the door. 

“Be careful around the water, now,” the water ghoul leaned down to whisper into the Cardinal’s ear as they walked past him. “You never know who commands it.”

And then both Swiss and Rain were gone, the Cardinal’s heart beating so loud he barely heard the threat. He was still stuck in place when the two air ghoulettes moved from behind the keyboards, walking down the stairs in his direction.

“You don’t even realise how easy it would be for you to suffocate in your sleep, do you?” Cirrus growled, head tilted to the side, sparks of rage in her yellow eyes.

“Would be a terrible shame,” Cumulus sighed, gifting the Cardinal with the sweetest smile.

And then they were gone too.

The Cardinal let out a breath he didn’t really realise he was holding, forgetting about one of the ghouls lingering in the shadows of the practice stage. He turned his back to it, frantically wiping his face with his hand, as if it could wake him up from this dream-like event.

He didn’t notice the earth ghoul creeping up behind him until a massive hand on his throat turned him back around.

Mountain lifted the Cardinal up, just enough that he barely kept his toes on the ground, and he still had 20 inches on the human, partially letting go of his glamour.

“You choose your next steps very wisely now, Cardinal,” the earth ghoul hissed, eyes glowing bright green. “Don’t think about running with it to Imperator. She cannot send us back to Hell all at once and believe me, I will not hesitate to turn the whole Abbey to sand if either you or anyone else even thinks about doing something to hurt any of my pack. You live on credit after what you did to Dewdrop, and the next mistake will be your last.”

Mountain squeezed the Cardinal’s throat just enough for him to lose consciousness for a moment, and dropped him to the floor, himself leaving the room.

He made his way to the common room, coming across an already formed cuddle pile, Dew being squeezed between Aether and Rain in the middle. Mountain knelt before the small ghoul overwhelmed with the love his pack had for him, and cupped his cheek with one of his hands, “You’re safe, Dewdrop.”

“We won’t let anyone hurt you anymore, you know,” Rain whispered into his ear, the little ghoul chirping happily.

“I know,” he sighed. “Thank you. For standing up for me and protecting me.”

“Always,” six ghouls replied.

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #mushy may #fluff #fanfiction #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #aether ghoul #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette

[forlorn-crows]

Ghost Mushy May Prompts

the mushy may prompt calendar/list is here! feel free to participate as much or as little as you like; there are 2 prompts to choose from each day, and many are easily combined. happy creating!

(accessible list under the cut)

Ghost Mushy May 2023

Day at the beach/lake; Bathtime

Crush; "I made this for you"

"Dance with me?"; Pre-/Post-show rituals

First kiss; Love at first sight

Grooming/Personal care; Hair braiding

Picnic; Snow day

Dinner & a movie; Compliments

First time; Sick fic

Massage; Aftercare

Mutual pining; Staring in adoration

First "I love you"; Unspoken "I love you"s

Lazy mornings; Sharing a bed

Comfort after a nightmare; Thunderstorms

Love languages; Sex turning into making love

Standing up for them; Displays of affection

Weird/Silly shared habits; "No one understands me like you do"

Domestic activities (ex: cooking); Flowers

Holidays (ex: Halloween); Tickle fight

Ghoul pile; Found family

Stargazing; Bonfire

Ditching chores/sneaking kisses; Body worship

Teaching a skill; Helping during band practice

Falling asleep; Watching the other sleep

Tour de-stress; Karaoke

Adopting a stray animal; Killing spiders

Breakfast in bed; Preparing the other's drink for them

Reading together; Game night

Sharing clothes; Showering together

Getting high; Wine-drunk affection

Love letters; Serenading

Reuniting; "Just because" gifts

special thanks to @askingforthesun @miasmaghoul @iamthecomet @kroas-adtam @ghouletteanon @nocturnalghoul @spoiledleaff @gayrickgrimes @comp-lady @coffeesforcatchers and others for submitting prompts!

#mushy may #fanfiction prompts #the band ghost #fanfic

[miasmaghoul]

Mushy May - Day 4

Prompt: First Kiss

Rating: Teen Pairing: Aether/Rain Contains: hurt/comfort, anxiety, a panic attack, first-time glamouring, Rain having a Bad Time and Aether making it better Word Count: ~3k (lmao what am I doing)

Summary: Rain feels like he's drowning. Aether helps him surface.

“It’s a lot to get used to,” Dew had told him a week ago, holding out a pile of black fabric, “you gotta practice while you can.”

He’d offered to help. To teach Rain how to breathe properly with his gills glamoured, how to cope with the added restriction of their stage costumes. Rain, prideful thing that he is, had refused. Of course he had. Had shrugged off Dew’s words and waved away the offer of help. He was certain he could manage on his own - he hardly planned on using his full glamour anyway, so what was the point in practicing? Besides, if Dew could do it then so could he. Dewdrop had given him a withering look, followed by a scoff.

“Whatever, wet boy. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Rain had dismissed him with an exaggerated eye roll, returning to the very important task of filing his claws, and had promptly forgotten about the whole affair.

Until now. 

Because now, huddled in a damp corner of their venue’s shower room, Rain finds himself thinking the unthinkable: 

I should have listened to Dewdrop.

Everything feels too close, too tight. This form, this woefully human shape he’s been forced to take, brings with it an unexpected, crushing pressure. The uniform doesn’t help - it’s all skin tight, the fabric scratching at every inch of him. He feels flayed open, pink and raw; it’s visceral and wholly unsettling, but the vanishing of his gills is far and away the worst part. 

Rain paws at his own chest, tugging the knot of his tie in an effort to relieve some of the pressure. His mask and balaclava sit across the room, tossed away the moment he’d managed to get his shaky fingers to cooperate. It’s only been a few minutes since he stumbled his way in here, drawn by the presence of water and the oddly comforting scent of mildew, but Rain feels like he’s been suffering for years.

He can’t stop trembling, clutching his knees to his chest and fighting the razors in his throat. Clawing with his stupid, blunt, human nails at the places his gills should be - the sides of his neck, the ridges of his ribs. Trying to force them open again through his shirt, to rip away the binding magic trapping him in this sorry state. Gasping. Choking. Suffocating.

Satanas, he’s fucking drowning.

He’s drowning and it’s his own damn fault.

It shouldn’t be this bad. Nothing should be this bad. But from the moment Copia had said that incantation, had bound all of the ghouls to these horribly restrictive forms for the night, Rain hasn’t been able to catch his breath. Dew’s words swim though his head in a vague whisper of regret, one that Rain tries in vain to shake off. It only makes him dizzier.

There’s a call from somewhere outside the attached dressing room - twenty minutes til soundcheck - and it does nothing to help the tightness in Rain’s chest. His lungs ache, his throat burns, and his heart feels like it’s about to crash right through his ribcage. The edges of his vision are darkening already, and he can’t tell if it’s from the hot tears gathered in his lashes or a lack of air. Maybe both.

He’s going to die here. He knows he is. Tucked into a tight ball in some dingy shower, alone and terrified, on the night of his first ritual. The others will find nothing but a pile of damp clothes and the stink of sulfur, their water ghoul having discorporated and vanished back to the Pit. There’s no way around it. 

Rain hugs his knees and whimpers, feeling the knife between his ribs dig in deeper. He’s panting now - shallow, desperate hiccups of air. They’re all he can manage as the walls close in on him. The crushing weight of his own foolishness slams against his skull - he swears he can hear it, a hollow echo. Like distant footsteps on cold stone. Rain’s eyes slip shut, the tears begin to fall, and all he can do is wait for his lungs to give out.

“Rain?”

He jolts at the voice - a distant, low rumble that he doesn’t recognize. Do ghouls have a grim reaper? A being sent to collect their infernal essence and return it home? Is that who’s calling his name? Rain doesn’t know, and he doesn’t answer. He can’t. His voice went with his ability to breathe.

“Rain, where are you?”

It’s like he’s underwater. The voice is so foreign, lilting and accented in a way he can’t place. But it’s…soothing, somehow. Familiar, like a comfortable piece of clothing. He wants to lift his head but finds it immovable. Filled with cement. Those echoing footsteps in his head grow louder with each passing moment, and as his consciousness fades Rain swears he feels himself being lifted.

The next thing he feels is…warmth. It’s so warm. He’s so warm.

“Rain?” A warbling echo at the edge of his mind. “Can you hear me?”

There’s a weight on his chest, but it’s…different than it was before he felt the world slip away. Steady pressure, gentle, running the length of his sternum. It’s wonderfully grounding, puts him so at ease that he nearly forgets why he was so -

Rain’s eyes fly open and he sucks in air like a man starved, great gulps of the stuff that make his throat ache all over again. He thrashes, arches against the pressure on his chest and finds it doesn’t give. Rather, it holds him steady, keeps him pinned to - is he on a couch?

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” It’s that voice again, the one he somehow both did and didn’t know. “You’re okay Rain, I’ve got you.”

Whoever it is, he finds it easy to believe them. Rain blinks as he catches his breath, clears the wet haze from his eyes. He doesn’t know what he expects to see, but it certainly isn’t a water-stained ceiling. At length he manages to turn his still-heavy head to the side. When he does, he’s met with a silver mask...and a pair of familiar lavender eyes. 

“Ae…Aether?” The name comes out raspy and worn, like Rain had been screaming. The other ghoul nods, and Rain realizes that the pressure on his chest is Aether’s hand. His shirt is unbuttoned, and that large, callused palm feels heavenly against his clammy skin. “What…how…”

“The Cardinal sent me to get you for soundcheck,” he explains, eyes scanning Rain’s face. The accent is fascinating, but now that Rain knows who he’s hearing he can pick out the familiar timbre of Aether’s usual voice. “Found you in the bathroom, pale as anything.”

“Couldn’t breathe,” Rain manages after a few moments, clearing his throat with a wince. “Couldn’t…without my gills, I -”

“I figured as much,” Aether murmurs. Rain gives the other ghoul a quizzical look, and Aether cracks the tiniest smile. “This happened to Dew too, the first time. Didn’t he tell you?” Rain stares at him, wide-eyed.

“What did?”

“The panic,” Aether says gently. “You had a panic attack, Rain.”

Rain blinks at him. 

A…a panic attack? No, that wasn’t right. That couldn’t be right.

“No,” he murmurs, brow furrowed. “No it - it was the binding spell. It…it took my gills and I-”

“It did, yes,” Aether confirms, canting his head. “But you’re breathing fine without them now, aren’t you?” 

Rain blinks again, finally taking full stock of himself. Of the rise and fall of his ribcage and the now-steady thud of his heart, and finds that he can’t argue. His chest still aches, but it feels more like muscle strain and less like breathlessness. It feels like the almost pleasant burn that follows his lengthy swims in the abbey’s lake, or one of his more energetic romps with Swiss. Rain brings a hand to his throat, just to be sure, and Aether laughs through his nose.

“See?” Aether pats his chest, a reassuring gesture. “Just fine without them.”

Silence blankets them, and it gives Rain time to think. He hasn’t spent a whole lot of time with the ghoul before him in the months since his summoning. Not for lack of wanting - he likes Aether, (very much, if he were to be honest), but with the hectic nature of pre-tour life there hadn’t been much of a chance to…connect. A few shared meals, a handful of fleeting touches in the common room - ones he revisited in the comfort of his own bed - and one very close call on the tour bus were all Rain had to show for his interest.  

So yes, he does like Aether. More importantly, though, he trusts Aether. The other ghoul had earned it with his calm demeanor, the way he carries himself, the way he treats others. They all rely on him, even the Cardinal. That’s probably why he’d been sent to fetch Rain in the first place - Copia knew he would actually do it, not just sneak off in an effort to shirk their duties. If it were any other ghoul, Rain would simply wave off the idea of what he’d just experienced being something as paltry, as…human, as a panic attack.  

But it isn’t another ghoul. It’s Aether. Aether, with his kind eyes and soft smile. Aether, with his broad body and gentle nature. Aether, who is currently rubbing slow circles into his warming skin. Rain realizes in a delayed sort of way that the ghoul’s other hand is in his hair, scratching lightly at the place where his horns should be. He wants to purr with it, but it comes out as a deep hum instead. Aether chuckles.

“I’ll take that as a sign that you’re feeling better,” he murmurs, and Rain can’t deny that he’s right. He rests a hand on top of the one on his chest and gives Aether a shy nod.

“Yeah,” he huffs, voice still strained, “some.”

“Good. Do you think you can sit up?” 

Rain isn’t sure he wants to. Aether’s hands feel so nice, his presence so calming, and Rain doesn’t want to lose either one. Voices in the hall bring him back a bit, though; right, he has a job to do here. He heaves out a harsh exhale and nods, giving Aether’s hand a squeeze. The other ghoul sits back on his heels and Rain sighs at the loss of his touch. He braces himself and forces his body upright, grunting with the effort of swinging his legs over the edge of the couch.

The pain hits him all at once. 

“Oh, my fucking head,” he groans, hunching and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Shit.”

“Headache? Dew had a nasty one too.” Those large hands grip his wrists and give a coaxing tug. “You’re only going to make it worse doing that,” Aether chides. “Here, let me help.”

Rain isn’t sure how he can, given the fact that he’s pretty sure there’s an ice pick lodged in his brain, but he obliges. Allows Aether to bring his hands down and rest them on his own thighs. The other ghoul nudges his shoulder and Rain reluctantly raises his head, finding Aether knelt between his splayed legs. The sight sends a swoop of something entirely inappropriate through his belly, and Rain tries his best to ignore it. It’s hard to do when Aether cups his face with both hands, rough thumbs dragging over his cheekbones. The other ghoul gives him a smile and Rain swallows hard.

“Try to relax, alright? This might feel a bit…odd.”

Rain blinks owlishly, opens his mouth to speak, but the words die on his tongue as a wave of hot pressure fills his sinuses. It travels up behind his eyes, fills his ears and skull, wraps around his brainstem and trickles down his spinal cord. It only lasts a few seconds, and as the sensation fades Rain finds every bit of pain and lingering discomfort fading right along with it. He feels lighter than air, dizzy in a way that plasters a dazed look on his face. 

“There we are,” Aether coos, pulling his hands back. “How’s that? Better?”

“What was that?” Rain hardly recognizes the syrupy sound of his own slurred voice. Aether lets out a soft snort, resting his palms on Rain’s bony knees.

“Just a little something to take the edge off,” he says with a wiggle of his fingers. Rain finds himself entranced by the way Aether’s rings glint in the low light of the room. “I can’t do much beyond pain relief in this sorry state,” Aether gestures at his own glamoured body, “but that should at least be enough to get you through the ritual.”

Rain offers a slow nod, but he isn’t really focused on the words. His - well, everything, really, has gone fuzzy. Pleasantly warm and tingly, like he’d been wrapped in an electric blanket. He feels…safe, he thinks is the word for it. Anchored in a way he certainly wasn’t before Aether had rescued him from his breathless spiral. That seems like a distant memory now, a blip on the radar. All he can feel is a delightful buzz in the back of his head and the grounding weight of Aether’s hands on his knees.

“Rain? Are you still with me?” The ghoul blinks, refocusing on the masked face before him. He nods again, gaze bouncing between those stunning lavender eyes and plush lips. 

Those lips…

“Yeah,” he breathes, gripping his own thighs, “yeah, I…I’m…” 

He probably shouldn’t be staring at that unbearably pretty mouth. Shouldn’t be imagining how Aether’s chapped lips would feel on his. What he should do is say thank you. Tell Aether how appreciative he is of his help, of his care. He should say it and offer a handshake, or maybe a hug. Something small, but still affectionate. Something he won’t regret once the fuzziness in his brain fades. 

He doesn’t mean to lean in. Not really. He shouldn’t, no matter how much he wants to. No matter how much he’s wanted to for the past few months. 

But, well, he is leaning in. He’s leaning in and Aether isn’t pulling back. In fact, Rain’s pretty sure he’s tilting his head. Making space. Angling himself so his mask isn’t in the way and oh fuck he’s really going to do this.

When they kiss, Rain’s mind goes quiet.

It isn’t long. Isn’t deep or wet or messy. What it is, is wonderfully simple - a humble, chaste meeting of the lips. Short and sweet and somehow completely, utterly perfect. Rain pulls back just enough to let Aether see the enormous grin he can feel splitting his face, and to his delight the other ghoul returns it.

“I was wondering when we’d get around to that,” Aether says with amusement, squeezing Rain’s knees. Rain huffs out a laugh.

“Me too,” he admits, “maybe not quite like that, but I’m not going to complain.” 

“Neither am I.” Aether’s smile is devastating, wide and bright. “But as much as I’d like to carry on, I’m afraid we’ve got a job to do.”

Rain sighs, nodding - he’s held them all up long enough. He busies himself buttoning his shirt and tries not to mourn the loss of Aether’s hands when the other ghoul wanders over to one of the vanities on the far wall. He doesn’t have to mourn for long, though. Only for the time it takes for Aether to fetch his discarded tie, mask and balaclava. Rain eyes them with more than a little trepidation, his stomach giving a weak flip. His discomfort must be obvious - Aether lays a hand on his shoulder and holds him steady.

“It’s alright,” he promises, sitting at Rain’s side. “Let me help.”

Aether is so very gentle with him. So much so that it makes Rain blush. He talks through everything he does - knotting Rain’s tie, sliding on his balaclava, tucking back his hair. Aether checks in on him with every step, and Rain doesn’t think he has enough words for how grateful he feels. There’s still an edge of unease settling in his chest, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. 

Aether tells him about how things went with Dew the first time he’d had his gills glamoured. Tells Rain that he needs to have a talk with their newly minted fire ghoul about ways to cope so the panic doesn’t rear its ugly head again. Rain promises he will - his own pride isn’t worth the black hole in his chest.

“There we are,” Aether remarks with one final tuck of a particularly stubborn curl, “well done.” Rain could chirp at the praise, and at the way Aether’s hand lingers on his cheek. “Last step,” he adds after a moment, “and I think you should do this one.”

Aether holds up his mask, and Rain tries not to cringe at the very obvious scuff across its right cheek. From where he’d tossed it on the ground, he imagines. Hopefully it’ll buff out. He accepts the offering with a small nod and raises the mask to his face, stretching the straps to slip it over his head.

“Oh, hang on,” Aether says suddenly, and Rain looks over at him just in time to watch the other ghoul slide his own mask up with a thumb. “One more thing.”

Aether leans in and kisses him for real this time - lush and full, unyielding. Rain drops his mask in favor of grabbing hold of Aether’s square jaw, luxuriating in the feel of the other ghoul’s lips on his. It’s over far too soon, but the glimmer in Aether’s eye when he pulls away is full of promise. 

“For good luck,” he lilts, and Rain goes warm all over. Aether fixes his mask, Rain slips on his own, and together they stand. Aether gives Rain’s tie one final adjustment before nodding, giving his chest a pleased pat. “Now let’s get going before they send in the cavalry.” Rain nods, fiddling with the end of his tie.

“Thank you,” he says softly, the words long overdue. “For everything.” Aether hums and takes hold of Rain’s hand, thumbing over his knuckles.

“My pleasure,” he croons, and Rain would do anything to kiss him again. But for now, that will have to wait.

For now, the feel of Aether’s hand around his own is enough. 

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #mushy may #rain ghoul #aether ghoul #aether/rain #aether x rain #this is just a full fic at this point #panic attack tw

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 The Papas and Copia and how they react to your compliments. 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 Compliments 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩(𝐬) Cardinal Copia x GN!Reader, the paragraphs for the other Papas can also be interpreted as Papa x GN!Reader 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 No smut but mentions of sex in Copia's section so 18+ only, MINORS DNI 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 588 words. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 My body is too warm and it's making sitting in front of my laptop uncomfortable so I'm using today to take a break from writing Mary fics. I've v briefly proofread this to make sure I don't use gendered pronouns or terms for reader but if I've missed any lmk! 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 𝐓𝐢𝐩 𝐉𝐚𝐫

When Primo receives a compliment from you, it’s usually waved away dismissively as he mumbles something along the lines of ‘you waste these words on an old man like me instead of one who would appreciate them more’. It doesn’t stop you giving them to him though, now written on a note attached to a new plant or flower you’ve bought for him to plant in the gardens so he can’t brush them off. He always finds you afterwards, lightly chastising you for being far too kind and generous to a man of his age. Every time, without fail, you press a kiss to his cheek and tell him to stop being silly. It makes him smile fondly.

Secondo pretends not to be affected by the compliments you give him. You tell him he doesn’t need to put on such an act around you, and yet he does it anyway. He grunts, muttering about how you’re exaggerating and trying to be modest. Your compliments are always accompanied with a pot of tea served with his favourite cups and saucers and a plate of amaretti biscuits that you’ve freshly baked that morning. Sure, he grumbles about being distracted from his duties whenever you enter with a tray laden with biscuits and beverages, but he makes sure to thank you before you leave every single time, lips pressed to your forehead in gratitude as he promises to thank you properly later.

Compliments between you and Terzo become a competition. You’ll engage in compliment combat each time you cross one another in the corridors, lashing one another with kind words and affection until one of you smiles or laughs first. It used to startle the siblings of sin when they passed you both in the corridor during these times but now it’s such a common occurrence that they merely shake their heads and chuckle before continuing on with whatever they were doing prior to encountering you both. Terzo has won more of these compliment battles than you have and you’re okay with that. Just getting to see him smile and bask in the affection you offer him brings you an endless amount of joy.

At first, Copia didn’t deal with compliments too well. Each time you complimented his outfit or his moustache or even something his office space he’d bristle, assuming you were making fun of him like your fellow cardinals used to before he became the frontman for Ghost. It took months of building up trust and friendship for him to realise that you were being genuine and honest, showering him with affectionate words and reassuring smiles. Lingering eye contact and the touch of an arm that lasted longer than perhaps was appropriate between the two of you became more and more frequent.

Eventually, the kind words and compliments you exchanged resulted in him bedding you. Featherlight touches exchanged between two cardinals pining after one another became caresses and kisses in places that had you arching your back, aching for him. Whispers and giggles became moans and whimpers as you explored one another’s bodies in the dead of night, sneaking around the cardinals’ quarters and other places in the abbey after curfew. Shared books passed to one another innocently in the library became an excuse to meet up there after hours and desecrate the librarian’s desk with your head between his thighs and vice versa. What had started out as acts of kindness turned into a relationship and sexual encounters that were etched into your memory long after they’d happened.  

#a little spicy #mushy may #primo #papa emeritus i #secondo #papa emeritus ii #terzo #papa emeritus iii #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x gn!reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv x gn!reader #the band ghost #fanfic #my fanfic #mine

[denimpera]

mushy may day 7+10 [compliments, staring in adoration]

a/n: beta'd by @/ghouljett, baby's first ghost fic

relationship: nothing outright stated, but many hinted at

summary: breakfast with the ghouls, rain thinks dew is pretty. [ft. albino dew and telepathy]

word count: 1.3k?

rating: G [T?]

snippet:

he's been staring all morning, as much as he's been trying to hide it. when he had walked into the kitchen in search of coffee, he instead found a half asleep dewdrop making eggs. he had frozen, not expecting anyone else to be up that early, and went about making his coffee as quietly as he could. dew didn't say anything to him, simply shifted his slouching form further down the counter- to get away from him, rain supposed.

rain shifts in his seat, letting his gaze fall back to his half eaten breakfast as dew lifts his head from his own breakfast, similarly uneaten.

he's been staring all morning, as much as he's been trying to hide it. when he had walked into the kitchen in search of coffee, he instead found a half asleep dewdrop making eggs. he had frozen, not expecting anyone else to be up that early, and went about making his coffee as quietly as he could. dew didn't say anything to him, simply shifted his slouching form further down the counter- to get away from him, rain supposed.

mountain, aether and cumulus had slowly filed into the kitchen while rain was adding the milk to his coffee, dew plating his eggs. rain had taken their respective mugs out of the cabinet and set them ready for the next pot of coffee, his hands hovering over dew's mug. he chanced a quick glance towards the fire ghoul, relieved that dew's eyes were focused on his fork shifting the eggs around his plate.

aether had taken the seat next to dew, mountain sitting directly across from him and cumulus to his right, talking mountain's ear off about a show rain's never heard of. he catches aether's eye and jerks his head subtly in dew's direction, motioning to the mug with his hand. aether only shrugs- standing a few seconds later and making his way to the counter, rationing out everyone's preferred strength of coffee. rain stares at him for a moment, having intended to do this himself, before reaching past rain and grabbing dew's mug, setting it down. "coffee, dew?"

the room goes quiet for a few seconds, further still even after dew simply hums in affirmation. aether rations dew's coffee- three coffee, two sugar- then he pats rain on the shoulder, moving around the kitchen to grab a few slices of bread, popping them in the toaster before sitting back in his seat, back next to dew.

rain takes the hint and picks up where aether left off, pouring water and milk into the four mugs while sipping on his own coffee. it's then that swiss pads into the kitchen, yawning and stretching his arms above his head as he makes his way to the counter, grabbing his own mug from the cupboard.

"fill me up, yeah?" rain does, able to just squeak by with enough hot water to fill his mug. he kisses rain on the cheek as he leans over to grab a plate from the cupboard next to the mugs, setting it on the counter just as the toaster pops. swiss lights up with delight, moving down the counter to try and grab his toast with minimal burns to his fingertips "oh, aether, you doll!"

rain smiles to himself, listening to swiss sit down next to aether and pepper his face with dry kisses and 'thank you's as he grabs the mugs two at a time and sets them down in front of aether, mountain, cumulus and dew. mountain, aether and cumulus thank him as he sits down next to 'lus, having finished his coffee. he doesn't expect dewdrop to thank him, but a small part of himself wants him to. wants dew to look up from his plate, look rain in the eye with his newly violet stare and say those two words, any words, to him. wants dewdrop to smile and call him doll.

cumulus offers to make him breakfast, and though he's fast to agree, he doesn't take his eyes off of dew as he sips from his mug.

which brings him here, stealing glances at dew while their breakfasts go cold and the others- now joined by cirrus and stratus- talk about anything and everything around him. he hears them, but he doesn't listen, preoccupied with looking at dew and then longing to look at him when he has to avert his gaze. dew looks ethereal, ivory hair pulled into a sleep mussed, delicate braid running off of his small shoulder, pale strands falling into his face to grace his cheekbones, violet irises and milky eyelashes catching in the sun slipping through the window. like light seeping through stained glass. he looks beautiful.

rain wants to tell him as much, longs to. he doesn't, however. he and dew haven't spoken a word to each other since he's been summoned, rain usually pretends to not know why, pretends to be shy, pretends to be polite, but he knows better. knows the screaming down the hall the night he was summoned was not the wails of a sibling of sin, knows the snow touched strands of dew's hair and lashes were not those that he was summoned with, knows the reason for dew's clear irises and skittish, blurry gaze is not that of birth, but of trauma. trauma that if he were not summoned, wouldn't have happened.

aether tells him often not to blame himself, that his summoning was botched, that imperator was all too quick to try a ritual he'd never heard of- one with a concerningly low survival rate, he'd discovered later, and that dew was the perfect candidate. rain wants to believe him, believe it's not his fault, but it's difficult when he witnesses dew limp and shuffle from room to room, sees him wince when he stands, sees him squeeze his eyes shut when they're giving him a headache with how much they move around against his will. watches him avoid mirrors.

he wants to believe aether when he tells rain not to feel guilty, but it's hard to believe when rain feels as though he's robbed dew of everything he was.

aether says something, some joke or quick witted reply to something stratus has said, and rain watches in awe as dewdrop laughs. it's an awkward, involuntary thing, and rain can't be mad at himself for missing the joke when he gets to see the way dew's shoulders relax a little as he smiles at aether. it's dew's real smile, not the practised, close mouthed smile that rain usually sees dew give to cumulus or swiss. no, it's a downturned, almost sad looking thing that makes rain feel sinful for simply having witnessed it even though he's distantly envious he wasn't the cause. he wants to capture this moment, lock it in a bottle and stare at it when he feels down, keep it close to his heart.

he thinks dew's smile is pretty, and he wants to tell him.

he is, unfortunately, a coward.

"aether." rain presses into aether's mind so suddenly aether nearly chokes on his food, coughing slightly. aether looks at him from over the table, raising an eyebrow at him. "this can't be said out loud?"

"no, i need you to tell dew something."

aether's eyes widen slightly, but he pressed on, "and what's that?"

rain swallows thickly, flicking his gaze from dew to aether a couple of times before settling on, "could you tell him he looks pretty when he smiles? his- his real smile."

aether grins at him as subtly as he can manage, waiting for a conversation to pick up with the rest of the ghouls at the table before leaning in close to dew to whisper something to him. rain really hopes that aether doesn't tell dew that rain is the one who wanted him to know that his smile is pretty, but it makes dew sway as he bumps shoulders with aether and smiles again, his real smile, and rain doesn't look away when dew looks up at him again, this time making eye contact with him before he feels a gentle push into his brain, like waves lapping at his ankles, he walks further into the water when he hears it,

"thank you."

#thank you jett #and thank you to ghouletteanon suits and wrath!! #mushy may #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #stratus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #the band ghost fanfiction #idk how to tag shit 👍 #oh also it gets rlly sad sorry #rain/dewdrop #uh. ithink thats it. #SORRY FOR ALL LOWERCASE BTW I HATE IT TOO #but by god am i lazy as shit #denim writes #ficlet

[iamthecomet]

Mushy May Days 7&8

Prompt(s): Day 7 - Compliments and Day 8 - First Time Rating: Explicit Pairing: Dewdrop/Cumulus Featuring: Cumulus has some reservations about sleeping with the fire ghoul. But Dew definitely doesn't treat her the way she expected. Dew being smitten. Cumulus being nervous. Cunnilingus. Body Worship. Some serious adoration. They're soft as fuck. Word Count: 1.3k+ Read it under the cut, or on AO3.

Cumulus doesn’t get nervous. She gets excited. Giddy. What does she have to be nervous about really? There are very few things on the surface that rival anything she’s seen in hell. She hasn’t been on the surface long, a handful of months. But in that time she’s found that Earth is a calm, gentle place. Easy. Non-threatening. There is nothing to be worried about here. So, the clenching in her gut, the feeling of not being able to sit still, the way her skin prickles somewhere between excitement and anxiety when Dew drags his hungry eyes over her body? It’s new.

And, she’s surprised to find, not entirely unwelcome. It’s nice to feel a spark of apprehension. To stumble forward into the unknown. She’s slept with most of the others, known before any clothes came off how it would go. What the dynamic would be. That Mountain would be soft, and Rain would be nervous, and Aether would want her to take charge. Dew, she knows from the casual way they all talk about each other, is a handful. Demanding. Usually bratty. Occasionally a pillow princess. Which, is why Cumulus hasn’t done this before. Because if anyone is going to be a pillow princess—it’s going to be her.

But he’s hard to resist. Especially on the days when his attention turns to her. When he drags copper eyes over her figure with hunger that makes her skin tingle. She can feel the heat radiating off of him when they sit next to each other during mass. His hands folded on his lap, back straight.

She wants to know what that heat feels like inside of her. Wants to know what it feels like to be consumed by him.

She watches him during mass, scooting her thigh closer until it’s pressed up against his. He turns his masked face toward her, silver glinting in light so dim she can barely make out his eyes. He catches her gaze.

She doesn’t need to see his mouth to know it’s curling up into a smirk.

Apprehension dumps into her belly. Nerves she’s not used to fluttering into her veins. Looks away first, dragging her eyes back to the front of the room where Nihil is droning on. She doesn’t pull her leg away.

It’s only a handful of seconds later that she feels the warm press of a palm just above her knee. His thumb strokes the inside of her leg. A metronome of heat against her skin.

She expects something quick. Expects that when Nihil is finally done with his sermon, Dew will grab her hand and drag her into the relic closet like she’s watched him do with innumerable siblings.

What she gets instead is Dew lacing his fingers with hers and tugging her out of the chapel. He doesn’t pull, doesn’t drag. He walks next to her, thumb sliding over hers. He leads her to his room. He closes the door. He locks it.

She stands next to his bed and watches him pull his mask off and shake out his hair, his face turning up into a grin as he crosses the room to her.

She lets him pull her mask off, calloused fingers dragging across her skin as he does. He sets her mask down next to his gently.

She’s about to ask him who he is and what he’s done with their spitfire, when he kisses her. Fingers sinking into her plush curls as he molds his lips to hers. He kisses to claim, tongue dragging over the seam of her lips until she opens her mouth to him.

He purrs as soon as she does, licking into her mouth, trying to pull her impossibly closer. He tastes like cinnamon. Like cigarettes. Like a bonfire. She curls her arms around his neck and holds him there just as he’s pulling one hand from her curls to run it over her side, to hitch her even closer so she can feel the warm press of him over the length of her body.

She loses track of the kiss. Loses track of when it stops and when others start. She makes quick work of his uniform jacket and the shirt underneath. When he moves to do the same—his fingers shake against the buttons.

She pulls back far enough to look at his face. To see the way his cheeks are flushed pink. He won’t meet her eyes, just keeps slowly threading buttons, exposing more and more supple skin to his wandering hands.

When Dew finally has her naked in front of him, he groans, low in his throat as his eyes drag over her body. She has the strangest urge to hide, to cross her arms over her chest. Not because she’s ashamed, but because the intensity of his stare feels as consuming as his kiss.

“Dew,” she says quietly, in an attempt to break him out of whatever stupor he’s fallen into. “You’re drooling.”

Dew’s eyes dart up to hers, mirth flooding through them, crinkling at the corners. “Can you blame me? Look at you.”

She doesn’t really know what she’s supposed to say to that. All of this is beyond her expectations. She’s been treated like this by Mountain, by Aether, by Cirrus. Held up on a pedestal. Looked at with wide, reverent eyes.

But Dewdrop?

Dewdrop doesn’t offer anyone reverence. The world belongs to him, bows to him, gives him whatever he wants at the snap of his fingers. He doesn’t kneel, or bow, to anyone.

But then he’s doing exactly that, gentling her back onto the bed, kneeling between her spread thighs, nuzzling his face against her belly, in between her breasts. Mouthing at whatever expanse of soft skin he can find. Sharp teeth and clever tongue leaving a trail of reddening skin.

Cumulus threads her fingers in his hair. The other hand she leans back on, bracing herself on the bed as Dew sits lower on his knees and ducks his head to dig those teeth into the meat of her thigh.

“Wanted this,” Dew murmurs against her skin and Cumulus is sure she’d misheard him. But he keeps going. “Since you got summoned. So, fucking gorgeous.”

“Dew,” she whispers, but whatever the follow up is leaves her brain as his mouth slips higher. Tongue darting out to lick the juncture between thigh and hip. Her body is a thousand miles ahead of her mind. She can’t say the same to him. Can’t profess an immediate attraction—desire. Dew’s abrasive in most situations. Like rubbing up against sandpaper. And so, while she wants this, and Satanas does she, she’s having trouble reconciling the ghoul between her knees with the one who nearly lit the rehearsal room on fire when he messed up a solo last week.

“So pretty spread out for me like this,” he whispers as he mouths over her hips, the space below her belly. “Fucking perfect.”

He slips one finger into her without much warning. She sighs, closes her eyes as he works another finger into her and starts to pet upward.  She can feel how wet she is now, drooling down around his fingers. He drags his thumb over her clit at the same moment he finds a spot inside her that makes her whole-body light up in pleasure. She makes a noise she wishes she could take back. Mostly, because it turns his smile smug—prideful.

Someday, she’ll wipe it off of his face. Later, maybe, she’ll shove him into the mattress and ride him until he begs.

But right now his head is dipping lower, that unholy tongue darting out drag through her folds, to gather her taste on his tongue. He groans, uses the hand on her thigh to spread her legs wider. She digs her fingers into his scalp. And tries to force her shaking arm to hold her up.

Dew notices. He pulls back to grin up at her. “Just lay back, Lus. Relax.” When she does, he dips his head again, tongue darting out to flick over her clit. “Let me take care of you.”

#comet writes #mushy may #Cumulus/Dewdrop #cumdrop #Dewdrop/Cumulus #Cumulus Ghoulette #Dewdrop Ghoul #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction

[divine-misfortune]

Mushy May, day 10. Staring in adoration.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Rain/Dewdrop

Words: 420 (let's go-)

Summary: Rain could watch Dew play forever if he'd let him.

It wasn’t like he’d never seen Dew play before. Rain had seen him lost in his own world with his fingers drifting over the strings more times than he could count but it never got any less fascinating.

The way Dew strummed his guitar was an art form, truly.

The crowds that watched him in awe only ever saw him in his element. Never like this, working out the hiccups and hangups of new songs with a careful precision. His lower lip always ended up between his teeth, worried pink and puffy by the point of his fangs. The furrow of his brow knitting deeper when his notes came out too metallic and sharp but softening when the chords sang sweet. If Rain listened close enough he could hear the faint praise he gave his guitar muttered under his breath.

A whisper of that’s my girl in a tone Rain was intimately familiar with.

Dew handled his guitar with a confidence one might save for a lover.

He could almost feel his voice against the shell of his ear, hot on his skin. It made his heart jump in his chest, a shudder trilling up his spine. Watching the mere press of his fingertips against the fretboard came with the phantom sensation of untrimmed claws digging into his hips. Rain swallowed before Dew could catch him practically drooling.

Practice had ended nearly an hour ago but Rain was more than content to sit on the well worn couch and watch the fire ghoul work. It was hypnotizing to watch his thin little fingers dance up and down the neck while he idly swayed his hips, the tip of his tail ghosting over the floorboards behind him. He'd savor every second of him here alone in these practice rooms where perfection was a far off goal.

Rain never thought he’d be jealous of a fucking instrument. He wanted Dew to be just as enraptured with him and the act of dragging only the prettiest of sounds from him. Dew could play him just the same, maybe even more efficiently than he could his guitar. They both knew that fact.

And Dew chuckled as he rocked back on his heels, dragging his pick over all six strings. Rain felt his face grow hot when Dew fixed his attention on him, he always felt warm under his gaze but his cheeks burned when he flashed a grin of dangerous teeth.

His heart fluttered.

“You like what you see, raincloud?”

“Oh…More than you know.”

#mushy may #void writing #writing #the band ghost #ghost the band #the band ghost ficlet #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #raindrop #rain/dew #rain/dewdrop