dyou think aether ever ruins dew's orgasms by tickling him? just for fun? just to get his little wires crossed and to watch his cock spurt as he jerks around half-laughing half-groaning?
It was accidental the first time.
Dew was on his back in Aether's big soft bed, huffing and moaning through the slowest, most indulgent head Aether could give him. Flushed in every shade of pink, knees over those broad shoulders, one hand playing with a nipple piercing and the other in his own bedraggled hair. Blabbering the most unintelligible nonsense, every almost-word swirling around Aether's mind and pooling deep in his gut.
He's always been handsy, but something about Dew makes it Worse. He needs to touch, to grope, to map every centimeter of the little ghoul's body with callused but loving fingertips.
Aether couldn't help the way those same fingertips traced over the dip of Dew's stomach, catching in his barely-there happy trail. The way the muscles jumped under his touch hadn't even fazed Aether, the ghoul far too caught up in the way Dew's voice was going raspy and higher-pitched instead. Eyes locked on his scrunched up face, on the lip caught between his teeth and the ever-reddening quality of Dew's cheeks.
"C-close," he spat, thick and urgent, that perfect little cock flexing against Aether’s tongue. "Fuck, Aeth, I - make...make me - ah!"
Aether dragged his fingers up Dew's sides, coasting over his ribs, and Dew cut himself off with a squeak. Not the tight, throaty shout the other would usually let out the moment his balls emptied themselves, but something sharper. Shocked, Aether would realize in retrospect, but in the moment?
"Shitshitshit-" Dew babbled, grabbing at Aether's horns and hair, squirming like a fish out of water. Gasping at every unintentionally ticklish touch, dragged back from the very edge of relief but still pouring pre down Aether's throat. "Oh no, Ae-Aeth, Aether - y-you...fuck!"
Aether only clocked something was off when Dew shuddered through his orgasm with weak laughter and both hands over his own face. Not the bone-melting release Aether had wanted to provide him, but something much more subdued. Pleasant, surely, but...
"You alright, droplet?" Aether asked once he'd swallowed everything the little ghoul had to offer, watching that narrow chest heave. His cunt ached, no doubt soaking a stain into the pillow hastily shoved between his thighs some thirty minutes ago. Desperate to crawl up the bed and put the other ghoul's proud nose to good use. He hadn't stopped touching, though, and Dew's wriggling hadn't either. "What's -"
"Ticklish," came his answer, breathless and exhausted, Dew slapping at his arms with weak, shaky hands. "You - eek! - you're tickling me Aeth, c'mon-"
And listen, Aether loves Dew more than damn near anything, but no one could be immune to that breathy laughter. Could resist digging into Dew's sides to wrench out more giggles while his softening cock sat wet and used up in the crease of his hip, pink as the rest of him. Aether thinks he can't be blamed for wanting to see joyful yet torturous tears streak down Dew's cheeks - it's just so cute!
He'd kissed the center of Dew's chest in apology, his chin, the tip of that perfect nose, but even when Aether sandwiched Dew's head between his thighs he couldn't stop thinking about that lovely laughter. What if he had started just a little bit later? Right when Dew's tight sack had drawn up against his chin? The reaction had already been an intense one, and he could only imagine what would have happened if...
It's two weeks later when he gets Dew on his knees and elbows, arched like a whore and drooling into the sheets while Aether watches his hole stretch around his strap. He knows the other ghoul is close, can see it in the sweat along his spine and the messy, uncoordinated way he tugs at himself. Yipping with every thrust to his most secret spots and no doubt dribbling a stream of pre onto the bedding. He's holding those slim hips so tightly, moving that slender body however he likes.
It's a terrible idea, surely he shouldn't, but Aether can't help his curiosity.
He waits for just the right moment, this time. Waits until Dew's breath starts to hitch, until his claws tear into the sheets and he announces that it's coming, he's gonna - and this time Aether knows just where to touch.
Dew yelps as thick fingertips dig into his ribs and stomach, demanding and precise, and the distressed bark of laughter he lets out is music to Aether's ears.
He'll make it up to him after. Will pull Dew into his lap, hit him with just enough quintessence to relieve the ache of his ruined orgasm and kiss him so deep. Will get the other ghoul hard as diamond and offer any hole Dew wants in penance. Maybe even his tits, he's not fussy. It'll be worth it for the way Dew sobs into the sheets, forced to let his cock wag and spit out the most unsatisfying load.
"Bastard," Dew squeals through his giggles, and the way he clamps down around Aether's strap makes his clit throb.
He can't wait to see what Dew calls him next time.
Transmasc Aether who rarely binds and regularly goes shirtless. Saggy hairy tits out for the world to see. Absolute slut who wears shirts half unbuttoned to show off the inner sideboob.
i crown thee ceo of ghoul pussy also could we get anything on aether's
lev this is a high title to uphold, im honored /lh
and oh, aether? oh, you don't want to get me started on aether
first, let me recommend my top trans aether fic, Share Your Mouth(ful)
i also have this ficlet, this one, this one, this one, and this onnneeee.
first of all. he's big. fat. you know boy's got a chode whether he's trans or not. if he's hard, you can see it through his pants. def likes to fuck w/it. and obviously, he's fat all over (and hi, the aether titties???), so that means nice fat, plush vulva too. fuzzy. loves having just everything sucked on. loves to have his partner put his cock in their mouth and hold it there so they both can feel it throb. is one of those cunt-havers that can sort of ejaculate a milky-white slick when you've really got him going.
obviously it never matters to me what aether's got going on. he's our big loveable quint ghoul and that's what i love most about him.
but i will be crazy about trans aether. i will be insane about his little dick. and i will want it in my mouth. it's just facts. ask anyone i talk to on a regular basis and they'll tell you as soon as you mention it i disintegrate.
explicit | m/f | 2k | transmasc aether, transfem sunshine, THEY'RE T4T BABYYYY, oral sex, vaginal fingering, body worship, thighs, porn without plot, porn with feelings
snippet and ao3 link under the cut !!
“Sunnyyyy!” He dragged out her name. “Why’d you stop?”
Sunshine had to bite back a smile at how cute he looked when he was annoyed. His expression twisted into one of petulance as he lay on his back, legs bent with his feet planted steadily on the mattress on either side of her. His arms rested behind his head, providing him with a pillow every time his head fell back from the pleasure of it all. She sat back on her knees, wanting to take in the gorgeous sight of the quintessence ghoul spread out before her and, fuck, was that a good decision. From higher up, she could see the way his eyebrows furrowed and the way his lips turned down into a pout; giving him an adorably confused expression on top of his previous annoyance. She could see just how much his chest was heaving; the way his breaths were shaking with every exhale. She noted the rosy blush spreading from his cheeks all the way down his chest, disappearing under the cream fabric of his chest binder.
“You need to take this off, love?” Sunshine gestured to Aether’s binder.
He shook his head. “I’m good. It’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” He nodded, smiling up at her. “Okay. But let me know if that changes, alright? I don’t want you getting hurt, Aeth.”
“Of course.”
“Perfect. I’ll get back to work, then.” She said, relishing in the way Aether’s face lit up, not unlike an excitable puppy. “Do you want my fingers too? Do you want to cum on my fingers before you cum on my clit, love?”
“Yes! Please, Sunny. I wanna cum.” He drew out the last few syllables, making her chuckle softly.
“Patience, Aeth.”
She ran her hand up his sides and arms until she reached his head, her eyes scanning over his body, worshipping it with her sight. She reached a hand out to touch his hair; messy from her previous ministrations and their run through the windy courtyard from Mass to Aether’s room. She ran her fingers through it—making sure not to catch them on any knots—before trailing her hands down his face, dragging her nails gently across his stubble and walking her fingers down and around the area of chest hair that wasn’t covered by Aether’s binder. She moved her hands to his stomach and sides, ghosting reverently over his deliciously soft skin, leaning down to press a kiss to his happy trail and delighting in the slight shudder it elicited from the ghoul above her. She kissed her way down his happy trail until she reached his cock (which she also pressed a kiss too, resulting in a gorgeous moan from Aether) where she skirted around his throbbing—and dripping— cunt, instead choosing to make a beeline for his thighs. Fuck , did she love his thighs. She made sure to tell him as such.
“You do?” He asked, equal parts hopeful and hesitant, almost like he wanted to believe her, but wasn’t quite sure if she was being serious or not.
“Of course I do!” She reassured him, still trailing her hands all over them—taking extra care to brush over the sensitive skin of his inner thighs—and dusting her lips over them with open-mouthed kisses. “I love how they clench against me when I suck you off and lick at that pretty cunt of yours. I love feeling them slap against me when you ride me. Sathanas , I love hearing it too.” She started sucking bruises into the pale skin on the inside of his thighs in between sentences, watching in awe as the marks blossomed and darkened almost immediately after she made them. “I love the way they feel slamming against me when you fuck into me with that strap-on you steal from Cirrus. Shit, I could go on about them forever, Aeth. They’re gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.” Sunshine looked up from where she’d been leaving her gentle bruises to find Aether hiding his face in his hands; his deep crimson blush extremely prominent even half-obscured by his hands.
“‘M not gorgeous.” Aether sounding this flustered and embarrassed shouldn’t be this hot, but Sunshine can’t deny the squirt of slick her clit secretes at the tone in Aether’s voice—that perfect combination of unfathomably turned on but embarrassed by all the attention. “I’m handsome. ” And, oh , the confident way he said that as he pulled his hands away from his face shouldn’t have made her heart flutter and jump like that but, Sathanas Almighty , he was so precious like that; she couldn’t help it.
“You’re very handsome.” She reassured him, gazing up at him lovingly from her place between his thighs. “My handsome ghoul.”
Aether blushed (again) and smiled at her, an equally loving look on his face. “My beautiful ghoulette.”
read it here on ao3!
beta'd by the wonderful @spoiledleaff, i appreciate your help so much, my friend! <3
Miasma do you ever think about Copia n Dew n Aether doing a triangle-eat out session and take turns scissoring each other and seeing how wet and sloppy their fat tdicks can get bc I do
Well I mean NOW I am fjjdudhgd omfg what a picture that paints.
Do you think Copia needs a break after he cums, and feels a little disappointed when he sees how much bigger Aether's gets than his? He's Papa, he should have the biggest dick at the abbey! But as he sits there slowly stroking himself with a gloved hand - the gloves always stay on, the leather gone so, so slippery - watching Aether and Dew make their cunts kiss...it's all he can think about.
They can tell, of course. See the little glint of disappointment in his one green eye even as more slick dribbles from his hole. The ghouls have a little mental back-and-forth, the room filled with wet, filthy sounds, and Dew looks at Copia with fire in his eyes and a lip between his fangs.
"'S not enough, Papa," he huffs, reaching down to the place Aether's dick rubs against his. "Need..need yours."
He and Aether share a mental high five when Copia visibly perks up, his dick kicking between those two fingers. There's and incredulousness in his expression, and Aether gives Dew a subtle nudge with his thigh. The little ghoul takes the hint, groaning as he untangles his legs from Aether's and gets on his knees. Bends over a reaches back to spread himself open, to show off his glistening folds and creamy hole. His t-dick throbs with no stimulation, and Dew makes a sad little sound.
"Please, Papa." It's soft, a whisper, that makes Copia shiver. "Please put it in me."
Copia's jaw drops at the request, so entranced by Dew presenting himself that he doesn't even notice Aether crawling over to kneel by him. Not until a strong hand takes his own, pulls it from Copia's leaking cunt to his own lips. Aether licks the leather clean, thick fingers slip between Copia's twitching thighs, and is far too distracted by Dew's hungry hole and the roughness of those digits to notice the little spark of magic in Aether's touch.
"Will you do it, Papa?" Copia blinks when Aether rumbles it against his fingertips, a gentle kiss pressed to each one, all laced with a little more influence. "Will you give him this big, fat cock?"
Callused fingers stroke Copia's length and he sucks air through his teeth.
"I'll show you how he likes it best," Aether coos, another kiss placed to the back of his Papa's hand. "But I know I won't be enough for him tonight."
Copia curses in Italian, his swollen t-dick flexes between Aether's fingers, and the ghouls share a secret smile when he nods.
"Please, Papa," Dew begs with a completely unnecessary sniffle. "Please...fill me up?"
He clenches around nothing, a bead of slick drools down his fat little dick, and Aether thinks the sound Copia makes is worth their little bit of manipulation.
Contains: transmasc Aether (use of cunt/clit/cock and tits for his anatomy), heat/rut cycles, masturbation, rough sex, biting/marking, multiple orgasms, knotting, heavy breeding/impregnation kink and mostly implied quintessence fuckery.
Ifrit has a problem.
He'd woken with a sharp gasp, had rolled out of bed sweaty, tense all over and so hard his sleep pants threatened to split at the seams. Still sleep heavy and dazed but filled with an urgency he would know anywhere, three humps against his palm was all it had taken for him to spill with a rough grunt. He'd watched the stain soak into his pants with barely cracked eyes, groaning deep in his chest. He'd given his smooth sack a nice squeeze, still-hard cock throbbing, and with a deep sigh Ifrit had pulled it out over his waistband.
The beginnings of swelling at the base told him everything he needed to know.
Read it below, or on AO3!
Ifrit has a problem.
He'd woken with a sharp gasp, had rolled out of bed sweaty, tense all over and so hard his sleep pants threatened to split at the seams. Still sleep heavy and dazed but filled with an urgency he would know anywhere, three humps against his palm was all it had taken for him to spill with a rough grunt. He'd watched the stain soak into his pants with barely cracked eyes, groaning deep in his chest. He'd given his smooth sack a nice squeeze, still-hard cock throbbing, and with a deep sigh Ifrit had pulled it out over his waistband.
The beginnings of swelling at the base told him everything he needed to know.
It's been just over an hour since then, and he's made it as far as the shower. The water's long since gone cold, raising goosebumps as it trails over his skin, but Ifrit doesn't care. He's burning from the inside out, leaning heavy against the tiled wall and panting through grit teeth. Tugging at himself with both hands, pausing only long enough to squeeze the burgeoning bulb of his knot. Ifrit's hips move in mindless ruts as he chases the white rabbit that is his orgasm; it's the fourth one so far, each one harder to reach than the last, and he hunches as his stomach clenches. So much pressure built up inside, hot claws dug deep into his guts, he's already close to rubbing himself raw. Ifrit hisses as he polishes the head, and finally, finally feels the dam start to give.
The images flying through his brain make little sense, bright bursts of skin and sweat and the glorious sound of flesh meeting flesh. Every orgasm clears some of the haze, brings him closer to discovering what, exactly, his rut wants this time around, but Ifrit can never be sure just how many it'll take.
“Fuck, c'mon, fuck,” he rasps, voice lost in the rush of the water. He grips himself tight and fucks his fists, eyes clamped shut and mind racing. His heats are always frantic, always demanding, but Ifrit knows the load he's about to blow won't fix that. There's only one thing that will, and all he can do is hope that this release is the one that brings him the clarity he so desperately needs.
“Oh shit.”
Ifrit gasps, head lolling forward as his balls draw up. He clenches his jaw so hard it cracks, toes curling against the tile, and with a drawn out groan everything goes white.
As he shoots all over the shower door, thighs twitching, a truly divine image burns itself into his addled mind. One of plush thighs, kiss-bitten lips and a decidedly round belly.
“Aether.”
Ifrit has a problem, and now he knows just how to fix it.
He barely dries off, just towels his shaggy hair with shaking hands and stumbles to his closest while he has the presence of mind to dress himself. It won't last long, he knows from experience, but he manages to throw on a tank top (backwards) and a pair of basketball shorts from his workout shelf before the itch settles in again. Ifrit tucks his aching length up against his stomach, and cannot possibly be bothered to check if the shorts hide the ridiculous bulge he's sporting.
The walk to Aether's room isn't one he remembers, but the next thing Ifrit knows he's pounding on a door that certainly isn't his own. He can smell his prize straight through the wood, stronger than usual, and Ifrit thinks if he has to wait a second longer to get what he wants then he'll just break the fucking thing down and take it.
The lock tumbles, the hinges creak, and the only reason Ifrit doesn't storm right in is because of the hand that grips his tank.
“Finally,” Aether growls, dragging him bodily inside. Ifrit trips over something unseen, catches himself on a bed post. “What the fuck took you so long?”
The tone of it, the ferocity, slaps a little sense back into Ifrit's rut-dumb mind. He fixes Aether with a scowl, chest heaving, and finds the other ghoul looking as crazed as he feels. He's sweaty, the hair coating his chest and belly matted with it, every inch of his very much naked body flushed and quivering. Ifrit's gaze catches between his legs, hones in on the throbbing, ruddy length of his fat little cock and the glistening slick already coating his thighs. His nostrils flare, soaking in Aether's scent, and somehow it smells like -
“I said,” Aether snaps, licking his lips, “what the fuck took you -”
Ifrit snarls, crosses the distance between them and pins Aether to the door before he can finish, crushing their mouths together in what can only technically be called a kiss. It's brutal, sharp and starved and wholly desperate. Aether moans into it anyway, digging his claws into Ifrit's biceps and drawing out a hiss. He bites Aether's lip in retaliation, getting a handful of his hair and yanking his head away. They're both panting, and the sight of Aether licking the blood from his lip makes Ifrit feel more than a little insane.
“You're in heat,” he manages to bite out, shoving his face into the crook of Aether's neck and sucking down his intoxicating scent. It's sweet but bitter, sharp but smooth - too good to be true. “How are you -”
“Your fault,” Aether spits, getting both hands on Ifrit's broad chest and shoving him away, forcing him to stumble back to the bed. Aether gets a hand on his throat and pushes him to the mattress, straddling his waist and giving Ifrit a nice eyeful of his dripping cunt in the process. “Could smell your rut coming last night,” he rasps, grabbing the collar of Ifrit's shirt and tearing it straight down the middle. “You set me off.”
Ifrit doesn't know what that means, nor does he have the presence of mind to care. Especially not when Aether grips his pecs, rocking his hips just enough to drag his stubby clit over Ifrit's abs. The shiny trail he leaves behind makes Ifrit's vision tunnel, and he reaches up to grope Aether's chest. It's fuller than usual, his tits firm and obviously tender judging by Aether's gasp and they way he shudders when Ifrit tweaks his puffy nipples.
“Fuck, If,” he breathes, shuffling back just enough to grind against Ifrit's clothed cock. The heat of him is maddening, and Ifrit's eyes cross. “Need it in me, need you to -”
He doesn't have the chance to finish before Ifrit knocks him off balance, and in a flash Aether's pinned to the mattress with his ass in the air. Ifrit keeps him there with one hand on the back of his neck, the other shoving down his own shorts.
“Shut the fuck up.” Ifrit swears to himself when he finally gets a hand on his cock, the thing now gone angry red and leaking all over. “I'll decide what you need.”
Aether does not argue. Instead, he works himself into a deep arch, watching Ifrit over his shoulder and huffing into the sheets. He reaches back to spread himself open, needy cunt winking and already begging to be filled. Ifrit growls as he grips himself, dragging the head through Aether's slippery folds. The wet sound of it fills the room, makes him dizzy, and the punched out sound Aether makes when he lines up only makes it worse.
“Kiss it,” Ifrit demands. The other ghoul makes a fascinating sound, something between a moan and a whimper, and when he feels Aether's entrance clench against his tip his eyes roll. “Good boy.”
He pushes in without another word, gripping Aether's soft hips as he splits him open. Aether howls through it, grabbing at his own hair and babbling nonsense with every thick inch that stretches him. They're both gasping by the time the swell of his knot meets Aether's cunt, his thighs trembling and Ifrit's stomach flexing. Despite the torturous pressure between his legs, Ifrit leans down and rests his forehead between Aether's sweaty shoulder blades. Gives them both a moment to adjust.
Aether doesn't give him the chance, clamping down around him and sucking air through his fangs at the sting it provides.
“Don't make me wait any more,” he slurs into the bed, reaching back to grab at Ifrit's thighs. “Give it to me, you have to -”
Ifrit sinks his fangs into Aether's shoulder, into a spot already scarred with past marks, and Aether goes limp beneath him.
“I know what you need,” Ifrit rumbles, licking at the new punctures. He drags his tongue over scalding skin, up Aether's throat and dipping it into his pointed ear. Aether makes a gurgling sound, and Ifrit throbs. He pushes himself upright, pulls out until just the head sits inside, and braces himself with one foot on the mattress. “But you're not gettin’ it until I say so.”
He slams back in all at once, knocks the air out of the ghoul before him, and doesn't hesitate to start up a rhythm of deep, driving thrusts. Doesn't so much as pause when Aether tenses around him, shuddering and moaning almost immediately through the first of who knows how many orgasms Ifrit will wring out of him. It's mindless, animalistic and urgent on both of their parts. Feral in a way Ifrit has never experienced - he knows how this will end, what his bestial nature demands, and every time his fat knot meets Aether's wicked body he feels one specific urge grow.
On instinct, Ifrit's hands move from Aether's hips. Sliding forward to clutch the soft swell of his stomach - massaging, kneading, like he's trying to feel himself deep inside. The same image that had flashed through his mind in the shower resurfaces, clear as day, and Ifrit pauses on a forward thrust to grind his knot in just a little deeper. He barely notices Aether wailing through another release, despite the flood of slick that drips down his balls and pools on the sheets, too caught up in his single minded need to -
“Gonna look so good,” he grunts, broad palms settling low on Aether's belly. “Fuck, you're gonna look amazing all stuffed full.”
Aether chokes out something like a curse, pained and pitchy, but he untangles a hand from the blanket anyway. Shoves it between his legs, past Ifrit's groping hands, to rub at his most assuredly sore little cock. Shaking fingers graze the underside of his knot and Ifrit's knees quake.
He buries his face in the sheets as he falls apart yet again, sloppy cunt working to pull more of Ifrit inside him. Craving the stretch of his knot, the impossible fullness that will come with it. Ifrit cants his hips, biting the inside of his cheek and pressing harder on Aether’s belly. He knows just what the other ghoul needs to hear.
“Gonna fill you up,” he huffs, the urgency inside building to fever pitch. “Right here,” he digs his fingertips in deep, and Aether lets out a pleasured sob.
“Please,” he just barely manages, voice cracking as he tries to shove himself back onto the knot he yearns for. Halfway inside now, Ifrit's whole body twitches, and he knows he's reached his limit.
He drapes himself over Aether's back, jabbing at that one spot deep inside that makes the other ghoul shake and drool, and breathes hot against his ear.
“Gonna knock you up,” he snarls, and Aether gets so much tighter. Ifrit's balls draw up close, heavy and full and in dire need of emptying. “Gonna give you every last one of my pups, fuck -”
It's impossible and he knows it, a delusional desire that manages to drive away every ounce of reason and replaces it with a dull buzzing that sounds an awful lot like take, take, take. Ifrit humps away like an eager dog, pushing in deeper and deeper, scrabbling at Aether's sides. He can feel the rush of his rut reaching its crescendo, the highest high, blinding pleasure that promises to leave him as wrecked as the ghoul beneath him.
“Tell me what you need,” he orders, thrusts going stilted and erratic, and Aether's stubble scratches his cheek when he turns his head. The nonstop clenching of his slick walls would be enough all on its own, but Ifrit can't help himself. “Tell me, tell me.”
“Make me a mommy,” Aether whimpers, and with a distant roar and a slick pop Ifrit's world goes dark.
— — —
It's ages before he comes back to himself, the room gone still and silent save for some gentle, even breathing. He doesn't recall moving, but they're on their sides now. Ifrit's spooned up against Aether's back with one arm slung around his waist - Aether's holding his hand, he realizes in a delayed sort of way, and Ifrit can't help his soft chuff of delight. He hums to himself, nuzzling the back of Aether's neck and pressing a kiss to his damp hairline.
“I know you're awake, big guy,” he coos, tracking more little kisses over to the already bruising bite mark he'd left earlier. “You're not snoring.”
Aether lets out an exaggerated honk-shoo and Ifrit snorts. It quickly morphs into a hiss when Aether wiggles against him, tugging at the place where they're still tied together. Ifrit presses his face into the juncture of his throat, and Aether starts to purr.
“That was wild,” Ifrit rasps. His throat feels so raw, voice strained, and he wonders what noise he made to cause it. Maybe Aether will pour the memory into his head later if he asks nicely. He props his chin on the other ghoul's shoulder. “How're you feelin’?”
A vague gurgling sound is the answer he gets, and Ifrit takes that as a good sign. He lets the silence blanket them once more, until Aether brings the hand on his stomach to his lips. He kisses Ifrit's knuckles one by one, lacing their fingers together and sighing happily.
“I'm so glad it worked,” he mumbles, a certain sleepy giddiness in his voice. Ifrit raises a eyebrow where he can't see it.
“Huh? What worked?”
“Omega's heat trick,” Aether replies, tracing a vein in Ifrit's hand with his thumb. “I didn't think it would.”
Ifrit frowns at the back of his head, but doesn't move more than that. His knot will take ages to go down, and dislodging it now would suck for both of them.
“Trick?” Aether nods. “What trick?”
The quiet laugh the other ghoul lets out does funny things to Ifrit's insides. Like a chill, but in his blood.
“You think it was your idea to breed me?”
Aether squeezes his hand, and all of a sudden the image that had haunted him since the shower flashes through his mind; Aether on his back, legs held up and open, his wrecked hole leaking and belly already swollen as he begs for another litter.
It's gone in a blink, and Ifrit gawps at the back of his head. Aether yawns, holding Ifrit's hand against his belly again and giving his knot a squeeze that makes Ifrit yip. He can feel some of his cum slip out around it, and the thought of Aether being so full he's overflowing makes his head spin. He grips tighter around Aether's soft middle, and if he didn't know better Ifrit would swear he's gotten a little bigger.
“How…what…”
“Sometimes a goodnight kiss isn't just a goodnight kiss.”
Aether says it in a playful tone, and Ifrit isn't mentally present enough to do more than stare at him. The gears in his head chug along, and the memory of soft lips pressed to his temple the night before floats through his mind. It had come with a faint tingly sensation, one that he'd written off as something like static.
That same tingly feeling flows into his palm now, creeping up his arm to wrap around his brainstem, and Ifrit as feels his eyelids droop Aether laughs.
“Now let me rest,” he mumbles, hunkering down into his pillow. “I've got pups to grow.”
Ifrit's out like a light before he can respond, but even in sleep his cock pulses.
When Phantom realized they'd started getting bottom growth, they rushed to show Aether and Dew (the other transmascs of the pack). They were so excited, they burst into Aether's room while he and Dew were cuddling, dropped their pants, and excitedly showed off their new dick.
Aether was so startled by being suddenly flashed that he whacked Dew across the face with one of his horns and gave him a nosebleed. Dew found the whole sequence of events hilarious.
My headcanon about Dewdrop and his tattoos! Warning for mention of needles, extremely unsanitary tattoo practice, and some elemental transition related body horror.
Dew has a bunch of stick-and-poke tattoos. He started doing them when he was still a water ghoul, using the end of a broken guitar string and a pen he’d chewed open. They were tiny at first- little stars, frowny faces with x-ed out eyes, and a Satanic cross, all on his upper thighs. They all faded in months, so Dew just tattooed new designs over them. His tools got a little better, he was using a sewing pin sterilized with a lighter and some calligraphy ink he’d stolen from the library. He slowly started to get better, his lines got steadier, and he even started sketching up designs rather than freehanding them.
Then his elemental transition happened. The process was excruciating- his body had to remake itself from the ground up. His fins necrotized and fell off and his coral-like horns grew brittle and crumbled away. His gills stung and itched as they sealed shut. He wanted this, had always felt off regarding his element of water, but he almost thought it wasn’t worth it. He kept telling himself it would be over soon but it just kept going.
It took six months for the transformation to be complete. When Dew was finally able to look in the mirror, he saw himself. It was freeing. The only thing he missed from his old body was the tattoos. Somewhere through the process of growing new flesh, the ink had disappeared. He mourned them- they were symbols of his growth and something that made his body uniquely his.
Dew started tattooing himself again, this time with slightly better tools. He used some sterile needles he’d swiped from the infirmary and managed to get his hands on some real tattoo ink. His designs started on his thighs, but moved to his arms, stomach, hips, and lower down his legs. His packmates watched him grow more comfortable in his new form as ink spread across his body.
However, Aether was horrified when Dew described his process the first time. He then gave him an hour-long lecture on sterilization and infections. Dew pointed out that it was very unlikely for ghouls to get wound infections while Topside but Aether insisted that Dew take the proper precautions when tattooing himself in the future, including doing it in the infirmary where it was cleaner. Dew agreed and ordered some proper equipment.
After a while, Aether let Dew tattoo something onto him- his favorite constellation, Ursa Major, in white ink on his wrist. Once healed, it became Dew’s favorite spot to kiss. He’ll never admit it to anyone, but the sight of his own art- even just a simple design- on his mate’s body makes him ridiculously happy. When Aether got top surgery, Dew tattooed more constellations along the scars. He also tattooed his own scars with flame designs.
He’s got some tattoos that are professionally done (mostly on his back, where he can’t reach) that he got on tour, but most of them are done himself.
