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lilypadlys · 2 days ago

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Feed the Fire

Idea I've had bouncing around for a while finally lives

Read here or on ao3

Pairing: Dewtom

WC: 6k

Summary: Transmutation is a powerful skill, one that is highly sought after to those who know what lurks beyond the veil. So of course Phantom would have the beginnings of it. And of course they use it as a new way to get off.

Transmutation is a powerful skill, one that is highly sought after to those who know what lurks beyond the veil. Lead into gold, fire into water, the ability to manipulate the world. But it is a rare skill. As rare as the element that has the potential to wield the power. Quintessence may exist in every crack in the universe, but that does not mean every ghoul can perform these miracles. It is one of the most difficult abilities to obtain, one that can take a millennium to master.

So of course Phantom would have the beginnings of it. They already have the ability to commune with the dead, might as well add another one of the most unique quintessence skills onto the pile. They barely have a grasp on their magick yet they keep showing signs of all the most powerful gifts. Though it is not the worst thing in the world. It has been nice working with Omega as the humans scramble to prepare for Copia becoming Frater and the arrival of their new Papa. It has kept them distracted, given them a schedule to follow after losing the one from tour.

But they have grown bored of Omega’s snail pace of teaching. They get it, it is dangerous and power and all that other stuff. They have promised every single lesson to be so careful and never use it without supervision. They are so tired of waiting to get to the good stuff though. They want to use it on organic material. Test their power on the living. Maybe this is why their healing is weak, maybe they were never meant to be a healer. But if they learn how to change the chemistry of the body, maybe they can be. Maybe they can will flesh into different shapes and fix the sick and injured that way.

That train of thought is precisely what leads them to their current position, kneeling in front of their mirror completely naked. Phantom stares at their reflection, meeting their own nervous eyes. They give themselves a lopsided smile, “It’ll be fine, right? It can’t be that hard.”

If it is not going to be hard then why do they kind of feel like throwing up. Just a little. But really what is the worst that would happen? They are already covered In lichtenberg figure scars, it seriously cannot get worse than that. Can it? No, it will definitely be fine. The worst that can happen is Omega finds out they did this and they have to clean bed pans for a week.

Phantom takes a deep breath, “Now or never.” Shaking hands slide between their thighs to cup their bare cunt. As they slip their eyes shut, they feel like they are on the edge of a cliff. They are either going to take the leap and make it safely into the water or they will hit the jagged rocks. Either way, they are still falling. But taking the first step is the hardest part. They have to focus, have to will their magick to move.

Another breath. They picture it in their mind, their quint sparking to life in the palm of their hand. They hold the glowing purple ball of pure energy as it crackles, eager to latch itself to something. Phantom lets it spread over the soft skin that they touch. They shudder and clench around nothing as they feel it ripple through their cunt.

Focus. Need to stay focused.

They take the energy as they picture it in their mind. They see themselves holding it, grabbing it with both hands like a slab of clay. They begin to mold it, shaping it into the form they desire. They can feel heat spread between their legs alongside a sharp tingling sensation. Sweat begins to dot their hairline as they pour more magick into their hands.

With the basic shape down, they need to make it real. Tangible. Phantom spreads their quint through every nerve, every muscle and vein. They connect it to the shape of energy. Everything starts to burn, heat so intense they could rival a fire ghoul.

“Fucking. Please.” They feel a crackle of quintessence ripple across their body, ozone filling the air. More magick, just a little bit more. Their ears start to ring as they push the rest of what they have to their desired outcome.

For just a moment, they feel like they are floating. Like they are not inside their body anymore. But slowly they come back to themselves. The ball of energy is gone. Their mind is blank, devoid of any thought. They crack open their eyes, meeting the gaze of their reflection. Their cheeks are flushed and their chest heaves as they suck in air. They sluggishly look themselves over, a haze settling over their mind.

They do not look any different. Well besides the exhaustion. That has to be somewhat of a good sign. At the very least they did not fuck themselves up. But then their gaze settles on where their hands still cup between their legs. Their heart beats faster as they feel their stomach drop all the way back to the Pits.

Moment of truth.

They hesitate. They want to know if it worked but they also do not. But the suspense is killing them. But what if they failed?

Another deep breath and they slowly peel their hands away. They squint their eyes as if that will make the result that much easier to digest. Even through their blurry vision, though, they can see the difference.

They gasp and snap their eyes open, fully dropping both hands. Where there once was a cunt, now a soft cock and balls rests. “No way. No fucking way.” They lift up on their knees and scoot closer to their mirror to get a better look. Their panting breaths fog up the glass as they carefully inspect their new appendage. It is a nice dusty purple, average length but with a bit of girth. The head is tapered with small ridges going almost all the way down to the base. Their fingers glide over the shaft, marveling over the way the foreskin shifts and pulls when they get closer to the head.

“Oh Lords Below,” they choke out when their thumb accidentally brushes the underside. It is sensitive. Really sensitive. They do it again. Their stomach swoops as all their blood begins to rush to their cock. The heat burns so much brighter, so much faster, then when they just had a clit to play with. They immediately get lost in it, their little inspection of their experiment already forgotten.

They watch their cock fill out in the mirror with rapt attention, lips parted as they continue to tease the underside of the head. Phantom breathes a laugh when it kicks, a blurt of pre dribbling down their knuckles. They swipe their thumb at the slit, collecting as much as they can to smear around. White hot pleasure zaps from the base of their spine all through their thighs. They moan, hips twitching forward on their own accord.

Phantom swallows thickly before releasing their cock. Only for a moment though. Only to spit into the palm of their hand. They grab it again in an instant, now properly stroking themselves. Their eyes stay glued to where the head peeks out from their fist with each downstroke in the mirror. More pre pearls at the tip, making it shine in the low light of their bedroom. Little wet noises begin to fill the space as they tug faster and faster at their cock.

They whine, stomach churning with pleasure. They pull their lip between their fang, biting down when their dick throbs hard. The coil twists tighter and tighter until finally it snaps. They curse as they cum, white hot ropes shooting all over their mirror. They try to stroke themselves through it, try to milk themselves for everything they have, but their brain feels like it is far above their body. All they can do is twitch and writhe as their orgasm works its way through them.

Their chest heaves as they begin to come down. They meet their reflection’s gaze, eyes half lidded. A lopsided grin spread across their face and they begin to laugh, “it really did fucking work.”

They almost cannot believe it even though their cum is cooling on the mirror right in front of them. They did it. They were able to take organic matter and change it. Manipulate it into what they want. It is almost too good to be true. Though, it just might be. As their head starts to clear they remember why Omega’s been so hard about their training recently. Nothing they make sticks. It lasts for a few hours at most and then reverts back.

Which means their time with a dick is severely limited.

Which means they need to make the most of it. They need to jack off until they are crying and cumming dry.

The thought of finding someone to use as a hole for the next few hours does cross their mind, but they are stupid not reckless. If one person finds out then the whole den might as well know. And if the whole den knows then Omega will know. Omega cannot know. So their hand and maybe a pillow it is.

They are giddy as they bolt up to their feet, legs wobbling a little. They fling themselves back onto their bed, starfishing in the middle of it. Oh what memories should they use. Watching Rain get railed in the shower? When they were sandwiched between Cirrus and Cumulus? Taking Mountain’s knot for the first time?

Oh no. They got it. Watching Aether sub for Dew. That is always a good one.

They palm their still half hard cock, a scene flashing behind their eyes. Peaking through the crack in the closet. Aether on his knees at the edge of the bed. Dew with the leash pulled so tight. Burying his face between skinny thighs while he pulls at his hair. Phantom can almost hear the wounded little whimpers again. It is all so good.

Maybe too good.

They are so caught up in their little fantasy that they do not hear the footsteps approaching the door. Not until it swings open.

“How many fucking times have I told you don’t leave your clothes in the dry—“

Phantom jumps and yelps, quickly trying to cover themselves. But it is too late. Dewdrop already saw everything.

“Phantom. What the fuck.”

“It’s not what it looks like!”

“Really? Because it looks like there’s a fucking cock where your cunt should be.”

They stare at each other, Phantom chewing their lip as they try to figure out something to say. “Close the door,” they mutter and duck their head so their hair covers their face.

Dew must listen because they hear the door click shut along with the lock. Oh they feel like they are suffocating. No one was supposed to know. No one was ever supposed to know, not until Omega was done giving them lessons. It could be worse though. It could have been Swiss who walked in. At least with Dew there is a good chance this will just stay between them. Oh but how do they even begin explaining this? Their transmutation abilities have been kept secret so far.

Phantom opens and closes their mouth a few times before finally squeaking something out. “So it’s a funny story really…”

They immediately shut up when they feel weight settle on the bed. Right next to them. They lift their head and their stomach twists into infinite knots. Dew’s eyes are glowing, literally glowing. He does not even look at them. His gaze is trained where they are still trying to hide their dick from view.

“Let me see it.”

They swallow thickly. Oh what do they do? Maybe they should just slip into his mind and erase the memory. Well. No they cannot do that. Their quint is so unpredictable they could very easily fry Dew’s brain. Then they would have even more explaining to do. Oh Lords Below, but why does he want to see it?

“Phantom.” Dew’s tone leaves no more room for hesitation. Their hand drops to their side, leaving them completely exposed. Their tail twitches restlessly against the mattress as they fiddle with a loose thread. Their blush only deepens at the way Dew’s eyes rake up and down the new appendage.

What if he thinks it is weird?

They open their mouth to try and ease the silent tension with some type of explanation, but they choke on the words. Dew wraps a very warm hand around their cock. But not to stroke him. He just. Moves it around. Inspects every angle of it. Even uses his other hand to fondle their balls. Phantom squirms under the touch, biting the inside of their cheek to stop from whining for more.

“How?” Dew asks as he tries to carefully pull back their foreskin. He still is not looking at them. Only their dick.

“I…it’s a long story. Weird quint magick stuff.” How are they expected to think with such a pleasant warmth around them?

Dew hums and gives the base a squeeze, “Always been able to do this?”

“No,” they swallow, “not until recently. Really recently. Like. Like this is the first time ever.”

For the first time since coming into their room, Dew’s expression shifts. His eyebrows shoot to his hairline and he finally looks at Phantom. “This is your first time with a dick?”

They nod, lip pulled between their fang. They can see the information process in Dew’s mind. A devilish little grin spreads across his face and it makes their insides jump.

“You know you did a good job,” he begins to thumb up and down the soft ridges, “you made such a pretty little cock.”

“Th…thank you?” Oh they are going to explode. They are already fully hard again and Dew’s hand is so hot. It feels so good. So much better than their own, even if the touches are minimal.

His thumb oh so casually slips to the underside of the head. Phantom hisses, sucking air through their teeth involuntarily as white hot pleasure bolts down their spine. “Tested it out yet?”

“Dew—“

“Oh I know you did. Room fucking reeks of Lust,” he swipes the pad of his thumb over their slit to gather little dribbles of pre, “bet it wasn’t good though. How could it be when you don’t know your way around a cock?”

Phantom wants to argue. It actually felt amazing thank you very much. They know how to jerk off, they do it all the time. But every possible thought evaporates under the heat of Dew. Lords Below, how can they be expected to defend themselves when he is looking at them like he is going to eat them. Oh but they want to be eaten. They want to be devoured just so they can keep feeling his heat. The thought alone has their cock kicking in Dew’s hand.

He coos, “Look. It knows what it wants. I’m sure it wouldn’t mind some help.” Before Phantom can even choke out a response, Dew dips his head and kisses the sticky tip. His tongue darts out, swiping over the slit to really get a taste. They both moan, though Phantom sounds like they got punched in the gut. Fuck if they thought his hands were hot, it is nothing compared to his mouth.

Their hips buck up trying to chase it. They need more, so much more. They hiss as the tip pushes past Dew’s lips only to scrape against his teeth. With a grip like iron, Dew pins their hip to the mattress with one hand. He pulls back just enough to speak, hot breath ghosting over flushed skin. “Do you want to feel good?”

They blink at him dumbly for a moment, mind like honey. When the words process, they nod so quickly it is shocking there is not a crack. “More than anything.”

“Then you better fucking hold still.” His claws tease their flesh, eyes glued to theirs as he waits for their compliance. Again, they nod rapidly. They will do anything he wants if it means feeling more of his hot, wet tongue.

“Good boy,” Dew praises. In an instant he is back on them. He does not take it slow though, he swallows them all the way down to the base with no warning. Phantom keens, claws tearing at their blanket to stop themselves from fucking up into his throat. Sparks of quint crackle over their skin, mind momentarily shutting down as every sense is consumed by Dewdrop.

Everything feels like it is on fire, burning lava coursing through their veins. Hot coals sit at the base of their spine, only glowing brighter when Dew hollows his cheeks and swallows around their cock. Tears prick the corners of their eyes. They do not understand why everything is so much more sensitive like this. Phantom is not exactly a ghoul that is hard to get off, but this is fast even for them.

But Dew just feels so good. His mouth is so hot and so soft and the way he flicks his tongue against the little ridges has Phantom’s balls tightening. Their head snaps up from the pillow as they feel him start to pull off though. A zap of panic runs through their body. They think if he stops now they will actually fall over dead.

Dew does not. He pulls off just until the tip is resting in his mouth. He looks up at Phantom through his lashes. Let’s them sit with that cute little confused expression for just a moment longer and then begins to suckle at the head of their cock. A litany of curses and Dew spills from their mouth. They cannot think of anything else. All they know is his heat. All they know is the burning in their belly is too much.

An overly warm hand sneaking between their legs to cup and palm their balls is what does it. Their hands fly up, tangling in Dew’s hair. Pushing him down and holding him there as they spill hot and heavy down his throat. They choke out a broken moan, pleasure blindingly hot. For just a moment, the world is nothing but this. Darkness from their eyes screwed shut, ringing in their ears, and the heady scent of Lust.

Even when their eyes open again, they are not all there. They stare up at the ceiling, chest heaving and mind completely empty. Their arms flop to their side, allowing Dew to pull off them with an obscene pop. He crawls up beside them with a pleased little grin on his face, “You gonna make it?”

They blink a few times, spinning the words around in their mind trying to make sense of them. “No,” very slowly they turn their head to look at him, “what the fuck?”

“What?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard in my entire life. What the fuck.” Their brain feels like it is buzzing.

“Oh I’m sure I can top that.”

In their floaty state they do not quite process the undertone in Dew’s voice. They simply hum and lean into his warmth, burying their nose in his neck to breathe in his cinnamon and cigarette smell. Dew lets them practically lie on him. Easier to get his hands where he wants them that way. He gives them a moment to breathe, a moment for them to float in the post orgasm haze.

When he feels them start to go lax, his hands slide from Phantom’s waist to their hips. His fingertips brush through their sparse happy trail, movements slow and intentional. Each downward motion has him dipping further and further below the belt. All the while Phantom chuffs contentedly from the languid touches. That is, until calloused fingers graze the base of their cock.

“Dew?” They murmur against his skin.

He just hushes them and continues to skim down their cock, feeling over the ridges now that they are soft. The featherlight touches sends a shiver through Phantom’s entire body. They shift a little, pulling their head from his neck to look at him through their lashes.

“Dew?” They try again with a bit more force. Though force is generous. They sound more akin to a dog waiting for their treat to be dropped.

“What?” He almost sounds. Displeased. At Phantom questioning him.

“Sensitive.” They already came twice in close succession. The little touches are starting to border on uncomfortable. So why can they feel their cock chubbing up again?

“You’ll be fine. I told you I was gonna make you feel good. Still gotta do that.” He palms their dick with measured squeezes. Enough to get them hard, but not enough to actually be painful.

“I think cumming down your throat counts as feeling good,” they hiss through gritted teeth. It was good. But now it is starting to be too much. But…if they just make it through this initial overstimulation it will feel good again. Right?

“Oh come on. You really think one lousy blowjob is enough for you to feel good? Nah, I know what it really needs,” Dew drags a finger up to play with the head and Phantom chokes, “it needs a hole to fuck.”

Just the idea of putting their dick in Dew is enough for them to completely ignore the bite of pain. Lords Below if his mouth was that hot…

Dew is right. They will not feel good until they know what he feels like on the inside. Who knows the next time they will get this spell to work, they need to do this right here right now. They search for any quintessence not drained from the initial ritual. They do not need a lot. Just enough to get fully hard again.

Sparks of lavender jump from their skin, rippling across their scars. It makes their head feel fuzzy again, full of cotton instead of honey. It is like trying to squeeze water from a damp towel, searching for just a single drop. But they do it. In an instant, warmth blooms in their stomach and travels down to settle between their legs. Dew snickers feeling their cock suddenly fill out.

“Yeah I knew you wanted it.” He gives them a squeeze. Phantom’s lip twitches up into a smile, dusty little blush settling on their cheeks. With what little brain power they have left, they paw at Dew trying to get him to flip over. All their syrupy mind can think about is feeling the heat of Dew’s body around them. The sore muscles and the ache settling behind their eyes does not make it through the sea of molasses that is their consciousness.

Dew just pushes their hands away, “Now what did I say? I’m making you feel good. You too stupid to remember that?”

They pout, a quiet whine escaping from their throat. Dew just snickers before cooing, words almost sickeningly sweet, “Oh I know. That was so mean of me. I’ll make it up to you buggy.”

He untangles himself from their hold, using their shoulders to both push them flat on their back and to steady himself. He throws a skinny leg over their hips, moving to straddle them. He hovers over Phantom, tail lashing behind him in the air like a whip. Dew bends so their faces are only inches apart. Phantom nearly chokes on his cinnamon and cigarette scent, so strong when he is so close.

Dew presses a quick little kiss to the corner of their mouth as he snakes a hand behind him. He looks down at Phantom through half lidded eyes, fingers slipping between his cheeks. They watch slack jawed as Dew fingers himself open. They can barely see anything from this angle, yet they are absolutely mesmerized by the motion of his hand.

“Gonna feel so good, bug. Gonna be nice and tight and wet.” As he says this, a droplet of slick dribbles down his balls and onto Phantom’s stomach. Lords Below, they knew he used to be a water ghoul, but how can he be dripping? For them? It makes their cock kick hard where it lays heavy on the cut of their hip.

Dew huffs through his nose as he slides his fingers out of himself. He shifts his position, reaching down to hold Phantom’s dick in place. He sits on his knees, hovering right over them. They are so close to where they need to be. They can feel heat rolling off of him and all they want is to be burned by it. With what energy they have left, they try to thrust their hips up just to get any type contact. A pathetic attempt really. More of a twitch than a proper snap of hips.

Dew chuckles lowly, “Oh you poor thing. Here, let me help.”

He sinks down slowly, enough to let the head of their cock brush against his hole. But he does not get them inside. Not yet. He grinds on them, letting their dick slide between his cheeks. The way Phantom squirms makes his own neglected cock ache.

“Dew c’mon. Please. Can’t do this anymore. I need it.” Their hands shake as they reach out to grab his hips. They sound absolutely destroyed, a needy little whine to their voice. Mind and body completely overtaken with Lust.

“I know you do bug, I know,” he says in that same sickly sweet tone, “been such a good boy. I’ll give it to you.”

With the next slow roll of his hips, Dew lets the tip of their dick catch on his rim. It flutters around them, giving them a kiss before finally lowering himself. The noise Phantom makes when the tip slips inside sounds like a wounded animal. Dew is wetter than they could have possibly imagined, but Lords Below he is as hot as flame. And soft, he is so fucking soft. Warm and wet and soft.

If they were not gone before, they definitely are now. Dew might as well be squeezing around their brain as well as their cock. He huffs heavily through his nose as more and more of their length slides into him. All Phantom can do is watch as inch by inch their cock is swallowed by Dew’s body.

“Making a mess of yourself,” Dew hums before dragging his thumb through the line of drool at the corner of their mouth. He pushes his finger right past their lips, petting at their tongue at the same time they bottom out. They cannot even dutifully suckle on it like they normally do. Not with the molten pleasure that is pumping through their veins.

“You’re not even on this planet anymore, are you buggy?” Dew cocks his head like a cat studying a bird through the window.

They give a little Uhhuh as a response, slurred around the thumb still in their mouth. A few meager attempts to fuck up into him has Dew shoving his fingers further down their throat. Just the little bit of friction, even if it is sloppy and uncoordinated, pulls Dew from his usual need to toy and tease. The tug of the little ridges coldly reminds him that he is the first hole they will ever fuck. Just that though alone makes his own Lust blaze like an out of control wildfire.

He pulls his thumb out to swipe over their lips, smearing their saliva around. He watches their eyes fill with stars as they look up at him, desperately waiting for more of his touch.

Dew gives it to them.

He clenches hard around them, shoving his fingers to the back of their throat when their mouth drops open in a loud, wanton moan. They gag, but that only fuels Dew’s flame. He starts a steady rhythm, grinding in tight little circles. This seems to finally kick start Phantom’s brain, claws digging into his skin as their tongue laves over lithe fingers.

“Yeah there you go. Take it mm take what feels good.” Oh those little ridges are absolutely maddening. They rub at all the right places inside him with each roll of his hips. They truly made a perfect cock.

And all Dew wants to do is feel that perfect cock inside of him. He keeps his pace bordering on slow, languid hips rolls so every inch slides against his walls. But all Phantom wants to do is cum. Too lost in the haze of pleasure to really appreciate the feeling of being buried inside a body. They are caught in an internal push and pull, savor this moment or blindly give in.

Their hips twitching up to meet each one of Dew’s downstrokes says give in. Chase the high and spill every last drop into the hot clutch of his body. Lords Below but every drag against impossibly soft skin that pulls a noise unlike any other they have heard from Dew says pour quint into their own system until they pass out.

“This thing got a knot?”

The almost breathless sounding words are like ice to their honey coated mind. They can feel themselves throb inside of Dew and they are lucky they do not cum right then and there.

“No? Yes? I…I don’t know. Didn’t think that much about it when I hhmm ya know.”

“Sure feels like it does,” Dew says in that same breathless tone.

Phantom’s eyes blink open and they look up at him, confusion twisting the pleasure from their face. All Dew does is grin and squeeze around them. Lightning sparks through their entire system, vision momentarily going white from the pressure. The pressure. There is so much pressure.

“Whatthefuck?” It is like all the air has been punched from Phantom’s lungs.

“Wanna pop that pretty knot?” Dew firmly plants his hands on their chest, absentmindedly brushing his thumb over the scars there.

Their legs may shake, but they lift them to plant their feet firmly on the mattress. They finally give Dew a proper thrust and it catches him off guard. His eyelids flutter, a quiet, broken moan slipping past his lips.

A moment of stillness settles over them. They look at each other, eyes glazed. Flushed faces and sweaty hairlines. It is like an entire conversation passes between them, yet they barely even breathe.

Then everything happens in a flash. Dew picks up his movements again, only much quicker this time. Phantom settles into the rhythm, using the energy from their pleasure high to fuck up into him. Dew tosses his head back, eyes closing as he relishes in the feeling of Phantom. Like a dying sun, his hair fans in golden rays all around him and besides the desperate urge to tie them together with their knot, pretty pops into their mind.

He is so pretty. If any ghoul had to find them like this they are glad it was Dew. Gorgeous gorgeous Dewdrop who is so warm and so willing. So eager to take any cock presented to him. Absolutely perfect for Phantom, so desperate to please no matter what is between their legs.

They groan, head flopping back onto the pillow as the sound of skin slapping against skin drowns out Dew’s panting breaths. They babble, strings of curses the only coherent words.

“C’mon bug, I know you wanna. C’mon, mark me. Fucking. Fucking breed me.”

“Dew, no, oh shit—“ their mouth drops open in a choked off moan as their knot catches on his rim. His claws dig into their shoulders as their cum floods his body. Their hips twitch up as their orgasm wracks their body, fucking it deeper into him.

The ridges are so much harder now, pulling deliciously against his prostate. Just as Phantom finally begins to settle, Dew postures up. He stares down at them through half lidded eyes as his hand flies over his cock, pretty blush all the way to his collarbones now.

Phantom looks between him and where the tip peaks between his fist with every stroke. Breaths still heavy, they drop their mouth open, tongue lolling out. Oh that beautiful flash of pink is just enough for Dew. The first little spurt of cum pool in the hollow of their throat. The next streaks across their lips, dribbling onto their tongue. Phantom sighs when the taste of him hits them, licking up whatever they can.

Dew watches with a pleased little grin slowly spreading over his face. He swipes his fingers through the bits they cannot reach, more than happy to feed it to them so they get their fill. Phantom eagerly sucks at his fingers until there is nothing left.

With both as clean as they care to get right now, Dew flops down onto their chest. He tucks his head right under their chin, rusty little purr vibrating both of them. Phantom chuffs in return, immediately clinging to Dew like he will decide to get up and walk away. As if they are not tied together.

“So,” Dew starts once he catches his breath, “you got a dick like. Permanently now or…?”

“What did you like my pussy better?” Phantom grins against the top of his head. Meant as a joke, but there is a tug of real worry buried under the light tone.

But Dew just whacks their thigh with his tail, “No you asshole. Just curious how your freaky quint shit works.”

They blush a bit, “Yeah okay…uh no. Not forever. Spell is probably gonna end before my knot even has a chance to go down.”

Dew hums, “Well next time you decide to fuck around and find out you better come find me.”

Phantom’s grin turns more genuine. Next time. As long as it stays between them for now, they are happy to give Dew as many next times as he wants.

But as if the universe heard them, their phone buzzes from where it is on its charger on the nightstand. Phantom’s ear flicks at the noise and Dew grabs it knowing they will not stop thinking about it until they see what it is.

They both read the message at the same time.

Mr. Omega: You have some explaining to do little star. Take a shower and come to my room.

Dew cackles while all the color drains from Phantom’s face. “Dew what the fuck? What the fuck? How?”

“Ah c’mon it’s Omega. His freaky quint shit outdoes anyone else’s. But like be serious bug. The lights flickering, me going MIA, and your loud ass don’t make it that hard to piece together.”

They groan, ears drooping. “This spell better end before he decides to come stomping in here…wait what the heck do you mean lights flickering?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, before I came looking for you all the lights in the den flickered. Figured it was the wind but oh the actual answer was so much better.” He playfully whacks them with his tail and tosses a grin over his shoulder.

All they can do is groan again and bury their face in his hair as if that will save them from the embarrassment of this whole situation. Did Omega know from the start? Of course he would, he is fucking Omega. They cannot do anything without him knowing. Maybe it will be fine though. Maybe if the spell goes away they can come up with some other reason as to why it reeks of ozone and why the lights sparked.

Cause that will definitely work.

“Oh don’t worry. What’s the worst that could happen?” Dew begins to absentmindedly play with their fingers.

“He kills me,” their voice is muffled by Dew’s hair.

“Please. If he was gonna kill you he would’ve done it by now.”

They whine and wrap their tail around his thigh.

Dew sighs and brings their hand up to kiss their knuckles, "It'll be fine bug. Aeth used to screw around with his magick all the time when he was still new. Besides. If Omega tries to kill you I’ll set his office on fire.” That makes them smile. He can never say it, but they have learned to pick up on when Dew wants to say I love you. They really did luck out with him being the one to find them. Because Phantom knows no force can get between Dew and someone he loves.

#the band ghost #spicy tag #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #holy shit this is so fun #dew being a huge tease but also taking care of phantom so well is my favorite

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lilypadlys · 2 days ago

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All My Senses Getting Slower - Alpha/Omega

Pairing: Alpha/Omega Summary: When Alpha's rage becomes uncontrollable, a snarling, restless thing turning feral, Omega decides to step in. It isn't kind, but a controlling and brutal blend of care. A ritual of stripping down walls under a mask of restraint, power, and submission. It's not what Alpha thinks he wants, but it's what he needs.

Warnings: Dubious? quintessence use. It's consensual, but I guess it can read a bit dubious at times.

Word Count: 3.6k

Banners by @/cozykitsune / Huge thanks to @thymosghoul for bouncing ideas around for this <3

[AO3 Link] + Uncensored art.

Alpha was pacing when Omega walked in.

Restless movements, like a beast caged, trying to wear down the edges of a room that refused to get any smaller. A scowl was etched across his features, shoulders tight with barely contained aggression, jaw aching from the way it ground, trying to swallow down words and noises of irritation.

He had been more than a handful lately; snapping and snarling at anyone who had so much as looked at him wrong, and it wasn't long before he had left the others after the last harshly snapped insult, the door slamming behind him hard enough to crack the frame.

And now, it was just him and Omega. Behind closed doors.

"Lie on your front." Omega's words were calm, surgical, and Alpha stopped in his tracks, whipping around to face the taller ghoul, his eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"I won't say it again." Omega's tone didn't move, didn't rise, didn't need to, "On the bed. Now."

Alpha bristled, muscles tensed like he was ready to bite back and claw his way out of the moment on pride alone. He was never one to be told what to do, but Omega stilled. Waiting. Unblinking.

The silence that stretched between them was taut, sharp and dangerous.

Eventually, Alpha scoffed, rolling his neck until it cracked, "I'm not some rabid fucking animal for you t-"

"No," Omega cut in, "But you are out of control. And that's when we do this." It's factual, measured and certain in a way that only Omega could give, and Alpha's nostrils flared with an irritated exhale. His fists clenched as he stalked toward the bed with stiff limbs, throwing himself face-down across the mattress.

The quintessence ghoul sighed, sliding off his own shirt with a shrug, "I'm not undressing you myself." He tilted his head expectantly, and Alpha rolled his eyes, hauling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. His jeans came next, a harsh whisper of leather through loops as he unbuckled his belt and threw it and the jeans into a pile before flipping back over onto the bed.

"Fuckin' stupid," Alpha seethed into the sheets, voice muffled, tail flicking wildly behind him. But he stayed down, even as his chest heaved with the effort it took to stay there, to fight with his pride as it screamed at him to get back up and snarl back at Omega.

The sound of clinking metal and leather cutting through the air like a knife behind him made Alpha's ears twitch. Omega didn't speak; the silence was a pressure unto itself.

Alpha growled low in his throat, something to fill the quiet. He didn't move. Not really. A twitch in his shoulder. A subtle flex of muscle, another flick of his tail, fully prepared to resist whatever it was Omega had to offer.

"I didn't ask for this."

“No,” Omega replied, tone dry. “You never do. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”

Alpha snorted, low and derisive, into the sheets. “What I need is a fuckin’ drink and less of your smug ass breathing down my neck.”

Omega didn’t even blink, his voice coming cool and collected, “We can do this the easy way.”

“Oh yeah?” Alpha twisted slightly, just enough to glance over his shoulder—his mouth curled into a half-feral grin, teeth bared. “What’s that, too much effort breaking me in properly? Starting to show your age, old m-”

His response was a sharp slap to the back of his thigh with an open palm, firm, and Alpha flinched, hissing immediately through his teeth that broke into a grin, "Lucifer, you missed me, didn't you?"

Omega's lips pressed into a thin line, his eyebrows furrowing, "I missed discipline."

Alpha huffed a breath, an almost incredulous laugh biting through at the edges. "That’s why you’ve got me like this, huh? Flat on my belly like some goddamn wh—"

Another strike. Sharper. Higher. Alpha’s hips bucked against the mattress involuntarily, friction teasing against his already hard cock, and his fists curled into the sheets so tight his knuckles paled.

“That was your warning.”

Alpha smirked. “You give out more warnings than you do orgasms. It’s embarrassing, really—”

That time it was the belt – a clean, vicious arc through the air, cracking across the curve of Alpha's thighs, and he gasped, a strained fuck leaving his lips, body going taut beneath Omega like a wire turned live.

Omega leaned down, voice ghosting over the back of Alpha’s neck now, low and cruelly calm.

“Keep mouthing off. I want you to.”

It was as much a threat as a promise, and Alpha scoffed, jerking his head away from Omega. He knew how to play the game, and he wasn't done fighting yet.

“That all you got?” He ground it out, his smirk refusing to falter, even as his thighs twitched with need.

A sharp tut was all he had before cold hands slid under Alpha’s hips, dragging him up onto his knees, to force him into place. The click of a small bottle opening echoed off the walls before the press of slick fingers spread between his cheeks.

Alpha stiffened, choking back a sound as he tried to arch away, but Omega's grip on him was like iron, his hand pinning between his shoulder blades, flush to the mattress.

Another finger joined the first, slick and slow, deliberately pressing in, and Alpha hissed at the stretch, writhing beneath Omega's hands.

“Fuck you,” Alpha hissed, throat raw.

“You’re trying,” Omega murmured, curling his fingers just right, watching with faint amusement at the way Alpha bit into his lip, trying to stifle the sound that threatened to escape.

Though he always had more in him, more rage, more venom to spit. Submission wasn't something that Alpha gave freely, and tonight was no different.

Omega knew this. Anticipated it even.

So when Alpha started shifting again—shoulders bunching, arms bracing to push himself up off the bed—Omega pressed his hand firmer into his spine. He said nothing, but that was warning enough.

Alpha growled low in his throat, face half-buried in the sheets, but shoved up anyway—elbows planting beneath him as he tried to twist, to get some purchase to throw Omega off him.

“You love this,” he snarled, trying to push himself up again, “having me like this. Pinned and pretty and full of your fuckin' control complex.”

“You’re projecting again,” Omega clipped, withdrawing his fingers with a slick sound that made Alpha shudder. “And exhausting my patience.”

The belt was back in Omega's hands before Alpha had realised he'd moved.

By the time Alpha twisted again, a futile attempt to roll and shove himself up, Omega's hands had already grabbed onto his wrists and yanked them back. The belt wrapped once, twice, tightly around, pinning Alpha's wrists to the small of his back, the leather biting into the skin with a satisfying creak.

"Hey—" Alpha bucked hard, thrashing under him, but restrained as he was, his hips already loose and dripping with slick, it was a poor effort, "Fuckin' cheap shot!"

“Effective,” Omega corrected, palm pressed flat between Alpha’s shoulder blades to force him down again. “And overdue.”

Alpha snarled, breath coming in rapid, shallow bursts, teeth bared against the mattress. He didn't have a comeback for that, not with the leather edges of the belt biting into his wrists, his hips instinctively seeking friction beneath him, his whole being a mix of ragged want and fury all tangled up.

“I can make you submit.”

A thinly veiled threat laced through Omega's words, smoothly wrapping around Alpha like a scalpel to the throat.

Alpha stilled; A full-body hesitation, an instinct that told him that something far more dangerous than him had looked his way, but he kept up the fight.

"You don't scare me," His words were spat around breathless pants, his wrists still bound tightly behind him, cheek pressed firmly into the mattress.

"I don't have to." Omega's tone was flatter than ever, uncaring and detached, almost distant.

The glow came next, a soft whisper at first, barely perceptible in the dim light, but Alpha felt it long before he saw it. A low, low hum of quintessence, vibrating at the base of his spine, a frequency he couldn't name but felt deeply in his bones.

Omega let it bloom just above Alpha’s spine, fingers trailing along the ridges of vertebrae as a breath of light flickered to life, cool and violet.

Alpha shivered.

“That little chip on your shoulder,” Omega murmured, and with a flick of his fingers, let a thread of quintessence unfurl, slipping like smoke across Alpha’s skull, wrapping around his consciousness like a breath. Just a brush. A tease. A hand ghosting against the edge of his mind.

Alpha gasped.

It felt as though every muscle in his body went liquid—like his spine melted into the bed, his hips slackened, and his breath hitched with a desperate, guttural sound.

And just as quickly, it stopped.

Omega drew the quintessence back, snuffed it out like a match. "That was your second warning."

Alpha inhaled sharply as the sensation returned to his limbs, legs twitching from the sudden loss flooding back through his muscles. His shoulders shook with a rumble of laughter pulled deep within his chest, but it wasn't amusement. "Megs," he breathed, "'M gonna bite your fuckin' fingers off."

"You'll try." Omega retorted, palm sliding down from the back of his neck with deliberate care to his touch, "But now you know that if I wanted you at my mercy, I wouldn't have to touch you."

He curled his body over Alpha's, leaning down until his lips brushed the shell of his ear. "Now, let's do this the hard way, since that's clearly what you want."

It wasn’t in Alpha’s nature to go quietly, to not snap, not bite back with some degree of snark. Every fibre of him had always screamed defiance—fists clenched even when he was tied down, fangs bared through every gasp, body straining against the sheets, struggling to rise even when it had no leverage.

Omega had expected resistance.

The tease of quintessence hadn’t cowed him. It had lit a fire in him.

And Omega saw it all unfold in the line of Alpha’s back as he twisted under him, as he snapped his hips back just enough to be difficult—just enough to say, loud and clear, that he wasn't something to be owned and controlled.

Omega exhaled through his nose.

“You make this so hard,” he murmured, tone still infuriatingly steady, “And you wonder why I don’t give you choices.”

A snap of his fingers.

The violet glow returned.

Alpha snarled something guttural, but it didn’t last.

The quintessence touched him again, not just a wisp this time but a pulse, directly against his skull. Enough to press into the higher parts of his mind, enough to mute his thoughts, short-circuiting his grip on movement, on language, and on the frantic need to resist.

Alpha’s voice died mid-curse, and his eyes fluttered to half-closed, lips parted, but no sound came from them.

His body went slack, boneless like a puppet with its strings cut. Everything furious and sharp within him folded down in an instant.

Omega moved carefully, testing. His hands sliding down Alpha’s waist, over the backs of his thighs. No struggle. Just the soft rise and fall of his breath.

A thread of Alpha’s presence twitched at the edges of Omega’s mind like a faint knock on a door, instinctive and subtle. It wasn’t a safe word. Wasn’t fear. Just awareness. An option if things got too much.

“Better,” Omega muttered, sliding his palm along the base of Alpha’s spine. “Now… we start again.”

Omega was never particularly nice about it, but he wasn't cruel either. He knew what Alpha needed, knew that he needed the fight torn from him piece by piece, needed to feel the breath shoved from his lungs, the sting of being handled, used, remade. He didn’t say it. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

He didn't ask for permission; he didn't need to. It was a long-standing agreement between them both, and so he pushed in.

Skin met skin and hips pressed flush as Omega set a brutal pace, a punishing rhythm that wasn't meant to please, only tear and break Alpha apart.

Alpha was a mess; breathing ragged, hair plastered to his temples, lip split from biting too hard, even under the throes of quintessence. Omega could never fully drag him under; he was too strong, too stubborn for that.

But the way Omega drove into him was desperate and deep, relentless, giving Alpha no time to reset, no space to think.

And that was the point.

Omega knew what he needed.

“Come on,” Omega muttered under his breath, sweat slicking down his spine. “Give it up. Let it go.”

Alpha shook his head once; it was as much as he could manage under the quintessence, even as a strangled moan left his throat, even as his knees slipped against the sheets. He was still trying to hold on to the rage flowing under his skin with a familiarity he shouldn't have had.

So Omega took more.

One hand pressed down hard between his shoulder blades. The other snuck around to wrap a fist around him, but he paused.

Do you want out?

The thought pulsed gently through the link threaded between them—not a voice, but a knowing, carved into the quiet space between breaths. A failsafe. Always.

The answer came not as a word but as a slow, sure thread of sensation. Consent, whispered back at him. Alpha wasn’t backing out.

He just couldn’t speak.

Omega had him balanced on a knife's edge, and he knew it.

He could feel it, every twitch and frustrated clench of muscle, every shallow breath that Alpha couldn't quite form into a growl. The quintessence simmered, low and steady through Alpha's mind; a cool, almost silken restraint that silenced his tongue and left him boneless but still fully, agonisingly aware.

It was about control as much as denial as Omega had him bent forward. Time had blurred; minutes stretched into what felt like hours, and Omega's hand, deliberately cruel, kept Alpha teetering on the edge, teasing the underside of his length with infuriating slowness, thumb brushing over the ladder of piercings that decorated him.

Every maddening stroke brought Alpha higher, closer, and every pause ripped him back down.

Alpha was panting now, gasping against the sheets as his body wracked with need, hips jerking helplessly though he couldn't move far. Not with Omega's quintessence wrapped so tightly, tethered and keeping everything just out of reach.

"You're annoyed," Omega observed mildly, his voice little more than a measured hum against the shell of Alpha's ear. "You hate being handled, not being able to burn everything inconvenient away." Alpha tried to jerk his head away, maybe to glare, maybe spit something vile back through clenched teeth, but he couldn't as the quint continued. "Hate not getting what you want like a petulant child."

Omega smiled, almost fond.

"Good," he murmured, grip tightening again around Alpha's cock, just enough to bring him back to the precipice. The tip flushed, a deep red, almost purpling, a bead of pre dripping down Omega's wrist, "That means it's working."

Alpha’s response was little more than a guttural, strangled growl in the back of his throat. His hips bucked again, a sharp, involuntary motion—and Omega rewarded him with nothing.

He stopped. Let his hand fall away. Let the tension stew.

And Alpha’s whole body trembled, the denial pushing a groan out of him that sounded like a threat and a plea all at once.

“Impatient.”

It was spoken through lips pressed thin, and Omega's hand resumed that agonisingly slow pace, dragging from base to tip with a long glide and tight twist at the end that pulled a guttural noise from Alpha's throat. A choked noise that bent into a snarl before being smothered back down by the quiet control of the quintessence humming in his mind.

"All that fire with nowhere to go," Omega whispered, tone cruelly fond. “But it's what you need. And you know that.”

He punctuated his words with another sharp squeeze, just under the head.

And there it was.

The moment.

The fracture.

The split-second drop in Alpha’s defences, barely perceptible; the stubborn tension in his shoulders gave way. His fists, clenched hard in the restraints, loosened slightly, head bowing and spine curving as though the submission had finally started to seep through the cracks.

Omega felt it. Not just in Alpha’s body, but in the tethered thread of thought beneath the quintessence’s pulse. The fight was still there—always would be—but it was softening under the weight of need. Of exhaustion. Of something more raw.

He was giving in.

Not broken.

Bent.

Omega loosened his hold on the tether—not all the way, but just enough.

Alpha gasped, jaw tight, the glow still crawling along the base of his skull like a living thing. He tried to shift, but his body still felt too heavy. His hips bucked uselessly, every inch of him on fire and getting no closer to relief.

“Go on,” Omega said softly, mouth brushing the corner of Alpha’s jaw as he curled over him again. “You’ve got just enough. Make it count.”

Alpha growled low in his throat—more frustration than defiance now—and clenched his fists where they strained against the belt, the rough leather biting into sore flesh.

He didn’t want to say it. Satanas, he didn’t. The words scraped his pride raw, the ache too much. His cock throbbed where Omega still lazily stroked him, slow and mean, almost absentmindedly, a rhythm designed to ruin.

So he swallowed it down. And it dragged from his throat like glass.

“Please,” he rasped.

It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t smooth. It was punched out of him like it hurt to say.

“Fuckin’—'megs, please—”

He broke off in a grunt, hips twitching. His whole body trembled with the effort of holding on and failing.

Omega smiled softly.

"There you are," His hand picked up again—stroking, firmer now, with a pace that made Alpha’s head drop and his breath stutter. Slick noises filled the space between them, obscene and wet. “Now you can come.”

Omega felt the exact moment Alpha tipped—felt it in the jagged tremor that ran from his spine to his fingertips, in the way his entire body locked up, taut as a wire drawn to snapping.

And just as that final breath hitched—

The quintessence snapped free like a bolt of lightning ungrounded, the weight of it vanishing in an instant, leaving Alpha’s senses blown wide open. Every touch, every breath of air across his skin, amplified—too much, not enough, all at once.

He shattered.

A sound tore out of his throat—half-gasp, half-sob—as his body jerked in Omega’s grip, cock pulsing violently in his hand, and he came hard, long and hot across Omega’s fingers, the sheets, messy and uncontrolled with each wave that crashed over him.

Nothing existed but the white-hot rush of release and Omega’s body pressed over his—steady and grounding as his thighs trembled, the rest of him reduced to twitching, ragged breaths, hands still bound but limp in the restraints.

Wrecked, undone in the most complete, visceral way he’d ever known.

Warm fingers brushed Alpha’s hair back from his forehead as the tremors slowed. He was still shaking. Still reeling.

But now, he was quiet.

Still.

Unmoving in the aftermath, his muscles slack, breath sharp and uneven. The fight had been dragged out of him; every shard of tension melted down to nothing.

Omega moved carefully.

The belt came first, the leather loosened with precision, fingers following to rub lightly at Alpha's wrists once they were freed, gentle despite everything. He checked for damage, strain, a soft tut leaving his lips at a split of skin where Alpha had pulled too hard. But Alpha didn't flinch, didn't speak.

Didn’t need to.

Omega stood, padding quietly into the ensuite before returning with a warm bowl of water, a cloth in hand. He sat back down, the bed dipping with a whispered creak, and began to work with the same clinical efficiency Alpha had seen time and again over the years. Soft swipes were laid out over his stomach, between his thighs, and across his flushed, oversensitive length that twitched weakly under the touch.

Alpha, sprawled now on his side, let himself be moved and adjusted, his head pillowed on Omega’s thigh while those same practised fingers smoothed over the mess of him, quiet and unflinching.

Omega was mumbling now, half to himself, half to Alpha, but it wasn't cold anymore, merely wry and smoothed with something close to care.

“Your temper’s a terrible thing,” he said softly, folding the cloth away. “Violent. Unyielding. Unproductive.”

Alpha’s eyes stayed closed. He exhaled through his nose. Not resistance. Not yet an agreement. Just… listening, relaxing under the lack of tension that he'd had torn from him. His mind was quiet now, a calm sea after a storm.

Omega kept talking as he worked, fingers stroking over the ridges of Alpha’s knuckles, grounding him gently back into his body.

“You don’t know how to rest when it’s like that. When everything’s caught fire inside you. So you fight. Or lash out. Or break something. Or someone.”

He reached into the bedside table, plucking a small tin of ointment from the drawer. It smelt of something soft, herbal, and he dipped two fingers into it, rubbing it into an oil before smoothing it over Alpha's wrists.

“So we tear it all down,” he continued, “until there’s nothing left, no more room for rage. Just this.”

Omega returned the tin to the drawer and leaned back down, pressing his forehead lightly to Alpha’s temple.

“I’ll keep doing that for you,” he murmured, “as long as you need it.”

#the band ghost #spicy tag #alpha/omega #IM GONNA SCREAM FOREVER #no cause this is so fucking hot but also so sweet at the end #im having really big feelings (good ones of course) that i can't put into words #i just really love this

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