sageofthestarz

[sageofthestarz]

I finally got around to watching the Ghoul Bangers Ball thing and I heard Percy talk for the first time and im-

[sageofthestarz]

Frost has a bite

Kinktober day 3: Temperature play

Rating: Explicit

Relationship(s): Alpha/Omega

Words: 614

Tags: Exhibitionism, public sex, Omega gets head in a seedy bar bathroom, blowjobs, handjobs, temperature play, Alpha and Omega bickering like always, old man yaoi

Read on ao3 or below the cut

Alpha had a magic touch. 

Those two rough hands could bring a sane man to their knees, and while Omega was on his feet he still found himself dangling precariously between heaven and hell with those fingers wrapped around the girth of his cock. Fraying the rope that held him further with every slow stroke. With one he gripped him at the base, a tight circle that might as well have been the noose being looped around his neck, and the other kept a torturous pace, smiling devilishly all the while. 

Omega knew he was being led straight to hell and was helpless to stop it, the heat of Alpha’s hands made him certain of it. Not hot but warm - warm enough to flush the whole of his cock a pretty shade of pink, the head fully reddened as it began to drip onto the tile before the kneeling fire ghoul. 

“You’re horrible.” He hissed through his teeth, fingers flexing at his sides, nails scratching at the wall behind him. “Hurry up, I’m going to be late.”

“I’m trying to do somethin’ nice Megs, bruising my knees on this dirty floor for you, and I haven’t gotten a lick of gratitude.” Alpha didn’t look up at him, tone beyond dismissive. He squeezed him at the base again and dragged the circle up the length, curving his dick upwards. 

“Well your timing is ter-terrible.” His growl wavered when Alpha kissed at the place his shaft met his sack, the small puff of air as he laughed sent a shudder running through him. “I’ll be thankful when you shut up and get on with it. Do something a little more useful with your mouth.” 

“Oh c’mon baby, I know you can ask nicely.” Another kiss just below the head, tapping it against his lips for good measure. He knew just how to play him, Omega practically drooled over the sight of his cock laid out on his handsome face. “Go on.” 

“Fucking hell, Al. Blow me or get out of the way and I’ll get myself off.” 

Alpha rolled his eyes. 

Somehow Omega missed the coy way Alpha smiled until it was too late, the evil beast - he lived up to his role as a creature of something unholy. Wisps of steam escaped his parted lips as he laved his tongue along the vein on the underside of his shaft and Omega responded bodily. His eyes just about bulged out of his head, broad frame shivering like something delicate. Accustomed to him and his hellish hands, Omega’s body was running hot, he’d been expecting Alpha’s mouth to mirror his touch but it was far from it. 

His mouth fell open, head hitting the wall. The wires in his brain fizzled out, crossing and tangling as conflicting sensations assaulted his nerves. 

The fire ghoul pinned his hips to the wall and sunk down his length till the tip of his nose bumped against his belly, burying his cock into the uncharacteristically cold embrace of his throat, dragging a pitched gurgled sound out of his typically well spoken mate. Reduced to confused, guttural sounds that echoed shamefully off the bathroom walls, growing in volume as Alpha began to lazily bob his head. 

“T-That’s why you, fuck, were asking the bartender for ice chips all night?!” Omega pulled his palm down his face, brow furrowing. “You were planning this shit, oh I can’t fucking stand you.”

He sat back on his heels, pulling off of him with a loud pop and a grin, taking him back in his hands which felt damn near scalding in comparison.

”Mist’s idea, don’t be mad at me darling dearest. I simply follow orders.” 

[sageofthestarz]

For fear that you'll find out (I'm imagining you)

Kinktober day 7: Hate sex/Quintnosis

Rating: Explicit

Relationship(s): Aether/Dewdrop

Words: 1,820

Tags: Quintnosis, hate sex (sorta), irresponsible and unintended use of quintessence, dubious consent, sexual fantasies, aggressive making out, dirty talk, degradation, Aether's got some morally dubious internal dialogue, shame

Read on ao3 or below the cut

Heated emotions had outweighed rational thought when Aether seized the water ghoul by the arm and spun him around before he could reach the door. He hadn’t grabbed him with any sort of plan in mind, just a growl rattling in his chest. Dew tried to jerk away but Aether held him firm enough there’d be bruises muddying his pale skin. He’d hissed but the sound died when his back hit the door a little too hard. Aether often forgot his own strength but this had been intentional. 

Months.

Aether had put up with Dew and his infuriating behavior for fucking months. He had considered himself a patient man before his summoning but Dew had seemingly been sent by the unholy father to test that belief—a test he’d failed the second he laid hands on him. Could only bite his tongue for so long. Up until that moment he had been dutifully playing the role of the bigger person, refusing to give Dew the reaction he apparently craved but something about this little water ghoul cracked his resolve. 

It was a miracle he’d lasted that long at all but he’d reached the limit, Aether couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

He hadn’t grabbed Dew with any real intention. Maybe to scare him. Maybe finally lay into him about his shitty attitude. He could say with confidence he never meant to grab him by the collar and kiss him but that was exactly what he’d done. 

Aether had kissed Dew like he sought to snuff out the belligerent defiance within him. Like he could bruise the lesson of ‘stop fucking with me’ into his lips. If anything, he’d force Dew to taste the depths of his frustrations. 

Dew squawked when Aether’s mouth pressed to his, startled sound muffled into a kiss fueled by something violent. It certainly tasted like it was—the faint metal taste teasing the tip of his tongue. His lip was a casualty to Aether’s unfiled fangs. The water ghoul had tried to shove him away with as much force as his little body could muster but Aether was bigger. He tried to pull back but he was pressed to the door, stuck between a rock and a hard place. All he could do was clutch at the front of his uniform.

Another disgruntled noise died off in his throat, breath hitching when Aether licked over his bottom lip. He hesitated. Tension brought his shoulders towards his ears. Made him hold Aether tighter. Uncertainty turned his scent sharp but the unmistakable smell of sea salt pervaded the air to overshadow it entirely. Another swipe over the seam of his mouth and Dew jolted. His death grip on starched fabric started to go loose as his lips reluctantly parted to allow him inside.

Collar released, Aether’s big hands settled on the sides of his neck, tips of his fingers pressing into the ticklish baby hairs at the nape before one slid fully into silky pale hair. It was as soft as it looked. Easy to pull himself through, easier to get a hold of. He didn’t plan on pulling, but so far ‘plans’ were not working out for Aether. It was up in the air if he would, if Dew deserved it or not.

Dew had become surprisingly pliant with so little fight. Aether expected to be torn to shreds but Dew made absolutely no moves to do so. No more sounds of protest, just a single little whine that made something in Aether’s brain itch. Whatever Dew was doing couldn’t exactly be considered kissing back. His lips were barely moving. Really just allowing Aether to take.

Cheek pressed to the smooth cool wood, his arm twisted further in an odd uncomfortable angle behind his back, face screwing up. His gills fluttered with his labored groan, the bigger ghoul forcing him to deepen the already exaggerated arch of his spine. The worn pads of thick fingers circled over the ring of muscle, barely pushed against it. Just enough to feel the resistance. 

”Fuckin’ water ghouls…Freaks, the lot of ya, Ifrit was right.” Aether chuckled against the shell of his ear, ice water dripping down his spine. “You get wet like this arguing with me, puddle? I see why it’s all you do.” 

“It’s not—Stop it.” He whimpered sadly as Aether pressed the tip of his middle finger inside of him. A small preview of the stretch he’ll feel. Despite his objection his little cock kicked between his thighs, pearling at the tip. 

“That’s not what you want, froggy.” He cooed, nipping at his fin to make him yip. “Not what that cute little thing wants either.” The spade of his tail trailed up his inner thigh sending goosebumps rippling over him, point tickling against the seam of his balls as it continued to drift along the underside of his dick. 

He shuddered, eyes threatening to roll back as Aether worked deeper inside of him. Barely finished with one finger before he was forcing in another despite the wounded sound and the way he struggled, immediately searching for that spot that would send him keening and finally shut him up.

”Quit the crocodile tears, I know you’ve taken more than this. Know you’ve let Mountain and Ifrit have you again, and again, and again—“ Aether pressed into it and his knees wobbled, petting over it in time with his accusation. “Take it like a good boy.”

”Oh s-shit, fuck, too thick. Hurts.” 

The quint ghoul laughed meanly. Close to cruel, something he was not often. He started to scissor his fingers in an action that bordered on torturously slow. Savoring how he wept, pained and pleasured but purely wrecked sounds ripped out of him. 

“Bitching this much on just my fingers, how’re you gonna take my cock froggy?”

”Your…No, no, Aether, it’s gonna-“

”Gonna what? Break you? Oh, Dewdrop, I’m just plannin’ on getting you nice and used to this cock.” His tongue flicked out and licked his gills open in a quick motion, grinning against his neck as he choked on his breath. 

He whispered into his opened throat in a way that felt equally hot and disturbing. “Not gonna want anyone else after I’m done,” a third finger to emphasize his point. “Ooooh no you won’t…Mountain and Ifrit won’t be able to satisfy you when I’m done, gonna have you crawling back for it.”

His mouth dropped open, helpless to the way Aether absolutely set to unravel him by rubbing circles into his prostate. He knew he was dripping down his wrist.

”So grit your teeth baby boy, I’ll teach you how to love the pain.”

Aether broke away from Dew abruptly, threads of saliva stretching and snapping between them. It felt like being submerged into molasses and then doused with ice water. He almost couldn’t process what he’d seen, what Dew was hiding behind the apparent act of disdain. It didn’t make sense. He had a plethora of questions and a couple of accusations but the water ghoul met his apparent shock with drooping, glassy eyes. His lips parted, kissed cherry red and sucked puffy. He looked fucked out but most notably, he appeared vacant. 

He’d have asked what the fuck was wrong with him if the answer was not staring him in the face. Specks of violet floating in the pale waters of his eyes. Flower petals drifting in a whirlpool, swirling and dancing before disappearing behind the blown out voids of his pupils. 

Alarm bells sounded in his head, confirming to him he had indeed fucked up. 

Now, not distracted by the taste of honey on Dew’s tongue, he could feel the magic seeping from him. Tendrils outstretched and invasive. Burrowed where they did not belong in the depths of Dew’s subconscious, showing Aether images not meant for his eyes. This had never happened before. Quintessence was still new to him and like an untrained animal, he had difficulty keeping it leashed. In his fit not only did rationality escape him but control as well. 

Still holding Dew’s now lolling head up, Aether shifted his fingers to his temples but paused. It was his turn to hesitate in acting. He simply tipped his face up towards him and stared at the water ghoul’s dreamy expression. Dew was…Pretty, a fact easy to forget when all he did was behave like literal hell spawn. He was prettier with the quintessence threatening to consume the blue in his eyes. Thinking too hard about that image made his pants uncomfortably tighter. 

He shook his head. Rid himself of the thought enough to focus on the act of unweaving himself from the inner workings of Dew’s brain without dislodging anything important. Omega had always told him to leave things how he found it after all. Withdrawing was harder than entering. Backtracking through a maze. It was like Dew’s subconscious didn’t want to let him or his influence go—too content to be suspended in the warm fuzzy feeling, like he never wanted Aether to give him autonomy back. 

Aether hissed through his teeth. He should have felt sick with himself for the thought's existence alone, let alone the fact he’d deigned to entertain it. Part of him did. Something darker coiled around him with the promise of satisfaction but Aether stuffed it down. Focused himself. 

Dew blinked dumbly at him as the quintessence released its hold on him. He could watch clarity trickle back in. Artificial bliss quickly turned to a dazed sort of confusion.

“Uhn-huh…?” 

His gaze flicked left to right and finally landed on Aether’s face. “You.” Dew’s eyes widened and narrowed in quick succession, tone rightfully critical. Couldn’t miss the pink dusting and darkening his cheeks though. He shoved at Aether again, Aether allowed Dew the distance this time. “Keep your hands off me, and stay the fuck out of my head.” 

Like that, Dew stormed out. Slammed the door so hard it rattled in its frame. 

Aether however was stuck in his own stupor, heart hammering violently in his chest. Scenes replayed in his head. He couldn’t stop them if he tried. Literal fucking brain worms that had him shamefully chubbing up. Shame barely covered it. He should have been mortified, more so when his hand wandered south to press against himself through his zipper. 

It all made sense to him now. 

Dew had wanted a reaction the whole time, just not the reaction Aether thought. Little shit had aimed to break his patience and hoped Aether would break him in turn. He was a fucking pervert if Aether ever saw one—and maybe he wasn’t any better, stood stupefied and embarrassingly hard, stroking himself blatantly in the middle of the room with his gaze fixed on the door. Couldn’t stop himself from picturing Dew there, the way he’d imagined himself at Aether’s mercy. 

If that was what Dew wanted, he’d teach him the lesson he’d apparently craved to learn.

[sageofthestarz]

Milk & Honey

Kinktober day 8: HFO (hands free orgasm)

Rating: Explicit

Relationship(s): Phantom/Dewdrop

Words: 3,382

Tags: Shame, so much shame, hands free orgasms, adult breastfeeding, lactation, male lactation, dacryphilia, sweet sex, Phantom's a little devious though

Heeeey- remember when I said i'd get around to finishing kinktober? guess what time it is!

Read on ao3 or below the cut

In the dark, sleep struggled to find him. 

Phantom laid, staring holes through the ceiling of his hotel room like maybe the secret to slumber was hidden in the swirling plaster patterns above him. His tail hung swinging lazily over the edge of the mattress, spade skimming atop the carpet as he listened to the equally restless city buzzing just outside the window. More and more with every city they passed through Phantom grew to miss the quiet days on the ministry grounds. There was nothing quite like it, or the perfectly unlit sky shimmering with thousands of stars that he now found to be overshadowed by blinding city lights and neon signs. 

He didn’t know how Dew could sleep like this, how any of them managed to get any rest hopping from hotel to hotel every night astounded him. 

Turning his head, Phantom looked to the other bed on the other side of the room and frowned. Covers kicked off, Dew’s chest rose and fell in uneven little huffs. The bathroom light, left on with the door barely cracked at Dew’s insistence, split a sliver of yellow across the room and made the sweat on his skin glisten. Strands of red hair let loose from the elastic it had been contained in plastered to his forehead, curled at his temple. 

Dew shifted in his sleep and Phantom could finally see the little furrow in his brow, the flush to his cheeks. His frown deepened with concern at the hurt sound one of Dew’s snores dissolved into. 

With his mind no longer wandering and his senses fully accounted for, Phantom noted the distinctly different scent mingling into the familiar smoke and cinnamon. Sweeter than the almost apple pie-like smell that clings to the fire ghoul during his heats. Vanilla-y, close to cake frosting. It made him acutely aware of his empty stomach. Phantom took a mental note to annoy Aurora to hunt down cinnamon rolls before they got on the bus in the afternoon. 

Abruptly, Dew bolted upright with a choked off groan that could have been anywhere between pained and pleased. Whatever hair hadn’t escaped his elastic was freed by the sudden movement. His orange eyes glowed like dying embers being stoked back to life as he heaved with each breath, flicking wildly to and fro until they looked down and bristled. He folded his arms over his chest, shoulders drawing up to his pinned back ears as he struggled to free himself from the apparent bindings of starchy hotel sheets. 

“…Dew?” 

He jumped like he’d been electrocuted. A cat with its hair standing on end, almost about to hiss but stopped short of the sound. Unaware of the fact Phantom was and had been awake. 

“Are you ok?” 

Everything about the way he held himself was a clear answer in the negative but Dew shrugged and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. Defensive at the incredibly innocent question and clearly trying to close himself off. 

“S’whatever.” Dew mumbled, getting up on noticeably shaky knees. He somehow looked smaller as he blindly fumbled to pull on the sweatshirt he’d discarded on the chair by the door. More vulnerable in a way that tugged at the overly empathetic part of him. “It’s…Private. I just need to go see Swiss and I’ll be fine.” He said as if trying to convince himself, failing to zip the hoodie at least twice before pulling it all the way up to his chin. 

“Oh,” Phantom also sat himself up “think he was bunking with Mount tonight.” 

Whatever assurance Dew had found in that initial thought was quickly washed away. It was like the color drained from his flushed face, then rushed back in at twice the intensity. Phantom was surprised there wasn’t smoke rolling off of him yet. 

“Oh.” He echoed, voice tight with audible disappointment. Worrying his lower lip with his fang, Dew wiped his palms on his shorts. “Shit” sighed through grit teeth. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck I’ll just…” Once again, he brought his arms across his chest, staring down at them with a clearly rising panic he couldn’t stuff down. Anxiety tainted his scent, confections doused in kerosene. “I’ll deal with it. Just need a hot shower or something.” 

“Dew, what’s wrong?”

”I said it was private.” They fire ghoul bit with no true malice, only serving to worry Phantom further. In all his time under Aether’s tutelage, he’d learned how important it was for him to keep an eye on the others (and that they would do the same in kind), and just what to watch out for. Just like Aether had warned him, Dew followed up with a very stubborn “I’m fine.” 

Phantom kicked his covers away and reached for the bedside lamp. With how Dew jumped to snatch his wrist, you would’ve thought his hand was hovering over a missile launch button. The hand around his wrist was uncomfortable and sort of sweaty. Panic widened his eyes and tightened his grip until Phantom’s arm went limp and was allowed to drop back into his lap. 

“Sorry.” 

He began to withdraw but Phantom, stubborn as the day he was summoned, refused to let him go. More gentle than cautious when taking both of Dew’s hands in his. Their fingers slipped together with the sort of ease that can only be learned with time and patience, a comfortable act that managed to soothe Dew just enough to coax him closer.

“Got me worried now,” Phantom squeezed his hands, the gesture that he mimicked less than enthusiastically with his eyes fully fixed on the questionably cleaned carpet. “Let me help you.”

”No, bug, it’s…It’s fucking weird.”

”Let me help you.” He insisted with a tug back in the general direction of the beds, purposefully away from the door that Dew kept eyeing over his shoulder like a prisoner waiting for escape. “Trust me, don’t you?” 

For the briefest moment in that stretch of silence Phantom considered sneaking his way past the growing wall of fear before Dew could close the barrier around himself, before he could lose him to hesitation. The faintest caress of magic at the edge of Dew’s consciousness was all it would take to unravel him from whatever web he’d gotten himself wrapped up in. He’d understand Dew’s troubles in an instant, and a quick and effective solution wouldn’t be far behind. But the cool tendrils of magic flickered restlessly below his skin, held at bay by sheer reluctance. Phantom knew his limits. Knew he wasn’t Aether. Slipping between Dew’s thoughts undetected was not second nature, it was not a familiarity either of them had reached, and being caught was the most sure fire way of destroying any trust or faith Dew might have in him. 

“Course I do.” Dew answered finally, only after he’d choked down whatever protest remained. He stroked over the birthmark on Phantom’s knuckle, a repetitive act meant to soothe himself more than anything as he was pulled along. 

The frame creaked weakly beneath their combined weight as they sat at the end of the bed. Heat rolled off Dew in pleasant waves like the afternoon sun warming him layer by layer, the kind that left the body feeling heavy and sluggish - the kind a naturally cold ghoul like him yearned to bathe in. Heat that pooled in Dew’s cheeks as high shadows in the absence of light, darkness concealing a soft rouge that would surely spread to the tips of his pointed ears before Dew finally confessed whatever troubled him. 

“Don’t know how to explain it.” He sighed, tapping the back of Phantom’s hand in thought. “You have to promise not to tell anyone.”

”It can’t be that bad-“

”Promise or I’ll kill both of us right here.”

”Fine, fine.” Phantom laid a hand over his heart and bowed his head, sincere as he was mocking. “I solemnly swear on Swiss’ life that I won’t breathe a word to anyone, so help me Lucifer.”

Even in the hardly lit room Phantom knew he rolled his eyes, he’d have been able to tell in the pitch black or blind. Dew tended to scoff with it. Dramatics aside, it seemed to settle his raised hackles. Dew released his hands and reached for his hoodie zipper, brow furrowing with each parting tooth until Phantom could simply push it from his narrow shoulders. 

White cotton sat snug around his typically slight chest. Fabric pulled taut over the swell of a set of breasts and darkened around the pebbled buds beneath. Dew’s hand hovered in the air, unsure if he wanted to cover himself or not. Conflict flitted over his face before finally dropping to his lap, well past the point of hiding. Phantom’s lips parted with an audible hitch of his breath. Just inhaling he could taste it, the sweet thickness in the air gracing his tongue as if to taunt him. Tempt him. He felt dizzy.

“Are you, um, producing?” His voice cracked at the word, tripping over both his tongue and thought.

”Yeah…Happens. Hurts.”

His tongue darted out from between his fangs, his lips dry but his mouth more so. 

“How have I not-“

”Don’t want anyone to know.” Dew cut off, voice tight. “Only Swiss and Aether do, usually have them take care of it before it gets to this point but Swiss keeps ending up rooming with someone else. It’s been too busy to get any real time with him, so, just been building.” He gestured with tense frustration towards his swollen chest, as if he really needed to point it out. Phantom was still gawking. “Now we’re here.”

”What,” he paused to take a measured inhale and forcibly tear his eyes away from Dew’s tits before he started just drooling on himself “what do you have them do to make it better?”

“Suck on them.” The request was met with eyes as wide as dinner plates. In the half a beat of silence it took for Phantom to register Dew’s confidence waned. He wilted, an inch away from retreating into himself. “It’s…Forget it, it’s fine-“

”No!” Phantom could hear the overeagerness in his own voice, something he’d have cringed at in any other scenario. He wanted to help Dew. And as far as Dewdrop needed to know, his reasons were entirely selfless. “I-I can. I will, if you want me to.”

Dew nodded. Face turned away, seemingly unable to watch as the little quint lifted his shirt. Chilly fingertips skirting over his stomach caused Dew to flinch and pull just shy of Phantom’s touch, taking it upon himself to pull the offending article over his head and oh.

They fucking bounced.

Helplessly, he slid from the edge of the bed to the floor. It made the most sense to him in his stupor to scoot and kneel between Dew’s parted thighs. Eye level with his chest, now swollen to a proper handful. Phantom was sure if he took them and squeezed them they’d fill his palms just like Aurora’s typically did. He didn’t, even half dumb Phantom knew better. Certain that if he did anything but exactly what Dew asked of him he’d lose the chance to touch them and his puffy fucking nipples entirely. Knowing that didn’t stop him from wondering what sort of sound Dew might have made if he just gave one of those silver rings a sharp tug. Curiosity was a hell of a thing, and was actively making his sweatpants feel a hell of a lot more snug. 

With his shirt tucked beneath his chin, Dew had both hands free to cup beneath his tits, which looked terribly heavy. He bit his lip and gave his chest a little experimental squeeze, wincing and grimacing as his fingers dimpled the skin and pressed into the fat. 

“Aether says that they’re ‘engorged’ when they’re this full. Claimed it was an actual medical term but I don’t know how much I believe that.” His voice sounded as uncertain as his movements despite his weak attempt at humor. Awkwardly kneading at his chest like he hated every second of it, Phantom couldn’t say the same. He was entranced watching Dew grope himself with a particularly heavy hand - just like Aether would have if he were the one doing it. “Says you gotta squeeze ‘em like this, makes it hurt less. Helps.” 

“Makes what hurt-“ Phantom started but the question died when Dew pinched his nipples, head dropping back towards the ceiling with a groan bordering on agonized. “Oh.” He finished at a whisper.

Between his thumb and forefinger, his nipples were surely a proper dusky pink - they had to be with just how the small growing beads of white stood out against them. It didn’t take much, a little trickle running out from between his fingers before rolling down the swell of his tits. 

Milk.

”Y-Yeah.” He breathed, biting his lip as he squeezed that much harder and even managed a proper spurt. A few precious droplets wasted, soaking into the fabric of Phantom’s shirt. “Fuck, think I’m gonna—they’re gonna really let down, need you to-“

He could have pounced him, but he had some sense of self control. Small, but some sense. He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around one of those rosy, dripping buds before Dew could even finish the request. Braced his hands against Dew’s inner thighs, parting them further to shuffle forward another overeager inch. Muscles drawn taut, they jumped beneath his palms in anticipation for that initial tentative suckle. 

Phantom groaned as the first few drops washed over his tongue. A taste he couldn’t quite pin down. Sweet, rich for certain. Not exactly creamy, too thin for that. Whatever it was, Phantom wanted more of it. Creatures of sin were just that, subject to sin, and Phantom felt gluttonous. Dew pulled one of his hands to the unoccupied side of his chest. He took to kneading at his tit eagerly and without question, following Dew’s previous example to the best of his ability. Happy to prepare for seconds before he’d even finished. Careful with his teeth and generous with his tongue. He tipped his head for a better angle until he was able to properly latch, rewarded by a sharp gasp in the otherwise dead silent room. 

It was a steady pattern to fall into; Sucking, licking, drinking him down. One that started to become mindless after a while. Phantom found his eyes drooping, elusive exhaustion catching up with him as his brain finally started to slow. He could only listen to the soft huffed out breaths of the ghoul above him, distantly noting the way his sighs started to give way to whimpering. Sounded like a whole other world away to him. 

Fingers carded through his hair, petting and dragging till they curled into the wisps at the nape of his neck. An encouragement if there ever was one. Feverish to the touch and yet Dew managed to shiver with every slow lave of his tongue over his nipple, only burning that much hotter with each drag. Twisting tighter, he pulled Phantom closer with a low sound of approval. 

The breathy sounds above him melted into hurt little moans that Dew seemed to try to shy away from. Shame was an anchor. Phantom felt himself throb. Cock fully fattened up against his thigh, it wouldn’t be long before it’d start to leak just like Dew. He could have used his free hand to give himself a squeeze, ease some of the building pressure before his balls started to ache, but he didn’t trust himself or his dick not to bust immediately. The idea, however, still remained tempting. 

From under dark lashes with glassy eyes, he saw pleasure and conflict twisting up Dew’s sharp features. Fighting something. His right leg bounced anxiously. He swallowed another mouthful of milk, warm and borderline intoxicating like something meant to lull him into an easy trance. Reminded him of the first time Aether’s magic turned his brain into a happy little puddle though it felt less like being emptied out and instead being filled. Flooded from his toes to the very tips of his horns with bliss, veins overrun with syrup. He didn’t know if he’d ever let Dew go seeking out Swiss or Aether for relief again, not if it meant sharing. 

“Bug,” Dew panted, toes curling into the rough hotel carpet. “Bug.” He repeated, urgently. 

Phantom swallowed again. Gulped it down desperately. He barely acknowledged him, a soft grunt was all he gave while squeezing his tit in his hand till it gave and milk dribbled out from the gaps in his fingers. He’d lick it clean once he was done before he swapped and latched onto the untouched breast. 

“Oh, oh no—no, no, nn-!“

The tug at his hair came a touch too late. Yanking the little ghoul away with a sound that could only be described as devastated, Dew clapped his palm over his mouth to muffle the tail end and practically curled in on himself. His legs pinned against Phantom’s sides, knees attempting to snap shut. Protective in a vulnerable state such as this. He shook through it. His body spasmed and trembled with sharp inhales through his nose and smothered sobs into his hands. Phantom glanced down and his mouth fell open, brows shooting towards his hairline in surprise. The front of his boxers tented up into a wet patch that was rapidly spreading over the fabric. He could watch Dew’s cock twitch and jump with each spurt. He wanted to reach out and cup his balls, feel them draw upwards and pulse rhythmically as he unwillingly spilled, thoroughly painting the inside of his boxers. Watching only reminded him of how neglected his own dick felt. 

The shocks slowly subsided but the shaking didn’t. Tears painted his splotchy cheeks with wet streaks catching the lowlight. His hand moved from his mouth only to wipe them away.

Phantom sat up on his knees to kiss the corner of his quivering lip. A soft hum and a sweet gesture to soothe, he knew what Dew needed. 

Another kiss. Slotting their mouths together slowly, he swallowed Dew’s shuddered exhale. Kissed him until his shoulders sagged and his breathing evened out, petting over his trembling flanks slowly like calming a frightened beast. 

“Still full,” Phantom whispered in the space between their lips, palm flat on his rib below his other breast. “Do you want me to make it better still?” He slid up to weigh it in his hand, not squeezing, simply holding. “Make you feel good?”

”I-“

”Please?” He tipped his head, seemingly bashful as he thumbed over the wet trail of milk left on his skin. Craving setting in, the lingering sweetness on his tongue not enough. “Feed me?”

Stunned like a deer in headlights, his plea hit Dew with all the delicacy of a semi-truck on the interstate. Knocked the wind right out of him. Phantom could see his now flagging erection jump a little beneath thoroughly ruined boxers. He licked his lips slowly, chasing whatever taste was left, intent on savoring it. Fluttered his lashes for good measure as he leaned in and left a chaste kiss on the little bud he so badly wanted to latch onto. He could almost hear Dew’s heart thumping in his chest, like it was set to burst from his rib cage and flee straight out the balcony door and over the railing. 

“Just…Be gentle.” 

Phantom nodded. With the silver ring laid flat on the tip of his tongue, he wrapped his lips around his nipple and once again began to nurse. Dew’s posture felt less rigid at least. Likely fuzzy and a little docile from the weight of that unexpected orgasm ripping through him, certainly enough to not notice Phantom snaking his hand into his own sweats to simply drag his fingers up and down the length of his twitching cock. Idly playing with it as he drank. Teasing himself enough to scratch the itch but far from enough to bring him anywhere even close, not yet. The only place he wanted to blow his load was over Dew’s tits, and the fire ghoul seemed far enough out of his mind he might just let him. 

[sageofthestarz]

May I ask for jealous Dew/Swiss/Phantom shenanigans?

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

More SwissTom / DewTom content???? But of course.

[sageofthestarz]

virgin dew.. and aether? 🙏🙏

“Mount?” Aether whisper-shouts from behind the half open door to his bedroom. “Mountain?”

“I’m here, come in,” the earth ghoul calls out and Aether enters, carefully shutting the door behind himself. “What’s up?”

“Does the new water ghoul want to kill my ass or am I crazy?” he asks as he sits at the foot of Mountain’s bed where he’s reading a book. The question makes him snort out a laugh.

“The second option's more likely, but elaborate.”

“He’s constantly around just–” Aether gestures widely, “staring at me all the time with that creepy look like he wants to eat me!”

The earth ghoul raises his eyebrows and curls his lips into a smirk, “Oh, he wants to eat you alright…”

“What!?” Aether looks mildly terrified, but also confused as to why Mountain seems to be enjoying this so much. 

“Is this…” Mountain sighs, “your first water ghoul? Met one before?”

“Yes…I mean no, I never knew one.”

“That explains it,” the earth ghoul mutters, more to himself than the other. He sits up, then, to get closer to Aether, grabs his shoulders and looks deep into his amethyst eyes. “Dewdrop wants to fuck you.”

“Huh…HUH!?”

“That’s what water ghouls just do, they’re weird!” Mountain laughs. “Trust me, if he wanted to actually eat you in a cannibalistic way, you’d be at the bottom of the lake already.”

“So you’re saying…”

“Go to him, give him something—anything, like a small trinket, preferably shiny—and he’s yours,” he explains and Aether takes a mental note of his words. “Unless you’re not interested, of course.”

“Fuck, no, he’s the sexiest little thing I’ve seen in my entire life.”

“Thanks,” the earth ghoul scoffs lightheartedly.

“Aw, I said little!” Aether defends himself and leans in for a kiss, “you’re the sexiest big thing I’ve seen in my entire life.”

“Good save,” the other admits. “Now go get your siren.”

The quintessence ghoul nods and gets up to head to the door. “You’re not taking a piss, right?”

“Not this time. Good luck!” Mountain says before the other leaves again. From there, Aether goes straight to his own room to search for something shiny. He is a trinket guy, so it should be easy.

Indeed, a few minutes later he emerges with something hidden in his fist and crosses the corridor to the water ghoul’s door. Still a bit unsure if Mountain isn’t pranking him, he knocks on Dewdrop’s door.

And even though he knocked it startles him when it opens. Aether looks down at the water ghoul who hasn’t said one word to him yet since he was summoned—he just stares.

“Hi,” the quintessence ghoul says, “I’ve brought you something.”

Dewdrop cocks his head to the side curiously at the words. Aether extends his arm and opens his hand to reveal a shell with a bit of blue resin in it to make it look like water. He got it at some dingy stand a while back when he got to visit the seaside.

The water ghoul finally pulls his eyes away from Aether and looks down at the gift. He reaches for it and upon the other’s encouragement grabs it to twist it in his hands and inspect it. Suddenly—still without a word—he slams the door in the quintessence ghoul’s face, stunning him.

Confused, Aether just stands there

And a good thing he does, because a few seconds later the door opens again and he gets grabbed and pulled into the room with a yelp. Another few seconds later he gets thrown onto a bed and another few he’s got Dewdrop straddling him.

Now he understands Mountain’s words.

“Hi,” the water ghoul says finally and this simple word is enough to make Aether’s head spin. If Dewdrop’s face is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, then his voice is the prettiest thing he’s ever heard.

“Hi,” he repeats dumbly.

“You’ve already said that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You want to have sex with me?” Dewdrop asks; Aether’s hard dick under his ass not clear an answer.

“Uh-huh.”

“Good,” the water ghoul mumbles before digging his sharp claws into the other’s shirt and quite literally ripping it off. Aether is pretty sure there is not a drop of blood left in his brain by now. “You can teach me.”

That sobers him up.

“Wait, teach?” he asks. “You…you’ve had sex before, right?”

Dewdrop shakes his head.

“Oh, damn, well…are you sure you want me to be your first? Mountain would be better at it.”

Dewdrop nods.

“I’ve been watching you,” he says as if Aether didn’t notice, “I want you.”

The quintessence ghoul can’t really argue with that. “Alright. I’ll teach you. Can we switch places?”

Dewdrop obliges, crawling off of and laying next to him. Aether shucks off the remaining scraps of his shirt and kneels beside the other. He grabs the bottom hem of his shirt and pulls it up when the other lets him.

Aether can barely keep himself from drooling as more and more skin of the water ghoul’s skin is revealed. Next come off his pants and by Dewdrop’s own hands, his underwear—he’s laying entirely bare before the entranced Aether.

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathes out as his hands go to his own belt on autopilot. In no time at all—making sure he’s not making the other uncomfortable—the quintessence ghoul is naked, too.

Once he is, Dewdrop’s hands come up to his chest chest and stomach and thighs to all but grope at him greedily. Aether can barely contain himself from mounting him and fucking the living hell out of him right there.

Instead, he is being a gentleman. “Want me to touch you?”

“Yes,” the water ghoul breathes, spreading his legs where he’s kneeling in front of Aether. With shaky hands, he reaches out to Dewdrop’s thigh first, revelling in the softness of his skin for a moment before trailing upwards.

“Is it okay if I–”

“Yes.”

Aether moves his hand a little bit higher up to the water ghoul’s already dripping cunt. He gently parts his fold and runs a finger along his slit, eliciting himself a soft gasp in return.

“Alright?” he asks to make sure.

“Keep going,” Dewdrop replies. “Please.”

So Aether does.

[sageofthestarz]

Ok ok I had an idea, drunk rain, like in your opinion how would rain act drunk? Also would like a little doodle:3

- five seconds later -

He’s a very unstable drunk and will probably start sobbing his eyes out only to suddenly stop and resume with whatever it is he was doing before that

(I chose Swiss for this because I barely see any content of them which is kinda weird to me)

[sageofthestarz]

guys i swear, i can explai- *explodes*

[sageofthestarz]

EEPY

[sageofthestarz]

Some Alpha/Omega angst (past relationship, implied reunion)

This is Heavily based off the one video I saw of someones mom calling their dad(her ex husband) to say goodnight and him sounding so heartbroken :3

@skele-bunny

Anyways Omega and Alpha being broken up for years, they avoid each other, hell even stay in separate wings of the ministry. To Omega, he's convinced it's bc Alpha never really cared. Alpha was always a little more reserved with affection, both verbal and physical, it's what started to lead them down to a breakup.

And Alpha, well, he's sure it's bc Omega hates him. That he wasn't enough, and Omegas hated him since they broke up.

And Omegas the one to call, sort of wanting to see what Alpha might say, if he picked up at all. Calls him when it's late, around the time Omega knows Alpha settles for bed. Exactly thirty minutes after sundown.

And... Oh, Alphas so confused. Answers anyways, bc what if Omega needs help?? And Omega just tells him "im just calling to say goodnight." And initially it worries him, but Omegas tone is clear. It's nothing to be that concerned for.

And... It is nice to hear Omegas voice. Already settled in his nest, Alpha sinks down, "really? Just -.. just to say goodnight? Haven't called in a while.." he tried to ignore the way his voice shook, especially when Omega hummed in agreement.

So he keeps talking, "was -.. it was a nice day out. Smelled like a storms comin."*Anything to keep Omega on the line longer.

But it falls flat, because Alphas tired and confused and his chest aches something fierce. His eyes are stinging and his throat is tight, he wants to cry, to beg Omega to come and hold him, bc Alphas never liked storms topside.

But when Omega repeats a goodnight, Alpha returns it, and then it's quiet. Omega hangs up, sits with that little realization. The oh moment of how deeply Alpha misses him.

The way his voice sounded, how sad he sounded. Wounded, like they'd just broken up yesterday.

And maybe they get back together. Maybe Alpha learns to be more expressive, even if it's in private. And Omega learns to see the ways Alpha loves him, and appreciate it.

Or maybe they don't, and stay apart. Still avoiding each other, but neither of them can deny how deeply they miss one another.

[sageofthestarz]

okay here's the actual prompt lmao:

dewther & a good ole closet quickie? maybe after a show, between chores, before mass . . . authors choice xx

Crow!!! Thank you for sending me this prompt all the way back in March and I'm SO sorry it took me forever to finish!

Aether/Dew, closet quickie, newly summoned Dewther being filthy and disgusting and obsessed with each other. 1,057 words.

Read here or on Ao3

They can’t keep their hands off each other. Not even a week since they’ve been summoned, and they’ve fucked so many times they’ve lost count.

So when Dew takes Aether’s hand and tugs him into one of the hallway storage closets on their way to band rehearsal, he doesn’t even consider saying no.

“We’re gonna be late,” Aether says with a breathy chuckle, sounding entirely unconcerned about the fact. He’s already hard in his pants when Dew tugs off his silver mask and sinks to his knees in front of him.

“Don’t care,” the water ghoul answers back, tucking a strand of long, blonde hair behind his ear and working to pull off the sash tied around Aether’s waist. He unfastens his uniform pants with deft fingers and makes a pleased little trill as they fall to the floor, revealing that the bigger ghoul hadn’t bothered with underwear since the last time they undressed each other that day.

Aether slips off his own mask just as Dew leans in and swallows him down into that deliciously warm, wet mouth. He tilts his head back against the wall of the closet as the little ghoul bobs his head, takes him all the way down his throat with a satisfied hum. He’s sure that Dew can taste himself on his cock too, unshowered and undoubtedly still covered with slick and lube from their activities less than a half-hour earlier.

He sucks Aether off unhurried, letting his hands wander across Aether’s thick thighs as he works. Once he’s satisfied he pulls off with a wet pop and gives the flushed, glistening head one last lick before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stands up with a triumphant look on his face.

Dew tugs his own sash off, shimmies his pants down and lets them pool at his feet. Aether watches with rapt attention as he turns around and rucks the ends of his uniform tunic up around his waist and leans forward, bracing himself on the opposite wall with his hands. He arches his back and looks over his shoulder at Aether expectantly.

“C’mon and fuck me,” he says, with an impatient wiggle of his slim little hips.

They haven’t even known each other for more than a week, and already Aether knows that he’s never gonna be able to say no to this ghoul for the rest of his life. So he takes himself in one hand and lines up, sinking into Dew’s hot little body with absolutely no resistance - happy to give him everything he wants. 

“Oh, fuck yeah, just like that,” Dew throws his head back as Aether presses in and fills him up. He’s already so fucked open and wet that he doesn’t even need time to adjust to the stretch.

Even in the dim light of the closet Aether can see the way Dew’s body opens up for him. Like he was made for it. He slides all the way in and pulls back out nice and slow - just slow enough to admire the way his slick, pink rim grips his cock as he pulls out. He holds there for a moment, with the tip of his cock kissing Dew’s entrance. So pretty, Aether thinks to himself, watching as Dew’s empty hole flutters for him, desperate for him to finally press back in nice and deep. He squeezes bony hips and pushes forward until he’s pressed all the way inside, thighs flush with the back of Dew’s.

With a grunt, he picks up the pace, fucking in and out with deep, rapid fire strokes so strong they force the ghoul beneath him forward with a bounce each time. It doesn’t take long, not with a view like this, for Aether to feel his heavy balls drawing up tight. Dew can tell too, because he clenches around him on each stroke, pushing him closer to the edge. The smaller ghoul reaches between his legs and jacks himself off to Aether’s increasingly erratic thrusts, until they’re both panting and moaning together in the tight space of the closet.

“Gonna cum,” Aether warns, claws digging into the meat of Dew’s skinny little ass. Dew just answers with an encouraging nod, hand still working furiously between his own legs as he chases his own orgasm.

Aether buries himself deep when he cums, fingers and claws leaving marks on Dew’s bony hips as he pulls him back and holds him still while he finishes inside. It’s enough to set Dew off too, and he cums with a shout, spilling wet and dripping across his own fingers.

They stay locked together for a minute before Aether pulls out, admiring how wrecked Dew’s pretty little hole looks. He starts to pull his pants back up when he stops him with a hand on his wrist.

“Don’t put it away yet, I want to taste it,” Dew says, locking eyes with Aether and lowering himself to his knees again. Aether hisses as Dew wraps a hand around his still sensitive cock and brings it to his lips. The little ghoul opens up wide and gingerly takes his softening cock into his mouth. Blonde lashes flutter closed against flushed cheeks as he sucks, knowing well enough that if he really wanted to, he could suck Aether through the pain until he’s hard and ready to go again.

Instead he holds him in his mouth like that, savoring the taste of him on his tongue. He holds him inside like that until Aether starts to squirm, and then he releases him, gives his soft cock a few more delicate little kitten licks until he’s nice and clean. Satisfied, he pulls off and stands back up, grinning wildly at Aether's flushed face. 

Aether, still panting, dutifully reaches for Dew’s hand, still one wet and sticky with his own release, and licks each and every one of his long fingers clean in return.

When they finally make it to rehearsal, they’re nearly twenty minutes late. Aether attempts to apologize on their behalf, but Papa Terzo just waves them both off with a knowing smirk. As he takes his place next to Dew on the practice stage, the little ghoul flashes another fanged grin, and already Aether is thinking of all the things he plans to do to him as soon as they’re alone again.

[sageofthestarz]

Could you do raintom or dewtom? Maybe both or all three of them together?

Buggy is getting ALL the love

[sageofthestarz]

where want becomes wordless

The den hums with music and heat. Rain dances like sin, Dew whispers like fire, and Phantom watches from the shadows, aching and uncertain. But want has a gravity all it's own, and what starts with a drink becomes a ritual, pinned between sea and fire, until they're completely undone.

aka: baby's first body shot, 6.903 words of phantom getting wrecked on no one even takes their pants off

a/n: i may already be working on the continuation, if it's wanted. enjoy

AO3

The den is dim, soft lights glimmering against Rain’s skin. His own glow flickers to the music’s heavy rhythm - a current winding just beneath the surface. The beat pulses through the room, low and sultry, like something primal beneath the floorboards. It’s the kind of sound someone feels before they hear; a slow, rolling thrum.

The air is thick with heat and motion. Sweat, incense, and the ghost of something floral curl in the space between bodies. Shadows slip and swirl across the walls. Ghouls and Siblings drift close, then pull apart again, dancing in loops and half-formed patterns that never quite settle.

Rain dances between Swiss and Aurora, caught in a shared current. Aurora’s laughter bubbles just behind him, her small frame a flash of sharp hips and clever footwork. Swiss looms on the other side, fluid despite his size, matching Rain’s rhythm with slow, heavy ease that makes everything feel a little deeper.

But Rain’s in his own orbit.

His shirt clings and shifts with each motion, sweat blooming faintly where fabric kisses skin. He lifts a hand, dragging it over his chest, fingers wide - up across his shoulder and neck, tipping his head back into the touch. His eyes close. A small, unguarded smile flickers across his lips.

The hem of his shirt rises as he turns, flashing a sliver of stomach - that soft, luminous skin above his waistband. He rolls his hips through the beat, fluid and fearless, motion rippling through his ribs and into his spine.

Rain sinks deeper into the rhythm, the music humming in his chest, vibrating in time with his breath. He moves through it, not to it; hips rolling, arms sweeping above his head, sweat gleaming at the hollow of his throat.

Aurora spins away, laughter trailing like wind. Swiss shifts with her, leaving Rain briefly alone at the center of the floor.

He doesn’t notice.

Or maybe he does - and just doesn’t care.

He stretches, full-bodied and open, like a cat in sunlight. His head tips back, throat exposed, hair clinging to his jaw in damp strands. He rolls his shoulders, dragging his hands down his sides in time with the beat, fingers catching in the hem of his shirt - lifting, twisting, baring more skin.

And the light loves him for it.

It halos along his ribs, slips over the soft curve of his belly, glints on the sweat at his sternum and the ridges of his gill slits. Nothing about it is practiced; nothing performed.

He moves like a secret kept for too long - like he was made to feel.

From a couch near the edge of the room, Phantom watches.

They sit tucked in the corner, knees drawn close, fingers curled around an untouched drink. The music rolls through them - too loud to ignore, too low to hide from - and every bass pulse flutters in their chest. The den breathes heat and motion. Ghouls drift across the floor like smoke, laughter rising, bodies brushing. It’s beautiful - almost too much, if Phantom is honest.

But Rain -

Rain is something else entirely.

Phantom can’t look away. Their gaze tracks the twist of his hips, the shirt riding higher, the shimmer of sweat along his throat. Each time Rain moves, the room seems to bend toward him. Like he’s not dancing in the music, but summoning it.

Phantom swallows hard - chest tight, breath gone shallow.

They want, but don’t yet know how to reach for it.

A hand settles gently on their shoulder, and Phantom startles.

“Easy,” a warm, amused voice soothes from behind.

Dewdrop.

He rounds the couch and drops beside them, forearm draped casually along the back, gaze not yet following theirs. “Didn’t mean to spook you.”

Phantom shakes their head, wordless.

Dew hums. “So…who’s got you staring like that?” He scans the room theatrically. “Aurora? She’s a twirling menace type. Or - oh, don’t tell me - it’s Swiss, isn’t it? All that broad-shouldered broodiness?”

Phantom blinks, mouth parting to respond, but no sound comes.

Dew’s grin widens. “I’m teasing,” he murmurs. “I know exactly who you’re watching.” His gaze lands on Rain: still dancing, still radiant.

“You’ve got good taste,” he says, impressed.

Phantom doesn’t answer.

Their eyes stay locked on Rain: the roll of his hips, the sway of his spine, the soft arch of his neck. Each motion tightens and releases something deep in their chest.

It feels like hunger.

Dew shifts beside them without breaking the quiet. He watches, too, eyes sharp and thoughtful.

The couch dips slightly as he leans in, one steady hand settling on Phantom’s shoulder. “You want to touch him, don’t you?”

Phantom flinches. Caught. “I -”

“It's alright,” Dew says gently. “Wanting is natural.”

Rain spins, laughing now, arms lifting high, hair stuck to his cheek. He knows he’s being watched, and he moves like he wants to be consumed.

Dew glances sideways, something knowing in his gaze.

Phantom doesn’t realize how tight their grip has gotten until Dew gently eases the glass from their hand and sets it aside. “Easy,” he repeats, voice warm. “No one’s going to make you do anything. Just breathe.”

Phantom exhales shakily.

Together they watch, drawn into the orbit of Rain’s joy like moths to heat, too close to realize they’re already burning.

Dew watches Phantom a moment longer, then stands. He offers a hand, not insistent, just there.

“Come with me,” he says softly. “Let’s get a better view.”

Phantom hesitates. Their fingers twitch.

Dew waits, hand open - gaze steady.

After a breath, Phantom reaches out and takes it, grabbing their drink as they stand.

He leads them slowly across the edge of the room, weaving between lounging ghouls and nodding familiars, until the dance floor heat brushes their skin and the music pulses beneath their feet. Still outside the circle, but close enough now to feel it.

Rain spins ahead, shirt riding higher with each motion. He catches sight of them, Dew’s hand around Phantom’s, Phantom wide-eyed and glowing under the soft, flickering lights.

He smiles.

He doesn’t stop dancing, but his attention shifts subtly.

Dew draws Phantom closer, leaning in to be heard over the bass. “Still not drinking that?” he asks, nodding at the untouched glass in their hand.

Phantom glances down and shrugs. “Doesn’t really interest me, I guess.”

Dew’s grin turns slow and wicked.

“Oh, I’ve got something better,” he says, voice low and warm in their ear. “Ever taken a shot the right way?”

Phantom blinks. “What’s the right way?”

Dew chuckles, tipping his head toward Rain. “Off him,” he says. “I pour. You taste.”

Phantom flushes to the pointed tips of their ears. “Wait - you mean -”

“Mhmm.” Dew leans in, just a little closer. “Pretty little body. Smooth skin. Rain loves to be savored.”

Across the dance floor, Rain meets their gaze and tips his head, his smile curling slow at the corners.

Phantom swallows. Their hand tightens in Dew’s.

Dew raises an eyebrow. “What do you say, bug? Want your first drink to be something unforgettable?”

Phantom stares wide-eyed, heart hammering loud enough they’re sure someone else must hear it.

“I -” They blink. Try again. “I’ve never - no one’s ever asked me to…”

Dew tilts his head, grinning softer now. “That’s not a no.”

Phantom’s mouth opens, then closes. They swallow hard. “Would… would he even want that?”

“You haven’t noticed?” Dew murmurs, stepping aside. “He’s been dancing for you.”

Phantom’s turns, just in time to see Rain approaching.

He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t strut. Just glides, like the whole room parts for him.

Rain’s cheeks are flushed navy, luminescence pulsing rainbow-bright beneath his skin. His chest rises with each breath, eyes steady and warm. He stops just close enough to feel - the tremble, the want, the way Phantom stills like prey.

“Hi,” he says, smile soft.

Phantom’s breath hitches. “Hi.”

Rain’s gaze drops briefly to their hands, then back up. “I saw you watching.”

Phantom opens their mouth - nothing comes out.

Rain tilts his head, inviting without pressure. “Did you like what you saw?”

They nod a little too fast.

Dew hums behind them, pleased. “Shy,” he tells Rain. “But definitely interested.”

Rain chuckles. “That's sweet.” He steps in close, close enough that Phantom feels the humidity rolling off his skin. “Do you want to try something with us?”

Phantom’s breath stutters, but this time they manage it.

“…Yes.”

Dew smiles, clearly pleased. “Good.”

Dew keeps Phantom’s hand as Rain turns, guiding them through the den’s warmth and shadows. The couch waits in its quiet corner, dim and half-hidden, far enough from the heart of the party that the beat is felt more than heard.

Rain is unbuttoning his shirt as he walks, sweat-slick fabric parting with practiced ease. He doesn’t rush; he knows what he’s offering. Reaching the couch, he sinks onto it, lounging back like he was made to fit those cushions.

Dew would say that he was.

Rain stretches one arm across the backrest, the other trailing over his stomach. His ribs rise and fall in a slow, steady rhythm, light clinging to every curve.

His gaze returns to Phantom.

“Come closer.”

Phantom obeys without thinking, heart pounding. Dew follows, snagging a bottle of honey-gold liquor from the side table.

“Watch closely,” Dew murmurs, voice low and coaxing.

He uncaps the bottle and pours, slowly, letting liquor pool in the hollow above Rain’s sternum.

Rain doesn’t flinch. He closes his eyes and tips his head back slightly, lips parting with a quiet breath. He looks like something sacred - offered not for worship, but for devouring.

Dew crouches, steady hand sliding along Rain’s ribs, fingers splayed like he’s cupping something fragile. Phantom can’t miss how perfectly that hand settles between Rain’s gills.

“Look first,” he says softly, eyes flicking to Phantom. “Then tongue.”

He leans in.

Honey and spice rise first, edged with a sharp note that slices through the room’s heat. The liquor glows faintly where it rests on Rain’s chest.

Dew lowers his mouth to Rain’s skin. His lips brush just above the liquid, a breath ghosting over the damp surface. Rain shivers beneath him.

Then, slow and deliberate, Dew licks.

His tongue traces the curve of Rain’s sternum, warm and firm, following the glistening trail with practiced ease. He drinks with a low hum. Rain releases a soft, broken sigh. It’s more than sound, it’s sensation, torn from deep inside. His gills open ever so slightly with his breath, and the muscles beneath his skin ripple faintly under the heat of Dew’s mouth.

Dew pulls back only once the last drop is gone. He licks his lips, slow and smug, then glances toward Phantom, his eyes dark with something rich and inviting.

“See?” he murmurs. “Sweet. Sharp. Better when tasted slow.”

He offers the bottle next - less invitation, more promise - gleaming between his fingers.

“Want to try?”

Phantom doesn’t move.

They just stare - at Rain, stretched out and glistening where Dew’s tongue had passed; at the bottle in Dew’s hand, golden and gleaming; at the drops still catching light above Rain’s heart.

Their mouth dries. Fingers twitch.

They want - Lucifer, do they want - but nerves flutter wild in their chest, a thousand questions crowding their throat.

Their gaze turns to Dew. Then to Rain.

Finally they speak, soft and shaking: “Can I…?” Phantom swallows. “He’s your mate. I don’t want to cross a line. I don’t want to... you know."

Dew’s heat softens into something gentler. Maybe even proud.

“You’re sweet,” he murmurs. “Careful. That’s good.”

Rain opens his eyes, dark with pleasure, steady with trust.

“You’re not taking,” he says. “I’m offering.”

He lifts his hand, palm open, no pressure, just welcome.

“I want you to. If you want to.”

The world holds still for a breath.

Phantom steps forward, just one trembling shuffle, and reaches for the bottle. They turn it over in both hands, trying to mimic Dew, but their fingers shake too much. They hover above Rain’s chest, uncertain.

“I…” They barely whisper. “I don’t want to mess it up.”

Dew steps in, close behind. He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t smile. Just leans in, chest pressed to Phantom’s back, one arm curling around their waist - solid and grounding. Hot.

“Let me help,” he breathes at their ear. His other hand covers theirs, fingers steady and sure around the bottle.

“Start here,” he murmurs, tilting their hands until the liquor pours - a slow, gleaming ribbon. It lands in the hollow of Rain’s chest.

His lips part, lashes fluttering.

“Good,” Dew whispers. “Just like that.”

Phantom swallows, body easing into Dew’s hold as he guides them lower.

“Now look,” he murmurs. “Really look at him.”

Phantom does. How could they not? Rain lies beneath them, skin flushed and pulsing blue, throat bared in trust. Liquor glistens like melted sunlight. His expression is nothing but invitation.

“You won’t hurt him,” Dew murmurs. “Just touch. Gently. Here.”

He sets the bottle aside and guides Phantom’s other hand forward until their fingertips brush just below Rain’s ribs.

“Start low. Feel his breath. Let your hands tell him you’re here.”

Phantom’s touch trembles, but it lands. Rain exhales, soft and pleased.

Their hand stays where Dew placed it, resting just beneath Rain’s ribs, the skin there flushed and warm. Phantom’s breath stutters again… then steadies as Dew leans in close.

“You’re ready,” Dew murmurs, voice low and sure.

His hand finds their hair, fingers threading gently through the strands. Not pulling, just grounding.

“Eyes first,” he says, lips brushing their ear. “Let him feel you looking. Then tongue.”

Phantom leans in.

Dew’s fingers tighten slightly, just enough to be felt. The air shifts, the edge of a growl tucked low in his throat.

“Don’t touch his gills.”

The words are quiet, but they land with weight.

Phantom nods immediately, voice just a breath. “Of course.”

Rain stirs. One hand lifts, cool and sure, settling lightly on Dew’s elbow. Not pushing, just reminding. His fingers curl once, a silent pulse of reassurance.

He’s still Dew’s.

But tonight, he’s offering himself, and he wants to be touched.

Phantom lowers slowly, steadied by Dew’s hand in their hair and his arm cinched at their waist. The world narrows to Rain’s skin; salt-warm, sweat-slick, luminescence glowing in the low light.

And then - they lick.

The first touch is clumsy: a hesitant touch of tongue, barely a taste.

But then Rain sighs, a long, low, willing sound, and Phantom’s nerves start to settle.

They lick again, slower this time, chasing warmth and the faint bite of liquor down the shallow curve of his chest. Soft lips brush the center of his sternum. Rain arches, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

Dew’s hand tightens gently. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “That’s exactly it.”

Phantom pulls back just enough to breathe. Rain opens his eyes, and what they see there - desire, trust, pleasure, welcome - makes their knees go weak.

They don’t speak. They just look up at Dew, lips wet, lashes fluttering.

Dew smiles, slow and full of fire. “Told you,” he says. “Sweet, isn’t he?”

Phantom nods and leans back in.

Their breath ghosts over Rain’s skin, cooler than Dew’s. The contrast sends a shiver rippling down Rain’s chest to his spine.

Dew watches with quiet pride, hand steady in their hair, his body a furnace at their back. The contrast is stark, Dew’s heat blooming along Phantom’s back while Rain’s skin welcomes their cool touch like water holding starlight.

Rain’s fingers twitch against the cushions. He tips his head back, mouth parted, throat bared, breath a shade quicker.

Dew hums low, pleased, heat wrapping tighter around Phantom. “Feel that?” he murmurs. “He likes how you're tasting him.”

Phantom pulls back, face flushed despite their natural chill. Their fingertips tremble on Rain’s chest, feeling the fast, steady beat beneath.

Dew’s mouth is at their ear again. “Go on,” he urges, guiding them forward. “Give him more. He isn’t done being kissed.”

They lift their eyes to Rain’s.

“…Where?” they whisper. “Where do you want me?”

The question is quiet enough to drown in music, yet Rain hears. He blinks, dazed but focused, pupils wide. A hand lifts, slow and gentle, to cup Phantom’s cheek, thumb brushing their jaw.

“Anywhere,” he breathes. “But…”

His hand drifts down, tracing a slow line past his collarbone and sternum.

“Here.” His fingertip settles just above his waistband. “Taste me here.”

Dew exhales behind them, a single breath of spark and satisfaction. “Hear that, bug?” he murmurs, pressing closer. “He’s asking.”

His fingers tighten in their hair.

“Give it to him.”

Phantom swallows hard.

Their free hand trails after Rain’s, lingering where he pointed. Then they lean in, mouth lowering to the place he offered.

Rain’s muscles twitch under the touch, his body shifting in a slow, unguarded exhale. His head rolls against the cushion, curls tumbling loose, mouth parting on a sigh that flirts with a whimper. He doesn’t direct. Doesn’t move. He just gives; his trust, his breath, his body.

Phantom kisses just beneath his navel. Lips cool, barely a breath. Then they part, tongue slipping out to trace a trembling line above Rain’s waistband. He moans, quiet and helpless, legs shifting slightly beneath them.

“Just like that,” Dew purrs, voice thick with praise. “You’re doing so good, bug.”

He stays pressed to Phantom’s back, steady as a spine, hand firm in their hair. Every time they falter, he’s there; anchoring, whispering, coaxing.

“Feel how he melts for you?” Dew says. “That’s yours. He wants it.”

Rain’s breath catches as Phantom kisses lower, slower, tongue gliding over a fresh stretch of skin. Their cool mouth draws a deeper shiver, and Rain’s hips lift, chasing it. Phantom gasps, lips still against his skin, startled by Rain’s response, by the pleasure they’d earned.

“Give him more,” Dew whispers. “He can take it.”

Rain’s hand finds their wrist and holds it gently against his side. Not pushing, not pulling, just keeping them close.

“I like the way you touch me,” he says, voice loose with pleasure. “Don’t stop.”

Phantom nods, swallowing again. They kiss and lick across Rain’s belly, tasting yuzu, sweet grass, sea salt… and cardamom, unmistakably Dew.

Rain shudders. His fingers tighten gently around them, drawing Phantom’s focus up from where their mouth still lingers.

“Can I have a drink too?” he asks, voice thick with warmth, pleasure, and something hungry curled sweet at the edges.

Phantom blinks.

They lift their head slowly, lips wet, pupils blown wide. “A drink…?”

Rain’s smile deepens, just a little smug. “Mm-hm.”

Phantom’s brows pinch, brain fogged. “I - I don’t - have anything on me -”

Dew chuckles low behind them.

He leans in, lips brushing their ear. “He wants you, bug,” he murmurs. “Wants a shot off your pretty skin.”

Phantom’s breath catches - “Oh.”

Their cheeks burn with sudden heat, that delicious mixture of embarrassment and desire sparking all over again beneath their skin. They glance at Rain, who’s watching them with that same open, patient want.

“Is… is that okay?” Phantom whispers.

Rain hums, sitting up, fingers brushing over Phantom’s wrist. “It is,” he says gently. “But only if you’re okay with it.”

Dew’s hand slides down their back, steadying. “We won’t do anything you don’t want. But if you do want…” He kisses the hinge of their jaw, tongue flashing. “…he'd love to taste how sweet you are.”

Phantom's lashes flutter. “Yeah,” they whisper, and in a blink they're clambering onto the couch, sitting up on their knees. With fumbling fingers they tug the collar of their shirt aside, baring the smooth line of their neck and shoulder. Their cool skin glows faintly in the amber light.

Rain’s focuses on the exposed strip of dusky-lilac skin. He licks his lips slow and thoughtful, as if already tasting.

But it’s Dew who moves first.

He slips behind them again, hands gliding over their waist and chest, up to cradle their jaw. One hand tips their chin back, baring the long line of their throat; the other steadies their hips, his heat soaking into their cool body.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs at their ear. “But I can’t let Rain have all the fun now can I?”

Phantom lets out a breathy laugh, hips shifting.

Rain rises with fluid grace, retrieving the bottle. He steps close, close enough for Phantom to feel his heat, cooler than Dew’s yet warmer than the air.

“Hold still,” Rain says, tilting the bottle.

The liquor trickles down the slope of Phantom’s throat, a golden ribbon that slips over their collarbone and down the curve of their neck. The temperature of it stings at first, startling against their cooler skin, but then it’s gone, replaced by Rain’s mouth. He leans in fast, tongue tracing the spill, slow and deliberate. Every lap is reverent, sensual, a careful savoring of salt and sweetness and Phantom’s own clean taste beneath it.

Phantom shudders; knees dip, but Dew’s arms lock around them, holding them steady.

“Good?” Dew whispers, lips brushing their temple.

Phantom can only nod, eyes shut, head tipping to bare more skin.

Rain hums against their throat. “You taste better than I imagined.” He pulls back slowly, tongue flicking the last drop at their collarbone. Cool breath follows the damp trail, and Phantom sways, dazed.

Dew steadies them.

“Mmm,” Rain murmurs, licking his lips, eyes half-lidded. “I could drink off you forever.”

Phantom releases a soft, wordless sound - too overwhelmed for speech.

Behind them, Dew growls - hungry.

“My turn,” he says, voice rough with want.

Rain leans back, letting Dew take the lead, eyes lingering on the scene.

Dew waits a beat, hands still and firm at their hip and jaw. His grip shifts, firmer, commanding, and he tilts their head back further to bare more of their throat.

“Can I mark you?” he whispers.

Phantom’s eyes fly open, startled, but they nod. “Y - yes.”

That’s all he needs. He bends and licks a slow stripe up their neck, tongue hotter than Rain, hotter than the liquor, hotter than anything Phantom has ever felt.

Then he bites. Not cruel, not deep, just enough: a sharp press at the crook of their neck that sends a jolt through their whole body. Their knees buckle but Dew’s arm, iron-strong, keeps them upright against his heat.

Phantom gasps. Rain squeezes their hand.

Dew pulls back only to lave the mark with his tongue. “There,” he breathes. “Something to remember me by.”

Rain, still watching, smiles, slow and wicked. “So pretty when you shiver.”

Phantom is breathless - caught between them, skin glowing from touch. Their shirt clings to one shoulder, the other is bare and proudly marked. Violet flush blooms in their cheeks as their pulse pounds beneath Dew’s tongue.

Rain rises and crowds in, fingers brushing Dew’s jaw. Dew looks up, the bite mark on Phantom still fresh on his lips.

Rain leans forward and kisses him.

It’s not soft. It’s deep, hungry, open-mouthed - fire passing between them. Heat floods through Dew, pressed hard to Phantom. He groans into the kiss, hand tightening on Phantom’s waist.

Rain pulls back, eyes darker. “Still thirsty?” he asks, voice low.

Dew grins, tongue flicking over his lower lip. “Always.”

Rain turns to Phantom. “Hold still for me, sweetheart.”

Phantom exhales, thankful for Dew’s physical support. “Okay.”

Rain lifts the bottle, tipping it gently above Phantom’s shoulder. He artfully avoids the blooming mark, letting the liquor stream cool down the side of their neck, across their collarbone, and into the dip between their chest and half-draped shirt.

Phantom gasps, the chill of it shocking.

Then Dew’s mouth is on them again - hot, eager.

He traces Rain’s path exactly, tongue following the golden trail like it laid for him. He licks every drop from their damp skin, chasing fresh shivers down Phantom’s spine. His teeth graze their collarbone - just enough to pull another whimper from their heaving chest.

Rain watches, hand resting on Dew’s shoulder. “So good,” he murmurs. “Look at you - our pretty little altar.”

Phantom makes a high, helpless sound - overwhelmed and undone.

Dew smiles against their skin, then pulls back to see their face. Lips parted, breath shallow, eyes wide and glassy with heat; they look wrecked already, still nearly fully dressed.

“C’mere,” Dew murmurs, sliding his hand to their waist and guiding them gently to straddle his lap. Phantom goes easily, body moving faster than thought.

Dew’s solid thighs radiate heat. His hands bracket their back and the nape of their neck, holding them steady, framed in fire. Phantom shudders, forehead resting against Dew’s.

“I can’t -” they breathe. “I don’t think I can take much more.”

“You can,” Dew answers, voice molten. “You’re doing so well. We’ve got you.”

Rain reaches behind them, brushes hair from the back of Phantom’s neck. His touch is cool, so much cooler than Dew’s furnace. They gasp, arching into it.

Rain’s hands glide down their sides, over the soft fabric still clinging to their hips. “Let us taste you together,” he murmurs. “Be good for us.”

Dew’s lips roam Phantom’s throat, biting harder now, emboldened by the way they whimper and cling. Rain mirrors the motion with soft, cooling kisses just below their ear, soothing where Dew devours. They bracket Phantom with their mouths, a perfect push and pull, working in tandem to unravel them.

Phantom trembles.

Their hands press to Dew’s shoulders for balance, but they’re slipping, breath by breath, into the space carved just for them.

Dew growls again. “Feel that? They’re shaking for us.”

“I do,” Rain breathes, voice tender with awe. “So good for us.”

Phantom’s hips twitch in Dew’s lap, caught between pleasure and the ache of needing more. Every breath is shallow and stolen. Their fingers twist into Dew’s shirt like it’s the only thing anchoring them to the world.

Rain’s hands glide slow over their sides, reverent as they chart every inch - fabric and skin. Dew’s mouth trails lower: their collarbone, the hollow of their throat, following the path of Rain’s pour with teeth and tongue.

Dew grins against them, his teeth grazing skin. “Adorable,” he murmurs. “Didn’t know bugs could make such sweet little sounds.”

“Could steal them away,” Rain adds, kissing the nape of their neck. “Drag them into the dark and ruin them.” Phantom twitches.

He chuckles, his breath cool. “You like being talked about?”

Phantom nods, barely lifting their head. “Mmhm…” Phantom’s hips jerk in Dew’s lap, a desperate grind that leaves them gasping.

Rain smiles against their skin. “Oh, they do like that.”

Dew slides two fingers up their side. “Look at them...practically glowing.”

Phantom buries their face in Dew’s shoulder, keening, caught between presence and pure pleasure.

Then they shift - not away, but closer. Phantom lifts their head, flushed and glassy-eyed, pressing tighter to Dew’s shoulders and whispering, aching:

“Dew… let me - let me taste you.” It spills from them in a rush, unpolished and urgent, like it’s been trapped behind their teeth too long.

He grins, slow and sharp-edged. “Here?” he teases, voice warm and wicked. “In front of all these people?”

Heat floods Phantom’s cheeks, but they don’t pull back. They turn to Rain, eyes wide and shining. “Please,” they whisper. “Rain…may I have a drink?”

Rain melts.

He tips their chin up with two fingers, eyes glowing with pride and tenderness. “So sweet,” he hums. “Asking for what you want. That’s my good little buggy.”

Phantom leans into the praise like it’s touch, their whole body blooming with warmth beneath it.

Rain’s smile turns mischievous as he shifts toward Dew. Unhurried, his fingers slip behind Phantom and undo the remaining buttons of Dew’s shirt.

One.

Two.

Three.

The fabric parts slowly, revealing the golden stretch of Dew’s chest, already kissed by heat and sweat, flushed and waiting. Dew watches with his mouth curved lazily, hands still holding Phantom close.

“Undressing me in public, boys?” he teases, voice thick with amusement. “Should I be blushing?”

Rain meets his eyes with a smirk. Then he lifts the bottle, tips it with care. The liquor pours in a slow cascade down Dew’s chest. It flows down his sternum, catching in each ridge of muscle, sliding toward his stomach. The scent of it rises, honey-sweet, and Phantom watches, wide-eyed and hungry.

Rain threads a hand into Phantom's hair. “Go on,” he whispers, fingers curling gently. “Taste him. Just like you tasted me.”

Phantom leans in. Their tongue flicks out, cool and cautious, lapping at the topmost line of liquor. Dew hums low, pleased, his chest rising under their touch.

Rain’s hand stays firm, guiding their mouth lower. “Slower,” he murmurs, a thread of command. “Let him feel every part of you.”

Phantom obeys. They press their tongue flat, licking down the glimmering trail Rain left behind. The contrast is dizzying - Dew’s heat, the sting of the liquor, Rain’s cool fingers in their hair - and a quiet moan slips from their mouth against Dew’s skin.

“Sweet, right?” Rain breathes, lips brushing the shell of their ear. “He always is.”

Dew chuckles, his hands stroking their thighs. “Careful,” he says. “Keep doing that and I might ask for seconds.”

Phantom licks lower, slower, tongue chasing the last of the liquor to the base of Dew’s sternum. Their movements are unsure at first, but Rain’s hand keeps them steady, like he already knows where they’re meant to go.

Dew’s breath catches. “Fuck,” he mutters, soft and helpless. One hand slips from Phantom’s thigh to their waist, fingers curling there.

“You’re killing me, Phantom,” he rasps. “That mouth…”

Phantom moans against his skin, trembling with need. Behind them, Rain smiles, voice dark with affection.

“You like how he tastes, don’t you?”

Phantom nods, breath stuttering. “Yes,” they whisper. “So warm…”

Rain’s hand drifts from their neck down their spine, then slips beneath the hem of their shirt. Cool fingers glide over their lower back and curl across their ribs; reverent, slow.

“You've been so good,” he says gently.

Phantom shivers, pressing into his touch.

Dew’s hand slips beneath the fabric from the front, reaching around to meet Rain’s fingers, both of them stroking Phantom’s trembling torso together, one hot, one cool. Phantom gasps and arches, caught between them.

Dew kisses their temple, rumbling low, “What do you want, Phantom?”

Rain kisses the back of their neck. “Whatever you want, it's yours.”

Hands move in sync, stroking ribs and stomach, exploring soft skin under a shirt that suddenly feels far too heavy. Phantom whimpers, hips shifting, entirely undone.

“More?” Dew asks, lips at their cheek. “Or do we just keep tasting you until you fall apart in our hands?”

Phantom trembles, flushed, shirt half-off, breath ragged, pressed between Rain’s cool and Dew’s furnace heat. But they still manage to nod, yes - more.

Before anyone can move, a voice cuts through the music.

“Rainy! It’s our favorite song!” Cirrus calls from across the den, waving him over with a playful grin. Rain sighs affectionately.

He leans in, kissing Phantom’s shoulder. “One dance,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

Phantom whimpers, clinging to his wrist like they might melt without him.

Rain cups their cheek, thumb brushing under one eye. “Stay with Dew,” he whispers. “Be good.”

Then he’s gone, swallowed by the pulsing crowd, hips rolling to the beat, shirt still hanging open. Phantom watches, dazed and aching, still straddling Dew’s lap - shirt loose with liquor cooling on their tongue.

Dew chuckles behind them.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs, tracing slow circles along their back. “All wound up with nowhere to go.”

He shifts just enough to settle Phantom more firmly in his lap, one hand sliding to their thigh, fingers pressing, reminding them who holds them now.

“Look at him,” Dew whispers at their ear. “Pretty little tide, all swaying hips and soft smiles. Bet you’d crawl into his arms the second he looks your way.”

Phantom nods weakly, head lolling against Dew’s shoulder even as their gaze follows Rain.

Dew hums. “You could have him. Both of us. I can keep you in my lap while he licks you open - his tongue’s real soft. Maybe I’ll even help, part your folds so he can suck you off.” He kisses their crown as they whimper. “Or maybe I’ll be greedy and stuff you so full you forget your name.”

Phantom shivers.

He grins, grip tightening. “Or maybe you want another taste of me. When he comes back, we’ll lay you out like something sacred - let him drink from you while I feed you mine. Would you like that? Wanna be our little altar?”

“Please,” Phantom gasps.

“Then be good. Sit pretty. Let everyone see how lucky we are.”

Dew eases back into the couch, arms snug around Phantom’s waist. The den pulses around them - warm bodies in motion, laughter spilling, and Rain dancing a few feet away. Every moment stretches tight with promise.

Dew rolls his hips in lazy circles - slow enough to torture, deep enough to tease - his cock a steady pressure between Phantom’s thighs. Just enough to show what's waiting. Phantom gasps, fingers digging into his arm.

“Mmm,” Dew purrs. “There’s that sound I like.”

His practiced hands keep one grip at their waist, the other tracing idle circles along their thigh; so close to too much, but still not nearly enough.

“Look at him,” Dew murmurs, nodding toward the floor.

Rain moves in bliss: hips swaying to the heavy beat, shirt barely clinging on, curls damp against his neck. He looks like the music lives in him.

“You see that?” Dew breathes. “That’s not sweetness, bug. That’s hunger. And when he comes back, he’s gonna take you apart, piece by piece - slow, like he owns you. And you’ll beg for more, won’t you?”

Tears prick at the edges of their eyes, not from pain but from the overwhelming flood of sensation.

“I want it,” they whisper. “Please...don’t stop."

Phantom barely recognizes the creature they’ve become: flushed violet, hips grinding on Dew chasing his warmth, lips shiny with liquor and need. A shy little void who once hid in corners now writhes in full view, aching for a ghoul who dances like sin and another who whispers like fire.

The shock of that awareness only fuels the hunger clawing up their spine - because every shred of dignity they thought they’d guard has already been offered, and they want to give the rest, want Rain and Dew to take it, to carve delight into every place restraint used to live.

Dew rocks a bit harder and Phantom whimpers, giving in to their desperation.

“Bet you wanna bounce on it right now, don’t you?” Dew teases, voice thick with wicked affection. Phantom grinds down, chasing the friction he keeps teasing away.

“Yeah? You’d let me fuck you right here?” Dew’s voice drips with heat.

Phantom nods, teeth clenched, gripping his sides like he might vanish.

“What do you think Rain would do, huh?” Dew breathes, teeth grazing their jaw. “Watch from the corner and fist his cock real slow?”

Phantom moans, hips grinding helplessly.

Dew growls low, voice thicker. “Not a chance. He’d drop to his knees. Lick us both clean. Taste your slick right off the base of my cock.”

Phantom gasps, sharp and startled. Something clicks. Not shame, but want - burning and brutal and so much deeper than they were ready for.

The image Dew paints lodges hot behind their eyes: Rain’s mouth open, cheeks flushed, eyes black with hunger as he licks them both clean. Phantom feels it - in their stomach, in their thighs, in the way their breath catches like a trap just sprung.

They don’t even try to stop the next moan. It curls low in their throat, wrecked. Their hips twitch again, harder now, chasing friction like they need it, like they’ll die without more.

Dew chuckles darkly. “Oh, you liked that, too.”

Phantom nods without meaning to, a quick little motion. They’re past pretending now. The hunger’s real. They’d let Rain do it.

Would beg for it.

Would beg for both of them.

Another broken noise spills from Phantom. Dew kisses just beneath their ear, thrusts up in perfect rhythm.

“When he sees you like this - needy, dripping, riding my lap in the middle of the party - he’s gonna lose his fucking mind.”

He doesn’t relent. Moves in lazy circles, slow torture, a steady reminder. Phantom clings to him like they're drowning, fighting not to finish on the spot.

“That’s it,” Dew croons. “Barely holding it together.”

His palm drags up their chest, fingers splaying wide. His thumb strokes their racing pulse.

“All these people around,” he whispers, “and no one gets to touch you but me.”

Phantom whines, soft and high in their throat, but they can’t look away. Rain’s still out there, shirt now gone, dancing with Cirrus, sweat shimmering across his ribs like water over stone. Dew’s lips find the hinge of Phantom’s jaw: one kiss, two, then teeth dragging toward the hollow of their throat.

“You want him to see you like this, don’t you? Want him to come back and find you dripping, almost ruined.”

A tiny, jerky nod.

“Say it,” Dew rasps.

“I… want him to see.” The words break on Phantom’s tongue.

Dew’s breath catches. “Fuck. You're perfect.”

One hand cradles the back of their head, the other slides under the hem of their shirt, fingers resting at their waistband, a promise, or maybe a threat.

“You’ve been so good for us,” he murmurs. “Gonna take such good care of you. But not yet.”

His gaze tracks Rain, hunger flashing hard behind his lashes. “Not until he sees exactly what’s waiting.”

Music throbs; Dew’s hips roll slow; Phantom’s breath flutters. Dew noses along their cheek, voice a spine-scraping whisper.

“Bet you don’t even know who you’ll beg for first.” A sharp smile follows. “Don’t worry, though. You don't have to choose.”

Phantom squirms, trapped between too much and not enough. Dew’s fingers drum lightly on their waistband, patient. Phantom whines, eyes half-lidded, too dazed to notice the shift in the crowd.

But Dew notices, and his grin widens.

“Pretty thing,” he croons, poison-sweet, “still sitting so well in my lap. Soft and waiting to be torn apart.”

Another whimper; Phantom doesn’t yet understand why Dew’s tone has darkened.

“You’ll look gorgeous in our nest,” Dew whispers, fingers slipping a breath lower, earning a gasp. “Rain’s going to love how you beg. Think you can wait? He’d hate to miss you coming apart.”

Phantom moans, hips twitching, so close. Dew grins, all teeth, and looks to Rain.

The beat swells, thick with heat and hunger, the crowd parting on instinct. Rain finishes his dance with Cirrus, spins her into Aether's waiting arms. When he turns his head, he sees them.

Phantom, straddling Dew’s lap, hips rolling to the slow grind Dew sets. Cheek buried in Dew’s neck, mouth open, eyes shut, already lost.

Rain’s gaze goes black.

He moves, strides through the crowd. Bodies peel away on instinct, the room adjusting around him like he's something inevitable.

No hurry. He owns the distance.

Phantom, drowning in heat and Dew’s filthy whispers, doesn’t sense him coming. .

Dew does. He meets Rain’s eyes, flashes a fanged smirk, but never breaks rhythm. He leans to Phantom’s ear.

“Keep moving for me, sweetheart. Give him a show.”

Phantom whimpers, trembling - caught between edge and oblivion.

Then - cool fingers slide up their arm.

They jolt; eyes fly open.

Rain stands before them; bare-chested, curls dark and wet, fangs half-bared in something that isn’t quite a smile. Predatory stillness radiates off him, heavier than the bass rolling through the den.

Phantom’s breath stops.

Rain’s eyes burn molten; his chest still heaves, and a devilish smile hooks his lips - hungry, and aimed solely at them.

“Thought I’d leave you like this, bug?” he asks, voice low, syrup-dark.

Phantom gasps, caught between shy heat and raw want.

Rain brushes a kiss along their cheek, then ghosts his mouth to their ear. “You look like sin in his lap,” he murmurs. “Was that the plan? Make me watch you writhe for him?”

Dew nips Phantom’s neck, chuckling. “Told them you’d love it.”

Rain hums, gaze raking over flushed skin, trembling thighs, parted lips. He doesn’t touch - yet. Only the backs of his fingers drift along Phantom’s jaw; his thumb strokes the curve of their cheek. Phantom melts into it, breath hitching.

“So flushed,” Rain purrs, amused. “Still thirsty?”

Before they answer, his teeth find the shell of their ear and he nips, sharp. Phantom jolts, pressing harder into Dew.

Dew growls approval, hand locking at their waist. “Rain…”

Rain answers by pressing forward, body molding to Phantom’s, pinning them between his chill and Dew’s furnace. Then he tilts his head and claims Dew’s mouth; slow, deep, all tongue and possession. Heat blooms through Phantom, nowhere to flee.

Rain breaks the kiss with a satisfied curve of lips -

– but the song lunches, heavy rhythm giving way to something aggressive and electric. Ifrit’s doing, no doubt. There’s a thud of heavy bass, a chaotic guitar riff, and someone whoops too loudly on the other side of the room.

Rain winces like the sound offends his blood.

“Ugh. Ifrit’s taste is abysmal.”

Phantom releases a shaky laugh.

Dew snorts into their neck. “Love when he gets pissy about music.”

Rain arches a brow and kisses Phantom’s temple. “Let’s move someplace quieter.” Then softer, into their ear:

“Our nest has plenty of space.”

[sageofthestarz]

Hihi just wanted to say that your fic Hold The Flame is absolutely phenomenal 🥵🥵🥵🥵 dynamics are great and just 🔥🔥🔥 More please!

RAHHHH THANK YOU!

I'm so glad you liked it! It's a fun one. I really do love letting Dew take the reins, and Rain is so so pretty when he's desperate.

Thank you so so so so much for reading and taking the time to send me an ask about it. It means the WORLD to me, really truly. ♡♡♡♡♡

For the curious. You can read Hold The Flame here ♡

[sageofthestarz]

dont imagine early on, theyre in Aeths room. Aether is bent over (maybe grabbing smth from a wardrobe or smth) and Dew comes up behind him and smacks his ass for the first time.

and Aether lets out the loudest, most whorish (genuine) moan/whimper... needless to say, after that night, Aeth couldnt sit properly for nearly 2 weeks straight

Those pants are about to fucking burst and if it does happen, Dew can't be held responsible for whatever he does next.

Though it really does feel like an illusion of choice. Whether the pants rip or not, he was always going to do exactly what he did next. Go up to where Aether was digging in his closet for a box of picks and smack that wide, fat ass so hard they both jump from the loud crack of it and Aether...

Well. Aether makes a noise Dew wouldn't mind trying to get an encore of.

"Forget the picks." He says heavily, hot little hands sliding up under Aether's shirt to grab his love handles. Aether has gone so still, unused to being a target, unaware he could ever be in a position to submit. "I want you in my lap on the bed, cause what the fuck was that?"

Aether's face is beet red when he shuffles out of the closet. He sits on his haunches and rubs the back of his neck apologetically, mouth opening and closing several times as he struggles to give an answer.

"No." Dew says, voice tight. He's suddenly understood Swiss's fascination with putting Dew in this exact position. Watching the struggle for someone to want what's offered freely, but the unexpectedness of their desire overwhelms them. Makes them freeze. "Nuh-uh, big guy. Our options are the door or the bed and I think we both know which one you want."

Dew wants to push. Wants to bully. Wants to probe this crack in Aether's affable shell and widen it. Expose the raw nerve underneath and make Aether hurt until he's tracking tears down his wet cheeks. He's gonna start with the fucking pants on and when Aether thinks Dew's has his fill, Dew will make him stand. Strip. Turn around so Dew can admire the cherry red hue of his ass and how chubby his cock will get from being wedged between Dew's skinny thighs. And that's just the beginning.

Delight twists eagerly in his gut as Aether gives in. Probably about fifteen seconds sooner than Dew would have with Swiss.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

[sageofthestarz]

Don’t mind me

😼

[sageofthestarz]

whoever decided discord file size limit should be 10mb must be put in the pillory in the town square and have tomatoes and other rotten items thrown at them