wretched creature

Multi-Chapter Fics

denial is a river (my love is an ocean): the legally required dewdrop transition slow burn angst-fest but it ends with so much joy i promise

drowning is another kind of baptism: DIR2, the phantom story

money, cigarettes, power, fame: stripper rain in a bunny outfit, need i say more?

Fics

burning, yearning: pussy so good rain turns into a monster

part 2 and 3 in progress

inspo for ma'am kink rainy wip

beneath a crown of silk and sweat: rain/dew/phantom threeway during a full moon celebration after dew has a little oopsie with his wine glass (aka ma'am kink rainy)

Early Relationship Raindrop Midwestern Emo Ghouls AU: Rain and Dew are trying to enjoy a nice game of pool when a preacher from a few towns over barges in and makes an unscrupulous bet. Rain teaches him a thing or two :)

nothing rusts in the desert; life is short, enjoy more dry humping (RainDrop) now with part two: the air is full of ghosts - bathtime (with a handjob)

quantum entanglement: Phantom has a craving, and Omega has the cure

where want becomes wordless: Phantom gets wrecked by Rain and Dew and the sweet tang of liquor (aka baby's first body shot); and hunger becomes holy: part two, electric boogaloo, 12.5k of phantom getting rocked six ways to sunday ;; now with "prequel" Unresolved Feelings (and a Semi) aka baby's first ritual aka Phantom is flexible and Dew needs to be blown about it

How many circuits can I fry? belltom oral fixation go brrrrrr

palpable response: omega/aether, heavy on the med fet

Princess Protocol: rain/dew/phantom; the holy trinity of quintosis, come, and crying (plus rain's tits)

Incalescence: dollification; rain/dew/phantom

ad mejorem dei gloriam: DewTom blasphemy and blood

full service vampire: vampire!dew and trans rain on his period

Banana!Verse

can you feel me longing for you, forever: Earth and Air kit adoption story

all those things that you desire: how charon came to be, and the aftermath that followed

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HCs/Ficlets

the ghouls and their hair

karaoke night

dew drooling over rain and his jewelry

the ghouls and some kitchen and food habits

rain and phantom: insomnia buddies

skill issue (raintom, implied forcefem)

Catholic-in-Life Phantom HCs

Swiss's panty kink

Kinktober 2024

Jealous Dewy Drabble (Raindrop)

New Uniforms (Raindrop)

Bright as the Starlight (Swisstom)

somnophilia drabble (perpetua/haze)

dewdles broke his foot (dewcopia)

bioluminescent water ghouls

quintessence luminescence

fire ghoul luminescence

belltom fear play

Say Thank You - RainTomDrop bloody hands in mouths

Strung Out - Rain/his black bass guitar

The Hand That Chooses - Rain/Cirrus, murder ghoul Rain

Ah, Fuck - RainDrop, disgustingly in love and in missionary

Coming Home - CumDrop, Dew worshiping between Cumulus's thighs

Resonance - BellTom; the only logical solution to an anxiety spiral

Made You A Spot: t4t raindrop blowjob and titfucking

first time for everything: t4t raindrop baby's first strapping

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Medical Mini Fics/HCs

water ghoul healing magic

expanded ghoul healing magic hcs (specialties/subspecialties)

Phantom's First Time (In the OR)

Omega's First Time (Losing a Patient)

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The harness has three buckles and Rain has already redone the middle one twice.

"You've got this," Dew says from the bed, which would be more helpful if he wasn't saying it in the tone of someone watching a nature documentary.

"I know."

Rain tugs the strap, checks the fit. Tugs it again. It's not — he knows how this works, conceptually, he's not dumb. It's just different when it's his hips and his hands fumbling with hardware that doesn't care about his nerves.

"The left one's twisted."

Rain looks down and straightens it without comment.

Dew makes a sound that is technically not a laugh.

"You can keep doing that," Rain says pleasantly, "and I can take my time with this."

Silence.

Blessed, cooperative silence, for about eleven seconds, which is honestly Dew's personal record.

"Do you want me to—"

"No."

"I'm just saying I've done this before, I could—"

Rain turns around and looks at him.

Dew closes his mouth and tilts his head back against the pillow with the exaggerated patience of a ghoul being deeply wronged. His whole body is a complaint.

It's also very distracting, which Rain is not going to acknowledge. Because that would give Dew power, and that's the last thing he needs right now.

He turns back to the mirror and gets the last buckle.

The toy slots into the ring and Rain takes one breath, then another.

It's — okay. It's a lot, actually.

Dark, almost black, ridged in a spiral that tapers to a wicked curve at the tip. Rain is abruptly aware that Dew looked at this specific object and made a series of choices. Rain had assumed, when Dew produced it, that the plan had been —

well.

Not this.

He looks at himself in the mirror. The deep black of it against his grey-blue skin is striking. Interesting, even, in a way that lands slightly stunned in his chest.

Dew bought a tentacle toy and decided Rain should wear it first.

They'll discuss that later.

"Okay," he says, mostly to himself.

"Okay," Dew agrees. His voice has dropped out of documentary narrator and into something deep that does Rain's focus absolutely no favors.

He crosses to the bed.

Dew moves to make room and then immediately doesn't, reaching up instead, hands finding Rain's hips with great confidence, forgetting the current arrangement.

Rain catches both wrists.

Dew blinks up at him.

"You," Rain says, carefully moving Dew's hands to the mattress, "are staying there."

"I was just—"

"I know what you were doing."

Dew's expression cycles through several things and lands on something that is trying very hard to be innocent. "I'm being very patient."

"Are you?"

"Can you blame me? Look at you."

Dew reaches for him again and Rain pins his wrists above his head, mostly on instinct.

Dew makes a sound like the air left his body.

Oh. Okay.

Rain puts that away to use later, another thread to pull.

He settles between Dew's thighs and feels something unknot in him when Dew stops trying to do anything and just looks up at him, expression open in a way it doesn't always get, even with him.

Rain kisses him once, soft, and Dew tips up into it immediately, chasing, and that's familiar ground, that's easy, that's them.

They stay there for a while.

Rain kisses the corner of his mouth. His cheek. Comes back to his lips slow and Dew makes a small sound and opens for him, one hand coming up to curl into Rain's hair without thinking, without grabbing, just — holding.

Rain can feel him breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, the way some last held thing in him is gradually releasing. He tastes like he always does. Feels like home in a way Rain has never quite found the words for and has mostly stopped trying to locate. Rain kisses him a little slower, just to stay there.

Dew's wrists flex against Rain's grip but don't pull. He's getting warmer. Getting good.

Rain kisses him again and Dew opens for it immediately, easy. Rain forgets for a moment what he was doing because Dew's mouth is — it's Dew, it's always Dew, warm and seeking and Rain follows where it leads without meaning to, tongue sliding against his. Dew makes a low sound in his chest and arches up into him and Rain forgets a little more —

He's not sure how long they stay there.

Long enough that Dew makes a different sound. Less patient.

Rain shifts his weight and loosens his grip by half an inch, lining up, and Dew's already twisting free, reaching down. Two fingers trying to do three jobs at once — parting, guiding, helping —

"I had it—"

"You were taking forever—"

"Could you not wait two seconds, Dew—"

"You were being careful," Dew says, like it's a character flaw. He rocks his hips up at the same time his fingers pull and the angle goes completely wrong and there's a sound neither of them made and they both freeze and look down and the toy is just.

Gone.

They stare at each other and then there is a small, distant thump from the floor on Dew's side of the bed.

The silence holds for two full seconds.

They blink simultaneously and Dew makes a noise like a dying animal. Rain tries to say something and can't, drops his forehead onto Dew's sternum instead.

They are simply gone. Dew is shaking with it, actual tears, wheezing 'I was helping' which only makes Rain laugh harder.

It takes an embarrassing amount of time to recover.

Rain has to actually retrieve it, which means climbing off the bed while Dew laughs at his back. When he stands up holding the toy straight in the air like a tenticular trophy Dew loses it all over again, face buried in the pillow, shoulders heaving.

"You," Rain says.

Dew surfaces just enough to look at him. Can't speak.

"This is your fault."

Rain, without thinking, points at him with the dildo and Dew collapses back into the pillow.

It's too much.

Rain looks down at the toy in his hand and starts laughing again too, helplessly, because it is funny. Something about standing here in this harness holding this thing while Dew weeps with laughter into their pillowcase is the least dignified and yet most comfortable he's felt all night.

He slots it back in. Checks it twice, and climbs back onto the bed. Dew is still grinning, eyes wet, when Rain gets back between his thighs.

"Don't," Rain says.

"I'm keeping my hands exactly where they are," Dew says. They're at his sides and he pats the bed twice, gently. His grin hasn't moved. "See? Good."

Rain looks at him for a moment. Dew's hair is a mess. His eyes are still bright with laughter and something else underneath it, something that's been there this whole time, patient in its own way. He can't help but smile back.

Rain kisses him slower this time.

Dew goes quiet in the way he gets when something catches him off guard and he hasn't figured out how to be clever about it yet. Rain feels it as Dew exhales against his mouth, his hands staying exactly where they are without being reminded. The only part of him that moves is his hips, tilting up, chasing the pressure of the toy against him without quite meaning to.

Rain pulls back to look at him.

Dew's jaw tightens.

"Hands above your head," Rain says, quietly.

Something moves across Dew's face. Surprise, maybe, or the specific irritation of being perceived, but he does it anyway. Slowly. Like it was his idea in the first place.

Rain watches him settle and feels something warm and new move through his chest.

"Good," Rain says, and means it. He watches the word land on Dew like a physical thing.

He lines up again, his own breath coming careful.

"Okay?" he murmurs.

"Yeah," Dew says, and his voice is different now, stripped of the commentary. "Yeah."

Rain shifts and gets both of Dew's wrists in one hand again without really thinking about it, and feels the moment it changes.

The way Dew's wrists sit together in his grip with room to spare. Dew's small arrested breath, the way his whole body does something involuntary and then tries to pretend it didn't.

Rain looks down at him.

"You like this," he says, and it's not a question. It's just a fact he's turning over in his hands like something new and interesting. Dew opens his mouth and then closes it because what is he going to say, no? With both his wrists swallowed up in one of Rain's hands like they were always meant to be there?

Rain kisses his jaw instead of waiting for the answer and Dew's head tips back with a groan.

Rain rocks his hips, small, experimental, feeling out the weight and movement of it. Dew makes a sound that he immediately tries to swallow. Rain feels him, actually feels him, slick and unmistakable, the way the toy is sliding between his folds.

"Oh," Rain says softly. Not smug exactly, more wondering. "Dew."

"Shut up," Dew says, breathless, meaning the opposite.

Rain keeps moving against him, luxuriating in the sounds, in the slick heat of it, in the way Dew's whole body is running ahead of his mouth for once in his life.

He rolls his hips again, deliberate this time, and leans down close enough that his mouth brushes Dew's ear when he speaks.

"You've been thinking about this."

Dew's breath catches. "I haven't—"

"You have." Not accusation. Just Rain, calm and certain, the way he gets when he knows something. "You've been thinking about having me like this." Another slow roll of his hips, finding a rhythm, learning it. "Weren't you."

That's not a question either.

Dew turns his face away and Rain can see the color rising in him, the tips of his ears going dark. Something about that does things to Rain's chest; that he can make Dew do this, that underneath all the commentary and the grabbing and the 'I was helping' there was this —

"Look at you," Rain murmurs, and his voice comes out lower than he expected. "Can't even argue with me."

"I could argue with you."

"Okay." Rain stills his hips completely.

"Don't you dare—"

Rain moves again and Dew's whole back arches and whatever he was going to say dissolves into something wordless. Rain presses his mouth to Dew's jaw, his cheek, feels the heat radiating off him.

"That's what I thought," Rain says softly, and Dew makes a sound that is embarrassingly close to a whimper.

Rain has to stop for a moment.

Dew makes a lot of noise but not like that, not that unguarded, and something about it reaches into Rain's chest and rearranges things quietly. The smugness doesn't leave exactly. It just makes room.

He decides to take his time with it.

That's new too. Usually there's Dew setting the pace, Dew's hands, Dew's mouth, Dew — and Rain has always been happy to follow. But right now Dew's wrists are still caught in his hand and Rain is learning something about himself, about the satisfaction of slow, of deliberate, of making Dew wait —

He pushes in to the base and feels Dew's breath leave him in a rush.

"Rain—"

"Yeah," Rain says quietly. He feels Dew shudder under him. He shifts his weight, settles deeper, and watches Dew's face do something complicated and overwhelmed and beautiful. "How's that?"

"It's—" Dew stops. Swallows. "Fine."

Rain laughs low in his chest. He rolls his hips just enough to make the word a liar and Dew's fingers flex against his grip.

"Fine," Rain repeats.

"Good," Dew grits out. "It's good, you know it's good—"

"I do know," Rain agrees, insufferably calm, and leans down to speak against Dew's throat. "You're so full of my cock you can't even be mean about it."

The sound Dew makes is not dignified. Nothing about the next three seconds is dignified, the way his whole body reacts, the way his legs come up and cross at the small of Rain's back like pure reflex, locking, pulling —

Rain isn't going anywhere.

He tests that, just slightly, a small draw back, and Dew's thighs tighten immediately, heels digging in.

"Don't," Dew says, and it comes out wrecked, all the smug stripped clean out of it.

Rain looks down at him. Flushed and bright-eyed and holding on with everything he has.

"Wasn't planning to," Rain says honestly.

Dew makes a helpless noise and turns his face into his own shoulder like he can hide there and Rain frees his wrists finally, brings his hand up to cup Dew's jaw and turn him back, make him look.

"Hey," Rain says softly. "I see you."

Dew stares up at him and for once in his life says absolutely nothing.

Rain kisses him slow and deep and starts to move.

He finds a rhythm and sticks to it.

Steady. Unhurried.

Feeling out every small thing Dew's body tells him and using it, which it turns out is not so different from everything else Rain is good at.

Dew is coming apart beautifully.

"Tell me," Rain says, low, not breaking pace.

"Tell you what," Dew manages, which is impressive given the state of him.

"How long."

A pause. Dew's jaw works. "How long what?"

Rain shifts his angle just slightly and Dew's whole spine curves and there it is.

Rain smiles and hits it again, watches Dew's composure develop a structural problem.

"How long you've been thinking about this?"

"I haven't been—"

Rain hits that angle again. Deliberately.

"Fuck," Dew says, and then, smaller, losing ground fast — "a while."

"A while," Rain repeats.

"Don't make it weird."

"How long is a while, Dew?"

Dew turns his face away. His ears are fully dark. "...long."

Rain presses his mouth to his cheekbone, his temple, and keeps moving, keeps that steady devastating pace.

"Was it good," he murmurs. "What you imagined?"

Dew laughs, broken at the edges. "It was — yeah. But it's." He stops.

Rain waits.

"This is better," Dew says, like it costs him something. "Shut up, it's better, don't —"

"I'm not saying anything."

"You're smiling—"

"Dew." Rain pulls back just enough to look at him, really look, and drops the teasing from his voice entirely. It's just them now. Just this. He moves slow and deep and watches Dew's eyes go glassy. "Tell me what you want."

Something shifts in Dew's face. The last little wall.

"You," he says simply. No deflection left in him. "You, Rain, I want — just you, just keep —"

Rain kisses him before he can take it back.

Dew makes a broken sound against his mouth and holds on with everything he has and Rain swallows every bit of it, keeps moving, steady and sure and his.

"Good," Rain says again, against his lips. "I've got you."

He snaps his hips and finds it by accident.

That's the thing that will undo Dew later, re-examining it in his memory. Rain wasn't even trying, just shifting his weight, adjusting, learning, and he hits something and Dew's whole body seizes like he's been struck. The sound he makes is completely involuntary and completely humiliating and he cannot do a single thing about either.

"There —" Rain says softly, almost to himself. "There you are. That's my Dew."

"Rain—" Dew starts.

Rain does it again.

"Rain—"

Again.

Steady. Inevitable.

Rain with his whole focused attention locked onto Dew like he's the only thing in the room, like he's something worth studying, worth memorizing, worth every embarrassment that led up to exactly this.

Dew can feel it building into something enormous and he doesn't know what to do with enormous — he's always been the one doing this to other people, always been the one watching someone come undone. He doesn't know how to be the one who gets taken apart.

But Rain keeps moving. Keeps his mouth at Dew's ear, low and certain.

"That's it," he says. "Feel how good you take it? Feel how wet you are for me?" Dew makes a broken sound and Rain doesn't stop, doesn't let up. "Been thinking about this so long and now you've got it — you've got all of it — just let go, Dew." A roll of his hips, deep and deliberate.

"Let go. I've got you."

That's what does it.

It rolls through him like a wave breaking and he can't stop it, can't redirect it, can't be clever about it. There's a split second of oh no and then his body just goes, a rush of heat and wet he can hear, can feel soaking into the sheets beneath him, completely beyond him, and he hears himself make a sound that doesn't belong to any version of himself he usually performs —

Rain stops, one hand braced beside Dew's head.

"Dew," he says, and it comes out wrecked. Reverent. Like he's been handed something he doesn't have words for yet.

Dew's thighs are shaking. He's crying a little, becomes aware of this distantly, hates that he can't do anything about it —

"I'm not—" he starts.

"I know," Rain says, and his voice is still doing that thing, still undone, like Dew coming apart like that took him apart too.

"I didn't mean to—"

"Dew." Rain cups his face. Tilts it up. Eyes dark and warm and completely blown in a way Dew has never seen on him before. "I know."

Dew stares up at him, ruined and soaked and wrung completely out, and yet Rain is looking at him like he hung something in the sky.

"Come here," Rain says softly, and Dew goes, pulls him down, buries his face in Rain's neck and holds on.

Rain gets a hand between them.

Dew makes a sound like a live wire. "I can't — Rain, I'm — it's too—"

"You're okay," Rain says. He means it, he always means it, and starts to move again.

"Rain—"

"I know." He keeps moving. Keeps his hand moving. Dew is so wet, so oversensitive, making sounds like he can't decide if it's too much or not enough, and Rain presses his mouth to his temple and just stays there. Breathing him in. Feeling everything.

It builds slow and then all at once.

Dew gets there first, properly this time, whole body clenching, Rain's name dissolving into something wordless, pulled out of him with a shuddering exhale.

Rain follows him over almost immediately, the pressure of the harness and the sounds Dew is making and the sheer overwhelming fact that he's the one causing it all.

They stay tangled together after, breathing.

Rain presses his mouth to the top of Dew's head after, lazy and warm, floating somewhere soft and satisfied in a way he's never quite felt before.

He made Dew do that.

He did that.

The satisfaction is enormous. He's thinking about it from every angle, still a little stunned by the fact of it —

Dew lets him hold it for maybe three minutes, and then Rain feels it. Dew's quiet changing. The way he goes from boneless to something else, something quieter and more deliberate, the same way a cat goes still right before it pounces.

Rain's satisfaction develops a crack in it.

Dew's head lifts.

His eyes are clear. Bright. His fangs catch the light when he smiles and Rain's stomach does something complicated because that's not the smile of someone who just got destroyed, that's the smile of someone making plans —

"Rain."

"...yeah?"

"Your turn."

Rain opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.

"I — we don't have to—"

"Oh we really do," Dew says pleasantly.

"Dew—"

But Dew is already moving, already pushing Rain onto his back, already swinging a leg over him, and when his fingers find the harness buckles they just… open.

One, two, three, easy as breathing, like they were meant for his hands specifically.

Rain stares up at him.

Something on his face must give him away, the last dying embers of smugness colliding headfirst with the very clear understanding of what is about to happen to him, because Dew's smile goes absolutely feral.

"You took forever with those," Dew says pleasantly.

"That's — that's not the point—"

Dew leans down and kisses him once, sharp and sweet and full of terrible promise.