mcswaq replied to your post: mcswaq replied to your post: RED PEARL...
the original point was to shake off the rust, right? while it might not have been exactly the “jail bait” clock wanted, it still was tony the tiger great!! so shhhh. no matter how you feel about it it still makes you le supreme sempai
Alright, this is the almighty. Based around this, which requires the disclaimer that Puppet E. Master does not encourage others to attempt the contents of this writing.
ENJOY!
***
On the whole, Phantom reflected, Fenton was rather easy to read. Sure, there were all those times when Fenton (neither had wanted to be called 'Danny', as that person was the sum of both their parts, and it had felt... wrong, almost, to be called something they were only a piece of) could be cunning, hiding his true intentions to get them fulfilled. But overall, his goals were rather predictable: food, sleep, and... fun. Food and sleep were easy to decipher, as the human had little tact in making his needs in those areas known, but fun... that was another story entirely. And one too long to tell.
But overall, Fenton was an easy read. It had made him easy prey every time the two played strip poker (and wasn't that suspicious in and of itself, Phantom wondered). Put simply: Fenton couldn't keep a straight face to save his life.
And the face that the human was giving Phantom at that moment was one the ghost knew all too well. That sly grin, those shifty eyes that betrayed the humor, and the light blush creeping up his neck that told Phantom volumes about what was about to happen.
“No.” Phantom cut Fenton off when the latter opened his mouth. “I will not participate in whatever harebrained idea has taken root in your mind.”
“You keep saying that, but we both know that you end up doing it.” Fenton grinned, arms hidden behind his back. “And this time is something of a gift to you.”
“Unless you're hiding a new thermos behind your back, it's a gift for you, not to me.” Because no matter how much he liked what they did at the time, it just wasn't something that a proper Hero should be doing. “Or the Courtmaster's Cloak I saw.”
“Dude. That was a tablecloth.” Fenton was Not Impressed. “You saw it at the department store while fighting the Lunch Lady.”
“It's the Courtmaster's Cloak, and it increases the wearer's heroic ability by forty-three percent!”
“Tablecloth.” Fenton repeated, rubbing at the top of his head through the red baseball cap. “Floral print, dude. They sell 'em on the cheap. Literally a dime a dozen.”
“Do not blaspheme the almighty Heroic Capes!” They were the most integral part of being a Hero; Fenton just could not speak such things so lightly!
“I thought they were 'cloaks', not 'capes'?” Fenton gave Phantom an unimpressed stare, before shaking his head and carrying on. “Back on topic: gift. Yours. Accept. Yes?”
“Present. Yours. Reject. No.” Phantom was adamant that this nonsense stop. The Hero was above such ridiculousness. Over his shoulder, his cape (not a bed-sheet, thankyouverymuch Fenton) ruffled in the wind, bolstering his resolve. “More importantly, I have to go patrolling. You never know what malevolent maligners could be out causing trouble.”
“You just came back from patrolling. There are no ghosts out there, excepting you.” Fenton gave a sly grin, one hand still hiding the 'gift' behind his back as he approached Phantom. “Besides, I know you'll like this gift. You're me, and if I like it, then so do you.”
“Flawed argument.” Phantom responded automatically, but did not stop Fenton's approach. “Well-reasoned, but flawed. The longer we remain separated, the more different we become.”
“No more different than twins.” Fenton rolled his eyes, and leaned in close. “But we're more like each other now than we were way back when we first separated, you catch my drift?”
“I–” Phantom stumbled over his words as Fenton moved forward, pressing his lips against the ghost's. Whatever retort the hero had had was pulled from his mouth as Fenton deepened the kiss, tugging on Phantom's lower lip with his teeth, kneading and nipping until the skin tingled. All the while, Fenton was hard at work unzipping Phantom, untying the bed-sheet from around his shoulders and pulling the jumpsuit away from the ghost's skin. More and more skin was exposed to the air, until Phantom was wearing nothing but green-and-black polka-spotted boxers, their front neither covering nor hiding the pulsing erection Phantom had. The ghost's cock was protruding out of the fly, hard and pulsating to the beat of Phantom's heart.
Fenton pulled away, and Phantom followed after, eyes shuttered and lips trying to recapture the human's. Fenton frowned at the erection, scratching at his scalp through the ballcap, a–
“What the hell is that?!” Phantom could feel his cock stop pulsating, freezing in place along with the rest of his body. Fenton ignored the ghost, finger tapping the air in irritation as he pointed at the erection.
“We're gonna need to fix that.” Fenton looked up at Phantom staring at him in confusion and fear, realizing that the ghost had said something. “Wait, did you just swear?”
“What is tha– is that ribbed?” Phantom's voice had devolved into a bundle of high-pitched squeaks. “Where – is that supposed to – what is that thing?”
“Hmm?” Fenton followed Phantom's line of sight to the object in his hand. “Oh, this thing? It's a sound.”
“A... sound?” The hero didn't know what a sound was, but it was a sexual object, to be sure. It was a metal rod, a little over nine inches long, with over two-thirds of the rod ribbed, reminding Phantom of a screw, almost. “That – what the fuck is that supposed to do? And what does my dick have to do with it?”
“Your dick has everything to do with what this sound's meant to do.” Fenton clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “It's that hard-on of yours that I've got issue with. That's a problem thing, right there.”
“My hard-on.” Phantom repeated, pushing up onto his elbows and crawling away from the human. Something was not right with Fenton – clearly he wasn't getting enough sleep. Or maybe he hadn't eaten anything; Phantom knew well enough how Fenton got when he hadn't had anything to eat in a while, or when his blood sugar got too low. “How about we just, like, put down the wand–”
“Sound.”
“–put down the sound, and get you something to eat. Okay?” Phantom spoke slowly and with care. Fenton had that same look in his eye that he usually got when his blood sugar dropped too low. “Like, fifteen minutes and I can have a hero sandwich prepped just the way you like it.”
Fenton sniggered, presumably at some innuendo that he thought Phantom had made, and shook his head. “I'm not hungry, dude. I just had breakfast. I got enough sleep. This? Is happening.”
“I don't know what you think you're doing, but–”
“I know exactly what I'm doing. I tried it out on myself, and it's perfectly safe.” Fenton reached down, over the side of the bed. Fingers scrabbled for the plastic box that held all those bottles of lube that Fenton somehow always had fully stocked. “It'll feel weird, but trust me, urethral sounding feels–”
“Urethral what-now?” Phantom knew what urethral meant. He'd watched all of the medical dramas almost religiously after that one time Fenton had been knocked into a wall by Skulker (the human had had a low-grade concussion and had been under watch for the rest of the day, while Phantom binge-watched all of the medical dramas and documentaries he could find).
“Urethral sounding.” Fenton repeated, his words coming slowly and clearly to Phantom's ears. “It's the insertion of rods, called sounds, into the urethra. It sounds – heehee, sounds – kinda hinky, I know, but dude, it feels... I can't even begin to describe.”
“You most certainly will not!” Phantom puffed out his chest, feathers very much ruffled. “I will not allow this to–”
“Do you trust me?”
Phantom's tirade died on his lips as Fenton looked earnestly at his counterpart. “What?”
“Do you trust me?” Fenton set down the bottle of lube from where he was swirling it with the metal rod, and stared hard at Phantom. “Do you trust that I know what I'm doing? That I don't need you to protect me or mother over me all the time? Is that what this is about?”
“I – no! Of course not!” He did not mother over Fenton. It was just intense concern for Fenton's well-being.
“Are you sure? Because every time we do something, every time I do something, you pull away. I'm just...” Fenton sighed, sliding off the bed to pace the room. “Dude, I'm tired of always being the one who wants this. I'm tired of having to convince you that this thing between us? It's okay. I want this, I'm okay with this. And I know that you feel the same way. And I know that you bottle it all up. And I know that you're just as tired of pretending as I am that there's nothing between us. And I don't mean that we used to be the same person; I mean that... I trust you, okay? I trust that every day you'll end the hero. I trust that you'll win, that you won't end up a pelt on Skulker's mantle or put under one of Ember's rock spells. I trust that the day never comes when you decide you're better off without me.”
Phantom... didn't know how to respond to that. Fenton's voice had grown thick by the end of his speech, and he'd turned away from the ghost.
“I'm scared.” The words just came flying out of the ghost's mouth, and he let them. “I try to be perfect every second of every day, and it's hard. I do everything I can to be the hero, to be the morally righteous one in each and every battle. And it's hard. Vlad has the mayor's office, and those policies he's been pushing through... they're helping people. It's insurance and aid to people affected by my fights. And... I turn to you. I open myself up to you. I give up control to you. And it's so... easy. Because... I trust you. I trust that you'll do great in school. I trust that you'll make our parents proud in ways I can't. I trust that you'll be there at the end of each day. I trust that the day never comes where you wake up and realize that you're life is better off without me in it. So don't – just do not doubt that I don't, that I never trusted you. Because I do. And I always will.”
Fenton had stopped pacing, but was facing the wall away from Phantom. Looking closely, Phantom saw the human's shoulders twitching, and he floated over, pulling the human into a tight hug. Fenton grappled onto the ghost, fingers curling around pale shoulders, as he embraced the hug. Phantom's tail, long and tapering and flesh-colored, curled around Fenton's waist. They remained that way for several minutes, with human curled into ghost.
“You can do the thing.” Fenton stilled, pulling away until they were staring face-to-face. “The urethral sound. You can – it's okay. We can do that, if you still want?”
“Really?” Fenton glanced down at the forgotten bottle, the smooth handle of the sound protruding out of the mouth of the opaque container. “You're okay with it?”
“I trust you.” Phantom's tail went ram-rod straight, shifting and vacuum forming into legs and a lower body. Bare feet plopped onto the floor as ghost carried human towards the bed. Fenton was set down on the edge of the bed, with Phantom following soon after. “I'm yours.”
Fenton looked at his counterpart, really looked at Phantom. Phantom matched his other half; he was prepared to do this, to take this next step toward... something. Fenton nodded at the bed, a half-smile on his face. “Lie down.”
Phantom laid back against the bed, the air leaving his lungs in a whoomph. His legs dangled over the edge at the knee, and he looked up at Fenton as the human picked up the forgotten bottle of lube.
Pulling out the rod, Phantom felt himself pull inward, all of his extremities becoming smaller. Fenton slowly swung the rod around so he was facing his ghost counterpart, and cringed a little. “Uh, I should warn you that it might be... intense. I mean, will be intense. So. Just... don't be afraid to tell me if it gets to be too much, okay?”
Phantom's gaze met Fenton's, and green eyes conveyed a single message: I trust you. Fenton nodded, the message received. A turn of the wrist, and the rod descended.
Phantom yelped, a sharp bark in the air, and Fenton flinched. The rod froze in place, slick with milky-white, viscous lube, tip pressed against the head of Phantom's cock.
“We're good!” Phantom squeaked out, because Fenton looked two seconds away from jerking his arm away (and because the rod looked so slicked up that it was likely to slip out of the human's grip and get lodged in the wall or something equally bad). “We are good! The metal was cold, and I was just... not expecting that. But we're good.” Phantom paused, considered the flinch, and went on. “We... are good, aren't we?”
“Oh! Dude, we totally are. Good, that is. I just – didn't know if I'd hurt you, or something. Y'know?” Fenton let out a dry half-bark of a laugh, and Phantom cringed at the nervousness and how forced it came out.
“You'd never hurt me. I know that. You know that.” Phantom reached out, placing his hand over Fenton's own. The tip of the rod slid along the head of Phantom's dick, and the ghost shivered at the feeling. “Now, we've already gone this far, and I'm sure as shooting not gonna stop now. We're going all the way here, Fenton. You with me on this, or am I gonna have to finish up without you. You know I will.”
Fenton snorted, shaking his head in disagreement. “You've never finished without me. I'd know if you did.”
“Oh?” Phantom scoffed. “Then I guess some other ghost is the reason for that cold draft you keep feeling in the shower.”
“You – that draft – while I'm in the shower.” Fenton looked confused, his ghost counterpart noted in satisfaction. “You mean every time I felt a draft on my dick it was you having an invisible orgasm. You're the reason why my hands are freezing numb every time I jerk off in the shower?!”
“What can I say?” Phantom grinned. “You're delicious.”
“You're the hero!” Fenton's voice was a strangled squeak.
“And you're a terrible influence.” Phantom blithely replied. “But I trust you anyway. Now, you got five seconds to do this thing before I take it out of your haaaaohgod.”
The tip had slid inside all on its own, and the rod was slowly moving down, following gravity as the lube slicked the way. Fenton adjusted his grip, turning all attention towards the rod as it made its way into Phantom.
The ghost had fallen against the bed, fingers clenching hard against the bedsheets because ohgodohgodohmercifuljeebus. It was pushing into him, filling him in a way he hadn't thought could be filled, pulling him more and more open with every millimeter that sank into him. It set nerves afire that Phantom didn't even know he had, making his brain scream and screech as it tried to figure out if this was pleasure or pain or both.
It felt penetrating, like the first time Fenton had entered him, filling an emptiness that he hadn't known was there until it wasn't. It... felt. It felt like the rush that came with a breathtaking orgasm, that tingling sensation of weightlessness that stretched from the tips of his hairs to the edges of his lips to the very ends of his fingers and toes. It felt like the rush of blood to the head, like the heart skipping a beat.
It felt.
And oholygod it was still going in.
Prying one eye open, Phantom looked down to watch as each concurrent bead on the rod pressed against his urethral slit, pressing against the edges and pushing in to join the rest of the ribbed rod.
And the great length of the rod still had yet to enter.
Phantom let out a breathless whine, to which Fenton rolled his eyes.
“I'm not gonna force it into you. That way lies pain. And urinary tract infections. It's best to let gravity do its work.” As Fenton said that, three beads of the rod slid into Phantom, while the human gently took the ghost's cock in hand to help guide the rod in. The touch was more than enough to send Phantom down again, and he was left groaning as his brain finally decided that what he was feeling was pleasure. It coincided with the rod's descent increasing in speed with the smoother path.
The rod was a filling presence within Phantom, and he let out a strangled moan as it passed against his prostate – and stopped.
“You okay there?” Phantom fought through the intense sensations to crack a bleary eye in Fenton's direction. “No pain? Or, well, it's only the good kind of pain? None of the bad?”
Phantom let out a distressed whine in the absence of words. The rod was just sitting there, upright by itself. It was just there, in him, and he wanted...
“Okay. Good.” Fenton let out a sigh of relief, reaching down with both hands and–
Oh
my
G O D
Fenton was tapping his fingers against the handle of the rod, the vibrations moving down and into Phantom, penetrating his everything.
Tap
tap
T
A
P
Tap
tap
T
A
P
It... stopped.
Phantom mewled, an empty squeak filled with empty air, as Fenton pulled away. The ghost's breathing was erratic, one moment deep gasping, the next he could barely inhale. Reality came back to Phantom, without the stimulation.
And then Fenton
P
U
L
L
E
D
and stopped. And
P
U
S
H
E
D.
It scratched against him. Dragged and coaxed, teased and tickled. Chafed and placated.
It made Phantom hard.
He could feel it, the ectoplasm in his veins, as it pulsed. Could feel himself getting longer, thicker, transitioning from soft to hard. And he could feel himself engulf the rod as his cock grew. It was as stunning to watch as it was to feel, seeing his cock engulf more and more of the rod. The rod felt as though it was in motion, moving deeper into him.
“Oh. Um.” Fenton steadied the rod as Phantom's erection quivered and pulsed, before his other hand came to curl around the erection itself, holding it steady. “This is... Uh. I... wasn't expecting that. I'm sorry to ruin your fun – and my fun, because let's face it, watching you squirm because of me is fuel for a whole lot of cold showers in the future, but – we kinda have to bring this to an end. Don't wanna have you off your game because you couldn't cum properly.”
Fenton's grip on the rod tightened, and he began to pull. Slowly at first, and Phantom was left to watch as, one by one, each of the bubbles made by the rods ribs were pulled out of him. At first it was at a rate of one every five seconds, each one leaving in an agonizing denouement of sensation, until it was one every second, and then none.
Phantom whined at the loss, at how empty he felt, and bucked his hips, trying to reach out and pull it back in him. Lube and pre-cum oozed out of the enlarged urethra, viscous and an opaque off-white that made it seem like Phantom was enjoying a long, slow orgasm.
“Don't worry. I'll care for you well enough. Just gotta put this where I'll remember to wash it good and clean for next time.” Fenton slid over to the desk, where a jewelry box stood open and waiting. Once the sound was safely away, the human returned to his counterpart, who was still laying against the bed, panting and gasping.
With a smile, Fenton reached down and curled his fingers around the seemingly forgotten erection. A light squeeze and a stroke, and Phantom was lost to the bliss as he came. Burnt ozone hung heavy in the air, and when the stars – and smoke – faded from his eyes, Phantom was staring at a charred ceiling, before his gaze flickered over to–
Oh.
Fenton's hair was streaked with strands of white, trailing down to a streaked face, licking at a hand positively dripping in cum.
I will aggressively work towards finishing and posting the heroic amusement kink smut by that day. Possibly also doing at least one other of the *counts up backlog* sweet pissing fucknuggets eleven other ficlets I've got set to do, if there's time.
