17 with phantom, rain, and dew? 👉👈
Slick and wet, the sound of a desperate paced desire pervaded the air. The associated scent surely hung thick, musk and something faintly metallic. Nothing about it was discreet, not that they were trying to be - Rain hardly ever cared to be, and Phantom wasn't capable of it.
He tried in vain to muffle himself; hand clamped over his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose, eyes rolled back as he cants his hips forward.
Rain's eyes also roll, but in sheer annoyance. He sneered and dug his heel into the other ghoul's lower back.
"Do you plan on fucking me like you mean it or are you going to keep wasting my time?" He propped himself up enough to grab his wrist and drag it into place on the other side of his waist. "You wanted my attention so badly, work to keep it or I'll find someone who can."
“I can do it, I can I promise-” he panted and shifted the way his hands sat on him, holding tightly like Rain’s disappointment might drive him from beneath him.
Phantom's thumbs dug into the valley between his hip bones as he thrust into him again. Less hesitant than he had been. More eager to please than anything, surely emboldened by the water ghoul's threats, he pinned him in place on the desk and fucked into him in earnest. Rain wondered if he could feel the way his dick stretched him with every thrust beneath his thumbs. He wasn’t large by any means, but that didn’t change just how perfectly he filled him, how he could feel him in the deepest parts of himself.
"Fucking finally-!" Rain's head thumped lightly against the wood with a particularly rough snap of his hips, his sigh cut short. Gasping as the blunt head of his cock nudged at a bed of nerves.
His body tensed, walls bearing down in approval that Rain wouldn't waste the oxygen in saying.
Phantom groaned, purple eyes fixed on the place their bodies met. Enamored by the way his cock splitting the water ghoul open made Rain’s engorged clit visibly twitch. Dusky pink and jutting out from between his slick folds. Rain let his palm slide over his belly, following the dark and coarse hair that trailed south, graciously spreading his lips to give him a proper look at it. He choked, his pace coming to stutter slightly as he chewed at his lower lip.
Rain bit the inside of his cheek, the urge to smile in self satisfaction threatening to give him away entirely. Phantom's fascination was near enough worship for him.
Like the simple gasp was all the encouragement he needed, Phantom took to a quick pace, abusing the angle that seemed to force every pleasured sound Rain was capable of making out of him. Without verbal praise he sought out a more physical variety, and every clench of heat around him was reward enough.
Tossing his head to move the hair from his eyes, Phantom lifted his gaze briefly and abruptly froze like a deer in headlights.
"You finally figured out how to make yourself useful, why in the seven hells did you stop?!" Rain snapped, somewhere between a hiss and a sob.
"So this is where you've been?"
Rain's brow furrowed as he tipped his head back, an awkward arch, unintentionally baring his throat to the one above him. In the doorway an upside down fire ghoul, the dim light of the office space emphasizing the orange burn in his narrowed eyes.
"Droplet," he purred easily and felt Phantom's cock pulse inside him, still buried deep. He smiled and Dew's frown turned into a full blown scowl.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" He practically growled and Rain rolled his eyes. “You ditched me to go fuck the newbie? Couldn’t keep it in your pants for a few hours?”
Above him, Phantom stammered. Caught on a syllable with all the grace of a kid caught elbow deep in the cookie jar, Rain wasn’t sure if he was trying to make excuses or apologize. Dew took a step forward, the old wooden floors creaking obnoxiously under his weight, and Phantom flinched like his gaze alone was enough to burn him. Rain seized both of his wrists when he moved to withdraw. Just the inch he’d managed to pull out of him was too much for Rain’s liking. Phantom had carved a space out inside of him, and without him his body felt painfully empty, and he would never admit that out loud.
He hauled his hands back into place like they belonged there to begin with.
“I didn’t tell you to stop, baby bat,” Rain warned though his tone held all the sweetness as a spoonful of cough syrup, and Phantom blinked wide eyed and confused. Whiplash rattling around behind his semi glassy eyes. “Don’t get shy on me now, you were doing so well.”
It was clear from the way his face twisted that something ugly and jealous simmered in Dew the longer he stood there, the longer he watched. Rain watched, almost gleefully, as his mate ran his tongue over his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides. Barely tempered irritation came with the faintest scent of gasoline.
He dragged Phantom close with a heavy hand on the back of his neck, nipping lightly at his earlobe before the little ghoul instinctively hid against his neck. Thin fingers tangled into his dark hair, the quintessence ghoul gave an experimental roll of his hips and let out a shuddered sigh.
A twitch in Dew’s face. Rain’s smile was certainly wicked, he knew exactly what he was doing. He often did.
“Let him watch,” he breathed softly into his mussed up hair and Phantom nodded with the faintest whimper. Pleasure and pride mingled in his belly. “Want him to see just how good you are for me, how you fuck me…Show him how high my standards are.”
Rain didn’t even try to swallow back the sound Phantom managed to punch out of him when he fucked back into him, hard enough to jolt his entire body forward. Insult to injury. Fuel to a fire.
He also didn’t bother to look back at Dew. Knowing full well that even as his fire ghoul steamed and growled somewhere low in his chest, he’d consciously made the decision to remain, to watch, to blatantly pretend his cock wasn’t fattening up in his jeans.
He could already feel the scalding hands around his throat. The bruises Phantom would leave on his hips would be nothing compared to the welts Dew was bound to gift him in kind.
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"Who knew that I would be
So unexpectedly, undeniably happier,
Sitting with you right here, right here next to me?"
x~x~x~x
HPHM Cardverse developed by @ariparri // Jacob's outfit // Duncan's outfit (plus a coat and sash)
x~x~x~x
The Best Ideas Jacob Cromwell's Ever Come Up With
(according to the "Counselor" of Spades, Duncan Ashe)
A new variation of steam-powered engine powered by a combination of hydroelectric and solar energy. (This would be tested successfully both on the royal zepplin and to power the entire palace and its surrounding buildings, cutting the overall cost of energy production in the Country of Spades by a good twenty percent.)
Several new vaccines, many of which adapted into oral supplements so as to make it easier to vaccinate small children. (Jacob specifically wanted to make something that people who are afraid of needles would be able to take safely, as his little sister Carewyn got very teary as a toddler, when getting her first shots.)
Mecha suits specifically designed to protect coal miners in treacherous underground conditions. (This idea would sadly be "co-opted" by the Tyrant of Spades Patricia Rakepick and repurposed into weapons of war. Fortunately the Joker called the "Escape Artist" destroyed every last one of them before they could be used to attack other parts of Cinderhaven.)
"We could just lock old Madam Ace in her office for a night. Then maybe you could force the army to cut their spending." (Sadly this idea, however tempting and amusing it might've been, was one Duncan couldn't go along with.)
A close-to-unbreakable puzzle lock, perfect for small drawers or boxes. (Jacob put this on Duncan's desk as a belated birthday gift, after he suspected Rakepick was sending spies around to try to rifle through his papers. The Spades technological expert took it upon himself to take out ten different books on locking mechanism and even consult with a locksmith for two weeks when constructing it, and it's thanks to this undertaking that Jacob became very, very proficient at picking locks himself.)
A record player that could be powered through pressing a pedal, rather than being plugged in with electricity. (Jacob put this on the desk in his workshop so that he could play music with his foot, while working on other projects. Duncan actually gifted Jacob several records to play on it, including Sitting on Top of the World, which is one of his favorite songs.)
"Let me come with you, Ashe. Rakepick's stooges will think twice about messing with you, if I'm there." (They didn't, at first. Fortunately Jacob ended up shutting up one particularly mouthy bloke, after he had the audacity to suggest Duncan only ever tapped people for positions at court if he was sleeping with them. Clearly a mean-spirited, untrue dig at his BFF Coby and both obvious and oblivious OTL Jacob. Jacob punched the guy so hard in the face that he nursed a bruised jaw for a solid three weeks. After that, no one dared say a single bad word about Duncan in Jacob's earshot.)
A prototype of a dirigible shaped like a dragon, powered by both wind and hydroelectric power, which uses giant wings to steer. (This also was eyed by Rakepick as something that she could modify into a weapon of war. Fortunately none of her subordinates were sharp enough to figure out how to give such an "air dragon" the ability to breathe fire without damaging the modified prototypes.)
A set of sparkling silver cuff links that, when the sides are squeezed, expanded into very sharp hatpins. (Inspired by the hatpins women sometimes wore in their hats for self-defense, Jacob made these as yet another birthday gift for Duncan, with the idea of them being helpful for self-defense. Duncan personally found them a little gaudy, but wore them anyway.)
"Come on, Ashe...you sing the next line!" (The night that Jacob finally encouraged Duncan to come over to the Cromwell house for dinner, he encouraged Duncan to sing along with him and Carewyn the way they always did, whenever they rode the trolley home together. Duncan actually did hold his own incredibly well alongside the two trained singers, and soon he, Carewyn, and Jacob were all singing together. It was one of the few times in Duncan's life -- alongside his times with Veruca and Coby -- that Duncan felt the way he imagined other people felt, with their families.)
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i saw this tweet that said ‘if you’re bringing your man to girls night, can we fuck him?’ and it got me thinking about rafe.
he doesn’t originally insist on being dragged along to the bar with your friends, but he sees the length of your skirt and changes his tune, demanding you let your friends know that they’re just going to have to ‘deal with it.’ they had less of a problem with him tagging along than you imagined, they know what rafe’s like — and know better than to argue against it before he swipes you from the plans all together.
you’d already had a little to drink to pregame by yourself whilst you got ready, so when everyone starts drinking from the bar — you’re just that little bit more gone than the rest of your friends. it’s the reason you don’t seem to notice the way they’re fawning over him, leaning on their hand with gooey heart eyes when he tells a story, having loosened up. you don’t notice the way they stroke his thick arms or smack playfully at his chest when he makes a dumb joke. he’s honestly rather clueless to it at first too, especially due to the lack of reaction from you, his sweet thing sat on his leg at the table scratching at the back of his buzzed head, too drunk to care about anyone else.
he doesn’t wanna fuck ‘em. no way. he was obsessed with you, the thought wouldn’t even cross his mind. but he wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t like the attention a little bit. he’d entered this new phase of life, rafe cameron the man. the boss. having a bunch of girls surrounding him must’ve looked great, especially when they were practically whoring themselves out to him like this. thoughts of treating tannyhill like a playboy mansion briefly dusts his mind.
he agrees to drop everyone home, and has to wrangle them to his truck, a chorus of drunk girls giggling and stumbling just so he’d grapple them, because it was the polite thing to do. they’d even taken to calling him ‘dad’ when he did so, which he thought might’ve been the final straw for you — but still your eyes are on him, a hazy lustful smile and heavy lashes.
it’s only when they cut the act and beg you to let them come in and ‘play with rafe’ a little longer that you catch on, shutting the door in their face — the intoxication doing nothing to soothe your confusion and upset.
he reassures you by folding you like a pretzel and fucking you deep on the bed, all of your clothes and uncomfortable shoes discarded and he grinds you into the mattress.
“‘fuck you crying for, hm? clearly don’t want anyone else but my sweet girl. only ever gonna fuck this pretty little pussy. you understand?” it’s his version of reassurance and it does the trick, grabbing him repeatedly where you could just trying to draw him close.
“mine.” is all you can say, over and over.
“yeah, you’re damn right about that.”
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Being Miguel’s younger spider Girlfriend.
You’re his everything, he rather keep you sitting on his desk talking his ear off rather than sending you off on missions— he doesn’t want to risk you getting hurt.
When he first went to your dimension, He honestly had to rethink recruiting you to the spider society—he wanted to keep you all to himself, hidden from everyone else.
You were so full of life, and attitude. But still so cool and collected. You were Young— a 10 year age difference.
But you were so pretty, he had to make you his.
“I’ll be your girlfriend— only if you let me join this so call society you’re from.”
He accepted easily, and even introduced you to everyone, urging you to keep your mask on Though— everyone wasn’t worthy of seeing your face like he was.
You were charismatic too, becoming quite popular with everyone pretty quickly— mostly the spiders that were actually your age.
Especially Hobie.
Hobie became a good friend quickly, being the first one other than miguel to see your face. He liked you. Not only because you were the boss’s pretty girl.
But also cause you were easy to talk to, easy to coax and shift your beliefs to match his.
You were his to mold into the perfect rebel.
Who cares if you had to sneak around behind miguel’s back to hang out, just for hobie to have you cumming all over his face, he liked you a lot.
He didn’t care if you didn’t want to break up with Miguel, he’s perfectly fine with you seeing you on the side.
For now, miguel could have you— but once you flipped over a leaf to be the perfect rioter.
You were all hobie’s.
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