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#to get in his pants because he has nice arms
4unnyr0se · 2 days
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❥ librarian | chuuya nakahara
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warnings: fem! reader, meet cute, chuuya is a flirt bc i said so, wined and dined, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, bedroom sex, hickeys, making out, hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, rough sex, whiny chuuya, corruption kink(?), reader does not know how to dress to save her life, sugar daddy(?) chuuya, unironic lip biting, chuuya is one hell of a chef, dirty talk, reader reads smut, semi-proofread
MDNI | 18+ content
word court -> 4.7k
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“Excuse me, could you keep your voice down, please? It’s a library…” was something that you said more often than you would like to admit. Sure, you only took the library job because of how insanely introverted you were, but that was neither here nor there. You thought that people would have more respect for a place that let you borrow as many books as you wanted, but nope. It was either filled with screaming children, teenagers kissing in the nonfiction section, or the elderly who didn’t know how to open their email accounts, bless them.
Other than the constant shushing (and the resulting glares you get from people you’ve shushed), the library job was nice. It was comforting, it had decent pay, and you got to keep some of the books that no one wanted to check out anymore. Hell, you even got hit on once or twice by freakishly tall men. Then again, all men were freakishly tall in your eyes. You fit the tiny librarian stereotype quite well, which your fellow librarians found to be adorable. 
Standing in the true crime section, your heeled feet stood on a step stool so you could better organize books about mafia activity in past decades. It wasn’t a very popular section by any means, mostly because the locals that frequented the library thought that true crime a was bit too niche. You didn’t mind really, it just meant that you got to be on the opposite side of the building and away from the screaming children. Often you wondered what it would be like to be a witness to a mafia hit, how the adrenaline pumping in your veins would make you feel. Lost in your train of thought, you neglected to notice that you were slowly slipping off of the step stool, the backings of your high heels teetering off the edge. It wasn’t a steep drop by any means but it would hurt pretty damn badly if you fell. 
Taking an ignorant step back, the back of your heel found nothing to land on. Yelping slightly, you spread your arms out and waved them back and forth in what was probably the world's weakest attempt at flying. “Oh shit-” you closed your eyes shut and braced for impact, hoping that you wouldn’t land on the sharp metal bookshelves behind you.
The impact never came. Instead, you felt a warm embrace of someone holding you. You opened up one eye carefully, your baby hairs covering your forehead. 
“Hey, you okay?” A deep and raspy voice snapped both of your eyes open, your gaze landing on a head of ginger hair. The man smirked at you and let you down, making sure you didn’t have any scratches by scanning your body up and down. Or maybe he was checking you out, who knows?
“Uh, yeah. I think I’ll be fine.” You nodded, dusting off your pants. No scuffs on the expensive fabric, thank God. “Thanks for making sure I didn’t hit my head, by the way. Not everyone would do that.”
The man crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, giving you a questioning look. “You must work with some real assholes then. In my line of work, ladies don’t get treated like crap. At least the ones who everyone respects.”
“Seriously? Damn, that seems like a really good job.” You smiled at him, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.
“Eh…it has some setbacks. I won’t get into it now, too much bullshit to unpack here.” He bit the inside of his cheek, holding out his hand for you to shake. It was gloved, he seemed like a gentleman. Or maybe he just really didn’t like getting dirt on his hands.
You smiled and eagerly took his hand, looking into his subtly blue eyes. They really complimented his ginger hair and pale complexion, hell, he even looked like the main character in a popular romance novel. 
“Chuuya Nakahara, at your service.” He smirked once more, letting go of your hand. He noticed that your hands were smaller than his own, in fact, you were actually smaller than he was. And that was rare, considering he was in close competition with most middle schoolers in the height category. “What’s your name? I wanna know the name of the women I saved from eating absolute shit.”
You giggled and told him your name, putting your hands in your pockets. Chuuya thought your giggle was sweet, like a song bird. It was a welcome sound in his life. After all, Chuuya was used to gunshots and screams instead of the giggling of a cute librarian with a name that fitted her oh so right. 
“You got a cute name, y’know. Hope you don’t mind me sayin’ that.” Chuuya placed his hands in his pockets as well, fiddling with the lintballs in the corners of the expensive fabric. 
The silent was quite awkward between the two of you. Chuuya, a secret mafia boss who’s experience with women was tainted with expensive red wine. And yourself, a librarian who was so introverted that the world could end and you’d jump for joy. 
And yet, something brought the two of you out of your own little worlds and into each others? Was it love, perhaps? Unlikely. Chuuya thought that love at first sight was for suckers, and you thought that love at first sight only existed in movies.
No, there was only unspoken desires between you both. Heart rates quickening, blushes forming on your faces. Chuuya’s mind was racing, his thoughts plagued by images of you. He just met you but god were you sexy. That fucking thrifted turtleneck sweater contrasted hard with your expensive designer jeans that were no doubt a Christmas gift from a wealthy relative. You had no idea how to dress and Chuuya thought that was the most precious thing. Were you really that innocent, locked away in your own little world? You probably had no idea that your sweater hugged the curves of your tits perfectly, that your pants showed off your thighs so expertly. God, it drove Chuuya wild.
What did your lips feel like, so plump and perfect? Where they untained, fresh as snow? Or were you just putting on an act, secretly a vixen behind that innocent and soft stare? Chuuya didn’t know, but he just had to find out. The redhead had only just met you but holy fuck, you were simply perfect. He had to get a taste, even if it was the last thing he did. 
“So what’s a pretty thing like you workin’ in a place like this? Do they pay you well or somethin’?” Chuuya asked, leaning against the metal shelving that held the American history collection.
You shook your head and sighed, placing a hand on your hip in frustration. “Unfortunately no, I could really use a raise.” You sighed, running a hand through your comically messy hair. “The only reason I can afford my apartment is that my parents left me quite a bit of money when I said I wanted to live on my own. I’m a lucky person, I guess.” You chuckled at the last bit, flashing Chuuya a smile that drove him crazy. He faked a cough to hide the obvious lump growing in his throat, a tinge of pink dusting his freckled face. 
“Yeah, you really are lucky.” He took a step foreward, placing his thumb on your chin, tilting your head up ever so slightly so his eyes met your own. “And you’re really fucking pretty.” He whispered, taking his hand off your chin. 
“O-oh, thank you.” You stammered, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked down at your feet. The Mary Jane’s you wore wree slightly scuffed, they always have been. It adds a bit of character, one could say. Chuuya smiled softly and adjusted his hat, taking a step back to give you space.
“Listen, I have work that I gotta get back to or else my boss will kill me. Can we meet up at your place after that. Y’know, only if ya want to. I’m no pusher.” He blushed at the last part, rubbing the back of his neck to avoid making direct eye contact with you. It was strange, Chuuya has always been smooth with the women he met in bars. So why were you making him so flustered? Maybe it was because unlike the girls he picked up before, you were innocent. Pure, like fresh snow. 
You were taken aback by his flirtations, though they weren’t unwelcome. You stopped fidgeting with your fingers for a moment, biting down on the plumpness of your lower lip.
“What, cat got your tongue or something?” Chuuya grinned, proud of himself for his little joke.
N-no, well not exactly.” You mumbled, sucking in a deep breath so you could look at the devilishly handsome man in front of you. “I’ve, God this is embarrassing, I haven’t been on a date since college.” Sighing, you stared at the bookshelf next to you. “It’s pathetic, I know. I get if you aren’t interested in me anymore.”
Chuuya frowned and took his hands out of his pockets, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t give a fuck if you’ve been on zero dates or a million of them. That doesn’t matter. I asked if you wanted me to come over so I can fuckin’ cook for you.”
“You can cook?”
“What kind of world are you living in? Of course I cook, what kind of man can’t cook?” Chuuya pinched his temple with his fingers, silently cursing all the worlds incompetent men that drove the standard to decency so low that it was practically in hell. “Sorry, didn’t mean to shout at ya. Old habits.”
“Don’t worry about it, I deal with screaming children all day. You’re fine.” You smile, taking out your phone. “Here, put your number in and I’ll give you my address.”
Chuuya shook his head, a bead of sweat dripping from his brow. “Actually, um, my phone is broken right now. How about you just write it down for me, dollface?” He couldn’t risk putting your information into his phone, what if Mori was going through it? He could deem you a security risk and then only God knows what would happen. Chuuya wouldn’t risk it, he had to make sure you were okay with his…business before he did anything too personal like give you his contact information. 
“Oh, sure. I guess giving you my number is too personal, sorry.” You awkwardly chuckled, leading him to the main library desk. You ripped off a sticky note from the pad and wrote down your address in pretty cursive letters. Chuuya smiled to himself as he saw your handwriting, it was the cutest fucking thing. You were absolutely a librarian, no doubt about it.
“So, see you at seven?” He asked, shoving the sticky note into his jacket pocket.
“Seven’s all right. What will you be making me?” You asked, beginning to type away at the library computer.
“It’s a surprise.” Chuuya winked at you, turning around and walking away. You blushed and resting your cheek on your hand. In your mind you were dancing in happiness, finally having landed a date. And such a good looking one at that. Who the hell cares if he’s short, he’s tall to you. Height doesn’t matter anyways.
Your shift ended and you practically skipped out of the library building, clutching onto the messenger bag that carried your erotic novels. The library didn’t carry anything erotic, you just disguisted the books with false covers about local history and lore. No one would be into that shit, so it was the perfect plan. The stories consisted of fantasy romances with sections that were so arousing that you couldn’t read it without thinking that you were committing some sort of sin. 
Stepping up the stairs to your apartment, you opened the door and shut it quickly as to not attract any unwanted pests. Mostly bugs, they’ve become a real problem. What would Chuuya think if he saw a bug in your apartment? Your mind was speeding, anxiety building up in your belly. This was your first date in a while, what if you fuck it up somehow? Or worse, what if it goes too well and he wanted to have his way with you. Chuuya was too handsome to refuse sure, but what about you? You couldn’t even remember the last time you had sex, let alone kissed somebody? Oh God, what if that turned him off and he never spoke to you again?
“Dammit, snap out of it!” You slapped yourself across the face, hissing slightly at the pain. Putting yourself together, you strode over to your bedroom and pulled out a dress from way back in your closet. It was a decent length dress with spaghetti straps, your fanciest piece of clothing. The rest of your wardrobe consisted of sweatpants, tank tops with cartoon characters on it, the occasional designer jean, and several thrifted sweaters that had absolutely been worn by a grandfather. 
The dress slipped onto you no problem, like a glove. You didn’t bother wearing any tights or stockings, the dress covered your legs up nicely. You decided to just leave your hair as it was, draped nicely around your shoulders. Light makeup here and there, if you could count mascara and lipgloss as makeup.
Exiting your bedroom, your hands dropped to their sids as you sat down on your living room sofa. There wasn’t anything good on the TV, and reading an erotic novel before Chuuya got there would have probably ruined the mood for you. Was getting ready too early a mistake? Maybe.
Your eyes watched the clock, your pupils going in circles as the second hand made its rotation over and over again until it was about 6:55PM. A knock was heard at your door, snapping you out of the cycle of clock-looking. 
Squealing quietly, you speed-walked over to your door. Taking a deep breath in, you opened the door and there Chuuya stood, holding a bag of groceries in one hand and a singular red rose in the other. “Hey there pretty girl, mind if I come in?”
“O-of course, Chuuya. Uh, sorry.” You stammered, shutting the door as he let himself inside. Chuuya stood in the foyer of your apartment for a moment, quickly noticiny the hundreds of books the lined the shelves. “I don’t know why I’m so surprised doll, shoulda known you’re a huge nerd.” He chuckled, handing you the rose. His outfit was not too different from that afternoon, only the hat and the jacket were missing.
“Thank you, it’s really pretty.” You blushed, placing the rose in a nearby empty vase. “So, um, what are you making me tonight? I’m starving.” You led him into the kitchen, helping him set down the groceries on the counter.
“Kobe beef,” Chuuya said nonchalantly, looking around the kitchen. “Where are your knives? Don’t see em anywhere.”
“In that drawer right there- did you saya kobe beef?” You gasped, taking a step back. “B-but that’s really expensive! This is just a first date y’know, I would have accepted take out!” You stammered, not used to the treatment. Did he really just buy kobe beef for you? How much does he get paid?
“Yeah, what about it? You a vegetarian or something?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow, opening the beef from its luxurious packaging and placing it on the simple wooden cutting board. 
“No, it’s just that…well kobe is really expensive and this is a first date! It’s not even at the nice restaurant or anything, it’s my fucking house!” You whisper-yelled at him, walking foreward so your face was inches away from your own. Your shyness was replaced with anxiety, anxiety that you really had no excuse to have.
Chuuya smiled and patted you on the head, rubbing on your hair with his gloved hand. “Don’t worry about that princess, just have a seat and let me cook for you, yeah?” He assured you, gesturing to your kitchen table. “And besides, you’re dressed up like a five course meal, so shouldn’t you be treated to one?” He smirked, finishing up the chopping of the beef. He figured out how to work your stove pretty quickly, placing the beef in a pan with a little bit of truffle oil. The stove roared to life as the beef began to quickly sizzle, a wonderful aroma that smelled like luxury filled your apartment.
You blushed at Chuuya’s comment, sitting yourself down in the chair. You watched him cook, his brows furrowed in concentration.
The beef was done cooking after a bit, being carefully plated with an array of incredibly looking vegetables. Chuuya sat across from you and took your hand in his own, kissing the back of yours tenderly.
“Bon appetit, princess.” He grinned at you, his eyes hiding a lust that was so extreme Asmodeous himself was jealous. He observed how you ate the beef so carefully, so tenderly. You savored each and every bite, sighing occasionally as the flavors hit your tongue over and over again. Chuuya bit his lip as he watched you eat, barely touching his own dinner. You looked absoltuely succulent in front of him, oblivious to how you were making him feel. Chuuya wanted to shove everything off the table and fuck you right then and there, but he decided to be a gentlemen about it. Dine you, maybe wine you, and only touch your pretty body if you wanted him too. 
You finished your meal quickly, frowning to yourself at Chuuya’s full plate. “Are you not hungry or something?” You asked, ignoring the bits of beef resting at the corner of your mouth. 
“I’m hungry for…something else.” Chuuya smirked, grabbing your dirty plate and placing it in the sink. He stepped over to you and took your hand, hoisting you up from your chair. Carefully, his arm wrapped around your waist so he could pull you in closer to his own form, his fingers running up and down your hip bone. “If you know what I mean.”
You blushed and slowly nodded your head, noticing how his perfect blue eyes seemed to have fireballs igniting within the azure pools. “I…I do. I just…I haven’t had sex in a while. Kind of goes hand-in-hand with the whole dating thing.” You awkwardly laughed to yourself, hoping a joke would lighten the tension.
“I could change that for you dollface, if you want me to.” Chuuya purred, tilting your chin up to his lips were just hovering above yours. “Just say the word sweetheart, and I’ll make you see stars.” He whispered, his hot breath touching your trembling lips.
You thought for a moment, your mouth still agape at Chuuya’s boldness. “...okay.” You breathed against his lips, mere centimeters away.
With your consent, Chuuya crashed his lips against yours. With one hand clutching ont your waist, the other cupped your face quite gently. His kiss was rough and passionate, groaning into your mouth at the sensation that he had so long been craving.
Your hands flew to grab onto his hair, tugging at the longer part. Chuuya moaned slightly at the sensation, squeezing the fabric of your dress. He pulled himself away slowly, choosing to instead attack the delicate flesh of your neck. His lips found your sweetspot and sucked harshly, your lips producing the cutest little moans which only made his cock harder. A bright purple hickey formed in no time at all, definitely going to last a few days. 
“You wear turtlenecks, right? Shouldn’t be a fuckin’ problem then.” He growled against your neck, trialing molten kissed down until he reached your collarbone, playfully licking it.
“M-maybe we should go to the bedroom? Comfier.” You managed to squeak out, softly moaning as Chuuya continued to nip and kiss at your collarbone. He pulled away, grumbling at the loss of contact.
“Good idea dollface, smart.” He lifted you up bridal style, chuckling as you squealed. “You’re so fuckin’ adorable baby, y’know that?” He asked, kicking open the door to your bedroom. He practically threw you onto the bed and pounced, pinning your wrists above your head quickly. Chuuya slammed his lips against yours once more, shoving his tongue down your throat as your teeth clashed for dominance. 
Taking a break from the onslaught of tongue-on-tongue, Chuuya gently stroked your face with his still-gloved hand. “Fucking good mouth you got, sweetheart.” He purred, shifting himself so he was looking at your hips. “Now tell me,” His hand reached to his mouth, peeling off his gloves with his teeth. “Do you want my fingers or my tongue first, princess?”
You gulped nervously, your face feeling like it was going to explode at any moment from how fucking horny you were for this man. Your legs were practically shaking under him, how was it possible that one man could make you feel euphoria without fucking you?
“B-both, please…” You whispered, not daring to look into his aflamed blue eyes that burned for you. Your aroused pooled in your belly, just waiting to be taken care of.
Chuuya nodded approvingly, lifting your dress up to reveal your panties that were soaked in your arousal. “Fuckin’ dirty girl, so perfect for me.” He whispered, hastily removing your panties and tossing them into some corner of your bedroom. He shivered at the sight of your glistening core, admiring how otherworldly it looked in the dim lights of your bedroom.
“Shit,” Chuuya groaned, gathering some of your slick on his fingertips before carefully inserting his index and middle finger inside of your sobbing cunt. He wasted no time in curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting them back and forth swiftly.
“Oh fuck, oh my God!” You cried out, throwing your head back even further into the soft pillows beneath you. Your legs wanted so badly to wrap around his hand, trapping him there for a while. 
“That’s it baby, scream for me. Fuckin’ scream for me princess.” He growled, his lips sucking on your clit roughly. His tongue lapped and sucked at your desperate folds, fingers pumping in and out of you like he was in a competition. He could feel your walls sucking him in, knowing your orgasm was close. 
“Fucking cum for me baby, lemem hear those pretty moans of yours!” Chuuya demanded, eating you out like a starved man.
“Oh fuck, Chuuya!” You screamed out his name as your orgasm finally hit, the knot in your belly becoming undone too fast for your own liking. You wish that moment could last forever instead of mere moments. 
Gasping and panting, you propped yourself up by your elbows to be greeted with a chuckling Chuuya, licking off your cum with his expert tongue. “You taste so much better than anything I’ve ever fucking had before princess.” He spoke, his voice low and sultry.
Chuuya briefly got off the bed to take off his pants and boxers, gasping as the air of your bedroom hit his throbbing cock. He relished in your shocked expression, your mouth left hanging wide open at the sight of him.
“What, never seen a big dick before?” He chuckled, getting on top of you once more. He lifted your legs up so they rested on his shoulders, giving him the most perfect angle to fuck you seneless. 
“Not in a while, no.” You retorted, offering Chuuya a smirk of your own. That one simple movement of your facial muscle was all it took for him to align his cock with your entrance, slamming it inside of you.
“That was so fucking hot babe, do it again.” He demanded, pounding himself into your core without giving you any time to adjust to his length or girth. His hands gripped the undersides of your thighs, occasionally smacking the subble skin.
“Ngh, h-holy fuck! Chuuya, shit! So fucking big, oh my fucking God!” You cried out, your hands making desperate motions to grab onto anything. Chuuya bent down, pushing you into a mating press so he could better hold your hand.
“Shit, fucking scream my name babygirl. Fuck, you’re squeezing on to me so damn tight!” He groaned into your ear, his balls snapping against your ass over and over again. Your cheeks were flushed, mouth gaping open. All that left your lips were wanton moans and cries of pleasure as Chuuya’s cock hit your G-spot over and over again, the pleasure once again pooling in your belly.
“Shit! Shit, shit, shit, I’m close! Chuuya, fuck!” You screamed, slamming your lips upwards onto his own. He happily accepted the kiss, biting down onto your lower lip as he felt your cunt contract around his soaked cock.
“Fuck, can you hold out just a little longer baby? Wan’ cum with you, yeah?” He whined against your lips, furiously meeting his hips with your own as the scent of sex and longing filled the bedroom. 
“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!” You cried into his ear, not sure how much longer you could stand to not fall into your orgasm.
He growled against your neck, his thrusts becoming staggered and desperate in a relentless tempo as Chuuya’s own orgasm approached him. “Shit, gonna fucking cum. Cum with me yeah, please fucking come with me!”
A silent scream left your lips as euphoria enveloped your body, wave after wave of ecstasy hitting you as your orgasm finally came. Your arousal squeezed and coated Chuuya’s cock, sending him over the edge.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my God! Fuck…” He gapsed into your neck, his ministrations slowing down until they came to a complete stop. He collapsed onto you, lazily kissing your neck and the hickeys that covered it. 
You smiled, peeling the sweaty hairs away from your face as you embraced Chuuya in your arms. “That was…just like the books I read.” You chuckled, running your fingers through his mess of red hair. “Almost exactly like those books, actually.”
Chuuya looked up from your breast and raised an eyebrow, flipping you around so you were now embraced in his arms. “You read porn?”
You nodded, gesturing to your nightstand. “Yeah, I try to keep it a secret though. My coworkers would never let me live it down if they knew the truth.” You gave him a crooked smile, curling further into his chest. 
He nodded in understanding, kissing your forehead. “Well, we gotta do this again princess. Because that was…well it was fuckin’ amazing. Who knew the cute little librarian was so dirty?” He joked, poking your cheek teasingly.
“I literally just let you finish inside of me and you’re making jokes?”
“Hey, I’m allowed to be funny. I’m a fuckin’ sex god.”
You sighed and kissed his lips, feeling your eyes grow heavy with sleep. “Y’know, I don’t have work tomorrow if you wanted to stay the night…” You yawned, embracing the feeling of coziness and warmth.
Chuuya was a bit shocked by your words at first, smacking his lips together. He smiled down at you, ruffling up your nest of a hair that was no doubt caused by his body moving against yours for a good twenty minutes. “I’d really like that, princess.” He assured you, grabbing his phone from your nightstand to type something in. “Just lettin’ my boss know I’ll be late for my assignment tomorrow.”
“What if he gets mad at you?” You asked, your sleepy voice filled with just a pinch of concern. 
“Well, he can suck my dick for all I care. Although, I’d much rather have you do that.” He winked, throwing the covers above your sweaty forms. “So, are you going to get changed or are we sleeping in our date night clothes?”
“Mm, date night clothes. I don’t think I’ll be able to fucking walk after what you did to me.” You laughed, pulling Chuuya closer. You rested your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat through the expensive shirt he wore. “Have sweet dreams, okay? And…pleae be here when I wake up tomorrow.” You whispered the last part before drifting off, the cutest little snore escaping from your parted lips.
Chuuya sighed and kissed the top of your head, admiring how innocent you looked in your slumber. “I promise beautiful, I’m not going anywhere.”
195 notes · View notes
hypnoneghoul · 14 hours
Text
Attitude
WC: 2,5K
Relationship: Rain/Phantom
Tags: Aquarium Date, Fluff and Smut, Semi-Public Sex, Groping, Dynamic Switch, Degradation, Dumbification, Bathroom Sex, Name-Calling, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Creampie, Coming Untouched
Their date is going well, but Rain’s patience for Phantom’s groping has been running thin for hours. He finally loses it when he grinds his dick against his ass as he bends over a fence. Or Rain and Phantom go on an aquarium date and fuck in the bathroom.
Notes: Commission for @revengeghoulette :3
Read under the cut or on AO3.
Rain wanted to take Phantom out for an aquarium date—or any proper date for that matter—for months now. Between his and Aurora’s summoning and tour there wasn’t much time and they didn’t really know each other well then. The tour itself was too packed and unpredictable and after it finished they all needed some time to recharge. But now, over a year later, the date can finally happen.
Both Phantom and Rain are barely keeping themself from jumping and giggling excitedly, not only at the prospect of seeing all those cute water creatures they’ve been reading and listening about, but also getting to spend some nice time together; go on a real date, like real couples do.
They’ve both got colorful and shiny stickers and maps to be filled with them, with what they’ve already seen—like a checklist. Rain squeezes Phantom’s hand as they walk through the entrance, both grinning.
As they get lost in the dark tunnels—as they get surrounded by darkness, the peaceful sound of water, colorful creatures and each other—they truly get lost in it. It’s brilliant.
Of course at some point one of them gets slightly distracted. Phantom lingers by one fish for a few short moments more than Rain does, and so he waits for him by the next tank. When the quintessence ghoul does turn to him, though, his eyes get caught on Rain’s ass.
That’s when Phantom realizes what pants he’s wearing. It's that pair.
Phantom isn’t religious in the slightest, but he would pray to whatever god sent those pants Rain’s way. His ass was already delicious to look at—and not only—but when he put these on? No one, human or ghoul, could walk past him without staring at his stupidly perfect butt.
The worst thing was that he knew exactly what he was doing, and a glint in his eyes when he saw Phantom’s realization only confirmed it.
Now that Phantom’s noticed, he can’t tear his eyes away from the damn thing. The fish and all the animals are really fascinating and he doesn’t want to waste their time there, but Rain is extremely distracting. And Phantom is a very touchy ghoul.
He tries to be sneaky at first; brushing his hand against him here and there, wrapping an arm around his waist and letting it wander down as if by accident, or gluing himself to him from the back. Just to take a good look at the manta rays, though.
Thankfully, the pants have pockets which—as Phantom figured out some time into their date—are just perfect for him to shove one of his hands into as they walk. Rain grumbles about it, about how it’s not comfortable to walk like that, but it's obvious he enjoys the attention. Of both the quintessence ghoul and other people in the aquarium. Most of the humans wouldn’t have anything nice to say, most likely, but the ghouls absolutely don’t care.
Still, Phantom ends up taking his hand out and sticking to holding hands with Rain. Most of the time, at least, because he absolutely does not miss any opportunity to touch the water ghoul’s ass, maybe even squeeze a little if he’s lucky.
Rain isn’t exactly opposed to that, but at some point it begins to annoy him. Phantom gets distracted, and maybe it’s his own fault for picking those pants to wear, but the quintessence ghoul should be able to behave. Especially in public.
They are enjoying their date, though. The aquarium is huge and full of really interesting animals and Rain and Phantom would stay there for ages if they could.
Thankfully they can take pictures.
They take a lot of them; normal ones of the creatures, selfies, and candid shots of each other. Phantom will end up printing a ton of them out and adding to his already covered wall to admire every day. Maybe he'll give some out to their packmates, too.
He thinks he’s got a favorite one, though. Rain stretching with his arms over his head and eyes closed—with a sliver of skin peeking out from under the hem of his shirt—and a fish that looks just like him in his aquatic form right behind him in the background. The water ghoul also has one that he favors, of Phantom bending back with a huge smile and fitting perfectly to the curve of the water tunnel to look at a huge sea turtle swimming right over him.
They kiss in that same tunnel just as a whale shark swims by them, asking a nice old lady—the only other person there at the moment—to take a picture for them. It turns out surprisingly well for how her hands were shaking.
It’s perfect and they’re both as close to heaven as any ghoul can ever get.
But even though their date is going well and they’re having fun, the water ghoul’s patience for the other’s groping has been running thin for hours. He finally loses it when Phantom all but grinds his dick against his ass as he bends over a fence to look down into one of the open pools where a couple of otters are swimming happily.
They’re nearly at the very end of the aquarium anyway.
Rain growls as he swiftly turns around—not caring for humans all around them, just as Phantom doesn’t—and grabs the other’s wrist. He squeezes just hard enough to be painful and drags him along the line on the floor leading to the end and the bathrooms. Phantom trips and curses under his breath, but can’t deny he’s got a nice view from just behind Rain like this.
The next thing he knows he’s being thrown shoulder first into a swing bathroom door, “Ow!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Rain spits and even though Phantom’s instincts tell him to obey, he think he’s got a better idea. He definitely has a better idea, he just has to wait for the right moment.
The stalls turn out to be big and actually going down to the very floor, and Rain couldn’t be more pleased with it. He wouldn’t, of course, mind getting some additional…ears, here and there—he’s an exhibitionist at heart—but what he wouldn’t want was for them to get thrown out and banned from the place. The aquarium is awesome.
He pushes Phantom into a stall at the very end of a long line of doors and quickly flicks the lock before pressing him against the wall, chest to back. “You just had to piss me off, yeah? Couldn’t have had a nice moment like normal fucking people without you acting like a whore let out into the public?”
“You know I get bored easily,” Phantom bites back and Rain snaps his—suddenly unglamored—teeth right next to his ear. He grabs his arm and yanks it back to spin the quintessence ghoul around and shove him down onto his knees. He goes down without much of a fight, just like he does for Dewdrop on stage, and Rain doesn’t notice how…suspicious that is in these circumstances.
The water ghoul leaves him there and starts to fumble with his zipper, nearly ripping it open. He would if it were any other pair of pants. Phantom watches with hungry eyes and waits and just when Rain is about to pull the waistband down just enough to get his cock out, the quintessence ghoul goes for it.
He grabs his hips and turns him—so rapidly Rain loses his footing—to face the wall. On instinct he puts his hands to brace himself and he’s so surprised by the sudden switch he can do nothing but whine as Phantom drags his jeans down to his very ankles.
“You fucking wanted this,” the quintessence ghoul laughs. “If anyone’s a whore in here it’s you, Rainy.”
Rain’s brain immediately gets fuzzy.
The sweet whine Phantom gets from him as an answer pulls another cruel laugh out of him and he stays on his knees, but shuffles closer. He knocks Rain’s legs further apart—as much as the pants and underwear around his ankles allow—and goes right for his ass. The water ghoul gasps against the tiled wall when Phantom grabs his cheeks and starts kneading.
“B–batsy, come on,” he mumbles and, only proving his earlier words, pushes his hips back; suddenly very eager.
“Whore, as I said,” the other says quietly, more to himself than Rain. “I bet you’re soaked already, let’s see–”
With that he spreads him and hums—Rain can’t gather if it’s in approval, or the opposite. The water ghoul really is soaked already, his hole truly drooling slick. A minute more with his underwear up and he’d have a sizable wet patch for Phantom to mock.
That may, or may not, give him an idea for later.
For now, though, he leans in to taste him—licking a stripe from his taint up to where his tail would be if he wouldn’t be glamored. Rain moans wantonly at that. His legs shake already.
The quintessence ghoul notices and grabs him just below the knees to gift him a tiny bit of stabilization before he truly dives in.
He shoves his face between Rain’s cheeks and licks into him sloppily, both because he likes it like that and because a whore like him deserves to be licked and fucked messy. The water ghoul cries out, letting out whimpers one after the other as he holds onto the wall for dear life. His cock is dripping like a faucet right onto said wall and Rain can’t even feel disgusted about his tip touching the—most likely filthy—tile.
“Phantom, please, please, I–lemme,” he doesn’t really know what he’s begging for. For him to stop, to never stop, to cum, or whatever else; Phantom isn’t listening to him anyway. He thinks about unglamoring his tongue to reach even deeper, to fuck Rain up even more. Maybe with an additional spark of quintessence, to really hit him.
Phantom pulls back to look up at him, though, and Rain doesn’t seem to be needing any more messing up. He’s already absolutely blissed out.
He licks into him once again—just to indulge himself and feel the water ghoul clenching around his tongue some more, before he completely moves away. Rain lets out a little panicked noise, but Phantom isn’t gone for long.
He shoves three fingers inside him with not much preamble, more to pull yet another sinful cry out of him than to test the stretch. Phantom curls the digits and all but abuses Rain’s prostate with his fingertips for a longer moment, until the water ghoul’s looking like he’s just about to fold and melt into a puddle of goop on the floor.
The quintessence ghoul stands up, then, opens his own pants, and pulls his dick out, stroking it once or twice for good measure, before he folds himself over the other’s back to growl right into his ear, “Shouldn’t have worn these pants, you were just asking for it with ‘em.”
Phantom slams his cock into Rain’s ass balls deep right away and if he thought the water ghoul’s noises were pretty earlier, this one was just divine. 
He takes little—if any—regard to the other’s comfort or pleasure, fucking his slick hole with abandon; simply chasing his own release. He’ll make it up to him later, and he knows Rain will make him pay for this, too, but for now Phantom can only enjoy himself.
His claws are glamored, so he doesn’t draw blood, but he still grips Rain’s waist with enough force to bruise. He knows it will and he can’t wait to admire his marks later.
Rain is whining and moaning and crying against the wall as he claws at it. His cheek gets squeezed against the tile with every move of the quintessence ghoul and Rain can barely breathe. He doesn’t have enough brain left in him to drop his glamor and flare his gills back to life.
He pants with his tongue out like a dog, but Phantom’s eyes get dragged to his own, and he grins when tears start to flow down the bright red of Rain’s cheeks.
“Awww, Rainy,” he coos with faux sympathy and kindness. “Too much for your stupid brain, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll give you something a dumb whore will understand.”
The water ghoul moans so loud it echoes through the bathroom and slams back into Phantom’s ears so hard it nearly hurts. Rain’s ass grips his cock like a vice and with one more slam of his hips the other realizes that he’s just cum all over the stall wall completely untouched.
“Slut,” Phantom grunts out once again before burying himself in him as far as he’ll go. He shoves his face into the back of the water ghoul’s neck and his glamored fangs itch to bite and suck a bruise into that fair skin. He shudders as Rain keeps wildly clenching around him and he can’t hold his orgasm back any more.
Phantom cums with a groan and Rain echoes it at the feeling of getting pumped full. He’s barely standing—held up mostly by the other ghoul, though he, too, sags as he comes down from his high.
He pulls out, breathing heavily, and bends down to pull Rain’s pants back up right away. The water ghoul can only whimper with confusion as he feels warm cum slowly leaking out of him and into his underwear. Phantom grabs him by the shoulders and turns him so they’re face to face.
“Damn, you’re a wreck,” he laughs at Rain’s fucked out state. He wipes his tears and smooths down his clothes and hair, putting him back together as best as he can.
“Phantom, the–the…can I clean up–” the water ghoul murmurs, but the other doesn’t let him finish.
“Nuh-uh. You’re carrying it back home so I can fuck you all sloppy again,” Phantom tells him and the casualty twists Rain’s insides. “Maybe I’ll invite the others, tell them exactly how our little date went because of how much of a whore you are.”
He takes off his flannel shirt—a bit sweaty now—and hands it to him by the sleeves. Rain takes it with shaky hands and looks at the other with a questioning look, unsure why he needs it.
“Around your waist. Time to cover yourself up,” Phantom explains and Rain nods with burning cheeks as he does, indeed, tie it around his waist.
After a moment of staring at him with still hungry eyes, the quintessence ghoul speaks again. “Unless you do want everyone to see your pretty ass leaking my cum through these slutty jeans.”
Rain mewls pitifully and looks at the other with a stare worth a kicked puppy. Phantom softens a bit and wraps an arm around his waist to bring him close and offer some comfort. He really was mean and rough.
“Come on, Rainy,” he whispers and kisses his cheek with gentleness he’s been lacking just moments before. “I’ll get you another otter plushie, okay? I love you.”
Rain smiles weakly as he nods. “Love you, too.”
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tomorrcwz · 2 days
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. ⋆⠀⁺ BURN YOUR FINGERTIPS / library
jenson button x reader
when jenson sends you letter after letter, you give him attention and a part of your heart but does he handle it carefully or are you one of the girls?
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jenson button holds the reputation of being a notorious flirt because of his natural charm, the smooth contact of finger gazing on the other person's arm or back, and the effortless comfort of fitting in any situation, wherever he knows the people or not. he's a winner in that sense, can never stops himself to talk to whoever is available.
the brit could charm his way out of an interview, literally anything, if we're being honest.
you, on the other hand, are simpler, much more introverted and less likely to be interested in chatting with absolte strangers. this isn't your kind of thing, though it doesn't mean you'll sit quietly in a group sitting. it's depending on the people you surround yourself with, the current mood and how low your social battery is.
so the letter attached to a small box does surprise you but you don't think too much about it as you have to rush out of your door to get your bus. the gifts rest in your right hand and the other closes the door. you can't be arsed to wait for the next bus, which will leave in about an hour — you just want to buy a few groceries and maybe browse through the local bookshop.
on the way to the bus station, you stuff the box in your bag and open the letter. the first thing you notice is the texture of the paper — it doesn't feel as light as the conventional paper used for everything and it's more grainy and slightly yellowish, remainding you of handmade paper your sibling and you did with your grandparents summers ago. you unfold it. your name is written down with a dearest in front of it, making you heart tumble in your chest, eyes fleeting downwards, where the writer's name stands. jenson b.
his words are sweet and the invite is welcoming you like a warm embrace. he gives fantastic hugs.
but there's a big fat why swirling in your head.
sure, you both work in the same field, enjoying racing, especially formula one racing, however that's the only comment ground. and mark. but that's all.
you've never been alone with him, never talked without anyone else there, never exchanged personal information and desires.
he must be enchanted by you, but why? and how?
the whole thing is seems like a crush type of situation, you've experienced at the age of fourteen to sixteen on several classmates and other students.
at home you open the small box carefully, tracing the beads made out of porcelain. a beautiful piece which fits right into your collection. you snap a picture of it, dangling from your wrist, to send it to the gifter, who's number you don't have. instagram will have to do the trick.
the following day, you come home to another small box sitting on your doormat, a letter underneath it. this time the beads aren't the usual white but multicoloured, glowing in the dim light the lamp spends.
like the first letter, jenson has used the same textured paper and asks for a date, number attached. you're quick to agree, shooting him a message to which he responds in the next few minutes.
in only a few days, he's standing outside of your flat, your favourite flowers in one hand, wearing a lose button down and dress pants. jenson looks good, and if he wasn't your coworker you'd totally invite him in after the dinner date.
as you've already expected, jenson is the ideal date, table booked at a cute restaurant with a nice view and you have your fun sharing lots of different appetisers. you feel great and comfortable, laughing at his silly jokes though you can move on more serious topics without hindering the flow. and the end of the night, the brit drives you home and you find another letter in your handbag, doodles on the side.
maybe this is how it's supposed to be.
when you run into jense at work, quite literally like shoulders slamming against each other, you feel his hand brush yours and the weight of a paper note between your fingers.
"hey jense", you mumble, happiness floating your body at the sight of the man. there's a bright smile on his thin lips and his hair looks fluffy as if he woke up just minutes ago. "you look good."
"but not as good as you, sweets", he cooes, "can't compete with a beauty like you. did you get my letter?"
you nod. "couse I did. you should think about writing a booklet about love poems, they're phenomenal."
"then they wouldn't be from the depth of my heart." He winks before continuing his walk down the paddock, fingers brushing his hair away to the side. his tall figure weaves effortlessly though the throng of mechanics, media personal and other workers, and you start to miss him again.
the note in your hand reads "you have a place in my heart no one else ever could have" and you immediately know its by fitzgerald, a topic discussed on the phone nights ago.
you receive another letter but don't see the man himself for two weeks. only three weeks after you get a glimpse of him across the garages, chatting up a woman your age from a different team. she's blushing, eyes fluttering every few seconds and giggles leave her mouth as jenson touches her elbow, before handing her a letter.
its the same tone of paper, probably the exact material.
at the sight your heart shatters and you feel used, a part of his game, weaving girl after girl 'round his finger.
sure, you know and have already known beforehand of his reputation though he has a way to make someone feel special, treats them lovingly, which let's you forget about it. you thought you were different, close to his heart, but he moves on, giving every willing woman a place in his heart another woman had already filled before her. its a cycle and you are a part of it.
what happens next is your decision — move on or confront him?
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pete fighting uhh pinning him down. and uhh. pussy. yeah. so like. Sorry i went on a rant i’ve been stuck on this specific thought for days and i thought i’d save it to submit it. :-)
to start off, pete’s a good fight, honestly. he’s physically strong and relatively little - so he can move pretty quick and hit pretty hard. so its pretty hard to get him down onto the ground, but not too bad. it’s some deserted parking lot, the van blocks the streetlamp from really lighting us up. so i get him on his back. he’s probably dressed in something skimpy, because he’s a whore, and his hair is probably all messed up. he hasn’t had the chance to fuck with it in a few days, so its curled up at the edges from sweat. he’s grimy. sweaty. probably smells terrible. but he kinda looks pretty like this - sort of grouted at the seams. he’s very pretty, actually. his lips don’t get any less plush just because his teeth are bared (nice teeth too, by the way).
also, he’s got a collar on. because he’s a whore? i mean obviously. it’s simple black leather, a single strap around his throat with a couple studs. he’s been wearing it all day and nobody has even questioned it. so, he’s pinned down. arms under his waist just enough to restrain him, with my knee on his stomach, the other up by his hip. he’s squished in half, his thigh got caught between my legs and is now resting sort of over my hip. i’ve got a hand on his chest to keep him down, the other grabs at his collar before i can think of anything smarter to do. if he wasn’t more aware of his loss, he’d probably have tried to bite at me.
the part of this i’ve really been stuck on all day is telling him something like “down, boy” or “heel” or “don’t bite, hound” or really anything that would remind him he’s a puppy to me. (have you seen the guy? have you heard him talk? he’s a doggy!) and watching how he would sort of melt under it. relax back into the concrete just enough to tell me he’s given up. (usually, people would simply dismount (?) him at this point. but i unfortunately need to fuck him so bad that my head hurts when i think about his pussy so. here we are.) since he’s scrunched in half, his belt is pretty easy to undo, and there’s really no reason to be gentle about it - so i think i’d get his jeans up to about midway on his thigh (i would have to take my knee off his tummy but that isn’t really a problem because he’s not gonna fight back.)
he’s a fucking loser. not only because he’s a nerdy sorta freak, but because he lost the fight and he’s being undressed on perhaps the dirtiest concrete in all of the midwest, several hours after dark. non-losers would be at a party, or maybe asleep. (so, basically, he’s fucking embarrassed. a little guilty. kinda like the face doggies give you when they know they shouldn’t have done something, and they just did it in front of you.)
pete’s teary, flushed, and doing his very best to avoid the embarrassment of eye contact right now. because his pants just came off, and the shitty boxers he’s wearing are absolutely soaked through because his dumb ass can’t even get called a bitch without needing to jerk off after. (he nearly came in his pants the second he was on the ground. it’s loser behavior.)
i’d probably be actively making fun of him for it, too. like “jesus christ, dude, one punch and you’re wet through your panties?” or maybe tugging the collar and making a joke about how he must be in heat. follow it up with quite literally any sentence containing the word breed and he’s out of his mind.
i need to shove his boxers up and spread his cunt open. brush his t-dick as gently as i can just to watch him squirm. start off with one finger, dragging it in and out at a pace that would definitely make him whine. (or, try to get up so he can take over - only to be shoved back down by a hand on his throat.) (i want to feel his insides. he’s gotta be super worked up, so no matter how you’re touching him, he’d be twitching.) while he’s probably yipping up a storm (because he’s a puppy! yip yip woof!) i’d take the opportunity to get a second finger in and start on a moderate pace. two fingers, not even going that fast, and he’s losing his fucking mind. uselessly babbling and trying to shove his hips down onto my hand.
absolutely nothing going through his head, i’m sure. if anything, probably some word-soup that ends up only consisting of “puppy, please, cum” or something of that nature. not a single sentence or complex thought. i wanna watch him cum his dumb puppy brains out. barely able to move but thrashing around anyway. i’d get a hand on his collar and pinch it just a little tighter when i feel his cunt start to seize up. (i think he’d start silently, or maybe just with a mumble (something like “fuck, i’m cumming, m’ gonna cum.” again. no complex thought in that thing!) and then devolve into whining as loud as humanly possible. borderline barking. cause. yeah. you get the gist. woof.) i wanna watch him shaking and trying to compose himself after - eyeliner running down his face, red cheeks, bloody lip from our fight.
i feel like this is already too long so i’ll leave rhis one here and maybe come back later to put another incredibly long psot int he askbox. You know what it’ll be. i’ll be fucking that band guy that barks
-⚙️ gear anon :-)
.
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I find it really strange how easy it seems to be to be perceived as charismatic and "hot" when you're a man.
Like men with a large female following online barely ever show their face, they only take photos in the dark, they never show their personality, and they're kinda pieces of shit honestly, and yet people swoon over them? Why?
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lieutenant-amuel · 1 year
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Y’all know how much I love Gabe, but I can’t get over how boring his design is.
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lovelyghst · 2 months
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just thinking about how big simon riley is.
like him fucking you in missionary; the way his shoulders completely block your field of vision and his large hand planted right by your ear dwarfs your own by the masses. his meaty, veiny arm leading up to his panting chest, usually pressed fully against your own as it gets him so worked up to feel your tummy and tits, hard nipples and soft skin grazing his calloused build. the big man comes with big scars!!
speaking of scars, he gets so fucking weak in the knees and heart when you pay attention to his various marks scattered on him. he never tells you the full stories—rarely even a spec of the truth, most often—but he still gets a little flustered when you kiss them better.
simon can usually hold it together, but sometimes (all the time) he gets sooo hard and blushy when you touch and squeeze his biceps and feel up his abs. call him your strong and impressive man and he’ll have you on your hands and knees in the matter of seconds, shoving his dick in you from behind to cover up how pink his cheeks turned.
he loves coming up behind you in the bathroom while you’re getting ready, putting on your pretty lipgloss or adjusting the bow in your hair while he watches through the mirror like a quiet, curious dog.
seeing how the width of your shoulders only reach his pecs when you’re centered at his front, and christ, the height difference.
placing his large palms on your hips, one up them maneuvering to flatten out on your tummy and pull you further into him. he wraps his arms around your entire frame for the tightest bear hug ever.
call him cliché, but he has such an evil habit of comparing your hand sizes. it turns him on and makes you giggle, each and every time.
the one time you asked him to slip his arm around your waist and head in the crook of your collar for a mirror picture had resulted in your neck being sandwiched between his bicep and forearm, and long lasting marks on your hips from where they hit the counter repeatedly as he fucked you hard in a chokehold.
you just get him so riled up! but it’s okay, because he kissed your temple a lot throughout and afterwards apologized with cuddles for ruining your nice outfit and makeup <3
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bwere · 6 days
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HOW THEY E4T YOU OUT !
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feature: choso, nanami, gojo, geto, sukuna, toji
content: 3.3k+ wc — pssy eatin, spnking, degradation, sqrting [request are always open] mdni + not proofread
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CHOSO KAMO
Devours you every chance he gets as if he’s going to die if he doesn't. 
His eyes were tired and his back was slumped when he arrived home like usual. On the days when he needs to leave for work and return once more, his muscle memory always searches for you before anything else.
He came in, forgot to take off his shoes, his phone in hand and an exhausted look on his face. 
“Bad day Cho’?” you asked. 
“M’just tired.” He hummed out. 
“Aww i’m sorry Cho’ how can I make you feel better?” 
“Can I see her?”
                                                  ୨୧ 
“Mmngh can never get enough of your pretty pussy, baby— please.. she’s sho’ mghn delicious..” 
Choso is a man who makes you tremble while he cries as he proceeds to eat your soul out. A man who cums in his pants just by looking at your pussy as if it were his first time seeing it. Because he doesn’t want to do anything but eat your pussy and make you feel good.
It was over the moment you allowed this man to taste you. His only desire now—was to have his face permanently pressed into your folds. 
Choso keeps his face inside your pussy as if he were scuba diving, fuck the goggles. He thinks eating you out only ended successfully based on how messy he was when he finished. 
With both palms keeping you spread open nice and wide for him. Like there’s a reward beyond the coma inducing orgasm destined to be achieved for the both of you when he’s done. He wants to see your cunt in full view, and access to every nook and cranny possible.
He’s needy and messy, he’ll stuff his face like he lost his house keys in your cervix. And doesn’t see himself done until, your juices are soaking more than just the bedsheets. He aims to see the mixed cum and saliva dripping down his chin and far past his stomach.
He just can’t help it, he wants to make you feel so good he's a pussy pleaser. 
“F-fuck baby mmnghm, am i doin’ ghud p-pretty?..” he whines, his eyes hazy and lusted as his tongue makes rounds on your clit. Sucking and mumbling with his mouth full.
“y-yes jus’ like that cho’ so good f’me mmm…” you struggle, your palms ruffling through his hair for support.  
“S-so good..thank you–mnuh thank you..” He slobbers sweet nothings to himself as the thousands of taste buds on his tongue individually roam in and out of your folds. Leaving no bare of your skin un-sampled. Tasting everything there is to taste without fail. 
“Uhng, cho’ r-right there m’so close..!”
Abusing your clit with ease as he promptly twists and prods his fingers out and back in. “you gonna come? n-not yet, m’ not done—keep going just a little more..baby pleashh~” 
NANAMI KENTO
Caresses you with one goal in mind, that is the satisfaction that comes with making you finish.
When you knocked on his door and made your way inside, he was in a virtual conference.
The mere sight of him making your pussy excruciatingly wet.
His arms were visibly exposed, and his sleeves were rolled up. His clothing appeared tighter, especially with the veins on his skin throbbing. The buttons on his shirt could have easily burst from the way they were begging to be undone.  
He glanced at you and motioned silently for you to come sit on his knee while he muted his call.
"baby, what's wrong?" he asks, sliding a hand to your waist to hold you in place on his thigh.
“Nothinnn’ just miss you is all,” you lie, leaning down to give him a quick kiss to his temple.
“Is that so?” he questions, his glasses slipping down just enough to reveal his content eyes.
“Mhmm I reaaally missed you ken’” 
"I can feel you rocking your weight on my thigh, so don't lie to me." 
                                                  ୨୧ 
“Sit on my face baby—let me take care of you”
Although Kento Nanami is always pent-up, he is able to maintain his composure. He can, has, and will keep going for hours. He will drop to his knees and encircle your thighs with his huge arms the moment you ask him to. With his face burying deeper into your cunt as if he were employed on a graveyard shift from 9 to 5. 
After all, he's a gentleman, which means that he's hooked on seeing your body shake just by making out with your cunt. The boulder in his pants twitching with every lustful movement the scene in front of him causes.
He’d never stop until you finish, making sure you emptied all you had on his tongue, before he makes you do it again on his dick.
“Umngh– that feel good sweetheart?” He goes on, your shaky legs being forced apart by his grasp so they are unable to get in the way of his view.
“Mhmm–keep going ken’ feels soo good..” you moan.
Kentos a clit lover. He never concludes these sessions until your clit is puffy and your pussy is gaping from his fingers. 
And every time you are at a loss for words, frantically seeking for something to cling onto, he leaves a mental note that makes you whimper when he does it again. 
He stones both his middle and ring fingers inside of you despite never once letting go of that puffy clit he deems so tasty. He sucks, strokes, and makes out with your pussy like a natural. 
He’s the type to have an area 51 lockdown on your thighs, the type to let you grab a fistful of his hair and let you ride his face at any tempo your little heart desires. His palms rubbing circles on the inside of your thighs—leading you to your final destination. 
“You’re doing so good—that's it, make me taste how good im doing love...” 
GOJO SATORU
Loves the way you give up under his touch, fighting against the orgasm he’s gonna take from you.
“Satoru Gojo, knock it off..!” you huffed out. you had enough of him toying with you all day. 
He asked to go with you on your errands and promised not to get in the way.
Yet he’s been teasing you all day, telling you how good he’s gonna fuck your brains out. Putting his hand on your thigh in the car, just to play coy and ‘accidentally’ slip a finger through the hems of your panties.
Even as you were trying to reach an agreement on a new game for you and him to play, he made attempts to grind your ass against him.
"Huuh? Satoru Gojo? Who’s that? M’names toru," he chuckles.
"We’re in public, Satoru. You’re being so annoying." you groan rolling your eyes at him, before moving on to the next row.  
"Whattt, a man can’t love on his girlfriend nowadays?” he exaggerates, following immediately behind you, copying your steps. 
                                                  ୨୧ 
“P-Put it in already toru’…!” you whined.
“You weren't this eager for me earlier…” he gasped dramatically, kissing up your thigh, pulling your panties down in the opposite direction.
“Quit teasing Toru’ jus’ need you in me...” 
“If you wan’ it inside, gotta show me how eager you are to cum on my face baby...”
You won't believe how sloppy and vulgar this man is when he's eating you out.
Your eyes will be drawn to the back of your head by him. He'll put his blindfold over your eyes and make you only able to see stars.
His thick and lengthy fingers have enough ability to take the wind right out of your lungs and reach farther than any toy could alone. 
“Hah..c-can’t toru’,” struggling to catch your breath, you try to push his face away. 
He’s a man who makes sure to pleasure you first. And makes you cum no less than twice on his tongue. He swallows everything he can, and makes you cum again if he didn’t get it all the first time.
"C'monnn baby—mmnm, know your pussy got another one in her, tell her to give it to me.." he laughs.
Satoru loves to watch your body unfold under him. He adores the way your throat reaches the highest octave you can afford to give. The way he pulls countless moans out of your throat, causing your voice to crack. He loves to hear how much your ‘can't take it toru’” fuel his ego just so he can get ready to show you just how much he’ll make you take it.
He finger fucks you like crazy. Maintaining the pad of his thumb on your clit while stuffing your cunt onto his fingers in a rhythmic motion. He never wastes time to put his mouth to work.
“Too much toru’ gonna squ—nghmm..!” you yelp, getting cut off by the way he scoots your ass closer to his face—allowing him to focus on the deep areas within your pussy, causing you to squirt then and there without the ability to stop. 
“Good fuckin’ job baby–wouldve mmhp- brought an umbrella if I knew it was gonna rain today,” 
“...”
GETO SUGURU
He takes his time eating you out, he just wants to see how desperate you can get for him.
"You were moving so much, love. What's the matter? Had a nightmare?" Geto asks out to you.
Gaining consciousness slowly, you watch the strands of his hair fall, concealing his half open eyes, before he pushes them back over his head.
Initially he turned away from you in an attempt to cool down your side of the bed since he believed you could have been feeling too hot. But when you kept shuffling under the blankets, he decided to wake you up. 
"Mmm, no, it was more like auhh..." you pause, pondering on what you’re going to say, sitting up to rest against the headboard of the bed.
"Like what?" he inquires, positioning himself to align with your stance.
"You know..." You feel a little ashamed at the thought, but you avoid his gaze until you hear his laugh fill the room. 
“Aw my pretty girl havin’ wet dreams about me?” 
Throwing a pillow at his face as you huff out, “It’s not funny Sugu’, I genuinely couldn’t sleep…!”
“Why don’t you show me what I did in your dream then, hm?”  
                                                  ୨୧ 
“Go on uhmngh, let’s make your dream come true–as much as your pretty mmh.. pussy desires,”
Geto wants to see how horny you really are for him. He adores nothing but to see how desperate you really are to get off. 
“uhhuhnn r-right there baby..” your breath hitching, while you ride up and down his mouth.
He watches you mindlessly use him like you’re the one in control. He’ll let you fuck his fingers—your nails clenching the strands of his hair, undoing the bun he wrapped up prior. 
He feels the way the heels of your feet are snug deep in his broad shoulders. And he doesn’t care, because all Geto can care about is the way you’re haphazardly slamming your pussy in his face without loss.
He’ll agree when you say you need a moment, only to slam you back down on his face when your movement starts to slow. He’ll latch around your waist with the fore of his arms, and shove himself deep between your thighs.
“Sugu’ mnghn—slow down p-please..!” Playing dumb on how your vindications for him slow down fall on stone-deaf ears. 
“Mmmnghm you said faster? sure thing baby..” Smirking into your clit while he devours you—his grip only gets tighter, mocking the same way your fingers begin to tighten against his scalp.
“Mmmn sugu’…don’t stop…c-cummin’ nghh-guh!” 
Geto damn near inhales your cunt at this point, giving himself no air as he breathes and digests everything that comes out of your pussy, emphasising the slurping noises his lips bring as they're mingled in your folds while you squirt in his mouth. 
“Atta girl..Can’t sleep now though, might as well keep goin’ till sunrise.” 
SUKUNA RYOMEN
He wants to drain the thoughts from your mind and watch you falter under him.
“Why are you ignoring me?” you press, but get an annoyed sigh in response.
You’ve asked him to let you accompany him multiple times so you could watch him box-train, and while usually he says no–today he said yes as an excuse to show off his pretty fiancé. Yet, he was pissed when he watched a group of shirtless scumbags surrounding you with brags about their meager accomplishments.
He saw you giggling up a storm but you weren’t laughing because of him and that thought alone made his blood boil.
"I was just bein’ nice Kuna’, so I'm not sure why you have an attitude."
"Maybe it's caus' you wanna go around flirtin' with every guy in the damn gym." Sukuna scolds, pulling his duffel bag out to put away his gloves—rolling his eyes in advance as he slams his locker door.
"I did not try to flirt! They came up to me, asked about you and then the talk continued. A cordial discussion some might say," you joke.
“Oh yeah? What were they sayin’ then?” he scoffs, raising an eyebrow at your remark, leaning against the locker doors, an action forbidding you to walk away.
                                                  ୨୧ 
“T-They we’re just sayingnn t-that you..—you mghn!” 
Sukuna either goes all out or doesn’t, and when it comes to you, going all out is just the tip of the iceberg. 
He’s a man who hates getting dirty, but when it’s your cunt? You know it’s ate right when your mattress is stained through like a sponge. 
“I-I what brat? Spit it out." he spites, making fun of your efforts to speak—his fingers breaking and entering you with ease. 
Sukuna's cruel and wicked, if you will. He has your pussy leaking and accessible to him completely. Eating and finger fucking you enduringly.
The filthy squelches and slurps fill both your ears whilst he fingers you till your internal juices coats his fingertips.
“That you–hah…w-win lots mphm…K-kuna pleash..!..can’t breathe..please..” you begin to writhe beneath his lips, swallowing in shock at his ruthless touch.
You can tell him to let you breathe and that you can no longer cum, all you want, but he doesn't bother to listen. 
The palms of his hand repeatedly make contact with your ass, torturing the skin below them and causing acute pain on your cheeks, leaving no place for pity.
“Yeah? s’that why you were gigglin’ and given fuck me eyes?” 
He makes it his mission every time to eat you so good no matter what you do it’ll never be enough. He’ll make sure those half assed attempts to get off alone don’t result in a happy ending without him.
“Mmgnh n-no! I wasn’t–ah..promise–I p-promise k-kuna’ please it hurts..!” 
“You wanna play bimbo while I’m trainin’, but actin’ all innocent when we’re alone?” he hisses. 
With his tongue stretching deeper than any man could ever hope to, he gives himself the advantage to tongue-fuck you all over by moving his palms under your lower back, titling your pussy deeper on his face.
“N-no!...g– mmm g-gonna’ cum..! so—close kuna..”
He finds it amusing how sensitive you are. “mnnguh …cum brat—since that's all y’wanna be good for.”
“K-Kuna m-mmmngh—!...”
Only allowing you a few moments to return to consciousness before he's prepared to fold you again like an expert origami master at work.
“Who said I was done? Open your legs n’ give me another one whore.”
TOJI FUSHIGURO
Wants to humiliate you as you squirm and watch him violate your folds.
Toji didn’t play when it came to his gym routine and to have you with him every night as his gym partner was even better. He said he would take care of it for you, when you looked into what to wear to the gym, and he did just that.
He got you a matching colored windbreaker and Nike biker shorts. He wasn't giving it any consideration at first, merely noting that it'd be more breathable.
Up until the moment he realised he was staring at your ass each time you got on the treadmill. Addicted to the way the material made your ass appear, as you passed by his station. 
His cock tensed because of the way the dark velvety material flaunted every curve of your pussy when you moved.  
Sensing you approaching him as he was finishing up a set on the weighted arm raises—he dwelled more on the way your ass seemed to converse with him while he watched you slip into his line of sight.
"Hmm?" he hums, completing his final rep. He goes to get a complimentary wipe from the cleaning station and walks back to wipe down the machine. Leaving it sanitised and ready for it’s next use.
“Toji baby, sorry to interrupt but can you spot me next?” 
"Oh, I see," a sneer lifted on his scarred lips as he continues; "finally doin' it today huh?"
You put on a smile and take over his former position. “indeed, I decided to give some new workouts a go today! I’m pretty excited y’know?” 
He nods, "there's no rush, jus’ go slow, lemme know if it's too much."  
“Yeah yeah yeah…I got this [...] wait Toji, aren’t you supposed to be by my arms?”
                                                  ୨୧ 
“Thought you were excited a minute ago, all that energy go to your pussy?” 
Toji Fushiguro, experienced and tongue-talented. You'll be cruising to the finish line like a race car thanks to him. He takes good care of your pussy—forcing you to understand how much he will always know your pussy far more than you and anyone else could.
Especially how the tiniest of friction from him that causes your walls to spasm on his taste buds—confirmation in itself.
He’ll force you to keep your eyes open and watch—as he makes love with your cunt. 
“Keep your eyes open doll— m’ tryna see them turn white”
“Hmmph! T-Toji…What if someone comes in?...ngh, ah—“
“The only one cummin’ is you,” he retaliates.
With his left hand, he pulls back both of your legs as he utilises his right. Your whole-body quivering amid him from his constant clit assaults.  
He finger fucks you swifter than previously, and immediately senses your insides clenching around his fingers, forcing you with no choice but to be filled to the brim, and disoriented due to his tongue.  
“The thought of you bein’ caught spread open on a weight bench got ya’ pussy pulsatin’ huh?”
“Mmngh a-absolutleey..not…!” 
Studying as a wave of humiliation passes over your expression, he puts a couple harsh palms to your ass with a SMACK. Making the area sting over and over, as the air creeps to irritate the burn. 
“Denyin’ with a straight face as if I can’t feel you smotherin’ my fingers? Fuckin’ slut,” 
“M’ not a slu-ngh–! Toji’...mmmh”, whimpering—you reach for the edges of the weight bench looking desperate for support.
“Wan’..mmm wanna cum Toji…please,” 
“You wanna cum?”
“Mmhm!—” you cry out, your voice wavering in response. 
“Only sluts get to cum—mmmh, ptuih—but yer not one of em’ are ya’?” he tests you, spitting on your clit as though your sopping pussy hasn't already caused enough fluids to run down his throat.
“Mm–m’ n-not–nnmugh!"
 “You know what I wanna hear ma’ say it.” he demands, adding another finger to the two, fucking you fuller.
“I-Im a s-slut toji…mgnhm a slut—a slut for you, please let me cummmngh!—” you babble out, not even sure if it's for him anymore; the words bring nothing but a warning to anyone who hears—unable to stop. Feeling yourself reach your limit against his tongue. 
“So needy—mmngh cum like a good lil’ slut then,”
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miniimight · 26 days
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"S'NOT MY BIRTHDAY..." silly girl, thinking you need an occasion in order to be spoiled by them!
with gojo, nanami x fem!reader
notes trying out this writing thing again lol
in previous relationships, you had to deal with the bare minimum. a generic greeting card on valentine's day, a bunch of snacks for your birthday, and a necklace for christmas because 'that's what girls like, right?'
now, with him, it's different. he has no qualms about getting you anything your eyes linger on, no matter the price. he had so much money, he picked things up and swiped his card without so much as a glance at the cost. it baffled you sometimes.
it happened was early on in your relationship. you then quickly learned to just sit back and let him spoil you!!
GOJO
satoru's fingers were laced with yours as he swung your connected arms between you. he inhaled deeply, looking up at the high ceiling of the mall. "today's a good a day as any to throw some cash, don't you think baby?"
you giggle and squeeze his hand. "one or two things should be okay." that's what you budgeted for, anyway.
he rolled his eyes, scolding you for your tiny imagination before allowing you to pull him along to your favorite stores.
it wasn't long before your eyes spotted the store you loved but couldn't afford. your stare was glued to the window display, all the cute tops and pants and bags and shoes and bracelets and...
when he felt your steps slow, satoru glanced at you. you were laser focused on the clothing store—naturally, he sharply turned towards it.
"hey!" you squeaked at the sudden change of direction, and you hurried to match his pace again. "toru??"
"i saw you looking, baby, why didn't you just say you wanted to check it out?" he teased.
you looked over to the side, embarrassed. "i... i don't wanna tempt myself, cus i know i'll gaslight myself into buying something."
he narrowed his eyes, not in scorn but in confusion. "who said you were buying anything?"
"huh?" you chirped, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
gojo stared blankly at you. you really were adorable, thinking he wouldn't spend his last dime on whatever you wanted, regardless of how trivial it was. a smile pulled at his lips.
"my sweet girl," he cooed. "my sweet, slow girl..."
you gasped indignantly and poked satoru's side, earning a giggle from him. "slow?!"
"obviously, i'll by whatever you want, silly." he tugged you towards the entrance of the store.
"but..." you resisted his pull. "it's not my birthday or anything..."
huh? he pouted. "as if i need a special reason to get you stuff."
"but..." heat creeped up your neck as you reveled in the unfamiliar feeling of being spoiled. something inside you told you that he was just being nice and was waiting for you to shut him down, save him the expenses. "it's not fair, is it? i didn't get you anything so far..."
his face fell slightly as he pulled you away from the busy traffic of the moving crowds. satoru pulled your chin up to face him. "i dunno what's running through that pretty head of yours, but answer me this, okay?"
you nod.
"you want it?" he gestured towards the store.
you hesitated, eyes straying from his face. he quickly squished your cheeks, causing your eyes to widen and snap to his. "—!"
"don't overthink it, pretty girl, just tell me."
"yesfh." you answer dejectedly, muffled against his hands.
"then you'll have it." he told you. "i want you to have anything and everything you say you want. i wanna buy it for you. and being able to hear you say 'my boyfriend got this for me' is all i need in return." he grinned cheekily.
you pouted, looking unbelievably cute in his eyes. he despises the partners of your past for leading you astray, thinking you needed to do something special in order to be appreciated. don't worry, he'll fix that in no time.
he pecked your pursed lips before hugging you. "okay?"
you giggle. "okay."
"yay!! now let's go!!"
by the end of the day, he had to call ichiji to help carry all the bags to the car. he was so proud of you!
NANAMI
kento was your shadow as you glided through the store, picking up things and setting them down.
"oh, this is so cute!" you squealed holding up a tee for him to see.
he smiled, more because of your excited expression than the t-shirt. "it is. you should get it."
you hummed, in thought. your hands drifted over the material, picking up the tag before inhaling sharply. "nah, another time."
he frowned. you'd done this at every store so far, picking up things you said you liked but leaving them behind. he was bewildered. "but... you like it, do you not?"
you winced, hoping this topic wouldn't come up. "i do! it's just the price. out of my budget, you know?" you said, trying to be light. you burned with discomfort. might as well just say you're poor.
kento frowned. "oh..."
"yeah."
you quickly turned away, avoiding the confused look on his face.
"y/n." he called you.
"...yes?" you glanced behind you, seeing him standing over the shirts.
"are you under the impression that you would be paying?" he asked.
you blinked. "oh?" yes, you were, but you were surprised to learn that he had the opposite understanding. "well... yeah."
he frowned, disappointed with himself. "i'm sorry. i didn't intend to make you feel that way."
you stepped closer, rubbing his arm soothingly. "what are you talking about?" you laughed softly. "you didn't make me feel any kind of way. i'm not upset, if that's what you're getting at. i never expected you to spend your money on me."
his frown only deepened. oh, how he has failed. "why not?"
you faltered. how did you manage to make it worse? "i'm not sure i understand..."
kento shook his head. "have you been thinking you'd be using your own money for purchases? this whole time?"
"um..."
"sweetheart, i'm paying. for everything, at all times." he refused to hear anything else, cutting you off when you opened your mouth to retort. "we'll have to circle back to the stores we previously visited."
it was your turn to frown. "kento, it won't be my birthday for a few months! you don't have to get me anything right now."
"what does your birthday have to do with anything?" he asked, genuinely confused. "i don't mean to interrogate you, my love, but i think i am the one who doesn't understand."
"you'd get me anything i asked for?" you shoot back, spelling it out for him. "for no reason?"
"for one reason," he replied. "simply because you want it. it'd make you happy."
warmth spread across your face. "that's two reasons." you mumbled.
he clicked his tongue, exacerbating your bashfulness when he pulled you into his side. he kissed your forehead. "you make me laugh, y/n. i was so confused as to why you weren't getting anything. surely that's not how you usually shop."
he bought that shirt for you, as well as the many things you thought were cute at all the stores you stepped foot in. now, you shop without any hesitations.
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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rowarn · 2 months
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cw: gun play, throat fucking with a gun im sorry, simon coming untouched, masturbation (reader) I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BRAIN SO unedited
simon with a gun kink that he's kept hidden would be crazy.
imagine ur big, beefy husband coming home after a long deployment. he's tense, his fists are clenched tight and it's clear he's got a ton of steam he needs to blow off.
at first, you expect a normal night together of him plowing you into the mattress so hard that the bed creaks and hits the wall with every thrust. the kind of fucking that leaves you trembling for 15 minutes after you've finished and cleaned up. the kind that has him pulling you into his arms to soothe and coo at.
but something is different this time.
he starts removing his gear one by one as usual but instead of removing the holster with his gun and safely placing it down, he unholsters the gun completely.
you're watching with bated breath as he unloads the weapon, carefully pulling it back and peering into the chamber. you're watching his hands move, admiring how strong his fingers are and how the veins in his hands bulge out with every movement
you deviously excited by the time he approaches you -- the gun still in his hand.
he brings it up, placing the nozzle against your chin, finger hovering off the the trigger. but you know how well-trained he is -- how good he is at his job. you know that he could have that finger on the trigger in a milisecond, faster than you would even be able to comprehend.
"open," he orders, a voice that sends shivers down your spine. it's firm, rough, authoritative. it's a tone you imagine he uses when he's on the field.
soliders bow to his every whim and you're no better. but unlike those who are trained to obey him because it's their job -- you obey him because you know if you do, you'll get the sweetest reward in the world; that thick, full cock still hidden in his pants.
your panties are already wet and sticky and your brain’s already feeling fuzzy by the time you open your mouth. 
the shock of cold is the first thing you recognize followed by the tang of metal as the weapon settles on your tongue. your lashes flutter as you look up at your husband, face still obscured by his balaclava but his pretty, brown eyes burn holes into you nevertheless.
he slowly and carefully slides the gun deeper into your mouth until it presses against the back of your throat and you involuntarily gag. a groan rips from his cheeks as he watches the tears gather on your lashline.
"that's it, pretty," he coos, "bet you wish that was my cock huh?" you nod your head as best you can with the weapon lodged in your throat, "maybe i'll give it to you if you put on a real nice show for me."
his words take a moment to register in your fuzzy brain but once they do, your hand is flying down between your legs at record speed. you slip it beneath the band of your panties, barely lifting his shirt that you're wearing out of the way so you can finally find relief in the ache that has settled in your cunt.
your folds are wet and sticky as they part around your fingers and you struggle to swallow around the gun in your mouth. there's no give to the metal and drool begins to dribble down your shin in long, thin strings.
simon's cock is hard, heavy and leaking against his thigh. this has been one of his best kept secrets, to watch you submit to his gun -- to the weapon he has used to murder countless people with.
and here you were, doing as you're told, throating his gun while you play with your pretty cunt. he can hear how wet you are, can see the way you desperately hump your own hand trying to get your fingers deeper and deeper. but they'll never feel as good as his, you both know this.
so all you can do is tearfully look up at him through clumped lashes as you choke and gag on the gun he continues to keep stuffed down your throat.
his cock throbs at the thought of being where his weapon is now. he envies it.
you mutter something, muffled and incomprehensible but he knows what you're saying. he can see the way your pupils blow out, hear the way your breathing grows erratic and choppy. you're trembling and breathless, messily jerking your hips into your own hand as you desperately look up at him -- begging for anything to push you over the edge.
his finger finally lands on the trigger of his gun and he sees your eyes widen but the desperate, teary look you give him only tells him more of what you need.
there's a muted, empty click when he pulls the trigger. the gun is empty, you both know this -- but it sends you over the edge anyway.
simons cock twitches and twitches, balls tight and heavy before he's spurting his load down his thigh at the sight of you cumming on your own fingers and moaning around his gun.
the hand holding the weapon trembles as he cums untouched at the entire scene. you pull your head back, gasping for air before pulling your hand out of your panties.
simon lurches forward, you don't even have time to react before he's taking the sticky, messy, cum-covered fingers into his mouth.
he's on top of you, pressing you down beneath his weight, the gun tossed and forgotten on the bed because now all he can think about is fucking you into the mattress. <3
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screampied · 19 days
Note
Hii baby veygusssss<33 hoping you a nice day / night🩷🩷, so um hear me out Choso x shy reader re-creating one of p-hub most liked nor watched vid? Just a silly thought of mine hehehei feel free to ignore this. Muaaaaa😚💗
- 🧃 ( new anon, I hope it's not taken yet😞 )
꒰১ cw. fem reader, doggystyle, hair pulling, choso tries dirty talk, premature ejaculatıon, mdni.
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“baby, i— i wanna do this,” choso mumbles, showing you the video that displayed across the screen. oftentimes he’d show you some positions he’d wanna try, the only ones you’ve ever done with him so far was missionary or cowgirl. his ultimate favorite out of the two—just you straddling him, staring into his eyes always makes him shudder. “can we try it?”
peering at the screen, it was a woman and a guy performing a well known prominent position. with a shy expression, you speak in a soft tone. “doggystyle? you wanna try that?”
“yeah,” he pouts, closing out of the web page before turning back towards you. the both of you were on the bed, tangled limbs keeping each other warm before he pants. “i think you would look pretty like that,” and he gulps. “i mean, you’re always pretty— but like . . on your hands ‘n knees for me, you know?”
you giggle, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “i know what you mean, baby, and okay. we can do doggy if you’d like.”
choso’s face lights up and he only grows more flustered once he sees you sit up. “okay, okay,” he tries to compose of himself, gawking openly as you lie flat on your stomach. then, you sit upright, placing the palms of your hands on the bed with your knees in place. his lips quiver, taking a three second glance at your ass. “a-and i’m gonna get behind like this, i think,” he cutely tries to remember the video. choso’s already starting to pant, shallow breaths of clouded puffs depart from his lips before he springs out his dick. he lets off a whine, staring at your pussy and how it was a bit moist from the outer entrance. “oh, it’s so wet from up close.”
“choso,” you tease, feeling yourself grow hot yourself. “any day now, baby.”
“s-sorry, sorry,” he snaps out of his erotic trance, reaching near the nightstand drawer to take out the lube bottle. he tried not to take too long, he wanted to be inside just as much as you wanted him inside also. quickly, he applies the lube in the right areas of you before focusing his attention back towards his throbbing cock. “give it a f-few pumps before going inside,” he speaks to himself underneath his breath, stroking his length once or twice. you wriggle your ass in anticipation and he only grows more abashed. you were shy just as him, although you were a bit more of an impish tease. “tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”
“okay, ‘cho.” you comply.
after a bit, he inches the head of his tip near your slit that’s starting to open. he’s mesmerized, his mouth slowly pries open at the sight before he’s gradually starting to sink his way in. as choso grows quiet, you let off a soft moan that makes him pause.
“baby? does it hurt? what ha—”
“choso, ‘m moanin’ because it feels good, ‘m okay i promise,” you simper in a shaky breath, leaning against your folded arms. not even facing him yet you could tell he was so big—standing tall proudly with inches underneath his metaphoric belt. “keep going.”
he gulps, nodding with a sweet, “okay,” before resuming where he left off. such thickness has your lips spreading apart,
he falls in love with the warmth that your gummy walls provides—sending him into straight nirvana.
it feels almost blissful, you squeeze against him before relaxing, he’s barely even halfway in and you already feel the elastic stretch. it’s too good, the moans that constantly let out from your mouth only makes his dick twitch more. once you let off a whine, he whines. “just a few m-more inches, princess,” he swallows—choso’s throat becomes suddenly dry and you bite your lip. so big, the way he’s so gentle to not break you was oh so cute nonetheless. “so warm.”
choso speaks in a low gruff voice, yet it’s still so whiny. your goopy walls forever cling onto him before within seconds later, you’re rightfully stuffed. he gasps, a sudden sweltering sensation waves over him once he realizes he’s buried balls deep. a few languid seconds inside your pussy and he was already losing it — the poor thing, you had him whipped.
“ugh,” he whimpers, preparing for an impactful thrust. choso’s a bit awkward, trying to remember what his eyes saw from the video as he holds your hips firmly. “gonna f-fuck you now, baby,” he mewls, and gives you a single thrust. he’s hesitant, wanting to make sure you’re okay before you’re babbling for him to not stop. a single thrust like that was purely addicting—you throb and he feels it, the way your walls constantly tease him by constricting around it.
so evil,
your ass is held up high against the bed before he starts to fuck you at a sloppy pace. sweaty thumbs of his brush against your hips as he’s holding you firmly in place, trying to maintain a decent enough rhythm. “ngh, so hot inside, feels so good,” he hiccups, feeling the very bottom of your hips tilt back. skin against skin — it feels like you’re melting against choso, it’s heavily intoxicating.
with the way your ass sticks up against him like glue, he goes crazy, feral. choso makes you spread a bit further before he’s really driving his cock into you. he makes sure his pace isn’t too fast before he lets off a melodically lewd moan. with his sculpted abs flexing, he lets off a soft whimper. “baby can- can i pull on your hair a little too?”
you giggle, nodding as you’re continuing to adapt to the feeling of being jostled against the silky bedsheets. “yes, choso. go ‘head.”
choso’s wheezy pants grow heavier and heavier, he leans up close to where he’s shoved right up close against you. with your knees widening, he grabs a good amount of your hair before giving it a soft kitten tug. “is that good?”
“baby, harder. ‘s okay, you can be a l-little rough.”
he pouts, giving you a more harder tug and you moan— leaning forward with your head lying back down between your arms. “just like that, doin’ so good baby, keep—keep going, fuuuck.”
your torso’s upright, he moans at how good you feel from the inside. choso can’t help but feel himself starting to drool a bit. your pussy was addicting in every way. you fuck back against him, rotating your hips a bit and he squeezes your right ass cheek. choso’s never really stared at your ass much, but now, that it was constantly bumping back against him—he just couldn’t look away. “m-my goddd, ‘s warm,” he pleads out, desperate for more of this feeling. you clamp down on him tightly, nerves all over his body send him shivers inside and out. choso can already feel himself start to sweat, his dick continuously reaches every orifice inside of your stuffed pussy. for a moment, he closes his eyes shut, getting hard at the rough recoil your ass smacks against his torso. it’s sexy, something within him was telling him to spank you but he wanted to ask first. “f-fuck, um . . princess? one more thing?”
“yes baby?”
“can—” he breathes through jagged breaths, slowing his pace down just a bit to rub a thumb against your hips. “can i spank you o-one time?”
“yes, ‘s okay, spank me, choso.” you moan, feeling his tip reach deeper throughout your tightening cunt.
he’s so sweet, he caresses the left cheek of your ass before giving it a spank. it jolts you forward and you let off a sweet gasp, though once he realizes you like it, he starts to spank you over, and over, and over, until you’re being more vocal than him. choso’s so in love with your voice that he could listen to it all day,
it was something about the smoothness in it. the way you whine for more in such a honeyed tone makes the tips of his ears burn. he still couldn’t fathom that he, choso kamo—was making you feel this good. but the more he starts to rut into you, the more he starts to feel something creep up. it’s sneaky—steadily arising before he feels a pool of warmth reside near his lower abdomen.
“i- i think ‘m gonna cum,” he whimpers, and he says it quickly, you feel the vein that runs down his shaft pulsate through you and your legs squeeze together for a moment. he pokes his bottom lip out, about to spank you against but he hesitates. he doesn’t wanna be too mean, so he caresses your bare cheek instead, brushing a thumb against your ass like a brush paints its canvas. “should i p-pull out?”
“i-inside, choso. inside.” you whine, and darkened brows of his raise. his mind’s racing and he’s taken aback, you want him to finish inside?
choso grips your hips with both hands, trying to remember the video before he cutely spews out a specific dialogue. “g-gonna flood your pretty vagina with my sticky cum, whore.”
and you giggle—you giggle and choso gasps.
“w-what’s funny?” he frowns, pausing his hips. “did you not like my dirty talk?”
he’s still buried deep into you from the hilt and you bite on your arm before replying. “heh, no it’s just .. nevermind,” and you have a soft smile, still not facing him. “but we gotta work on your dirty talk, baby. no one really says vagina or sticky cum.”
“…oh,” he says with his brows curling into a furrow. so cute, yet after a while, he finishes anyway.
his orgasm hits him like a truck — it’s so good that he whimpers, rocking his hips against you before feeling the drenched sloshes of oozing cum pouring into you. it’s thick, ropes and ropes of his velvety seed trickles into your sopping folds. he came a lot too, despite it being a bit early. whines welt from his mouth before he pulls out slowly, staring in revere at the way your pussy’s plugged all in. momentarily, his cum starts to dribble out and he runs a thumb down it to touch it. it’s warmth, he shudders before averting his attention back towards you, towering over you. he pants, “s-sorry, you didn’t get to finish.”
“we’re not done, silly,” you kiss the bridge of his nose where his scar lays. “and don’t be sorry. you did amazing with doggy, you’re a natural.”
choso pouts, yet grows flustered once your lips hit against the bump of his nose. “eh. but i could do better. i wanna learn how to talk dirty for you.”
“we have all the time to practice, baby,” you softly whisper, pulling him into a hug—wrapping your shaky legs around his slim waist. choso inhales, staring at you with rough pants leaving his lips every millisecond. “we’ll get better.”
he lets off a relieved sigh at how understanding you were, he lays his head against your chest, bristle hairs of his ponytails tickle against your skin before he speaks in a shy tone. “o-okay, okay but um .. can we maybe try another position i saw?”
“what is it baby?” you hum, stroking the edge of his temple in such a hypnotic way—the benign rhythm of your fingers was so soothing he found himself almost drifting off to sleep.
he had a cute smug grin. “f-full nelson.”
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bi-writes · 3 months
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hmm im thinking about it being the first night simon stays over, and you show him how to take off his makeup. (18+)
he looks tired. you stand in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher with the remnants from dinner. you don't want to spend time washing the full sink, you just want to sit next to him and soak up the warmth of him--you had missed him, and all you want to do is curl up next to him and nuzzle your face into his mask and finally get him into your bed, under your covers.
he's never slept over. he's always been adamant about that. always lacing up his boots after the movie, kissing you through the mask after a warm date, tucking you in when you get too tipsy and leaving water by the bedside table. he always goes, and even if he comes back in the morning, he always makes sure he does not stay over.
even when he fucked you the first time--he waited until you fell asleep, and then he left, and he came back in the morning with breakfast, but you knew he went home because he smelled fresh and he was wearing different clothes.
but tonight, he's staying. because you finally asked, and how could he say no to those pretty eyes? to that sweet little pout?
the distance, he was always trying to maintain it. but it was useless. you are not temporary. there is no end date. he can't keep letting you linger at arm's length.
you're soft and sweet, and your cunt is the same, and when he isn't thinking about being cock-deep in you, he's dreaming of your soft voice and your pretty smile and the tender way you kiss him and the way you hug. the all-encompassing, enveloping way you put him at ease. his rage builds, and one look at you, and it is gone.
as if it never mattered in the first place. as if it was never there at all.
so he agreed to stay. his bag sits heavy in your bedroom, clean clothes inside, and his toothbrush is in the same holder as yours in the bathroom. he lingered on it when he had put it there; two versus one. he never wants to see his toothbrush alone ever again.
he blinks awake when he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. he's still wearing his army fatigues, black cargo pants and his windbreaker, the skull balaclava tucked under his long sleeve to hide any skin. his holsters are still around his thighs, but they are empty, and his vest is on the floor by the door, where his boots are. he feels your warmth even through the layers, and he leans towards it without thinking.
you kiss the side of his head, cupping under his chin gently.
"tired, simon?" you coo softly. "'s alright. we should get you in bed. been a long day."
"mm...olright," he murmurs, and you look up at him as he stands, and he towers over you, making you feel small, but safe. he's a bear, and he's yours, and he's staying.
you take his hand gently, and he follows you. you stand side-by-side in the bathroom, and you smile at him in the mirror as he unzips his windbreaker, revealing the hoodie underneath. his eyes meet yours, and he winks, and you smile wider, especially when his hand falls, smacking your ass nice and firm.
"wot, luv? somethin' funny, yeah?"
you shake your head and laugh, and then you reach for the headband in the drawer, slipping it over you as you prepare to wash your face. you slip a few products out onto the counter, and your mouth goes dry when simon grips his mask from the back of his head and pulls it completely off.
he is so handsome. his nose is crooked; he's broken it a few times, that's for sure. there's a scar deep across his face, jagged over his lips, and you've felt it when you've kissed him before, but it's jarring to see it. there's a few more across his other cheek, along his forehead, and you break out into nervous giggles as you meet his dark eyes. the eye-black around his eyes has shifted with the fabric of the mask and with sweat, but he still looks hot.
really hot.
you swallow hard and turn the sink on, wetting your hands. simon reaches to do the same, and you watch as he brings his wet hands up and starts to wash his face. immediately, the eye-black just smears, and he has to move more over the sink as he continues to wash.
"simon?"
"'s olright. just takes a few minutes for it to come off."
you smile, "here, i...let me help."
he turns the water off, wiping his face on his sleeve, and you giggle when he looks into the mirror and realizes all he's done is smear the black across his cheeks. he laughs with you, deep and gravelly, and you reach into the drawer and pull out two bracelets made of absorbent fabric.
"give me your hands," you say softly, and he does, and you slip the bracelets over his wrists. "keeps the water from running down your arms."
"fuckin' annoyin' when it does that," he grumbles, and you smile. you reach across the counter, opening a small jar.
"it's called double cleansing. you take this balm--" you get a dime-sized amount onto your finger and you put it into his hand, "--and then you rub it into your hands until it becomes...kinda oily. it'll take off all of...that--" you motion to the black streaks along his face.
"oi, are y'on the piss?" he laughs, "it'll take it oll'off?"
you giggle and nod, "yeah. try it."
he rubs his hands together, warming up the balm, and then he reaches up and massages it into his face. you watch, biting back more laughs, when he realizes how much easier the eye-black moves, coming off onto his hands. when he washes it off, it's nearly gone, and then you give him a dollop of face wash to help rinse the rest away. he dries his face on a towel, grinning in the mirror, and you hug his arm gently as he takes the bracelets off.
your eyes meet again in the mirror, and he smooths his hands down your waist, moving you in front of him, leaning over your and putting his face into your neck. he warms the skin there with soft kisses, and you laugh, buzzing with delight.
"you're so beautiful, luv," he growls in your ear, and you close your eyes.
"you're...y-you're beautiful, too, simon."
"yeah? come off it."
never. you'll never come off whatever high you're on now. you reach up and hold onto him, as much as you can grab, and you close your eyes as you kiss, his lips on yours, something hot in your chest and something soft in your insides.
you hold onto him tighter. you will not let go.
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luveline · 7 months
Note
spencer one shot where he’s angry at somebody else [bc he so does look so kissable when he’s angry >:(] maybe someone at one of the precincts they’re working at said something rude about r and he defends u and maybe he gets a lil kiss <3
im thinking “this is calm and it’s doctor” vibes bc that scene does things to me 😭
ty for requesting ♡ fem, 1.1k
cw for sexual harassment
"Jesus," Spencer says, rushing to stand behind you as you bend over. 
"Mm?" you hum. You're fishing for your dropped change unsuccessfully by the precinct vending machines. "They have your chips, did you see?" 
"Your pants are ripped," Spencer says, hand ghosting your thigh. 
"What?" you ask, shooting up. You turn on the spot to hide, hand leaping back. You feel at the seam. "Where?" 
"Top of your thigh." 
"Shit, really? Can you see my–" 
"Yeah," he says, meeting your wide eyes while you locate the rip. "How did you do that?" He laughs. 
"Don't laugh!" you demand, though you're giggling as you do, hand covering your thigh and the bottom of your butt inefficiently. 
"Do you want my jacket?" 
"Don't cover it up, toots." 
You and Spencer both blink. There's a crowd of grinning beat cops by the door of the cafeteria who've obviously witnessed your misdemeanour. "Toots?" Spencer asks. 
"Sorry, boys, that's the end of the show," you say with a grin. Not because you particularly enjoy having been oggled, but it's always been like this. Men will always make weird comments to you, and you've learned to play nice until they're out of your jurisdiction. 
"Turn back around," one says bravely, though you aren't sure which one. 
Spencer stands in front of you subtly. "Do you know that thirty eight percent of women experience sexual harassment in the workplace?" he asks, quick but measured. "Thirty eight percent, but I'm sure a much smaller number of those women are federal agents, and a smaller number again have the capacity to break your arm. I've seen her give serial killers radial fractures. I've seen her do worse." 
"We were just messing around," one says. 
"No need to get defensive," says another. "Don't get mad, boy." 
"I am defensive, but I'm not mad."
His tone attracts the attention of a precinct sergeant who barks at them to stop messing around and get back to work. "Were they bothering you?" he asks after they've filtered out with their heads down. 
"No," you say swiftly. "Everything's fine." 
Spencer frowns, worse when the sergeant leaves, turning to you to take your hand. A few weeks ago at a company picnic, when the sun was high and your spirits comparatively lower, you'd apologised to him for flirting. You love to flirt and especially with him, puppy eyed Spencer with his head of brown hair and his big brain, but some of the team suggested you were taking it too far. You apologised, but Spencer didn't really get what you were saying sorry for and took your hand to lead you out of the sun. He protects you. 
"You okay?" he asks. 
"I'm fine." 
"You sure?" His voice fries. 
"I'm sure," you say. His hand is an interesting thing on yours. He has long, long fingers that seem to possess their own willpower, moving even as they're sewn through yours. "I don't know what to do about my pants." 
Spencer's eyebrows pinch together. "Well, I'll take care of that. I'll find you something. I can't believe those as–" 
"Oh," you interrupt, taking your hand back in want of a better thing to hold, his cheek a mix of soft and scratchy against your palm. "You're still mad." 
"I'm not mad," he insists, though eventually he relents, "Alright, I'm angry that they'd think it was okay to objectify you." 
"What else?" you ask, letting your voice drop in pitch, the sound smooth as angora silk. 
"I'm thinking about if I hadn't been here." 
"I can protect myself," you murmur, endeared by the heat in his gaze. "You said it yourself, handsome. Radial fractures." 
"You shouldn't have to." 
"We both already know that," you say, the side of your hand slipping down his cheek reverently. He squints gently, his lashes dark triangles, his irises a browned sugar. His jaw clenches under your touch. "You're handsome." 
"Right now?" he asks dryly. 
"Are you handsome right now?" 
"Are you really flirting with me right now?" 
"Why wouldn't I be?" You draw a line under his ear whisper soft to curl a longer strand of his hair around the tip. "You look hot when you're winning." 
"What did I win?" he asks, like he doesn't want to know. 
You grin at him, stickying. "Would you like an itemised list?" you ask, rising on tiptoes to speak into the shell of his ear. "What do you think you deserve, handsome? For such a fearless defence?" 
He's not immune to your whims, but he is used to them, planting his hands on your shoulders to ease you back on sure footing. "I don't want anything. I'll always defend you." 
"Can I give you a small token of my gratitude, at least?" 
His pinking cheeks practically emanate heat. "We don't have time for this," he says regretfully, "I still have to find you a coverup." 
"Just a small token," you say. 
He hums and haws. "Alright. Okay, whatever you want." 
"You sure?" 
He nods once, his jaw working with something unsaid. You touch his neck, fingertips trailing along the underside of his jaw until you're sure it's what he wants before you brace your hands behind his head and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, close enough that the corner of his lips align with yours but don't overlap. His neck is hot in your hands, his hair soft, his breath hooking as you lift your lips just a touch and your nose digs into his cheek. "Thank you, Spencer," you whisper. 
He pulls you closer. 
You shudder as his hand presses into the small of your back, wondering what it is he wants to do. His fingers spread. Your thoughts turn to white noise. Like he can sense it, he breathes out and steps away, but any sense of urgency is gone. 
"As much as I might tease, I really do need some pants," you say. "I'm not very interested in anyone else seeing my panties today." 
He rushes off to find you something and you press the backs of your fingers to your cheeks, feeling the heat there with a resigned embarrassment. He has no idea how much power he has over you, in his stony anger and his eager reception. The phantom of his hand warms your back until he returns, his sweater in hand. "Sorry, this is it." 
"If you want me to wear your clothes, just say so." 
"Hotch is pretty pissed at us." 
"Ah," you sigh, tying his sweater around your waist, "another day in paradise, baby." 
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yourlovermumu · 10 months
Text
miguel has this thing...
he likes to watch you shoving your fingers inside your pussy while he just stands there and watches
its torture to just watch you moan and whimper as you desperately try to bring yourself to an orgasm.
he wants to help. he really does.
but would you let him? he just caught you masturbating because he was lucky that you left the door to your bedroom open.
but god-- this turns him on so much...
watching the way you moan and how your face shows your pleasure with your slick running down from your finger to your wrist.
he has to bite his lip to not let an groan when he watches the sight in front of him, his sharp teeth sinking into his soft lips.
so after that incident where he silently watched you masturbate, he could not get that imagine out of his head since.
seeing you like that bloomed multiple fantasias in his head like he was a teenager that just discovered porn.
i mean dont even get him started on your pussy--
its so pretty. he just wishes he could slide his cock up and down your folds and watch you whine for him to put it it.
he wishes you would invite him to help you out instead of using those fingers of yours that he doubts could reach anything.
fuck. sometimes he wishes he could just barge into your room while your sleeping and rip your panties apart and then let his tongue ruin you.
he wishes you would ride his cock, let him be inside you. you would look so pretty bouncing on his dick.
he wants to cum in you so bad
he wants to make you a mommy. god-- the things he would do for you to have his kids.
he would never really admit it but he wants you to bounce on his dick till his seeing stars and calling out your name in desperate.
''huff-- huff-- y-y/n...god- ah- fuck-''
he would grab your hips to try and control the movement of your hips, because no- he does not want to cum yet. he doesnt want this moment to end yet. not yet, not ever.
''f-fucking-- ahah- hell...s-slow down, love.''
but despite him not wanting the moment to end anytime soon, he cant really stop you, because you feel so good. squeezing him so nicely that his cock twitches inside your pussy.
and even after he cums and fills you up all the way, he'll still refuse to pull out. he wants to stay connected to you. he wants to stay inside you.
and that would lead to him overstimulating both of you and leading to him cumming inside you once again, while he growls in your ear.
when he does eventually pull out though, he would pant heavily and have you trapped in his arms in a warm and tight hug.
but once he does recover, he would waste no time in flipping you over so you laid on your stomach.
he would have a firm grip on your hips as he dragged you closer to him by gripping them.
''my turn, cariño''
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javierpena-inatacvest · 4 months
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Cramps
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Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.
Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)
Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes
A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u
Bitchy. 
You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 
You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 
What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 
 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 
Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 
Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 
So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 
“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 
“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 
“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 
For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 
Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 
You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 
“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 
“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 
Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  
You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 
“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 
At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 
“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 
“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 
“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 
“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 
But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 
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You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 
Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.
Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 
Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 
Your period had come.  
In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 
“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 
It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 
“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 
Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 
“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 
You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 
“Thank you. You’re the best.” 
“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 
“Oh shut up, meanie.” 
“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙
“Love you too. 🤍” 
Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 
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Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 
As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 
“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 
Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 
You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 
“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 
“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 
“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 
“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 
“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 
“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 
“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   
“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.
“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 
As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 
As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 
“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 
“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 
Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 
“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 
“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 
“I think I can make that happen.” 
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About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 
“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 
Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 
“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 
“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 
“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 
“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 
Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 
But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 
“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 
“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 
Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 
With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 
“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 
Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 
“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 
Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 
Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 
“Frankie, holy fuck.” 
“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 
“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 
Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 
“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 
“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 
Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 
Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 
Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 
“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 
“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 
“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 
Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 
“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 
“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 
You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 
“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 
That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 
With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  
“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 
“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 
“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 
“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 
“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”
“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”
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evilminji · 4 months
Text
You know what would be both Cool(tm) AND Pants Shittingly Terrifying? Eldritch Space Whale Danny!
Except NOT! Because he's not a whale! Just snoozing and Giganto-Fuck-Off HUGE!
Imagine it! Danny. Joint Custody Child of The Ancients Of Time And Space. Space is SALTY AF because their BITCH OF AN EX has used his FUCKING POWERS, AGAIN, to CHEAT. Clockwork how DARE YOU.
You knew he'd be our Son in advance!
YOU SNUCK IN AND STARTING BONDING WITH OUR CHILD BEHIND MY BACK!
YOU [REDACTED]!
Danny? Sitting off to the Side as a Sentient Everything and Nothing made of galaxies and starlight, howls expletives at their Ex, who is being... REALLY snippy back? WOW, Clockwork. I mean, JESUS, man. Danny's from "oh bless their heart" Nowhere, Midwest. And even HE thinks that last one was both backhanded and cold af.
......he should take notes. *continues to eat his popcorn*
Anyway! APPARENTLY, Space Parent has taken him in the divorce. With much huffing. Tucked under their arm Like The Football(tm). And honestly? This is kinda hilarious, so he's cool with it. Byyyyyy~ Clock Dad! See you on weekends~☆!
*Exasperated Time Noises*
It's pretty cool! He learns a lot. Learns he's probably? Gonna be SOME variation of Space Ghost. Might even take over Space's... well, EVERYTHING, should the unforeseeable occur. So obviously, gonna have to learn The Family Business, as it were!
Which?
UNSPEAKABLY HYPED, YES PLEASE.
SPACE AND STAR STUFF! HECK YEAH!
Unfortunately? Still a Halfa. Bleh, squishy need to eat and sleep. Why they get in the way of Hyperfixation? Why no more space dust? Nooooo, don't drag him away from the controls! He can still learn! Sleep is for quitters! Cowards! *whining in Give Me Back My Blorbos, You Monsters*
But, no. He apparently has to "take care of his body" and "not burn out". Eat "real food". A protein bar counts! He probably ate one of those! Give him back his STARS! He doesn't CARE if he sounds like a toddler! That's DIRECT ACCESS TO THE SECRETS OF SPACE ITSELF! He'll BITE, so HELP HIM-! *Is scruffed like a cranky infant being carried off to beddy bye*
Injustice! D:<
But, none the less, body's require sleep. He shovles down his food, washes up, and flops down in his bed. In the nice lil cozy "Safe For My Half Apprentice Who Is Also My Adopted Son" corner. He passes out in that corner. Starts to float, as he has done countless times before, when agitated before bed. Floats OUT of that corner.
That Safe Little Corner.
IN THE CENTER, THE BEATING HEART OF SPACE.
You know... the place ALL OF SPACE connects too. Where Universe Form and Die. The Grand Recycler. Dust to Dust, from the ashes of old, to the creation of new. Where PORTALS are randomly assigned. So that the Omniversal Ectoplasmic Levels may always be balanced at near to perfect levels, allowing free flow of Souls through the various Reincarnation cycles.
Space, of course, doesn't MANAGE the Ectoplasm itself. Nor the Souls! Different Ancient for THAT, but they DO manage the PORTALS. We live in a SYSTEM after all. Everyone has their "departments" as it were. So really, it's quiet... Danny? Honey? Awful quiet back there! You, uh, fallen asleep, Starlight?
*empty room*
(O.O)
*inhale* AAAAAAAAAAA-!!!!!!!
Meanwhile! He be Snoozin'! And Ghostin'! Ghost Snoozin'! Is extra comfy, cause he weightless and got not booooones~☆!
But! He? Is not a child anymore! Has learned to... for lack of a better term, Let Go. To finally ACCEPT his Death. His inhumanity. His Amortality. Death no longer holds him, can no longer let him go. He is... not immortal. He is disowned, by his own doing and his own choice, at his timeless moment of Ending.
When Life let go of his hand and Death kindly offered theirs, he did not take it.
And that's okay.
It took awhile. Talking to older ghosts. Most vague and vast, near formless. Because it's... it's scary. And it's all you know. All, really, you've EVER known. Inherent to your identity, even after you leave that part you behind.
You are "human". "Martian" or "Xy'xeruian", something else, and you never question it. Even when you've left behind everything ELSE. Your name, your eyes, your history and skin. Yet you fly around and pretend. Still alive, still human.
But is that YOU?
Or just the form you found your start in?
And like? It's okay if it IS! Sometimes, yeah, you ARE. You look down deep and find a "don't know what you were expecting, buddy" sign stapled to a mirror. But more often? It's that last hurdle. The final step in Letting Go.
Everyone mourns at their own pace.
And they are the ghosts of who they were.
It helped. Mourning for the kid he was. Who was fourteen and wanted to be an astronaut. Who died and will never have a grave. The longer he exsists, for he can't technically be called Alive, the more painfully young that child seems.
It was okay.
To cry for Danny Fenton.
Then? To let him go. Let his memory, be memory. And his Past be the grave that child rests in. Loved dearly and remembered, but no longer binding his soul.
He doesn't have to wear that face anymore.
No tributes to the Dead.
He got? Kinda... BIG. Like REALLY big. Spiraling, serpentine, cracking ice, and burning galaxies. Like a fourth dimensional dragon, of ice and stars, somehow forcing its way into a three dimensional space. Atop it all, between two vast, impossible horns? Made of glacial ice coating the warping hearts of black holes, who's shape themselves seem to shift in unknowable ways? There burns, like comet trails, with super novas, compressed to decorative gems beneath glittering morning frost, a Terrible Crown.
He? Thinks? He MIGHT have wings.
He can't tell.
Because APPARENTLY he's a fuckin tesseract! Oh, no, sorry. He might me a Zone DAMNED PENTERACT!!! Is THIS what he gets for hanging out with Clockwork all the time? He just liked the quiet! Now his "true form" is PHYSICALLY PAINFUL for most people to look at!
Clock Dad WHAT THE HELL?!
(You see, now, why Space broke up with him? An ASSHOLE)
So! Danny stays, usually at least, in his "Hi, yes, I am Normal Human Man" Ghost form. But NOW? Now it PINCHS. Because it's TOO SMALL. But hey, that's fine! It's not like he has an ingrained habit of transforming when super tired and stressed! To float sleep for Maximum Restfulness(tm).
Ha ha!
Why does that feel like foreshadowing?
BECAUSE IT IS!
Danny? Snoozing! Space? Has LOST THE BABY! Portals? Have done a Jood Gob in Portalling, something they are vaguely sure they are supposed to be doing! Yay them! They have no brain cells but still enjoy helping! They moved a thing! That's helpful right? Yay! Probably!
And on DC's planet Earth?
They? Just choked on their fuckin coffee. One moment? La dee daa~ oooh~ look! Stars! Deep space! Oh, hiiii~ Watchtower! The NEXT? *every alarm in the building starts LOSING ITS SHIT* Giant World OBLITERATING SHAPE completely takes up the screen.
From near PLUTO.
There are NO WORDS TO DISCRIBE HOW FUCK OFF BIG THIS THING IS, MR. PRESIDENT. It will eat our nukes and LAUGH. Call! EVERYBODY!!!
Obviously? Superman. I mean really, OF COURSE Superman. Frankly, all the Supers. Because we would like to KEEP having a planet, thanks. Only? The more reports that come in? The more everyone is getting "oh fuck. This is a Workd Eater" vibes.
A massive, massive, Sleeping Titan of a Planet Destroying World Eater.
That MIGHT BE MAGIC.
*highly stressed Everyone noises*
And WORSE? Superman? Can't TOUCH it! Oh sure, at FIRST he could! But then he apparently pushed too hard in just one spot! And it felt POKED AT. So now, after flicking superman HALFWAY BACK TO EARTH to make him stop? No one can physically touch it!
But! There is hope!
Because? The creature is GREEN. Bright, luminous, Lantern Green! And Earth's Lanterns have already sent for back up. Combined? The were able to move a... hand? Paw? Something. But! With the combine forces of several nearby sectors of Lanterns? They promise the power to either relocate the creature or at least hold it in orbit until FURTHER forces can be deployed!
They refuse to harm the creature until it proves actively hostile, as it could have been seeking a place to nap and chosen one inconvenient to established planetary life. Frankly? Earth doesn't CARE where you relocate the giant Eldritch Space Dragon. Just NOT IN OUR BACKYARD, PLEASE.
....YES WE ARE SURE! We don't CARE if the scientific community of our planet is begging you to set up an area for them to place an "observation satellite"! No giant Eldritch Space Dragons in our solar system! It might WAKE UP!
Naturally, about half way THROUGH this Highly Delicate Operation?
Danny Wakes Up.
@hypewinter @hdgnj @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation
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