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You were gripping onto a shelf lined with all sorts of files and papers, completely bent over between the rows inside what looked like a storage room. Dimly lit by the fluorescents peeking in under the door, shadows of passing footsteps appeared every now and then. Your pants were pooled at your ankles, the wood in your hold creaking with every shift in movement.
“Ko, please.”
He responded with a low whine from behind you.
He had been dry humping you for a while now, or at least in theory, because his dick was the furthest it could be from your achy cunt, sliding along your lower back instead.
You wanted to take matters into your own hands, but he was making it real hard with the way he was kneading your ass, still red from his smacks earlier, sending the stimulation straight to where you needed him most.
“F-fuck, I wanna– I wanna be inside you so bad.”
“Then go inside, you idiot.”
Of course, you could feel your patience wearing thin, your pussy was drooling so much it probably left a puddle at your feet.
“I-I’m trying baby.” he whimpered, burying his face in your hair.
You felt his hand grip your hip tighter, guiding you up onto your tippy-toes while his other hand reached down to lower his dick toward your puffy entrance.
When you felt his blunt tip pressing against you, your back arched on its own, a moan spilling from your lips as you chased sweet relief.
...And then his dick popped back upward, resting flat against your ass again.
“Fuck. me.” So close to feeling your sweet pussy just to have it taken away.
His hand shifted down to reach your clit, rubbing circles as he bent his own knees instead, but the angle just wasn't working.
He let out a growl, utterly frustrated with how he was cockblocking himself.
“You know what, puppy?” He straightened up, planting both hands firmly on your hips to steady you. “Sorry in advance.”
“Wha–”
Before you could ask what he meant, your feet left the floor completely. He hoisted your entire body by your hips up to where he needed you, and your hands scrambled wildly for support against the shelf.
All your complaints dissolved in your throat as Valko drove his dick all the way inside you in one swift thrust, knocking the air clean out of your lungs.
“There ya go. Good girl.”
And oh did he fuck you after that, like a man deprived of his needs for way too long.
Acting as if he weren't supporting your entire weight with his arms alone, he effortlessly positioned you to take every thrust.
“Finally– shiiit just like that ngh– you’re gonna take this dick baby.”
“Ko–”
You could do nothing but hold on for dear life and sob. Being fucked mid-air was too overwhelming, all control given up and your body completely at his mercy.
“Maybe next time we should get you a stool,” he snickered to himself, enamored by the way your back arched and tensed for him.
B/N : thought i might extend the edging curse to valko aswell :>
Had a good birthday yesterday, so here's a new prompt for you all.
Maddie has kept something secret from her family.
She is a trained assassin and killer. Though she left that life behind when she met Jack.
She changed her name, found an acquaintance (Alicia) who will keep her secret, and changed her appearance to blend in.
She indulges in Jack's ghost theory.
And then it is proven to be true.
And that both scares and excites Maddie.
It scares her because she might come across vengeful ghosts of those she's killed in her past life, and excites her because of finding something new to call her own.
Vlad is a good guy, really, but he's become too much like her father recently.
And then there's Phantom.
She knows that her son is Phantom. But she chose not to approach him about it. Instead, she will continue to act like Phantom is just a ghost so her son can learn new ways to defend himself from danger.
This was how she was raised, in a way. She wasn't showed parental love when she was younger. Just told to be strong or die. Jack taught her love and inadvertently showed her that her life before this was not a good life for her.
Danny: Well, for one thing, you totaled the Specter Speeder, which Mom and Dad are going to kill you for, and two, the group of people surrounding our crash landing.
Dan: Oh yeah, I also feel uncomfortable with how much spandex they are wearing. Do you think we landed in a weird sex cult?
Danny: If we did, you have to protect me. They do weird things to virgins.
Dan: Ill set the Specter to self-destruct with us in it, if it come to it.
Danny: Thank you
Clark hearing everything they are saying: Okay guys we are all going to have to back up a bit. We're scaring the alien children.
Bruce: Children? There are children in there?
Hal: Yes. My ring confirmed it during the last scan. Looks like twins from the Infinite Realms, a sector really far from our galaxy. They are the equivalent of 14-
Bruce: EVERYONE, BACK THE HELL UP. THERE ARE SCARED CHILDREN IN THERE.
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I really want to start incorporating more time with my husbands, but with being a mom with no babysitter and a spouse that’s invisible to the public, it shortens the possibilities just a tad.
However, we can still have cute little date nights! I’m sure there are more than these, if you have any ideas, please don’t be shy in sharing them!
1. Themed Dinner Night
Cook or order food based on a theme (Italian, sushi, breakfast for dinner) that you guys pick together. Set the table with candles, play music, and dress up for the occasion.
2. Movie Night with a Twist
Pick a movie neither of you has seen or rewatch an old favorite. Add cozy blankets, popcorn and even turn on the Ghosttube app if you don’t mind hearing your partner talking during a movie
3. Stargazing in the Backyard
Set up a blanket outside, bring drinks, and enjoy the stars together. Use a stargazing app to identify constellations.
4. Game Night
Play board games that are compatible for you to roll or play for them, card games, or video games that you both enjoy. For a fun twist, make it a little competitive with prizes. If playing a video game, you can bet with each other if you’ll win the round (if your partner isn’t omniscient lol) and whoever wins the bet gets a prize.
5. At-Home Spa Night
Have your partner pick which face mask to use, lotion to put on, fingernail polish etc and pamper yourself . Dim the lights, play relaxing music, and create a serene vibe.
7. Travel Night at Home
Pick a country you’d like to visit someday. Make a meal from that country, listen to its music, and maybe watch a travel documentary about it.
8. Wine or Cocktail Tasting
Get a few small bottles of wine or cocktail ingredients, and have a mini tasting session. Pair with cheese or snacks.
9. Photo or Memory Night
Go through old photos or videos, share memories, and talk about your favorite moments as a couple.
10. DIY Project or Craft Night
Work on a small project together, like painting and ask your partner which colors to use! You can even rearrange your room, if you have dowsing rods they can point to which furniture goes where.
—summary: The summer heat has you slipping between sleep and reality. Something not-so corporeal helps you cool off.
—warnings: ghost x human, monsterfucking, piv sex, mirror sex (technically), creampie, dubcon/somnophilia.
—word count: 1,3k
—a/n: no thoughts just horny. also on AO3
The best thing about living alone, you’ve come to realize, is the privacy. You’re free to do whatever: take your time in the bathroom in the morning or whenever you want, spend an eternity soaking in the claw-footed tub this house came with, walk around your home in the skimpiest clothing imaginable (not only does it help to beat the summer heat, it also (technically) leaves you less laundry to do), splay out on your king-sized bed in a starfish position, limbs akimbo, drag the full-length mirror in your bedroom in front of your bed and stare at the way any dildos you own get swallowed up by your greedy cunt.
No point in wondering why the last owner was in such a rush to get rid of it; so much so that he accepted well below market price for a freshly renovated, fully-furnished house with a moderate backyard in a relatively safe neighborhood.
The longer this heatwave lasts, the skimpier your clothes get. There’s barely any fabric to cling to your constantly sweat-slick skin by this point, just a tiny skirt hiked so far up your bare skin touches the wooden chairs when you sit and a shirt that’s more spaghetti straps than torso. The huge, double-door fridge is a reprieve, cool air billowing out and caressing your heated skin. It almost feels like a genuine caress, like someone’s cool hands sliding down your body.
Seriously, you need to get out of the house and meet people instead of fantasizing about the cool touch of your fridge. But the outside is infinitely hotter than the inside.
You kick the bedsheet away from your body, grumbling at the lingering day heat. You’d stripped the sheet from the duvet the moment spring chill had plunged into summer heat and stuffed the latter into the closet until fall. Even then, you tend to wake up without the sheet in the morning, finding it crumbled on the floor. Yesterday was another sweltering day. It has left the air stuffy and the fans only push the warm, stale heat around without providing any relief. You unplug them in a fit of frustration and cringe at the feeling of moisture when you lay against your pillow again.
Sleep doesn’t completely evade you but you’re not fully asleep, either. You think so, at least. There are moments of brief blackouts, where you open your eyes and turn to look at the time only to find not even an hour has passed. Your eyelids feel heavy.
Then, there are the hands on your body. Caressing, petting, groping. They’ve been there for some time now, just touching, feeling. They’re not cold, just cool enough to feel pleasant against your heated skin and inject some relief into your sluggish thoughts of sun and heat. A sigh escapes your lips at the sensation. Fingertips trance the expanse of your skin, draw constellations between your moles and freckles. The other hand moves to rest on your breast. It kneads the soft flesh, gently pinches your nipple between its fingers, runs a thumb over it.
You inhale sharply, heart thrumming in your chest, pressing your thighs together. It does little to quell the desire for friction, or touch. The hand tracing its fingertips down your body reaches your hip, then skirts across your flesh to rest on the inside of your thigh. You blink languidly; the heat is stifling, your head feels thick.
Cool fingers dip between your legs, press against your clit like — like they’re what? Testing the waters. You stifle the half-baked moan in the back of your throat.
The hands leave you all at once and you croak out a sound that doesn’t even sound like you, desperate and needy. They’re back not even a moment later, though, heavy on your hips as if they’re trying to guide you. You reach for a pillow and prop it under yourself. It’s a nice dream, you don’t need it to end because it forces you into an uncomfortable position that drives home the realization that it’s a dream. Because then you’ll wake up, alone again.
Something thick and heavy rests on your pelvis. Maybe this makes you a bad sex partner in this brief dream but you don’t want to reach out and touch it, guide it. If it’s your dream, your partner should know the where and how. The cool hands planted firmly on your hips pull you forward just slightly and the weight from your pelvis disappears. It rests against your entrance, but doesn’t push forward just yet. One hand leaves you and the tip of its cock drags through your slick folds, bumps against your clit.
“Please,” you croak, staring at the ceiling. Your throat is dry.
The stranger’s cock angles itself against your entrance and pushes in carefully. You take a slow, deep breath in, try to relax around the pleasant intrusion. The hands — under your knees now, guiding your legs apart. A body presses against your thighs. Whoever it is, stops, pauses for a moment. You clench around the cock buried in your cunt. A cold, shuddering breath hits you. Goosebumps rise on your skin. The hands push your knees further apart until there’s an ache in your muscles, and then they depart, one finding a spot on your waist, the other your breast.
It moves, then. The cock nestled deep within you sharply pulls back and thrusts in again. You scramble for anchor, to grab onto something but all you come up with is sheet that tugs loose. Their pace is dizzying, thighs slapping against yours, cock plunging into your wet cunt. The sound is so wet and lewd and goddamned loud in the still silence of your home. You go to stifle the half-moan half-groan in your throat but— wait, it’s your house, your dream, who gives a fuck about the neighbors? The cock in your cunt pulls nearly all the way out and thrusts in again and hits that spot, so good, dragging against your slick walls and you swear you feel every groove and dip, every goddamn vein. Your moan slips out involuntarily, and whoever it is here with you, seems invigorated.
The hand on your breast leaves, a forearm rests around your thigh, pulling it up and — fuck, their cock drives in so incredibly deep you nearly choke on your own spit. You scramble upwards, resting your weight on your elbows to look at your partner —
There’s no one there. Your bedroom is empty. But there’s a hand on your torso, cool fingers digging into your flesh and a forearm supporting your thigh and the shape of someone’s shoulder against your Achilles’ tendon. There’s a cock plunging into your cunt and you hear someone’s labored breathing.
The full-length mirror skids across the laminated floor and stops in front of your bed. Something invisible is thrusting into your pussy, gaping back at you in the reflection. Your face burns — your whole body burns. You can’t look away from the debauchery staring back at you. Whoever — whatever — it is, thrusts harshly, cold hands pulling you against their body. Your thighs are wet and sticky, slamming against theirs, your hole gaping back at you, being abused by something you can’t see. It sends you hurtling over the edge.
You come around the phantom cock with something reminiscent of a shriek and a moan and terror and pleasure all combined. Your cunt clenches around the thing your muscles sore and sweat beading on your skin. The cock plunges into you again and again and again and you blink back the tears and the fear and the overwhelming pleasure. The fingers on your body dig into your flesh and the cock nestled in you buries deep, thighs pressing against your own, and spills. It’s so warm, so pleasant. The mirror skids closer, right until it touches the edge of the bed.
Your cunt is forced wide open. Stuffed. The pearlescent cum coats your walls, oozes out from inside you, dribbles onto your bedsheets. The cock in you stays there but the body moves.
A small fogged patch, like warm breath, appears on the mirror, and then, letters.
He didn't really know what the cause of his brokenness was, just that he clearly and obviously was. Even before he died, he couldn't see color.
Unlike Jazz, whose soulmates began with their parents and continued to appear into her life and then stay in her life, Danny appeared to be soulmateless if it weren't for the fact that he still couldn't see color. Jazz, and everyone else in Amity, had the full rainbow and then some available to her before she even made it to middle school.
Jazz's soulmates were an easy and short list. Mom, Dad, her friend Kyle Weston, and her friend Spike. She had met Kyle in kindergarten, and Spike in third grade. All of her soulmates were platonic and familial, though there was still a chance that she was seeing darker shades of colors than they're supposed to be - it was more common than not for a romantic soulmate to brighten up the world that someone could already see.
Danny was in high school. And all he saw was grey, grey, and more grey. Occasionally, he could even tell that he was looking at black. It was unusual. He was broken. What else was he supposed to understand from that?
"Maybe your soulmates are somewhere else? Like, your soulmates are all French or something," Tucker suggested, offhand.
"Maybe," Danny pretended to agree. Frankly, though, he wasn't holding out hope.
He was already dead, after all.
If someone's soulmate passed, they just lost the ability to see whatever colors their soulmate had given them. Danny doubted that him being dead before meeting his soulmates would affect that specific phenomenon in any meaningful way. He would just never know.
So why the hell could he suddenly see this- this- this beautiful color after meeting some dude? He didn't seem to have noticed the change of colors, rushing off with a bright apology for running into Danny, as Danny's whole world flipped on its side. He- he had no clue how to find that person again. What was he supposed to do now?
Maybe... maybe start with googling what this color is.
Blue. Blue was the color of the sky, of oceans, of brightly colored birds and butterflies. It was so beautiful. Danny's eyes were blue! Danny decided just then that blue was his favorite color.
Who knew he'd finally find a soulmate after moving to Gotham? Maybe, just maybe, he'd find his other soulmates here too.
He shook his head; Danny knew better than to hope. Danny was dead. He can't have soulmates, now. Even if Danny could now see colors- or, well, one color, that didn't mean whoever was connected to him could also see their missing color(s). So even if Danny was connected to them, they... probably weren't connected to him.
...
"Sorry, Jay, I got held up at wor-" Dick trailed off, looking at his little brother's eyes.
They weren't that green before. He knows they weren't; after meeting Damian, Dick could see green. They could all see green after meeting Damian. Jason and Damian's eyes were both an olive green, only a slight shade difference between them, everyone in the family agreed. Not... not this neon bright green.
Jason's gaze snapped to Dick from where he'd been glaring at someone across the diner, and the brightness dulled. It didn't go away, but calmed down. No longer seemed like it was lighting Jason's face up. "What?"
"I..." Dick paused, mind racing. If Jason didn't know why Dick was staring at him, then nothing new has happened on his end. That means... "I think I ran into another soulmate."
Dick: Did you guys see that someone finally bought and is moving into the Smith's old mansion?
Damian, perking up: Do you mean Mr. Daniel? Yes he seems like a very appropriate man to be our new neighbor.
Steph, knocking him upside the head: You only think that because he has three hellhound lookin dogs that he let you pet when you ran into eachother on your walk with Titus.
Duke, snorting: And he said that if Bruce or Alfred came with you, you could bring Titus to play with them whenever you wanted.
Damian: You-
Tim: Daniel Fenton is weird. I looked into him, he has a seriously massive trust fund that is constantly being added to, but he has only used it four times. To import two of his dogs from an overseas reputable breeder, to pay for the vet bills of the third dog as well as adopt her, and finally, to buy that mansion!
Steph: So what?
Duke: Yeah isn't that a good thing? It means he doesn't go throwing around money for no reason.
Steph: It also means he probably hates whoever set up said trust fund.
Bruce: How would you know that?
Steph, raising an eyebrow: Has Jason ever touched his trust fund?
Bruce: *pouts*
Cass: *pats his back*
Tim: Also! He's a school teacher, author, and a part time engineer, he has no kids, hasn't dated anyone in six year, why does he need or want such a big house?
Damian, scoffing: You have a mansion you never use, a pent house, a boat house, and you haven't dated anyone in 4 years. Are you much better?
Dick: I didn't mean to start anything, I was just going to say hes kinda good-looking and super nice. He helped me-
Tim: That's another thing! No one is that attractive and nice and smart and super buff, thats like, against the laws of nature!
Dick, opening and shutting his mouth: Am I missing something?
Bruce, sighing: Tim is attracted to a civilian and his "bat brain", Steph's words not mine, is telling him that something just has to be wrong with said civilian because he's paranoid.
Duke, muttering: Pot meet kettle.
Bruce: I'm speaking from experience.
Dick: Ah, that makes more sense then.
Jason, walking through the door: You see your new neighbor? *whistels* Not bad.
Tim: Something is definitely wrong with him if Jason is interested in him.
Jason: *flips him off*
Alfred: Excellent, you're all here. I invited our new neighbor for dinner. I've noticed that with moving in, he has mostly been eating take out, and that simply won't do, so he'll be coming over at six, do try to be presentable.
Tim: Aha! A chance to prob him for answers! Alfred you're a genius!
Alfred, sighing: Yes I'm aware. Try not to chase Mr. Daniel away with your libido triggered paranoia please, he has a lovely tea garden hes setting up and I would like to trade, or buy some from him in the future.
The Hellhounds were imported from Greece, where Hades and/or Persephone has a breeding license for the hell hounds that turn out a bit too mundane blooded/ calm for the rough play that the Infinite Realms enjoy.
I bet Danny also has herbs and flowers for his tea like jasmine and rose and bergamot. Easiest to keep the blends in house.
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Dick: Did you guys see that someone finally bought and is moving into the Smith's old mansion?
Damian, perking up: Do you mean Mr. Daniel? Yes he seems like a very appropriate man to be our new neighbor.
Steph, knocking him upside the head: You only think that because he has three hellhound lookin dogs that he let you pet when you ran into eachother on your walk with Titus.
Duke, snorting: And he said that if Bruce or Alfred came with you, you could bring Titus to play with them whenever you wanted.
Damian: You-
Tim: Daniel Fenton is weird. I looked into him, he has a seriously massive trust fund that is constantly being added to, but he has only used it four times. To import two of his dogs from an overseas reputable breeder, to pay for the vet bills of the third dog as well as adopt her, and finally, to buy that mansion!
Steph: So what?
Duke: Yeah isn't that a good thing? It means he doesn't go throwing around money for no reason.
Steph: It also means he probably hates whoever set up said trust fund.
Bruce: How would you know that?
Steph, raising an eyebrow: Has Jason ever touched his trust fund?
Bruce: *pouts*
Cass: *pats his back*
Tim: Also! He's a school teacher, author, and a part time engineer, he has no kids, hasn't dated anyone in six year, why does he need or want such a big house?
Damian, scoffing: You have a mansion you never use, a pent house, a boat house, and you haven't dated anyone in 4 years. Are you much better?
Dick: I didn't mean to start anything, I was just going to say hes kinda good-looking and super nice. He helped me-
Tim: That's another thing! No one is that attractive and nice and smart and super buff, thats like, against the laws of nature!
Dick, opening and shutting his mouth: Am I missing something?
Bruce, sighing: Tim is attracted to a civilian and his "bat brain", Steph's words not mine, is telling him that something just has to be wrong with said civilian because he's paranoid.
Duke, muttering: Pot meet kettle.
Bruce: I'm speaking from experience.
Dick: Ah, that makes more sense then.
Jason, walking through the door: You see your new neighbor? *whistels* Not bad.
Tim: Something is definitely wrong with him if Jason is interested in him.
Jason: *flips him off*
Alfred: Excellent, you're all here. I invited our new neighbor for dinner. I've noticed that with moving in, he has mostly been eating take out, and that simply won't do, so he'll be coming over at six, do try to be presentable.
Tim: Aha! A chance to prob him for answers! Alfred you're a genius!
Alfred, sighing: Yes I'm aware. Try not to chase Mr. Daniel away with your libido triggered paranoia please, he has a lovely tea garden hes setting up and I would like to trade, or buy some from him in the future.
Damian, running down the stairs: The babies are coming!
Bruce: Excuse me?!
Tim: What?!
Dick: *murdered walrus sounds*
Danian: Alfred the car! Please! Let's go!
Bruce, running after him: W-Wait Damian what babie?! What babies?!
Car: *Speeds off*
*15 minutes later*
Damian, hushed voice: Am I too late?
Danny, shaking his head: She has only pushed out one so far. *points into a welping box*
Welping Box: *a large black dog with big ears, large curling goat's horns, a lion-like tail, and glowing fire-like eyes lays inside the welping box, panting with a round ripping belly and a single litte white puppy suckling*
Damian: Amazing. It doesn't have horns yet?
Danny: Urco grow their horns as they age, isn't that right Pearl?
Pearl: *Whines and lays her head on Danny's hand*
Danny: Such a good girl, strong girl. Sorry for calling you so suddenly, I hope your family isn't worried.
Damina: I told you to call me when it happened. Besides, there's no reason for them to freak out over some puppies being born.
Danny who has really bad PTSD and Paranoia brought on by Vlad bugging his house. So when Danny and Jason move in together, and Jason insists on a security system, he gives Danny full control. He lets Danny pick where all the cameras go, and he links them up to Danny's phone so Danny can shut them off to feel safe if he needs to.
Everything goes fine for a while. Danny shuts the cameras down when hes having a bad day, but usually he leaves them and even seems less paranoid about them as time goes on.
But then, Danny finally convinces Jason to let them get a dog. Jason agreed so long as it was small to medium size, so of course that ment they brought home some sort of massive breed that Jason pretty sure is part wolf. Or demon. But Danny insists its a small dog, and won't grow any bigger than 36inches tall, and he looked so happy and in love with the dog that Jason just couldn't say no. At least it was well behaved-
-But after a week or so of having the dog, it started acting weird one morning. Standing the middle of the living room, they barked at the corner of the house repeatedly, not coming for food or water or to play. Finally, Danny checked out what they were looking at, and as he dug around and searched, his body started shaking in fear.
It was a camera. Not one of their, it was more high tech, smaller, and not at all where Danny placed them. Danny threw the camera on the ground, breaking it, before frantically tearing the house apart in search of more, the dog more than happy to help him search. Danny looked and relooked and checked for four hours before finally collapsing in the closet and having a panic attack.
When Jason came home to the house torn apart he freaked out and was relieved to find Danny in the closet with the dog. Though, he was worried that Danny was completely despondent and that his face was stained with tears.
When he finally got him to talk, and tell him about the cameras, Jason was pissed. He had a good idea who planted them, and he was so angry that they caused such a setback.
Jason took Danny and the dog to a hotel, watching with a tense jaw as Danny did a sweep of their room 6 times before laying on the bed and passing out.
Filled with righteous fury, Jason went back to the house, gathered up all the smashed cameras and drove straight to Wayne Manor. It was a shame, Jason hadn't been feeling the pit rage as strongly as of late, and now suddenly it was bubbling all up to a surface, and just when Jason was thinking of trying to reconnect and mabe introducing them to Danny. But now, now he kind of just wanted them all dead for setting Danny back in his healing.
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