THOUGHTS (A Gumball x Darwin Fanfic)

Certainly Not Ideal

Warning: mature content ahead. Please click away if it's not your thing.

It's been hard not overstepping the fragile boundaries I've set between ourselves.

Personally, I think of myself as an avid user of the Law Of Attraction.Whatever energy you set out into the void, the void sends back.

Spiritual, not superstitious. But you wouldn't understand.

When I say I do it well (the law of attraction, I mean), I'm right. I've been hiding this from you for a while and you've noticed but not asked me, which is something you will probably regret. I get everything I want.

For example, I'm kissing you right now, aren't I?

God, you taste so sweet. It's like Smashmellows got a damn upgrade. It's hot, too, and it makes me tingle and uncomfortable, in a good way. I'm melting in your mouth, and it's not a dream.

It's not a dream.

I gasp as I realize what the what that actually means. Real life has consequences.

You take that gasp as positive reinforcement and moan inside my mouth. It's not, though, and certainly not ideal because I'm pretty darn helpless against you.

So, Penny's kinda.. going. Out. For a year and a half.

Oh? What about your relationship? Is it on break?

I will not settle for being a replacement. You know that. You saw that the first time you guys tried going out.

There's obviously something special between you guys, and I dont wanna ruin it.

Damn right.

Your fingers ghost over my skin, relentlessly. There's tightness between my legs, and I plead you to relieve me of it. You're smiling, fondling my tail haphazardly (you don't have a lot of experience with this no matter what you'd like to show, huh?) and the tightness is growing, and wet.

I grab hold of your ears, and the shiver that passes through you is very satisfying. I rub them, slowly but surely building up speed, and your hands falter on me, trembling. Your breath is hotter and wetter than I dreamed of, and it's killing me.

I press into your mouth again. There's something just so dirty about licking into passive you's mouth, tasting the candy still sitting on our kitchen table, the milk you had for breakfast today and the mint toothpaste you brush with.

It's getting desperate. You're moaning incessantly, your hands are everywhere, your hips are grinding into mine. My voice sounds needy and weedy as I grab your neck and push my nose into the crook, my teeth scraping across and into sweaty skin.

"Darwin, Darwin please." You pant out and I whine in return.

"What, what do you need-" but even I know there's no time for this, we're both way too close.

There's pain building up in my stomach and I love it, I know what's going to happen. And it does, ecstacy is white-hot and I see stars and I know I'm biting down hard onto your skin.

When I finally come down from the high, I see we've spilt a lot. But your sticky, vulnerable body is against me, your eyes are closed and your face is buried into the mattress, your arm around me. Suddenly I'm hypersensitive of everything around me - the warm afternoon rays through the window on the furry navy carpet, the stillness of the room itself, the lack of anyone else in the house. I live for moments like these nowadays.

I wish to live forever like this.

But I can't, I realize, looking at your pretty, drowsy face.

We need to talk.

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