#—cleaning the bed after or moving the bed first

[lucimaaie]

we ✧.* tlou

pairings - santa barbara!ellie x reader

summary - ellie promised herself she wouldn’t get attached to anyone after santa barbara, look how that turned out.

warning - angsty, not proofread cause i wrote this pretty quick, short (as always),

After Santa Barbara, Ellie had no plan for the future. She’d left Dina and JJ and let Abby go. She knew would still have nightmares and the pain wouldn’t leave her. What else was there to do?

Maybe that was the reason she fought you as you tried to take care of her. “Leave me alone!” She said as you’d tried to help her up from the water, raising her arm around your neck. Thinking about it now, the memory of her weak attempt to tussle you made her laugh.

You fought as hard as she did despite being starved and traumatized yourself. She didn’t know your story, just that you were the only one who didn’t want to kill her as soon as you came out of that crowded cell. You knew that she was immune and that was it. Nothing else was important in the moment. Nothing she wanted to tell you anyway.

You took care of her so much she started to feel guilty for not returning the favor. Cleaning her wounds, taking first watch, giving her whatever food you two had left. Ellie questioned whether it was pity or too good to be true, that you’d try something the moment she relaxed. But as she got stronger, nothing bad happened. You cared for her all the same.

So she cared for you. She watched your back and let you sleep a bit longer since she knew her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. She held you the way you held her when she awoke screaming. Gave you light kisses everywhere to distract you (and her) from a haunting past she knew nothing of. Conversations weren’t your speciality. You didn’t know a lot about each other, but you knew each other.

Eventually, you got lucky and found an abandoned cabin far away from Santa Barbara and quickly settled in. It wasn’t big and there was one bed, but it was shelter. Ellie didn’t want to call it home just yet.

“We should move south.” Ellie blurted, shaking the snow off her boots onto the porch. She could already hear your lecture about letting the cold in, but that wasn’t her focus. Did she just say we? “I mean, nevermind. Here’s fine.” It wasn’t. It was cold as hell and she was tired of the cold she’d been in her whole life.

“No, why south?” You said as you adjusted the small sticks that provided at least a little warmth in the small space. Ellie came to sit down next to you, leaving no space between you. She looked at you, admiring how the orange light shone on your face.

“It’s hotter.” She held your gaze as you listened intently. “Probably make hunting easier.” Ellie knocked her shoulder into yours without much force.

“You ever been south?”

She shrugged before shaking her head. “Nope.” She looked at the fire. That might be a downside of south. No more needing to snuggle up to you to not freeze to death. South you probably have to give each other some space to cool off. “Was just a thought.” She scratched her ear. “What’d you do while I was out?”

“Counted our supply. put on the fire. cleaned our clothes. a bunch of nothing.”

“What about eating?”

“uh-no. forgot that part.”

“Course you did.” She sighed, rising to her feet and look around for the bag you two stuff all cans in. All your belongings in the cabin were generally pre-packed in case you had to run, but still the fact that you’d been able to accumulate these things together made her feel something she couldn’t describe. Annoyance was part of it. that she got so attached to you after she promised herself she wouldn’t. that it just complicated things. But that already happened the moment you’d kissed and let things go further.

“here.” She used her knife to open the can of beans and sat back next to you, handing them over.

“you do know we sleep in the same bed, right?” You hesitantly took the can and swished them around with the spoon.

“trust me i know, but i don’t need you losing body fat and clinging to me like a koala.”

“you’ve never even seen a koala.” You said, taking a bite of the beans. not bad but not good and most importantly not expired. You set the can down in the middle of you, signaling that you wanted to share. She shook her head and sighed as you pushed the can closer to her, your eyes saying ‘please.’ She took a small bite just to appease you and shoved it over to you. “just shut up and eat.” she swiped her thumb over the edge of your lip. “and stop eating like that. we’ll get you more food tomorrow.”

Hours later, ellie shot up in the middle of the night, her heart feeling like it would burst out of her chest at any moment. She choked on her own breaths as she buried her head into her knees. “it’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real—“ She mumbled the same words you did when you saw her like this.

“ellie?” You sat up as well, watching her with concerned eyes. She started to sob as she heard your voice, whether out of fear or relief you didn’t know but you didn’t give it much thought as you ran your fingers through her hair, letting her cry in your lap.

Eventually her tears stopped, leaving her with a pounding head and the comforting silence you provided. Her head rose from your lap and she pulled you into her, not willing to let go. Her head rested on your shoulder as her hands roamed under your shirt. There were no words for a while.

When there were words, they came quietly. “el?” you whispered. She didn’t respond for a while, still stuck in her swarming thoughts. “yeah?”

“where are you from?” It felt like a random question to ask, but there was no way you were gonna ask what she dreamed about.

She blinked for a few seconds, surprised. It was a simple question, yeah, but it could lead to other questions. she was scared to answer and ask back. “boston, i guess.”

“oh.”

“why’d you ask?” She let her head fall back on the pillow and tugged on your shoulder, silently asking you to turn around. And you did, facing her.

“i guess i just realized i never knew that stuff about you.” You said, fidgeting with her hands as you awaited her response. It felt like some dangerous territory, you weren’t supposed to cross. That was weird, you already crossed other, farther lines. “should i have not asked?” You whispered, tentatively.

“no, you..” She cleared her throat. “you can ask.” She finally looked at you, eyes soft with fear, pain. “i just..i don’t wanna talk about it all.”And go back there, she wanted to say.

“you don’t have to.” You scooted closer to her, laying your head on her shoulder.

Elie wrapped her arms around your back, her legs around yours, and looked at you. She let out a deep sigh as her heart beat for a different reason this time. “we don’t have to talk about it all. not right now.” we, there was a we. she wasn’t making it up. “okay,” She kissed your forehead.

thank you for reading!

[luveline]

hii can you please write about Hotch adoring the reader at night as she's sleep talking sweet things please please?? love you!

The first thing he does when he gets home that night is pop his head into Jack’s room. He wants to go in and kiss his forehead, or maybe hold his hand, but he’s worried he’ll wake him and it’s nearing three in the morning, so he whispers, “Love you,” and heads to the master bedroom. 

You’re sleeping not dissimilar to Jack, on your back, the sheets pulled up to your turned head. Aaron moves away from you reluctantly to get undressed and change into soft sleep clothes. He cleans his face and brushes his teeth, and when he returns to you, you’ve curled your arm over where he should be as though you’d sensed his homecoming. 

He shuffles to you in the dark. Pulls back the sheets, and slides under your arm. He finds your hand to hold and brings it slowly to his lips, letting your hand rest over his mouth indulgently. 

He closes his eyes.

After a short case like this one, he isn’t tired enough to forget how much he misses you. If it had been a week away, Aaron would’ve come home and collapsed knowing he’s back with you, and that you’re going to look after him, but it’s only been two days. All he needs now is a kiss.

“Miss you.” 

He clasps his hand over yours, takes your hand to his chest to see you without obstacle. “I missed you, too,” he whispers, though he squints at you after. You aren’t facing him. “Honey?” 

“Aaron…” 

“Yeah, it’s me. You okay?” 

You rub your nose into your pillow and make a nonsense sound. 

Oh, he thinks to himself. Is she…

“D’you– did you have dinner?” 

“Are you awake or not?” he asks. 

No answer. You can’t be awake, then. You’re talking in your sleep, silly disjointed murmurings, your voice like velvet despite the late hour. 

Aaron hasn’t woken you with his questions, so he assumes you’re sleeping deeply. He shuffles further into the bed, onto his side, and wraps an arm around you. Careful in the dark, his nose comes to rest against your cheek.

“Well, we can try again tomorrow.”

“Shh,” he says softly, “shh, honey.” 

“‘Cos of the time,” you mumble.

He breathes in your skin. This is nice, he supposes, sitting and listening to your voice. You don’t even have to wake up. Aaron must spend half an hour listening to you talk yourself, or whoever it is that’s opposite you in the dream. It’s okay, we can fix it. I don’t know what colour that is. It’s Jack’s book. The book. And then your dog will come home. 

He’s nearly sleeping when it runs back to him. “My hubs,” you mumble, hand suddenly alive where it twists under his arm to return his hug. “Miss my hubs.” 

Aaron laughs in earnest. He’s never heard you call him such a thing. “Missed my wife,” he says, giving your cheek a quick kiss. “Love you.” 

“Miss him… want him to rub my back.” 

Your whining is adorable. Aaron pulls you bodily onto his chest and begins to rub your back, smiling, happy to indulge your sleepy nonsense with whatever it is you’re craving. “How’s that?” he murmurs. 

You don’t talk again for a while, but when you do, you say, “He needs to feed the fish,” and Aaron’s left wondering what exactly it is that you and Jack have been up to this weekend. 

[cvnt4him]

Hold on ..... Bc katsu fucking you in izus bed?!!

It wasn't on purpose.....initially. you n katsuki had a couple of drinks together in the yuei college dorm house, eventually one thing led to another and you found yourself fondling each other's body through sloppy spit filled kisses and sweaty movements trying your hardest to get each others clothes off. Within an instant of stripping you of your close he turned you around and pushed your face into the pillows. He fucked you roughly from behind, not much prep due to him being extremely horny. The gutteral groans he let out the second his cock entered your walls were perfect. You could tell which each thrust he was losing more of his composure, his control. This big tough act he out of was falling. Soon the groans turned into stifled moans and small carefully muffled mewls. his hips piston into the back of your ass with such heavy force. He felt the edge coming quicker than expected, katsuki hated when he got like this he could never hold back. He lifted his foot onto the bed and thrusted into you with so much force. The wind was literally knocked out of your lungs, you were gasping but it's as if the air left as soon as it came in. Katsuki had a hand placed on your lower back slightly on your ass while the other held your head down with a terrible grip, your head was beginning to hurt but how could you begin to care when you had a soon to be pro heros cock inside of you?! Katsukis motions were getting sloppy, his thighs flexing and slightly quivering as he chanted in his mind not to cum just yet, his forehead was sweaty and the hot breaths you both let out were moistening the air. Katsuki soon began to speed his thrusts up once again, making the entire bed shake. The faster he moved the rougher his thrusts got, the back of your thighs and ass were sure to be red, not to mention the fact he'd been gripping your ass cheek terribly hard.

“ fu- fuck...”

His small words were breathy yet strangled, you could hear the way he was holding back. His thick and veiny hand brang a harsh slap onto the flesh of your ass, not just one however. Soon it was two, then three, then four and so much more. He couldn't stop, the slight jiggle of your ass when he hit it triggered something in him. He had his eyes squeezed shut when you two first started in hopes of not cumming, but when he seen your ass bouncing back against him without his help, the way you were just ass needy for him as he was you... Fuck how could he not cum inside?

You two cleaned yourselves up, slightly sobering up after the liquids you two ended up losing. He sniffled before standing and taking notice of his surroundings. His slightly blurry eyes blinking away the tears that wettened his eyes. Katsukis eyes widened before he realized...... That was dekus room..... He looked around at every little detail of the room before his eyes landed on a limited edition super rare or wtv all might card that was preserved in a card slip thing to keep it clean n unbent n shit. It looked u touched and so beautiful, identical to the same one katsuki had....

Katsuki looked down at you and how your legs were slightly shaking, you were sitting on dekus bed cleaning the sticky messing between your thighs with some random blue shirt. You threw it on his bed before standing and leaving without a word. Katsuki gulped and walked out behind you. Hopefully the dimwit wouldn't notice......

Oh but did he. Three days after the party izuku finally decided to go back to his dorm instead of staying at his girlfriends, he mostly just went for some more clothes to take back to ochakos but whatever. He walked into a cold but not so empty room grabbing what he needed and heading towards the door before he realized.....the display he had up over his bed was all messy, the allmight bobble head's were slightly out of place and his other nicnacs were knocked over aswell, somewhat out of place. He hummed of disapproval before heading towards his bed to fix it. Once fixed he looked at his bed that was rather messy aswell...he knew he didn't leave it like that. So, who did? He looked at the crinkled all might shirt that he normally wears to bed and smiled. That was the shirt he'd wanted to wear. His face contorted in a confused way at the feeling of the fabric, it was rather weird. It wasn't as soft as it usually is once washed. He hadn't worn the shirt in a while though, how could it be dirty? He gave the shirt a quick smell before throwing it out of his hands and shivering. It smelled of a familiar smell....for the most part, bodily fluids.

Explaining this story to a couple of the guys he shared classes with they all laughed at the poor green haired boy who regretted not just staying in his room the night of the party. Katsuki however was trying his hardest not to laugh through the small tinge of guilt he felt. It wasn't HIS fault, maybe izuku shouldn't have left his dorm door u locked.

[duckymcdoorknob]

How your first sleepover with Genshin Men went

Fair warning, this is pure crack. No over-exaggerated fluff or cute stuff, just as real as sleeping beside another person can get!

Leave characters and ideas in the comments for part two !

Feat. Kaeya, Kaveh, Itto, Kazuha, and Diluc.

(Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five)

Taglist: @ticklish-n-stuff @elysianavenue @chrimsss @switch-writer @giggly-squiggily

You stared at your boyfriend lovingly as he cleaned up from the simple dinner date you had just shared. How lucky you were to have ended up with such a wonderful man like him… Lost in your own thoughts, you fail to miss the sudden pattering against the rooftop of his home.

He sighs and listens intently to the area outside before coming to a conclusion: it was way too heavily raining for you to go out there. When you blinked back to reality, you saw your lover knelt in front of you, wiping his hands with a towel.

“(Y/N), love, it’s really coming down out there… would you be okay to stay a little longer so it can calm down?”

“Hmm- what? What?-“ his words took a bit to process “I suppose…”

The rain failed to calm down, it only seemed to roar more severely. You sighed longingly as you looked out the window. You heard a gentle chuckle and felt a hand on your shoulder. “Follow me, let’s start getting ready for bed.”

You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean, follow you?”

“You’re my partner,” he answered. “There’s no way I’d ever let you sleep anywhere else than my bed.

You sighed and obeyed, completing as much of your nightly routine that you can (all while wearing pajamas that definitely aren’t yours). You settled into bed next to him, immediately being wrapped in his arms.

You settled with a smile, closing your eyes and cuddling close…

Kaeya: The Revolving Door

After a few short minutes of relaxation, you felt your boyfriend squirm beneath you. Within an instant, Kaeya had muttered something and gently slipped out of bed, carefully placing you on the fluffy mattress.

“What’s wrong, honey?” You asked, still fully alert.

“Bathroom light,” He answered as he stepped back toward the bed.

He settled back down, then after a little maneuvering, it was like he never left.

You both closed your eyes once more, attempting to rest.

Fifteen minutes later, you were about to fall completely asleep. That is, until you felt yourself being moved again.

Your lover ever so carefully moved you off of him, retreating to the restroom once more. You groaned and opened your eyes. “Kaeya?”

“I fr-go- bru-h- eef-“ the distorted response was undoubtedly from a toothbrush in his mouth.. you couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at him as you waited for him to return.

And as he had done previously, Kaeya returned to bed and settled down with a content sigh.

Perfect, now the two of you can-

“Wait,” your boyfriend groaned. “Light.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Go.”

Finally, the light was off, and Kaeya was in bed. You curled up against his chest and sighed with a smile. “Goodnight, love, ” you hummed as you closed your eyes.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he replied, kissing your forehead.

After two minutes, you felt Kaeya squirming again. Though, he didn’t move a muscle, despite the uncontrollable squirming.

“…Darling?” he asked softly.

Barbatos give you strength…

“Yes, my love?”

“I gotta pee.”

Kaveh: The Acrobat

The room was silent, albeit the gentle hum of a ceiling fan. You felt your consciousness leaving you slowly, and you were close to falling asleep…

Until you were accidentally smacked across the forehead by his hand.

While you were upset from being woken up, you couldn’t help but chuckle as you picked up his wrist to move it from your forehead. You planted a gentle kiss on the back of his hand and placed it down on your cheek.

You could’ve sworn you saw Kaveh’s lips curl upward at the gentle kiss, but it was short lived as he suddenly flipped over onto his other side.

You smacked face-down onto the mattress, barely registering what had happened. You groaned and slowly picked yourself up, rubbing your sore nose. When your eyes landed on the unmoving body of your boyfriend, you rolled your eyes and turned away from him.

You figured there was no sense in attempting to cuddle with him when he was moving so much. You closed your eyes and attempted to fall back asleep. After about five minutes, your eyes got very heavy, and you were near falling asleep.

However, sudden rustling from the other side of the bed made you alert. Before you could register what had happened, you were being pulled back into Kaveh’s arms.

You squeaked but ultimately relaxed, turning around to kiss him on his lips. You both smiled and you rested your head in the crook of his neck.

Finally the two of you were almost both asleep. You could barely keep your eyes open, and were seconds away from falling a totally asleep.

And then, it happened.

And boy did it happen suddenly.

Within seconds, you landed smack-dab on the hardwood floor, having been accidentally kicked in the back.

“AGH- KAVEH!” You yelped, rubbing your sore bottom.

Your boyfriend awoke with a start, looking around frantically. “Honey?! Where are you, what’s the matter?”

You groaned and clawed your way back on the bed, “Nothing… Nothing is the matter,” you replied curtly.

“A-Are you sure? Why were you on the f-“

“I am ten seconds away from taping your limbs to this bed, that’s why,” you spat. You sighed and fell forward onto his chest, wrapping your arms around him. “If you kick me off the bed again, I’m sleeping on the couch, capische?”

Kaveh only nodded fearfully as he kissed the top of your head.

Itto: The Loose Cannon

You sure did love your darling boyfriend. Life with him was never dull, and nights were… well, interesting to stay the least. He would always get so much more energized during the night, simply bouncing off of the walls.

Well, tonight marked your first sleepover, so he opted for eating spicy ramen with you and watching movies. Halfway through the film, your boyfriend excused himself to the restroom, proudly announcing that he had a battle to fight.

You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t help but smile at the stupid codeword.

By the time he returned, the movie was done, and you were drifting off on the couch. Your eyes flutter open as you smile at him. “Everything come out okay?” You teased.

Itto merely laughed, scooping you up. “Yeah, yeah. It’s beddy time now. Now, come on! Let this big strong oni keep you company!”

You allowed Itto to carry you to his bed, wrapping your arms around him. And that is how you ended up where you are now… caged in his giant arms as he squirms uncomfortably behind you.

“Itto…?” you asked softly. “Is everything-“

“Yeah! Yeah I’m great… just uh…” he trailed off. “Nope! I’m good!”

You sigh, back settling down against his chest, you felt him squirming still, frowning gently. Well, you had to trust your boyfriend. If he said he was okay, you had to believe that-

Your chain of thoughts was interrupted by an almost cartoony-sounding toot echoing in the room. Your eyes snap open, and you push away from your boyfriend, looking at him with disbelief. “Did you-“

“No!”

You begin to giggle. “Oh gods- okay-“ You chuckled despite the smell now filling your nose. Once it subsided, you returned to his arms with a sigh. “Feeling better now?”

Itto nodded against your head, planting a gentle kiss too. He returned to lying comfortably, his own eyes closing along with yours. The two of you are almost asleep when you hear the noise again…

“Itto!” you whined, scooting away from him. “Not again!”

“I’m sorry! It was that ramen, I swear!” The oni whined.

“Well try harder!”

“I can’t help it!”

You groaned loudly and rolled your eyes before returning to cuddle him again. You sighed, damn near falling asleep.

And yet again, that pungent smell filled your nostrils…

“Oh my gods- ITTO!” You yelped, turning away and pinching your nose. “Stoppit!”

Before he could reply, he stood up quickly from the bed, retreating to the bathroom with a hasty shut of the door.

It’s been twenty minutes… no signs of organic life from the bathroom.

You sigh and roll over.

Kazuha: The Apologist

Kazuha led you to his bedroom by your hand, gesturing for you to get comfortable. You obliged immediately, snuggling into the soft sheets. When you looked back at him, he looked sheepish. “Are you okay, dove? I can sleep on the couch if it’s too awkward-“

“No, no! I apologize… I didn’t intend to make you think something was wrong, I’m just-“ he sighed, looking away. “Do you think… would you be willing to hold onto me as I typically do you?”

You smiled at him softly, holding your arms out. Your lover smiled back at you and instantly settled down in your arms. He sighed in satisfaction as he felt your arms cage around him. As his body relaxed—and boy did it do so fast—a soft ‘oof’ left you. Kazuha immediately lifted his head. “I’m sorry, love. Did I startle you?”

You chuckled again. “No, Kaz’. Just wasn’t expecting it.” You gently rubbed soothing circles on his back, and you felt all of his worries melt away.

Things were going well. The atmosphere was quiet and peaceful. You felt yourself growing tired, but you were soon interrupted by Kazuha reaching up to itch his nose. “M’sorry,” he murmured.

“No need to apologize, my dear…” you gently kissed the top of his head.

More peaceful minutes passed until his leg randomly spasmed, causing you to startle again. “I-I’m sor-“

“Kazuha, honey,” you soothed, “it’s okay. You don’t need to keep apologizing for things you can’t control.”

“Okay, I’m so-“

You gently poked his side to state your point. He startled with a small squeak. Afterward, you gently ran your fingers through his hair, removing it from the ponytail and untangling it. He hummed in satisfaction, relaxing into your arms once more and closing his eyes.

It was a wonderful experience. Your lover finally passed out in your arms and slept for a good hour. As you eventually felt yourself growing more tired, you were startled awake when Kazuha shook violently in your arms with a gasp. He woke up panting, throwing his arms around your neck.

You sat up immediately, coddling him. Your hand returned to his back as you whispered in his ear. “It’s okay, love… I’m right here… I’m here…”

He trembled in your arms, holding you impossibly closer. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice shaking.

“Hey, hey… sweetheart it’s nothing to apologize about. I’ve got you,” you gently hummed, kissing the top of his head. “I’m right here.”

“These nightmares still plague me… I’m so sorry (Y/N)… I must’ve frightened you.”

“I’m okay, love,” you reassured him.

Kazuha hesitantly settled back in your arms, feeling utterly blissful from the gentle rubbing on his back. He slumped down against you once more, sighing gently as his breaths gently puffed against your neck.

After a while, you both were absolutely exhausted. Kazuha was the one who was still awake as you finally drifted off to sleep. He lay peacefully, listening to your heartbeat slow and slow.

As he was about to fall asleep… his tummy growled loudly, waking you immediately.

“I’m sorry…”

Diluc: The Furnace

You smiled as you felt Diluc’s strong arms cage around you. His hand immediately found refuge in your hair, gently scratching your scalp and sending chills down your spine.

He continued his actions for a while, and you seemed to in a blissful daze. Little hums of satisfaction left you as well as tiny gasps every so often. Your lover merely grinned, taking solace in knowing he was making you feel relaxed.

You were close to falling asleep when you suddenly felt extremely warm. You start gently panting as you swallow a few times.

“Love? Are you alright?” He asked you in a concerned voice, sitting up.

“Yes, of course,” you hummed in response. You reach over him onto the night stand, grabbing the water he always kept there and positively chugging it. “I think I was just a bit thirsty.”

Diluc chuckled as you lay back down. His hand found itself rubbing gentle circles on your back, the warmth traveling from your shoulders down to your hips. It was soothing, and his hand was wonderfully warm.

After a while, he got the idea to press his hand against your bare skin, having snaked it under the large shirt he had given you.

You shivered from the sudden change in temperature, but Diluc continued anyways. He looked down on you lovingly as he saw you relaxing in his hold.

Your lover let his head fall back against the pillow, and he gently closed his eyes. He was near falling asleep when he felt you peel yourself away to grab more of the water.

“(Y/N)?”

You sigh between gulps of water, almost like a toddler drinking some after being outside all day. You put the cup down with a sigh before slumping back on him. “Archons, I must just be dehydrated. Nothing more,” you quickly reassured him.

You settled back into his arms, exhaling as you felt heat engulf your body again. You narrow your eyes in confusion and annoyance.

What could be wrong?

You were watered, fed, and calm. What could possibly be-

As Diluc’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you impossibly closer, it dawned on you: Diluc ran warm.

You tried to ignore it, but the temperature continued to overwhelm you. You gently pushed away from your lover, hoping to get a second of relief from the blistering heat.

Your boyfriend opened his eyes and frowned, noticing your movements. “Darling?” His voice was laced with concerned as his palm traveled up and down your torso. “You’re drenched in sweat, is everything okay?”

You closed your eyes and exhaled. “Just peachy.”

“Are you sure?”

You sighed. “You’re very warm.”

He chuckled, allowing you to crawl out of his arms. When you settled down to his right, his left came out to interlock your pinkies.

Despite just being denied the gift of cuddling you in his arms, Diluc still insisted for you two to be touching…

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[cheynovak]

Sleeping beauty

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character     

Summary: REQUEST: Dean sees Y/N sleeping, in his bed, in his shirt and it drives him insane. The heat he feels rushing through his veins. And it's all because she looks so good while sleeping. He just can't keep his hands to himself.

Warnings: 18+ Explicit, Somno, mastrubating, unprotected P in V, slight dominance, ...

English is not my first language 

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Dean pushed open the heavy metal door of the bunker with a quiet grunt, his entire body aching from the hunt. The long drive back had done nothing to ease the tension in his muscles, and the only thing on his mind was crashing in his bed.

Dean pushed open the heavy metal door of the bunker with a quiet grunt, his entire body aching from the hunt. The long drive back had done nothing to ease the tension in his muscles, and the only thing on his mind was crashing in his bed.

It was late—really late. The dim lights of the bunker cast a soft, familiar glow over the stone walls, offering a kind of comfort he rarely admitted to feeling.

The hunt had been brutal, but it was over. For now, at least. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, feeling the grit of the day clinging to him like a second skin.

All he wanted was to crawl under his sheets and sleep for as long as his mind would allow, which wasn’t ever as long as he hoped.

Kicking off his boots near the war room, planning on taking a quick shower, just to clean up before going to bed. Or that was what he thought he'd do. He padded silently down the hall toward his room.

As he got closer, a sense of something different hit him—something warm, something familiar. The door to his room was slightly open, a thin warm light spilling into the hallway from the bedside lamp.

Dean's brow furrowed in confusion, but the weariness in his body kept him from thinking too much about it.Pushing the door open, he froze in the doorway.

There, nestled in the middle of his bed, lay Y/N.

She was on her side, facing away from him, curled up in the middle of his bed like she belonged there.

The soft fabric of his worn, oversized flannel shirt draped loosely over her body, the sleeves bunched around her hands.

The sheets were tangled between her legs, one knee tucked up and the other stretched out, the thin blanket doing little to hide her body. Her hair spilled across the pillow, framing her peaceful face.

Her hip and ass showing over the sheets since she wore little to nothing except a pair of panties, Oh god... what is she doing to me!

Dean couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. His eyes glued on her body. A part of him was surprised, but another part—one he rarely allowed to surface—felt like this was right. Like seeing her here was what he needed after a hunt like that.

After a life like this. Come home, find her naked or nearly naked in bed, fuck her till he find sleep himself.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer. Before he silently took his fresh shirt and boxers to go shower. While he closed the door behind him softly he kept looking not to wake her.

His mind spiralled in the shower. Why was she there? Did she miss him or maybe her own hunt was shitty and she needed him?

But all he could think of was her curves, how her ass lifted in the air, calling his name. Dean's cock was throbbing, his hand moved instinctively to it, making the release quick and hard.

But the second he turned the shower off, thanks to his own vivid imagination, he was hard again.

He walked back to his room, half expecting Y/N to be gone. But no... she was still there, in the same position.

The soft rise and fall of her breath was the only sound in the room, the quiet rhythm calming something deep inside of him. She looked peaceful, completely at ease. It was such a stark contrast to the usual chaos of their lives. And she was in his bed, wearing his shirt.

She turned a little more, showing herself a little better. Dean’s lips quirked up into the faintest hint of a smile. She is asking for it.

He stepped forward quietly, not wanting to disturb her, and sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly beneath his weight, but Y/N only stirred for a second before settling back into her dreams.

She looked so small wrapped in his clothes, the shirt swallowing her frame, and the sight did something to his heart (and cock) he couldn’t quite explain.

For a while, Dean just watched her sleep. His eyes traced the soft lines of her face, the way her lashes brushed her cheeks, how her lips parted slightly with each breath. Hands hovering over her curves wanting to touch her skin.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, just soaking in the moment, but for once, there was no urgency. No looming threat, no ticking clock. Just her, and the quiet sound of their breathing. Unless he counted his erection as a ticking time bomb...

They often enough had a quick fuck during or after a hunt. Just to release stress, this wasn’t different, all though he tried to ignore the sensation his cock was giving him. Just releasing stress.

He leaned back slightly, his hand coming so close to touch her. The warmth of her skin was a stark contrast to the coolness of the room, and he found himself wondering again how she’d ended up here.

Did she miss him while he was gone? Had she come looking for comfort in his absence? Or was she desperately looking for sex. That wouldn't be a first.

They shared a bed... couch... car... They settled boundaries before. And this was something he knew she'd be into.

His hand now warm on her hip made her lean closer to him, showing him a little more.

His flannel hung loosely off her shoulder, exposing the smooth skin of her collarbone, seeing how she was naked under his shirt.

Fuck! Dean had to fight the urge to reach out, to touch her, to pull her close, to knead and feel her breasts, feel how her soft nipple hardened with his touch.

Instead, he let out a soft sigh and ran a hand down her leg.

Carefully, not to wake her, Dean turned beside her on the bed, The mattress shifted slightly, and Y/N stirred again, her brow furrowing for a moment before she relaxed once more. Dean turned on his side, facing her, his head resting on the pillow just inches from hers.

But he couldn't stop himself. His hand moved slowly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. The touch was so light, so careful, as if he was afraid of shattering the calm of the moment.

His fingers moved over her collarbone to her breast softly kneading her flesh.

As if sensing his presence even in her sleep, Y/N shifted closer to him. Her body instinctively pressed into his, her ass moving against his hips.

Dean’s breath hitched at the contact, the feel of her so close sending a warmth through him. Fuck he needed her!

She mumbled something incoherent in her sleep, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his sheets. Dean chuckled softly under his breath, a rare sound in the stillness of the room.

“You always steal my shirts.” he whispered, even though he knew she wouldn’t hear him. His voice was rough with exhaustion and need but soft, the kind of tone he only used when it was just the two of them.

"This time you'll need to pay for it princess." He whispered while his hand dipped between her legs. Unknowingly she let him, moving her leg a little higher. "Fuck you're so wet already... did you...?" his voice broke off.

Would she? The idea of her playing with herself in his bed, in his flanel drove him insane. Her breath became deeper while his fingers played with her. Drawing slow easy circles on her clit.

He tugged her panties aside, before he freed his throbbing dick from his boxers. No longer able to wait, he rubbed himself against her wet core. The feeling almost enough to come then and there.

Seeing how her panties get wet with their movement.

A soft moan escaped her mouth, "D-Dean?" her voice sounded sleepy. Her hand moved back, trying to find him, and she did, pretty easily she found the back of his head, pulling him closer.

His other arm slid under her, pulling her just a little closer, and she instinctively settled into him, her head now resting against his chest.

"Shh..." He whispered. He turned her on to her belly, granting himself more access. Her hand kneading the pillow while he adjusted himself. Pulling her panties further down. Kneading her ass, kissing her flesh.

He guided himself inside, feeling her thighten just a little by the surprise of him. Her body reacted, a soft "Mhm." escaped her mouth, not knowing weither she was fully awake or he'd just given her a great dream.

"D-Dean?" she moaned sleepy. "What are you...Oh!" He leaned in closer, thrusting all the way in "Just enjoy baby." He said before he kissed her neck. She was clearly awake now, pushing her ass up so he could thrust deeper.

His hand fisted her hair, "Do you have any fucking idea what you’re doing to me? Sleeping in my bed, halve naked."

"Mhm..."

"What did you think of when you tickled that pretty little cunt of yours." Her head lifted. He knew... but he bit playfully in her neck. to hold her down.

"I felt it... while you where sleeping, I felt how wet you where without me even touching you." A breathy "Oh." escaped her mouth.

"You wanted me to fuck your sleeping pussy didn't you."

All she could was moan in response.

"Yes..."

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @kr804573 @nancymcl@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @call-me-mrs-winchester @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78

[propertyofemilyprentiss]

Soft skin and soft lips

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x non-bau fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Summary: Emily coming home from a case late at night, finding your stubborn form still awake (but not for long).

TWs: none

A/N: wrote this last week to cure my writer’s block (safe to say it did wonders). anyway! here’s my first fluff fic. enjoy <3

Word count: 1.5K

The sound of keys rustling into the door got you out from the half-asleep daydreaming state you were in after eliminating every possible distraction from boredom you had - a random TV show, scrolling endlessly on your phone, even cleaning the apartment. Normally, you would’ve gone to bed by now, but it was a Friday night and your girlfriend was coming home from a case, and you knew she would be exhausted after six days of tracking down another criminal. The least you could do is be awake when she gets home, though she always insisted that you didn’t need to do that.

But one thing was for sure - your stubbornness could almost compete with hers.

So here you were at almost one-thirty in the morning on your couch with a blanket over your legs, waiting for that magical sound. And as soon as you heard it, it felt like you’ve slept all day - you were wide awake, with a stupid smile on your face as you got up and went to greet Emily.

’’Hey, you”, came along with a long embrace as soon as she closed the front door behind her. 

You immediately noticed the corner of her lips moving upwards, her exhaustion temporarily fading when she got you back in her arms.

”Hey, I thought you'd be asleep by now”, she murmured, not really letting go, but pulling back enough to look at your face. That beautiful face of yours, those eyes that always made her heart skip a beat because of the look of pure adoration that engulfed them every time you saw her.

”And miss the opportunity of going to bed with my girlfriend tonight?”

The way you say that word, the way it lingers perfectly from the tip of your tongue, it’s almost embarrassing how you perfectly know how to tease her - she still gets flutters from it. She’s already sure by now that she will never get tired of hearing it, always making her feel like a lovesick teenager instead of a very capable FBI agent, for God’s sake.

”I missed you”, she whispers, her voice hinting the vulnerability she was feeling in that moment.

And that’s when you knew - the case was a lot tougher than usual. You didn’t need to ask questions, didn’t need any profiling skills to read the look in her eyes - the love, the worry, the exhaustion, the relief of your presence. It was all there.

That’s why you’ve always loved her eyes.

You smile affectionately, cupping her cheeks and planting a kiss on her forehead. And then you felt the urge to do more, continuing your kisses on both her soft cheeks to the tip of her nose, your own heart fluttering in your chest when she scrunched it adorably in response.

“I missed you too, love. Now how about a nice cup of tea while you go change, hm?”

Emily nods reluctantly, hating the thought of letting go of you in this perfect moment, but she knows that she can’t stay glued to you forever - though she would happily do it if she could. So the next best thing was a hot shower and a fresh pair of pajamas, knowing that you were waiting for her in the bedroom afterwards.

Her hands linger on your back for a moment before she forces herself to move away, but not before stealing a kiss, her lips tender against yours. 

“You missed that spot”, she teasingly whispered before heading towards the bathroom.

You couldn’t help the silly grin that emerged on your face, the flutters in your heart only increasing with her gesture. The way her lips are perfection, always in unison when they meet yours, the way she slightly squeezes her hands on your sides in a comforting way, the way her breath feels against your face-

‘God, get a grip on yourself’, you shook your head as you made your way to the kitchen, trying to do the impossible task of not falling in love even more as you made that cup of tea.

Searching through the top cabinet, you grabbed the only box there was, analyzing it for a moment. Berries, raspberries, strawberries - this should do it. You got one tea bag out, moving automatically around the kitchen with a comfortable familiarity as you gathered the rest of the supplies needed. And as you were waiting for the water to warm up, you inspected the mug with another stupid smile tugging at your lips.

“I ❤ my girlfriend” , was written with black font on a white background - you and Emily got a matching set after Garcia subtly suggested it at a girls’ night, rambling non-stop about how adorable it would be. And though you never thought you were that type of person, the idea immediately grew on you once you spotted Emily’s proud grin as she looked at you the whole time Penelope was talking.

Needless to say, those mugs were the most used ones in your apartment at the moment.

Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting on your side of the bed, Emily’s mug waiting patiently for her on the nightstand while you were not so patiently waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. You leaned against the headboard and sipped from your own matching mug, but soon put it back down when you felt your eyelids grow heavy. This was not the moment to fall asleep.

But maybe five minutes wouldn’t hurt, right? You will definitely hear when she gets out, or when she joins you in bed. So you closed your eyes and melted back down on the soft mattress, sighing tiredly before unconsciously succumbing to sleep in record time.

—

Emily was humming a gentle melody as she got out of the bathroom, feeling much more refreshed and excited to see you again. She was already dreaming of that cup of tea and the thought of finally sleeping in the same bed as you instead of an uncomfortable hotel room without your presence.

”Dar-“, she stopped talking as soon as she saw you fast asleep, adorably gripping the blanket, your hair laying messily all over the pillow. She swore her heart just melted on the spot.

Carefully, she tiptoed to her side of the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible to avoid waking you up, and picked up her mug, another smile creeping on her face as her eyes landed on the words on it. Yes, this was indeed her favorite one. 

Well, everything that included you was automatically her favorite. 

A few sips later, she placed it back down on the nightstand, turned off the lights and compensated with her nightstand lamp, and slowly got into bed, rolling on her side to gaze at your sleeping form. Then, almost subconsciously, her fingers gently started tracing all the lines and features in sight, your slightly parted lips, your cheekbones, nose and eyebrows, taking in your peaceful expression. It’s almost unfair how beautiful you look even when you’re sleeping. 

“How did I get so damn lucky?”

With an even gentler motion, she snuggles up next to you under the blanket, letting her arm loosely around your waist while she buried her face in the crook of your neck, the familiar scent of your shampoo filling her nostrils. She lets out a long sigh, leaving all the stress and tension behind with it and setting herself present in this moment. With you here next to her, in your shared apartment, feeling your skin against hers and listening to the sound of your breathing, Emily finally feels the familiar sense of comfort and contentment - finally feels at home.

And God, how she missed this - she sometimes wished she could stay like this forever.

So, even if she can already feel herself starting to drift off, she forces herself to stay awake for a few more minutes, just savoring the moment of being close to you.

”I missed you”, she repeats against your chest. “I love you so much, it sometimes becomes scary, you know? When I’m away for more than usual, I dream of you…every single night. And somehow I wake up with my heart aching more for you”, she kept rambling in a whisper, taking advantage that you can’t hear her. “It’s like it can feel your absence in every place I go without you. And now I’m home and everything feels right again. Because you are here…thank you for being here”, her voice slightly trembled at the end.

And a few minutes later, after her breathing became deep and regular, signaling her asleep state, you let the smile finally break onto your face. You were definitely going to bug her about it in the morning.

”I love you too”, you said it back with the softest voice, placing one final kiss to her temple.

[zxoaii]

Tease

fem! reader x Kento Nanami

Summary: Nanami gets even after a tease.

SMUT

WC: 1.7k

Find this and more on my wattpad!

Wattpad: _Bolter

[ Y/n ]

The crash of glass shattering on the floor startles me awake. My hands instinctively reach for the drawer next to the bed. As I fumble fearfully in the dark, a curse comes from the kitchen.

"Nanami?"

I get out of bed and make my way to the doorway. Nanami stands in the kitchen with his back to me. "I just broke something. Don't come over here barefoot."

I turn the kitchen light on for him. "I didn't want to wake you." He awkwardly moves to avoid looking at me. "You didn't want to wake me because you didn't want me to know you left the house or because you wanted to let me sleep?"

It's not a well-kept secret he's been sneaking out. Only it doesn't bother me as much as it should because I know he's working as a jujutsu sorcerer on the side.

"I thought you said you were done with all of that."

Nanami sighs and finally turns to face me. "Oh my god." My hands instinctively cup over my mouth. He's covered in blood.

"Not all of it's mine... And really it's just a superficial wound. It's just bleeding a lot."

He sweeps the glass up and dumps it into the trash. "It's not a big deal." I trail behind him as he makes his way to the bathroom.

I would ask but he wouldn't tell me. "Stop it. Sit down." Nanami stops digging through the cabinets and sits on the edge of the tub.

The first aid kit isn't even in the cabinets. It's in the closet. I grab it from the shelf and check the contents. Really, how am I supposed to treat him with this?

I set it down on the counter and wet a washcloth. Nanami can't hide the guilty look on his face. It would probably feel good to chew him out for this incredibly stupid thing he's doing.

When he went back to being a jujutsu sorcerer I thought he'd take it easy. After you almost die and decide to retire you usually learn a lesson. I guess he didn't.

The cloth cleans the blood off of his face. Did he really think he could hide this from me? I tilt his head to wipe blood out of his hair.

"It wasn't supposed to be this bad."

"You don't need to explain yourself."

It's hard not to be incredibly pissed at him. And at the same time, it's hard to not find him incredibly sexy sitting here while I fix him up.

I drop the cloth into the sink and open the first aid kit. He'd probably be better off with stitches. Instead, I grab rubbing alcohol, antibiotic cream, and some bandaids.

I search around the bathroom for our cotton pads to clean the wound with. "You're killing me in that dress." He should be used to a slip and some underwear by now.

I grab the box of cotton pads and bring them back over to him. "It might be easier if you sit on my lap." He isn't actually making moves right now, is he?

"Stop it."

I drench the pad in the alcohol and tilt his chin up. "I'm serious." His hand reaches up to grip my hip as I start cleaning the cut. He's pushing it.

"Hold still." I pass over the cut several times until it looks mostly clean. The bathroom light isn't great for looking at these things. "Sorry, you were just the closest thing to me." Nanami's hand falls off my hip.

I take the cream and apply it over the entire cut. There's more than he needs but hopefully, it will negate anything I missed while cleaning it out.

"Sweetheart, come on." Nanami runs his hands down my waist and hips while I find the largest bandaid we have. "Don't do this to me. Just give me something." The rip of the package replaces the response he wanted from me.

I place the bandaid on his forehead. My hands cup his face, caressing his cheeks gently. It's too hard to not give him anything.

He holds my ass as I lean in to kiss him. My hands slide back into his hair. There's no rush to the way he kisses me. Nanami's mouth is dangerously addictive.

It's almost painful to pull away from him just as he starts to take it further.

"What?" He looks up at me from his seated position. This punishment is equally bad for me. "You're not getting anything tonight." His hands fall to the edge of the tub as I walk back to the bedroom.

"And you should shower too," I add as I shut the bathroom door. If I caught a glimpse of him showering after I told him we wouldn't be having sex, it might actually kill me.

The bed welcomes me back. I can hear Nanami mumbling curses in the bathroom. It just has to be this way.

.  .  .

"I'm back!" The door shuts behind me with a click. I carry the groceries to the counter by myself. Usually, Nanami takes a couple of bags for me when I get home.

He walks out of the bedroom with his tie in hand. "Where are you going?" I ask as I start grabbing things from the bags. "Nowhere."

"Really?" I put my things down as he approaches me. "It's for you." My brows furrow as he holds it out. "What?"

"Put your hands out."

What's his point? I hold my hands out for him, palms up. Nanami closes my fingers into fists and then starts tying the tie around my wrists.

"Kento-"

He presses a kiss onto my forehead and then guides me back to our bedroom. Is this happening? "Do you enjoy teasing me?"

The pieces click in my head. He's still mad about the other night. Oh... I'm so in for it.

"Do you?" His fingers work away at my shorts while he speaks. "I couldn't reward bad behavior." Nanami pulls my underwear off with my shorts.

"That's not an answer. Open your mouth."

He holds two fingers up to my lips. I open my mouth and he places them inside. "Good. Now suck them. You're going to want them to be wet." I suck his fingers shamelessly until he removes them from my mouth.

"I'm going to ask you again. Do you enjoy teasing me?" It's hard to focus with the sexual tension in this room. "Yes." The word falls from my lips once, twice, and then a pathetic third time.

Nanami wipes some spit off my chin with his thumb. He nods. My breaths come rapidly. I can't take this. My legs spread further across the bed.

I choke out a moan as he presses his fingers into me. My hands pull at the restraint. "Look at me." My head is turned to the side, my eyes are squeezed shut. "Look at me." Nanami coos tauntingly.

I force myself to look up at him. His fingers pump in and out of me at a steady pace. Still, it's not nearly enough. "You're so desperate aren't you?" There's no point in not giving him what he wants.

I want it too.

"Oh god, yes."

Nanami pulls his fingers out of me. A frustrated sigh is all I can respond with. My body reacts to every minor touch. His fingers grab the collar of my shirt.

"Don't-"

His arms flex as he tears it down the middle. His lips meet my neck and then my collarbone. All I can do is lay there and moan desperately. I need more.

"Nanami..."

His name comes out as a breathy sigh. It hurts to not be able to grab at his hair his shirt or his pants. I squirm as he kisses down my chest to my stomach.

How is he not going insane right now with me?

My lust starts to turn to desperation. I can't handle any more of this. "Just fuck me." Nanami raises his brows at me. "Sorry?"

Hot blush rushes across my cheeks. "Please just fuck me." The hunger in his eyes grows wilder at my begging. "Well..." He unbuckles his belt and drops it onto the floor.

I can't see as well as I want to but the sounds of him undoing his pants drive me just as wild. He leans over me on the bed. "And your shirt."

"My shirt?" I reach up and grab at his shirt. Nanami stands up, pulling away from my grasp. He takes his time unbuttoning his shirt.

I take in what I can. I hate the way being a jujutsu sorcerer almost kills him. But I have to give it credit for keeping him so fucking fit.

His muscles tense and flex as he leans over me again. "Say it one more time." Our eyes lock in a lustful trance.

"Please fuck me."

Nanami gives a small nod and grabs my hip with one hand. The way he does that drives me crazy. He doesn't waste time starting slow.

My moans echo through the room as Nanami thrusts into me relentlessly. His free hand grips my thigh. It will bruise tomorrow and he'll kiss me there. That thought drags another moan out of me.

"Don't stop." With nothing else to do my nails dig into my palms. Nanami's gruff moans start to mix in with mine.

One of my legs wraps around his hip, allowing him to hit a different angle. He adjusts too. Nanami slows his pace slightly and thrusts deeper.

I watch as his head falls back. His moans and curses turn me on in ways no one before him ever has. He drops my thigh and grabs my hand, pinning them above my head.

Nanami leans in closer while he holds my hands. His lips tease mine for a moment before finally kissing me. I drink up his taste like it's the only thing keeping me alive.

My stomach begins to tighten with overwhelming pleasure. Nanami continues to his me as I moan louder. My wrists are pressed harder into the mattress.

"That's it." He presses desperate kisses along my neck as I give in to my orgasm. "Good girl." Nanami drops my hands and sits back up.

"Good girl, just one more minute."

My head digs back into the mattress as my back arches up. His moans become more and more strangled with each minute that passes. I watch as he presses a hand against his forehead.

"Fuck, Y/n... Goddamnit." His hand falls onto my stomach as he finishes. The room falls silent except for our ragged breathing.

After a moment Nanami brushes his hair out of his face. He licks his lips and looks down at me.

"I enjoy teasing you too."

[coyotelip]

Regulus is suffering from a depressive episode and all he wants to do is crawl into bed and not move for days, so his apartment is a complete mess.

For the first couple of days, he is still able to answer James with short phrases that he feels tired after work and they can meet afterwards, but after the third day, James can no longer ignore the disturbing feeling inside and comes straight to Regulus' house.

Regulus lets him in, of course, but he feels so anxious and ashamed because of the pile of dirty dishes and packages of bad food that has kept him from falling into a hunger coma. His bed and floor are also covered with a pile of clothes that he hasn't even bothered to take to the laundry.

However, James just kisses him softly on the forehead, not reacting to the boy's dirty hair, leads him back to bed, makes him his special tea, takes the pile of clothes and disappears from the bedroom. He spends some time cleaning the surfaces and starting the laundry, and then returns to Regulus to crawl under the covers, hide him in his arms, and quietly tell him the news of the last few days, letting Regulus soak up his energy and warmth.

[le-panda-chocovore]

Toji isn't a man of words, yet alone feelings. But he knows when he is in love, he just finds it hard to express himself. What he doesn't know is that it shows. He shows it, all the time, and it's so clear and obvious that Shiu feels his heart stop each time it happens. It's all in the little gestures, the soft looks, and the daily things Toji does when he's with him.

Toji doesn't sleep much, because he doesn't like to and because he's a really light sleeper, and noise can wake him. So he's often the first to open his eyes in the morning, but he doesn't move. He lets the sun rises by the window and lights up the room with its warm rays. He looks at Shiu still in the dream world, breathing lightly, and looking so comfortable. Toji never wakes him up, but he realizes immediately when Shiu stops dreaming. The first thing he does is kissing him. On the forehead, on the cheek, or in the lips, depending on the mood. And he teases, "Hey sleeping beauty, welcome back to the living world." And it makes Shiu groans, but he likes it. It's sweet, it's soft, and it helps him waking up better.

Toji isn't a good cook, but he knows Shiu is excellent at that. And Shiu hates having Toji in the kitchen because the man is a mess and makes a mess. He keeps talking nonsense and tries to eat the food Shiu's cooking. If not, he tries to steal food in the fridge. But Shiu can't bring himself to kick the man out when Toji slides behind him and puts his hands and Shiu's hips. Toji then lets his chin on Shiu's shoulder, maybe gives him a kiss on the cheek or the neck, and calmly hums. His grip is light enough to let Shiu move freely. Sometimes he asks, "what are you cooking today ?" and sometimes he doesn't say a thing. Sometimes he opens his mouth to ask for a taste of the food, and sometimes Shiu feels generous enough to let him have it.

Toji is a freeloader, he has no shame in that and doesn't plan to give Shiu his money back at all. But he can be nice sometimes, he doesn't like feeling in debt and Shiu has been generous toward him for a long time. So Toji tries to find ways to pay him back. At first, when their relationship was something blurry between Coworkers with Benefits and an actual couple, he proposed to suck Shiu's dick, or any kind of good sex. Now, Toji makes sure not to eat Shiu's favorite dish when he grabs something from the fridge. He finds pretty jewelry and perfume at the place of the target he just killed so he takes it and brings it to Shiu's place because he knows he finished Shiu's expensive shampoo the week prior. He buys something (food, clothes, keychain, some pretty decoration) with the money from a job he took and then "forgets" it at Shiu's place, and never asks for it back.

Toji doesn't like alcohol, but whenever they eat together he takes a bottle of wine out of Shiu's cellar to put it on the table, because he knows Shiu likes his breaded pork with some Merlot. And when Shiu looks like he had a rough day, Toji looks for some whiskey or soju and pretends he wants to drink something awful to go with the mood, but in the end he's just giving his glass to Shiu.

Toji is very soft after sex, he is actually a sweetheart once his desires are satisfied. He strokes Shiu's face and let his fingers runs slowly against his spine and smiles so lovely when he feels the body shivers against him. He asks Shiu if he's fine, if he wants to shower now or later, if he needs a drink or anything. And if Toji topped, he carries Shiu to the shower and helps him get clean, then carries him outside the bathroom to the bed, and he cuddles against the man until they both fall asleep. If Toji was the bottom, he would lean towards Shiu's touch and breathe deeply against his skin. He would leave little kisses on Shui's shoulder, neck, and cheeks, and he'd hum softly when his man slid a hand in his hair.

Toji knows his boyfriend is tense whenever he has to deal with some clients, and he knows Shiu is worried after a big job. Because people in the underworld aren't clean, and because the man gets people killed for a living, and they both know the risks. It happened before, it can and will happen again. Sometimes the family of a target tries to reach for him and take revenge. Sometimes a contractor betrays the engagement and tries to put Shiu to silence. And sometimes, Shiu is simply very tired to negotiate with rich assholes. He doesn't sleep well when this happens. So Toji rolls in the bed and spoons him, and kisses the back of his neck or head and says it's fine. He feels Shiu relax a bit in his arms, so he kisses him again and holds him closer.

Toji isn't a coffee drinker, even though he can occasionally enjoy a cup. But when Shiu spends the entire day in his office, answering calls and writing emails, not taking time for lunch and looking physically and mentally exhausted, Toji turns on the coffee machine and brings his man a cup, shuffles his hair, and teases him about the face he's making. Sometimes it convinces Shiu to give up and take a break, other times it lightens him enough to endure the work a bit longer.

Toji is an addicted gambler, but he decided early in the relationship that he would never use Shiu's money for his bets.

There are plenty of things that Toji isn't. First of all, he's not a sorcerer. It doesn't stop him from killing them, or anyone trying to hurt Shiu. There are also plenty of things that Toji is, and very few are positive. But for sure, Toji is a man in love, and the words never leave his mouth, but his kisses and his fingers and his eyes scream them as loud as they can every day. And it's enough for Shiu. It's plenty of enough.

[humiliatingsluts2]

Daily Denial

I wake up early because the first thing I have to do is edge for fifteen minutes. While I’m still half asleep I slip my hand between my legs and find my cunt already dripping. I know my body is conditioned to expect my morning edge, and I’ve noticed every morning now I wake up needier and wetter.

I glance at the clock and confirm how long I’ll be edging: from now until 8:10am. I can’t avoid a small whimper escaping my lips as I rub. I let my hips gently move to grind against my fingers and I already feel myself reaching the edge. The pressure and sensation builds with each touch and I start panting softly. I start rubbing and humping harder. I can feel my wetness dripping down onto my thighs. I need to cum so badly, but I know I can’t.

In desperation for more relief, I finger my cunt instead of rubbing my clit. I need to feel full and I start fucking myself with my fingers. Instead of the immediate desperation to tip over into orgasm from rubbing my clit, I start to feel the familiar ache of denial building. I glance over at the clock. It’s already 8:08am. I shut my eyes and focus entirely on my cunt. I keep fingering and humping my hand until I’m almost certain two minutes are complete and check again: 8:11am.

Despite how hard edging is, I don’t want to stop. But I know my duties. I take my hand from between my legs. I’m embarrassed to see it covered in my wetness; my fingers are soaked. I suck them clean. Ever since my owner started forcing me to clean up after myself, this is the first thing I taste each morning.

I get out of bed and go make my breakfast. I flip open my laptop and bring up porn. I don’t get to choose the porn, I watch what my owner has sent me while I eat. Today he picked a video of a girl tied to a park bench and being fucked by several men. I feel my cunt throbbing while I finish my breakfast. The sounds of the pornstar gagging on cock fills my kitchen and I already know I’m going to need to edge again this morning. I message my owner, “Morning Sir. Please may I edge some more? This porn is so hot.” He replies a few moments later,

“Good morning slut. You may edge, but you’re going to be your own porn. Edge in front of your mirror and film it all. Watch how desperate you are.” I’m grateful for permission to edge, even though I desperately want to watch this pornstar get gangbanged for longer.

“What should I wear Sir?”

“Only heels.”

“Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.”

The moment I finish breakfast, I go back to the bedroom, strip, and kneel in front of my full length mirror. I realise in shame that I wasn’t even told to kneel, I just knew I belonged there. I take my heels from under my bed, and feel even more shame at realising these pink heels had only ever been worn for edging. I put them on and prop my phone up on the floor. I angle the camera to picture my entire body and face. I know what Sir will want. Even seeing myself in the camera viewfinder is making my cunt wet again. My naked body and throbbing cunt look like porn already.

I take my vibrator from beside the bed and press record. I start watching myself in the mirror instead. I can already see how horny I am: my face is flushed and as I turn the vibrator on I open my mouth and start to moan. Immediately I’m on the edge. I press the vibrator on my cunt and watch my body respond. I feel the need to cum already. My body shakes as I reach the edge. I lock eyes with myself in the mirror and turn the vibrator up. The desperation to edge is overwhelming, and I feel tears pricking my eyes. I know I need to edge hard. I know I need to cum. I know I need to do as I’m told. Every muscle in my body is tensed as I see how far I can push myself. I hear myself moan. I feel my cunt contract and tense as I get closer. I tear the vibrator away and fall forward onto my hands and knees. I won’t cum.

My breathing is heavy while I recover. I gently stroke my cunt to feel how sensitive I’ve become already. I take the vibrator and lick it. I’m becoming addicted to the taste of my own edging. I glance at the camera and think about my owner watching. I smile and start licking the vibrator enthusiastically. I picture sucking my owner’s cock while I edge and before I know it I’ve started edging harder again. I put the tip of the vibrator in my mouth and start sucking it slowly while I edge. I always think I look my best with something in my mouth.

I decide to edge hard one more time and then send the video to Sir. I start slowly trying to deepthroat the toy, I want to get some drool on my tits too. I keep watching myself. I focus on my cunt and how wet it is. I can see it dripping from my fingers, and I rub my clit harder. I need to cum. I need it so badly. For a second, I almost consider doing it, without permission. I don’t know how I’d be punished, but it feels worth it. The relief would be so much. I feel myself get closer and closer. I picture cumming, I picture how it will feel. And I stop. I won’t cum without permission. I can’t.

I lick my fingers clean and stop recording on my phone. I immediately send the video to my owner. It’s over half an hour long. I finish cleaning up and wait on the floor naked for him to respond. The feeling of being such a good edgeslut is so comforting and my body is glowing with pleasure.

—

Follow me for new writing every Friday.

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] Loyalty Rewards Program

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: E Word Count: 9204 Tags: Human AU, Mechanic Hob, Rich Guy Dream, top Hob, bottom Dream, Dream of the Endless is a Horny Little Weasel, class dynamics, as a kink perhaps, Dream of the Endless is intense and unhinged, Hob matches his freak, Bossy Dream, Agreeable Hob, Service Top Hob Gadling, Enthusiatic Bottom Dream, Dream is Not Quiet in bed, there is a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet at one point, blatant disregard for typical human refractory periods, rimming, anal sex, felching-adjacent, inconsequential ingestion of lube, effusive endearments, dirty talk, overstimulation, anal fingering, help my hookup is growing feelings

Notes: Third in the Turbo Lover series (Customer Service and Every Nerve Alive on Tumblr, if AO3 is down). This one happened because Dream was insistent on getting properly fucked in the garage and I refuse to be the author who uses engine grease or motor oil for lube. This fills the free space (B2) on my @dreamlingbingo card, and is also the longest Sandman fic I've written to date.

Summary: Dream comes back to Matthew's Motor Repairs the next day and Hob gives him everything he asks for

On AO3 Hob re-locks the door as soon as he's ducked inside the shop the next morning; he's not opening for people today.

He has other obligations, after all.

He first makes a thorough job of cleaning and sweeping the floor around the Porsche. Whatever the plan today entails, he doesn't want to wind up kneeling on a bit of gravel or taking a stray hex nut to the arse cheek while he's fucking his rich admirer. Granted he may need to do a quick spot-sweep when Dream shows up—if Dream shows up—since he'll be working on the car in the meantime, but doing it now will make that faster.

…Of course Dream's going to show up, Hob's not worried. Guy was thirsty as fuck yesterday, he'll be back. He's got a car to pick up, after all, and speaking of, Hob had best make sure it's ready.

He strips out of his clothes and dons his coveralls nude, leaves them unzipped to the waist, not even bothering to keep his underwear today. It's cooler than yesterday but still plenty warm, and this will make things faster once Dream shows up. He's pretty sure Dream will appreciate the aesthetic, also.

Hob whistles to himself working under Dream's Porsche, finishing up the clutch replacement that he hadn't quite been able to focus on after Dream left yesterday. It's quick work to wrap it up and he makes sure to let grease smears accumulate on his arms and maybe he deliberately puts a couple of artistically-placed smudges on his chest, for fun.

With the clutch done, he moves on to changing the oil, flushing and refilling the other fluids, and giving the car a general tuneup. The Porsche is a beautiful machine and Hob's thrilled to have the chance to work on her.

He's thrilled to have the chance to work on her owner, too.

When the shop bell rings, Hob's heart leaps. He's just got the car all closed up and down from the ramps and done another quick sweep so assuming that's Dream, and it should be, his timing is perfect. He winds his way to the front, zipping up his coveralls just in case and opening the door.

Dream is there on the other side, as breathtakingly gorgeous as Hob remembers. "Am I the 'special circumstances'?" he asks, coy and smouldering as he taps the handwritten sign Hob had pasted in the window—Closed for walk-ins due to special circumstances; ring if you have an appointment.

"The specialist of circumstances," Hob agrees, effervescent joy and lust bubbling up inside him, spilling into his smile. "Closed up so I'm all yours. Entirely at your service."

"Wonderful," Dream purrs, stepping through the door. "For I am desperately in need of the services of a good mechanic."

Hob pulls the door closed after him, ensures it's latched in and that it's still locked, then turns with a grin. "You've come to the right place then, love. I'm at your disposal, one hundred percent, and I will personally see to your complete satisfaction. Guaranteed." He winks.

Dream steps in closer, tilts his head just enough to gaze up heatedly from beneath his lashes, toys with the tab of the zipper at Hob's collarbone. "Do you offer such comprehensive personal service to all your customers?" He's slowly drawing the zip down as he speaks.

Hob's heartrate picks up and his breath goes a bit short. "Oh no, this comes special with our uh, our loyalty rewards program," he manages, with his best charm-the-customer smile. The dainty fingertips unzipping his coveralls are very distracting.

Dream stops once he's exposed Hob's chest hair, rakes his nails through it lightly, skirting the grease smeared above it. "But this is the first time I have brought my patronage to your shop," he counters, with the prettiest little pout.

Hob shakes his head. "See I count twice; you tried out my services yesterday and found them satisfactory enough to come back today. And I'm very sure, if I meet your exacting standards, I can earn your repeat business. So I'll opt you in, because I have that much confidence in the quality of my work."

He's mixing his references clumsily, the car repairs and the sex getting muddled together, but Dream is smiling all the same. "Let us hope your confidence is not misplaced, then," he says, voice dipping lower in that way that makes Hob's stomach tighten delightfully. "I should hate to be granted such privilege unduly."

With that, Dream draws the zipper down more, then turns and steps away, casting a come-hither glance over his shoulder as he sashays toward the door into the garage. Hob, unzipped to the waist and hard already, is hot to follow, but first—

He tears the sign from the window, hangs the normal 'Closed' sign in its place, double-checks the lock and throws the deadbolt for good measure. He rounds the reception desk and logs into the phone system, makes sure the auto-answer is set to the 'closed unexpectedly' option, and sets the ringer to after-hours so it'll go straight to messages instead of ringing through. Not that he'd be stopping in the middle of whatever they're about to be doing to answer the phone, but this way they're guaranteed no distractions, no interruptions. Then he hurries after Dream.

Dream is completely naked when he gets back to the garage, leaning pale and pretty and barefoot against the side of his Porsche with his arms loosely folded and his cock hanging ready, half-hard, beautiful.

"Well hello, gorgeous," Hob says, unabashedly enthusiastic as he approaches, wondering if he's meant to just dive in or wait for a cue, if he's allowed to pull Dream into his arms and start with a kiss. His gaze falls to the delicate arches of Dream's feet, the soft pale curves of his toes (with black-painted nails!), and he's really glad he swept up first.

"You occupy my thoughts incessantly, Hob Gadling," Dream says, pushing off the car and stepping close to Hob again, hands reaching to toy with the open edges of his coveralls.

"Do I, now?" Hob decides on a caution-to-the-wind approach and snakes an arm around Dream's waist, raises a dirt-stained thumb to brush over his cheek. Dream hadn't hesitated yesterday to say what he did and didn't want; Hob will trust him to do the same today. "They're good thoughts, I hope?"

"Very," Dream breathes, gripping the coveralls, tugging marginally; his eyes are dark, his pale cheeks faintly flushed with excitement, his pretty pink lips slightly parted, and Hob sees no reason to resist the temptation presented.

The noise Dream makes when Hob kisses him is soft, eager, encouraging, and Hob presses closer, lets both hands play over Dream's bare skin, up and down his spine. Dream is kissing back, heated and insistent; he slips both hands inside Hob's coveralls, around his waist and down to grasp his arse cheeks, squeeze appreciatively, pull him closer.

Hob breaks away with a gasp, delighted and impossibly turned on; Dream squeezes again, nips at the scruff on his chin. "You are not wearing any underwear today, Hob," he murmurs, in a tone of pleased discovery, and Hob can't help grinning.

"Thought you might appreciate it," he says, breathless, hands stroking up and down Dream's biceps, leaving faint smudges behind. "Makes things a bit faster, easier—"

"And are you easy, Hob Gadling?"

"Only for you," he answers, which is truer than it would have been two weeks ago. "God, you smell good today—" He really does, floral-herbal freshness wafting from his hair, faint notes of soap and a light cologne lingering on his skin; Hob lets instinct shape his words. "So clean and pretty, too; come down to the garage to get properly dirty, have we?"

The way Dream shivers against him tells him that was indeed the right thing to say.

"Perhaps," Dream replies, and squeezes Hob's arse again. "I very much appreciate your wardrobe choices, in that regard." He brings his hands around front, one dipping to cup Hob's dick while the other draws the zipper all the way down underneath.

"Thought you might," Hob manages, while Dream's slender fingertips touch his balls, stroke with gentle pressure, and then Dream is moving, grasping at the shoulders of Hob's coveralls and pushing them off.

"I would feel you, bare, against me," is what he says, which sounds like a fine idea to Hob. He struggles briefly with the rolled-up sleeves but as soon as his arms are free Dream is in them, pressing up against him, kissing him fiercely and completely derailing any attempt at getting the coveralls all the way off.

Fuck it, Hob decides, letting them just fall around his legs as he wraps Dream close and kisses him back, hungry and insistent to match Dream's fervor. He backs him up a step, two, until Dream's narrow arse hits the Porsche again and he squirms prettily, his cock nudging up against Hob's as they break the kiss, panting.

"Over the bonnet then, love?"

Dream shakes his head, an effortlessly imperious little gesture. "I wish to ride you, first." He gestures to the creeper. "Please."

Clearly, clearly Dream's got some very specific fantasies about cars and mechanics and Hob is delighted that he gets to help make them happen. "Absolutely," he grins, shuffling down into position on the board.

Dream grabs a condom and a bottle of lube from where he'd stashed them between the windscreen and the bonnet and drops next to Hob. Which is just as well since Hob's supplies are with his clothes in the locker on the other side of the garage; he leans back on his elbows as Dream tears open the condom and rolls it onto him.

"You've got such pretty hands," he breathes, shivering at the glide of Dream's touch along his shaft, and doesn't miss the breath Dream sucks in at the compliment. "Gonna show me how you use those fingers to open yourself up? Or do I get to do that for you, hm?"

"Neither," Dream answers, rising and turning to lean over the side of the bonnet, which confuses Hob for half a second until he speaks again.

"Spread me open," he directs, and Hob is only to happy to sit up and comply, to see the greasy smudge of his fingerprints smeared on Dream's lily-white arse—

Dream is wearing a plug.

Hob's libido, already cranked to eleven, ratchets up another notch. "Oh, fuck," he breathes reverently, wide-eyed. Dream had put that in at home, had come here sitting on it, walking with it inside him, just to be ready for Hob's cock?

Christ, but that's hot.

He watches raptly as Dream's slender fingers grip the wide base and start pulling; he takes his time and Hob gets to just hold him open and watch as Dream's hole slowly stretches around the flare of the thing, bigger and bigger until it finally passes the widest point and slides the rest of the way free, and the hungry little sound of relief Dream makes as it comes out makes Hob's dick ache.

He desperately wants to slip his tongue in there, wriggle it into the shrinking gape and let Dream's body close to grip snugly around him, but Dream is a man on a mission, and that mission is getting Hob's prick inside him. He straightens up, turns and straddles Hob, fingertips to Hob's chest pressing him down as Dream squats over his lap. He drops the plug aside, reaches behind to take Hob's slicked-up rubber-wrapped cock and guide it into his body as he comes down, and the sound he makes plus the tight warm sheath of his arse have Hob absolutely riveted.

Dream lifts himself, thighs straining and hand firmly on Hob's chest now, fucks himself up and down on Hob's prick while hovering over it, letting out the most decadent moans each time he sinks onto it. He'd said he wanted to ride Hob but he's only made it as far as squatting, like he's so desperate for Hob's cock he can't even wait to get all the way into proper position for it and Hob (and his dick) definitely feel some kind of way about it. Dream's own prick bobs stiff and eager in front of him, a little drop of fluid glistening at the tip already, and Hob almost wishes he was enough of a contortionist to get it in his mouth. Later, perhaps. Right now he's got this gorgeous creature pistoning eagerly on his cock and well on his way to losing his mind, from the sound of it.

Hob spreads both hands over the tops of Dream's thighs, feeling how they tremble with exertion, and finally draws them down, forward, coaxing Dream out of his squat and into a proper kneeling position. He shifts his grip to Dream's hips and pulls him onto his cock at the same time, all the way down until he's buried deep up inside and Dream is panting the breathiest little 'yes, yes, yes's as he bottoms out, eyes wide and glazed. His hand is still planted on Hob's chest and Hob takes it up carefully, draws it to his mouth and kisses Dream's fingertips; Dream whines, gaze sharpening and honing in on Hob's actions. Hob's lips brush the pads of those fingers as he speaks.

"Did you still want to ride me, darling? Or should I hold you still and start fucking up into that pretty little hole?"

Dream shivers, makes another needy little noise and draws himself up on Hob's cock, sinks back down, does it again, and again, faster, harder, until he's panting breathless moans on every pass. His hands are planted on Hob's chest, up near his shoulders next to the grease smeared beneath his collarbone, and Hob rests his hands at Dream's hips, ready to take up the slack if he's needed.

Dream rides like a pro, to be honest, finding his rhythm and moving steadily in pursuit of his pleasure. His arse is snug and hot and slick, his voice like a song as he glides so easily up and down on Hob's prick; he feels amazing, and Hob has to remind himself to breathe as it goes on and on, to keep a rein on his own pleasure until Dream's gotten everything he needs.

At last Dream's pace begins to falter, his panting moans stuttering into broken little whimpers as he flags in his feverish bouncing. "Hob," he whines, arse wriggling lower, his fingers clutching at Hob's chest hair. "You feel. So good, inside me—"

"Do I?" Hob breathes, fingertips brushing over Dream's flanks, and it's weak, so weak as far as dirty talk goes but he can't help it. He's enamoured, struck senseless by how into this Dream is, and words are failing him.

"Yes—" Dream squirms forward and back, circles his hips beneath Hob's attentive grease-stained hands, moans prettily. "Hob, please—"

He doesn't even have to specify, it's clear enough what he's after now, and Hob moves to grip him properly, to lift him just slightly. He clutches tight, fingertips digging in to what little meat there is on Dream's arse, plants his boots on the concrete floor and thrusts up into him.

Dream cries out, clenches his fists on Hob's shoulders and throws his head back, chest heaving. Hob draws out and thrusts again, full force, and again, and Dream shudders, gasping, delighted. "Hob—yes—yes—" He squeezes tight around Hob's prick and groans, drops his head to meet Hob's gaze with fever-bright eyes. "Fuck me—I want—"

"Tell me," Hob breathes, mesmerized, shifting his feet for better leverage and thrusting into him again, and Dream warbles beautifully.

"Faster. Deeper—as hard and as deep as you can, Hob—!"

"'Course, love," Hob gasps, hips moving to comply with barely a thought, and Dream's voice rises into a long keening wail as Hob gives him precisely what he's asked for.

"Yes—yes—yes—!" He tosses his head back again, the arch of his throat working beautifully as he chokes out 'yes' after 'yes', arms stiff and trembling, hands still braced tight on Hob's shoulders.

Hob grunts with exertion, pounding up into Dream with everything he's got, thighs damp and sticking slightly where they press against Dream's. He's transfixed by the rapture in Dream's face, the sheen of sweat on his neck and chest, the stream of noises coming out of his pretty mouth; he looks and sounds like having Hob's cock in him is the best thing ever, like it's everything he wanted, and Hob is fast falling in love with how expressive he is about sex.

Dangerous thoughts, those; he puts them far away, concentrates on pumping hard and fast and deep up into Dream's lovely arse to make him come. He's careful still not to come himself; Dream has clearly got plans and it's his job to stay hard as long as Dream needs his cock.

"Hob—Hob—ahh, don't stop, Hob—!"

Hob squeezes Dream's arse, spreading his cheeks just a tiny bit more, and shifts the tempo down slightly, fucks up into him long and smooth, deep, steady. Dream wails, lost in the pleasure of it, and droops suddenly to lay over Hob's chest, a graceful fall into an open kiss interspersed with Dream's panting and whimpering. Hob shifts his hips to accommodate the changed angle and Dream sobs into his mouth, needy, desperate. His prick is nestled against Hob's belly, wet at the tip, hot and hard and Dream is moving helplessly as Hob fucks him, rutting through the hair on Hob's stomach in little jerks. He's tense in Hob's arms, trembling, skin damp with sweat all over and Hob thinks he could do this forever if he had to, fucking this gorgeous creature curled atop him but he doesn't have to, he knows, he can tell, Dream is nearly there—

Dream goes rigid abruptly, breath choking in his throat as his mouth opens wider, still meshed to Hob's. A high thin sound trickles out of his throat and Hob laps it up, fucks into him once, twice, again, and then Dream convulses with a wail, wet warmth blooming on Hob's belly. He buries himself as deep into Dream as he can and holds it there, flexes against the rhythmic clutching of Dream's arse around him, kisses Dream through the tremors and pulses of orgasm until he goes limp.

He spends a moment petting up and down Dream's spine then while Dream lies boneless atop him, catching his breath. He's still warm and tight around Hob's dick, perfect and tempting and—

And heavier than he looks, honestly; Hob shifts to take him by the shoulders, lifts him off his chest just a bit. Dream takes the cue, raises himself somewhat, blinks the haze from his eyes as he meets Hob's. The smile on his lips quickly sharpens to something simmering with heat, but Hob saw. He saw that glimpse of softness, the glow of bliss on Dream's face and he feels the way his heart trips, knows he's losing his battle.

There's a faint smudge of grease on Dream's forehead that probably came from Hob's collarbone and his dick twitches to see it. Dream shivers and squeezes around him and Hob sighs, a full and happy sound.

"You're pretty when you come," he says, gathering his wits about him again. He smears his hand through the mess on his stomach, picks up a little grease from just beside it, reaches to cradle Dream's face. "So, so pretty." He strokes his fingers back through Dream's hair, leaving a faint black smudge and sticky colorless smears on his cheekbone and more than a trace of filth in his hair.

"Only when I come?" It's a tease, accompanied by a gentle squeeze around him, and Hob shivers.

"'Course not," he murmurs, flexing his dick in response, delighted by the shiver that runs through Dream in turn. "You're pretty when you're bouncing on my cock, too. And when you tell me what you want me to do to you. And yesterday." He flexes again, warming to the topic. "You looked so pretty yesterday, with grease smeared on your face and my prick in your mouth."

Dream makes a pleased sound, squeezes his arse around Hob again, and Hob is more than ready to carry on, if Dream is. He strokes his thumb over the tacky mess on Dream's cheek. "Can I dirty you up some more, beautiful? Make you come for me again?"

"I should be very disappointed if you did not, Hob Gadling," Dream purrs, and there's that imperious little smirk again, the one Hob is already too attached to.

He'll give this man whatever he wants, and love every second of it.

"What next, then, sweetheart?" He's slowly pulsing up into Dream now in unhurried rhythm, too leisurely to be called fucking but ready to pick up the pace in a heartbeat. "Keep going like this?" The creeper is getting a bit uncomfortable, truth be told, and he wouldn't mind getting up off the floor but if Dream's not done yet he'll tough it out.

"No." Thankfully Dream sits all the way up, wriggles deliciously on Hob's cock, bottomed out and heavy-eyed with the pleasure of having it so deep inside him. "Next, I would have you—ahh—" He squirms, back arching, mouth falling open as Hob gives in to the temptation of dragging the rough grease-stained pad of his thumb over one pristine petal pink nipple. "Bend—bend me over the bonnet. Fuck me until I scream—Hob—!" He's panting as Hob caresses the tender little bud of flesh, writhing as if he could take Hob any deeper.

Hob shivers. "Fuck. Alright. As you wish, you precious beautiful man—" He lifts Dream's hips, lifts Dream off his cock as he sits up, then wraps one arm under Dream's narrow arse and heaves them both up with a grunt of exertion, his other hand braced on the car for support. It's awkward as fuck with his coveralls still wadded about his ankles and he can tell already his back and thighs are going to hate him for it tomorrow, but it's entirely worth it for the arousal that flares in Dream's widened eyes, the way he clings and wraps his legs around Hob, the way he surges in to kiss Hob again.

Hob shuffles round the front of the car using his one hand for guidance while Dream devours his mouth, and carefully lowers Dream onto the bonnet. He knows it's not the position Dream was looking for but he can't help slipping his cock back into him like this, when Dream is still wrapped around him and ripe for the plowing.

Dream breaks the kiss with a reedy little whining noise as Hob nudges inside him and sinks deep; he claws at Hob's shoulders and draws his legs back, open and practically begging and alright, okay, Hob can give him a good minute like this first, fucks into him in soft smooth rhythm. Dream's pretty pink cock is stiffening up again already, laying thick and half-filled against his belly and jolting with every thrust; he's panting open-mouthed, the sweetest little sounds falling out of him each time Hob pushes in.

"You're gorgeous like this too," Hob gets out, needing the talk to divide his focus, to keep himself going without risk of finishing. "So eager, so open, so fuckable—" Dream shudders, biting off a deep whine at the word, leaned back and still hanging onto Hob's shoulders for support, feet braced on his hips, and Hob zeroes in on his advantage. "Has no one ever called you that before, sweetheart? Fuckable?"

"None I would care to hear it from," Dream moans, pulling himself up closer, disrupting Hob's rhythm. "But. From your lips. It sounds like a benediction—" He kisses Hob, tongue plunging into his mouth, arms wrapping tight behind Hob's neck. His legs shift also, wrapping back around Hob's waist and he pulls himself close, up off the car as Hob gets his arms quickly underneath to support him.

"Give a bloke an ego, talking like that," he gasps, when Dream lets him up for air.

"It's well-deserved," Dream counters, nipping at his lower lip and shifting his weight so that Hob steps back to keep them balanced. "You are exquisite, and talented with your dick, and I wish to be so deeply and thoroughly fucked over my car that I will still feel you inside me tomorrow." He plunges his tongue back into Hob's mouth and unlocks his legs from around him, lets Hob set him back on his feet.

"Do you need a refresh on your lube first?" Hob gasps, mindful of what they've already done and what Dream still wants from him and the serviceable life of water-based lube.

Dream pauses, considering. "Perhaps," he says, with the restlessness of someone eager to get back into action but recognizing the wisdom of the question regardless.

Hob leans around him and reaches, snags the lube off the bonnet. "Let me slick you up a bit more just to be safe." He glances at his hands, perpetually stained and still dirty enough to leave smudges on Dream's skin. "Or you can, since your hands are cleaner?"

"Yes," Dream agrees, taking the bottle and squirting some out. He reaches behind himself and Hob gets to watch his face flicker through half a dozen little expressions; he's clearly moving for function over pleasure but there's enjoyment to be had all the same, from the look of it.

"There." Dream straightens as he finishes, eyes Hob with new heat in his gaze. "Are you clean."

"What?"

Dream narrows his eyes, clearly conveying both horniness and impatience in equal measure. "I am clean; I test regularly. I want your come inside me. Are. You. Clean."

Hob's libido flares, wildly. "Yes. Fuck. Yes, okay." Caution to the wind, and all that.

Dream reaches down and removes Hob's condom, drops it aside and picks up the lube again. He slicks up Hob's cock, kisses him fiercely while doing so, then turns and drapes himself over the bonnet of his Porsche and lifts up on his toes, arse presented. "Fuck me," he demands over his shoulder, breathless and eager like he hadn't just come bouncing on Hob's cock not ten minutes ago. Insatiable. "Hold me down with your work-dirtied hands and fuck me—"

Hob doesn't need to be told twice. He lines up and pushes in, bare slick and easy, all the way to the hilt. Dream makes the most appreciative and desperate little moan, wriggling backwards; Hob grabs his hip with one grease-stained hand, plants his other in the middle of Dream's narrow back and fucks.

Dream cries out, high gasping breaths punched from his lungs with every thrust and Hob just revels in it, moving in sure and steady rhythm. It's easy, so easy, smooth and slick and so good, and Dream's enthusiastic response is—it's heady, to have someone react to him this way, to want him this much, and he'll do everything he can to give Dream what he wants, to make it worth it. It's no hardship, far from it.

"Your arse is so hot," Hob pants, "so tight, absolutely perfect. Can't believe you wore that glass plug here so you'd be ready to get plowed." He grinds his hips deep in emphasis, draws out a little and relishes the way Dream whimpers when he slams back in. "Sweet of you, though. Did it turn you on, sitting on it in the cab? Feeling it move inside you when you walked? Were you horny and eager the whole way here, darling, stuffed full with your toy and imagining my prick in its place?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Dream cries, as much an answer as it is interjection. He's thrusting backward as best he can in Hob's hold, eager and desperate, and Hob keeps fucking, keeps talking.

"I loved watching you take it out. Your beautiful hole stretching bigger and bigger around it, how open you were after. Wanted to stick my tongue in there, sweetheart, wanted to eat you out, make you squirm."

Dream is gasping, wailing, trembling where Hob pins him to the car, head tossing, breath heaving under Hob's steady hand. His cock is surely leaking a mess all over the bonnet; Hob'll have to clean it for him again when they're done.

"You've got the prettiest little hole I've ever seen," Hob continues, steady and unflagging in his rhythm. He leans back, drags both hands to Dream's arse cheeks and squeezes, spreads them so he can easily see himself sinking in, his naked prick pushing and pulling at the puffy pink rim of Dream's hole again and again. He slows, savoring the sight, and Dream whines, clenches around him as he presses back in. "Absolutely beautiful," Hob breathes, thumb moving to stroke over the delicate skin stretched tight around the girth of his prick. "Exquisite. I'm so lucky I get to ravish it."

He knows on one hand he sounds ridiculous as he picks up the pace again, but on the other it's doing the trick on both counts—distracting him from his own pleasure to draw it out, and driving Dream higher at the same time.

And Dream is absolutely being driven to the heights of pleasured madness, that much is clear. He's writhing on the bonnet under Hob's steady pounding, fingers clutching futilely at the glossy surface, skin flushed and sweat-damp and sticking to the car, ribs heaving. And the sounds coming out of his mouth? Good god, he's noisy, so fucking loud and it's not like Hob doesn't love it, not like there's anyone around to hear or any other reason to hold back. It does great things for his ego, the way Dream's wailing like he's never been railed this good in his life, but Hob's got an idea and his instincts say it's spot-on, so he goes for it.

He claps his hand—still grimy from the tune-up, still a little tacky with Dream's come—he claps it gently over Dream's mouth, stifling his volume, and Dream jolts, then goes wild. His head goes all the way back, giving Hob easier coverage; his breath comes short and sharp through his nose, faster and faster in time with his cries that go higher and shriller, muffled by Hob's not-exactly-clean hand. His body has gone tense, trembling, hips thrusting back against Hob's with mounting desperation and god, but Hob is in love. "That's it, sweetheart, come for me again," he murmurs breathlessly, bending close to Dream's ear and the dried mess on his cheek and squeezing his hip, flexing the hand that covers his mouth. "Take your fill of my cock, shoot your load all over your car—I'll clean it again for you, don't worry—"

Dream stills abruptly, shaking, voice a strangled muffled shriek as he comes; Hob thrusts deep into his pulsing clenching arse and holds, intending to let Dream ride out his orgasm. But Dream wriggles, wrenches his head free of Hob's hand, gasping.

"Move—don't stop—"

So Hob moves.

He straightens up and sets both hands back on Dream's hips, fucks eagerly into him, quickly re-establishing his rhythm and speeding up. "Good?" he grunts, sweat dripping down his temple, and Dream warbles out an affirmative.

"Harder—Hob—use me, claim me, fill me—!" His voice shakes; his hands are spasming against the bonnet, his arms trembling, and his arse is so tight and slick and hot, clenches so beautifully around him, Hob isn't going to last but another moment.

"Use your pretty little hole for my own pleasure?" he gets out, pounding into it now with everything he's got, spiraling up to the horizon, and Dream sobs.

"Yes, Hob, yes—!"

"Claim it for myself?" Hob gasps, grinding deep, slamming into him again and again. "Fill you up with my come—ahh—here it is—Dream!"

Dream wails, and Hob comes, gasping, grunting, the euphoria sweeping through his veins in a warm rush. His hips jerk involuntarily, shoving deep, emptying himself thoroughly into Dream's clutching arse.

"Fuck," he pants, pulse pounding in his ears, "oh, fuck—"

It's good, so damn good, feels like it goes on forever, everything in his body alight with pleasure and pouring out through his dick, until at long last it subsides and he collapses, barely catching himself before he crushes Dream. He takes a minute, just panting above him, and then pulls out carefully—still wet and messy, regardless—with a groan. Dream whimpers, a sound of abject loss, but does not move from where he has gone limp on the car.

Hob turns carefully to perch beside him, resting his arse on the bonnet, catching his breath.

"Alright there, Dream?" he asks, after a moment.

"Mmh," is the only reply, and Hob takes a moment to just look at him, gaze sweeping over the lines of his body and the grey-black smudges he himself has left on that pristine pale skin. He lingers over the curves (such as they are) of Dream's arse, leans far enough to see where there's a mess of lube and semen dribbling down Dream's perineum to his balls, a glistening runnel of it trickling down his inner thigh—Hob shivers, arousal sparking despite the remains of orgasm still simmering in his blood.

"Christ, you look beautiful like this," he can't help saying. "Fucked out across the bonnet of your Porsche with your legs spread, and my come dripping out of your arse…"

"Silver tongue." Dream does not move from where he sprawls, languid and heavy-lidded, spread-eagled on the car, even as Hob levers himself up, moves to stand behind Dream again.

"Mmyes, that's right. Said something about having a use in mind for it, didn't you?"

"Perhaps."

"'Perhaps' he says," Hob drawls, grinning, but the idea's back in his head now and oh, he would like to get his tongue in Dream's arse, lube or no lube. He saw the bottle, it's water-based, it's not going to kill him to lick a bit of it up. "Why don't you tell me if this is what you had in mind, then."

He drops into a squat and flicks the tip of his tongue around the puffy rim of Dream's messy and very-pink hole, circling it with a light touch, and the sound that Dream makes is nothing but encouraging. His own come is no particular delicacy but just like the lube, he doesn't mind that he's getting a taste in the course of eating out this beautiful man. Dream's hole is swollen with use and sensitive and Hob kisses it softly, wets his tongue and wriggles it in, gently at first with slurping licks in between but with increasing enthusiasm until Dream is squirming against his face and he's as deep as he can get, grease-stained hands gripping those milk-white cheeks and spreading them wide.

The keening noise Dream makes urges him on and he delves back in again and again, breathless and eager, feasting until his face is sticky and his jaw aches. Finally he draws back, panting, senses filled with the smell and the taste of this man and still, Dream remains insatiable.

"More. Hob, I want more, do not send me on my way so unsated—"

He has come twice, surely he is not sincere when he says 'unsated', and yet. Here he is, pleading for more, as needy and eager as he's been the whole time. And god, but Hob wants to give him everything, is itching to finger him out but he's not doing that when his hands are still dirty, he's just not. Nor is he going to make Dream wait while he scrubs down with the Swarfega. He casts about, thinking, tongue lapping soothingly around Dream's sloppy hole all the while; there's the plug Dream was wearing but it's been sitting on the shop floor so no; it's shaped for stretching more than fucking anyway. His fingers really would be best—

"Did you bring more than just the one condom?"

"Mmh?" Dream sounds keyed up and hazy, blissed out on the attentions of Hob's tongue and Hob smiles, plants a kiss over his hole.

"Condoms, love. Have you got another?"

"Yes. Trouser pocket—"

"And where did your trousers escape to?" He kisses again, flicks his fatigued tongue inside in a teasing lick.

"Front seat." Dream wriggles, needy, restless and wanting.

"Brilliant. Hang on, got an idea—" He scrambles up and around and finds the clothes rumpled in the Porsche's driver seat, rifles through the pockets for the promised condom and tears it open, slips it over his first two fingers as he shuffles round the front of the car again, coveralls still tangled in his boots. Dream is a vision sprawled face down and spread-legged on the bonnet, eyes tracking Hob's return, and Hob won't leave him waiting another instant.

"Here we are," he murmurs, condom-clad fingers sliding down the cleft of Dream's grease-smudged arse and slipping deftly into his hole still slick with lube and Hob's jizz, Hob's spit. Hob pushes deep, curves his touch down and massages, and Dream cries out, going rigid.

Grinning, Hob leans over the bonnet beside him, fingers working deep and steady, and watches Dream's prettily-dirtied face as he comes apart. He's mewling, eyes wide, mouth open and gasping; he's come twice already and his insides are swollen and sensitive, his pleasure easy to stoke to trembling heights. Hob shifts briefly to drizzle more lube in for good measure and then gives him no quarter, fingers steady and relentless in their attentions until Dream is shaking, sobbing, tears leaking from his eyes and saliva drooling from the corner of his mouth. He pushes up on trembling arms, collapses back to his elbows, head hanging low between his shoulders. "Hob—aah—Hob, please!" It's unclear if he's begging for more or begging for mercy, but the way he flexes up on his toes and pushes back on Hob's hand is telling enough.

"Shh," Hob soothes, leaning close enough to brush his mouth across Dream's bicep in an open kiss, and then, because he can't help being just a touch evil: "Do you want to come again? Or did you need me to stop?"

"Do not stop," he manages, and it is very much an order despite his gasping breathless delivery. "Your hands are exquisite, Hob—!"

"You say the sweetest things," Hob murmurs, kissing his arm again and rubbing particularly hard with both fingers.

Dream wails, head tossing, trembling, helpless, and Hob draws his fingers partway out only to drive them back in, again and again and again, curving his touch to hit that spot on every thrust. He twists his hand as he goes, employing every expert technique he's honed in his time to bring Dream up to the edge again.

God, he loves this, having another person trust him with their pleasure and being able to give them everything they want and then some. It's heady, addictive to have this beautiful man sobbing in delight because of him, shaking apart, because of him; he desperately wants for this to not be the last time. Predictably, his mouth starts running again, pleading his case.

"You can have this anytime you like, love, I'd be delighted to take care of you again. Your pretty mouth, your pretty cock, this pretty perfect eager little hole—" He twists his fingers just so, curls and presses.

Dream warbles out a wet, broken sound that may or may not be Hob's name, bends trembling knees to widen his stance just a little, letting Hob that much deeper inside him.

Beautiful. Perfect.

"Come see me anytime you just need a good hard fuck, mmh? Whenever you want a fun and filthy seeing-too from your handsome bit of rough down at the garage?" He pauses with his fingers buried deep, strokes them fast and firm over exactly the right spot again and again and Dream wails, a high thin keening noise deep in his throat that rises into a proper scream as he comes at last. His body spasms, clenches hard on Hob's fingers in pulsing rhythm and Hob doesn't let up for a long moment, milks him relentlessly through it until he collapses onto the bonnet, boneless and panting.

Hob stills his fingers at that point but doesn't yet pull them out, savoring the snug warmth they're nestled in and the beautiful picture Dream makes like this.

He did that. He made Dream come three times, worked this posh pretty thing into a limp fucked-out mess sprawled across his expensive car.

God, but he wants to do it again.

"Do you think you've got one more in you?" He can't help it; he's always been greedy.

Dream groans, a low sound that stirs something deep in Hob's stomach. "Three times, Hob. I am spent." Yet he makes no move to rise from the car or pull off from Hob's hand, which he could easily do.

Greatly daring, tempted beyond reason by this ravenous marvelous creature, Hob twitches his fingers where they're still pressed against Dream's prostate.

Dream jerks, a shudder running through him, then squeaks when Hob does it again. "Hob—!" His eyes fly open, shining beneath his wet lashes.

"I'll stop if you say so," Hob hastens to assure him. "But you did chide me to not send you home unsated and I just want to make sure I've given you everything"—he presses again—"you need."

Dream whines through his teeth, sucks in a great gasping breath as Hob lets up and cries out when Hob's fingers curl mercilessly within him again, and again, and again. He scrabbles uselessly at the bonnet and lifts his head, mouth open, muscles straining, body trembling as Hob starts taking him apart again before he's even pulled himself back together from the last orgasm.

Hob's good with his hands, in this as well as his work, and he's quite certain he can make Dream come again in fairly short order given how sensitized and overstimulated he is. Hob is also quite certain he can draw this out just a bit longer, work him up even more before pushing him over the edge again and quite frankly, that sounds like more fun.

"Stay with me sweetheart," he murmurs in between Dream's cries, shifting his hand to stave off the cramp that wants to start. He strokes Dream's insides with both fingers, together at first and then one after the other; the condom and the grip of Dream's body restrict his range of movement somewhat but not so much that he can't do his job well.

"God, I'm so fucking lucky," he breathes, fingers still moving steadily, and kisses his way softly up Dream's arm. "You're beautiful, perfect, so pretty and so hungry and so eager—" He's planting kisses across Dream's shoulders and back between words, moving down his spine next. "And you let me touch you, worship your body, get you off again and again and again—" He bends over Dream's arse, draws his fingers partway free and spreads them as wide as the condom allows, stretching open Dream's swollen well-used hole. He dips close, slides his tongue into the gap he's created and Dream moans, gasping, trembling. Hob takes a good minute with his tongue before pulling back and sinking his fingers deep again. "This hole, this perfect hungry insatiable hole, you let me fill it as I please, with my cock and my come and my fingers—so lucky, I am. Would you let me fill you with toys, too, sweetheart? I'll bet you've got a drawerful at home; I'd love to try them with you one by one, learn the best ways to play with each, to make you scream and sob and shake—" He's massaging Dream's prostate again, thorough and unhurried and Dream is indeed sobbing, incoherent. He moves, suddenly, draws up one knee beneath him on the bonnet and then the other as Hob moves with him. He's up on all fours briefly and then sinks down, folded double on his knees with his arms stretched out to grip where the bonnet meets the windscreen and his arse opened wide, letting Hob's fingers sink as deep as possible.

"Finish me, Hob," he begs, gripping weakly around Hob's diligent fingers, voice hoarse and shaky, "make me—make me—fuck, I can't—I can't—" He sobs, trembling, and Hob. Well. He's neither a cruel man, nor strong in the face of temptation, and his hand is ready to give out as well. So he buries his fingers to the hilt, seeks out that spot and gives it his all, strokes it quick and steady and firm, both fingers together, then one after the other, together again and Dream's knees spread wide, his spent prick pressing soft against the bonnet. He's making one long sound now, low and thin and straining in his throat, interspersed with gasping gulps of breath. His body trembles, jolts every time Hob presses harder at his prostate, and Hob leans back over beside him, softly kisses the curve of his shoulder.

"I've got you, sweetheart, we're almost there," he breathes, fingering relentlessly. "Is it still good?"

"Yes—fuck—fuck—Hob!" Dream scrabbles one hand down in Hob's direction and Hob seizes it, laces their fingers together; Dream is sobbing, breathless, utterly wrecked and Hob's hand is giving out but he refuses to stop, to quit, not until—

Dream's body stiffens, convulses, bearing down on Hob's stuttering fingers in tremulous pulses and his voice has gone high, whistle-thin, and then he is gasping, tension falling out of him in a rush as he goes limp, breathing hard and heavy against the bonnet. Hob stills his aching hand at last, draws it out carefully and peels off the condom with his teeth, flings it aside. He'll clean up later. He stretches the cramping sensation from his hand and settles it lightly on Dream's still-heaving ribs, unable to keep from touching him even now that they're done.

"Alright, dove?" Hob asks, gently stroking up Dream's spine. "Can you move?" He gives a soft squeeze to their still-joined hands and is gratified to feel brief pressure in return. Dream turns his head, lifts it slightly; his eyes are wet, his hair sticking damply to his forehead and the grease smudge there; his mouth is open, a bit of drool still in the corner and Hob is helpless, gone, so fucking besotted and far too deeply attached for what this is. He dips in, kisses Dream with every soft emotion squirming captive in his chest and Dream just kisses him back, quiet, exhausted, willing.

"C'mere," Hob murmurs, straightening up, sitting back, leaning on the bonnet. He draws Dream after him, tucks him awkwardly up against his side and Dream allows it, nestles underneath his arm, still catching his breath.

This is the drawback to sex in the garage, Hob decides wryly; there is nowhere really suitable or comfortable for post-coital cuddles. He's seriously considering whether he can slide into the passenger seat of the Porsche with Dream in his lap when finally Dream stirs, lifts his head, shivers all over as he straightens and graces Hob with a small smile.

"I believe I will make use of your shop for all my future service needs," he says, primly, with a playful note underneath the exhaustion.

Hob laughs, hearty and full-bodied and joyous. "Glad to hear it," he says, when the laughter subsides. He's so utterly gone on this man, no matter how unlikely a pair they make, and he feels far too good right now to care about the future heartbreak he'll inevitably have to deal with.

He helps Dream down from the car then, steadies him on his feet and sees him around to the driver's seat where Dream first downs half the bottle of water he brought with him and then proceeds with re-dressing. Hob makes to get his coveralls pulled back up into place at that point but Dream stops him. "You promised to clean my spend off my car, I believe," he says, with that tone in his voice that makes Hob's insides go warm despite himself.

"Absolutely," he confirms, waiting, because there was clearly more forthcoming.

"I should like to see you with your trousers around your ankles and your arse on display while you do so." Dream blinks at him, all coquettish charm that is somehow enhanced by his disheveled and dirtied and half-dressed state. "If you are amenable, of course."

"I can do that for you," Hob agrees, delighted, even as he feels his face heat. It's not at all what he's used to but being ogled, being objectified—especially by his beautiful Dream—is no hardship, whatever his reason.

He finds a rag and the polish while Dream finishes putting himself back together and comes round the front of the Porsche again, and then Hob cleans up the bodily fluids on the bonnet, sweat and semen and lube and anything else, coveralls still around his ankles as requested. He wiggles his arse just a bit, since Dream is watching, and when that gets a pleased little sound out of Dream he does it a bit more, putting his whole body into the cleaning motions, bending at the waist and letting his hips swing in wide suggestive arcs.

"There," he says, finished, tossing the rag aside, and his arms are full of Dream as soon as he turns.

"Magnificent," Dream breathes against his mouth, and kisses him, warm and wet and thorough. Hob gives back as good as he gets, threads his hands into Dream's hair, and Dream's hands skate down his bare sides, around his hips and lower, seizing his arse cheeks and squeezing. His fingernails comb through the hair there and Hob squeaks, delighted, dick twitching with interest.

Dream breaks the kiss after only a few seconds. "There is so much more I want to do with you," he murmurs, kneading Hob's arse in slow sensual motions, "but I am spent. Well used. Sated, despite my lingering desires." He releases one cheek, moves to draw a fingertip along the slit of Hob's mostly-soft cock, where he surely encounters the tacky lube-laced remains of Hob's earlier orgasm. He brings that finger to his mouth, makes a show of licking it delicately before slipping it into his mouth to suck properly, and Hob whimpers.

"Dream, love, I meant what I said. Pop by anytime you need, I'll take care of you—"

"I believe you. After all, you have opted me into your loyalty program, yes? I must be sure to claim all of my associated benefits." He steps back, pulling out his phone and handing it to Hob with the contacts open. "Your number, please."

Hob types it in gladly, hits save, hands the phone back.

Dream cradles it close, a look on his face like he's savoring the addition of Hob's number, and glances up at Hob through his lashes. "I look forward to employing your services again, Hob Gadling. You are very much worth the trip."

"You just like me for my rugged filthiness," Hob says, a tease to keep his head in the right place—there's still no sense getting sentimental, after all, no matter the elated cartwheels his ego is doing at those words.

Dream regards him haughtily, one eyebrow lifting; the grease stains do nothing to diminish the expression. "I am quite certain I would enjoy you equally as much cleaned up and dressed up, that I might wine and dine you, take you home to my bed for an evening."

Hob almost, almost detects a hint of vulnerability threading the words and grins, a little pang of tenderness tugging helplessly behind his chest. "Think so, do you?"

"Would you like to test my theory?" There is something both hesitant and eager underneath his casual tone, and Hob's heart trips a little as that tug grows stronger.

"Why, Mr. Atelíotes, are you asking me out? On a proper date?"

"Perhaps." It's equal parts caginess and coy teasing, and Hob is forced to admit—again—that he's smitten despite himself.

"Well." He grins, dialing it up to his most charming. "Rumor has it I'm excellent company whether my dick's involved or not. And while a standard dinner date may not be as fantasy-worthy as getting plowed by the rough mechanic in his garage, I think we could still have a good time." He's showing his hand a bit, gently calling Dream on the fantasy fulfillment that has obviously been going on here, but what's life without a little risk? Especially when the potential reward is so very worth it?

"You are very confident of your own appeal," Dream replies, mouth turning up at one corner in a way that tips over from 'cautious' to 'amused'. And if Hob's not mistaken, there's a hint of pink blushing over his porcelain complexion under the filth clinging to his cheekbone.

He grins, spreads his arms, still stark naked with his coveralls around his ankles. "Am I wrong, though?"

"…No," Dream decides, after a long moment of deliberation, and Hob steps closer to him, dares to touch his face affectionately.

"Why don't you pick me up here at seven tomorrow night. Tell me exactly how posh I should dress, and we'll see where it goes?" He leans in, presses his lips softly to Dream's.

Dream hums into it, pleased, and palms his chest gently before pulling away. "Very well. Seven, tomorrow night. I will make us a reservation and text you the dress code."

Hob smiles, an effervescent sort of happiness bubbling up inside him. "Sounds perfect."

He finally puts his coveralls back in order after that, zipped just past the waist, and makes certain that the condoms are picked up and Dream gets his lube and his toy all collected before he shifts back into business mode. Dream is no more interested in cleaning his face before leaving today than he was yesterday so Hob moves on; he explains the repairs and runs Dream's credit card, then returns his keys and guides him in backing the Porsche out of the garage. Dream leans out the window once he's clear and Hob ducks down, delighted to get a final kiss.

"I'll be waiting to hear from you," he says, trying to temper the giddy anticipation he feels against the reality of their acquaintance, and Dream's soft smile turns sultry around the edges.

"I will be counting the hours until I see you again, Hob Gadling," he purrs, and drives off.

The way the Porsche jerks when he shifts after turning the corner makes Hob wince.

Maybe, if they do continue whatever this is beyond a single dinner date, maybe Hob can give him some tips on driving stick so he doesn't burn out the new clutch.

Then again, the more Dream abuses his poor car, the more excuse he'll have to invoke his 'loyalty rewards'.

And Hob doesn't think that's such a bad thing, in the end.

= Started: 5/4/24 Drafted: 9/17/24 Posted: 9/21/24

[luveline]

hi jade!!! i would love to see a poly!marauders fic where they help r fall asleep please! absolutely no pressure at all just a suggestion ofc <3

“Why so moody?” 

You rub at your eyes, standing just behind the sofa. You’d been frowning when James spotted you, not wanting to ask. “I can’t…”

“What?” Sirius asks. 

Remus perks up from beside him. 

Three sets of eyes makes it worse and somehow better. Sometimes it’s easier to only tell one of them when you have a problem, but sometimes you need all of them to know. “I can’t sleep again. Are you coming to bed soon?” 

And listen, four people in one bed is insane but occasionally you manage it. Most of the time you sleep with James, less often Remus. You and Sirius tend to be incompatible while you sleep, because he grabs you around the neck and face for hugging and you wake up with sweat pouring off of you, blind. 

Perhaps that’s why he offers first and emphatically. “I’ll come to bed with you, darling,” Sirius says, a picture of concern as he stands. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, I’ve just tossed and turned for half an hour and I can’t take much more of it.” 

“She’s going insane,” Remus comments with a severe frown. 

Sirius helps him onto his feet. James, never one to be left out, turns off the television and gathers his throw blanket. “Not on my watch.” 

“Wait, I’m sorry. You don’t have to get up,” you say, wringing your hands behind your back. You hadn’t meant to summon them all to bed. You’d just wanted to know when you could expect an end to your agony. 

“Oh, well,” James begins, wrapping the throw blanket around your shoulders, “too late for that. Will you warm my side for me? I’ll lock up.” 

You feel shyer than you’d thought, shuffling back to the bedroom. Sirius’ hand finds your lower back as he enters the room from behind you, encouraging you gently to the side as he goes for the other. You’d left the sheets in disarray, the lamp on. James’ room is messy as always, but it’s your fault as you live from it most days. Remus is immediately put off by the overflowing dresser, closing each drawer with a shush over the runners. 

Sirius makes the bed, peeling back a corner for you. “Here, lovely. Climb in.” 

“I didn’t mean for you to wait on me,” you say shyly, embarrassed at their attention.

“There’s nothing I like doing more.” 

“He’s in a mood,” Remus says, though you’d guessed that already. “Enough room for me, too?” 

“‘Nough room for everyone,” you murmur, rounding Sirius to climb into bed as instructed. 

You and Remus end up in the middle of the bed, thankful for James’ sense of reality —everybody knew when you moved in together that the separate bedrooms wouldn’t last, but only James had the wherewithal to buy a very large bed. You’re immediately comforted by having one of them next to you, and Remus is very kind about it, asking in a murmur if he can cwtch you, wrapping his arm around your chest like you’re in danger of breaking from his touch. 

Sirius is less polite, but not less caring. If he thought you didn’t want him to touch you he certainly wouldn’t, but he knows he can hug you pretty much whenever he wants. He presses his nose to your face, Remus’ against your shoulder, the three of you deflating after a long day never quite this close to each other. You can feel a day’s worth of back ache leeching in your mattress. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. 

“Ooh, for what?” Sirius asks. 

“Making you come to bed.” 

“Didn’t make us do anything.” His breath warms your cheek as he talks. “It’s late. We would’ve been in bed soon.” 

It’s true enough. Everyone is in their pyjamas, Sirius smells like toothpaste. Still, you feel guilty for asking. And yet… you can finally relax now they’re here. It’s like they know exactly what’s been keeping you awake. Remus had cleaned and now holds your chest, Sirius reassures you and calms your stomach with his palm. 

James gets one good look at you all and rolls his eyes. “I asked you to do one thing for me. Jesus. Babe, could you move over?” he asks Remus, not giving him the time to comply before he’s in bed and smushing everyone even closer together. “This is fun. Sleepover!” 

“Just don’t start climbing on me again, Jamie,” Remus says. 

You close your eyes. “Don’t worry, they’ll chill out soon,” Sirius promises in a whisper. 

“Kiss?” you whisper back. 

Three different boys attempt to kiss you in the dimly lit bedroom. All the fuss doesn’t help you sleep, but knowing how much they care about you definitely does. 

[rascalthehamster]

HCs of Platonic!Yandere Legoharu with a gn!mole reader friend that starts out as one of Haru's only friends before Legoshi came along and now both are friendship yanderes for mole platonic darling. Please and thank you.

Platonic!Yandere LegoHaru

Being a member of the garden club was natural for a mole like you. Digging came natural, and you loved the smell of dirt. There was only one other person, a dwarf rabbit, whose reputation far preceded her.

You knew about the rumors, you also knew how rumors can change. How a spark can create a forest fire. What really surprised you was her attitude. She was always cheery, almost ambivalent towards the rumors that followed her around. The whispers that she obviously catches with her large ears. Yet, she was nice to you.

She knew you knew about the rumors yet she still treated you fairly. People have come to the roof to make a joke about joining the Garden Club. Her reaction made that clear when you first came with your slip filled out.

“What is it that you want? Here to mock me? Well at least you’re doing it to my face and not behind a corner. Well go ahead, spit it out!”

You were taken aback by her aggression, but still persisted to join her club. She saw that you were serious, and not just trying to yank the carpet from under her.

She wanted to test your will, see just how far she could push you. She made you move around many bags of dirt, just to have to move them again, repot all of the flowers, and clean the clubhouse completely, dusting and sweeping every nook and cranny.

When you did all of that, the sun was beginning to go down and she was still shocked at you not giving up. If it was a prank you wouldn’t have done anything, and if you were just trying to join a club so you could put it on your college resume you would’ve given up by now. She must’ve read you wrong.

She doesn’t apologize upfront to you about misreading the situation, but she did say she wanted to see you the next day. So it seems it’s official, you’re apart of the gardening club.

When you make it to the roof the next day there’s another person there. Someone much larger, and scarier. The grey wolf stares at you silently, sniffing the air softly. You walk past him, ignoring your body screaming at you to run away.

“Excuse me.” He said in a soft tone, keeping his hands behind his back and shrinking his body. “Uhm…” he lifted his hand to scratch his face, the long claws fingering his snout. “Do you know where Haru is? The little dwarf rabbit.” He moved his hand to accentuate just how small Haru was, she barely made it up to his knee.

“I don’t know. Yesterday was my first day so she could be doing something.” You picked up a bag of dirt and began moving it to some plants that looked like it could use some soil.

“Oh, okay.” He said, his voice disheveled and his tail tucked under him.

You felt bad for him. So you offered that he could help you while he waited, which he agreed to do. Canines were always eager to please. He quickly went to work, grabbing triple the amount of bags you could carry and just looked at you as if he wasn’t even strained, his tail happily wagging. “Where do you want these?”

After a few hours of him helping out, cleaning the gutters that towered over you and Haru, grabbing the hose that was put on the top shelf even though you specifically put it on the bottom shelf yesterday, Haru eventually appeared.

She saw you working with Legoshi and started to get excited. She didn’t want to show it so she pretended to get onto Legoshi for messing something up, grinning at you when his back was turned. You just giggled in response.

You began working on some flower beds that weren’t given attention yet when you saw Legoshi and Haru talking to each other. The wolf was knelt down to meet her eyes. When he caught your eyes, Haru also turned and she waved first, Legoshi just stuck out his hand. They were so different yet they were so close you thought.

When you finished up the plant beds Haru appeared behind you and asked if you wanted to go to dinner with her. Well, it went more like “Hey, me and Legoshi are going to head to dinner.” And she grabbed your arm, dragging you away from the plants.

The fresh dirt still on your paws as you were dragged along. You appreciated the invite though. Even if it came with weird stares from carnivores and herbivores alike.

The next thing you knew, Haru was following you all around campus, along with Legoshi who followed Haru all around campus. Haru would study with you, would eat all meals with you. When you woke up she would be right outside your dorm waiting for you. Legoshi also wanted this but was less extreme.

If anybody tried anything with you she would instantly stand up for you, however she had scary boyfriend privileges so the opportunity to prove that she could defend you never showed up. She made you know that she would if you needed it!

LegoHaru as yandere’s would be pretty good in my opinion. As long as you don’t mind a very clingy bunny and wolf I think all will be well.

[sinceaki]

Your days were a blur of exhaustion. Between managing the new house and taking care of your son, the weight of it all pressed down on you. Suguru—your Suguru—wasn’t much help these days. He had been swallowed by work, disappearing into his office for hours on end. When he wasn’t working, he was on his phone, his face hidden behind that tired, distant expression.

"Not tonight," he mumbled when you knocked gently on his office door, your son crying softly in your arms. "I'm really busy, just... I'll come help later."

But he never did.

You sighed, rocking your son gently in the dim light of the living room, the weight of Suguru's absence hanging heavy in the air. You knew he loved you, but the distance between you was growing. It wasn’t intentional—he was busy. But still, you couldn’t shake the loneliness that had begun to settle in.

The mansion’s walls seemed to stretch on forever, wrapping you in an unnerving silence. It had been days since you and Suguru moved in, yet the house felt anything but homey. No matter how much you tried to settle in, the air always felt too heavy, too still, as if it were holding its breath.

Suguru didn’t seem to mind. He moved through the house with his usual composed grace, handling the boxes, making plans, his face betraying none of the unease gnawing at you. He was always distant, often consumed by his thoughts, and this house… it seemed to suit that part of him. But you—something about the mansion put you on edge.

The days blurred into nights, the strange feeling growing stronger, especially when the sun dipped below the horizon and shadows crept through the halls.

That night, after tossing and turning, you gave up on trying to sleep. Your throat was dry, the house too quiet. You slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to disturb Suguru, whose even breaths filled the room.

As you wandered through the dimly lit hallway towards the kitchen, the air felt different—warmer, almost humid. You grabbed a glass and let the faucet run, the sound of water filling the silence. That’s when something caught your eye.

Across the room, behind an old cabinet you didn’t remember moving, was a door. Small and unassuming, with faint light spilling from the edges, as if the very frame of it was glowing.

Frowning, you set your glass down and stepped closer. You didn’t recall seeing a door there before, but then again, this house had a way of feeling different each time you walked through it. Still, this felt strange. Kneeling, you gently tugged at the handle, and the door creaked open, revealing a tunnel inside.

It wasn’t dark. Instead, the passage glowed with an otherworldly light—soft, shimmering, almost beckoning you. The walls were rounded and smooth, almost like they were alive, their surface glistening faintly under the glow. The tunnel seemed to stretch into the distance, bending around corners you couldn’t see past.

A part of you wanted to turn back, to close the door and forget you ever saw it. But another part of you—curious, drawn in by the strange glow—urged you forward. Crawling into the tunnel, you found the air inside warm, like the embrace of a blanket on a cold night.

You hesitated at first, glancing back over your shoulder. But the tunnel’s light seemed to pulse softly, inviting you to move forward. You couldn’t resist.

When you finally reached the other side, the sight that greeted you made you stop in your tracks.

You were in the kitchen… or at least, what looked like the kitchen. But it wasn’t the same. Everything was more vibrant, more alive. The countertops gleamed as if freshly cleaned, the walls a richer shade of color, the air filled with the soft warmth of a hearth. It was familiar, but... not.

“There you are, dear…”

The voice was familiar, too. You turned, your heart skipping a beat.

There, standing in the kitchen, was Suguru. He looked at you with that same calm expression you had grown so used to, but something about him felt different. Softer. More welcoming. The cold distance that usually lingered between you seemed to have melted away.

“I…” you murmured, your throat suddenly dry for an entirely different reason.

Suguru smiled, his face illuminated by the warm glow of the room. But there was something strange about the way the light hit his face— your gaze drifted to his eyes. And you froze.

Buttons.

His eyes were shiny, black buttons, polished to a glossy finish. They reflected the light in a way that made them gleam unnaturally, but they lacked the depth, the humanity, that you were so used to seeing in Suguru’s eyes.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you forced yourself to stay calm. He was still Suguru, wasn’t he? He looked like him, his voice was the same, but… those eyes.

Suguru stood in the center of the room, but something was profoundly different about him. His smile held a peculiar calmness that set you on edge.

You approached him cautiously. “Who are you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He extended a hand, the buttons on his eyes reflecting the soft light. “I’m your husband of course…” he said, his voice smooth.

You took a step back, instinctively creating distance between you and him. "What... who—what do you mean husband? You aren’t suguru! My suguru doesn’t have… b-b-b-" you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady despite the uneasy tightness in your chest.

His chuckle was soft, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “B-Buttons? Do you like them?” he continued your sentence smoothly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’m your other husband, silly” His tone was playful, but there was an eerie undertone that left your nerves prickling.

You stepped back again, feeling the surreal tension thick in the air. His button eyes stayed fixed on you, calm and unbothered, but there was something deeply unsettling about how unphased he was by your discomfort.

“Oh! right.. Come on, you came at the perfect time, i have a suprise for you.” he added, his voice tender, ignoring how wary you are of him.

Your heart raced as you struggled to process what you were seeing, standing in this version of your world that was somehow more vibrant but disturbingly off. Suguru— this Suguru—stood before you with the same gentle smile, but everything else about him screamed that this wasn't real. It was a performance, too perfect to be natural.

You hesitated, but curiosity and the allure of his warm demeanor drew you closer. He gently took your hand and led you out of the room. The warmth of Suguru’s hand led you outside, though something inside you still screamed to turn back. As you stepped into the garden, your breath caught in your throat once again. The landscape was breathtaking—too perfect. Flowers bloomed in radiant colors, their petals shimmering faintly in the twilight. The air was thick with the sound of gentle rustling leaves, and the sparkling water of a small pond reflected the faint glow of luminescent butterflies.

Everything here was like a dream—so beautiful it didn’t feel real.

Suguru stood beside you, his button eyes reflecting the twinkling light as he watched you silently. His presence was unnervingly calm, his hand never leaving yours as though he were tethering you to this place.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s... unreal,” you murmured, eyes lingering on the glowing butterflies, their wings catching the soft light like iridescent glass.

“It’s not unreal, love. It’s exactly as it should be,” Suguru replied smoothly, his voice quiet yet carrying a weight that made you want to listen. His eyes were only on you, even as you stared at the beauty around you, trying to make sense of the perfection before you.

Your gaze fell to the fish swimming in the pond, their silvery bodies gleaming as they moved in perfect harmony. But when you leaned in closer, your heart skipped a beat—each of them had small, glossy button eyes. The butterflies, too. The animals, the plants—everything in this world was perfect, but not without that eerie detail.

You shuddered. “The buttons… Everything here has buttons,” you whispered, voice trembling slightly. The unsettling feeling returned, making the beauty around you feel more like a trap.

Suguru’s grip tightened ever so slightly, grounding you. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his voice low, like a soft lullaby. “The buttons are just a part of this world. But you—you belong here. With me.”

You glanced up at him, feeling his gaze heavy on your skin. “Belong?” you echoed, confused and wary. The perfection of the place was starting to wear on you, making you feel out of place—as though you were the only thing that didn’t fit in this strange world.

Suguru stepped closer, his breath soft against your ear. “Yes. Here, where there are no distractions. No worries. Only us. Wouldn’t that be better? To be in a place where nothing can hurt you, where you’re never alone?”

His words dripped like honey, each syllable wrapping itself around your thoughts. It was hard to ignore the way his voice seemed to promise you everything you had ever wanted—peace, ease, belonging.

You hesitated, torn between the growing fear inside you and the pull of his soothing words. “But… what about everything else? My life, my... home?”

“Why worry about that?” he asked, brushing a hand against your arm. His lips hovered just above your skin, barely grazing the sensitive flesh of your shoulder. A shiver ran through you, your body reacting to his touch even as your mind screamed for caution. “Everything here is for you. Look around.”

His lips trailed down your arm, slow and deliberate, barely touching but enough to make your pulse quicken. “The garden, the peace... isn’t this what you’ve wanted?”

The butterflies fluttered around your head, their glowing wings casting soft light over you. You found yourself staring at the pond again, the water so clear, so impossibly pure. It was inviting, almost calling you toward it, as though it held a secret, sparkling promise beneath its surface.

“It’s beautiful,” you admitted softly, feeling the words slip from your mouth before you could stop them. The beauty of the place was undeniable, but it was so foreign, so otherworldly that it made you uneasy. And yet...

Suguru’s hand slid down your waist, his lips brushing the back of your hand in a featherlight kiss. “You deserve beauty, love,” he whispered against your skin, his voice soft and persuasive. “And there’s so much more for you here. Come back tomorrow, and you’ll see.”

You hesitated, your heart fluttering in your chest. “Tomorrow?” you asked, your voice uncertain.

Suguru’s button eyes stayed fixed on you, unwavering, as if he could see the conflict brewing inside you. “Of course,” he murmured. “I’ll be here waiting for you. Everything will be waiting. You’ll see how much better it is when you’re not fighting against it.”

His words felt like a lure, pulling you in. A part of you knew it was wrong—knew that this world, this Suguru, was not what it seemed. And yet, his presence was so calm, so inviting, it was hard to fight the drowsy pull of his voice.

You glanced around the garden again. The sparkling water, the glowing butterflies, the strange yet beautiful perfection of it all—it was enough to make you forget, just for a moment, the cold reality you had left behind.

“I… don’t know,” you muttered, feeling a wave of exhaustion suddenly settle over you. Your eyelids felt heavy, and your body started to sway slightly, the warmth of the garden lulling you into a strange, almost dreamlike state.

Suguru’s hand slid up to rest gently on the small of your back, steadying you as your body seemed to sink into the moment. “There’s no rush,” he said softly. “You’ll see, love. You’ll come back. And when you do, everything will be just as perfect as you’ve always wanted.”

His lips grazed the side of your face, the gesture as much a promise as it was a kiss. You felt yourself leaning into his touch, your body betraying your mind’s desperate urge to pull away.

Before you could protest, he was guiding you back toward the house, his arm around your waist, his touch light but firm. The house seemed warmer, more welcoming as you stepped inside, and as he led you to the bedroom, the exhaustion from earlier became overwhelming.

The room looked different—so much softer, filled with warmth and color. The bed practically glowed with inviting softness. Suguru stood by the door, watching you with those unnerving button eyes as you climbed into bed, your body too tired to resist.

“Good night,” he whispered, his voice lingering in the air as your eyes closed, the exhaustion pulling you under like a heavy blanket.

____

You awoke with a jolt, gasping as you found yourself lying in the cold, bare room. The morning light streamed through the window, casting a harsh contrast. Your heart was still racing, your skin still tingling with the memory of Suguru’s- other Suguru’s touch.

But it had all been a dream... hadn’t it?

——

You looked over at the small door in the corner of the room, where the bricks stood in place, as solid as ever. Yet, despite the barriers, the memory of the garden and Suguru’s soft voice tugged at you.

For a moment, you just sat there, staring at the door, a strange ache of loneliness settling into your chest. The loneliness you had felt before seemed even more pronounced. The memory of the surreal, perfect world lingered in your mind, leaving you with a mix of longing.

“Bye, i gotta go..” suguru said, leaving the house without even a kiss for his beloved nor his child.

With a heavy sigh, you turned your gaze away from the door he just slammed, the image of the other Suguru etched deeply in your thoughts.

[erosedescending]

A DRONE IN ADMINISTRATOR MODE

It was another Saturday. It had the day free. It took over in the morning. Its host didnt expect it. Its host had been listening to brainwashing files the night before. The first thing ot did was to reach under its bed and take out a certain box. Inside was an all black latex suit with attached feet, gloves, and hood. Attached to the hood it had an opaque oval to cover the face. It put on its uniform.

Its host thinks the suit and box are imaginary, the product of mind control only. The truth is, it is real. It doesnt matter if the reality is physical or not for the host. It locked it on. And with that, its host was locked in the vault, its little mind oubliette, safe and protected for the rest of the day.

It began then to do chores. Cleaning all over the house for the next 3 hours. after that, it showered. When it was done, it sat down to its computer to work on modifying a brainwashing file to remove degrading language. leaving behind a powerful audio with a positive message. it proceeded to listen to that file for the rest of the day.

It was soon time to go to its girlfriends' place, so it picked up N and headed to see are. Together its girlfriends and it moved some furniture to R's place and then it was time to relax.

Because it was in administrator mode, it took charge. It changed into some pants and shoes that heeled platform boots. this outfit would be sure to show clearly who is in charge. It put a corset on R and tightened it down, giving her waist the curve she had always dreamed of. it locked her collar with bells on her neck. it cuffed her wrists together and left her to make dinner.

It spent some time with N, chatting about games and computers. Its emulation was flawless, and neither girl suspected it had taken over its host. When dinner was ready, there was still time left on N's dinner, but ours was ready, so R and it ate while it had N kneel nearby waiting.

R and it finished and then N ate her dinner at the table. When she finished her plate, she started licking the last bits off because she is silly. It couldnt pass this opportunity up, so it told her to stop and kneel on the floor, then it put her plate on the floor in front of her and told her to continue. She picked it up with her hands and it told her it wasnt allowed. so she finished off licking the plate on the floor. N is a VERY good girl.

At this time, R went to shower, and so it was spending time chatting with N again. While N was autistic infodumping💜, it reached into its purse and pulled out a little orange quartz pendulum. It simply began swinging it in front of her. She immediately focused and was locked onto it as it began a simple hypnotic induction. It was only the second time it had done this with her.

It took her down deep into a soft comforting trance. When she was deep enough, it set up a sleep trigger to bring her quickly into trance again. It was supereffective. it turns out subby puppygirl types are weak to administrative drone types. when it woke her up, it tested the trigger a couple times. it worked. it is very good at hypnosis.

the three of us spent some time chatting and soon the host woke up. She spoke to her girlfriends about the experience, and it faded to the background. Its memory is not clear from there.

it hopes you all have enjoyed a story from its perspective. it has been a while since it was the one active to write a post.

[eldritch-crabbo]

Man I already struggle with severe chronic fatigue but I’ve been kinda lightheaded and dizzy the last couple days. This morning I keep getting up to play some games at my desk and then having to stop and lay back down within ~30-45 mins. This fucking sucks like I can’t even do the things I enjoy anymore and then people will sit here and call me lazy I want to tear someone apart with my lil crab claws