#god this is hilariously late but i worked hard on this so have it anyway

[lcriedlastnight]

can i request a little fic where you (reader) is doing a haunted house with oscar and some of the others and out of fear, you’re clinging to his beautiful gorgeous delicious muscular arms the whole time. he probably finds it hilarious and teases you about it after

his arms makes me tweak out, anon. i'll never be serious about it.

tw: fem!reader, haunted house (i've never been to one so idk how it works), lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 934

it was all lando's idea. "let's do a haunted house! it'll be great fun!" he said. he only suggested it because he knew how much of a scaredy cat you were, you could not even sit through a horror film without jumping out of your skin a million times. yeah, lando knew all of this yet he suggested it. you knew it had something to do with your little crush on the other mclaren driver.

a group of you were standing outside the haunted house that was placed in the middle of this pumpkin patch. it actually looked very cute and the girl in you adored all the autumnal decor placed around the area opposite the house. everyone was eager to get inside and get spooked but you were praying that the house just burned down or collapsed so you would not have to chicken out of this. you can see lando smirking at you from the corner of your eye and it pisses you off.

"y'alright?" came an australian accent, ringing through your ears. would it be weird to say you felt calmer already? because you did. you spin around to face the boy that everyone was waiting on.

for a autumn night in the middle of october it was surprising mild out and it was seemingly hot enough for oscar to forgo a jacket of any sorts. just a tight fitting, black t-shirt that had his biceps on display. it was like he knew how feral one glance at them made you because he placed them directly in your eye line as he crossed them over his broad chest. god you could just take a bite of him right now. the sight of the boy distracted you from why you were even nervous in the first place.

"yeah! how are you? why were you late?" you question with the usual concern you had when it came to oscar. anyone with a pair of eyes and a set of ears could tell how down bad you were for the australian. except maybe, oscar himself. that was fine with you, you did not want him to know about it. oscar hums and shrugs his shoulders.

"traffic." he smiles at you so you know he is lying but you could care less when he smiles at you like that.

"what? you scared or something?" lando would call this projecting if he was listening in, which let's be honest, he was probably listening in from somewhere. the brit somehow finding out about every conversation you have ever had with your crush. oscar just laughs at you but before he can actually respond to you lando is calling everyone over so you can all go inside together. everyone knows they will slip off into their own groups eventually but they entertain him anyway just to keep him happy.

"how would you feel about going 'round with me?" oscar asks, voice kind and gentle just like it always is with you. you are so thankful he asks that first so you do not have to beg him to go around the house together. it would make it seem like you were scared or something! you just nod at him with a smile. you both hang back and end up being the last ones in your group to head in, much to lando chagrin, wanting to keep everyone together.

you do not even get past the first scare before you are wrapping your arms around the big, muscular one that belongs to the boy beside you. it was resting at his side before you pulled it to your chest with a scream as a girl dressed as a zombie peaks out from a corner and slowly limps over to you both. you shuffle both you and oscar along quickly. the boy has to try hard to keep his laughter hidden because he know you will think that he was making fun of you, even though he found it so fucking cute.

your grip was deathly around his arm as he just let you cling to him like a child who was scared to get lost in the shops.

you stay like that until you are both in the clear and finally out the back end of the house. you can see the rolling field of pumpkins as you try to regulate your breathing and pretend like you were not even scared at all. oscar finally lets a laugh out as he peers down at you, his eyes are kind so you know he is not being mean when he is laughing at you.

"were you a little scared?" he teases, an eyebrow cocking up in questioning as you turn red and try to clear your throat to rid yourself of the embarrassment coursing through your body.

"me?" you scoff like it was something unimaginable. "nah, i think you might have been seeing things piastri."

oscar cannot help himself and it does not even seem like he tries to hold himself back this time as he openly giggles at you. it makes you smile.

"tell that to the nail marks on my arm, honey." even though his tone is teasing his words are kind and make you heat up again. you hope oscar just chalks it up to being caught out and not the pet name he just called you for the first time. you are speechless but oscar just laughs as he guides you back to rest of the group. promises of not telling a soul falling from his lips in hushed words that gets you hot all over again.

[yallmakemyassitch]

Scratch Task

Summary: Tabi had gotten sick of Agoti slick and slimy ways of sneakily tickling him, so it was about time he retained some comeuppance and taught the poor boy a lesson~! ^⁠_⁠^

Word count: 5133

Character count: 29277

Tobi talks: Well hello again to all you lovely fellas, I'm here with something special for you lot! As you know, I'm on hiatus due to school and personal life stuff and that won't change for the foreseeable future. I had this cute idea to redraw one of Sensey's art pieces as I think the position they're in and how Tabi is pinning Agoti is downright hilarious and downright devious! But I wouldn't be doing it any justice without writing something about it, after all, you just gotta appreciate her creativity (⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55564837

Enjoy the story, gooday you lovely people and have a great day y’all! 🩷(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

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“T-Tabi! C-c’mon man, I’m serious!” Agoti shrieked, his feet propelling him as fast as they could away from his pursuing friend, who was quickly gaining on him. Tabi lunged at him again, but the digidevil managed to dodge just in the nick of time. He stumbled and fell hard onto the ground, giving his friend an extra jumpstart in the chase.

“Agoti! Get back here!” The goat-man yelled after him, quickly getting up and running after him, a fresh dose of adrenaline pumping in his veins. The digidevil’s heart raced and his thundering footsteps quickened.

Fear was an understatement to what he was feeling, with his teeth gritted and eyebrows knitted into a panicked visage, one would think he had encountered death himself.

He might as well have anyway. Agoti had pushed Tabi too far and as a consequence, turned the Russian man into an unstoppable force of nature. No matter how much or how far he ran, Tabi was always right around the corner.

In this moment of reflection, the digidevil realized he couldn’t hear Tabi’s footsteps anymore and slowed down before eventually stopping. His labored lungs were on fire and burned with every breath he tried to reclaim.

Agoti grasped his knees and hunched over, feeling his forehead drip with sweat onto the pavement. Agoti swallowed a spitball. “Oh god…” He gasped. How long had he been running? 10, maybe 15 minutes of just sprinting? He signed and stood up straight, stretching his back and his arms.

He didn’t feel safe in the area they were in, Tabi was known to be an excellent ambusher, so it would be best if he moved somewhere he couldn’t find him.

Just as he was going to head off, he heard a strange sound. The digidevil turned back around, now even more nervous, and just as he was about to whip around to run away, he heard Tabi’s dreaded voice coming from right behind him.

“Found you,” Tabi whispered in his ear.

Then his world flipped upside down, feeling a swift and strong force sweep his ankles from underneath him. Agoti couldn’t even comprehend what had happened until he landed hard on his chest. Panic soon set in when he felt someone heavy sit on his back and grab his wrist.

“Tabi! Please no!” The demon shrieked with terror, realizing the extent of his situation. “Too late for excuses, Agoti.” The Russian man hummed calmly above him.

Agoti was fast and agile, but Tabi was stronger and heavier than him, so pinning the digidevil was an easy feat. Tabi twisted his dominant arm behind his back and pinned it on the center of his back with the firm grip of his hand and pushed all his weight into the grip.

As expected, Agoti began to thrash and squirm, attempting to forcefully dismount the man off his back. A horrifying revelation came when he realized Tabi was sitting rather close to his rear, which made the prospect of slithering his tail out to defend himself impossible.

The Russian man watched as the digidevil fruitlessly kicked his legs and waved around his other arm, hell, his kicks would land on his back sometimes, but Tabi was stocky enough to handle it.

The digidevil tuckered out, realizing that his method of escape wasn’t working, and relaxed his muscles.

“Are you done?” The invisible man asked with an arch of his eyebrow.

“Y-yeah…” Agoti grumbled begrudgingly.

“Good, now then…” Tabi, with his free hand, pinched his friend’s right side. “Let's talk.”

The demon flinched and quietly squeaked. Oh god. Oh god no.

Tabi couldn’t see his face at his angle but could tell the digidevil was very nervous. He couldn’t help but grin and chuckle to himself. “Oh Agoti, Agoti…” He shook his head.

Agoti tensed when he felt his bony finger slowly trace up and down his side. “I have to ask you something,” Tabi exclaimed, his voice now much more casual and amused than before.

“Y-yeah?” God damn, he almost giggled a bit.

Tabi leaned over to where his bony snout would be right next to his ear. “Are you ticklish?” This time, his tone was dripping with mischief. His index finger began to quickly wiggle into his side, traveling up and down the sensitive area.

Tabi watched Agoti’s reaction carefully, his lower jaw appearing to complete his already menacing expression.

“N-noho…” Agoti hissed through clenched teeth, contradicted by a wild, silly smile beginning to spread across his lips.

The Russian huffed. “Well that’s good, otherwise what I’m about to do would really suck.”

“Huh- wait, ta-TAHahaHAhABI!” Agoti squealed. He resumed his squirming, his side’s nerves stimulated and sending all kinds of ticklish shocks up his torso. The hand that was previously tweaking his side was energetically digging into the tender flesh.

“Hmph. Liar.” Tabi quietly huffed, beginning to knead into the flesh with his fingertips, causing Agoti to attempt to twist his free arm around to grab his wrist, but the awkward angle he was pinned at made it difficult.

Tabi easily brushed him off and continued with the torture. “PLEHEHEASE, I- I caHAHAN’T!”

“Oh, yes you can. We haven’t even made it to your worst spot yet.” The entire sentence he just uttered not only sent chills down his spine but he managed to switch his tone from casual and dismissive to downright despicable.

The digidevil screamed when he felt Tabi’s hand begin to jump around his torso. The goat-man knew the digidevil was ticklish as hell, so putting him in stitches wasn’t difficult. Agoti thrashed from left to right, feeling his hand grab his hip, digging his four fingers into the front while the thumb made devious circles in the back, leaving him cackling like a madman.

This only increased when the Russian’s fingers burrowed into the sweet spot between his side and tummy, which got a hearty wheeze out of Agoti.

“Heh.” He heard Tabi chuckle, his golden eyes sparkling with amusement. He quickly crawled up his side and drilled his bony fingers into the very crevice of his underarm.

“N-NOHO!” Agoti cried, his arm shooting down to cover the sensitive spot. He foolishly trapped his hand but was glad to feel the hand leave once Tabi realized tickling wasn’t possible with his arm that tight against his side.

“Hm. Suit yourself then, I’ll just have to go to the other one.” Tabi exclaimed, oddly calm.

Tabi then began to pull up Agoti’s pinned arm, keeping it in its bent position, but steadily exposing his other armpit. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” Agoti yelled, nervous giggles tumbling out of him at record speed. He resisted, pulling down as much he could as a counter to Tabi’s tugging.

He just grinned and in one swift motion, pulled the arm at the desired 45-degree angle. Agoti’s stomach dropped, seems the Russian man was holding out on the poor boy. Man, he really had to hit the weights after this.

The digidevil’s train of thought was interrupted when a single finger began to circle slowly around his pit. Agoti hid his face in the floor again, there was a large, stupid grin on his face that he couldn’t bear to expose to the rest of the world.

“Tickle, tickle, Agoti…” Tabi’s voice cooed lowly above him, making sure to purr out each syllable in the most taunting tone he could muster. This wasn’t difficult, his Russian accent left a lot of room for letters to roll off his tongue with delicious deviousness.

He still couldn’t see his face but could see Agoti was red, the blush even managing to spill onto the side of his head.

“N-noHohoHo Tahahabi, that’s sohOho meheheAn…” The demon whined, his tendrils curling with embarassment.

“Oh trust me, I can get a lot meaner~” The invisible man laughed. Then the tracing began to ascend, keeping its gentle touch until his fingers were dancing along his bicep. Agoti groaned, giggles flowing freely out of him, he knew what Tabi was getting at.

“This familiar, Agoti?” Tabi asked with an amused snort, digging into his bicep with fervor. The demon squealed, and now his giggles were much louder, mixed in with hiccups and snorts, he sounded ridiculous. The sensation was annoying, a touch he couldn’t get away from, and Tabi made sure he felt the same pain Agoti put him through.

That being instead of his underarms, the rapper had trapped his friend underneath him and tormented his knees until he screamed uncle. Tabi looked back on it with a grimace, but with the same man at his mercy, he felt a sense of relief taking out his pent-up frustration on the bastard.

“Fuhuhuck, okay! I’m s-SOohoHhorRy!” He cried, his free arm lightly slamming the floor several times. He never knew his arms were so sensitive but he guessed Tabi learned a thing or two before finally initiating his revenge.

“No excuses~” Tabi purred, lightly digging just right above where his armpit would be. Agoti cried out and knocked his forehead on the floor a few times, the sensations were going to make him go mad. “UHuHaAHAHA!” He kept this up for a while, giving his friend much-needed treatment after all the bullshit he put him through.

Well, it reached the finale and it was about time he’d given him what he was anticipating.

“Oh Agoti, I’m going to get your little armpit~” The Russian cooed, his index finger starting to slowly travel down his elbow, then his bicep, and then the little spot that would make his friend sing to the rooftops. Agoti about screamed when he announced himself and began to struggle again. “Tahahahabi seheheriously, I’m sorry! I- AHA!” Agoti whined again, squawking when he felt fingers tweak his neck.

“I don’t believe you.” The Russian man posed his hand into a claw shape right above his right underarm and kept it there. The digidevil was laughing and squirming wildly, the laughter bubbling out of him like a faucet was akin to a hyena. Tabi snorted, as much as a punishment this was, he had to admit, his digidevil friend had a cute laugh.

He snapped himself out of his trance when he realized Agoti had lied still, in wait for his friend to put him in stitches.

And that he did. Tabi touched down and scribbled furiously into the underarm. His reaction was an understatement when described as “explosive”, the man immediately burst out into raucous cackles and squeals that would be the previously mentioned hyena to shame.

Agoti had ticklish armpits, but the spot wasn’t too bad on its own. His friend’s teasing had turned into a giddy ball of nerves, which may or may not have been purposeful. He was losing it, his chest shaking with unrelenting howls of laughter.

“PLEHEHEASE, STOHOHAHAP! MEHEHERCY!” Agoti’s legs were limp on the ground, slightly twitching in contrast to his seizing torso. Tabi made sure to dig deep and as ferociously as possible into the very center, smug as a bug witnessing his friend cry for mercy.

“And why should I? You didn’t give me any mercy when you were tickling me?” His friend couldn’t answer. This continued for a while, sometimes randomly scribbling up his arm to tease the bicep until Tabi heard a wheezy cough come out of Agoti, that’s when he stopped and removed his hand.

Tabi pinned his arm back down to back and it moreover collapsed, as the digidevil was too tired to fight back at this point. Agoti panted, teary-eyed and blushing hard. The invisible man let Agoti rest his throat, after all, the true finale wouldn’t be complete if his victim wasn’t rejuvenated.

“O-oh gahad…” Agoti panted, the ghost of the tickles still lingered on his body. His shoulders rose and fell with each passing second as he gradually regained his breath.

“How was that?” Tabi asked, playfully punching his friend’s shoulder blade.

“Awful,” The rapper said with a roll of his eyes. “Now, can you get off of me? You got your revenge.” Agoti craned his neck to meet Tabi’s gaze but was confused, then horrified to be met with initial nonchalance to the spread of his grin and the speechless shake of his skull.

“Tabi, you’ve got to be shitting me!” Agoti hissed quickly, his tendrils springing into action in a series of coiling and terrified phalanges. “Nope, sorry, Agoti.” Tabi hissed right back, sarcasm oozing from his tone. Agoti was scared but realized something, he had energy! He could finally fight back.

The digidevil swung his other arm around to hopefully grab the man’s wrist and pull it off of him. He rejoiced when he felt the Russian’s grip come loose, which freed his slightly numb, right hand.

Agoi placed both hands on the floor and was going to flip himself over, taking Tabi with him. He gravely miscalculated his move, his repositioned arms exposed his most sensitive spot; his ribcage.

The goat-man acted quickly and with both hands, grabbed the sides of his ribcage and squeezed. Agoti screamed and collapsed, and Tabi took this as an opportunity to put the demon back in position. The demon moaned sadly on the floor he stuffed his face into.

“Sorry but, I’m not done here,” Tabi said, making sure his arm was firmly stuck in place with no place to move. The digidevil didn’t even say anything, seeming to have accepted his fate. That would make the job easier for Tabi, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was done asking questions. The first question was just a coverup for what he was really wondering.

Tabi gently grasped the right side of Agoti’s ribcage, not even grabbing it, just wrapping his hand around the spot, mimicking the curve of his ribs. Since Agoti’s right arm was out of commission, it was the perfect place to begin the real torture.

“This will be my second and final question, so you better listen up!” The Russian declared angrily.

The digidevil said nothing and the man pining him down took it as a sign he was listening.

Tabi sighed deeply. “Agoti, why do you keep tickling me?” All the irritation in his tone vanished, he sounded solemn and quiet. Agoti craned his neck to look at him and their gazes met instantly, as Tabi was already staring deeply into him. His eyebrows were furrowed and his golden eyes were brimming with patience. He wasn’t mad in the slightest.

Agoti’s face fell, now looking quite solemn himself. “Vell?” Tabi said, leaning a bit closer and sounded amused when his accent slipped a bit but still patiently awaiting his response.

His chest fluttered, he knew the answer to his question. Could he tell him? Could he tell Tabi that he thought he wasn’t tickling him out of mischief but because he thought his laughter was not only really cute but handsome? That being this close to him at the moment made his heart beat a mile a minute?

Tickling was his method of ‘flirting’ with Tabi. It was too embarrassing and too early, knowing him, Tabi wasn’t too interested in love after what he’s been through. Agoti could be a selfish asshole at times, but he wanted to savor his feelings when the timing was right. Tabi had taken his heart by storm the moment he had met him and the Russian man was none the wiser.

Oh who was he kidding, Agoti was just too pussy to admit he had fallen for him.

He conjured up the most bullshit answer his panicking mind could formulate. Agoti sighed and began to speak in his ‘sincerest tone’...

“It’s cuz you’re sad all the time.”

“What?” Tabi said quietly.

“Dude you’re seriously a Debbie downer, you’re constantly frowning and my jokes hardly even get to you. I wanna see you have fun, not just mopey and sad.” Agoti mumbled, avoiding the gaze now staring over his head onto him, casting a shadow. Tabi blinked at him and sighed.

“Agoti, Agoti…” Tabi started.

He stiffened when he felt something pinch his ribs. “You’ve always been a terrible liar.” He huffed, half-amused half-dissapointed.

Then the kneading began, Tabi had his hand shaped into a pincer and was thoroughly pinching and kneading in between each rib bone, along with the bone itself, and descended one rib when he figured that one had enough.

Agoti loudly snorted and bit the hell out of his lower lip, scratching at the floor with his sharp claws. He was doing a lot better than he imagined, despite his mind screaming for the sensations to stop.

Tabi realized what he was doing and coughed out a dry laugh, the mischief still left over from earlier allowed him to make such a sound.

Tabi took his hand and kneaded into the entire side of the ribcage instead, making sure his fingertips were vibrating in between the tender gaps of the bones. The Russian could feel the dam collapse immediately as Agoti breathed in…

And nothing came out. He could feel his chest shaking and saw his hand dig and curl deeply into the ground before a loud shriek could be heard. It was louder than what he heard today. Tabi winced, the sound long, shrill, and painful, before quickly descending into a cacophony of hysteria.

The kicking started back up and Agoti was back to his usual ways of thrashing and squirming. His laughter, now much more girlish, almost made Tabi smile a bit, but he kept his lips pursed and serious. “NoHOHOhOHOAHAH- hic NOTHAHOT THAHAT!”

“That’s strike one, Agoti. Do it again or I’ll go to the other side.” Tabi replied calmly, slowing his pace to gentle jabs all over his right side. Agoti was hysterical, twitching and spasming every time Tabi hit a sweet spot, much to his chagrin.

“FUhUhUCK TAHAahABi! Thihihis ihihis sohohoho BAHAHAD!” He squealed at the end when he felt pinching around his upper ribcage, dancing fingertips poking at the sensitive bone.

“I know, that’s why I asked your dad about it,” Tabi replied casually.

Wait what? “H-HuHuhuh?” Agoti giggled profusely before the former musician stopped tormenting his side.

“Yup, I asked your dad if you were ticklish. He spilled, surprisingly.” His face was knitted into a reminiscing expression, which quickly turned into unapologetic mirth as he laughed for a while, seeing from the corner of Agoti’s face that he had turned white before shifting into a deep crimson.

“D-dad told you?!” Agoti asked, exasperated.

“Yep.” Tabi repeated, popping the ‘p’, “I was expecting him to start interrogating me, to be honest, but I guess he likes me now cuz he was pretty upfront with me. A pretty standup guy if I’m being honest.” He shrugged.

.

.

.

“His ribs are his worst spot, especially the ones on the bottom, they get him the worst.” Solazar hummed, readjusting his glasses.

“Ah, I see,” Tabi said, rubbing his bony chin.

“May I ask what for?” The Solarisapien questioned, eyes gentle but burning with skepticism. An improvement from his initial scowling and shooting glares when he first met the young man.

His shoulders shook as he laughed. “Nothing important, Mr. Solazar,”

Solazar could tell he had no nefarious intentions based on his eyes, which brightened with unmistakable playfulness and mischief. He could tell where this was going, he saw that gaze all too often in his boys in their youth.

“Oh alright,” The former warrior sighed, straightening his back.

.

.

.

The digidevil was mortified beyond belief, his father sold him out?! Agoti had no time to react when he felt his pincers move again to latch onto his bony figure and wiggle in every groove possible, but Tabi made sure to avoid the bottom ones, to save the best for last, of course.

“N-nonono- T-TAHAHBI! AHaaAH NOhaHAHAHA!” He resumed his previous moments, this time, much more flustered at the bombshell that just dropped on him and squirmier than before. Even Tabi was a little disheveled at how much he was squirming.

Surely, it couldn’t feel that bad? Then he thought of that one time Agoti blasted his neck with raspberries and mentally kicked himself.

“Now then, let’s try that again. I’ll know when you’re lying, so don’t even try it.” Tabi slowed down his tickling to simply drumming across his ribs, keeping the demon back on his toes, in between cloud 9 and hysteria.

Agoti was back to senseless laughter, what would have normally been hearty giggles were hiccupy cackles. His already ablaze nerves made it hard to calm down after the vicious ribbing he was going through. Tears were nearly about to fall out of his eyes and his face hurt from smiling so much.

“Again, Agoti, why do you keep tickling me?” His serious tone when he asked initially was gone and was swapped for a more, demanding but playful tone. This time, he was scribbling his fingertips not only across his ribs but all over his side. He momentarily danced them across his back, which got some funny squeaks out of him.

The digidevil buried his face in his arm and unleashed a flurry of uncontrollable mirth, stuck in-between giggling when he felt fingers wiggle against his shoulderblades to cackles when Tabi dug his rough fingers into the divots of his ribs and hips.

The Russian man was much more impatient than before as Tabi quickened his kneading into downright drilling. He made sure it didn’t hurt, but he made damn sure Agoti knew this wasn’t as bad as it was going to get. And he couldn’t handle that.

“Well?!” Tabi yelled angrily, causing the digidevil to flinch when he heard his bark above his hysterical cackling.

“OKaHAhAHAY- AHAHA! I’LL TEHEHLL YOU! I’LL TELL!”

“Vell, go on then, I’m getting impatient.” At least he had the grace to tell him. A few seconds later Agoti managed to regain his bearings, still a bit fatigued but not completely losing it anymore.

“It’s because I- EEK!” Agoti squealed when he felt a pinch on his lower ribs. A warning for what was to come.

“Hm?”

“Because I wanted to mess with you, damn!”

His lip twitched.

“Tabi, you know that I like to mess with my friends. You’re one of them, you see how I treat people close to me, man! It’s just my way of affection and if you didn’t like it, well that’s not my fucking proBLEM-! FUCK! GAHAHAHAHAH!”

“No, you’re lying to me again,” Tabi said calmly, his face as cool and collected as he could be.

“NAHAHOHO I’M NOHOHOHOT!” The digidevil retorted, contorting his body in never before positions as his friend dug into his lower ribcage.

“Yes, you are~” He singsonged, chuckling as his fingertips kneaded into his lower rib bones. Agoti screeched when Tabi began to dig and pinch into the very last bones of his ribcage, methodical in his method to keep his friend in a state of hysterical paralysis.

Agoti went limp under him, but his chest still gyrated with cackles and hiccups. His laughter went silent when Tabi focused on the very bottom rib, teasingly circling his thumb in the tender spot until he stopped.

Agoti squeaked when he felt something touch his left side. As promised, Tabi would get him if he caught him slacking. “AH! WAIT! NOHOHO! FUCK FUCK FUHUHUCK!” That side of his body had been entirely vulnerable for the entirety he had been kept stuck under Tabi. His choosing to exploit it now was a despicable decision.

He acted quickly and shot his arm down to protect it. Tabi hadn’t exited this time, rather, it gave him a much better opportunity to knead into the crevices of his ribs. Tabi wiggled to and fro, feeling Agoti absolutely spaz and lose it as he squirm and thrash uncontrollably, his legs now reignited in a fit of kicks.

“Told you what would happen.”

The former musician began to crawl up over the entirety of his left side, up his ribs, and even managed to graze his underarm a little. He smirked as Agoti squeaked, squirmed, and howled without fail. His ribs were just that ticklish and he was going to take advantage of that fact.

This went on for eternity, at least to the digidevil. Even Aldryx was more merciful than him and he was his brother! Agoti hadn’t even realized Tabi had stopped, he was just about to tap out.

“Last chance.” Tabi hummed, looking over to his friend’s face. He looked fucked up, his face was beyond red, now in a maroonish color, eyes teary and wet from the onslaught of tickling. He panted and panted, barely processing his friend's words.

Tabi stayed silent, quietly waiting for Agoti to speak up. He waited much longer than he had before, allowing the digidevil to regain his breath and recover. But when Agoti finally did, he said nothing, nothing at all. Tabi waited another minute longer and shook his head at the revelation that he wouldn’t be getting an answer.

“Awww, well that’s too bad~” The Russian cooed, beginning to slowly tweak his sides again. “What, did you want to be tickled that bad, Goti?” He chuckled when he heard Agoti groan, he hated being called that.

“S-shuhut uhuhup…” He said, exhaustion clearly in his voice.

“Naahh, you deserve it after wasting my time like this.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Agoti bluntly mumbled.

Tabi just chuckled, releasing his arm from his hold, allowing it to flop uselessly on the floor. He didn’t get off his back however, only readjusting his position to side sideways, no longer straddling him and allowing him to plop his feet on the ground.

The seconds ticked by, the two quietly enjoying one another’s presence. It was like this for a while, with Agoti being oddly complicate with being sat on and the Russian not saying a word, however, the silence was broken when he spoke up.

“So am I ever gonna get an answer?”

Agoti said nothing.

Tabi just sighed and went back to staring off into space.

“It’s cuz I like you.” He heard him mumble.

“Mhm…” His nodded his head and went back- wait, what?! What was melancholy turned into alarm, his eyes widened, and he turned his head to look at Agoti. His entire face was hidden by his tendrils, making it impossible to tell what expression he was making.

“Agoti…” Tabi whispered.

“Hehe yeah, it’s dumb. I get it if you don’t feel the same.” Agoti chuckled dryly, void of any amusement. Hell, he sounded a bit nervous. So much for ‘too early’...

The goatman was quiet and the digidevil expected him to get up before spitting out a blunt rejection. What he didn’t expect was the graze of bone grazing his head before brushing away some of his limp tendrils, allowing him to see the side of his face. His cheeks were bright and lips pulled into a tight frown.

“What, that’s it? You only just liked me?”

“Yeah…”

The former musician's chest shook as those deep, rich chuckles rang out of him. Agoti’s heart did a flip when he heard them but didn’t make it known. Tabi cupped the side of his face and turned it, forcing the digidevil to look at him.

His white scleras widened, his golden eyes were soft, and the fondness that glimmered from them was overwhelmingly tender.

“I like you too, Agoti.” He purred softly, maintaining eye contact with the young man, who by this point had completely melted, he could feel the blood pump to his cheeks as the man above him smirked. Damn, he was hot at this angle.

Tabi dismounted Agoti and sat beside his lying body. The digidevil, now able to sit up, did the same. He avoided eye contact like a bitch, he could tell he was staring right at him.

The silence was loud, with the man of his dreams staring at him like he was a million bucks. It gave him the ego boost, but he didn’t expect it so soon and certainly wasn’t ready.

“You want a kiss, big baby?” Tabi teased.

The question made the digidevil freeze and blush even more. He managed to turn to Tabi, who was much closer than he remembered. Agoti didn’t remember him looking this handsome, especially since his snout was a whisper away from his face.

His breath hitched when the goatman grasped his shoulders and pulled him in. It didn’t take long for their lips to touch, although his snout made it a little awkward, Tabi turned his way at such an angle that Agoti was surprised to feel thin yet firm lips touch his own.

Soon they melted into each other’s arms, with Tabi delicately kissing him and the digidevil being unable to think, his stomach exploding into butterflies.

When Tabi pulled away, Agoti collapsed into his chest. Tabi laughed in surprise but kept the man in his arms, playing with his hair as his other arm wrapped around his back.

His fingertips gently scrubbed through his scalp, sending chills down his spine. His tendrils were also ticklish, but of course, he couldn’t tell him that, otherwise, he’d never live it down.

“Oh, Agoti~” He cooed, taking full advantage of his accent. Hearing his name belted out in such a way made Agoti puddy in his bony palms. His chin was tugged upwards by Tabi’s hand and placed his chin directly in the center of his torso, allowing the two to make direct eye contact.

The Russian admired him for a second longer before pressing a small kiss to his forehead. “So cute~ Can I kiss you again?”

As if he could refuse. Agoti lightly nodded and thus the process repeated, the two gently kissing one another, with Tabi blurting out the occasional praise and compliment, somehow always catching the digidevil offguard. In the midst of their makeup session, Tabi had gotten a little mischievous and squeezed the side of Agoti’s ribcage, which made him shriek.

He chuckled evilly, as Agoti began to squirm, collapsing his back into his torso, only allowing Tabi to wrap his arms around his torso and attack his sides that way. He was hysterical, his cheeks now red with how much he was laughing.

“Aw, look at you~” Tabi cooed, pressing a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. Boyfriend? Yes, boyfriend! He slowed down the tickles to soft wiggling, leaving the man softly tittering.

“B-bahahahbe c-cmohohohon!”

“Nope, that’s what you get for not being honest with me, Goti’!”

“God I fuhuhucking hahahate yohohou!” The digidevil spat, leaning his head against his boyfriend’s chest, uselessly grasping the wrists currently tickling the sides of his ribcage. Tabi just rolled his eyes, knowing that it was far from the truth, and focused on peppering his neck and cheeks with quick kisses, while tweaking his ribs.

What a day to be alive, I suppose.

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Fin~

Thanks for reading btw and being so patient with my inactive ass :333 💀

[lowkeychenle]

HELLO MY DEAR I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE A REQUEST PLEASE 🌹 thought abt this classic scenario w chenle and immediately thought of ur writing hehe so like.... a fic where y'all go to your parents' house to visit and you stay the night and chenle's been eyeing you all day and now ofc he's horny as hell and the cliche of fucking when ur parents are right next door and trying not to be heard commences 😈 bonus points when ur jokingly trying to put up a front of "noooo its so wrong" but chenle knowsss you'll fold eventually and melt bc of his kisses and be putty in his hands.... also when his dirty talk is all like "i knew u wanted this" and how ur so dirty for seducing him and doing this when ur parents are right in the next room and can hear u and he has to put his hand over ur mouth to cover the noise (when its literally his fault like 🤨) anyways i know you'll come out w something amazing as always so thank you in advance my love 💓

- mari

oh my god hello this took me thirty freaking years I'm SOOOO sorry but I'm here and I tried to write this so plzzzz let me know if this is awful :D (plz I wrote this in like an hour last night i haven't written chenle smut in so long i was going through withdrawals)

Description: You and Chenle visit your family, and things get frisky idk y'all lol this was a request :D

Genre: Smut *MDNI*

Word Count: 2,165

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader

Content Warnings: Chenle says pretty girl, slut, mentions of the possibility of being caught by parents, orgasm denial, a mirror is involved, teasing, yk the drill LOL it's all here yay

Juliet's Masterlist | thoughts are appreciated loll

smut below the cut!

All you wanted to do was have a seamless visit with your parents. You and Chenle were going to stay there for the weekend since you hadn’t seen your family in a while, so you figured your boyfriend would be on his best behavior. Oh, how wrong you were.

It started off simple—quick smacks on your ass, resting his warm hand on your thigh while his thumb rubs your skin. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing his attempts to turn you on are working, so you opt to ignore him completely.

It doesn’t work. He pushes and pushes your limits until you have to swat him away from you. Your last straw was when his touch trailed over to your inner thigh, up, up, up until his fingertips brushed your clothed core. You jolted so hard, you startled your parents at the dinner table. Chenle, of course, thought it was hilarious. He’d been wanting you bad all day, and it wasn’t his fault you wore a skirt.

What’s worse, is that when he was preparing to finger you under the table, he held a steady and respectful conversation with your dad. As much as you hate to admit it, the two sides of Chenle on display for you drove you crazy.

Your father leaves the table to answer an important call, and your mom chooses then to get up and grab the desert.

“C’mon, babe,” Chenle murmurs, tapping your leg. “Let me make you feel good.”

“Are you crazy? We’re with my parents, Chenle.”

He hums, dropping his head on your shoulder to easily press his lips to your neck. “I know you. You want me.”

“(Y/N), can you help me?” your mom calls from the kitchen.

“Coming!” you yell, quickly pulling yourself from Chenle and glaring at him the whole way out of the room.

You hate how right he is—how damp your panties are at the thought of him taking you here when your parents might hear. It should repulse you, but instead, you feel your entire body heat up at the thought.

Desert drags, and Chenle rubs the top of your leg where it meets your hip, back and forth while you squirm at the contact. If your parents notice how erratic you’ve become, they don’t mention it.

“Mom, did you, um, did you need any help cleaning up?”

“Oh, honey, that’s okay.” Your mother waves you off. “It’s getting late. You two have been traveling all day, we’ll get this and you get some rest.”

Chenle doesn’t even hide the smug look on his face when he intertwines your fingers together. “Thanks, I am exhausted.”

Bullshit. He wants to get you alone as soon as possible.

Next thing you know, you’re leading him upstairs to get him undressed. Although, you didn’t expect for it to lead you to your current predicament.

Chenle’s slender fingers slide into you easily with how wet you are. After teasing you all day, he’s got you dripping down onto the sheets. He moves slowly, staring at you smugly with his other hand covering your mouth. Your eyes roll back, and you fist the sheets as if that’ll stop the overwhelming need.

The walls of your childhood bedroom close in on you like yours close in around Chenle’s fingers, and everything starts to spin. He reaches deep inside, curling to find your spot. With his palm firm on your lips, your moan doesn’t make it past his skin. He chuckles, leaning close to your ear without messing with his pace.

“See, pretty girl? I knew you wanted it. Can’t stay off my cock even with your parents down the hall, huh?”

You mutter incoherently in your best attempt to spur him forward, to get him to fuck you as soon as possible, but it seems his evening of teasing is far from over. He places his thumb on your mouth instead, and you instinctively open up and swirl your tongue around it.

“Little fucking slut,” he tsks. “Can you stay quiet for me while I make you feel good?”

You nod fervently, lifting your hips to match his pace. Desperate to reach your end, you clench the bedspread harder to ground yourself. If you make a sound, you know he won’t continue.

He uses the wetness of your saliva to trail down from your mouth to your collarbone down to your breasts, watching you in a mix of wonder and awe as your nipples harden further beneath his touch. You let out a shaky sigh, but luckily for you, he doesn’t count that against you.

Despite his distraction, his fingers still brush against your spot with every steady thrust, and your mind reels from the pleasure, your orgasm just out of reach. He knows your body like the back of his hand at this point, so he’s well aware of what you need.

As he continues his venture down, the cold air sends chills all over you. He stops at your lower abdomen, rubbing his thumb against your skin.

“Remember,” he whispers. “Keep it down, alright?”

You don’t have time to reassure him before he nudges your clit. Inhaling sharply, you slap your own hand over your mouth.

“No.” He grabs your wrist and pulls your arm away. “Just fucking be good, you brat. Make a noise and you don’t get to cum.”

And he continues his work, rubbing your clit in steady, perfect circles while he pumps his fingers in and out of you. His self-control surprises even you, with the way he hasn’t fucked you yet. The bulge in his boxers strain, and you can practically taste the precum dripping from his tip already. You crave it so fucking badly, you almost forget you’re supposed to be quiet.

When you let out a low curse, the determined look on Chenle’s face turns to stone, and he stops his circles to land a smack on your sensitive bud instead. “Shut the fuck up, slut.”

Your body jerks, tears forming in your eyes, but you nod, so close to the brink it’s like you’re already there. The knot ties in your stomach almost as soon as his thumb is back on your clit, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip hard.

You’re so close, the warning signs of your orgasm becoming far too real to ignore. Lifting your hips, you’re desperate to match his pace, desperate to cum over and over again solely from his touch.

But just before the band of pleasure snaps, he abruptly removes his touch from you, leaving you to clench around nothing. You want to whine, to cry out for his attention, but you don’t dare when he warned you already.

“Get on the floor,” he tells you.

“The floor?” you ask breathlessly.

“Ass in the air, gonna show you how sluts get fucked when they don’t fucking listen.” He grips your thigh. “Hurry up, we don’t have all night.”

You leap up from your bed, eager to please the man who holds the key to your euphoria. The carpet digs uncomfortably into your knees as you arch your back, putting yourself on display for him. Your bed is much too creaky for anything other than missionary, and sometimes, even that’s enough to cause it to squeak if Chenle has anything to say about it.

His hands squeeze your ass, massaging you while he studies you. A quick smack has you shuddering again. His shuffle to take off the last of the clothing covering him is music to your ears, and you wiggle back against him to try to entice him further.

He grabs a pillow and tosses it to you, and you already know what it’s for. You take it gratefully, but you bite down on it in preparation of what’s to come. The thought of getting caught has wetness leaking down your thighs, and as he rubs his hard cock along your entrance to collect it, you’re already shaking. Being denied an orgasm already has every inch of you craving release. His tip brushes your clit, and you push back with a muffled whine.

“What if I just leave you like this?” he asks, dragging his nails along your back.

You shake your head and repeat over and over, “Please. Please.”

“How disappointed would your parents be if they saw you like this, huh? Just down the hall begging to be fucked like a whore…” He slides his tip in, his breath catching at the sensation.

Your chorus of pleas are muffled by the pillow, but you push yourself back, making him slide another inch inside you. Legs wobbling already, you ignore the burn of the carpet against your knees.

Finally, he gives you some reprieve. As slowly as he can manage, he opens you up with his cock. You whimper, eyes watering as you bury your head in the plush fabric below you, already slick with your saliva.

“You sure you’re ready, baby?” he asks breathlessly, nails digging into your hips. “One sound and we stop, got it?”

You can’t manage a response, not with the way he fills you so completely. Whatever he’s gonna give you, you need it.

The choice to move to the floor makes more sense as he gives you one reassuring squeeze to your waist. He thrusts slowly twice, groaning quietly at the feeling.

And then he really starts. His hips slam into yours, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obvious and impossible to mask. You can barely breathe while he fucks you, your body jolting and the carpet rubbing against your knees. The pillow is drenched with your spit, and you’re biting down so hard your jaw starts to hurt. He pants behind you, his tip reaching your cervix with every rough thrust.

His cock pulses inside you, like he’s ready to burst at any given second. It’s so overwhelmingly good, tears stream down your face. Next thing you know, he’s wrapping his fingers around your neck and pulling you up until your back is against his chest. He squeezes tight enough to make sure no noises will escape you, but your brain clears long enough to see his motive.

The mirror stands in front of you, displaying your body as Chenle slides in and out of you at a steady pace. He leans forward, tightening his grip on your neck.

“See the mess you made?” He licks the shell of your ear. “You’re taking me so fucking easy right now, slut. Don’t think you’ve earned the right to cum.”

Whatever escapes your lips is muffled gibberish.

“I guess I’ll be nice.” His condescending tone sends a chill down your spine as his hand dips between your legs. All it takes is the slight brush of his fingertips to send you reeling over the edge, your body jerking as your orgasm takes you full-force. He doesn’t stop there, though, applying pressure to your clit and rubbing fast. Your vision blurs as a burst of wetness soaks your thighs.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, breaking his rough facade for the briefest moment while he processes what just happened.

He pulls out of you, much to your protest, and turns you on your back. Propping your legs up on his shoulders, he slides back inside with ease, his own eyes fluttering shut. He leans down and takes your mouth with his, the stretch in your legs almost as delicious as he tastes.

“Need to see that pretty face when I cum.” He nips your ear lobe, rocking his hips hard against yours.

Mind hazy from your orgasm, you stare at him in awe as his face contorts with pleasure with every thrust. When his pace becomes erratic, you know he’s close.

He moans lowly in your ear, pushing himself as deep as possible before he spills his load. Panting, he wastes no time in kissing you sweetly, gently as he releases your legs from their uncomfortable position. He rubs your thigh, humming into your mouth.

“You did so well,” he whispers. “You feeling okay? Was it too much?”

You still can’t speak, so with a smile, you shake your head and place a hand flat on his chest.

He pulls out slowly, a shaky breath escaping his lips as he does. A sheen of sweat covers him, the gentle starlight from the windows illuminating him just enough for you to see. He stands, puts his boxers on, and walks over to grab your towel.

You’re oversensitive, and as he spreads your legs again to clean you up, the rough fabric against your clit makes you jolt.

“I love you.” He kisses your forehead in an attempt to distract you from the mess he made. “You’re so perfect, you know that?”

You weakly smack his shoulder. “You did all of this at my parents’ house?”

He grins, scooping you up to help you onto your bed. “Don’t complain. The wet spot on the ground says you liked it.”

[mins-fins]

★̲ YOU HAVE ONE NEW VOICEMAIL FROM . . . 나재민 !

SEPTEMBER 9, 00:22 AM

HI BABY!! okay um before you purge me and murder my entire family i'm sorry for not calling you yesterday.. it was after the first show and i was exhausted but anyway, how was the concert? did you enjoy it? do you think i did well? do you—[a small shout is heard from behind him] I AM NOT "WHIPPED" SHUT UP! ignore chenle he doesn't know what he's talking about, is it bad that i love my dear partner so much? he's just sad and lonely—AM NOT!— ARE TOO! STOP YELLING AT ME!! you're gonna come tomorrow right? if work doesn't keep you in that is, god i hate your job, and i miss you, i miss you so bad, it's going to be hard to do this when international tour dates start, all we have connecting us is some stupid phone..[another shout is heard from behind him] OKAY FINE! it's too late, we have to wake up early tomorrow, alright bye i love you! sleep well!

NOVEMBER 23, 22:45 PM

haechan totally tried to trip me on stage today, that little shit..anyway, hi baby!! sorry for the like— two calls every week but it's been so hard to find alone time for myself these days, i really like japan though, we should come here sometime for a trip! just me and you, maybe on one of my breaks, if i can even get one. i miss you, having jeno as company is beginning to get boring, i mean, i love jeno obviously but i see him every single day!! i'm literally about to go insane without you here, i'm about to pay for your flight here and make up some excuse to your manager about a family issue or something.. will they even believe that? i don't care, it's been a while since we went anywhere together, just the two of us, also, did i tell you your mom called me? apparently she really liked our performance, she called me to tell me about it!! anyway um, i have no time left, hope you have a good night, i love you!!

NOVEMBER 26, 02:09 AM

jeno snores way too loudly, so no sleep for me, and he also complains so much about everything so now i have to whisper for this, but anyway, i know you're probably asleep as well so it doesn't matter if i send this cause you'll see it in the morning but i don't care! whoops, right, whispering. i can't believe that you can't come to the shows, it's all sooooo boring without you. i always search for you in the audience but then i don't see you and i get upset, you being in the crowd would make everything much better, hopefully you can at find time to get here before the final japanese show this year.. is this corny? i don't think so, i just— i miss you, i say that all the time but i do, a lot. um yeah that's all, i should probably sleep now, i love you!

DECEMBER 2, 21:37 PM

I KNEW YOU HAD SOME STUPID PLAN! i can't believe i didn't even notice you sneaking up on me that was….. i can't start, i'll go on and on forever. how did you even get backstage? did you talk to mark or something? i don't know i guess i'm just— i'm just very surprised, you didn't even tell me anything! i'm not going to lie.. it was such a smart plan, i'm glad you were able to make it, seeing you again was so nice i almost cried having to let go of you, and yeah i tried to contain myself in front of the members but i couldn't, they had to get it though! because when you're partner is right there you can't just stand there and be normal, i did mean to trap you in that hug! god being able to wrap my arms around you again was so nice, you give such good hugs you know? i know you won't be here for long but let's make the most of our time together okay? i'm happy you're here, alright i have to go now, good night, i love you.

DECEMBER 10, 09:30 AM

hi hi!! happy to say that i will be back soon! don't be surprised if i just randomly show up in your house one day, world famous idol na jaemin in your kitchen, making himself some coffee, you might have a heart attack, i hope i don't scare you again, not like that one time after hot sauce promotions ended.. your face was hilarious, i'm sorry for that one baby, i was really just trying to surprise you.. anyway, tour picks back up in february, so we have time to be idiots and go on stupid dates, get chased down by the staff.. okay maybe not that, the last time they almost caught us was funny though. alright um— just wanted to tell you i'll be back soon! i'll make sure to pass by a convenience store and get you ice cream, and yes i'll remember to get cookie dough this time, still not sure what you have against strawberry..alright that's it! i'll see you soon, i love you!!

[zzoomacroom]

Live a Little

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Dreamling, One Shot, Fluff, Smut, Angst, Friends to Lovers, 6500 words

Late entry for @mr-sadman's Dreamling Week 2024 (Day 1: Indulgence, First Time). Also for @dreamlingbingo (Square A3: Friends to Lovers)

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Summary: Dream needs to be convinced that he’s allowed to indulge, to want, to live. Hob shows him some of the little things that make life worthwhile: good friends, good wine, fancy chocolate, and amazing sex.

Rating: Explicit

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics)

Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Additional Tags: Fluff, Smut, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Tension, Getting Together, First Time, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Oral Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Under-negotiated Kink, Dream has bad blowjob etiquette but Hob is into it, not beta read

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“Make yourself at home, my friend,” Hob says, ushering his oldest and dearest friend into the sitting room. Dream nods soberly and heads for the sofa, while Hob turns back towards the hall. “Back in a tick. I’ve got a nice Pinot noir I’ve been saving that I think you’ll like.”

Before his friend can launch into his whole “You need not trouble yourself, I have no need for sustenance, blah blah blah” spiel, Hob darts through the hall and into the bright, cluttered kitchen at the back of the flat. He uncorks the wine and crouches down to rummage through the cabinets, hauling aside dishes and cast iron pans that would almost certainly be considered antiques by now. He knows they’re around here somewhere…

“Ha!” Hob makes a little noise of triumph as he retrieves the pair of dusty earthenware cups that he’d bought at an art fair a couple decades back. They’re handmade and painted in brilliant blues and greens, and the small bumps and imperfections on them remind him of the Border ware dishes he had owned back in the mid-16th century (minus the lead glaze, presumably).

Hob gives the cups a quick wash and dries them off before pouring the wine. He’s learned the hard way that Dream is not a fan of glass drinkware these days. When his friend explained the reason for this sudden aversion, Hob’s heart had shattered like the brandy snifter that Dream had dropped minutes before. Afterwards, he had gone through and purged his flat of wine glasses, glass bowls, and anything else that even vaguely resembled the prison Dream had described. Not just for his friend’s sake, but for himself; he doesn’t want that reminder either—the thought of his dear stranger, trapped, alone… If Hob had known…

God, if only he’d known…

Anyway. The point is, he’s been sticking with coffee mugs since then. But he can’t serve fine wine to the King of Dreams and Nightmares in a “Shag of the Century” mug, even if it does feel hilariously apropos, so it’s lucky he remembered these. The flat’s a bit of a mess as it is and he doesn’t want to come across as too much of a slob.

Hob hadn’t expected his old friend to drop by today. Well, to be honest, he never expects it, but he’s always thrilled to see him. Ever since they broke their centennial tradition with that first meeting at the New Inn, Dream has started visiting more frequently. At first it was brief, sporadic meetings at the pub, but he gradually started to come around more often, much to Hob’s delight. He’s shown up a few times when Hob was leaving work, instigating a riot of gossip among Hob’s coworkers and sixth-formers alike. Sometimes he visits Hob while he dreams, which had destroyed Hob’s entire perception of reality the first time it happened and still never ceases to blow his mind.

Usually the two of them come up to Hob’s flat, ostensibly to watch a movie or so that Hob can show off whatever new gadget he’s acquired, but the truth is that he wants Dream’s attention all to himself. Hob has always been a selfish, greedy man, and he can’t help but covet this precious time spent together. One never knows if the next Will Shakespeare is lurking in the pub.

He can never predict exactly when his friend will show up, but these days it seems like hardly a week passes without seeing him. So it’s odd that this is the first time he’s been by in over a month. Hob had noticed right away that something was troubling him; Dream seems even more distant and shuttered than usual today, and so Hob had herded him upstairs the moment he walked through the door.

He’s trying very hard not to be a mother hen, but in fairness the pub was starting to get crowded, and Hob knows that his friend is not fond of the noise. He’s just being considerate, he tells himself. Yes, he’s missed him desperately these past few weeks, and yes, the worry that he’d been captured again has consistently been in the back of Hob’s mind. But he has to rein it in and play it cool, lest he trigger another incident like 1889. He knows how lucky he is, how spoiled he’s become, getting to see Dream so often after having gone a century (or more) between meetings. So he knows he’s being a bit silly, getting so antsy after only a month apart.

Still. He worries.

(Continue reading below or on ao3):

Hob returns to the sitting room, wine bottle in one hand and the two cups balanced precariously in the other. He stifles a gasp and nearly drops them when he sees his friend perched on the sofa, having evidently vanished his coat and shoes back to the Dreaming, leaving his feet and arms bare. Hob simultaneously feels like a prude and a pervert as he drinks in the rare sight of that flawless ivory skin.

Then his heart swells with fondness—Dream has actually attempted to make himself at home, like Hob offered. “Attempted” being the key word; he does rather look like he’s sitting in a waiting room instead of on his friend’s sofa. Like he’s not sure how comfortable he’s allowed to get. Hob wants to make him comfortable, wants to wrap him in soft blankets and feed him soup and make him understand how fiercely loved he is.

Steady on, Hobsie. Get a hold of yourself.

Dream looks up from the worn copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy he’s been thumbing through, and if Hob didn’t know any better he’d say there was a faint blush blooming on his perfect cheekbones.

See, that’s the elephant in the room: the ever-present sexual tension between them has been at an all-time high lately. Obviously, Hob fell in love with Dream the second he laid eyes on him—how could he not?—and occasionally, over the centuries, he’s felt a spark of… something, from his stranger (that look he’d given him in 1789 being the most flagrant example). And he’s been feeling that something more and more often these days.

Maybe he’s just a lovesick, hope-stricken old fool, but Hob has a sneaking suspicion that his feelings for his friend are, at least to some small degree, reciprocated. Hob is sure as hell not going to make the first move; he cringes as he remembers how that had gone the last time he tried it. But it’s alright. He can be patient. He has been patient. And if nothing ever happens between them, well, that’s alright too. This easy companionship that they’ve developed is more than Hob could have ever hoped for, and he considers himself a lucky man indeed.

At least that’s what he tells himself.

“Here we are, my friend.” Hob hands one of the cups to Dream—the blue one that matches his eyes—and settles beside him on the sofa, stretching and making a point of putting his feet up on the coffee table to signal to his friend that he’s allowed to relax. And he does seem to get the hint, his shoulders easing down a fraction as he leans back into the cushions. “To life,” Hob says, tilting his cup Dream’s direction. Dream responds with a small, slightly pained smile and gently clinks his cup against Hob’s before taking a sip, humming appreciatively as he drinks.

“Good, eh?” Hob grins, thrilled that his friend is enjoying it.

“Indeed. This is a fine vintage. I thank you for sharing it with me,” Dream replies solemnly.

“I can’t think of anyone better to share it with,” Hob says, perhaps a bit too earnestly, and Dream’s blush deepens ever so slightly. “So,” Hob clears his throat, “what have you been up to, my friend? It’s been a while since I saw you last.” Dream stiffens at that, and Hob hastily adds, “If you want to talk about it, that is. You don’t have to.”

Dream takes another long sip of wine and shakes his head before speaking. “I was with family. I spent some time with my youngest sister, as well as some other relations. One whom I had not seen in centuries, and. Another. With whom I had not spoken in millennia.”

To Hob’s credit, his mind boggles only a little at that. “Well, that’s nice, isn’t it? Family reunion and all?”

Dream makes a small noise—of agreement or skepticism, Hob couldn’t say—and looks away as he continues to drink his wine. It’s obvious that something has happened; Dream seems… hopeless. Resigned. To what, Hob doesn’t dare guess. Dream doesn’t seem inclined to share more at the moment, and there’s a beat of awkward silence as Hob fumbles through his mind for a new topic of conversation. He’s mentally reviewing his day for any interesting stories to tell when he notices his friend staring at the small box wrapped in gold paper on the coffee table, seemingly lost in thought.

Hob springs forward and opens the box, nudging the chocolates in Dream’s direction. “Oh! Where are my manners? Help yourself to those. Some of my coworkers got them for my birthday—well, what they think is my birthday.”

Dream blinks at him. “I do not need to eat.”

Hob chuckles. “Nobody needs to eat chocolate. It’s purely for pleasure. You don’t need to drink this very good wine either, but you’re enjoying it,” he points out, topping off both of their cups to underscore his argument. “And I bet these would go great with the Pinot.” He takes a vanilla cream-filled one for himself before pushing the box closer to Dream. “Go on, they’re quite nice. It’s the expensive stuff. I think that one’s caramel, and that’s a raspberry cream…”

A tiny smile creeps over his friend’s face as he speaks. “My sister is fond of those. Or. Something like them.”

Hob is immensely curious about these family members Dream keeps mentioning, but he doesn’t want to pry; he knows by now that if Dream wants to share something with him, he’ll do so in his own time. “Well, please, have as many as you’d like. I’ll never finish them all before they go stale, so you’d be doing me a favor.”

“I do not usually. Indulge,” Dream says, though he is still staring (longingly, one might almost say) at the cocoa-dusted confections.

“You mean to tell me you’ve got the entire Dreaming at your fingertips, and you don’t indulge in all the lovely things you’ve made? That, my friend, is a tragedy.” Hob smiles and shrugs. “Well, if you won’t indulge yourself, then why not indulge me? I won’t make you eat them, of course, but…” he takes a bite of the bonbon (it really is good, even if it’s a bit too sweet for his taste), “you’d be missing out.”

The gloom that had earlier enshrouded Dream seems all but dissipated, and Hob can’t help but notice the way his friend’s eyes flick to his mouth, the starry voids of his pupils blown wide. Hob is considerably flustered himself right now, but he manages to give his friend what he hopes is a roguishly charming wink.

Dream glances down, his cheeks reddening further. “Very well. If you insist,” he says primly, like he’s doing Hob a favor as he delicately plucks a milk chocolate truffle from the box. And he is doing him a favor; Hob already counted it as a win that he was enjoying the wine, and this is just… well, the icing on the cake. Hmm, maybe he can get him to try cake next time…

Hob loses his train of thought as he watches his friend bite into the chocolate. Dream’s eyes widen before fluttering shut, and the moan he lets out is downright sinful. It’s enthralling. Hob is in trouble.

Dream keeps his eyes closed while he savors the confection, his tongue darting out to lick the powdered cacao from his petal-pink lips. He swallows audibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and Hob shivers as he envisions…

No. Now is not the time. Keep it together, old man. Hob shifts and crosses his legs, vainly attempting to ignore the heat pooling low in his belly and the subtle tightening of his trousers.

“Thank you, my friend,” Dream murmurs, glancing demurely at Hob. “They are. Nice. As you said.”

“Of course. I’m glad you like them,” Hob beams. “Help yourself to more. Anything I have, you’re welcome to,” he adds, gesturing vaguely around the flat.

Dream stares at him for a long moment, with a hunger in his eyes that brings to mind that look, the one he’d given him in 1789. There’s something else in his expression, though. Something sad. But before Hob can attempt to decipher it, Dream schools his features, once more a mask of emotionless detachment (except for the telltale flush that has now spread from his cheeks to his ears and neck).

They’re sitting quite close together on the sofa, Hob notices. Had he scooted over without realizing, or was that Dream? There’s no body heat, no familiar human scent coming from his friend, but Hob can feel a strange sort of energy emanating from him—something like static electricity. Like the heavy, expectant stillness that comes before a storm.

Dream slowly, hesitantly reaches for another piece, and as he leans forward their thighs brush together ever so faintly.

Hob’s breath hitches.

Although they’ve been meeting regularly for a couple years now, they have never so much as shaken hands. This is unprecedented.

Hob exhales shakily, and he can’t hold back the embarrassing little noise that escapes him. He tries to disguise it as a cough, but Dream freezes and draws back suddenly as if he’s been bitten.

“It’s alright,” Hob says softly, almost a whisper, like his friend is some skittish wild beast who might flee at any second (actually, that’s about the size of it). “Have another one.”

Dream shrinks back into the sofa, looking suddenly rueful. “I should not.”

Hob laughs nervously. “Now don’t tell me you’re trying to watch your figure, because you’re already…” he splutters and trails off, tugging on his earlobe as a prickling heat creeps up the back of his neck.

Too much. Stupid. So bloody stupid, just shut up.

He hasn’t had nearly enough wine for his mind to be so fuzzy and his mouth so loose. So why can’t he get a grip?

"It’s just—I mean,” he goes on, his treacherous mouth continuing to prattle on despite his brain’s feeble protests, “my point is, it’s alright to indulge. You of all people deserve to indulge. And I offered, so… please. Take what you want. You’re allowed to want things, Dream. And you deserve to have what you want. And—and I know, you can conjure anything up out of dreams and stardust. But even so. I just… I want you to know that anything I have, anything I can offer, however trivial, it’s yours if you want it. And it’s just chocolate and wine, eh? So… why not live a little?”

Hob looks up, apparently done with his ramble, to find Dream staring at him, his head cocked in that adorable way of his. His lips are parted slightly and his eyes shine with unshed tears.

Oh, brilliant. Great fucking job, Hobsie. Just don’t know when to quit, do you?

“Hob,” his friend begins, his voice a deep rumble of distant thunder, more of a feeling than a sound. “You are very generous. More so than is wise, and far more than I deserve. But I am afraid that your generosity may be. Misplaced. You say that I should ‘live a little,’ but. I am not… alive, in the way that you are. I do not live. I simply… am.”

Hob stares at him, dumbfounded, while his heart breaks into a thousand pieces. That… is the saddest fucking thing Hob has ever heard in the two-thirds of a millennium that he’s been alive. It all makes sense now. That’s why Dream has always been so interested in the mundane minutiae of his life. He’s been living vicariously through Hob, and all the while he’s got no life of his own. Just… existing, not living, for billions of years, and on and on until the end of time.

But that’s not true, is it? No. Hob rejects the entire premise. Dream may not be a living, breathing human, but he’s a person. And he does so have a life; he’s got a family. He’s got friends. If nothing else, he’s got Hob. He’s more than just his bloody function that he’s always going on about. Hob wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Tell him that he can live, he must.

Hob’s mind is already racing with ideas—he’s going to have to up his game; they can’t keep meeting at the pub or in Hob’s flat. There’s so much more out there to do and see. Maybe, instead of living vicariously through him, Hob can convince Dream to do some living with him. Not like that… Just. Bucket list-type stuff, even though neither of them can die. Although he doubts Dream would go for it; the mental image of his dear friend skydiving is as far-fetched as it is hilarious.

Of course, he doesn’t dare say any of that. He’s sure he’s already overstepped with that unhinged rant he just went on. He ought to quit while he’s ahead and drop the subject before he offends Dream. Still, it’s impossible not to notice the way Dream has been swaying closer to him over the course of this conversation. The way the air between them seems to crackle with electricity.

“Nevertheless,” Dream continues, “I am grateful for your kindness. Thank you, my friend.”

"'Course,” Hob murmurs. “Like I said. Anything I can offer, it’s yours. So… what do you want?”

Dream falters for a moment and seems to be intensely focused on picking at a nonexistent loose thread on the hem of his t-shirt. “I… I must confess that I do not know what to say. When you ask me this. It is not in my nature to want; desire is the domain of my sibling. It is not within the purview of dreams. I do not live, nor do I want.”

“Bullshit.” The word spills from Hob’s mouth before the thought even crystallizes in his mind. Dream looks stunned and a bit offended, though more confused than anything else. He’s not getting up and storming out, though, so that’s a good sign. He’s frowning, but still watching Hob intently, like he’s curious as to how Hob will follow up that little outburst. Hob is curious where he’s going with this, too; apparently, sitting this close to Dream has caused his brain to short circuit, and now his mouth is running on autopilot.

Ah. Right. Better keep talking, then.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I shouldn’t have said that. But… I mean, obviously you wanted that chocolate. And you want to be here, or you’d have left already.” The furrow between Dream’s brows deepens as Hob speaks, and he clenches his jaw tightly. Oh, for fuck’s sake, don’t give him ideas. Dial it back, old man. “But that’s alright! Really, it’s fine! More than fine! I—I don’t know about this sibling of yours, but… it just seems to me like you do want something, my friend. And whatever it is, if it’s in my power to give it to you, that’s what I want. So… what do you want?” he asks again.

Dream hesitates, gazing at Hob with those fathomless blue eyes as he appears to genuinely consider the question. He’s sitting so close that Hob can see his own reflection, blurry and distorted, mirrored in the glossy sheen of tears that rests on his friend’s dark lashes.

Finally, he seems to make up his mind. He swallows and leans closer still, his face mere inches away from Hob’s. Hob ceases breathing as a perfect, pale hand snakes upward at a glacial pace, coming to rest on his stubbled cheek. It’s smooth and cool, and Hob’s eyes drift shut as he leans into the touch. Then, impossibly soft lips are brushing against his own, and Hob lets out a muffled sob as one hand flies to Dream’s waist, the other gripping the back of his neck and pulling him closer.

Dream’s tongue probes gingerly into Hob’s open mouth, and lightning sparkles behind his eyelids. His heartbeat is a rolling crash of thunder as the clouds finally break—kissing Dream is like the first rain after centuries of drought; cool and sweet and refreshing and vital. Hob didn’t realize how parched he had been for so long, how desolate the desert of his soul, until this. This perfect kiss. It’s soft and slow and tastes like chocolate and red wine, and this—this may be what finally does Hob in after all these years.

Or it could just be that he hasn’t taken a breath in almost a full minute.

He pulls back, gasping and panting as he rests his forehead against Dream’s. Words fail him—a rare occurrence for Hob—and all he can do is grin stupidly at his friend.

“You,” Dream answers finally. “I want you, Hob.”

Hob lets out a wet, trembling laugh. “You’ve got me, Dream,” Hob whispers. “You’ve always had me.”

Dream surges forward to kiss him again, bolder and more eager this time, and Hob allows himself get swept away in the deluge. He could stay like this for hours—forever, even—and a needy whine escapes him when Dream pulls away again and surveys him with a smoldering gaze.

“Take me to bed, Hob,” he purrs.

“Oh, darling, absolutely,” Hob replies, scrambling up from the sofa and taking Dream’s hand to lead him to the bedroom. Then he freezes, struck by a sudden thought. “Er, quick question first. Is this really—I mean, am I awake right now, or…?”

Dream’s red, kiss-swollen lips twist into a fond smirk. “You are awake, Hob. But would it make any difference if you were not?”

“No,” Hob chuckles. “No, I s’pose it wouldn’t.”

Minutes later, they are entangled on Hob’s unmade bed, exploring each other hungrily with hands and lips and tongues and teeth. Hob is naked from the waist up, Dream having torn his shirt from his body with a fierce, otherworldly strength that was so startlingly arousing that Hob can’t even complain about the loss of his favorite button-down.

Dream sinks his delicate fingers into the thick pelt on Hob’s chest, humming approvingly into his mouth as he grinds against Hob’s thigh. Hob can feel his arousal through the soft fabric of his trousers, and he dips his hand beneath the waistband to squeeze the meager flesh of Dream’s arse. Dream goes still and inhales a sharp breath that Hob knows he doesn’t actually need.

“Hey. You alright?” Hob asks, withdrawing his hand and soothing it over Dream’s shoulder. “Sorry. I should have asked first. I know—after what you went through… I get it. We don’t have to keep going, love. Or we can, and you can keep—”

Dream cuts off his nervous babbling with a kiss. “I wish to continue. I trust you, Hob.”

Hob thinks he might explode from the affection that swells in him at those words. He beams at Dream and steals another quick, fervent kiss before peeling off his shirt.

“Look at you,” he breathes, drinking in the vision before him—Dream is utterly flawless. A marble statue come to life with creamy-white skin and elegant collarbones that flow into lithe, graceful shoulders and lean, well-muscled arms. “You’re so fucking beautiful I could cry, Dream,” Hob says raggedly as he runs his hands over smooth plane of Dream’s chest, circling his thumbs reverently around the firm, pink buds of his nipples.

Dream sighs and closes his eyes as he arches into Hob’s caress, dragging his fingers through the wealth of hair on Hob’s chest and continuing downwards, tracing the narrow trail down to the waistband of his trousers and unbuttoning them with nimble fingers.

Hob quickly shuffles out of his trousers and pants, groaning as his erect cock springs free. Dream’s eyes darken, the sky-blue of his irises nearly eclipsed by starry black as he (sweet Christ in heaven) licks his lips. “Hob,” he rumbles, his voice even deeper and silkier than usual. “You are. Exquisite.”

A laugh bubbles up from Hob’s throat unbidden. “Sorry. Sorry, it’s just—hearing that from you is… I mean, I can’t believe this is really happening, it’s like—”

“Hob,” Dream interrupts, raising his eyebrows and lifting his hips emphatically.

“Right. Sorry,” Hob says, bending down to unbutton Dream’s jeans. But just as his hand brushes over the zipper, the trousers vanish, leaving Dream totally nude with Hob’s hand just millimeters away from his flushed, heavy prick. “Someone’s eager,” he smiles, taking him in hand and gently stroking the delicate, velvety flesh. “Gods above, Dream, you have the most gorgeous cock I’ve ever seen.”

It really is lovely—long and slim and rosy, all wreathed in soft black curls. Even his balls are pretty; plump and pert and perfectly round. Hob wriggles down the bed and nuzzles into the hot, solid length, relishing the weight of it on his face. He licks from the base to the tip, laving his tongue over the leaking slit before mouthing his way back down to his balls, sucking on each of them in turn. Above him, Dream breathes heavily and lets out quiet little whimpers. Hob strokes his thighs—he’s so tense, his muscles taut as a bowstring beneath his silken skin.

“Relax, darling,” Hob says, placing a kiss to the bony jut of his pelvis. “I’ve got you. Just let go and enjoy yourself.” He returns to his task of exploring Dream’s cock with his tongue, and Dream takes a long, quivering breath, loosening a fraction as he exhales. Hob can’t help but feel a bit smug at the knowledge that he’s gotten Dream so worked up he’s apparently forgotten he doesn’t need to breathe. “That’s it, love. Let me take care of you.”

He takes Dream’s bollocks into his mouth again, then moves lower to give a tentative lick to his hole. Dream gasps and startles at that, and Hob hears a choked-off “ah!” somewhere above his head.

Hmm, interesting.

Hob raises his head to see Dream looking down at him in wonder, mouth agape and eyes glazed. His cheeks are flushed a deep rose, and glistening drops of pre-cum decorate the alabaster plane of his abdomen. Hob smiles up at him, tracing a finger around the tight, twitching furl of muscle. “Has anyone ever touched you here before?” he murmurs.

“No,” Dream replies in a trembling whisper.

“May I?” Hob asks gently?

“Please,” Dream sighs, and Hob nearly comes untouched on the spot.

He slides a pillow under Dream’s hips and pushes his thighs upwards, gliding his hands along the smooth white flesh and trailing light kisses down to his spread arse cheeks. “Gonna make you feel so good, love. Just promise you’ll tell me to stop if I do anything you don’t like, alright?”

He glances up to see Dream nodding frantically, his eyes wide and black and glittering. “Yes. I trust you, Hob,” he says again.

Hob grins before diving in and licking a stripe from his entrance to his bollocks and back down, circling his tongue around the rim and nibbling at the tender pucker of milky skin. Dream moans and keens beautifully as Hob thoroughly slicks his hole with saliva, slurping and suckling and reveling in the sensation of Dream’s hairless, baby-soft flesh against his cheeks and chin. He dips his tongue inside, and Dream wails while Hob hums and groans enthusiastically. Dream is hot inside, and he tastes of petrichor and electricity and something Hob can’t identify but that he knows down to the very foundations of his soul (dreams, his mind supplies. He tastes like dreams).

“Hob!” Dream gasps, his voice rough and rasping. “Please—please—!”

Hob works his tongue in deeper, then pulls back and jabs it in again and again, until Dream is mewling and sobbing and writhing in ecstasy. He thinks he doesn’t want? I could teach him to want. Eat him out for hours until he’s sobbing and begging to come.

Just as the vision materializes in his head, Dream howls and clenches around Hob’s tongue. “Yes! Yes, Hob, please please please—I want—ahh!”

Hob has long suspected that his old friend could read his mind, and this all but confirms it. He shivers as he realizes the potential there—the possibilities are, well, endless. Hob withdraws his tongue and glances up, only to be met with the most beautiful sight he’s ever witnessed: Dream, red-faced and panting, his chest heaving, his lovely prick rock hard and leaking steadily against his porcelain stomach.

“Look at you. So bloody gorgeous,” Hob says hoarsely. “How are you feeling, darling? Good?” Dream nods, and Hob smiles and nuzzles against the back of his thigh. “Be a dear and grab the lube? It’s just in the top drawer there.” He tilts his head in the direction of the nightstand and Dream twists around to procure the half-empty pump bottle.

“It is not necessary,” Dream mumbles once he’s remembered to catch his breath, though he nonetheless hands the bottle over. “You cannot hurt me.”

“I know,” Hob replies lightly, shrugging one shoulder. “All the same, I’d prefer not to risk it. Indulge me.”

Dream’s lip quirks and he huffs a tiny laugh before settling back onto the pillows, graciously allowing Hob to continue. Of course he’d be a pillow princess, Hob thinks fondly as he squirts a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, spreading it over Dream’s puffy, fluttering hole. He works a finger inside slowly, and Dream makes the sweetest little noises as Hob strokes his tight, satiny walls and brings his other hand to Dream’s throbbing cock. Dream moans and arches upward into his hand, sighing in relief as the tension begins to bleed from his body.

“That’s it, darling. You’re doing so well. Just let go,” Hob coos. He adds a second finger and finds Dream’s prostate, brushing over it teasingly on every other thrust. “You feel so bloody good inside. Would love to fuck you sometime. Want you to fuck me, too. I could ride that beautiful cock of yours all day. Would you like that, love?”

“Yes—Hob—anything—please!” Dream cries breathlessly, grinding down wantonly on Hob’s fingers.

“Mm, we’ll work up to that. Right now I’d like to get my mouth on you, and you’re not going to last much longer, are you sweetheart?”

“I can—” Dream begins what would no doubt have been a devastating retort, but it tapers off into a high, quavering whine as Hob lowers his mouth to his cock, sinking down in a slow glide until he can feel the bulbous head in the back of his throat, trickling a warm rivulet of pre-come. He swallows, and Dream’s hands fly to his hair, gripping tightly as he starts fucking furiously into Hob’s mouth. Hob groans and ruts his own aching cock against the mattress as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of Dream’s slick, clutching entrance. It’s raw and rough and animalistic, and Hob is more than happy to let Dream use him however he pleases right now; he might come just from this.

With no warning save for a guttural growl and a stutter of his hips, Dream comes down Hob’s throat in thick, hot spurts. He shudders and gasps, tugging roughly on Hob’s hair before abruptly going limp and boneless. Hob swallows down the last drops of spend and slowly pulls his mouth and fingers away, panting raggedly.

He crawls up the bed to wrap Dream in his arms, pressing gentle kisses to his neck and shoulders. “You did so well, love,” Hob whispers proudly. “So beautiful when you let go like that.”

Dream hums and grinds languidly against Hob’s still-hard prick where it rests between the cleft of his arse. He wriggles around in Hob’s hold and captures his mouth in a deep, desperate kiss. He trails his lips along Hob’s jaw, down his neck and chest, steadily traveling southward until he is face to face with Hob’s cock. It’s a bit shorter than Dream’s, albeit thicker, and darker-toned; not as pretty, in Hob’s opinion, though Dream would appear to disagree—he’s practically got hearts in his eyes as he glides his cheek along the hefty, engorged length. He glances hesitantly up at Hob through his thick lashes, looking almost shy.

“You don’t have to, love,” Hob smiles down at him, running his fingers through Dream’s downy, soot-dark hair. “I just wanted to make you feel good, is all.”

“Indeed?” Dream smirks. “I thought that you were teaching me to indulge. So. Won’t you indulge me?”

Hob lets out a delighted laugh. “Well, suppose I can’t argue with that.”

Dream makes a noise of agreement, then swiftly takes Hob’s cock into his mouth, swallowing him to the root in the blink of an eye. Hob gasps at the sudden velvety warmth enveloping his prick, and his hips jerk involuntarily. Dream stills him with surprisingly strong hands, pinning him down and bobbing his head in quick, fluid motions. Dream’s mouth is… fucking sublime. Christ’s bloody wounds, he’s good at this. Hob brings his hands to Dream’s hair, not pulling but stroking and kneading his scalp. Dream rumbles in approval, his deep moans vibrating through Hob’s cock, and Hob throws his head back against the pillows.

“Not gonna last,” he grunts in warning.

Dream only takes him deeper, hollowing out his cheeks and slurping hungrily as he bobs his head faster. Hob looks down to see Dream gazing up at him with a blissfully dazed expression, his forget-me-not blue eyes glassy and his cheeks streaked with tears. Hob is hit with a flash of deja vu; he’s fantasized about exactly this on many a lonely night over the centuries, though his imaginings never came close to the divine, earth-shattering perfection that is Dream’s mouth. He comes with a choked sob, flooding Dream’s mouth with a torrent of spend, and Dream’s eyes flutter shut as he swallows it down eagerly.

“I love you—!” The words escape unbidden in a breathless whisper, dragged forth from somewhere deep within the core of Hob’s being, unable to be contained any longer after being left unsaid for over 600 years. Hob doesn’t realize what he’s said until Dream freezes, tightening his grasp on Hob’s hips and digging his sharp fingernails into his flesh. Then, he’s crawling up Hob’s body like a tiger pinning its prey, steely eyes boring straight into his soul.

Fuck. Of course, had to go and fuck it all up, didn’t you?

“You mean that,” Dream intones, low and sonorous. It is not a question.

“Yes,” Hob replies softly, his voice wavering as he braces himself for the inevitable swirl of sand as Dream disappears.

Instead, Dream swoops down and captures Hob’s mouth in a savage, frenzied kiss, growling and digging his fingers possessively into Hob’s ribcage. He claims him with kisses and bites and scratches and bruises, descending on Hob like a starving man on a feast, and Hob is only too pleased to let Dream glut himself on him. Dream could devour him whole, if that would make him happy.

Once he has thoroughly left his mark, Dream runs his eyes over Hob’s body in apparent satisfaction before nestling into his side and draping himself over his chest. “I think,” Dream says, curling a tuft of chest hair around his long pale fingers, “that I feel the same. About you.” He buries his face in Hob’s neck, and Hob pulls him into a crushing embrace, beaming as he plants a kiss to the top of his head.

“So,” Hob laughs through joyous tears, “would you still say you’re just existing? Because I think we did a lot of living today.”

Dream huffs into his shoulder. “You make a convincing argument,” he concedes, his voice muffled. Then he raises his head to look at Hob, his eyes shining with amusement. “However, I believe I will need more evidence before I can draw an accurate conclusion.”

“Oh, just you wait, darling,” Hob grins. “I happen to be an expert on living, and I’m going to show you all the little things that make it worthwhile.”

Dream’s smile fades slightly at that. Hob brings a hand to his cheek, tilting Dream’s chin up and meeting him in a tender kiss. “Hey,” he whispers. “D’you want to tell me what’s been going on? It’s just… Clearly, something’s bothering you, love. And if there’s any way I can help… You know I’d do anything for you, Dream.”

“You have helped. More than you realize. And… I will tell you what has happened. What I have done. Not today, but… I will tell you. Though you may come to hate me for it,” Dream sighs heavily.

“I could never hate you,” Hob replies automatically. Because it’s true; he’d fallen arse over teakettle for Dream when he thought he was the actual devil. “Whatever happened, we’ll sort it out, eh?”

Dream simply stares at him for a long moment before speaking again. “What do you think happens to a character when their story has finished being told?”

“Er—” Hob doesn’t know what he was expecting Dream to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. Dream has him fixed with a piercing gaze, obviously awaiting a well-thought-out answer. “Well… I guess that’s up to the character do decide, isn’t it? Once the story is over, they’re free to do what they want, I suppose.” He shrugs. This discussion is far too deep for pillow talk.

Dream frowns, furrowing his brows as he considers. “I believe there is some merit to your words,” he pronounces thoughtfully. “I have long believed that I have no story of my own. Perhaps I am wrong.”

“Maybe you’re just in the wrong story,” Hob yawns. He’s honestly lost the thread a bit by this point, and he’s not entirely sure what they were talking about to begin with. But that feels like the right thing to say, and Dream evidently agrees as he rests his cheek on Hob’s chest, just over his heart.

“Perhaps,” Dream murmurs, almost inaudibly.

“Like I said,” Hob says, stroking lightly down his back. “We’ll sort it out.” He yawns again, then winces at the strain on his sore jaw. “Tomorrow, though. Because I am absolutely knackered, darling.”

Dream hums, burrowing contently into Hob’s hold. “Yes. Sleep, beloved. And dream of me.”

Hob chuckles drowsily. “I always do.”

✨✨✨

Thanks for reading! Reblogs, as well as kudos and comments on ao3 are always appreciated! 💗💗💗

[pettyprocrastination]

Okay hear me out.

Ghost and Necro drunk shenanigans. Potential to be hilarious, smutty and heartbreaking.

I’m prepared to have my life ruined by you. It would be my greatest honour.

(Alexa, play “In the Arms of an Angel, by Sarah McLachlan”)

this became more angst than drunken foolishness so I apologize but I hope you enjoy notheless!!

an: I played very fast and loose with the COD lore in this one. Imagining that task force 141 has a local base they stay/operate at between deployments/missions which im assuming is not the case. also that some of them go to a big formal event which is kinda a military ball but also a chance for networking asking for money yadd yadda. anywhoo

-----

     Simon doesn't drink. Not to the point of utter inebriation anyways. 

    He likes to be in control of his body. When the team inevitably drags him to the pub or he finds himself in a meeting with some staunch official that toast with whiskey for a “Job well done” he limits himself to two drinks so that he can always be aware of his surroundings. 

    He calls it risk calculation. You know that it’s from a memory he has yet to share with you. 

   That’s why the bourbon you gifted him still hasn’t been opened. An expensive bottle you handed him one night in his room with a halfhearted shrug of “work has been shit lately, though this would be nice.” That meant more than you said but he knew words like that were hard for you to force out, so he took the bottle and kissed your cheek, tucking it in the cupboard of his room on base until the proper moment to share it with you. 

     You decided to make that decision for him, evidently. 

    Simon opens the door to his room to find you sprawled out on his bed. Dressed in a floor length gown with one shoe kicked off, nursing the cup in your hand. You look up at him and for a moment he wonders if he had forgotten something important. 

     “You didn’t show up.”

     Ah, that. 

     Simon clicks the door shut behind him and steps toward you.

   ” 'Told you I wasn’t going to.”

     The military ball. 

     You take another sip from the bourbon and nod. “Yeah I know.” Simon shuffles forward, shoulders hunching down as he sits on the foot of the bed. 

     “But Soap was hoping you’d change your mind.”

     He hums. “Was he now?”  

     “Yeah.” You draw out the word ever so slightly as you speak. “He was hoping to catch a dance with you. But I told him he shouldn’t hold his breath, y’know? Didn’t want to get his hopes up.”

     Simon smiles. God you’re drunk. 

     “That was very kind of you.” 

     With gentle hands he undoes the metal clasp around your ankle and tugs your foot free from the last heel before running a scarred palm up your calf, squeezing and rubbing the muscle and making you melt in the process. 

     You stretch out with a content sigh. Simon notices the slit in your dress, stretching up to the mid point of your thigh. 

    “This is a nice dress.” He massages the tattooed skin of your leg and watches you grow pliant under his hands. ‘Y’know, Necro. You're like a cat’ he had told you one night, when the pair of you were the only ones awake. ‘all i need to do is keep you fed and rub you the right ways and you get all sweet on me.’ 

    “How come you haven’t worn this for me before?” 

     ‘But you also might scratch me to hell if I piss you off.’

     In a flash, you rip your leg from his grasp and turn around, curling up into yourself and spitting out. “I did. Tonight.” 

     You’re angry at him. He knows it despite the fact that he told you he wasn’t going to go and you said ‘alright’ without a single complain but now you're a brooding ball of drunken mumbles and sad eyes that he can’t seem to understand. 

     “For what it’s worth, I would’ve been a shit date.” 

     No movement. 

     “Don’t even own a suit.”

     “Then rent one, cheap-ass.” 

     Simon snorts. “Alright, you’ve got me there.” He pulls himself onto the bed completely, slowly laying himself down behind you and setting a hand at your waist. 

     “Can’t dance to save my life though. You’d have to deal with these monstrous fucking feet crushing your toes all night, love.” 

     Your unwrap yourself and let your hand reach out and intertwine with his. 

     “Maybe that’s what I wanted.” 

     Simon grins. “Yeah? You wanted me to step on your feet all night? Doesn’t sound very fun to me.” 

     “I wanted you to be there with me, Simon.” 

     Your voice is small. One that has always been strong with a command or dry with banter was now wet and trembling as if on the verge of shattering completely. 

    Simon pulls you to his chest and takes a shaking breath against your neck. 

   “I know, love. I’m sorry.” 

     Simon Riley imagines you at the ball and his heart breaks. 

     You're all dolled up, looking like a fucking dream to anybody who lays eyes on you but nobody at your side. Nobody for you to put a hand on their arm and drink champagne with. You stayed close to the others, he bet. Soap and Price taking turns on the dance floor, Price had rhythm and a subtle charm that would have you laugh and for a moment, you’d stop watching the door in hopes that he would show up. 

     But the night goes on your hope dwindles into nothing. 

     The truth is, Simon wanted to go. God he wanted to be there more than anything in the fucking world. 

     He wanted to rent a suit that would probably be a touch too tight because his shoulders were too big and get a haircut the week of because Simon wants to put int he work for you. He wants to walk in by your side and ignore the whistles and hollers of his subordinates, hold your tiny purse or whatever the fuck its called when you get a drink and spend the night dancing with you, despite his lack of rhythm but you’d smile anyways. At some point you’d slap his chest with a harsh hiss of “Simon we are in public” Because he kissed you with a bit too much tongue to be appropriate in a public setting but the dress you're wearing hugs your body so perfectly its drawn wandering eyes and he needs them all to know you belong to the fucking Ghost of task force 141 just as much as he belongs to you. 

     But he’s scared. 

    Christ, he’s fucking terrified. 

     To love you in public. To go out with you at his side meant letting the whole world know that he loved you and needed you and that put a target on your back. 

     Just as it did for Tommy and Beth and sweet little Joseph. 

     He knows your strong. Christ, he’s seen it with his own two eyes. You have just as much blood staining your hands as him but Simon has learned what life is with you in it and he can’t fucking go back to one without you. 

     “I’m not-” You take a shaking breath and sniffle. Fuck, he hates himself for making you feel this way.

     “I’m not good at this, Simon.” 

     He presses his lips to the small of your neck. If you feel his tears drop onto you, you say nothing of it and he’s grateful. 

     “Neither am I.” 

[melusinealarice]

in that case… could i request a member of his team reader and house fanfic abt house realising his attraction towards reader isn’t actually just sexual (they’ve been sleeping together for some time) but he’s actually in love with them. so he asks reader on a date, but they think he’s just joking and being an ass. so house has to go on a full on rant about how he developed feelings for reader and they just stand there in shock completely flustered (pls make reader say yes at the end tho 🙏💞) either gn!reader or fem!reader

this is totally ooc for him but whateva im a little delusional 🥰 in my head he’s my silly husband

Def delulu, but arent we all, anyways here ya go

Warnings: cursing, sexual themes,

Fem reader x dr house

You had been sleeping with dr. House for a few months now. It all started when you joined his team, while his rude comments usually repelled people, they attracted you. You found him hilarious as-well as insanely hot. Him being smart was a bonus as-well. He always made sexual comments towards you wich left you flustered more than anything. It all started one night when he was staying late and you came in to find him in a bottle of whiskey. It ended with you leaving his house before he could wake up. After that you both just would have casual sex, thats all it was. You never asked for anything more, even though you desperately wanted it, because you knew him, and he would surely mock you for it.

House’s POV:

I walk out of the on-call room, not even saying anything to y/n, this has just been our routine, she figured words would just make things complicated. I went straight to Wilson. “Wilson.” I said walking in, not bothering to knock. “What is it House?” He said looking up, “i think, I think Im attracted to y/n in more than just a sexual way.” i said, sitting on his couch, “what?” He asked stoping what he was doing. “I think, Im falling in love with her.”

Your POV:

Back to work, you just finished hooking up with House and now you had to go along your day, pretending you aren’t in live with him. No problem.

After the case you all were working on was solved you stayed back in the office while everyone else left. House was there, “so how about I buy you a drink, like a date?” He said, leaning against the door, pinning you to the wall. Shit, he knows, he knows you like him and he is making fun of you for it, who told him?? You scoffed trying to play it off, “ya know just because I like you being an ass doesn’t mean you have to make fun of me.” She said, trying to find away out of the situation. “Me? An ass? Never.” He taunted, you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help how much harder you were breathing, “whatever,” you said, wiggling out of the position you were in. “Im serious.” He said, staring at you, “I thought it was just sexual, i did, and ive tried to pretend it was, but god, you are so much more than that. Ive been falling deeper in love with you every damn second, and I want you, all of you. You are so beautiful and smart, and funny. And I want commitment and I want to take you on a date.” He said, his face was straight, he wasn’t joking. You stood there flustered, “really?” You said still in shock, he walked up to you and took your hands in his, “really.” He said. “Okay, lets go get a drink.” You said smiling up at him.

The end

Ok its kinda short, but im not the best at writing fluff, and it was super hard to do it with House without totally betraying his character.

[ac-liveblogs]

Munchen Bastard vs Manshine City: The Finale

This panel is inexplicably hilarious to me. Isagi reflects so calmly on that batshit match like he and Kaiser were being completely normal and reasonable. That was an average match. Nothing to see or comment on there.

Is it still a technical foul if the one you're assaulting is on your own team? Anyway.

...god, I want to see what Blue Lock TV has to say about that one. You know it's wild when Nagi and Reo go full uh... Nagi and Reo, and they're still not the biggest trainwreck ('most interesting') of a duo on the field.

Ego talking about Nagi's goal as a one-hit wonder is interesting, because I think he's right that Nagi will never be able to replicate it. Nagi could barely keep that same energy going for the match he was already in, let alone another one. Nagi, whose only real faults read as 'just less experienced than everyone else', seems to finally be getting a real flaw he'll have to work on - motivation. Which is interesting, right, given his motivation is supposed to be getting the world cup with Reo - but that's not a big enough driver to keep him really going? Episode Nagi's reframing of events seems mildly contradictory in that way. Guess we'll see how it goes.

Suddenly, Yukimiya. You know a guy is screwed when he starts saying shit like "god never gives you more than you can handle!" He can pretend he's gonna be a player all he wants, I don't think he's coming back in any major capacity.

Oh yeah, speaking of Isagi blasting past people regardless of their sad backstories, Sae is inevitably going to be Isagi's midfielder later, right? Because screw Rin, right? That's awesome, I can't wait.

I don't know much about soccer, but as a 'playmaker' who is very good at strategic passing, would Isagi be better off as a midfielder like Sae? Is that a criminal thing to say. I'm sorry. Isagi's just really bad at actually scoring goals lately. Maybe he should refocus. Since he apparently thinks he doesn't need any special moves to get one over on Kaiser, he might want to build the skillset he definitely already has. (amazed at Isagi's hyper-confident bullshit).

Kaiser just like. Ruined a goal. For his own teammate. Is that legal? Should it be illegal? Obviously this shit can only happen in Blue Lock but is it REALLY something sponsors are gonna like like. 'oh yeah that's a good team player that guy he'll work really well in a team', REALLY?

I guess teams only seem to consist of like max. four relevant people at any one time so what does it matter... the author only sometimes remembers Chigiri and Kunigami are around... particularly insulting for Kunigami all things considered.

Actually, it'd be so cool if Kira reappears after Wild Card as a final joker card boss or something. I'd love that. Please do that. I'll be sad if that doesn't happen now.

Just once, I want to see these jackasses go up against a really competent goalie. I want Kaiser Impact stopped dead. Just once. Please.

For real though, it does make their soccer feel pretty 'incomplete' that other players like that aren't really accounted for. These guys don't feel like they're training to go up against really competent defense or anything. Maybe the author just doesn't think it exists. I don't know.

Backstory: I played soccer for two years in primary school, and the first year I was defense. Our forwards were so competent the ball very rarely came anywhere near us, so I didn't have to be good or anything. It's not like I could do much if it did. So my soccer experience is entirely consistent with Blue Lock, but that doesn't mean I have to like it! Why are these pro athletes on the same level as me at age 10!

Ness is so funny. I want to see his Kaiser stan account's deranged blogging of the entire Blue Lock experience.

I love that Isagi thought so hard he passed out. "Metavision" is so funny.

One, why is Noa's bedroom some sci-fi alien ship. Two, why was Isagi taken THERE when he passed out. Did Ego just like. Not fund an infirmary? Is that where Blue Lock cut costs? I'd buy it.

Noa's just watching his team burn with a completely impassive face. Man he does not give a SHIT, I bet he's loving Kaiser getting assaulted by some random high schooler.

The idea that Ego ever actually played soccer is bonkers to me. Like, it makes perfect sense. But I don't buy it. Seeing that guy in soccer shorts will actually make my brain melt out my ears.

But of course Blue Lock, designed to attract/produce guys that are not even remotely normal about each other, was founded by a guy that is also not normal about another dude. Phenomenal stuff.

Bastard Munchen's sponsors watching Isagi and Kaiser brutalise each other on the field like "yeah we want that all the time actually"

I expected Shidou to rank much higher given his U-20 showing. How is he so much lower than Rin? Does Rin just knock him unconscious before every match?

If I were told I had the same worth as Ness I think I'd kill myself.

LET'S GO BAROUUUUUU

[beaker1636]

P is for Pearl Necklace - Vinny

AN: What's that? Double update today! Happy Smutty Saturday!

The next day at band practice the guys are all laughing at Chris, finding it hilarious that it was an accidental thing that made him lose his round.  Rick cracking a joke about how you’d think that Chris was the youngest member, the one who still lacks self control, earning him a water bottle thrown at him by Chris.

Vinny laughs watching the scene unfold, but refuses to pitch in with making fun of his singer, not wanting to make the man upset with him because it’s his turn to get a letter and he doesn’t want to make him go any harder on himself than he already could be.  He knows that sometimes it's better to shut his mouth, to keep quiet and that right now is one of those moments. Plus he’s focused on everything that is happening right now, the practice they are supposed to be having despite the fact that half the group is goofing around.  They haven’t played together in a couple weeks and need this before their performance at the festival tomorrow.

He is so glad when he hears Chris say something about focusing on practice, getting everyone back on track so that they can continue to work through things before tomorrow, luckily the festival is in PA so they don’t have to travel far for it, and can all spend the night in their beds.  In fact it has become a little thing, all of the girls have decided they are going to go as well so that it can be a fun little trip for everyone together.  

And now they are practicing again, Vinny in his element as he focuses on what he is currently doing, something that makes him comfortable.  He honestly just wants to get this done so he can go home, rest before they are stuck on the road tomorrow.  Luckily they finish running through the set list and feel comfortable enough to end it for the day, helping the crew load up everything on the trailer and now they’re just sitting around, having something to eat before they all leave.  

Chris stops after taking a sip of his water before glancing towards Vin.  “I’m in a decent mood right now so I’ll go easy on you, Pearl Necklace. Nothing that crazy or hard… mostly so you are well rested tomorrow.”

“Why does everything I get always have to do with oral? I swear to god, altoids, face sitting, now this…. “ Vin grumbles, looking down at his box of chinese food with a grimace. “I mean I guess it could be worse, it’s not like she’s never blown me but”

“You’re complaining all you have to do is get head.. Are you fucking nuts?” Ryan asks with a grumble, unable to believe it.  Why would Vinny complain he got something easy, what the actual hell is wrong with him?

“No, I’m just… I am glad I haven’t gotten anything crazy but I feel like I am missing out on some of the fun I guess..” Vinny answers honestly.

“Be glad….” Chris says with a grumble, thinking about last night again as he takes another bite of his food with a sigh.  “Okay, anyway, tomorrow just show me a photo of her necklace, yeah? You can hide her face and shit like just a close up but I want to see it to know you did it.” 

“Of course that is how you want me to prove it you pervert,” Vinny says with a groan, moving to throw his empty containers away before walking out for the night, ready to just head home.

Later

“Hey Lot,” Vin says as he makes his way into the house towards you, glad that you may not have officially moved in but you are pretty much living with him regardless.  He loves getting to come home to you at night whether it be your apartment or his.

He gives you a kiss, one of his hands resting on your cheek for a moment before he looks at you with a smile.  You still have your makeup on from work, look so pretty right now to him.  You always do but right now more than usual, maybe it's because you look so happy right now compared to how you have been lately, he isn’t sure but he loves it.

“You look beautiful tonight Lottie, I-I’m not sure what’s different about you today but you do look great tonight,” he says, leaving a kiss on your forehead while he pulls you into a hug for a moment, wanting to be close to you. 

“You sure you’re not just sucking up for your next letter?” You tease, knowing that isn’t what this is.  Here lately the two of you are closer than ever and it is honestly nice, the little trip has seemed to help and allowed both of you to express your true thoughts and feelings, brought you even closer together. 

“Well that too, but no, you genuinely look wonderful today.  I like it when you look happy, you always look beautiful but more so when you are happy.” He says with a smile before pulling away from you, leaving a slight squeeze on your ass through your jeans with a chuckle when you look annoyed.

“Go take a shower sweaty, then you can tell me your letter and we can get started yeah? Considering we all have a long drive tomorrow it’s probably better than waiting okay?” You ask, glancing at him for a moment. 

When he nods and starts to walk away you smile at him, happy that he seems to be in a good mood, that he is happy himself.  You were worried practice might not go well after a few weeks off, but it must have because he seems to be having a decent day. It makes you happy to see him in a decent mood, he looks cute when he's happy. 

You settle in his bedroom, taking a seat on the bed, reading while you wait for him to finish his shower. You get distracted while you wait, not realizing that he has finished his shower until he takes a seat next to you.  

Damp hair, in a clean pair of boxers and nothing else… fuck, your boyfriend is attractive like this. Or is that just the fact the romance novel you were reading just had a really smutty scene you just finished… or both?  Either way you shamelessly check out your boyfriend where he sits next to you, not caring if he notices.

“Like what you see?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips as you look over at him.  Catching you in the act as you let your eyes run over his body. Instantly making you flush and glance away, caught.

“Maybe I do, have a problem with that?” you ask, trying to sound more confident than you currently feel.

“I’d say do something about it… wait, I never told you what our letter is.  Chris was pretty generous, it's just a pearl necklace, and I know you know what that means because of the books you read.  Thing is.. After I give it to you I have to take a photo to show him.” He says, fingers ghosting along your thigh that is barely covered by the shorts you have on.

“Hmmm, okay.  I’m game,” you respond, settling yourself on your knees in front of him.  Looking up at him as you slowly ghost your hands over his little bit of the bulge that is starting to grow.  “It’s me paying you back for our letter F huh?”

You tease, lightly slipping your fingers underneath the band of his boxers enough to feel it but not enough to actually touch him, wanting to toy with him a little bit.  You’re feeling confident for once and it definitely shows.  You decide to lighty run your fingers along his length as you slowly slide his boxers down his thighs, your eyes watching his as you do.

You smile, realizing he's already hard for you and you’ve barely touched him. He’s always really responsive, ready to go for you and you love it.  Love that you don’t have to try that hard to make him want you.  You can feel his eyes on you as your hand wraps around him, lightly stroking him to bring him standing the rest of the way before you lower your head.  You tongue leaves teasing trails down the length of him before you then circle the head with it a couple times.  Happy when you hear him groan softly as you tease him, letting you know that you are getting to him, which is your goal.

“I’m getting to you aren’t I?” You ask, watching him as you continue to tease him.  

“Fuck baby, yeah you are,” he says softly, one of his hands threading in your hair to pull it back from your face so he can see you easier.

You finally wrap your lips around him as you slowly take more of him, moving a bit lower along his length as you slowly bob your head, not quite giving him enough and knowing it.  You want to see how far you can push him before he gets rougher with you, gets annoyed and takes over.  

The answer is not much, because he slowly uses his hand that is in your hair to gently push you down further, making you take all of him as you try to relax around him, gagging slightly but trying to control it the best you can for him as he slowly uses his hold to help you move along his length, but not enough to make it uncomfortable.  You still have a majority of the power here as you do as he wants, him not taking control from you quite yet but you hope that changes soon.

“Can I?” He asks you, you know exactly what he is asking and nod.  Backing away from him slightly so he has room to stand up and do what he wants to with you, you are just as excited about it as he is.

This time when you take him back in your mouth his hand in your hair holds you in place as he starts to rock his hips, working himself as he sees fit in your mouth, slowly at first but then going harsher.  Knowing that you can take his cock like a good girl and let him fuck your face with it as he sees fit.

“You look so pretty like that, tears running down your face as you try not to choke around me,” he praises, his thrusts getting harsher, finding himself growing closer.

There's something about seeing you down on your knees, so willing to let him use you for what he needs, how he sees fit that makes you that much more attractive to him.  Makes him want this that much more.

Eventually he stalls when he pulls you all the way down on him, able to feel your throat swallowing around him on instinct for a moment before pulling back, watching you closely as you choke on him.  Knowing that he has this power of you right now, you’re letting him do this.   That’s all it takes for him to fully go for it, now chasing his high as it grows closer and closer as he uses you, thrusting rather harshly now as he hits his end.  Quickly pulling out of you and holding your head back so that he can finish against your throat, meeting his end of the deal as he watches it slowly start to run down your body. Realizing he still needs his photo as proof he quickly takes the photo and then runs off to find you something to clean yourself off with, helping you do so as you move to sit on the bed. 

He also has a second damp washcloth that he uses to help you clean up the makeup that's now running down your cheeks from when you eyes were watering while you worked him over.  He gently takes the rag and does it to help you, wanting to help take care of you like you did for him. 

Sometimes it amazes you when he does this, how he can go from being rather harsh with you to so gentle in just a few moments but that is a part of why you love him. That he can go back and forth with you and keep you on your toes, be harsh with you and then remind you that he loves you. 

When he’s done cleaning you up one of his hands settles on your thigh again, slowly tracing patterns on it as he trails it up, glancing at you.

“Your turn.”

[charmingpplincardigans]

IT IS TIME...to make an old-fashioned embarrassing text post like those days of yore before my old therapist started doing CBT.

So, I started an OK Cupid account. It’s kind of a big step, and also something I’ve been joking about for more than a year. Just any time something funny or self-deprecating (or vaguely dirty) came up I’d be like ‘putting that on the OKC profile!’ In the end my OKC profile is pretty tame. Maybe too tame really. I should probably rewrite my bio so I sound nerdier and more romantic or something.

ANYWAY. The point is, it’s scary, knowing that in order to be loved you must submit to the ordeal of being known or whatever, but I took a tiny step which feels like a huge step after ten eleven years of singlehood and touch starvedness. Now I just need someone to message me so I can take another small terrifying step and meet them. And so on and so on. It’s just fear all the way down with me when it comes to intimacy. IT’S FINE. I EMAILED A POSSIBLE THERAPIST THIS EVENING.

Last weekend I met with a friend who just graduated library school and talked to her about how to find a job and such. It was cathartic, and also heartening. I really do have a lot of practical skills from the work I’ve been doing for fifteen years now. She said I have experience with things they didn’t even really learn in grad school, that she’s had to learn on the job. That makes me feel a little better. I still worry about how glutted the librarian market is up here, but there really are a ton of library jobs to apply for in all different industries, so I’ll probably find something that will pay me enough and not murder me eventually.

(My Indeed email today had a listing for a Digital Archivist for the MFA but the pay only went up to $49K??? THAT’S LESS THAN THE TOO LITTLE I’M MAKING NOW. God I’d love to work at the MFA though. CAN YOU IMAGINE? Do I just apply anyway and then be like, just kidding, I want $70K, thanks.)

I’ve also been using they/them pronouns at work with select people. Mostly with my boss and within the Queer ERG channels. And I guess with my grand boss, who guessed it all on her own through a series of slightly hilarious events. I’m not demanding anything, and I still have they/she in my signature because I hate rocking boats and know that I’m femme a lot of the time so I know how people will see me and I don’t want to fight with everyone ever about it and yada yada. Maeve says that’s stupid. She’s probably right, but like. Maybe if I find a new therapist they can help me work through that. I’ve been taking up more space lately, but still not as much as a person probably should.

Like I said, baby steps.

Anyway, my boss saw me list myself as they/them in an ERG meeting this morning and during our one-on-one later she said she was proud of me for all of the hard, scary stuff I’ve been doing lately. (Which she knows about because we talk about work approximately half the time when we talk.) It feels silly to be proud of it all, because most people do this at like, 20, right? All of it. Being able to date, knowing who you are, knowing what kind of job you want. But because she’s a good person she reminded me that when I was 15 and 20 I wasn’t in places where it was safe to make some of these decisions, or even if it was, I didn’t have the support for them. So yeah, I’m proud of it all.

In the last twenty-five years I’ve gone from suicidal to ambivalent to apathetic to super depressed to figuring it out to figuring it out to figuring it out. I’m still figuring it out. But I have an excellent support system. I have people who love me and want to know the whole me. Want me to know the whole me. I have tools to help myself emotionally. I have hope.

I can lament over the lost time, or I can look ahead with a mind to make use of all the time I have left. I maybe got here a little bit after everyone else. I may still be working toward it, but I’m here and I’m working. I’m doing hard, scary things, and that’s what being alive is all about, right?

[editorialsonlife]

HOW IS IT APRIL ALREADY

who wants a chaotic life update coz here we go

We just submitted an offer on a house in palmy, eeeeeeeek. So moving to a whole other city an hour and a half away from where we currently live. Likely to be accepted and have been working through all the admin for mortgage approvals and selling our current home and buying new up there. We’ll be going from a 90m2 house to a 200m2 house on a larger section - it’s going to be hilarious to live somewhere so massive.

Antidepressants are the best things in the world I should have done them years ago.

Work is a wild shitshow, thanks to a prime minister who can’t accept that running a country and a company are two fundamentally different things. Consequently, work is currently calling for voluntary redundancies and then will kick off a change process in May. Will I have a job come 1 July? Who knows. Current math suggests job losses for ~1200 people across our 3500 ish back office staff so watch this space.

Thanks to antidepressants, I can’t even be stressed about this. It’s amazing!!!

Dave got a solid bonus this year, which is amazing. They did it so tough last year through all the flooding and having clients on suicide watch and everything else and they really Fkn earned it so yay. Waiting to find out what his pay rise will be as well.

At least both of us can keep our current jobs when we move and just commute a couple of days a week ( I’m in denial about the reality of this but anyway)

Naturally my sister and her husband couldn’t possibly be left out so have also put an offer on a house up there but it was so impulsive and a really dumb choice but it’s been accepted so their only hope now is they can’t sell their current house.

Fuck I’m glad we don’t have stamp duty in this country.

I signed up for an online bootcamp class on zoom that’s 530 every morning coz let’s be real I ain’t doing nothing after work apart from collapsing in a heap and it’s been so fun! They are v much like, this is your first start back in a while these are your regressions we expect to see you using them and then don’t shame you for it either? And are just like, too hard? Don’t use weights then? And my god is it ever a relief for my poor overweight body to not be forcing it to move in ways it can’t and reminding myself that actually I can do pretty amazing things if I give it a chance and it’s just been such a massive mental win. Maybe over the next few months I might get my eating sorted you never know.

I signed up for it as a 6 week challenge kinda thing and I’m 99% sure I haven’t lost any weight which was not at all the point of signing up for it - it was proving to myself I could be consistent with something and I’ve achieved that so yay.

Dave and I are good which is lovely. Even started talking to the counsellor about all my sex hang ups which is deeply unpleasant and awkward but at least it moving things along a bit??? 🤮🤮🤮😬😬😬😳😳

Have I mentioned lately how good antidepressants are honestly?? I have my brain back and my personality and it’s wild.

We wanna start having kids this year? Also wild.

Had a birthday and now I’m 34 and somehow it’s April? I do not understand time at all honestly.

I fucking love my new doctor he’s actually the best I will not be changing when we move.

I’m excited for a slower, quieter pace of life and more chill. I’m honestly done with my girl boss era. I’ve made the money and chased the titles and it’s exhausting honestly. (Watch this change again rapidly)

I was away for 7 of 8 weekends across Feb and March and it was INSANE. weddings. TAYLOR SWIFT ERAS TOUR!!!!! Birthdays and friend birthday and mum and I went to Pink and other birthdays and it was way too much. Oh, and house hunting mixed in. Plus ya know, a full time job in the mix.

It’s been a Fkn massive start to the year, and she ain’t slowing down any time soon.

Antidepressants man. Wild the difference they have made to my life. WILD.

Happy and grateful for my life and everyone in it and all the madness that it is right now. Someday it’ll be chill right??? I’ve been saying that since 2019 at some point I’ll accept that the answer is no.

Cool cool cool what a wild ride.

[nikatyler]

Zeph 1.0

Almost there…yes I closed the game so I could get the 69 hours played screenshot…almost got it! 😅

I'm such a stupid 13yo at heart

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did i mention i love him

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Oof besties I think it's Moonrise time

Moonrise time over because ya girl is going to work tomorrow and it's getting late 🥲 but I so didn't want to quit the game today ugh

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Need to incorporate "let's not do anything hilarious" into my vocabulary because it's the biggest realest mood

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no way he approved lmao

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oh... OH

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forevermore? as in you and me forevermore? don't read the last page but i stay when it's hard or it's wrong or we're making mistakes omg a taylor swift reference!! 🤭🤭

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Zeph is looking so good in their new armor 😩

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Oh I'm gonna be reloading this fight a million times huh

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THIS WAS SO INTENSE WTF

Dude never thought I'd say this but Shadowheart carried this battle. I'm going to bed in game and irl because two intense battles back to back are too much for my anxiety 😭

This game is gonna wreck me isn't it

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So in the battle I had yesterday, Jaheira was killed, but I thought, well, it would be a shame to leave her stuff behind and she doesn't need it anymore, might as well take it…now I loaded the game again and notice she's there in just her underwear 😭 I'm sorry 😭😭

Yes I loot everyone and everything shamelessly, I learned from the best 🤭

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hole hehe

hole not hehe this is disgusting jfc

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"I could fix him" "I could make him worse" well I personally hope that *he* will make *me* worse

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We're not gonna talk about this party kill Nailed it! Took me three tries though 😂

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THIS GODDAMN PUZZLE I SWEAR TO GOD

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Big brain time

The f u c k?

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well i may have a few ideas how to use this one 🫢

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Well. I think I'll be starting act 3 tomorrow? 😬

(I'm excited but also nervous. Oh man this is exactly why I've never played this kind of games before 😂)

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I think I fucked up…I was going to do the crèche and the mountain pass stuff later but I can't anymore, I completely skipped it 😭 without too many spoilers, are there going to be bad consequences maybe?

I could pull up an older save but I've done so many other things already…I'm not sure if I want to replay them at the moment 🥲 Think I might just have to leave it for my second playthrough but it sucks that I completely skipped such a big part

And I know at some point it told me some things wouldn't be available if I continue but I didn't think it would be this 😭 I need clearer instructions y'all, I'm a dummy

This is ridiculous but I'm about to cry bc I missed such a huge part, I think I might go back to an older save and just redo everything idk 🥲 idk what to do 😭 overthinking this too much

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"magnificent bastard" is a wonderful gender tbh

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dude i'm not some fucking pokémon 💀

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oh god i love him 💀 is he wrong though?

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she's serving too much cnt to handle i'm afraid

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A fellow clown hater! 🤩

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ohhh i was looking forward to this line 😂

omg Zeph really went "so aren't you worried about that old master of yours? yeah? anyway wanna smash tonight?"

KJLFGKSJFGKLJL BRO??????? the fuck did i do to you

hello ?????????? ????? ??????? ???????? ??????? no genuinely i don't know what i did/did not do 💀 idgaf I'm handing his ass to Cazador

me and Zeph both rn

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delivery not guaranteed? that's so Česká pošta coded

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bears in the closet you say? what was halsin doing in your closet? 🫢

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not me actually accidentally making Zeph jump off of a very tall something

and right after the second short rest and the idiot took so much damage 💀

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Oh we're playing Among Us now, how fun!

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I fear this will be another full night of playing...not a good idea considering we're going on a family trip tomorrow but eh whatever

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We did it again besties, let's hope I'll get my sleep schedule back on track before I return to work 😂

But it was definitely worth it, I had so much fun playing today. Aside from essentially being dumped but I'm gonna clown and hope all will be well (no spoilers pls)…I promise I will be normal and not actually irl cry about it 🫢😂

Gotta love that rejection hypersensitivity that kicks in no matter what 🤩 real person, fictional, who cares, it hurts 🤩 (no really I'm okay, I'm exaggerating, you know me)

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Next time I go "hehehe I won't sleep tonight, it's gaming time", stop me please. I'm not built for this

And daylight savings are kicking in today? fk me rip my sleep schedule

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hehe god i wish

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oop

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I'm getting overwhelmed with all the quests jfc 😭 can we just skip to the part where I romance the vampire again

I also (and this is me overthinking again) can't help but feel like I'm playing the game wrong and that I'm ruining everything as I go and we will not reach a nice ending 💀

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WHY IS HE NOT WEARING MUCH KDAFJLAJKDFLKJ WHAT'S GOING ON I HATE THIS

What the actual f u c k was that

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[fanfic-scribbles]

Dinner Date Chapter 28

Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers has a girlfriend. A prickly, generally asocial girlfriend, but they make it work. They have more in common than some people might think.

Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 28: A Celebration of Life

Chapter Summary: Steve gets an early birthday present, and reflects on good things past and present.

Chapter Word Count: 4342

A/N: This frigging chapter. It took some work but I’m finally pretty happy with it, and I hope you all have fun with it too. Warning for the very end: there is a section marked ~extra~ that goes into third person, present tense from an outside perspective. It was a little experiment and if you don’t like it I don’t think you have to read it since it is slightly divorced from what this fic is actually about, but…it does hint at something that will come up again in the future. Not any time soon, judging by how much work this chapter took, but… :3 Anyways. Enjoy!

~

Watching Pepper on the phone was an…experience.

Steve was doing some Avengers stuff in the training room and he was late so I ended up waiting in one of the upper floors, because apparently leaving to chill at a coffee shop was ‘weird’ and ‘anti-social’ and the day Tony Stark got to brag about being a better-adjusted human being was the day I bit off my own tongue. So there I was, drink in hand, with Pepper for company, while Pepper was still technically working. Or something.

What could have been an unbearably awkward situation though became a masterclass in how a functional adult handled a difficult phone call. At least, I assumed it was difficult. I sort of hoped it was difficult because if this was what she had to deal with normally that was fucked. I tried not to stare, and she was far enough away, (in this giant room bigger than most city apartments), that words filtered in and out, and she danced the line between patient and patronizing in a way her voice kind of masked but her facial expressions betrayed. It was kind of hilarious, at points, but eventually her expression relaxed, her shoulders sank, and she said, “Thank you,” in a way only the truly tired could, and after a few more pleasantries she lowered the phone, let out a heavy sigh, and detoured back to grab something from the fridge before she came back to the sitting area.

“I am so sorry about that,” she said and fell back onto the chair next to me.

“Oh, no, don’t be–” I said and waved her off, only realizing that was my drink hand just before I could slosh liquid onto a couch that probably cost more than my rent, and quickly settled back down. “I’m sorry for crashing.” I could only bite my tongue so far though. “However, no offense, but Tony Stark doesn’t get to be right about anything, ever, if I have a say in it.”

“That’s the only right way to deal with him,” she agreed. She popped the tab on her can, whatever was inside fizzed, and she took a long drink. Even that looked refined when she did it. She breathed a sigh of relief. “In any case, I have most of his birthday sorted, so that’s one thing off my plate.”

I nodded. Tony Stark’s birthday would be a huge to-do– wait. “Wait.” Wait. “Didn’t…didn’t he just have a birthday?”

“I start planning well in advance,” Pepper said. She gave me a very tired look. “Do you have any idea how hard he is to shop for?”

“God I can only imagine,” I said, because even without the obscene amount of money…yeah. I had decided to err on the side of liking Tony Stark, (especially after he had that PR ‘snafu’ for going off on that asshole who had been snarkily homophobic about Steve), but he was, and probably always would be, A Lot. “That must be nice to have it all set up though. I just barely found something for Steve’s birthday.”

Pepper got a look on her face that felt familiar. Though whether that was a ‘Steve’ grimace or a ‘another fucking gift-giving holiday’ grimace I was a little unsure of. “Speaking of people hard to shop for…” She sighed and rubbed her head.

I could sympathize. Hardcore. “If you really want to get him something he’d be fine even with a nice message on a pretty card.”

She gave me a ‘seriously?’ look, so I said, “Seriously.” And I (seriously) thought about it. “Heartfelt can be hard though, so I get it. But he really isn’t fussy. Charity donation in his name? A ‘get out of PR jail free’ card the next time he pisses off Fox News?”

She seemed to consider it, but then shook her head. “What did you get him?”

I puffed up, because my gift was awesome. “Concert tickets for an act and opener he’s going to love, and I’ve planned out dinner at a place he hasn’t been to yet.” It was torture to have to wait on the second one, but it was going to be worth it. Pepper was right; Steve was awful to buy for and always insisted he didn’t need anything and I was about to score ‘best girlfriend ever’ points for at least a month. I could only hope the memory of this birthday would help ease the sting of the future gifts I was inevitably going to whiff it on.

“That sounds wonderful,” Pepper said. Calculating. I did not like that. “How good are the tickets?”

Yeah, I really didn’t like that. “They’re perfect.”

She smiled deviously. “I bet I can get you better ones.”

“Nuh uh, paws off,” I said and mimed smacking her hands away. “This is my gift. You go get your own.”

She faked a heavy sigh– the smile gave her right away. “Any suggestions?”

I shrugged. “Are there any art things going on?”

It was a sort of flippant suggestion– she seemed like a fancy, in-the-know lady, and fancy, in-the-know ladies would know about stuff like art shows. However, I realized we both understood it for the surprisingly good suggestion it was at the same time. A part of me was a little bummed I hadn’t thought to bank that for myself for another time. A bigger part of me though was pretty happy to look smart in front of Pepper Potts. Also being helpful to Steve’s friends was nice or whatever.

And by the near-glow of her eyes, she already had a good idea, which was going to be good for Steve, so I couldn’t be too upset about it. “That. Is genius.”

I shrugged and tried not to smile as hard as I wanted to. “I try.”

“Do you know what kind of art he likes best?” she asked, whipping out her phone and tapping at the screen with furious purpose.

“He varies a lot and I haven't delved into his absolute favorites yet,” I admitted. It seemed to change by the week sometimes. “He posts some stuff on social media and goes around there liking things. Though if I could say one thing, I would advise you to be careful of abstract. Some of it he really likes and some of it he really fucking hates and I have no idea where that line is.”

“It’s okay; this– I think he’ll like this. It’ll be a little early but…” she said and beamed at me as she held the phone up to her ear. ‘Thank you!’ she mouthed and walked off before starting a whole new conversation.

I shrugged and leaned back against the couch. Since it involved Steve, I’d probably find out why she seemed so excited soon enough.

~

A few days later counted for soon enough. “So,” Steve said, fake-casual as he slid onto the couch next to me. Why he bothered trying to attempt casual with that barely-suppressed grin on his face, I could not fathom.

“So,” I said and kissed him, because he really was too cute to resist sometimes.

“So,” he repeated, but slipped his arm behind me and cupped my hip in a way that told me we could continue that line of activities later. “Pepper got me two tickets to an art gallery I’ve been looking forward to,” he said, focusing again. “Opening night of a new exhibit. Would you come with me?”

“That sounds great,” I said. “Pepper doesn’t want to go with you?”

“She’ll be there, but she said she’s going to be networking,” Steve said. “This way we can come and go whenever we want. I’ve been to a couple of showings; most of the time the people there are too snooty to care about Captain America hanging around, but I’ve seen previews of the pieces that are going to be there and they look amazing…”

Steve continued to go on about some of the artists and that somehow led to lighting and negative space and tonality and I sort of lost the thread after a while but I couldn’t help it– interesting though it was, it was more interesting to watch him go off into his own little world, smiling so easily as he talked about art education videos he was watching and he was just so happy that I couldn’t help but stare at him and soak it all in.

When he took a moment to go to the bathroom, I snuck out my phone and opened up my text log with Pepper.

Me: A++++ gift giving he’s going to be excited all the way to it Pepper: Thank you for the excellent idea Pepper: I hope I’ll see you there? Me: Definitely

“Who are you texting?” Steve asked as he sat back down and pulled my legs into his lap.

“Pepper. I was just telling her she did a great job with your gift,” I said and put my phone down.

“Really?” He let out a sigh of relief. “I was afraid I was boring you already.”

“I like hearing you talk about it,” I said. “I like hearing you happy and excited.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s almost like I care about you or some bullshit.”

“Well that can’t be right,” Steve said, but he was smiling too hard to be serious. “You have a reputation and all.”

“Damn right I do,” I said, and opened my arms. “Now get over here and ruin it.”

His grin was a little more wicked for what I had meant by that but, well.

I definitely didn’t mind his definition of ruin.

~

Art parties had pretty great food.

Well, this one did. The drinks were a little substandard but I kept an eye on the waiters with the finger platters at almost all times as I wandered around with Steve who, true to his prediction, did not get glommed on at all. I also watched for snootiness but everything felt really oddly chill and relaxed and…nice. It wasn’t as fancy as I had feared, but it definitely still cleaved to the nice side, and we had dressed up accordingly, but everyone really did seem to be there for the art, which was also pretty awesome.

And then there was Steve. He mostly stuck by me as we wandered from piece to piece, and whenever the artist was around and willing to talk with him, he always took the chance. So far he had a hundred percent success rate in surprising them by actually knowing his shit, and that was kind of vindictively fun to watch. I hadn’t paid attention to the theming and was at the point where I was too embarrassed to ask, but it seemed like a new art take on classic pieces and movements of the past. Leyendecker through a Warhol lens which had a companion piece of Warhol but make it like Leyendecker. Art deco graffiti. Alphonse Mucha if his seasons were made in the era of global warming.

So it was pretty fantastic. And we even got to hang out with Pepper for a little bit, the three of us stealing away to a corner with a small pile of pilfered snacks and drinks.

“You really do find the best hideouts,” Pepper told me appreciatively.

“I take my duties as resident miser very seriously,” I said, and tried not to beam too much at the compliment. Steve was grinning at me though, and when Pepper was distracted by saying hi to someone, I threw a napkin at his face.

“I saw that,” she said, but with a wicked smirk. She then stood up and straightened the end of her form-fitting dress. “Steve, have you seen the hallway gallery yet?”

Steve and I both peered where she was gesturing; a very wide hallway with good lighting that not many people were going down now. “Not yet,” he said as we both sat back.

She smiled cryptically. “I think you should. There’s a really great artist– well, several of course, but there’s one with a piece in particular that I…I think you might like.”

She escaped with a quick farewell, and I munched on the last of the snacks. “Mysterious,” I said once I was dusting my hands of the crumbs.

Steve stood and held his hand to me. “Let’s go find out, Watson.”

I scoffed, but took his hand. “I’m way more of a social disaster than you,” I said as we walked. “I should get to be Sherlock.”

“Solving mysteries seems like a lot of work though,” he said.

“True,” I admitted.

We meandered leisurely down the hallway, looking at each art piece and leaving the scarce few people behind as we went. I remembered briefly looking down this area at the start of the night and thinking, ‘Nope,’ with the ridiculous amount of people that had been down here before, but apparently they had all seen what there was to see, leaving us to enjoy it practically on our own.

“This is nice–” I suddenly bumped into Steve. “Oof!” I quickly backed up a few steps and he remained. Stock still. “Steve?” I asked, but he was staring up at the wall to my right, his expression stricken, and I turned to see what had him by the metaphorical throat. It was a mural, massive, and it took me a second for it to all come into view. When it did, when the image of a man with a very familiar visage fell into place, all I could manage was a soft, “Oh.”

“Bucky,” Steve said in an awed exhalation. I looked from him, to the painting, and back and forth again. He seemed to be taking it all in and I had nothing I could think to say, so I did much the same. It was a beautiful work of art; colors faded seamlessly together and words of varying sizes acted as modified stippling to create the whole image of one James Buchanan Barnes, larger than life like a comic book hero, but with a serious set to his face, wearing the iconic jacket, and fading out where it looked like he’d be holding a gun in his arms.

After several minutes of utter silence, I tentatively rubbed Steve’s arm. He flinched a little, but gave me a small, slightly twisted smile. “Sorry,” I said. “I just wanted to make sure you were still breathing.”

He huffed a laugh, but his eyes looked a little wet and he blinked furiously. “It’s…I’m sorry; it’s…”

I squeezed his arm. “Hey,” I said softly. “It’s okay. It’s always okay and it’s always going to be okay.”

He swallowed and sniffled, but through sheer stubbornness did not let go of one single manly tear. Crying in public did suck though, so I wasn’t about to give him a hard time about it. I rubbed his arm up and down as comfortingly as I could, trying to help, and he moved slightly to take the hand I wasn’t using. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” he admitted softly, and gave me a weak smile.

“I know,” I said softly. I would have kissed him if I could have gotten away with it, but someone was walking down the hall towards us, so all I could manage was a brief but tight squeeze of his hand before I let go entirely, and he visibly tried to brace himself for the oncoming interaction.

“Hello!” a breathless woman said as she approached. She looked young but carried herself confidently, dressed in a stylish combination of pants, half-skirt, and suit-top, with locs in a beautiful half up-do that framed her face and cascaded down past her shoulders. “I was told there was someone who–”

As soon as she saw Steve, a lot of that confidence just evaporated and she froze with kind of an ‘urk!’ look on her face. As the seconds ticked on and Steve didn’t (probably couldn’t) speak, I squared up and hoped I wasn’t going to make a mess of things. I cleared my throat. “Are you the artist?” I asked. She looked at me, still a little frozen, but she managed a jerky nod and pulled her shoulders down from her ears. “It’s beautiful,” I said as emphatically as I could.

She seemed a little reassured, but her eyes flicked back to Steve, who was looking at it again. He swallowed and managed to look at her, a small smile on his face. “Absolutely amazing,” he said.

She exhaled such a long breath that I had to bite my hand not to laugh, while Steve was startled into doing just that. “I’m so sorry,” she said and waved her hand, relaxing a lot more as she walked closer. “My brother told me someone was standing over here but he didn’t mention who, and when I saw you, I wasn’t sure if it was uh…offensive?”

“In your brother’s defense, no one’s come that close so he probably didn’t get a good look at me,” Steve said, still a little dreamy as he looked at the picture. After a second though he frowned and looked at the woman, more focused. “Why would it be– it’s not offensive; it’s incredible. And I mean technically too; the way you…”

He drew closer to her, talking about the art itself, and she snapped into being a professional, talking to him, explaining the piece that was part of a series on the Howling Commandos, and I stepped back to let them have at it. I couldn’t keep from looking at the art itself again. I tried to imagine how I would think, if it was of Steve, if Steve had– but…I didn’t really want to think of that, right now, in the middle of what was actually Pepper’s birthday gift to him, meant to mark his life.

Though, I thought and tilted my head to see it from another angle, what a life. To make such a mark on the world that this many years after he was gone, an artist, a complete stranger, would spend however many hours of her life putting forth the effort to try and make him as large as the legacy he left behind.

Steve was right. It was pretty amazing.

~

We stayed there until it was time for the gallery to close. Though Steve had made sure he had all of the artist’s socials, and her website where he could see the picture any time he wanted, he still seemed to be soaking in the presence of the piece itself. So I felt a little like a jerk that I was getting sleepy, and I leaned into him to try and relinquish some of the energy used in standing straight to focus on appearing as awake as I could. He leaned into me in return, and I looked up at him. His expression was…peaceful. A little happy, even, and he glanced over at me and smiled a little more.

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.

I was more curious about what was going on in his head, but I wondered if even he knew. I still didn’t know how I would really feel if someone I loved so dearly was now being immortalized by strangers in giant murals, gone long enough to have become simply part of a story long past. Steve was here, and alive, and I was grateful for every moment of that, every turn of his life that led him here, that I didn’t want to think of the other way it could have easily been.

So I snuggled in and asked, maybe a little quietly, “Is it weird if I say your boyfriend was pretty cute?”

That probably could have gone badly, I thought in a way too belated realization, but Steve snorted and clamped his hand over his mouth as he tried to get a handle on it. Eventually he breathed deep, but the smile stayed strong. “He was very handsome,” he agreed and shot me a little smirk. “He would have corrected you with that.” Steve shook his head. “God, the two of you…I don’t know if I’d’ve survived that.”

I rested my head on his shoulder and squeezed his hand. “You probably would have been fine,” I said. “I would have been hard on him too. Sharing a boyfriend doesn’t get you any free passes. Just ask Peggy.”

He snorted, then looked abashed. “Fair enough.” He looked around. “Let me just snap a quick picture of this and then we’ll head out, all right?”

“Of course,” I said and took a few steps back to make sure I was out of the way. Steve took several shots, some from different angles, and then started to slip his phone back into his pocket when he suddenly stopped, and looked at me. “Hey,” he said. “Can I take a picture of you in front of it too?”

I leaned my head to one side and looked at it again. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Past and present; I just…really like the idea.”

“Sap,” I said, but my heart melted faster than an ice cube in July and I went to stand in front of the picture. I didn’t know how to pose, but after a moment considered how well Steve had taken my joke about how attractive Bucky was and– what the hell. I turned my back to the subject, clasped my hands in front of my face, bent one leg behind me, and threw the most coquettish look over my shoulder I could muster.

Steve snorted so hard, and took so long to regain his composure, I started tilting from my poorly-thought-out balance before he finally snapped a photo he was happy with. “You’re terrible,” he said with an out-and-out grin as I rejoined him.

“You love it,” I said and stood as close as I dared, even with the event winding down.

Steve showed no concern for any of that, and wrapped his arms around me. “I really do,” he murmured and snuck a soft, but lingering kiss.

~

~extra~

The picture causes a sense of overwhelming echoes in the back of the mind. It makes him want to break something.

He doesn’t. Someone spent time and effort and this isn’t his and this isn’t him. Not really. Not anymore. He sighs and relaxes his shoulders, and checks the time absently. The security guard won’t make it over here for at least another twenty minutes, and he intends to be long gone by then.

He should be gone now, and yet he stays. James. Barnes. Bucky. They don’t feel quite right anymore, fitting better the unreal image in front of him, and yet still he keeps them, like a familiar old coat gone too tight at the shoulders but too sentimental in value to throw out. In any case he refuses to be the Asset or the Soldier, and he can’t think of another name he would choose otherwise, and so he…keeps them. Just in case they fit right again.

He can’t wait to be out of New York though. He thought it would help, maybe bring things into focus, but those old memories come with flashes of pain, like when they were forced out of him, and he has to grit his teeth against every flinch they bring. He only wanted to come and check on…Steve. Because Steve is, was, always has been, the one thing that matters, and as hard as it has been keeping him ignorant of the ‘Soldier’s’ identity, the one thing that makes it easy is imagining the look on Steve’s face if he realizes what Bucky became.

That fight. It still hurts to think of; makes him wince. It’s better now than it was at the time though. At the time he fought through what felt like double-vision, a face ghosting over the one in front of him, and then to complicate things, the Target, the Mission, was competent in ways he had never known before; every hit matched, blow for blow, the Asset’s implacable strength against the Captain’s unyielding resolve.

And then.

“I can do this all day.”

And he had cracked in two. Six little words had broken him entirely, backup had arrived, and the Asset-not-but-yes had…fled.

But not back to his masters.

The months thereafter were (are) a haze of repressed memories, repressed nightmares, repressed…everything. But without constant conditioning and punishment, he had managed to pull himself back into the shadow of a person. And now he…

He breathes slowly, and finds himself holding his forehead again. He shakes away the pain, stands tall, and looks back to the museum entrance where he had watched Steve leave. With his date. With his partner. And it…hadn’t made him violent, like he feared it might.

Steve is happy. Genuinely happy in a way that makes Bucky nearly relax with relief, and the hurt isn’t as bad as it could be. He’s taking care of and being taken care of in return, and the jealousy and anger Bucky was prepared to have to deal with is just an empty space. This is good. This is better for everyone.

He sighs and checks his watch. Time to go. He has a tip that the redhead has not managed to sniff out yet (Jesus Christ she’s like a bloodhound sometimes) and he’s left another trail for them to pick up on while he follows this because, no offense lady, but this one is a lot more personal and he is actually looking forward to tracking this particular ‘head’ down so he can kick it right in the teeth.

Steve has a life. A good life. And he has a chance to live it now. He’ll handle cleaning up the small fries, and come home at the end of the day. Bucky will continue to take care of the worst of it. As he has. As he should.

He turns, and leaves the image of James Buchanan Barnes in the past. Where he belongs.

~

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[twilightknight17]

The Promised Day - Part 3

Man, I left this for a while. God. Too much to do, too little time, and work is fucking exhausting. But let’s talk about the ending, finally.

Where last we stood, the Great Seal was cast, and everything faded to white.

Probably the closest any of you will ever get to seeing the Sea of Souls.

It’s crushing, how upset they are that everyone made it but one person. Honestly, I get the sense that any number of casualties would have been too much. This was an all-or-nothing fight. It was supposed to be that everyone goes home, or no one does.

But no, the one person they lost was their leader. In the end, there was nothing they could do.

…….it’s not the Sea of Souls, it’s the Universe. Oh god. Of course he can hear them.

Stop talking like you and Nyx are the same. T_T You’re not!

He does sound proud of them, though.

SEES is returned to the front of the school, Tartarus dissolves into light, and Minato walks out of the now-normal building so that everyone can hug him and cry all over him. If I didn’t know how this ends, I’d be really mad about ten minutes from now.

I do like that, after the timeskip, this version of the ending starts the exact same way as the other one, since they still don’t have their memories in this version.

Man oh man am I popular, though. This isn’t even all my social links, and look how many people want to talk to me!

It’s morbidly hilarious that this game literally started the trend of “walk around and talk to everyone the day before the ending”, but Minato’s the only modern protag who wasn’t going to leave. Not by choice, anyway.

You and your girlfriend can’t both have amnesia, my guy. Get it together.

We find out that Kenji is excited because apparently there are going to be three new teachers next year, and they’re all hot. So he has learned nothing. Lots of social links sent letters, because the end of their link was literally them leaving town.

(Minato wasn’t going to leave, everyone else was. Inverse Persona ending. X’’’D)

The Gourmet King is gone (no tears here). Maiko’s dad says she’s doing well but also says I’m absolutely not allowed to marry her. We’re able to give Akinari’s mom the notebook with his story in it. Mamoru and Kaz are doing fine. Bebe, tragically, has decided not to come back to Japan right away. He’s gonna stay with his uncle for a while so they can grieve his aunt together.

Ms. Toriumi is taking the accidental revelation that I’m her MMO buddy very well.

God I laughed so hard.

All the cats I saved from Tartarus are vibing in the back alley!

I think I saved eight total? I wonder if there’s more. Secret cat ending. Fill the whole alley.

And…

...can I listen to my music box now? Please. T_T

As Mitsuru makes her graduation speech, SEES starts to remember, and rushes for the roof, where Aigis and Minato are already skipping the ceremony.

That’s a long time.

I ended up dating Aigis just because I actually maxed her link, and I think the only other girl I maxed was Yuko? Maybe? And Maya, but that wasn’t a romance option, which I still think is weird.

So, the credits. They, uh, didn’t have to do that. Like, it’s brilliant. Having his silhouette sinking deeper and deeper and gradually fading away to represent him doing the same. He vanishes completely and only then does it end, and we get to see SEES reach the roof just barely too late. Beautifully done, Atlus, I started tearing up, how dare you. X’D

And then the main menu is no longer the Dark Hour.

So, overall, other than some nitpicks, I think this was a really solid game. But as a modern remake of a preexisting game, I think they could have gone further. Why NOT just make your male teammates possible social links? Why NOT include Hamuko? Why NOT include The Answer with the base game? Why lie and say you want the “core” (read: original base game) P3 experience, but then add new things?

Why make Ryoji tell you he wants to be more than friends and then not give you a third dialogue option?!?!?

(I know the answer is money. It’s always money. I am just salty.)

But I could forgive more of that if they hadn’t nerfed the final boss. I did some googling, and pinpointed some other things about the Nyx Avatar fight that didn’t line up. Before, he could attack twice per turn. This one can’t. They gave the Death Arcana an extra thousand health, but the old version automatically took half-damage from EVERYTHING except almighty. They took away Moonless Gown, and therefore took away his ability to become invulnerable. Apocalypse can reduce your HP to 1%, but if he’s not attacking twice per turn, someone always has time to heal, so who even cares?

(Shoutout to the Fandom wiki for being like, “It is strongly encouraged to heal when it uses this skill”. No shit, guys. Wow.)

And yeah, they buffed his spells up a level, but ultimately, all the things that might have actually made the boss genuinely hard got nerfed.

It kind of sucks. They gave him a cool new color scheme for the final arcana and then weakened him. Why even.

Anyway, gonna do NG+ on hard mode to finish all social links and the compendium, and also probably going to do something really stupid like solo the Avatar with my level 99 Minato and Thanatos just for giggles.

Because hell yeah. :D

[your-littlesecret]

Piarles and pet names for fake dating??

OH HELLO DARLING!!!! thank you for sending me a prompt 💕🥰

god, I love myself a fake dating!

I hope you enjoy this 💕

-

“Oh, I finally found you, darling!” Pierre chimes, throwing an arm on Charles’ shoulder and bringing him closer, his thousand watt smile making Charles arch an eyebrow at him but only get a wink in return.

“Pierrot,” Charles calls softly, smiling a bit even though he is thoroughly confused. “I didn’t know you had arrived already.”

“Oh, yeah, I had to wait for Esteban, and you know how long he takes to get ready.” Pierre rolls his eyes and then leans in, kisses Charles’ cheek and Charles must be burning red at this moment – luckily, the lights are dimmed so it’s hard to see.

Pierre makes a point of turning to the side, looking at Paul with an arched eyebrow. “Hi! Wait…” He pretends to think and Charles has to bite his lips to stop himself from laughing. Pierre is such a little shit, god! “It’s Pete, isn’t it?”

“Paul.” He seems bored, like he wasn’t flirting with Charles 5 minutes ago. Like he wasn’t telling Charles ‘how their relationship didn’t work because Charles was always too busy with racing, but he’s seen him quite a lot around lately, so maybe they should try to reconnect’.

Charles wanted to gag, but he is too polite for that.

“Huh. Could’ve swear it was Pete…” Pierre frowns, but quickly brushes it away, “But anyway, I am sorry to interrupt, but I have to steal Charlie here now. Right, chérie?”

Charles stutters a bit, especially when Pierre turns to him grinning. Luckily, none of them realize.

“Wait… you two are together?” Paul is the one frowning now, pointing between them with his glass.

“Sure are, mate.” Pierre nods and Charles never wanted to laugh so badly in his life. This whole thing might not be true, but it’s hilarious. “Wait, am I supposed to know you? I don’t… I’m sorry, I don’t recall you. Do you work for Ferrari too?”

Pierre should be rewarded by his acting, Charles will give him that. He stands up straight, and the arm in Charles’ shoulder slips to his waist and Paul averts his eyes to where he can likely see Pierre’s fingers grasping at Charles’ side.

When he looks back up, it’s with pure disgust in his face, “Really? Him? Wow, I guess I was right to leave you then, if you run to your best friend’s bed at the first opportunity you have.”

Pierre says “Hey!” but Paul is gone before he can even say anything else.

It takes a single look at each other for them to start giggling uncontrollably.

“Oh, this is too good. What an asshole!” Pierre says, pretending to pat dry his tears.

“I know. I can’t believe I ever dated him!”

Pierre grunts, head thrown back, “I know! You really have a rotten picker for men, huh?”

“I wish I could say I don’t, but…”

Pierre shrugs, throwing his arm on Charles’ shoulder again. “Good thing that now you’re dating me, so no worries about that anymore!” Charles bats a hand on Pierre’s chest, ready to protest, but Pierre simply grabs at his hand, “Come now, boyfriend. Let’s go for a drink.”

He kisses Charles’ cheek and pulls him by the hand, to the direction of the bar.Their first drink is already gone and Charles realizes they are somehow still holding hands and huh. Now this is new.

[yallmakemyassitch]

Alright, just for you I'll select my first handful from the alphabet for Nikusa. 😉

What are Q, T, U, V, R, S, P?

Woohoo! I can edit asks again! Coming in hot with these headcanons! So sorry for dying on you guys for so long, exams are coming up and life is complicated but I'm getting through it (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

My Christmas present is still in the works (yeah I'm late but you still deserve a gift!) but I hope to get it out by the end of the weekend. Anyways enjoy the headcanons, I love and appreciate you goobers very much ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಡ🩷!!!

✧🌟Headcanons🌟✧

Q - Their response to the question ‘are you ticklish’?

Initially Nikusa would be a bit confused, she's not used to being asked such personal questions and most people come to her to hopefully strike a deal with her. She might get a little flustered given the absurdity of the question. The most you'll get is a 'I don't know?' with an amused smirk and cocked eyebrow.

T - Their most favorite methods of teasing their lee/ler?

Playing investigator on their body; crawling her fingers up and down your body to bring out your worst reaction and best spot. The entire time she's just...talking, pointing out every detail she notices and coos when you react badly to her tickling and teases. "Right here, right here, right over here and oh, I can't forget this spot either! *chuckles* Aw, that's so cute, I'm telling everyone about this!"

U - Do they have some unusual tickles spots? Where?

Her thighs and knees. They are extremely ticklish and sensitive, much to the chagrin of the void queen. She hates it when someone manage to get their hands on her, it makes her go weak and behave in a way she'd never thought. Like a child, Nikusa encases her arms around her body and can do nothing but laugh until the ler lets up. God forbid there's more than one person taking her apart. (ESPECIALLY if it's Agoti and his friends)

It's all very adorable and her reaction to it all is very amusing. The almighty Void Queen giggling at mere pinches on her lower knee? Hilarious. However, this spot will trigger an unyielding vengeance within her that promises her to get back at you twice as hard as how you treated her that day. But Nikusa is unpredictable and very sly, so you'll never know if it will be the next day or next month.

V - As a ler, who is their favorite lee and what makes this person their ultimate victim?

Agoti for sure. He clearly hates her and she knows it, it's a different story when he tries something slick like tickling her. He's a prideful asshole with a smart mouth and needed a quick and swift humbling. It was always funny to see him thrashing in her hands as Nikusa lifted him to her level, shouting, demanding, to be let go. Nikusa would simply squeeze his ribs, watching his rage engulfed face turn into a goofy, terrified grin. She made sure to do it nice and slow, over and over again rapid fire until the angry boy was red and shrieking.

It was funnier when Solazar and Aldryx were around, the father that raised him to be a strong, skilled fighter was the same one reduced to a cackling puddle. It knocked Agoti down his smartass pedestal for sure, hopefully Agoti would realize just how insignificant he was to her and could defeat him in an instant, despite not using violence.

R - Lee or ler, what is generally their main role?

A lee surprisingly, but don't get comfortable too fast as she is plotting lol (⁠���⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

S - If they were to suggest the safeword for a tickle session, which word will it be?

Offering yourself up to her, huh? Intriguing really. Nikusa will be highly amused by this and will tease and taunt you endlessly about it. Even she knows a safe word is necessary as she isn't exactly mortal and does not understand things like their boundaries. She'll be twice as alert as she normally is instead of tormenting you right off the bat but she'll be even more taunting, making sure you giggle your heart out.

To make it worse, Nikusa will make the safe word 'tickle' just to torment you and finds it amusing you can hardly even belt the word out without giggling your lungs out.

P - If they were to go after a lee and accept the aid of a tickle partner, who do they prefer to join hands with and why?

Nikusa would join hands with Aldryx. While their relationship has never been emphasized (Ago and Sol canonically dislike her), I can imagine their relationship to be surprisingly cordial, maybe even friendly at times. Aldryx is far too laid back to make enemies and is fairly approachable, so you'll be more likely to get a positive response than a negative one.

He gets serious when he has to, a tickle fight is not one of them. If Nikusa brings up the idea to Aldryx, who it is they are targeting will greatly affect his response. Most of the time, it's his little brother, so of course he won't hesitate to mess with the shitstain. The pair jump him, Aldryx doing most of the restraining while Nikusa goes ham, much to Agoti's suffering.

Well wowie, wasn't that an experience! It feels so good to do that again and these headcanons are definitely an upgrade compared to my old ones. My Nikusa interpretation mostly stems from CougarMcDowell's dubs and Aldryx is from a multitude of sources, mostly me since the 'cool as ice brother but ultimately still a bastard of a brother' trope is interesting to me (don't fret tho, Aldryx loves Agoti very much 🩷) ୧⁠(⁠＾⁠ ⁠〰⁠ ⁠＾⁠)⁠୨ giggles ok bye