#pure fucking fluff

[lavenoon]

Accidentally Undercover - Their ending, as far as they have one, is a happy one <3

[lucabyte]

"So what's the weirdest possible first (second) impression Loop could make on the party in postcanon?" "Yeah, that, probably."

+ Bonus

theyre just standing there in direct party order while this happens. normal tuesday.

[ants-personal]

charles is gonna have his oh moment and its gonna be something so mundane its honestly a little embarrassing for him

Like them taking a break from a case so everyone decides not to waste the snowday and its going fine everyones have a great time charles is hitting snowballs the girls throw for him edwin hiding behind him when they threaten to hit him if he doesnt stop commenting on their throwing forms

Eventually splitting off a bit with edwin going with niko making tiny snowmen niko explaining they are totally cute and better than a normal snowman look you can hold them in your hands and

charles and crystal coming back with coffee and hot chocolate even if the boys cant drink it its nice to still have it for the holidays

walking up charles is gonna see edwin smiling bright and sparkling just like the snow on the ground he stands amongst the snowy field raditing a warm light hes softer activitly having fun his posture more lax its gonna cause charles to drop their drinks as niko runs up to grabs her from crystal and show off the snowman she made while edwins looks at him quizzically

charles apologizing saying he must of slip laughing it off edwin opens his mouth like hes about to say something but secodes againat it crystal squints at charles but doesnt push it cause they can all hear the night nurse pratically screaming across the city for them to finish their work

[2demondogs]

Annoying Javier/Reader Headcanons

A/N: The promised list from this post. Gender-neutral reader. Everyone can be tormented! Also atp I am so far behind Kinktober and so burnt out and busy I will just have to finish it late </3

There's no question of if Javier's attachment to you is secure based on how irritating he is. And if he's feeling insecure, he will go about playfully proclaiming you love me! followed by a suspicious ...right?

Javier definitely steals your food. If you're really hungry, he won't. He'll think about doing it but he isn't heartless, so he won't. If it's a snack, it's going to be his for the sole reason that it will piss you off. He's leaned over and taken bites out of food while you were holding it in your bare hands. He's like a seagull, or perhaps a rude horse.

He also enjoys making sure you won't want it back. Javier will eat just about anything given the fact pickings are usually slim, and he doesn't like to waste food or animal remains. It began as genuine suggestions and meal prepping, but now he also makes suggestions simply to gross you out. Goat eyes? Yes, please!

Walks with him are either romantic or Hellish. If he can be, he's attached at your hip. This is fine when he's trying to woo you, because that tone strikes up a sort of truce. When it's a short walk to get away or just for travel, Javier is knocking your hip with his to throw you off balance or swinging your hands higher and higher until you say something.

If you bend over, he will be there. Instantly. Consider it his sixth sense. It's either a squeeze on the hips, a smack on the ass, or Javier outright rutting on you until you shove him away or start laughing. If you tell him to stop, he will. Until then, it's a safer bet to squat down instead.

Javier will just... move you around. He will grab your hand, leg, shoulder — whatever he can get to — and reposition it. Usually, it's so that you two are closer than before or are touching in some way. If you're already cuddling, then he's just dicking around. The only times he's looked genuinely sorry for it is when you've complained that you were almost asleep and then he yanked on your arm just because.

If you misspeak in front of him, you might have to shoot him. Javier will mock you for hours. Stuttering? He will laugh and ask if he makes you nervous, or tell you how it cute it is. Forgetting a word? He'll never say that sentence correctly again. Accidentally made an innuendo? He's going to turn into a monster. Like most things, if it genuinely upsets you, he won't do it again. If you're only vaguely annoyed? Well, that's the reaction he's after.

[claws-and-quills]

Truly, Madly, Deeply

A/N: Holy shit this is by far the longest fic I have ever typed! This is a request that became self-indulgent.

Requested by: @callsignred I hope you like it, bestie!!!!

CW: Age Gap (reader is in their early 20s), Secret Relationship, Cock Warming, Oral (Female Receiving), Multiple Orgasms, Descriptions of Male and Female Anatomy, Bodily Fluids, Unprotected Sex, Mentions of Pregnancy, Cream Pie, Slightly Jealous Reader(?), Fingering, Overstimulation

Word Count: 9,002 sheesh....this took like a week

Genre: Smut and Fluff

Pairing: Teacher!Hugh Jackman x Reader

All it took was one simple text. A simple look. The subtle quirk of his lips. You didn't know how he managed it, but from the second you had crossed paths with him, there was this insatiable need that twisted and coiled deep in the pits of your stomach. Here you are, the new world history instructor, falling head over heels for a man you barely knew. He was friendly, charming, easy on the eyes, and had a killer smile. His classroom was nestled directly across the hallway from yours, giving you ample opportunity to steal an occasional glance at him throughout your day. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you'd be this caught up on someone. Never did you ever think you'd even make this far in your teaching career.

Classes had ended around an hour ago. Teaching college had its perks, but it also had its negatives. Glancing at the clock that hung on the wall of your office, it had been well over two hours since you sat down to catch up grading assignments. The words on the computer began to bleed into each other in a messy, black, blotchy alphabet soup. The backs of your eyes stung as though being stabbed with a hot poker. With a defeated sigh, you lay your head onto your desk, lacing your hands together on the base of your skull. The weight of your eyelids was damn near impossible to fight; just as you allowed them to drift closed, a brief knock at your office door makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Yes? It's open. C-come in.” You smooth out the wrinkles of your sundress. It was nearly impossible to keep your heart from climbing into your throat as the door was pushed open, and in steps, Hugh. He offers you a half cocked smile, propping himself against the doorframe. The way he folded his arms across his chest made the sleeves of his dress shirt hug the curves of his biceps.

“I wanted to come check on ya. Saw you hadn't responded to my text. No real harm in that, now eh?” His smile reached his eyes as he gave you a brief once over. Parts of you felt guilty for never responding to his text. “What do you say? Are you free tonight?” The back of your throat ran dry, torn between what he could possibly have in mind and your responsibility of grading exams and essays. Before you can even utter a word, he steps deeper into your office. Leaning in front of you, he closes your laptop, making you nearly shriek. All of that hard work, now potentially lost.

“Professor! I was in the middle of trying to grade papers!” You stared at him in disbelief. It was impossible to feel mad at this man. The laugh that came from him was like sweet music to your ears. The corners of his eyes wrinkle from his grinning laugh. Why did he have to stand so close to you? The cologne he wore smelled heavenly. 

“Come on. You're stressed. You're tired. You're focusing too hard on the job, and not enough on yourself. One extra day won't hurt. Take the night off. Live a little.” He takes your hand into his, and gently pulls you from your desk chair. You felt so small compared to him; the top of your head barely made it to the bottom of his chest, allowing him to tower over you with ease. “And by all means, love, you don't have to be so formal. We're colleagues, after all.”

The heat that boiled in your body threatened to rise onto your cheeks. The subtle brush of his hand against yours brought about a light hue of pink to dust across your cheeks. There were a thousand different thoughts that raced through your mind, and not a single one focused on your unfinished work. You couldn't help the way your heart hopelessly fluttered in your chest. Even as colleagues, you felt as smitten as a freshman school girl with her first official crush. Truthfully, who could genuinely blame you though?

“Right. Right…uhm. Just, let me grab my keys and lock everything up.” You laugh nervously, snatching your keys from your desk before locking up your office. A low chuckle rumbled deep in Hugh's chest as he walked next to you down the hallway. Every weekend, the campus life seemed to dwindle down, leaving its parking lots empty. You allow your mind to wander for just a moment before looking up to him from the corner of your eyes. “Well…since I'm not busy tonight anymore, was there something you had in mind?”

“Dinner. A few drinks. Just two adults going out on the town. There's no harm in that, now is there?” The confidence that laced his voice was almost annoying. How could he always be so sure of himself? The heat in your cheeks grew hotter as he curled an arm around your shoulders, offering a half cocked and toothy grin.

“Colleagues. Just two colleagues. I mean…don't you think this could…I dunno, if someone saw us? It would be-”

“Scandalous? Cause jealousy? Love, who cares what anyone else would think.” He pauses in front of you as you reach for the door handle of your car. Stepping closer, he forces you to back up against the cool, metal, door of your car. He traps you by resting his hands on either side of you against the door. “Just two grown colleagues going out for dinner and drinks. Let's say for eight o'clock?” You could feel the heat of his breath brush against your lips due to the close proximity. His cologne floods your senses, making your head reel. At that moment, all you could do was nod. “Then it's a date then.”

He was painfully overconfident in himself, but you couldn't bring yourself to protest against him. The idea of a date made your cheeks and body burn. You watched as he smirked to himself, sauntering towards the Sports Car he drove. Once you were sure he wasn't looking, your knees damn near buckled beneath you with nerves. Eight o'clock. That gave you around three hours to get home, washed, and dressed. Your heart pounded in your chest as Hugh gave you a wave before speeding out of the parking lot. This was actually happening. The subtle buzz of your phone vibrating catches your attention. Another single text.

‘Wear something a bit fancy. Who knows. Might take a twirl or two. See you at eight.’

Your heart pounded in your chest at his text. This was actually happening. You didn't know what to do or how to feel. Taking a moment to gather yourself together, you hurriedly climb into your car to rush towards your apartment. Three hours was so close but so far. The panic began to set in. Taking a deep breath, you calm your nerves to the best of your abilities. It was now or never, and you chose the now.

~o0o~

You stared at your reflection in the mirror. Smoothing out the slim fitting dress that you wore. Its smooth fabric hugged your curves in all the right places. A low v-cut split the front of your dress, the pentacle stopped just below your breast bone. Somehow you had allowed your best friend to convince you into buying this dress quite a few months ago, but had never worn it before. A simple silver necklace hung delicately around your neck. Just as the nerves began to tumble around in your stomach, a soft knock at your door brought you back down to reality.

“Coming!” You call out, rushing towards the door. Thankfully, a black pair of heels rested next to the rug there. Nothing too big or fancy, but enough to give you around two or three inches added to your height. Opening the door, you're nearly awestruck at the sight of Hugh. A lazy smirk rested on his lips. Clad in black slacks and a button-up dress shirt, he was quite the sight to see. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the first two buttons that are undone at the top of his shirt. He drags his eyes over you, tilting his head, obviously pleased with your choice of clothing.

“Well now, aren't you the beauty tonight. I should have asked you out for dinner a long time ago,” he mused with a smile to his voice. Your heart skips a beat as he extends his hand out for you to take. Snatching your keys and tugging the door closed, you allow yourself to be led away by him.

“I…thank you…you're quite the catch yourself, Hugh.” It's damn near impossible to not blush with how small your hand was compared to his. His thumb brushes against your knuckles absentmindedly as he chuckles lowly under his breath which makes your heart want to skip a beat. The way his smile reached his eyes had you nearly weak in the knees.

“Oh yeah? I just threw something together. Nothing too fancy. But you? You're gonna be the finest sheila there,” he opens the car door for you, gesturing for you to step in. You catch him dragging his eyes across your body again, a wide, toothy grin breaks across his lips upon being caught red-handed. Another wave of heat rushes through your body. You didn't know what it was exactly about him that you found so alluring. Was it his charming good looks? The authentic and rich Aussie accent? Or how his eyes always seemed to shine with kindness and adventure? Whatever it was about him, it had you wrapped snugly in an embrace you hoped would never let go.

After getting settled in,Hugh gets into the drivers seat, speeding off. He could see from the corner of his eye the way your body visibly grew tense at the speed, but it was a rush for you. He rests a hand on your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. Normally you would have swatted anyone away, but it somehow felt different with him. A sly smile quirked the corner of his lips seeing how you lightly bit your lower lip and hesitantly rested your hand on top of his. 

“You're in good hands, love. Relax. I don't bite, and I won't hurt you.” A soft giggle escapes from your lips at his words. Something in you knew he was being honest. It had been so long since you had ever been out with anyone that you had almost forgotten how to properly function. “Breathe love. You trust me now, don't you?”

“O-of course,” you finally breathe. A shaky smile parts your lips towards him. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him. He had you completely mesmerized with his presence alone. Bolts of electricity shoot through your body at how tenderly he caresses your knee with his thumb. “I'm not trying to be awkward. It's uhm���it's just been a while since I've been out on any dates or anything.” He squeezes your knee again, smiling smugly towards you for a brief moment. Slowly, the suburbs began to fade away, the quiet sky soon becoming replaced with a bustling skyline of the city. Confusion and shock began to take over as the neon sign of Coastal Rhythm and Steakhouse came into view.

Your mouth fell open at the sight. Coastal Rhythm and Steakhouse was well beyond your price range. Never in a million years would you have even looked into the general direction of this place. When Hugh brings the car to a stop at the valet entrance, the reality of the situation starts to set in. He's quick to exit, moving to open the passenger door for you and offers you his hand. Your lips part slightly, taking in the atmosphere and resting your hand into his. A million questions ran rampant through your mind. Somehow, he must have seen the shock that rested upon your face, prompting him to shake his head at you.

“No talk of work. Don't worry about prices. It's just you and me tonight, baby.” He tosses the keys over his shoulder to the valet driver whilst escorting you towards the large, tique doors of the restaurant. The strong aroma of expensive spices, meats, and cigars greet your senses once he opens the door for you. Your stomach was practically doing somersaults with nerves. Across the way, a stage was nestled against the wall with a live band playing smooth, rhythmic, music. There were a few couples on the spacious dance floor, which seemed to catch your attention. Hugh follows your gaze, leaning close to your ear and softly speaks, “looks like fun? I was hoping you'd be willing to give it a try.”

The heat of his breath sent chills down your spine. Before you could protest, his attention is cut away to the young hostess as she greets you both. After a brief exchange of information to confirm the dinner reservation, she leads you and Hugh to a table nestled near the window, overlooking the bay. The city lights reflected against the smooth water in a dazzling display of the night life. Hugh's eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled warmly, pulling a chair out for you. Once you're settled in, he takes his seat across from you, his smile growing more into a roguish grin.

“I didn't expect this, Hugh. I…how even?” You begin to ask, but held up a hand to silence your growing question. A soft sigh escapes from you, your lips curving into a faint smile. “You're so full of surprises. Different too, but in a good way.” You absentmindedly trace the rim of your glass of water.

“What can I say? I like keeping you on your toes. Two can play this little game of cat and mouse, love.” His eyes meet yours, leaning forward slightly and closing the distance between each of you. Your smile was soft, shy, hesitant even, a complete contrast compared to his bold smile that showed damn near perfect teeth. A faint blush dusts across your cheeks as your heart flutters in your chest. Before you can try to form your next sentence, the waiter approaches the table, handing you and Hugh a menu while asking about what each of you would like to drink.

You could feel Hugh's eyes watching your every move. Parts of you started to feel guilty for allowing him to bring you somewhere so extravagant and elegant. Two things that did not seem to be in your everyday vocabulary. After placing the order for drinks, Hugh returns his gaze to settle onto you. He gently rests his hand on yours, caressing your knuckles. A tight but amazed smile curved his lips as he chuckled. 

“Do you always look this serious when you look at menus?” He teased warmly, arching a brow towards you. His tone was lighthearted, but his eyes were filled with amusement and curiosity. He finally links his fingers into yours, locking gazes with you. “Hey, relax. It's just a dinner date. Two adults, having dinner, and enjoying each other's company.”

Your cheeks flushed again, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you nod. The way his eyes sparkled melted the walls that once guarded you and your heart. “Hugh…this is just…it's just a bit overwhelming is all. Not that I'm complaining! You're way too kind and generous for doing this.”

He laughs softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his genuine grin. “Kind? Generous? I've been called a fairshare of things in my life, but I don't quite think I've ever been called either of those things before.” He closes his menu, having already decided on his meal. You meet his gaze again, giggling softly under your breath. 

“Well, I think you are both of those things. You're kind, generous, and charming. I don't care what anyone else has had to say before.” You smile warmly towards him. The butterflies that fluttered in your stomach had it doing somersaults when your eyes met his.

“Oh trust me, you haven't seen anything yet, baby. I'm still full of surprises.” He leans back into his chair as the waiter returns with the drinks and his booklet of tickets to take each of your orders. Hugh glances at you before placing his order. It's almost impossible for you to keep your eyes from wanting to bulge out at the prices of the entrées on the menu. After a bit of encouragement from Hugh, you do decide to splurge on yourself and indulge on a steak.

“Thank you again, Hugh. For bringing me here, and always just being…well, you.” Your lips curve into a fairly more confident smile towards him. After taking a few sips of wine, the edge was finally starting to wear off and help you relax more.

“No need to thank me, love. I was hoping you would like it. Something special for an eye catching and special woman,” he gives you a flirty wink.

As the evening progressed and the food was brought out, the conversation began to flow more easily. Hugh rambled about stories of his adventures and travels, along with his early life in Australia. You couldn't help but be hung up on every word he spoke. You loved the way he became more jovial and animated in the way he spoke and moved his hands. The smile and laughter that came from you almost had your cheeks hurting, but it felt so refreshing as you listened more intently with sparkling eyes.

“What about you, love? Surely you must have some fun adventures behind that smile of yours,” he asked and leaned in closer to you.

You hesitate for a moment. Compared to Hugh, your life seemed rather bland and boring. Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you  shyly began to speak again. “Well…I like to read a lot. And I try my hand at painting too. I'm not very good at it, but it's a fun distress activity for me.” Taking a bite of food, your entire demeanor changes, savoring the rich flavors. 

“I'm sure it's not that bad. Perhaps one day, I could see your work.” His words earned another blush from you.

“Maybe one day,” you murmur softly. A content and comfortable smile rested on your lips. Your eyes, however, drift back towards the dance floor at the sound of subtle applause from some of the other diners. A few couples had thanked the impromptu judges of the diners. The band on stage had started to play soft strains of a tango. Hugh follows your gaze, a spark of excitement ignites in his eyes as he looks to you.

“Do you dance?” There was something adventurous in both his voice and eyes.

Your eyes widen slightly, and you shake your head. “N-no. I mean…no really. I've never really tried it before.” There's a hint of nervousness and shyness to your voice. The breath catches in the back of your throat as Hugh stands and extends his hand to you.

“Perfect! There's a first time for everything, baby.” After hesitating a moment, you rest your hand in his. His grip is warm and assuring as he leads you towards the dance floor. The diners of the restaurant had turned their attention towards you and Hugh with a piqued curiosity. Truthfully, you couldn't blame them. Hugh exuded confidence on top of his charmingly good looks. He seemed so sure of himself; each step he took was deliberate and thoughtful to the point it made you think he had to have done this before.

“Just follow my lead, and trust me.” He whispers against your ear. The heat of his breath against your skin sent chill down your spine again. You nod meekly, unsure of yourself as your heart thundered inside of your chest. He places a hand against your waist, the other gripping your hand firmly. With the first few notes of the music starting, he guides you into the first few steps.

“Good girl. You're doing great.” He husks lowly against your ear. His voice is low, raspy, but soothing. “Relax, baby. Let yourself go. Feel the music.” His eyes were intense as he watched you and guided you. A new heat had started to burn deep inside of your body at how his gently pressed into the side of your waist, slowly tracing them up your side just below your ribcage.

Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself to relax into his touch. With every step and sway of your body, you let yourself be swept deeper into the music with Hugh. The world around you seemed to fade; the eyes of the other diners being upon you didn't even seem to exist anymore. Your eyes remained fixed on the Hazel green ones of Hugh as your bodies swayed and moved together in a synchronized harmony. His steps confident and graceful as he led you with effortless ease.

Never would you have imagined yourself in a situation like this. A swell of thrill and exhilaration took over your senses. The tango, it was passionate, intense, and sensual. With every step, you could feel the chemistry between you and Hugh grow even stronger. His intense eyes remained locked on yours, trailing down your body when he's able to. Despite his intense gaze, his smile was of pure enjoyment and delight.

He pulls you in closer, your body pressed firmly against his. “See? You're a natural at this, baby. Keep going.” His voice is soft but laced with confidence. 

You laugh quietly, melting against his rock hard body. “That's because I had such an amazing teacher.” Your eyes shine brightly as you wore a radiant smile at your lips. He chuckled quietly under his breath, spinning you just as the music began to reach its peak crescendo, and pulls you against his chest for the final, dramatic pose. His lips rested just mere centimeters from yours; you could feel his hot breath caress your lips with every breath you each took. The other diners that had been watching all applaud with approval of the display, making your cheeks heat up.

“That…that was amazing!” You beam up at him. He chuckles softly, resisting the urge to want to press his lips against yours.

“You were amazing.” He corrects you with a warm and approving tone. He glances to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze. “Couldn't have done it without you.” He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles before walking you back towards the table you had both been sitting at. “Thank you for letting me do this.”

Your eyes soften towards him, “thank you for asking me to join you.” There's a surge of pride and confidence that flows through your body. Pride for stepping out of your comfort zone, but also pride in yourself for discovering a hidden talent you never knew you had. Something inside of you began to tell you that this might just be the beginning to something even greater.

As the night grew later, the crowd began to die down inside of the restaurant until finally a hostess has to politely ask you both to leave after Hugh pays for your meal. Where had the time gone to? Looking at your phone screen, it was pushing close to midnight. Linking your arms together, he walks with you outside. The night air was cool and crisp against your bare arms, making you step closer to Hugh for warmth.

You finally look up to him, biting your lower lip deep in thought. “I don't want this to end…” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He looks down at you, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Who ever said that it has to come to an end?” He asks you quietly, a sly smirk at his lips. Taking a moment, he glances from your eyes and then to your lips as though asking for permission before pressing a chaste kiss against to your lips. Your lips melt against his for a brief moment as your heart races in your chest. The sound of valet pulling his car up towards the entrance makes him pull away just slightly to gaze down at you.

“Come on, let's get out of here.” He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, leading back towards the car. Something in his eyes seemed to ve different. He still looked adventurous, but there was a new gleam in his eyes. Something new, dangerous, and you wanted more. Without hesitation, you allow yourself to trust him fully.

He rests his hand on your upper thigh once inside of the car, before speeding off. The grip he held on your thigh was like nothing you had ever experienced before. The gaze in his eyes was intense, clouded with love and lust. You bite the inside of your lip, resting your hand on top of his. He turns his head to look at you briefly, smirking proudly to himself. You didn't know what he had planned, but the expressions in his eyes had you intrigued.

~o0o~

The car ride back was tense, but not in a bad way. There was a swarm of emotions that rushed through your mind and body. Your heartbeat immediately quickened at the sight of unfamiliar condos. Digging out his wallet, he swipes his keycard at the entrance gate into the community. The back of your throat began to burn with anticipation. Hugh looks over to you once he pulls into the parking lot in front of his condo.

“We don't do anything you're not comfortable with. You can trust me, scouts honor.” He assures you warmly, turning to face you better. His eyes glance between your gaze and lips, leaning in closer to close the distance between each of you. Leaning in to meet him halfway, your lips melt against his. His tongue flicks against your lower lip, asking for entrance. Your lips part, granting him access. A needy moan slips from your mouth, making you blush deeply.

Hesitating at first, you curl an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. Your other hand caresses his rippling chest. You could feel the way his chiseled back and chest flexed against your hands. Growing a little more bold, you nibble at his lower lip, earning a heated groan from him. His hand finds your throat, gripping it firmly and pulling you just put of reach of his lips.

“We should take this inside, yeah?” He husks, trailing his thumb down your throat. His eyes fall onto your puffy and swollen lips from such a heated kiss. You heart fluttered and pounded in your ears at a deafening rate. You swallow thickly at his question, but slowly nod. His eyes soften a little with concern towards you. Sliding his hand up your neck to cup your cheek, tenderly. “Hey…we don't have to if you're not comfortable just yet.”

You rest your hand on top of his, “no I…I want to. I-it's just been a while. I'm more than comfortable with you, Hugh…”

His eyes search yours long and hard before he finally nods and presses another needy kiss to your lips. Your heart thundered rampantly in your chest watching and following him as he moved to get out of the car and opened the passenger door for you. His eyes remain fixed on you as he helps you step out and closes the door behind you. Your fingers become interlocked with his as he leads you to the elevator to get to his condo. Once the elevator closes, his lips are on your again. The kiss is more demanding this time as he backs you up against the wall, his hands greedily roam around your body until they find your hips. His fingers dig into the thick, fleshy portion of your hips, pulling you against his chest.

Your tongue darts from your mouth to meet his. His mouth hungrily swallows your needy moans as you curl your arms around his shoulders; one of your hands cup the nape of his neck, nails softly digging into his skin near his hairline, eliciting a heated groan from him. His mouth leaves yours, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and down your neck. Your eyes flutter at the heat of his mouth against your pulse. A mewling squeal escapes you as he sinks his teeth into your sensitive skin at the hollow of your neck near your shoulder.

“F-fuck…Hugh…” Your neck and back arch into him while your eyes flutter. He presses against you more, eliciting a gasp from you as you feel his growing erection press against you. As the elevator bell dings and the doors slide open, you whimper softly as he pulls away. His eyes are dark and clouded with lust for you. Without a word, he takes your hand, leading you towards the door of his condo. Once inside, he's on you again like a starved animal, harshly kicking the door shut.

Your hands slide down his chest, eagerly unbuttoning his dress shirt. He inhales a sharp breath at the sensation of you dragging your nails down his chest. In a fluid motion, he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards his bedroom. Your hand slides down his chest, resting over his pounding heartbeat. Even through the lust, the care in his eyes towards you was beyond noticeable as though asking ‘are you sure’ one last time.

“I'm sure of this, Hugh. Please…I need this. Need you…” An unfamiliar heat had begun to pool between your thighs, coating your panties. Setting you down within the privacy of his bedroom, you gazed up towards him lovingly. It almost felt like some type of dream at this point. This was actually happening. This wasn't some weird dream or fantasy. It was real.

Snaking an arm around you, his fingers find the zipper of your dress. “Last chance…once we start this, there's no stopping or going back.” You merely nod in understanding towards him. You were beyond certain that this was what you wanted. You wanted him, needed him. He eases the zipper of your dress down your back, the black fabric pooling onto the floor around your ankles, leaving you in nothing but your shoes and panties. The cool air laps at your skin, causing goosebumps to inch their way across your body. The cool air has ykur nipples rapidly hardening into stiff little peaks on the mounds of your supple breasts. He leisurely drags his eyes across your body, admiring every curve, dip, and valley your body has to offer. “Fucking beautiful…”

His lips are crushed against yours again, nearly taking your breath away. His hands inch across your body, caressing your skin and exploring every inch of you. His thumbs draw and press tight circles over your aching nipples as he palms your perky breasts with ease. A soft whimper escapes from you at the sensations that his touch causes to surge through you. Every fiber of your being felt ablaze, and it was all due to Hugh. Your hands eagerly roam across his bare chest. His skin felt hot and tight against your palms. A thin layer of sweat coated his skin; the pale light of the lamp that hung on the wall had cast a subtle sheen across his skin.

Trailing your hands down further, you eagerly untuck his shirt from the waistband of his slacks. You needed to see and feel every inch of his body. Your slick walls had begun to dampen your panties even more. His hands meet yours, eagerly helping you with the fabrics of his shirt before finally shrugging it down and off his shoulders, tossing the fabric somewhere across the room. Bending down slightly, he slides his hands behind your body, cupping your ass roughly and lifting you up against his body. You gasp, eagerly wrapping your arms and legs around his body, making it easier for him to carry you over to the bed.

As he lays you down against the plush mattress, your heartbeat immediately escalates. He drags his hands up your thighs and down calves to your feet, tugging and tossing your heels somewhere across the room. Leaning back onto his heels, he admires your bare body before him. The way your skin tightened and twitched at his gentle caresses and the way your chest rose and fell, desperate for air. In his eyes, you were such a beauty to him. Leaning forward and resting his weight onto his palms, he begins to kiss and nip his way up your body. A frustrated whimper sounds in your throat as his lips skip over where you wanted him most. The stubble on his chin scrapes against the tender skin of your abdomen as he leaves a trail of kisses up your stomach, dipping his tongue against your navel, making your eyes flutter.

He chuckles darkly as your fingers become entwined into his dark, luscious hair. His eyes meet yours, trailing his tongue up across your abdomen, stopping between the valley of your breasts. The demanding heat of his mouth against your breast earns a needy and pornographic moan from you. His tongue swirls longingly around one of your aching nipples while one of his hands eagerly gropes and massages the other, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck…Hugh…” You mewl needly, rubbing your thighs together for friction. He hums against you, tongue vibrating against your throbbing nipple. Moving his head and hand, he gives your other neglected breast the same attentive treatment. Your mouth falls open as he pushes his knee between your thighs, grinding his knee against your sopping and aching core. “Hugh, please…I fucking need you…”

“Mmmm, I never thought you'd be so needy. Fuck, baby, you have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this.” He sits back up onto his knees, unbuckling his belt and tugging it free from the belt loops of his pants. The leather makes a loud snapping sound against his hand. “You're all mine tonight.” You sit up onto your elbows, chest still heaving as you watch him stand up from the bed to kick off his shoes and socks, followed by his slacks, leaving him only just boxers. You could see the firm, rock hard outline of his throbbing cock.

He kneels back between your legs, dragging his hands up the length of your legs. “Lay back, baby. You're in good hands.” Your heart flutters at his words as you obediently listen. Hooking his fingers under your panty line, he slowly tugs the thin fabric down your legs, carelessly tossing it to the side. Laying between your legs, he tosses your legs over his shoulders while slowly dragging his tongue through your dripping cunt. He groans appreciatively at your taste, swiping his tongue through the velvety folds of your cunt once again. His mouth stopping over your clit, tongue swirling and flicking expertly against your aching bundle of nerves.

Your hips instinctively jolt at the new sensation. Groaning hotly, you fist his hair again, desperate for more. The stubble on his chin scratches against your velvety folds, giving you the friction you had desperately been craving. Arching your back, your head falls back onto the pillows, leaving you a moaning mess beneath him. He slowly eases a finger deep into your quivering cunt, earning another desperate and needy whimper from you. After allowing you time to adjust, he then adds another finger, curling and scissoring them into every sensitive area deep inside of your cunt.

“Oh my god…fuck. Hugh, oh fuck…” An unfamiliar coil began to twist deep in your stomach. The twisting and burning sensation creeps down further, making your slick, velvety walls begin to flutter. Your clit aches and throbs from the much needed attention of his mouth and tongue. Soft, breathy, and needy pants escape from your lips as your back arches up from the bed. Hugh presses his fingers harshly against your g-spot, guiding you into your first body wracking orgasm of the night. “Hugh!!! Fuck!!!” You throw your head back, chanting his name like a desperate prayer. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, the pressure in your stomach and pussy become too much; he pulls his fingers away, leading you into a squirting orgasm that coats his face and chest.

“Oh fuck. Look at you, baby…just full of surprises.” He groans, licking your sticky fluids from his fingers. Your chest heaved anxiously as you watched him. He eagerly tugs his boxers down his thighs, groaning as his aching erection is finally able to spring free. The head of his swollen cock glistened with precum. You can't help but to swallow thickly at how girthy his length actually is. “Relax baby. I'll be gentle with you.”

You nod, slowly wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders as he leans over you, resting his weight on his palm. Using his other hand, he swipes the head of his cock through your sticky and sopping pussy. Coating his cock in your slick arousal, he gives his cock a few slow pumps before gently easing his length into you. He groans at how tightly your walls wrap around him. Inch by inch, he pushes himself deeper, only to pull out slightly and then ease more of himself into you until finally bottoming out deeply inside of your tight, little pussy. He still his hips against yours at your pained whimper.

“Sshh, relax baby. Relax for me.” He cups your cheek, pressing a deep but tender kiss to your lips. After a few moments, you slowly nod for him to move. His thrusts are slow and sensual, gliding his girthy cock against your hot, velvety walls. He slides a hand down your side and then thigh, cupping the back of your knee and hiking your leg up onto his hip. The new angle allows him to sink in even deeper, allowing the head of his cock to gently bump against your cervix. Thrust by thrust, your walls relax more, molding to fit him perfectly inside of you.

You wrap your leg around his waist, edging him in just a little deeper. His mouth leaves yours, trailing along your jaw and neckline. His tongue traces the length of your pulse until finally finding a particularly sensitive spot to harshly bite and suck on. A near pornographic groan escapes you as you sink your nails into the backs of his shoulders. He groans heatedly, snapping his hips against yours. The room becomes filled with the sinful and pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin. With every snap of his hips, he fucks you deeper into the mattress. You drag your nails down across his shoulders and down the curves of his triceps and biceps. Your nails leave rapidly reddening scratches on his skin.

He pulls out just enough to be able to slam into you again. The headboard whips against the wall with a harsh thud. With each of his thrusts, a breathy grunt is forced up out of his throat. Eagerly, you manage to wrap your other leg around his waist, holding him closely. Your eyes flutter, vision blurring as the head of his cock collides against your cervix, stretching and filling your walls to his liking. You grip his wrists desperately, chanting his name like a prayer as your head begins to reel and spin. A familiar painful coil starts to churn and grow hot in the pits of your stomach, inching closer to your abused pussy. He grabs your hands into his, pinning them against the mattress. The snapping of his hips grows more desperate as he chases his release.

“Fuck…you feel so fucking good on me. Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum. You have me so close.” He groans into your ear, his movements growing more desperate and erratic. You could feel how close he was. Knowing that Drew you closer to wanting to spill over.

“Oh god, Hugh…I'm close…fuck, please…!” You pant desperately, gripping his hands in yours. His lips are eagerly crushed against yours for a heated and desperate kiss. Your walls clenched tightly around him as your second orgasm hits, making your vision go white. Throwing your head back, you desperately cry out his name as he too reaches his high, spilling hot strings of cum deep inside of your pussy, coating your cervix in white. Tears threaten to prick the corners of your eyes. His hips finally slow against yours, growing still as you both pant raggedly against each other's lips. He dips his head into the hollow of your neck, tenderly kissing the bruising hickey he had left there.

Your legs slide from his waist, trembling from your orgasm. He slowly lifts his head, pressing his lips against yours for a chaste kiss. Wriggling your hands free from his, you curl your arms tightly around his shoulders and press your forehead against his. After a moment, you exhale a shaky sigh, smiling up at him. He cups your cheeks, resting his weight on his elbows while gazing down at you.

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” Concern fills his eyes while tenderly caressing your cheeks.

“No…that was…amazing…” Your fingers caress the nape of his neck comfortingly. “Even if you did…I really liked it.”

He groans softly at your words, smirking confidently with himself towards you. After pecking your lips once more,  he pulls away to be able to lay next to you. His fingers tenderly trace designs across your skin before pulling you flush against his chest. “You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that.” He finally speaks, his gravelly voice just above a whisper. You hum softly in response, caressing his chest.

He chuckles softly, inching closer until your bodies are pressed tightly against one another. “I've seen the way you've looked at me. Have seen all those little glances from you.” You chuckle sheepishly under your breath, linking your fingers into his, “I'm gllad I finally got you out of that office.”

You bury your face into his chest, giggling at the idea that you had been caught red-handed on one too many occasions. “Oh god…I must have looked like such a creep. I am so sorry-” he cuts you off with a chaste kiss.

“You're different from everyone else. There is no need for you to be apologizing. If you hadn't done that, love, I don't think I ever would have made a move on you,” he assures you warmly. His eyes follow you as you press his shoulders, guiding him to lay on his back. A smirk rises at the corner of his lips as you lay against his chest, pressing a tender kiss on his chest above his heart.

“I'm glad that you did, Hugh. Really…I am. The moment I saw you, there was just something about you…” You nuzzle his chest affectionately. 

“Mmmm, I am too, baby. We should definitely do this again.” He looks down to you, threading his fingers through your hair. Your eyes practically sparkle.

“I'd love that.” Your heart swelled and fluttered in your chest 

“Why don't you stay the weekend then? Just you and me.” Something in his eyes seemed to flicker. An amused smirk at his lips as he presses a finger against yours, “and don't try to use work as an excuse. You can very easily ride in with me.”

You chuckle, nodding in defeat. “You've really thought this through, haven't you?” He chuckles softly, shrugging to himself as he folds his arms behind his head. “We'll just have to make a pit stop at my place. I don't think that dress I wore would mull over well in a classroom.”

He chuckles quietly, “Oh I think it'd be just fine. It looks great both on and off of you.” He laughs as you playfully smack his bicep.

~o0o~

Over the passing months, you and Hugh had grown closer together than ever before. You weren't as awkward around him. In fact, being with him gave you the confidence that you had been lacking. However, you still found yourself stealing the occasional glance at him through the window of his classroom door. Your heart fluttered every time his eyes would meet yours, and a cocky smirk would curve the corner of his lips. It became a routine for you both. Every Friday evening, you spent it out together either for dinner, dancing, or any other fun adventure Hugh would surprise you with. You'd take turns on whose place you'd stay over the weekends, though truthfully, you spent more time at his after receiving a noise complaint from your downstairs neighbor.

Today, you stood in the faculty room with Hugh and your other colleagues. The meeting was more of a surprise retirement party for one of your colleagues in the English department. Your hand gently brushes against his, capturing his attention for a brief moment. Even after all these months, the way he smiled with his eyes melted your heart straight to the core. Both of you knew that many of your colleagues had their suspicions on whether or not there was a relationship between you two. The tables of the lounge held various trays of food, snacks, and desserts for everyone.

“So, are you free tonight?” Hugh asks, leaning in close. His lips nearly brush against your ear. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“For you? Always.” You look up to him with a sly smirk. “I have something to show you tonight too.” He chuckles softly, but is soon called away by a fellow coworker. You watch him with a soft smile before taking a seat at one of the empty tables. Over the past several months, you found yourself falling harder and harder for him. A soft smile rested at your lips as you watched him talk and laugh with several colleagues. His boisterous and contagious laughter fills the room, making your smile reach your eyes. There was no lie to it, you loved him.

You're brought out of your thoughts and admiration of Hugh as someone sits next to you. She looked to be a year or two older than you. She wore a bright and friendly smile, but somehow her eyes seemed distrusting. Every red flag in your mind was screaming. She extends a hand out to you,beginning to introduce herself to you.

“Hey! I hope I'm not bothering you. I'm the new hire replacement for Dr. Howard! Looks like we're both going to be in the same hall for teaching. Oh, I'm Sophie, by the way! I should have opened with that,” Sophie exclaims excitedly. It takes almost all of your energy to hold your tongue.

You smile politely and return the handshake after introducing yourself. “Pleasure to meet you. So, you're in the history department? I teach world history. January will make a year that I've been here. How long have you been teaching, exactly?”

“So, this will be my first year doing college level teachings. Public school system just wasn't cutting it for me anymore. But wow, a year already?” Sophie asks, her tone coming off more condescending than actual curiosity. You give her a tight smile, turning your eyes away briefly to meet the hazel green ones of Hugh from across the room. Unbeknownst to you, Sophie follows your gaze and raises her brows. “Well now, isn't he a tall drink of water.”

A small smirk rose to your lips, but your knuckles turned white at how tightly you gripped the lower hem of your skirt. You force out a soft laugh from between your lips at her words. There were a million words you wanted to say, and not a single one would have been kind. Before you can formulate a sentence, Sophie excuses herself to go try to speak with Hugh. The tension that surrounded your body was suffocating. If looks could kill, Sophie would have been as good as dead. You watched as she sauntered over to Hugh, abruptly interrupting his conversation.

Your stomach twisted into unfamiliar knots as you watched Sophie speak with Hugh. You could only imagine that she tried the same whole sweet and ditsy charade on Hugh. The back of your throat began to burn with emotions as you watched this woman step closer to Hugh in their conversation. Throughout the conversation, you watched as Sophie would occasionally bat her eyelashes at Hugh or let her hand somehow brush against his arm. The longer you watched, the more your vision began to see red, until finally Hugh had found a way to dismiss himself from the conversation. For a brief moment, you could have sworn that there was disappointment on the lips of Sophie as Hugh had somehow managed to step away from her. He locks gazes with you, moving to join you at the table.

“I don't like her too much,” you state flatly, to which he laughs quietly. “I'm serious, Hugh! She was practically undressing you with her eyes!” You hiss quietly under your breath. He gently knocks your knee with his own, giving you a knowing look.

“Well, she can try all she wants to. Come on, she's not even my type. Besides, I'm already spoken for,” he gives you an assuring wink. It was damn near impossible not to show your relationship at work. Neither of you was too worried about codes of conduct, but you were more concerned about his professional reputation due to the age gap between you both.

“Mmm, still. I wouldn't trust her too easily. I just have a bad feeling about her,” you shrug slightly, earning another soft chuckle from him. Much like all good things, the retirement party for Dr. Howard had slowly started to dwindle down once the 2 o'clock hour had rolled around. Many had to leave before then due to classes or other faculty meetings, which eventually made the last remaining hours of the work day creep by agonizingly slow.

The interaction with Sophie had left a fairly sour taste in your mouth. Parts of you couldn't blame her though, Hugh was quite the attractive man. He had it all, a killer smile, charming good looks, contagious laughter, and a warm heart. And you were lucky enough to have him all to yourself. By the end of the day, you had actually beaten Hugh out to his car. You sat with your palms on either side of your hips, resting against the hood of the car. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you recognized his footsteps growing nearer. He leans into you after stepping to be in between your legs, resting his hands on top of yours.

“Hey,” he gave you a half-cocked smile before stealing a brief kiss from you. “What did you want to show me, love?”

You take his hands into yours, linking your fingers into his. A slow, shaky breath escapes from your lips as your eyes meet his. “Not here. At your place. I promise, everything is okay.” Worry begins to fill his eyes, but he pushes it down at your assurance. The ride home, you both spoke about the events of the day. Though still bothered by the antics of Sophie, you manage to laugh softly to yourself over it.

Once settled in the comfort of his condo, you rested against his chest as you both lounged on the couch. His t-shirt completely swamped your small frame. You could feel the heat of his breath chest permeate through the fabric of the shirt you wore. His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, fingers tenderly caressing the soft, tender skin on your stomach just above your panty line. You could feel the smirk on his lips against your shoulder.

“Hugh…” you finally break the comfortable silence that had filled the living room. He hums softly against your neck in acknowledgment. You had rehearsed this in your mind a few times, but it didn't become any easier. “Hugh, there's something I need to tell you.”

He lifts his head, growing worried and serious. “What is it, love? Is everything okay? Is this about the incident with Sophie today?”

You shake your head, turning in his lap to face him. He could see the nervousness in your eyes, making his gaze soften towards you. “So…the past few weeks, I've been feeling a bit off. I went to the doctor after getting sick last week. And well…” you trail off, nerves beginning to settle in even more. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

“Hey, hey…look at me, love. Is everything okay? Are you okay?” He tenderly wipes your tears away from the corners of your eyes.

“Everything is…it's more than okay.” You finally say just above a whisper, sniffling softly. Taking his hand into yours, he could feel the way your nerves had you shaking anxiously. His brows furrowed together as you rested his hand over your stomach with a shaky sigh. “Hugh…I know the timing might be sudden. I don't even know if we're ready for this…we're having a baby.”

For a moment, there was a silence that fell between each of you as he processed your words. The concern in his eyes shifts to a radiant level of excitement. “You're pregnant? We're having a baby? We're having a baby!” 

You nod, tears starting to roll down your cheeks. “We're having a baby…”

He pulls you in close with his arms wrapped around you securely, burying his face in the hollow of your neck. You choke put a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder. You pull away just enough to lock gazes with him, resting your hands on his chest as more tears run down your cheeks.

“I love you, baby.” He says softly, making your heart swell.

“I love you too, Hugh.”

[crowfeatherquill]

The Joker is a Shitty Clown

Honestly, this one's just a bit of fun. There's a post floating around somewhere about the Joker getting chased down by a bunch of professional clowns wearing his makeup because he never submitted an egg to the...clown...council (I don't know that it's actually called the clown council). This is semi-related to that.

--

“The Joker is a shitty clown.”

When he says it, the room falls silent. Deathly, even, by some estimates, although those could be classified as a tad dramatic. Jason stares, speechless. Damian does not appear to have noticed that anything is wrong. Tim is the first to speak.

“Do...you want to elaborate on that?”

Dick seems to realize in that moment that the non-sequitur has landed him right at the center of a very dense emotional minefield. He considers that acrobatics run in his family. He considers further that so do unfortunate acrobatic accidents. He chooses his next words carefully.

“I mean first of all he’s not even funny, and that’s, like. Rule one. No clown I ever met had to drug people to get them to laugh at their jokes.”

Realization dawns over Jason’s face like a storm breaking and Tim, diplomatically, chooses not to comment on the way he bites the inside of his cheek to try and fight a smile. He figures it’s fine to let Dick sweat a little over this particular topic -- after all, the Joker is a pretty big sore spot for about half the room, and Dick is not generally so quick to shove his foot all the way down his own throat.

Unsure of his standing and desperate not to lose it, Dick presses on.

“And beyond that, he doesn’t have a gimmick. He doesn’t have a character. There’s no consistency, it’s just...chaos. Which I’ve only seen done well maybe once and to be honest it’s so much extra work and for a beginner, I just- I dunno, it seems like a bad move-”

Jason can’t quite keep back a snort. He tries to cover it with a cough, but Dick knows exactly what the sound means. Jason, smartly, does not attempt eye contact. He prefers to leave the manor on his own terms, and with some of his pride still intact.

“Beginner. Unbelievable…” Tim mutters, but even so he finds himself intrigued. He hadn’t realized Dick had such strong opinions about clowns, although he’s not sure why he’s surprised, given the whole circus-kid thing.

Dick, sensing victory is close at hand, leans forward to deliver what he hopes will be the final blow.

“I’ll bet he doesn’t even know about clown college.”

This is not quite enough to break Jason’s iron will, but it’s a close thing, and Tim affords himself a wry smile. He’s always been the easier of the two of them when it comes to Dick’s antics. 

Dick preens in that self-satisfied big brother way that only he can ever seem to pull off and leans back in his chair.

“Once. Just once I’d like to see that hack do an actual routine.”

“For all his glaring faults, I am forced to concede that the howling menace does appear to have grasped one pillar of the art,” Damian says, primly, looking up from what he’s reading.

Tim raises a questioning eyebrow, and Dick tilts his head, taking on the humor-them expression he wears when he thinks he knows better than his younger siblings. Jason still looks inches away from another untimely death and is therefore ill-equipped to respond in any way that isn’t rigid denial of the near convulsive way his shoulders are shaking.

“Oh? And what’s that, Dami,” Dick prompts, and if he wasn’t so sickenly good-hearted it would almost sound patronizing.

Damian looks at Jason, eyes boring into him like little green needles until Jason meets his gaze. His expression does not change when he speaks.

“Slapstick.”

There is a moment of silence so complete you could hear a pin drop from the other side of the manor. And then Jason is howling with laughter, and Tim can’t help but laugh too because holy shit, and Dick is sitting dumbfounded in his chair, gaping at their youngest brother, who merely gives an imperceptible twitch of the corner of his mouth and returns to his book.

[genericpuff]

hot take, but if you can't enjoy even casual H x P inspired romance stories made for fun without justifying or defending your enjoyment of it with "well ACTUALLY these stories are MORE accurate because Persephone WANTED to go down there, she LIKED it in the Underworld!" then you sound like an out-of-touch adult intentionally omitting/changing facts to scrub the story down for a 5 year old who you know won't question you

and that's not okay ~

[marauders-brain-rot]

How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)

Wrote a really heavy and quite depressing chapter today and needed to fix my brain by writing something cute and fluffy. So, here is 1,468 words of pure Wolfstar fluff. (No Voldy/war, honestly could be with or without actual magic, I don’t make it clear either way so if you want it to be a muggle au then it can be or if you just want it to be a no Voldy au that works too)

Sirius was almost certain he’d wear a hole in the carpet long before Remus got home. He’d been pacing for hours now, his stomach tied in knots thinking about that night and what would come of it. 

It was their anniversary, eight years together as an official couple and tonight would change everything for them. They’d had nights like these before, the kind that would imprint themselves on their memories and brand themselves across their skin, tying them irrevocably together in a way that no one else would ever understand. 

The first was when they’d confessed their love for one another, never ones to do things by halves, that had been the night they’d first gotten together. They’d danced around their feelings for a while before that, their friendship always coming first, until one night where they couldn’t take the tension between them any longer. There’d been a screaming match that ended in a passionate kiss and finally a confession of their undying love for one another. They ended that night wrapped together in Remus’s bed in the boys dormitory, foreheads pressed together and bodies intertwined to the point where it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. 

The next one had been when they decided to get a place of their own, another night full of tears and kisses. They’d gotten a place with James and Peter as soon as they’d left school, wanting to be out on their own but still with their closest friends, who had really become more like brothers. The years spent in that flat had been some of the best of their lives, the nights spent drunk on the floor and sprawled across the furniture would live in their minds forever, as spotty as those memories were. But, they needed their own space. It had been Remus who had said something first, though Sirius had thought it for a while. He loved their little flat with their two best mates, but sometimes he wanted to be alone with the man he loved, wanted to spend nights and days wrapped in one another’s arms without feeling like it was an intrusion on their friends' lives. And so, after a very long and very tear filled discussion, they agreed to start looking. 

Then, they bought their house together. A sanctuary for the two of them that they made entirely their own. Their first night there together was one that he hoped would never leave him, even on his last days on this planet. They’d spent the day unpacking, James and Peter had finally left and the house was quiet at last, something they hadn’t experienced possibly ever. They’d gotten their favourite mugs down from their new home in the cabinet to the left of the sink, poured cups of their favourite tea, put on their favourite James Taylor record and danced in the living room to How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) together with the biggest smiles plastered on their faces.

Then came the night they’d gotten engaged, something that had been magical all on its own. Remus had asked him, because of course he had. Sirius had been planning on asking Remus, but of course he’d beaten him to it. It was private and intimate and unequivocally theirs. If Sirius closed his eyes he could see the rose petals strewn about, the lanterns that lit their home, could smell the undeniable scents of his favourite meal that Remus had spent all day cooking for him. Remus had said some beautiful, wonderful, magical words about how Sirius was his guiding light in the sea of darkness, how he’d have lost himself entirely without him and how he never wanted to bear the pain of living life without the man he’d loved since they were only boys. Sirius kissed him then, couldn’t stand to wait another moment where rings didn’t adorn their fingers claiming them for one another and as soon as Remus placed the one he’d gotten Sirius on his finger, Sirius had sprinted up the steps and practically flown into their room to get the ring he’d gotten for Remus. That night they’d fallen asleep together, their fingers interlocked and rings pressed against one another’s. 

Then, they’d gotten married. It was small, intimate and beautiful, another day with magic thick in the air. Their closest friends were there, and even Regulus came as he and Sirius had mended their relationship years prior, it was everything Sirius had ever wanted. To be able to look into the eyes of the man he loved and tell him how he was the physical embodiment of magic, how he’d loved him for over a decade and still found new reasons to love him every single day, how he had never really known what any kind of love looked like until he’d looked into his eyes. They danced to How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) as their first dance and kissed under the stars in the company of those that loved them most, soaking in every moment of the night together and relishing in the complete togetherness they finally got to experience. 

All of that brought him to now, tonight, a night that would change the rest of their lives just like all the others had. He’d cooked Remus’s favourite meal, gotten his favourite cake from the bakery 45 minutes away and set the house perfectly for the mood. Everything was perfect, everything would be perfect. So why did he feel like something might go wrong? 

He heard the key turning in the lock and felt his breath leave him, there would be no turning back now. As soon as Remus opened the door and saw Sirius standing there a broad smile spread across his face, the confusion coming next as he saw the setting around him. 

“Sirius?” He hadn’t expected them to do anything tonight, Sirius had been planning this surprise for a week now and though their wedding anniversary wasn’t for another month, he felt tonight was the right night. 

“Welcome home, love,” he kissed Remus’s cheek before leading him to the table laden with candles. 

“What’s all this?” His smile was the brightest thing in the room and how Sirius longed for it to last a lifetime. 

“Eat first, we’ll talk after cake.” Was it a slightly cowardly move to put off this conversation? Possibly, but he didn’t want dinner or cake to go to waste if the conversation went how he thought it would. When they’d finally finished eating and the record had stopped for the second time, Remus finally turned expectantly to Sirius. 

“Want to tell me what this is about, love?”

“I want to start off by saying that I love our life here, I love you and I love our home and I love the life we’ve built for ourselves.” He paused, needing his words to sink in before he continued. “And I want you to know that this is because of how much I love you and how much I know you love me, I want us to share our love.”

“Okay?” 

“Do you remember my cousin, Tonks?”

“Of course I do.”

“Right, well, she’s pregnant and she can’t take care of a baby right now. She’s just getting started on her career and she has her whole life ahead of her, she’s in no place to be having a child. But, well, we are.” He paused, waiting for his words to sink in and once they did he watched as Remus’s face transformed entirely. 

“You want to adopt her baby?” The smile on his face rivalled all others Sirius had seen, it practically lit up the world with how brilliant it was. All Sirius could do was nod and swallow nervously. “I would be honoured to have a baby with you.”

That night they laughed and cried, they held onto one another tighter than they ever had before. They got their favourite mugs down from the cabinet to the left of the sink, poured cups of their favourite tea, and put on their favourite James Taylor record and danced around the living room to How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You). 

And how sweet it was, really, to love and be loved in return. To have a lifetime of memories together already and a lifetime of them more to look forward to. To know that their love would live beyond them and would change the lives of not only themselves but also of this new little baby they would be adding into their perfect little world and any others they might end up with along the line. They’d chosen one another, chosen love, and chosen life, and how sweet a life it was turning out to be. 

[thesylverlining]

Might be spite-writing baby's first Disco Elysium fanfic

Because a bitch (me, I'm bitch) saw one too many things that slimmed Harry down (presented as an unambiguous Good Thing) so I had to write Kim adoring his belly before I turned into the got dang Joker

[resident-gay-bitch]

"that's not how you do it." steve said, his tone a little bitchy as he looked at the curly haired boy sitting on the floor in the doctors waiting room across from him.

"what do you mean that's not how you do it?" the boy said with a shriek, holding the ken and gi joe dolls in his hands out aggressively, "they're dolls! they have no rules, idiot."

"don't call me that, i'm not an idiot. i'll tell my mum on you." steve poked his tongue out.

"dibber dobber." the boy poked his tongue right back out, "plus, i don't think you know much about playing with toys because you're stacking jenga wrong."

"i'm building a house with it." steve said simply, stacking another block onto it.

"it's a shit house." the boy said, going back to his dolls.

steve gasped, "you can't say that!"

"my dad says it all the time." he shrugged, "you know, if you can build a really bad jenga house, then i think i can play with the dolls however i want."

"no." steve said, "plus, it's not a bad house!"

"it has no structural inter-egg-raty."

steve scrunched up his nose, "i don't think that's how you say that word."

"i don't care." the boy said, swinging his ken doll out to knock over steves house.

"hey!" steve gasped, and then covered his mouth to cough, "that was so mean."

"just wanted to prove my point." the boy said, "plus, if you think i'm playing dolls so wrong, then you should teach me how to do them right."

steve rolled his eyes and huffed, "fine." he crawled over to the curly haired boy, who was grinning very widely.

"so, are you joe or ken?" the boy said, holding up the dolls.

"neither." steve scoffed, "if you want to make your dolls kiss, it has to be a boy and a girl."

"nuh ahhhh." the boy shook his head out.

"yes." steve huffed, and grabbed a mangled barbie doll out of the toy box to play with, "look... barbie and ken go together. ken and gi joe aren't even close!"

"they're secret boyfriends." the boy shrugged.

"two boys can't kiss." steve glared at him, like he was dumb, and he was.

"yes they can." the boy shrugged.

"no." steve shook his head, "my dad says it's super bad and evil and will make you really sick... is that why you're here?"

the boy laughed brightly, "oh my goodness..." he wiped a tear from his eye, "are you joking me?"

steve shook his head, "no. of course not, stupid."

the boy calmed his laugh a little and smiled, "boys totally can kiss! it isn't bad or evil and it won't make you sick, i promise!" he held out the ken doll to steve, "i haven't kissed anyone... i'm only nine, you know? and i'm here because my mum is sick. why are you here?"

"i haven't kissed anyone either. i'm eight! and... i have a cough." steve shrugged, and then coughed, "mum said it has to go away before my dads work function tomorrow night, because i have to meet his work friends."

"boring." the boy blew a raspberry.

"i really don't think boys can kiss."

"boy's can kiss, just... stupid people just think its bad for some dumb reason."

"hmm." steve shrugged and held the ken doll up, "it looks stupid."

"all kissing looks stupid." the silly boy said, deadpan, "just... i think adults like it because it... is like a super hug or something."

"oh." steve shrugged, "a super hug?"

"yeah..." he said, "it's like... you kiss your family on the cheeks because it's super hugs because you love them."

"right." steve nodded.

"and then... when you think someone is pretty, you kiss them on the mouth because... they're pretty."

"so, why would ken want to kiss gi joe?" steve asked, fiddling with the dolls, "i get why joe wants to kiss ken... but..."

"don't be fooled by his buzzcut." the boy grinned and pulled up the doll's shirt to reveal plastic abs, "i think ken likes muscly men."

"okay." steve shrugged and held up his doll to play, "so... how do we make boys kiss?"

"the same as we make girls kiss." the boy shrugged and cleared his throat, putting on a manly voice as he pretended to be the doll, "oh, hello ken... you look very pretty today. blue is really your colour!"

steve shrugged and put on a ken voice, "thanks gi joe. you look super muscly! can i kiss you?"

"of course, handsome!" the boy giggled and moved his doll in to kiss steves, they made them make out for a while, with lots of kissing noises, "oh, this is the best kiss i've ever had!"

"can two boys be in love too?" steve asked, and the boy nodded with a bright smile, then steve turned the voice on again, "i think i love you joe!"

"oh my goodness!" the boy grinned, "i think i love you too! you are the prettiest boy i've ever seen."

steve giggled and made his doll kiss attack the boys, and then they were both giggling and smushing their dolls together.

once the laughter died down, they just kind of looked at each other for a moment, and steve decided to speak first, "i didn't know boys could kiss."

the boy shrugged, "don't tell your dad about it. he'll probably get mad... it can be our secret."

"okay." steve smiled, a slight blush in his cheeks, "i'm steve, by the way."

"oh... i'm eddie." eddie smiled brightly and held out his hand for steve to shake.

"you have really crazy hair, eddie." steve said.

"i know." he said with a frown, "dad says i have to cut it."

"don't... it's so cool!" steve promised.

eddie seemed to blush at that, "thanks..." he shrugged, "i think you're the prettiest boy i've ever seen, you know?"

steve blushed a lot at that, "do you think?"

eddie nodded, "yeah."

"oh." steve swallowed, he thought this boy was very pretty too, and even though he knocked over steves jenga house, he really liked him, "would you like to kiss me?"

eddie blushed even brighter, "i think so..."

steve swallowed, "i have a cough."

eddie frowned, "i don't mind... if you would like to."

steve smiled, because he would like to, "are you sure?"

eddie nodded.

"okay." steve shuffled a little closer to eddie on his knees, and the curly haired boy turned completely red, "i don't know how to kiss someone."

"me either." eddie said, "i think we just... put our mouths together."

"that sounds right." steve shrugged and started to move forward.

"steven!" his mothers voice rang from the waiting room, "steven, where are you? the doctor is ready to see you."

steve looked around the toy corner to see his mother walking into the doorway, and steve huffed, "i have to go."

"oh... okay." eddie swallowed.

steve smiled, "can i play with you at school?"

eddie frowned, "i don't go to school here. me and mum are just visiting my uncle."

"oh." steve sighed, "will you ever be back?"

"probably." eddie shrugged.

steve smiled, "okay."

"come on, steven. you don't want to keep him waiting." his mother tapped her foot.

"coming." steve said, looking back at her with a smile.

she turned and grabbed her things.

"well..." steve shrugged, "if i see you ever again, then i owe you your first kiss."

"okay." eddie squeaked, still red as a tomato as steve hopped up and ran for his mother, "bye, steve!"

"bye, eddie!" steve shouted, "hope to see you soon!"

★ ☆ ★

Part 2 hereee

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

I know most ppl rlly like gremlin-Moon who’s always picking on and messing with Y/N (BuT LiKE iN aN EnDEaRiNG WaY) but I grew up with three older brothers. Anyway I personally would love to hit gremlin-Moon with a bat

[daydreamgoddess14]

Deserving

Part of the 200 Followers celebration! From the request for @onceuponaoneshot :

Roy Kent x F!Reader - "You deserve better"

Filthy smutty smut y'all. You've been warned! This is also a part 3 to Complaints Procedure & Noisy.

~~~~~

He was gone. 

 

You'd seen the tackle, watched from home as Jamie Tartt knocked him to the floor and damaged his knee for good. He hadn't needed to do anything for the paperwork, Ted had it all under control, and it allowed Roy the distance he needed from Nelson Road. You wondered if you'd even crossed his mind. The boot room hadn't been the end of it. You'd never instigated anything yourself, but he'd sought you out occasionally. You'd let him lose himself in you, always slightly demanding but never degrading, you'd challenge him and go toe to toe on who had the upper hand. He'd wanted to fuck his frustration and anger away and you were a willing participant. It was no strings, no commitments and while you knew it wouldn't last, you didn't expect him to just disappear without a backward glance. 

 

No one seemed to know how he'd fared since he was last seen at Nelson Road and you had no real reason to check in on him. So how you found yourself knocking on his door at 11pm on a random Tuesday night was utterly beyond comprehension. 

"The fuck are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too."

"I mean it, why are you here? Did he send you?"

"Ted? Why would you think that? I thought I'd check in and see how you were?" He grunted. 

"Or you fancied a good fuck?"

"Y'know what, forget I came. I didn't come here to be insulted." You turned to leave,

"No, praise is your thing isn't it? Like to be told you're a good girl." He sneered, leaning against the door frame. 

"Fuck you Roy, you're obviously fine. I'll leave you to it."

"What's up? You're usually into this little fucking game we play?"

"Yeah, when it's mutually good. You're just being a dick for the sake of it. I'm the idiot who thought you might need someone to talk to, I needn't have bothered." You're halfway up his drive when he responds.

"Don't go. At least come and have a drink. You can tell me all the shit everyone's been up to." You cock your head to one side, "I'm sorry for being a dick. I shouldn't have been rude to you." You still hesitate. "You're a sight for sore eyes. It's been too long."

"Who's fault is that?"

"Mine." He admits with a self conscious shrug. 

"You're fucking right it is." Your brushed passed him and into the house, "and I'll have a glass of wine please." You weren't new to small talk with Roy, though it did usually occur after he'd made you come multiple times. You made yourself comfortable on his sofa and watched him in the kitchen, pouring wine from the fridge for both of you. 

"I didn't mean to upset you." He puts the glass down in front of you. 

"You didn't. You know I'm not easily offended, but there's a difference between our usual tête-á-tête and you just being plain fucking mean after 3 months of solitary confinement."

"It's not been solitary."

"I heard you coach 9 year old girls now?"

"Who told you?"

"My niece is one of them, Quinn."

"She's fucking class."

"Hmm. Future England player maybe, according to my twat brother. You're still better than that, though," you drink more, looking for courage in the bottom of the glass, "and I wondered if you might call. More fool me."

"You don't want me to call."

"Says who? You?"

"You deserve better." He sighed. 

"Do I? Is that your conclusion or do I get to make my own?"

"Are you just going to keep questioning my opinion, or actually offer any of your own?" He countered. You smirked over the edge of your wine glass at his frustration.

"Well, you haven't let me have an opinion yet, have you? You've decided that I don't want you to call and that I deserve better, all by yourself. Shall I just submit all future decisions to you from now on?" He shook his head, 

"I've fucking missed your attitude." He stood, taking the empty glass from your hand and putting it on the table, and then gripped your wrist gently to pull you to standing. "I'd carry you, but -"

"You're a fucking idiot," you finished for him, reaching on your toes to kiss him. His arms circled your waist, 

"I'm a fucking idiot," he agreed with a mumble, his lips not leaving yours. You let him lead you to his bedroom. 

"An actual bed? Jesus Roy, you're spoiling me." You laugh, pulling his t-shirt off before taking a step back and slipping your own summer dress off and letting it fall to the floor. Your usual frenetic dalliances have meant that despite knowing your body intimately, he's never actually seen you naked. He drinks in the sight of you in summery coral lingerie in the dim lamplight, his eyes dark as you reach behind to unclip your bra and let it slide down your arms. You drop to your knees in front of him, pulling his shorts down over his hips. He's already half hard. You pull his shorts all the way off, and he steps out of them. On your way back to your goal, you pause just long enough to press a kiss to the inside of his bad knee. You hear the shaky breath leave his body and focus your attention elsewhere which allows him to do the same thing. This is not pity you try to convey with your actions. Your mouth waters in anticipation, all this hurried sex and you've never once had the chance to see him like this, to feel the weight of him in your mouth. You slide your tongue up the underside of his cock and swirl it around the hot tip. He rocks against you, his hands fisted at his side. You take his hands one at a time and put them on your head, looking up his long body to watch his reaction to you pumping his cock with kiss swollen lips. 

"Fuck me, you look so fucking good -" He rasps, his voice strained. You hum in agreement, the vibration running through his body. He tugs your hair lightly, the sensation sending waves of desire to your core and making your thighs rub together in desperation. When he pulls again, it's a request for you to stop, "I need to be inside you," he practically whimpers, pulling you up by the hand. You guide him the couple of steps back to the bed and he sits down heavily, dragging you into his lap as he does. You lift up onto your knees hands on his shoulders for balance as you line him up against you, shifting your underwear to one side. He cups your heavy breast with one hand while the other grabs the swell of your ass as you lower down onto him. With your thighs spread wide over his, the depth is incredible and takes a second to adjust to. His tongue follows his hand across your nipple, taking it into his mouth, rolling it and biting gently. It's enough to have you grinding against his cock and arching your back to have him fill you right to the hilt. Then he echoes the words you've always told him in a desperate whisper, "fuck me." Your forearms on his shoulders give you the perfect leverage to rise and fall on him over and over, the proximity means he's able to lavish attention on your breasts while his hands kneed and grasp your hips, helping you keep your rhythm while his cock splits you open. "God, you're so fucking beautiful," he groans, capturing your mouth in a rough, needy kiss. Considering your previous interactions left you the one feeling needy and yielding, you're currently feeling like the powerful one. He brings his hand up to your mouth, running his thumb across your bottom lip and letting you suck it. He uses it to brush against your clit and you lean back in his arms, partly to give him access and partly so he can watch as you take his cock. 

"See how you fill me up so perfectly?" You breathe, gasping as his circles against your clit bring you closer to release. "Do you even know what you do to me?" You ask, pulling him closer again with a kiss. "This is what I fucking want, this is what I deserve." You tell him. You'd say more, but your words have his hips stuttering as he comes inside you, the feeling pulling you over the edge with him and your words turning to incoherent affirmations and praise. His hands still your hips as you collapse into him, your head falling to the crook of his neck. He kisses your shoulder and up into the spot behind your ear that makes your body unintentionally buck against him. 

"Fucking hell, I'm never avoiding you for 3 months again. You'll be lucky if you get 3 minutes of peace from me ever again." He mutters, biting your earlobe. 

"Promise?" You ask with a low laugh. 

 

FIN

[awesome-opossum-after-hours]

so uhhh chapter 2 of my breagan fic is available please check it out or not your choice idk

not sure why it linked to chapter 1 but if you haven't read that either pls do 💜😎 basically in chapter 2 AB is the Monica to Reagan's Rachel again

[mooni]

tldr apology tour can eat my ass

[stikybug]

POLYCULE BRAINROT 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO?

More likely than you think! The Mystery event gave my little gayhearted mind a delight AND spark of inspiration? More polycule hcs , love wins ! Again, under the cut because this did not just run away from me it yanked me and dragged me around like a giant dog breed.

First hc dump post over here

I'm sure after the successful murder mystery party Lars sets up little hobby activities around st shelter for him and his partners to have excuses to spend more time together.

reactions differ.

Clarence sighs and says he's a bad influence at this point, he joins anyway, work can wait a bit for them ( time itself could arguably stand still for them, he wouldn't mind that at all either )

Alkaid makes 'tiny' suggestions when on normal dates as offerings for more ideas, Lars catches on quickly, this becomes a sort of exchange habit they make. Lars jokes how his 'little spy' is good at setting things up.

He'll probably stop after doing that for the first time, a joke really isn't worth the expression Alkaid made for a split second ,,,

Ayn doesn't need to think twice before agreeing, an entire day spent with the people he loves sounds wonderful

Cael can't help but laugh to himself, his boyfriends are more trouble than he bargained for. Though it is 5 against one with little painter taking his other partner's side

Following Cael getting annoyed while also being unable to ignore the mess he got himself into, Ayn's concert has a sequel!

Which is, Lars outside his apartment with his partners in the background to 'serenade' him.

He has half the mind to ask them how they all got here without him knowing, but he's too busy trying to stop himself from laughing due to the sheer silliness of the stunt

Honest to god, he got closer to failing by the second. When he eventually asks Lars why he's doing this the most concrete answer he got was to come downstairs to see for himself

Seeing all his partners around, light glinting in the streetlight catching on their ring fingers he seemed to get it.

Matching promise rings for all of them.

He almost teared up with this also. He has never taken it off unless it's absolutely non-negotiable

Life seems to slow down when he has it on, every day proves itself to be sweeter than the last.

Aside from the very big changes they have all noticed small changes in their dynamics - It's been feeling more comfortable.

Many things have been admitted that nobody but lovers would be allowed to know, not for the sake of taboo, but as a matter of vulnerability.

The breakdown of these barriers probably started when Alkaid sent a message in a group chat

Recalling an odd movie that he's been losing sleep over - Of some sort of awful future that was in store for him.

Everyone knew what he was about, but none of them confirmed it until he finished talking.

He talked about an awful future where he became everything he feared he was; an elusive 'spy' who hides his thoughts and feelings even from the people he cherished dearly. A duplicitous 'wolf in sheep's clothing' of a person.

Maybe he wouldn't avoid becoming like that in the future, becoming an awful partner who wouldn't deserve any of them. Going behind their backs, deciding what's 'best' for them.

Before he has a chance to spiral fully Clarence says he knows what he's talking about.

He saw an odd movie too, where he gave everything for the sake of a future, and a person he wasn't sure he'd see again in a heartbeat, unaware of how much it would break her heart to see him give until his spark was extinguished.

He was also quick to point out that they, unlike movie characters simply yanked around by the plot for convenience, had a say in the matter of how they'd wish their fate to play out.

It's not like those flaws weren't there, his were hidden gracefully where most wouldn't take notice either.

But surely, if they could support each other without any judgment they'd spare all the heartbreak.

It turned into something of an admission session then. Ayn saying he saw the same type of thing, unable to get to the 'future' with how tightly he clung onto the past that was too far away.

Cael said something similar, the movie showing a past he was sure he'd want to remember - That eventually crumbled from it's own state of stagnation.

And Lars lamented how he'd be doomed to loneliness if those movies were real, and surely a lifetime of misery without his partners at his side, roaming endlessly without a companion.

It was a relief for all of them. Even with everything embarrassing laid out in the open, nobody ran, nobody decided that was enough to end it.

Despite their fears, it seemed that did the opposite of what they were expecting. With all the weight off their shoulders just serving to deepen what they already had.

There wasn't a doubt about it, they had each other and everything would be alright.

[five-and-dimes]

Smile Like You Mean It

Hob wants nothing more than to make his boyfriend laugh. Dream very much does not want to scare away his boyfriend with his laugh. They work through it together.

Read on AO3

Hob Gadling did not have a single ‘life goal’. His life was simply too long for that. No, he merely had current goals; the objective that caught his attention the most at any given moment which he dedicated himself to with the single mindedness of a man who couldn’t die until he succeeded.

And his current goal?

Making Dream of the Endless laugh.

He had certainly come a long way in six hundred years. Or, maybe it was Dream who had come a long way. Since reuniting, his stranger, his friend, was more open with his expressions. Still stoic and poised, for certain, but more willing to grace Hob with small smiles and gentle eyes. The first few months had been a little rough. Dream was clearly trying his best at the whole friendship thing, finally telling Hob his name and agreeing to visit more often, but there were still some growing pains. Hob was reluctant to push for fear of chasing his friend away again, and Dream didn’t seem to know what was expected of him.

(Eventually, Dream had quietly confessed where exactly he had been during their last meeting, reassuring Hob that he had not stayed away intentionally and promising not to run away again. Hob, through his tears- because if Dream would not cry then Hob would damn well cry for him- had put that statement to the test almost immediately, pulling the Endless forward to kiss him softly.

(Dream kept his word. He didn’t run away.)

(He kissed back.)

Now, as they fell more easily into a comfortable rhythm of friendship and more, Hob found himself focusing his attention on coaxing any expression of joy from Dream’s impassive face. Every day he smiled a little easier, like rays of sunshine peeking through the clouds, and Hob couldn’t get enough.

Today, they are sitting in a quiet corner of the New Inn. Hob has learned that jokes and puns don’t get him far, but Dream always loves a good story, and so he is currently regaling Dream with the tale of the time he made the mistake of starting a new life as his own nephew instead of son.

“I just figured I’d mix it up a little,” he groaned, “If anything I thought it would be more suspicious to constantly be claiming to be my own son. How was I supposed to know Helen’s mother still had a picture of us?”

Dream is watching him with rapt attention, as if he will be quizzed on his words later. His drink is untouched as always, and he gives a quiet hum, which Hob has learned is Dream-speak for ‘please tell me more’.

“So Helen comes to me, with this faded picture she found in her attic of my ‘uncle’ who is the spitting image of me, wringing her hands and near tears, explaining to me that she thinks my mom might have had an affair,” Hob put his head in his hands as he remembers the incident, “Honestly, I should have just gone along with it, but I’m bloody awful at fake crying, so of course, what do I blurt out?” He looks up at Dream, putting on a faux surprised face as he reenacts himself, “‘Oh, did I not mention my dad and uncle were twins?’”

Finally, Dream’s blank expression cracks. His eyes crinkle just slightly, and he lets out a soft huff of breath through a smile, the closest to a laugh that Hob ever manages.

And Hob loves it, to be sure, but he can’t help but grin and quip nonchalantly, "One of these days I'm gonna get a proper laugh out of you, just you wait."

The change is immediate.

Dream's face falls so fast it gives Hob whiplash, and his entire body stiffens in his seat, hands clenched in fists on the table. He looks away, so Hob can't quite figure out what emotions are swimming there.

"I do not recommend that."

Hob furrowed his brows in confusion, "And why would that be?"

Across from him, Dream shifted uncomfortably, looking almost… guilty? Before the Endless finally responded, "I have been told my laugh is. Unattractive."

And that has Hob's eyebrows shooting into his hairline, "Wait, really?" Dream nods solemnly, and the grave look on his face has Hob bursting into surprised laughter, "Oh, oh now that's something! Now I really have to hear it!"

When his laughter dies down, he expects Dream to be pouting, perhaps huffing regally or glaring in fond annoyance, as he has taken to do when Hob teases him lightly.

Instead, he is met with a carefully blank stare. The kind that Hob has learned means that Dream is hurting and doesn't want to show it.

"Your efforts would be wasted. I have long broken myself of the habit."

And, well, that is certainly. A loaded sentence. Hob feels the smile slip from his face, as it starts to occur to him that he may have tripped into a landmine without realizing it.

"Laughing isn't a 'bad habit', mate," he responds slowly. He can’t help but tilt his head a little, looking at his friend through a new lens. Dream has always been so stoic, so reserved and guarded and reticent. It had never occurred to him that those traits may have been learned.

Dream is older than Hob- much, much older- and he is too afraid to ask how long Dream has been smothering his own joy.

"Even if you do have an ugly laugh or what have you,” he continued insistently, “that's no reason to just… never laugh again. I mean, come one, laughing is great! It’s, it’s unrestrained joy! Happiness! There’s no bad way to laugh.”

A pause stretches between them. And then, Dream shakes his head. Slowly. A single, deliberate movement from side to side, and he speaks as though reciting a fact of the universe. "Joy is. Unbecoming on me."

Hob has always worn his heart on his sleeve, and even though he somehow manages not to burst into tears at those words, he’s certain he looks as heartbroken as he feels, “Dream,” his voice is pleading, “That’s not the point. That- that’s not what joy is about!” There’s a tinge of desperation in his voice, egged on by the way he finds himself gesturing wildly in front of a being who might as well be a statue for how still he is, “It’s not about looking good, it’s about feeling good. If I had to choose between you being unfairly attractive and you being happy, I’m always going to pick your happiness.”

Part of him also wants to argue that he very much doesn’t believe that there is anything Dream could do that would make him unattractive, that Hob is compromised by his appearance 24/7 no matter what he does. But given how dense and stubborn his friend is, he worries it would be taken the wrong way. So for now, he just leans forward to lay a hand over Dream’s.

“We both know I’m more stubborn than you, so just you wait. I’m going to get a laugh out of you, and we’ll both have a right good time with it, and you’ll find that joy is in fact very becoming on you. And you know I wouldn’t lie.”

For a long moment, Dream just looks at him, blinking slowly like he’s just been handed a particularly vexing puzzle. Eventually, he responds steadily, “I am always happy with you. Even when I do not laugh.”

Huffing lightly, Hob smiles, “Well, I’m glad to hear that my friend. But you won’t dissuade me.”

“Hm. You cannot blame me for trying though.”

That startles a laugh from Hob, and he squeezes Dream’s hand fondly, “No, I suppose not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hob figures, since he is dating the Prince of Stories, that movie nights are a pretty solid bet as far as dates go.

Flipping through the selection of movies on his laptop, he tries very, very hard not to think of the reason why Dream hasn’t experienced these particular stories, instead focusing on the excitement of getting to share them with the one he loves.

Lately, he’s been concentrating on comedies.

He had started with the older ones, suffering through adaptations of Shakespeare’s comedies so that Dream could have something familiar while adjusting to the new medium of film. Then he showed him some of the classics; Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, The Princess Bride, The Great Race, The Marx Brothers. He learned that Dream loved Clue and the idea of a story having multiple endings, but didn’t care for Monty Python’s absurdity.

And through them all, Hob got small smiles and abrupt exhales.

They laid together on the couch, Dream’s back against Hob’s front, Hob resting his arms around Dream’s chest. He barely watches the movies on the screen, so tuned into Dream, trying to ease any tension out of his frame, hoping for at least the gentle shakes of restrained laughter.

But there’s nothing.

When the credits roll, Hob stands, kissing Dream on the forehead before taking their empty wine glasses to the kitchen for a refill. Setting them on the counter, Hob allows himself a sigh of frustration. He hadn’t expected this endeavor to be quite so difficult. Tapping his fingers, he racked his brain for what else he could do to loosen up the stubborn being on his couch enough to shrug off some of his poise.

“Hob.”

Dream never made a sound when he moved, and Hob really should be used to it by now. Still, he jumped nearly a foot in the air at the sound of a voice barely a foot behind him. Whipping around, he clutched at his chest dramatically.

“God’s wounds, Dream, if I could die I think I might have!”

For a long moment, they simply stare at each other. Dream stands tall and regal, hands clasped in front of him, and blinks slowly. There is such gravity in his expression, in the way he carefully considers Hob, as if trying to disarm a bomb.

(Hob looks at him and wants to ask ‘What are you so afraid of? What’s got you so scared of me?’)

(Dream looks at him and wants to ask ‘Is this enough? Is this enough? Why can’t this be enough?’)

(Neither of them ask.)

Eventually, Dream’s eyes flutter closed, and he steps forward to press his face into the crook of Hob’s shoulder. On instinct, Hob circles him with his arms, swaying them both slightly as he buries his nose in wild black hair.

“Everything alright, Dove?”

He feels Dream nod against him, “Yes. I am happy. Here, with you.”

And he sounds happy. Something peaceful and relaxed in his tone that makes Hob’s face crack into a wide smile and squeeze him a little tighter, “Good. That’s what we’re going for, Love.”

Dream hums contentedly, nearly a purr, and Hob figures he must be doing something right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In all the centuries since meeting Dream of the Endless, long before he knew his name, before the lust turned to love, Hob had been convinced that he would never so much as lay a hand on his stranger’s skin. He always seemed so far above him, so unreachable, it had felt like the most painful kind of pipe dream.

So now, six hundred some odd years later, being able to kiss Dream felt like a miracle.

This, too, had taken some adjusting between them. Hob was a tactile person, and he got the feeling Dream was too, but he wasn’t used to it. For the first few weeks, Dream couldn’t help but flinch away from skin contact, and Hob couldn’t help but feel rejected by it. But as time passed, Dream began to relax into the affection, and Hob learned not to take it personally, though it still made him sad to think of how long Dream had gone without kind contact.

Similarly, going farther had taken time. Dream had expressed a want to be with Hob intimately, but taking his clothes off was a struggle. They grew together in this, too. They took it slow, learned each other’s bodies under clothes until Dream was comfortable removing that barrier so long as the lights were dimmed, so long as he didn’t feel displayed.

Now they fell together with practiced ease. They both knew how to make the space comfortable, how to make the other gasp and pant. Hob knew how to ease away the endless tension Dream carried in every part of his body, and Dream knew how to make Hob feel seen and wanted in ways he never had before.

They had both shared a couple bottles of wine, though Hob was the only one seemingly affected by it, his kisses a little more clumsy and a rosy flush over his face. They stumbled into Hob’s bedroom, Dream pulling his body on top of his own, encouraging Hob to press his weight onto him the way he liked. Hob took a moment to kick the mess of sheets onto the floor, his movements hindered by the way Dream was shoving his shirt over his head. He laughed as his arms got tangled in the sleeves, nearly tipping over before Dream’s hands reached to steady him, finally freeing himself of the fabric. He saw Dream’s lips twitching before he zeroed in on Hob’s chest, running his fingers through his thick body hair and palming at his pecs. Hob had always thought he was decent looking, but Dream had a way of bearing down on him with hungry eyes that made him feel like the most attractive man in the universe.

But he doesn’t let himself get too distracted, tugging at Dream’s shirt questioningly and then pulling it off as soon as he’s given approval. The same way Dream is minorly obsessed with Hob’s hair and muscles, so is Hob enamored with the miles of smooth, hairless skin exposed to him now. Dream sighs, his body going lax beneath him and running his fingers lovingly through his hair as Hob kisses along his collar bones.

They are both still in their jeans, but there’s no rush. Leaning back, Hob is happy to take his time admiring his love, smiling at the way Dream’s eyes have drifted closed under his gentle touches. Hob skims his fingers down Dream's sides, brushing over prominent ribs and the vulnerable space of his waist, and he feels Dream twitch, a huff of breath escaping him and at that moment, a lightbulb goes off in his brain.

Suddenly, Hob feels himself grin mischievously, because why hadn't he thought of this before?

Curling his fingers, he drags them back up Dream's skin, not pressing, just fluttering up and down the soft, white skin. Below him, Dream begins to squirm, sucking in a breath, and Hob grins wider, begins to move his fingers just a little faster because he is brilliant and then-

-and then Dream's entire body goes rigid, and cold fingers shoot out to grip Hob's wrists.

"Stop."

Dream's voice cracks with desperation and Hob feels like the scum of the earth.

Before he has a chance to pull away, to give Dream space, Dream is scrambling back, sitting up to press his back against the headboard. All the soft relaxation Hob had coaxed from him is gone, his body wracked with tension, and even cast downward he can see the anxiety and shame warring in his eyes. He keeps his shaking hands around Hob's wrists to hold him at arm's length, as if bracing for Hob to ignore his wishes.

Yeah. Hob definitely feels like scum.

"Hey," he whispers, leaning back and keeping his hands lax and unthreatening, "I'm sorry, it's okay. I won't do that again," he promises. He tilts his head to try to catch Dream's gaze, "I'm sorry."

Dream doesn't respond, but he does loosen his grip. Tentatively, Hob shifts to curl his hands around Dream's softly in return, letting his thumbs stroke the inside of his wrists soothingly. He waits patiently, letting Dream breathe, occasionally whispering soft apologies and comfort while Dream gathers himself.

After several long minutes, Dream swallows thickly, "I do not understand."

Furrowing his brow, Hob asked, "What do you mean?"

There is another pause before Dream answers slowly, his voice thick with fear and sorrow, "You have already seen. All the ugly things inside of me. That you still allow me in your presence at all is a marvel. Why, then, do you seek to see me ugly on the outside? It would be…too much. To ask for you to still want me. If I am, if nothing else, no longer appealing in that way to you."

Hob feels like his heart has been drawn and quartered. His chest goes tight, and there are so many things he wants to say, so many reasons he wants to cry, and they're all fighting for first place in his mind. For too long he simply stares, eyes wide and watery, while Dream curls in on himself, his gaze still locked on his lap.

Finally, finally, Hob gently releases Dream's hands, opening his arms and just barely managing to choke out, "Come 'ere, Love. Come here."

Dream hesitates, his eyes at last glancing up to search Hob's face. Whatever he finds there must be enough though, because he releases a shuddering breath and lets himself fall forward into Hob's arms.

Hob gathers him in his lap, settling in the center of the bed and pressing a kiss against his sharp cheekbone. He grips him tight, and after one last moment of hesitation, Dream curls his arms around Hob's back to return the embrace.

For so long, Hob has felt small compared to Dream. Immortal though he may be, he was still just a human next to an Endless. A speck next to an existence he could barely wrap his head around. Each day, Hob felt it was a marvel for Dream to want him. Not once had he ever considered that Dream might feel less than. It had never even crossed his mind that Dream might think it even a possibility that Hob wouldn't want him in whatever way he was given. As if there was anything that would make Hob give up on him.

Especially something so inconsequential.

"I love you," Hob whispers against his temple, "You. It doesn't matter what you look like, or sound like. Ugly, beautiful, plain, it doesn't matter as long as it's you. I won't stop loving you- won't stop wanting you- just because you're not, I don't know, aesthetically perfect or whatever."

He squeezes the bony body a little tighter, "Although that said, I love you. And so you'll always be beautiful to me. Inside and out."

When Hob pulls back to look at him, there are tears slowly running down Dream's face, and he doesn't look like he believes him.

It breaks Hob's heart.

But they've got time.

Kissing the tears from his cheeks, he makes one last promise, "I'm going to prove it to you. However long it takes. The rest of my immortal life. I'll prove it to you."

Dream still doesn't respond. He simply closes his eyes and swallows back all the arguments bubbling in his chest. They don't have sex that night, but Hob pulls the covers around them and holds Dream until he stops shaking. Until he's warm and relaxed in his arms again.

Dream never responds. But he's still there in the morning, waking Hob with a gentle kiss, and that’s enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hob stops trying after that.

There’s a subtle relaxation to Dream now, as if he has exhaled after months of holding his breath, and it is a painful realization for Hob to acknowledge that his attempts had, in fact, been making things worse.

Nothing for it now but to learn from it, he supposes. So he doesn’t push. He savors every smile Dream graces him with, every soft touch and loving gaze. They start watching different genres of movies and shows, and sometimes Hob manages to convince Dream to go somewhere in the city with him. Dream shows his happiness is a thousand quiet ways, and Hob cherishes each of them.

On this day, Hob isn’t even expecting Dream at all. They had already seen each other several times that week, and Dream was a busy being, so Hob was anticipating a quiet night and maybe a dream-visit later in the evening. They were approaching the one-year anniversary of Dream returning to the New Inn, which Hob knew was a complicated time for Dream. It was, after all, also approaching the one-year anniversary of his escape from the monsters who imprisoned him.

Hob is, admittedly, a little lost on how to handle the occasion. Dream has been dealing with it the way he deals with everything, which is to say he hasn’t mentioned it and if pressed would make some excuse about arbitrary dates or something. So Hob falls back on one of his tried-and-true love languages.

Food.

Sure, Dream doesn’t eat much, if at all, but he knows he appreciates the gesture when Hob offers him treats. So Hob has dedicated the evening after returning from work to trying out a fancy recipe he found for a lavender cake with lemon curd and buttercream. If it works out well enough, he’ll make it for Dream on one of their more official date nights. Cooking has always been more of his forte, but it can’t be that hard to switch to baking, he figures. Besides, last Christmas he splurged on one of those expensive Kitchen Aid stand mixers, so he should be set.

At first, it does go smoothly enough. The lemon curd is thinner than he wanted, but it still needs to cool a little, so he’s not giving up on it yet. He’s beaten the eggs and sugar, and has just poured what he feels is a reasonable amount of flour into the bowl. It’s a little full, sure, but as he drops the paddle in he figures as long as he keeps the setting low he’ll be fine.

And that’s when Dream shows up.

And, to be clear, by ‘show up’, he means just fucking appear next to Hob in the kitchen out of absolutely nowhere.

“Hello Hob-”

Dream is interrupted by Hob’s high-pitched shriek, accompanied by the way his full body flail catches the switch on the mixer. The paddle, half buried in flour, goes from zero to ten, a mushroom cloud of flour engulfing the kitchen followed by waves of egg and sugar.

“SHIT! FUCK!” Hob sputters, waving his arms blindly as his vision is obscured by the explosion of batter, until his fingers finally find the switch and slam it off.

The entire kitchen is hazy with flour in the air, and Hob is sputtering, trying to spit out the mixture that got in his mouth during the explosion. He is spitting into his arm, shaking his hair out like a dog, and so it takes a moment for him to register another sound in the room.

It is, undeniably, a laugh, but only in the sense that there is a distinct “ha ha” to the sound. But there’s a quality to it, like if you scraped gravel across a chalkboard, deep and low pitched but still somehow grating, broken up by long notes that remind him of a braying bloodhound.

Snapping his head around, he only catches the last moment. There is a split second where he sees Dream, flour in his hair and bright streaks of egg and sugar on his black clothing, his eyes bright with glee, his mouth smiling wide enough to show his teeth, sees how his whole face seems softer and brighter and he hunches slightly under the force of his laughter.

Dream’s laughter.

Only for a second though. As soon as their eyes lock, Dream chokes on a breath. He actually takes a step back, away from Hob, as he slaps both hands over his mouth, fingers curling to clutch at his own jaw, and he doesn’t go red with embarrassment, but gray from mortification.

Deep in his mind, Hob knows he should be saying something comforting. Something to console the anxiety that is obviously crackling under Dream’s skin like an electric current. He should definitely be doing something soothing.

But the sound of laughter is still ringing in his ears, every splitting note of it echoing in his head, and, really, there is only one way to respond to that awful, ridiculous noise coming from Dream's mouth:

"Marry me."

Dream's hands are still covering his mouth, but Hob sees the way his eyes widen, and his shoulders jerk up to his ears, and he thinks he hears a muffled squeak of surprise, and what else can he do but-

"Marry me right now."

They spend a long moment staring at each other. Slowly, so slowly, Dream pulls his hands away from his mouth, just an inch or so, still ready to clamp down anything he deems unseemly, but enough to let out a soft, "Pardon?"

And, really, how could anyone be expected to stand in front of this Endless- this unfathomable, multifaceted being who is powerful and elegant and ridiculous and adorable and perfect- and not leap forward to embrace him?

Dream's hands are still in the way, and so as Hob wraps his arms around him, his lips land on his knuckles, pressing the hands back against Dream's mouth just as another surprised squeak escapes him and Hob is so in love. He doesn’t care that they are making a bigger mess, and Hob's kiss is no less enthusiastic for the bony barrier between their lips. It's still Dream's skin, and so it is still a gift.

Eventually, he pauses long enough for Dream to uncover his mouth, his hands hovering over Hob's chest, barely touching enough to leave light fingerprints in the batter coating his shirt. He blinks in confusion and Hob is smiling so wide his cheeks ache.

"You. Do not think it is…?"

Hob pulls him tight against his chest, peppering kisses all over his face, careless of the flour getting in his mouth as he rambles lovingly, "It's ridiculous. You sound like a choking donkey. You've never looked more beautiful. It's hideous. It's perfect. I want to hear that laugh every day for the rest of my life."

When he looks, Dream's eyes are shining with tears, but he's also smiling, his face full of wonder and fragile hope as he whispers, "That is. A long time, Hob Gadling."

He's still smiling, which makes their teeth click when Hob leans in to kiss him properly, "Longer, if I have any say in it,” with effort, he pulls back just enough to point out, “You haven’t answered my question by the way.”

Raising an eyebrow, a bit of shyness returned to Dream even as he replied petulantly, “You did not phrase it as a question.” Hob rolled his eyes, and Dream continued, “That was not. One of your jokes?”

“My love,” Hob takes one of Dream’s hands, laying the other over his own heart dramatically as he drops to one knee on his disastrous kitchen floor, “I have never been more serious.”

Dream burst out laughing.

Tugging on Hob’s hand, he pulled him to his feet and pressed their mouths together, “You ridiculous, absurd, wonderful man,” Dream declares when he can catch his breath, “Nothing would bring me more joy than to call you my husband.”

Eventually they have to stop kissing.

They are both laughing too hard against each other's mouths.