[Not quite an author’s note, but more so a confession: I went line dancing the other night… I wish it went like this 😮💨 This do be self-indulgent PWP below the cut :) ]
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“I feel like an absolute schmuck. I look like an absolute schmuck. Cowboy hats aren’t meant to be worn this far west, it’s just not a good look,” Danny laments aloud, then catches his girlfriend’s eyes narrowed at his comment and quickly amends, “Except you, my dear, look absolutely adorable in yours.”
“That’s because you’ve got Jersey written all over your ugly mug,” his best friend ever so kindly informs him before taking a pull from his second beer of the night. “Gimme that.”
Steve takes the felt hat off of the blonde’s head and dons it himself instead, adjusting the brim low enough to hide the way his gaze is fixed on one young woman twirling around the dancefloor.
You throw your head back with a laugh as your current partner in the circle dance spins you to the next, and you take your new partner’s hand without missing a beat. Steve is absolutely mesmerized by the way you move so effortlessly, gliding between the complicated steps without a care in the world, your ponytail swinging in the same rhythm as your tempting hips.
“Hey,” Melissa yells to be heard over the pounding bass of the country song, nudging Steve hard enough to break him out of his trance. He turns to her and she lifts the brim of the hat before challenging, “Why don’t you get in there instead of ogling her all night, Commander?”
He’s grateful the flashing lights turn red at that moment to accompany the song change and graciously hide the heat creeping across his cheeks. “Am I being that obvious?”
“I’m surprised someone hasn’t put out a restraining order yet,” Danny’s quick to jibe. “Although I guess you’re meeting the requisite fifty feet.”
“You’re a riot,” the brunette grumbles under his breath before downing the rest of his beer. He twists around to place the empty bottle on the table, then turns back to find his view of the dancefloor blocked by a pair of jean shorts and a crop top sporting the skeletal head of a bull, if he’s not mistaken.
“Forgive me if I’m wrong,” your sweet voice settles over him like the Hawaii sunshine after a cool morning swim, “but y’all came out on a line dancing night and have yet to get to dancing.” A finger tips the brim of his hat even further up, and Steve comes face to face with the vision he’s been silently pining after all evening. He opens his mouth to answer, but finds himself speechless for quite possibly the first time in his adult life.
Thankfully, you fill the silence by chatting with Melissa, letting Steve bask in the touch of warm southern drawl woven around your words, and a different kind of heat floods his face this time thinking about what that sweet accent would sound like calling out his name tonight. He zones out while you prattle on, indulging in his decidedly not-safe-for-work fantasy and appreciating the way the cuff of your shorts sits snugly on your thick thighs just below the curve of your ass. Of all the things he’s been jealous of touching you tonight, denim takes the crown for being the most absurd.
“Commander Cupid,” Danny barks, roughly swatting at Steve’s shoulder to get his attention. “She’s talking to you, you putz.”
He clears his throat before turning his focus to you with an apologetic smile. “Got lost in my thoughts there,” he says by way of an explanation, and the twinkle of mirth in your eyes tells him you have a pretty good idea of just what those thoughts entailed.
“I asked if you wanted to come dance or just sit here watching me all night,” you repeat, one eyebrow cocked playfully.
“Oh, I, uh-” He knows he’s caught, and he lets out a soft laugh while shaking his head. “Totally busted, huh?”
“Tell you what,” you declare confidently, letting your hair fall loose from its elastic confine before palming the felt hat and settling it snugly on your head with a smirk. “I’ll make the decision for you.”
You start your journey back to the dance floor, clapping along to the kick drum announcing the beginning of that one Luke Bryan song that everybody always seems to know. You throw a wink over your shoulder and Steve stands to join you, pausing mid-step when Melissa hollers his name. He turns back to find an elated grin on her face, and she calls out, “Do you know the rule?”
Steve raises one eyebrow and shakes his head, curious.
“If you wear the hat…”
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“...you ride the cowboy,” you exclaim breathlessly in the back of Steve’s Silverado, your thighs burning from exertion. “Never heard that one before?”
“Nu uh,” the brunette answers rather unintelligently, the second syllable morphing into a groan when you roll your hips against his, somehow slotting his length even deeper in your heat. His hands find your love handles of their own volition, kneading the soft, warm skin there while you mouth hungrily at the sharp planes of his stubbled jaw.
He plants his feet on the floor of his truck before using his bruising grip as leverage to buck up into you, your hips kissing with every thrust as his lips find yours once more. You moan into his awaiting mouth, every coherent thought in your head disappearing, replaced by a mantra of your devilish lover’s name.
“That’s it, baby,” Steve rumbles out his praise. “Take everything I give you like a good girl.”
“Fuck yes,” you cry out, your head falling back and giving him the opportunity to run his nose down your exposed throat, a light scraping of teeth following in its wake. “Bite me,” you plead, and he’s quick to obey, sinking his teeth into the dip where your neck and shoulder meet.
Your walls tighten around his cock at the pleasurable tinge of pain, forcing Steve to let out an involuntary whimper against your skin. You pull back with a gasp, cupping his cheeks between your two smaller hands and feeling his face grow hot beneath your fingertips. “Oh my god,” you manage to get out between incessant pants every time your hips meet. “Do that again.”
“You like th-” The incredulous question dies on his lips, cut off by another soft whimper when you intentionally flex your muscles around him.
“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard come out of a man’s mouth,” you declare, excited by the new discovery. “Don’t you hold back on me now.”
He doesn’t.
Spurred on by your praise and just how fucking hot it is for someone else to order him around for once, Steve allows himself to be vocal, all manner of delicious sounds escaping his kiss-bitten lips while you ride him for everything he’s worth.
“That’s it, baby,” you echo his words from earlier with a positively dangerous grin. “Take everything I give you like a good boy.”
“Fuck,” he breathes out, his cock twitching in response to your overt display of dominance. This is new for him, too, and he decides at that moment that he’s going to have to explore this side of himself more often.
“What is it, Steve?” you ask, your taunt coated by your honey-sweetened accent. “You need to cum? Need to fill this little pussy up?” An unintelligible noise works its way up from low in his throat, and he stares up at you, dumbstruck. “Is that a ‘yes’?”
Steve nods desperately, not trusting his voice to form a response in a coherent manner.
“Oh, sweet boy,” you coo, carding your fingers through his hair, slowing down the torturous twisting of your hips, your other hand teasing your clit. He holds your thighs in a vice grip, his own quaking beneath your body in an attempt to stave off his impending orgasm. Then you tuck one finger under his chin and lift his gaze to yours, and the single syllable you utter shatters the last of his resolve. “Beg.”
Hot ropes of cum paint your walls as Steve lets out a debauched groan, his head falling back against the seat of the truck while you apply steady pressure to your clit, letting yourself crest over the edge moments after him.
You give Steve some time to recover, pressing gentle kisses to his sweaty skin and running your nails along his scalp until the heaving of his chest gives way to steadier breathing. “You okay, baby?”
“That-” He stops, shaking his head and opting to capture your lips in a tender kiss instead of voicing his feelings.
“I figured after the week you had, fighting with the FBI over jurisdiction on your case, you might like to give up control,” you offer by way of explanation, sinking further into his lap to rest your head in the crook of his neck.
“Yeah, you could say that,” your boyfriend laughs, in awe of your uncanny ability to read him so easily. His fingers trail up and down your spine and you settle into his warmth with a content sigh before cheekily adding, “Didn’t think you’d like it that much, though.”
A laugh rumbles out of him again and he admits, “I knew you were a switch, but I didn’t think I was, too.”
“Surprise,” you respond, and he feels your lips turn upward in a smile against his skin. “And here you and Danny were being resistant to line dancing. I told y’all it’s fun, didn’t I?”
He hums in agreement, then adds with a self-satisfied lilt to his voice, “Kind of you to save a horse tonight, sweetheart.”
You snort in response, clambering out of his lap to fix your clothes for the ride home. Finding the discarded cowboy hat in the truck’s passenger seat, you return it to its rightful spot on your boyfriend’s head. “I’ll turn you into a country boy, yet, Steve.”
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[A/N (for realsies): Don’t ask where this came from, tbh I blame WhimperTok for r u i n i n g me. And I just know this big, tough man is secretly a lil slut who wants to be Commander outside the bedroom but Commanded™️ in the bedroom, u feel me? I may have to explore this more 👀]
First time posting my work on here. Um, hello. On a Zamasu binge right now.
Porn with very slight plot. And some fluff, but it's Zamasu, so, you know. I just like writing things that are self indulgent, and he deserves more love. Also not spell checked. We die like men, and spell checking with ADHD is practically impossible anyway. And it’s written in first person pov because I suck at second person. Otherwise. Enjoy, I guess.
Rating: NSFW. 18+. Obviously.
Word count: 3,095
Summary: Zamasu gets... a little jealous that another mortal dared to flirt with his special human.
“I’ve never seen you so nervous.”
To have a Supreme Kai staring you down - it’s a harrowing experience. Especially because it was Zamasu. Gray, hungry, narrowed eyes were staring directly through my own, going all the way down into the depths of my soul. He was standing mere inches from me. We’d been having a discussion, which was absolutely normal, but I brought up the fact that some random dude on the street had asked for my phone number in passing. That’s when he first got that look in his eye, his voice got lower, and I could see that something was brewing within the darkest corners of his mind.
“Zamasu.” My voice came out quiet and weak, almost like a stutter. “What’s gotten into you?”
His fingertip just barely touched my chin, tilting my head up toward his own. I had to look at him, no matter how flushed my face was getting. He wasn’t much taller than me, but it was just enough for him to be intimidating. The height difference made me feel small and helpless, but in the depths of my own mind, I didn’t hate the feeling. And I think he knew that. “The idea that any of these barbaric, uncivilized mortals could believe, even for one moment, that they have the right to someone as divine as you is absolutely revolting.”
I backed up a little. Just one step, but he followed suit. I responded, “That’s… why I told him no.”
“As you should.” A smirk was pulling at the corner of his lips. “Do the same with everyone who dares to ask for even a sliver of your affection.”
I blinked a few times, and I felt his thumb brush my jaw. “I… don’t understand. What is this about? You know how I feel about people, so-“
“What I am saying… is that there is but one being who is worthy of you.”
I swallowed roughly. “… Who?”
“Me.”
The response came out so commanding, as if it were the absolute truth. My breath caught in my throat. His stoic, never-changing expression told me that he wasn’t lying. “You… want me? But I’m…”
“A mortal? Ah, no. You’re a…special case.” His hand rested on my cheek, and his thumb brushed my lower lip. He usually had a confident aura, but now, it was penetrating through my soul. Paralyzing me. “I’m surprised it took you so long to notice. Mortals do tend to be quite oblivious, so I won’t take offense.”
“You… want me.” That came out barely audible, more repeating it so I could believe it myself. It made him smirk. My eyes couldn’t leave his, but I noticed him take a quick glance at me. My body, more specifically. “In, um… what ways?”
He moved centimeters closer as he confessed, “in all ways, darling. If that’s alright with you.”
“Wouldn’t that… break rules?”
“Supreme Kai law? Perhaps.” He brushed a piece of hair from my face. “But you of all people should know that I care little for those old-fashioned doctrines.”
“I see.” A brief silence ensued until I whispered back, “then, it’s alright with me.”
“Are you sure?” That came out almost teasing. “Once you start, there’s no going back. I’m sure you’re aware.”
“…I’m sure.”
He smirked in such a feral way that it exposed one of his fangs. “Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, my dear.”
That’s when his lips met mine. It startled me, but at the same time, I melted. I melted at such a quick rate that I couldn’t believe it. He pushed me against the wall, hands sliding down my sides. When I started to reciprocate, it was like all inhibitions were thrown to the wayside. His body was right against mine, and his tongue snaked right into my mouth. He tasted… like cedar. I wasn’t sure how to explain. A sap, more bitter than honey, but still retaining an intoxicating sweetness. On top of that, he was kissing me like he hadn’t had a taste of physical contact like this in hundreds, if not thousands of years. Then he pulled back and laughed to himself, murmuring, “exquisite. Even better than I imagined.”
I was trying to catch my breath. “You’ve… been thinking about this?”
“Of course I have. You invaded my thoughts. Thoughts of grandeur being tainted with thoughts of desire. I tried so hard to resist, but I can no longer do so.” His hand was sneaking underneath my shirt, but I was too enamored with his eyes to look down. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to see you for everything you are. To devour you. To make you mine.”
With that, he began to kiss me again. I knew how privileged I was. To be in such close contact with a Supreme Kai - a being like Zamasu - no other being in the universe would be given the opportunity. His hand was slowly pulling my shirt up, and then he separated from me to remove it entirely. My face grew red because I knew he was checking me out, but again, it made me feel small. Finally, he said, “come here.”
He pulled me toward my bed and he sat down on the edge. He spun my back toward him and pulled me onto his lap, guiding me to straddle one of his legs. With my back against his chest, I could feel his breath against my neck. His hands were sliding up my bare thighs, then to my hips, and then up to my chest. With ease, he undid the clasps, and my bra slid to the ground. Why he didn’t bother with my skirt was beyond me, especially when he turned my face to his. He whispered, “You are simply divine, darling.”
He didn’t give me a chance to speak. His lips met mine and his hands groped my chest. I couldn’t help it - seeking friction, my hips rolled against his thigh. What pained me more was the fact that he was still fully clothed. I couldn’t get as much as I desired. When he started teasing my nipples, I could tell that he was playing with me, much to his own amusement. When he started pinching them, I moaned into his mouth. It was shameless. He pulled back from my lips, and diverted his attention to my neck. Kissing and nipping at my skin, my body was reacting exactly how he wanted. He was chuckling to himself. Embarrassingly, it was almost too much, even though he’d done so little. I groaned, “Zamasu…”
I could feel his body tense as he said, “oh, that was marvelous. I’ve never heard anyone say my name like that before.”
He bit the side of my neck hard, triggering another groan. He would bite every sensitive spot he could find. One of his hands moved to my hip, guiding them in the same pattern they’d been grinding in, just with more force. I whimpered, mentally noting that I should’ve guessed he’d be some sort of sadist that liked to play with his food.
I heard him smirk as he said, “a sadist? I suppose so. Playing with you is far too much fun.”
I blushed hard. I would often forget that Kais could read minds, and I had no doubt that he’d been reading mine the entire time. I felt his hand slide underneath my skirt, moving dangerously close to the area that most of my body heat was gathering in. My hips bucked toward his hand, which made him laugh. “So reactive. Would you like me to do something?”
Even the tone of his voice was enough to make my body hotter. “I… need you to touch me.”
“You’ll need to elaborate, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”
As he said that, his fingers inched closer. One of his fingertips was just barely grazing my clit through my panties. “I need… your fingers.”
“Where, darling?”
My hips bucked against his hand which made me blurt out, “in me. Please.”
“That’s a good girl. I suppose I can oblige.” He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss against my neck, and he took no time when picking me up and placing me down on the bed. The skirt was an easy thing to unzip and pull off, and my panties went with it, falling to the floor. His eyes were dark as he removed his overcoat, hanging it over the chair at my desk. He climbed over me with a predatory gaze as he mumbled, “oh, Gods, you are absolutely heavenly.”
That’s when I felt his hand touch my core. He explored everything with his fingertip, giving me a light kiss as he did so. He pulled back, leaving his lips brushing against mine as he looked down. “To think you could get this worked up so quickly… that’s sinful, darling. I’ve barely started.”
I tried to respond, but he pressed two fingers into me with absolute ease. He drove them into me as far as they could go, and he held them there, prompting me to try to move my hips. “Ngh, Zamasu-“
“Needy, are you?” He pulled his fingers back, and then pushed them into me once more, making me bark out a sound that resembled a groan. The smirk on his face told me that he was loving every second of this. I squirmed. He was holding his hand still. Then, he whispered, “I’m sure you can be louder than that. I suppose I’ll find out, won’t I?”
Only then did he begin to move his fingers. At a slow, but steady pace, always forceful when pushing them back in. He liked the way my body would jerk, and he liked the way my face would contort. I could hear it in his breath, which was getting deeper and more husky by the minute. Then, he curled his fingers, which made me groan his name again. It made him chuckle. “Yes, beautiful. Do it again.”
His fingers quickened in pace. My back arched up, pressing me against him. He kissed me. My fingers were gripping the sheets, and I felt him add a third finger. The stretch sent heat shooting through my body. It made my toes curl. It made my breathing go rapid, to the point where he pulled back just to watch me squirm beneath him. Finally, I mewled, “Zamasu… I… I’m gonna…”
And just like that, his fingers stopped. The high I was desperately seeking faded away, leaving me speechless. And he was smirking darkly as he slowly withdrew his fingers from me. When I was about to complain, he shushed me. “No, darling. You need to be patient. That was simply just to prepare you. Do you understand?”
I nodded shakily, every urge to complain fading away. I quietly responded, “Yes. I understand.”
“Good girl.” I felt him press a gentle kiss to my forehead. He whispered, “Now, give me a moment. Relax.”
I felt him move off the bed. My head was spinning. Not just from orgasm denial, but from his sudden shifts in demeanor. He could go from cruel to sweet in the blink of an eye. I was trying to catch my breath, staring at the ceiling through lidded eyes as I listened to fabric moving around. Then, I felt him crawl back over me, once again rubbing his thumb on my cheek. “Feeling alright, darling?”
I nodded, leaning into his touch. “Yes.”
“Good.” He brushed hair out of my face. He looked so… nice. Genuine, like he usually did. “Now, I need you to move up just a bit. Can you do that?”
I nodded, slowly pulling myself toward the top of the bed. He urged me along until my head was resting atop a pillow, and then he moved atop me. That was the first time I felt his bare skin against mine. It was strangely cold, and it sent a shiver down my spine. He kissed me passionately, hips pressing into my own. I could feel his length rubbing along my core, which made my lips quiver. He pulled back from the kiss and said, “I’m going to ravage you now, darling. Are you ready?”
I nodded quickly, hesitantly folding my arms behind his neck. He allowed me to touch him without question or protest. Then, his forehead pressed against mine as he slowly slid himself into me. We both let out a groan at the same time, and the farther he pressed himself in, the more my mouth fell agape. My hands grabbed at his skin, and he once again hushed me. “I know, sweetheart. It’s a bit of a stretch for you, isn’t it? But I have no doubt you can take it.”
“Oh, God…” I whimpered that with tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. When he was fully sheathed within me, I was holding onto him for dear life as my body adjusted. I had no idea what the anatomy of a Kai was like, but something like this was completely unexpected. I could see him sweating, using every fibre of his being to hold himself back until I was ready. Finally, I let out a deep exhale and said, “you… can move. Go ahead.”
He wasted no time. He pulled himself almost all the way back out, and then pressed himself back in. He did it again and again at a slow pace. On his face was a look of pure ecstasy as he acquainted his body to mine, and then his eyes stared down at me. He leaned back just enough to push one of my legs up against my torso, and at that moment, I knew I was quite literally fucked. As he stared down at me, he said, “This… is a sight I could very much get used to.”
I didn’t get much time to look at his physique before he started driving himself into me down to the hilt. The whines and groans that were pouring out of my mouth were loud and lewd, my hands searching for anything and everything to grab ahold of. The pace he was moving at was forcing me upwards with every thrust, and he looked like he was in a state of complete bliss. It didn’t take long for me to be pushed over the edge, which made him groan in a way that could’ve made me do it again if I had the physical ability. I saw him smirk as he said, “Gods, that was amazing. I wonder how many times I can make you do that?”
I saw an idea flash past his eyes, and he was quick to remove himself from me before turning me onto my stomach. He grabbed my hips, pulling them upwards with a feral look in his eyes. I was looking back at him as he plunged himself into me once again, taking up the same brutal pace as before. He leaned over me, mouth just inches from my ear as he growled, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything as divine as this before. You must be from heaven. I’m wholeheartedly convinced.”
“Y-You…” I could barely speak. The sheer amount of girth was hitting every single spot it could find. It was sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve in my body. I could barely mewl out, “so… good.”
“You poor thing. You can barely speak, can you?” He bit my neck, which triggered an immediate moan. “Heh. You like being mercilessly dominated by a god, don’t you?”
His pace didn’t falter, not even as he spoke. My body was contorted, chest against the bed and hips in the air. Between breaths, I responded, “I-I… I do.”
Then, he grabbed both of my wrists and pinned them behind my back with one hand. With the other, he had a bruising grip on my hip as he asked, “And what God is giving you the privilege to feel such pleasure?”
His pace was unforgiving. I came undone again as soon as he said that, which made him grunt. My brain was having trouble formulating words, but I cared little. No one I had ever done anything with made me feel anything close to what I was feeling. I whined, “You.”
He snapped his hips into me particularly hard as he ordered, “Louder. Tell me who you belong to!”
I yelled out, “You, Zamasu!”
“Good girl.” His pace stopped for a matter of seconds as he flipped me onto my back again, plunging himself into me as he delivered a violent kiss to my lips. One of his hands remained on my hip, and the other tangled itself in my hair. He was overwhelming me, and the only thing I could think about or feel was him. My body was in a constant state of pleasure. I couldn’t have even known if I’d come or not. What got my attention was when his pace became much less rapid and disorganized, and he couldn’t continue kissing me. His head fell to rest against the crook of my neck, and my nails raked down his back.
“Oh, Gods,” he groaned that right into my ear, which caused me to groan in response. With a few more hard thrusts, his pace slowed. He came to a complete stop deep within me. He must’ve hit a climax himself. Both of us were covered in sweat, and he caught his breath much faster than I could catch my own. He said in a sultry voice, “I’m surprised. You took that very well.”
I opened my eyes just a sliver to look at him. My voice was so quiet that I doubted anyone could’ve heard it. “Thank… you.”
“I think I’m going to stay here for a while.” I could see a satisfied smile on his face. I felt his body relax, and he held my head against the crook of his neck. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
“No… I don’t.” Laying there with him, as he stroked my hair, I could feel myself falling asleep. Being in such close proximity with him - being in his arms - it made me feel untouchable. To be the one exception. The one treasure. “I don’t mind…”
“Hush. You’re rambling, dear.”
“I... sorry…”
“It’s alright.” I felt him press another kiss to my forehead. Yes, safe. That’s the way I felt. To sleep in the arms of a God… it was nothing I ever expected to happen. “Sleep, darling. No harm will come to you so long as I’m with you. That, I promise.”
Warnings:Public sex,Overstimulation,Oral both receiving,Creampie,Horribe Puns,Hand job,fingering,Porn without Plot?,Teasing,Light-Medium Food play (frosting,whipped cream),Straight into the smut
“We’ll aren’t you a dirty little thing” Sampo chuckled as he caught his friendly neighborhood baker in her office with two of her fingers plunged deep inside her dripping wet cunt, liquid arousal streaming down her thighs.As soon she heard his voice her whole body froze up as she heard his voice her eyes slowly drifting up to his large frame. “S-Sampo…” her voice crackling slighty small tears in her eyes from the pleasure she was giving herself.”Aww don’t stop now I was enjoying the show” the blueberry haired man teased.He wasn’t going to let her forget this not even for a second.”Cmon keep moving those fingers in that pretty pussy of yours” he cooed walking up to her and pulling a chair up setting himself down it legs spread and all leaving much to the imagine.[Name] the girl caught in this predicament just closed her legs with embarrassment gaze glued to the ground.”shy are we,then I’ll guess I’ll have to encourage you” Sampo got up and picked up the girl who was dam near trembling.He placed her on his lap her wetness making a wet patch on his thigh.”Go on ride my thigh sweetheart” he cooed his hand trailed up and down her waist.”I-I cant..I can’t do this…” [name] spoke up tears of embarrassment threatening to spill.
summary: Hopper, your father, is going on a date, while El is going to hangout with her friends as well. Leaving you home alone with the company of Argyle.
WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ minors dni), 69ing yup, pwp
a/n: okay this isn't the fic for the 50 follower special but someone requested this like two days ago and I wanted this one out too. requests are open <3
Your father, Hopper, was going on a date with Joyce. He was pacing around the house, stressing out on what to wear. You and El were in your room, having a sister bonding moment. She was applying makeup onto you, experimenting with different things. You don't mind, you just want to get as much time as possible with her. El was about to leave to go hang out with Will and Mike, who was staying at the Byers house while down in California for a bit. That left you home alone with Argyle.
“Hey, tell me does this look good?” Your father asks opening your door. He was wearing a navy henley shirt and khakis. “It’s cute, I guess.” You say hoping that it sounds convincing.
“It is very cute.” El says as she continues to put makeup on you. “Dad, you look fine, don’t even worry about it.” You reassure. He huffs out in acceptance and calms down. “El, you ready to head out?” He asks, enthusiastically she got up from your bed and made her way to the door.
“Is that kid you call a boyfriend coming over?” You could feel the tension in the room all of sudden as you reach to grab a makeup wipe.
“His name is Argyle, Pops,” you say as you begin to wipe off the makeup, “and yes, he is.” Hopper thought he could have a heart attack. His kid with another kid in a house unsupervised! He might die from the thought of it. “Don’t sweat it, we’re just going to watch a movie.”
“It better just be a movie or I swear to god–”
“Dad! You’re going to be late.” You say ushering him out of your room and out the house. You watch as El and him walk to the car and get in. “Use protection!” You call out as your dad rolled down the window and flipped you off. His car backed up from the driveway and made its way to the Byers. Causally, you went to pick up the phone and began to dial Argyle.
▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
You and Argyle were watching some stupid horror movie in the living room. Your head rested on his lap while he sat up. The same cliches would play over and over. Teens doing dumb shit and getting killed for not using one percent of their brain. It’s getting boring. Argyle, for some reason, enjoyed this. Alot. Desperately, you wanted his attention. Slowly, you began rubbing his thigh. You could feel Argyle tense underneath you.
“Dude.” He mutters. He’d be embarrassed by how quickly he’s getting hard just from the gentle teasing.
“What, man? I’m just playing around.” You say as you continue. Argyle gave your butt a little slap as you curled onto the couch giggling.
“Come on, man, your dad is gonna, like, be home any time soon.”
“That just means we have to hurry.” You purr, taking his hand to head to your room. The two of you head into your room, closing the door behind you. Once inside, you lead Argyle onto your bed and pull down your pants, leaving your panties for him. “Let me play with you.” You whisper.
“Bring that ass up here, let me play as well.” He groans. You put your cunt towards his face while yours met his cock. He pushes your panties to the side and begins to attach his lips onto your clit. Your mouth licks up onto his dick. He was getting stiff underneath your touch as you took your time on him. You wanted this to last as long as possible. Stroking him while sucking his tip, you skillfully moved your tongue onto his tip. Finally, you opened your mouth a bit more, taking him a bit deeper into your mouth. He licks eagerly onto your clit, rubbing softly with his tongue.
You moan onto his dick as he continues licking. He bucks his hips a bit causing you to gag a bit, you pull him out of your mouth to get a breather. “That’s not very nice.” You pout.
“I’m sorry,” he moans. “ Let me make it up to you.” He wraps his arms around your legs and pushes you down to his face. It catches you by surprise as he laps up your cunt. You could feel yourself dripping onto his face as he begins to dip his tongue into you. You don’t want to feel selfish so you reach down and begin to stroke him. You drip spit onto your hand as you begin to pick up the pace.
He sucks on your clit and brings his hand to your cunt, inserting them in. A moan leaves your throat as he begins to curl his finger inside. He quickens his paces and adds another in, curling in a rhythm. The sound of your moans and your wetness feels the room, the familiar coil coming back again. Argyle could eat you up for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was his favorite thing. You could feel yourself reaching your high as your toes curled. You reached for his cock. Knowing that he was about to cum himself as his stomach kept on tensing,and massaged it quickly.
“Cum for me babe.” You moan out for him. His eyebrows furrowed as he thrust into your hand, releasing his seed into your palm. You lift your hand up to your mouth and lick his cum off.This doesn’t stop him though from eating you out. He wants you to come from his mouth. His arms that are wrapped around him makes you move onto his face, riding it ever so slightly. The lustful noises of sucking and moaning fills the room as his only mission left is to make you cum. Your thighs clench around his face as you instantly meet your high. You whine as you release onto his face. Argyle swore he nearly drowned.
Suddenly, you hear the car door slam. Your head snaps to your door as you come back to reality, too quickly for you liking. A string of curse words leave your mouth as you get off of Argyle’s face. You grab a towel quickly and toss it to him.
“My dad is back!” You whisper–shout. Argyle’s sense came back as he quickly wiped his face. You quickly find your pants while Argyle was situating himself. You dad though was in the house now with El following suite behind him. He sees the tv still on with the menu screen of the film the two of you ‘watched’. Hopper notices your door closed and this strikes a nerve for him. He starts his way to your room and opens the door. Once he did, he saw Argyle sitting at the edge of the bed with you braiding his hair. A cold breeze fills the room as the open window allows it through.
“Hey, Mr.Hopper dude.” Argyle says with a smile on his face. “Hey dad, how was the date?”
easy read thread below (please be aware that this is p much just smut hhhh) ⬇️
Resentful energy is a fickle, fickle thing.
Wei Wuxian has it controlled, or so he says, down to a tee, and Lan Wangji— all he can do is trust. To love unconditionally, the way he always has, and offer up everything he has to give. To take on the burden, however he can.
Sometimes, that means giving Wei Wuxian a place to rest, behind a glacial wall of yang, diligently written to protect him with his life. Lan Wangji has adapted to this routine well enough; learned to stifle a lifetime's worth of orthodoxy and order. He's learned that the wicked ways are not necessarily wicked in intent.
'Come back to Gusu with me,' Lan Wangji had said, a few weeks ago now. A few weeks in shared solitude that have flown by. 'Resentful energy will harm you.' And he'd had to compromise, as long as he could keep Wei Wuxian safe, away from the sharp blades of the land's greatest clans.
But Wei Wuxian has killed people, cultivators, in their thousands, in the heart of the darkness of his own making. And yet, here he is, tucked far away in hiding, rattled awake by the mercilessness of his darkest nightmares. Lan Wangji has needed to adjust to this, too, because standing by Wei Wuxian's side makes him an accomplice by proxy. And that much is fine. It is fine. But he is not immortal.
Neither is Wei Wuxian. He carries himself like a trailblazer, granted — staunch, upright, indignant. Only here, for their eyes only, does the fear begin to trickle through the cracks.
Sometimes, Wei Wuxian craves. He craves validation and closeness. He asks to be soothed; to be spoken to, just like old times. Lan Wangji will not revert back to old times; he won't arbitrate Wei Wuxian's choices.
He won't back away. Not again.
Sometimes, Wei Wuxian refuses to curl up come night time, alone and cold against the rocks. He'd refused Lan Wangji's offer to take the hard ground, because of course he had. He is good. So good. There, he'd always wake up wrapped up in Lan Wangji's robes, still smattered with blood, red on white. And he'd always come up with some excuse—something about how he must have gotten cold and grabbed the closest thing.
Lan Wangji was always the one tucking him in, trying to keep him warm from the cruel cold of the world.
Most nights these days, he winds up curled up in the blankets, atop the bale of hay Lan Wangji had bartered for in a nearby village with the few coins left to his name, under the disguise of a dark grey cloak and a red rope belt. Not at all subtle; knowingly rumoured as a 'disciple of the feared Yiling Laozu'. In bed under their shared blanket, Wei Wuxian always ends up trembling next to him, clutching tight and begging for the voices to stop. It is unwavering, unrelenting with each passing rise and fall of the moon. His eyes have long grown dark, his hair disorderly, and his blood red ribbon askew where it hangs against his back.
Lan Wangji's mind is a mere shell of what it once was, his heart taking precedence here. And his heart is sombre; his resolve, diminished.
Sometimes, Wei Wuxian shakes, red raw with an itch for something more; all that resentful energy, and nowhere to put it. Spiritual yang pointed directly into the meridians does wonders for soothing that itch, much like an aloe balm, but even Lan Wangji grows tired sometimes. He has enough spiritual energy for the both of them, but the price he pays for that is doubled. And the yin will always come flooding back. Such is the natural order of things.
That is how they had wound up toppling into bed together, a tangle of limbs and a desperate mess of reassuring kisses, that first time. Lan Wangji can put up a good fight, can school himself into something almost as unremitting as he once was, equally stubborn as he is devoted, but for this— he's weak for this. His devotion to Wei Wuxian is unbreakable, it might as well be written in stone.
"The righteous, perfect Hanguang Jun. Hanguang Jun, the most peerless man in all of these lands," Wei Wuxian says, courtesy dripping like sweet poison from his tongue. Somewhere beneath the darkness of his red-rimmed eyes is that same arrogance, that same integrity he'd thrived with when they were teens. "Lan Wangji, you do things to me. Terrible, amazing things. Do you even know? Do you know?"
Lan Wangji knows. He knows well. And he takes it, obliged and without complaint, because he feels it, too. He feels cruel for it, stealing like this, but resentful energy is a fickle, fickle thing, and Lan Wangji is not selfless. Not at all.
He's sprawled out, his robes drawn open and splayed out around his sides. The hay bale is scratchy against his back, and his thighs are trembling, muscles pulling taut, following the path of Wei Wuxian's deft fingers. He's hard, his cock straining on end against his stomach. There's a thick plume of black hanging in the air around them, there are whispers of the undead, telling Lan Wangji to take and take and take and take.
'Selfish', 'dishonourable', 'greedy Lan Wangji'.
Wei Wuxian is kneeling against the folded edge of Lan Wangji's outer robe, chaos against order. His eyes are wild, his face frantic. He claws at Lan Wangji like he can't possibly touch him enough — kisses him like he can't believe he's there. And yet.
"I," Lan Wangji breathes, cupping the back of Wei Wuxian's hand, pressing it to the hot curve of his pelvis. Wei Wuxian allows it. He always does. "I wish for you to show me. Wei Ying."
Somewhere along the way, they'd gotten hooked. Somewhere before that, Wei Wuxian had begun to look at him a certain way. He'd allowed Lan Wangji to kiss him back to sleep, to pick out the knots in his hair. He never retreated whenever Lan Wangji had allowed himself the audacity to lay bare like this.
"You're too good," says Wei Wuxian, right as he gropes over the thick line of Lan Wangji’s cock. His fingers are gentle, but purposeful. Ghosting, but diligent. Ever full of contradictions.
Lan Wangji doesn't think he's particularly very good. He knows what he's doing here, what he's allowing in Wei Wuxian's moment of need. But he makes a low sound in the back of his throat, thighs spread wide. When he catches himself in the reflection of Wei Wuxian's eyes, he looks devilish there.
"I can see it in your face, Lan Zhan. You don't see yourself the way I do. You gonna be good for me? You gonna let me do all these terrible things to you again?" He lowers his voice, free hand reaching up, a testing finger dipping beneath Lan Wangji's forehead ribbon. "You always let me. You must really fear me, hm?"
No, Lan Wangji wants to say. It's a test, and they both know it – they've endured too much together for this to mean nothing to either of them, surely. But instead, he holds Wei Wuxian's hand flush against his groin, and allows himself the opportunity to grind his hips, painstakingly slow against the palm of a cold hand.
Wei Wuxian has been edging him on and off for the better part of the afternoon, his itch for it utterly unbearable. It had begun careless and casual, right up until that black fog began to swarm. Lan Wangji, out of sheer habit, had voluntarily laid himself across the makeshift bed and had opened himself up, three fingers deep and completely devoid of shame, in Wei Wuxian's line of sight.
"I want you," he says instead. He says that a lot recently, because it quells his own urge to say something far less inconspicuous. Wei Wuxian allows his hand to be coaxed downwards, where the slick of remedial salve is still warm between his thighs, precisely where he's open and eager. "You know that. Wei Ying."
"You wanna come, hm? You wanna come that bad? You did all the hard work for me, you could've finished yourself off, you know. I couldn't have stopped you. I couldn't even stop my Hanguang Jun from following me into the dark."
"You first," Lan Wangji says stiffly, pausing their hands there. Wei Wuxian is hard beneath his inner robe—Lan Wangji can see the outline of his cock twitching helplessly through delicate silk, the smear of precome, dark against red. It's stark, but overshadowed by a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Wei Ying first. As many times as he needs."
Distantly, in the depth of this barren cave, he can feel the pang of turmoil of his own. The hush whispers of the undead reminding him that the two of them could raise hell together, like this. That they could lose control together, if they so wanted. That if he keeps this up, they both just might. It would be an honourable death, Lan Wangji pacifies himself: to die for the man he loves.
"See? Too good." Absent-mindedly, Wei Wuxian strokes the tips of his fingers over Lan Wangji's hole, allowing his forefinger and middle finger to slip inside, testing. Teasing. Lan Wangji's eyes flutter shut. "What would your clan think, Lan Zhan. That I've ruined you, too? You know I have a hard time resisting you. You know that, don't you?"
"Mn," Lan Zhan says, because he does know. He knows. He knows that the moment he cracks, Wei Wuxian will be ruthless, wound-up and unable to stop. He'll break it up with soft kisses, warm enough to shatter the coldest hearts, and Lan Zhan will, in fact, be left truly ruined.
He'll also find himself host to any stray remnants of that resentful energy. Whatever Wei Wuxian gives. It'll weave itself around his qi, rattling him to his core, and the weight on Wei Wuxian's shoulder will be - unbeknownst to him - a little easier to bear for a while.
"And if you ever decide to leave me," he continues, slipping his hand into his inner robe and allowing it to part free. Lan Wangji blinks up at the sound of fabric pooling upon the ground, and those nefarious whispers grow loud again. He's wanted this for so long. He has it now - once in a blue moon. He knows the taste of Wei Wuxian's mouth, his cock— the way it curves, and the way it fits just right. "At least I can exist, knowing I've seen you like this. I can be happy, knowing that the crooked Yiling Laozu was good enough to have had Hanguang Jun for at least a little while. That in spite of your few words, I've heard you, like— this."
Before Lan Wangji has the opportunity to get a word in edgeways, to foolishly give away the deepest corners of his heart, Wei Wuxian fucks into him in one swift thrust. Lan Wangji growls, the air stolen from his lungs.
It doesn't take much to work up into a rhythm, brutal as it is. They know each other well enough by now. It goes like this: Lan Wangji knocking his head back, gritting his teeth through the pleasure, thrumming with the pain. He can ignore the resentful energy a little bit better like this, even while Wei Wuxian is desperately grinding it back into him.
Lan Wangji's core is strong enough to take it. It will have to be.
"Gods, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian babbles—he always does. And Lan Wangji hangs onto his every word. "You feel so fucking good. Fuck. You're good for me, hm? Just for me?"
Lan Wangji will always lose himself to it, giving in to sensation. The dark energy has him by the throat, but Wei Wuxian looks at him with such wonder, light behind those tired eyes. "Yes—just. Ah, just for Wei Ying."
"Tell me," Wei Wuxian says, punctuating it with a particularly hard thrust that jostles him. It scatters the hay underneath them, the weight of them sinking into it. The ground is cold beneath, but Lan Wangji is coated in a warm sheen of sweat, and if he's scraped or grazed— well, he will not notice. "Tell me, who you are, who I am."
Lan Wangji recognises this, too. He's come to expect it — the unrestrained, unrelenting descent into all that dark energy. It's routine by now, and who is Lan Wangji if he isn't living to please and serve? "I am— your Hanguang Jun," he says, throwing a leg around Wei Wuxian's waist. He's practically delirious with it. "I belong only to you, Yiling Laozu."
"Fuck, Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, you do. Turn, turn over— Actually, no wait, I want to look at you."
Lan Wangji is delirious with this too. It's simple for them to fall in and out of these meticulously crafted characters they've accepted for themselves. Every time, however, the Wei Wuxian he's always known will sneak back in, and Lan Wangji has to ignore the twinge of guilt that he's taking advantage of his vulnerability here.
So he flips them, strong like steel, if a little shaky, and kisses Wei Wuxian down to the floor, deep and feverish. These stolen kisses each have little messages. This one means 'I am ever devoted to you'. Maybe also 'I will never leave your side', if he's feeling bold enough. Lan Wangji's hand acts as a cushion between Wei Wuxian's head and the ground, his hips working into a shameless grind, a frantic back and forth.
"Wei Ying." He bites, a secret swell of pride for leaving behind his mark - a claim in the form of lips bitten red. "Yiling Laozu, use me."
This is the part where Wei Wuxian will grasp onto his hips, and have his merry way, but he's staring up at Lan Wangji, something fierce. His gaze is scattered, skirting over the lines of Lan Wangji's body, the way his cock bounces so brazenly between them, untouched and throbbing with desire.
Lan Wangji won't come untouched. Not unless Wei Wuxian does first.
"Yes," Wei Wuxian's voice is low, dark. Lan Wangji knows when he's inching closer. He knows that face so well now, after all these years. He knows when he's happy, when he's frantic. And now, he can add pleasure to that list. "Yes, Hanguang Jun. I won't—I won't let you go," he says, between sharp inhales. "I'll—I'll keep you here. Everyone else— they can say that I've got - fuck - a pretty little plaything."
Well, that one goes straight to Lan Wangji's cock. His hips falter, stuttering on a harsh thrust up. Wei Wuxian knows—he always knows how to do him well.
"Little do they know," he continues, mouth pressed against Lan Wangji's shoulder. His breath is hot, his body wracked over with uncontrollable trembles. "Little do they know, you ask for it. My pretty little plaything likes this too—a-ah, Lan Zhan, I'm— fuck. I'm gonna—"
"Fill me." Lan Wangji is slack, and the Yiling Laozu takes him; grabs at his hips, his feet planted firmly against the ground, and fucks him. "Wei Ying, do it—"
When Wei Wuxian comes, Lan Wangji feels everything. Everything, all at once, like a thunderclap echoing in the silent sky. And Lan Wangji sinks his weight into it, working them through it until Wei Wuxian is writhing and breathless.
He does not move after, sated and filled to the brim, his hips bleeding red with the scratches.
And when Wei Wuxian sinks back, slack against the ground, writhing with it— when Lan Wangji sways forward to kiss him, there's nothing but sheer care there. Lan Wangji kisses, and kisses, in spite of the throbbing ache between his thighs, his hips moving idly - disjointed back and forths. He can feel all that resentful energy swirling around inside him, and he takes it all without complaint.
His eyes must darken with it, because Wei Wuxian is staring at him, scrutinising him closely, as though he's searching for something.
If he notices anything this time, he isn't given the opportunity to voice it. He's always insatiable like this, Lan Wangji knows it well enough. And so he moves, batting Wei Wuxian's hand away where it's crawling up towards his neglected cock.
"No," he says, and he doesn't miss the wild fervour in Wei Wuxian's face. "As many times as Wei Ying needs. However he needs it."
"Aiyo, Lan Zhan." There are hands clutching at Lan Wangji's waist, grounding him from the swell of devious voices threatening to break him down. Lan Wangji vaguely wonders if Wei Wuxian knows what he's doing here, the scope of the consequences. "You can't say things like that. I'm greedy enough already."
"Be greedy."
It all becomes a messily orchestrated scramble. Lan Wangji moves, unfortunately, just to rearrange himself. His knees pressed flush against unforgiving rock, his hands firmly rooted in place; his spine curved and his ass presented shamelessly.
Wei Wuxian is impervious to do anything but take.
And take, he does.
The second time is all heat, fiery passion. Filthy, in the way the slick of passion-fueled spend is fucked right back into him. Wei Wuxian's cock fills out again without much effort on his part, and Lan Wangji greedily takes the brunt of it. That thick plume of black is orbiting his hands where they're planted firmly against the ground, tearing away the inner resolve Lan Wangji has meticulously built for himself over the years. Years of meditation, fruitless, broken down by fleeting moments like these.
"Do not treat me like glass," he hisses, when he feels Wei Wuxian's hips falter. "I will not break."
"You won't break," Wei Wuxian repeats, one hand holding on to Lan Wangji's hip, the other curled into his hair, their parted lips lingering, phantom touches in midair. "Lan er gege, who knew, hm? Fuck—you feel so good. Who knew you'd be like this."
I am utterly devoted to you, Lan Wangji could say, but doesn't. Instead, he's a vessel for all of those resentful whispers, muffled out by the obscene sound of heavy breathing and skin against skin. "You know." He says instead, his abdomen pulled taut in effort to keep himself upright. "You know this. Only you will know."
"Don't worry." Wei Wuxian bites down on Lan Wangji’s bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth, and Lan Wangji nearly collapses right there. "I— I'm not sharing this. Not while I have it."
Lan Wangji, despite himself, meets Wei Wuxian's thrusts. He must look shameless right now, spread open, his knees scuffed and bruising. He's selfish, he realises. He voices it, his self-control a guqin string pulled too taut, snapping easily with a low ping. "Yours," he grits. "Yours. Steal me. Use me. Wei Ying."
"Yeah," Wei Wuxian agrees, voice more breath than sound. He leans down and sinks his teeth into Lan Wangji's shoulder, piercing skin, muffling his grunts of effort. "Yeah, mine."
When Wei Wuxian comes again, it's with a half-stifled shout, red light shooting into the tunnel of the cave before fading dark. His body is wracked over with uncontrollable shakes, and Lan Wangji is deaf to anything but the two of them, the resentful spirits acting as witness.
You'd kill anyone for him, wouldn't you? You'd murder them in cold blood. You are powerful, you could wipe out entire sects.
Lan Wangji breathes out, shuddering with it. Wei Wuxian is whimpering, mouthing wetly against Lan Wangji's shoulder, their bodies flush, every inch attached.
"Please," he says. He doesn't even know what he's pleading for, really. His body is spent, his mind fogged over. "Wei Ying, please."
"I've got you," Wei Wuxian soothes, presses it into the crook of Lan Wangji’s neck. Lan Wangji twists to meet his lips, messy and not at all lacking in saliva, and even that is a plea. "I've got you, my dearest."
The way Wei Wuxian handles him is too careful — too, too kind. He treats him as though Lan Wangji is something precious, and there's something unspoken there. He lowers Lan Wangji down, back against the ground, against the smatterings of hay. Lan Wangji is vaguely aware that they're sleeping on the ground tonight; distantly reminds himself that he will need to return to the village tomorrow. But that will be tomorrow's problem.
Wei Wuxian manoeuvres Lan Wangji's legs, kisses a stripe along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. He rests his cheek there, then, gaze full of wonder as he curls his fingers around the girth of Lan Wangji's cock.
"Next time," he says, lazily stroking. Lan Wangji's balls are pulled taut, and he's so, so sensitive. Wei Wuxian smiles, and this time, his eyes scrunch up into delighted little crescents with it. "I want you to do me, like I do you. You're such a mess, Lan Zhan. You're so beautiful. I want to know what it feels like."
All Lan Wangji can do, really, is groan in response. His autonomy - his well trained control over his body - is completely shattered. He twitches, and reaches out, fingers slipping into Wei Wuxian's free hand, his heart thumping away frantically in his chest.
He would—he would kill anybody for him. He would do it all. Wei Wuxian could ask him to tear out his heart and present it to him on a golden platter; he could ask Lan Wangji to set the world ablaze, to give them a space to tangle up together, perched upon a bloody throne. He would.
The rise before the fall is beautiful. It doesn't take much for him, not with those fingers playing him like an instrument, drawing music from him, before Lan Wangji is swearing out into the open, desensitised to the swirls of black engulfing the air around them. He falls with a husky gasp, Wei Ying's name hanging heavy in the air, thick ropes of come spread across his stomach, coating Wei Wuxian's hand.
"Fuck," says Wei Wuxian, kissing the jut of Lan Wangji's hipbone, his ribs, the divet of his chest. "I can't get over it, you like this. You always gave me the cold shoulder, and now you're hiding me away, turning yourself into something that could actually be mine if—." The unspoken 'if I was truly good enough' is deafening. He's said it before. The war had left him a wanted man, told of his crimes from every which direction. So undoubtedly, he'll say it again.
Lan Wangji is buzzing. He'll tell him someday. Correct him. Tell him about everything, perhaps, if his resolve should crumble further. Maybe he will set the world on fire for him. He wonders absently if that would be enough.
"Lan Zhan." Wei Wuxian is crawling upwards now, ready to collapse sloppily across Lan Wangji's chest. They never did the whole cuddling after sex thing until just recently. Whether it was too real for them, too much back then, the two of them seem to be toeing a dangerous line now; stolen glances that last too long, and mouths finding one another in the night.
His eyes seem to find something in Lan Wangji, seem to recognise something there, and he manages to squeeze in a soft kiss before his body gives out. "You're good, you are so good. I— thank you. Are you okay? Want me to talk you through the comedown?"
And Lan Wangji can't really do much else other than huff out a soft laugh, because he is okay. They talk about normal things, fingers idly explorative, and he is good. Utterly devoted to the chaos that has made its bed, nestling itself neatly beside the order in him.
My new fic is up on AO3: What Goes into a Dreamcatcher.
Word count: 5300.
Tags
Established relationship, Shibari, Merman Dream of the Endless, Fluff and smut, Porn without a plot, Dream has a vulva, Top Hob, Light Dom/sub, Banter, Humour, Feelings
Rating:
Explicit
Summary:
Shibari shenanigans in the Dreaming - Hob has a bit of fun with Dream and his bendy mermaid tail.
***
"I am deeply touched by your enthusiasm," Hob replies, mocking him. But only a bit. Mostly, he's being earnest. He’s felt Dream’s enthusiasm in places he hadn’t even known he possessed, and he wouldn’t change it for anything.
Dropping to his knee before him so that they see eye to eye, Hob says, "Give me your colour."
"Green."
"Fine, then I'll make you truly endless."
"I am Endless, Hob," Dream replies, a little exasperated.
"Just wait and see."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
A quick search on the app and he finds them a place. It's a lot of money for just a few hours, he has to admit, but there isn't a price he won't pay to have that time with her. A moment of true bliss destined to live forever in his heart.
or,
Ilsa and Ethan have their first time in Venice. Literally.
