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tunastime · 1 month

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do androids dream of electric sheep?

I am nothing if not a vessel for self-indulgent docsuma, especially @shepscapades's dbhc self-indulgent docsuma. sometimes you fall asleep in the lab, and sometimes your friend feels compelled to make sure you're okay <3

(3964 words)

Doc sometimes slips into daydream.

It’s not unlike him. He’d been doing it for some time now, some fix halfway between awake and Sleep Mode. Not quite his mind palace, but still wedged into predictive processes, still trying to work to replay memories. In quiet moments, more often than not, he finds that it’s easier to slip away, to tuck himself into his work, drafting, or building, or walking thoughtful circles and let the mechanical parts of his mind slip away into calculation.

In those same dreams, he tries to calculate the probability of events with what he has, blocking out the movements of who he knows best, who he may be able to pinpoint. He works in quiet as his mind runs in the background, wondering how conversations may go, how actions could be perceived. He maps what might happen if someone got hurt, or if someone needed help, or if someone fell asleep in the lab. Someone. Just anyone. He tells himself it could be anyone, but he would be lying if he didn’t know who.

It was hard, right—it felt wrong if he didn’t. Something he was designed to do, put to waste because it felt silly to imagine waking his lab partner, his friend, making sure he was alright, helping him. Was it wrong to want to be helpful? Was it wrong to want anything? It feels—it’s silly. Want was such a human word. He’s not sure he can really want at all. The paper in front of him is getting fuzzy around the edges, though, as he forces himself back into his true waking mode, and focuses on the task in front of him, now a line of text in his eyesight.

Doc leans hard on his hand, cupped around the side of his jaw as he studies the plans in front of him. He’s long since set them to memory, easily recalled with the summon of command, but he works out the fine details of the draft in front of him, still unsatisfied with his new creation. He works quietly, mentally mapping the lists of supplies he might need, the time it may take. If he were to concentrate the slightest bit more on the display in the corner of his vision, he might note how late it had gotten. Without any windows down here, the night sky can’t leak in, which means Doc doesn’t know it’s gotten dark until Xisuma starts to yawn or he manages to peek outside.

He sets his pad down, eyes skimming the surface. Right, and where was X, anyway? The space, ever growing, up, down, sideways, that he used as his lab had gone still and quiet some time ago. Enough for Doc to take note of. Enough to be a little odd, he would assume, even for him, and the behaviors he knows well from Xisuma. Xisuma didn’t just wander off without a word—he was much too narrative for that. Doc sits up, hand falling to the table.

“X?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. The room stays quiet, aside from the hum of recirculating air and electronics. Doc taps his hand against the table—it was some sort of tic he’d picked up from Ren, a sign of his impatience. He couldn’t shake the habit of mimicking it while he was thinking.

Okay, right. Last time he saw X. He gathers up the recall of the path Xisuma would’ve taken from his side, checking over his work at Doc’s request, and around the lab itself, looping back to a series of benches to work on. Leaning from his spot, he tries to pinpoint the peek of green helmet or shoulder piece. He finds neither in the direct line of sight, though, and slowly, bracing his prosthetic arm on the table, Doc stands.

It’s a gentle quiet that fills the room, nice and easy and soft to step through as Doc makes his way around the space. Despite having another work bench quite close, Xisuma had a habit of leaving his stuff about, flitting between projects as he saw fit. It was interesting, sometimes, to watch him move around the room—not that Doc had done any of that. He seemed to bounce from point to point, sometimes staying still for hours, unmoving, lost in work. It was in those hours that Doc found himself watching, just for a moment, studying the shallow curve of his nose and the way his hair fell into his face from behind his helmet.

His office is here, too. Though it’s no different than any other working space in terms of equipment, the space itself is fully outfitted, lined with tools and a large work table, his computer, a desk with a chair. Through the glass, he can see the shape of Xisuma at his desk, likely too caught up in whatever he had been working on to notice Doc’s concern. Doc pauses as he slides open the door, standing in the doorway, announcing himself to the cluttered room.

“Xisuma,” Doc starts. “I know it’s late, if you want to head home, I’m sure I can finish…”

Xisuma is slumped over on his desk as Doc enters. There’s a brief moment, no more than a second, where Doc’s mind spins a scenario hard and fast, the crumpled shape of Xisuma over his desk. But he can see the slow rise and fall of his shoulders. He registers the slow, steady heartbeat in Xisuma’s chest, and his shoulders sag with relief. He stands in the doorway for a moment. Xisuma looks small, head pillowed on his arms. He’s still running a series of code on the console next to him, which illuminates the back of his head in pale lines of data. His hair falls half loose across his shoulder, like he’d forgotten to finish tying it away from his face, and the slow, deep breaths make it seem like he’d been sleeping here a lot longer than Doc realized. He’s without his helmet, too, which sits beside him on the desk, discarded.

Long enough to get a sore neck and complain about his upper back hurting. Long enough to worry that he might not be getting enough oxygen. Doc sets his shoulders. There’s something in his chest that feels like it skips—regulator, pump, or otherwise. They work in tandem to produce whatever fluttery feeling invades the space where his ribs should be. He presses the heel of his synthetic hand against the depression of his chest, rolling his wrist. The feeling fades for a moment, shuddering through his wrists like it might rest there. He was never going to get used to it, was he?

He steps into the lab proper, sticking his hands into his pockets. He picks his way around the room, trying to walk quietly around it. Xisuma stays asleep, shoulders rising and falling in that even tempo. Doc crouches beside him—Xisuma is properly slumped, back curved forward as he rests. What little Doc can see of his face is soft with sleep, eyelids fluttering just so. When X doesn’t move, he rests his palm over the curve of his shoulder, gentle and slow. He tries not to focus on the fact that so much of his face is exposed to him, aside from just his eyes and the bridge of his nose. He’s seen him before, briefly, every so often, but it was so different watching him now, calm and comfortable. Doc forces himself to focus.

“Xisuma,” he says, voice dipping low and quiet. He runs his hand over the part of his shoulderblade he can reach. He pats the high of his back. “Xisuma, hey…”

X takes a long breath in, making a squeaky sort of sound high in his chest. Doc feels him hum out from under his hand.

“Doc,” he says, voice rumbling in his chest. It was a tired sort of rumble, just on the edge of being rough with sleep, just enough to bring that feeling back to Doc’s internal components, like thirium was sludging too quick too warm through him. He huffs a little breath, a sound caught in his throat.

“You fell asleep at your desk, X,” Doc says, not able to weasel the amusement out of his voice. He runs his hand over his back again, just to see Xisuma’s eyes open tiredly, and shut again. It was so unlike the version of him that he knew in his mind, seeing him savor the brief contact, even from Doc. Especially from Doc. Xisuma was always the one reaching out for him, repairing or correcting or studying. All with purpose. There was no lingering touch between them. And though this had its purpose too, Doc lingered, feeling Xisuma breathe under his hand.

“Sorry,” X mumbles, finally moving to lift his head, to open his eyes. Doc’s hand slides away as X sits up, over his back and back to Doc’s side. Xisuma blinks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his hands. A frown comes between his eyes as he tries to focus the world around him a little clearer. Like it were mimicking the score across his cheek and nose, there’s a fine indent pressed into his cheek. Doc smiles at him, scrunching his nose in a way he’s seen X do a hundred times.

Xisuma jolts, half reaching for the helmet beside him. If Doc were to really look, he might see the pink-red flush over his cheeks and ears.

“Sorry—I didn’t…”

There he lingers, halfway to reaching. Doc looks away from him, purposefully averting his eyes.

“I don’t mind,” he says. “You have to be comfortable too.”

Xisuma hums, smiling a little, hanging his head as he leaves his hand on the table.

“Hah,” he says, ears still pink. “Right. Sorry, sorry, Doc. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I didn’t know where you had gone off to, so I figured I would come make sure you were okay.”

X nods. Doc watches him twist around, hearing the faint give and pop as his spine adjusts to sitting upright.

“‘M alright,” he says. Then he laughs a bit—the sound is airy and half in his chest, enough to shake his shoulders but more of a wheeze than anything else. Everything fit so well to the timbre of Xisuma’s voice, it seemed, be it the way he moved about, or the way he laughed, or the way his shoulder sloped or face was shaped. Not that Doc had been looking. Regardless, Xisuma sighs, and smiles back at him.

“Just embarrassed is all,” he manages. “Thanks, Doc. I appreciate you.”

X leans back in his chair. Doc watches him resettle and hum to himself as he gets comfortable against the plush backing. Doc makes a clipped sound, reaches out and moves away again, halfway between shaking him awake and letting him sleep.

“X,” he says. “Would it not be more comfortable if you were sleeping in your spare room?”

Xisuma frowns.

“Would be,” he says, eyes still closed, mumbling. “It just gets awfully cold in there. ‘N if I’m perfectly comfortable in here, why not stay tha’way?”

It’s almost amusing, the trickle of stubbornness that leaks into the tired slur of Xisuma’s voice. It’s almost endearing. He watches X fold his arms over his chest, armor only partly discarded, watches his face wrinkle as he notices and tries to rearrange himself. Doc smiles, something that he simply can’t help—it feels so right, considering how ridiculous this is. He considers his options and weighs the success rates, the action taking a fraction of a second in time, though the scene plays out in his head in full.

“Because you’ll hurt your back,” Doc says plainly. X frowns, clearly mulling it over. There—that’s one that Doc knows, that face, where X slips into thought and worries the inside of his cheek and works his jaw. Doc raises his eyebrows, as if to question him without saying anything, without Xisuma even looking at him.

“Mhh,” Xisuma huffs. He pulls his knees up. Somehow, he manages to fit himself into his desk chair, curling his tall body over his knees and leaning sideways into the back. Doc hums, makes the approximation of the sound he knows.

“Xisuma,” he says. “I’m not going to let you sleep in that chair, you know. You are being stubborn.”

“M‘kay, okay…” Xisuma wheezes, finally uncurling himself.

It takes him a second. Watching Xisuma stretch and blink awake is like watching him come to life. He stretches up and around, face pulling as he likely unsuccessfully shakes the tension from the line of his spine. As he twists, he freezes, face scrunching all at once as he winces, hand shooting up to cup his neck.

“Ow. Jeez.”

He can see it tight in his shoulders and neck, even as X deflates, looking up at him blearily, still slightly slumped in his chair. His eyes shut again.

“Xisuma…” Doc says, mouth twisting.

X sighs.

“‘M fine, Doc,” he manages to murmur out. “Just’a sore neck. Mm’exhausted.”

“Sounds like you need a real bed, mm?” Doc replies, setting his hands on his hips. Xisuma peeks at him, one eye opening, and shutting again.

He sees the fraction of a smile lift the corners of X’s mouth.

“Sure, sure…”

Doc looks over Xisuma’s face. With his eyes shut, face softening, hair tumbling over one shoulder, he looks comfortable. It’s as if someone took a brush to his features and smoothed out any hard edge—either that, or the static has leaked back into Doc’s vision. He feels a chug in his chest and his joints as he locks up.

X hasn’t moved. Doc reaches out, tapping his knee. Xisuma huffs, clearly startled from the half-sleep he’d drifted back into.

“Too tired t’stand,” he manages. Doc makes a questioning noise.

“I think you can make it,”

There’s a beat of silence. Xisuma cracks an eye open again, shuts it, furrowing his eyebrows. Doc watches him curiously, mind running through the list of possible scenarios. He’s made it part way when Xisuma says:

“‘M using you t’stand, then.”

And he makes a little, amused heh, before he says:

“That’s fine.”

There’s something he means to say alongside that, but as soon as X’s very warm, very human hand makes contact with the fabric of his lab coat and the cool synthetic of his arm, he loses focus. He should be used to this—the amount of times X has performed his routine maintenance, sweeping his hands over the replaced shoulder joint to check for seams, or made sure the regulator functioned, or backed up personal data, fingers skimming the shallow port at the back of his neck. He should be, but that contact alone sends a prickling-warm jolt up his arm. It feels foreign to let the touch linger. But Xisuma lingers regardless, hand flat against the space where Doc’s left ribs should be. He’s gone from holding, to simply sitting there, arm bent at the elbow, held weakly up.

“Mrghh…” he complains. Doc taps his elbow, trying to jolt him back awake.

“C’mon, X, you can get up.”

X shakes his head slowly, his hand finding the inner curve of his prosthetic arm, squeezing just once, like he’s remembering it’s there. Then, X leans into him, all at once, slumping into his chest. Doc lets out a wouf in surprise. He holds still, aside from the simulated breath in his chest. After a moment, Xisuma makes a small, tired sound, almost like a laugh.

“Houfh,” he mumbles. “I, mm, don’t…don’t think ‘m gonna make it, Doc.”

“Mhm…” Doc chides.

Xisuma laughs again, lying still for a moment, voice still heavy with sleep. There’s a moment where he shifts, and there’s a small, painful noise that he makes.

“Ow, mrrgh—ow, okay—” he gripes. Doc’s synthetic hand finds the curve of his shoulder, patting gently.

“Oh, X—just…stay still, mhm?”

“Mm,” Xisuma says tiredly, “Alright.”

As much as he wants to move him, X is still wearing that damn armor.

Doc lets him lean into his chest as he tries to weasel off the bits of armor left over. It’s a struggle, keeping X comfortable and trying not to pull him around awkwardly, while trying to remove his chestplate with one hand. Once the armor pulls away, he resettles him, slowly scoops one hand under his legs. Something about this, about the way Xisuma leaned heavy into him, felt so painfully human he feels it curl up between the wires connecting his regulator to his side fans.

“Ready?” he says, mostly to the top of Xisuma’s head.

“Mmh…” X murmurs.

He hefts him into his arms, settling him against his chest. When Xisuma sighs, it’s profound and heavy and he tucks his face into Doc’s coat. Doc can feel the remnant of heartbeat from where his arm rests behind his back, thudding away behind his ribs. His breathing stays even, though shallow. One of Xisuma’s hands clasps over the back of his neck, keeping him still.

It’s a careful walk to Xisuma’s spare room. Doc is careful not to bump anything, measuring the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he walks. He drifts back to sleep, though, through the lab, through Doc shutting the lights off. He’ll have to come back through to power down their various computers, but for now, the dull white-blue glow illuminates the room. He carries him into the halls and through and to his room. It’s smaller than the room in his base by a sizable margin—just enough for the essentials. X stirs as Doc pauses to flip on the lamp, the light warm and yellow briefly illuminating the room. This can’t be a daydream, now, with the way X sighs and wriggles himself free as Doc pulls back the quilts and lets him down. He sits down with him, and the warm shape that Xisuma makes curls toward him, just a fraction, as he pulls the blankets over him.

Part of Doc knows that Xisuma won’t remember him carrying him to bed, or making sure he was warm, or keeping the light on so he wasn’t disoriented when he woke. Xisuma sighs, sinking into the pillows, expression relaxed and content. Doc hums.

“That’s better, yeah?” Doc says. He reaches out, instinct, want, desire, something, hammering away in his chest, as he brushes hair from X’s face, tucking it behind his ear. He brushes through the hair close to the base of his neck, across his cheek with his synthetic thumb. His dark hair is fine and soft and it must be a daydream—or it isn’t and he was right, because there have been moments like this in his head. Wondering if Xisuma would let himself succumb to soft comforts. He’s spent his own share of time lying next to him, ignoring the way Xisuma curls up next to him, pretending he himself didn’t move closer when Xisuma lies still. It was this dance that Doc didn’t understand, that he wasn’t sure if he was overthinking. Or overstepping. But Xisuma shifts, pressing his cheek to Doc’s synthetic palm, and Doc suppresses a shudder. It sparks something that could’ve been painful right up his arm and through his chest, bright and warm and staticky.

Doc hums, smiling to himself. Something like a dull thrum knocks in that space of his pump, pushing itself a little further, a little harder. It was sweet. X trusts him, not only to see him without his armor, but to help him to bed, to help him sleep. But Doc lifts his hand away, feeling that ache, the nervous shudder through his system.

X makes a sound, then, something small, eyes fluttering as Doc pulls away. Doc pauses.

“Mhh,” X manages. Doc swallows—he shouldn’t have to. That’s not something he should have to do, or be able to do, but the action just feels appropriate. It goes right along with sighing and laughing, and as he does it, Xisuma says:

“Thanks,” in a small, soft voice, and, muffled, and slightly slurred with sleep: “Didn’t have’ta stop.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, Xisuma,” Doc says. He can feel his temperature tick up several notches, no doubt a blue flush coming to the high of his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. He laughs, just a bit. “Did I wake you up?”

X sighs, stretching as he does.

“No,” he manages. “No, y’didn’t…”

“Oh,” Doc says. “Were you awake this whole time?”

Xisuma nods slowly. Ah. Ah. Doc dismisses a temperature notification.

“A little.”

“Mm,” Doc hums. “Silly Xisuma.”

Xisuma laughs. The sound is high and a little fuzzy and a bit caught in his throat. His bright eyes blink up at him and shut again as a smile settles on his face.

“Doc?” he asks.

“Mhm?”

Xisuma yawns, smothering it with the back of his hand, just barely. He tucks that hand close to his chest, curling up further still under his thick comforter.

“Could you…could’you do tha’again? The…” Xisuma lifts his hand, miming a brushing motion as he does. Another temperature warning, higher than the last, blips into Doc’s field of vision. It’s immediately dismissed, but he pulls in a breath, quiet, trying to turn it into a soft laugh.

“I can do that,” Doc says gently. Gingerly, he brushes his fingers through X’s hair, sliding back against his head. He combs through, lifting his hand to go back to his forehead, back to cradle his skull. X’s eyes fall closed again.

Doc can tell the moment that Xisuma truly slips into sleep. He lingers in his space, tracing out the base of his skull with his thumb, taking in the sensation of warmth and contact and stimulation, fingers flickering white up to his wrist. He wishes biting down on his tongue would do anything. He wishes that the hollow of his chest didn’t hold a weight that no diagnostic could fix. He felt too awkward and stilted and not nearly gentle enough. But as Xisuma stays asleep, he draws his hand away. He mumbles his good nights as he stands slowly, shutting out the light and wandering from the room.

He makes his way back into the lab. He replays the memory of Xisuma’s small smile, the fine line of his scar as he’d pressed his face into the pillow, the way he’d relaxed against Doc’s touch. He replays the memory, again, and again. It has to be a daydream. Has to be. There’s no other logical explanation to all of that.

Maybe that would explain the ache in his chest, far too human to be his own.

Doc goes back to work. He sits down at the lab table, spreading his arms as he braces against the white tabletop. He furrows his eyebrows. Something doesn’t feel right, too warm or out of place. He feels gross. Not gross bad, maybe, gross different? Broken? Not broken, maybe. Weird. Wrong. Out of place. It doesn’t make any sense. Or it has, and he’s refusing the obvious answer. Xisuma didn’t ask for any reason. Xisuma asked because he was tired, and tired people do silly things, and silly people are a handful, and Xisuma is a handful—a lovely one. Doc shuts his eyes. His chest hurts. It’s an awful hurt, actually, less painful than it is just weird. He thinks for a moment he might be better off if he left, maybe the weight of whatever lingered in his memory would be better off if he were to take a break from standing in the same spaces.

He sends Xisuma a message. From his office, he hears his com ping.

Docm77 whispered to you… Xisuma I’m stepping out, sleep well :-)

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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

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Rules: Post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPS.

Tagged by @ivymarquis (thank you 🩷💋!)

Hostage rescue (König meets a woman during a mission, yandere, dark themes, oneshot)

DOG (Stalker!König x reader, dark fic, multiple chapters)

Ghost goes to therapy (Ghost x reader, what the title says, multiple chapters)

Coming Home to You (Your attempt to escape König fails miserably – but did you even want to succeed...? Yandere, not safe or sane, oneshot)

Interrogation (Colonel König is "tortured" by a f!enemy!reader, pure smut with tragic ending, multiple chapters)

Ghost x brat (Ghost tames a brat. Rivals to lovers, multiple chapters)

Gromsko (Gromsko x medic!reader, silly romance, oneshot)

Anyone feel free to do this if you want 💕

#tbh most of these are abandoned and gathering dust #but yeah #lots of dark matter there in the docs!

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txdeathmatch · 2 months

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heres how i personally can win

the coffin path, katherine clements / aew full gear '23, scott lesh / bed of dolls by sugarcoma / in the kliq podcast / dynamite, 2. 07. 24. / to the desert, benjamin alire sáenz / crush, richard siken / aew full gear '23 / speeches for dr frankenstein, margaret atwood / aew revolution '24, jj williams / don't let them see me like this, jasmine gibson / aew full gear '23, scott lesh / frankenstein, mary shelley / aew revolution '24 / waco, texas by ethel cain

#hangman #swerve strickland #strickpage #aew #blood #web weaving #nev tries web weaving*#cringe ass nae nae baby #this started as motivation to write but. google docs is collecting dust

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wreckedandpolemic · 4 months

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30, 35 and 54 w matty plss 🫶🤭

stress relief, part ii - matty healy

(mdni) so many moons ago i wrote this for matty and i did indeed promise a follow-up... better late than never?

warnings: 18+, oral (f and m receiving, unprotected sex, fingering, cumplay, literally filth from the jump im so sorry

“Game on,” Matty says with an audible grin, gripping your thighs and licking eagerly at your cunt. You swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock, the salty taste of him filling your mouth as the pressure of his tongue at your clit spirals through you. Pulling off, you spit on his length, wrapping your fingers around him and building up a slow rhythm that has his hips jumping into your hand. The cry he lets out is muffled between your thighs, his sure tongue faltering as his cock twitches.

You press a delicate kiss to his drooling tip, taking him into your mouth again as he whimpers into your cunt. Your head bobs, teasing him, and he threads a hand into your hair, the sting in your scalp a warning. A muffled moan falls from your lips, Matty devouring your cunt as you drip into his eager mouth.

Pressure builds in your belly, your cunt clenching around his tongue as his hips jolt, fucking into your mouth. Matty’s close, you can feel from the frenzied pace he sets; you swallow a gag as his cock bumps at the back of your throat. Blunt nails dig into your thighs, a confident tongue lapping at your clit and sending sparks shooting through your body. You’re a mess on top of him, whining desperately around his cock as ecstasy spirals through your blood.

Hollowing your cheeks, you deepthroat him, letting him fuck your mouth and savouring the way he moans between your legs. Matty grazes his teeth across your clit, grinning into your cunt at your responding scream, stifled around his cock. Heat races up your spine as you grind against his mouth. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he murmurs against you, sucking your swollen bundle of nerves and wiping your mind clean, pleasure cascading over you.

“Come on,” you murmur, pulling off him and matching the pace with your hand. “You’re so close. Don’t you wanna cum in my mouth, all over my face, make a fucking mess of me?” you tease, running your fist along his length. “Cum for me, darling,” you whisper, licking softly at the head of his cock.

“Oh, fuck!” Matty cries, bucking into your hand, coming over your lips and chin. His stuttering moans reverberate through your cunt, sending bliss swirling in your chest.

Fingers dig into your thighs hard enough to bruise as you rock your dripping cunt against his face. “You lose,” you grin, licking his cum off your lips. “Make me come while I decide what I win.” You sit back up, knees bracketing his head as you grind against his face. His tongue swirls over your clit, intense pleasure rolling over you. “Matty, fuck,” you breathe, clenching around his tongue. “I’m so close.” Your cunt flutters against his mouth, and he brings his fingers up to toy with your clit. Your hips roll, heat licking deliciously under your skin. One more quick circle over your clit and you’re coming undone on top of him, waves of bliss cascading over you. Molten euphoria courses through you, sticky and hot, gushing over Matty’s lips and chin as your cunt pulses desperately. Matty tongue-fucks you through, pleasure and pain twining around each other intensely as your body wracks with sensation.

Eventually, though, you tap out, climbing off him with a satisfied moan. “You’re too good at that,” you half complain, stretching out your sore muscles.

Matty throws you a sleazy grin, making a deliberate show of licking you off his lips. “I try. Wait, you’ve got a bit of…” He wipes a thumb across your chin, collecting the cum pooling there. Disbelieving, you watch as he closes his lips around his thumb and swallows deliberately, a bolt of arousal striking at your core.

“Christ alive,” you mutter, grabbing his jaw and pulling him in for a messy kiss, the taste of both of you lingering on his tongue as he sweeps across your mouth.

“Decided what you win yet, love?” he murmurs as he pulls away, heat fizzing under your skin where he runs a hand along your body.

You tilt your head, considering, and grin, climbing off him to sit at the end of the bed. “So… you touch yourself to the thought of me?” He nods, almost nervously. “I’d like to see that in action.” He wanders a hand down his chest, palming his cock with a groan. “Go on, baby. Play with your pretty dick for me,”

His chest is heaving, cock flushed red and drooling under his fist. Your name falls from his pretty, wet mouth, his head thrown back in pleasure as his hips roll into his hand. He’s gorgeous like this, spread wide for you, moaning sweetly for you, touching himself for you. You edge closer with a predatory grin, savouring the way his pace falters as he watches you intently.

“Feeling good, baby?” Matty nods, pace speeding, eyes blown wide with lust. Arousal coils thickly in your gut, your body screaming out to touch him. And then you realise: there’s nothing stopping you. You crawl between his legs, resting on your elbows and grinning tauntingly up at him. His hand stills as he looks down at you, every filthy thought in his head visible on his face. “Did I say stop?”

“N-no.” A quiet moan slips from his lips, the sound striking a bolt of lust at your core, your thighs clenching around your wet cunt. “Sorry,” he adds hastily, stroking his dripping cock slowly. You press a kiss to his inner thigh, the muscle twitching under your lips.

“Sweet boy,” you croon. “You want me?” You pepper kisses across his thigh and over his lower stomach, his appreciative moan sending a pulse of desire zipping down your spine.

“Fuck, yeah. Please,” he whines sweetly.

Rocking back on your heels, you can’t resist toying with your clit for a moment, moaning theatrically as you swipe two fingers over your swollen cunt. “Where do you want me to touch you?”

Matty groans, squirming. “I don’t know and I don’t care — I just want your hands on me,” he gasps. “Please,” he adds, pathetic and so sweetly desperate that you can’t bring yourself to drag it out any longer. You crawl towards him, kneeling so that he’s eye level with your tits. He dips his head to wrap his lips around your nipple, his tongue working over you deliciously, desire pumping hard and fast through your veins.

Pulling away, you tilt his head up, basking in his adoring gaze. “Wanna ride you,” you whisper, leaning close. “Do you want that, sweet boy?” He nods frantically. “Say please,” you add with a sly grin.

“Please,” he gasps, rolling his hips desperately against you. You lower yourself onto him, the stretch and burn divine in your cunt as he bottoms out, filling you gloriously. “So fucking tight,” he moans, burying his face in your neck and sucking a bruise into your skin. Your body is awash with pleasure, your cunt clenching mindlessly around him as the obscene sound of your hips meeting fills the room.

“God, Matty, fuck,” you moan, slamming your hips down as hard as you can, driving his cock impossibly deeper into you. His thrusts are erratic, wild, chasing his orgasm as he fucks into you. “Are you close, baby?” you gasp, rolling your hips so that your clit grinds against his skin, pleasure seeping into your bones, dripping down your insides, torturously hot.

He chokes on a breath, fucking into you deeply. “Yeah,” he gasps. “Yeah, ‘m close.”

Heat knots in your belly. “Want you to cum inside me,” you murmur, leaning close to his ear, feeling his hips jump at your words. You rock your hips faster, clenching around him, trying every trick to pull an orgasm from him. “Come on, Matty. Cum for me, baby,” you urge, his thrusts turning sloppy as he moans helplessly against your skin, every sound sending spikes of arousal into your cunt.

Matty thrusts into you one last time, a garbled whine falling from his lips as he spills inside you, cock pulsing divinely. You bring your lips to his as he cums, swallowing his gasps in a rapturous kiss. Slowly, you lift yourself off him, whining quietly at the loss as you kneel between his legs. His eyes trail over you, gaze igniting flames under your skin. He’s transfixed by your cunt, his cum dripping out of you and pooling on the mattress. “So pretty,” he murmurs, running a finger over your cunt and circling over your clit, heat pooling in your stomach. Your knees ache, and you tell him as much, plying him with doe-eyes.

He croons sweetly in your ear, laying you down under him and mouthing over your tits, biting and licking over the bruised skin. You widen your legs, anticipation writhing under your skin like a live thing. “Matty, please,” you whine, and he finally obliges you, sliding two fingers into your soaked cunt. Your clit feels impossibly swollen, nerves a livewire as he rubs over it in quick circles. Your eyes screw shut against the waves of bliss washing over you as Matty crooks his fingers, filling you gorgeously.

“Come on, love,” he murmurs. “Watch.” You prise your eyes open, your gaze falling to where his cum seeps out around his fingers, the evidence of your desire mixing in a slick tapestry on his sheets. Incoherent moans tumble from your lips, a cascade of wanton affection. Your orgasm builds, rolling bliss swallowing you, flames licking from the tips of your toes to the crown of your skull. “I’m the only one who gets to ruin you like this, you hear me?”

“God, Matty,” you moan, your mind numb. Ecstasy beats in your chest as you roll your hips against his hand; his clever fingers work at you skilfully. You clench your cunt around him, waves of pleasure building higher and higher until they crash over you, Matty’s name falling from your lips in a scream. Your brain is melting, leaking from your ears and dripping down your sweat-soaked body as you writhe under him.

You’re sure you must be glowing, breath coming in short gasps as Matty brings his soaked hand to your mouth. Dutifully, you part your lips, the taste of both of you hot on your tongue. “You like that, gorgeous?” You moan appreciatively around his fingers, a slick pop ringing out as he pulls them free. He wipes his hand on the pillow, dipping his head to kiss between your tits before climbing off you. “You wanna get in the shower?” You nod, making no move to get up. “Poor baby,” he murmurs. “Need me to carry you?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, eyes slipping closed as he scoops you off the bed. The steady thump of his heartbeat soothes you as you rest your head against his chest.

“How do you feel, baby? Better? Less stressed?” he teases, kissing the top of your head gently.

“Mmm, yeah. Thank you,”

“Anything for you,” he says, a coy smile on his lips that betrays the truth in his words. “Anything for you.”

#this has been sitting in my google docs gathering dust for Months happy late christmas/early new year?#matty healy x reader #matty healy #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #writing #smut #smut prompt fills #requests #request

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bildaddyanduziraphale-aremarried · 6 months

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I’ve asked a good friend of mine, whom I dearly love, to be my plus 1 at the wedding. He knows I’ll be busy, and he has offered his services if needed as well.

He’s still getting over the loss of the love of his life, and he is determined not to let that happen to others. (He really is a good person/lycan)

@bil-daddy @docdust @loretta-dont-you-oppress-me @mrazfellco

#underworld lycan #@bil-daddy and @mrazfellco's wedding #Lucien #protector #bildaddy #ineffable husbands #doc dust #wedding planner goals #aziraphale #michael sheen

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snakeoil-pharmstore · 1 month

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Striking gold

I tried to brew the promised digestive (I had to experiment with it first before I can show you), but somehow the experiment went awry and I fulfilled the old alchemist's dream of turning shit (cheeseburgers) into gold.

And now I'm completely golden, while my beard was almost consumed by the alkahest.

@angelo-chuck-wagon and @amagnificentobsession Do you still recognize me? What will Sheeny say ...?

#doc dust #alchemist's dream #shit into gold

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technicallymaximumkitty · 2 months

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Ok so @mooncalf87 brought up the fact that snakes go blind when they shed and me being mentally unwell had to make a fluffy found family sick fic about it sooooooooooo-

(i am so weak for the trope)

(warning I know nothing about snakes and don’t have anything factually right about snakes and snake shedding in the fic, herpetologists plz don’t get mad)

(also this fic looong you have been warned)

It has been a while since Sir Pentious joined the Hazbin Hotel. Long enough that he would consider the other residents his friends, and they would consider him their friend as well. It was nice, having friends, real friends and not little eggs he programmed to be his company. However, having friends means they also grow concerned about you when you act differently, the Egg Bois believed anything he said for better or worse. The others? Wouldn't take his word if he wasn't convincing enough.

********

It started about three days ago when he woke up, his bed was peppered with loose scales like a sesame seed bagel. Pentious groaned to himself, shedding season was awful on Pentious. On his airship it would be two weeks of scales, scales, and more scales everywhere he went. His skin grew sensitive, his skin bruised and cut easily, and it was another week of cleaning after he was well again, those buggers getting stuck anywhere and everywhere. The worst part was the three to five days where he basically went blind. He would curl up in a nest of pillows and blankets and not leave until his vision unclouded, relying on his Egg Bois to help him with almost everything. Pentious swears that his spacial awareness gets worse during that time, points where the Egg Bois would have to spoon feed him as it was impossible for Pentious to get the spoon towards his mouth without nearly poking his eye out.

Sir Pentious stiffened up as it dawned on him, this wasn't his airship. This was the Hazbin Hotel. There were other people he had to think about. Shedding ment anywhere he went he would knock off loose scales, the action of moving would leave scales in his wake. Sharing living quarters meant he couldn't leave them lying around till he felt up to cleaning them. Now he believed that Niffty would be thrilled at the idea of cleaning up such a mess, however Vaggie was incredibly strict on making sure everyone cleaned up after themselves no matter how big or small said mess would be.

Whatever, it was the early days of the shed perhaps he could get away with it. The night prior his Egg Bois left one of his many identical suits, freshly pressed, draped across his vanity. Quickly changing into his suit he cringed at the scales that fell from his nightgown and sleeping cap. He always had some sort of scales stuck in his hat, it wasn't enough of a punishment having to shed around eight times a year, no, his scales on his frill also acted like dandruff. The loose scale falling off occasionally. It still haunts him the time he saw Niffty eat one of those dandruff scales, no second thought just, chomp. It’s really best not to think about what that little maid does, well anything really.

“Hello mr.boss man! When did the bed get sprinkles?” one of the Egg Bois piped up as they toddled towards him. Pentious gripped the non existing bridge of his nose, stupid, stupid Egg Boi.

“You do this every time I swear.” he grumbled, mostly to himself as he adjusted his top hat as it was the most important part of his outfit. Thank you very much. Eyeing the Eggies through the mirror as they dressed themselves for the morning (he would need to help them with buttons later) He nearly choked in disgust. There sat one of the Eggies holding a rather shiny scale close to his lips.

“No! No! Don’t fu**ing eat it!” he shrieked. The egg blinked once or twice before lowering it back onto the bed. Pentious grumbled to himself, stimming with his bowtie. Better than them eating it. How those things could help build ray guns but forget how to tie their shoes is beyond him.

That day he played it like it was nothing, best he could. Considering how awkward he was already, it worked in his favor. The day was a lazy Saturday which worked in his favor, no activities, no group bonding, just him and his Eggies locked in his airship’s workshop building to his heart's content. Everyone knew better than to try to find him on Saturdays. First and last time that happened Alastor got his jacket stuck in one of the gears of his latest project. If not for Charlie he would have been beaten an inch within of his afterlife. Now it was mandatory to plaster the door of his workshop with OSHA compliant warnings.

He worked the day away tinkering on this and that actively avoiding interacting with others and having his Eggies run around gathering the scattered scales. He had to cut his tinkering to nine PM as that was curfew and he did not need a cranky Angel Dust breathing down his back because his “steampunk bull**it was the loudest kind of banging he ever heard” Pentious had half the mind to presume it was some sort of innuendo.

Two days later the hotel was seeing less of him and more scales decorated Pentious’s sheets now moving up to his pillowcase as well. It did cross his mind to just tell everyone what was going on, but should he? He honestly didn't want anyone to worry about him, or worse, get freaked out or grossed out by such a thing. First time he was shedding he threw up in pure disgust, his skin was peeling off his body for crying out loud! And that was his reaction to himself, considering how colorful the others were, he would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about their reactions.

The edge of his frill was now a raw pink, almost all the scales gone from it, patches of pink covering his face and lower neck there were even some red flecks from the now broken skin. Some of his sheds took the entire two weeks, and some, like this particular shed, took about one week. It was a blessing and a curse as he didn't need to hide himself longer but he looked like he crawled out of his own grave with how fast the scales were falling.

“Jussst peachy.” he spat to himself how was he going to face the others looking like his own face melted off? Thing was he could not. Make-up, the usual go to, would upset his sensitive skin; it would sting worse than rubbing alcohol on a cut. Biting his lower lip, Pentious paced back and forth.

“Think da** you, think!” he hissed to himself, some genius he was, why was he drawing a blank? He had to come up with something! Anything!

That day he locked his door. Hiding was the only option. He knew it would be a fruitless endeavor, Charlie would chase anyone down if they were fifteen minutes late to breakfast, no way in Hell would she let him hole up in his room for a week. Curling up back into bed he hissed as the old scales dug into his exposed skin. He should have asked the Egg Bois to clean his bed, too late now. He wasn't going to get up, he made his bed and he was going to lie in it!

“Boss man, it’s morning time!” an Eggie chimed up, shaking his shoulder a bit. Pentious growled tossing himself to face the other side of his bed.

“Not now, Eggie. ‘M not waking up.” he grumbled pulling his blanket over his face. Maybe if he did so he could just disappear for a few days.

“But boss man is already awake!” the egg nodded.

“How obssservant of you.” Pentious rolled his eyes, “jussst leave me alone.”

He didn't need to turn around to know his eggs were congregating, rubbing their collective three brain cells together trying to come up with what to do. Their boss man was obviously sick, they needed to do something! This time Pentious couldn't fault them for their confusion, dare he say, he was just confused as them. Hell truly has frozen over.

********

Charlie was catching onto Sir Pentious. He was becoming more and more distant each day barely making it to group activities and trying to skip out on meal times. She did not like it one bit, growing concerned over the snake’s activity.

She knocked on his door, once, twice, thrice. Without an answer she was growing more concerned.

“Pentious? It’s me Charlie, is everything alright?”

“. . .”

“Pentious? Pen please, is everything alright?”

“. . .”

The door swung open revealing one of the Egg Bois who smiled and waved at her “Hello!” Charlie let out a small sigh of relief.

“Hello there, is Pentious in there?” she asked, gesturing inside the room.

“Oh boss man insent takeing any visitors right now!”

“Can I ask why?”

“Boss man is shedding right now!” The egg nodded curtly.

“Shedding?”

“Shedding.” the egg nodded.

********

Pentious woke up from his nap uneased. Someone was in his room, he could feel it. And feeling was the only thing he could do, his eyes had clouded over to the point he couldn't see jack.

Footsteps, he definitely heard footsteps. “who goesss there?” he stiffened up, he locked the door didn't he?

“Pentious it’s me.” ok he knew that voice. It was Charlie, she owned the hotel no doubt she probably could access a locked room. That did very little to ease his worry, but little was better than nothing.

“Pentious are you alright?” she asked, the question being accommodated by a dip in the bed.

********

Sir Pentious looked at Charlie’s general direction, his once magenta eyes a glassy blue.

“What are you doing here misss Charlotte?” he was on the defensive and it only caused Charlie to become more upset, they were friends right? Why was he so scared of her?

“I came to check up on you, you disappeared there and I was growing worried.”

“Worried, yesss I, I can sssee how one would grow worried yesss.” Pentious rang his hands, fidgeting the best he could with the lack of bowtie. Charlie reached her hand out gently cupping Sir Pentious’s face. He jumped back startled.

“Pentious your acting a bit strange. What’s going on?”

“I, I guess I have nothing to hide now.” he sighed. He could admit he was more than grateful with how gentle Charlie was acting. The way she treated him with comfort instead of disgust was something he didn't know he needed until now.

“Yesss im sssheding. It’sss normal for me but, I wassss nervousss about how you and the othersss would react.”

“So that’s why you tried to avoid us.”

Pentious nodded, gently sinking his face into Charlie’s hands. “It’sss rather embarrasssing.”

“Would it be rude of me to ask you something?”

“I don’t sssupossse ssso.”

“Why are your eyes like that? Is that apart of the shedding?”

Pentious sighed, “yesss. It isss.”

“You can't see right now?”

“No I can’t.” Pentious curled up back into his makeshift nest. “it will passs do not fret, one weeksss time and i ssshall be right asss rain.”

He could feel Charlie get up from the bed, she probably walked away now. Charlie has already done so much to help him already it would be selfish of him to ask for me, especially since he's done this many, many, many times before. And it’s not like he lied to her either. He nestled himself into his blanket nest. Maybe he would ask one of the eggs to fetch him a book later (he had learned how to read braille for such occasions) but for now, he would get more sleep.

********

The next time Pentious woke up he could tell the sun was up high in the sky. Was it a bad thing that he basically slept until noon? Maybe. He stretched himself, getting the excess sleep out of his system.

“Holy sh** you can unlock your jaw, that far?”

Pentious jumped back in shock smacking his head into the headboard. How did angel dust get into his quarters?

“Oof right, my bad i forgot you can't see”

“What in the nine realmsss are you doing?”

“Hey man, i don’t want to be here either but Charlie put me on babysitting duty, so like, you're stuck with me now big boy.” Angel Dust sat on the bed next to Pentious, the bed dipping under.

“You don’t have to ssstick around you know. I'm not a child.” Pentious curled onto himself. Shedding was his most vulnerable time and he knew Angel, he wasn't the kindest of people. Angel noticed the snake’s recoil.

“Relax toots I ain’t gonna hurt you, I know where you're coming from.”

“”You ssshed to?” Pentious didn't bother looking up at Angel, he wouldn't make eye contact even if he wanted to, which, dollars for doughnuts, he didn't.

“Well when spiders do it it’s called molting but ya. I shed. It’s a fu**ing nightmare, i lose so much fur you could make another me outta’ll those hairballs.” Angel chuckled. It was true, he mottled around four times a year and he showered at least three times a day during that time to try and keep his fur at bay. First time he molded he would have sworn up and down he was dying of some sort of disease. “Oh god I probably got some creepy fans that made dolls outta my old molt.”

Pentious couldn't help but chuckle at that statement. By all accounts it would be horrifying, a hair doll, but the premise was also so absurd it was humorous.

“He, glad you think it’s funny.” Angel swung his legs so that he was now fully sitting on the bed and not just its edge.

“You're sitting on the bed?”

“Where else would I be? On the floor? Pfft I'm way too classy for that.” Angel reclined himself making himself comfortable before slinging an arm over Pentious. After the initial recoil of the unexpected touch Pentious leaned into the hug. It felt really nice actually the warmth of another person in his time of unwell. A small coo like hiss came from his throat in a way that could only be described as content.

“Ohh you like cuddles now do you?” Angel teased pulling himself closer to Pentious in a way where Pentious was leaning his head on Angel’s shoulder.

“Yesss i sssupossse ssso.”

“Aww don’t be such a tease, you like it.” Angle giggled as Pentious nuzzled himself into Angel’s shoulders.

“I feel sssafe, for sssome reassson.” mumbled Pentious. Not to purple his pros but the hug felt like a rock of which a boat was tied to. Anchored so the boat wouldn't drift into the sea.

“He, the first time someone said that to me.” Angel shook his head before petting behind Pentious’s frill.

********

after dinner charlie made her way to Pentious's room.

"Pentious?"

"oh yes, good evening Charlotte" he smiled closing his braille copy of paradise lost.

"I baught dinner for you."

"oh, thank you I'm very grateful." he smiled. he could smell it from where he sat, Alastor defenalty had free range in the kitchen.

Charlie handed it to him and with uncertain hands he was able to grab the bowl, only getting his thumb into the gumbo. He gave a shaky smile holding the bowl in a near death grip.

Charlie noticed the uncertainty Sir Pentious had with the bowl "is everything alright?"

"I, I'm afraid I am a bit consered on how I shall eat it." he did not want to spill it on himself, especially since he could feel the heat radiating off of it.

The bed dipped under the weight of Charlie as she sat down. "If you're ok with it, could I help you?" Pentious was taken aback, she would be willing to do that for him?

Charlie grabbed a spoonful for him gently pressing the spoon to his lips he accepted the spoonful. any other time Pentious would be embarrassed at such acting, being doted on like a child, but right now it felt nice, being cared for when he couldn't do it himself. Charlie was a lot more gentle than the Egg Bois, who would jam the spoon down his throat. first time in a long time eating during his shed was not a nightmare and rather enjoyable

********

a few days later and his eyes cleared up as well as his scales finally growing in. he cleaned up as much as he could noting that he dident have to spend the entire day cleaning up his old skin (Niffty must have found her way in his room) but what shocked him most was the response of the others. they treated it like nothing happened. he liked that. no mocking words, no insults on his appearance, no one thinking he was anymore incapable than before.

yes he liked the hotel, and its residents. he never knew the true meaning of friends until now and he was ever so grateful for them.

********

Might do some more I had fun writing

#hazbin hotel #headcanon #sir pentious #charlie morningstar #fanfiction #no beta we die like men #angel dust #sickfic #i guess #egg bois #niffty #alastor #it was like six pages on the google doc

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amagnificentobsession · 6 months

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Bildad/AZFell Wedding

I’m looking for a photographer(s) for the big day.

Still photography, video. Wedding, reception. We will feed you (ox ribs, cake) with the possibility of other food 🍱 (trying to find a sushi caterer for Aziraphale)

You may be asked to take some blow job angle tasteful boudoir photos after the wedding. Possible ménage à trois additional “family”member photos/video.

@docdust @loretta-dont-you-oppress-me

Do we know any photographers?

#good omens #ineffable husbands #bildaddy loves mr fell #bildad the shuite #bildaddy's and mrazfellco's wedding #mrazfellco #photographer #planning a wedding and i get sidetracked #wedding planner goals #eternity isn’t long enough for them #eternity wedding #doc dust #@bil-daddy #@docdust #@mrazfellco

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total-drama-brainrot · 1 month

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alenoah as scottney bottom next

yes i want to hear alejandro call himself noah's girlfriend why

Realest anon ask I've ever read.

#I too want to hear Alejandro call himself Noah's girlfriend #maybe one day I'll brush the dust off of my google docs and write a drabble for this idea #been kind of busy lately. the Ao3 curse kind of struck me?#alenoah #replies

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gibsongirrl · 2 months

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thinking very inappropriate thoughts that may or may not get me locked up idk!

#jeremy allen white #dusting off the google docs for this one

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kenobihater · 3 months

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Disco Elysium (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kim Kitsuragi & Jean Vicquemare, Kim Kitsuragi/Original Character(s), Jean Vicquemare/Original Character(s), Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi Characters: Kim Kitsuragi, Jean Vicquemare, Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Drag Queens, Gay Bar, Cruising, Polari, hanky code, gay culture, Pining, Unrequited Love, The kimharry is plenty requited but Kim doesn't know that, Trans Kim Kitsuragi, It's barely mentioned but it matters to me, POV Kim Kitsuragi, Written in the Style of the Game Disco Elysium Summary:

The queen turns, and your gazes lock in the dim multicolored lighting of the drag bar. Both of you freeze on the spot.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Trivial: Success] - You stare at Lieutenant Jean Vicquemare for a long moment. He's wearing a red dress with a plunging neckline. He's unshaven but is in heavy drag, eyebrows blocked out and redrawn, face perfectly powdered, and eyes sharply lined. His lips are blood red and he's painted gold dripping from his mouth and running down his throat in a clear nod to his stage name.

ATARAXIA [Heroic: Success] - You are the first to recover.

#len's fics #disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #kimharry #like it's not the focus of the fic but it does drive the conflict #jean vicquemare #me posting a jean fic when i'm ambivalent to him at best? shocking i know!#kim is the pov character and this is mostly a character study of him but still!#not even rlly in a disco mood rn but i had this just gathering dust in my docs and thot it was good enough to polish up and post

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puddingpawprints · 11 months

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Countdown

Jay gets bored during a workout with Cole. It’s safe to say neither of them make much progress as a result.

Hello!!!!!!!!! This is my first tk fic, hope you enjoy!! this is intended to be platonic but you can see it as romantic if you’d like, whatever floats your boat :3

(takes place a while after Season 11 for those that care fjdksfds)

Wordcount: 3384

Safe for Work

This is a tickle fanfic! If that’s not your thing, scroll away.

. . . . .‿︵‿︵‿୨🍮୧︵‿︵‿︵. . . . .

“43! 44! 45!” Jay cheers, watching his best friend power through a set of pull-ups, sweat shining on his pinched brow.

Cole raises his chin above the steel bar with visible effort, reaching the end of his endurance after the past 2 hours of training their bodies with weights and various exercises. He hangs on the bar and breathes hard, flipping the hair damp with exertion out of his eyes.

“How many left?” He says between deep inhales, his chest rising and falling.

The ginger quickly counts on his fingers, “5, 45 was your set last week.” Cole groans and throws his head back.

“Dude come on! It’s just 5! That’s like, a little more than 3. You can do 3 more and then some!”

“But I don’t wannaaaaaaa…” The other whines, slowly kicking his legs in the air like a child on the monkey bars being told they have to leave.

“I’ll give you one of my pudding cups if you do 55,” Jay says with a salesman’s smirk. Cole looks up quickly, a drop of sweat flying from the speed.

“50.” He bargains, baring his sweet tooth with a small smile.

“53.”

“51.”

“Deal,” Jay says, confident that given how tired the other already is, he won’t be able to win the bet.

The black ninja adjusts his grip and takes a deep breath, gathering himself before pulling himself up with a strained grunt.

“46!” Jay resumes his rallying as he watches his friend’s chin slowly go past the bar. “47!”

Cole’s mouth is twisted into a grimace as he shakes with strain, becoming more and more aware of how heavy his body is. “48! Come on Cole!” The motivation from the other was starting to get annoying, but he knew that the minute he asked Jay to stop talking, the ginger would either start talking even more just to mess with him or Cole’s stamina would

disappear. He couldn’t explain how it worked, like how he couldn’t explain the difference between baking soda and baking powder. They were both white, went into the batter, and had ‘baking’ in the name, why don’t they work the same??

“49!! You’re so close, dude!” Jay’s enthusiasm was a little odd considering how defensive he could be of his sweets. If anybody had a bigger sweet tooth than the guy who was famous for eating cake, it would be Jay. The only one who could beat them both in that area would be Lloyd. The sweaty man didn’t think much of it, the taxing action of pulling himself up demanding his focus.

Cole hung from the bar to catch his breath again, panting hard from the burning in his arms and core.

“Dude don’t stop now, you got 2 left-“

“I know, Jay! Doing this shit is hard,” He interrupted, huffing and flipping the pesky strands of sticky hair out of his eyes again. “I just need a minute.”

“Ok. 1, 2, 3-“

“Oh First Master, you big baby.” Cole laughed as he lightly kicked at the other man, “You need to work with Wu on your patience.”

“And you need to do 2 more pull-ups, chop chop!” Jay retorted sassily, poking Cole’s side with a finger to make his point known and felt.

“Knock it off!” Cole laughed while squirming on the bar. “I can’t focus if you’re acting like a toddler.”

“But you can focus on Ninja Kart when Lloyd is screaming in all our ears about the game being rigged?”

“That’s different.”

“Not really.”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“I’ll argue about this later.” Cole shook his head, adjusting his hands.

“When? After your hands fuse to the bar from hanging there so long?”

“After you can do the same amount of pushups as me.” The black ninja looked down with an obnoxious smile.

“Wow. That’s low.” Jay remarked, crossing his arms and staring with the expression of a bratty child being told ‘no’.

“Not as low as you should be on your pushups.”

“Ok, you know what?!” The ginger huffed, “You’ve lost your pudding privileges!” Cole’s mouth opened in fake shock and disappointment, letting go of the bar seeing that his friend had stopped counting in favor of falling into the argument trap.

“I’ll just have to steal one when you aren’t looking.” The other smiled mischievously as he slowly windmilled his arms, quickly getting a furious glare. “Do we have anything else on the workout regime today?” He asked as he crouched to take a swig from his water bottle. Jay pulled his phone from the pocket of his loose gym shorts and looked through the list of exercises he had written down from Wu. Skimming the ones the pair had already done, he reaches the bottom of the list, and lets out an obnoxious groan. “What?” Cole questions with a raised eyebrow, wiping his neck with a small towel.

“We have to do a plank for 2 minutes or more,” Jay complains.

“Planks are easy, though.” The earth ninja said.

“Says you mountain man! Not all of us have the core strength of a literal continent.” Jay shoots back, his nose scrunching in aggravation with his hands on his hips.

“Sucks to suck, doesn’t it triple A?”

“Shut up and get on the floor, dirt boy.” Jay shot back, getting a timer ready on his phone as Cole laughed. The earth ninja took another drink of his water before shutting the cap and lying stomach down on the tatami mat, letting a curt moan slip as his propped elbows stretched his upper back. “Ok, ready?” The other sat beside Cole, crossing his legs with his thumb over the start button.

“Yup.” The ninja on the floor answered, shifting his arms to hold his weight better. With a ‘Go’ from Jay, Cole tightened his core and raised his middle, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes in concentration.

The lightning ninja watched the seconds tick by on his phone, occasionally flicking his eyes to make sure Cole’s back was straight. 6, 7, 8, 9…

And now Jay was bored.

“Coooooole, I’m bored.” He said out loud, laying on his back. Cole responded by letting out a long exhale. “Wow, rude. You won’t even answer your best friend’s immediate suffering. Right next to you!”

“Shut up, Jay,” Cole warned, not opening his eyes. “Count the threads in the mat or something.” The ginger huffed, holding up his phone over his head to recheck the timer. 18, 19, 20… He sat back up to stare at Cole’s back. The loose black tank top he was wearing hung from his torso, showing a bit of his sides and stomach. Jay looked back to Cole’s face, still tightly knit with focus.

There was a seed of an idea, one Cole might hate him for. The black ninja did not like being interrupted; napping, eating, drawing, and working out were all things the noiret would prefer to not be taken away from if it could be helped. Training especially was a way for him to take his mind off of the outside world, and he was always working to make himself stronger and better at fighting. It was admirable, but it could lead to some unhealthy expectations…

Jay scooched himself to face Cole’s side, placing his chin on his palm as he watched a few more seconds go by. A smile crawled its way on his face as the idea became more and more appealing, and he tried to hide it with his hand despite the fact the other’s eyes were still closed and facing away from him anyway. Another glance at the phone told him Cole was 35 seconds into his plank.

“Hey Cole, your form is incorrect.” The blue ninja lied, trying not to let his smile become obvious. That got his best friend to react, turning his head and giving Jay a confused look. “Raise your back riiiiight…here.” He reached a pointed finger towards Cole’s exposed side, repeating his earlier action when Cole was hanging on the pull-up bar. A snort, and a quick inhale.

“Jay- don’t.” The other protested, trying to keep a stern voice.

“What? I’m just trying to help.” He knew it was a bullshit lie, especially coming from him, but Jay was having too much fun. “You need to fix your form here too.” He continued prodding at Cole’s side, moving up to his ribs. The black ninja was beginning to shake now, a combination of strained effort and giggles.

“Duhude! I can’t- my forhorm is fihihine!” Cole laughed, now completely unable to keep a serious face as Jay lightly tickled him. The other was frankly impressed that he hadn’t collapsed yet, especially when he began to trace lines on the exposed small of his back, the laughter going up in pitch. “Jahahay!”

“Wow Cole, I didn't think your plank would be this bad. We should work on doing planks more often so you can get out of this bad habit.” Jay paid zero attention to Cole’s crumbling endurance and was having the time of his life doing so. “You need to raise your hips too, they’re way low.” Cole let out a short shriek as Jay squeezed his hip.

“AAH! Dickhehehead!” He laughed, trying to breathe through his tight stomach and the giggles at the same time.

“Hey, it's not my fault your form needs correcting!”

Cole’s endurance finally emptied, and he collapsed onto the floor, now able to try and squirm away from Jay’s evil hands. “This is nohohohot cohorrectihihihihing! You ahahahahass!!” He yelled, curling in on himself on his side to try and avoid the tickles.

“Awww man! You didn’t make the time.” The ginger huffed with mock disappointment, latching his fingers to random ribs and tasing them. The reaction was immediate, Cole’s belly laugh coming solid and loud as he thrashed on the tatami mats under his best friend. “Consider this payback for being rude when I was just trying to help!”

“YOUHOUHOU DID NOHOHOHOT HEHEHEHELP!” The earth ninja exclaimed between laughs, his own hands trying and failing to pry the others from his sides.

“Help comes in many forms, Cole. You need to be a little more open-minded.” Jay retorted, channeling his element to send harmless shocks through his fingers to tickle the ninja’s ribs even more. “Like right now, I’m helping you get used to my electricity.”

“JAHAHAHAHAHAY!!” He was fighting for his life now, throwing himself from one side to the other to try and buck the other off. It was proving to be a difficult task, as Jay had somehow managed to straddle Cole’s hips as he lay on his stomach, scrabbling at the floor to try and crawl away from the tickling. “MERCYHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!”

“I’ll grant mercy if you promise not to steal any of my pudding.” The blue ninja offered, stopping the shocks but keeping his fingers scribbling at the same speed. The black ninja

continued to writhe under his friend, trying to reach his hands behind to shoo Jay’s hands away. But when Jay shoved his fingers into his armpits and began scratching, a renewal of energy made Cole buck and screech.

“FUHUHUHUCK! I WOHOHOHOHON’T!”

“You woooooon't?” Jay pestered, tilting his head as he dragged the word out and diving his hand into the scrunched crevice of his friend’s neck to scribble at.

“I WON’T STEHEHEHEAL YOUR PUHUHUHUDDIHIHIHIHING!” Cole managed to get out, gulping air as Jay stopped. He let his body lay completely flat on the cool floor, his back twitching while residual giggles leaked out in between breaths. His best friend crawled off his hips and pushed his water bottle to him across the floor. Cole looked at the bottle, and then at Jay. “Dick.” He said sourly.

“In the flesh.” Jay acknowledged with obnoxious triumph, crossing his legs and turning off the timer as Cole turned on his back to sit up and drink his water. “You had 17 seconds left! You could’ve made that.”

“I could’ve if you weren’t being a total jackass.” Cole said while rolling his eyes, putting his water down, and grabbing his phone from the floor, tossed aside in the roughhousing. His friend chortled with fake innocence and laid down for his plank, staring at the intricate patterns of the threading while the timer was readied.

“Ok, are you all set?” The taller man said, patiently biding his time while Jay nodded. He started the timer, and the ginger held up his body while taking a deep breath. Cole watched the numbers on the timer slowly ticking down, already figuring out what the best way to get back at his best friend would be.

He cracked his knuckles absently and watched Jay struggle to hold his plank. Although the master of lightning was still an incredibly strong fighter, he had been teased by the others for his weak core strength. He didn’t have abs like Kai or Nya, instead having lean muscles. Although this worked to his advantage so he could move faster in fights, it also meant he didn’t have that much endurance when it came to these kinds of exercises.

“Jay, will you do me a favor?” Cole asked, not even trying to fight a huge smile as he plotted. The other hummed, taking a shaky breath. “Hold still.” The reaction was immediate; Jay whipped his head to stare at Cole with eyes the size of Zane’s shurikens. He noticed that Cole had moved his hand to hover under his stomach, his fingers in a claw form.

“Wait- Waitwaitwait Cole you don’t have to-” The hand hadn’t even touched his stomach yet and he was already trying to reason for his life in between nervous giggles. He knew that Cole would always get any of them back for that kinda stuff, but he didn’t think his teammate would do it this soon.

“No, I think I do, Jay. Fair’s fair after all, right?” He gave a condescending smile as Jay’s trembling increased. Cole reached his still hand up, just touching down on the black tank top that covered the planking torso. The blue ninja let out a small shriek, now realizing that he had backed himself into a very dangerous corner.

“What? I’m just helping with your form after all.” Cole said with a mocking tone, slowly moving his fingers and taking great joy in the way his friend sucked in a breath to stop himself from laughing. Strained snorts prompted Cole to move his hand in a circular motion around where his belly button would be. Jay immediately folded inward, cackling as Cole’s fingers picked up speed.

“AHAHahaha- IhI’m sorry! WAHAHAAAIT- Cohohohole please!” He tried to negotiate, even if he knew that once Cole started, he wasn’t going to until he had made his point clear.

“You know? I don’t think you are. I don’t think you’re sorry at all.” His tickler retorted casually, effortlessly pulling him into his lap so he could reach better. Cole wrapped an arm around his chest and scribbled his fingers into the top of his ribs, tickling his stomach with his other hand as if it were not ‘agony’ for the blue ninja. Jay’s laughter went up in pitch as he tried to pull himself free of Cole’s arm, kicking his legs and hitting the floor with his heels.

“NONONOHOHOHO! Cohohohole plehehehease!! UhuhuhUHUNCLE!!” He laughed with a touch of hysteria.

“I don’t think your uncle’s coming to save you.” Cole teased playfully, his tone becoming dark as his smile turned sinister through his cheeks. “The only person who’s here is…”

“DOHOHOhohon’t!! Don’t sahahahay ihihit!” Jay pleaded as he flushed, his face already warm from how hard he was laughing.

“Don’t say what?” Cole asked, his smile growing with mischief. “Don’t say…the tickle monster?!”

Jay’s fate had been sealed as Cole’s hands swiped under his tank top, quickly scribbling all over the ticklish skin. Jay squealed and thrashed in his friend’s hold, a rush of adrenaline washing his energy back into him. He laughed even harder as he felt tiny raspberries on his neck and shoulders, his supposed best friend continuing to tickle him out of his mind.

“COHOHOHOHOHOHLE! NOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE!” He tried to beg through snorts and chortles, shaking his head as if trying to wiggle the tickles out of his body.

“No can do, you’ve got-” He leaned over to look at his phone, still tickling his squirming target. “A minute and 18 seconds left.” The black ninja smiled, squeezing the man’s hip with one hand and his opposite side with the other. Jay’s mirth went up in pitch again as he tried rocking his body to get out of the stone-stiff hold.

“GYAHAHAHAHA! YOUHOU DIHIHIHIHICK!!” The ginger argued as if he were not in the worst position ever to do so. Still fighting against his friend’s arms, he reached for the other’s knees and flailed to grab them, trying to push himself forward. This escape attempt backfired when a hand immediately began scratching at one of the exposed armpits, making Jay snap his arms down and fall back against his friend’s chest.

“Not so fast bud, gotta finish your time.” Cole said, looking down at his friend with a smile, taking a little too much enjoyment out of his squirming.

“I CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T! PLEHEHEHEASE NOHOHO-”

“So what exactly is going on here?” A different voice interrupted, making both look to the sliding door. Nya stood with a hand on her hip, her other hand holding the door open as she watched with a vaguely confused expression.

“Oh, hey Nya. We’re finishing our workout, what’s up?” The earth ninja said calmly, not stopping his fingers or acknowledging Jay on the brink of falling apart from laughing so hard.

“NYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHEHEHE!” He begged, looking at his girlfriend with small tears in his eyes. His expectation that the water ninja would jump in to save him was soundly destroyed when Nya only gave a small smile as if his torture was endearing to her.

“Wu said lunch is ready. Come to the table when you’re done, ok?” She said loudly over the laughter, taking mental notes on where Cole’s hands were and how badly Jay was laughing. She’d abuse that information another day.

“Sure thing, thanks Nya!” The taller man said chipperly, spidering his hands up and down Jay’s sides as he gave a blameless smile, watching Nya huff out a chuckle and walk away. Mercifully, and because his best friend was starting to wheeze, he stopped his hands and let them come to the floor to support himself while leaning back. Taking the opportunity, Jay weakly rolled out of the ninja’s lap as his chest heaved, pulling down his raised tank top that exposed his giant tickle spot of a stomach. “You didn’t make your time either. We’re even.” His ‘friend’ said cooly, looking down at him with a smug grin. Jay tried and failed to muster up a glare, the residual giggles and ghostly tingles forcing him to shuffle away toward his water bottle as he kept his eyes on Cole, who was turning off the timer on his phone.

“You’re..still…a dick.” He said between large inhales, gulping his water down as if he were going to die otherwise.

“What? Fair’s fair, right?” Cole teased, wiggling his fingers before folding them into a fist and holding it out. A peace offering, which the other squinted at suspiciously over the cap of his bottle. He wasn’t new to Cole’s tricks, being best friends with him taught Jay to be on his guard the hard way. “I promise I’m done. Swear on my chili.” The black ninja tried, moving his still fist a little closer. He watched his teammate think for a bit, and then hold up his hand to make it into a fist, bumping the dark knuckles against his freckled ones.

“Truce. No takebacks.” The blue ninja said quickly, eyeing his friend with lighthearted distrust.

“Sure, I’ll just take a pudding cup as a bargaining chip.” Cole snarked, quickly taking off and running down the hall where Nya had gone earlier.

“YOU MOUNTAIN CLIMBING CUNT!” Jay screeched, stumbling to his feet and speeding after his friend, laughter following the two of them all the way to the dining room, where Wu scolded the both of them for running in the halls.

. . . . .‿︵‿︵‿୨🍮୧︵‿︵‿︵. . . . .

hello again :3 feel free to leave constructive criticism!!

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