#i need the escape!!! i want to enjoy things again!!!

[holybibly]

I promised you a sweet treat in honor of 1.5k likes for Pink Star Presents and here it is. Unholy thoughts of the day, my sugar bunnies: You looked like a work of art, all helpless and handcuffed to the bed, and Seonghwa couldn't wait to fully destroy you. As they say, beautiful things don't last.

Or dark mafia boss Seonghwa tries wax play with you.

You scream softly as you feel the hot, thick drop of wax dripping onto your swollen, sensitive nipple, sending conflicting signals of pain and pleasure through your body. The warm, sticky liquid pours out of you in a slow flow, show Seonghwa how much you like what's going on.

Seonghwa's dark, predatory eyes grow heavy, the glossy black pupils dilating with lust, completely consuming his already bottomless black irises as he watches you writhe on the bed, naked and handcuffed to the luxurious wrought iron headboard сompletely helpless in the face of his all-encompassing power.

He leaned over you like a predator, holding a black soya candle, between his long, slender fingers covered with the expensive, soft leather of his gloves. The pale flame casting dark shadows on his tense, devilishly handsome face which made him look like a frighteningly gorgeous, dangerous vampire, as if he'd stepped out of the pages of a dark erotic novel. Sometimes you really couldn't understand how you got into a relationship with Seonghwa, but anyway, you couldn't get out of it. At least alive.

"You look divine." Another drop of wax fell on your chest, but you ignored it, too absorbed in Seonghwa's soft, velvety voice. "Like a real angel."

Small patches of wax decorate your smooth, creamy skin in an exquisite, intricate pattern that shimmers faintly in the half-light of the bedroom, each time your breasts rise and fall in time with your breathing. Most of the wax is on your tits, because Hwa just can't resist leaving marks on them. Maybe it had something to do with his lactation kink, or how strong his oral fixation was. But one thing was for sure - Hwa was obsessed with your tits.

Seonghwa's sensual, plump lips open in a low moan, his thick, pre-cum dripping cock twitching in his classic designer trousers, and his cum-filled balls tense with the pathetic, lingering whimper you make when the hot black wax touches your other nipple.

Your head spins in the maelstrom of painfully sweet sensations, your pussy almost shamefully wet and sticky. You're flowing so hard that your mucus mixing with the wax on the inside of your plush thighs. And just the sight of it gives Seonghwa an almost animalistic, insatiable desire to bury his face in your needy, beautiful cunt and feast on it for hours. But first he wanted to hear you beg. And of course, you don't keep him waiting too long

"P-please… Seonghwa, I need you so much…" You spread your legs wider for him, lifting your hips invitingly and shamelessly showing him your cunt glistening with your mucus. You can almost hear the wet, sticky sound as your labia spread to reveal your hole and swollen, throbbing clit.

Seonghwa moans softly and brings the candle to his mouth to blow it out before placing it on the crystal tray next to the bed. His gloves follow next; perfect white teeth seductively biting the tip of his index finger covered in luxurious leather before Hwa pulls it from his hand. He does the same with the other glove.

It only takes a few seconds before he is on the bed with you, his strong hands roughly and possessively spreading your legs even wider.

"Seonghwa!!!' A loud squeal escapes your lips as Seonghwa's long, warm tongue licks your folds and plunges into your hole.

"Shhh, angel, be nice and obedient and don't keep me from enjoying my food. Otherwise we'll have to play with the wax again and this time I won't be so nice."

[claramelooo]

WOVEN FATES (1/???)

Here I aaam! Remembering that the posts will be every Saturday.

So, enjoy it!

*I'm a little drunk rigth now, so, I'm sorry if you find mistakes*

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Pairing: AgathaRio X Fem Reader

Summary: A serie of events makes you fall into the good graces of two older women.

Hey! I've a masterlist

Fascination

You wake up to the first rays of sunlight slipping through the gaps in the curtains. Your bedroom is small, just 23 square meters, but it’s the only space in the world you can truly call your own. A study desk pushed against the wall, shelves crammed with books and notebooks filled to the last page, and plants scattered in every corner—ferns, succulents, and a small cactus that stubbornly clings to life even when you forget to water it.

After stretching, you get up and head straight to the window, where your plants greet the day. You talk to them in a soft tone as you mist them, almost as if expecting a reply. “You look beautiful today. I promise I won’t forget you again.”

Lucky, your overly talkative black cat, meows at your feet. He wants nothing but your attention, and you oblige, stroking his head with a tired smile. “Good morning, Lucky. Seems like you’ve got a lot to say, huh?” He meows back, and you laugh.

In the comfortable silence of the morning, your mind drifts, as it often does, to the past. You grew up in the suburbs, in a small house that was always full. Your father did his best to raise you and your five older siblings, but there was a gap that was never filled: your mother. She left when you were just a child, and though no one in the family spoke openly about it, her absence was a constant shadow in your life.

You remember the nights when your older siblings would laugh and argue in the living room, while you, the youngest, hid in a corner with a book or a notebook. Writing was your escape, your way of creating a world where you had control, where mothers didn’t leave and bad things always had a solution.

She left when you were little, leaving behind you, your five older siblings, and a father who never knew how to handle her absence. You remember the nights when the silence of the house was broken by questions no one dared to ask. Why did she leave? Was it us? Was it me?

No matter how hard he tried, your father couldn’t fill the void she left behind. He worked all day, came home exhausted, and did his best to keep the house running, but affection and kind words were never his strong suit.

“You’re strong. You don’t need to cry over this,” he’d say every time tears threatened to spill. Gradually, you learned to swallow your tears and convince yourself that you needed to be strong, even when everything inside you wanted to collapse.

Her absence shaped much of who you are today, though not in a way you like to admit. It’s hard to look in the mirror and not feel... inadequate. You wonder if she left because you weren’t good enough, because you weren’t good enough.

These thoughts are like shadows that appear at the most unexpected times, especially when you try to open up to someone. Intimacy is terrifying. You fear that if people truly know you, they’ll abandon you, just like she did.

In school, this made you shy and reserved. You always felt like a puzzle with a missing piece, unable to fit in. Your siblings tried to shield you from the worst, but they had their own battles to fight.

You were the youngest, the “baby” of the house, and yet you never had the chance to be treated as such. While they laughed and argued, you hid in your room, writing stories that transported you to worlds where mothers didn’t abandon their daughters.

This absence also gave you a fierce determination. You promised yourself that if no one was there to take care of you, then you would take care of yourself. You studied late into the night, devouring books on screenwriting and filmmaking from the public library.

When the college acceptance letter arrived, it felt like the world had paused for a moment. You’d made it. The first in your family to set foot on a university campus. Despite the pride, the insecurity is always there, lurking. The fear of not being good enough, of failing, of being discarded. You work hard because you feel you have something to prove, even if no one asked you to.

The sound of the bell above the door announces another day of work at the small café. You walk in, adjusting your apron with a resigned sigh. The air smells comforting, like fresh coffee, but the weight of the shift ahead is always present. You do everything there: serve tables, clean counters, even organize the stock. Your boss is an unpleasant man, known for his sexist jokes and invasive behavior. But you need the money, so you swallow your anger and keep going.

América, your coworker, is the opposite of you. Rebellious and fearless, she confronts the boss without hesitation, even knowing it could cost her the job. You make an unlikely team, but somehow it works.

As you wipe down the counter, you hear the sharp click of heels echoing through the café. The sound has a weight to it, cutting through the usual hum of the room. A barely perceptible pause spreads through the space, as if the air itself had been suspended for a second. It’s not just curiosity—it’s reverence.

Your gaze lifts almost instinctively, and it’s impossible not to notice the woman who just walked in. Tall, with perfectly styled dark hair and a black blazer that looks tailor-made, she exudes power. But it’s more than that. There’s something in the way her eyes sweep the room—a sharp coldness, as if she could dissect everyone there with just a glance. And people notice her. Some whisper her name, others try not to stare too long.

You swallow hard, trying not to seem intimidated. But when her eyes finally land on you, it’s as if the world around you has disappeared. She doesn’t look away, and the intensity of that moment makes your stomach churn. For a split second, it feels like she knows exactly who you are—all your fears, insecurities, and dreams laid bare before her.

Summoning what little courage you have left, you adjust your apron and force a smile you’ve practiced hundreds of times. “Good morning, what can I get for you today?” Your voice sounds calm, but your heart is racing.

The woman continues to stare at you, silent. Her dark eyes analyze every detail: the slightly worn apron, your hands gripping the notepad too tightly, even the stray strand of hair that escaped your bun. It’s unsettling, as if she’s assessing every tiny aspect of your existence.

“A caramel latte... and a black coffee. No sugar. To go.” Her voice finally breaks the silence. It’s low, gravelly, like distant thunder, and carries a strange familiarity—as if she’s used to being obeyed without question.

You nod, trying to stay professional. But as you prepare the orders, you feel her eyes on you, watching every move. The weight of her gaze is almost unbearable, like a test you didn’t know you were being forced to take. Your hands start to tremble, and an anxious heat spreads through your body. The feeling of being judged grows.

When you turn to hand over the drinks, the tension in your muscles is so tight that your hands falter. Before you realize it, the hot coffee cup slips, spilling the brown liquid all over the woman’s immaculate white blouse. The sound of the cup hitting the counter is muffled by the low, controlled sound of frustration that escapes her lips—not a scream, but a deep, restrained noise.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, your voice trembling. Grabbing napkins in a panic, you lean in to clean up the mess but freeze when you see the stain spreading across the expensive fabric.

The murmur in the café grows louder. Someone lets out an audible sigh, while another mutters something about “the mighty Rio” being treated so carelessly. The name hangs in the air, and only then does it fully hit you.

You knew she seemed powerful, but you hadn’t realized you were standing in front of Rio Vidal—one of the world’s most renowned visual artists. Like her wife, Agatha Harkness, she’s an icon. Together, they’re one of the few openly gay couples to dominate and be celebrated by the industry. Her fame precedes her, and now you’ve just spilled coffee on her.

The woman doesn’t say anything immediately, but her eyes—once analytical—now seem to pierce through you. There’s something terrifyingly calm about the way she looks at you, as if she’s deciding how much of a reaction you’re worth.

Before you can stammer out more apologies, your boss’s voice cuts through the air. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he shouts, his anger exploding. “How can you be so clumsy? A client of this caliber, and you do this?! I should fire you right now!”

The embarrassment spreads through you like the coffee on her blouse. Your eyes well up as you try to explain, but the words won’t come. All you can do is look at the woman, hoping she’ll say something—anything.

She, however, doesn’t even glance at your boss. Her eyes remain fixed on you, as if he doesn’t exist. Finally, she breaks the silence with a low, sharp voice: “That really isn’t necessary.”

Your boss stammers, surprised. “But, ma’am, she—” He doesn’t finish the sentence. Her gaze silences him, and for the first time, you see a man who thrives on authority shrink back.

You try to catch your breath, your face burning with shame. With a thread of courage, you murmur, “Please, come with me. I—I can fix this.” Your voice falters, but there’s something in your insistence that makes her tilt her head slightly, as if weighing your determination before nodding.

In the restroom, the silence between you is heavy but not empty. You grab the spare blouse you always carry and try to gather your thoughts, but when you turn around, the air seems to leave your lungs.

The woman unbuttons her blazer with precise movements, and when she removes the stained shirt, she reveals a black silk blouse so delicate that the light highlights the curves of her collarbone and the edges of her lace bra.

Your gaze involuntarily drifts to her shoulder, where the skin reddened by the coffee looks almost fragile. The sight is intimate in a way you weren’t prepared for, and your face burns.

“I... I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have...” you begin, but your voice falters. Your mind is torn between the embarrassment of the accident and the hypnotic presence of her, which seems to fill the small space of the restroom.

“Do you always get this nervous?” Her question is unexpected, her voice low and laden with something you can’t decipher. It’s almost a challenge, a test, and her gaze remains fixed on you, as if expecting more than a simple answer.

“I... I don’t know. Maybe?” You look away, shrinking slightly as you hand her the clean blouse. It’s cheap fabric but carries the faint scent of your homemade perfume. When her fingers brush against yours as she takes it, a shiver runs down your skin, quick and unexpected.

She puts on the blouse slowly, unhurried, and her words follow like an echo: “You shouldn’t apologize so much. Especially when you don’t know what for.” The statement is intriguing, almost disconcerting. Your heart races, as if you’ve just stumbled upon something you don’t fully understand.

Before she leaves, you blurt out, the words tumbling out in one breath: “Please... let me wash your blouse. I want... I need to make it up to you.”

She pauses at the door and turns, her eyes locking onto yours once more. There’s something different now, a genuine interest, almost calculated.

Without a word, she pulls a black card from her pocket, elegant and scented with a faint woody aroma. “When it’s ready, come to this address.” Her voice is low but layered with meaning you can’t interpret.

She leaves before you can respond, her posture impeccable and her steps controlled, as if every movement were rehearsed. You’re left alone in the restroom, holding the card that feels heavier than it should.

Rio Vidal.

The name echoes in your mind. A short, strong name, as enigmatic as she is. And for some reason you can’t explain, you feel like you’ve just opened a door to something that will change your life in ways even the worst coffee spills couldn’t predict.

A few minutes later, you gather enough courage to leave the restroom. Your heart is still pounding in your chest, as if trying to remind you of the disaster that just happened.

You find your boss standing near the counter, wearing the same disdainful look that always makes your skin crawl. But something is different today. He doesn’t explode into shouts as you expected.

“Rio Vidal. The Rio Vidal—” He crosses his arms and sighs, as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say, “—said it was fine. And she was very clear that you shouldn’t be punished.”

You blink, confused. The black card in your hand feels heavier now. Why would she do that? Was it pity? Some kind of veiled charity because of your desperation? Or... something more?

The woody scent of the card wafts up to you, a tangible reminder of the woman who, even with coffee spilled on her expensive blouse, had remained impassive and enigmatic.

“Get back to work before I change my mind,” your boss grumbles, but his tone has lost its usual edge. You don’t argue, just tuck the card into your pocket, still feeling every embossed letter like a secret waiting to be unraveled.

[...]

You practically run to the university. Your legs ache, but it doesn’t matter because today is important. When you finally reach the worn-down building that houses the film department, you can barely catch your breath. The room is packed with anxious students, and excited whispers fill the air.

“You’re almost late!” Darcy whispers, pushing a notebook aside to make room for you. Her eyes are wide, nervous. “Agatha Harkness is already here.”

Her name makes your heart race, in a completely different way from the panic you felt before.

Agatha Harkness.

The legend. The queen. The woman who made actors cry on set and screenwriters question if they were good enough to write even a single line of dialogue. She was a monster… but undeniably a genius. Everything that came from her hands was masterful, and you secretly harbored an absurd admiration for her.

Peter, sitting in front of you, whispers to Darcy, “Do you think she’s going to rip someone’s heart out today? She did that the last time she visited a university…”

Darcy, next to him, makes a face. “On the first day?”

“Without a doubt,” Peter replies, shrugging.

Before you can respond, the door swings open. The sound of her heels is the first thing that fills the sudden silence. And then she enters.

Agatha is everything you imagined and more. Tall, dressed in an impeccable purple suit that seems to radiate authority, with a smile that borders on cruel and eyes that scan the room as if evaluating every soul present. Her presence is a punch to the stomach, yet at the same time, something in you feels magnetized by her. It’s impossible to look away.

She wastes no time with warm introductions. Instead, she tosses a stack of papers onto the desk and begins speaking. Her voice is deep, firm, and filled with an intensity that makes the air feel heavier.

“Writing is an act of courage. And from what I’ve heard, many of you have been content with mediocrity.”

The students exchange nervous glances. Darcy practically sinks into her chair beside you. You, on the other hand, feel your heart race even more. There’s something hypnotic about the way she speaks, as if every word is carefully sharpened to cut.

“Now, here’s what you’re going to do.” Agatha steps up to the blackboard and writes something with an elegant pen. “Write a scene. Any scene. But make it something worth reading. Because if I think you’re wasting my time…” She lifts her gaze, and the silence that follows is more threatening than any word. “—your nonexistent careers won’t even start.”

Agatha picks up the first stack of papers and starts reading in silence, her eyes moving rapidly from side to side. The room is absolutely silent, so quiet that the sound of students breathing feels deafening.

After a few seconds, she lets out an almost exasperated sigh and lifts a paper, holding it up as if it were evidence of a terrible crime.

“Who wrote this?”

A girl in the back of the room timidly raises her hand, almost regretting existing.

Agatha narrows her eyes at the paper, then at the girl. “Is this a love story?”

The girl shakes her head, mumbling something about the plot being deeper than it seemed.

“No. It’s not.” Agatha cuts in, her voice as cold as steel. “This is a cheap fanfic disguised as a script. Characters with no substance, dialogues recycled from a teen drama. Where is the humanity? Where is the real conflict? This isn’t writing. This is a murder of art.”

The girl seems to shrink into her seat.

Agatha tosses the paper onto the desk and picks up the next one. This time, she doesn’t read for long before looking up. “Who thinks it’s acceptable to start a scene with ‘Once upon a time’ in an academic assignment? Are you trying to sell an idea or put a child to sleep?”

A boy in the front row tries to justify his choice, but Agatha raises a hand, cutting him off.

“I’m not here to hear excuses. I’m here to see talent. And so far, I’ve seen nothing worth my time.”

The silence in the room is palpable. You see Darcy whisper something to Peter, probably something like “Yeah, definitely heartless,” but you can’t focus. Your own script is in your hands, and the weight of the paper feels like lead.

Finally, your turn comes. With trembling hands, you hand the sheet to Agatha Harkness, feeling as if you’re handing over a piece of yourself. She takes the paper with an almost deliberate calm, and for a moment, you’re sure she’s going to toss it onto the “failures” pile without even looking.

But then, something in the title seems to catch her attention. Her eyes, previously indifferent, narrow slightly, and she begins to read.

Seconds turn into eternities as you watch her. The room around you fades away; all you can hear is the sound of your own heart pounding against your ribs. Your mind drifts back, inevitably, to the moment you wrote those words—the weight of the story, the piece of your soul you decided to share.

Agatha turns the page. Once, then again. Her silence is like a knife. You don’t know if this is good or bad.

When she finally finishes, she places the paper on the desk. Unlike the others, she doesn’t discard it immediately, but she also doesn’t show approval. Her eyes lock onto you, assessing, and there’s something new in her expression: a trace of curiosity.

“Interesting.” Her tone is neutral, but there’s something hidden in it—a hint of intrigue, perhaps? She leans forward slightly, crossing her arms. “Are you trying to tell a personal story?”

Your face burns instantly, and you feel the weight of all the eyes around you. Still, you find the strength to nod in confirmation, even as shame nearly swallows you whole.

“Hmm.” Agatha raises an eyebrow, pressing her lips into a thoughtful line. “You have no technique. No structure. The writing is messy, almost amateurish.”

Her words cut deep, and you bite your lip hard to keep the bile from rising in your throat.

“But…” She pauses, looking at the paper with unsettling intensity. “You have—” then, she focuses on you, and seeing those ocean-blue eyes so close makes your body tremble. “—something.”

Her choice of words is as vague as it is provocative, and you feel the weight of that “something” hanging in the air between you. She narrows her eyes, as if trying to figure out exactly what it was in the text that caught her—or in you.

“Stay after the bell rings.”

Her voice is final, like a sentence, but there’s no hostility. She dismisses you with a slight wave of her hand, and you feel a mixture of relief and anxiety as you return to your seat.

While the others hand in their scripts, you remain restless, trying to decipher Agatha’s expression and the reason behind her words. What in your text could have caught her attention? The room around you is filled with muffled murmurs, but in your mind, it’s as if you’re trapped in a storm.

As soon as the bell rings, only three people remain in the room besides you. The silence is dense, heavy with expectation, as Agatha moves with the same deliberate calm as before.

Of course, she already knows exactly what she’s doing. This special, hand-picked mentorship was clearly a strategy to appear more "kind" to the public, even though, so far, there had been nothing friendly about her approach.

You watch as she begins the individual feedbacks, calling Darcy first. The girl in front of you seems to be caught between hope and terror but agrees to step forward. As Agatha starts speaking to her, you try to distract yourself, but you can’t stop your eyes from wandering back to the director.

She is... magnetic. Even as she crushes Darcy’s creative dreams with precise, cutting words, there’s something about her that simply demands attention. And then it happens.

For a moment—or perhaps for all eternity—her blue eyes meet yours.

Your throat goes dry instantly. It’s impossible to interpret what’s in that gaze, but it hits you hard. Curiosity? Judgment? Or something else? You try to look away, but it’s as if you’re trapped. She stares at you for only a few seconds before returning to her conversation with Darcy, as if nothing had happened. But you know it did.

Your heart pounds so loudly it feels like it echoes in the empty room. Nervousness is consuming you, but there’s something else, a sensation you weren’t expecting. A tightness in your stomach.

Desire? Nervousness? Anxiety?

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to take a deep breath and organize your thoughts, but it only makes things worse. It feels like she has pulled a piece of the air around you away with just that look.

Time moves slowly. Agatha finishes Darcy’s feedback, moving on to the next student. And then, when your turn finally comes, you don’t know if you’re ready—or if you ever would be.

She calls your name firmly, and you stand up. Your legs feel weak as you walk toward her, carrying the weight of her expectation and your own desire to impress her.

“So,” she begins, crossing her arms, her sharp gaze settling on you. “Let’s talk about what you wrote.”

As soon as you sit before her, Agatha picks up your sheet of paper, holding it carefully, as if she were carrying something precious—or something dangerous. She doesn’t say anything right away, just fixes her eyes on the text for a few seconds before beginning to read again, this time out loud:

"One day, I had a dream about my mother. She was married to the man she truly loved, and without children. There, I had never seen her so happy."

Her voice is deep, but it carries a softness you didn’t expect. It’s as if she’s savoring each word, analyzing every nuance.

When she finishes, Agatha places the paper on the table with a controlled gesture and looks directly at you. The silence that follows seems to last an eternity.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of that gaze, as if she could see every secret you tried to hide.

“Is your mother the main character here?” The question is direct, blunt—like everything about her.

You feel your face heat up, looking away. “I... maybe?” you murmur, the words hesitant.

“No need to lie,” she interrupts, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. “The text screams it. Every line, every word choice… it’s as if you were exorcizing a ghost. Tell me, is that what you tried to do? Exorcize the guilt of loving and hating at the same time?”

The brutality of the question leaves you speechless. You shift in your chair, uncomfortable, but she doesn’t seem inclined to ease the tension.

“Did she leave you?” Agatha presses, her eyes locked onto yours, as if she could pull the truth out of you by force.

You hesitate but finally let out a shaky sigh. “Yes.”

For a moment, her face seems to change. Something in her gaze softens, but only for a fraction of a second before she composes herself again.

“And yet, you chose not to hate her.” She tilts her head, as if studying a particularly intriguing piece of art. “That is… rare.”

“I think that… she did what she thought was best for her,” you reply, your voice almost a whisper. “I don’t blame her for seeking happiness, even if it hurt me.”

Agatha remains silent for a few moments, as if processing something. There was something in the text—or maybe in the way you spoke—that seemed to touch an old wound in her. A shadow passes over her face, but she quickly pushes it away, replacing it with a neutral expression.

“You have talent,” she declares, breaking the silence. “Still raw, but it’s genuine. And, more importantly, you have courage. The kind of courage I’m looking for.”

You blink, confused. “Looking for?”

Agatha leans forward, her eyes gleaming with dangerous intensity. “I’m assembling a team for my next project. I need minds that think like yours—that see beyond the surface and aren’t afraid to explore the shadows. Would you be interested?”

Your heart races. Working with Agatha Harkness? The woman you admired, even feared? It was more than you could have imagined, but the answer was obvious.

“Yes,” you respond quickly, barely able to contain the excitement in your voice.

Agatha smiles, and the gesture is as enigmatic as the rest of her. “Good. Get ready, little gem. I’m going to shape you piece by piece," The way she spoke was hypnotic, pulling you in. “and it will be… painful.”

As soon as you answer affirmatively, Agatha pulls something from the pocket of her purple blazer: a business card. It’s blue, with purple lettering in an elegant cursive font. The floral scent of the paper fills the air as she slides the card across the table toward you.

“Come to this address tomorrow,” she says, her voice firm but low, as if each word were chosen with care. “Seven at night. And don’t be late.”

You take the card with trembling fingers, its weight feeling heavier than it should. The moment you touch it, a wave of déjà vu washes over you. The texture, the scent, even the sophistication of the design remind you of the card Rio gave you earlier.

Two women so different, and yet… so similar. Both had a presence that seemed to capture the room, leaving you breathless. Both seemed to see through you, as if they could decipher your deepest thoughts with a single look.

You feel your heart speed up, confusion mixing with excitement. Why had these women, so powerful and enigmatic, captivated you so much? Rio had left something in you—a sense of unresolved mystery. Now, Agatha was doing the same, but in an even more intense way.

“Something wrong?” Agatha’s voice cuts through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present.

“N-no,” you reply quickly, slipping the card into your backpack. “I’ll be there.”

She only tilts her head, her eyes lingering on you for a moment before turning and leaving the room. Her silhouette disappears through the door, but the weight of her presence still lingers—heavy, inescapable.

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, a single question echoes in your mind: What the hell were you getting yourself into?

And more importantly, why couldn’t you stop feeling excited about it?

~*~

Y/n... How lucky you are, huh?

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[vmpivory]

'cause you're just jealous and possessive.

Ⳋ୧ . heeseung ☆ f!reader / angst(?) + cw. tbh idk, nothing + 0.3k wc + now playing.. toxic till the end by rosé ── ( masterlist! )

you'd driven this route countless times, but tonight, it felt different. you glanced at the rearview mirror, your own tired eyes staring back at you.

then you saw him. lee heeseung. his thumb raised and his bike that you could recognize easily, on the ground. you slowed the car, the screech of tires on the pavement slicing through the quiet night.

you shouldn't have. you shouldn't have stopped there, shouldn't have helped him go home, shouldn't have let that asshole and his broken bike in your car. but you did. ─ more under cut!

"need help?" you asked, rolling down the window just enough to let your voice escape but not enough to make it easy for him to see you fully. you were a mess, well, at least you thought so. but why should you cared anyways?

"yeah" he leaned down slightly, looking through the small gap in the window. "my bike's broken, and my phone's dead. can you give me a ride home?"

you hesitated. you wanted to keep driving, to leave him and his stupid bike. but you found yourself unlocking the door for him. "get in before i change my mind"

heeseung gave a faint smile, slid the bike into the passenger seat and settled in to cars front seat.

“what’s your address?” you didn't know why you asked that. you knew where he lived, you've been there a million times. he explained a location you recognized. you let out a quiet sigh, nodding as if you had a choice.

after a while you started driving, he tapped his fingers lightly against the window frame. “thanks,” he muttered after a while. when you didn't say anything back, he sighed and continued, "still mad at me, huh?"   "what did you think? of course i am dumbass!" he didn't respond after that. maybe it was the way you called him 'dumbass' or that he couldn't come up with a sarcastic response. "you know," heeseung said, breaking the silence "i didn't meant things to end with that and get so-" "please just.. don't." you were too tired to deal with this again. it was always the same conversation again. "i don't want to hear it. i don't need your excuses. i've listened to the same story over and over again and i'm tired of it. admit it, hee, you're just jealous. possessive. and honestly, i'm impressed at how long you've kept it up." "you called me hee."  "shut up, i meant heeseung."

.vmpivory    ©    all rights reserved    ━    2025

AHHH FIRST FIC OF 2025!!! actually i wrote this so long ago but didnt have time to proofread and stuff lol. anyways enjoy <333

TAGLiST: @woniesprincess @orimuraa @heeaara

[sweetenerobert]

make you mine

8.1k | sister’s ex boyfriend tommy miller x male reader

summary: the intense feelings you've swallowed down for your sister's boyfriend are shown when he's comes back to pick up the rest of his things

warnings: MDNI 18+, mentions of abuse, pet names (bunny, baby, sweetheart, etc.), friends to lovers tommy, no mention of age besides your sister is older, and so is tommy, no description of reader, but tommy lifts you (2), rimming, oral (m!giving/m!giving) yearning for each other, spit as lube, unprotected p in a, spanking, cocky!tommy, tommy's dick is fucking HUGE AF

a/n: I'M BAAAAAACK!! UGH GOD, i missed this app so much, after countless attempts of writing, i finally have an idea im sooooo excited to share with you. i promise i wont leave again (hopefully), i have a lot of ideas i've written and i need to finally find the time to write so you guys can finally read soon, but for now, i hope you enjoy 'make you mine'!

a/n 2: also a huge thanks to @sofmoth, @king-simp, @pedgito, @perotovar, and @strang3lov3 for beta reading, love uuuuuu sooooo much.

a/n 3: just wanted to say @king-simp for putting up with me for like months and hearing my ideas days after days, and hearing me out so many times on ideas, and making them soooo much better than what I thought. Love you girlllll 🤍🤍

dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Oh shit, It’s so inappropriate how bad I’ve wanted to do this to you, bunny.”

You were shocked by Tommy’s sudden confession; you raised your head at the man fingering you with beads of sweat on your forehead. “What?” You whimper. Rays of sunlight kept dancing through your eyes as you were washing the dishes, home alone, and making sure your parents didn't have something to complain about, and your sister couldn’t find the special dish she took to work. It caused that feeling of chills crawling down your spine thinking about it. Your family wasn’t intense; they just worked a lot and were under a lot of stress at times; you wish you could say the same about your sister; the times you’ve quietly excited a room from her intensity, you wouldn’t be able to count them on one hand.

Speaking of family, you heard your doorbell go off as you hung the last dish on the dish strainer, turning off the water, thinking your sister or one of your parents was coming home early and forgot their keys, you shook your hands in the sink, noticing how pruney your hands looked, grabbing a paper towel nearby, and wiping your hands, quickly throwing away the wet paper towel into the nearby garbage can. The doorbell went off again as you began walking towards the door. “I’m coming, jeez,” You start as you grab the doorknob and turn it. “Forgot your keys again?” You pull the door towards you as you expect your sister to be on the other side to answer your question.

But you had been met with a familiar sight of shoulder-length hair, a mustache that could make a grown man cry, a denim button-up shirt hanging on broad shoulders, and you swore your sister loathed the material of his shirt. Tommy Miller was on the other side of your front door. Your sister and Tommy had dated for about a year and five months. He and your sister weren’t the on-and-off type, but there were times when you could hear them arguing, and you felt terrible for Tommy for having to face your sister’s wrath. “Oh, hey, Tommy.”

“Oh, hey, bunny,” Tommy’s southern accent felt rich, and a light chuckle escaped his mouth. You chuckle as you rest your fingers against your forehead. “You know I hate that nickname,” You commented. Tommy chuckles again before he opens his mouth to speak. “It’s not my fault you're obsessed with that one character with long ears who looks like a bunny.” Tommy crossed his arms, angling his eyes towards you. “He’s a puppy,” You commented, staring at him

“I’m still calling you bunny.”

You and Tommy chuckle together as you enjoy each other’s company; a thought passes. Your sister didn’t say anything about Tommy dropping by. Now that you think of it, no one has mentioned Tommy’s name since you returned from your trip. You replicated the same action as Tommy and leaned yourself against the door. “Not to burst your bubble, my sister isn’t here,” You shrugged.

Tommy nodded, glanced at the floor, and then back at you. “Yeah, I know,” he started. “Oh,” You were shocked, to say the least. Then why was he here? “Are you guys moving in together or something?” You shrugged. “She and my parents haven’t said anything since I got back,” You added. “Your trip, that’s right,” Tommy spoke, shoving his hands into his pockets. “How was that?”

You and your best friend had decided to stay in New York for a week, the vacation the both of you desperately needed and craved. When you came back, in your eyes, it was as if nothing changed. “Fun needed a break from life,” You joked. “Felt that,” Tommy huffed a chuckle.

You smiled and nodded. “But, did something happen?” You shrugged, confused. “It’s like your name is a curse or something.”

“Ah, bunny,” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, squinting his eyes towards you. It’s complicated; maybe you should ask your sister.” You could tell Tommy wasn’t trying to add more fire to whatever drama occurred when you were gone. Being the nonconfrontational type, you appreciated Tommy for keeping whatever secret to himself, but you already knew asking your family would be a bust. He would be the next best thing. “Can I come in?”

“Not unless you tell me what’s happening,” You shrugged. Tommy huffed a breath, not in a moment of frustration or loss of patience; it was a breath and finding the words to come up with ways to come clean about something he’s been terrified of you finding out differently. “We broke up,” Tommy announced. You blinked your eyes into a shocked look; of all the things you were trying to mentally prepare yourself to hear, him and your sister breaking up wasn’t something that you wouldn’t think would happen.

Yes, the duo wasn’t perfect together, but you always thought they would make it work. Without a thought, you moved yourself away from the door to give Tommy enough space to walk in. As he walked in, Tommy nodded and smirked at you; you felt a breeze hit your legs as he moved past you. Glancing down at your legs, you noticed you opened the door in your underwear. “Fuck me,” You muttered to yourself; you closed the front door, locking it as a habit, and walked towards where you knew Tommy was going.

You pushed your sister’s bedroom door open and spotted Tommy in your sister’s closet, getting his clothes from their hangers and placing them on her bed. “Wait, you guys broke up?” You questioned, closing her bedroom door behind you. “Yep,” Tommy nodded, looking into the closet.

“What, why, what happened?”

Tommy glanced towards you as he saw your face riddled with confusion. He drew his lips in a thin line, exhaled through his nose, and made his way towards to stand in front of you, crossing his arms, huffing his chest towards you, the material of his denim shirt bending around his biceps. “Do you know why I would often ask you to go out and drink, and I labeled you as my “drinkin’ buddy”?” Tommy questioned.

“I just thought it was you being nice, you know, making sure your girlfriend’s brother didn’t feel left out,” You shrugged.

“Not entirely,” Tommy started, sitting on the edge of his ex-girlfriend's bed. “Your sister ain’t the best type to drink with, unlike you. She can tend to overdrink, which we’ve argued about multiple times. There have been a couple of times where she’s tried to get physical with me, trying to limit her drinking habit.”

The thought of your sister being physical sent a shiver down your spine, hearing someone else say the words. You swallowed harshly and nodded your head for Tommy to continue. “A week ago, when you were out and so were your folks, I told her that we aren’t good together, and she flipped out on me, cursing at me, screaming at me, she even clawed at me.”

Shocked wouldn’t be the word expressed on your face; bewilderment would be. “What? Where?” You questioned, you asked, sitting on the left of him. Tommy used his left hand to pull his collar down to show you three scarred-up claw marks on where his left collarbone rested. “Oh, my god, Tommy. I’m sorry.’

“It ain't your fault, bunny. You ain’t do nothing,” Tommy waved off as he let go of his collar. “Exactly, I didn’t say anything, I should’ve–”

“There was nothin’ you could’ve done,” Tommy placed a hand on your back. “You’re a good person already; that’s all I wanted.” You sighed in defeat while Tommy continued to soothe you, rubbing your back. “It’s going to be weird not seeing you here.”

“Ah,” Tommy waved off, removing his hand from your back and slapping it against his jeans. “You still have my number? You can always crash at my place if you ever want to escape this house of horrors.” You chuckled at Tommy’s invitation and shook your head, contemplating the option. “I’ll hold you to that,” you pointed at the man beside you. He laughed, and you joined him. It seemed like something that fate had landed on your lap.

You felt the mattress shift lightly as Tommy leaned towards you. “You know you’re in your underwear, right, bunny?”

“Yeah, I know,” You hide your face in your hands to hide your embarrassment. “It’s fine,” Tommy slapped his hand on your bare thigh and then laced his hand with his own. For the split second, Tommy’s hand was on your thigh; his hand felt warm against your skin, sending a jolt of electricity toward your spine. “You’ve seen me in mine, so we’re even.” Tommy acknowledged, and you nodded in agreement. “Unfortunately or fortunately, I have.”

“What do you mean, unfortunately?” Tommy playfully shoves you. You laugh as you regain your balance next to him. “I mean, not to make you uncomfortable, but you do have an amazing body,” Your chuckles slip out from time to time.

“Amazin’ body, huh?” Tommy teased, leaning his head towards yours. “With your sister’s scratches, It’ll take a while before I’m back to “amazing body” status.”

“Hey, scratches or not, you still look good,” You commented.

“Oh, really?” Tommy questioned, playfully pushing his shoulder with yours. “Yeah,” You nodded.

“You ain’t so bad yourself,” Tommy spoke, placing his hand on your thigh again, but this time, he didn’t let go; the warmth of his hand had been caked onto your skin. You balled your hand into a fist behind Tommy. The feeling felt nice, but it felt different from the cold breeze that kept rubbing against your other leg. “Is this alright?” Tommy asked. Looking up towards the southern man, you nodded your head, and Tommy’s hand rose.

You shuddered lightly as Tommy’s hand got closer to your cock, his thumb pressing onto the tip of your cock, making your toes curl. “You like that?” Tommy softly spoke into your ear. “Mhm, yeah,” You nodded. “How about this?” Tommy slipped his hand further as he began cupping the bulge in your underwear. You inhaled deeply, puffing your chest, and your hands gripped the sheets of your sister’s bed. Pushing out an exhale, Tommy chuckled as he saw your cock throbbing underneath his hand. “Look at you, bunny, twitchin’ under my hand,”

“We–.” You swallowed sharply. “We– we shouldn’t–”

“We shouldn’t be doin’ this?” Tommy questioned; his hand started to come off your cock before you began to speak. “We shouldn’t be doing this in my sister’s room,” You nodded, looking at him. Tommy huffed a smile as he took you and made you straddle his lap; you laughed as you placed your hand on the side of his neck, his forehead rested against yours; you could see the smile radiating off him, something you seemed to have only seen when he’s around you.

Tommy’s hands rested on your waist before he slipped them onto your ass and then rested under your thighs. “Is it inappropriate to say that I’ve probably dreamt of this moment before?”

You smile before you answer. “That you wanted be close to your sister’s brother?”

Tommy huffs a smile before pressing his nose lightly against yours. “That I would be happy with someone like you.” Your hands trail up against his cheeks, your thumbs trailing his cheeks as he smiles at you. “You have such cute freckles.”

Tommy laughs at your compliment. “No, seriously, they suit you a little too well,” You smile as Tommy dips his head below, his lips centimeters away from yours. Almost as if he were playing with you, backing his head up ever so slightly just to put them back centimeters away. “You are such a cat,” You announce.

“Oh, you love it.” Tommy stood up, and your legs stopped bending into the mattress and just rested against the sides of his hips while his hands rested in the bends of your knees; you smiled and rested your arms onto his shoulders; it wasn’t until Tommy collided your back with your sister’s bedroom door was when he connected his lips against yours. Tommy didn’t hold back when he kissed you, his hands digging into the skin of your thighs as one of your hands rested on the nape of his neck. You felt his tongue connected with yours, making the kiss feel more passionate. His lips felt soft while his mustache on your upper lip felt coarse, the opposite sensations putting your body into overdrive. You knew in this very moment that this is something you’ve wanted to happen for so long, the number of drunk thoughts you would have about Tommy turning sexually, that you wanted something to happen with your drunk friend like it had been a scene from your favorite fanfiction or something, but you knew it was wrong because of your sister.

But you didn’t care about how she felt then; you wanted Tommy, you have Tommy, now you don’t want him to go away. “Fuck, you taste good, bunny,” Tommy breathed as he grinded his pelvis into yours; you moaned into Tommy’s mouth, while he grunted into yours. “I can’t get enough of you,” Tommy grunted. One of his hands slipped from the bend of your knee, reaching for the doorknob, backing your body away from the door, opening it, and walking towards your bedroom. Still kissing each other, Tommy readjusted his hand back and continued to walk towards your room.

Pushing the door open with your back, Tommy rushed into your room and placed you on the edge of your dresser. You gasped when one of Tommy’s hands slipped onto your waist, and the other slipped under your shirt. His soft but calloused hand was warm against your stomach as he latched his lips onto yours. Your hands reached to cup his face as you leaned down to deepen the kiss.

Kissing Tommy felt like the sensation of finding gold for the first time, exciting. A sensation you didn’t want to let go of when your hands slipped into his hair, and you lightly gripped his hair. You understood that Tommy felt the same way when the grip on your waist and your bare stomach grew tighter. With each smooch, Tommy breathed heavily against your lips, feeling the texture of your soft lips against his; he never felt more present in the moment.

Slipping your hands onto his broad shoulders, you were eager to feel more of Tommy. You slip your hands down even more and feel down his chest; his pec feels like a handful against your hand. Tommy chuckles and smiles against your lips. “Eager, ain’t we?” The southern questions. “Shut up,” You smiled as you raised your hands on the buttons of his shirt.

You or he didn't break the kiss with each button you popped off Tommy’s shirt, not even when Tommy tossed the denim shirt aside. He just wanted to keep on tasting you.

It took a lot to be the one to break the kiss after what felt like minutes of your lips dancing around each other. Tommy’s hand moved from your stomach to the sides of your thighs. “Somethin’ wrong, bunny?”

“No, I’ve just wanted this moment for so long, is that fucked up?”

Tommy shook his head and rested your forehead against his as you bent your head down and took your hands in his. “A little,” Tommy started. You groaned into your hands, and then Tommy caused you to look at him while he took your hand in his. “But, that’s what I like about you,”

“You're funny, spontaneous as hell, and sweet, geez, I couldn’t have met someone better than you, bunny,” Tommy reached for your cheek, cupping your face into his palm, rubbing your cheek. You smile as you go for Tommy’s hand, rubbing your thumb against his knuckle. “Do you think we could move to the bed?” You questioned. A raised eyebrow came from Tommy Miller's face; he chuckled before licking his lips. “Eager, are we, bunny?”

“Yes, but my butt is getting so sore, sitting on the edge of this thing,” You winced and laughed before Tommy took his hands and put them back on your waist. “But I haven’t even done anythin’, baby.” You give a look, Tommy, and the man chuckled while you wrapped your legs around his waist again, and he rested your back against your mattress, kissing you once again while crawling in between your thighs.

You felt Tommy grind his hips into yours, feeling his bulge underneath the denim against your cloth-covered cock. Tommy’s lips trailed down from your lips down to your jaw. With every time Tommy grinded into you, a moan escaped your lips, and you could feel a smile from Tommy against the tender skin of your neck.

Sliding your shirt up and planting kisses trailing from your chest to your navel. Tommy’s thick fingers grab the waistband of your underwear as he slides them down. “Lift your hips, bunny.” You do as Tommy orders; he slides your underwear off your thighs and disregards them aside, looking down between your bodies and chuckling at the sight he was seeing your hard cock twitch against the bulge in his jeans. Tommy wanted to see something, so he slowly grinded your bare cock, and you lightly squirmed at the sensation. Hearing you shudder, Tommy smirks at you and lightly picks up the pace.

“Fuck, baby, you like that?”

“Yeah,” You nodded.

“Fuck yeah, I love it when you squirm for me.”

As Tommy begins to stand up, you breathe in relief as if any more times he were to grind against your cock, you would’ve exploded. Tommy pulls you towards the edge of the mattress, and you are surprised at the sudden action. “Look a’that, y’hard f’me already, baby?” You huff a chuckle at Tommy; you gasp as you feel his lips press the tip of your hard-covered cock. With each kiss brought against the tip and the shaft of your cock, it feels like heaven to you, bringing you absolute bliss against your skin. You get your foot against Tommy’s bare shoulder as your other one hangs off the edge of the bed, arching your back in pleasure as Tommy’s mouth moves down your thigh.

“God, you’re s’fuckin’ perfect, baby.” Standing up from his position, Tommy softly presses his lips against yours, bringing his hand into the bend of your knee, his other hand holding the side of your face. Tommy's tongue licked your bottom lip, awaiting your mouth to open. Tommy slips his tongue into your mouth, slightly parting your lips, causing you to smile at Tommy’s eagerness.

“How do you feel?” Tommy questions against your lips.

“Good, so good.” You breathed. “How about I make you feel even fuckin’ great.” Tommy’s question came out as a statement, causing you to question his meaning. Without warning, Tommy backs up from your face and laps his tongue on the all too sensitive head of your cock, making a moan escape from your mouth, your toes curl, and your eyes roll in the back of your head, sliding his tongue against the slit of your cock, moans escaping your mouth. “F-fuck, Tommy,” You breathe.

“Y’like that, baby?”

You breathe out an answer as Tommy starts to slowly stroke your cock as he rests himself on one knee on the ground next to the bed frame. “Yes, so fucking much.” You arch your back as the pleasure sets in. You never knew this level of intensity until Tommy; he knew what would make you tick without even having any sexual experience with you in the past, everything you imagined about what the southern would do to you if things had gone a complete 180 after your hangouts, but now the reality is kicking your imagination out of the park.

Wrapping his mouth slowly around the tip of your cock, Tommy slowly goes down the shaft of your length, causing you to moan and white knuckle your sheets as you throw your head back — arching your back and snapping your eyes shut in pleasure. “OH, fuck!” You exclaim in pleasure. His pace was slow but patient. Tommy wanted to make you feel something you rarely experienced — something once in a blue moon. Wrapping his hands around the shaft of your cock, his fingers would let go for a moment before wrapping.

Dragging your fingers into Tommy’s curls, you slowly push his head down, hoping he could speed up. “Fuck, Tommy. This feels amazing,” You breathed.

“Can you go faster, please?” Your question sounded like a plea.

“Oh, sweetheart. I can show ya one better.”

As Tommy’s mouth felt warm around your cock, he started to go faster as you gasped in pleasure, you gripping the material of your sheets; you felt Tommy’s hand slide from your thigh as he slowly began to tease your hole. The skin of your taint felt sensitive with each stroke of Tommy’s finger teasing you; each swipe, each light poke, and prodding made your body shiver in anticipation. You had been put into overdrive because of your older sister’s ex-boyfriend. Tommy was slowly rising you towards your peak. Your cock twitches in Tommy’s mouth showing the throbbing pain that was threatening to shoot out. Slowly and teasing, Tommy slides his mouth off your cock, swallowing the spit that had collected in his mouth; Tommy wipes the reminder off his lips with the back of his hand, glances at you, and chuckles as he strokes your cock. “Y’close, baby?”

“Yes,” You whimper. “So fuckin’ close. It hurts so much. Can I cum yet, Tommy?”

A sly smirk appeared as he started to chuckle – staring at you. Tommy stops pumping your cock — landing on your stomach, precum leaking from the slit. “Not yet, bunny. We ain’t done yet.”

Lifting your legs, Tommy slides his head down deeper in between your thighs. He laps his tongue against your aching hole; you bite your lip, causing a shaky moan to escape your lips as you hold your legs up so Tommy can get better access to your hole. His hands are planted on your inner thighs as he keeps his tongue against your taint. Tommy’s tongue felt like magic against you, showing you things you’ve never felt before — things you’ve only imagined happening. His tongue sliding up and down, in and out of your hole, made you want to cum by how much Tommy has been treating you.

The sensation of soft lips and a coarse mustache planting kisses against your taint made your toes curl — the bones threatening to pop out, your nails digging into the skin of your thighs, your moans escaping from you with each movement of the mix of feelings from Tommy’s lips and tongue was giving you pleasure.

A new feeling appeared when you felt something being pushed inside you, causing a moan to rush out of you as you let go of one of your thighs, started gripping the sheets below you, and threatened to rip them up. You look down at Tommy, plump cheeks looking up at you with a smirk on his face; you notice what is being pushed inside you; Tommy’s thick middle finger has taken a turn to please you.

“Y’like that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Oh fuck, yeah, I do,” You whimper, throwing your head back, closing your eyes, and moaning with each pump of Tommy’s finger.

“I said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Tommy spoke as he slid another finger into you. You exclaimed in pleasure. “You make me happy, bunny. You always have been the one to make me.” The man huffed a smile towards you, and you reciprocated a smile back towards Tommy before you rested your head on the mattress. “Fuck, my sister is so fucking stupid for letting you go,” You breathed as you withered in pleasure. Tommy chuckled at your statement. “Good thing I finally have the better sibling,” Tommy grunted. You laughed, and then the laugh turned into a moan.

Sliding a third finger in, Tommy’s pace had gone faster. You knew he was trying to test your limits; it would be an adventure for both of you to find it. “Look at how your hole wraps around m’fingers; it keeps sucking me in no matter how hard I try to pull out, baby.”

The sudden movements from your hips as you kept raising your hips and bringing them back down. Gritting your teeth, and tiny whimpers leaking through your teeth. Pleasure flowed throughout your body — something you yearned for Tommy to reach with you.

Tommy would admit this if you asked, and close to you sent him over the moon. He’s probably thought about this once or twice, but he loves that he can finally get this close to you.

“Tommy?” You breathed.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can I suck your cock?”

Tommy had never heard that question from your sister; she always wanted things her way, so Tommy hasn’t been pleased in that regard. So, hearing your question surprised him a little bit. Slipping his fingers outside your hole, aching for how you would feel around his cock, Tommy smirks at you, stands up, and opens his mouth to speak. “Yes, you can, bunny.” As you sit up and sit on the edge of your mattress, you notice the length that resided in his jeans. You blinked as you saw the bulge filling his jeans.

Noticing the look in your eyes as he was cupping the growing length in his jeans as he smirked and smiled at you, Tommy looked at you. “I gotta ask, sweetheart, how long have you been wantin'’’ to suck my cock?” You swallowed before you provided an answer. “For so long,” You glanced at Tommy.

Tommy's sly smirk appeared before he bent his head down to get closer to your ear. “Then I best not keep you waitin’.” His whisper sends chills down your spine. Sliding your back against the mattress, you slid so your knees hit the wood below you. Watching the eagerness flood Tommy’s eyes made you feel butterflies in your stomach. Tommy slipped his belt off, throwing it on the ground next to him, releasing the button of his jeans popped above you, and hearing the zipper going down, you watched as Tommy’s cock popped out from its restraints.

You stared in awe at the sheer size of Tommy’s dick. Tommy’s throbbing cock bounced in front of you, precum leaking from the slit of his cock. This was better than you can ever imagine. Veins traveled up the shaft of his cock, stopping at the mushroom tip of his cock. The happy trail from Tommy’s tummy showed up his pubic hair that rested above the shaft of his cock. Your mouth went dry in anticipation. It was the first time you had ever seen a dick this big and thick before and so close to your face.

“Fuck, bunny. I need to feel you,” Tommy groaned.

“Well, best not keep you waitin’ now, can we?” You quoted, dragging Tommy’s jeans down as your knuckles brushed up against the hair on his legs, gravity stopping Tommy’s jeans when they stopped at his ankles, your hand wraps the shaft of his cock. You slowly wrap your lips around the tip of Tommy’s cock, and you hear him exhale in pleasure – a sound you yearned to hear in the past.

Slowly pushing your head down the shaft of Tommy’s cock, lips wrapped tight – spit dripping down your chin; you feel the veins trace the skin of your lips as the head of Tommy’s cock presses into the back of your throat. A groan of pleasure escapes Tommy’s lips as you back your head up. You push your head forward and back leisurely, and you can tell the pace makes Tommy not see straight. His member in your mouth kept throbbing against the roof of your mouth. Suddenly, your pace went a little faster; you looked up and noticed Tommy was bearing his teeth, his hands gripping the back of your head, his hips having a mind of their own as he was obsessed with your mouth around his cock. The warmth of your mouth sent him into his version of heaven, and with each pump into your mouth, he couldn’t get enough of you.

The taste of salt fell upon your tongue as you backed your head up from Tommy’s cock. A line of spit mixed with precum connecting from your mouth to the tip of Tommy’s cock was made apparent as well as the tip of his cock reddened; eventually, the line of spit dropped onto the ground below you as you wrapped your hand around Tommy’s cock and started pumping his shaft, as the man dropped his hands to his sides. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry, baby,” Tommy released shaky breaths as he apologized.

You quickly swallowed the spit in your mouth. “It’s okay,” You breathed.

The moans escaping Tommy's lips had been a symphony to you. As your moans were to Tommy. “Fuck, baby. Y’so good at that. I’m so glad it's you doin’ this to me.” His southern drawl causes somersaults in your stomach. Sliding your mouth back onto Tommy’s cock, a deep guttural growl escaped his lips as your lips were at a quick pace, your hands planted on Tommy’s thighs, the hair on his thighs pressed up against your hand as the tip of Tommy’s cock kept hitting the back of your throat. Moans, grunts, whines, and whimpers were all escaping from Tommy’s lips, his hands holding onto your head as his hips humped into your head, his cock pressing deeper – causing you to gag a couple of times. Your nose kept poking into where Tommy’s pubic hair rested; the scent was intoxicating, causing your cock to leak with precum below you.

Suddenly, Tommy held your head – bearing his teeth in pleasure; your throat grasping around his cock, causing you to gag more. Slobber escaping your mouth as with each inhale through your nose – resting on Tommy’s hairy patch made it impossible to exhale without gagging. Your palms were getting sweaty against Tommy’s thighs, the hair on his legs feeling nonexistent against your slippery hands.

His hands slide your head back; lines of spit connect from his cock to your top and bottom lips. Deep inhales and exhales leave your body as you watch Tommy slightly shudder. His cock glistened in your spit, throbbing and visibly reddened. Sweat littered Tommy's shaven chest and forehead; you swallowed the spit in the back of your throat from your excessive breathing. Tommy bent down, grabbed your chin, and kissed you passionately. Your forehead felt heavy with sweat as Tommy backed up from you; he slid his hand up, pushing the strands of hair that littered his forehead. “Fuck, sorry, baby. Y’mouth is so fuckin’ addictin’.”

Tommy, We’re just getting started,” You spoke, disregarding his apology. Quickly eager to show him what you meant, you pick up his cock and slide your tongue on the underside of Tommy’s shaft. Lapping your tongue against his veins, you could hear Tommy’s praise from above. “I wish I had met you first,” Tommy groaned as he slipped his fingers through his hair.

Bringing your tongue slowly down to make Tommy squirm, you feel his body a little bit as you are still holding his cock in your hand; you place your mouth around his ball sack and lightly suck on one of them. “OH, SHIT!” Tommy groaned. Tommy’s body shook, almost falling like a sandcastle; Tommy hadn’t felt this level of pleasure before, from anyone in his past, before meeting you. “You like that, Tommy?” You asked. “Yes,” Tommy gritted his teeth. “Fuck, I love it s’much.” Backing your mouth up, you stroke Tommy’s cock and watch him hold his head back, and moans escape his lips. Bending down, Tommy places his hands between the fold of your armpits and picks you up from your knees.

Planting his lips against yours, the kiss you shared between the two of you felt hungry, Lips mashing against each other, teeth clashing against each other. Tommy’s arms hold you tightly against his torso. Tommy was fucking yearning for you as his lips were latching against your cheeks, jawline, against the skin of your neck. That feeling of Tommy’s teeth against your neck made you know Tommy was marking you as his. Your nails drag against Tommy’s lengthy hair as you enjoy Tommy’s mouth, bringing his head back against your lips. Sweat forming on Tommy’s bare chest was seeping through your shirt. You wanted to take it off to feel Tommy’s skin against yours. Backing your head away from Tommy’s, his head following suit as he watches you attempt to take your shirt off.

Tommy couldn’t wait to get the shirt off and over your head. Wrapping your arms around Tommy’s neck, he wraps his arms against your lower back. The warmth of each other’s bodies radiated against each other. Your cocks rubbed against each other; the warmth you both shared was hot enough to blow the roof off your bedroom. This experience felt surreal, like a dream you didn’t want to wake up from.

Backing his head away from your lips, you notice a look of wanting in Tommy’s eyes, which start to darken as he opens his mouth to speak. “Fuck, I gotta have you now, bunny,” Tommy admitted.

“Get on that fuckin’ bed,” Tommy nodded toward the mattress. You listened to Tommy, letting your arms go from around his neck; you crawled on the bed, right where your pillow was rested, on your chin; as you rested on your stomach, you heard Tommy crawling behind you, readjusting you to have you on your knees – spread apart and your back arched. A line of spit leaves Tommy’s mouth and connects to the tip of his cock, rubbing the spit to lube up his cock. Slowly leaning behind you, Tommy moves his hand from the tip to his shaft as he starts to tease you – making you shudder in anticipation.

Moving his cock to poke your hole makes you yearn for him every slight push into you. Tommy begins to question you. “How bad you want my cock, baby?”

“Badly,” You admit.

Tommy leans up behind you, and you can feel his breath against your ear; as you feel the shaft of his cock fit into the curves of your ass, his hips begin to slightly shift up and down, teasing you, causing your hole to ache. “Just how badly?” Tommy questioned. “So fuckin’ bad, I need you, Tommy.” You hear him chuckle against your ear as he whispers in your ear. “Well then, best not keep you waiting.” Tommy backed up from your ear, and with one of his hands, he angled his cock to press against your hole.

Tommy slowly pushes in; you feel the tip stretch you out and his hands on your hips. You stifle your moans into the pillow below. “Does it hurt, baby?” You shake your head, denying Tommy’s question. His shaft is halfway in before he pulls out fast, his grip let loose on your waist. You gasp before breathing heavily. “Oh shit. Sorry, baby, gimmie a minute,” Tommy commented. Once again, Tommy slides his cock into you, hands back onto your waist, making your moans have no level of intensity as prior lovers. Halfway in, Tommy rocks his hips back and forth slowly into you, hoping you can adjust to his size. Your eyes snapped shut intensely, straining your eyelids. The pain was starting to feel good, too good.

“Is this okay, baby?” Opening your eyes, you crane your neck to notice the concern in Tommy’s eyes. He looked so careful, protective, and sweet; you’ve always liked this side of him. “Yes, Tommy. It’s okay,” You smile. Leaning down to kiss you, Tommy’s hips still rocking into your hole, moans exiting your mouth and entering Tommy’s. Feeling him slowly stretch you out felt indescribable; it felt good, but you did want Tommy to go faster. “Tommy,” You moan against Tommy's mouth. “Yes, baby?”

Tommy backs up to hear you properly. But before Tommy could say anything, it was as if a switch went off inside his head, as his hands were molding into your waist. His pace was faster and rougher. Claps rang throughout the room with each thrust as you angled your hands to reach behind and reach for Tommy’s bicep while Tommy was drilling his cock inside you. His bicep felt huge compared to your hand. It felt like Tommy could read your mind, knowing that you wanted more and that he would give it to you. “Fuck, I could do this all day, bunny. This feels so amazing,” Tommy breathed; the man looked at you and moved closer to you so the curve of your back could fit together with his tummy, his hands placed on either side of your head while his lips latched onto yours as his cock continued to pump inside you. With each pump, you moaned against Tommy’s mouth, and he smiled against your lips.

“Y’wanna know how bad I’ve wanted to do this?” Tommy breathed.

“How much?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“Every time we went drinking,” Tommy grunted. “Every single time we got too close to each other, whenever you would rest your head on my shoulder.”

“God, I must’ve asked for this countless times, goddamn prayed for it,” Tommy gritted while holding your chin, causing you to look at him again as he slowly started pumping his cock; he was slowly humping in and just staring at you in your eyes. “Now I finally got what I want, you,” Tommy announced as he slid his cock out of you and laid down next to you; his cock was still hard, but Tommy wanted more of you. You adjusted yourself on your side, and Tommy started holding the bend of your knee; Tommy adjusted his cock to press against the hole of your taint, causing you to shudder and chuckle when you craned your head over your shoulder and saw Tommy’s cheeky grin. You feel Tommy’s cock slide inside your hole; as you placed your head on the pillow, you felt his stomach against your back again; that feeling of closeness with someone you never thought you could have made your cock throb.

Tommy’s arm had wrapped around your head. As you picked it up and rested on his forearm, you could hear the grunts and groans leaving Tommy’s lips and feel his breath on your ear.

“Y’wanted this, didn’t ya?” Tommy grunted.

“Fuck, yeah, Tommy,” You writhing in pleasure, “Wanted this for so long.”

“I’can say the same about this boy pussy of yours, grippin’ onto me so tight, it doesn’t want to let go, and I don’t think I want it to.” You bring your hands to Tommy’s head and plant your lips against his. An exhale leaves Tommy’s mouth against yours. This may sound like a diss to your sister, but seeing this side of Tommy made you wonder if she ever made Tommy this pleased. “I gotta ask,” You breathed. “My sister never made you this happy, right?”

“Your sister,” Tommy grunted. “Never wanted to do the things you asked for; always wanted things her way.” Tommy’s cock kept hitting your G-spot; you moaned in pleasure as your hand craned onto the back of his head. “And with you, I know what we both like,” Tommy pumped his cock forcefully, causing you to meet him at the base of his cock. “So I’m gonna fuck you so hard till we both get what we want.” Tommy’s cock pumped inside your forcefully again, and you felt your walls slowly adjust to the size of his cock.

Tommy’s length was stretching you out as his cock kept pumping into you, causing moans to escape through your mouth. The sun's rays glistened on both your skin and Tommy’s as sweat littered on the both of you. Tommy bore his teeth and started to fuck you senselessly. Wrapping his forearm in the front of your neck and his other arm deeper in the bend of your knee, – his hands interlocking with each other. You moan in pleasure as you hear low growls escape Tommy Miller – feeling his breath against your ear causes shivers to crawl down your spine. “Fuck, you feel my cock stretchin’ you out, baby?”

“Mhmm,” You nodded, shutting your eyes, avoiding his glare.

“Hey,” Tommy’s voice made you snap your eyes open to look at him. “I need a clear answer,” His teeth gritted. “No more of that ‘Mhmm’ shit.” His pace began to slow down a bit.

You couldn’t tell if you were turned on or scared by his dominance, but you could feel your cock throb once again, so you had your answer. “Yes, I feel your cock.”

The man behind you grins, “Well, you better get used to it. This boy pussy is mine; nobody elses; I don’t give a shit what your sister says or your folks. You’re mine now, understand?”

You were about to nod your head until you answered. “Yes, I’m yours.”

“Envision this,” Tommy’s hold was still the same, with his hands still interlocked, but his gaze wasn’t on you anymore. It had been at the door he carried you in moments prior. “Your folks walk in, and they see this; your sis sees us together, but I don’t give a rat's ass, and I just keep going,” One deep thrust caused you to groan. “I just keep filling your hole with my cock, because I don’t care anymore because you – deep thrust – are – deep thrust – mine!” In the last thrust, Tommy released his hold on you, and you moaned into your pillow.

As your face was in your pillow, you felt Tommy’s hand smack your ass. “C’mon, bunny. We ain’t done. You chuckled as you picked your face up from your pillow; you saw Tommy adjust himself in the middle of your bed – his head is where your feet should be, and his cock was throbbing and leaking with pre-cum. “What do ya say, bunny?” Tommy patted his thigh. “You gonna take this stallion for a ride?”

Playfully biting your lip at Tommy’s question, you playfully crawl towards him and straddle his lap. You feel the tip of his cock on your ass cheek, so you maneuver the shaft of his cock to sit in the curve of your ass; you begin to grind your ass back as if you were trying to tease Tommy. “I kinda just had a funny thought.”

You hear a light chuckle from the man under you – his hands on your waist – moving you back and forth against the shaft of his cock – your hands on his chest, “What is it?” Tommy smirks. “I can always tell my mom I’m going to be at a friend's house when in reality,” You bow your head closer to his. “I’m actually having the time of my life at Tommy Miller’s place. Do you like that idea?’

“Oh, I love that idea,” Tommy growled, his hands slapping your ass. “Oh really, you do?”

“I’m fucking obsessed with it, baby.” Tommy’s lips latched onto yours, you placed your hands on each side of his face, and you started grinding your hips against the shaft of his cock again. “Oh, fuck, baby,” Tommy’s southern drawl was moaned against your mouth, “You’re gettin’ me all hot and bothered, making me feel things I never thought I would ever feel.”

“Huh, really?” You asked cocky.

“Mhm.” Tommy smooched against your lips.

“How about I give you another one,” You say as you adjust the tip of Tommy’s cock to press up against your hole. Sliding yourself down onto his cock, the both of you groan into pleasure as you place your hand back onto his chest. You started to breathe heavily as you tried to readjust to Tommy’s length. “Hey, hey, you got this. Deep breaths,” He reassured.

When you met the base of his cock, a howl escaped Tommy’s lips. “Would ya’ look at that? Fits just like a glove, huh?” His hands spank your ass again. “What was that you said about feelin’ another feeling?” You watched as Tommy bore his teeth and started to fuck you senselessly. Wrapping his hand tight on your waist. You ball your hands into fists on Tommy’s pecs – your knuckles begin to get sweaty. “You like this, don’t ya, baby?”

“Fuck, yeah,” You nodded.

“You want my cum to swim inside you – gettin’ you pregnant?”

“Fuck, Tommy, I need you now.”

His hands went up the small of your back – your face leaning feet away from his. “Imma give you what you, baby. Don’t you worry,” Tommy reassured.

That feeling of being stretched out came back as you rested your forehead on Tommy’s. His hands are on your upper back, holding you in position; each push of his length made your moans push out of you more. It was like your body was in heat — Tommy’s warmth.

He was so different from the respectable man you met; he had become someone different because of you, and you loved every minute. “I’m so close to cummin’ inside you, baby. Fuck, you feel my cock throbbin’ inside you?”

If you were lying, the feeling of each throb that was coming from Tommy’s cock, caused you to feel like you were about to cum. “Tommy, I’m so close. Keep going,” You begged.

“Fuck,” Tommy growled. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect.” His pace was going faster, and it felt the tip of your cock felt like it was going to explode with your cum. “Fuck, Tommy. I’m gonna cum.”

“Fuck, bunny. Me too.’

“Here it comes,” Tommy gritted his teeth.

With one final push, you see your cum shoot out onto Tommy’s chest, and you also feel Tommy’s cum swim inside you – you see the man slightly shudder as strings of cum shoot inside you. Light breaths are escaping both of you as you lightly pat Tommy’s chest. You slowly start to slide off his cock; you feel his warm cum slide out from your hole. A sigh of relief exits your mouth, and you rest your body next to Tommy’s – your head on his shoulder. The both of you breathing heavily as you were both exhausted, the adrenaline wearing off, his soft cock against his stomach as you see his chest dip and rise from the breaths he’s taking.

“On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate–” You start, but then you get cut off by Tommy.

“A fuckin’ twelve – shit, an a million.”

You chuckle against Tommy’s shoulder and place your hand on his chest, right over his heart – you feel it racing. “An a million?” You smile.

“A million,” Tommy repeated, looking at you and placing his hand over yours. Both of you smile as you look into each other’s eyes; you slightly shake your head and lick your lips, which Tommy notices. “What?’

“My sister is so fucking stupid; the fact that she couldn’t treat you right means she’s fuckin’ brain dead.” Tommy couldn’t help but chuckle as he heard what you said about your sister. “I”m serious, your caring, sweet, protective, and you know how to fuck, like a beast.”

“Oh, I know how to fuck, huh?”

“What would you call what we just did? Dancing?” You joke. Tommy always did love your nonchalant attitude. “That was makin’ love, baby. Pure and sweet love makin’ with the guy I love most.” Tommy smiled and planted his lips on your forehead, backing up and looking into your eyes again.

“Now, I don’t want to be a party pooper–”

“Then don’t, baby,” Tommy moved the arm you were resting on and held you tighter in a cuddle. “Let’s just enjoy our moment together.”

“You need to get the rest of your things out of my sister’s room, and I need to shower; quite frankly, we need a shower.”

“Why is that, bunny?”

You adjust to rest your head on his chest, his arm still holding you. “So I can tell my mom, dad, and sister that I’ll be at a friend’s house when, in reality, I’m at your place,” you smile.

Tommy’s face went into a frown as he was thinking. “Well, in that case, I’ll meet you in the shower?”

“I will try to meet you in the shower; my legs are killing me.”

“Okay,” Tommy quickly let you go and got out of your bed faster than he would if he were in lava. You couldn’t help but laugh as you saw him leave your bedroom and move towards the bathroom. You smiled and exhaled when you realized you finally got what you wanted.

[loulou-land]

Chicken Noodle Soup for the Heart

Day 2 of @bucktommyfluffebruary | Cooking Together | 1,470 words

It was the kind of day that made staying in feel inevitable. Outside, torrential rain fell against the loft’s windows, its relentless rhythm sounding softened inside the kitchen. Buck was grateful they both had the next 48 hours off—no calls, no alarms, just the luxury of enjoying the bad weather from the warmth of home instead of going against it.  

And Buck could think of nothing better on a day like this than making soup from scratch—something rich, hearty, and comforting. 

He moved instinctively, pulling ingredients from the fridge and pantry, spreading them out on the counter with practiced ease. Taking a step back, he ran through his mental checklist, envisioning how each component would come together to create the perfect chicken noodle soup.  

Over the past couple of years, Buck had come to appreciate the art of cooking, taking pride in the growing repertoire of recipes he’d mastered—many of them learned through trial and error, as well as sheer persistence. He had pestered Bobby until he had every little detail down to a science. 

Now, he could already imagine the depth of the broth, the way the herbs would meld together, the chicken turning perfectly tender, the explosion of flavors in his mouth. A pleased hum escaped him at the thought. 

Which was when Tommy's voice broke through his focus, momentarily reminding him that he wasn't alone in the kitchen. 

“You know there's a can of soup in the pantry, right?” Tommy said, voice laced with amusement. 

Buck stopped. Turned in his direction. Stared. 

Tommy, leaning lazily against the edge of the counter in one of the kitchen chairs, looked entirely unbothered by the deep offense he had just committed. 

“A can?” Buck echoed, as though repeating it out loud would change the fact that his boyfriend had seriously just suggested he heat up canned soup. “Why would I—? You think I’m just gonna—? Tommy.” He shook his head, muttering, “I can't even look at you right now,” before moving to his cutting board, whispering the recipe under his breath like a mantra. Willing himself to ignore the overly amused man watching him from the other side of the kitchen counter. 

Buck was not falling for it again. 

He knew Tommy’s tactics. He loved to rile Buck up when he was in the kitchen, often distracting him from his cooking until it led to wandering hands, panting kisses, loud moans, and eventually—burnt dinner. So no, Buck wasn’t going to let himself get sidetracked this time. 

He soon lost himself in the rhythm of it—chopping onions, heating butter, letting the scent of sauteing vegetables fill the space. A little salt, a little pepper, the start of one of the recipe's components coming to fruition. 

But then—he couldn't ignore it anymore. 

An intense gaze. Like a soft caress running over him. 

He glanced up, catching Tommy watching him with an indefinable expression. Soft. Slightly exasperated. Amused. Fond. 

In love. 

Buck swallowed hard, a flush running up his cheeks and ears. He quickly shifted focus, turning to the pot—stirring with intense concentration. He was just cooking. It wasn't a big deal. 

But the way Tommy was looking at him—like Buck had hung the moon and all the stars just for him—it made him feel unbelievably warm inside. His throat tightened, the onslaught of things wanting to spill through his lips catching in the sudden knot that formed there. Still, the words echoed through him.  I love you. Thank you. I Love You. 

The breakup had left its mark on them both in different ways. Buck’s sometimes manifested in moments like this—in wanting to say it over and over, in wanting to make sure Tommy knew. That he was grateful Tommy had come back, was still here. 

Okay, Buck needed a distraction. 

“Alright,” he announced, clearing his throat. “You're not just gonna stand there watching—I'm putting you to work. If you want soup, you can help.” He placed his hands on his hips with authority. 

Tommy raised an eyebrow at Buck's bratty little stance, lips quirking like they did anytime he acted like that. Buck just knew Tommy was already plotting some kind of retribution for later. He felt a shiver run down his spine but he quickly shook it off. 

Tommy let out a small, amused laugh before stepping up beside him. “Fine. What am I doing, chef?”

Buck’s heart stuttered. The playful nickname wrapped in that special way Tommy always said his name. He cleared his throat. 

“Carrots.” Buck handed him a knife and some whole carrots. “Cut them like this.” He demonstrated, cutting them into tiny, perfectly uniform cubes with quick, even movements. 

Tommy hummed, took hold of the knife—then did absolutely none of that. 

Buck watched in mounting alarm as Tommy hacked his way through the first carrot. The slices were uneven, some too thick, some too thin, one somehow triangular. 

“What—what are you doing?” Buck asked, voice bordering on distressed. 

Tommy barely glanced up, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he butchered another carrot. “Cutting the carrots.”

“Well, they look—” Buck inhaled sharply, letting out a nervous chuckle. “um…artistic.”

Tommy snorted. “Don't backseat cut, Evan.” 

“What—Tommy, that’s not a thing.” 

“It is when you’re breathing down my neck while I wield a knife.” 

“I am guiding you.” 

“You’re hovering.”

Buck clenched his jaw, breathing through the urge to snatch the knife away. He lasted maybe three more seconds, wincing as Tommy whacked the blade against another carrot (why is he whacking at them? Buck thought, horrified) before exhaling sharply and gently shoving Tommy aside with his hip. “Okay, I'll cut the carrots.” 

Tommy threw his head back and laughed, stepping away with his hands up in surrender, as he allowed Buck full control of his kitchen again. 

Buck frowned at him, narrowing his eyes suspiciously when Tommy threw him a wink. 

“Were you butchering them on purpose?” he asked, already working through the rest of the carrots with quick, precise cuts. 

“Not at all,” Tommy said, completely unconvincing. “I was trying my hardest.” His voice was dry as he wiped his hands on a rag, then leaned back against the counter—subtly flexing his muscles at Buck. 

Buck’s lips twitched, before he ducked his head and let himself smile. 

He'd never known love could feel like this. Had never had this with anyone else before. This easy banter, the teasing, the laughter, the way he felt wanted and above all, free to be himself.  

When he looked up again, Tommy was still watching him, smiling happily, the crinkles around his blue eyes, deep and warm. 

“You’re such a liar,” Buck said, voice bright with laughter. 

“Hey, now, those are some serious accusations.” Tommy said in mock offense. 

Buck rolled his eyes fondly before stepping into Tommy’s orbit, pressing a quick kiss to his boyfriend's cleft. 

Tommy caught him by the waist, his hand settling below his chin as he pulled Buck in for a  deeper, softer kiss. Saying his I love you in the way he held Buck close, in the way he kissed him like he was something precious. And Buck said it back with another gentle press of his lips, his fingers curling into Tommy’s sweater. 

Buck sighed happily, then nudged Tommy away with a grin. “Alright, stop being a menace and go wait on over there” he pointed to the chairs “while i finish the soup.”

Tommy hummed, pressing a quick kiss to Buck’s forehead right over his birthmark. “Yes, chef.”

By the time the soup was simmering, warm and rich, Tommy had set the table and opened a bottle of wine. Buck stirred the pot one last time before ladling out two bowls and bringing them to the table. They clinked their glasses together, sharing a look that said how grateful they were for these moments. 

Tommy took one bite and let out a deep, appreciative moan. “This is wonderful, Evan.” 

Buck felt himself flush, both at the compliment and Tommy’s reaction. He ducked his head, stirring his own bowl. “Well, you helped a little.”

Tommy tilted his head, amused. “Oh?”

Buck smiled, lifting his spoon and pointing to the triangular carrot in the broth. 

Tommy stared for a moment before breaking into a grin, something bashful and deeply touched flashing across his face. He reached across the table, catching Buck’s hand in his own before bringing it to his lips, pressing a warm lingering kiss to his knuckles.  

They smiled softly at each other, before they continued eating, slipping into easy conversation—talking about nothing and everything. 

Outside, the rain kept falling. The rest of the world tinged gray, cold and wet.  

But inside, they were bathed in faint yellow lights, their hearts full of warmth and love.

[causeimcrayzeebee]

tetro back it again making me cry way too early in the morning alright lets talk about the things on my mind after this weeks episodes

first of all, (princess) Monomoko. goodness. i have really enjoyed seeing her become more and more sympathetic and aware, building her own consciousness. that really worries me about her, in the event that something could happen to her. the fact that she told seki that she cant justify the killing game anymore, and seki doesn’t really say anything about he feels. i wonder if he feels the same way. also from corrective approach, it seems like seki turned her in, but honestly is it just me or does it seem like something where kan found out on his own n seki wasn’t able to do anything about it? i mean obviously he’s still choosing to do nothing, but like i feel like it would be weird that he told on her yk? or am i just losing my mind.

ojima. oh my goodness ojima, I did not expect a lore dump, but wow. hayashi telling him that talking about it could be his chance to be strong,,, and he actually starts speaking. i really loved that hayashi was the one he told, especially considering their similarities. ojima throughout the ep was hugely impressed that she survived the year of being kidnapped and locked away, and thinking he himself as incapable of being that strong, but hayashi saying that she’s not stronger, she’s just had more practice was a key thing. ojima took that first step of saying something all those years ago, and when the people around him (his father not his brothers) blamed him of lying, he didn’t feel like he had the people to support him that he needed, thus backing away. ojima opening up again after that (and about something he’s avoided for most of his life) is HUGE. now, as he tells hayashi what happened to him, she can be part of that support system for him.

hayashi has gone through so much too. i think her story really highlights the importance of having people around you. her parents were still searching for her, and once she was actually able to escape, she had her parents back. the whole kidnapping was incredibly fucked, it’s amazing that she made it. she’s so strong and i love her, she really has stepped up to giving the rest of the cast support, just like she was by her parents.

on another note MY PARENTS [hayashigeki] ARE NO LONGER ON THE PATH TO DIVORCE!!! the fact that yanagi was so distraught and worried about restricting hayashi and being controlling just like his father, only to find out hayashi was mad at him for putting himself in danger... I really liked communication attempt, I'm so glad they actually talked. yanagi talking about long term plans though worries me..... king pls.....

speaking of long term plans, this is what got me bawling again, in refulgence post mortem. kamimura kazutoshi, the guy literally trying to kill himself just before the killing game (which I still wonder what this means for how they got the participants into the game,,, did they have to like resuscitate him??) , was thinking about going back to school to pursue his dream. he wanted to reconnect with his aunt. hasegawa saying he was proud of him really got me. kamimura had found something he wanted to do, something to strive for in the future. and then he was taken away. hasegawa's distain for okazaki is clear in this episode. they way that hasegawa talked about kamimura was full of love, both when he talked about the little things that were negative about kamimura, like how he was easily annoyed, and when he talked about how funny and kind he was. i think it’s really interesting too how Hama was asking hasegawa, someone the rest of the group knows even LESS, about kamimura. it feels like when two mutual friends talk about someone they knew and get closer through that. i really hope this marks hasegawa beginning to reach out more. (OH YEAH ALSO HASEGAWA CLEANING KAMIMURAS BODY AND THE SCENE,,,, WHAT IF I CRIED.) this episode was also something that really hit how isolated the two were from the rest of the group; we all knew this about kamimura, but hama was hearing a lot of this for the first time.

i really loved hama in this weeks episodes too. teacher hama made me so happy I cant believe we had five minutes of hama yapping about yokai that was AWESOME. wama nation rise this week was peak.... the way he responds to wada in extra credit is so fucking sweet, and him reading chibas story (AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH) to help wada fall asleep was so fucking adorable I lost it. hama is truly someone with so much love to give.

wada this week has clearly been going through a lot. I think definitely in chapter 4, he's starting to grow a bit more confidence and strength to move forward, but shit is hard. it makes sense for wada to backpedal a bit. i knew a lot of what happened cause of wada.exe but damn was it so painful hearing it VOICED. shout out to literallt every single tetro VA, i think their work has absolutely enhanced the story so beautifully. wada has so much to deal with and his past will always be with him. “it can't be trauma because that means it won't go away”, was a really striking line. i really loved all the lines in these episodes, they held so much power.

oh yanagi, you sweet son of a bitch. I'm so worried for his survival chances this chapter, he's been serving everyone. he treated Monomoko to the princess experience despite everything. he helped wada talk about his issues with food and set out to help him do something about it, just like how he did with his sister. he kept trying until finally having the opportunity to talk to hayashi. yanagi is someone who knows where he comes from, but has made huge strides and constant effort to not be like his father.

and finally, speaking of families. watari. oh my goodness, I love watari so much. her interview was amazing, it was such a rollercoaster (girlie is the number one wama n hasemura fan lmfaoo), but I really enjoyed the whole thing. i had a suspicion that she really just longed to be a teenager without responsibilities when I read her secret files, but damn. i think the wish for her mom to be more involved is something so sad but so real. tons of kids have to end up taking care of their siblings like how watari has to, and it’s a lot on someone who’s still growing themselves. i didn’t make that connection to why she loved having fun with okazaki until this interview, and wow. Firefox nation how we feeling (im going to explode UAHSHDJEJEJE). this killing game, ironically, gave her the opportunity to be free, just for a bit. i also find her instinct to say she wants to be an only child interesting, as I think it’s instinct to blame the immediate people around you for a problem that is more (likely?) systematic. but in reality all she wants is her mom to do things for her, like a mother should.

I think this is the first proper time watari has acknowledged how she’s been feeling about Okazaki (Y’all are cruel with these questions LMAO). okazaki was someone she could have fun with, to enjoy herself with. okazaki let her be who she wished she could’ve been, and she wanted her. if Okazaki hadn’t killed like she did, maybe things would be different. clearly, under all her hatred and anger towards Okazaki for the fucked up things she did, she loved her. she misses her. she still wants to be foxes with her, in another life, where they can start over and have a clean slate. she wants to spend life with the one who let her be the carefree teenager she wanted to be. she wants her. don’t mind me bawling my eyes out!

overall, I've really loved the themes of support from tetro recently. I think it's been a common reminder coming through that people need others to keep going. support is a powerful thing, and when so many of the cast of tetro have been alone in some aspect during their life, finding the people to help them through it to move on through their life is an incredibly powerful thing.

[scribere-flores]

Sabo x Reader

~Just as a hypothetical question~

Part 6. Other Parts Word count: 6,1k words (Dear God) Short summary: There's drama, there's chaos, things get a little bit serious at one point, and then, a little bit of smut sprinkled on top. Basically: Reader+Sabo+Miscommunication= solved... kinda. AN: I've risen from hell, aka first semester of law & political science courses. In all seriousness, I'm so so grateful for the wonderful support all of you have given my cheesy little fic. I really appreciate the nice and understanding comments while I've been away. I had so much fun writing this last chapter whenever I had time. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did <3 (Not proof read, will fix any spelling errors after I get some sleep)

MDNI 18+

___

Shit.

Y/N was practically sprinting through the hallways as soon as she had left the library. She must have looked insane to anyone that saw her.

She messed up, she messed up big time!

Not only did Y/N snap at the man who potentially wanted to torture her, possibly even kill her.

No, she also left the book on the table. The book that had “Outdoor Survival” spelled with bold, bright orange letters on the front!

And Sabo wasn’t stupid, she knew that. By this point he must already have figured out what she was planning, and was probably plotting some kind of sick, twisted way of making sure she couldn’t leave.

What if he locks her in a cell and throws away the key? Deprived her of ever seeing the sunlight again? 

No, Sabo wouldn’t really do that. Right?

Y/N let out a nervous laughter as she felt a shiver run down her spine. This wasn’t the time for guessing, she couldn’t risk staying a day longer at this godawful base. She just needed to gather a few more things, and then she was ready to start her new life. 

Preferably far far away from the sadistic blond devil that took pleasure in stalking and tormenting her. 

As she pushed the front door to the base open, unwelcome thoughts sneaked into her mind. 

A gorgeous, handsome, honey-voiced devil, with strong arms that could easily pin her down so he-

“NO NO NO! Stop fantasizing about him, you stupid,stupid girl! That’s insane behavior, you know it is never-” Y/N choked on her words “never going to happen...”

A loud sigh escaped her lips as her shoulders dropped forward, forehead leaning against the wall outside the building. Was this really a good idea? In truth, she felt completely unprepared to live out the rest of her days in the wilderness.

Maybe life as the Chief of Staff’s captive wouldn’t be so bad?

“Ha-ha, I must be losing my mind.” Y/N laughed nervously as she pushed herself up from her leaning position.

Staying wasn’t an option. But neither was going out into the forest unprepared. She looked around the busy town square.

“Now, where do I find something sharp…” 

___

“What are those two doing today?” Koala pondered as she looked out over the town.

She was resting her head against her hand, arm leaning over the windowsill, as her eyes closely followed Jane Doe. The girl had been running around the town for the past hour, gathering one strange thing after the other. 

Just as the girl slipped into another alleyway, Koala’s attention was caught by Sabo jumping out from a window, quickly moving over the rooftops with his steel pipe on his back. And she knew that could only spell trouble. Which meant, more paperwork for her.

Her so-called partner had taken his newfound hobby, stalking, to a whole other level these past few days. In a way it was kinda endearing seeing Sabo run around like a lovesick puppy. Some of the Revs had even started a pool, placing bets on how long it would take before those two finally got together… or until Jane Doe flat out rejected Sabo once and for all.

Koala found that highly unlikely though. The girl was obviously crushing hard, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Koala even suspected that the poor girl was so nervous that she was planning on running away, which would achieve absolutely nothing since Sabo would find her straight away. 

“But what do I know? Maybe this is just what happens when you have that kind of upbringing.…” Koala sighed “Still, Nobles are fucking weird.”

___

“Oh Dear God, that was a close call.” Y/N sighed as she turned the key to her bedroom door.

She had just managed to avoid Koala’s attempt to “have a talk”. Something she desperately wanted to avoid, because in her mind, “having a talk” could only mean one thing…

“I really hope Koala hasn’t found out too.” She said under her breath as she entered her bedroom.

"Find out about what?" 

An audible ‘eep’ escaped Y/N mouth as she heard the familiar voice, before she quickly put her hands over her mouth and took a step back from shock, her back hitting the now closed door. 

"How d-did you get in here… t-the door was locked." She said with a shaky voice as she eyed the blond man sitting on her bed.

"Window." Sabo shrugged. As if what he said wasn’t insane, or not even acknowledging that he had broken into her room! 

"We're on the third floor.” Y/N stuttered, still not completely comprehending her current situation.

Why? Why was this happening now? Why was he here? She was just coming back to gather her things, and then she was supposed to leave. 

She felt her heart beating faster as she glared at Sabo. 

"Breathe Angel, I was just returning what I took this morning…” He chuckled as he walked over to her dresser and put her neatly folded underwear on it.

‘Okay, great! Now, please leave, please.’ she prayed quietly in her head.

“And I have a question for you, so I waited until you got back." Sabo said with a bright smile, but she saw something flicker in his eye, and that couldn’t be good.

"Q-question?" She stuttered as he started to walk towards her " Wait, don't-" 

"Are you planning to run away, Y/N?" He was standing right in front of her, keeping her trapped between him and the door.

‘Wait, no-’ She felt her mind spiraling out of control. That name. Her name… No, no no no no.

"How do you-" A finger was placed over her mouth.

“Aa-aa, my question first, Y/N.”

“I don’t- that’s not-”

“It’s okay, I promise I’m not mad. But you don’t need to lie anymore Y/N.” Sabo gave her a kind, deceiving smile.

“Stop saying it!” She bursted out, trying to push him back. But he wasn’t bugging, instead he only moved closer to her.

“Oh, but it’s such a pretty name. Much better than Jane Doe. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…” He chuckled with a dreamy expression, twirling her hair between two fingers. 

Y/N could only stare at Sabo with horror as she took in the almost obsessive look in his eyes and the faint smile over his lips. He knew he had won their “game”, and now he was acting like a cat, playing with his prey.

She could feel her breath quicken, how the panic spread through her mind… And honestly, though embarrassing to admit, she felt a little bit aroused. Which was a whole other issue in itself that she really needed to deal with if she somehow got out of this situation alive.

Because, she really shouldn’t be turned on by this!

Sabo let go of her hair and grazed his gloved hand against her cheek, making her flinch. To her surprise her reaction made him take a step back, giving her much needed space to breathe. He sighed and furrowed his eyebrows, almost making it look like he was concerned. 

“Please don’t worry, sweetheart. You don’t have to hide anymore. I personally made sure those people won’t come looking for you.” Sabo smiled, sounding kinda proud?

“People? Wait- What did you do?” Y/N was feeling a little confused. Had he really… He couldn’t have, right?

"It was quite easy actually, don’t know why I didn’t do this from the start. It would have saved me so. much. pent. up. frustration." His voice came out strained, almost like a moan. 

"I just made a few visits to some very disgusting bugs, before the information I gathered pointed me in the right direction." 

‘Disgusting bugs’ Nobles? Right direction? No-

She closely studied Sabo as he mindlessly wandered around the room, continuing his explanation.

"Your dad is a fucking coward, by the way. I barely stepped foot inside the castle before he surrendered both the country and more importantly, your name, in exchange for his own life.

You should have seen the look on his face when I introduced myself as his future son-in-law, it was fucking priceless." He laughed, wiping a tear from his eye.

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. This man. Correction, this insane man had by himself broken into the castle of an enemy country and threatened the king of said country, just so he could learn what her name was? 

For what reason? So he could torture and then execute her with good conscious that he had done a thorough investigation beforehand? And what did he mean by ‘future son-in-law’?

She let out a nervous laughter, catching Sabo’s attention and making him walk towards her again. 

"Oh Angel, please don't be scared. We aren't going to meet the fuckers who put you through all of that anymore, I'll make sure of it. It will just be the two of us from now on." Sabo said with a calm tone as he tried pulling her into a hug, which she quickly dodged, so she was now standing in the middle of the room.

Holy fuck-

His statement made her realize what Sabo had been trying to do from the start. He was planning on keeping her alive. To be played with as his personal toy for the rest of her life. 

And what must be a very deranged part of herself actually felt relieved over that fact. She would at least get to see his gorgeous face every day. Even if it was when he was taking pleasure in torturing her, or something…

Dear God, that was so freaking messed up!

Sabo brought his hand to her cheek, giving her that kind, deceiving smile. She flinched away when she felt the cool touch of leather on her skin. His smile dropped, a confused wrinkle appearing between his brows. 

"Y/N, it isn’t me you're scared of, right?" He asked, giving her a serious look.

"No- I'm-" She took a step back, but Sabo quickly grabbed a hold of her wrist, pulling her towards him.

"Yes you are. Why?" He asked again, the grip around her wrist becoming firmer.

Y/N looked around the room in a panic, her eyes landing on the doorknob. Why the fuck didn’t she just open the door and run away when she had the chance? Why didn’t she think about that before, you know… she was trapped and unable to escape.

She needed to use what little brain capacity she had left and figure something out. Think think think!

‘If a man ever bothers you, just pretend to faint. That’s what all the other ladies your age do.’

Her mother’s words swirled through her mind. Could that really work? Y/N pondered on the crazy idea only for a second before she decided that it was probably the best she could come up with in this situation.

She saw how Sabo quirk his eyebrow and loosened his grip a little just as she closed her eyes, put her hand against her forehead, let out an audible gasp and let her body fall limp to the floor.

___

For a moment, Sabo could only stare flabbergasted at the “fainted” Angel on the floor. He certainly hadn’t expected her to do…whatever it was that she was trying to do.

But he liked that she kept surprising him with her silly little acts, even if they still really needed to have a serious conversation about her running away… and you, allegedly being scared of him? What reason could she have to be scared? Had he been a little too blunt with his explanation about how he found out what her name was? 

No, he couldn’t have. He even purposely left out the bloody part, she didn’t need to know about that. And to be fair, he barely touched those disgusting bugs that had described  “the princess” as some kind of mindless trophy. Sabo had just made it very clear that he couldn’t stand that kind of misogynistic thinking… with his fists.

He pondered Y/N’s reason for being scared for a few more moments, before he glanced down at her and saw how she was peeking at him through her half squinted eyes. And how she abruptly closed them when she was caught.

"She so fucking adorable" he whispers to himself.

Talking was important, but it could wait for a little bit. How could he not play along when she was acting so incredibly cute.

"Oh no, she fainted. I better put her on the bed." Sabo said in a sarcastic tone as he lifted her off the floor.

He noticed how Y/N shifted in his arms, still trying her best to keep her act up. He carefully placed her on the bed and just looked at her for a moment. 

Cute.

"Hmm, what’s that thing they do in fairytales?” Sabo sighed, before he leaned down close to her ear and whispered “Right…maybe she will wake up if I kiss her?" 

Within a second Y/N opened her eyes and shoved him away. A bright red blush had spread over her face, and he couldn’t help but to chuckle at her adorable reaction.

"Oh look, I didn’t even have to kiss her for it to work. Just. Like. A. Princess." 

"PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!" She exclaimed as she sat straight up on the bed, putting her arms in front of her.

‘Ehm- what?’ Sabo was suddenly very confused about what was happening.

"Hurt you? Why the fuck would I do that?" He asked.

"Because you are a Revolutionary, you disdain Nobles. You enjoy torturing them for fun, before you drag them to the guillotine. And you make them read your manifesto over and over, and over. And I'm a freaking Princess, daughter of a cruel, greedy tyrant! Of course you’re going to fucking hurt me!" 

Sabo stared at her with a blank face for a second, before he started to laugh hysterically, bending over with his hands on his stomach. 

"Pfft, hahaha—oh my god, this is too good to be true, hahaha," he laughed, tears lining his eyes. "Fuck- I can't breathe." 

It must have been a minute or two, but he finally calmed himself down after hearing her insane reasoning. God, everything made so much sense now. 

"Is this why you spent the last two weeks pretending to have amnesia? You actually believe in those crazy rumors?" Sabo chuckled as he wiped a tear from his eye "Oh, but the thing about the manifesto is true though. We use it to re-educate all kinds of people that have a messed up world view." 

"But mother told me-" 

"Well, your mom isn’t exactly the brightest. She thought I was a noble coming over for tea when I jumped over the castle gates. That’s how I got in." 

"You do kinda look like a noble." Y/N said, still visibly taken aback by his reaction.

"Yeah... But I also had a fucking metal pipe stuck to my back, which should have set some alarm bells ringing in her head. But she greeted me at the front door herself, happy to have a guest." 

"Mother, dear God." she sighed "Wait- why did you have a mental pipe?" 

"Uhmm... no reason. Don't worry about it." Sabo gave her a closed eyed smile.

The room fell silent.

He felt an anxious feeling growing in his chest. Whatever her reasoning was, this poor girl had still been afraid that he was going to hurt her. 

God, he was such an idiot. It wouldn’t be a surprise if she never wanted to see him again, considering how he had acted these last weeks. The thought of that scared him.

No, either way he needed to apologize. Maybe there was a chance that she would forgive him. And even if she didn’t, he would accept that.

Sabo carefully walked over to the bed, and when he saw that Y/N didn’t move away, he sat down next to her.

"I’m sorry Y/N. I never want to harm you in any way. Fuck, I feel horrible for putting you through that. You must have been so anxious the entire time. And I just thought we were playing a silly game. I promise, I never wanted you to feel that." He said, clenching his fist together.

All he could do was stare down on his knees. Sabo had never felt more ashamed than how he felt right this moment. 

Then, he felt a soft hand touch his forearm.

“I believe you.” Y/N’s sweet voice stated, making him look straight at her in shock.

“Why?” He stuttered, still not believing she was actually forgiving him.

“Hmmm… Because I want to.” She said, giving him a bright smile.

Sabo felt how his chest grew warm, like it did every time he saw that smile. 

Did she not understand the severity of this situation? It would make sense considering how she had been treated all her life. He needed her to understand that it was okay for her to be angry. That it was okay if she never wanted to see him again. That she was free to feel whatever she wanted to feel.

“But I stalked you for two weeks. I trapped you in a supply closet. I pressured you about your name over and over. I even stole your underwear. It’s only logical if you hate me, and-”

“But I don’t hate you. And I do believe you don’t want to hurt me.” Y/N sighed, before a serious expression fell over her face. “Look, have there been times I’ve been scared that something bad was going to happen to me if any of you found out who I am? Yes. But it’s a normal feeling to have when all your life you've been told that the Revolutionary Army tortures Nobles, right?” 

Sabo gave her a small nod, but stayed quiet and waited for her to continue talking.

“But for some reason, even though you have taken pleasure in tormenting me, and don’t try to deny it, there was still a part of me that believed that you never actually wanted to do me any harm. That none of the people in this base wanted to hurt me. And I was driving myself crazy trying to explain that feeling away, Stockholm Syndrome and stuff like that… But I do believe you.” 

“But-” Sabo started to say, but was caught off by a finger flicking his forehead.

"Ughh, no more but! It's okay, I actually wasn’t that scared until you told me you were the Second in Command. And even after that, a part of me still didn’t believe you wanted to kill me." Y/N laughed, which was a reaction not quite fitting her statement

"You thought I wanted to kill you?!" Sabo exclaimed, feeling even more embarrassed over how delusional he had been. 

She nodded in response, letting out a small giggle. 

"And I followed you around like a fucking stalker. Shit, do you know how close I was to breaking into your room last night?" He asked, feeling a warm flush spread over his face.

"You were close to doing what?" 

"Uh-" 

“Pfft- hahaha. It’s kinda fun seeing you embarrassed for once.” Y/N snickered, making Sabo feel relieved.

This was good. By some godsent miracle, she had actually forgiven him and was somehow dealing with the whole situation surprisingly well. He had been given a second chance, and he wasn’t going to screw this up.

All he needed to do now was figure out if she had the same feelings as he did. And this time he was going with brutal honesty. 

___

It felt weird. That the small hope that had been inside her during this entire time was actually true. That Sabo never wanted to hurt her. She knew that the moment she heard his sincere words. Pure relife.

And thank god for that, otherwise she would have looked pretty stupid for sticking around this place so long. Haha, wouldn’t that have been a fun ending to her story. “The naive princess who was tricked and fell in love with the cruel enemy.”

No, she liked this ending much better. The ending where she was just a person, not chained to a title, who was free to love whoever she wanted to.

Even if the love in question was directed towards an undeniably handsome man, but with a sadistic streak. Because there was no denying that fact, Y/N knew that he genuinely took pleasure in tormenting her and seeing her embarrassed. And she was slowly starting to accept that she actually enjoyed it too. Not that Sabo needed to know that.

But she wanted to tell him about the feelings she’s been keeping locked away for these past few weeks. What was she supposed to do? There’s rules and etiquette to follow when it comes to these things. She couldn’t just flat out tell him-

“I love you.” Sabo’s statement cut through her train of thoughts.

“Wha-” Y/N was taken aback. Did he just-

“No scratch that.” He said as he moved closer to her, taking hold of her hand. “What I’m feeling for you is probably closer to an obsession at this point, and I know that sounds like a bad thing, but I promise it’s not. I feel a constant urge to be near you and keep you safe and make you feel loved and cared for and-”

Sabo paused, and she believed she had never seen him look this serious. How could he just say all those things so bluntly? She felt her heart beating faster, and how a warm flush spread over her cheeks.

“And I need to know if I’m just delusional, or if you like me too. Because I was certain you did, up until the moment I realized I’ve been a complete idiot during the entire time I’ve known you. And if you don’t, then that’s okay. I promise I will stop tormenting you... But if there’s even the smallest chance that I can be with you, I need to know.” He said, almost sounding desperate. 

Their faces were so close, Y/N could feel Sabo’s breath on her lips. His hand had left hers and traveled to her waist, carefully keeping it there and moving her slightly closer to him. 

She put her hand against his chest, surprised to feel that his heart was beating as fast as hers. Her body felt hot and she was trying her hardest to formulate a response, and before she knew it a single word slipped past her lips.

“Yes.” She said with a shaky voice, and felt how Sabo’s grip grew firmer on her waist.

“Yes what?” He asked, an almost pleading look in his eyes.

“...I love you.” Y/N whispered, barely audible for anyone but Sabo to hear. 

“Thank God, you don’t know how much I’ve carved to hear you say those words.” He said with a relieved smile, making her heart flutter.

She hardly had time to catch her breath before she felt Sabo’s hand snake to the back of her hair, pulling her into a kiss. It caught her a little off guard, but Y/N felt safe as he took the lead, guiding her down on her back.

As the hand on her waist started to rub small circles through the fabric of her shirt, the kiss grew more intense, and she felt how the now familiar knot in her stomach started to form. She wanted more, to feel more, be closer to him. Her body was moving on its own, her hand grazing over his chest, up to his jaw and gently stroking her thumb over his cheek. 

Suddenly Sabo pulled away, breaking the kiss. She could see a soft pink tint over his face as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Fuck… Okay, you need to tell me now if you want to stop. Because we can, if you want to. But I’m barely keeping it together right now. So, do you want me to continue?” He asked with a heavy breath.

Y/N could only nod, making Sabo chuckle a little.

“Angel, I need to hear you say it.” He said, giving her a reassuring smile.

“...yes.” She answered quietly, growing more and more flustered.

“Hm? Yes, what?” A mischievous smile spread over Sabo’s lips as he cupped her chin and tilted her face up towards his.

“I- I want to continue.” Y/N managed to say. She didn’t want this to end now, before it even started.

“Good, that was all I needed to hear. I promise I will take really good care of you.” Sabo stated as he let go of her chin and leaned back so he was sitting on his knees in front of her.

How did he look so calm and in control? While she was barely keeping it together. Wasn’t they supposed to continue? Why did he move away?

“God, your thoughts are written all over your face. So eager, Angel.” He chuckled, as her face turned red. 

She watched as Sabo took his jacket off and loosened the carvant around his neck. She could see how his eyes roamed over her body, something flickering in his gaze as they met hers. She couldn’t figure out what he wanted her to do. 

“I don’t know what-” She started to say, but Sabo cut her off.

“Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart. I was just a little caught up in thoughts about how cute you look when you're flustered. Don’t worry, you don’t need to think right now, I’ll help you.” He stated. “Now, come here and help me take my gloves off.”

“Okay?” Y/N answered, a little confused about his request, but she moved closer to him and started to pull one of his gloves off, but Sabo moved his hand away.

“No, no Angel. Use your mouth.” He said with a grin over his lips.

“W-what?” 

“Well, I can keep them on if you want to… But I promise it's going to feel much better without the gloves. You want it to feel nice, don’t you?” Sabo asked, and she nodded in response “Okay, so take them off, just like I told you to do it.”

Dear God, I’m about to do the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done in my life.

This devilish man must have some secret power over her, because why else would she be doing this. She cautiously eyed the gloved hands as she swallowed what was left of her pride, and slowly started to tug the glove off with her teeth. The taste of leather felt bitter on her lips as she somehow managed to work the first glove of his hand. 

Without giving her a second to breath, a finger pushed against her mouth, waiting for her to start. Y/N glared at Sabo, but he only gave her a smirk in response. The other glove didn’t come off as easily, and truth be told, she suspected that he was making it harder for her on purpose. 

“There. Happy?” She asked in a snarky tone as she tugged the glove of his hand.

“Very.” He snickered back.

“I don’t understand why you enjoy making me feel embarrassed so much.” Y/N said with a small pout.

“Because it’s fun seeing your cute reactions... And because I know you like feeling that way.” Sabo said as he leaned a little bit closer to her.

“I- I do not!” She exclaimed, moving back further up on the bed.

“No, you do.” he said in a calm tone as he started to unbutton his shirt. “I know because you always rub your thighs together when I make you flustered. And that’s usually a good sign”

Y/N tried to move further away, but suddenly felt a tug around her ankle making her fall flat on her back. She felt how Sabo’s hand started to travel up her leg, as he moved over her, one knee placed between her legs, pressing against her.

And dear god, just that little amount of much needed pressure against the right spot felt so good. An airy moan escaped her lips as the small knot in her abdomen grew.

“Fuck… you make the most angelic sounds when you’re needy.” Something dark flickered in Sabo’s eyes. “God, I’m going to have so. much. fun. with. you.”

___

If heaven made a sound, he was pretty sure that this is what it would sound like.

Sabo’s mind was clouded by his Angel’s sweet sobs as he continued to flick his tongue over her clit, moving his fingers inside of her in a steady rhythm. 

He had lost count of how many times he had made her cum by this point, but seeing the effects it had on her made every orgasm worth it. Legs twitching, hair clinging to her forehead, tears lining her eyes.

It was like he was looking at a piece of art.

Sabo knew he was being cruel. But the sound of her choked out voice in between airy moans and heavy breaths were fucking intoxicating. He could probably do this for hours, if he wasn’t burning up with his own greedy need.  

The need to pin her under him. The need to finally feel her clench around him. The need to put marks all over her body. Proof of how much he loved and adored her. Proof that she was his.

And although he knew that he shouldn’t be thinking it, he felt an overwhelming need to turn her into a completely broken mess. 

But he also knew that it was probably time to give her a break, let her catch her breath and rest against his chest-

“Sabo- please~” Y/N whimpered, clenching around his fingers.

Fuck- 

How was he supposed to ignore that? In the past hour, making her cum had become like an addiction to him. He craved to hear her cry out in pleasure as he helped her reach that high over and over again.  

Just one more.

“Oh, I know it’s a lot, sweetheart. You’re being so good for me. Just one more and then we’re done, I promise.” He heard how Y/N’s voice hitched as he quickened the pace of his fingers.

Wet sounds and loud moans filled his head, melting inside every time his name slipped past her lips in small cries of pleasure. She was squirming, basically grinding against his face. 

And Sabo loved every second of it. He loved that he could make her this way. That he could completely shut her brain off and make her lose herself in the pleasure he was giving her.

And as he felt his Angel’s body tense up once more, Sabo couldn’t resist the urge to gently bite her inner thigh.

He carefully pulled his fingers out and leaned back to look at the beautiful picture in front of him. A red flush over her cheeks. Puffy lips, probably from her biting down on them. Chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. 

“Fucking angelic.” Sabo moaned, taking one more good look before he laid down next to her.

He gently pulled her towards him, letting her head rest on his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair, carefully untangling the mess he had created.

“How are you feeling Angel? It wasn’t too much, was it?” He asked, placing his other hand on her thigh, rubbing soft circles on her skin.

“Nice, so nice~ “ Y/N answered in a soft voice, lightly grazing over his chest with her hand.

“Nice? Maybe we should keep going then-” he felt a slap against his chest “I was just joking, sweetheart. It’s late, and I plan on keeping you trapped with me in this room for at least a few days, so you’re going to need the rest.”

“What?” she asked, already half asleep.

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about it, I’ll show you tomorrow.”

___

This must be the most wonderful-

Wait, no. We’re not doing that again. Last time ended in disaster.

Y/N stretched her legs out as she opened her eyes. God, she felt sore. 

She mindlessly put her arms over her head to relieve the ache, but felt how her hand hit something. She looked up, horrified to see her fist pushed in right under Sabo's jaw, quickly moving it away. 

“Well, good morning to you too.” Sabo said as he stroked the place she had hit. “Was I really that mean last night that I deserved being woken up by a punch?”

“I’M SO SORRY, I DIDN’T-” Y/N stopped herself a thought back on the previous night, and on how much her body ached this very moment. “You know what? You do deserve that.”

“Ouch! My poor heart.” He answered in a dramatic voice, placing his hands over his chest.

All of this was so absurd, she couldn’t help but to laugh. 

Yesterday when she woke up, she had been fully prepared to run away. Almost convinced that the man now laying in her bed wanted to drag her to the guillotine. Afraid that she was going to spend the rest of her life camping out in the middle of the woods. But nothing of that had happened.

Funny how things turn out sometimes. Still, there were some things that needed to be cleared up.

“So, what happens now? I mean, didn’t you say that my so-called father basically surrendered yesterday? Doesn’t that mean that the revolution is over?” Y/N asked.

“Hmm, yeah, kinda… Now it’s just the boring administrative work left. You know, sentencing the bad guys to prison, relocating funds, drafting a new constitution, and whatnot.” Sabo said with a shrug “Oh, but don’t worry. Koala can probably handle that alone for the first few days. We’re not leaving this room unless we really, really need to.”

“You’re not keeping me trapped in here. I need food, and a bath.” She scoffed.

“But I thought you loved me?” He answered with a hurt expression. “Now that I think about it, maybe it’s better if we moved to my room instead. I have snacks we can eat, and a shower.”

“That’s not- nevermind.” Y/N sighed. “We’re getting sidetracked… I mean, what happens after all the administrative stuff is done?”

“Oh, we're going back to Baltigo. The island itself might not be so fun, but don’t worry, everyone at the main base will welcome you with open arms. And you can meet Hack, and Dragon, and all the other members. And you can of course move in with me if you want to, but we can also get you your own room if you would prefer that-”

“Wait, wait, wait. You understand that I’m staying here, right?” She stated.

“What?” Sabo asked with a dumbfounded look.

___

Koala was standing on the stern, looking back at the Island they had lived on for the past month. She thought fondly of the people they had helped liberate from the tyrannical ruler of the country. It always felt good leaving after a successful mission.

“We need to turn around.” Sabo said, suddenly standing next to her.

“FUCK- where did you come from.” She exclaimed.

“Koala, tell them to turn the ship around.” He said in a deadly serious tone.

“Why?” She asked, already knowing what this was about.

“I forgot something…” 

“Mhmm, and what would that something be?” Koala said as she rolled her eyes.

“A stubborn brat who doesn’t know what’s best for her.” Sabo answered through gritted teeth.

“Ah-ah, careful there Mr. Chief of Staff for the Revolutionary Army. Kinda sounds like you want to take away someone’s free will.” She teased, earring a scoff in response. “You want Y/N to live free, right? To make her own choices?”

“...yes.” 

“Exactly. So stop pouting like some spoiled rich kid. Besides, Dragon already agreed that it was safe for you to go visit her between missions. You’ll see her again in two months.”

“But what if she misses me and I’m not there?” Sabo asked in a panicked voice.

“She’ll write you a letter!”

“What if she burns the house down?”

“Dear God, have mercy and give me strength… Oh wait, strength.” Koala chuckled as she slammed her fist down at the top of Sabo’s head. “Stop being an idiot”

She glared at Sabo as he rubbed the spot on his head, before she saw him looking back towards the Island.

“Two months…Just two months.” he sighed, with a faint smile spreading over his lips.

___

Tag list: @nymeriiiia @kitsunechan707 @treelogirl @sukunas-play-thing @coffiviv @inoe-kun-blog @asura0nepiece

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"CUT THE CRAP"

SOOOO I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH TANGERINE

first of all I have to thank @gabrielemillers for letting me use this idea

I hope you like it!

(A photo of his hands because... do I need to explain it?)

You were supposed to hate him.

You hated the way he looked, the way he expressed himself, his eyes too bright to look at directly.

So how had you ended up sitting on his lap?

There was no explanation for it, it had just happened.

Lemon had gone to the dining car, leaving you two alone in the booth his boss had paid for. You had tried to steal their briefcase. Yes, the one they were supposed to protect from people like you.

Every few minutes Tangerine's gaze would focus on you and then look away again, as would yours, until you got tired.

"Stop looking at me."

"I'm not looking at you," he snorted. "Besides, who else do you want me to look at?" We're the only ones here, if we were in first class like normal people I'd be staring at the rest of the passengers and I wouldn't have to put up with you

-You can go if you want, I'll take care of the briefcase - you offered, he pointed at you with his index finger-

-Nice try, but I'm not going to bite again - he whispered, fixing his gaze on you, his eyes narrowed - you can stop pretending now, you know?

-What the fuck are you talking about?

-Cut the crap -he snorted, looking at you intently- I know you don't hate me as much as you want me to believe- he whispered- I think you actually want me to fuck you or let you fuck me, one of two

-You're disgusting -you complained, making a face of disgust-

-No, I'm a realist -he corrected, while patting his legs a couple of times- come here

-I'm not doing such thing

-I told you to cut the crap, I don't buy your role as a spoiled little girl -he said, and the authoritative tone of his voice made you shudder with pleasure from head to toe- you don't have a fucking clue how to act, so stop doing it

-Okay -you agreed tiredly- Do you want me to sit on your lap? I'll do it just to shut the fuck up

You stood up and sat on his lap, just like he'd told you to, with each leg on either side of his hips. You looked up at him, his blue eyes now having an unnatural glint.

"There," you murmured. "Happy?"

He didn't respond, instead he placed his hands on your hips holding you there and slowly pushed his hands up. A muffled moan escaped your lips but you weren't able to help it. Tangerine smiled at the look on your face.

-Look at you, a couple of minutes ago you were complaining about how much you hated me- he reminded you- and now here you are, desperate for my cock

-I'm not desperate for… -he pushed again, making a new gasp leave your lips-… your cock- you finished haltingly, his smile growing wider-

-Your body says otherwise, honey- he said as he slid his fingers under your skirt- Why don't you stop resisting and admit that this is what you want?

-No way- you responded with a growl-

There was no way you were going to let him think you were enjoying it.

His fingers reached the waistband of your panties, making you let out a curse under your breath. Tangerine smiled amusedly. He knew you were dying for him to touch you, but the fact that you were resisting him only made it more interesting.

-You're so wet, love -he whispered, running his thumb over your center- Are you sure you don't want me to take care of it? Because I could -he pressed you, you felt the cold of his rings on the skin of your inner thighs, making you grab his shoulders tighter, he smiled when he noticed your nails digging into his skin, despite the suit jacket he was wearing-

Under normal circumstances he would have complained, because that jacket cost more than your life and his combined, but he didn't say a word.

Because it wasn't a normal situation and because it was YOU who was sitting on his lap.

-you would be so satisfied… -he whispered, tangling his fingers in the waistband of your underwear- I would make sure to get rid of all that tension you always carry on your shoulders-

You didn't answer because you were lost in the sensations you were experiencing. He gently pinched your thigh to get your attention. You looked at him, his blue eyes shining with anticipation.

-This is your last chance, baby, you just have to answer yes or no

“Fuck it,” you thought. You had nothing to lose, but you could gain a lot. A couple of orgasms at least, so you nodded.

“Fuck, yes,” you growled, pressing your lips against his.

His mouth moved masterfully against yours, knowing perfectly how to use them to drive you crazy, as well as his tongue.

You gasped into his mouth when he tugged at your bottom lip between his teeth, before bringing his hands to your skirt and yanking it down along with your underwear.

You did the same to him, and when you sat back down you thought you had died. You felt the pleasure consume you completely, the way he filled you… it was simply out of this world.

His eyes bored into yours when he thrust his hips up into yours.

He was up, following your movements. Within minutes you were a mess of gasps and moans, both of you competing to see who could last the longest without cumming.

Even when fucking you couldn't help but challenge each other.

"I think I'm going to lose this time, baby," he growled, his curly hair falling in messy waves on either side of his face. "I'm going to cum," he warned as you moved on top of him again, making him gasp against you. "Fuck!" he murmured. "You're taking me so well, holy shit." He held your hips with his hands.

"Tangerine…" you gasped, feeling his lips on your neck, kissing your skin. "I'm so close… Shit!" you growled, tangling one of his locks around your index finger.

In the end, neither of you won the bet, you both came at the same time, and you had two orgasms, just as you had predicted.

[naehoonx]

" First Kiss " - caleb [ oneshot ]

→ SUMMARY: since you met caleb again in skyhaven many things had changed. why was your heart beating so fast whenever you were near him? why were your hands getting sweaty whenever he got closer? and why did it bother you so much that he never wanted to make the first move?

→ GENRE: fluff; awkward; innocent; shoujo like love.

→ RATING: 15+

→ NOTE: i started playing LADS last year in december while i was suffering a bad writing block. first i fell deeply in love with zayne but the moment caleb was released .. i resonated with him more? i love the childhood friends to lovers trope + the angst the both of them embodied. the losing and finding each other while still keeping secrets from another. i hope you enjoy it!

♡.°₊ˎ SONG FOR THIS ONESHOT

it was another normal day in skyhaven for you. caleb and you were fighting again, over the most dumb thing, like always. maybe that was a perk of being childhood friends for so long but it was really draining at the same time. you didnt even knew what triggered it this time. the only words which left your mouth were " maybe you shouldnt come with me to this mission." yeah, thinking back to those words, you needed to admit that it was dumb to speak them out loud. considering how caleb could be whenever it concerned your safety. another huff left his lips as he leaned against the kitchen counter, not understanding why you're not wanting him by your side. without him every mission posed as a threat to your safety in caleb's eyes and somehow it irritated you. why was he so overprotective of you and why did it bother you so much that he never spoke it out loud. is it so hard to tell you that he's worried about you?

"you act like a damn child caleb. i can take care of my own and you know that!" your voice was already strained from all the arguing as you looked over at him.

caleb wasnt facing you, instead he was staring at the kitchen counter as he clutched his hand against the smooth surface. you noticed early on that this was some kind of habit of him.

"i know that you can take care of yourself but thats not the issue here" "then what is the issue here? Caleb you never tell me whats wrong, im always .. left with some weird puzzle pieces whenever we fight"

another frustrated huff left his lips as you could see how his fingernails dig into the flesh of his palm. he would hurt himself like this again but at the same time you remembered that he really cant. thanks to that mechanical arm of his, he cant feel anything beside immense pain. so digging his nails inside his palm wont do much damage to his body.

"caleb please" another try to press him to be honest with you and still, he kept looking away from you. carefully you took a step towards him before he finally turned his head into your direction. that was the first time you could see the colour red creeping up his cheeks. was he that angry with you?

"what do you want to hear from me Y/N? Tell me? I already told you that i wont let you go alone there!" "but why not! you never give me a reason!"

frustrated you lifted your arms over your head before you turned around on your heel. before you could take one step forward, into the living room, someones arm wrapped around your waist; pushing you back. it didnt took you long until you realized that caleb stood right behind you, his broad chest pressing against your back. for a moment your breath hitched at the same time your heart nearly bursts inside your chest.

"what do you want to hear Y/N ... tell me" caleb's voice was low as he leaned down to whisper against your ear. his grip tightening more around your waist. making it impossible to escape. your body suddenly starts to mold perfectly against his own. its like the two of you were made for each other. "tell me" goosebumps appeared on your arms as calebs lips nearly brushed against your ear. your whole body freezed on the spot as his hand over from your waist to your stomach. what was happening right now?

"i- ... i just want that you are being honest with me.. you always tell me i shouldnt fight alone and that i should rely on you more but .. why? You know im strong .. " another strong tuck forced your back against his chest. you didnt knew that being this close would be even possible. carefully you put your hand on calebs arm, the arm which held you firm ... the same arm which cant feel any warmth anymore.

now you heard calebs breath hitch. what were you two doing here? once there was a time when the two of you got along well and rarely fought with each other. now the both of you sometimes didnt even knew how to behave around each other. one month ago you suddenly became hyper aware of caleb as a man. suddenly you didnt saw him as some kind of childhood friend anymore .. there was something more whenever you looked at him or stole glanzes while he was working. deep down you had hoped that caleb feels the same way but he still kept treating you like the little girl he once took care of.

as you were deep inside your thoughts, caleb spun you around so you were looking up at him now. his ears were red too now, it looked really adorable. there it was again, that look in his eyes you couldnt put a name on it. Caleb looked helpless as he just kept staring at you, his lips parting just slightly as he wanted to say something. you knew better, he was holding back. probably all the things he wanted to tell you or something else. slowly your hand reached out to touch his cheek. his skin felt hot underneath your fingertips as you slid down to his chin.

"caleb please .. we cant keep fighting like this .. tell me already why you're so scared to let me go alone" pleading was seen in your eyes and maybe thats the reason why he finally broke his silence.

for a short moment caleb closed his eyes as your fingertips still lingered on his chin.

"its hard to put all the things i feel into words .. I- i want you to rely on me more because if you doesnt .. i feel like you will let go of me and walk away ... at the same time i dont want to lock you up here ... knowing damn well you are your own person. dont look at me like that Y/N ... i know you are strong and probably dont need me for anything but .. whenever i think about it .. you not needing me it feels like .. a knife pierces through my heart and i- "

before he could continue with his rambling you put a finger against his lips. all those words were enough for you. he literally opened his heart for you even if it was just a tiny little bit. caleb needed you, he was scared of losing you .. so it was fine to hope right?

biting down on your lip you put both hands against his cheeks. the confused look in his eyes was something you learned to adore. caleb always looked so cute whenever he didnt knew what you were up to now. slowly you got on your tip toes just to be a bit closer to him. your noses nearly touched as caleb took another shaky breath but he didnt dared to speak. if he was too scared to take the next step in your relationship you would do it. even if your heart is nearly bursting at the moment.

another hitched breath as your lips finally got in contact with his own, from that moment on everything was just a blurr. calebs arms wrapped tightly around your body as he captured your lips in a desperate manner. it felt like he was starving all those years and finally got to eat something again. from time to time he broke the kiss for a short moment, just to look at you with those eyes. eyes which were full of yearning, yes yearning. all those years he had looked at you like this and you never noticed it before. the world around you two didnt mattered anymore as caleb, once more, pressed his lips against yours. his own breathing was shaky as his body forced you near the sofa. even if you were stumbling a bit his strong arms were ready to catch you.

the moment the back of your knees touched the sofa, your butt fell onto the soft fabric. this time you got a better look at calebs face as he was hovering over you. one of his arms was placed beside your head against the sofa, so he wouldnt crash on top of you.

"who thought .. you could be this bold y/n .. "

a smirk formed on your face as you wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him closer again "well ... you took too long caleb. a hunter wont wait forever for its prey."

the last thing you saw was a smiling caleb before he dived back in to capture your lips. this time in a much softer and tender kiss.

[thelastspeecher]

Stanuary '25 - Week 4: Healing

I'm a day late but I'm still here! I figured I'd set this one in my Purposeful Abduction AU, in which Ford insists on being abducted by aliens and starts a life on an alien planet as a doctor. Meanwhile, Stan gets abducted by alien traffickers, and manages to escape, but is in very poor shape when he winds up at Ford's hospital.

This prompt is perfect for the AU, and gives me a chance to write Stan's recovery. Which, uh, I wrote a lot of. A lot more words than I thought I would.

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

              Stan hunched over the sterile, futuristic toilet, trying to fend off another wave of vomit.

              “Are you doing all right in there?” Ford’s voice called. Stan retched again, but nothing came up. He groaned loudly. The door to the tiny hospital bathroom opened.

              “Didn’t say you could come in,” Stan mumbled. Ford pulled him up. Stan’s legs, weak from poison and malnourishment, buckled under him once he was on his feet. “I can make it back to the bed.”

              “Sure,” Ford said, infuriatingly patient. He helped Stan back to his hospital bed. Stan immediately curled up into the fetal position, shivering.

              “You poisoned me, I know it,” Stan muttered under his breath.

              “The opposite,” Ford replied. “The antidote for the toxins you ingested yesterday has strong side effects.”

              “Ugh.”

              “Press the call button if you need to be helped to your bathroom again,” Ford continued. Stan rolled over to glare at him. Ford didn’t react, annoyingly remaining in professional doctor mode. “I’ll increase your fluids to compensate for what you’ve been losing from vomiting.” Finally, Ford looked up from the hologram screen of his clipboard. “Get some rest.”

              “Not much else I can do.”

              “Then you should get very good at it,” Ford said shortly. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. The door closed behind him. Stan curled up into a ball as his eyes drifted shut.

-----

              The mysterious liquid concoction in the cup in Stan’s hand was purple. A deep, rich purple. Stan looked up at Ford and the fish-headed alien that Ford had brought in as a “refeeding specialist”.

              “You said this was a chocolate milkshake,” he croaked. Like the rest of him, his voice had taken a beating from malnourishment and poisoning. He hadn’t smoked a cigarette in months, but sounded like he went through a pack a day.

              “It is,” Ford said. Stan shook his head.

              “Nuh-uh. You put blueberries in this or something.” After a day in intensive care, he’d been moved to a general care room, to begin treatment that would help him recover properly. Now that he was no longer in danger of dying.

              “Blueberries don’t exist on this planet.”

              “But chocolate does?”

              “Yes!” Ford said, sounding exasperated. “Centuries ago, visitors to Earth collected chocolate plants and brought them back here. The different environment, however, results in cacao beans that are blue, not brown.”

              “This is purple.”

              “The roasting process turns- oh for the love of-” Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just drink the damn thing. Dr. Quartir is a very busy fish who took time out of its day to observe you consume something for the first time in months.”

              “Not the first thing I ate in months,” Stan said under his breath. “I ate that poison hot dog. That’s why I wound up here.”

              “Stop being difficult. You know what I mean. If you keep this down, it will be the first step in being able to eat properly so you can get back to normal. Don’t you want that?” Ford snapped. Stan stared down at the milkshake again. He swallowed.

              “Yeah, I do.”

              “Then drink the damn thing. Slowly.”

              “Bottoms up,” Stan mumbled to himself. His stomach churning, from either nerves or anticipation, he didn’t know which, he brought the cup up to his mouth. The taste was heavenly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted chocolate so rich. Stan’s eyes widened. He tilted the cup back at a higher angle.

              “Slowly, Stan,” said the fish doctor in its papery thin voice. Stan reluctantly took a small sip instead of the massive gulp he wanted. “Good.” Stan finished the rest of the drink. When he was done, Ford took the cup from him. Dr. Quartir tapped the watchlike band on its wrist. “I’m going to set a timer. If you don’t vomit before it goes off, we can officially introduce ingestible fluids into your diet.”

              “Excellent. Dr. Quartir, should we talk in the hall?” Ford said. “Perhaps give Stan some privacy in case he doesn’t keep it down?”

              “Yes,” Dr. Quartir said. The two exited the hospital room, leaving Stan alone.

              Stan laid back on his bed to stare up at the ceiling. The possibility that he might finally keep something down at this point felt as likely as summiting Mt. Everest.

              But as the minutes passed by and Stan’s stomach didn’t eject its contents, his hopes rose.

              Finally, the door opened. Ford and the fish walked inside.

              “Well?” Ford asked. Stan sat up, unable to fight the grin spreading across his face.

              “Keep the milkshakes coming.”

-----

              Stan grabbed the twin rails. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up out of the hover chair to wobbly stand on his feet.

              “Excellent, Stan, but remember, you have to use your upper body and lower body strength,” said the physical therapist, whom Stan had mentally dubbed Dr. Hardass because he couldn’t remember her alien name. Her voice was robotic, thanks to the translator Stan had to wear to understand and be understood. She was green-skinned, and like the other members of this planet’s dominant species, over seven feet tall.

              Stan had to use the physical therapy equipment designed for children.

              “Even before everything happened, my arms were stronger than my legs,” Stan argued. Dr. Hardass shook her head.

              “Perhaps. But I imagine that your legs could still bear your weight and move you forward,” she pointed out. Stan grit his teeth. “We are focusing upon getting you walking. You cannot rely upon your arms. Now. Come towards me.” Stan muttered a few choice words under his breath. “Stan. If you do not start now, you may never do so.”

              “Fine,” Stan griped. He took a deep breath.

              Your arms are there to help, not to be the only way you stay up. Stan lessened how much he was reliant upon his arms. Immediately, being upright became a lot harder. Fuck. C’mon. You can do this. One foot in front of the other.

              The first step was agonizing. Stan felt like his knees were going to buckle. The second step wasn’t any better. He could practically hear his ankles screaming at him.

              Ultimately, Stan only made it halfway to Dr. Hardass before he had to call it quits.

              “You are doing better,” Dr. Hardass said as she helped him back into the hover chair. “You have a great amount of resilience. Much more than I usually see from my patients.”

              “...Really?” Stan said doubtfully. Dr. Hardass nodded.

              “Before you know it, you will be jogging again.”

              “I wasn’t a runner.”

              “But you did do some form of exercise recreationally.” Stan looked at her, surprised. “I can tell by how easily you understand my instructions.”

              “Oh. Yeah.” Stan looked down at the floor. “Yeah. I did boxing.” He sighed. “And I’d give anything to get back to it.”

-----

              The doors opened with a loud woosh.  Stan stepped inside and looked around, his eyes drinking in the sight of a gym on an alien planet.  Most of the equipment looked similar to what was on Earth, probably because the dominant species of the planet was very similar to humans.  But there were a few things that Stan couldn’t even begin to imagine how they’d be used.  Equipment that looked like bench presses or leg presses, but were in shapes that a human couldn’t physically make.

              The alien accompanying him, Ford’s brother-in-law Lute, chuckled.

              “Your brother had a similar reaction the first time I took him here.”  That got Stan’s attention.  He turned to face Lute.

              “You took Ford to a gym?” Stan asked.

              “He asked.  He was curious about how it would compare to one on Earth.  According to him, it’s very similar.”

              “Yeah.”  Stan looked at a nearby alien doing chin-ups.  The alien looked a lot like Lute to Stan, but he wasn’t sure whether that was because they were both blue. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

              “Ford told me that you have some experience in gyms.”

              “I was the sporty one,” Stan said.  He looked down at himself.  “I guess you’ll just have to believe I’m telling the truth,” he mumbled.  He was still in physical therapy, but now that he was just about fully functional again, his appointments were slowly being phased out.  Fully functional, however, wasn’t good enough for Stan.  Which was why he wanted to go to the gym.

              My legs and arms haven’t been this twiggy since I was five.  I’ve gotta get back to normal.  Or at least close to it.

              “Since you have some experience, I’ll let you lead the way,” Lute said brightly.  “You can suggest what exercises you’d like to do and I’ll let you know if you can do them safely.”  Lute, whose human nickname was apparently from him mishearing Ford’s attempted nickname of “Luke”, was a physiotherapist.  He wasn’t on Stan’s medical team, but due to his expertise, he was the only reason Ford was even allowing Stan to go to the gym.

              Stan didn’t respond well to Ford initially outright telling him he couldn’t go.  Luckily, Ford’s husband, Fiddleford, stepped in to suggest his brother going with Stan.

              I’d probably be lost without a guide anyways.  But it’s the principle of the thing.  I’m not a fucking kid.  Ford shouldn’t treat me like one.

              “Stan?” Lute said, breaking through Stan’s frustrated thoughts.  Stan looked at him.  “Where would you like to start?”

              “Uh…”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  He looked around again.  “It looks like most of the equipment here is too big for me.”

              “I would agree,” Lute said with a nod.  He put an arm around Stan’s shoulders.  “Don’t worry, I run into the same issue all the time.”  Though Lute was more than a foot taller than Stan, he was considered abnormally short for his species, as was his twin sister.

              “I was gonna ask if you guys have any boxing equipment, but that would probably be too big anyways,” Stan muttered.  Lute frowned at him.

              “Boxing?” he asked.  Ford had taught all his in-laws English, so Stan and Lute didn’t need to use a translator to communicate.  But every now and then, Stan would use a term that Ford hadn’t bothered to teach.  Stan sighed.

              “It’s the sport I did back on Earth.  It involves a lot of punching.”

              “Punching?!”  Lute looked shocked.  “That’s a sport on your planet?”  Stan nodded.  “Ford didn’t tell me that.”

              “Yeah, well, he wasn’t very good at it,” Stan said under his breath.  Lute snickered softly.  “I’m gonna guess you don’t have anything I could punch.”

              “Hmm.”  Lute frowned.  “No, there’s some equipment I can think of that would be beneficial to working the muscles involved in a punching sport.  Some of it is even accessible to your size.  This gym caters to multiple species, after all, and while my species doesn’t engage in bloodsport, some of the smaller species on this planet do.”

              Bloodsport?  Okay, whatever.  Focus on the important thing.

              “There’s stuff here that would help me get back to boxing?” Stan asked.  Lute tilted his head one way, then the other.

              “I believe so.”

              “Great.  Take me there,” Stan said eagerly.  Lute shook his head.

              “It’s too rigorous for you right now.  You need to start off doing something that you can do slowly and gently.”

              “Like what?” Stan grumbled.

              “Swimming, perhaps.  Do you like to swim?”

              “…Yeah.”

              “Great!”  Lute beamed at him, showcasing the haunting needlelike teeth that his species had.  “Then let’s go swim!”  He leaned in.  “Ford told me that our swimming pools are different from those on Earth.  Apparently yours aren’t on the ceiling?”  Lute shook his head in disbelief.  He began to walk away.  Stan stood still for a few moments, processing what he had just said.  Finally, he gaped and chased after Lute.

              “Your swimming pools are where?!”

-----

              “Yeah, Uncle Stan, punch that thing!”  Stan grinned at the encouragement from Ford’s oldest child, Proteus.  He slammed his fist into the punching bag, eliciting a cheer from his nephew.  “Wow!”  Stan stopped to catch his breath.  He wiped the sweat from his face and turned to face his small audience.

              “You’re good,” said Lee, Ford’s nephew via his sister-in-law, Angie.  And, depending on how things went, one day via Stan.  Lee looked like the other members of the dominant species on the planet, with the exception that he had human-looking eyes, a trait randomly inherited from his human great-grandmother.

              “Can you teach us?” Proteus asked.  He was technically adopted by Ford and Fiddleford, but thanks to his shapeshifting abilities, often looked like he could be their biological child.  That was the case today.  Stan had insisted if they came to Human Town with him, Proteus couldn’t take his natural shape.  Too many of the inhabitants of Human Town, a part of the capital city inhabited by abductees from Earth and their descendants, had negative emotions related to Proteus’s species.

              Including Stan.  The trafficker that had abducted him years ago was the same species as his nephew, currently staring up at him with starry eyes.  Stan would die for his nephew.  But still, seeing him in his natural state was too much.

              “I might be able to show you two a couple things,” Stan said idly.  “I mean, I’m the only one on the planet who can teach you.”  He winked at Proteus and Lee.  “I’ll even do it for free.”  Proteus and Lee giggled.

              After Stan had become healthy enough to get back into boxing, he’d run into the issue of there not being anywhere he could train.  The lack of opponents was another potential problem, but the more pressing one was Stan not being able to get his hands on a speed bag.  Luckily, one of Ford’s brothers-in-law was a carpenter, who knew someone that made custom exercise equipment and furniture.

              Then, one day while at a bar in Human Town, Stan mentioned his boxing equipment to someone.  That person happened to own the only gym in Human Town, and insisted Stan set up some demonstrations for any humans interested in learning about an Earth sport unheard of on this planet.  Things snowballed from there, and now, Stan had a steady job as a boxing trainer at the gym.

              Lee handed Stan his towel.  As Stan was drying off, there was a polite cough.  Stan dropped the towel and looked over at the doorway to the room.  Ford stood there, a wistful look on his face.

              “Hey, Sixer,” Stan greeted him.  Ford nodded his head.

              “I see the boxing is still going well.”

              “Oh, yeah.  Being an ‘exotic’ human that knows things about ‘exotic’ human culture is a pretty big draw around here,” Stan said.  Ford nodded.  “Have you told your kids you used to box, too?”

              “What?” Proteus said eagerly.  He looked over at Ford.  “Really?”

              “Our father signed us up for lessons when we were young,” Ford said.  “But Stanley was always better than me.”

              “Yep.”  Stan raised an eyebrow at Ford.  “We should put on an exhibition match.”

              “Ah.  No.”

              “Oh, c’mon!  We’d make a killing!”

              “I don’t have any interest in putting on an exhibition match with you,” Ford said firmly.  “You’ll just have to wait until one of your students reaches that skill level.”  He paused.  “Or until someone abducts a boxer.”

              “Second one would probably happen sooner,” Stan grunted.  “My students are too scared to put much power behind their hits.”

              “Such is the difficulty of teaching,” Ford said sagely.  Stan rolled his eyes.  “Proteus, Lee, are you ready to go?”

              “Yep!” Proteus said, hopping off the bench he and Lee had been sitting on.  Lee nodded and slid off as well.

              “Excellent.”  Ford looked at Stan.  “Enjoy your date with Angie.  Where are you taking her?”

              “That hole in the wall place on Zerbz Street.”

              “Earthling Eatings?” Ford asked.  Stan nodded.  “I’ve never been.”

              “You’ve gotta go there sometime.  They’ve done some crazy sh- stuff with Earth food,” Stan said, barely remembering to censor himself.

              “It’s good!” Lee piped up.  Ford smiled at him.

              “Stan has taken you there?” he asked.  Lee nodded.

              “I went, too!” Proteus said.  Ford ruffled his son’s hair.

              “If it has the seal of approval from the two of you, perhaps we should go there for dinner sometime.”  Ford waved at Stan.  “I’ll see you after your date.”

              “Yep.  See you later.”

              “Bye!” Lee and Proteus called.  The kids and Ford left.  The large, circular door closed behind them.  Stan sighed.  He looked down at the electronic band on his wrist.  It almost completely covered the scar from his poaching cuff.  It was glowing slightly, signaling that he had a message.  He tapped the band.  A hologram display lit up above the band with the message from Angie.

              “I’ll be there in twenty.  I can’t wait to try food from your culture.”  Stan grinned.  He pulled up the hologram keyboard and typed out a response.

              “Make it thirty if you want me showered.”  After a few seconds, the reply came back.

              “Deal.”

              Stan waved away the hologram screen.  He grabbed his all-in-one soap and began to head for the showers, whistling.  His band chimed again.  He tapped on it.  The hologram screen popped up again, this time displaying a picture.  Stan froze.

              The bands required profile pictures for all users.  When Stan first got this band, it wasn’t long after he was discharged from the hospital.  Thus, the profile picture was of him near his lowest point.  His face was gaunt, his hair stringy, his skin pale.  He barely recognized himself then, and he barely recognized the picture as himself now.

              At the bottom of the picture was an automated message.

              “It has been two years since you set your profile picture.  Would you like to change it?”

              Stan went to press the button to open the camera.  He paused.  After a moment, he shook his head.  He closed out of the notification.

              “Nah.  I’ve got a date to get ready for.”

[bosspigeon]

once i get my ottoman and complete my cozy little reading nook it's over for you hoes

[beanswithbones]

.

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

last years pride i had a sexuality crisis and this year a few days later im having a gender one. fuck.

[xhda1449x]

ok apparently 30 tags is the limit on tumblr and I'm putting it here because I couldn't put it in the tags

for my own curiosity, because my tragedy enjoying boggles the minds of a bunch of my irl social circle.

[seventh-district]

sometimes i wanna engage more in fandom but then i wade into the tags and quickly find myself surrounded by a sea of negativity and callouts and discourse and unspoken rules and dni lists a goddamn mile long. and so i wade back to shore and me and my social anxiety crawl back into our quiet, peaceful little cave

[classyrbf]

thinking about movie night with nanami. You’re sitting in his lap comfortably, head resting on his shoulder while you giggle at the movie. But nanami doesn’t care for the movie when two of his thick fingers are plunged deep inside of your pussy. He’s moving them so slowly, teasing you as he pumps them in and out. Every now and then you’ll grip onto his arm that’s holding you in place, getting too distracted before he corrects you. “Focus on the movie, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear all while massaging your g-spot. He’s so cruel to you but he’s enjoying playing with you. Your eyes will slip down to where his fingers are, can’t help but stare at the way his fingers disappear into your sopping hole. You see them glisten with the glow of the tv light and bite down on your bottom lip as grow needier for more. “Eyes up.” He guides your chin up, holding your jaw in place. With every passing minute you feel yourself growing wetter and wetter, and your heart beat faster and faster sneaking glances and letting out stifled whimpers every now and again.

The pads of his fingers run up your slit, rubbing your swollen clit in small circles making you tense up. A shaky breath escapes your throat, and you’re trying your best to focus on the movie but it’s so hard to when he’s whispering such filthy things in your ear. “You want my fingers back inside that pretty pussy? I bet it feels so good to be stuffed full, huh?” He smirks against your skin. All you do is nod, gently grinding your hips against his hand because you’re done playing by the rules. You reach for his wrist, moving his hand downward back to your fluttering hole. “Is that where you want me?” He breathes against your skin. Just before you could answer he plunges his fingers back inside, your pussy making the most lewd squelch ever. “Just lean back and feel good, darling.” He held you against him tightly while he worked you open with his fingers, pressing and dragging his fingers against your g-spot with more pressure.

“Hear that?” He dragged his fingers in out of your soaked cunt, a wave of embarrassment washing over you at how wet you were. “Is this all for me? If so, it’d be a shame if I didn’t get a taste.” His fingers reached up to his mouth, sucking your juices off like you were the best thing he’s ever tasted. Your body shuddered in anticipation, as he brought his fingers back down to your pussy, gathering more of your slick. “Have a taste, baby.” Without hesitation you opened your mouth, feeling his fingers lay flat on your tongue where you tasted yourself on him. “Tastes good, doesn’t it? Such a good girl for me.” He grabs your chin, planting his lips on yours, his tongue sliding past your lips and into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss as he began fingering you again, going faster than he was before.

You pull away, breathing heavily as you feel yourself growing closer to cumming. “Ken,” you whimper, your nails digging into his forearm while your legs begin to shake. “Oh fuck,” you squeak, your jaw slack as you become mesmerized by the view in front of you. Nanami kisses your neck gently, watching as well, feeling the way your walls tighten around him.

“I can feel it, sweetheart. Tell me how badly you wanna cum,” he huskily says, moving his fingers faster on purpose.

“Please, let me cum! I need it so bad, Ken! You always make me feel so good, baby,” you cry out, your chest moving up and down rapidly.

“Good girl. Let it out for me.” As if on command, clear liquid gushes from your cunt, soaking his hand and couch in the process but he doesn’t dare stop. “There you go, sweetheart. There you fucking go.” He kisses you tenderly as he drags every last bit of your orgasm out of you until your entire body is shaking. He removes his fingers, gently slapping your messy pussy, chuckling when you whine at the sensation. His thumb toys with your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “What a mess you’ve made.” He clicks his tongue at you.

“You’re no fair!” You pant, gasping when applies pressure to your clit.

“I think a thank you would be better. What do you think?” He looks at you with fox like eyes, and you can’t help but stare back with such desperation.

“Thank you,” you mutter under your breath.

“Atta girl.” He slaps your pussy a few more times causing you to buck your hips. “Now, keep watching the movie. I’m not finished playing with you.”