enigma-absolute · 9 months ago
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#rough day today with an emotional mess at the end#rough as in it wasn’t BAD just… I had low energy the entire time and lost the day really#I don’t know how my mom does it. she has it worse than me and she expects me to be more bounding and alive and USING my energy#buddy. pal. I got rude and angry because I was LOW and I DO NOT HAVE YOUR PAIN TOLERANCE THRESHOLD#on MULTIPLE levels. physical and emotional#you went to dental school in Otago in the 90’s. I did animation school 2019-2023.#you escaped communism and were a stranger in a strange land and married my father who became a bat from hell and you had to escape him#AND keep the kids in good schools and in God.#I didn’t. I was the child who had it worst on the spectrum and had the PTSD to crawl out of during high school.#of course THAT put a dampener on me growing up in several ways (and uh. being on this hellsite in 2014 didn’t help either)#mom I love you and you love me. we are clearly NOT the same ever#I’m a little over the age dad married you at first now. I do not have the same threshold nor tolerance as you. I AM more sensitive yeah#and I’m trying to work through it but damn it it is hard trying to stay soft in a world getting crueller.#and yet! I have my father’s face and eyes in anger! I wish I could be more kind and loving on low energy and I’m sorry!#I am genuinely an ass when I’m tired and ticked off and want none of your help and I wish I wasn’t! alas!#I do not! have! your threshold nor tolerance!#when I finally get myself together and have a full place to call my own. with bills and all to pay.#I will finally allow myself the relief of lying down onto the kitchen floor and sobbing.#in the knowledge and safety of solitude.#Chris rambles#AUGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH#vent
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sweetkpopmusings · 3 months ago
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stray kids soulmate aus | b. chan <3
a/n: i was knocked out by a migraine for days and the main motivation for me to get better was so i could write this au :,-) i love sweet chan and this prompt in particular has been a favorite of mine my whole life !!! i hope you enjoy it <33 pics not mine~
content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.8k | warnings: none really! some mentions of food | pairing: soulmate!chan x gn!reader | requests: open
♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡
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soulmates meet in dreams every night, but your paths won’t cross in waking life until the time is right.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
whenever chan had a rough day, he would crave sleep more desperately than on his worst insomniac nights. today was one of those days. he couldn’t say that it was a bad day, but they were nearing the end of the tour, so his emotions and physical exhaustion were running high. he rushed through his nighttime routine, aching to fall asleep and see your face. he knew that, even if it were brief, being with you would keep him from completely falling apart.
“it’s about time you showed up!” you teased, grinning at chan when he walked into the living room you two designed.
“i’m really sorry, y/n,” chan sighed, falling onto the sofa, “these last few shows have messed with my sleep schedule more than i expected. i feel so bad that i haven’t been around as much.”
your heart broke when you saw his frown, “chan, i’m not mad. please don’t feel bad. i just miss hanging out with you, and this is the only place i can do it. i’m grateful for any time we get together during your busy schedule!”
“y/n…” chan’s frown turned into an adorable pout, “that makes me feel even more guilty. you can’t be so nice and understanding!”
you laughed when he put his head in his hands. you wrapped him into a hug, appreciating the giggles that escaped his lips at the close contact. 
“i miss you more,” chan mumbled against your clothing.
you shook your head, which, surprisingly, chan noticed, “don’t disagree with me! it’s true!”
chan smiled widely when he saw you laughing. he paused to enjoy the sound of your laughter. then, once your laughs quieted, he held both of your hands in his.
“i promise that i’ll rest a ton once i’m back from tour, okay? i’ll be on break for a while, so i’ll make sure i am at your beck and call every time you sleep. i’ll do everything i can to make it up to you, to make up for the lost time. i swear.”
the combination of his grasp and sincere gaze was almost overwhelming. chan always made promises with his full heart, and you knew that to be especially true right now. 
“i believe you,” you smiled, which prompted chan’s shoulders to relax, “thank you, chan. you don’t have to make it up to me. but you do need to get some more rest. i don’t want to have to scold you to take care of yourself the first time we meet!”
“you’re going to anyway, no matter what i do,” chan teased, laughing hysterically at your glare.  
you moved the conversation into lighter topics, soaking up his presence. though the visit was once again fleeting, you two enjoyed your time together. it was always healing to be with chan. whether you spent your dreams seeing the world or relaxing in a familiar space, you woke up feeling rested, all thanks to spending the night with your other half.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
after chan returned from tour, both of you happily settled into your normal routine. he kept his promise of resting more, much to your delight. rather than having to rush conversations, you could enjoy each other’s company throughout the night, only parting when your alarm went off in the morning. it was easy, natural. of course, there were days when the sunlight hit your eyes and left you feeling empty because that action alone separated you from your person. most days though, you beamed with gratitude because chan was recovering from his strenuous tour and returning to the happy-go-lucky man you knew him to be. 
last night’s dream was particularly wonderful. you and chan strolled around your favorite neighborhood while he told you all his favorite stories from tour. your heart always soared when you listened to the way he talked about seeing stays and joked about the antics he and the boys got up to while traveling. truly, the best part of it all was seeing him happy. the sparkle in his eyes and the upbeat tone of his voice were like a rush of sugar, the sweetest thing in the world. you confessed this to chan when a comfortable silence fell over you, and the last thing you heard before waking up was the sound of him giggling, highlighted by chan’s blushing skin.
perhaps it was chan’s sweetness that had you craving a treat as soon as you opened your eyes. stretching and soaking in the peacefulness of the late morning, you decided to go to your favorite bakery. it was the weekend, after all, and you wanted to do everything you could to maintain the happy mood chan put you in. after getting ready, you made your way to the bakery. the familiar route allowed your mind to wander, unsurprisingly to thoughts of your sweet soulmate.
the first dream you shared with chan was when you were six years old. you swung back and forth on the swingset in a quiet playground, covered nicely by the shade of a large tree. from beside you, a voice you had never heard before asked can i swing here too? you looked over, curious and unalarmed. when you saw the boy with curly brown hair smile shyly at you, you felt the tiniest of butterflies flutter in your stomach. you nodded, introducing yourself when he sat down on the swing next to you, i’m y/n. what’s your name? he grew more confident after hearing your voice, grinning charmingly as he said, i’m chan. it’s nice to meet you, y/n. you two watched the clouds float by, calling out the shapes you saw. in your childhood innocence and bravery, you suddenly asked, are you my soulmate? even as an adult, you could never forget the way chan’s ears turned bright red. how heartwarming it was for him to blush at the word “soulmate!” you didn’t need to hear him say yes, because the pink on his cheeks and the hopefulness in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. you wondered, heart pounding in your chest, if he’d look at you like that the first time he saw you in the real world.
the sound of the bakery door’s bell ringing snapped you out of your reverie. you inhaled the decadent smells of the shop, fresh baked warmth fit for a saturday. your lovestruck thoughts of chan could wait. you had business to attend to. 
you greeted the employees, browsing the items on display. you took your time, selected your treats, and paid at the register. the place wasn’t too full, so you figured you could take a seat at a table near the window to appreciate the cozy ambience for a bit. you scanned for the closest empty table, nearly falling over when you locked eyes with someone.
well, not just someone. chan.
your mouth opened, but you couldn’t produce anything more than a few stammering syllables. chan’s eyes were wide with shock, quickly twinkling with happiness. soon, he started laughing. the sound bubbled out of him as though he were a child set free in a candy store, delighted beyond belief. you started laughing too. before people started to stare, chan waved you over to his table, pulling out a seat just for you.
“fancy seeing you here,” chan giggled through the cheesy line.
you rolled your eyes, smile never leaving your face, “don’t get me wrong. it is absolutely the best surprise in the world to see you here right now. but how does drinking a large coffee count as resting?”
chan lifted the coffee cup between you two, “oh this? i only got this because i couldn’t find a nap buddy anywhere. it looks like my luck might have changed though.”
he winked, making you blush and giggle like a teenager. not wanting to let him have all the fun, you grinned and replied, “i guess my first official duty as your soulmate is getting you to take a nap, isn’t it?”
now it was chan’s turn to blush. your body flooded with fondness, seeing the way his ears turned bright red at the word soulmate as it had when he first heard you say it. chan accepted your order when they called out your name, excitedly commenting on how good your taste was. the pep in his step was visible, though anyone who saw you would say that your pace matched his exactly. you two practically skipped the whole way back to your place, conversation flowing as though seeing each other was your plan all along. 
“can we take a second to talk about how crazy this is? that we finally met? after all these years, we’ve been only a handful of miles away from each other, and we met today?”
chan’s expression was full of glee and disbelief, and you agreed with his sentiment fully, “they really aren’t lying when they say you won’t meet until the time is right,” you paused, reminding yourself that this moment was real, “i do think it’s ridiculous we’ve practically been neighbors this whole time though. no wonder it always felt strange when you were on tour.”
chan pouted, “don’t remind me…that’ll make me feel even worse about leaving…” then, a smile replaced his pout, “at least now we know that every time i come back from traveling, i’ll be coming home to you!”
you returned his smile, only looking away to unlock your door. you slipped off your shoes and made room for chan to come inside. while you’ve dreamt of chan your whole life, nothing was more surreal than seeing him in your home. he looked so much like he belonged there, as though he had been inhabiting the space for as long as you. yet you stood there, staring, unable to believe that your dream had finally come true.
“what are you staring at, mon rêve?” chan asked, smiling sweetly.
“it’s just…” you walked across the room, meeting him halfway, “i can’t believe you’re here.”
chan hummed in agreement. without another word, he intertwined your hands, looking at you intently. you led him to your favorite nap spot, adjusting it so everything was just right. instinctively, your bodies molded together, finding comfort in the shared embrace. mere seconds after thank you left chan’s lips, you both slipped into sleep, breaths falling into your natural harmony.
you weren’t sure how much time had passed when you opened your eyes. it was strange, almost unnerving, to wake up from a dream that did not include chan. before the panic or sadness could settle in, you looked over to the man in your arms. you stared in awe at his lips curling up ever so slightly, his hair in disarray, and his chest rising to the beat of the precious heart you belonged to. every little detail of chan was at your fingertips, and it was more beautiful than any dream you had ever had.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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tojisth3rdwife · 5 days ago
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Part 2
a/n: this one is probably 40% smut parts here. Pregnant sex is the bees knees, speaking from experience. A 💋 will mark where it starts and ends in case you want to skip it. There will definitely be a part 3 lol
BabyDaddyToji was enjoying your pregnancy more than you were.
For starters, and not to be crude but the sex was unmatched. Toji had a thing for cumming inside of you raw before but now?? With the only motivation not to no longer being relevent, there wasnt a day where Toji didnt want to be inside of you.
Granted, he wasnt jumping your bones 24/7. Especially in the beginning. He let you set the tone for that based on your mood. And it was rough in that first trimester. It seemed like as soon as you confirmed the pregnancy , every symptom in the book hit your ass like a mack truck.
You slept majority of the day.
You spent many mornings, afternoons and evenings face down in the toilet.
Your mood was unpredictable, although you did your best not to crash out and frighten Megumi or take it out on Toji.
Even when you did, Toji didnt take it personally.
You’d been snippy with him all night over the smallest things.
He closed the door too loudly when he came in the bedroom, not helping your hormonal headache whatsoever. When he asked you how you were feeling, it was returned with an attitudinal “How the fuck do you think I feel? I cant eat. Im always tired. My back hurts. My head hurts. The dog’s wont stop barking..” you trailed off. Toji approaches where you were now sitting up at the edge of the bed, bent over with your face in your hands.
You were a mess. Your hair. Your skin. You just felt gross and overly emotional, something that was so unlike you. Toji knew it, but unlike you, he at least understood why.
The tears were already flowing by the time he joined you on the bed, reaching for your hands to pull away from your face.
“N-no Toji....” you sniffled, attempting to hide yourself from Toji as he gripped your wrists gently. He smiled as you fought against his strength pointlessly , and he pulls you into him for a hug he knew you needed.
Mind you, Toji was far from perfect. There were plenty of times when he didn’t know how to comfort you or the right thing to say at the right time. But being with you over the years improved his sense of compassion and empathy towards others, meaning you were no exception.
Toji rubbed your lower back, pulling your body as close as he could.
“Im sorry, baby. Seems like today is kicking your ass..” he says with his lips in your messy hair. You chuckle dryly at the sentiment, sniffing back the snot threatening to dribble from your nose.
“Yeah.” You sigh. Toji hums against your crown, slipping his fingers under the elastic waistband of your leggings. Not in a suggestive or sexual manner, just to hold you better. He sat with you for a few seconds in silence before asking you if you wanted him to get out so you could rest.
“No…” you mutter, clutching his t-shirt. You gave in to his embrace and nuzzled his chest, your breath stuttering from the sudden rush of emotions. Toji smirks.
You were so cute when your were stubborn.
In other news…
Your body was gradually changing. Too much in appearance , although your tits were gigantic now, but more in how you felt and responded to your environment.
For starters, nothing tasted or smelled the same, in good and bad ways alike.
The smell of cooking/ grilled meats? ❌
The scent of certain cleaning products and laundry detergents?✅
Megumi’s dogs? (Although you still loved them to pieces) ❌
The sweet and savory combo of pizza and strawberry toaster strudels stacked on top of eachother with the frosting and marinara sauce melding together? ✅
The smell of Toji’s favorite instant ramen? ❌
Eggs? ❌
Yogurt? ❌
Chocolate? ❌
The scent of anything Toji related? His cologne? His after shave? His sweaty shirts straight from the gym? ✅✅✅
But despite all of that, especially once the sickness and exhaustion began to taper out as you entered the 2nd trimester, you were horny.
Like VERY horny, tracking back to the opening statement..
And fuck, Toji loved it.
💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋
He’d barely made it inside after returning from dropping Megumi off at school before your hands were at his belt.
“Whoa..” Toji’s brows shot up as well as his hands when you made quick work of undoing his pants and pulling his dick out. He wasnt even hard yet and he still felt heavy in your hand as you stroked him slowly.
Lips at his neck and your other hand pushing his shirt up, you mumbled against his skin.
“I want you so bad it hurts..”
And it did. The spike in hormones, coupled with the increased blood flow down there made everything feel 10 times more intense. All Toji had to do was kiss you and you felt your inner thighs become slippery against each other from his wet you were. After a simple ‘brb’ smooch on his way out the door to take Megs, your clit was engorged and your gummy walls clenched in need of him.
You tried rubbing one out but you were too frustrated to get yourself there.
You needed release.
You needed him in the worst way.
Toji groaned as your expert touch had his dick jumping and swelling to life with every stroke of your hand.
“Hurts?” He frowns at your choice of words. You paused trying to undress him to take Toji’s hand and guide under your large sleep shirt to cup your sex. You had soaked through the fabric of your panties and just Toji’s touch had your walls pulsing.
“Fuck..” he exhaled,taking the initiative to rub your puffy clothed lips as if to sooth you. But all it did was rile you up even more.
“See?” You whimper and Toji cusses under his breath again.
“Shit, babe…How are you always this fucking wet? Hmm?” He tilts his head, now the one taking the reigns.
“Toji..” your breath hitched, breaking and stalling as the rough pads of his fingers rubbed yiur clothed pussy. His fingers found tiny hill of your clit pressing through your panties and he circles it slowly. You gripped his flexing forearm desperately, breathy moans leaving you as your back collides with the wall adjacent to the front door, with Toji’s height eclipsing you in his shadow. He speeds up his antics, all while pressing his lips to your pulse in a gentle kiss.
By the way you keened in his ear, Toji was sure of one thing.
“Gonna cum right here? Right now?” He asks, strumming his middle and index over your civered clit faster. You nod with you mouth agape, digging your nails into Toji’s arm.
“Yesyesyesyesyesbabyplease..fuck..”
Your knees buckled as the wave of pleasure washed over you, a gush of slick staining the your underwear. Anyone walking by outside definitely heard your cry of ecstasy, but Toji never gave a damn about his neighbors.
“Shit..c’mere” he pulls you towards him by the throat for a sloppy breathless kiss, licking into your mouth and catching every moan off your tongue as he rubs your sensitive folds over your drenched panties.
Without warning, Toji picks you up like you weigh nothing to carry you in the room, tossing you on the bed to fuck the ache out of your pussy until it was damn near time for Megumi to get out of school.
But as you began to show around week 14-15, Toji was more mindful of how he handled your body. You assured him that you could take it and encouraged him to go harder, but it was pointless. He was just too damn big and you seemed way too fragile to be bent in half and pounded the way he used to.
The tenderness was welcomed in exchange though..
As much as you loved your belly, you hated how it blocked your view of Toji eating you out. Watching his tongue glide over your puffy lips and clit made you even wetter and Toji lapped it straight from the source. He groaned at the taste of you. Not that he didnt love your pussy’s flavor before you were pregnant but there was something more intense about it now. Even your scent was more potent and addicting, having him thinking about burrying his face between your legs all damn day.
Toji ate your pussy like his life depended on it, swirling his tongue over the hood of your clit and flicking its underside in the way he knew would make you shake.
“Mmmhmm” he moaned against you, hugging your thighs and caressing your baby bump affectionately.
You’d attempted to crane your neck to get a glimpse of what he was doing in the beginning but now you just surrendered to the fact that you wouldnt be seeing anything down there without a mirror for a while.
That was ok though.
Allowing yourself to focus only on what Toji’s lips and tongue did to you made cumming on his face most enjoyable for the both of you.
💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋
“Are you ready to know the sex?” your doctor asks from behind the monitor. You glance at her in surprise, even though you knew the question was coming.
Toji hated that he couldnt be there and damn near walked out on a job if you hadnt convinced him to stay and focus.
But you really wished he was here.
“Could you write it down and put it in an envelope for me?” you asked, doing your best to keep your gaze from traveling over to the big mounted screen on the wall, and your doctor obliged.
That way when you took it to the bakery and asked them to pipe the corresponding color frosting in a pre made jumbo cupcake, it would be a surprise both you and Toji could share.
Taglist: @queendessi24 , @xllizs, @whoreforjjkmen , @hellokittyloverrxox .
Part 1 <<<<<
Part 3 (soon)
The Fushiguro’s <<<<<
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rainbow-nerdss · 6 months ago
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Buck goes over to Tommy's place late one morning, coffees in hand. They agreed to go out today, maybe go for a walk in a nearby park or something, no solid plans for the day other than spending it together.
When Buck gets there, though, he feels something is wrong. The curtains are closed, for one thing. And when Buck knocks, he doesn't hear any immediate movement towards the door. Usually, Tommy opens the door before Buck even makes it up the drive.
But today, Buck knocks, and he waits.
Had Tommy gotten held late at work? Buck knows he had a shift that was supposed to end a few hours before, but maybe he got stuck with overtime and didn't have a chance to call or text. But his car is there, in the same place it always is, and there hasn't been anything on the news about any major disasters.
Buck knocks again and considers calling or texting when he finally hears shuffling on the other side of the door, then the jingle of keys before the door opens.
Tommy is... A mess, honestly.
His hair is sticking up in every direction, old sweatpants with a hole at the knee, and a worn out old hoodie which Tommy shoves his hands back into the pockets of when he sees Buck.
"Hey, Evan." He swallows, voice think with some heavy emotion. "I'm so sorry, I... I forgot we had plans today, I—" he's hunched into himself, and he looks smaller than Buck's ever seen him.
"Tommy," Buck reaches for him with the hand that isn't holding the coffee cups. "What happened? Are you okay?"
Tommy shrugs, hesitating before stepping aside to let Buck in. "Rough shift," he says after an extended silence. "Everyone... The team all made it out, but... We lost someone. I lost someone."
Buck sets the coffee cups down on the entrance table and pulls Tommy into a hug, tucking his head into his shoulder and holding him tight. Slowly, Tommy's hands raise enough to wrap around Buck's waist.
"I don't think I'm gonna be much company today," Tommy sniffs after a while. Buck can feel a wet patch on his shoulder, but doesn't mention it.
The fact that Tommy trusts him enough to be this vulnerable with feels like something sacred, something he's been searching desperately for. Up to now, Tommy has been the one adjusting to make space for what Buck needs, but it's time for Buck to step up, to be there for Tommy.
"I get it, but I'm here." Buck kisses Tommy's cheekbone, just below his eye and he tastes the salty tang of tears there. "If you'd rather be alone, I-I get it. I can go home, and we can reschedule this. But, Tommy, I don't care if all we do is sit on your couch in the dark, okay? Whatever you need, I'm here."
Tommy holds Buck tighter for a moment.
"Evan," he says, in the same way he always says it. Like it's a something precious and delicate and wonderful. Buck's not sure where it came from, but he adores it.
"What do you usually do after a bad shift?' Buck asks.
Tommy sniffs, and it takes a while to answer. "Usually..." He clears his throat. "Usually I curl up in bed or on the couch and watch a rom-com. I know, it's a little—"
"Don't you dare say it's embarrassing," Buck warns, cupping Tommy's jaw and running his thumb over the stubble there. "Go make yourself comfortable, drink your coffee, pick a movie. I'll make us some snacks and join you in a minute, okay?"
Half an hour later, Buck settles on the couch—the coffee table full of popcorn, chopped vegetables and dips to snack on.
Buck reclines against the arm, and pulls Tommy on top of him, head on his chest. It's a tight fit, but from the way Tommy settles into him, Buck knows it's what he needs.
Tommy hits play, and Buck smiles at the opening monologue. "Love Actually?" He asks.
Tommy makes a sound, a soft sort of hum. "It's... kind of my favourite," he admits.
Buck smiles and kisses the top of Tommy's head, then replaces his lips with his fingers, running them over Tommy's scalp.
"That's really cute."
Tommy nestles in closer to Buck's chest, and neither of them say anything else for a while.
"Thanks," Tommy says, when they're about halfway through the movie. "For staying."
Buck kisses his head again, and Tommy lifts himself up a little so he can turn and kiss Buck on the lips, instead before settling back against his chest.
"Thank you, for letting me stay. For letting me look after you."
The words are on the tip of his tongue as he looks down and watches Tommy turn his attention back to the movie, watches him mouth along to a handful of lines.
I love him, he thinks. He doesn't say it out loud, not yet, but the realisation is soft, and warming, and perfect. And he will say it, soon. When the time is right. And he hopes Tommy will say it back.
For now though, Tommy is like a weighted blanket on his chest, comforting and warm, and Buck's content to just stay here for as long as he can.
They'll put on another movie, finish the snacks, maybe order takeout for dinner later, and Tommy will smile again, will laugh again, will kiss Buck the same way he says his name.
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sweetiesicheng · 3 months ago
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s.coups - slice of our lives
word count : 1,932
happy birthday to our handsome s.coups ~
-
"finally," you mutter as you sit down on a stack of wooden pallets. you just finished cleaning for the night at the restaurant you work at, but you couldn't help but think about the mistakes you had made earlier during tonight's service.
you dig through your backpack for a bit before opening one of the pockets. you take a box of cigarettes out and open the box to see your lighter and two cigarettes left. you take a cigarette out and light it up.
as you sit in the silence of the alley behind the restaurant, you try to calm down before going home for the night. you don't want to go home still thinking about the service since you have work tomorrow as well.
when you're done smoking the first cigarette, you drop the end onto the ground and reach down to smash it with your foot. the back door to the kitchen suddenly opens, and you see the expeditor walking out.
"hey," seungcheol greets when he notices you.
"hey," you greet back and light the second cigarette.
"you look beat," he comments as he takes his jacket off.
"cause i am," you reply. "we were slammed tonight."
"front of house messed up a lot since myungho’s out sick. we already chewed them out for it,” he mentions. he walks over to you and stands in front of you. "need a ride home?" he offers.
you shake your head, "no. i live pretty far. i'm going to leave after i'm done," you say to him.
"can i stay to make sure you get on your way safely?" he asks, "my mother would kill me if she somehow found out i left one of my coworkers by herself in this crusty alley."
you crack a smile, a first for the night. then, you nod your head. "yea, you can keep me company," you say to him. "i'd offer you a cigarette but i'm out."
he shakes his head, "i don't smoke, not anymore at least."
"better than me," you manage a laugh out. then you sigh, feeling emotions starting to bust out again, but you try to suppress them in front of your coworker.
"you okay?" seungcheol asks you. "hey, look at me. y/n, look at me."
you look down at the ground and watch your falling tears hit the pallet. seungcheol reaches over to take the cigarette away from your hand.
"hey, listen," seungcheol says to you and crouches down in front of you, enough to where he is in your view. "tonight was rough, for everyone. front of house was a mess, and chef shouldn't have taken you off of your station. you're a rockstar in there. no one else can work the desserts better than you."
you start to smile as you listen to him. then you chuckle, "yea, no one better than chef," you say.
"oh whatever. when we had family dinner that one time and you two had your little competition. everyone knew you were the best, even chef. if you hadn't beaten him, then you would have never stepped foot in that kitchen again. you're in that kitchen with all of us for a reason," seungcheol says to you. he reaches in and wipes some of your tears away. "need another pack?" he asks, noticing the empty box next to you.
you shake your head, "i’ll buy one another time," you say to him. "um, thanks. sorry you had to see that," you say to him and wipe the remaining tears with your sleeve.
"no worries. take it easy on yourself," seungcheol replies.
"y/n?"
you look over your shoulder and have to do a double take when you see seungcheol.
"oh, hey," you greet and look back at the mixer. "give me a second," you say to him.
"no, you're good. just wanted to tell you that i left something for you in your bag. keep it up," he says before walking away.
you smile and continue working. there are two desserts for tonight's service, but they're the ones you usually go with. with one of the line cooks helping you out today, the two of you finish preparing everything.
eventually, service begins and you help prep ingredients for the next day since you'll have to wait a bit until people want to eat their desserts.
"y/n, i'll love you forever if you save me a piece of cake. i want to bring my girlfriend something yummy from work," one of the line cooks says to you as she passes by.
"you should bring her here," you say to her. "i'll pack you two if we have any leftover," you say and continue prepping ingredients while she goes back to her station.
once some more time passes during service, you start making the desserts for customers as you hear orders called out.
"coming through. watch your feet," you hear someone say as they walk through with a tray.
"shoot, we need more strawberries," the line cook with you says. "i thought we had enough," he mumbles while finishing off making a dessert.
"i can grab more. finish these for me," you say to your coworker before leaving your station. you quickly go into the walk-in fridge and grab more strawberries before leaving. you quickly walk back, trying to avoid being in the way of the other chefs and employees. "here you go," you say to your coworker.
"thanks," he replies before finishing the desserts and bringing them to the pass.
the rest of service goes smoothly, much better than the past few shifts where you had been more stressed out. after you finish cleaning for the night, you grab your stuff and notice something in your bag, a new box of cigarettes. there's a note attached to it with a phone number and a smiley face drawn onto it.
you smile and pack up your things before leaving. you put your headphones on and start walking to the subway station.
[ y/n ]
you trying to keep me
hooked?
[ seungcheol ]
just trying to save you a trip.
did not mean to supply to
your habit.
my apologies. my apologies. 🙇🏻‍♂️
[ y/n ]
haha all good
thanks
[ seungcheol ]
no problem. get home safe.
the door to the condo slams open, "am i late?" seungcheol asks as he hurries in, all while holding a pizza box.
"you have three minutes. come on, sit. i'm hungry," you say to him as you crack open two beer cans.
"the pilot better not follow her again," seungcheol says as he throws his jacket onto the arm of the couch. he sits down next to you and pulls the coffee table closer to the couch so you two can reach easier.
"do you think she'll give a rose to him?" you ask as the show starts. "oh, not him!" you shout when you see an eliminated contestant back on the screen. “what is he doing?”
"geez...that's embarrassing," seungcheol comments.
the two of you watch the newest episode of "the bachelorette" together. both of you mentioned how you wanted to hang out, so you two eventually set up a date on one of the days that the restaurant is closed.
"that is way too embarrassing," seungcheol comments again as you two watch what is happening. "and what he said to her was even more embarrassing."
"yea, he's kind of aloof about all of this," you say as you grab a slice of pizza. "i'm surprised he hasn't gotten out yet. i bet he's just in this still cause he's cute," you add on as you watch the episode.
"you think he's cute?" seungcheol asks you. you look over at him.
you shrug, "i mean, yea. he's cute, but he's all over the place," you reply.
seungcheol leans back, putting his arm on the back of the couch. he tilts his head as he looks at you. "what about me?" he asks.
"huh?"
"am i cute?”
you stare at him, pizza in hand. you can feel yourself blushing from his words, knowing that your answer is in your face.
"you're cute. did you know that?" seungcheol asks.
"we're supposed to be watching "the bachelorette" right now," you say to him, trying to calm down internally at the same time.
he grins, "alright. let's watch," he says to you before looking at the tv screen again.
you look forward, eating a bit of pizza and trying to focus on the latest episode. you finish your slice and finish off the beer too. the episode continues on with a few dates and a jaw dropping moment happening.
you sit back on the couch with a second beer in hand. while watching, you feel seungcheol move his arm to be on your shoulders. since you want to be comfortable, you eventually lean against seungcheol as you two watch the episode together.
"damn, i should've bought flowers..." seungcheol mutters while the bachelorette starts handing roses to certain people. you look at seungcheol again. "you didn't hear that."
"uh huh," you start and look at the tv screen, "right." you chuckle while you hear seungcheol sigh. "you can give me some next time i come over," you say to him.
"next time? you're giving me a next time?" seungcheol asks.
you look at him again and smile, "you're cute too, choi seungcheol."
"stop! i'm testing new flavors!" you whine at seungcheol, who is trying to snag another piece of cake from the counter. "seungcheol! just wait like five more minutes."
"it's just one cake, y/n. you have a bunch of them. i'm sure it's great," seungcheol says to you, finally standing away from the table. with no cake in hand, he crosses his arms and leans against a counter while watching you decorate the cakes and put little details on top of them. "you going to make this for tomorrow's service?"
"yea. i've been thinking about making new stuff lately," you mention. "i think it'll be good for a change," you say and pick up a plate. "okay, taste test please," you say to seungcheol and hand him the plate.
he grabs the plate with one hand and opens a drawer next to him to take a fork out. he cuts into the dessert and takes a bite. you watch his expression change into a smile.
"oh, that's really good, babe," he says to you and continues eating. "i think this is better than the chocolate mousse."
"let me try," you request. seungcheol feeds you a piece. "i think it needs something on top," you state your opinion. "maybe just something for color."
you open the fridge and start looking for something to garnish the dessert before opening the freezer as well.
"what about this?" seungcheol points to something in the freezer.
"you think?" you ask.
"you have more of them, so it can't hurt to try," seungcheol says to you.
you make more desserts with little modifications to them, trying to determine which one is the best. seungcheol gives his opinions, which helps you a lot as both of you taste everything.
"this one is the best," you say to him, pointing at one of the cakes.
seungcheol nods, "yea, that one is really good. i like this one a lot too."
"hmm...maybe i should just wait until next week. i'll need to ask mingyu to order some ingredients at the restaurant," you say to him.
"you have plenty of time," seungcheol says to you. "you did a great job," he adds with a smile.
"thanks for helping me out."
"of course, babe."
271 notes · View notes
pandapetals · 1 month ago
Text
Stay With Me
old man logan x fem!reader - angst, set during logan film, logan injured, established relationship, mentions of death, no y/n used, no reader description, hopeful ending
a/n: sorry for writing this shit. i'm emotional rn due to my period and being sick.
Logan comes back injured again and you debate whether you should stay or leave because you can't keep watching him kill himself.
read on Ao3
The blazing sun prickled sweat from your skin as a gust of hot wind swept across the barren landscape, stirring up dust and sand. This was the middle of nowhere—a wasteland, forgotten by the rest of the world—but it was your home now. Isolated, bleak, but safe. At least, it was supposed to be.
Your arms were crossed, eyes scanning the horizon, searching for the familiar black limo. It had been days since you last saw Logan, and the worry gnawing at the pit of your stomach was becoming unbearable. You knew he wasn’t doing well. His healing factor was fading, almost gone, and each time he returned, there were new scars. New wounds that didn’t close as quickly. Grey streaked through his hair now, more prominent with every visit, and his eyes... his once-sharp, steely gaze was dulled by spotty vision.
The question haunted you, whether you wanted to admit it or not—How much longer can he survive like this? Would he even last another year? Another month?
You should’ve been inside, checking on Charles. Instead, you were out here, frozen in place by the gnawing fear that today, Logan wouldn’t return at all. And if he did... how bad would it be this time?
You spotted it just as your mind began to spiral with worst-case scenarios. The black limo, limped along the horizon, dust trailing behind it like a funeral procession. The familiar knot of dread tightened in your chest as you watched the car slowly crawl toward the makeshift home you’d built out here. He had made it back—but something told you this wouldn’t be a quick recovery.
When the limo finally came to a stop, the door creaked open, and Logan practically spilled out onto the cracked earth. Your heart jumped in your throat as you rushed over to him, your feet moving before you could even think. His body was slumped, his clothes torn and stained with blood. Too much blood. You could see the jagged gashes across his arms, his chest, his side. Deep cuts that weren’t healing.
“Logan!” you called out, voice tight with panic as you dropped to your knees beside him.
He groaned, brushing you off with a grunt as he tried to push himself up. “I’m fine,” he rasped, his voice rough and ragged, like gravel scraping together.
“You’re not fine,” you snapped, your hands hovering over his injuries, unsure of where to start. His body was a mess of torn flesh and bruises, the telltale signs of another fight he couldn’t fully walk away from. “Logan, you’re bleeding everywhere.”
Logan let out a pained chuckle, his lips curling into a grimace. “It’s just a scratch, darlin’.”
You glared at him, frustration bubbling up as you struggled to keep your emotions in check. How many times had he said that? How many times had he limped through that door, barely holding himself together, only to shrug it off like it was nothing? This time was different. You could see it in his eyes—the exhaustion, the pain. He was getting worse, and it terrified you.
“Let me patch you up,” you muttered, your voice softer now but still laced with anger. “You’re not invincible anymore, Logan.”
He didn’t argue, which in itself was alarming. Instead, he just gave a slight nod and allowed you to help him to his feet, his weight heavy against your side. You guided him inside, to the small, cluttered living space where the first-aid kit was always waiting.
Logan collapsed into the nearest chair, his breathing labored as you grabbed the supplies and knelt beside him. His blood-soaked shirt clung to his skin, and you winced as you peeled it back, revealing the extent of the damage. Gashes deep enough to need stitches, burns, bruises—he looked like he’d been through hell and barely crawled out alive.
You worked in silence for a while, cleaning the wounds, stitching up the deepest cuts. Logan winced here and there, but otherwise stayed quiet, his gaze far away, lost in whatever battle he’d just fought. His hand rested limply on his knee, trembling slightly.
“Logan, you can’t keep doing this,” you said after a long stretch of silence, your voice strained with the weight of all the worry, all the fear you’d been holding back. “You’re not healing like you used to. I... I can’t keep watching you come back like this. You’re dying.”
He grunted, barely acknowledging your words. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not!” you snapped, the frustration finally boiling over. You paused, trying to steady yourself, but the tears that had been threatening to fall stung at your eyes. “I’m scared, Logan. I’m scared that one day, you won’t come back. That I’ll lose you. And you won’t even care.”
Logan’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, refusing to meet your eyes. “I’ve been through worse.”
You stared at him for a long moment, shaking your head. “That doesn’t make this okay.”
Logan remained silent, his face set in a hard, stubborn mask, like he always did when he didn’t want to talk about his mortality, about how much time he had left. It was the same damn argument every time. He would dismiss it, pretend it didn’t matter, and you would let it go because you couldn’t force him to care. But this time, it was different. You couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine, not when his body was falling apart right in front of you.
“I can’t watch you like this,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I can’t keep patching you up and pretending you’ll just walk it off like before. You’re not invincible anymore, Logan, and if you keep going like this... I’m gonna lose you.”
Logan didn’t respond. He just closed his eyes, his breathing heavy and labored, as though every word you said weighed him down more.
Eventually, exhaustion took over, and Logan’s body slumped in the chair. He’d fallen asleep, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. You stood there for a long moment, watching him—watching the man who had been your strength, your anchor, slowly fall apart.
Your heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid, but you knew you couldn’t stay. Not if this was how it was going to be. Not if he was going to keep killing himself and expect you to watch him die a little more each day.
As you zipped up the bag, you heard a low, gravelly voice behind you.
“Where are you goin’?”
You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. Slowly, you turned around to see Logan standing in the doorway, his hand gripping the frame for support. His face was pale, his body still weak, but his eyes... they were wide with something you hadn’t seen in a long time. Fear.
“I can’t do this, Logan,” you said softly, the words catching in your throat. “I can’t watch you die.”
Logan’s jaw tightened, and he limped toward you, his body swaying slightly as he fought against the pain. “You’re not leaving.”
“I have to,” you said, your voice trembling. “I can’t just sit here and watch you destroy yourself.”
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to grab your arm, though his grip was weak. “I can’t lose you,” he rasped, his voice breaking with desperation. “I’ve lost... I’ve lost everyone. I can’t lose you too.”
Your heart clenched at his words, the raw vulnerability in his voice. Logan never let himself get emotional—he always held everything at arm’s length, especially when it came to his own feelings. But here he was, standing in front of you, broken and desperate, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re killing yourself, Logan,” you whispered, tears blurring your vision. “I can’t keep watching you like this. I can’t.”
“I’ll take care of myself,” he promised, his voice rough but full of urgency. “I swear. I’ll do better. Just... don’t go. I need you.”
You stared at him, your heart torn between the overwhelming love you had for him and the fear of what staying would mean. But the way he looked at you, the pain in his eyes... he wasn’t lying. He was afraid of losing you and he was letting his guard down to show you.
“You promise?” you asked, your voice barely audible.
Logan nodded, his hand squeezing yours. “I promise.”
For a long moment, you stood there, the weight of his words settling between you. Then, slowly, you let out a breath before dropping the bag to the floor.
“Okay,” you whispered, stepping into his arms, feeling the familiar warmth of his embrace as he held you close. “Okay.”
Logan held you tightly, his breathing ragged but steady as you allowed yourself to believe him.
108 notes · View notes
nephalem-da · 20 days ago
Note
Hiiii the request you wrote (sarcastically yours) was so cute and I really loved the gender neutral non description of the reader like somebody else pointed out in the comments too.
I have another idea/request if you happen to be up for it.
Bill x gn!reader who is touch starved and had a terrible week. When Bill pops up to cause trouble they just snag him from mid air and trap him a hug as they lay down to cuddle him if he wanted to or not.
Over all mood can be kind of reader being tired and not taking shit or giving any fucks while he quirms in their hold, complaining and threatening them dramatically because how dare they just cuddle him? And why does he feel strangely cozy?
Anyway, thanks again for bringing the first request to life <3
Have a lovely day!!!
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Caught In A Hug
(Bill Cipher x GN!Reader)
Enjoy!
Genre: Humor, Fluff, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Warning: Emotional exhaustion, Bill's chaotic behavior (mentions of bugs, fire, etc.), Light angst, fluffy ending.
Summary: After a rough week, you're too tired to deal with Bill Cipher's antics. When he appears, you pull him into an unexpected cuddle, ignoring his dramatic protests.
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After an exhausting week, all you wanted was some peace, but of course, Bill Cipher had other plans. The chaotic dream demon had been popping in unannounced, causing trouble like always. But tonight, you were done. When he appeared mid-air, ready to start his usual antics, you didn’t hesitate. Reaching up, you snagged him from the air, pulling him into a firm embrace as you collapsed onto the couch.
“What the—HEY! What do you think you’re doing?” Bill’s voice was loud, his single eye widening in surprise as he flailed in your arms. “Let go of me, fleshbag! I’m the all-powerful Bill Cipher! You think you can just—HEY!”
You ignored his dramatic outburst, too tired to care about the dream demon's protests. Your arms tightened around his floating form as you sighed, settling deeper into the cushions. “Not today, Bill. I’ve had a really crappy week, and I just need this. You can complain all you want, but you’re not going anywhere.”
His yellow, triangular body squirmed against you, and his eye darted around, probably plotting some chaotic retaliation. “Oh, you’re gonna regret this! I’ll make bugs crawl out of your cereal! I’ll—ACK! Hey, are you even listening?!”
“Nope,” you muttered, eyes already half-closed as you buried your face into his smooth form, not bothering to think about how weird it was to be cuddling a literal demon triangle. “You’re warm. Kinda cozy too.”
Bill sputtered. “Cozy? ME? You’ve got some nerve! I’m a nightmare, a terror, an all-knowing force of the universe! And you—you—let go right now, or I’ll—” His threats trailed off as you shifted slightly, adjusting your grip to pull him closer.
He wriggled, floating slightly above you but still locked tight in your hug. “You really have no idea who you’re messing with, do ya? This is gonna end badly for you, I swear—Hey, stop nuzzling me! What’s wrong with you?!”
“Bill,” you grumbled, barely opening your eyes. “I’m too tired for your drama. Just… be quiet for a bit. I’m not letting go.”
There was a pause. You felt him stiffen, probably trying to figure out how to react to the situation. You couldn’t tell if he was more annoyed, confused, or horrified that you dared to trap him in such a mundane, human gesture.
“This is so beneath me,” he grumbled under his breath, though his voice had lost some of its earlier venom. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. Normally, I’d make you regret this for eternity.”
You snorted softly, tightening your hold slightly. “Sure, Bill. Whatever you say.”
The room was quiet for a while after that. You could still feel Bill’s occasional squirm as if he couldn’t decide whether to break free or not. His eye darted around, and you could tell he was struggling with the situation—partly because it was so mundane, and partly because… well, he wasn’t used to this. Who would hug a literal chaotic being?
Bill’s grumbling gradually faded into silence, and you felt him settle in your arms. Despite his earlier protests, he wasn’t putting in much effort to escape anymore. It was almost as if he was… relaxing?
You could feel his energy pulsing slightly against you, warm and oddly comforting. It was bizarre, really—cuddling Bill Cipher of all beings. But right now, with how drained you felt from the week, it was exactly what you needed.
A while passed before Bill spoke again, his tone a little quieter and far less aggressive than before. “This doesn’t mean anything, got it? Don’t go thinking I’ve gone soft or anything.”
“Mmhm,” you mumbled, too close to sleep to argue. “Sure.”
“And I’m only letting this happen because you’re clearly too weak to handle my usual brilliance,” he continued, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “But just wait. I’ll make you regret it. I’ll turn all your furniture upside down, make your mirrors talk back—maybe even—”
You interrupted him by shifting slightly, pulling him even closer. Bill went silent, his body tense in your arms again as if he wasn’t sure how to react. After a few beats, he let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “You’re impossible.”
Despite his words, Bill didn’t move. In fact, he moved a bit closer, his usual chaotic energy now strangely subdued. For someone who thrived on chaos and destruction, being held like this clearly wasn’t something he understood—or was used to. And yet, he didn’t pull away.
The longer the silence stretched, the more you noticed a subtle shift in Bill’s attitude. His squirming had stopped, and while he still made the occasional sarcastic comment, his usual snark had softened into something more… tentative.
“Alright, fine,” he muttered at last. “But don’t think this is a regular thing. This is a one-time deal, got it? You try this again, and I’ll—”
“Mmhm,” you repeated, your voice sleepy. “Whatever you say, Bill.”
Bill grumbled something unintelligible, but his protests were far less forceful now. His body felt warm and secure in your arms, and despite all his complaints, he hadn’t made any real effort to escape.
As your breathing slowed, you couldn’t help but notice a strange, unfamiliar comfort in his presence. Bill Cipher, the all-powerful, terrifying demon, was somehow… calming? Cozy, even.
And though he’d never admit it, you had a feeling he didn’t hate this as much as he was pretending to.
“You’re still going to regret this,” he muttered, though his voice was softer now, almost tired.
“Sure, Bill,” you whispered, finally drifting off to sleep, still holding him close. “Whatever you say.”
And for once, Bill Cipher didn’t argue back.
121 notes · View notes
rileyslibrary · 1 year ago
Note
How about this: After some especially rough missions, Ghost is on edge, his mental health hanging by a thread. Of course he doesn't admit it and powers through training and everything, but everyone knows he needs help, something to balance him out again.
Even the doctors are on their wits ends with him at this point, so they try a new approach and assign him to some animal assisted therapy. OF COURSE he hates the idea - waste of time and he is fine anyway...
So reader and their animal are invited to base to try and help him. (Or reader is the team mate, and the therapist an additional character - how ever, you know best.) I'll leave to you which animal it will be. ;-)
Ghost & Peppa (the dog)
Anon, hold my purse while I fill this with warnings:
Brief mentions of war
Mentions of physical & emotional trauma
This story is purely fictional and should not be considered an accurate representation of the practices and/or effects of Animal-Assisted Therapy
I did NOT cry while writing this. I’m fine.
——————————————————————
He’s fine. Of course, he is.
Nothing wrong with collecting mutilated bodies after a bomb explosion—It’s part of the job.
What about him getting shot? Ah well, it got him on his shoulder—that doesn’t count. It wasn’t life-threatening, according to him. He was fine.
He had to talk to someone. You all tried to pass the idea to him. Everyone except Gaz, who didn’t want to get involved since he, too, was going through some shit.
Soap told him straight away. “Mate, you need to talk to somebody”.
“I got nothing to say”, was his response.
Price was more subtle. Such a tactful guy, your captain. He tried to bring the subject up by sharing his own therapy experiences.
“Opening up and feeling vulnerable was difficult,” he said, “but I pushed through.”
But all he received was a shrug and a stern “glad it worked out for you. I’m fine.”
And you? You tried to cheer him up, calm him down, make him talk.
Nothing.
For the past two months, he has been training daily, hitting that punchbag and bench pressing like a maniac. He was pushing his physical limits, attempting to lift barbells equal to his weight, and you were looking at a person struggling to lift the weight of his conscience.
But he was fine.
Until Gaz came one day and pitched an idea to the captain: “Animal-assisted therapy” they called it. The doctors assigned it to him, and it helped. So, why not give it a try with Ghost?
The lieutenant hated the idea. Hated it. Why? Because “it was pointless and stupid” to him.
Plus, he was fine.
But Price placed his thumbs under his shoulder straps and told him it was an order. And nobody messed with the captain when he put his thumbs under his shoulder straps.
The therapist arrived the following week with Peppa, the dog.
“Peppa, like the pig?”
That was Ghost’s first question. And upon the therapist’s first nod, the follow-up question came.
“Why the fuck would you name the dog Peppa?”
The therapist explained that Peppa’s first patient was a little girl who struggled with anxiety. She named her Peppa after the cartoon character, and the name stuck.
Days turned into weeks, and although he initially protested against the therapy sessions, he was now willingly participating in them. Almost looking forward to them.
“Can’t come to training today; got a meeting with Peppa.” He would say.
Such compliance? From Ghost? How?
You all reached a conclusion because you needed an explanation that could make sense—Ghost wasn’t engaging with the therapist as much; he was opening up to the dog.
Peppa became his silent confidante.
He was playing with her and scolding her for eating too fast. Sometimes, he would ask her “why she was so sad” or “so devious” and why she was always drooling. In response, Peppa would just whine, wiggle her tail, or tilt her head, and Ghost would interpret her reactions as he pleased.
Although you could all see the improvement in his demeanour, you still worried about his well-being.
But whenever you asked him how he was, his response remained the same.
He was fine.
You tried to shift the focus and ask how the therapy was going instead. Yet, Ghost would still cling to his standard response.
Fine.
And then, the therapist advised to do something else instead.
“Ask him how Peppa is doing.”
And that simple question, about the dog’s well-being, unveiled the hidden side of his emotions. He would open up, and recount how Peppa was feeling a bit down one day, seemed too scared another day, or ate very little. He projected his own feelings and experiences onto the dog. He used her as a vessel to express his inner turmoil, revealing his struggles in a way that felt more comfortable and less vulnerable to him.
After all, it was the dog’s struggles, not his own.
He was fine.
“Do you think Peppa gets a payslip every month?” you joked one day as you looked at Peppa lying next to Ghost. “For having a job and all?”
“Peppa was a stray, you know; she always fought to survive.” he replied, kissing her head, “poor thing.”
“Poor thing,” you repeated, this time looking at him.
He knew he wasn’t fine. You all knew.
But Peppa didn’t pressure him to do or say anything.
She wouldn’t urge him to “talk to somebody” or “try meditation.”
She would insinuate, in her own way, that she was there for him.
Looking at him with her tongue out and a wide smile across her face.
Whining and demanding more pets.
Giving him the ball so they can play fetch.
Reminding him that caring for himself was just as important as those gentle scratches behind her ear.
“We’re in this together, human—you will be fine.”
——————————————————————
867 notes · View notes
httpvomitello · 12 days ago
Note
Hey so how do you think the tmnt boys would deal with having a crush where they text each other frequently and also do hang out a lot. But what they do when for once their crush texts them “I hate everything right now. I’m so angry. >:(“. Behind the scenes Their crush just came on their time of the month and now they’re like angry with everything hormonally? If the boys come over cuz crush isn’t answering, hours later, crush seeming better, “sorry about that. I just came on my time of the month earlier, this ones bad this month and my emotions are crazy. I now just feel depressed :(”?
Hello again! I hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡
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Leonardo
Leo gets a text from his crush that reads, “I’m so over everything right now. I’m mad and don’t even know why.”
He’s used to keeping joking his way out of awkward situations, so he responds
“Yikes, sounds rough! Want me to come over and cheer you up with some cool ninja moves or bad jokes?”
When there’s no reply for hours, Leo’s anxiety spikes (even if he won't admit it)
He grabs his katanas (just in case) and heads out to check on them
When he arrives, his crush finally explains, “Sorry about that. I just came on my time of the month earlier. This one’s bad, and my emotions are crazy.”
He might be a little awkward at first, but he quickly adapts, flashing his signature grin
“Ah, no worries. Your favorite turtle has arrived!So, what’s the plan? Do you want to grab us some snacks and watch some movies?”
They decide to watch Twilight
It's a good thing they ended up sleeping next to Leo, because that way they didn't have to witness him start crying at the end
He’s happy to be a distraction, whether it’s watching a movie or just hanging out
He’ll probably pull out a few tricks, magic or otherwise, to get a smile out of them before the day’s done.
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Raphael
Raph gets a message from his crush that says, “I’m so frustrated. Everything’s making me mad for no reason, and I’m trying to keep it together.”
He doesn't take long to send a message asking if everything is okay
When he doesn’t get a reply after a while, Raph starts pacing
He debates texting again but doesn’t want to seem pushy, so instead, he heads out
When Raph gets there, his crush doesn't take long to explain
“Hey, sorry I didn’t respond earlier. My period just started, and it’s hitting hard this time. I feel like a mess right now,”
Raph softens immediately, his face full of understanding
He knows how overwhelming emotions can be, and he doesn’t want to make things worse by crowding them
He’ll stay close, maybe put on a show they both like or offer up his shoulder if they need a comforting presence.
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Donatello
Donnie receives a text from hos crush at a random time while he was finishing one of his projects
“Today’s been a mess, and I’m so angry. I don’t know how to shake this mood.”
His immediate reaction is to problem-solve, so he texts back
“I’ve read that mood swings can sometimes be helped by balancing serotonin levels. Do you want me to come over and help you troubleshoot?”
He’s serious about wanting to help, though his methods may seem a bit... clinical
When he doesn’t get a response for hours, Donnie’s curiosity gets the best of him
It doesn't take long to get to their house
“Sorry I didn’t get back to you. My period started earlier, and it’s really messing with my emotions. I just feel so out of it,”
Donnie immediately understands and goes into helpful mode
“While I can’t stop that, I can help with the physical discomfort or even keep you company to distract you from the emotional side effects.”
He might offer up some tech-based solutions, like a supercharged heating pad or an app he coded to track moods and help regulate them
If they’re feeling down, he’ll switch from science talk to a more personal approach, asking what they need and offering to help with whatever would make them more comfortable
Even if his methods are a little unconventional, Donnie genuinely wants to make things better for them.
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Michelangelo
Mikey got the text from his crush while he was watching his favorite cartoon
“I’m just in such a bad mood today. I feel off, and I hate it.”
His heart sinks because he’s all about making people feel happy and loved, especially his crush. He responds immediately
“Aw, that’s the worst! You want me to come over and bring snacks and some good vibes? I’ll cheer you up, promise!”
When there’s no reply for a while, Mikey’s concern turns into action. He grabs a bunch of their favorite snacks and his skateboard, determined to turn their day around
When they finally explain, “Sorry for not responding. My period started, and it’s been a rough one. My emotions are just all over the place,”
Mikey is quick to jump into comfort mode, his empathy showing immediately
“I’m here to make you feel better, no worries. Snacks? Cartoons? Blanket fort? You name it, and we’ll do it!”
Mikey’s goal is to lift their spirits, no matter what
His energy is contagious, and he’ll stick around for as long as they need
By the end of the day, Mikey will make sure they’re at least smiling, even if just a little
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virtualvault · 6 months ago
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
Summary: Having gotten into an argument with Miguel before dinner, you both find a way to let out your frustration.
Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, afab reader, mentions of previous argument/ bickering, teasing, flirting with a stranger, flashing a stranger( he sees your underwear, waiter is kind of a perv/creep, exhibitionism(kind of), getting caught in the act, oral (f and m receiving) spanking, begging, dirt talk, rough sex ( let me know if I missed anything)
WC: 3.8K
A/N: Completely stopped writing for over a month. Oops. But I got the inspiration to write again so I decided to finish this Miguel fic that's been sitting half-finished for months. Enjoy!! Also, PSA, don't flash strangers or involve them in your sexual escapades unless you have their consent. Tried to write the waiter character like he was a creep who enjoyed it and this is fiction so no harm done, but please don't do that irl.
The tension in the car is palpable, but not the good kind of tension. Not the kind where lust and desire hang heavy in the air, where you can't bear to be apart even though you're right next to each other. Not the kind where you can't keep your hands off of each other and the temptation to pull over and submit to your desires right then and there feels impossible to resist.
On any other date night, this would be the norm, but tonight, a different tension is felt between you and Miguel. Residual feelings of frustration and annoyance brought on by the argument you two had back at the apartment. The disagreement was petty. Nothing that a little healthy communication couldn't resolve. But the incredibly stressful and tiring day you two had had both of your patience hanging on by a thread, and it was just a matter of time before one of you snapped. This time it just so happened to be you. 
You were both looking forward to finally spending some quality time together, considering both yours and Miguel's schedules are so hectic. But any bit of excitement you had vanished as you walked into your shared bathroom and tripped over the pile of clothes he left in the middle of the floor. You came to find out about this little habit of his when you first moved in together. You had brought it up to him, expressing your annoyance, and asked him to try and be mindful about it. He made a genuine effort to stop, only reverting to his old ways when he was in a rush or had a million things on his mind. Today seemed to be one of those days.
You growled annoyedly, and the second he walks through the bedroom door, you get on him about it. Was it right to take your frustration out on him? No. But you couldn't help it. He clearly wasn't in the best mood either, as he marched after you when you stormed off and started arguing right back. You two spent the next ten minutes bickering and even continued to mumble angrily to yourselves and throw around passive-aggressive comments as you got ready to go to dinner. 
It was a terrible way to start date night, but as you sat side by side in the car and the negative emotions started to dissipate, you both realized how silly it had all been, and you didn't want to let it ruin your night, not knowing the next time you'd be able to go out like this.
Although the irritation you were feeling earlier had subsided, you couldn't resist messing with him. Usually, when you get into petty disagreements, you both end up in bed, letting out your frustrations and subsequently making up by fucking each other silly. But you had reservations that had been made months in advance that you did not want to miss, leaving you with pent-up frustration, so you decide to find other means of letting it out. 
You plan to do that by pushing his buttons in hopes that he'll drag you off somewhere to fuck the attitude right out of you. As you peruse the menu, you begin contemplating different ways you could rile him up until you realize the perfect opportunity to do so is standing at the table, filling your water glass.
Conveniently, the waiter has been flirting with you from the very first moment he walked up to the table, something both you and Miguel picked up on, and it's safe to say your boyfriend is not thrilled about it. Normally, you wouldn't be either, but in this case, it's working to your advantage.
As he fills your glass, he doesn't even look you in the eyes, opting instead to stare directly at your chest. Any other time, you’d tell him off for being a creep, but you see Miguel staring daggers at him, and that makes you want to egg him on further. You notice his reaction out of the corner of your eye, but the waiter doesn't seem to. Now that you think about it, he hasn't acknowledged Miguel once, his gaze only straying from you long enough for him to fill the other glass before he's looking back at you.
You proceed to ask him a question about the menu, all while pushing your tits up on the table and giving him a full view down your blouse. He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he's shamelessly ogling your cleavage and, again, neglects to make eye contact with you as he answers your question. You giggle at everything he says, and you can see Miguel roll his eyes as you do so. After chatting with you longer than your boyfriend, or you presume even management, would deem necessary, he quickly jots down your orders and walks away. 
When he's out of earshot, Miguel asks, “What are you doing?”, looking unimpressed and letting you know he’s on to your little game. But you don’t care.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m being polite to our waiter. You should try it,” you answer, feigning ignorance.
He scoffs, “Polite? Yeah. Polite means saying please and thank you, not giving him a good look down your shirt and letting him fuck you with his eyes.”
“I can’t control what he does. It's not my fault he can’t resist sneaking a peek. You do the same thing,” you respond, raising one brow as you see his eyes fall to your chest, proving your point.
His eyes move back up quickly, and he says, "Well, I also fuck you till you can’t walk. You want to let him do that too?” 
His question has your mind conjuring up the memory of just last weekend when he gave it to you so good that you spent the next day recovering in bed. You remember the delicious ache he left you with, and you press your thighs together at the thought. 
“Maybe I should. If he’s capable of picking up after himself, I’d get down on my knees for him right now,” you sass. Knowing he won't let that slide, you wait for his reaction. He slams his hand on the table, not hard enough to draw the attention of the other patrons, but it got yours. 
“I said I'm sorry, ok? I was rushing out of the house this morning and I wasn't thinking. Will you just let it go?” He asks, the frustration clear in his voice. 
You playfully roll your eyes and try not to smile. You’re not upset anymore, and honestly, you weren't to begin with. You were just agitated because you had a particularly hard day at work. You just can’t help but push his buttons. You wouldn't taunt him like this if it wasn't something he does to you all the time. He's even admitted that he likes messing with you, riling you up just to see you wear that cute little annoyed pout on your face. So, you’re just giving him a taste of his own medicine.
“Fine. I shouldn’t be giving him a show. But how about you?” You ask in a sultry tone as you run your foot up his leg and lean forward, giving him the same view you gave the waiter just moments ago. 
He licks his lips at the sight. “Fuck, you look so good in that dress. Too bad I'm going to have to rip it off you,” he says, reaching down to your foot that has made its way to the inside of his thigh, and he softly caresses your ankle.
“You tear it, you die,” you warn. This dress was expensive, and you’d like to wear it more than once. You've lost more clothes than you can count to his lack of patience.
He chuckles. “Ok. Pull it off of you,” he corrects himself.
“I don’t know if I can wait,” you whine and glance over at the bathroom, mentally calculating if you'd have enough time to sneak off without anyone noticing.
“No, not after last time,” he replies, shaking his head and smiling at the memory. You two had been just a little too loud, and as you walked out, you were met with a very concerned hostess who came to make sure everything was alright.
You pout but agree; you’d like to save yourself from that embarrassment again. You decide to give him a view of what he's missing out on and spread your legs and pull up your dress, prompting Miguel to glance under the table. He spots the bright red mesh panties he had recently bought you but has yet to see you wear. 
“Naughty, naughty,” he says, shaking his head, but it takes everything in him to pull his eyes away as the waiter comes back, carrying your food. 
“Here you go.” He sets your plates down, Miguel’s first and then yours, and he smiles down at you, this time hungrily eyeing your lips.
You can see the anger on Miguel's face, and the brattiness bubbles up inside you again. You move your hand and knock your fork under the table, feigning an “oops.” 
“I’ve got it, miss.” Your waiter quickly offers and squats, moving to reach under the table. Legs still spread, he’s met with your clothed mound, and he stops in his tracks, lingering under the table.
Realizing what’s happening, Miguel uses his foot to push your knees together, blocking the waiter's view, and he retreats from under the table. The guy must not sense Miguel's anger, or he simply doesn’t care, because when you thank him for picking it up, he replies, “No problem, beautiful, I'll go get you another one.” He then places his hand on your arm while shooting you a wink. 
Miguel, having had enough of this little display, stands up, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a wad of cash. He proceeds to shove it into the waiter's chest, and the guy almost topples over. 
“Keep the change,” he grumbles and pulls you from your seat, guiding you out of the restaurant with his hand placed firmly on your lower back. 
“Decided to push your luck, huh?” He says as he opens the door to the back seat and pushes you inside. “Big mistake.” 
After shutting the door behind himself, he cages you in against the seat and begins grinding himself against you. Even through the layers of clothing, the friction feels divine, and your breath hitches.
“I can’t keep people from looking,” you try to reason, hoping you haven't genuinely upset Miguel. But judging by the way his hands run up and down your body, grabbing every slope and curve, it seems like you've garnered the reaction you'd been hoping for.
He kisses your neck and chest, moving down your body at a maddeningly slow pace, and continues to speak as he does so. 
“I’m not jealous because I know he wants to get with you. I love when you show your body off and all the looks you get. I get to see people crave so desperately for something they can’t have, for something only I can have.”
You feel your skin warming up, not only under his touch but at his confession. You know deep down he's never genuinely jealous. You've made it abundantly clear that you are his and that he is yours, and nothing and no one would ever come between the two of you. But knowing a part of him gets off on seeing other people staring at you or hitting on you all while knowing they'd never have a chance turns you on even more.
He finally gets down between your legs and slowly starts lifting your dress. He begins kissing and nipping at the newly exposed flesh of your thighs.
“What I didn’t like was the way he disrespected you by acting like a little perv. He’s at work for god's sake, and he has the nerve to be staring down your shirt and touching you. He’s lucky I didn’t reach over and break his wrists,” he says through gritted teeth as the image of the stranger touching you flashes in his mind and rekindles his anger.
The sentiment that he was more upset at the fact that the man was being touchy with you, which did make you uncomfortable and was unprofessional to say the least, was what upset him rather than a territorial thing did warm your heart. But the warmth blooming in your chest quickly relocates to your core as he places kisses across your panty-clad center.
"I'm not thrilled he got a glimpse of these," he comments as he massages you through the fabric. You hum at his touch.
"Maybe he wanted a taste," you tease and angle your hips closer to his face.
"If he tried that, he would’ve come out from under the table without any teeth," he threatens, and you know he isn't kidding.
“And a heel in his eye,” you add, disgusted at the thought of that creep trying anything on you.
He chuckles and slips your underwear off, and you hear a soft hum as he's faced with the sight he's been longing for. He momentarily drags his fingers through your folds, saying, “I can’t say I blame him for wanting a peek, though,” and then he dives in.
His skilled tongue has you cumming on his face quicker than you'd thought possible. As you come down, he's lifting his head, and you see your arousal dripping down his chin. The sight has you grabbing for him, and you pull him up to you. You lick up his chin and then capture his lips in a kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. 
You take advantage, as he's left a bit dazed by the heated kiss, and push him into a seated position with his back against the door. You hurriedly place yourself between his thighs, mirroring his position between yours. You undo his belt and pull him out. Always impressed with his size, you eye his length hungrily.
“Think he’s as big as you?” you ask, already knowing the answer, and begin stroking him slowly.
 He lets out a dry laugh, then says, “Not a chance.” 
The cocky tone with which he says it and the smirk on his face would make you cringe if it were anybody else, but you know he can back it up.
“He'd leave you disappointed, I know it. You can tell just by the way the little weasel carries himself,” he says, and there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s right.
Not able to resist any longer, you take him in your mouth. You grab him at the base and start moving your hand in tandem with your mouth, stroking up and down his dick while dragging your tongue on the underside of his length.
His head falls back and rests against the window as he gets lost in the feeling, bucking his hips every time you come up and swirl your tongue around his tip. His breathing starts getting ragged, and he gently pulls you off him. He holds you by your hair and brings your mouth to his; the kiss isn't too rough but is still filled with need.
You pull away and quickly shuffle onto all fours, facing the opposite window. He sits back, allowing you to position yourself comfortably, and appreciates the view as your ass sticks in the air. As you sink down onto your elbows, you teasingly wiggle your hips, and he smiles and grabs at the jiggling flesh before giving your ass a quick slap.
He positions himself behind you and begins rubbing his tip through your folds, repeatedly catching on your entrance, but doesn’t enter you like you desperately want him to. You whine, so he begins pushing his thick cock into you, but doesn’t get any further than his tip before he’s pulling out and rubbing his length through your folds once more.
He does this repeatedly, and not being able to take his teasing any longer, you whine, “Give it to me. Or should I go get what’s-his-name to do it for you?“
You suck in a harsh breath as he fully sheaths himself in you in one quick motion, and you feel your walls stretch around him. “Is that what you want?” he asks. 
“Mmhmm,” you reply, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he begins moving slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. When you begin reaching for him to get him to move faster, he knows you’re ready. He grips your hips and gives you faster, deeper thrusts that pull moans from both of you each time he bottoms out.
You both begin feeling the stress of the day melt away, adding to the mix of pleasure. The fatigue from the long day, and the never-ending problems and drama at work, and even the tension from the argument fade away as the pleasure overtakes both of you.
Your quick, shallow breaths and the way your toes curl let him know you’re getting close, and he reaches underneath you to start toying with your clit. This pushes you over the edge, and Miguel groans as he feels you pulsing around him.
He continues swirling his fingers around your clit to help you ride out your high, and you already feel your next climax building. You feel him begin to slow down and fuck into you at a gentler pace. Needing those deep thrusts back, you find yourself begging him to go faster.
“No, don’t stop! More, please. Please!” You plead as you reach behind you to grab the back of his thigh, urging him on.
He chuckles at the desperate tone in your voice. He pushes you down by your shoulders until your body is flush against the seat and then hikes your right leg up. As he’s shifting you into position, he says, “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you. Look at you; you’re insatiable.”
You let out a sigh at the new position, his dick reaching deeper and his tip dragging along that spot inside you that has you squirming. Heeding your request, his pace quickens. His breathing quickens as well, making his impending release evident, and he tries to hold off, wanting to give you one more. 
“He looked like he was about to cum in his pants when he came up from under the table. No way he’d last long enough to give you what you need,” he continues.
“Think you can?” You tease as you look behind you and smirk, all while intentionally squeezing your walls. He lets out a low, throaty moan.
You continue clamping down on him intermittently, and his harsh grip on your hips and the deep furrow in his brow let you know he’s struggling to hold on. So naturally, you decide to tease him further. 
“Oh, I don’t think you can. I guess I’ll just have to get waiter boy to come and finish me off. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to.” You feel him place a firm grip on the back of your neck, and he uses the leverage to pull you to him and meet each of his thrusts.
Your mouth falls open and your eyes close at the feeling, but they fly open as you feel a harsh slap against your ass. You moan as he grips your stinging flesh and squeezes it in his hand.
“In. his. fucking. dreams.” He punctuates each word with a deliciously hard thrust. 
He begins rubbing your sensitive nub again, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You barely muster the strength to lift your head as you hear Miguel mutter, “Speak of the devil.”
Confused, you attempt to focus your eyes and you see a shadowy figure rounding the side of the car. Miguel grabs the back of your head and smooshes it against the glass. As the person comes into full view, you see the familiar face of your waiter as he stands in front of the window. The fog that has formed on the glass makes it impossible for him to see anything but your face, but he definitely sees you. You know you should try to hide, but in the moment, you don’t care. It all feels so good, and you’re too cock-drunk to think or act with any reason.
The waiter looks confused, and then you see his face redden as he realizes what’s going on. He stands there for a minute, listening to your muffled moans through the window.
“Tell him who gets to fuck you,” Miguel commands.
You barely hear what he says as you feel the pressure building in your core. You babble out some incoherent response, so he repeats himself.
“Tell him. Tell him who gets to fuck you.” He’s rubbing at your clit even faster now, and you squeal at the almost overwhelming sensation.
“You, Miguel! Only you get to fuck me like this!” You finally answer. You’re not sure if the waiter heard what you said, but the way his eyes widen makes you think he does. Having the creep hear what he wanted him to hear, Miguel leans over and bangs on the glass, effectively startling the guy. He jumps at the sound and when he quickly tears his eyes away from you and shuffles away hurriedly.
As he steps away, you finally let go, and you topple over the edge once again. You shake underneath Miguel as he holds you to him, reaching his release as well. He kisses down the back of our neck before pulling out and flipping you over, so you’re face to face.
“Think he got the message?” Miguel asks, his face flushed as he attempts to catch his breath.
You cradle his face and push his hair back, admiring the view of him hovering above you. You pull his lips yours and kiss him deeply before pulling away to place a few soft kisses on his face, and he does the same to you in return.
“Yeah, I think he heard you loud and clear,” you respond.
"No, I think he heard you loud and clear,” he counters and laughs when you playfully smack his chest. You cover your eyes with your hand and groan as the reality of what you just did sets in.
“Well, I guess we can never come back here,” you say dejectedly as you mentally add this restaurant to the list of places you can no longer go because of you and Miguel’s collective lack of control.
He chuckles, and you pull your hand away and look him in the eyes. “It’s not funny! If we’re not careful, we won’t be able to show our face anywhere in this town,” you say playfully.
“Eh, worth it,” he responds, kissing your forehead.
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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 7 months ago
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Apologies — Lucifer X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of tragic death, mentions of assault, insinuation of a mental breakdown, Angel being a caring and kinky bestie, Fat Nuggets being an absolute sweetheart, Lucifer being a mess, fluff, brief sexual innuendos.
Word Count: 1.3K
Summary: You got into an argument with Lucifer and it ended with you walking out.
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It had been a stupid argument that caused you to walk out before you could say something you'd regret. It hadn't been stupid to you, but rather Lucifer described it as stupid.
He realized his mistake the moment your eyes widened, filled with tears and you walked out the door without another word. He followed you, but it was too late. You were gone from his sight and you could be anywhere, especially with your long list of contacts and insane ability to hide in the shadows.
You opened up to him about the way you died. Ten years you had been in hell and told nobody how you met your tragic end. Nobody asked. Not until Lucifer, not until today.
The details of your captors drugging, breaking, and killing you slowly to avenge their friend who you accidentally killed, to save you and your best friend from being assaulted, came out.
Kicking. Screaming. Turning your throat raw with emotion, they came out.
You weren't even sure how it had turned into an argument, when your boyfriend of a year was the one who wanted to know.
Before you knew it, you found yourself at the hotel. It was the safest place to go, you thought. Charlie was thankfully out for the day, having mentioned over breakfast that she was taking Vaggie to the only art gallery in the Pride Ring.
The doors slammed behind you as you attempted to reign in your emotions. It didn't matter what you did, hot tears streamed down your face and your hands trembled with every step.
Angel reached you just in time for your legs to give out. He caught you and held you close, having never seen you like that before. His first instinct was to question you on what happened, but he could feel your sobs becoming heavier.
He scooped you up easily and got you upstairs to his room, asking that nobody says a word about you being there. If asked, nobody had seen you since breakfast.
Angel Dust rubbed circles on your back, like you had done for him many times, as he waited for you to calm down and regulate your breathing enough to speak clearly.
For him, it felt odd being the one to give comfort, rather than receiving it from you.
"You wanna tell me what happened, Toots? Coming in like that, you got me all worried."
You turned your head to the side and sniffled, embarrassment creeping in at the fact that your best friend had just seen you have a breakdown. And you had cried into the fluff of his chest so easily, as if you had done it a dozen times.
You stayed silent for another couple moments, not yet trusting yourself to speak without a trembling voice.
He kept rubbing circles on your back, just like you always did when he needed an extra moment or two to compose himself after a particularly rough session at the studio.
"I told him how I died." You said. Your voice was so quiet and defeated that Angel almost missed it. He would've, had he not been waiting to hear your voice.
It didn't take a rocket scientist for him to know that you meant Lucifer. After all, you spent most of your free time with him and the rest of it was helping out at the hotel (mostly keeping an eye on Alastor).
"It didn't go well?" Angel asked. You shook your head and inhaled a shaky breath.
"We ended up arguing — I couldn't even tell you about what, but he said the argument was stupid. . . I guess he was right. The argument was stupid and so am I, for even thinking —"
"Hey, you're not stupid." Angel firmly cut you off. His tone of voice caught you by surprise. "You're one of the smartest sinners I know, and that's saying something because I know some real dumb fucks that would blow your fuckin' mind, Toots."
You went silent again. Angel sighed.
"Listen, you don't have to tell me how you died. I'd never pressure you to, just like you never pressured me to tell you. . . But as your best friend in all of hell, I'm obligated to tell you that you shouldn't hide from your problems."
"That's kinda my thing, though." You sighed.
"I know. But you'll have to talk to him eventually." He untangled his limbs from yours and gently lifted you so that he could lay you on his bed. "I'm gonna grab something from the kitchen for you, alright? Get some rest. You cried for like an hour."
You adjusted yourself until you were in a comfortable position. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'll be back." He scratched Fat Nuggets head before he slipped out of the room.
The plump little pig easily maneuvered the bed, grunting with each step until he landed in front of your face and licked your nose. You couldn't help but smile at the adorable creature.
"Hey, Nuggs. . ." You cooed, allowing the little pig to lay himself against your chest.
You didn't even notice that his warmth lulled you to sleep until a glass of water and a pastry of sorts being set on the bedside table roused you from your light slumber.
"Hey, you." You stretched your stiff muscles as you greeted your friend. How much time had passed? It couldn't have been more than five minutes, right?
Angel didn't hesitate to get straight to the point as he saw you were feeling far better than you had been when you arrived.
"The short king is here. He wants to see you, doesn't believe you're not here."
You groaned and sat up, reaching for the water and pastry. The water chilled your throat and the small fruit pastry calmed the hunger that had apparently been there all afternoon.
"What do I do?" You ask once you've finished.
"Suck his dick or let him eat you out, I don't know, somethin'. You do better with this therapy shit than I do."
You groan once again as you stand from the bed, finally deciding to talk to him. Angel was right. You were better at the therapy shit than he was. He was there for you and tried his best. That was all that mattered.
You purposely took your time getting to the lobby, trying to go over what you wanted to say in your head.
But once you got down there and Lucifer laid eyes on you, he sprung into action, rushing over to pull you into his arms.
"[Y/N]! Honey, baby, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for any of that to happen the way it did! I don't care — I mean, I do," he stuttered nervously. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry and I love you. Please forgive me! I never want to see you look at me like that again, I'm sorry. . ."
The words came out so quickly that you barely had the brain power to understand what he was saying, but it clicked soon and you wrapped your arms around him.
"I forgive you. . . I shouldn't have walked out, so I'm sorry too. . . I love you so much. . ."
Lucifer released his hold on you enough to get a good look at your face. "Never apologize for something you have the right to feel some way about."
You smile softly and cup his cheeks with both hands, pressing a quick kiss square on his lips.
He groaned the moment you pulled away. "Then you do the same, Luci. . . Can we please discuss murder plans over dinner from that place you told me about that just reopened down the street?" You ask sweetly.
"Absolutely we can! Anything you want, honey, it's yours. Anything at all." He promised with a broad smile. He had a feeling that he knew which murders you were planning, especially since he had been planning them the entire time you were telling him your story.
You knew he was already two steps ahead. That was good enough for you.
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sukified · 7 months ago
Text
— his favorite ho.
❀ katsuki b. x fem!reader
❀ outline. teeny tiny drabble because i saw a car sex twt vid and it made me miss kats
❀ w. 18+ content, dirty talk, very light assplay, katsuki has anger issues, riding, car sex
❀ do not repost thx
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katsuki has had a long fuckin’ day.
higher ups yapping in his ear and telling him that his poor attitude towards civilians has become a daily topic and he’s had enough. everyone who knew of the pro knew that his temper was short, that he wasn’t saving people to be friendly. no, he was doing his job, keeping japan safe and sound under his supervision without fake flowery bullshit.
not only that, his anger management classes have been kicking his ass. it was a requirement as soon as they threw katsuki on the front lines— he needed to attend regular sessions. it was believed that going to talk about his feelings, forced out of his protective shell of aggression and anger, would improve his performance.
whatever the hell that meant.
you know full and well how katsuki has been feeling about his current predicament. he brought it up all the time over whatever fancy dinner he treated you to, complaining about responsibility and growth and the likes. the man simply needed emotional guidance, he needed to learn healthier ways to deal with his feelings and mental hurdles because they were strong. everything about him was so very strong.
though, when he didn’t feel like running an irritated hand through his mop of thick ash hair while he spewed profanities about his braindead therapist or his dick-sucking bosses, he’d keep you stuffed.
it was a particularly taxing day on his end, seeing as though spring tends to bring out the evil motives and the villains. popping off explosions and knocking wrongdoers the fuck out could only go so far for his stress, for his mental constipation.
no, today he needed more. he needed to shut his brain up, needed to direct the anger and resentment and frustration elsewhere. what better way to deal with his problems than take it out on his pretty baby?
“been forever since i’ve given you good dick, hah?” katsuki hisses as his head lolls back lazily, thunking against the sleek leather of his backseat, rough hand planted limply on the curve of your waist. you look godsend hovering over him, your shoulders flexing as you grip on his thick thighs, trembling like a goddamn leaf as you fight to keep yourself up.
he’s got you riding him because he’d be damned if he put any extra effort into the shitty day. today was your day to take control, a rare one because he couldn’t be bothered. katsuki had called you up as soon as his patrol ended, voice void of emotion in fear that he’d end up snapping at you for any minuscule reason. after all, you hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve his berating.
your pussy cries and sobs as you bounce on his cock sensually, the strain making your mind fog up and blank on your train of thought. it was almost a routine for the pro to use your body for a nice shutdown, you felt it was the best way to thank him as a citizen. he sought you out on his worst days and you never failed to follow through, something he fucking adores about you.
his jaw is slack, blonde stubble decorating his skin, tongue slithering out to lick at his lips. you were so damn wet and tight around him, it was just enough to help him block out the spiel he had received earlier in the day about working on his rescue skills. nah, he didn’t need to change himself for the sake of others, you seemed to like him just as he was.
“shit, you’re filth. jus’ a filthy girl,” the sound of his voice, mumbled and distant, makes your cunt throb. your walls suction him tight, coating him in a glossy mess of your pussy drool. he swears he could die happy right here and his mind is nearly blank as he slips a thumb in your ass, huffing out a quiet chuckle at the way your back arches immediately.
no matter how nasty his attitude can be, you come back for more. you always do.
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thatlotuscookie · 4 days ago
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👋👋i wanted to request for dabi, when he has a crush on the member of the league (reader) but it's uncomfortable for him so he decided to just be the biggest dick he can be to her. and one day he snaps at her even though failed mission wasn't her fault. and above all she felt so bad physically this day, she was so sick. and her fever or whatever she has is making her feel so bad. and next day she doesn't even appear in league's hideout. and she doesn't appear in next few hours either and when dabi looks for her it turns out she's got a serious sickness when she feels like dying, she can't breathe, she's anxious, her vision gets blurry and all that shit. PLEASE MAKE THIS ONE LONG BECAUSE I'M BORED AND YOU'RE A GREAT WRITER❤️🥺and end it with some hugs, kisses or whatever you feel like ending it with, just fluff
✧・゚: a/n : thank you to the lovely anon that requested this one! its funny cause right now i have the worst headache ever, but im trying to send these reqs <3
✧ Title: ✧ Behind the Walls ✧ ✧ Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader ✧ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: After a rough mission, Dabi’s constant criticism has you questioning your worth within the League. When a migraine and fever take you down, Dabi finds himself reluctantly stepping in, his unexpected gentleness hinting at feelings he’s tried to hide for so long. ✧ Content Warnings: Emotional Hurt, Illness/Injury Care, Soft Dabi Moments, Mild Swearing, Vulnerability, Dabi being a dickhead xd ✧ WC: 2162 words // 12k chars
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Dabi had a way of turning even the smallest inconvenience into a reason to snap at you. Every time you entered the room, his glare would follow, sharp and dissecting, as if he were daring you to give him a reason to unleash whatever was brewing under his skin. You tried to shrug it off, reminding yourself that he was harsh with everyone—but with you, it felt personal. The jabs cut deeper, lingered longer, especially when you’d worked hard to contribute to the League.
After a particularly challenging mission that had taken a chaotic turn, you returned to the hideout, feeling utterly drained. You’d kept pace with everyone else, even stayed back to hold off a security team that had almost blown the entire operation, but despite your best efforts, the mission hadn’t gone as planned. It wasn’t even your fault—none of it was, in fact. Still, the weight of everyone’s fatigue hung in the air as you walked in, trying to blend into the background and head straight to your quarters for some much-needed rest.
But Dabi wasn’t about to let you off so easily.
“Hey,” his voice cut across the room, dripping with irritation. “Nice job holding us back out there.” He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as he leveled you with a stare, his words slicing through the quiet like a knife. “Not like it was important or anything.”
You stopped, feeling the familiar knot form in your stomach as his words washed over you. You knew you hadn’t done anything wrong; in fact, you’d practically saved the mission. But it was like he was looking for any excuse to tear you down, and today, he’d found his opportunity.
“It wasn’t my fault,” you managed, your voice softer than you intended. The dull throb in your head, which had started as a manageable ache, was intensifying, and each syllable felt like it rattled inside your skull. You wanted to keep your composure, to stay calm and collected, but the exhaustion weighed heavily on you, amplifying every ache and pain.
“Oh, so now you’re making excuses?” he sneered, his voice raising just enough to make the others in the room glance your way. “Funny, that’s what people say when they know they messed up.”
You could feel your face heat up, a mix of frustration and hurt swirling together as his words hit home. The pounding in your head became unbearable, the pain radiating behind your eyes as you struggled to keep yourself from lashing back. It was already humiliating enough; you didn’t need to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to you.
“It’s not an excuse,” you said, trying to keep your tone steady, but your voice wavered despite your efforts. “I stayed back to cover everyone, and you know it.”
Dabi scoffed, rolling his eyes as if your words were nothing but empty air. “Sure, whatever you say, hero. Maybe next time, do us all a favor and stay out of the way if you’re not up for it.”
That was the last straw. You turned away, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over as you left the room, your vision blurring not just from exhaustion but from the sting of his cutting words. The tension in your head exploded into a full-on migraine, each heartbeat sending a sharp pulse of pain through your temples as you stumbled back to your quarters.
Curling up on the bed, you couldn’t hold back the silent tears that finally escaped. You felt feverish, your body heavy and weighed down as you lay there, the ache in your head growing worse with each passing moment. Dabi’s voice echoed in your mind, the harshness in his words replaying in a loop that made it impossible to find any comfort in the quiet of your room.
You lost track of time as you lay curled up in your bed, cocooned in your blankets. The world outside felt distant and muted, the sounds of the hideout fading away as your headache intensified. The pounding in your skull grew sharper, almost rhythmic, and a wave of nausea rolled through you, leaving you breathless. You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, hoping to block out the chill that seemed to seep into your bones.
As the hours passed, you drifted in and out of sleep, the comfort of unconsciousness momentarily easing the pain before it came crashing back. Each time you stirred, you felt the remnants of your fever—your skin hot and clammy, the bed beneath you soaking up your discomfort. You had no idea how long it had been since you last left your room, but eventually, the noise of the League’s activities began to fade into a more oppressive silence. You’d missed dinner, and the absence of the usual bustling energy in the hideout felt eerily wrong.
But it was when you heard footsteps approaching your door that a cold shiver of anxiety shot through you. You didn’t want to see anyone, especially not Dabi. You didn’t want to face him again, especially after everything that had transpired. But when the footsteps stopped, a knock broke through the quiet.
“Hey, you in there?” Dabi’s voice cut through the stillness, low and slightly muffled. There was a pause before he continued, “You gonna just hide in here all night?”
You squeezed your eyes shut, wishing desperately that you could disappear. “I’m fine,” you managed to call out, but even to your own ears, you sounded weak.
“Yeah, you don’t sound fine,” he shot back, the irritation in his tone mixed with something else that you couldn’t quite place. “Open the door.”
Against your better judgment, you found yourself pushing off the blankets, each movement sending waves of nausea crashing against you. You tried to take a steadying breath, but the tightness in your chest made it difficult, leaving you feeling more anxious than ever. With a reluctant sigh, you got up and opened the door just a crack, barely able to look him in the eye.
Dabi stood there, his arms crossed, the annoyance on his face quickly morphing into a frown as he assessed you. His eyes widened slightly, the harsh lines of his expression softening as he took in your flushed cheeks and the way you swayed slightly on your feet.
“You look like shit,” he muttered, the bluntness of his words a strange juxtaposition to the concern creeping into his voice.
“I feel worse,” you admitted, letting the door open wider as you leaned against the frame for support. “What do you want?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m coming in.” Without waiting for a response, he pushed the door open further and stepped inside, his presence filling the room. You felt a mix of annoyance and vulnerability, not sure how to process the sudden shift in his demeanor.
He scanned the room, his eyes landing on the disheveled sheets and the empty space beside you. “You’ve been in bed all day. Why didn’t you come out? Everyone’s worried about you.”
His voice held a note of genuine concern that caught you off guard. You swallowed hard, fighting back the lump forming in your throat. “I didn’t want to deal with anyone,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Especially you.”
“Yeah, well, too bad.” He moved closer, his gaze never leaving your face as he reached out, his fingers brushing against your forehead. “You’re burning up. What the hell is wrong with you?”
You flinched at the sudden contact, but his touch was surprisingly gentle. “I think I have a fever,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just need to rest.”
“Rest isn’t going to help if you’re sick.” Dabi sighed, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, I know I’ve been a dick, but—”
“Yeah, you have,” you cut in, your voice sharper than you intended. “I didn’t deserve that today, Dabi.”
He ran a hand down his face, exhaling slowly as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I know,” he finally said, his tone softer now. “I’m… sorry. I don’t know how to deal with this, okay? I don’t do feelings.”
His admission hung heavy in the air, and you felt the tension between you begin to ease slightly. “You could’ve just talked to me instead of being an asshole,” you replied, a little more gently this time.
Dabi nodded, the irritation on his face replaced with a somber expression. “I get it. I messed up. But right now, you need help.”
Before you could respond, he stepped back and grabbed the blanket, folding it over his arm. “Get back in bed.” It was an order, but it felt more like concern, and you found yourself obeying, fatigue washing over you as you settled back under the covers.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, his weight shifting the mattress slightly, and you felt a mixture of comfort and unease at his proximity. You watched him, his expression thoughtful as he looked at you, seemingly wrestling with his emotions.
“Just—just stay still for a second, okay?” He reached out again, his hand finding your forehead once more, his fingers cool against your skin. “You’re burning up. I can’t believe you let yourself get this bad.”
“Like I had a choice,” you muttered, your voice tinged with frustration. “I thought I could tough it out.”
“Clearly that didn’t work,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, but it quickly faded. “You need to take it easy. I’ll get you some water or something.”
Before you could respond, he stood up, moving toward the small kitchenette in the corner of your room. You watched him rummage through the cabinets, grabbing a glass and filling it with water from the sink. The sight of him, so focused and intent, made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with your illness.
When he returned, he handed you the glass with an unexpected gentleness, his expression softening as you took a sip. “Drink,” he insisted, watching you carefully. “You need to stay hydrated.”
You nodded, the cool water soothing your dry throat as you gulped it down. As you set the glass aside, you caught a glimpse of the concern etched on his features, something almost tender that made your stomach flip.
“Thanks,” you said, your voice quieter now as you met his gaze.
Dabi shrugged, his usual bravado faltering for just a moment. “Whatever. I just don’t want you to die on me. You’re too useful to the League for that.”
A soft laugh escaped your lips, a little incredulous, but it felt good. “You really know how to charm a person, Dabi.”
“Yeah, I’m a real charmer,” he replied, rolling his eyes. But the corners of his mouth twitched upward, betraying the faintest hint of a smile.
You both fell into a comfortable silence, the tension easing as you allowed the moment to settle. Despite the heaviness in your chest and the throbbing in your head, you felt a warmth creeping in, a connection blooming in the quiet space between you.
“What did I do to make you mad today?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence. “Was it something I said?”
He shifted slightly, the laughter fading from his eyes as he contemplated your question. “It’s not about you. It’s—” He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. “It’s me. I just don’t want anyone to see that I care. I thought being a dick would keep you away, but it only pushed you closer.”
“Why do you care so much?” you probed, trying to understand the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him.
Dabi met your gaze, and for a brief moment, vulnerability flickered behind his usually guarded eyes. “Because you matter. And I don’t want to lose you.”
His honesty hung in the air, leaving you momentarily speechless. You hadn’t expected such a revelation, especially from someone who had built their walls so high. “Dabi—”
Before you could finish, he reached out, taking your hand in his, his grip surprisingly gentle. “I know I’m not the best at this, but just—just let me be here for you. I want to help, even if I don’t know how.”
Your heart raced, warmth blooming in your chest as his fingers intertwined with yours. “I’d like that,” you admitted, the sincerity of your words breaking through the fatigue that clung to you.
“Good,” he said, a smirk creeping back onto his face. “Now, let’s get you better. I’m not done with you yet.”
As you leaned back against the pillows, a sense of calm washed over you. Dabi might not have been perfect, but in that moment, he was there for you, a presence that grounded you as the ache in your head gradually faded, replaced by the warmth of his closeness and the promise of something more.
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kinardsevan · 2 months ago
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Okay, prompt. Tommy and Buck are having slow shifts and one of them decides to call the other.
consider this as existing in the same timeline as to can’t outdrive pain (someday it’s gonna take the wheel)
we survive
Tommy sighs, pushing a piece of paper across the table.
“Riley, you have to at least try to make your art not be derogatory,” he states in a gentle but firm tone. “Miss Sidney isn’t going to let this fly.”
Riley rolls his eyes, tossing a conte crayon onto the table. Charcoal scatters as it cracks in half, and the teenager crosses his arms. Tommy frowns, reaching out for the crayon and setting it back inside the box he’d brought with him.
He’s no stranger to Riley’s moods six months into this endeavor. What had begun as a way to fill some time after breaking his elbow and having to miss weeks of work has become part of his weekly ritual now, occasionally twice a week when he can swing the extra time. Evan has joined him a number of times when the time off has lined up, but today he’s alone.
Riley Collins was almost sixteen and had a rough background, one Tommy could relate to only too well. His mom had died when he was three, and he was left with an alcoholic father who cared so little that at seven, he’d been found digging in a neighbors trash can for food. That had begun the teen’s childhood in foster care, but it hadn’t been the end of it. He’d cycled through multiple foster homes with while struggling with attachment issues. There was a year-long period when Riley was eleven where his father had gotten sober, regained custody, and things seemed like they might get better. Except, Riley had been the ringer by that point. He’d lived in homes with emotional and verbal abuse. He’d seen parents hit each other, and occasionally hit the children. He’d seen sexual abuse through the tiny window of where his blankets didn’t completely cover his eyes when cries of his foster siblings woke him in the middle of the night. He’d faced some of those situations himself, and by the time he cycled back into his fathers home, he wasn’t the same little kid who had learned to become self-sufficient when his father was lost to the bottle.
Either way, Riley’s father made it six months before his sobriety with Riley back home went to hell. There was a DWI, and then an occurrence where Riley showed up to school with a black eye and bloodied nose. Then he was locked out of the house. CPS was still so involved at that point that he was quickly placed back in foster care, but the writing was on the wall at that point. Even though he’d been placed with a family with good values, he was a mess. There were stolen things, broken possessions, a flirtation with breaking the law. Ultimately though, it was a full-on brawl he got into with an uncle which led to his placement in the group home. And the thing was, he was a great student. He could stay invested in his school work and the routine it required without a problem. But when it came to people…he was a mess.
Tommy couldn’t help but reflect that back to his own childhood.
“This is so fucking lame anyway,” Riley bemoans.
Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “Really? You seemed to think it was cool three days ago.”
“What the fuck do you know, old man,” Riley replies, scowling at him. He shoves away from the table, and Sidney is up out of her chair quickly, already calling after him, but Tommy raises a hand to her.
“Let me go,” he tells her softly. Their group is usually a bit bigger, but with school being back in session, half of them have signed up for extracurriculars, so there’s only three today, and Sidney has the other two pretty well covered with whatever they’re drawing.
She looks at him with a hint of apprehension, but then nods, settling back into her chair.
Tommy picks up his sketchbook and moves around the table, walks out the back door toward a picnic table where Riley is pushing a stick into the aged wood, trying to peel a piece of loose long grain with it. He dares a glance up at Tommy and then sighs, looking back down at the table.
“Hey kid. You wanna tell me what that was all about,” he asks, crossing the space between them but still staying a few feet away.
Riley huffs but doesn’t answer as he keeps pushing at the picnic table with the stick. Tommy frowns, taking a few more steps forward and sitting down on the opposite side of the table. He reaches into the pocket of his shirt and pulls out a tin of Altoid Sours. He pops one in his mouth and then offers one to Riley. When the kid doesn’t immediately take one, Tommy rests the tin on the table between them.
“You know, I used to make a lot of really violent art,” Tommy states. “Still have some of it. Drawings of people getting stabbed, gunshot wounds.”
“Bet Miss Sidney would love to hear that right now,” Riley states sarcastically.
Tommy shrugs. “Probably not. But it was how I dealt. Especially with the people who hurt me when I was your age.” He flips his sketchbook back to the front before setting in front of Riley on the table. The first few pages have older, yellowed paper taped in. It’s been crumpled and some of it is shredded, but Riley looks up at it, skims over the images. He sets the stick down and flips a page over as something that looks suspiciously like comic paneling tells the story of a child and his abusive father. He watches the way Riley runs his fingers over the paper, touches the images.
“What do you know about abuse anyway, old man,” Riley murmurs softly, anger still present in his voice.
“More than you’d think, kid,” Tommy replies. When the teen looks up at him, Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “First of all, I wasn’t always this built or lean. And me at thirteen, on the huskier side and gay? That didn’t go over all that well in my home.”
Riley doesn’t let on his emotional response to Tommy’s explanation, but he keeps flipping through the pages in the sketchbook. A drawing of a war zone. Drawings of mass military graves. Dog tags. Bloodied fists with colored pastels.
“Least you got out,” Riley comments after a few minutes of silence. “Had someone to help.”
Tommy gives a haughty laugh. “I went to the military to get out. I didn’t have anyone waiting at home if I made it back from Iraq. Everything I’ve done, I’ve had to do on my own.”
There’s still a scowl on Riley’s face, but the ire seems to sink out of it as he listens to Tommy.
“I was not cool when I came back, either,” he adds. “I was really shitty to people I now consider friends. Spent a lot of years alone because I couldn’t figure out how to just connect with people.”
“Least you found people who wanted you around,” Riley grumbles, his voice still soft, like he doesn’t actually want Tommy to hear him. “I got two years.”
Tommy sighs. He’s not sure whether saying something is a good idea. There are still too many what ifs and probabilities for him to be sure.
“You know, Evan and I have been talking to Miss Sidney,” he states in a quiet tone. Riley finally reaches out and takes one of the altoids, pops it into his mouth. His eyes slowly raise, though he doesn’t look directly at Tommy. “But we can’t do anything if you keep showing this kind of attitude in program. They won’t consider it a good placement.”
Riley’s brown eyes meet his then, his sandy blonde hair half hanging in them. He stares at Tommy with a bewildered expression.
“Hailey is-..”
Tommy shakes his head, cutting Riley off. Of course the kid would think they’d want a young child. “Hailey doesn’t fit in our home. She’s six. She needs a mom.”
“Dakota-“
“Doesn’t like fire trucks,” Tommy comments, in reference to another one of the younger kids.
Riley looks up at him, brow furrowed. “Shouldn’t you two want a baby?”
Tommy lets out a small laugh. “Do you know how long the adoption process is for an infant? Never mind surrogacy.” He can’t help the warmth in his chest at the fact that for all of Riley’s questions, the idea of living in a house with two men in a committed (carnal) relationship isn’t one of them.
Riley is quiet again for a few moments as he closes Tommy’s sketchbook and places it back on the table.
“I age out in 798 days,” he mutters.
Tommy takes a breath and shrugs again. “Well. I guess that leaves us roughly twenty-two thousand more to have you around with us, five of take a few thousand,” he states. “You know, if you want to.”
Riley looks up at him through his eyelashes with an expression that’s trying suspiciously not to reflect any kind of hope. Tommy recognizes it from the one he had when he’d been told he was going back to live with his father at thirteen. He narrows his gaze slightly as he reaches out for his sketchbook.
“You know, Evan makes a mean shepherd’s pie,” he comments, sliding the book back over. “I could probably get him to whip one up tonight. He’s supposed to be off shift soon.”
“T-tonight,” Riley stammers.
“Only if you want to,” Tommy replies. “And if you apologize in front of Miss Sidney. I kinda promised her you’d be a good fit and you’re making me look bad right now.”
The slightest bit of an upturn happens at the corners of Riley’s mouth. Tommy nods, reaching out for the altoids tin. He closes it and pops it back in his pocket.
. . .
Hours later, in the silence of their home, Evan rests his chin on Tommy’s shoulder as they stand in the doorway of what they expect to become Riley’s bedroom. The teen is sprawled across the Queen-sized bed and a pillow that Tommy finds to be suspiciously similar to one from his and Evan’s bed is wrapped tightly in the teen’s arms.
“Dare I say, he’s a little attached to us,” Evan whispers to Tommy.
Tommy chuckles, pointing up to the T-shirts tacked up to a cork board on the wall. “That was his idea.”
Both shirts are worn and faded, one from the 118 and the other from Harbor. The vinyl is half-peeled from the shirts, and only the outline of Tommy’s last name remains on the shirt that belonged to him from how much use it’s seen.
“Who would’ve thought he’d like us that much,” Evan jokes. He tilts his head, resting his cheek on Tommy’s shoulder.
“I think he feels seen. Understood,” Tommy murmurs back. He takes a breath, looking down at Evan. “He asked if he could take both last names.”
Evan smiles wearily at Tommy. “He can have whatever he wants.”
Tommy lets out a soft chuckle, although he stiffens when Riley moves on the bed, only to settle a few seconds later with a contented sigh.
“And this is why you’re not in charge of the budget right now,” he comments. “He’ll have you talked into a car and three gaming systems in under twenty-four hours.”
Evan scowls at Tommy, turns his head and bites his shoulder. Tommy grunts softly, turning toward him. He pushes Evan gently out of the room, across the hall into their bedroom, easing the door shut quietly.
“Let’s not traumatize the kid on his first night home,” he states, framing Evan’s face with his hands before he dives in for a heated kiss. Evan moans softly into his mouth, fisting Tommy’s shirt.
“Well then, I guess you’re just gonna have to drown me out with the shower,” Evan replies, tugging Tommy back towards the en-suite.
And he does.
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moonbaby26 · 8 months ago
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Title: The Victor
(Chapter 5 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)
*Crossposted to AO3 Here*
Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Aokiji/Kuzan x Reader, Smoker x Reader is in the past, Doflamingo x Tsuru (platonic)
Chapter Warnings: foreplay without payoff, references to more physical abuse to reader, alcohol abuse
Chapter Synopsis: After the confrontation over you between Doflamingo and Aokiji in Sabaody, both men are now left dealing with those resulting emotions in their own ways. And you still find yourself caught in the middle, the three of you all having to find the next way forward.
Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5, 6
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This morning had been more than rough. You should have given into the nausea of last night and puked these toxins into the bushes. Instead of trying to be so tough to hold it in. Because what did dignity matter when you still felt this awful?
You’d been a little confused on your way to the gym too as you’d seen Kuzan walking the opposite way in the rain. Towards the harbor actually with an awfully serious look about him and his umbrella open above his head.
He hadn’t even seen you, you were sure. But you’d been in a crowd of other sailors. Vergo had volunteered you to give assistance in some basic haki training happening this morning.
And said class was thankfully being held inside the gym, in comparison to the poor luck of the muddy recruits now running past you all in the yard. You could hear Akainu’s whistle and yell towards them even now over the distant thunder.
“Too slow! Double time it you slugs!” He was screaming.
Oh, you did not miss that part of the rookie days.
The haki class itself had been pretty uneventful at first too. Not very many students, just those who had shown any aptitude at all and had been recommended to keep training by their commanding officers.
Of course Vice Admiral Vergo was well known for his advanced level of armament, so he’d been a guest teacher for today while still in Marineford. And for the entire morning you were only moving through the group as his assistant, giving pointers here or there where you could to the other marines to help improve their form.
If you hadn’t felt like such utter shit, you would have gladly asked Vergo to spar with you by the time lunch break came too. You knew he was above your level, but that was the only real way to learn and push past your own limits sometimes. You’d hoped you’d get another chance before he left to head back to G-5 base at least.
But you’d been sitting on the gym floor with your legs criss crossed, headache still going strong despite your best efforts to rehydrate as you ate the meager rations they’d brought in from the mess hall for lunch. It was too inefficient for the class to cross campus all the way there and come back. So the kitchen workers had just brought you all some sandwiches to get by on before training would start again.
And you were eating your sandwich and thinking about nothing at all. A rare privilege really, when suddenly you felt like you were being completely stared through.
Someone else’s haki had focused on you? You were still pretty bad at being able to know the difference. But your muscles did tense a little as you glanced up slightly.
And as your head turned, you realized Vergo had walked to the edge of the room and was now on the phone with someone. Holding a small receiver in his hand, so the voice on the other end could not be heard.
Vergo’s sunglasses always hid his eyes, much like someone else you knew. But you took another bite of your sandwich as you pretended to brush crumbs off your shirt instead of looking at him directly.
It was so stupid, but you were trying to seem completely unbothered as you could barely hear the Vice Admiral’s voice over the other chatting sailors. But this classroom was not that big. Just open floor with exercise mats and mirrors, nothing to really absorb sound well. And why did you even care?
“No. She’s been here with us all morning.” He said.
Okay, that was a bit more interesting as you tried to remember how many females there were in the room then. Maybe only another two or three? Yes, it was actually only two others. You saw them now, off in another corner together. Not at all where he was looking.
He was absolutely looking at you. 
And you were watching a seam on the side of your boot by then, wondering why your heart rate kept increasing. You really strained your ears to listen further.
——————————
Doflamingo’s grip on the other end of that phone was incredibly tight. Enough to push some of the blood from his knuckles. But he did not break the snail’s receiver the way he’d done to the pen earlier. His voice was still low through his gritted teeth as he continued, “That piece of shit had the gall to come after me in my own house, Vergo.”
It was inexcusable of course. And even now the mansion staff were still trying to shovel the chunks of ice away floors below him. Doflamingo had shredded that frozen wall in a hateful fit not long after Aokiji’s departure of course.
The warlord had then immediately stormed upstairs as well. His mind forgot nothing, and he’d still recalled your number perfectly from before as he’d dialed it again then.
And he’d been pacing in his office, one fist clenching and unclenching, blood vessels pulsing on his forehead as the snail had only rang and rang.
He didn’t know what you had done to rile the admiral so thoroughly. But he was certain that you’d had some culpability in it all. Because you were just that infuriating.
It was fine if you had shown Aokiji what couldn’t be had. Doflamingo had even encouraged this, just as he’d given you permission to go out with the other man at all last night.
It would have been no different than when he’d paraded your body in front of Disco at the auction house. Because the obvious focus still should have been on the “could not have” aspect of it. 
But the admiral that he’d nearly just traded what surely would have been debilitating blows with, had not arrived here on just the thought of you alone.
No, that was the resolve of a man fighting for you. You had done something to make Aokiji feel as if you were still his to be defended. Doflamingo could see this no other way.
And even as he’d finally hung up that unanswered call to you, to ring Vergo instead, the memories from yesterday had still been so vivid as well.
Because you’d told him that you wanted him then. You’d told him that it was him alone that you thought of when you opened your legs at night. And he had believed you.
All this frustration for one goddamned bitch.
But Vergo was loyal at least, fully dependable in contrast to you as the vice admiral had answered right away. Vergo’s own snail was encrypted of course, fully safe while Doflamingo still paced and vented freely as soon as the other man was there to listen. 
Yet Vergo assured him that you’d been in sight all morning. That you were there right now in fact at some asinine marine class. If you’d put Aokiji up to this today, that conversation had to have taken place elsewhere.
But still Doflamingo wanted more. His current feelings couldn’t be sated with words alone. He needed to know that some sort of punishment would be carried out. Retribution for this pain in his chest that he couldn’t expel.
He hated you for it. The same way that he’d hated you as his finger tips had smeared through your tears in Disco’s office. Your wounded silence taking away all his pleasure as you’d broken too easily before him then.
“So what did you say, haki class was it?” Doflamingo grumbled in renewed question, trying to shake that mental image of you and your tears again. His hand was now running back through his hair. 
Fuck you and this feeling. No one could be allowed to humiliate him this way. So you needed to feel it in exchange, but even harder of course.
“Yes, training in armament.” The vice admiral replied.
“Then put on a lesson for me, Vergo. A decisive one.” But even through his cruel sneer, the warlord still found himself placing extra rules that he normally wouldn’t have. It was maddening.
“But not too far…I just want her to feel this. Go for the sternum, the ribs maybe. At least once hard enough to bring her down to her knees. The rest you can leave to me for later. I’m not done with her yet.” 
“I understand.” Vergo simply agreed in his usual flat tone, no judgment at all towards those heightened emotions still radiating from his master. “I’m sorry you had to experience this. I’ll take care of it.” He did add dutifully as well.
“Thank you, Vergo.” Doflamingo answered with another exhale. Finally sitting back down then at his desk, though still feeling no better for it. 
Yes, he also knew that in a way, this was exactly what he’d asked for. He had wanted to know the extent to which Aokiji may be a future problem. But in his mind, it’d been more him trying to gauge your lingering feelings for the admiral. Not the other way around.
He had truly underestimated your own hold on that man. Doflamingo had underestimated you.
A mistake he would not make twice.
——————————— 
“She what?” The incredulous, yet fully serious voice came as the large transponder snail on Fleet Admiral Sengoku’s desk now glowered into the room.
“I told you to tell her at the end of the meeting, not the beginning, if you were going to tell her at all.” Vice Admiral Garp chuckled at the predictable response, his big fist full of another round of potato chips before he shoved them into his mouth from the bag.
Sengoku scowled at the loud crunching sounds that followed. Garp sitting across from him in the office and generating a mess of crumbs. It was only the two of them here, plus the now angry female on the phone as Tsuru continued over the snail’s speaker.
“And you were just going to let me find all this out myself weren’t you?”
“The reception in Lyra is terrible, Tsuru-chan.” Sengoku tried. She was still stationed abroad. And even the high powered snails here at HQ had trouble reaching those distant mountainous islands like the one she was now on. “There was no point in-“
“Who brought her to the infirmary?” She cut him off again.
“Kizaru.” Garp answered, just speaking as he still loudly chewed. “Just an excuse to get back out of the damned rain I’m sure. The man bitches about it every time.”
“He’s also a terrible gossip. So this will be everywhere already then.” Tsuru sighed, the irritation from her still palpable.
“I mean, it is pretty goddamned funny.” Garp responded, knowing when he was likely pushing her too far. But he didn’t exactly care either. He feared no one. “Akainu about blew a gasket. If he didn’t want to be puked on, probably should have moved a little faster!”
“It was just his boots.” Sengoku clarified before Tsuru could react further. The fleet admiral was regretting letting Garp in here at all by this point.
This had been a previously scheduled meeting for an update on the rebellion in Lyra that Tsuru was currently addressing. But with everything that had recently happened with her own subordinate, Sengoku knew that Tsuru would want to know.
Firstly, the whole mess in Sabaody yesterday that you had been involved in. Tsuru hadn’t liked that at all of course considering which warlord was present for it. And now, just today some training incident that had gone off the rails. It was still confusing as to why it had escalated that quickly. But Sengoku was leaving this solely to Tsuru if she felt there needed to be any followup on it.
All Sengoku knew at this point was that Vice Admiral Vergo, visiting from base G-5, had moved his haki class outside to the yard to have more room for sparring exercises.
But somehow you and Vergo had taken things above and beyond everyone else. Blame, fairly or not, was also being put more heavily on you for choosing not to tap out when faced with a higher level opponent.
And at some point you’d been hit hard enough to land where two of the admirals were still supervising rookie drills. And you’d thrown up on Akainu’s boots, forcing Kizaru to talk the literal hothead back down while whisking you off to the infirmary.
The only thing Sengoku had heard since then was that you likely had some cracked ribs and a possible concussion. Luckily only that, but the fact that for two days in a row now you’d become the center of some utter fiasco was still worrying.
At least worrying to himself and Tsuru anyway. Garp seemed to find it entirely entertaining.
“She’s just a kid.” The more amused Vice Admiral replied. “You know we did the same shit back in our day.”
“Speak for yourself.” Tsuru grumbled, her impatience with him evident as usual. But she had grown up through the ranks with these two men, and she could also speak freely with them as she worried aloud.
“It’s not either incident alone which is the worst of course.” Her tone was changing the more she thought too. She sounded more troubled now. “The day I left her in Mariejois, I had concerns. And after that day I could tell that something was wrong. I thought it was that stupid boy Smoker. If it was, then you’d be right for once, Garp. Just children figuring things out.”
She sighed again. “But then you tell me he is involved with the auction house now. And that the day after dealing with him alone there, she’s now acting out enough to pick fights with Vice Admirals?” 
“You think it’s related?” Sengoku asked her.
“If Doflamingo upset or humiliated her, then yes. Her risk management falters quickly in those circumstances. She’d fight to her last breath to regain some sense of control or power in times like that. It’s a stress response for her.”
“But by the reports we have, there was no physical altercation between Doflamingo and your captain in Sabaody.” Sengoku offered.
Tsuru made a doubtful sound on the other end of the line.
“I don’t know why you still let that pink shitbird get under your skin so much, Tsuru-chan.” Garp grunted at that.
“He’s not a rookie pirate anymore. And his influence is only growing now that he’s a warlord too. I’ve learned the hard way never to discount him.” Was Tsuru’s rather cold response. “I’ll deal with it though. But please keep an eye on her for me in the meantime. It may be time to ship her back my way. I didn’t expect to be away from HQ this long. Base life doesn’t suit her very well regardless. She needs to get back out in the field.”
“Setting sail and bashing some pirates’ heads together is always the best medicine for all ailments.” Garp could at least agree somewhat to that.
“We’ll look at who has ships heading towards you next and let you know.” Sengoku replied, though fully realizing this would likely not be the last time he’d be hearing your name in relation to all this now.
They were getting too old for these new generation dramas.
—————————— 
You were essentially trapped now. The nurse on duty had threatened you with strong sedatives if you refused to stay in this bed at least another hour.
Their excuse was the need to continue monitoring you for signs of head injury. But if it was a concussion, you’d had stronger ones. Vergo’s fist had left you briefly seeing stars for sure, yet you hadn’t fully blacked out.
It was only that strike just below your chest that had done you in. Partially off center, and into ribs that Doflamingo had already weakened with his tantrum of yesterday. 
Even with your own armament up at the time, it was like Vergo had pushed energy straight through that barrier. Stronger than a bullet as he’d knocked you from the sparring area to win with an immediate out of bounds call.
Anyone else in your shoes would have tapped out long before then of course. But you just couldn’t. The more he’d hit you, the stronger you’d hit back. The more pissed off you’d been.
But it was still too much. And certainly too much for today as you’d been on your knees in the mud before you’d really known what had happened. Finally losing your lunch right onto those boots then in front of you as Akainu didn’t back away quickly enough.
Of course it was not in that admiral’s nature to move for anyone though. So why would he have? But he didn’t expect that resulting vomit as you’d coughed and struggled to breathe after Vergo’s last incredible strike.
Akainu had never liked you at all either. And for a moment you had felt the mud heating up dangerously below you as his temper had flared. 
Kizaru had grabbed you by the back of your shirt to get you out of the way then. Like picking up a stunned kitten really. An embarrassment in its own way as he’d also then volunteered to drag you to the infirmary against your will. 
And now you both remained here. You laying in one of the infirmary beds, watching the timer the nurse had set, and Kizaru sitting languidly in the chair next to said bed. One of his long legs crossed over the other as he seemed he truly had nowhere better to be.
“You don’t have to stay.” You said for probably the third time now. 
Kizaru’s arms were crossed over his chest, just perfectly unbothered in that almost annoying way of his. “It’s still raining. I’m fine here.”
Why they only ever called Aokiji the lazy one, you weren’t fully sure.
Maybe if he’d stayed quiet it wouldn’t have been so bad. But Kizaru couldn’t do that either.
“So…” His voice started up yet again. “This is what, three for three now of Captain (Y/N) related incidents? And the last two nearly within twenty four hours. You’re starting to outdo yourself.”
You really couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you or just noting this as interesting enough to comment on. But either way you didn’t like it.
“Well, are you going to write me up for something?” You asked flatly, not knowing what he expected you to do about any of this now. You were well aware that people were still talking about your dust up with Smoker in Mariejois. And of course the auction house yesterday, and now it would be about you, Vergo, and Akainu’s vomit boots today.
Troublemaker was another moniker of yours you often heard in not so quiet whispers. 
But Kizaru’s demeanor never really changed at your attitude. He just answered you with a question of his own. “If Aokiji never reprimands you, then what right do I have to discipline you either?”
Your eyebrows raised a little as Kizaru turned his head to make eye contact with you through those transparent sunglasses before he kept on.
“I don’t know what Aokiji’s dragging his feet for though. You always get him flustered. It’d just be the sensible thing for him to go ahead and admit it right?”
How your body could still have had the energy for that flush of heat to go immediately to your face when you’d just been pounded into the mud not long ago was a feat in its own right. But you didn’t hesitate much.
“Aokiji and I are just friends.” You said with the plainness of someone repeating a legal statement.
“Uh huh,” Kizaru answered, tilting his head a little as if working out a stiffness in his neck brought on by the cheap infirmary chair. “And water isn’t wet.”
———————————
Hours later you’d finally been alone in your room again. The sun had long since set and you were hurting all over as the remnants of mud darkened your shower drain. 
When that was done, you refused to even look in the mirror as you dried off. Your body was a battlefield by this point. Even you weren’t sure which bruise was from who anymore. Unless they truly looked like Doflamingo’s bites or sucks, it was anyone’s guess.
Karma wasn’t something you really believed in. Because you’d seen too many good people suffer and too many bad people win. But if you had done something to truly merit this, you could still only wonder what that would have been. 
Especially when an abrupt knock came at your door.
What in the fuck now? Was your first tired thought as you dropped your towel to grab a robe instead. You did tighten it well and pull the collar high before you went to the door.
There were no peep holes in these doors. Something that wouldn’t normally matter as you cracked the door just slightly, expecting one of your female neighbors at most.
But your breath caught in your chest as you saw that familiar admiral coat at your eye level instead.
And Kuzan said nothing, just looking down at you as you opened the door wider in surprise.
Yet you could smell alcohol again as you heard girls laughing in the distance. They were just entering the barracks from the outside. They’d be coming around the corner into your corridor shortly. They’d see him at your door, and you only in your bathrobe.
So you grabbed that stupid man by his marine tie, jerking him towards you as he did not resist. The door slammed shut as he disappeared into your room. Those girls not even noticing the sound over their own voices before they entered the hallway.
“What the hell are you doing!?” You fussed up at him. You’d already had to argue with Kizaru of all people earlier, likely the biggest gossip on base about these very kinds of things.
And Kuzan was just going to show up unannounced to make this all even harder? 
But he was just staring at you for that moment. He actually looked sad, sincerely so. In a way that had your anger melting away as his dark eyes stayed focused on you.
“Kuzan?” You asked him, more concerned then.
“I’m sorry.” His words finally came. He looked distracted, bothered. It was different things all at once. 
He moved away from you too, going to sit on the edge of your bed as the closest thing to take his weight off of his feet.
“You’ve been drinking.” You stated the obvious. It was much worse than he’d been last night. But you’d seen this before. You knew what it meant.
“What happened?” You asked him carefully, fearing the worst.
He was still watching you. That heavy look, his legs were spread. “I just…I just want you.” But he was almost fighting himself. Changing the meaning with just a few additional words. “I…want you to be okay.”
“You’re drunk.” You tried again, still not understanding at all where this could be coming from. “You can sleep it off here if you need to.” You would still protect him of course.
It wasn’t just about you. You did care about Kuzan’s reputation as well. He’d had his struggles with alcohol as most knew, but normally only when really triggered. He’d be sober by morning and no one would be the wiser. You could sneak him back out of here. It would be fine.
“(Y/N).” He just sounded more insistent.
You watched him carefully. That chilled vapor was coming from his mouth then. He needed to control himself. Your anxiety did increase as the room’s temperature continued to drop.
“Kuzan, you need to rest. Lay down.” You tried to sound more forceful as the chill bumps started across your skin.
“I can’t…because I can’t help you if you keep lying to me.” His eyes were so sharp, even if his voice was not.
And at this you did feel that first real tinge of fear. 
He stood again not long after. And when he did, you saw those ice crystals sparkling across your bedsheets from where his hands had been.
But you stood your ground as his long legs crossed the distance between you so easily. 
This man would never hurt you. Not on purpose. You knew this even as your own breath started to turn to vapor as he came to stand in front of you once more.
And his arm moved around your waist then. The other onto your shoulder. He was steadying himself. But it was so cold. It was as if that touch went straight through the thin robe direct to your skin as he said these new words.
“Doflamingo…what is he to you?”
The world stopped.
Maybe your heartbeat with it. Your legs felt numb. His grip was on you harder. He was the one holding you up now instead.
But you couldn’t make a sound. There was ice on your lips. Even before his own soft mouth had covered yours.
You didn’t even know if you were letting him, or if you really couldn’t move any longer. The taste was so familiar, but masked with the alcohol. That intense cold like drinking him into yourself as you felt the pain beginning in your lungs.
Ice crystals were forming inside your airway as you finally raised your hand enough to grip the side of his face. You dug your fingernails in.
It wouldn’t hurt him, his cheek was more ice than skin now. But he did feel it. 
As soon as his lips parted from yours just that slightest bit, you forced that frigid air back out enough to speak.
“Let me breathe.” But even as you said so, you hadn’t moved away from him at all.
And he understood. Not apologizing yet, but you could feel the ice beginning to withdraw. He was reigning himself back in just enough even as his face remained pressed against yours.
He did let you breathe as requested then. Your body heat reclaiming your lungs bit by bit as you felt his hand wandering up from your waist. He rubbed your back to assist in the gentle thaw as his power continued to recede.
But you still had to answer him. Even as numb and fearful as you still were. Did Kuzan think you were a traitor? Would he hate you? You had no idea how he knew about Doflamingo yet, and maybe even more importantly what he knew.
“We’ve had interactions.” You tried to start. The cold still stung your throat. “But it’s all new...”
Kuzan made a sound. He had lifted his head enough to look down into your eyes again. “So it’s true?”
His voice was different then. And you didn’t like that harshness. You wanted the softer man back from out of all this ice. “My loyalty is to my friends, to my crew, Kuzan. That won’t change.” You promised, but it sounded more like begging. “I’m a marine.” You said, as much trying to comfort yourself as him in this moment. 
“He’s a devil…he really is.” He said. “Why…why would you let him…did you let him?” And it was clear that Kuzan was still so unsure of which answer would be worse.
To live with the knowledge that Doflamingo had taken you against your will, or the equal torture in the realization that you may have actually wanted the madman to do it.
Was this the debate that had plagued Kuzan today as he’d poisoned himself with drink until he could stagger to your door? But still, why? How did he find out?
“It’s a bit of both.” You finally answered, unable to lie any further when faced with this weakened king right before you. Because he was a king to you. Kuzan commanded more respect with his selflessness than the Heavenly Demon ever could through cruelty.
But that logic didn’t make you immune to Doflamingo’s flames and that growing desire for him either. Far from it. It was as if the two of them combined could have made the perfect man for you. Fire and ice.
And what a selfishly deranged thought to think though. Especially when faced with the true pain that your indecisiveness between them could cause.
You didn’t give Kuzan time to reply. You didn’t want him hurting any longer. You resolved yourself to relieve this as much you could for him in this moment. At the very least you could do that as some form of atonement for whatever he’d suffered through today.
You’d had no idea he was still holding onto these kinds of feelings. But maybe so were you. Because this vulnerability was still something that Doflamingo couldn’t fully give you.
If the warlord even had a side like this. If he really did, wouldn’t he have just cut it out as a weakness long ago?
Kuzan had not forsaken any such faults though. You knew he hadn’t in the way his knees weakened as soon as you’d started kissing him again.
He wouldn’t stop you either. He didn’t want to stop as the two of you moved together to fall back onto your bed.
It felt so old and so new all at the same time. You knew just how to undo his tie. Your fingers remembered every button in his vest and his shirt. All those prestigious layers of that marine uniform cast to the floor one after another.
He wasn’t sobering up by any means, but he was more focused then. Wanting something too and controlling the ice so much better now, letting your hands move freely across him as you finally reached bare skin.
His broad chest, breathing for you as you kissed across it. But that milder cold still remained, assisting you even as it now dulled all the aches and pains across your own body. Your bruises, your cracked ribs, all these things that were meaningless to you in this moment.
When your hands ran down his flat abdomen to his belt, you did glance briefly back up to him. You saw that briefest hesitation in his eyes, but then he nodded.
You had his permission to go further. And you didn’t waste it, unbuckling the belt to open it, along with the button and zipper of his white pants soon after.
When it was all loose, he raised his hips to help you in sliding them off. His shoes had already come off sometime at the beginning. Socks now joining them with his pants on your floor.
He was just in his boxer briefs then. Not the instant nudity of Doflamingo who seemed to like nothing between his cock and the open air but those ever tight capris pants.  
You couldn’t help but keep contrasting the two men even then as you gently started to massage Kuzan through his boxers. 
But were you taking advantage of the weakened admiral in the same way that Doflamingo would so gladly have done to you now? And how could his hold already be this strong for you to even be thinking these things? The warlord was still in your bed in your own mind even as another man now laid down into it.
“It’s been a while,” Kuzan breathed out as you felt him beginning to tighten beneath your touch.
And at first you thought he meant since the last time you and he had actually been together like this. Because yes, that’d be years ago now.
But something in the needful way he still looked at you made you second guess that. Did he mean the last time since he’d been intimate with anyone at all?
“How long, Kuzan?” You asked gently then, realizing he may have neglected himself entirely. Which was completely unnecessary. Kuzan could have about any woman on this base if he actually tried. And he could be a complete flirt when he wanted to be. 
“Almost five months.” He admitted honestly. “A girl at a bar. I didn’t know she was just trying to get back at her boyfriend though.”
“Ouch,” you said affectionately before admitting your own previous record. “Smoker made me wait three months then dumped me.” You half smiled. 
It was something how quickly you could both tell each other almost anything again. Just like it used to be as you fell back into those old rhythms. But there was still that massive shadow hanging over you both. And he hadn’t forgotten it either.
“Did you and Doflamingo…” Kuzan started, even as his abdomen tensed, he was hard beneath those boxers now.
And of course he had a right to know. You could imagine that getting seconds from a pirate was not on any admiral’s wishlist to be sure. Also with the extra baggage of it being unprotected sex as well unfortunately. 
You hadn’t been in the position to demand a condom in either instance of course. Just praying that the pirate was wealthy and intelligent enough to have the right medicines on hand to keep himself clear of STD’s. Your marine issued birth control pills were a necessity you’d always kept to the daily regimen of as well.
Why Doflamingo had insisted on going in raw and not pulling out either you weren’t sure about yet. Whether that was just his reckless nature, or something more specific to you was far too soon to tell.
“Me and him? Twice…” You answered quietly, not without guilt still in your tone. Even if Doflamingo hadn’t gotten to finish you that second time in Sabaody.
Kuzan groaned. You knew if he was sober the reactions would have been so much worse. So maybe the alcohol was still a blessing in its own way. As it was now he just looked somewhat miserable again even as ice crystals still sparkled across the mattress around you both. “I just…don’t understand.” He told you.
“I don’t really either,” you admitted too. “And I don’t even know if I can…well, take you right now because of that. I don’t have any condoms here anymore.” You and Smoker had been together long enough to trust that each other were clean. And you were just trying to be up front. Plus you were still torn anyway. You probably couldn’t have endured him without serious ice to numb you again anyway.
But your hands worked fine. Your mouth worked fine if he wanted that. All he had to do was show that it was still okay.
“You don’t have to do anything for me.” He breathed instead as he reached for you then. “That’s not why I’m here.”
And he was then kissing you again, disregarding his erection as you felt him loosening the belt of your bathrobe. His cold hands slipped beneath it as he so gently pulled that last barrier from your shoulders.
You saw him lean back enough to look at you as it fell away. A light frown downturned his lips as he looked across all the damage. 
Kuzan sighed, fingertips tracing some of it with the cold growing a little more around you again. “Of you and me, I was always supposed to be the more self destructive one…when did that change?” 
Probably around the time that he’d first left you you thought to yourself. It had been so hard then. You had to get even tougher to keep going. But when you didn’t answer him, he just shifted you both so that you were now on your back in the bed, him above you as he straddled you. 
And in some way, being under him made you feel so young again. Like true innocent affection despite still being nude in bed with him right now. How those two things could coexist made about as much sense as anything else right now as he started kissing your collarbones.
You knew he was being so careful with you too, even as his lips moved lower to suck one of your breasts gently. His chilled mouth teasing you unintentionally as your hand reached up to stroke through his hair and down the back of his neck.
Kuzan had always joked about really liking breasts whenever he flirted with girls. Doflamingo had focused on yours a bit too. But not in the same way that Kuzan made them a real priority as soon as they were available to him.
If you had to pick a part of your body that Doflamingo had seized on most, well it was just the main attraction at this point. He just wanted to fuck you and nothing else as far as you knew. Whether by cock, tongue, or fingers, that man wanted to be inside.
Kuzan had never been that way though. He wouldn’t say no to the privilege of course, but he’d never been in a hurry. He would get there when he got there. It wasn’t about any specific endgame. It was just about being together.
And yet…even now as Kuzan’s mouth worked your chest and his hand slid protectively over your hip, you didn’t feel like this reunion changed a thing between you.
It didn’t feel like tomorrow would be any different than yesterday or the day before that. Maybe he had missed you. Maybe this was his own form of penance if he thought in any way that his prior actions had put you on a road to falling into the grasp of a man like Doflamingo.
But somehow you still knew that when the sun came up this ice would be melted again and he would be gone. Back to only being your friend.
“Kuzan…” It may be your only chance to ask, the alcohol dropping enough walls for him to answer you once and for all. This question that had plagued you even on the nights that it was Smoker instead who would have been above you like this.
“Hmm?” The admiral turned his head, just resting it against your chest then to listen to you.
You knew he could hear your heartbeat too in that position now as you brought your fingers back into his hair.
“Why did you really leave me…why wasn’t I good enough for you then?”
And he made another sound and you realized he had closed his eyes. But his expression looked somewhat miserable again. He didn’t want to talk about this.
“Kuzan.” You raised your voice a little. 
His eyes opened slightly. He was using your chest as something to rest against all the same. “I’m sorry…I’m just an asshole.” He murmured. “I couldn’t stay. I can’t have a family. None of it. My path doesn’t allow that…it’d just end only one way. I’d lose them…lose you.”
“And nothing has changed now, has it?” You knew the answer already. But you both needed to say it.
“No. It hasn’t. I can’t…”
“You can’t love me.” You finished for him.
“No.” He breathed. “Not that way.”
“It’s okay…” You heard yourself saying. Even with the pain that went through your chest at the final confirmation. “Nobody can.”
He lifted his head, just enough to look at you again. His eyes looked so tired. “That isn’t true.”
You smiled just barely. “It doesn’t matter. Doflamingo isn’t capable of it either I’m sure.” And before he could interrupt you for saying that name that he still didn’t want to hear, you asked something else. 
“So are you going to out me about him? I am still a marine like I said. He put me in a bad spot, but I did what I had to so that I was the only one he hurt. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I’m not a traitor, Kuzan. And if it does go too far, I know you can stop me. Is that what you really came here to tell me?”
And for the first time Kuzan had a trace of fear in his own eyes. But he was also too tired to do much more than interlace his fingers in yours then, with his head still on your chest.
“Hina is the only other one that knows. That boy told her what he saw and she told me. She won’t out you.” He took another breath though. “But I went and saw Doflamingo in Sabaody this morning…”
And an additional streak of fear cut through you at those words. But the most terrible thing of all was that you actually felt a concern for the demon himself. You had almost asked if Kuzan had hurt Doflamingo, if he had frozen him before you bit your lip to stop such insane words from coming out of your mouth.
“We didn’t fight. It came close.” Kuzan said, though his expression didn’t say how much he may have noticed your near slip. “But I thought about it the rest of the day. All day at the bar until I finally realized…”
He’d closed his eyes again. There was a new defeat in the way he’d draped across your body now. “I still don’t understand why it has to be true…but I realized he’s just the kind of man you like to fight with. And you love to fight so much…you always have. So he didn’t just choose you. You’re choosing him. Aren’t you? You wouldn’t give that rush up even if I begged you to…”
You were speechless. 
Kuzan nuzzled further into your bare chest however. He somewhat clumsily reached out to pull the blankets around you both as well.
“I’ll leave in the morning. I trust you…whatever you do.” He murmured. “But I’ll kill him the moment he goes too far. Don’t let him hurt you again…if he does there’s nowhere that pirate could hide from the ice age I’d bring.”
————————————
Late into the night, the rains had finally moved on. But the stress in Doflamingo’s mind had not. He knew that Vergo had carried out his orders just as asked. They hadn’t gotten to talk about it any more as he’d had to go into phone meetings as Joker the rest of the day. But no news was good news. It meant that everything was completed as expected.
The warlord had decided to let the hours pass by even further after that too. Trying to think out his next plans before he’d make any other move.
He’d busied himself with readying to sail for Dressrosa in the darkness. The Sabaody house would be out of play for a while as he’d gathered the things from his office. 
Even this morning’s threats from Aokiji hadn’t been enough to fully deter him though. He was apparently willing to risk it all as the longer the day had gone on, the more he’d realized that he wanted…no, needed to see you again.
He would absolutely still be holding you to that agreement of staying with him a few nights in exchange for the release of those slaves as well. Just not at Sabaody as things needed a longer pause there now.
The warlord had other houses though. Plenty of them that he could choose farther from Marineford. Somewhere more difficult for unwanted company to interrupt everything he wanted to have all the time in the world to finally do to you. He was sure his opportunity would come.
He hadn’t been boarded on his ship long at all, navigators setting course for Dressrosa as he’d headed below deck and away from the now clear, starlit skies. He’d actually considered just getting a quick nap in as he entered his captain’s quarters to sit alone on his bed as well.
He was more than tired after such a long day. He had more work he could be doing instead of sleeping though. The door was already shut and locked as he removed his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. 
The right eye was dry, the left stung even more than usual.
He sat in silence, opening only his right eye after another moment. He rubbed at the left eye, then blinking it to see only shadows and haze through it as always before closing it again to lessen the stinging. 
Leaving his glasses on the nightstand, he laid back onto the bed regardless. He’d kicked off his shoes and put his arms behind his head, probably falling asleep within a half hour at most.
At least until one of the snails rang anyway. There were always several wherever he slept. Different snails for contacts all over the world. 
Doflamingo actually just rolled over for once though, burying his face in his overstuffed pillow. Maybe that nap needed to be a few hours after all. But the snail just kept ringing. 
And with that amount of persistence he finally had to lift his head up to look. His right eye trying to focus on which snail it was before that eye did widen in realization.
A specific marine snail that hadn’t rang in quite some time was now vibrating among its peers. Doflamingo’s hair was still messy from rolling around in the bed as his strings brought that receiver quickly to his hand. And the snail with it as he pulled it onto the mattress beside him. Hurrying to catch the caller before they might finally stop.
“Well,” He said, already feeling that bit of adrenaline starting to rile him back fully awake too. It really had been a while. “What am I in trouble for this time?” He asked, with his hand partially going over his eyes in habit, as if to hide them even over the phone as he lay on his back again.
“Doflamingo.” Tsuru’s voice carried over. Not angry, not pleased, just fully Tsuru as she answered him. “I had thought you’d outgrown this childish fixation. You’ve been bothering one of my crew again.”
“Do you mean short skirt?” He smiled at her usual bluntness, but it actually wasn’t a harsh expression on his face. There was a little nostalgia here. It’d been years since he’d said that older nickname in front of Tsuru.
“I told you not to call her that again.”
“Captain is a lot more boring of an honorific, Tsuru-san.”
Of course, he should have been far more upset at this surprise. Because the moment that Tsuru would become involved between the two of you was inevitable, but also an entire new difficulty level that he may not currently be prepared for.
And yet, it wasn’t at all like being confronted by Aokiji this morning. Doflamingo truly didn’t mind hearing her voice again. Regardless of the circumstances.
“So what accusations am I facing then?” He actually yawned as he stretched within his bed, even without removing his hand from his eyes. “Apologies if you’re going to have to be more specific.” 
He could hear Tsuru’s resulting frown even without looking back to the snail, himself always irking her whenever he insisted on being so purposefully informal in their interactions. It was such an old game he never tired of. 
“Firstly, did you misbehave in Mariejois?” Her tone was sharp.
His lips parted slightly. If she was asking, then she was already quite sure that he’d done something. And she was even a step ahead of what Aokiji had been then. But of course he’d expect nothing less from Tsuru.
“She sat with me at the meeting while she gave her little report on the war for you. So professional. I did try to trip her, but that didn’t even work.” He admitted with another rare, genuine smile.
“Brat.” Tsuru grumbled. “But that can’t be the whole of it.”
“You’re the one that had to dangle her in front of me. I don’t know what you expected.” He dared to taunt a little without actually admitting more.
“As I said, I thought you’d outgrown that stupid fixation. You’re too old for this nonsense. Keep to your harems in Dressrosa and leave my crew alone.”
He laughed abruptly. Tsuru actually still saw this as a boyhood crush that he refused to release? He had teased her before about you in the North Blue days, yes. So he knew where she was coming from with this. But it was still something else entirely to hear her say it.
“But my pool girls at the castle can’t fight like she can. They can’t send you or even admirals to gut me like she can. It’s a completely different game. You know how much I like a challenge.”
“You can feel challenged all the way to Impel Down, boy.”
“Feh,” He was still smiling. “You’d miss me and you know it. Besides, we’re on the same side now like you always wanted. Why can’t it just finally be water under the bridge?”
“You’re still a pirate. And you don’t take care of your toys, Doflamingo. You break them and then you discard them. That girl has been with me since she was a teen. And unfortunately, I know you’ve had your attention on her since then too. But it doesn’t give you any right to her. You think everything belongs to you. That’s not how this works.”
He did frown a little then. But he wasn’t afraid to dig deeper, maybe even complaining to her actually about the injustice he still thought he’d suffered this morning. “You know you aren’t even the first marine to give me this speech today. Though it sounds a lot less patronizing coming from you.”
And there was a pause there. Which actually delighted him a little, with him having even a rare sliver of information that she did not.
“It was your Admiral Aokiji. I guess that’s her new marine beau again already? He came to my house in Sabaody this morning to bitch at me about having that little skirmish with her at the auction house. I suppose I must have made him jealous. He really was an asshole about the whole thing.”
But he couldn’t catch that woman off guard for long, as she absorbed this revelation easily. “Then I hope his ice gave you a wake up call. Just stay out of it. He’s not someone to be trifled with.”
“Neither am I,” The warlord’s pride did force him to remind her then, but he still wasn’t cold in tone. Not to her. “All I’m hearing though is that you all think I’m not good enough for her. It’s insulting. But let’s talk hypothetical since you took your precious time to make this call about her anyway. What happens if she falls for me instead? Do you excommunicate her from your little sailing brigade? Again, per the World Government, you and I are allies now. No matter how much you still call me a regular pirate. There’s nothing regular about me, Vice Admiral.”
It really had been some time since they’d conversed for this long. But Tsuru was always his match and more when it came to verbal debate as she responded without hesitation. “You’re fantasizing about things that can’t be. I have no doubt that you could hide behind your charms for even months or more if you chose to. But she’s not as ruthless as you’d require. And if it did become public, her rank would be frozen at best. She’d lose all credibility. And she’s worked far too hard to throw that away for a man who can’t even love her.”
Doflamingo felt his teeth grit. It was simultaneous to that slight twist in his chest again. Yet he didn’t lose his temper. “You’re so practical as always. But tell me the truth then. If I said I wanted to at least try, would you still do everything in your power to stop me? I don’t care what the world thinks of me. A kingdom of my own was my goal for so long. And now I have one thanks to Riku’s madness. So I’m chasing my next treasure. And I’m starting to think that it’s time for Dressrosa to have a queen. I could give her everything. You know that I could. Would it really be so terrible for her?” 
She finally sounded more irritated then, maybe even surprised for a single moment. This was of course the first he was confessing these new intentions to anyone. But it was only natural that she’d be the first to know as Tsuru answered him. “And the moment she does anything at all to challenge your ego, or your ideas of people only existing in tiers beneath you as your servants at best, would you kill her, boy? Because I don’t think you understand how to function any differently than that. A woman is not a toy, not a puppet, not a pet.” 
But she still took another breath, and here showcased the real reason why Doflamingo had tolerated this old marine mother for so many years. “I know you’re lonely. I know it hurts you. But forcing more people into your family against their will is only going to lead to another Minion Island. She’s a marine. She’ll always choose to save others even at the expense of herself in the end. Because that’s what we do. Even if you can only see that selflessness as betrayal to your own aspirations.”
His smile was fully gone as his hand slid away from his eyes then. If the snail copied the look in them now, it was what it was. Tsuru had seen these eyes before of course, and the pain that lived inside them.
“Rosinante never loved me, Tsuru-san. It’s not the same. And I know when things are worth risking and when they aren’t now. I’m smarter than I was then. She doesn’t have to be involved in anything unsavory.” And that was of course putting it lightly. “I don’t need another soldier. I already have plenty.”
“How long has this been going on then?” She asked, seeming to start to accept how very deep into this obsession he already was. How serious he really was.
“Since you recruited and flaunted her in front me years ago.” He responded, as if still blaming Tsuru for all of it too.
“That’s not what I mean and you know it. I made sure she was oblivious to your leering and your dirty comments back then. Because she had a right to grow up without that burden on her self worth. She was still a child.”
“But you still let Aokiji have her.” He retorted, and it was more spiteful there.
Tsuru sighed. They had already been through this too. Years ago when it had first happened. “Don’t you dare lecture me on morality, boy. I’ve raised enough daughters. There does come an age where they’re going to go out and find a partner whether you approve of it or not. And if you don’t let them, the rebellion and self destruction they’ll choose instead would be even worse. I knew he wouldn’t hurt her. Just as much as I knew it wouldn’t last. And it never will now either as long as he’s still wishing to remain an admiral. That’s his own choice after what happened to Zephyr. Kuzan doesn’t want to be close to anyone.”
Doflamingo’s eyebrows lowered. This didn’t make sense to him. And Tsuru had never divulged that extra tidbit before. Aokiji was afraid? “He was ready to try and kill me this morning if I so much as sneezed. He wants her that bad and yet he still chooses to be without her?”
“He chooses distance because he does care about her. You wouldn’t understand. And the only reason I’m telling you this at all is so that you don’t resent her for someone she’s not even going to have. I know how that mind of yours works. You’re the most jealous thing that ever breathed.”
He sneered a little. “Sometimes I think you lie about which devil fruit you really have. You see through everyone don’t you?”
“Not everyone. I know you commit far more crimes than I can put evidence to at this point. But if the question is just how you’ll react to something? Please, you haven’t changed at all.”
“Why do you always have to be so difficult?” He exhaled, even as that tension faded again. “What do I have to do to convince you? You talk about your daughters, but what about me? You keep telling me ‘no’ over and over, you know it only makes things worse on this side too. Let me pursue her, even if you think this will never work. Fine, I’ll walk away when I’m done. Just like Aokiji did. But if you keep blocking me, you know it just makes me want to tear right through those walls.”
“You still never answered me on how long this has been going on. You hadn’t asked me about her since you’ve been a king. Now all the sudden you’re fixated more than ever. Why?”
“It was Mariejois of course.” He confirmed. “The very moment you left her alone with me, Tsuru-san. Can’t you at least commend my patience? It only took that many years for you to think I’d forgotten about her.”
“And then Sabaody.” She said, taking her own deep breath, seeming to accept this as her mistake. Obviously she didn’t know the extent of what had happened in either instance. She only knew that his desire for you had been fully rekindled because of it.
“So, I answered you.” His voice was fully serious now. “You do the same. What do I have to do to prove to you that I can play house with her without any casualties? You never know, she might even like it enough that she decides being a queen is a better gig than being shot at by pirates all day long as a marine.”
Tsuru still scoffed. “I can’t hand her over to someone whose going to inevitably destroy her. I don’t know how more plainly I can say that. You’ll never have my blessing.”
And there was a deeper desperation that must truly be there for him to use this comparison now. “But I’ve never truly hurt you. We’ve argued, and we’ve pitted our soldiers against one another like pieces on a chessboard over and over. But I never have gone for your throat, have I? And I won’t. And you know why.”
The silence in that moment made him smile again. Aokiji had been such a prick to think he was truly lying about this this morning. “I didn’t force you into my family.” Doflamingo kept on. “All those years ago, when you took that wounded boy you so pitied into your heart willingly. So let me do the same for her. I have room for you both in what’s left of mine. Because a boy will always need his mother figure. But now this man wants his queen as well.”
“I don’t think there is a heart there anymore, Doflamingo. Even as remnants. But, I’m not going to waste more breath on what you clearly have already decided. So I’ll say this. I can’t stop her. But I will tell her the truth. Everything I know about you. And unfortunately, it doesn’t break any written protocol we have for a marine to fraternize with a warlord given your government immunity. So I can’t formally punish either of you. But as I said, it absolutely would be a social stigma that could ruin all she’s accomplished. And I’ll warn her of that too. In short, I’ll do all I can to show her the terrible choice you would really be.”
“I can accept that challenge.” Doflamingo did smile again then. This was the best it would possibly be then. He was realistic enough to know that. So honestly, it almost did feel like a victory. 
And Tsuru always had the perfect read on every situation as long as she had enough information to do so. The ‘Great Tactician’ they still called her.
So Doflamingo also believed her when she said that Aokiji would not take you back. Not fully or publicly anyway. And the warlord could live with this too. Because it meant that you’d never truly belong to Kuzan, even if he still wanted you. Because half measures weren’t enough for you. You were an all or nothing kind of woman.
And Doflamingo would now be the only one of the two of them willing to go all in.
His grin had stretched from ear to ear once more. 
He’d won.
“Well anything else to berate me with before I hang up? I think I’m actually going to sleep well for once tonight. So thank you. I do enjoy these late night chats. We should get them back on a regular schedule again shouldn’t we?”
“Mind yourself, boy. Nothing’s changed. Slip up and I’ll have some nice chains for you on your way to Impel Down.”
“Love you too, Tsuru-san.” Doflamingo laughed, that word of course sounding so unnatural just by the nature of the man it came from. But he still liked to say it to her for how much it pissed her off each and every time that he did.
And as she immediately hung up on him to prove her reaction indeed remained the same, he just smiled into his pillow as he buried his face again. There was a large weight off of him now. He’d be back to sleep very soon.
He’d actually let you sleep uninterrupted tonight as well, wherever you were. He could call you again tomorrow and start this chase all over again.
——————————
    T⨂  BE 
CONTINUED
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Thanks for reading!
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lesbehonestsstuff · 1 month ago
Text
The solution to an argument (Casey/Alex/Olivia) *smut*
When Olivia and Casey fight they FIGHT like screaming at each other fully stubborn butting heads. More often than not it ends with a forgotten argument and angry sex Alex arriving later finding a mess and trail of clothes that lets her know an argument happened. She finds them in bed naked in each others arms a little disappointed because she doesn’t like it when they fight. They are apologetic pulling her into bed and showing her how sorry they are.
Word count: 5148
(Yes they’re power dynamics are weird but that’s because I believe they interact differently depending on if there’s two of them or three)
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The tension had been building all day, simmering, just waiting to explode. Olivia had been on edge, snapping at everyone and everything after a particularly difficult case. Casey, always a bit more sensitive to Olivia’s moods, had tried to stay out of her way, but it seemed inevitable that the storm would come crashing down between them.
It started with something small. A comment, a jab, something Olivia muttered under her breath about Casey’s handling of a witness. Normally, it would’ve rolled off Casey’s back, but today… today it hit her like a punch to the gut. She’d had her own rough day in court, and Olivia’s criticism, no matter how subtle, was the last thing she needed.
“What did you just say?” Casey asked, her voice sharp as she spun around to face Olivia.
Olivia barely glanced at her, too tired and too irritated to see the warning signs in Casey’s posture. “I said, maybe next time you should think twice before—”
“Don’t.” Casey’s voice shook with anger. “Don’t talk down to me like that, Olivia. I’ve had enough of it today.”
Olivia, already keyed up, bristled. “I’m not talking down to you. I’m being honest. You were too emotional with this case.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” Casey shot back, her eyes flashing with anger. “You’re the queen of letting your emotions get in the way. How many times have you blown up a case because you couldn’t keep your cool?”
Olivia’s fists clenched at her sides. “This isn’t about me,” she growled. “I’m trying to help you before you trample your own case.”
“I don’t need your help!” Casey yelled, her voice breaking. “I need you to stop treating me like I can’t handle myself!”
Olivia’s eyes narrowed, her own frustration bubbling over. “You’re the one who always needs coddling, Casey. Maybe if you stopped being so—”
“Say it,” Casey snapped, stepping closer, her face flushed with anger. “Go on, say it. You think I’m what? Weak? Emotional? Is that it?”
Olivia’s jaw tightened, the words hanging between them, too dangerous to speak but too close to the surface to ignore. “You’re not weak,” she said through gritted teeth. “But sometimes… sometimes you let your emotions take over and cloud your judgment.”
Casey’s chest heaved, the anger that had driven her this far pushing her harder against Olivia. “Maybe I wouldn’t feel like that if you didn’t make me feel like I have to prove myself every damn day!”
The shouting escalated, their voices rising and crashing against the walls of the apartment. It was like this sometimes, when they fought, they fought hard. Neither one willing to back down, neither one able to let the other win. They were both stubborn, both too proud to admit when they were wrong.
But beneath all the shouting, there was something else, something raw and tangled between them, something that burned hotter than the anger.
Olivia’s face softened for a split second, but she couldn’t stop herself from firing back. “I don’t make you feel like anything, Casey. You’re the one who always thinks you have something to prove.”
“Maybe because you’re always waiting for me to screw up!” Casey yelled, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m not perfect, Olivia. I can’t be perfect.”
“I don’t need you to be perfect,” Olivia said, her voice dropping an octave, frustration still thick but cooling.
The tension crackled between them, the air too thick with everything unsaid. And then, as quickly as the argument had begun, it shifted. The fire in Casey’s eyes wasn’t just from anger anymore, and Olivia, for all her toughness, felt the pull too. There was always this edge between them, anger that turned into something else entirely.
And as quickly as it escalated, it dissipated. The argument fell apart like all their arguments did, forgotten in a wave of heat, words left hanging in the air as they closed the space between them.
Casey lunged forward, closing the distance between them, her hands fisting in the front of Olivia’s shirt as she crashed her mouth against Olivia’s. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was all fury and heat, all of the pent-up frustration pouring into that one desperate kiss.
Olivia stumbled back, but her hands immediately found Casey’s waist, pulling her closer, fingers digging into her hips as she kissed back. It was messy and wild, their mouths battling for control, but neither wanting to give it up.
The kiss broke for only a second, and Casey growled low in her throat. “I’m not weak, Olivia.”
Olivia’s grip tightened, her lips brushing against Casey’s in a taunting, breathless whisper. “I know you’re not.”
Casey’s nails raked down Olivia’s back, hard enough to leave marks, but Olivia only hissed in response, her eyes flashing with something dark and feral. She spun them around, pushing Casey against the nearest wall, their bodies slamming together in a tangle of limbs.
“You’re so damn stubborn,” Olivia growled, her breath hot against Casey’s neck as she nipped at the sensitive skin there.
Casey let out a low moan, her head tipping back to give Olivia more access, her fingers threading through Olivia’s hair, pulling her closer. “Takes one to know one.”
Olivia’s hands roamed lower, sliding under Casey’s shirt, her nails scraping against Casey’s bare skin. The feel of it, the roughness of Olivia’s touch, the sharpness of her nails against her delicate skin made Casey’s breath hitch.
Casey’s fingers fumbled with Olivia’s belt, yanking it open with a frustrated sound. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”
Olivia’s lips curved into a dark smile against Casey’s throat as she helped shove her pants down. “Then don’t.”
In one swift move, Olivia had Casey’s legs wrapped around her waist, her body pressed flush against the wall as their mouths met again in a rough kiss. Casey’s hands slid under Olivia’s shirt, hands tracing the hard muscles of her back as she rocked her hips forward, grinding against Olivia, the friction sending shocks of pleasure through her.
Olivia let out a low groan, her hands slipping under Casey’s panties, fingers teasing over her skin, making Casey gasp.
“Liv…” Casey’s voice was breathy, barely a whisper as she pulled back just enough to look into Olivia’s eyes. There was still a spark of defiance there, but it was tempered by something softer, something that made her grip Olivia tighter, needing her in that moment more than she wanted to admit.
Olivia’s hand dipped lower, fingers sliding through Casey’s wetness, teasing her entrance. “Say it,” Olivia murmured, her voice rough, her lips brushing against Casey’s ear. “Say you need me.”
Casey bit her lip, a moan escaping her as Olivia’s fingers pushed inside her, the slow, deliberate thrusts making it impossible to think of anything else. Her nails dug into Olivia’s shoulders, her head falling back against the wall as her body moved instinctively, chasing the pleasure that Olivia’s touch brought her.
“I need you,” Casey gasped, her voice breaking, her breath coming in ragged pants as Olivia’s fingers curled inside her, hitting just the right spot that made her cry out. “God, I need you, Liv…”
That was all Olivia needed to hear.
With a growl, Olivia’s pace quickened, her fingers thrusting deeper, harder, as she kissed Casey again, swallowing the soft whimpers and gasps that fell from her lips.
Casey’s body tensed, her muscles tightening as she teetered on the edge; she was already dangerously close and she knew it. The pleasure made her nails bite into Olivia’s skin as her hips bucked against her hand. “Liv… I’m gonna…”
Olivia’s free hand gripped around Casey’s waist, holding her up and steady as she pushed her over the edge. “Come for me, Casey.”
The words were a command, and Casey’s body obeyed, pleasure crashing through her in waves as she came hard, her cries muffled against Olivia’s mouth as her body shook with the force of it.
For a moment, they stayed like that, Casey shaking in Olivia’s arms, her breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts as she clung to her. Olivia’s fingers stayed inside her, teasing her through the aftershocks, her lips brushing soft kisses along Casey’s jawline.
Casey could still feel her pulse racing, her body buzzing from the aftershocks of the orgasm Olivia had wrung from her. But she wasn’t done—she wasn’t close to done.
As Olivia pressed soft kisses to her neck, still holding her against the wall, Casey let out a breathy chuckle, shifting slightly to get her bearings.
Olivia pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, her lips quirking up. “What’s funny?” Olivia asked, her breathy.
Casey smirked, feeling the adrenaline from their argument mix with the lust still simmering between them. “You think you’re in control,” she teased, leaning forward to kiss the corner of Olivia’s mouth. “But you forget who you’re dealing with.”
Before Olivia could respond, Casey slid down from Olivia’s waist, her feet hitting the floor with a soft thud. The moment she was grounded, Casey took hold of Olivia’s shoulders and spun them around, pushing Olivia back until her legs hit the bed. Olivia stumbled, her eyes wide with surprise and arousal, and fell back onto the mattress.
Casey climbed over her, straddling her hips, pinning her down with just enough force to keep her still. The roles were reversed now, and Casey felt a rush of satisfaction as she watched Olivia’s breath hitch, her pupils dilating with want.
Olivia’s hands instinctively reached up to touch her, but Casey grabbed her wrists, pinning them above Olivia’s head. “Not yet,” Casey whispered against her lips, teasingly close but not giving in to the kiss. “I’m not done with you.”
A low growl rumbled from Olivia’s chest as Casey leaned down, her lips ghosting over the curve of Olivia’s neck, her breath hot against her skin. “You think you’re the only one who knows how to take control?” Casey murmured, her tongue flicking out to taste Olivia’s skin.
Olivia shuddered beneath her, her hands twitching against Casey’s grip. “Casey…”
But Casey wasn’t in the mood for talking. She slid one hand down Olivia’s body, tracing the curve of her waist before slipping it between them, her fingers brushing over the growing heat between Olivia’s thighs.
“Already so wet for me,” Casey muttered, her voice a mix of amusement and hunger as she cupped Olivia through her panties. “You’re such a tease, Liv.”
Olivia’s hips bucked at the contact, a soft groan escaping her as she arched into Casey’s touch. But Casey wasn’t about to give in just yet. She dragged her fingers slowly, teasingly, over the fabric, watching the way Olivia’s eyes darkened, the frustration and desire building with every second that passed.
“Casey…” Olivia’s voice was strained now, her body tense beneath Casey’s as she struggled against the hold. “Stop teasing.”
But Casey smirked, loving the power she held in that moment. “You think you can just get away with everything, don’t you?” Casey taunted, her lips brushing against Olivia’s ear as she slipped her hand under Olivia’s waistband, finally touching her bare skin. “You push me around, piss me off, and expect me to just roll over.”
Her fingers dipped lower, finding Olivia soaked and ready. Casey’s breath hitched at the sensation, the warmth, the slickness that told her Olivia was just as desperate for this as she was.
Olivia’s hips lifted, silently begging for more, but Casey kept her movements slow, her fingers tracing over Olivia’s folds with infuriating patience. “But this time,” Casey continued, her voice soft but firm, “I’m going to make you beg.”
Olivia let out a frustrated groan, her head falling back against the mattress as Casey finally slid one finger inside her, slowly pumping in and out. It was nowhere near enough, but the tension, the maddening tease of Casey’s control, had Olivia panting, her body trembling with need.
“Is this what you want?” Casey whispered, curling her finger inside Olivia just enough to draw a low moan from her. “Is this what you’ve been craving?”
Olivia’s hands gripped the sheets above her head, her jaw clenched as she tried to hold on to the last thread of control she had left. “Fuck, Casey…”
Casey grinned, loving how she had Olivia, fierce, unrelenting Olivia, completely at her mercy. She added another finger, increasing the pace just slightly, watching as Olivia’s hips rocked in time with her movements.
“You look so pretty like this,” Casey murmured, leaning down to kiss the hollow of Olivia’s throat, her fingers moving faster now, driving Olivia closer to the edge. “So strong, so tough… but when it comes to this, you’re putty in my hands.”
Olivia’s breath came in ragged gasps, her body tense and coiled beneath Casey’s as she chased the release that was just out of reach. “Casey… please…”
That word, please, sent a thrill down Casey’s spine. She’d won. Olivia was begging, and there was nothing sweeter than the sound of her name on Olivia’s lips in that breathless, desperate plea.
With a triumphant grin, Casey finally gave in, thrusting harder, faster, her fingers finding that perfect rhythm that made Olivia’s body arch off the bed, a strangled cry escaping her as the pleasure mounted.
Casey’s free hand slipped under Olivia’s shirt, her nails raking over Olivia’s ribs, leaving marks in her wake as she pressed harder, deeper, her fingers curling inside Olivia just right.
“Come for me, Liv,” Casey whispered, her lips brushing over Olivia’s jaw, her breath hot against her ear. “I want to hear you scream my name.”
Olivia’s body tensed, her muscles trembling as she teetered on the edge, her nails digging into the sheets. “Casey… I’m…”
With one final thrust, Olivia’s body shattered, her orgasm hitting her with brutal force. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed through her, her entire body shaking in Casey’s arms.
Casey held her through it, her fingers slowing but never stopping as Olivia rode out the aftershocks, her breath coming in heavy, uneven gasps. When it was over, Casey gently pulled her hand away, her lips pressing soft kisses to Olivia’s flushed skin as she collapsed beside her on the bed.
When Olivia finally caught her breath, she pulled back just enough to meet Casey’s gaze, her lips curving into a small, satisfied smile. “You’re still an asshole.”
Casey chuckled, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “Yeah,” she murmured against Olivia’s mouth. “But you love me anyway.”
Casey’s smile widened as Olivia kissed her back, her arms wrapping around her neck, pulling her close again. “Yeah,” she whispered, her breath warm against Casey’s skin. “I do.”
By the time Alex returned home from her meeting, the apartment was unusually quiet. Too quiet, she thought, as her eyes skimmed over the living room. Papers were scattered across the floor, a jacket flung over the couch, and furniture slightly displaced.
Her lips curled into a faint smirk. It didn’t take much to figure out what had happened. The trail of clothes leading down the hallway towards the bedroom confirmed her suspicions.
With a quiet sigh, Alex set her bag down and followed the path of discarded items—a jacket, a shirt, one of Olivia’s boots, Casey’s pants—each piece marking the evidence of the storm that had clearly taken place. It was always the same when Olivia and Casey fought: passion flaring in anger, only to dissolve into something much more intense.
Reaching the bedroom door, Alex pushed it open gently, and sure enough, the scene inside was exactly what she had anticipated. Olivia and Casey were tangled together in bed, bare skin glowing in the low light of the room. Olivia was on her back, one arm draped protectively around Casey, who was curled into her side, both of them looking far too content for Alex’s liking considering the likely chaos that had preceded this.
Alex lingered in the doorway for a moment, her gaze taking in the sight of them—peaceful now. A small smile tugged at her lips, but it quickly gave way to a look of mock disapproval.
“What am I going to do with you two?” she asked softly, stepping further into the room.
Olivia stirred first, her dark eyes blinking open to find Alex standing there. A slow, guilty smile spread across her lips. “Hey,” she said, her voice still husky from sleep and… other things.
Casey, more sensitive to tone, shifted in Olivia’s arms and turned her head toward Alex. The moment her eyes met Alex’s, she winced slightly, already anticipating the teasing scolding. “Lexie…” she murmured, her voice soft, as if that one word could erase whatever they’d done.
Alex crossed her arms, pretending to be unimpressed, though the warmth in her eyes betrayed her. “Do I even want to know what started this?”
Olivia stretched languidly in the bed, her muscles flexing subtly beneath her skin, a lazy grin playing on her lips. One that sent a shiver down Alex’s body. “You know how it goes,” she said, her voice deep and unapologetic. “We… had a disagreement.”
Alex raised an eyebrow, though her gaze flickered to the way Olivia’s hand absentmindedly trailed down Casey’s back, tracing the curve of her spine, fingers brushing against her skin. “A disagreement?” she repeated, voice dry. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
Casey shifted under the sheets, biting her lip as she met Alex’s eyes, her own gaze playful. “We’re sorry,” she said softly, slipping out from under the covers to reach toward Alex, leaving her on display for Alex to see, her mouth almost watering at the sight of Casey naked and covered by hickeys Olivia had placed all over her. She sat on her knees on the bed in front of Alex, her fingers brushing Alex’s thigh. “Come here?”
Alex sighed, though she could feel need shoot down to her core when Casey started to unbutton her pants. She felt Olivia’s eyes on them, filled with lust when she saw Casey’s hand dip into Alex's panties. The warmth of Casey’s hand against her made her breath catch in her throat. She couldn’t stay annoyed—not when they both looked at her like that, not when Casey was playing with her, gently teasing her.
Olivia’s dark eyes watched them carefully, and she looked like she was about to drool at the sight. “Come on, Alex,” she murmured, her voice dipping low as she shifted in the bed, the sheet sliding down her body, leaving Alex to feel like she had too many clothes. “You know we didn’t mean to exclude you, and we didn’t mean to leave the house a mess.”
Alex’s breath hitched slightly at the way Olivia’s voice dropped, the unspoken invitation hanging in the air. She had always been the one to hold back, the one who kept her head cool, but even she wasn’t immune to the pull between them—especially not when they both looked at her like this.
With a small shake of her head, Alex lifted Casey’s chin up, pulling her into a deep kiss, her tongue dipping into her mouth, making Casey’s fingers pause their movements. "Stop teasing me, darling."
Olivia stood, going behind Alex, kissing her neck, pressing her body against hers. Her fingers trailed along Alex’s arm in a way that sent a shiver down her spine, and soon enough, Olivia was pulling her shirt off in one swift movement, while Casey pushed her pants down, leaving her in just the dark blue set she had put on that morning. “We missed you,” Olivia whispered, unclasping Alex's bra and letting it fall to the floor with the rest of their clothes.
Casey’s hand slid up Alex’s chest, tracing light patterns across her skin, squeezing, and then going up to bring one of Alex's nipples into her mouth, sucking gently while her other hand played with Alex's clit over her underwear, making her let out a small moan. “We’re sorry we fought.”
Olivia’s hand gently cupped Alex's jaw, her thumb tracing the line of her lips before leaning in to place a slow, deliberate kiss. “We’ll make it up to you,” she whispered, her voice low and full of intent as she pressed another kiss, this time deeper, similar to the one she'd shared with Casey.
As Alex’s lips parted under Olivia’s, Casey’s hands resumed their path, tracing upward from Alex’s hips to her breasts. Casey’s breath was warm against her skin as she murmured against her neck, “Yeah, we’ll make it right.”
Alex shivered, torn between amusement and desire, though the edge in her voice softened as her body responded to their touch. “I should be mad at both of you,” she whispered, her voice breathless as their hands continued to explore her body, leaving no part untouched. Alex’s fingers threaded through Olivia’s dark hair, pulling her in closer as she watched the fire in Olivia's eyes grow darker. “But I’d rather you show me how sorry you are.”
That was all the encouragement they needed. Casey crawled back onto the bed while Olivia gently pushed Alex to follow. Settling back against Casey’s chest, Alex let out a soft sigh as Casey’s hands slid around to cup her breasts, fingers teasing her hardened nipples while laying kisses along her shoulder and jaw.
Alex’s breath hitched when she caught sight of Olivia making her way up the bed, settling between her legs. Olivia's teasing smile sent a spark of anticipation through Alex as she ran a finger over the damp spot on Alex's underwear. “You're already so wet for us, baby,” she teased, her voice low and teasing.
Alex whimpered when Olivia’s finger traced the fabric, her back arching against Casey. Olivia slowly peeled the last barrier of clothing away, her lips leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down Alex's thighs. Her tongue flicked out to leave a few small bites and marks, each one sending a shudder through Alex’s body until she was writhing in Casey's arms.
“Olivia Benson, I swear to God, if you don't stop teasing me—” Alex’s words were cut off by a gasp as Olivia tugged her panties down and Casey pinched her nipples, pulling her further into her hold.
Olivia's fingers finally dipped between Alex’s legs, gliding through her slick folds before finding her clit, tracing it with a slow, torturous rhythm. Alex's hips bucked instinctively, her breath coming out in shallow pants as Olivia played with her, her pace agonizingly slow. When Olivia’s fingers finally pushed into her, Alex moaned softly, her body arching in response. Casey’s hand found its way down between Alex's legs, gently rubbing her clit in tandem with Olivia's movements.
“That’s it, baby,” Casey whispered against Alex's ear, her voice sending shivers down her spine. “Let us hear you.”
Alex, typically the quieter one of the three, let out a louder moan as the pleasure intensified, her voice filling the room. Olivia’s fingers curled inside her, searching for that perfect spot while her mouth continued to trail kisses up Alex's thighs.
Alex’s body clenched around Olivia's fingers as she neared the edge, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Casey turned her head, capturing her lips in a deep kiss, swallowing her moans as Olivia's fingers worked faster and deeper inside her.
When Alex finally broke the kiss, her voice was hoarse as she begged, “Please… please!”
Olivia smirked, almost tempted to tease her more but relented, curling her fingers in just the right way. “Cum for me, baby,” she commanded, her voice rough with desire as both she and Casey pushed Alex over the edge.
Alex’s orgasm ripped through her, her back arching off the bed as she cried out, her body shaking as they continued to work her through the waves of pleasure. Olivia held her hips down as her fingers continued pumping into her until Alex was trembling, completely spent.
Her breathing came in heavy, ragged gasps as she tried to regain control, her body still twitching slightly when Olivia finally removed her fingers. Casey and Olivia laid soft kisses across her skin, Olivia making her way back up to Alex’s face, her fingers wet from where they had been inside her.
Without hesitation, Olivia brought those fingers to Casey’s mouth, who took them eagerly, sucking them clean, her eyes dark with lust. Alex moaned softly, watching them, her body still thrumming with aftershocks.
“You taste so good, baby,” Casey purred in Alex's ear, pulling Olivia’s fingers deeper into her mouth before finally letting go.
Olivia grinned, her eyes flicking between the two women. “Why don’t you get an even better taste of her while I grab a little surprise?” she suggested, her voice thick with need. She gently pulled Casey from under Alex, guiding her out of bed.
As Casey stood, Olivia gestured for Alex to scoot closer to the edge of the bed. When Casey bent over the mattress, her face inches from Alex's still-wet core, Alex already knew what Olivia had in mind.
Olivia disappeared briefly into the bathroom, emerging moments later with their dark blue strap-on—the one Casey loved the most. She strutted over, leaning over Casey’s back, gripping her hair softly. “Now, you’re going to be a good girl and eat Alex out while you take my strap, okay?”
Casey’s pupils were blown wide as she nodded eagerly. But Olivia wasn’t satisfied with that. A firm slap landed on Casey’s ass, making her gasp. “I need you to say it.”
“Yes! Please… please fuck me, Liv,” Casey begged, arching her back and lifting her hips to give Olivia better access.
“Well, go on, then,” Olivia urged, pressing herself against Casey. “Make her cum.”
Casey wasted no time, diving in between Alex’s legs, her tongue immediately licking through her folds. Alex’s head fell back as the first touch of Casey’s mouth sent sparks through her still-sensitive body.
Behind her, Olivia teased the tip of the strap against Casey’s entrance, slipping just the head in before pulling back, drawing out a desperate moan from Casey. The obscene sounds of Casey eating Alex out, paired with Alex’s quiet, breathless gasps, drove Olivia to push deeper inside Casey, setting a steady rhythm as her hips moved in time with Casey’s tongue.
“Fuck… Case…” Alex moaned, her voice high and breathy as Casey’s tongue flicked across her clit. Olivia thrust into Casey harder, her own breath growing ragged as she watched them both fall apart beneath her. She reached down, rubbing Casey’s clit as she fucked her deeper, feeling Casey clench tightly around the strap.
Casey’s moans were muffled against Alex, her movements frantic as she chased her release, her tongue slipping in and out of Alex in time with Olivia’s thrusts. Alex grabbed a fistful of Casey’s hair, her hips bucking against her mouth as she felt herself reaching the edge once again.
“Come on, baby,” Olivia encouraged, her voice hoarse with lust as she thrust harder. “Let go.”
It only took another flick of Casey’s tongue and the roll of Olivia’s hips to send Alex spiraling into another orgasm. Her cries filled the room, her body jerking against Casey’s face as Olivia slammed into her from behind.
Casey came right after, her whole body trembling as Olivia’s hand pressed harder against her clit, pushing her over the edge. They both moaned in unison, their bodies shaking as they rode out their pleasure together, their gasps for breath filling the air between them.
Olivia finally slowed her thrusts, collapsing onto Casey’s back, who in turn, fell against Alex. The three of them lay there, tangled together in a heap of exhausted, satisfied bodies.
Alex was the first to move, tilting Casey’s chin up and kissing her deeply, tasting herself on Casey’s tongue before pulling back to kiss Olivia as well, giving her a taste.
They stayed that way for a long while, content to bask in the afterglow. Alex played with Casey’s hair, Olivia still nestled deep inside her, laying soft kisses on her back. Eventually, Olivia pulled out, discarding the strap beside the bed, her breath still ragged as she settled back between Alex and Casey. The room was filled with the lingering heat of their shared passion, the three of them tangled in a mess of limbs and slow, steady breaths.
Olivia pressed soft kisses against the back of Casey’s neck, her lips trailing up to the corner of her jawline, while her hand found Alex’s, threading the sound of their ragged breaths. Casey hummed, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her release as she nestled closer to Alex, her lips brushing the blonde’s collarbone.
“Maybe you two need to fight more often,” Alex teased, her voice hoarse but playful as she smirked at them. Olivia chuckled softly, her chest rumbling beneath the weight of their bodies.
“You know, you’re insatiable, Cabot,” Olivia murmured against her skin, nipping lightly at her shoulder before leaning over to kiss her deeply, tasting the remnants of the moment still fresh on her lips. When Olivia finally pulled away, she kissed Casey’s cheek, feeling her smile against her mouth.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Casey replied with a tired laugh, her hand finding Alex’s waist and pulling her closer. “But… maybe next time we can skip the fighting and go straight to the making up.”
Alex rolled her eyes playfully but squeezed Casey’s hand, her thumb brushing over her knuckles as she stared up at the ceiling, her mind slowly drifting away from the haze of pleasure. Alex closed her eyes, she exhaled a slow, steady breath, feeling the comfort of their presence, in the way they touched her, in the way they loved her.
For a long while, they simply lay there, wrapped up in each other, the afternoon sun casting soft golden light over their entwined bodies. The rhythm of their breathing slowed, and eventually, Casey shifted, pulling the blanket up over the three of them, cocooning them in warmth. She pressed her lips to Alex’s temple and whispered, “Rest, baby.”
Olivia’s arm draped over them both, pulling them in closer. “Love you,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper, her lips brushing the top of Alex’s head.
And with that, Alex’s eyes fluttered closed, a contented smile on her lips. The three of them drifted off to sleep, the tension from earlier completely gone.
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