#but I can still try! maybe. I also want to draw stretch

[capricioussun]

Neonfell doc

(I didn't sleep so bear with me here, this might have a lot of needed editing, idk, that's a problem for post-sleep me)

[gloomwitchwrites]

make out sesh with 141 guys pls??? 🥺🙏🏽🛐

A make out session? Oh, yes please. I will say, thank you for leaving the prompt open. I was able to completely run with it and make it my own. I really hope what I’ve cooked up is satisfying. It was fun putting this together!

You’ve got some undercover work and pretending not to know each other, to deny feelings and then admitting feelings, to being sold to pay off a debt (dubcon on this one), and a brief pretend relationship.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): dubcon kissing (Ghost & Price), arguments, uncover missions, suggestive themes, swearing, denial of feelings to admitting feelings, pretend relationship, Crime AU

Word Count: 2.5k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Come here.”

Kyle grabs your wrist and pulls you in the opposite direction. You spin into him, his other arm going about your waist.

“What are you doing?” you ask, volume spiking slightly in surprise.

“Follow my lead,” he murmurs, backing you into a dark corner of the packed bar.

The roar of the crowd is loud, but with Kyle caging you in, it all seems to dampen a little, as if the two of you are in your own world.

“Kiss me,” he says.

“What?”

“We need to blend in.” Kyle turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder., checking the room. “Kiss me,” he insists, lowering his head until the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

Kyle is leading this mission. It’s not like you to question orders, but you also aren’t sure what it is he notices in the crowd.

“Okay,” you mutter, grasping the back of his neck to pull him close.

Closing the distance, you press your lips to Kyle’s, expecting him to remain emotionless and passive. But he surprises, subverts your expectations. Kyle melts under your kiss, returning with more enthusiasm than with what you offered. You’re momentarily surprised, and in that opening, Kyle advances, turning the simple kiss into something more.

His tongue delves, and you taste him.

For a moment, you forget that you’re on a mission, and that this is Kyle, your coworker and teammate. A little moan escapes you, and Kyle responds by placing his hand on your ass, squeezing tightly, forcing you to remain still as he goes in for more.

Time stretches, and the sounds of the packed bar become distant memory. All you know is Kyle. All you understand is the feel of his hands and the way he devours you.

You’re completely lost. Spiraling. Slipping—

Kyle breaks away, and the loss is agony. His chest heaves, lips slightly puffy from your kisses. He laughs. Smirks. Rests his head against yours.

“Got lost there,” he whispers, and your heart flutters.

“Me too,” you affirm, wanting to say more.

Kyle draws back. Glancing over his shoulder again, he checks the room.

“Gone. Good. We can go.”

No, you think. Why can’t we stay here?

John Price

“Go on, doll. Sit in his lap.”

Hovering between remaining still or doing as your told, you glance at Captain Price for guidance. The man is your superior even if you don’t directly take orders from him. But in this moment, he’s not Captain Price, is he? He’s a customer sitting with a man looking to swap drugs for weapons. And you’re supposed to be a hired dancer.

When you agreed to the undercover mission, you expected to shake your ass, maybe even grind in a few laps. Ultimately, you’re there to listen and observe. Yet the target developed a liking to you, bought you so that you’d come dance for him privately.

And now he’s telling you to go sit in Price’s lap.

“Hey! You listening to me?” The target, Damon, snaps his fingers to get your attention. If you weren’t undercover, you’d punch him in his fucking face. “Go sit in his lap. I’m not paying you for fucking laughs.”

You try to give him your best smile but it comes out a grimace. Obediently, you turn, moving toward Captain Price, hips swaying languidly. You’re practically naked right now. Just platform heels, a thong, and a shiny bikini top that barely covers your nipples.

Captain Price watches you intently, and though he retains eye contact, his gaze slips a few times, moving downward before quickly snapping back up again.

With exaggerated movements, you kneel slowly, straddling his lap as you settle in his lap. Price keeps his arms outstretched over the back of the sofa, but his gaze never leaves your face.

“Sorry,” you whisper, because you know Damon can’t see.

Price remains silent.

Damon laughs. “Give him a kiss, doll.”

You inhale deeply, eyes closing as you do so. On the exhale, you open them, waiting for Price to give some sort of clue.

And he does.

It’s so small you won’t even notice unless you were looking for it.

Placing your hands on Price’s chest, you lean forward seductively, popping your ass out and arching your back. You press your lips to his. You expect him to remain passive and unmoving, but Price surprises you, grasping the back of your head to pull you in.

“Give the man some tongue,” Damon shouts over the music.

You want to turn around and hurl something at the idiot, but you comply, hands settling on the top of Price’s shoulders as you go in for more kisses. Price doesn’t push back or resist. If anything, he indulges each one, matching the energy and intensity. He tastes like whiskey and of the cigar he just smoked.

There is no end to it, only Price’s mouth, and the feeling of his hands as he brings them in to touch and caress. It’s not so out of place, there are two other dancers in the room, one of them is likely going down on Damon based on the wet slurping sounds you hear.

But all becomes too much—too intense—and you have to draw back to catch your breath. There is no anger in Price’s face, if anything, you find something unfamiliar.

A hunger.

Desire in those blue irises.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Every pounding step you take shepherds you away from Johnny. Beneath your skin is a buzzing as if your bones and blood vibrate.

“Slow down.”

Johnny’s voice is sharp and desperate. But you do not slow down. How can you? You can’t face him.

He yells your name and the urge to glance back is agony. Yet you remain steadfast.

“Fucking—bloody hell. Slow down.”

As you turn the corner, the exit appears, your freedom moments from reality.

You’re so close.

So—

A large hand grabs your upper arm. You’re yanked backward, dragged into a nearby conference room. Johnny shuts the door and pushes you up against the wall. He has one hand planted firmly against the wall next to your head and the other on your waist. His hips press against yours.

“I hate it when you run,” he growls.

“You didn’t have to follow.”

Johnny chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Just admit it.”

“Admit what?” you snap.

He presses in even more, casting you completely in shadow. “How much you want me,” he murmurs, voice an inviting croon.

There is a wanton nature in you. It craves Johnny like a bird craves to soar with the wind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you gasp.

It’s a lie. You do know.

The desire to close the distance, to press your lips to his is undeniable.

“Don’t lie,” he says, creating no room for movement.

Johnny rests his forehead against yours, the tip of his nose brushing your cheekbone. His warm breath teases your skin, dancing across your flesh. There is only a fraction of space, and all you need to do is tip your face upward, to present yourself to him.

“Johnny,” you whimper, and he groans in response.

“I know you love me,” he whispers, but he’s not really saying it to you, almost like he’s trying to affirm what he already knows. “You love me.”

Don’t deny yourself.

I know you love me.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you reply softly.

Johnny smiles as he closes the distance. The first kiss sends an electrical shot through your system. The connection is instant, a driving force that has your body stirring. Hands move to Johnny’s abdomen, circling to his lower back, pressing to get him even closer.

Each one is deep and suffocating. There is hunger in each one, but it’s the moment his teeth snag your bottom lip that you surrender entirely. Opening, Johnny slides his tongue inside, and you moan for him.

That one sound ignites something in him. Johnny’s hand against the wall drops, coming to rest at the base of your throat. He presses, shoving you harder against the wall and he claims your mouth. His other hand travels to your thigh, squeezes.

You’re grasping for him too, fingers digging into clothes and skin, wanting—no—needing him closer, as if you could fuse your bodies together forever. When you push against him, Johnny retaliates with pressure on your neck. You gasp, breaking the kiss, only for Johnny to go in and gently suckle on your tongue.

“Now,” he murmurs. “Tell me again that you don’t want me.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I’ve come to pay off my father’s debt.”

A pause. Then—

“He’s already paid.”

You frown. “That’s impossible.”

“Are you saying I’m lying?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Never. Just—”

“The debt is paid.”

It’s impossible. Entirely unlikely. Your father is too much of a drunken risktaker to have paid off his debt to Ghost so swiftly. There’s something else going on. A deal, maybe. But you have the money—in cash—he can’t say no to you.

“But I brought the money,” you insist.

Ghost falls back against the cushioned lounge sofa, one arm resting along the back as he observers you from behind the balaclava. All you can see are his brown eyes, and you cannot read his expression.

“What makes you think I’ll take it?” he asks slowly.

Behind you is a black curtain. This area of the club is VIP. The fact that you were let back here at all is a miracle.

“Because I know my father didn’t pay off the debt in cash. He had to have paid some other way.” You twist slightly, opening up your bag to reach for the money. “And I’m here to clear it.”

Finding what you’re after, you present it, holding out in front of you boldly. It’s the only language men like Ghost understand.

He’s not looking at the cash at all, but at you. “You’re right. Your father didn’t pay with cash.”

“Then you can take it.”

You purposefully avoid making it a question. In this, must insist. Ghost could come after not just your father, but you. If you’re lucky, he might take some possessions. Worst case, your life.

Ghost casually spreads his legs, and lightly taps is thigh. “Come here. Sit.”

You blink. “Take the money,” you insist again, an exasperation leaking into your tone.

He chuckles, low and deep and harsh like whiskey. “No. But I’ll take you.”

Your arm starts to hurt, and that little ache weakens the muscles, causing your arm to drop slightly. “I’m not on offer.”

“You were when your father came to see me.”

No. No.

“You lie,” you whisper.

“And I accepted,” he says like it’s a non-issue. “Always had a bit of a soft spot of you anyway.”

Unbelieving, you move forward, this time holding the cash out like a weapon. The two bodyguards on either side of him move forward but Ghost raises his hand. They halt immediately, hands on their weapons and gazes focused in on you.

“Take the fucking money,” you growl.

This time, you see the smirk behind the balaclava. It’s in the way the skin around his eyes wrinkles slightly. Ghost finds this amusing.

When he says nothing, you throw the cash down on the table, and turn your back on him. It’s not smart to give a man like Ghost your back, but you’re pissed. You charge forward, intending to stomp right through the curtains and out of the club. But his bodyguards move to block your path, barring the exit.

“Let me through.”

“I told you,” Ghost calls out. “Your father paid his debt.”

You whirl, trudging forwarding, walking around the table to get as close to him as you can. “I will not—”

Before the sentence is even out of your mouth, Simon is grabbing your hips, yanking you into his lap.

“There,” he coos. “Just as I told you to do.”

You’re too stunned to move. Too surprised to speak. Here you are, straddling this man’s lap, his hands boldly grasping your ass, his gaze—interested.

Your mouth opens. Shuts. Opens again.

“Let—let me go.”

Ghost shakes his head. “Too late for that. You’re mine now.”

When he says mine, his hands lightly squeeze your ass and then drag downward to do the same to your thighs.

He glances over your shoulder, his expression becoming dangerous. “Leave us,” he commands, and the bodyguards disappear.

Ghost’s brow smooths, and then his tone shifts to a familiarity that makes you shiver. “Now that you belong to me, how about a kiss?”

“I’d rather kiss a donkey,” you snap, and Ghost laughs.

“Think you’ll find kissing me more pleasant.”

You scoff, but Ghost’s hands squeeze again, his pelvis lightly grinding against you.

“Go on,” he whispers, voice enticing and welcoming. “Push up the mask. Let me taste you.”

This violent man isn’t to be trusted. And you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. But your hands move up his chest, traveling to the balaclava, fingers curling under the edge. Lifting slightly, you reveal his neck. It’s covered in tattoos, and as you bring the balaclava higher, you find scars and then—his mouth.

Ghost licks his lips, and a stirring heat rises in you. He leans in, and you find yourself giving in.

“I won’t be your whore,” you murmur as you descend.

“No,” agrees Ghost. “You’ll be so much more.”

When your mouth meets his, it’s nothing more than a kiss. Simple. Clean. No teeth or tongue. Just two people closing the distance. He is not tentative though, and when he goes for another, you accept without hesitation. That seems to be the shift, the thing that changes him.

With a low growl, Ghost drags you entirely against him, and there is no subtlety in it. He claims your mouth repeatedly, stealing your breath, making you question everything you know about yourself. A man this dangerous shouldn’t cause such emotion. It shouldn’t make your pussy wet or for your stomach to flip.

But he keeps kissing, and kissing, until you’re grinding against him, meeting Ghost with equal need. And when his tongue teases your lips, you happily open for him, tasting him as much as he tastes you. Each time you try to pull away, to catch your breath and create some distance, Ghost is pulling you in again, and you allow it.

Your father’s debt is paid.

And it’s you.

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@unclearblur @kurochan3

[wendichester]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ☾ . cuddles post-hunt,

summary. tired sammy is a soft cute cuddler .ᐟ

pairing. sam winchester + reader

wordcount. 642.

The motel room is quiet, save for the faint hum of the heater in the corner. You’re stretched out on the bed, the scratchy comforter bunched up around you, scrolling through your phone. When the door creaks open, you glance up to see Sam stepping inside. He looks tired—more than tired. His shoulders are slumped, and his hair is sticking up in a way that would be funny if he didn’t also look like he could pass out on his feet.

“Finally,” you say, locking your screen and tossing your phone onto the nightstand. “Thought maybe you got lost in the parking lot.”

Sam shuts the door behind him with a quiet click, managing a tired smile as he shrugs out of his jacket. “Wanted to scout the area. Make sure we're safe.”

“Of course, you did." You smile faintly as you watch him shrug out of his jacket and toss it over the chair, his movements slow, like even that takes too much energy. He's exhausted and it shows on his face.

He sits down heavily on the edge of the bed, his long legs stretch out in front of him, and for a moment, he just stares at the floor, like he’s trying to convince himself not to collapse.

“Hey.” You scoot closer, nudging his arm lightly with your knee. “You good?”

He lets out a slow breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Just... long day.”

“Try 'long week'.” You flop onto your side, propping your head up on one hand. “We totally kicked ass, though. That spirit? Toast. Literally.”

Sam huffs out a laugh, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He moves on the bed, his head tipping against the headboard. “Yeah,” His voice is soft, almost apologetic, like he's trying not to let the weight of the hunt bleed into this moment.

You don’t say anything—there’s no need. Instead, you slide an arm around his waist and rest your head against his chest. It takes him a second, but then he shifts, wrapping an arm around you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder.

He lets out another sigh, this one quieter, and you feel the tension in his body start to ease. “This is nice,” he murmurs, his voice so low you almost miss it.

“Yeah,” you agree, your fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of his shirt. “It is.”

The room feels warmer now, not just from the heater but from the quiet comfort of being close to him. His heartbeat is steady under your ear, a soothing rhythm that makes your eyelids feel heavy.

“You’re always so warm,” you murmur sleepily, snuggling closer.

Sam chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Perks of being freakishly tall, I guess.”

You smile, but it’s small and lazy, your body already starting to relax. His hand starts to move, his fingers drawing slow, absentminded patterns on your arm. It’s soothing, almost hypnotic, and you feel yourself drifting.

“You okay?” he asks quietly after a moment, his voice gentle.

“Mmhm,” you hum, barely lifting your head. “Perfect.”

Sam’s hand stills for a moment, and then you feel his lips brush lightly against the top of your head. It’s such a small, tender gesture that it makes your chest ache in the best way.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You tilt your head up to look at him, your eyes meeting his. There’s something soft and unguarded in his expression, a look that makes you feel like you’re the safest place he’s ever known.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise, your voice just as quiet.

His arm tightens around you, pulling you impossibly closer, and you settle against him again, letting the warmth and safety of the moment wash over you. The world outside can wait. For now, this is enough.

[yanderedrabbles]

This is a thought I’ve had ever since i read your yandere outlaws story: what if you (try to) run away with one of the outlaws…could you even do that…. Would the poor guy even survive if you two get caught

Which of the yandere outlaws would run away with you?

CW: noncon, violence, knife play

You can't exactly ask the boss to run away with you. He's got responsibilities, authority. His men rely on him. If he wasn't the boss though? Yeah, in that case his loyalty would stretch very far at all.

The gunslingers absolutely would. But is it really a good idea? Without the boss around, there's no one keeping them in check. How much tighter will their grip be, with no one to scold them for the bruises?

They're the type to make you earn their help, and then force you to keep paying off that favour for the rest of your life.

"Mighty dangerous thing you're askin' pretty."

"How you gonna compensate us for our trouble?"

The wrangler absolutely wouldn't. Which is a real pity, since he's probably the only one with the skills to evade tracking. But he's also loyal to a fault.

"I wish I could beauty, but there are some debts that can never be repaid."

The kid, hmm. Yes. Maybe. It depends on how much time they give him. The outlaws know he's still soft, so I don't think they'll leave him alone with you for too long. He's young and guilty. You can definitely manipulate him.

"I'll...I'll do it. Just don't tell anyone, 'kay?"

The second in command, the man who claims to love you. You'd think all it would take is batting your pretty eyes and asking him to take you away from all this. And you'd be partly right. If it was any other gang, he'd be gone with you by morning.

But despite all their flaws, these outlaws are his brothers. He owes the boss his loyalty.

He's also a practical man. He knows it will be considered a betrayal. And the boss isn't one to let that slide. Even if he did make it out with you, he'd spend his whole life looking over his shoulder. And what kind of life is that?

"No. You belong here. Nowhere else."

But let's ignore all of that and assume you do manage to run away. How will the outlaws react to you and the traitor?

The boss will shoot them. It doesn't matter who. And then he'll bend you over the nearest thing and fuck some sense into you. Rough this time. Not holding back. You've proven kindness is wasted on you. Anal probably, dry and unprepped.

You realise for the first time exactly how thin his patience is. How cold and terrifying his anger. He'll be clipped and curt the entire time. "Move it." "C'mere." "Suck it." No sweet pet names this time, no treating you like his little girl. You want that softness? You're going to have to earn it back.

The gunslingers will make a game of it. Say whoever finds you gets to have you all week. They'll kill the traitor slow. Maybe leave him out for the ants and coyotes. And then they'll tell the boss you need to be punished.

They're the kind of bastards who'll slap a knife against your pussy just to see you shiver, scrape the tip against your inner thighs. Never drawing blood but always getting oh so close. 

Double penetration too, until you're too cock drunk and hurt to even think about running.

The wrangler is the one who can track you down the fastest and also the first one to figure out if you're plotting something. He won't tell the others. He'll just follow you and come out of the dark like a ghost. Shotgun levelled right at your heart. He won't kill the traitor, but the cold glint in his eyes shows you exactly how close he is to doing it.

When he gets you home, he'll make you sleep in his bed. So if anyone mentions your absence, he can say you were with him.

He won't be angry with you. Instead, he'll just hold you. His chin on the crown of your head as you sob into his chest.

"I'm sorry beauty. But there really is no way out. Wherever you run, I will always find you."

If it's the boy who finds you, it's a toss up. He might let you go, might remember how much you cried that first day. He might still be a good person at heart.

Or, he might see this as his opportunity to finally earn the rest of your body. That's what the gunslingers said, remember? If he wants to fuck you, he needs to earn it. And what better way than to bring you home?

The second in command almost never gets angry, but this time? He doesn't even bother with a gun. He kills the traitor with a knife. Rips his throat out and leaves him to bleed out on the desert sand.

He's explosive. Grabs you by the jaw and throws you against the wall. Kisses you before you can fall, ripping your clothes off with one hand. He's the worst of them all when it comes down to it. His anger making him twice as cruel and thrice as callous.

He fucks you with the other man's blood still splattered across his face.

"You wanna be like that? Don't like it when I'm nice? Fine."

He'll fuck you dry, his hand around your throat the entire time. His lips just the tiniest bit away from yours, just watching the fear and the tears. Revelling in them. When you're done, he shoves you down on the bed.

"Open your fucking mouth."

He'll make you suck the blood and come off his cock, pulling your hair so hard it gives you a migraine.

He'll grab your jaw so hard the bones ache, and yank you up to his lips.

"I'll fucking kill you next time."

You believe him. 

[giuliettagaltieri]

Not Her Man

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Feathers fall gracefully slow

Warning: Girlrotting

Word Count: 3193

Part 1 • Part 3

You were always scared to do drugs.  

You saw Rafe at his highs, you were with him, keeping him from doing anything stupid like when he was so sure he could backflip from Tanneyhill’s rooftop and land on the grass perfectly. 

But you also wondered how difficult it was for him to get clean.  To suffer from withdrawals.  And as you lie on your fur carpet, staring at the glimmering crystals of your chandelier, with your closet half emptied and scattered all around your room, along with rolling wine bottles on the polished hardwood floor of your bedroom, you think you might have understood just a little.

Blocking him was the hardest thing you have ever done in your life, especially when it was your routine to giggle over whatever interaction you had through text that day.  The itch to open his account for any update made you want to bind your hands together.

Your parents are out of the country, busy overseeing their business, forgetting to oversee their daughter.  Your maids were there for you, at least they try to be.  They bring you food on schedule, even sliding in a few scoops of ice cream every now and then in your room when your sobs start to echo around the halls.

Rafe tried to contact you multiple times.  First, through your phone, but you blocked him.  Next, he tried to throw pebbles at your window, but your seventy-six year old gardener fired a shotgun at him, thinking that he was a burglar.  Next, he tried a different approach, he was sending you gigantic bouquets of your favorite flowers, making the hallway leading to your room look like a wedding set up, the flowers perfumed the entire house too, drawing a concerning amount of bees.  One epipen to your chef’s thigh later, Rafe stops sending them.

He never really does anything right.  All he does is mess up, create more problems for himself.  You almost wanted to give in, but you remind yourself of the things he said.  Anger and hurt quickly replaces pity.

A familiar chime of your phone had you groaning.  Your friends are probably going to have another attempt of making you step out of your room, like inviting you to have your nails done or shop, just to get your mind off of Rafe.

You just let the ringtone end and you go back to staring at the chandelier, wondering if you’ll be quick enough to get out of the way if it somehow falls.  Before you can plan a strategic roll, your phone rings again.

Blindly reaching underneath the scattered pillows, you finally locate the buzzing device.  You answer without looking at the caller ID. 

“Y/N speaking.”  You mumble lazily.

“Hey, girlie.”  There goes the high-pitched voice of your friend.  “Sooo, the girls and I-hush!”  You hear a bunch of girls giggling behind the line and your brows crease together in annoyance.  “We’re going on a party tonight and we’re thinking that maybe you’d liketocomewithus?”

You play with the lace of your dress, eyes just following the patterns when you hear your name being called again over the phone.

“I’m not in the mood for parties.” 

“You are never in the mood for anything anymore.”  She whines behind the line.  Her tone prompts you to sit up to pick up the stale wine you left out in the open for too long.  Taking a sip and ignoring the thin coat of dust it caught after you ransacked your closet for something that made you look confident, only for you to end up squeezing in the dress that Rafe got you as a present for your 13th birthday.  He didn’t pick it out for you, of course, but it still made you all fizzy and bubbly and excited inside.

You put down the wine to scratch at the waistband that is digging on the skin of your under bust, the fabric being stretched beyond its capacity.

“I know.”  You tried to sound apologetic.  “I just can’t, okay?”

She sighs, making you let out a grateful sigh.  There’s still some ceiling viewing you had to get back to.

“I’m picking you up at seven.”  She speaks with finality and before you can answer, she continues.  “Please don’t let that awful man get the satisfaction of knowing that he has this much effect on you.”  You can hear her begging behind the phone.  She and the other girls are just looking out for you.

With an unwilling heart, you decide to get on your feet, your socked foot nearly slipping the moment it touches the wooden floor.  Cursing, you finally crouch on the piled up clothes you threw earlier. 

“Fine, I’ll come.”  You roll your eyes.  “Dresscode?”

You hear an airy chuckle and you can imagine her pinching your cheeks if you were within her reach.  “Party’s open to all, Kooks or Pogues.  In the community beach house.  You dress however you like.  I’ll match your vibe, if you’d like.”

This makes a smile creep on your lips.  She’s definitely on the top 10 list of the most annoying people you know but you thank God everyday for a friend like her.  “You know I love you, right?”

She snorts before bursting out in a fit of laughter.  “Duh.  I love you too.”

“See you later.”  You grin.  “Tell the girls I’m coming too.”

“Sure, see you!” 

You hang up and get started on searching for the right outfit.  Well, there’s the classic white flowy dresses, but everybody wears them.  You could wear a short and a cute top, show some belly?  Blech, you’re not exactly in one of your maneater moods.  But perhaps if you covered it with that oversized white pinstriped polo, it could work?  Yeah, something casual yet put together.  It’s not like you’re dressing to impress anybody, or somebody in particular, you’d prioritize comfort over fashion tonight.

A knock on your bedroom door pulls you from your thoughts.  With a shrug, you throw your chosen clothes on your bed.

“Coming.”  You call while trudging over to open the door.  There stood your maid, she was looking anxious, wringing her wrinkly hands.  “What is it?”

She glances at your odd choice of clothing before she looks away so as to not make you uncomfortable.  “Well, uhm, Sir Cameron is here again, miss.  He’s waiting for you downstairs, in the drawing room.”

You press your lips in a firm line.  “Tell him I’m not here.”

Your maid smiles apologetically.  “He…he saw you in your bedroom window before he came in, miss.”

Huffing, you tap your feet impatiently.  “Just tell him I’m busy.”

“He said you’ll say that.”  She mutters, amusement in her tone.  “And he asked us to tell you that he can wait.”

You close your eyes to keep them from rolling.  “Whatever, he can stay as long as he likes, but I’m not coming down to meet him.”  You push the door a little wider and your maid’s eyes widen at the state of your room.  “I’m sorry, I know you’re busy but can you help me clean up?”

The rest of the afternoon was spent tidying up your room. 

It was dark out, a couple of minutes past seven when your phone buzzed.  Knowing that it’s your girlfriends, you pick your bag, filled with the usual party necessities and head downstairs.  It’s a habit, assigning yourself as the responsible friend who stays sober to look after the others.

You are slipping in the pearl bracelet your grandmother got for you last Christmas when you hear your name being called and in instinct, you turn around.

“Oh, right.”  You say with a tone that is drier than the Sahara desert.  “You’re here.”

Rafe’s standing just outside your drawing room, his hands falling to his side.

“Yeah.”  He spoke awkwardly, his eyes glancing at your outfit, familiarity crossing them before he looked at your eyes again.  “I was waiting for you.”

You exhale softly and he just stood there, waiting for your reaction.

“I know.”  You say simply.  “Gotta go.”  You start walking again to your door.

“Wait, Y/N.” He easily catches up.  “You’re…you’re coming to the party, right?”  He asks hopefully.

“Yes.”  You respond without looking at him.

Rafe smiles but it quickly dissipates when he sees a different car waiting for you.  “Hold on, I can drive you there.”  He says quickly, his hand gripping yours just to get you to listen to him.  “I can drive you to the party.”  He says in an uncharacteristically sheepish way.

For a second, you look at him, really look at him.  His smile grows wide.  He missed having your eyes on him.  You’re his best friend, and he’s used to doing everything with you by his side.  He also liked how dependent you were on him too, always asking for his approval.  You have a bit of an overbearing attitude but he would be lying if he’ll say that he doesn’t miss you doting on him too.  Perhaps you’re not the only one who’s dependent on this odd friendship you both have.

“No, thank you.”  You say before pulling your hand away with a sharp look thrown his way.  He watches you walk away to greet your friends.  He’s still stuck there, staring, even after the car drives away.

He doesn’t understand it.

You’re the emotional one, why are you doing so well without him?  You never go to parties with other people, it was always him that you stick close to.  Clinging on him, pulling him to the dance floor when he’s about to do a line of coke, or accidentally knocking his cup when he’s had too much drinks.

Running a hand through his face, Rafe decides to hop on his car and follow you to the party.  You’ll be in the same space as him in the next few hours.  He’ll get another chance there.  He’s certain of it.

He didn’t get the chance.

With you by his side all the time, you memorized his set of activities at parties and you evaded him perfectly.  Rafe decided that it was best to stand by the punch table.  You’d get thirsty eventually, and he’ll be there waiting if you do.

On the other side of the house, farthest from Rafe, there you sit by the porch swing, admiring the push and pull of the waves.  The party was at its climax and everybody was cramped inside the house, dancing and drinking, or doing unholy activities.  You don’t know how you managed to slip away from your friends but you’re glad you did.  You needed the fresh air.

You’re just starting to get comfortable when a man stumbles out the door.  You watch him struggle to keep himself up.  He looked lost? Or just flat out drunk.  You watch in amusement as he scratches his blonde head, he must be having a whiplash from all the blinding neon lights inside and suddenly his vision switches to the bright light provided by the LEDs. 

His feet twist and he starts to fall to the side, your head tilting to follow his fall.  You wince when you hear the loud thud of his body hitting the floor, followed by his muffled but loud groaning.

“Motherfu-”  He sits on the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he shakes his head like a dog.

“You alright, JJ?”  You chuckle.

He whips his head to you, cursing again when his vision spins.  “Y/N?”  He drawls out while rubbing his eyes.  “You saw everything?”

Still laughing, you get up to crouch next to him.  “I did.”  You smile when he groans out again.  “Are you okay?”

He props up a knee and rests an arm there, he looks buzzed, his eyes are heavily lidded as he stares off into the ocean.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  He glances at you.  “Well, this is a strange sight.”

“What is?”  You mumble as you look away from him, deciding to play dumb.

He shrugs animatedly, hands gesturing to you and the entire space of the porch.  “Usually, wherever you are, your boyfriend is not that far behind.”  He points a thumb behind him.  “And if I wasn’t imagining it, I’m pretty sure I just saw him brooding over the drinks.”

You chuckle dryly as you bring your knees to your chest.  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

JJ looks at you with an unimpressed face.  “That’s all you heard.”

Playfully punching his shoulder, you sigh.  “We fought.”

He frowns, back straightening immediately.  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”  It’s kind of sweet how your words seemed to have sobered him really quick.

“No!  No, he didn’t.”  You reply right away.  “Well, at least not physically.”

You watch him grimace.  “Outside physical fights, I have little to no idea how to respond.”

“That’s okay, JJ.  I don’t wanna talk about it, anyway.”

He gives you a boyish grin, as if to reassure you before scratching at his jaw, your eyes mindlessly follow his movements and you see a scratch.

“You’re hurt.”  You tell him, pointing at your own jaw.

“Huh?”  He touches his jaw and winces.  “Ow!  Must’ve scratched myself when I…uhm.”

“When you decided to attack the floor.”  You finish for him and he clears his throat.  “You’ll have to disinfect it.”

“Pfft, it’s fine.”  He shakes his head.  “It’s just a scratch.”

But you are already grabbing your bag by the swing and you return with a small kit.

“I forgot to bring wipes.”  You mumble before crouching down in front of him.  He swallows at your close proximity.  “Come on, JJ.  It’s just antibacterial cream.”

He hesitantly shows you his face and you gently apply the cream, tutting when he dramatically pulls away.

You grab his face and tilt it slightly and JJ squeezes his eyes.

“It fucking stings.”  He nearly whines, making you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be a baby!”  You huff and he stays still for a second, allowing you to smear the cream evenly and he rolls away from you as soon as you’re done.

JJ was muttering about God knows what while you’re busy putting your stuff away.  When you sit next to him again, he’s much calmer, a lazy smile back on his face again.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You throw him a playful glare.  “You’re welcome.”

He touches the scratch and you almost tell him off but he quickly pulls his hand away. 

“Why didn’t Cameron make you his girl?”

You blow out a big sigh.  “He doesn’t like me.”

“Bullshit.”  He laughs but he clears his throat when you look at him unamused.  “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”  You smile at him genuinely before averting your eyes.  “I wouldn’t blame him.  I mean, you saw how I can be.”  You chuckle this time but there’s no humor on JJ’s face, he’s looking at you rather sadly.  “I care too much and everybody suffocates around me.”

“I don’t.”  He says quickly.  “I was just being dramatic earlier.”  He rubs his nape.  “I’m not used to having people tend to me, I mostly just do it myself.”  He seeks your eyes and you finally look at him. 

You hear a creak behind you but before you can look, JJ cups your face to keep you from breaking your eye contact, making your breath hitch.

“I liked being taken care of like that.”  He whispers and your lips part slightly.

“JJ.”  You say breathlessly and he grins, his face leaning dangerously close to you.  “You’re drunk.”

He gently bites his bottom lip and you have to look away from his blatant flirting.  “I’m sober enough to kiss, I promise.”

This…this isn’t right.  

You gently push him away and his lips immediately form a pout.  “You’re such a kid, JJ.”

He clicks his tongue and angrily stoops as he glares at the ocean.  “You had no idea how long it took me to build the courage to do that.”

“Five minutes?”  You jokingly bump his shoulders, making his act break at the edges, a smile threatening to crack on his lips.  “Seriously, J, I can’t kiss drunk guys.  It’s unethical.”

He mimics you in a childish voice and buries his face on his palms harshly.  He turns to you again, with his hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead and red blotches appearing on some areas of his face.  “I’m not as drunk as you think I am.”  The way he glances at your lips had your throat drying up.  “I really wanted to kiss you.”  Aside from Rafe, you have little to no experience with the male attention and frankly, you don’t know what to do.

You place a hand on his shoulder and stiffly pat it twice.  “You’ll get over it.”

JJ looks at you exasperatedly.  “You’re taking this too lightly, this is my feelings we are talking about.”

You stifle a laughter.  “Oh, so you have feelings for me.”  You raise a brow at him and he nods his head enthusiastically.

“Every guy on this island has a thing for you.”  He says animatedly.  “If it wasn’t for your bodyguard, we would have made our move long ago.”

You are deeply flattered, you can’t resist the girlish smile from tugging on your lips, your cheeks slowly heating up.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

He looks deeply offended and places a hand on his chest.

“You’re the ultimate dream girl, stupid!”  He dodges a punch from you.  “You’re like the total package.  You’re sweet, and smart, you’re also very pretty, you can be funny too when you let loose.”  He wiggles his eyebrows at you and this pulls a laughter from you, a real, genuine laughter that had your shoulders shaking.

“When are you gonna get serious, J?”  Wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, you get up.  “Wait here, I’ll get us a drink.”

He gives you a two finger salute before lying smack down on the floor, with his arms spread out.  You shake your head, chuckling when you open the door.

And your hair stands on end.

There stood the very person you have been avoiding the entire night.

But for once, he isn’t wearing a scowl or a condescending cocky smile.

He was looking at you like a man defeated and broken.

“Rafe.”  You whisper as you reach for him but you stop yourself before your skin can touch.  He looks at your hand and then your eyes.  You don’t know if it’s the trick of light but you could have sworn his eyes are glassy.

“Hey, Y/N, everything alright?”  JJ calls.

Rafe glances at JJ and then back at you, he nods slowly as he takes a step back.  Your heart aches as you watch him take another step away from you but you will yourself not to follow.  He runs a hand on his mouth and he turns away from you.

You stare at his back as he leaves, torn between choosing your own pride or running after him.  For what seemed like hours, you stood there, frozen.  Still lost in the onslaught of emotions that surged through you.

Not Your Girl • His Girl

[ticifics]

Wasn't it obvious?

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: For a moment, Dave stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on you. The expression on his face wasn’t judgmental or angry but simply confused. “Wait...” he began, hesitantly. “You’re telling me you thought we weren’t dating?” You stayed silent, the weight in your chest tightening at his question. “I... I didn’t know.” “But...” He ran a hand through his messy curls, looking lost. “I thought it was kind of obvious."

Warnings: mention of sex (not explicit), insecurity, est. relationship, hurt comfort, a little angst

A/N: anon, I hope you can like it <333!!

The room was still bathed in the dim light of morning, with the curtains barely drawn, letting streaks of sunlight spill across the space. You woke up slowly, feeling the warmth of his body still so close. Dave’s breathing was soft and steady, the rhythm of someone deeply asleep. A heavy arm lay draped over your waist, a silent reminder that he had no intention of letting you slip away anytime soon.

Your eyes wandered around the messy room, clothes scattered on the floor—your shirt precariously hanging off the edge of a chair, his pants on the rug, half-hidden under the bed. You knew you needed to leave. There were commitments, schedules, things waiting for you out there. But the weight of that moment, of his warmth, seemed to beg you to stay.

“You awake?” Dave’s husky voice broke through your thoughts. He didn’t open his eyes right away, but the grip around your waist tightened slightly. When he finally looked at you, his blue eyes were clouded with sleep, dark curls falling a little over his forehead. “Stay a little longer. It’s still early…”

“I have to go,” you murmured, even as his fingers lazily traced the curve of your arm. His touch was so light, as if he wanted to draw out every second.

“No, you don’t.” He smiled in that way that always made your resolve waver—that small, crooked smile, almost boyish, but filled with something he probably didn’t even realize he carried. Propping himself up on his elbow, he looked straight at you, his eyes shining even in the faint light. “Who’s gonna care if you skip, huh?”

You laughed softly, knowing he was teasing, though there was a hint of truth in his words. Dave had this way of making you feel like the rest of the world didn’t matter, like that moment—just the two of you, tangled in messy sheets—was the only thing that did.

“You’re not going to make me stay,” you warned, but your voice didn’t sound as convincing as you’d intended. He seemed to catch on, because his smile grew wider.

“What if I hold you down right here?” He stretched his arms dramatically, trying to pull you closer, but you slipped out, laughing again.

“Stop it, Dave,” you said, trying to get up, though you could feel the weight of his gaze following you. You grabbed your shirt first, pulling it off the chair, and started putting it on with your back to him, all too aware of his eyes on you. When you turned around, he was still there, propped up on his hand, his hair messy, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made warmth creep up your face.

“You’re really gonna leave me here all alone?” His tone was playful, almost pouty, but there was something else beneath it—something that was always there in the spaces between words, something you never quite dared to name.

“I am,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, though something inside you tightened. You knew he wasn’t holding you there, that you were free to leave. But you also knew there were unspoken things between you, things that made moments like this harder than they should be.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, flopping back onto the pillow, though his eyes never left you. “Fine. But only because I know you’ll come back.”

You paused for a second, still holding onto the waistband of the pants you’d just pulled on. His gaze seemed to carry more weight than his words. But, as always, you let it pass.

“Maybe,” you said, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. And before he could respond, you grabbed your things and started moving toward the door, feeling his eyes on you until the very last second.

“Hey,” he called out, just as your hand touched the doorknob. You turned to look at him one last time. He looked so at ease there, so comfortable, with his messy curls and that smile that always made your heart race. “You look amazing in the morning, you know that?”

“See you later, Dave,” you said, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat, and left before he could trap you with another comment.

The café was just busy enough that the hum of conversations and the clinking of cups against saucers created a constant noise, but not so much that it stopped you from relaxing for a few minutes. You sat near the window, the warm coffee cup in your hands, trying to organize your thoughts. There was so much to do, so many things you were trying to ignore—and one of them seemed to have a face framed by dark curls and blue eyes that took up far more space in your mind than you cared to admit.

"Hey, is that really you?"

The familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and when you looked up, it took a second to recognize the person standing in front of you.

"Katie?" The surprise was clear in your voice, but a smile quickly appeared on your lips. It was her, without a doubt—the same Katie Deauxma from high school, though now her features seemed more mature. Her hair was a bit shorter, but the easy smile she always had was exactly the same.

"Yeah!" Katie laughed, looking just as surprised to see you there. "Wow, it's been ages! How are you?"

"I'm good. Wow, it really has been a long time," you said, standing for a quick, slightly awkward hug. She seemed as comfortable as ever, and the conversation flowed naturally as the two of you sat down together.

Katie asked about college, what you were studying, and shared a bit about her own courses and what she'd been up to since high school. It was pleasant, even nostalgic, talking to someone who knew you from before.

Until she asked, casually, "So, are you dating anyone? Or just enjoying the single life?"

You hesitated for a second that felt like an eternity. The words formed in your mind before you could fully think through their weight, slipping out before you could stop them.

"Actually… I am dating someone."

It was a lie. Or wasn't it? You didn’t know anymore. But the sound of the word in your mouth brought an instant pang of guilt, something that tightened in your chest as Katie’s smile widened.

“Oh, really? That’s great! Who’s the lucky one?”

“Dave Lizewski,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. Katie blinked, surprised, before letting out a short laugh.

“Dave? Wow! I haven’t talked to him in ages. We dated, remember? Back in high school.”

You nodded, feeling your stomach sink. Of course you remembered. Everyone remembered. Dave and Katie had been the cute couple in school, the kind everyone thought was improbable, even cliché—the nerd with the popular girl.

“He was so sweet. A little awkward, but always so thoughtful,” Katie continued, oblivious to the storm of emotions building inside you. “You two must make a great couple, I’m sure.”

You smiled, or tried to, and murmured something vague in response. But all you could think was that she was right. Dave was sweet. He was thoughtful, even with his goofy comments and the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. He held your hand in public. He made a point to walk you home when he could.

But he had never called you his girlfriend.

And now you were sitting here, listening to Katie talk about what he was like when they dated, and something inside you was breaking into pieces you didn’t even know existed. You remembered them together—how she’d hold onto his arm in the school hallways, how happy he looked next to her. And suddenly, you couldn’t help but wonder if he looked at you the same way he looked at her.

You finished your coffee as quickly as you could, saying goodbye to Katie with a smile that felt increasingly forced. She hugged you again before leaving, promising that you should meet up again sometime.

When you were alone again, the noise of the café felt louder, like it was echoing inside you. The empty cup in front of you felt like a weight holding you there, while your thoughts spiraled endlessly.

Girlfriend.

You’d said it. And now the word felt like it was haunting you, something far too big to carry. You never wanted to be this person, the one who lied or twisted things to fit into something that might not even be real.

But you couldn’t help it.

Because deep down, you wanted it to be true.

Thursday nights always held a special weight. It was an unspoken tradition between the two of you. No matter what happened during the week—piles of work, tough exams, or tight deadlines—Thursdays were reserved for you two. And no matter how hard you tried to focus on something else, the memory of your encounter with Katie had been pounding in your head ever since you left the café.

You had tried to shake it off with a stack of required reading, loud music through your headphones, and even a spontaneous apartment cleaning spree, but nothing worked. Katie's voice kept echoing, her smile, the way she talked about Dave. The way she referred to him as someone who used to be hers, as if there was still a part of him trapped in the past that might never belong to you.

And then there was you. And the lie. Or was it the truth? You didn’t even know anymore. The weight of the words that had slipped out before you could stop them—they felt heavier now, like stones sinking in your stomach. You said it because you wanted to believe it was real. But what about him? What would he think if he knew?

The sound of the doorbell yanked you from your thoughts. It was him.

You took a deep breath, trying to quiet the chaos inside, and opened the door. Dave stood there, as he always did, with his messy curls and a small smile that grew wider just for you. He held a plastic bag with a pack of fries and two sodas—the kind of thing he always brought because he knew you loved it.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping inside. His touch was warm, familiar. But tonight, it felt harder to relax around him, like the storm in your head was keeping you from grounding yourself in the moment.

“Hey,” you replied, closing the door as he made his way to the kitchen, putting the sodas in the fridge without even asking. He’d been doing this for so long that it was second nature.

“You okay?” Dave asked, opening the bag of fries and tossing one into his mouth. He looked at you with those blue eyes, his forehead creasing slightly with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered quickly—maybe too quickly. He noticed. Of course, he did. Dave had always had this uncanny ability to sense when something was off, even when you tried to hide it.

“Are you sure? You seem kind of...” He gestured vaguely with his hand.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, a bit more firmly. “Just tired, that’s all.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, but the way he kept watching you while munching on a fry made it clear he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Wanna watch a movie or something? I brought that one you said you wanted to see...”

“I’m not sure I feel like watching a movie tonight,” you replied, trying to keep your voice neutral as you grabbed a glass of water for yourself. It was a small response, almost insignificant, but the tension was already starting to build.

“Alright, so what do you want to do?” He leaned against the kitchen counter, his gaze calm and his relaxed posture a stark contrast to the knot tightening inside you.

“I don’t know, Dave!” The words came out sharper than you intended, and the tone in your voice made his eyebrows lift.

“Okay, easy,” he said slowly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I was just asking. No need to bite my head off.”

You sighed, guilt starting to creep in. But instead of stopping, the words began spilling out before you could catch them. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just... I don’t know. I’m tired. I had a rough day, and then you show up with your fries like everything is so simple, like... like I just need a movie, and everything will be fine.”

He blinked, visibly confused, but his tone remained calm. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t know you were feeling so... like this.”

“Like this?” You crossed your arms, the tension in your stance growing. “What’s that supposed to mean, Dave?”

“You know what I mean,” he said, but now there was something in his tone that suggested he was trying to keep his patience in check.

“Actually, I don’t,” you shot back, your voice rising. But as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt the sting of tears welling in your eyes, and the lump in your throat that had been forming all day was now nearly unbearable.

Dave noticed immediately. Of course, he did. He might not have been great with words, but he never failed to pick up on when something was wrong with you. His expression shifted in an instant, confusion giving way to a concern so genuine it made you feel even more vulnerable.

“Hey, hey,” he said, stepping closer, his voice softer now. “What’s going on? Are you crying?”

“I’m not,” you lied, turning your face away, but he didn’t buy it.

“Yes, you are,” he insisted, and before you could step back, Dave was already close enough to gently take your hands in his. “Look at me.”

You hesitated but finally lifted your gaze. His blue eyes met yours, filled with so much concern it was almost impossible to hold the contact.

“Talk to me,” he said. It wasn’t a command; it was an invitation. “Please.”

The weight in your chest felt like it was about to explode, and the words came out before you could stop them.

“I ran into Katie.”

Dave blinked, visibly surprised. “Katie?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, trying to look away, but he stayed close, holding your hands with almost unbearable tenderness. “We bumped into each other by chance. Talked for a few minutes.”

He tilted his head, his blue eyes narrowing slightly, now a mix of curiosity and concern. “And?”

“She asked about you,” you said, your voice almost a whisper. “And I... I told her I was your girlfriend.”

Dave went quiet for a moment. Not the heavy silence of judgment, but the kind of pause he always took when he was trying to fully understand something.

“Okay,” he began cautiously. “And... why does that seem to be hurting you?”

“Because I don’t know if it’s true!” you burst out, the confession hitting with a force that made you flinch. “I said I was your girlfriend, but I didn’t know if I was lying. We’ve never talked about this, never put a name on what we have. And now all I can think about is whether I said something that wasn’t real.”

For a moment, he stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on you. The expression on his face wasn’t judgmental or angry but simply confused.

“Wait...” he began, hesitantly. “You’re telling me you thought we weren’t dating?”

You stayed silent, the weight in your chest tightening at his question.

“I... I didn’t know,” you admitted, your voice weak, barely a whisper.

“But...” He ran a hand through his messy curls, looking lost. “I thought it was kind of obvious. I mean, we see each other all the time, spend nights together, you steal my shirts...”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you cut him off, frustration mixed with nervousness. “People do that all the time without dating, Dave.”

“But I don’t do that with just anyone,” he countered, his blue eyes locking onto yours, as if he wanted to make this point crystal clear. “I do that with you because I want to be with you. Because I thought... well, I thought it was obvious.”

“But you never said it,” you argued, feeling the tears starting to return. “And I never said it either. And that’s what’s been driving me crazy. I didn’t know what we were.”

Dave sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He looked like he was processing everything all at once, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But instead, he stepped closer until he was near enough to hold your hands again.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Then let’s make it clear now.”

His tone was calm but firm, and when he spoke again, it felt like every word had been carefully chosen.

“I’m with you,” he said. “And I thought that was obvious, but if it wasn’t, I’m saying it now: I want to be with you. Just you. And if that means we’re dating, then yeah, I guess we’re dating.”

Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it.

“But...” you began, the word almost lost in the lump in your throat. “What about Katie?”

He frowned, clearly caught off guard by the change in topic.

“What about Katie?”

“She was your first girlfriend,” you continued, your voice cracking slightly. “And I remember how you two were. Everyone thought you were perfect together. And now, seeing her again, I can’t stop thinking that...”

“That what?” He tilted his head, his eyes filled with concern.

“That I’ll never be good enough,” you confessed, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Dave was silent for a moment, but before you could say more, he shook his head with a soft, incredulous laugh.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice full of almost overwhelming tenderness.

You looked at him, confused.

“I broke up with Katie years ago,” he said, as though reminding you of something obvious. “And yeah, it was important to me. She was my first girlfriend. But that doesn’t mean anything now. She’s part of my past, that’s all. You’re my present. And my future, if I’m lucky.”

You tried to process his words, but the lump in your throat only seemed to grow.

“But what if I’m not enough?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“You already are enough,” he answered immediately, without hesitation. He stepped closer, so close that you were almost nose to nose. “More than enough. And you don’t need to compare yourself to Katie or anyone else. Because no one comes close to you, got it? No one.”

His eyes were so intense, so full of emotion, that you felt tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’m here because I want to be here,” he continued, his voice now softer. “Because you’re who I want. And nothing—absolutely nothing—is going to change that.”

You closed your eyes, trying to hold back the tears, but it was impossible. When you opened them again, Dave was already pulling you into a tight embrace, wrapping you in a tenderness that felt both overwhelming and comforting all at once.

Dave’s arms tightened around you as if he were trying to shield you from the outside world—or maybe from yourself. The warmth of his body surrounded you, and for a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady beat of his heart, like a reassuring rhythm that seemed to absorb all the anxiety that had consumed you until then.

“You’re more than enough,” he repeated, his voice low and steady, as if it were something he needed you to believe more than anything else. And you wanted to believe it.

Minutes passed like that, in a cocoon of quiet comfort, with him holding you as if the whole world had disappeared. And you stayed there, letting yourself surrender to that sense of relief, of not needing to worry about anything else. Just the present. Just him.

Finally, you lifted your head, your face warm and your eyes still a little teary but calmer. You looked at him, and he looked back at you with an intensity that made you feel as if you were being seen in a way no one else ever could.

“Do you really think I’m enough for you?” you asked, your voice softer now but still tinged with uncertainty. You knew he’d answered, but you needed to hear it again, to be sure.

Dave smiled, a smile that made his eyes shine with a mix of affection and certainty. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lightly grazing your skin, and answered with a tenderness that warmed your chest.

“I don’t just think,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “I know. And if you let me, I’ll show you that every single day. Because to me, you’re everything. And nothing, no one, can change that.”

His words echoed softly but with a force that was impossible to ignore. And in that moment, with your heart racing and your breath unsteady, you finally understood what he was trying to tell you. It didn’t matter what had happened in the past or the insecurities you carried. What mattered was what he was offering you now. It was real. And you wanted to believe it. Wanted to allow yourself.

You gave a small smile, the tears still falling but now accompanied by a growing sense of peace that began to fill the spaces left by doubt. “I don’t want to compare myself to anyone,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “But sometimes it’s hard.”

Dave gave a small laugh, gently cupping your cheeks. “I get it,” he said. “But never forget: you’re who I chose. And you don’t need to be like anyone else. You’re unique to me, and that’s all I need.”

He pulled you closer again, and this time, instead of insecurity, the embrace was filled with something softer yet stronger—a sense that you’d found your place, a safe place full of care.

Time passed slowly, and you felt calmer, as if his words had cleared the chaos in your mind. When you looked into his eyes, you no longer saw doubt or fear—just certainty. And you felt it too. The certainty that, with him by your side, everything would be okay.

“I love you,” you whispered, not thinking too much, but with a truth that burned through your skin and filled your chest with something so profound that words couldn’t fully translate it.

Dave smiled, that genuine, happy smile of his. “I love you too,” he replied, before leaning in for a gentle kiss that made the world seem to pause for a moment. A kiss that needed no explanations. A kiss that said everything about who you were—and everything you were still about to become.

[takes1]

THANK YOU FOR WRITING MY KUROKEN REQUEST OMHFGSGHFGRS. IM SO SO HAPPY THANK YOU AJJWKAJDHFBTNFJEJ!!!!!CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT! :D

[p.2] kenma sharing you with kuroo

im so glad youre into it!!!! i love hearing from you! this was getting too long again, had to break it up AAAAAAAAA so there will be another part idk why i cant be concise theres just a lot of juicy stuff here

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / threesome / angsty smut / jealous!kuroo / secure!kenma /petnames / submissive(with conditions)!reader / praisewhore!reader / kenma being rough on purpose / f!rec oral / backshots / riding / kuroo being rough on accident / very mastermind!kenma / poly!kuroo, poly!kenma, poly?reader / crushing on kuroo / fluid pecking order / 3k words / somehow more to follow, pls reply to be added to taglist for HOPEFULLY FINAL PART

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. part one here. final part.

The sheer size of his physique always made you and Kenma both feel smaller, and fragile at times. Like a couple of toys to him.

Now that you could see what he had been hiding underneath his shirt; a full, wide chest that stretched, taut, across two robust shoulders. Lines worked under his skin, cropping up like guitar strings as he tossed his shirt to the side.

Comparing him to Kenma was useless. They weren't just in different weight classes; it was simply unfair to draw the full list of their differences out.

The worst part was that he knew how hot he was. He acted like he was the best thing since sliced bread. Always flexing in every mirror, offering a bulky bicep for you to squeeze just to watch you squirm on more than one occasion, leaning over both you and your boyfriend, crushing you in unnecessary group hugs.

"How's that sound, baby?" Kenma muttered against your ear, speaking in that low tone he knew you liked.

Face burning hot, you stared at the floor until Kuroo filled your vision. His chest was blocking your ability to ignore him, to try thinking clearly enough to maybe say something back.

Kenma was keeping you still, one arm around your middle, the other hand rested under one of your breasts, "You can touch him. It's okay."

They shared a look you couldn't see.

"I won't bite anymore," Kuroo whispered. He kissed the top of your head as an apology, of sorts.

He lifted your wrist and placed it onto his sculpted stomach. It was a safe move, because it did help you calm down and give you something to look at. You weren't sure if you'd be able to look him in the eye ever again.

Your heart was still racing, but you did want to touch him. Both of your hands slid over his impressive body, thumbs prodding harder into the bulky muscle you weren't so used to- the type of grabbing and groping you had always been curious about. The back of your hand brushed his dark happy trail, your breath clipped at how his v-line dove deep into his sweats.

"Kemma," He muttered, breathy, over your head, keeping your hand right there, at his waistband.

You missed whatever exchange they must've had outside of your focus, but you were right on time to turn and watch them kiss.

Mouth open, you watched, shamelessly turned on, at the steamy exchange of tongue and spit, past and power between them right next to your head.

Nothing about that was unsure in nature. You could have been convinced that they kissed frequently.

Kuroo's hand kept yours barred on his tummy so you couldn't let him go- his other hand slipped between you and Kenma, pulling possessively at the small of your back. Kenma was also pulling you harder, closer, and you felt his hand slide onto your neck.

He usually did that when he wanted comfort- but it felt different for blur of reasons here.

They were both holding tightly onto you, but kissing each other. It nearly gave you whiplash, how fast it simplified things.

The way Kuroo parted, jaw flexed, a little flare on his nostrils in restraint was outrageously sexy. His narrowed, drunken eyes looked to you.

Your wall was back up, immediately- but you couldn't move, so you took his kiss, anyway.

His lips were wet and warm with the faint taste of Kenma. And he was making himself busy at he curve of your neck, noisily sucking and biting that little sensitive spot where it dipped into your shoulder, where he knew you held all of your stress.

"Mmnh-!"

Your uncontrollable sound was eaten right up, and Kuroo was able to get his tongue in your mouth, all clumsy, needy, like he just wanted to be inside of you no matter the method. He pushed your hand further into his pants and -of course- he wasn't wearing any underwear.

Did they kiss just to get you to this spot? The thought was concerning, but fleeting.

You gasped when he finally parted- for air, at Kenma's mouth, and the brief, unintentional brush against his cock.

Your hand shot back out of his pants, and though it looked like a struggle for him, he didn't continue trying to keep your wrist hostage. Kuroo didn't have much patience. The way he showed his passion sided closer to some kind of underlying bitterness, if anything.

A big, loud, tingly kiss to your neck, "He's good, huh?"

You glanced at Kuroo- he watched Kenma, a toothy smirk on his handsome face, like that compliment truly resonated somewhere.

"Yeah," You sighed, still scratchy. You hadn't used your voice in a while.

His arms slipped from you, a small lull in all the intensity for a position shift. You went maybe half a second with neither of them touching you- Kuroo scooped you up just as you were moving to take your seat on your boyfriend's lap.

"What're you thinkin', buddy?"

He held you like a display for him, both hands cupping your tits, a few giggly pecks to the top of your head.

"Wanna know what's goin' on in that brain of yours," His mutter felt aggressive against your scalp, making you feel a bit meek, yielding to his greedy touch.

Kenma scanned your intertwined bodies with a calculated, muted (as most of his emotions read), excitement you had rarely ever seen before.

What he had in mind was inventive, certainly not your first thought, but it was in your favor.

Your concern was quelled as you saw his little idea into action- he could handle more weight than you thought, as Kuroo straddled him, a little amused smile on his face. He took in the view of you perched atop Kenma's face, your hands crossed delicately on his chest.

The idea was so you would have to look at Kuroo.

He caught the hickeys scattered along your shoulder and neck.

"Damn Kemma, that's pretty gnarly," Kuroo's finger slipped over your skin and you flinched, "You sure that's gonna heal before class?"

Kenma shrugged underneath you, another kiss over that already tingly, sensitive bud. You tried to shift away, but he barred his arms over your hips to kept you in place. You had to brave the sensation, this position, longer.

"That's the point," Mumbled against you. Kuroo smirked at how your form broke, a curve to your spine already.

A big, slow lap at your pussy was just what you needed- all this grabbing and pinching and bruising, you just needed some head at this point.

Your moan, light, fluttery, and soft, had his attention locked.

Kuroo's thumb was gentle -not quite as gentle as Kenma- brushing your cheek, the rest of his fingers curled lightly under your jaw. You could look at those shoulders, that thick neck, his veiny forearms all day, but it was just different, difficult, having to meet his face.

"Ohh, you gotta learn to look at me, babydoll," His thumb was lowered, swiped across your glossy lip, his voice bittersweet, "Or we're gonna have a tough time."

It was like looking at him would make it more real. To your defense, it did- every time. You hated that he was using it as a way to get at you, because now he wouldn't give it up.

Finally, a kiss you didn't move away from.

His height gave him the advantage of being able to lean across the distance comfortably. You got to sit 'still' on Kenma's skilled tongue.

Since you weren't making it an unnecessary struggle this time, he was softer. Or, he was just trying to prove he could play the 'good guy,' too. He stroked himself over his sweats to the sounds you spilled across his mouth.

It only took a minute for him to move away from you, clambering off of the mattress, temporarily--

"'Ey bud- I'm takin' my pants off- I can't stand this shit."

You looked away as he stripped, so quick, so eager to get back to his kisses.

There was a clouded, dreamy haze in your vision at his slow, methodical circles. It was impossible to sit straight, but you knew Kenma could take a bit of weight on his chest.

"M-mmnh-ah,"

It took a second for your brain to catch up to everything, but when you replayed how he announced his actions, you really liked that he was, in a way, deferring to Kenma.

"Thaat's better," He groaned, lowering in a silly way to look at your pleasure-drunk expression, "Hm."

He looked down at Kenma, a palm gliding over the lines in his stomach. The muscle underneath danced, twitchy, and sensitive.

"Does he feel good, babygirl?"

You nodded, a weak, "Mh-mm, ah-!"

Kuroo seethed at the sound and quickened his pumping hand, "Ohh- you wanna tell him how good he feels?"

As his eyes trailed down your pretty, weakening form, he barely stopped himself from touching the tent in Kenma's pants. Instead, he kept his second hand gripping his hip bone, probing the skin there.

"Mmh-!" You cried, stooping forward with a tremble.

The little pitiful, embarrassed expression on your face was deserving of another kiss, however fleeting.

"Go 'head. Tell'm, baby."

Kenma must've loved the idea, because he made it intentionally difficult for you to get your words out. It was huffy, and broken, and interrupted by a quick, higher whine or two- but you did manage to tell him how perfect he felt, just like Kuroo wanted.

He didn't notice your reaction to his quiet, natural, "Good girl."

A couple of taps let you know to take your weight off of him. You were shaky, close, and already embarrassed, by that time, though.

Kuroo helped by keeping you upright and supported as Kenma slid out from his position.

"You are sooo cute," He cooed, a big hand squishing your face up so you couldn't avoid another kiss.

He liked smothering you with attention, in the absence of his more intense habits. It felt like you were dealing with cuteness-aggression, unable to wriggle out of his hold.

Your attempts were always half-assed, since it was everything you wanted. The subtle pushing, evading his kisses, little dissatisfied huffs, were more about the principle of not letting him treat you however he wanted. Kenma always put you first. You didn't want Kuroo's sudden presence to change that.

Since he knew you wouldn't touch him, he just stroked himself, between your bodies. It only worked to get him more frustrated at how difficult you were.

"Could you-- damn," Kenma did a double-take at his friend's dick, and left it at that, "Could you lay down?"

Kuroo liked his role. He liked his dick getting praised, too. His smile was unshakable, as he followed along and adjusted per Kenma's nudging. He looked up at him once more when you were prompted to sit on his lap.

Though your pussy was aching for something more, after an hour of essentially just on-and-off foreplay -especially a fan of the big, hunky addition to the bedroom beneath you-, you only hovered until Kenma weighed your hips the rest of the way down.

Kuroo was whiny, speaking only to his friend, "Why won't she look at me?"

He looked at you, "Aren't we friends?"

You grew warm, shuddery at that call-out and the fact that he caught you staring at his abs again.

A good distraction was Kenma, finally taking those stupid sweatpants off; you leaned towards him, quick to pump his cock and treat him well to a flurry of kisses.

He looked sleepy, satisfied with how easily you paid him attention.

His question was mumbled against your lips, a way od depriving you of your last kiss, "Why won't you look at Kuroo, hm?"

You squinted and sighed, a thoughtful effort on your brow until you felt the addictive, slick sensation of Kuroo's cock sliding against your folds, bumping your clit just right.

He was such a tease- he knew what he was doing, when he did it. He wanted to cut you off and smirked at his success.

An uneven whine- your hands landed on top of Kuroo's, swallowing up the crease of your thighs, hips, and ass with his outrageously big fingers.

"You should be nicer to him," He placed a gentle kiss to your cheek and left your side, opting to get behind you.

Kenma guided you by the shoulder to lean forward, face-to-face with Kuroo, knocked to your elbows. He pressed himself against your entrance.

"Oooh, what'd I tell ya?" He spoke right through Kenma sinking deeper into your pussy, finally filling you up, and still rocked his own cock against your clit, "You gonna- ah, look at me now? Or are you about to make this hard?"

You and Kuroo were in similar roles, in the way that you had no idea what Kenma was thinking, or why he did it, aside from speculation.

"A-ahh-!" You gasped, brow furrowed at how much you needed him, how much better this felt with Kuroo here, really here, instead of just in your fantasies.

The stretch, the delayed gratification of finally taking him, loosened your personal reigns a little. You wanted to see how his friend liked it.

It was difficult, but you managed to take in his handsome, dark features while Kenma filled you over and over again. His jaw was tight, flexed, as he bit the inside of his cheek. His eyes never looked endearing but they were clearly narrowed on purpose, focused and tense at your decision to keep your attention on him only now.

He was so jealous that it looked like he was struggling more than you. You loved watching it play out in his eyes, having to sit there and listen to you get railed right in front of him.

"You've got such a pretty little slut for a girlfriend-," He quelled his hunger for you with a quick, harsh kiss, muttering just between you, "Lucky bastard."

Kenma stayed deep, just barely rolling his hips with a sigh. You choked out a moan against Kuroo's frown.

There was an enviable ease to his words.

"I know."

This whole mess of a dynamic was unfolding and taking different shapes the more you all switched, resisted, or accepted your roles.

He was deep, and you were taking him so well that he wasn't as slow, or as soft as he usually opted for. The audience present gave him just a small kick of energy that he used to be a little harder with you.

"Koz-ume--!" You begged, "Mmh- slo-w-- slower..."

He didn't slow down because he knew you were only being theatrical. The intention behind his willful ignorance, still made you search for something, somebody, that would listen. It left you holding onto Kuroo for comfort instead, squeezing him closer to you, mumbling your incoherent whines past his ear.

In the process, his greedy, pinchy hands became more sympathetic, as he had to hold you still. His frown became occupied with shushes and little pecks to your shoulder, and he eventually had wrapped his arms around you, like a hug.

"You're takin' him soo well, babygirl," His low mutter did nothing to soothe you. It only made you want to cum to the sound of his voice. He rubbed over the scratches Kenma had been busy raking across your back.

"Soo fuckin' good."

Neither of you were ready to part, not yet- but Kenma pulled you out of his arms. He hugged you to his own chest, stalling deep inside of you, stuffing your poor pussy with a cruel thrust.

Again, one of those instances that wouldn't be replicated as easily with a big difference in height.

He was breathy, but he didn't stutter: "You gonna be nice to him?"

His hand squeezed your neck, his eyes steady from you, to Kuroo. Your breath was labored, your eyes narrowed, wanting, down at him.

"Hm?"

In the stillness, you could feel the extra wet running down your legs and wondered if you'd ever be so perfectly turned on again.

A managed a higher, breathier, "Yes," and he loosened his grip, letting you back onto Kuroo. Though he hadn't gotten any, he was more than satisfied with how pliable it made you.

You couldn't stop looking at him now.

He kept his grip tight on you, in case Kenma wanted to try taking you away again. His kisses had more depth, more appreciation. As hot as it was seeing Kenma so assertive, he hated being left out in the cold.

"That's too bad."

Was a phrase that both of you, even in spite of your stimulation, paused at. Your lip was hesitantly let go from its place between Kuroo's teeth. He gave him a dirty look as you burrowed your head into his giant shoulder.

Kenma was toneless, void of empathy, "You wanted to third, didn't you?"

Kuroo's expression shattered- the tension in his whole face dissipating into a thousand little pieces for about two seconds, as he tried to decipher what he meant, how he meant it, and how he should take that.

"I'm kidding-" Kenma snickered, still speaking through his fluttery, cute giggle as he addressed you, "You still wanna fuck Kuroo?"

It really hit home, for both of you, that none of this was going to work without Kenma being decidedly cool about a lot of things.

"Yes," Spilled from your lips, muffled against Kuroo's hot skin- you repeated yourself, shakily pushing yourself up for good measure, "Fuck yes."

A 'See? I told you so,' look to Kuroo. He slowly pulled out of you, leaving you to deal with an emptiness that altogether worsened your clingy exterior.

Kuroo's jealousy had softened to appreciation, and your apprehension traded spots with a need for attention. Kenma liked the control of facilitating it all.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

taglist.

^if you're new, pls reply to be added for final part!

@portrait-ninja @insertamazingname @thisiswhereishitpostalot @isayuni @ice-echo26 @ghostreader0307 @0kaymellon @peacetea-sb

my masterlist. more haikyuu.

[dedfly]

Hii! I was wondering if I could request headcanons for Shadow milk cookie x reader? Just about how he would act when he realizes he loves you and how his actions and stuff changes when he starts to have a crush on you? <3

I can't believe i writing again. Requests are still closed(only writing related ones i still prefer drawing stuff.), I just couldn't help myself with this one. New trailer made me all nostalgic

Disclaimer:

This is about Shadow Milk, if we talking real people here rember if someone loves you they would not play mind games. They are not cookies of deciet, it's not their quirky trait. Your partner or friend should be clear with you from the start

Remember there always would be people who loves you. And you always deserve better

Cw: Mentiones of gaslighting

___________________________________

Shadow Milk cookie x reader

♪ Can't say it would be long realisation. Maybe few days not the love from first sight but not the slow burn you know?

♪ But it surely would be "Oh yeah... This one" with creepy ass smile

♪ Alright, let's go and look past his thick hair right into his messed up head.

♪ We still would see the same pragmatic cookie just this time all his schemes about making...no, actually

♪ He would not try and get out of his way to make you fall in love with him.

♪ Why would he? It's inevitable.

♪ All his "little" courtship focused on one simple thing - leaving an impression

♪ You will rember him and what's is most important

♪ All your little partners didn't bring you as much effort as he did

♪ And by efforts I mean focusing all his attention on you

♪ Making you speak more than he usually let anyone

♪ Doing his sweet voice while he speaking to you

♪ Gifting you flowers some flashy gifts with ribbons, but nothing too resembling of him...yet

♪ But I don't think he would change drastically it's still him. He would be lying and deciving feeding you with half truths just like everyone

♪ It's in his nature, really

♪ His flirting is fleeting with you. Blink and you miss it

♪You can say but he's a total flirt with Wind Archer and Pure Vanilla why not me?

♪ Well it's me who writing this okay? I think he just being annoying to them on purpose. It's not actual flirt he would use in a serious courtship

♪ Just kidding, he would act differently just to look how far your boundaries stretches

♪ I mean he's also a performer which is making it way worse

♪ He so dramatic and his courtship, he's too reminiscent of a bird

♪ You will notice his act in no time. His attitude to you would be special that's for sure

♪ You might think uh aren't you just contradict yourself? No why would I? :)

♪ His actions still making you doubt his intentions

♪ WORSE of all he would not be reassuring in a traditional way so it not helping. He's still vague about his true intentions

♪ Not in a tsundere way more like a "Me? Flirting with you? Hm... How odd. You sure my gesture of gratitude isn't messing with your head?" "What? Do YOU want it to be something more?" And more of the "Are you sure? I don't recall that"

♪ Oh yeah and it's all in a lovey dovey period... Don't think he would be the one confessing first.

♪ His attitude would draw you insane that's for sure

"Ah? Asking me out on a date??? Hm... Tsk tsk tsk. Took you long enough."

♪ His mask would quickly fall off as soon as you get in a relationship tho.

♪ You will choke on his love in the best way possible

___________

Okay I'm not surprised thr only cookie who made me want to sit down and write this there Shadow Milk

[benispunk]

Ticklish

logan howlett x reader

Maybe you discovered Logan was ticklish. Maybe you used it to your advantage.

TW: it's pure fluff, it's a little bit funny and the end is a tiny bit suggestive. let's just say Christmas came early this year...this was written this morning when I woke up and it's fully inspired by my own post

Masterlist

Every morning before getting out of bed, you and Logan had a quiet ritual. These stolen moments of peace were rare in the chaos of the mansion, where every day brought new missions, training, or too many kids running around. It was the one time you could just be. No responsibilities, no noise— just the two of you.

This morning was no different. Your head rested on Logan's chest, his fingers combing gently through your hair, while your hand traced slow, lazy patterns on his chest. It was a small act of intimacy, but one you both cherished.

Lost in the rhythm, your hand absently wandered lower, brushing against his side. Suddenly, Logan jerked like he'd been electrocuted. His entire body tensed, and he shifted away so abruptly that you sat up, startled.

“Logan, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laced your voice as you reached for him.

He cleared his throat, his usual gruff tone tinged with embarrassment. “Nah, you didn’t hurt me. Just… don’t do that.”

You blinked, confusion evident on your face. “Don’t touch your sides?” You tilted your head, studying him as if trying to solve a puzzle. He refused to meet your gaze, instead settling back into bed and opening his arms to you, clearly ready to move on.

“Come here. We don’t have much time left before breakfast,” he said, his voice low and coaxing.

But you didn’t move. The way he avoided eye contact and the faint flush on his cheeks told you there was more to this. You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Logan…”

“Don’t,” he warned, catching the glint of mischief sparking in your eyes.

You smirked. “Are you… ticklish?”

The look of horror that crossed his face confirmed everything. He groaned, running a hand over his face. “Don’t you dare,” he growled, but the threatening tone only made you laugh.

“Oh my god, you are!” you exclaimed, grinning like a kid who just uncovered a juicy secret.

“I mean it, sweetheart. You’ll regret it.” His expression was deadly serious, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

Still laughing, you raised your hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Logan. I’m not going to tickle you. It was an accident— I didn’t know!”

He gave you a skeptical glance, clearly trying to decide whether you were trustworthy. After a tense moment, he let out a heavy sigh and opened his arms again. You nestled back against his chest, your fingers returning to their absent-minded pattern-drawing. His hand resumed its place in your hair, but his body remained slightly tense, like a predator waiting for an ambush.

The silence stretched comfortably for a few minutes before your curiosity got the better of you. “How did I never realize you were ticklish?”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Because it’s a secret, and I’m careful. You’re lucky you caught me off guard.”

You laughed softly, your breath warm against his chest. “You know, I can keep a secret… but I can also use it against you if I want.”

His hand froze in your hair, and you felt his heartbeat quicken just slightly beneath your ear. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” You tilted your head up, giving him your best innocent smile.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but when your hand wandered dangerously close to his side again, he didn’t notice until it was too late. Your fingers pinched his ribs lightly, and the sound that escaped his mouth—a startled yelp—was priceless.

“Y/N!” he growled, but he was already moving. In the blink of an eye, you were flat on your back, your wrists pinned above your head as he loomed over you.

“What was that little scream you just did?” you teased, bursting into laughter as he glared down at you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he rumbled, his tone low and menacing, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips told you he was more amused than angry.

“Well, in that case…” You grinned up at him, eyes gleaming with defiance. “Maybe I should do that more often.”

Logan shook his head, clearly trying to hold onto his serious facade, but it crumbled under the weight of your laughter. The corners of his mouth twitched before he finally broke, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss that left you breathless.

When he pulled back, his lips hovered over yours, his voice gravelly and teasing. “You sure you want to keep playing? Because I’ve got other ways to make you behave.”

You arched a brow, your smirk never wavering. “Oh? Like what?”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, and before you could blink, he nipped at your bottom lip, making you gasp. His hands trailed down your sides, slow and deliberate, his touch feather-light but enough to send a shiver through you.

“Keep testing me, darlin’,” he murmured, his tone dripping with suggestion. “You might not make it to breakfast at all.”

You bit your lip, trying to fight back a grin. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

His smirk widened as he leaned closer, his voice a whisper against your ear. “Good. Because breakfast can wait.”

XXX

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Minors and Blank Blogs DNI (~600 words)

cw: use of guns during sex without prior consent

Do I think Jason Todd would take out a gun during sex? No. Do I think AK!Jason Todd would? ... yes.

But I also think he'd ease you into it. I think there would be a 'reason'. I think you wouldn't even know that it's happening, that that's what it was, until the cold steel is pressed to your temple.

You could tell he had been angry today, wound tighter than usual. But he hadn't taken it out on you. (He never has. Never would dream of it) You have an idea of what he is, what he's capable of, it's just– you've never seen it for yourself.

Well, not until he had your knees over his shoulders while he rutted his cock into your twitching hole. He'd been distracting, driving you closer and closer to release with rhythmic strokes.

Your focus was entirely consumed by the necklace of bruises he seemed intent on biting across your throat and collarbones, that you'd hadn't noticed his hand pawing for the gun.

The firm pressure on your temple had nearly kept you from registering his low words in your ear, the nip to draw your attention from his slowing thrusts, "You tried to contact Barbara."

The lazy, but no less factual drawl of his voice snaps you from your blissful haze. But it's the click of the safety that makes your heart rate spike, "What?"

He tuts at you, dragging the barrel from your temple to under your jaw, "Did you really think I wouldn't notice? That I wouldn't watch what you're doing?"

You knew he was. At least a part of you did. But it felt wrong, to not try and tell her that Jason was back. That he's planning something you weren't privy to.

You open your mouth. Maybe it's to apologize. Maybe it's to beg him to put the safety on. Or maybe it's to ask him not to stop fucking you.

He shoves the gun between your lips instead, not letting whatever excuse you want to try spill from your tongue, "Don't, Doll. You do what I tell you, and you don't do anything else. Understood?"

His voice never changes from that smooth, sleepy drawl. (It almost makes you relax, almost has you feeling safe)

You nod as best as you can around the unyielding metal, hating the way you clamp down on his cock when he punctuates his words with a harsh roll of his hips.

He hums at you, seemingly satisfied by the desperation that pricks at your eyes. "Good," he croons, pulling the gun from your mouth to watch the lines of spit that stretch from your mouth to the barrel, "You're being good, sweet thing. Just like you should be."

You nearly choke out a sob of relief when the safety clicks back on, and he drops the gun by your head, still within reach, but no longer a threat.

Jason presses closer to you, almost folding you in half to grind his cock deeper against your walls. His face borders on feral, as he studies the glaze in your eyes, "You wouldn't do that again, would you?"

The rapid shake of your head has him kissing your jaw tenderly, like a twisted apology for scaring you. "Just making sure, doll," he murmurs softly, as if you can't still taste the gun power in your throat.

He fucks you like it's settled, then. Makes you cum like there isn't a gun still resting by your head. And when the stars clear from your vision and he's collecting a towel from the bathroom, you can't help but grab the gun from where it rests against the sheets.

You don't have a plan, it's just instinct, to get rid of the danger it poses.

You don't know how you feel, as you unload the gun with shaky hands, when you find there were never any bullets at all.

[shaunamilfman]

Jackie Taylor NSFW Alphabet

pairing: Jackie Taylor x f!r note: minors dni. the prettiest gf ever actually.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

clingy, clingy, clingy, and did I say clingy? there won’t be a single limb of jackie’s that’s not wrapped around you somehow. she also only has layovers in pound town on her way to yap city so be ready to settle in and listen until she gets tired enough that she starts to yawn. then she can bury her head and settle down to sleep, still attached to you. don’t even try to use the bathroom during the night, her ass will know. she’s asleep, but she knows.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jackie likes her mouth. likes the way her pouts can draw your attention, the way her smiles can light up your face just as quickly as her own, the slow slide of your lips against hers when you make out, the way your eyes widen when she whispers something dirty. she likes the way your skin feels beneath her mouth, the quiet sounds that escape when she brings her teeth into play.

Jackie has a thing for your arms. She likes to see your muscles flex as you move, no matter how mundane the action is. maybe it reminds of her of how they look beside her head when you lean over her, or maybe the way your muscles move as you fuck her. whatever the case, she's obsessed. also loves to hang off them. holds onto you all the time like she's afraid someone going to take you from her. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

loves to clean herself off your fingers. always gets a little too into it, eyes slipping closed, tiny pleased sounds muffled around your fingers, the soft wet slurps as she sucks at them. There’s a 50/50 change on whether she accidentally takes them too far and pouts at you or whether she pulls them away soaked with her spit and shoves your hand back between her legs. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Jackie loves when you make her be quiet. whether thats holding your hand over her mouth or making her suck on your fingers, or simply just stopping whenever she starts to get too loud. she’s obsessed. it makes her so whiny, which makes the whole thing worse. it turns her on so much she can hardly bear it sometimes.

she’s taken more than a few videos when she was alone, though she’s never been able to get the courage to actually send them to you. Jackie likes to know that they exist, that she could send them to you and have you coming right over.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

no experience with women beyond what she gained “practice kissing” with Shauna in middle school. she's dated Jeff for a while, but she doesn't like to count that. what she doesn't have in experience she makes up for in enthusiasm and yapping. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Jackie’s a simple girl at heart: she likes to be on her back, stretched out comfortably beneath you as she stares affectionately up at you. she needs to be taken care of the way she always takes care of everyone else around her, and it makes her feel so good not to have to think for a good long while and just feel. the weight of you on top of her as you maneuver her around, how small it makes her feel to look up at you. even the thought of it makes her squirm. pillow princess Jackie truther forever and ever.

she’s also a fan of straddling your lap. it’s almost a game to her, seeing how quickly she can distract you away from whatever you were doing before just by settling down in your lap with her arms wrapped around your shoulders. she likes the way you look up at her when she's sitting on your lap, like she’s special like the princess she is at heart. Jackie Taylor praise kink goes hard in this position. how are you not going to watch her sit on your lap and not tell her how pretty she is?? she likes how she can kiss you as much as she wants, burying her head in your shoulder when it all gets to be too much. Jackie especially likes when she starts to get close and can't focus on kissing you and riding your fingers at the same time. the way you grab her hips to guide her almost makes up for your inability to pin her hips down and make her take it in Jackie's mind. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Jackie's such a dork, and she will be bringing puns in mid-hookup. she just loves to banter and yap. it's not sex with Jackie Taylor if she doesn't end up giggling at least once. you’re slipping her skirt off and she’s poking fun at you for how into her you are. all breathless and flushed saying something like “god, you’re so into me. that’s sooooo embarrassing, huh?” and you better bet she’s endlessly pleased with herself when you just groan.

she's so ticklish it's not even always on purpose. she can't help it. she’s burst into peals of laughter as you kiss down her stomach in just the wrong place so many times that she doesn’t even try to apologize like she used to, just giggles as she squirms beneath you. Jackie used to try to bite her lip to keep them inside, but she likes the affectionate look you give her as you look up at her when she does laugh.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

grooms obsessively I fear. if she feels even a hint of stubble she’s going for her razor. she’s absolutely made you late for something a few times because she realized she had a single visible hair on her legs and thus needed to shave everything again. 

she does start to grow out of it in the later years of college when she realizes no one really cares about it as much as her mother always preached to her.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

very romantic. as much as Jackie obviously enjoys the pleasure of it, sex is a really important emotional connection for her. like she’s not Jackie Taylor, she’s just Jackie. it makes her feel safe and treasured in a lot of ways and she loves to be guaranteed your attention for long periods of time. wants the comforting weight of you against her, the warmth of your skin, the familiar brush of your lips as you trace the same old patterns. she adores you, and wants to be adored back. very much an “i love you, i love you, i love you” like a prayer kind of girl. she’s just so vocal.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jackie doesn't masturbate that often: that's what she has you for. she wasn't raised in a way that she felt that was something she could do as a woman, and struggles to get past that feeling even into college. it's not to say that she doesn't ever. you can't always be immediately available to her. if distance is the problem she will try calling you up for phone sex. she just likes to hear your voice. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

praise kink, obviously. won’t you please tell her how pretty she is? how good she’s doing? she needs validation, and more than that she wants it. degradation kink as well. she’s simple like that. “it’s a good thing she’s pretty because she can’t do anything else right”? oh, okay. tell her more. she likes to be teased like that, as long as it doesn’t get too pointed. the way her breath hitches as she starts to argue but finds herself struggling to find the words. so flustered that she just agrees.

marked and being marked, especially when you leave little marks on her thighs. hickeys hidden just beneath her clothes, hot? better yet, the little bruises from your fingers when you get over eager with her. she likes that way it makes her squirm whenever something presses against them, reminding her of how tightly you were holding her down.

honorable mentions. being bitten. not enough to bleed, but enough to sting. being pinned down by hand. it makes her feel wanted. hair pulling, giving and receiving. she’s not picky. begging. she’s just so good at it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Jackie likes your bed the most. she likes when you take your time with her, and that gives her the best place to do it. she doesn’t mind the couch as long as there’s no risk of interruption. you still eventually end up on someone's bed. she likes to cuddle, sue her. she’ll engage in the occasional car sex if she’s desperate enough but she’ll spend the rest of the night complaining about how the seat dug into her back or something like that

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

jealousy is a big one. God forbid she sees you talking to someone else. she’s so passive aggressive as she storms over, wrapping herself around you and resting her head on your shoulder as she gives a fake strained smile to whoever you’re talking to.

when you do sweet things for her just to do them. she likes to know you’ll do it if she asks, but when she doesn’t even have to?

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

if the praise starts to feel perfunctory or the degradation starts to feel too real. if she thinks you actually think she’s dumb she’s immediately shutting down and pushing you away. she gets on herself enough to have to wonder if you think that about her too.

do NOT embarrass her in public. there’s a fine line with how affectionate she feels she can be in public without embarrassing herself and she does not enjoy being humiliated. please don’t put her in a position where she could actually get caught doing it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

receiving, obviously. Jackie likes oral more than anything else. she likes how warm your mouth feels as you eat her out, how focused on her you are. and God, the way your arms feel hooking around her thighs as you hold her in place? she’s in heaven. hold her down as she whimpers and whines out complaints, futilely trying to grind up against your tongue as you set the pace because she needs more. she gets so impatient as she tugs at your hair, scratches at your back, and digs her heels into your skin.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

this is decided largely on why the two of you are having sex. if she’s got something to prove or is particularly motivated by emotion she prefers fast and rough. she prefers slow and sensual. she likes to be worked up and kissed and coddled till she can’t stand it anymore.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

only when she has to. and trust that she wants more full rounds when you get home later. still, she enjoys being pushed up against the wall when she gets a little jealous at a party or when you’re about to leave.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Jackie likes to try new things within reason. she’s curious, but she’s not always that spontaneous unless it’s already within her comfort zone. she’s not that much into taking risks. it stresses her out, and she doesn’t enjoy that. what she does like, is being gently coaxed into it. a “don’t you want to try…” or “you’d look so pretty if we…” anything that makes her feel safe and wanted.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Jackie can go 2-3 before she starts feeling too sensitive to continue, but that doesn’t mean she’s done. not by far. it just means she wants to make out for a while while your hands are in other places until the sensitivity dies down enough for you to go again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Jackie’s never owned one. she’d quickly take to a vibrator, from all hesitant to clutching at your arm and demanding more in the span of about five minutes. but anything else seems a little scary to her. 

she’s so nervous the first time you try using a strap-on that she almost calls the whole thing off. it just reminds her too much of how she used to dread the idea of sleeping with men. but you’re so patient with her that she slowly lets herself be eased into it. Jackie quickly finds out that perhaps she was being a little too hasty on that particular point. she likes it. loves it, even. she’s often the one that brings it up first. 

she’s more open to other things after that, but she still likes to pretend you’re the one who brought it up. will subtly (note, unsubtly) hint at things she wants to try until you bring it up and she can immediately agree while accusing you of being a pervert with a little twinkle in her eyes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Jackie likes to tease leading up to it on a night out, but once her back hits the mattress she’s much less inclined to tease

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

so loud if she has the option to be, and even when she doesn’t. whines, whimpers, loud moans when you touch her just right. she isn’t shy about announcing her pleasure. how else will you know to do it again? she’s such a talker.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

has tried to go on a sex strike at least once when you pissed her off but she realized it was hurting her more than you. she’s fully committed to it for all of three hours. arms crossed, pout in place, chin up. the works. but the thing is–Jackie has needs, okay? it always ends up with her shoving your hand down her pants while complaining about how mean and dumb you are.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

jackie likes to dress up in those fancy lingerie pieces that are so impractical that she has to be careful where she wears them. there’s something about feeling that silk and lace rub against her skin all night that gets her so wet by the time she lets you peel it off her at the end of the night. she loves to think about how she’s wearing it just for your enjoyment.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

high. she has needs, even if she likes to pretend that you’re the one coming on to her. she gets so touch starved so quickly.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

incredibly quickly. she’s a chronic napper, even if she pretends otherwise. yaps until she falls asleep mid-sentence, mouth pressed against your chest and dead weight

[taurasiluvr]

YOU TOLD ME YOUR NEW MAN DON'T MAKE YOU NUT, THAT'S A DAMN SHAME──BUECKERS⁵

how you can help palestine

★ been thinking about this concept for a while, idk why but i love this trope (yall we know i do...) anyway... here it is!

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. smut with plot, a lot of cheating (on r's gf), fingering, scissoring, oral (r. receiving), descriptions of not very fulfilling sex.

 ⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 2.5k

 ⠀ ── ⠀ry's notes ;; also i feel like i need to add this quick little note... I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING GUYS. THIS IS FICTIONAL LMAOO

"she just... doesn't do it, for me, you know?" you sighed as you pulled your drink closer to your chest, taking a sip of it before leaning back into the couch. "she's sweet and... funny but..."

but she can't make you orgasm. you couldn't bring yourself to say it, it was embarrassing.

paige let out a small laugh as she looked up at you from the floor. "can't make you cum?"

you cringed at her use such a vulgar word but yeah, she couldn't make you cum. you smiled down at her before nodding slowly. "yeah," you whispered back.

you and paige had a brief friends with benefits about a few months ago but called it off because you wanted a relationship and paige didn't. however, you guys both agreed to stay friends because you valued each other's company too much to let go completely.

paige smirked as she threw a fry into her mouth. "well, it's not exactly rocket science, you know. maybe she just needs some guidance."

you chuckled, shaking your head. "yeah, but it's not just that. it's like... there's no spark, no chemistry."

"you only feel that way cause she hasn't made you cum, have you told her... you know, what you like?" paige asked teasingly as she looked up at you, her lips still curved into that damned smirk.

you rolled your eyes, your face flushing slightly. the thing is, no one knew you in an intimate level like paige ─ she's the only one that's managed to give you an earth shattering, breathtaking orgasm.

you sighed, feeling the weight of the conversation. "no, i haven't told. it's just... awkward. plus, it won't make a difference."

she's too small, too delicate, too dainty for your own liking. her fingers don't stretch you out how paige's used to, they move awkwardly and she certainly has no idea what she's doing with her damn tongue.

she doesn't circle your clit, doesn't push your hips into the mattress, doesn't absolutely wreck you with her strap (that she hasn't even bought yet)...

"y/n? earth to y/n?" paige chuckled before she snapped a finger in front of your face, drawing you out of your thoughts.

you felt your soul jump out of your body as you turned to meet paige's amused gaze. she could practically read all your dirty thoughts as you squeezed your thighs together, feeling a wave of frustration and desire wash over you.

paige's knowing look only made it worse, and you couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh. "sorry, just... got lost in thought," you muttered, avoiding her gaze.

paige leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "lost in thought, huh? care to share with the class?"

you rolled your eyes, but the blush creeping up your cheeks betrayed you. "it's just... she's so different from you. in every way. and not in a good way."

paige's smirk softened into a more understanding expression. "look, it's okay to have preferences. but you owe it to yourself to be honest about what you need. if she's not doing it for you, maybe it's time to rethink things."

you sighed, knowing she was right. "i just... don't want to hurt her feelings. she's really sweet, and i don't want to come off as ungrateful or shallow."

paige shrugged, taking another fry. "it's not shallow to want a fulfilling relationship. and if she's as sweet as you say, she'll understand. maybe she'll even be willing to learn and try new things."

you nodded, appreciating her perspective but still feeling a bit unsure. "yeah, i guess so. it's just... hard."

paige gave you a reassuring smile. "hey, whatever happens, you've got me in your corner. and if you ever need a refresher course on what you like..." she trailed off, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

you laughed, the tension easing slightly. "i'll keep that in mind, paige."

──

"yeah, just like... just like that," your breathing was heavy as your girlfriend's tongue delved into you, her eyes completely focused on you. "focus on... my clit,"

she was so eager to please, it was almost endearing. key word: almost. all you could think about right now was paige, you didn't have to mutter a word and she knew exactly what to do and how to do it. plus, she was the more... dominant one.

her tentative licks and hesitant movements only amplified your frustration. you couldn't help but compare her to paige, whose confidence and skill left you breathless every time.

"yeah, that's it," you encouraged, trying to guide her as best you could. "just... a little more pressure."

she complied, but the lack of confidence was palpable. your mind wandered back to those moments with paige — the way she effortlessly took control, her assertive yet tender touch, the way she seemed to know your body better than you did, better than anyone did. it was maddening.

your girlfriend's eyes flicked up to meet yours, seeking approval. you forced a smile, trying to mask your disappointment. "doing great," you lied, hoping she couldn't sense your lack of enthusiasm. you let out a soft whimper for good measure, your girlfriend humming in approval.

as she continued, your thoughts drifted deeper into memories of paige. you remembered the way she would press your hips into the mattress, her fingers working you expertly, her lips curling into that confident smirk as she brought you to the brink again and again.

that damned smirk, god.

your breath hitched involuntarily, and your girlfriend mistook it for a sign that she was doing something right. you felt a pang of guilt but couldn't shake the fantasy that had taken hold of your mind.

"keep going," you murmured, though your thoughts were miles away. you closed your eyes and imagined paige there with you, her presence overwhelming and intoxicating.

you missed her fingers, missed her tongue but most importantly, missed her.

and suddenly, the sensations began to blur, your girlfriend's efforts merging with the vivid recollections of paige. your body responded more to the memory than the reality as your girlfriend's pace quickened, her eagerness evident. paige's voice echoed in your mind, commanding and reassuring, guiding you to that sweet release...

you finally came, letting out a soft moan. your body convulsed for a moment as your girlfriend moaned against your bundle of nerves, causing vibrations to go through your whole body.

your girlfriend's face lit up with pride, but you couldn't shake the bittersweet taste of the moment. she had tried so hard, but it wasn't enough. it wasn't paige.

when the post-nut clarity finally came, you were left only with your thoughts and the lingering guilt. it wasn't cheating... right? your girlfriend climbed on to your lap as she began kissing you, her excitement evident.

what the fuck were you gonna do now?

──

"how tall is she again?" paige whispered into your ear as her hands found their place at your hips. she was behind you, and you could practically feel her smirk.

both of your gazes were on your oblivious girlfriend, talking to one of your friends. you were at a houseparty and the tension between you and paige was palpable. you couldn't help but be drawn to her, even as your girlfriend mingled with the others, completely unaware of the charged atmosphere between you and paige.

"she's 5'3"," you whispered back, feeling a shiver run down your spine as Paige's breath tickled your ear. her hands on your hips were possessive, grounding you in a way that felt both thrilling and dangerous.

"she's cute," paige murmured, her fingers gently tracing circles on your waist. "she hasn't made you cum yet?"

you swallowed hard, her words hitting you like a ton of bricks. "it's complicated," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

paige chuckled softly, her lips brushing against your ear. "doesn't have to be. you know what you want. and i know how to give it to you."

your pulse quickened, your body responding to her proximity. paige had always had this effect on you, and being so close to her now, with your girlfriend just a few feet away, made it all the more intense.

"paige, we can't..." you started, but the words felt hollow even as you said them. you weren't sure if you were trying to convince her or yourself.

"why not?" she challenged, her hands sliding up to your waist, pulling you closer. "you deserve to be with someone who makes you feel alive, who knows how to touch you, how to please you."

you closed your eyes, struggling to ignore the fire Paige was stoking within you. "not that simple," you whispered, though deep down, you knew it was.

paige turned you slightly, forcing you to meet her gaze. her eyes were dark, filled with a mix of desire and determination. "it is that simple," she insisted. "you just have to decide what you really want."

your girlfriend's laughter floated over from where she was chatting with your friend, a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside. You glanced over at her, feeling a pang of guilt. she was sweet, caring, and had done nothing to deserve this.

but as paige's hands tightened their grip on you, you couldn't deny the magnetic pull she had on you. the history between you two, the unmatched chemistry, and the way she made you feel — like you were the only person in the world — was impossible to ignore.

and that was how you ended up in paige's dorm, her knuckles deep inside you.

your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but your body knew exactly what it wanted. paige's fingers moved with expert precision, hitting all the right spots, driving you wild with pleasure.

"fuck, paige," you gasped, your back arching as waves of ecstasy coursed through you. she smirked, her eyes locked onto yours, her dominance evident in every calculated movement.

"see?" she murmured, her voice low and filled with satisfaction. "this is what you need. someone who knows your body, who knows how to make you feel alive."

you couldn't form a coherent response, your mind too consumed by the sensations she was eliciting from you. your breath came in ragged bursts, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. paige leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear before pushing her lips into yours.

you moaned into the kiss, your hands finding the back of her head to pull her closer. "you're mine," she whispered into your lips, her words sending a shiver down your spine. "no one else can make you feel like this."

you knew she was right. the connection you shared with paige was intense, undeniable. as she brought you closer to the edge, you couldn't help but think about the decisions you needed to make.

your climax hit you hard, a tidal wave of pleasure that left you breathless and trembling as you cried out loudly, louder than you've ever been with your girlfriend (and that's by a long shot). paige held you through it, her fingers slowing their pace as she watched you with a mixture of pride and possessiveness.

paige pulled her fingers out of your pussy only to push them into your lips, earning a moan from you. you sucked them clean as she watched you, the cocky smirk still on her lips. she pushed you onto the bed, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. her body hovered over yours, her dominance clear in every movement.

"so fucking hot," paige murmured, her voice low and filled with desire. she leaned down, her lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. you could taste yourself on her lips, the taste making your head spin.

as she deepened the kiss, her hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch with a familiarity that sent shivers down your spine. her touch was both demanding and tender, a perfect balance that only paige could achieve.

breaking the kiss, paige's eyes locked onto yours, her smirk widening. "not done with you yet," she said, her voice dripping with promise. "shit, i needa cum too, right?"

she pushed your legs apart and spat into your pussy before she settled herself in between them perfectly. her fingers found your swollen clit, still sensitive from your previous orgasms. the mix of pleasure and pain made you gasp, your hips involuntarily bucking against her hand. paige's eyes gleamed with lust and satisfaction as she watched you squirm beneath her.

she finally moved her hand and began moving herself against your pussy, a loud groan leaving her lips. she pushed your legs further apart as she began bucking her hips against yours. the sensation was magical — both of you were so wet, combined with her spit — the friction was electrifying.

your moans filled the room, mingling with Paige's groans as she ground herself against you. the heat between you was intense, each movement sending waves of pleasure through your bodies.

"fuck yeah, feel so good," paige growled, her eyes locked onto yours with a fierce intensity. her movements became more urgent, her hips bucking harder against you.

the sensation of her slick folds sliding against yours was almost too much to bear, and you felt yourself edging closer to another climax. you reached up, grabbing her hips to steady yourself as you matched her rhythm. the connection between you two was palpable, an electric current that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing second. paige's breath was hot against your skin as she leaned down, her lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

your tongues tangled together as your bodies moved in perfect sync, the pleasure building to a crescendo. paige pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire. "fucking cum for me," she commanded, her voice husky and filled with need.

the intensity of her words pushed you over the edge. your body arched against hers as you climaxed, your cries of pleasure filling the room. paige wasn't far behind, her own orgasm crashing through her as she continued to ride you, her moans mingling with yours.

when the waves of pleasure finally subsided, you lay there breathless and trembling, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your release. paige collapsed beside you, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. she reached out, pulling you close and wrapping her arms around you.

for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. it was just the two of you, entwined in a blissful aftermath. paige pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering there as she whispered, "you're amazing."

you smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "so are you," you replied softly, your fingers tracing lazy circles on her back.

as you lay there together, basking in the afterglow, you couldn't help but feel a sense of rightness. despite the complications, despite the uncertainty, this felt real. it felt like where you were meant to be.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Collars Of Duty 5

MalinoisHybrid!Simon x reader Chapter 4 - (Chapter 6) Finally reunited again, Simon attacked you as soon as you met. Will this be the breaking point for you or can you work through it and help you both. ~ 8,8k words Content (might contain spoilers): biting, blood, attack, hybrid AU, mentions of torture, medical inaccuracies

A.N: I'm sorry it took so long. I'm pretty slow with updates. I hope you enjoy it. Although I am currently at the I hate it stage but I decided that I should consider it as good enough as it is. Enjoy. Also I suck at spelling so feel free to point out mistakes.

It’s absurd how the seconds stretch until they feel like minutes. The pain is excruciating but you can’t look away from Simon’s face. Your arm feels like it’s on fire, the stinging and burning sensation racing through it until you think you can’t bear it anymore and yet you have the mind to think about it. Instead of instinctively slapping at Simon or kicking him you stare. Is it normal to think this rationally in a moment like this?

It’s like your frozen in time. Neither of you moving, his vicious fangs embedded in your arm. His face is still scrunched up in a threatening display but you catch the flickering hint of fear glinting in his eyes. It makes you want to comfort him and you think you might be stupid, wanting to comfort a hybrid that’s hurting you.

Steps slowly draw closer and when you look to the side you catch sight of Nate’s lower body. He’s carefully, stealthily coming closer. In his hand that’s resting at his side he holds a syringe, thumb ready to empty the liquid into Simon.

It’s most likely filled with a sedative and instinctively you throw your free arm out and over Simon’s neck protectively. He flinches at the sudden movement , driving his teeth deeper into your arm and you wince at the way the movement rips at your flesh. A new wave of pain crashes through you and you can’t hold back a slight groan. Nate steadily creeps closer and Simon’s eyes widen with growing awareness at what’s about to happen.

“No.” You try to command Nate but it comes out like more of a pained wheeze. Still he stops sedative at the ready.

Simon’s eyebrows furrow his eyes flickering between yours, confused. He does not yield his hold on your arm and you breathe deeply through the pain. You wish it would just stop hurting.

“I need to sedate him, he’s dangerous.” Nate says resolutely.

“No!” You manage a bit louder. It might be only a feeling that makes you stop him but if Simon gets sedated right now it will only make things worse. Sure it will save you from this moment but you won’t be able to process it and work through it. It will be just like Phillip. Well maybe not exactly like it since Simon’s isn’t mauling you right now. He’s only nibbling on you. You almost make yourself crack up into hysterical giggles with that thought. His teeth hurt just as much as Phillips did. They’re just as sharp. But they’re not moving.

Forcefully removing Simon from you won’t truly help, you’re sure of it. Simon will freak when he wakes back up and you’ll be left with this memory of him. Attacking you, biting you. Even though his fangs are still sunken into your flesh the old scar in your shoulder throbs and you feel like laughing. Maybe you’re slowly going crazy from the pain. It seems to be everywhere.

Your head hurts where it cracked against the floor but you concentrate on Simon’s shallow breath. The way he holds your arm in his teeth. He’s not actively biting deeper and you consciously relax your body under him. Maybe it’s abnormal the way you assess the situation, thinking it through instead of fighting the large hybrid. But you can’t help but be thankful for it.

“It’s okay, Simon.” You say gently and watch his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. His growling stutters and maybe you imagine it but a hint of a whine builds up in his throat. He’s aware of you. You’re not sure why he hasn’t let go yet, but you’re determined to get this under control. With your current pain level you can still talk and think so maybe there’s a way for you to do this right, to do right by him.

“I know. I should have known better than to rush towards you. I don’t like that either. Forgive me for scaring you.” You continue on just following your instinct. Simon’s face betrays his surprise.

He huffs through his nose and looks at you almost pleadingly. What he’s pleading for, you don’t know. The aggression is gone but the fear in his eyes hurts almost as much as his bite.

“I know. I know. You didn’t mean it.” You’re not even sure what you’re saying but you don’t stop talking to him. His saliva pools on your skin, hot and sticky, or maybe it’s just your blood.

When his breaths get quicker and you decide to be more daring. Speaking helps but it’s not enough. The sight of the large hybrid evidently distressed breaks your heart. He’s growing more distressed by the second.

You need to try something. Anything. Slowly you move the arm that you protectively threw around his neck until you can lower your hand onto the back of his head. Burying your fingers in his hair carefully. It’s just a gentle brush of your fingers through his hair but a sudden wail tears from his chest like you hit him.

Once again it sinks his teeth deeper into your arm and you grit your own teeth against the pain. This has to work. You don’t know what to do if it doesn’t work and the pain is slowly fraying your nerves.

“I know. Shhh. It’s okay. You didn’t mean to, did you? I just spooked you. Nothing bad is going to happen. I won’t let them sedate you. I’m here now, Simon. Like you asked. Like you wanted.”

Once again you card your fingers through his hair, only a whisper of a touch until you reach the base of his left ear. He howls like he’s being ripped apart. Your eyes fill with tears. Maybe you should stop. Are you actually hurting him? But he shouldn’t have a wound on the back of his head. Your touch shouldn’t hurt him.

His eyes are wide and frightful but his jaw slackened lightly. Not hurting him then. Good, you have to continue.

“You can let go, Simon. You’re safe. I’ll keep you safe. You’re okay. I won’t even look if you don’t want me to.” The things you say barely make sense but you can’t stop, not when the hold he has on your arm loosens some more until his teeth are merely resting against your bloody skin. You’re not delusional enough to think he won’t bite down again at the sign of any threat so you keep holding still under him.

The base of his ear is unbelievable soft under your fingers as you rub it and he pants harshly against your arm an entire war happening behind his eyes. Another broken whine raises in his throat and you smile up at him. It’s wobbly and not really all that convincing but a smile non the less.

“No one will look at you. I’ll make sure you’re safe. We’re okay. I promise. It’s okay. You can let go. Nothing will happen.”

You swallow down the pain and nerves addressing Nate. “Right? You won’t sedate him. It’s okay. He’s okay.”

You cannot see Nate's face from your position but he shuffles a few steps back, clearing his throat. “Yeah uhm. Sure?”

Simon’s eyes search yours and ever so slowly he widens his jaw, his wet and warm tongue laving over the bite mark once, his breath cool against the wet skin when he whimpers. Some of the tightness in your chest dissipates as the pain lessens just the tiniest bit.

“There you go. You’re doing so well, Simon. You can relax. Will you let me sit up?”

He takes in your expression, scanning your face for something and you patiently wait. Slowly he pulls his head back until your arm is safe from his teeth. Then he closes his mouth warily. You match his pace and as he slowly retreats from over you, you push yourself up, wincing when you put your weight on your arm.

Finally you’re sitting in front of him, cross legged and he watches you for a long moment. He’s subtly shaking and you attempt to smile at him again but all it does it make the tears spill over. Still you push through even if you can’t see his expression properly through the blur. Smiling almost hurts.

“Well done, Simon.”

The sight or the words make something snap and he lunges forward. You violently flinch, throwing your arms up again freezing when you suddenly have a lap full of malinois hybrid. His big arms are wrapped tightly around your middle and his face is pressed into your stomach while he half lays on you, his shaking growing stronger.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” He’s shivering so hard your entire body is rocking with it. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Your arms are still raised while he falls apart against you and you lower them slowly until you touch him. One hand presses on his back, which makes him in turn jump and bury his face harder against your stomach. The other hand finds his head again, petting him. He speaks through pained whimpers. “Forgive me. Sorry.”

You don’t know how long you sit there on the floor, your arm bleeding freely, soaking his shirt and your pants with your blood but at some point he stops shaking, stops apologizing through whimpers and simply holds onto you quietly. You don’t stop petting him through it all.

Nate is already looking at you when you look up at him. His eyes are wide, stressed and his tongue doesn’t stop tasting the air of the room. Your tears have run dry and your mouth curves up into a real smile.

“You’re insane.” He softly remarks into the quiet of the room but it doesn’t sound like an insult.

You blink at him slowly, protectively tightening your arms around Simon, drawing him in closer. He stiffens at that and then relaxes again. He’s awake, just not speaking anymore.

“Can you bring me something for my wounds?” You ask Nate and he looks at you long and hard in disapproval.

“You should go see a medical professional about it.” He advises and Simon curls more tightly around you his arms pressing him closer until his hold is almost painful. A second later he starts to extract himself from you, like he realizes what he just did but you hold him tight and he goes lax in your lap again.

“I’ll take care of the worst myself. I’ll see someone about it later.”

Nate shakes his head. “I don’t want to leave you alone with him not when…”

“I’m fine. You’ll be quick, right?” You interrupt gently. He nods but seems unconvinced. “Go Nate, or do you want me to lose more blood?” You ask with an almost teasing tone and he shakes his head again but begins moving.

“You’re insane.” He repeats and then he’s gone.

Your back starts cramping from sitting in your position for so long. Tenderly you stoke Simon’s hair. “Hey, big guy. Do you think we can move to the wall? Sitting like this is a little straining.”

He loosens his grip and it’s entirely ridiculous how you two scoot over the floor without changing the position you’re in until your back rests against the wall. You sigh with relief, relaxing some and your back stops screaming. That only making the uncomfortable pulsing of the wound in your arm more prominent.

Thank god that you have all the vaccines for dog hybrid bites. Courtesy of working with them and having been bitten not too long ago. Simon raises his head and you hold your breath. Somehow you expected him to cry but there’s no sign of it on his face. It’s dry and expressionless. He looks at your face, then your arm and slowly sits back up, examining it.

That’s how Nate finds you. He’s wary as he steps closer eying Simon like he’ll attack him any second and extends his hand with the little first aid kit towards you. You take it. Before you go to open it, Simon’s hand covers yours and you recoil like he bit you again, looking at him in shock.

His face is unreadable. “Let me?” He says it like a question and you nod mutely, watching him as his big hands open the kit and he gets started on cleaning the wounds.

Your heart jumps at every touch even though his movements are slow and steady. His big hands are surprisingly gentle as he takes care of the bite mark he put on you with practiced ease. Looking to Nate in bewilderment you catch him with his sight locked on Simon attentively. His tongue darts out every now and then but decidedly less hectic than before.

When he catches your stare he presses his lips together and you notice he’s still holding the syringe. Quietly you look at his face and then pointedly at the sedative and shake your head. He sighs audibly and Simon tenses again, like he’s bracing for something, even though he seems concentrated on wrapping your wounds.

You relax some more when Nate caps the needle. Simon raises your arm inspecting the stark white wrapping and the lets go, scooting back a bit and out of your personal space. Once again you’re locked into a staring match. Nate silently watches you two.

Soon enough the silence gets unbearable, uncomfortable and finally you need to say something, anything or you’ll implode.

“Hi.”

Simon’s expression settles back into a frown. Not in a talking mood it seems. Somehow that makes you grin. It brings you back to when he first woke up in the hospital.

“I just arrived. I wanted to see you as soon as possible and Nate was kind enough to take me to you.”

You give Nate a blinding smile and the snake hybrid shakes his head again. “You’re either insane or a saint.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment. Anyway, Simon, are you ready to move into our rooms with me? We have two rooms next to each other.” You offer and Nate takes half a step forward. Simon tracks the other hybrids movements out of the corners of his eyes.

“Now hold on. That’s nice and all but not happening. At least not today. I have to report the biting. If this was just about your relationship I wouldn’t object but we can’t move Simon into a populated wing if we don’t know for sure he won’t be a danger to everyone.”

 You can’t exactly argue with that, even if you’d like to. It makes sense and you just arrived. Maybe you missed something about Simon’s behavior that could be a threat. Even if you don’t think he is. He is pretty much exactly as you remember him. Although you have to admit to yourself that there’s some lingering fear at being in Simon’s presence, that wasn’t there before. You push it back down.

His attack was maybe a bit extreme but once again not the actions of a savage. If your judgement isn’t completely off, then it was simply an instinctive reaction to feeling threatened.

“Alright, I understand. Then…” You look around the barely furnished room. It reminds you a lot of ‘the cell’ at Rehybrid except it has an actual bed, a desk and chair and a door that leads to what you’d assume is a bathroom. Although the bare furniture is bolted into place as you notice.

“Simon.” You address the hybrid and his ears twitch in your direction. “Would you like me to stay the night here or go back to my room and come back tomorrow?”

You can see Nate open his mouth and level him with a flat stare which makes him promptly snap it shut. Simon cocks his head at you.

“He has a medical examination really early tomorrow, it’s more convenient if you…” Nate starts after all but Simon’s sudden and vicious growl makes him shut up.

You jerk around to look at the malinois hybrid. His expression is all threat again and aimed at Nate, his ears drawn back and fear clogs your throat. Maybe he is more aggressive than you thought. Maybe you’re a stupid softy and shouldn’t trust your judgement too much.

But except for the earlier attack he was relatively docile up to now. And his aggression isn’t aimed at you which makes it easier to judge with a level head.

Something isn’t right. He wouldn’t react like that for no reason.

“As his handler, I’d like to be present for that.” You state and Simon’s head whips back around to you his growl dying down his ears perking back up.

Nate sighs and drags his hands over his face. “Alright.” He glances between you and Simon and his face relaxes. “It’s getting late and I just want to go to bed. I’m getting irritated at all this because I’m so tired so stay or go back to your room but I need to sleep soon or I’ll pass out on you two or get mad and I don’t want that.”

You search his face and suddenly it hits you how obviously exhausted Nate looks. With everything that happened you didn’t pay any close attention to him. Sheepishly you look down and then at Simon again. It’s his call to make so you await his answer.

You two lock eyes for what feels like an eternity and finally you get to hear his rumbled reply.

“Stay.”

You nod your heart suddenly speeding up again but it’s not fear this time and you address Nate. “I’m staying here. Don’t worry about my stuff, I’ll take care of it tomorrow. Just go to bed Nate. I’ll be fine.”

The snake hybrid clearly has more on his mind but he doesn’t voice any of it, studying Simon and you who are still on the ground. A big yawn makes him finally leave for good but not before giving you his number so you can call in case anything happens.

The door clicks shut behind him and you’re alone with Simon.

Well, that was some reunion. You sigh deeply and let your body relax. Now that it’s just you two some of your nervousness returns and you have to remind yourself that Simon apologized for attacking you earlier. He also bandaged your wounds for you and had a breakdown in your lap so the chances of him attacking you to prove something are slim to none.

You’re glad you stopped Nate from sedating him. But even if everything went well in the end it doesn’t mean that your wounds aren’t rubbed raw. Now you try to hold all the ugly feelings that try to resurface down with rationality.

“Will you tell me what the growling was for when Nate mentioned tomorrow? What happened? Why did I get requested?” You find yourself asking. Skirting around the topic isn’t your thing and you need to know if you want a chance to do your job well.

Simon clears his throat and finally you can look him over calmly and actually take note of how his wounds look. The cuts on his face are mostly healed, leaving thin pink scars behind some still have a bit of crusting. You can’t exactly see the other wounds right now but his fingers aren’t in a cast anymore. Now they’re only taped together in a way that prevents him from using them too much and separately from each other.

“I trust you.” Simon says and that simple sentence slams into you like a sledgehammer. It makes you swallow against your tight throat and you blink a few times.

“What happened?” You ask again after collecting yourself and he huffs.

“Nothing.”

You raise one eyebrow unimpressed. “Oh really. Nothing has your hackles raised like that?”

He bares his teeth in frustration, gritting them and the sight has you leaning away from him slightly. He notices and lowers his lips looking at the floor.

“Nothing that warrants a reaction like mine.” He continues and you hum.

When he doesn’t go on further you gently encourage: “Listen Simon. I’m here for you. I came here to help you to be on your team. But if you want me to be able to do that you have to explain things to me so I know how to protect you best.”

He barks an unamused harsh laugh at that and you watch him as he stops and crumbles into himself, quieting down. “I should not need protection. I’m a soldier.”

Slowly, carefully you inch closer to his seated form. “I’m not talking about your strength. You’ve been MIA for months Simon. Whatever happened, you’re allowed to be affected by it. You’re allowed to be hurt and need help. It doesn’t make you weak or any less of a soldier to need help getting back on your feet. But I won’t know how to do that if you don’t speak to me.”

He looks back up and something in his face softens. He nervously licks his lips and begins forcing out words. “I was cuffed for the transport. As soon as I was here they wanted to do a medical exam. I was overwhelmed. I refused. They sedated me. But I was awake, I guess it only sedated my body not my mind. I was unable to move as they poked and prodded me, examined me. No one talked to me.” He shudders.

His explanation is short but it chokes you up and makes you clench your fist in anger at the same time. These fools. Fucking idiots and assholes. You start shaking and Simon looks at you concerned, notices your unshed tears and shakes his head.

“I don’t want your pity.” He almost snarls and if you weren’t so angry you’d flinch but your rage overshadows any other emotion, fills you to your fingertips until you don’t know where to put it anymore.

“I’m not pitying you.” You bite out and then breathe deeply to calm down. No need to raise your voice at him. “I’m angry.”

Simon jerks back, away from you and you quickly go on. “Angry at them! Your reaction is completely justified. I.... fuck I’m so mad I want to punch someone.”

That gets an actual laugh out of Simon and it startles you right out of your angry state. Genuine amusement dances in his light brown eyes and you can’t help but smile back. He has a nice laugh. It’s rough and very him.

“Do you even know how to throw a proper punch?” He teases and you lift your chin in mock offense.

“Of course I do.” You say your head held high. Simon chuckles warmly at that and you can’t help but grin at him. Some of the earlier heaviness finally lifting from the room.

A comfortable quiet settles over you two after that. The amusement lingers for a moment.

“I’m coming with you tomorrow. Just give me a sign if you’re uncomfortable. I’ll make sure they take it slow. I won’t let them touch you without your permission.” You say. It’s a promise.

“I didn’t mean to bite you.” Another hidden apology.

You look down at your neatly wrapped arm. It makes sense for him to be able to do basic first aid but you’re still surprised at how well and quick he did it. You shrug, your hand gently stroking over the bandages.

“I know that now. It’s not like it’s the first time either. I’ve had worse.”

A small growl builds in his chest but this time you manage to keep the fear back. It’s just a reaction to what you said. Not you. “What do you mean you’ve had worse?”

Instinctively your hand comes up to your shoulder pressing against the permanently scarred skin. Somehow that’s the scar you always go for as if it’s the only one Phillip left on you.

“Nothing important. You’re just not the first hybrid who bit me.” You try to keep it vague and you can see his eyes narrow but he doesn’t push. You’re not sure whether you’re relieved or disappointed.

Pointedly you look around the room taking in the little furniture. A small smirk settles on your lips as you look at Simon. “There is only one bed.”

Immediately a louder growl starts up in his chest and your smile vanishes. Okay that is definitely aimed at you and fear sinks it’s claws into your neck. “Hey, hey. I was only teasing. I will sleep on the floor. Don’t worry.”

He swallows down the threatening noise and looks to the side almost like he’s embarrassed by his own reaction. “No. You can have the bed.”

You shake your head and scoff. “Yeah right. I’ll take the bed when you’re the one still healing.”

His eyebrows furrow and you realize that that seems to be the expression he wears most of the time. He licks his lips his ears flickering up and down as if he doesn’t know what to express.

“We could share.” He says it so self assured you wouldn’t think he’s nervous about it if it wasn’t for his ears and his earlier growl.

“Only if you’re comfortable.” Your voice leaves no room for arguments.

He’s quiet for a long time mulling it over, frowning at the bed, and you almost tell him that you’ll sleep on the floor either way. When you open your mouth he grits out: “Don’t touch me.”

His tone is aggressive and not even a real answer but you simply nod. “I won’t. We can build a barrier out of the blanket, that way I can’t accidentally knock into you in the night. But only if you want that. I have no problem with sleeping on the floor.”

He doesn’t answer but he gets up and tugs the blanket off the bed. Silently he waits next to it and you guess that’s your sign to get in and sleep next to the wall. You’re not sure how you feel about the prospect of being caged between Simon’s large form and the wall but that’s probably the reason why Simon won’t slip in first.

You take off your shoes and crawl onto the mattress. The bed is obviously not meant for two so you press as close to the wall as you can. Simon puts one knee on the bed and then proceeds to spread the blanket over you in a surprisingly gentle gesture. Then he piles the rest next to you so it acts as a barrier.

For a moment he just looks at his work, then he grumbles something to himself, turns down the lights and gets in next to you. You note that he doesn’t turn the light off completely but that’s just fine by you. You prefer being able to see him and his intentions.

The quiet is tense but you don’t know what to say anymore so you just lay there staring at the ceiling and wait for sleep to claim you. It doesn’t help that your inner clock thinks it’s early evening.

Finally you can’t keep laying still like that and turn onto your side, craning your neck to look at Simon’s profile over the blanket barrier he build. His eyes are closed but you’re pretty sure he’s not asleep. His chest raises and falls too quickly for that and you watch the rhythm for a moment until it registers that he gave you the blanket.

“I’m not cold. You can have the blanket.” You whisper in case you’re wrong and he is asleep after all.

His eyes open and he keeps them on the ceiling. “Don’t need it. I run hot.”

You nod to yourself and tuck your knees in close so you don’t accidentally brush against him. Head relaxing back against the pillow so you’re left staring at the blanket. It takes forever but finally you do succumb to sleep.

You wake in the middle of the night with a gasp, sitting upright. You’re glad the light is on so you can see everything and your hand finds your painfully throbbing shoulder. It seems to have it’s own heartbeat and it’s beating in tandem with the new bite wound on your arm.

Guilty you look down at Simon’s stretched out form to find his golden eyes already fixed on you. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

He shakes his head and continues to watch as you press your hand to your chest and do your breathing exercise to calm back down. You don’t like that he sees you like this. Not when he signed for you to be his handler. You’re supposed to be his rock and have authority. Can he even take you serious when he gets to see you struggle like this?

Nothing on his face gives away what he thinks as you slowly find back to your own body. You check the barrier between you two and find it intact. You can’t help the sigh of relief that you let out at that and you catch the slightest movement of Simon’s ears.

Happy to escape his scrutinizing gaze you lay back down and once again you’re left staring at the blankets. How you wish you could reach out and touch him, reassure yourself and him but he asked you not to so you tuck your hands in close to your chest and close your eyes.

Movement of the fabric has you opening them again. You turn your head and see Simon peek over the barrier. He offers no comment but carefully arranges the blanket back over your body. In your panicked state you had thrown it off you. Again without so much as brushing his fingers against you. Once he’s satisfied that you’re covered properly he lays back down and you find yourself snuggling more into the blanket, pressing just the tiniest bit closer to the barrier. If you concentrate enough you can imagine that his warmth seeps through the thick fabric and settles around you.

You wake in the morning to a strange pressure against your front. It’s comforting but confusing because the blanket barrier shouldn’t be this unyielding. Your open eyes and don’t see anything besides the pristine white of the cover for a moment until your realize that you can see Simon’s shoulder rise and fall mere centimeters from you.

Now you’re wide awake, your breath hitching. The blanket is still firmly in place between the two of you and no part of you touches but Simon is curled up on his side too, pressed against the blanket just like you and although it separates you two you can feel his chest rising and falling against it. You can feel his legs against yours through it and for a second you think about getting up and putting as much distance between you and his sleeping form as possible.

A moment later you almost laugh at yourself while heat spreads through your cheeks. You crane your neck trying to see if Simon’s head peeks over the top of the barrier. It does.

Your eyes lock and you exhale on a rush. He’s awake.

Neither of you move and you can hear you blood rushing in your ears at his proximity. You’re sure if it weren’t for the thick cover between you you’d die of a heart attack. How his closeness can be stifling and comforting at once is a mystery to you but you don’t move either. Maybe it’s because you’re frozen in fear.

But the beat of your heart doesn’t spell out fear.

“Good morning.” You whisper. Instead of an answer the pressure against your front increases for a moment, then he rolls away from you and sits up, rubbing his palms over his tired face.

You find yourself doing the same and checking the time. It’s ridiculous how early you woke up but Simon’s already on his feet, tension in the harsh lines of his body and stretches for a moment his ears pressing flat against his head at his big yawn and you can’t help but smile. Definitely cute despite his size.

He catches your expression and seems confused. Instead of offering an explanation you fondly shake your head and get up too. Both of you silently wash up in the bathroom. It’s comfortable and you find only the faintest traces of yesterdays fear left in you. Somehow Simon manages to put you at ease, despite his attack.

It’s not long before Nate appears. He opens the door slowly and peeks inside. Once he sees you the relief is visible on his face and he steps in fully.

“Thank god, I was worried I’d find you in shreds.”

The way he says it so earnestly makes you giggle and Simon’s almost always present frown deepens. “It’s time for Simon to go to the doctor’s.”

Simon’s entire demeanor changes and he backs up against a corner. His lips peel back and Nate’s expression turns sad.

He opens the door wider and two more men step in. Apparently they also work at the center. One holds a muzzle the other one a collar and a leash and Nate once again has a sedative in hand. Your eyes widen and you step in front of Simon, very aware of him snarling behind you. Putting yourself between him and the men is probably stupid especially since you can’t see what he’ll do next but you can’t have them adding to his stress.

You raise your hands placatingly. “Gentlemen, please. This is hardly necessary.”

One of the guys scoffs. “Tell that to him. He’s not allowed out of this room without leash and muzzle but he won’t put it on. There is no other way. I sure as hell won’t suffer another attack from him. And we don’t have the time for discussions.”

Now it’s your turn to frown almost scowling at them. “Surely you can spare a few more minutes if it’s for the sake of one of the hybrids who’s supposed to heal here?” You say, some venom seeping into your tone.

You’re aware that you’re new here and hardly endearing yourself to your presumed co-workers but you’re here for Simon. Not for them. They roll their eyes but stay back and you mull over your options.

“Leave the leash and muzzle here and out. All of you.” You say in a commanding voice that you’re pretty sure you have no right to wield. Yet they listen and you catch Nate taste the air and nod at you a slight smile on his lips.

When the door closes you turn on your heels and meet Simon’s angry expression.

“You don’t want the leash and muzzle?” You question, voice soft once again.

He shakes his head his canines still exposed and you remember how they ripped at your flesh. The phantom pain shoots through your entire body this time and you square your shoulders. It’s time to be his handler. You don’t have the luxury of wallowing in self pity.

“I’m afraid there is no way around it at this point in time.” He straightens up further and his growl redoubles.

You raise your hands. “Simon listen to me.” He’s staring through you, he’s probably not really listening, trapped somewhere in his racing thoughts so you raise your voice slightly. “Simon!”

He starts, his ears coming forward for a moment before he goes back to his aggressive stance.

“I do not want them to hurt you. But I need you to let the doctor check up on you. I promise I will not let anything bad happen. I promise I will protect you. But if you want anything to go differently than before you’ll have to take the muzzle and leash.” You explain. You hate that there is no other way. You just arrived, you have no idea how necessary the check up is and you can’t refuse on his behalf when you don’t know whether he’s healed enough.

He considers you, hatred in his eyes and you try not to let it burn you. It’s such a heavy contrast to the way he looked at you earlier when he peeked at your over the cover. It’s such a difference to when you’re alone in a safe little bubble you two get to design by yourselves.

You exhale heavily and take the leash and muzzle in hand before turning back to Simon. He eyes the two devices like they’re meant to torture him.

You hold up the muzzle, showing it to him and he physically steps back. Instead of going after him, you open the muzzle at the back. “Look. This is how you get it open. It’s designed so you can take it off yourself. No one can force you to keep it on. It’s meant as a helpful device to keep you from hurting others in a stressful moment because often the biting happens on instinct and hybrids regret it afterwards.”

His eyes flicker down to your bandaged arm and then fixate back on the muzzle.

“I won’t even need to touch you to put it on. You can do it yourself.” You continue in the softest voice you can muster. Then you show him the leash. He doesn’t retreat further but the fire in his eyes burns even brighter.

You show him how the collar can be opened and closed. “You can also put this on yourself. I will not let anyone else hold the leash.”

It’s kind of pointless, you know he doesn’t want you to hold the leash just as much as he doesn’t want the men in front of the door to hold it. But at least you’ll hold it softly.

You hold the leather leash up. “I will not yank on it or choke you with it. I will only hold it so we’re connected and I can keep you from getting hurt. I will lead you with a gentle hand and never towards harm.”

Silence falls over the room and you realize that he stopped growling during your explanation. You said what you could, now it is up to him. You can feel your pulse thrum in your neck a silent plea. Please trust me. Let me lead you. Let me show you it can be different than what you experienced so far.

You offer it all to him in your outstretched hands and wait. There is nothing else you can do besides ask him to comply. Sure you’re the authority but only if Simon wants you to be. You hope he remembers that he signed the handler-hybrid papers first. You hope he remembers that he said he trusts you.

His legs carry him towards you and your breath hitches. There’s sweat on his forehead and you stay still as a statue while he takes the muzzle. Carefully he opens and closes the latch a few times, making sure it’s easy to operate. Then he slips it over his face locks and unlocks it at least five more times before he fastens it. His chest heaves with harsh pants as he takes the leash from your hands next and you lower them slowly so you don’t spook him.

Once again he tests the buckle and then fastens the collar around his neck. You notice that he left plenty of room which is technically not how he’s supposed to wear it but you decide not to address it.

His eyes find you but they’re slightly unfocused and you speak to him again. “Well done, Simon. Thank you.”

He jerks back at your words his eyes wide and his panting stops. You’re not sure whether it’s the praise or the fact you expressed gratitude but you leave it at that.

Slowly you hold out your hand, waiting for him to place the leash in your hold instead of taking it up yourself. It looks comically thin in his large palm as he grabs the end and clenches his fist around it. Patiently you wait giving him what you hope is a reassuring smile.

Tensing up even more he places the end in your hand and plants his feet as if he expects you to jerk him forward. Loosely you curl your own fist around the leather and let your arm rest relaxed against your side. The grin you gift him with feels silly with how bright it is but you’re incredibly proud of the big hybrid.

“Follow me.” You softly command testing how he’ll react to you expecting him to follow your words without making it a request. To your surprise he easily falls into step, walking towards the door and waits patiently when you open it.

You stay in front of him and address the men in the corridor who stare at the both of you like you suddenly grew multiple heads. “Do not touch him and stay in front of us, leading the way.”

Nate recovers first, grinning widely and in his slightly reptilian face it looks almost evil. “I knew it.” He hisses delighted and turns to lead the way, the two other guys following behind not even arguing with you at this point.

Simon walks behind you and you turn to him without halting your footsteps. “Come here. Next to me.”

His long legs eat the distance and he walks along beside you, the leash hanging loosely between you. Simon’s face is set into a frown and there’s still sweat beading at his hairline but his breathing is at a frequency that doesn’t worry you and you hum in satisfaction. The ear closest to you swivels towards the sound for a second.

It doesn’t take long until you’re in the doctors office and it makes you feel slightly ridiculous that you have two grown men in addition to Nate accompany you. The doctor gapes at you and Simon, eyes comically wide while looking between you two and the way the large hybrid follows your lead.

She stands up gives you a curt hello and snaps on latex gloves. “Let’s get this over with.”

You frown at her tone and as soon as she stands up Simon starts growling, like a ferocious beast, backing up a bit. The doctor sighs and nods at the men who accompanied you. “Sedate him.”

You straighten up. “Don’t!” You command. The men look between you and the doctor unsure who to listen to. Narrowing you eyes you take a small step in front of Simon. “There is no need to sedate him.”

She clicks her tongue at you and rests her weight on one leg, pushing out her hip. “You’re his new handler? You arrived when? Yesterday? I know how to treat my patients now step aside and let us do our damn job.”

Her tone almost makes you want to cower, not one for confrontation, but you remind yourself why you’re here. “I do not mean to disrespect but I brought him here of his own free will without any need for sedation so I’d really appreciate it if we could work together to make sure my charge is comfortable during the examination.”

She almost scoffs at you and takes a step closer, Simon flinches and you hold out your hand, stopping her from taking another step. Way to go. It’s your first day and you’re already pissing of personnel you’re supposed to work with. But you cannot let it slide, not with the way Simon reacts. After what he told you, you’re certain that there is a reason for it.

“You’re the one who isn’t working with me. So step aside and let me do my job. A job you know nothing about.” Her tone is sharp, biting and it makes your hand itch to slap the arrogance out of her.

You square your shoulders and gather all the leftover confidence you can find in your body. “No. Not when my charge is uncomfortable. Are there any other doctors at this center or do we have to find one who doesn’t work here?” You calmly answer and her mouth drops open.

Something flashes in her eyes and before she can respond Nate steps forward placatingly lifting his hands. “Hey now. It’s a perfectly reasonable and normal request. Yes there are other doctors. We’ll ask for someone else.”

The Doctor grits her teeth in displeasure but doesn’t argue against Nate and you raise your brows. Interesting. Nate seems to be in a position of authority. Breed wise he’d be supposed to be a companion hybrid. But he evidently works here and holds a higher position than some humans.

His hand finds your shoulder and squeezes briefly. Then he escorts the doctor out of the room, telling you he’ll be back soon with someone else.

The door closes behind the two of them and you’re left with Simon and the other two guys. You exhale heavily, your shoulders dropping and turn to Simon. His shirt is soaked with sweat on his chest but now that the doctor left he seems to slowly come back to himself.

Honey coloured eyes regard you as you ask him if he’s okay. The nod is slow but enough to reassure you and you don’t have to wait for long until the door opens again and Nate steps in with a middle-aged man. His hair is black and brushed back, some stray grays at his temples but his face is so kind it immediately puts you at ease.

“Welcome. You must be his new handler. I’m glad you could make it. Please take a seat. I’m Doctor Graham.”

You stay on your feet but give him a friendly smile and a nod. Mentally you pat your back for standing your ground because Simon’s staying quiet, seemingly not as stressed by him. “Yes. I’m happy I can be here. What’s the plan for today's exam?”

At that word Simon shifts on his feet. You wish you could put a reassuring hand on his shoulder but he doesn’t want you to touch him, so you don’t.

“I need to check his wounds for inflammation and their status of healing.”

You nod and the doctor gestures at the examination table. You look at Simon and try to seem as reassuring as possible. “Go on, sit down.”

It surprises you anew when he listens and parks himself on the table. The doctor blinks owlishly at the scene and something akin to gratification spreads in your chest. Look at this, look at what a well behaved hybrid he is and look how wrong you all judged him, you think grimly.

“Please take your shirt off, Simon.” The doc asks and to your surprise Simon looks at you his head slightly tilted.

The weight of his questioning gaze almost makes you crumble to your knees. It’s like he’s testing you. You think back to the hospital. How distressed showing skin made him and you look at Nate and the other two men in the room.

“Doctor Graham, I apologize for the trouble but could you be so kind as to send our audience away. I do not think it is necessary to let them witness the examination.”

The Doc startles in surprise looks around the room and then does as you say. Finally it’s just the three of you and you nod at Simon. “Can you take it off?”

He swallows audibly and slowly his hands go to the hem of his shirt. The hesitation makes you nervous and you wish you could prevent him from having to do this. Before he begins undressing you turn to the Doctor again.

“I’m sorry but is there another way we can do this? I’d like to keep him from harm. Is there a way for this to work without us watching him?” You pray the doctor won’t brush you off. Hopefully your continuous questions and wishes don’t annoy him.

He smiles, crow feet growing more prominent around his eyes and he thinks. Simon’s frozen with his hands on his shirt. It doesn’t look like you’re making an enemy here so you continue.

“If the wounds have been okay up to now maybe he could check them following your instructions without us watching and he can tell you what you need to know?”

Both the Doctor and Simon’s gaze weigh on you and you wish you could shrivel up and disappear but you promised Simon to protect him and you intend to follow through with it.

Doctor Graham looks over a file, scanning the information. You hold your breath and then the older man nods slowly. “Yes, that could work. But he’d have to speak to me for that.”

“Simon?”

His nostrils flare and he nods. “Yes.”

Once again the doctors blanks, then he seems to remember where he is and turns around with his chair. You step closer to Simon and let go of the leash. “I’ll be right here. Just do as the Doc says. No one will look at you.” You quietly instruct well aware that the Doctor can hear you anyway in the dead silent room.

You turn around and the sound of fabric rustling makes you clench your fist. You watch the doctor look at a chart. “Do you have any wounds that feel tender or hot?”

“No.”

He nods and writes something down then he proceeds to lead Simon through the process of checking every wound even instructing him how to check his ribs and fingers. Somehow they manage with Simon’s one word answers and you find yourself slowly relaxing.

Doctor Graham is professional but warm and it makes you feel like crying. It’s absurd how kindness makes your eyes wet but the female doctors harshness didn’t. Once Simon is dressed again you turn back around and give him an approving nod.

Doctor Graham looks up. “I need to rewrap your fingers, Simon.” He calmly states. You expect Simon to grow agitated but he simply nods, holding out his fingers.

The process makes him flinch whenever the doctor touches him but it barely takes a minute until it’s done. Expectantly you hold out the hand for Simon’s leash again and he drops the end into your palm so you can grab it again. You wait for the Doctors dismissal, instead he kindly smiles at you and points at the examination table.

“Your turn. Let me take a look at your arm.”

Bewildered you look at your neatly wrapped arm, having completely forgotten about it. Something about that makes you laugh quietly and you let go of Simon’s leash again. The big hybrid parks himself against a wall and watches as the Doctor unwraps your arm.

The bite looks angry, the wounds deceptively small but the skin and flesh are black and blue, bruised all over and tender to the touch. You can feel Simon’s eyes on the wound like a physical touch while the practiced hands of the doctor check the wound, put some ointment on it and rewrap it.

It’s honestly not surprising when he tells you that your bones probably took some damage too, although not enough to break and that you should take it easy on that arm for a while.

Finally you’re all done and Simon comes up to you, handing you the leash. Before you go, you address the Doctor once more. “Thank you so much for being so accommodating, doctor. And I’m sorry if I caused any trouble by asking for you.” You don’t know how to explain further without going on a tangent but his lips quirk up and he nods.

“It’s not a problem. We’re here to help. And please, just call me Graham without the doctor. We’re coworkers now.” His hand is warm as it engulfs yours when you say goodbye.

Nate is still waiting outside and before you know it you’re back in Simon’s little room. You let go of the leash and beam up at him. “You did so well Simon. I’m really proud of you.”

Before you can add anything he’s already ripped the muzzle off his head and unbuckled the collar letting it all drop to the floor. He takes a few steps back and shudders. You watch him concerned but he seems to calm down soon enough and once Nate deems it safe he turns to you.

“The handler management wants to talk to you. I reported the attack and initially they wanted to keep him locked up here but I took the liberties of telling them about this morning too and they want to talk to you before making their decision. We can’t keep him here forever and expect him to make any progress.”

[gracie-eilish]

billie x reader with a scalp massager 😭

-weirdo💙

an: no because i fear i might melt away into a puddle of magical lovey dovey sparkleness if this ever happened.

thank you for the request love bug☺️😘

an: also pls ignore the formatting! i typed half of this on my laptop but then it died so i used my phone for the other half and now the spacing is weird. idk. the story is still there lol!!🤷‍♀️🩷

You sat on the couch in Billie’s studio, half-watching the soft glow of the lights reflect off her focused expression as she worked on her new song. She had her headphones on, brows furrowed in concentration as she adjusted the volume, then leaned in to tweak something on the keyboard. Watching her in her element was mesmerizing, but after a while, you started feeling a bit… ignored.

You let out an exaggerated sigh, hoping she’d hear it. No response. You stretched your legs out, tapped your fingers against the couch, and sighed again, even louder this time. Still nothing. Finally, you got up and walked over, poking her shoulder.

She pulled one ear of her headphones off, glancing up at you with a small smile. “Yes?” she asked, amusement flickering in her eyes as if she already knew what was coming.

You put on your best pout. “I’m bored,” you whined, leaning against the back of her chair. “And you’re ignoring me.”

A soft laugh escaped her, and she turned back to her computer, typing out a few more notes. “Baby, I just need a few more minutes, okay? Almost done.”

You sighed dramatically again. “But that’s what you said ten minutes agooooooooo.” You circled your arms around her shoulders from behind, resting your chin on top of her head. “Can’t I just steal you away for a little while?”

She chuckled, patting your arm. “Give me five more minutes, I promise. Then I’m all yours.”

Unconvinced, you flopped onto the couch, giving her your best puppy eyes from across the room. “What if I get lonely over here?” you called out, grinning.

Billie finally looked over, her face softening as she took in your playful pout. “Oh my gosh, you are too much,” she said, shaking her head. She turned back to her work, but you could see her struggling to hold back her smile.

You decided to up the stakes. You shuffled off the couch, tiptoeing up behind her before wrapping your arms around her shoulders again, this time leaning in to plant a quick kiss on her cheek. “How’s it going, genius?” you whispered, trying to sound innocent.

A tiny blush crept onto her cheeks. She let out a sigh, finally giving in. “You’re really not gonna let me finish, are you?”

You shook your head, grinning as you held her a little tighter. “Nope. And you love it,” you teased, pressing another kiss to her cheek.

She laughed, finally spinning her chair to face you. “Alright, you win.” She grabbed your hand, tugging you closer as she settled her hands around your waist, pulling you down onto her lap. “Attention granted, happy now?”

“Yeah,” you replied, wrapping your arms around her neck and nuzzling into her shoulder. Her hands held you close, fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back.

“My head kinda hurts tho,” you grumbled quietly, with a pout.

She tilted her head, looking at you with that familiar, loving sparkle in her eyes.

Her cheeks flushed, as she leaned in, pressing her lips softly to yours. “Alright, little attention-seeker,” she teased between kisses. “What should we do now? Why is your head bothering you?”

You hummed thoughtfully, snuggling closer. “Can we go upstairs maybe?”

Billie hummed in amusement, she knew what you wanted now. And she was fairly certain your head didn’t actually hurt. But your little pout and puppy eyes were drawing her in.

“Mkayyy, sure babygirl,” she squinted teasingly. “My poor baby, her head just hurts so bad we have to go upstairs.” She sighed out dramatically while scooping you up bridal style and headed upstairs.

You nuzzled your head into her neck further, smiling victoriously.

Once you got upstairs Billie plopped you into the bed before heading into the bathroom to grab something.

While she was gone, you got yourself comfy on the bed, tucking yourself under the mountain of blankets and fluffing the pillows to your liking, but quickly flopping back down when Billie re-entered the room. She just chuckled lowly and made her way to the bed, slipping in next to you.

She wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer so your head rested on her tummy so she had access to your scalp.

You were practically purring as Billie started moving the little scalp massager on your head. Softly and slowly, making sure not to scratch or poke you. After all your head did hurt just so badly… ;)

You nuzzled your head closer into her tummy, to where you could perfectly hear her heartbeat. You closed your eyes and let the sensation take over.

“Feels good, doesn’t it mama?” Billie chuckled at your blissed out expression, eyes half open and a sleepy smile on your lips.

“Mmm hmmm…” you mumbled, barely able to make a coherent sentence.

She pulled you a bit closer while she continued to move the massager around, hitting all the spots you needed. She knew she had been successful when your eyes had shut and your little snores actually sounded like purrs.

Slowly she removed the massager from your hair, not wanting to poke you, before snuggling in herself and joining you in sleep.

“Why’d you stop?” Your tiny voice broke the silence, making Billie giggle.

“I’m sorry my little kitty, I thought you were asleep,” she said with a chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before resuming her little scalp massage.

She smiled, pulling you close as you nestled into her warmth, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. “You’re so clingy sometimes, you know that?” she whispered, though her tone was full of affection.

You smirked, running your up and down her arm. “Yep. You love it, though.”

Billie’s arms tightened around you. “I really do,” she said softly.

[halestrom]

“You should kiss me at midnight.”

Jake stilled, turning his head to stare at Rooster, well aware of the silence around them as the daggers stopped and stared at them. He thought of a dozen things to ask. Or say, as he leaned back in his chair and took in Rooster. His over shirt was long gone. Leaving him in clearly loved t-shirt with long faded words, a size or two small so it stretched across his chest and stopped above his bellybutton, a good few inches of tan skin bared. His hair was messy, alcohol and a long afternoon fading into night making his curls win the fight against whatever he used to keep them in place. He was sweaty, but they all were. The bar was sweltering, and Jake had long since unbuttoned his shirt, soaking up the attention in the form of eyes staring at his chest. Rooster looked good. He knew he did if the smirk on his face was any indication.

But Jake wasn’t ever gonna make things easy.

“What’s in it for me?” he asked, tilting his chin up, daring, commanding an answer worth his time.

Rooster didn’t back down. “I suck dick real well when motivated. And I love making out so it’s good motivation.”

Fanboy groaned, tilting against Payback as others around them gagged but Jake ignored them. “I wanna leave but I don’t, you know?” He hissed, trying to be quiet but too drunk.

Jake ignored him, and the eyerolls directed his way. “And?” He bent his elbow to prop his chin on his fist. “So, do I. You’re not special.”

“No?”

Jake grinned. “Nah. Try again.”

“Well, the fact that it’s not an instant no says a lot,” Rooster said, not moving, gaze locked with Jake’s, and it felt like the rest of the world fell away.

This was a moment that had always had the chance to be there. It never built. It simmered. Lingering under the surface for a long time and aside from one ill advised hook up had never gone anywhere. And Jake knew it never would because their career was the most important thing. They wouldn’t fuck that up. Not unless they were sure.

And it seemed like Rooster was finally taking that chance.

Jake hummed, watching Rooster for a long moment, the bar around him fading. “Buy me a drink.”

Rooster grinned, looking at the still full glass of beer. “You’ve got one.”

“Maybe I don’t like this one.”

“You’re a big boy. You can buy your own.”

Jake snorted. “Wow. Really selling it there.”

Rooster shrugged again, smirk firmly in place. Ever since the mission a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and Jake would be lying to himself if it didn’t want to draw him in. The second guessing was done, and all the ego Rooster pretended to have before had changed. He wasn’t pretending anymore, and Jake would be lying if it didn’t feel like catnip to him. He knew he had an ego, and more than one person he had been with had commented on how he could almost steamroll over everyone. But Rooster had never been one of those people. He had met Jake word for word. Comment for comment and had never backed down.

“I don’t need to sell it sweetheart. You’re just being an asshole because you can.”

Jake let out a bark of laughter at the, mostly, accurate statement. He was being an asshole just because he could. But he was also doing it because he had always loved it when Rooster fought back. “That so?”

Rooster raised his beer to his lips with a smile. “Yeah baby. It is.”

“Hmmm, well, doesn’t seem like you’re getting a kiss,” Jake said, leaning back and picking up his own drink to finish it off in a long swallow, not breaking the gaze.

Rooster tilted his head back, watching Jake as he stood. “Yeah I am.”

“Confident,” Jake said, knocking his knuckles against the table, breaking the spell. “And on that note, I’m gonna go get a drink.”

As if summons, one of the over worked waitresses appeared, handing Jake a drink with a jerk of her head toward Rooster before she disappeared again, the crowd beginning to surge as the minute warning started. Jake stared at the drink, and then back at Rooster who was grinning, proud of himself. He leaned back against the chair and crooked a finger toward Jake who was half staring at the drink wondering how the fuck Rooster had managed to do that. They weren’t at the Hard Deck, which would’ve made sense, but it was a random bar for the night, they all needed to get away from the Navy for one night.

Jake heard a round of groans as he shrugged, grabbed the drink and walked around the table and slid into Roosters lap, surprising the man if the raised eyebrows were any indication.

Shurgging, Jake wrapped an arm around Roosters neck and shifted forward, his legs spreading wide so he could get close and he felt a hand rest on his lower back, sliding under his shirt.

“Told you that you just needed to buy me a drink,” Jake said with a smirk, reaching back and setting the drink down.

Rooster snorted. “Was that it?”

Jake shook his head. “Nah, the competence.” He paused and leaned in closer as the countdown hit thirty. “There’s nothing better than a man who knows what he wants and goes for it.”

That made Rooster laugh, shaking his head. “Baby, trust me I’ve always known I’ve wanted you. I just had to fight some shit out.”

“And you have?”

The hand on his back slid lower into his back pocket as the countdown hit ten. “Yeah I have.”

Jake curled his hands around Rooster’s neck, thumbs stroking over his jaw as he pressed in closer, feeling fingers dig into his ass.

“Right answer,” he said just as the count hit zero and Jake kissed Bradley, feeling the other man surge up into the kiss as the crowd around them started to cheer as the New Year rolled in.

[bunicate]

he’s worried that he won’t fit. a monolith of a man, inches stacked upon inches, with a body molded to be a weapon of war.

he’s too rigid, too sharp, too big, and scary to be told to sit still like a mindless toy, but he does so anyway.

könig listens to whatever you tell him to because he likes to hear that little excited mewl you sing when his thumb nudges that pudgy spot.

he’s overdressed, to say the least. his tactical gear is haphazardly strewn on his body. he was going to completely disrobe, but you insisted he keep it on whilst you climbed over him completely naked.

nothing but a soft little thing, bottom round and fat, bouncing and riding his thumb of all things. his hand rests over his crotch, large finger pointing outward only to be swallowed by your tight wet slit.

sure, it’s an unusual sight but also a pretty one. It's obscured a bit from the graceful sway of your pretty tits, but greedily he watches the every-so-often turn of your head to see the flesh of your own ass jiggle with every stroke of your hips.

his muscled body is barely tucked between your soft thighs as you draw your much-needed pleasure from his thumb— not his cock. even his tongue would suffice, to fuck apart your taut center with his mouth.

he’s definitely big enough to do it, but no, your fascination lies with his hands.

“so big kö. . . “

he wants to laugh, whether it’s out of exasperation or pure disbelief that his one finger could drag out such a reaction.

maybe he’s underestimated the size difference, maybe the little bunny hopping in his lap is much smaller than he thought. maybe he’s bigger than he thought.

“s’not even my cock, liebling. . .”

puffy lips enclose around the appendage, only seeming to fatten up from your aggressive rhythm. your fingers dig into his shoulders to steady yourself as your hole gushes out little creamy spurts of your wetness.

“if my thumb is so big how can i expect you to take my cock, hm ?”

it’s light-hearted, but you can sense the not-so-hidden layer of his anxiety. you’ve seen him in all of his naked glory, how his cock is as big as the rest of him. how swollen it gets when you’ve teased him too much, and it swells against his abdomen with erratic thumps, but you’ve mastered re-assuring the sweet giant.

“im gonna do it . don’t worry . .”

you slightly speed up your little bounces, enjoying the way your clit grazes against his clad body.

könig’s rough hand rests on your ass, parting the fat cheek to watch the hungry convulse of your pussy.

“you’re so good to me, so I know you’re gonna take care of me, kö.”

that adorable sentiment makes him harder. his balls tighten in his pants, aroused simply by the thought of tending to his saccharine sweet girl.

keuche in meinem verdammten mund. sag mir, wie gut ich auf dich aufpasse. ‘pant in my fucking mouth. tell me how good I am at taking care of you’.

his cock aches, incredibly turned on by the thought of his precious girl having faith that he’d handle you with such trust.

he’d try.

he’ll kiss your messy holes, and rub your tender and sodden flesh with rough and scar-lined fingers. hands ghosted with the souls of stolen life, plunging into your wet cunt until it can stretch to finally take his cock.

“keep hopping f’me, hase.”

he spanks the widest part of your ass eliciting more of your drooly whines.

“daddy will get you nice and ready for his fat cock, ja?”

you’re losing the strength to keep yourself up, and the impact on the roundness of your butt propels you a bit forward. you let it happen.

you lean into him, kissing him messily on the mouth over his tattered mask breathing hot air, “ mhm. can’t wait anymore, baby. . .”

“ schiesse. excited for me to pound that little pussy ?” he chuckles. it’s a little pathetic, your flappy little clit wipes against the skin of his hand and that’s it to make you twitch violently.

he mutters a string of things in german.

you can’t make out what he’s saying exactly, but you know it’s filthy and gross. he’s sucking marks on your neck, groaning and rambling in your ear as you leak all over his lower half. his other hand cups you to help guide your bottom.

“ fuck. . . ah ah ah. koo . . m’gonna cum . .”

he’s far too worked up, thrilled even that any part of him will always be enough to satisfy you from his massive size.

he wiggles his finger deeper , poking and sliding between your walls until you seize around him.

god, it’s precious. you're pulling on him, whining and tossing in his embrace, begging him to hold you.

“ so perfect, schatz.”

so soft, so little when he untangles your limbs. so pretty when he lays you on the bed and tucks his pruned finger in your tiny mouth.

your cheeks suction and your lips pucker around his thumb, slowly dragging your head up and down just like he taught you.

“thaaat’s it maus. . . y’like big things in your mouth, hm ?”

he rubs his erection through the cotton twill. those doe eyes blink up at him in a daze as you lick your ruin from the hands all too familiar with terror.

“gutes kleines mädchen.” good little girl.