#you’ll think you won’t get through it

[seungisms]

🖇️📁 𝐒𝐊𝐙 … 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐁/𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, do not interact if you’re under 18

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, phone sex, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), orgasm denial, overstimulation, edging, degradation, body worship, dry humping, spanking, cum eating, mentions of period sex, sub/dom dynamics

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: got a bit carried away here cus i've just missed my boys so much, it feels good to be writing for them again :( kiwi!hyunjin was imagined for this cus his shaved head is the sole reason i'm keeping it together rn, sub!jisung 🗣️🗣️🗣️

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍

king of service tops

he’s such a doting dom and will happily ignore his own needs as he coaxes orgasm after orgasm out of you

will spend hours with his head tucked between your thighs, ignoring the swell of his dick just to make a fucked out mess out of you

pants into your pussy when you whine and claw at the sheets beneath him, large hands keeping your trembling thighs spread open so his tongue can fuck deeper into your cunt

your pretty whimpers making his needy cock leak with precum onto the mattress

groans into your pussy as your hands tangle themselves in his hair, blunt nails leaving dents in the plush skin of your thighs

soso caring and attentive with you

fully aware of the size difference between you and will have to restrain himself from just flipping you over and using your pussy like a fleshlight

but he doesn’t wanna hurt you :(

fucks so gentle

will gently nudge his cock between your dripping folds, looking down at you with the most lovesick look on his stupid face and you’ll just have to look away to focus on the slight stretch of your hole around his thick member before you start begging this man to fuck a baby into you

leaves hot open-mouthed kisses against your neck and chest and traces your hip fondly with his thumb, shushing your small gasps as he stuffs you full

only ever gets rough with you when he’s had a stressful week and hasn’t slept

won’t even bother to greet you as he walks through the door, finding you snuggled up in bed with nothing but one of his tops on and a pair of stupid frilly panties that he wants nothing more than to rip off you

shoves your face into the pillows and props your ass up in the air, rubbing his clothed cock against your pussy

complete 180 from his usual self, will take what he wants and tells you to stfu and be grateful for what he gives you 😔

gets pussy drunk so easily and starts babbling nonsense while splitting you in two

“don’t wanna hear any of your bitching today sweetheart, take it like a good girl.”

“you’re so pretty taking my cock so good.”

fucks into your pussy until he’s made a complete mess of it, creamy and full of cum

even as a sub he’s still dom leaning <3

loves when you take care of him after a particularly hard day

playing with his soft cock as he leans back and watches you through sleepy eyes, soft praises and groans leaving his lips

nearly cums right away when you take him deep into your mouth, nose pressed against his pelvis before pulling off - thumb pressing into the sensitive slit of his cock head and peppering soft kisses on the underside

nearly melts when you run a bath for him to relax his sore muscles, coaxes you to join him and before you know it you’re stuffed to the brim on his lap, claiming it’ll help get rid of his stress and how could you deny this fool :( 

loves that he doesn’t have to do any of the work when you take care of him like this, walls clenching around his fat dick, tits pressed tightly against his chest and tired groans against your neck as your hands card through his wet hair

nuts so quick when he subs

starts apologising all cutely when he does, leaving a tired kiss against your lips and promising he’ll fuck you like he means it next time

this man fucks like an animal after a good nights rest istg

definitely more dom leaning but also loves when you take over now and again and fuck him until he’s empty headed - thinking about nothing but filling up your warm cunt until it’s a sticky used mess

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎

this man is a hard dom through and through and nothing can change my mind

extremely patronising when he’s dicking you down 

will have his fingers stuffed deep in your pussy, thumb pressing down on your puffy nub as he watches you squirm and whimper against him

gets such a sick glint in his eyes when he hears you cry about how you can’t take anymore, tutting under his breath in mock disappoint - claiming he knows you can give him better than that

will degrade and overstimulate you to the point of tears, just so he can keep hearing those pretty whimpers of yours

“look at the mess you’ve made, haven’t even had a taste of cock yet and you’re acting like such a slut already.”

is so vile and mean with his teasing

spits onto your clit while fucking his fingers into you, curling them and stretching you open - gets such a kick out of the dumb look that takes over your cute face, jaw going slack and hips bucking up to meet the thrusts of his long digits

“god you’re so tight, how are you gonna be able to take my dick when you can barely handle this.”

will edge you towards orgasm again and again before ripping it away from you at the very last second, a smug grin on his face the whole time

loves when you start begging for him

and will literally laugh in your face and call you a ‘pathetic, cock drunk mess’

just absolutely loves overstimulating your cunt with his tongue, fingers, dick - literally anything!! as long as he reduces you to a trembling, babbling state in the end

slaps your clit when you misbehave, giving you a stern look and tutting lowly when you whimper in response 

likes fucking your mouth when he’s in a shitty mood

comes home and slams the door close in frustration, dick swelling against his jeans at the sight of you sitting all sweetly on the sofa waiting for him and before you know it he has his fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back and telling you to get on your knees like a good girl

feeds his cock down your throat and uses the grip on your hair to control your pace, making you take him deep until you’re choking around him

fucking loves the desperate you get when you’re on your knees for him

and will only fuck your mouth harder when he catches sight of your fingers slipping into your panties, playing with your nub as you suck on his tip

makes you watch as he gets himself off as punishment, ordering you to keep your hands splayed out on your thighs as he fists his cock - catching sight of your fingers twitching in need, just begging to dip back into your hot core

loves keeping you on a leash like the good puppy you are, the need practically seeping out of you and when he finally allows you to sink down on his veiny cock you start whining like a bitch in heat

it’s gonna be hard to fuck the dom out of this one

he’ll constantly fight the idea of being your sub, basically laughing in your face at the thought of you taking control

certainly wasn’t laughing when he wakes up the next day with his hands cuffed to your headboard, eyes narrowing when he spots you sitting all cutely at the end of the bed on your knees

he nearly loses it

[name], i swear to god if you don’t let me out right now i’m gonna fuck you until you’re begging me to stop.”

“don’t make promises you can’t keep minho.”

istg bro nearly crashes out

especially when you start teasing him about his swollen cock, red and angry and twitching all desperate to feel your pussy wrapped around it

“i don’t know minho, you defiantly seem to be liking this.”

and he swears as soon as he’s out of those cuffs your poor little pussy is gonna be wrecked

lowkey loves the sight of you using him though, lifting your pretty little body up before sinking back down achingly slow - warm walls closing in around him and all the fight he seemed to have earlier is nowhere to be found

gets so empty headed the more you torture him - threats turning into suppressed whines, his sneers going slack jawed with pleasure

gets so embarrassed when he cums as soon as he’s in you too

but you best believe as soon as he’s free he’s flipping you over and pounding into you until all your holes are stuffed full of cum and dripping

𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍

his dom and sub tendencies constantly overlap like bro pick a struggle 

insanely big switch

like this man will be calling you the most vile shit one minute then cooing softly down at you the next, calling you his pretty girl as if his thick cock wasn’t drilling into you

however he’s extremely dominant when he wants to be

make this man the slightest bit jealous and you’re getting the roughest, nastiest dicking down of your life

make an offhand comment about how much you like watching jisung on stage and he’s dragging you to the nearest dressing room, bending you over some random surface and fucking into you with next to no prep

“you like watching jisung huh? when i’m done with you, you won’t be able to look at anyone but me you slut.”

will fuck you with his tongue and fingers until you can’t take it anymore, kiss swollen lips whining for him to relent yet your hips continuing to grind against his face - and as soon as you finally coat his face slick with your juices and slump against him he’s still pulling your hips towards his mouth, claiming you can take just one more

you love how big and strong your man is and he’ll definitely use that to his advantage 

presses you up against the wall and wraps your legs around his waist, buff arms holding you by the thighs while fucking his veiny cock past your folds

“god you’re so pretty, gonna let me wreck this little pussy, huh baby?” LIKE YES SIR

loves the way you gush around him when he talks to you like that, holding your wrists above your head in a tight grip - watching you struggle agains his hold is so funny to him, he can be so mean :(

loves the sight of you eating his cum idc

and when he cums he cums hard

he’ll literally be wrapped around your finger the moment you lick him clean off his mess, watching the way your pink tongue laps up his softening cock

sometimes after he’s filled your cunt to the brim with his load he’ll slip his soft dick out of your pussy, dipping his fingers past your bud - getting a kick out of the tired gasp that leaves you when he does - thighs itching to close shut before he’s bringing his hand up to your mouth, no words needing to be said before your wrapping your lips around the digits, sucking greedily on your mixed juices

bro nearly cums again just from the sight alone

s w e a r s he’ll treat you so good if you give him just one more orgasm

and how can you deny him when he asks all puppy eyed 🥺

can be extremely needy when he hasn’t seen you in awhile

and will literally do anything you ask 

especially likes when you grab his ass when he fucks you, trying to press him as close as possible to feel every dip and vein of his thick cock as he moans and groans about how good you feel around him

can also get a little teary eyes when you edge him, but he loves it really!!

something about reducing this hunk of a man to nothing but a whimpering, desperate mess makes him so much more fuckable

doesn’t even know what he’s saying half the time

constantly praises you

“fuck your pussy feels so good, could die like this and i’ll be happy.”

“you’re so pretty anent you baby? my pretty girl gonna give me one more orgasm? please, for me?”

bro thanks you when he cums

lowkey you have him wrapped around your finger and he’s not one bit ashamed

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍

the biggest switch™️

soso degrading with you

but he’s just so pretty while doing it you can’t even find it in yourself to be mad

loves when you dress up in cute little frilly panties just for him to completely ruin them the second he gets his hands on you

and best believe this man loves getting nasty with it - covers you in spit, cum, scratches, everything..

man leaves his mark fr

and don’t ever try to tell him to cut it out cause he’ll just get 10x freakier with it just to spite you

loves getting all messy while eating you out

doesn’t care how much you whine or cry, he’s not stopping until the bed is slick with your cum and hole is properly prepped for his fat cock

king of overstimulation 

makes sure you earn every last orgasm too, if he doesn’t feel you’re being grateful enough he’ll leave you hanging on the edge of cumming again and again

and will literally laugh at you when tears paint your lash lime

can’t resist pulling out his camera and snapping a few pictures of you in this state

best believe that thing is filled to the brim of you covered in cum, playing with his cock, taking backshots - EVERYTHING!!

no matter where you are this man is ready to fuck the brat out of you at any given moment

give him lip while out drinking with friends? he’s dragging you to his care to fuck you in the backseat

doesn’t care if its broad daylight either, silences your protests with a rough kiss before pushing his member into you - fingers playing with your nub as he sets a brutal pace

your tits and thighs will be covered in teeth marks

and he just loves the embarrassed pout that takes over your face when you have to shamefully walk back into the bar

your little skirt doing nothing to hide the bruises he left

just knowing your pussy was sticky and used with his cum is enough for him to be hard the rest of the night

something about everyone around you knowing he just fucked the last coherent thought out of you makes him wild

calls you a ‘cock hungry bitch’ and loves slapping your face with the tip of his dick when you’re on your knees begging for it

istg there’s no chill with this man

every holes a goal with him and you best believe each one of them will be abused and stuffed full by the time he’s done with you

give you a lil kiss on the forehead when he’s done though and tells you how good you were for him :(

whenever you try to dominant him he’ll become so bratty and mean 

but won’t admit how much he enjoys you pinning his hands to the bed and fucking yourself on his cock like he’s nothing more than a walking, breathing rose toy

as soon as you show the slightest bit of slowing down though he’s back on you in an instant

cock nudging its way into your sensitive walls, mocking words being groaned into the crook of your neck as you close in around him  

“hmm, thought you could control me? gonna need to fuck that brat out of you.”

kiwi!hyunjin would be so mean lord

𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆

sub sub sub

the subbiest boy idc

he just wants to be good for you :( 

will literally do anything you ask as long as the end results in him painting your pretty pussy in his hot cum

whines and whimpers and slutty groans galore

doesn’t sftu

he’s just so pussy whipped

tease this boy in public and he becomes your bitch istg

just the risk alone is enough for his cock to feel heavy against his thigh

and your teasing promises of being able to feel you hot cunt wrapped around him later as long as he continues being a good little pup definitely isn’t helping

so proud of himself for not busting a nut right then and there 

drags you to the nearest bathroom and will b e g you to suck him off and he’ll do anything your ask of him 

“just this once before i go on stage please baby, i swear i’ll be so good for you.”

bro cannot be quiet to save his life, breathy whines echoing through the door without shame as he cums down your throat

doesn’t even care no one can meet his eyes after you both leave, he’s so head empty after you swallow his load, promising he can fuck you however he likes later if just be’s a little more patient and that’s all he can think about 

best believe he’ll be on his best behaviour 

you love watching him try to cover his erection all day, knowing he’ll fuck you like a rabbit as soon as he has you alone

definitely the type to have had cum in his pants from your teasing before

he just gets so excited 

and just the thought of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock alone makes him so flustered :(

gets off on getting you off truly

its pathetic really

there’s something so pitiful about watching him rut and fuck his cock against the mattress as he snuggles his head between those plush thighs of yours

such a giving sub - moans and groans and spits so messily against your heat just from the taste alone, his tip all red and needy and just begging to slip into your core but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t listen to you

is so patent too and completely loses all his cool when you finally sink down on him

whimpers all prettily when you call him your good boy

loves when you degrade him

“god, who knew such a pathetic mess could have such a perfect cock.”

“at least you’re good for something.”

cums within 10 seconds of being inside of you when you talk to him like this

the type to ask “just the tip🥺?” when you’re too tired to have sex

and how could you possibly not let him

can never control himself though and ‘just the tip’ turns into him ‘accidentally’ falling balls deep into you

he’ll apologise while continuing to fuck your pussy like an animal

doesn’t care if you’re on your period or anything, this man wants a taste of you at any given moment

really into cum eating

lowers his head down between your legs as soon as he slips out, eyes blown wide and fucked out

desperate just to get more of you

sucks needfully on your folds, eyes rolling into the back of his head and groaning deeply when the taste of your mixed juices seep out of your hole and onto his tongue 

loves when you stroke his cheek while riding him

telling him how pretty he is and how much you love him

bro is just so whipped

swears his main purpose in life is making sure your pussy is filled and being your sweet boy

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗

another switch but the complete opposite of hyunjin

big into praise and telling you how good you’re being for him

bro only has one mode and its gentle

worships your body in ways you didn’t even know possible

no inch of skin will be left untouched when this mans lips are on you

calls you pretty pet names like ‘sunshine’ and ‘angel’ while he’s fucking you all soft

no matter how hard he tries he can’t find the will in himself to go rough on you

and every time he tries it’ll literally last like 30 seconds before he’s slipped back into his soft dom role, fucking into you slowly while fond praises fall from his lips - stroking comforting circles on your thigh, keeping your trembling legs propped up on either side of him

loves being as close as possible to you, chest pressed against your own and lips attached to the crook of your neck if they’re not busy moaning against your own

can’t stop commenting on how pretty you are

super soft with you

however 

he’s so

pathetic as a sub

gets all blubbery and wet eyed when you don’t give him what he wants

just begging you to finally let him slip into your heat when you’re rubbing your pantie clad pussy against his naked cock

and he’s so needy and leaking precum onto the fabric, please just have a bit of mercy on this angel!!

tries his best to be patient when you tell him you’ll give him what he wants as long as he lets you have your fun, but this boy is just so desperate and tunnel visioned on your cunt

wanting nothing more than to nudge your panties aside and finally fuck up into you

can quite literally only think with his dick and will constantly rut his hips up to rub the tip of his swollen cock against your clothed clit

apologises falling from his lips in a sob when you scold him for being such a brat 

he just wants to be your good boy :(

he spoils you so much during sex

eats you out for hours on end, not even caring about his member straining against his stomach

will literally let you ride his face until it’s slick with your cum, and as soon as you try to lift yourself off he’s wrapping his hands around your thighs and pulling you back down

eats you out like its his last meal, deep groans vibrating against your lower lips and tongue and nose nudging against you as he leaves fat swipes against your pussy folds

if you reach down and start playing with his dick while riding his face he’ll have to restrain everything in himself not to bust right away

will blue ball himself as long as he knows you’re properly satisfied 

he’s just such an angel

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍

such a mean dom

will play with you until you’re reduced to nothing but a teary, fucked out mess

likes watching you get yourself off

and will degrade you the whole time - teasing you with vile words as he watches your fingers fuck into your sloppy cunt

“bet you wish it was my cock filling you up huh? those little fingers aren’t enough to satisfy a cock hungry slut like you, right honey?”

and he can only chuckle lowly when you simply whine in response, eyes glued to the way he was fisting his cock on the armchair in the corner of your room

loves that he’s able to turn you into a twitching, withering whore with his words alone

wants nothing more than to fill you up but he’ll hold out for awhile before giving in, wanting you as desperate as possible for his dick before he finally gives it to you

and god seeing you splayed out, back arched and legs spread ready for his fat cock to split you open is enough to get him off

rips your hand away and f i n a l l y pushes himself past your sensitive nub - the gasp falling from your lip from the slight sting making him harden inside you

and he loves the tears that threaten to spill onto your cheeks, your fingers having done next to nothing to prep you for how thick and heavy his dick feels fitting snugly against your pussy walls

and he gives you no time to adjust either, pulling out just to slam right back in, the tightness and clenching of your cunt around him making him groan into the hot kiss he was planting on you

loves when you ride him too

but you’ll have 0% control best believe

he’ll literally fuck up into you like you were nothing but a fleshlight

and you’re ready for him every time, walls gushing in around him, milking him dry for all he’s got 

likes controlling how and when you’re gonna cum

and absolutely loves pulling as many orgasms as he can out of you before finally sinking his dick into you

especially likes dry humping, seeing you rut down against him like a bitch in heat, cunt melding against his clothes cock making your eyes roll in the back of your head 

nearly fills your womb with his cum at the sight

his hand always finds its way around your neck during sex

pushing down on your airways while drilling his cock balls deep into your cunt, eating up all the little gasps and chokes for air you let out while leaning into his chest - pussy clenching incredibly snug around him he swears he’s seeing stars

makes you clean up your mess every time, shoving his fingers past your lips and feeding you the mix of both your liquids

loves the way your greedily suck on them

makes him want to replace them with his cock again

will spit in your mouth if your misbehave 

and has no qualms leaving a swift slap against your ass if you decide to act bratty

the closest you’ll get to domming this man is if he hasn’t seen you in weeks cause of tour and he’s blue balled tf

maybe, just maybe, he’ll beg a bit 

“c’mon baby, haven’t you missed me? lemme see your pretty pussy.”

will go soft on you and worship your cunt, biting and sucking on your folds

but as soon as he sinks into you he’s falling back to his mean dom role 

loves when you fight back

“you little bitch, i’d be nice if i were you. wouldn’t wanna end up with no nice dick filling you up hmm?”

need him so bad oof

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍

extremely neutral

bro just wants to get his dick wet tbh

has no time for any sub/dom dynamics, he’s just down to fuck

likes when you tell him how good he is though

every whine and whimper of his name falling from your lips, crying about how good he feels stuffing you full only spurs him on to fuck you harder - dick prodding and pressing against all the sensitive parts of your pussy walls

might let you tie his hands together if you’re good

but becomes so desperate and whiney, hands itching out to touch you as you grind down on his thigh - the heat of your pussy searing his skin 

bro will literally rip out of those binds

flips you over and goes to town on your cunt

he’ll have you ruined when he’s done

he has such a high sex drive so whenever he goes away for months on end of tour he’ll still be whipped for that pussy

will get off solely on phone sex

loves the little gasps that slip past your lips when he tells you where to touch, imagining the hand he has wrapped around his straining dick was yours instead

“that’s it baby, curl your finger just a little more - just imagine it’s me instead.”

and your little choked moans you let out when you’re about to cum is enough for him to spill into his hand - wishing you and your hot little tongue was here to clean up his mess

always promises you how good he’s gonna fuck you when he gets home

and god that first fuck when he finally gets back!!

he’s so soft with you

fucking you over and over until you’re limp and sticky skinned in his arms, letting him drag his heavy cock against your snug walls

extremely giving, will eat you out and finger your cunt until you’re begging him to stop - your little nub twitching and raw from his stimulation

loves no matter how much he pushes you, you’re still eager for more

no matter how many hours he teases you, how many loads he spills into you you’re still ready and waiting for him to give you more

he expects you to return the favour though

likes to watch you take your time while playing his dick, hands fondling his heavy balls as your tongue lapped at his tip, sucking and kissing the swollen head

cradles your face as you lax your jaw around him, loving the way you look at him so fondly with your mouth stuffed full of cock

cums as soon as he feels you grinding down against his foot, pussy clenching around nothing and practically begging to get fucked

call him a horned out teenager but he l o v e s making out

his lips will be on yours at all time

hot, open-mouthed kisses and tongue exploring your mouth as he fondles your tits, cock abusing in and out of your little hole

very much boyfriend material even during sex

honestly he’s just happy to be there

© 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐬 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[thejujvtsupost]

It’s Always Been You

🍎F!reader, pet names: (pip/squeak, my girl, sweetheart,) suggestive but not smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, brief miscommunication and lots of groveling but it works out.🍎

Notes: I struggle with editing. This is totally separate from canon bc I’m heartbroken. It’s also my first lads fic, I’ll ALWAYS be a Sylus girlie but Caleb broke my brain for a minute 😭

Caleb joining the DAA wasn’t the problem at hand…No, it was the fact that you were going to be separated. Spending his last night before he leaves wrapped around each other like you always did when things were tough was the best comfort you could get.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, do you really have to go?” This was going to be the longest you’ve ever been apart since you were kids, and even worse, he wasn’t allowed to have his phone.

This wasn’t any easier on him but he couldn’t just back out. “I’ll be home before you know it, don’t worry too much.” Caleb brushed the hair from your eyes and held you closer, “plus, you get to have six months free of my constant nagging.”

That was absolutely the wrong thing to say, the tears you were holding back finally fell. Your hands that were originally wrapped around his waist were now at his chest, between your bodies and fisted tightly in his shirt. “But I love you and your nagging!” You inhaled like you were suffocating. Perhaps you were, under the weight of his impending absence.

“Shh I know, I love you and being a pain in your ass.” That earned him a wet chuckle. “I swear, as soon as I’m home I’ll fulfill my promise and I won’t leave your side. You’ll never have to worry again, about anything.” A soft kiss to your temple solidified his vow.

It took you a few long moments before you were able to get in a proper breath and process what he said. “You made a promise?”

“Don’t remember? Hm that won’t do. Think back to when you were 18, and that boy you had a crush on rejected you and broke your heart.”

“I’d prefer not to remember that, actually.”

“But remember after? When you still hadn’t come home by dinner and I found you alone at the park?” Large hands ran down the length of your back to help soothe you while he spoke.

You’re still lost but it’s coming back to you. Confessing to your crush in the park was supposed to be perfect— except he not only rejected you, but he made fun of you. You could respect rejection, but the way he humiliated you and made a scene wasn’t something you wanted to think about. “That day was awful.”

“You were so upset. I wanted to beat him to a pulp but you didn’t want to be alone. Remember what I told you? The pinky promise we made? It’s only been four years you know, I’d hope your memory isn’t that bad yet.”

The moment flooded you then with a gasp, ‘You’ll never be alone as long as I live sweetheart, and when it’s time, when I finally graduate and become a pilot, I swear I’ll marry you myself to prove it.’ And at the time it made you giggle, because surely he was just joking to cheer you up, right? “You meant it?”

Caleb chuckled and lifted your chin to look at you directly, “of course I did, it’s always been you and me. Don’t you know that?”

A fresh wave of tears formed as you surged forward to meet his lips with yours- and stopped out of embarrassment before you could make contact. “Sorry, I didn’t- I think I’m just being emotional—”

But the space between you closed once again and before you could overthink it, Caleb was kissing you the way he’s wanted to for years. His lips were all consuming and tender. His palm cupped your face like it was glass and you couldn’t resist running your fingers through his hair. Kissing Caleb felt like home, like everything was right.

He tried to break away to bring you both air but you refused to let him, instead pulling him closer and closer until he was on top of you, spreading your legs to accommodate his size. “Slow- slow down, you still need oxygen.” You shook when he started dragging his kisses down your throat, letting out soft moans when gentle sucks were left behind.

“C-Caleb…”

He pulled back and grew tense as if he was afraid he scared you away, “what’s wrong, you tired?” He was trying to give you an out if you wanted it.

You were certain your cheeks were flushed, you shook your head. “I want… more…”

Caleb groaned and buried his face in your neck “you’re killing me, Pip.”

Had you said something wrong? “Sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… I’ll just-” you loosened your arms from around him, thinking you somehow embarrassed yourself yet again.

He stopped you. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re killing me because you have no idea how badly I want you; how long I’ve wanted you.”

“Really?” Having someone like Caleb love you was the best feeling, but him being attracted to you left you wanting him even more.

Deciding to just show you, he ground his hips into yours. And god, it felt good against you. Just that little bit of contact felt better than anything you ever achieved on your own. “You’re-” hard went unsaid. He grunted when you spread your legs wider for him. “Yeah, I am. And if you want me, then you have me. But you can’t take it back, so if you’re not ready for that commitment…”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“This really isn’t the time for that—”

“Shut up, it’s important.” He sighed and let you continue. Your arms dropped from his neck to hold his face in your hands, brushing the stray hairs from his face. “That guy I had a crush on? I only liked him so much because he reminded me of you. So I’m yours, too. If you want me, then you can take me.”

Words were lost on him so actions took hold, “are you sure?” His kisses resumed their path after meeting your lips, the room grew hotter with each new brush against your skin.

“I trust you, Caleb,” you had no idea your neck was so sensitive, your gasps talking for you. “but I should let you know I’ve never done this before.”

“I’d kill anyone who ever touched you if you had”

“Isn’t that hypocritical? Should I hunt down your past lovers?” You worked his shirt over his head, the dog tag necklace you gave him mere hours ago dangled in front of your face.

He chuckled and discarded your top, your sleep shorts were next. “It’s funny how you think I’d ever want someone that isn’t you.” His revelation hit you full force: he loves you so deeply, there’s truly no doubt to have. “I’d never do this with anyone else.”

Two things happened that night: your bond was solidified, and unbeknownst to you, a life was created

The goodbye was brutal the next day, already missing him terribly before night fell again.

You managed to fall into a routine, though. You would go to work, occasionally spend time with friends— Tara spent the night with you at least once a week to keep your mind off of things; and the days she didn’t you laid in bed desperately wishing he would be by your side.

Your routine was solid, until a month into your separation when you were sick almost every single day. You were fed up by the time a week passed and the day after that you made your way to visit Zayne- who congratulated you because in his words, ‘he and his wife were expecting as well, perhaps they’ll be friends, too.’ Finding out you were pregnant without Caleb with you was difficult, there wasn’t a way to reach him and share the news.

But you weren’t alone anymore. You spent the time you felt lonely talking to your baby now, who definitely couldn’t hear you yet but that didn’t matter. You were kept company with a perfect blend of you and your Caleb.

According to the official statement released last week Caleb would be home any time today, any minute, any second.

The anticipation left butterflies in your tummy, your baby moving with your nerves. It didn’t occur to you that he might not be happy to be a father, that you might’ve been presumptuous that he’d be ready to care for another life so soon.

And when the door flew open, as much as you wanted to jump into his arms (carefully, of course,) you held your breath and waited for him to notice. And of course, because he was your Caleb, it was right away. His happiness and relief fell away to shock and— was that anger? You didn’t expect anger…

“Welcome home, I—”

“Who else has been here?”

“What? I mean Tara has been keeping me company a few times a week but that’s it.”

“What man has been in our home, pipsqueak.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, just a demand. He’s never been so terse with you…

His tone made you anxious, “No one, other than Zayne and his wife for dinner occasionally— Caleb what are you talking about?”

Caleb dropped his bag on the floor with a thud, still not moving from his spot. “I’m talking about the fact that I came home after six months and you didn’t seem to miss me at all, nothing like the way I missed you. How else would you be pregnant? So who is he? Someone from the Hunters Association?”

Oh… he thought… “Oh my god how could you think- I’d never cheat on you Caleb— EVER how could you even think—”

“Well, I certainly couldn’t have knocked you up in the time I’ve been away.”

A knife cut through you at his words, the accusation, the betrayal of thinking you’d ever be with anyone else. And how vulgar it was… Did your first time mean so little? Was it something he just wanted to get out of the way before he left? A sob escaped you, tears spilled over. “You’re an asshole, Caleb.”

His eyes went wide, “I’m the asshole here?”

“Yes! You’re a fucking asshole! I expected you to be shocked but accusing me of cheating on you? Thinking that night was nothing? That’s low. I can’t believe you!”

“That night means everything to me!”

“Ask me how far along I am! Go on, fucking ask!”

That stopped him short, “you mean?”

“SIX MONTHS!” Standing there while he dropped to his knees was barely satisfying. “God I can’t stand you right now! You must’ve lost your damn mind and all your common sense!”

His silence was angering you further, stomping off to the kitchen for a drink of water and trying to calm down was a better use of your time; crying from this much stress wasn’t good for you.

Once he gathered himself he followed you, “Sweetheart… you’re telling me that night…”

“Finally used your brain, did you?”

“I’m so, god I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” His hand reached out to bring you in for a hug but you denied him.

“Do. Not. Touch me.” His audacity made you seethe. No way were you going to give in so easily no matter how much you desired to be in his embrace and reassured.

“Sweetheart—”

“You’re sleeping on the couch. We can decide what to do later.”

His emotions began to overflow, the guilt crushing him; the ring in his pocket practically burning into his flesh. “Decide what?”

“Decide if I should even let you stay.” Your throat felt tight but you continued to hold your sobs back. “Your dinner is in the oven by the way, it’s your favorite so I suggest you don’t let it burn.”

A few hours rolled around before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore hearing your sniffles. You hadn’t eaten dinner, who knows if you had any water, and no matter how (rightfully) mad you were, you still needed to eat.

Grabbing a few of your favorite snacks with a glass of juice instead of the untouched dinner he put in the fridge was his safest option, unsure if seeing the meal would upset you further.

“Pip squeak? I know you’re awake.” Crouching by your side of the bed and setting the snacks on the nightstand, “please talk to me?”

“Go away.”

“You know I can’t do that, you have to eat something.”

You poked your head from the blanket, “oh so you care now that you know it’s yours?”

The jab was deserved but it still earned a wince. “I’d still care even if they weren’t.”

“How noble of you. Sticking around to raise a kid that’s not yours before I even have a ring.”

“Who said I didn’t have a ring?” This time you accepted the comfort of his hand brushing your hair behind your ear and gently cupping your cheek.

Curiosity was a bitch, but you weren’t ready to forgive him yet. “You were really mean.”

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. So sorry. I can’t imagine you being with anyone else but I didn’t expect to come home to a family either— and I’m beyond happy to be a dad. It’s not an excuse though, never okay to talk to you like that.”

A few leftover sniffles came before he pulled a tissue from the box on your nightstand, opting to dry your tears himself. “Blow,” He said, holding the tissue to help you blow your nose; then offering you the straw of the juice so you could hydrate.

“I missed you so much, I thought you’d still be happy to see me.”

“I’m over the moon, actually. But I hurt my girl, gotta make things right. Think you can forgive me? I’ll earn it forever.”

“Caleb if you ever, I mean ever, speak to me like that again I won’t hesitate to let you talk to the front door. You’ll be out.”

“I’ll cut my tongue out myself.”

“So dramatic as always.” You rolled your eyes, “you mentioned a ring?”

A smile lifted the corner of his mouth, “there’s my girl. You sure you still want it? Or should I earn it first?” He dug into his pants pocket to show you anyway.

“It wouldn’t hurt your efforts.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle fully before presenting the velvet box to you, “I’m pretty close to the ground but if you sit up for me I’ll get on one knee.”

Sitting up to stretch was good for your back anyway, “I think I’ve waited long enough.”

The velvet box opened and your jaw dropped, “picked it out in Skyhaven. Gideon and I helped the elderly owner of a small shop with some boxes he was struggling with in front of his door. Knew it was perfect right away, gorgeous and one of a kind like you.”

“You’re ridiculous, but I love it.” He slid it on your finger and sealed it with a kiss, and you fell into his arms like you’ve wanted to for the last six months.

Pulling away after many minutes of hugs, ‘I love you’s’ and kisses wasn’t welcomed by you. “Now, how ‘bout some dinner? I don’t think snacks are enough, they were backup. Gotta keep you healthy.”

“Did you like it?”

You were pulled to your feet and carried out of the room. “Didn’t eat without you, sweetheart. Having dinner without you and the baby felt empty.”

“Good. You can reheat it then.” You waited for the perfect moment to drop your bombshell, which happened to be when he was carrying a full glass pitcher of water for the table. “We’re having a daughter, by the way.”

The pitcher fell so fast his evol barely managed to catch it before glass hit the ground. It left you feeling smug.

You couldn’t help but cackle at his shocked spluttering, “A WHAT?”

I’m so flattered, I’ve never had so many people interested or had a taglist this long: @pixelcafe-network @kentochronicles @sashisuslover @lunia-likes-pomegranet @elli4ever @mysssticc @kaemaybae @kamisatoaiko @midiplier @jamseashell @llamabois @boba14 @crimsonspring @angrychinchillanoises @ali-shiii @kazbae95 @ifistoptherain @c-I-stinnett @nephelesthoughts @etherealzi @jjoppees @keithkoganeirl

All divider credits to me @thecutestgrotto

[aimfor-theheart]

mafia au with bodyguard vi i am gnawing on the bars of my enclosure

anon i’m trying to distract myself on this flight so here take this little drabble bc i can’t get bodyguard!vi out of my mind 😖

***

You laze at your vanity, languid like a cat; taking your time to get ready. Your hair is half undone. You’re still in your sheer, dark tights and bra—some jewelry hanging from your bare skin, some still scattered on the vanity in front of you. Your martini glass gleams alongside the pearls in the lowlight of your bedroom.

You’re powdering your face when someone knocks.

“Come in,” You say, despite your state of undress.

When Vi enters, you catch her eyes in the reflection of your vanity mirror.

She curses a little, averting her gaze. You smile, slow and mischievous.

“You know, usually when people are undressed, they don’t tell someone to stroll into their bedroom.” Vi remarks.

“Oh, but I knew it was you.” You respond innocently.

She huffs a bit of a laugh. You see a muscle feather in her jaw. She’s still looking away from you, but there’s something in her face—it lurks around the edges of her expression, like she’s trying to keep it hidden.

(Hunger looks good on her.)

“I’m your bodyguard, princess. I should be standing outside your door while you get ready like this.” She says and you’ve found that she likes to tell you about what she should do with you. She likes to tell you what’s proper, as you lure her into something improper.

“Oh, relax. Have a drink, would you?” You retort, lifting your martini glass to her in the mirror as if to demonstrate. You take a sip, lemon twist and flowery gin hit your tongue in a cool burst. “I wanted company while I finish getting ready.”

She lets go of a hard sigh. “You’re trying to get me killed. Your father would have my head.”

“Good thing he’s not around tonight, then.” You hum, finally returning to your preening and powdering.

“Would you at least put on some clothes for me?” Vi asks the ceiling and really it’s almost—funny, how chivalrous she’s trying to be. Gentlemanly. She still hasn’t looked your way.

Well, that won’t do.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy.” You coo, finally turning from the mirror to face her. “Not with your reputation…”

She barks out a laugh.

“I’m being paid to protect you.” Vi reiterates and you think, at this point, she’s reminding herself more than you.

“So you can’t keep me company while I get ready?” You ask sweetly.

Her eyes cut to you before she can stop herself, a flash of blue lighting. When she takes you in, it’s with a hitched breath. Her eyes skip down the curves of your body. She looks away again.

“You’re not sly, sweetheart. I know your game.” Vi says, dragging a hand through her hair, tousling it further.

You let go of an overdramatic sigh, “Fine, fine. I’ll dress.”

And with that, you saunter to your wardrobe, where the slinky little dress you’ll be wearing tonight hangs. It’s midnight purple, shimmering like dark water at night. You pull it from the hanger and carefully slip it on. But in the back, it hangs open, zipper undone.

Your eyes cut to Vi—she’s still turned away and you trace the broad lines of her back. The sliver of her tattoo that starts at the nape of her neck.

“Vi,” You say her name so lightly, “will you help me?”

When she looks at you, it’s of the open back of your dress, all your bare skin and the silk. The lacy back of your bra—the shadow of your matching panties beneath the tights. You peek over your shoulder demurely.

Vi swallows hard.

But still, she approaches. Her footsteps are slow, heavy. And then she’s behind you and you can almost feel her, feel her warmth. You stay perfectly still for her—waiting, breath held—

The touch of her fingers against the bare skin of your lower back makes your lashes flutter. She takes the zipper in hand. With her other hand, she smoothes the fabric of the dress, palm open against the curve of your waist.

Slowly, she pulls the zipper up along your spine.

When she’s done, she settles that hand on your waist, too. Holds you.

“You’re such trouble.” She murmurs, squeezes a little into the soft give of your hips.

“I just needed your help.” You say, bedroom soft.

This little, frustrated groan works its way out of her throat. Your stomach flips, thinking of what it might sound against your throat, or inner thighs. She hangs her head and for a moment, you think she might close the rest of the distance, might let her lips fall to the nape of your neck, or press her chest all against your back—

Instead, she’s gone. Hands off you, held up like she’s trying to show she’s innocent, as she takes a few steps away from you.

She sinks into one of your loveseats—the one that faces the vanity.

“Finish getting ready, princess.”

And for once, you listen to her. You finish pinning your hair. You finish your makeup and add your jewelry. You drink the rest of your martini, the warmth of alcohol hitting you sweet and hot, somewhere in your chest.

When you’re finished, you nudge your stocking clad foot in her direction.

She knows, instantly and moves to you. She eases to one knee, and takes one of your heels in hand. She pulls your foot into her lap, then she deftly eases the shoe onto your foot. She buckles the strap around your ankle dutifully. She does the other one with the same, methodical devotion.

She looks up at you from her knees, your ankle still held in her rough palm. “Happy?” She asks.

“Endlessly.” Your smile is a cat’s curve, a crescent moon.

“You’re so spoiled.” Vi says, adjusting the strap of your heel, so it sits perfectly.

“I like to be taken care of, that’s all.” You say primly.

She snorts at that, and squeezes your ankle in her strong hand. “Princess?” She says, eyes dark and imploring, looking up at you—

It’s such a good look on her. Like this, on her knees.

“Hm?”

She stands slowly, now towering over you. You slowly tip your head back to look up at her. And she even takes your chin in hand, makes you hold her eyes.

“Don’t run off tonight.” She warns.

Your smile turns sharp—eyes dancing with mischief.

“But you always did love a good chase.”

(Hunger looks good on her.)

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

First Meetings – Headcannon Edition

Pairing: Task Force 141 x Civilian!Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff! Some protective behavior, mild flirting

Author's Note: I love the idea of the 141 boys meeting a partner outside of their usual military world. I just love knowing the boys have someone to come home to but here is how they meet you. Let me know if you’d like any of these expanded!

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

John "Soap" MacTavish

- You meet Soap while he’s on leave, enjoying a quiet drink in a cozy Scottish pub. It’s one of those places where the locals know each other, and you stick out like a sore thumb.

- He notices you sitting alone and, never one to leave someone out, walks right over with a cheeky grin.

- “New in town, are ya? Can’t be sittin’ all by yourself, that’s just a crime.” He slides into the seat across from you without waiting for permission, his energy contagious.

- What starts as small talk turns into a lively conversation filled with his playful teasing and exaggerated stories (you’re sure he’s embellishing, but it’s entertaining).

- By the end of the night, you’ve both laughed more than you have in weeks, and he’s already trying to get you to meet up again.

- “Tell ya what, next round’s on me—tomorrow night?” He winks, clearly hoping you’ll say yes.

---

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

- You meet Gaz in the most embarrassing way possible—by tripping right in front of him. You weren’t paying attention, too distracted by your phone or the book in your hands, and next thing you know, you’re falling forward.

- He catches you effortlessly, his grip firm but gentle. “Easy there, love. You alright?” His voice is warm with just a hint of amusement.

- You’re flustered, mumbling something about not watching where you were going, but he just grins.

- “Happens to the best of us,” he reassures you, then playfully adds, “But I think that’s the first time someone’s literally fallen for me.”

- If you meet at a coffee shop instead, he ends up sitting near you, noticing how intently you’re reading. Eventually, curiosity gets the best of him, and he strikes up a conversation.

- “Good book? You looked like you were in another world for a second.” His easygoing nature makes it impossible not to chat with him.

---

Simon "Ghost" Riley

- Ghost isn’t the type to seek out company, but somehow, you end up sitting across from him at a quiet café.

- You didn’t realize the table was occupied when you put your drink down, and by the time you do, you’re already halfway through apologizing.

- “Didn’t see you there. I can move—”

- “It’s fine,” he interrupts, barely sparing you a glance as he stirs his tea.

- Most people would take that as a sign to leave, but something about him intrigues you. Instead, you stay, making occasional comments about the book you’re reading or the pastries they serve here.

- At first, he doesn’t respond much—just nods or hums in acknowledgment. But eventually, after a particularly amusing remark, you catch the slight twitch of his lips.

- “You talk a lot,” he finally mutters, but there’s no annoyance in his tone—just quiet amusement.

- It takes a few more chance encounters before he actually starts engaging in conversation. But once he does, you realize he’s a lot more interesting than he lets on.

---

John Price

- You meet Price when he steps in to help you out of a tough situation. Maybe some guy at a bar won’t take no for an answer, or someone is giving you a hard time at a store.

- Either way, Price intervenes with that calm, authoritative voice that leaves no room for argument.

- “That’s enough, mate. Walk away.” The guy doesn’t even hesitate before backing off.

- You’re left staring at your unexpected savior—a ruggedly handsome man with a soft smile but sharp eyes.

- “You alright, love?” His voice is gentler now, checking to make sure you’re okay.

- If you meet somewhere more casual, like a bookstore, it’s because he helps you grab something from a high shelf. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but that’s a fine choice of tea,” he comments when he notices what you’re holding.

- He’s not pushy, but there’s an easy confidence about him that makes you feel safe.

- “Can I buy you a drink? As long as no one else needs rescuing tonight,” he jokes lightly.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[stollengoods]

The Longer the Wait, The Sweeter the Kisses

Requested Nam-gyu Fluff~

Warnings: Cursing, slight smut but not much (they don’t go all the way), mentions of drug use, overdose, and recovery.

Summary: Your friend Mi-na is tired of you third wheeling her and Thanos so she has him set you up on a date with his friend Nam-gyu. Surprisingly you and Nam-gyu really hit it off. So much so you invite him to your place, but what happens when you guys start making out/touching each other and you inform him that you won’t go all the way ?

P.S. This one’s a bit long… I apologize I got carried away haha

————

Thanos and Mi-na were cuddling on the couch while you were sitting in the arm chair beside them. He booped her nose with a blue colored finger nail, “You’re so cute.”

She giggled touching her forehead to his, “You’re so handsome.”

“And I so want to kill myself right now.” You murmured, scrolling through your phone.

In the background you saw Mi-na’s head turn towards you. “I told you it was just gonna be Thanos and I this weekend. You’re the one who invited yourself, remember ?”

You scrolled mindlessly on Instagram, “Yeah, but I didn’t think you guys would be like this.”

“It’s called being in a relationship.” She remarked and you snorted, “Gosh, thats what I have to look forward to ?”

“I used to think that way too until I met my soul mate.” You heard their lips smacking and immediately felt sick.

“Ewww, if I ever get like that shoot me. Please.”

Thanos chuckled and your friend giggled rolling her eyes, “When are you going to get a boyfriend y/n ? You’re old enough to drink why don’t you go to the bar and find one, you’ll get one asap.”

“Yeah… there are several reasons why I would never do that, plus I think what you’re describing is a hook up not a boyfriend.”

She huffed, “Well maybe you need a hookup, you’re like always a negative nancy.”

You looked up from your phone and glared at her for a second before looking back at your screen.

“See ! That’s what I’m talking about.” Mi-na said.

“Oh !” She put a hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder, “Baby, why don’t you set her up with one of your friends ?”

You immediately clicked your phone screen off and shoved it in your pocket, “Fuck no.”

Thanos looked over at you confused and Mi-na furrowed her eyebrows at you and tilted her head towards Thanos basically telling you your being rude.

You awkwardly laughed, “I’m sorry, that came out wrong… it’s just I’ve seen Thanos’s instagram. All him and his friends do is drugs, drink, and party. That’s not my scene, I need someone more-“

You were about to say mature but bit your tongue, “-what’s the word I’m looking for… umm- mellow I guess ?”

Thanos nodded his head in understanding, “Everyone has there preferences.” He shrugged.

“What about Nam-gyu ?” Mi-na asked Thanos with a smile on her face, “Didn’t he just make 3 months sober ?”

Thanos raised his eyebrows, “Oh yeah, I guess I do have a mellow friend.”

“He’s an ex addict ?” You asked, not very surprised since it is Thanos’s friend.

“Yup, he almost died of a heroine overdose a few months back and has been clean from drugs and drinking ever since.” He grinned, “I’m proud of him.”

“I’m sorry did you say- Heroine ??”

Thanos nodded, “Yeah, I’m surprised heroine was the one that got to him. He was on all sorts of things: cocaine, ecstasy-“

Mi-na put both her hands on his shoulders, “Alright babe, he can fill her in, you don’t have to give her his whole backstory.” She raised her eyebrows at him and you knew that look too well, she was basically telling him to stop talking. “You’ll scare her off before she even goes on the date.”

“Yeah because if there’s nothing better than an addict, it’s a recovering one.” You muttered.

She crossed her arms, “Okay, so now he’s too mellow ?”

“No.” You narrowed your eyes at her, “I would love someone who doesn’t drink or do drugs but Mi-na he’s in recovery.”

“And ?”

“And ?! What if he relapses ? I don’t want to be somebody’s mom.” You spat, crossing your arms as well.

Mi-na pulled out her phone, “I think you’ll change your mind once you see a picture of him. He’s really cute.” She glanced over at her boyfriend, “I’m saying in the sense that she would find him cute, I know her type pretty well by now.”

She tossed her phone to you, “He’s the one in the white t-shirt.”

“Oh yeah, I recognize him, he’s the one that’s always holding onto Thanos whenever Thanos posts pictures of him and his friends.”

“He’s not always holding on to me ?”

You turned the phone so they could see the screen, “Dude he’s literally hugging your arm and his head is resting on your shoulder.”

Thanos looked at the phone, “It was cold that day.”

Mi-na laughed grabbing her phone, “Anyways, he’s single, sober, and cute. He’s perfect for you y/n.”

You pursed your lips, you were pretty lonely. You had friends but they all had partners which made it hard for you to hang out unless you wanted to third wheel like you are now.

“I mean… he is kind of cute I guess.”

Mi-na shrieked, “Yay ! Thanos will send him your number.” She kissed her boyfriend on the cheek and clapped her hands in excitement, “If this works out, we could even go on double dates !”

————

You and Nam-gyu had texted back and forth for a few days now, planning to have your first date this weekend. You suggested getting coffee and Nam-gyu loved the idea saying that he knows the perfect spot and sent you the address.

Once there, you spotted him sitting down. “Hey Nam-gyu right ?”

He looked up from his phone and smiled, quickly putting it away. “Yes and you must be y/n.” He stood up and gave you a friendly hug.

You felt yourself blushing from the contact, you knew he was touchy feely with Thanos but figured it was because they were friends.

He smelled of the ocean mixed with amber and you could tell from how healthy the ends of his hair looked he recently got a haircut.

“You’re going to love this place. It has everything: coffee, teas, desserts. It’s amazing.”

When you guys got to the front, the cashier asked what you guys wanted. Nam-gyu answered it fairly quickly, not giving your eyes much time to scan the menu above you.

After the cashier entered his order she looked at you, “umm-“ You made eye contact with Nam-gyu, “What would you recommend ? I’m more of a coffee person but there’s so many options.”

“Hmm… do you like your coffee more on the bitter or sweet side ?”

“Sweet.”

He smiled, “Then I’d suggest their Carmel Macchiato. It’s sounds boring, I know, but for your first time being here I’d start with that, it’s really good.”

You nodded your head and turned your attention back to the cashier, “I’ll get a small Carmel Macchiato please.”

“Okie dokie.” She typed in your order and then smiled while reading out your total.

Nam-gyu pulled out a twenty dollar bill and told her to keep the change, “Thank you.” She said, “We’ll call your order out when it’s ready.”

You guys walked over to a table and sat down across from each other, “Thank you for buying my coffee.” You blushed.

“Oh yeah of course.”

You rubbed your hands together under the table feeling them sweat. You haven’t been on a date in a while and have never had an actual boyfriend before so this was all new to you.

“How did you and Thanos meet ?” You asked, trying to ease your nerves by getting him to talk.

“I used to work at this club downtown and the owner of the club would always let him come in for free because it would attract more people to his club. After a while of being there, Thanos and I got familiar with each other and one day he asked me if I knew anybody who sold drugs. I hooked him up with one of my buddies and we started doing them together, the rest is history.”

You weren’t expecting him to be such an open book but felt yourself slowly becoming more comfortable around him, he seemed like a chill guy.

“One Americano and one Carmel Macchiato.”

“That’s us.” Nam-gyu said, he went over to the counter and grabbed your coffees. When he came back he handed you your drink and you thanked him.

“You wanna go take a walk ?” He asked.

“Sure.” You grinned, following him outside.

You actually preferred this, walking side by side instead of sitting down and looking at each other face to face. It took a lot of the pressure off and you found yourself talking a lot more than you thought you would.

He told you about his battle with addiction and how it nearly killed him. You felt bad for judging him so harshly when Thanos and Mi-na told you about it.

Getting his side of the story made you realize that he wasn’t just a a sleazy guy who drank and did drugs to have fun, he had past trauma that he was dealing with. Now that he’s sober, he told you he’s found better ways to cope like going to therapy and exercising.

He finished his drink first, throwing it away and a few minutes later you finished yours, throwing it in a trash bin as well.

You only knew him for about 30 minutes but already felt safe with him, like he was a long time friend.

“So…” you stopped walking and finally faced him making eye contact, “What now ?” You asked with a smile.

He returned the smile, “I really enjoyed our date and would like to continue it but it’s up to you. We can hang out another time if you’re busy.”

It was weird, you felt special for the first time in a while and that excited you. You didn’t want this date to end anytime soon either.

You bit your lip, “I had fun too.” You said, rocking back and forth a bit. “Would it be odd of me to ask you to hang out at my place ?”

“No, not at all.”

————

When you got to your place, Nam-gyu removed his jacket and you told him he could hang it up on the coat rack. He wore a brown tank top underneath his jacket and, every now and then, you caught yourself stealing glances of his veiny arms; and at the way the material would outline his chest and abdomen.

You guys continued chatting on the couch as you guys tried to find something to watch on Netflix. You ended up settling on a comedy that neither of you have seen yet.

He clicked a button to play the movie, setting the remote down on the arm rest next to him and then threw his other arm over the couch.

A thought popped into your head of scooting over and leaning into his side, but you knew that would be kind of weird. Then again, it seems that Nam-gyu’s love language is physical contact so maybe he wouldn’t mind ?

You casually scooted yourself over and Nam-gyu’s head turned. You looked up to meet his eyes, “Is this okay ?” You asked, scooting into his side and placing a hand on his chest.

He nodded, “Yeah I don’t mind.” His hand dropped to around your shoulders as he went back to watching the movie.

You tried watching the movie as well, you really did but all you could think about was his body against yours. The heat radiating off of him made you want to snuggle into him more like a weighted blanket.

Half way through the movie, you were able to concentrate on the plot a little bit, until Nam-guy’s thumb began rubbing back and forth on your arm. It was a simple gesture and you were pretty sure he was doing it unconsciously but it made the inside of your stomach fill with butterflies.

When the movie was over, Nam-gyu looked over at you. “It was alright, I thought it was kind of funny, how about you ?”

You turned and made eye contact with for a split second before licking your lips and attaching them to his. You were surprised by your hunger for him and you could tell he was shocked as well by the way he didn’t react for a few seconds.

When he reciprocated the kiss, you positioned your body on top of his. Your knees on either side of his legs, as your hands went to his hair.

His hands made their way to your hips pulling you closer into him and you moaned. Pulling away from him, you ripped your shirt off over your head, throwing it to the floor before reattaching your mouths.

His cold fingers snaked up your back, unclipping your bra. Once done, you threw it to the floor as well. One of his hands cupped your breast and you broke the kiss leaning your head against his.

“You okay ?” He whispered.

“Yeah.” You breathed, “But…”

He removed his hand from your breast, waiting for you to finish.

You sighed, “I know I’ve only known you for less than a day and I really like you.” You watched as your hands trialed down his chest, “And don’t get me wrong I really like what we have going on right now.”

You looked him in the eyes, he was smiling listening to you. “But I’m also not the kind of person to hook up with someone after just meeting them. I want to get to know you better before we get to that point.”

His hand cupped your face, caressing it with his thumb. “I respect that. Since my sobriety I’ve made a rule for myself as well, to not hook up with anybody unless we are dating. I’ve been doing good so far but I’ll be honest if you hadn’t stopped, I don’t think I would’ve stuck to it.” He blushed biting his lip.

You giggled, “I like that rule, I think I’ll adopt that as well.”

He smirked, “Does this mean cuddling is off the table too ?”

You rolled your eyes at his silly question, “Off course not.” You smiled before wrapping your arms around his neck and sinking into him. He interlocked his hands behind you while resting his head on your shoulder.

[kunareads]

meta angel

suguru x reader

it's just suguru, he would never hurt you. but your body reacts like it doesn't know that.

masterlist

wc: 1.4k

started as a journal entry months ago kinda

content: boyfriend!suguru, hurt/comfort, angst, argument, trauma response, reader was in an abusive relationship (no specific details)

i’ve got voices in my head telling me that i won’t make it far

suguru thinks you carry things too deeply. that you let words and events settle into your chest like stones, holding onto them long after they’ve passed. he wonders if you even realize it, if the weight of them is familiar now, like something you’ve always known. he wonders if you’ll ever learn to let go.

he carries things too, but unlike you, he doesn’t hold them where people can see. he tucks them away into the spaces between his ribs. you wonder if he even realizes how much he’s drowning.

“you treat yourself like you’re disposable, suguru.” your voice cuts through the stillness, not loud, but laced with something unshakeable. “like your life is collateral.”

he draws in a slow, deep breath. “and you think you know better?” his voice is quiet, but sharp enough to cut. “you think knowing me means you get to decide what’s right for me?”

suguru doesn’t argue to win. he argues to exhaust, to chip away at resolve until the whole thing feels like a mistake. you’ve seen him do it, but you won’t give in tonight.

“i know enough.” the exasperation in your tone is building now, pressing against something deeper. “i watch you come back in pieces. you stitch yourself together with the bare minimum, just enough to survive next time. and all you’ll let me do is watch.”

he shakes his head, a harsh exhale escaping. “i don’t need saving.”

“this isn’t about saving you,” your voice wavers. not from weakness, but from something raw, something too knowing. “it’s about you acting like it wouldn’t matter if you didn’t come back.”

suguru stills. a fraction of a second, something caught between then and now. his face hardens, something so brief it could be missed, but you don’t miss it. when he speaks again, his voice is colder, more penetrating, a glacial edge slicing through the distance between you.

“i didn’t ask you to care.”

mirror singing in my face, where’d you go?

the words land like a slap, soundless but deep. you feel them settle, heavy, leaving something raw behind. he isn’t raising his voice, isn’t yelling, but that only makes it worse. it’s the control in his tone, the way the warmth drains from it, that makes something inside you go quiet.

he moves before you can process it. it’s just a shift, an unconscious attempt to put distance between you, but the way he does it places him directly between you and the door.

awareness prickles at the edges of your vision, something instinctive, old. your breath catches. you shift back, a step so small it shouldn’t matter. your fingers curl, not quite a flinch, but close. your shoulders lock. your gaze flickers past him to the door.

suguru notices the movement, but he doesn’t understand it yet. he assumes you’re backing down, that you’re retreating from the fight because it’s no longer worth the energy. his frustration simmers, pushing against the borders of restraint. “so that’s it? you’re just done now?” his voice tight, regulated, but there’s something hollow underneath it.

you don’t say anything.

“you wanted honesty,” he presses. “this is what it looks like.”

the silence between you concentrates, dense and unyielding.

you’re not just quiet. you’re tense. too tense. your breath comes too steady, too controlled, like it’s manual. your hands are curled, not in anger, but in something else.

for a moment, he doesn’t understand what just happened. the argument was sharp, cutting. but this? this feels different, off-kilter in a way he can’t place. his frustration lingers, but it’s edged now by something else, something uneasy.

something twists in his chest, cold and immediate. this isn’t right. his eyes follow yours, straight to the exit. and then it clicks.

he sees it—the way your shoulders have drawn inward, the way you’re not just stepping back, but recoiling.

throw it in the fire, ego in the fire

the realization drops into him like a stone in deep water.

it’s not about the fight anymore.

his voice softens instinctively, dropping into something warm and careful. “you’re not shutting down.”

you don’t look at him. but something changes in your expression, something unstable.

“i scared you.”

your head shakes too fast, too forcefully. “no, you didn’t—it wasn’t you.” the words rush out too quickly, like you need him to believe them.

but you still won’t meet his eyes. and that’s how he knows.

the ache is instant. deep. he steps aside immediately. not because you’re afraid of him but because you need space. and because he understands now.

you wonder if he knows how different he looks like this. how his edges dull, how he softens for a moment, just enough for you to see.

something loosens in your chest, but it doesn’t fade completely. you’re holding onto something. something not here, not now. you don’t know how to let it go.

he moves carefully, slowly enough that you can track every shift. his posture relaxes, breath leveling, voice smoothing into something softer.

“alright,” he murmurs, quiet. he doesn’t demand an explanation. he just lets the moment settle.

you move first. a hesitant step, the ghost of your fingers against his sleeve. it’s careful, tentative. the space between you hums with something delicate, like a thread pulled too tight.

it’s a risk in its own quiet way. a silent question. a test of whether he’ll pull away, whether you’ll regret reaching for him at all. your fingers hover, barely grazing the fabric, as if pressing too hard will shatter whatever this moment is turning into.

suguru waits. he watches, his breath measured, his presence persistent but unintrusive. he doesn’t reach for you. doesn’t pull you in. he lets you set the pace, his restraint saying more than words ever could. you think, for a moment, that maybe he’s just as afraid of breaking this as you are.

and when you nod, so small he could’ve missed it, he moves.

i’ve got a love for desire

the shift from conflict to comfort is soft and intentional. it unfurls slowly, like an exhale you didn’t realize you were holding, like the tentative warmth of sunlight after a storm. no sudden movements, no desperate grasping. just quiet, and the weight of understanding settling over you both.

he doesn’t say i would never hurt you. you already know that. instead, he whispers, his voice low and unwavering, “you’re safe. i got you.”

the silence stretches, gentler now, no longer thick with unspoken tension. after a long moment, he moves again, guiding you to the couch, not forcing, just easing. his fingers trace slow, familiar paths along your spine. a kiss pressed to your temple, lingering.

eventually, you speak, your voice barely a whisper.

“he used to—” you stop. the words catch, jagged and unfinished. they hover between you, raw and bleeding like an old wound reopened too suddenly. you exhale sharply, but it doesn’t steady you. the memory presses too close, settling heavily in your chest, something you can’t push back down.

suguru says nothing. he doesn’t urge you forward or try to fill the silence. he just listens, steady and patient, the way he always does when it counts.

you curl your fingers into his sleeve, anchoring yourself to the present.

“i don’t—” you try again, but the words feel too big, too tangled, too much. you shake your head, pressing your face into his shoulder instead.

he turns slightly, slow enough that you don’t even realize it at first. the space between you disappears as he tucks you closer, his hand smoothing over your back, tracing slow, familiar circles. a grounding weight, warm against you, breath calm at your temple. not asking, not demanding. just there.

and it should feel small, this moment. but it isn’t. it’s something more, something that settles in the quiet, telling you that he already knows what you can’t say.

he doesn’t say you don’t have to tell me.

he just nods, resting his chin lightly on top of your head, letting the quiet settle.

his warmth spreads through you, filling the spaces words never could.

“okay,” he murmurs, quiet and certain. not dismissive, not final. just something to hold onto, a reassurance.

you’re here. you’re safe. you don’t have to explain yourself to me.

and that’s more than enough.

[cloverapple]

do you have anymore advice? your post helped me so much pls I need more

The Restaurant Analogy For Reality Shifting

Aghhh I told myself I wasn’t going to post anything else, yet here I am XD. Hopefully this is helpful.

You already know how to shift. “Oh, but I—” nope. Nope. You already know how to shift. How do I know that? Because shifting is simply the act of becoming aware of your desired reality. And how do you become aware? By focusing, by choosing what you want to become aware of. When your focus and intention are aligned with your DR, you’re already shifting.

“But the symptoms—“

Oh to grab and politely shake you until you realize that “becoming aware of XYZ” is merely focusing on that thing, becoming aware of it. Are you laying there focusing on your DR? Congratulations, you’ve become aware of your DR.

(There’s a very popular post on here (that I can’t find rn bc I’m rushing as I type this) that states your awareness shifts first and then your senses follow. I cannot stress enough how true that is.)

When you lay down to shift, you don’t need to overcomplicate it. Just focus on your DR and allow it to come to you. Let yourself shift. Sure, allowing it might involve slipping into an altered state of consciousness, using methods, counting or affirming—if that feels natural to you in the moment. But ultimately, it comes down to self-trust. Your mind already knows how to shift. Maybe your issue is that you just need to step out of your own way and let it happen. Which in that case:

Deciding to shift is like deciding to go to a restaurant and sitting down.

Choosing your DR is like selecting a meal from the menu.

Letting your subconscious do the work is like trusting the chef in the kitchen to cook your meal.

What happens next? Inevitably, the chef brings out your meal—you become aware of your DR.

Now, what NOT to do:

You don’t march into the kitchen and grab the ingredients from the chef. You don’t argue with them about how they’re making your meal. Your chef, your mind, knows how to cook. You don’t pace back and forth from the kitchen to your table, spiraling in doubt, wallowing in self-pity, or crying to everyone in the restaurant about how you’ll never get your food and how you’re doomed to starve. You don’t leave the restaurant altogether. You sit down, relax, and trust the process.

“But what if my meal takes a year, or two, or even more?”

Well, think about it—what have you been doing during that time? Have you been running into the kitchen? Losing faith in the chef? Accusing him of not knowing how to cook? Your beliefs shape your reality. What you believe—what you truly believe—is what manifests.

This even applies to the “restaurant.” If you believe your meal will take forever, it will. If you believe the chef isn’t cooking, they won’t be. If you believe you’ll never get your meal, then you probably won’t.

But that’s the beauty of going to the restaurant. No matter how much you doubt, the meal comes eventually. Why else would you have sat down at the restaurant?

And there’s another thing: some meals may take longer, and that’s completely fine. Even if you’ve been patiently sitting here waiting for it and it’s been taking forever in your mind, that’s completely fine. Let go of this atattchment you have to time.

So what if the meal took a year to reach your table? 2 years? 3 years? 4 years? 5 years? Has all that time passed since you’re reading this? Awesome! So why are you still focused on it?

All the time you’ve spent shifting, you will get back and more once you start shifting. 2 years? You gain it back. 3 years? Back into your hand it goes. 4 years? There it is again. 5 years? You got it back.

Focus on the now; sit at the restaurant, enjoy the live music, talk to other patrons, flip through the menu and browse because maybe you want to change your meal or try an appetiser.

“Changing the meal (my DR) means it’s going to take even longer!”

Who told you that? I don’t know what kind of cooking you guys are doing IRL, but afaik, if the stove is already on and the pan is warm, searing that stake is going to be just as quick.

“Clover, but you just implied that arguing with the chef messes with your meal!”

Arguing with the chef (your subconscious) is very different from politely poking your head through the kitchen doors and informing him that you want a different meal.

“But how do I focus on my DR?”

I love this question! When you’re sitting at the table, expecting your meal, what are you doing? You’re probably thinking about your food—imagining the flavors, the texture, the sensations of eating it, the satisfaction of finally having it. That’s how you focus on your DR.

When you’re laying there doing your shifting process, think about what it feels like to be in your DR. Use your senses. Imagine the smells, the sounds, the things you’d touch, the things you’d hear. Visualize, ground yourself, and do what feels natural for you. There’s no right or wrong way to focus—just let yourself become immersed in the idea of your DR and trust it’s coming to you.

What you need to do is simple: select your meal, sit down, and know that it’s coming. I’m not even telling you to wait for it—just know that it’s already on its way. The moment you ordered, it became yours. That’s all there is to it.

[hoiststowline]

responses to “don’t come over, I look like a mess” [w/ sunstreaker, cliffjumper, ratchet, bluestreak, hound & ironhide]

_

“What? No. What did you say? That doesn’t make any sense, I’m coming over anyways,”:

• Sunstreaker is probably the biggest repeat offender on this one, and he uses it in other situations, too. he suddenly can’t comprehend and doesn’t allow you to explain yourself, though he and you full well know he understands. grumbles the whole ‘you’re breaking up!’ schtick. pretends to drive through a tunnel when he’s forty-five seconds away (where there is no tunnels) just to hang up without letting you say a peep. he won’t leave either, so you comply and come to see him, or you will be hearing his horn for the better part of the evening.

• a second guilty charge is aimed straight at Cliffjumper. somehow, there is never any time to explain and he’s in a huge hurry, and he’s only calling you as a courtesy so you’ll be outside and ready to go. If you even get a word in, mentioning weakly you look like shit or don’t feel up to seeing him, he’ll hang up. He can’t hear your lies if he literally can’t hear them or something like that. but once he pulls up and you aren’t outside, now you’ve done it, though he never directs the frustration at you. but if he’s in such a big hurry, wouldn’t he have left by now? Surely doesn’t have the time to wait around- and he’s yelling that you look fine from the street.

“That suspiciously sounds like you just made that up. at what point has that ever stopped me before?”:

• Ratchet will express that in so many words, but his concern will triumph over most things. He’s worried by your misplaced and unusual deflection, partial to looking for his company when it’s often unattainable. He doesn’t do it on purpose, but in the spare moments he does have, he uses them to see you. So when you decline his request, he’s still coming over, hell or high water. Whatever you’re wearing or whatever you’re doing he’s fine being in the company of, so your excuses are paper thin. You don’t sound sick, but he’s gotta be certain of that...

• “yeah, a hot mess!” Bluestreak tried, you’ll give him points there. “…that’s what you meant, right?” Unsettled and nervous chatter arises on his behalf when you can’t quite articulate why you feel so messy, and he immediately begins pressing for answers. there's a full minute where he thinks he did something wrong, and just when you console him that he didn't, you can already hear his wheels burning rubber in the background. hah, good luck stopping him, he's already halfway to your place, and cannot fathom why you looking a little messy would ever prohibit him from coming over. he'll be wary and uneasy the rest of the ride, wanting to get to the root of your woes.

“You always look beautiful, but if you’re not up to company that’s okay,”:

• Hound sorta understands, yet doesn't quite completely in regards to your explanation. though he's disheartened by a handful of things- one that you don't feel up to par outwardly and think that he cares what you are wearing or how you look in this very moment. you always look perfect to him, and your comment only fuels an unsteady flame that makes him think something else is very wrong. but he won't pry or shoulder his way in, he knows you'll come around when you're ready to talk, being supportive as always. he won't argue, he's straight to the point: no, you don't look a mess. he doesn't have to see you to know that, he knows, and to call him whenever you're ready for his company because he'll be over in a heartbeat.

• if anyone gets it, it's Ironhide. your excuse is garbage and untrue, but he'll kid around and poke fun just to get you to laugh. "What, did you just wake up or somethin'?" He really misses your company if you end up canceling, but he makes sure you know that you always look good to him, no matter what. he ultimately respects your boundaries for a couple of hours, and then he's circling your block to make sure you're still alive in there. radio silence is unforgiving, but as much as he misses you, he doesn't want to cross the imaginary line that is your patience. something else must be wrong for you to disappear into your room for the majority of the day, and he intends to get to the bottom of it by the evening.

[muiitoloko]

hey weird request but will you write a story about Frank and his reader wife, hes older than her, and when she starts asking for a baby he turns her down and she withdraws from him gradually, so one morning when she gets up earlier than him and goes and makes breakfast he borrows her vibrator to get off and she catches him while hes cumming, please eventually give the girl a baby though SO SMUTTY i am sorry, but please i am craving some high level dominant watch from the corner vibes

Title: Generals and Generations.

Summary: Haunted by his age and past, Frank Benson resists his wife's dream of having a baby, but their undeniable chemistry and love force him to reconsider.

Pairing: Frank Benson × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut

Author's Notes: Thanks for your request; I hope you enjoy it!

Also read on Ao3

Frank kissed your shoulder as he leaned into you, his thick cock driving deep with every slow, deliberate thrust. His body was heavy against yours, his chest pressing into your back as he moved, savoring the way you melted beneath him. His hooked nose brushed against your ear, his breath hot and uneven as he growled, “Christ, love. You feel bloody perfect—so tight, so warm. Like you were made to take me.”

You moaned, arching into him, your fingers curling into the sheets as he thrust harder, his chubby fingers gripping your hips like he owned you. And in this moment, he did.

But even as pleasure consumed you, your mind drifted to something else—something you’d been wanting, asking for, begging for. Between moans, you gasped, “Frank… I want a baby.”

His movements faltered for a split second, barely noticeable, but you caught it. Then, with a deep sigh, he resumed his pace, his thumbs pressing into the small hollow of your lower back. “Not this again,” he muttered, his baritone voice tinged with irritation.

You whined in disappointment, pushing back against him, trying to distract him with your body, hoping that maybe, this time, he’d change his mind. “You gave two children to your ex-wife,” you argued breathlessly, “why won’t you give me one?”

Frank grunted, his grip tightening as he thrust deeper, his dominance unshaken. “Because, love,” he growled, his voice firm, commanding, “I’m too bloody old to be raising another child. By the time they turn ten, I’ll be in a damn nursing home.”

You whimpered, but Frank didn’t stop—didn’t soften. If anything, his frustration fueled him, making him rougher, more relentless. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them against the mattress, his full weight pressing down on you as he drove into you with purpose. “You think a baby will change things?” he growled, his hooked nose nuzzling against the back of your neck. “You think I don’t already own you?”

“I—” Your words dissolved into a moan as he angled his thrusts deeper, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you that made your vision blur.

“I give you everything, don’t I?” he pressed, his voice dropping into that dangerous, authoritative tone that sent shivers down your spine. “This body. This pleasure. You belong to me, love. And I don’t need a child to prove that.”

You moaned helplessly, lost in the sensation of him claiming you, dominating you completely. But still, you wanted more. “I want a part of you,” you whispered, your voice breaking as he pounded into you. “Something that’s ours.”

Frank let out a dark chuckle, his breath heavy against your skin. “You want something that’s ours?” he murmured, his fingers sliding down to rub your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “You already have it, love. You have me. My cock, my name, my bloody soul.”

His pace quickened, his thrusts punishing now, each stroke a reminder of who was in control. “You want me to put a baby in you?” he taunted, his voice dripping with dominance. “Want me to fuck you so full of my cum that you’ll be carrying my brat in the morning?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your nails digging into the sheets. “Please, Frank. Give me a baby.”

Frank groaned, his movements faltering for just a moment before he composed himself, shaking his head. “Not happening,” he growled, his baritone voice rough with finality. “But that won’t stop me from filling you up, love.”

You let out a helpless cry as he slammed into you, his cock thick and unrelenting, stretching you to the brink of madness. He was ruthless now, determined to remind you who was in charge, who owned you.

“God, you’re so needy,” he rasped, his lips brushing against your ear as his thrusts grew erratic. “So desperate for me, aren’t you? But I decide what you get, love. And right now, all you’re getting is my cum. Nothing else.”

Your body tensed, your release tearing through you in an overwhelming wave as Frank groaned, his grip bruising as he followed, spilling into you with a deep, guttural growl. His weight pressed into you as he caught his breath, his white hair damp with sweat.

For a moment, there was silence, save for the sound of your ragged breathing. Then, Frank kissed your shoulder again, softer this time, his fingers stroking your waist. “No children,” he murmured, his voice firm but not unkind. “But you have me. Always.”

You sighed, knowing this wasn’t the end of the conversation. But for now, as Frank’s arms wrapped around you, his cock still buried deep inside you, you let it go. You had him—and that was enough.

For now.

The morning sunlight filtered through the kitchen window, casting long shadows over the breakfast table where you and Frank sat in thick silence. Your plate was still untouched, the toast growing cold beside your half-drunk cup of tea. Across from you, Frank methodically cut into his eggs, his movements precise but tight, his white hair slightly disheveled from the morning shower. His hazel eyes were locked onto his plate, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his irritation.

You sighed, arms crossed, before finally speaking. "You haven’t given me an answer, Frank."

Frank’s knife halted mid-cut, his grip tightening around the handle before he exhaled slowly, setting it down with deliberate control. He finally met your gaze, his hooked nose twitching slightly as his hazel eyes darkened with frustration. "I have given you an answer," he said, his baritone voice firm. "Several times, in fact."

You scoffed, pushing your plate aside as you leaned forward. "No, you’ve given me an excuse," you countered, your voice sharper than you intended. "You keep saying you’re too old, that you’ve done this before, but what about me? What about what I want, Frank?"

Frank clenched his jaw, exhaling sharply through his nose. "What you want," he repeated, his voice lower now, measured but no less commanding. "And what about what I want, hmm? You think I haven't thought about this? That I don’t consider your feelings?"

You stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. "No, Frank, I think you’ve made up your mind and expect me to just accept it."

Frank inhaled deeply, rubbing a hand over his face before pushing back his chair abruptly. The sudden movement startled you, but you held your ground, watching as he grabbed his military jacket from the back of his chair, shaking it out before slipping it on. The stiff fabric fell over his broad shoulders, and he began buttoning it with quick, efficient movements, his authority still intact even in the middle of an argument.

"I don’t like leaving for work when we’re fighting," he muttered, his fingers fastening the buttons with practiced precision. "But you’re determined to push this conversation to its breaking point."

You crossed your arms, your lips pressing into a thin line. "You’re determined to ignore what I want."

Frank scoffed, his hooked nose flaring slightly as he adjusted his collar. "Bloody hell, woman," he growled, his baritone voice edged with irritation. "You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t lie awake at night wondering if I’m being selfish, if I’m making the right decision?"

You took a step closer, refusing to let him dismiss you. "Then why won’t you reconsider?" you demanded. "Frank, you gave your ex-wife two children. Why is it so impossible to give me just one?"

Frank stopped buttoning his jacket, his hazel eyes locking onto yours with a sharp intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "Because I refuse to do it half-heartedly," he said, his voice quieter now, but no less firm. "And I know myself, love. I know my limits. I have spent my life commanding men, making decisions that weigh on me every damn day. I don’t have the energy to raise another child."

You swallowed, your chest tightening at the finality in his tone. "Then what does that mean for us?" you whispered, your voice trembling.

Frank sighed, running a hand through his white hair before gripping the back of his chair tightly. "It means I love you, but I won’t be bullied into this," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "And if you can’t accept that, then maybe we need to have a much harder conversation."

Your breath hitched, and for the first time in this argument, fear crept into your heart. You had pushed him, but you never thought he’d suggest—no, he wouldn’t. Frank wasn’t the kind of man to walk away. Was he?

Frank watched the flicker of uncertainty cross your face, his hazel eyes softening for a moment before he sighed again, rubbing his forehead. "I don’t want to fight with you," he muttered, his voice rough with frustration and exhaustion. "I don’t want to go to work with this hanging over my head."

"Then don’t go," you blurted before you could stop yourself.

Frank let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "You know I don’t have that luxury," he murmured, fastening the last button of his jacket before grabbing his cap. He hesitated for a moment, his expression unreadable, before stepping toward you.

His large, chubby hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he studied you. His hazel eyes, usually so controlled, held something else now—something troubled, conflicted.

"You are my entire bloody world," he murmured, his baritone voice lower now, softer. "But if this becomes the thing that drives a wedge between us, I don’t know if I can—" He cut himself off, inhaling deeply before shaking his head. "I just don’t know."

Your chest tightened, and you reached up, gripping his wrists as you stared up at him. "I love you, Frank," you whispered. "But this matters to me."

Frank exhaled, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead before pulling back, his hands dropping away. "I know," he muttered, stepping toward the door. "And that’s what scares me."

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving his half-eaten breakfast on the table and a heavy silence in his wake.

Frank leaned back in his chair, the dim glow of the television illuminating his features in the darkened living room. His hazel eyes were fixed on the screen, but his focus wavered. The football match played on, the commentators’ voices droning in the background, yet his mind was elsewhere.

His grip tightened around the bottle of beer in his hand as he took another slow sip, the cool liquid doing little to ease the frustration coiling in his chest. You had been distant ever since that morning—the morning he had put his foot down. No children. No discussion. That was supposed to be the end of it.

And yet, it wasn’t.

You still went about your days, still smiled and spoke to him, but something had changed. The way you no longer curled up on his lap while he watched the game. The way you no longer idly played with the hem of his shirt when you got bored. The way you no longer clung to him when you fell asleep, like you always did before. It was subtle, but Frank noticed. He noticed everything.

He sighed heavily, rolling the cold glass bottle against his forehead in an attempt to cool his thoughts. This is ridiculous, Benson. You’re a goddamn Lieutenant General. You don’t question your decisions. You make a call and stick with it.

And yet, the image in his mind wouldn’t leave.

You, round and full, your belly stretched with his child. Your body softer, your breasts swollen with milk, preparing to nourish the life you both created. The thought was disturbingly enticing, so much so that he had to force himself to shake it off.

Frank scowled, his military discipline battling against the temptation. He knew the reality of pregnancy—the exhaustion, the swollen feet, the mood swings. He had dealt with it before. He had held his ex-wife’s hair back when she vomited in the mornings, listened to her cry over things that made no damn sense, driven out in the middle of the night to get whatever ridiculous food she suddenly craved. It was chaos. Unpredictable. And Frank despised anything that disrupted order.

But then… there was the other side of it.

The first flutter of tiny kicks against a palm pressed to soft skin. The warmth of a newborn curled against his chest, fragile and helpless but utterly his. The way a child would reach for him instinctively, knowing he was their protector, their safe place. He could still remember the weight of his son in his arms for the first time, the small fingers curling around his own.

Christ.

Frank took another sip of beer, his jaw tightening as he forced himself to think of the negatives. The sleepless nights. The crying. The endless responsibility. He had done his time as a father. He had raised two children already. He wasn’t about to start over again when he was this old.

And yet…

His hazel eyes flickered toward the hallway, where he knew you were, likely in bed, probably curled up alone, thinking about the same damn thing.

Frank exhaled sharply, setting his beer down with a dull thunk. This silence between you had gone on long enough. He was not a man who tolerated insubordination, not in the field, and certainly not in his own home. You had challenged his authority, and while he had made his decision, he hated the distance it had created.

His patience had run out.

Pushing himself up from the chair, he ran a hand through his white hair before striding toward the bedroom, his steps slow and deliberate. His presence was commanding, even in the quiet of the house. When he reached the door, he didn’t knock. He never knocked. Instead, he pushed it open, his broad frame filling the doorway as he looked at you.

You were curled up under the blankets, your back to him. Stubborn.

Frank narrowed his eyes. Enough of this.

Without a word, he walked over to the bed and sat down beside you. The mattress dipped under his weight, but you didn’t move, refusing to acknowledge him. That irritated him more than it should have.

His hand found your hip, his grip firm, possessive. “Are we going to talk about this?” His baritone voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge to it—a warning.

You remained silent for a moment before finally exhaling, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s nothing to talk about. You made your decision.”

Frank clenched his jaw. He hated that tone. Hated that you sounded defeated. He was used to you pushing back, fighting for what you wanted, not shutting down like this.

He leaned down, his hooked nose brushing against your shoulder as he spoke again, his voice dropping into that dangerously soft register. “That’s not how this works, love. You don’t get to shut me out.”

You swallowed, but still, you didn’t turn to face him.

Frank sighed, his fingers tightening slightly on your hip. “Look at me.” It wasn’t a request.

Slowly, you rolled onto your back, finally meeting his gaze. Your eyes were sad, filled with unspoken words that twisted something inside him.

Frank studied you for a long moment before he exhaled deeply. “You think I don’t want this?” he muttered, more to himself than to you. He shook his head. “Bloody hell, woman. You have no idea how much I’ve thought about it.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and for the first time in days, he saw a flicker of hope there. “Then why won’t you—”

“Because I know what it takes.” His voice was firm, unwavering. “And I don’t know if I have it in me to do it again.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.

Frank sighed, watching as you softly nodded and turned away from him. He didn’t push you any further. There was nothing left to say tonight. Instead, he exhaled deeply, running a hand through his white hair before pulling back the blankets and sliding in beside you. His body was warm, his presence familiar, but there was a new distance between you—one he wasn’t sure how to bridge.

For a long time, he lay there in silence, staring at the ceiling, listening to the slow rhythm of your breathing. Eventually, sleep took him too.

Frank woke up to the soft sounds of movement downstairs. You were already up. The faint clinking of dishes and the low hum of the kettle told him you were making breakfast. He considered getting up immediately, but the warmth of the bed, the quiet solitude of the early morning, tempted him to linger a little longer.

He shifted under the blankets, stretching slightly—and then he felt it.

His cock was hard. That wasn’t unusual. It happened every damn morning. But what was unusual was the way his body reacted when he thought about you. About the way you’d been avoiding him. About how long it had been since he had touched you.

Frank let out a slow breath, his large hand sliding down to palm himself through his underwear. He squeezed, just for a moment, testing his own sensitivity. Christ. He was aching. He gritted his teeth, fighting the familiar urge to take care of it himself.

He wasn’t the kind of man who begged.

But fuck, it had been too long.

Shaking off the thought, he sighed and pulled his hand away. He wasn’t a desperate teenager. He had control. Always had.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. His white hair was slightly disheveled, his hazel eyes still clouded with sleep. He reached for the drawer beside him, pulling it open in search of a fresh pair of boxers—

And then his hand froze.

Tucked in the back of the drawer, almost hidden beneath a few of your belongings, was something small, discreet… unmistakable.

Your vibrator.

Frank picked it up, turning it over in his fingers, his jaw tightening as something dark and possessive stirred in his gut.

So this was what you’d been doing when he wasn’t around.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. He could picture it too easily. You, alone in bed, your legs spread wide, this little thing buzzing between your thighs, trying to give yourself the pleasure he used to give you.

The image sent a sharp pulse of heat straight to his cock.

Frank exhaled through his nose, rolling the toy between his fingers. His voice, low and gruff in the quiet of the morning, escaped him before he even realized he was speaking aloud.

"That what you’ve been using, love?"

He smirked slightly, despite himself. His baritone voice took on a darker, teasing edge. "Lying here, thinking about me, pressing this between those pretty thighs, hoping it’ll do the job?"

Frank turned the toy on, the soft hum filling the quiet bedroom. He watched it vibrate in his palm, his hazel eyes dark with curiosity. He had never really paid attention to the damn thing before, but now, holding it like this, picturing how you used it—how you spread yourself open, how you must have bitten your lip, muffling your moans as you played with it—made something hot and possessive coil in his gut.

His cock twitched, aching against the fabric of his underwear. Fuck. He was already hard as a rock, and now this?

Frank cast a glance at the door, making sure you were still downstairs. The faint sounds of dishes clinking in the kitchen told him you were occupied.

Good.

His grip tightened around the toy, his breath slow and measured as he pressed the tip of it against his length through the thin fabric of his underwear.

The vibration sent a jolt of pleasure straight through him.

"Christ," Frank muttered under his breath, his baritone voice rough with surprise. His hips twitched instinctively, pushing up into the sensation. He hadn’t expected it to feel this good—not from a damn toy.

His jaw tightened as he teased himself, dragging the buzzing tip along the thick outline of his cock. His hand trembled slightly as he spread his legs wider, giving himself more room to move. The vibrations pulsed against his aching length, sending shivers up his spine.

"That what gets you off, love?" he muttered to himself, smirking darkly. "This little thing buzzing between your legs?"

He shifted, pressing the toy more firmly against the sensitive head of his cock, still trapped in his underwear. A deep, guttural groan escaped him as his hips bucked involuntarily.

"Fuck," he hissed, biting his lip. His breath came in slow, heavy pants, his broad chest rising and falling as he fought the urge to push the fabric down and wrap his fist around himself properly.

His free hand clenched the edge of the bed, his knuckles turning white. The vibrations pulsed through him, teasing him, pushing him to the brink. It was nowhere near as good as your touch, nowhere near as good as sinking into your tight, wet heat—but fuck, it was enough to get him thinking.

Thinking about how he’d find you later.

Thinking about how he’d drag you upstairs, press you down onto the mattress, and show you exactly why this little toy would never be enough.

His breath hitched, his body tense with restraint. His cock twitched against the vibration, thick and needy, so damn close—

The moment the door creaked open, Frank tensed—his breath hitched, his entire body locking up in sheer, unfiltered shock. And then, just as his hazel eyes flicked up to meet yours, his release surged through him. A deep, guttural groan tore from his throat, his baritone voice raw with pleasure as his cock pulsed, thick ropes of cum spilling into his underwear, soaking the fabric beneath the relentless hum of the vibrator still pressed against him.

His broad chest heaved, his white hair damp with sweat as he slumped back onto the mattress, utterly spent.

And you—frozen in the doorway, your eyes wide, your face flushed a deep shade of crimson—stared in stunned silence.

“Bloody hell—” you choked out, turning on your heel so fast you nearly tripped over yourself. “I—I didn’t mean to— I’ll just give you a moment—!”

Frank groaned, still catching his breath, and let out a rough, amused chuckle. “Christ, love,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face before dragging it down his chest. “Don’t run off now.”

Your breath hitched at the sheer command in his voice—low, exhausted, but undeniably firm.

“I—” You swallowed hard, shifting awkwardly. “I just came to wake you for breakfast.”

Frank exhaled a slow, measured breath and propped himself up onto his elbows, his hazel eyes dark with something unreadable. His lips curled into a lazy smirk, but there was an undeniable intensity in the way he watched you. Like a predator who had just been caught in a rare moment of vulnerability but wasn’t the least bit ashamed.

He gestured lazily to himself—the thick stain spreading across the front of his underwear, the still-vibrating toy discarded beside him. “Think you already gave me a proper wake-up call.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment scorching your skin. “Frank—”

“Come here,” he interrupted, his baritone voice rough with something between amusement and impatience.

Your stomach flipped. “I—”

“Come. Here.” His tone left no room for argument.

You hesitated but obeyed, stepping hesitantly toward the bed, your gaze flickering down to the evidence of his climax. The dark stain stretched across the fabric of his underwear, and you felt heat rush between your thighs at the sheer sight of him—disheveled, undone, his large frame sprawled across the mattress like he had been wrecked by his own damn hand.

Or rather, your toy.

“Curious, are we?” Frank teased, watching the way your gaze lingered.

You scowled, but your body betrayed you. Your breath was uneven, your fingers twitching at your sides.

Frank smirked. And then, in one swift motion, he grabbed your wrist and yanked you down onto the bed with him.

A startled gasp left your lips as you landed half on top of him, your hands splayed against his bare chest. His skin was warm, slightly damp, and his heartbeat thrummed beneath your fingertips.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, flustered beyond belief.

“And you’re bloody adorable when you’re flustered,” Frank shot back, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

You huffed, attempting to push yourself up, but Frank’s arms tightened around you, keeping you exactly where he wanted. His hazel eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you—cheeks flushed, lips parted, your body straddling his, so close yet so frustratingly clothed.

A slow, wicked smirk curled across his lips.

“You’re gonna get the baby you want so much,” he murmured, his baritone voice dripping with certainty.

Your heart nearly stopped.

Your breath hitched, your eyes widening in shock. “Frank—”

“Shh,” he murmured, his hooked nose grazing your jaw as he tilted his head, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I’ve thought about it. Thought about you, round and full with my child. Thought about how you’d look carrying something that belongs to both of us.”

A strangled sound left your throat, half disbelief, half arousal. “I don’t want to force you into this—”

Frank scoffed, his large hands sliding down to grip your hips, pulling you flush against the hard bulge already pressing between your thighs. “You think I don’t want to procreate you?” His voice was thick with heat, his breath hot against your skin. “You think I haven’t pictured you swollen with my child, your body soft and ripe for me?”

Your stomach flipped violently, arousal pooling deep in your belly.

Frank smirked at your stunned silence. His fingers curled under your shirt, sliding up the curve of your waist as he continued, his voice slow and deliberate, each word dripping with sinful intent.

“Think I haven’t imagined watching your belly stretch, watching your tits get heavy and full? Christ, love, the thought of you leaking for me…” He groaned, his grip tightening as he rocked his hips up, his cock straining against his underwear.

You whimpered, heat flooding your core at the sheer filth of his words.

Frank’s lips trailed down your neck, his hooked nose grazing your pulse. “You’ll be so bloody perfect like that,” he murmured. “Made for it. Made to take my cock, made to carry my child.”

Your thighs clenched around him, and Frank chuckled darkly.

“Ah,” he hummed, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama shorts, his knuckles brushing against the wet heat between your legs. “So you like that, do you? Like the idea of me filling you up, watching you grow round and full with my seed?”

You whined, arching against him. “Frank—”

“Say it,” he ordered, his baritone voice a deep, authoritative rumble. “Tell me you want it.”

Your breathing was ragged, your body trembling against his.

“I—I want it,” you gasped, nails digging into his chest. “I want you to put a baby in me.”

Frank growled, his eyes flashing with pure, unadulterated hunger. “That’s my good girl.”

And then, without hesitation, he flipped you onto your back, his large frame pressing you into the mattress, his hazel eyes burning with intent.

“Let’s make you a mother, then.”

Frank settled between your thighs with the slow, deliberate ease of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. His strong hands gripped your legs, parting them wider as he pressed his broad chest flush against the mattress, his hooked nose brushing the inside of your thigh.

"Christ," he murmured, his baritone voice thick with reverence as he took in the sight of you. "Already so wet for me, love." He smirked, his breath warm against your slick folds. "Desperate little thing, aren’t you?"

You whimpered, hips twitching toward him, but Frank held you steady, his chubby fingers pressing into your thighs with just enough force to keep you still. He wanted to savor this—to prepare you properly, to recover from his own release before he gave you exactly what you asked for.

"Patience," he murmured, the word edged with amusement. "We've got all morning."

Then, with agonizing slowness, he dipped his head, his lips pressing a chaste kiss against your clit. You gasped, fingers curling into the sheets, but Frank wasn’t in a rush. No, this was a damn fine way to start the day, and he intended to enjoy every second of it.

His tongue flicked out, teasing, tasting, before he latched onto you properly, sucking gently. The deep groan that rumbled in his throat sent vibrations straight through you, and your thighs clenched around his head, back arching off the bed.

"Bloody hell," Frank growled against your skin, his hazel eyes dark as he looked up at you. "So damn sweet."

His chubby fingers joined the assault, spreading you open so he could feast properly. He licked a long, slow stripe up your folds, his hooked nose pressing against you, inhaling your scent like he was a man starved.

Your moan was broken, breathless, and Frank smirked against you, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you down. "That’s it, love," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your entrance before slipping his tongue inside. "Take what I give you."

Your hands flew to his white hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you tried to grind against his face, but Frank chuckled, his grip tightening. "So needy," he mused, voice muffled against your dripping heat. "You want my cock that badly, hmm? Want me to fuck you full first thing in the morning?"

"Yes," you gasped, thighs trembling. "Please, Frank—"

"Mm," he hummed, pleased, his tongue curling inside you before he pulled back just enough to flick your clit with the tip. "Not yet."

You whined in frustration, but Frank only smirked, one thick finger teasing your entrance before sinking inside, curling just right. "I need you open for me, love," he murmured, adding a second finger, stretching you just enough to have you gasping.

He licked you again, slow and thorough, his baritone voice vibrating against your core. "Gonna be a good girl and take all of me, aren’t you?"

You nodded frantically, words failing you as his fingers moved in tandem with his tongue, his pace unrelenting.

"That’s it," Frank praised, his voice rough with hunger. "Gonna fill you up, make sure it takes." His lips wrapped around your clit again, sucking with just the right amount of pressure. "Gonna make you round with my child."

The words alone sent you spiraling, pleasure cresting in a blinding, overwhelming wave as you came apart beneath him, your cries filling the room.

Frank groaned, lapping up everything you gave him before pulling back, his mouth slick, his hazel eyes dark with hunger. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, exhaling a deep, satisfied breath.

Frank sat back on his knees, his broad chest rising and falling with deep, measured breaths. His hazel eyes burned with something raw and insatiable as he reached down, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his soiled underwear. In one slow, deliberate motion, he pushed them down, letting his thick, heavy cock spring free. It was still slick from his earlier release, the flushed tip already leaking again at the mere sight of you beneath him.

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing as you reached for the hem of your pajama top, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. The cool air sent a shiver through you, but Frank’s gaze—hungry, possessive—made you feel scalding hot.

His breath hitched slightly as he took in the sight of your bare breasts, the soft curves rising and falling with each uneven inhale. His large, chubby hands reached out, cupping them reverently before his fingers tightened, rolling a taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Christ,” he murmured, his baritone voice thick with something primal. “So bloody perfect.”

You whimpered, arching into his touch as he leaned down, his hooked nose grazing your skin before he captured one of your nipples between his lips. His tongue was hot, wet, swirling around the sensitive peak before he sucked greedily, groaning at the way you gasped beneath him.

His other hand trailed down, his fingers sliding over your thigh before gripping just above your knee. He lifted your leg, adjusting his position, spreading you open wider for him. His cock brushed against your slick heat, the thick head teasing your entrance, and you shuddered at the contact.

Frank released your nipple with a wet pop, his breath coming out in ragged pants as he dragged his cock along your folds, coating himself in your arousal. “Good thing you’re so bloody flexible,” he muttered, smirking as he pushed your leg up further, angling himself just right.

And then, with one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed inside you.

A sharp gasp tore from your lips as he stretched you, filling you inch by inch. Frank groaned, his head dropping forward, his white hair falling into his face as he sank deeper. “Fuck,” he hissed, his baritone voice shaking slightly. “So bloody tight.”

Your fingers curled around his biceps, nails digging into the firm muscle as he bottomed out, his cock buried to the hilt. His breath was hot against your skin, his broad chest pressing into yours as he let you adjust, savoring the way your walls clenched around him.

“Christ, love,” he growled, pulling back slightly before thrusting in again, slower this time, savoring every inch of you. “You feel—” His jaw clenched as he pushed deeper, angling himself just right. “Like you were made for me.”

You whimpered, your body arching, desperate for more. “Frank—”

He smirked at the way you gasped his name, his grip on your leg tightening as he rolled his hips, hitting that perfect spot that sent white-hot pleasure racing through you.

“There it is,” he murmured, watching the way your eyes fluttered shut, your lips parting in a silent moan. “That’s what I want, love. Want to see you unravel beneath me.”

His thrusts quickened, his cock slamming into you at just the right angle, your leg pressed high against his chest. The stretch was intense, the pleasure overwhelming, and Frank knew exactly what he was doing.

“You wanted a baby, didn’t you?” he growled, his hazel eyes locked onto yours, watching every reaction, every gasp. “Wanted me to fill you up, fuck my brat into you?”

You moaned helplessly, nodding, too lost in the sensation to form words.

And you? You had stopped taking your contraceptives without a second thought.

Frank’s smirk deepened, his dominance unwavering. “Then take it,” he snarled, thrusting harder, deeper. “Take every bloody drop.”

The past month had been a blur of heat, sweat, and whispered promises in the dark. Frank had been insatiable—more than usual. The man already had an insurmountable appetite for you, but ever since he’d muttered those fateful words—"Let’s make you a mother"—he had been relentless.

It hadn't been much of a surprise when the first signs of pregnancy appeared—the exhaustion, the heightened sensitivity, the constant flutter in your lower belly. You had taken the test early that morning, standing in the dim light of the bathroom, your hands trembling slightly as you stared at the little stick.

Positive.

Your heart had clenched, a rush of emotions flooding you all at once. You were pregnant.

With Frank’s baby.

A part of him. A part of you.

You had pressed a hand to your still-flat stomach, a quiet smile tugging at your lips. He didn’t know yet. But you were determined to make sure he found out in the best possible way.

Frank was due home soon, and you had prepared everything meticulously. The dining table was set, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. A bottle of his favorite whiskey sat next to a glass, waiting for him. And in the center of the table was a small, wrapped box—inside it, the positive pregnancy test, neatly nestled between a tiny onesie that read, Daddy’s Little Soldier.

Your heart pounded as you smoothed down your dress, glancing at the clock. Any moment now.

And then, right on time, the front door creaked open.

Frank stepped inside, shaking off his military jacket as he muttered something about "bloody politics" and "incompetent bureaucrats." His white hair was slightly tousled, his hooked nose flaring as he let out a tired sigh.

Then, his hazel eyes landed on you.

He stopped.

The irritation in his face melted away almost instantly as he took in the scene—the candles, the dinner, the whiskey. His sharp gaze flickered back to you, brows raising slightly. “What’s this?” His baritone voice was low, cautious, amused.

You smiled, stepping forward to take his jacket from his hands. “I thought I’d surprise you,” you murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek.

Frank hummed, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Now, what have I done to deserve this?” His fingers grazed your waist, his grip firm, possessive, as he pulled you against him. His scent—whiskey, musk, and something distinctly him—washed over you. “Have I been an especially good boy?”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, but your stomach fluttered all the same. “You’ll see soon enough,” you replied, nudging him toward the table. “Sit.”

Frank gave you a long, assessing look but obeyed, settling into his chair with a heavy sigh. His chubby fingers reached for the whiskey, pouring himself a glass as his hazel eyes flickered toward the small wrapped box in the center of the table.

His gaze sharpened.

You swallowed, nerves creeping up your spine. “Open it.”

Frank set his glass down, his fingers moving with practiced precision as he untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. The moment his eyes landed on the onesie, he stilled.

Silence.

Then, slowly, he picked up the tiny garment, his rough, calloused fingers brushing over the words Daddy’s Little Soldier.

Your heart pounded. “Frank—”

But he wasn’t looking at the onesie anymore. His eyes had drifted to the object beneath it.

The pregnancy test.

Frank’s fingers curled around it, his hazel eyes darkening as he processed what he was seeing. The lines were unmistakable.

Positive.

For the first time since you’d known him, Frank Benson was speechless.

Your chest tightened. “Say something,” you whispered.

Frank exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around the test as he looked up at you. His expression was unreadable—shock, disbelief, something else you couldn’t quite place.

“You’re pregnant?” His voice was rough, almost hesitant.

You nodded. “Yes.”

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He just stared at you, his hazel eyes searching yours, his hooked nose flaring with each deep inhale.

Then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, he let out a deep, shuddering breath.

“Bloody hell,” he murmured.

You bit your lip, your stomach twisting in uncertainty. “Are you—are you happy?”

Frank blinked.

And then, to your absolute shock, he let out a low, breathless laugh.

A real, genuine laugh.

He shook his head, running a hand down his face before looking back at you, his expression somewhere between exasperation and utter, undeniable joy. “Christ, woman,” he muttered, his baritone voice rough. “Of course, I’m happy.”

Before you could even react, he was out of his chair, closing the distance between you in two strides. His large hands cupped your face, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was searing, desperate, filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

Possession.

Gratitude.

Love.

When he pulled back, his hooked nose brushed against yours, his breath warm and heavy. “You’re carrying my child,” he murmured, his voice raw with emotion.

You nodded, your throat tight.

Frank let out a slow exhale, his chubby fingers trailing down your body before settling on your stomach. His touch was uncharacteristically gentle, reverent. “My baby,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Our baby.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your hands covering his. “Yes.”

Frank was quiet for a long moment, just staring at your stomach as if he could already see the life growing inside of you. Then, his grip tightened.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he said, his voice low, commanding, filled with absolute certainty. “Of both of you.”

Your heart clenched.

He lifted his gaze back to yours, his hazel eyes burning with intensity. “No arguments, love. You’re mine. And now, so is this little one.”

A shaky laugh escaped you. “I wouldn’t dream of arguing.”

Frank smirked. “Good girl.”

Then, with a satisfied hum, he pressed another kiss to your lips before dropping to his knees, his broad hands settling on your hips as he nuzzled against your stomach.

And in the dim glow of candlelight, with his baritone voice murmuring soft words against your skin, you realized—this was it.

This was everything.

[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.”

[holylulusworld]

Bucky & Ducky (4) - The new family member

Summary: Bucky Barnes. Ruthless mafia boss. Soft only for his wife and…well, Ducky.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Side pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Ducky the duck

Warnings: mafia business, fluff, unusual friendship

A/N: Thanks to @buck-star for the idea and brainstorming with me. I did it…😅

Catch up here: Bucky & Ducky (3) - Growing friendship

Bucky & Ducky Masterlist

“Bucky, this is not a catwalk," you giggle as Bucky walks out of the bathroom like a male model. He strides toward you and Alpine, smirking as you watch him.

Ducky is not far behind. The duckling waddles toward the bed, quacking loudly.

"What? This is how I walk!" Bucky grins because your eyes are glued to him like most of the time he’s around. “Ducky, tell her hot men walk like that.”

Bucky picks the duckling up to place it into the soft cat bed you got for Ducky.

"You are striking a pose, Mr. Barnes. This is not walking!" You look at Alpine for confirmation. “Right, Alpine? Daddy tries to impress someone. I wonder who it is?”

“Only you, doll.” He purrs before cupping your face to steal a kiss. “You know that there never was someone else since we met.”

“I will keep you up on that promise, pretty man.” He laughs against your lips. “I mean it, Mr. Barnes. I won’t let you stray.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of looking at some other woman.” Bucky kisses you again, slow and sensual. “Or man.”

“Bucky,” you giggle and playfully slap his chest. “Not in front of the…” Bucky laughs as you whisper duckling. “Ducky is still a baby. We cannot get naughty in front of the kids.”

“Kids,” Bucky purrs. He tugs at your bathrobe, smirking cockily. “We don’t have kids yet, but we could change that right now.”

“Oh, Mr. Barnes gets cocky, huh.” You grab his bathrobe to drag him on top of you. “How about we see if you can keep up with your cocky attitude?”

“Baby doll, if you keep talking like this, you’ll end up round and swollen in no time,” Bucky playfully threatens. He nips at your neck, hands already roaming your body. “Do you want me to ruin you?”

You smirk. “You’re playing with fire, sir.” Bucky groans at your words. “If you offer a woman to knock her up, you should follow your plan.”

Alpine flees the moment Bucky rips your bathrobe open. The white furball knows what’s coming and doesn’t want to get chased away when things get heated.

“Ducky, this is not how a duckling behaves,” Bucky tuts as the duckling poops on his white dress shirt. “I thought we were past this, punk. No pooping onto my clothes.”

“Bucky.” You try not to laugh but fail epically. “I don’t think you can teach a duckling to not poop on your clothes, shoes, or the floor.”

“We could get diapers,” Bucky immediately says. “Right? Ducky is a baby, and babies wear diapers.” He nods thoughtfully before getting his phone out. “Let me look for more things we’ll need for Ducky.”

“I don’t think Ducky will like wearing diapers.” You try to stop Bucky from buying random stuff for the duckling. He did the same with Alpine, and now you own three cat trees, several cat beds, and a huge number of toys.

“Maybe we can get Ducky a cat toilet,” Bucky tries. “Wait, let me check this on Google.” He hums while scrolling through his phone. “Wait, there’s a forum for people with ducks.”

“Bucky,” you giggle as he tries to sign up for the forum. “We don’t need a forum.”

Bucky dips his head to look at you. “Do you have a book for me? We need to know more about ducks and how to take care of a duckling, right?”

“I know how to feed, bathe, and care for Ducky. Bucky, we don’t need a forum, alright?”

He nods. “I only want to make sure Ducky feels comfortable and that the punk won’t get sick. I mean…uh—I don’t want them to poop into the bathtub.”

“Or on your shoes,” you snort as Bucky looks down at his body. Ducky not only ruined his shirt but also pooped onto his favorite shoes.

“Ducky, you dirty punk,” he laughs. “We talked about pooping on my shoes. What did I tell you yesterday after you napped in my slippers only to leave a little surprise in them?”

“It was an accident,” you softly reply and pat Ducky’s head. “Ducky is still a baby.”

Bucky lifts the small duckling to bring Ducky face to face with him. “Punk, you’re lucky that you’re damn cute. If not, you’d never get away with pooping on me and my shoes.”

Steve, Sam, and Clint hold back a chuckle as Bucky carefully places a box on his desk. Ducky sits inside the box, quacking loudly. They know how much Alpine and the duckling mean to you and Bucky.

“So, you kept it?” Steve asks, glancing at the duckling sitting in the box, on top of one of Bucky’s old shirts. “How many pets do you have now?”

“Not too many,” Bucky grunts. He pats Ducky’s head, smiling as the duckling nuzzles his hand. “Ducky is a member of my family now. Live with it.”

“It’s damn cute,” Sam says. “I wonder if Alpine gets along with the duckling. Cats usually like to chase birds.”

“Alpine is well-behaved. They know not to hurt Ducky or chase the duckling. No problem,” Bucky points out. “Now back to business. I need to get some more things for Ducky later…”

Tags in reblog.

[unfortunate-brat]

You’re Mine | guitarist!ryomen sukuna x latina!reader

pairing: guitarist!ryomen sukuna x latina!reader

synopsis: you may have left the club with someone else but sukuna knows you’ll never be satisfied unless its him.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: slight pussy inspection, drinking, smoking, dirty talk, degrading words, obsession, jealousy, talk of pregnancy, implication of choking, sukuna is in denial, toxic relationship, sukuna is not a romantic,

yazzy's comments: so its between sukuna and jensen ackles for brainrot. truly i’m fucked if i ever encounter being sandwiched between them. artist is Marcellet19 on twitter !!

18+, must have age in bio to interact. minors and ageless accounts will be blocked !!

💌 follow @unfortunate-bratfics for just new posted imagines !!

his eyes look into the crowd as each finger chooses the right tune for the song’s melody. it’s the first time sukuna’s sung in front of a big group of people, let alone outside of his own room. gojo advised him to picture everyone naked to help ease the nerves but that only makes the guitarist disgusted. besides there’s only one person who looked good naked.

you were sipping your drink at the bar, eyes elsewhere as sukuna continued to entertain the crowd. he wonders if you’re avoiding his gaze, if the words he’s singing sound familiar to your ears, if you’d maybe look his way for fucking once.

strumming his guitar, he looks down to his fingers moving with perfect precision, this beat was nothing new of course. the pink haired fool had practiced it for three weeks while thinking of you. losing sleep as every wrong note would remind him of that night you screamed at him for being a jackass. that he would never change for the better. that perhaps whatever arrangement the two of you had was pure poison.

those dark eyes focus upon you yet again, unable to stray away from the hand that has wrapped around your waist. how dare you let someone else touch you? sukuna takes a moment to glance away, so no one figures he’s trying to blow someone up with his mind.

with the final note, sukuna glances in your direction yet again and sees the other guy dragging you away towards the bathroom. your laughter seemingly follows behind but its too loud in this place to tell for sure. what he does know is that whoever was pulling you away was a dead man.

he’s about three glasses deep in vodka, opting to just get it without ice as his thoughts are haunted by your face. there’s no doubt that you haven’t left and are still somewhere with that fucking asshole. as much as sukuna is very much to blame for you being with someone else, he won’t think to apologize.

dark crimson eyes dart to the bathroom where you had seemingly disappeared to, debating whether to get up and drag your ass out or to wait. the buzz running through his body was fueling his thoughts to beat up the guy but he’ll never get to play at this club if that happened. he’ll just have to play the long game.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

meanwhile you had snuck out to the front of the club and shared a cigarette with the stranger from earlier. both your bodies huddled close together to fight the chill of the night.

normally you didn’t smoke but after a couple drinks, the craving overpowered your brain. luckily this guy had a whole pack and for now, you enjoy the sting of nicotine coating your airways. it’s better than the sting of a certain someone’s kiss, despite how you somewhat missed them.

there’s no doubt that the song sukuna covered tonight was about you, it’s one of the many he practiced while you were asleep during the rare times that sukuna let you stay over that is. and you could feel his eyes burning a hole into your body, assuming that he knew you were with someone else.

“cold sweetheart?” a voice says softly, interrupting your thinking as a warm jacket covers your shoulders. “there, I wouldn't want you to freeze.”

you smiled softly, taking the last drag of the cancerous stick before handing it back to him. “thank you.” the smile he returns makes your knees weak, who knew someone else could do that for you? “you sure you’re not gonna freeze?”

the man lets out a smirk before wrapping an arm around your waist, closing the distance between you both. “nah, i got you to help me with that.” his lips meet yours and you can’t help but kiss back with the same passion. ignoring the cigarette that fell to the floor, being snuffed out by his foot. your arms wrapping around his neck as he chuckles between kisses. “see? feeling warmer already.”

“oh shut up.” pulling away you glance at the cab’s waiting for someone to use their services. “wanna head to my place?”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

sukuna doesn’t sleep, something in his brain telling him that you were up to no good. if he could drive, he’d head to your place. toss you on the bed and make you remember who could make you scream the loudest. paint that pretty skin of yours with bite marks and various hickies. make you so stupid all you can blabble out is his name.

running a hand through his spiky strands of pink, sukuna glances at the time on his phone. it’s already six am and a whole night passed without him realizing. guess his thoughts were too deep.

with a groan, he grabs something basic, sweats and a black hoodie before heading out of his apartment. alcohol may make his ability to drive out of the question but walking won’t. you did live a bit far but his determination will fuel his energy. and if anything, sukuna was gonna make you take him back. even if it’ll take a couple rounds of sex to do so.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

there’s a pounding at your door and despite you not wanting to get up, your neighbors might start complaining. so with not so graceful steps, you rise from the warmth of your bed to the door. wrapping a silk robe around your figure as all you slept with was panties. finding a tall and dark figure standing in your doorway, the stench of vodka oozing off his skin.

“you gonna let me in or what?” his eyes stare into your own, taking note that you were pretty much naked underneath the silk.

“it’s six in the morning, can’t this wait?” you whine, rubbing one of your eyes as sukuna pushes past you. “i’m tired.”

he freezes before slowly turning around as you shut the door. “tired from what?” and within seconds sukuna has you pinned against the wooden door, one hand resting at your throat. “from faking with him? or did he know what he was doing?” Your hands are powerless against his own as they remove your robe, shifting down to the lace barely covering your cunt. “no marks, is he too scared to hurt you or what?”

you can’t fight him, nor stop his actions as the buzz from earlier is still in your veins. as your judgment isn’t in its best state and old feelings are resurfacing. it had been three months since he last touched you like this. you had mostly avoided him of course but how long could you resist him entirely?

your body is thrown down onto the mattress, legs spread apart as sukuna rips the lace covering the last inch of you in two. rough and callused fingers spreading your folds open as he chuckles darkly. “look at my beautiful girl, she looks abused. guess he did know what he was doing huh?” you can’t help but look away, biting back the moan that threatens to escape you.

his thumb swipes through the arousal that began to pool out, bringing it to his mouth for a quick taste. a mixture of your sweet juices and a bit of saltiness greeting his taste buds. “hmm, you always were such a slut for creampies.” he takes a moment to look up at you, noting how you chose to look away. “what, you hate me now?” a harsh slap against your folds makes you whimper as he grins. “that’s not what this pussy thinks and you know it.” another slap, followed by three more make you whine and the shame pools in your stomach.

his free hand grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to meet. “you can fuck anyone, act like it’ll be enough but we both know the truth at the end of the day.” there’s no warning when his tip greets your entrance, you hadn’t even noticed his sweats were off. “this pussy is mine and i don’t have any issue reminding you. nor do i care his cum is still inside.” he pushes inside, bottoming out as you writhe and squirm under his towering frame. “let’s see which one gets you pregnant first.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Please note; I do not allow translations or redistributions of my work by anyone else except myself. MDNI, if your account is ageless or empty, I will block you !! Minors are NOT welcome here.

[heliosunny]

If that okay, can I please get yandere The Herta x reader x Ruan Mein (poly headcanon)

I have a whole plot for a fic. Maybe i'll give some headcanons in the near future.

Yandere!The Herta x Reader x Yandere!Ruan Mei

Herta has found a way to stop time around a living person, keeping them in a state of eternal beauty. Ruan Mei, on the other hand, has found a way to slow biological processes to an unnatural degree. The problem? You are the test subject.

The sterile chill of Herta Space Station was an ever-present reminder of the artificial world you had become trapped in. A cold, lifeless place where the pursuit of knowledge outweighed the warmth of human connection.

And yet, despite the vastness of the station, you felt suffocated.

Two pairs of eyes—one sharp and calculating, the other deceptively soft—never left you.

Herta sat at the edge of a console, swinging her legs lazily as she gazed at you. Boredom, as she often claimed, was the only reason she paid attention to you.

Across the room, Ruan Mei hummed softly as she adjusted a set of data on her floating screen. Unlike Herta, her smile was warm, almost gentle, but the way she looked at you like you were a rare, fragile specimen—sent a shiver down your spine.

You were their test subject and you had no way out.

“You should be honored” Herta said matter-of-factly, hopping down from the console. Her boots made no sound against the pristine floor as she approached you. “I don’t usually care about humans, but you… you are an exception.”

Your breath hitched as she reached out, cool fingers tracing the side of your face with a detached curiosity. “Such a fragile existence” she mused. “But don’t worry. I’ll preserve you. You won’t have to wither away like the others.”

From behind, you felt Ruan Mei’s presence before she even spoke. A gentle hand slid over your shoulder, pulling you into an almost comforting embrace. “Herta’s methods are too harsh, don’t you think?” Ruan Mei whispered near your ear, her voice honeyed, but laced with something darker. “Freezing you like one of her dolls? That’s too cruel… I would never treat you so coldly.”

“You’re lying” you said, barely above a whisper.

Ruan Mei laughed softly, fingers stroking your hair as if you were a cherished pet. “Oh, I would never lie to you.” She tilted her head. “I simply want to preserve you properly. A slow, careful process… where you remain alive, untouched by time. Isn’t that better?”

Herta sighed dramatically. “You’re going to ruin my fun, Ruan Mei.” She leaned against a terminal, arms crossed. “If I freeze them now, they’ll be perfectly unchanging. They’ll be mine forever.”

“But they won’t be able to feel, Herta” Ruan Mei countered, her fingers tightening ever so slightly in your hair. “What’s the point of preserving something if it loses its warmth?” She turned her gaze back to you, her smile deepening. “You don’t want that, do you?”

You swallowed hard. Both options were cages, just in different forms.

Herta tapped her chin. “Fine. I’ll let them keep their warmth…” Her lips curled into a smirk. “But only if they stay still.”

You didn’t get the chance to react before a chilling sensation crawled up your legs. Your muscles stiffened, a numbing cold locking your limbs in place. Panic surged through you as you tried to move, but your body refused to respond.

Ruan Mei tsked, kneeling beside you. “Herta, that’s cheating.” She ran her fingers over your frozen arm, sighing. “You always want to break your toys too quickly.”

“They’ll still be aware” Herta said, shrugging. “I’m not completely heartless.”

You gasped as warmth slowly returned to your fingers which is Ruan Mei’s doing. Her methods were different. Instead of outright freezing you, she manipulated your biology, altering the very essence of your body to prolong its state.

Neither option was mercy.

“You’ll belong to one of us in the end” Ruan Mei whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “So be good and choose wisely, dear.”

Your heart pounded as both women loomed over you.

You had to leave.

Your hands trembled as you slowly sat up on the research table, muscles aching from the forced stillness. Across the room, Herta and Ruan Mei were distracted- arguing, again.

“Y/n keeps resisting” Ruan Mei sighed, running a hand through her long hair. “If you keep pushing too hard, she’ll break.”

Herta, as always, looked unimpressed. “They should be grateful. I’m offering them something no other human could achieve—perfection.” She turned, glancing at you. “And yet, they keep struggling. Honestly, it’s annoying.”

This was your chance.

You exhaled softly before moving. With quiet steps, you pushed off the table, heading toward the exit. You had no plan, only instinct.

Just a little further...

“Ah-ah.”

A sudden weight pulled at your wrist, stopping you mid-step. Ruan Mei’s fingers curled gently around you, deceptively soft, like silk tightening into steel.

She sighed, her voice laced with amusement. “Where do you think you’re going, dear?”

You didn’t answer. You rarely did. Words were wasted on them. Instead, you yanked your arm back, hard.

For a split second, Ruan Mei’s eyes widened, surprised by your defiance. You twisted, shoving against her, forcing her grip to loosen. It worked—barely. You broke free, stumbling backward.

Herta tilted her head, intrigued. “Oh? Finally showing some fight?”

You ignored her, making a break for the door. Just a few more steps. Just a little... Something cold is approaching

Not the air, not fear, but Herta’s power. It wrapped around your body like invisible chains, locking your movements in place.

You clenched your teeth, muscles burning as you fought against it. Move. Move. MOVE.

Herta sighed. “Tsk. You’re being difficult.” She flicked her fingers, tightening the hold. “Why do you keep running? There’s no escape.”

Your breathing was uneven, but you still managed a glare.

Ruan Mei chuckled, stepping closer. “You’re so stubborn.” She brushed her fingers along your jaw, tilting your face toward her. “But I know, deep down, you care for us. That’s why you won’t say it outright… You don’t want to hurt our feelings, right?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line.

She wasn’t completely wrong.

Despite everything, despite the cage they forced you into—some part of you still cared. It made it harder to fight, harder to hurt them. And they knew that.

Herta sighed, lowering her hand. The freezing hold on your body vanished, sending you collapsing to your knees.

“You’re interesting” she muttered. “Annoying, but interesting.”

The cold grip of Herta’s power had left, but the phantom sensation still clung to your limbs like frostbite. Your body ached from the strain, yet you refused to show it.

Ruan Mei’s fingers remained against your cheek, her touch deceptively warm. “You’re so tense” she murmured, tilting her head. “Are you afraid of us?”

There was no point in answering. They'll do as they pleased anyway.

Your silence made Ruan Mei smile, as if she found your resistance adorable. “Oh, dear, we’re not your enemies” she crooned. “You’re just confused.”

Herta scoffed from behind. “They’re not confused. They just don’t appreciate what we’re doing for them.”

Your fingers twitched against the cold floor.

What you’re doing for me?

Your lips parted slightly, but no words escaped. You weren’t one for talking, and even if you were, what could you possibly say that would change their minds?

So, instead, you acted. Your body surged forward. Not toward Herta or Ruan Mei, but toward the small, sharp scalpel lying on the nearby counter.

Ruan Mei gasped, momentarily caught off guard by your sudden movement. Herta’s eyes flickered with intrigue, her hand rising just a fraction.

You snatched the scalpel in a tight grip, pivoting swiftly.

Ruan Mei’s expression faltered for the first time. “You wouldn’t.”

You would.

The small blade pressed lightly against your own neck—just enough to break the skin. A thin line of warmth dripped down your collarbone.

If they wouldn’t let you go… then you would take the one thing they refused to control. Your own life.

For the first time, true panic flashed in Ruan Mei’s eyes. “No—! Stop, dear, please.”

Herta’s entire body stiffened. “You’re being unreasonable” she muttered, but there was something off in her voice. Frustration? Fear?

Your grip on the scalpel remained firm. You weren’t bluffing.

For the first time, they had lost control.

The realization made your heart pound—not from fear, but from hope.

“I—” Ruan Mei swallowed hard, taking a step closer. “Put it down, sweetheart. Please.” Her voice, usually laced with amusement, now trembled. “We just want to protect you. You matter to us.”

You didn’t react. You just pressed the blade slightly deeper.

A small sound escaped Ruan Mei. “No, no, no—” She reached for you, panic overriding her usual grace. “Let me help, love—”

That moment of desperation—that single second of hesitation—was all you needed. With your free hand, you snatched the vial from the counter beside you, a small, forgotten bottle of one of Ruan Mei’s biological solutions. You didn’t know what it did. You didn’t care. With a swift motion, you threw it to the ground.

The glass shattered. A thick, burning chemical filled the air.

Ruan Mei gasped, stumbling back as the fumes stung her eyes. Herta hissed, raising an arm to shield her face. You ran.

Your legs screamed in protest, but you forced them forward, through the haze, through the pain—toward the exit.

Your chance. Your only chance.

But your body froze mid-step, a suffocating cold locking your limbs in place.

Herta’s voice was eerily calm. “You just had to make things difficult, didn’t you?”

Ruan Mei coughed behind her, her voice trembling. “Darling… why would you do that?” Her tone was no longer sweet. It was shaken. Frightened.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your breath shallow. So close. You had been so, so close.

Tears pricked Ruan Mei’s eyes, but her lips curved into something unnerving. “You almost broke my heart...” she whispered, stepping forward.

Herta clicked her tongue. “We’ll have to restrain them better next time.”

Your vision blurred as the ice tightened around you, swallowing you whole.

You were no longer sure how much time had passed.

The constant experiments, the whispered reassurances, the subtle shifts in your body, it had all blurred into something… different. Your thoughts weren’t as sharp as before. Most important of all, you stopped trying to escape. Not because you didn’t want to. But because… the thought of leaving felt wrong.

You hated how your hands no longer trembled when Herta ran cold fingers through your hair. You hated how your body no longer flinched when Ruan Mei pressed a kiss against your temple, murmuring praises.

You hated that when they told you to sit still, you obeyed.

You hated that you couldn’t tell if it was by choice anymore.

The incident was insignificant.

Ruan Mei had been handling a delicate set of biological samples when a sudden alert blared through the lab, startling her just enough for a sharp glass vial to shatter against her palm.

A thin line of red trickled down her fingers.

You moved on instinct. Your hands reached for hers before you could stop them. Gently—almost tenderly, you turned her palm upward, examining the wound.

“…Oh?”

Ruan Mei blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

You didn’t speak. You rarely did. Instead, you reached for a nearby cloth, pressing it against the cut with practiced care. The warmth of her skin against yours was unsettlingly familiar.

She let you.

Herta, watching from the side, smirked. “How interesting.”

You didn’t react. You focused, wrapping Ruan Mei’s hand with slow, steady movements. Your fingers trembled slightly, but not from fear.

It was muscle memory.

The act of caring, of tending to wounds, it had always been a part of you. Even now, even after everything, that part remained.

Ruan Mei chuckled, breaking the silence. “My, my… you really are sweet, aren’t you?”

Your hands froze for a fraction of a second.

Then—warm fingers brushed against your cheek.

You flinched.

Ruan Mei’s smile deepened. “How adorable.”

Herta swung her legs over the console, tilting her head. “It seems all that time adjusting you has finally paid off.”

A chill ran down your spine.

Ruan Mei giggled, curling her now-bandaged fingers around your own. “You didn’t even think before tending to me, dear.” Her voice was honeyed.

Your heart pounded.

No...no, no, no.

This wasn’t right.

This wasn’t you.

But as Ruan Mei leaned in, her lips ghosting over your forehead, and as Herta smirked knowingly, you knew it was too late.

[crystalandbow]

FEBRUARY MESSAGES FOR YOU

hi! welcome back

ik its been loonngg anyways just pick the pile that calls you and lets begin

PILES:

< PILE 1 >

THEME AND FOCUS

(the world, 8 of wands, 5 of pentacles. full moon in Scorpio - breathe through the tension)

I feel change right off the bat. The World as your theme shows that a major cycle is reaching completion, bringing discomfort along itself. The Wheel of Fortune tried to pop out of the deck, signaling that this shift is not random; it’s part of a greater plan. But endings, even the necessary ones, rarely feel easy. There may be moments of resistance, where you feel trapped. Which is absolutely okay. What's important is that you sit with it, learn what you need to, and allow the transition to unfold. Nothing about this phase can be rushed or avoided.

For your focus we have the 8 of Wands which is a call to action. Change is already in motion, and avoidance will only make it harder. Expect fast-moving developments—messages, opportunities, or decisions that require your immediate attention. There’s no space for hesitation now. Whatever you’ve been waiting for is accelerating, and how you respond will set the tone for what comes next.

The 5 of Pentacles suggests this won’t be a smooth ride. Emotionally, financially, or spiritually, you might feel the weight of this transition. But the Full Moon in Scorpio reminds you: pressure creates transformation. There is intensity in the air—desire, tension, even restlessness. You may feel drawn toward something (or someone) with an almost magnetic force. Don’t suppress it, but also don’t let it consume you. This is a test of self-awareness. How you channel this energy really really matters.

< PILE 2 >

What’s most important now is balance. When emotions run high, it’s easy to focus on loss, uncertainty, or what feels out of reach. But this is not the time to spiral—it’s the time to recalibrate. Instead of asking, Why is this happening? ask, What is this clearing space for? This is the moment before renewal. The discomfort will pass, and when it does, you’ll see that this was never about loss—it was about making room for what’s next.

Hope it resonates do lmk your thoughts below! See you next time

Okay I like how well the cards flow into each other and just how clear the message is.

THEME AND FOCUS

(8 of swords, the emperor, hermit. first quarter moon in Pisces- honour your feelings, new moon in Virgo- trust all will be well)

This month carries a sense of mental entrapment, yet also the structure and discipline needed to break free.

With the 8 of Swords as your theme, there is a strong feeling of being stuck—whether due to self-doubt, overthinking, or external restrictions. However, this is more of a mental prison than a real one. The way forward exists, but right now, it may not feel obvious. The challenge is recognizing where you’re limiting yourself and where you need to shift your perspective.

Your focus, The Emperor, calls for structure, control, and decisive action. Where 8 of Swords represents hesitation, The Emperor represents authority and order. This is about taking responsibility for your situation rather than feeling powerless against it. Even if things feel uncertain, discipline and clear thinking will be your strongest allies. There is no room for avoidance—this is about stepping up and setting firm boundaries, both with yourself and others.

The message from The Hermit and the First Quarter Moon in Pisces is clear: your emotions matter, but they shouldn’t consume you. If you’ve been suppressing what you truly feel, this is the time to acknowledge it. Pretending to be unaffected will only create more internal tension. That said, there is a fine line between honoring your emotions and getting lost in them. Reflection is important, but so is perspective. Look at the bigger picture before reacting.

< PILE 3 >

The New Moon in Virgo reassures you that everything is unfolding in divine timing. Patience is key. There may be a strong desire for immediate resolution, but forcing things won’t lead to the outcome you want. Instead, focus on what you can control—your actions, your mindset, and how you contribute to the world around you. Small, practical efforts will be more effective than overanalyzing the unknown.

Hope it resonates do lmk your thoughts below! See you next time

This month is about movement, ambition, and emotional balance. There’s an undeniable fire beneath the surface—excitement, restlessness, and a desire to push forward. But how you direct this energy will determine your results.

THEME AND FOCUS

(page of wands, knight of swords, king of cups. first quarter moon in cap- unleash your kindest self, last quarter moon in Gemini- clear your mind)

With the Page of Wands as your theme, you will be stepping into a period of curiosity, inspiration, and new beginnings. There’s a sense of exploration here—whether it’s a new idea, project, or mindset. The energy is fresh and exciting, but pages represent learning stages, meaning there’s still much to figure out. Stay open, stay eager, but don’t rush without understanding where you're headed.

Your focus, Knight of Swords, demands swift action and determination. This is a card of sharp intellect, rapid movement, and a strong desire to chase your goals. However, speed without strategy can lead to recklessness. The challenge this month is to balance enthusiasm with clarity—move with purpose, but don't let impatience cloud your judgment. Stay focused, but avoid tunnel vision.

The message from the King of Cups and the First Quarter Moon in Capricorn is about emotional control and kindness. While ambition is necessary, forcing things or being too hard on yourself (or others) will only drain your energy. Discipline is important, but it shouldn’t come at the cost of joy. A balanced approach—one that combines logic, emotion, and patience—will get you much further than rigid expectations.

The Last Quarter Moon in Gemini urges you to clear your mind. Overthinking, anxiety, or repetitive thoughts could be holding you back. Instead of dwelling on uncertainties, take a step back. Organize your thoughts, talk things out, and refocus on what you do want rather than what you fear. The mind is a powerful tool, but left unchecked, it can become its own worst enemy.

Hope it resonates do lmk your thoughts below! See you next time

[stargazedwinchester]

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `thrifting, sam winchester

Summary: You take Sam thrifting. Word Count: 831 Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader I absolutely love thrifting, so I thought Sam would be the one that’s the most willing out of the brothers to join! <3 Plus it's a sense of normalcy for once lol

Initially, Sam insisted that you didn’t need to go thrifting. In fact, he tried to hold you back, just in case you were to get hurt without either of the brothers there.

You had practically begged Sam to join you, ‘just this one time,’ you’d plead. ‘Please, Sammy, come with me. You’ll love it.’

After a lot of consistent talk, he gave in. You even insisted on driving there yourself, just so he could relax before you talk his ear off about how good thrifting actually is.

You arrive there early, knowing that sometimes the queue can feel like it’s miles long. Sam rubs his eyes, the redness and bed head indicate he’s still tired. He yawns. “How much longer will this take? I’m bored already,” he groans, and you shove him playfully. “Quit moaning, Winchester. The fun hasn’t even begun yet.” You say, and he huffs like a little kid.

As you walk inside, people clamour to the baskets and carts, darting through the store to ensure they get the best deals. Whilst you, you take your time as you know that rushing means you won’t find the hidden treasures. Sam follows close behind you. Acknowledging Sam’s moodiness, you B-Line straight to the men’s section, instantly searching through sweaters and jackets. You flick through multiple unique items of clothing. “What about this one?” You ask him, picking a muted light blue Nike hoodie, the logo embroidered in the middle with ‘NIKE’ written above it. Sam’s head turns quickly, gently taking the hoodie from you. “Wow, this is nice, actually…” He examines it, holding it up to his torso. “It looks exactly like the one I had back in college.”

“See? This is exciting! Now you can relive your college years. Which was many, many years ago.”

“Hey,” Sam whines playfully, folding the hoodie and placing it in the cart. You slide through more items, finding another Nike hoodie, this time in black. Sam didn’t look it over this time before putting it into the cart.

After finding a few unique pieces for Sam’s wardrobe, you move upward toward the jackets and coats. It feels like there are thousands of Carhartt-style jackets, all similar shades of brown. You watch him as he searches through himself, and you take a quick gander before he lands on something quite rare. The tag reads ‘Carhartt’. The label itself is hand-sewn into the back of the jacket, stamped with 1980 underneath the brand name. Your eyes widen and you hold it up to Sam, who’s still searching through the garments. His head turns to you, pulling a ‘wow, that’s-a-really-nice-jacket’ face. He gently takes the coat from you, taking it off the hanger and puts it on. He can’t hide his smile as it fits his frame almost perfectly. The right amount of bagginess on the underarm, the length just reaching his hips. Sam usually has trouble finding the right clothes that are long enough for him, so this is an amazing find.

After just over an hour of searching for Sam, it’s your turn. The pair of you head over to the women’s section, the bright colours instantly catching your eye. You sift through the pinks, blues and whites - before settling on the darker, earthier colours. As nice as it would be to be able to wear lighter colours, you feel as if you wouldn’t actually get a chance to wear the prettier clothes. You know it’s best to wear darker colours for hunts, so you blend in easier.

You pick up a lovely maroon, deep wine slim fit v-neck vest. You look it over, and it’s in nearly perfect condition. Without thinking more of it, you put it in your cart. “Y/N,” Sam calls, and you turn around. He’s further down the aisle, holding up a pair of vintage jeans. They’re flared at the bottom, the pockets at the back display a beautiful array of embellished sequins, creating a cross that covers the whole pockets. The front pockets have inner pockets with buttons on them, a swirl pattern embroidered with lighter and darker denim. You swear you can feel your eyes fall out of your head. “Sam, what the hell,” you exclaim, walking toward him with an excited grin on your face. He laughs at you. “They’re gorgeous.” You say, aligning the jeans with your hips, measuring whether they can fit. Either way, you throw them in your cart. They’re too good to pass up. Sam clearly has a keen eye for unique items of clothing.

You both enter the Impala, a couple of enormous bags taking up the back seat. “You happy to be done?” You ask Sam, and he pauses. “Honestly? That was fun. I take back my grumpiness from this morning.”

“Yeah, you better, ‘cause you’re coming with me all the time now. You’re my good luck charm.” You nudge him, and he rolls his eyes blithely, with a smirk on his face. Your lonely shopping days are finally over.

[multiheadcanons]

TF2 MERCS ARGUING

scout: scout wins arguments because he talks so fast you can’t keep up. will ask fifty questions and as you’re answering the first one he’s demanding answers for the other forty-nine. he would be an almost admirable debater if it weren’t for the fact that he won’t slow down, shut up, and hear the other side out to formulate a rebuttal; but because he essentially refuses to do so, he misses vital information in the argument.

soldier: soldier doesn’t argue. soldier gives orders and you either follow them or are insubordinate and will be treated as such. he has no interest in arguing why he’s right, just know he’s right, shut the fuck up, and do what you’re told. honestly, if you’re at a point where you’re arguing with soldier; you fucked up somewhere in your day to lead you there. it’s not like soldier is telling you to disarm a bomb. okay, well he might be, but you could let the damn thing explode and he’ll take that! most of his orders are so boringly easy to follow, even when you think they’re not; that you could ignore them and they still get done.

pyro: pyro doesn’t argue unless they’re getting blamed for something they know they didn’t do. then it is a court trial. gets very heated very fast, and ends up throwing their hands up and stewing like a child. they’ll take the blame, but they’re not happy with anyone about it. it’s better to avoid them at that point, because then they’ll argue with anyone. it’s hard to break through to pyro when they feel like it’s them against the team. those are their buds, and they don’t like getting blamed for things they didn’t do. they’re willing to take accountability, but if they didn’t do it then they didn’t do it.

demo: demo is one of the better mercs to argue with because he will at least give you an opportunity to state your case, and if he finds fault in what he did he’ll admit it. but if he didn’t, then that’s all that arguing out the window. he’ll tell you to take it somewhere else. the only people who get no mercy is medic and spy, because he knows they just like to argue when they’re bored. he’ll tell you scout did it if it gets you off his back with an argument. he already fights as a job. he has no interest in fighting for fun.

heavy: heavy’s mean when he argues. one of the few times he curses and hurls insults directly at people. but again, if you find yourself in a position where you’re arguing with heavy, you fucked up somewhere in your day to lead you there. heavy is an easy guy to get along with, he is a man willing to communicate. so to bypass all calm means of communication and bring him a problem by arguing with him will get you called a dumbass, a fucking idiot, a pathetic moron; especially because he keeps receipts and alibis, so if you’re accusing him of something you better have undeniable proof it was him. and if you are stupid enough to argue with him in public you’ll regret it. if he doesn’t elect to make you cry outright as he harshly shuts you down, the growl in his throat of him telling you to shut it should be enough to frighten you into turning that into a private conversation.

engineer: do not argue with this man. he gets in your face, he is insulting, he is condescending, he’s flat out wrong half the time, and even when he’s right it does not justify his behavior in the slightest. arguing is a blood sport that isn’t about right and wrong. it’s about domination. and it’s a sport he’s very good at. that is, if he doesn’t gaslight you into thinking that your issue with him is actually an issue with yourself. there is a reason anyone who associates themselves in any way with engie have nothing but positive things to say. he is not a man with a survivable bad side.

medic: see, is it arguing if you’re not even sure you’re arguing? don’t argue with this freak either. it’s the most fucked up game of metaphorical poker. you see his face in flashes, the momentary sneer, the brow furrow, his lips very clearly pull down, but you blink and his face is neutral again. he’s making scathing claims in an even more chipper tone than normal. then he laughs. but the room is tense. it’s easier to back out of an argument with medic than it is the other mercs, because the air around medic is normally so intense that you truly never know where exactly you stand with him on a given day, so it’s easier to go “actually doc, you’re being weird. i’m gonna go.”

sniper: a relatively normal guy to argue with. he groans, he grumbles, but he listens before he shoots back. however, the second he gets whiff that you’re wrong, or he thinks he’s worn you down enough that you’re willing to admit you might be coming at the wrong person sideways, he’s an opportunist with it. he’ll hit you with that “this is why we double check our sources and don’t believe random shit we’re told, dumbass”. he is also very fast to back out of an argument the second he gets the thought that he might be wrong. it’s an immediate argument ender. he says “oop— nope i’m wrong, im sorry.” and will quickly find somewhere else to be that is not in your line of sight.

spy: it depends how you start the argument that is going to determine how spy argues with you. if you come at him aggressively, he won’t even entertain it. “don’t you lecture me with your thirty dollar haircut.” he uses insults you know you’ve heard from the other mercs before. but they sound so natural coming from him that it’s hard to know who got it from where. he will cut you down in ten words or less every time before he just cloaks and comes up missing. a calmer approach will let him be more open to what you’ve got to say, but at that point is it even an argument? because spy argues for fun. he doesn’t do it for anything less than fun, and he’ll corner you somewhere, or alienate you in a room and ask you a question he knows is going to piss him off just to argue with you. and he pushes. he’ll test your patience with it. and you won’t know (because you’ll be too busy trying to get your own emotional state under control) but he’s having so much fun. sometimes he forgets he works with men, and pushes (particularly the doctor, with a shorter temper than anyone on the team will accurately recall) to the point where it’s a physical fight.