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#and very eyebrow-less 👀
cookiescribble · 9 months
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Getting The Hang Of This “Girlfriend” Thing (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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A/N: ahhh thank you guys so much for such nice feedback on my last fic! đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ» this is just a little blurb that’s a lot less heavy haha. I am working on another hurt/comfort fic though 👀
This was inspired by personal hormonal moodiness this month 😅
-Mod Angel
Summary: Spencer is in a new relationship and is learning that there’s more to it than just facts.
CW: discussion of menstruation, implied smut at the end
~~~
Spencer walked into the BAU, walking right to the kitchen to pour himself some coffee. Penelope, Emily, and JJ were standing around the kitchen and talking. 
They saw him pouring sugar in his coffee and laughed a bit. “What did you get up to last night?” 
He groaned a bit, taking a sip of his coffee. He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Can I
 ask you guys a question? About
 girls?”
They all looked at each other and raised their eyebrows. “Aww, do you need someone to give you ‘the talk?’” JJ asked teasingly.
He rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, not that. I’m doing just fine with that, thank you very much.” Everyone made various disgusted noises, which made him laugh. “No, it’s just
 well, my girlfriend’s on her period, and she was basically doing nothing except snapping at me last night. Did I do something wrong?”
They all looked at each other again. Emily spoke first. “Ohh
 yeah. You probably did something wrong.” She laughed and pointed to his sugar-filled coffee cup. “Did she make you sleep on the couch?”
He sighed and set his mug down. “No. I asked her if she wanted to be alone, but she said that would just make her more upset.” He picked up his mug and took another sip. “I know that women experience fluctuations in estrogen and progesterone levels during menstruation which can cause feelings of irritability and anger, but
”
“Hold on.” Penelope said. “Did you say that to her?”
“I
 might have mentioned it.” He shrugged slightly. “I figured it would comfort her to know the science behind it. She usually loves it when I tell her facts like that.”
Everyone groaned. JJ patted him on the shoulder. “Spence. Did you really think that would comfort a hormonal woman?”
He looked a little confused. “Is there something I’m missing? I’ve never had to deal with a hormonal girlfriend until now.”
“Okay. Then let us tell you what you’re missing” she said. “No one wants to be told that they’re grumpy when they’re on their period. It doesn’t matter if it’s a fact, or if there’s science behind it. That’s like
 poking a bear.”
He hesitated before speaking again. “
 so, it was a bad idea to tell her that eating sugar would increase inflammation in the body that would cause fatigue and irritability?”
Everyone groaned. “Oh my god, you did not say that to her. Please tell me you didn’t say that to her?” Penelope pleaded. 
He shrugged. “I didn’t know that was wrong! Why is that wrong?”
“Look. All the facts in the world could not comfort a hormonal woman.” JJ started. “She doesn’t want to hear why she’s feeling grumpy. She wants you to comfort her. When your girlfriend is on her period, you say nothing about it. Consider this a lesson.”
He groaned and took another sip of coffee. “So, I messed up?”
“Yes.”
“Now what?” He sighed. 
Penelope looked at him very seriously. “You’re going to go home tonight, bring her flowers and chocolate, and apologize. And you’re going to say you learned your lesson.”
He thought for a second before nodding. “Okay. I’ll do that.” He looked at everyone and smiled. “Thank you
 I’m still new to all this, so this has been very helpful.”
There was a chorus of “you’re welcome” and “good luck” before everyone went to start their work day. 

 
When he got home, Spencer walked through the door of the apartment, the handle of a shopping bag hooked over his elbow. “I’m home!” He called out. 
His girlfriend walked into the room and smiled at him. She was wearing loose pajamas and her hair was tied up in a bun. “Welcome home
 what’s in the bag?”
He set the bag down and took out a small bouquet of roses. “These are for you.”
She smiled and took the bouquet from him. “Aw, honey
 they’re beautiful.” She breathed in the floral scent. 
He put up a finger to signal he wasn’t done yet. He pulled out a box of chocolates from the bag. “And
 here. I got you your favorites.”
She smiled bigger and handed him the roses back so she could open the box of chocolates. “Oh, you’re a saint, babe. What’s all this for?”
     He set the roses down gently on the coffee table so he could hug her from behind, resting his head on top of hers. “A peace offering. I
 I’m sorry I was so insensitive last night.”
     She turned around and gave him an apologetic look. “Oh, Spence
 no, that was me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”
“No, no, it’s okay.” He patted her on the shoulders. “I told the girls at work what happened and they gave me a stern lecture.” He laughed quietly. “I’ve just never had a girlfriend before, so I didn’t know the
 etiquette I’m supposed to have during this time.”
She smiled and put the chocolates down so she could hug him. “I know. At least, logically I know that. Emotional brain takes over when I’m hormonal.” 
He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “And I know that now. It’s not something I could’ve learned from a book, so
 it’s a learning curve, I guess.” He laughed again. “I know how to take care of you now.”
She smiled and reached up on her tiptoes so she could kiss him. “You know
 there’s some more period facts I want to tell you.”
He made a face. “Please tell me it’s not that you’re mad at me again.”
She laughed. “No, it’s not that. I think you’ll like this one.” She moved a little closer and ran a finger gently down his arm, making him shiver a bit. “An increase in blood flow to the pelvic region makes
 certain areas more sensitive, leading to an increased libido.” She smirked. “Wanna help me out with that?” 
He blushed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I could do that.” He grinned and leaned down to kiss her. 
She smiled and dragged him to the bedroom, more than happy to teach him something he didn’t know before.
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underdark-dreams · 2 months
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It's finally here, all 7k words of it 👀 Thank you for everyone who read chapter 1, and waited so patiently!
[ch1]
Birds and Bees - Ch.2
Rolan isn't usually the type to accept help. In his defense, Tav is very persuasive—and he is very, very desperate.
Tags: Tailplay, Oral Sex, Biting, NSFW | Word Count: 7.7k [Read on AO3]
Rolan didn’t appear again for the rest of the day.
After their awkward exchange this morning, Tav felt she might be somewhat to blame. She tried to recall the bits of Tiefling etiquette she’d picked up from the Elturians; perhaps touching his tail had crossed some sort of line? Either way, the gesture seemed unthinkably forward to her now. 
Then again
Rolan was the one who’d coiled his tail across her desk like that, its tip nearly brushing her hand as she wrote. She’d never seen him do anything like it before. If she didn't know him so well, she’d have found the move almost flirtatious.
At shop’s close, Cal took charge of locking up the front. Tav caught sight of the large iron keyring he carried and realized that it must be Rolan’s. So his brother had checked in on him today, at least—that gave her a modicum of relief.
Lia pitched in to help wipe down all her equipment and carefully fill the many waiting bottles with her cooled elixir. Tav held her tongue from repeating any of the worries she’d made after Rolan during the day—but it seemed her silence was just as damning.
“Stop fussing,” Lia repeated firmly. “Rolan’s just overdue for a rest. I mean, you saw his face.”
“I did.” Rolan had never been the type to slow down or show weakness easily. To Tav, the fact that he’d willingly taken himself to bed worried her more than anything. “Just promise you won't let him turn down a healer if he needs one?”
“If it comes to that, which it won't,” Lia said down to her work. “I promise we’ll find someone, okay?”
Tav kept her tone teasing as she packed away the sealed bottles in their crate. “Hmm, yes
if only you already knew someone with some knowledge of healing.”
Lia let out a bark of laughter. “Trust me, you’re the last person Rolan wants to see right now.”
The sting of those words took Tav by surprise herself. Lia caught their edge too; she pulled up with a grimace, letting a few drops of antidote dribble onto the desk. “Shit, Tav, I didn't mean it like that.”
“It’s okay,” Tav replied, making a fuss of sealing up the filled crate. The thought made her feel rather less than okay, which she didn't want Lia to see. “I think—I don’t know. I feel like I did something rude today, anyway.”
“Oh?” Lia’s tone was light, but she allowed a conspicuous pause to stretch between them. Tav pushed through a twinge of embarrassment to turn to face her.
“Lia, what would you think if I touched your tail?”
Lia glanced up with an eyebrow cocked. “What, right now?”
“No, just—say I did by accident.”
Lia straightened to take a thoughtful inhale. “I mean
it depends on the context. You and I are friends, I wouldn’t think much of it. Unless you grabbed it up by my backside or something,” she added with a laugh. “It wouldn’t be a big deal. If I’m walking somewhere crowded, lots of people might brush against it unless I’m careful.”
Tav had moved around to reset the rest of her clean glassware as she listened, feeling marginally relieved by the explanation.
Then Lia paused her work again. “Are you saying you touched Rolan’s tail?
“You what now?”
With impeccable timing, Cal skidded to a stop at the edge of the conversation, a heavy lockbox under one arm.
Tav glanced between the two of them. “Yes?” The word came out as a question somehow; her mouth went dry as they stared at her. “Like you said, I didn't think it was a big deal. He laid it on my desk while I was working, so I just kind of—” She mimed a little picking-up motion with her hand.
The siblings exchanged a significant look with each other. 
“What?” Tav felt her face burning and knew the color must be noticeable to either of them. “How does it being Rolan’s tail make it different?”
Cal turned back to her with a frown. “What do you mean he laid it on your desk?”
“I don't know, damn—clearly I’m no expert!” She flailed her arms out a bit. “I just turned around and it was sitting there by my hand, all right?”
Another shared glance.
“That explains it,” Cal decided. It earned him a swift pinch on the arm from his sister. “Ow, hey—”
Tav looked between them again, trying to translate. “Explains what? Seriously, if I offended Rolan somehow, I want to kn—”
“You didn’t,” Lia cut in firmly. “This one here's just an idiot. It’s harder to control your tail when you're sick or tired, and Rolan’s been both, that’s all. I'm sure it was a mistake. And he shouldn't have minded you moving it,” she finished with a decisive nod.
With that, Lia snatched up the filled crate from her with one arm and grabbed her brother’s sleeve with the other. Cal stumbled slightly as she pulled him along, but he wisely held his tongue as they headed for the back stockroom. The hinges creaked shut behind them both.
Tav was left standing alone in the cavernous interior of Sorcerous Sundries, beside the desks that she and Rolan used to comfortably share—not sure if she should feel better or worse.
—
The next morning, Rolan was once again nowhere to be found.
He hadn’t even conjured his projection the way he usually did when occupied with research in the Tower. It was a shame; the shop was unusually busy by midday, and Cal and Lia worked without pause. When she could, Tav left her alchemy just to lend a hand with customers or make runs to the supply room.
She found herself worried to the point of irritation. Was Rolan really so stubborn that he wouldn’t take a potion? Or accept healing from someone he’d claimed was a trusted friend and colleague? She tried and failed not to be hurt by it.
Then again, Rolan had always been the type to shoulder his way through awful things alone while firmly turning down help—particularly from her. His apprenticeship, most recently. The memory made her radiantly angry on his behalf even now.
“Shit—” 
Tav jerked away from the flask and sucked on her freshly scalded thumb. She must have the ratios off again; this recipe wasn’t new to her, but the nuances had escaped her all morning. These sublimates shouldn’t get nearly so hot when mixed.
Might as well admit defeat and review the recipe before she wasted yet another bunch of black oleander. Surely there was a reference text somewhere in Rolan’s library?
Tav glanced around to the front of the shop. Cal was recording a sale at the front desk; Lia was chatting with a very large half-orc over near the conjurement runes. Things seemed well enough in hand. Tav damped the flame at her station and quietly took the stairs for the portal.
For lack of a better word: the library of Ramazith’s Tower was absolutely magical. 
Tav stood breathing in the quiet afternoon sunlight, taking an appreciative look up around her. The collection must be the best one this side of Candlekeep, with all sorts of books on spellcraft, Weave theory, alchemy, religion, the history of Toril—just to scratch the surface. She could think of no hands more deserving than the ones its ownership had fallen into.
Just as Lia mentioned the other day, Rolan had clearly been hard at work reorganizing the place. She ran her fingertips over the books’ spines as she walked around the perimeter of the main floor.
She imagined Rolan with his robe sleeves pushed to his elbows, enthusiastically at work in his book stacks, and bit back a grin. There was something so endearing about his passion for taming disorder. As she walked, she found her gaze drifting to the delicate staircase at the far end of the main floor. It spiraled upward invitingly. 
She’d never been to the upper floors of Ramazith’s Tower—nothing past the library. Certainly she hadn’t stepped foot in any of the private quarters of Rolan or his siblings. She wouldn’t even know which door led to whose.
But her mind wandered readily at the thought of Rolan’s bedroom. What it might look like
smell like. 
No doubt it was packed with shelves of books and scrolls, filled with the scent of fresh parchment and leather-bound volumes. That warm, bookish smell that seemed to be woven into his robes. The fresh hint of cedar from the way he kept his clothes meticulously cleaned and stored. And that other faint spice that she could never identify, but always picked up when he stood close to her.
The same scent that had filled her lungs with dizzy pleasure when he’d hovered close to her yesterday, chin brushing her shoulder and arm circled possessively around her waist— 
She bit her lip as heat pooled between her legs at the memory. She couldn't help it—how very fucking nice it had been to feel Rolan’s elegant hands on her, casually and effortlessly touching, as if he was accustomed to touching her much more often and much more intimately.
It would do no good to dwell on that moment. If anything, the uncharacteristic gesture was just proof of how out-of-sorts Rolan must be feeling. He was her friend, and by all accounts, he’d been too sick to leave his room for days. 
With a sudden burst of determination and a disregard for the consequences, she strode for the stairs.
Taking the curving ascent so rapidly left her dizzy. Tav planted her boots on the landing for a moment, holding onto the railing while she took in her surroundings.
This upper hall was also quietly sunlit, filled with fine carpeting and oak paneled walls; but the atmosphere was somehow less grand than the cavernous library below. More intimate. 
Two doors stood on both ends of the hall. Hazarding a guess, she stepped to the closest one on her left. Its heavy oak panels swung forward with the slightest touch.
Not a bedroom at all, but a bath—and a tremendously fine one at that. All the fixtures seemed to be wrought from polished gold. Underneath a towering stained glass window stood the deepest, widest clawfoot tub she’d ever seen.
As she gazed around, Tav caught sight of her reflection in a large glass above the sinks. Her hair was all frizzy flyaways from a day over her potion work. Indulging a bit of vanity, she paused to tame it with her fingers.
One of Rolan’s many endearing habits was his dedication to fastidiousness. Never a hair out of place, horns polished and shining, robes immaculately pressed—knowing him, with a bit of the Weave.
She must look like some sort of wild hedge witch by comparison. Tav had never minded life in the wilds as a wayward adventurer, even after the Elder Brain was felled to the Chionthar. It was part of what drew her to the career of a traveling alchemist. 
But there were moments
most of them in this Tower, with Rolan and his siblings. Sharing a meandering dinner at a real table with actual chairs. Sitting with Rolan out on the starlit balcony, discussing blood alchemy over a glass of wine as they watched the harbor.  
Tav forced her hands still and stared back at her reflection. 
“What do you want?” She muttered to herself. The Tav in the mirror had no answer. But in her mind, one softly bloomed.
Over the past months, her feelings had tumbled forward faster than she could keep up with them. Seeing Rolan, talking with him about anything and everything, working beside him in quiet moments—she found those were the moments she looked forward to most.
His offer to turn one of the Tower’s empty vaults into a greenhouse for her. Essentially giving her a permanent place in his home, if she wanted it. Was it stupid to hope that he wanted more, too?
As she stood frozen silent in the confines of her lavish surroundings, a muffled sound came from her right.
She hadn't noticed the second door past the bathtub; presumably connecting to one of the bedrooms. She realized it most likely led to Rolan’s.
She stepped toward the heavy oak paneling and raised a hand to knock. As she did, more muffled noises came from within. Tav hesitated, questioning whether she should—then leaned in to press one ear to the wood.
There were the sounds of labored breathing, as if from pain or exertion. She strained her ear harder. There was something almost
rhythmic in it.
And then—she could swear—she heard Rolan's voice groan her name aloud.
A shock of heat ran through her chest, prickling up her neck and diving between the cleft of her legs. The rapid, hot ache at her core made her gasp out in surprise, then clap a hand to her mouth lest he heard. She felt her cheeks burning with realization.
Whatever she had expected to find by wandering up here
this had never been on the list. All she saw in her mind’s eye was Rolan, sweating and panting and desperate. And that thought filled her with overwhelming want in response.
Tav pushed herself back from the door with a jolt. She turned and ran, not knowing or caring whether the ring of her footsteps on tile carried past the door. Her pulse pounded against her ears as she rushed out of the room and back for the staircase. 
Even before Tav’s foot hit the third stair, she knew she was headed for the Elfsong. And a very stiff fucking drink.
—
Day passed to night and back to day again in a feverish jumble. Like a vessel adrift in a vast ocean, Rolan was passed along wave after wave of searing impulse.
Had his ruts always been this overwhelming, and he’d just forgotten? Or was there something different about the drives this time around? 
Even the little dignities were stripped away, one by one. He began by conjuring mage hands at first, but his concentration faltered too many times at the cusp. He finally just settled for his own grip. Desperate sounds rose in his chest each time he neared his next finish, the likes of which he’d never utter voluntarily.
And he quickly gave up on clothes altogether. He lay naked and spread-eagle on his sheets and tried to sleep when he could, before his demanding cock inevitably twitched back to life again. The fever turned his dreams shockingly lewd whenever he did manage to drift off.
By sunset, another strong wave of need was pulsing through his core, demanding his attention. Rolan lay back against his pillows and groaned open-mouthed as he stroked himself.
Even slick with oil, the friction between his hand and the raw, overstimulated ridges of his cock bordered on painful. His finish danced out of reach to the back of his mind.
With an impatient growl, he flipped over to his knees and snatched up a feather pillow, folding it into a sleeve for his cock. A crude solution—but with his first few thrusts, the cool softness of the silk caused a moan of relief to rise in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut as he fucked his own pillow in a desperate chase for relief.
And behind his eyelids, there she was again.
Tav appeared there so easily now. He’d tried to fight it at first—ashamed to be using her like this, without her knowledge or consent—but he found that nothing satisfied his urges so well as when he pictured her on his cock.
So he closed his eyes and imagined Tav
pliant, eager, hungry. Legs spread and center dripping with desire for him. The shameful depth of his need faded away as he fantasized her own. How her eyes might shine as she panted and gasped under him, calling him by name and begging him to fuck her and fill her and mark her as his—
What would she sound like as he took her? He conjured the timbre of her voice, always warm and musical, now canting to a whine as the ridges at his base slammed against her with each thrust.
Pressure coiled rapid and hot at his loins. Rolan slid off the mattress with legs braced, the pillow cast aside, and tugged frantically at his stiff length again. His tail arched and flicked behind him.
Through clenched eyelids he saw Tav laid at the foot of his bed, hair splayed in a messy crown against his sheets as she cried out his name. Her legs crossed behind his flanks to hold him deep inside her tight wet heat—
‘Rolan—’ She moaned louder, her heels digging into his lower back as he took her. Tav gripped two handfuls of the bedding underneath as he thrust relentlessly, chasing more of her heat around his cock, more of the delicious scent at her throat and between her legs—
“Rolan!”
“Fuck—” With a strangled gasp, Rolan’s hips stuttered one last time as his come spilled in ropes to the floor. Panting and shaking, he caught hold of the bed post with one hand as he frantically worked out the rest of his finish with the other. His head spun with the force of it.
But as he opened his eyes and his vision cleared, so did that cottony feeling in his ears. Someone was rapping insistently on the door to his room.
“Rolan, we need to talk—” Even muffled by the heavy wood, Tav’s voice was unmistakable.
“Fuck,” Rolan hissed again, this time with enough wits about him to panic. How much of that last performance could she hear through the door? He snatched up the nearest towel to wipe himself, then tripped away toward the pile of clothes on the floor that had lain untouched since yesterday.
“Go away,” he called tersely, nevertheless yanking the trousers up over his hips. Thank hells that last round had left him soft enough he could do up the laces for now.
On the other side of the door, she was undeterred. “I’m not leaving till I’ve seen you.”
Rolan cursed as one of his horns snagged the ties at the neck of his shirt. Once the fabric dropped over his torso, he whirled around to take in the state of his room. 
Bedsheets pulled sideways from the mattress; pillows strewn across the floorboards; air thick with the smell of him. Absolute filthy shambles.
Using a rush of energy he couldn't afford, he cast a mass prestidigitation spell on the space. The improvement in the air was immediate. But the resulting light-headedness caused him to stumble forward; he caught himself with a hand braced on the door frame.
“I'm not joking,” Tav called loudly, unaware he was now much closer.
He could have yelled at her to wait outside for another week, then, if he wasn't so sure she was stubborn enough to actually do so. After all, this was the person who’d defeated an Elder Brain and taken on several gods in the process.
That
and he found he badly wanted to see Tav in the flesh. Hearing her voice from just beyond his bedroom door only increased that desire. Rolan’s tail lashed behind him in helpless frustration.
“What do you want?” He asked instead, lowering his voice. No use broadcasting any more of this conversation to the whole Tower.
There was a pause on the other side of the oak paneling. “I’ve barely seen you since I got here,” Tav’s voice replied, matching his volume.
“And?” 
“And I'm worried about you
obviously,” she added. “Cal and Lia said you’re sick. But I’d feel better if we could talk face to face.” Even through the barrier between them, he could hear a strain in her voice. She wasn't lying. 
Rolan rested his horns against his braced forearm with a sigh. “Tav, I swear I'm perfectly fine.”
“Then just open the door a moment. Please, Rolan?”
It was far too pleasant to hear her say his name outside of his own imaginings. Rolan glanced down at himself. Barefoot, shirt untucked, but technically presentable. And not pitching a tent for once in the past twenty-four hours. 
“If I do, will you leave?” 
There was another pause. “If you want me to,” came the reply. He unbolted the latch and drew it open to shoulder width.
The wave of Tav’s scent hit him almost before he registered her face in front of him. The sweetness of it overwhelmed his other senses for a moment. It tested all Rolan’s limited reserves of sanity not to grab her by the waist and pull her body against him.
Unaware of the silent struggle raging in his chest, Tav stood with face tilted up toward his. Her eyes had traveled over his figure immediately, checking him over with a worried little crease between her brows. Something at the side of his head caught her eye; Rolan realized his hair hung loose and rather sweaty, exposing the slender tips of his ears.
Her demeanor changed at the sight. Tav sighed, leaning her head against the flat of the door.
“You’re even handsome with a fever,” she told him softly.
Rolan blinked at her. Perhaps exhaustion and hormones were driving him to hallucinations. “What are you—”
Faster than he could react, her palms landed on either side of his face, and Tav pulled his mouth down to hers.
A burst of colors exploded behind his eyes; the sensation of her lips moving on his kindled the dormant heat in his body to wild blaze. She notched her hands upward as she kissed him, and her fingers slid up along the sensitive tapers of both his ears.
Rolan let out a hungry, animal sound against her mouth. Both hands landed on her back and crushed the line of her body forward into his, leaving no space between them. He could feel the soft hills of her breasts pressing against his chest through clothing. The warm scent rolling off her skin and hair surrounded him with dizzying force.
The higher part of his mind was screaming at him. Rolan desperately tried to focus on what it was saying; as he did, he caught the tang of wine on her lips. The discovery gave him just enough will to pull back from her.
And he did, with one jerking step back into his chambers. “You can’t be here.”
Tav stood panting through parted lips, eyes half-lidded as they traveled over him. Rolan felt flames lick his skin everywhere they moved.
“Why not?” She breathed. “I wanted to see you.”
“You’re drunk,” he told her. He rather felt that way himself, still reeling from the electricity of kissing her.
Tav pouted at that, and Rolan wished to bite that lower lip firmly between his teeth. “I’m not drunk,” she corrected. “I’ve had a drink. There’s a difference.”
“You wouldn’t be here if—”
“If what?” Tav watched him as she took a step closer. Rolan stepped back in tandem, reflexive. She was well over the threshold now. “If I knew what was really happening to you?”
Those words sounded much more knowing than he liked. Rolan stared at her, trying to read into her face. He swallowed against the dry lump of his tongue and went out on a limb. “Which one of them told you?”
Tav shook her head. “Cal and Lia have been nothing but discreet.” 
“Then how could you possibly understand?” He demanded. The very recent discovery of how soft Tav’s lips were was making it very difficult to maintain this conversation. He could still feel the way her body had pressed into him.
One corner of her mouth twitched. “Rolan, I’d like to think I’m not completely oblivious. There have been
signs. And I’ve had a lot of time to think about them. I’ve been at the Elfsong all afternoon, just—thinking.”
At that, Rolan felt his tail twitching nervously behind him. “I see,” he replied. Pivoting, like an idiot, trying to pretend this was a perfectly acceptable conversation to have with the woman who occupied most of his thoughts when he was pleasuring himself. “And you think that I—that my—”
Tav made a quick twisting motion to get around the door. She latched it and drew the bolt closed behind them, then turned back to him.
“A lot of humans have heard rumors about Tieflings,” she confessed. “Some stupid, but some credible. I’m saying this is maybe not the secret that you think it is.” As he watched, a much deeper blush spread over Tav’s cheeks. She glanced away to the side. 
“Rolan
I grew up in the Dales, remember? Around rabbits, and cattle, and oxen. Half my friends lived on farms.”
Her analogy couldn’t be clearer. To hear her lay it out so plainly—Rolan felt the last dregs of his pride shrivel up and die. He gripped two palms over his eyes and let out a groan of abject humiliation, turning away to the middle of the room. 
How early had she connected the dots? The moment she felt him brazenly place a hand around her? Had she known all along that he was locked up here, rutting into every one of his pillows?
“Look, Rolan, I’m sorry—I didn’t know how else to say it—” 
Completely overwhelmed by his embarrassment, he hadn’t heard her follow. When Rolan finally dropped his hands from his face, he turned to find Tav standing very close to his chest.
“And I’m sorry for kissing you before,” she blurted out. “I mean, I’m not sorry for it
I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, to be honest. But it wasn’t fair. I just
wanted to know how you’d react.”
Rolan watched as her chest rose and fell heavily where she stood. The look in her eyes made his blood pound through his veins. He felt an urge to reach out and smooth back her hair to bring her in for another kiss, one he resisted.
“I care about you,” Rolan told her, before he could lose his nerve. “Our friendship. I respect you, Tav, it’s not worth—muddying things with this.” 
He felt fingers lacing through the ones that hung at his side, and despite his words Rolan tightened his grip automatically. Her hand was so pleasantly cool against the heat of his skin.
“Why do you think I’m here?” Tav answered earnestly. “I care about you, too. If I can help, I want to. Please—”
She was so close to him; Rolan breathed shallowly, but the warm scent rolling off her skin and hair nevertheless swept past him with dizzying force.
“You don’t know what you’re offering,” he managed hoarsely.
She didn’t falter. “Then tell me what else you think I should know.”
His senses were growing clouded with her; the offer that had tumbled so easily from her rang in his ears. It made the thread of Rolan’s control stretch dangerously taut.
“I won’t be gentle,” he warned. 
His inadvertent shift in tone changed something in the air between them. There was a crackling energy that hadn't been there a second before.
Tav licked her lips as she watched him. “Good.”
Rolan thought he might melt from the heat that spread across his skin. His tail snapped against the mattress behind him. If she moved a step closer, she’d feel how hard he was in his pants.
“Mating bites,” he went on hoarsely. “I’ll mark you. Quite a lot. I’ll try not to draw blood, but
I can’t promise it.”
Tav nodded. “What else?” She asked, encouraging him to go on. 
Rolan swallowed against the embarrassment. But this was important for her to know. “This time for us, it’s all about
reproduction. We become quite virile.” He nearly choked, but there was simply no other way to put it. “For the urges to pass quicker, I need to come in you.”
Tav let out a throaty hum of approval. His cock twitched in his pants at the sound. “That’s fine, I take preventatives—it’s safe.”
They stood looking at each other for another moment. That shivery, electric feeling buzzed in the air around them. Rolan wondered if she could hear the way his heart drummed against his ribs.
Tav leaned in slightly. “Well
” She said, and her wet tongue passed nervously between her lips again.
That taut thread in his chest snapped in two. Rolan crushed her up against him with a whimper. Arms circling around her waist, he nudged a thigh between her legs and firmly ground their hips together.
Tav matched his eagerness. Their lips crashed together; at the back of his mind, he felt her grip cradling under each of his ears. Her fingertips licked like flame against his scalp.
Even through layers of clothing, he could feel the heat of her. Rolan jerked her hips forward harder against his thigh; the swelling length of his cock pressed against her soft, yielding center. Tav dipped her head back from the kiss, arching into him with a moan, and her fingertips laced at the nape of his neck. 
It offered an irresistible angle at the column of her throat. Rolan’s claws raked back in her hair, pulling it to a tight ponytail. Then he tugged firmly, holding her open as his mouth descended on her neck.
He kissed and sucked along the band of muscle from her ear to the curve of her shoulder, then parted his lips to bite down firmly on her soft flesh. 
“Yes,” Tav moaned in approval above him. Her hips rolled into his, grinding herself against the hard cock straining in his pants. Rolan felt her pulse skip against his mouth. Only when he tasted sweet copper did he pull away, laving his tongue over the crimson pin-pricks of his teeth into her skin.
He took only a moment to admire the trail of marks blooming along her neck. Tav was already pulling him in for another kiss. Their lips crashed together with bruising force; her tongue explored, tasting, searching for proof of her blood against his tongue and moaning against him when she found it.
Her scent filled his mind. Without breaking from her mouth, he plucked open the laces of her pants. Rolan slipped his hand under the waistband, beneath her smalls, and slid two fingers to dip down between her legs. Her folds were shining-slick; as he nudged her in circles, a trickle of her arousal rolled down his fingers. She shivered prettily under his touch.
“You’re soaked,” Rolan groaned against her neck. 
“All because of you,” she breathed without hesitation. “Been wanting this, gods, wanting you for months. Your hands on me—cock in me—”
At the words he withdrew his fingers from her impatiently, then sucked them clean. Her sweet taste on his tongue made his cock ache. She scarcely had time to curse at the sight before Rolan gripped both arms around her waist to lift her into him.
With one quick pivot, he landed her down on the bed with his frame pressed into her. Her legs hung off the edge from the hip down, and he used the position to grind the stiff length in his pants against her cleft.
Even fully clothed, it was maddening. He could feel the wet patch between her legs, and when she arched further into him, a primal growl rumbled in his chest. 
Tav’s fingers were brushing at his sides, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Off,” she panted impatiently.
Rolan tilted back to rip the garment up over his horns, immediately reaching for her own once his was free. He stripped her frantically, ripping her smallclothes in two before he could work them down her thighs.
When she lay bare beneath him, moaning and arching into everywhere he touched, he was overcome with hunger for more of her taste. 
Rolan gripped her hips, dragging her with a jerk to the edge of the bed. With her glistening folds displayed before him, all he could do was drop to his knees and bury his tongue between them.
The sounds she made were like sweet music as he explored her. He sucked and massaged her slit with his tongue, then plunged it as deep within her walls as he could. His eyes rolled back in his head. Her taste surrounded him; his nose brushed her clit as he ate her, further overwhelming his senses with the scent of her arousal.
“Gods, yes, Rolan—” Tav moaned above him as her hands flew to grip each of his horns. She alternately tugged them and arched into his mouth, grinding her clit against his face.
He wanted to hear her say his name like that another thousand times. Rolan curled his tongue against her walls, determined to taste her even deeper, but to no avail. Without his sharp nails, he would have sunk two fingers into her.
Instead, as his mouth left her, the ridged end of his tail looped around to brush over her slit.
“Ah—” Tav gasped from the bed. One of her hands left him to prop up on an elbow to look. 
He watched her face in adoration as his tail slid between her soaked lips, coating itself in a mixture of her arousal and his saliva. Once it was thoroughly wet, he let the heart-shaped tip push experimentally into her.
Whatever hesitation he had evaporated at the way she arched and keened. He pushed in further, inch by inch, hissing in breath at how tight and wet her walls squeezed around him. Rolan felt his cock leaking between his legs at the sight of his tail disappearing into her plush cunt.
“Taking my tail so well,” Rolan praised without thinking, then groaned. “Fuck, Tav, you’re so tight—”
“Don’t stop,” she demanded, breathless.
When he felt the tip brush the limits of her insides, he held it steady as she panted down at him. Her mouth hung open in anticipation as she watched him lean in again for her center.
But instead of landing on her clit, his mouth met with the soft skin of her inner thigh and sucked it firmly between his teeth.
Tav gave a little yelp of pain, but her walls constricted around his tail so hard he moaned against her flesh. He left two more lovely red marks against her thigh before withdrawing his tail from her, leaving only the tip inside her silk.
Then he thrust back into her and took up a forceful rhythm of stretching her open on his tail.
“Fucking gods,” she gasped, gripping both his horns again. He felt her use them as leverage as she bounced her hips down to meet him. 
“Like this, don’t you?” Rolan urged her on, drunk off her desire. “Fucking yourself on my tail—” He leaned down to take another taste of her clit, swirling and sucking as the ridges on his tail dragged more wetness out of her with each thrust.
“Yes,” Tav moaned, shaking under him as his tongue worked over her clit. “Feels so perfect in me, so—ngh—!”
When he flicked the tip of it up inside her, Tav’s words stuttered to incoherence. He felt her inner walls clench and flutter, and repeated the motion over and over with each thrust.
“I’m—oh, oh ohohoh—”
She dissolved into soft cries. The muscles at her core tensed and shuddered as she climaxed against his tongue. Rolan withdrew his tail from her with a slick release, instead clasping his mouth over her to lap down the sweet taste that poured from her. His pants were so wet he was nearly convinced he’d already come, but he felt his cock straining against the fabric just as firmly.
When her thighs collapsed limp to either side, Rolan pushed himself to his feet for a look at her. Tav’s eyes were bright, cheeks flushed with arousal, her hair coiled out in wild tendrils that framed her like a crown. Their eyes met; with both hands on his arms, she pulled him down for a kiss.
Rolan landed braced on his forearms. Their tongues slid and pushed together, trading the taste of her release. When he felt her reaching between them to undo his laces, he pulled away to loose them and strip off the rest of his clothes. 
Tav reached for his erection, and before he’d steadied himself, she gripped his length to drag the generous droplets of precum around his tip with her thumb. His hips bucked into her.
“Eager, aren’t you?” She teased softly.
“Yes,” Rolan groaned. Tav’s soft hand was around his cock for the first time; it was all he could do to locate words. He knew his face was flushed and tense with arousal, but Tav only looked up at him with appreciation from where she lay back on his bed. 
When she guided his length across the wet of her core, he rocked his hips to drag his ridges across her. She shivered slightly, still sensitive, but rolled into him.
“Need you,” Rolan panted, not sure whether he was asking her or begging. “Tav—please—”
Tav’s hand lined him up with her entrance. When his leaking tip nudged inside her, Rolan pushed forward with one slow, determined cant of his hips.
The cool slick of her walls clutched each inch of him so perfectly. A low groan rose in Rolan’s throat—this was the closest thing to real satisfaction that he’d gotten in days, and he hadn't even started moving yet.
“So good,” Tav said under him, voice sweet and husky. “Keep going—”
Rolan braced his hands against her hips. He pulled out slowly, legs shaking beneath him, then pushed back into the tight plush of her. 
His hips took up a firm pace, and Rolan couldn't bite back his whines as he plunged his cock inside her. Whatever his fevered imagination had conjured, it was nothing compared to this—he fell over her again, fangs skating against her breast as her body rocked under him with each thrust.
“Yes, yes, fuck—” Tav was just as breathless as her fingers gripped the infernal ridges on his shoulder blades. She tugged, egging him on.
Rolan took the invitation with enthusiasm. He nipped and sucked around the swell of her breast, breathing in lungfuls of the sweetness rolling off her skin.
“Harder,” Tav begged, the words vibrating against his lips. The hunger inside him surged in agreement.
Rolan’s lips fastened over one nipple. He sucked, hard, letting his tongue roll her against his teeth. Tav let out a whimper, but he felt her legs crossing around his hips as he continued to bury himself in her.
Rolan pulled away to look at her face. A mist of sweat dusted her brow; Tav’s lips were parted and twitching with silent words. 
“Look at me,” Rolan ordered, still filling her with his cock in a steady rhythm.
Tav obeyed, her eyes shining and pupils blown wide. He straightened away from her, never breaking, and laid a hand each on her calves. Then he pushed up, folding her legs to her chest and opening up her cunt even deeper for him.
“You look so beautiful like this, Tav,” he told her, thighs trembling with the effort of keeping his pace slow and steady. “Folded in half in my bed. Stretched around my cock so perfectly.”
In response, Tav’s hands grabbed her knees, pulling herself open even further to each side. “Is this how you imagined it?” She asked wickedly. “All alone—wishing it was me and not your own hand—”
Heat prickled across his neck and shoulders, but Rolan was too far gone to feel shame. He couldn't resist breaking eye contact, however, watching the way his cock stretched open her dripping cunt.
“Just like this,” he panted in answer. She took in breath to respond, but he was already slamming back into her at a reckless pace.
The lewd, wet sounds of his thrusts filled the room, layered with their chorus of whines and moans. Rolan shuddered at how slick and tight she was around him, perfectly gripping each inch of his needy length. His cock throbbed in anticipation of a satisfying release, finally, after all these times of not quite enough—
“I’m close,” he panted, gripping her hips to pull her down deeper onto his cock. The tip of him nudged against the limits of her walls. “Where should—”
“Inside,” Tav insisted, still holding herself wide for him. “Only inside, Rolan, want you to fill me up—fuck—”
The imagery pushed him over the edge, and he did just that. With a throb of release, he felt his cock pulsing and filling her deepest walls with his seed. His hips stuttered into her as he pushed his spend as far into her as he could reach.
Tav clutched his shoulders as he came, humming and moaning out praises for him. Their hips rocked together, nudging his coated length back against her deep center. 
Tav went tense under him. He forced his eyes open and saw her lips parted in surprise.
“I’m—oh—!” 
She gasped in shock as her own climax gripped her. Rolan hissed in breath at the way she clenched and fluttered so suddenly around him. His length was still hard, and his ridges pulsed against her.
As she drifted back down, Tav’s eyes finally lit on him in a daze. “What
what was that?”
Rolan was abruptly reminded of how many ruts he’d spent without a partner. “I'm sorry, I should've warned you,” he confessed. It was hard to form his thoughts while still inside her. “During the cycle
infernal traits get stronger. Like incubi. Helps attract a partner.” Somehow this explanation was more embarrassing than any of the other filth he’d just spoken to her.
Tav stared up at him. “You're saying your come is going to make me come?”
“Essentially.” Rolan shifted inside her slightly, still not confident he was done. “I apologize—I didn't think to tell you. Is that a problem?”
“Rolan—” Tav let out a breathless laugh, and the sound went straight to his chest. “This is the exact opposite of a problem. Just a bit of a shock, that's all.”
The lovely sight of her happy and satisfied under him was too much to resist. Rolan leaned forward on his arms to kiss her, trapping her legs between their chests.
As her hand stroked softly under his jaw, Rolan felt a second ache settling in his loins. He released her lips for just long enough to push her legs out over his hips, then ducked back down for her mouth.
He rolled his hips into her slower this time, but it was somehow more intense. Their lips stayed connected as he drove into her deep. Her walls were slippery with arousal and his own seed, and they gripped like pure silk around his cock. Her opening slid over the sensitive ridges at his base with each thrust.
When he dipped a thumb between their bodies to rub circles over her clit, Tav broke away with a little gasp.
“I can’t again,” she said, panting.
“You can,” he told her simply. “Hold on to me—” 
She did, wrapping both arms and legs firmly around him as if he was her anchor. Rolan dipped his head to her neck as he doubled his pace, their hips slotting together with each brisk slide into her. He breathed deep against the curve of her shoulder.
Still so hungry for release, it wasn't long before he came again hard. This time he just barely pumped his spend into her before he pulled out to look down.
Sticky white seed dribbled out of her slit, running down toward her hole. He dipped the thumb circling her clit down to swipe it back up across her cunt, painting his come across the bundle of nerves at her peak.
Tav’s thighs twitched under him, and she gripped his arm tight with one hand. She swore as he continued flicking across her clit with the wet pad of his thumb, then whined out his name.
While her next orgasm nearly doubled her in half, Rolan tilted his head to watch the sight between her legs. She was soaked, twitching, utterly intoxicating. Her contracting walls pushed more of his spend out of her; it flowed generously from her slit and soaked down into the bedding below.
Finding himself now utterly spent, Rolan collapsed on his back next to her. As he did, he realized his legs had grown fatigued to the point of buckling from the exertions. He let his body sink heavy into the mattress. 
“I made a mess on your sheets,” Tav panted from beside him. 
Rolan groaned at her descriptive language. The fact that his length continued softening was a sign his urges were finally giving him a reprieve, however. “It was mostly my fault.”
She only let out a weak breath of laughter.
Too tired to trust his shaking legs, he reached an arm blind over the side of the bed and snatched up the first fabric it touched. His discarded shirt.
Pushing himself seated, he gently reached to dry between Tav’s legs. One of her hands traced the ridges on his back as he quietly tended to her.
“How long before the next?” She asked him.
“An hour or two.” Rolan didn't look at her. “Tav, you've done more than enough for m—”
The mattress shifted as she sat up and turned his face into a waiting kiss. It was soft, just a chorus of little presses across his lips.
When Tav pulled away, she tucked the damp curtain of his hair behind one ear. “Rolan, unless you want me to go, I'm staying until it’s over.”
Rolan cast a glance over her. Despite the fact that she was naked in his bed and covered in blooming bruises from his mouth, she was very much the same Tav as ever. “Thank you,” he told her quietly.
She pushed him onto his back with a sudden laugh, landing with her chest pressed to his. “What an utterly Rolan thing to say,” she mused. “Need I remind you I just came three times?”
Tav was teasing him, and was of a mind to put her in her place—only he found that none of his limbs wanted to move at the moment. Instead, his only response was a deep hum as his eyelids drooped shut.
He felt the mattress shift as she rose and wished he could reach out to stop her. But a moment later she curled up next to him again, dragging a soft quilt over their bodies. 
Rolan turned inward to rest his head on Tav’s chest—and fell into his first real slumber in days.
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moumouton4 · 1 year
Note
Can I request hcs, if they are open, for how any of these characters: Sasuke, Itachi, Kakashi, Orochimaru (Madara, Tobirama - I know these ones weren't on your list)
Would handle masturbating in front of their partner?
Like, is it hard for them? Would they feel self conscious? Would they just refuse to do it? What are they thinking about? Are they looking at their partner or closing their eyes? Do they look relaxed? (Just some things to think about, lol)
Just which ever characters you might feel any inspiration for! Hope this is okay! :)
Would He Handle Masturbating In Front Of You || Naruto characters x reader
Part 1 including : Sasuke Uchiha, Itachi Ichuha, Kakashi Hatake and Orochimaru
A/n : Hey hear me out. I'm going to add Madara and Tobirama when I'll get to finally see them lmao. I'm only at the ep 291 for now 👀
Part 2 including : Madara Uchiha, Tobirama Senju and bonus : Hashirama Senju ➡ HERE
Warnings : NSFW, masturbation, mention of riding, cum play, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it
Masterlist ⚜
I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it
Words count : 1929
Sasuke Uchiha :
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This guy is really tricky to understand. Like I got to the climax of his insanity so I'm not going to base this headcanon on that
Nevertheless I sincerely think that if you ask him outright if you can look at him while he's touching himself, he's going to look at you sideways and the ground is going to open under your feet / lh
Don't get me wrong he is flustered, very indeed but he won't show it to you
Not yet
He's not especially self-conscious of himself but he thinks it's very personal and he's filled with a mix of shame and embarrassment for some reasons
Moreover he is with you so he wouldn't masturbate often
However you are stubborn and you insisted
Walking around in your underwear to get his attention doesn't work, his eyes linger on your ass and breasts but he always manages to look away
Getting on your knees and sucking him off and stopping at the last second to force him to jerk off doesn't work either
You even tried to sneak in to surprise him but obviously he always knew when you walked in the house
The only time you saw him touch himself, was when his hand was stroking his thick cock in a swift motion from the base to the tip, right before he entered you. A moment when his mind was clouded by anticipation and lust, his lust for you
So one day, as you were about to get going at it, he jerked his cock a few times to make sure it was hard enough before sticking it into you. As he was moving it closer to your pussy you shifted your hips
He was surprised but didn't pay any more attention and realigned himself to you still masturbating
And you did it again 0.0
But then he stopped all movement, while a worried look appeared on his face. He asked you if everything was all right and you had to apologize profusely out of shame for having worried him
He's just so sweet
He realized why you did that a few days later when he thought about it
Because that's what he was thinking about when he was masturbating, you having sex and him impregnating you. But his mind went back to that last time
When he understood, he went to see you, after having emptied himself of course :')
He threw put you on the bed and looked at you with his usual stare, though you could detect some malice in it
"When you expect something from someone, it's because you're able of the same" he said as if he was lecturing you
You raised an eyebrow
"Take that off and touch yourself for me. I'm watching" he said as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. His sharingan-ed eyes went down to your crotch to signal you to take off your pants
And here he had just reversed the roles
That's so typical of Sasuke
Itachi Uchiha :
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He really doesn't deserve to be associated with the other members of the Uchiha clan on this part. Because unlike most of them, he has much less trouble showing affection to his loved ones, and especially his special one, you
When you ask him he is all red, like the clouds on the Akatsuki's robe
He is a little reluctant at first because making love is one thing, his cock is deep inside you and his head is buried in the crook of your neck. You don't see either of them. But now you want to see him with his cock in his hand and his face facing you. What if he moans ? đŸ˜±
But also how can he deny it to you when you bat your eyelashes like that at him, your eyes shining brightly
So he'll eventually agree, it's not that he doesn't want to do it it's just that he's afraid to look fragile and vulnerable in front of you
So please do praise him while his back is leaning on the headboard. His nail-polished hand moving up and down on his cock at a slow pace, his eyes closed and his frown wrinkling his forehead
You noticed his discomfort and asked him if he wanted to stop but now that his cock was hard in his hand he would have a hard time stopping even with all the self control in the world ( pun unintended )
So you got closer to him and with a look you made him understand what you were about to do to make sure he agreed ( consent is everything, consent is hot )
You put your small hand - compared to his - next to his on his cock, making his breath hitch when your fingers touched it and his sharingan activated without him having any control over it
You accompanied his hand in its motion before accelerating the movement and his hand followed your rhythm
You saw his face relax as the pleasure increased
After a while you let him continue to make himself feel good, admiring the tip of his leaky cock with precum disappear into his hand while his was fucking his fist. His pace now was nothing compared to the one he started with
And as slimy noises began to be heard, you heard a slight growl that overpowered the other sounds
You looked up to see him sitting there with his eyes closed, his face turned towards the ceiling and his legs spread a bit
The view was ethereal
"So pretty" you said
And to your surprise you heard him grunt your name in a groan, his hand seeming to move a little more vigorously
He ended up coming in a broken moan on his stomach, his hair sticking to his forehead due to sweat
Of course after that you helped him clean up and covered him with kisses on his chest, neck, cheeks, forehead and mouth, everywhere he would feel your love for him. You can try with the tip of his cock but he might get hard again
He looked exhausted and relaxed as if you pulled out of him an orgasm like he never had while masturbating alone
Finally, even when you're not with him and he's masturbating, he likes to imagine that you're close to him watching him do it
Genjutsu what #_#
Almost feeling your touch on his sensitive cock as he jerks off
Finally he did the right thing by listening to you
Kakashi Hatake :
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Bro might be one kinky smut reader
BUT
And there is a big but with only one T :')
He is also one introverted boy and even with you he is still shy with some stuff
One of them being masturbating in front of you, even if he has read a lot of this kind of scene in Icha Icha
And he would be lying if he said he didn't get hard thinking about it
You've already masturbated each other so in theory it's almost the same thing right ?
And it's this way of thinking that helps him get over his flustered state
But once he's naked in front of you he's all pink
So he sits with his back against a pillow and close his eyes
You even asked him if he needed you to hold his books on an interesting page while he touched himself
He felt his face get warmer as his face got even redder
"N-no don't worry" he replied as he began to gently move his hand up and down on his shaft, grunting slightly as he felt his fist tighten on the head of his cock
At some point, his eyes fluttered open just to make sure you were still there and he was surprised to see you staring at him like he was the seventh wonder of the world
Was he that good looking ?
In fact he seems legitimately ashamed of those scars from his time in the anbu but also somehow of his tattoo
The look you gave him made his dick twitch in his hand and he grunts
He asks you to sit closer to him
As he does so the speed of his hand increases
And finally he comes in long hot ropes on his lower belly
Yet he keeps moving his hand along his length, he likes to overstimulate himself
After cumming a second time, he lets go of his cock and makes himself comfortable in bed closing his eyes now that he is comfortable in his sheets and relaxed
You took a clean washcloth to clean him and then joined him in bed to cuddle
He kisses your forehead thinking that even though it was hard for him at first it's still something he could do with you but only if you touch yourself as well
Why should you be the only one to enjoy the show ?
Orochimaru :
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Literally has no shame
You are his creature and he is your master, at least in the beginning of your relationship, little by little he will start to realize that you are essential to his life and not at all to take your body, at least not in this way, he prefers to take you with his dick
And maybe he will start to be embarrassed at some point but not for the moment, you'll have to wait for him being in love with you
He is not at all self conscious about his body and he could walk around naked in front of you without any problem, he knows you love his body
It's not at all hard for him, the only hard thing there is his dick
And either if you are the one who suggest him to masturbate in front of you or if the idea comes from him, the goal is the same. It's a way to show your submission and belonging to him
And a good way to show it is to cum on you, on your face if you want, but otherwise in your mouth or on your breasts, where he can admire his work
He may even spread the mess he made on your breasts with his long cock or ask you to suck his dick clean
He needs to keep his eyes open, to have you in his sight
Not because he needs to see you to visualize you, he already knows you from every angle and could even draw you in detail. But he needs to see if you look at him, if you know the effect you have on him, how you make his cock hard and leaking
It's kind of intimidating in a way, he's the one who's naked but you feel almost as naked as him, even in your clothes, the way his piercing yellow-green eyes stare at you while being propped on his elbows
It's one of the only times, when he thinks about something other than his work, sure he sometimes thinks he could impregnante you and create an army of perfect little beings that would be the flesh of your two bloods but he is overall really disconnected from reality
And he looks so relaxed it's hard not to undress and join him, to ride his dick into the next century
So touching himself in front of you is something he can do without shame but seriously what's the point of jerking off in front of you while you look pretty drooling over the his cock when he can just undress you and take you as hard as he wishes
Just come here and enjoy
~
~
A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! đŸ„ŻđŸ§€ Again my requests are open đŸŒŻđŸ©
Taglist : @foxxymunson, @cl0vr, @ilovemanypeople, @glossy1pearl, @jane57sstuff
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jjkeverlast · 9 months
Text
seven days a week | jjk (m)
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>> pairing jungkook x fem!reader
>> genre/au's friends with benefits | college AU | smut | crack
>> summary jeon jungkook has always had crazy ideas, but wanting to fuck you every day of the week was the last thing you expected.
>> word count 1.8k
>> warnings dry humping | use of handcuffs | oral (m. receiving) | cowgirl | reverse cowgirl | ft. bestie jimin ;)
>> author's note fhjkdhkjd hiiii!!! we're halfway there peeps <3 things become revealed on this cause i'm a whore for plot... so 👀
masterlist for seven days a week
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“So, you and Jungkook are
” 
“Casual, nothing more and nothing less Park.” You answer truthfully, while skimming your eyes over the aisle of butt plugs. 
“I don’t believe that. Remember when he had the biggest crush on you during the first semester?” Jimin slaps your shoulder lightly, almost punishing you for hooking up with Jungkook. 
“You’re lying. He doesn’t like me—” 
“He does.” Jimin insists, whisper-yelling to not cause attention. 
“Why are you whispering?!” You take a butt plug from the aisle, noticing how it’s transparent. 
“I don’t know, we’re in a fucking sex shop?” 
You shake your head, giggling as you put back the butt plug and continue to stroll through the shop. Jimin isn’t innocent, he’s just not very open to the whole sex toys thing. You’ve tried to make him loosen a bit to the idea but he refuses. Which is also why you’re surprised he even accompanied you. But after he started bringing up Jungkook as the first thing, you weren’t surprised why he said yes. 
“I didn’t force you to come.” You say, finding the section for ropes and handcuffs. 
“I know
” Jimin whispers carefully, not wanting for you to hear that you’re right. He knows you’ll use it against him. 
“But seriously, why are we here? Did Jungkook send you here or?” You choke at the question. It’s not that it hasn’t anything to do with Jeon Jungkook but you’re here because he gave you the green light to pick. And, you’ve had a few things in mind. 
“This isn’t about him
 It’s for me.” You respond, voice laced with uncertainty. You hope it doesn’t crack through to your friend. Jimin just rolls his eyes, following behind you while you finally find what you’ve been looking for. 
“Perfect.” You grab ahold of the silver handcuffs. Jimin raises an eyebrow in question. 
“What? You’re gonna handcuff yourself or?” You sigh out loud. 
“And if I do?” 
“Kinky.” Jimin jokes, which causes you to roll your eyes back at him. Sure, you had some fantasies that weren’t on the most vanilla side, yet Jungkook was very basic. It wasn’t a bad thing, he always did things to make it exciting somehow but you wanted to step it up a bit. Handcuffs were a good beginning. 
Jimin doesn’t need to know who’s going to wear them. That’s gonna stay between you and Jungkook. You know deep down he gave you the green light, but a part of you is still uncertain about bringing an accessory to your deal. Fuck it, if he truly has a problem with it, then you’re not as sexually compatible as you thought. You’re just extremely curious to how he’ll react. 
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The bag from the sex shop is resting on your desk while you fiddle with the material of your sheets. You’ve kept your eyes on it ever since you arrived back home, wondering if you should open them now. It’s mostly because you’re curious over how exactly they work, and looking at the time, Jungkook won’t be here for another hour — so you have time. 
Something kicks inside of you, so without instinct you jump up and open the bag with no care. When you get access to the handcuffs, you notice they aren’t paired up with keys but are sustainable instead. You regret holding onto them, because the minute you’re about to put them away, Jungkook walks into your dorm as if he lives here. 
“Hi— Are those handcuffs?” Jungkook stills by the door, while your face looks like a deer caught in headlights. It’s like middle school all over again, being caught with something you truly wanted to keep to yourself. Jungkook is sometimes hard to read and him being extremely quiet worsens the situation for you. 
“You’ve got eyes.” You joke, about to put them away when Jungkook moves towards you and grabs them. He studies them, humming along. 
Your heartbeat increases, afraid of what he’ll think. 
“Never took you for a kinky person
” Jungkook says. “I like it.” He smirks, moving closer to you and grabbing both of your wrists. 
You stop him. “Who said I would wear them?” You quirk an eyebrow and Jungkook’s mouth drops. 
“You’re kidding.” 
You don’t respond, instead you take them from him, locking him in easily as he lets you. 
“Lay down for me.” You demand, taking off your pants which gets Jungkook excited. He’s never really been dominated before or been handcuffed before but this is surprisingly a huge turn on for him. 
“Damn baby.” Jungkook comments, laying completely down and dragging his arms upwards. You straddle his lap, being too quiet for his liking. 
Jungkook can’t get another word out because you’re kissing him, gently yet roughly as you pull his bottom lip with your teeth. 
“You said I decide this time. This is what I want.” You push yourself down, dragging your clothed core over his growing erection. 
“Shit.” Jungkook breathes out, stunned by how you’re taking control like this. 
You grind back and forth, feeling the edges of his cock rub down on your clit and slit. The sensation is enough to make you grow needy, continuing your movements. Jungkook isn’t better himself, moving his hips upwards to follow your pace. 
Jungkook is surprised when you bring your mouth on his neck, kissing him all the way down as you keep eye contact with him. 
It’s not that you don’t want to tease or edge Jungkook for a bit longer, but your roommate is back in a few hours and she’s the last person that needs to know you have Jeon Jungkook right under you. 
So, therefore you move your hand to the waistband of his pants, taking his fully hard cock out. Jungkook hisses by the contact of your hand on him. You do love to tease just a little bit, so you put your lips on the underside of his cock, letting him feel the soft edges of your lips. Jungkook moans by the contact, missing having your mouth on him. 
It’s not something you always did, so whenever you did, Jungkook couldn’t exactly contain himself. With a small smile, you finally give him what he wants, grabbing him by the base and swirling your tongue towards the wet slit. 
“Fucking love your mouth.” Jungkook says truthfully which sends a rush down your core. Compliments by him always had that effect on you. 
You prop yourself up, inviting the tip inside of your warm mouth. The way your mouth stretches sends a chill down Jungkook’s spine, him tucking on his lip ring in anticipation. You move downwards, covering everything you can and using your hand to whatever you can’t cover. As said, Jungkook is fucking big. 
You suck up and down, spitting on it once to lubricate it. The noise turns wet and sloppy as you shamelessly suck him off like you always do. Jungkook tries his hardest not to thrust upwards, keeping himself still to be good for you. After all, this is simply the beginning. 
When his cock is wet enough, you remove your mouth and move towards the cupboard to fetch a condom. Jungkook watches you put in on with ease, removing your underwear before you position yourself. Normally you would grind down on it before sitting down, but you’re too impatient. 
As you ease yourself down, you both gasp in sync over the feeling. Jungkook feels himself grow dizzy over how tight and warm you feel and you just love how he fills you up. 
When he’s fully inside of you, you begin to bounce, clutching both hands on his chest. Sounds grow louder whenever you move quicker, aching for a release. Jungkook tries his best not to move upwards and kiss every inch of you, maybe even slide his hand under your shirt and squeeze your breasts. Now he understands the meaning behind handcuffs. They send an unwilling rush through you, making everything feel more intense because of the restraint. 
“That’s it, shit.” Jungkook praises you, moving his hips upwards and meeting you halfway. You respond with a moan, throwing your head back as his cock hits your g-spot repeatedly. 
When you look back down on Jungkook, you notice how he’s moving his arms towards you. 
You stop moving. “If you touch me I stop.” Jungkook raises an eyebrow. 
“You can’t be serious.” He almost sounds annoyed. 
You grin, moving down to reach his lips. “I am.” You mumble against them and Jungkook tries to reach for your mouth but you move back upwards and go back to it. 
This is fun. 
Seeing Jungkook a little helpless, despite every inch of him aching to touch you, makes you feel something you can’t exactly pinpoint. All you know is that this is the most fun you’ve had a while. 
You grab onto his necklace, fiddling with it as you bite your lip and move carelessly. Jungkook is beginning to tense, a sign he’s close but you’re far from done. 
Therefore, you remove yourself, Jungkook groaning by the loss of your warm core. But, before he can ask why you’ve stopped, you turn around, giving him a view of your backside. 
“Fucking hell.” He breathes out, watching your ass begin to bounce on him. You hold onto his legs for support, gliding yourself back down whenever the tip is about to slip out. The pace is slower than before, a teasing method you’ve gained while having your fun with Jungkook. 
“Jungkook—“ You moan, feeling yourself grow closer, your legs tensing with each thrust. Jungkook can tell you’re close, with the way you’re clenching around him. He’s trying to hold on for a little longer, holding his hands where you want them but fuck. Every burning fiber in him wants to touch it, grab it, even spank it. He’s always liked the startled gasp you make whenever he spanks you and right now? He fucking needs it. 
It intensifies everything around him, his brain shutting off completely, sounds being the only thing he makes. You’re just as lost, pushing everything you have in yourself to chase your high. 
As your orgasm begins to wash over you, your hold on Jungkook’s legs tighten, along with every muscle. Jungkook follows suit, his cock twitching inside of you — releasing inside of the condom. 
The room is quiet. Without a warning you remove yourself, Jungkook’s cock slipping out of you easily. You both look at each other and Jungkook removes the handcuffs in a hurry. 
“Jungkook wha—“ He interrupts your sentence with a soft peck to your lips, both of his hands cradling your sweaty cheeks. 
The kiss surprises you. Not because you haven’t kissed before, no. This is the first time Jungkook has kissed you without it leading up to sex. 
“You’re incredible.” Jungkook admits, leaning his forehead against yours. He looks at you softly, caressing the apple of your cheeks with his thumb. It’s a look he’s never given you before. 
Oh. 
Oh no.
Holy shit. Does Jungkook like you?! 
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taglist for this series;
@royallyjjk @fandems @lukeys-giggle @junniesoleilkth @katie-tibo @effielumiere @babigriin @cocopuffsilove @exactlygreatcoffee @shameless-army @frieschan @fairy-jaykay @thvhoe @taebangtanbabe @parkjammys @bloopkook @canyon-lwt @borahaexoxo @iffyleafy @kookswifesblog @astralmono @skzthinker @joonblogz @evajeonsworld @justanotherkpopstanlol @younhakim29 @needausernamepl @rinkud @jungkookie94 @revluvexo-ls @jiminswh0re @kimsharon-2430 @chimmisbae @jjkluvcloudsworld @laylasbunbunny @queen-in-the-shadows @moonstar127 @ediary2 @whatfandomnow @jimmeojimin @ikpopwriting @burnahtsw @jkslaugh97 @hopeworldjimin @hoseokteardrop @justaprettywriter @gummymintae
[if your tag doesn't work, that means i'm unable to tag you :(((]
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© jjkeverlast 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.]
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jjwantsme · 1 year
Text
Captain Save A Hoe
j.m
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pairing: jj maybank x kook!reader
summary: in which y/n is a spunky girl in a toxic relationship with rafe cameron, and JJ makes it his mission to save her. (click to read part two)
warnings: nsfw, oral (m receiving), cussing,peer pressure, promiscuous!reader, toxic/abusive relationship, jj is so hot, angst, cheating, rafe being an ass per usual, kiara does not like reader 😭, sad jj, pretty short
authors note: i kinda really really REALLY wanna do a part two to this called “i wanna be saved!”
what do we think about that idea👀
masterlist
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“God, she’s so hot,” JJ mumbled, watching y/n dance from a far.
“Yeah, well she’s also a hoe-” kiara started.
“Woah!”
“Damn, kie!”
The boys all gaped at her, wondering why the sudden change of mood. “That wasn’t very feminist of you,” JJ snickered, taking a swig of his beer.
“I’m sorry, but it’s true! She’s just a bitch. Plus, she’s dating rafe. That tells us all we need to know!” Kiara shrugged.
“Yeah, well,” JJ moved his eyes back to y/n’s hips, “I don’t give a damn if she’s a kook. I could save her.”
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Y/n walked through the isles of the gas station, purse over her shoulder as her hips swayed. Her skirt barely covered her ass and her crop-top ended just above her belly button.
She knew she shouldn’t be around the cut, natural habitat of the pogues, but she had just gotten into a fight with rafe. And she did not feel like being around any other kooks right now.
Sometimes she wondered why she even was with rafe. He treated her like shit, and she reciprocated the behavior most of the time. They had cheated on each other countless of times, it wasn’t even surprising at this point.
They were toxic, without a doubt, but everything about the relationship was so addicting. The arguments, the scandals, the sex
it was all so erotic, y/n couldn’t leave- even if she wanted to.
“Well, would you look at that,” y/n heard JJ whistle, “What’s a pretty kook like you doing over here all alone?”
Y/n turned around to face him, “JJ, right?”
“Yup, that’s me.”
“Oh okay, JJ?”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck off.” She flipped him off before turning back around.
'đ˜đ—”đ—¶đ˜€ đ—¶đ˜€đ—»'𝘁 đ—Žđ—Œđ—¶đ—»đ—Ž đ˜đ—Œ 𝗯đ—Č 𝗼𝘀 đ—Č𝗼𝘀𝘆 𝗼𝘀 đ—¶ đ˜đ—”đ—Œđ˜‚đ—Žđ—”đ˜.' JJ thought as he watched her go back to looking at the grocery items.
Ever since that party, JJ was set on bringing that girl home- even if it did mean having to get on her good side.
“Woah, woah, chill out, babe” JJ chuckled, moving to stand beside her, “I didn’t even say anything
yet.”
“Yeah, well, you were thinking it.” y/n took a bag of mini-oreos off the shelf without even meeting his eyes, “what, do you want me to suck your dick, or something?”
“Slow down, there, sweetheart, i barely even know you.” JJ chuckled, resting his hand on the shelf above her, “Definitely not declining, though.”
Y/n sighed, “Look, J- can i call you J?”
“You can call me whatever you want, babe.”
“Right- well, J, i have a boyfriend, alright? So, just
scurry along,” y/n slightly shooed him away with her hand, before turning around on her heel and walking towards the cash register.
“Since when has having a boyfriend ever stopped you?” JJ snickered, following in her footsteps, “Y’know, you have quite the reputation, princess.”
“Rumors aren’t always facts, J.” She mumbled in reply as she paid the cashier, telling him to keep the change.
“Yeah, well, maybe we should fact-check this one. Just incase, y’know?”
Y/n sighed lightly. “If i let you drive me back to rafe’s place, will you leave me be?”
“Say less!” JJ smirked and opened the welcoming-doors for her as she thanked the cashier.
“You are very convincing, I’ll give you that.” Y/n huffed, walking outside and following him to his car.
JJ opened the door for her before jogging around to the driver’s side and getting in.
“Wow, what a gentleman,” y/n mumbled in a sarcastic tone, making JJ snicker for the second time.
“Always got something to say, huh? No wonder rafe calls you a firecracker,”
“He calls me that?” She raised her eyebrows, turning her head to look at him.
He chuckled and nodded, “He calls you alot of things, sweetheart.”
“He’s such a dick.” Y/n mumbled and shook her head, rearranging her position in the seat.
JJ scoffed, “Why are you with him then?”
“Decent dick, good money.” She shrugged, and JJ didn’t miss the way her breasts bounced with each movement.
“You deserve better than ‘Decent’, babe.” He shook his head, dragging his eyes back to the road.
“Yeah? Well, it’s kind of hard to find that on this island.”
JJ snickered for the third, and final, time.
“What’s so funny, hm?”
“I’m way more than decent, sweetheart.”
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“Shit, shit, shit, shit-“
JJ moaned as y/n took his full length into her mouth, swirling her tongue and using her hand to fondle with his balls.
He pulled out of her mouth for a second to catch his breath, her looking up at him as he gripped her hair.
“Taste so good, J,” she moaned, practically whimpered, before taking his head back into her mouth as she worked the rest of his cock with her hand.
“Shit, m’ gonna cum-“
Y/n quickly pulled him out of her mouth and jerked in home, only a short amount of distance from her tongue.
“Oh, holy- Good girl, đ—Žđ—Œđ—Œđ—± đ—łđ˜‚đ—°đ—žđ—¶đ—»đ—Ž đ—Žđ—¶đ—żđ—č.” He rasped and groaned as he released all over her tongue, and lips, making her whimper.
He panted as he laid back onto the bed, running his hands through his hair. Y/n crawled towards him after she finished swallowing, resting her head on his bare chest and fiddling with his fingers.
JJ felt his heart jump at the feeling.
But that was just the problem.
It had been three weeks since that day at the gas station. Three weeks since the first time they had a proper conversation.
However, it had been two weeks since their first time having sex together, and now it was a reoccurring thing. Every single day. It was a daily routine.
So, yeah, JJ was right; he got to take her home. But, she wasn’t đ—”đ—¶đ˜€. And it was really fucking with his head.
He swore to himself he wouldn’t catch romantic feelings. From the moment they started this whole thing, he swore not to.
"đ˜€đ—”đ—Č'𝘀 đ—·đ˜‚đ˜€đ˜ 𝗼 đ—Žđ—¶đ—żđ—č!" He told himself.
"𝗼đ—čđ—č đ—č𝘂𝘀𝘁, đ—źđ—Żđ˜€đ—Œđ—č𝘂𝘁đ—Čđ—č𝘆 đ—»đ—Œ đ—čđ—Œđ˜ƒđ—Č!" He told himself.
But, as always, that didn’t go according to plan.
And, he ignored it for as long as he could, but he decided. Today was the day he saved her.
“Hey, uh, y/n?” He spoke a little quietly as he knew they were both still worn out, moving his left hand to her lower back.
“Hm?” She mumbled, her eyes shut.
“When, uh
when do you plan on calling things off with rafe?”
Y/n let out a huff of annoyance and sat up, opening her eyes. “Are we really gonna talk about this 30 seconds after fucking?”
JJ groaned and sat up as well.
That’s another thing. She got mad at him everytime he brought it up.
“Well, sorry, but I’m not the biggest fan of fucking a taken women!”
“Yeah? Well, you’ve been doing it for 14 days, J!” She got up and started getting dressed, knees still weak, “14 days!”
“Cause i fucking like you, y/n!” JJ shouted, immediately regretting it when it left his mouth.
The girl paused her movements, turning to look at him, “You
what?”
“I like you, alright? And i get it, I know that you’re supposed to be this ‘crazy’, ‘promiscuous’ girl that can’t be tied down- but i also know that i’d be way better for you than rafe cameron. I mean, are you kidding me?” He let out, all in one breath.
“JJ,” y/n sighed, “I think we should stop seeing each other.”
“No!” His eyes went wide, “No, y/n, i’m sorry, okay? There, we can pretend i never said anything, I just need to-“
“JJ,”
“Just let me-“
“JJ, I can’t just-“
“I love you, alright?! And I’m not letting go of the small part of your life that i get to be in!” He panted, making y/n’s shut her mouth.
“Just
just give me a chance okay?” He spoke more quietly, “I’ll take you out on a date, a real date, and treat you so much better than cameron ever did. I swear to you, baby.”
Y/n sighed and cupped his cheek. “I think I have feelings for you too, J.”
He let out a small smile.
“But, that’s just more reason for us to end all of this.”
His smile dropped.
“I’m a kook, you’re a pogue
it was never gonna last, JJ.” She backed up from him, putting on her shirt as the two sat in silence for a moment.
JJ just looked around the room, wondering how he got himself in this predicament.
After getting fully dressed, y/n got closer to him and kissed his cheek, “You shouldn’t have tried to save me, I don’t wanna be saved. Bye, JJ.”
She walked out of the messy room, leaving him with a flushed face and broken part.
No.
She was wrong.
He was going to save her, even if it’s the last damn thing he does.
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muffinsin · 1 month
Note
I have a request, with absolutely no rush! Say the sisters get ahold of Donna's pollen and use it on the staff. Most staff have their fear amplified which is fun, except one. How do you think the Dimitrescu Sisters would each react to using it on a maid that ends up admitting she likes them?
Now, this one’s very interesting!👀 Let’s get right to it!
Masterlists
Bela
She has a relationship based on mutual respect with most of the staff members
She is not overly hostile towards them. In return, the same goes for the staff’s behaviour towards her
Tasks are completed more or less eagerly, and throughout, away from the constant fear of dying at every little opportunity
There is no complaint when working for her, and in return, she leaves those doing good work be
Those who do not respect her, learn to fear her
Either way any emotion, really, is rare to come by between the staff members and the Dimitrescu heiress
Normally, this doesn’t require any proof
However, Bela is rather fond of control. And proof. She wants to know all that is going on. All feelings, and all possible conspiracies
As such, she has talked to Donna regarding just a small yearly sample of a pollen stemming from a particularly powerful flower
With her wish granted, this pollen is used, a little bit each month, to check in whether the staff is up to something
Feelings and thoughts are revealed
Often, fear comes to the surface and Bela must deal with hysterical, crying, screaming and begging staff members
She never assures them she won’t harm them, but never lays a finger on them, either. Not without reason. She knows, maids will become somewhat scarce to come by if they keep dying within months of working at the castle. Something she scolds her younger sisters for in particular
Yes, indeed, fear is something she is well versed in
Sometimes, at rare times, instead of fear, respect is displayed
Those are quick to earn Bela’s favour and are granted somewhat immunity from her sisters. Alas, respect and trust is impossibly faked with the pollen clouding a person’s mind
When you are summoned, she is visibly curious. There is no point hiding her curiosity, after all
She doesn’t know a lot about you
You’re tense, knowing what is about to happen. That true feelings and thoughts are about to be spilled
She wonders, will the pollen betray you and portrait hidden hatred?
Bela smirks as the pollen is blown in your face, your eyes immediately a little brighter, your posture slacking, your fingers twitching with the need for more
Her smirk falters however, when one appears on your face
“Lady Bela
”, you slur out, and she raises an eyebrow as you step towards her
Do you really believe you could take her on in a fight? Pathetic!
She crosses her arms when you move forwards, her eyebrow raised challengingly
However, you don’t assault her
Instead, Bela finds herself blushing a deep crimson all the way to the tips of her ears when you cup her cheek and set your other hand to her waist
She understands in an instant. You mean no attack. No violent one, anyway
Her flies buzz anxiously as you lean in, your eyes heavy and gaze piercing, your lips pursed slightly
Just like that, she feels your warm breath against her plump lips
“You’re so beautiful
”, you whisper
She feels a shiver run up her spine
In an instant, a hundred thoughts run through her head
Why do you like her? It certainly isn’t the first time she has caught someone’s eye, yet for someone to be this bold, even under the pollen’s influences?
What about her mother? Alcina would hardly approve of such a thing. Bela knows not to get entangled with the staff. With mortals
She knows and remembers Mother’s chiding words, spoken to her after her first heartbreak
Is she no better than her sisters? Getting fancy with the staff?
Oh, but when your lips surprise her by boldly pushing against hers, all these thoughts suddenly seem to fall away
Nothing but a gasp and a small whimper is pulled from her when you pull back again after a few seconds, the need to inhale air so soon again far too great for a little mortal
She gasps in surprise when she feels her hip being squeezed, as though affectionately
“I-I’ve alwaay’s wanted to do th’at”, you slur out, a lazy smile on your lips
Curse the wicked blush your words inflict on her
Cassandra
She has many titles given to her by the staff. Monster. Beauty. A bad omen. An omen of death. The devil. The torturer
She loves it
After all, what better feeling is there, than to be feared?
Oh, and she wants just that
Cassandra doesn’t care for admiration. For glory. For love among the maids
She doesn’t seek such things from lowlifes, as she often likes to refer to the staff members as
No, she wants to be feared
She crackles with delight at the raw fear she tastes in their blood, the fast beating hearts and hushes of conversations coming to an end when she nears them
Yes, she is respected. Because she is feared
And she is quick to demonstrate why she should be feared. Ah, she is eager for it, almost
Cassandra is very aware of how a staff member sees her
Most are doing a horrible job hiding it, anyway
However, there’s you, too. You, who never quite lets on what you feel towards her
Respect? Certainly. You’ve not once sneered at her. Doing as much would prove to be a death sentence anyway
Yet, you haven’t once done anything at all regarding her. No smile. No sneer. No nothing
She notices your glances her way, and yet, you never quite look away as fast as others when she turns to you
One second. Almost precisely so, until you turn away
Just enough to confirm: you have been looking at her
Your feelings are a mystery to her, and it draws her in
She yearns to understand you. To find out what feelings you harbour for her
As such, she visits Donna regarding some of her flowers. Specifically, their pollen
She wants to find out your true thoughts and emotions, in any way possible
As such, it takes only a little bit of bargaining and persuasion to get what she’s looked for; pollen, just a handful, enough to reveal what you feel
She smirks when she corners you the next day already, her gloved first clenched with the pollen hidden inside
You haven’t even got time to ask what is going on before powdery yellow pollen is blown in your face, obscuring your vision for a mere moment before it returns back to normal
Cassandra waits in anticipation. Her eyes glisten, her fingers twitch and clench around the handle of her sickle every other second
She’s visibly excited
Will you cower before her? Fight her? Admire her?
Your eyes, however, hold determination. What for, she wonders?
You don’t reek of fear like the others, she notices
Instead, Cassandra gasps when you boldly reach out and grasp the sickle, tugging hard enough to pull her close even when the blade pierces your skin
The scent lingering in the air has her groan, her dark pupils widening slightly, so only a thin line of gold is visible in her eyes
You bite your lip at the sight
As you cautiously raise your hand to put it on her waist, she watches with rapt attention
This is- curious
You seem to be studying her, as much as she studies you
Then, she gasps in surprise when her shoulder is kissed, gently even
“I have been yearning for you, Cassandra”, you admit at last
She shivers at the words, her flies buzzing beyond her control
The lack of her proper title riles her up, yet she can’t bring herself to strike you down
She is still left confused, despite your confession
While indulging in a few maids here and there, all know that fancying this sister leads to pain, ultimately
Judged by the cut on your hand, you don’t seem to mind, though
She shivers when the hand is raised to her cheek, her nose brushing up against your palm when she turns her head enough to lick the smeared, red blood
Her head is turned to you, and she smirks as you lean up, standing on your tiptoes, just enough to brush your lips against her chin
Poor thing
 if only she leant down
She allows herself to stare a little longer, her hip tugged to no avail, as you practically beg her to lean down
At last, she humors you
As your lips push against hers, she can’t help but moan. Her chest aches, her cheeks heat up
Somehow, knowing it’s genuine is nearly overwhelming her
You like her. You do. The pollen assures her of this
The thought makes her head spin
Daniela
The staff’s opinions on her are incredibly different
Some lust after her. They notice the beauty the youngest Dimitrescu possesses and can’t help but yearn for a taste
Sometimes, she indulges them
Often, she is seen flirting, laughing, smiling beautifully
Many have fallen victim to her charms already, and many more are to come
Others see through this
They call her a black widow, a siren, the reason so many are lured in and killed. No one ever makes it out unharmed
Yes, some hate this sister
Of course, it would be foolish to show it openly
And still, Daniela notices the hateful glances and hushed whispers thrown her way, only to silent down and disappear when she’d do as much as turn her head
She couldn’t ever kill all who felt this way, it seems
And lastly, there are those deadly afraid of her
Terrified to the point of hyperventilating when she’d get near
She is a Dimitrescu, and that means death to most of the staff members
Respect is not in the picture. Not truly, and Daniela knows this
She yearns to get the same kind of respect her sisters do, yet it never seems to work
Is she polite and nice like Bela, they merely fall in love or prove their leash needs tightening. They misbehave and fail to see her as a leader. As their boss
Is she brutal and ruthless like Cassandra, they all cower in fear
Yet, there still is no one showing proper respect
But- there must be, no?
She decides, she wants to find out, and a small trip to Donna has her find exactly what she needs: pollen, from a flower capable of spilling the true feelings and intentions of whoever is targeted by the sickly, light green pollen
Eagerly so, she buys half a bag full of the special pollen, enough to interrogate all the staff members
After the first three subjects, Daniela questions why she even wanted this in the first place
All she has received so far was taunting words, hateful speeches, confessions of lust, eager hands attempting to touch what they should not, tears and begging, shaking and screaming for help
She has been called a monster, a siren, a beauty, a beast, a monstrosity, a mistake
Not a single one stood out. She truly is considering killing them all. Mother could replace them for her, after all
Then, there’s you, however
Unlike the others, you don’t immediately jump into action when affected by the pollen
You stand still, a light smile on your face, your eyes meeting hers
It’s rare for her to have someone look into her eyes. Even less so with such adoration
Slowly, you begin to move towards her
She resists the urge to move back again, her eyes narrowing and focused on your hands
If your intention is to touch what is not yours to touch, you’re not the only one. Those before you have attempted it and lost their limbs
However, you aren’t acting the same way as them
Instead of her hips and chest, your hands raise to her cheeks
She freezes for a moment, your hands wonderfully warm against her even warmer, light pink cheeks
With a sharp intake of her breath, she at last notices the emotion in your eyes, unclouded due to the pollen
It is not hatred, or ignorance. Not fear, or unhappiness. It’s not raw lust and perversion. It’s love. Admiration. Respect
She nearly loses herself in your eyes
If you love her, you must be her soulmate, no?
She’s the one to lean in and allow a kiss, and you are the one to reciprocate
She feels your love, in the gentleness you hold her cheeks with, in the soft gaze set on her, in the dreamy sigh when she pulls away for a moment and feels your breath on her painted lips
She holds your hand, and the sensation makes her feel lightheaded. She loves it
Daniela’s flies buzz excitedly when her hand is squeezed, the loving smile on your lips only for her to enjoy
“You love me!”, she decides for you
She’s happy, thrilled even
A lover, just for her! A genuine one!
Still, she doesn’t want your first day together to be under the pollen’s influence
She wants to hear you admit your feelings towards her, not be forced to do so
As such, she presses a gentle kiss to your lips again, and with her flies buzzing excitedly, she swarms off and away
She has a date to plan!
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seiya-starsniper · 11 months
Note
For the blossoming romance asks: 18? 💜
Cecccciillllllll thank you for this lovely ask, I had so much fun writing it 💖💖
Bit early for Saturday, but this fill does kind of fulfill the prompt "Touch Starved" for Dreamling Week too 👀
blossoming romance writing prompts
--------
hello/goodbye hugs that linger
Hob Gadling, Dream has found, is rather fond of hugging. 
At the end of a long night spent conversing at The New Inn, Hob had wistfully asked Dream “a hundred years, then?” perhaps expecting the same answer Dream had provided him for the last 600 years. But his time imprisoned has changed him, and so Dream instead says, 
“I’ve heard that friends meet more often than merely once a century.”
The smile on Hob’s face grows slowly. It starts with surprise and wonder, a slight quirk of the lips, as if the immortal cannot believe what he has just heard. Then it grows into a blinding thing, full of teeth and unrestrained joy.
“Next week then?” Hob asks. “Perhaps next Saturday at 7pm?”
Dream thinks of his duties, of all the rebuilding he must do for his realm, of the still missing dreams and nightmares, and the vortex that is threatening to destroy the very fabric of the universe.
“I believe I shall be able to make it,” Dream answers, a small smile creeping up his own face.
“Wonderful!” Hob exclaims. “I shall see you here again, then.”
When they stand to depart the pub, Dream finds himself suddenly enveloped in warmth and the smell of old wood smoke and beer. He freezes, uncertain at first of what is happening until realization dawns upon him seconds later. 
Hob is hugging him.
Dream does not know for how long Hob embraces him, but it is over too soon for his liking when the man releases Dream from his hold.
“Sorry, probably should have asked first if you were the hugging type,” Hob says, suddenly shy and refusing to meet Dream’s eyes.
“I
I am not sure that I am,” Dream answers honestly. “It has been some time since someone last held me. At least a century, if not more.”
Hob’s eyebrows raise suddenly, alarm written all over his face.
“There’s a story behind that, isn’t there?” he asks, and Dream can feel the ache in Hob’s voice as he voices the question.
Dream nods. “I am not ready to tell it, yet. Perhaps next week. Or the week after.”
“However long you need,” Hob reassures him. “I’m not going anywhere, my friend.”
On the evening before their next meeting, Dream is exhausted. He has unmade his favorite creation, killed a dream vortex, fought with his favorite arcana, and discovered his sibling had intervened in his realm in a petty attempt at sibling rivalry. All within the span of a week.
—
It is. A lot.
Dream considers canceling their meeting. Reaching out to Hob in a dream and asking to postpone their appointment until Dream can collect himself and feel less unmoored.
But Saturday comes, and Dream finds himself standing just outside The New Inn, contemplating why he has not yet entered.
“My friend!” he hears from directly behind him.
Dream turns and there Hob is, dressed in an outfit similar but not exactly the same as the one he wore last week. The brown leather jacket is the same, as are the shoes, but his trousers are a different color and he’s wearing some sort of graphic tee shirt instead of a plain white one. 
“Hello Hob,” Dream greets, trying his best to smile, despite his exhaustion.
Hob’s brow furrows. “Are you all right, my friend?” he asks, concerns clear in the tone of his voice.
“I am
fine,” Dream answers though he is anything but.
Hob huffs disbelievingly. “No, I don’t think you are,” he says. “Ah fuck it.”
Hob pulls Dream into his arms and Dream gasps at their sudden closeness. Hob still smells like old wood smoke, and Dream wonders if this is his natural scent, or if it is some sort of cologne he wears, whose purpose is to drive Dream to madness with how much he wants to inhale it. 
Dream’s exhaustion lowers his inhibitions, and before he can think better of it, he finds himself wrapping his arms around Hob’s back and burrowing his face into the other man’s shoulder. He thinks the wood smoke smell is strongest here, in Hob’s jacket, and he wonders what Hob has done to imprint this smell into the material. 
“There, there,” Hob says, rubbing smooth circles into Dream’s back. “I’ve got you, old friend. I have you. I’m here.”
Dream finds himself clinging to Hob, perhaps more than is socially acceptable amongst humans, but the other man doesn’t seem to mind. They stand there, just holding one another, until a bar patron from inside emerges, forcing them to break apart and move away from the entryway to the pub.
“I don’t think the pub is the best place for our meeting tonight,” Hob says, once the other person is out of sight. “My flat is not too far from here, if you don’t mind a walk? I’ve got a bottle of mead old as Queen Elizabeth herself in the fridge. I think you may need it.”
“I believe,” Dream answers, his tongue heavy like molasses in his mouth, “that you may be correct.”
Hob smiles. “And I can hug you all you want in the privacy of my living room.”
“I would like that,” Dream says, and finds that he means it. Already his heart is lighter after Hob’s embrace, and perhaps it will grow lighter still, with each subsequent one, given freely, by his oldest friend.
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seiberries · 1 year
Note
Sooo I have an idea👀 Sae, Rin and Nagi with a fem reader who looks scary but is actually very nice and sweetđŸ€—. Thank you.
that makes for such a cute dynamic!!
bllk boys : scary but sweet fem s/o hcs
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includes: itoshi sae, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro warnings: mild swearing on rin’s
itoshi sae
honestly, he didn’t really understand how people found you scary. sae is the last person to judge based off appearances since he treats all the same; he basically brushes everyone off.
though, your contrasting personality did slightly surprise him when he started talking to you in full sentences, and not just in one to two word replies.
he’d never say that though, especially because it charmed him. just a bit. he kind of found it interesting.
he eventually grew fond of how you were, it was amusing seeing you interact with others.
as his s/o, no one dares call you scary, at least not to either your or sae’s faces- because scary is sae’s glare at them when he finds out about it.
if you wanted to look less scary, he’d let you buy cute dresses with his card, lucky you!
you two scare people people together, it’s cute. it actually makes him smile when he’s alone.
itoshi rin
he though you were picking a fight with him; the look he gave you on your first meeting is one you will never forget.
”what the hell? you wanna fight?”
only for him to scrunch his eyebrows when you reply frantically that it isn’t the case at all. rin was definitely confused.
it took him awhile to notice and admit to himself that he had the wrong first impression of you, you who always tried smiling and helping out when you could.
his apology was very brief, you barely heard it. what you did see clearly, was the pink on his cheeks.
as his s/o, like sae, he glares at anyone who hurts your feelings, intentionally or not. unlike sae, he typically gets verbal about it.
”mind your eyes, lukewarm fucker.”
nagi seishiro
the first time he made eye contact with you, he was perplexed. had he upset you somehow? there was no way... he was just keeping to himself, like usual.
he was pleasantly surprised to see that you had come to return his earphones that dropped out of his pocket, he thanked you like he would anyone else after.
he didn’t mind the contrast between your looks and personality either, it was more of, he couldn’t read you.
he knew he wasn’t the best at emotions. so, before you two started dating, he couldn’t differentiate your normal self and your upset self. it was troublesome.
however, months after when you two did start dating, he could tell seconds within talking to you. he was the observant type when he wasn’t busy, in your case especially.
he also enjoyed the privilege of not being bothered when he cuddled with you in public, since no one would approach you.
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yourlocaltreesimp · 6 months
Note
heeeyy, it's me again lmao, was a bit busy with prelims but im mostly out of the woods.
As promised, came up with requests
May I request the Chain with a reader who isn't what they seems?
Like, Four with a soft, chubby reader who's barely taller than him but can supplex a man twice their weight? I'm talking about her rivaling Twilight in terms of strength.
Or maybe Wars with a reader who kinda acts like a class clown but is actually very strategic and knows how to help them out in battle from the sidelines?
I like the way you think.
Part one of possibly a side series? đŸ‘€ïżŒ
PT 2
✧: *✧:*
Four
There was one defining feature that Four could settle was his favorite about you. You were soft. The kind of soft that made him melt with endearment. You never wished to cause harm (at least never maliciously so, your pranks put the sailor’s to shame) and you were perfect in his eyes. He did not care if your weight deemed you as ‘less beautiful’ where you came from, he didn’t give a single care. To him, whoever decided that had clearly never been met with you, for you were excellence. You were soft, and kind, and utterly gorgeous. Yet, you were not his. He was ripped from his echoing thoughts at you sliding in next to him. The tavern booths were small, so your side was slightly pressed to him as you leaned your arm on the table, that firey glint of defiance in your eyes.
“No, I don’t wanna-“ Twilight held of one hand from where his elbows crossed on the table.
“What? Scared you’ll loose your title?” One of your eyebrows quirked up at the challenge and the smirk as you spoke was enough to make Four fold.
“Alright then, bet.” He matched you, stretching your arms so one elbow was on the table, hands clasped in the center. He’d expected Twilight to at least be able to put up a fight, but the knuckles of his hand met the wood of the table with a smack. For good measure, you held it there, squeezed right in your grip as he struggled. Eventually, you relented, letting him go. It wasn’t long before all the others tried their luck, none standing a chance to you. Four watched attentively, never volunteering, never stealing away the attention you occasionally blessed him with.
“Four” Your voice cut through the crowd of voices so cleanly.
“hm?” He didn’t trust himself entirely to speak, the colours running circles in his mind. You extended your fingers, the soft tavern lighting casting beautifully over your skin.
“Wanna try?” He didn’t want to before, but that grin of yours could steal anything of his, it’s already taken his heart. He climbed to the other side of the booth and extended has arm out. It didn’t last long, his arm pinned to the table with your hand over his, but at least you let him savour the feeling.
Long after, he lay awake in his bedroll, mind filled with incessant chatter. But maybe one day, you’d be nearby, holding his hand, calming his worries. But until then, he can yearn.
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mj0702 · 1 month
Note
I saw your manager said yes to the sneak peak 👀
does that mean you’re giving it to us?? đŸ€žđŸ»
-🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
“Less.. Toons.. Alexia “Don't touch that” Putellas... two times Ballon d'Or...” you started before getting big eyes as you frantically looked for Mapí
“... Winner, cariño... I won that trophy twice...” Alexia laughed as you stopped mid-sentence
“Yeah... sure... winner... twice” you said as realized that she had no idea that there was in fact just ONE whole Ballon d'Or... and one broken one
“You sure are something cariño” the blonde spaniard smiled as she hugged you
“Ew... go away... you're all sweaty” you faked disgust trying to push her off “AND you wear the wrong jersey...”
“I'm very sorry” Alexia said “apologetic” and hugged you even tighter “You want my jersey?”
“Nope” you snorted “But Lessi over here is a BIG fan”
“You want to swap?” the spaniard smiled at your friend who – in true Less fashion nodded frantically and tried to get her jersey over her head just to get stuck in it
You knew the second you saw her tuggin on it the second time that there definitely will be a clip of it – and it definitely will go viral.
With the help of Toons and you you managed to get her out of her jersey which she embaressed offered to a smirking Alexia
“Come on Stooges” you heard Lucy yell from the place she stood with Ona (and Mario for cover) “Time for huddle”
“But I didn't see Mapí” you whined back
“And it will stay that way” Alexia quickly said firmly
“We're on english soil... you can't tell me what to do in me home” you whined
“Lucia?!” Alexia didn't even bother to give in to your whine “you're hermanita wants to spend time with María”
“Absolutely not” Keira yelled from your other side where she was talking to Irene and Patri
“Tweedledumb” you yelled happily skipping over to the trio leaving Lessi and Toons awkwardly standing next to Alexia
“I was tweedledee” Patri said confused
“No... I'm pretty sure you were tweedledumb” you mused
“Bitsy... don't you have someone else to annoy” Keira pressed a soft kiss to your temple
“I would... but pretty spaniard won't let me go to colorbook spaniard” you whined
“Wrong.. I... won't let you go to Mapí...” Keira laughed
“But whyyyyy” you whined again
“Really?” the blonde raised her eyebrow at you
“Ugh...” you huffed before you suddenly perked up
“What have you seen now?” Keira immediately felt the change in your body language
“Not what... who” you smirked “Hola sexy spaniard”
“Hola little One... you behaving?” Jenni grinned at you as she came over
“Never... good game Hermosa”
All the players around you stopped talking looking at you confused as Jenni began smirking.
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tj-dragonblade · 3 months
Note
Academic Conference au? 👀
Ah, Academic Conference AU my beloved. It's actual title is An Examination of the Benefits of Inter-Departmental Fraternization (by Hob Gadling, PhD) but that's kind of a mouthful so the old label still sticks. I have mentioned this one a lot in various places; it started from the smut prompts 'bed sharing' and '"Then do it already"' and has spawned multiple chapters with a thin semblance of plot by this point. The first chapter is fully drafted but needs a little revision to accommodate details I decided on later. Second chapter is maybe half to two-thirds drafted, and there are outline-y notes and small chunks of chapters three and four. None of it will be posted until the whole thing is done, because I will not finish it otherwise. And also those evolving details I mentioned.
There have been bits and pieces of this scattered in several places over the months I've poked at it and I kind of lose track of what's been shared where BUT. Here is the opening section of the fic, which I don't think has been shared before - at least not in its entirety:
~ "He can share with me."
The grateful look on the poor harried hotel clerk's face is gratifying, but Hob didn't speak up just for her.
Dr. Dream Murphy arches an eyebrow over the chunky black rim of his glasses at Hob, mildly suprised. "Dr. Gadling," he greets, considerably less agitated than just a second before.
"If you're amenable, of course," Hob adds, speaking directly to his colleague now. "It's a single, so we'd still need a rollaway bed—if there's one available?" He glances to the clerk.
"There is," she confirms, fingers flying over her keyboard.
"Perfect. Well?" He turns to Dr. Murphy. "Better than trying to find a room elsewhere? I'll even take the rollaway; you can have the room bed."
Dr. Murphy inclines his head like some kind of old-school royalty. "Very well."
"Brilliant." Hob flashes a smile, directs it back to the clerk. "I'm in 607, Robert Gadling. You can merge his reservation with mine and get him a key, and just send up the extra bed—thanks!"
"Of course." She finishes entering the changes, programs a key card, hands it to Dr. Murphy. "Here you go sir, and again, I'm so sorry for the mix-up—"
"No matter. Thank you," he says, already turning away, and Hob flashes the poor girl one last grateful smile and hurries to follow.
Dr. Murphy says nothing until they are closed in the elevator together, and then he fixes Hob with the crystal blue eyes that have wandered in and out of Hob's daydreams all year. "I. Appreciate your intercession on my behalf, Dr. Gadling."
"Think nothing of it," Hob demurs, shrugging. He catches himself fiddling with his earlobe and drops his hand. "Not like it's her fault they overbooked and gave your room to someone else. Not your fault either. Glad to be passing by with a solution. But." He straightens up, flashes his most winning smile. "If we're going to be rooming together for the whole of this conference, please—call me Hob."
Dr. Murphy does that regal head-incline thing again; his gaze, when it lifts to Hob's, is considering. "Hob," he repeats, like tasting it, and the familiarity stirs a wispy tendril of warmth in Hob’s gut. "Then you must call me Dream."
WIP List
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tyongf-nct · 1 year
Note
Something for vernon? 👀 maybe something like intense staring, tension jdhdhdhshsh IDK anything??
an intense stare off is somehow so perfect for vernon
.anon you little genius
also, I made this smutty because I simply cannot resist making things smutty đŸ€­ this is just a drabble but i hope you like it nonetheless
dynamic: chwe vernon x fem!reader
warnings/tags: smut, oral sex (female receiving), eye contact, enemies with benefits
~
You refuse to be the one to look away first. Every fiber of your being is begging to moan and thrash around as pleasure sweeps through your body like a windy storm. Vernon maintains eye contact with you as he eats you out with practiced precision. His tongue slides in and out of your hole, up and down the folds of your sex as you bite the inside of your cheek to hold in sounds of pleasure.
Filthy wet noises fill the air as Vernon closes his lips around your clit, sucking that tiny bundle of immensely powerful nerves and pushing you right off the edge. Fighting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, you let one cry escape as you come, pushing Vernon’s face as close to your core as you can while you ride out the sweet high of an orgasm. Vernon looks at you through long, beautiful lashes, his annoyingly handsome face bringing heat crawling up your neck.
He finally releases your sensitive flesh from his mouth and wipes at his lips with a thumb, sticking it in his mouth to lick at the wetness leftover. You feel your stomach flip at the sight, his light eyes still pinning you to the mattress.
“That was quick,” he smirks. You want to roll your eyes, but that’s be breaking contact.
“It was easily several minutes. Maybe even over ten,” you comment thoughtfully. Vernon chuckles, eyes flitting over to the bedside table to glance at the clock.
“It was less than ten,” he confirms. You can’t hold back a grin, cheering internally at his need to be right.
“I win,” you state. Vernon raises a single eyebrow.
“Win what?”
Your grin grows as you grab his shoulders and push him down so that you are now on top.
“Nothing. Just know that I win. And I’m claiming my prize,” you smile innocently. Vernon chuckles lightly and concedes.
“Very well. Claim me, then.”
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hyunsvngs · 9 months
Note
no thoughts head empty just fratboy!minho đŸ˜”â€đŸ’«đŸ˜”â€đŸ’« goD PLEASE i need to know what was going through his head throughout that whole exchange starting from the video (what if,,,,minho pov 👀)
for real omg, fratboy minho is taking up 100% of the real estate in my brain rn and he isn't paying me a single penny of rent đŸ« 
believe me tho, minho was going absolutely feral on every emotional level, from the second he saw that video. he's just far too good at keeping his composure
some thoughts below the cut....
minho had obviously had his eye on you for a while. from the very first time you'd shown up with felix and jisung, actually.
he knew you wanted him - you were much less subtle than you thought. he'd seen you checking him out, just about every single time the two of you were in the same room. and every time he so much as smirked at you, even raised an eyebrow, you either flushed bright red or found an excuse to run out of the room.
you seemed so shy, but minho knew better. this was the behaviour of someone who was harbouring some dirty, dirty thoughts.
honestly, he'd been disappointed when you stopped coming around. he thought that maybe you'd found yourself a boyfriend or something, which annoyed him more than he'd care to admit. if only he'd moved in a little faster, and you could've been his... he hadn't wanted it to transpire like that, though. he needed you to grow more and more desperate, until you needed him so bad it outweighed your shyness.
and that's what had happened. in a more roundabout way.
when he heard you in the background of that video, it felt like christmas had come early. minho prided himself on his restraint. he could wait for as long as was necessary. he wasn't one to rush. but after hearing that, hearing your vulgar words... he knew he had to seize this.
he hadn't even said goodbye to anyone at the theta chi theta party. he'd high-tailed it back home, he couldn't risk the possibility of you running away before he got there. seungmin was the first one he saw when he got there "where's-" "jisung's room."
he started to get hard as soon as he saw your shocked little face. honestly, he didn't know what had gotten into him. he usually had so much more restraint than this. he could hold off his own pleasure for hours, if it meant he could toy with a pretty baby, watching them get more and more desperate.
god, he felt like the desperate one with you. he did a fairly good job of not showing it, or he hoped so at least. but when he saw the need in your eyes; when you undressed for him, and he finally got to see your bare skin, all soft and ready to be touched; when he first saw your pussy, dripping with want.
and when you asked him to cum? he had just blown, instantly. this was the first time in a long time he hadn't felt in control. and the strangest thing was, it didn't even frustrate him. well, okay, it did a little bit. but most of all, he was intrigued.
he'd laid awake for a while, after you'd fallen asleep. thinking about things. he was satisfied, more satisfied than he'd been in far too long. but, in the same vein, he was hungrier than he ever had been, filled with pure want. he craved you, urgently.
honestly, he had to hold himself back from waking you up for part two. you slept so sweetly, though, he couldn't. instead he lay there, holding you gently, brainstorming all the horrible, filthy things he'd do to you tomorrow.
-billy
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adaptacy · 8 months
Note
hello hello letting you know i am absoutely 👀 interested in that old west au you mentioned
giggles
i just wanna chew on leland idk i wanna just.. yknow? idk point is i lob him and now you can have cowboy leland
riding a horse with someone is so intimate and sexually charged for no reason so take this brainrot :D
we also got a little brother's best friend goin on cause.... giggles
Cowboy!Leland x Afab!Reader
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You leaned your elbows over the paddock fencing, watching the man in the saddle as he directed the horse to walk circles around a pair of ex-beer barrels. You glanced at the folded bills in between your fingers, and then back up at the man. He'd been at it for about an hour, you'd been watching him from the porch of your house, but it still made very little sense to you. It made even less sense with how much you were paying him. Or, how much your brother was paying him.
The man noticed you staring, as you'd been there for several minutes already, and he tugged on the reigns, directing the horse away from the barrels as he approached you.
"Everythin' alright, miss?" He asked, the upper half of his face shadowed by the brim of a hat, but it didn't hide his gaze. He glanced back at the house, and then to you once more, squinting slightly. "You hurt, or-?"
"No, no, I'm not hurt. I just... What is it you're doin', exactly, Mister Mckinney?" You asked, motioning towards the horse, who shifted her head away at your movement.
"I'm trainin'er. You... You own a ranch, and you don't know what horse trainin' is?" He let out a quiet laugh, and you rolled your eyes with a scoff.
"I don't own the ranch. My brother does. I'm just stickin' around for a bit before I settle down. Watchin' the dogs and keepin' the house tidy while he's gone. Ain't the horse s'posed to come trained?" You asked, knitting your eyebrows in confusion.
"No, uh.. No, they don't all come trained," he chuckled. "I'm just helpin'er temperament. Gettin'er used to being ridden. You ever rode one before?"
"A horse?"
"Yeah...? Yeah, a- a horse," he clarified, not sure what else you'd be talking about.
"No."
"You wanna?" You narrowed your eyes, and he reached his hand down. He motioned towards the paddock fence. "Climb on up. I'll show ya. Just be real gentle, she won't hurt ya if yer easy on'er," he directed.
"I'm... not sure," you released a nervous laugh, but he shrugged.
"Why not? I'm right here. I ain't gonna let you fall 'r nothin'," he reassured, and you pursed your lips, contemplating the idea. After a moment, you tucked the money into your pocket and lodged your boot on the first wood level of the fence, climbing onto it. You took the man's hand, and he placed his other on your waist, helping you onto the horse. "Easy now, that's it," he hummed, doing his best to steady your wobbly motions.
He moved off the saddle slightly, giving you room to sit as you held onto a small handle-like wooden sculpture jutting out from the saddle. His hand was still on your hip, but he removed it once you seemed steady enough.
"See? You got it. Practic'ly a natural," he teased, and you looked down, realizing how high up you were. It was a little uncomfortable, but not terrible.
"That's it? What's all the talk 'bout then? Don't seem that special," you remarked, and he chuckled.
"Toss your leg over," he directed, and you did as he asked. He shifted closer to you, pressing his chest against your back and his arms against yours, the reigns still in his hands. "I'll go slow, don't freak out," he hummed, noticeably close to your ear, and you gave a slow nod.
His boots gently hit the horse's sides, and there was a bit of a jump as the horse moved into motion, leading you to nervously grasp the handle in front of you and lean forward. He leaned forward too, keeping his chest against you as you awkwardly bumped with the horse's every step.
"Surprised your brother owns a ranch and you ain't ever ridden a horse before. You lived here long?" He asked, and you shrugged.
"Not very. Traveled with a group for a while. Didn't end up workin' out. Came back here. Parents owned this old place and I just... never really got into it, I s'pose. Brother's always been for it. Guess he got the cowboy trait," you explained, your speech occasionally broken up by bumps in the horse's steps.
"Nah, I think you got some of it in'ya. You got good rhythm," he complimented, though you didn't quite understand what he meant. He tugged the horse to a stop, setting down the reigns momentarily and instead placing his hands on your arms, earning a shift from you. "Hold onto her mane, right there. Might be more comfortable. Real tight, it ain't gon' hurt her. You got it," he encouraged, guiding your hands to the closest section of a black mane, your wrists resting on the brown fur of the creature. "Ready?"
"Sure," you replied, and he kicked her back into motion, causing your body to jolt forward slightly, but once you found the 'rhythm' he spoke of, the positioning was slightly more comfortable. Sure, you could also feel his hips against yours with every single step, but were you really complaining? No.
"Better?" He asked, leaning down slightly once more; he wasn't as close as before, but you were still acutely aware of his body against yours. "You're doin' good for a beginner."
"Yeah, better," you replied, a small smile on your face at his praise. He guided the horse around the length of the perimeter, and when he reached roughly the same spot where he'd originally picked you up, he pulled her to a stop. You sat up, looking back at him. "Why'd you stop?"
"Well, I gotta get back to trainin', sweetheart. I ain't gettin' paid for nothin'," he chuckled, smiling innocently at the small frown on your face. "What're you poutin' for?"
"Can't we do one more lap? It was kinda relaxing," you requested, shrugging.
He narrowed his eyes, seeming rather confused at the question. "Well, you can always do it on yer own time. It is your horse, after all. I was just tryin' be a gentleman. You looked lonely," he answered.
"I was," you mumbled, looking back at the house. He furrowed his brows at the comment, but you continued speaking before he replied. "I ain't gonna have time to learn myself. I'll pay you."
"Oh, no, you ain't gotta do that. I- Are you askin' me to teach you, darlin?" He asked, and you gave a small nod, bringing a slight smile to his face. "That's awfully sweet of ya, but I ain't sure how your brother'd feel 'bout me takin' his little sister out on horseback. If you got hurt, I wouldn't-"
"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," you cut off, and the cowboy left his mouth slightly open, giving you an almost frustrated glare. You sat up all the way and turned back to him, reaching for his chin with your hand, but he stopped you before you could pull him into a kiss.
"Sweetheart, this really ain't a good idea. I- I don't mean to be rude, you're a fine lookin' lady, but I really do respect yer brother, and-"
"Just kiss me," you grumbled, pulling him closer again, and this time he didn't resist your tug. You leaned towards him until your lips were on his, and you closed your eyes, unable to keep yourself from smiling as you felt a hand on your hip.
After a moment, he pulled away, blinking at you with an almost empty gaze. You held it, remaining silent as he processed the interaction. And then he tugged you closer and kissed you again, gently squeezing your waist. He held it for much longer this time, to the extent where you had to be the one to break it off, catching your breath as he chuckled. "I take it you're wantin' more?"
"Preferably," you replied, and the brunette smiled. He placed his other hand on your waist and guided your leg back over the saddle, helping you off of the horse as your boots hit the dirt. You looked up at him with a frown, but he shook his head.
"Relax, I ain't one to leave a lady unsatisfied," he reassured. His fingers snuck under his hat and he removed it, setting it on your head instead. "Run along inside, I'll get this gal back in 'er stable and we can... talk about payment options," he teased. Your frown turned into a smirk as you climbed back over the paddock fence, and he dipped his head, shifting back onto the main seat of the saddle as he guided the horse towards the gate.
After watching him for a moment longer, you turned around and headed back into the house, a satisfied grin on your face. Sure, you didn't know how to ride horses, but you did know how to ride cowboys. Maybe it was time for him to learn a thing or two.
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swordsmans · 2 months
Note
have any snippets you want to share from what you wrote last night? 👀
it took me a bit to figure out how you knew i’d been writing last night hahahahahaha. i’m finally settling back into working on the sequel to the poison immunity fic! progress is slow but steady, which has actually been quite nice. This takes place on Zou after the crew arrives from Dressrosa but before they split up again to go to Wano and WCI, respectively. Disclaimer, of course, that this is a draft :'3c
“A whale’s lifespan is rarely longer than, oh, seventy years,” Brook hums, tilting his head to the side, curling white-bone fingers through the darkness in a vague gesture out to sea. “I will cherish my time with Laboon, but in the grand scheme of an endless death, the years he has left are so very small.”
Zoro watches him, bleached body almost reflective even in the dim moonlight, and not for the first time (or the tenth time, or the hundredth time) Zoro is struck full-force with the incomprehensible horror of Brook’s strength. More than any of them, he is an immovable force. Untethered (and who could blame him) but still here. 
“Fifteen at most, then,” Zoro replies, “give or take,” and Brook tilts his head the opposite direction, a learned courtesy to show he’s listening. 
“Optimistically, yes,” Brook replies. His voice is light, carefree like always. “Whatever I am given, I will take. It’s more time than I spent half a century believing I had, after all.”
“We’ll all still be alive.”
“And quite spry, in fact.” Brook nods. “When Laboon passes, I will still have my crew. I won’t be alone—not again. Not yet.”
“Not yet,” Zoro grunts back, blunt as ever, and as he shrugs a wordless yohoho! floats up between them. He thinks of a span of time more than twice his age, so long he can’t wrap his head around the depth of it—and he thinks of sagged bodies decaying in sprawls across rotten wood, purple and bloated with a poison of their own. 
“I find it funny that people so rarely talk to me of death,” Brook hums, light and easy. 
Zoro snorts. “You’re always talking about death.”
“Oh, indeed. But one man does not a conversation make.” He chuckles, then—quick. Bright. “I would know!”
It’s hard not to feel his own mouth pull into some kind of involuntary smile, even as his brain processes what’s been said. Brook is just so—Brook. Not for the first time, Zoro marvels at him. 
Still, though—
“Maybe it’s ‘cause you do that,” Zoro says. “The jokes and shit.”
And Brook throws his head back—his arms out—and laughs. Laughs loud enough to wake Nami but doesn’t, somehow (which is a good thing and also a terrible thing, Zoro thinks—he wonders how long it’s been since she properly slept, waiting for them here, waiting for Luffy to come and fix things). Still, he mutters, Oi—and Brook twists his bony neck to look down at him—grinning. Always grinning. Physically incapable of anything else. 
“Oh, but that’s the point!” Brook says, absolutely delighted. “I’m a musician!”
Zoro feels his own eyebrows raise, but Brook is Brook is Brook—so he just grunts,“I don’t follow.”
And animated in his own strange, manic little moment of joy, Brook sways, spinning once across the grass and slipping out of his coat in the dance—before he folds smoothly into a crouch in front of them both. Without missing a beat, he gently, gently drapes his coat across Nami (and across Zoro’s legs, too) and says, “My job is joy.”
“Joy.” It’s a statement and a question in one. 
Brook simply nods, standing straight again. In the moonlight, his bones shine. “Death is an inevitable part of life, and if I can make you fear it just a bit less—make you laugh just a bit more when you think of it because you think of me, then I have served my purpose. We are surrounded by death—seeped in it—but death is proof we are alive. All things need an antithesis, a mirrored opposite such that its best qualities can shine against the juxtaposition. Without death, what is life! And what is life if not laughter and music and companionship! We must laugh at death to laugh in life!”
Zoro watches him, bursting forth with a half-coherent rambling into the night—and he doesn’t get it. But at the same time, he does. 
But— 
“Maybe it's good for the others, but I’m not afraid of dying,” Zoro bites, more defensive than he means. It has been—a day. “I’m not afraid of shit.”
With easy acquiescence, Brook nods. “Of course,” he says, still light and breezy. “I believe that’s part of what our dear Navigator has taken issue with—one could argue that’s part of the overall issue at hand. But, I must say—if anything, this is proof that you do still fear death. Fundamentally different.”
“Oi—”
“It’s not a weakness!” Brook says, shaking his head. “Or if it is, I’m quite spineless myself—oh, but I do have a spine! You can see it right here—” he poses, distracting himself, giggling against the sky as Zoro frowns. 
“Doesn’t seem any different to me. And also—I don’t.”
“Everyone has a spine, Zoro—even if you can’t—”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Zoro grumbles—but it’s around the twitched lips of a suppressed laugh. Because of course—
And then Brook says, “You do indeed. You fear our Captain’s death more than anything, anything in the world, though you know better than anyone but me, perhaps, that it will come.”
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horseshoegirl · 8 months
Text
Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 17 - Come a Little Bit Closer
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📖 One of my friends who beta-read this for me pointed out there is a scene in here that is very similar to one in Ted Lasso (I've never seen it, though there are a lot of people in my life telling me I should now); so I'm just mentioning there might be a similarity.
There is also something in here that people have been waiting for. Albeit, it's probably not the one scene everyone wants, given recent events. But someone(s) gets karma'd 👀
❗+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, mentions of an original child character, angst, mentions of shitty family dynamics, physical fights, Ruthless Dagger Squad, violence, verbal fights, and mentions of blood.
#7k words
Part 16 | Masterlist | Part 18
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“Are you a fucking idiot, Bradley?!”
You slapped Rooster hard on the back of his head, the thwack anything but satisfying.
“He is, indeed, a fucking idiot,” Nat quipped next to you. Bradley frowned at you, rubbing the back of his head. “I thought you would be happy I got to him!”
“You do not invert over another pilot on your team, catch them in a fucking corkscrew, and make them hit the fucking hard deck! Regardless if they are my ex or an asshole!”
It was hopeless to think you could ever stop swearing in Penny’s bar, not when Bradley was still pulling stupid shit like that. Therapy was a big step, but you knew deep down it would take a little more than a few sessions to make him less impulsive.
Maybe even more so from behind the joystick of his jet.
Rooster threw his hands up defensively. "I was just trying to teach him a lesson. You know what he did to you!"
You shot him a look.
Bob rolled his eyes and leaned against the bar, crossing his arms. "And what exactly did you accomplish, Rooster? Besides nearly killing yourself and him?"
Bradley gave him a death glare.
“I don’t care why you did it!” You snapped, tapping the end of the bottle opener hard on the top of the bar as you made your point. “You put yourself and a teammate in danger! You’re lucky Maverick stepped in before you got kicked out!”
You spun the tool in your hand while rolling your eyes, quickly popping the caps off the row of beer bottles lined up in front of you in frustration. Placing one in front of Nat, you handed Bob’s to him with a stern look.
“One, Robert,” You said, holding up your finger. “One, and then I am cutting you off.”
He grabbed the neck of the bottle, nodding and throwing his hand back in what seemed to be a 'yeah, I get it' kind of way. You held back on Roosters, holding it out of his reach, engaging him in a staring contest.
"Promise me."
"Liz."
You shook your head.
"This is not something I'm being funny about, Bradley. Promise me you will not pull that shit again."
"You're being unfair; it was just a dogfight."
You raised your eyebrow, purposely glancing over at the barbell for a split second. "I'll ring the bell on you."
Bradley cocked his eyebrow at you. The bell was something he prided on, never happening to him before. "I'll tell your manager you've been providing bad customer service."
You shrugged. "Go ahead."
Penny would legitimately not care. She'd do more damage to Bradley by chewing him out than you ever could.
"You should see the Yelp reviews when they mention me when I ring the bell on assholes. I don't care. Promise me you won't put yourself in danger anymore just to prove a fucking point."
Rooster made no effort to tear his eyes away from you. 
"Bradley Bradshaw, do you promise me?!" you tried again. When he didn't reply for the second time, you raised your voice, "Lieutenant Bradshaw! Do you promise not to risk your fucking life over proving a point?!"
Bradley blinked.
"Yes, Ma'am."
You thumped the glass bottle to the top of the bar, sliding it towards him with a huff.
“Liz!” Jimmy called out. You turned in his direction with a smile, though you were anything but happy right now.
“The Jukebox is doing that thing again. Can you see what’s wrong?”
“Did you try hitting it?” you called back.
“Several times!”
You sighed. Walking to the other side of the bar, you stopped in front of Bradley, pointing your finger into his chest.
“You pull that shit again, therapy or not, I swear to god, Bradley..." You couldn't even formulate the rest of your sentence, throwing your hands up in frustration and letting out a garbled yell as you walked away.
You approached the Juxebox with a huff, grabbing the sides as you peered into the glass. The machine was turned on, but the needle hadn't touched the spinning disc.
Someone slung their arm over the top of the machine, startling you with an almost empty beer bottle in their hand. 
"First, it was the keg, now it's the jukebox. What else is on your hit list, darlin'?"
You stiffened.
You hadn't seen Jake since that night. The minute you managed to get the courage to leave Rooster's Bronco, you cleared out your house of anything to do with him, his overnight bag sitting on your porch when you went to pick up Sadie.
It was gone when you came back home.
And It was suddenly like he hadn’t existed. You hadn’t found yourself going through what you assumed was the traditional aftermath of breaking up with someone. You hadn’t eaten a tub of ice cream, binged rom-coms or cried your eyes out except on the drive home. 
And that had been it.
No calls. No texts. No apologies. 
Without turning to face him, you remarked sarcastically, "Your over-inflated ego, but something tells me I'm going to need something bigger than a broken jukebox to take down."
Jake glanced at the machine, knocking it hard with the side of his boot.
You don't know what was worse, that the machine came to life or that it started up in the middle of the song, 'Come a Little Bit Closer' by Jay and the Americans, started up in the most ironic part.
Come a little bit closer. You're my kind of man, so big and so strong.
The quip fell easy from your lips. “Oh, what do you know, a knight in shining armour, solving all my problems.”
You don't know what you were trying to achieve by being like this. You just wanted him gone. But Jake didn't leave. Instead, he smiled at you. "You always have a way with words, don't you?"
You rolled your eyes. Snatching the bottle from his grip, you turned on your heel.
"What are you doing here, Jake?" you called out, knowing he would follow you.
"I just want to talk."
"I have nothing to say to you."
He quicked his pace, jogging up and interrupting your path. You stopped, gritting your teeth and twisting your hand away from him in frustration.
"Liz, please."
You huffed. You finally met his eyes, your gaze hard. “What is there to say, Jake? What could you say to me other than I was another bartender on your list? I just wish you had the common decency not to involve my niece in this, you asshole.” 
He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a shout across the bar. 
"Jake!"
George had called out to his brother, surrounded by a group of women. When Jake turned at the mention of his name, George was already waving him over.
You couldn't blame the women shooting him flirty glances, eyeing him up and down like a piece of meat. You just wished the pang in your chest didn't hurt as much as it did.
"Go ahead," you offered with a tense smile. "You made your intentions known. You are free to do whatever the hell you want now."
Jake faced you, his expression faltering as the edges of his mouth twitched, failing miserably to hold on to some semblance of confidence.
"You don't think I know that?" he remarked. "I think about it all the time."
“You should've thought of a lot of things before, Jake," you sighed, stepping backwards and away from him. "Don’t start on my account now.”
---
Why George had decided to stick around, Jake had no idea why. Maybe it was insurance that the damage he had done was permanent. 
Jake just wanted him to get the hell out of dodge. 
He wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation he’d been roped into when you walked away from him. He had no other choice but to walk over and let George introduce him to the two ladies he had been flirty with. 
Jake knew what George was doing. He was trying to entice him back into his old ways. It was clear as day to anyone George would be going home with this woman tonight. 
The other one, he thought her name was Bree or something along those lines, was trying to engage him in a conversation, batter her eyes or flirt. But he hadn’t so much as blinked, too caught up in how you shot him down and walked away from him. 
It wasn’t until George opened his mouth to answer a question that Jake snapped out of his trance and caught the last end of his sentence. 
“I guess having played football in high school makes it easier. My throwing hand is awesome when playing darts, though.”
That pipped his interest.
"Since when have you played darts?" he finally spoke up. 
"Since we hired a few new ranch hands,” George shrugged. “All they want to do is drink, sleep, and play darts. It's great for introducing yourself to other ranch owners. I practically win them over each time," he remarked, trying to throw in a bit of modesty.
The gears started to grind in Jake's head. And slowly but surely, the cocky-ass Mona Lisa smile came back. 
He nodded towards the dartboard. "Wanna play a game?"
George raised his eyebrow, taking a swing of his beer, "Want something else to lose your dignity to?"
Jake's grin didn't lessen. In fact, there was a certain glint in his eyes when he replied, "Something like that."
---
A crowd had gathered around the dart board while they had been playing. Practically, the whole bar was suddenly invested in this little game.
And you, leaning up against a pillar next to Bob, who had ushered you away from your post for a few seconds to watch the end of the game. Your arms were crossed, and you had a slight frown, watching him with sad eyes.
It was clear you wanted to be back behind the bar, not standing here, watching the person responsible for your broken heart play a fucking game of darts.
It wasn't even really a game. Jake could land a bullseye with his eyes literally closed. The regulars knew it, too. So, why was he purposely throwing darts with his non-dominant hand? You had no idea.
From what you could tell from when you were behind the bar, he still played well enough. They went for the long haul, starting at 501 points and slowly working their way down. Coyote and Rooster had decided to keep track, using the chalkboard on the side. George had led throughout the game and was still leading, but Jake was always close by enough to make it interesting.
Then George landed enough points that if Jake didn't get exactly what he needed to on his turn, George would win the game with his next. You didn't know why Bob pulled you over here; maybe it was to see Jake lose. Or to see George fail.
You have yet to determine which would be the better option at this point. And yet, you still couldn't bring yourself to step away.
You leaned over to Bob to ask, "What does he need to win?"
Bob sighed. "Two triples in the 20 slot and a bullseye. The bullseye needs to be last."
"What are the stakes?" you frowned.
Bob only shook his head next to you. "Nothing, from what I know."
George spun from his position, smiling at everyone cheering for him. He came to stand next to Jake, patting him hard on the back a few times.
"I don't know if you were trying to prove something, brother," he laughed, "But good game. We should do this again sometime."
Jake did the one thing he wanted to do his whole life.
He laughed at his brother.  
"George, I never understood why you've had this grudge against me for my entire life," he said, stepping out of George’s grip on his shoulder. 
Jake twirled the dart between two of his fingers, shaking his head. With a little sleight of hand, you watched as he switched his grip, the dart now in his dominant hand. You stood from leaning against the pillar and uncrossed your arms.
"You had it all. Dad's approval, the football career. All the girls flocking to your side in high school. You’ve spent your entire life under his thumb, chasing approval.”
He cut his eyes to you, seeing the frown on your face, and knew he had to continue. Stepping up to the mark, he squared his shoulders, eyeing the board.
“Trust me when I say this - you might've been the chosen one in Dad's eyes, but out here, in the real world? That doesn't mean shit."
Jake threw his first dart, the spike landing within the safety of the triple twenty. Everyone watching caught their breath in surprise.
Jake's smirk grew bolder, the fiery confidence he was known for blazing in his eyes as he looked back at his brother.  "Do you want to know what I would have said to you the day you were talking shit about Liz and Sadie?"
A quiet gasp escaped your lips.
George's mouth twitched.
“I agreed with you for one thing and one thing only. I know I won’t be welcomed back,” he stated. “I couldn’t give a damn if I am.” 
Something burned deep inside Jake’s chest as he pushed on, needing George to hear what he was saying desperately. 
" Sadie? She sees right through your bullshit. But she will not hesitate to stand up for someone if she thinks they are being mistreated. She’s so mature for her age, and I am damn proud to be her uncle.” 
He knew he shouldn’t have called himself that but was too caught up to care. 
“And Liz? The world throws so much bullshit at her, and she still chooses to be kind, even when she still buries her grief, because she doesn’t want her niece to see her cry.” 
Jake shook his head, a sad smile on his face. “I found people who, despite knowing my flaws, chose to stand by me. Not hold them against me.”
Jake threw the second dart, hitting the board next to his previous dart within the rim. 
"I remember all the nights you came home, mirroring Dad's words, telling me how worthless I was.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “Now I just realize you were literally copying everything he had to say to you from that day. Making yourself feel better.”
He'd never admit Rooster forcing the both of them in a Corkscrew is what made him realize it. He had been regurgitating every diminishing word and sentence his father had screamed at him growing up back at Rooster's face, hoping it would make him feel better.
He picked at the tail end of his dart, the weight of it familiar and comforting, before glancing at George's face.
"You ever heard of Roosevelt?" he asked nonchalantly. George eyed him carefully, "What does a dead president have to do with a game of darts?'
Jake had a conceited grin on his lips. "Well, he had this quote, and I'm probably butchering this, but he said critics don't count. Or the person who points out how we stumble or how someone could have done something better." 
Jake twisted from his mark on the ground, standing square in front of George as he continued to explain his point.
"Because the credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly... and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly."
Jake's voice was steady, but his eyes bore into George's with a fire. "All my life, George, I've been in that arena. I've stumbled and failed, but I didn't listen to someone from the sidelines telling me how to live my life."
Jake lifted his hand, never taking his eyes once off George.
"It's time I remembered that," he said, thinking about Sadie. "You shouldn't have to either."
He flicked his wrist forward, letting his dart fly.
Bullseye.
He heard the thump of the dart hitting the board, and cheers erupted throughout the Hard Deck. Jake had thrown a dart enough times to know whether or not it had hit its mark; he didn't need to look. Even Rooster was laughing at the utter shock and disbelief across George's face.
"I'm living my life, George," he said, patting him on his shoulder, leaving his hand there. "It's about time you did the same."
For once in his life, Jake had managed to stand up to his brother. But the moment wasn't as satisfactory as he might have imagined - He found himself thinking it didn't matter.
Because as he stepped away from George to look back to where you had been, he realized you hadn't been there to see it.
---
Your shift came and went in a blur after Jake and George’s dart game. The squad still hung back well past closing hours, watching and even helping as you closed up the bar, except Rooster, who was messing around on the piano.
Jake was still here. And George. 
They had been out on the patio for over an hour now, simply talking. You tried not to pay them much mind as you tried to get through your remaining tasks quickly, but you couldn’t help but look out the back windows occasionally, unable to take your eyes off the Seresin brothers for long.
George approached Jake soon after he escaped the crowds. There had been no fights, no punches thrown or someone storming out. In fact, every time you looked up, the two seemed to be inching closer to each other.
Damn him and that cocky grin. Why'd he have to be so... Jake?
You didn’t want to be a spectator to Jake’s theatrics during that display during their dart game. Leaving before he threw that last dart, you were now questioning yourself
 if you walked away to shield yourself or to punish him. 
While he stood up for himself against George, in the back of your mind, there was an insistent voice whispering that maybe, just maybe, that display was also for you too. 
Some of you ached at the idea of him seeking validation and needing to prove himself. And that's what hurt the most: that deep down, under layers of stubbornness and hurt, you still cared for him.
If it was, you weren’t ready. Not for this. Not for answers or explanations. You deserved more than whatever that was. 
But you still heard him. Heard everything he said to George.  
You really didn’t know what to make of it. 
The sound of the front door slamming up against the wall, rattling some of the portrait frames, startled you from your thoughts. There was a momentary thought of remembering you really needed to lock the front door when you were closing, but it was washed away just as quickly as it came.
You couldn’t take your eyes off Tyler’s body as he charged forward, finger pointed towards you with a seething glare. “You fucking bitch!”
You stepped backwards, the sharp edge of the sink hitting your spine hard. A few glasses jolted from the force of it, sliding off the ledge and shattering to the ground. Rooster’s playing stopped immediately, and the piano bench toppled to the ground.
Was it anger? Shock? Disbelief the past few weeks of not seeing him coursing through your veins responsible for your reaction? You knew Tyler was dangerous, but deep down, you hated how easily you cowered at his appearance.
Tyler didn't get very far in his effort to get to you. Bradley came out of nowhere, something out of a comic, with his fist flying, punching Tyler square in the jaw.
“That was for Sadie, you bastard!”
Unfortunately for Bradley, Tyler only keeled over briefly before taking a swing. Rooster had not been prepared for him to retaliate, thinking his punch would have been enough to put the asshole on the ground.
Tyler had taken more punches and hits to the face as a football player than the average person would in their life. While Jake had managed to get him on the ground when he tried to kidnap Sadie, and Rooster was fitter than the average person, it would take much more than Jake and Bradley combined to keep Tyler there.
The uppercut to Bradley’s jaw could be heard from miles away, and you could only stand there, watching helplessly, as Bradley crashed backwards into a wooden table, his name a cry on your lips as the pieces scattered.
Whether or not they heard your cry or the commotion, the rest of the Daggers swarmed the island bar as Tyler watched Bradley roll on the ground amongst the splinters in some twisted sense of pride.
Whether you could realize it at the time or not, that would be his biggest mistake.
Nat was the first one there, the first one to put herself between you and Tyler, readying herself in case he tried to leap over the bar to get to you. Javy, Fanboy and Payback had run from opposite sides of the room to surround Rooster and Tyler, Bradley finally rolling himself off the broken table on the ground and pulling himself up.
And Jake, almost breaking the sliding door as he bolted inside to get to you, George on his heels. Rooster was too happy to stand beside him as Jake placed himself before everyone else, this hand twitching in anticipation of a fight.
"This is the one who did all that?"
Jake side-eyed George as he came up from the back to flank him on his other side.
"What?" he remarked, puffing out his chest and not once taking his eyes off Tyler. "I'm not that much of an asshole to know that's not how we treat women. Or children. We should drag his ass back to Texas and show him some southern hospitality."
Nat cocked her head at Tyler, speaking up from her spot next to the bar. "You must be a complete idiot to walk back in here after what you did to them."
Tyler shrugged, a sickening smile on his face. "I've got nothing left to lose. Literally."
"What, Daddy cut you off and kicked you out?" Rooster asked, spitting out the blood pooling in his mouth.
With the presence of your friends, you managed to calm down a little bit. You were still scared, which would never change as long as you could see his face, but you could take in Tyler's state more clearly.
Dark circles under his eyes. Blonde hair, greasy. He was still wearing that same freaking white sweater, only it looked like it hadn't been washed in days.
Rooster was right. Tyler had been cut off, indeed.
Fanboy and Payback, having realized what was going on, went to either exit to stand guard. You weren't sure whether to keep people out or keep someone in. But Tyler hadn’t noticed. He was too preoccupied to remove his eyes from Jake.
You watched as Tyler glanced at everyone around the bar, obviously bothered by Rooster's remark but not addressing it. "Seeing a lot of protectors here. Must be that 'Navy bravado,' huh? All show, no substance. We've all seen how they fail when it matters most.”
Ironically, it was George who intervened first. “This isn’t your place, man. Walk away before you get hurt.” 
Tyler flicked his eyes between Jake and George, a smirk playing on his lips, “This is interesting. Another misguided soul ready to join this little squad over here?” 
George smiled at him, nodding at Tyler, cracking his knuckles, “Just somebody who doesn’t like your face.” 
Your voice was hoarse, vocal cords feeling like they were being dragged over jagged rocks, when you asked, “What the hell are you doing here, Tyler?” 
He didn’t even give you the courtesy of looking at you when he replied, “Respect! What else? 
Jake scoffed with amusement, "By wearing that dirty sweater and showing up here drunk and messed up? You're doing a great job, really. I applaud you."
Tyler doubled back with that all-too-familiar smug smirk, " Alright, saw through that one, did you,” He chuckled before he teased. “I came to see how Sadie's holding up. It must be hard, having her favourite play-hero away. Unless you've moved up from being her 'uncle' to something more."
Jake's face immediately paled, his entire demeanour changing from cocky to pure rage in a fraction of a second. The atmosphere in the room grew dense with tension. "You say her name again, and I'll make sure it's the last word you ever speak."
Still grinning but with an undercurrent of faux uncertainty, Tyler raised his hands in mock surrender, "Just stating facts, Jake."
George, sensing the danger in his brother, whispered a warning, "Easy, Jake."
But Jake's voice came out as a dangerous whisper, all restraint seemingly gone, "You wanna dance? Let's fucking dance."
Jake charged, tackling Tyler to the ground as you stood there wide-eyed and in shock. Rooster and Coyote flanked the grappling pair while George kneeled, calling out to Jake all the spots Tyler was leaving himself open. The sound of flesh hitting flesh accompanied Jake’s punches, and you couldn't bring yourself to look away.
A startled cry escaped your lips as you felt someone put their hands on your cheeks, turning you away from the fight and wiping away your tears. Bob had somehow found his way into the bar with you and was currently forcing you to stare at his face.
“Nope, you don’t need to witness any of this.”
"How much trouble are they going to get into because of this?" you asked, scared out of your mind. Bar fights were a thing that could get you kicked out of the Navy.
Bob glanced over to the fight. Nat was walking towards the back door, her phone pressed to her ear, no doubt calling the police. As his eyes tracked back to Tyler, George and Javy had now joined the fight, the elder Seresin brother grabbing Tyler by the back of his neck and his belt, tossing him like a bale of hay onto the top of a nearby table as Rooster surprisingly helped Jake up from the floor.
The legs splintered under the force with a sickening crack. It wasn’t until you shuttered at the sound and let out a soft whimper between his hands he remembered you asked him a question.
"None," his voice was firm. "As far as anyone knows, he walked in here like that."
"Bob..." you whimpered. He stroked a piece of hair away from your face soothingly. "I'm not going to be the one that says he doesn't deserve what's coming to him. Tyler’s not walking out of here now. He literally signed his own death sentence."
Deep down, you knew that. Tyler against not one, but three navy pilots and Jake’s brother? There was no way he was walking away from that.
The sound of glass shattering caused you to jolt again.
"Penny's so going to fire me after this," you managed to say through tears. Bob gave you an affectionate smile. "No way, you're the best bartender she's had in years. You put up with so much shit, and Sadie would no doubt give her two cents. She seems to be doing that a lot lately."
"Bobby..." you huffed through a sob. "You've never heard you swear before."
He shrugged, wiping away one of your tears. "I guess there's a first time for everything."
Bob hadn't covered your ears. He was only keeping your eyes off the ongoing violence. So you could hear everything going on. There were no more crashes, glass breaking, or wood splitting in two. You could only hear the rhythmic sound of flesh hitting hard flesh.
The next cry out of Tyler's mouth made you stiffen.
"I'm sorry, Elizabeth!" he gave an almost whine as Bradley laid a punch to his stomach. "I'm sorry for all of it!"
Oh.
Fuck.
No.
Where you were once scared, pure anger builds in your stomach. You pull Bob’s hands away from your face, swatting away his feeble attempts to reach for you. You marched towards the exit doors of the bar, rounding the corner to get to the group.
Jake saw you approaching first with a sharp lift of his head, tapping George on the shoulder, who looked up at his brother before his eyes landed on you, catching on instantly. He grabbed Tyler by the back of his sweater, hoisting him up onto his knees before changing his grip to the middle of his back. Jake gritted his teeth as he tugged Tyler's head back with a vice grip on his hair.
You kneeled down in front of him, taking in his face.
Even bruised and bloody, Tyler looked nothing like the egotistical sociopath you knew him to be. Nothing like the villain that stalked you months before this or when he walked into the bar all those weeks ago.
This version of Tyler looked desperate, unhinged, but on the verge of a last straw. You couldn't say seeing that white hoodie stained red was unpleasurable. To say he had nothing left to lose was one thing, but seeing it across his battered face was another.
“You’re sorry?” you snarked. “You’re sorry you abused my sister? Are you sorry you killed her? Sorry, you tried to kidnap my niece?!”
You wanted to nail him across the face. You wanted to know the absolute pain and heartache and suffering he had put you through. He took Ridley from you. He hurt Sadie. He hurt you.
But then you took in the room, Jake and George kneeling behind him. Bradley and Javy standing by, ready to pounce the second he might try to escape. And the state of the bar, the damage sobering your thoughts.
No questions asked.
You noticed the ties of his sweater were out of place. Lifting your hand, you fixed one back into place, smoothing the string down before looking him dead in the eye.
"I could fucking care less."
Approaching sirens could be heard outside the bar, making everyone hold their punches. You stood, turning your back on the display to rejoin Bob, who had followed you out from the relative safety of the bar.
You wouldn't give Tyler the satisfaction. Ultimately, he was still a narcissist, wanting a reaction.
"Tie him up," you heard Jake command. Despite Bob urging you not to look once again, you couldn't help yourself. You needed to see this. To see Tyler caught and unable to do anything but accept his fate.
You needed to know you and Sadie were safe.
Coyote was handing George a sailor's rope he had torn off the wall, having pulled the twisted pieces apart. Jake pressed his knee down onto Tyler's back, pinning him to the floor as George quickly hog-tied his hands together, not that he'd be going anywhere. The group of men had done enough damage. Tyler wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.
Everything happened so quickly in the moments after. The police burst through the front door. George was holding up some sort of badge, and you were suddenly rushed out into the parking lot by Bob and Nat.
Penny was already there, greeting you outside with extreme worry in her eyes, sweeping you up into a hug the second she saw you. She was trying to console you, tell you Sadie was safe with Mav and that you would be alright. You didn’t realize you started shaking until she pulled back in concern to ask what had happened.
Your breath hitched as you shakily joked, “I promise I’m not purposely wrecking your bar. I don't know where these assholes come from."
Penny huffed out a laugh and a sad smile. Biting her lip, she reached out and stroked your hair at the side of your face as only a mother could. She tugged you into her hold, refusing to let you go.
You don't know how long you stood there until Nat tapped you on the shoulder. She pulled you into her side and looped her arm around Penny's, holding you upright as the front door of the Hard Deck opened. A pair of Police officers were dragging Tyler out, still hog-tied and a mess. George was behind them, following them while speaking to another officer.
When you watched the police car containing Tyler in the back seat roll off into the distance, and a tow truck rolled that stupid white piece of machinery away, you finally felt like you could breathe.
Tyler's frightening hold over both you and Sadie was over.
And yet, it wasn’t as much of a relief as it should have been.
---
You wanted to stay away from the Choas unfolding in and around the Hard Deck. 
Taking the first chance you could, you escaped when nobody was looking, eventually finding yourself sitting in Penny's chair on the beach. 
Less than a year ago, you were sitting in the chair, unaware of what was about to happen to you. You who were desperately trying to get through a book by reading the same page twice. Gawking at a pilot playing Dog fight football who you knew was off limits, trying to get by till the following Saturday night. 
Then Ridley's ex came for you and Sadie. You had fallen in love with said pilot. Learned your sister was murdered. Your best friend hurt your feelings. You had gotten your heart broken by said pilot. 
You didn't know what was worse, the fact you had seen and experienced all this trauma, or that Ridley's death and abscene were still triumphing over all that. 
You jolted when someone placed a blanket around your shoulders.
George Seresin retracted his hands just as quickly as he placed the blanket around you, holding them up in surrender. 
You didn't have anything to say to him, choosing to remain stoic as he lowered himself into the sand, sitting with his back in front of the armrest of your chair. 
It was a full minute before he finally spoke. 
"I need to apologize, Liz."
You scoffed, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. "Apologize for the derogatory display of how you treat women? Or what you said to Jake to make him act the way he did?" 
At least this time, George had the decency to look shameful. 
"If his words at the dart game weren't any indication, I know you egged him on. He was trying to get you to back off, in his own twisted away.” 
"I still need to apologize. For all of it," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "It wasn't my place to do that to the two of you." 
"Yours is not the one I need right now," you spat, lifting your feet off the ground and curling into the depths of the chair. 
Either one of you spoke for a few minutes after that. George seemed to ponder his thoughts, scanning the horizon but not finding anything. The waves were both loud and quiet, making the world smaller than it actually was.
You couldn't handle it. 
"Do you realize the gravity of what you did, George?" you said heatedly, uncurling yourself from the chair and submerging your feet into the sand. "You weren't just egging him on. You were meddling in someone's relationship because your father asked you to."  
"Yes, I know." 
"Do you know how fucked up that is?" 
"Jake doing that grand display with the darts painted a pretty clear picture in my head." 
You rolled your eyes. "When was the last time you asked yourself if you were truly happy, George?"
George thought about it for a second before he replied, "When I became the livestock official back home."
"And let me guess, you made that decision all on your own, without any influence from your father?"
He looked down at the sand, grabbing a handful before watching it fall back to the ground. "Kind of. When I got the ranch, it wasn't by choice. But this felt like the first one I could make by myself."
"You just proved everything that Jake said, right." 
You huffed, frustration evident. "How do you plan on making up to him?"
George took a deep breath, steadying himself. "By supporting Jake genuinely in whatever he chooses. And by ensuring our father doesn't come between you two again."
Your eyes searched his for any sign of deceit, but all you saw was raw honesty. 
"Jake loves you. It's clear as day. Don't let this get between the two of you." 
You spat out a laugh, a high-pitchy sound you hoped would tell him you saw right through his bullshit. "Right."
"Liz, he didn't agree with the BS I was spilling to agree with me. Don't hold it against him."
 "But he went through with it," you countered. "Even if it was some twisted idea of dealing with all the bullshit you and the rest of your family throw at him save Janet, he still said those things. He still hurt me."
You threw yourself back into your chair instead. "I don't know anymore, George. I don't know what to think anymore." 
George dropped his head to his chest, furrowing his brow. "You know, you didn't allow him to explain that day. Or today even." 
That made you sit up. "Are you saying I should have?"
"I'm saying," he replied, "Whatever happened to giving someone a chance to know that people care? Even when other people think they don't deserve it?"
"That's different."
Maybe," he nodded. "But something is missing. I think that's only rooted in what other people think, not when they've done something to you." 
George's words made your voice catch in your throat.
"Give him a chance to explain, Liz. Just listen to what he has to say. Then make your decision." 
Suddenly you were wishing for the asshole from a week ago. Because, deep down, you knew he was right. 
"George, I mean this in the nicest way possible. You have potential. Listen to what your brother told you. You can't have your father tell you what to do for the rest of your life." 
He glanced down to the sand but tilted his head towards you so you knew he was still listening to what you had to say. 
"Ridley and I... My sister... We went through the same thing with our father. And I was so young, I didn't know any better. But she got us out before any more damage could be done. You still can get out. You don't need him in your life." 
"Is it wrong for me to want his approval?" 
You bit your lip, surprised at his question. "No. He's your father. It's natural you'd want that. But you shouldn't have to change who you are. You shouldn't have to seek his approval when he hasn't been someone worthy of giving it." 
George nodded, more to himself than to you, finally managing to mumble, "Jake is lucky to have you in his life. Sadie, too."
Even after everything that happened today, you still gave him a soft smile. "You're not that bad, George,” you said before adding, “When you want to be.”
He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning upward slightly. "Don't let it get to my head. I might end up like Jake."
You reached over and patted his shoulder. "That wouldn't be a bad thing."
---
George left you a little while ago when an officer sought him out to take a statement. The night air was nipping at your skin, even with the blanket around your shoulders, and yet, you didn’t know how you would sleep after this, the adrenaline spike still showing no signs of slowing down. 
You didn’t know what to feel, the myriad of emotions thrown at you over the past week, month, and even year - any one of them would have sufficed. But you couldn’t bring yourself to figure it out. To live through any of them.
You just wanted to get through the rest of the day.
Dragging your feet through the sand, you made your way up the back steps of the Hard Deck’s back patio, shutting the door behind you. Shrugging the blanket off your shoulders, you gently placed it on the pool table, readying yourself to take in the true extent of the damage Tyler had wrought on the place.
The bar was dimly lit, save for the neon flashes of red and blue pulsing through the windows. There were splintered pieces of wood from the broken tables still littering the room, chairs overturned and scattered menus. With shards of glass and the thick smell of alcohol, you hated seeing the bar in such a state.
And in the middle of it all, Jake, sitting on a barstool with his head bowed and his hands resting on his knees. It was a stark image, seeing Jake’s knuckles bloody and bruised, his hair dishevelled. Looking less than himself. Utterly defeated.
It was a moment you weren’t supposed to see. A moment nobody was supposed to see.
And yet

He didn’t hear your footsteps as you went behind the bar to grab a clean cloth, nor did he hear you take a metal bowl from under the sink and fill it with water. Or the ruckus as you fought with the first aid box.
It was only when you reached for one of his hands, having come to stand in front of him to run that cloth over his skin, that he jolted out of whatever stupor he had found himself in.
“Liz, I
”
You shook your head, shushing him. “Not now, Jake. Not tonight.”
He let you clean the blood from his hands. Let you dab at the split skin surrounding his knuckles. He was stiff as you worked, eyes tracking your every movement, from how you delicately held the bottom of his hand to watching you ring the cloth over the bowl. The water had already turned red by the second time you’d cleaned the fabric.
You reached for some antiseptic from the first aid kit, tilting the bottle forward as your finger held the cotton swab in place. Jake hissed when you placed the soaked cotton swab on his raw skin, his other hand shooting out quickly to grip your wrist tight.
His touch did feel like Sandpaper. But it wasn't as coarse, not as rough as you made yourself believe. You halted your fingers, the cotton swab falling to the floor at the shock of his touch.
“Sorry,” a quiet murmur on your lips. Jake eye’s darkened, a flicker of something passing through. He loosened his grip on your wrist but didn’t let go, letting his fingers slide loosely down to your wrist. You followed his touch, watching as careful fingers caressed the palm of your hand.
"You don't have to do this, Liz," he stated, his voice rough.
"Yes, I do," you replied softly, keeping your eyes fixated on his hand. "Someone has to. You certainly won’t."
"You're always caring for me."
You reached with your free hand for another cotton swab, but Jake stopped you, meeting your hand with his. He brought it down, and you let him pull you gently into the space between his legs. 
"Do I deserve it?" He whispered, playing with your fingers. "Especially from you."
You swallowed hard. "That's up to you. But I can’t stand by and watch you be hurt."
You finally gathered the courage to look up at his face. It was a miracle Tyler didn’t do much damage other than a slight bruise along his forehead.
“Otherwise, you’ll go crazy,” he remarked, recalling when Sadie was in the hospital. "Even when I've hurt you."
"Jake..." his name a quiet plead on your lips.
He let his hands glide up your wrists to your forearms, the air between the two of you heated as he leaned forward, hooded gaze intent on your lips.
"If not tonight, when?" he whispered.
Your foreheads met, you more than him, allowing yourself to press your weight against his skin. The two of you came together like this, a series of almost kisses and burning moments that left the two of you wanting more. 
Except that was when you thought you couldn't have him when everyone was screaming at you not to get involved with him.
You're not sure what it is now. Because the person who swore so long ago never to let Jake be in a position where he could break your heart was crawling out from the depths, insisting you push him away and run for the hills.
But Jake's breath, mixing with yours, lulled you into his gentle pull, hands tugging you into him as you felt him lightly graze your lips with his.
What would it be like to memorize the touch of his lips one last time?
Penny’s voice startled the two of you, making the both of you jolt back and away from each other.
"Come on, all this wait till tomorrow."
Whether she was referring to the mess in the bar or your relationship, you couldn't tell. 
You cleaned up the first aid supplies as Jake switched holding an ice bag you gave him between his hands and face. Penny locked up the bar behind the pair of you once you finished, always standing between you and Jake.
He followed the both of you hesitantly into the parking lot, unsure what he could say or do.
At the last second, you turned. You looked up at him, really looked at him for the first time since you yelled at him that day in the Hard Deck, a quiet mummer and a sad smile on your lips as you said, "Thank you, Jake."
Then, with Penny guiding you with a hand around your shoulders, you left towards your car, keys in her hand.
He could only watch every step you took, watching as the distance between the pair of you grew, left wondering if there was still hope for him to make things up to you after all. 
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-Wickett ;)
Part 18 - Sapling is in-process
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