#rottweiler face story

[jikothemartian-z]

I drew some stuff at school

[hritika13-tamboli]

Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs List 1...

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Series :

Lone blue egg || Penguin Hybrid Jungkook x Bird Female OC | Hybrid au || @foxymoxynoona

Summary : Jungkook is a simple man. He goes to work, he hangs out with friends, he worries about finding a mate to take home for his hometown breeding season. Maybe he spends a little more money on cam girls than is fiscally responsible but he has niche tastes. Maybe he feels a bit adrift, but he's a young penguin hybrid, supposedly in his prime, far from his crèche. At least he's good at one thing: taking care of his precious egg. A comfort egg, not a real egg, he's not a real penguin, just a man with penguin DNA and behavioral tendencies. Just like Yoongi isn't actually an owl, even if he does stay up all night and sometimes hoot to fuck with their roommates. But this is a real love story, even if a slightly odd one.

Summer Nights || Rabbit!Hybrid Jungkook x Y/N | Hybrid au || @marginalmadness

Summary : A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long...will it?

Evocation || Dragon!Jungkook x human?Reader | Hybrid au || @bonny-kookoo

Summary : Every year, he joins the old tradition of traveling, where his ancestors have once ruled the skies. Every year, he meets familiar faces and new ones he's never seen before. Every year, he watches how his brothers find their mates, build their families, and introduce new generations to stories as old as time. But this year, something might be different. This year, there's you - a treasure worth more than he could ever offer.

4-7-8 || Jungkook x reader | marriage au || @jiminrings

Summary : you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you. alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

Love sewn || Jungkook x reader | boy next door au || @jvnghxope

Summary : You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.

Sweet tooth || Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook x Cat hybrid!Reader | Hybridau || @bonny-kookoo

Summary : Yoongi and Jimin are each proud owners of hybrids, and these days, slowly falling in love with one another. And everything could be so perfect- if it wasn't for you absolutely resenting Jungkook- for no reason?

Alpha jeon || Jungkook x reader | werewolf au || @pbandjk

Summary: You’ve been raised to be a Luna since you were born. You’ve always had an idea of how your future would be, there was little room to imagine anything different. You’d meet your mate and fall madly in love, and the two of you would take over for your parents once they got older. But what happens when a certain wolf comes in and throws all of your plans on their head?

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane || Jungkook x reader | college au || @taexual

 Summary : jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

Please love me || Jungkook x reader | childhood friends au | arrange marriage au || @ahundredtimesover

Summary : As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.

Rattled || Jungkook x reader | guy next door au | single dad au || @gukslut

Summary : "Jeongguk?" His chin quivers and he bites at his bottom lip, clenching his jaw as his eyes flood with tears, meeting Jin's questioning gaze as he collapses against Jin's broad shoulder, sobbing. Jeongguk struggles to make words come out of his mouth.Jin holds him tightly, not speaking, just waiting, trying to put the mess of puzzle pieces together in a way that might make sense. Finally, Jeongguk sucks in a heaving breath."I had a baby," he sputters out. "That's my baby.""I didn't know this baby existed eight hours ago," he chokes out, sniffling.

Lacrymaria olor || Alien!King!Jungkook x Human!Reader | alien au || @bonny-kookoo

Summary : In which you've survived on this foreign planet for more than two years until you're caught and brought to the King, who will decide your fate.

Bitchin || fratboy!jungkook x reader | 1980s au || @kinktae

Summary : The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

Under your skin || tattoist!jk x fem!reader | tattoo au || @armpirate

Summary : You were awful on anything related to flirting, guys and sex. He was the perfect ladies man. You wanted to get rid of your virginity. And he was there to help you with everything you needed. You didn't have the best start, but that didn't mean you wouldn't have the best of the endings.

Unstable || Alien!Jungkook x Human!Reader | dystopian AU || @bonny-kookoo

Summary : Wrong place, wrong time, wrong everything. And yet, maybe it's not as bad as you thought.

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One-shot :

Idealizations concerning real life relations || jungkook x reader | fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc | fwb au || @venusiangguk

Summary : jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

Night After Night || Fuckboy bf! Jungkook x Reader | Established relationship au || @brown-bi-beautiful

Summary : "Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is".... You broke up with your boyfriend because he couldn't let go of his fuckboy antiques now he's gonna win you back whatever it takes.

If i told you || two-shots | Jungkook x reader | friends to lovers!au | college!au || @gukyi

Summary : in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.

Scattered stars || two-shots | Jungkook x reader soulmate!au | fantasy!au || @taegularities

Summary : “And with that, a picture of Jungkook flashed into your mind, his fingertips caressing your cheek and his gentle and affectionate smile sending shivers down your spine as you admitted to yourself that yes - you wanted him.“

Welcome to the heartbreak show || kind-of-tsundere!jungkook x female!reader | college au || @numinousher

Summary : you’re in love with your partner in class that everyone fears (and loves) due to his stoic facial expression and the way he rejects girls rather harshly. as you get to know him, will he be able to handle your heart that you so willingly gave him to care for or, will he break it due to his hatred for people who are in love with him?

In which she's done with him || Jerk jungkook x reader | unrequited love || @minstrivia

Summary : Jungkook angst/fluff where he always pushes oc away (who confesses her feelings but was cruelly rejected) and insults her but she always comes back to take care of him when he’s drunk or picks him up from his one night stands and she finally decides to leave him alone !! happy ending!

Angel in the marble || michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader | high renaissance au || @venusjeon

Summary : after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

i can't wait to tell you, "i told ya'." || Single dad Jungkook x reader | Best friend au || @serendipitous-seven

Summary: Jeon Jungkook is a successful realtor with a big house, a nice car, colorful dating life, and a spunky 7-year-old daughter to boot…he’s also your best friend who you used to be in love with. Of course, he was never made aware because you swear it’s all in the past…until it isn’t. But going on a cruise with Jungkook and his daughter whom you adore should be harmless. Absolutely nothing can go wrong…Right?

Los Angeles Laker || nba player jungkook x reader | nba au || @xpeachesncream

Summery : being one of the most popular players in the nba, jungkook takes absolutely no shit from anybody. he could give a fuck about the press, what people think about him, serious relationships. it’s a personal hell getting wrapped up with jeon jungkook— and you can’t help but fall into the same trap as every other woman who crosses paths with him. the more you fall, the more you realize that you will never be able to change a man who doesn’t want to change his ways.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐂𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 | 𝐎𝐭𝟖 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ♡

【Synopsis】 : What if a Mob Boss decides to adopt/date a hybrid?

-> Genre: Suggestive. Gore. Fluff.

Pairing: Ot8!Mafia Bosses x Hybrid!Readers

[Warnings] : Swearing. Criminal activity. Killing. Death. The reader is a bad ass, okay. Mention of abusive and past trauma. Russian reader for Yeosang. Black Reader for Yunho and Mingi cause uh duh, my mans love them so brown beautiful women. San's reader has vitiligo. Mention of blood. Mention of being horny and sexual activities. Puppy love. Sappy shit. All the boys are whipped. What can i say hehe.

Note: SURPRISE! I know you all most definitely have been wanting me to update with another part to the dilf Au or my vampire mini series, but rest assured. I am still writing both. But i whipped this together cause i needed a little break. The dilf au part is currently at 3.8k words, and it's gonna be a long part, let me tell y'all ahha. Thank you for being patient with me, and i promise you'll be seeing more stuff soon. But for now. Enjoy some hybrids.

Masterlist | Navigation

Hongjoong - Slow Loris

Now, these hybrids are some of the most cutest and more desirable. And Hongjoong would be the type to want someone cute, and kind but fucking dangerous. When he first met you, he was in awe with your sweet like beauty. Now innocent you looked. Down to your soft smile and floral outfit. It was only until he watched you get hit on by another low-level mob boss. It was then that he saw the real you. The way you sat on the disgusting man's lap, you had not spoken a word, nor opened your mouth to smile. But within a split second, you bit down on the man's neck. He’d groan thinking you were just playing rough. But when you pulled away that’s when his men knew something was very, very wrong. Your venom had gotten into his system faster than anyone could save him. He’d be dead in minutes and Hongjoong would be in love in seconds.

Seonghwa - English Lop 

Seonghwa wanted to make sure the hybrid he got was perfect. But somehow, we are talking to Hongjoong for a couple of hours. He found himself in a local shelter for abandoned hybrids. And that’s where he found you. A very long-eared bunny. Your ears would fall past your shoulders, and you’d use them to cover your face. You were skittish, and Hwa found out that your type of breed was a product of human engineering. So you were bred to look like that, and you were a failed test. Seonghwa fell in love the moment he saw your big wide eyes. You were scared of the world and scared of humans. But Seonghwa was going to slowly teach you the joys you’d missed out on, and he was definitely going to find the men who hurt you and kill them for throwing you away. Cause you weren’t trash. You were just perfect.

Yeosang - Pallas cat

Yeosang wasn’t looking for a hybrid at the time he met you. But when he was having a meeting with some businessmen for a shipment log, you’d stroll in with a grumpy expression and fluffy tail all frizzed up and swaying annoyingly. Your thick Russian accent would catch him by surprise, and he would never admit it, but he loved the way words slipped off your tongue, and if he could, he would listen to you speak for hours. He knew your type of hybrid breed was naturally aggressive and dangerous. So when one of the men tried to boss you around, you easily just pistol-whipped him cause you could. He would make sure to get your number at the end of that day, and later, you found he was the only human you’d tolerate being around.

Yunho - Rottweiler

We all know for a fact that if this man was a hybrid he’d be a golden retriever. End of story. He holds the sun in his eyes and a constant pip in his step and even though he is supposed to be this big scary mob boss. Behind closed doors with his friends and family, he is just this lovable giant. And when he met you, it wasn’t he that went after you. But the other way around. He was at this bar, and some girls that he had no interest in were disturbing his alone wolf fun. He came to his friend's bar to get away from the clingy, whoring women that slither their way into the underworld scene. They were all the same and it bored him. And no matter how many times he told them to fuck off. They would not listen. And that is where you came in. Normally you wouldn’t get caught dead in a night club but your friend, a local street cat, needed some…fun as she put it. And you were her guard dog. She ditched you after 5 minutes, leaving with some guy that she said ‘He's so fuckable’. that’s when you saw Yunho being cornered by the snakes. You jumped into action, standing in between the girls and him, and successfully scared them away with your rage-filled swaying tail, straight pulled back ears, and snarling teeth.. They ran off quicker than a mouse. Yunho said thank you about a million times that night, immediately in love with your beauty. Your beautiful dark skin. The way your hair was slight patches of browns, blonds, and blacks with loose curls falling in front of your face. He was instantly taken by you, and like a golden retriever, developed puppy love.

San - Raccoon

Now, San did not want a hybrid. He never actually wanted one. The idea of having a creature to look after and don’t get started on people falling in love with them. He didn’t understand the fascination for them. Until he met you. Your mismatched nubbed ears, big almost pitch-black eyes, and faint patterns on your beautiful patching of dark and skin skin.. Your little bookshop became a place he would sneak off to when he got too stressed or just simply needed to see your cute little face. It would take him months to work up the courage to speak to you. And oh, the way your face would light you and your little ears would twitch whenever he was around…. Oh, yeah. He understood now.

Mingi - Spotted Deer

Mingi’s jaw would be on the floor when he first saw you. Your beautiful amber coloured skin with white creamy dots to complement. You were a walking goddess in Mingi’s eye. And the way your tight curled hair was up in a braid that held up a stunning crown that matched your sleek but classy dress. Yunho had dragged him to a hybrid pageant show cause he wanted to see what kind of hybrids Mingi would be interested in. And let's just say he was not going to leave the venue until he met you and got your number.

Wooyoung - Red Fox

Even though red foxes are common, they are one of the desirable in the hybrid trafficking rings since they are very breedable. Wooyoung and a sub-unit of men, a part of his organization, sought out these rings to help save hybrids, and that’s where he met you. Little, shy, scared you. The colour in your fur was almost gone, and there was no spark, no life in your eyes. It took months until you opened up, and then some more just for you to crack a smile. Your playfulness and cheekiness started to come out. You would run around, screaming, laughing, being chased by him. The life in your eyes was back, your smile growing and growing every day. And his love for you grew just the same.

Jongho - Red Panda

He was on an undercover sting for the last four nights. Sitting on the same street, waiting for some bastard low life that was crushing some of the operations Jongho was working on. And through these four days, he saw you every night. At the same time, on the dot going for a night walk. He was curious why such a cute little fluffy ball hybrid would be out at such an hour. Every night, too? What were you looking for? Were you just going for a walk for fun? It wasn’t until he saw the low life he was trying to catch grab you and pull you into a nearby alley. Jongho was out of his car and in the alley in seconds. But what he saw wasn’t the horrific image that flashed in his head. No, it was much more. Your sharp teeth covered in blood, dripping down and staining your clean clothing. Your fur is frizzy and puffed up. There was anger in your eyes. And Jongho knew two things. One, He was oddly horny about you killing someone twice your size and two, never, ever, get on your bad side. Luckily, he has never been in a direct line of your rage…. Wooyoung wasn’t so lucky.

[romanticintheory]

on my knees BEGGING for more price and civilian!reader. i just read it and i can’t stop thinking about all the cute itty bitty interactions- their date, their convos, maybe him meeting her surprisingly scary dog (currently in love thinking about COD men and K9s yknow?).

Like if there’s not a single supporter for this, i’m dead in a ditch somewhere

what it's like dating john price as a civilian.

john price x gn!reader

part 1

more fluff, more domesticity, me being down bad

a/n: KSAHDASDKJ im so glad u love them as much as i do!! hope this does them justice for u <3

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the date went really well, thankfully. he showed up at your place ready to pick you up with the bouquet of flowers he knew you deserved. call him old-fashioned, but he was adamant on making sure you didn't have to lift a finger for anything.

hell, he even asked you why you were standing out there in the cold by yourself, saying, "i could have come to your door so you didn't have to freeze all the way out here, sweetheart!"

he held out his hand for you to take as he guided you down the stairs, opened your side of the door for the car, and always walked with you on the side closest to the street.

the movie was a cute action comedy. it was even funnier with john because he'd sometimes pipe up at the action sequences talking about how unrealistic some scenes were.

when you told john that the main character's actor, a built, older-looking man, was used to be your celebrity crush in high school, he couldn't help but let a chuckle rumble in his throat and ask, "got a type then, love?"

"yeah, probably do," you admitted shamelessly.

the dinner was just as nice as the movie: he took you out to a nice restaurant and hung onto every word you spoke. likewise, you couldn't take your eyes off him whenever he told you stories about him and his boys.

he wouldn't tell you stories about him doing his job, mostly because he didn't want to disturb you with what he's had to do. he did, however, happily tell you stories about the ridiculous things he's seen his task force get up to.

"they sound like a handful," you said warmly, "you sure they're not your kids?"

"no, but they certainly sound like it," he leaned just a little bit closer to hear you better over the chatter of the restaurant.

"i get that. i've got a handful at home, too." you paused to take a sip of your drink. "a little puppy."

"really? what's its name?"

when he takes you back home, he wordlessly walks you back to your door.

"would you like to meet beau, john?" you ask, hand hovering over the door you unlocked.

he opens his mouth to speak but gets interrupted by the sound of scratching and a dog panting on the other side of the door.

"well, only if he's okay with meeting me."

when you open the door, john is surprised to see a full-grown rottweiler launching at him at full speed. for a second, he saw his life flashing before his eyes before he realized the wagging of beau's tail.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" you call out immediately, "he's usually more polite around strangers. beau- beau get down!"

john only laughs at your panic and took your dog's friendliness as a sign to pet him. "'s alright, love. i trust you enough to know you wouldn't put me in harm's way."

he takes in beau's stature. from the looks of his larger-than-average size, he might be a guard dog for you. or maybe you just wanted company and decided to hone in on his scariness and bulk by adding that spiked collar.

"so, a puppy, huh?" he points outed humorously, locking eyes with you after realizing that your canine was, in fact, fully grown.

"hey, he's still a puppy to me!" you interject, kneeling down beside john's crouched figure to also show the rottweiler some affection.

"i see," he nods thoughtfully, turning his attention back to beau. "you're just as gorgeous as your owner, huh?"

your face is on fire again. "you flatter me, john."

"how does the saying go? it's not flattery if it's true?" he stands up much to the disappointment of beau and to take a step closer to you.

"you're too kind."

"jus' trying to treat you like how you deserve."

it's like he's trying to light you aflame on purpose. your embarrassment grows so much you have to cover the smile on your face with your hand. once your face has cooled down, you take a deep breath and let your hand fall down back to your side.

"thank you for tonight," you say quietly. "i had a really good time."

"glad to hear," he replies. "'m also happy to see beau likes me, too."

"well, we both have that in common, i guess."

"oh, who's doing the flattery, now?" john says playfully, his hands on his hips as you laugh softly at him.

"still you!" you insist.

"hm. maybe next time we can figure it out, yeah?" he proposes, a hopeful glint in his eye.

"next time? you already ready for a second date, price?"

oh, he was ready for more, but he didn't think you were ready to hear that.

"unless you're not," he tells you slowly, afraid of pressuring you into saying yes already.

sensing his worry, you reassure him with, "how could i not be?"

he relaxes at your admission and leans forward to give you a kiss on the cheek. "i've got your number. next week sound fine to you?"

"of course. whatever you like, soldier," you nodded, the lingering feeling of his lips on your cheek leaving a tingling sensation. if you were just a bit more confident, you would have kissed him then and there.

"i'll see you then, love."

he bends down to give beau a well-deserved goodbye pet before turning to leave, looking you in the eyes one last time before leaving for home.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Cream] 1/2

Jimin and Yoongi share one major problem when it comes to you and Jungkook- they're not hybrids, which means there's things in life they can never fully understand. But that's what you've got each other now for. And he can't wait to get a taste.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past trauma, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, just hybrid things (scenting, grooming, biting, licking, scruffing, and more), hurt & comfort, heat, manhandling, smut, Dom!brat tamer!Kook, sub!brat!reader, Fluff, SFW in this but smut in the next, some Angst, hints at (sexual) abuse, MCs past somewhat revealed, lots of comfort though

Length: ~4.3k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Jungkook has to laugh a little as he watches you emerge from your room to presumably check out the smell of the soup, all bundled up in a giant burrito of blankets, tail barely poking out from the bottom between your legs.

The dog hybrid had managed to give you some fever medication, a soft laugh having escaped him as he realized that almost all the medication for you is more so branded towards kittens than actual adult feline hybrids- something Jimin explained was the only way you'd take any of it.

You're so terribly spoiled- but Jungkook can't blame him for doing so.

"M'sorry.." You slur, simply leaning your body against his, face buried in his chest as you rub your forehead against his clothes. "you were probably really.. excited.." You mumble, and he chuckles, a hand on your back- or more so all the blankets wrapped around you.

"Don't apologize." he reassures you, stirring the pot with soup on the stove before he turns off the heat. "I'm more worried about you than anything else. And I told you we wouldn't have to do anything anyways, so no issues there at all." He jokes, though you just stay in your position stubbornly.

Jungkook can really just assume what's happening to you- his internet research and general knowledge from his job offering him a few pieces to the puzzle here and there. It's clear that it's some sort of trauma response- but Jimin had told him that there's nothing documented that would explain why you sometimes fall into such a state during your heat, while other times, you'd be fine. Something Jungkook had found could be that your mind simply 'locked' any memory of something happening- making your body remember, but not your mind. It happens in some hybrids who'd suffered traumatic events in their pasts- and from the looks of it all, that might just be what's going on with you.

All Jungkook really wants however, is to make sure you're alright. He doesn't need to know your past- only your future matters, and he wants to paint it in colors nowhere near as sad as you sometimes look.

"Jungkook.?" You ask suddenly, voice muffled into the fabric of his sweater, and he hums, moving his hands to hold your face in his palms so you can look at him- which you don't do, averting your eyes from him. "Will you.. stay with me?" You ask, and before he can answer, you add on; "..even though I'm me?"

For a moment, he can only hear the clock in the kitchen ticking, his entire body frozen in place as he realizes what you're really asking him.

So he was right all along.

You're scared of being left alone, and he knew this already-

but he might've just figured out what happened to you in the past to cause your body to shut down every time you hit your heat.

Abandonment. Someone had just left you during you most vulnerable time.

"I'll stay with you forever if you want me to." He says, teasingly squishing your cheeks a little, making you pout at him with a playful glare. "No matter if you're sick, or if you're annoying, or if you're angry, or sad-" He rants, tail wagging when you start to smile. "-so stop worrying, and let me be your guard dog." He jokes, making you laugh, before you cough a little.

"You're an idiot!" You laugh, before he lifts you up, blankets and all, to sit you down on one of the kitchen chairs-

boldly pecking your cheek.

"Well, I'm your idiot now."

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"I'm going over-" Jimin suddenly says, Yoongi however reaching out to grab his wrist and hold him back.

"Park Jimin, my hybrid is currently busy spoon-feeding soup to your blanket burrito over there, she's fine." He sighs, before nodding over to the window, where Jimin can actually in fact see your legs happily kicking around on the chair, while Jungkook feeds you, most likely because you refuse to untangle yourself from the blanket. "Jimin, I have been wondering something. And I want you to be honest." He says, as the younger human sits back down. "Do you love her? Romantically?" He asks, and it's quiet for a moment, before Jimin shakes his head.

"When I brought her home, she refused to do anything for days." Jimin explains. "No eating, no drinking, no talking- she was like a wild animal rather than a mostly human being." he remembers, looking at the tabletop. "No one knows what actually went down in that home, since she doesn't remember, and the other two hybrids she was living with had been completely shut down last time I saw them." He recalls, and Yoongi listens intently. "As far as I know, she's the only one who ever recovered to a point where she's considered independent again."

"And now you keep seeing her back in that state, and it scares you so much you rather avoid any negative situation so she doesn't fall back." Yoongi finishes.

"At first, I was walking on eggshells around her." Jimin runs a hand over his face. "One step forward, two steps back. It was a constant push and pull." He explains. "One day she'd make amazing progress, and then the next she'd be back at square one just because I accidentally did something that would set her off. It was.. frustrating, as bad as it sounds."

"It's not a bad thing to admit that it was tough." Yoongi reassures. "It doesn't mean you demean her just by saying that she was a challenge. I can't imagine how hard it must've been to work through all of it on your own."

"I knew that at some point, she was using things to her advantage. She was using me-" He sighs, "-and I let her. Because I knew that she didn't do it because she was a bad person."

"She was just in survival mode." The older human agrees, and Jimin nods with glossy eyes, feeling relieved that his partner seems to understand.

"And at some point, it just became.. okay. I felt content being her punching bag if it meant she was getting better. So I let her bite, and scratch, and yell. It was fine." He nods to himself. "And then.. she changed. Became so soft." the younger human almost whispers. "I don't- you might not really believe it, but she can be so sweet. Once you push past all her nasty walls and all that acting tough, she's an angel. She really is."

"I mean, I've seen glimpses of it, here and there. So I believe you." Yoongi chuckles. "And I think I understand your feelings towards her too. You're.. similar to me and Jungkook, I guess." He shrugs. "It's more of a.. caretaker situation. I feel responsible, in a way, since I practically raised him through his teenage years. Every flaw he now has somewhat falls back onto me." He laughs to himself. "I love him. Not intimately, or romantically- just.."

"Just love." Jimin says, nodding. "Nothing else. Just pure affection."

"Exactly." Yoongi nods.

And for a moment, both of them just look at each other-

enjoying the feeling of knowing that finally, someone else seems to understand.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Due to his job, Jungkook has become pretty good at recognizing behaviors and adjusting his own accordingly. And he realizes quickly that your body and your mind are terribly disconnected in one way or another- making it a bit tough to figure out how to place his steps to make you feel comfortable.

Your mind is clearly content, happy and relaxed around him. You're purring against his chest right now, belly filled with warm soup and fever slowly coming down little by little, giving you finally a chance at proper rest. Your body, however, is still on high alert- ears constantly moving, tail never staying still, muscles tense in case you need to escape from whatever might happen.

He's basically forced to work with two sides of you at the same time- and upsetting one, could send the other into a panic at any time, due to your heat.

But he's got an ace up his sleeve- he's just as much of a hybrid as you are. And he noticed some things that work very well on you already.

You've currently started to roll around next to him on the bed- uncaring if your blankets or pillows fall down. It's clear that you're starting to become comfortable again, to the point of your heat actually making you interested again. And it also brings out your personality once more- as you playfully bite after him whenever he tries to touch you. You clearly initiate every contact first- from bumping your head into his body, to actually laying over him and holding onto his arms. But the moment he moves towards you, you bite, kick, or push at him again- and he knows that it's your instincts kicking in.

Jungkook has had sex before. He's not innocent in the slightest, and yet, he's sure that once you're ready for that with him, you'll be able to give him something he's been missing in every experience he's had before;

something wild, and untamed.

"Stop biting me you gremlin." Jungkook laughs while he watches you dig your teeth into the skin of his forearm that you hold onto- though you're not breaking skin whatsoever. It's just a play-bite, and neither is he mad about it. "You wanna get up and eat something?" He asks, and you finally let go, roll onto your back, and huff.

"No." You whine. "But I'm hungry." You complain further, and he chuckles.

"So what is it then?" He wonders, and your tail smacks loudly onto the bed.

"I wanna eat!" You complain, arms crossed. "But here!" You say, and he shakes his head.

"You're not eating in bed." He denies. "Once your heat breaks through you'll spend enough time here." He tells you, and at that, you begin to squirm a bit uncomfortably. He's noticed it some time ago already, can only really assume the contents of your most recent dream you had while sleeping next to him-

he somehow hopes he was a part of it. Maybe even the main part of it.

He can sense that you're slowly breaking out of your fever, but you're not yet there- there's still a certain sense of distrust you seem to have, and he fully understands and respects that. After all, considering this will be your first heat and first sexual experience, there has to be some sort of anxiety within you. He can only imagine how intimidating everything must be to you.

"How do you feel?" He asks, carefully reaching out to run a hand over your naked shoulder- an action you now let happen, no longer in a playful mood than before. "Hm?" He asks when you just cringe and whine, slowly sitting up.

"Dunno.." You mumble. "Don't wanna.. do stuff yet though. Sorry." You say, when he moves around on the bed, now sitting on his heels in front of you, hands on your cheeks.

"I'm not here just to take advantage of you, or have my fun with your body." He explains to you in a serious manner. "I'm not here just to have sex with you and satisfy myself." He says. "I'm here because I want to take care of you, and because I want to help you."

"Yeah and like, help is gonna-" You start, but he shakes his head.

"Help is gonna be what it's gonna be. Even if you don't want any help in that department at all, I'll still stay if you want me to." He shrugs.

"I want that." You say, grabbing and holding onto his sweater, pulling it towards you. "You gotta stay. Or I'll get sad." You tell him, flopping down into your side on the bed, and he grins, leaning down towards you.

"And we don't want you being sad, right?" He hums lowly, making you nod softly, almost shy.

"If I get sad I won't let you see me naked." You boldly tell him, and he laughs, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

"Oh no, I better keep you happy then!" He dramatically exclaims, laying down next to you. "What does a poor dog gotta do to make the princess smile?" He wonders dramatically, and you grin playfully, rolling onto your back.

"He'd carry her to the kitchen and feed her." You sing, tail curling impishly around. "And then he'd probably have to cuddle her, and make sure she's never lonely." You explain.

He nods. "I think I can do that." He suddenly says, before he gets up to throw you over his shoulder.

"Hey!" You complain, and he laughs, testing the waters by playfully hitting your butt once as he walks out the door towards the kitchen.

"You wanted to be carried." He shrugs, laughing when he notices you suddenly becoming shy. "You never said how."

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"I lied." You suddenly say as Jungkook is back in bed with you, having you laid over his lap while he pets your ears. "I had sex before. Well-... kinda." You mumble, and his touch never stops.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asks casually, careful not to make you nervous. "It's fine if you don't want to."

"No, It's just-" you huff, visibly riled up by the topic. "I don't remember it well. Like, it's like a dream that you know you had but you forgot most of the details. I know I was bad, and I know it wasn't good. I remember that I was alone after, and that I was in the bathroom- I know that I slept in the bathtub, back at my old home, but I don't remember why. I just.. woke up there." You shrug, and Jungkook nods.

So it really is how he thought. Your mind has locked certain memories away to protect you- however, the trauma responses are still there, instincts unable to forget that easily.

"I guess that's why my heat is sometimes like that. I don't know.." you mumble. "..I don't know how to deal with this stuff. I'm not sure what you do and what you don't do during your heat.." you look someplace distant. "I'm broken. And I don't know how to fix me." You sigh.

"You're not broken at all." Jungkook shakes his head. "You're you. And I like you."

"You say that to get into my pants." You roll your eyes, and he laughs.

"I'm saying that because it's true. I don't want anything from you that you're not willing to give me." He shrugs.

"Then what if I don't want to have sex with you?" You ask, rolling onto your back to look at him. "What if I don't want you to touch me? Or if I'm mean? Or-"

"That won't change the fact that I like you." He says, shutting you up. You're so used to people only doing things so they can get something out of it for themselves, that Jungkook's words have become alien to you. He's just like Jimin, back then.

Intimidating, because his friendliness is just way too suspicious. But for now, you just go to sleep- taking a nap close to him, to maybe relax and sort out yourself and your situation for once.

Maybe.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You're suddenly huffy yet again, hiding away from Jungkook underneath the blankets, and no amount of treats or praise seems to be able able to get you out from underneath them. He tries it all for a good while- offering your favorite foods, promising cuddles, even getting Jimin for you- but you refuse to come out and face him any longer.

He's not sure what happened after your little talk, but he's determined to find out.

"You can leave now!" You hiss underneath the heavy blanket, and he sighs, sitting cross-legged on the bed instead, not moving an inch. You're stubborn- but he's got the better patience of you both, so he decides to just wait it out for now, instead of getting you out underneath. He'd risk setting you off again- and he's not sure if he could handle the guilt of being the one to cause you distress. "Go away!" You yell again, but to no avail. He's not moving.

"Not until you tell me why." He responds to you calmly, and suddenly, your face pokes out the blanket, eyes red from crying, face clearly angry.

"I'm not in heat anymore, you can go now..!" You huff, and he tilts his head a bit confused, unsure what you're talking about.

"What do you mean?" He asks, and you just hide underneath the blanket again.

"I don't know, I'm just not anymore, so you can fuck off!" You growl, pulling the edges of the blanket close.

Jungkook thinks for a good moment. Maybe you're confused? You clearly still smell like you're in heat- more than ever, in fact, but your mind is pretty obviously not anymore, which doesn't make sense. And even if you weren't anymore, why do you suddenly seem to hate his presence?

"Do you think I only wanted you.. because you're in heat?" Jungkook wonders, tests the waters, and your silence tells him everything. He sighs loudly, and pulls on the blanket, easily overpowering you and taking away your hiding spot. And just as you try and get away, he pins you down instead by your wrists, leaning over you to look at you closely. "I want you when you're not in heat too. I want you whenever you want me." He tells you, and you look at him with wide open eyes.

"Why?" You ask.

"I don't think any explanation would really convince you." Jungkook says, looking at you. "Because you don't seem to understand that.. love and affection, that doesn't need anything else. Actual love isn't a giving and taking. It's not a transaction. You don't decide to love someone." He shrugs, before his hold on your hands loosens, arms rather wrapping around you to pick you up and hold your body against his, hugging you with his face in your shoulder. "Let me love you." He hums against your skin, and you don't know what to do for a good while.

He's right.

Love always comes with some responsibility for you- or at least it did, in the past. If someone loves you, you're obligated to return it in some way- you have to pay it back, somehow, no matter if it's not what you want, or if you don't love that person at all. Love always has some sort of hidden meaning. There's always a compensation wanted.

But Jungkook is like Jimin. He doesn't want anything from you- so what are you supposed to give?

Because compared to everyone who 'loved' you in the past, you actually want to pay him back. You want to return it. You want to be loved. But he doesn't want anything from you in return. What do you do now?

"What do you want from me?" You almost whisper, unsure. "I want to.. I don't know what to give you." You whimper, body shaking a little.

"I don't need anything from you." He chuckles, holding you a bit closer.

"You have to want something!" You call out in frustration. "I don't know what to give you in return- I wanna-.. I need to give you something, anything.." You stutter, and he realizes what you need.

"How about your love then?" He wonders, leaning back a little to look at you. "Please love me." He asks, a smile on his lips and tail happily wagging.

And for once in your life, never has a request been so easy to fulfill.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

'I'm not in heat anymore', is what you've said. In reality, you very much still are- and Jungkook realizes as you lift your behind up next to him with red cheeks, face hidden in the pillows in embarrassment, that you finally broke through. So if anything, you've never been so deeply in heat than right now.

You trust him enough to let yourself go, and leave your body in his care- instincts taking over as you whine in complaint next to him on the bed.

Before you went to sleep a few hours prior, he'd had a very in-depth talk about what's allowed to happen in this situation. How far he's allowed to go, what you think you'll enjoy and what you absolutely do not want, no matter how much your fogged up brain will ask for it. So he's empowered by a certain sense of confidence in his actions- and he's also more than excited to help you.

After all, you're his partner from now on. You're his princess- and he can't wait to mark you up as such, too.

He turns onto his side to watch you, as you slowly move around to roll on the bed and get your scent everywhere- dark spot on your underwear giving him an idea of the predicament you're in, inside of your legs already glistening with your slick, probably having started during your nap earlier. He can also see the underside of the base of your tail wet from having been pulled between your thighs in a pitiful attempt to somehow provide any sort of relief- which didn't work. And even your hand, which travels shamelessly underneath the fabric of your underwear, doesn't seem to help you at all.

The moment your eyes lock, he waits. He knows what you want, but he refuses to act on anything that's not your clear words. You're in heat, after all- not mute.

"Jungkook..!" You whine, rolling around once more before you kick after his legs- though he catches your ankle, holds it with a stern but playful look. You whine again, no words coming from you, as you try and pull your leg away.

"Words." He simply states, letting go of you before he moves one arm to rest behind his head, lazily watching you. "I can't read your mind." He shrugs.

"You can!" You hiss, sitting up. "You know!" You argue, and he's got the audacity to laugh at you. "Do something!"

"How about you beg a little and I think about it?" He teases, and he can see in seconds how your cheeks turn red.

"You're evil!" You hiss.

"And you're being a brat right now." He shrugs, looking at you, now sat up to glare at him. "Just a pretty little 'please' and I'll do whatever you'd like me to." He almost sings, very much aware that he's riling you up right now. He's studied you enough to know how far he can go. He'd never intentionally make you feel bad- especially not in a situation like this. But he also wants to have a little fun with you- you're just too easy to tease.

And so fun, too.

"Please~ do something then!" You huff, flopping onto your back, making him laugh- before he moves his arms, opening them, inviting you silently. He's not even gonna move for you- you have to come to him instead.

And so you do just that-

Giving yourself to him in a final display of trust.

And he's gonna make sure you'll know it's not being misplaced with him.

[morallyinept]

Frankie's Way - A Francisco Morales One Shot

Summary: When Santi turns up at Fish's door with a lofty proposal, you can't help but see red at the thought of losing your man again. My version of a possible TF2 opener.

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (No physical description of reader, it's you, bub.)

Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶🌶🌶 "You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Explicit: Oral (F receiving) because Frankie is king/ fingering. Some mild violence towards the end. Nothing heavy.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me - you’ve been plenty warned. 

Authors Note: So, listen. I got to thinking, based off of this ramble about the TF2 news yesterday, and in typical Jett fashion, my brain conjured up a scene in where Santi arrives to rope Frankie into the mission, when I was trying to get some shut eye last night. And I couldn't not write it down.

You can also thank @missredherring for this, because I couldn't stop thinking about her added scene with Frankie's missus' part in it too.

There's some mild Spanish. I've not included any translations because there's not a lot, and it's easy enough to Google.

Enjoy! 🖤

MASTERLIST

"She's finally asleep..." Frankie says to you, his voice low and gravelly, as he pulls the door gently behind him.

He rubs his palms listlessly and hovers by the door like a Rottweiler ready to take up a solid position to be on guard there all night. And he would, but you won't allow him to. The separation will be good for him.

"She'll be fine. C'mon, Papi." You tug him by the arm gently as he glances back at the small crack, listening for any snuffle or gurgle that his daughter would make. The fraught, yet forlorn look on his face tugs at your heartstrings, but you're resolute in dragging him to the kitchen. 

It's been a long, arduous process; getting him to put her down in the crib to sleep. More often than not, you've pushed the door open, wondering why he's not in bed with you, to see him on the chair with Gigi asleep on his chest and him dozing off with an uncomfortable crick in his neck that would make him grumpy the next day.

But you miss your man; the absence of him lately in more ways than one. And Gigi needs to learn to sleep without the cradle of her father's protective arms.

It's early in the evening, the sky marred by the onslaught of rain that's been pittering for most of the day, and after some dinner, for which he has a second helping, you and Frankie are curled up on the couch with some modern western love story on in the background about a cowboy and a sheriff.

But you're not paying attention to it. No. Frankie's soft, pliable body is on top of yours gently nipping indented tracks in your neck.

Your fingers scooch down around the hem of his shirt and stroke the soft paunch there that seems more pudgy these days.

You pinch it and he groans with a smile. "Didn't know Gigi had another sibling on the way." You tease and he nips harder on your skin making your toes curls deliciously.

"No te burles de mi, querida." Frankie's hands come up and rub your stomach. He pulls up your shirt and plants kisses on the skin now ribboned with faint stretch marks. "Maybe you need another one putting in here."

"No. We're tying a knot in it until she's at least three." You giggle and he chuckles with a breathy grizzle back.

You knock the damn cap off of his head, dragging him closer to you by the curls around his ears. His lips find yours and you breathe out, a gentle sigh wafting into his mouth.

It's been too fucking long. And Frankie's been a rock. He's stepped up, even when you had your doubts, your concerns.

Even when he went off on his wild goose chase to wherever the fuck it was he went with the boys, leaving you knocked up with swollen ankles and a constantly aching back, and returned even more worse for wear than he was before he left.

You were worried that he'd sink again, that he'd slip from your fingers into a pile of the cloudy, white stuff, but surprisingly he hadn't let go of his sobriety. He hadn't. He'd held onto that milestone coin he kept in his pocket, pulling out to squeeze it in his fist when things got dark.

And things were dark for a while.

He came back, different. Withdrawn. With secrets and a fellow man down. He never told you what happened exactly on that trip. What happened to Tom. Didn't want to talk about it. And you didn't poke the bear.

At Redfly's funeral he and the boys seemed... strained. Distant. No more fight nights and beers after watching Benny clobber faces in the ring. No more barbecues and football at Will's place. Santi was missing from the service. And Frankie never brought it up.

Instead, he threw himself into finishing the crib and painting little ducklings on the walls in the nursery, which weren't really ducks, more so fuzzy chicklets in golden yellow acrylic puffs. Dabbed lopsided on the wall by a man who was far from a skilled artist, but you loved them nonetheless.

He went to work relentlessly; unlimited overtime in a small chop shop in town, fixing up used engine parts and bringing home money that despite the long hours, still didn't seem like it lasted very long.

You'd cut back. No more manicures. No more expensive brands, opting for the cheaper ones on the bargain shelves in the grocery store. No more bar nights and Frankie was home with you almost constantly.

And yet, you'd never been so far apart.

Waking in the night when Gigi would kick your stomach like running a touchdown, his side of the bed was empty. Cold. You'd find him sat in the overgrown garden, which he kept meaning to mow, with a warm, flat beer staring out at the sky, only moving to walk you back to bed. Or on the couch asleep with the luminescence of the TV casting shadows over his worn face.

Frankie was ageing in front of you, faster than you it appeared, and you longed to carry some of that load that he was so insistent he manage by himself.

It made you question everything. Long nights spent alone, even though his ghost was there in the house ruminating with you somewhere, you had never felt more alone.

Clutching the globe of your bulging stomach, you wondered if it would be better to just walk away. Anything was better than this.

But it all changed when Gigi was born.

Frankie was there puffing through the breaths with you as you screamed into his face that this was all his fault. The pain, oh God the pain was... worth it. When she came out, it was like something in Frankie pulled back and peeled open to reveal bruised flesh.

He held that tiny, gooey bundle in his arms and cried. Cried harder than you have ever seen a grown man weep. You're convinced he was letting something else go too that day. And you're glad he did.

Since then, he hadn't put her down. As far as father's go, he's the best. He'd been the one to feed her during the night so you could sleep some more. The one to change her diapers so you could eat the banana pancakes he'd made for you. He pushed the pram down the aisles at the grocery store cooing at her, and grabbing a stuffed animal each time that he said she would love.

Even though you couldn't really afford it. Even though the pile at the end of her crib was bigger than the Matterhorn and threatened to crush her in its ply softness. But seeing them bond over a stupid, six-dollar stuffed giraffe made you smile.

He doted, stepped up. He seemed like Frankie again.

But yet there was still an ache between you. Needs and wants for Frankie to put his hands over you again; to put his mouth on you the way he used to. You needed him. God, you fucking wanted him after watching how he always was with Gigi. That paternal instinct of his making you crazy and now, you were determined to have him. It had been too fucking long.

If Gigi woke and cried you were determined to just let her work through it herself. You needed your man to hold you, to tell you he still loved you. To make you come for him as he held you down by the wrists and pumped you full of that love. 

"Hermosa," Frankie whined as your hand slipped down to the obvious bulge straining against his denim and squeezed gently. You'd missed the weight of him, how he would pack out your throat as he fucked it. Your mouth salivated, remembering the taste of him.

Gasping into you, his kisses became heated, desperate.

Frankie drew back, those big browns regarding you as you fingered through his greying scruff that was wild and patchy. His curls more wayward and unruly. His tan skin a little more plump around his cheeks and eyes. God, he was fucking beautiful.

Kissing the tips of your fingers delicately and sucking your thumb into his mouth, you became aware of his hands undoing your jeans. He tugged gently, pulling your panties with them all the way down your legs as he slid them off. Oh, thank God.

His eyes dropped to your centre, to that seam that glistened and called to him. He'd missed it. Yearned for it, but each time the wave of lust came, the tiredness crushed it out of him. He can't remember the last time he came. Even knocking one out in the shower seemed like a distant memory he couldn't recall.

He licked his lips, lowering himself down further on the couch, groaning as the swell of him brushed against the cushions and made his hips jerk into them.

He eyed you as he kissed up your thighs gently, delicately. His large hands on them and splaying you apart further. Your cunt lips unsticking from each other, opening as wide as he wanted you.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me already," Frankie husked. He ran his nose up the side of your inner thigh and revelled in your quaking. Your hands twisted inside of his crown, snaking through his hair, and tugging at it.

"Frankie," you whined as he drew close again, his breath cooling your heat. "Need you..." you murmured, contorting in your agony.

"I know, baby. I've missed this pussy so much."

Another kiss on your thigh. One more just above your clit and you feel it then; the graze of his fuzzy chin and whine out - a little too loudly.

Frankie smirks then immediately stills; listening out for Gigi.

"She's asleep." You remind him and he nods, accepting it, albeit reluctantly.

"Use this." He tosses a cushion up towards you and you press it to your mouth anyway. You groan out into its marshmallow fibres as he licks a fat stripe with a flat tongue all the way up your pussy.

Your thighs buck and tremble and his hands flatten them still. He breathes out as he runs his tongue around his mouth, savouring the taste of you. Remembering.

He pulls you apart, spreading your lips to reveal your drenched hole and engorged clit.

"Mmm," he strangles a groan. He suckles on it gently, swirling his tongue around and around and your squeals into the cushion are ragged and howling.

"Fuck!" He hears you gasp as he suctions his lips around your bud and sucks on it deeply.

His tongue traverses the hilt of it, the spongy flesh so tasty and sugary in his mouth. He licks down, flicking up and catching your clit, then dipping at the very entrance to your hole where he teases out more of your slick to swallow and circles around again on that bundle of nerves. Driving you utterly fucking crazy as he feasts between your legs like a man starved. And he has been, starved of you.

Your back is arching, your thighs are shaking as the puffs of warm air from Frankie's nostrils on your mound become scorching. He dives in fully; tongue sliding down into your hole, nose pressed to your clit and hums in satisfaction as he fucks it.

"F-Frankie!" You're biting at the cushion now, tearing it apart with razor teeth as your orgasm peeks it head out from around the hill. Hello, old friend. Thrashing and gasping for air that doesn't quite fill your lungs. That tightness in your belly; that heavy feeling of dread and worry, seems to melt away as he sucks it all out of you.

You've needed this, this release. This comfort and reassurance from him; this confirmation of desire that he still wants you, still finds you sexy now that your body has changed from childbirth. Fuck, you've needed it for so long and now that he's finally giving it to you, it's too much.

You feel the glittered heat of the sun burn your face, blinding you. Your body feels floaty; your eyes heavy as they roll back into your skull and you fully let go.

His hand reaches up to clasp yours. Thick, calloused fingers interlocking tightly with yours. You squeeze back as he rubs his thumb over the hilt of your knuckles. It's okay, baby.

It's him. The reassurance that you've desperately needed for so long. You've needed Frankie. You've needed his mouth, his tongue, his cock. His love. It's enough to make your eyes water. It's okay.

You blink and tears fall as Frankie still tongues your orgasm out of you and into his wanting mouth. He lets go of your hand and charges back to your clit, watching it for a second as it pulses of its own accord. He knows it's so sensitive right now so he licks it gently. A little flick. A little kiss. A soft little blow of his breath. But your body jolts like you've been Tasered. Crushed by a tidal wave.

He slips two fingers inside you; you feel them fill you and stretch you. He curls them in just the right way and already it's unbearable.

"You've got another one," he says nodding when you shake your head. "Give it to me. Eres tan jodidamente, hermosa."

His chin is sticky, shiny. A string of your slick caught in his scruff that shimmers in the TV light like a diamond.

Your reach for him, bring it to your tongue and lick it up. You taste so good from Frankie's moustache. His tongue darts into your mouth as you whimper. His fingers fucking deep and against that spot that makes your back arch and your cunt clench around him.

He steadies you with his other hand against your lower back, pulling you closer, deeper onto his fingers.

You want him. You want him inside of you, filling you up with another baby. Want him fucking the shit out of you and peppering your face with those feral growls when he comes.

You nip on his bottom lip, sucking it between your teeth as you gasp and tense. Your thighs shudder, your hands fist in his plaid collar. Your forehead crushes into his as you gush over his fingers sliding harder in and out of you. "That's it, like that. So fucking hot." He croons.

He pushes them in deeper, harder against your spot and you lose your shit entirely. He kisses you to silence your scream. Swallowing down muffled chokes of his name. Of your pleasure. Of your undying love for your Catfish.

He pulls out those shiny digits gently; thumb caressing your clit as you jolt and shake from the overstimulation. You giggle and he smiles at you, and it's like flying too close to the sun.

You can only watch, destroyed and without a functioning brain, as he brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean; humming in satisfaction as he tastes you again.

You're about to reach for his painfully hard cock; free it from his jeans when a loud knock on the door makes you both jump back to reality.

"Who t'fuck is that?" Frankie hisses, jumping up. He reaches for his cap on the floor as you reach for your jeans, a flush warming your cheeks.

The knock comes again, louder this time and the panic in Frankie's eyes swarm at you.

"They'll fucking wake the baby!" He growls, storming out the lounge and towards the front door. You smile at his protectiveness. Gigi's a lucky girl.

He wipes at his mouth, his chin frantically. The slick of your cunt like oil in his facial hair that won't dilute. He can smell you all over his face and his cock knows it too by the way it throbs.

Frankie yanks the front door open, ready to clock the son of a bitch hammering on it, but is stunned into inaction as Santi stands before him, drenched, on the other side.

"Hermano." Santi says, a small, but wary smile on the crack of his lips.

Frankie's frozen momentarily, but then yields as he steps out into the rain-soaked porch barefooted and envelopes Santi in his arms. Santi hugs him back, fists clasped together around his compañero's broad back as they both laugh in some jarred disbelief.

"Demasiado tiempo, hermano," Frankie sighs.

Your smile dissipates when you hear a familiar voice seeping in through the hall. No. He wouldn't dare. No fucking way.

"Shit. Look at you." Santi says, knocking Frankie's chin playfully as he blushes.

Frankie turns to invite him in, but Santi's stopped by your fist colliding with his jaw.

"You motherfucker!" You screech at him.

The thud against his face stuns Santi for a moment. Benny taught you how to throw a decent right hook well, it seems.

"Whoa!" Frankie holds you back; thick arms around your waist as he lifts you off the ground as you scramble fiercely like Scrappy-Doo. You're yelling and cursing obscenities; jumbled Spanish words that don't make any sense. Frankie shushes you, but you don't care if Gigi wakes. No. You just want to kill Santi as you battle through the red mist.

"Easy, baby. Easy." Frankie reassures you.

"You've got some fucking nerve." You bite to Santi when Frankie puts you down finally as you still.

Santi rubs at his jaw and nods. "I'm sorry, cariño." Those tired and weary brown eyes of his bore into you sincerely, and you feel your shoulders release some of the wrangled tension, albeit unwillingly.

You want to hate him. Make him suffer for dragging Frankie away on whatever stupid fucking mission it was that made him come back withdrawn and empty. That made you almost lose him. You want to loathe Santi for always showing up and throwing chaos into Frankie's life when he finds some bearing.

You want to, you really want to, but you can't. Because Frankie loves him, and you do too, despite yourself.

"Asshole." You sneer to him, folding your arms.

"I missed you too." Santi smiles lightly.

The three of you stand there, in the rain, unmoving. Mute. Just stunned by Santi on the porch. He adjusts his heavy backpack on his shoulder, rainwater dripping from his eyelashes.

Frankie speaks first. "You're back then?"

Santi shakes his head. "No. Not permanently."

"So, this is a social call, is it?" You question shivering as the damp takes up root in your shirt.

"I need you, Fish." Santi begins and you immediately shake your head. You know what that means. Whenever Santiago 'Pope' Garcia needs something it's always an offer that comes with a heavy price.

"No." You confirm vehemently. "No."

"Baby." Frankie stiffens his voice, hissing.

It quells you as you shake your head viciously. "I'm not losing you again." You say to him.

"You never will." Frankie assures. He turns to Santi. "What do you need?" He asks, his chin cocking towards his oldest friend; his fellow comrade. The man that both he, and you, know that Frankie will do anything for.

Santi fishes in his pocket and pulls out some crumpled bit of paper. Placed inside Frankie's palm, he reads a couple of sets of numbers.

"Co-ordinates?"

Santi nods. "Will and his numbers, man."

"Is this for real?" Frankie asks. "Don't be making this shit up, not after-"

"It's real." Santi confirms.

"Fuck." Frankie breathes through the catch in his throat.

He's dreamt of this. Conjured up his own plans for a mission on how he could possibly birth this into fruition. He'd do it right. No fuck ups. A hard out if he needed to.

But he always came up empty because he had no fucking clue where it was exactly they'd left all that dirty money. Wrestling constantly with his own regret. His own stupidity; his own morals at agreeing to give his share of the money they had brought back to Tom's family. It was the right thing to do. A small consolation to those girls without a daddy anymore. Yeah.

But a part of him still hated himself on the daily for it. Hated how he couldn't make life better for you. Hated how you both had to struggle and just get by on his paltry income doing something he loathed now, not flying anymore, when his hands had held millions in them once.

Frankie takes off his cap and runs his hand through his hair and plonks it back on and sighs. You watch as Frankie retreats to the step and sits himself down on it with a wet thud.

"What is it?" You question. Frankie looks up at you, eyes molten and reluctant. But he can't keep this from you anymore.

"We're going to get it. We need you." Santi presses.

"We? You sweettalked Benny and Will already?" Frankie confirms nodding. Of course he had.

"All of us have to go back. Together." Santi confirms. "Need my best pilot."

Frankie snickers, his shoulders rising and falling as he absorbs it, works through the possibilities. The successes. The simplicities. The mourning of leaving you alone again. Of leaving Gigi. Even for just one night seems unbearable.

You stand there, toes numbing out to the cold and wet as Frankie looks up at you earnestly.

He speaks to Santi, but looks at you. Eyes locked on yours. "I've got the baby now. I have to come back. We can't fuck this up."

You start to sink a little. But Frankie's eyes confirm to you that whatever this is, it's worth the risk.

Santi nods too. "In and out. No-one knows it's there but us."

You shake your head slowly, but Frankie nods once at you. It's okay, baby. We're gonna be okay.

Frankie turns to Santi and stands. "Whatever plan you have, scrap it. We're doing this my fucking way or not at all. You hear me?"

MASTERLIST

Gah! I am excited at the prospect of a Frankie part 2 in a possible TF2! Hope you enjoyed this! Re-blogs & comments fuel me. Ta muchly! 🖤

[asterdisaster06]

Rottweiler's Callsign Story

platonic 141 x reader

summary > The mission was supposed to be an easy in and out stealth operation; however, you getting cornered by enemy guards that weren't drawn out by the team's distraction left you to desperation. Such circumstances resulting in unsavory acts needed to get out alive and back to your team. Half the blood on you might not even be yours, but you're out alive and safe.

word count > 5.6k

warnings > graphic description of blood and violence, like i'm not kidding. medical terms used to describe some of the gore. reader is described like a feral dog.

ao3

You had always been quite animalistic in your ways, vocal on the battlefield with snarls and hisses escaping your lips through the sheer effort of your tyranny. Grunts and growls being a point made to enemies you faced before absolutely thrashing them to death. Your skills with a gun whether a handgun or an assault rifle were top tier, your training made sure of it, but your real talent laid in hand to hand combat. Specializing in utilizing your own body and surroundings to tear your enemy down. It was something that had confused and yet impressed your teammates on the taskforce. They stared at you with something akin to visceral horror and pure adoration when you save their asses more than they can count. 

Whether that comes from tackling the one on top and pinning them by their throat or managing to spot an enemy that they had missed on their six. Either way, any way, they were significantly impressed by you and your prowess. Your expertise offered something new to the group. Your bones held your pride that was either to be completely snapped or remain unwounded. Your muscles flexed to show the pride that was your mortal self. Your teeth were bared to the world like a stray dog. And in a sense, that was what you were.

You were found by Laswell and Price with your fur matted and your teeth too sharp from eating trash-thrown bones. Metaphorically of course. Literally though, they were your saviors. She took you off the previous military base you would’ve died on and Price raised you like his own flesh and blood. He took the limping, ugly mutt and showed a kindness you had always heard directed at others but never you. You learned to not bite at the hand that feeds you. 

The others came later once you were settled in - learning very little of your past; only knowing what you had seethed through tight lipped smiles. At that point you were known simply as ‘hound’ to them. You’re not entirely sure how or when it came about, but it seemed to fit you for the moment. 

You weren’t exactly talkative, similar to Ghost in that aspect. That’s not to say that you didn’t learn to open up and trust, especially when you were on a mission that required trust and teamwork. Collaboration and communication were the foundation for the taskforce, and it wasn’t something you could opt out of. You mostly sat back and smiled at a few of the jokes shared, but the one time you spoke to add onto the dark humor from Simon scared the shit out of them. Even Simon was a little caught off guard despite his vehement denial. It was the start of the blossoming friendship between you and the team. 

This particular mission was no different than the others. Or at least, it shouldn’t have been. Unfortunately, the world had different plans in mind for you and the boys. 

Soap had been talking your ear off and you listened in with a small smile on your face at his antics. It was amusing to you that he wasn’t put off by your scars, both physical and mental. He looked past them, not quite ignoring them but not pushing for you to spill the story behind them all if you weren’t ready. You were forever grateful for that. Gaz was in a similar vein, learning to eventually see you for who you were. Sometimes he poked and prodded you, but only in the intentions of helping you. Especially when you refused to see a therapist. Not after the last incident.

Ghost respected you at face value. The mask was who you were to him, and it didn’t make a difference in the slightest for your identity. It was a refreshing contrast to the other two who were not exactly openly prying, but their curiosity emitted from them like radiation. And you didn’t need a geiger counter to see that being near them would eventually unravel your DNA containing your secrets. Ghost simply left your skeletons in the closet lie. A needed deviation in your life. 

This mission required you to sneak into the compound in order to collect intel about nuclear weapons that a recent terrorist group had gotten their hands on. Obviously, that was a paramount issue that Shepherd had wanted the taskforce to take care of. Your boys would be creating a distraction away from your position, eventually creating a path to your location for a safe exfil after they had planted bombs around the compound. This establishment wasn’t going to be left standing after you guys were done with it if you could help it. 

“Is everyone clear on their positions?” Price’s voice breaks through the disassociation your mind had thrust you into. 

The ringing in your ears faded as the chatter began to quiet down and focus was injected into your veins. There was a small nagging feeling in the back of your mind, but you brushed it off as simple leftovers of anxiety growing mold in the fridge of your consciousness. You responded with a simple affirm alongside the rest of the team, eyes beginning to lose the dazed look within the cornea. You blink once and then twice as you take in your surroundings and run your tongue over your sharpened canines. 

Your muscles tense with anticipation, letting your legs carry you out of the truck that was about one klick from the objective. You were to be going on foot from here to avoid raising suspicion. The treeline would offer some cover for the infiltration attempt, the leaves in full swing. Unfortunately that also meant so were the bugs and thorns. You would just have to deal with it, although Soap wasn’t so easily placated.

“Fucking hell,” Soap exclaims, swatting at a very vague buzz that was swarming him.

“Here,” Gaz says, throwing Soap a can of bug spray. 

The droning and whirl of wings belonging to insects that lived long before humanity came about offers you a weird amount of comfort. It’s almost a commiseration of sorts between the creatures that nobody wanted around. You and the acarids. Nonetheless, you cover yourself in a self assumed shield of the spray that sticks to your skin in a way that makes you almost uncomfortable. The thorns and sticks pricking you through your tactical gear brings you relief. The opposite from what you presumed the others were experiencing.

It’s not like you were a masochist, peace and comfort have just never quite been something you’ve gotten used to. It’s what you’ve known most of your life and it’s what you’ll continuously go through. Much to the chagrin of your boys.

Speaking of, they appeared to be having varying levels of reaction to the harsh woodland environment. Soap has been openly complaining, although you knew it was mostly to break up the monotony of the trip alongside easing the anxiety of the others. He knew just how to utilize his personality like that and he wasn’t scared to come off as brash or even semi-annoying. You try to humor him enough to keep that spark going in his soul. That’s honestly a thought that keeps you up at night; Soap becoming like you or Ghost.

Gaz was experiencing his classic bad luck; truly trying to avoid any muddy spots or tripping on an exposed root, but it appears that it wasn’t working out for him. He had tripped over his own feet two times, an exposed root five, and almost twisted his ankle thrice. It was almost as if the woods had it out for him. You wince and make that last thing four times now as Gaz tripped over a small pebble and had to execute an almost ballerina-esque move to avoid falling face first into a puddle. It made you huff out a laugh, earning you a middle finger in your direction. Gaz truly does try his hardest in everything he does, placing expectations upon himself that nobody else even thinks of. Pressure mounting upon him that moves you to make sure he takes care of himself. You’ll be damned if you let him drown himself in the same way you do. 

Ghost was similar to your apathy, although you could tell from his body language that he was in as much discomfort as Soap was expressing. He refused to let even a slip of a grunt or groan escape from his sealed lips. His combat boots were sinking into the mud as much as Gaz, but he had significantly more coordination and confidence in his steps than Kyle did. You observed him quietly, seeing thorns stick into his skin - likely releasing the red ichor of his mortal body. Nonetheless, he braved on with only a slight wince betraying his emotions. It reminded you of how he faces his own torment and demons with nothing showing to anyone around. Not unless they’re particularly attuned to him and his distinctive micro-expressions. You know this as well as anyone, so you make a conscious effort to try and get Simon to open up to you. Not a lot, and sometimes not at all, but enough to sand down the roughness around his edges. Enough to heal him one scar at a time. 

Price was admonishing Soap for being so loud and semi-obnoxious. All in good fun, at least, at the distance you were away from the location. Given that Price was back at the car, you couldn’t exactly see what he was doing or his own personal quirks. However, you had known him long enough to know his personality and behavior. You had spent a good chunk of time analyzing the man that had offered you not only a position on this team, but a hand to help you up from your back-alley way of living. He was a tired man that needed some positive affirmation in his life if you were being honest. He had this entire team on his back alongside his position that designated him to a life chained to his work. His title delegated him to the duress that came with everyone expecting victory from you. It’s probability is down right improbable for him to always come out on top. Although, you doubt that he’s come to terms with that idea. You try your best to offer support in your own way, realizing that words alone aren’t going to cut it. You try to guide him to sleep if he’s too caught up in paperwork or offer him a cup of coffee just the way he likes it if an all-nighter is inevitable. You want to be there for him like he is for you. 

Laswell’s voice cuts through the comms and snaps you from your stupor. Kate Laswell. She offered you kindness while others offered you chains. She let you into her life instead of caging you like a feral animal. She took the muzzle off of your maw and let you speak. She presented you with a purpose outside of being a killing machine for your previous team sent in with no regard for your health or happiness. She gave you a life. One of your own. A team that you could rely on with a street of protection that goes both ways. Possibilities were opened up that you had never dared to dream of beforehand. You owed her your life, and that’s what you fought with on every mission. 

“You’re closing in on the base. Can we get a general overview of how it’s going?”

You smiled and shook your head before the Scot even opened his mouth.

“How’s it going? Oh wonderful, absolutely joyous,” Soap spoke with mock annoyance, good-natured humor shining through despite his tone.

“All is well, the intel we were given appears to be good. There should be no difficulties from our view over here,” Ghost answers, genuinely. 

“Affirm, I’m all set and ready here, Kate,” Price speaks, his commanding timbre sending rumbles down your spine and through your nervous system. 

“Remember, get in and get out, don’t get caught up in the blast,” Kate reminds you all, as if you could forget. 

A chorus of proclaimed agreements echoes throughout the trees of the forest. The silence that falls over the group afterwards makes you tense up and get into the mindset of the feral mutt that has kept you alive for this long. Your breath ends up heavy, saliva coating the inside of your jaws as you harshly swallow it down - almost choking every time you do. Your shoulders rise and fall in time with your respiration. Ghost checks in with the group one last time before you’re sent off first into the craw of the compound. Being a sacrifice is nothing new to you, but it still causes you to shudder in anticipation. Goosebumps rise all across your skin despite the temperature dictating otherwise. 

You wander forward, joints creaking in protest as you sneak around the side of the building. It’s inevitable that you have to utilize your knife, but you use it sparingly - not wanting the alarms to ring because some unfortunate soul stumbles upon the body of their fallen comrade. It’s almost second nature to you at this point and you would’ve zoned off if it wasn’t for the pure adrenaline rushing through your system.  You finally reach point A in which you reaffirm with the rest of the boys that the plan is a go and no complications have arised. 

You hear a plethora of acknowledgements before you begin to move forward with the permission of Ghost and Price. You snake cam the door before lock picking it after deeming it safe. There didn’t appear to be any enemies nearby much to your satisfaction. The less possibilities for this plan to go wrong, the better. It’s a waiting game as you come upon the stairwell door leading up to the room you were meant to infiltrate. The clock ticks down, the beats of your heart sounding out in your ears as a unit of measurement. 

Boom.

It’s the signal for you to proceed as all of the cameras are abandoned with the clicking of the gun trigger replacing the clack of keys in the office. You were all set up and ready to acquire the real reason your mission was handed out. Pushing past into the stairwell, you’re met with the surprise of an elbow to the face, effectively causing a gush of blood to start trickling down your face. Despite the advantage the enemy had from his effort of concealment working to catch you off guard, you gained your balance back quickly, and the pounding of your head did nothing to quell the vexation that led you to putting a knife in the guy’s eye. You shoot a bullet straight into his cranium with a glare, just to cover your tracks. 

You lick your chapped lips, tasting the metallic mouthful you had gotten from your little scuffle. You didn’t hear a crack, but it was definitely going to be a pain in the ass the next day. Nonetheless, you pushed on, aiming to be more aware of your surroundings. There was an odd lack of guards around the area for what seemed like the main structure. It set off warning bells in your head, but there was no turning back now. From the gunfire sounding out from below it seemed that the others would be too caught up to engage in a verbal conversation regarding your worries. Not like you weren’t confident in your own abilities, quite the opposite, but Price had managed to drill into your head that not everything had to be faced alone. Jokes on him, this situation had the appearance of it being a one man operation. 

You and your blood soaked sleeves made your way to the computer where you gathered yourself into a semi-coherent being in order to upload data from their system. The hard part was already done for you; all you had to do was plug a hard drive into a computer and wait. And that you did. You almost felt sorry for getting their keyboard all slick with your carnage escaping from your sinuses. It also felt as if you had bitten your tongue during the altercation, your mouth being yet another outlet for the liquid escaping you. You spat on the floor, maroon saliva staining it. 

Running down your neck, the blood seemed to stop at that point, trickling off into a simple seeping of gore. You consider yourself lucky, just in time for the information to be uploaded onto the hard drive you were given. You report over to Price and Laswell, a slight lisp imbued into your words due to the tip of your tongue suffering from puncture wounds your teeth had embedded into the soft muscle. They understood you perfectly fine however, and you were instructed to continue with the orders you were given. At that moment however, the lack of communication on your part about your suspicions of an ambush was coming back to bite you in the ass. Almost literally. 

A gloved hand smothers your mouth, effectively suffocating you. If the arm around your throat and its connected hand stifling your ability to productively breath wasn’t enough, there was now a knife lodged in your side. Your attacker drove the knife you suspected he took from your gear even further into your abdomen, twisting it like he was wringing out the last of his laundry. Except you were the clothes and your blood was escaping you, much to your chagrin. Fortunately for you, this particular guard was practically brain dead when it came to medical knowledge, so you were pretty confident that you were going to live. That is, if you could escape without being asphyxiated to death. 

You maneuver your maw into an opportune striking position, opening your jaws like a dog being thrown a bone. The coincidental nature of that thought would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t currently on the verge of being slaughtered and gutted like a pig. You chomp down and dig your teeth into the metacarpals of his skeleton, relishing in his grunt of pain and attempt to recoil. You were like a dog with a bone though, and you’d be damned if anyone tried to take it from you. His attempt to pry your jaws open with the hand that soon abandoned the knife in your side after the puncturing of his palm. You ground your teeth into the fat of his hand before realizing the glove was going to be an issue. You turn your teeths’ attention to his exposed wrist, aiming for his radial artery. Unfortunately for him, your fangs found their intended target and perforated his skin. You threw your head back, grasping his arm with your other hands - clawing at it like a feral beast. 

You effectively were one, your mouth full of flesh and muscle that didn’t belong to you. Although, you suppose that one could argue it didn’t belong to him either. Not anymore. You spat out the pulp of tissue, realizing that he had let you go. You put a bullet right through his eyes, spraying blood and brain matter across the room. Well deserved for someone like him. You drive your boot into his lifeless corpse, really kicking the man while he was down. Your joke, although knowing nobody alive was around to hear it, made a hysterical laugh claw its way out of your throat. Your larynx had really betrayed your deranged and volatile behavior. Your manic nature had kept you alive so far, so you supposed you had only yourself to thank. 

You shoved your bloodied tongue around your mouth, hoping to wash out the taste of human flesh. It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve tasted - that goes to Ghost’s attempts at cooking - but it certainly wasn’t pleasant. You wiped your mouth against the back of your hand, quickly realizing that it too was bloody. Red wasn’t really your color right now, otherwise you would have appreciated the look. You quickly checked over your supplies, knowing that you could make due with anything around the room or at the very least your hands, but feeling comfort in the weight of the metal contraption that delivered death at a much quicker rate. Hemorrhaging from either a knife or a gun was much more effective than your bare hands. Or teeth. 

It appears that your enemies didn’t appreciate your sentiment though, ambushing you only to take away such things from your grasp. There were two this time. They almost reminded you of Soap and Ghost, if those two were actively trying to kill you. Your boys only sometimes did that, and most of the time it was pitiful attempts. You were actually the one that got quite a few new rules implemented during training - but seriously, who stops in the middle of a fight to ask if something is legal? No-one, which is exactly why you simply did what was necessary to survive, to quote verbatim what you had said to Price as your excuse when Soap had ended up in the med bay. 

Be that as it may, these guards weren’t who you thought them akin to. Therefore, everything was on the table. Especially since they had made the grave error of giving your standard weapons a place on the backburner. Now, the only thought in your mind was kill. At all costs necessary. Your sharpened canines glinted in the dim lighting with a scarlet staining the pearly white as your mouth opened. It’s unfortunate for them that they didn’t have a muzzle on hand. 

Before the one in front of you had an opportunity to shoot you through any vital organ, you used your body weight to shove the one holding you to the ground - the bullet whizzing above you. A guttural growl escaped your throat as you turned your attention to escaping the grasp of the poor soul restraining your body. You grasp his upper arm, twisting yourself to use his body as a human shield. It would’ve made you gag if this was the first time you’ve done this. Regrettably, you have quite a bit of experience in this particular experience. 

The bullets pierced the soon to be corpse of his comrade, narrowly avoiding you except for one that grazed your side. You really were losing a lot of blood today. Making your way to safety was your biggest priority; however, that was proving difficult with leftover guards that were actually doing their job semi-well. You untucked yourself from under the weight of the stiff remains and threw yourself at the unlucky fellow who had just run out of ammo in his weapon. A simple click is all you heard as the gun escaped his grasp in favor of his bare hands. You were thrown into a chokehold yet again. These guys really did like their chokeholds. His hand gripped the knife slick with your own blood from your hands and ripped it out, leaving you to bleed to death. His mistake though was only using one hand to contain your rage filled body made of torn flesh and bones. 

You tore yourself from his grasp, with the worst luck in all of history happening with the knife getting knocked down the stairwell - sounding like a fork being dropped in the sink on its way down. You were in no condition to run or even jump after it, and the only other weapon was out of ammo, so it seemed you were yet again stuck using your bare hands. They trembled as you gathered yourself, preparing yourself for what you were being forced to do in order to escape this ordeal alive. You settled your weight into your haunches and launched yourself at the enemy, vision bloodshot and tinted red. An animalistic growl escaped yourself, sounding almost like a hyena’s maniacal laugh. Your lunge proved fruitful as your claws came into contact with his facial features, digging into his eyes to blind him. The texture of the soft tissue under your sharpened nails flexed and then ruptured. The front layers of his cornea gave way to the gooey gel similar to egg whites that filled the orbs. 

A visceral scream escaped the man below you, causing Price to finally check in over comms. At least, you think so, it was getting hard to hear with the ringing in your ears. You didn’t respond either way.

You knew that even blind, the man was still a liability. Or maybe he wasn’t, but to your addled brain firing neuron after neuron that drove you with the only thoughts occupying you being: survive and kill; well, the feral nature of yourself pushed you to make sure he was dead. You had your training to thank for that. You knew that the rest of his body was protected by the structure of his epidermis, much to your dissatisfaction. Your thoughts wandered back to the first enemy you encountered as you loomed over the blinded man. Your mind was made up.

In a split second decision, you descended your fangs into his throat, sinking your teeth into his trachea and hearing a sickening squelch of his bare flesh. The muscles gave way as you shook your head like a rabid dog, separating his tissue from their home within his body. You didn’t stop until you felt his carotid artery begin to hemorrhage. You shakily stand up, staring at the massacre you had left behind. Your jaw would definitely be sore the next day. There wasn’t a surface of you that wasn’t absolutely drenched in blood, and you couldn’t tell where yours began and theirs ended. The corpse beneath you had stopped screaming after the first puncture of your teeth - at least, you’re pretty sure. The haze surrounding your mind made thinking about it too hard. It almost fills you with a sense of regret at letting the monster you once were out of their muzzle yet again. The halfway decapitated body was left as you limped down the stairs and out a back door. 

You shambled out into the woods, faltering only twice to prevent yourself from tripping since you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to get up again after that. The rush of blood in your head faded as the sounds around you finally cascaded back into reality. You swore you could feel the dripping of blood spurting out of all open wounds in time with your heart. The chaos finally sunk in, the screaming over comms for your response demanding your attention.

“I’m,” You break up your sentence with a cough. “I’m fine,” Your voice sounds crackly and hoarse. Not that you’re surprised.

“Where the fuck are you, you were supposed to be out of there five minutes ago,” Price yells out over the radio. 

“I don’t exactly know. Somewhere out in the woods?” You respond, your head pounding.

“Ghost, find them!” Price had apparently discerned that you were in no condition to be taking in your surroundings accurately enough to ascertain an accurate location. 

“Fuck, I think I see them. Hound!”

You think you hear a faint yelling of your name, although it doesn’t quite register to your unhinged and disoriented brain. All you could tell through the muddy fog of your mind was a person. Enemy. Kill. Survive. Escape. You felt their hands on you, your throat closing up in response as you preemptively expected to be strangled half to death. You let out a snarl, baring your teeth and coming into contact with what you think is a hand. Either way, it doesn’t matter to you and you bite down with the force of a wild animal. A yelp is heard, only cementing your actions in your mind. 

“Calm the fuck down Sergeant.”

A voice cuts through the haze like a hot knife through butter. You fall limp in the grasp; whether it’s because you recognize the voice or you simply are accepting your fate is up in the air. Nonetheless, your surroundings begin to load in, your eyes stopping their constant darting around and focusing on a singular face. Or, faces. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz. They had found you. You were safe. You notice Soap has a bleeding hand - your own handiwork without a doubt. Guilt floods you, your behavior similar to a puppy hearing the words ‘bad dog’ for the first time in their life. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. You did great, Hound,” Soap begins to say. 

“Come back to us, Love,” Gaz whispers, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. 

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry,” You cry out, finally feeling the effects of your pure exhaustion. 

“I don’t blame you, Jesus, you’re gonna have a hell of a story to tell us when you get all patched up again, Hound,” Soap exclaims.

“How much of this blood is yours?” Ghost finally cuts in.

“Not a lot, just where the knife was and I might’ve gotten shot.”

“Might’ve?” Soap laughs.

“Mission, guys,” Price finally interrupts. “I’m glad you’re safe, Hound.”

The mission continues, you leaning on Soap since you’re pretty sure stumbling down the stairs strained one of your ankles. You spewed out numerous apologies for his hand, but he didn’t want to hear any of it. The go ahead for the air team with Laswell to level the building was given, and the exfil point was finally reached by your ground group. At that point, you were barely conscious, hearing echoes of pet names assuring you only a little longer and to stay with them. They plagued the darkness that overtook you and greeted you as you woke up to the blinding light of the medical room. 

“Welcome back to the world of living,” Soap says. “The doctors hadn’t seen anything like you before,” He laughs. 

“Do you want to explain why they found human tissue in your mouth?” Ghost asks, his tone inquisitive.

“Shit man, let them have a bit of a break before we interrogate them,” Gaz chuckles, offering you some water, much to your appreciation. 

You gulp down the water like it was the last time you would ever get the precious liquid, your body thanking you. You sheepishly hand the empty cup back to an amused Gaz. You clear your throat, not quite ready to delve into the specifics of what you had to do to survive, but knowing you had to. Being open in communication was a non-arguable point to being a part of the taskforce. 

“Most of the blood on me when you found me was probably belonging to the man I might’ve,” You pause, “ripped the throat out of?” You rush that last part out as quickly as you could, knowing that despite your efforts, they’re going to question you.

Both Soap and Gaz’s eyes widened almost comically, both quickly exclaiming different curse words. One being Scottish curses that you could barely make out from his accent. The other being aggressively British expletives spilling out of Gaz’s mouth. Ghost simply looked upon you with what seemed to be both admiration and affirmation. You had known he would be the most likely to not be surprised at your actions. He knew what it was like to have an untamed beast within you. 

“What in the bloody hell did you say?” Price was apparently looming in the doorway, keeping himself hidden until this moment.

You cough, and ask “Is now a good time to mention I also might’ve done the same to a man’s hand?”

Soap had a horrified look upon his face. “You’re saying I could’ve lost my precious hand?”

You had almost forgotten about Soap’s injury, and stared at him with a semblance of guilt flashing across your face. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You say quietly. 

“What happened to the good ole knife or bullet?” Soap asked, offering you his bandaged hand to hold in an offer of forgiveness and trust.

“They stole my shit, and my knife ended up kicked down a staircase after it was ripped out of me,” You pouted, the drug concoction of morphine and other such things loosening you up to talk. 

“You’re quite a rabid beast, ain’t you?” Price said, his tone betraying the fact that he was in fact quite proud of you. It wasn’t meant in a derogatory way and you knew that. You smiled in his direction, jokingly baring your teeth at your Captain. 

“Aye, I think you’re more than a baying hound at this point. Maybe Rottweiler would serve you better. That mouthful of teeth sure does remind me of my childhood,” Soap says, shivering at the thought of being the victim of your maw. 

“I hate to think of the final view those soldiers saw of you,” Gaz laughs. 

“I think Rottweiler suits you,” Ghost says. “Fearless yet loyal.”

The rest of the team nods in agreement, surrounding you with support and love. Something that still unsettles you to this day, but not in the same way facing down the barrel of a gun would. It’s a warm embrace in front of a fireplace that sends a jolt of something new down your spine. A fondness spreading like wildfire, adoration deep seated in your bones to those around you. Just like a dog, you were a fierce protector of your family, but with them? You were a tender beast that rolled over at their feet. 

You couldn’t think of anything better than that thought which warmed your heart. 

[rookiesbookies]

Monster AU

Thank you to @shotmrmiller for helping me idea generate for this

Hc under the cut for 141+ Konig, Krueger, Alex Keller, and Keegan

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

General background for the AU:

When the blood of monsters was first found at ancient sites, the first thought the humans was: Can we bring them back. And when they couldnt, the second thought was: can we make ‘hybrid’ humans with the blood and will it give them special shit?

Long story short? It did. And so the race for the best and most monster/human soldiers was born

Some side effects were wanted. The speed, strength, the aggression, the dexterity.

Some side effects weren’t. Like the voices in the soldiers heads, the loss of life from incapability between a monster and a human, and the ruts, heat cycles, & craving to breed.

So the government hires what they call Operation: Darlings - a group dedicated to their monster infected lovers to keep them docile and content no matter what when they’re on base. Each given a year's supply of: military grade birth control, spermicidal lube, and condoms and one goal - be a monster's mate.

When wind of this got to other military companies, they did basically the exact same thing.

Price

Griffin. His beard now looks like furr now and less like hair. His muscles which were once covered in thin layers of fat, are now bare. The fat melted away. His wrinkles are now much lighter. His has more energy and is much less motion sick.

His eyes now have a predatory gaze. His nails are sharper like claws, and he’s much faster and more agile. His reflexes were much sharper.

With his darling he has the urge to scent her all the time. He loves nothing more than her warming his cock, his tight balls sitting on some chair as he rubs her hips while filling out paperwork. Cooing at how well she takes his fat cock.

His room is now full of pillows and blankets and baby proofy, he cant have his lionese accidentally getting hurt? Even if its just small bumps.

Soap

Phoenix. He now runs hot as an oven, everyone swears his skin glows, and he has this bad habit of insisting he needs random sticks. Every time he dies his injuries and infection turn to dust and fade off into the wind minutes to hours after and he walks away.

His nails are now just a bit more tough like talons and if he drinks alcohol or gas he can breathe fire.

He has this craving to sit in high place too, always has to have almost a perch to sit on above everyone.

When he gets his darling he has this urge to preen all the clothes she’s wearing off her like they’re dirt in her feathers. He makes little clicking noises at her and will fluff out his mohawk to get her attention, almost dying it red and orange and other bright colors because the phoenix voice demanded they had to be flamboyant and bright to truly keep a mate. Loves to rub his nose against her like a bird rubs its beak on things it loves, nuzzling into her especially if she’s nude.

He also craves nuts and seeds as a snack.

Ghost

Barghest. A bug black bad omen of death. Also has a skull face in some depictions. A big fuzzy stain in Yorkshire mythos. Simon immediately noticed how his hair on his head stayed its blond color but the rest of it (pubes, chest hair, happy trail) turned thicker and black as the night. In the dark he can see much better. He’s less sensitive to cold. And he craves raw meat.

For other physical differences he notices how his cock swells differently. His whole body leaned and slimmer. He runs faster, and endurance is significantly better.

He growls deep in his chest and uncontrollably when people try to touch his stuff. When he’s around his team he lets out a purr similar to that of a rottweiler.

He also notices he finds it harder to stay away during the day, as he prefers now to exist at night.

Gaz

Aswang. His teeth are now much sharper. His eyes now randomly bleed but not in a medical issue. His skin mow ashier than it normally would have been but that's fine. He’s more worried about the blood. His tongue is now long and snake-like, too long for his mouth and flat.

His body is leaner than before. Shoulders becoming broader. And his ears are slightly pointed. He’s also off put but his fingers got longer and his hands got stronger.

He hates how it’s voice hisses and whispers so loudly in the back of his mind. Never quiet.

Konig

Cthulhu. Of all his comrades who were chosen, he had some of the most physical change. Tendrils sprouted from his spine, his skin turned cold and the texture closer to a shark. His teeth all got a bit sharper, and his eyes became slightly better suited for seeing in the night. The worse his anxiety got the more tendrils littered his face and wings threatened to sprout from his back. The voice made the madness grow in his head, loud and ringing. His body was an impermeable surface. His fingers had grown a bit longer, more claw like. His voice got even more booming and he was always cold.

When he got his mate, his skin warmed. The voice of the monster that infected him calmed for the first few days. She didn't mind the odd texture of his skin or the tendrils that littered his body. She let her warmth seep through his body.

Krueger

Amarok. As seen in his tattoo on his back. He notices small things like thicker and darker hair on his body and the need to spend more time alone.

He notices his body get meatier, the muscles taking up more space. His hair is growing longer than he’d like, and much faster. He’s much stronger and much more durable, the usual overwhelming stain of the butt of a gun to the face now just a mild sting.

He growls from his throat when he is annoyed now, and is very off put by it because he never realizes when its happening. He has also grown a bit, not taller than Konig still but he is a least an inch and a half taller than he was. His arms now much wider and beefier, with a soft yet flattering layer on top.

He can now hear much better and he doesnt know if he likes it. If someone is fucking on base he can hear it all so now he has to constantly wear his shooting range headphones to hear how he did before the change.

Keegan

Minotaur. His body now gets too hot when under armor. He craves to suckle a tit like a calf and hide in darkness. His eyes are not adjusted well to the lights at all, he now has to constantly wear sunglasses. His nose is now a bit wet and leathery. His body now more easily builds muscle and the skin of his feet and hands thicker. His nails are stronger, like the human equivalent of hooves he guesses.

His breathing is now heavier, his body much heavier. He now stalks around instead of a natural walk. He craves meat, the monster wants him to consume human flesh but Keegan is satisfied with a steak.

Alex Keller

Hydra. He can grow back any lost limps and heal quickly. Only limp he cant grow back is the leg he already lost because he lost it pre-infection. Physically it changed very little, his eyes turn to slits in bright lights instead of small dots, he occasionally gets scales if his skin is extra dry, and he now had crazy sharp fangs for canines but not much changes.

He also hisses at threats and keeps building nests in dark places (his room with the lights off) with stolen blankets and pillows, pulling women into his room to show them hoping they compliment it as a sign of agreeing to mate.

When he gets his darling the little hydra voice in his head goes wild. She compliments the nest, doesn’t mind his painful love bites to stake claim, and most importantly doesn’t mind staying in the nest until the nest smells like her and she smells like him.

Also he has two dicks (human ones, not snakes), one on top of the other, upper one is slightly smaller.

[ohcaptains]

lazy makeouts with abby while caressing her bare back under her hoodie>>>>>>>>>

It was around 11am, and Abby was tired.

It was the kind of tired that sank into your bones, heavy as it slowly rotted through the cartilage.

It wasn’t the first time Abby had felt that way.

Back-to-back patrols would do that to a person – especially Abby. The head man’s best solider. First pick. Rottweiler that barked when prompted, and bit on command. But there was no way she was going to go to sleep when she had you sitting pretty on her lap, mouth on hers, kissing you through to 12am.

Time was sacred, and you pair of couldn’t even carve it out of your schedules, always ready to move when called.

Moments like these were a miracle, and Abby didn’t want to miss it due to something silly like sleep.

She’ll sleep when she’s dead.

The springy sofa the pair of you had dragged from the games room and into your apartment creaked from the weight of your bodies. Abby was pushed against the coffee-splashed arm – your fault – and you crowded her into the corner by straddling her lap, arms hanging loose around the back of her neck.

She tasted like herbal tea and the sweet vanilla from that night’s desert. Her lips were swollen from kissing you – and chewing on, thumbing, when she got nervous.

Would grab her bottom lip and tug at it when she was thinking, and as a result, they always had a puffy and pink sort of look to them. Her cheeks were flushed with the red of her raging blood, rushing through her ears and down her neck as a lazy heat stirred in her belly.

You were dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, outfits matching, the stadium’s familiar draught clinging to your skin.

Still, she was sweating when you slid a wandering hand down and pushed it beneath the fabric, dragging your flattened palm up the planes of her muscular back.

The all too familiar scars of hers dug into your fingertips, and you traced the biggest one – a thick white number, knotted together by your hasty stitching – then scratched your nails over the mark, knowing the reaction you’d pull out of her.

Like the ending to a story book you’d read a million times before, Abby didn’t stray from the narrative. She hummed into your mouth, tone low and deep, and fisted her big palms at the skin of your hips, using it to tug you closer.

She wanted to fuck you, but she’d collapse before, she was sure of it.

Still, she reached for the band of your sweatpants. You caught her fingers before they could slip under the fabric.

“Lay down for me,” you mumbled against her lips, and Abby was too tired to complain. Too tired to question, and while some small, almost innate part of her bubbled up to say no, you first, the fuzz dispersed as you pressed her into the firm cushions of your sofa, thighs digging against hers, and crotch dragging lowly over hers.

While Abby enjoyed the comfort, she shook her head, readying herself to move.

“I’ll fall asleep if I stay like this for too long.”   But you slid your warm palms under her hoodie, and gently kept her pressed to the couch with your hands on her stomach. Her loose waves cascaded behind her, and it revealed the miscoloured skin of her neck, never healed completely from the wrap of a rope.

You kissed at it, tasting the memory of when you nearly lost her, and Abby quieted, body relaxing back into the pillows. When you moved to kiss her lips again, you noticed her eyes had lulled closed, and her breathing had softened. As if she noticed you watching, she blinked awake. Realising you’d caught her, her face fell.

But you smiled, and kissed her freckled nose, “Sleep, baby, you need it.” She shook her head. “Don’t want to miss this.” “You can dream about it.” “Sick of dreaming,” she admitted, tone resentful. She shook her head again, and her lips curled up, near snarling as she imagined the days on patrol when she’d close her eyes and try and picture you, but the events of the day reigned supreme. “On patrol, feels like I spend all my time waiting for the night so I can try and be with you.”

Think about the washy outlines of your face, then be met with the ache of her ankles – the throb of her shooting arm, muscles rattled from the kickback.

You tried to think of the comfort you could offer her. Brushing a stray piece of mousy hair away from her forehead, you traced the furrowed line between her brows, then kissed it gently, whispering, “But this time, I’ll be with you in the morning.”

[telekineticseance]

NEIGHBORS

kinktober day five: sweat

pairing: doug remer x f! reader

summary: you have an attraction to your neighbor who walks his dog every day

genre: smut

word count: 2062

cw: fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex

author's note: finished this at like midnight last night because i procrastinated so much on it

Moving to Milwaukee was one of the worst decisions you could’ve made. I mean you grew up there so deep down it was home, but when you finally moved away it was like fresh air. Only for you to be stuck moving back when you realized living in a bigger city would be too much on your own, so your parents helped you find a small rental house and helped you move back home.

The most interesting part about moving back, although you hated to admit it, was the fact that you could sit outside and watch your neighbor walk his dog every day. You didn’t know his name but around the same time every day, your neighbor from a few houses down would walk his rottweiler around the block, giving you a chance to sneak a peek at him. Sometimes he would walk him with a tank top, sometimes a baggy shirt, but most of the time because of the Summer heat, he’d walk shirtless.

Over time you started to get less secretive when you would wait for him to pass by. What started as the occasional peek through the blinds, became a sitting on your porch pretending to enjoy the fresh air.

You’d watch as he’d walk by, usually with a pair of headphones connected to a walkman as the brown curls on his hair bounced with every step. Sometimes he’d whistle so you were able to know what he was listening to but others he’d walk in silence.

You always thought about maybe going over to introduce yourself, or making it so you would have to talk to him some way or another, but mostly you just watched. But today you decided to try something different.

The temperature was pushing 100 degrees today so you decided to walk out to your yard in nothing but the smallest bikini you could find in your drawers before taking a towel and laying it on the grass, sunbathing on top.

You lie on your stomach, pretending to read a book through your sunglasses, constantly looking between the pages and your watch, checking the time anxiously.

And then, there he was. White basketball shorts that sat low on his hips, no shirt so you could see his waist. and his lower back dimples when he’d turn around. You continued to pretend to read from your book as you glanced over the pages, watching him.

It didn’t take long before he noticed you too, practically stopping in his tracks as he didn’t hide his staring. You decided to make a show of it, putting down the book before sitting up on your knees, stretching your arms as you did so.

When you opened your eyes from the stretch you suddenly saw his dog, charging full force at you making you squeal slightly before the dog jumped on you, smothering your face with dog kisses. You started to giggle as you pet the dog before your neighbor ran across the street yelling the dog’s name as he did.

“I’m sorry about him. He doesn’t really like people except for me and my roommate.” He told you, laughing as he grabbed the leash to his dog. “Oh it’s okay he’s nothing but a big sweetheart. What’s his name?”

“Mr.Yes.” He told you proudly, making you raise an eyebrow.

“Mr.Yes?”

“Long story,” He paused as the dog pulled away from you, standing next to the man’s legs before he crouched down meeting eye level with you, “I’m Remer. Well Doug Remer but everyone just calls me Remer.”

Doug Remer.

“Nice to meet you, Remer. I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself, holding out your hand for him to take. It didn't take him long before he took your hand in his, giving it a firm shake.

“I haven't seen you around before. Are you new to the area?” He asked, looking around slightly before returning his gaze back to you.

“Milwaukee? No. The neighborhood? Yeah I just moved a couple months ago. Kind of keep to myself. After all, I do live alone.”

“Alone? No boyfriend in the picture?”

You shook your head in response, subtly playing with one of the strings on your bikini top that ties it in the front, “Nope. Just me all by myself. What about you? Girlfriend?”

Remer took his attention away from your chest, not doing the best at hiding his stare, “No just me and my roommate Coop. Not that we’re together. He’s a guy and I’m not into guys in that way.” He scoffed lightly at the end of his sentence.

“You should definitely come over some time then. Maybe we can have a drink and get to know each other?” You asked, biting your bottom lip, letting your eyes roam his torso. I mean if he could stare at you, then why couldn’t you do the same for him.

“Well if you’re free today I can finish the walk for him and then come back over. If that’s okay with you of course.” He asked, slowly standing up before you followed, standing up straight as well. “Sure that sounds great actually.”

“I’ll see you soon then.” He responded, giving you a big smile as you noticed the large gap in between his two teeth. Not that you minded it was actually cute to look at.

“See you soon.”

You watched as he turned around, the occasion glance over his shoulder as he walked away continuing his walk.

——

You didn’t take long after Remer left to go inside and clean yourself up a little before changing into a pair of shorts and a tank top. Shortly after you were finished getting ready and tidying up, you heard a knock on the door.

You took one last look at yourself before you walked to the door and opened it to reveal Remer. The look of him made you freeze for just a moment. It was clear he finished the walk and headed over without even putting on a shirt. You couldn’t help but stare at the beads of sweat that rested on his chest, the way his skin glistened ever so slightly.

“Come in.” You quickly told him, trying to peel your eyes away but you found it hard to.

Remer walked past you as you shut the door behind him, “You have a pretty nice house. I like the decorations.”

You watched as Remer looked around, occasionally pausing for a moment as he looked at a different picture before shrugging and moving onto another.

“How long have you lived in Milwaukee?” You asked, moving to the couch before sitting down. Remer turned to look at you before walking over to the couch himself to sit next to you, “I grew up here. Me and Coop, my roommate, grew up being close to one another so after high school we ended up moving into our own house. Not as easy as we thought it would be though.”

“You’re telling me,” You spoke softly with a small laugh before looking at Remer again, seeing the confused look on his face, “I moved to a bigger city for a little bit before realizing it wasn’t the best and moved back here.”

“So you’re kind of like a city girl then?”

You giggled slightly, “I guess I am. Or more like was.”

He shrugged, “I for one really like city girls. Or past ones.”

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, “Oh really?”

He nodded, a smile on his face as he looked at you. You quickly adjusted yourself on the couch slightly, grabbing the remote. “Do you wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Or something..” He mumbled under his breath but just loud enough to where you could still kind of hear him.

“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention back to him. He continued holding eye contact with you, shrugging a bit as he looked at you. “Or something.”

You watched as his hand moved slightly closer to you, causing your heart to race. It didn’t take long before you felt Remer move close to you, caressing your face before putting his lips to yours.

The beating of your heart felt like it was beating so fast that it would explode. You felt Remer’s hands run down to your waist, pulling you closer to him as the two of you kissed. His tongue ran across your lips, begging for an entrance in which you granted, allowing his tongue to roam the inside of your mouth.

You let your handles tangle themselves into Remer’s hair, the curls wrapping around your fingers, getting close enough to him so your chests were pressed against one another.

Remer leaned you back on the couch, keeping your lips attached as he hovered over you, moving his hand from your waist to your thigh, gripping it as his other hand moved to the arm of the couch above you, using it to prop himself up.

He pulled away, keeping his eyes locked on yours, “I um..did you wanna stop?”

You shook your hand, moving your own hands from his hair to his face, caressing it as you felt the stubble underneath your palms, “No I want this.”

He nodded with a small smirk before leaning down to kiss you once more, letting his hand trail up to the waistband of your shorts before giving them a small tug, pulling them down to your ankles.

His lips started to leave kisses along your inner thighs as he looked up at you, “You know something?” Remer asked before he used his hand to slide your panties to the side, using his fingers to rub at your clit.

“W-What?” You moaned out, gasping under his touch.

“I’ve seen you watching me on my walks. I just didn’t know how to talk to you.” He spoke before dipping his fingers in between your folds, making you arch your back. You felt almost embarrassed by the fact he noticed you but too overwhelmed now to have any other emotion than what was going on in the moment.

He curled his fingers causing you to arch your back slightly, letting out another moan. As Remer pulled out his fingers you let out a small whine but it didn’t last long before he soon pulled off your panties completely, quickly pulling off his shorts to reveal the lack of boxers from underneath.

You couldn’t help but look at his length, you watched him as he wiped off the bit of precum off the tip before stroking himself a few times.

He kneeled between your legs, positioning his tip along your entrance as he stroked himself a few more times, before he slid his length in. He gasped as he slid in before letting out a soft whine, the sound of him sending chills throughout you.

He started thrusting slowly and carefully, pinning your arms above your head. Your toes curled from the feeling as he continued thrusting, him pausing every few thrusts as he would hit your g spot.

“Fuck,” he whined out, putting his lips to yours once more. The two of you were moaning messes into the kiss.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as his thrusts quickened. The room started to smell from the two of you, your sweat building up with the quicker he went, your face starting to heat up as you saw Remer’s curls stick to his forehead.

His eyes were scrunched together while his mouth parted, his grip still tight on your hands above you.

“Doug I’m so close,” You breathed out, your body heat just growing more.

“Come for me.”

It didn’t take long after that before you came. Your toes curling once more, as your back arched, the feeling of his thrusts starting to slow as you came around his cock.

Remer pulled out shortly after, pulling his hand away from yours as he stroked himself a couple times. You watched as the liquid spewed from his tip, the drops landing on your stomach as they did.

Your eyes flicked from his cock to his face, seeing the way he whined, the way he shuddered as he came.

When he finished, his eyes fluttered back open as he looked at you, the sweat beads dripping down his face and body, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“That was…”

“Amazing?”

“Yeah..”

[blancflms]

So Many Questions

[ temporary cover since I haven't gotten the time to create one and I just had to get this idea out ]

• pairings: human! Jin x black panther hybrid! Yoongi x border collie hybrid! Hoseok x human! Namjoon x ragdoll hybrid! Jimin x human! Taehyung x rottweiler hybrid! Jungkook x ashera hybrid! Reader; poly! bts x hybrid! reader

• summary: For years, Y/N had always been weighed fown by so many questions. For years, she would always try to find the answers to these questions but time and time again she's left disappointed until one day, she just stopped caring for them.

• genre: fluff, angst (I think that's about it for now, will just add if the story takes a sharp turn....)

• warnings: none... for now heheh (every chapter will have individual warnings)

"Leave."

Namjoon lets out a deep sigh as he tries to hold back his tears from falling, trying to keep a strong front as he faces the woman that he had not seen for the last six months while she continues to glare at him, fire in her eyes.

"Please, I need you to listen to me. I promise, I'll explain everything but please, don't push me away. Don't make me leave." Namjoon pleads as he looks at the furious eyes of the usually kind and positive woman who only lets out a scoff at his words.

"Explain? What is there to explain? Namjoon, I don't think there's anything you can ever say that will justify what you did. Promising something is already a huge thing, breaking that big of a promise is another thing."

"I know what I did was really shitty and I'm telling you, there is not a single minute of every day where I did not think about what I did and there is not a single day where I went to sleep without thinking and regretting what I did but please, you have to understand that it was the only solution that I could think of at that time and I know it was wrong, I know I could've done better but I'm here now, I'm willing to right those mistakes."

"And that's the thing, Namjoon, you could've done better. Had you reached out, I would've done everything I could to help you, all of this could've been prevented. Everything that happened after that day shouldn't have happened and yet it did because you did not reach out to those who can help you. You let your pride get the best of you." Not being able to hold back the tears any longer, Namjoon firmly shut his eyes as tears continuously fall from his eyes, feeling his heart and mind bleed because no matter how many times he tried to deny it, no matter how harsh her words may have been, he knew it was true. He let his pride get the best of him and that ultimately led to him losing the best thing that has ever happened to him—to them.

Hello, just a snippet of this new story that has been corrupting my mind every night. Let me know your thoughts and if you want me to open a taglist, thank you 🌼

[theitgirlnetwork]

Better

Chapter 4: Until Just Friends Isn't Enough

Note: Another Update, hopefully people won't get bored of this story, I'm just trying to lay the ground work so we can get really deep into the story. I hope you're all enjoying. Thank you for all the likes and reblogs. I appreciate it so much.

"A-and then he got to ride the donkey. Oh, he was so happy, he looked so cute, like a little cowboy.” Monica grins, resting her hand on top of Lip’s.

Lip leans over to mumble into Charlotte’s ear. “Yeah, it was a rottweiler, she left me outside with it while she fucked a drug dealer for some coke.” 

“Oh.” Charlotte mutters, offering Monica a polite smile and takes a sip of the hot chocolate Lip made her.

“So how long have you been seeing my baby?” Monica asks, bouncing in her seat, “you guys seemed close outside.”

“Not long.”

“We’re not dating.”

Lip and Charlotte look at each other, narrowing her eyes at him and him fixing her with an innocent look. “I just moved here, Mrs. Gallagher. Lip’s been a good friend.” 

“Oh please, call me Monica.” 

Footsteps come trudging down the stairs and the sound of Fiona cooing at Liam fills the kitchen. Charlotte hadn’t even realized that it was that late…or early. “Good mornin’ you’re up early…oh. Jesus Christ, Monica? What the hell are you doin’ here? The fuck, Lip?” the brunette groans, placing Liam into his highchair. “Mornin’ Lottie.”

“Lottie, oh, that’s such a cute nickname! Isn’t it Lip?” Monica cheers, grabbing the girl’s hands.

“Hi, Fiona.” Charlotte leans over the table and tickles Liam’s cheek before smearing kisses all over his cheeks, relishing in his squeals. “Hi, handsome! Sleep well? Good dreams?”

Lip watches as the girl bathes his little brother in attention, crossing her eyes to make him laugh, scooting her chair closer to him so he can clap his little hands on her cheeks. The tightness in his chest comes back and without thinking, he goes to try to rub it, soothe it. 

Fiona laughs to herself, knocking Lip with her hip and placing a cup full of coffee in front of him, mumbling to him, “Bet you wish that was you, huh?”

“Fuck off.” Lip squints, placing his hand on the back of Charlotte’s neck, rubbing the skin there. “How ‘bout you, huh? Need some coffee?” 

“No, I’m okay. Thanks, Phillip.” she smiles.

Monica snickers behind her hot chocolate and Fiona shakes her head. Charlotte tucks her chin to her chest slightly, feeling her cheeks warm. It’s not the eyes watching the encounter that gets her feeling sheepish, but the piercing blue ones looking at her intently. “Breakfast? My treat? I…uh” he leans closer, whispering in her ear as she makes eye contact with a worried looking Fiona. “Don’t wanna say goodbye yet.”

“Y-yeah. I’ll go to breakfast.” she says quietly, squirming against him.

Lip looks at her with a smug smile, backing away to rub Liam’s head and go over to the steps. “Takin’ a shower before the rest of the fuckin’ animals wanna wake up and fight me for it.” He disappears up the stairs, calling back down once, “You’re welcome to join me, though, bunny.” 

“Jesus.” Charlotte huffs, dropping her head to the kitchen table in embarrassment, only lifting it when Liam starts cooing “Lottie” at her. 

Monica grins widely, watching the girl, “Oh, this is so great, Charlotte. I’ve never seen my Lip so smitten.”

“You’ve never seen Lip for more than a couple of months at a time, things like his love life might’ve slipped through the cracks.” Fiona snorts, wetting a washcloth and cleaning Liam’s face. “Not a shot at you, Lottie.”

“S’fine.” 

“No, I know that look.” Monica continues, “Lip’s a Gallagher, he’s set his sights on you and he won’t let up. Pretty thing like you, it was only a matter of time. Fiona it’ll be fun having a sister-in-love will be fun! Mickey is pretty cute but he’s rough around the edges. Charlotte will really soften things around here, I won’t be the only creature of light in this family.”

“Creature of light?” 

“Ignore her, we all do.” Fiona says, pulling out the chair across from Charlotte’s and sits. “Look, Lottie, despite all of the psycho babble, Monica might be a little right. I know that look too okay, but it doesn’t lead to a nice house and loving relationship. It’s just lust, don’t let it confuse you alright? I love my brother, but I know him. Don’t fall into the Gallagher trap and end up the next Mickey, alright? Or worse, the next Mandy.” the older girl places her hand over Charlotte’s, “Just not a good idea, Lottie.”

Lip slides on deodorant before pulling a gray sweater over his head, remembering to tuck his chain he’d stolen off of some frat loser passed out in the hallway back into his shirt. He reaches over and snags some cologne one of Fiona’s rich boyfriends had left behind that he and Ian share. “Hey, you got ready fast. Tell Charlotte I need like 20 minutes, and Mickey’s already on his way, alright?”

Lip turns slowly, finding his redheaded brother drying his hair with a towel. “Um…what the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“Breakfast…Lottie said we’re goin’. Carl, you better be takin’ a real fuckin’ shower and not a bird bath!” 

“Yeah,” Lip pats his brother’s shoulder. “You’re not comin’ to breakfast. Love you though.” 

Lip had thought that Ian and Mickey were the last of his obstacles, but he came downstairs to a now showered and  fully dressed Charlotte with Liam on her hip, Debbie and Carl flanking both of her sides. He shakes his head in disbelief and leans against the banister. “Damn, I didn’t know you came with so many kids.” he jokes.

“Yeah, well, what can I say?” she smiles, adjusting Liam on her hip.

Lip stalks closer, grabbing the base of Charlotte’s slicked back ponytail and tugging her forward lightly, pressing a kiss on her cheek. “Usin’ my siblings against me? You don’t play fair, Charlotte Fisher.” 

“Neither do you, Gallagher” she responds, smiling brightly when Liam imitates his older brother and smacks his lips against her cheek. “Thank you Liam.”

“Charlotte said you’re taking us to breakfast.” Debbie says, pulling on her scarf. “I want french toast.”

“I want bacon. A lot.” Carl adds.

“Well, you heard them.” Charlotte grins, leading the kids to the door. “C’mon guys.”

Lip lets them all pass through before letting his head drop in exasperation, huffing loudly. 

Breakfast had been fine all things considered. Except Liam insisted on sitting on Charlotte’s lap, and she hand fed him the whole time. And the fact that Debbie asked Charlotte her bra size and asked when she thought her boobs would look like that. Which prompted Carl to stare at them for the next 20 minutes before asking her what she’s doing slumming it with ‘old ass Lip’, when she could have him. 

For the like, two seconds the kids went to the bathroom, the restaurant’s fuck ass manager came over trying to flirt with Charlotte to which Lip got pissed off, tossed the money on the table, and pulled the girl out of the booth to wait for the kids by the door.

So it had been a fuckin’ bust to say the least. When they make it back to the house they drop the kids off and Lip walks Charlotte next door. “So, breakfast sucked.”

Charlotte turns to him, leaning on the door. “I thought it was fun, I like your siblings, wish I had some.”

“Yeah? Well, borrow mine anytime.” He pauses, tucking his hands into his pockets, “Unless I’m trying to hang out with you alone.”

The girl shifts uncomfortably, looking out into the street before dragging her eyes back over to Lip, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Phillip.” 

“What?” he asks, thumbing along her bottom lip, distracted by how pretty she looks with snow falling around her, her nose and cheeks with a slightly pink hue. “Hangin’ out with me? We’re friends, that’s what friends do. Can’t help that my friend is pretty, sweet, and fun. You workin’ later?”

“Yeah, short shift, someone rented the place out for some type of frat thing, I don’t know.” She shrugs, letting him trail his finger along her face. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m still stopping by. I’ll hang out with you, make sure none of those weird guys wanted to try somethin’, keep you safe, bunny.”

Charlotte rolls her eyes, resting her head back against the door. “Not your job, Phillip.”

“I want it to be.” he says, pinching her cheek lightly before backing away, returning to his own house.

Lip knew that Monica coming home was going to be a shit show, and things were already starting to crack. Frank was back in the house, there were random pills crushed up all over the coffee table, and Liam had pissed all over the floor. At least he’d hoped it was Liam’s piss. He could practically feel his blood pressure rising as Mickey and Ian slammed the front door behind them, fussing over Ian going to some club with Monica and dancing on some guy.

Fiona was off in her room sulking because the kids were bonding with Frank and Monica, who were having their own drug induced party. 

Lip shakily smooths a hand down his face, trying to calm his rapid breathing and soothe the pounding headache he has.

“Hey baby, come dance with me and daddy.” Monica slurs, grabbing Lip’s hand and pulling, frowning in confusion when he doesn’t move. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I don’t know, Monica, maybe it's the fact that you and your bullshit are infesting this house and fucking up our lives, again!” 

“Oh, Lippy, you don’t mean that. Are you worried about that cute Charlotte girl you brought over this mornin’? She was really nice, pretty too. Invite her over!”

“Charl-no it’s not fuc-it’s not Charlotte. She’s working, she can’t come to whatever the fuck this is.” 

Monica tsks disappointedly, resting her hand on Lip’s arm. “Sorry, honey.” she smiles, scooting closer to him. “She’s special, I can tell. She’s beautiful and kind. And the way you look at her, oh Lip it’s wonderful. And the way she looks at you? Like you hung the moon and stars. No wonder. you’ve always been so handsome, she would be lucky to have you. And I think she knows it.” Lip rolls his eyes, and grabs a cup of whatever they’d been sipping on. “She does, Lippy! She’s just worried this is temporary. A cute boy like you only wants one thing. You’ve gotta show her you’re seriously interested if you are!” 

Lip pauses drinking at that. This was the first time anyone had asked him. It was the first time that he’d been asked out loud what he really wanted out of Charlotte. He’d only really known her for a couple of weeks. Sure she was sexy…and cute, nice, and funny. Not that smart, at least street-wise but, Lip liked takin’ care of her, makin’ sure she got home safe, being the one those pretty, big brown eyes look to when things made her nervous. 

He liked taking her on walks, watching her play with his siblings, and dance with his sisters. He liked being around her, touching her, feeling her, for as long as she let him. He likes the way she calls him Phillip. How she answers to Bunny. He liked her. 

It was interesting. He usually didn’t get there until he’s fucked at least five times.

Monica ruffles Lip’s hair, refilling his drink. “Here, honey, drink up, it’ll help you think.”

Charlotte rushes behind the counter to refill the beer pitcher only for one of the man-babies she’s been catering to all night to down it and demand more. “Yup, coming. If you would give me, like, one second!”

“Hey Lottie! How about a dance? I’ll add it to your tip, baby.” 

“I’ll give you a tip!” 

The whole bar erupts in laughter as she blows hair out of her face, whipping around to call into the kitchen. “Hey, Trevor! Where’s Francie, her smoke break was supposed to be over thirty minutes ago!” Charlotte grabs a tray full of nachos, placing them on one of the hightops, and slipping between the sweaty, drunk men to tap one of them dancing on the bar’s leg. “‘Scuse me? Excuse me you can’t dance up there! Sir…you can’t-”

“Charlotte!” she whips around finding Lip stumbling into the doorway.

“Phillip,” she giggles, running over to the blond man, “Oh-”

Lip cuts her off by snagging her by the waist, melding their lips together, guiding her into a deep kiss, a sloppy smack sounds when they separate. “Hi, baby, your shift over yet?” he mumbles against her jaw, pressing a kiss there.

“Are you drunk?” she asks, pulling her head back to look at his face. Bloodshot eyes. Tossing his weight around, slurring his speech. “You are. You alright?”

“M’fine, bunny, I’ll let you finish workin’, don’t worry about me.” Lip slides into a booth in the far corner and Charlotte nods, going behind the bar to grab him a burger and fries with an ice water.

When she places it down on the table Lip rubs her leg in thanks, causing her to giggle before making her way back over to the party. 

“Aww, Lottie, don’t tell me you’re pickin’ favorites.” one of the guys sighs as she clears the dishes away. “I’ve been trying to talk to you all night, that guy gets to stumble in here and you’re letting him feel you up.”

“Yeah, no, he’s my friend, and he was just kidding-”

“What, he pay you for after this? Bet I could outbid him.” 

Charlotte’s lips curl in disgust as she shoves the guy backward, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What?” the guy asks, putting his arms out.

“The fuck did you say to her?” Charlotte didn’t even notice him come over, feeling his chest push against her back. “Must’ve fuckin’ heard that wrong, cause it sounds like you think you can buy my girl, or somethin’”

“Woah, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, Lottie here had a boyfriend. Not surprised, though, a hot piece of ass like this doesn’t stay single for long. But…uh you probably shouldn’t let her work here, lookin’ like that. Dressed like that? She’s a walking case-”

Charlotte doesn’t even get a chance to blink before Lip is yanking him behind her and his fist is going into the guy’s jaw. Next thing she knows, guy’s on the floor, Lip’s on top of him and like six frat boys are trying to jump in. “Francie! Trevor!” she shrieks, staring at the guy pulling at Lip, starting to punch him from the back. “Oh, fuck.” she whines before hopping on the guy’s back and blindly swinging her fists at his head.

“Okay, yes, sir. Sorry again.” Charlotte hangs up the phone and plops down on the sidewalk next to Lip. “Didn’t lose my job. Apparently, jealous boyfriends, baby daddies and disappointed fathers show up and start fights all the time. I’ll just be getting a pay reduction until the damages are paid.” 

“I’ll pay him back for you.” Lip says, staring forward at the street. 

“No, I’ve got it, thanks.” she looks down at her one busted knuckle. “I’ve never been in a fight before.”

“I should kill that stupid fucker for that.” he groans, reaching over and taking her hand pressing a kiss to it, and pulling the bottle he’d taken from Monica out of his wallet, pouring the last bit of it onto the knuckle and mimicking her hiss. “I know, I know.”

“He didn’t hit me, I got this from trying to punch his head.” she sighs looking down at the scratch, “think it’ll scar?”

“Fucked up your pretty hand with his stupid fuckin’ face. You’re good, though? You okay?”

“Yeah.” Charlotte looks at him with big, sympathetic, brown eyes and Lip feels himself sober up better than he had when one of those shitheads attempted, and failed to break a bottle over his hard ass head. “You okay?”

“Yeah. You got into a fight for me.” Lip grins, nudging her shoulder. “You like me, slugger.”

Charlotte frowns at him, bawling her fist up again. “Don’t be next, I’ve got a mean right based on the non-existent bruise on that one guy’s face.” Lip raises his eyebrows at her. “I never said I didn’t like you. I said I want to be friends. Something tells me you’ve never really done that before.”

“I’ve been friends with plenty of exes.”

She purses her lips. “For how long before you started fucking them?”

Damn.

“Point taken.” Lip groans, stretching and wincing at a sharp pain in his ribs. “Just friends for how long?”

Charlotte pauses for a moment, bringing her knees to her chest. “Um…until things happen naturally. We’ll be just friends until we’re really friends. And then until just friends isn’t enough.” 

“I-”

“And that doesn’t mean the first time we get horny for each other.” Lip looks at her and smiles, biting his lip. “What?”

“Knew you wanted to fuck me as bad as I wanna fuck you.”

Charlotte sniffs, jumping up from the curb, crossing her arms. “Shut up and walk me home.” 

Lip cocks his head to the side, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. “Ask me nicely, friend. Only pretty girls who let me fuck them get to boss me around.” he laughs as the girl rolls her eyes and starts walking in the direction of their houses by herself. “Brat.” he mumbles as he pushes up and follows behind her. 

When they arrive at the fence separating their houses Lip walks Charlotte over to the stoop at Kev and V’s and turns to go to his own. Except when he reaches the bottom of the steps and hears that the all night Gallagher bender is still going, he pauses. He turns around, walking up the walkway again, unsure of where he’d go. Maybe the Alibi…he’s not sure. But somewhere. So he looks to the side, making sure Charlotte got in safe. Like he does every time. 

“You okay?”

She toys with the fabric of the jacket he gave her. It’s his warmest jacket, the rest of the ones he has are pretty thin. But he doesn’t want her to know that. And he likes watching her wear it. “I’m fine. You didn’t go in. Are you leavin’?”

Lip glances back at his house and then back at her. “Yeah, I’ll uh, be back tomorrow.” 

Charlotte leans against the banister, biting her Lip. “You got fucked up for a reason, huh?” She takes a step down, tilting her head toward his house. “Cause they’re home?”

He just looks at her. Doesn’t know what to say. He’s fucking embarrassed. 

“Mmkay.” she says quietly. Walking the rest of the way down and grabbing his hand. 

Charlotte guides Lip into V and Kev’s house, shushing him as she leads him to the spare bedroom in the back, closing the door behind them. “Sit, okay?” 

He watches quietly as she slips out of the room door, sitting on the bed, it creaks lightly under his weight. Moments later, Charlotte comes back with two bottles of water in her hands, and wrappings under her arms. “You..you don’t have to do that.”

“Stop. Stop okay?” she smiles softly at him, lifting his arms and pulling his shirt over his head. She tightly wraps his ribs and cleans the cuts on his knuckles and face. Lip’s eyes don’t leave her beautiful features the whole time. Watching her focused eyes, her plump bottom lip caught between her teeth as she checks for any spots she missed. “There’s water okay? And aspirin. But seriously, water. Try to finish a bottle before you go to sleep, it’ll flush your system and make tomorrow suck less. You can sleep here. With me. Just sleep.”

Lip nods, kicking his shoes off. His hands go to his belt buckle and he hesitates, looking at her. “Okay?”

“Yeah, you can.” 

He strips the rest of the way down to his boxers, climbing into the soft bed and admiring the girl as she gets ready for bed. 

Lip memorizes Charlotte’s routine. Wrap her hair up, putting a pretty, pink, silk scarf on. Washing her face, putting like ten thousand different creams on. She slipped her uniform off as if she’d forgotten he was in the room. Tossing the clothes into the hamper in the corner. She has on a bra and underwear but that’s about it. Lip is damn near dizzy looking at her body, it looked even better than he’d pictured it. Which is why he was so fuckin’ confused about why he looked away when she went to take her bra off.

She started undoing those clasps and he clenched his jaw, for some reason listening to the blaring signs flashing in his head reminding him that this wasn’t a peep show, and she hadn’t invited him to look at her.

He doesn’t open his eyes again until he feels a dip in the bed in front of him, and her soft hands lift his arm and place it around her waist. “You okay, you need anything?”

Lip quietly shakes his head no, tightening his arm around her waist, feeling that she’s got a shirt on now. He can smell her sweet perfume, still lingering on her skin. Unless that’s just what she smells like. Cinnamon. 

“We’re friends, Lip. If it’s ever…if you ever need a break, you can come to me.” she tilts her head back to meet his eyes, twisting slightly. 

Lip wets his lips, unsure and very sure at the same time. He doesn’t want to fuck this up. He doesn’t. But he feels like he can’t help it. And she’s right there. As quickly as the thought comes he’s leaning over her, bringing their lips together in a deep, slow kiss, cupping Charlotte’s jaw and feeling his heart pound against his ribcage when he feels her kissing him back, her hand sliding up into his har, pulling a groan from him when she tugs. 

This time Lip pulls away. Pressing two more pecks against her soft lips before settling back onto the bed, laying behind her and tugging her back to his chest. Her gasping breaths make him want to do nothing more than take more of her breath away.  “I’ll let you get away with it this time cause you have booboos, Phillip.”

“Don’t let that be the benchmark, bunny or I’ll get beat up everyday.” he breathes back. He kisses her shoulder before nuzzling into the blankets. “Until just friends isn’t enough, huh?”

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Milk]

While Yoongi realizes that Jimin might not be that much different from you than he thought, and Jimin starts to accept the fact that he's no longer your number one, Jungkook starts to develop feelings towards you that he's never really felt towards anyone before.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past trauma, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, hybrid courting behavior, major fluff, some suggestive themes, mentions of heat, healthy portion of angst with a side of heavy flirting, Jungkook's dirty mind oop-

Length: 3.4k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Jimin has noticed a new issue, every morning when he wakes you up before he goes to work.

Usually, you'll be sprawled out like a starfish in your pink fairytale canopy bed, all comfy and tired and a little grumpy, most of the time. But these days, he can sometimes only spot maybe a leg peeking out from beneath the blankets and stuffed toys now littering your bed.

It's Jeon Jungkook's fault, the dog boy having been showering you with things he deems you should have left and right- even worse than Jimin himself used to do.

Yoongi has been explaining to him that Jungkook isn't fully aware of the cause of his behavior yet- after all, the canine hybrid has never really been so strongly romantically interested in anyone before. Sure, Jungkook has had someone he was seeing intimately here and there before, but never a full blown relationship. It came with the stigma around him and his breed- most other hybrids tend to steer clear of him, and rather keep him at an arms length, so to speak.

He'd always been good for some fun for others- but no one ever took him seriously, so the canine hybrid had simply lost interest in romance entirely at some point.

So, considering you very much don't just see him as a quick fuck while simultaneously being very open about what he can and can't do with you, it makes it all the more unsurprising that the dog hybrid has been growing feelings for you. And if anything, Yoongi has been growing increasingly frustrated with the both of you- because you're both just so insanely oblivious.

Jungkook finds tons of excuses as to why your behavior towards him could just be friendly in nature, and not intimate or romantic- and so do you, constantly.

Cuddling? You're just very touchy, you cuddled with Jimin all the time, so now that he's more occupied with Yoongi it's only logical you'd go and find someone else to provide comfort for you.

Jungkook gifting you stuff that's originally his own? He's just happy to have a new friend, and probably believes that he can keep your interest in him with casual gifts. Or maybe he just wants someplace to dump his old stuff.

purring and bumping into him? You just like attention, and this is the most typical cat-way of gaining attention he could think of.

It's stupid, the way you both clearly are interested in each other- and yet find millions of excuses as to why the other isn't.

"Hey, princess-" Jimin hums, moving a large green dinosaur plush to the side to reveal your face. "-come on, let's get up now, hm?" He asks, and you look at him with a slightly hazy look for a moment, before you clear up. Your cheeks are flushed as you stretch, before you cringe at yourself- and Jimin can only assume why. "You wanna go clean up while I make breakfast?" He chuckles, and you nod, groggily untangling yourself from the blankets to go inside the bathroom, while Jimin moves to change the sheets.

He's gonna have to check in with the local heat-hotel for a room for you- the slightly darkened patch on your sheets and the clear signs in your behavior giving him the last reminder that you're probably close to your heat.

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When you don't visit yet again, Jungkook becomes a little restless as he watches the window, Jimin leaving the house to go to work. "Do you think she's sick?" Jungkook wonders towards Yoongi, who simply shrugs with his coffee.

"Don't think so. Jimin said she's close to her heat so that's probably why she's staying at home." He casually mentions, making Jungkook freeze for a good moment, before he looks over again.

The dog hybrid hasn't actually ever thought about that.

He has been smelling something unique coming from your garden yesterday when you were taking a nap out in the grass on a blanket- but he didn't actually connect the dots that that enticing smell had been you. And if you're just close to your heat and not actually in it yet, and you're already smelling so nice, how much would it change when you were actually fully in it?

Suddenly, his brain starts to create rather.. scandalous scenarios.

You probably wear underwear that's just as cute as all your dresses and skirts and blouses- little bows decorating the pastel colored fabric covering your most intimate parts. With the amount of time and care you put into your skincare all the time, you must feel like absolute heaven- and he wonders what your reaction would be if he was to explore his theory with kisses on your skin. You get so awfully cute when you're shy- he loves the way you blush sometimes, or hide away in embarrassment- would that be what you'd do if he was to approach you with intentions of lust?

He's sure he wouldn't be able to control himself if you were to lay in his bed, behind raised up and soft tail curled over, presenting your body to him, quietly begging for him to breed you. He'd make sure you wouldn't have to suffer at all during your entire heat- and now he has to think about the fact that by now, your bed must be absolutely littered with the things he gave you.

Good. His scent is probably all around you now. Have you started to give into your instincts already? Now he has to think about you amongst his sheets, your hands between your soft thighs-

"i-Im gonna go shower real quick!" Jungkook suddenly bursts out, fleeing the scene and leaving a laughing Yoongi behind.

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Throughout the day, Jungkook tries to distract himself, even when Jimin visits later after work, sitting in the living room with Yoongi. He's making himself a snack when he overhears the conversation going on- ears instantly tilting towards the two at the sound of your name spoken.

"They said it's full, and the other one is hours away." Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"What about surpressants? I mean, it's pretty much an emergency now." He suggests, unsure. Jungkook doesn't go into heat after all- his rut has only been set off a handful of times in the past, and it only took the hybrid a day or two to snap back out of it. Yoongi has never had to deal with hybrid heats before- so he's unsure what to really say now. Jungkook cringes as the mention of surpressants, though.

"I'd honestly rather avoid that. She's allergic to most blockers, and those liquid sirups for kittens makes her nauseous and miserable. Ah, this is horrible!" Jimin complains, putting down his phone.

"And a heat partner?" Yoongi asks, making Jungkook swallow down a growl of his own- something his owner notices briefly, though he brushes it off as him maybe having spotted something outside that probably set him off a little. "That way she'd be through with it quicker, right?" He wonders, and Jimin shakes his head.

"She.. never had a heat partner before." He reveals. "And she doesn't like the idea of one either. She's a bit scared of sex, mostly because she's never experienced it before." He shrugs, crossing his arms.

"I mean, they're tested and everything though. She'd be safe, and those people know what they're doing-" He starts, and by now, Jungkook can't hold himself back anymore.

"If-!" He buts in, sitting down on the couch, trying to seem nonchalant but failing miserably. "If, you know, she doesn't want to, you shouldn't push her. Hybrids in heat can often make decisions they'll regret later." He offers, and Yoongi looks at him with suspicion, before he smirks, sharing a glance with Jimin. "What?" The dog hybrid asks, when Jimin seems to catch on.

"You think-?" He starts, and Yoongi shrugs.

"She's pretty comfy with him. Likes him." He says. "If you talk to her about it now she'll be clear enough in the head to make a decision too. And Jungkookie can surely be gentle, I imagine." He teases the now red-faced and wide eyed hybrid, who looks like he's being held at gunpoint.

"Would you do that, Jungkook?" Jimin wonders, looking rather.. serious. "Help her, I mean? I'd leave the house in your care for the time being. She usually takes a week at max- so you'd have to take time off." He says, and Jungkook swallows hard.

"I mean.. it's up to her." He shakes his head. "I won't decide anything without asking her first." He denies, and at that, Jimin suddenly smiles softly.

"Then I think Yoongi is right." He nods. "You could be the perfect solution."

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"I'm not having sex." You deny, crawling up into a corner on your bed, away from Jungkook who sits on the edge of it. "Nuh-uh." You shake your head, crossing your arms.

"We don't have to." Jungkook agrees, staying where he is and respecting your need for distance. "But without help, you'll be miserable." He reminds you, and you huff to yourself.

"I'll be fine." You argue. "I wanna stay at a hotel."

"The hotels are full." Jungkook sighs. "Jiminie has been trying to squeeze you in for days now, they don't have any space anymore." He softly says, trying to push through your clear anxiety. "Do you want a female heat partner then?" He wonders, and you shake your head.

"I don't want anyone!" You snap at him, ears pinned back, and Jungkook nods- until he spots your eyes tearing up.

"Hey, I'm sorry I pushed it-" He starts, but you shake your head again, pulling your legs closer to yourself.

"I- ugh, this is so stupid!" You yell, attempting to throw a babyblue dog plus, before you rather hold it close, as if feeling guilty for trying to cause it harm. "I wanna.. I don't wanna have sex." You growl at no one, pushing your face into the dog's soft fur. "I don't wanna be alone.!" You whine, and Jungkook can't help but whimper under his breath as well, your distress making him equally nervous. He needs to make you feel better.

"Do you just want company?" He asks. "I can just be here, I won't touch you-"

"But I want that!" You finally burst out. "I want that- but I don't want that!" You complain, and suddenly, something clicks.

"We don't have to have that kind of sex." He reassures you. "I can do other stuff to help you. I don't have to, you know, be inside you." He says, and at that, you look at him.

"That's bullshit." You huff. "You'd get nothing out of it then." You say.

"I'd be close to you." He shrugs. "And I'd get to help you. Sounds good to me."

"What if your rut starts? Then you'll just.. do it, because I won't be complaining about it with my sex-hungry brain, and-" You hiccup, swallowing thickly. "-and then I'd hate you, and I don't wanna hate you-"

"Hey, kitty, princess, no." He shakes his head. "I'm not like that. If you say you draw the line at penetrative sex, I'll respect that." He tells you, and you take a moment to calm down, breath slowing down to a more reasonable pace.

"why?" You wonder quietly, watching him intently now.

"Because I don't want you to be miserable." He offers. "I want to help you, because.. I care about you."

"I'm constantly mean to you." You huff.

"You're not, actually. You're a bit.. rough around the edges, yeah, but you're a nice person." He smiles encouragingly. "You're.. I- uhm.." He looks down at his hands for a moment. "Uhm, this might be a really bad moment, forget-"

"No!" You suddenly say, dashing forward, looking at him with wide open eyes, desperation clear in your face. "S-.. say it.?" You almost whisper, and as he looks at you, feels your warm hand on his, he realizes it fully himself as well.

"I like you." He says, quietly. "And I.. want you. I'm not sure- I.. don't really know, this is a first for me, I've never really.. felt like that about someone before. And I'm not making that up." He chuckles nervously. At that, you sit cross legged now, closer to him, entire posture having changed now.

"Me neither-" You tell him with wonder, before you shake your head, correcting yourself. "Like- the part about feelings and stuff, not the part about making stuff up-" You rant, and he laughs, cheeks a bit red.

"So we'll just.. see where it goes?" He asks, and you nod after a moment.

"Guess so." You smile shyly.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"You'll get used to it." Yoongi reassures Jimin, who's been noticeably down these past few days, watching the dog hybrid constantly roam around you, basically having entirely taken over the place Jimin once filled in your life. "When Jungkook started working, I felt like that too." He tells his now boyfriend, who looks at him a little unconvinced.

"I feel like she hates me now." He sighs, watching how Jungkook pulls on your leg to get you out of the way, you having napped right in the middle of the hallway, blocking the way out the bathroom. You're laughing, clearly being a menace for no other reason than to get onto the dog hybrid's nerves- but it's not really working, since he instead just plays around with you. "She doesn't need me at all."

"And that's a good thing." Yoongi shrugs. "She deserves to be independent. And emotionally, she will always need you. You'll just have to.. share that attention now." He offers as an explanation, and Jimin sits back in his chair, sighing.

"…but I don't want to." He mumbles to himself, making Yoongi laugh as he takes a sip from his coffee.

"You sound just like her." The oldest teases, watching how Jungkook is now leaned over you, your behind pushing suspiciously into him. "Hey, not in the hallway you horny idiots!" He barks out, causing both Jungkook and you to snap out of the moment, getting up in embarrassment, before you push the dog and run outside into the backyard, initiating a game of tag to get rid of the awkwardness.

"I'm just.. so used to being her number one. And now I'm not." Jimin sighs, turning his head a bit to look outside where it's become suspiciously quiet.

"Well, better get over it you big baby." Yoongi teases, getting up and running a hand over his head as he passes by. "You can be my number one now." He passes by-

before his voice is heard again outside, yelling at both of you to get back inside where he can see you, Jungkook and you laughing as you run away from the playfully frustrated human.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You know exactly what you're doing- and so does he.

It's like you're both in a war, trying to see who's gonna break first- him or you. You've started to run around in the shortest shorts and cropped tops, tail always held high to make sure he always get's a good whiff of your scent whenever you pass him- eyes constantly searching for his reaction, proving to him that you're doing this on purpose. You've also begun to scent his clothes, steal his stuff, and enter any room he's in just to knock something over or gain his attention, before you dash away again, zoomies a constant occurrence.

But he's not just letting himself be beat up like this.

From casually walking shirtless, flaunting his physique and tattoos in the process, to running his fingers up and down your back, right on your spine, stopping at the base of your tail whenever he reaches it. He knows you're close by now, but you're still not letting yourself go just yet, seemingly testing if he's just as good at controlling his urges as he said he'd be. And he's very much eager to prove himself to you.

Jimin and Yoongi are staying at his house, while the younger human has gifted Jungkook the keys to the house you're normally occupying with Jimin, offering him some privacy during your heat- but also probably to have some alone time with his own partner now as well.

Nevertheless, Jungkook wonders what the next few days will bring. What will you need to feel good? What does he have to provide in order to make you comfortable? He's never been so anxious about sex or anything about it before, apart from maybe his first time when he was a teenager still. But with you, it's somehow different again- he wants to make sure you know that he's not only interested in you in terms of lust-

but maybe love, too.

He's currently prepping the last few things- fridge stuffed with your favorite snacks he'd ordered, when he notices a shift in the air. You've not really gotten up this morning, but he'd just guessed that you might just wanted to sleep longer. Jungkook had slept on the couch downstairs in the living room, so he's not really checked up on you yet- but maybe he should.

The moment he opens your bedroom door, he's practically attacked by your scent- like a solid concrete wall it pushes him back a little, as he swallows down any instincts for now, instead searching for you amongst what can only be described as chaos.

All the blankets are thrown all over the place. Plush animals are on the floor and the bed, the sheets are crumpled up and pushed around- but most of all, you're nowhere in sight. Even as he calls your name you won't show yourself- and it sets him off a little, as he enters the room and uses his hybrid senses to somehow track you down.

It leads him into the connected bathroom, where he finds you nesting in the empty tub- skin flushed, a bit of sweat on your forehead as you whine, complaining about the light bleeding into the otherwise dark room. You'd put up a towel over the window to keep out the sunlight.

He feels his fingers itching to offer you some sort of comfort, but he's also a bit hesitant. He needs a moment to collect himself, make a mental plan about how to help you, because you're obviously distressed and in full heat now. What he doesn't understand is why you wouldn't seek him out at all- even now, with him in the room, and you having obviously recognized him, you don't ask for anything at all. If anything, you seem sick.

Something's not right.

"Do you wanna maybe sleep somewhere else?" He carefully asks, but you shake your head, tail between your legs slightly sticky with the slick between your thighs- but the smell of distress and the sight of you in clear discomfort makes none of it affect him in a sexual way. "No?" He repeats, and you continue to shake your head once more, rather nuzzling into what he now recognizes is his sweater he'd taken off yesterday.

"No.." You deny, squeezing your eyes closed. "I'm too hot anywhere else.." You slur a little, curling up more as if to seek comfort. Jungkook feels his own instincts flaring up, protectiveness filling his brain as his brain works with every little cell to create a solution for you. Jimin didn't mention any of this at all. Jungkook doesn't know if this is normal or not for you- he only knows that he's never seen behavior like that.

So he walks out the bathroom, quietly, closes the door and makes his way to grab his phone, calling your owner. "Jungkook?" Jimin answers quickly, reassuring the dog hybrid at least for the moment. "Everything alright? Do you need something?"

"She's nesting in the bathroom." He rushes out instead of properly answering or greeting the human at all. "And she seems to have a fever- is this normal for her?" Jungkook worries. "She seems distressed- she smells so upset, what do I do?" He asks, and Jimin sighs on the other line, before he answers.

"We've been to doctors before already. It sometimes happens-" Jimin explains, his tone sounding rather defeated. "-no one really knows why. I'll come over and take over-" He starts, but Jungkook immediately cuts him off.

"No no no, tell me what usually helps? I wanna take care of her, please." He asks, and Jimin looks at Yoongi for a second, unsure- before he makes the decision. It feels like he's officially giving you away and out of his care- but maybe Yoongi is right.

Maybe it's time to not be selfish, and change.

"Okay." He says, before he starts to give the dog hybrid instructions on what to do.

[morallyinept]

Su Favorita - A Javier Peña One Shot

Summary: You're the only hooker in Bogotá that Javier Peña seeks after a clusterfuck of a day at work trying - and failing - to capture a lead that will steer him to the successful arrest of Escobar. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 4.8k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.” 

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Triggers/Warnings: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/rough/swearing/mild dirty talk/mention of a gun/Javi gets a little rough and pulls you about - you want it.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.  

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Javi's infamous pink shirt inspired this filth and I'm not sorry.

Enjoy! 🖤

MASTERLIST | JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST

His breath is a raw nettle in the back of his oesophagus. Rich tricolours that flap in the breeze are muted into a blur as he spins on his heels, blood thudding in his ears.

He's scanning the panicked faces that orb him as he lowers his Beretta to the ground, aware of the frantic calamity he’s now caused.

Fuck!

He fucking lost him; dropped the ball when he stumbled, and the maldito bastardo got away.

Javier scans the mass of wary bodies surrounding him, two-stepping about with hysterical caution as he loses his composure. Spanish expletives churn from his snarled teeth, offending those closest in ear shot.

Hijo de puta! (Motherfucker!)

The air was heavy with tension, and the sweltering heat seemed to conspire against him, slowing his pursuit. But Peña had pressed on, ignoring the discomfort in his twisted ankle from the fall, as he navigated through the disrupted masses; his eyes never leaving his target.

The locals, aware of the DEA’s reputation, festering in their provinces like cockroaches, hastily moved out of the way; fear flickering in their eyes as he gave chase to the assailant with his firearm brandished like it was his cock.

But it was fruitless as the pain was too much; he'd slowed his pace and he lost the scumbag out of his clutches.

And now he's here, floundering in the public square. 

Fuck! FUCK!

The pink shirt is soaked through with sweat; a large, cerise patch on his back sticking to him like a disgusting second skin he can’t peel off. The sun is merciless and running across half of Bogotá under it probably isn’t wise. He’s saturated everywhere, serving only to vexate him further.

The pungent smell of exhaust mixed with the spicy aroma of street food, creating an atmosphere of chaotic intensity, drowns him in the cesspool of sweat that is gluey.

He wipes at his face, tasting salt on his lips and feeling it bead in his eyelashes and moustache alike. 

His colleague approaches, mirroring the look of yet another sorry defeat back at him. Javier pats his shoulder anyway; the kid did well. Even if they’re pushed ten steps back again. 

A large palm placed on his gut where a stitch takes root, he catches his breath. His lower back aching solidly in places from the stumble down the concrete step he took while he bounded like a rottweiler unleashed after the only solid lead they’d gotten in a while.

He knows he’s getting too old for this cat and mouse shit out on the field; not as fit as he used to be to give lengthy chases after slimy muchachos (boys) half his age, but the son of a bitch is as stubborn as Escobar himself.

Despite the aches, the purple bruising petals that’ll unfurl on his tan skin later, he’ll carry on. He has to; an unspoken oath that he won’t rest until Pablo is rotting behind bars.  

Javier almost had him, almost.

He squeezes the chrome, pearl polished gun in his fist, trying to crush it, before tucking it away against his back in his denim waistband and out of sight to calm the vox-populi that have gathered to witness yet another mid-afternoon commotion on their turf between the Narcos and the DEA.

A war raging on that seems as unrelenting as the thick summer climate swamping over the country. 

His shirt - the half not crammed into the front of his tightly fitting jeans - flaps around sending a welcome breeze up onto his torso, even if it is warm. He scans the roads once more in all directions as his team gather; looking for faces that are taunting him, but they’re long gone. And Javier’s done.

Another fuck leaves his lips.

The drive back gives him a chance to reflect on where it all went downhill. His eyes are shielded by yellow aviators as he squints through glare of the harsh Colombian sun from the bonnet bouncing back into his face as he rides shotgun in the armoured cruiser with his tail between his legs.

His team spar verbally around him about tactics, dissect missed opportunities and Javier doesn’t want to hear anymore bickering about who missed their shot.

They all fucking did. 

The pressure is wrought hard on his shoulders; the flimsy explanations he’ll have to peddle, and the extra chances he'll have to persuade his seniors to give him, even though he knows they are sparse as they are costly these days. The hierarchy at the DEA are going to be pissed at him.

It’s times like these when he misses having Murphy around for some allyship. 

Sinking tequila’s later at the bar doesn’t help his mood much either. The buzz fails to cut into his nagging headache as he rubs his temples listlessly. He’s slumped forward on the bar top, his third cigarette on the go rolling between his fingers, whilst he mulls over his next move. 

The humidity is thick even at this late hour, and Javier’s too wired to process any more coherent thoughts or contemplate the futility of sleep.

So he goes to the only place he knows he can to blow off some much needed steam. 

He tosses a few crumpled bills, moist with sweat, on the bar top and slinks out the door into the opaque heat of the Colombian night. 

You’re in your silk nightie when he knocks on your door at an ungodly hour. The black one, with the slit and the lace band that curves around your tits as if it’s tattooed to your ample curves perfectly.

His mouth waters instantly when he sees you.

Javier’s sculpted arm rests up on the frame casually; he looks shattered, defeated and yet coy all at the same time in that way that only he can.

Tortured brown eyes lance at you that make you melt into a puddle at his feet instantly. You can smell the liquor on his breath even at arm's length. 

“Did I wake you, hermosa?” He asks with a softness to his usually clipped tone.

His eyes are forlorn around the edges where lines are taking up root in the thin skin ageing him quicker there. You liquefy when you see him standing there brazenly.

You shake your head, feeling the heated tension he always brings with him on your body already. Javier Peña could always wake you in the middle of the night and you would never mind at all. 

It hasn't been long since the last time; Javier’s musk is only just starting to fade from your sheets and body alike. You can still smell him in your hair, taste him in your sweat.

And now he’s back to pollute more of you with him. 

You step forward, reaching your hands out; your svelte fingers running around his damp, pink collar flapping open and revealing golden collarbone ridges that you long to conquer and lick.

You pull him inside on unsteady feet as he throws the door shut behind him, leaving the shitty day postulating outside. 

He rids his body of obtrusive objects; his crumpled box of cigarettes, his gun; the aviators hanging from his shirt opening, and dumps them clumsily on the table you both pass as you pelt his salty neck with hungry smooches.

You plant needy whines that bloom pink carnations out of his pores into your face and you inhale their fragrant perfume. You mewl longingly as you suck onto his skin, leaving a red mark here or there with your teeth and Javier's hiss tells you he needs more of that carnality. More of you.

But he needs to be in control.

So he takes it. 

Your back hits the wall winding you; arms are stretched above your head as he pins you and feels down your supple body. His free hand groping with intent over your breasts, sampling the fullness of them and pinching around your hips and thighs as he grunts.

He leans in and slips his acrid tongue into your mouth; his grip becomes tighter on you, desperate. 

His eyes are hungry, ravenous and almost black. His fingers skim the hem of your nightie and slip underneath, feeling out your folds that are absolutely dripping for him.

His thick fingers slip across your clit, swollen and bruising as your knees buckle when he slides back and forth over it. You gasp and shudder, whining in your intensity for him as the tingles ramp up your desire. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re soaked for me.” Javier groans into your neck approvingly. "You know what that does to me."

He needs this. Needs this wet pussy so fucking badly.

He slips a finger up inside you, marvelling as you flutter and squeeze around him, before he adds another. The sounds of your wetness as he slides in and out are explicitly pornographic, filling his ears with heady, filthy bubbles.

You gasp again, your hands dropping to his shoulders. You hitch up your leg around his waist, pulling him in so he can delve deeper into that wet velvet between your legs.

He smirks under his 'tache as he curls his fingers, massaging against that spongy spot deep in you that makes your thighs shake and your eyes roll back into your skull like clacking marbles. 

As much as he enjoys pulling you apart - and often does for hours - he wants this, fucking needs you.

Now!

Growling, Javier lifts you up carrying you to the bedroom, throwing you down on the bed and making you squeal in delight. You look up at him through your now unkempt hair and your whole body soars at his strength, his abrupt roughness with you - his primal desperation.  

Your slick, smeared across your inner thighs, shines up at him as you lart your legs, and he emits a low growl in approval.

"Show me, baby." He encourages as you touch yourself.

The moment you opened the door and you caught the familiar, heady scents of him; worn leather and cigarettes, the flash of those cocoa eyes deep rooting inside of you, your slit began to stick together between your legs and you needed him to tear it open again.

Your cunt remembers the shape of him, and you clench in anticipation of having him inside you once more. Re-bruising those fleshy, battered walls that have barely stopped aching.

You groan as your fingers circle your clit and your thighs shake.

Javier loves the way you’re always humming before he’s even touched you. The way you lust for him with dilated eyes like you're high on the white stuff that the brazen Narcos smuggle out the country, and swollen lips that you lick and nibble on.

He loves the flush that births over your cheeks and neck. Watching you cupping your own breasts over the silk as you watch him watch you for a moment.

He savours it, just for a few seconds, before he ruins you. Appreciating the sight of the beautiful woman who craves his touch; who howls at the moon for his dick. 

He kneels up over you after unbuttoning his shirt, and sinks his tongue into your waiting hot mouth, jaw bones and teeth clashing in their sloppiness. Javier’s kiss is biting, his warmth searing; his own lust unbridled. 

He manhandles you, tearing at the silk and lace that barely covers your tits and ass. His lips latch onto a freed nipple, teeth scraping against in his furore. You hiss as he tugs at the teet with a voracious growl around his gums. 

You whine at the dull pinch, and brown doe-eyes glance up at you lessening the pressure as it slips out of his wet mouth. 

“Can you take it hard tonight, cariño? For me?” Javier husks, you feel his grip around your waist bruise into your skin with need.

A silent, but yielding plea circles his mocha irises. An unspoken hypnotism that you’ve recognised only a handful of times in him, but know it well enough to trust him with it.

He’ll make it hurt mami, but in a way that’ll leave you craving more. The yellowing bruises on your thighs where he grips, the teeth marks in your skin where he feasts; that heavy ache in your cervix for days as he owns you.

The deep chocolate of his eyes are dissipating into jet black. His breaths become quick, painting frantic annihilation with his touch.

You run your fingers through his oil slick hair, a gentle tug and nod with a hot smile at your lover giving him free rein. "Si, Javi. Si. Give it all to me." You confirm.

"Buena niña,” (Good girl) he rasps at you through teeth that grit. You understand what Javier needs so well, and he needs to consume you right now until there is nothing left of him, or you. 

So you let him. 

The chink of his belt buckle ricochets through you, crackling as you remove the tattered threads of your nightie, wanting his burning skin crushed and melting against yours until you become one gloopy mess together staining the sheets with your wax. 

He yanks you forward by the ankles, sliding you down the bed towards the foot of it where he stands naked; his cock thick and heavy, pointing out at you with a flush scarlet head that oozes delicious pearls from its tip. 

He parts your thighs and teases your folds with his fingers, stroking up and down your slit.

“Fucking gorgeous, querida…” Two of Javier’s fingers fill you up again, stretching you open as he widens them inside your sopping hole. 

“Mmm,” you breathe, head tossed back as he curls them inside you, beckoning your soul to depart your vessel so it doesn’t have to witness this desperate violation of it. 

Javier slides them out, sucks them clean of your slick and taps your hip to get you to turn.

“Bend over,” he instructs as you spread yourself on all fours on the end of the bed. Ass up and legs wide, just how he likes you. 

He spits onto your pussy, running his fingers through your drippings and mixing it with his saliva. Your body soars at the notion - it’s utterly lewd and filthy.

“So fucking wet for me, hermosa,” he grunts, marvelling at the spit shine. "Jesus..."

He leans forward, pulls open the globes of your ass cheeks tightly in his hands admiring the view of you splayed all for him.

Javier takes his solid, pulsing cock, lines it up and taps it against your cunt; dipping the tip of his head into your greased folds and coating himself with you. 

“Javi,” you mutter encouragingly, your body so desperate for him; your pussy contracting and squeezing to suck more of him into you as he teases you.

Teases himself; allows a beat or two to pass before the chaos descends.

Tres, dos, uno- (3,2,1-)

He plunges in, ramming his cock into your tight crevice and filling you as he shunts in and bottoms oit with force. You shriek out deliciously at the sudden thick intrusion. 

He stretches you wide, packs you out and you grip around him welcoming him into your wet flesh. 

His large hands are still on your ass cheeks, pulling you open so he can watch his cock slide up inside you to the hilt and your ass pucker at him, blowing sweet kisses.

Fuck, you take him so well.

Javier pulls back slowly; his dick so shiny and soaked in you, and rolls into you in a smooth thrust. He repeats it once, twice more before the need to start pummelling you takes over like a red mist that he can’t see through.

God, you feel so tight around him. You’re nuzzling into the covers as he fucks you deeply, losing yourself into a tumbling spiral of covetness for his cock. He’s so hard, so thick and rails you to within an inch of your life.

"Oh, fuck!" You whine as he picks up a brutal, punishing pace.

He fucks the breath out of you and all of your senses out of your mind into jumbled piles beside you in the sheets.

His large hands steady you; pulling on your hips, anchoring you back into meeting his every shunt into your squelchy tunnel that squeezes around him ruthlessly.

You spasm, detached from any control over your limbs and begin to see pink phosphenes glitter behind your eyelids. 

“Like that, baby,” you groan wantonly as Javier pulls you back against him, again and again and again.

And again.

He’s so deep you’ll be feeling it for a week. His fingers scrape through your hair, gathering it into his palm and knotting around his fingers as his cock slides further in and your head is yanked backward by your roots. 

“Mmm!” You cry out, feeling him bottom out continuously and fill you wholly.

You squirm and squeal, you judder and buck, but he keeps you grounded. Keeps you right there taking all of him brutally in a shape that would baffle any Yoga instructor as your torso is pulled upwards and backwards by your hair, as far as your spine will allow. 

It feels amazing, giddy. You feel a gentle nudging against the precipice of pain deep within your core. You feel hot, drenched. Weak.

You're tumbling, falling deeper into a black pit of oily pleasure that coats your skin. 

Javier takes your arm and folds it back across your lower spine pinning it there. He does the same with the other and your face topples into the mattress tasting cotton on your tongue as he burrows deeper, splits you open.

He’s everywhere, consuming and taking. His grunts are grazing inside your ears, his sweat is dripping onto your skin, sizzling it. His cock is punching out your insides with every snap of his hips. 

You screech as he speeds up; the constant cresting of his hip bones against you at a banging tempo as your screams start to pierce; you beg him for more.

"Más duro, Javi!” (Harder) You pant wildly. 

You want him to rip right through you and out of your chest walls with his cock. 

Your body is burning up; a fire licking at the insides of your belly acids ready to ignite them, heat surging across your skin.

You can feel it behind your eyes, in the tips of your toes, on the back of your tongue as the building of your orgasm courses through your nerve endings. 

Javier all but growls at you as his breath puffs out of his chest on each, thrusting syllable.

"You wanna come, hmm? Can feel you squeezing me, baby."

He taunts. He knows you're close to utter destruction; he can feel how tightly and regularly your pussy is squeezing around him now. He’s making you sing and he’s greedy for the hoarse treble clefs you pelt into the air around him. 

Your ass slaps back onto his thighs as he wrenches you back each time; your slick dripping down your own now, and pins and needles fizzing in your fingertips behind your back as they numb out with how he’s got you twisted.

He fucks harder. Intense. Gruelling. Unwavering thrusts fill your pussy to breaking point as he lets all of the day's failings - his failings - out of his system and forces them into you.

He gives you all he's got. And it's too much and still not enough. 

“Oh, fuck! Please, Javi!” You beg, your voice slack and thick. You can only take it; let him use your hole for his own gratification and release.

You feel a harsh sting on your ass as he slaps it - hard. 

You bawl out; a low pitched groan that warbles around the hot room, your hair sticking to your face. Your thighs shake and give way as you fall fully flat, and Javier’s hands press down onto your lower spine keeping you still as he fucks hard and deep and doesn’t stop.

The metal railings of the bed squeak relentlessly and hammer against the wall. 

“Taking my cock so well, bonita.” He pants from behind you in a voice that has been stripped away from the Javi you know.

He crushes you with his chest, his hand snaking up your throat gently as the heavy grunts inside your ear fill your head with dizzy helium that makes you float.

His thumb tip slips into your mouth as you suck on it - dribbling around it with clumsy teeth - his fingers crushing around your chin and jaw.

And you want him to snap you in half if that's what it takes. 

He’s feral in owning you, claiming you with his cock.

His favourite, eres su favorita. (You're his favourite.) You’ve not entertained other clients, stopping all services since Javier first got his dick wet inside of you. He came back for more and more. 

The length between visits is getting shorter, the time spent with his face between your legs getting longer. The money exchanged between you ceasing with mutual consent, because it’s more than just a cheap fuck now between you. DEA Agent Javier Peña craves you. Needs you when the crushing weight of the world starts to suffocate him.

Gets his sight back in colour when he takes root up in your pussy. 

He’s the only one you’ve ever let stay the night; the only body who sleeps in your bed wrapped around you like a baby capuchin clinging onto its mother.

His limbs glued to yours in the sweltering heat after he's covered you in his pearly fluids; marked his territory, a seminal signature upon your body parts and heart alike. 

Javier feels the tightness around him squeeze harder. Your pussy strangling him, milking him for all he’s got as your orgasm blasts into you like a solar flare. 

“That’s it, baby. Come on my cock,” Javier coos, his hips working harder as he fucks you through it. "Soak it, querida."

God, he fucking needs it. 

You’re weightless; your bones melt into molten lava and you blaze up from the inside out, disintegrating into ashen dust under him as you erupt. 

“Jaaaavi!” You wail, your body rattling; you’re muttering incoherently into the sheets as though possessed by a thrashing spirit. 

“Where?” He growls, holding on by a thread. “Where, querida?!” He hastens.

“Inside me, mi amor.” (My love) You instruct, out of breath, completely wrecked and spent.  

He chases it, holding out as long as he can before he spills himself inside of you with thick squirts, and heavy howls; coating your walls in that plentiful spend he loves watching drip out of you afterwards whilst he pushes it back in with his fingers. Stroking your clit gently as your thighs twitch from the overstimulation.

But he’ll keep doing it; building you up again until you can take him once more when he’s hard and ready to destroy you all over. 

He grunts loudly, chest puffing as he releases and slows his pace into a laboured shunt, your skin tight in his grip as he comes down.

Soft, satiated moans spilling from his lips and making patterns on your back as they settle in. 

His head clears, the tension untangled from his shoulder muscles, the ache in his back seems non-exisitent for a few moments, and his hands massage your ass cheeks affectionately as he slides out leaving a spill of him to follow. 

Javier takes everything from you that you have to give again before he's fully satiated; the deep night shifting into a pastel dawn, until you both collapse in the crumpled sheets of mutual sweat and come.

Tangled up in his caramel limbs and lost in a fever dream of his raw, savage sex.

Small snuffles of warm, stale breath coat your back.

Javier is dead to the world and snoring lightly from his nose; the exhaustion and over-exertion of the previous day - and night - finally kicking his pert ass into a smashed sleep.

In the late morning, the glow of the Colombian sun flirting behind the curtains coats his face in gold shadows that dance.

When you stir awake, he's already regarding you; those dark coffee eyes a lighter shade of hazel in the light.

He runs a lone, thick finger that carries the scent of you in the whorl of his fingerprint down your arm and onto your hip. It leaves goose pimples in its wake and destroys your peace. 

Your nipple wakes up on the breast that isn't crushed under your body weight and he strokes his thumb over it delicately, rousing you. You shudder and smile sleepily under the mess of your hair. 

“You good, cariño?” Javier’s voice is muted, heavy with sleep and some small hesitation is lingering there in the roots of his moustache.

He knows he was rough on you, maybe a little too rough at times. Knows he used your body for his own release, his cock a battering ram into your precious pussy. Even though you came - he’ll always make sure you do before he does - he was justifiably selfish in his needs in getting off this time.

But you don’t mind. You’ll take him however he comes to you when he needs you.

This morning he’s going to make it up to you as you nod at him, smiling like you’re drunk cupping his face, stroking your thumb across his cheekbone and feeling the graze of a shadow of sharp hairs surfacing. 

Javier kisses you deeply, licks into your mouth and rolls himself on top of you. He peppers kisses down your jaw affectionately, suckles gently on your chin through sleepy smiles, and nips your throat with contented sighs that inflate you.

He runs his jaw across yours affectionately, nips gently on your ear lobe and plants more, delicate kisses over the vicinity of your face.

The weight on his shoulders seems lighter now, almost gone. The prospect of a clearer head and an optimistic approach in his next move in capturing Escobar seems less daunting, more attainable somehow.

And he knows it's because of you.

“Javi, baby,” you moan as you feel his hardness pressing into your inner thigh meat. His wetness smears over it and glistens in the sunlight.

His touch is more delicate now, more precise and concentrated. 

More Javier.

“Querida,” Javier shushes as he plants a trail of kisses across your collarbone, mouthing around your nipples gently with a warm, wet tongue and soothing the sting of his previous bites.

He feeds you bliss, calm. He feeds you the tender pieces of him that no-one has ever tasted before.

A ragged cry unfurls at the back of your throat as he slips back inside you, this time taking his sweet time in filling you and making you feel every veined inch of him.

Gasping at how good he feels, your hands claw at his back; you bury your face in the crook of his neck inhaling his fresh musk of sweat, smoky cigarettes and the lingering spices of his aftershave in faint notes, as he drowns you with him and pulls you under. 

Javier’s hips rock back and forth, moving deeper with every deliberate glide. His pubic bone caresses your clit deliciously as he grinds in and out. You’re biting into the tan skin of his shoulder as your dreamy orgasm stirs from the slumbering pits of your core. 

“Come for me, baby,” he rouses in your ear in a thick whisper drenched in his own pleasure growing again, as feeling you squeeze and pulsate around his cock makes him weak.

He kisses gently all over the skin of your cheek; delicately peppering little smooches. Running his fuzzy lips against your skin.

You kiss him back, tasting his tongue and sucking it gently.

“Mierda,” (Shit) he grunts as he feels your fingers entwine with his and squeeze tightly.

He squeezes back. He always squeezes back.

“Javi, don’t stop…” You whimper with a mouth full of his skin, and he draws back to watch you come undone. Watch you lose your shit on the end of him once more and it's a sight that makes everything else pale into insignificance.

You shine brighter than the sun blinding him.

There’s a reason why he favoured you over all the whores he’s ever found solace in; this right here.

That resplendent look glazed over your watery eyes as you come completely undone around him; crying for him and begging him for more of his cock.

For more of him. 

Your cheeks are red matching the heat on your lips, your eyes punch drunk on lust and the glitter that only you can see fills the room once more and suffocates all of your orifices with its metallic dust.

You come again, hard. It's intense. Different to how it was last night.

The tightening bunch in your gut snapping back like a band, and flooding out of you; soaking his cock which he so desperately wants and needs. 

It’s enough to make Javier lose it again too. He pants and groans as he empties out inside of you, collapsing onto your chest and grunting as he catches his breath.

Your hands soothe his back and you stay like that for a while feeling his warmth leak out of you whilst he softens. 

You kiss into hairline as he kisses over the same patch of skin on your stomach, as he stays there for a while and contemplates never moving from that spot ever again.

You watch, a while later, as he tucks his gun into the back of his waistband and grabs his cigarettes from the table in the hall. His yellow aviators find their home on his face and he smiles at you.

And this is the part that always cuts through the pleasure you’ve been drowning in. 

Javier turns to kiss you, his hands squeezing your body; moulding it into his as he leaves a cast of you in his flesh, an indent where you'll always fit. 

The scent of his stale, sweat laden, pink shirt seeps into your nose and you taste salt on each other’s lips that'll stay on yours long after he leaves. You’ll lick it off, continuing to taste him; ingesting him fully.

Each parting kiss feels heavier, longer somehow, and you sense some reluctance in him this time - forever hopeful.

But you know it won’t be long again before he’s back. 

Afterall, you’re Javier Peña’s absolute favourite. 

I hope you enjoyed reading this Javier Peña story of mine. If you enjoyed it, please consider re-blogging so others can find it on their dash. Thank you. 🖤

MASTERLIST| JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST

[jungle-angel]

Early Risers (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Christmas morning under your roof is nothing short of special

It had been one hell of a Christmas, a blizzard having started on the way home from church the night before while you, Bob and the rest of the Dagger family had gathered at the ranch in Montana to celebrate. 

The kids had been quiet on the morning of Christmas Eve, playing round after round of beanbag toss in the large expanse of basement while the grown ups were left to take care of business. That was where the real craziness had ensued. 

It had all begun when Coyote, Rooster and Hangman had been sent on a liquor run, only to return with a truck bed containing half the store. Bob, your beloved and most patient of husbands, ran his hands over his face in exasperation despite the good intentions. 

Fanboy and his grandparents had shown up an hour later with Abuela Alma taking charge of the kitchen. You and her had the time of your lives as you cooked away, the house filling with a whole different array of smells that attracted the boys quite easily. Unfortunately, they were met with Alma’s swift hand and a dishtowel when Javy, Mickey and Rooster tried to sneak a taste of the tamales that had just come out of the oven. 

The kids had done the same thing, imitating their uncles and their grandfathers, though Alma was a bit softer with the children, shooing them away to the basement and warning them that if they didn’t wait they’d spoil their dinners. The both of you however, started to lose patience pretty quickly when Tank, Bob’s two year old Rottweiler sat close to the kitchen counters, pawing your thigh for a little taste of the food. 

Getting the kids ready for Christmas Mass was a nightmare in and of itself. Auggie, Nicky, Pete, Danny, Thomas, TJ, Sebastian, Roddy, Tiago and Gabe all complained about having to wear nice clothes, chasing each other through the house and whipping each other with their ties before their fathers all grabbed them to keep them from getting out of hand. The girls were a little easier, but keeping them from getting their clothes messed up? Phoenix and the guys all thought piloting through the canyon on the Uranium Plant mission was much easier than that. Finally, they decided to let the kids curl up in the living room to watch “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” if it would help keep them quiet. 

Christmas Mass went off without a hitch, everyone going early in the evening while the food warmed at home. It was so crowded that you, Bob and the rest of the squad all had to stand at the back, the kids resting on the floor for the time being while Father Gonzales officiated. Joe and Irene pulled their truck around after all was done, you and Bob loading up Auggie, Patrick, Deidre and Baby Rudy so that their grandparents could take them home. You and Bob on the other hand, rode home with Maverick, Penny, Amelia and the boys, all of you totally caught off guard by the blizzard that started before you had gotten up the driveway. 

Twelve hours and ten million reruns of “A Christmas Story” later, you, Bob and the rest of the family poked your heads into the living room to find all the kids asleep on top of the huge pile of unopened presents under the tree. No one could resist the thought of snapping pictures of the kids all asleep in their plaid Christmas jammies, some of them snoring away from having woken at three in the morning to see if Santa came. 

The kids awoke soon enough as everyone opened their gifts, overjoyed at the thought that was put into every one of them. The kids played with their new toys or read through their new books while you and the rest of the squad let breakfast cook in the oven or hauled out the remaining liquor to make mimosas. You and Bob couldn’t have imagined a more perfect day, a day where all of you were together, surrounded by your family and friends and the people who loved you most of all.

[magnorious]

Review: ‘We Find Out The Truth, Sort Of’, Percy Jackson Episode 7

TL;DR the flashbacks were the best part of this episode and because they exist, precious minutes serving actual plot were eaten by missed potential. Also someone kidnapped Hades and replaced him with a caricature imposter.

This show is quickly becoming not even enjoyable enough to make fun of, but with two episodes to go, might as well see it through to the end.

Episode 6 left off with some wild Hollywood-y changes to the source material, the biggest being that the summer solstice deadline has already passed and the gods are at war, because tension? Everyone knows the world isn’t going to end, everyone knew it wouldn’t end in the book either — the stakes came from whether or not Percy would be able to prove his innocence and recover his mom. We knew somehow that things would work out, the question was what the cost would be if he failed.

Giving Percy the 4th pearl and making him already fail by the powers that be was an interesting decision. It robs the tension from the rest of the plot if there’s no clock ticking down anymore. Hades, Ares, every single hurdle they face burns more time and forces Percy to risk flying on a plane to reach New York before the deadline... all for Zeus to not give a damn anyway.

But did this interesting choice make for a better or more entertaining story?

—

I’m shocked they kept Crusty’s Waterbeds given how much plot they have left to shove in this story. And, of course, Percy already knows exactly who he is. They finally got a character to look like they did in the book and (for Supernatural fans, it’s the same actor as Death) it’s pretty well done for the costume and makeup department. But all of that is moot once again when the script gives away all the answers.

Percy has no time for Crusty because the plot has no time for Crusty. They try to give him some thematic relevance but they’re sprinting to the finish line now, and they can’t even let Percy kill him, going out of their way to make Annabeth tell him to be happy he gets to keep his head.

Side note- the pearls look like tiny Ferrero Rocher chocolates.

Oh and DOA Studios doesn’t exist, because there’s no time for that but there is certainly time for flashbacks. If I had to pick between Crusty and Charon, I would have preferred Charon 100%, he’s actually a decent guy — but not this version of him. He does actually appear, looking more like a grim reaper than an underpaid middle manager bereft of his Italian suits.

The flashback itself is wonderful, I wish the rest of the show was so nicely written. The second flashback they don’t have time for is also great. I like seeing more of Sally and their struggles growing up, her tireless search for ways to protect her demigod son. This is the kind of filler that helps tell the story, unfortunately it’s at the expense of the existing story this episode, eating up minutes. The *third* flashback eating up minutes is also good, this just isn’t the time for any of these. They should have all been in the St. Louis episode. I hate how good these are, because it shows how good the writing could have been. Baby Percy still runs circles around the older kids’ line deliveries. The **fourth** flashback is well-acted but baffling, more on that later!

The Underworld is grey. Painfully grey. Another reason I wish this show had been animated was full creative freedom to go all out with the design and the colors and the scale. This is just boring- grey and hazy to hide how boring it is. The Underworld is an entire kingdom, it’s a realm, terrifyingly beautiful. There’s black poplar trees and all the different rivers and Elysium and the Isles of the Blessed and Persephone’s garden. The ghosts actually look like ghosts. The kids in this version don’t actually look intimidated by the magnificence of the place. There’s no time to be intimidated.

Cerberus is fine. Annabeth’s waterland ball is swapped in for Grover’s stress ball. But he remained a Rottweiler. What’s not fine is the plot handing Percy 4 pearls only to randomly rescind one by making Grover lose his to recreate the tension they murdered. Percy doesn’t hesitate to give his to Grover and there’s no time for them to have any kind of dramatic argument over who should actually stay behind.

Asphodel is a forest, not a field, i.e. the Fields of Asphodel. The concept is cool, actually. These souls stuck there for so long they’re growing roots into the very fabric of the Underworld. So kudos there, that’s genuinely creepy. The rest of Asphodel is a desert, still not a field, and bright as daylight for some reason when it should be permanent night down there unless you’re in Elysium.

Buuut then said roots tangle up Annabeth and make them leave her behind. Percy doesn’t even try to cut her free and she just takes a pearl to the surface, to be ejected from the plot for now. What regret did she have? Doesn’t matter, no time.

Percy is still too smart for his own good and the plot still hates any mystery whatsoever, so he finds the Master Bolt immediately after the brush with the Pit. The Pit also has no voice of Kronos to make it extra creepy, because there’s No Time For That. The entire point of the Chekov’s gun that was those shoes is tossed aside.

The Underworld continues to be painfully grey and beige. Hades isn’t grey, though, oh no. Hades isn’t Hades either. I kept waiting for the reveal that he’s just one of Hades’ Furies in disguise or even a lesser spirit he orders around to screw with people. I waited, and kept waiting. The dude who played Hades in the movie was more accurate.

They still do argue. Percy still accuses Hades of meddling. They argue in front of a random living room instead of a godly Underworld throne. Maybe that wasn’t in the budget. I’m still waiting for Hades to drop this ridiculous act and toss this puppet aside. He starts offering sanctuary when book Hades desperately wanted absolutely nothing to do with whatever was brewing between Zeus and Poseidon, claiming now he needs another god’s weapon to defend himself and I don’t think signature weapons are so easily transferable. Percy and Grover get the heck out of dodge shortly after.

Then Poseidon shows up in the fourth flashback and, well, Percy does have his hair (but not his random British accent). No Hawaiian shirt and khakis in sight. This exists to make Poseidon and Sally’s love for their son more tangible, but in the first book he’s a dick. He’s not seen on the page until Percy meets him on Olympus and the god is a huge disappointment to him. Poseidon begins narrating like this is the season finale, Ares shows up, and cut to black.

The entire book we’re left in limbo on where Poseidon stands, if he’s going to be as spiteful and selfish as Zeus or Dionysus. That reveal on Olympus meant something. But at this point I’m tired of arguing why scenes matter when the show couldn’t care less.

At this point making book comparisons doesn’t matter anymore because this just isn’t Percy Jackson anymore. The characters have their names, sure, but that’s about all the due diligence that’s paid to the source material. I watched this with someone who hadn’t seen a single episode before nor read the books and even they commented that it’s horribly rushed. Even without Percy Jackson’s name on the marketing, they’ve been questing to the Underworld for the entire season and *this* is what we get for it?

Here’s to hoping the entire budget for fight scenes went to the finale so Percy can kick Ares’ ass.