Z🌷

he’d started with smaller weapons first. easier ones. a knife tucked carefully into your palm while he stood behind you correcting your grip with growing irritation. unfortunately, you spent the most part of the session giggling. mostly because you know titus gets sassy when he’s frustrated and you find it adorable.

the training knife wobbles dangerously in your grip while titus adjusts your frame and stance for what feels like the fiftieth time in the last ten minutes.

“stop holdin’ it like you’re buttering toast.”

“i don’t butter my own toast.”

“yes darling, we know.”

you gasp dramatically, spinning around to smack his chest with the back of your hand. “that was classist.”

“whatever you say, sweetheart,” titus mutters, catching your wrist before you can hit him again.

effortlessly, his fingers wrap fully around your wrist and you immediately get distracted, staring at the size difference. of course titus notices. he notices everything about you.

the corner of his mouth twitches slightly as your eyes drift over the veins in his hands, the scars across his knuckles, the way his body practically swallows yours whole whenever he stands this close.

god. you think titus danforth might genuinely be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen, which is probably concerning considering you’ve also watched him come back from hunts with blood splattered across his face wearing that exact same sick smile on his face.

most normal people might see him as terrifying…or just plain satanic. you, unfortunately, had seen that smile once and decided it was undeniably attractive. deeply unfortunate for everyone involved since he's become your entire personality since.

“you’re distracted again,” he mutters.

“you’re standing too close.” you murmur, eyes flicking back up towards his own. 

“i hope you know you’d die in under thirty seconds.”

“not if i scream at the top of my lungs for my strong and scary titus,” you declare, voice half mocking, half sincere.

something shifts in his expression at your comment. visibly pleased in that dark, obsessive way of his. like the thought of you depending on him scratches something deeply unhealthy inside his brain. though, his mind isn't quite healthy to begin with. 

titus likes protecting you a little too much. everybody knows it. the way he shadows you through any gathering like a feral guard dog. the way he positions himself between you and strangers automatically. the way people stop approaching you entirely once titus walks into the room.

not because he says anything. honestly, titus barely speaks to most people at all. but everybody knows he doesn’t need much of a reason to snap and unfortunately for them, he seems to consider you his reason for everything now. which sounds romantic until you remember titus has killed for far less.

“okay,” you announce suddenly, grabbing a dagger from the grass. 

“hypothetically, if a creepy man came up behind me—”

“most men are creepy.” titus says it so matter-of-factly you almost laugh. mostly because he’s arguably the creepiest man you know.

“wow. thank you for sharing, titus.” 

“you’re welcome.”

you roll your eyes before lunging your frame dramatically through the air. “wouldn’t i just stab him like this—”

titus reacts instantly to your movement. his body tapping into some instinct, like the violence lives inside of him deeper than he can control. one second you’re attacking invisible enemies. the next, he’s caught your arm, twisted behind you, and dropped you flat onto the grass. not hard. just fast enough to make you shriek.

“titus!”

“that,” he says calmly from above you, “would get you killed.”

you glare up at him between startled laughter, your hair spread across the grass while titus kneels over your hips like some massive predatory animal.

he looks terrifying like this, but also so beautiful.

the sun catches the sharp lines of his face while he pins you beneath him with frightening ease, completely unbothered by the fact he could overpower you in seconds.

titus feels himself twitch against his pants. you look gorgeous like this. sprawled out like prey yet looking at him like you aren’t afraid at all. like you belong there, ready to be devoured by him. his breakfast, his lunch, his dinner and, good god his dessert. 

honestly, this stopped feeling educational an hour ago.

“you tackled me!”

“i’m just trying to be realistic.”

“you threw me to the ground!”

“you’re being dramatic”

you stare at him for a second before dissolving into a giggle fit again. titus exhales sharply through his nose, clearly trying not to smile. trying and failing just a little.

maybe it’s the heat or the boredom or the fact titus is hovering over you looking all dangerous and irritated, but suddenly you’re over this lesson entirely. so you fist the front of his shirt and yank him down into a kiss.

he makes a low groan before immediately kissing you back harder. possessive just like he approaches everything else. one hand slides into your hair while the other stays locked around both your wrists, bringing them up and above your head.

“mm,” you mumble lazily against his mouth. “this is way more fun.”

“no shit.”

you grin before adding thoughtfully. “you know maybe we should practice on somebody real next time.”

titus stills slightly, interested in your proposal. “yeah?”

you hum. “my family’s accountant, maybe? he gave me a lecture for using daddy’s card during my shopping spree yesterday.”

a pause hits you before titus laughs. actually, genuinely laughs. low and rough and a little bit unhinged but oh do you love the sound.

His brows barely furrow for you to elaborate.

"I'm waiting on Robby to go home."

"Home?"

"Yeah, we're living together. now"

"Oh?"

You shrug him off. "Not like that. He's just letting me use his spare bedroom."

That catches Robby's attention.

"Just" letting you use his spare bedroom. Insinuating to Park the Shark, head of orthopedics who is clearly flirting with you every time his path crosses yours, that it's "not like that"?

That simply will not do.

Robby's about to go over, head buzzing with anger and jealousy, when Jack slaps his hand against Robby's chest.

"Wait," Jack smirks, amused. "There's no need to tell him when we can show him, brother."

That's how Robby finds himself playing poker with Park and Jack on a random Thursday night.

"No way you did that," Jack chuckles. "Poor Huckleberry, kid must've shit himself."

The three men erupt into a boisterous fit of laughter that cuts through the darkened apartment.

Jack and Robby exchange a sly glance at the noise, their hearts racing as they only get louder and louder.

It's a few minutes later when they finally hear it, the unmistakable creak of Robby's master bedroom opening and the soft padding of your steps shuffling out to the living room.

"Robby," you whine. "'s so loud."

You rub your eyes tiredly, brain not catching up to what you've just walked into, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt and white cotton panties.

Park chokes on his beer beside them and the two smirk devilishly.

"Sorry honey, did we wake you?" Jack asks you, a little condescending. You nod, shuffling towards his warm, honeyed voice, eyes still not open fully. "You're supposed to be up anyways, get your body used to being back on nights."

"I know, 'm just tired—"

His hand reaches out for yours, grabbing at the shift and pulling you into his lap to settle comfortably, the fabric riding up over your thighs.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Your brows scrunch against Jack's neck at the voice you definitely recognize but still can't put two together given where you are.

"We have a guest tonight," Robby explains. "Don't be rude, say hello."

Your gaze finally sharpens as you practically jump out of Jack's embrace, meeting Park's dumbfounded one.

Unfortunately for you, the vet is quicker, arms wrapping around you tightly.

"It's okay," Jack hums against your ear. "Park's a friend, right? Just like Robby and I."

Your mind races as you try to process this new information. Sure, you and Park have always been friendly, but to call him a friend? Especially a friend like Jack and Robby...

"What the fuck—"

Robby shushes Park, a terrifying ordeal given who he's holding a hand out to, telling him to settle down like he's not scary. But they hold all the cards here, and Park knows that.

So he settles, uncomfortable but docile, because he knows, deep down, what the hints Jack is giving you mean.

And he'll be damned if he doesn't at least try to follow the tide.

Your shy gaze takes in the boulder of a man across the table from you. He may look scary, you understand that, but you've never felt scared so, yeah, that makes sense.

You nod against Jack. "Yeah, Sharkie's a friend."

Both Robby and Jack share a deep smirk, your words causing them to harden under the table.

Jack shifts you forward before you can even think about the double meaning in what you've just said.

"Good girl," Robby praises and, like Newton's third law, your body instantly flushes, head already starting to feel dizzy and malleable.

"You know what you should do?" Jack whispers into your ear. "Why don't you give Park some attention while we finish our game?"

You shiver at the thought. Jack truly is one of the most considerate people you know. Park does look lonely all the way over there and you're being such a bad host!

This time when you move to get up, Jack lets you, hand smacking your ass as you shuffle towards the surgeon.

If he hadn't gotten it earlier, Park definitely gets it now.

He looks between the two men, a storm of questions, feelings and morals fighting behind his darkening eyes, all being quelled by one disgusting truth—

He wants you exactly like this too.

"Hi sharkie," you greet him, stepping in between his open thighs.

"Hey minnow." His throat is dry, raspy, and painfully itchy, but the rest of his body is on fire.

You smile at him, obliviously soft and innocent, and for a split second he feels bad. But then you turn around and sit yourself down over his lap, and whatever lingering reservations he has sink to the bottom of his mind.

Park lets them win every hand that comes next.

Robby and Jack know he's barely holding it together. They know because they would be in the exact same spot as him.

You've been sitting pretty for about twenty minutes, a long time considering just how antsy you usually become with them.

You're trying your best to stay engaged in the game, they can tell. You're asking questions, pointing out when Park does something that you don't agree with.

But now you're definitely bored. So bored in fact that you start to move.

Park lets out a sudden huff at your ass pressing into his crotch and they know he's a goner.

Robby chuckles as Jack pretends to be really into his beer, but the three of them know they're all acutely aware of what you're doing.

They told you Park was a friend, after all. And this is just what friends do.

You've become less shy about your own neediness after the movie night ordeal, but you're still playing a little dumb.

Dumb enough that Park is afraid to touch you, letting you have free rein on his body as you please.

Your hips roll again, shameless in the friction you're seeking, unaware that the game has stalled and they're all looking at you now.

The real entertainment.

"Don't be shy, Park," Jack teases. "Rub her clit."

Your gaze snaps up to meet Jack's at the comment, suddenly feeling very aware of where you are and what's going on.

Robby shushes you gently, grabbing your hand closest to him and bringing it down on his own hard on.

"It's okay, honey," Robby coos. "We're all friends here."

You nod, slowly resuming your movements as Robby slides your hand under his sweats. The second your fingers wrap around his length, he lets out a satisfied hum, breaking whatever restraint Park was still under.

One of his hands slides under your shirt, fingers pinching your nipple with what you can only assume is a fraction of the strength he has.

You let out a pathetic whimper, falling back against his broad chest.

You can feel the vibrations against your back as he chuckles at your reaction, distracting you as his other hand slides under your panties, running down your folds to gather the wetness that has already soaked the fabric through.

You moan, unrestrained and buck your hips towards his hand, causing your ass to rub against the tent in his pants aggressively.

Park hisses, more in pleasure than pain, but it's still enough for Jack to chuckle. Your eyes meet his again, brows scrunch in confusion.

"Jackie—" you reach out for him, to make him feel good, but he simply shakes his head softly.

"I'm alright, focus on them."

You nod, hips returning to their circular movements, hand resuming its stroking.

Park's fingers remain relentless, eager and demanding. He wants, no, needs you to come undone over him. It's a point of pride at this point.

"Fuck—" Robby shudders under you. "C'mere, honey."

You don't even have to think to move, you're just suddenly kneeling on the floor in between Robby now as he brings your head towards his cock and slips it into your mouth.

You don't have to do anything before he's spilling himself inside your mouth.

Park is so dizzy from how quick you've left him high and definitely not dry that all he can do is pant and stop himself from cumming in his pants like a teenager.

Behind you, Jack finally reacts, groaning at the sight in front of him.

"Don't swallow," the night shift attending commands. "Come here."

Once Robby's done, you do your best to clean him up with your lips before you get up and go back to Jack.

"Show me."

You do.

"Swallow."

You do, glad you don't have to taste the tanginess against your tongue anymore.

"Give me a kiss."

That stops you in your tracks for a split second.

"Friends kiss their friends too, minnow."

You all turn to Park, the men with a shared understanding you do not pick up on, and you, with a giddiness you've never let them see before.

You turn back to Jack and press your lips to his. His tongue eagerly seeks access into your mouth and you let him, swiping at every inch in search for whatever remains of Robby.

"Alright, let her go finish what she started."

It's only when Robby scolds him that Jack lets you go. But not without giving your ass another slap.

"Let's get another beer," he tells Jack, adjusting himself back into his pants and grabbing his friend's crutches before the two leave the room to give some semblance of privacy.

I mean...their point got across just fine, right?

(reader gets back down on her knees and sucks park off or she continues to dry hump him until he cums which she cleans up with her tongue)

a/n: idk how we got here but here we are