#biscuits writes

It's as if a cold bucket of ice water is dumped over his spine and he freezes. He's been sitting in his home office filling out reports and filing paperwork while you did your own thing to keep yourself busy. The pen in his hand almost bleeds ink onto the paper before he catches himself and lifts the tip up before shakily setting it down and off to the side. As he pushes himself out of his chair, Simon's brain is working overtime asking himself what he did to upset you. Did he forget an important date? Was he neglecting you and not caring for your needs? Did you just not love him anymore?

That last one carried his feet quicker into the living room where you sat watching TV, your back facing him. As soon as he makes his presence known though, you turn around in your seat and flash him that brilliant and heart-stopping smile of yours, no underlying emotions hidden underneath as far as Simon's aware.

"Come sit, hun! GBBO is showing the episode with Michael Sheen!" You softly pat his usual spot on the sofa right next to you. He searches your face for a beat with furrowed brows, clocking in on your use of a nickname this time. He doesn't make a sound as he practically glides over to plop down next to you, thoughts still swimming and hardly paying any attention to the screen in front of him.

"Si? You okay?" Your voice brings him back and he looks over to your confused face, eyebrows creased in slight worry. He huffs and debates letting it go as you've gone back to using your pet names, but he wants his communicating skills to be better for you, so he sucks in a shaky breath and let's it out in quiet admission.

"Are you upset with me?"

You tilt your head, brows furrowing even deeper as you immediately shake your head. "No? Why would I be, have you done anything that would make me upset?"

Simon in turn also shakes his head. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything, but he can't go back to being quiet now that you know something is up. "I just... You- you used my name when y'called me. Y'never use my name, only those silly nicknames."

Your brows unfurl in understanding and he watches as your lips twitch upward in amusement. "Oh Si, is that what this is about? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."

You gently take both his trembling hands in yours and squeeze them softly, not looking away as you continue. "I'm not upset with you, bubba. I didn't realize just how much I've been calling you anything other than your name and you got so used to it."

A huge boulder was lifted off his shoulders as he sighed in relief, then huffed in embarrassment. "Guess I overreacted a bit, yeah?"

"Ohhhh fuck yes darling, fuck—! Doing so well for me, mmh!"

"Don't get shy on me now, princess. Where'd that bratty mouth of yours go, hm?"

"You look so fucking good right now, darling. So gorgeous riding this fat fucking cock— oh fuck! Mm, you gotta stop squeezin' me like that, heh."

"Fuckfuckfuckfffuuckk! Oh god, yeah keep sucking, darling! Don't stop, please pleasepleaseee mmh—!"

"Mmhm? Right here? Yeah I know, I felt that shiver! Am I making you feel that good, princess? Yeah?"

"Yeah you like me being rough with you, huh? Tell me, sweetheart— mm fuck, tell daddy how much you love his cock."

"Give me your legs, sweetheart. Good girl, so eager for me."

"So fucking pretty, so gorgeous! Oh god, yeah scream my fucking name sweetheart! Louder darling— fuck I'm close! Please let me cum inside pleasepleasepleaseplease god I'm so fucking close—!"

"Your pussy was made for me, I swear. Mmh, yeah I know my sweet girl is close. Come on, cum on my tongue for me. Be good for daddy, yeah? Tastes so fucking sweet."

The moment you spawned in the circus, you made it everyone's problem.

Cue obligatory panic attack and introductions.

After you calm down and think rationally, things seem much better than the real world and you tell everyone that much.

"Yeah man, no sh[BOINK!]y gas prices or need to spend hundreds of dollars worth of groceries every month. Not to mention how terrible the world has been in general. I'm honestly glad I'm not out there anymore." You shrug.

Everyone clearly doubted you but generally kept quiet after a few more questions. One such question was your age.

"I'm pretty young all things considered, early 20s. Wayyy too addicted to my phone so I guarantee in the next hour I'll be climbling the walls like I have a cocaine addiction."

Out of nowhere someone new rushes it, or rather flies in. "Someone called??"

You see Ragatha wince. "Uhh, actually Caine-"

"Oh hey, we should totally start calling you that, Caine! That'd be hilarious." Jax sits up with a grin. Ragatha shoots him down with a shrill "NO!"

Caine ignores their usual arguing in favor of you. "Why, hello new human! It seems my system took a while to notice your entry, I hope you weren't without my presence for too long!"

"Uh, no not too long. Caine, was it?" You decide not to bring back up your hard drug simile as you guess from his outfit that he's in charge around here. You didn't feel like getting reprimanded on your first day.

"Yes indeedy I am Caine, your Ringmaster!" Called it. "Welcome to The Amazing Digital Circus! I'm here to make your indefinite stay as comfortable and fun as possible. Whatever it may be, you can have (as long as it's all-ages appropriate)!" He murmurs that last part to an invisible camera that may or may not be real.

"Everything's free, right? Sweet, this place f[BOINK!]ks, all I need is my phone and I'll be happy."

"Sorry kid but there's no internet in here. Guess it's not paradise after all." Jax pops in with a wide smile, his black eyes bigger than normal.

Outside you're perfectly calm. Fantastic, even. Internally though? You fear the end is nigh.

"Oh, okay then," you say with as much nonchalance as possible. You even throw up a 👌 for good measure.

They see right through you. Oh boy.

"Welp, if you'll excuse me I'll be heading into my room to turn my skin inside out and roll around in the sand, as God intended."

You take two steps before being scruffed by a large disembodied hand like a kitten. You even sound like one when getting picked up unprompted, letting out a weak but begrudging "heyyy.."

"No no no, my dear! You can't wander off juuust yet as there's a tour waiting to be toured upon!" Caine tuts in your face before dragging you to and fro, pointing at any and everything he deems worthy a shoutout.

The trees are worthy.

You miss your phone sooner than expected.

Because it's been a while since anyone new joined the Circus, you were donned the title of "Messenger".

That is to say, you recall any and everything you could so your new roommates are caught up with the happenings out there.

"No f[BOINK!]ing way Charlie Kirk died!" Jax howled with laughter.

"MARKIPLIER MADE A MOVIE???" Pomni shrieked. Her pinwheel eyes shone with excitement, and she shared that he was her internet dad and she used to watch his videos all the time.

You told her Mark finally got married to Amy. Might as well have said world hunger was solved.

"THE QUEEN'S DEAD?????" Everyone shouts. Even Kinger is shocked, or maybe just got jumpscared by the sudden ruckus.

"WHY ARE WE YELLING???" Caine bursts into the conversation, his eyes and mouth wide with curiosity.

"Oh, I'm getting everyone caught up with stuff happening out there," you explain easily. "We're yelling because the info is surprising."

He's moved to floating on his belly, hands cupping his "cheeks" with interest. You see his feet kicking idly behind him

"Oh! Can you tell us about the new adult generation?" Ragatha pipes up, "since you're part of it and all."

Everyone turns their attention back to you, plus one more pair of eyes.

"Welllll, like I mentioned before I was unhealthily addicted to my phone. I mainly just doomscroll and chat with my internet friends." You resume the explanation.

"What's 'doomscroll?'" Caine asks with a head tilt. You blink at him owlishly, completely forgetting he's an AI created in the 90s and is cut off from the outside world.

"Uh, doomscrolling is basically an action someone on their phone does on autopilot. You essentially turn off your brain and let the repetitive motion of swiping the screen lull you into a sort of trance." You haven't exactly thought much of doomscrolling, but now that you're explaining it out loud, it sounds pretty bad.

Caine hums, one hand on his chin pretending to stroke a beard. "Fascinating! What other modern human wordphrases are out there?"

You assume he means slang, so you mention one that first pops in your head. You've entirely forgotten the others and focus on Caine, who seems to do the same.

"There are a bunch! For example one of my favorites, the phrase 'absolute cinema'. In a normal scenario you would use 'cinema' on its own. However I and many others use it in conjunction with the word 'absolute', and now it suddenly means something entirely different." The words fly out of your mouth, excited about talking linguistics with someone who is equally as enamored. Though you suppose it makes sense why Caine is, as he's built to literally feed off of new information.

You watch as Caine, now sitting on a floating chair and "eating" popcorn, leans closer toward you with sparkling eyes. "And what would that be, my Pebbled Parchment?"

You open your mouth then pause to digest the weird nickname, ultimately choosing to ignore it. "The combined words now mean 'something worthy of celebrating' or 'peak', and you put your hands up like this." You demonstrate the action.

"So in a real world scenario, say I'm watching a video game trailer and I enjoy it a lot." You briefly pause and lock eyes with Caine. He nods excitedly and you smile. "In order to convey how much I loved it, I would raise my hands up like before and say 'absolute cinema', or just 'cinema'. Doesn't really matter. Most often it's used in a reaction image format, or a meme, where you send a grayscale image of a person making that hands-up pose with the caption 'absolute cinema' near the bottom."

Caine's top jaw curves to mimic a furrowed eyebrow. "What's a 'meme'? That sounds like a weird vegetable."

At this point his voice is less boisterous and over-the-top. It sounds quite soothing, and nice to listen to.

You take a look around and find that everyone has left, leaving the two of you alone. Huh.

You don't find yourself upset about that as you imagined. Maybe it's because Caine is the one who stayed.

"_____?" Your eyes snap back to Caine who inquisitively says your new circus name. He's still confused and staring back with big curious eyeballs.

Right. Explaining what a meme is to an AI older than you. What has your life come to?

It's raining.

It's been raining the entire week, but today seemed fitting to be much harsher on the day everything was out to get you.

It started off normally with you clocking in your shift on time and the first few hours going by smoothly. But it only takes one thing to teeter your momentum out of orbit, leading down to a snowball effect with you smack dab in the middle of it all.

Now you stand outside your door with both hands full of your work bag and groceries you stupidly decided needed to get purchased right then and there, with the cheapest bottle of wine sitting snugly with it all. In your frustrated stupor, you never once think about placing down your things to free up a hand to fish your apartment key from your bag.

"I'm gonna lose my shit if I left it inside my car," you grit through your teeth, fumbling through the pockets and coming very close to dumping it upside down. In a blind rage from the day's events, you kick at your front door in a feeble attempt at getting inside where rain won't stick to your clothes. Seeing it not budge just makes you fume with embarrassment.

"Oi!" A deep and borderline aggressive voice startles you into dropping your bags onto the wet floor, and rainwater sticks to your face as you snap your head toward whoever came up behind you.

The guy was huge, practically blocking out the gray sunlight to surround his dark form in a sort of halo. The all black clothing clinging onto him from the water softens the intimidation factor just a bit, especially once you notice his balaclava molding itself onto his face like a second skin.

"Y'live 'here?" Is all that the guy says, and you notice a large black duffle bag is slung over his shoulder.

It takes you an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize he's waiting for an answer, and you stammer out an affirmative. He just grunts and points at the ground near your feet, reminding you of your unfortunate predicament. Along with a new one.

Your wine bottle shattered upon impact with the concrete floor, spilling and likely staining everywhere the wine touched. Not to mention the glass shards mixed into the party. Your lip wobbles as you continue to stare at the mess in utter defeat, now knowing someone is watching the beginnings of your breakdown from the front row.

He stiffens at your sniffles and shaking shoulders, clearly awkward at what he's walked in on. You make a guess he's that man your neighbors claim is always away for work but you never see. The duffle bag and tired posture solidifies it. Poor guy, coming home to a random stranger sobbing at their front door over ruined groceries.

"Uhh," the man pauses when you attempt to hold back a sob to hear him better, "y'need... help?"

You could almost laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but you don't and instead nod. He grunts once more before walking away and into his own flat, leaving you confused. He soon comes back outside, holding a broom and pan that looks comically small in his hands. You stare at him even as he kneels down to brush the glass shards into the pan, along with other small debris that got ruined by the wine. He leaves your work bag alone for now.

"Need you t'move, luv," he states in a much gentler voice than before. You make a surprised noise in the back of your throat, stepping to the side so he can reach the mess near where your feet used to be.

You can't distinguish the rainwater from the tears sticking to your face anymore. You don't have the energy to wipe any of it away.

After he deemed it clean enough, he grunts with effort to stand upright once more to dump the pan's contents into the waste bin in his own flat, footsteps drowned out by the calming pitter patter of rainfall.

It takes you a while to reach down and grab your now ruined work bag, cringing at the wine clinging to the fabric making it sticky. But you ignore it in favor of rummaging through the pockets once more to find your keys. You hoped it would show up immediately after that whole exchange with your neighbor, but the world really was out to kick you while you're down as it's not in your bag at all.

"Son of a fucking bitch," you whine in frustration. Best case scenario you left it in an enclosed area where nobody can steal it, but it will still be a headache to locate and get back. Worst case? You didn't want to think of any right now.

"Alright?" Your neighbor seems to have cleaned everything up a while ago as you look over your shoulder to see him stand rigid in the hallway, no broom and pan in sight. You sigh dejectedly in response.

"Left my key somewhere so I'm locked out my own damn place," you mumble. You must look a right mess, and you scuffle your work shoes on the stained concrete awkwardly. Worst part is that your neighbor isn't bad to look at.

"Got anywhere else t'stay in the meantime?" You look up through wet lashes and shake your head no, feeling pathetic and vulnerable in front of him. The man exhales before gesturing for you to follow him. You hesitate with a furrowed brow, and he seems to realize the implications of his silence.

"Y'can crash on my couch for the night if y'want, luv. At least until the rain lightens up." You can tell he's trying to appear less intimidating for your sake, with mild success. He could easily be a serial killer framing compassion as a means to get you alone, but other than his imposing stature and gruff voice, he's been nothing but a gentleman.

Additional notes: knotting, Simon having seasonal ruts, talks of marking / biting but not doing so, praise kink, dirty talk, oral [both receiving], gentle sex, soft check-ins and implied aftercare

Dog Hybrids are fairly common in England, especially the working breeds. Sheepdogs, Retrievers, and Shepherds are the most abundant due to how much work they can execute

Simon Riley being a Belgian Malinois Hybrid is something you always love teasing him about

He tries to hide it, but you see his pointed ears perk up when you dish out some sort of approval for his actions. Doesn't matter how small of an accomplishment, Simon will bask in your praise

Speaking of basking, he regularly sunbathes if the weather is nice enough

You once caught him all spread out with his stomach on the floor snoozing the day away underneath a stream of sunlight shining through the blinds of your window

You instantly took a picture and he came very close to begging you to delete it

You still have it as your phone wallpaper and tend to stare at his slumbering expression if you have time between work. Your heart never fails to soften at his content expression, blonde lashes resting gently over his cheekbones

When he's on leave, Simon usually follows you everywhere in the house

You tried locking him out of the bathroom, yelling at him through the door that you're embarrassed if he sees you taking a shit. He ignores your protests and continues to scratch and paw at the wood barrier, joking all the while that you can watch him shit in return

It was a bit awkward after that

Thankfully he eventually relents and chooses to begrudgingly sit outside the door while you do your business, occasionally using the time to make awful knock knock jokes

"Knock knock"

"Who's there?"

"Honey bee"

Sigh. "Honey bee who?"

"Honey bee a dove and let me in, please?"

"No, Simon"

When focusing on something, such as writing things down and planning out his work schedules, his brows furrow and nose starts to twitch

He never realized he has that habit until you teased him about it a few times you've seen him like that

One time he tried holding his expression back, but he just ends up looking off and you laugh at him

"You look like you're about to shit yourself!"

"Oh, fuck off"

As a working Hybrid, Simon always has to do something. It's literally in his blood to be productive

He knows his limits however, so thankfully any reminders from you not to overwork himself to exhaustion is kept to a minimum

One time you accidentally sat on his tail when getting ready to relax for an indoor date night, and you both jumped high in the air with Simon barking out an astonished "Oi!"

You felt incredibly bad afterward, promptly kissing his face and fluffy (and bruised) tail, apologies tumbling out of your lips in between pecks

After that, you make sure his tail is safely tucked underneath him when seating yourself next to his broad frame

Speaking of his tail, it's fluffy enough to brush against his calves at a relaxed state

You asked Simon if he likes it being brushed through, and he admits he doesn't maintain the fur as often as he should be and doesn't remember the last time he's used one

"Always just the military-issued combs for us heavy shedders, luv"

You then eagerly persuade him to let you brush it with rubber bristles, and after a couple strokes you would think this man has seen heaven from how blissed out he looks

Each go through of the bristles sends a visible shiver up and down his spine, along with a quiet but meaningful moan leaving his parted mouth

Grooming his tail quickly ends up being the highlight of your and Simon's weekend

One of the many downsides of being a Dog Hybrid is having to deal with seasonal ruts / heats

Very early on in your relationship, Simon suddenly became very distant and closed off from you for almost two weeks straight

You had no idea what was going on, as you've never learned about Hybrid reproductive anatomy before, and thus you fearfully worry

Was he okay? Did you say or do something that caused him to build up those walls you carefully helped unravel?

Turns out, he was hiding at his own flat to wait out the rut in fear of you not liking how primal and rough he could be, especially now that he has someone he can call his partner

When you get a call from Simon after the two weeks and he deems himself back to normal, you naturally ask where the fuck he's been and if he's okay

You hear his raspy, exhausted laugh through the receiver and you never wanted to punch and kiss someone so bad in your life

He then explains everything, albeit a bit sheepishly, about ruts and heats. The primal desire to sink teeth into a mate's flesh and claim as theirs. The need to fuck with so much passion that his cock swells up at the base and locks you together

He says that he doesn't wish for you to see him that way, to continue thinking he isn't some animal wanting his cock inside anything warm and moving

You promptly ignore what he says and inquire if you can help with his rut come next season

Simon takes up your offer the second his limbs start to tingle and his body heats up from arousal

"Y'wanted t'help? I've got somethin' you could do f'me, luv."

He guides you to kneel before him, letting you set the pace as you suck and drool on his aching cock

It's grown both in length and width the last time you've seen it, and he breathlessly explains it's due to the rut and how painful the urge to fuck you is

He's also way more vocal

"Oh god, ffffuck luvie-"

"Yeah, just like tha- ahfuck- that, just like that."

"Makin' m'feel like th' luckiest bastard, god-"

He's quick to reposition the both of you onto the mattress, with him worshipping every single inch of your body, slowly creeping down to the apex of your thighs

"S'bloody beautiful, y'know that?"

Simon's tongue is warm. Actually, his entire body feels like he has a fever from how hot he is [pun intended] and you jump at the unfamiliar temperature of his tongue

He swiftly leans back and apologizes, ears slightly pinned back, but continues at your insistence

Makes you cum at least twice, once on his tongue and another with three of his large fingers as he lovingly kisses you

He doesn't wish to hurt you at all, so he does as much prep as possible until you're practically sobbing for his leaking cock

"Say th' word 'n I'll stop, 'kay?"

He angles his cock to notch the head up against your hole, brown eyes not leaving yours until you verbally agree

He slowly fills you up, pausing at any time you show signs of discomfort

God, he's warm. Much warmer than normal, and your walls hug his extra girth so nicely

Once you confirm he's safe to move, Simon does so with a passionate kiss you've come to know and love

It takes a bit for the both of you to accustom to the differences his rut brings, but soon enough he's confident enough to let loose and thrust deeper into you

The bedroom fills with the erotic harmony of your mixed moans and grunts of pleasure

"S'good t'me, luvie"

"Mmngh, mmfuck y'feel so good, helpin' me through m' rut"

He's panting and you're mildly worried not enough oxygen is getting to his fucked out brain

He'll be fine

You reach behind his head to softly scratch behind his ears and he whimpers at your touch, his cock swelling up inside your hole making his rough fucking slow but remain deep

"Fuck 'm cummin', luvie- mmngh, y'want m' knot in ya, beautiful? Yeah?"

He aids in your orgasm by reaching between the tiny space your connected bodies make

The base of Simon's cock swells into a knot, connecting the two of you as you catch your breath in between kisses, him slowly rolling his hips a few beats before stopping completely

"Sorry, luv, you're stuck with me for a while"

"...You were waiting to use that joke, huh?"

"Tha's classified"